When you're married, it's okay to have little fantasies about other men; everyone does it, and it's enough to get you through the mundane parts - until it's not.

When it wasn't enough, I went about seeking horny men out on erotic websites and having a bit of dirty talk. A little flirt for the old ego. All innocent enough, cheating - yes in some minds, no in others - but nothing physical happens, so what's the harm?

The harm comes when the thrill wears off and you begin to seek more. More thrill, more danger, more excitement, just, more...

I tell my husband I love him when he heads off to work, and I mean it; I love that man. His work hours have changed; he's exhausted all the time and less sociable than he once was, including with the kids and me.

He loves me, and I know he still wants me - his stiff cock poking into my backside every morning as he cuddles up to me tells me that. He still watches me intently while I get undressed, his eyes fixed on my tits or arse, but he won't flirt with me anymore; he doesn't tease or play like we did when we were first together. Young love growing old, right?

When we do have sex, it's good; it really is. He's got an impressively sized cock, keeps it neat and knows just how to fuck me with it, but the foreplay has begun to fall away. That man's tongue is exquisite - on the occasions I get it, my god, multiple orgasms galore - but usually, it's got to be quick and quiet (the joys of parenthood) and I don't always come away feeling very special. More of a means to an end, the thing that helped him get off rather than the sexy, desirable woman he can't get enough of.

So I came here, I shared stories and flirty conversations and that was enough. Until it wasn't.

I took some conversations further, explicit descriptions of wet blowjobs and intense fucking. Step by step descriptions of how my lips would wrap around throbbing cock heads. I'd get off on descriptions of their greedy mouths, hot on my pussy. I was told how badly I was wanted, how sexy I was, how my words were having an effect...and that was enough. Until it wasn't.

I added pictures to my profile; now, not only were my words hot, I was getting complimented on my actual body, the real me! It was a thrill; it made me feel sexy. The naughty chats lasted longer, the teasing and build-up almost unbearable, the release so fucking good... and that was enough.

It should have been enough, but it wasn't.

One conversation got taken to a new platform, where picture and video sharing were an option; we could hear each other, and watch each other as we touched ourselves. I'd send videos of myself slowly revealing my D-cup breasts, showing how hard my nipples had become. My wedding ring would flash and shine in the light as my hand grabbed and squeezed at them. The camera would follow its trail as it slid lower and I would let him watch as I slid lace underwear to the side or pulled them off completely and touched my most intimate area.

I'd do what he asked of me, I'd show him how I like to touch my clit, I'd pushed my fingers inside myself and had been thrilled by the excitement I'd caused in the hot guy I'd been talking to. His raging erection egging me on, filling me with a feeling of power and seduction.

I'd watch intently as he stroked his cock, knowing he's imagining me, wanting me! I'd heard him moan, grunt and breathe heavily for me; he'd sworn and moaned my name and told me how much he wanted me and his hot cum had flowed for me. I'd followed quickly after, quick fingers rubbing a perfect rhythm to orgasm. I'd let him hear me, my moans of pleasure. I'd whispered his name. That was enough...

For a long time, I swear it was. But then, he was nearby for business, he was a real-life possibility, and I'm weak.

He asked me to come to him; he actually wanted me, for real. I said no! He pleaded; the "please baby" and "I need to see you" made me waver. The promise of a hot and steamy night was alluring, and eventually I caved.

Excuses and lies came easily, sexy lingerie sneakily put on under my dress and I was out the door. My belly ached, my heart ached, but my selfish pussy was desperate and in control. They say men think with their dicks; well, shit, I wasn't thinking with my brain either!

I went straight up to his hotel room; no meeting in the bar for us - imagine if I got caught! He opened the door and looked me up and down, slowly, like an animal sizing up its prey. He licked his lips and I laughed. I didn't mean to; it just burst out. His eyes snapped to mine, and he smiled a predatory smirk before pulling me quickly inside and shutting the door.

He told me he'd been looking forward to this all day; he said I looked beautiful - not just "hot", not just complimenting my tits and arse. He was looking at me, really looking, and he liked what he saw, and it made me feel so good.

