When Jan and I split it was my decision. I don’t think I can give you a reasonable explanation why either. I just felt things were stale I guess. It wasn’t her fault . We had just drifted and allowed minor issues to become major, even though they probably weren’t.
We met at work where she was a secretary and I was a manager, but she wasn’t my PA as she worked for several guys within the office. We did work closely though, and over a period of time we became close, flirted and eventually became lovers.
She was older than me by around ten years, I being in my early thirties. She was more outgoing than my conservative wife, exciting and vivacious and she was one of those women who enjoyed male company.
We exchanged innuendo and sexual compliments over a period of time, getting more and more explicit until we were in the office one day and the flirting had become much more pointed, overt even. She was standing at the photocopier with her back to me. I bent down behind her and kissed her ankle.
“What are you doing?" she said.
“Working my way up,” I said.
I ran my tongue up her calf, over the back of her knee and the back of her thigh. She didn’t move, she just watched me. As I reached the hem of her skirt I slid my hand beneath, stroking up her inner thigh until I ran it lightly over her knickers. She lived locally and I simply said I wanted to go to her place.
"Why?" she asked.
“Because I want to fuck you,” I said.
It was close enough to lunchtime not to matter and we were soon at hers. She amazed me. She was fit, confident, sexual and voracious. She was the first shaved woman I ever fucked and she was the only woman I ever fucked who ejaculated. She was red hot, crying out and bucking like a wildcat. I don’t believe it was me. She just liked sex, loved it actually.
We fucked daily thereafter, until that time when you have to make a decision that you know will hurt. I left my wife and we eventually married. Our life was good. We earned well, socialised frequently and holidayed a lot.
Our sex life was good too. We fucked a lot. I remember a field in Majorca, an alleyway at the rear of some local houses, the park and usual places in the car, I guess. We role played and kept it interesting but like all good things, you, well me actually, take things for granted and allow the daily important things to wane.
When you stop being a real partner, a full contributor, then resentments, albeit small ones, creep in and the normal romantic feelings become less than normal. Sex became less often and wasn’t really replaced with affection and love by either of us. We just drifted apart.
When we split it was at my behest and she struggled with being older, single, etc. and resented me big time. I didn’t stitch her up financially though and ensured that she could get a flat and live mortgage free. I think that went a long way towards us remaining good friends, even after an initial difficult period. She partied in style, and good luck to her. She had a couple of boyfriends and a few one night stands and seemed to be having a great time being single.
I had a girl by this time, which was sometimes difficult as we socialised in the same circles as Jan, meaning we bumped into each other fairly regularly. Jan and I were still in touch, she asking about my kids and me, hers. My girlfriend was unaware as she wasn’t a great fan of Jan’s and I had to be deceitful quite honestly, well, chose to be.
I still enjoyed Jan’s company and her sense of humour and we got along better than ever and one evening at a mutual friend’s party a couple of years after our split, we were talking about stuff generally and she had been drinking. She was quite funny and we were laughing together. My girlfriend saw us and had a complete paddy and stormed off.
We had been going through a difficult period and I had probably spent too long talking and laughing with Jan. Jan remarked that she should lighten up and what was I doing with her. The usual ex-type swipes at a new partner. I said things were fine, just a little tense.
She said she bet our sex life had stalled and I said it had a little. She told me she thought about fucking me a lot and, no strings attached, if I ever wanted a fuck I should ring her. I kind of laughed it off and we continued our chat until the evening ended.
I went home to a rather frosty situation. I tried to explain that we were only chatting but obviously it was more than that and she knew it. When I went to sleep that night my mind wandered to Jan. I thought about the times we had, how she felt to touch, how she sounded, how it felt to fuck her. My girlfriend rolled over, cuddled me and apologised for being a bit jealous.
We kissed and I ended up fucking her harder than ever, longer than ever. Afterwards she commented that we should row and disagree more often. I rather ashamedly knew that in my mind I’d fucked Jan that night. It was her I touched. Her I cunt licked. Her mouth I came in.
As time went by, the comment Jan had made at the party played on my mind. The idea excited and aroused me. Free, no commitment, fantastic sex. Ten minutes away. Waiting.
I began to fantasise, imagining myself with her more and more. I would lie in bed, touching myself, feeling myself instantly rise at the thought of her body, its feel, her scent, her appetite. Things with my girlfriend continued to be strained and obviously my mindset cannot have helped the situation. I never thought about fucking her. It was always Jan on my mind.
One evening I was in alone and I delved into the back of my wardrobe where I had a box of old photos. I knew what I was looking for and actually became aroused just at the thought. After a few minutes searching I found the package and sat down on the bed.
