I was sent this many years after meeting a married lady

[LeicesterBull75]

The details about me and my life are unimportant. What you need to know is that I've been married to my husband for a little under two years and I loved him so much that I cheated on him to make him happy.

We married in our early 20s, just as I was beginning my nursing degree. My husband came to me, eager to start a family right away. After a year of trying to conceive, we made the decision to seek medical help to understand our failing. Several consultations and tests later, we determined that I was quite capable. My gynecologist, in her light-hearted manner, said, "You'd better be careful during your most fertile time even a small amount would do the job."

Sadly, my husband wasn't as fortunate. Turns out he had a low sperm count, due to a childhood injury, an unremarkable incident back then, but one that would have lasting impact now that he was desperate to have children. His doctor tried to give us hope, encouraging us to keep trying, but cautioned the chances were low.

Each month that I told my husband my period had arrived, I felt so crushed. My heart would go out to him seeing the look of defeat and hearing his dejected sigh at his perceived failing. I was in this with him, our shared desire for a child. The words of a loving and supportive wife were meant to give him hope, to cheer him up. "Next month, Baby." I would say, forcing a hopeful smile. But after six more months of disappointment, it was hard to stay positive. My words of 'next month' encouragement began to ring hollow, even to me.

As I entered my second year of nursing and started clinical rotations, I found a passion for pediatrics. The irony of being surrounded by kids but not being able to have my own didn't escape me. The little buggers rarely failed to put a smile on my face, but my heart ached with melancholy for the reminder of what I couldn't have.

What broke me was seeing the fatigue of failure wash over my husband, depression had set in. We shared our feelings, and he confessed that he felt useless, less than, because he couldn't provide for us in the way he believed a husband should. This doubt pervaded him and our love making sessions suffered from it. Our time in the bedroom became less frequent and less connected, even when he felt up to it.

In frustration one day, he admitted with a defeated sigh, "What's the point if I can't make you pregnant?" I pleaded with him, assuring him that he was more than enough, his love was all I needed. We could shower our affection on nieces and nephews. The lament in his eyes told me what I didn't want to hear he had given up.

I admit, this hurt me to my core. His sadness was fraying our emotional connection, dragging us towards a future I didn't want. His lack of interest and desire left me desperate for the emotional pleasure I craved from sex with him. Yes, I too, felt the sting of being unable to conceive, but more than anything I wanted my loving husband back, the one who brought me such joy in all areas of my life, including the tenderness we shared in the bedroom.

In all other respects he was a skilled lover, and our time together had taught him how to play my body like a fine instrument. An instrument that wanted to sing and to dance to the thrill of the pleasure he brought me. But that was fading with each new moon. I found myself often wondering what the future would bring, if things didn't change.

This need in me, to be fulfilled, was likely the catalyst for the illicit plan taking shape in my subconscious. Truthfully I had never been tempted to stray, he was my world and I never wanted to hurt him by betraying my vows.

Trying to divert myself from acting on this plan, we discussed alternatives. Medical insemination was costly. He was not pleased at the mention of a natural donor; the thought of someone else touching me was too painful to consider. Finally we talked of adoption. He was initially against it as he wanted a child of his own. He relented when I eventually persuaded him to at least explore the idea. Unfortunately, we weren't in a financially stable enough position to meet adoption criteria.

Months went by with at most a peck on the lips and a cuddle at night, I was determined to have him touch me again to return the man I married to me. This thought of mating with a donor grew inside, fostered in the deep recesses of my mind. I needed solutions to achieve these goals.

How does one even do this, have a one night stand with a stranger? I wasn't naïve to the concept, it was just so foreign to me, something I didn't really want. I had only dated one other man, a jerk from high school, before marrying my husband. Furthermore I was a virgin on our wedding night, so my experience with other guys was limited.

It started innocently enough searching the web to look for solutions. Maybe there were other couples who faced the same problems. Perhaps they could provide answers. I was too afraid of getting caught to reach out directly, but reading their stories I learned most had been successful.

Even friends and family couldn't help; their platitudes of 'Maybe it wasn't meant to be,' added to my frustration, but strengthened my resolve to fix this. Soon enough all my efforts lead back to the same result: a natural donor.

It wasn't the path I wanted to take, and certainly not one my husband would entertain. I felt lost, I had no one to discuss my moral dilemma with no one to assist me in making the right decision. Slowly watch the love we shared wither away or sacrifice my vows, giving him the child he so urgently wanted.

What other alternatives did I have? How do I do this without getting caught? I couldn't do a hook up app as it required a profile with pictures; the thought of my husband finding out and seeing the pain in his eyes was just not something I could accept.

Going to a bar for a one night stand was both risky and gave me the creeps. No, I needed to find a site or community that was discrete, one that would make me feel safe in both choosing a donor and where I could assure no lasting diseases that would betray my infidelity.

My mind made up to see this through at least partially. I began rereading the stories from the successful couples, hunting for a site to suit my needs. Part of me hoping I would fail in doing so, part of me dreading success.

My thoughts turned analytical, only thinking about the practicalities, not the actual deed. I didn't want a young stranger who would be a jerk or brag to his friends, no I needed someone older, someone who would respect the rules I put in place, and someone who wasn't married. I couldn't live with myself knowing I was destroying someone else's marriage, though I sobered at the realization that I would be tarnishing mine.

I eventually found a website dedicated to my needs and criteria. I deliberated on creating an anonymous profile for several weeks before doing it. I weighed the pros and cons and after another frustrating discussion with my husband, I went forward with my plan and placed an ad.

Wanted: An older gentleman, must be respectful and discreet for a wife in need. Must not be married, must be virile as I have a fetish and highly aroused by the roleplay of breeding with a stranger, however I will be SAFE during our play time.

I felt sick at typing those words but knew it had to be done.

I hadn't placed any photos on my profile, and even so it wasn't a day before I was bombarded with notifications. Most were from men my age with rude and derogatory comments about 'how they would fuck me so well I'd leave my husband' or send pics of their dicks with two word responses. No thank you, I said to myself. What they didn't know is I had no interest in their size or skill only that they could produce viable sperm.

