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Kat and Cyrano - Chapter 1

First of several chapters of my true story of extramarital love and lust found....and lost.
Chapter 1: Getting to Know All About Us

This is the true story of the best sex I ever had, more than four years ago, the hottest and sweetest love I ever had in my life….how we got to the most magical and wonderfully sexual day of my life – Nov. 10, 2008 –but it’s also the story of how almost a year after that, and after cementing our relationship in so many ways but most especially sexually, I totally messed it all up between us and we can never, will NEVER be in each other’s lives again.

Let me start of by introducing myself. My name is Kathy. I’m 5’7”, 52 years old, and pretty slender except for my belly stretched out by four pregnancies in my younger years. I inherited my black hair from my Native American grandmother. I wear it in a length down just below my shoulder blades, though my grandma (who I respect and honor) wore her hair down to her derriere. Long before she was ever born, grandma’s tribe had been forced off their ancestral plains homeland to Oklahoma, and then my grandma had to leave the Oklahoma dustbowl for the Pacific Coast in the 1930s. There, she met and married an Englishman, and except for my black hair on my head and, umm, elsewhere, I look pastier like grandpa than native like grandma.

My Native American grandma’s influence, her sexuality not stifled by Christian tradition, meant I rejected sterile sexual terms like penis and vagina. But my proper English grandpa’s influence meant I was never really comfortable with street slang sexual terms like cock, pussy, ass, fuck, and the word that especially makes my skin crawl, cunt. Together, the man I met on the bus and I would find our way to our own colorful sexual terminology, a happy middle ground between street slang and medical terminology. I think I miss our special sexual language almost as much as I miss HIM!

I grew up in a very small west-coast farming town, and I’ve moved around a number of times since, mostly on the west coast, but also including a couple of years living back on the now paved-over plains where my native ancestors lived freely, so long ago. But I’m back to being a left-coaster, and I think I will always be here. From my grandma I also inherited my interest in spirituality and my lack of reservations in my sexuality. My family’s lack of inhibitions led to my virginity being stolen from me very young and against my will. And my own open sexuality led me to all the wonderfulness I’m going to tell you about with HIM, but it was also the undoing of it all.

The man I am writing this true story about – let’s call him Eric – and I are both professional writers of a sort, although we had both wound up writing research reports more than creative writing. He is 5’10” and about 190 pounds, with soft brown hair on his head, punctuated by a bald spot—I would later learn he had the same soft brown hair on his chest and just above the part of him I quickly grew to hunger for most!

We first met on a crowded commute bus that we both took to work. It was late August, 2008, summer was ending, and the cool of autumn was fast upon us. It was usually standing room only on that bus, and we often met standing face to face in the aisle of the bus.

Neither of us was what Hollywood would consider classically sexy; in fact, we were both kind of plain looking. But Eric was a good man, a kind-hearted man, and something about him looked very sexy to me. I had had my sexually wild days in my past, but although I was married (and still am), I hadn’t had sex in a very long time before we met, and I hadn’t really made love in far longer than that. To me, making love is very different from mere sex; my three husbands and my various lovers and I had sex; the man I am telling you about and I made love.

At the time, I was 48 with two failed marriages behind me –with two adult kids apiece from each marriage – and with my third marriage on the rocks after more than a decade. My third husband, Frank, had lost his job a few years before, and he was constantly moody about it. But he refused to go look for another job, and he seemed to always blame all of his troubles on me, as now the sole bread-winner in the family. He even blamed me for things that happened to him years before we ever met. He would go out of his way to be cruel to me, which is why I had shut off all sex between us. We were living in separate bedrooms. I had my two pet cats for company, and he had his internet porn for company.

Eric was 53 and trapped in his own loveless, sexless marriage with Mary, with two adult kids of his own. He used to have a dog, but “Arthur” had passed away a few years before we met, and he had had a few pets since, but none as close to him as the dachshund he lost.

I guess Eric and I were both ready for love….and sex….with a new partner. I don’t think either of us was actively looking, but we found it in each other anyway. Together, in a remarkably short time, we found our way from having no sex, to having lots of sex, to making love… seeing it all crash and burn.

At first, Eric and I just talked every time we met on the bus, but the sexual chemistry between us was undeniable. Soon our talking evolved into hand-holding and then to having our arms around each during the whole commute. The very first time he kissed me, he knocked the wind right out of me. I don’t know if I what I felt at that moment could be called love yet, but his sweet kisses made me feel VERY warm and happy inside!

It wasn't long, maybe early to mid September, before we began to deliberately take an earlier bus just so we would have time to take walks together before we had to go our separate ways to our jobs.

We found a great little restaurant that served incredible home-made hot soup for breakfast, and between the soup and the growing heat of our lust for each other, we would both be nice and toasty warm by the time we made it through the autumn chill to our respective jobs. The waiter one time asked us how we keep our marriage so passionate; he could see it in our eyes. We both just smiled at him, and he winked, fully understanding our situation…yes, we both had wedding rings, but we weren’t married to each other. I felt so deliciously naughty and yet so sexy, just the three of us sharing our secret. And at the time, I had yet to sleep with Eric!

