Yesterday’s Affair Ch. 02

I had been meeting him almost daily for months…not always for sex, but often. Our friendship had been changed by that afternoon in the van, the memory of my eagerness and willingness — the raw lust — still capable of making my heart pound faster.

It was funny, really, the way it turned out. We had met online, on a day where I was overtired and needed to be sleeping but could not…I chose to chat, to bore myself to sleep. In my wanderings through the rooms, I got chatting with a man who could, in my zombie-state, make me laugh. When the conversation turned sexual, it was banter, it was flirtation, and that was all.

…until he asked if he could call me. Warily, I gave him my telephone number. He called and we chatted for a while, then I ended up having phone sex with him…that was really the beginning of this dangerous folly. We met for the first time the next day at a coffee shop, and we just really hit it off well, after the initial awkwardness and fear. It takes a lot of courage or stupidity to meet a stranger in real life after a phone bone the day before…I was undecided which I was until after the coffee. I chose the location, a part of town I did not know, thinking that he would then think I lived in the area, and that worked.

But then, we found we liked each other’s company. The conversation, the banter, the flirting…it was all so refreshing in my workaholic world. I looked forward to the time spent together. He was married though, like me, so had to be discreet. While my husband knew of our growing friendship, Steve did not want to meet him, and I respected that wish. My husband did not trust him, did not trust that his motivations were not sexual when our first meeting occurred after having phone sex. I stood my ground for months, enjoying the friendship.

It remained at solely friendship until that fateful day at the beach. Oh, I knew he would have fucked me sooner, given the opportunity or option, but I was very clear on my intentions, my boundaries and my limits. He knew where he stood…yet he always hinted. I let it go as flirty banter, but knew he would jump if I ever took the banter seriously. And now I had fucked him, and allowed him to fuck me. Since then, our coffee adventures had become one lust-filled rendezvous after another. Not always did we have sex, more often than not, we did not. But there was always something to set our stomachs fluttering, and there was always the thrill of it. We would meet at the end of a dead end, or in a park and walk…talking, drinking coffee…kissing, fondling, often stripping down in one car or the other to consummate quickly before heading back to work.

Eventually, it led to hotels as the weather cooled…and each time I registered, my cheeks flared with shame, knowing that the staff knew of our illicit liaisons.

Then one day, he stopped at my office. He had never done that before, so I quickly grabbed my coat and met him outside. We had talked a great deal about our careers, since I was frustrated and looking for a change. He too, was frustrated with his business, tired of the politics and looking at options. But he had always respected and obeyed that emphasised rule…never — never! — visit me at work.

As I settled into his car, he told me he had quit his job, and needed time to sort things out. I knew he had planned to quit…he was looking at opening his own business…and had talked to investors about it. I digested the shocking news quickly, and told him to get in touch when he could. With a brief kiss, I stepped from his car and returned to my office, watchful of my staff, ensuring that nobody had seen the kiss or the meeting in his car.

Within two weeks, I had also quit, and then soon after, moved away. I never heard from him again. For years, I wondered…

Eventually, fate had me back in the same city…so I looked him up.

He had not changed his habits in the intervening years. He still played sports three nights a week, he was still in the same industry, with a business of his own. More than that, I hadn’t a clue. But I was about to find out…

I was dressed in tight blue jeans, with a hot pink tee-shirt and a black cardigan. The sleek leather boots I wore had 4 inch heels. A pink NHL cap, bearing the logo of my favourite team, covered my head and partially obscured my face, and a black leather jacket and gloves completed my look. My long blonde hair was tied in a pigtail, which hung from the ball cap and swayed as I walked briskly from my car to the main entrance to the arena.

Inside, the stilettos’ hurried click-click-click-click across the tiles drew the gaze of several hockey fans, hockey moms and hockey wives as I entered the arena rink side.

