It Was Pink, Beaches!

Affair.  Tryst.  Cheating.  Rendezvous.  It doesn’t matter which word you use; they all mean the same thing: adultery.  And that shit is potent, like a long, slow drag of opium-laced Purple Kush from a triple perc bong; one hit and you’re completely blazed above any other hit you may have ever had before.  I don’t really understand it - in the end, it’s “just” sex.  But at the same time, it’s much more than that.  For me, there’s a physical tingle, an emotional satisfaction, and a mental conquest that accompanies the physical acts of sexual engagement.  And it’s at a level more intense than I feel in a monogamous relationship.  See, in an adulterous relationship, the lines between reality and fantasy blur, and the fantasy seems real, bringing with it internal conflict over whether what you feel is lust, attraction, love, or curiosity.  And, those feelings morph from day to day, creating an unending draw to engage even more.  That’s how it’s played out for me multiple times over the course of my marriage, as you’ll learn through my blog postings.

For a quick background, let me state simply that the entries on my blog are as factual as I can remember, with small exceptions being changes to the names of people, places, etc., in an effort to provide a safe platform from which I can share openly and still remain somewhat protected from adverse retribution.  I’m a Mormon.  This plays a big part in everything you’ll read in this blog if you follow me, but for now just know it means I’ve grown up religious.  I’m an adult male, in the 35-40 age range, married with children, and actively engaged in my local church community.  My wife, Crystal, and I have been married for over 15 years, and she’s an absolute saint.  I mean that in the most complimentary manner possible - any bad characteristic she possesses is probably something she’s picked up from me in the time that we’ve been married.  Anyway, home life is generally very good; we don’t fight or argue much with each other, and sex together is good, and occasionally great - when we have sex.  Our kids are well-behaved, get good grades, and are good citizens at school and in the community.  I’m the sole provider, and Crystal is a stay-at-home mom who is socially aware and engaged with multiple kids’ activities throughout the week.  My current career has us living overseas in Europe; I travel a lot for work, and we travel a lot for vacation as a family and as a couple.  In short, our life is extremely comfortable, and overall home life is good.

But in spite of how good my home life has been or is, my heart, my eyes, and my hands have occasionally wandered away from Crystal.  It’s outright hypocrisy: I live with the realization that I’m an unfaithful man and a Mormon as well - it’s a double whammy.  And yet, for some reason my heart longs for it.  So, yes - I’m admitting to having inserted my dick into another woman’s vagina - and it was fucking glorious.  So far, that’s only happened once.  But beyond that, I’ve consistently been plagued with a desire to seek more encounters outside of my marriage.  This has manifested itself in multiple ways, but mostly as long-distance conversation with women I knew before I was married.  But on occasion, I’ve branched out and tested the waters with new - sometimes unknown - women, which has increased the potency of the emotional fulfillment from the experience.  This brings me to my first confession, involving Nina.

Nina was the first woman I had sex with as an already-married man.  She and I had met online, and developed a relationship via messaging and text until we decided to finally meet.  I can still remember the feeling of butterflies from the first day we spoke on the phone; Nina’s voice was lower than I expected, but not too low.  After knowing her, it fit her perfectly.  She’s 43 years old, 5’ 8”, blond, with slate-blue eyes and a bit of a crooked smile.  She has long, slender limbs and a long torso, and she’s eye-catchingly beautiful.  And to top it all off, she loves sex and she’s really really good at it.  The biggest surprise was that Nina goes absolutely crazy when you finger her asshole or bend her over a table, chair, or couch and assfuck her.  In fact, Nina loves assplay so much that she even taught me a thing or two about it.  In fact, she helped me realize that I love when a woman rubs her finger tip(s) gently over my asshole while she’s giving me a hand job.  I fucking LOVE it, and I go absolutely wild when a woman does that to me - I’m talking… moaning, shuddering, panting.  Shit, it doesn’t sound very manly when I write it out, but that’s a very real pleasure.  No judging.

So anyway… back to Nina - she comes from a country in Eastern Europe, so she grew up under Soviet rule until about the age of 16, when the Soviet Union collapsed.  She’d been married previously, and has two young boys.  But due to alcoholism and abusive treatment, she’d divorced her husband a few years prior to our meeting, had completed advanced degrees in psychology and foreign languages, and now works as a professor teaching English and Spanish at a local university.  She was a single mother, divorcee, the child of an alcoholic and molesting father, and a product of Cold War U.S.S.R.; she’d had a difficult life, and had somehow found a way to remain positive.  Nina’s story is incredibly compelling, and so much of who she is stems directly from this rough history - she’s truly a rose that has flourished amidst the surrounding thorns.  

Because of my career, I’d lived and worked in the same town Nina was from, so I had a personal connection to where she lived, which meant we hit it off immediately.  As I grew to know her, I was attracted to her personality, her physique, and her story.  And so, over time, I really began to feel a deep desire to be with her.  Over the course of a few months, we began discussing the possibility of meeting in person.  Our desire to meet was mutual, but as a married man, I was afraid of the consequences.  After all, meeting a woman online and discussing the possibility of a real-life weekend rendezvous was new territory for me.  So whenever the conversation would arise, I vacillated between responses of “possibly,” “that’s an awesome idea,” and “maybe later.”  Once Nina began asking specifics about when we would meet up, it became a little more real, and bit the bullet and agreed to meet.  We decided on timing and location, and I began to prepare my trip, but when I told Nina that doubts and hesitation had crept in again, she simply said, “I knew you wouldn’t keep your promise.”  That should have been a red flag, but instead, I doubled down and committed to go.

