I am in my mid-60's now, but some memories are as vivid as if they happened yesterday. Back in the late 1970s, over half my lifetime ago, I had an experience that I will never forget. A few weeks ago, courtesy of modern miracles like Google and social media, I found myself sitting across a café table reminiscing about one such memory with the girl with whom I shared it... It was over forty years since I had set eyes on her but the memories were, it seemed, as vivid to her as they were to me.

Let her begin…

(Christine)

The train pulled out of Euston Station and began to weave its way out of the bustling city. We soon gathered speed as the diesel locomotive unleashed its mighty horse-power into the Buckinghamshire countryside.

I amused myself by surreptitiously looking around the carriage at different people’s expressions. Most either had their nose buried in a newspaper or were looking out of the window. I find it hilarious how people secretly stare but avoid eye contact at all cost.

It was then I noticed a nice-looking guy sitting across the aisle a few rows ahead of me. His seat was facing mine. He was in his late twenties, I guessed, maybe a year or so older than I was. I immediately noticed he was wearing a gold wedding ring, which looked heavy and expensive. He stood out because he was smartly dressed for a long-distance train journey on a Sunday; nicely pressed suit, crisp shirt, probably ironed by wifey, with a perfectly knotted tie. At that very moment, he looked up and momentarily made the dreaded eye contact with me - I gave a half smile as I nonchalantly looked away.

(David)

I’d settled in for the long journey and began to examine my fellow travellers in the carriage. Those closest to me were engrossed in books or newspapers. Slightly further along was a girl that caught my attention. She was gazing out of the window looking at the countryside rolling past, which gave me the opportunity to examine her at leisure. She was about my age… nice-looking, pretty, and seemed to have quite a curvaceous body as much as I could tell.

I was completing my assessment when she suddenly started to look around the carriage and our eyes met. I would have been happy to hold the gaze but she quickly looked away again, though she seemed to smile slightly as she did so. For the remainder of the two-hour journey, I hoped to make that eye contact again but with no success.

Before I knew it the train was pulling into Chester (for the benefit of non-UK readers, not too far from Liverpool), where the course that I was attending was to take place. In the bustle of the passengers leaving the train, the girl was lost from my sight and my thoughts. I made my way to the taxi rank and gave the driver the name of my hotel.

Once checked-in – I had a single room with an en-suite - and unpacked, I made my way down to the bar, where an informal rendezvous had been arranged. Each region of the company had sent two representatives, a total of twenty people. The course was to run for seven weeks, split into 3-3-1, with six-week breaks between.

The other representative from my area was engaged in a conversation about football with two others. I took a glass of sparkling wine and joined in the conversation. After a while, the organiser called on us to form a circle and introduce ourselves with a few words in an open forum. That was when I saw a familiar face…

(Christine)

The residential training course for which I had been selected, was to be held in an old coaching inn, complete with exposed beams and open log fires. The smell of a real log fire always gives me that feel-good factor.

The guest rooms were not overly large and not symmetrically square. After establishing myself in my twin-bedded room, I made my way down the creaky staircase to the welcome meeting. I was offered a complimentary glass of cheap sparkling wine and began to mingle.

The organiser stood in the middle of the floor and clinked a knife against his glass to attract everyone’s attention. He asked us to stand in a circle, and then, going around the room, say a few words to introduce ourselves. As I took up my position in the circle, I came face to face with him again… directly opposite me was the nice-looking guy from the train.

(David)

As she introduced herself – her name was Christine, or Chris, it seemed – I was able to examine her properly without needing to be subtle about it. She was, as I’d thought on the train, attractive. She was shortish, average figure (nice pair of breasts) cheerful and nice. She was married and seemed to be just an ordinary married girl from Northern England. I found myself wondering why she had been on a train from London. A few moments later her introduction was finished and the focus moved on to the next delegate. I let my eyes linger on her for a few moments and our eyes met again – I gave her a smile of recognition.

(Christine)

I began my introduction. “I’m Christine, an energy services advisor from our Leeds office.”

One thing I remembered from a public speaking training course was to maintain good eye contact. Connection with the audience is paramount. I kept my eyes constantly moving so as not to single out, or persecute an individual member of my audience. However, each time my gaze fell upon ‘Mr Nice Guy’, his eyes were firmly locked onto me. I also noticed how he scrutinised my left hand in an effort to ascertain my marital status.

