I had made up my mind to add some structure to my life. I would wake up at 5.30 every morning, do squats and thigh firming routines for half an hour. I would then spend another hour writing the book I have been chipping away at for the last year. I would also drink more water, less alcohol and start saving money. By the end of the first week, I had exercised only twice, hadn’t looked at my book once and ended up drunk in a bar with a married penis between my lips.
Over the past few months, my sex drive has been at an all-time low. With the exception of a few Skype sex sessions with the ex, I have been blissfully going about my business and empathising with my best friend’s wild sexual cravings. If anything, I missed someone to cuddle but nothing more. I had been feeling sexy and the kind of sexual vanity that is willing to wait for the right person.
I realised I was in a good place. I had just returned home and a few things were looking up. As time went on however, things started to slowly go out of focus. I found a house and spent more time fighting with the real estate to fix it. I had been accepted on a project but needed funding and a new job wasn’t quite as structured as I would have liked. Also, I became really broke really quickly. Before long I was procrastinating by spending my internet data on XXX.COM and literotica stories.
An odd job had put some money in my wallet and last night I went to the bar to meet a friend. He introduced me to his friend Mark and I said a quick hello, distracted by a plate of pork on the table. Mark’s wife had sent him out for groceries but he had decided to drop into the bar for one drink and a cigarette before returning home. My friend and I were entertained by his account of married life.
He was obviously very in love with his wife which made his frustrations all the more hilarious. What struck me most though was that he wasn’t even 35 but had been married for almost 15 years. He spoke with an authority and responsibility that appealed to my otherwise disorganised existence. He also had some of the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. I was sitting directly across from him and by the end of the first drink, I was intentionally prolonging our eye contact. Eventually he was paying me a lot more attention and the mutual attraction was enough validation. I really thought nothing of it.
Our friend had to leave for a few hours and that’s when things got heated. Mark and I were joined by a large group of his bar acquaintances and we both found them too loud and boring. We spent more time whispering to each other and soon enough our knees and shoulders were pressed together in a promise of what could be. It got cold outside, and we found a coach in the darkest corner of the bar.
God. He was sexy.
Apart from the DJ playing in the same room we were pretty secluded. I can’t remember what we talked about but I have the vaguest memory of giving him relationship advise. Choose your battles, appreciate your wife and a lot more Cosmo column clichés.
The combination of loud music, more beers and his breath on my face started to have its effect. I was so wet and decided to share this with him. Even at that point, I don’t think I intended for anything to happen but it felt so good to be there with him. Both of us struggling to control our bodies.
He started to describe his attraction to me. I might have reached out and rubbed his belly, or his hair or both. He leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t the best kiss I’d ever had and I broke it off after a few seconds. By this point we were really comfortable with each other. We held hands and listened to reggae. The second kiss was better. He pushed me down on the couch and was grinding on top of me.
The DJ was watching.
I pushed him off, unbuckled his belt and pushed my hand under his boxers. His dick was long, and even without seeing it in the half darkness of the room, beautiful. I wanted to see him naked. He undid his zip and pushed down his boxers.
We kissed some more.
“I don’t think I can fit all of this in my mouth.” I joked.
‘Do you want to try?”
I didn’t, but I did.
It tasted even better than it looked.
The DJ was watching.
Mark’s moaning was audible even over the loud music.
I took a mouthful of beer and pushed his dick between my lips.
That just about did it and when I moved my head, he let out a loud groan and came in my palm.
For the rest of the night we drunk, danced and made plans to meet again.
At the gym, for another reggae night, or at my place.
When he walked me out of the bar, I asked if he wanted to come back to my house.
It was 4:00 in the morning and he hadn’t been back home since his earlier grocery run.
“Why rush this? His hands were on my face. “I will see you soon.”
I knew he wouldn’t. Not like that anyway.
I’ve spent the day nursing a hungover and guilty conscience. I don’t know what I feel more horrible about. The fact that I am 30 years old and would rather be spending my evenings more constructively. The fact that I seduced a married man. The fact that even if he complains about her, he loves his wife. The fact that I have so many friends whose relationships have come apart because of infidelity.
I’m guilty because I did a horrible thing and even with that knowledge I still want to see him fully naked. I also don’t want to ever see him again.