For those unfamiliar, Kate and I share an adventurous and deeply fulfilling sex life. Our connection took root one day, when I visited her home for a photographic assignment. We are both unattached, at least in spirit. She’s divorced, and I’m a widower, though I share a house, and the bills, with a partner who has no interest in sex. For me, life had felt barren, a dry and colourless stretch of time. Meeting Kate was like stumbling upon an unexpected oasis, a place where passion and spontaneity thrived.
One particular evening, during one of our quiet, secret meetings, we found ourselves curled up on her sofa, the soft glow of a wood fire casting a warm golden hue across the room. The faint crackle of a record played in the background, and the rich aroma of the wine we sipped mingled with the comforting scent of her home. Kate leaned back, her eyes playful yet contemplative as she swirled her glass.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, her voice, smooth as the Merlot, pausing for effect.
“I’d like to see other men… just for fun, you know. Would you mind?”
Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, I felt a tight knot of jealousy. It surprised me, that pang. But as I met her gaze and saw the mischievous glint in her eyes, something unexpected flickered to life within me, a spark of intrigue, an unfamiliar thrill. Why should I object? Life had already blessed me with Kate, who was far more than I could have ever hoped for. My world, once stagnant, had become vividly alive since she entered it.
“So,” I said slowly, letting the tension hang in the air like a taut string, “Alright.” I paused deliberately, watching her eyes widen with anticipation, her lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile. “Fine by me… as long as you don’t mind if I have a bit of fun too?”
Kate’s grin turned wicked, her eyes dancing with mischief. Before I could say another word, she snatched a cushion and launched it at me, her laughter ringing out as she sprang forward. In an instant, she was on me, pinning me to the sofa with the kind of playful intensity that made my pulse quicken. Her lips found mine, and the kiss that followed was nothing short of electrifying, as though all the tension, jealousy, and excitement had fused and popped her cork.
As the moment softened into quiet contentment, we found ourselves talking through the possibilities. The idea felt daring, almost surreal, but also tantalising in its novelty. Together, we decided to see where it could lead.
The adventure began on the internet, where the promise of new experiences mingled with the less savoury reality of browsing the digital underworld. Most of the websites we stumbled across were a mass of cheap graphics and tacky slogans, populated by people I couldn’t imagine meeting in person. It was amusing at times, exasperating at others, but we pressed on, the thrill of discovery keeping us hooked. Finally, after some searching, we landed on a site that seemed a cut above the rest. It was sleek, professional, and discreet, qualities that came at a cost, but ones we were willing to pay. It catered specifically to adults seeking carefully curated arrangements, with benefits clearly outlined and expectations understood.
Setting up the account was a joint effort, the kind of mischievous collaboration that felt both intimate and utterly ridiculous. Kate perched beside me, wine glass in hand, leaning in close enough for her perfume to tease my senses. She watched every keystroke with eagle-eyed precision, dictating what women supposedly wanted to read in a dating profile.
“Hair?” I read aloud, fingers poised over the keyboard.
“Yes,” she replied with mock seriousness.
I smirked, the corner of my mouth twitching with mischief. “I was going to put ‘Brown.’”
Before I could finish, a cushion whizzed past my face, narrowly missing me. Kate glared playfully, daring me to try her patience.
“Eyes?” I continued, pretending to focus. “Two?”
Wham. Another cushion. I winced theatrically, muttering under my breath, “hu, excellent hearing too.”
When we arrived at the dreaded “Describe yourself and your ideal partner” section, Kate snatched the laptop with a wicked grin. “I’ll take it from here,” she declared, already tapping away with the confidence of someone writing a masterpiece.
Moments later, she turned the screen toward me, her expression one of feigned innocence. I skimmed the words and raised an eyebrow. It didn’t sound like me at all, if anything, it was an idealised version, polished and poetic.
“That’s how I see you,” she said, her eyes softening for a brief, disarming moment before puckering her lips and blowing me a cheeky kiss.
A few days later, curiosity got the better of me. Logging back in, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. The inbox was bursting at the seams with messages, notifications flashing like Vegas lights.
“Wow,” I breathed, leaning back in my chair, wide-eyed as I pointed to the screen.
