I have a confession to make. About twenty years ago I had an affair with a married woman. It was an affair filled with lies and manipulation and one I wish I never had. One until I had written this article, I hadn’t realised quite how bad it was.
At the time I was single. Not very experienced sexually. I was emotionally immature and low on self-confidence. Easy prey for this extremely narcissistic woman.
The story began when I was working for a company in London at the beginning of the century about the time when the tech bubble burst. I was working in a small IT department and was very unhappy in my job. My career was going nowhere and job opportunities were few and far between as companies tightened their belts for the expected recession that never arrived.
I had been flirting a lot with several of the young women in the office yet, I did not have the confidence to ask any of them out. All this flirting though made it clear that I was very available.
Out of the blue, I received an email from the Brazilian lady in the Marketing department. She was exotic and six years older than me. In her email, she confessed that she had feelings for me.
There is something about Latin women which I love. I previously had a fling with an Italian lesbian who had just come out of a bad break-up with a woman so she wanted to give men a try. It was never going to work but she was a lovely woman. She broke up with me in the nicest way. When we were at the same party, she told me that she was now dating a woman and kindly asked me if I was okay. I was and I have no regrets.
Returning to this married Brazilian woman. She told me that she was separated from her husband. This was true. She was living in a bedsit at the time.
We ended up going on a date. Our date was incredible. We went into Central London and had dinner at an Italian restaurant. She told me of a Brazilian nightclub she knew of and I suggested we go there. We danced and we kissed. She kissed me with a passion I had never experienced before. She had me hooked and I was too inexperienced to escape. Finding out that I had missed our train home we booked a hotel for the night and had sex.
At the beginning of the century, the internet was in its infancy, so I was unaware of terms that are commonplace in dating today. One that would have been appropriate, even on our first date, is red flag.
I think that a Marxist parade walked through that nightclub that night and I inexplicably missed it. She was strangely jittery and she was worried that she was going to be spotted out with me. She was separated from her husband. They were going to get divorced. Her husband was a bad guy. He never made her happy. Why did it matter if we were seen together? All lies.
Red flag number one.
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I was too infatuated with her to notice, though. I was into her and she was into me, at least I thought she was.
Red flag number two was she never called me her boyfriend.
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Over the next two months, we spent a lot of time together. The sex was incredible and we had sex a lot. I would go to her place, she would go to mine. I introduced her to my friends. Nothing could go wrong. But there was a problem. Her husband.
She would switch her phone off at night and wake up to a huge number of text messages and voicemails from her husband pleading with her to come home. We would be driving somewhere and she would get a desperate call from him.
Red flag number three and the biggest of them all.
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By this time I should have smelt a rat. But I didn’t. I felt sorry for the guy. His wife had moved on with me and he needed to let go. I was secure in our relationship.
Infatuation is a powerful drug and one that is hard to kick. Add that to the fact that she hadn’t finished with me, I was never going to escape from her clutches.
I am sure he knew she was being unfaithful. At least I was sure he suspected. What he certainly doing was what I now know is called the pick me dance. His self-respect was close to non-existent.
This heady and exciting affair wouldn’t go on forever like I thought. We were having sex one night and in the middle, she stopped and told me that she couldn’t feel anything, I was smaller than her husband and she needed to imagine that she was with her husband to have an orgasm.
I was crushed, humiliated and emasculated. I had no idea why she would do that.
The reason soon became apparent. She called me one evening to tell me she had returned to her husband. I could hear him in the background joking with her.
“You used me,” I tearfully accused her.
“Yes, I did,” she unashamedly laughed.
It was my turn to play the pick-me dance. It was my turn to lose all my self-respect. How bad did it get? She asked me to help her move back to her husband. I stupidly agreed.
How badly did she manipulate me? If getting me to move her back with her husband wasn’t bad enough, when I was helping her we would kiss back at the bedsit she was moving out of. Once she was back and settled with her husband, she told me to stay away from her and promptly ghosted me.
And that was the end of my dalliance with a married woman. It turned out I wasn’t the first person she cheated on her husband with. I had got myself involved with a serial cheater.
A harsh lesson learnt.
She did later call me a few months later. I don’t know why. Maybe guilt drove her to call me. She admitted that what she did was wrong and I hadn’t deserved it without apologising. Maybe she was unhappy with her husband again and was seeing if I was available. I wasn’t and especially not to her. I had gone from being besotted with her to finding her ugly.
About a year later she tried to friend me on Facebook. She also sent me a cryptic text message saying she didn’t expect it to be well received. It wasn’t. I just told her that she had sent it to the wrong number. Maybe she did feel guilty after all.
As far as I know, she is still married to her husband. I know they never had children which is a blessing, I suppose. It would have made for one dysfunctional family.
Why did I decide to tell my story? One is probably because, with all the stories I write about infidelity, I get recommended stories by people who are having an affair or had an affair with a married person, and I am sick of their self-pity and their poor me justification, and I want to comment on their stories from a position of authority. Maybe, it was these stories that prompted me to tell my story, instead. Who knows?
Maybe it was this affair that subconsciously got me to start to write stories about unfaithful women.
Do I want sympathy?
No, absolutely not!
I don’t deserve any. Add this to a few years prior when we met, my dad had an affair with a divorcee and left my mum for her. My paternal grandfather had an affair too. Yeah, the hypocrisy is not lost on me.
My experience and the history of it in my family has given me a zero tolerance to infidelity.
There was a happy ending for me though. A few months after my affair, my roommate’s girlfriend asked me what I thought of their Spanish friend. I talked to and kissed that Spanish friend at a Halloween party. I asked her out, we moved in together. A few years later we were married and we are still together with two kids. Twenty years committed to the same woman. Wow!
“Will you be a good husband and help me be a good friend?” former kickboxer Jack’s wife, Abbie, pleads as she asks him to spend a night of passionate intimacy with her recently divorced friend, the captivating Charly. Jack reluctantly agrees, reassured by Abbie that it isn’t infidelity because she is the one asking.
As the night unfolds in a whirlwind of desire, Abbie requests Jack to spend the weekend with another friend, the enchanting but lonely housewife, Gwen. When he refuses to become involved with another woman, Abbie threatens to end their marriage. With daunting college debts and medical expenses from a kickboxing injury, Jack feels compelled to comply, realizing that his efforts to please his wife have led him into a snare.
Soon, Jack finds himself under Abbie’s sway, and his marriage begins to crumble. At his lowest point, Gwen comes to his rescue just in time, revealing the positive impact he has had on the lives of the women he has connected with.
But why is Abbie resorting to blackmail? Why are people starting to recognise him on the streets? And who is this “Jigalo” that is the subject of public interest in the city?
“Of course, he can. You can do whatever you like with him,” I heard my wife, of five years, Abbie, say on the phone in the other room. “Let me check the diary. Hmm, two weeks on Saturday, does that work for you? I know, how you feel,” and she gave a small laugh. “Trust me he will be well worth the wait, and you won’t be disappointed. Promise me you will let me know how he does. Don’t worry, nobody will ever know.”
Her conversation got me worried. I assumed “him” was me and my wife had signed me up for something. The “what” was what had me worried.
“Jack,” Abbie said as she joined me in the room and sat down next to me on the sofa, where I pretended to be absorbed in the fight on the TV. “Can you switch off the TV for a minute? There is something I need to talk to you about.”
“Huh?” I replied, reaching for the remote control but feeling my blood go cold. What am I going to have to do? Ladies do not assume that if a man is watching something on TV, he doesn’t know what is going on around him.
“Remember my friend, Charly?” she asked.
“Yeah, the one going through a divorce. Her ex ran off with an eighteen-year-old or something.”
“Nineteen,” she corrected me, happily splitting hairs. “Anyway, you are right, and her divorce has finally gone through, so she is now free to sleep with anyone she wants without worrying about the consequences.”
“Ok,” I said slowly, not seeing what this had to do with me.
“Well, she told me that she hasn’t had sex for over a year, can you believe that?” I squirmed in my seat. This was too much information, “and her toys just aren’t doing it for her anymore.” This was way too much information.
“Right,” I said trying not to sound grossed out.
“This where you come in.”
“What?” I nearly jumped out of my seat. “What has Abbie signed me up for?” I thought.
“I agreed to let her have sex with you as much as you both can for one night.”
It took me a few moments to properly comprehend what she had just said, “Er, what!?”
“I’ve given her permission to have sex with you to ease her frustration.”
“Why me? Can’t she go on those Facebook for sex sites or try and pick someone up in a bar or something?”
“She is a little shy and embarrassed and she doesn’t want to have sex with a stranger. Also, she admitted that she has always had a bit of a thing for you, and I’ve told her all about that python in your trousers,” she told me while putting her hand between my legs and slowly stroking me which made me hard straight away. If there was one thing about myself that I was proud of and that was my cock. It was big, eight inches long, and thick.
“But,” I objected desperately, “I don’t want to be-“
“Unfaithful?” Abbie interrupted. “Don’t worry, because I’m asking you to do it to help a friend, it isn’t being unfaithful. Will you be a good husband and help me be a good friend?” she asked sexily as she rubbed my now trapped and very stiff cock that was imprisoned in my trousers.
“Okay,” was all I could say, my mind was too focused on what Abbie was doing with her hand. The truth was if my wife was going to force me to have sex with one of her friends then Charly would have been at the top of my list or at least close to it. She was about my age, good-looking, had large breasts, and a curvaceous body. Sexy as hell.
