More Extramarital Adventures...

[This is part 2 of the Cheating Husband Chronicles. Part 1 is posted on Literotica, feel free to catch up. I've gotten feedback from both ends of the spectrum...Some people have liked what I wrote, others seem to think I am worse than Hitler. Either way, thanks for the attention. I answer all my mail so please if you leave a comment (particularly a mean comment) don't pussy out and be anonymous.]

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After C and I parted ways, I walked the line for over 2 years. I did my best to stay interested in other things to keep my mind off of cheating. As I forgot the fear and desperation of walking home from the bowling alley that night thinking I was sure to be found out and divorced, I slowly drifted back into my wickedness. The porn and its neon allure where not enough to keep me out of trouble, I needed the real thing, real contact, real interaction with real other women.

I placed an ad on a phone chat line, which is where I met Jen, detailed in my first dirty blog. Though I liked her as a person and we got along very well sexually, I forced myself to keep it just that one night. I threw her number away to keep myself from calling it. I told myself it was ok, I was in control, I wouldn't get involved again.

I called my friend Jason on the way home from my job one day. He lived near where I worked and had just moved with my family and since I hadn't seen him for a while I figured we'd hang out, catch up. No one answered so I left a message.

20 minutes later my cell rang. It was his wife S. She told me he was no longer there and that they had finally split up. I was not surprised to hear it as they had been in a bad way since their first house had been foreclosed upon. Jason is my friend but he is not a steady, pay your bills type guy.

She flirted with me on the phone and told me to come by anytime. We began talking on the phone a lot, she and J had been married almost as long as I had been and it was a big adjustment being on her own with 3 kids. We got to be very good friends. My wife and she got a long so we had her over, played cards, hung out.

S was beautiful to me. She was everything my X was not. She was blonde and voluptuous, bubbly and feminine. Over the years she had flirted with me but she flirted with most guys so I had written off anything that might happen as daydreaming. Besides, Jason and I were pretty tight and I wouldn't want to cross a friend in that way.

I finally stepped over the line on my X again when I brought S home late one night. She had her oldest daughter sitting and had been playing cards with me, my X, and her friend. I drove her home and walked her in and when I was going to leave she gave me a hug. But it was not a normal hug, where you make contact with your arms and say goodbye. She melted into my arms, she totally relaxed into them, and it lasted a long time. I wanted it to last forever. I knew what was coming next and my heart was hammering with excitement.

The kiss was like a glass of cool water after a thousand mile walk through the desert. Her lips were soft and warm and it was beautiful. I felt soul to soul with her, it was that special a kiss. I wanted to stay in that moment forever but I knew I had to get home. She tried to get me to stay but I had to go.

She whispered in my ear that she knew it wasn't right but she didn't want to think about it, that she just wanted to be selfish, that she just wanted me. It stirred in me many conflicting emotions, love, lust, guilt, fear.

Self preservation was strong in me and I forced myself to break away from her and get home. She didn't make me feel bad about it at all.

I didn't feel very bad about it, as is typical of me when I do something of that nature. I couldn't wait to get back to see her again, and as I always do I found time. I was back with her the next day in the afternoon and she had arranged for no kids to be around.

We went to her room and it was not a spectacular first time. It was good, but not out of this world. I had trouble relaxing, maybe because it was in her bed and I was afraid my friend might pop in, but we got along all right. Our sex had a dreamlike quality because I had been fantasizing about her forever, the whole time thinking it would never really happen, and now that it was I felt outside of myself in a way. It was like I was watching myself in a movie.

We talked constantly. I racked up huge phone bills on my cell, driving around at work while we talked. We emailed and IM'd when I was at home and couldn't talk on the phone in front of my X. I took her with me as my secretary/helper on my weekend job so I could give her some money and we could be together.

