The Visit 96

WARNING: This instalment contains themes involving reluctance that borders on non-consent. Please do not read any further if this is something that you're not comfortable with.

Looking at some of the comments about the first three instalments, rest assured that I'm not proud of what happened. When you're in your twenties you think you're an adult, but you still have a lot to learn... I'm a different person now, and there isn't a day goes by that I don't regret my betrayal of the man I love. But... I would argue that no one deserves what happened to me in this instalment, no matter how they've behaved.

This is based on a true story. I only say 'based on' because everything that happened here took place more than fifteen years ago when I was in my mid-twenties (as are all of the other characters) and, to be honest, I simply can't remember every detail, so I've used some artistic license to fill in the gaps wherever necessary. But the events, the emotions, the people and the places are true, reconstructed where necessary from my diary at the time, my messages, my emails and my photos, and have stuck with me like it was yesterday. My then boyfriend, now husband, doesn't know about most of this, so here's hoping he's not a reader...

I fumbled for my keys as he held me from behind, both his hands stroking down over my hips and ass while he kissed along my neck and jaw. As his hands hit a particularly sensitive spot a wave of arousal surged through me, and I spun around, pulling him into me as I backed through the now open front door, kissing him hungrily on the lips, our tongues searching each other out as we moved.

We moved in our embrace along the hallway of the flat until we reached a wall. "Is your flatmate home?" he asked.

I paused and listened. "No, I don't think so. Let me check." I quickly took a look down the corridor, my high heels clicking along the tiled floor, and there was no sign. "We're good."

"Good... now come here," he replied.

I gave him my sexiest look and walked slowly over to him, reaching my hands to his chest as I did so, slipping my fingers between the buttons of his shirt to play with his chest hair. Our lips met again and we kissed passionately, desperate for each other.

"My bedroom?" I asked.

"No, that's too far," he smiled. "All the way over there." The door was less than two metres away. "I need you here."

And with that he pushed me back against the wall, dropped to his knees, and reached under my short skirt to pull my underwear down. When it fell to my ankles, I quickly stepped out of it.

"I've been looking forward to this," he whispered. He lifted one of my legs over his shoulder and, buried his tongue in my pussy. Little electric jolts flew threw me as he started to build a good rhythm, and as he heard me start to gasp, he slid two fingers in to me. I could feel my orgasm building but needed more than just his fingers in me. I needed him in me.

"Come back up here," I moaned. "I want you in me."

He moved back up and I quickly, expertly undid his belt and trousers, letting them fall while I hurriedly freed his hard cock from his boxer shorts. That cock that felt so familiar in my hands.

"In me now," I panted. "Now".

He didn't need a second invitation. He positioned his cock at my entrance and rapidly slid inside me, making me gasp with the sensation. I wrapped my leg around him, then he lifted me up so that my other leg could also wrap around. He kissed me furiously on the mouth, all lips and tongues, as he built up a fierce pace, both of us frantic.

Soon my moans and his intermingled and we both came hard, me starting sooner but lasting longer, so that after he'd cum in me he continued to thrust while waves of pleasure coursed through me.

After a few moments he let me put my legs down, and we stood there messily kissing each other.

I broke away while he continued to kiss my neck, whispering into his ear, "I love you so much."

"I love you too," came the reply as he slowly, gently continued his kissing.

Yeah. This is what I'd been missing. My boyfriend had arrived.

As we lay in bed a few sweaty, life affirming, frantic hours later I listened to the noises of the city coming through the open window. My boyfriend, who'd arrived only that morning for a two week visit, was fast asleep, the combination of our joyous reunion and jetlag knocking him out cold.

I knew that sleep would be a while coming for me, but unusually I didn't mind. I was content to lie and think, comforted by his presence next to me. It really felt good to have him there, like a grounding in reality after a surreal, mad few months since I moved there.

It had been a month since I'd had dinner with my Partner in Crime, triggering a rollercoaster week and a bit where I'd managed to fall into bed with him three times in a week, all completely unintended and unexpected. And then, following that, had been the descent into a full blown affair, running around with him in secret, sleeping with him as often as possible wherever we could.

