Oh, MY! Jim loved my choice of sexy for the day.

Yesterday. The 4" black stiletto heels were preselected. I opted for "none of the above" in external slut gear. He heartily approved of my choice of high-cut pink lacy panties with its matching bra. (I am all about matchy-matchy lately, hubby has even noticed and commented, and seemed to wonder about that.)

Wait, my perceptive reader....you ask, "If you weren't going to post the menu here and even if he stopped by unless he has X-ray specs, how could he possibly know what you were wearing?"

No I didn't email him the details. I just told him flat out when he asked. In person.

Really!

A handsome guy wandered up.(Well he reads this, if I call him fugly I'll hurt his feelings! j/k!). He was wearing a contractor badge and had that you look familiar look on his face. I thought maybe copy machine guy or maybe the contractors that were in a couple of months back on the cafeteria expansion. Dressed kind of like them, blue dress-style shirt but more durable? Tan khakis.

"Marge.." he opened with, "How have you been?" right there with my cubbie bunnies peeking a look which they dropped and back to work when I shot them 'the look'. I still didn't immediately think Jim when he strode up confidently. (Later he admitted he was dry-mouthed, heavily rehearsed and thinking this was a BAD IDEA).

Holding our his fairly soft hand he shook and said, "Jim....You probably don't remember me, I used to be in I.T. here and got hired away by a contractor when I tired of fixing your computer crashes?"

"Oh sure I remember you..." ad libbing "You here to see Bill? I remember you guys were always hanging out in your nerdy ways..."(pulled a name out of thin air, and nope, not a glimmer of recognition from the past...we don't think we ever crossed paths before)

"Yep, good old Bill, and Charley and you remember Cindy-Lou-Who right?" Later he admitted to making that up too..couple of improv artists are we.

His back to my little charges who were definitely eaves dropping and noticeably so, he slipped me a note:

What are you wearing?

...

Oh wow. I felt my modest cream blouse and sensible length skirt just fade from view. It was like that dream when you get to work and look down and realize you are dressed only in your underwear. The date night underwear. Like that.

So I said, "Oh you have to tease Cindy about something..let me give you a note to take to her.." My note said:

Pink panties and a matching bra..wanna see?

"Yeah right!" he said..."Cindy will get a chuckle out of that!"

"Oh wait I forgot..." I stalled. "Here." I added:

Meet me out front by the stairs that come down from the second level. 11:00am sharp.

He stalled deer in the headlights look, pretended to re-read the note, said "hmmm"
set his face a little, deciding and said. "Sure, I'll tell her."

I should have made an excuse to leave right then. I got nothing done for the next two hours and forty three minutes. I was sure that I had a crimson blush the whole times. I imagined I got speculative looks from some of my people, but no one said anything or asked anything..I made up a dozen back stories just waiting for the questions. I even checked my color in a shy metal paperclip holder and seemed normal but felt flush.

I slipped out early when no one seemed to be looking my way. I did the whole grab a bundle of papers and walk fast move as cover. I had to be careful laying them on the bathroom sink while I freshened my make-up. (OK that's a lie I din;t freshen it I slutted it up. Not full evening, or lady of the evening look, but lip liner for a little more pout, three more strokes of mascara then needed and a little smokey smudge at the eye corners...I thought "I got to remember to de-slut when I get back." I didn't but if anyone noticed they didn't say anything.

I realized I couldn't take the papers back so in violation of company policy I took them out of the building in my hand. I had my shoulder bag but it wasn't big enough to put them in without folding them up...silly little details seem to come to me...

Jim pulled up in his car and off we went...

...and then we came back.

I KNOW I am SOOOOO sorry..but he reads this and he's shy and interesting and faithful and well I scribbled something and won't to get it right and he demanded editorial control before posting...tomorrow I promise. But now you know why I was too busy on my lunch hour to post yesterday. I am I forgiven?

