Long Term Affair Ended
I'm a married woman, on the upper end of the "mature" category. I just ended a 15-year affair with a man who I first met at work. At first we were just Platonic work friends, for a couple of years actually, although I will admit to feeling a degree of attraction to him. We'd chat briefly and sometimgiries toss a few slightly off-color jokes at each other when he'd stop at my reception desk on the way to somewhere else several times per week, but it ever went further than that, nor did I ever think it would. We were both married, & seemed to respect each others boundaries.
One day, he invited me to have lunch with him, and during it, a spark seemed to ignite between us, a bright one. After it was over, he asked if he could kiss me, and I said yes, but when he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek, I surprised the both of us by turning my head at the last second & kissing him on the mouth instead. The kiss was relatively brief & closed mouthed, but nonetheless electric. To make a long story short, by one Saturday afternoon two weeks later, I found myself laying on the carpeted floor of his office with him, the both of us naked, and he was between my thighs as I practically begged him to "Put it in me now!" Yes, those were my exact words, & to this day I still blush when I remember I actually so unncharacteristically said them to him. Needless to say, he did, and the rest is history, as they say. The bright spark had rapidly turned into a roaring inferno. Our affair began, and then it continued for nearly 15 years.
After that first time, we saw each other every chance we could, & we fucked whenever we manage to arrange a little time alone together. Gradually, his Dominant tendencies came to the fore, & seemed to trigger my own, until then, latent submissive ones. Over time, he had me do things with him, to him, and for him that I'd never done before, not even with my husband, sexual things, & I did them willingly, eagerly, lustfully. I let him use my body and all of my holes however he wanted, whenever he wanted and wherever we could do so with some semblance of safety. We had sex in his SUV, in his office after normal work hours and on weekends when the offices were largely deserted. He forbade me from wearing pants or slacks, only skirts or dresses were allowed. Pantyhose were off limits as well. If my legs were to be covered, it had to be only with sheer thigh-high stockings under my dress or skirt. He started taking me out to dinner after work, and would have me remove my bra & panties during it, so he could touch & finger me intimately right there in the booth with other diners all around us, & I'd get so wet that I could hardly wait for us to get somewhere else so he could fuck me properly.
In time, he began to rent hotel rooms for our rendezvous, & the sex there got even hotter. When his wife wasn't home, we'd even meet at his house and he'd pound me into the mattress of his marital bed. I'd always be completely naked within a few short minutes after the door to our room or his home closed behind us. Sometimes he'd have me strip and dance naked for him, often positioned so my sensuous gyrations were visible from the street outside thru the window. He'd spank me hard, & not just on my rear, he'd tie me to the bed, tease and arouse me greatly with his fingers, his mouth or sex toys. A collar, cuffs, nipple & pussy clamps, leather belts, & other such devices became a regular part of our foreplay. He called the intimate parts of my body by their vulgar names, rather than their more socially accepted ones... not vagina or even pussy, but c**t... not breasts but tits... not behind or rear, but ass, and he had me always refer to them by those same vulgar words. And then he'd ravage me hard, calling me his slut or his whore, and I loved the feelings of helplessness & total surrender to his will & his every desire, no matter how perveted it might seem to society at large. I'd cum explosively for him, leaving me limp, exhausted, & well satisfied. On more than one occasion he sent me to my husband afterward pantiless under my skirt or dress, and still dripping with his cum. I felt like I couldn't get enough of him, or his hard cock.
Over time, his domination of me became harder, & I willingly did things for him that, in retrospect, I'm not proud of. I won't go into the details of that here, but some of them would probably have made a professional sex worker blush. At times, he even used to tell me that he was going to bring one or more of his friends to our next "date," so they could also use my body for their pleasure however they wished. Although I never responded that I'd be willing to do that for him, I never overtly rejected the idea either. Whenever he brought it up, I'd just let it sit there like the elephant in the room. He never wound up actually doing it, but if he'd have pushed me on the issue, I'm fairly certain I would have done that for him too.
Our relationship was as hot as a raging bonfire for a very long time, but towards the latter part of it, I began to feel like he no longer appreciated me like he once did, and the bright, burning spark I'd felt for him for so long began to fade. So after about a year or so in which that trend continued, I ended it. Now my only significant relationship with another male is with my husband, who has significant ED ussues that can't be remedied by a pill or other means, & my sex life is limited to visits from my own fingers.
Will I take another lover in his place? Likely not, although I suppose it's possible if I met the right man. My body is older now and not what it once was. In truth, I'm somewhat ashamed of it. I still feel strong cravings that are not being fulfilled, even though I try hard to push them from my mind. Do I ever think of my former lover? Of course I do. Will I ever get back together with him and try to rekindle what we once had together? I seriously doubt it, but I've always believed in never say never, so I guess it would be remotely possible under the right circumstances. He's a widow now, so we wouldn't have to hide our activities from his wife any more, but I still have my own marriage to worry about, & I would, even as unfulfilling as it is, not only sexually, but in other ways as well.
It still amazes me how extremely lucky we were to have been able to carry on such a steamy long term affair without it ever being discovered by my spouse. He's a very intelligent man, actually a professional with his own private practice, but as far as I know, he never even seriously suspected what was going on behind his back... & between his wife's thighs. Would that luck be able to hold out if we rekindled our affair? I'm not sure. When I ask myself if I'd still be willing to to risk my marriage for the promise of potentialy renewed sexual pleasure, one voice in my head says, "Forget about it, J***, be satisfied with your memories," while another says, "Go for it!" Sitting here in the middle between them, all I can honestly answer is... maybe.
