Monday, June 4, 2007


I think I'm in love. Seriously. HOnestly. WIth a Goddamned married fuckin woman, who I've never so much as even kissed.


Saturday, June 2, 2007

The first wife....

Things aren't really happening on the getting laid front right now. With the situation with B kinda evolving. I will say that Friday we had a GREAT day together at work. She had some things (not related to our relationship) she needed to talk to someone about, so I listened for awhile. She's a really good person. Hell, a GREAT person. And the things that bother her, most other people wouldn't give a shit about, but she cares about things at a very deep level. We had a project we had to work on together Friday, so we worked side by side, in close quarters most of the day. Lot's of casually brushing up against one another. THe accidental brushing of my hand against the part of her upper leg left uncovered by her short skirt, for just a second. Her sandaled foot brshing up against mine as she scooted her chair in closer to get a better view of our project on screen. And the way she smelled. God damn....and that moment she looked at me with wet eyes (which is becoming more frquently....though maybe it's more an allergy thing than it is a "I love you want to fuck your brains out thing...sigh. Regardless, she was the object of my desire for the evening's jacking off. I masturbate a LOT. Sometimes to relax, sometimes to work on stamina and my ability to delay spooging. Practice makes perfect.

BUt now how about the story of the first time I got involved with a married woman.

So this was some time ago. I was working at an ad agency in Atlanta. I had been there about 3 years. And this new girl started. She was cute. Married, but cute. It had been probably about 6 months since "THE ONE I LOVED MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF" had spurned my declaration of eternal love and desire to build a life with her, because, well she was fucking that BASTARD FUCK STEVE on the sly. LEt's call her S. I hadn't really talked to her much the first three weeks she worked there.

Anyway, I was back in the art storage tiny room/closet (that's where they kept all the old clipart from before they started gettting things on disc.). I spent a lot of time back there, just to kinda hide out and get away from everyone else.

Anyway, I'm goofing off, and she comes in. SHe says "Hi' or someting and I respond likewise. She (and I'm paraphrasing to the best of my failing memory) says "I'm looking for some art" and starts to gesture, having forgotten exactly what it was she needed, "You know...a thing...oh, shit, you know...a little thing." To which, me being me and temporarily forgetting that I barely know this girl, and that she's married, say "Well, I've got a little thing." She looks at me and smiles. Im a little red-faced with embarassment (this was before I became a terrible person) and says, without a SECONDS hesitation "No, I said little..not TINY". Burned!!! And all I could think to myself was, "Damn, if she wasn't married, I'd like to get to know her."

So, that was kind of an ice breaker, and we gradually became buddies. We'd kid around a bunch, flirt, hang out when the coast was clear, in the art storage tiny room/closet, just mainly bullshitting, not ANYTHING physical, romantic or sexual at all. We were very good friends who made each other laugh.

So one day, we were goofing of in there, and began shoving one another playfully, hip bumping each other. And I start poking at her with my finger. She gets all goofy and ticklesh. So I poke her and poke her all over (cet for very delibarately staying away from her most womanly and married of parts), and I get her right inthe back of the neck, the nape I guess.

Her shoulders dart up and she shudders. She's like "eehhh...not there." I say "Aahhhhh, ticklish eh?" "Nope" she says, "That's my spot".

"Your spot?" I say. "As in..."


"Really? So like one of your hot spot".

"Its THE spot" she says.

"Phhbbppppt" I say. "Bullshit"

"Fuck you" she says playfully "It is."

"Fuck your neck" I say. "It's not THE spot"

"If it barely gets touched, I get wet"

Intrigued, I smile, and very clearly reach for it, making sure she sees me, so she can stop me. It's just goofing off at this point. She brushes my hand away. "neh eh eh".

So I do it again. And she brushes my hand away. "Riiiiiight", I say.

"It is you, fucker." SHe laughs.

So one more time I reach for it, but she doesn't stop me. So I put a little light pressure on it, her shoulders shoot up again, and she closes her eyes and bites her bottom lip. Now, I'm a little stunned, because, at this point, I''ve only been with a couple different girls, and well, I was still all about the pussy, and those girls never directed me to the back of the neck, beyond just some kissing, which never had this effect.