My mind drifted back to my last conversation with my Partner in Crime just four days before after we'd been for 'lunch' that had certainly involved eating but not much food...

...as we lay there recovering, our sweaty limbs still entangled, him and me laying side by side, kissing and stroking each other, he looked into my eyes and asked the question I'd been dreading. "What's going on with us?"

I took a deep breath and, looking at him teasingly, said, "Well... I think we just had sex?"

He smiled. "You know that's not what I meant..."

"I know..."

"So... what's going on?"

I knew that he was really asking what was happening with my boyfriend arriving in a few days. This was a topic that I'd been putting off thinking about, but I guessed needed to be discussed.

"You mean... with us for the next few weeks?"

"Yeah, well no, the next few weeks, the next few months, the next who knows how long?"

"I... its..." I took a deep breath then started again. "I don't know. What are you really asking?"

He paused and stroked my hair. "I guess, this. I know we agreed to keep this all secret, and I know that that's what I signed up for, but this feels like more."

"More?"

"Yes, more." He looked into my eyes. "This feels like a relationship, not just two friends sleeping together."

This was going to be hard. I liked him, I liked him a lot. But was I falling in love with him? No. I wasn't. We were certainly compatible both physically and emotionally, but deep inside I wasn't feeling the spark that I'd felt only a couple of times in my life, that spark that told you this was the one.

At the same time though I didn't want what we had to end. The sex was great. But only great, really, because we weren't in a relationship so were free to explore and experiment without the emotional baggage. For example, I'd happily explored my submissive side with him and that was something I'd never been able to do before and could never do in a relationship because I absolutely didn't want the power dynamics to creep in outside of the bedroom.

"Look, this is what it has always been," I replied. "We're not in a relationship. We are just two friends sleeping together. But that is special in itself, this is fantastic. Let's not spoil it by trying to make it something more."

"But... I want it to be more. I don't want to be your sex toy that you wheel out when you want looking after. I want you and I to be a couple."

"That can't work... I have a boyfriend."

"The answer is obvious then? Finish with him and start dating me."

I paused to think how best to phrase my reply. "Can you wait?"

"Wait? How?"

"I need to see how his visit goes, I can't just finish with him. Can you wait for me until he goes home again? Then we can talk properly about you and me."

He sat up, and a little irately replied, "Seriously?" He moved to the edge of the bed, his feet resting on the floor.

"Yes, seriously. This is really hard for me, please give me some time."

"You want me to wait, while you spend the next two weeks sleeping with him and I go through the hell of knowing you're doing that, and then you'll decide whether actually you prefer me after all?"

"That's not how I'd put it, no... but, yes, I guess. Can you wait?"

"So, it's a competition? You're comparing between us and one of us gets lucky and one doesn't? And you want me to just step aside for the next few weeks and do nothing, say nothing?"

I didn't reply, but sat up myself, and moved over to kneel behind him, my legs either side of his, my chest pressed up against his back. I kissed his neck and ear softly, reached one hand to play lightly with his chest hair while my other reached for his flaccid cock and started to stroke it.

Quickly I felt him harden, and he relaxed back into me, reaching his hands back to stroke my legs. I could tell he was enjoying, so I whispered in his ear, "Do you like this?" I gave his ear a little bite and he nodded. "Do you want more of this?" Another little bite and another nod, accompanied by a soft moan. "So, if we take a break for a few weeks now will you wait for me?"

"Yes," he breathed out. "But please don't stop..." And of course I didn't stop, but I slowed right down, wanting to give him something spectacular to hang on to over the next few weeks.

After maybe ten minutes of me torturing him like that, I finally asked, "Do you want to cum?"

"Yes," he moaned. "I really do."

"You'll need to beg..."

"Really?" he moaned.

"Yes."

Another moan, then, "Please, please, please let me cum. I beg you."

"Good boy," and I sped up, until I felt his orgasm rock through him, leaving him shaken and spent.