Update for today's post

(edit: Jim ~for whom I am on this week-long campaign of slutty attire to lure him out of hiding~ said he loves the sound of the shoes, has a shoe thing himself. I have agreed to wear nothing but them for the rest of the week until he gets a chance to slip into the building to voyeur them)


Added:
Good thing classic black pumps go with everything but it does limit my sartorial options. I already can;t reasonably bare midriff in the workplace, less the young sluts on my team outshine me, and well it's just unseemly for a 40+ boss lady. Further the 'one slutty thing at a time" means that the heels and a mini, or the heels and deep decolletage are out as well.

I will have to fall back on the "accidental" slutty signals. Mostly snug fit. Like "OOps is it cold in here of does this unlined bra and thin twin-set sweater not disguise the location of my erect nipples?" The "Oh, dear did the whale tail of my thong show when I bent over in these medium rise jeans?" is a good one but you can't pull it off all day, or you get a crick in your back form bending over all the time. Panty lines are sexy as I understand it from guys despite how hard we try to avoid them. No panty lines when there definitely should be some cause consternation as well. Camel toe is hard to pull off in the office, especially except on casual Fridays and I usually wear jeans and ones tight enough for that are hard to sit down in.

I've thought about it and decided I will not be posting my attire here for Jim to see lest he merely wait till my lunchtime furtive post and choose to stop by (or not) only AFTER he has seen the menu. I am damned sexy in anything and he will take what he gets when he finally deigns to lower himself to peep at me. So there!

Jim gives a clue.....

Jim has warned me about going online from work, even from my own laptop. My cellphone is internet so-called capable, but its a PIA to use so I don't generally except checking email. (Both my "real" email and my super secret one. I don't use my super secret one much from there for fear that I will forget to clear everything and the title alone would raise eyebrows if hubby saw...)

OH! that reminds me a girl at work caught her hubby with a SECOND cellphone and so, obviously he is busted....people t work were talking about that some seemd to be a little too aware for the idea which made me wonder about a few people, that ws interesting to think about. One guy mentioned a (chip?) or something where you can have two cellphones in one? sounded worth looking into, don;t really want to ask the guy about it or he would of course wonder about me...hmm or maybe asking might be interesting..be a pretty subtle way of announcing, hey, I mess around...help me get a secret phone and I'll give you my number..;))

Off track, here. Jim has a smarty phone of some sort. he is online just about anytime I am...I asked him about it, does wifey suspect, isn't he risking getting busted at work, (that's when he said he was on his phone on the web) I assumed he was only online that way from work.

The other day he lost his phone, and was worried he hadn't cleared everything and maybe his fucks-like-a-pornstar-wifey would find it first. It stayed lost for like 3 days. The second day I realized that he was still online during work hours more often than just on breaks. I very cleverly deduced that he has some way of avoiding the I.T. Weanies snooping on him.

It took a while but I then connected the dots...he IS an I.T. Weanie! Now this place is huge but the I.T. department is a pretty small part of it. I looked in the directory and there is like maybe 15 guys. Ive met several of them who seem to find reasons to climb under my desk when do something to my computer and they mostly seem pretty young. Jim is like my age so??? Process of elimination.

I triumphantly told him that I had practically unmasked him and proudly told him what I had figured out. He asked me not to pursue this..(What? The worst I was going to do was approach each member of the department in turn and offer a BJ, the one that turns me down in loyalty to wifey would be Jim! ~kidding~ well, kinda.)

He gave me a bunch of what if's and finally came out with it. He doesn't actually work for the same company I do. That floored me...he knew all the right lingo, described things that you almost had to be here to know, and then there was the comment he made about my sexy red shoes being a little iffy for work...

At first I thought he has to be psychic or just lying about not working there because there was no frigging way!

He admitted that he actually did work her for quite a while, was in fact an I.T. Weinie, but got hired away by someone that had contracts with some of our equipment. Like outsourcing without the fun accent.

