I had never cheated on my husband in twenty-three years of marriage, but he was absolutely convinced that I was having an affair and obsessed with the idea of getting me to admit it. The Inquisition had worn on all summer and after spending the last couple months of getting grilled about it on a near daily basis, I found out that he was having an affair of his own.

When I confronted him about it, he insisted that his affair was perfectly justified since I was already having one, and refused to believe that I hadn't. Far from helping matters, if anything, confronting him about his own affair only seemed to have intensified his obsession with getting me to admit to an affair that had never happened; and as the interrogations wore on day after day, I got to thinking that if it was already a forgone conclusion that I was sleeping around, maybe I should just go ahead and do it.

It was about one o'clock one afternoon when the lead man came around telling us we were going home two hours early. At that moment, I happened to be standing by my work bench talking to one of my co-workers who made a comment that I could come over to his place for two hours and nobody would know. He was one of several guys I had fun flirting with during the day, and remarks like that weren't at all uncommon. Nobody took it too seriously and any other time, I probably would have laughed him off; but this time, he happened to be in the right place at the right time. The frustration with the situation at home was reaching the breaking point; I'd had enough and at that moment, something snapped deep inside.

While Ritchie wouldn't have been my first choice in a lover, he was recently divorced and neither of us has had a good romp for a while; plus the fact that he lived just a couple miles out of my way, which meant I could get in and out without arousing a lot of suspicion if I were seen along the way. If nothing else, this was my chance to work off some of the frustration while finally proving him wrong after years of being told over and over that I was fat and ugly and nobody else was ever going to want me. So ... Why not?

Pushing my misgivings aside, I took a deep breath; watching as his eyes dropped to my swelling chest. "Ritchie, today is your lucky day. Meet me in the parking lot and I will follow you home."

After a brief discussion, we exchanged vehicle information and agreed that I would wait for him to drive by, and then follow him home so nobody would actually see us together after work.

I was very nervous as I walked out to the parking lot but at the same time, it was also very exciting; my panties were soaked and I hadn't been so turned on in years. I soon found myself sitting in my car, waiting, with a thousand things going through my head. The raw excitement of what I was planning struggled against the guilt as I sat there wondering if I should (or could) really do this when I saw his car go by.

This was my moment ... Do I follow him home, as promised, or chicken out?

Taking a deep breath, I made my decision and pulled out to follow him.

As we drove to his house, the struggle between guilt and excitement continued. This wasn't the first time I'd thought about it after finding out about his affair, but I had always talked myself out of it before it got this far. As I debated on it, my thoughts kept going back to the advice a dear friend had given me on the subject when I reached the end of my rope a couple weeks earlier: "You can't take it back once it's done, so be sure it's what you really want before you do it," he said. "But if you're going to do it, hold nothing back. You won't feel any less guilty if the sex really wasn't all that great, so give yourself to your lover completely while you're there, even if it's just for an hour. If you're going to do it, don't be afraid to enjoy it. Better to explore every pleasure the two of you can offer each other; then if you feel guilty about it, you'll at least have the memory of the wonderful time you had together."

When we reached his house, he pulled into the driveway while I parked in the street; then followed him into the house. I kicked off my shoes once we got inside, and as he turned to lock the door, I turned around and debated on what to do one last time as my trembling fingers found the front of my jeans.

'This is my last chance to change my mind, ' I thought to myself. 'If I do this, it will change everything. Do I really want to do this or not?'

My head swirled with guilt and frustration, but something had to give. I made up my mind and quickly pulled my jeans and my panties down around my ankles before I had a chance to chance to talk myself out of it again. I stripped off my pants and folded them up before putting them on the kitchen table and turned around to find him standing there watching me.

I froze like a deer transfixed in the headlights as the realization that it was really going to happen this time sank in. I didn't know if he thought I was really serious about having sex with him, especially after joking around about it for so long; and I hadn't been too sure myself; but as I stood there, nude from the waist down, we both knew that now there was no going back. This time, it was really going to happen.

As I remained rooted to that spot, my mind a blur, he moved over to me and taking me in his arms, he kissed me long and deep. My body trembled with excitement as I felt his hands first caressing my bare buns, and then sliding up under my shirt to unhook my bra. Breaking the kiss, he pulled my shirt up over my head; then paused for a moment with his hands gently massaging my shoulders as I bit my lip nervously as he contemplated the fact that he was about to remove my last piece of clothing, leaving me completely exposed and vulnerable.

"I've waited a long time for this moment," he said as he hooked his thumbs in the straps and slipped my bra down over my arms, depositing it on top of the pile of clothes on the kitchen table.

As he stepped back for a better look, I shivered a little at the thought that this was the first time in over 20 years that anybody, other than my husband, had seen me naked ... much less standing naked in their kitchen.

"Patty, you're even more beautiful than I had ever imagined."

I stiffened a little, passionate but unsure, as he cupped my full breasts in his hands; massaging my soft flesh; watching my nipples harden as he flicked his thumbs over them. Then passion began to win out as he began rolling my nipples between his thumb and fingers while gently pulling out at the same time. It was like he knew just what turned me on as he bent down to suck and lick my hard nipples, getting a deep moan of pleasure from me.

The passion grew stronger as our tongues once again intertwined and as I thought about Jamie's advice once again, I surrendered to him completely, causing my doubts and fears to melt away, consumed in the rising flames as a fiery raw passion like I hadn't felt in years overtook me.

I felt his hand move from my breast and begin sliding down to gently rub my clit. In response, I moved my hand down to rub his hard cock through his pants, then dropped to my knees and unzipped his pants. Having released his cock, I leaned forward to lick the swollen head before sliding my lips down his length, taking it as deep as I could into my mouth, tickling the bottom with my tongue as my lips slide up and down his shaft.

Groaning with pleasure, he says, "You keep that up, and I'm going to take you right here on the table."

After contemplating that possibility for a moment, I swirled my tongue around the head one last time before releasing his cock from my mouth. When I stood up, he took me by the hand, and led me to the bedroom, where we lay naked together on the bed, kissing deeply and passionately as our hands explored each other's bodies.

I trembled with pleasure as his hungry mouth moved down from my lips to my heaving breasts; and his fingers moved from my nipples to probe the intimate depths between my thighs. For the first time in months, I felt like a lover to be teased and enjoyed rather than a prisoner to be intimidated into submission. We both knew I was completely his for the taking, ready and willing to pleasure him in whatever way he wanted.

I pushed him over on his back and knelt beside him, gently stroking his cock and balls with my fingertips as he caressed my hanging breasts.

"Is there something you want, Ritchie?" I asked teasingly.

"You know what I want, Patty."

Mike had never performed oral on me; and knowing that Ritchie was as eager as I was, I started kissing my way down his chest turning myself around as I worked my way down until I was licking the head of his cock and his head was between my knees.

As I sucked his cock into my mouth, I shuddered with pleasure as he seized the invitation and I felt him lightly stroking my sensitive buns as his hot tongue began exploring my soft folds, driving me to the edge of an orgasm. I didn't want to climax just yet, so when the sensation became so strong that I was losing control, I lifted up and turned back around with our heads together. Once again sharing a deep passionate kiss, I looked deep into his eyes and said, "Ritchie, I want you to make love to me right now. I need you inside of me"