After another week of weeding through the site's message feature, one did catch my attention. His approach was respectful, explaining he and his late wife had a similar fetish and he missed it. He offered his name as Martin, though I wished he hadn't. Naively, I thought we could keep it clinical. Remaining anonymous would have been easier. Still, I responded, saying my name was Laura, a fake name of course. I told him about myself, some of it real, some not.

The exchanged messages flew back and forth between us over the following week. Trading vital information I would need to make a decision. The lie slipped off my typing fingers so easily, telling Martin that I was in a loveless marriage, and needed the excitement and spark of passion. I guess the second part wasn't a full lie. I did want those things, but with my husband. I eventually coaxed out of him that part of the thrill for him was taking another man's wife. Something he'd long fantasized about but had not acted on while still married.

His admission gave me pause. I almost deleted our contact. Upon reflection I decided that he'd been respectful to this point and when challenged, didn't deny that it was a morally wicked desire. At least I felt he was being honest with me about it and I couldn't throw stones since I was lying to him about my reasons. Besides, I rationalized, it's not like this was a lasting situation, it was one small moment in my life and then I'd never see him again. He wasn't taking me, he was giving me something my husband couldn't.

I couldn't explain it but something just felt right about it, about him, so I asked if he wanted to test the connection in person. He agreed and we made plans to meet at a café, in a neighboring city about 30 miles from my home. I couldn't take the chance that someone would see us together.

It hurt to lie to my husband, telling him I was meeting an old friend for a long lunch and I'd be late getting back. He didn't question me, had no reason to, I'd never lied to him about something so monumental before. I was nauseous as he looked at me, fearing that he'd see right through me, but he simply said "Drive careful. See you when I get home from work."

Wanting to be discreet and not share a lasting photo, I had told Martin I would be wearing a red cocktail dress with matching heels, my long brunette hair in a single braid and my general description, he had done the same.

During the short drive, the knots in my stomach twisted with a mixture of guilt and excitement. When we finally met at a quaint local coffee shop, I was surprised at my first sight of Martin. Of course, I had built a mental image based on his description but he didn't match it. I wouldn't have picked him out of a crowd and thought 'Oh, he's hot.' He wasn't ugly by society's standards either. It was that he didn't fit the mold I had created in my mind. Yet, on a subconscious level, there was something that drew me in, an aura of magnetism that commanded my attention.

He reminded me of an aging cowboy from the westerns my parents would make us watch as kids, back before they divorced. He stood a good six inches taller than my 5'6" frame, I felt so small beside him. His broad shoulders and a softening midsection made him reasonably fit for a man of 48, I decided. His salt-and-pepper stubble, short with a stylish cut, gave him a distinguished look. The jeans, which emphasized his nice bottom, and the stylish, well fitted button down shirt added to the cowboy image less the boots or hat.

It was his steel blue eyes that attracted me, they had a way of seeing to the very heart of me. I admit the way he looked at me, it excited me and I felt flush. His eyes were warm with a tinge of sadness, but they promised how hungry he was, how much he wanted me. I chuckled to myself, unable to decide if it was that or the month-long drought that made me damp.

I watched as his eyes scanned up my body, then settled on my gaze. "My word, Laura, you certainly make a striking image, stunning absolutely stunning." His comments caused a blush to sprout on my cheeks. "And that dress is a wise choice. It suits you." He certainly knew how to make a woman feel desired. I knew I was reasonably attractive, but the way he said it, with that charismatic tone, caused a shiver to run down my spine.

We chatted for an hour as the ambience of the café floated around us. His manner was easy and outgoing; he made me feel special and yet respected at the same time. He mentioned being in I.T., and I thought it was a perfect match for him. I laughed with him as he told a story of his kids' folly in building a cardboard boat when they were little. He beamed when he spoke of them, and I could tell how proud he was.

I don't know why I did it; this wasn't anonymous nor clinical. He seemed genuine in his interest in me and what I had to say, sure I knew by this point he wanted me, the signs were there, but it's like he just got me. It felt right, so I shared that I was in my second year of nursing school, enjoyed working with kids, and would probably specialize in pediatrics once I got my certification.

Time seemed to drift away, like the aroma of coffee surrounding us as we talked. I relaxed, becoming more comfortable by the second. I had worried about meeting a total stranger, so I had created some safeguards back home, setting a check-in time with a girlfriend. But the longer we talked, it became clear they were unnecessary. I picked up my phone and sent a message 'All good.' Somehow I knew I could trust him.

He told me of his late wife, that her dying wish was for him to find love again. I could see the sadness misting his eyes as he talked about her. "It's been difficult seeking company after her passing five years ago, but your ad...it spoke to me." Martin shared.

"I'm sorry for any awkwardness. I just...this is my first...you know, since losing her. I feel like a teenager on my first date." As he talked about her I thought, 'They had a strong bond.' For the first time since meeting him, he seemed lost for words. "If you're nervous, you have me fooled. You seem so confident, sure of yourself but not in an arrogant way." I said, reaching out and patting his hand in reassurance.

Settling back in my chair, "Being in your company...it just feels natural. Like in another life we could be good friends." I shared. However, what I was too afraid to admit was how desired he made me feel, the ravenous way he looked at me, a promise of pleasures he could provide. I was beginning to realize with shame, I may want more from him than just his seed.

"Martin, you seem wonderful, like tailor-made for what I'm looking for. I feel like we have a connection. I'm wondering what the catch is. Are you an ax murderer?" I tried to laugh like it was a joke, but internally, I thought 'Fuck, why did I say that? What if he is an axe murderer?' I admonished myself.

His eyes flashed with a look of hurt or concern but then softened with his smile. "Makes me feel better, not being the only one that's nervous," he said, picking up his tea and sipping it, then continued. "I feel it too," Martin said, his gaze lingering on me. "It's like finding that perfect outfit. Everything fits just right, and you can't help but be drawn to it. But I didn't want to admit it too early...didn't want to scare you off." Martin stated as he reached his hand out for mine, squeezed it once then let go.

Maybe it was foolish of me but his small gesture comforted me, reaffirming my earlier attitude of trust towards him. "If confessions are on the table...I contemplated deleting our messages." I could see the question on his lips and quickly supplied the answer. "Your fantasy. We're both adults, we all have them, but your fetish...taking married wives from their husbands...It scared me."

