‘Are you okay Penny? Please reply. I’m worried.’

The screen of my phone flashed in the corner of the kitchen the following morning for the third time. The message that glowed across the screen before fading told me instantly who had sent it; Tony, the man with whom, less than twenty-four hours ago, I had committed adultery for the first time after over twenty years of monogamous marriage.

I had cheated on my husband. Not in one of our fantasies; not in one of my erotic stories. No, this time another man’s erect penis had actually been inside my body and, if that wasn’t bad enough, it had even left its load of semen within me.

I was no longer a faithful wife. I was soiled goods. The damage had been done and could never be undone.

“Are you okay, Penny?”

My husband’s words mirrored those of my only lover exactly but for different reasons. Not knowing how to reply, I had deliberately ignored all the messages Tony had sent me since I had hurriedly shooed him from our house the previous evening only minutes after our first and only copulation had ended. He was unsurprisingly becoming anxious.

“I didn’t sleep well, that’s all,” was the best I could say.

Pete’s question deserved a better response but he seemed content, returning to the article in his newspaper.

He had cause to ask; I had risen early as usual that morning looking terrible after a largely sleepless, guilt-ridden night. Riven with remorse after the previous day’s incident, I wasn’t in the mood to continue writing any of my erotic stories so instead I had flicked impatiently through the newspaper at the breakfast bar until my husband had come downstairs, thinking terrible thoughts about what had happened only hours before.

No matter how many times I told myself that Pete and I had fantasised about this happening many times; that it was something he had told me over again that he wanted; it didn’t help reassure me as the events of the previous evening ran over and over in my troubled mind.

How had I let it happen? After so many years – maybe decades of flirting, I had finally let our close, long-time family friend Tony seduce me, strip me and fuck me on our lounge floor. Over twenty years of fidelity had been thrown away for what turned out to be less than ten minutes of frantic, clumsy fornication.

What was far worse was that they had probably been the most fantastic, most exciting ten minutes of my life. As I sat alone in our kitchen that Saturday morning I was trying to deal with an awful but undeniable truth: that I had loved every crude, brutal and abandoned minute of my fall from grace.

It hadn’t been like Pete and my bedroom fantasies at all; there had been no lengthy seduction, no gradual disrobing, no long drawn-out foreplay. It had in truth been more of a crude wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am fuck but it had felt simply incredible.

Even as I sat, guilt-laden across from my husband, I could still remember vividly how Tony’s short but so very thick cock had felt inside me; the sheer physical shock as my inexperienced body had been penetrated by its first unfamiliar cock in over twenty years, stretching me tightly around its impressive, unaccustomed girth.

I could still picture clearly how he had looked, his half-clothed body over mine as he thrust that short, stubby cock into me over and over again.

I could remember vividly the arrival of my first vaginal climax in nearly a year; how it had caught me unawares, shaking me uncontrollably as the shockwave of illicit pleasure had pulsed through my yielding body.

I could remember vividly the look on Tony’s handsome face as his own climax turned his familiar smile into a cruel grimace before his pulsing cock began to pump thick, sticky semen deep into my vagina.

I had studied myself carefully in the bathroom mirror before coming downstairs, afraid to see tell-tale signs of guilt written brazenly across my face. All saw was a tired, middle aged woman who could have done with a lot more sleep. My vulva was still pink, swollen and surprisingly sore from the battering Tony’s cock had given it but beyond that there were no obvious outward signs of the momentous change that had taken place.

But there was no escaping the fact that the change had happened, that was no longer a faithful wife. I was a cheat, an adulteress, a fallen woman, a harlot as my Grandmother would have said.

I felt guilt like I had never felt before. I felt shame. I felt sick.

My husband Peter had risen a little earlier than usual too and was sitting across the table from me, oblivious to his wife’s new status as a ‘fallen women’ and his own as a Cuckold.

I looked again at the handsome man who sat drinking his coffee and reading the financial pages, blissfully ignorant of the guilt that wracked my every thought. I thumbed distractedly through the colour supplements, knowing and dreading the fact that I would soon have to read and reply to the messages waiting on my phone.

