Indefinable Indiscretions

"I am a deceitful, cheating wife. I think we should separate. I can no longer trust myself, so there's no reason for you to either. God, I'm a horrible person."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, honey. What the hell are you talking about? Sit down and let's discuss this before we take such drastic measures. What do you mean, you're a cheating wife?"

"I mean ... I engineered a rendezvous with a man I met online. I met him this past weekend."

The look on my husband's face hurts me more than a hundred knives stabbed into my heart ever could.

"Shit. Oh God, I'm going to be sick. So you fucked him?"

"Uh ... er ... no."

"No? What do you mean, no? You just told me that you cheated on me. What happened then? Did he touch you? Kiss you? What?"

"Um ... no and no. I ... it's ... complicated."

Somewhat relieved, my husband states, "Well, if you didn't fuck him, didn't touch him and didn't kiss him, I don't see how you can say that you were unfaithful."

"Really?"

"Really."

"I'm beginning to believe that infidelity is not as cut and dry as it used to be. Let me tell you about my experience, and ... well ... you just may decide to change your opinion."

As I type out the remainder of my taunting email, I think back on the series of events that led me here. What started out 3 years ago as a "hot computer chat," quickly developed into something much more complicated ... much more intense. Over the course of time, I told him my fantasies. I emailed him erotic photos of myself in various stages of undress. I wrote stories for and about him, sent him pornographic video clips, performed for him in the video chat room called NetMeeting, and even agreed to let him call me for phone sex. He patiently and subtlely used every tidbit of information I provided for him to help build his alter ego, my ultimate fantasy man, wreaking all sorts of havoc in my once stable and secure marriage. He pushed all of my buttons, and even discovered a few that I didn't know existed. He tapped into my desire to explore the darker side of sex ... the scary side ... bondage and domination and submission ... manipulating me out of my comfort zone and into this strange, exciting world. Never once did he reciprocate or offer me anything other than an orgasm in exchange. Foolish and naïve, I allowed myself to be taken in ... and swallowed whole.

Sometimes, it didn't phase me. I could take him or leave him. Other times, I wanted nothing more than for him to be real ... to experience all that he promised. It was during those times that I found it necessary to write emails such as the one I've just finished. The restlessness ... the confusion ... all seemed to dissipate after putting my thoughts down on paper. Only then was I able to make sense out of my emotions and resolve them, allowing my content return to a very wonderful, loving and pleasant reality.

Frighteningly aware of how people can get wrapped up in lust ... allow it to control them ... put it above everything else, I was determined not to let it happen to me. Although I had gotten in deeper than I had wished to with "Don," I wasn't about to let it destroy my life.

"I will be attending a 4-day conference at the Vail Marriott in Vail, Colorado

October 8 - 11th. Are you man enough to join me? I double dog dare you."

Of course, I've never sent, nor will ever send, any of them. I just write them down, get them out of my system, and then delete them, just as I will this one. Although, it is exciting to wonder what really would happen if such an encounter should ever come to pass. Ah, just the thoughts that my fantasies stem from, and precisely where they should remain. Smiling one last time, I place my cursor over the delete button and click my troubled emotions away.

"YOUR MESSAGE HAS BEEN SENT."

Oh my God! ... NOOOOOOOOO! What the hell just happened? I know I hit the delete button! I had to have hit the delete button! Fuck! I don't even have an "unsend" option associated with this email account. What am I going to do? I'll just have to cancel going to the conference, that's all. Like I can really do that. It's already been prepaid. I'll get fired if I don't go. Plus, Gillian is really looking forward to going, and I promised to share the expense of the hotel room with her. Man, am I in a pickle now.

Ok ... ok ... No need to panic. He'll probably just laugh and forget about the email, not about to be baited into an extramarital affair. He really has no other option but to ignore the teaser, both of us discussing at the onset of our relationship that neither one would ever be unfaithful to our perspective spouses. Of course, I could always send a disclaimer email, admitting to a temporary lapse in judgment. Yeah, that will make me feel much better.

"Please disregard my last email. It is part of a story that I'm writing, and it was never supposed to be sent. Xxxooo"

"YOUR MESSAGE HAS BEEN SENT"

Oh, thank goodness. With over a month left to go before the conference, I wouldn't have been able to sleep a wink worrying about his reaction to that first email.

You read the email again and again, then finally smile when you do decide how you'll eat your cake and have it to. The second message only serves to make you laugh.

