Awwardly Drifting Into an Affair

Brent Blake is a happily married man, both proud and satisfied with his wife of four years and she indicates satisfaction with him. But is she proud of him? He suspects not; she's given him the impression she'd married less than top shelf – or beneath herself as it used to be called.

That's why Brent Blake considers himself a happily married man without indicating he's in love with his wife. It's difficult to love someone you suspect doesn't really love you.

Wife Rachel is a librarian and wears glasses when with her books. That's the signal when she's home looking severe with the glasses indicating the do-not-disturb sign is out. Brent finds that rather boring and had come to believe this 'intellectual cloak' makes Rachel appear she's ageing ahead of time.

Rachel is twenty-nine.

So, is Brent exciting? Good question because even he doesn't think so. The thirty year old is an accountant; has there ever been an exciting accountant on the Planet?

Even so, there remains a youthful spark in Brent so he's not necessarily finished appeasing his libido. In other words, Brent is what sociologists call, "Prime material to sink into an affair – the word 'sink' used to inject a moral overtone of disapproval.

Brent, bless him, has no idea he's a prime candidate for falling right of centre, sexually speaking. The truth is he'd find such an assertion 'preposterous' – a word belonging to his father's era. All in all, chances of Brent getting a bit on the side to lift his pulse rate and change his vision of life into Technicolor look less than promising. On the other hand – who knows?

Brent Black, financial controller at Bing, Phillips & Watership Ltd, exporters of processed sheep skins to the world from its factory just north of Auckland, New Zealand, left his office with his eighty year old personal assistant (fifty-three actually) and they parted in the parking lot - his PA walking across it to catch a bus home and Brent to his pride and joy, a ten-year old American Ford Mustang. Oh yes, the zeal of youth still runs deep within Brent.

Rachel was guest speaker at a book club so Brent felt aimless so drove aimlessly and almost ran down a woman running across the road to a bar in downtown Orewa; in truth Orewa is a seaside village but it does have bars.

The thirty-something froze, awaiting her death. Brent chopped down to 1st gear and stood on the brakes. She looked at him petrified; he looked at her and thought, Oh my, I wonder what she'd like in bed?

Seconds later she was at the driver's window, so he wound it down.

"You crazy driver, you should be banned from driving, your car turned into scrap and the Court impose a sentence of making you spend 2000 hours painting pedestrian crossings."

"That's length of time seems a bit excessive," Brent scowled.

"I beg you pardon?" said madam.

"There's no pedestrian safety crossing here."

The woman's face darkened, she raised an accusatory finger to point to the said pedestrian crossing only to see no evidence of one.

"Oh, for goodness sake; there is no safety crossing. My mistake and I'm terribly sorry for bawling you out. How you managed to stop I'll never know."

"That's okay, ma'am. I apologize for upsetting your dignity. Forever walk across streets in peace. Vehicles behind me are becoming agitated so I'd better move on."

"Please allow me to buy you a drink."

"I'm not sure I'm permitted to drink with a nubile woman."

"I'm a little older than you, married and anyway am offering only a drink. Oh, what am I saying?"

"Well, okay, Brent said magnanimously. "Just the drink will suffice."

She blushed and said Jake's Bar. Bret drove till he found a parking space.

"Hi, I'm Tracy Ball," she said, extending a hand elegantly.

He kissed it.

She blushed and looked confused.

"Hi, I'm Brent Blake, happy to have saved your life. You look so grateful."

"Yes, I am. But Brent Black seems an unlikely name. Are you expecting some kind of liaison as a gratuity?"

"I don't think so. I'm not sure I'd know how to handle it."

"It?"

"A non-momentary gratuity."

"Ohmigod, you're meaning my body, don't you?"

"I wasn't aware of your body and I must say I'm not in the habit of sharing mine with women with a tendency to risk hurling themselves under cars in desperation to get to a bar."

She ignored that, instead saying, "You're married aren't you?"

"Yes."

"So you have affairs with women who don't risk hurling themselves under cars?"

"No, I've never had an extra-marital affair. I'm not even sure I have the stomach for it."

Tracy looked at him speculatively. "Then why are we talking sex?"

"I'm not."

"Nor am I," Tracy said, "so one of us must be."

Brent shook his head as if clearing his mind. "Please allow me to take this from another tangent. Are you married?"