“Aww, thank you you’re the best!” Abbie said excitedly. “Now, I think you deserve a reward,” she pushed me back onto the sofa and slid to the floor between my legs. She swiftly undid my trousers and pulled out my stiff cock. Keeping eye contact she gave the whole length a long and slow lick with the tip of her tongue, making me gasp pleasure and my cock twitch before she put the whole head into her mouth. I gave a loud moan as I felt her warm, wet mouth envelop my dick. If there was one thing Abbie excelled at and that was blow jobs and she knew what it did for me.
She licked and sucked, and I was in bliss. I watched her head bob up and down on it until she stopped to remove her jeans and panties.
“I wasn’t planning to do this but I’m now too horny,” she said breathlessly before mounting me. She guided my cock to the entrance of her pussy and lowered herself down my shaft. She gave a loud moan as she bottomed out. She was not wrong. Her pussy was sopping wet and felt hot. Once she had me inside her she began bouncing up and down, moaning loudly. I then took control. I grabbed her ass and lifted her before driving her back down. She gave a gargled moan and collapsed into me, burying her face into my neck.
I lifted her and impaled her on my cock over and over again. Her muffled moans became louder and louder until she kissed me hard and her body shook with an orgasm. That didn’t stop me, in fact, it drove me on, and I began to drive my hips up, so she met it as I drove her down with a lewd slap. Her body shook with orgasm after orgasm until I could feel my own orgasm build and I roared as I exploded hot cum into her. “Damn you Jack!” Abbie said irritably as we both tried to catch our breath. “Why do you have to be so good?”
Jack and Gwen
When I got in the car, Abbie threw her phone at me to show me a message from Charly. It said simply, “Jack is an unbelievable fuck! Thank you so much for sharing him with me! Send him my love.”
“Good job, Jack,” Abbie said, praising me. “Charly is a very happy woman. I’ll give her a call when we get home to get all the details.”
Abbie looked happy and relaxed. I felt miserable and guilty. I got far too into it and did things to Charly that I had never done to Abbie.
“How was your night?” I asked not being able to look her in the eye.
“It was lovely. I met up with an old friend for a chat.” Abbie took a hand away from the steering wheel and squeezed my knee, “Relax! I told you yesterday, it isn’t cheating because I asked you to do it.”
Her reassurance didn’t make me feel any better. When we arrived home, Abbie got straight on the phone to Charly. I went to the kitchen to get some food and a drink. All the sex with Charly made me famished and I hadn’t eaten breakfast. I could hear Abbie chatting with Charly and they were going into a lot of detail.
When she finished, she came to find me, “You dirty boy, you licked her ass?” she laughed. I just squirmed in my seat. Seeing how uncomfortable I looked, she kissed me on the cheek and said encouragingly, “I told you, don’t worry! I asked you to have sex with Charly. So, you shouldn’t feel guilty.”
A week later, Abbie sat down with me,
“Jack, you know how I asked you to have sex with Charly?” she asked. “I was wondering if you could do the same with another friend of mine?”
“What?” I said in disbelief. “Abbie, I can’t. I still feel guilty about having sex with Charly.”
“I told you it isn’t a problem for me, so it shouldn’t be for you either. How many wives ask their husbands to sleep with other beautiful women?”
“Even so, it isn’t normal. We’re married. We promised to be faithful to each other. Why are you asking me to have sex with another woman again?”
“Well, apparently, word got out about what you did for Charly and my other friends want similar treatment.”
“I didn’t tell anyone!” I protested.
“I know you didn’t, but I did and now I have another friend who wants to have sex with you.”
“I can’t, Abbie! Not again!”
“Well, you’re going to have to!” I was taken aback by the hard edge that suddenly came into her voice. “I have already said you would, and you will do it. She doesn’t want the same treatment as Charly. Just a cold hard fuck. All you need to do is give her the orgasm her husband won’t.”
“She’s married! Abbie, no!” I was horrified.
“C’mon Jack, what are you a Mormon!? Just give her a fuck for the night while her husband is away on business. It’s no big deal.”
“It is for me! Fine, just this once! But it is the last time,” I said firmly.
“Thanks, Jack, and we’ll see,” Abbie smiled happily.
“Who is she?” I asked unhappily, totally missing Abbie’s last comment.
“Her name is Gwen, and she says that her husband doesn’t touch her anymore or at least not how she wants.”
“When am I supposed to do the deed?”
“Next Friday. Her husband is away on business so you will do it at her house and spend the night.”
“Why doesn’t this feel like a good idea,” I grumbled.
Friday came around. This time Abbie got me dressed up in a suit. She undid the top button and pulled the tie down slightly giving me an end-of-the-day businessman look.
“That is the idea,” she told me.
As we drove to Gwen’s house for 6 pm again, Abbie went through the scenario,
“There is a key to Gwen’s front door in the inside pocket of your jacket. When you arrive, you are to let yourself in and call for Gwen. She will welcome you home like she is your wife. You will tell her that she took long enough and demand your dinner. You are then going to hit her hard on the ass. She wants you to demean her and spank her.”
“What!”
“What can I say? She wants it rough, and you are going to give it to her however she wants. It’s not going to be a problem, is it?” Abbie sounded slightly menacing.
“I’ve never hit a woman before, I’m not sure I can,” I protested.
“You’re not hitting her, you’re spanking her,” Abbie reassured me. “If it makes you feel better, check out some spanking porn on my phone. It’s a bit kinky, but people do it all the time.”
I didn’t check the porn, instead I just sullenly looked out of the window.
“You’ll be fine, Jack,” Abbie said brightly.
“I feel like a prostitute,” I told her.
We pulled up outside an attractive suburban home with a well-manicured front garden.
“We’re here,” Abbie told me. “You’re not a prostitute because you’re not getting paid. Now go and rock Gwen’s world, just like you did with Charly,” she said giving me the briefcase that was on the back seat.
“What’s in the briefcase?” I asked curiously through my sullenness.
“Nothing, it is just a prop to make you look more authentic.”
I took the briefcase, walked to the front door and took the key out of my pocket. Abbie had sped off before I even reached the door. I took a deep breath and opened the front door and walked inside.
“GWEN!” I roared as I carefully closed the front door behind me.
“Jack!” Gwen exclaimed as she came tottering down the hall. Her heels made a tapping noise on the wooden floor. I was confronted by a slim, attractive, neat older woman in an apron who looked in her late forties. There were the tale-tell signs of wrinkles around her eyes which the tasteful make-up failed to hide. Grey streaks lined her light brown hair which was done up in a long ponytail which seemed at odds with her look. She looked like a typical suburban housewife whose kids had flown the nest. ‘What is Abbie getting me to do?’ I thought. I was going to have rough sex with a woman about twenty years older than me.
“It took you long enough!” I told her, harshly, “Where were you?”
“I’m sorry, Jack. I was cooking dinner,” she replied biting her bottom lip worriedly. “I’ve laid out a change of clothes for you on the bed. Why don’t you shower and change while I finish dinner.”
“Make sure it is ready and it’s better than last night’s dinner,” I told her angrily.
When she turned around, I hit her hard on her ass making her stumble slightly. She put a hand on the wall to support herself. I started to panic, thinking I hit her too hard. I then noticed she was pressing her thighs together and she seemed to shake momentarily, a quiet moan left her lips. Did she just orgasm from me hitting her ass?
Gwen straightened herself up and said in a lusty and quivering voice, “Yes dear.”
I went upstairs and found a towel and a change of clothes with a familiar-looking washbag. Abbie had, clearly, visited earlier. I sat on the bed and thought “What am I doing?” I was way out of my comfort zone.
I showered and dressed and headed back downstairs.
“Gwen?” I called.
“I’m in here, Jack,” she replied from the dining room.
When I entered, my mouth nearly dropped open at the dinner on the table. Gwen had made a big effort with dinner. It looked amazing, but I could not compliment her like I wanted to, or it would have ruined the whole role-play.
“Adequate,” I said dismissively as I sat down.
We ate in silence. I could feel a sexual anticipation emanating from Gwen. The food was delicious, but I tried to pretend it was average. When we had eaten, Gwen cleared the dishes away, then she poured me a glass of whiskey. When she gave it to me, she went onto her knees and crawled under the table. I never liked whiskey. However, for the sake of our role-play, I pretended to enjoy it. I felt her undo my trousers and pull my cock out. I bit my lip to stop myself from moaning. Abbie was good, Charly was fantastic, but Gwen’s blow job was mind-blowing. She had this trick of swallowing my cock quickly before slowly rising, dragging her tongue up the shaft, and giving the head a quick sharp lick. She would vary the depth and use her hands to caress my balls or make a cork-screw motion on my cock. She tried to take all of me into her mouth, but I was too big for her, and she gagged before getting three-quarters down. I was in too much of a daze to care. After what felt like half an hour of incredible licking and sucking, Gwen asked demurely,
“Will you cum in my mouth?” I nearly shot my load there and then and it took a lot of willpower not to.
“No, that is a reward, and I am not happy with you,” I stood up and put my dick away and did up my trousers. A look of disappointment swept over Gwen’s face. “Come to the lounge, I am going to have to spank you.”
Gwen tried to give a worried look but the speed she crawled out from under the table and headed to the lounge showed how excited she was. “This woman is seriously kinky,” I thought.
I purposely walked to the lounge and sat down on the sofa.
“Hitch up your dress and lie across my lap,” I told her firmly.
