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I want to thank my editor, SlaveGirl70, for her fantastic edits. I appreciate everyone’s comments and suggestions. If you enjoy this story, I think you might enjoy reading my others as well.
If you like this story, please provide positive feedback, and that will encourage me to write more.
Me and my wife Wendy live in a lovely northwest suburb of Boston called Acton. I am an engineer and Wendy is a third-grade teacher in our district. We have been married for 35 years. Our children (both boys) have graduated from college, and both live in the area. Our oldest son Rob, is married and our youngest Paul, has a live-in girlfriend.
Our marriage has had its ups and downs. Wendy has been going through menopause for the last 3 years. Her sex drive, which was never high to begin with, has dropped to zero. This has been very frustrating, but I wouldn’t ever consider ending my marriage. We are terrific life partners, just without the sex.
I had one short “fling” 15 years ago, but other than that I have been faithful. I decided that in order to continue being emotionally faithful I needed sex, so that part of my needs were satisfied. I needed to have an affair. But how does a man start a secret romance at age 57? Certainly not with someone at work. In the era of the “me too” movement that would be a stupid idea. My life does not expose me to situations where I could meet someone romantically. So I decided to try the Internet, and opened an account on a popular website geared to having affairs.
I chose the direct and honest approach and wrote my profile as follows:
“Married professional looking for someone to share special times with. I am 57, 5’10”, 165 lbs, with dark hair and brown eyes. I enjoy tennis, running, and basketball. I am in pretty good shape and consider myself fairly attractive (for my age). I live northwest of Boston, and I am looking for someone I can occasionally meet for drinks, dinner, and if the chemistry is mutual, great sex. I am not looking to change my situation or yours. I am open to various ages and ethnic groups. My politics are liberal but open to other viewpoints. If you are interested, we can correspond and see if we want to take it farther.”
I decided not to include any photos with my profile description. No telling who goes to these sites. I picked the username M57NoBoston. Not very clever but it was descriptive.
After I posted my profile, I decided to search to see if any female members looked interesting. I decided to keep my search reasonably local (within 50 miles). I found there were at least 200 to 300 women within my search parameters. Some with pictures, others without. Some with lengthy descriptions, others with only short sentences such as “Cum and fuck me,” or “Looking for sugar dady. Speaks Russian and Engliesh.” I skipped those.
I found a couple of dozen potential candidates. Over the next couple of weeks, I decided to write e-mails rather than instant messaging them. That would give them time to respond and provide me more information as well. I am a reasonably good writer (for an engineer) and wrote each potential candidate individual, long opening e-mails with detailed information about my past, interests, hobbies, and I also described my married situation in more detail than my profile revealed. I also included thoughtful references to the information contained in their unique profiles. I wanted them to know that I had read their profiles and was responding because I thought there might be some common ground and interests (beyond just sex).
A few of the responses came back with basically “thanks, but no thanks,” or “I don’t correspond with someone without a photo.” I explained that I would provide a photo once I reached a level of comfort but reminded them I had lived in the area for a long while and didn’t want to expose my current extracurricular activities too openly.
I got an intriguing e-mail from a woman with the username SemiAttached123. It read:
“Hello M57NoBoston, I enjoyed your e-mail introduction, and I liked your profile. Maybe we can exchange photos later if you feel comfortable. I am 51, 5’2”, 115 lbs, with long brown hair. I have been married for 30 years. My husband and I recently decided to have an “open marriage.” I should say he decided that we would have an open relationship. I suspect he has been having an affair for a while now and wanted more flexibility seeing his girlfriend or girlfriends. I was very hurt by this. We have three grown children, one still in college. Financially, divorce is out of the question. I am lonely and would like to meet someone I can talk to. I think of myself as attractive, and honestly, I have recently lost some weight due to the stress of my husband’s affairs. I have intense desires and want to explore those again. I know most men are looking for a 20-something. Based on your e-mail to me, I think you are the type of man I could be attracted to. Please write back and let’s get to know each other better. Hopefully, halkalı escort your new friend Ann.”
I sent Ann a reply with a couple photos from my neck down (leaving out my face). In one picture I was in a sports jacket and tie and the other in my running shorts. I thought that was a good photo as it showed I had muscular legs and a nice ass. I signed the note with my first name, David.