A few minutes later we'd both got dressed back into our work clothes, I'd brushed my hair and tidied myself up, and we got ready to leave.

"So... this is it for a few weeks? No contact at all?" he asked as we stood by the front door.

"Yes, I guess so." I leaned over to kiss him. "Thank you."

"Except for my birthday dinner next week though? You're still coming to that?"

I smiled. "Good point, you said there are quite a few of us invited?"

"Yeah, eight of us I think."

"Then yes, but we're only doing that as friends. Nothing more. My boyfriend is meeting up with one of his university friends who lives locally that night so we're all good, but I mean it - purely as friends. Nothing else."

He nodded his understanding. "Yes, no problem. I'll see you then." And with a final kiss goodbye we headed back to work.

...which took me back to my bedroom four days later, lying there awake next to my newly arrived boyfriend.

I felt guilty, of course, thinking about what I'd been doing behind his back. I'd used the intervening four days to think a lot, and it was the hardest decision to make of my life. I had two men who were both kind, caring, interesting, great in bed, good looking, all the good things. One I'd already built a life with, had a mortgage with, had shared friends and knew each other's families, the other was newer, fresher, less baggage.

My boyfriend didn't know that the next fortnight was a test, one that he didn't have a clue that he was taking. My feelings for my Partner in Crime were strong enough that if the next fortnight didn't banish them then I'd started to prepare in my head to, if not split with my boyfriend, then maybe suggest a break until I moved back home. Although in reality, looking back across twenty years of hindsight, I'd have probably ended up keeping up the pretence while starting a relationship behind his back, kicking the can down the road until it was time for me to move home. But I would have vigorously denied that back then. Just as if challenged I'd have claimed I was still 100% faithful to my boyfriend, the web of lies that I'd constructed to myself justifying what I'd been doing behind his back as me working to strengthen my relationship with him in the long term.

And as I lay there that first night of my boyfriend's visit the test couldn't have got off to a better start. He'd arrived that afternoon, and after a chance to freshen up in the shower (with a little assistance from me...) we'd gone out for a nice dinner at a nearby restaurant, the sort of place that was relatively casual but still upmarket. Then we'd headed back and really got reacquainted. And he'd reminded me exactly what he was good at when it came to that.

Eventually drifting off to sleep I was happy. My boyfriend was here, all was well with the world, and I was confident that I had options if for some reason the next two weeks didn't go as well as hoped.

The next few days put an entirely different complexion on things. Being physically there with my boyfriend, spending time together, doing everything that we did as a couple, it all felt so right that it was really coming back to me why I loved him so much and why we had been together for so long.

We had long lie ins on both weekend days (though not sleeping...), went to the beach, went out to some nice restaurants and bars, enjoyed a mini-vacation weekend almost. It was great.

I ended up taking the Monday as holiday to extend it, and by the end of that Monday I was completely, 100% head over heels back in love with my boyfriend. The test wasn't even a test in the end, I knew after just those first few days that I needed to call it all off with my Partner in Crime and commit fully to my boyfriend. I knew, even then, that this was the man that I'd end up marrying and living with until we got old.

It is amazing quite what distance can do to your idea of someone. This might sound shallow, but I realised that I needed physical closeness to my boyfriend to fully appreciate him, but also at the same time getting some distance from my Partner in Crime pushed him firmly back into the background.

I also began to feel guilt, very considerable guilt. What had I been playing at for the last few weeks? I felt guilt, obviously, for what I'd done to my boyfriend, but I've often read that the most selfish thing someone who has cheated can do is to tell their partner as it is only about them unburdening themselves, not about helping their partner. So I resolved, absolutely, to never, ever tell him what had happened. And to do everything in my power to ensure that he could never find out. I'd have to live with that burden of guilt for the rest of my life, but it would be mine and mine alone.

There was also though guilt towards my Partner in Crime, for having allowed it to get out of hand in the way that it had. If we'd stopped after that first one night stand that would have been one thing. Even after the second night and us hooking up at the party would have been ok. But I'd led him on, even though we'd agreed to keep it secret. What had I thought would happen if I slept with him repeatedly? Of course, feelings were going to get in the way, particularly as I was only the second person he'd ever slept with.

