He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his chiseled chest and abs. Next, Ken tugged my blouse over my head and, with an expert swiftness, unhooked my bra. Our passionate kisses led to the rest of our clothes being thrown around in a frenzy. Once we were naked, his eyes swept over me, taking in my hips, thighs, and my Brazilian wax, where his eyes lingered the longest. Then he stared at my breasts.
“You like what you see?” I asked.
“Hell yeah.”
I got on his king-size bed, then lay back on the satin sheets. Ken climbed onto the bed, lowered himself gently beside me, and softly cradled my face in his hands. He snaked his tongue around my left nipple. I grabbed him by the ears and slowly pushed him down to my sopping vagina. I had never thought I’d be in Ken’s bed, getting eaten out. At first, it felt foreign. I had been faithful to Chris for so long that I had forgotten what it felt like to be touch by another man. His long tongue lapped at my pussy. The way he did it felt similar to how Chris pleased me, but what made it different was that Ken used his fingers. He curled his ring and middle fingers and massaged the roof of my treasure. He touched so many spots, and the combination of him eating me and touching me drove me wild. I came hard. I felt guilty, but I relished the release. I lay there twitching and shaking.
Ken went over to his nightstand and got a condom. I watched him roll it on his thick, meaty erection. My heart and my conscience were screaming at me to stop, but my body gave in to my desire. A part of me enjoyed just letting go of that repressed part of myself. In that moment, I wasn’t a wife or a mother. I was free. I gasped when he entered me. I gripped his back as he worked his hips. His dick was the same width and length as my husband’s, but his had an upward curve that touched spots I wasn’t used to feeling. His rhythm was perfect. It wasn’t too slow. It wasn’t too fast. It was exactly what I needed to cum. I moaned. I looked at his face, and my eyes widened. When I looked at Ken, I saw my husband. I cried out, and Ken stopped thrusting.
“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” He looked truly concerned.
“I’m fine . . . I’m just emotional right now. I want this . . . I want you. Don’t stop. I want you to fuck me.”
Once he heard that, he lifted my legs straight up and put them together. He entered me swiftly. Given the angle I was in and the curve in his dick, this felt so good and so deep that I couldn’t help but moan and cum over and over again. I wanted to hate myself. I wanted to feel disgusted, but I didn’t. I had needed this release.
We marathon fucked that night. I hadn’t had sex like that in a long time. When it was over, I was satisfied. I felt beautiful and relaxed. I showered at Ken’s house. Afterward, he drove me back to my car, and I headed home. It was late when I got there. I checked on the kids. They were sound asleep in their beds. Chris slept peacefully as I crawled into bed, feeling guilty. I cried myself to sleep, replaying what I had done. I’d broken my promise to Chris, to myself, and to God with my actions.
The next morning the sound of the shower running woke me up. I stretched and rolled over on my side of the bed to check my alarm clock. Chris showered, got dressed, and left for work before I got up. The sunlight beamed through my bedroom window. I looked out, and it was beautiful outside. The sky was blue, and the sun was shining. No storm clouds or dark skies. It wasn’t how I had imagined the day would look after I cheated on my husband. I didn’t feel like a monster. While I felt horrible, I also felt justified. How many times had I cried to Chris, explaining how I felt? How many clues had I given him?
I took a personal day off from work. I showered, did some laundry, ran some errands, and later made dinner for my family. Nothing bad happened or changed. I realized cheating wasn’t as bad as I had thought it would be, and if I could do it once, I could easily do it again.
* * *
I continued to see Ken as my trainer and lover. The fact that he was so similar to Chris made it easy for me to cheat with him. It got to the point where my conscience didn’t bother me at all.
Eventually, Ken cut me off, though. He explained he wanted to figure things out with the three girls he was juggling on the side. I can’t lie. I was hurt. I had known all along that nothing would come out of our affair and that it wasn’t destined to last forever, but I had felt comfortable having him around. While the sex had been great, Ken had also provided me with everything that I felt was missing from my marriage. He’d given me spontaneity, romance, and passion. My time with Ken had been like living out a fantasy.
We tried to be cordial and professional when we saw each other at the gym, but eventually, I decided to stop training with Ken. Seeing him and not being able to have him sexually felt torturous. While things were somewhat easier after that decision, I still needed someone to motivate me at the gym. Enter Raheem. He constantly flirted with me whenever he saw me working out. He was handsome and in good shape. It started off with us talking about different routines and eventually evolved into us working out together.
“Damn, Karen. You get sexier by the day,” he told me one afternoon.
“Oh, stop flirting. I know you don’t mean that.”
Raheem looked me up and down and licked his lips. “If I’m lying, I’m dying.”
“You’re looking pretty sexy yourself.” I flirted back, admiring his muscular ass and the rest of his well-built frame as I walked around him and checked him out.
He also had a great smile.
“Sexy people like us shouldn’t work out alone. We should work out together,” he told me.
“How would your wife feel about that?” I asked, pointing at his ring finger.
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. If you want, she can hang out with your husband,” he said, taking hold of my ring hand.
I smiled. “I’ll give you my number. Hopefully, you can keep up with me.”
