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[AN AFTERNOON IN JUNE:]

Roger stroked in and out gently, running his hands over Melissa's beautiful body. He couldn't get enough of touching her—her skin was so perfect, her breasts and legs and ass were all so firm. "Nothing like a 25-year old body," he thought to himself.

This was their second time making love that afternoon. It was nearly always the same when they got together: the first time they coupled energetically, almost frantically. Roger was always extremely excited to see Melissa as her slim body emerged from her clothes, and she responded with wonderful eagerness to him. Usually they fell into one another's arms and fucked hard in the missionary position, or sometimes doggy-style.

Then they had some delicious recovery time together, snuggling, stroking each other, murmuring affectionately. And after 45 minutes or so—sometimes sooner if Melissa used her mouth to get him going again—Roger was ready for seconds.

She was lying on her back now, with Roger on his right side and at right angles to her, firmly plugged into her pussy, her legs spread and lying over his body. In this position they could smile at one another, and if he leaned forward they could kiss. Better still, his hands were free to caress her beautiful firm breasts, or slide down and tease her clit as they fucked.

Roger had never known a woman whose approaching climax was so evident: Melissa always began to tremble and groan, and then her trembling grew more violent in the last few seconds before her orgasm. He sometimes slowed down a little to tease her, to draw out those last few seconds, until she grabbed him and cried out, "do it!", and they rushed together to their conclusion.

This was the sixth time they'd been together, and each time had been better and better. Roger didn't know for sure why Melissa wanted to be with him, a man 14 years older; but he thanked the Gods for her beauty and her eager willingness.

He bent forward to suckle her left breast, at the same time beginning a circular caressing of her clit. After no more than a minute of the increased stimulation Melissa began to tremble, and he heard her moan. Roger gradually accelerated his strokes, while maintaining his attention to her breast and clit, until she spasmed ecstatically, crying out and twisting her hips around. Unable to hold back, Roger plunged into her clasping cunt a few more times and shouted out the joy of his own climax.

As they lay together, catching their breath, smiling at one another, Roger reached for her hand. They interlaced fingers and gently squeezed.

Just then Roger heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Before he could do more than turn his head towards the bedroom door, it was flung open and he saw the shocked, staring face of his wife.

"What the... ? Roger, you... you BASTARD!" Kathy screeched.

[SIX YEARS EARLIER:]

Whenever Kathy thought about it later, whenever she tried to deal with her guilt, she remembered it as a combination of several things one after another—a kind of "Perfect Storm". Somehow that made it easier to forgive herself, to live with what she was doing.

The first factor had been the "Seven-Year Itch," though for Kathy it came in Year 9 of their marriage. She and Roger had met while she was an undergrad at Indiana University and he was a grad student. They married after about a year of dating, a month after her graduation and just a week before her 22nd birthday.

Two years later Roger had finished his Ph.D. and been hired at Notre Dame. They'd lived happily in South Bend ever since. In just seven years Roger had published two books and a number of important articles, and everyone expected him to become the youngest full professor in the history of his department.

Kathy got her M.A. in counseling and found a rewarding job as a guidance counselor at Riley High School in South Bend. She loved her work, loved her husband, loved their life. They had no children: because of a congenital deformity Kathy could not safely bear children, so she had to take birth-control pills to prevent a pregnancy. But this mattered surprisingly little to her and Roger. They loved one another and were happy in each other's company. They had 4 nieces and nephews whom they saw at holidays, and they found that that was enough child-contact to suit them both.

So things were great—weren't they?

At 30 Kathy started to find herself growing restless, above all sexually. She and Roger had an active and satisfying sex life, in her opinion. They made love several times a week, and they were reasonably spontaneous and experimental. No kinky stuff like bondage—but they were happy to try different positions, different rooms of the house. Roger was a bit more conventional, maybe a little more uptight than Kathy was, but they did pretty well.

But that year she found her mind wandering. She had more and more sexy dreams, most of them involving men other than Roger—men she'd seen on the street, the husband of a friend, or, most often, faceless men with big cocks who took her forcefully and made her scream with pleasure.

