The Other Woman Diaries: Nell

Number One- Nell

I am 28 years old, and have been married for the past 4 years. I have been in a solid relationship for 7 years, and I have been fucking a man other than my husband for 6 months.

I read an article about illicitencounters.com a while ago, and it piqued my interest. I work in Bristol and my husband and I live in a leafy suburb; perfect, we thought, for raising a family. It is the sort of neighbourhood where we know most people in the close, and they know us. We host and attend lovely dinner parties, talk politics, family, fashion, literature, the arts, and the rest. I often fantasise that one night the bottles of good red wine will go to all our heads, and we'll end up swinging (literally and figuratively) from the eloquent candelabras, our underwear strewn about the room, being fucked by another woman's husband, by another man's wife, pulling a bunch of keys from a Tiffany bowl and leading the owner away by his tie.

But, we are a respectable, respected couple, and the activity (much like my sex life) is much drier than that. Don't get me wrong, I'm not completely dull. I look at my wedding picture hung pride of place in the living room, my blonde hair delicately curled for the occasion, a daringly red lipstick in an attempt at rebellion, and the corset of the dress pulled my little waist in and heaved my breasts northwards. Due to a lack of children, I look quite similar now. I'm known for my "naughty" sense of humour and "risqué" outfits in the office (I work as a freelance journalist, it helps when my work takes me away for a few weekends in a row, if you get my meaning), but my life bores me. I don't want children yet, 7 years of sex with one man has left me with a permanent rabbit addiction, and the need for a bit of spice again.

So, one www. later and I'm signed up to one of the most popular extramarital affairs sites on the web. One week later I'm being assessed so I may be suitably paired. Ten days later I get an email. 32 hours later I receive a phone call. The following weekend I'm in a Hilton hotel, tied to the bedposts of a presidential suite with Hermès scarves, a dildo up my ass and being thoroughly rodgered by Robert. Hmm. Rodgered by Robert. I like the alliteration.

Robert is 32, married to Katie for 8 years, tall, fair hair, green eyes, husky voice, nice strong arms and broad shoulders and a fair knowledge of how to give a girl a good time. I know a bit about his home life, his wife is pregnant with their fourth child (4 children in 6 years! Insanity) and she has refused to have sex with him during every pregnancy so far. Due to the rapid rate at which she's popping them out, Robert has only had sex 12 times since little Johnny was born in 2002. Then he met me.

The terms of our relationship were set out early on. He wanted utter discretion, as did I; neither of us were looking for a divorce. We agreed we both loved our partners, but wanted to sex things up a bit. We both ticked the same boxes in regards to kinks, light bondage, anal play (giving and receiving, from both parties), swinging and group sex.

Robert and I decided we would book separate rooms in the same hotel, and meet in the bar at 8pm. He offered to take me for dinner, I accepted, we talked, got drunk, ate ridiculously expensive food and then retired to a room (his). The alcohol had got us both pretty hot, and some gentle tickling under the table in the restaurant had got my knickers quite damp. I had dressed to impress that night, and I must admit my midnight blue dress looked excellent in a pile on the floor. I had chosen my underwear carefully, I am a mistress after all, so the M&S grey standard had to go, but too far down the slut route could turn him off. In the end it didn't matter all that much, the carefully chosen black lace soon joined the dress on the floor.

To be fair, the sex really started in the elevator on the way up to his room. We were surrounded by mirrors on all sides, and when we stepped into the lushly carpeted little room we stood conservatively side by side, eyes front, arms by sides. Then, while still staring straight ahead, he reached around and pinched my bum. I turned to face him, rose up on my toes and took his bottom lip between my teeth and bit. Hard. I swear the groan came from a long lost animalistic place inside of him and he took both of my bottom cheeks in his big hands and roughly pulled my hips to his. At the same time he deepened the kiss, sending shivers of desire up and down my spine, straight into my stomach and sending a gush of desire into my pussy. Yum yum. The elevator stopped, the doors opened, and Robert managed to disentangle himself from me and mine. I smoothed the sides of my dress down and tried to muster some kind of dignity to pass the elderly gentleman and his disapproving wife as we exited. "Evening, General," Robert commented, and I had to stifle my giggles like an excited teenager.

