The Half Marathon

By the following weekend, I had put my bit of accidental voyeurism into perspective and rationalised my silly overreaction to it. Unfortunately all that good work was lost the moment that Mike started running alongside me the on the Saturday morning for I was quickly assailed by a mental picture of his gorgeously large genitals bouncing and swaying between his thighs as he moved, and no matter what mind techniques I tried to employ, the image refused to go away. Sunday was the same and on both days I made poor conversation. On neither occasion did we run up to the rock, mainly because some sense of self preservation caused me to run determinedly past the stile. That week I rather exhausted Jim with my sexual demands and for the first time in my marriage started regularly masturbating once he was safely asleep.

Mike seemed content to follow my lead so Saturday morning found us running uphill again. With him always running alongside or slightly behind I had little opportunity to see him from the front so this time, nearing the top, I put on a spurt and reached the rock a good few paces ahead. I quickly turned round and looked intently to see if I could see sign of his penis moving under the thin shorts material.

"You're looking rather preoccupied," Mike remarked as he walked up.

I took a deep breath. "I was rather hoping you might break your shoelace again."

Mike looked at me in surprise for a moment but then grinned and stepped forward to place a foot high on the rock in an identical pose to before. It is ridiculous that seeing his cock again actually took my breath away for a moment and even when I knew I was breathing normally again, I still had a heart pounding hot headed feeling. Mike allowed me a minute of penile adoration before asking, "What would your husband say if he saw you gazing at my cock?"

"He wouldn't be happy but he couldn't really say anything," I replied defensively. "I know he's been to strip clubs with colleagues more than once and lots of women watch male strippers. The rule seems to be that as long as you just look and don't touch there's nothing to be ashamed of."

I was allowed several more minutes of study, during which I saw his penis react to my scrutiny without actually going stiff. It ended when Mike stepped down suddenly complaining that he was getting cramp. He sat down beside me for a minute or two, rubbing his thigh and then said semi-humorously, "I've shown you mine so you really ought to show me yours."

While not averse to his suggestion I told him, "You wouldn't see much because I'm wearing panties under my shorts and I'm certainly not undressing here where anybody can see."

He said he would settle for panties so, with some laughter, we arranged ourselves with him lying on the ground and me sitting self consciously in front of him with knees bent and thighs well spread. "I like it, so nice and moist" he said and I blushed at the realisation that he now knew just how wet looking at his endowment had made me. I allowed him a long lecherous look but when I finally closed my legs he said that although he had thoroughly enjoyed what he did see, he still felt that I owed him. I quickly promised that next time I wouldn't wear panties.

I think during that week my twat underwent more scrutiny from my eyes than in the previous thirty-three years of my life. Every opportunity I was checking and re-checking, constantly combing and trimming, trying to ensure that it was neat enough to put on display. At one point I even balanced in front of my dressing table mirror, bent double and looking at the refection from between my legs to see what it looked like from behind.

By the time that Saturday arrived I could hardly contain my feelings of excitement. On meeting we barely spoke but both of us set off running with an extra sense of urgency. "You first," Mike called as we neared the rock and I'd primed myself for this moment so much that to delay would have been a disappointment. I sat for a long in the same pose as before, my body on fire purely from the unconcealed lust and desire in his eyes. At one point he reached out a hand and I flinched but he only wanted to ease the crotch of my shorts slightly to the side. He had made appreciative noises throughout but when I brought my little self exhibition to a close, Mike delivered judgment saying, "The female pudenda is the most compulsive sight in the world but some are somewhat less than aesthetic. I've got to say that yours has got to be the prettiest little pussy I've ever seen." I wanted to throw my arms round him in pleasure.

When Mike posed for my benefit this time his cock was fully erect. Seeing his male organ for the first in all its rampant glory affected me and, strictly of its own volition, my hand reached up and grasped it. That touch lasted only for the briefest second because I instantly released my grip as if it were a red hot poker. This is an apt allegory because his penis was completely rigid and radiating heat. Next moment I was running blindly down the hill trying to escape the feelings that had threatened to overwhelm me.

