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The Substitute

The Substitute

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Having been married for 15 years, I thought I knew my husband. I thought I knew myself, for that matter.

But even at the age of 44, life can still have erotic surprises for you. If you’re lucky.

Exercise and sane eating habits had let me keep my fit figure into what was now, undeniably, my middle age. I was proud of the shape I was in, my tits and ass were still firm, though I wasn’t really trying to impress anybody except Roger, my husband.

I worked at a big advertising agency. I was good at what I did, but sometimes it was awfully time-consuming. Even so, I grew gradually aware that something was off with Roger. He’d been acting strangely.

We had a fine sex life. Roger had stayed in good physical shape as well, and he could still get me wonderfully hot and bothered with just a look.

One night in bed, though, he seemed particularly distant, like his mind was elsewhere as he plowed me with his cock. I enjoyed it anyway as I was swept up into a familiar climax, feeling his cream warm me inside as he came as well. But as we lay together afterward I nudged him.

“Rog… is something going on with you?”

He got defensive, way out of proportion to the question. He said he’d been busy at his own job and we just hadn’t been seeing each other enough. I let it go.

But we had been married a long time, and you get so you can sense things. Even though I knew Roger loved me, I wouldn’t put it past him to have an affair. The thought didn’t tear me apart with jealousy, but I did want to know the truth.

I started to do some unaccustomed snooping. It was distracting and even demoralizing. I actually found myself caring less and less if Roger was fucking some other woman. At some point, I just wanted him to come clean about it.

A young woman named Amanda, who worked in my office, noticed my mood. “Mrs. K, are you all right?” she asked me.

“Call me Zoe, Amanda.”

She smiled at that. She was a pert thing, with nice tits, gorgeous hair and a pretty face. I recalled she’d been working there about two months and always seemed to be by my side, offering help. I’d figured she was looking for a promotion.

Somehow that day her concern hit me when I was most vulnerable. We were alone in my office, and I started talking. Then I couldn’t stop. Soon I’d babbled my suspicions about Roger.

Amanda bit her lip and looked at the floor. I thought I had embarrassed her — and myself — but she said quietly, “I’m afraid I know something about that, Mrs. — Zoe. Can you come to my place after work?”

The moment was like something from a mystery novel. I got back to work and stayed at the office until evening. When I left, Amanda was already gone from her desk. Curious, I drove to the address she’d given me and knocked on her apartment door.

“She was whimpering with need as I got my first taste of her cunt.”

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