Robin and her husband Sam moved down the street nine years ago. Al and I met them at a neighborhood barbecue within a few weeks of their arrival. Robin and I quickly became friends, and I soon found myself talking to her about things that I’d only ever discussed with my husband. She felt more like a sister than a friend.
The one topic we rarely discussed was sex. We skirted the issue until last winter. We were sitting by the fireplace sipping wine while our husbands were out hunting when Robin mentioned that she’d recently cheated on Sam. I almost choked when she announced that she’d had a fling while her husband was away on a business trip. I didn’t want to ask her to give me details, but she told me all about her hookup with a coworker.
Four months after Robin told me about her affair, she dropped another bombshell: she hadn’t used birth control since she got married because Sam had had a vasectomy, but she was pregnant with her coworker’s child. It wasn’t long before she and Sam got a divorce. While she married her coworker and moved away, Sam hung out at our place feeling sorry for himself.
I was quite nervous as I drove out to meet a longtime friend of my husband’s, as I was meeting him without my husband’s knowledge. Jackson had been living out of the area for more than two years, and he’d called me asking if I could meet him for lunch to talk about something important.
When I arrived at the bar, I looked around, expecting him to already be there, but I didn’t spot him, so I called his cellphone. He said he didn’t want to risk us being seen in public together, so he wanted me to come to his motel room. I told him that being seen going into a motel room with him was even worse than being seen at a bar together, but he insisted that he had to talk to me in private, so I got his room number and walked across the street to the motel to meet him.
I was really nervous by the time I finally reached his room, and I knocked softly on the door, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear me. I wasn’t quiet enough, though, and he answered the door immediately. I stepped past him quickly and rushed to take a seat in the desk chair, keeping my skirt down as I crossed my legs. He came right over to me as I sat and leaned down to kiss my cheek, asking why I seemed unhappy to see him.
I’m a 46-year-old businessman, married with two kids. I run a small business with only about a dozen employees, one of whom is my secretary and bookkeeper, Keri. Keri is 44, married with three kids and, according to her, has a boring home life.
Keri has long brown hair, which she normally keeps pinned up, beautiful blue-green eyes and, from what I can tell, a nice figure. The guys in the office always flirt with her, but I don’t know if any of their efforts have paid off and led to anything more.
Keri has worked for me for almost six years now. She always wears conservative clothing; her skirts are all knee-length or longer, and she always pairs them with opaque pantyhose.
One day Keri and I were talking and she told me that she didn’t like wearing panties with her pantyhose. It was the most unprofessional thing she’d ever said, and it surprised me. But I was feeling rather naughty myself, and I told her that I didn’t believe her. She was feeling friskier than I thought, and she quickly pulled up her skirt, showing me a pair of light-colored pantyhose. Then she spread her legs to show me the reinforced crotch, her dark pubic hair visible through the thick nylon.
“What did I tell you?” she asked.
Lisa and I had taken the kids to her mother’s for the weekend and were planning an agenda for Saturday when we passed one of our old watering holes. We hadn’t been inside since before we were married, and we agreed that it might be fun to see if any of the old gang were around. The crowd had changed drastically in the six years since our last visit, and we were about to leave when someone called my name. I turned to see an old buddy of mine, Jake, along with his wife Sarah sitting at one of the tables.
It just so happens that I’d had a huge crush on Sarah when I was a senior, but since she was only a freshman, our paths never really crossed. It was good to see her, though—I mean them. Lisa and I joined them at their table, and the drinks came fast and furious as we reminisced about the good old days. When the band started playing a slow song, Jake asked Lisa if she wanted to dance, and she accepted. I felt a twinge of jealousy as I watched the two of them together, my wife’s tall, lean body leaning against his large, solid frame as they swayed to the music. It didn’t last very long, though, as Sarah grabbed my hand and led me onto the dance floor. We danced a couple more tunes, and as we returned to the table, I noticed Lisa’s face was a bright shade of red. Jake had stirred the fires inside her, causing her to heat up. It was evident she was flustered.
I’d been away from home for two days for what I’d told my wife would be a three-day business trip. I knew I could finish all my work in two days, but that’s not what I told my wife. My reason for lying to her wasn’t what you’d think, though. My guess is that most men would do it so they’d be able to return early to see if their wife was cheating on them. My reason was just the opposite—or, it was the same, but with a twist.
I know my wife frequently screws other men because she always tells me about it. Recently, I discovered that there’s a spot in the loft of our garage that lets me see into the bedroom without having anyone in the bedroom see me. I hadn’t been looking for a hiding place, but while I was up in the loft, I happened to catch my wife in bed with one of my friends, and I wanted to see her in action again. Only this time, I’d be able to hear as well as see, as I’d put in a high-quality intercom. When I had it installed, I told Karen it was so she could find out who was at the door without running downstairs, and we could also talk between the kitchen and bedroom without yelling. She loved the idea, and she was always showing off the intercom when friends came over.