Even the newspaper seemed to taunt me, apparently containing nothing but reports of celebrities having affairs and marriages breaking up but deep down I knew it was really my conscience haunting me. The undisputable fact that my husband had spent the last year positively urging me to take a lover only went so far in assuaging my feelings of guilt. Worse still, however guilty I felt, there was no denying that it had been one of the most intense sexual experiences of my life.

I looked across at my phone again and wondered what my new lover had to say. Did he feel as guilty as I did? Did he regret it all? Had he lost all respect for me now as I had done for myself? Would he be overcome with remorse and feel he had to confess all? If so, who would he confess to? His marriage might be in tatters but I wanted to keep mine!

Finally I could wait no longer. Interrupting Peter’s bright, talkative conversation, I excused myself and almost ran to the upstairs lavatory, sweeping my phone off the dresser as I passed and locking the door to be sure there would be no interruptions.

I sat down on the toilet seat and fumbled with the phone’s screen until I found Tony’s latest message. I read it and all his previous messages before taking a deep breath and dashing off a hurried reply.

‘Hi. I’m okay. How are you?’ I replied, physically shaking with nerves.

‘Thank God Penny! I thought you were ignoring me,’ his reply came almost instantly.

‘No. Sorry. Couldn’t find a private place. Are you okay?’

‘Yes of course but I feel very bad about yesterday. I wanted to talk last night but didn’t dare call.’

I thanked God that he hadn’t. My nerves were frazzled now; the previous night they would have been in pieces.

‘Do you regret it?’ I asked, not knowing what answer I wanted to hear.

“Do you?”

I paused. The answer should have been an unequivocal ‘yes’ but even then I couldn’t make myself ignore the incredible feelings my single adulterous encounter had produced.

“I’m not sure,” I replied truthfully.

“I understand. There’s a lot to think about.”

It was the understatement of the year.

“Did I force you into it?”

Tony’s question wrong-footed me for a moment. In all my night-time horrors, I had never once even pretended to myself that I had been a reluctant participant in the wicked deed. While it might have been a sop to my conscience for a moment, it would have been too great a lie even for a fallen wife to use.

‘No Tony. I wanted it too,’ I replied clearly and unambiguously. “Couldn’t you tell?’

Actually putting the truth in writing was almost cathartic. I didn’t even have to think about it; at the time I had wanted it and wanted it badly, however wicked it had been.

‘Thank God,’ his message came quickly. ‘That’s such a relief. No regrets then?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Feeling bad? Guilty?’

‘Very mixed up!’ I typed, my hands still shaking.

‘I’m not mixed up at all,’ came the prompt reply. ‘I’m very pleased we finally did it after all these years. Please can we do it again?’ He added a cheeky, smiley emoji to the message.

For some reason I hadn’t expected to be asked this question so soon and so directly. For a moment I paused, my heart beating in my chest. There was no question what the ‘right’ answer was – an emphatic ‘no’! There shouldn’t ever have been a first time, let alone a second. I should be firm, I should be clear. I should not see Tony again.

What was more, if I said 'no' decisively enough, I might perhaps assuage at least some guilt by telling myself it had been a mistake, a slip-up, a one-off error of judgement not to be repeated. A regrettable incident brought on by unrealistic feelings of passion generated by my foolish writing. Tony and I could perhaps still just be friends. Perhaps.

If I agreed and went to bed with him again as my body told me I wanted so badly, I could never pretend it had been anything but a deliberate act of infidelity, something I had wanted to do and planned to do, a path I had chosen to take.

We would become lovers. I would become a real cheating wife rather than just a foolish one. There could be no going back to the way things had been.

But did I want to go back to the way things had been? Did I want to go back to a life of sexual frustration and dissatisfaction? Could I really turn my back on the extraordinary pleasure I had enjoyed even during our briefest of copulations on the lounge floor? How might it feel if we had more time, more privacy, more familiarity with each other’s bodies?

And anyway, hadn’t my husband assured me that I had his blessing? Hadn’t he urged me to cheat on him? Wasn’t it at least partly his fault, even if he didn’t know it had actually happened?

