Three months after Robin and I first married I had to go overseas for a year. Before we were married we had lived together for about six months before that. To say the least, those nine months had been sexually torrid!
At the time that we got married, Robin was a really attractive girl with a very pretty face and a great body with long shapely legs and small but perfect pert breasts. We had met within weeks of her coming off a bad marriage so I was a little tentative about getting involved. I am almost nine years older than she.
She had spent all of her life in a small Oklahoma town and, to have been married, she was naïve as could be. On the other hand, I had been single and been floating around in the "single world" for quite a long time. Being as naïve as she was, it was a total shock to me that on the very first date we ended up on the floor in her living room with my face between her legs. She started cumming in no time and I know that during the rest of that evening and night she must have cum eight or nine times. I'm not kidding you.
She wouldn't stop cumming and responded to every little thing that I did to her. She later said she hadn't had sex for six months and even then he was a lousy fuck. It became very obvious very soon that she was tremendously oversexed.
I knew right then that she owned me. Lock, stock, and cock!! We got married seven months later. Three months after that, I had to leave for a year.
Our sex life was very sweet and remained extremely active up until I left. What I should have realized was that I had a young wife that was extremely oversexed.
I had been gone for four months when she came to visit me in October. During that elapsed time, we had sent cassette tapes to each other on a regular basis in addition to daily letters. When she arrived, the first thing I noticed was her hair was very long in comparison to when I had last seen her. She was wearing boots and a very short dress that buttoned up the front, top to bottom.
We had a room right next to the airport. When we got in our room, I put her up against the door and lifted the dress she was wearing. When my hand went between her legs, it was met with a super slushy pussy. The tiny thong she was wearing was totally soaked and did nothing to protect her and cum was running down her inner thighs. Later, I found that the transparent lacy black bra she was wearing was just as tiny and useless as the thong, her stiff nipples slipping out of the top of their confines! I was super proud and turned on by all of it. Surely she was so thrilled to see me.
She stayed for two weeks as we celebrated her 25th birthday and we had a wonderful time with non-stop sex. One thing had not changed ... she was absolutely insatiable. Unfortunately, she got on that plane to go home with a wet and begging pussy and it was still seven months before I could return home.
We continued our long distance correspondence. However, a few months later I began to notice something about those tapes she sent me. At the time, I didn't "tie things together". Even though our letters were very personal the tapes were much more revealing. A letter may say something, but a recorded voice revealed how it was said, what was actually meant.
Even before she came up to visit, I had noticed that at times her voice would become a bit shaky, hesitant, and even feeble. It was obvious that at times she would turn the recorder off before she would recover and proceed on. But a few months after her visit and just after Christmas there was a subtle difference in the tone coming out of that little recorder.
It was just as honest, just as full of anguish and the "I miss you" stuff. But all at once it was noticeably different. I couldn't put my finger on it and never mentioned it. Almost in a pleading tone, later I would recognize it as an "I'm sorry" admission that didn't quite come out as she wanted.
Months later I returned home and over the next couple of years we had a child and settled into the rigors of daily life. I'm not saying our sex life went away, but it certainly became mundane at best. For some reason, it was just different. Almost as if she was holding back. Saying nothing to her, I couldn't help but wonder.
Then one night I happened to awake and (for my first time) discover her masturbating right beside me. I said nothing at the moment and was very still as I felt and heard her come to an explosive orgasm. I was surprised and thrilled. I never let on to my discovery but, after that night, I gently coaxed her into doing it on a regular basis for me.
After some time not only did she relent to do it in our bedroom but also, since our son was so young, she would routinely do it on our car trips. Very soon, watching her bring herself off in the car overrode the purpose of the trip itself. It is astonishing how hard she could cum from her fingers.
On one particular trip we were going on a day trip to a local resort so she had her bathing suit on. I intentionally had our son sit up front in a child restraint seat (it was legal at the time) and she sat right behind him in the back seat where he couldn't possible see her. I glimpsed back at her at times but mostly I watched her by adjusting my rear view mirror.
She was reading a magazine and, as I watched, she slowly slipped her hand under the right leg of her swim suit. Within thirty minutes, always looking out the window or at her magazine and not at me, she began a quiet undulation of her body that increased until she quietly exploded, jamming her feet down onto the floorboard and writhing softly on the seat.
