Too Great a Temptation Ch. 02

Howard's story

The rain had mostly quit when I set the first of Shelley's logbooks aside and tried to compose myself.

I was shocked at what she had done, shocked, hurt and angry. How could she do this to me, to us? How could I have not suspected anything? Was she that good at deception or was I just willfully blind and blissfully ignorant?

I was completely flummoxed, because I had no idea any of this was going on. At home, Shelley was as loving and attentive as she'd always been, and I'd thought we still had a good sex life for two people of our age.

Actually, I should back up. At that point, I still had no idea of how bad it was. I had only gotten through the first year of her business travels, and there were still six more books to go through.

As of the end of 1998, she had only just been seduced by this Louis Bertelli. I was quickly to learn that he was only the first.

I also struggled to make sense of why she had done this. I don't think it was to spite me. I hadn't done anything to her that would merit that kind of response, and she had never acted angrily, bitterly or sarcastic toward me.

The logs were no help in that regard. They were almost clinical in their brevity. A typical entry usually went something like this:

"Date, place. Met w/So-and-so 3hrs on contract. Had dinner w/So-and-so at hotel, had steak w/wine. Talked about baseball. Went to room and he fucked me 3 times, at least 8 orgasms. Wow!"

That was it. No descriptions, no explanations.

But if the logs gave me no clue as to why Shelley was cheating on me, they told me in breathtaking clarity that whatever I was doing for her sexually wasn't nearly enough.

I was beginning to get a glimmer of understanding that my wife had a far deeper sexual urge than I had ever imagined, and that she got from her lovers what she wasn't getting from me. I needed answers, and I thought maybe the rest of her logbooks might provide some clues.

They didn't, but they did give me a very clear picture of just how far Shelley had gone in pursuit of whatever sexual urges were driving her. It was a lot further than I could have EVER imagined.

Working on the basement was forgotten. I gathered up the logbooks, walked upstairs and started reading about how my wife of 31 years had been betraying me on a regular basis for the past seven years. It was painful reading, but over the next three days, I forced myself to wade through them all.

I began again with the logbook from 1999, and any hope that her fling with Louis Bertelli might have been a one-time thing was dashed right from the start. A trip to Chicago the first week in January confirmed that.

There were a couple of other rendezvous with him in Chicago, then another name began to appear quite regularly, a man named Darrell Poston, who was a client of Shelley's in Washington, D.C.

It was the same as before only much, much quicker - a couple of meetings in his office, a lunch date, then a visit to her hotel room.

There were a couple of things about Darrell Poston that made me pause, however.

For one, he was black, which isn't necessarily bad in itself; I just never thought Shelley would be attracted to a black man.

For another, some of the things he and Shelley have done together are positively outrageous...

Shelley's story

They say that once a spouse cheats on their partner that it becomes easier and less painful.

That is certainly true in my case. Once I crossed the threshold with Louis and cheated on Howard, it was ridiculously easy for me to do it with someone else, in some other town.

Before I did, I forced myself to do some soul searching. I do have a conscience, even though it hasn't always seemed like it. But I knew in my gut that I needed to set some ground rules for myself, some parameters with which to work.

The big thing was, I knew I still loved Howard, no matter what, and I wanted to maintain my marriage, both for his sake and that of the boys.

I thought I could have the best of both worlds, a stable, loving marriage at home and a wild, uninhibited sex life on the road. I know, I was rationalizing and I was being stupefyingly selfish, but that's how my thought processes were working at the time. I didn't want to just throw myself at any man who came along, for several reasons, mostly to do with health and safety, and I didn't really want to throw any of my actions in Howard's face. Like I've said, he's a kind man and the only man I've ever truly loved.

I believed I could compartmentalize my life to the extent that I could love Howard at home, but cheat on him when I traveled. It was a fool's game, and I got away with it for a long time. But lately, it's started falling apart on me, and now I have to face the music.

At any rate, I was no bar pickup girl, and I have tried to be selective in my partners, or at least I was initially. Lately, some things have happened that have made me think I'm losing control of my situation, so perhaps getting caught was a blessing in disguise.

But I'll get to that some other time.