Was it really cheating if Pete had urged me to do it? That argument still didn’t feel convincing, even to me.

‘Are you still there Penny?’ the phone buzzed in my hand again.

“I’m here,’ I replied.

‘So can I see you again?’ Tony’s message beeped. ‘We need to talk at least, don’t we?’

‘I’m not sure that would be a good idea.’

‘We can’t just pretend it didn’t happen can we?’ he insisted.

‘I suppose not,’ I typed, feeling my resolve beginning to slip. ‘But only to talk okay?’

‘If that’s what you want.’ He sent a sad face emoji.

‘I love my husband. I love my marriage. I want to keep them both.’ I said, emotion growing in my chest.

‘I’m not asking you to give up either,’ came the reply.

‘When could we meet? We’re busy most of the weekend.’

‘Anytime you want! Now! Today! Every day if you want. I didn’t sleep last night thinking about you.’

I sighed as I typed.  ‘Neither did I.’

Oh help me God! What should I do?

‘Just to talk okay?’ I asked again, knowing that at least part of me wanted more than that; much more.

‘If that’s all you want,’ he repeated.

I took a deep breath, knowing deep down that the next decision might shape the rest of my life.

‘How about Monday evening when Pete goes to the gym?’

My fingers had made the decision for me. The message was sent almost before I realised I had typed it. There was a long pause; so long I began to wonder what was happening. Asked to name a date and time, had Tony started to have his own second thoughts?

‘Okay, Penny.’

’Where?’ I asked.

‘Can you come here? It’s more private.’

‘What time?’

‘Come as soon as you can. I’ll be here waiting for you.’

‘Just to talk right?’

‘Whatever you want Penny.'

I breathed a sigh of relief, my body alive with the tingle of excitement.

‘I’ll be there XX,’ I replied, the line now well and truly crossed.

I flushed the lavatory, made an unnecessary trip to the bathroom to make sure my face wasn’t giving anything away, then returned to my husband in the kitchen, who didn’t seem to have even noticed my absence. My heart was thumping in my chest as I wondered how on earth I would be able to behave normally until Monday evening.

And what on earth I would say when I met Tony again.

***

The rest of the weekend passed in a blur. The soreness in my body gradually faded and by Monday morning I could almost have persuaded myself that Friday’s infidelity hadn’t happened. There were moments when the whole thing felt like an unreal dream, other moments when the feelings of guilt were almost intolerable, and still more moments when all I could think of was being in bed with Tony again.

The fantasy that Pete and I enacted in bed on Sunday evening took on a much sharper edge and although Tony wasn’t the centre of the story, all I could see when I closed my eyes was his face above mine.  All I could feel was his short, thick cock inside me, stretching me tightly again though even this wasn’t quite enough to bring me to orgasm.

It was hard to maintain my apparent lack of interest afterwards when Pete made his usual attempt to persuade me to take a lover for real but from his disappointed reaction, don’t think he suspected anything had changed.

***

Monday was very busy at work, thank God, which helped the day pass though when we were home from work, Pete seemed to take an incredible amount of time to get ready for his usual evening session in the gym. As a result I was even more excited and agitated when I arrived at Tony’s flat for the ‘talk’ we had arranged, parking my car around the corner so it wouldn’t be so obvious I was there.

I truly had intended just to sit and talk things through and had gone dressed in my work clothes to remove any suggestion I had dressed up for him.

As I got into my car I fully intended to tell him that what we had done was a mistake, albeit a very pleasant one.

As I drove the short distance from our family home to Tony’s anonymous flat I fully intended to tell him that we had to put our families first and bring things to an immediate end.

As I pulled into a vacant parking space close to his apartment block I was ready to tell him we must put the whole incident out of our minds and carrying on our lives as if nothing had happened.

Even as I rang the bell and waited for Tony to open the front door I still intended to tell him firmly that our affair was over before it had started.

