Chapter 1

My name is Kimberly. I'm a thirty-two year old wife, mother of two, married eleven years. I work for a financial services corporation where I commute to work from our quiet, conservative suburban town. I'm active in my church group and consider myself a Christian conservative. I've always tried to uphold the values of my church, and to be a good Christian wife and mother. This is how I became corrupted, and betrayed myself, as well as my husband.

It all started at my job. There was a man there, named Tony, in accounting, who had transferred several months earlier. He was about seven or eight years younger than me, but very self-assured. He was ambitious; he had a reputation as "executive material," somebody marked for advancement. He was also known for the many women he had dated. He made no effort to hide his interest in me, from his first day in our division; he smiled when he took my hand, but as soon as he caught my eye, his eyes traveled down my body. When he met my eyes again, I remember I blushed and had to look away. He squeezed my hand meaningfully before he let me go.

After that I couldn't keep away from him. He would come around my cubicle to flirt with me. He would massage my neck, or try to guide my hand on the computer mouse, leaning over my shoulder. He would look pointedly at my breasts or at my legs. I should have been offended, and I was; but I was also a little flattered. Anyway, I never encouraged him, but I didn't report him either.

He was a very handsome man, muscular and dark-skinned; he had an Italian last name. I never thought of letting things go any further than that, though I admit I was attracted to him. Some of the younger women in the office were jealous of the attention he paid me. I sometimes found myself thinking about him late at night.

Things went on like this for a few months, until Tony learned my secret:

I'd been cheating on my expense vouchers. I'd started out small, a few dollars here and there. Everybody did it. But things were tight at home. We were on a budget. Soon I was stealing regularly, and in larger and larger amounts. I used the money to pay for things I felt I needed for myself.

Tony came by my cubicle one day, as usual, but he dropped some papers on my keyboard.

"You need to take a look at this," he said.

I examined the papers and recognized them. I felt a cold tingle in my chest. They were my weekly vouchers and my quarterly expense account. My numbers didn't match!

"You know Kimberly, your expenses are much higher than the others'."

I closed my mouth and studied them. "Tony," I scrambled, "I must have made a mistake!"

He laughed snidely.

"Kimberly," he smirked, "I have to ask you for your receipts now".

I swallowed. My hands were beginning to tremble.

I was desperate.

I looked up at him, pleadingly. "Tony," I whispered, "You've got to let me change these..."

He smirked playfully at me. "What's in it for me?" he asked. He put his hand on my shoulder.

"Please let me change them," I begged him. "I-I can't lose my job right now..."

His eyes dropped to the level of my breasts. I caught myself looking down as well.

His hand began tracing a line down the front of my blouse. He stopped at my nipple. He gave me a little squeeze. He looked back at me. I realized I had closed my eyes.

I looked down at my lap and then into his eyes. There was no mistaking his intentions.

"You'll let me change these, Tony?" I asked.

He smiled at me and began to slide his other hand along my thigh. I saw his hand disappear beneath my skirt. "Maybe, Kim," he said. "Like I said: It depends on what's in it for me."

Me continued to look at me, and when he saw I was going to let him, he leaned down and kissed me on the mouth. His hand continued down my thighs. I felt him through my panties. He squeezed my breast harder. I couldn't help myself: I opened my mouth for him; I raised my hips. He twisted the front panel of my panties aside, and I felt his finger at my opening. He entered me, roughly, all at once. The sensation was unbelievable. I couldn't believe how slutty I felt, yet how wonderfully erotic. He told me to meet him later, in the conference room. I let him put his wet finger in my mouth. I felt like a whore, but I was panting in my seat.

I can't say what I did next I was just for my job. That was part of it, of course. I couldn't afford to get fired. We were barely making it as it was. I told myself that I was doing it for my family, for my children, for my job. The other part of the truth is: I'd liked the way his hands had felt on me; I wanted him to touch me again.

I met him in a conference room at noon. I made sure nobody saw me go in there, and shut the door carefully behind me. I was ashamed of myself. He grinned at me with a look of naked lust. I was humiliated at how he looked at me when he saw me come in the room like that. "What a slut," I thought, sneaking into a room to be with a man who was not her husband.

I almost backed out, but he took me in his arms and kissed me, pressing my body against his. I could feel every part of him; I felt even his dick, already hard, pressing against my belly. His hands caressed me through my dress, pressing against the backs of my thighs and my ass. I felt a rush of pleasure, and I felt my body melting against him.

He stepped back and admired me. He told me to unbutton the back of my dress, and I obediently did what he told me. He grasped my dress at my hips, and pulled it un-gently up and over my head, tossing it to the floor. I stood before him in my bra and panties, still breathing hard from the kiss he'd given me. He examined me.

"Kimberly," he said, "you have no idea how good this is going to be." A guilty thrill ran through me when I heard him say that. He told me he wanted to see me naked, and I hesitated for only a moment before unhooking my bra and sliding my panties down around my knees.

He smiled and wet his lips. The look of animal lust in his eyes made me quiver. I couldn't remember when a man had looked at me so boldly and appreciatively. My nipples stiffened under his gaze, and I felt a trickle between my legs. My sense of shame increased as I realized how slutty I must look to him.

He took my head and neck in his strong hands and I submitted to him. I let him kiss me and run his hands up and down my body. I wanted his finger inside me again, but he pushed me away. He told me to get up on the table.

He openly admired me while I sat there, legs apart, grasping the edge of the table with my hands. "This is going to be fucking great," he said, staring at my pussy. He put his finger in my mouth, and then he shoved it in my pussy. I watched him do it. He used one, two, and finally all four fingers to finger-fuck me on the table. I felt myself begin to move against him. I groaned very quietly.

He pulled his fingers out of me and he pushed me back on the table. He pulled my hips up, and then bent his face down toward me. When his tongue touched my clitoris I felt a rush of pleasure. I squealed for him. I covered my face with my hands as I felt him suck me into his mouth. This was something a man had never done to me, though it was something I often thought about. It felt even better than I'd imagined. The pleasure was indescribable. When I came I stuffed my fist into my mouth to stifle my cries, and then I moaned and slobbered around my fingers. He stood up, his face slick with my come. He studied me for a moment. I remember lying there, my chest heaving from my orgasm; my legs still open wide for him. I wondered what he'd do to me next.