So I ease up a little bit, she opens her eyes and we stare into one another. I lightly touch the spot again, and she smiles and arches her left eyebrow as I lightly stroke the spot in a circular motion. So I do this for awhile and notice her nipples are hard, and she sees me notice and says "told ya so". And I know I should stop, but I don't, and she doesn't stop me. I keep going, and she slips her hand down her pants and inside herself, and pulls it out and gives me her finger to taste. And I taste her wet. And I get hard. WE move in closer and I get behind her pulling her into me with the left hand has I stroke the spot with my right. And my hard cock presses into her as I gently kiss the spot. I stroke her right tit with my right hand, and caress her mound over the top of her pants as she starts to grind her ass against me. And she starts to whisper shit under her breath, and it's maybe been only a handful of minutes since we started. I'm kissing her neck, and she's slipped her hand down her pants and she's jacking herself off, and I'm grinding my hard cock against her ass, and squeezing her tits. And then she thrusts her upper body forward and starts convulsing, bent knees, steadies herelf on the shelf. And she comes. And I'm still hard as fuck. She composes herself as I'm kinda working my own erecetion, not sure if I should spooge and smell like cum the rest of the day, or should just leave it be and jack off after work. She gives me her hand again, and I taste her again. And we kind of look at each other. And she smiles. And I smile. In a minute, she backs out of the door. I stay in a few moments longer, as I didn't want to walk out, back to the cubicle with a raging boner.

Later that day, she pops by my desk and drops me a note that "told you so...fucker."

So that was the first encounter with a married woman. And I don't even remotely claim to be that good. Most of it was all her doing. Shit, a fuckin mosquito could have landed back there and gotten the same result. She was wired that way. And I've never before or after known a woman to come that fast. BUt for her, all the kidding, and shoving and pushing and poking, well, that was like foreplay for her, she later told me. SHe loved that kinda shit. Probably the MOST sexual woman I've ever met in my life. Once that barrier between she and I was broken, it took almost NOTHING to get her off. She'd tell me about dreams she'd have about me, where she had had an orgasm in her sleep and came. Now, I still don't know if that's even possible for a woman. Sure guys have wet dreams, but do women? The kind that make them really truly have an orgasm? Most likely she was just totally bullshitting me, trying to see if she could get me hard at work, just to entertain herself. BUt, fuck, I'll take fuck flattery in real life or in dreams.

She and I, well, we'd end up having a couple of good years of sneaking around, having fun, never getting caught. And I'd start down the road to being the bastard I am now. Any chance I can.

Getting married women off is fun, and exciting. And usually only possible when the marriage has lost most of it's meaning (at least the one's I've been involved with).

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

A curveball

So today was a good day at work. HUng out with B as much as possible during the day. I've been working out lately, trying to get into better shape. I'd like to drop 10-15 lbs, tone up some. B's in great shape. GREAT shape. Womanly shape. SLender and curvy and soft in an extrenely sexy way. So we were talking about working out.

She told me we should take yoga classes together at the local YMCA.

Yoga...I'm not sure ihow I feel about that. IT almost borders on the verge of me being "just one of the girl", which is a concept that is at odds with my penis. My penis has no "just one of the girls" feelings for her, unless my penis is a lesbian. So I'm a little confused on things. Yes, it's an excuse for us to hang out, which iI'll take any excuse I can to spend time with her. BUt I so don't want to be "one of the girls". Never heard of a woman asking a guy friend to go to yoga classes with her.

However, I wouldn't mind seeing her hit some downward dog poses whilst wearing some nice form fitting workout gear, getting a little bit of a sweat going, seeing just how flexible she is, which will be good to know later, hopefully. I want her sooooooo GD bad. And I don't want to be her "male girlfriend", unless her husband gives her the OK to have some hot lesbian sex. with me.

WEll gotta go. It's whack night and I've got a pud to pull.

Thursday, May 24, 2007


So, my friend came over the other night. I haven't seen her n a while, but she was in town to see her folks (her Dad hasn't been well). Her husband stayed home in Memphis and worked.

