Faithfully Unfaithful

by Secret Narrative

  Taking the pitcher and glasses out onto the patio where I’d directed him, I found him standing, staring at the garden daydreaming.

  “Penny for them,” I said.

  I know it wasn’t terribly original, but it seemed appropriate at the time.

  “Oh, I was just wondering what it’d be like to fuck you,” he replied, quite unashamedly.

  I must say that I was somewhat taken aback, I honestly didn’t have a clue what he was going to say because there hadn’t been an underlying atmosphere; nevertheless, it was the answer I’d hoped for.

  “How lovely,” I said, “because I was considering the same about you. Would you like to come upstairs?”

  Of course, he would.

  My darling, I thought his massive body would break our lovely bed.

  I swiftly stripped. Naked, I opened his fly and without further preamble, rolled on a condom (one of yours, darling) and lowered myself onto his cock. I actually couldn’t be arsed with foreplay, I simply felt like a fuck, and I knew he did too.

  His cock was small, and his stomach was monumental, but he was very hard, so I rode him, bouncing away on top of him until he filled the rubber. I carefully lifted myself off, but the condom came away with me, spilling his seed all over our sheets, I didn’t wash them, darling; I knew you’d enjoy sleeping in dirty bed linen, so I left them for a few days.

  Malcolm and I won’t repeat our little session; I could tell that he felt instantly guilty about Maureen as soon as he’d had his orgasm, (!) He couldn’t get out of the house quick enough, the wheels of his precious car messing up the gravel as he exited our drive. I must say that it’s a wonder the suspension hasn’t given way.

  Silly sod.

  Still, I’ll bet he fantasises about me every time he sweats his way to orgasm with Maureen.

  And it’s another little story to add to our ever-growing collection.

  It’s so liberating that you delight in my infidelity.

  Monday 21st March

  Sweetheart... I know I’m a fair bit younger than you, darling, but I honestly love you.

  Most of the time I carry on as I do because I know it pleases you.

  With springtime just around the corner, I thought I’d ring the chimney sweep, what do you think, darling? I know he’s incredibly old, probably older than we two put together! His hands never look clean, well they wouldn’t, would they? Imagine how the ingrained coal dust on his gnarled old hands would look like against the porcelain of my skin. I’d invite him in, let him sweep the chimney first, it needs doing, so I would be practical, darling. He brings his own clean sheets, lays them over our furniture to protect it, and gets on with the job.

  Most of the time he simply uses that vacuum thingy, but I do love it when he pushes the brush all they way to the top and out of the opening, I always think of that song ‘good luck will rub off...’

  I’m sure it will be good luck for us. I’d wait until he’s packing his things away, but before he removes the sheets, he’s personable and always has a twinkle in his eye. I know he fancies me, I’ve seen the signs. I can see him trying to decide whether I’d be up for it. No doubt, he’s heard the gossip in the village. O yes! My darling, I know they talk about me, why not? I expect that many villagers feel sorry for you, living with a whore, not realising that to all intents and purposes, it is you who feeds my behaviour.

  I digress… Let’s get back to my story about the sweep. I would give him a little peek of what he can expect, I’d put on that dainty dress you like, the one which barely covers my arse, the pretty print with sweet sleeves. I’d be naked underneath and barefoot, making sure I bent down in front of him, exposing my shaven cunt from behind, displaying my rich red lips beneath my smooth, round bottom.

  “I’m too old for you.” Would be his only words ahead of pushing me face down onto our sheet covered sofa, dropping his trousers and wanking his flaccid cock over my arse cheeks.

  I’d steal peeks over my shoulder, watching him masturbate until he achieves a semi-hard whilst rubbing my arse and fingering my cunt. After what will seem like an eternity, he’ll stop and tuck his cock back into his pants.

  “Thank you, my dear, you look darned pretty. I’m sorry I can’t get properly erect now, but I still enjoyed it. I’ll send your husband my bill,” he’ll say, looking at my little dress.

