After almost fifteen years of marriage, I finally admitted to myself that I have a problem. It started around my ninth year of married life and has continued to this day. I am in some ways, like an alcoholic. The first step is to admit you are one, and the next is trying to stay clean. I'm trying to stay clean but it's a struggle. My addiction is Ryan. Yeah, as you might've already guessed, he's not the guy I married. My husband is Joe. He's handsome and a perfect husband and father. I love him deeply. We have two children, ages twelve and fifteen. As you can see from the age of my oldest, I was preggy when we married.
Joe is six-foot, dark hair, brown eyes, and very handsome. He's a VP and regional manager for one of the large wine companies, steadily making his way up through the ranks to an executive position. As a result, we live well. He is athletic and still youthful, despite working hard to provide for me and his children. That is why my deceit is even more despicable. I'll get to that in a moment.
We are both cyclist and stay trim, which is why we frequently get envious, and sometimes, lustful looks from both sexes. Narcissistically we enjoy their attention and I admit that every once in a while I spot a guy that makes me drool. Joe has also admitted as much to me about some chick he sees with nice tits. It has provided us a few laughs and often as not, some hot sex sessions between us. Neither of us have a thought of entertaining these impulses, believing them to be natural responses to the opposite sex. I always knew Joe would never cheat on me, and that I'd never cheat on him - mostly.
I'm a five-six, slim built, blond with a 35 inch bust, and what Joe calls, "an ass to die for." I admit I like to wear jeans or shorts to show it off, and Joe likes it too. From day one, mine and Joe's sex life has always been great. He's a good lover, attentive, inventive and tender. We are not prudes. We sometimes watch porn and in the past have even tried out several sexual devices.
One night after a party at which a friend described her boyfriend's "huge cock", we measured Joe and discovered his rather thin, slightly curved, uncircumcised cock was just a mark shy of eight inches when hard. We had heard that six was average for most men, so I considered myself lucky in that respect.
Now, I'll tell you some things that will get me called all sorts of bad names, but I feel compelled to do it. My therapist said that sometimes, baring the soul cleanses the heart. If confession is good for the soul, I hope doing this helps. I started off my attempt to write by relating my entire story into a tape recorder, and then transcribing it into writing which I hope eliminates most typos. I'm doing my best at this so please don't be too critical.
Cleo said I could be as vague, or as detailed as I wanted, and I chose the latter because maybe in some small way that will help cleanse some of my sins. I plan to put every little detail in here, no matter how bad it makes me look. I know that in the end, in order to reach absolution, finally I must also confess these misdeeds to my husband. So far, I haven't had the courage.
About five years ago we had a summer kitchen installed behind the pool house in our spacious back yard. We live on the outskirts of a large city and obtaining the building permit had been a hassle, but eventually the crew showed up and work began. The owner of the construction company was a man named Ryan. Since Joe was gone most of the time it fell on my shoulders to handle all the details.
When I opened the front door that first day I stood looking up at the most gorgeous hunk of manhood I'd ever laid eyes on. This guy was about six-three, wide shoulders, slim hips, nice arms in his sleeveless t-shirt, rugged tanned features and sensuous lips. His expressive gray eyes captivated me instantly. He had about a two-day growth of dark stubble but that just made this guy look better. No kidding, he was the total package. His voice was deep and soothing as he introduced himself, making me shiver. I stammered something back like a stupid little school girl.
As he took his crew into the back and started work, I stood in my living room watching his gorgeous ass walk away, quietly whispering a soft, "Ah shit . . . wow . . . wow." I mean the guy simply radiated sex! Feeling like a pervert, I finally got a grip and laughed at myself for such an overblown reaction to a strange man. Over the years I'd been attracted to other men but none had ever made me lose my breath before - or my moral compass.
Each day as things ended, Ryan came and knocked on my back door to update me on their progress. I felt the same electrical charge each time he did, which always left me feeling helpless . . . a little out of control. The fourth day fell on a Saturday and I noticed Ryan let his crew go earlier in the afternoon.
I stood at the kitchen sink looking out the window at the growing structure that would soon be our summer kitchen, pleased at how well it was turning out. Ryan suddenly appeared, walking from behind one of the new walls, stepping to a small tree and pulling down the front of his sweatpants. He reached inside. I couldn't believe he was going to take a piss right in my back yard!
Before I could move a muscle, he flopped out a cock that made me gasp - balls the size of grapefruits! The thing looked like a slab of meat! I'd once heard a girlfriend refer to some guy as having "five pounds of cock and balls." This is what she must've meant! My husband's penis has a foreskin, but this one was just a big bulbous mushroom resting on a ridged stem that was much longer, easily twice as thick, as Joe's.
My hand covering my mouth, shocked wordless, I simply stared as he stood with hands on his hips and emptied his bladder into the bush with an expression of total rapture. It was almost the look Joe got each time he was about to climax, when we made love. Ryan pissed for a long time, kind of like the bull I'd once seen as a child when I'd visited the county fair with my dad. Afterward, he just stood with his head laid back, eyes closed, squeezing and shaking it a bit, enjoying the moment.
As for me, I was shaken. My heart was pounding inside my chest, mouth dry as cotton, and my legs trembling so hard I thought they might collapse. Not understanding my sudden reaction, I froze in front of the kitchen window. My feet suddenly encased in concrete, I simply couldn't move away. As my eyes slowly traveled from his meaty cock to his handsome face, I cried out in alarm as our eyes suddenly locked.
He was staring straight back at me! My heart literally jumped into my mouth as I backed away from the window, unnerved, completely rattled and unsure about what to do. Hidden from his view, I attempted to regain control, quiet my racing heart and shaking hands. In my mind's eye, I could still see his hand gripping that monster cock . . . squeezing it . . . shaking it . . .
I suddenly shuddered violently, realizing my panties were sticking to my crouch. God, it was the most exciting thing I'd ever seen. If Joe's penis was eight inches, Ryan's must be at least eleven or twelve, and thick as my wrist! I found myself licking my dry licks thinking about it, feeling my vagina gush even more juice. What the hell would something like that taste like? Or feel like sliding inside a woman? I shivered again, touching my vagina through the fabric of my shorts as thrills shot through me.
Disgusted and mildly amused with myself, I went into the bedroom and changed panties, also slipping into some clean shorts. I was determined to block any farther images of that cock from my mind. It did little good. I couldn't think about anything else. I decided that as soon as Ryan left, I'd find one of the toys we hadn't used in ages and do what needed to be done. I felt somewhat ashamed, but also I'd never felt so stimulated! Then I heard knocking at the back door.
