It’s Not Really Unfaithful – Is It?

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We met at the gym. We went there at roughly the same time a few days each week. After a couple of weeks we acknowledged each other with a nod and a smile, after another few weeks it was “hello,” and after another week or so it was “how are you?” That was followed in the forthcoming weeks by longer chats as we worked the machines, chilled in the hot tubs and steam room, had a coffee or a juice after our work out, a meal after the gym and eventually a fuck at my house.


I’ve been married over twenty years, I have two children, both of whom are at university and my husband, a corporate lawyer travels an awful lot. He is away probably two weeks a month and I am very lonely indeed hence, continually I look for new hobbies and pastimes and ways of filling my empty days, and nights. I do some voluntary work and some part time editing work for a publishing house my family used to own. I play a lot of tennis, I am learning to play golf and bridge and I go to the gym most days. Naturally I shop a lot, I read many books, write short stories, I have a wide circle of friends and, surprisingly a fairly active social life. None of which, however, compensates for the loneliness.

I have had what I guess is a fairly typical sex life. I ‘gave’ my virginity away in nice circumstances to a guy I loved, for all of three weeks, just after my eighteenth birthday. I had three other flings before meeting Richard when I was in my early twenties. We married after a couple of years. I have had one affair that lasted for about six months, a few years ago and I have never had a bisexual or lesbian moment in my life. Richard is rather prudish and has never tried to persuade me to deviate from a straightforward, very heterosexual sex life. Deviant sex for him is taking photos of me in my underwear!

Oddly, maybe, as I have got older and spend more time by myself I have felt more sexual. I think about it more. I use yahoo messenger now and then, I write some erotic stories for a site and I exchange emails with guys I meet on both sites. I have many sexual fantasies. My sex life with Richard is ok, no more than that and maybe less. He is always tired and either, seems to have just got home or, is just going away, it doesn’t leave a lot of time for a strong sexual relationship, certainly not as it used to be.

In the past few years I have found myself masturbating more frequently and at present I probably do that every other day.


“Hi, I’m Catherine, Cat for short” I had said somewhere between the ‘hello’ and ‘how are you’ stages.

She smiled. “Hello, and I am Kathryn, Kathy for short.”

“With a K?” I asked.


“Mine is with a C, I envy you.”


“I don’t like the C, silly really, but there you go,” I smiled and she laughed.

She was younger than me, probably early thirties, maybe even late twenties. Attractive with shoulder-length hair that she seemed to change the colour of almost as frequently as she changed her panties, she was about five five and nicely slim. In her gym gear there was no unsightly lumps or bumps, her tummy was flat, her bum looked firm and nicely rounded and she had pert, probably B cup, but well rounded boobs.

I too vary my hair colour from an ash or champagne blonde to a goldenish brown. My hairs is shoulder length and slightly wavy. I am five feet seven, have long and I think shapely legs and a reasonable bum. Many, and that is gleaned from observation over twenty years, consider my D cup breasts to be my crowning glory; they are both full and round.

Kathy and I got on well. She was easy to talk to, smiled and laughed and seemed to be interested in anything and everything. She was not in a relationship, but did mention boy-friends. She told me that she used to work in an office, but had made a major career change a year or so ago and was now a primary school teacher. When I had asked the reason for the change, laughing she had said that it gave her the time to visit the gym in the mid-afternoons as I did. I didn’t enquire why that was. She went on to tell me that she earned a real pittance so she had another job several evenings a week as a ‘meeter and greeter’ for a BMW car dealership.

“I show people, mainly men who have more money than sense round the showroom and go with them on test drives of the top end cars.”

“In the evenings?”

“Yes the dealer has found it to be effective as many rich guys can’t get to the dealership during the day and in any case they like something more exclusive than sitting in the showroom with the hoi polio.”

It was pleasant having someone to chat to either, between exercises or, after we’d finished. It was also nice for me because it ate up time, something I had too much of, especially when Richard was abroad, although even when he was home he rarely got home before nine.

I suppose it all started when we were having a coffee in the café at the gym when Kathy said.

“You really do have an incredible figure Cat.”

Smiling and a little embarrassed I said. “Did you forget something Kathy?”

“What do you mean?” She asked looking puzzled.

“Well Büyükesat Escort nowadays when anyone says that to me,” I said, suddenly realising that mainly they were guys on yahoo to whom I had sent a photo, but I had to continue. “They generally add or infer for your age.”

Kathy laughed at that. She looked good when she smiled or laughed for unlike many people she seemed to smile with her entire face. “Not at all, many women half your age would love to have your body.”

“Would they now?” I replied not realising at first the double entendre road we were going down.

“Of course they would love it.”

“Well you have a great figure too Kathy,” I tentatively replied.

“Do you think so?”

“Yes and I am sure many would love to have that too.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Mmmm well you never know.”

