Cheating

He was going to cheat.

Cheat. That was the right word. He was going to have sex with a woman who was not his wife. He was going to fuck her. His wife would not know. Yes, cheat was the right word.

He considered himself to be happily married. They had been married for twelve years. They had the standard two children, one boy, ten, and one girl, seven. They were good students. He was proud of them.

His wife was pretty. She wasn't model material but had firm, medium-sized breasts. She exercised three times a week to keep her tummy trim. Her complexion was fair; she didn't need makeup.

Their sex life was okay. They made love a couple nights a week. She was on the pill, so he could ejaculate inside her. He always did. She climaxed about half the time. When she had orgasms, they were strong. Her pussy was always freshly shaved. She had considered laser hair removal, but waxing made her smooth when she felt like treating him to a stubble-free fuck.

They were reasonably happy -- middle class happy. No problems worth mentioning. In short, their lives were okay. Everything was routine. Wake up. Eat breakfast. Go to work. Come home. Eat dinner. Put the children in bed. Snuggle on the sofa. Go to bed and sleep. They didn't need clocks. Habit precisely dictated their every move.

There had to be more to life. He couldn't articulate what, but something was missing. He was certain about that. Life was alright, or so it seemed. He felt that he needed something different, but he didn't know what. Everything, including sex, was predictable. Something had to change. It had to be more than just different positions in bed; he already did that. He loved his wife. She was predictable in everything including occasionally waxing her pussy instead of just shaving. He wanted variety, but he couldn't figure out how to have it.

One evening per month, he went out after work with a friend for a couple of beers before going home. Never more than two beers; he had to be able to drive.

One such evening as they were sitting at a table with their beers, a woman, probably around thirty, entered the bar. Her attire immediately grabbed everyone's attention. Her blouse was tight against her large breasts and scarcely covered them. The opening showed that she was braless. Her nipples were outlined against the shiny fabric. Her skirt wasn't much more than a wide belt.

His friend nudged him. "She's on the prowl," he whispered.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

"She's practically naked. Her tits are sticking out. She wants male attention."

"Maybe she's a hooker."

"Hookers aren't that blatant." The woman looked in their direction. He smiled. "She has her eye on you."

"So what?"

"She wants you. Go get her."

"Come on. I'm married. So are you."

"She is, too. Look at the rings on her left hand. Look, man. Pussy's pussy. I won't rat you out. No one will know. If you won't move on her, I will."

"I should be going home."

He watched his friend approach the woman and then sit down with her at a table. He couldn't be a witness to infidelity. He chugged down the rest of his beer and left.

As he drove, his mind wandered back to the bar. How long would the two of them be there before they left to find a secluded place? Did they go to his car or hers? Did they get a room somewhere? Maybe she already had one. How many guys would she fuck that night? One of them could have been him. He could have played with her enormous tits. He could have stuck his cock in her. The thoughts stirred his loins. He would have been her first that evening, not a sloppy second or third.

Yes, he could do it. He could get some strange pussy. If he was careful, his wife wouldn't find out. It would require planning. The right woman was essential. Should she be single, married, divorced, or widowed? A widow would be looking for solace and, therefore, likely to bed down with him. A divorcee would be looking for revenge sex. She could be wild in bed. A single woman might brag to her friends about bedding a married man. Forget it. A married woman would be endangering her marriage and, therefore, would be motivated to be discreet. Okay, married would be best. Widows would be next in line. They would want to be seen as faithful to the memory of their departed husbands. Horny divorces would be last.

The next factor was where. A motel room would be a logical choice. His place was definitely out. His wife didn't work. She was usually at home all day unless she had shopping to do. The woman's house might be possible if she was a stay-at-home with kids in school for daytime dalliances. There would have to be space in her garage for his car so her having a male visitor wouldn't be known to the neighbors. He grinned at the thought of cuckolding some poor slob. Of course, his wife was a stay-at-home mom. Was waxing her pussy instead of just shaving it for him or for a lover? He could be having just-in-case revenge sex. If he was going to have extramarital fun, there was no reason why she couldn't too.

There was the all-important matter of meeting someone. Bar pickups would probably be the easiest. He generally went straight home from work, so being frequently late would arouse suspicion. The women he worked with were mostly married. He didn't know if any of them played around on the side. The wrong remark to the wrong woman could get him fired. He had heard about websites for philanderers. They would probably be the best place to start.

What type of relationship did he want? That trollop at the bar would have been a one-off quickie. Was that really what he wanted? Sex had always been part of a relationship. It implied commitment. If he had an affair, it would be like being in two marriages. Could he handle that emotionally? Could he keep two relationships separate? The more he thought about it, the dumber the idea of cheating seemed. Yet he still wanted something different. He needed variety. Cheating was the only way to get it.

