As I held Kerri's fabulous thighs apart with my hands, pressing on the erogenous zones I had located many weeks before just above and inside of her knees, I furiously tongued, licked, and gummed her distended clitoris. I was rewarded by the scream emanating from her mouth, and the violent twitching of her pelvis. Without giving her a chance to recover I quickly brought my hips even with hers and in one thrust buried my rock hard cock in her sopping wet pussy.
Fucking Kerri was always magnificent but tonight may have been the best yet since she never seemed to come down from her orgasm as she wrapped her legs around my waist and erratically bucked and thrashed while I pummeled her harder and harder. My discharge, and her reaction to it, were so intense that I'm sure that we both temporarily lost consciousness. When we regained awareness I rolled off of her and our smiling lips smacked into each other time and again.
At the time of the sexual escapade recited above Kerri and I were married -- just not to each other. I know that I'm a cheating piece of shit, lower than pond scum on the evolutionary scale, but when my cock is in her cunt I'm the happiest I've ever been in my life so I don't give a rat's ass about my status on the evolutionary scale.
A rational person might ask "If you two were so happy with each other why didn't you divorce your spouses and marry each other?" Normally a fair question, but not in our case. We both had comfortable upper class suburban lives with jobs that were enjoyable but not demanding, our spouses made more money than we did, our standing in our basically conservative community would take a terrible hit that likely would require a move, and our spouses had a really vindictive streak that they had displayed in business and in social situations that made us hesitant to do something to incur their wrath.
Plus, we'd been fucking for five months, averaging three times a week, which had caused our libidos to reach epic proportions so that our sex lives with our spouses had actually improved, both in frequency and enjoyment.
"Aren't your spouses eventually going to find out?" you ask, since spouses always seem to eventually unearth an affair. "Isn't it true that cheaters never win?" you also inquire.
Maybe; but the probability in our case was so low that it was worth the risk. We knew what we were doing, and I'll tell you why.
Kerri and I met eight years ago, before we were married when we had each been out of college two or three years. We worked part-time for the same company as "relationship testers" in New York City.
"What's a 'relationship tester?'" you ask. A fair question since it's either an unusual profession, or avocation that you get paid for, depending upon the individual.
A "relationship tester" is hired by a client of the opposite sex to see if the client's spouse, significant other, or even potential significant other, has a "wandering eye;" that is to see if they are trustworthy. When you work as a relationship tester you are always paired with a target (also called a "mark") that has approximately the same level of physical attractiveness that you have otherwise it wouldn't be fair. Having someone who looked like Kate Upton or Kellie Pickler coming on to 5 foot tall, 260 pound, slovenly nerd would hardly be realistic or just, for example.
The "prime directive" for relationship testers is that you never, ever, have sex with a target. If the target turns out to be untrustworthy you bring it up to a point just before naked contact and then break it off. If you go further, you get fired, and potentially sued, and there is even the remote possibility that you could be arrested for prostitution.
While Kerri and I had met, since our jobs as relationship testers were only part-time we never knew each other well until after we had both been working for the testing company about six months. We came into the office the same Saturday morning to do up our client reports, and edit the audios and videos that were part of our information gathering, for Friday night jobs. We were both frustrated since our targets had been very sexy and a "bad" boy and girl, respectively, but as required we had stopped short of sex.
As Kerri and I talked, we started flirting. We really started to like each other. I think she remarked first, although I was certainly thinking it, that we actually looked a lot alike. We both were tall with medium builds, had blond hair, blue eyes, and similarly shaped noses. I told her that I thought that she was a better-looking female version of me. She laughed.
When we came in to the office again Sunday morning we were as frustrated by two other sexy marks that were "bad" from our Saturday night jobs as were had been on Saturday morning. Before our reports had been finished I passionately kissed Kerri, bent her over the table in the office, gave her a clean handkerchief to put in her mouth, and fucked the ever-loving shit out of her.
At the time we were both a little cynical about relationships so we didn't romance each other, but we did fuck two more times. It was the best sex I had ever had, and unless Kerri was an excellent actress it was the same, or close to it, for her too.
It wasn't more than a week after our third fuck that Kerri had to quit both of her part time jobs and move back to her home town to take care of her mother, who had had a serious accident and no one else to turn to. About two weeks later I met my wife-to-be, Julie.
Julie was an assigned target on a Saturday night. She came from money, and so did her fiancé. Julie turned out to be trustworthy even though it was obvious that she liked me, and we "clicked." I filed my report, with audio and video excerpts, indicating that she was in the highest trustworthy category and thought nothing more of it.
Another three weeks or so after Julie had been my target she screwed up one of my assignments by intercepting me before I was able to approach my mark one Friday night.
"Hi, Blake -- if that is your real name. Remember me?" she said with drink in hand, a sexy look on her face, and provocative clothing and accessories.
"Ah, hi, Julie," I replied. I tried to make the conversation short but she was having none of it. Finally I said, "Listen, I came here to meet someone, so if you'll excuse me..."
She didn't let me finish. "I'm not sure your job tonight is going to work out, Blake, since once you start talking to her I'm going to tell her that you're a relationship tester," Julie said quietly, with a big grin on her face.
There was no use denying it. The look on my face undoubtedly gave it away. "Please don't," I pleaded.
"Let's you and I have a little talk, and a dance or two, then maybe I'll let you get to work," she replied with a diabolical grin.
Turns out that her dumb ass fiancé told her about the testing, something we caution our clients never to do. She got really pissed. To hear her tell it she was getting nervous about marrying him anyway since even though he was good looking and pleasant he was shallow and not too bright -- as evidenced by telling her about the "testing." So, she had dumped him the day before and actually came looking for me. I made her quest easy since I was in the same bar/dance hall that I had met her in three weeks earlier.
After a long talk, a few drinks, and a few dances, we ended up fucking at her condo that night, and staying together the entire weekend. While she wasn't Kerri-esque she was way above average. I quit my job as a relationship tester the next week. A month later she got a promotion that required her to move to city X, and she asked me if I wanted to accompany her. I didn't like my other part-time job, City X had good prospects for what I wanted to do full-time, and I really liked Julie, so I followed her. We lived together in City X for nine months before we got married.
Julie and I had been married about six years when about a year before the events described in the first two paragraphs above I saw Kerri at a party. We were shocked that we reconnected in a different city than we met in and was not either of our home towns, and that we were now both married. She had been married about five years to a guy named Brent Spencer. Neither of us had any kids.
After a private conversation Kerri and I decided not to tell anyone that we knew each other and we exchanged cell phone numbers.
Except for meeting once for lunch and talking on our cell phones five or six times, Kerri and I didn't communicate with each other over the next six months or so. In the meantime, Julie had started to travel a little more with her job leaving me with more time to think -- and I used that time to think about Kerri.
One lonely Thursday night, with Julie not due back until Friday night, I had a strong urge to call Kerri. I had never called her at night before, but I couldn't help myself.
"Hi, Kerri, this is Blake."
