Anna's Demons
Copyright© 2026 by Paul Darkblue
Chapter 1
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?”
Fix it - Coldplay - 2005
May 2018 - Monday 14th, afternoon
I’m Anna Neri, Italian, 51 years old. For my age, I’m in pretty good shape. I’m 5’4” tall and 110 pounds, with 34C cup breasts (even though they are not as firm as they were in my thirties), a well-proportioned ass, and toned legs. Yes, some signs of my age are visible on my face and body, but I’m pleased to say that even though I don’t put in much effort, I can still make men’s heads turn when I enter a room.
I’m married to Luca, who is two years my senior. We have a son, Marco, 22, and a daughter, Alice, 20. Luca is quite a handsome man. He’s 6’ tall and 175 pounds, with broad shoulders, most of his dark hair still intact with a splash of grey, and deep brown eyes. Many of my girlfriends keep joking that if I ever wanted to give him a “free pass,” they would all be glad to wait in line for a night with him. Nah, that’s never going to happen!
We live in a mid-sized town in northeastern Italy, near Venezia. I currently work as an accountant at the local branch of a mechanical supply company on a part-time, six-hour shift, Monday to Friday, with a short lunch break.
Luca is a software engineer and the general manager of the local branch of a large Italian software company. The local branch develops products and services for internet infrastructure, software monitoring, and cybersecurity. Luca sometimes tries to explain it to me better; he tells me that he oversees a bunch of “ethical hackers,” as he calls his colleagues, whatever that means. Seems like they are very good at their job.
The products and services developed by Luca’s office are highly valued; I think they have contracts with the government and the military, but this is under a sort of NDA, so Luca can’t tell me more about it.
Well, not that it changes anything. I use my computer and smartphone just like any other average user in the world. To me, they are only tools for work and entertainment, nothing more.
Today, I’m home at my usual time, around 4:30 PM, just parking my car in the garage. I’m looking forward to spending the evening and the night with Luca. He will be home in a couple of hours.
Tonight I want my husband back. I’m going to wear the blue sleeveless short dress he loves seeing on me so much. Even more, he loves it when I take that dress off. I will also wear the matching blue lace, skimpy lingerie he gifted me for my past birthday; I’ve never worn it before.
Then, I’m going to cook his favourite dishes: pasta all’amatriciana and tiramisù for dessert. Just after our wedding, I learned to cook these recipes with all the original ingredients and my personal touch, and he loves them. After dinner, I want to sit on the couch close to Luca, talk with him about our workday, share some thoughts about our kids, and laugh together at jokes about our friends or colleagues.
And finally, I want him in bed. I want to make love to him all night long. I need to feel him inside me, and it’s not just about his thick dick that makes me scream with pleasure when he thrusts inside me. When he kisses my body and my lips, when he holds me tight in his arms, his legs between mine, his meat buried deep in me, I feel like we are one: one soul, one life. My heart is filled with joy. I feel like the luckiest and most loved woman in the universe. I can’t imagine my life without Luca at my side, not now, and not in the future.
Today is our 23rd wedding anniversary, and we have been a couple for more than 28 years.
We didn’t plan to have dinner and dancing at a fancy restaurant or club tonight; in fact, things between Luca and me have been quite cold lately, and it’s all my fault.
Actually, looking forward to this day, a few months ago we booked a short trip for this coming weekend to celebrate our anniversary at the resort where we got engaged. That is the place where, for the first time, I had a man inside me, and that man was Luca. I want my romantic weekend; I’m looking forward to it.
But who says we shouldn’t celebrate today, even on a Monday night? I bought him a present: a classic manual-wind watch he had been looking at a few months ago. He loves watches and has a lot of them, some of which are very costly. I’m sure Luca has bought something for me, too; he never forgets an anniversary, a birthday, or any other celebration, not mine, and not our kids’ or family’s.
Well, at least I hope so, as things have been quite complicated in my marriage during the last six months. We haven’t been speaking to each other much over the last few months.
I know I screwed up many things with him lately, but tonight is the night! Tonight, I will beg Luca to forgive my craziness. I will show him all the love I feel for him. I will start to make up to him and commit to him again, forever, and our future years will be exactly as they should be: together.
