Guilty Pleasure

"We can't have a repeat. I feel like shit for cheating on Mindy who is a truly wonderful woman," Warren responded.

"We have to stay away from each other - we can never be alone again," I quietly sobbed into the phone. "Guilt is wracking my entire body - I feel so awful for Jason."

After a delay during which it appeared that Warren was gathering his thoughts he said "Look; we'll make sure that we're never alone together again. Just make it up to Jason by being the best wife and mother than you can be. If neither of us ever says anything and we never do it again no one will be hurt. If you have trouble handling it, go to a counselor which will be easy to explain since preggo hormones are flowing through your body."

"You're right, of course," I agreed. "It will be tough, but I hope that in time the memory of our betrayal of our spouses will just be a guilty pleasure that we can deal with, and nothing more."

"Yeah, a guilty pleasure," Warren chuckled. "Goodbye sexiest woman in the world, whether pregnant or not; just don't get caught alone with me again because if I encounter you when you're not pregnant our fuck fest Saturday will look G-rated by comparison."

My pussy started leaking profusely. "You're bad - really bad," I chortled as I hung up the phone.

Fortunately, Amanda was still napping because I never needed my dildo so much; I came four times in rapid succession thinking of Warren's words - and cock.

***********

Since the guilt really did bother me, as Warren had suggested I went to see a counselor - a female psychologist who specialized in dealing with pregnant women and post-partum depression. She helped me a lot. While she never allowed me to excuse my actions, she pointed out my history of fidelity, my love for Jason and Amanda, how unusual my situation was, and my resolve never to be alone with Warren again, and how he was thinking along the same lines. Just like Warren, however, she counseled me not to ever tell Jason.

"While confession may be good for the soul, it is really bad for relationships," was one of her pearls of wisdom. "You might think that it's merely being honest; but what if he asks questions? You either have to lie then or tell him 'I had the best, toe-curling, sex of my life which I remember constantly, even when we're screwing.' What do you think that will do to him?" was her most convincing and definitive statement on the matter.

By the time that our son Matthew - no I didn't name him "Warren" - was six months old I had forgiven myself. I was convinced that I was the best wife and mother I could have been since my "guilty pleasure" encounter, and since it would never be repeated I could move on.

It seems that life has a way of throwing you curves, though, doesn't it.

**************

Even with two little kids, Jason and I had joined an "Adventure" club since only exercise room activities to keep in shape were starting to get boring. Both sets of grandparents lived nearby and they were only too happy to have the grandkids for a weekend. Jason had always been somewhat of an outdoorsman growing up, and I always loved to hike, so it was a natural for us.

There was a problem. Warren and Mindy also liked the outdoors, and with the intense encouragement of both Jason and Mindy Warren was convinced to join the club. The only time that Warren and I were briefly - and I mean briefly, only ten to fifteen seconds - alone he whispered "We can control ourselves, can't we Janina? It's been three years since our guilty pleasure?"

I really wish the fuck he wouldn't call me "Janina" since it made my pussy gush. I was able to not look at his crotch when he said that since I knew that he would be tenting his pants.

"As long as we're never alone together," I replied, trying to sound confident, but convinced that instead I sounded weak. Fortunately I was in a situation where I could change my panties within ten or fifteen minutes after his comment.

About the second year that we were in the adventure club, on a long weekend we had taken a nice hike in a Canadian wilderness area. One thing I really liked about that trip was that we were staying in a lodge for our four day weekend rather than camping out. There was a group of six of us - Jason, me, Warren, Mindy, Beth and Turk - hiking merrily along on our way back to the lodge as nightfall was starting to settle in. We were hurrying to get back before dark.

We were walking past a scree field with me in front, Warren next - I think that the bastard was checking out my ass, but I didn't say anything to him - then Jason, Beth, Mindy, and Turk bringing up the rear. I heard a scream behind me. Mindy had slipped on the scree and fallen down the hillside, almost causing a landslide. Turk tried to help, and fell head over heels. Beth and Json were also caught up in the slide. Warren slipped and fell on his ass but didn't move down the hillside, while I was the only who totally avoided the mishap.

Very carefully, Warren and I shinnied down the hillside trying as hard as we could not to disturb any more rocks. It was very clear that Mindy had a broken ankle, Beth and Jason had broken arms, and Turk was unconscious. Warren and I were able to help Beth and Jason to a point free of the scree field, but it was too dangerous to move Mindy given her broken ankle and the position she was in, and we didn't know what had happened to Turk so we didn't want to take the chance of causing him serious injury by moving him.

