But I'm Married - Cover

But I'm Married

by WaywardOne

Copyright© 2008 by WaywardOne

Erotica Sex Story: Take a bachelor who has a firm rule that he never flirts with married women, put him together with a faithful wife who is devoted to her husband, and what do you get? Fiery passion, in this case. Both of them are trying desperately to control their emotions, but will they succeed? And what about her beloved hubby?

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Heterosexual   Group Sex   Slow   .

What is it that makes a man and a woman catch fire the moment they set eyes on each other? I've heard it called hormones, or pheromones, or just the accidental coinciding of two vulnerable personalities. I'm a scientist, but not in the life sciences, so I don't understand that kind of stuff. What I do know now is that it really happens, because it happened to me.

Jan had just been hired, and her manager was taking her around to introduce her to all the people she might be working with. I felt it the instant our eyes first met, but of course I tried my damnedest to keep from showing anything. I couldn't see any visible sign in Jan's face, either, and yet I somehow knew that it had hit her the same way it hit me.

Weeks later we talked about that morning, and she confirmed my suspicion. She also said she had thought the same thing I had, that she couldn't see anything in my face, but she somehow knew it had hit me too.

I was in development and she had been hired in documentation, so we weren't going to be working especially close to each other, though we would have some contacts. For about a minute, during that first meeting, my mind was reeling with possibilities. I'm single, but I make it rule not to date anyone on my team. Her job was far enough away that the rule didn't apply. Then I saw the rings on her left hand, and rule #2 took over. I'm not the kind of guy who hits on married women.

I managed to avoid her completely for a week, but then I was looking something up in our manual to prove a point to a team member and I spotted an error that had been there for who knows how long. Normally I would have just sent an e-mail about it, but I talked myself into believing that this one needed to be handled in person. Which is how I ended up standing in front of Jan's cubicle.

"Hi, Jan," I introduced myself, "You probably don't remember me, but I'm on the WhiteWolf development team. My n..."

"Your name is Ron," she cut in, "of course I remember you."

"That's amazing! Do you really remember the names of all the people you met that morning?"

She flushed. "No, I, well, I, I was sort of guessing. You mean I really got it right?"

OK, score one for her for a quick recovery. But she obviously did remember my name, and there was something special about that for her, and she nearly panicked when she realized her secret was out. Oops, we're staring into each other's eyes again. Time for a quick recovery on my part.

"Sorry to interrupt you, but I spotted an error in our manual. Would you be able to take notes on it, and see that it gets fixed in the next revision?"

No question, that was a definite sigh of relief. I wonder what she was thinking I might be here for?

"Sure, I can take notes, and see that something gets changed," she said a bit hesitantly, "but I hope you don't think I understand all this stuff yet. I could easily mess it up."

I chuckled, "I'll let you in on a secret. Even I don't understand all this stuff yet, and I'm supposed to be the team leader."

"Yes, I remember," she whispered, looking down at the floor. "But I think you're putting me on." She was looking into my eyes again. "People say you know more about WhiteWolf than anyone."

"No, I'm not putting you on." You don't know it, I thought, but there is no way I would dream of trying to pull anything over on you.

"WhiteWolf is a very complicated project, and no one really understands it completely. But don't worry, we always go through a review cycle for manual revisions. If you should mess it up, not that I think you will, we'll have plenty of time to correct it." God, how I loved looking into her eyes.

"Yeah, but, since you are so special ... I mean since you are such a key part of the team, I want to do everything for you exactly the way you want it. I mean ... I guess I feel that way about my job in general. You guys are the real power here, I'm just here to help you ... express yourself ... yourselves."

Cool it, Ron. Rule #2. Besides, even if I wanted to take this further, this cubicle isn't exactly the most private place. Which led the devil in me to make a most improper suggestion.

"Look, I know you want to get off to a good start here, and it can be embarrassing to have some goof show up in a formal review, so if you'd like, you can bring your updated text by my office so I can look at it first." I almost added "privately" but thought better of that.

"Oh, would you? That would be wonderful." I could swear that was adoration I was seeing in her eyes. "But first," she suddenly switched to a businesslike faint smile, "you need to show me where the problem is."

That I was happy to do, and the rest of our brief meeting was totally above board.

The next day, shortly after lunch, I heard a tap on my open door and turned away from my computer screen. It was Jan. I smiled broadly and invited her in. I'd been waiting all day for this, hoping she would show up. One of the perks of being a team leader is that I have a real office with a real door that can be closed for complete privacy. But this time I decided it would be best to leave it open. Our conversation would still be private so long as we kept our voices reasonably low, and the chance that someone might stop by would keep me from trying anything inappropriate.

