An account about a happily married woman's need for extra curricular sex, with almost anyone.
In this rather long piece, that I toyed about turning into several parts, I am introducing you to a new character. Kim is not real, but she is based on a combination of some women I have known.
From reading about her, I hope you get to know and like her as much as I have from writing this account.
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Chapter 1
It had been over twenty years since her breasts had been touched like this. Over half her life since she'd been naked in such a position. It was more than two decades since she'd held a cock this way. Yes, it was such a long time since she'd been fucked by anyone other than her husband.
In fact, up until recently, Kim had only had full sex with three men in her entire forty two years; two of those being boy friends she'd had before meeting her husband Mark.
For most of her marriage she'd looked on that as an achievement, something to be proud about. Such feelings, however, changed about a year ago. Why? Was it boredom? Was she seeking a sort of freedom? Did she just want more excitement in her life? Was it a need for the experience, perhaps a feeling that if she didn't do it soon she would be too old? Or was it just a latent need that had lain dormant in her for all her adult life? Was it almost like taking up a new hobby now that her two children, aged twenty and eighteen, were largely off her hands
She didn't know for sure. Perhaps a little of each.
What she did know was that it did not mean she didn't love Mark or that she wanted to leave him. It also didn't mean she was seeking love or a new life. She was happy in her present one, but just needed something else.
Fucking new men in her life had become that something else.
Chapter 2
Kim wasn't beautiful, but she was striking. She inherited her natural slimness from her father and her mane of jet-black hair that came down to her shoulders, from her mother. Where her high cheekbones, pert nose and slightly slit, green, eyes came from was anyone's guess. Her lips were on the thin side and her nostrils were just a little too flared for her face to be beautiful, but it was certainly attractive.
She had always looked after her body. Since her schooldays she'd always been involved in some form of exercise or sport with tennis being her chosen one for the past few years. She was lucky that she didn't put weight on easily and after the kids had been born she'd been very serious about her post natal exercises.
She had met Mark when she was only eighteen and they were married within two years. Their marriage was good, not great, but on the whole it worked. They were very good mates even if they weren't really the greatest lovers. If pushed both would admit that bells didn't ring for them when their partner entered the room and each of them knew that they could just as easily be with someone else. Kim put her feelings down to her being very honest and self-aware; Mark ascribed his to being a man. Neither was really convinced that love exists and both were convinced that people talk themselves into pretending they love each other only to find after a few years just what a load of BS that really is. Hence the high and increasing divorce rate.
Having said all that, they had never talked about breaking up. Nothing had come between them that was that serious and neither had done anything to the other that had caused a major rift. They both thought that their relationship was just about as good as most peoples.
They lived in a London suburb in a four bed-roomed Victorian house. They both loved it and they lavished thought, planning, time and money on restoring it and bringing it back to its original glory. They had just about done that.
Mark was in advertising and was doing well. They were ok for money both from what he earned and from a couple of inheritances, so there were no real problems in their life. The kids were good, with James in his second year at university and Sammi just about to go to college. Mark managed four agencies in Europe, so as well as the long hours he was away quite frequently, but that and the hours had never bothered Kim for that gave her time to herself and she valued that greatly.
Kim put part of the reason for her "new life" down to having gone back to work, albeit only part time. It was there that she'd met Kendal, had drinks first then lunch and then dinner with him. She knew she was treading on thin ice. They both were for he was married as well. They frequently saw each other, they chatted and, there was no other word for it, they flirted, something that neither was very experienced or, indeed, very good at.
It was a classic office affair. Two people away from their partners attracted to each other. The build up was so typical, coffees moving onto drinks escalating to lunch, all possibly innocent. But then the big move, the heavy stuff, dinner. That meant lying to partners, the thin end of the wedge, making excuses and making sure when you got home there was no tell tale smell of perfume or aftershave.
In some ways the lying, the excuses and the clear deceiving of the partner is a bigger step than the almost inevitable next one, climbing into bed. It took Kim and Kendal exactly four weeks from being introduced to having sex, one month to get to know each other well enough to go to bed together, twenty eight days from shaking hands to fucking.
It didn't last long.
Office "romances" seem to break into three categories. Long term affairs that just go on endlessly, serious shit where the couple ditch their partners and quickies where the couple have a few shags and find the sex just isn't worth all the guilt, lies and cheating. Kim's was very much in the latter category.
It was after the first time they went to dinner that they kissed, properly that is for he had pecked her on the cheek a couple of times. They lived in different directions from the central London offices they worked in, so they said good night between the restaurant and the tube station. Well they actually said goodnight in a dark little alleyway just off Chancery Lane, to be precise it was in the doorway of number sixteen Bell Street.
Had Kim have given such things much thought beforehand, she might have assumed that being in another man's arms would have worried her a little; it didn't. She could well have felt that being pulled against the body of a man other than her husband might have surprised her; it didn't. And she would surely have believed that being kissed, open mouthed and lip squirmingly by a man she hardly knew would have shocked; it didn't.
On top of that, when she got home and Mark asked, "If she'd had a nice time with the girls from the office," she felt hardly any guilt and no remorse.
The next week one of the girls from the office was having birthday drinks. At Kendal's suggestion, they both added on "and dinner" to the drinks for their partners.
It was after the dinner that Kendal suggested they go back to the office, "for a nightcap." He was quite senior and had his own keys. It was in his office, on the green, leather Chesterfield that, for the first time since she was in her teens, a man other than Mark cupped her breast. That a man other than Mark squeezed and caressed her boob. That a man other than Mark undid a button or two on her blouse and slid his hand inside. And that a man other than Mark eased her tit out of her bra, pinched her nipples and stroked the smooth flesh of her breast.
"God I so want you," he whispered, gently squeezing her breast.
