I recalled a similar topic from another board a few years ago, and I thought it would be fun to try it here. If this reads like a pornographic novel, it’s because it was that kind of experience.
It happened many years ago. I was 32 and had been married for over six years, and with my wife exclusively for a total of seven-and-a-half years. I had been faithful the whole time, unless you count a few drunken kisses at Christmas with two secretaries (remember when we had those?) at two different employers. Our only child at that time, a boy, was about a year-and-a-half old. I was the manager of a large department in the Canadian branch of a European multinational in Montréal.
One of my many departmental responsibilities was to provide training to our employees from across Canada. We gave one-week courses that lasted four-and-a-half days. It was really four long days, with a group dinner on Thursday evening, and a perfunctory Friday morning session when everyone was recovering from a hangover, myself usually included. I rarely did any of the training myself (my subordinates did that), but I hosted the dinners, and usually accompanied the guys to a bar or two afterward.
On a Thursday evening that November, we ended up at the Vieux Munich, a German beer garden that originated at Expo 67 and subsequently moved downtown. There were always large groups of people there, enjoying the ambiance and dancing to the oompapa music. I usually behaved myself (I didn’t want to set a bad example in front of a lot of witnesses, including a few of my subordinates), but that night I didn’t. (My wife and son were away that week visiting her family). There was a nearby table with around ten women in their thirties having a good time sans their menfolk. Some of the guys started dancing with some of the ladies, and I went and asked one of the seated ladies to dance (in French).
Her name was…let’s call her…Jacqueline. She wasn’t a Québecoise; she was originally from Paris, 34, ordinary looking, average build, married to a Croatian, and had a twelve year old son. We got along really well! I was 2½ sheets to the wind, and had lost most of my inhibitions. Apparently, it wasn’t long before we were in a passionate embrace on the dance floor and DFK’ing. This continued for a while, when she had to leave. I walked her to her van, which was parked on Ste. Catherine Street. Believe it or not, somehow, we climbed into the back and started kissing and groping right there! I was pretty drunk, but I remember distinctly having her panties down around her knees while I was fingering her pussy, and she had my (very erect) dick out of my fly. We were on the verge of “doing it”, when she pulled away and said, “Pas ici! Je te donne mon numéro. Appelles-moi demain matin, et on peut se rencontrer.” (Not here! I’m giving you my number. Call me tomorrow morning, and we can meet). We composed ourselves, I said OK, and we parted. I drove home, although I obviously shouldn’t have, given my drunken state. Fortunately, I made it without incident.
I woke up late the next morning. I had slept right through the hangover I probably would have had. I decided I would call Jacqueline to finish what we had started. The first thing I did was call my secretary to tell her I wouldn’t be in until later on that afternoon. She laughed, and asked if I was hung over, and I lied and said yes. She had obviously heard something. I wasn’t overly concerned about anyone calling me at the office because my boss and his boss were in Europe at the time. After I shaved and showered, I realized that if I called Jacqueline from the house, it would appear on our bill as a long distance call because I lived on the West Island, and she lived on the South Shore. So, I drove to a nearby shopping centre to use a pay phone. She answered immediately, and she said to pick her up at an intersection near her house. It took me about forty minutes to get there, but she was waiting for me. She guided me to a motel that she said she’d used before for similar trysts. I went into the office, paid for the room, and returned with the key.
We had no sooner closed the door behind us, when we flew into each other’s arms and started devouring each other. Within seconds, we were almost tearing our clothes off and tossing them into a heap on the floor. We collapsed onto the bed, and really went at it. I had never been with a truly multi-orgasmic woman before. I swear she had her first within ten seconds of my having inserted my finger. I started DATY’ing her, and she came a couple more times in very short order. I was amazed and in a frenzy by this time. I didn’t bother waiting for her to start giving me a BJ; I just plunged Avery Junior (uncovered) into her pussy and fucked her harder than I’d ever fucked anyone in my life. The intensity level was incredible! I made no attempt to hold back, and I didn’t need to anyway, because she started cumming again soon afterward. We collapsed in a sweaty heap.