He and his wife had separate computers. They never looked at each other's machines. At least he didn't snoop into hers. He assumed the trust was mutual. They usually spent an hour online after the children went to bed.

That night he searched for married dating sites. He was surprised by how many there were. All of them claimed to be the best. No surprise there. He picked one randomly. The signup screen asked a few mundane questions about who he was and what he was looking for. He had to pick a screen name and password. The part about himself was a self-description -- age, height, weight, ZIP code, body type. They kept separate emergency funds, so he set up payments from his own. The money could easily be replaced later.

What was he looking for in a lover? Age? Twenty-five to fifty. Height? Average. Weight? Proportional. Breast size? He chose large and average. Location? Within ten miles. Body type? Slender to average. Marital status was not a category. He would have to sort them out manually. After entering a brief description of his likes and dislikes, he clicked the "Join" button.

A list of screen names with photos came up on his monitor. About half of the women were married. The poses ranged from simple portraits to full nudity. Who took those pictures? They didn't appear to be selfies. Did the husbands take them? He and his wife had never considered doing that. Maybe they should consider nude posing. It would be something different.

He rejected a few because they were under twenty-five. One was an eighteen-year-old virgin. He had never deflowered a girl. Someone had beat him to his wife's cherry. Maybe later when he was an experienced cheater if someone else did not get her first.

Quickly he narrowed the list of potentials to five. He selected one to write an introductory note to explaining that he was primarily interested in variety and suggesting they meet for coffee to discuss the next step. After sending the message, he shut down his computer to ensure that his wife would not accidentally see it if she happened to walk by.

A reply awaited him the next evening. His coffee invitation had been accepted for the next morning at a nearby fast-food restaurant. The time and place fit perfectly into his daily routine. He sent an acceptance.

He recognized her immediately. Shoulder length dark hair. Yellow knee-length dress. Yellow mid-height heels. They shook hands and went inside the restaurant. They found a table away from the windows and sat down with their coffees.

They were quiet for a minute. "That's a pretty dress," he said.

"Thank you," she replied softly. "Yellow is my favorite color." She took a sip from her cup. "We both like our coffee black. I guess that gives us something in common."

"My philosophy is if you have to pollute it to make it drinkable, it isn't worthwhile."

"I agree." She studied the cup for a few seconds. "Have you done this before?"

"No."

"Me, neither." They avoided eye contact for a minute. Suddenly she looked at him and blurted, "Are you big?"

He gasped as he swallowed his hot coffee. "Six inches. Is that enough?"

"Yes. It's good. My girlfriend says bigger is better. She and I share a lot. I told her about how bored I am. That I wanted something different. She suggested I have an affair."

"How do you feel about that?"

"I don't know. Would you want one? Or do you just want a once and done?"

"If the first time is good, there could be repeats. I really haven't thought about it. I get the feeling your friend has a lover."

"She's married and has a steady lover, but she cheats on him. She dresses real slutty and goes to bars to pick up men. I think he knows." She paused for a moment. "Is it okay to be scared?"

"Anything new creates anxiety. We don't have to do it."

"I need it. Every night is the same. No variety at all."

"We mix things up a bit, but even then, there's nothing new."

"Right now, I don't care if it's a one-night stand. I just want something, someone, different. I have an iud, so protection isn't necessary. My husband is at work. We can go to my house. We'll put your car in the garage, so the neighbors won't suspect anything. I don't believe I'm saying this: I want you to fuck me! The sooner, the better!"

His mouthful of coffee spurted out through his nose. "You don't beat around the bush."

"I don't have a bush."

He coughed. "I don't either." He coughed again. "I could call off work."

"I'm free until three o'clock." He took out his cellphone and called his office. "Thank you."

There was room for two cars in her garage.

The moment they were inside the house, she pulled her dress up over her head and tossed it aside, leaving her wearing only her shoes. "My friend said not to wear any underwear," she said. "It would enhance my mood. She was right. I'm already getting wet."

"Then it's time for me to strip," he said as he loosened his tie. The tie and his suit jacket landed atop her dress. She knelt before him to help him get his shoes and socks off while he unbuttoned his shirt. His pants and shorts came down next. "You definitely aren't scared anymore."

"I am nervous, but it's not scared nervous; it's excited nervous." Her hand stroked his stiffening cock. "I can't believe I'm going to fuck a man I just met twenty minutes ago. It's like I'm a virgin about to be deflowered. I can't wait for it to happen." She stood up and grabbed his hand. "The bed is this way." In the bedroom, she pulled the coverlet and blanket off the bed and plopped down on it. "Come on. Put that beautiful thing inside me."

