The Serendipitous Affair

The Serendipitous Affair

I, Mark Vanacker, am probably more like a typical married man than most guys will admit to. While I love my wife and kids I can't help fantasizing about fucking another woman. Get off your high horse if you're a hetero male and think that you're any different -- because chances are 5-1 that you aren't.

While I fantasized about fucking another woman it wasn't something that I'd be seriously looking to do it since I knew that I didn't have the intestinal fortitude to blatantly seek out others, and my standard was that she had to really hot -- even hotter than my five foot four inch (1.6 meters) 120 pound (54 kg) beautiful, kind. but fiery, wife Veronica, who most guys would consider about a 9.5 on a 10 point scale; and she'd have to be discreet since getting caught would ruin my life. I wasn't at all interested in the flirty twenty-somethings in my office not only because they weren't 10s and weren't discreet, but also because over time the proverb "don't shit where you eat" has been proven to be true.

So -- even though I maintained my fantasy from about thirty to thirty five years of age -- I never thought that I'd pull it off.

Then serendipity hit.

############

I had a rare work trip to meet with a group of people in the same basic business, although we were not competitors. It was essentially in the form of a seminar for three days and two nights in a city about 200 miles from my residence, not too far to drive, but certainly too far not to stay overnight.

At the seminar I met lots of good, intelligent, and helpful people -- one of whom also happened to be hot. Her name was Gillian Morse. She looked like she was about thirty years old, but during conversation where people talked about their backgrounds, it was clear that she had to be between thirty eight and forty two -- by far the best looking woman that age that I had ever had direct contact with.

Gillian also had an interesting background. She became an EMT right out of High School and didn't start college until she was twenty one, and graduated in three years with a degree in business, but also with other courses in health sciences which were easy for her because of her background as an EMT.

Gillian and I really seemed to hit it off. We had great conversations the first day and night of the seminar, and met for an early morning workout session in the hotel's gym the second morning. She showed me how svelte and athletic that she is; I showed her how strong that I am [relevant later on I'm six feet four inches (1.93 meters) tall, weigh 230 pounds (104 kg), can military press my weight and can do one hand curls with fifty pounds (23 kg)]. When we ate breakfast together after our workout our knees, hands, and arms often seemed to "inadvertently" come into contact with each other.

By the time that an impromptu party came along after dinner the second night I was convinced that Gillian was not only slightly hotter than Veronica, but also because she is much taller (she is six feet, 1.8 meters) than Veronica fucking her would be a significantly different experience. What was also clear was that she had as much interest in me as I had in her and that the only thing holding us back was how trusting we were that the other would remain discreet.

Gillian was a little more "out there" than I was and, I found out later, had had a "dry" period in her love life because of her husband's temporary illness. Therefore, at the impromptu party she maneuvered me into a secluded corner. Neither of us had been drinking alcohol, which made our forthrightness even more surprising than it otherwise would have been.

"I'm going to be blunt, Mark," she started out. "It seems that we have a mutual attraction but are reluctant to pursue it since we haven't known each other for long and are worried about trusting the other person to be discreet, and we're naturally circumspect."

I stared into her enchanting aquamarine eyes for a long time before responding "I couldn't have said it better myself."

"I love my husband and kids, and don't ever want to hurt or disappoint them," she continued.

"I feel the same way about my wife and kids," I sincerely replied.

"Are you willing to take a chance on me? Do you think that the reward will be worth the risk?" she inquired.

"Hell yes -- how to we go about it?" I responded.

"Have you talked to your wife and kids tonight?" she asked.

"Yes, before dinner," I replied, "and I've had my room phone forwarded to my cell phone; and you?"

"Yes, I talked to my husband and kids right after dinner. So...since

no one else from the seminar is on my floor -- room 710," she smiled, "why don't I circulate for fifteen more minutes then go up to my room. You circulate for fifteen minutes more after that and then take the stairs to my room and knock softly four times and hard twice."

"See you in half an hour," I replied, squeezing her hand.