A few minutes later she pulled the top of her suit down and started rubbing her nipples. She kept it up for a long time before going back to her clit and quickly and quietly exploding once again. I think it was then that I first fully understood how sensitive a woman's breast can be.
Over the next year or so our sex life really picked up. It was during that time that when we were in bed and having sex, I often started asking her about sexual things she had done in her life. Her little stories were exciting but innocent ... not a really big deal. Somehow, I thought there was more. I could just feel it.
I was right. My intuition was right on!
As things happen, it all came about in a strange way.
One Christmas on short notice I had to leave on a business trip which kept me out of town the two weeks before Christmas. She was pissed, especially since shopping wasn't done and we had to rush to do it before I left. On the way back from my trip I was going to have to drive right by her parents. From our house to theirs it was a three and a half hour drive. We agreed that when I came back she would drive up there and meet me for the weekend and then we would come on back home together but in separate cars.
Because my trip home required an overnight stay in a motel, it took me more than twenty four hours to drive from my business location to her parent's home. I got there in mid afternoon but found her already there. She had driven in very late the night before, completely in the dark.
I expected to find her still angry with me. Instead, she was incredibly wet and very willing. She had driven up while it was dark and our son was asleep in the back of the car. She said she had lowered her jeans all the way down past her knees and had come so hard several times that she almost had to pull the car over.
I came so hard with her that night!!
And then, lying quietly but still hard inside of her, like many times before I quietly asked about that trip years before when she had come to visit me. I was deep inside her as I quietly and gently cajoled her. I felt her pussy begin to twitch in response to my inquiry. I thought for a moment she was going to say something but she held back.
When we left the next day, she did a strange thing. We agreed that our son would drive back with me and she would travel alone in front of me. Even though they were old technology, we had never discarded those old tape recorders and I had taken one of them with me to my business seminar but never used it. I was surprised when she asked for the cassette player.
We got back to our home about noon Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve and Christmas morning was uneventful but very nice. She kept saying she had a special gift for me, so when it wasn't under the tree I very happily readied myself for a very special Christmas Night. Ignorant me. I had no idea of what was to happen. None at all!!
Right after our son got in bed she started pacing. I didn't bother her, even though I thought it strange. I half heartily watched an old movie and kept an eye on her. After a while it was obvious that she was in a decision making mode.
"Go for a ride."
She had walked up behind the stuffed chair I was in.
"Huh?" How strange. It was Christmas night!
"Go for a ride in your car."
Then she walked away. She seemed to want to distance herself from me. Her nervous gestures were very noticeable.
As soon as I opened my car door I saw it. That little cassette player was lying on the front seat driver's side. There was no way that I could miss it!
I drove. Then I hit the "play" button. Her raspy, shaky voice came through the little recorder. I listened for about two minutes before I pulled aside in a very dark strip mall parking lot that was totally abandoned for the holiday.
Her quiet voice filled the car.
"You have asked me many times about my trip to see you. First of all, I want you to know how wonderful it was."
There was a long hesitation. I thought that it was all over ... that there would be nothing else even though I could hear the machine twirling quietly. Actually, I now think that she was gaining courage.
After a few seconds her voice again, softly ... shaking ... and with the obvious sound of road noise. Obviously. she had recorded this on her way home from her parents. As I listened spellbound in the dark Christmas silence there would be obvious lapses, the tiny recorder being turned off then back on at times. Each time before she turned it off, it was if she reached a point that she couldn't speak and would turn it off until she regained her composure.
Each time it was preceded by heavy breathing and her voice becoming broken ... hesitant ... raspy. Later, after listening to it four or five times, I fully realized that during those interludes she was cumming and had turned it off every now and then to mask her dilemma. Just the thought of my wife driving down the Interstate, talking softly and rubbing herself into orgasm, almost made me cum.
"You've asked so many times. I've given you so many answers. It's been years, happy ones, since then. This is what really happened."
"When I came to visit you overseas I had a layover for a few hours at JFK. Even though I was wearing a very short skirt, I carried a large coat because it was cold where you were. As I sat there waiting, I started to relax for the first time in days. I had a boarding pass and you were on the other end. I had been without sex for four months and knew that was going to end soon."
"I started to relax and as the anticipation started to set in, I started to very carefully rub myself through my dress which had my coat thrown over it. I kept it up for a long time, not doing it hard or fast enough to bring me off, but certainly enough to put me up on a plateau that would take nothing to bring on an orgasm."
