How I Acquired My Taste For Fucking Other Men's Wives - Sex Stories

How I Acquired My Taste For Fucking Other Men's Wives

I was lucky, I know that. Back in the late 80’s when I went up to university, things were easier, financially speaking, and on top of that I lodged with a couple my parents knew well. I wouldn’t say they were close friends of the family, but they were happy enough to accept a weekly cheque for rent which was more or less nominal. As a consequence, I lived very cheaply indeed, with more than enough money for my needs, which meant I could put some by for a rainy day. I wasn’t a party animal, although I socialized. I wasn’t a big drinker, so I didn’t spend as much money on alcohol as my peers either. The one downside to my living arrangements was that I was reluctant to bring girls “home”. I don’t mean to imply that my hosts would have objected, or that they in any way made me feel that certain things were “not done”, just that the area was quite posh, and I didn’t want to queer my pitch by being seen in the company of scantily dressed girls at strange hours, and being accused of bringing down the tone of the area. My room was a converted garage, which had its own entrance, and also a connecting door to a scullery, which in turn led to the kitchen and then to the rest of the house, so it wasn’t as if I couldn’t easily have people over without Greg and Emily being any the wiser. I can think of two occasions when I did do that, but for the most part I was happy enough going home with the girls, so that I could up and leave whenever I felt like it. I’ve always been a quick ...

... learner, and a good judge of character. I quickly learned to see, at a glance, which girls were likely to slap you in the face for trying your luck, and which were happy enough to let you have your way with them, without being too bothered if you called them again or not. Greg and Emily were OK. Both had high powered jobs; he was something in the City and she was Chief Advisor on something or other to some local authority or other. There was a bit of an age gap between them; he was a little north of 45, and she was about 40. Being wholly focused on their careers, they’d never had kids. Thankfully they weren’t the kind of people who were likely to treat me as some kind of substitute for the children they didn’t have. Having finally struck out on my own, free to make my own choices, the last thing I needed was a kind of pseudo-parental relationship. On the contrary, Greg was interested in the ideas I was working on – possibly with an eye to some kind of financial gain. That never materialized, but I like to think he recognized my obvious intelligence. He treated me more like an equal than any man his age ever had. Between them, Greg and Emily were, in fact, very accommodating. Far from expecting me to keep largely to my own quarters, they positively encouraged me to borrow their books and watch TV with them. Since both were high flyers, they spent a lot of time away from home, and I had the run of the place. Relative solitude didn’t bother me. I’ve always been able to amuse myself. ...