It got bad enough that she ventured to mention it over lunch one day to Teresa, a fellow guidance counselor and her best friend. To her surprise and relief Teresa didn't laugh at her—instead she nodded and said, "believe me, honey, I know just what you mean. About two years ago I had the same thing—thought I was gonna go crazy!"

Kathy was fascinated. "What did you do about it?"

Teresa giggled. "I just suffered for a couple of months. I even began to fantasize about another man, you know? But Hank would have absolutely killed me, and I just wasn't prepared to risk my marriage.

"So I did two things. First, I bought a vibrator." She laughed. "I had some lovely afternoons with that thing, believe me!

"Seriously, it really helped, for a while. And then I sat down with Hank and talked to him about it."

Teresa saw the shock on Kathy's face and laughed. "I didn't say, 'baby, I want to screw someone else'. I said, 'honey, I seem to be going through a horny phase right now—how would you feel about our doing a little experimenting?'

"Needless to say Hank didn't see anything wrong with that idea! We talked about fantasies, about things we'd never tried but would like to, and for several months we had a hell of a lot of fun.

"Thank goodness he and I can talk about that stuff, Kathy. It eventually slowed down, got back into the typical marital rut, but we played some games and tried new things and it was just what I needed."

Kathy looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure I could do that with Roger. We have a lot of fun together, but I'm afraid my... fantasies might threaten him a little. Especially—"

She leaned forward and said quietly, "I've been having dreams about men who are, let's just say, 'very large'." She giggled. "And I don't think that Roger would deal with that all that well."

Teresa said, "you never know, Kath. As long as it's just fantasy and play-acting, he might be really into it. But you know Roger much better than I do. If it seems dangerous, you might just go the vibrator route. I can recommend them highly!"

Both women laughed loud and long—enough for other patrons of the restaurant to glance over with a smile, wondering what the joke was.

Kathy promised herself that she'd think seriously about talking with Roger, and seeing what they might do to liven up their sex life. But just a week later came the bomb threat. That September there were 17 bomb-scares in the South Bend public schools, and in one case a bomb had actually gone off, injuring three students. So everyone was very much on edge. The Superintendent had issued a clear order: for any future threat, the school was to be emptied within three minutes, no exceptions.

When the call came Kathy was sent down to the locker rooms to make sure all the kids who had P.E. that period got safely out. She quickly found the two female instructors, who were already on top of the situation—but for some reason the two male instructors were nowhere to be found. (It later turned out one was on the phone in his office, and the other had sneaked out for a cigarette; he got suspended without pay for a week.)

In desperation, and truly not knowing what else to do, Kathy ran into the boys' locker room, yelling "there's a bomb threat—you've got to get out! Grab your clothes and get out of the building."

Not surprisingly, the boys weren't expecting an attractive female guidance counselor, and they looked at her in shock before following her instructions and hurriedly jumping into their clothes. Kathy was embarrassed and apologetic—but not so shaken that she failed to notice a number of extremely well-built, and totally naked, 17- and 18-year olds. She got to look at more cocks in person that day than she had ever seen in her life (which was three: her younger brother when he was a kid, her first college boyfriend, and Roger).

At the time, Kathy was all business. She kept shouting, got the kids out the door, searched the locker room to make sure no one was left behind, and then went outside to her own assigned position. (It turned out the bomb threat was a false one.)

Afterwards, though, she spent hours replaying every moment of the scene. The bare, mostly hairless chests; the lean bodies of the boys on the swim team, and the stockier ones of some of the football players; and the cocks. Circumcised and not, big and small, fat and thin, some hidden in bushes of pubic hair, others swinging proudly. In her mind she wished she'd had an hour in there! She'd have studied them all, held them, tasted them... Oh God, had she really thought that?

She was unbelievably aroused—and alarmed. At home she masturbated frantically almost every day for a week, and pleased her surprised husband by jumping him on a couple of days as soon as he walked in the door. She planned to buy a vibrator the next time she could get to a sex-toy store safely out of town somewhere.

