by Anonymous

This conclusion is a fictionalization of a real incident. I am writing it while adding and adjusting the real life situation to prevent identification of the reader and spouse who was kind enough to share a soul wrenching experience with us.

The two beds turned out to be the best idea Early had. My husband swore he still loved me, along with the feelings of hate and betrayal with which my behavior had filled him. We made it a rule to go to bed at the same time. Actually Early made the rule but with a wifely nudge from me he probably wasn't even aware of.

We didn't undress in front of one another, mores the pity, as I was now unaccountably shy to show my body to him. Small changes in our routine were caused by the difficulty to communicate, such as our now splitting our shower times. I showered in the evening, while Early was undressing and climbing into bed. He showered in the morning as I dressed and put on my make-up. These were small things, but they underlined the distance now separating the two of us living in the same house.

But we found ourselves at least talking to one another, bed to bed, after a few days. Little things, such as repairs for the house, our schedules at work and after a couple weeks we even got into some of the things happening in our jobs.

With the disaster about to be inflicted on me, I am sure the closeness being rebuilt by the beds is the only thing that saved my sanity. Certainly without it our marriage would have been over.

The partnership at work didn't come through. Mr. Jensen pushed for it, but I was just too young, too new to the firm for too many of the partners. It was close, or so Mr. Jensen told me, but the decision was to let me 'season' a while longer before welcoming me into their ranks.

Another situation at the firm was both sad for me, and a relief. John Stockton took a sabbatical to run for Congress, and all indications were that he would make it. It was sad for me to see him go. John had been my mentor in the firm, and had become a fast friend. Too good a friend as it had turned out.

His position as my unofficial mentor was what led us to spend what turned out to be 72 hours together the week of Early's last business trip. Taking Jennifer and John's paralegal we had tripped to John's mansion in Medina to closet ourselves without outside distractions. We had thrashed out the problems one of the other Associates in the firm had caused, and the two of us working together had somehow rescued Melrose from a financial and legal nightmare.

It was a very innovative solution, and only on the last day, Wednesday, did we see the solution. We were euphoric, getting more and more excited as the day progressed. I found myself giving John hugs and little kisses on the cheek for just being so darned smart. He hugged me back of course, and as the day progressed and our lack of sleep began to catch up with us John's sense of humor got more and more outrageous. We three women found ourselves snickering constantly at his little asides, things that normally wouldn't have been funny and that John would have thought inappropriate in a business setting of any sort, certainly not when ladies were present.

I had been calling Early on my cell phone in the evenings, to keep in touch, tell him how much I loved him, and make sure he was all right. Strangely enough those calls in that situation, that is my thinking of my sexy husband when he was a thousand miles and four days away, were what triggered my fall.

Late Wednesday afternoon, we had pretty much completed the save, and called Mr. Jensen to give him the good news. That was when I was told on a conference connection that he was recommending me for a partnership. That was the last straw for us two lawyers! Jennifer and the paralegal finished the last touches, and John produced a bottle of the finest brandy I had ever seen, much less tasted.

John poured us each a generous sampling, and we began proposing toasts. The first was to my impending partnership. Then we toasted each of the assistants individually, and then each woman toasted John, complete with a kiss on both cheeks from each of us for each toast. John was now not only tired, but a bit tipsy and he made some remark about having two more cheeks to kiss which, as out-of-it tired and now tipsy as we now were, we found hilarious.

John ordered a catered meal by one of the best restaurants in the area, which was delivered about 6:30 that evening. After eating, and killing a bottle of wine, Jennifer and John's paralegal announced they had to go home to their husbands. They were obviously too much under the influence to drive, so we stuck them in cabs and sent them home. They each had instructions to call in to the office in the morning, tell them they had the rest of the week off and let the office know John and I weren't coming in either.

Since my Early was out of town, I didn't want to return to a cold and empty house, and John, who is a widower, was happy to have me for a guest until we, or at least I, sobered up.

After the gals left, I began to get maudlin and John 'cut me off' from the brandy. When the time came to call my husband, I had begun to return to sobriety and was able to talk to him without giving away my condition. As always in our calls, Early and I got intimate, telling one another various things we wished we were doing to one another at that very moment. With the closeness we had shared for the past three days it seemed normal to have John sitting on the sofa with me while I had that phone intimacy with Early.

As always, our conversation turned me on big time. It also pushed a number of John's buttons, and he was almost pawing the floor by the time I hung up. I laughed at him, and he handed me another snifter of brandy, this one almost half full. Without thinking, I downed at least a third of it, equivalent to three normal servings of the potent beverage.