Gwen was breathing heavily with excitement as she obeyed. My eyes almost bulged out of my head when I saw the almost scandalous, straight-out-of-porn black and gold thong she was wearing. I positioned her across my lap, so her ass was pushing upwards, and I gave it a stroke. It felt soft yet firm. Gwen liked to work out. I then pulled my hand back and then spanked it. Gwen gave a high-pitched gasp before making a muffled appreciative noise. I stroked her ass again before I spanked it once more and she once again Gwen gave a high pitch gasp before making another muffled appreciative noise. I then sped up my stroking and spanking. Her gasps started to turn into sexy moans, which made me hard. I spanked her once more and she moaned loudly, and her body shook with an orgasm. I spanked a few more times and her orgasms became louder. I then realized that my spanking was making her pussy push into my erection, and she was having an orgasm just from the hard contact with her pussy.
Her ass was getting a little too red, so I stroked it gently to calm it down. Her ass felt so good to touch and I realized that I was getting a little too into it again, but it was now far too late to back off.
“Were you enjoying that, you dirty woman?” I asked as angrily as I could. Gwen just mewed into the sofa “You are supposed to be being punished. There is no helping it then,” I said with exasperation, and I pulled her thong to the side and pushed a finger into her very wet and, the way it gripped my finger, needy pussy.
Gwen began to moan loudly. Her ass began to move up and down in time with my finger thrusts. I had to use my other hand to stop her from falling on the floor because she was bucking so much. I could see her gripping onto the sofa for dear life. Her eyes were wide open, but she wasn’t seeing anything. Every so often she would have an orgasm.
“Do you want my finger in your ass?”
“Yes dear,” she replied in a ragged voice. I spread her cheeks and inserted my finger which was well lubricated with her cum into her ass. She mewed as I inserted it, but she was so tight I could only get it up to the first knuckle. I could see it wasn’t working and it was having no effect on her, so I pulled it out and said,
“I think we should get into the hot tub. I want you to wear your skimpiest bikini,” I told her trying to sound as domineering as possible but not sure I was succeeding. I had seen the hot tub through the lounge window when I came down for dinner and I thought it would be a good way to calm things down before we properly had sex.
“But Jack dear, what if people see me?” she protested, her body quivering with excitement. “You, obviously, want people to see you.”
On a hunch, I looked into my overnight bag Abbie had taken over. Sure enough, there was a swimsuit in there. Abbie probably had the same idea, but I went red when I saw that they were a tiny pair of speedos. Gwen stepped out of the bathroom, and she took my breath away. She was wearing a tiny thong bikini, but it was what was inside it that impressed me. She had the body someone half her age would have been proud of. Where Charly was curvaceous, Gwen had a firm and trim body. Her breasts were slightly large for her figure, probably due to age and childbirth, and her hips were a good width, but her well-rounded ass was phenomenal. The bikini thong showed it off beautifully. I now saw how much of a beautiful and sexy woman she was, and I was sure she had no idea. My cock stuffed into my speedos quivered, desperate to become hard but the restrictive space prevented it.
Gwen bit her bottom lip as she lustily admired my own body. Perhaps tonight won’t be so bad.
“Ladies first,” I said flatly, and I gave her ass another hard spank. Gwen put a hand on the door frame to support herself and moaned as she orgasmed once more.
The evening was warmer than expected which was good considering the skimpy nature of our bathing suits. We took a bottle of wine with us. It was Friday night and we probably both needed the drink anyway.
We entered the water and I decided to make my move. I sat down next to her and put my arm around her. She seemed to move closer, our hips touched, and her hand rested on my thigh. The sexual anticipation turned into sexual tension, and I leaned in for a kiss. She responded and we kissed gently at first. Our mouths slowly opened, and our tongues began to curl around each other as we made out.
My cock hardened as soon as our tongues touched. Gwen sensed this and moved her hand from my thigh to my cock. She played with my speedos until she finally released it so she could gently stroke it, her fingers feeling every ridge and vein. My free hand caressed her hip before moving to one of her breasts, massaging it outside of her bikini top first before slipping inside. Gwen moaned into my mouth when I pinched her nipple. I pulled her closer as we both began to lose control.
I broke off the kiss and began nibbling at her neck before I freed a breast from her bikini and I began to suck the nipple,
“Oh god, Jack!” Gwen moaned.
I wasn’t finished. Despite the age difference, Gwen had completely turned me on. I wanted to taste her badly. I lifted her so she sat on the edge of the hot tub with her legs spread open and with a finger moved aside her bikini bottom so I could feast upon her pussy. I alternated between sucking her pussy lips and tongue fucking her while maintaining eye contact. The thin strip of pubic hair gave easy access to her lips. The tangy taste of her juices was delicious. Gwen gently held my head in place and had a look of almost orgasmic disbelief on her face. I kept this up for a while before I decided to move things along and switched my focus to her clitoris. This made her give loud guttural moans. Her hips began to move before she orgasmed long and hard, covering my face with her delicious cum. While she recovered, I hungrily licked her pussy, eager to drink as much of her cum as possible.
Gwen gently lifted my head. She must have seen my disappointment because she gave me a sympathetic look, but she had another idea on her mind, and she re-entered the water and mounted me.
Both of my hands took hold of her delectable ass and squeezed it making her moan into my lips as we kissed. She forced her tongue into my mouth and our kiss became passionate. Our mouths locked together as our tongues danced. Gwen broke off the kiss and took hold of my cock, her face full of lust and desire. She rose onto her knees and began to position herself. When I realized what she wanted to do, I said in a domineering tone,
“No, in the bedroom.”
Gwen nodded in her obedience and got out of the water. We left our bathing suits by the door and dried ourselves off before returning to the bedroom naked hand in hand.
We climbed onto the bed, and we returned to our passionate kissing as we kneeled on the bed. Gwen had let herself go. She began to kiss as much of my body as she could while I fingered her. She never once let her hand stray from my cock. I managed to give her another orgasm before I turned her around. I positioned my cock at her entrance before I penetrated her effortlessly from behind making her give a loud high pitched, quivering scream of pleasure.
Normally, I would start slowly but I needed to give myself to this goddess, as I now saw her, and began thrusting hard into her straight away. Gwen moaned and grunted as I moved in and out while holding onto her hips. She felt a little tight, but it felt so good to be inside her. I then realized the purpose of her ponytail and I grabbed hold of it pulling her hair as I roughly fucked her.
Her pussy soon began to tighten around my dick until she orgasmed and collapsed onto her elbows making me let go of her ponytail. She looked behind her and we looked at each other as we fucked. Gwen had two more orgasms before I said in a ragged voice as drops of sweat rolled down my face from the exertion,
“I’m going to cum, Gwen, I’m going to-, GWEN!” I shouted, shooting my load inside her before she could give me permission to do so. I shook from the intense orgasm, and I felt Gwen push back into me as my orgasm gave her one more.
We didn’t move until my cock softened, we just panted silently recovering from what we had just done together. As my cock fell out of Gwen’s grateful pussy, she turned around and held my head in my hands and began to kiss me hard on the lips,
“Thank you, Jack! Thank you, Jack!” she said repeatedly between kisses. She then wrapped her mouth around my cock to clean it before she headed into the bathroom to clean my cum from her pussy. I climbed under the bedsheets and waited for Gwen.
When she returned, she climbed back into bed with me, and we kissed and hugged lovingly like a married couple.
“Thank you, Jack. You made me feel like a woman again,” she said smiling, her eyes glowing brightly. “I know how much older I am than you so it can’t have been easy.”
“Gwen, believe me, you are a goddess. You cannot know how beautiful you are,” I was desperate to make her realize that how she saw herself was not how the world saw her or at least how I saw her.
She kissed and hugged me in gratitude, “You are very sweet Jack, but someone almost half my age cannot believe that.”
It was my turn to kiss her and made sure it was full of love and passion which surprised her.
“Gwen, I mean it. You are a beautiful woman. You have fantastic legs which you should show off, an incredible figure which any woman would be proud of, and your ass, your ass is irresistible,” and I squeezed it to emphasize my point.
A look of astonishment crossed Gwen’s face before she gave me a passionate kiss when she realized that I meant what I said but for some reason being seen like that troubled her.
“What I don’t understand is why all the rough sex,” I continued.
Gwen pursed her lips and looked embarrassed, “I just needed to be domineered by a man for some reason. I wanted a man to control me and make me feel like I was his property, and you did that perfectly, thank you. I don’t know how many times you made me orgasm. You must think I’m strange.”
“It wasn’t easy,” I admitted. “I’m not comfortable treating women that way but you are too incredible to be thought of as strange.”
“I noticed,” she told me stroking my face, “but from the first time you spanked me I knew you would do your best for me, and you didn’t disappoint. I think you are a good man, Jack, and I do believe you about my ass because you haven’t stopped touching it,” and she gave a little laugh. I went red with embarrassment because I hadn’t realized what I was doing. She kept my hand in place when I tried to move it, “Don’t stop, it feels good to feel attractive again.”
“You like to be spanked, don’t you?” I laughed which earned me a playful slap.
“Don’t tell anyone! I’ve never been spanked before, and it was as much a surprise to me that I enjoyed it as you. I was supposed to be getting punished.” Gwen said as she admitted to her surprising sexual awakening.
“Your husband never spanks you? Why not?” I was perplexed.
“I could never ask him to do that!”
“Why not? You are a beautiful and sexy woman who deserves to be pleasured how she wants.”
