Cheating Blow Job

I'm older now. Still happily married after 26 years. I haven't cheated in almost five years. For a long time I was a a serial cheater. I felt tremendous guilt the first few times then gradually my only worry was getting caught. A friend convinced me early on not to confess, ever, and taught me how to be careful, and how good a little side action now and again can be for your mental health and the happiness of your marriage. I mean I needed it so I bought in and still do. If I wasn't a cheater all those years my husband and I wouldn't have made it this far. I'm no hypocrite, I've suspected him of affairs in the recent past and have not accused, have not pried, nor even tried to confirm. I've purposely looked away even though it hurts. I believe that he never cheated until recently, ironically after I've lost interest in affairs and hook-ups was when he seems to have felt the need to do so himself. I will stay out of his way. If he ever suspected me he left me too it so I'll do the same.

Having introduced myself, I do think back to quite a few occasions with fondness, some make me think of straying again and others disgust me. This memory brings back how adventurous I was in my mid-thirties. I was 37 and my work hired a young black guy (23) who was attractive and who came onto to me almost as soon as he was hired. At the time I had been avoiding work complications for awhile but he intrigued me. He was young, aggressive and black. Three very attractive qualities and three I hadn't yet experienced in combination.

After weeks of his positioning, I agreed to meet up "just to see how it plays out." Typically for me that meant fucking. He talked me into going for a walk on our lunch break to talk. We went to a trail not far from work that others use during lunch. It was cold and no one was there that day. I arrived horny and ready to go. I was hoping we'd work out an after work fuck spot or just fuck in his car right there (it works).

He got there, and wanted to take a walk. As we walked, I noticed he'd changed his tune. All of a sudden he wasn't so confident, not so aggressive, making comments about maybe being careful, and worrying about my husband. I realized that he had been all talk.

Well I don't just make talk. When I say I'm interested I'm interested and ready. So we got to a spot where you can sit on an old fallen log. Someone have cut it at some point so it was like a wide bench. We sat. I became the aggressive one and despite his hesitation and his trying to put me off, I got my hands on his crotch, I rubbed and squeezed til he relaxed enough to let me use my fingers to massage and please his hard dick. He liked it a lot although still obviously nervous.

I pushed him back til he laying down, I swung his leg over the tree bench and unzipped him. He sat up like "wait someone might see." I pushed him back down hard and told him to be quiet and to be a man. He lay there still and nervous while I did the work and got his dick out of his pants. He had a nice dick. I was very schooled by that point in my life in the art of sucking dick and I did my best to make him feel as good as I possibly could. His body language told the story as I used technique to bring him close then let him subside, then brought him back again, trying to prolong his pleasure. After about fifteen minutes I figured we had to go back to work. I focused on his cock head, after a minute he was ready to cum. He told me, actually warned me. He was worried about pissing me off if he came in my mouth lol. I quickly said "just fucking cum." and went back to work. A minute later he filled my mouth with cum. I sucked the head so hard while he was coming his whole body quivered. I loved it.

That was it for the two of us. He still flirted after but never like before. I never waste time on guys who weren't actually going to fuck. I would have loved to have fucked that guy silly but hey we were work friends who shared a sexy memory. I found plenty of other men along the way who wanted to fuck for real so it wasn't my loss. It was his.

Bye!