I don't have a desk in my office; just a work counter along two walls. Jan came over beside where I was sitting so she could give me the sheet of paper in her hand.

"Here," I offered, pulling a second chair out from the counter, "sit down so we can look at this together."

She seemed to hesitate, but finally did as I asked. I read her change through and pointed out one word which was grammatically correct, but not in line with the specialized terminology in our industry. Then I looked up and found her anxiously looking at me for approval.

"It's very good, Jan, very good indeed," I said, smiling as I looked into her eyes.

"Jan," I added after a moment, "I think we need to talk about something."

She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. "Yes, Ron, I know. But Ron, whatever you're thinking, and whatever I'm thinking, we have to remember," and here she raised her left hand and rested the fingertips against her cheek, "I'm a married woman, and I want to keep it that way."

"I know, Jan. I'm not married, but I make it a rule to never, ever, interfere with the life of a woman who is. But I do have to say ... if you weren't married, I would have been hounding you for a date the entire week you have been here."

"No, Ron, not exactly. Because if I weren't married, I would have long since said yes, and we would have already been on a date ... if not more than one."

"But that," she said, getting up suddenly, "is the subjunctive and, as my English prof would say, we don't live in the subjunctive. I think I'd better go, now."

"Jan," I stopped her halfway out the door, "we both know what we cannot, and must not, do. But I desperately want to have a chance to talk to you. Could we meet in the cafeteria for lunch sometime soon?" To try to coax her I added, "That's completely public and completely safe."

"I, I, I'd like that," she stammered. "I can't do it tomorrow, but maybe on Thursday?"

"OK, I'll send you an IM a little after twelve, and then," I grinned, "we can sort of accidentally end up there at the same time."

"It's a deal." She winked at me and was gone.

Over the next two weeks we had lunch together, not every day, because that would have been too obvious, but about half a dozen times. Thank god for IM. It let us vary the time we met from day to day, further masking what we were doing.

We both knew, and talked openly with each other about knowing, that what we were doing needed masking. It was almost like a virtual affair. As if we were making love to each other with our half-whispered words, covered by the background noise of the cafeteria. We talked about everything: life, and love, and our dreams, and what we had accomplished so far. I came to know her parents, and her sister, and her husband whom she loved very much. I opened up about my troubled childhood, and my loneliness, which I had locked deep inside myself, living a seemingly carefree life.

We were the best of friends, but friends who desperately wanted to be lovers, and knew it would never happen.

One night I worked late, as I often do, and it was dark as I made my way out to the parking lot. The lot was not very well lit, but by that time of the evening the mass of cars had thinned out, so I never had any problem finding mine. Suddenly I saw a too-familiar figure in front of me, and my stomach did a flip flop.

"Jan, is that you?"

She whirled around. "Oh, thank god, Ron, I was so scared! I heard footsteps behind me, but I was afraid to look. I have never left this late, and I don't think I ever will again."

"You're right, you shouldn't. Let me walk you to your car."

"Yes-s-s, P-p-please."

She was shivering with fright, so I did the only thing I could do. I took her hand to comfort her. She gripped my hand convulsively.

"Where's your car?"

"It's over there somewhere," waving with her other hand, "it's a red Datsun."

"It probably won't look red in this light, but we'll find it."

We did, of course, and she sagged against it in relief. Then, to my great surprise, she released my hand and wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Oh, Ron, thank you, thank you," she exclaimed in my ear, with her cheek pressed against mine. I couldn't resist, and reached around her waist, pulling her shivering body to mine.

"Oh, yes, oh, yes," she breathed, clinging to me.

This was the way we were meant to be, our bodies melting together. I knew it, she knew it, we both knew we never wanted it to end. Reluctantly I finally pulled my cheek away from hers, and we stared into each other's eyes. There was no way we could have stopped what happened next. Our mouths came ever so slowly closer together until ZAP! They met and the fireworks began.

Some indeterminate time later she finally had the strength to pull away.

"Oh, Ron, oh my darling Ron, I'm married, Ron, I'm married! We can't go on like this."

"I know, Jan, I know. You'd better get in the car, now, and we'll have to pretend this never happened."

"Yes, Ron, but first, just one last kiss, our last one forever."

Man, was that ever passionate. Our tongues were thrusting deep into each other's mouths and our pelvises were thrusting together.

I realized I was about to come in my pants, and I knew I had to stop this, so I pulled away.

"Good-bye, my love. Now get in the car and drive home to Bill, and make mad passionate love to him tonight. Promise?"

