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I am writing this blog inspired by another blog but one that I did not want to respond to directly as I do not want to cause offence against anyone. However it is something I feel very strongly about due to personal experience. Forgive me if this is a very long blog.
I came to the UK to study at university. My English was very basic and I had to improve fast (I can actually write well now if I concentrate but I am lazy on the internet!).
I had a private language tutor to help me. At first I didn't even like him! I thought he gave me too much work and I also thought he was far too silly to be a good teacher. However soon I began to feel differently. I knew he was married and that he had children but I put it to the back of my mind like it wasn't real. It was more shyness than his marital status that stopped me from saying anything to him. We became very good friends but keep things strictly teacher and pupil even though it was clear we both had feelings. I suppose we were both in love with each other long before we let each other know. Even after all these years my eyes have tears in them right now!
I was only 19 and it was the first time I had really loved anyone. I was always smart and cynical, I really didn't know why my whole world changed just to hear him speak or sit beside me. I tried to fight the feeling but eventually I gave up, I loved him, head over heels love. I didn't say anything but we came closer slowly, going for out for something to eat, or going to the park to have our lessons spread out on the grass with picnics. Not once did we touch, I know he was frightened to start something with me because of his marriage and I was frightened in case he rejected me and ended our lessons.
At Christmas time he invited me to a party that was in a wine bar. It was an office party but he did not like anyone there and said I would be someone to talk with if I came along. I went to the place independently and eventually he left the group and we talked in an out of the way place of the bar, a staircase that went to the cellar. We sat on the steps and leaned against him and said "I love you". We kissed and caressed and that was the start of our relationship.
Already this blog is so long no one will be reading but at the beginning I was so happy. I loved him with all my heart as I still do. When it became a physical relationship I actually thought that as long as I saw him I would be elated and nothing else mattered. His marriage was just something he had told me about but it was just words to me and had no substance like a mirage. I was so happy to see him every couple of days but soon it was not enough.
After about 6 months things changed. The reality of the situation suddenly began to become apparent. I only saw him a few times a week for 2 hours at a time guarenteed and sometimes other times. I was so miserable when he was not with me. It took so much effort to arrange time together out with lessons and we could not even be intimate in public in case someone saw us. It sounds trivial but to want to hold the hand of the love of your life and then think "I can't, we are in public" is a horrible thing. You will not really understand. We both really loved each other but we never talked about what we were doing, we just tried to be as happy as possible in each others company and talking is something we should have done.
The pressure began to build up. Not being able to contact him was difficult. He left my bed to go home to his family and that is such a lonely feeling. Then by accident I saw him with his wife and family with another couple in the city. It was so upsetting to see him with someone else but it was also a reality check. His wife and family were actually real people, how stupid could I be not to even think before then! I felt so guilty, I was ashamed of myself and yet I wanted to be with him more than anything else. He was such a kind and decent man, I knew he would never leave his family even though he loved me and I knew my only chance of happiness was to be a family wrecker. What did I have to do but pressure him to leave his family, to tear his world apart, his wifes, his childrens. How could I do such a thing!? It was even worse as my father had many affairs and treated my mother terribly. Now I was doing something just as bad.
One day I was getting a very busy bus home and everything in my head became too much. I had cried privately many times but this time I burst into tears in front of all the passengers on the bus. I was humilated. A kind old lady asked if I was OK. I could not tell the truth so I said someone had died. It seemed to show my whole life was a lie and I could not go on and had to end my relationship with my love. I was so exhausted I had no choice and I knew even though I loved him so much I was no longer happy, in fact very, very sad.
When I told him it was the only argument we ever had. He was very upset and left me there and then. I did not see him again for a week or so, which was a very difficult time I did not want us to end on a feud, but eventually we saw each other again. We agreed to end the relationship on a certain date, the last friday of the month. Things were happier again for that time as we enjoyed our last moments. I will never forget the last time we were together, we embraced at a street corner having been to a restaurant and it was over.
At first I felt relief but soon I missed him so much, more than ever. If things had been bad then they got so much worse. I wanted to contact him and say "I want you back, I will do anything!". I was very, very depressed for more than two years. I took too many drugs and did other stupid things but it was the only way I could forget my pain. I felt like I had lost a partner of a whole life time not just a little over a year. Sometimes I would go to the area he lived just to maybe see him at the shops or on the street or driving past. I never saw him once. It broke my heart every time. It took many years for me to feel well again.
So this is my experience of having an affair. It is not sexy or fun but the truth as it happened to me. It was something I could and should never have got involved in. Yet even though the result was so much suffering I cannot say I wish I had not met him, as he is the best man I have ever met. We are still in contact, we write once a year, but I have not seen him for 7 years. That said the overall effect was devastating for myself. If you have read this far and you are thinking of having an affair or such a situation arises in the future please think about my post. How much pain my decision cost me and to him, and how much more pain it could have caused so many other innocent people.
Thank you for reading my story.
Imagine if I came up with a kinky dare with my partner.
The dare would be this. Drive to a place no one knows me and which is quiet at night.
My partner waits in the car while I walk up and down the street.
I am dressed in heels and a mini skirt.
Now here is the dare. As soon as a man on his own comes along, no matter who it is, I must do this.
Approach the man and say "excuse me!". When I have his attention I pull my panties down, take them off and hand them to him saying "I want you to have these".
Not knowing what his reaction would be exciting, it could vary tremendously depending on the person from being very aroused and making an advance, to not knowing quite what to do, to being disgusted and insulted.
Then I wiggle up the street in my mini skirt (and no panties!) to where my partner is waiting in the car and we drive off.
I think this would be very exciting and fun! I really want to do this! Maybe I will mention it to Mr. Minsk one of these days...
Right now I am lying in bed warm under the sheets. The soles of my feet are pressed together so my legs are open in a diamond shape. My left hand has slid under the elastic of my pink lace trim panties and I am rubbing and tickling my clit. The nipples of my small breasts are hard, the lips of my willing mouth parted. I am waiting for my man.
My boyfriend lives in a different city and works long hours. I also work long hours and we often only see one another for one day and one night a week. I have been promiscuous and emotionally hard with others in the past but now I am hopelessly in love with someone.
With so few opportunities to see each other so much sexual feeling builds up and has only a short time to be released. When he arrives he will be desperate for sex and so will I. I will rush to the front door and smother him in hugs and kisses, we will come inside and kiss more passionately and he will run his hands over my body. Oh! To even think about it drives me wild! I will descend his body, pull his belt off and his zip down with my teeth and impale my mouth with his excited manhood. I will suck my honey off against the front door to show how much I have missed him. To taste him, feel him, to pleasure him will be a paradise.
We will fuck all Saturday night and Sunday morning, I will love to hug and caresses him while he recovers his powers as much as the sex itself. In the afternoon we will go out to the cinema, a restaurant, go to the pub or for a walk, spend blissful moments together and then I will have to goodbye to my baby for another week.
I cry a little and feel empty for a while but I know it is not the last time and that a week later I will be in this same position, rubbing my pussy, feeling the pure pleasure and warmth that is a pale imitation of being with him, a few short hours from now.