New Horizons

This story follows on from, "Careful What You Wish For." But I do not believe it is essential for people to read that story first to be able to understand or enjoy this one, not unless you want to get inside the mind of the protagonist. Therefore, this story has not been published as Chapter Two.

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Oh, God, what have you done, Jemma? I asked myself inwardly at 6am in the morning, as I slowly and quietly slipped my naked body out of another man's hotel bed, praying he wouldn't wake until I had managed to escape. I wasn't his prisoner, but I couldn't face him the morning after.

The night before, I sat alone at the hotel bar with a glass of wine, contemplating the future of my marriage, eight months after having sex with a man named Ray in front of my husband. My reluctance led to my mind being opened to possibilities, but my husband's fantasy opened his to the harsh realities of sharing one's wife.

We didn't need to do it again, but my husband had been distant ever since, and now our marriage teetered on the edge of annihilation because of it. Yet, when the man whose bed I had just crawled out of like a whore approached me at the bar, knowing I was a married lady, I let him buy me a drink, which turned into two, then an invite to join him in his hotel room. I had my reasons, but I take full responsibility.

And now, with my long, brown hair in a complete mess, cradling my large breasts in my left arm, I was quietly trying to find the underwear, the black stilettos, the black peplum dress, and the leather belt with a silver buckle that I had worn to the bar after a conference, after my infidelity.

"Uh," I grimaced, stepping on a used condom. I lifted my foot and peeled it off.

I never found my black lace bra and panties, but I did find my dress, shoes, and belt. I quietly slipped them on, feeling relieved at succeeding in getting dressed without waking Richard, the mature man I had spent the night having dirty sex with. There's no other way to describe it.

"Leaving without saying goodbye, Jennifer?" he suddenly chuckled from the bed. I forgot I had given him a false name.

My heart sank and my eyes closed for a moment, before I turned around to face him with a polite but fake smile. I was so close to reaching that door and getting out without ever having to see or speak to him again. He wasn't even my type. I was thirty-three. Richard was fifty, stocky, and a bit chubby with grey hair, but he did have a nice cock that he knew how to use.

"Sorry," I spoke meekly, ashamed of what I had done, embarrassed of what I was about to do. The walk of shame back to my own hotel room. "I didn't want to wake you," I lied, knowing he knew I was lying.

He smiled. "Take care of yourself, Jennifer. I hope whatever problems you are having in your marriage can be resolved quickly."

"Um... thanks," I replied awkwardly. "You take care too, Richard." The only thing I did quickly that morning was vacate his room.

Head down, I walked briskly towards the elevator and went down two floors, thankfully alone, because I looked and smelt like exactly what I was, a married cheating whore who had spent the night getting fucked. When I finally made it to my room, which felt cold and empty with the bed having not been slept in, I took off my clothes and turned on the shower.

As I waited for the water to run hot, I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my naked reflection. Long gone was the elegant up-do and polished makeup of a respectable, married, professional woman. My elegant, brown up-do was lopsided, my face looked tired, my hips were sore, and the skin across my breasts faintly crusted.

When my reflection began to disappear in the warm mist filling the bathroom, I stepped into the shower and tilted my head back under the flow of water, eyes closed, running my fingers through my hair. My mind immediately started replaying the memories of what I had done, of my awful infidelity with Richard.

Why, Jemma? Why did you go back to his room? I asked myself without saying the words, scrubbing shampoo into my hair.

Richard sensed it was my first time cheating, but he didn't ask any questions. He simply grabbed my waist and pulled my curvaceous figure tight against his bulky frame. It wasn't a nice, patient, or even a kind kiss. It was unadulterated lust.

With his eager tongue inside my mouth, Richard unbuckled the silver buckle cinching my waist and removed the leather belt. It hit the carpeted floor with a clink and then his hands were sliding up my back. He found the zipper on my black peplum dress and pulled it down slowly.

Knowing my fate was sealed because of my actions, I fumbled with his trouser belt and accepted I was going to get fucked. Part of me was just angry while another part wanted it. The dress was pulled down my arms, exposing my black lace bra and heavy bust as I pushed his trousers down a few inches and put my hand inside.

"You're so beautiful," Richard groaned, getting my dress down to my hips. He left it there and reached around my back to unhook my bra. "Such a fine woman," he added, removing the lace garment.