She was fumbling with the key now. "Yes, I promise. But, Ron ... one thing I won't promise, is to pretend this never happened. I'm going to remember this night as long as I live."

"Yeah, me too, Jan, me too."

I decided it would be best if I didn't send her a lunch IM the next day, or the day after that. On the third day I was debating with myself on the way to work. I wanted to see her so much! Did I dare? I had only just gotten my system up and connected when she took the lead:

Jan - Dinner tonight, 6PM our house. Be there!
me - R U sure this is a good idea?
Jan - Bill wants to meet you. Promise you'll come?
me - You really want to do this?
Jan - YES!!
me - OK where is it?
Jan - 3781 Elm. BE THERE!!
me - OK, OK, I'll be there.
Jan - I can't wait!!


'This has got to be the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life, ' I thought as I turned onto Elm street. 'It's going to be a disaster, ' I told myself as I caught an address on the 3400 block.

I very nearly turned around at the next corner, but Jan had been so sure she wanted me to come, and I had promised her. She would be furious with me if I backed out now.

Ah, there was the house. I parked at the curb and made my way to the door with a huge weight in my stomach. 'You can do this, Ron, ' I nearly said aloud as I reached for the doorbell. 'Do it for Jan, ' were my thoughts as I waited for someone to open the door. 'Please let it be Jan, ' as the door started to open.

A man stood there smiling. "Come in, Ron, I'm Bill."

"Oh, hi, Bill. I really don't feel like I should be here, but Jan insisted. Is she... ?" I was peering around his head at the empty room behind him.

"Nonsense, you're very welcome here. I told her to invite you."

'Right, sure, ' I thought. 'You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what I was doing with your wife just three nights ago. Maybe I should tell you right now and watch that silly smile disappear from your face.'

By now he'd grabbed my right hand with his and shaken it, then pulled me into the room. As he closed the door behind me he nodded toward the sofa.

"Sit down over there while I get you a drink. What would you like?"

I'd already anticipated that question on the way over, and had decided I didn't need anything that might cloud my better judgment.

"Nothing, thanks, I'm not much of a drinker."

His grin got wider. "Me either. But wait, I forgot to answer your question. Jan's in the kitchen, just finishing up dinner. She said she'd call us when it was ready."

We stared awkwardly at each other for a moment. I finally decided I should say something.

"I'm trying to remember, Bill, if Jan told me what you do. Something about houses, maybe?"

I knew perfectly well that he was a architect, and designed homes for some very rich people. But I didn't want him to know how much time his wife and I had spent together.

"Well, yes, it is about homes. I'm an architect, and I specialize in designing custom homes."

That gave us something to talk about. I commented that their home seemed to have some special touches, and he shrugged, saying it was just a tract home, but he had tried to do a few things to it. That led to him showing me some of the things he had done, and the time went much more quickly than I had expected.

Suddenly I heard Jan's voice behind me, "Ron! I'm so glad you're here."

I turned around and her eyes fired a passionate hello as she took my hand in both of hers.

"Has Bill been bragging about his changes around here? Actually," she amended, turning to him and giving him a quick kiss, "I'm very proud of the changes he's made. Don't you agree he's very talented?"

I nodded, and she went on, "but now, guys, it's time to eat. Come join me in the dining room."

Wow, she had gone all out. Linen tablecloth, silver serving dishes, cloth napkins, beautiful goblets. It was a round table, and I had expected that she and Bill would sit opposite each other in traditional host and hostess positions. But Jan had pulled a little switch on that, putting Bill and me opposite each other, and herself between us, on the side nearest the kitchen.

The food was nothing special, and the dinner conversation wasn't exactly scintillating, but we did manage to get through the meal without any long embarrassing silences. After we had finished the sherbet that Jan brought out for dessert, Bill suggested we could all work together to help Jan clean things up, but Jan panicked.

"No way! I don't want Ron to see what the kitchen looks like right now. You guys go back in the living room, and I'll just take a minute to clear the table. Then I'll join you, and I have something serious to talk about."

Oh, oh. Here it comes. Is she really going to tell Bill what's been going on between us? This could get very nasty.

By now Bill and I were back in the living room, and it suddenly hit me that the only furniture to sit on was that sofa where he and I had been talking earlier. It was a big sofa, but I knew he wouldn't sit down next to me, and that meant when Jan came in she would have to sit between us. Indeed I sat at the left end of the sofa and he sat at the right end. Then we just sat there, saying nothing, each thinking our own thoughts.

Fortunately Jan didn't take long to clear the table, and she soon bounced into the room. Yes, bounced was the term for it. She was positively giddy. We'd each had one glass of wine during dinner, but that wouldn't have been enough to do that to her, unless she had snuck some more behind our backs. Anyway, she sat down between us, turned and grinned at Bill, then turned and grinned at me.