Jason had been carrying our SAT phone, and fortunately it was not damaged in the fall. Warren called the local rescue organization and a helicopter was there within twenty minutes. The rescue squad carefully immobilized Turk's neck and lifted him into the copter. Mindy was lifted next, then Beth, then Jason. Warren and I assumed that they would pick us up to ride with our spouses and friends to the hospital but as a rescuer who had immobilized Jason's broken arm was ready to start their ascent he said "We can't accommodate the weight of you two. We're already past maximum capacity. We're going to Health Sciences North Hospital in Sudbury. You can drive there tomorrow."

Despite our protests, they were soon gone.

Warren and I looked at each other funny. "We'll drive there tonight," he said, obviously with a dry mouth. He looked scared for many reasons - Mindy's condition and being left alone with me the primary ones. I was just as scared, also primarily about Jason's and Turk's conditions and being left alone with him.

"OK," I mumbled in reply.

"We really need to hoof it, though," he said as he grabbed my hand and started walking. "We need to get to the lodge before full darkness. There's not much moon tonight, I don't have a flashlight, and it's dangerous walking in total darkness.

We were probably a little more than three kilometers from the lodge. Fortunately, after the first one-half kilometer it was relatively flat and we both hustled. It was probably the fastest that I have ever walked on uneven terrain in my life. We got to within a quarter kilometer of the lodge and could see its lights before it got dangerously dark, at which point we slowed down - a welcome relief since we were both sweating profusely.

When we got to the lodge we suddenly remembered that Turk had driven the six of us to the lodge, and we didn't have keys to his van. We called the hospital and were eventually able to talk to Mindy, Jason and Beth. Beth confirmed that Turk had the only set of keys with him and the hospital was seventy miles away from the lodge and it was too late to arrange transportation that night. Fortunately Turk "merely" had a concussion and some bruising of his back and neck and would be able to be released in a couple of days. All of them were being kept in the hospital overnight for observation. We promised to find a way there the next morning, to pick up the keys - instead they said that they would have a courier bring the keys to us the next morning and then we could come and pick them up.

After we got off the phone, Warren and I exchanged furtive looks. This was a worst-case scenario as far as I was concerned. My panties were already soaked, and not just with sweat.

"Look," Warren said, attempting to remain stoic. "We're in control; we're not sex starved aliens. Let's shower - separately," the last word he added when he saw a scared look on my face; "then eat dinner. We're both extremely tired both emotionally and physically, and we'll fall asleep soon after dinner."

He was certainly right that I was emotionally and physically exhausted, leading me to believe that I couldn't have sex with him that night even if I wanted to; so I said "OK. I'm starving. I'll meet you in the dining room in twenty minutes."

I showered quickly in my room, only delaying look enough to finger myself to one orgasm to help insure that I wouldn't get other ideas when I met Warren. I put on jeans and the most conservative top that I had with me. Warren was waiting at a table when I got to the dining room, and he waved me over.

The lodge had a limited menu and Warren had already ordered us both the special for that evening, which is exactly what I would have ordered myself. The waiter showed up shortly after I sat down with a beer for Warren and a Manhattan for me, which everyone in our group knew was my favorite drink and which I had consumed two of when the six of us ate dinner together the night before.

Warren and I had a lively conversation, both of us choosing not to dwell on what had happened to our spouses or on our need to remain celibate that night, but we intentionally had less eye contact than any two people ever in a lively conversation with each other. We knew that eye contact was dangerous.

Despite me consuming three Manhattans and Warren four beers, because we also ate heartily we weren't feeling particularly light headed - at least I wasn't until I drained the last drop of my drink and we both stood up from the table. I stumbled slightly.

"You OK?" Warren genuinely asked.

"Yeah, just starting to get real tired and realizing that I should not have put three drinks into my sore body."

"It's time for bed," he said - then turning red and clarifying it with "I...uh...mean for us to go to our separate rooms."

I smiled.

We walked up the long winding staircase together to the second floor. Warren and Mindy's room was two doors to the left of the staircase, my and Jason's room six four doors past theirs. I'm sure that it was unintentional on both of our parts when he stopped short at his door and I ran into him. He turned to apologize and we made eye contact, our bodies still touching. I couldn't stop staring into the dichromatic eyes on his perfect - to me - face. There was probably a thirty second delay before he gurgled "We're not going to make it, are we?"

"No," I sighed and we mutually pushed our lips together.

I don't really remember him opening up his door and carrying me to his bed, nor how he stripped me naked - although I did see the remnants of my torn blouse, bra and panties on the floor the next day. I just remember that I was filled with more passion and dread, in a mind-numbing combination, than I ever had been before in my life.

I'm sure that there was no foreplay before his thick turgid cock bottomed out in my slippery pussy as I lay on my back with my thighs wrapped around his waist. I'm also sure that as soon as I started pulsating my pc muscles that he unloaded an ungodly amount of cum into my ravenous cunt as a mammoth orgasm consumed me.