  Stowing the sheets into his bag, he’ll see himself out.

  Afterwards, I’d lie on our sofa, spread my legs wide into their natural position, I’m sure they’ll have to bury me in a vee shaped coffin my love! I’d toy with my cunt, stroking my soft shaven outer lips and dip in for a feel of the silky inner lips, tweaking my clit, fingering my hole while anticipating your homecoming and a share in my latest anecdote.

  Your pleasure is my pleasure, my own tender, darling.

  Thursday 31st March

  My Dear Husband... Naturally, I’m not unfaithful to you only with men.

  You know I attend the gym regularly. I enjoy all the classes and love having a swim before I leave. Last time I went, do you remember I came home to find you already here, having come back early from work. I think you do it on purpose in the hope that you’ll catch me having sex, surprisingly, so far, you never have, have you?

  Anyway, that day I’d been to my class and had a welcome swim afterward.

  I’d just gone into the changing rooms and stripped off my wet costume, you know how I hate the smell of chlorine; it’s one of the things I detest about the pool, I always shampoo it off immediately. I normally use a cubicle and close the door, but the place was deserted so I didn’t bother, preferring the spacious communal shower area where the water is constantly running. I left my costume pooled at my feet while I washed.

  Having soaped my body, I heard the main door to the changing room open and close, and turned around to see one of the aerobics instructors. She’s supremely fit, in every sense of the word. There is hardly a spare ounce of flesh on her body, quite a contrast to Malcolm I can tell you that my dear. In spite of her slim frame, she has lovely breasts, largish, but perfectly shaped. I’m quite envious if I’m honest. Sometimes I think mine are too large, I know that as I get older, gravity will do things to me that will be most unkind, unless I get them fixed.

  Back to the present, or in this case, the recent past.

  She crossed the room nodded briefly in acknowledgement before slipping effortlessly out of her costume and ducking under the cascading water. Having caught me staring, she said hello and asked to borrow my body wash. I think my jaw must have dropped open; I know I was gazing at the golden triangle between her legs as if mesmerised because it is imprinted on my memory like a brand.

  “Do you like pussy?” she said.

  A heartbeat passed.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “So do I. Shall we take them in there?” She pointed to one of the small cubicles.

  “Yes,” I said again. Honestly, darling, I think the cat had taken my tongue.

  Obviously, we weren’t so blatant that we wanted to risk discovery, so we slipped into the cubicle she selected.

  “You first. Sit down and part your legs.”

  I did so, perching on the hard wooden bench, the uncomfortable seating quite painful beneath the tender skin of my arse.

  I opened my legs.

  The feeling of liberation as the air reached my exposed slit was glorious, I felt as if I’d died and gone to heaven.

  That splendid woman got onto her knees between mine and buried her lovely face into my cunt. She licked and fingered me to a fantastic orgasm, which as you know, darling, isn’t easy.

  Of course, I returned the favour, we swapped places, and I licked her fragrant little cunt, bringing her off twice, while she stroked my head, hardly making a sound. I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right, but I felt her trembling softly beneath my tongue and fingers, so I kept going until she pulled away from me slightly in a clear signal to stop.

  We went
back into the shower area afterward to finish washing, and after dressing, we swapped numbers and parted. I will see her again, darling, I rather like her. I’m sorry that you won’t be able to join in, but you enjoy mystery, and in any case, she’s a lesbian, so she won’t be game for a threesome.

  I’m quite looking forward to seeing her again. There’s something about having another woman eating at my cunt, just she and I, which is quite sublime. I’m sure you understand, darling, and I rather think my phone will melt from the heat generated by hot, sexy texts that you and I will read avidly together.

  Friday 1st April

  Dearest, it is afternoon as I write so ‘April Fool’ doesn’t apply...