Kate leaned over, her lips quirking into a smirk. “There are a lot of women out there who want affairs, and they seem pretty intent on getting hold of you.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, ducking just in time to avoid another flying cushion.
Reading the replies together became its own kind of aphrodisiac. Each message we opened sparked laughter, curiosity, and just enough tension to stoke the fire between us. Before long, the teasing turned into lingering glances, the occasional brush of skin against skin. The air grew charged with unspoken intent until we abandoned the laptop altogether, falling into each other with a heated urgency.
One moment, we were teasing about some poorly written profile message; the next, we were locked in a feverish game of tonsil tennis. The laughter dissolved into breathless whispers, the sofa cushions forgotten as we tumbled into a passion that felt both inevitable and exhilarating.
That night, we agreed this was going to be a new venture for both of us, a fresh adventure. And just like that, the plan was hatched.
I sifted through the replies, one in particular caught my eye and sparked my imagination. I’d been careful with my filters, ensuring that only responses from those who were married yet firmly uninterested in disrupting their current lives came through. Caution had become second nature, years of experience had taught me to avoid the discontented or those looking for an escape hatch from their marriages. But this one? She was different. She seemed… perfect.
Her profile name was “missjosey,” a moniker laced with playful mystery. At 36, she lived just outside North London and was married, her profile painting a picture of quiet elegance. She described herself as 5’4” with emerald, green eyes that seemed, in my mind’s eye, to glimmer with a hint of mischief. Her mousy blonde hair suggested a softness, an understated confidence that didn’t demand attention but effortlessly drew it all the same.
She’d written about her figure as “curvy but shy,” a description that struck me as endearing, even disarming. There was a hesitance in her words, a vulnerability that contrasted with the intrigue her profile exuded. It was as though she was gently inviting connection rather than boldly commanding it, a subtle allure that resonated with me deeply.
Without hesitation, I began composing a reply. Every word felt like a move in a delicate game, one where too much or too little could make all the difference. I chose my phrasing carefully, making sure my tone reflected interest and respect her profile inspired. This was no time to fumble the opportunity, I couldn’t let this connection slip away.
That was all it took. The blue touch paper was lit, and the response came swiftly. A long, detailed email landed in my inbox, revealing just enough to deepen my intrigue without giving too much away. Accompanying it were a couple of photos, tasteful, suggestive without being overt, yet undeniably captivating. They stirred something in me, a mix of anticipation and desire, and, as it turned out, in someone else as well.
“Now I’m jealous,” Kate whispered, her voice teasing and edged with mischief as she leaned over my shoulder to get a better look at the photos. Her warm breath ghosted against my neck, making my skin prickle. Before I could even react, her arm snaked around my waist, her fingers deftly unzipping my trousers. I barely had time to process before her hand found me, wrapping firmly around my semi-hard cock, stroking with just enough pressure to leave me breathless.
Her wet lips brushed my ear, a flicker of tongue making my heart race, she nibbled lightly, her teeth grazing in a way that sent shivers down my spine. I turned to her, my mouth half-open to protest, but the words evaporated as she pushed me back onto the sofa, her eyes dark with intent.
Kate’s wicked smile was the only warning before she descended, her lips hot and eager as she took me fully in a wet mouth. Her movements were ravenous, her tongue swirling with a kind of feral hunger that left no doubt about her intentions. She didn’t falter, her rhythm relentless and unapologetically demanding. It wasn’t long before the inevitable overcame me, and I gasped, muscles tensing as she coaxed every last drop from me.
When she finally pulled back, her triumphant smirk said everything. My release glistened on her lips and chin, dripping like the fangs of a playful predator who had claimed her prey.
“Bed,” she commanded, her voice husky with authority and desire, leaving no room for argument.
Later, as we lay tangled in the sheets, my thoughts wandered back to missjosey. After a few more email exchanges, the inevitable question loomed: when to meet? The time had come to take the plunge (if you’ll pardon the pun) and arrange something real, something tangible. Yet, uncertainty gripped me. How would Kate react? How should I even bring it up?
“How many times before…” I began hesitantly, but she cut me off mid-sentence with a devilish grin.