Martin rolled my words around for a bit, his brow furrowing, before he responded. "Despite the negative rep I.T. people have, I tend to be blunt and open with people. I find it best to just get things out there and know where I stand." The whole time he explained this, his eyes never wavered from mine, steady, as if wanting to prove the veracity of his words.

"Yes it's a fantasy, having the forbidden is something we've all thought about I suspect. I never acted upon it, but your ad, well," he shrugged "it seemed aligned with tasting that fruit." Martin explained. "Why didn't you delete my message?"

His penetrating gaze had me squirming in my seat a little, compelling me to be open with him. "I, uh...told myself that it was because you had been respectful. Didn't try to hide it. But if I'm being honest, it kinda excited me. You must think I'm a horrible person!" I covered my face, my hands hiding me from his judgement and my shame.

I heard his chuckle but it wasn't full of scorn "Horrible isn't a word I would use. Nothing wrong with being excited, I think that's what makes it fun. Maybe the risk as well, gets my blood pumping, wouldn't you agree?" He asked as he gently tugged my hands away, revealing my eyes to him.

"Yeah, maybe." I offered, my voice low, not wanting to reveal the truth.

"Remarkable and more importantly desirable would be the words I would use." The lust I saw confirmed his words for me. "I do have questions, though, before we continue. Why did you insist on an unmarried partner? Wouldn't a married man be less complicated?" his eyes exploring mine, probing for a truth I didn't want to share.

"Martin, it's already complicated, yet simple at the same time. Even though I'm betraying my vows, I couldn't live with myself by being the cause of some other woman's pain, knowing her husband had strayed." Stumbling over my next words, I said, "This...it's a one time thing, with you...I...I have a good reason...but it's one I'm not willing to reveal." My eyes pleaded with him not to press for more.

He stared back at me for long moments. My fingers tightened around the warm mug of tea in my hand, fear creeping in, thinking he might change his mind. His silence was unbearable, looking deep into my eyes, as if he could sense my hidden agenda. At last, he seemed to accept my answer. I sighed in relief, a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, when he asked, "Where do we go from here then?" my breath caught in my throat as I felt a spark between us.

Satisfied, I lowered my voice and continued. "To be clear there are rules; this is new for me and my emotions are all over the place so 'Angel' means STOP, no condoms because I want to feel you finish inside me, but this one is important...no catching feelings."

I waited to let my words sink in. "Are you good with those terms?" I asked, imparting my question with confidence I didn't quite feel.

His shoulders sagged minutely, and I could hear a note of disappointment in his voice. "Sure, that's fine."

I'm sure he felt the chemistry as much as I did, perhaps hoping it might be more than a one time thing. But I had to be strong. "Let's keep touch on the site. When I know my schedule we can plan a night out."

As I drove home, I pondered Martin's hug and peck on the cheek when we parted. This exchange between us, a simple act of parting but it conveyed so much. It made me feel safe and treasured, maybe. I hesitated at first, but as his arms engulfed me, his touch was both comforting and powerful, as if he wanted to possess me.

Echoing in the back of my mind, his voice, saying he wanted to take me from my husband. I shuddered at that thought whether from fear or lust I couldn't say. I reminded myself that the rules were in place for me too. His fantasy disturbed me on some level. Lately, I had been so lonely that, deep down, I knew if I didn't remain in control, dangerous things could transpire wicked things that maybe I secretly wanted.

When I got home, I channeled my guilt into making my husband's favorite meal for dinner. As the pork chops sizzled in the pan and the aromas of fried okra filled the kitchen, my mind drifted back to Martin and our conversation. He wasn't my type at least, not someone I would have been attracted to prior to being married. Yet, there was something about him that I was drawn to. He was 30 years older, taller, and more stocky than my husband. But that deep baritone voice and those eyes a girl could get lost in those eyes.

'Stop that.' I scolded myself. I only needed the blessing of his seed, I shouldn't be thinking such lewd thoughts. I was glad I had changed my mind. Initially, I had been prepared to do the deed right after the meet and greet wanting to get it over with before I chickened out. But with how quickly I felt the connection to Martin, I decided it would be wiser to give it some time, to reconsider my actions. I owed my husband one more cycle, one more chance. Yes, that's what I would do, seduce my husband tonight and hope we can pull off a miracle, saving my vows.

That night, my husband was treated like a king. I sat him down to dinner, soft candlelight casting a warm glow across our conversation, and a bottle of wine between us. We made small talk about his day at work. I could see how tired he was in the slump of his shoulders and the mechanical way he ate as his fork clinked against the plate.

Bless him for trying. He asked about my day with my old friend. I felt awful as I lied, saying it had been nice to relive the high school days, but we realized we didn't really have anything in common anymore. I didn't think I would be hearing from them again. I wanted it to be true. I wanted my husband to make love to me, to give me his child tonight and make my lies the truth.

Finishing the last of his pork chop, I grabbed the wine, "All right you're cut off." I lightly chided him. I stood up and put the bottle of wine away. I heard him clear the dishes from the table and place them in the sink. "Really, and why am I cut off? He asked with curiosity.

For my plan to work I had to pull out all the stops. So I wrapped my arms around him, as he rinsed the dishes in the sink, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. "Tonight I'm going to do something special for you, something I don't do often." He turned the water off and questioned, "Why?"

"Baby, you work hard for us, and you've been so down in the dumps about the baby thing." He started to protest and I wrapped my hand over his lips to shush him. "I don't want to argue tonight. I want you to make love to me. Since I don't do it often, today is your lucky day. You're getting a blowjob."

As he turned around I saw astonishment and a tiny spark of hunger, nothing like what I saw in Martin's eyes but I would take it. "I see someone likes that idea, not so tired anymore?" I teased him with a mischievous smile, grabbing his hands and pulling him away from the sink.

I led him to our bedroom, stripping down to nothing as I went, hoping to entice him. I had prepared the room earlier. When he entered he was surprised; the room lit by a few candles, the scent of vanilla wafted through the air. I wanted to reestablish our bond, but with how turned on I'd been all day; I needed him to fuck me, getting his seed inside me, is what I craved more.

