Chapter 2

Jacques and I had been to lunch as we regularly do at least once a week. After we got into his SUV, he leaned over and kissed me, passionately. My alcohol infused body responded, I’m sorry to say. I felt his hand go under my dress and touch my thigh above my lacy stocking top. Then he reached further and touched my thong covered labia. My clit was protruding from its hood as his fingers brushed across it through my thong. He moved my thong aside and began rubbing my clit.

I gasped, “Jacques, No! I’m a married woman. I can’t do this. Please stop.”

He knew my pleas were futile. I was too far gone to refuse him. I felt his fingers spread me and enter me, massaging my most sensitive spot.

Again, I pleaded, “Jacques, please no! Oh God, you’re going to make me cum. So close ... so close. Jesus, I’m cumming.”

I came, oozing all over his fingers and car seat.

He said, “Ahhh, enjoy, My Love. I love you, Jan. I want you. I want to make love to you.”

In my aroused state, I reached over and wrapped my fingers around his erect cock through his pants leg. Then I unzipped his fly and pulled it out. I took him in my mouth tasting the copious pre cum that was flowing from the tip. I ran my tongue over the swollen glans until I felt him swell. I pulled off and watched the geyser of semen shoot into the air. One, two, three long spurts before it was a stream oozing out over my fingers. I looked at my cum covered hand and searched for a napkin or something to clean my hand. My pussy was still bare and sliding around in my own slick cum on his seat. I covered my labia up with my thong and straightened myself up.

“Jacques, this was wrong. So wrong. I’ve just cheated on my husband. Something I vowed to never do.”

He said, “He will not know unless you tell him. But I have to say, Jan, I love you and I want you in my bed.”

“Jacques, I have feelings for you too but I also love my husband. Please ... I’m so confused right now. My pussy is on fire. You did that. I’m so ashamed. Please take me to my hotel room. I have to clean up and change. I smell like sex.”

He said, “Yes, you do, Angel. The sweet smell of your body, fresh from an orgasm.”

So my demise began, I would like to say that I felt so guilty that I never let it happen again but I didn’t. We met several times with some heavy petting, just getting each other off. He wanted more ... much more.

I know Allen sensed something the day I came home on his day off in the middle of the day after an hour with Jacques. I changed clothes telling him I had spilt some tea on my white blouse and needed to change.

I’ve been home a whole two weeks and I’m having a hard time behaving normally. Sex has not even been mentioned since I’ve been home. My thoughts are elsewhere. Jacques has been calling me on my cell regularly. I have to make sure Allen can’t hear us so I leave the room.

Allen was working an investigation downtown near my building when my accident occurred. He apparently saw the ambulance turn into our parking lot and stop at the front door. Jacques and I were leaving the building when I missed a step and fell. We were on our way to his apartment where I had made the decision to give myself to him for the first time. I heard the snap and the piercing pain through my left ankle and leg. I couldn’t stand. My ankle was not in it’s proper position and turning blue. I knew it was broken.

Jacques called an ambulance. I learned later that when Allen saw the ambulance at my building, he had radioed his Dispatcher to find out what was going on. One of the paramedics at the scene knew me and Allen. He told Dispatch that I had been injured in a fall and was on my way to the E.R. and to contact Allen.

This is when my world fell apart.

I was moaning in pain as the nurse removed the air splint from my leg. Jacques was holding my hand.

“Jacques, it hurts so bad. I’m sorry I blew our our first time together. It was going to be a great afternoon.”

He said, “I know, Sweetheart. We will make it up soon as you feel better. I asked them to give you something for the pain.”

Unknown to me, Allen was watching and listening just outside the partially open curtain. Jacques bent over and kissed me passionately.

I said, “NO! Jacques, Are you crazy? Not here!”

Without saying a word, Allen pushed the curtain aside and stepped in. He looked at my swollen left foot which was iced and resting on pillows. It was purple and had an obvious deformity.

I jerked my hand out of Jacque’s hand and said, “Oh, Allen, I’ve broken my ankle. Baby, it hurts so bad.”

Without showing any emotion or sympathy, he said, “Yeah, your ankle looks bad, Jan. What happened?”

I said, “Jacques and I were going to lunch when I tripped and fell down a couple of stairs. I heard my ankle snap. The pain was sickening.”

The doctor came in with a nurse, who began cutting my stocking off. The doctor said, “Mrs. Roberts, you have a badly broken ankle that will require surgery. Your tibia is also fractured higher up on your leg but it will not need surgery. We are going to splint your ankle and leg for now and keep you overnight. The Orthopedic surgeon will look at the X-rays and your surgery will be first thing in the morning. You should be able to go home later in the day tomorrow. Right now, we are going to admit you, try to keep your pain managed and comfortable.”

The doctor looked at her “friend” and said, “Mr. Roberts, you can pick her up tomorrow afternoon. She will have discharge instructions when she leaves tomorrow. Rest, elevation and ice will be required for the next week or so for pain and swelling. Make her comfortable and give her pain meds every 6 hours or as needed.”

The look on Jacques face was like a deer in the headlights.

Before he or I could say anything, Allen said, “Yeah, Mr. Roberts, take good care of her. I see my presence will not be required. How long has this been going on, Jan? Let me know where to send the divorce papers. I’ll see ya around. Get well soon. Good bye, Jan.”

Jan was yelling, “Allen! Allen! as I walked out.

NOOO! I have screwed up in spectacular fashion. I’m laying in a hospital bed looking at my deformed broken ankle trying not to cry from the pain ... not only the pain in my leg but the pain from what I’m pretty sure, is the loss of my husband. I know he saw it all. He didn’t even come near me. He didn’t hold me, kiss me, or fawn over me at all. He knows in his heart I’ve been unfaithful. I’ve been playing with fire and it looks like I finally got burned.