He cupped underneath from the bottom when they dropped, firm but gentle as I released his hard, thick cock and groaned into his mouth. Richard appreciated how soft and yielding my breasts were in his hands, relieving some of the weight off my chest and upper back. He didn't squeeze the fronts or tops like a man possessed.

With our eyes closed and our mouths connected, he slowed the kiss down, his palms broad and his fingers relaxed as I stroked him sensually. His left arm went around my waist, but his right hand stayed, gently lifting and caressing in big, soft circles, lightly rolling my nipples between his fingers, gently pinching. I was his now, and I wanted him to fuck me.

But not yet...

Dress still around my waist, I kicked off my heels and got down on my knees, looking up at him, showing him that I really wanted his cock. But then it dawned on me that I hadn't given another man a blowjob since meeting my husband. I'd had sex with another man in front of my husband, but I didn't give that man head.

Richard groaned down into my blue eyes, smiling as I wrapped my right hand around his thick shaft, so my mouth only had to work his fat, spongey head and the first few inches. Excited and a little bit nervous now, wanting to impress the man in my grasp, I began to lick and stroke, moving my hand up and down as my tongue swirled around his musky, salty dome.

"Oh... yes..." Richard breathed, his knees jolting before he pushed his trousers right down and stepped out of them carefully. "Your blue eyes are so big and beautiful."

Keeping those eyes looking up at him, my brown hair still fixed in a soft, elegant up-do, twisted and pinned at the back with a bit of volume on top, I took just the tip of his cock into my mouth with firm suction while my right hand worked the rest. My left hand rested on my thigh, which was still covered by the fabric of the dress.

"Yes, keep those stunning eyes up here, Jennifer," he instructed, unbuttoning his shirt and removing it, revealing a broad, hairy chest and a hard, rounded belly.

Being called Jennifer helped me detach a little from who I really was as I fluttered my tongue on the underside ridge, making Richard hiss with pleasure and put his hands on my head. They simply rested there lightly, so I tilted my head, making his girth sit comfortably in my mouth.

"Oh, that feels wonderful," he sighed.

I wasn't used to giving head on my knees, to having my mouth around a thick cock, or sucking off a complete stranger. I was only familiar with handling my husband in bed. He was the perfect size. Not too long or wide, so I kept my lips sealed and wet around Richard, not taking him too far. I think he understood that what was good for me would ultimately be good for him.

Attention and rhythm over speed and depth, I spent a few minutes focussing on long strokes with my hand while my mouth stayed on the head, varying the suction between firm and soft. I paused occasionally to lick the tangy dew from the tip before I cupped his sac with my left hand, my wedding ring moving around in there as I gently rolled his large testicles.

"Oh... Jennifer..."

I expressively moaned my own arousal around his weeping done as it pulsated against my tongue. I tightened my grip on his throbbing shaft and continued to look up at him. I took him to the edge of ecstasy then switched to lighter licking and kissing, so the intensity stayed high without him flooding my mouth with cum.

Richard knew better than me how close he was and soon stepped back, helping me to my feet. We kissed again as he pulled the dress down over my hips before letting it fall to the floor naturally. He then took me in his arms like he owned me and lay my body down on the bed, where he slowly peeled my black lace panties down and spread my legs, grinning at his prize.

I cupped my breasts and opened my legs a little wider, offering him my neatly trimmed pussy. He dived in excitedly, wetting my folds even more with his tongue. He sucked on my clit and gently pushed a finger inside, then another, thrusting in and out until I climaxed hard.

Surprised by how quickly I had reached orgasm, he spent a few moments kissing inside my thighs before fetching a condom. I stayed on my back, legs spread with my knees in the air, feet flat, caressing my breasts, watching him roll latex over his cock. He stroked himself as he returned to the bed, beaming excitedly.

"Come here and kneel on all fours facing up the way," he told me in a husky voice.

"What's wrong with right here?" I replied, smirking. I love it from behind, but Richard was still a stranger. I didn't feel comfortable bending over for him just yet.

"I'm not your husband, Jennifer. Now get over here," he chuckled dirtily.

Laughing at being bossed around, but it excited me really, I went to the end of the bed and turned over onto all fours with my knees on the edge and my legs and feet sticking out over the end. Richard filled the gap, placing a hand on my lower back, pressing down and forward, tilting my backside slightly as he guided himself.