I said the last time that there were several reasons why I started doing this, and why I have kept on for so long. And one of those reasons was the ability to live out some of my long-standing fantasies.

And I've encountered some partners in the course of my travels who have been very willing to help me act out my deepest, darkest desires.

As I became more comfortable in my job, and as I became better at it, I started getting some of the company's bigger accounts. I'm good at my job, and the company values my effort.

One of these big accounts that came my way was a big contract that we have with the Army. It's one of our most profitable accounts - your tax dollars at work - and it requires at lot of attention.

We have a regular liaison with a mid-level bureaucrat in the Secretary of the Army's office that we deal with, and there is also a congressional committee that we periodically report to.

When I first got the account, our liaison at the Department of the Army was a Mr. Crisler, a 50ish gentleman who didn't do the least bit for me.

But in March 1999, I learned that Crisler had retired and was to be replaced by an ex-paratrooper named Darrell Poston. The moment I laid eyes on Darrell Poston, in his office at the Pentagon, I knew immediately that I was going to have him for a lover.

For one thing, he is the most gorgeous black man I've ever seen, with penetrating eyes, perfect white teeth, smooth-shaved head and a body that looks like it was chiseled out of black marble. He's not terribly big, about 5-foot-10, but he covers that frame with 200 pounds of rock-solid muscle.

For another thing, I have secretly fantasized about sex with a black man since I was a teenager. Until Louis Bertelli, the closest I ever came to stepping out on Howard was during my senior year of high school, before we got married.

That year, a boy named Eddie Gordon transferred to our school, and he was hot stuff. He was a football player, a split end, with fast moves, soulful good looks and he was rumored to be hung like a horse.

We sat next to each other in English class, and he made my pussy weep every time he looked at me. It didn't take him long to start coming on to me, and I was sorely tempted.

Howard was off at college during the week and on some weekends, and by then I had developed an itch in my pussy that needed constant attention. I would lie in my bed at night, stroke my pussy imagining Eddie's big black cock and I would always come like a rocket.

Who knows what would have happened if I had accepted Eddie's come-on, and let him fuck me? But I chickened out, then Eddie couldn't make the grades that semester and moved to another school.

It's probably just as well. Even for our liberal suburban community in Connecticut, where we grew up, the idea of blacks fucking blondes was frowned upon.

I think if he'd stayed, though, I probably wouldn't have been able to resist him indefinitely, given what I now know about my inability to say no to real temptation.

Lastly, and most importantly, Darrell Poston has one of the most commanding personalities I've ever encountered. He spent 20 years on active duty before retiring from the Army and taking over his civilian position.

In the course of his military career, he rose to the rank of captain, and he sure assumed command of me right from the start. I am not exaggerating when I say that when I'm in D.C., Darrell Poston can get me to do anything he wants, any time he wants, anywhere he wants.

I was speechless when I first walked into his office and got a good look at him, and his first words to me were telling.

"Well, Crisler said you were a hot number, but I think he understated the case," Darrell said in an authoritative baritone voice. "The things I could do..."

I just stared at him for what seemed like minutes, then I kind of shook myself out of my reverie and we exchanged introductions.

Unlike Louis, who took some time to seduce me, Darrell didn't waste any time. The third meeting we had, he ended up in my hotel room that evening fucking my brains out.

I somehow managed to keep from ripping his clothes off in his office that first time we met, simply because I just couldn't see myself letting a man I'd just met fuck me.

The only reason we didn't do it the second time was because we didn't have any time alone together, except for lunch, which wasn't enough time. We had to meet with the committee, then I had to fly back to New York that night. But the third time, in May, was the charm. Our lunch date the time before had made it clear to both of us that he could have me any time he wanted.

He had spent the whole time staring at my rock-hard nipples, which were clearly visible through my bra and my blouse, and I couldn't help gazing at the healthy bulge in his slacks whenever he stood up.

So, we were sitting in his office that May afternoon, and we were going over a sticking point in the business we were discussing. Suddenly, he put down the document and fixed me with a steady, even stare.

I had been having a hard enough time controlling my arousal as it was, but when he looked at me like that, my pussy just melted.