"Now, about that serious conversation. Actually," she giggled, "I don't feel serious at all. I feel high as a kite."

"I think maybe you are high as a kite," Bill observed. "You haven't by any chance been drinking more of that wine in the kitchen, have you?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm not drunk. I haven't had anything except the one glass of wine during dinner. I'm just very happy, being here with the two men I care most about."

Ouch! I couldn't see Bill's face, but that had to hit him hard.

"Ron," she said, turning toward me, "Bill and I had a long conversation last night, and I told him about the parking lot Monday night."

"Don't look so scared," she went on, seeing my face, "he took it very well. Didn't you, hon?"

"I'll admit," Bill put in, leaning forward so he could look at me, "that I was shocked at first, but after a bit I realized this had to be really hard for Jan to tell me. And then it hit me that she was doing it because she didn't want to hide anything from me."

"I told him I thought he should know that I was very attracted to you, but that I loved him very much, and I didn't want to lose him, and I would do anything to keep him. I also said I could, and would, control the feelings I have about you."

I nodded my agreement. "That's right, Bill, I don't know how many times she has said 'I'm married' to me. And while I'm at it, Bill, I have to tell you that I'm very much attracted to Jan, but I've been trying to resist those feelings. I don't believe in messing around with married women, and I certainly don't want to wreck your marriage. What we did Monday night was wrong, and I promise you it will never happen again."

"Not," I added when I realized what I'd said, "that we made love, or anything like that. I know Jan would never cheat on you that way. But we did go further than we should have."

"I know, Ron, Jan told me everything. So I know you were kissing very passionately at the side of the car, but you didn't get in with her. I also know that you were the one who called a halt to the last kiss, and helped her into the car, and then," at this point I saw a smile flicker over his serious face, "you said she should come home and make love to me." Now his eyes were on her. "And we did. Oh, god did we ever! We made mad, passionate, love for hours that night. And Tuesday night. And last night we made love as soon as we got home, and then talked after dinner, and then made love again before we talked some more."

Jan broke in, "And you're not going to believe what Bill told me last night. He told me -- didn't you Bill -- that it would be OK if you and I kissed again, so long as he was right there to be sure it didn't go too far. So I want to do it, right now." and she leaned toward me.

"Oh, god, Jan, you know I'd love to kiss you, but I don't think Bill really meant it. And I do mean what I said; I don't want to do anything more to hurt your marriage."

"What do you mean 'anything more'?" came Bill's voice from behind Jan's head, as her face filled my view. "Man, I just told you. The last three days our sex has been hotter than anything since our honeymoon. If you kissing Jan can do that, I'd say you're the best thing that's ever happened to our marriage. So go ahead and kiss her!"

"See?" Jan said in triumph. "Now you know why I was so insistent this morning," she whispered just before her lips met mine.

I still felt this wasn't right, and I couldn't totally get into it, but it sure felt wonderful to have Jan's body melting against mine again. For her part, Jan wasn't holding back. She had rolled toward me and was pressing her thigh against mine, while her breast was rubbing against my rib cage. Her mouth was open and her tongue was probing against my lips. I finally granted it entry and she began stroking in and out of my mouth. The lady was on fire.

"Do I get a turn now?" Bill finally asked.

"Oh, yes darling!" she grunted as she rolled away from me and toward him.

Her kisses seemed just as passionate in that direction as they had been a moment earlier with me. He slipped a hand down to rub her ass, to which she responded by bringing her knee up onto his lap and thrusting her crotch against his thigh. She was wearing a skirt, which was now pulled up exposing most of her thigh. I was staring, mesmerized, my cock throbbing.

Finally she pulled away from his mouth and whispered something in his ear. He nodded, and she rolled back to me. I knew better than to put my hand on her ass, but that didn't keep her from pulling her knee up onto my lap and pushing her crotch rhythmically against my thigh. And that wasn't the half of it. Her thigh, thrown across my lap, was grazing my cock through my pants, and as she moved her ass back and forth her thigh was lightly rubbing my inflamed member. Bill no longer existed for me. My mouth was open and my tongue was dueling with hers.

I could hear her starting to moan quietly inside my mouth and finally realized there was a hand between her breast and my chest. Bill had rolled over against her back and was working her tit though her blouse. I felt another hand work its way between us, and now he was squeezing and pinching both of them. Jan was out of control, pounding her pussy against my leg and kissing me wildly.

"Come to daddy," Bill whispered in her ear, and she obeyed.

 
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