Mike caught up with me as I reached the track and started running alongside but with a tactful amount of separation between us. "I know what's wrong because I wanted to do the same," he argued gently. "We made the mistake of being too close. If we went somewhere more private and looked at each other from further apart there wouldn't be the same temptation to touch." I was eager to grasp any excuse that would allow our game to continue.

On Sunday I again left off underwear and set off with almost the same anticipation as the previous day. This time Mike took the lead and shortly before reaching the rock he veered off into almost shoulder high bracken, creating a path until we reached a small flattened area. Without ceremony we both removed our shorts and sat down facing with our feet almost touching. It was nice being able to look at each other simultaneously but while he could undoubtedly see my cunt better his cock looked less impressive without the dangle effect it had when he was standing. It also didn't help that, although he was certainly aroused, his penis lacked the stiffness of the day before. It was pleasant but after a few minutes I began to feel slightly bored. I think he must have felt the same because he suddenly said, "Please play with yourself."

"I will if you do," I bargained. He was happy to comply but even had he refused I might still have granted his request because my vagina was aching to be touched, if only by my own fingers. For the next ten to fifteen minutes we each lay and masturbated for the others visual pleasure. I got very close but couldn't manage to actually cum because, for some reason, the real sight of him tossing off proved less efficacious than the mental fantasies I used at home. Suddenly Mike gave a moan and I watched a jet of white semen arc through the air like an Icelandic geyser, to be followed by several lesser spurts. The sight triggered what seemed like an avalanche of orgasms and I flopped back with body heaving, eyes closed and fingers buried deep inside myself. Afterwards we both seemed a little subdued (or overwhelmed) as we dressed but I managed to lighten the mood by pointing to where his initial gush of semen had splashed across a large stone and remarked how appropriately he had marked our territory.

There was no rain at all that week so when we next arrived at our secret place, his cum could still be seen crusted on the stone and I touched it symbolically before removing my shorts. We took up facing positions but had only been playing with ourselves for a few minutes when I scrambled to lie beside him saying, "I'd like to do that for you."

Mike hesitated and then said, "I'm very happy to let you but are you really sure it's what you want. Have you given it enough thought?"

"I've thought of nothing else all week and I've decided it's Okay," I told him. "Since that American president lots of people agree that touching and even oral isn't really adultery."

He quickly provided the rational that I lacked saying, "I can understand that. Pregnancy and inheritance are the only reasons that so many civilisations have strictures about infidelity. With touching and oral that isn't an issue."

I immediately grabbed hold of his member but was disappointed not to have the same immediate tactile reaction as with that previous brief touch. One reason may have been that he was not as potently stiff as before – but my caresses soon corrected that situation. My sworn intention was to do no more than wank him but when the first glistening globule of pre-cum welled up from his slit, vow forgotten, my mouth descended upon it as if it were nectar of the gods. From then on I sucked him unashamedly and after a few minutes he squirmed round to reciprocate on me. When he got close, Mike warned and asked if he should pull out but my answer was to lock my hands behind his buttocks to prevent any chance of escape. That first rush of hot cum into my mouth is indescribable but it provoked an absolutely massive orgasm. Mike happily claimed that this was entirely due to his oral ministrations and I didn't disabuse him.

We did mutual oral every time after that but the truth is that Mike is not very talented with his mouth, at least he's nowhere near as good as Jim. That is probably not a fair comparison because my husband has had over twelve years learning exactly what I like. Another factor is that with Jim I just lie and enjoy it but, in our bracken hideaway, I was always distracted by deriving more pleasure from sucking Mike's cock.

