Yes, I Let Him

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Yes, I Let Him Page 3

by Kamilla Murphy

“Yes…more than I can explain.”

  “Oh, Ted. I don’t want to give you any false hopes. You deserve more than to be a rebound or revenge lover, and that’s my regret for being here, nothing else.”

  “I really mean this; I don’t care about your motivation, or if you’re having problems in your marriage. I’m simply the luckiest man in the world to have you with me today…and this…”

  I shushed him with a finger at his lips, and said, “I’m pretty lucky myself, being here, with you, making love. You’re a good man and a good lover…”

  It was his turn to shush me. With his lips.

  I couldn’t get enough of him, and his magnificent body, all tanned, smooth and sinewy. We kissed and fondled but neither one of us had to work much to arouse the other. I rode him cowgirl while running my hands over his hard abs and chest. He reciprocated by cupping and caressing my swollen and sensitive breasts. I rode him fast.

  “Ohhhhhhhh Goddddddddddddddd!” I bellowed as my orgasm hit me good, shaking me to my core. He pulled me down to lie on him and that’s when I felt the last of his ejaculatory spasms in my vagina.

  “You’re the good lover, not me,” he muttered as we both relaxed in the afterglow of our climaxes. “I’ve never slept with anyone as hot as you are.”

  After a bit more kissing and fondling we were back in the water for another nice swim. “I could get used to this ‘Blue Lagoon’ existence,” I said.

  “This doesn’t have to be a one-night-stand, or maybe I should say one-day-sail,” he said without a trace of humor.

  “This day has been more to me than I can express. We’ll have to see how things go, Ted, but I’d love to do it again.”

  “That’s good enough for me.”

  Back on the boat we sun-dried before we put our suits on and set sail back to the marina. We didn’t talk much, though both of us expressed our pleasure with the marvelous day on the ocean, along with the splendor of our extracurricular activities.

  Once home, I refused to question my husband on where he’d been when he was supposed to be golfing. Whatever he’d been doing, I figured I did alright by myself, still basking in the glow of Ted’s fantastic body and what he did with it. I didn’t ask and Paul never said a word about where he’d really been. He had the nerve to ask me how my day went, and I almost blurted out the truth. Almost.

  Ted and I danced around each other all week at the office, afraid to let on what had happened but powerless to stop our emotions from showing. He invited me on another sailing excursion, and I quickly accepted. It didn’t matter whether Paul was golfing or not, I was going to be with Ted.

  Also during the week I wondered whether my husband could “see” the change that had come over me. I felt like a kid again, with all the raging hormones that went with it. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. When Paul left the house to golf, I noticed he forgot his favorite golfing shoes. I hoped he enjoyed her company, whoever she was. I would certainly enjoy my day.

  The harbor was calm but once we hit open water it grew rougher, and he had to work harder with the sails in the unpredictable wind. I should have said “we” since he did put me to work, though I don’t know how much I really helped. The way he looked at me said he didn’t care if I had any sailing skills at all, he wanted me, and that made me horny for him too. I loved looking at him in those unguarded moments when he was busy, and I could study his stunningly tanned and sinewy body. Oh yes, I was horny! When he selected a spot to anchor not very far from last time, I quickly disrobed and went to him.

  “Ohhhhhhh Carol,” he muttered when I slid his shorts down and put my mouth to work on his swelling cock. I gave him the best blow job I knew how to give, and when he came I swallowed everything he unloaded down my throat. “What about you?” he asked when we were done.

  “Don’t worry about me, big guy. Why don’t we relax, get some sun, maybe swim a bit, then we can take care of the unfinished business that’s my libido.”

  Like the first time, we packed some cheese and cold cuts. We made humongous sandwiches and teased each other about sex and appetites. We drank a lot of wine, so much so Ted cautioned me about swimming while buzzed. “The sharks will think you’re part of their cocktail hour,” he said.

  “There are sharks in these waters? Why didn’t you say anything last week?” I asked incredulously.