....cont'd....
It happened many years ago. I was 32 and had been married for over six years, and with my wife exclusively for a total of seven-and-a-half years. I had been faithful the whole time, unless you count a few drunken kisses at Christmas with two secretaries (remember when we had those?) at two different employers. Our only child at that time, a boy, was about a year-and-a-half old. I was the manager of a large department in the Canadian branch of a European multinational in Montréal.
One of my many departmental responsibilities was to provide training to our employees from across Canada. We gave one-week courses that lasted four-and-a-half days. It was really four long days, with a group dinner on Thursday evening, and a perfunctory Friday morning session when everyone was recovering from a hangover, myself usually included. I rarely did any of the training myself (my subordinates did that), but I hosted the dinners, and usually accompanied the guys to a bar or two afterward.
On a Thursday evening that November, we ended up at the Vieux Munich, a German beer garden that originated at Expo 67 and subsequently moved downtown. There were always large groups of people there, enjoying the ambiance and dancing to the oompapa music. I usually behaved myself (I didn’t want to set a bad example in front of a lot of witnesses, including a few of my subordinates), but that night I didn’t. (My wife and son were away that week visiting her family). There was a nearby table with around ten women in their thirties having a good time sans their menfolk. Some of the guys started dancing with some of the ladies, and I went and asked one of the seated ladies to dance (in French).
Her name was…let’s call her…Jacqueline. She wasn’t a Québecoise; she was originally from Paris, 34, ordinary looking, average build, married to a Croatian, and had a twelve year old son. We got along really well! I was 2½ sheets to the wind, and had lost most of my inhibitions. Apparently, it wasn’t long before we were in a passionate embrace on the dance floor and DFK’ing. This continued for a while, when she had to leave. I walked her to her van, which was parked on Ste. Catherine Street. Believe it or not, somehow, we climbed into the back and started kissing and groping right there! I was pretty drunk, but I remember distinctly having her panties down around her knees while I was fingering her pussy, and she had my (very erect) dick out of my fly. We were on the verge of “doing it”, when she pulled away and said, “Pas ici! Je te donne mon numéro. Appelles-moi demain matin, et on peut se rencontrer.” (Not here! I’m giving you my number. Call me tomorrow morning, and we can meet). We composed ourselves, I said OK, and we parted. I drove home, although I obviously shouldn’t have, given my drunken state. Fortunately, I made it without incident.
I woke up late the next morning. I had slept right through the hangover I probably would have had. I decided I would call Jacqueline to finish what we had started. The first thing I did was call my secretary to tell her I wouldn’t be in until later on that afternoon. She laughed, and asked if I was hung over, and I lied and said yes. She had obviously heard something. I wasn’t overly concerned about anyone calling me at the office because my boss and his boss were in Europe at the time. After I shaved and showered, I realized that if I called Jacqueline from the house, it would appear on our bill as a long distance call because I lived on the West Island, and she lived on the South Shore. So, I drove to a nearby shopping centre to use a pay phone. She answered immediately, and she said to pick her up at an intersection near her house. It took me about forty minutes to get there, but she was waiting for me. She guided me to a motel that she said she’d used before for similar trysts. I went into the office, paid for the room, and returned with the key.
We had no sooner closed the door behind us, when we flew into each other’s arms and started devouring each other. Within seconds, we were almost tearing our clothes off and tossing them into a heap on the floor. We collapsed onto the bed, and really went at it. I had never been with a truly multi-orgasmic woman before. I swear she had her first within ten seconds of my having inserted my finger. I started DATY’ing her, and she came a couple more times in very short order. I was amazed and in a frenzy by this time. I didn’t bother waiting for her to start giving me a BJ; I just plunged Avery Junior (uncovered) into her pussy and fucked her harder than I’d ever fucked anyone in my life. The intensity level was incredible! I made no attempt to hold back, and I didn’t need to anyway, because she started cumming again soon afterward. We collapsed in a sweaty heap.
....cont'd....
Truth to tell, I didn't feel nearly as guilty as I thought I might. 