He explained that that was why he answered my hubbie's "hit on my hotwife" ad. Since it mentioned the company, he could picture all the people there in his mind and wondered what it would be like if it turned out to be someone he already knew from when he worked there. Would it be someone he had 'noticed'? Would it be a complete shock? So he played along with Hubby, to try to get hubby to give more information. When hubby quit responding he wasn't sure if Hubby had found someone else or got busted, or lost interest...(I think Hubby thought I suspected, but I really didn;t who would its too weird)

What about the shoes??? He admitted that after we had kind of hit it off, he made an excuse to visit a friend who works here and sort of "got lo9st" wandering on purpose through my area. (OOO my own personal stalker I teased.)

He said he just wanted to see, and he was sorry and , yada yada ..I told him I was flattered and intrigued and he could stalk me anytime...I mean hell, he helped me set up the blog, reads it all comments to me, makes kinky suggestions...sort of actually fucking me, he is pretty much issued an all-access pass. (P.S. if you ever feel the need to stray Jim, you definitely DO have all access..wink wink.. - wait did I say that out loud?? ~Sorry about causing you some Catholic guilt...~ No I'm not!)

So I got him to agree that sometime next week he will stop by. He wouldn't promise to say Hi. (Too, nervous, too married, too bad..:))

So I need to get busy planning something slutty to wear for each day of the week to entice him into either taking a chance or at least drooling to give himself away.

We had a very interesting chat about flirting, faithfulness, cheating, pre-planned vs. "just happened" and guilt. I'm going to ask him If I can post it because you can see the little wiggle-room, and why he is careful about the slippery slope.

A First-Class Fuck.

Starting in a first class hotel probably helped, I think. I thought about that before and once during, and it felt, kind of mercenary to have that thought. Like the girl that goes out with the orthodontist's son because he will pick her up in Daddy's black Porsche 928.

But it isn't that. I'm not putting out because he is validating my worth by spending money. I am putting out because I met him, flirted with him, got to know him, wondered how he'd be sexually, fantasized about him sexually, and finally asked if he wouldn't mind fucking me. So it's about the sex.

But clean (600 thread count-ish?) sheets, a nice view of a beautiful, room service, (pretending we had nothing to hide just the Mr. and Mrs. made it seem true..we WERE a couple at least for then), really good triple distilled Irish Whiskey (not my usual drink but he explained that quality is key in enjoying such spirits..when in Rome..)all conspired to give this affair an air of legitimacy.

I had spun a tale for hubby the be-careful-what-you-wish-for cuckold of me being a hooker and all the filthy degrading things the client "made me" do. In fairness I explained to him how hot I got at playing the whore, how wet his insistent violations of every orifice made me. And thinking of it that way did make me incredibly horny. The husk in my voice telling him this tale of debauchery was genuine.

The reality was not nearly as athletically kinky, but just a leg-quiveringly erotic in it's own way.

I was dressed in a plausible I'm-in-town-on-business suit, with my planned kinky underwear on beneath. I thought check-in would feel slutty. I was sure CHEATER would be written all over my expression, and his. He seemed practiced, and if my twinges of excited slutty guilt showed the very friendly, sharp girl at the counter registered nothing.

In the elevator on the way up, no bags but my small clutch, I teased, "You seemed pretty practiced at that."

"What handing over a corporate card, or the part where I asked for a room with a nice view?"

Punching him I said, "No the whole fuck a married woman in broad daylight in a fancy hotel practiced."

"I'm pretty sure you are not the first married woman to be fucked in this hotel, some even by their husband.. Why would you assume that she would have assumed that our rings don't signify fidelity to each other?"

Wow...a lot in that statement.

"Besides. I put Mr. and Mrs. Smith down on the register!"

"You DID NOT...by the way how do you get away with it as far as showing up on the card and so on?"

"Well I normally don't do this sort of thing here in town, but road trips are a thing of the past with my last promotion so there is a bit of risk this time. Since I am the one that approves expenses, I'll shift it to a guy that actually is in town tomorrow, I'll probably book him into this hotel to keep the billing simple..you should probably check out before he gets here though unless you have a thing for drug pushers in general.." (He works in sales for a pharmaceutical company. He makes that joke a lot. At first I wondered if that was a 'hey I can get you drugs' ploy but doesn't seem to be. Just what he does.

