Hotwife Confession Journal Entry 11

Work demanded my full attention. Days, then weeks slipped by. Life started to take on a semblance of normality. I started to look back on the first week of the New Year as the craziest in my life. I would look back on a calendar and mentally mark the days and events. Had all that really happened in single week? It genuinely had.

Work had kept me more than busy in the weeks since. Adjusting to the new role, negotiating the employment contract for a job I was already doing, securing protected research time and ensuring I had sufficient support staff to protect that protected time, all consumed my thoughts and energy. Not that I was not thinking about Dwayne. I definitely wanted to see him again. Technically, I saw him every day at work. He stopped in my office once a day, almost like clockwork. That he stopped in and said hello to nearly everyone on our floor made his visits appear perfectly normal. His day job was the perfect cover, and he was the pinnacle of discretion. He never gave the slightest hint that our eye contact at work was anything other than the friendly interaction that he offered many people. But I wanted to SEE him, see him. I thought about Dwayne all the time. I tried to channel that energy in constructive ways. I found myself adopting a regular gym routine. Finally getting those squats in that I had been meaning to for a long time. I was starting to see results from the structured workouts and feeling a bit proud of myself.

Along with my self-care kick, I made a point of dropping into a walk-in clinic and get an STI test done. It would be good to confirm that my misadventures with Greg were well and truly behind me. I never heard from him. Whether it was because he did not have my personal number anymore, thanks to his phone getting wiped, or he knew to stay away it did not matter. Once I got my test results back, scanned their results for a clean bill of health, noted a suggestion to get retested very six months, I closed the book on my thoughts of Greg once and for all.

Whatever rumors may have existed around the office regarding my previous relationship with Greg were stamped out with his firing and my ascension to his position. There was nothing to my interactions with Dwayne to give the gossip gals the least suspicion, either. The new rumors seemed to be swirling about Sammie. However, these rumors were not sexual. Rather this was about good old-fashioned professional jealousy. Sammie seemed to have an 'in' with the new boss. She was a frequent visitor to my office, and we worked together routinely. This was all entirely defensible, and she was a very good researcher in her own right. So, I would make no apologies for our close friendship and encouraged her not to either.

Home-life was getting back to normal as well, with just a couple of adjustments. I was working later more often and taking the occasional legitimate business dinner. Even so, I was home plenty and attending soccer games and participating in in the family routines. I only had to assure Tom once my late work evenings were strictly work related and promised I would keep him well informed if any evening absence was otherwise. Intimacy with Tom had reached a happy medium. The near daily sexual encounters during the intense first week of the New Year had trailed off, but not nearly to the point of the virtual sexual desert that was our marriage for the few years preceding it. It was nice. Healthy even. In fact, the dialogue spurred by my stumbling into the 'hotwife' lifestyle seemed to break down a final communication barrier in our marriage that I did not know existed. Tom would initiate casual discussions over a night out at dinner or while walking the dog together, talking about his sexual health and how he viewed his sexuality at his age. It was a fundamental shift from the years of him dropping disjointed hints, veiled in humor, that I was never sure how to interpret. The insights brought us closer together and made it easier to initiate intimacy on a regular basis. He even went so far as to explain that he preferred to be kept 'on edge', as he put it, rather than achieve a climax during each sexual encounter.

Tom felt that he could feel depleted, potentially for weeks at a time, after an orgasm during sex. Whereas he felt like a more engaged partner when we could have sexy time that ended naturally after I achieved a climax but left him 'on edge' and thus eager for our next encounter as soon as possible. This actually made sense to me when I took time to think about it. Tom was always a doting husband, but when he doted on me sexually tended to come and go in phases. If I allowed that those phases dissipated after he had an orgasm, I had to admit it was a good personal insight for him to have and I wanted to support that. I enjoyed seeing Tom sexually satisfied as much as he did me, but if cooperating with him on his preference to deny him an orgasm for a while at a time was fulfilling for him in the long term, I could intentionally get on-board.

This orgasm denial practice really seemed to work too. We could fool around in bed one evening and then have a passionate time in the shower the next morning. I had to admit it felt great and a little empowering to have a sexually engaged husband without the additional stimulation of the 'eroticized cheating' of early January.