In the past we shared control over the bedroom, either of us instigating sex when we were in the mood, but after all that transpired with Martin earlier and the dry spell, I practically attacked my husband.

I stripped him of his shirt, popping a few buttons free, in my rush to tease his chest with kisses. Feeling his heartbeat just beneath my lips, his familiar scent and taste, added to my growing lust. I trailed my hands down his toned abs, lightly biting his nipple and was rewarded with his mock "Ouch!" I then reached for his belt and whipped it off him with a snap.

"What's gotten into you?" he said in surprise and a growing lust filled voice. "You, I hope...before the night is over!" I answered, my voice sultry, smirking at him before lowering his slacks, dragging his boxers with them.

I hid my disappointment, as I freed his semi-erect dick, but was determined to fix that. Stepping out of his slacks and boxers, I pushed him backwards so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Let me take care of you, baby. You deserve a reward for taking care of us. My way of saying thank you." leaning over him I pressed my lips to his and felt euphoria as we kissed. Melting into the passion I'd missed and wanted from him now.

I lowered myself to my knees in front of him, wrapping my hand around his strengthening shaft. I teased him with the tips of my long hair, dragging it across the sensitive crown, his dick pulsed and grew harder in my hand as I stroked him.

Flicking my head back and the hair out of my eyes, I stared up at him over the helmet of his dick, loving the desire I saw in his eyes. "Really." he whispered like he was in a dream. "Mmhmm. Unless you don't want me to." I coyly answered, drawing my head back a little.

"Tell me what you want, baby." wetting my lips with the tip of my tongue, teasing him. His response was eager, "Oh...I want...you to use...your mouth." I chuckled to myself at how adorable he could be. Dirty talk was not his forte but I loved him for trying.

I could smell his arousal and it drove my desire to please him. I planted small kisses on the head of his dick, inhaling his scent. I ran my tongue along his shaft, paying attention to the ring of flesh just under his helmet, knowing it would drive him crazy. I heard him groan with pleasure and was rewarded with his precum leaking from the tip.

Fully hard now, I began stroking his shaft, smearing his fluids around to lubricate my motions. I watched it throb, felt the hot blood rushing through the veins and I could feel my labia filling with blood of its own knowing it would soon be riding this bad boy.

Looking up at him again, I opened my lips to let him enter my mouth. There was the look of hunger I had been craving, I knew tonight would be special I was convinced we'd get it done. I was going to do my part to make it happen. It's not that I hated blowjobs, I liked the power of getting my man excited, it was the bleachy taste that I didn't care for. Tonight though, I suppressed those concerns, I wanted him at his peak before I mounted him.

My lips slid over his shaft, my tongue caressing as much of it as I could reach. When the head of his dick bumped into the back of my throat, he groaned at me how good it felt, how long it had been. I renewed my efforts, bobbing up and down his shaft as he pumped his hips, losing himself in the rare gift my mouth offered. Lost in my task of pleasing him, minutes had passed before I realized his hands had grabbed the sides of my head, his fingers gripping my hair.

I was bewildered by this, he was usually gentle with me, but now he was guiding my head at a faster tempo. His need caused a thrill to spark inside me, igniting an itch in me that needed scratching. I reached down to my clit and rubbed it in a frenzy, chasing an orgasm the excitement of my husband's assertiveness was pulling from me. It was different, but it felt so terribly good to be used, I thought. I became distracted as I gave in to his taking his pleasure from my lips and tongue.

Soon his hands held me firm, clinging, like he didn't want me to escape his movements were frenzied and insistent. It wasn't until I felt his dick swelling in my mouth and heard his grunt that I realized my mistake. I tried pulling away, to prevent his release, I had other plans tonight. However his grip held me in place and he wasn't letting go until his dick erupted in my mouth, coating it in a warm salty solution and that acrid taste. "YES!" he bellowed, his semen filling my mouth, something he knew I hated, but at that moment didn't seem to care about.

When he finally released my head, I spluttered and spit out his seed, letting it spill on to his deflating dick. "Fuuuck! You were supposed to cum inside me!" I shouted at him in frustration, wiping my saliva and his semen from my lips. "I know, I'm so sorry. It's been so long...felt too good to stop." he sheepishly retorted.

"I'm fertile the last night in my cycle for the month." I mumbled at him in dismay. "I'm really sorry, what can I say?" he responded defensively. I rose up from my knees, looking down at his wilted dick, and in a stern voice said "I'm going to brush my teeth and rinse. You'd better get busy making that hard again by the time I get back." and stomped towards the bathroom.

I was furious with him for not holding back. Angry with myself for getting distracted by the new experience of him taking control like that. Then I felt ashamed for being mad, it wasn't all his fault, he didn't know the stakes at play why I was desperate for him to get me pregnant tonight.

Taking a few deep breaths to settle my emotions, I spat out the mouthwash and returned to the bedroom. As I stepped through the bathroom door, I heard him snoring. He was laying on the bed in the same position I'd left him, passed out. The wine, his release, and exhaustion had conspired to drag him into a deep slumber.

"Get up, lazy bones, you've still got a job to do." I teased, trying to wake him. He mumbled something incoherent but didn't stir.

A somberness settled over me in that moment a heavy resignation to the cards that fate had dealt me. I returned to the bathroom, getting a warm washcloth to clean him up. "Meant to be, I guess." I murmured with a sigh, rolling my husband over and gently pulling the covers up to his chin. I kissed him goodnight, my lips lingering a moment, yearning for the past.

I snuffed out the candlelight and then slipped into bed beside him. Laying my head on his chest, I stared into the inky darkness, the weight of everything pressing down on me. As I tried to sleep, I thought about how cruel life could be everything I wanted was right here, yet it seemed I couldn't have it.

My husband was contrite the next morning over breakfast, his eyes downcast as he focused on his eggs. "It's okay, my fault for getting you so excited. We'll try again next month." I offered, my words meant to soften the blow of the guilt I harbored, more than to reassure him.