After ten days or so she started to relax again, as the wild fantasies eased their grip on her a bit. Except for Tom Bjornsen. She knew him already—her job was to work with the brightest Riley students, the top college-bound ones, and help prepare them for SATs and AP tests. Bjornsen was a senior, the third-ranked student in the class, and undoubtedly headed for an Ivy League school or the University of Michigan.

He was also a tight end on the football team, tall and muscular and very well-built. And, it turned out, the possessor of the largest penis Kathy had ever seen outside of a porn video (she and Roger had rented one a couple of times). Kathy simply couldn't get it, and him, out of her mind.

Kathy's fantasies were still just that—fantasies—until something else happened. Teresa came back from a statewide meeting of the Guidance Counselors' Association with a scandalous story, and she couldn't wait to tell Kathy.

It seems a woman from a downstate high school had been caught having an affair with a 16-year old boy she'd been advising. He was a Special Ed student and she was supposed to be helping him with reading; but their work together at school had turned into one-on-one sessions at her apartment (her husband traveled a lot) where nobody cracked a book.

"The funny thing, Kath, is that they never would have been found out except that they took a bath together and flooded the bathroom. It dripped into the downstairs apartment and when the old man from downstairs came up to yell at her, he caught them without any clothes on.

"The boys' mom knew about the 'counseling sessions' but assumed it was all on the up-and-up—she was happy that the school was giving her son extra help! And obviously the boy wasn't complaining—free pussy for a 16-year old? I'm sure he thought he'd died and gone to heaven!"

Kathy made all the right noises—how shocking, what a betrayal of all their professional ethics, etc. But inside she was thinking about Tom. Tom the Ivy-bound senior. Tom the student who came to her office once every week for an hour, to work on his Biology and Chemistry AP preparation...

That night she was as horny as she had ever been. She desperately wanted to fuck Roger for a couple of hours, fantasizing about Tom as she did so. But Roger was out of town at a conference, and she had to content herself with repeated, exhausting bouts of masturbation.

Even then, even with everything that happened within a few weeks, nothing would have happened—Kathy was sure of it—except for Tom. It turns out that Tom was not only horny (and what high school senior isn't?) but a flirt. A confident flirt.

She'd met with him once since the bomb-threat, and he'd already teased her a little. "Hey, Mrs. H., that must have been awful for you in the locker room, huh? Having to stare at all of us with nothing on!"

She'd tried to laugh it off, but she could feel herself blushing and she was sure Tom noticed.

The next time they met was after Kathy heard the story of the downstate counselor and her boy-toy, and she was blushing practically before Tom even came into the room. Somehow he knew what was in her mind. He sat across from her, slouched down in his chair with his knees spread, as if presenting his large bulge for her approval.

She tried to ignore it, tried to focus on chemistry; but the sardonic look on his face made it impossible. After about five minutes of her stuttering about equations, Tom stood up, walked around behind her desk, lifted her to her feet and kissed her.

Kathy was shocked—she tried to push him away but he held her tightly, keeping his lips on hers. Only after 30 seconds or so did he ease back, smiling into her eyes. To Kathy's horror she was breathing hard, and she could feel her panties were damp.

"Tom! For goodness sakes, what are you..." she hissed, carefully keeping her voice down.

Rather than letting her finish the sentence Tom leaned toward her for another kiss, and this time he slid his hands down her back and grabbed her ass cheeks, pulling them forward against him. She could feel his erection pressing against her, and her dampness increasing.

This time when he broke the kiss he slid his lips to her ear and spoke softly.

"I saw how you looked at me in the locker room, Mrs. H. And you haven't been able to look me in the eye since then, have you?"

"No Tom, that's ridiculous, I..."

"You've been thinking about what you saw, about what's inside these shorts, I think. And if you haven't, how come you're not yelling for help? The Assistant Principal would be here in 20 seconds."

Tom pulled back and gazed at her, a broad smile still on her face. "Are you going to yell?"

Kathy had never been so at a loss in her life. "No, Tom... no, I'm not. But you've got to..."