“Fuck those games,” she said, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and challenge. “Set the date and make it happen.”
Her confidence was disarming, her readiness almost startling, but it ignited a flame in me. If this was the path we were going to tread together, I knew there was no turning back now.
As fate would have it, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. My other half had just mentioned a work trip to Italy to assess a client’s IT system, leaving the door wide open for my own plans to unfold. No explanations needed for staying out late, or even overnight.
Miss Josey and I agreed to meet in the early evening. With both of us conveniently working in the city, it was easy to find a setting that offered the right mix of anonymity and discretion. The bustling streets provided the perfect cover—busy enough to blend in, yet intimate enough to avoid prying eyes or the risk of running into a familiar face.
We met up at a little bistro near Tower Bridge. When I saw her, it was as though the rest of the world faded into a blur. She introduced herself as Rosanna, and in an instant, she exceeded every expectation I had dared to form. Her curvy figure was unapologetically sensual, her confidence palpable, but it was those striking emerald-green eyes that truly held me captive. They seemed to shimmer with both mischief and a hint of nervous anticipation, the perfect balance of allure and vulnerability.
Her shoulder-length hair cascaded loosely, framing her face with an effortless softness that tempered the sharpness of her high cheekbones and delicate jawline. There was an understated elegance about her, the kind that turned heads without ever trying, and I couldn’t help but feel drawn to her in a way I hadn’t anticipated.
As she approached, her stride was deliberate but not overt. It was as though she carried herself on a fine line between shyness and confidence, a quiet power in her movements that only added to her allure.
“Hello,” she said, her voice warm and tinged with a light nervousness, though her smile was unshaken. The subtle blush on her cheeks betrayed her shyness, but her emerald eyes met mine directly, and I could see the spark of curiosity mirrored in them.
“Rosanna,” I replied, the word feeling foreign yet tantalising on my tongue.
For a moment, we simply stood there, the space between us charged with unspoken curiosity. My pulse quickened, a subtle warmth spreading through my lower abdomen as I took her in.
“Hi,” I said, leaning in slightly, offering a warm smile.
“Hello,” she replied, her voice smooth, with just the faintest hint of hesitation. Her eyes held mine, a playful glint flickering behind them as her lips curved into a soft smile.
Neither of us seemed eager to break the spell, the quiet pause between our words brimming with potential. Finally, she tilted her head ever so slightly, her confidence shining through in the way she carried herself, like she was in no rush to let the moment slip away.
The ice broken, I made sure to put Rosanna at ease, and after a couple of light drinks, the conversation began to flow effortlessly. It felt natural, as though we’d known each other for years. The flirtation that had sparked in our emails carried over seamlessly, punctuated by teasing remarks and playful innuendos that left her laughing softly, a sound that felt intimate in its own right.
She grew more relaxed as the minutes passed, twisting a strand of her hair around her finger, a classic tell that only added to her charm. Her giggles and radiant smiles, the way she leaned in slightly with each exchange, radiated a warmth that was both magnetic and disarming.
As the conversation slowed, subtle changes in her demeanour began to surface. Her breathing grew deeper, and the gentle rise and fall of her pert, lovely breasts hinted at a tension neither of us acknowledged but both felt. Over the table, our fingers touched, electrifying the space between us. The air thickened, charged with unspoken possibilities.
Rosanna glanced up at me with a soft, knowing smile, her green eyes glinting with mischief. I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice so only she could hear. “Shall I book a hotel for the night?” I asked, the words hanging between us like a dare.
She straightened, her cheeks faintly flushed, and replied, “I need to make a couple of calls quickly.” With that, she slipped away from the table, leaving me with the lingering scent of her perfume and the promise of what was to come.
What Rosanna didn’t know was that I’d already planned ahead. A reservation had been made a couple of days ago at a discreet European motel chain I often used while travelling. Flexible, anonymous, and easy to cancel at the last minute, it was perfect for situations like this.
When she returned, her grin was unmistakable, her eyes sparkling.
“He’s off to the pub,” she said, her voice brimming with excitement. “My sister and I are supposedly having a girly night on the town.”
“And” she murmured, leaning closer as her grin widened.