After work we would go to this little motel on Dix and get room number 4 and spend time together. She had a beautiful body, and it was even more gorgeous naked. I loved to go down on her and kiss her all over, she had been deprived for many years of any of that. Her description of sex with my friend was that he was a terribly selfish guy in bed, and that throughout her marriage she had been unsatisfied. It was very odd considering he had been the neighborhood player when we were kids, girls lined up around the block for him. This was for me another eye opening lesson in the fact that you don't really know most people (if anyone) like you think you do.

I'll never forget the first time she blew me. We were laying in bed after some hot sex in room number 4, kissing and cuddling, chatting like lovers do. I was saying we had to get going but she didn't want to yet. She slid down under the sheet and took my limp cock in her mouth, and very quickly it was hard as a rock. My X gave a terrible blow job, always managing to bite me no matter how hard she tried not to. After years of that I had stopped wanting it. S 's mouth was wonderful, she did things with her lips, tongue and throat that drove me wild. I came close to coming but have never been able to do that in a woman's mouth. I pulled her up and kissed her hard, then spun her around and gave it to her doggy style.

Through all this she never asked me to leave my X. I think she knew that I would end up resenting her and wanted me to have the idea myself. I will always love S but deep down even then I knew I couldn't really trust her. She was a master manipulator, and I never saw what was coming next.

It was a great time and we were living in a fantasy. Fantasy is a great place but in the end reality pulls you back. She had no job other than the small amount of dough I threw her on the weekend and my friend was paying no support. She had survived on charity from family members and a tax refund she had snatched out from under her soon-to-be-ex-husband hours after it had been deposited in their joint account. The bills began to pile up and there was no relief in sight, and her car was acting up.

The car acting up led her to call Paul, an ex boyfriend of many years past. Paul is what I would call a douche bag (no doubt some readers would say 'consider the source, pal'). He is the sort to bully a woman, to control her, to break her down and mold her identity as he sees fit. He broke S's heart long ago because he's also a cheater. And like most cheaters his guilty conscience drives him to watch his woman like a hawk and accuse and snoop after her, projecting his own insecurities on her.

Paul fixes cars for a living and that was his in to S's life. She asked him to fix the car and that's the way they began talking again. Little did I know they were talking for a long time and no doubt forming plans to give love another try together. I didn't find out until S's birthday.

Coincidence had arranged for me to be alone all weekend her birthday and we were supposed to spend that weekend at my house. She was supposed to come over Friday night and she didn't show up until 3 hours late because dinner with her mom and Paul had run late. We drank and got drunk and I fucked her six ways from Sunday all over my couch downstairs. She got it good and it was very memorable. It would be the first from last time we ever got it on, little did I know.

She rushed out when we were done and made promises she'd be back the next day but never came back. I tried to call, email, got no response. It was 2 days later she told me her and Paul were going to be moving in together and it dawned on me that there was more going on between them than talk.

I found myself in a terrible place. When I was with C I had told her I loved her, had believed it myself at the time, but I never truly imagined myself with her long term. She was 10 years older than me and while we each liked the way the other played the game I knew I would not be leaving my X for her. With S, I found myself daydreaming all the time that some how some way we might end up together. We were incredibly compatible in many ways, and I really felt we had a chance. When she walked away from me to be with her Paul I guess you could say it really broke my heart; if a rotten, selfish person like me has such a thing.

What was worse was that I knew I had no right to be angry. I was after all married, and it wasn't fair to expect her to spend so much time alone while I was with my X. If she had wound up with someone I could even partially respect or trust to treat her right maybe the outcome would have been different, or maybe not.

I pouted and I ignored S, but ignoring someone who is freshly in love and not allowed to talk to any males per her new creep of a boyfriend is not much of a punishment. I sent her a nasty email detailing what I saw as a rock-solid logical argument against getting back with Paul who clearly had not changed his asshole-ish ways. She walked right past it and in our subsequent conversations I realized she really believed she could change Paul just like she had thought she could change Jason. I realized it was hopeless, that reality was what it was. She moved in with Paul and I heard very little from her as his watchful eye was on her.