I'm starting to turn this into a novel complete with dialog, and didn't plan to get into the whole, then I said, then he put his hand, then he said...thing...

I was trying to capture the essence of the experience. I read I think in Jessica's Blog not exactly Haiku clearly prose...I don't know poetry styles well enough to describe it but she captured an experience (was it maybe a fantasy?) with a couple of words on each line the way you would in a Haiku. (It wasn't I counted the syllables......wow way off track here...)

For example I had the hooker me forced to her knees by a handful of hair before she got in the door. He led me by the hand to the bed, sat me there and then went and opened the drapes. I felt radiant and expectant with sunlight on my face.

His hand in my hair just adjusted the tilt of my head as he gave a long soulful, deep, wet kiss. That was followed my more kissing. Deep exploring getting to know you melding kisses. I hadn't made out like that since high school.

I couldn't picture how his first moves would be, how I would strip, or be undressed, how to pose to best accentuate my tits and minimize my belly.

None of that mattered, once the whole getting to know you through nonverbal oral communication started, mouths and tongues just went where they went and the brain fuzzily caught glimpses as I went along for the delicious ride.

His lips and tongue and gently grazing teeth found my nipple. I wasn't sure when or how I'd lost my cute snug button-up Liz Claiborne knit top, but I'm guessing it was a button at a time. His fingers? Mine? I don't know, but I remember being glad I had chosen the pretty bra that was folded down a bit under my ample right breast.

I blushed a bit when his roving hands found first the garter straps, stroked the tops of my stockings and then found my wet folds with no fabric as barrier. Going panty-less seemed kinky sexy when I got ready, and sort of silly when luxuriating like a grownup in a classy room.

He smiled and said, "What a sexy surprise!" which was perfect.

I mostly let him lead until as he was kissing down my belly with clear intentions, I thought about the sequence I had imagined and told him, "Wait.."

"Me first" I said and went after his belt. It was only then I realized that I looked like the victim of several bad hands in a game of strip poker and he had barely his shoes off. Puzzled I recalled my hands and his warm skin, realized I had reached under and into and somehow he'd lost the hold of his belt and the button on his pants...

I wriggled him out of his pants, and insisted on the socks. "You may NOT fuck me with your socks on!" Ever agreeable, he took them off in a mock strip tease and threw them at (as if out) the window. I laughed out loud as trite as that is these days.

I couldn't help notice that he wore the same brand (or at least the same stripe) shorts as Hubby and giggled realizing hubby had only the pair he was wearing along with the underwear I wasn't wearing that was in his suitcase...

Marcus (for that is Early Bird's name) asked what was funny. Despite having talked to Jim (my co-worker) about the whole panty thing, it seemed suddenly disloyal to set him up in that way. To encourage him to wear them, then giggle about it while cuckolding him. I mean I know that is how it's done and he might even find it arousing for all I know, but still it was a line, and I kept it to myself.

I lied a little and told Marcus I was thinking about texting hubby and telling him how my day was going. That wasn't a total lie. I had someone's blog where she did that sort of thing giving hubby updates from a date..(that particular cuck loved that. If I find the post I'll link it)

He said, "Well you have your hands kind of full you want to dictate and I'll type it in for you?"

I was groping his engorged cock with both hands through his jockeys. "No good. Can't dictate, my mouth is going to be busy." I grinned as I gently eased the waistband from being hung-up on the tip. It was a very nice cock as they go. Laying on his back it looks best I think. Standing it looks like a handle usually, (which is why men are so easily led by them) Heaven help then if the have to move about erect it looks awkward as hell.

Anyway I hear size descriptions and such in a lot of posts and I figure him for about the same size as hubby's. Hubby passes and sometimes surpasses the "dollar bill test" so maybe 6-7 inches? About "just right" for me. Much longer and I gotta watch positions. I remember this one skinny long distance runner I fucked a couple of times much to his apparent amazement. He actually hurt me once with my legs over his shoulders...I wondered at the time how much was too much and actually got out a folder I had in my book bag that had a ruler printed on the edge. Apparently 7 1/2 inches deep is where my cervix starts...well enough of the anatomy lesson...who brought that up?