As my introduction came to an end, he looked directly at me and smiled.

We stood face to face until it was his turn to introduce himself. His voice matched his smart dress sense - crisp, confident and word perfect with a typical BBC radio / TV accent. I was totally mesmerised by his voice and his overall persona. The only piece of information I managed to retain was his name, David.

Introductions over, the organisers dismissed us for the evening. David came over, extended his hand and warmly shook my hand.

“Hi Christine, I’m David. I recognised you from the train, pleased to meet you. Now, tell me why is a pretty young lady from Leeds on a train from London to Chester?”

I briefly explained I had been visiting my parents in London, before departing for the training course. He was easy to chat to and I asked him to call me Chris – it seemed less formal.

"Well, I hope we can get to know each other better over the coming weeks.”

With that, I made my way back upstairs to meet my new roommate.

(David)

The following morning the course began and after two days of team-building exercises we all ended up in the bar one night. I had played a prominent role in the exercises (perhaps too much so for some people there) and I think most people had noticed my personality as being a very lively and confident (or perhaps arrogant, I guess) one. I was sitting by Christine (can't remember if I contrived it or not) and had made a point of chatting to her.

We had all had to fill out comment sheets on each of the other delegates and then read them in privacy. I asked if she had read the one I had done on her...she hadn't and I suggested she did so there and then. I said this because (after all the boring professional stuff) I had written that I thought she was "sexy". She fetched my comments out, read them and smiled in a kind of "stop being forward but thanks anyway" way. The drinking around the table carried on.

(Christine)

On the third night, most of us gathered in the bar. I found myself sitting next to David. After a few drinks, we began to light-heartedly tease David for his more than over-enthusiastic roleplay technique. He seemed to take the teasing in good spirit.

David bought up the subject of the comment sheets that we all completed on the first day. He asked what I thought of his? I had to confess, I hadn’t read it. He looked disappointed, and asked me to read it there and then. 

His appraisal of my professionalism was more than generous, but when I came to the ‘General’ remarks section, I felt my face turn crimson as I read it to myself.

“Am I allowed to say I think you are sexy?”

I smiled coyly at him, unsure about quite what to say. “Well, I’m flattered. Thank you.”

(David)

I was wondering how (if at all) I could make any sort of move. There were twenty people there and her response would probably be negative anyway. What's more, if I overstepped the mark and she objected I could find myself in trouble. I decided on the following - if it went wrong I could probably pass it off as accidental. Sitting forward in my seat and leaning in towards the table I slipped my hand under the table and just brushed her hand.

I expected her to move away but to my astonishment, she didn't... Instead, she immediately reciprocated so our hands were pushed together. Stunned, I pushed on and started stroking her hand in a very evidently deliberate manner. Again she responded and we ended up grasping hands in a very hard - almost painful - way.

(Christine)

David seemed agitated as he fidgeted in his seat. Then it happened, I felt his hand touch mine, I knew he was flirting with me. This was no accidental touching of hands, this was a deliberate attempt to create a reaction and to gauge my interest in him. With my ‘guard’ temporarily down, I flirtatiously took hold of his hand under the table sending back a positive signal of approval.

(David)

This went on for what seemed like ages... Occasionally, we would stop and take a drink but we always resumed as before. This was all far more than I could have hoped for but how did I progress it? I should explain that Christine had been allocated a twin room in the hotel with one of the other girls so I could hardly turn up there.

I was now desperate to get her on her own so during one of the breaks from holding hands I nonchalantly put my room key on the table in front of us with the room number clearly visible. I couldn't dare nudge her or anything so I just hoped she had got the hint.

After a decent interlude, I feigned tiredness and said I was turning in. With my heart in my mouth, I went up to my room and went in. I left the door open and the light off... there was just a faint glow from the streetlights outside. Every few moments, I looked down over the rail to see if there was any sign of Christine.

After a gap of maybe ten minutes, I saw her very casually pick up her key from reception and slowly come up the stairs. I took it as a good sign that she was using the staircase that would bring her past my room at the top - there was another one that she could have taken instead. I was praying that no-one else would come up at the same time - that would blow everything apart. It seemed an age until she passed my room. I softly called, "Christine."

