I dropped by the Action Sports offices to bring Dave’s lunch to him and get to meet some people in the office. I met the boss, Marcel, plus Gary, Wilson, Tyrell, Mike, Amy, and Tiffany. When I left, I wrote down their names to help me remember them. New job, new fellow workers, names I had to remember.

Marcel was the most striking black man I’d ever met and had the perfect build to own a sporting goods company. Dave told me he was a national-class college swimmer, and he looked like it. He wasn’t an Olympic-level swimmer, but he looked like he could have been. All the people there were in fairly good shape, including my Dave. 

They had a monthly meeting at the end of work once a month that the spouses were invited to. They reviewed that month's sales, but it was mostly a social hour for everyone to get to know each other.

It was at the fourth meeting that I got to spend some time with Marcel, and we discovered we both had enjoyed competitive ballroom dancing in college and enjoyed mountain hiking.

We both made some jokes about resuming the dancing and what might result if we did. Some of his jokes were definitely R-rated, and a couple were X-rated. Luckily, Dave couldn't hear them.

I was looking at Marcel, and he was giving me an almost predatory look. Wednesday he called me, ”Hi Susan, I enjoyed talking to you the other day. I especially liked some of your stories about your ballroom dancing contests. You kind of said you missed them, is that right?”

“Marcel, I wasn’t expecting a call. Um, I don’t have time to discuss it right now, but maybe. I’d have to think about it and talk to Dave before I decided. It takes a lot of time to be any good.”

“Do you get enough time for lunch to get together? Or would it be better after work to talk about it? I’ve been thinking about starting again.” Marcel said.

After those jokes we made, is it the ballroom dances he’s interested in or maybe, um, bedroom moves?

I could feel my nipples getting hard, and I decided to meet him after work.

“After work, I think. Maybe Jay’s? It’s near here and close to your office.”

I’ve been thinking about both, actually. I love dancing, and dancing used to lead to sex. God, it was wonderful sex when I hooked up with my dancing partners. It could end up being both. Dave isn’t interested in dance, and fucking—well, he’s better at making love, not fucking. I was overdue for a hard physical fuck.

At the end of the day, I was picturing us dancing in a competition in costume. I refused to picture myself naked on my bed in my bedroom with Marcel, naked and ready to penetrate me with his cock. I was shivering with arousal. It was like not thinking about a pink elephant.

Before I left work, I had to go to the ladies' room to freshen up.

When I got to Jay’s, he was sitting at a table with a beer, waiting for me. I sat across from him and ordered a glass of Pino Gris. “So, what did you have in mind, Marcel?" I asked. “What kind of dancing were you thinking?”

That was an open-ended question. He can answer with Tango, Waltz, or the horizontal mambo. How open is he going to be?

He was looking at me, obviously trying to decide if he should play it straight or pretend he was only interested in ballroom dancing.

“Well, I was thinking we could try a few dances and decide which we like best.”

That was cute. Evasive but cute. Okay, I guess I’m going to have to decide.

He paused for a moment, then added, “I don’t force my employees' wives to do any special dances; if you’re only interested in ballroom dancing, that’s fine. If you’re interested in something closer, more intimate, I’d love that.” He leaned across the table and kissed me. He finished by saying, “I’d prefer both, though.”

That kiss made me say, “I think. “I paused as if I still had to decide. “I think I want anything you want. Vigorous dancing, I think. Hell, what I want is to have you fuck me. Marcel, I want you. I want your cock. Tomorrow I can work late, and we can meet and discuss what kind of dancing we both want. I want the kind with us both naked in bed and ending with your cock in my pussy and we both come.”

I made that decision without really thinking about it. It was that easy to decide to fuck Dave’s boss. This won’t be the first time I’ve cheated on David, and it won’t be the last. He's not my cuckold, exactly. Dave knows that I sometimes need to be fucked, not made love to. He also knows that I get fucked, but he doesn't know who I'm fucking.

When I got home, Dave had dinner started, so I gave him a really nice kiss, considering I'd decided to fuck Marcel.

After dinner, I cleaned up the kitchen and invited Dave into our bedroom for some very satisfactory love-making.

If only Dave could fuck as good as he makes love, I wouldn’t be looking at Marcel to do it. If only he could. He tries when I ask him to, but he’s so good at making love, I don’t want to waste it with half-assed fucking. God, did that make any sense?