But as my Grandma would have said, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

It tells you a great deal about Tony’s powers of persuasion and even more about my own weakness of character to learn that within a disgracefully short time of my arrival I was on my back on his bed. My thighs were spread wide and Tony was between them, his thick stubby cock thrust into me, fucking me hard and passionately again.

The journey from nervous, awkward, embarrassed peck on the cheek at the front door to being naked from the waist down in his bed, legs spread with his cock buried deep in my tightly-stretched vagina was so smooth and so quick that my bewildered mind barely had time to register what my body was doing before it was too late even to try and stop.

Not that I would have tried; before any thoughts of hesitation or regret could enter my consciousness, the beast within me had taken over. Tony was as passionate as before but this time I was responding instinctively and in kind. It was raw, rough, hasty, new and exciting. We were both much better lovers too when given more time, unencumbered by clothes and on a soft mattress rather than on a hard floor with our ankles tied together.

Once again I was amazed at the thickness of his short, stubby erection as it penetrated me and, after all those years knowing only Pete’s slim cock, just how unbelievably good it felt to feel young and tight again.

Although its length made his strokes much shorter than I would have wanted, Tony more than made up for this with speed and energy. This time I reached orgasm hard, quickly and noisily which for me was most unusual. Tony matched his pace to mine, bringing himself to climax as mine began to fade and when I finally felt him ejaculating deep within me I was drifting on a sea of illicit pleasure.

Afterwards, I lay on the rumpled white sheets underneath him in a glow, feeling his welcome weight on my body and the extraordinary tightness in my vagina relaxing as his shaft softened and shrank within me. At that moment I understood that I had found a whole new kind pleasure that I had never realised existed.

“That was so good,” I heard myself saying, my voice slurred as if I was drunk.

“It was for me too,” Tony replied, panting slightly and looking deep into my eyes. “Why the hell did we wait so long, Penny? We’re so... compatible.”

“Maybe the time wasn’t right,” I wondered, my head still spinning. “I don’t know; I’m just glad we found each other in the end.”

His flaccid cock slurped messily out of my vagina and he rolled off to lie at my side. I felt his fingers on my skin, stroking me gently. It felt good; close and loving. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the tingling sensations.

“So what have we started, Penny?” he asked softly, his hand stroking my tummy, his fingertips straying down to my dark pubic triangle.

“Mmmm... that’s nice. What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean,” his fingers were on my small boobs now, “What is this thing between us? Is it a fling? An affair? Are you going to leave Pete and live with me?”

To be honest, the question hadn’t entered my mind; all I had been interested in were the incredible new sensations that sex with Tony brought. I felt young again, attractive, desirable and when he made me cum!

“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “I’m confused. It’s too soon to make a decision. Can’t we just enjoy what we’ve discovered for a while?”

“Of course, anything you want,” he reassured me, his voice low and soft to match his fingers. “I’m just... well, a bit crazy about you, that’s all!”

I kissed him on the lips and we melted into each other, tongues entwined, teeth clashing, eyes closed. A man’s mouth tastes different after he has ejaculated and I let the wonderful earthy flavour wash over me; after all it was my body in which his welcome semen was now lying.

Tony’s semen! A warm glow came over me. Throughout my life I had always believed that the only proper way for lovemaking ever to end was with a full, unprotected ejaculation inside a woman’s body, my body. No doubt my psychologist students would have had great fun analysing this but the urge to be inseminated had characterised the whole of my sex life so far and promised to continue in whatever I had just got myself into.

Tony’s semen was lying inside me for a second time in only a few days. My mind drifted. Was I right in remembering that his vasectomy had taken place less than a year after Pete’s? Was that what Julie - his wife and my best friend had said? Or was I imagining it?

The worrying truth was that my conscious mind hadn’t given it a single thought! In the sheer joy of my abandonment, the idea of protection of any kind simply hadn’t entered my mind, either on Friday when he had first fucked me or today before the amazing sex we had just enjoyed. I had wanted him so badly I hadn’t even thought of the possible consequences!

My menopause hadn’t really started – my mother’s was late too - so there was still a risk of me getting pregnant even at my age, albeit a very small one. With Pete having had the snip a long time ago, I hadn’t even thought about it.