Six months earlier - November 2017 – Monday 19th, morning
In the past weeks, my employers, Claudio and his wife Giulia, told me they had merger offers from larger companies. Different bigger national players are interested in our business and clients, so they have already received a few offers.
Claudio and Giulia are not only my employers but also close friends of Luca and me. They are a couple of years older than us and have two sons; our kids are friends, too. We’ve attended each other’s weddings and christenings, and over the years, we’ve shared many holidays. We have always gotten along perfectly.
It is Monday morning when I arrive at the office, following a relaxing weekend spent with Luca and the kids. I am called immediately to a meeting in Claudio’s office.
Sitting in front of Claudio, there is a man I’ve never seen before. Even while seated, I can tell he is tall, fit, and handsome. He wears an elegant dark grey suit, likely handmade, over a white shirt, with a blue polka-dot designer tie and expensive Italian black shoes. He stands up and offers his hand. “Hello, I’m Stefano Rossi from New Mechanics.”
As we shake hands, he looks directly into my eyes. He has deep blue eyes and black hair touched with grey. I suppose he is in his mid-forties, perhaps five or six years younger than me. His hands are warm and strong. Shaking his hand makes me feel slightly uneasy; it’s as if a current of warmth is moving from his palm through my entire body.
“Hello, Stefano. I’m Anna Neri, from accounting,” I reply, looking between him and Claudio. “How can I help you?”
New Mechanics SpA is a giant in Italy; the headquarters is near Milano, and I know they are the primary suitors for Claudio and Giulia’s business.
“Well, Anna,” Claudio says, “as you know, Giulia and I have been considering our options for a while, and last week we made a decision. We are selling our company to New Mechanics. Their offer is the best for the employees and for us. I’m signing the contract today and making a statement this morning. The merger is scheduled to be done in the next six months, and Stefano here is the project manager from headquarters who will lead the merger team.
Claudio continues, “For the duration of the project, you will be Stefano’s personal assistant here. You’ll work closely with him, providing all necessary documents and background details about the business and our clients. He will be in town a couple of days each week, usually Wednesdays and Thursdays, and will work remotely from headquarters the rest of the time. This task might require some extra hours from you, but since your kids are away at university, I imagine that won’t be a problem. If the merger goes smoothly, the whole team will receive a 10% bonus of their annual salary. Is that okay with you?”
I am surprised by the news, but I also feel proud of the acknowledgement of my work. Without a second thought, I reply, “Thank you for the trust; I’m honoured, Claudio. I’ll do my best.”
At the same time, a bad seed is being planted in my mind. I can still feel the warmth of Stefano’s handshake. I find myself wondering what it will be like to work so closely with such a handsome, elegant man. Should I put on a little extra makeup? Should I start wearing the kind of elegant dresses I usually save for special occasions?
With these thoughts in my head, though I don’t know it yet, I am beginning to destroy my marriage and my life.
That night after dinner, as usual, I tell Luca everything. The moment I mention the new project manager and my new role in the team, I see something strange in Luca’s eyes. What is it? Concern? Is it because I am looking away instead of directly into his eyes while I speak? Obviously, I keep my thoughts about Stefano’s charm to myself, but I wonder if Luca is somehow reading my mind. Regardless, it is only a moment; then we continue with our usual evening routine, talking until it’s time to call it a night.
Monday is not usually a night for sex, not when you are over fifty, at least, but every night we cuddle, sharing our final thoughts or exchanging sweet words before falling asleep. Tonight, everything seems to be going as usual, yet we both seem to have trouble falling asleep.
December 2017 – Wednesday 15th – late night
Christmas is close. These past few weeks of working closely with Stefano have been both the hardest and the best of my life. Usually, we spend our time with the project team via video conferencing, sharing documents on the screen, highlighting critical points, and making decisions. It’s challenging, but Stefano always asks for my opinion on everything within my expertise, and sometimes even on matters I don’t know in depth. He seems to value my ideas highly.