(Christine)

I’d memorised the number on his key fob and pondered my dilemma as I collected my room key from reception.

Our rooms were on the same floor level, but opposite ends of the building. Each end of the building was serviced by its own stairway. I’m not sure why I chose the stairway farthest from my own room, but before knew it, I had walked halfway up “David’s” stairway to the second floor. Trying my best to creep past his room, the tell-tale creaky floorboards gave me away as I heard a voice softly call out my name.

I nervously turned to acknowledge him. I stood for a moment observing, before smiling from ear to ear.

(David)

She had clearly been expecting it and turned around smiling in what looked like a "this has gone far enough" way. I said very quietly that I had wondered if I could have a goodnight kiss. She said (hovering at the door but not coming in) that she had to behave in a way that her husband would approve of, or something similar.

I said, "yes, but a little kiss won't hurt, will it?" I gently pulled her inside saying, "just let me shut the door in case anyone sees us." She didn't object and came in. I pushed the door and we fell into each other's arms.

There were no preliminaries - full frantic kissing from the start. I broke and breathlessly said, "will you stay up here for a while?" I didn’t know what she would say but she gave me a slight, complicit smile in the half-light and gave a subtle nod of approval. I can't remember the exact thing she said but she added something along the lines of "but don't get any ideas". Something to mean she wasn't going to let me fuck her.

(Christine)

His voice had taken on a noticeable low and husky tone, his pupils grew wider with expectation as he asked to kiss me.

“Are you suggesting I cheat on my husband?” I asked.

Taking hold of my arm he led me through the doorway into his room. Closing the door behind us we isolated ourselves from the outside world. Cupping my face under my hair he kissed me with a hot, fiery, passionate and demanding kiss. I went to pull away, but couldn’t... or rather, I didn’t. Despite my mental resolve I instantly found my lips and tongue eagerly reciprocating and my heart pounding.

(David)

The kissing resumed as I led her over towards, then onto, the bed. She did not hesitate and we were now lying, fully clothed, by each other, kissing urgently and hands mauling each other's bodies (but not the "forbidden" parts as yet). It suddenly occurred to me that my request to stay "a while" could be taken in so many ways and so I thought I'd qualify it… I said, "will you stay up here for an hour or two?"

And she immediately whispered, "Of course I will."

During our mauling each other I had put my leg between hers and she did not object... Indeed she pushed her crotch against my thigh. At this point, I thought that surely I could go a little further... My state of sexual excitement at this point was immense and she, despite her words, seemed to be in the same state. I started to feel her breast through her clothes.

No reaction, just more kissing. I "accidentally" let my thumb catch in the front opening of her blouse so that it was caressing bare flesh - no problem, more kissing and squirming, so I overtly undid the middle two or three buttons on her blouse and slid my hand into her bra - no objection. She had really lovely breasts - large but not over large, soft, smooth, with medium-sized, very responsive nipples.

I think by this time I was reckoning that she was going to let me fuck her in the end but I still had to take it slowly. A slap in the face and a flounce out of the room would not have been a good result at this stage. Even so, I thought it was time to stop acting quite so much like sixteen-year-olds groping, so I leant up on my left elbow and undid her blouse completely... Then, resuming kissing, started to feel behind her back for her bra catch... and I couldn't find it.

Then came one of the single most significant moments of what was to become an amazing three weeks... I said to Christine, "Does this open at the front?" I saw her grin in the street light glow and she nodded. No objections, just a little tease. So I reached to the front and unhooked her bra then pulled it to the sides to expose her (very lush) tits.

(Christine)

In a feeble attempt to defuse the intensity that had slowly been building, I tried to make light of the surreal situation.

“I don’t really think my husband…”

David stopped me mid-sentence. After tucking my hair behind my ear, he kissed me again. This time the kissing was more sensual, erotic and more urgent than before. His tongue probing my mouth, nibbling my bottom lip sending goose-bumps over my entire body. He began to nibble and kiss down my neck, my inhibitions and any shred of resistance I may have had evaporated. My nipples grew harder as the heady intoxicating anticipation took hold of me.