On the other hand, I found myself thinking about Dwayne more and more. The more I thought of him the more a subtle anxiety began to creep in. Perhaps the casual manner in which Dwayne conducted himself on a day-to-day basis at work, was not evidence of his uncanny talent for keeping a secret, but instead evidence that he viewed what happened between us a one-time thing. I hoped that was not the case. I desperately wanted to be with him again. To feel the things I felt during our first and only time together. Such were my thoughts one evening driving home from a late business dinner. As I mulled over the wonderful experience of being with Dwayne a realization dawned on me. Dwayne had sent me a video. Just a few days after our encounter he texted the download link for the video we filmed in his room. I had downloaded it and saved it to a private locked folder on my phone were I had moved all my spicy videos and pictures. With it out of sight on my phone, it had swiftly fallen out of mind with the whirlwind pace at work. I had completely forgotten about it until now.

When I arrived home, I sat in my car for a moment and pulled up the video. It was immediately evident Dwayne had put effort into making a special video for me. My hands were shaking as the images brought back memories of the intense sensations. I tapped the progress bar, catching glimpses of moments, and noticing the mix of angles. There were the wide shots from his fancy camera on the tripod. There were also some very graphic closeups from the handheld camera he placed on the nightstand as the evening began, and periodically picked up during our intimacy. In the moment, I had barely noticed him recording us. I was too wrapped up the sensations in sensations of his body connecting with mine. I was getting thoroughly aroused when a text came through on my phone.

Text from Tom: "Are you home? I thought I heard the garage?"

I had lingered in the garage longer than was my habit. It was fine. I was pretty keyed up and Tom was awake. I had some energy to workout with him.

Within minutes, I was in my bedroom stripping off my clothes and telling Tom to ready himself. He was all for it. Soon we were naked in bed together, me straddling him.

"Anything happen tonight?" he inquired eagerly, seeking an explanation for the impromptu sexual encounter.

I was grinding my hips on Tom, enjoying the feeling of having a man inside me.

"No, just a business dinner," I confirmed. "Just turned on."

I felt Tom's erection stiffen some more inside my body.

"I like it when you're turned on," he breathed.

"I know baby. I like it when you're turned on too."

It was true. He had gone a couple of weeks without an orgasm, and he was being amorous with me quite a bit lately. He reached up and cupped my breasts. I hissed at a sudden discomfort.

"Be gentle," I cooed, pulling his hands away.

"Are you sure nothing happened tonight," he teased with a hopeful grin.

I wished I had something other to share but the truth was, aside from surprising myself with a couple of moments of the video with Dwayne, it had been a rather routine day in my new job. Besides, Greg was the one who had sent me home with sore nipples. Dwayne had been rather gentle in that sense.

"No, my breasts are just a bit tender. I'm probably just coming up on my..." I trailed off, when another aspect of my reality intruded on my mind.

"Your period?" he suggested, trying to finish my sentence.

"Yeah," I assured, without sounding reassuring.

"Are you late?" he asked, reading my demeanor through my words.

"No," I dismissed.

'Yes' I was thinking. 'Very late.' Or maybe not. What day is it? When was the last one? It can't think right now.

"Are you pregnant?" he asked with some alarm.

"No," I barely got out, trying to refocus on the task of working myself to an orgasm.

Suddenly, Tom was making the noises signaling an imminent orgasm of his own.

"No, no, no," I said, quickly dismounting him, trying to honor our practice of maintaining his orgasm denial.

Had the thought of me being pregnant, knowing it could not be his, really just have nearly pushed him over the edge of an orgasm? I admit, even now, there are aspects of what turn Tom on that mystify me.

We both watched Tom's glistening erection pointing hard toward the ceiling, to see if he could recover himself before he began to ejaculate. He slowly calmed his breathing and the moment seemed to pass, but his erection did not diminish.

"Do you think you might be..." he said, resuming his question as he rolled on his side to face me.

"No, Tom. There's no way. My period is about to start," I replied, trying to assure myself most of all.

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, we cuddled and fondled each other and eventually went to sleep, neither of us indulging in an orgasm.