I knew what I had to do but felt reluctant to move forward. I was at a crossroads. The spark we had recaptured didn't last a week before my husband seemed to grow even more gloomy. I put off what I knew was inevitable for another two weeks, throwing my energy into school and immersing myself in the unconditional love of the children at the hospital. Even on their worst days, their optimism was infectious, their laughter a balm to my conflicted heart.

It was the week of my next cycle when I finally reached out. True to his character, Martin had not pestered me or asked me when we would meet. He seemed to know the decision would be mine, and would know when I made it.

After my husband left for work, I opened the site messages.

I know it's a bit presumptuous but can you meet Friday night? I'm ready and I think you are too.

Yeah I feel the same. When and where?

Friday at 7pm - same place. I'll send an address and room number when I get there.

Looking forward to having you.

I thought I'd read his message wrong but then tried my best to not let his words excite me. I knew I would have to play the role of a cheating wife, to pretend. But I was unwavering in my goal. To keep it as clinical as possible, let him do his thing, get his seed and move on with my life. For the most part I was successful, but there were times when I caught myself speculating on what it would be like.

Friday came all too soon; along with it came a suitcase of panic, guilt, and excitement. Getting dressed I settled on a sheath dress in black simple but sexy. It was less outgoing than my usual attire, as I always wanted to look my best when going out, but I needed to keep it low key to avoid suspicion from my husband. I did give in to one guilty pleasure, styling my usual single braid into a ballerina bun, leaving a few strands to playfully hang down. The elegant structure gave me a sense of control, softened by a hint of carefree abandon.

Walking downstairs I made my excuses to my husband. The shame and guilt hidden behind the easy lie that I was headed to a girls night out. That if I got too tipsy I would spend the night with one of them.

His hug and kiss were tender, his parting words almost had me confessing my intentions, "Have fun with the girls and be safe." I didn't deserve his love or trust, not with what I was about to do. Yet, I was doing it for him. I didn't want a future without him and this was the only way I could see forward.

Later in the hotel, as I was preparing myself to accept a new man between my thighs; the desire, guilt, nervousness and fear of my secret being discovered by my husband hit me hard and gave me pause. Could I really do this? It's not too late to back out, to turn him away at the door? These feelings warred with my body's long denied physical needs and my ultimate desire to give my husband something he wanted so badly that it was destroying our marriage.

Startled by the knock, 'Too late,' I thought. My stomach a whirlwind of nervous fluttering, I did my best to compose myself as I opened the door. Martin was there, dressed in a navy blue suit and a brick-red tie that matched the warmth of his charming smile. "Well, hello beautiful," he said in his deep voice.

My mouth went dry, and my heart constricted with a final pang of guilt, but I was resolved to do this. Reaching out, I gripped his jacket tightly in my hands "I want this, more than you can imagine. I mean for you to ravish me and fill me with your cum." I said, trying to convince myself as much as him. I had shed my lingering doubts and embraced what was to come. Or so I thought at the time.

Stunned by my aggressiveness, he looked at me and then smiled "Easy, tiger, maybe we should close the door first." I watched as his eyes undressed me, and then, nervously blurted "Buckle up, cowboy, it's going to be a bumpy ride."

I let go of his jacket and turned from him, as I heard the door shut behind me. With more confidence than I felt, I winked at him from over my shoulder, walking away my hips swayed seductively. I was committed, the role of a cheating wife now mine to play. I needed the seed he could give me, and I was determined to do or say whatever it took to get it.

I waited by the bed for him "Unzip me will you? I'm rather warm all of a sudden." As his hands found the zipper at my neck, I flinched a little at his tender touch. He slowly pulled it down, inch by agonizing inch. His breath warm on my skin, spreading goosebumps across my flesh. The new sensations caused a delicious tingle in my pussy.

"You smell good." he said as he inhaled the scent of my perfume. I sighed and silently nodded yes. Despite my past reservations, I couldn't deny the effect he had on me. I was simmering with sexual tension and a passion I had not felt in years.

The dress parted down my back, the zzz sound echoing in my brain. This was it, I was exposing myself to another man. I was crossing a line I couldn't walk back from, this man was about to put a baby in me, knowing this, the word 'Angel' didn't escape my lips.

I felt his hands caress my back, leaving behind prickles of excitement where they touched. Gliding across my ribs, his hands settled on my teardrop shaped breasts. I held my breath in anticipation. His hands were gentle at first, but urgent, engulfing my small breasts. His fingers circling my hardening nipples, through the fabric of my dress, had a similar effect on my lust. "Your breasts are beautiful.”, I secretly thought They're going to get bigger once my child is growing in my belly. I melted hearing his words. I wanted his seed inside me so bad.

He let go of my breasts and moved them outwards, towards my shoulders, dragging the collar of my dress with them. Acting on instinct, my breasts arched out, chasing the loss of his warm touch. His intentions became clear and I shrugged my shoulders, allowing him to bare my body. The top of my dress bunching at my waist as it dropped.

One hand returned to caress my left breast, thumbing my nipple until it was a firm pebble begging for attention. His other hand returned to the small of my back, he flicked the zipper down, over the swell of my ass, to its end with a snap. I gasped at the unexpected pleasure this brought, so forceful and insistent, I trembled with need.

I felt my dress lose the fight with gravity as it slithered past my shapely hips, then down my legs to the floor. What he was doing was torturous. Teasing me with the slow reveal of my body, but it was also so exciting, stoking the flames of my arousal.

I heard him groan with approval when he discovered there was nothing left to remove. I was as naked as could be. "Were you a naughty girl? Was your pussy naked while you drove here?" I turned my head, biting my lip and answered "I was. It felt wicked and daring. Do you want me to be your naughty girl?" I wanted the truth of my words to excite him.

He responded by embracing me, as I stepped out of my dress. His hands clutched my naked breasts, roughly a painful pleasure I hadn't fathomed I needed. He wasn't trying to hurt me, simply demonstrating that he liked my act of naughtiness. I could feel his chest hair scraping my naked back, as he pulled me tighter to his body and gently bit into my neck. I moaned "mmhmm. Guess you like me, naughty."