No more words were spoken, he led me over to the bed. He was full of want, desire and lust, his breathing becoming laboured as we lay down on the bed. David lay beside me, matching my body’s every curve and form.

I allowed the kissing and cuddling to continue until after he unbuttoned my blouse. As he fumbled to unhook my bra, my mind drifted, suddenly my husband Geoffrey’s image filled my head. Momentarily I was consumed with guilt. David sensed my sudden mood change.

Leaning on his elbow and rubbing his thigh against my sex, he rekindled my interest. Still struggling with my bra clasp, I grinned as I pointed him in the right direction.

Moments later I lay bare-breasted before him.

(David)

Over the next hour or two, each barrier went down slowly. Almost every time she gave me a sharp rebuke when I tried something on for the first time, but persistence paid off. I had undone and removed my shirt (no problem) but when I unzipped my trousers she initially tried to stop me.

On the second or third attempt, I did it and I persuaded her (just through placing her hand there) to massage me through my pants. She still let me simulate sex with her... groins mashing together through undergarments... but when I tried to break through these last barriers, she would stop me. It must have taken me half a dozen attempts before she allowed me to stroke her most intimate parts through her knickers... I'd get brushed aside but with less resistance each time when I slid a finger up her lips...but each time I did it with a little more insistence until she stopped complaining.

I could feel the wetness and heat coming from her and desperately wanted to feel the real thing, but again she rebuffed me each time... but less and less assertively, until she stopped altogether and for the first time I felt her velvet, wet, tight channel. I removed her trousers but she still wouldn't take her knickers off, but they were no longer performing much of a function. I took my trousers off and unprompted she massaged me through my pants.

This was a long, gradual build up, with constant kissing and stroking... hugely intense, but very (deliciously) slow.

This bit all becomes a bit blurred, but somehow I managed to go down the bed and suck her pussy through her pants. When her lusty side won over her prim side and she started to moan quietly I went for gold and slid her pants off her. Her puss was juicy, very wet, and tight. She was not shaved but had very little hair. It was gorgeous, and at this point, I felt I was going to explode. Unasked, she spread her legs wide open... her musky scent was strong and heavenly.

Without asking I took off my pants and at last we were naked together. Thinking I had succeeded, I went to roll on top of her, but she said softly but firmly, "No... I am not doing that," and pushed me off.

So for about fifteen minutes, she stroked my cock and I explored her pussy with my fingers and mouth. This bit was bizarre... she would let me soak my fingers in her puss and then very openly suck her juices off my fingers… and also lick her (by now) very open puss but every time I tried to move things forward she would say, "I am not going to be unfaithful." You can imagine my confusion.

(Christine)

David's erection was impressive. As he dry humped me I wondered how long he could last before blowing his load.

Rolling my highly sensitive nipples between his finger and thumb, pinching and licking my breasts felt outrageously good, he was obviously a connoisseur of breast worship. David applied just the right combination of suck, bite and tease to my nipples to send delicious pulses of delight to every nerve ending in my body.

Unable to cope with the combination of my own heightened level of sexual arousal and David's continuous loving touches to every part of my body, I monetarily I closed my eyes to make myself feel more relaxed.

The moment my eyes closed, I felt vulnerable and self-conscious, an involuntary mental image of my husband Geoffrey invaded and filled my mind. Perhaps it was my brain's way of filling in the gap that my eyes had shut out?

Racked with guilt, I reopened my eyes as my mood nose-dived.

Preoccupied with removing my pants, David hadn’t noticed my mood change, or he chose to ignore it. Relentlessly he continued moving towards his ultimate goal, the prize between my legs. I wasn’t prepared for the anguish and guilty torment in my head, perhaps I should have made it clear from the start, and taken the possibility of sex completely off the table.

Suddenly my preoccupation with guilt lifted as a pleasurable heat spread from my clitoris through my inner vagina and ultimately heated up my entire body. David’s tongue had reached its target.

(David)

I remember at one point asking her to suck my prick and she very sharply refused.... but then a few minutes later while sitting over me she pushed her long hair to one side and sucked me to the point of explosion. When she broke away she said, "I don't do that to the end... I don't think it would taste very nice," at which point she sat on my hips grasping my prick in both hands and rubbing it just along - but not into - her labia. The combination of her slit and hands at one point misled me into thinking I was actually inside her.