##############

Gillian and I did exactly as planned, and really sold it by not having any more contact with each other during the party and even acting flirty with other seminar attendees. When I knocked on 710 Gillian answered naked; apparently she didn't believe in wasting time. Upon seeing her my cock hardened so quickly that it hurt when it smashed into my zipper. "Get your clothes off and let's take a quick shower," she stage whispered.

I do believe that was the fastest that I ever disrobed in my life. We mauled each other as we stumbled toward the bathroom. Thankfully Gillian's room must have been a luxury one because her shower stall was bigger than the one in my room, giving us plenty of space to work over each other's bodies as we cleaned each other off.

Gillian obviously enjoyed it when after we toweled off I lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed. "I'm too big to normally be manhandled like that," she giggled.

As I laid her down I marveled that her tits and thighs were the perfect size for my tastes, and that her pussy was unusually small for a woman six feet tall. I eagerly moved my head to her crotch."

Gillian was the most multi-orgasmic woman that I had ever been with, or heard about. Within ten minutes she came four times from my tongue, lip, and finger work on her vagina. After the fourth she started moaning "Fuck me, fuck me, you bastard!" I was obligated to oblige.

Despite the fact that she was six feet tall and had had two kids penetrating her pussy wasn't possible with one thrust. It took a good two minutes to bury my hog completely -- but what an erotic two minutes it was. Once I was completely planted I started pistoning in-and-out and she started squeezing and releasing her powerful pc muscles. I came faster than any time since my first fuck as a teenager, with the intensity of a tsunami, but Ms. Multi-orgasmic came right with me.

I think that my post-ejaculating cock remained hard for longer than at any other time in my life; apparently it didn't want to leave the moist, muscular, snug heavenly venue it found itself in. Eventually it became flaccid and popped out of her pussy. We both were physically and emotionally drained because even though the total time of our sexual activities wasn't very long it was intense to the extreme. I pulled her to me so that our chests were in contact, dragged a blanket over us, and soon we were in dreamland.

I woke up when the clock read 3:03 a. m. I went to the bathroom, and when I returned Gillian was awake, smiled, and did her own business. When she got back her smile was even bigger. "Want to pretend that we're a pair of horny Dobermans? I know that I'm in heat."

I laughed, we got into a sixty nine to stimulate each other, and then she got on her hands and knees and growled. Again penetration was deliciously slow but once I was buried we both put our all into banging back and forth. Her pendulous tits slapping into each other really spurred me on, and I was even more spurred on when I grabbed hold of both of the heavenly objects on her chest and lightly squeezed and released them. She seemed to really like that because she came twice in quick succession, and the second time her pc muscles clamped down so hard on my cock that I forcefully came too.

Once we came down from our powerful orgasms we again lay chest-to-chest and were again quickly back to sleep.

Thankfully, our last seminar session started at 10 a. m. because when we woke up at 8:30 we didn't want to leave her bed. Then with a diabolical grin Gillian said "OK, let's get ready for a workout."

"God, Gillian," I moaned, "I would be worthless in the gym right now; you sucked the life force out of me."

"I didn't mean in the gym, bozo," she chuckled. "I meant here. I'm sure that we can burn up more calories per minute in bed than in the gym."

With that she sucked my cock for a minute -- despite my morning malaise that's all it took to get hard -- and then mounted me, held my cock upright, and then slowly lowered herself onto me. As she rode me like a rented mule she swore a blue streak while I mauled her boobs with alacrity. Again she came multiple times before I shot my wad.

This time when we separated we took a quick shower together -- no real hanky-panky. I got dressed and snuck out the door and down the staircase to my room, while she packed up since we needed to check out before the session started. She got to the seminar exactly on time, I was only two minutes late.

At lunchtime we decided it best to go our own ways since we didn't want to have matching "just fucked" looks, but she asked for a ride back instead of taking a puddle jumper like she had come here on. She lived only about ten miles from my house in the same metropolitan area. I readily agreed.

###########

We left the hotel that the seminar was in about 5:15 p. m. for our drive back. The first half hour we chatted about how much fun we had had, and how intensely rewarding our sexual intercourse was. Then we both admitted that since the glow from our gymnastics was starting to fade that we probably both would feel guilty. "I've never cheated on Paul, before," she sighed when we were about an hour into our drive.