I hope what I have just said doesn't give the impression that I was selfish in my marriage. I didn't dislike having my husband's dick in my mouth but I didn't derive a lot of actual enjoyment except at times the satisfaction of having him completely under my control and of course the knowledge that I was giving him pleasure. The truth is that Jim prefers to use his tongue on my pussy without distraction. His constant moans show that he gets an inordinate amount of pleasure from the activity and if it was just foreplay he wouldn't need to spend half as long doing it. Also sometimes he does have premature ejaculation problems and I think he feels that getting me off that way makes the fucking bit less important.

What I don't actually understand is why I enjoy Mike's cum flooding into my mouth so much but always try to avoid sucking my husband to completion. It can't be personality. It may be diet but I always cook healthy food so I believe it has to be a healthier lifestyle that makes Mike's semen less acrid and far far nicer tasting. That same reasoning also works for quantity and texture.

It was the Sunday of the weekend before the schools broke up for the summer break. We were in our den with my lover's cock as usual half way down my throat when I suddenly rolled away and told him, "I want it inside me."

This time Mike didn't argue and actually got his legs in a tangle as he urgently scrambled to get on top of me. I was very wet and he had already opened me up with his fingers but I was surprised at the ease with which his huge cock slid into me. There was no sensation of it having to force a way but boy did I feel full when it was in. Before he had done even six thrusts I had a massive orgasm and this immediately triggered him and the orgasm seemed to go on and on as what felt like gallons of cum found somewhere to go inside me. His cock didn't shrink, in fact it stayed stiff as we lay there holding each other. After I felt it twitch and I responded by giving a squeeze with my vaginal muscles and over the next fifteen minutes I experienced the most deliciously sensuous interlude of my life with us lying quite still as our sexual organs conducted a hidden conversation.

Eventually he started moving again. I had already felt his cum oozing out of me and trickling down to my anus but now the fucking action caused a lewd squelching noise and we both laughed with a kind of erotic embarrassment. This time he continued for quite a long time and this ejaculation when it came felt to have almost as much volume as the first. I lost count of the number of times he made me cum altogether. At the end he tried to kiss me but I turned my face away, explaining that I had to keep something for my husband. It's a measure of Mike's character that he immediately understood.

I was over half an hour late when I reached home and walked up the garden path with a feeling of trepidation, convinced that signs of my infidelity would show like a neon sign on my face. Jim was busy in the kitchen but he saw nothing of the sort, not even enquiring why I was late. Instead he gave me a loving smile saying, "Everything's under control. I fixed breakfast for the kids and they're watching TV as usual."

Instead of relief I felt irritated by his complacency. Surely if he loved me as much as he claimed, my husband's male instinct should have let him know that little more than half an hour before I was lying ecstatically in the bracken with another man's huge cock squirting high up inside me. Invariably on returning from a run I went straight to the shower but this time I poured some fruit juice from the fridge and went to stand with my back against the sink. There was an undoubted pleasurable defiance posing in front of my husband with the knowledge that I almost certainly had large quantities of Mike's cum still inside me. A deep part of my nature even hoped that some would start trickling down my leg for him to see. The events of the morning were so momentous that at that moment I would rather be discovered and face my husband's recrimination than for it all to pass unremarked. "It really is a wonderful day," I said brightly.

"We are having rather an exceptional summer," Jim agreed.

"A day like this is so satisfying," I went on. "It's exhilarating. Makes you feel glad to be alive."

"If it's that good, perhaps we should scrap lunch and have a bar-b-cue instead." Jim seemed determined to drag my mind back to family when I wanted it to stay with my lover for a little while longer, so I drained the glass and left. In the shower I thankfully recovered my senses.

The next day was the first of the summer break and I had already told Jim that I intended to intensify my training by doing the early morning run every day. Ever since Easter, although there had been occasional rain midweek, weekend after weekend had been completely dry and even the newspapers remarked on the exceptional run of good weather. This was the day that it broke and my heart sank when I woke to the sound of pounding rain. Mike and I had agreed to start meeting half an hour sooner but with little prospect of sex I was very tempted to stay in bed.