And we would meet over lunch and after work before the commute bus home. We could and often did call each other on our cell phones during the daytime, but not at night, for fear our spouses might overhear the hunger for each other in our voices. We would talk about anything and everything on the phone, but mostly about our growing hunger for each other.

On those few occasions when we could actually find seats, instead of standing room only on the bus, the whole ride from the suburbs into downtown would be spent seated beside him, my head on his shoulders, wrapped so lovingly and safely in his arms, where I already knew I belonged….and unfortunately where I haven’t been in four years and never will be again.

We eventually would call each other Kat (me) and Cyrano (him), pet names we gave each other, for reasons I shall explain later.

On our daily commute together, I could often see that being with me caused a beautiful thick ridge all the way up the front of his trousers. EVERY time! Sometimes the head was real close to peeking out above his waist line; I would gaze soulfully into his eyes, love and lust and passion and hungry desire and emotion all filling my soul. And then I would lock my eyes on the thick bulge under his zipper, absent-mindedly licking my lips, and I think he knew what my tongue wanted. I think – in fact, I know – his own tongue had similar ideas and plans for me.

Whenever I thought nobody would notice, I would fleetingly brush my hand against Eric’s bulge and become breathless when I felt all of his beautiful hard thickness throbbing powerfully against my fingers. Sometimes I would turn my back to him for a moment in the crowded aisle of the bus, and he would cup my breasts through my blouse, from behind me, just long enough to get me all nice and squishy in my panties, but not long enough for us to get caught. My nipples aren’t very wide, but they always get very long when they’re hard, and he seemed to really like how that felt against his hands. It had been a very long time since my nipples had been this long and hard, and even longer since I hadn’t a man to get this horny for. And now, with Eric, my nipples were achy hard and super long almost ALL the time, and especially when I was in his company.

I sometimes opted not to wear a bra, so he could further enjoy my hard nipples through my blouse. I would even unbutton a single button halfway down my blouse, so he could slip his finger in sideways, and quickly feel how long and achingly hard my nipples were for him.

Sometimes, just before I would leave the house for work in the morning, one or both of my cats - Pepper and Emily - would jump on me to be petted. I think maybe they sensed I had a new man in my life—luckily for me, my husband was totally clueless about it – and my cats were jealous enough to need to leave hairs on my coat to remind me that I would have their love waiting patiently for me when I would get home from enjoying Eric’s company.

But the jealousy of my cats also worked to my advantage; on the bus on my way to work every morning, Eric would gently, lovingly brush the cat hairs off my clothes with his long, slender fingers. And each time he did that, his touch on me would thrill me and have me walking on air all day, imaging what a gentle and tender lover he might be to me, if and when his long, slender fingers would be free to truly explore all of me.

I was thrilled to be dressing very sexy again—for years now, I had mostly dressed dowdy for work and dowdier to work around my garden at home. – and I was even more thrilled to HAVE a man to be dressing sexy for. And on the warmer of those autumn days we were sharing together, I would get great pleasure out of seductively opening my business suit jacket or letting him touch my leg in my deliberately ultra-short skirts that I began to wear again, wear for HIM, and watching the bulge grow in his trousers. And dreaming of the day I would get to enjoy that thick, beautiful bulge between both sets of my lips that hungered for him. When he would touch my thigh just below the hem of my short skirts, and I would admire the bulge I was causing in his trouser, I would feel a wonderful shudder of pure lust run through me from head to toe.

On autumn’s cooler days, when I couldn’t get away with short skirts without freezing half to death, I would wear really long skirts. But with a slit all the way up one side. So when we would sit side by side enjoying our morning soup at our favorite little downtown restaurant, the slit would open, and only he would see my entire leg all the way up to my hip. At 5’7”, I have been blessed with long legs, which several men over the years have told me are very sexy.

And as he would admire all that I was exposing to only his eyes, once more I would get to spend our whole breakfast daydreaming about that thick, tight trouser ridge of his…hungering for his ridge to become MINE! In a way, it was ALREADY mine, since he had told me that I was the only one who had made his ridge appear in several years. But there were SO many places in me, and so many ways, I wanted to enjoy his hardness.

Our face-to-face time together was always brief at first, because of our jobs and our need to get home punctually, so as not to arouse the suspicions of our respective spouses. But eventually we found our way to each other, as you will see.

By early September, we decided to set up private email accounts where we could communicate privately, the deliciously naughty thoughts we were having about each other, but couldn't say aloud in front of all of those commuters or over breakfast in a crowded restaurant. I’m glad now that we captured everything we said and did together in emails; it makes recounting our true story so much easier, because all of it was already written down. And yet harder, too, for still having so complete a reminder of what I once had with him, and what I threw away and will never have again.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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