"Nor me on Veronica," I replied. "While I know that I'll feel guilt I'll just channel that into being an even better husband and father," I smiled, "and I sure as hell will never regret having had sex with you. As I said several times already, it was supernatural!"

Gillian was pensive for a couple of minutes, then replied "What a good way to look at things. I'll use this experience to become a better wife and mother too," she smiled.

Then we changed the subject and talked about numerous interests that we had in common.

We had stopped just for a fast-food meal on the way home, so when we approached Gillian's place it was about 8:50 and dark. The area where she lived didn't have mansions, but the houses were good-sized and spaced very far apart. As I pulled up to the curb in front of her house behind an old blue pickup truck she gasped. "My front door is open, and I recognize that truck as one that seems to have reconnoitered the neighborhood."

"Call 911," I said as I got out of the car and moved toward her house.

"Be careful," she moaned.

When I got to the front door I literally ran into a guy who was carrying a TV set and attempting to leave. He sure didn't look like the photo of Paul that Gillian had showed me -- at least not with the ski mask on his face. I grabbed him by the neck and smashed his head into the wall twice, rendering him unconscious. I heard a voice further inside the house, so I ducked behind a wall between the vestibule and what appeared to be the living room.

"You dumb fuck, why did you drop the TV," I heard from a voice approaching on the other side of the wall I was positioned behind. When the voice got closer it said "Oh fuck -- what happened to you?"

I saw a second guy with a ski mask on kneeling over the first unconscious guy, and with a gun in his hand closest to me. I quickly moved toward him. When he turned toward me I smashed him in the face with my right elbow while grabbing his gun hand with my left, then hit him three more times before it was clear that he was out. Then I picked up the gun -- a simple.38, which I was familiar with -- and walked further into the house.

In the kitchen I came upon Paul, zip-tied to a chair, with a gag on and with bruises on his face. I undid his gag and whispered "How many are there?"

"Two," he whispered back.

Relieved I got a kitchen knife, cut off his zip ties, and asked where the kids were and if he was all right.

"The kids are at a slumber party and I'm not hurt too badly," he replied. Then he asked "Who are you?"

"Oh, sorry," I mumbled, obviously embarrassed, "My name is Mark Vanacker. I was at the seminar with Gillian. She didn't want to take her puddle-jumper flight back because turbulence was predicted, and since I live only ten miles from here drove her back. When we saw the open front door I came to investigate and she called 911."

Lots happened after that. Paul went out to my car to hug Gillian, I stood guard over the two miscreants who were just awakening, and the cops were there quickly. I put the gun on the floor before the cops came into the house. Paul had already given the first two responders the basic facts -- and that I was a good guy -- so they didn't confront me although I kept my hands up anyway and pointed out the.38 to them. By the time that four more cops had arrived the two miscreants had already been cuffed and their ski masks removed, and shortly afterwards they were identified as two criminals with rap sheets a meter long.

I called Veronica and gave her the two minute version of the story and told her that I needed to make a statement at the police station. She was concerned for me, but I assured her that I was fine.

After Paul, Gillian, and I made our statements at the police station, I apologized to Paul for causing the first miscreant to drop and break the TV. He laughed it off and thanked me for saving him. "I'm pretty sure that they would have killed or maimed me before they left," he sighed. "They were really mean dudes and told me that they were going to carve me up after they stole everything valuable."

When Paul went to get his car to pick up Gillian, she and I had two minutes together. "Who would have thought that fucking you would have saved my husband?" she chuckled. "I guess that I won't feel so guilty after all," she continued as she planted a quick, but zealous, kiss on my lips.

"Maybe we can have a repeat -- I mean the sex, not the house drama," I chortled.

"Maybe," she said as she slipped a piece of paper with her cell phone number on it into my hand, and then walked out to Paul's car. I waited until their taillights disappeared before heading home.

Veronica and the kids were very concerned when I got back. After about twenty minutes they were assured that I was all right. Veronica made me feel great by riding me cowgirl that night -- the first time in my life that I was ridden twice in one day by two different -- and colossally sexy -- women. I went to sleep with a big smile on my face, alternately thinking of fucking first Gillian, and then Veronica.

