A married woman is needed by a sexy younger man

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Sex stories, cheating, married woman is needed by a sexy younger man… I had, like the previous three days, noticed him before he reached my door. And like all previous times, I pretended not to notice. “Hey again, Sandy, mind if I get another glass of water?”

Turning to face him, I first smiled my answer and then confirmed it with words. “Of course not, hun. I’m surprised you can’t get into the house.” This was true. He’d been working on the house next door since my husband and I arrived last week for vacation. It was odd that he didn’t have access to the place.


“Ya, I know. My guess is that the guy thinks I’ll steal some shit or something. I guess I’d worry too – it’s not like he pays me a lot.” He laughed, and his casual profanity was more cute than offensive.

“Well, he should pay you more! You’re doing a great job. And you definitely looks like you pay attention to detail.” This was a casual comment, but he seemed to take it as an invitation. I watched as his eyes travel up and down my body.

“I do, Sandy, I really do. Like I’ve noticed that your husband leaves every morning at 8:30 and doesn’t come home until after 5.”

I was unnerved by this comment. “You’ve noticed that?”

“Yes, I have. And it isn’t even the most interesting thing that I’ve seen.” Again, I watched as his eyes slowly travelled up and down my body.

I tried to take control of the conversation. “Really? Have you noticed that I’m twice your age?”

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“I’m not interested in your age.”

I couldn’t ask the obvious question because it was clear what he was interested in. “Maybe you should go now.”

“I don’t want to, Sandy. Do you want me to leave?”

I wasn’t sure, so I gave him a non-answer. “I’m married.”

“I don’t care.” From his stare, I believed him.

My response was true, but it left an opening. “But I should care.”

He stepped closer and whispered, “You should do what makes you happy.” My heart was racing, but I did not back away.

He reached down, took my hand in his, and whispered again. “Sandy, no one will ever know. Nobody.” With my hand in his, our eyes locked on each other, we shared silence.

“I’m getting back to work. If you want me, leave your door open tomorrow morning after your husband leaves.”


Dinner with my husband was pleasant, but quiet. He asked me what was on my mind, and I confessed to having too many different things going and I didn’t know how to explain just one. “You know I get, hun. I’m just thinking.”

And I was. I was wondering what I should do. Well, I knew what I should do; I just wasn’t sure what I would do. The evening was quiet, we went to bed at our normal time, but I couldn’t sleep.

I kept thinking about him, about his toned body, about his confidence. I liked that he was so tall, and so muscular. His skin looked perfect, even the areas he had tattooed were sensual.

He seemed demanding, and dominant, but was he honest? If I left that door open, would it remain a secret? And what would I regret more? Leaving the door open, or keeping it closed.

I decided to keep it closed. But even then my sleep wasn’t restful.

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