It Shouldnt Have Happened 1

All: Thank you for reading my work. For various reasons, it has been a long time since my last post. Many thanks to Seventhsun8258 and Dave H. for encouraging me to write again. This story is for them. ..Jen

It shouldn't have happened

A betrayal of not only my husband but also myself

You can never assume that you know what you would do in a certain situation. Even with all the life experiences you possess would you think you would put yourself into such a precarious position. Maybe it is my moral compass, but I scoffed at other women that got themselves in similar situations. And I would never believe that my life would have taken this direction.

I'm Barbara, (Barb), at 33 a seven-year happily married woman, mother of two with an active marital sex life, and a stable job. What could be more satisfying than that? After two children, and being in a stable home life, I haven't let myself go but I don't worry about my looks. I do eat healthily, and run a couple of times a week. I'm 5 feet 5 inches and stay consistently around 125 pounds. I am a real blond, but no dummy as I hold an MBA from Michigan. Go Wolverines!!! I married the year I received my undergraduate degree. Our first child, Lindsay, was born two weeks after my MBA graduation.

After graduation, and six months off for bonding with my daughter, I really didn't want to go into the corporate management world. I happened into a job as a procurement director at a local manufacturing and distribution company. Not that I really needed to work. Bill, my husband, is a corporate attorney and provides well for our family. I guess that it is a sense of responsibility that drove me to get a job. After five years of college, I felt there was only so much social and civic work that I could do. I needed to do something with my life, and be a role model for my daughter, now daughters.

My work is not that demanding giving me ample time to be productive as well as being a mom. One aspect of my job is to meet with various salesmen who are pushing their wares to my company to purchase. Basically, keeping expenses low by finding products or services at a lesser cost is my job, and I'm good at it.

Mark is one of those salesmen. He'd been calling on our company every two weeks for about six months. Although his company has good products, I just can't get them to a price point to justify using their company.

It was Friday and I was looking forward to a lazy weekend with my family. I really was looking forward to my regular Saturday morning run. It was somewhat a family tradition that on Saturdays Bill would get the girls up, make them breakfast, and they would have some activities and have bonding time. That gave me some time for my run and me.

On that Friday, I needed to grab a quick lunch as I had an afternoon meeting. As I was getting out of my car at a local deli, so was Mark. As we stood in line, Mark said: "Let me buy lunch, my company will pay for it, but you are under no obligation to eat with me." I responded that I had to be back in the office in 45 minutes for a conference call, but I didn't object to having lunch with him.

The conversation was totally non-business, which I wouldn't have expected. It was about what was planned for the weekend. I told him about my family life and weekend plans, and of course, my Saturday run. I found out he was divorced, and also a runner. Mark said his house backs up to a neighborhood park, and if I wanted some company and competition on my run, meet him at the park shelter around 9 am on Saturday.

The conference call had consumed my mind all afternoon. It wasn't until I was driving home that I thought about Mark's offer. Bill had no interest in running, so I always ran alone. My first thought was I shouldn't mix personal with business. But then I thought I wouldn't mind the company, and the challenge of having someone to run against.

At fifteen to nine on Saturday morning I parked in front of the shelter in Mark's neighborhood. I was doing my stretching when I heard Mark.

"I was wondering if you would show up", Mark said as he walked up. "Are you ready to get outpaced?"

Well, that flipped my competitive switch, "I would be if there was someone that could outpace me", I replied.

It was a light workout as we started our jog, but got more competitive the further away from the shelter. I don't know if I didn't fully stretch or what, but as we kicked it into another gear I felt a sudden pain in my back left thigh. I was glad that I was running with Mark because in two more steps the cramp became debilitating. I fell forward and grabbed Mark from behind. Luckily he realized I was in trouble and cradled my fall. If he hadn't had been there I could've been seriously been injured.

I was in agony. The more I tried to stretch out my leg, the more it hurt. Mark held my head in his lap as I tried various contortions to alleviate the pain. As I was moving around in his lap I thought I felt something growing. With that in mind, and when I thought I was stabilized, I asked Mark to help me up. I walked about three feet and collapsed once again. Luckily we were close to Mark's house, and between limping and Mark carrying me; we soon got to his house.