"Good girl," he muttered, rubbing his sheathed head along my slit before nudging it between my folds. "Oh, yes."

Preparing for the thick penetration, I stretched my arms out in front of me up the covers, lowering my breasts and face against the fabric. I felt his hand grab hold of my left hip, then he began to gently rock me back and forth as he worked himself into my body slowly, groaning as he did it.

Inch by inch, stretching my pussy, his groans grew deeper and my moans louder. His grip tightened on my hip and my body rocked a little deeper. Soon enough, Richard was buried to the hilt, both hands now holding my waist, his hard belly resting on and against my buttocks with his thick cock inside me.

"Much tighter than I expected," he groaned, thrusting deeper by moving his hips only. "God, that feels so good."

I winced and clutched the bedcovers at the depth he had reached, at the intense stretch, as my inner walls expanded to accommodate his girth. But Richard didn't ask if I was ok or how I felt, he simply started fucking me, spanking the side of my buttocks with his big hands.

I soon got used to it, however, and started pushing back to meet his thrusts as an orgasm quickly began to build. The room filled with desperate, wanton sounds of two strangers fucking lovelessly, of my infidelity. But I wasn't thinking about that with a fat cock pounding my pussy hard from behind, doing wonderful things.

"Yes! Come for me!" Richard exclaimed.

He buried his cock and fucked me with short, deep thrusts again as I came around his thickness. I could become accustomed to this kind of sex, I thought, crying out in ecstasy until my orgasm subsided. Richard then flipped me over onto my back, put a pillow under my backside and my legs onto his shoulders.

I sighed, trying to catch my breath from the first position. I could see he was still wearing the condom, but I could also see and feel his cock circling my opening.

"Look at me, Jennifer," he growled.

Rubbing the back of my hand across my brow, face hot and flushed, I looked up at him through my legs. He grinned, told me I was beautiful again, then began to ease himself back into my body for another go. That stretch was the only thing I thought was beautiful. I was becoming addicted.

"Yes, you like that, Jennifer?" he groaned, watching my flickering eyelids as he stuffed his fat cock deep inside my pussy.

It felt a little naughtier being called a different name, and I didn't see the point in giving him my real one now. He was already fucking me again with short, controlled thrusts, his thickness creating more friction and pressure as he angled himself slightly upward, rubbing his solid shaft against my sensitive front wall.

"You make me feel twenty years younger," he chuckled, sweat on his brow, needlessly reminding me of his age.

Smiling, I closed my eyes and reached high above my head, ready to get fucked hard and deep again. If you're going to cheat, then you might as well do it properly. In fact, don't cheat. It's terrible.

As Richard began to move his hips backward and forward, he wrapped an arm around the front of my thighs and leaned forward, knocking the wind out of me as he held my legs tight together, his head between my ankles. He used his free hand to play with my breasts as they bounced up and down, hitting my face.

"Oh, yes," I panted, pushing my hips up to meet him. "Deeper... yes... harder..."

Richard immediately lengthened his strokes, sending my body into spasms of pleasure again. I wasn't counting, but that was the third time he had brought me to orgasm if I included the amazing oral sex. He fucked me through the climax until I calmed down again, shaking my head with my hand in the air, unable to breathe.

"Are you ok there, Jennifer?" he laughed, his ego I suspected, but he politely pulled out and gently lowered my legs until my feet touched the floor. "Would you like a cold bottle of water from the mini bar? "

"Yes please," I sighed, sitting up naked and fucked on the end of the bed.

He walked to and from the mini bar with his cock still hard and sheathed. Jesus, he has some stamina in him for an old guy, I thought, accepting the bottle of water. The cold felt amazing in my hand, so I put the bottle on my forehead and closed my eyes, taking a much-needed moment.

Richard just stood there, stroking his cock, grinning as his eyes watched me intently. I giggled at him as I opened the bottle and finally took a big swig. I needed the drink more than I realised. Three glasses of wine at the bar, followed by the fucking he had just given me, I was seriously dehydrated and happy to stop.

"Do you want me to just suck you off?" I asked, a question I never imagined asking a stranger.

"As nice as that would be, I would prefer to finish with you on top please, Jennifer."

