Prologue
Paul Carrack wrote a song many years ago made popular by his band of that era, ACE. The song is still played regularly by oldies stations and is loved by many. The question is also the centerpiece of many destroyed relationships through the years. This is where my story begins.
My husband is Lieutenant Allen Roberts with the Robbery/Homicide Unit of our local Police Department. He's been with the Department for 15 years. He's 41 years old, 6'3", and 220lbs of muscle. He works out regularly which is a requirement in today's law enforcement environment.
I'm Jan Roberts, Allen's wife of 8 years. We began dating in our senior year of high school. He was in love but I had bigger plans in mind and a relationship just didn't fit into them. We were separated after graduating we went our separate ways as far as our education went. His family was middle class which required him to attend local college on grants and loans while my family was very well off if not down right filthy rich. He earned a Bachelors Degree in Criminal Justice while I soared with eagles obtaining an MBA in International Business Law and Business from a very prestigious university.
I rose through the ranks to become Senior Vice President of Operations for my worldwide employer. I'm thirty-nine years old and considered very attractive so I'm told by the opposite sex. I have jet black hair, blue eyes and a God given body that seems to never age. We want kids...I guess I should say, he want kids...not so sure about me. Seems my high flying profession is not indicative of a family life at this time.
Chapter 1
Allen and I reunited when he responded to a disturbance at a local restaurant some 8 1/2 years ago. I was on a greet and meet lunch date with a man when he made a few crude remarks to me after I shot his aggressive advances down. The gentleman in the next booth took offense to my date's remarks and "handled" his bad behavior. When the officers arrived, they found that my former date was on the floor bleeding with me kneeling at his side holding a napkin on his superficial injury. As I looked up, I got a better look at one of the police officers.
I said, "Allen? Is that you?"
He looked up at me, "Jan?, Oh My God! How are you? What happened here?"
I related my story to Allen.
"Allen, my lunch date made some crude comments to me. This gentleman was in the next booth and heard his remarks when I refused his advances. He decided to be my savior from this evil doer. Thus the fight."
My date only had a minor cut on his face. Nobody wanted to press charges.
My guy said, "Come on, let's get out of here" and took me by the arm.
I said, "Get your hand off me, I'm not going anywhere with you."
Allen grabbed his arm and squeezed the pressure point at his elbow causing him to let go of me and told him not to press his luck. He left, flipping us off as he walked out.
Allen said, "Wow, Jan, where did you find that one?"
I said, "It was our first date. A "get-to-know-me" lunch date, if you know what I mean. I think I found out all I needed to know about him." We both laughed.
He asked, "So you're still not married? Still chasing that dream?"
I said, "Yeah, but it's hard for a woman, especially if you're an attractive woman. Every CEO wants to bed you and promise the rewards will be great if you do. I'm still working on getting there without the required sexual resume." Again we both laughed.
He said, "Jan, if I might be so bold, could I ask you out to dinner?"
I said, "I would love that, Allen." I handed him my business card and said, "Call me" as I walked out.
That day started the program for the next eight years. He discovered that he was still in love with me and I was sure I was in love with him. We married six months later. We were inseparable for 6 years, until we weren't. My company had been grooming me for better things and I soared up the food chain, eating everyone in my way.
For the last two years, my travels have taken me to places I've only seen on a world map and television. My salary is in the mid seven digits with bonuses. His salary is only a fraction of mine but but he loves his job. Financially, we are well off.
Our one sticking point that causes us the most friction is that I'm a flirt. All my life I've teased and thrown guys away like old underwear. It does help business as it brings clients into the fold before they even realize they are in it. Lately, Allen and I have had some heated conversations about it with me trying to white wash my behavior by assuring him he's my only man. I'm not sure he's buying it although it's true. I have not been unfaithful.