Carrying me into his den Mark wanted to sit me in a chair, but I said I couldn't do that. I asked that he put me on the floor and I started to stretch again. The pain would not subside. Mark asked if he could try to massage it out. At that point, I didn't care as long as it relieved the pain.

Mark left to get some oil and when he came back he started lightly rubbing the back of my leg while I lay on my stomach. He began more pressure as I got accustomed to his movement. His motions got more aggressive as I felt him kneading my muscle on the inside of my thigh. His movements progressed to gradually glancing that special place between my legs. The excruciating pain subsided as his movements became more aggressive. The side of his hand now was consistently touching my covered vulva. The pain had been replaced in my mind by the thought of his hardening mass while my head was in his lap together with the repeated touching of my vulva. Shit, I was wet! I had to get up; he could see the wetness between my legs. As I tried to get up, the pain returned and I fell flat.

"Hold on there FloJo, you just can't just jump up and run. You are going to have to take some time stretching before you can walk. You're starting to tense-up elsewhere. Let me massage your leg while you start lifting it easily", said Mark.

Mark straddled me over my butt, got some more oil and started rubbing. Every so often I would raise my leg in hopes the pain would subside. With his angle, the frequency of Mark's hand hitting my vulva was increasing. As the pain subsided, I started to sink into an arousal haze. I don't know when it occurred, but I became very aware of the return of that hardening mass between Mark's legs. It seemed to be moving down my butt each time Mark would touch my covered pussy. The more movement, the more aroused I became.

Unexpectedly Mark turned around, still hovering above my butt he started to rub my shoulders. Although I longed for him to touch me between the legs I thought, 'This is good; it will allow me to get a grip and leave'.

In only a moment, Mark said, "This isn't going to work" and reach under the bottom of my sports top and ran it up my back. Without any thought, I pulled my hands above my head, pushed up and allowed him to remove my top. As my breast hit his carpet, I thought, 'What the hell did I just do'?

Mark splashed some more oil on his hands and starting rubbing and kneading my shoulders. With a fluid motion, Mark ran his hands along my ribs and side stroked my breast. Although I should have said something I didn't, and he continued his stroking. After a few moments, without any conscious thought, I raised my chest and allowed Mark to massage my uncovered breast. He retrieved more oil and kneaded my breast, tweaked and twisted my nipples.

I heard a guttural moan, it sounded primal, and then realized the moan came from me. Mark leaned up, swished my hair to the side and kissed my neck. As if I wasn't wet down there before, I was then gushing. My thoughts were blocked by the build-up of my passion. The continued twisting and pinching of my nipples was stirring that twitch between my legs. When he kissed my neck again, Mark whispered, "Rollover".

Mark rose up and I rolled over. He immediately started tweaking my nipples again, then bent over and kissed me lightly on the lips, then back to my nipple. I gasped and jerked when his mouth sucked in and pulled up hard on one of my nipples.

He leaned up again within inches of my eyes looking straight at me and said, "You know I am going to ravage you! I will not do anything you don't want me to do. All you have to do is say stop. But I will not stop until I'm ready unless you say so."

It was like I was in a trance, being hypnotized, and under his spell; I could only blink my response as I stared into his eyes. I was drunk on the power this man held over me. He could do as he wished with me, and I wouldn't ever stop him. He moved down my body, placed his fingers in my waistband. I raised my butt as he slowly pulled my shorts off, never losing eye contact with him. He pulled his top off, and then his shorts. I was mesmerized as his fat cock swung into view. I never realized he was that big. My mind was totally consumed with having that cock inside of me. I was only aware of him and me and wasn't aware of anything outside of that room.

As if I wasn't already turned on, Mark pulled my legs apart and attacked my pussy with his mouth with force. His tongue invaded my dripping vagina. Mark then sucked hard as is tongue danced on my hard, extended clit. My reaction came quickly with my thighs clamping around his head as my stomach spasmed. He sucked, licked, poked, and explored every part of me. After several more spasms, I couldn't stand it any further. Words that I would never think of speaking to any other person except my husband came forcefully out of my mouth: "FUCK ME".