He had thoughtfully shaved his balls..(Oh that sounds first class all graphic but how else do you describe it? Smooth pink testicles?) He was circumcised. It was kind of pretty. Kind of a nice mushroom shape to the little helmet. Soft point then flaring gently. Throbbing vein down the length, but that might have been my fault.

I took my time, not using any particular practiced or remembered technique. Just kissing and nuzzling and licking and engulfing and a little bobbing. He considerately warned me of what I already knew, that I was holding him on knife edge, suckling a little watch the smooth pink testicles tighten, ease off and back...I was really enjoying myself in its own right.

"You keep that up it's going to go off!"

"You promise?" with a real long especially lascivious slurp. "Just in case, is this re-loadable? I mean does your company stock those little blue pills?"

"As a matter of fact, I'm going to recommend the boys in R&D contact you about your lips, I think they might be the next thing, and our patent is getting close to that 'we gotta find a new drug mark!"

Flattery will get you an appreciative full-service finish, and I did, and he did. I thought about my 'new rule' and went in for a kiss. He was just as enthusiastic as he had been and actually said "Wow, thanks that was great!"

"Anytime." I said, and I think I mean that. We still had I figured more than a couple of hours before he had to be anywhere and hubby would be assuming I was at work still so I wasn't worried about "my turn." But he was.

He still had the uniquely male post-coital goofy look on his face as he tried to reposition me and him to return the favor...

"No rush, we have lots of time to get these re-filled," I said tickling those smooth pink....

He was actually still twitching and a little more trickled out onto his belly. I dipped fingertips in the small trail and brought them to my lips tenderly savoring. He visibly shuddered.

He seemingly distractedly was tracing fingers up and down my slit, and it took not much at all to get me parted and a couple of fingers in and exploring. He was more thorough than my last gyno exam and gently found ALL the right spots. It helps that I was soaked.

I wasn't sure exactly how or when as I drifted towards bliss but at some point his fingers were joined by a thumb on my clit and a probing tongue. He paid me back for the teasing and it was wonderful...right up to the edge and back and higher each time till I was just riding this crest..one long wave it felt like...part of it was technique, but looking down at his face and seeing not hubby was more of a guilty pleasure than I expected...at one point later he mentioned that I had his hair firmly in grip and was bucking up into his face. I din;t recall that..

"Good thing it wasn't a toupee!" he smiled.

When it came time for actual penetration, he had come up with a condom. I felt like an idiot..I had some in my purse, was just sure start to finish I would be safe, even wanted to try the whole roll it on with your mouth trick, but I hadn't even thought of one...I'm glad he did, and told him so. Oral is risky in and of itself but slightly less so than what was to come. I didn't like thinking about the harsh realities of risk in fucking a guy that admittedly fucks a lot of women.

We talked about it, and he said he does get tested regularly but I would be dumb to take him at his word. He says for him it is less risky he feels as he has less exposure. He says its risky but most of the women he has been with it is an anomaly for them, a fling they have with the traveling salesman only to bury their guilty secret in renewed marital bliss. He says he has a few he keeps in contact with and from time to time, well fucks.

Weirdly I felt a twinge of jealousy. About a man I was fucking behind my husbands back.

Speaking of, condom finally and a little awkwardly applied at some point he entered me, It was all part of the whole fluid coupling though so it isn't like fireworks went off at that moment and I thought make a note to describe later...it felt great and full filling and guilty and kinky and warm and human and well great.

I do remember at one point where he was really pounding into me with that great sound of bodies slapping together literally, and reaching a frenzy not so much, I think of that he was getting close or chasing an orgasm but I was getting vocal and he was picking up the pace and over and over again, like it was a race to the finish...I saw a single bead of sweat trickle down his nose and fall to my chest..It looked to me like one of those slow motion camera things where the water drop explodes or the glass breaks or something. And the whole time was like that my mind recording every detail at 1000 frames a second but only in little glimpses and snatches. I would get caught in a reverie and hold a frame while the room and events swirled by.