I remember coming home late from an appointment with my accountant shortly after all this and, in the middle of talking about that year's tax return with my X, I suddenly burst into tears. I tried to play it off as all the stress I'd been under lately but I think my X knew at least part of the real story. (Years later, when in a fit of exasperation and anger I screamed at her that I didn't love her and was having an affair, the first question she asked me later was 'Is it S?'). I went in the bathroom and laid in a hot bath and tried to decompress.

In the days following my breakdown I accepted that I had been a fool, and that I had no one to blame but myself. I felt bitterness towards S, and an intensifying bitterness against the world itself. My internal dialogue took on a profound change at that point. I decided, selfishly I now realize, that I was never going to let myself get hurt again. I felt like I had to be with my X in order to be with my kids, but that wasn't going to stop me from getting my kicks. I would indulge every hedonistic urge I could, any hearts broken in my life from that point on would be the other party's, not mine. It was at this point the downward spiral truly began.

I began to prepare and execute my plans at this point. In the past I had wandered around, not really looking for trouble but receptive to it to varying degrees. I was passive; when opportunities presented themselves to me sometimes I walked away, other times not. The key difference to my new train of thought was that I was now actively looking for trouble. I had cast aside guilt and questions (delusions?) of morality and was now all the way in the game.

I'm overly careful in most things I do, and especially in matters that handled carelessly could hurt me. I did not call people from my cell, I did not communicate by any email that I used in my real life. I used throw away cell phones and called from work, I covered any tracks I made on the internet by using a dilapidated old computer in the basement that X did not even know was functional, let alone on the internet. Even on that broken old machine I cleaned and swept meticulously, using no stored passwords or profiles, even disconnecting the power supply when I left it so there would be no stumbling upon my secret life.

Adult Friend Finder opened a whole new world for me. I had slowly been becoming aware of the difference between the persona people projected at work, at the PTA, at church, and the dirty things people wanted to do but kept hidden. I have always been fascinated by the duality of people's psyches. I was looking for what people had in their closet. I wanted to find people like me, people no longer content to daydream about the forbidden pleasures of infidelity.

I was much less alone than I realized. There were all sorts of people living the life all around me. There were swingers and cheaters and lonely people just looking for the quick and easy all over the place. Of course, just like in singles bars, there were more men than women but the number of women was much higher than one imagined.

AFF provided plenty of material to pore over for me, blogs and videos of real people doing things simply because they enjoyed them, not for money. That is what I was after: the real thing. There is no substitute for it. There is lots of porn all over the internet and cable television that does nothing for me whatsoever. The women are stunningly beautiful and the photography is good, the performers do all the nasty things that people daydream about, but to me it's fodder. You can tell in the woman's eyes that it's false, that she is not thinking about what's happening to her, that her mind is only on the thousands she'll pocket. Real people doing what they do for real reasons, that is what appeals to me.

There were frustrations at first. You'd spend time talking to someone, trying to arrange meeting with them, and then they'd disappear or you wouldn't hear from them. Got stood up once, that was very depressing.

The first connection that hit pay dirt was with Keisha. She is the first person I met sight unseen, all I knew is that she wanted to get down. I met her at a public place (always a must the first time) and we talked over coffee.

She was by the far the biggest I've ever been with. She had short, straight hair and thick sensuous lips. She was dark skinned and professed a preference for white men. We did not click like I have with some people in the past, there was an awkwardness to us that I think we both sensed. Still, she asked me if I wanted to get a room and I said yeah, let's do it.

We went to the motel S and I had spent so many afternoons at and without asking she got room 4. We went in and sat on the bed and tried to talk a bit more. She had never met anybody like this before.

I asked her what she wanted to do and she asked me if I would go down on her. She said she had never had that before. I said sure that was fine. I figured I owed her at least that much since she paid for the room. She got undressed and I got on my knees by the foot of her bed between her legs.

It drove her absolutely crazy. I've never seen anybody that turned on by my tongue. It was really just the tip of it too; I didn't want to get too deep into it because the odor was pungent. She was very wet and the scent of it was overpowering. It was not so m much a bad smell, just very strong.