As we laughed and joked, now about how horny John had become, how raunchy Early must be and how much those talks with Early turned me on, I began to flash him. Since I was wearing jeans and one of Early's plaid shirts, it seemed quite innocent at the moment. However, I wasn't content to just unbutton two more buttons on the shirt and posture so he could see down my top. When John reacted to the first two acting like he was physically restraining himself, I undid another, and then another.

At that point John stood up and ripped his polo shirt off over his head, then posed before me, flexing his muscles and doing stud muffin imitations. Now he isn't a hunk, but neither is he unattractive, and like most women I find the male physique arousing. John's was turning me on.

The shirt I was now wearing with the tails hanging out, and four sizes too big, was unbuttoned all the way to my waist. It gapped open, and with me lying slouched back on the sofa the shirt front had opened to rest on the outside of my bra enclosed breasts. John of course was ogling my goodies, which I found funny. I responded to his baring his chest by trying to pull up the leg of my wide legged stone washed jeans to show him my gams. When I couldn't pull the cuff above my knee I took a couple large swallows of my drink. After laughing a moment thinking about how I was going to one up John, I yanked my jeans down around my ankles while muttering something about showing him a thing or two.

Apparently I did, for it was about this time that John's smile began to change. He was still happy and joking, but the look in his eyes was now more intense. "That won't do," he shouted, before striding over to where I was slumped back against the sofa, grabbing my ankles and hoisting them in the air. Before I knew his intentions, he had yanked both my shoes off, along with the socks, and hauled my jeans completely off my legs.

After tossing them to land atop his red polo shirt, he stepped back to look me over. My shirt had now slipped halfway down my arms, which were splayed out to the side, leaving my upper body clad only in a see-through lace bra and a green and black plaid shirt which was now effectively only a wide belt. Around my middle the only thing covering my treasure was a high cut bikini panty, matching the bra and it too was almost completely transparent. To all intents and purposes I was nude. Except showing the female body peeking through clothing that does nothing to cover is more stimulating than a woman naked.

The booze and hormones had pretty much taken over my mind by that time, and I complained that John wasn't keeping up with me. John now wore a look of intense concentration, his eyes eating me up and making memories. Without a trace of a smile, the man in front of me slowly, carefully, deliberately unbuckled his belt, unzipped his trousers, and hooking his thumbs into the waist band of his pants very slowly pulled them down to display his package.

First kicking off his loafers, John very slowly slid his hands off his firm ass, down his thighs, past his knees and then kicked them off his feet, one foot at a time. When he had hooked his thumbs into his waistband, he had also hooked them into his underwear.

John stepped over in front of me, wearing only red argyle socks, standing with his shoulders back, chest out, one leg slightly in front of the other. His erection bobbing with every breath he took and every beat of his heart. His manhood was more than adequate.

The man was damned sexy, and I could feel my already out of control libido crank itself up another notch.

"Who's over dressed, now?" he asked with a smirk.

Very slowly I found my hands unbuttoning the last fasteners on Early's shirt which I was wearing. Letting it slide the rest of the way off my arms, I slowly sat up, reaching behind me as I did and unfastened my bra.

Looking back, remembering, I have no idea why I did it. My life, my love, my marriage had disappeared from my mind. All I could see and feel was the compulsion to let the male animal before me, see how desirable the female before him was.

Standing up I pushed my panties down, then I straightened, nude.

John slowly stepped to me as I raised my arms above my head, lifting my breasts to pout and pucker at him. My nipples were fully distended. His hands came around my small waist, clasping me with his hot hands. Now up close, all I could sense was his masculine smell, brandy and a trace of wood spice cologne. It was the compelling odor of a man aroused. Looking down I stared at his tool, standing straight up, swollen and hard, pulsing, the purple-plum glans glistened with his pre-cum and lubrication.

Only too aware of the fire in my belly and the way my center had turned to liquid, I lowered my arms, letting them fall on his shoulders. My hands automatically circled his neck and unthinkingly pulled his face to mine.

We kissed for the first time, and the real world disappeared for the two of us.

I remembered John lifting me straight up, pulling me to him, plastering my body against his. Our mouths locked together in a deep, deep kiss. While we kissed, his tongue playing with mine, he let my body slide down his. My breasts slicked down his already sweaty chest, the hairs of his chest electrifying my nipples. Then something was poking, prodding my center, pushing itself past my swollen labia and into my sheath. I was liquid and ready and his shaft easily pushed the walls aside and in one stroke his sword was sheathed inside me. That was all it took to send me over the edge with the first of an untold number of orgasms lying ahead for me that night and the next few days.