Gwen gave a sad sigh before confessing, “My marriage is in a rut. I think it has been for years. Will, my husband, has barely touched me for a long time. He spends a lot of time away from home and with my boys grown up and left home I’ve become lonely. I supposed I wanted you to punish me because I felt so lonely and unattractive.”
“You’re not unattractive, you’re beautiful,” I insisted, “and if your marriage is in a rut you need to save it. Don’t give up on it so easily. Find a job. You are an amazing cook, Gwen, maybe you could set up a business giving cooking classes. It will get you out of the house to meet new people and when your husband gets home you need to make him spank you.”
Gwen went bright red, “How would I ever get him to do that!”
“With a blow job,” I said confidently. “If you give him one of your blow jobs he will do anything for you.”
“Are they good?” she asked demurely with a little self-doubt while she circled my nipple.
“They are not good, they are mind-blowing. It took all of my willpower not to cum when you gave me one after dinner.”
She held my face and kissed my cheek with gratitude for my compliment before she reached down and started stroking my cock which stiffened instantly on her touch,
“Will you make love to me?” she asked hopefully.
I smiled before I began to kiss her, and she returned it in kind making me move on top of her. Her legs parted instinctively but she was going to have to wait. She asked me to make love to her and that was what I was going to do.
We made out for a long time, while I caressed her body. Her hands stroked and squeezed my back. I moved down her body and gave attention to her breasts. but she sensed my final destination, and she gently pushed my shoulders so I would continue downwards, I was more than happy to oblige but because she was trying to take charge, I decided to tease her to regain the initiative.
I gently kissed her upper thigh, moving upwards towards her pussy before moving back down her legs. Licked her where her groin met her legs, savoring the sweet aroma coming from her pussy. I gave her little kisses above her clitoris. Her hips lifted as they tried to find what her pussy wanted.
“Please Jack!” Gwen moaned in a desperate voice. “I need it!”
I smiled, I had tortured her enough and I plunged my tongue into her pussy. I moaned as I tasted the sweet nectar that was her cum. I licked it like my life depended on it. I couldn’t get enough. I sucked her lips to make her give me more before I returned to licking her. Gwen’s hips now began to buck like she was begging me to make her orgasm, so I began to lick and nibble her clitoris and she orgasmed with a loud moan a few seconds later. I carried on with my assault making her cum two more times. I then licked her pussy clean enjoying every lick.
When I finally came up for air, she smiled at me in her post-orgasmic bliss and simply whispered,
“Thank you.”
I then began to position myself and she reached down and guided me inside her in our missionary position. Gwen gasped with pleasure as I entered her and this time, I began to make slow deliberate strokes. Gwen raised her legs and wrapped them around me, resting on my hips so I could penetrate her deeper.
We both began moaning, our eyes watching each other during our lovemaking. I was so relieved that she no longer wanted rough sex anymore. This was how I enjoyed doing it. It felt so good to be inside her in this way.
Gwen’s moans soon became ragged, and her hip bucked slowly until an orgasm shook her. She then gave me the words I needed to hear,
“Cum inside me Jack.”
I quickened my pace making Gwen orgasm once until I buried my face into Gwen’s neck and grunted as I came.
When I lifted my head, I saw Gwen smiling lovingly at me, but I could feel her legs still holding me in place,
“Stay inside me a little while longer. I love the feeling of you inside me.”
When Gwen went to the bathroom to wash herself again, I followed her, and we showered together like the lovers we were. Washing each other was very erotic for both of us. We then made out, her hands exploring my body and mine squeezing and caressing her ass.
Tiredness made us return to bed where we fell asleep in each other’s arms.
The following morning, I woke to find Gwen wide awake resting on my shoulder stroking my chest and playing with my nipples. When she felt me stirring, she lifted herself and kissed me, stroking my cheek as she did so. She glowed in the morning sunlight coming through the window. She never looked more beautiful.
“Good morning,” she said happily. There was no awkwardness, only happiness on her face.
“Good morning,” I replied. I pulled her face down to mine so we could have a morning make-out session. Gwen then broke off our kiss and began to kiss down my body. Kissing my neck, and chest, licking my nipples, kissing my stomach until she reached my cock which had become stiff from our making out.
Gwen began to lick up and down the shaft, giving soft kisses in places, and stroking my balls as she did so. I gave a loud sigh in contentment. After one long lick from base to head, she took me into her mouth. I gasped in pleasure from the warm wetness her mouth gave me. As I watched her head bob up and down, doing that trick with her talented tongue, I moaned and moaned, finally able to express the pleasure I couldn’t show the evening before. I then felt my orgasm come on. So did Gwen because she had sped up her efforts. I then exploded into her mouth, and she locked her lips around my dick. When I had finished, she swallowed my cum before licking me clean. She then came back up and we kissed passionately. I could taste the saltiness of my cum on her tongue but I didn’t mind.
“That was for last night,” Gwen said before I could say a word. My mind was still hazy after cumming.
“What did I do?” I asked confused.
“You made me feel special. I haven’t felt like that for a long time.” My stomach then grumbled, “Let’s get up and have breakfast,” she said with a laugh. “My man has been working hard.” The “my man” part was, obviously, a slip of the tongue because her face went bright red as soon as she said it. I decided to ignore it for her sake, but I liked hearing it.
We took our time over breakfast. We just enjoyed each other’s company, kissing and hugging. Gwen’s phone then pinged.
“Abbie has asked if you can stay the rest of the day. Are you okay with that?”
I checked my cell phone; I hadn’t received any message from her.
“If it is okay with you then I am happy,” I replied. Gwen smiled happily and began to message Abbie back. I was annoyed because Abbie didn’t ask me and worried. After all, why did she want me out of the house all day? It seemed strange.
We showered separately. When I stepped out of the bathroom, I saw her agonizing over whether to wear a short skirt.
“Wear it,” I told her. “It is beautiful, just like you, and it will show off your sexy legs.”
That persuaded her and I gave her a deep kiss when I saw her in it. She paired it with a tight top which gave justice to her breasts. She looked like a different woman from whom I met the day before. Happier and more confident.
We couldn’t go out because Gwen didn’t want her neighbors to see her with a man who wasn’t her husband which I understood completely. After all, although we made love, I still was no more than a booty call. Instead, we watched a film together for the rest of the morning. She snuggled into me, and my hand never stopped massaging her ass. After the film, we had lunch together. She made the main course, and I made the dessert.
We then watched a romantic film in the afternoon.
“I love this song,” Gwen said dreamily in my arms as the end credits ran.
“Would you like to dance to it?” I asked.
She smiled and nodded. We stood up and we slowly danced to the love song. Gwen turned around so we danced facing the same way. Gwen leaned back onto my chest and turned her head. I felt her hot heavy breath on my neck, and she reached behind her with one hand to hold my neck. I felt myself go hard and she pushed her ass back into it. Eventually, she turned back to face me, and we kissed.
She kissed me slowly and passionately. Gwen then could not stop herself any longer and she released my cock from my trousers and began to stoke it tenderly as we kissed. She broke off the kiss and reached up under her skirt to remove her panties. She took my hand to take me to the sofa, but I pulled her back. I gave her a deep kiss before I lifted the back of her skirt, squeezed her ass, and lifted her. Gwen wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck as I slowly lowered her down so could enter her. She moaned quietly and with my grip on her ass, I began to move her up and down.
Gwen tried to kiss me as best as she could, but the movement made it impossible, so she just held on to me and allowed me to move in and out of her. She made whimpering noises until she went quiet as she orgasmed, her body shaking. She had two more before I came myself.
Making love standing up like we did, made us move around the house and we finished in the dining room. I gently lowered Gwen onto the table, as she tried to keep my now soft cock inside her.
Gwen then suddenly buried her face into my shoulder and began to sob uncontrollably when she felt me leave her,
“Oh, Jack! What have you done to me?” I just held her, stroking and kissing her hair. “Stay Jack!” she said looking at me with desperate pleading eyes. “Keep making me feel the way you do!”
This was getting too emotionally intense. Part of me wanted to. I loved being with Gwen, but she was a married woman who needed to repair her marriage and get what she needed from her husband. I needed to get back to Abbie. This was a fantasy. A beautiful one but a fantasy nonetheless and we needed to get back to reality before we lost ourselves.
“I’m sorry Gwen, I can’t. I want to but it wouldn’t be good for either of us.”
The crushed look on Gwen’s face broke my heart. I had given this beautiful older woman a taste of what she needed, and she wanted me to keep giving it to her, but I wasn’t the one to do that. I kissed her and told her,
“Promise me you will talk to your husband. Promise me you will make him give you what you deserve. Promise me that you will find yourself a job and make yourself independent and happy. Will you do that for me?”
Gwen’s tear-stained face just nodded, and I saw a glimmer of hope in there. We kissed once more, our tongues dancing together one last time. The sound of a car horn made us reluctantly stop.
“I need to go,” I told Gwen, and I hugged her and gave her a gentle and loving kiss goodbye before I quietly left the house to return to Abbie.
“Welcome home, master,” I welcomed my boyfriend as he walked through the front door, dressed in my scandalously short and low-cut sexy maid outfit, white stockings, and high heels. His jaw almost dropped to the floor when he saw me. It was his birthday and a few weeks ago I found some old social media posts he had made of sexy anime maids.
“I’m not interested in that kind of thing anymore,” he told me, his face bright red with embarrassment, when I confronted him with mock anger, turning into fits of giggles on my part. “I posted those when I was a lot younger,” he tried to explain.
