An Accidental Infidelity

This is the second of four short parts

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It wasn't Philip who ruined me. It wasn't the neighbor boy Mike, either. It wasn't even anyone I knew! I'm a college teacher, and there was a convention in Chicago at one of the big lakeside hotels. It would be tax deductible since it was work related, and Gene and I thought it would be fun to go to it. Gene had been to Chicago before, but I had not. I'd read about its wonderful architecture, however, and I looked forward to seeing it.

Gene got trapped at work (there was an emergency) and so we decided I would still go, even if I went alone. Chicago did not disappoint, and I was in a constant state of awe at how beautiful many of the skyscrapers were in Chicago. I think my favorite was the John Hancock building, but really, everything was gorgeous.

I spent an entire day inside the Art Institute. I could easily have spent a week in it. It's one the great museums of the world. I noticed some men checking me out in the museum, but there were a lot of single women art lovers there, and the men checking me out were mostly with their partners, anyway, thank goodness. Nobody actually hit on me, and I enjoyed myself, losing myself in the gorgeous and occasionally provocative paintings.

I stayed at one of the convention hotels, taking advantage of the convention rates. I had never before been in such a splendid hotel. Gene had asked for a room on a high floor, and the view was nothing less than superb! It was stunning, in fact. I was just a bit overwhelmed.

I didn't know anyone at the convention. I felt I should go to at least a few talks if I were to deduct the trip as a business expense. I picked one that at least had an interesting title, pinned my convention badge over my left breast, and went to the talk. There were around thirty people in attendance, and only five of them were women. Of the five, I was clearly the prettiest. That sounds immodest, but we women are hyper competitive, and we always, automatically, check out the competition.

I should explain. The convention was for college teachers of the STEM subjects (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math) which might explain why attendance was so male dominated. Actually, there's no 'might' about it.

Most of the men checked out every one of us women. I found a seat next to one of the few women, feeling safer that way. As I said, I was prettier than she was, but she was definitely sexier. She wore a short skirt with hose that showed off her perfectly shaped legs. I felt dowdy in my longer skirt. Both of us women had (of course) a man sitting on the other side of us.

The talk was about the history of teaching math in America. It was interesting. Here I was with a PhD in math and I had no idea that much of what we now teach in high school used to be taught in college, and what we now teach in college used to be taught in graduate school! Whoa, no wonder some students have trouble with math!

After the talk I naturally enough left the room in the company of the other woman, whose name I quickly learned was Susan. "I'm Melissa," I said, introducing myself. We went for a coffee and talked nonstop the way two women are wont to do, and we became fast friends. We were both married, and we were both there without our husbands.

We discussed art, movies, concerts, food, and of course our husbands, both their strengths and their faults. We both counted ourselves as lucky in the husband department, and we even discussed such intimate subjects as birth control, and when we planned to have children. It was truly easy to converse with Susan. I felt I was making a real friend.

We decided to take dinner together. We had talked so long it was already the Midwest dinner time of 6PM, so it worked out perfectly. We went to a reasonably priced but nice Mexican food place. A few margaritas and some enchiladas suizas later, we returned to the conference hotel and decided to make a cameo appearance at one of the conference welcome parties.

We were both a little high from the booze (and the joint we had shared just before dinner) and when men asked us to dance (there was dancing music on the sound system for some reason), even though nobody else was dancing, we both looked at each other. Susan gently nodded her head, so we both agreed to dance. Bob chose to dance with me, and Jim picked Susan.

As far as I was concerned, we lucked out with Bob and Jim. If I had not been married, I would have liked to fantasize a little fling with either one of them! They were both handsome and charming, a deadly combination as far as I'm concerned. Bob had a hard body and a charismatic ease about him, while Jim had the bare beginnings of a beer belly but a certain suave air that made him irresistible. Jim had the confidence all men want but all too few actually possess.

Eventually of course a slow dance came on, and both men commandingly pulled us into them and danced with us with our bodies touching. I was nervous and looked at Susan but she had a dreamy look in her eyes and as I looked she placed her hands around Jim's neck, and his hands went right to her behind, holding it and squeezing it as they swayed to the music. Jim and Mary cut a gorgeous couple, I thought; too bad Mary, like me, is married!