She's abit frazzled. So we had talked about getting together, just to screw, have some fun and what not, which is what I was planning on. BUt she really needed to me being me, I was there to listen. SHe's worried sick about her Dad. She's never, ever lost anyone close. Not her grandparents, not an aunt, uncle, cousin, sibling, parent. No one. It's amazing to think, especially at 32, that the family she rew up with is still all intact. Everyone else I know has at the very least lost a grandparent. But not E. So I just listened, for a couple of hours. SHe talked about how scared she was. SHe's worried about how she'll react when she has to hear someone say, "He's gone." And that's a painful phrase to have to hear. Take it from me first hand. She doesn't know how she'll be able to take care of her mom, living in Memphis. Not that her Mom needs taing care of, she's only in her mid 50s. BUt E worries about not being able to be there in a moments notice if something happens. Her older bro is kinda shiftless and not reliable.

It's just taht when you know someone you love is dying, you can't help but run scenarios. All the what-ifs that come along with the impending death of someone who's been there all of your life. She's a basket case.

And she had to make the trip alone, and spend those hours driving, only her own worries to occupy her on the trip up. He could have taken off work, if he'd really wanted to, she said. She asked him to, but he's one of those workaholic guys, always trying to get ahead, but letting the really important stuff fal aside. I hate him for it. I barely know him, but I hate that he didn't make the trip with her. To be not just her husband and do his damn job, but to be her friend that she knew beyond all doubt that she could count on to be there for her.

That, apparently, is me. Turns out she didn't run into me by coincidence. She made a call or two, knew where to find me and "bumped into me there". In most cases it's a little stalker-y, but she really just needed to see a friend.

So we came over, and she talked and I listened. And I told her what I knew about the kinda thing she's going through. And she cried. A lot. And I threw my arm around her, and pulled her in close, just hugging her. Holding her. And she pulled in closer, and let the weight of her body kinda fall into me. And I'd brush away the tears everynow and then, and stroke her hair. And she said "You know I love you." And I said, "Well, ya know I love you too" and I kissed her on the forehead. And she kissed me on the neck, and we kissed a little while, and I held her hand and gently carressed it. She said "I love you. Really."
And I know she does. And I love her too. The way that makes you be there for people, just to let them talk when they need to.

Then we went to bed. No sex. No foreplay. I ended up just wrapping my arms around her and letting her fall asleep. And the only thing I could think was how much I wished it was B in my arms instead. It'd be so much easier if she and her husband would just wake up one morning and decide they weren't a good match and cal it quits.

The thing about the way I am, I'm not proud of it. I know it's wrong. BUt when you're just screwin' sneaking around. The intrigue of it. The "what if we get caught danger" of it. The rush I get from making another man's wife come. That's the easy part.

It's this stuff. The being there for someone who needs me. The really caring about a woman, more than just needing to get laid. BUt really having a meaningful emotional relationship, even if it's just for one night. I mean, I know it meant the world to her that I was there for her. And that it wasnt' about fuckin', but that she knows I love and care for her enough to be there. That's the one thing in my life, about myself that I don't loathe. That I genuinely love and care for these women and want to see them happy.

Trust me I know I'm a bastard, a heal. And I know the things I do are so very very wrong and immoral. And I don't want anyone to think I'm justifying what I do. BUt fuckin' a married woman is easy. It's the loving them that's most troublesome. I know if E was single, I wouldn't have to wake up alone most mornings. I'd have someone I could be there for. And that she wouldn't have moments like this, when the one person who should be there for her isn't. I could never do that to my wife. I could never not be there for her when she's in pain, afraid, worried.

I fuckin hate this life sometimes. I'd love to not be the piece of shit I am, find a nice single girl, and start a decent life with her. NOt hate the person I am.

Now I'm depressed. Think I'll go jack off, hopefully it'll help me sleep.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

A Quickie Update

So, I'll tell you about the first time I "hooked up" with a married chick later. I was gonna tell that story tonight, but I ran into an old friend tonight and she's on her way over. I told her she'd be the star of tonight's blog, maybe tomorrow's, if she is exceptional. When she reads this, I FULLY expect HER TO CALL ME, whether she's at work or not...hint hint.

I'm eatin out tonight kids!!! Mmmmmm. Christ I love the taste of a married woman's wet. Wish me fuck!