I stood, trembling before him, seeing him properly for the first time, no screen between us. His pictures didn't do him justice; at just over six feet, he looked down on me, his dark eyes burning into mine. He stepped closer and I could smell him, fresh and masculine; it was intoxicating and I let him push me gently back against the door.

My heart was pounding so hard. I was so desperate for him to touch me but he hovered painfully close instead, the heat from his body radiating out towards me, his breath tickling the hairs trailing over my neck. God damn it, I made the first move. I hate that I did; it feels like I cheated even more, but that's what happened. I slipped my fingers into his belt loops and I pulled him against me, his hard body pressed into me and I kissed him, hard. I'd be damned if I was going to be soft and gentle; this man knew what I wanted from our many conversations, and I wasn't about to cheat for nothing.

He bit my lip, he wrapped his fingers around my throat, and fuck me, he squeezed and it felt so good. I was pinned, squashed between the door and this man I'd never met in person, and I was loving it. My silky underwear was soaked and I wanted him to know it.

I took his other hand and led it to the hem of my dress, encouraged him with pleading eyes to lift it and touch me. He peeled my dress up around my hips, never broke eye contact or let go of my throat. I was melting! His two hands had such different approaches; the one around my neck was hard and forceful, taking what it wanted. The other was gentle, his soft fingertips trailed along my inner thighs; the hidden whore in me made me part my legs and he teased so slowly towards my aching pussy. He made me squirm, index and middle fingers parted either side of my clit, rubbing over my silk-covered pussy lips, so close to where I wanted him, but so far as well.

My hips moved on their own. I felt myself try to grind against his hand and heard myself moan as he pulled his hand away. Suddenly he grabbed my hips and turned me around, and I felt his breath on my bare skin as he unzipped my dress and slipped it off. I was stood there in underwear and heels and I'm not ashamed to say, I felt amazing. In fact, I felt hot as fuck, and as I felt him press against me, his hard throbbing cock and the sigh in my ear as he unclipped my bra made me feel wanted too.

I turned myself back around and reached for him but he stopped me; he said, "Ladies first," and knelt at my feet. I leaned into the door as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties and slid them down my legs to the floor. His dark stubble felt amazing as he kissed up my thighs, and when he reached my soaked pussy I heard him inhale. I burst out a quick giggle again; did this guy just sniff me?! But he silenced me with his tongue; wide and flat, he slowly licked from my dripping hole to my clit. I felt him tense his tongue to dip between my lips and circle my clit and I moaned a sound I've not made for a long time.

While his hands gripped my hips and held me steady, his tongue worked on my clit. I could hear how wet I was, and could hear him moan while he teased me. I was breathing hard and grabbing at my boobs, pinching my nipples and feeling electricity jolt downwards, adding to the pleasure he was giving me. Fuck, it was quick but I was going to cum; my breaths quickened and I whispered of my impending orgasm. I felt his lips curl into a smile and his tongue dragged deliciously over my pussy and clit again and again until I succumbed. My legs shook, I cried out and I'll admit, I felt fantastic.

Before I'd managed to catch my breath, he took me by the wrist and led me to the little desk near the hotel window, views of the town spread out below us, the lights twinkling. He pulled himself close behind me, wrapped his strong arms around me and his hands squeezed and cupped my breasts. His hands were so different to my husband's, his touch more insistent, the skin smooth, his fingers long and teasing. I moaned as he rolled my nipples, pulling them until it just started to hurt. His hands slid to my shoulders, and he quickly pushed me to bend over the desk, my arse and sopping wet pussy exposed to him.

My sensitive clit was still throbbing from my previous orgasm when I felt his tongue on it once more. Instinctively I spread my legs further, asking for more. He obliged; his hot tongue slid from my clit to dip into my pussy, fucking me with it while his fingers rubbed my clit. Then he went further, his tongue lapped eagerly at my arse and he slid his fingers into my pussy.

Now, listen, it's not that my husband never does this, but it's seriously like a twice-a-year thing, maybe - but I fucking love it! Having my arse teased while I'm being fingered or fucked is heaven. So I held onto the desk and I took it like a slut.

