My First Affair - Our First Meeting

I flew to Seattle for my first in-person meeting with W (read about who he was and how we met here). It was the first time I had cheated on my husband, and even though I had known W online for the better part of a year, I was still very, very nervous. We had never seen other before and the faxed photos we had were not very clear.

It was like a first date, only there were considerations that were unlike any first date I had ever had. First, we were meeting for sex, so there was no question about how the date would end, but I didn't know if I should bring condoms or if he would?  And we hadn't talked about that (the first lesson in many I would learn about the logistics of extramarital sex). Second, what should I wear on the plane?  Ok, I know most gals think about what they are going to wear on a date, but I was wrestling with questions like, "Bra and panties or nothing at all under my dress?"  Sure, going without underwear sounds sexy and all, but a couple hours of anticipation on the plane would leave me...uh....damp, which might make my sheer dress wet, too, and that would be bad. I opted for sexy bra and panties and a very sheer, almost see-through black dress.  I was still fairly young, thin, and cute at that time.  I wore my long brown hair down, pulled back on the sides by two combs. The only jewelry I wore was my wedding ring.

On the plane, I was more nervous than I had been in years. I took out the grainy black and white faxed photo I had of him and stared at it.  Would we recognize each other at the airport? Would he be attracted to me? Would I be attracted to him?  What we do if there wasn't any physical attraction? Did I really want to go through with this?  What kind of a wife and mother does this sort of thing? For a while, I regretted the decision to get on that plane.  I thought about how I could tell him that I changed my mind - how I could convince him that it was me and not him (how lame did that sound?  Sheesh....), but there was no time to really think about it. The plane was landing.

I joined the herd of travelers exiting the plan and I saw him as soon as I stepped into the terminal. I think he saw me at the same time. The very first thing I noticed about him were his eyes. He said they were blue, but he didn't tell me how piercingly blue they were.  The second thing I noticed was his smile. I don't think I took a breath between that first moment I saw him and the 15 seconds it took to walk over to where he was standing in the terminal. He reached out and hugged me with one arm while taking my bag with the other. He said , "Hi" as he kissed me, and my whole body responded to him instantly.  I wondered how I could possibly have been worried about physical attraction.

The next thing he said was, "Let's get out of here," and I was more than happy to follow him as he led me to the parking garage and where he had parked his car. I was glad we had talked so much on he phone because his voice was that same familiar voice I had been hearing a few times a week for the last several months. Everything else was new and scary, but his voice reminded me that I knew him, and I didn't need to be scared.

Once we were in the car in the dimly lit parking garage, he kissed me again. This time it was the deep, passionate kiss that I had been dreaming about. He wasn't hesitant or tentative at all.  His hand moved slowly up my dress and between my legs.  For a moment, I regretted the decision to wear panties, but there wasn't much time to regret; I was completely mesmerized by this man. I knew at that moment that I would be doing anything and everything he wanted. Heck, I'd fuck him right there in the car in the parking garage if he wanted to, but that's not what he had in mind.

For the longest time, he gently stroked my clit through my panties as we kissed. Every now and then, he'd stop and move his hand up to my breast, sliding it under my bra.  He'd linger there awhile and then move back down to my pussy. His other arm was around me, with his hand behind my head, fingers entwined in my hair, pulling my hair firmly as he held my head firmly in place.  There was no way I was breaking from that kiss even if I wanted to.  I don't know how long we stayed there like that, but it was quite a while.  I could hear cars coming and going from the two parking spaces on either side of us, but he didn't stop or even hesitate.

At some point, though, he did stop kissing me.  I pulled a tissue from my purse and wiped the lipstick from his face.  We both laughed about that. Then he started the car and we began on our drive to the hotel.

Neither of us had planned the hotel.  I assumed he knew the best place to go and he figured that I would be arranging it, so we had to make a decision.  We ended up driving around a while while he decided where I should stay. As we drove through the part of town where he lived, he actually asked me to slide down in the seat so no one would see us together. Yes, for real.  While it felt very strange, I did what he asked. While I was bent over in the seat, I decided to start rubbing his thigh, then a little higher.  I unfastened his pants and started licking and suckling just on the tip of his already hard cock.  It didn't surprise me that he found a hotel very quickly after that.