The lounge is unusually crowded for a hotel bar with great dance music playing in the background, a silent football game on the big screen TV and a busy pool table in the far corner. Gillian raises her Corona to clink against my glass of wine, toasting to the end of day one of the conference. And it is only 4pm. So much time left to party. Most of the attendees from the conference have gathered around the bar, virtually taking over the entire lounge. It's noisy ... it's festive and I'm feeling incredibly carefree, temporarily removed from my day-to-day responsibilities.

After 3 glasses of wine and a huge ass-kicking in pool, Gillian and I return to the bar to catch up on the latest gossip. Her attention keeps darting to a lone, male figure sitting down at one of the corner tables.

"Shannon, I think that guy is staring at us. He's giving me the creeps."

I look in the direction of her gaze and spot you immediately, and yes, you are staring at us. At me. And very intensely. I become noticeably nervous which in turn, puts Gillian ill at ease.

"What's wrong, Shannon? Do you know that guy?"

I tell her about my email mishap and my suspicion that you may have taken me up on my dare.

"Shit, Shannon. Are you insane? You don't know anything about him. He could be a psychopathic killer!"

"I know ... I know. It was an accident. What am I going to do?"

We both look back over to you, watching as you crook your finger, signaling for me to come forward. Still unsure and in denial, I point at myself and mouth the word, "me?" You nod.

"Gillian, I'm going to have to go talk to him. Don't let me leave here alone with him."

"Don't worry, Sista. I'll protect you."

I smile at her false bravado, both of us knowing that I have most likely gotten myself in way over both of our heads. Hesitantly, I slip off the barstool and head for your table. With each step, the air gets thicker, and my ability to breathe becomes more hampered. Your eyes never leave mine as you watch me make my slow progress. Halfway to the table, I consider bolting to my room, but I can't. I inadvertently asked you to come ... dared you to come, and your eyes won't let me run. They have me rooted to the spot.

Impatient, you get up from the table and meet me, taking a firm grasp of my left wrist, and lead me to the dance floor. It's a tiny section of the lounge, and just as well that no other couple is currently dancing. You press up close to me and pull my arms straight down and against my sides, holding me now by both wrists, and begin to sway to the music.

"Don?" I gasp out in a whisper.

You say nothing and continue to dance. I silently whimper as I feel your body heat begin to penetrate my clothing as your aroused breathing is exhaled into my hair. What have I gotten myself into? Can I resist it now that it has become a reality? Will I survive it if I don't?

"Don? Say something ... please."

Again, just silence and swaying. I feel my body instantly respond to you, coming alive and rapidly moistening. Oh God, you could fuck me right there, on the dance floor, and I wouldn't care. But instead, the song ends and you pull away, placing something in my hand before you leave the lounge.

Alone on the dance floor, I look down to see that you've given me a piece of paper wrapped around your room key. On the paper are two things, your room number and a time, 11pm. Shit. I look up and start walking back over to the bar and to Gillian, quickly hiding the note and room key in my rear pants' pocket.

I sit back down, all discombobulated, and Gillian waits expectantly for the scoop.

"I'm not sure it's him, Gillian. I think he is just some weirdo who wanted to dance. I'm probably letting my imagination run away from me."

Ashamed by my blatant lie, I pick up my glass and chug the contents away. I can't let her become involved. It's too dangerous, and she is just an innocent bystander. She seems okay with my feeble explanation, so we continue on with our partying and, somewhat distracted conversation until well after 11pm.

After helping my intoxicated girlfriend into bed, I breathe a huge sigh of relief as she immediately passes out into a deep slumber. Then I look at my watch. Shit. 11:45pm. Dare I go? I have to go.

"You're late." Your voice utters from somewhere in the darkness.

"I know, I'm sorry. I had to wait for Gillian to fall asleep. She never would have let me come."

"Well, please enter and have a seat on the bed."

I walk into a very dark room, with only the bed visible in the pale red light. I can just barely make out your silhouette sitting over by the table, shrouded in darkness.

"Why are you hiding yourself? We've already met."

"Do you see the blindfold on the bed? Put it on."

"Don, I'm not sure about this. You're kind of scaring me."

"Good. Put it on or leave."

Suddenly, I am able to sympathize with the thousands of others who have succumbed to their passions, fearful yet thrilled by their illicit behavior, unable to deny the lure of experiencing the taboo. I walk on over to the bed and place the blindfold over my eyes, an elastic back keeping it tightly in place. Tentatively, I sit on the edge of the bed and wait.