As time passed, our relationship blossomed. We talked about the gym, our passions, careers, and dreams. Raheem worked as a manager for Citibank. He was always dressed to kill and smelled nice and fresh. At home, Chris never noticed the results of my hard work at the gym. He was sexually attracted to me but never complimented me on how slim my legs looked or how toned my arms were getting. That drove me even further away from him. I lost sight of myself by trying to be all things to Chris and to make him happy. It was my turn to take care of things for me and make myself happy.
* * *
“I can’t do this shit,” I yelled out during an intense workout at the gym.
“Come on . . . Good. Focus on me. That’s it!” Raheem yelled.
I grunted. My legs trembled and sweat dripped down my face as I struggled to do the last rep of heavy squats. Somehow I managed to do it.
“Damn!” I groaned as I rested the weights back on the rack.
“See? When you focus on me, you get eight out!”
“I get ate out?” I asked jokingly.
“You got a dirty mind. I meant you get eight reps out. That was a good set.”
It was like sleeping with Ken had unlocked a sexual restriction I had inside of me. My moral compass was lost now, and I didn’t know if I would ever find it again. I was bolder now and wasn’t afraid to be blunt when it came to what I wanted.
“I hate doing squats,” I said.
“Yeah, but they’re working for you. Your ass looks fantastic.”
I eyed his crotch and saw the huge bulge in his spandex compression shorts. I was impressed with what I had seen so far. Raheem noticed.
“You see what you do to me?” he said.
“No, let me see. Are you a grower or a show-er?” I joked.
I hooked my fingers over the elastic waistband of his shorts. I pulled on it and looked inside. I gasped when I saw the length of his dick.
“Holy shit,” I said, blushing and rubbing my ass against his crotch.
Somehow I managed to pull my eyes away from the huge bulge in his spandex shorts. Hundreds of images flooded my mind, each one more perverted than the next.
Raheem wrapped
his arms around me. “I’d love to bend you over right here.”
The deepness of his voice excited me. His voice alone made me moist.
“So, come through. Let’s do this, then.” I flashed him a flirty smile and then walked off.
He caught up to me, with a surprised look on his face. “Really? Are you serious?”
“If you don’t want to . . .”
“No, no, I want to. Hell yeah, I want to. I didn’t think you wanted to.”
“What about your wife?” I asked.
“I’m not going to lie. I’m selfish. I love my wife, but she doesn’t give it to me as much as I want it. What about your husband?”
“Sometimes I need to feel desired. He pleases me, but he doesn’t make me feel beautiful.”
“I don’t have to try to do that, because I already know you’re beautiful.” He was trying his hardest to lay game on me, but he already had me.
We left the gym, got in our cars, and I followed Raheem to the Fairfield Inn in Syosset. He got us a room. I had changed. I didn’t feel guilty anymore. I even had my excuse ready for later.
Raheem opened the door to our room, lifted me up, and carried me to the bed. He laid me down and kicked the door closed. He slowly stripped off my clothes. He kissed me, and it felt so good. I wasn’t bothered by the fact that I was cheating or that it was wrong. I was living in the moment. Raheem planted a trail of soft, sensuous kisses along my thighs before he feasted on my pussy. He wasn’t as talented as Ken or as good as my husband, but I enjoyed it.
Raheem undressed. My eyes grew wide, and my eyebrows went up. I gave him a sultry grin. His penis was very long. Ken’s reminded me of my husband’s, but Raheem’s was different. He had to be at least eleven inches, and he had a huge mushroom head. Chris’s shaft was definitely thicker, but I was anxious to feel Raheem. He retrieved a condom from the wallet in his pants pocket, then rolled it on, and slowly inserted himself inside me. I reached around and grabbed his ass while he stroked me and kissed me at the same time. I loved the passion. He sucked on my neck, licked my nipples, and rubbed his hands all over my body.
This was what I wanted from my husband. I wanted him to desire me the way Raheem desired me. Raheem turned me over on my stomach. When he gently stroked his fingertips down my back, tingles traveled down my spine. I shivered. He entered me from behind. In this position, his length felt even greater. His touch, his strokes, and his kisses sent me over the edge. I came intensely, screaming his name.
When we finished pleasing each other, we left the hotel and went back to our separate homes, our separate lives. I went home and acted like nothing had happened. I even slept with Chris that night. Having sex with both of them that day left me sore, but I was satisfied and slept like a baby.
* * *
The next day, Raheem and I exchanged frequent dirty messages before I met up with him at the gym.
“Hey, sexy!” he said, circling me and licking his lips.
I smiled and cupped a big handful of his crotch. “Hey, yourself,” I said.
Raheem wrapped his arms around me from behind and said, “When can I have you again?”
While I loved the feeling of being desired, if we went further with our friends with benefits, our fuck buddies, or whatever we were going to call our relationship, I wanted it to be more than just sex. I had good dick at home already. Truth be told, Raheem was good, but he couldn’t light a candle to how Chris put it down. I didn’t need Raheem for sex. I wanted him to be everything that Chris was not. Sex was the icing on the cake, but what was most important and what I truly wanted was the compliments and the flirty text messages every day. I wanted public displays of affection, and I wanted to feel like I was still being courted after we had already been intimate.
