Unzipping his pants in the back seat, I stroked him as we kissed. I was horny, but this was for him. Taking him in my mouth, fluid flowed as I ran my tongue over him.
I love his taste and feel in my mouth.
I bobbed on him, mixing his fluid with my saliva. When he was slick, I took him in my hand and pumped him slowly.
He moaned, laying back his head.
“Does that feel good?” I asked sweetly.
“God, don’t stop…” His breathing beginning to labor.
Sucking him again, he began thrusting into my mouth as I closed my lips around him. He rose up to meet me as I bottomed out on him.
He was close.
“Stroke me,” he begged.
Taking him in hand, I pulled him until long silvery ropes spilled out. His breathing now raged, he exhaled sharply with each jetting flow. I held him until he finished.
It was hot. His orgasmic sounds light me on fire.
“Thank you.” He whispered, his breath slowing. He always thanks me.
We kissed and put ourselves back together.
I fixed my hair and straightened my shirt. I couldn’t go home looking like I’d just sucked a man, now could I?
How did we get there?
He sent me a text —
Do you have time to meet?
It was after nine, and I was tired. But I’m always tired and wanted to see him anyway. We hadn’t seen much of each other since the Covid lockdowns in mid-March, and it was still hard to meet.
Yes
I told my husband my friend wanted help with something for about an hour. He didn’t care. He never did.
It wasn’t unusual though. I help her with her home-based business when things get busy, or we meet for a drink and chat. More often than not though, when I’m with her, I’m really with him.
She’s my cover story. And my wingman. She was the one who first said I should find someone, and I’m not sure I could have done it without her.
If I had a date, she’ll call the day before to set up the story. She’d pick me up for the girl’s weekend…I’d spend with my lover. And drop me off again.
A great friend, I trust her with everything. She’s got my back because — she knows my hub. She wasn’t the only one to recommend I find a friend after meeting him.
It was a warm summer night, so I slipped on my flats and headed out in my t-shirt.
He was walking across the parking lot as I pulled up. He looked so good I wanted to jump him right there. I was starving for sex. I was so frigging horny I was aching.
I drove him to a quiet lane behind a strip mall and we moved to the back seat. We kissed and talked for a few minutes. He pushed a hand under my shirt, and I rubbed his cock through his jeans. And you already know the rest.
How we really got there
We had been planning a foursome with another couple for a few weeks, and our group chat was getting pretty hot. We were all feeling it, but there was little the two of us could do.
The other couple had each other, but he and I hadn’t seen each other in weeks. It was all a little too much for him that night, so he hit me up.
I take a long time to orgasm, and I usually need a toy, so there was no point in him working on me in the car.
And I love getting him off. I get this intense feeling of empowerment when I make him cum. It feels like —
“Touch down! Boo ya!”
It’s goofy, I know, but doing that for him? Mmmmm. I love him, but God, I LOVE his cock!
I was so turned on by time I got home I felt like I was going to explode. I wouldn’t sleep until I orgasmed, so I fingered myself to climax in our ensuite before bed. What he does to me, I can’t explain, but I can’t get enough.
No Bubble Room
As fun and easy to arrange as it was, we only see each other every three to four weeks since Covid Phase Two started. During the lockdown, it was even less. While I have a ready-made excuse to get out the door, he doesn’t.
It’s harder when your affair partner isn’t in your social bubble because you have no other connection to him. We met on Ashley Madison, two strangers looking for someone. And two years later, we’re still strangers to the rest of the world. Affairs outside your network are the easiest to conceal.
To get out he’ll make arrangements with a friend for dinner. Depending on the plan, he’ll see me, or we will piggyback off the dinner by meeting up afterward. None of his friends know what he’s up to, so he has to stay in touch to keep his cover story alive.
Working without a wingman as a solo cheater, he’s safer because there’s no one to turn you in. It’s also harder to coordinate though because he doesn’t have a ready made cover story to back him up. Add Covid and everything becomes ten times harder.
When he can make arrangements, we’ll book a day-rate hotel or Air BnB. It’s better than the car, of course, but we were only able to start booking again when Phase Two started.
Instead of having a story, he snuck out that night, which is his other option. He’s done it a couple of times, but there’s always a risk with that. His wife often goes to bed early, but it’s never a guarantee.
The other problem is he doesn’t have a reason to be out. Complicating things more, their adult daughter lives with them, and she’s usually up all night, so he can’t slip out when she’s around.
The only reason we could meet that night was she had slept over at a friend’s place, taking one set of eyes off him.
If anyone caught him out of the house, he’d be toast. There’s no plausible cover story to answer the question -
“Where were you?”
Their subdivision has very little around. The only place open later is a gas station, but he doesn’t smoke, so has no reason to go there.
Sex Starvation
Why go through the trouble?
Both of us come from dead bedrooms. Our sex lives shrivelled up and died on the vine a decade ago, so neither of us were getting anything during lockdown.
They aren’t interested in us, so if we don’t see each other, we’re involuntarily celibate. Not even a crumb falls off the plate for us, because there’s no plate. There’s nothing.
All we have is each other and the likeminded friends we’ve made along the way.
I already was forced into celibacy for nine years, and promised myself I’m never going without again. Then Covid came along and put me back on a starvation diet of infrequent meets behind strip malls and the odd hotel visit once a month or so.
And that’s how Covid killed my sex life.
What became of all that sexy chat? Find out here —
What’s a dead bedroom or piggybacking? Learn more here —
“Hotwife looking for a dom Bull, BBC preferred, for ONS/FWB NSA fun times. Can host. No MM, please, not looking for…medium.com
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Originally published on my blog at http://tjconwayauthor.com on September 17, 2020.
Teresa J. Conway © 2020