Although I didn’t understand it at the time, the coming months were to demonstrate only too clearly that there were a lot of things I didn’t think about when ‘in heat’. This was a weakness I could and should have recognised in myself. If I had understood myself better then, I could perhaps have saved us all so much worry in the future but at the time I didn’t realise its significance.

Ridiculously, I didn’t feel able to ask Tony as I lay in his arms in my post-coital glow. Instead I resolved to get the morning after pill the following day ‘just in case’. I would have to visit a town some distance away where I wasn’t known but that could be done. I silently prayed that it wouldn’t be too late to stop any unwanted outcome from our first copulation three days ago and tried to concentrate on Tony’s question: what had we started?

Although I wasn’t ready to think about it, he was quite right to ask. That evening our relationship had moved from something that could have been passed off as a pleasant but definitely one-off mistake to something much more deliberate, much more calculated and I had to admit, much more enjoyable.

And what on earth should I do about Pete? What had I done to my husband? Even as I lay there, freshly inseminated in another man’s bed, there was no doubt in my mind that I loved my husband dearly.

So what was I doing there? After a weekend of remorse, why had I sinned a second time? And why didn’t it feel as sinful as it should?

I told myself that it was at least partly my husband’s fault. Had Pete not spent so long trying to convince me to take a lover, had he not seemed so sincere in this desire, the last few days would not have happened. Without Pete’s persuasion I would not have let Tony seduce me the first time and certainly wouldn’t have willingly returned for a second fucking.

I was only doing what my husband wanted. Pete would understand. Pete would approve. Eventually he might even be pleased.

Oh God, I hoped so!

But then I felt Tony’s tall, slim body rising over me again, I felt the heat of his near-hairless chest against my tiny boobs. I felt his left knee insinuating itself between mine, forcing my legs apart as he began to mount me again.

Without another thought, I spread my thighs in rampant, obscene invitation and a moment later the smooth, thick head of his revived erection confidently parted my inner lips and forced its way into my loose, messy semen-filled vagina for the second time within an hour.

And it felt simply wonderful!

“Ohhh!”

Tony’s thickening erection slid smoothly into my loose, welcoming body in one long, single, well-lubricated thrust until his pubic hair ground hard against mine. For a moment I wished again that his cock was longer – much longer - so the incredible stretching could last and last.

“Mmmm... Yesss!”

But the thought was quickly driven from my mind as he began to fuck me and fuck me hard. Sensitivity half-forgotten, his thrusts started slowly and smoothly but quickly became short, sharp and increasingly violent.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

Creak! Creak! Creak! Creak!

The obscene, wet sloppy sounds coming from between my thighs were joined by the bed groaning its unhappiness as our two middle-aged bodies collided over and over again. My vagina, already loose and very well-lubricated from our first coupling became looser still, offered no resistance at all to the thick, stumpy invader that pounded into it. My clitoris, already sensitised from our first copulation, was dragged tightly against his upper ridge and in an instant I began to climax for the third – or was it fourth time in the last hour; my head was spinning too much to count.

‘Oh Tony.... please... oh yes... oh fuck meee!’

The words flashed around my head but I was biting my lip too hard for them to become audible. Instead I ran my fingernails over his wiry frame, along his shoulders, down his arms and across the well-defined muscles of his chest.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

Creak! Creak! Creak! Creak!

“Penny... Pennyyyy!”

I dug my fingernails hard into the muscles of his shoulders, raising my knees and wrapping my legs around his upper thighs. My body was in complete surrender, lubrication must simply have been pouring from my slit if the wet slapping sounds filling the room and the electric tingling in my groin were anything to go by.

Schlappity-schlappity-schlappity-schlappity

“OhhhGodddyess!”

Was that my voice? It sounded barely female and as for the rich, earthy smell that was permeating the room’s stale air; was that really coming from my body too?

Shlap-shlap-shlap-shlap-shlap-shlap-shlap-shlap!

“Oh God Penny I’m going to....”

Tony’s voice was almost desperate. I understood immediately what was about to happen.