On Wednesdays and Thursdays, when he is in town, we spend hours working shoulder to shoulder at my desk. We have an enormous amount of paperwork to go through. Our company has nearly thirty years of history, and there is so much to process for the merger. Some of the older documents and contracts exist only in printed form; digital versions simply don’t exist yet.
I feel the warmth radiating from his body. I steal glances at his masculine profile; I look into those wonderful blue eyes ... and I feel lost.
On these days, we always have our lunch breaks together, and just to keep our heads clear of job stuff, we sometimes talk about our lives. He knows that I’m married; I tell him about my kids. I even share some funny or strange stories from my life with Luca and the family, nothing serious or intimate, of course. He tells me he is divorced and has two teenagers who live with their mother. He sees them every other weekend and during scheduled holidays. We talk about how difficult teenagers can be and laugh together. Sometimes, he tells me how lucky my husband is to have such a smart and beautiful wife. I see him flirting with me, and I don’t reject it, and from time to time, somehow, I flirt back with him. I laugh at his jokes, I let him touch my arms gently while he is talking, and I touch my hair while I’m talking to him, staring him straight into his deep blue eyes. I feel flattered; I feel younger; I feel considered as a woman and not only as an employee, a wife and a mother.
Yet I’m terrified of the thoughts and feelings passing through my mind. I don’t want this. I just want to be Luca’s faithful, loving wife.
But today, it happens. Just after our lunch break, when we walk back to my office, Stefano closes the door behind him. Looking straight into my eyes, he whispers, “Anna, working with you has made me realise what a brilliant woman you are. You are one of the most beautiful and smartest women I’ve ever teamed up with. I like you a lot.”
I know what those words imply, and I’m overwhelmed by what I’m feeling. Somehow, I was expecting this moment. I let his words ring in my head without replying; I’m afraid of any word that might come out of my mouth. All I can manage is, “Thank you, Stefano. I don’t know what to say. You know I’m married. We should go back to work, please.” But my words sound weak, and I know it.
He steps toward me and, for the first time, holds me tight in his strong arms. While his deep blue eyes look directly into mine, he says, “I’m going to kiss you right now. If you don’t want this, just say no, and I’ll stop.” Then he lowers his face to kiss my eyelids, then his lips move down to my mouth, pairing my lips slowly, sensually, without rushing.
I have my chance. I should put an end to this right now, but I can’t.
I am lost in those blue eyes; I open my lips and kiss him back. Now, I want him as much as he wants me. The kiss is slow, long, and deep. Stefano is a talented kisser, not better than Luca, but different. It’s as if he can take everything he wants without even asking. While our tongues dance in a deep, passionate kiss, he makes me feel like I want to give him all of myself, and more. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and press my body closer to his. His hands slide down my back to my ass, and I feel his hard erection pressing against my stomach. My pussy starts leaking. I want this man. I know I’ve wanted him from the very first moment we met.
The exact moment Stefano leaves my lips to kiss my neck, sending shivers through my body, I open my eyes, and the family photo on my desk hits me like lightning. There we are, me, Luca, and the kids, in one of our happiest moments. It was taken during a trip to the States a few years ago, with the Statue of Liberty in the background.
Suddenly, I come to my senses and find myself almost screaming. “No. Stop! This is not right. Let me go, Stefano, please, let me go!”
I run to the restroom and start throwing up the lunch I ate thirty minutes ago. I feel sick, physically ill. For the first time after I’ve met Luca, I have deeply kissed a man who isn’t my husband. The thought of what I’m doing to Luca makes me feel really bad. He doesn’t deserve this.
Back in my office, Stefano is gone, as if nothing happened. I leave work, calling in sick. I need to regain some self-control before going home.
In the evening at home, as soon as Luca walks through the door, I throw myself into his arms, kissing him.
“What’s this, Anna? I know you love me, but after so many years together, it still surprises me how much of a loving wife you can be,” Luca says with a smile.
Relieved by his words, I reply, “I’m just feeling the pressure of this project, Luca. After lunch, I threw up and had to leave the office early. I think I ate something bad during my break. I feel better now; please hug me now and keep me close. I love you.”