###########

After the incident at Paul and Gillian's house Paul insisted on having me and my family over for a cookout. Gillian and I were both a little apprehensive that we might give a "tell" about how we felt toward each other, but we concluded that we could be surreptitious and if our families got together we might have a built-in excuse if we somehow slipped up and were caught together in the future. Therefore we enthusiastically got behind it.

The cookout was great. Gillian and Veronica seemed to get alone well, Paul was a stand-up guy, and our kids were about the same age and also seemed to enjoy each other's company. There were only two minor glitches. My seven year old boy -- who looks almost like my clone and is big for his age -- was very enamored with Gillian's eight year old daughter -- who is almost a clone of her; and on the way home Veronica pointed out in a manner hard to read "I didn't know that Gillian was so hot -- you never mentioned that."

A little sticky, but nothing more was said about it.

Despite our obvious physical attraction to each other, Gillian and I were extremely circumspect in arranging other sexual interludes. Both of our jobs were challenging and our offices fifteen miles apart and combined with obligations to our families there wasn't a lot of free time. We didn't do "working late" or "girls' (or boys') nights out." However, when we did get together it was magical.

Partly as a game, and partly to assuage our guilt, a week after each of our sexual interludes we would make a list of all of the things that we had done for our spouse and kids since we'd fucked that went beyond what we were expected to do to make their lives better. Each time we would then try as objectively as possible to evaluate which of us had done the best job, and the other would send the winner $25. Only once -- out of five interludes -- did we consider it a wash. That game, and the fact that our sex lives with our spouses actually seemed to improve (especially the sexual attention we paid to them) really did help assuage our guilt.

Gillian and I had gone a full six weeks without a clandestine fuck -- we had seen each other at an event that both families got tickets to, making my son very happy to see Gillian's daughter again -- when we got a little careless. Veronica was out for the day with important meetings at work, the kids were in school, and in the morning Gillian was visiting a client only a mile from my house. Therefore, for the first time we met at one of our residences -- about 11 a. m. in the guest room in my house.

That particular day Gillian was really revved up and when I ate her with enthusiasm she orgasmed so hard three times in a row that I thought that she might be having an epileptic seizure. Then when I fucked her in the "chairman" position while mauling her pendulous tits I came so hard that I thought that I might be having one. As we were lying naked next to each other, kissing, playing with body parts, and extolling the virtues of the other's sexual abilities my cellphone rang.

I dismissed the call because it wasn't important, but for some reason -- maybe out of paranoia -- I switched over to my "find my phone" screen for the location of Veronica's phone. To my horror I saw that it was only about two miles from my house.

Without showering, Gillian and I quickly got dressed. Since her car was right in front of our house there was no way she could get out or hide, therefore we quickly got cans of soda and sat far apart in the living room having a friendly discussion when Veronica walked in.

When we saw Veronica we were horrified. She looked like a ghost. I jumped up, grabbed her, and asked "What's wrong, Hon?"

She mouthed something unintelligible, and then collapsed.

Gillian immediately sprang into action, drawing on her EMT background. As she worked on Veronica she told me to call 911. After I made the call I rushed back to Gillian and Veronica and Gillian threw me her car keys and yelled "Get the pharmacy bag from the front passenger's seat and bring it in here, quick."

If there is a record for the thirty meter dash, I broke it. There were two prescription bags, so I brought them both in. Gillian selected one, told me to open it up and get the device -- I found out later that it was a bronchodilator of the type that Paul used for emergency asthma attacks -- that was in it out of the packaging. I quickly did, handed it to Gillian, and she got to work forcing nebulized liquid into Veronica's air passageways.

The ambulance got there three or four minutes later. By then it looked like Veronica would survive, but we weren't sure. Gillian told the ambulance drivers what she had done and her opinion of what the problem was. After talking to Gillian they gave Veronica a shot of Epinephrine, and then took her away. "You follow her to the hospital in your car, and I'll clean up here and upstairs," Gillian told me, out of hearing of anyone else.