Words - a Sequel - Cover

Words - a Sequel

by SBrooks

Copyright© 2018 by SBrooks

Drama Story: A sequel to "Words," by Jezzaz, written with his permission. Kristi's story.

Caution: This Drama Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cheating   .

This is a follow-up to Jezzaz’s “Words,” written with his permission.

Thanks to Jezzaz for allowing me to use his characters, to Bebop3 for an early read and valued suggestions, and of course to my Sweet Inspiration blackrandl1958 for her editing and advice.

I still don’t know how it happened, or more accurately, why I allowed it to happen.

Mike was right. I didn’t “just” fall in love with James.

It started out innocently, at least on my part, with the occasional lunch or a drink after work. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but looking back, I don’t believe that James intent was innocent.

James was attractive, not appreciatively more than Mike, just different, and his charisma just drew me in until I was caught like a fly in a spider’s web. I know now, and SHOULD have known then that I should have broken away from James, but hey, it was all innocent fun, right? What was the harm?

The harm was that we were developing a relationship, just as any new couple does. There was just one problem; I was already in a relationship, with Mike, my husband, and had no business getting into a relationship with another man.

It began with the gentle grasping of my elbow as we left the office, which progressed to an arm around my waist. Soon, we were sharing little jokes, first about the people in the office, but then I was telling him about Mike and his Jedi Mind Tricks as I called them. James would give a knowing chuckle at the jokes, and roll his eyes along with me when I got snarky about Mike.

Soon, we were exchanging “friendly” kisses and were growing closer emotionally, and if I wasn’t making a conscious decision, each time we took a step closer to infidelity, I certainly wasn’t doing anything to stop, either.

The turning point came when Mike was off on a trip doing his Jedi Mind Trick thing, and James talked me into dinner, with drinks and dancing to follow. We had already “progressed” from “friendly” kisses on the cheek to lingering kisses on the lips. No tongue, but it was obviously just a matter of time, yet I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I know it sounds stupid and self-serving now, but somehow it felt that it was okay just because there was no tongue.

I didn’t feel like it would really be that much different than our lunches, never considering the loosening effect of alcohol.

A cocktail before dinner, a couple of glasses of wine with dinner, and I was already working on a good buzz before we even reached the club.

We started out innocently enough, another cocktail, a few dances, nothing untoward during the slow dances.

We were taking a break when James began his more overt seduction.

“Kristi, you have to know how I feel about you,” he said. “You must feel the connection we have.”

I knew even then that it was a line, despite my alcohol clouded judgement, but it stroked my ego, even as I tried to deflect it.

“Now, James,” I said giggling, “You know I’m married, I could never cheat on Mike.”

Even as I said the words I could feel my resolve weakening, my pussy getting damp at the thought of another man desiring me.

As the evening wore on, there were more drinks, the slow dances got more intimate, and my efforts to move his hands to more respectable locations became weaker and weaker before disappearing altogether.

A slow dance ended with my arms around his neck and his hands firmly cupping my ass. I looked up at him as he leaned down to kiss me on the lips, all pretense abandoned as our tongues dueled.

James tried to get me to go to his apartment, but enough of my brain cells remained intact to enable me to realize that would be a serious mistake.

Each time Mike went away, it would be the same thing. Dinner, drinks, dancing, soon we were making out in the car. Again, for all my claims later that we “just fell in love,” the simple fact was that I kept making the decision to meet with James. I knew it was wrong and I wasn’t a passenger along for the ride, I was an active participant.

I had been teetering on the edge for weeks. James was increasing the pressure on me to go further, and I finally gave in, offering no further resistance as James brought me to his apartment. As we left a trail of clothes from the door to the bedroom, I was momentarily distracted by Mike’s ring tone on my phone. I composed myself before answering, and we exchanged our usual endearments before disconnecting the call.

If I was thinking rationally, I would have taken the call as a sign from above, gotten dressed and gone back to my everyday life.

Unfortunately, James took that moment to start nibbling on my neck. I leaned my head back, purring, and before I could give it any further thought James had my top and bra off and was playing with my sensitive nipples. I moaned in frustration when he moved down my body to remove my skirt and panties, but was soon moaning in pleasure as he went down on me, bringing me to a quick orgasm.

James stood up, took off his clothes and I was immediately drawn to his cock. It really wasn’t anything very special about it, except that it was “different.”

I was soon sucking it down, not quite deep-throating, but probably more than I usually did for Mike. He was soon filling my mouth with cum, and I swallowed with a smile, licking my lips.

My pussy needed more attention, so I sucked James back to hardness and we were soon fucking as if our lives depended on it.

I’ll make it clear right now that James wasn’t any sort of a “Love God.” There was no particular difference in cock size. He was a competent lover, again nothing that would drive me to pack my bags and run away with him, just different. It was obviously exciting, but I’m sure that was mainly due to the illicit nature of what we were doing.