Midst all this I did send a couple of flirty texts to hubby which he later told me were very hot and extremely discomfiting in his seminar. I'll have to go back and see what I sent.

He did not have sexual relations with that woman...

Not once..

Me being the woman, and Jim reprising the role of a frustratingly more moral Clinton.

We were chatting yesterday after he confessed to being very uncomfortable in his chair at work after using his smart phone to read my last entry.

"I can help you with that." I chirped referencing his discomfort about sitting in a snug fitting pair pf pants, yet embarrassed to stand up.

"I'm sure you could. And I'm sure you'd wear me out. And I'm sure I'd look guilty when I got home."

We discussed at length the reasoning behind his fidelity. All good reasons really.

He is happy with his wife sexually. Describes her as imaginative, fun, multiply and easily orgasmic. (Bitch!)

He is happy with her as companion, described their first year of marriage with a broken TV as the happiest, reading in companionable silence.

He admitted that he doesn't handle guilt well. Apparently one time he 'came close' as he puts it to consummating an emotional affair he told her. (Dumb ass) He told himself he isn't going to put her through that again. (so don't tell, DUMB ASS!) On balance he gets a pass here, maybe.

"What would you change?" I probed. (pun intended!)

He admitted that her housekeeping skills are sub par to say the least.

"It's not that I expected a maid, its just the willful defiance in her eyes when she watches me notice the chaos. The way she shows disrespect for my own efforts at housekeeping by undoing the work I put in. I can come home, do some dishes so I can cook a meal, clean up after myself and come home the next day to see those same pans in the sink again. She seems to want me to come down as the angry dad to MAKE her do it so she can sulk and I refuse." I thought this was actually apt so I asked him if I could clip and post it.

"Have you said it that way to her?"

"Well, in therapy, she complains that she detests therapy because it seems to boil down to her being a lousy housekeeper." He tries a brave face again.."Did I mention she fucks like a porn star?"

Changing the subject I brought up again my unreasonable (his term for it) sexual attraction to him. He pointed out that although he admitted sneaking a peek at me, I have no idea what he looks like. We've been over that I haven't even asked for a description. I freely admit that i will fuck him 5 ways from Sunday, even on a Sunday (in a church if need be.), Sight unseen.

This led to a discussion about male vs. female attraction. Went nowhere. He's a guy. 'nuff said.

We mutually agreed that our relationship, (it clearly at this point is a relationship; weird though it is) is on many levels inappropriate for either of us as married people to engage in. I am less constrained than him because I feel justified by my hubby's behavior, and the fact that I have already committed honest to god adultery - yummy. Also he comes from more repressive background...come to think of it he and hubby could hang out.

(wait did I say yummy out loud?)

I point out that his encouraging me to cuckold my husband in the stereotypical hubby in the corner watching was really a mirror of his own desires. I asked about how he felt about me blowing that boy in the parking lot. He admitted that it appealed to the voyeur in him to hear about it.

We explored, I probed. His chastity belt held up (so far.) We talked about what he would and wouldn't be able to rationalize. He, unlike Clinton would consider a BJ sexual relations. Ditto cigar or even cigarillo penetration.

What about if I had dared to blow parking lot boy in our parking lot. Would he watch?

Hell yes...

What about in a hotel room? Uh, no. Why not. Too dangerous. (Flying bodily fluids?) So its a proximity thing. Hmmm... I'll respect his boundaries but I am damn sure gonna push them!

Would he watch me on cam? Maybe. Hmm progress. He points out that his home situation would make it unlikely that he and I could find a privacy window mutually, but worth thinking about methinks..

How about if we invite Wifey? Hell yes he said but unlikely. She isn't into chicks? No, he says we, like you talk about things like that but its understood as all talk.

Perfect I said, so its just details...you firm up the talk into action on your end, I'll do the same on my end. We'll plan on dressing up my husband in your wife's dirty lingerie, tie him to a chair in the corner and you and I can fuck you wife while she wears a french maid's outfit.

"OH, Low blow!" he says. "But an effective image."