Nothing that overt or obvious, but probably a starting point.

Richard was away at the time and I was feeling particularly frustrated. I had some pasta, ciabatta bread, salad and a couple of glasses of red wine for dinner around eight. If anything that made me feel hornier. That was because, stupidly it was an Italian meal, and I so adore Italian men even though I have never had one. I slipped my white, gym tee shirt off and undid the clasp at the back of my black sports bra. Removing that was such a relief for to provide the necessary support and to stop the bloody great lumps of flesh leaping around at the gym, it has to be tight: put on a few ounces and it’s too tight. I sat there nibbling on a few raspberries topless, it felt good. I often work naked or just in panties around the house. The black, lycra pedal pushers were very tight, everywhere. I touched myself and it felt as if my entire pubic area pulsated. I pushed on where I knew my clit was. It felt lovely rubbing my clit through the lycra, so I masturbated like that and made myself cum quite heavily in my gym clothes. They had to be washed in any case!

There was another incident the following week. We were again in the gym café.

“You don’t seem to be your normal self today Cat, is everything ok?”

“Yes everything’s fine.”

“Tell me to mind my own business” she said reaching across the table and placing her hand on the back of mine. “But are you sure, you look so sad.”

I told her that I’d an awful row with Richard about him spending so much time away from home. It had gone on and on and then he had got up earlier than me this morning and had left for a ten day trip to the west coast of America.

“Oh fuck, I hate men problems, but I do have a sure fire solution.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Come to the pub and get drunk.”

I laughed. “Oh yeah, what pub is that?” I asked joking.

“The Finch at nine tonight.”


“Yes absolutely, why not? I can’t have my gym mate all upset can I?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well I do and be there,” she said squeezing my hand, standing up, looking me in the eye, smiling and adding. “I consider it a date.”

I wore blue denim jeans, and a white shirt with a dark blue cashmere pashmena round my neck. I was wearing strappy mid heeled sandals and my dark red painted toenails seemed like beacons as I looked down. I felt pretty good.

We didn’t get drunk and in fact only had a couple of drinks each.

“You seem better already,” Kathy said as I walked into the pub. She got up from the bar stool and gave me a peck on the cheek, her hand slipping between my arm and body and almost touching the side of my boob.

“Yes I am,” I smiled. “Those moods about my husband pass quickly.”

She was also wearing jeans and as we sat on the high stools our knees would touch now and then. Nothing that obvious, nothing that suggestive, just accidental brushing of our knees.

We talked easily and she told me that she was quite worried about the thought of getting married.

“Why anything planned?”

“I mean forsaking all others” she laughed.

“Yes it is a pretty tall order these days.”

Laughing she said. “Tall? It’s fucking gargantuan.”

I gave her a lift home. It was just a little way out of my way. She house shared a pretty Victorian cottage with two others, a girl and a man. They were buying the cottage between them, which seemed to be a pretty good idea, but of course could cause problems if any of them wanted to pull out.

“Like to come in for coffee or, something?” She asked, her eyes glinting.

I did. It was very clean, almost pristine inside. She introduced me to Gordon.

“He’s the housekeeper,” she explained adding as they both smiled “And not the only gay in the village,” playing on a term from a popular TV show

“No there’s quite a community isn’t there love,” he said rather strongly. They bandied that about a bit quite losing me.

“Well goodnight Cat,” Kathy said as we stood on the doorstep an hour and a black coffee later.

“Yes right goodnight Kathy.”

She leaned forward, again slipping her hand between my arm and body and this time Beşevler Escort brushing the side of my boob. That didn’t particularly worry me for it happens all the time when men give me a peck on the cheek; by accident of course, but it did make me jump.

Kathy pecked me on the cheek and said. “Thanks for coming Cat and the lift home.”

As I started walking down the path she called out. “I hope you enjoyed our date Cat, I did.”

As I masturbated that night in my bed I was absolutely amazed that in my mind I kept seeing Kathy’s face. Nothing more, not her breasts or her naked body and certainly not us doing anything, simply her pretty face looking at me as I dredged up one of my favourite fantasies, a gang bang where I am had by a number of men. I made myself cum particularly heavily with one guy in my mouth, one between my breasts, one in my pussy and one up my ass: simply wishful thinking of course!

Most women don’t seem to shower after working out, but go home in their gym clothes and shower at home. It’s something to do with not wishing to show your body off in front of other women. It’s the same at the tennis club and, as I was starting to find out at golf as well.

Kathy usually did shower at the gym I had noticed and smiled when she had said.

“Saves on the hot water at home Cat.”

A few evenings later, around six thirty, we were the only two left in that part of the changing room. I was not showering so was about to leave, when Kathy said. “Hang on let’s have a coffee or something.”


