I shower, scrubbing myself carefully, wanting to be fresh and clean for her. She will be here soon. My cock stiffens as I lovingly work the lather around my balls and shaft, down and under to the opening of my ass. I resist the urge to stroke, as my excitement would lead to me wasting some of the cum I have been saving for over a week. Tonight I want every drop to be hers. My midsection aches with desire and my heart is pounding in anticipation of the raw and unadulterated passion we are about to share.

They say that there is a 1,000-mile rule. Well, I'm only about 500 miles from my home and family, and she's not that much farther. We both travel to the same city and occasionally, our schedules align. We've been doing this for a few years now. Funny how at first, she didn't wear a ring. I only recently found out she was married – I guess she decided it was okay, perhaps even hot, to leave it on.

We used condoms at first, of course. There are hidden pictures on my phone of her body splattered with the aftermath of a furious eruption, but that was after ripping off the protective cover that kept our union from being fully intimate. After a few times, she had mentioned that it was too bad that we couldn't fuck without one, but I didn't take that as anything other than a lament. Then came the night that changed things. I'm not sure exactly how it happened, I just know that after the usual teasing, my cock was sliding into her. The sensation was incredible. It was the first other bare pussy I had fucked since my wedding night many years ago. I felt complete. Still, I pulled out and gave her the gift of my seed on her body rather than in it.

Tonight is going to be different. There had been no speaking of it. My intuition was strong. I had abstained for over a week, wanting to build up a huge reserve of my life-giving fluid. My head spinning in anticipation, I slowly towel myself dry and dress for her.

The knock comes on the door exactly at the appointed hour. The bottle of wine is open, but we don't ever get to it. I push her to the wall just inside the hotel room door and force my tongue into her mouth. Her whimpers confirm she is ready for me, and aching as badly as I. Quickly, oh so quickly, she is on her knees in front of me in the middle of the room, now dressed in only her bra and panties, I in my boxers. She devours my cock and looks up at me with hungry, loving, submissive eyes. I force myself down her throat, grab her head, pull out and slap my cock over her face. I call her names, order her to take me deeper, testing her commitment. The camera clicks away. I want to save this night.

She is on the bed now, on her back. Her bra snaps open from the front. I note a new tattoo on her left breast. She raises her hips and slides off her panties. I lose my boxers. I bring her to orgasm with my tongue, savoring her taste and marveling at the beauty of the pussy I will soon claim once again as mine. She has told me how her husband doesn't satisfy her, and how much she loves that she gets me rock hard. She needs to be fucked hard, very hard. To be slapped around, called a whore, a slut, a dirty cheating wife. She moans, screams, cries, begs. I plunge into her roughly. We fuck like animals. I flip over and command her to lick herself off me. She mounts me and grinds down until she loses control again. I abruptly order her onto all fours and pound her with every ounce of strength in my body. I am lost in the moment, leaving my home self behind in the distance as I indulge my true essence.

I order her onto her back. Her naughty body splayed out beneath me, she spreads herself as wide as she can. Open, vulnerable, completely at my mercy. This is what she needs. She has told me that many times – that I am the one who has taught her to be submissive, and how it has awakened something primal in her. I plunge in, fucking her even harder now. She is lost in orgasm, over and over. She senses my pace quickening and begins to beg. Please cum inside me. Please give me your cum. I want it so badly. I need it. Please. Please, Please.

I lean down to kiss her. At this moment, my lust turns to something like love. I look at the body underneath me: legs, belly, breasts, hard nipples, and think about her poor pathetic husband back home with the kids. I think about how she is willing to risk it all to be here with me and that sends me over the edge. She feels it coming and begins to cry and scream, wrapping her legs around my back and drawing me deeper inside her. I slam into her and begin to shoot jet after jet of cum deep into her open womb. My head spins, my vision blurs. I am only my midsection – every nerve in my being is concentrated there. The force of my orgasm is frightening and wonderful. I lose count of how many spasms as I empty myself completely into her.

As I come down, she locks her legs around me even tighter and begs me not to leave. We remain in that embrace for a small eternity, kissing, drinking in each others' gaze, panting, and gradually relaxing in the afterglow. It is wonderful, being inside her like this, our fluids mingling. Neither of us wants this moment to end.

Later I reflect. Her particular urgency for me to fill her. Her desire not to let me go. How she rocked back and raised her hips, begging gravity to drain my cum deeper into the recesses of her cavity. Does she want another child? A dirty little secret from her other life? I will never know of course, unless she becomes pregnant, and even then, there is uncertainty. Perhaps my imagination is overactive. Perhaps she simply wants me inside her as long as possible. The tangible manifestation of our passion slowly dripping out of her tonight and tomorrow.

One thing we both know. These moments are too far apart.