My hubby Mark's brother, Paul, came over to borrow a tool for fixing a valve. Mark was in St. Louis. They always shared tools. Paul knew where to look when Mark wasn't around. When I answered the door, he disappeared downstairs and emerged with an L-shaped rod.

Feeling lonely, I offered him a beer. We took two to the living room and chatted for an hour. I wasn't the only lonely one. Paul's Sharon was in England.

I grabbed two more beers. When I turned around, He was there. Our eyes locked. Sudden desire. I stood on my toes and kissed him on the lips. Then I backed off, embarrassed. Both of us were shocked. But then, I threw myself into his arms. Remarkably, he allowed a deep and passionate kiss and held me tight. Slowly, his reaction grew against my belly. My vagina swelled inside my pelvis. His hands covered my braless tits, electrifying everything. Cool palms under my tee-shirt brushed over my aroused nipples. I grabbed the bulge in his jeans.

His hand touched my bare leg and slid up under my cotton skirt. I unzipped him and pulled out his cock, even bigger than Mark's. I rubbed as his hand found my wet panties and pulled them aside.

Suddenly afraid, I pushed his chest with both hands, "Oh, Paul, I shouldn't have started this."

"I know, Bonnie, I know."

I was backed against a counter. He didn't stop. His fingers played between my lips. We were breathing heavily. "Paul, Paul," I moaned.

Minutes later, I said, "I'm not a cheater. Not ever."

"Maybe we should stop," he said. For a moment, we paused, though we didn't move our hands.

"It's too good. I'm too lonely," I shuddered as two fingers slid into my vagina.

Suddenly fearful, I said, "Would it be OK ... you know … if we didn't go all the way?"

"That would be good," Paul said. "I never cheated either. We shouldn't start." Free to enjoy this, I rocked against his probing fingers.

" I haven't said 'Go all the way' since I was 16 and went there with a college boy," I giggled.

Paul pulled off my tee and dropped my panties. I removed his handyman shirt and tank top. He pressed me against the counter, kissed my neck and ears, and sucked my nipples. I slid his jeans and jockeys off. Paul knelt under my skirt. He wrapped his mouth around my wet bush, "Yum," he murmured, and used his lips and tongue to excite me.

"Let's go somewhere comfortable," I suggested. On his back on the sofa, he held his cock straight up. I kissed his leg, licked his thighs and nipples, gnawed the shaft sideways and mouthed his big balls. I stroked him and licked his helmet. Paul gasped when I wrapped my lips around it. I took him deep, short of deep throat. Bobbing and sucking gave him spasms. Tasty semen erupted in my mouth. I swallowed what hadn't leaked out.

Paul went soft. It was my turn, on the edge of the sofa with my legs apart. He kissed me on the eyes and neck and licked my nipples. He rubbed my mound, starting my orgasm again. His fingers slid between my labia and teased my stiffened clit. Three fingers fucked me deep, as he sucked my bushy mound. Pushing his face into my pussy, he drove his tongue into my vagina. God oh God, a screaming orgasm.

Spent, I said, "Sit next to me."

We hadn't broken our promise. "Oh, Paul. Thank you for understanding."

"You can really do a blow job, Bonnie girl."

We kissed and cuddled for a good fifteen minutes. Cuddling became more intense when he massaged my breasts. He got hard. I couldn't resist grabbing.

Before long, it was me on my back, Paul on top, kissing me, his hard cock against my belly. He worked his way down, sucking on my nipples, poking his tongue in my belly button, and again, tonguing between my lips. Another orgasm came and subsided.

"Kiss me, Paul, kiss me, kiss me."

Crawling back up, he kissed everywhere on my boobs. Our mouths locked. His hard cock pressed against my mound. God, I wanted more of it. I rubbed my pelvic bone up and back under it. Then I grabbed it and ran the tip up and down between my lips. I couldn't stop my desire for intercourse. I ran the wet tip around my butt rim. I ran it around my love opening.

"Careful, Bonnie," Paul warned.

But I wasn't careful. I slid down, forcing his cock in a couple inches.

"Bonnie!! What are you doing?!" he exclaimed.

I rocked my butt off the sofa, drawing him in and out a couple of inches each time.

"Really? Are you..."

"Oh, Paul, Fuck me. It's OK." I opened my knees wide and drove my heels into his butt.

He tried to hold back, but my legs held on. "We weren't ..."

He was in all the way.

"I don't care. Nobody will know. Please, Paul. PLEASE."

He lost control. His big cock plumbed my depths, widening and stroking my eager vagina. Orgasm after orgasm shook me 'til his erupting seed consummated our adultery,

As it ended, I knew the terrible thing we had done. "You're crying," Paul noticed. "I'm so sorry."

"No, no. It was my fault."

"I'm so sorry I hurt you. I should go."

"No. No. I can't be alone."

In the bedroom, we made love for two more hours. The next morning, between kisses at the front door, Paul said, "This was always my secret fantasy. But we can't keep doing this."

"Me too, forever, but you're right."

That was the only time. We never told Mark and Sharon. I never cheated again. But when Mark's away, and my hands start to wander, I'm not so lonely anymore.