"Crawl to the middle of the bed, Shannon. Then get up onto your knees and strip for me."

Oh, God. This is so intense. I don't think I can go through with it.

"Don ..."

"Come on, baby. You've done it for me a hundred times already. You can do this. Pretend we're on the phone."

"Yes ... I can do that ... just like the phone ... yes ..." I whisper, encouraging myself to submit to the irresistible pull of my walking, talking fantasy.

I crawl to the middle of the bed, rise up onto my knees and slowly begin to unbutton my blouse. I behave as if in a trance, hypnotized solely by your magnetic will.

"Oh, yes, baby." you begin to utter at the first sign of newly exposed skin. I completely remove my shirt and toss it off to the side, then begin to work on my bra. My breathing is very irregular, my mouth held partially open while I complete my task. As my breasts are revealed to you, now it is your turn to groan.

"Fuck, baby. Are your nipples always that hard?"

Blushing, I nod, not yet confident that I can trust my voice.

"Pinch them for me. Pull them out ... as far as they'll stretch. Feed me your nipples, baby."

"Oh, Don." I sigh, as I begin to pinch, twist and pull them.

"Harder."

"OHH ..."

"Harder!"

I squeal, pulling on my nipples so hard that I fear they'll rip off. I arch backwards with my effort, my ass falling to sit on my feet. A single tear hovers in the corner of my right eye, threatening to spill over.

"Ah, that's good, baby. Now rub them, make them feel better."

My whimpers soon turn to moans as I make love to my tits, stroking them, caressing them and twisting my nipples. Each new movement sends an electric shock straight to my pussy, flooding it with liquid fire. Never have I come so close to orgasm from such simple stimulation to my breasts.

"Back up on your knees, Shannon. I want to see what's hiding under those jeans."

Regrettably, I abandon my nipples and return to a somewhat cognizant state. I wish I could see you. How I'd love to stare into your eyes while I pleasure myself for your enjoyment, witnessing firsthand your level of arousal.

I begin to fumble with the buttons of my jeans, undoing all five, and then attempt to wriggle my ass free from their tight confinement. After a short struggle, I manage to get my jeans pushed down to mid thigh.

"Face the wall so I can see your ass."

Awkwardly, I rotate on my knees until I'm facing the opposite direction.

"Beautiful ass, baby. Now lose the jeans and the thong and keep your ass facing me and high in the air."

Finding flexibility that I was unaware I possessed, I manage to strip completely naked and remain kneeling, facing the wall.

"Oh, baby, you are so sexy. Back up to the edge of the bed and then kneel on all fours. I want a good look at my ass and pussy. Oh yes ... oh God, yes."

You must have moved from your sitting position, because suddenly I can feel your breath between my legs. I'm mortified by the close scrutiny, and turn the appropriate shade of red to prove it. I try to say your name, but it gets caught in my throat and momentarily chokes me.

"Lean down, Shannon. Face on the bed, ass in the air, and spread those cheeks for me."

"Don ... No ..."

"Yes, Shannon." A stinging slap is delivered to my impertinent ass. Shit.

"Ok, ok." I lean forward and place my face on the bedspread, then reach behind to expose myself to you.

"Mmmmmm ... Slip a finger into your pussy. That's right, get it nice and wet. Fuck yourself with it, baby. Oh yeah."

Slurping noises fill the room as my finger plunges into my incredibly wet cavern. I start to moan, despite my humiliation.

"Now fuck your ass with it, Shannon. In ... that's it ... deeper, baby. Give it all you got. Push it ... press it in. Oh God. So sweet, baby. Just like on camera. You fuck yourself so perfectly. And you do it for me. AHH ..."

I hear various noises as you unzip your fly and pull out your cock, stroking it in matching rhythm to my thrusting finger.

"Oh, that's it, my sexy fuck. Keep fucking that sweet ass. I'm going to cum all over it in a second. OHH ... Oh yeah ... Oh, baby ... UHH, uHH, UHH ...UHH ... UHH!!!!!! OHH ... Oh, God."

I jump as I feel the sizzling contact your cum makes with my ass, shot after shot, glob after glob covering my bare bottom. When you're spent, you re-adjust yourself, dragging the chair closer to the edge of the bed and return to sitting and watching.