"You know what would make this go a lot smoother?" he asked as a sly grin creased his face.

"What's that?" I answered.

"A blowjob," he replied.

"Hmmmm," I said, as I stood up and walked over to where he was sitting.

I leaned over, so that he could look down the front of my dress, at my tits, which were covered only by a fairly thin bra. I laid my hand right on his cloth-covered cock, and felt it leap at my touch.

"That's probably not a very good idea," I whispered in a voice thick with lust. "But if you come to Room 1517 at the Airport Hilton around 8 o'clock, I'll do anything you want."

It's a good thing I was serious, because I quickly learned that Darrell is a man with a voracious and varied appetite for sex of every sort.

Like I did with Louis, I took a relaxing bath and had a light dinner from room service, a salad and a small bottle of wine. I did my makeup, dabbed some perfume in strategic places, brushed my hair and slipped on a clingy satin robe. It wasn't see-through, but the way it molded to my body left no doubt about what I didn't have on underneath it.

A couple of minutes before 8 o'clock, I happened to look down at my hand, at my wedding ring. A momentary pang of guilt hit me then, but I did the only thing a dedicated adulteress can do in a situation like that. I slipped the ring off my finger and stashed it away in my purse.

From that night on, that would always be the last thing I'd do before I met one of my lovers. It was symbolic for me, in that during those moments, I didn't consider myself married. I know it's hollow comfort, but that was one way I coped with what I was doing.

Promptly at 8 o'clock, Darrell knocked on the door and I let him in for what would be a life-changing night of lust.

"I like a man who's on time for a hot date," I said, with more jocularity than I really felt.

"Man would be a fool to keep a lady like you waiting," Darrell said. "But then you're not really a lady, are you."

"More like a tramp," I said as our bodies merged and we kissed, hot and hard.

And I will be candid about that. I've acted like a tramp these past seven years, and while I'd rather some things hadn't happened the way they did, overall, I can't say that I regret most of what I've done.

Darrell's iron body seemed to envelop me as he kissed me and ran his long tongue in my mouth. I gasped in pleasure as he kissed and licked down my jawline, down my neck and up to my ears, as his hands wandered over my body.

Then he pulled back slightly, and swiftly undid my robe, letting it fall to the floor in a black satin puddle. He ran his hands all over my skin as my arousal soared. The only part of me he didn't touch was the place where I wanted him most - right between my legs.

He slid his hands over my tits, down my back to my butt, over my thighs and around to my arms, then back around to squeeze and suck my nipples.

"You look like you stay in pretty good shape," he said in a low voice. "That's a good thing, because I'm gonna wear you out."

A shiver rippled through my body as he said that, and I pulled his tight T-shirt off, cast it aside and reciprocated, running my soft hands all over his rippled chest, circling his hard nipples with my nails.

Darrell pulled off his shoes, then cupped the crotch of his snug slacks with his hands as if to say, "come and get it," and I went and got it.

I dropped to my knees, unbuckled his belt, undid his pants, pulled them down and was confronted with the most perfect slab of male meat in the universe. It's about 9 inches long (I know because I've measured it), and just the right girth, which is to say it's a little bit fatter than Louis.

I was almost tempted to imitate Lily von Stuppe in "Blazing Saddles" (it's twue! it's twue!), but I resisted. Somehow, I didn't think Darrell would be amused.

And besides, all I wanted to do right then was to slide that glorious cock into my mouth, to worship it in the manner that it deserved.

As Darrell stepped out of his slacks and stood there naked, I grabbed his dong with both hands and began to lick it up and down, covering it with my saliva, before slipping the fat head past my lips.

I hummed in mounting passion as I fed his black snake into my mouth. I took a little over half of it into my throat before I started gagging on it, so I pulled back and began to suck that dick like it was my last meal.

I sucked and slobbered all over his cock, pulled it out of my mouth, sawed it between my lips and over my tongue, then stuffed it back into my mouth.

I could feel my pussy flowing like a river, that's how turned on I was. I reached down with one hand and found my clit was absolutely swollen. I lifted myself up slightly, spread my legs and attacked my cunt with my hand in rhythm to my mouth on Darrell's cock.