Sunday, May 20, 2007

Intro to my current obsession

So, I have a thing for married women, apparently. I wish I didn't. I've tried to be over it. BUt I just can't get past it. BUt dig 'em, and more often than not the dig me back, mainly because I'm usually the complete opposite of the douchebags they married.

I'm not regularly nailing a wife right now. I've got one, that when she comes into town to see her family, we get together and fuck a couple of times. She's a good friend, hell, a GREAT friend, and like all the married women I sleep with, I adore her for so many different reasons. BUt she only makes it in a couple times a year, and well, that's a long time to go without. And I do miss her when she's not around. She makes me feel really good about myself (and I have some mental damage due to some fairly painful relationships that went bad before I embraced my love for married women).

Anyway, there's a friend at work with whom I've developed a really strong bond. When I started work, she was single, not dating. And we just kinda knew each other as co-workers. She met a jackass and started dating, and about that time, she and I had to start working together more closely. We became really good friends. We enjoy hanging out all day, we make each other laugh, we discuss the idiocy of the company with one another, and spend of lot of great time together on the clock. I think she's great. Let's call her B. And she is HANDS down the hottest woman I have ever known. She's the kinda girl next door hot that intimidates the shit outta me, cause really, I'm not very attractive at all. But she, good god she's gorgeous, and built in the most perfect of way. Great tits, great ass, a perfect hourglass figure. And she's got a great smile and beautiful eyes. And I want her.

A couple months into her relationship, maybe 10 months, she point blank asked her guy if they were going to get married, 'cause if not, she'd rather find someone who was thinking about that. Sure it's a little flighty. What do you really know about somone in 10 months? You know whether or not they're good in bed, but that's really about it. He, not really being very bright, popped the question 2 weeks later. She said yes. I was crushed, really, cause I had hoped that maybe she'd be someone I could really get to know about and care about, but they aways seem to go for the guy that's not me.

So I congratulated her, listened to all of her wedding planning, while secretly sporting wood for her on low-cut shirt days and thinking about her tight wet pussy whilst rubbin one out.

We got closer as friends, started talking on the phone more, going to lunch together more frequently during the week. She started opening up more about her love life, romantic life. Her hopes and dreams. HOw she at one time wanted to be a professional musician (like in an orchestra), but wound up in advertising sales.

So they got hitched. I went to the wedding. She was gorgeous. I've been to a number of weddings, and have never seen a more beautiful bride. And she was all huggy and grabby and hung out with me when she could at the reception. And I never wanted to be with a woman more. That new married smell I guess.

So they did the honeymoon. And a long week later, she was back to work. And for whatever reason, more than before, she touched me a lot as soon as she got back. Lot's of huggin, lot's of grabbing me by the arm and hand. Lots of playful bumping up against me. And lot's of looking at me with a big smile on her face. And zero mention of her husband. She rarely talks about him specifically. It's more or less like she's married, but she keeps any and all mentions of it free from our time together. Weird.

So what do I do? Do I go for it? Two years later, they're still hitched, and our friendship is stronger than ever. And her marriage, I'm pretty sure it's been rough lately. How do I know? What causes me to think it. SHe talks more about their disagreements. She comes into work looking tired, and a little sad, but by the end of our work day together, she's in a good mood and smiling BIG at me, and always stops by to bid me a "wonderful evening and I'll see you in the morning".

And then, two weeks ago. a couple of weird things happened within a week's time. So the first thing is, we sit pretty close to one another, a couple desks away, but within eyesight of one another. And so I'm slaving away, and I glance in her direction, and see her looking back. But not just looking back. She's staring at me, intensely. With that look on her face. It's not just a friendly glance, it's something deeper, something that's got her deep in thought. So I stare at her for a second, and shoot her a smile, to maybe lighten her mood. And nothing. She's still thinking...hard. So I do a kinda goofy wave and smile an even bigger dumber smile, and the absolute slightest grin crosses her lips, but her eyes, show she's still very deep in thought. So I turn and get back to work. A minute later, I shoot a glance her way, and she's STILL staring at me, deep in thought, except this time, she's sad, she looks like she could cry. And I smile at her, but now she doesn't even see me. She's looking right through me. And so I go on about my work, not really knowing how much longer she kept staring at me.

