The place he was staying, courtesy of work, was about an hour away. Certainly I was there an hour after getting into my car to get to him. I think that if we lived an hour from each other, rather than 2 or more, life would be much much easier.
I am not by nature someone who tells lies, though as a not very popular child at school I told some quite big ones to try to get people to like me, but that is another story entirely. As an adult, I have usually tried be true to myself and true to others. I don’t lie.
Over the last 18 months or so though, I have told many many lies.
I have lied to hubby, something well documented here and I have lied to others. Usually about where I have been and who with.
Around last November, also well documented here, I began to tell the truth. To hubby firstly and most painfully. Then to members of my family, to friends and to my son. Well I say I told the truth, because to each one I have told a version of the truth, one that I have decided best suits who they are and what they need to know.
Now, once again I am telling lies. In July when S and I parted I told hubby what had happened. The months and months of verbal abuse I endured from him, stopped. So when a month later, S and I got together again, I lied by omission. For some weeks this has not been a problem, since hubby has not been here. Until Tuesday night, we had not spent one evening or night under the same roof since the end of July. On Tuesday he came home, and he stayed home for 3 nights. He might have come home on Monday, but I was not here.
I told him I was going to a conference on Tuesday and to make things easy, travel wise, I was going to a hotel on Monday night. I did go to a hotel, but there was not conference. On Tuesday I was at work as usual. On Monday evening hubby was busy searching my wardrobe to see what was missing. He discovered that some shoes I didn’t know he had ever seen, were gone. Therefore he accused me of lying. Accused me of being with someone. Of being with S.
I have maintained my story and told him that I threw the shoes out. He and I know this is a lie. But I refuse to back down.
I don’t like to lie to him. But actually I don’t feel that we have the kind of relationship any more where he deserves the truth.
I don’t love this man as a wife loves her husband. He is no longer my lover and right now he is not really a friend either.
We are heading now towards the inevitable. I have suggested counselling, but he quite rightly says this will not make me love him when I say I don’t.
I pursue my own happiness, but know that in the process I am causing distress and sadness.
I long to tell the truth and be happy about it. I hope soon it becomes a reality and there are no more lies.
Photo: Oral pleasures
So S and I are back in the swing of seeing each other again and things are, I think, pretty good on that front. He seems like his old self, and what’s more, he is keen to see me and to touch me. I am happy to comply with his wishes on dress, and actually I like to dress up for him, to wear the stockings and heels. He finds me attractive and that helps me feel attractive in return. Dominance and submission is always present in the bedroom but outside it our relationship has become pleasantly average. I don’t feel particularly unhappy about that right now. Essentially I can go with the flow, and take our friendship and also give and take the sex.
Due to the unpleasantness I experienced from hubby all of the time he knew of my affair with S, I have decided not to tell him about the recent turn of events. So he doesn’t know I am seeing S again. I feel a little guilty about this, but the emphasis is on ‘little’. Although we appear to live together still. i.e. he has his belongings here and he visits pretty much daily, actually we really aren’t. I don’t actually remember the last time we spent an evening together, or indeed the last time he stayed the night here. He returned on Thursday from a trip to Rome with a friend, appearing on Friday morning to get ready for work. He lay on the bed and held my hand, he told me he had missed me and asked if we could have lunch together. My new job means I can’t just drop everything and come home, and we work quite a distance from each other. I suggested lunch today, and he said he couldn’t do that as he is helping a friend with a job in his garden. So essentially we remain in limbo, unable or perhaps unwilling to have the conversation which will bring things to their natural conclusion. Meanwhile, since we see so little of each other, we are actually on good terms. We are able to text and talk on the phone, without unpleasantness, but then part of that is because he thinks he no longer needs to say anything unpleasant given that he doesn’t know I have seen S again.
The fact is that I have a marriage which might be on its last legs, but which is harder to let go of after nearly 30 years than I might have imagined.
I have a relationship with S which is based on trust, friendship and lust. It contains kinky sex, a bit of humiliation, dressing up for my man and also some pain. If anything he is enjoying showing me how much he cares for me, and attending to my needs just that little bit more.
I still feel like I am on some kind of journey, I just don’t quite know where I am headed, and how long it will take. I guess though that I will know when I am there and what’s more, I will enjoy myself on the way. For now, that will do for me.