I felt something else as well. The hard shaft of his warm dick, grinding into the cleft of my ass. My eyes opened wide in shock. I had checked him out at our meeting, and knew it was larger than my husband, it felt larger and thicker. but the errant thought of 'When had he gotten naked?' Focused on the new sensations, and how well he played my body, I realized I was losing time to the decadent pleasures he brought out in me.

I think I was whimpering by this point, my simmering had elevated to boiling, my muscles tightened, my breath quickened. Just as I thought I might get the long denied orgasm my body needed, his fingers left my hard nipples. I groaned in frustration, I was now in full breeding mode. I needed him inside me.

His warm breath on my ear teased. "Are you wet?" his voice rumbled "Shall we find out?"

I was SO wet, I wanted to shout at him. How was he doing this to me? This stranger I barely knew but felt such chemistry with. Was he feeling it too? Not having the confidence yet, I moaned "Please..." almost begging.

His hands moved from my breasts, his fingers lightly tracing down my ribs to my belly leaving behind jolts of luxurious pleasure. One of his hands stopped on my belly, moving in small circles, almost lovingly, before resting its warmth there. "Does it make you hot, knowing you'll be cheating on your husband?" he whispered as he nibbled on my ear. Saying this, his hips flexed upward in a gentle but firm motion, making me feel his bar of hard flesh, along the small of my back.

I hadn't considered it prior to him questioning me. It wasn't a fetish of mine, I was doing this for Me. But oh boy, when he asked, something splintered in my mind and I responded with enthusiasm, feeling a fresh rush of my juices leak down my thighs in anticipation. "Fuuuuucck! Yes, so hot!" I was trembling with need, mesmerized by this as he had barely started touching me.

I wanted to return the favor, lean into his fantasy "Does it turn you on, taking a married woman?" my voice thick as honey with lust. "Knowing my husband is home without a clue. Are you going to take me from my husband? Plant your seed in my forbidden pussy?" I don't know where the words came from but they felt so depraved, so sinfully right. Just speaking such things sent tendrils of pleasure racing throughout my body.

My words must have had the desired effect because he thrust his dick more urgently against me. I could feel a fresh trail of his precum trickle down between my cheeks. "Show me how turned on you are, how much you want my cum." His command had me sliding my hand down to my slit, surprising even me at how quick I was to obey and how drenched I was.

I toyed with my clit for a brief moment, savoring the currents of pleasure and then slowly teased my lips. Dipping two fingers past my folds, I coated them in my secretions. Scooping it up, my nectar was clear, the thick strands stretched between my fingers as I brought it to his waiting mouth behind me. Spreading my honey across his lips, he moaned in approval, his tongue danced out licking my fingers until satisfied he'd gotten every last bit.

"Mmmm, good girl, you taste so sweet. You're fertile right now aren't you?" Shakily I tried to resist answering, but then I gave him a guilty nod and he continued, "You do like it risky don't you? I could always put a condom on." In the silence of my mind I yelled NO CONDOM. My anxiety threatened to dampen my arousal. When he didn't act on his question, my body relaxed, he was teasing me again. I used every ounce of charm I had to seductively say, "Please don't, I need to feel you raw and cum inside me."

By this point, my knees were weak, the excitement coursing through me was overwhelming. Thoughts of my vows were tucked deep down and out of sight. My body had been denied this far too long, I needed him inside me. "Martin, I can't stand it any longer. Fuck me!" I begged him.

"No..." His denial short circuited my brain, my lips opened and closed but words wouldn't come out. His rejection caught me completely off guard. My fears surged back  all my efforts, my broken vows, and nothing to show for it. I trembled, my body betraying the outburst of emotions, as tears threatened to spill.

"Not yet. I came straight from work. I need a shower." Martin smiled in a knowing way. "Be a good girl and get on the bed. Play with yourself but don't you dare cum." Relief flooded through me, I was so thankful, I obeyed his command instantly. I wasn't a natural submissive, but at that moment I would have done anything he said to have him inside me.

I climbed on the bed, turning over on my back and resting my head against the pillows. The coolness of the crisp sheets contrasted with the heat of my body. I gently teased my pussy, following his directive. I almost gave in to temptation, I had been so close, it wouldn't take much to send me over the edge. However I held back, I couldn't define why, but I didn't want to disappoint him. He moved to the bathroom, and I heard the shower turn on. An excruciating 10 mins followed, I was definitely a hot mess.

Waiting for his return, I reflected on everything that happened in the last half hour. I was amazed at the speed he had my motor purring. Naively, I clung to the rationalization that I had expected less passion. That this would be more mechanical in nature, something I had to do but would suppress my pleasure. How wrong I was, my roleplay was quickly turning to reality. With simple acts and a few choice words, Martin had my body buzzing. The sexual energy building within me was like a live electrical wire I was ready to snap, crackle and pop.

I heard the shower turn off then a bit of silence, as I obeyed his instructions and played with my clit. I didn't know it at the time but he was leaving me a gift at that very moment, one I would treasure almost as much as the salvation of my marriage, his seed would provide.

He emerged from the shower, standing in the doorway. I was shocked at how hard he was, both pleased that I could turn him on that much and afraid of how imposing it looked. His dick, no...his cock was not massive like I said, larger than my husband, I just needed him inside me raw my pussy was now like a river. He was certainly larger than my husband. I measured it with my eyes and thought it was 6" and thick and curved like a banana. I was sure it would hit my spot. 

I was glued to its hard shape as it stood solid and close to his body, the blood pumping through its veined surface evidence of his lust. He must have seen the equal measure of fear and arousal in my eyes, "Don't worry, I'll take it nice and slow...this time." with a cheeky grin.

'First time...' I had this brief thought before his commanding tone interrupted my reverie. "Stop touching yourself." He was now standing next to the bed, so close I could touch him. He was stroking his hard cock, forcing seminal fluid to bubble to the surface of his fat knob. I watched as it gathered, beading on the tip and threatened to drip onto the bed. My mouth watered and I found myself wanting to catch it with my tongue to taste him. I stopped short of acting on that thought. What was wrong with me, cum tasted nasty! I didn't want that in my mouth did I?

He pulled away from me, removing the temptation. "I'll bet you're dripping. Do you want this?" he said, waving his cock in my direction. I bit my bottom lip as I looked at him and slowly nodded my head. "Be naughty for me, spread your legs wide. Show me how much you want it."