This job has been my life since I graduated from college. I've put everything into it except my reputation. I've been attached at the hip to my soul mate for eight years now. I'm proud of the work he does. He's my hero. Lately, that attachment has taken a backseat to my job. When I was named V.P. of Operations, I began spending a lot of time away from home...overseas. This is what I have worked so hard for...to be at the top of my game at the top. I know my marriage and relationship is suffering but Allen knows this is where I was always destined to be. He understands...I hope.
I meet a lot of people in my travels and I get invited to a lot of private and business parties. I know I attract the attention of men most everywhere and get hit on quite a bit by some very rich and powerful men. I have flirted but never allowed any serious touching while mingling or dancing at these events. I know Allen would be bored and feel out of place. I just don't mention it to him when I go out for relaxation on business trips.
I was no means a virgin when Allen and I married. I was pretty, dressed to the nines to impress and turned heads. I also discovered that one of the sexiest lingerie items a lady can wear are high end thigh high stockings. I love to give stocking top views to unsuspecting guys and watch them drool as they learn there are still thigh high stocking wearing women out there. Part of my flirting persona. Allen is no exception, he loves it when I wear stockings and my nylon covered, red polished toes are pointing at the ceiling while he's buried deep inside me.
I also tend to tease the men I flirt with by slipping off my shoe and dangling it from my toes, occasionally letting it drop to the floor. I've had more than one volunteer offer to pick it up and place it back on my foot. I know...I'm a cock teasing bitch. Thus, my downfall.
I have met a man who intrigues me through my business contacts. He became a potential client and we became close. He thinks he may be in love with me but we have done nothing but flirt and display some sexual innuendo. I have no intention of it going any further but still the attention interests me. His name is Jacques...Jacques DuMont. Jacques is constantly trying to get me into his bed. It has not happened but I have allowed him more intimate contact than I have any other man but Allen. He's kissed me and when he touches me, it feels exciting and forbidden.
Chapter 2
Jacques and I had been to lunch as we regularly do at least once a week. After we got into his SUV, he leaned over and kissed me, passionately. My alcohol infused body responded, I'm sorry to say. I felt his hand go under my dress and touch my thigh above my lacy stocking top. Then he reached further and touched my thong covered labia. My clit was protruding from its hood as his fingers brushed across it through my thong. He moved my thong aside and began rubbing my clit.
I gasped, "Jacques, No! I'm a married woman. I can't do this. Please stop."
He knew my pleas were futile. I was too far gone to refuse him. I felt his fingers spread me and enter me, massaging my most sensitive spot.
Again, I pleaded, "Jacques, please no! Oh God, you're going to make me cum. So close...so close. Jesus, I'm cumming."
I came, oozing all over his fingers and car seat.
He said, "Ahhh, enjoy, My Love. I love you, Jan. I want you. I want to make love to you."
In my aroused state, I reached over and wrapped my fingers around his erect cock through his pants leg. Then I unzipped his fly and pulled it out. I took him in my mouth tasting the copious pre cum that was flowing from the tip. I ran my tongue over the swollen glans until I felt him swell. I pulled off and watched the geyser of semen shoot into the air. One, two, three long spurts before it was a stream oozing out over my fingers. I looked at my cum covered hand and searched for a napkin or something to clean my hand. My pussy was still bare and sliding around in my own slick cum on his seat. I covered my labia up with my thong and straightened myself up.
"Jacques, this was wrong. So wrong. I've just cheated on my husband. Something I vowed to never do."
He said, "He will not know unless you tell him. But I have to say, Jan, I love you and I want you in my bed."
"Jacques, I have feelings for you too but I also love my husband. Please...I'm so confused right now. My pussy is on fire. You did that. I'm so ashamed. Please take me to my hotel room. I have to clean up and change. I smell like sex."
He said, "Yes, you do, Angel. The sweet smell of your body, fresh from an orgasm."
So my demise began, I would like to say that I felt so guilty that I never let it happen again but I didn't. We met several times with some heavy petting, just getting each other off. He wanted more...much more.
I know Allen sensed something the day I came home on his day off in the middle of the day after an hour with Jacques. I changed clothes telling him I had spilt some tea on my white blouse and needed to change.