I remember when I was the perfect wife. Okay, maybe 'perfect' is too strong a word, but all things considered, I was about as close as you get. Now, I'm not going to bore you with the tedious details. I hate it when people do that. But unless you know where you've been, you can't possibly know where you are going, right? So let's just say this. I'm married, I'm a college graduate, and I have a great job. I sing in the church choir too, at least when I don't sleep too late. No kids yet, but you never know. We're sort of trying, but haven't had any luck so far. Anyway, I think you get the picture. So you see, I know where I've been. Problem is, I don't know why I went there to begin with.
But that's where you come in. Well, maybe not 'you' exactly, since we don't even know each other. Still, since you are about to read all about me, by the time this ends, we won't be strangers will we? We still won't know each other, but you'll know more about me than anyone. And that includes my friends, family, and of course, my husband. You'll know all my dirty little secrets, all the terrible things I can't tell them, and once you read this, you'll understand why. Because you see, I was once the perfect wife. But we know better don't we? Yeah, soon enough, you'll know the truth too.
Truth. Funny little word don't you think? We talk incessantly about it, devise our religions and legal systems around it, and yet, most of us can't recognize it when it stares you in the face. As my daddy used to say, nothing is harder to see than the truth. I should know. I walk around all day, talking to my friends, lying beside my husband every night, and no one - no one - has a clue. They all think I'm the perfect wife, you know? But I said that already, haven't I?
Anyway, while we are talking about truth, let me explain something. Let me try to explain why I'm writing all this down, instead of keeping this a secret. Truth is, I have to tell someone. God knows, I can't tell my friends. They'd hate me. But in some strange way, just thinking about my affair turns me on so much. So now I want to tell my story. Why? I don't know. I guess I'm turned on by the idea of strangers reading about my secrets, and knowing all the details about my sex life, in full living and breathing color. So, that's why I'm doing this. It turns me on to do it, and hopefully it turns you on to read it.
Guess I should stop rambling and get to the point. Dan, he's my husband you know, always tells me that. For God's sake Natalie, would you get to the point? That's what he's always saying. Not that he always gets on to me, cause he doesn't. He's actually a nice guy, one of those really nice guys. The kind you meet and just say to yourself, wow, he is really great. And the best part is, he is so good looking. And he doesn't even realize it. You girls know exactly the kind of guy I'm talking about, don't you?
Well, in case I've lost you, it's like this. There are two kinds of great looking guys. The first are so gorgeous, that when they look at you, you can barely breathe. Thing is, they know it. God, I hate that. Now the second type, that's what gets me going. These guys are also incredibly handsome, but for some odd reason, they don't realize it. Maybe they're just shy, or don't have a great personality, and as a result, haven't had much experience with girls. Beats me. But for some reason, they're always shy around pretty girls. I think it's incredibly cute.
Dan was that way you know. God he's hot. My friends tell me that all the time too. Thing is though, he's not very confident. Plus, he's really shy around my friends. And in bed, well, let's just say he's not exactly a take-charge kind of guy. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. His IQ isn't the only thing that's large, if you get my drift. He's always satisfied me. Yeah, I'm a very satisfied little lady. And I know he's still crazy about me too. He's always telling me what a great little fuck I've turned out to be. Even after all these months, we still fuck like teenagers. Come to think of it though, we are still practically teenagers. I'm barely 22. But neither one of us has lost a thing, at least not in bed.
Trouble is, I need more. At least now I do. Either I didn't then, or maybe I just didn't know any better. But now, I need so much more than a big, hard cock. So you see, it's not the cock that's driven me to this. It's the man attached to it. No, that's not quite true either. It's the man attached to the new cock I've been fucking.
So, I guess I should tell you about this new guy, huh? That's why you are still here, right? Just get right to the juicy part. Well, I'm getting to it. Just wanted you to know I'm not some kind of slut. In fact, until Dan, I'd only been with two other guys. And I wouldn't even call what we did sex. It sure as hell wasn't fucking. I've been fucked enough now to know the difference. I'm sure you guys know when you've had sex, and when you've been fucked, am I right?
Like I said before, sex with Dan was great. Boy, does he know how to fuck. But here's the hard part. In fact, this is the main reason I think I'm such a horrible wife. I cheated on my husband. And I know how terrible that is. But the part that shames me more than anything is this - I loved every minute of it, and I can't wait to do it again. I've never felt so sexy, I've never felt so loved, and I've never felt so alive. Although I live in constant fear of discovery, that fear is what fuels my sex drive. I fuck all the time now, sometimes twice a day. Usually once with Dan and at least a few times during the week with Joey.
Joey? Oh yeah, he's the one. The one I'm having this affair with. He's the reason I'm writing this down. I don't ever want to forget how I felt at the beginning, when Joey showed me exactly what fucking is all about.
Believe it or not, it all started very innocently, if you can call an affair innocent. I've known Joey since university. He was practically my best friend, at least until he graduated. He finished a year before I did. Anyway, until he left, we were practically inseparable. Looking back now, I suppose I was a little bit in love with him. Thing is, he had a steady girl at another school in town, and I was still dating my old high school boyfriend. So we never did anything. God knows we each had ample opportunity. We did come close once, and I even slept over in his dorm a few times. But even though we were in the same bed, I stayed in a tee shirt and panties, and he always kept on a pair of shorts. To keep us honest I suppose.
Still, I know he wanted me. The first time I slept over was on a Friday night, after we had been out partying with our friends. We walked back to his place in the middle of the night, and God was it cold. By the time we got there, my feet and legs were numb. Admittedly, my short little skirt wasn't the warmest thing I had. Anyway, Joey asked me if I wanted to come up to his room and warm up a bit before I continued on to my place.
Once we were in his room, he gave me a blanket and a nice hot cup of cocoa. We started talking and before we knew it, another hour had passed and I was just about to fall over. I was so tired. Joey could tell, and asked if I wanted to stay over, although he was very careful to make sure it wasn't seen as a pass. Like I said, I like guys that are nice, and Joey was no exception.
So, he brought me out an oversized tee shirt of his, and since his room had very little privacy, I had to turn my back so I could take off my clothes. I left on my panties, pulled the shirt on, and asked him where I could sleep. Which wasn't a tough question since there was only one small bed in the room.
When he offered to sleep on the floor I told him not to be silly. I stretched out on his bed, and immediately got under the covers. I was still a bit cool, especially since I had nothing on my legs to keep me warm. I rolled to the side and closed my eyes as he dimmed the lights. But as Joey started to undress in the dimly lit room, I couldn't help peeking. He had turned towards his chest of drawers, and quietly removed his shirt, shoes and pants. When he turned his head towards me, I immediately closed my eyes again, hoping he hadn't seen me looking.
I guess he didn't, cause when I opened them again, he was naked. He had just pulled off his underwear, and was reaching in a drawer for a pair of old flannel gym shorts. And as he stepped into them, I stared at his body, his strong powerful chest, tight belly, and limp cock. An involuntary shiver passed through me. I could barely breathe. Finally he pulled the shorts to his waist, and climbed into the bed.