As I neared the start of the track with rain streaming down my face, the headlights of a car parked ahead flashed me and I knew it was Mike. He took me to his house and we had sex in a bed for the first time. Over the next weeks we got together five times every week and, due to the weather, spent slightly more time in his bed than lying on bracken. There were times when I had to deliberately step in his shower fully clothed before leaving to ensure I was authentically wet before returning to my loving husband. Mike was a writer and worked from home. He did free lance articles for magazines, proof read for other authors and filled in with web page design but two days every week he had to spend in London, attending meetings and picking up manuscripts. Jim wanted to go abroad for at least a week during the holidays but, on the basis of my training, I persuaded him to settle for days out. This meant I could still get my morning fuck without it interfering with the children's pleasures.

Mike preferred copulation and I too was very partial to that activity because he made me delirious with pleasure but from a mental point of view I liked worshipping his cock with my hands and mouth slightly more. I loved looking at it, touching it and sucking it. His balls were so big that even singly I daren't put them in my mouth for fear of hurting them with my teeth but I licked every single millimetre. I particularly enjoyed nuzzling my nose underneath his testicles just to inhale his slightly sweaty masculine aroma but most of all I loved feeling the elixir of life gush hotly from inside his body onto my eagerly awaiting tongue.

During those precious weeks I had two periods, so that meant a total of ten days when that wonderful cock was mine to do with as I liked. One of these times when my pussy was out of bounds, Mike wanted to try anal. Unfortunately we were in our mountain den at the time with no lubrication available except spit and it hurt so bad that I never dared try it again. Another trick I mastered was to take my lover's long penis almost completely into my throat until my nose was touching his body. As long as he didn't move I could control the feeling of panic and once held that position for almost four minutes. It invariably ended with me retching up strings of slimy saliva but Mike didn't seem to mind because he was always asking if I wanted to swallow him again.

After the above you may wonder if I still loved my husband but I can honestly say that going with Mike actually made me love Jim more. I don't think I actually loved Mike at all. I liked him as a person and I loved being with him but I can't say that I ever felt a sense of care towards him. Over the years, often during the day I would wonder what my husband was doing at that moment, if he was having problems or if he was feeling happy. With Mike I only ever thought of him to wish we were together and had I learned that he was in desperate trouble, my only concern would have been whether he would still be available to fuck me the following morning. I did like having sex with two men during the same day.

Often when Jim had his small cock inside me and was struggling to do what Mike had achieved so easily that morning, I would feel a great surge of tenderness, crush my husband to me and try to make it extra special for him. In fairness I must also confess something far less admirable. I always showered after being with my lover but I didn't douche so when Jim was sucking my cunt that night he had to be ingesting some remnant of Mike's semen along with my juices and, due to some aberrant streak in my nature, I always derived a perverse thrill from that fact.

Towards the end of the long school break, Mike started saying that he wished we could have longer together and how much he would like to go to sleep at night with his cock still in me. Thinking this through, I told my husband that the marathon organisers had fixed a meeting on Friday afternoon to talk about arrangements for the run, feeding stations and such, going on to say that there was also a dinner and social get together in the evening. I offered come home straight after the meeting but as expected he told me to book a hotel room and stay for the do, generously adding that he could certainly take care of the kids on his own for one night. It would have been easiest to just spend my free time at Mike's house but we decided it safest to really get a hotel room where Jim could contact me and for my lover to book a room in the same hotel.

The Tuesday and Wednesday were the days that Mike was away so I was looking forward to Thursday when he and I could talk about our forthcoming night together but after the kids were in bed on Wednesday evening; my husband dropped his bombshell by asking if I was having an affair. I had promised myself that I wouldn't lie should this situation ever occur so I answered truthfully, "It's not an affair but I am getting fucked by someone else."

"How long has it been going on?"

"About five weeks."

"That sounds like an affair to me."