That was as far as she got. Tom kissed her again, and began unbuttoning her blouse. In less time than seemed possible he had her bra off and was suckling one breast while caressing the other with his large hand, teasing the nipple and driving her totally crazy. She was pressing his head against her breast, and humping her hips against him.

Just when Kathy thought she might come just from his caresses of her breasts, Tom pulled away, grinning. He moved unhurriedly to her office door and quietly locked it. Turning back to Kathy, who still stood numbly behind her desk, he led her to the front of it, reached under her skirt and yanked off her panties, then seated her on the desk with her legs spread wide.

"Tom... Tom, we can't! I don't..."

This time Kathy's words were halted not by Tom's kiss but by the sight of his erect cock appearing as he stepped out of his shorts and boxers. It was enormous! It had to be nine inches at least, and much much thicker than Roger's.

While Kathy stared, Tom moved in between her legs, lifted her skirt, and started teasing her lips and clit with the end of his cock. She started to tremble; she could hear and feel her own wetness. After a minute Tom took Kathy's hand, put it on his dick, and helped her guide it into her slippery tunnel.

It took a while to get the angle right—Tom had to ease her back a bit, and bend his knees a little—and for her to adjust to his size. Finally, after several minutes, he was all the way in, groaning softly with the pleasure of it.

Kathy had her fist in her mouth—she knew that if she weren't careful she'd cry out and bring someone running. As Tom began to ease in and out she clung to him, shivering, with her other arm, and let the incredible sensations flood over her. She'd never felt so full in her life, or so excited.

Tom didn't last long, but it was plenty of time for her to come twice with exquisite pleasure, covering her moans and cries desperately with her hand. As Tom ejaculated into her he kissed her hard, pulling her head to his with one hand behind her neck.

They collapsed together, Tom on top of her, and gasped for breath as they rested on the desk. It took forever for Kathy to regain some semblance of composure, and to sit up and gently push him away. Tom sank back into his chair, grinning, his flaccid dick lolling hugely between his legs.

"Tom," she said weakly, "Tom, that was a mistake. It was... it was exciting, but...

"But it can never happen again," she continued, a bit more firmly, her mind beginning to reel with guilt and with fear of the possible consequences.

"That was totally unprofessional and inappropriate, and... and, and it can never happen again."

Tom continued to smile at her. Finally he said, "yes, Mrs. H., I understand. But that was amazing—YOU were amazing. You are the sexiest woman I've ever seen, do you know that?"

She blushed, ever more aware of her own recent frenzied excitement and of the matted, soaked bush between her legs. "Yes, Tom... and, and you were amazing too.

"But we have to stop—you understand that, don't you?" she continued, almost desperately. She felt confused, and totally miserable.

He nodded, and they sat a few minutes longer, looking at one another. Tom's face wore a relaxed smile, Kathy's a look of nervous shock.

Then Tom stood up, and walked back to the desk, right up in front of Kathy. He held up his cock for her to look at. "Would you suck this?" he said very quietly.

"Tom! Tom, I just said we couldn't..." Her voice trailed off. He didn't say anything further, just looked at her, and watched her look at his dick.

Then Tom took Kathy's hand and helped her off the desk. Leading her back to his chair, he sat down, and gently urged her down to her knees between his legs. Kathy didn't resist; and when she was there, she just gazed at his cock, which was starting to thicken and flex upwards towards her.

Tom put her hand on it, and she began to stroke it gently. As it rose towards her, Kathy leaned forward and sucked it into her mouth. Still only half-hard, its thickness wasn't too much for her to accommodate, and she licked and sucked it eagerly, no longer thinking about the situation, only about the pleasure of having this enormous organ in her mouth.

Tom let her work on him for several minutes, until he was rock-hard again and Kathy's mouth could barely accommodate him. Then he lifted her onto his lap and slowly impaled her a second time, and they fucked.

When it was over they both were exhausted, Kathy in particular so drained she could hardly speak. With a delicacy and gentleness that surprised her, Tom helped clean her soaking vagina with some tissues, then eased her panties back on and helped her with her bra and blouse.