So tomorrow is the day I’m going to cheat again. I can tell that Marcel can fuck, and that’s what I need. I can hardly wait to be fucked like I know he can.

I got up extra early before Dave to shave and be ready for Marcel this evening. I wore my new underwear for him from my secret stash that I never showed Dave. My nipples were ready for him as I got dressed. They were standing at attention, anticipating Marcel’s cock.

I called Dave at lunch to tell him I was going to be late. It might take till midnight. He knew what that meant, what it meant, but not who it meant. He also knew not to ask who.

I was set. Dave knew I’d be late. And Marcel knew why we were meeting.

I was waiting at his home when he drove up. He opened the garage door, and there was space for my car, too. I drove in, and he greeted me by opening my door and kissing me. He had my top and bra off by the time I was standing next to the car. God, off to a swift start.

I kissed him back while he was finishing undressing me. I was there, still in the garage, naked. He was intimidating-looking. His hands on my tits were intimidating. By the time we were inside his house, I had his shirt off and was removing his pants. When they were off, I just stared at him; he had a wonderful chocolate brown complexion and a purple cock. Magnifique.

He wasn’t hesitating a bit; we were both naked. My hands reached for his cock, and his hands were on my tits. My pink skin was contrasting with his. Boy, was it dramatic! His hands on my tits were so strong that when they squeezed them, I closed my eyes to focus on the sensations I was getting.

I heard myself whisper, “God, Marcel. You’re perfect. I’m going to love having you fuck me. Fuck me. God, Marcel, I don’t want you to make love to me. I want to be fucked."

He moved one hand to my cunt, caressed it, and put one finger inside it. My lovers all get my cunt, while Dave gets to use my pussy. He led me through the house that I didn’t see because I focused on my tits and cunt.

He had some huge mirrors on the wall, and when I saw us together, my soft pink skin against his, I stopped just to admire the contrast. I could see the desire on his face and the tension as he saw it too. This was going to be memorable.

I dropped to my knees and slipped his cock into my mouth, sucking it. There was just a hint of cum on the tip, and I loved it. I cupped his balls, just enjoying myself. He reached down, pulled me up, and put his tongue inside my mouth, which had just been kissing his cock. He set me on the edge of the bed, and he kneeled between my legs with them over his shoulders, and his tongue attacked my clit. I erupted under him, and he had to physically control me.

He backed off while I came down and then attacked me again. His hands were squeezing my tits, and he was licking my cunt from front to back. I could still see us in the mirrors, and I looked almost insane with lust. I didn’t even hesitate; I had his head in my hands, guiding him where it felt best.

“Marcel, god, please, more, harder I need more. More, more.” I kept saying, "more," softer and softer. Until I screamed, “Marcel, fuck me, your cock, now! Fuck me.” I was becoming incoherent with my demands. He moved up so I could sense his cock just outside my cunt. I finally screamed, “Marcel, fuck me!”

He pushed it inside me once, followed immediately by another. A third thrust, and his cock seated completely inside me. I knew he was touching my cervix. I could feel it.

I was tearing at him, wanting more and more, and I suddenly felt my climax overwhelm me. I tightened my muscles, and he yelled, "Susan, here it comes; I’m coming.” He gave a last thrust, pushing as hard as he could. I could feel the warm, wet cum coating the inside of my cunt.

We both collapsed, lying next to each other. I needed to taste him, so I moved down and sucked his cock clean. i loved the taste of his cum together with my juices. I moved back up, and we just laid there recovering. My tits were sore, in the very best way. There’s nothing better than tits made sore by a wonderful lover, er, fucker.

I knew I’d have bruises on them, but Dave knew to ignore them. If I wanted to tell him, I would; if I didn’t, then I wouldn’t.

I was holding his cock, and he was holding my tits. He looked at me and touched my tits, tracing a couple of bruises on them, then said, “I left bruises; god, I’m sorry; Dave can’t miss seeing them; you’re so fair.”

I laughed, “He won’t ask about them. He knows better. He’s my favorite lover, and he knows it. If I have marks, it’s because I need to be fucked. He knows that’s happening tonight, but he doesn’t know who. I prefer it that way.“

I have a lover; what I need sometimes is a fucker. God, he's good.