My Partner in Crime I could apologise to. And I would. I owed it to him to give him closure as soon as possible, to end this at the first opportunity. What I didn't want to do though was end it on or just before his birthday. That would, again, have been selfish. I remembered a friend of mine who did exactly that with a boyfriend at university and I think it ruined his birthdays for years to come, always remembering that that day was tainted by the end of a relationship.

So, I resolved that, the day after his birthday, I would meet my Partner in Crime and give him the bad news.

Wednesday arrived, and with it my Partner in Crime's birthday dinner. My flatmate couldn't come as she'd been called away last minute to go on a business trip, while my boyfriend was (thankfully) meeting his friend for what he claimed was a quiet drink. I knew the two of them though and the chances of him actually making it home much before 3am, especially when he didn't have work the next day, were so tiny as to be non-existent.

We were going to a Thai restaurant that was in a complex with a few decent bars as well, so we all met up around 7pm for a drink or two before dinner. It was a fairly classy sort of place, so I'd opted to wear a green dress that I'd recently bought matched with my knee length brown leather boots. I had my hair tied back and had gone for light make up, nothing too obvious.

My boyfriend certainly appreciated it when he saw what I was wearing. 'Office worker hot' is how he described it which I guess met with his approval. I'd deliberately chosen it so that, even if he knew I was meeting with my Partner in Crime along with friends (we'd skirted around the topic of who was going to be there as we both didn't want to revisit the arguments and jealousy from a month before), I'd look good but not like I was trying to get laid. No point in creating disharmony.

When I got to the bar the others were all there, and I joined them in drinking a cocktail. Dinner was really good, I was sat with a couple of friends that I'd not seen much in recent weeks so we had a great time catching up. It turned out that one of them had spent a year of university in my home town so we had a lot to chat about - we even worked out that a couple of times I'd been out with friends in the holidays in various nightclubs they'd also been there. I've still got a few photos to this day that I took on my digital camera over dinner and they show a happy group of people having fun.

We had a few more drinks with dinner, and then afterwards retreated to another bar for a few more. Everybody was pretty merry but the evening was going well, it was maybe 10pm by then and, while we could all handle a hangover at work, a few people started to make their excuses.

Soon there were four of us left: me, my Partner in Crime, and a couple of other friends who were in deep conversation and looked very much like they were going to end up going home together a little later.

My Partner in Crime came to sit next to me, and I asked, "Good birthday?"

"Yes, thanks. Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it after all of... everything... you know?" I wouldn't say he was completely drunk, but he was close, so he was a bit more verbose than usual.

"Oh, no problem. Great to see you. How have you been the last week?"

That was not the question to ask. I realised it at once, but it was too late to take it back. I really did not want to open Pandora's Box.

He paused, and I could see his inebriated mind working through it (although I was far from sober by now as well). "Ok, I guess... I've missed you."

I just smiled sympathetically back.

"But I'm really glad you're here. I haven't forgotten what you told me about my birthday treat."

This confused me. I didn't remember saying anything about a birthday treat, and so I replied, "Errr... I'm not sure what you mean?"

He looked at me with a knowing smile. "Yes, you do. Don't play dumb..."

"I really don't. Tell me?"

He leaned in to whisper in my ear. "Do you remember our second night together? When we tried some things? You told me that that thing I wanted to try was for special occasions, birthdays and so on?" He laughed. "And of course late night meeting room tables..."

I froze and could feel myself rapidly sobering up. He had an expectation that tonight was going to end with me and him having anal sex as a birthday present? Really? I'd not said anything to him about that, and we'd been clear that I was only coming tonight as a friend.

"Look... I appreciate that it's your birthday, but we're not doing that. Remember, we agreed I was coming only as a friend. Not as something more. We're not sleeping together tonight."

"We agreed tonight was as friends, and that's what we've been for the last month. Friends. Friends who sleep together. I've booked a hotel room for us nearby."