Restless Pussy Syndrome

All of us develop our personalities and character with a unique mix of genetics and environment. Some of us have genetic conditions that make it impossible for us to perform according to societal norms regardless of our environment. Others of us, because of our genetic makeup, thrive in environments that should beat us down, and become super achievers and better people than could possibly be predicted. Most of us fall within those extremes, developing some desired traits due to our up-bringing while other desirable qualities are in-born, and vice-versa for undesirable behaviors.

My unique blend of genetics and environment is a classic example of competing factors when it comes to one important character trait - fidelity. I was brought up and aspired to be a paragon of faithfulness. It was ingrained in everything that I was not only taught by words, but by real-life examples. My parents constantly preached fidelity, as far as I know even to this day practiced it. I had an aunt and uncle, and a neighborhood couple with kids about my age, split because of it with disruption of many lives. "Don't let it ever happen to you, Amy," was my parents' favorite refrain.

Despite the environment that I was raised in, once I became sexually aware at my eighteenth birthday, I found that I was attracted to many different guys. While intellectually I was convinced of the desirability - in fact need - for fidelity, my emotional make-up seemed to be constantly questioning it. Therefore I went from boyfriend to boyfriend all through my last year of High School and college, almost never dating anyone exclusively, and the two guys that I did date exclusively I lasted only four months with each before I broke it off. I never cheated while I was exclusive with them, although I was sorely tempted.

Just before my last semester in college I met Brett. His looks were exactly to my liking, tall, blond, blue-eyed, with a medium build. He was also funny and charming. We soon became exclusive, and I have to say that I really enjoyed sex with him. He loved to eat pussy and to do doggy; I loved having my pussy eaten and my pussy entered from the rear; so we were very compatible. The day after graduation, he proposed. I was scared shitless! I said "Yes" because I didn't know what else to do, and because I knew that my parents and friends really liked him, and his family and friends liked me.

I had much more than pre-marital jitters, in part because I found some other guys that I had recently met very attractive - although I never went out with them because of my exclusive relationship with Brett. However, my parents and friends all assured me that my jitters were completely normal - how they would know when they didn't know the depth of my apprehension I'm not sure - and they were insistent enough and Brett was persuasive and kind enough so that I went through with the nuptials. Therefore, by the time that I was twenty two I was married.

I'd have to say that, in balance, my married life with Brett was somewhere between very good and comfortable. A significant complication arose, however, after Brett and I had been together between three and four years. The complication's name was Justin.

Justin looked quite a bit like Brett, only slightly more handsome and more muscular. I became acquainted with him when he was a summer intern law school student at the law firm where I worked as a paralegal. He was a year older than I was and had been married for three plus years himself. I don't know if it was his pheromones, or what, but I was instantly attracted to him, and if I had met him in college I most assuredly would have fucked him on our second date. He seemed to be as enamored with me as I was with him.

While we did some significant flirting the first few weeks he worked at the law firm during the summer, I started to realize how dangerous it was, and therefore started to try and avoid him. It turned out not to be too hard to do since it appeared that he started doing the same thing. I confirmed that he was taking the same approach as I was when I inadvertently heard him talking with another summer associate in the file room when they didn't know that I was there.

"I haven't seen you hanging around Amy much anymore, Justin, what gives?"

"Well, she and I are both married and happy with our spouses and any attraction we felt for each other would be a bad idea," Justin replied.

"You weren't sleeping with her, were you Justin?"

"Of course not; now if I wasn't married I sure would love to take her out because she is not only as hot as a habanero pepper, but really fun too. I started to see danger signs - and I think that she did too - so I've cooled it."

"Smart man, dude," Justin's friend replied, and then changed the subject as they walked back to their cubicles.