I felt I could not possibly behave the way Mary was behaving. It was bad enough that my breasts were crushed up against Bob's chest. I didn't judge; Mary's behavior was just not for me. I remembered what Philip had done to me in that weak moment in my kitchen, and I continued to dance properly.

Bob nevertheless put his hands on my behind, pulling me against his cock, and I gently removed them. I did notice, however - it was hard not to - that his cock was hard. Was that due to little old me? I suppressed a giggle at the thought.

About a minute later Bob's hands returned to my behind; I once again removed them. The third time they landed on my behind, I simply gave up and let them stay. I have to admit, it felt nice, and certainly it felt sexy! Bob's hands on my ass, in the grand scheme of things, was no big deal, I reassured myself. Peace in the Middle East, now that's a big deal. A man's hands on my ass? Not so much.

"You have a wonderful ass, Melissa," Bob said.

I blushed, and not knowing what to say, I said, "Thank you. Yours is nice, too." I had noticed how his slacks hugged his ass, and I had found it to be quite sexy. I didn't mention of course how nice his hard cock felt rubbing up against my tummy. Nor did I place my own hands on his ass!

"May I kiss you?" Bob asked.

"Not now, Bob, and not here," I said. "I'd need a few more drinks, at the very least!" I continued, trying to make a joke out of it. I knew men don't like it when a girl says no outright; it's better just to postpone things until oblivion, so that they never happen. You don't seem to be rejecting the man that way.

A few minutes later I saw Jim kissing Susan, right in the middle of the dance floor. What was going on? Susan was my armor, and now she was caving? She was married, too! It's irrational, but I felt betrayed. How could Susan, my new friend, behave like that?!

Well, it's just a kiss, I rationalized. What harm is a little kiss among colleagues, after all? She'll never see Jim again, and her husband doesn't need to know she kissed a man. It's not as if it's a major infidelity or something.

Bob and I found an open table and it felt good to get off my feet as I sat. Jim and Susan joined us a few minutes later, and Jim walked Susan to our table with his arm around her waist. I announced a need to "powder my nose" and I implored with my eyes and a slight head tilt for Susan to join me, and of course she did.

In the ladies' room I quickly asked what was going on?

"What do you mean?" Susan asked.

"You and Jim kissed on the dance floor," I said.

Susan giggled. "That's my nature. I kiss all our male friends back home. It's harmless, I assure you. Hubby doesn't mind. He kisses their wives, as well. Kissing is just being friendly, Melissa."

I didn't say anything, but Jim and Susan's kiss was anything but innocent.

"Oh, okay. Bob wants to kiss me," I finally said.

"You turned him down?"

"Yes. For me, kissing is the beginning of sex," I said.

"Well, Melissa, quite frankly, that's just ridiculous. Maybe it's time to change your ways? Give the poor man a kiss, I say. Want me to kiss him for you?" Susan asked. "He's really cute."

"Well, I do kind of like him," I said.

"He's charming, and good looking, too. Where's the harm in a little kiss?" Susan asked.

We went back to rejoin the men. We talked, laughed, and drank some more. When it got late, the men gallantly offered to escort us back to the room.

"How nice!" Susan said. "I hear hotel hallways are dangerous and having a big strong man at my side will alleviate the fear," and we all laughed.

The men treated us to all of our drinks as they settled the tab, and I was charmed. I felt it was like a college date night. Jim went off with Susan, and Bob took my hand as we walked to the elevators, and then down the hall to my room on the twelfth floor. We ran into Susan and Jim on the twelfth floor; surprisingly Susan's room was only a few doors down from mine!

Bob and I stood drinking in each other's eyes, as Susan and Jim kissed goodnight, and then Susan opened her room door in mid kiss (their third goodnight kiss) and pulled Jim into her room, closing the door behind her. I was shocked.

Before my mind could even process what Susan was doing with Jim, Bob said, "You've had a few more drinks now, and it's more private here. May I kiss you goodnight?"

I smiled at him. "Please do," I said, remembering what Susan had said. It's only a kiss, I told myself. That, plus watching Susan disappear into the room with Jim in tow , was my undoing. Who knew Bob could kiss so well? It was the best, most erotic, sexiest kiss of my entire life to that point.