  I’m not sure if you’ve ever wanted to have sex with a man. Many people believe that every human being is bisexual; we know I am, but I’m not sure about you. Maybe it’s different because penetration is involved, maybe it’s not the same, or maybe you don’t fancy a man fucking you? I know you enjoy the strap-on when I use it on you, darling, do you remember the last time?

  Imagine what it would be like if you went onto the common and did what many of the men we know do for amusement!

  I’d follow you at a safe distance, recording your every move on camera for replay to our hearts’ content.

  Perhaps you could go ‘cruising’ amongst the trees, curious to see what is going on, perhaps you’ll find two men sitting in the undergrowth, one of them slowly rubbing his small cock. You’ll ask if he needs any assistance and wasting no time, dropping your trousers, you crouch, masturbating him whilst he fingers your arse.

  Taking his cock into your mouth, you give him a blowjob, while he continues his ministrations until you are so horny, you actually beg him to sodomise you. He indicates that he wants you doggy and silently fucks you; I’m shocked watching because you seem to enjoy having his cock inside your arse. After what seems like an extraordinarily short time he comes inside you, simultaneously you ejaculate, I watch the semen fire out of you redundant onto the forest floor, and as he pulls out I see his cum running out of your arse.

  And it’s so much better than my wildest fantasies.

  I carry on filming even though I am desperate to come too.

  As you recover, the other man shows you his erection, slowly stroking his cock, I’m amazed to see you raise yourself up again into doggy position and invite entry; he comes after a few swift thrusts, partially inside you, spraying the rest over your arse. I film that too, my hands shaking with lust.

  You discover that as well as being a cuckold you also rather like a man arse fucking you.

  I don’t mind, darling, as long as you’re happy, I’m happy.

  Maybe we should actually try it one day.

  Tuesday 26th April

  My Love... Should we go on holiday again soon? Do you remember the last time, darling? I know I shouldn’t have left you to go sightseeing alone, but I felt so unwell, I suppose it may have been jet lag but never having had it, I can’t be sure. They were so kind to me at the hotel dearest. Did I tell you about them?

  After you’d left for the day, I had a lovely sleep. Genuinely quite pleased not to be taking the coach; I’d had enough of travelling for a while. I know you mean well, darling, but sometimes I question your need to fill every waking hour with endless activity. I felt somewhat refreshed when I woke up, so I called down and asked them to send me a masseuse. I know you don’t mind my spending your money, darling, and anyway, it was a steal, so very cheap. Unbelievable! Though I wasn’t to know it when I booked, my masseuse was male.

  I’m sure you’re delighted that I’m telling you now, although I suspect you knew that something had gone on in your absence because you came back to find me sprawled on our bed glowing and spent. Surely you didn’t put my languid mood down to jet lag, darling?

  He turned up! An Adonis! I was captivated. He ushered me to the long bench-like seats on the veranda, under the shade of those enormous kite shaped parasol type things, I can never remember what they’re called, but they were so vast they sheltered the whole area of our terrace.

  He laid me face down on the soft sheets and went to work on my body, my darling; I do wish you could massage me that way. Superb! He started with my back and shoulders...

  ***

  I had to stop writing for a while, putting down the words made me feel so horny, I needed to slip my fingers into my panties and bring myself to a rapid but satisfying orgasm. I’ll return to the day of the masseuse later. While fingering myself, my mind worked overtime, I remembered so many things that I want to tell you, I’m not quite sure which part of my colourful and varied sex life to share with you next.

  It occurs to me that I might be a sex addict, but you don’t mind do you, darling? After all, I’m in excellent company. When I think about all the famous men who have come out as sex addicts, I don’t feel so guilty; nevertheless, I can’t think of a high profile actress who has admitted the same addiction, alcohol and drugs yes – sex – no! Isn’t it strange, darling, that admission to drug and drink addiction is seemingly more acceptable than an addiction to sex, especially for women? Yet again, I digress, where was I? O yes, with the masseuse, later, darling, later.