The expression on his face and the grip around his shaft were not as polite as his words, and I didn't really want to perform for him, to sit on his cock looking down. But at least I would be in control and his cum would end up in the condom, better than over me or in my mouth, I decided.

"Ok," I replied nervously.

But it wasn't as straightforward as I thought it would be. Richard climbed onto the bed, lay on his back, grinning at me with his big belly and hard cock rising from his body. I wished he had ejaculated when he fucked me on the end of the bed. Now I felt like I had no choice but to climb on to get him off. I became very self-conscious straddling his lap and trying to get him in.

"Here, let me help you," he spoke kindly, sitting up against the pillows, making me feel a little less exposed compared to the classic flat-on-your-back cowgirl.

He then moved his hand between my legs and began to gently massage my pussy, which was still wet but not as excited and eager after a short break. I closed my eyes and raised myself fully onto my knees, slowly getting back into it as he rubbed my clit in tentative circles until I was panting.

"That's it," Richard whispered, removing his hand and placing both on my hips.

I reached between my legs and took hold him, rubbing the tip against my opening as I eased myself down gently. I had to come back up a few times after taking a little more of him, but I eventually worked it in, sliding down his cock until I was impaled. Groaning together, I leaned forward, pressing my large breasts against his broad, hairy chest to hide my shy face.

"Mmm," Richard murmured, cupping my breasts from the sides as he thrust up from underneath with those short, steady movements again. "Oh fuck, yes, that feels so good, Jennifer."

"Ohhhh..." I moaned, shocked to find myself on the verge of yet another orgasm.

"Yes. That's it, Jennifer. Ride that cock."

From hiding as I ground my hips back and forth, to sitting up and rocking while I held his shoulders, breasts bouncing in his hands, I erupted in orgasm once more. Richard held me through it, telling me how incredible I felt coming on his cock. Exhausted, I collapsed into him, completely worn out and satisfied. But then he held me tighter and turned me leftwards, removing me from his lap to lay me down with my head on the pillows.

"Push your tits together," he instructed, straddling my legs as he removed the condom and threw it somewhere.

"Don't get it on my face or in my hair," I warned him, filling up with trepidation.

"I won't," he replied hoarsely, raising himself onto his knees and stroking fast.

I sat up higher, tilting my head back as I held my breasts together for him. With a loud groan, followed by repeated grunts, Richard sprayed my chest with his cum. He didn't or couldn't ejaculate powerfully enough to reach my face, but he did produce what I thought was an abnormal load, messily covering both of my breasts.

"Oh, fuck," he quivered, flicking what was left at me before wiping the head of his cock across the top of my stomach. "That was incredible. Let me get you a towel."

"Please do," I giggled, as his cum slid down my breasts and onto my fingers. I saw my wedding ring and sighed heavily.

When Richard returned from the bathroom, I wiped my chest clean and dropped the towel on the floor beside the bed, then threw my head back against the pillows, closing my eyes for a few minutes. The next thing I remember was waking up in a dark room, with Richard fast asleep beside me and people walking around upstairs and in the corridor.

"Shit," I gasped quietly.

I checked the thin, gold watch around my wrist. 6am! Oh, God, what have you done, Jemma? I asked myself inwardly as I slowly and quietly slipped my naked body from under the duvet. I couldn't even remember getting under the damn duvet.

Back in my hotel room, stepping out of the shower, I knew my marriage was over. I felt no guilt or remorse, just a sadness that the love my husband and I vowed to honour until death did us part wasn't as strong as we thought it was. Poor communication and his unwillingness to seek couples therapy was our undoing in the end. My infidelity just confirmed it.

A year later, separated with the divorce almost finalised, I was thirty-four with a whole new horizon ahead of me. I threw myself into work, moved into a new apartment, and told myself I was still young enough to find love and settle down again. But first I just wanted to have fun.

Being a private, discreet lady, I signed up to a swinger's site as Jennifer, not the same one my husband had us join, and put myself out there for no strings attached fun with the right person. But I only used it to meet guys once a month when I worked away and stayed in a hotel.

It would teach me a lot about myself, about other people, and about what kind of sex I really enjoyed. It would also see me becoming a little lost for a while as I became addicted to meeting experienced strangers who seemed to know how to read me better than I could read myself.