"Ok, baby, spread my cum all over. Massage it into your ass ... your legs. Smell it. Taste it. I want you to taste my cum."

I rub your creamy white seed over as much of my body as possible, still in the bowed down position, then take the last remaining bit and hold it to my lips. With gusto, I lick my fingers clean, inhaling deeply, and begin to purr.

"Ok, baby, now it's your turn. You're going to cum for me and you're going to cum hard. Turn over and lie down on your back, spread your legs and masturbate for me. I want to watch your body quiver ... I want to watch your body shake ... I want to watch your body convulse as it climaxes for me."

Already so close to orgasm, I barely have to touch myself and I'm already on the brink, floating into that erotic abyss. My clit is rock hard, pulsing with need. My lips are covered with free-flowing juices, glistening, winking seductively at you through the dimly lit room. My fingers work their magic as they rub my clit and pull at my swollen nether lips, wrenching from deep within a cry so powerful ... so sensual ... that your cock immediately becomes hard again. You watch as I lose myself to ecstasy, shuddering and then finally collapsing against the comforter.

I lie there for several minutes in total silence. I have no idea what you're thinking ... what you're planning to do next. I'm totally exhausted and completely satiated, but I know that all it would take is one word from you and I'd be right back there ... right back to that ravenous hunger. Right back to that place of unquenched desire and need. Right back to that terminal ache. Right back to hell. Right back to bliss.

You spare me another nerve-wracking encounter, however, and tell me that I am free to get dressed. The last words I hear as I leave the room are, "Make sure that pussy is shaved when you come to me tomorrow night."

I pass through the next day in a trance, existing in a state of pure energy ... pure feeling. I can't concentrate on anything other than the incredible ache in my pussy and the smell of my arousal as it leaks down my thighs. Fuck ... how have I become reduced to this ... this state of sexual expectancy ... sexual need? Nothing else matters but to feed this hunger ... this newly unleashed beast tearing me open from the inside out. God, what will it take to satisfy it's insatiable thirst? With a shaky hand, I place the room key in your door and unlock my fate.

Again, the room is dark, except for the illicit glow from the soft, red bulb. As soon as the door closes behind me, your voice takes over.

"Stop right there and undress. Then I want you to turn your attention to the objects placed on the chair there to your left."

Immediately, the instant dread I felt upon entering the room is replaced with an overwhelming, gut-wrenching desire. A desire for what? To be fucked? To be taken? Or is it a desire to completely surrender myself? God, I don't know, but I'm suddenly feeling impatient to get there. I shed my clothes quickly and then reach for the objects on the chair. Taking a little time for my eyes to adjust to the dim light, I am finally able to make them all out.

"Put on the collar first."

I tentatively pick up the collar, quite aware of the implications of the leash dangling from it, and fasten it around my neck. Shit.

"Oh yeah ... that's my little slut ... my little animal. Now, you see the two dildos there? The one with the tassels is for your ass. I suggest you insert it first. The only lubricant you're going to get is from your own pussy."

I pick up the degrading dildo and inspect it closely. It's pretty impressive in size, nothing frightening or overwhelming, but I'm definitely going to notice its presence. About 1 inch around and 5 inches in length, then tapering down to 1/2 an inch thick at the bottom, where several, foot-long, multi-colored tassels dangle mockingly. Taking a deep breath, I insert the dildo into my pussy, covering it in my creamy juices.

Mmmmmm ... I momentarily get lost in the pleasure of gripping the slender cock with my muscles, until the impatient clearing of your throat forces me back to the mission at hand. Then I begin to slowly insert it into my ass. OoooooHH ... God ... perfect ... the perfect size. I wiggle my hips to get everything to settle into place, face flaming when I feel the tassels swish across the backs of my thighs. Fuck ... I've got a tail.

I hear a slight groan from your darkened corner and then, "Hurry. I'm getting impatient."

The second cock is shorter and much fatter, probably 2 inches around, flaring out to 21/2 inches near the bottom, and then tapering off back to 2 again, where only a string loop exists for easy removal. This dildo is probably only 4 inches long. Silently I thank the powers to be that this was not the cock with the tassels.

I then begin to work it inside me, this task proving a tad more difficult than the previous. I suck in my breath as my pussy is stretched wide ... then wider ... finally closing around the very thick base. Oh, God, I'm in heaven. These cocks feel as if they were specifically designed for the contours of my body. I can't help but sigh as I wriggle my hips again and reach for my breasts.