Our "smart" approach was not to last, however. About two weeks after we were avoiding each other, one of the partners assigned both Justin and me - and only the two of us - as support personnel for an important case. It was one that required us to interact at least a few hours a day, and even a few late nights just before a trial was about to begin. The sexual tension was palpable during two late night sessions when we were alone together in an otherwise deserted office. I'm quite sure that if either of us had made even the slightest overt advance during that time - in my case all that it would have taken would have been our bodies touching for an instant - that we would have been wildly fucking on the nearest desk with litigation documents strewn all over the place. Each of those two nights when I finally left the office I considered myself extremely lucky that I got through another day without fucking him.

Fortunately, after the second late night working together, the case settled so that we only had to work together a few more hours - during normal business time - to get the case documents properly organized and stored away.

Justin and I had lunch together his last day before he returned to law school for his last semester. We ended up having a frank exchange.

After we had just gotten through talking about some current event, Justin took a sip of his wine and then stared at me. I met his gaze. "We kind of were playing with fire when we were working together, weren't we?" he said more than asked.

I decided to be coy, but I'm sure that my diabolical grin gave me away. "What do you mean, playing with fire?"

He probably would end up being a great attorney because he caught on to my bullshit after about a ten second pause. "I think that you know exactly what I mean, Amy. We were very close to ending up in bed naked."

My smile grew even more diabolical as I replied, "Actually, Justin, we were more in danger of fucking on a desk with most of our clothes still on than getting into a bed naked."

"Touché," he laughed, and then continued. "It took every ounce of willpower that I had not to passionately kiss you and start fondling you the night before the case settled."

"I'm glad that you had the willpower, because if you had done that there was no way that I could have resisted," I replied, now serious. After a very pregnant pause I said "Let's talk about something else."

I was relieved when our lunch ended and Justin only gave me a public hug - because his cock was rock hard and if we had been somewhere private things would have gotten real messy, as a cock in a pussy tends to get. He was gone about thirty minutes after we got back to the office.

* * * * *

For the next four months in my free time I alternately dreamt about fucking Justin, trying to purge my mind of the idea of fucking him, and thanking my lucky stars that I hadn't cheated on Brett by fucking Justin. There actually was an upside to my preoccupation with Justin. My sex life with Brett got much better, although I'm sure that he wouldn't have liked the reason for it. I rode him cowgirl or reverse cowgirl (which had become his favorite positions, even more so than doggy) about every other day, closing my eyes and imagining that it was Justin.

Unfortunately, my "luck" changed again.

Justin graduated from law school a little more than four months after I saw him last, and he landed a job at another law firm in my city, with an office only about four blocks away from mine. His first assignment was to help a partner with a lawsuit against a client of the firm that I worked for - one that I was the only paralegal on. I found this out when I accompanied a partner in the firm I worked for to a meeting at Justin's new firm's office. We cringed when we saw each other.

By the end of the meeting Justin and I were tasked with providing each other with a stack of documents and confirming receipt of them. When we were alone I asked him "Did you ask to be assigned to this case?"

"Hell no, Amy; things are as dangerous now as they were last summer," he replied, while scanning my body.

"Can you get out of it, Justin?"

"No; it's my first assignment in a new job. It would be professional suicide for me to do that. Can you get out of the case? You're in a better position than I am."

"I'll give it a try. What would I say to John?" John being the partner in charge of the case.

With a sick grin Justin replied "Tell him you're too tempted to fuck an attorney on the other side and don't want to ruin your marriage."

"Yeah, that would sure work, you bozo," I said, returning his sick grin.

I really did try to get out of the case.

It didn't work.

Not only didn't it work but both Justin and I were put in charge of document exchanges for the entire case, requiring us to interact often, and sometimes at odd hours.

One Wednesday night when a dispute we were having about certain documents resulted in us not being careful, we bumped into each other and almost lost it. Justin grabbed me and kissed me - passionately - and I returned his kiss in kind. Fortunately we weren't the only ones still working. We heard voices approaching the conference room we were working in, and broke our clinch just in time. Two other attorneys pulled Justin out of the room and I tried hard to cool down by the time that he returned about five minutes later.

When he walked back into the room he sheepishly asked "What are we going to do about our problem?"

