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Everything you’re about to read is my own true story, which occurred in 1994 when I was in my late 20′s.



My name is Fleur and I was lucky enough to be naturally pretty with large breasts, size 38-DD, which looked out of place against my relatively small frame- I’m five foot six and 125 pounds. When I started dying my hair blonde people started saying I looked like Anna Nicole Smith when she was a reasonably thin Playboy model. I never had a problem getting dates in high school and college, but I was raised in a Catholic home and was determined to wait until my wedding night to surrender my virginity. After graduating from a state university I met Michael and fell in love with him. He was cute, smart, fun to be with, and most importantly his faith dictated that he too would remain a virgin until he got married.



So on my wedding night we did it, and I was left wondering what all the fuss was about. It was fine and I’d be happy to keep doing it as part of my duty as Michael’s spouse, but I wasn’t anxious for Round Two.



About two years after our marriage Michael found a great job in Manchester, New Hampshire and we bought a condo in the city. One day while at the pool Michael made friends with a man named Dante, who I first met when Michael invited him over to watch a baseball game. Dante was a really attractive guy in his early 20′s, maybe five years younger than Michael and I, and one couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was. Dante was six foot two and about 200 pounds with a lean muscle mass. Facially he looked a lot like Tom Cruise (who I was always crazy about). Despite this, I would never even dream of cheating on my husband but as time went on I started finding Dante more and more attractive. This reached the point where I found myself fantasizing about him. After a while whenever I saw Dante I would give him a hug whenever we said hello or goodbye, and I looked forward to those hugs as they would practically make me melt.



Dante had a girlfriend named Susan, and pretty soon the four of us were frequently hanging out together. The size differential between the two of them was notable, as she was a foot shorter than him and couldn’t have weighed more than 100 pounds. One could easily tell that Susan was completely smitten with Dante, and it’s not too much of an exaggeration to say that she waited on him hand and foot. For example, even though they didn’t live together Susan came over two or three times a week to make Dante dinner and to clean his condo.



As time went on Dante and I would flirt with one another, sometimes right in front of Michael, Susan, or both. It was completely harmless and to be honest, both Dante and I were the dominant personalities in our relationships. Then one night the four of us went out to a nightclub and I had a too much to drink. I asked Susan if it was OK if I danced with Dante, and when we were on the floor and away from our partners I pulled Dante close to me and started rubbing my breasts against his chest. Dante was taken aback, and even moreso when I told him to think about that later when he was screwing Susan, who I cruelly referred to as a “charter member of the itty-bitty titty committee”, since Susan was so small-chested. Then when I gave Dante a closer-than-usual hug goodbye, an involuntary gasp left my body and I’m sure both Michael and Susan noticed. By the time Michael and I got home I was hornier than I’d ever been in my life, but instead of jumping all over my husband I went into the bathroom and masturbated furiously while fantasizing about Dante fucking me.



By the next day I’d realized that my feelings for Dante were beginning to careen out of control. I asked myself if I’d ever sleep with him if the opportunity arose, and the answer was “probably not” when it should have been “absolutely not”. I vowed to make it a point not to put myself in a situation where temptation could take over, as I didn’t want to be the kind of woman that would cheat on her husband.



Things cooled off between Dante and I for a few weeks, while Michael and I prepared to take a vacation in Maine. We rented a three bedroom beach house for a week and invited all of our friends to join us. Unfortunately it rained almost all week and no one ventured north to join us. I quickly became bored with the beach and a house with nothing more entertaining than a television that didn’t even have cable. We had the place until Sunday and we both had to return to work on Monday morning. I asked Michael if we could just leave on Saturday and spend the weekend relaxing at home before returning to work on Monday. He didn’t want to, but in the end I insisted.



That was until Dante showed up on Friday night, with Susan conspicuously absent.



The three of us spent the night hanging out in the living room, talking and drinking frozen Pina Coladas. Once again I got a bit tipsy, and while giving Dante a hug goodnight I grazed one of my hands over his ass. I went to bed with Michael but got up about fifteen minutes later to watch TV in the living room, all while hoping that Dante would come out and join me. He didn’t, and I found myself tempted to go into the bedroom he was sleeping in, say hello, and see what happened next. Instead I settled for another masturbating session in the bathroom, and a sense of guilt that settled in the next morning.



For the trip I’d brought a black bikini that was pretty revealing, but all week I’d stuck to a more conservative one-piece bathing suit. In a textbook case of bargaining and rationalizing, I’d decided that while I wasn’t going to cheat on my husband, I definitely wanted Dante to notice me, and to find me attractive and desirable. That would be enough to keep me happy, and I picked our day at the beach with Dante to wear my black bikini.



I’d never seen Dante without a shirt on before, but in a beach setting I’d finally get my chance. Dante did not disappoint, with a muscular chest and arms and a tight, flat stomach. As I peered through my sunglasses as to not make it obvious that I was staring, I attempted to memorize the image before me, with plans of spending several nights masturbating to it.



Then I did something I’ve never done before- I lowed my stare and tried to get a look at how big Dante’s penis was. He was wearing a pair of baggy beach shorts, but it definitely looked like he was packing something bigger than average in them. As I looked up at my husband, who wasn’t muscular and was developing a bit of a gut, I felt a tinge of distain.



The three of us wrapped up our day on the ocean, showered and went out to lunch. It was at the restaurant that Michael made an incredible suggestion- that Dante drive me home with him that afternoon while Michael enjoyed one more day at the beach. I said that Dante didn’t have to go through the trouble, but he said there was no trouble since he was driving home anyway and we lived in the same building.



But I knew there would be trouble we drove me home together! This was the exact sort of situation I knew I needed to stay away from. I practically begged for them to forget about the idea, but neither of them were budging. Michael insisted that I take the extra day that I had been asking for, and Dante was intent on driving me home. As I packed up my things I was feeling an odd pairing of dread and anticipation. I kept telling myself to promise not to do anything with Dante, but in the end I just couldn’t make that promise.



Dante and I got in his car and settled in for the ride home, which figured to be a little over an hour. My emotions were tumbling around in my head, as part of me was screaming not to be at all flirty during this trip, while part of me still desperately wanted this man’s attention.



If Dante was interested in me at all, he definitely did a good job hiding it. We chatted lightly while he focused on the road, not even laying an eye on me the entire time. I was starting to feel completely rejected and turned toward him in my seat, inching as close to him as I could be without making contact. But he didn’t seem to even notice. Finally he asked if it was OK to pull over and grab a soda at an upcoming rest area, which I was fine with.



As we walked toward the store…I don’t even know how it happened, but suddenly we were walking arm-in-arm. I rationalized that it wasn’t anything over the top, just a friend escorting his best friend’s wife around. Then after Dante bought the sodas I gently put my hand on his back while quietly telling him something, and we wound up walking back to the car with our arms around one another’s shoulders. He opened the car door for me, and as soon as we both got in we leaned into each other, drawn together as if we were magnets, and began kissing. And this guy was an awesome kisser.



As our tongues rolled around in each other’s mouths a voice inside of me was screaming Stop it! STOP IT!!! What you’re doing isn’t right! But I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed the back of Dante’s head, continuing to kiss him as passionately as I could, knowingly betraying my husband.



Then Dante suddenly pulled away and said we’d better get going. I felt completely weird as we drove away. Did I have the willpower to stop, or were we going to go even further down a dangerous path once we arrived home in a half-hour?







Part Two will be posted soon. Please leave feedback! :)

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