I should point out that while I married Gene young, I do have some experience kissing a variety of men. My summer before college I worked at a summer camp, and every single one of the boys who worked there kissed me at one time or another. I was a hopeless flirt back then.

A couple of those boys got away with a lot more than kissing. When I say they got away with a lot, I do in fact mean a lot! I was still a virgin when I entered college, but the fact that I had not let a boy deflower me at summer camp, even though several had tried, was due to a combination of luck and a general lack of privacy, and alas not due to my virtuous nature.

One time, for example, a boy got me naked and was about to enter me and take my virginity, and I was doing nothing to stop him, when another boy suddenly stumbled upon us. I screamed to the high heavens and immediately grabbed some clothes (that were scattered about) to cover myself up. As I screamed the two boys laughed, my potential lover cursing the guy who had surprised us while we were almost

in flagrante delicto.

Had the boy been a minute later, that boy would have laid me for sure.

Anyway, I think I know of what I speak when I say Bob kissed well. I was wet after the first kiss.

As Bob and I were kissing in the hotel corridor, at the door to my room, a group of men, that I recognize as also being from the conference, were drunkenly walking down the hall, so as Susan had done before me, I quickly opened my room door and pulled Bob inside.

"Now we can continue our kiss in private," I said, trying to explain my limited intentions when I pulled him into my hotel room which, of course, was suggestively dominated by a king size double bed.

Bob smiled and he took me in his arms in such a gentle and beautiful way that I melted as he kissed me. When we came up for air I went to the minibar and got a half bottle of white wine for me and a Scotch whisky for Bob. We went to the loveseat and sat down, drank our drinks, and talked.

We talked until almost 3AM. At the end, probably due to being rip roaring drunk, I was telling him the story of being trapped naked in the kitchen with Philip. Bob was enthralled with my story. He was especially alert when I said how close I had come to being unfaithful. I didn't bother to tell him about the neighbor Mike just a few days later.

"They went fishing at a Midwest lake in January?" Bob asked. "Ice fishing?"

"Not in Indiana. The ice is too thin," I said.

"It's too thin everywhere. This has been a warm winter. It's also too dangerous to use a boat, since there's floating ice. I'd guess it's damn uncomfortable, too," Bob said.

"Oh," I said. I began to wonder. Why would the two men leave their wives and go off for a weekend? The answer came to me. It's not rocket science, after all.

"I guess they were whoring," I mumbled. Gene has a weakness for that, and we had once had a big fight about it, and as a consequence he forswore whoring forevermore. I guess it was a time limited forevermore. I knew Philip had a mistress in Shelbyville. Maybe she arranged a friend for Gene?

"I'm sorry," Bob said.

"Thanks," I said. I was simultaneously near tears and very angry. "Can I ask you, Bob? Why would a man do that? I'm trying to get pregnant, and he's off whoring? Why?"

Bob did not answer. Instead he kissed me, once again giving me an amazing kiss. I melted. My hand drifted to his groin and through his pants I could tell he was hard. I quickly withdrew my hand with the same urgency as if I had touched a hot stove. He was hard just from kissing me. I did not have to suck him to get him hard, like I did with my husband Gene. I felt wanted, and desired. These were feelings I suddenly realized I had been missing.

Bob's hands began to caress my breasts. His hands were over my blouse and also my bra so it was not that intimate, and I felt that was okay. I let his hands do what they wanted to do. When he lifted my blouse over my head and off, I knew I was letting him go too far. Against my better judgment, I nevertheless let him do it. Bob was just too sexy, and I was too turned on. I was also proud of my body and did not mind Bob having a look. When he unhooked my bra, however, I put a stop to things.

I thought about pointing out that I was married, but he had seen my ring, and I had already told him about Gene 'going fishing,' so obviously he knew all that already. Instead I simply said, "It's getting late, Bob. I want to rise early tomorrow for the talks." This was bullshit of course, but Bob didn't know that.

"I understand," Bob said. "A woman as pretty as you are obviously needs her beauty sleep."

I walked Bob to the door of my room, and he asked for a kiss goodnight before he left my room.

"Just a little one, please," I said, as I bent my head in the universal 'please kiss me' gesture. "I really need to get to bed," I added, and then silently thought 'and finger myself to oblivion.'

