It had been a long and tiresome day for me. I had left Terrence's place as reluctantly as I usually do, returned to get my car at the YMCA, and stopped by a Whole Foods not far from home to purchase some items before driving home. My daughter had dropped by, and she and her kids were home awaiting my belated arrival. It was a good thing I had stayed away, or else I'd have been stuck with babysitting duty as usual; today was one of those few days I considered myself fortunate, though I did get to spend some pleasurable hours with my grandkids before they left. Richard hadn't missed me much, though he appeared sour because his favourite team had lost the game he had previously watched.
The rest of the day went like clockwork: I made dinner, and we later conversed about everything else while watching a Netflix movie. I had almost blocked Terrence from my mind until I showered that night and recalled sublime moments spent with him. Even he had been disinclined to me leaving, which was surprising. It let me know how much he desired me.
Later that evening, Richard and I lay in bed, about to retire for the night. Usually, that's when I like to catch up on some reading, anything to make my eyes weary for the oncoming sleep. Richard was perusing a newspaper while listening to jazz music on his phone. We were both lost to our world when suddenly he closed his newspaper, took off his reading glasses and turned to me.
"So, Erica, when are you going to tell me about him?"
I turned to him, baffled. "What?"
He didn't say anything but continued to stare at me. There was more to his stare. It drove a wedge of fear up my spine and gave me a foreboding glimpse of what was coming that I was ill-prepared for.
"What are you talking about, Rich?"
"I'm talking about the black guy you've been fucking for several weeks now," he said. "You know who I'm talking about, Erica, let's not play games."
My heart skipped an instant beat. This must be a dream, I thought. No way could this possibly be real.
"Terrance," Richard said. "That's his name, right? Terrance. You want me to tell you where he lives, too?"
I closed my book and let my feet fall flat on the bed while he patiently waited for my response. My initial thought was to craft some quick lie — anything to stall for time — but the look in Richard's eyes told me that was futile. He would know I was lying, and that would make things worse.
"How long have you known?" I asked.
"I've known for a while," he said. "You weren't always as smart as you thought, Erica. You went to see him today, right?"
"I went swimming," I said. "At the YMCA, like I said I was going."
"Right. And then you happened to head over to Terrence's place."
"That's the way it ended, yes."
"It wouldn't be the first time." Richard looked away momentarily before speaking: "We've been through this before, Erica. You promised you weren't going to go behind my back again."
"You promised to take good care of my needs, Richard. You said you would be there for me sexually. Where did that promise go?"
"You know about my debilitating problem, Erica. Don't play dumb like you aren't aware. I'm not the man I used to be ten or even five years ago, but that doesn't give you any right to play around without telling me about it."
I swung my feet off the bed and paced the room, using the little time to gather my strength before turning towards him.
"Let's say I'd told you about Terrence before he and I started, Richard. Would you have agreed to us meeting for just sex and nothing else?"
It was a reach, I know, but I had no other option.
"I would have given it some good thought," he replied carefully.
"It's funny, but anytime you use those words, it means no. Tell the truth, Rich. You never would have agreed to me having someone on the side. You would have been apoplectic with rage if you knew."
"I should be apoplectic right now, but I'm not," he said with a tight voice. "Don't try deflecting from the issue here, Erica. You're the one who's messed up by cheating on me, and you've no idea how upset I am about that. How would you feel if I'd told our daughter about your infidelity? What sort of mother would that make you?"
I stopped in my tracks. Yes, I suddenly realised the truth — I had messed up, and I had been somewhat selfish not to have told him, but for adequate reasons, knowing he would have compelled me to end my relationship with Terrence. It wasn't the first time we had been involved in such a dilemma before. Once there had been a time that Richard had no problem sharing me with other men. But then, he'd begun having kidney issues that grew terrible over time. It cut our swinging lifestyle abruptly short. Where I had wanted to continue, feeling sexually neglected for years, Richard decided he was out of the game, and thus I, too, had no choice but to discontinue.
But that was until I encountered Terrence. He had renewed my sexual curiosity in ways I had never thought before. Overnight, I had gone from being a sex-starved mature wife to a horny Gilf.
"Why was it Terrence, Erica?" asked Richard. "I'm curious to know whatever attracted him to you."
"Wouldn't you like to know, Rich? He made me feel . . . special. Special in ways I hadn't felt before. How long has it been since you and I last had fun together?"
"Years," Richard admitted. "And I'm sorry about that, Erica. But you know what's ailing me — it's not something I wished upon myself."
