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The Love Of My Life, A Tender Offer

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“Mum you promised you’d come and watch the hockey match after school on Thursday.”

“I know darling but I just can’t get out of this meeting.”

The feeling as his magnificently hardened cock sunk into me not only took my breath away but also took my mind off everything else.

“There’s some cold chicken in the fridge and loads of salad you can have for dinner.” I said to my husband from the hallway where I was giving my hair and make-up one last inspection. “By the way don’t wait up I might be late, school reunions can go on a bit.” I added scooting out of the house.

I knew that I shouldn’t let him do it in the car parked in a field in the semi-darkness. But the feel of his hand slithering up my thigh that, unconsciously, almost, I opened for him was so thrilling that nothing outside of him, me and our bodies had any significance.

Affairs are like that.

The guilt and the loss of self esteem at the excuses I had to make to my daughter and husband were horrible to bear. The thrills and excitement I got from my lover, though, made up for that and more.

They’re rarely completely satisfactory. They can’t be really can they? By their very nature it’s almost impossible? They’re elicit, naughty, often unfair and usually extremely difficult for all involved. They’re relationships that are outside a marriage or other relationships. They’re liaisons and the coming together by two parties who shouldn’t really come together at all!

Mine was all of that and more. It was everything most people expect an affair to be. Exhilarating, stupendous, amazing, fantastic and mind-blowing. It was disappointing, heart-breaking, horrible, frustrating and thoroughly emotionally draining. I had the most amazing sensations, incredible sex, powerful feelings of love and lust intermingling and lots and lots of affection. I had to lie and cheat, duck and dive and be a different person as circumstances changed. I felt tremendous frustration when I couldn’t be with him and enormous jealousy when I imagined him in bed with his wife. I hated us getting up from hotel beds and going home when every sinew in my body cried out for us to stay there together all night, if not forever. And as the affair got underway I could hardly bear to be in bed with my husband let alone have him make love to me.

Did I enjoy it? Am I pleased I did it? Would I do it again? Was it worthwhile? Hmmmm tough questions to which I don’t really have answers? All I know was that during the almost year to the day that I knew David I felt more wanted than I ever had or ever have since. I felt loved and desired and more of a woman than I could have previously imagined. He so fulfilled my every need during the time we were having the affair that I think, in all probability, he was the love of my life as I was of his.

I’d been with Kevin, my now very much ex husband, for around ten years when it happened. We were together for another four or so after it. For all the time prior to that I would never have dreamed that I would have an affair. I was the devoted, doting wife. I was love-blind. There was no doubt in my mind that Kevin and I would spend the rest of our life together with our daughter and that we might, as time went on, add to our family. That’s why, when I had very strong reasons to believe he’d had an affair I was devastated. But I shrugged it off. That is until the next time when we had the most amazing rows and parted for a while. He persuaded me to let him back though. And that wasn’t too hard for I still felt I loved him and I was so scared of being alone and sending our daughter’s father away from her. When I suspected he was “at it” again and again, my views and standards I suppose dropped. I lost faith in and respect for him. My love went out the window although there were times when his charm and charisma still got to me and with those characteristics he was able to get my knickers off and persuade me to have sex with him. That though reduced in frequency rather rapidly after I met David.

“They seem to get on so well, it’s as if they’d known each other for ages isn’t it?” The attractive forty something guy in the bright yellow rain top and jeans said.

“Yes it is and that’s strange for Brad doesn’t usually get friendly with other dogs smaller than him,” I replied returning his smile.

And that’s how it started. That’s how the love affair of my life began. Walking our dogs for Christ’s sake.

There was a group of us, probably seven or eight that met in the large field that ran alongside the forest that was just a short drive from my house. Sometimes, especially in the better weather we all turned up and walked together but at other times there might just be a couple of us and on occasions just two or even me by myself. We were quite a mixed bunch with ages ranging from me, probably the youngest, in my early thirties, to a pair of really lovely older ladies who must have been well into their seventies or eighties. The gender mix was mainly women with a couple of older canlı bahis guys and David.