Mark was eager but controlled the pace of his assault. It was easy for him to lubricate his head from all of my secretions' and with about two or three strokes up and down my lips, he entered me. I wanted him so bad that I hunched up to take him fully. I groaned and then cried out as that fat cock slipped fully inside my body. Every nerve ending in my body vibrated and burned as they surrounded his cock. Each movement, each flex, each throb elicited a reciprocal response. His movements seemed to probe me trying to find the best spot to evoke the reaction he wanted. And then he found it. My response was a quick as I arch my back and immediately thrust up my hips. Once he found that spot he continued to pound it. I felt his cock expand inside me. My mind was awash, the movements of my body were autonomic responses. My only thoughts were of my pleasure. It didn't catch me off guard, I knew it was coming, I was just hoping it would have lasted longer. My vocal cords vibrated as the air was expelled out of my lungs. I gasped for breath as the euphoric waves rolled throughout me causing me to squeal, exhale and fall limp. Then I felt it. It brought me back to reality quickly. The spurts of hot cum invaded me. Cum that was not of my husband. What had I done?

The conscious has its own agenda. The more I knew I needed to get up and to run out the door, the more I wanted to stay for more. And stay I did. I had no sooner caught my breath; Mark carried me to his bed, flipped me over on all fours and started teasing me again. My passions rose quickly, especially when Mark rimmed my rosebud with his thumb. Mark kept slapping my clit with his hardening cock. When I started hunching air he entered me. I was so eager to have more, I pushed back impaling me to the hilt. My breast tingled as they dragged the sheets until he pushed my head into the pillow while keeping my butt high. With his hand on the back of my neck, he squatted above me, probing me until he found that special spot; took my arms behind me and used them to pull me back into him as he hammered me. I started screaming, and he thought that he had hurt me and asked. I just said, "Don't stop, dammit DON'T STOP!" He continued as the sounds of hot, dripping, wet sex echoed as his balls slapped my clit. His unrelenting pounding produced an orgasm like no other, with my legs quivering, and my muscles clamping around him milking his cum into me. His cock was coated with my juices, making a creamy froth on his shaft. There was a steady stream of our combined fluids dripped from my clit, pooling on the bed. I don't think Mark was capable of making love, only to fuck for his satisfaction. But with his stamina and his hard, wide cock, I didn't care.

It was remarkable how Mark stayed hard. Prior to my leaving, we repeated our actions in various positions twice more, with him coming inside me each time. He made me squeal as he pulled my legs over his shoulders, taking every millimeter of him inside me. That really stretched out my leg muscles. My leg muscles weren't the only things stretched that day! As I left I still hadn't grasp reality. I barely remember cleaning up and getting dressed.

Mark held me in his arms in his foyer before I left. I remember his parting words vividly: "Tomorrow you will be sore. With every ache and pain, think of me, and what we had here today. There are no commitments, no assumptions, and definitely no regrets. When I see you in the office, it will be business, and anything other than that is completely up to you." With that, he gave me a passionate kiss that made me swoon, opened the door, and I was off. In the nine years of knowing my husband, nor with any previous boyfriend, has any man had the endurance to cum in me four times.

I was lucky that the shelter at in the park had a restroom. Between walking from Mark's home to the park shelter his cum had run down below my knees.

You would think while I was driving home I would be thinking of excuses to tell my husband, that I would be full of regret or be very emotional. I felt none of the above. I felt at peace and totally sated. I didn't condone what I had done, but as Mark said, I had no regrets. I loved how he slammed into me, and each burst of cum that jetted onto my cervix. I had been totally well fucked.

Then I pulled into my driveway and into the garage. As the door to the kitchen opened, my kids ran toward me for a hug and my husband who was sitting at the kitchen table said, "Hi Hun". It was like a slap in the face. One would think that I would run to Bill, hug him, and tell him, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry'. Contrary, after hugging my girls, I walked over to Bill, kissed him on the forehead and said, "I need a shower" then walked upstairs.

I went into my bathroom, turned on the shower and stripped. As I pulled off my shorts, a glob of cum splatted onto the floor and started running down my leg. I quickly cleaned it up. As I looked in the mirror I was shocked. My cheeks were flush, my chest and tits were bright red. Just by looking at my l my engorged labia, I could tell it was red, swollen and I felt it burn. There were gray spots forming on my hips and shoulders where Mark had gripped me. I knew those were going to be bruised, which would take some time to heal. I opened the shower door, stepped in, and let the warm water run over me, cleansing my body of my infidelity, but not my mind.