  Ted laughed and told me he was kidding. I punched him in the arm and then tackled him. Before I knew it we were in a sixty-nine position and he was giving me the most heavenly pussy licking imaginable. He was rushing me toward orgasm with his tongue tip and I was too breathless to orally reciprocate. When my first tremor struck, I flopped onto my back and urged him between my splayed legs. Our lovemaking was animalistic, and I was the bitch in heat. After I guided his stiff cock into me, he fucked me with vigor and I was screaming out in orgasm after orgasm before I knew what hit me.

  We ate and drank some more, and then we fucked again with him taking me from behind, a strong hand at each hip, as I leaned over the side railing watching fish and cumming hard. His skill and stamina were amazing, and he elicited multiple orgasms again from me before he came.

  As we sunned ourselves in post-coital lassitude, he tentatively brought up the topic of a long-term relationship between us. “Let’s not go too fast with this,” I said. “I like you, Ted, and I most certainly love these sailing trips and everything that goes with them…”

  “Like the sex,” he interrupted, smiling broadly.

  I had my hand on his hard abs, and slowly moved it downward. “Oh yes, the sex has been wonderful,” I crooned as my palm closed on his manhood. I felt it swell to my touch. “You are insatiable, aren’t you?”

  “Only with you,” he moaned.

  I absently stroked him back to a firm erection while ironically thinking of confronting my husband on his extramarital dalliances. Did I want to know the truth? How does Paul’s apparent cheating give me license to do the same with Ted? I couldn’t give Ted an answer to his question on our future without first settling things with Paul.

  I didn’t say a thing as I straddled him and lowered myself onto his erect shaft. Riding him cowgirl was an experience with the boat rocking on the swells the way it did. He clutched my breasts as I began to rhythmically slam my pelvis up and down, taking his length deep into my hungry vagina, a hunger that he’d awakened. My orgasm wasn’t nearly as explosive as the last time, but when he cried out that he was going to cum and I felt the throbbing impulse of his jetting cock, several wavelets of joy pulsed through me. His third orgasm today and he was still spewing quite a volume. When I dismounted him, that volume was dribbling down my thigh in rivulets, and he saw it and smiled.

  “Oh yeah…baby makers for sure. Aren’t you glad I’m on birth control?” I said, smiling.

  He was speechless.

  Now more or less sober, we finally went for a swim, mostly to clean the remnants of lovemaking from our sated bodies. “Will we do this again?” he asked me as we climbed back aboard.

  Just looking at him, my mind screamed Yes! but I didn’t vocalize that, instead saying “We’ll see, Ted. We’ll see,” which was my stock answer every time I didn’t wish to face reality. My reality was my marriage and Paul’s infidelities—and now mine. We’ll see.

  As we sailed back home, I thought of how much I was enjoying sailing and Ted’s company, as much as the great sex. “I’ll see you Monday,” he said after we kissed at the dock. I wasn’t in love with my job, but now Mondays couldn’t come fast enough.

  We had the bug. As soon as we saw each other in the office we wanted each other. Midmorning, Ted whispered in my ear, “Jake’s old office…no windows.”

  That’s where we spent our lunch break. We made sure no one saw us. We slipped into the unused office, locked the door, and went at each other like we had on his boat; like wild, hungry animals. I dusted off the desk top, dropped my panties and hiked up my skirt, and then sat on the desk. His slacks down and his cock up, he slid into me with ease, I
was that lubricated and ready. Our hips locked into a fast rhythm as we bucked against each other.

  “Ohhhhh, Tedddddddd, fuck me harderrrrrrrrrrr,” I sang, though I didn’t know how much harder he could than he already was.

  “Ohhhhh, Carolllllllll, you’re soooooooooo hot, soooooooooooo gooooooood,” he groaned, pumping furiously.

  I hoped no one heard us.

  We knew enough to temper our noise when we came. Cleaning ourselves up as much as we could in the dusty office and straightening out our clothes, we remained silent. I couldn’t speak for Ted, but I needed what we just did, and could get used to it very quickly. We snuck out, and again, I didn’t think anyone saw us. Twice more during the week he draped me over Jake’s old desk and fucked me from behind. I had to put my fist at my mouth to stifle the orgasmic screams lest we be found out.