“I’ve got a quiet little room ready for us.”
I slipped my phone back into my pocket, careful to mask just how much I’d anticipated this moment. The look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know: the game was on, and neither of us had any intention of stopping now.
Her smile deepened, her eyes locked onto mine as her hand slid down to rest on my thigh. She gave a gentle squeeze, just enough to send a jolt of heat coursing through me, igniting something primal and immediate. “What are we waiting for?” she murmured, her voice low and laced with anticipation, each word dripping with an unspoken promise.
The double room I had booked overlooked the river, though I doubted we’d spare the view much attention tonight. As we stepped inside, the subtle details welcomed us, a soft glow from the bedside lamps, the carefully pulled-back bedspread, and the faint scent of freshly laundered linen mingling with Rosanna’s perfume. The room radiated intimacy, a quiet stage perfectly set for the night ahead.
I turned to her, slipping one arm gently around her waist, drawing her close as my other hand found the small of her back. She fit perfectly against me, her body yielding as though we’d been choreographed to meet this way. Her breathing deepened, her chest rising and falling against mine as I leaned in, my lips brushing against the shell of her ear.
“Regrets in the morning?” I whispered, the words a soft murmur meant only for her.
“None,” she replied, her voice steady but thick with emotion, a mixture of longing and certainty. Her hand settled firmly on my hip, drawing me closer still, while the other slid up around the back of my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair.
In the dimly lit room, her eyes shimmered with a tear, one of pleasure, anticipation, or maybe the overwhelming intensity of the moment. It clung to the corner of her eye, catching the faint glow of the light like a fleeting star. We stood there, swaying together in a rhythm only we could hear, the silent music of shared desire enveloping us completely.
Her breathing grew heavier with each movement, her body pressing against mine in a rhythm that needed no words. The heat between us was palpable, an unspoken language of desire flowing effortlessly in every touch and glance. I slipped her jacket from her shoulders, letting it fall unheeded to the floor, followed swiftly by my own.
Our lips met in a kiss that was intense and consuming, every beat between us seamless and electric. My hands slid down to her thighs, lifting the hem of her dress to reveal her smooth, rounded bottom. The sight of her silky-soft knickers paired with stockings, always my undoing, made my pulse quicken. She gasped softly as my fingers traced the curve of her skin, her body trembling slightly against mine, the anticipation thickening with each moment.
Rosanna clawed at my chest, her nails pressing into my skin with an urgency that sent shivers down my spine. Each sharp press of her fingertips only fed the fire burning between us. Her hands roamed freely, pulling at me with equal hunger, her passion unmistakable in the way she grasped at my bare flesh, as if she couldn’t get close enough.
She moved with deliberate intent, her desire pouring from every breath, every movement. Pressing her body firmly against mine, she slid her hands over my chest before easing me back just enough to begin undoing my shirt. Her fingers worked deftly, unfastening each button with a mix of urgency and care. For every inch of skin exposed, she followed with long, searing kisses. Her lips and tongue left a trail of fire, igniting every nerve she touched.
My hands found the zipper of her dress, and I pulled it down slowly, letting the sound punctuate the air between us. I savoured the sight of her as the fabric slipped from her shoulders, her delicate skin catching the soft glow of the room’s light. The dress fell effortlessly to the floor, pooling around her feet in a silken whisper.
She stood before me, breathtakingly seductive in a white lace bra, matching knickers, and suspenders adorned with delicate red bows, an image of pure temptation. Her reflection in the mirror caught my gaze, her eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and raw desire. I stepped closer, gently turning her around and guiding her hands to rest on the dressing table. Our eyes met in the glass, the unspoken promise between us thickening the air.
Dropping to my knees, I pressed my face against her smooth, rounded bottom, the softness of her skin an irresistible invitation. My lips trailed kisses along the curve, nibbling gently as I inhaled the faint, intoxicating scent of her wet pussy. Through the sheer fabric of her panties, her body trembled, her quiet moans growing heavier as my fingers traced the growing damp patch between her legs.
The scent of her desire filled the air, dizzying in its allure. I slipped my fingers beneath the delicate lace, finding her wet, inviting pussy, gently inserting a finger to explore the depths of her body. She stiffened slightly, her head bowing as a shiver of pleasure coursed through her. Her breathing hitched, her body pressing back against me, seeking more.
