Locked In The Vault

I've been with my wife for going on 15 years now. The five years or so before meeting her I lived a wild life (making up for a lot of lost time when I was terrified of women).

I used to spend time at night going through the Casual Encounters section on Craigslist (when that was still a thing) and met a few ladies there for occasional hookups. These women were almost always married. I didn't care since I was looking for anything long-term and neither were they. As a result, I had some great times. That is how I met Joan.

At the time, I was in my early 30s and she was 28. It was the standard wife in a rut looking to try a black guy on the side to see what it was like. A sexually indifferent husband also unconsciously nudged her in that direction. As I said there was no chance of having her permanently for myself so why not?

After sifting through what was undoubtedly numerous replies she got to me after a couple of days. We emailed back and forth a bit and then agreed to meet for a drink. We clicked and about a week later she said she was ready to take the next step and we set up a day and time for her to come to my apartment at the time and we did what came naturally. She was fantastic of course, a lot of pent-up energy that she let out during our encounters. She is a cyclist and had a tight toned body to match. I loved every second of the three months or so that we did this. She indulged my obsession with ladies' panties and I would do whatever she wanted to try so it was a win-win for both of us.

We never talked about our personal lives since neither of us considered it relevant and it was probably best that we didn't get too close. The relationship would have ended at some time anyway. I knew her husband's first name (Doug) and that was about it.

Anyway, I met my now wife a year later and we dated for a few weeks and it's going great. She had talked about her family and her sister but it never clicked that the Joan she was talking about was the same Joan I had done some crazy stuff with a while back. Joan and her husband were having a cookout and that would be a great time to finally meet someone in her family. We picked up a twelve-pack of beer and headed over. I was walking through the front door when I came face-to-face with my former fuckbuddy.

She had total shock on her face but snapped out of it and we both put up this charade of acting as though we were meeting for the first time. I meet her husband too and yeah he turned out to be a really conservative, buttoned-up type of person so I got why she might be tempted to stray a little.

I end up marrying Joan's sister after about three years of dating. I'm not the best of friends with her husband but the four of us go on long bike rides (some taking a few days) so we have spent plenty of time together. All these years later Joan and I have only talked about it on two occasions. The first when we agreed to never tell a soul what we had done and this past year when we spent an afternoon together at of all things a church function. I asked her if she had done what we did with anyone and she admitted to two others. She pulls it off so well that my wife thinks Joan is a prude (her exact words). I just let that comment go right on by.

My intense attraction to her never really subsided. I remember the things we did together and it takes me somewhere mentally. The sound of her voice gets me hard and those swimsuit bottoms throw me back into my panty fetish. Every time we parted as a group to go home, Joan always hugs me and I have to make sure its not too close of a hug or she could feel I was excited. I often wonder if my wife has ever realized that after we visit her sister I take her back home and go to town on her. Yeah, I'm turned on but because I saw Joan on her hands and knees pulling weeds in her garden and I can't get that ass out of my head. I've done my wife doggy style plenty of times but every time I do I think of Joan's ass. I've lost count of how many times I've jerked off thinking about her and the noises she makes when she cums.

I know it can't ever happen again and don't want it to. Still I have a headful of great memories and thats enough. It has to be.