It was only a minute or two before the end of their scheduled hour together. Kathy looked at Tom, suddenly feeling desperately frightened, and said, "Tom?" She was near tears.

Standing at the door with his bookbag he just smiled at her, and made the gesture of zipping his mouth shut. Then he unlocked the door and left the room.

That wasn't the end of it, of course. Kathy alternated between horrified guilt and uncontrollable arousal for the next several days, making ample use of her own hands and Roger's cock to soothe her feelings somewhat. She couldn't believe what she had done, and she was absolutely mortified. But she was also turned-on constantly, and she sometimes had to change her panties two or three times a day.

The following week Kathy's firm resolve to make her tryst with Tom a one-time thing lasted no longer than it took for Tom to embrace her and start to caress her breasts through her bra. They did it again, twice, and to Kathy's amazement her excitement was even greater this time.

By the next week Kathy had acquired a portable "white noise" generator for her office, the kind of thing therapists use to keep confidential conversations from being overheard. She began to use it with all her advisees, explaining that the school walls were not so thick and she wanted to protect everyone's privacy.

That week Kathy also managed to slow Tom down enough—between the first and second fucks—to have a little talk. She made sure he understood that their exposure would not only mean the end of her career, but a scandal that would ruin his hopes of getting into a leading college. To her relief, Tom understood perfectly; what followed was a serious conversation about secrecy and discretion in which they saw completely eye-to-eye. The fact that Tom was also cheating on his girlfriend Diane made him all the more eager to keep their secret.

Kathy persuaded Tom without difficulty that they had to continue the academic work they were supposed to be doing, so that his test scores did not suffer. In the following weeks they worked out a predictable, if thoroughly enjoyable, schedule.

Each hour began with a quick fuck—both were so worked-up that virtually no foreplay was needed. They then took about 30 minutes to study together, relaxed and at least half-undressed; and the hour concluded with a more leisurely second round of sex, followed by a few minutes of making themselves presentable again and opening the window to air out the office.

Handling her guilt, and her absolute terror of discovery, turned out to be far easier than Kathy had feared. She still loved her husband and still enjoyed making love with him, so it was not hard to behave as though those things were still true. She even found that her fling with Tom sometimes led to hotter sex with Roger, though she was careful never to do anything with him that they hadn't previously done.

Since Kathy's work day ended by 3:30 she had ample time to shower, wash her hair, and rinse out her aromatic panties before Roger got home from the University each day. And even her fear that he would notice her looseness if he made love to her the same day she'd had Tom turned out not to be a problem—just a few hours did the trick.

And the guilt? At first it was enormous—crushing. Roger was in nearly every respect the best husband she could imagine. He was a little abstracted, a little distant at times, simply because like many academics he was often working out intellectual problems in his head.

But he was loving, kind, very affectionate, supportive... he was a great partner, and all she'd ever wanted.

So what the hell was she doing with Tom? And why couldn't she stop? As time went by she tried out all the usual rationalizations. Roger will never know, so it can't hurt him. I'm still every bit as loving to him as I've ever been. It's not like I'm really betraying him—I'm not in love with Tom or anything. It's just sex, it doesn't really mean anything.

Kathy was self-aware enough to know how shallow and false each of these statements was. But the fact was that she adored what she was doing. The pure thrill of sex with Tom, his enormous cock, the fact that he was forbidden fruit, it was more than she could resist. And she assuaged her own guilt by repeating to herself that it would all end in June when Tom graduated. It would all have been a crazy, wild, wrong thing. And it would be over; and no one would ever know; and she could go back to being a faithful, loving, ordinary wife, doing all she could to show Roger how much she loved him.

June arrived, and Kathy began to experience the bittersweet anticipation of the end of her fling with Tom (she couldn't bear to think of it as an affair). She would miss the sex, the wild excitement, the secrecy; and she would miss Tom, who was smart and sweet and a very nice young man (even beyond his marvelous equipment). But she would be so glad to be done with the fear, the nightmarish visions of exposure, divorce, and public humiliation that filled her mind at times. She looked forward to being totally honest with her friend Teresa again, not having to conceal anything from her. And it would be something of a relief to devote herself fully to one man, to the husband she loved.