“I love you too, Anna. Let’s do that, then. Just let me shower and change,” is Luca’s reply.
After dinner, we talk about the project. I tell him a partial truth about the stress and the pressure I’m feeling. The merger could bring layoffs, or people might be forced to relocate to the headquarters to keep their jobs. Obviously, I leave out every detail of my after-lunch weakness. Luca is supportive as always; he is a good listener and can put my thoughts in a different perspective. Occasionally, I have to mention Stefano, his role in the merger, and the tasks we handle together. I try to maintain a neutral tone, as if he were just any other colleague, but I feel like Luca isn’t totally buying it. A couple of times, he asks me if I’m having trouble with Stefano, or if there is something odd going on.
“No, Luca, no trouble at all on that count. Stefano is a good manager. Why would you think otherwise?” My reply is fast. Perhaps it’s too fast; it sounds fake even to me.
In fact, every time I name Stefano, I catch that note of sadness and concern in Luca’s eyes again, the same look from a month ago, but with something more tonight. Coldness, maybe? Rage? I don’t know; it disappears as quickly as it appears.
Tonight in bed, things are wild. I put all my effort into giving him my best blowjob, and I eagerly swallow all his cum; I keep his mouth between my legs until I’m shattered by the first orgasm, then I fuck him, cowgirl, and I ask him to fuck me doggy-style. I want to get rid of Stefano’s kisses and hands, making love to Luca with all my body and my soul. I have some intense and powerful orgasms, as I haven’t had them for a while.
In the end, we are both exhausted, but just as sleep starts to close my eyes, I hear Luca take a deep breath. “I love you, Anna,” he says. “You know that I’m always here for you. If something is bothering you, talk to me. We’ll figure it out together.”
Oh, how much I regret not listening to those words! Instead, the seed planted in my mind a month ago is growing even stronger.
January 2018 - Thursday 25th, late night
The past few weeks have been hard at work. Every day, as we solve one problem, more questions arise from the documents we’re reviewing.
Stefano hasn’t tried anything inappropriate since that day. He keeps flirting lightly from time to time, and I do my best not to react or give him bad signals. Now, when he sits at my desk, he seems to maintain a larger gap between us, often sitting across from me rather than at my side. Every now and then, mostly when we are alone during our usual lunch breaks, he reminds me of what he said a few weeks ago.
“Anna, if you ever change your mind, I’m here for you. You are a wonderful woman, and I’d be honoured to be closer to you, and more. My heart is a bit broken, but I understand and respect your decision to remain faithful to your husband. It makes you even better in my eyes.”
These words somehow feed my ego, and they certainly feed the bad seed planted in my head. But I can keep it under control, or at least I believe I can.
During today’s meeting, Stefano shares some surprising news. The company wants to bring the entire project team together at headquarters for a team-building session. He says it’s time for an in-person meeting for everyone working on the project across the two offices; except for him, the whole team has only ever met via video conference. The visit will be in two weeks, on a Wednesday and Thursday. On Wednesday evening, there will be a small party at a local venue to celebrate reaching the half-project milestone exactly on schedule. Everyone from our town will stay overnight at a hotel near the headquarters, with all costs covered by the company.
In the evening, I tell Luca about the meeting and the scheduled team-building activities. I explain that I will be away for one night, leaving on Wednesday morning in two weeks by train with the whole team from our town and returning late Thursday evening.
For Luca, spending nights away is just part of his job that requires travel, even abroad. It has happened many times throughout our marriage. For me, however, it is completely unusual. I’ve only stayed overnight for work a couple of times while attending training courses for the old company, and even then, I was always with Claudio and Giulia.
I “forget” to mention the Wednesday night party to Luca. I don’t know why. Maybe I’m afraid he will misunderstand the situation or that it will trigger “bad thoughts.” I know I shouldn’t hide this from him; there is nothing wrong with partying with colleagues, right? So why lie? What do they call this? Lying by omission? Yes, maybe that’s it. Since this project started, I’ve got used to that sort of lying.
Or maybe it’s the seed growing in my mind, whispering to me: ‘What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.’
