Repaying my cheating Husband

I was furious, I was horny. I was hurt, I was frustrated. I was unhappy, I was on heat. I have a husband, I haven’t had sex for almost two weeks. I haven’t seen my husband in the time of the business trip, now he has called to say he have to stay a few extra days, unexpectedly. We have a good life; we didn’t have a good marriage.

I sat on the love-seat sofa, waiting for my husband to call from his hotel before his ‘evening business meeting’. I always suspected my husband was cheating on me out of town and that was the reason for the few extra days delay. He was going to shack up with some bar-bimbo he picked up and bedded on the expense of the company account. Today was the day I was going to confront him about his infidelity when he called. I expected him to call in about a half hour, after his young brother, Douglas got home, so he could say hi to him to.

As I sat on my couch with my mind on my libertine husband, I began to daydream about Dan, my first boyfriend. If the memories still serve me right; making out on the couch when I was young in my parents’ house was something I really loved. Of course, when they weren’t around. On my couch alone wearing a casual dress, I crept my hands under my loose white blouse I was wearing to my braless boobs as I continued to remember my sensual past, the past with my first.

Making-out was so much fun! How my sweet tender boobs have been suckled, and the nipples stood out so hard. Dan loved doing everything on me, everything a girl could want! I raised my skirt and put my other hand on my panty-less pussy, as I reminisced about the talented tongue of Dan, the tender-aged teenager who so sweetly tortured me from tits to clit. Oh, I was so horny! My finger found the button then slid down to dip in the well of my womanly weeping cunt, just like how my first boyfriend had petted me long time ago.

Dan, my first boyfriend had, back then, been the same age as my brother-in-law now. They even sort of looked alike. Maybe that was why I have been attracted to my husband. Only he didn’t like to go down there, you know, to my womanhood, not the way Dan did. I pitied the lady – no, make that slut, who my cheating husband was screwing. That girl would not walk away bowlegged like when Dan, my teen lover had made ravaging sex to his nubile girlfriend. Me. I wondered briefly if my young brother-in-law was as big between his legs as my first boyfriend had been.

Yes, I have proof now of my hubby’s infidelity. When Mr. ‘screw more days longer’ called yesterday, I heard a young female voice laugh, calling his name in a sexy manner. So I was madder than hell. I was a hot woman in my late twenties’ but very still attractive. I could tell from the glances I got from the horny men. To be honest I don’t know why husband was wasting time with a little slut when I can rumble and rock and roll and raise the roof and break the bed, and game all night long; and he was wasting it on some tramp that likely didn’t have half my experience in pleasing men.

I wished for my school days again, when boys and girls played Kalongolongo and explored each other’s bodies. Then when you get older you grope each other’s bodies, then progress to lips kissing, then lips kissing everywhere, lips and tongues all over each other’s bodies only if there are good at the ‘game’. . Until finally on that day you play the game past the limit, you go all the way, you do it. It never seems planned but it always seemed inevitable in retrospect. That the trip down the slippery slope to having sex was something that was ultimately unavoidable. Was it like that for my husband’s affairs? Was he trying to recapture his youth, like that answer to the same question in ‘Nairobi half-life’?

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