By now it was very, very late and Christine still had to sneak back into her shared room. She kissed me deeply, stroked my prick and whispered, "I really should be going." 

I said, "But I can't leave you in this state."

And she said very foxily, "and I can’t leave you in this state either."

By now I knew that going all the way was out of bounds, for then, anyway. But I did want some release for myself and to have at least taken this happily married young woman to orgasm. I said, "I'll do you first."

She laid back and I kissed, sucked and fingered her all over. She pointed my fingers just outside her entrance to an area just above her fanny. She was soaking and very smooth. After perhaps ten minutes she heaved her back into the air, shoved my fingers into her and orgasmed very strongly - but quietly.

Now it was my turn. Giving me a wicked grin she licked one of her hands, wiped the other over her labia and proceeded to wank me in a most astonishing way. After five minutes I spurted spunk over her tits and stomach - there was a lot of it and it went everywhere. Chris gently continued to massage me as I came down from an intensity of orgasm I'd seldom experienced.

So, there it was: I had seduced this prim and pretty wife up to a point where there was little that we hadn't done... but what next? Would she say, "Oh God, what have I done?" Would she turn against me?

In fact, she said, "I need a tissue." I knew there were some in the room somewhere so I turned on the light. And there she was... nude, splattered with cum, walking around the room without a second thought. I knew then that it was not over.

As she dressed, I said, looking at her tits, "I hope I'll get a chance to see those again."

She answered in a softly naughty voice, "I expect you will."

We kissed, deeply for perhaps five minutes... And then with a squeeze of our hands, she slipped out onto the landing and back to her room.

(Christine)

I’m a huge fan of mutual masturbation, be it two people masturbating at the same time in front of each other, or pleasuring one another individually. Both are extremely erotic and an enormous turn on for me.

Taking control of my own sexuality and pleasure, I allowed David to bring me to orgasm. It felt hot and tingly, crept up my legs and swelled in my groin. Soaked in my own juices my clitoris was throbbing. There was now only going to be one outcome... I closed my eyes as my blissful climax took hold.

Grinning like a Cheshire cat I noticed David’s rampant member had leaked a tiny amount of pre-cum. I slowly pulled back his foreskin and took him into my mouth as more pre-cum oozed from him. David was ready to explode. Using the natural lubricants available, I slid my wet hand slowly over the full length of his cock, drawing his foreskin back tightly. I knew this wouldn't take long. I felt his balls tightened as I invited him to straddle me seconds before he shot string after string hot warm sticky goo all over me.

(David)

In the morning I got up, showered, dressed and went downstairs. I wondered how Christine would be with me but was reasonably confident - after all she'd willingly participated. I went around a corner and there she was walking towards me. I smiled, winked, and she grinned in a complicit way - no problem there then.

During the lectures, we would occasionally catch each other's eye but it wasn't until lunch that, having finished the buffet, I announced that I had a couple of things to do before the next session. Christine immediately said, "me too," and left the room. I discovered later that a couple of people raised their eyebrows at that - especially her roommate who had noticed her 3.00am entrance the night before.

In my room, Christine looked very serious and said, "I don't want this to become too often."

I was a little disappointed, but said, "yeah, sure... but come here and kiss me." Immediately it started again - deep kissing and groping, although not to the extent of the previous night. I said to her, "just come to the room for a short time tonight."

Well, she came to the room alright, but once again was there a long time. She still wouldn't let me make love to her but this time all our clothes came off immediately - no hesitation at all. We spent several hours in bed, stroking and kissing each other to an orgasm each before she went back.

During this time she confided in me that she had dreamed about me in a sexual way on the very first night - I suppose my (not exactly shy) personality had made an impression. This went some way to explaining her quick acceptance of my advances on the first night.

As the week wore on not much changed - she came to the room every night and crept out at (about) four in the morning. When the Friday came, I realised that there was a real chance that a weekend back with her husband, at the opposite end of the country from me, might bring her to her senses and everything would come to an end. When I asked her about that she assured me that everything would be the same, but I had my doubts.