Now, to put this into full perspective, I’d never previously travelled alone for leisure.  So, to arrange this type of trip was uncharacteristic, to say the least.  Add to that the fact that I was travelling to a location in Eastern Europe where I’d travelled a few times and lived for a few months for work, but where hardly anyone goes for leisure travel.  The tickets weren’t discounted at that time of year, and the most popular attractions and events occur in the opposite season of the year.  This had all the makings of disaster written all over it.  But in my determination to follow through with a promise, I committed 100% and purchased airfare and lodging.  The fucked up part about this is that I’d asked Crystal to help me book the plane tickets and the hotel.  I have no idea why that seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’d decided that my marriage was all but over.  This became the #1 reason for my wife figuring it all out at a later point.  (I’ll probably write about that later).

On the day I flew in to meet Nina, my nerves took over and I almost didn’t board the flight.  But, I kept coming back to the fact that I didn’t want to chicken out.  My adrenaline and impulses took over, and I arrived safely to my destination.  Once Nina picked me up from the airport, we drove 4 hours to her home, providing ample time for us to talk and learn about each other.  at the initial stages of the conversation, I told Nina I didn’t want to give in to the pressures of impulse.  Wisely, I told her I would stay at a hotel and she would stay at her house to avoid getting too intimate; we could meet during the days and go spend time together, but this was to be strictly friendly - we needed to get to know each other.  That commitment lasted about 10 minutes, and I was soon rubbing her inner thigh and fingering her wet pussy with my right hand as I drove with my left.  Nina was already soaking wet before I’d even touched her, and as I explored her vagina, I could smell her delicious juices and hear an audible sloshing sound as I slid my two middle fingers along the lips of her labia and in and out of her pussy.

When we arrived near her apartment, it was early evening and Nina insisted we detour to the local coastline so we could swim in the [fucking freezing] water and walk along the beach.  The parking “lot” for the beachhead sits in a forested area, with approximately 350 meters of unpaved walkway up and over a shallow ridge line to the coastline.  Once I parked the car, Nina exited the passenger’s side and unabashedly stripped her clothes off to change into her bikini and a summer dress, and she carried a bag with a few snacks, our small items (wallets, keys, etc.), a towel, and a blanket.  I didn’t change my clothes, as I had no intention of swimming.  As Nina led me side-by-side through the wooded area toward the beach, I reached down and squeezed a deep handful her left ass cheek with my right hand.  She breathed deeply, quickly turned into me, buried her face in my chest and whispered, “I love when a man sticks his finger in my ass.”  This caught me by complete surprise and immediately turned me on.  With my left hand, I pulled Nina into me, and with my right hand, I slid her bikini bottom to the side and connected my middle finger to her asshole and carefully massaged in a slight circular motion.  Nina immediately began breathing heavily and bucking her hips to press her asshole against my finger.  Carefully, I inserted my right middle finger into her ass, and with my left hand, I turned Nina to her side and then began sliding my left two middle fingers along her labia and massaging her clitoris.  Nina went fucking nuts, bucking, panting, and moaning.  After a few minutes of this, Nina had a small orgasm and turned back into me, wrapped her arms around me, buried her head into my chest again, and squeezed me in a tight hug.  She looked up, kissed me, and then grabbed me right hand and requested that we continue to the beach.

As we neared the beach, Nina stepped off the pathway to look for a secluded location.  After a few minutes of searching, we found a small clearing set slightly down and out of sight from the pathway.  Nina set down her bag, pulled out the blanket, spread it in the small clearing, laid down on her right side and playfully patted the ground, inviting me to lay beside her.  Once I laid down, Nina positioned herself closer and demanded, “let’s have sex.  Here.”  We began kissing passionately, and I carefully began feeling her breasts.  I slipped my right hand under her bikini top, and began squeezing her left breast and teasing her nipple.  I then slid my right hand down her torso and into her bikini bottom, and began massaging her clitoris.  This lastly only momentarily as she grabbed my hand and said “no,” surprising me.  Then, before I could wonder too much over why she’d stopped me, she continued, “sex.  I want your cock in me.”  She reached into her bag and pulled out a condom, putting it on my semi-hard dick.  With the realization of what had just happened, mixed with the pause for the condom and fatigue from all day travel, I struggled to become fully erect, and neither of us climaxed.  It didn’t take long for us to realize that this particular session was not producing the desired result, and we returned to kissing and chatting, and eventually packed up our things and found private location in front of the water.  I waited on the shore and drank a couple shots of Nina’s homemade liquor as Nina dipped and swam in the nearby sea.  Nina returned to the shore after 15-20 minutes, and we sat together, bundled in a blanket, watching the sunset from the shoreline.  As the evening came to a close, we witnessed the transition from pastel sky to dark night, and laid together staring up at the stars in the night sky, and talking about what we’d do over the next few days.

[…To be continued…]