About a day later, I got this reply:
“David, thanks for the e-mail and photos. Nice legs BTW. I have attached a couple of my photos to this e-mail. I hope you enjoy them. Ann.”
Attached to the e-mail were three photos. The first was a selfie from the waist to neck. Ann was wearing nothing but a white lacy bra. I could just make out the shape of her nipples through the sheer material. In the second photo, Ann took a picture over her shoulder into a full-length mirror. I could see her long brown hair extend down to the middle of her back. She was wearing a white lacy thong that matched her bra. She had a nice ass and figure. Only the back of her head was visible, not her face. The final photo was a close-up front photo of her lacy white panties. It appeared that Ann was mostly shaved with maybe a small triangle of hair under the thin material over her pussy. Her left hand was in the photo showing red fingernails touching the outside of her panties.
I wrote a reply and told her how hot she looked.
Ann wrote back almost immediately.
“Dear David, thank you so much for your very kind words. I needed them. I have been having self-doubts for a while now. I am glad you liked my outfit, such as it was. I was wondering if you would like to get together for a drink after work tomorrow. How about we meet at 80 Thoreau in Concord at 7:30pm? I hope you will recognize me. Wear a blue shirt and sit at the bar. Please let me know if you can make that work. – Ann”
I wrote back to Ann and indicated that I could arrange to meet her at “80 Thoreau”. It was typical that I would meet friends on Monday nights after work for drinks at local bars to watch sports. The Red Sox were playing tomorrow evening so it would be the perfect excuse not to be home.
The next morning, I made sure to put on a blue shirt before leaving for work. It was hard to concentrate on work as I was thinking about Ann and those white lacy panties. I finally left the office at 6:45pm. It was a short drive to Concord where the restaurant was located. 80 Thoreau is a classy, rustic-chic eatery featuring creative, farm to fork New American food. It has an extensive wine bar. It is a rather small place and is typically packed. As it was a Monday, it was not that crowded.
I took a seat at the bar and ordered a glass of Pinot Noir. I glanced at my watch, and I was 15 minutes early. I was a bit nervous. My house in Acton is was reasonably close to Concord, so I was concerned that I might run into someone I knew.
I was halfway into my glass of wine, and I notice a woman enter the restaurant in a flowered dress. She started walking toward the back to the bar. She looked vaguely familiar to me, she had on glasses and a hat covering her head, so I could not tell the color or length of her hair.
Then it dawned on me. “Shit!” I thought to myself. It was someone my wife knew. I believe her name was Emily, and she worked with Wendy at the elementary school. “Shit, shit, shit.” This wasn’t good. I turned to hide my face as she approached. I wondered if there was a back exit to the bar so I could sneak out.
I heard soft steps behind me, and someone touched my shoulder. I turned around to stare into the face of Emily. She gave me a startled look recognizing me and looking me up and down.
“David?” she asked. She had a puzzled and concerned look on her face.
I stood up from the bar stool and replied, “Emily?”
Emily scanned the bar and then back at me. I was the only person at the back of the bar. It was then I noticed Emily’s hands and the bright red nail polish. There was a sudden mutual realization, and Emily smiled back at me.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Emily said in a low voice.
“Ann?” I queried.
“Emily Ann,” she responded. “I decided to use my middle name for discretion. There are more Anns than Emilys I think.”
I pulled out a chair next to me and offered it to Emily. Emily removed her hat, and I could now see her long brown hair. It must have been a year since I last saw her, and I didn’t remember her hair being that long.
“It has been a while. Your hair is longer than I remembered it,” I said.
She smiled and shook her head. Her hair swept from side to side. “I have been letting it grow. Other places I have cut it very short,” she said with a bit of a wicked smile, and she looked down toward her lap.
Emily ordered a glass of Prosecco, and I ordered another glass of Pinot Noir. Emily had lost weight, I thought. I’d also never noticed how cute she was. Her glasses gave taksim escort her the look of a librarian, which, ironically, was what she was. She worked in the elementary school, down the hall from Wendy’s classroom.
Once we had both gotten over the initial shock of recognizing each other, the conversation flowed nicely. Emily had always thought that Wendy and I had the perfect marriage.