I stared at him, moaning through quivering lips. I grabbed the back of my knees and pulled them towards the headboard behind me, making a presentation of revealing my pussy to him. It felt like I was baring my soul to this stranger, the only other man to have seen it. But deep down; I wanted him to see it, to know that I was dripping for him, eager to have him mount me, to be inside of me, to fuck and breed me.

The bed shifted with his weight, as he maneuvered to face me. His hungry eyes never wavered from the lust he saw in mine, as he lowered his head to my pussy. Anticipating what his tongue would feel like, I longed for him to bury it inside me. Again he stopped short, planting little kisses on my thighs. Taunting me as his raspy tongue swiped liquid fire along the creases where my hips merged with my thighs. He was driving me crazy with desire, I was teetering on the edge of a melt down and then he backed off.

"Damn it Martin! Stop teasing me. Please, I need it." I whimpered at him.

But he waited, letting my arousal simmer. I was so frustrated with him, I tried bucking my hips at him, seeking to get his tongue, his cock, anything inside of me. I was so close to finalizing this wicked plan of mine. With a cocky grin he sternly said "Not yet. Be a good girl and wait." I groaned my disapproval but obeyed. Here I thought that I was playing the role of a wanton seducer and yet somehow he knew what I needed better than I did.

After he felt I was ready, he walked up the bed on his knees and settled his hips against my mound. He replaced my hands with his, holding my legs for support and nestled his cock between my pussy lips. He sawed his thick cock between my wet folds. His motions imitated fucking me, coating his cock with my juices, but he didn't let it enter my slit. His flared knob bumped against my clit, delivering bolts of pure pleasure directly to my brain.

At first he was gentle but he became rougher, grinding harder into me. The friction was deliciously sinful and I was soon on the crest of what I knew would be a big one. "Please put it in me. Before I cum" I whined at him. He ignored me and kept up the tempo and pressure, it went on for what seemed forever and then he stopped again. Bastard I thought to myself I was so close.

A flash of irritation danced within my eyes, my lust cooling slightly, enough so that I considered kicking him out of the room. Then it clicked he wasn't being cruel, his actions were a kindness; pushing my limits of excitement, wanting me at my peak, well lubricated when he took me with his hard cock.

As if sensing my thoughts, knowing something I didn't. "You're holding back. Tell me what you need!" he growled at me.

He was patient, waiting, as I turned his statement over in my mind, I knew he was right. Some vestige of the faithful wife was desperately trying to deny my orgasm, wanting to save some shred of dignity, saving something for my loving husband. I'm not sure why I thought that I could receive Martin's seed and yet allow only my husband to give me an orgasm.

He watched me struggle with my inner conflict, waiting for my resolution and acceptance. I had been horny and on edge for close to an hour at this point he knew and now I knew the sacrifice needed. So when his cock finally parted the folds of my pussy with its fathead, his hot flesh searing the nerves around my entrance, pushing me beyond my wildest imaginations I let go.

I let everything fall away as I screamed "OOOhhhh my gahhd, yessss! I need you to take my married pussy! Fill me with your cum and BREED ME!" The orgasm that followed my treacherous words ripped through me like a car crash at high speed, bouncing off every nerve in my body. My muscles contracted, my back arched off the bed and the 1st time ever I squirted, my eyes rolled to the back of my head and I must have blacked out.

When I returned to the living, I could feel the sheets clenched in my fingers. My eyes fluttered open and I said, "Oh fuck. That was...I came so hard." I couldn't believe nor describe how good it felt after having gone so long without.

I noticed he hadn't moved, he waited for me to catch my breath. His fat knob resting on the other side of my stretched and convulsing entrance, enjoying the contractions of my post orgasm. "Welcome back." he chuckled playfully "Now that we know what you need, let's plant my seed in your womb."

He leaned against my legs, my heels rested along his shoulders, pressing them against my breasts as he hovered above me. He pushed his cock forward, slowly at first, struggling to fully enter me. "Damn, feels like a vice, a soft buttery one, but fuck." Grunting as he forced my inner walls to accept his cock.

"Ugh, oof. Wait...slow down. Give me a minute to adjust." I rasped at him, pressing my hands against his chest as I tried to breathe. Short shallow gasps escaped as I grew accustomed to My throbbing hole and his girth. I could tell he fought his primal need to drive deeper into me, but he eventually paused his invasion. 

During the brief respite, I enjoyed some amount of pride in that he was pleased by my tight pussy, that I could drive him crazy with the need to be deep inside me. Then my mind focused on his veiny shaft, which pulsed within me and sent tingles radiating up my canal and out in waves of pleasure.

Satisfied he had waited long enough, Martin pushed deeper into me and he built to a steady rhythm of plunging in and out of my wet pussy. My mind was blown by the new sensations he caused. He was reaching places that had never been touched and I was ashamed at how much I wanted to be touched like that, repeatedly. Claiming me the way my husband would never be able to, I felt guiltily and slutty with this new cock inside me.

The friction of his thrusts rubbed me the right way and I let him know it. "Ahhh, fuck It feels so different." It was painful, but a delicious pain and I wanted more. "Bigger than your husband then?" Martin huffed above me. Not mocking, stating a fact we both knew to be true. Without thinking of how it diminished my husband, I nodded my head with excited vigor, "Mmmhmm and...uhng...thicker."

My admission seemed to please him, causing an urgency in his thrusting "Are you my good girl?" OMG I wanted more, I marveled. His words fed my desire to feel all of him and I bucked my hips against him. "Fuck yes, Martin! Please...I want it all." I groaned at him as he drove into me, his cock kissing my cervix and his cum filled balls smashing against my ass.

WTF, why did I want to call him daddy? I didn't even use that word with my husband. Ironically I guess it was appropriate since he was going to father my child. Those thoughts drifted from my brain, like it or not our dirty talk and his deep strokes had me working towards my next explosive orgasm.

"Damn, you feel wonderful wrapped around my cock." he panted as he continued to grind into my pussy. 'Fuck yes' I beamed with pride but silently just thrust back and him. "You like this don't you, cheating? Been needing this for a while haven't you?" His voice had an edge to it, like he wanted to say more but held back.

