Helen Patterson reclined back on her comfortable pillows admiring the strong, muscular physique of the tall black man getting dressed at the bottom of her bed.
A smile crossed her lips as she remembered vividly how that same man had ravaged her body for the last two nights; how he had used her for his enjoyment and satisfaction; and how he had totally satisfied the sexual yearning she had been feeling a few days before.
She looked down and smiled at the marital rings on her finger, the beautiful diamond and ruby engagement ring her husband of 15 years had placed there when he proposed to her on her on her 25th birthday all those years ago, the plain single gold band that he had placed there when they married shining like a beacon of their love. A tinge of sorrow crossed her mind, sorrow that she had been unfaithful yet again to their loving marriage back home in England. No remorse though. She thoroughly enjoyed her extra-marital dalliances while she was away in New York one week in every month and had long ago ceased to have any feelings of guilt and shame at her blatant betrayal of the wedding vows they had exchanged on that beautiful summer day all that time ago.
She needed those sexual escapes. Her life at home was wonderful, loving and caring. The sex with her husband John was never less than satisfying and more often than not absolutely spectacular, leaving them both totally satiated and content. Why then did she stray every time she was away from her marital bed? Why no guilt? No remorse? She knew she risked everything by doing what she did, so why did she continue?
Her adulterous betrayal of her marital vows had started 8 years previously. She had been travelling to New York for the monthly main board meetings for a couple of years by then, staying in the same hotel, same room even, for the majority of those times. Adamantly refusing the temptations and inevitable invitations offered by work colleagues, she invariably spent lonely nights in her suite after eating in the first class restaurant downstairs.
That particular day she had been involved in some intense discussions at work, the rivalry between between her and her peers for the approval of the main board of their individual suggestions had spilled over into some rather heated debates and she was extremely tense when she had arrived back at her hotel in the early evening. Against all her self-imposed rules for her 'downtime' as she put it, she had gone straight into the bar and had several large gin & tonics to help her wind down.
The strong drinks, combined with the fact she had not had anything to eat for several hours beforehand, had of course gone straight to her head. The unusual alcohol-induced feeling of relaxation left her extremely vulnerable to the attentions of the devastatingly attractive man who joined her at the bar and invited her to have another drink with him. He appeared to be several years younger than her and she felt dangerously flattered by his obvious sexual overtones. Consequently, they had spent the rest of the night in her room fucking like rabbits, her body responding to his far more than she would have ever allowed if she had been sober.
She had woken the following morning alone in her bed with a slight hangover; a sticky, well-used body, and an extreme sense of anguish and remorse at what she had done to betray her loving husband. Surprisingly, she had felt extremely relaxed in the meetings the rest of the day, her demeanour and mood giving the intended impression to her colleagues of a woman at the 'top of her game' who was not someone to be messed with in the slightest.
Travelling back to London a couple of days later, she had gathered her thoughts as she sat in First Class, sipping the complimentary champagne as she ate her wonderful lunch. Normally she would have been working on her laptop, but on this occasion she had far too much going on in her head to concentrate on such mundane matters. She went through all the emotions one would expect from a woman who had just committed drunken adultery for the first time; the feelings of guilt and shame; the wonder of how she would cope if John noticed any differences in her body; how she could possibly look him and their children in the eyes, knowing that she had betrayed their love like that. However, nagging away at the back of her perplexed mind, was the underlying feeling of excitement. The thrill and depravity of giving herself willingly to a stranger for the first time since she met her husband totally overpowering all the sentiments of guilt and remorse. By the time the plane had landed at Heathrow she knew this was not going to be the last time she fucked another man!...
Ms Patterson, as she was known at work, was the 42 year old CEO and Vice President of the UK arm of a multi-national merchant bank based in the USA. She had a first class Business Management degree from Manchester University as well as a Business Law degree from Cambridge. She had risen rapidly through the ranks at the bank, her talents as a hard negotiator and her keen eye for a new business opportunity soon bringing her to the attention of the movers and shakers who ran the business.
Determined never to have to be beholden to anyone in her career, she had steadfastly refused to ever date anyone she worked with; never becoming involved in the sexual merry-go-round to which other women seemed to succumb as they furthered their careers and advanced ever upwards in the male dominated world of corporate finance through the power they held in their panties.
Helen had met her husband John at Manchester University. He was a year in front of her, studying computer science, and they had met when they both attended a summer ball at the end of her first year there. They had hit it off immediately, her being attracted to his wit and rugged good looks; him, as he had confessed many times since, enchanted by her beautifully shaped, medium sized breasts.
Although he was a year in front academically in Manchester, she was actually two years older than him when they met. She had already studied for her Law degree at Cambridge and had enrolled at Manchester on the advice of her father. He was a very successful businessman in the Northwest of England and had studied at 'his' university for his own degree years previously.
As a couple, Helen and John were inseparable almost from the first moment they met. They had moved into her flat together after only knowing each other for five weeks and all their family and friends were immediately aware that they were total soul-mates and destined to marry as soon as they could. That event however took a little longer than they and anyone else had anticipated. They were both extremely busy trying to build their careers until eventually, just before Helen's 27th birthday, they discovered she was pregnant. Not wanting her wedding photos to be ruined by having a large bump in the front of her dress, they had married a short few weeks later on the island of St Lucia in the Caribbean, surrounded by their families and a few close friends and all paid for of course by her delighted parents who loved John like the son they had never had themselves.
Baby Annabel had arrived faultlessly on time just after the Millennium, followed two years later by her sister Rebecca. It was obvious from the beginning that Helen was going to rise quickly in the corporate world, her opportunities for advancement far in excess of her husbands. With this in mind, they had taken the marital decision for her to concentrate on her blossoming career while he worked from home; being a so-called house husband as well as the children's main carer and major housekeeper.
.... There is more of this story ...