Tonight, those strange shadows in Luca’s eyes return, looking even darker. Yet, he still smiles, but it’s as if his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
When it’s time for bed, I find myself having trouble falling asleep once again.
February 2018 - Wednesday 7th, night
It’s Wednesday night. I’m at the venue for the company party, located on the ground floor of the hotel where our team’s rooms are booked. My mind keeps thinking back to this morning; the images are still fresh.
I was packing the last of my things when Luca entered our bedroom after his shower. On top of my bag lay a party dress, one of those sexy dresses I usually only wear for special evenings with him. It was a crazy shopping purchase, and I did it because I knew he would love it. It’s short, a few inches above my knees, and with a high split on the right side which dangerously reaches the top of my thighs; the upper side is kept together with thin cross straps that leave my shoulders and back basically naked and with a lot of cleavage in full view. I’d only worn it once, at home for Luca; I’d never dared to wear it in public.
Luca looked at the dress, then at me. This time, it wasn’t just a fast shadow in his eyes; I could clearly see concern and rage. “Don’t you think you’ll be overdressed for a team-building meeting?” he asked, his voice cold.
“Luca, what are you thinking?” All my lies were hitting me, but I had to hold my ground. “The other girls and I have seen how the women at headquarters dress, even for video conferences. We don’t want to be seen as ‘country girls.’ We need to wear something just as fancy.”
“So, at the new headquarters, women dress like sluts?”
Those words nearly broke me. In our twenty-eight years together, he had never used that word, not toward me, not toward anyone. Unfortunately, the cab was arriving in minutes, and more importantly, the seed inside my head had grown enough to block my ability to listen or think clearly.
All I could say was, “Luca, don’t you dare use that word with me again. I’m your wife, for Christ’s sake!”
Luca seemed to weigh my words. “I’m sorry, Anna. I didn’t mean to be rude, but I still think you should leave that dress in the closet and choose something more suitable.”
My last words to him were: “You’re overreacting; it’s just a girl thing. Besides, I don’t have time to pick another outfit. I’ll be back tomorrow, and we’ll sort this out.”
I zipped my bag and left the house without the usual goodbye kiss or hug from my husband.
Now, in the evening, I am here in this fancy venue, all dressed up. The dress doesn’t allow me to wear a bra; I put on the small thong that I bought a few days ago just to match this dress for tonight. I sense men’s eyes ogling and checking on my body. I feel like I’m naked, but this doesn’t disturb me; instead, it gives me a feeling of strong confidence.
At the same time, I still feel a wave of sadness; I wish I could be back in my husband’s arms, telling him how I’ve been feeling these past few months, asking for his forgiveness, and putting everything behind us.
Suddenly, a voice comes from behind me. “What is such a stunning woman doing here alone, with that sad look in her eyes? Are you not enjoying the party?”
It’s Stefano. He’s smiling at me, holding a drink in each hand. He is incredibly handsome tonight, almost breathtaking. He is wearing a sporty outfit, a sharp contrast to the business suits I usually see him wear: a fitted white shirt with no tie, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean hips, a casual blue jacket, denim jeans, and trendy sneakers. They are clearly expensive pieces; I recognise the brands and know the outfit likely costs more than the average employee’s monthly wage.
He continues to smile. “Anna, you are wonderful. That dress suits your perfect body like a masterpiece. By the way, this is for you,” he says, handing me one of the drinks while his eyes are stripping me naked.
My sad thoughts begin to fade. We start sipping our drinks and making small talk, commenting on the people around us and laughing together. When the music starts, Stefano takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. I don’t even try to resist. I realise now that this is exactly what I’ve been anticipating since the party was announced two weeks ago. This is the reason I packed the dress I’m wearing. I want to impress Stefano. I want his eyes to be on me again, and only on me.
When we start dancing, I feel his body next to me, and my body reacts with a well-known wetness between my legs.
I switch dance partners every few songs; I don’t want to be seen as exclusive to Stefano, no inappropriate touching, no grabbing, just innocent dancing with colleagues. I don’t want anyone reporting any inappropriate behaviour to my husband if he ever finds out about tonight. I don’t want anyone taking embarrassing pictures or videos that get shared around.