"The plane was totally packed. I had an aisle seat and was terribly relieved when I found the two people next to me was a very attractive English speaking couple from Sweden apparently in their mid thirties."
"I was a little bit impressed, a little bit intimidated with him. They were going to stay on the plane for a continuation flight after I got off. It was ten at night when we took off so as soon we reached Altitude, a meal was served and the lights turned out. Nobody in my area left any lights on, and I curled up under a blanket with the help of the lady next to me."
"Soon after I settled in, I felt the itch begin. At first I carefully and slowly satisfied it through my dress, but after a while I unbuttoned a few buttons and gained access to my clit. It was no time before I felt an orgasm coming on. I tried to be careful with my body language and breathing because the lady was leaning into me a little and I didn't want to make a scene."
"However, it got the best of me and I quietly started bringing myself off, my breathing broken and my body in a constant microscopic shudder. Finally, I got up and went back to the bathroom where I came again, this time much harder."
""When I got back to my seat, the lady had moved over to my aisle seat and asked me if I minded sitting in the middle because she didn't feel too well. I wasn't going to say no. Both the man and woman helped me settle in and all three of us covered ourselves up with blankets, as there was
still about three hours of flight time remaining.
"After 15 or 20 minutes, I started getting touched on the leg ever so slightly by the man, who was on my left. I was aware but not concerned and continued to keep my eyes closed. The touching became more brazen after a short while until finally he put his full hand on my leg. I didn't have a clue what to do. I was a small town girl that was on the first plane trip by myself, let alone an international flight."
"I knew my only option was to call the steward and make a scene, but the plane was full and they couldn't move me. I decided my best option was to pretend to be asleep. After all, he was not a threat, his wife was right there, and I was going to get off the flight soon and never see him again. It seemed like the right choice ... at the time."
"My lack of response either encouraged him or he took it as approval, because he lost no time in exploring my legs. He slipped his hand up, causing my hem to ride up with it. Being very slow and deliberate at all times, his touch was hard to ignore. I was having a harder and harder time trying to pretend to be asleep and I think he knew so. My attempts to wish his hand away failed and he touched my panties.
"Even though I knew it was coming, I still jumped at his touch. I didn't say or do anything, but it gave away the fact that I was just pretending to be asleep. I guess he was waiting for any reaction from me and when he didn't get any he continued with a very slow caressing through the cloth."
"I was turned slightly away from him so there was no eye contact and his soft touch continued for another ten minutes or so. During this time, his wife had turned slightly so her face was fairly close to mine."
"After that first few minutes, I wasn't aware of anything except the sensation of his fingers teasing me. How it happened, I don't know. But somewhere through the panic came pleasure from this slow teasing. For some reason, I relaxed my body a little, my legs parted slightly, and this allowed him to cup me fully between the legs."
"I was mortified that it was going this way, but I was definitely being aroused. I was breathing harder and there was an unwanted little gyration as my body starting to move with his hand. He never became rough or in a hurry, but rather kept up the slow, gentle movements that he had from the start. Even though I kept looking away from him, my body kept adjusting and it made me more available to him."
"I think that at that point, he must have known that I wasn't going to say anything. He slowly slipped his hand under my panties and touched my clit, rubbing me harder and much faster. I couldn't hold myself back. I sucked in my breath and my body started moving with his hand. Almost instantly, I could feel a rush coming like I hadn't felt since I had seen you."
"As much as I wanted to get out of the situation, I couldn't escape either his fingers or the pleasure they were sending between my legs. Then the impossible happened. There was no way I would ever have believed it could happen to me, but it was there."
"That very distinct quivering deep inside me, the unmistakable sign of an oncoming orgasm. I don't know when he detected it, but he most certainly did. If I had any intention of trying to quell the onslaught, he squashed that idea by pressing even harder on my clit and speeding up. My stomach started those familiar contractions and it happened."
"I came. How can I say it any other way? With tears in my eyes, my hips ground back and forth in the seat, not just succumbing to his touch but anxious for it. That little vibration my body makes during orgasm was as evident as if I were on our marriage bed. When I slowed slightly, he abandoned my clit and slid his finger in me. Again, the touch was slow. This time, however, it was hard and strong. I didn't seem to have the will to fight it and I came again within minutes."