Yes David, in the yellow rain top and jeans. David who said “they get on well don’t they” as the first words we ever exchanged? David with the lovely smile and twinkling eyes. David the man I fell for. And David the man that fucked me in those very woods where the two dogs had got on very well!!!

But I get ahead of myself. I let my reminiscences become too vivid. My thoughts about David and me writhing naked in beds in hotels, squirming together on the back seat of his or my car or making love so magically in the open air, are starting to direct and control the flow of the story. And that mustn’t happen for this account needs to have a mood, pace and style all of its own. This isn’t a piece of fuck fest. It isn’t a quick jerk off story. I’m not writing this purely for sexual titillation. No this is real, this is part of my life, a major and important part of me. I feel the need to tell the story. The story of David and me. The tender, loving, erotic and so sexual tale of our affair. And for me to relate that to you takes time. I will need to paint pictures with words. To describe the situation and to build the suspense up for you just as the impending affair built it up for him and me.

And that in some ways was the most amazing aspect of the affair. That period between the merest tingle of the thought, “does he want me and do I want him” and his magnificently hardened cock sliding almost ceremoniously up me? That and the realisation that as I gave myself to him so all my marriage vows were being ripped into tatters. Everything I thought I’d believed in about the sanctity of marriage, the trust and the loyalty was slipping away just as easily as my knickers slid down my legs to give my lover access to me.

From the time he said about the dogs getting on well we became walking partners. We walked alongside each other. In dog walking etiquette, and believe there is one, we became a walking pair. Our dogs got on well and that’s important. I mean you can’t walk with someone when your dogs hate each other can you? We tended to fall behind the others. After a while we started getting there a little later so that the others had set off. And then we began walking just the two of us. Just him and me. Just David and me.

I found myself dabbing on a little extra make up, spraying perfume or brushing my shoulder-length, chestnut hair more carefully than I’d ever done before a dog walk. I discarded the baggy old jeans and wore, tighter, smarter designer versions. In the cold of winter I’d wear a nicer top coat and in the warmth of spring and summer, tighter more revealing tops or sweaters. All of this was unconscious and went on for several months. But then bear in mind it was just a half hour dog walk five days a week. Two and half hours of exposure to each other often in the company of others and always in the open air with our dogs around. Not that conducive to chat up lines, flirting and come on suggestions. But somehow it worked and just six months after he said, “they seem to get on so well,” so he was saying to me. “Mandy that was amazing,” as he let his now limp penis slip from my still wet and throbbing pussy.”

Again though I get ahead of myself. But that’s so easy to do in my eagerness to tell you about my affair with David. But why am I so keen to do that? Why do I want to reveal my innermost thoughts and most intimate feelings? I know why. It’s because I want to relive that year. Because I want to revisit those magically sexy times, those enticingly erotic moments, that wonderfully romantic period. Yes I want him back in my new life. The one you and I share. The one that only exists in words not actions and deeds. Yes I need and want David to fuck me with my words as I’ve been doing in all those submissions I’ve made to Lit. Does that make sense to you? It’s absolutely crystal to me.

It was just a coffee. A fairly rotten instant one at that in a tatty café on the edge of the forest. But that was the real start. The beginning. That established something between us other than dog walking.

“Black no sugar,” were the first words I said to him as more than a dog walking friend.

I don’t remember at all what we chatted about as we sat across from each other in the open air. I remember it was springtime and yes the trees were in bud, the daffodils were just ending, the tulips beginning and all the falsely romantic things that are said about springtime were around us. Including the “young man’s” fancy I wonder??

We had coffee again a day or so later and it then became a regular feature of our walk. And it was very much our walk now for we went out of our ways to positively avoid the others. We went later, met at a slightly different place and walked another route. None of that was consciously planned, we didn’t discuss it but like so many things between us, it just happened because, I suppose, we both wanted it to happen.