‘Not so soon! Please….’ I silently begged.

Tightening down on his thick shaft as hard as my middle-aged pelvic floor would allow, I tilted my hips downwards, forcing my clitoris as hard against his ugly shaft as I could, squeezing that amazing erection tightly between my inner lips in an attempt to bring my own climax on faster.

“Oooyyyeeesss!”

The effect was immediate; a wave of heat rushed outwards from my vulva, rippling through my belly and spine and into my chest. I began to orgasm uncontrollably, staring wild-eyed into Tony’s handsome face as it began to contort and twist with his own powerful climax. HIs body went into spasm, his thrusts became wild and uncontrolled, all semblance of rhythm gone as I felt the head of his cock swell deep within me and for a second time in an hour he began to cum inside me.

This time his climax was short-lived but no less intense if the extraordinary grimaces on his face were anything to judge by. I felt his shaft pulsing in my body as he ejaculated, adding yet more semen the sticky mess already within me and which now coated my inner thighs and lower belly, forced out by the power of his thrusts.

“Yes! Cummmiinnnmmeee!”

I half-howled into the room, like an animal in heat; feral, as if my whole body craved insemination by this strong, powerful, attractive man.

“Jesus Penny! You’re amaazzziinngg!”

Sadly Tony’s ejaculation lasted only a few moments before his body became still and his shaft began to soften inside me. Panting, he rolled off me once again and lay alongside. I felt that strange and wonderful mix of emptiness and triumph that the combination of orgasm and insemination brought me.

“Where did you learn to do that?” he asked, laughing out loud, “That was sooo good!”

I squeezed his hand. The romance of the evening would not have been helped if I had told him the truth about my ‘squeeze’ technique; that when a woman’s vagina had become as loose as mine had after childbirth, she had to try every trick in the book to get anything like the same pleasure out of sex. Of course with Tony’s cock being so thick it wasn’t as necessary but still...

“Oh shit! Look at the time!” I suddenly exclaimed, catching sight of the clock on the bedside table and throwing back the duvet.

I knew Pete’s gym sessions usually lasted less than two hours even with a shower and a drink in the bar afterwards; there was no time for afterplay or pillow talk. Climbing rapidly out of bed, I pulled on my clothes as quickly as I could, very much aware of the state of my body.

I had to get clean; no way was I ready to confront my husband with my lover’s smell on my body – if I was ready to confront him at all!

“Sorry! Sorry!” I kept mumbling as I dressed as quickly as I could.

“Will you call?” he asked anxiously. “Please Penny?”

“I’ll call. Of course I’ll call!”

A stunned Tony followed me to the front door, a towel around his waist, where we hugged and kissed before I ran down the apartment block’s stairs to find my car. Not daring to look back, I jumped into it and drove too quickly for home, more than a little dishevelled.

If I had been less distracted, I might have noticed the bright explosion of Bonfire Night fireworks filling the sky. A clearer symbolic announcement of my change in status from fairthful wife to cheating slut could not have been planned. But my mind was elsewhere; instead I was very relieved to see the driveway empty when I arrived home.

The gusset of my knickers was soaked in semen by the time I reached the bedroom and pulled them off, hastily burying them in the dirty washing basket where I knew my husband was very unlikely to look. Tearing off my clothes, I pulled my robe around my naked body and headed quickly downstairs to the utility room, feeling a little extra goo trickling down my inner thigh as I filled the washing machine. The oozing sensation made me shiver with an illicit thrill.

I ran back upstairs and was in the shower frantically trying to wash away every trace of my encounter with Tony when Pete came into the house a few minutes later.

Half an hour later my husband and I sat talking in front of the television as if nothing had changed. A strong feeling of unreality came over me.  Everything within the room felt completely normal; everything within me felt extremely different. How could Pete not see the guilt writen all over my face? How could he not tell I was a changed woman?

And I was a changed woman; there really was no going back now. I had gone to Tony’s intending to make my first act of infidelity my last one. I had left after adding two more crimes against fidelity to my record and with the intention of adding more.

Was this really what my husband had tried so long and so hard to persuade me to do?