"He knew I was his and took control of me as if I were a schoolgirl. After that, I don't know how many times I really came. His speed and pressure would vary and bring me off and I was in such a state that I wasn't really sure when I was coming or not."
"This kept up for over two hours. Never once did we have eye contact or did he ask me to touch him. As far as his wife was concerned, I now think she was all part of it, if not involved. She had her face up close to mine through most of it, and seemed to have very irregular breathing at times, very heavy. I think the lady was bringing herself off."
"When they turned the lights back on, we all straightened ourselves up
and acted as if nothing happened. My departure from the plane was met
with smiles and good-byes from them both. As I left and stood in line
at customs, I could only hope that the wetness that was so obvious to
me under my clothes would not become apparent to others."
"And then I met you at the terminal."
Just like that, the recording stopped. Her voice went silent.
I looked at the silent recorder for a long time.
So THAT was why she was so wet, so gushing, when I met her at the airport those years before. It wasn't erotic thoughts of me that had spurred on such a drenching. Instead, it was a combination of her own fingers and a stranger's deft touch that had excited her so. Evidently, over the years, the anxiety about what had happened had built up so overwhelmingly that she couldn't hold it back any longer.
What she was attempting to do was to come clean ... to admit what she considered a disastrous truth. What really came across, though, was that very obviously and as forbidden as it was, she had responded to another man's illicit touch and found it to be very erotic and pleasing ... even until now. Even to this day she couldn't think about it without cumming. Even while, in her own way, she was telling me about it!
I listened to it three times before I went home. Robin was sitting up in bed, waiting for me. As I walked in our room her eyes met mine and wouldn't disconnect. Not one word was spoken. I knew she needed to see something rather than just hear about it. As my mouth slid up the inside of her legs she closed her eyes and moaned out an orgasm within minutes. Not me, though! It was extremely difficult but not once over the next two hours did I cum. I wanted to stay hard, to make sure she knew how much her story had moved me.
She shouldn't have worried about my response to her admission of guilt. There was no way she could have known that she was filling a longing on my part. I had suspected something ... had wanted to know for so long. She totally owned me that night. The relief from her was audible and physical. Nothing was the same after that night! Over the coming year I couldn't get enough of her story and had her tell it to me over and over again as I questioned her in detail.
It also emboldened me.
If she had weakened once... ??
It was sometime during the next week or so that we entered into a sexy, quiet conversation about her attraction to other men. I pressed and pressed her about anything that happened while I was gone, but she insisted that even as horny as she was it was all down to a few times of dancing very closely with a couple of guys. Not that those close dances didn't turn her on! She readily admitted that!
But she did throw me a bone. A little gift meant to please me. I think maybe she was trying to make up for her little indiscretion.
Not long after that she surprised me one day with a voice cassette. I listened to it in private and it blew my mind. She had made up a story about her and another man. It was really hot and surprised me with its vivid descriptions of her and another man in various sex acts and how he had seduced her.
I showed my appreciation to her and we both started doing it. She always recorded hers sitting on the floor in our bedroom with the door closed. Standing quietly and secretly behind the closed door, I could hear her cumming while she was recording hers so I knew they were impacting her in a positive way. As for the ones I gave her, they were never about me. They were always a story about her and another man or woman. She always waited until our son was asleep or gone and then went in the same bedroom and closed the door where she lay on our bed and listened to it.
At first, I stood secretly outside the door and listened intently as I could hear my voice quietly drone. Even over my voice I couldn't miss her voice as she breathed hard and sharp before moaning into an orgasm.
Then I got wise and, anticipating what was to happen, I barely opened our bedroom window, slightly parted the curtains, and stood outside to hear and observe the show she put on while listening to the tape. My God, the woman could cum!!
However. However. Still, there was definitely an iffy" part. No matter how I tried to shake it, I couldn't help but harbor a deep, erotic suspicion about her during my absence. I mentioned before that I had detected a very dramatic shift, a change in her demeanor, starting just a couple of months after she came home from her trip to see me. Maybe it was that sudden shift in her demeanor those few months after she had returned after her trip. Maybe it was just a lusty imagination on my part. Whatever, I definitely had my suspicions and couldn't shake them.
Odd things happen. Sometimes two and two DO make four.