Still nothing was said bahis siteleri and certainly nothing was done by either of us to suggest what we were doing was anything other than two adults walking and chatting. Deep down, though, I think I felt something. I feel that I was becoming aware that the more I was with him the more I wanted to be with him. I couldn’t in my wildest imaginings think that anything other than a friendship would happen between us. He was seemingly fairly happily married with three children and I had never been one to even consider straying. Kevin and I had our ten year old daughter and, although we’d had some rocky patches, neither of us would dream of doing anything that could harm her.

So I mused April away looking forward to and enjoying my dog walks that by now were becoming longer and longer. David had explained that he mainly worked from home doing something with computers, that I didn’t even try to understand, his wife held a fairly high powered job in the Civil Service and their children were at boarding school so his time was very much his own.

“In any case, I prefer working in the evenings and late at night, it gets the juices running and I’m more creative.” He’d said, to which I’d quite innocently replied.

“Really,” as I smiled at him and, for some reason, raised my eyebrows as I added. “That’s when mine flow the most.”

We both laughed at the unintentional but quite strongly provocative double entendre.

“I bet they do the lucky man,” he joked before we changed the subject.

The hard, throbbing cock felt so marvellous in my mouth. The large, soft, slightly hairy bag containing his balls felt as exciting in my hands as I rolled the two orbs around before sucking first one, then the other and then both into my mouth. My imagination was racing as my hands squeezed my full breasts, pinched and pulled my nipples and then plunged between my thighs that closed tightly round them.

Lying in the middle of our marital bed naked I was fucking myself. Making love to my own body in the middle of the day. The window was open and I could hear the noise of the mower as Tom our gardener did the lawn. I was masturbating more frequently recently. As Kevin and I rowed more often so our lovemaking diminished. I found it difficult and very frustrating to take after having had regular, nearly daily, sex for so long.

My crimson painted fingernails contrasted sharply with the creamy, suntanned as it was early in the year, flesh of my breasts as they dug into it leaving little red marks. The pink of my nipples looked fierce and appealingly suckable as I pulled and pinched them alternating between sending surges of sexual feelings and shocks of pain through my body.

I was near. Very near. I was at that stage where the eyes are tightly shut, the mouth is open and the head is starting to roll from side to side. At the phase where arousing the breasts is not enough. At the point where the epicentre of a woman’s sex has to be stimulated. I had reached the level that demanded total sexual gratification. Yes I was in that state of female masturbation where my hands had only one place on which to focus, one area to coax that little more I needed to take me over the edge. I was concentrating, zeroing in and focusing my fingers attention on the place they had to be. Right on my cunt.

And as they stroked and slithered around my lips, slid inside and then rubbed around my clitoris I started to cum. To cum hard and long. As my straightened fingers plundered my innards plunging in and out of that tingling tunnel as I fucked myself so David’s face came into my mind. In my imagination I was being fucked by my dog walking friend.

“Would you like to see it?” David asked one morning when we sitting in the outside café sipping our coffee.

“Yes I would but I don’t think I’ll understand it.”

David had been trying to explain to me what he did but being IT almost illiterate I couldn’t grasp the concept of the worldwide web as he termed it. It was equally impossible for me to understand what websites and dotcom companies, neither of which I’d heard of, could possibly be. But this was 1999!

I felt very strange actually being in his house. It was odd seeing photos and other examples of his day to day life. His wife’s and children’s coats hanging up, pairs of green wellies in a box in the porch, two mugs on the draining board that presumably he and his wife had used for breakfast. We stood in the kitchen as he made coffee, proper stuff in a cafettiere, EDITED

There was a tension between us that I’d never experienced before. We were, I realised, totally alone for the first time. Always we’d been in the open with others nearby or around. Here it was just him and I. Just the two of us. Nobody else. I felt nervous, ill at ease and a little edgy. The conversation had dried up. He focused on making the coffee as I looked through the kitchen windows at the fairly large garden that I suddenly imagined him and his wife working on bahis şirketleri together on a Sunday morning. My throat was dry and my pulse seemed to be racing. I still hadn’t given any thought whatsoever to where our relationship was going or, even, if it was going anywhere. The only time there was anything other than a perfectly respectable dog walking partnership was when I was naked masturbating. And then I have to admit that more and more David was a feature in my lurid imaginings.