"What's your rush? We have six hours."

"You're right."

She rolled him onto his back and took his growing member between her lips. Her tongue slowly traced the underside of his cock from the root to the tip while she kept her eyes on his. She ran her tongue around the edge of his glans, making him gasp. Without dropping his dick from her mouth, she spun around to position her pussy over his mouth. Without hesitation he began to lick her labia. Each fold received separate attention. When he arrived at her clit, he sucked gently on it. She moaned through her mouthful of his prick. He hummed on her button. His meat fell from her mouth. "Don't stop that!" she shouted. Her panting turned to groans. "That is so good!" Her legs shook as her orgasm ran over her. Quickly she got up, turned around, grabbed his cock, and took it into her pussy. Her hips snapped back and forth. He propped his knees up so he could thrust into her. Her tunnel squeezed his shaft as she climaxed again. The intense friction pushed him over the edge, and he unloaded his seed into her womb. She collapsed on his chest; her heart pounded in her chest, and they both fought for air. "Damn, you're good," she said. "I love my husband. I won't leave him, but I am going to need more of you."

"I'm in favor of that," he said. "We have time for another round or two. I just have to recharge. We are now officially cheaters. How do you feel about that?"

"I'm kicking myself for not doing it sooner."

He checked his watch when he left her house at 2:45. It was too early for him to come home from work. To kill time, he went to a bar to nurse a couple beers. As he sat down at a table, a woman entered. He almost choked on a mouthful of beer when he saw her. Her blouse only covered her nipples, leaving most of her huge boobs on display. Her skirt looked like a wide belt. She saw him and walked over to him. "Where's your friend?" she asked.

"He's still at work," he said. "Have a seat."

She sat beside him and leaned against him. "Do you think he will be coming here later?"

He placed his hand on her thigh and ran his fingertips up her leg. His guess was right. He encountered her naked pussy. "I don't know. He told me you two had a lot of fun after I left."

"We sure did." Her hand caressed his cock through his pants. It began to grow. "You seem to have the same ideas he had. Are you as good as he is?"

He hesitated for a moment to consider his reply. He had just fucked a strange woman three times, and he now had another one after him. Hell, why not? "There's only one way to find out."

She stood up and took his hand in hers. "Come with me." He took one more swig from his beer and rose, leaving the half-full bottle on the table. She led him to the ladies' room. After a quick peak through the door cracked partly open, she announced, "We're alone." They dashed into the room.

Their mouths pressed together as he put his hand inside her blouse and over her big boobs. She took deep breaths as he ran his fingertip around her nipples. Her hand searched for his pants' zipper. She fished around inside his fly and extracted his manhood. Dropping to her knees, she took it into her mouth. "You're bigger," she said between pulls on his cock. When he felt he was on the verge of cumming, he stood her up and knelt with his face between her legs. She gasped as he first licked the folds of her pussy, then began to hum on her clit. "You're better." Her legs clamped onto his head.

When she was able to release him, she turned around and leaned against a sink. He sank into her from behind and began thrusting. He heard the restroom door open. Another woman came in. She began to back out, but he waved to her to approach. Slowly she came toward him staring transfixed at the sight of a couple fucking. He held out his hand. Hesitantly she took it in hers. He drew her closer, becoming more turned on by having an audience. He pushed her hand into her skirt. She began to stroke her pussy lips, becoming more aroused in the process. He smiled. She smiled back. The vigor of his thrusting increased in speed and intensity until his balls emptied themselves into the cunt he had been fucking.

His target slowly straightened up, and his cock dropped out of her. Then she noticed their visitor. "You should have told me we have company," she said. "I love being watched."

"I was busy," he said.

"I wish my husband would fuck me like that," the other woman said. "He's so boring. I'm tempted to have an affair. Even a quickie would be good."

He looked at his watch. "There's time."

"He's all yours," said the slut, his cum dripping from her pussy.

"I can't believe you'd let your husband fuck me."

"He isn't my husband."

"You both are wearing rings. Do you mean you are an affair?"

"No, we just met in the lobby. We were both horny. He's really good. You should try him."

"I don't know." She stared at the cock pointed at her. "I'm wet from watching you guys. I've never picked up a man before." Her breathing was deep. "It would just be fucking." She pushed her skirt and panties down and leaned over the sink. "I'm too hot to say no. Take me."

He stepped behind her, inserted himself into her pussy, and began thrusting for his third venture into his cheating career. She gasped each time her jabbed into her. Her vaginal muscles gripped him as she climaxed.

He checked his watch again. It was time to go home and fuck his wife.

After all. Pussy's pussy.