I have a friend who told me he was driving along with his wife in the car one day when he noticed there was a new shop that opened along a street he travels often. He slowed to look at the new store and his wife said to him "Is she prettier than me?" He was dumb struck not having any idea at all what she was referring to and asked her. She said, "Well you slowed to look at something, I saw that young woman passing on the sidewalk over there. You must have been looking at her, is she prettier than me?"
Now I ask, what if she was prettier than his wife? What if he had really been looking at her, and fantasizing about how her lips may feel around his cock? How her soft young body may feel pressed perspiring against his softer mature flesh? Wondering to himself what would it be like to fuck a little thing like that. Is that cheating?
What if i chat with a Man online. What if I fantasize in great detail how his skin feels on mine, how his lips feel when he kisses me, how his breath comes in ragged spurts when he is about to cum. How his cum will taste on my lips and how his touch will make me whine in pleasure. Does that make me unfaithful to my Husband if i never touch that Man?
What if when my Husband is away with His friends on vacation without me, He sits by a fire drinking with His friends. It is a cold night, the fire is warm. He watches the sparks crackle upward from the large fire pit. The crackling flames are hypnotic. Everything moves in a hazy state. It is dreamlike, surreal in His drunken state. They are singing songs. He sings too. He knows the words. He is laughing. It is cold. A girl, not one he ever met before sits on the ground at His feet. Her back is pressed to His knees. She moves away from Him. He feels the cold gnawing at Him where her body was. He pulls her shoulders toward him. She presses closer. There are bawdy laughs from around the fire. The sound is distant. He is in His cocoon, the warmth of another person feels nice in His drunken haze.
He puts a hand on her shoulder, plays with her blond hair. Touches the skin on the back of her neck. He compares her in his head to His girl. His thoughts are muddled. His girl is full and dark. This girl is small and blond and birdlike. Her hair slips between his fingers and falls like silk. His girl's hair gives him something to hold onto. His girl has thick curls that He grabs and holds in His gripped fist. This girl's hair trickles through His fingers like water.
He drifts in hazy thoughts, how this girl will taste on His lips. Will she be hard where His girl is soft? How her pussy feel on His hard cock. Will she feel different than His girl? He his horny. He is drunk, is cock is talking to Him. Thrumming a beat in His pants, needing attention. He pulls the girl closer, He touches her, cups her small breast in his hand. Weighs it, admires the newness of it. He tells Himself, "she isn't My type."
The party by the fire quiets. People drift off unnoticed. The girl is drunk too, she slithers closer to Him, they are huddled together sharing a blanket. They wander off together farther from the fire. They lay the blanket on the ground. They snuggle together and kiss. She feels new, so different. Her body is cold, hard, and boyish. Not like His girl. He keeps comparing His girl to this one in His mind. "My girl has nicer breasts." He leans in and tastes one. She feels nice now. She holds His cock. Gripping too hard. He adjusts her, still not right. He takes her hand away and pulls her closer. Touches her. She isn't soft like His girl. He is sobering. He kisses this girl, she tastes different. This isn't His girl. His girl knows what to do. He loves His girl. He hugs her. He Tells her He is sorry. He is tired and needs to go to sleep. She protests, snuggles in closer, touches Him.
He is soft now. He isn't horny anymore. He puts her aside, and leaves His blanket with her. He goes back to His campsite and sleeps alone. He feels ashamed and sorry. His friends ask the next morning what happened. He tells them the truth. They laugh and tease Him. "Your girl has You by the balls." He says, "No, My girl has me by the heart."
He is sincere when He tells me this. It is all true. Not because i chose to believe Him. Its true because a heart can't lie. He holds me in His arms, when He tells me this story. I hear His heart beating, His breath on my skin, His lips so close to mine. I taste the salt of His tears. I Feel with Him the fear he has of the truth. I tell Him I am not angry. How can i be? How can i be angry at Him for doing what is right?
Is trying on someone cheating or does it really remind you what you love about your partner?