By the time the door to the hotel was open I had already removed Robert's cock from it's Ralf Lauren prison and was stroking it to full prominence. Before the door was closed he had pulled my dress over my head, and while he was reaching over to switch on the light, I dropped to my knees and took the lovely thick head of his cock between my lips. He moaned again as I started to flick my tongue over the salty smooth head of him, then took his cock deeper and deeper, 'til it hit the back of my throat. The husband was but a distant memory now, and I reached between my legs to push my panties aside and let my fingers start to work on my now gorgeously wet pussy.

With a grunt of male pride Robert pulled me to my feet and lifted me, fireman style over his shoulder to carry me to the bed. He threw me down roughly and quickly shed the rest of his clothes. Then he gently bent his head down to suck at the wet crotch of my underwear, flicking his tongue either side to give me an idea of what was about to come. He pulled my panties to one side and his tongue delved into my wet folds, drinking up my wetness and teasing my clit with expert flicks. It didn't take me long to reach a screaming orgasm, my hands tugging at his hair and his thumb making little circles around my opening.

I have no idea where he produced the scarves from, but I found myself being tied up while still feeling the pulses of my orgasm inside me. I didn't mind, he was tying me so loosely I could easily pull free if I wanted to. But the idea of being tied up was nice, and after he completed each scarf he bent to lick and nibble and suck on each nipple in turn. I murmured in appreciation of this, and his sucking got harder, enough to be painful. I loved it. He rocked back on his heels to admire his handiwork, me all tied up, wet where his tongue had been, hair all rumpled and makeup smudged. He went to his overnight bag and removed a bulbous purple dildo, obviously intended for rear entry. He returned to the bed and took both my heels in one of his big hands and literally folded me in two, to allow himself access to my secret entrance.

He licked me first, all around my arsehole to lubricate me properly. I loved the little flicks, teasing all the sensitive nerve endings there. He spat on my anus and used this to ease the dildo up my arse. I gasped with pleasure as I felt my ring expand around the intruder, then groaned as he forced me to take more of the cool, smooth rubber inside my delicate passage. I clenched my bottom cheeks and felt it move inside me, changing position ever so slightly when I tensed and released both these and my vaginal muscles.

And then it was there. The lovely big head of his cock was nudging at the entrance to my vagina, which was sopping wet ready for him. He teased me, rubbing it up and down, over my clit, down to nudge against the dildo. Then moved it back, and grabbing my ankles again and rudely pulling my legs apart, he used his thigh muscles to angle and push his cock inside me.

We both moaned as he pushed deeper and deeper into my wetness, then rested my ankles on his shoulders and folded me over again- the perfect position for me to appreciate his cock in my pussy, and the dildo in my ass. His tongue met mine and I tasted my own juices on his face as he fucked me properly, getting really deep to appreciate every inch of me. His head dropped occasionally to bite or suck hard on my nipples- obviously learning quickly that I like pain there. I think I came a split second before he did, and he pumped his sperm inside me one, two, three times calling my name each time. I gushed, and felt my warm juices slide down my thighs and over my arsehole where the dildo still rested. He went to pull it out, and I giggled, and told him to leave it there as I lead him to the shower.

As we showered he wouldn't let me touch his cock, it hadn't been inside a woman since he had impregnated his wife 5 months earlier and was sensitive as to the pounding he had just given. Feeling naughty, I instead removed the dildo from my own ass and slid it up his, then fucked him from behind with it until he came again, this time coming with only a tiny amount of sperm compared to the amount he had released into me earlier.

We dried off and went back to the bedroom. I went to leave, but he valiantly pointed out I would not be able to suck his morning glory from all the way up in the 42nd floor, and I should stay.

So I did, and did fuck him again in the morning, this time with me on top, him roughly squeezing my breasts.

So, that was our first of many hotel room fucks, away from our respective spouses. He assured me that his wife was too obsessed with her pregnancy and children to notice the frequency of his weekends away, and my husband was understanding that my career was important to me, and occasionally took me outside of the area. To this date neither of us have been discovered, and now even with 4 children Robert is more interested in his mistress than the woman who bore them to him. To me, my affair is what keeps life sweet. I'll keep it going until I'm found out, but then, maybe even that won't stop me.

-Nell

**Keep an eye out for the next story of dirty extramarital affairs!**