The next day, on a break, she comes up to my desk/work area, and she's puffy around the eyes and she's wet-eyed. And she sits down. She's on the verge of breaking down and crying, this much I know. so I say, "Hey..." and she says "No, don't" And I say "But...are you OK," And she drops her head and says "Please..don't. Tell me about that movie. That one you said I should go see. THe funny one." And she refuses to look at me, but I can see tears streaming down her cheek. And I start talking about the flick, Hot Fuzz, and I go pretty much through the whole movie. And it takes a while, but she stops crying, and starts smilling a little bit. Then she's able to look me in the eye as I talk. Then she'll only look me in the eye. She never glances away. I heard somewhere that if someone looks you in the eye for more than a minute without glancing away, you'll either be involved in a bitter fight with them, or you'll be making love. Think about it. A minute is a super long time to look at a person and not glance away, not even for a second. But we didn't. I talked to her, eye to eye, she said almost nothing for way more than a minute. And all I could think about was how much I loved her at that moment. So she stayed with me for a really long break, and when she left, she was smiling and laughing. And she never told me what the problem was and never mentioned it again.

Then, later that week, we were goofing off, chatting, and got to talking abut the Food Network, and how I think Rachel Ray was so much cuter before her talk show, and when she had more meat on her bones. Her cute factor has gone down considerably since the magazine and TV chat show. It's depressing to think about how cute and boneable she used to be, Anyway, on one of her shows, Rachael had gone to Jamacia and we were talking about were we'd each vacationed and how neither of us had been to Jamacia. And she looked me straight in the eye, and said, "______, We should just move to Jamacia." And then there was silence and a long deep gaze, and a sly smile. She tapped me on the knee, smiled and left.

And I for whatever reason, got hard. I want her. In all the right ways. Sure, I want to fuck her any and every way known to man. I want to fuck her at home, at work, at her house while her husband's away. I want to bend her over and ram it as far up her ass as possible, mainly cause she won't let her husband do it, so she tells me. But more than the other married women I fool around with, I want to fix this one dinner. THe next time she comes to me crying, I want to be able to pull her close and just be there for her, and not have to say a word for her to feel better. I think I'm maybe falling a bit in love with this one. In love in the way that I may want to break up her marriage. I'd like to break it up before we fuck (which, having been in this situation several times, I know it's coming). I wouldn't mind spending every day of the rest of my life with this one. She makes me happy in ways the others don't. And she makes me happy in pants.

So should I? Married women, I need your I reading the signals wrong?

Next time I'll tell you about the first wife I ever had a sexual encounter with. It was great, and I didn't even have to take my dick out of my pants. It's a good story.

Monday, May 14, 2007

I Have To Be Honest..

So, here's the deal.

I'm the guy that's every woman's god damnned best buddy. I'm funny as fuck, I'm the nicest guy ever. And every woman I know trusts me as a friend. They trust me enough to tell me too much. I get to hear about the good stuff, but I also have to hear about the bad stuff. How it's not going well. How their husbands all self-centered, knuckle draggers, who care more about their beers and their sports and their buddies. How they're unhappy at that moment. And how they feel alone more often than not.

And well, I'm perputually alone it seems. I can't get into any kind of serious stable relationship with single women. Hell, I'm not a good looking guy I'll admit, but I'm not the biggest troll to ever walk the earth. I'm wicked smart, well mannered, sensitive and well-read.

Single women just don't go for me though.

But my married female friends...mother fucker, do they love me.

Most all my adult life it's always been that way. And I was always a good guy, always passed up on certain opportunities that came my way. But then one day something changed. Something in the brain told me I needed a change in my life. And something in my cock agreed.

So now I fuck married women. Only married women. And I'll tell you all about it. From the first to the most recent, to the one I'm working on now.

And she's a stunner, and still a kinda a newlywed (just a little over two years {that seems new to me anyway}, and it's on the rocks, and she's my friend, and I love her like that). And she's miserable, but I desparately want her to be happy, to not feel alone, and to know how much I truly love her. And she'll never leave him.

And her husband's an ass and she could do better.

But she and I. We're gonna fuck. And she's gonna love it.

So stay tuned and I'll tell you everything, 'cept for names and addresses.