Soon after my return years before I had became aware that there was a young intern who had come to work in the same department in the hospital that my wife worked. He had arrived about two or three months after the two of us had been separated for my tour of duty and before her visit. He remained there for about a year after my return. I only met him one time and that was right after I got back. He was one of the lucky ones in life. Good looks, money, terrific mannerisms ... and a boatload of family money. For a long time I thought nothing of it. I liked the man.
But, people talk. Gossip. Sometimes embellishing to stir interest. (Don't we all?) And unfortunately that talk reaches unintended ears.
My wife has an unmarried sister about two years older than she that also works in the same hospital. Unlike my wife, who is in a medical field, her sister works in administration. For a lack of a better term, she is a clerk. She is one of those women that can't seem to be able to pull things together. For those men who think she is an attractive enough woman, her odd personality seems offensive. For the men who might be able to live with her oddities, she isn't attractive enough. Bottom line is she has never married and spends a good deal of time talking of others. Personally, I've always liked her.
One day I was painting a room in her house when I started picking up on a phone conversation that she was having with somebody. It took a while but I zoned in on the gist of the conversation. Evidently she was talking to another woman who also worked at the hospital about an intern at the hospital who had just left to go to Pennsylvania. I put two and two together and suspected that it was the same doctor who had worked with my wife.
What caught my instant, undivided attention was when my sister-in-law started referring to him as "Doctor Husband" and laughing about him. Whoever he was, it became clear that this guy had a bit of a reputation of being a smooth womanizer and had no qualms about getting involved with married women on the staff.
Later that afternoon she started to drink, which is never a good idea for her. Rather than letting it annoy me as it normally does, I instead had a beer with her and over an hour's time quietly began to ask questions. When I thought it was safe, I asked about a new Doctor on the staff named "Dr. Husband." She laughed and freely admitted that it was only a nickname. The person that she and the other women at the hospital referred to as "Dr. Husband" was actually this intern who worked in my wife's department. In fact, his real name was Duane.
It had my immediate attention.
I pushed a little. I didn't want to cause suspicion or concern. She informed me very proudly the reason for the nickname was that Duane evidently didn't want to be romantically involved so he only approached married women to fulfill his sexual urges. The more she drank and with my probing questions she was more than anxious to talk about him. Seems that he had no interest in her and she was a "woman scorned."
"How long did this go on," I asked without trying to show too much interest.
"Since about a month after he got here." She laughed a little. "He damned sure didn't waste any time."
Then, with a liquor loosened tongue, she made a little mistake.
"Hell," she laughed. "I think he even tried to get close to old Robin one time."
She leaned over and smiled a crooked smile.
"He didn't have a clue who little Miss Straight and Narrow was, did he?"
"No, not at all," I laughed with her. Then I gave her a few seconds and pushed a little.
"When did it happen?" I tried to be innocent and jovial in my questioning.
She thought a minute and then shrugged.
"About Christmas time when you were over there."
I dropped it. We might be friends but, if she remembered our conversation at all, she might confide in Robin that she had said something to me and that I had shown interest. After all, they were sisters and close ones at that!
It stayed in my head after that. It was so coincidental. During my absence I had detected a very real change in her tapes starting around Christmas. Now, years later, Robin's sister was blurting out to me that there may have been at least an attempted seduction at precisely that time.
Just the thought of it made me rock hard. Robin had already admitted to one extemporaneous indiscretion on her part. Had it occurred again? Had she, once more, done an erotic body dance and came to the tune of another's talented fingers? Or more??
It was too exciting to let it just go ... to forget about it.
As carefully as I could, I pulled "Dr Husband" into one of our conversations. Very innocently, very nonchalant I brought him up. I tried to keep it comical, easy going.
So did she. I don't know if she could see past my façade but I couldn't miss the strain in her voice. I laughed inside. I'd bet a hundred dollars against the hole in a doughnut that Duane, or "Dr Husband," was one of the men whom my sweet wife had danced with ... one of the those lucky one that she admitted excited her when she was doing it.
Oh, yeah. I had it figured out. It was funny. And it was erotic past words!! I only pushed a little after that but it became obvious that there was a definite response.
I decided to push a little farther. I blew it!
We were still exchanging the little sexy stories on tape about every six weeks. Even though it was fun and exciting, I think we were both starting to stretch for story lines.
