Becoming A Cheating Wife (Part 2) - Sex Stories

Becoming A Cheating Wife (Part 2)

... when I stumbled into the bedroom. He sat up in bed and in the dim light I couldn’t tell what his facial expressions said about his reaction. “I’m sorry that I woke you.” “Did you have fun tonight?” His tone gave me no clue either. We had an argument that morning before work about bills, but based on his text messages after work, I thought he had moved on. “It was Lynn’s birthday so we went out for dinner.” Silence filled the room. He didn’t have to ask anything else. He knew that I would start to try fill the silence. My nervous habit. “Then we went to that new wine bar on Central.” “Is that it?” He climbed out of bed wearing only his boxers. He didn’t have the body of a Greek God, but until recently most of his work had been with his hands at construction sites and it still showed. I looked at the digital clock on the night stand. The green letters said ‘2:45.’ No wine bar would be open that late and I’m sure he knew that from my previous girls’ nights out. “We went dancing afterward.” I stood there, not sure where he would take this conversation. Unlike a lot of my previous boyfriends, I would never describe my husband as the jealous type. “Did you dance with anyone?” He closed the distance between me and the bed in a split second. “Just the girls.” I backed up and found myself trapped against the wall. This wasn’t like him at all. My heart started to beat harder. The temperature in the room jumped twenty degrees. “Just the girls?” Had he gone out to see why I was out so ...

... late? When his text messages stopped, I just assumed he had fallen asleep. “You were out pretty late.” Had he gone out and somehow found where I was? Had he seen me dancing? He didn’t need to do that. I would never cheat on him. I might bend the truth sometimes, but I would never even kiss another man. “There was one guy. It was nothing though. His friend wanted to dance with Lynn, so I danced with him.” He pinned me up against the wall. His mouth found my neck and started to kiss me. “How did you dance with him?” “Nothing happened.” He stopped kissing me and looked into my eyes. “How did you dance with him?” “It was nothing.” He didn’t move. I didn’t know whether he believed me or not. Sexually it had been nothing. However, I loved the attention. I knew that the guy wanted me. A feeling I received from my husband less and less frequently. “How did you dance?” “What do you mean?” I remembered every moment that I danced with the un-named guy, but that didn’t mean I wanted to share all of the details with my husband. It couldn’t compare to the dirty dancing younger me had done, but nothing I wanted my husband to know about either. “You know what I mean.” He pinned me against the wall. With just his boxers on, I clearly felt his rock hard cock against me. I didn’t understand. I thought he was upset with me for staying out late and dancing with another man. “Did you dance like this?” I hesitated. I didn’t know how to respond. Finally, I just nodded my head yes. He pressed harder ...