I felt his big hands around the back of my head, working me on his cock, driving a little more into my throat with each push.

Suddenly, I felt a long-overdue orgasm rush through me like a flooded river. I shook and shimmied on my juice-covered hand, and I had to rip his cock from my mouth and gasp out loudly at the intensity of my climax.

"You've never had a black man before, have you," Darrell said as he pulled me up on my shaky legs when I had finished.

"No," I said weakly. "No, but I've wanted to for an awful long time. And I wanted to fuck you the moment I laid eyes on you. Please, Darrell, fuck me. Show me what a man like you can do. Fuck me and make me sing. I meant what I said. I'll do anything you want, just fuck me." He just chuckled as he maneuvered me onto the bed, but instead of getting me on my back, he insisted that I get on my hands and knees. That was the first hint as to what he wanted.

My ass was waving in the air as he knelt behind me, then I felt his hot breath on my pussy and I groaned in ecstasy. He licked and kissed his way up and down my sloppy slit, then stabbed at my clit with his tongue.

Then he slashed his way back up my cunt, but instead of stopping and working his way back down, he kept right on going, spreading my butt cheeks and spearing my asshole, then licking all around the pink starfish.

I turned around sharply and just stared at Darrell, and he looked up at me with a bemused expression, then returned to his work, alternating kisses and licks on my super-heated cunt and my now-wet asshole.

I had another inkling right then of what he was all about, and I wasn't sure of my feelings. It wasn't that I was against anal sex. I've always known it was a terrific erogenous zone, and I had frequently penetrated my puckered hole lightly with a finger whenever I masturbated.

But Howard had never fucked me there. We'd tried it a few times early in our marriage, and he just couldn't seem to get his dick in the hole. He'd always slip into my pussy, and once he was there, he was reluctant to pull out and keep trying.

And, truthfully, I had the thought that a finger was one thing, but a cock was something else entirely. I was worried about it hurting me, and that was with Howard's more modest size. I was real apprehensive at the thought of Darrell's huge cock fucking my ass.

But I didn't have to worry about that right then. After getting a good taste of my thoroughly drenched crotch, he got up on his knees and aimed the head of his cock to my burning fuckhole.

I gasped and squealed as he pushed the head of his cock into my pussy and thrust his whole length into me in one glorious rush.

I howled as I felt myself being filled deeper and fuller with man meat than I'd ever been filled before in my life. In seconds, he was working his big black cock in my twitching cunt at a brisk, but measured pace.

I worked my hips back to get as much of his pleasure pole as I could, and as I did, I felt another screaming orgasm come to a head. My head was lolling as the climax washed through me, and that was when he really started to work on my ass.

He took two fingers and got them liberally coated with the creamy froth of our coupling and worked them around the outside of my anus. Again, I turned my head around and looked at him with some concern.

"You're... not thinking... of fucking... me there... are you?" I panted as he continued to fuck me with steady strokes.

"Never had a cock back there before, huh?" he asked in a steady voice that belied the intensity of the way his cock was working in my cunt. "Whatsa matter? Hubby can't get it in there? Well, let me tell you. I'll take it nice and slow, but it's going in the back door, and you're gonna love it."

With that, he eased those two fingers past my sphincter and slowly began to finger-fuck my ass in time to his steady strokes in my cunt.

Even more than Louis, Darrell has fantastic control, and he wasn't nearly ready to come that first night. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he wasn't going to finish until he'd gotten what he wanted.

I still wasn't sure if he'd be able to get his massive cock in my ass without hurting me, but I willed myself to relax.

Lo and behold, it didn't take any time before Darrell's fingers began to feel really good in my ass. I could feel sparks of lust from the feeling of his fingers working in my rectum at the same time that his cock was plunging deep in my cunt.

As another sharp orgasm began to pick up steam, I surrendered quite willfully to the feeling and begged Darrell to, "fuck my ass with your big black cock! Give me all you've got! I'm ready for it!"

He just snorted as he eased his cock from my dripping pussy. I felt so empty as he evacuated my cunt. Moving up slightly, he pressed the bulbous head of his cock to my anus and slowly pushed forward.