I did tell her that I was ‘going to do some shopping' before the course resumed... and left her in no doubt that I meant condoms... and she smiled but still made no sign that I would make a breakthrough. There was, though, one very significant moment before the week ended; on the Friday lunchtime, as we were all preparing to leave, she sidled up to me in the bar and said softly that she had been allocated her own room for the second week... and it not only had a double bed but it was a four-poster bed!

The total complicity, along with the sparkle in her eye and utter sexuality gave me encouragement that things would continue the next week... and that there was a lot more to come.

The following Sunday evening I arrived at the hotel before Christine and wondered what sort of reception she would give me when she arrived.

(Christine)

My weekend at home was bland, to say the least. Geoffrey has the sex drive of a postage stamp. On my first night back home, he just pecked me goodnight on the cheek, turned over and went off to sleep.

I lay awake for hours thinking about David and what was to come the following week in the privacy of my own single occupancy room.

The decision to sleep with someone is often rushed and the consequences regrettable; the last thing I wanted was to end up feeling cheated and used. I went over and over it in my head, tormenting myself with indecision. I concluded that even with my guilty conscience, the spark he had ignited inside of me was fast turning into a raging inferno.

I had to go all the way, I desperately needed to make love to this man. My decision was made, I turned over and drifted off to sleep.

(David)

Christine checked into the hotel and went up to her room - I feigned the intention to go to the bar but went up to her room - she had left it unlocked. She had only been in there a few seconds and was still hanging her clothes up. When I entered, locking the doors behind me, she immediately lay down, on her back, on the large bed and I got next to her.

Within no more than thirty seconds we were naked and all over each other, tongues as far down throats as we could, her nipples bursting and her fanny soaked (and full of my fingers). I really think even now, that in that instant, had I mounted her then lust probably might have won her over, but we had to get down for the week's briefing, so nothing went any further. As well as wanting her physically, by this time I was beginning to really, really like this very ordinary, very fun, very complicit and oh so naughty girl.

That night there would be no need for creeping around in the early hours returning to our rooms - I simply moved into her room. That night we got into bed, nude from the outset, and I told her, ‘'I've been shopping,'' and put the condoms on the table by the bed.

She grinned but still said, "I'm not doing that." Frustrating, but at least it was the very beginning of the week.

The same sort of thing started - sucking, fingers, licking… and a bit of an advancement. I was lying on top of her (she had no objection to that even though my prick was so very, very close to her entrance) and after much persuasion she let me rub the end of it along her labia. Ecstasy but agony!

She even let me (after I promised not to take advantage) put just the very end in as long as I took it right out again. All the time, she was keeping a hold on my prick with her hand to make sure I kept my promise.

At about two in the morning, she said that we really did need to get to sleep. I was on the point of exploding. I said, with some resignation, something that led to one of the most memorable moments of my life...

"Ok then, but PLEASE will you just let me see how it feels to be inside you, just for a moment - I promise it will just be for a moment and I won't move."

Chris didn't speak - she didn't say a word. She just let go of my prick (although not moving her hand away), and (at last) I slid into her, all the way. It was just gorgeous, an exquisite moment.

(Christine)

Saturated in my juices, David's penis was nudging the entrance of my vagina, sliding between my now slippery labia. David’s non-penetrative sex caressed my engorged clitoris, the length of his shaft danced slowly and methodically over my fleshy nub, brushing over it, stirring up wild passion. His wet, warm mouth sucking, teasing and tasting as he kissed me.

I wanted him inside me. In one single moment of ecstasy, I raised my knees slightly allowing him full penetration. In a heartbeat, he slid his manhood inside me.

(David)

I had really meant to experience the exquisite pleasure of being surrounded by her silkiness just for a moment, but as I entered her I couldn't help myself - I pressed down hard... not moving, just pressing... and she responded in kind. Our mouths were locked together, my right hand was mauling her breast and our groins were grinding.

It happened so naturally, so beautifully - We both started to move slightly, then more so - I pulled a little out of her and she bucked up her hips so as not to let me go. In seconds all restraint was gone and we were making love - it really was more making love than fucking.

There were still no words - partly because of our panting and gasping and (from my part) I was frightened of breaking the spell. After, perhaps, six or seven minutes, Christine broke her mouth from our perpetual kissing and I prepared for her to say, "That's enough." I wouldn't have minded too much because the big change had been made and I knew it would progress the next day. But instead, she looked at me very intensely, kissed me again very briefly, and whispered, "I think you'd better put something on.”