Suddenly, she turned, her breath shaky, and I caught the glisten of a single tear trailing down her cheek. Without a word, I reached up, brushing it away with my thumb before leaning in to press a soft, reassuring kiss to her lips. She looked at me with raw, unfiltered desire, her confidence flickering back to life as she dropped to her knees before me.
“I want to see my present,” she whispered her voice low, urgent, and full of need. Her fingers worked deftly, pulling my belt free and unfastening my trousers. My cock, hard and straining against the fabric of my pants, sprang free as she tugged them down with purpose.
Without hesitation, Rosanna took me into her mouth, her lips enveloping me with a fervour that made me groan. Her tongue worked against me in practiced, deliberate strokes, her movements hungry and unrelenting. One hand cupped my tight balls, rolling them gently, while the other disappeared between her legs, her fingers moving with desperate intensity as she pleasured herself.
My hands settled on her head, fingers tangling gently in her hair as I began to guide her, thrusting slowly into her mouth. The vibrations of her moans around me sent jolts of pleasure up my spine, and the harder she worked, the more frantic her movements became. Her fingers moved faster, her need for release obvious, her body straining toward an orgasm she had long been starved of.
Unable to hold back any longer, I pulled her up to meet me. Her lips, swollen and glistening, pressed against mine, hesitant at first but eager, her hunger undeniable. Smiling against her mouth, I guided her toward the bed, laying her down gently. There was no need for further foreplay, her body was ready, her slick heat calling for mine with an urgency I couldn’t ignore.
Positioning myself between her legs, I kissed her deeply, my lips lingering on hers as her hand reached down instinctively. She wrapped her fingers around my hard cock, guiding me closer with deliberate, aching need. The head of my cock teased her entrance, sliding against her slick, swollen lips.
Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed as she bit her lip, her body trembling in anticipation. Slowly, I pressed forward, her soft pussy parting to welcome me, enveloping me in her heat. The moment hung suspended, every sensation heightened as we became one, the culmination of everything that had brought us here.
Rosanna gasped, her head lifting from the pillow as she watched me tease her. I pulled out slowly, just enough to let my swollen end, rest against the lips of her pussy, then slowly pushing back in, deeper each time, her body heat pulling me in like a tide. Her head fell back into the pillows, her muffled cries of pleasure filling the room.
Propped on one arm, I let my free hand wander to her breasts, cupping one with care as my thumb circled her hardened nipple. She arched into my touch, her lips parting with a sharp intake of breath. Leaning down, I kissed her deeply, the growing intensity of our connection sparking through every press of my lips.
Fully inside her now, I began to move, finding a rhythm that brought us both to the brink of madness. Rosanna bucked her hips against me, her movements frantic, grinding herself against my cock as each thrust sent a ripple of pleasure through her. The angle of my hips ensured I hit her clit with every movement, and I could feel her losing control, her body surrendering completely to the moment.
A guttural growl escaped her lips as her body tensed, her orgasm rushing through her in a wave of shuddering ecstasy. Her pussy gripped me tightly, her walls contracting rhythmically, pulling me deeper as her cries filled the air. I stayed still for a moment, letting her ride the peak as I savoured the exquisite sensation of her pulsating around me.
Without breaking our connection, I shifted her legs over my shoulders, folding her body beneath me. Rosanna’s flushed face tilted up, her grip on the bedsheets tightening as she surrendered herself entirely to me. In this position, I had full control, and the raw, unrestrained lust between us took over.
Each thrust was deliberate, steady, and unrelenting, and with every movement, Rosanna’s moans became louder, transforming into whispered curses that escaped through gritted teeth. Her body arched beneath me, the tension coiling tighter with every motion. Her nails dug into my hips, the sharp sting only fuelling my need to take her further, deeper.
Suddenly, it hit me, the surge of pleasure building to a crescendo. My thrusts grew more urgent, each one deliberate and powerful as the pressure in my core became impossible to resist. Rosanna’s eyes widened, locking onto mine, her expression a mix of awe and unbridled passion. Her jaw dropped in a silent scream, her body trembling violently beneath me as her own climax rushed to meet her.