In retrospect she could hardly believe how easy it had been to keep Roger in the dark about what she was doing. She imagined it must be because her two worlds remained so separate: Tom had her once a week, for an hour, in her locked office at school. They never met any other time, never spoke on the phone. When she was away from work she could be the same loving wife she'd always been, give Roger the same attention and affection as in years past. Her hour with Tom each week was like a good squash game: invigorating, refreshing, pleasurable, relaxing—and nothing more. Or so she tried to tell herself, though she was too honest to completely believe it.

She and Tom were snuggling in her office after sex when he surprised her. "You gonna miss me?"

"You bet!" she replied, smiling, kissing the end of his nose. "But you're going to be fucking those cute Princeton girls next year, you won't have time to think about old me."

"And who are you gonna be fucking next year?"

"My husband," she replied, a little puzzled.

"No one else?" Tom said with a grin. "Not, say, Arturo Sanders? I know you'll be working with him—he's the total genius of the junior class, taking like four AP courses next year. And he's a hunk. Even Diane thinks he's completely hot; and she hasn't seen him in the locker room like I have."

Kathy knew from the look on Tom's face that he was teasing her with that last sentence, waiting for her to ask. She pretended disinterest, but he wasn't fooled.

Finally she said, "okay, Tom, and just what did you see in the locker room?"

Tom was delighted that she'd given in. "Oh, just that he's really hung. Definitely as big as me, and I think a little bigger."

"I'm done with high-school boys, Tom," Kathy said casually. It bothered her that her mind was already racing with thoughts of Arturo Sanders, and wondering whether she might really want a replacement for Tom.

Then a thought struck her. "My God, Tom! You haven't said anything to him, have you?"

"Not a word," he reassured her. "Not a word, not to a single soul." He grinned again. "I just wanted to give you a little heads-up, in case you find you miss me more than you think!" He stroked her breast and gave her another kiss.

That summer was wonderful and relaxing. Kathy felt more free, and closer to her husband, than she had the entire previous year. Tom was a happy memory, now safely in the past. She and Roger took a vacation to Montreal, where they stayed in an elegant old hotel and made love nearly every night. Back at home they worked in the garden, she helped him proofread his latest book, they took walks together—everything was perfect.

While she hadn't forgotten about Arturo Sanders, she had absolutely no intention of doing anything but tutoring him—doing the job she'd been hired to do. When September came she was polite but utterly professional with Arturo. She couldn't help notice what a great body he had, especially the way high school kids dressed in the warm weather, but she pushed her interest as far to the back of her mind as possible.

Imagine her shock, then, when Arturo came in the Tuesday after Homecoming Weekend, closed and locked the door behind him, walked straight up to her and gave her a long, passionate kiss. She pushed him away and glared at him.

"Arturo—what the hell are you doing?" she said in an angry voice.

He smiled, a lazy smile full of pleasure. "Tom Bjornsen told me to pass that along to you. I saw him at the Homecoming football game this weekend."

She was totally at a loss, and started to blush. "But he... but he... you had no right to do that!" she stammered uncertainly. Her nipples were tingling, and the feeling distracted her.

Arturo took her into his arms, pulling her close, sliding his large hands up and down her back, caressing her ass. He was much taller than Kathy—nearly 6'5"—and her face was pressed into his shoulder.

Before she had time to struggle or pull away, he quietly said, "just tell me to stop—tell me you don't like this, tell me you don't want me to do it—and I'll stop. I won't bother you again."

His hands kept moving over her, and as she opened her mouth to say, "stop it—now!", she found her hips starting to push against him.

"Arturo," she said unsteadily, "you really need to... you can't..."

Kathy didn't finish the sentence.

[AN AFTERNOON IN JUNE:]

Roger rolled away from Melissa, who was cowering on the far side of the bed. He stood, unmindful of his nakedness, and walked towards the door where Kathy was still yelling, her face flushed bright red.