"How badly do you want to fuck me, Justin?"

"I want to fuck you more than I've wanted anything else in my life," he quickly replied, followed up with "And you?"

"I feel the same way, but I can't cheat on Brett - I feel strongly about that. However, this can't go on."

After a full minute of us just staring at each other he seemed to get an idea - almost like a light bulb turned on over his head. "Why don't we ask our spouses for a legal separation? After the papers are filed we'll move in together for a few months. If things work out between us we'll get divorced from our spouses and be together; if they don't work out we'll reconcile with our spouses."

"Would that work with your wife?" I asked while wondering to myself how Brett could possibly go along with it.

"I really don't know, but I'm willing to ask. And you?"

"Same here, Justin."

"Shall we try this weekend?"

"Yeah, let's. I've got to do something; I need to fuck you, but I can't cheat!" I responded with false conviction because I wasn't sure that I could actually ask Brett.

That Friday night I made sure to give Brett the best sex of his life. I was a tiger as I sucked him hard, then rode him reverse cowgirl while massaging his balls and pulsating my pussy muscles as vigorously as I could. Then I sucked his cock clean once he had ejaculated into me. I woke him up in the middle of the night and fucked him again, and once more cleaned off his slick cock with my tongue and lip action.

Saturday afternoon, when he came in from some yard work, and I had just finished working out, I summoned up every ounce of courage that I could. After I served him a cool frosted glass of lemonade I hit him with the line that everyone dreads - "Brett, honey; we have to talk." I would have liked to have been more original, but a lexicographer I'm not.

"That sounds ominous," he replied.

"Yeah; I know. Actually it is kind of ominous. In my defense, before I start, let me say two things. I never - and I mean never - have cheated on you since we became exclusive before we got married. Also, you've been a good husband, and you don't really deserve a wife with my vacillating feelings and emotions."

"Oh shit," I heard Brett mumble under his breath as he slid down in his chair and turned pale.

"I...I guess I just have to be frank about it, Brett. Despite my best efforts - and I really have tried for several months - I've become enamored with this guy I met by the name of Justin. I...I...I can't get the idea of fucking him out of my mind, but by the same token I can't cheat on you. What I propose is a legal separation for a few months so I can hopefully get him out of my system. I...I really hope that you can go along with that because the alternatives are bad - really bad."

Brett had this really sick look on his face - like he was about to throw up. His first words indicated that he was as pained as he looked. "So what's with the great sex the last few months, and especially last night? Was it your swan song to me, or were you thinking of that Justin guy, or what the fuck was it?"

"I just really enjoyed sex with you, Brett," I lied. "I wasn't thinking of anyone else while having sex." Another big lie. "But...but...it doesn't change the fact that I'm infatuated with Justin, and...well, I just have to act on it."

After a pregnant pause the color started to return to Brett's face, probably due to anger. "So let me get this straight, you want to take a break from marriage for a few months to fuck Justin's brains out, and I should just go along with it and then take you back once you've got your rocks off. Is that about it?"

"Yes," I meekly replied unable to make eye contact with him.

"And what about our past history and my personality made you think that I would possible agree to that?" He was now shouting.

"I didn't have any reason to believe that you would. My proposal was a sign of desperation. I didn't want to lose you permanently, and I really don't want to have the thoughts that I'm having - I just had to give it a try."

"So if I don't agree, what then?" he bellowed.

After a long pause, again unable to make eye contact, I murmured "I'll ask one of the attorneys in my office to prepare a divorce petition on the grounds of irreconcilable differences."

He looked stunned, livid, and sad all at the same time when I finally was able to force myself to make eye contact. "I'm really sorry, Brett; I really, really am," I honestly continued, before I started bawling and ran into the exercise room to cry myself out.

We avoided each other for the rest of the weekend. I slept in the guest room; since I was the one with the problem I felt that he should remain in the master bedroom.

The only thing that Brett said to me Monday morning before we both left for work was "Do you really expect me to believe that you are willing to jettison me when you haven't ever fucked him?"