Photo from myboundwife.com
He decided that he wanted me to stay fully clothed. So skirt hitched up, knickers off, I knelt on the bed.
His hands moved over me, feeling my clit once again, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm.
“Sit on my face” he instructed. Of course, I gladly complied. He has the most amazing tongue. Searching, feeling and teasing. At the same time his hands on my nipples. Squeezing, twisting. Of course I came. I asked, he permitted it; we both loved it.
On my side he plunged his cock into me.
I think that’s when we noticed the mirror. Full length, between the bathroom and the vanity unit. I looked like some kind of wanton slut, enjoying her man’s cock. He saw just that, probably because that was exactly what was happening.
He loved it. For once he could see the expression on my face. Could see how much I was loving having his cock inside me.
It wasn’t long before I was on my hands and knees facing the mirror and his cock was somewhere else. He loves to own my arse. and seeing my face as he did so was something new, special and a massive turn on for us both.
Later there was time to cuddle up together, kiss and caress. Time for a film and then a meal in a really good indian restaurant.
In the morning after he had already left to get home in time for work, I dried myself in front of that mirror after my shower. I definitely smiled at the wonderful memory.
She wore a tight grey skirt, with a cream top. Heels.
Every bit the business woman?
Well a cream top with black bra?
As they entered the bar, she looked around and saw people in casual dress. It was Sunday, so people were out for lunch, socialising, chatting.
He observed that men looked at her legs, observed the heels, skirt, blouse, bra. He loved it – his slut watched by other men in this way.
As they sat with their drinks, he told her to open her legs for him. Of course she complied.
She tried to chat normally, he smiled at the idea that they were observed in this way. Last time they had sat in this bar, she had felt conspicuous by her dress and demeanour. This time she ignored any embarrassment, proud to be HIS slut.
They finished their drinks, and headed for their room. Outside the door, he paused and ran his hand up her stockinged leg, inside her panties. she gasped as his fingers stroked her wet pussy, her clit. Taking his hand away, he undid the zip on his trousers, releasing his large, hard cock. She was on her knees before he told her to suck.
Gratefully she took him into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the sounds in the pub area below. Instead she concentrated on the feel of him, the taste and smell. She was pleased to have her mouth filled with him at last.
Then as she got to her feet, he used the key card to admit them to the privacy of their room.
He had loved that she had looked every bit his slut in the bar and that she had behaved like one outside the room. Now, she would be His slut in the room. They both knew what would happen next…….
I haven’t had much to write about over the past couple of weeks, plus I have been busy with work and things. That doesn’t mean I am not here and it doesn’t mean I am not keeping up to date with other blogs.
Reading what everyone else is up in their daily lives makes me a little jealous. More and more, I would like to be in a relationship where the D/s and the sex didn’t have to be planned out. Living in the marital home, mostly without a husband, a hundred miles from the man I am involved with is not conducive to spontaneity. It is not as if he can call round and make demands on me, any more than I can call round his and offer myself to him. Still we are where we are and generally things are good.
Having said that, we have something planned out for tomorrow. What is more, we are heading back to the hotel where we first met. The place where I lost my virginity (so to speak), where I dressed in clothes which could only be described as slutty – short skirt, wrap around top, black stockings and heels. Walked into the hotel bar and essentially picked up my man. I was beyond nervous, so much so that I remember little about the whole thing, other than we had a lot of sex for a very long time and that I had anal for the first time. I know that I knelt before him and sucked him and that he used me. I also know that it was good, because I came back for more, much more.
Tomorrow, things will be a little different. For one thing we know each other well. Things will be much more relaxed than that first time. Plus we are going to get out into the countryside, picnic and geocache. But he will again take on the role of Master and I will be his submissive. He may well have me suck him in the woods, he will probably touch what is his and I will do what he wants willingly. Back in the room, I will dress for him in the way he likes and he will call me his slut. He will tell me to bend over and I am pretty sure he will slap me, perhaps with his hand, a belt, or if I am lucky he will have brought the riding crop! If I am even luckier he will have brought the nipple clamps and my nipples will be already tingling and burning.
For a few hours I will be his again. His to use as he wishes. That is what we are offering each other right now, and that is what we accept. For now this will do because I like being with him, he likes being with me and life is complicated enough to not take what you can from it.
Definitely more to come in a couple of days.