Truthfully, I did not sleep all that soundly. I left the house early the next morning, stopped at a pharmacy on the way to the office and hastily picked up a pregnancy test to satisfy my curiosity. The sooner I could put this concern behind me, the better.

Once at the office, I went to the women's restroom and locked myself in a stall. I took the box with the pregnancy test out of my bag. The bathroom was otherwise empty, so I hastily opened the box, the wrapper, and fumbled with getting the test ready. I peed. Used the test. Finished peeing. Then I sat there, staring at the test. How long did these things take? It had been a very long time since I used one. I should have read the instructions. However, I avoided direct eye contact with the box the whole time I had it; never mind actually reading the instructions or the advertising for how quick or reliable the package marketing would have boasted. I heard a couple of ladies enter the bathroom. I wanted privacy. I stuffed the test in its plastic wrapper, put the whole thing back in my bag, pulled myself together, and casually made my way back to my office after washing my hands like it was any other day.

I held the test low in my lap, so nobody could see it from the other side of my desk. Positive. I double checked the instructions but there was no confusing the positive test result. A false positive, surely. I shoved the test back in my bag and picked up my phone. I called my OB to make an appointment for a real test. The admin told me my doctor was booking appointments months out. I quietly explained on the phone the purpose of the appointment was a pregnancy test. There were a few moments of silence while she presumably pulled my medical records and noted my age. Soon I had an appointment scheduled for the day after tomorrow. I ended the call just as someone entered my office.

I wanted some company during this emotionally tumultuous moment and looked up hopefully. Sammie let herself in. I felt some tears leave the corners of my eyes and roll down my cheeks. I realized in that moment, my hope was that Dwayne was letting himself in but Sammie's presence was probably a better happenstance. I needed to work through this before I found a manly chest to cling to.

The closed-door conversation with Sammie was difficult. She had some firm words about snapping out of my mid-life thrill-seeking and behaving like a responsible adult. They were all things I was telling myself already. She understood that. In the end, we agreed we needed to focus on the next right steps. I was surrounded by good supportive people and even if my emotions on being pregnant were still a mix of hope and regret, now was not the time to start keeping secrets. We agreed informing Dwayne and Tom was the right thing to do, and I resolved to do so in that order. Sammie hugged me and assured me she loved me. Our friendship was surviving its first big test. She excused herself from my office and I texted Dwayne.

Text to Dwayne: "Hi. We haven't seen each other outside work lately. Do you have any time tonight? I'd like to see you."

Only moments passed.

Text from Dwayne: "I started to think you'd never ask. My place? After work?"

The thought lifted spirits. I could not bring up the subject matter via text. That would be immature. However, I did not want this to play out like an ambush conversation.

Text to Dwayne: "That's great. I'll meet you there. I'd like to talk a bit first, before we do anything."

Text from Dwayne: "I'm all yours. See you then."

Sammie and I agreed that reopening a conversation with Greg was too much of an emotional stretch for me right now. That would remain on the back burner until other things played out a bit. That just left queuing up a conversation with Tom.

Text to Tom: "Hey, Sweetie. I am going to see Dwayne after work. Wait up for me. We should talk and connect if you're up to it."

Tom might suspect what the 'talk' would be about. Maybe not. I had a busy workday to get through. Being vague was a defense mechanism to derailing whatever focus I could muster. It was not lost on me that my scheduled conversations came with implied intimacy. I wanted to connect and feel reassured by the men who I hoped would be supportive of me. I even found myself hoping that, even after all these years, there might have been some glitch with Tom's vasectomy, and he could be the father. Maybe none of this was really an issue. Maybe the test would be a false positive and my doctor appointment would prove as much. My emotions told me that was unlikely but maybe, just maybe.

...

If having a good sex life can have the effect of 'turning down the volume' on the small problems of everyday life, having an overly complicated sex life can leave everything else 'on mute.' I cannot remember a single meeting or conversation I had for the rest of the workday. I was lost in thought over what this would mean for my life and, more immediately, how to discuss it with Dwayne and Tom. I thought I had a plan in mind, though nothing felt like it would end well. Desperation to get through the day and get myself in front of Dwayne became an all-consuming thought.