I checked in the hotel and we went to the room. We stood looking at each other for a minute or so. I don't think either of us really thought this moment would ever come.  He stepped over to me and put his arms around me, unzipping my dress and letting it fall to the ground. Now I was grateful for the sexy bra and panties. He kissed me as he unhooked my bra and slid it off my shoulders. I unbuttoned his shirt as he led me over to the bed. I laid back on the bed and he just stood there looking at me for awhile.  Normally, that would have been made very uncomfortable, but it didn't at all that day.  He reached down and pulled off my panties.  He pulled off his own pants as he was climbing onto the bed with me.

This is as good a palce as any to tell you what W looked like.  I already told you about his gorgeous blue eyes and his amazing smile.  He had blond hair, and yes, it was quite thin on top, but he cut it short and it was attractively styled - no strange comb-over or anything like that.  He looked his age (46) and I could tell when he came very close that he had some grey starting to come in.  He was not tall - only about 5'8" - and he was stocky, a bit overweight, but very comfortable with his body. The only part of his appearance that surprised me was his unusally small dick.

While I hadn't cheated on my husband before, I had been with more than a few men before I was married, and I had never seen a dick as small as W's.  It was about 3 inches long (if that long) when it was fully erect, and it was not very thick. I'll admit that it shocked me.  I truly wasn't prepared for that. I think I would have been permanently distracted by that if he hadn't slid down between my legs and started licking my pussy like an expert.

I learned another important lesson that day (in one of my future posts, I'll summarize all of the lessons I've learned....it's a long list).  I knew W was a musician - a saxophone player, to be specific. What I learned that day was that musicians (particularly brass and woodwind musicians) have a gift for pleasing women with their mouths. Ladies, you have not truly lived until you have had a professional musician tongue your clit like he tongues his instrument. My, my my!

That first orgasm was unbelievable.  As I was still cuming, he climbed up and slid his cock between my legs. I didn't feel him enter me. In fact, I don't think he did. I think he just rubbed against me until he came. 

As the day faded into evening, I came several times as he pleased me with his fingers and his tongue. He never got hard again, but I still sucked him to orgasm twice that night.

Something I learned about W that day was that he was diabetic (why had he kept this a secret?) and he suffered from ED as a result. He didn't want to tell me because he was afraid I wouldn't want to see him, which is not at all true. In fact, I wish I had been a little more prepared for he situation than I was. Before that day, I didn't know a man could have an orgasm without become erect, but it is possible.  I also thought that intercourse was required for satisfying sex, but over the next four years I had the best sex I had ever had in my life up to that point, and he was never able to sustain an erection long enough for intercourse, in spite of all the pills and gadgets he/we tried.   In fact, our experience together got better once he quit trying.  We both became more creative, and I'm convinced the sex was much more satisfying because  a  "fuck and run" approach just wasn't possible.

So, he went home to his wife that night, and he came back to spend the next day with me.  It was a blur - one orgasm leading right to the next and the next. I had no idea that sex could be so pleasurable.

He took me back to the airport the next evening.  We had already made plans for our next meeting in San Diego in a few weeks. I kissed him goodbye in the car because he couldn't risk kissing me at the gate since he might run into someone he knew at the airport (this was well before 9/11 and you could still wait at the boarding gate with someone who was traveling).

When I got home, I jumped online and let him know I was home safely.  Then I turned my attention to spending time with my husband and young son.  My husband commented that I seemed much more relaxed than I usually did after a business trip.

If he only knew.

My First Affair - Who, What, Where, When, and Why

I met W online, on IRC specifically, when I was 30.  He was 46.  We were both married.  Neither of us had any intention of actually meeting, of course, when we first met online.  Both of us had been playing online for a few years, frequenting "married but looking" and BDSM chat rooms, and participating in phone sex here and there with some of the more intriguing people we had met.