“Well the marriage is good, but the sex… not so much,” I shared.
Emily shared details about her husband’s affairs, including one with a 16-year-old neighbor who had (a few years earlier) attended the same elementary school that Emily and Wendy worked at.
We continued to talk privately for another 30 minutes. I was slightly buzzed from the wine, and without thinking, put my hand on Emily’s leg above the knee. Her skin was soft.
“You know I have always had this fantasy about librarians,” I confessed, and immediately regretted the candor of my disclosure.
Emily was just finishing her second glass of Prosecco, she leaned into me and whispered in my ear, “So you have a librarian fetish…”
I nodded meekly and she lightly licked my ear. This sent shock waves down my body.
Emily left my ear and, looking me in the eye, whispered, “bad boy.” She smiled and continued, “So did you like my white librarian lace?” She reached to brush my crotch gently with her hand. “Would you like to see it… in the flesh?” she asked, and then added, “I have it on right now.”
I was speechless. I nodded dumbly and finally added, “I would love to see it.”
She drank the remaining sparkling wine and waved to the bartender to get our bill, which I quickly paid in cash. We then walked to the front door of the restaurant.
After leaving, I followed Emily to her car that was parked a block down the street. I tried to kiss her, but she pushed me softly away.
After looking up and down the street she said, “let’s go to someplace more… private. OK?” She looked around again and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and asked, “where is your car parked?”
I pointed to my car that we had just passed a half a block down.
“Pull up to my car and then follow me,” she commanded in a flirtatious voice. “I think I have just the perfect spot.”
I did as Emily requested and pulled up behind her small Nissan with my BMW. I followed her north on Route 2 and then took a left onto Main St. I had no idea where Emily was going. Maybe she knew a private area where we could park as there were no hotels in this area. She then took a left and I now understood where she was going. She pulled into the elementary school parking lot. Emily pulled her car to the side of the school in an area where the parking lot lights were partially blocked by the trees. She stopped her car and turned off her engine. I parked next to her.
I locked my car and proceeded to Emily’s driver’s door. She had begun to open it, and I helped, offering my hand to assist her out of the car. In the restaurant I had failed to notice that Emily had on strappy red high heeled shoes. “How did I miss that?” I wondered.
She stood up, embraced me and gave me a deep long passionate kiss. Which felt like it lasted for 5 minutes.
“Come on,” she said, breaking from our embrace. “Let’s go inside. Too public out here.” She gave me another quick kiss on the lips and led me to the side door of the school.
“I need to come into the school very early and sometimes during the weekend, so they gave me a key to the back door,” she said as she inserted a key into the lock and turned it. I helped her pull open the heavy security door.
The hallway was dark with only emergency lighting on. Emily took my hand and led me down the corridors past posters for water conservation in crayon and finger paints, and past my wife’s school classroom. After a couple more turns, we were in front of the door to the library. Emily took out another key and unlocked the library door. She led me inside and turned on one of the light switches that illuminated the back half of the small library.
I looked around the room. It was filled with small tables and chairs, there was a pile of bright stuff balls in one of the corners of the room. Some of the spheres were tiny, about the size of baseballs, others larger than basketballs.
“Welcome to the library,” she said in a hushed voice and spread her arms wide, standing with her legs crossed. “Now remember,” she continued, “listen to the librarian and no loud talking or noises.”
She then leaned in and kissed me deeply, our tongues exploring each other. She pulled me tightly against her chest and a light hint of perfume tantalized my nostrils. Her hands moved down my back and then to my ass, giving it a playful squeeze.
“You do have a nice tush you know,” she whispered in my ear. She then moved a hand to my crotch and felt my already enlarging penis.
“I think we have both waited too long for this,” she whispered again in my ear. şişli escort She then slowly went to her knees on the green-carpeted floor. Emily looked up at me through her eyeglasses, which were still on, with a mischievous smile and began to unbuckle my belt. She then unbuttoned and zipped open my pants. I was wearing black midrise briefs. As my pants fell to the floor, Emily kissed the outside material that was barely holding in my now erect organ.
“At the risk of sounding corny, I think someone is happy to see me,” Emily quietly mused as her hand stroked the outside of my underwear.