"I don't blame you for falling sick, Rich. What happened to you could have happened to anyone. I had needs, darling, and I felt neglected the entire time I cared for you. I know you've suffered, but do I also need to suffer, too?"
"But you could have told me," he complained and beat his fist on the bed. "You could have been honest with me, Erica."
"I could have, yes, and I apologise for that, honey. But like I said, I was afraid you'd have said no."
"Maybe I would have said no, but then I would have thought about it. I'd like to know how you met him. Can you be honest with me about that?"
"Sure," I said and returned to the bed. "If you must know, I was having a bad day when he and I met . . ."
"It was a Saturday in August last year when I met Terrence. I remember it like yesterday. I had dropped you off at the hospital where you needed some test work done; the doctor said he would finish with you in an hour, so I had time to burn. I went to a restaurant not far from the hospital and sat there waiting. At some point, tears filled my eyes, and I started to cry. Terrence appeared out of nowhere and offered me a handkerchief. He sat down and asked what was bothering me. I told him about your situation. He told me to take heart, saying it wasn't the end of the world and that you'd likely pull through. He somehow got me laughing, feeling buoyant about myself. I returned to pick you up, and the doctor said you'd shown some improvement; I took it as a good sign that Terrence had gotten me feeling optimistic regarding your health.
Weeks passed, and I drove you back for more check-ups and went to the restaurant. I wasn't thinking about Terrence, nor had any idea I'd run into him again, but there he was. He said he worked for an insurance company, and his office was across the street; he was on his lunch break. We got to talking. He got me laughing, made me feel good about myself, and then we exchanged phone numbers.
He and I talked later that evening while you slept. Everything sounded innocent at the time — nothing serious or overtly sexual — he was like a genuine friend. I was a near-emotional wreck then and I had nobody to talk to. You were weak much of the time while you recuperated — you couldn't have known what I was going through even if I'd told you, and then, you probably would have laughed, thinking I was comparing your problems with mine. That was how I felt, and I wanted someone to be like a friend to me. That turned out to be Terrence.
I called him days later, and we decided to meet for lunch. I told him about how I was feeling and how bad I felt that you were ill. The longer we talked, the more I knew I wanted something more from him."
"Was that the first time you screwed him?"
"No," I said. "That happened days later after you'd gotten way better."
"Where did you two fuck the first time?"
His cock grew hard in my mouth. I found myself moaning like I was the happiest woman ever.
It happened on a rainy Tuesday. We met for lunch, but I wanted something more; Terrence knew it, and we got into my car and drove to some quiet spot off the main highway. We started kissing the instant I switched off the engine. Minutes later, we unclipped our seatbelts and manoeuvred ourselves into the backseat.
Terrence unzipped his pants, and I knelt beside him with my butt pressed against the side window. I sniffed his prick seconds before he whipped it out and offered it to me to suck on.
Suck on it, I did.
He tasted good.
I wanted more of his cock, so I sucked him harder.
His cock grew hard in my mouth. I found myself moaning like I was the happiest woman ever. I felt his fingers probing past my panties, feeling against my wet pussy. The feel of his fingers reminded me of how sex-starved I was — I'd never been so eager to fuck as on that rainy afternoon.
I lifted my skirt, pulled my panties to the side, slid across his thigh and straddled him. His prick pressed against my thigh. Terrence adjusted himself, and I helped to insert his prick inside me. His hands pawed my butt and slid my panties over my ass cheeks while I rode him. The car jerked against us — it was tough riding him in that cramped backseat — I reminded myself that next time, we would do it in his car instead.
I worked my booty against his cock as hard as I could. I breathed against his face while we kissed. Our breathing got heavy, and the back windows got misty. But the feel of his cock inside me was incredible. I kept jerking my butt up and down and then side to side. I could feel my cunt creaming over his prick. We gasped harder the longer we fucked.
"Did he cum inside you?"
"No," I answered. "We stopped before he did. I slid off him and jerked his cock till he came in my hand."
"What did you then do?" Richard asked.
"I licked his cum off my palm," I said.
"What happened next?"
"We waited until we felt better, then we drove back to the restaurant, said our goodbyes, and went our separate ways."
"And that was the start of your relationship with Terrence."
"Yes, it was," I said. "Is that all you want to know, Rich? Can we call it a night now?"
"Just one last thing, and I don't want any arguments about this: I want to meet Terrence. Good night."
He switched off his bedside light, and curled under the covers with his back towards me and fell asleep. I watched him for a while before switching off my bedside light and letting the night take me.