I lived in California and W lived in Seattle, so he was "safe," meaning there was little chance we would meet, so I felt very comfortable sharing intimate details of my life with him.  Soon, we became good friends who relied on each other for moral support and even marital advice.

It took six months of chatting online and on the phone before either one of us even broached then subject of meeting in person. Why did we wait so long?  Maybe we knew that the relationship would take on a new physical dimension and that scared us.  Maybe I hadn't yet decided that I was willing to physically cheat on my husband (W had already had an affair ten years prior to our meeting). Maybe we just liked the way things were and we didn't want to change anything.

I was the one who brought it up during a private chat.  I was going to have the opportunity to travel to Seattle so I asked if he wanted to meet.  What followed was one of those long and uncomfortable chat silences.  You know the kind I mean. You're staring at a blank window waiting for a response...and waiting....and waiting.  You wish you could take back the last thing you typed, but you can't.  It's just right out there in black and white and you're forced to look at it while you wait for a response.

Finally, after what seemed like 10 minutes, his reply came through.  It was a very simple, "I'd love to meet." Wow. Talk about a heart stopper!  Since I'm a "get things done" kind of gal, all the arrangements were made within 24 hours and 48 hours later I was on a plane to Seattle.

You have to understand that we had not seen each other yet.  Photo sharing was not as common or easy as it is today, so the best we had were faxed photos of each other and the written personal descriptions we had provided. He said his hair was thinning, but what did that mean?  I didn't know, and the faxed photo was certainly no help. Would we be as physically attracted to each other as we were emotionally attracted to each other?

So, who was this W and why was I attracted to him from a distance enough to get on a plane and go see him and, ultimately, and sex with him? He was a married father of three, married to the same woman for 25 years. It sounded like their relationship was friendly, stable, and reliable, which I liked a lot.  I certainly didn't need some newly separated guy chasing me down or showing up at my house. He was well-educated, employed (an architect), articulate, and funny. He liked being married and had no intention of leaving his wife, and he understood that I loved my husband and that I did not want to leave my marriage, either. Even though he was married, he was emotionally available and open to me.  He wasn't afraid of intimacy, and he was very supportive and encouraging. And he loved sex as much as I did.  He enjoyed talking about it, online and on the phone (he had a very sexy voice), and we seemed to have the same tastes and interests.

We met that first time in Seattle (I'll provide the details of that first meeting in another post), and we continued to meet every 2-3 months at various places throughout the western United States for the next four years. We both traveled for work, so we would coordinate our travel calendars whenever we could so we could be together. It was one of the most wonderful and fulfilling relationships of my life up to that point (and the best sex I had ever had!).

So why did the relationship end after 4 years of it was so great? Tragedy struck.  His wife died. He went through a terrible period of mourning and guilt.  We didn't see each other at all after his wife died, but we continued our relationship online and on the phone. About nine months later, I knew it was over for us when he asked me to move to Seattle...and marry him. As I said, I had no intention of leaving my husband, and I lovingly reiterated that for him.  We considered the possibility of him moving to California so we could be closer to each other.  He could live in the same town I lived in and we could see each other weekly or even more often, but he still had a son living at home and he wouldn't disrupt his life (which was the right decision, of course).

Eventually, he began dating.  Soon, he met someone and re-married.  We have had no contact since the day of their wedding.

I still think of him fondly and often.  I wonder if we would still be together if his wife had not died or if something else would have intervened to end the relationship. Four years is a very long time as affairs go. How much longer would we have had before the passion subsided on its own?  Would it have ever died?

As incredible as my relationship was with W, it's also my greatest regret.  taking the step to cheat on my husband the first time was very difficult.  It wasn't an easy decision at all. The unforeseen effect of that decision, though, was that cheating would be easier the second time, and the third. It shouldn't be surprising, then, that my advice to anyone who has not yet physically cheated on their spouse is, "Don't do it." You can't turn back the clock.  You can never look at your husband or wife again in the same way.  You'll always have a secret that you can never tell. What may have been a temporary barrier between you becomes permanent.  It doesn't have to ruin a marriage, but it definitely changes it - forever.