I defiantly glared at him. "I don't know what you will or won't believe. I know for certain that I have not fucked him, and would not fuck him until we either separated with the chance of reconciliation, or I filed for divorce. Once the papers are served I will fuck his brains out." Then my defiant attitude softened as I continued, "And I am really, really sorry about that, and I will be going to a shrink to find out why I couldn't control my feelings."

* * * * *

True to my word, when I got to work I talked to one of the associates at my firm that I knew would be discrete and who specialized in family law and asked him to prepare, file, and serve a simple divorce petition. He didn't question or lecture me. He just looked sad when he said "I'll have everything done except service by four this afternoon; where should I have it served tomorrow?"

"At our house; I don't want to embarrass Brett by having him served at his office. Just do a complete 50-50 split, no alimony either way. Since we rent the house we can vacate it within a month or two with no problems."

"OK, Amy; I'll see to it," he glumly replied.

I called Justin's cell phone immediately after setting the divorce petition in motion. "I hope that you can break free because I just ruined my marriage," were my first words, on the verge of tears."

"Can we meet at the park next to my office sometime this morning?" he solemnly inquired.

"I can be there at 10:30," I responded after looking at my appointment book.

"See you then," he replied, and then clicked off.

Both Justin and I had hang-dog looks when we met on a centrally located bench in the park. We held each other's hands; I was near tears. "What happened?" was his simple and direct question.

"After assuring him that I had not acted on it yet, I explained my craving for you and asked Brett for a separation. He was pissed and turned it down flat. I told him I'd be filing for divorce and an attorney in my office will have the papers prepared and filed today, and served tomorrow. What's your situation?"

"Cecil was frantic. She imploded so badly that I had to take her to the Emergency Room, where they sedated her. She's back home now, but won't be going into work today. She begged me not to do it, but agreed to a separation rather than losing me now."

I sighed heavily. "I really hope that we get enough satisfaction from fucking each other to make up for all the hurt," I mumbled. "When can we find out?" I asked.

"I told the people in my firm that I needed a place to stay until I find an apartment. They're letting me use one of the two furnished apartments we keep for out-of-town visitors since we don't have anyone scheduled for a couple of weeks. When can we meet there.Amy?"

"Brett will be served tomorrow night, so Wednesday night it will no longer be cheating," I responded.

"I'll file my legal separation papers tomorrow too. I'll see you Wednesday; what time?"

"As soon as you can get off - I'm leaving at 5:00 p. m. that day no matter what. What's the address?"

Justin handed me a slip of paper with the location information on it, and a key card. He then gave me a quick kiss on the lips and was gone.

I made sure that Brett was home Tuesday night then called the process server. As his car pulled up I said to Brett. "Again, I am truly sorry. I didn't want you to have the embarrassment of being served at work because this is none of your doing - so the process server is coming here now. Please answer the door when he rings."

Brett gave me a pained look, then walked to the front door and went onto the stoop even before the process server arrived.

"Are you Brett Compton?" the guy somberly asked.

"Yes," Brett replied, equally somber.

"This is a service copy of a petition for divorce," the server replied, then turned and left.

I saw Brett look at the document when he returned to the living room. It was only two pages long with nothing acrimonious or unfair - in fact I was hoping that it was more than fair to him. As he walked past me he mumbled "What a shitty way to end a relationship - it's like being hit by lightning!"

Wednesday I arrived at the apartment at 4:40 to make sure that it was what I hoped it would be. It had a nice queen-sized bed, with clean sheets, which was the most important thing. Justin's firm is one of the biggest and richest in town, so the entire place was comfortable and aesthetic. I took a shower and just as I turned off the water the shower curtain flew open.

Justin's eyes were filled with lust.

My pussy started leaking.

He wrapped me in a towel, carried me to the bed, threw me on it and dropped his pants and boxers, not even bothering to take off his shirt and tie, but exposing a cock so hard that it was not just sticking out but pointing upwardly.