I took off my coat, and settled onto the bleachers with a large takeout cup of hot chocolate in my hands. And I watched, waiting for the reaction when he saw me in the stands. He still skated well, played well. I had always enjoyed watching him skate. For such a big, cumbersome man, he was quite graceful on skates. With four minutes left in the second period, a tripping penalty was called, and he was sent to the box for two minutes. Stupid penalty, really…the lazy player’s penalty, I used to tease. In the box, he watched the game, and as I stood to head out for the intermission, I saw him look towards me, saw the light of recognition flicker as he realised it was me.

I smiled at him, turned, and continued my pace beside the ice and straight out of the building without looking back.

Outside, I stopped to breathe in the chill air. Now what? Oh, I knew what I had planned, but could I do it? Did I even really want to? I paced the front walkway, lost in thought, then headed inside to grab another hot chocolate and to warm up. I’d made my decision.

I had less than twenty minutes to prepare, really…and my nerves were getting to me. I barely watched the rest of the hockey game, so lost was I in planning the hour ahead. When the final buzzer drilled, I rushed out, ahead of the crowds pouring into the parking lot.

I walked towards my car, parked right beside the sleek BMW. A quick check earlier had told me this was the right sedan…as usual, there were leather dress shoes, a small grooming kit, and a towel in the back seat. I sent two quick texts, then waited, leaning against the driver’s door casually.

My husband was the first to arrive. As he leaned in to kiss me, I turned him so he was against the BMW, then slid down the length of his body until my knees were just above the slushy snow. With my hands still in leather gloves, I undid his belt and jeans, silently pulling his cock free from the boxer-briefs beneath. I heard his sharp intake of breath when the cold hit, and quickly covered him with my mouth.

I worked softly and slowly, knowing I had to wait and be patient for just a little longer. By the time Jennifer arrived, he was thick and hard… he was nearly needing release… I stopped sucking long enough to thank Jennifer for the favour. “No problem,” she replied with a chuckle. “I think I could do these kinds of favours all the time!”

Turning, she gave my husband Mike a soft, lingering kiss hello…then she walked to me; pressing me against the driver’s door of Steve’s precious, pretentious car…she started kissing me as I tucked my hand inside her coat, feeling her breasts beneath the smooth leather gloves.

I knew we didn’t have much time left, before Steve was done in the dressing room. He had always rushed out, and tonight would be no different. Jennifer wore thigh-high boots, accentuating her long legs, but aside from the long, black winter coat, she was naked, and we all knew it.

As she leaned in to undo my jeans, pushing them to my thighs, my husband moved behind her, lifting the jacket, kneading her ass as she began to lick my body in the cold air. Her tongue slowly caressed me, leaving trails of cold across my thighs and stomach, teasing me. I was already squirming from the cold, and her lips had been nowhere near my pussy or clit…

As Mike knelt to taste Jennifer, she became more aggressive with me, grasping my hips and thrusting her tongue against me. My husband’s eyes met mine as he slid his cock into her, forcing a moan against my skin. I smiled, reassuringly. Holding her naked hips beneath the coat, he began to pump into her, rocking her head into my pelvis as she whimpered her pleasure against my clit.

In the cold air, I could feel her long tresses brushing against my thigh with each thrust, cooling me, raising gooseflesh on my thighs. The cold steel against my naked ass was becoming less distracting as I began to build towards climax under her tongue’s ministrations.

Faster and harder, Mike pumped his cock into her, and faster and harder her tongue drew its circles against my clit. As she began to moan louder, I felt the sudden cold of her hand as her fingers sought my pussy, first one, then two entering me.

My moans began then, as she matched the rhythm of my husband’s fucking with her fingers inside me. Briefly, I was thankful that Steve always parked so far away from the rest of the players and audience, because I knew we were getting louder, and knew that the sound would travel in the crisp night air.

My husband was getting close, I knew, from the growing grunts as he thrust his hips forward into Jennifer’s pussy. Jennifer, too, was getting louder. She was in the mood for more, and I chuckled as she demanded that he slap her ass, play with her ass.

