My wife and I have been married for 21 years, happily so for about 19 of them. The other two years have included epic fights, short-term separations, and some extramarital shenanigans on both of our parts.
What follows happened in late 1999, when things weren't so good for us. We had just separated. It turned out that we reconciled after about 6 months, but at the time I was thinking we were through. I moved into the downtown YMCA on a night-to-night basis. It was only a few blocks from my office, close to the night spots,and I already knew the staff since I'd been working out there at lunchtime for the past few years.
So I was living there, going to work, working out, and incredibly pissed off that a successful guy like me could be in this situation, epecially with the holidays approaching.
I was an angry. horny man.
I'm a lawyer. I do corporate work for big shots and government agencies. I spend a lot of time on the phone, and it always strikes me that when I talk with people on the telephone, I always imagine what they look like based on their voices. It's completely irrational...I think of deep-voiced guys as big and guys with high pitched voices as little and skinny. Women who sound happy I always think of as hot. Why else would they sound so happy, right? Okay, it's a dumb game but it livens thing up on a boring day.
Anyway, I played that game with Sherri. I talked to her a few times a week. She was the administrative assistant for one of the aforementioned big shots I represent. How can I describe her voice? Well, it was soft but assertive, confident, and playful. I think that adds up to sexy. So I looked forward to callingher boss; I'd always get her first, and enjoy her sexy voice for a minute before getting down to business. I started looking forward to the calls, and after a few months it seemed that she liked hearing from me, engaging in a little light conversation before getting her boss on the line. All while I wondered what she looked like.
One day, just as things were going down the shitter with my wife, I needed to call her boss about preparation for an upcoming trial. Sherri came on the line.
"Hi, Sherri, it's Rod. Is Al free?"
She let out an exaggerated sigh. "You never call me just to say hi, do you?"
I was suddenly wearing an ear-to-ear grin. "I suppose I could sometime...is he in?"
"No", she said, "he'll have to call you back. When are you free?" Was it me, or was she sounding sexier every day?
About a week went by...not a good week at home...a better week at the gym. I was moved out now, at my desk, looking at the phone, and thinking about Sherri. Did she mean it? Was that just light office flirting?
I dialed the number. "Hi, it's Rod.
There was a smile in her voice. "Hi, Rod. What can I do for you?"
"Nothing. I just called to say hi"
Honestly, I don't remember what she said after that, except that it was the first time I heard her giggle. The sound of feminine triumph.
It was nice. It was fun. She was obviously glad that I called her. We only talked for a few minutes, and I recall her telling me that she liked my voice. She thought I sounded like Dee Snider....who she listened to on the radio every day on her morning drive. (I soooo do not look like Dee Snider.) And then she said "Do you have an e-mail address?"
"Sure I do" I replied.
She sounded cautious now. "Is it just yours, or does your secretary see it?"
"No, it's just mine. No one else sees it."
She brightened up. "Maybe I'll send you something. I like to write."
We said our good byes....the conversation was light but we were both clearly excited.
Moments later she was in my in-box. The first of many messages from Sherri. They started as light and playful, and maybe a litle bit cautious, but it became immediately clear that we both had an agenda. I learned that she was married, perhaps not so happily, and that she had a baby, who she continued to nurse.
She was fun and playful, and had a habit of ending her messages with a question...always something provocative or outrageous. She always asked me what I was wearing, and always told me what she was wearing.
Only a few days after we began our on-line flirtation, she told me that she was wearing a short skirt and heels...low, for the office. I replied that I liked black high heels, and moments later found a message inmy box:
"Rod, I have some very high heels, black....they would look amazing propped up on your shoulders.....can we arrange that?"
I was rock hard, and every message I ever got from her after that made me hard before I even opened it. Paging Doctor Pavlov......
She was very clever....I loved her e-mails. Once, she asked me about sports...."Do you play?" I took the bait...told her I loved to "play". When I asked her what she played...she responded, "I only play hardball. When are you free?" I was rock hard.....at the office!
Only ten days after the first message, a week before Christmas, I got the message I'd been waiting for....her husband was away for the weekend. Did I want to come over? There were directions. She promised to wear the shoes, and not much else.
Yes, I wanted to come over. I spent the day in a daze....I remember everything I did that day, only because my heart was racing, my cock was hard, and I kept thinking "Holy shit...I'm planning to meet and fuck a girl I've never met!"
I left the office early that day, went to the Y, and worked out hard to try to calm myself down. I took a hot sauna, made sure I smelled good, and put my suit back on. I liked the power thing.
Driving to her house, I couldn't believe what I was about to do. In the last 15 years, I had never had sex with anyone but my wife. Now, it had been over a month since we last had intercourse. Not only was I going to break my marriage vow for the first time, but I was planning to fuck another man's wife. A girl I had never even met! I couldn't help but imagine for a moment what it would be like if I was wrong about her....what would I do if I found her really unattractive? For all the things I'd learned about her, I didn't even know what color hair she had!
My cock was full...pressing against my trousers....I adjusted it so that it pointed up. It was still uncomfortable, pressing against my belt. I could feel the workout...the muscles in my arms and chest had that burn that let me know I was still pumped.
It was a fifteen minute ride to her house, mostly on the interstate. I cranked Van Halen all the way there, and drank a beer to help me relax. Ain't talkin' 'bout love.....
I found the house....a nice cape on a well-kept suburban street. I saw the number, but the house was dark. I pulled into the driveway, killed the lights, and called her cell. She picked it up after only one ring.
"What if you don't like me?" She sounded different now. She was nervous.