Fucking my AP while my Father-In-Law Slept Above Us in the Guest Room (Part 2)
Once you’ve tasted forbidden fruit and experienced new heights of eroticism and physical intimacy, it’s as addictive as any powerful drug.
My wife, Sarah, was out of town with our kids, visiting her best friend in California. Her father, a man I love to this day, had asked to spend the night the first night Sarah was out of town. He had a doctor’s appointment the next morning and wanted a shorter drive.
He would be staying in our guest room, directly above my studio in the basement.
Jessica and I had a trade show in town and we and others from our office planned to attend in the afternoon. By the time I arrived at the show in a large open venue with an endless sea of booths, I had only one thing on my mind — find Jessica and find some abandoned conference room somewhere in the large venue where we could at least make out for a few minutes.
I was craving her smooth flesh and hot breath on my face, and on my lips, and I wanted to feel her wetness on my fingers. I wanted way more than that, but I was trying to be realistic.
She wasn’t responding to my texts, and it felt intentional. When I did finally find her, almost 20 minutes after I arrived, she was holding court with some trash guys — most of them middle-aged fat dudes with bad hair and no fashion sense — in a booth for a smaller, regional waste hauler. She saw me and held my gaze for a few seconds — no smile — and then continued to focus on the guys, all of whom seemed far too happy she was giving them attention.
After five minutes, she walked over to me, a look of cold indifference on her face.
“I see you’re having a good time with those trash dudes. I’m getting the sense that you’re pissed at me, but I have no idea why,” I seethed.
“Oh, I see,” she said with evident disdain. “So I’m just your forgotten mistress when you have no time for me, but the moment I go out to make friends who might appreciate time with me, you get jealous. Not the hottest look on you, darling.” As she turned around and walked away, heading back to the trash guys.
“Fuck this shit,” I muttered to myself as I turned and walked away. All the damn way to my car to drive home.
It’s amazing how the brain works to balance mood and emotion and all the incessant thoughts coming up in consciousness while processing a fight with your AP as you make conversation and dinner for the father of your wife.
After dinner, I sat and spoke with my father-in-law for a while. He was a great guy and a great storyteller. He asked how things were going for Sarah, me, and the kids. I gave him as good a response as I could. To the outside world, we were great. No need to mess up the optics tonight, I thought. It was now after 9 pm, and he opted to go to bed.
I went downstairs to my studio to work on a new song I’d been trying to finish. Music production was a great escape for me, and I was resigned to the fact that I wasn’t going to hear from Jessica.
I began to wonder if it was over for us and hated how that felt in my gut. I was in love with her, and hiding from that reality was getting increasingly difficult.
An hour later, my phone vibrated.
My heart skipped a beat. I opened my phone to see that Jessica had texted me:
Hey baby. I ended up staying pretty late at the show — those idiots wouldn’t let me leave, and 2 of them asked me out. Yuck. I told them I’m married, LOL. I’m a little tipsy and super horny and am sorry I was such a bitch earlier. I’ve missed you so much these past few weeks, and I just want you to hold me for a few minutes before I get home. Is that ok?? Can I come by and see you?
My heart fluttered joyfully.
I responded with, “Get your sexy ass over here as quickly as you can; park in the street and come in (quietly) through the side basement door on the right side of the house! Be your best adultress-ninja! Can’t wait to hold you and be inside of you.”
Find out in the next installment.
Read the first installment here:
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