By the time I showed up at Dwayne's door and knocked, I was downright scatterbrained. I waited for a minute, worried he might have cancelled, and took my phone out of my bag to check my messages. I must have just been impatient because I did not even get a chance to unlock my phone before I heard the door lock unlatch. As soon as Dwayne opened the door and greeted me with a warm smile, the whole plan went out the window. I just threw myself into his arms with a kiss. We stumbled into his house and he flung the door shut behind me.

Holding him close and in-between manic kisses, I just blurted out, "Dwayne, I might be pregnant."

Dwayne broke off our kissing and held me by my shoulders.

"Wait, what does that mean?" he asked with a look of concern for me and maybe a hint of a grin.

"It means I can't get any more pregnant. Take me to bed. I need you," I pleaded

This was not the responsible adult behavior Sammie and I discussed earlier. Even so, it must have struck Dwayne as a solid line of reasoning because we shed our clothes as we ascended his stairs towards his room. My bag, my clothes, as well as Dwayne's were scattered in a trail between the front door and the bedroom. Standing naked with Dwayne in his bedroom, I realized somehow I managed to strip down but not drop my phone anywhere. It was still in my left hand. I tossed it to the bed and pressed our nude bodies together in another kiss.

I had thought a great deal about my first night with Dwayne. I was overwhelmed by the experience and came away feeling like I looked inexperienced. I wanted to be a better lover to him. For starters, I convinced myself I could do better servicing Dwayne with my mouth. The strategy I worked out in my imagination required getting to him before he was fully aroused. I lowered myself to my knees before him. His girth was impressive, but still pliable and relaxed. I held him with my hands, pushed back his foreskin, and parted my lips. I took him in my mouth and immediately began relaxing my throat, working him further back into me as quickly as I dared. This was working. With each bobbing of my head, I worked him further and further in. But I was hung up at the very back of my throat. I was certain women could do this. I must be holding myself back. I needed help.

I looked up at Dwayne, made eye contact and with my hand, I guided his to the back of my head. While keeping my eyes locked on his, I held my hand over his, applying pressure, trying to get the message across. With a mouthful of cock, I gave Dwayne a quick nod when I felt his hand take over. I placed both my hands on his hips and pulled face towards his abdomen, taking as much of him in as I could will myself to do. When I reached what I thought was my limit, Dwayne took over. He pulled my face in and then it happened. With a bit of discomfort, I felt the head of his cock cross a threshold in my throat, and a good deal of his length passed in through my lips and down into my throat. The muscles in my body were rioting. It took all my control not to pull back with my head or push off with my hands. My eyes welled up with tears. I could see nothing. I had lost control over my throat muscles and they were protesting the intrusion. I still had not gotten all his length inside my mouth, but I had gone a good way towards achieving that goal. Dwayne pressed a few moments longer but I was making no additional progress. Instead, his arousal grew and I could feel is erection becoming engorged and trying to grow rigid. His erection was quickly incompatible with being in my throat and I gave into the need to push back from him. His impressive manhood slid from my throat and mouth, seeming to take forever.

When I finally caught breath and suppressed the urge to vomit, I saw his slick cock at full attention, covered in a considerable amount of saliva.

I had a plan for what came next too. Those squats I was working on so diligently were about to pay off. I rose to my feet, and after some corrective swallows to make my voice box feel like it was in the right spot, I instructed Dwayne to lay back on the bed. He did so and took a lounging position with his hands behind his head and resting on the pillows. Perfect.

I stepped up onto the bed and placed my feet on either side of his hips. Steadying myself with a hand on his headboard, I squatted down towards his awaiting erection. With my free hand I positioned his cock near my opening and lowered myself further. I closed my eyes and moaned as the delicious sensation of his girth parting my body sent waves of pleasure all through me. Slowly, I lowered myself further and further down his length, relishing every moment of the glorious first penetration. I stopped when he had penetrated as deep into me as was comfortable for now. I knew my body could adjust, would adjust, and welcome him all the way in. I just needed to let my body get there on its own. I placed both hands on the headboard and, with eyes closed, squatted up and down, letting the depth of my vagina tell me when to stop and come back up. This felt so amazing. I hoped Dwayne was enjoying letting me be on top. My body taking him in while he lay back, watching me.