Those posts weren’t as old as he wanted to admit. He made them when he was single, so it didn’t matter to me, but it did give me an idea for a kinky treat for his birthday.
“Happy birthday, master,” I added trying to sound as cute as possible. I had done my research. I had watched a lot of anime and even some anime porn.
To be honest, I was slightly nervous. It wasn’t something I was used to wearing and I wasn’t sure he was going to appreciate it. His jaw-dropping and his eyes bulging from his head reassured me that he certainly wasn’t hating it.
“If it pleases you, Master, please wait in the lounge and I will bring you a beer,” I said with a little bow. Before I took his coat. He looked bewildered. Inside I was getting a thrill at the effect I was having on him.
I went to the kitchen, and I brought the beer for him, bending over as I did so to give him as much of an eyeful of my deep cleavage as I could with a lusty smile.
“Would Master like to see me clean?” I asked keeping the role-playing going. He just nodded with a dumb grin on his face. I picked up the feather duster I bought and began to pretend to dust making sure I bent over so he could see the thong I was wearing underneath my maid outfit. I looked behind me and saw his mouth open staring at my ass.
I was starting to enjoy myself and I knew he was loving what he was seeing. I finished my act to take the role-play to the next level by kneeling submissively in front of him. His trousers were tented up and had an excited look of disbelief.
“Would Master like me to take out his big cock and give him a blow job?” I asked demurely.
He just nodded and somehow blurted out, “Yes please.”
I opened up his trousers and licked up from the base to the head of his cock before I took him into my mouth.
“Fuuuck!” he moaned.
I swirled my tongue around his head before I began to bob my head up and down while making cork-screwing motions with my hands. I could hear him moaning, “Fuck!”, “Jesus!”, “Oh my God!” and I was loving hearing it.
I removed him from my mouth and pulled down the top of my maid outfit, allowing my tits to flop out. I enveloped my tits around his cock, dribbled some spit between them and over his cock for lubricant and began to give him a tit job. I looked up at him as I rubbed his dick with my tits. His eyes were glazed over, and he looked up at the ceiling, his eyes squeezed shut as he enjoyed the feeling of his cock being massaged by my tits.
I was loving doing this to him and getting this reaction from him, but I found spit didn’t make the best lubricant and a tit job was too much hard work.
“Please, Master, will you let me drink your delicious cum?” I offered instead with wide-eyed innocence.
“Yeah,” he breathlessly replied. His cock was rock hard, and I could tell he was desperate to cum in any way possible.
I eagerly took him back into my mouth, bobbing up and down, trying to take as much of him into my mouth as possible. Feeling not submissive enough, I took his hand and put it on the back of my head. Lower and lower I went as I took in more and more of him. I felt him begin to push me down until I had all of him in my mouth.
I didn’t want him to cum like this. I wanted to taste his cum. I pushed myself up. Feeling what I wanted to do he let go of my head. His cock exited from my mouth, but a long strand of saliva kept them joined together.
I gave my boyfriend a naughty smile before I took a deep breath and plunged back down again. I returned to bobbing up and down and corkscrewing my hands. He began to make guttural groans. I could feel he was close. His cock began to throb and wads of gooey cum shot into my mouth. My boyfriend screamed in pleasure and relief,
“Shiiiit!”
I clamped my lips around his cock so not a drop spilt out.
Carefully removing his cock from my mouth, I swirled his cum in my mouth, savouring its flavour before swallowing.
“Would Master like his birthday meal?” I asked sweetly. My boyfriend was in a post-orgasmic daze and could only nod his agreement. I stood up and headed to the kitchen to cook his steak and chips. When I served his meal with another beer, I asked,
“Will Master let me eat with him?” to which he happily agreed.
Remembering what I saw in an anime, I cut up his steak and fed it to him, encouraging him to say, “Ah!” My boyfriend looked like he was fulfilling some kind of fantasy.
All this role-playing, the scantily way I was dressed and my boyfriend’s love of what I was doing, was making me horny. After dinner, I stood up with my hands held demurely in front of me and asked him,
“Would Master like to fuck my wet pussy?”
My boyfriend looked like all his birthdays and Christmases had come all at once. He was more than happy for me to lead him to the bedroom. I climbed onto the bed and knelt on all fours with my ass in the air. The maid outfit barely covered my ass anyway so it didn’t need to be hitched up.
“Please Master, put your big dick into my pussy,” I begged.
He didn’t need to be asked twice and he roughly pulled down my thong and began to feast on my pussy,
“Master, fuck me with your tongue,” I pleaded before a powerful orgasm shook me.
He inserted two fingers inside me making me orgasm again. I could hear him almost rip off his clothes and felt him line himself up before plunging his dick inside me,
“Master, your big dick feels so good inside me,” I moaned as he pumped me. Hearing me say that made him lose control and he began to thrust in and out of me harder and more roughly. I was in ecstasy. My tits were swaying all over the place. I could hear his balls slapping my clit. I had gotten so into the role-play of the sexy anime maid that even then, I was moaning, “Fuck me, Master! Fuck me, Master!” “Maaaaassster!” I screamed when my orgasm wracked through my body.
All this was now too much for my boyfriend and he screamed out his orgasm, “Fuuuuuck!” He came so much. I loved the feeling of his cum dripping out of me because I knew much he enjoyed what I did for him.”
When I got my breath back, I turned around and said, “Happy birthday, Darling,” with a kiss.
“Thank you for the best birthday present I ever had,” my boyfriend said gratefully and he kissed me deeply in gratitude. “You were so fucking hot. Go and have a shower and get changed. I’ll wash the dishes then we can watch a film while I’ll give you a foot rub. Your feet must be sore from being in those heels. I love you!” and he kissed me deeply again.
“I love you too!” I smiled, happy at how much my effort was appreciated.
“Can anything be more devastating than a husband uncovering his wife’s betrayal through the contraction of a sexually transmitted infection? It’s a heart-wrenching revelation that shakes the very foundation of trust and love. The pain and anguish of such a discovery cut deep, leaving wounds that may never fully heal.”
Rose courageously faces her husband and his affair partner head-on during his surprise birthday celebration, with the support of the other betrayed spouse.
Tony confronts his cheating, departed wife as he delivers the divorce papers. Her betrayal and abandonment fuel his impassioned action, as he seeks closure and justice after being wronged.
Julia’s eyes opened abruptly, and she gasped with surprise when she found herself sitting on a metal chair. She surveyed her surroundings. She was in what looked like a drab waiting room. The chair that she was sitting on was one of many lined up against a wall. The walls were beige, and the floor was lined with worn carpet tiles. One or two ceiling tiles were missing and one of the overhead lights flickered so badly, that it irritated the eyes. There wasn’t a single window.
An elderly lady sat behind a desk and was typing away on a keyboard which was attached to a computer that judging by the size of the monitor was almost thirty years old.
“Hello, dear,” the lady said with a friendly smile when she looked up and saw Julia.
“Where am I?” Julia asked with confusion.
“Purgatory, dear,” she replied. Before Julia could say anything, the lady told her, “Peter will see you now,” and she indicated the door to the left of her desk.
Julia made her way to the door and gave the lady an uneasy smile as she passed her. Something about the lady made Julia nervous.
When Julia tentatively passed through the door, her breath was taken away. In contrast to the drab waiting room, the office she entered was sleek, bright, and modern. The walls were white and modern art hung on the walls and the floors were laminated wood. Modern and stylish lights hung down from the white plastered ceiling. To one side a sofa and armchair surrounded a glass coffee table. There were shelves with books and pot plants. Dominating the office was a desk made from maple wood. On the desk was a modern, curved computer monitor and a wireless keyboard and mouse. At the far end was another door. Again, there were no windows.
“Julia, welcome! Come and take a seat,” the friendly-looking man with the greying hair from behind the desk said indicating the chair in front of his desk.
“Where am I?” Julia asked again, still looking confused. “The lady outside said this was purgatory.”
“That is right,” the man smiled.
“And that your name was Peter.”
The man nodded sensing that Julia was about to realize what had happened to her, “You probably know me better as St Peter.”
“That must mean-,” a look of horror came over Julia’s now ashen face. “That must mean I’m dead.”
“That is right,” Peter said gently, “you are dead.”
This was always a difficult time for the recently deceased. If they died of old age, then normally, they were prepared for it and even welcomed it. For those who died from unnatural circumstances, the process was a lot harder.
“Please, no! Don’t make it true!” she said as she began to sob.
“I’m afraid it is,” Peter said sympathetically. “The first moments after death are always the hardest. You will get plenty of therapy to help you adjust. I always find that it helps if we just crack on and figure out why you are here. Can you tell me what you remember before you got here?”
Julia’s brow furrowed as she tried to recall what happened, “I was at home with Quentin. He was angry with me. He became angry and jealous after I left Tony and moved in with him. I remember that we had a big argument. He was crazy and I was frightened. I ran and hid. I tried to send Tony a message for help, but Quentin found me before I could send it. He punched me and punched me again and again then I found myself here.”
“When you say Quentin, you mean Quentin Chalfont and Tony is your husband, Tony Mikelsen?”
Julia nodded her head.
“I’m sorry to tell you that you didn’t die from the punches. Quentin smothered you with a pillow after he punched you unconscious and you died from suffocation.”
“Oh, no!” Julia gasped as she realized the true brutal horror of her death, but she was surprised that she wasn’t crying.