  Come Saturday, my husband didn’t play golf because of poor weather, so I made an excuse and went to Ted’s where we fucked all day. His boat wasn’t even on the menu. We did it first on his sofa, then in the shower, then after I let the poor slob recuperate a while, we did it on his bed. I didn’t remember ever having so much sex in a week’s time in my entire life. When you are as sore from sex as I was, it definitely was a ‘good’ sore!

  Lying in bed with a totally spent Ted, he began talking about us in the long-term. I stopped him, saying “I’m loving this, but I’m married and anything I decide to do is way more complicated than I can comprehend at the moment.”

  He said he understood, but his hang-dog expression said otherwise. I’d have to be careful.

  The next week was more of the same, slinking away a couple of times to the unused office and banging away our lunch hour. On Saturday, we spent another glorious day out on the ocean, though we only made love once. Once was enough though, since as usual, my orgasm was heightened by it being brought on by Ted and his amazing, athletic body.

  Amidst thoughts of a possible life together with my new lover, I was confronted by my husband when I got home, and with his mother visiting, no less.

  “Honey, we have to talk,” he said, ominously. Was his mother ill? Was that what this would be about?

  “Should I be sitting down?” I kiddingly said before sitting on the sofa. He remained standing.

  He began solemnly, “Look, I know you’ve been sleeping with another man, and it didn’t take our sudden lack of sex to tell me so. What I want to know is why?”

  I was flabbergasted. “You? A man who’s been cheating on me all along? You have the audacity to say that I’m having an affair?”

  “Well, that wasn’t quite a denial, though I’m not surprised you would try to divert attention back on me. I’ve never cheated on you. Ever. I couldn’t, but evidently you could. Easily.”

  “What about the Saturdays you were supposed to be playing golf? Which floozy have you been fucking? Janet from your office?”

  “I love it. You actually were checking up on me? Okay, I did lie. I wasn’t golfing. I’ve spent three of the past few Saturdays setting up your surprise birthday party and shopping for a special present. And this is what I get, you fucking someone behind my back.”

  “Birthday?...Party?...Shopping?” I muttered like the village idiot. “But the earrings…”

  “What earrings? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t bullshit me. I found them in your carry-on bag after your last trip. Whose are they?”

  He had a puzzled look on his face as my mother-in-law entered the room. Had she been eavesdropping the whole time? “Did I hear something about earrings? Did you find mine?”

  “You lost some?”

  She said yes, and described the earrings exactly. “Where were they?”

  “In Paul’s carry-on,” I answered, “I’ll go get them.” As I went into the bedroom to retrieve the earrings, I pondered all that had been said. Paul wasn’t cheating after all? Oh God, what have I done?

  “Wow, I thought they were gone forever.” She turned to Paul and said, “I forgot that I used your bag. Your father gave me these for our anniversary years ago. Oh dear, I thought I lost one more memory of him.”

  Despite his anger, Paul was discreet enough not to continue the discussion until his mother left the room. “You still haven’t answered me. Have you been having an affair?”

  I denied everything, but I wasn’t a good liar and I knew he didn’t believe me one bit. He kept pressing me for the identity of my lover. I kept denying everything, until I expected to hear a cock crow somewhere, like with Peter in the Bible. Did all this with Ted happen because of unfounded suspicions of my husband or was it more? Paul kept asking how I could have suspected him of infidelity. He reiterated his love for me and how he’d always been faithful. I felt like a selfish idiot. But then I thought of Ted’s lean and sinewy body climbing between my parted thighs, and I knew going back to the way things had been in my marriage would be quite difficult.

  Maybe one more sailing excursion. Just one...

  Kamilla Murphy is the author of novels “Watching January” and “The Missionary Position” as well as novellas “Sailing to Ecstasy,” “The Magistrate’s Witches” and “The Survivalist” along with other works of erotic fiction. She’s a professional, wife and mother of two great teens living in northeastern Massachusetts, hard at work on a new novel.

  You can e-mail her at [email protected] to let her know what you think.

  (Pay attention now! There’s no “y”!)

  Please visit Amazon’s Kamilla page to find all her books for the Kindle

 

 

 


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