During my last dance with Stefano, I feel exhausted from the early wake-up call, travel, and long workday. I’m ready to call it a night. It’s a slow dance; he keeps his arm around my back, maintaining a respectful distance, while his other hand holds mine. He leans his head to my ear and just whispers, “What’s your room number, Anna?”
I feel dizzy from the dancing. I may have had one or two drinks more than my body can handle. The seed inside me is now fully grown, and now I understand what it is: a demon. The demon of lust that I’ve allowed to grow inside me all these months.
It’s whispering in my mind with hot thoughts: ’Hey Anna, you have been a dedicated wife and mother for almost thirty years; you always put yourself behind your family’s needs. There is no harm in caring about your needs once in a while. You need a new experience now; you need to feel wanted and owned, just like a woman. Stefano is craving you, and it’s just sex; you still love, and you will always love Luca. No one will know or suspect it; you acted carefully all night. Let yourself go! ‘
The fight in my mind is struggling between the demon and my guilt, but the drinks, the dance, the lust win, and I can’t resist anymore. “My room is 416, Stefano. I’ll be waiting for you,” I hear myself telling him.
Thirty minutes later, I’m in my room. I left the party alone, not wanting to be spotted leaving with any male company. All thoughts of Luca have faded, wiped away by the demon. I am only focused on what’s about to happen; I’m already soaked when I hear a knock at the door. “It’s me, Stefano.”
I open the door and throw myself into his arms. We start kissing; his mouth is exactly what I’ve been dreaming of since that first lonely kiss months ago. I forget my husband, I forget my family, I forget everything except here and now.
Our clothes are on the floor in moments. We are naked, and I can’t help but stare at Stefano’s body, toned and fit; he looks like an ancient Greek sculpture. His hard cock stands before me, ready to claim me. I want to kiss every inch of his body. I crave his cock in my mouth; I need his mouth on my clit, on my nipples, on my lips; I want to have him deep inside me.
First, Stefano makes love to me, slowly, driving me to heaven. Then, he starts fucking me mercilessly, for a long, long time. He isn’t bigger; he isn’t a better lover than Luca; he has great stamina, though. The awareness of the forbidden line I’m trespassing on is acting like an aphrodisiac on my mind and body. He is just the second man fucking me, the only one beyond my husband, and this thought feels wrong, and at the same time it’s terribly turning on my sex desire. The demon who owns my mind reclaims his prize and needs to be gratified by more and more fuck. I lose track of my orgasms, and they are the strongest I’ve ever experienced. The entire night is a blur.
I wake up alone the next morning. Everything in the room shows signs of last night’s wild passion. At some point during the early hours, Stefano must have gone away, but I don’t remember when.
My body is still recovering; I feel completely relaxed, satisfied, and fulfilled. I can still feel the remnants of his cum leaking out of me and the taste of his seed in my mouth. Yes, I let him fuck me raw and cum inside. Actually, I begged him to cum inside me, and I remember I was loud. Also, I swallowed his hot, sticky seed. I’m in menopause, so there’s no risk of pregnancy, and I trust that he is clean. In my mind, he’s not the type of man who would go for risky sexual partners.
I need a shower. As the water runs over me, the demon sleeps. I begin to understand the enormity of what happened. I am now officially a cheater, one of those women who break their marriage vows. I always thought of them as sluts, as worthless, stupid women. I deeply despised them, and now I am one of them. I feel sick with guilt. I start wondering how I could ever make it up to my husband.
But as soon as my hand touches my pussy, I feel sore and empty. I begin living back through the feelings of last night. The demon wakes up, and I start to caress my clit. Within minutes, I am masturbating wildly, three fingers deep, craving Stefano’s body, his kisses, and his cock. I have a further powerful orgasm, and I cry. I cry for pleasure, and I cry for shame.
I realise that I am damned. I can’t give up on Stefano. Not now. I need those intense orgasms again as soon as possible. This was not “one-time” sex. I fooled myself, and now the demon is claiming both my body and my soul.
February 2018 - Thursday 8th, night
I’m home from the trip to headquarters in the evening, just before dinner.