Oh, he liked her for a reason! She was my opposite, and on nights like these, he had the best of both worlds, and had been enjoying these nights now for almost a year. As the night exploded with the echoed “smack” of his palm on her ass, she let out a yelp, begging him for more, harder.

Her fingers worked furiously, pushing into me and withdrawing roughly, repeating intensely. She moved her mouth from my clit, ordering me to finger my clit, while looking over her shoulder to watch my husband pound harshly into her, slapping a cheek of her ass with each thrust, turning her pale skin a light shade of pink.

I moved my hand down my body, finding my clit…moaning with pleasure at the touch. Jennifer reached behind her, moving Mike’s hand to her ass. “Fuck my ass, Mike! Please! Now!” He began to finger her ass, spitting on it, sliding a finger in…then slowly pulling it back out. Jennifer wanted nothing to do with his care…she began to thrust her ass onto his hand, exciting him as he pulled his cock from her pussy, sliding it with ease to her wet ass.

I watched in awe as he thrust his cock in swiftly, releasing a loud groan of pleasure. He grabbed her hips, as she thrust back and forth against him roughly, pushing him as deep into her ass as he would go. They began to fuck furiously, and I matched my rhythm on my clit to them as I enjoyed the show…I closed my eyes, tilted my head back to listen.

As their mixed cries became louder, I knew that they would both cum shortly, and I opened my eyes to watch. As I brought my head level, I spotted Steve, standing quietly in front of my car, watching. I pretended I had not seen him, encouraging them both on with my words.

Jennifer’s moans were guttural as Mike told her he was close to cumming…asking where she wanted his cum. “On my face, fuck, I want you to cum all over my face so that I can taste you!” He chuckled, telling her he would only cum on her face if she came around his cock shoved into her ass…he bent into her, thrusting her into me, as his fingers found her clit.

Quickly she came, talking dirty to him, directing him to fuck her ass, to treat her like a slut, to fuck her hard…then she collapsed to her knees before me, begging him for his cum on her face…He moved over her, aiming at her face, quickly stroking his cock. The cum shot forth, most landing on Jennifer’s face, with one shot hitting Steve’s car behind her.

Still, Steve remained silent. Mike moved to Jennifer, gently lifting her to his kiss, tasting the cum off her lips, thanking her quietly. My hand slowly circled my clit as I watched the tenderness…and that is when Steve stepped forth between the cars.

I felt a rush of fear, worrying that he would say something, admitting our old, secret relationship, but he did not. He cleared his throat, and excused himself for interrupting. My husband chuckled at the appreciative look on his face, asking if it was his car. Steve admitted that it was, as he moved closer, taking in my state of unsatisfied desire, and the glazed, pleased expressions on Jennifer and Mike’s faces.

His eyes searched mine as Mike apologised and offered to pay for the carwash. I averted my gaze, noticing the hard-on that Steve was sporting beneath his slacks. Steve declined, thanked Mike for the show, and joked that it really was his pleasure. As he got into his car, I removed my ass from it, stood, bending slightly to pull my thong and jeans to my waist, knowing I was baring my ass to him inside the car. I heard his window open, heard, as I turned my back and walked away, him joke with Mike about volunteering if he ever needed a wingman.

Dressed, I walked around my car, getting in to start the ignition to warm it up, leaving Mike, Jennifer and Steve bantering while Steve’s car also warmed up. I watched as Jennifer kissed Mike goodnight, and took her leave.

Shortly thereafter, Steve pulled away and Mike got into the passenger side, telling me that the man had been interested in me, thought I was a hot wife, if I ever wanted him to join us for a night… He took the piece of paper with a phone number scribbled on it and placed it in the console between us. I didn’t even look at it, knowing that it would be a number I once knew quite well. “No, thanks, Hun…I don’t think he is really my type…”

I left the arena’s massive parking lot with a small smile of satisfaction and drove home.