Her Other Life – Cheating wife

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Dave wasn’t home, thank Christ, when I got there. I became increasingly sick of the guilt and the secrecy for a diminishing return. It’s quite bizarre, thinking back on it, but I was kind of proud of my efforts at concealment and not having anyone to brag to about it was a little frustrating. Then I had a brilliant idea. I could tell Wendy about it. Taking the walkabout phone and sitting where I could see Dave return, I rang her. She was thrilled at my news and we compared notes about our lovers. I was a little jealous she had a husband that knew and accepted her lover, but she agreed that telling my Dave would be a very bad move. I rang off when I saw Dave arriving about an hour later.

I felt bad that the Saturday meetings with John were cutting into my weekends with Dave, so from then until our overnight trips resumed, I stuck to ‘working late’ during the week. The guilt never did diminish.

The next near disaster happened a couple of weeks later. I was ‘working late’ and we’d only been at the restaurant across town from my place about half an hour. Our meals hadn’t even arrived. As usual, I hadn’t had anything to drink. It made my defences weak and increased the chances of John getting through them if he wanted something I didn’t. He was still nagging me about anal. I was just returning from the bathroom, when I glanced at the maitre d’s desk. There was Dave checking in. Terrified, I retreated back to the bathroom. Luckily, I’d brought my phone so I rang John. When Dave was being led to a table, I snuck out. I’d travelled with John this time, so I had to wait until he could pay and escape as well. It was terrifying, even John was rattled. Dave catching us could have led to his wife finding out about our affair.

He recovered quickly, though, and stunned me by suggesting that as Dave wasn’t home, we could use my bed. The thought of that obviously really excited him. I wondered why but turned him down flat. He then suggested a motel but I was nowhere near in the mood for that so asked him to take me back to my car in the office carpark. He didn’t let me get away scot free though. He absolutely insisted I blow him in his car once we reached work. As I had no way to clean up, I reluctantly swallowed. Yuck! It was one of the least romantic things I’d ever done.

From then on, restaurants were out. That marked a major drop in the quality of my experience with John. By going to a restaurant first, I could at least pretend I was in control and sit there deciding if John was going to score or not. I lost that when we just met at a motel. I stalled John for the next two weeks. He responded by slowly withdrawing his attention at work.

In fact, the next time was unusual enough to rekindle the magic a little. With the financial year over, it was my job to organise the office party where bonuses would be handed out. I’d typed them all up and knew there wasn’t one for me. I’d only been there a few months, after all. Everyone left work early to get changed for the party that started at 7:30p.m. John had suggested I bring a change of clothes to work so I didn’t have to go home. The reason why became clear when he whisked me off to a room at the classiest hotel in town. The venue of the party. Once there, he ripped my clothes off and just did me. He obviously missed me which was extremely flattering.

At 7:30, I was showered and met Dave at the party. After the entrees, John handed out the bonus envelopes. I was very surprised when he called my name last. I was staggered when I opened the envelope and saw the amount. It was twice as much as the other girls got. I almost swooned at the implications of that. Here I was, sitting next to my husband, with John’s cum still leaking out, holding a big fat bonus cheque. It made me feel like a high class hooker. I loved it. If Dave hadn’t been there, I would have taken John back upstairs and given him my ass there and then.

Sadly, the night went downhill from there. I had to keep an eagle eye on John. Whenever he spoke to Dave, a condescending smile lit his face. If he wasn’t careful, he’d give us away. Then there was separating Dave from the hordes of single women that constantly surrounded him, some of them being altogether too familiar with him on the dance floor. He did look good in his suit though, so I couldn’t blame them. At one point, I saw he and Peta on the dance floor. She was practically rubbing her crotch up and down his leg. I stormed over, but as I approached them, he was in the process of forcing her away, reminding the drunk girl he was married. I had one dance with John, but he held me at arm’s length as his wife was there. In the end, I drank way too much and Dave had to assist me to our discounted room at the hotel, where I promptly passed out. I remember nothing until Dave getting back into bed, around dawn, roused me. I ended up spending Saturday hung over. Dave went fishing Sunday and I spent an hour in bed, twice masturbating to memories of Friday. My guilt was getting worse rather than lessening though, so even that made me feel bad. Dave had been his strong, supportive self on Friday and here I was, his wife, masturbating to memories of how my lover had made me feel like a hooker. I felt so bad, that when Dave came home, I begged off sex with him again that night.

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