"Yes, five years."

"Do you have affairs?"

"No."

"Are you thinking about having an affair?"

At that Tracy's face turned pink.

"I rest my case."

Tracy lowered her head and said she didn't know how to start the ball rolling.

"Do you have a lovely body?"

Appalled, Tracy placed her arms across her breasts and pulled her shoulders inwards.

"Well?"

"I shouldn't answer such an outrageous question."

"But you will?"

"I believe I have a beautiful body and it responds to appreciation and likes being stroked and breathed in by hot breath."

"Ohmidgod."

"Pardon me?"

"Tracy, if you don't mind I'll go without your complimentary drink for me being a hero. I think I'm over-heating. Here's my card. Contact me if you wish to begin an affair with me."

"But I'm not seeking an affair with you," Tracy said indigently, throwing the business card back at Brent.

"Very well, but please keep this in case your black heart turns back to healthy red," Brent said, picking up the card and deftly thrusting it through her neckline to rest between very firm, rounded breasts.

They parted without saying another word.

Two days later, mid morning, Brent received a call. "What sort of liaison?"

Tracy!

"Plutonic is out for me." he said. "If I'm to transgress I want it all. Whenever, wherever and as many positions we can physically manage at our age."

"Oh."

There was a pause and Brent waited patiently. Finally she whispered, "You mean unbridled sex?"

Moping his forehead he said yes, she should be responsible for conception protection, they both have tests to produce an all-clear in respect of STDs and they then embark on a relationship of debauchery.

"Is that what you want?"

He'd figured why not; at present he was inhibited by more 'don't do that' instructions than 'Oooh, I like that.' So in on the verge of breaking out, why not ask for absolute sexual freedom. He replied "Yes, but nothing really kinky and definitely nothing abusive."

"Okay, those parameters sound fine but I'd like to add one thing, "If I say no, no means no."

"Fine, providing the same applies if I say no."

"Agreed," she said.

"Right, let's meet this Friday night and rip one off; yummy!"

"You juvenile," she shouted, terminating the call.

Huh, Brent thought. What's up with her?

An hour later when he snatched some thinking time he'd analyzed the problem: He'd verbally unzipped much too fast; she wanted the preliminaries of a soft waste of time, being endowed with unnecessary expenses and only then being romanced to bed to the sound of ancient music even older and more and musically refined than 'The Beach Boys'. With that sorted he guessed that was the end of Tracy: she'd never want to talk to him again.

But romance moves in unexpected ways. The next day he saw Tracy emerge from a restaurant with two other women around her own age. She saw him, smiled and said, "Oh hello."

Brent thought he must not let this last gasp chance slip by so walked up and kissed her on the lips. Ignoring her surprise he said, "Hi Tracy. Long time no see; I'm just back from three years in Africa."

"Oh Africa," one of her companions said excitedly. "The falls and big game watching I suppose, how exciting."

"No, a United Nations public health posting in Chad," Bent fantasized. "The only animals I saw were domestic dogs, cats and rats, probably spreading disease."

"Oh, how gruesome," the no longer exited woman said, kissing Tracy goodbye.

"Goodbye Tracy," said her other companion, with more kissing.

The two ignored Brent and walked away.

"You've just lied to me, my sister and sister-in-law," Tracy smiled.

Encouraged by the smile Brent said, "It was a lovely kiss. May I steal another?"

She didn't comment nor did her expression change so Brent kissed her, properly this time, and kept on kissing till her eyes finally closed and he felt her grip on his arm tighten.

"Like that?" he asked, breaking away.

"Rarely had better," she said guardedly. "My husband Ralph is out of town for a couple of days. "I suppose you'll want to take advantage of the situation?"

Brent attempted to look innocent: "Who, me? That's not my style. My wife has library committee meeting tomorrow evening. Could I take you somewhere for a drink tomorrow after work?"

That lit Tracy's eyes. "How lovely. Yes, I'll meet you there – that same bar on the waterfront?"

"Yes. It would appear to be a business drink to anyone who recognizes either of us."

Brent contained himself and every Friday after work for five weeks they met just for a drink, not even a knee touch or a foot rub. They were now talking intimately and on that fifth Friday Brent sensed Tracy was bursting to be consumed by an affair. But he remained steadfast, sticking to his strategic plan: she must suggest a meeting place for the liaison. That evening her eagerness broke through.