Though I wasn't really into this at the time, the response I got from her turned me on something fierce. I got naked and got on top of her and got to pounding on her tight, wet, pussy. Her belly kind of got in the way and it wasn't comfortable so I asked her to turn over for me. She pulled out some baby oil and offered it to me, told me she would try to take it in the ass for me because she knew I liked it that way from my blogs. I said that was OK, the old fashioned way would be fine this time around.

She lay on her belly, on the bed while I stood behind and pounded on her. Despite the condom, I came quick and hard. We got dressed and we talked a little bit more. I washed off thoroughly in the bath room and threw away flushed the condom down the toilet.

I felt good because I had made another mark, and the fact that she was the first black chick I had balled was titillating as well. The new is a powerful aphrodisiac. However, Room number 4 was weighing heavy on me and I missed S a lot.

I did not feel the need to make a repeat date with Keisha, though we stayed friends. We just had not hit it off outside my curiosity and her enjoying my oral skills. I wrote a blog about missing S and I stayed the course.

I was excited that this was going to work. I had my safe place, my kids with me, and now I had adventure in my life. I continued on my path of infidelity.

I met T on AFF. She was originally from Michigan but she lived in North Carolina with her husband and 4 children.

I question at times if fate is real, if on some level it is all predetermined. In my care to conceal my identity from any potential hanger-on, stalker, or black-mailer, I had inserted some incorrect information into my AFF profile. I figured if things ever got hot I could delete it and anybody who knew me from there I didn't want catching up with me would be less likely to find me with a bunch of bogus information to go on. Also, I always knew my X could get suspicious and check AFF...or go on there to make a profile for her and stumble on me completely out of the blue!!! A sort of updated version of that old pina colada song, only without a happy ending.

One of the things I fudged was my zip code. I used the one for the city adjacent to mine rather than my own. By chance, it happened to be T's father's zip code, which was where she was coming to visit that summer. If I had used, for example, my old zip code just 15 miles away, she might never have found me in her search.

Also, I didn't post a face pic because you never know who's out there looking, so I used one of my cock instead. I included in my headline that due to my job I was unable to post a face pic, but would share one upon being asked if I felt I could trust the person. T said she normally never clicked on dick pics, but that my headline made her figure why not ask for the face shot. Again, I came very close to her never making contact with me.

She was my height, with hazel eyes and reddish blonde hair. She was thick; big tits and ass, like I like it, with a bit of a waist but she was definitely not what you would call fat. She had a pretty smile and was a very engaging conversationalist.

She said my picture was beautiful and she was hoping to meet up with me when she came up north. She gave me a story, most of it false, about her husband and her having a wonderful open relationship, and that she had his blessing to play around while he was out of the country on business. She was Bi and also very into S&M.

We hit it off really well. We were just friends and we were both freaky. She told me about all the dirty things she was doing down there and I told her about my adventures up here. We fed each other's imagination, we talked and instant messaged dirty whenever we could.

I believed the things I was saying. It really did feel good to be friends with her, to want each other sexually, to think of each other as sexual objects basically, but without any ownership. She was not my property; I knew she could be, in fact was, fucking all sorts of different guys. It turned me on. I had only had square relationships in the past, relationships where I and the other person both had to stick to the old crap story: that it was love and we only wanted each other and that all other people didn't matter. The basic fairy tale stuff. I get caught up in it myself sometimes and really want to believe, but it's not true. I may love a person, I may want to be with that person, but to say I don't want anyone else because of that is just not true. It is not blinding love that keeps a person from cheating, is the restraint one applies to himself to be loyal to their partner that keeps him or her from cheating. It takes conscious effort and it's not easy. Yet we keep telling each other (and ourselves) these fairy tales that love is some kind of magic that cures all. It's nonsense. If love makes the world go round, it directs the world. The driving force is passion, love directs passion. Passion is love's raw, uncalculated cousin. It cares not for right or wrong.