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An ordinary young English wife Part two

Tags: affair
The concluding part of a true story.
In the morning I got up, showered, dressed and went downstairs. I wondered how Rachel 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.

Rachel immediately said, “Me too,” and left the room.

I discovered later that a couple of people raised their eyebrows at that, especially her room mate who had noticed her three am entrance the night before.

In my room Rachel looked very serious and said, “I don’t want this to happen too often.”

I was a little disappointed, but said, “Alright then, but come here and kiss me.” Immediately it started again, deep kissing, groping etc, 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 it wasn’t for a short 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 the night before we got together. I suppose my (not exactly shy) personality had made an impression. This explained 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 realized 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. 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. 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 I was like a cat on hot bricks as I waited for Rachel to arrive. The other delegate from her region, Phil, mentioned that he was going to pick her up from the station that evening and I casually said I’d go along too. He was perhaps a bit wet behind the ears and didn’t seem to twig that it was a bit odd.

At the station I left him by the barriers and went to meet the train. Phil must have been brain dead not to click something was up.

I saw her walking towards me; I smiled and asked her (quite nervously) if everything was still the same. She smiled and nodded, again displaying the sparkle and naughtiness. Gives me shivers even now! Rachel checked into the hotel and went up to her room. I feigned the intention to go to the bar. As soon as I lost Phil I 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 door 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. It’s important to realize that, as well as wanting her physically, by this time I was beginning to really, really like this astonishing, very ordinary, very fun, very complicit and oh so naughty girl. Was I in love? To an extent, yes, I was.

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 pointedly 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 with sucking, fingers and licking but there was 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 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 tip inside 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,

"Alright 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.”

She 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.

I had really meant to experience the 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 Rachel 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 said, “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”.

Rachel 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 Rachel whispered that she obviously didn't have much self-control. I answered that she must have known we would make love that week - she looked at me, grinned, and said she had known that, yes, but had not expected it to happen so soon in the week. We drifted off to sleep, wrapped around each other.

This was just the beginning of a wonderful and – in the end (for Rachel) - 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 Rachel 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. Rachel 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!).

All the other group delegates knew what was going on – after all it was obvious we were sharing a room. They were a bit shocked (understandably) and in hindsight we were crazy to be so explicit – we should have been a bit more subtle. I don’t suppose the others respected what we were doing very much – they knew we were both married even though they did not know our spouses personally.

At the end of the first three-week stint we had a painful parting at the station. At first Rachel said there must be no contact at all because it would be 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 Rachel masturbating very loudly when I was on the phone to her, describing (although in fairly straightforward terms) what she was doing.

We wrote to each other (at our work addresses) most days. On two occasions I traveled to Sheffield – about two thirds of the distance from me to her - to meet Rachel for a day. I would drive, she would get a train. We made love in the car, in forests, fields, wherever. 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. We agreed to ‘invent’ an early re-start 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 ask me to call just one more time in an hour, because then we would be an hour closer.

So I did. On the final call, an hour before Rachel’s husband was due back, I called from a phone box - there were no mobiles in those days. The phone was answered by Rachel fast and panicky.

She just said, “He’s back.” Of course I had never been to Rachel’s house so knew nothing about it.

Without thinking I said, “OK – see you on Sunday. I love you.”

Rachel 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 Rachel again.


I still think of Rachel even though this is over 30 year ago. I've tried to track her down on Friends Reunited etc but with no joy. I hope she's OK and hope the marriage survived. I carried on at the training course, it was strange and lonely without her. I tried to call her at work twice, I got through to her but she was distant and remote.

On the second call she said, “If you call again your wife will find out about everything.”

I don’t suppose for a moment Rachel will read this; despite everything, I still think she’s not a naughty wife – but if any of you think you might know her please let me know.

I know this was a bit fluffier than my other story on here, but I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless.

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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