“Let’s see what my friend Wendy is not taking good care of,” and Emily hooked her fingers under both sides and pulled my briefs down to join my pants around my ankles. My cock sprang out perpendicular to my body.
“Oh my,” she said with a soft giggle and began to slowly rub my cock.
“Oh God that feels so good,” I moaned loudly.
“Shhh,” Emily said. “This is a library. You need to be quiet,” she teased in a hushed voice.
Emily now had my balls in one hand and was massaging my cock slowly in the other. She continued to look at me through her eyeglasses. After a couple minutes, Emily lowered her gaze to my hard cock. She then leaned forward and gently kissed the tip with her lips.
“Hmmm,” she purred. “Let’s see how you taste.”
Emily took off her glasses and was about to put them on the small table next to her when I quietly pleaded, “Please, leave your glasses on.”
She looked up at me, smiled and said in a low voice, “You nasty boy. You like your librarian fantasy complete. Is that it?”
I nodded and smiled back. Emily winked at me, giggled and put her glasses back on. She then kissed the tip of my penis again. She raised my cock up and stuck out her tongue and slowly, very slowly, moved up the underside of my member all the while looking at me from the corner of her eye.
I let out another groan, and Emily responded with a firm, “No noises in the library,” and she gave my cock a gentle squeeze.
She continued to tease me this way for 5 minutes, gently kissing and slowly licking my stiff rod.
She stopped suddenly and looked up at me with a smile and said very quietly, “Well David, what do you want this librarian to do?”
“Suck me,” I pleaded.
“Shhhh, quietly,” she responded.
“Suck me,” I whispered.
“Like this?” and she let my cock slip an inch through her lips and quickly released it. She quietly giggled again, and her long hair brushed the length of my cock as she looked up into my eyes.
“Deeper,” I whispered.
She smiled slyly and put her lips at the tip of my cock and slowly took me into her mouth 2 inches, and then slowly pulled back.
“Like that?” she said, smiling up at me.
“Deeper,” I whispered again.
She moved again to the tip of my cock and slowly took me into her month now three inches. She moved back and forth 3 times and slowly pulled back.
“Better?” she asked smiling up at me.
“Deeper, please!” I begged in a stage whisper.
This time she kissed the tip of my cock and put both her hands on my ass and said, “Like this?” and she pushed the entire length of my cock into her mouth and into her throat. She gagged for a second, and I gasped out loud.
She forced my cock back and forth deeply against the back of her throat, and I groaned. I hadn’t felt that sensation in many years. It was all I could do to hang on, the excitement of her throat constricting my dick was heavenly.
She released my cock from her mouth, slowly got off her knees, and stood in front of me. She held my cock in her hand, stroking it as she kissed me deeply.
“What do you want to do with this wonderful cock of yours? She whispered in my ear as she licked my lobe.
“I want to make love to you,” I whispered back.
“No, you don’t, bad boy. You want to fuck me. Don’t you?” she teased and kissed my ear, and pulled on my cock. “You want to take your dick and fuck this librarian, don’t you?”
Wendy never talked dirty to me during sex, and I found Emily’s suggestions very stimulating.
Emily pulled up her conservative flowered dress with her right hand she took her left hand, grabbed my right hand, and placed it on her white lace thong right over her pussy. I felt her heat and moisture through the thin material.
“Do you want to pull these panties down and fuck my pussy with your hard dick?” she demanded in her soft sexy voice.
“Yes,” I softly replied.
“Yes, what?” she asked.
“I want to fuck your hot wet pussy,” I answered.
“Well you are going to have to earn that,” she said, and she untied the sash that held the flowered dress closed in the front. She then unwrapped it exposing her matching white lace bra and panties. She stepped back three feet to one of the children’s reading tables and sat down on the edge. The table was much lower than one for an adult, and it was made out of sturdy maple.
She pushed a couple stacks of children’s books off the table onto the floor and smiled, “I’ll put those away later.” She then reached and took off her glasses again and held them in her hand. “Glasses on or off?” she smiled
“On,” I replied.
Emily put her glasses back on, smiled and crossed her legs with both hands on the knee. She had great calves. “Shoes on or off?” she asked.
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