As soon as I recovered my power of rational thought I panicked. I jumped out of bed, ignoring James’ pleas to return, got dressed and fled.

When I got home I stripped and threw my clothes into the laundry, I actually threw out my underwear. I hopped in the shower and scrubbed myself raw, as if cleaning myself physically could remove my guilt.

I managed to haul my ass in to work, where I was pretty much useless. I ignored James’ calls and texts, then went home to a forgettable dinner. I couldn’t believe what I had done. I had cheated on my husband, the man I loved more than anything.

I both dreaded and prayed for Mike’s call, and managed to maintain an aura of normalcy.

Life went on the next couple of days. I was still avoiding James, then Mike came home from his trip.

I nearly attacked him when he came in the door, dragging him into the bedroom and ravishing him. I’m sure he wondered what had come over me, but the shit-eating grin on his face indicated that he really didn’t care!

As our life returned to normal, I got complacent. My fling with James hadn’t affected our marriage at all, I thought. I reconnected with James, though I made sure to keep it platonic at first. As time went on, we once again started getting closer.

The next time Mike went away found me once again in James’s bed, this time for the duration of Mike’s trip.

I was getting over-confident. I was having my cake and eating it, too. I had my loving husband whom I adored; when he was out of town I had James, and nobody was getting hurt.

Then James decided to screw things up. He started to get possessive, and wanted more than I was able to give him.

“Kristi, I’m falling in love with you, and I hate this sneaking around. Isn’t there anyway that we can see more of each other? Only being able to see you when Mike is away is killing me.”

“Now, James, I’m very fond of you, too.” I could see his disappointment that I didn’t also say “love.” “My marriage is important to me, if seeing you puts my marriage at risk, you’re history.”

That made him back off for a while, but I found my feelings for him were growing stronger. I came to believe that I was in love with James. Maybe not quite the same feelings of love that I felt for Mike, but I rationalized that as being due to my longer history with Mike.

Eventually, James wore me down. He was able to convince me that our love, while maybe not equal to mine and Mike’s, had similar value, and deserved similar respect. We decided that it was time to come into the open.

This brings me to that fateful meeting that Mike described in his story, where he quite forcibly made me see the fallacy in my thinking. All the flaws, large and small, in the convenient story I had built for myself, cloaking my treachery, but it was far too late. Mike tossed us out, and to my horror, flushed our rings down the toilet.

James was SO pissed!

“That asshole! If he thinks he can sucker punch me and get away with it, he’s crazy! I’m gonna call the cops, then he’ll be laughing out of the other side of his face!”

“No, James,” I said, “I can’t let you do that. I love Mike. I hope when he cools down we can still work things out, but right now he is hurting. We have hurt him, and I refuse to add to his hurt.”

“What do you mean, you can’t let me do that?” he said. “You saw what he did! It’s bad enough that he probably broke my nose, but he sucker punched me. I never even had a chance to defend myself.”

“I know, James, but it’s really my fault. I probably shouldn’t have had you with me, I really didn’t think he’d take it so badly. I really thought I had everything figured out.”

“I guess there were a few things you forgot about,” James said sadly as he put his arm around me, trying to comfort me. “Mike’s just an asshole for treating you like that.”

“He’s not an asshole, James. He’s a kind loving man, and he feels that I have betrayed him. Come, let’s get you to the ER. Just remember: You tripped and fell on your face, got it?”

He wasn’t happy about it, but James agreed and I took him to the hospital. We got some doubtful looks from the staff; maybe they would have given us a harder time if I was the one with the broken nose. In the end, they were busy enough that they decided that they had better things to do than to argue with an adult over his own injuries.

After he was patched up, I took James home and put him to bed. I slept on the not TOO uncomfortable couch so that I wouldn’t accidently hit his nose in my sleep, hoping that when I woke up this would all have been just a terrible nightmare. I know it sounds cold, but I was glad to get away from James for the night. I spent some time just staring out the window, hoping against hope that I could still reconcile with Mike without giving up James. Was that really too much to wish for?

No such luck, as I woke up with the previous day’s events all too fresh in my mind. What was I going to do now? I couldn’t, I wouldn’t lose Mike, but it appeared that the decision had been taken out of my hands.

Then another thought hit me; we were supposed to meet my family for lunch that day. How was I going to explain Mike’s absence? I had no realistic hope that he might show up.

I took a shower, got dressed, left James with some Ibuprofen and headed over to my parents’.

My family is nothing if not perceptive, and noticed both Mike’s absence and my miserable mood.

My mother was the one who chose to address the elephant in the room.

“Where’s Mike? Is he all right?”

“Well, sort of,” I said, not looking her in the eye.

“‘Sort of’?” she asked, “What kind of an answer is that?”

“Um, we had a bit of a fight last night, and he threw me out. I spent the night at a friend’s place.” I couldn’t tell her that it was a male friend.

My brother hit the ceiling.

“He did what? I’ll show him that he can’t do that to my little sister.”

 
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