Afterward, I put on some sweats and walked back downstairs. Bill had already fed the girls lunch, and he had also fixed me a sandwich. I sat down at the table with him to eat. I must have had that faraway look because Bill asked if anything was wrong. I told him, "No, I think I overdid it this morning".

There wasn't much meaningful conversation for the rest of the day. I did a lot of thinking about trying to rationalize what I had done. The question of, 'Why did I do that?' kept swirling in my head. I have a great marriage and family life. The sex isn't like when we were first dating, but still very satisfying. There must be some psychological need, some reason that I let my passions overrule my judgment.

Bill and I are usually spontaneous about our sex, but Saturday nights were usually a sure bet. When I changed for bed I had to find something that didn't show my shoulders, cleavage and definitely not my hips. I was really afraid that Bill could detect that something was wrong so, I used the pretense of overdoing my run. I promised him for tomorrow. Even though I promised him for the next day, he must have been horny because he kept groping me. I ended up giving him a blowjob, the only thing I didn't do with Mark.

You would think that I wouldn't sleep after what I did that day, but I slept like a baby. When I awoke the next morning, I swung my leg out of bed and I felt it immediately. I was so sore I could hardly walk. After getting breakfast for Bill and the kids, I went to get ready to go to church.

Everyone at church greeted us and was happy to see us. As I sat down in the pew I felt the pain. Sitting there, the guilt was a little overwhelming. I don't know what the preacher said. The only thing I could think of was I had broken a Commandment, and my marriage vows. I prayed for forgiveness. Call me a whore, slut, adulteress or any alike word found in Webster's or the Bible. You couldn't call me anything that I hadn't called myself.

After lunch, the girls went down for a nap, and I knew the time of reckoning was coming. I went to our bedroom, pulled the shades and curtains to make it as dark as possible, and called Bill to come up. Even though I was sore, I was more than willing to satisfy my husband. When Bill came into the bedroom I said, "I'm yours" and he asked if we could do it later because he wanted to see the ballgame. I had mixed emotions about that answer.

While Bill watched the ballgame, I sat in my dark room and thought about my adulteress weekend. Should I confess and beg for forgiveness or just view it as a one-time occurrence and forget it?

It was not about love. I don't love Mark. I never will. I do love Bill, unconditionally and without any doubt. I would never leave Bill for Mark. Bill is a great companion. You couldn't ask for a better partner; always kind, considerate, a phenomenal father, and usually a very caring lover.

Is it about sex? The sex with Bill is great. I never wanted more nor even thought of sex with another man. Yes, Mark is slightly bigger but much wider, and that did thrill me. Should it have been a one and done experience? What possessed me to do it four times? Why didn't I stop him? Why did I just let him have his way with me? And that last kiss. That was a toe curler in itself. After that last kiss, I wanted to drag Mark back to his bedroom and do it over again.

I thought about the ramifications. Not that he would do it, but Mark could hold it over my head to get me to buy products from his company. He went bareback, what if I caught something. Well, a little too late to think about that now. I had my tubes tied after Ashley's birth, so getting pregnant wasn't an issue.

OK, it has to be sex, but why? Bill is all that I need. Why should I want more? It had to be because Mark was the new dick, the fat one that stretched me far beyond any other and something that was very taboo. It had to be something that shouldn't have occurred, and the buildup of the passion that had to be released. And then there was Mark's ability to find that certain spot. No one has consistently hit that spot. When I came it was so powerful that I was totally oblivious to the outside world. It was all about me, and the explosive orgasms I felt.

I'm so conflicted!

After dinner, we watched TV as a family. I went up with the girls to get them ready for bed, and Bill went to our room with a great amount of anticipation. I read to the girls, got their school clothes ready for the next day, put them to bed, and went back to clean up the kitchen. All the while not looking forward to what was about to occur. I walked into our bedroom thinking of how I was going to cover up my body damage, and there laid Bill, on his side of the bed, fast asleep. I crawled into the other sided and viewed it as a blessing.