The first few were holiday pictures which I flicked through, reminiscing. Then I found them: eight or nine pictures taken a few years back. Jan was in a red balcony bra. Her 34C’s perfectly framed. She was lying on the bed, her hands tied to the bedstead with a neck tie. The red panties were tight on her taught arse cheeks. Laying back on the bed, flicking through the pictures I recalled the evening.
She had the red underwear set on and we had ended up messing around in the bedroom. I took some pictures of her as she undressed. She ended up tied to the bed and I removed her panties slowly before running my tongue between her cheeks.
She had bucked and told me to leave her arse alone, as usual, and I contented myself with fucking her sweet pussy from behind. As I recounted the events I stroked myself whilst looking at a picture of my cock buried inside her. I picked up my phone and I sent her a text.
“Found some pictures of you I thought I’d mislaid.”
She responded, instantly.
“Did you get my best side?”
“Well, if you mean your backside then I did.”
“My backside? What photos?”
“You in the red set tied to the bed.”
“Oh fuck, I forgot about those. Do I look good?”
“Maybe you could pop round so I can see them then?”
“That’s not a good idea.” I said, “I’m not in the mood to chat.”
“What are you in the mood for then?” she asked.
“To fuck. I’m in the mood to fuck. I don’t want to chat, no niceties, just to fuck.”
“How strange, me too. Why don’t you pop round right now and fuck me?”
I don’t really know how I drove the five miles to her flat. I was incredibly horny. I wanted her. I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to use her. I had absolutely no moralistic thoughts. I just wanted her. As I drove, my hard on, my arousal, my excitement astounded me. I was almost shaking in anticipation.
I arrived at her flat and could see her behind the blinds on the first floor. I walked to the door, unaware of anything except having her. I rang her bell and the buzzer sounded, allowing the catch to release and the door to open. I walked up to the first floor and her door opened. I pushed it aside and she stood there, breathing heavily. Her breasts were rising and falling beneath a white T.
I walked to her, took hold of the hair at the base of her neck and kissed her. I pushed her down until she was on her knees and she immediately unzipped me and released my cock. Her moistened tongue ran along my length and I closed my eyes as the warmth of her mouth enveloped me. Christ, she could suck cock.
She sucked and licked at me, noisily slurping at my blood engorged member. Fuck, I wanted her. I held her head. I forced myself deeper into her, filling her. I felt her face on my stomach as she took all of me. She gagged a little and gasped as I released her. Then she engulfed me again. I literally fucked her mouth.
The first words said between us were when she took a breath and cried, “Fuck me.”
I pulled her up and turned her around to face the wall. She placed her hands on the wall, stuck out her arse and spread her legs.
I stood back and said, “Lift your skirt and take down your knickers, you dirty little bitch.”
She did so. Not with any grace or enticement but with speed and it seemed, desperation. I stood behind her. Her cheeks, legs and arched back were crying out to be fucked. I rested my cock on her and asked her what she wanted.
“I want you to fuck me. I want your cock inside me,” she said
“Why you dirty little whore,” I said, “Put me inside you.”
She reached behind and found my cock and drew me toward her wet lips. She was pushing her butt back toward me, wanting me. I pushed her forward a little and then stood still, allowing her to push back onto my cock. My head just nudging against her.
“Go on, you little slut," I said, "Fuck me.”
She pushed herself onto me, my cock parting her wetness and entering her warm, sopping cunt. She began to move back and forth, using me perhaps as much as I was using her. We fucked like that, both of us moving, in her hallway. She was gasping loudly, saying how much she enjoyed my cock.
I too was saying how much I missed her. How much I missed her breasts, her mouth, her cunt. I fucked her hard. Ramming into her. Merciless. I wanted to fuck her through the wall.
I licked my thumb and ran it over her ass and instead of pulling away, like she used to, she went crazy. As my thumb slipped inside her butt she began to climax. I could feel her juices cascading onto me. She was crying for me to come inside her and with a final few thrusts I filled her.
I pumped into her as my thumb induced carnal grunts and repeated cries of “Yes, yes, yes.”
After a short time, we both recovered ourselves and sat on her sofa to talk.
“Where the fuck did that come from?” she asked.
I showed her the pictures and basically confessed that I’d just wanted to fuck her. I told her that I didn’t want to rekindle a relationship I said I didn’t want to hurt anybody and began to apologise. She laughed, heartily.
“You arse," she said, "I don’t want a relationship either, okay. I just want to fuck you sometimes. I like you, I like your cock and I like fucking you so I’m happy as I am, okay?”
“So where do we go from here?” I asked
“It’s simple,” she said, “Call me and fuck me whenever you want, but, I’m not a slut, okay?”
To be continued
Special thanks to Mrs Arsene Wenger
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/wife-lovers/my-exwife-part-one-the-beginning.aspx">My Ex-Wife, Part One (The Beginning)</a>