  As the flush of orgasm left my body, I remembered about the time I picked up a complete stranger at work. Do you remember him? I simply cannot, for the life of me, remember his name, no matter how long I wrack my brains (maybe they’ve been fucked out of my head, darling) I cannot remember anything except what we did that afternoon.

  I invited him back for the ubiquitous and euphemistic coffee. As soon as I got him inside the front door, I dropped to my knees, freed his cock from his trousers, and gave him a blowjob whilst still in the hallway. He ejaculated into my mouth extremely swiftly, after which I led him into the lounge, sat on the sofa, spread my legs, pulled my panties to one side, and said.

  “My turn now.”

  He obliged a bit grudgingly I thought. I discovered that he was well up for being serviced by me, but wasn’t much interested in returning the favour. Still, we had a prolonged session that afternoon before I kicked him out because I wanted an early night. As you know, darling, I simply must have my beauty sleep, how else would I keep you and all the others interested?

  Talking of which, I must stop now, I’ll write again soon.

  Thursday 12th May

  My Darling, Husband... I was thinking about that time you mentioned when you were in your teens and feeling pissed off went to the cinema, which you told me was almost empty. You sat at the back, looking forward to watching the film when all of a sudden an old man sat next to you, placing his raincoat across his lap.

  You told me that you felt scared but continued to watch the film, after a little while his hand landed on your knee, he had unzipped his fly, inviting you to play with his cock, which you did, and enjoyed it (much to your surprise). Your cock hardened, and he whispered to you to follow him out, but you didn’t go that far, being afraid of what he might want to do, but I know that you gave yourself a fabulous wank later that night while fingering your arsehole.

  Maybe you wanted his cock inside you, darling?

  ***

  You know that I’m always in need of a decent, hard fuck, and although I look classy and respectable to most people, you and I know that I’m truly a filthy slut who wants nothing more than at least one hard cock inside me to satisfy my needs. You also know that I have a thing about strangers and how fond I am of being fucked by people I’ve never met before. It could be anywhere while out walking, during an evening out, on the train while on holiday with the help, you know me, darling. Anyone, anywhere and virtually any time!

  I like fantasising about the car breaking down along a deserted country road, on a perfect hot day in summer, no mobile signal, no houses for miles (just like a film) in the middle of nowhere and utterly alone.

  In my fantasy, I get out to see if there’s anything I can do when I hear a car approaching. I wave it down. The vehicle
slows, and I see a man on his own; he pulls his car in behind mine, gets out and asks me to open the bonnet, while I’m bending over to reach for the lever, I hear him behind me.

  “You’re a tasty looking piece,” he says.

  I lift up the bonnet and fix it open, the heat from the engine rises to meet my face, the heat in my cunt trickling onto my thighs.

  The oily smell assails my nostrils mixing with the musky aroma of my cunt, which fills the muggy air around me.

  I know that I should feel threatened, and even in my daydream, I know I should try to move away, but the slut in me stays put, rooted to the spot, awaiting the action that’s sure to follow his words.

  As expected, he runs his hands up my bare legs, I part them, aiding his progress, and his fingers reach my panties. I feel him move the lacy morsel to one side, he slips his fingers into me, I remain still, keeping my balance, my hands on the edge of the engine casing, while he's pressing on the inner wall of my cunt with at least two fingers, perspiration drips from my forehead and sizzles. Eventually, and much to my delight, he moves from my cunt to my arse, lightly resting a digit against my puckered hole, and bending, probes my arse with his tongue while his fingers move back to my cunt; I am so wet, he’s drenched with my juices.

  He pulls away and lunges me forward, pushing my head further beneath the open bonnet, the residual heat from the engine rising to meet my face again, matching the heat in my cunt. I feel his cock hard against me for an appetising millisecond before he enters my tight arsehole. It hurts, and I cry out but he ignores me, savagely buggering me, and I love it, basking in the pain ripping through me.

  Suddenly he pulls out, roughly turning me to face him.