"My husband leaves this evening for two nights in Christchurch. We have a beach house up north – would you care to accompany me there in the morning?"

Brent had to steel himself to decline – oh, it was so perfect as Rachel was driving that evening to a library conference at Taupo. "I'm sorry, my wife wants me to accompany her to Lake Taupo for some event – she doesn't like driving after dark so I have to take her. The welcoming cocktail party starts at 9:00 tonight. That of course was a lie – it was a working conference, librarians only, with delegates traveling in twos or more to increase the intensity of fellowship.

It thrilled him to see the disappointment in Tracy's eyes. He reached across to hold her hand. She squeezed it and then kissed it – the first physical intimacy from her. Tracy was ripe and ready for bed.

She'd given Brent her business card a couple of weeks earlier. Tracy was a self-employed resource management consent/environment protection management consultant. Brent waited till 6:00 before calling her.

"Hi, it's Brent. Where are you?"

"Just about to turn on to the harbor bridge approach in Ponsony."

"I'm at home – we found out at the last minute that it's a delegates-only conference; we were guilty of not reading the registration form and my resigstration was mistakenly accepted."

"So where does that leave you?"

"At home, facing a lonely weekend."

Brent heard Tracy suck in her breath. "Give me your address; I'm on my way to collect you."

He thanked her and once off the phone yelled in glee; it had taken lies and tactics but after his initial heartless attempt to initiate an affair he had it back on track; although Tracy might not like him for his deceit. On the other hand what she was about to get from him would more than compensate.

He slipped into her vehicle, throwing his soft bag on to the back seat, saying, "Isn't this a miracle; she held up her lips to be kissed, very smiling and slightly opened lips. Not unexpectedly they kissed without heated passion and as the kiss continued Brent slipped down a hand to cup a breast for the first time.

"Wow – firmish, feels beautifully formed and I think the nipple is rising."

"Ohmigod," she said, running her tongue tip across his lips. Affix your seat belt and let's be going."

Chatting excitedly like teenagers going to a school ball, they headed north out of Orewa for Wellsford where Tracy planned to stop for dinner.

"Do we really want to simmer for a hour in a seedy restaurant or should you buy a couple of pizzas while I hunt out a couple of bottles of wine? Brent asked.

She smiled and chose pizzas to reheat afterwards.

"After what?" he replied slyly.

She was up to a strong reply: "Whatever you chose as pre-dinner activity."

"I rather like you – you have class."

She sighed and said that was a very nice thing to say to her, dropping her hand on to his thigh, only to pull it away when he attempted to haul it to his groin. "Down boy," she giggled.

Brent entered the rough-sawn wood dwelling with its brown long-run steel roof perched in magnificent isolation on a headland with views out to the outer islands of the gulf, his feelings mixed. Entering another man's house to seduce that man's wife was not his idea of perfect entry into marital infidelity.

"A great location," he said, looking out to low sunrays caught in early evening ocean haze.

"This is magic – David owns the farm, I financed construction of the house and the metal access track.

Brent thought fucking another man's wife in her own house was a great improvement on the notion of fucking a man's wife in his house. He attempted to form a disarming smile, "Now?"

Tracy dropped the pizzas on the kitchen bench beside the four bottles of wine he'd placed there and whispered, "It can't come soon enough."

And so the affair began. Some kisses, hot panting, clothes torn off and quick thrusting followed. She squeaked into convulsions and seconds later he bellowed and covered her belly with thick fluid. She lifted up to look at it but left it untouched.

"I'll fetch a towel."

"Come back quickly and hold me – my emotions are running rampant."

He returned, wiping her and kissing her still damp belly.

"I'd forgotten how loving a man could be," she sighed, reminding Brent how loving he used to be.

He sighed, accepting it was very difficult to return to one's yesterdays.

They scoffed the pizzas and finished two bottles of wine, having every intention of returning to the wide sofa under the windows facing out to sea and fucking long and slowly. But towards the end of the second bottle of wine Tracy folded slowly on to the tabletop and didn't stir when Brent carried her to the marital bed. He showered and returned to the under-window sofa, opening the sliding windows, leaving only insect screens between him and the light surf crashing on to the beach some 150 yards down the slope below.