“Now, then,” Peter said smiling as he turned to his monitor and put on a pair of glasses, “Let’s look at why you are here in purgatory. Normally, most deceased go straight to either Heaven or Hell depending on how they lived their lives. Those who are on the borderline, come and see me. Let’s see, Julia Mickelsen nee Taylor, you were born on the May 15th 1976 and you died on the December 3rd 2023. You are survived by your husband Tony Mikelsen, as you are yet to be divorced, and your three children Hayley, Kelly, and Jack.”
“How are they?” Julia asked worriedly. “How are Tony and my children?”
“Your children are very upset. They miss you terribly. Tony misses you less.”
Julia looked crushed and tears began to flow down her cheeks.
Peter looked at her sympathetically before he continued, “You worked as a defence attorney for which you did some very good work. You worked pro bono to prevent a child from getting tried as an adult for a crime he didn’t commit, and successfully defended an abused woman who nearly killed her abusive husband, I believe most thought she was going to jail for the rest of her life, and successfully defended a young man falsely accused of rape when he had already been judged by society amongst other good work.”
“I am very proud of that. I made no money from any of those cases,” Julia said with a smile.
Peter returned her smile, “You did a lot of work for charity. You donated a lot of money, but you gave something more precious, your time to those in need. Well done. You were until recently a good and loving mother and wife.” Peter’s face then darkened, “Now the not-so-good, you successfully defended a guilty rapist who went on to rape again, destroying the reputation of the victim in the process. You refused to defend a man who was wrongly convicted of murder and who is now spending the rest of his life behind bars.”
“I was just doing my job. I did what I was told,” Julia said trying to defend herself.
Peter gave a small chuckle, “If I had a dollar for the number of people who come before me and say I was just doing my job or I was just following orders. You always have a choice. Anyway, despite it all your good outweighed the bad as far as your job is concerned. The reason you’ve been sent to me is because of your marriage.”
“My marriage?” Julia asked sounding confused.
“Yes, in particular, your infidelity,” Peter said, his voice laced with disapproval.
“Oh,” Julia said sounding disappointed.
“You made a vow before God, saying you would forsake all others and you didn’t. We take infidelity very seriously. It is mentioned twice in the Ten Commandments.”
“But I’m not Jewish,” Julia said still sounding confused.
Peter pinched the part of his nose between his eyes like he had heard that many times, “I wish God had been clearer to Moses that the Ten Commandments applied to everyone and not just the Jewish people. You are bound by the Ten Commandments, as is everyone, and you broke clause 7, “You must not commit adultery,” and clause 3, you took the Lord’s name in vain a few too many times but we tend to look over that these days. God is a bit more tolerant these days especially when you use it in the way you did, if you understand my meaning. But clause 7 is why you are here.”
Julia became wide-eyed with panic, “Am I going to Hell?” she asked starting to hyperventilate.
“Not necessarily,” Peter told her. “Tell me why did you do it? Why did you betray your husband? Tony is a good man; did he deserve your betrayal.”
Julia’s eyes burned with indignation before the flames were extinguished by guilt and she looked away from Peter, “No he didn’t,” she admitted. “I don’t know why I did what I did. Tony wasn’t just a good man. He was an excellent husband and lover, and he gifted me three beautiful children. I was very lucky to be married to him.”
“So, what prompted you to leave him for someone like Quentin Chalfont?” Peter asked.
“I don’t know what you want me to say?” Julia shrugged with resignation. “Does it matter? I screwed up and I will pay the ultimate price, and I will go to Hell for it.”
“It does matter,” Peter countered, “because where you are going hasn’t been decided yet, that is why you have come to purgatory. All I am asking for is the truth and what is in your heart.”
Julia’s shoulders sagged, “Tony is wonderful. I felt safe and happy from the first day we were exclusive together. For such a tough guy he is so gentle but also could be a little rough in the bedroom which made the sex with him exciting. I loved that about him. He is an incredible father. I betrayed him because I felt too safe, and I craved a taste of the high life and danger. It is stupid and selfish I know. It wasn’t as if we couldn’t afford a taste now and again. I earned very good money and Tony earned very good money as a police detective. The funny thing was that most women would cheat for the danger and excitement, but Tony already gave me that. What I wanted was a bit of glamour in my life.”
“And Quentin Chalfont gave you that?” Peter asked with a reproachful tone.
Julia nodded, “I met him at a charity fundraiser. Tony couldn’t go because he was working nights. Quentin was very charming, well-dressed, and rich. I don’t know why but he chased me that evening. It was very flattering. I danced with him; I knew it was wrong and I knew Tony would have been angry if he found out but the last person to chase after me was Tony. It felt good to be desired by someone who wasn’t my husband, especially by someone younger than me. Imagine someone my age with three children being chased by a younger man. I stupidly gave him my cell phone number that night. Quentin began to message me, and I met him for dinner. I told myself it wasn’t a date, but it was. It wasn’t long before I slept with him. It was at his house. I lied to Tony that it was a business dinner. I bought new lingerie and a new dress for the occasion. I felt so sexy. I hadn’t felt like that for a long time. Quentin’s house was huge with a swimming pool. He had servants. He lived a life of luxury. When I went out with him, nothing appeared unattainable to him. He would whisper compliments to me. It was so intoxicating. Before long I developed feelings for him. I decided that I wanted to be with Quentin all the time. I convinced myself I deserved the life of luxury that Quentin would give me as his significant other, so I decided to leave Tony.”
“Were you aware of Quentin’s reputation?”
Julia nodded, “I knew he was a womanizer and had broken up marriages, but I didn’t care, I was infatuated with him. Tony didn’t compare anymore. The sex felt better with Quentin. I’m now not so sure, I think was just different.”
“Were you aware of Quentin’s other reputation?”
Julia shook her head, looking confounded.
“That he is a violet womanizer. He hated women and he was probably just using you.”
“No, that isn’t true. I admit he wasn’t the nicest of men, but he isn’t like that,” Julia objected.
“Yet you died at his hand. You tried to send a message to Tony to rescue you. But as an attorney, I am surprised that you had no idea. He faced several court cases where he abused his former partners. Tony even warned you.”
“No, he didn’t!” Julia insisted forcefully.
“Yes, he did,” Peter corrected. “The day you left Tony warned you,” Peter looked at his monitor and said in a flat voice as he read, “’Please, stay away from that crazy mother fucker, he will be the death of you. For our children’s sake, I’m begging you, stay away from him,’ it was kind of prophetic, don’t you think?”
The colour drained from Julia’s face, “I thought he was being melodramatic, so I called him pathetic,” she said in a distraught voice. “What have I done?” and she began to sob again.
“How do you feel about your infidelity now?” Peter asked thoughtfully.
“I’ve been so stupid. I can’t believe what I’ve done. I had everything and I threw it all away even my life, for money, for a life I couldn’t afford, for a psychopath,” Julia wailed morosely between sobs.
“Yes, they do say money is the root of all evil. What about Tony and your children? What about the hurt you caused them?”
Julia hung her head, “I am so ashamed. I hoped the children would come to accept Quentin. I never wanted to hurt them. I never thought they would be hurt. It was just between Tony and I.”
“Your children tried to contact you, but you never replied,” Peter said accusingly.
“Quentin took away my phone as soon as I moved in. The day I died, was just before Jack’s birthday. I wanted to see him, but Quentin told me I wasn’t allowed to go, so I found my phone where Quentin hid it, but he caught me. That is why he did what he did. I miss my children so much!”
“And Tony?”
“I wish I did things differently. He never deserved to be treated the way I treated him at the end.”
“Would it be fair to say you are remorseful?”
Julia nodded between sobs.
“Remorseful for how it turned out considering you could spend eternity in Hell or remorseful for the hurt you caused?”
“For the hurt I caused,” Julia told him with a great deal of pain in her voice.
Peter stared at Julia deep in thought, tapping a pen on his teeth irritatingly as he did so.
“Please,” Julia sobbed in fear, finally realizing her eternal fate was about to be decided, “I don’t want to go to Hell. Please don’t send me there. I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for hurting Tony and the children. I don’t think I’ve been such a bad person. Please don’t send me there. If I could, I would undo all the hurt I caused. I love them all. I promise you I am sorry.” Julia began shaking uncontrollably.
Peter’s eyebrows rose at Julia’s words, “Are you prepared to repent?” he asked seriously. Before Julia could reply, Peter’s phone rang, “Yes, Amaal. How many? I see. Let me finish here then send the first one in,” he said on the phone. “I do apologise, Julia. A religious cult has just arrived. A mass suicide. There will be a lot of disappointed souls there, I can tell you. Always are with religious cults.”
Julia smiled weakly, “Who is Amaal?”
“The receptionist. She is a demon.” Seeing Julia’s shocked face, he explained with a shrug, “This is purgatory. Representatives from Heaven and Hell need to be here but because everyone wants to go to Heaven, we get to decide who is allowed in Heaven and the rest go to Hell. Amaal was working in reception before I started if you could believe that. Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, repenting.” Peter’s expression became very serious, “Are you prepared to repent all your sins? Think very carefully before you answer. False repenting will condemn you to hell.”
“Can I ask some questions first?” Julia said with a great deal of trepidation.
“Of course,” Peter replied encouragingly.
“How does Tony feel about me?”
Peter looked at his monitor and made some clicks with his mouse, “He is torn between love and hate but is searching for indifference. He is still mourning you leaving him.”
Julia covered her mouth with her hand as pangs of sadness swept over her, “Oh, no!” she despaired. “Can you arrange it so he will be happy again and forget me? Can you arrange it so he will go to heaven one day?”