For most of my married life, and really that coincides with the greater part of my adult life, masturbation has played little part. Since meeting Kevin when I was just over eighteen and starting to live with him when I was in my early twenties other than when he went away on business trips we must have had sex most days and certainly at least three times every week. Thus, when the supply was turned off, more I have to say by me than him, it’s hard to take. And in a thirty two year old, as my memory suggests I was then, it’s particularly difficult and I found that after say, five or six days without sex I suffered from enormous pangs of frustration. I was on edge and prickly a lot of the time, would lose my temper easily and found it hard to focus and concentrate on anything for long. The DT crossword, for instance, became an impossibility!

On top of all that I would, without any warning, become enormously aroused. I’d find an irritation starting near my pussy that within seconds had stormed through my body making my breasts seem so heavy and my nipples become like organ stops. I would almost pant and have what in other circumstances with older women would be called a hot flush. I’d see a fanciable man, a pert bum or a good looking face and I was mentally in bed with them. I could see sexual innuendos and suggestions in the most ridiculous things and I walked around like I imagine a bitch in heat does. Permanently, almost, aroused and hot.

Inevitably that led to me reverting to, what I thought of then as, the teenagers remedy. Doing it myself to myself. Yes making love to my own body in effect fucking myself. I adopted a sort of ritual for it that included, usually, picturing a scene in my head that involved me indulging in one of my fantasies. At the time I recall those as me being in a gang bang, being forced to have sex and lots of lesbian action. But more and more, although I swear it was totally unintentional, David featured somewhere in my masturbation. Often not until I was near or actually cumming but then with increasing frequency, I extremely vividly “saw” him to the point that on several occasions as the waves of orgasmic release poured over me I found myself saying out loud.

“Yes, yes David, fuck me, fuck me make me cum hard for you.”

I was almost blushing at these thoughts as David said.

“Black as usual Mandy?”

“Er, um, er, yes, yes thanks David,” I replied taking the elegantly thin white mug he was handing to me.

“Come on I’ll show the wonderful world of the Internet,” he said, putting his arm round me loosely, urging me through the kitchen door before him. “Up the stairs to the right,” he added gently pushing me, the feel of his hand in the small of my back making me slightly shudder.

As I walked up the stairs ahead of him I was acutely conscious of his eyes being on my bum. I was wearing, probably rather too, tight jeans and I knew that my bottom and hips swayed quite a lot and I wondered what he was thinking. “Did I,” I thought, “exaggerate the movements?”

We walked along a landing passing what I assumed were bedroom doors but each were closed. I guessed there’d been an extension to the house at some time and that the upstairs part of that had been turned into his office. It was quite cramped with the desk and filing cabinets, a bit messy with piles of papers everywhere and at least four computer screens, a printer and other IT equipment.

He sat down at a keyboard and a screen lit up. He messed around with the keys as I stood beside him my hand resting on the back of his chair. His head was bent as he concentrated on typing some gobbledegook language that he later told me was DOS, what ever the hell that was? I could see his surprisingly long neck with his hair over the collar of the thickish denim shirt and for a mad moment I wanted to reach out and run my fingers through it.

I tried to take in what he was telling me about this new technology that now he mentioned it did ring bells for I recalled reading about and watching something on TV. It was all a bit difficult though and despite me feigning interest I think he soon realised it didn’t really do me that much for me.

Turning and looking up at me and flashing one of his lovely smiles he said. “Well you just remember in a few years when this is changing your life where you saw it first.”

“Yes sir,” I replied jokingly my hand accidentally touching his shoulder as he turned.

I moved it away as he stood up alongside me. We were close, very close, too close I suppose for two people forging a normal relationship. So close that my breasts were almost touching his chest and I could smell his aftershave that, guiltily I worked out, was Eternity, the same as my husband often wore.

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