“I don’t know. I guess that all depends on you,” I said solemnly.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not some desperate housewife looking for a handsome man to fuck her. I want passion. I want to go on dates, to be complimented, to be given flowers and gifts sporadically without it being a special occasion. The whole nine yards.”
Raheem nodded as I continued.
“I know that this may seem like a lot to you or that I may sound high maintenance, but that’s what I need in order for us to continue fucking. If that feels like it’s too much, if you feel like that is something you don’t want to do or like I would be too much of a headache, we can keep working out together and accept that we satisfied our curiosity. We can consider it a sort of one-night stand but leave it at that.”
“Doing those things with you wouldn’t be a chore for me. If anything, the sex is just the icing on the cake.”
“That’s good to hear . . . I need you to understand that I’m not asking you to break up your marriage. I have kids, and I’m not trying to break up mine, either, but I need a relationship like this for my own happiness.”
“Trust me, I get it and I’m up for the challenge.”
It felt good to have Raheem cater to me and fill that void that Chris had left unfilled. He made me feel beautiful and told me so, while Chris made me feel like he saw me as nothing more than the mother of his children. Raheem listened to me intently, while whenever I talked to Chris, he acted as if every word out of my mouth was meaningless gossip. Even though we both understood that our relationship would not grow any further than it already had, Raheem gave me what I needed to feel complete.
* * *
I jumped up in bed, but I didn’t know how I had got there. The last thing I recalled was hanging over the toilet and remembering how my cheating had started. My head was killing me. My eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness of the room.
“Who is Raheem?” Chris asked.
My eyes widened when I heard him say that name.
“Uh . . . he’s my trainer at the gym.”
“When I picked you up off the floor, you kissed me and said, ‘Thanks, Raheem.’ Do you kiss him?”
“Baby, I was drunk. I was delirious. I didn’t know what I was saying or doing. I worked out before I hung out tonight, so I was probably thinking a million different things while I was on the floor.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you kiss him?” he demanded. He had inherited that commanding tone from his father.
“What are you insinuating, Chris?”
“I’m not insinuating anything.”
“Yes you are, and I’m getting fucking tired of it. You keep insinuating that I’m cheating on you. If you’re so paranoid about me sleeping with someone else, maybe you should take me out sometime and do things with me. Maybe when you’re making love to me, you can tell me I’m beautiful, compliment me, and not just bend me over like I’m a fucking ho.”
I sobbed uncontrollably. I didn’t know what came over me. I was more emotional than usual, and my response to him indicated what I truly wanted. My unhappiness was pouring out.
Chris’s eyes softened once he saw me crying. “I’m sorry. Honestly, I’m scared of losing you. I love you. The reason I haven’t taken you out lately is that I’ve been working more than usual in order to save up enough to take us on vacation.”
I searched his expression to see if he was serious. He nodded to confirm his words were genuine.
He went on. “I haven’t been home lately for you and the girls, but I needed to make extra money. I booked us a two-week vacation to Cancún. Pops is coming, and I figured he could watch the girls, to give us time to reconnect with each other. You’ll always be beautiful to me. That’s why I get paranoid that someone would try to take you away from me.”
Chris rarely showed his vulnerability, but it was a side of him I loved. If only he were open and honest with me more often, I would stop my cheating.
“I think the trip is a great idea. We need to get away from everything for a while.”
I needed this trip. I had to work things out with Chris and reignite the flame that had gone out. If this trip worked out, I’d cut off Tyrell and Raheem for good. Chri
s hugged me and kissed my forehead.
“You’re everything to me. I want to make you happy. I’m sorry for accusing you,” he told me.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I patted his arm and kissed him. On the outside, I was smiling, but on the inside, I was crying. I went to sleep in his arms that night, feeling terrible.
Chris
A few evenings later, we were at Lindsey’s house. Pops was watching the kids. Lindsey’s husband, Jeff, was in their massive kitchen, checking on the feast he had prepared. Lindsey, Karen, and I were sitting in the living room, on their giant sectional sofa, watching the Knicks game on their enormous flat-screen. They were cool, but I didn’t like hanging out with them, because at the end of the night, I always went home feeling like a failure.
“So, we’re adding another extension to this house, and we’re thinking about buying a summer home upstate somewhere,” Lindsey said.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Karen said, high-fiving Lindsey.
A moment later Jeff walked out of the kitchen and sat next to Lindsey. He kissed the back of her hand and said, “Yeah, we’re going to add a new office for her and a gym for me.”
Jeff was about six feet three and was in decent shape. He was fair skinned, his hair was styled in twisties, and he had a goatee. He owned a very successful sports bar in Garden City. With their combined incomes, he and Lindsey were a power couple. They didn’t have kids yet, which allowed them to spend most of their free time traveling the world and doing whatever they wanted. I loved my kids, but a part of me missed that feeling of doing what I wanted when I wanted. I missed the freedom that came with not having to worry about bills and family expenses. The truth was, I was envious of them, and so was Karen.
Love and Happiness Page 6