Gripping her hips tightly, I pushed deeper, burying myself to the hilt as we both peaked together. Her legs wrapped tightly around my back, holding me in place as we spiralled into a shared release. Her body clenched around me, milking me for every drop as I groaned deeply, the tension breaking free in a torrent of pleasure.
Panting and utterly spent, I let myself collapse gently on top of her, careful to keep the weight of the moment soft and tender. We lay together in the quiet aftermath, the room filled only with the sound of our slowing breaths.
Rosanna’s arms wrapped around me, and we exchanged slow, languid kisses, each one a tender reminder of the connection we’d just shared. My hand reached up, brushing the damp strands of hair from her glowing face, my fingers stroking her flushed skin softly.
We basked in the warmth of the moment, the world outside forgotten as we held each other close, the intimacy lingering like a gentle, unspoken promise.
“Stay in me,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath, her lips brushing against my ear.
For a while, we simply held each other, our breathing falling into a shared rhythm as the afterglow wrapped around us like a warm blanket. The lingering sensation of unity, of being so utterly connected, was almost sacred. Neither of us spoke; words felt unnecessary, replaced by the quiet comfort of touch and presence.
Then, without warning, Rosanna let out a soft giggle, the sound breaking through the quiet intimacy like sunlight through a window. Confused, I glanced down, and then I felt it too, the gentle, almost ticklish sensation of my softening cock slipping out of her. We both burst into quiet laughter, the humour of the moment blending perfectly with its beauty.
I shifted to lie beside her, pulling her close and wrapping her in my arms. Her head nestled into the crook of my shoulder, her hair tickling my skin as her fingers traced lazy circles across my chest.
“What now?” she asked softly, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and contentment.
“Well,” I said with a teasing grin, tilting my head to meet her eyes, “there are still ninety-nine other positions we’ve yet to try.”
Her laugh was bright and infectious, her eyes crinkling with delight as she swatted me playfully. The teasing gave way to more kisses, our lips and hands exploring with renewed curiosity. Time melted away, the night stretching on as we indulged in each other, the bond between us deepening with every moment.
Sleep didn’t come until the early hours of the morning, our bodies too entangled in discovery and joy to care about the clock. When we finally did rest, it was with a shared warmth that made the world outside feel distant, insignificant compared to what we’d created together.
“Come on, it’s breakfast time,” I said, and we made our way down to the breakfast bar.
The room was busy yet calm, a gentle hum of low conversation and the soft clinking of cutlery filling the air. We chose a table near the corner, the soft morning light filtering in through the windows as we settled in with plates of food and steaming cups of coffee.
As we began eating, I became keenly aware of a figure slipping into the seat at the adjacent table. Years of practice had taught me to keep my emotions in check, and this moment was no different. Still, my heart skipped a beat.
“Good morning,” the young lady beside us said warmly, their polite smiles directed our way.
“Good morning,” Rosanna replied cheerfully, giving them a brief glance before returning to her coffee.
But I couldn’t ignore the tightness in my chest. It was Kate.
Her eyes met mine for the briefest of moments, a flicker of recognition passing between us before she glanced away, her expression unreadable. She seemed as bleary-eyed as I felt, her presence unexpected yet oddly composed. I held my composure, keeping my face neutral and my gaze casual, matching her demeanour as though nothing was amiss.
When we finally left the dining area, Rosanna turned to me, her brows knitted with curiosity.
“Did you know that woman?” she asked, her voice low but pointed. “Was she one of your… conquests? Or am I truly the first?”
I hesitated, choosing my words carefully.
“Yes, I know her,” I admitted evenly, sensing the flicker of jealousy in her tone.
Before she could press further, I offered her a wry smile, tilting my head slightly.
“She’s my boss,” I said simply, watching her expression shift from suspicion to curiosity. Then, raising an eyebrow, I added,
“And that man with her? That’s not her husband.”
Rosanna blinked, momentarily stunned by the revelation. A slow smile crept across her face, though she said nothing. Instead, we walked in companionable silence back toward the station, each lost in our own thoughts.