The next thing that I remember is sometime later awaking from what seemed like a dream, and hearing Warren going to the bathroom. Once he returned to the bed I followed him into the head and peed out a couple of liters as cum also dripped from my pussy into the toilet. After wiping my crotch with a wet cloth I returned to the bedroom to find him standing near the bed with his cock pointing toward the ceiling.

He dropped to his knees in front of me, licked my pussy lips and stimulated my clit until I had another massive orgasm, and then without giving me a chance to recover lifted me up by my ass cheeks, moved my back against the outer wall of the room, buried his sword in my scabbard in one vigorous thrust, and then proceeded to fuck the every loving shit out of me while I screamed into his shoulder, dug my nails into his back, and clamped my thighs around his torso.

Given the power of our mutual orgasms I remember being amazed that he could still stand long enough afterword to safely get us over to the bed before his knees buckled. That was probably the last rational thought that passed through my brain that night. All I remember is that we fucked and sucked until the first vestiges of light shone through his window, and then fell asleep. When I woke the sun was fully up and it was 9 a. m. according to the clock next to the bed. Every one of my orifices was as sore as they ever were in my life, my nipples were raw, and Warren's cock was bright red and his testicles seemed to be throbbing.

I pried Warren's eyes open.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" I inquired with a look between laughing and stern.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" he mumbled in reply. "My balls hurt so bad, and my cock is burning.

"You didn't really need to fuck all of my orifices multiple times, did you? It's your own fault."

"I couldn't help myself, plus it's not like you weren't encouraging me."

"How many orgasms did you have, stud?" I asked after playfully pinching one of his nipples.

He seemed to be lost in thought for a few moments. "Six - I think," he said, "four more than any other session in my life. God, fucking you is so heavenly."

"Now we have more years of guilt, and I need to go back to my psychologist again," I sternly replied. "But I'm not going to think of that until we get back home; I'm just going to enjoy the euphoria the last eight or nine hours visited upon me."

I kissed him, put on what was left of my clothing, and chirped "See you down at breakfast in a half hour."

It took the full half hour to shower all of the cum and sweat off of me, douche, dress, fix my face and hair so that I looked human, and then dispose of my torn blouse, panties, and bra in the dumpster behind the lodge.

As Warren and I were wordlessly eating breakfast, although his left hand was squeezing my thigh under the table and occasionally drifting over to my over-stimulated crotch, a messenger from the hospital came up with the keys to Turk's van. We paid and gratefully thanked the messenger, then quickly finished breakfast and got into the van for the drive to the hospital. I lay my head on Warren's shoulder and lap most of the way over there - we talked little, mostly about how wonderful the night had been and what steps we were going to take to preclude a repeat. As he pulled into a remote part of the hospital parking lot I looked down at his crotch and he was - shockingly - tenting his pants.

"What the hell is that?" I asked, trying to sound miffed, as I pointed at his crotch.

"Shit - I don't know," he whined. "I'm so sore that it hurts pushing against my zipper." Then a diabolical look crossed his face. "I don't suppose you could perform one more act before our sexual relationship ends for good?"

"You perverted bastard," I moaned as I unzipped him, fished out his stiff red cock, and then proceeded to give him what I hoped would be an unforgettable blowjob.

When finished I wiped the remnants of cum off of one cheek and started to get out the door. "Let me sit for a second," he moaned. "I don't think that I can walk yet." Fifteen minutes later we both moseyed bowlegged into the hospital.

Turk was doing better but would have to stay another night. He insisted that Beth return with the other four of us to the lodge. Beth and Jason had casts on their left arms, and a sling. Mindy had a cast on her right ankle, but could walk well with crutches although Warren insisted on carrying her to the van.

I drove back to the lodge where we had a relaxing day of fishing as we took turns entertaining Mindy since she couldn't join us. I drove again the next day when we picked up Turk and then drove home. Since I was concentrating on negotiating the sometimes hairy roads, people didn't inquire why I was so quiet. It was hard for me to talk, much, however, with images flowing through my brain of Warren's cock exploding in my pussy.

*************

Of course when I got back home the guilt returned in spades. The kids cheered me up somewhat, and I went to see the psychologist again. She didn't just slap my wrist. She gave me a tongue-lashing even though she agreed that the circumstances were bizarre and would never be repeated. "You didn't have to drink three Manhattans, and follow him up the stairs, though, did you?" was her pinpoint rhetorical question.

Because of my guilt, activities with the kids, trying my best to make things easier for Jason because of his broken arm, and a busy life in general, I honestly forgot something very important until we were back a week. I had gone off the pill a couple of months before our Canadian Adventure because Jason and I had decided that we wanted a third kid. As soon as I realized it, I went to the calendar and feverishly counted the days and did the math.

"Holy fuck!" I exclaimed to myself as I dropped to the floor. "I had a period last month, but my night with Warren was right in the middle of my most fertile time! I sure hope that the kid doesn't have strawberry blond hair and an aquiline nose!"