I hated to stop (and don't much like condoms anyway) but the deal was complete.  We were going to make love to conclusion. I put the light on and got a condom out of the box. Then in a moment of inspiration, I said, "you put it on me." Christine didn't hesitate - she rolled it on me and then in an indescribably erotic manner continued to rub both her hands up and down my hard prick from tip to root, perhaps five or six times.

I put the lights out again, gently pushed her back and re-entered her. We made love (in fact by now it was fairly animalistic - maybe this was fucking) until I had my oh-so-long awaited orgasm deep inside her. We lay there, gasping for breath, and Christine said very softly, "So much for my self-control." I smiled at her and we drifted off to sleep, wrapped around each other.

(Christine)

Nothing was said, we made love in complete silence except for the sound of our heavy breathing and two bodies slapping together.

David, frenzied with lust, was pumping into me like a piston. My vaginal moistness was now beginning to run between my bum cheeks. With every thrust, tiny pockets of air were forcibly ejected from my vagina.

His body went rigid as he called my name. Placing my hands behind his head, I gently pulled his head into my chest as he filled the condom with what seemed like an endless delivery of spunk.

(David)

This was just the beginning of a wonderful and - in the end (for Christine) - catastrophic experience.

For the remainder of the three-week period, we made love at every chance - every night and some mornings or afternoons if there was a break. It turned out that Christine and her whole family were deeply involved with one of the larger religious groups (I won't say which one in case it offends anyone). That made it seem even stranger that she'd fallen into this so completely.

Christine would never contemplate any position but missionary, although I suggested changing things around. She would just say, "No, I don't like it like that," if I tried (for example) doggie. Perhaps that was part of the teachings they believed in, I don't know (although I expect the teaching, "Don't fuck other delegates during a training course," would have taken priority).

At the end of the first three-week stint, we had a painful parting at the station. At first, Christine said, "No contact at all - too dangerous," but in the event, we spoke most days, either in the day when we were at work or in the evenings if both our spouses happened to be out anywhere.

On one occasion, I remember Christine masturbating very loudly when I was on the phone to her, describing (although in fairly straightforward terms) what she was doing. Also, we wrote (to our work addresses) most days.

On two occasions I travelled to Sheffield - about two-thirds of the distance from me to her - to meet Christine for a day. We would both make up stories for the spouses (or just hope they wouldn't phone us at work) and I would drive, she would get a train. We made love in the car, in forests, fields... whatever. We would lunch in remote pubs and then find somewhere even more remote to start again.

As the end of the six-week break approached, we were both growing more and more excited. On the phone, we would fantasise in detail about what we were going to do... not with dirty talk, but for example, "we'll drive to a pub in Merseyside one evening, then come back and make love all night." We agreed to ‘invent' (for the spouses) an early restart on the Sunday afternoon as an excuse to get there several hours early. We were like love-struck teenagers.

On the final Friday - just forty-eight hours before we would meet up again - I phoned her several times in the evening. We were counting down the hours and every time we were about to end she would say, "call just one more time in an hour... then we'll be an hour closer.”

(Christine)

We had pushed our affair to the limit, we’d done it all. Oral, full penetrative sex, non-penetrative sex, masturbation even al-fresco sex. I had had the most wonderful love affair with the ‘nice looking’ guy from the train, who managed to set my heart on fire. It was dangerous, audacious and bold, but in my heart of hearts, I knew this torrid affair could only end one way. Badly.

(David)

So I did... one final call, an hour before Christine's husband was due back. I called from a phone box (no mobiles then) to say our final, "We'll see each other in forty-two hours," sweet talk. The phone was answered by Christine, fast and panicky.

"He's back."

Of course, I had never been to Christine's house so knew nothing about it. Without thinking I said, "OK - see you on Sunday. I love you."

Christine didn't answer - she just hurriedly put the phone down. And, after a good five seconds, I heard something else... another phone being put down, this time on an extension that her husband had picked up… and I never saw Christine again.

(Based on true events. My huge and eternal thanks to AmyJayne for so brilliantly helping me to encapsulate the events)