Peter looked back at Julia and smiled sympathetically, “Despite what you are taught, only people can make themselves happy, not God. They are solely responsible for their decisions and actions in life that will affect what happens to them in eternity but if Tony continues to do what he is doing then he will be assured to be going to Heaven.”
“And Haley, Kelly, and Jack? Do they hate me? Do they know that I love them? Will they live happy lives?” Julia asked worriedly.
Peter again looked at his monitor and made some more clicks with his mouse, “They don’t hate you. They are just disappointed in you. They do hate what you did to Tony, and they are unsure if you loved them or not. Again, they will be responsible for their actions and decisions that will determine their happiness.”
“And Quentin?” Julia asked fearfully.
Peter didn’t look at his monitor. Instead, he just pointed downward, “I believe they are looking forward to meeting him.”
Julia composed herself and took a deep breath, “I am ready,” she told Peter. “I repent it all. I repent all the bad choices and actions I made in my life. I repent for all the pain and hurt I gave Tony, Haley, Kelly, and Jack. I repent my infidelity. I am sorry for what I did to my family. I was so caught up in my selfish desires that I never thought about what it was doing to those closest to me. I don’t think I deserved to die for it though. I am not going to ask for forgiveness though. Only Tony and my children can give me any meaningful forgiveness, not God. Whether I go to Heaven or Hell, it doesn’t matter. My children not knowing that I love them and my guilt for what I did to Tony is my hell to live with for eternity. Nothing that they would do to me in Hell can be more painful than that.”
Peter looked at Julia with pursed lips. A flicker of an impressed expression was threatening to break his passive exterior, “Huh, I wasn’t expecting that,” he said. Peter turned to his monitor and made some more clicks with his mouse and a printer began to print behind him. Peter theatrically spun his chair around and took the paper from the printer before theatrically spinning back again and giving it to Julia. “Julia Mickelsen nee Taylor you have been judged,” he smiled. “Take this form and walk through that door over there and you will discover your fate.”
“Thank you,” Julia smiled appreciatively. She stood up and walked towards the door and opened it. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and passed through.
Tony looked down at his wife, Julia, lying in the open casket. She looked beautiful, just as he remembered her. Even though she was in her late forties, he could still see the young woman he married twenty-five years ago. Back then they were in love and lusted over each other constantly. Their wedding day was a painful day for her. She was so desperate to get him to the bridal suite at the hotel and fuck his brains out. Several times she pulled him towards the door only for some relative or other to separate them. Once finally in their room, they consummated their marriage with Julia still wearing her wedding dress such was her pent-up desire.
That was a long time ago. Three children arrived who were now teenagers. They took their mother’s death hard. It was no way to die for a mother.
As Tony watched his wife lying before him, waves of different emotions swept over him, sadness, grief, anger, pain, thirst for revenge, and relief. Tony shook his head to clear the conflicting emotions from his head. He only needed one emotion, indifference.
“Julia, what happened?” he sighed. “I’m going to guess, under the circumstances, it wasn’t worth it. I warned you about Quentin Chalfont. I told you to stay away from him, but you told me I had nothing to worry about him. You told me I was crazy for even suggesting you were having an affair with him. When you told me you were leaving us for him, I begged you not to go. I begged you for the sake of our children not to go to him. You called me pathetic, but you couldn’t or wouldn’t understand what I was trying to tell you. I think you understand now, don’t you, but it is far too late though, isn’t it?”
Tony paused to compose himself as emotions began to well up inside him again as he spoke to his deceased wife.
“The kids were crushed when you left. They blamed themselves for you leaving. They told me they were sorry. They were sorry for fighting. They were sorry for leaving the house in a mess all the time. They were sorry for everything they could think of that might have caused you to leave us. They tried to call and message you. They tried every way to contact you, to try and persuade you to come back but you never replied. Maybe you couldn’t or maybe you didn’t want to. We will never know now, will we?”
“Since you left, we have all been in therapy together. We have a weekly family outing to see a therapist, well a family outing missing one person. The person that caused all the problems in the first place. I suppose our new family tradition will be going on for a bit longer now, won’t it?” Tony said with a wry smile.
“It was, of course, Jack’s thirteenth birthday last week. We tried to celebrate the best we could despite your circumstances, but all he wanted for his birthday was his mom. What do you say to your child when he asks for that? When he asks for the one thing you can’t give him.”
Tony paused once again to suppress his emotions as he began to choke on his words. That was the hardest moment of his life. It was harder even than telling his children that their mother had died.
“What was it that attracted you to Quentin Chalfont? The money? The cars? His charming personality? Did you want a piece of his lifestyle? I admit it must have been seductive especially when he took an interest in you. After all, you were a married mother of three, what man would be interested in a woman like that? Quentin Chalfont, that’s who. He is famous for breaking up marriages and splitting up families. How could you have not known that? A cop on a cop’s salary could never offer you what he could. What was less well-known was that he was a crazy mother fucker with a hatred of women, but I knew it. I tried to warn you. I tried to tell you that you needed to stay well away from him, but I couldn’t get through to you.
“When the police arrived at the door at the crack of dawn, I have to say I wasn’t surprised. I was sad, but I wasn’t surprised. They tell me that he beat you unconscious with his fists then he smothered you with a pillow. He had abused many women before you, but his fancy lawyers and his money kept him out of jail. Not this time. Killing a cop’s wife, even an unfaithful wife who had left him, causes the system to come after you. The DA says that they found an unsent message pleading for help on your phone. Who were you going to send that message to? To me? To another lover? If was to me, I would have come to rescue you, hell, I would even have let you stay in our home. Not for me, but for the kids. They missed you. I would have loved it if Quentin Chalfont had come to our home, then I could have put a bullet in his head, and it would have been legal. I suppose the law will have to take my revenge for me. Is that why he killed you? Were you going to leave him? Were you planning to come home? The police think that is why he killed you. He couldn’t allow anyone to leave him.
“The DA is going for the death penalty. They want to send a message to any rich fucker, and domestic abuser who thinks they are above the law. Quentin Chalfont’s place in hell was assured a long time ago.
“It will be your funeral in a few minutes. I will have to shed a few tears for show but to be honest, I have already mourned you and I am ready to move on. I began to mourn you the day you left. I have to say the Undertakers have done a terrific job. There isn’t a sign of the bruising that I saw when I identified your body. I barely recognised you, but the Undertakers have made you beautiful again. You were always beautiful.
“As much as I have enjoyed our last conversation, Julia, saying goodbye wasn’t the reason for my visit,” Tony reached into the casket, gently lifted Julia’s stiff arms, and slid a manila envelope under them so it was held tightly to her chest. “Divorce papers. Our marriage was over the moment you climbed into Quentin Chalfont’s bed and spread your legs for him. I saw a lawyer a day after you left but I never managed to give them to you. I suppose I still hoped you would see sense and come home. I’m getting full custody of the kids, taking the house and I’m not paying alimony, but that shouldn’t be a problem now, should it? I would appreciate it if you could sign them and get them back to me as soon as possible once you’ve arrived at wherever you’re going. Goodbye, Julia, you have been served,” Tony told his wife with a great deal of hostility.
Tony turned to walk away before he stopped and hung his head, putting his hand on his hips. He turned back around as a solitary tear slowly found its way down his cheek, “I did love you, Julia,” he told her with great sadness in his voice. “I loved you with all my heart. I wonder if you ever realized how much you broke my heart when you began to cheat on me and how much damage you caused. I forgive you, Julia. I forgive you for the cheating because it doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? But I can’t forgive you for dying. The children are distraught. It was your choices that led to your death. If you had just left us or even left us for a different man then the children would still have a mother, but you didn’t and for that, I can never forgive you. Goodbye, Julia, I will pray that you go to heaven and find forgiveness for your sins.”
After his divorce, Will seeks solace in the vibrant streets of Madrid, desperate to escape the lingering bitterness of his divorce. It is there that he encounters the enchanting Teresa, a woman of grace and allure, navigating her own turbulent path through divorce. A magnetic pull draws the two together, and in a moment of fiery passion, their live are irreversibly intertwined.
But is their connection meant to be fleeting, or could it blossom into a love strong enough to defy the odds?
Will looked at his phone and sighed irritably. There were five missed calls, an angry voicemail and several text messages from his ex-wife demanding where he was. There were other missed calls and abusive text messages from a number he didn’t recognise. He assumed it was his ex-wife’s new boyfriend.
He knew full well why they were calling and why they were so angry. He had agreed to go to a party they were throwing but a tip-off from a friend told him that they wanted to use the party to announce their engagement and wanted Will there so they could humiliate him. So, he made the decision not to attend. Not having the decency to tell his ex-wife of his absence was what had made her so angry. His refusal to be riled, angry, cry or show any emotion after their separation ate into his ex-wife and she had become obsessed with hurting him.
That party he just did not need. It had been three months since his divorce. Will’s wife out of the blue told him she was leaving him. He had been blindsided. He had not seen it coming. Just shy of twenty-five years of marriage and two grown-up children she just ups and leaves. No, ‘It is me, not you’ or ‘I love you but I’m not in love with you’ but a brutal, ‘I can’t bear to stay married to you any longer.’
The manner of her leaving put a strain on her relationship with her children and her new younger boyfriend’s attempts to parent their children meant they rarely visited their mother. She demanded that they both attend the party, but they flat-out refused. Sharing their mother’s trait of brutal honesty, they told their mother of their intense disapproval and dislike of her boyfriend. That neither Will nor her children would be attending her engagement party would bring huge embarrassment to her as her attempts to present a happy family and the amicable divorce that she gushed over social media and her friends would be left exposed and in ruins.