What to hell! This would be PERFECT!!! I made up a little story about Robin and Duane. I couldn't wait to give it to her.
I gave it to her one night that the weather "was pretty dreary outside. As usual, I went outside and waited with an "anticipation" hard on to see how she would react. How hard would she cum this time with a "real person" in the story?
She undressed and laid back on her back. As was pretty common, she slowly touched herself, before even turning on the little machine. By the time she finally hit the play button her torso was in a slow undulation from her touch.
Thirty seconds later it was over. As soon as my voice filled the room and "Dr Husband's" name came up, she immediately jerked her hand away from her begging pussy and instantly turned the recorder off. She sat straight up and stared at the thing for a long time. Then she got up and put on an old robe before pressing the buttons again. She put it in a drawer in the night stand.
Staying in her robe, she went straight to bed. I wisely chose not to bother her. That night and the next morning I said nothing about any of it. Neither did she. When I got home that evening I finally had a chance to check out the recorder. The tape recorder was there but the tape itself was missing.
That was the last time we exchanged any tapes. (Or stories) She never made another one for me and I got the point. I had gone too far. Evidently, "Dr Husband" was off limits.
I never mentioned him again. However, the thought of what "might have been" between the two of them excited me beyond words and mentally I couldn't leave it alone.
What the hell. Life goes on!
So did our sex life. After getting the cold shoulder for a week or so concerning the disturbing tape we were back in business. I still cajoled, pried, suggested ... anything to rev her engine. It all still worked. As a matter of fact, after the "tape thing" it was torrid at times. Not every time, mind you ... just certain days. It was if on certain days she was sexually jump started. Wanting to be on top and controlling every thing. Pounding me as if she hadn't had a cock in years. Shoot, I didn't protest!!!
Then ... BOOM!!
A pair of scissors.
I needed them to wrap a Christmas gift for her. She and our son were gone for the night and I couldn't find any. I looked everywhere before I gave in and called her. How silly, but I needed them.
There was a long hesitation on her part. I assumed she was having to remember where they were. Later, looking back, I knew she was instead making an important decision.
Her voice was almost husky, shaking when she gave me guidance.
"Look in my sewing box in our closet."
That was it. I said "thanks." She hung up.
Although she was a novice and didn't sew very well, Robin kept a sewing box in the top of our closet.
She did. I found them. It was when I searching for them that I found something else. All at once the scissors were forgotten!
On top of all of her sewing stuff were three of the little cassettes. They had a rubber band around them and a small folded envelope attached. Each of the tapes were dated. The oldest went back to about two weeks before the Christmas that I was gone. Then there was another one dated a week or so after that. The last was dated the 26th of December of the year that we were separated. I assumed that they were just holdovers from those days past. Souvenirs, so to speak. Memories of difficult yet great times. They might even be ones that I sent her.
The envelope was something else all together. I looked at it. It wasn't sealed. If it had been, I'm not sure that I would have opened it.
I'm glad I did.
There was a note. It was simple. It was in her hand writing.
"Well, you finally found this. I'm beginning to think I will have to guide you to it."
A-a-a-h-h-h!! So THAT'S why her voice was so concerned when she guided me to her sewing box. How long had this stuff been here? Jeez, it could have been years!!
I read on. It took only about ten seconds. The impact would last forever.
"You have been asking me about Duane and myself. From your little story there is more than just a tiny interest on your part. I'm not stupid. What you really want to know is if anything ever happened between the two of us while you were gone."
"Well, be careful for what you wish."
"By the way, they're dated. Start with the first."
I could hardly breathe as I carried them to my bed. I took no chances of running out of power. I took out the old recorder, loaded it with four new AA batteries, inserted the oldest dated tape ... and prayed. I don't know what about. My thumping heart couldn't decide what it really wanted.
I put in the oldest tape and pressed the "play" button.
Disappointment. Fifteen seconds of silence. This was going to be all about nothing. In a way I was relieved. In a way ... disappointed. I laughed. She's jerking my chain ... playing a joke on me.
Then a voice cleared. Words came out. Shaking. Hesitant. Raspy at times. Breathing so heavy it was an obstacle at times. Just hearing her voice was a shock. If the date was correct, it had been five years since the tape had been made. It was amazing how her voice had changed since then. It reminded me that even though I was married to a grown woman now, I had married a young girl.