Bob and I kissed. My blouse was still off and my bra was still unhooked, and soon my bra was on the floor as he fondled my breasts, paying special attention (of course) to my tender nipples. When he got my nipples hard and erect, he unzipped my skirt, still while kissing me. Soon my skirt was pooled at my ankles. Bob had me in my panties, and nothing else.

I'm a skinny girl, but I have big boobs, which makes we look not as skinny as I actually am. Reduced to panties, however, Bob knew exactly how skinny my body was. I found myself hoping he liked his women skinny. Some men do, you know? Others like women with a little more meat on their bones, as I've heard men say. I was nervous I was too skinny for Bob's taste.

I was naked save for my panties, and Bob's hands entered my panties to squeeze and fondle my behind. We had never stopped kissing. Next my panties were at my ankles and Bob was gently stroking my slit. I had an unguarded moment and actually moaned. Maybe it was a groan? Who knows? Who cares?

I tried to wriggle away, realizing this was going much too far, too fast. I should never have let myself get so drunk! My attempt to wriggle away was pathetic, and it didn't work. I began think about differential equations to kill the Eros of the situation, so that my effort to save my virtue could be stronger. When Bob slipped two fingers inside my slit, however, he learned how wet and welcoming I was down there, he began to pump his fingers inside me, still while kissing me. I was doomed.

This was a case of déjà vu all over again. Just as I had with Philip, I climaxed within minutes, and I sank to the floor, breaking our kissing. Bob was hyper busy and I suddenly realized his pants were off and his thing was out. Boy, did it look hard. Bob got on top of me, spread my legs which parted much too easily, and he was moving into position when there was a banging on my hotel room door.

I woke from my lust induced trance, and pushed Bob off me literally moments before I would have committed the first true infidelity of my marriage. The knocking continued, and I heard Susan's anxious voice on the other side of the door telling me to let her in right away!

Scared for Susan, and even though I was naked, I pushed Bob off of me and rose and opened the door. Susan ran into my room. She was close to hysterics. I got her a glass of water and talked softly and reassuringly to her. Once she had calmed down, she spoke coherently for the first time.

"Sorry for this at 3AM, Melissa," Susan said.

"It's almost 3:30 now. What's up?" I asked. I still didn't know why she was there.

"You sleep in the nude, do you?" Susan said, and suddenly she noticed Bob was there. He had dressed. Being in the STEM fields meant Susan could add two plus two, and she added, "Oh! I'm so sorry!"

I smiled weakly, and Bob said, "I really must be going now. Thank you, Melissa, for a lovely evening. I have my talk in the morning, and I need to sleep a bit."

I went over to him, saying, "Kiss goodnight?" I wanted to end on a positive note.

Bob kissed me as he ran his hands all over my still naked body, even though Susan was right there, staring at us. He then left and when the door closed I exhaled loudly and collapsed into a chair.

"Who goes first?" Susan asked.

"You saved me from my first marital infidelity, literally by seconds, Susan!" I said.

"I thought your first was with Philip?" Susan asked.

"Philip fingered me and drove me to a climax and was about to fuck me, but Gene called out and we stopped. So we didn't fuck, and therefore that doesn't count," I said.

"I think it counts, Melissa. You don't have to fuck to be unfaithful," she said.

"I disagree. Fucking is infidelity, and Gene unwittingly saved me from it with Philip, and now you just did with Bob. Thank you, by the way!" I said.

"Why are you dressed only in your robe, Susan? You look to be naked underneath it. Why are you here, in my room, at 3:30AM?" I asked.

Susan told me her story. She too had barely avoided being unfaithful to her husband. It was a sudden realization of the magnitude of her weakness that had rescued her at the last moment. Then she had kissed Jim goodnight in the hallway, dressed only in a robe and naked underneath it, and she had inadvertently locked herself out of her room.

"Can you lend me clothes? I need to get a new room key at the front desk," she said.

"You're taller than I am and our busts are quite different, but sure, I'll figure out something for you," I said. "Look, sleep here with me tonight, or what's left of tonight, and we can get you a key to your room in the morning. We can share my huge double bed."

We got very little sleep and barely made the cutoff for breakfast. Susan had a conference program and she was actually reading it. I just sipped coffee and thought dreamily about Bob.

"Is your new paramour Bob named Bob Stone, perchance?" Susan asked.