His pace slowed to a more gentle rhythm as he asked, "Sure you want this to be a one time thing?" He pulled out of me at a slow pace, grabbed his shaft and flicked his head over my clit, making me feel the texture of his cock and then jammed it back inside with a hard thrust to punctuate his question.

His questions were probing again, trying to learn my secret, but even in my lust-addled mind, I lied. "I can't help it, just the fantasy of being pregnant with another man's child when my husband doesn't suspect it. It turns me on, it's so taboo and makes me wet and feel so wicked." It wasn't true of course, but I was hoping it would fuel his fantasy to provide the seed I wanted.

"I love feeling hot cum splashing against my cervix. Knowing, even on birth control, there's still a risk it could happen." I moaned as he pushed into me harder, and his pace quickened. Something about saying the lies out loud lit a fuse inside me "Now be a good daddy. Fuck me hard and fast. Put a baby in my womb." I shouted out the last of that because damn if my own half-truths hadn't brought me to the edge of divine pleasure only needing his warm seed to push me over the edge.

I could tell he was getting close too; his movements were getting faster, his cock hammering into my pussy roughly. Normally I like it gentle and tender, but with the cocktail of emotions swirling around in my head, it didn't matter. I wanted him to use me, to use my body for his pleasure, I'd deal with the consequences later.

I was shrieking my need by the time he was ready. "Laura, are you ready?" he brought his head within inches of mine, staring into my eyes, his cock banging away mercilessly. His manly scent, a combination of sexual sweat and cologne increased my desire to please him. "Give it to me daddy." I whimpered, grabbing my breasts and tweaking my nipples for that extra bit of pleasure. "Give you what, Laura? Tell me again what you need," he huffed, trying hard to contain his release.

"Breed me Martin. Make me a MOMMY." I loudly begged him, my pussy stroking his cock with each of his labored thrusts. Doing its best to milk the seed I craved. "Cum in my married pussy. I want to feel your child growing in my womb."

He groaned, "Good girl." savagely thrusting inside me to the hilt "Oh fuck, I'm cumming. Take my seed." he roared his eruption, growling in a primal fury as he locked eyes with me. "I want it...ohhh, Fuucck, YES!" I wailed as I felt his powerful streams of cum detonate against my cervix, his seed pulsed within me and bathed my pussy. My own orgasm rocketed through me with such ferocity that I white stars seared my vision and then faded to black once more.

When I opened my eyes, Martin was resting on top of me, his head buried in my neck. My arms wrapped around his chest as we caught our breath and basked in the euphoria of our sexual union. As the fog of lust was lifting from me, I heard him mumble something so faint, I wasn't sure I heard him correctly "One day...I want all of you."

It must have been ages since he'd been with a woman, I thought, there's so much of it. As my senses returned to me, I could feel his thick cum leak out from around his still semi-hard cock, as if it didn't want to release its claim on my abused pussy. With the warm afterglow of serotonin pumping through my veins, I have to be pregnant, I lazily thought, if not then all of this was for...

Then reality hit, and the tears started sliding down my face, tears of hopeful joy for sure, but also some of regret. When he felt them, his expression softened as he lifted his head, his eyes searching mine. "Breathe. You're gonna be okay." he said tenderly, and kissed my forehead. It wasn't until that moment that several truths became clear to me.

We had coupled for several hours, yet he hadn't gone down on me, hadn't worshipped my breasts with his tongue, nor had he tried to kiss me. I hadn't told him he couldn't do those things but it was like he knew it was a line we shouldn't cross as a final gesture of respect.

I had hinted earlier he could have stayed for more, thinking more attempts better odds. I could see the struggle within him, of wanting to take me up on that offer. Instead, he lifted off of me, placed a pillow under my hips and then covered my nakedness with a sheet. He went to the bathroom and I watched through the open door as he cleaned himself. Gathering his clothes from the floor, he dressed while smiling down at me. Martin walked over to the door, turned and simply said "I'm glad we met Laura. Be safe on the way home." Then he left my life never to be seen again.

My tears had turned into sobs once the door clicked shut. The guilt, remorse, the knowledge I had been unfaithful and it had been the best sex I had ever experienced. My broken vows and the knowledge I had enjoyed it, shattered me. I cried until there were no more tears left. Even in my distressed state I kept my hips elevated, I wasn't wasting this opportunity. I hoped this worked, because I knew I couldn't do it again. Even though the temptation was too strong, it would break me emotionally.

As I laid there hoping his sperm would do its job and find my egg, I collected myself and wondered how I could face my husband after what I'd done? How could I lie to him and say the child was his? If he ever found out how could I tell him I did it because I loved him so much. That I had cheated so that he could have the child he always wanted. So that I could have the man I loved returned to me.

With great sadness, I knew the one person who could help me answer these questions was the one person I could never tell.

I had meant to get up and return home, but I was so exhausted from the physical pounding my body had taken and the emotional stress. Instead, I curled into a fetal position and passed out. The next morning I woke to shafts of sunlight piercing the gaps in the curtains. I got out of bed to clean up and take a shower. I almost started crying all over again when I found the note Martin had placed on the bathroom sink. He had written it on the back of one of his business cards. It dawned on me he had left it prior to mating with me.

I wanted to take this moment to say thank you. You've awakened in me feelings that have lain dormant since the passing of my wife. You've shown me that I do want to learn to love again. To get out there and find, if not you, then someone to share it with:

I hope the seed I've planted will bring you and your husband all the joy you deserve.

- Martin

His final act of kindness lingered with me, a comforting presence on the long, quiet trip home. It made sense to me now; he had known what I was doing. Here I was wanting something from him and yet I had given him something in exchange. It made me feel a little better.

I cant thank you enough, we were successful. I learned a few weeks later I was pregnant and my husband was overjoyed that we had beaten the odds. If only he knew that I had rigged the game. Would he feel the same? Nine months later we had a little baby boy. We named him after my husband, but I insisted his middle name would be Martin. It was another secret I kept from my husband, my silent thank you to the man that had saved my marriage.