He yawned, knowing sleep was moments away. Brent felt extremely happy, rather like a honeymooner and pleased he felt no guilt from betraying his wife. He supposed that would come later, like being hit by a brick.

Brent stirred and stretched and patted Tracy's head. She'd arrived to administer to him; what a wonderful way to enter a new morning – dawn colored the sea and painted the eastern-facing flanks of the outer island while his morning erection was being variously sucked, licked, twisted and swallowed by someone determined to treat him magnificently. Eventually Brent sighed to warn Tracy what was coming but her mouth stayed to receive the deposits.

That pleased him; she was not cum-shy after all.

Tracy lay over him for a while, licking and sucking his nipples and then kissing his mouth and eyes and tonguing around his right ear. While this was going on they heard tui's sound their mixture of pure notes and aggressive discord and then something really unusual.

"What's that?"

"Wood pigeons crashing through trees," she replied dreamily.

When Tracy appeared to be falling asleep Brent carried her to the kitchen table, placing her on her back. There was no need really to suck her nipples hard; they were erect like pencil ends. But he licked them just the same and heard her whisper, "Good boy."

Brent licked his way down to an already moist orifice and his tongue entered it greedily and it wormed and lapped Tracy into what appeared by her groans to be a very satisfying orgasm. Taking a few minutes for Tracy to revive, they grabbed a bottle of mineral water from the fridge and then raced down nude to the beach for a quick swim and then for a walk to dry off.

"Well what a perfect start to an affair," Tracy said, their footprints marking their progress along sand returned to pristine state by the over-night tide.

"I was just thinking exactly that," Brent said, swinging Tracy around to kiss her and then holding her out was complimentary about her breasts. "You know, this sure beats whacking you off in a car or a motel room with your showering hurriedly to return home on schedule."

"My husband goes away often, so your opportunities to return here are numerous."

"I've come to really adore you Tracy – I wish I could say love, but that would be unfair."

"Oh, I don't know. At least not to me. Say it."

"I love you Tracy."

She reached down to grasp his balls. "Are you teasing or saying what you mean?"

"Saying what I mean."

"Oooh. Very nice. I believe I'm close to reciprocating." Her hand shifted onto his cock. "Let me urged this fellow to grow big again. We'll need to do it standing up as sand contamination would be like sandpaper."

"Don't you guys do it on the beach?"

"I wish. We just don't it much anymore."

Tracy called on Tuesday to invited Brent to meet her for lunch.

They kissed like lovers, her intensity surprising Brent. Ten minutes later she was telling him when her husband arrived home on Sunday evening he announced he was leaving her for his personal assistant."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not. He hasn't loved me for some years. At least his personal assistant is female which means not so much explaining to do to my friends. He's probably fucked half of them – the women I mean. My sister told me two years ago he'd fucked her twice."

"Oh dear; what now?"

"We've agreed that I get the farm – it's only 30 acres – and he buys me out of the house of which we have an equal shares under matrimonial breakup legislation and he's buying my half share in the keeler, so I'm left with plenty to buy a luxury apartment – I think I look down in the waterfront viaduct area."

"I'll help you through this difficult period."

"I was counting on that. In fact you might like to think about shifting in with me."

"You mean permanently?"

"Yes if that's you wish."

Brent licked his lips. "In effect that would end our affair."

"I suppose so – in fact yes."

"But it means I'd be with someone I love."

Tracy looked at Brent with huge eyes. "Oh Brent, don't ever leave me."

Three days later Brent phoned Tracy at work. "If you love me and want me I have great news for you. My marriage is over by mutual agreement so following two year's separation the marriage will be dissolved."

"Just a few days after mine," Tracy said excitedly. "Then do you wish to remarry?"

"Yes, if I can find someone who wants me."

"Brent!"

"Sorry – darling Tracy: Will you marry me in two years' time?"

"Yes, definitely; I'll know I'll truly love you very soon, Brent. Already I am thinking of you several times a day. Tell me, was seeking the exit difficult?"

"Not really. It will be expensive for me because I've been the prime asset builder but she winds up with half. I've decided to expand the business and by taking in just three new partners I'll be almost back to where I was before this upset began. Rachel broke down at our conference with our lawyers and confessed she's been having an affair with another librarian – a female one. She wasn't pressed to admit any wrong-doing because it makes no difference to the carving up of assets – just guilt got to her I guess."

"Oh, I'm so happy. What now?"