I sat there for a long time. Once I pressed the 'Play" button I never touched it again. Until the tape ended, that is. Than I did the second one. Then the first again. And the second again. I waited until late that night before I played the third. I'm glad that I did.
As I sat with cum drenched hands I knew that, unlike our little games, this was not a tale. It was an admission of guilt by a young wife who had slipped ... made a mistake. And very obviously she was remorseful.
Not remorseful enough to share it with me, though. I knew I was never meant to touch these tapes. I had forced the issue. I had asked. She had responded honestly.
It was her story. Her admissions.
So, here it is. Ciphered and translated as accurately as I could. It is meant for you to hear:
IN HER OWN WORDS!!!
"Hi. It's six in the morning on Sunday. I've been tossing all night, trying to figure out how to deal with a situation that has suddenly come into my life. I wish you were here so I could explain in person, but if you were here there would be no explaining to do.
So, I'll talk to this machine just like I do so many times each week, but this will never be sent. I just need something physical to remind me of my weakness and it's easier to explain it if I talk rather than write.
Last night we had our Christmas party at Dr Riley's house. I knew what it would be like even before I went because it's always the same. Same people, same over eating, same gossip. It's cold outside so I decided to wear a long denim skirt and a little matching vest that went with it and a plain blouse.
After I took my bath and started to put on underwear, for some reason I pulled out that little silver thong and bra that you like so well. You know the ones. Nothing but little patches of cloth held together by round string. It barely covers my crotch and the tops of my nipples show. I slipped them on and put on my brown boots and boot socks before putting the skirt on.
Then I happened to look up into the mirror on the door. I looked pretty silly, with me wearing that flimsy nothingness and boots up to the middle of my calf. I didn't move, though, and continued to look at myself for a long time. After a while, my hands started moving over my body a little, first my breasts and then down between my legs.
It really felt good, as it always does. My fingers traced my lips very slowly over my thong, making my hips move as if they were trying to get away. I kept on touching, never taking my eyes off the mirror. I realized I had never done this before, and I really felt the sexuality of looking at myself.
I spent at least five minutes doing that, just touching my breasts and clit, not pressing hard or speeding up. I was really getting wet and just ached, but I made myself stop before I came. I was really proud of myself for the self-control because I always cum so easy. As it turned out, when I left for the party a few minutes later I was absolutely on fire. My self-control last night probably is the main reason I have the situation I have this morning.
When I got there, nothing had changed from the past years. Same people, same everything. A little later Duane showed up. I've told you about him, the intern I work with sometimes in the evening. Dr Riley invited him to the party because he is from Indiana and will be spending Christmas alone here this year.
What I haven't told you is that as time has passed we have got to know each other pretty well. Because we work together so much at night, it has gone from being a casual acquaintance to him flirting pretty heavy with me and then to a little innocent touching ... always him, not me.
He knows our situation and that I'm not interested. But, he is a very nice person and really attractive. He has a twin brother back home who is already a dentist. Anyway, we got through the normal white elephant gift exchange and started the goofy games we always play. Last night it was the one where you pass an orange down the line from person to person using nothing but your chin.
It was stupid, but fun. I was standing next to Duane and had to pass it on to him. There is always a lot of body contact, which is why I think the guys like it so much. I tried to pass it to him and there was a lot of body brushing going on. We had difficulty and as it took a while, I felt my nipples become hard as they brushed against his chest.
I was hoping when I stepped back that it wasn't real obvious under that nothing bra. I happened to glance down at him and it was extremely obvious with him. I was embarrassed, tingling all over and becoming even more wet. I wasn't trying to, it was just happening. It's been months since I've been touched like that.
It was about ten and the party was starting to break up. Duane had showed me a lot of attention during the night. I hoped it hadn't been noticed but I doubt it. Not with this bunch and the way they think. I left slightly ahead of him and got into the car, trying to warm it up when he appeared at the window. He said he had to be at work by twelve and wanted to know if I would like to go have coffee with him.
My initial instinct was to say "no." This was not a good idea, regardless how innocent. My nipples were still hard and I suspect he was too. But instead I asked where and I followed him to Denny's. When we got there, instead of him going around a busy corner and parking in their lot, he cut across the movie lot and parked behind Denny's. It was barely lighted, but I followed. He got out and said it was easier to park and go in from there than it was to get onto the other street, and he was right.