His fingers hooked round inside me in the perfect way, his thumb worked my clit and his tongue was just amazing as it flicked over my little puckered hole. I came hard; I mean Christ, I screamed and I almost cried, but he didn't stop. He finger fucked me hard and fast until I came again - that was the first time in my life I'd ever squirted!

He pulled off of me, scooped me up and laid me on the bed until I could breathe again. While I lay there he stood at the end of the bed and undressed while he looked at me. His cock did not disappoint - I'd worried the screen or the angles he'd used would have made it seem bigger than it was, but it was perfect. Not much bigger than my husband, but thicker, and it was rock hard.

I watched as he wrapped his fingers around it and began to stroke himself while looking at me. I felt so desired, it was an ego boost and I loved it. I began to touch myself too, one hand playing across my chest and the other dipping in between my legs. He told me to spread my legs wide so he could see, and I did. I rubbed my clit and watched him stroke his cock, he was groaning and it was turning me on so much to be able to get him hot like this.

I needed to feel him, so I crawled to the end of the bed and planted a wet tongue kiss on the head while he continued to stroke it. I worked the head into my mouth while he squeezed the thick shaft; my tongue flicked out and made it clear I wanted more.

He helped me off the bed so I could kneel down and I directed him to sit back and enjoy. He cocked himself up enough to look down at me, and watched as his cock disappeared into my mouth inch by inch. I love sucking cock, so I was not put off by the tears in my eyes, or the way I gagged when he hit the back of my throat. He moaned every time he got that deep and it encouraged me to take more. I'd moan and swallow as he got deep, letting the vibrations and my throat massage the head of his dick. He tasted so good, fresh and salty and smelled like he'd just stepped out of the shower.

The longer I sucked on him, the more vocal he got; he wrapped his fist into my hair and pumped my head on his cock. He said I had a dirty little mouth, and I smiled around my mouthful of cock. He asked if I liked having my mouth filled by another man's cock, and I moaned a small affirmative noise. He cupped my chin to make me look at him; I had tears in my eyes, drool and pre-cum around my mouth and his cock still at my lips - he growled the next question.

He asked, and I quote, "Do you want me to fuck your slutty married cunt?" My mouth popped open, his cock bobbed there in front of me and I moaned. I said yes, I said fuck yes, I begged him, I said please - oh god, is that pathetic?

He took me onto the bed and crawled up between my legs, said he wanted to watch my face as I took another cock inside me. It was so thick, it stretched me and filled me and felt so fucking good. I held his gaze and raised my hips to meet his thrusts, my nails clawing at him to pull him deeper. He didn't let me down; he slowly fucked me hard and deep, pulling almost all the way out before slamming hard inside me, making me cry out every time. It was torture. I needed a fast, furious fucking and begged him to stop messing me about and fuck me.

He pulled out and flipped me with ease, told me to hold on tight and thrust into me like he was mad at me. I grabbed at the duvet and pushed back to meet him, it hurt so good, his hand slapped against my arse again and again, and he'd held onto my hips so tightly I knew they'd bruise. Again and again his cock buried itself in me; we both were so loud, I was screaming and making guttural noises I'd never made before, he was moaning and breathing hard behind me.

I knew we were both close.

Then I heard and felt him spit on me; it landed on my arse and I braced myself again. As he fucked my tight pussy, he pushed his fingers into my arse, which just sent me flying over the edge. I cried out and came so hard I saw stars; all the pain of his cock slamming deeper than I'm used to went away and I felt myself pushing further to take more. A few more thrusts and he slammed hard once more, his cum filled me, and when he growled out loud it was my name he said, and I was happy.

We showered together and he kissed me softly under the hot water; he was gentle after the hard fucking. He kissed my neck and made me cum again with his fingers, and he whispered into my ear that he needed to see me again before he went back home. I said no; he said he understood, but was disappointed.

I got myself together, and went back home to my man.

I'd cheated. I'd crossed the line. I'd had glorious orgasms, amazing sex and this sexy man wanted me, he made me feel desired, and good about myself and my body. I'd got what I needed, and that was enough.

Until it wasn't...

I pulled out my phone and messaged him, Are you free tomorrow night?