All the same, Will could have done without his ex-wife blowing up his phone. He took a long drink of his cold beer. It tasted good and refreshing, the evening was still and hot, much hotter than he was used to for early May. Instead of going to the party, Will had booked a last-minute trip to Madrid where the weather was hot and sunny—a perfect place to escape and unwind after an emotional and stressful year.
The bar he was in was a modern rooftop bar of the very expensive hotel he was staying at and could not realistically afford. The glass holding his beer was cold to the touch from being in the freezer and the frozen condensation on the glass was melting in the hot evening air. At that moment, there was nothing in the world he loved more than that beer.
As he drank, a glamorous woman flamboyantly approached the bar. She was, obviously Spanish. Her dark olive skin contrasted strongly with her loose yet short bright lime green dress, thin straps holding it on her shoulders. Long, black luxurious hair flared down her back. Her dark brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the failing light. Her smooth legs appeared to gleam like they were demanding to be admired.
‘Vino Blanco, Sergio!’ she asked the bartender breezily with a friendly smile.
Will’s phone rang loudly again,
‘Tsk!’ exclaimed Will with annoyance as he hung up, immediately silencing the phone.
‘Por qué la cara mala, guapo?’ the woman asked Will quizzically on seeing and hearing his annoyance as her white wine was poured by Sergio.
Will looked up and his face flushed with embarrassment. He was not used to being called handsome.
‘I’m sorry. It was my ex-wife,’ he replied in English, a little sheepishly without thinking.
The woman’s face cracked into a smile, she thanked Sergio and took her wine before sitting down next to Will and resting her chin on her hand looking at him with great interest.
“I know,” Matt unexpectedly whispers to his wife, Amanda, as she opens up about her affair.
Under the looming threat of divorce, Matt compels Amanda to acknowledge her long-standing struggles with low self-worth and self-esteem. With unwavering support from Matt, Amanda embarks on a daunting and soul-stirring journey to confront the roots of her insecurities, all the while unsure if their marriage will weather the storm.
Matt, too, must navigate his own path towards finding the strength to pardon Amanda, whilst carrying the weight of her mental illness.
Can their marriage endure the turbulence of infidelity? Will Matt uncover the answers he seeks and grant Amanda forgiveness?
Amanda stood in her lounge on a Friday evening waiting for her husband Matt. He was late arriving from work. Tears were streaming down her face, her face wracked with fear and guilt. She had taken her two children to her parents for the night because she had a serious confession to make to her husband, one that would more than likely tear her family apart and traumatise their children.
She couldn’t help but think about their life together. It was a good life, happy, safe, and secure. Full of so many happy memories. Matt was a wonderful husband, attentive and caring. Their lovemaking was so fulfilling both physically and emotionally. She couldn’t dream of a better father for their children. Life was perfect.
It should have been enough but when she was offered the chance she accepted. She resisted at first but the temptation was too great. She shouldn’t have but she did. That first time was one time too many but she did it again. Then again and kept doing it over the past two months. Why? Why did she do it? She didn’t love him. He was less than Matt yet he made her feel how she deserved.
The sound of a car made her look out of the window and she saw Matt pull into the driveway. Amanda took a deep breath to compose herself then another. It was no good, it didn’t help. When Matt walked in, she threw herself at him making him drop his laptop bag on the floor, wrapping her arms around him, kissing like it would be the last time she would do it. It would more than likely be.
“Matt, I love you! I love you so much!” she sobbed.
“Mandy, what’s the matter?” Matt asked full of concern. Perplexed at his wife’s welcome.
“I don’t understand?” Matt said with confusion. “It can’t be that bad.”
Amanda held onto Matt tighter, “For the past two months I have been having an affair with a colleague at work.”
She felt Matt’s arms tighten around in a loving embrace, feeling the hotness of his breath on her ear then she heard the words she least expected, “I know.”
“I deserve this” is the mantra Marissa uses to justify her affair. “I deserve this” is the belief that helps Marissa accept the consequences of her actions.
A fateful encounter leads Marissa, a devoted housewife, back into the workforce where she lands a job as the assistant to Jason McIntyre, a prominent literary agent. Unbeknownst to her, she becomes entangled in his captivating web of seduction, gradually convincing herself that she is destined for a life beyond what her husband, Mike, can provide.
It’s only when the illusion of her infidelity shatters around her that she realises the magnitude of what she has lost.
“So, how was your first day?” Jason McIntyre smiled at Marissa, his new assistant. Jason’s smile was charming and would make anyone who it was aimed at feel like they were the only person in the room. It was the same smile he used when he offered Marissa her job and with that one smile, it made it impossible for Marissa to turn it down.
Marissa spent her career working in the literary world, working her way up, proofreading, liaising with publishers and now was working as the assistant to one of the most important literary agents in the industry. That Jason McIntyre was handsome and charming, his soft Scottish lilt adding to it, was a perk. Marissa was over forty now, though, and thought herself immune to falling for such charms.
“Fascinating! Marissa replied excitedly. “I knew you represented so many famous authors but I had no idea how many!”
“That is because we do not interfere in their artistic process or demand unreasonable changes,” Jason explained. “We just tell them what sells. Why don’t you go home? It’s getting late. Tomorrow we can start planning your duties,” Jason said with a wink which Marissa saw through the reflection of her monitor, prompting her to give a girlish giggle. He gently massaged Marissa’s shoulders as he spoke. Marissa had to stifle a moan; his strong hands felt so good on her shoulders. There was something about Jason, he just made the world appear so much more exciting.
Marissa’s job was a huge and unexpected advancement in her career. She was to liaise with the authors Jason currently represented and try to persuade other authors to come to them on Jason’s behalf. It was a cutthroat world and it came with a big salary.
Marissa lived a comfortable and happy suburban life with her husband, Mike, and two children, Izzy, twelve, and Jack, 10. Mike had a well-paid and secure job as a team leader in an IT department so money was never an issue. The children saw friends and did activities in their free time. However, Izzy and Jack just didn’t need their mother’s time anymore and she had begun to get bored and alone at home so Marissa agreed with her husband that she could return to focus on her career.
A chance meeting with Jason McIntyre himself at a literary conference led to the job offer. The job was a dream come true and it significantly boosted her and Mike’s household income. Their future now looked bright and full of possibilities.
Marissa settled into her job quickly and she was enthusiastic in her duties. When on conference calls she marvelled at how smooth Jason was and how at ease he made her feel in his company. Assistant and boss exchanged phone numbers and began to regularly message each other in the evenings and on weekends which would always bring an excited smile to her face.
“Who’re you messaging?” Mike would ask, irritated that his wife’s attention was focused elsewhere.
“Jason,” Marissa replied off-handedly as she focused on her messages. “He is chasing Margaret Earlwood, the author of the Debbie Walsh Mysteries books.”
“Impressive, but does he have to message you when you’re at home? Also, I don’t like how secretive you are when you do it. Why do you always hide your phone when I look at it?”
“Because discretion is part of the job. I do it to protect you from seeing something you shouldn’t. I don’t want you to mention something private by accident. To be successful in the literary world, you often have to work out of hours in case you miss your chance! You sometimes have to work out of hours and so do I,” Marissa explained to her husband more irritably than she meant to. “Besides it’s exciting to talk to a successful man.”
That last comment stung Mike hard. Marissa had always been proud of his achievements, at least he thought she had.
“You don’t think I’m successful?” Mike asked sounding hurt.
“I’m sorry, Mike. That was uncalled for,” Marissa apologised guiltily. “I shouldn’t have said that, it was wrong of me but you have to admit his International Literary Agent of the Year Award is a bit more impressive than an Employee of the Month award and a £50 Amazon voucher.”
“I made sure employees on low wages got paid on time for that award. Does a literary agent do that?”
“Mike, you need to understand that what Jason does is a bigger deal! Working for Jason is an amazing opportunity for me and for us!” Marissa told him firmly shutting down their argument.
Marissa’s constant messaging with Jason became a rift between her and Mike. All Mike wanted was an evening as a family or just the two of them without Marissa’s phone interrupting them. They began to argue about it constantly and neither of them would back down.
“Are you okay, Marissa?” Jason asked on seeing his assistant staring into space pensively. His charming smile made her feel happy as it always did, his silvery hair reflecting the sunlight coming through the window made him appear to almost have a halo.
Marissa smiled weakly, “I’m fine, Jason. It’s just that Mike doesn’t appreciate the demands of the job. He just doesn’t get how big a deal this job is for me. I’ve been waiting for this opportunity for so long. I feel like he is holding me back like he is jealous because his job is so ordinary and this one is so full of possibilities.”
Jason smiled again and walked over to Marissa’s desk to sit on it.
“I understand,” he told her looking concerned and taking hold of her hand. “This line of work can be demanding on families. I want to tell you that I am very happy with your performance and I do appreciate what you are doing for me,” and he gave Marissa’s hand a soft, slow kiss. “Speaking of which,” Jason said brightly changing the subject, “I have a dinner meeting with a publisher to sell a new author to them and I would like you to attend. Can you make it?”
“Of course, I would love to,” Marissa exclaimed breathlessly.
“Great! Be at L’Escargot at 7pm on the 23rd and dress to impress. It may be business but you will be expected to wear evening wear.”
Marissa touched the hand Jason kissed. Her heart was racing so fast.
Sean Dalton Erotic 