“Let me grab a quick shower” she said pulling her singlet off and quickly unclipping her bra. She dropped those on the bench and slid out of her dark blue, tracky trousers with three white lines down each leg. She stood there momentarily in her white, cotton panties. I looked away, but couldn’t help seeing her nicely shaped tits with small, coral pink areola and nipples.

“Be a love and watch my stuff as I shower, save me shoving it all in the locker” she said slipping her panties off and wrapping a towel round her.

When she came out of the shower wrapped in a towel, I said that I would get the drinks and she asked for a white wine.

I was in the café when she walked in. She was wearing a crisp white blouse, and a grey, pinstripe power suit, with a three button jacket undone and a tight pencil skirt with black tights or stockings. She looked fabulous.

“Wow you look great.”

“Thanks ma’am, praise indeed coming from you.”

Smiling I went on. “The real deal, a high powered business woman. Off to the dealership?”

She laughed. “More high sexed than powered babe,” she said plomping herself down on the couch beside me, her skirt rearing up her legs sufficient enough to show that she was wearing stockings and not tights. Her hip was pressed tightly against mine and I wiggled a bit to move away. After the drinks had been delivered and we’d chatted for a while I was surprised to find that again our hips were touching; the softness of the sofa I thought. I didn’t move and actually it felt nice.

I was drinking my wine and Kathy was sipping her sparkling water when her Blackberry buzzed. She looked at it and said. “Oh shit, I forgot an appointment, someone is coming in early for a test in seven series, seventy five grand.I have to run.”

Standing up she put her hand on my shoulder, leaned forward and pecked me on the cheek. As she did her crisp white blouse gaped and I couldn’t help looking down it. I was embarrassed when I saw that she had seen me looking.

“Nice Cat?” she said ambiguously, turning and walking across the bar, emphasising I am sure the wiggle of her pert bum and rounded hips in the tight skirt.

Richard was home that evening having returned from yet another tedious, bloody business trip the day before. He got home from work around eight, we went out to a local restaurant for a quick meal and then went home and straight to bed. He fucked me. I felt nothing really, it was just a fuck. I felt that I was just a hole into which he could shove his dick and fuck away. I made the expected sounds and moves and I did have an orgasm, but again Kathy was looking on. This time I kept seeing those pert boobs, pink nipples and her legs in lacy top hold-ups. What’s happening to me was the thought that was in my mind as I drifted off to sleep.

“Fancy a meal one night this week?” She asked a week or so later.

We went to a little Italian and we got a little pissed. We laughed a lot, we were very touchy feely and several times Kathy put her fingers on my wrist or on the back of my hand. I wasn’t sure whether the times our knees or feet touched under the table were deliberate or not.

“No you need to stretch like this,” Kathy said at the gym a few days later.

I was lying on my back on the floor with one knee bent. I was pulling that to stretch the muscle. She knelt beside me. We were in one of the small gyms off the main room, we were the only two in there. She knelt beside me and held my upper thigh with one hand and my calf with Cebeci Escort the other. Looking into my eyes she said, rather huskily I thought. “It needs to go back like this so that your heel touches your bum. Grechen explained it to me,” she went on mentioning one of the female personal trainers.

Holding my thigh quite firmly midway between my groin and knee she pulled gently on my lower leg until my heel did touch my bum.

“Pull it up like that and then ease it down like this she explained” pulling my lower leg away until my knee straightened. She did that several times.

I could not believe the sensations I felt and I had to struggle to hide them. I certainly couldn’t speak for I was sure my voice would be just a croak and I had to avert my gaze from hers for I was sure that would give something away. She manipulated my leg like that several times.

“See what I mean, your body should be telling you something?” she asked leaning right over me so that our bodies in general and our breasts in particular almost touched. I had no idea what she meant, but my body was telling me something. I didn’t have the nerve to ask what it should be telling me or tell her what it was saying?

That evening as I lay on my sofa in my conservatory listening to a Bach violin concerto, I felt hands on my breasts. In my mind, I could see as plainly as anything that they were Kathy’s, even right down to the white painted, square cut fingernails. Masturbation with a gentle, but very satisfying orgasm came so naturally.

“Wow what a house,” Kathy said as we drove up the drive to the six bedroom Victorian pile set in two acres that Richard inherited from his grandmother. I hated most of it, but loved the conservatory I’d had built on the back. It looked out over a lawn that sloped down to a large pond That’s where I was going to serve dinner for Kathy and me.

I don’t really know why I invited her. The feelings she had been giving me lately certainly meant that I was tempting fate, but I asked her to dinner on an impulse. As usual Richard was away and neither of my children were home from uni.

“I hate it really,” I said as I grilled the lamb cutlets.


“Well it’s Victorian and I think quite ugly, but mainly because it came from his family.”

“His? Richard, your husband you mean.”


When I had asked her to dinner, Kathy said that she was working, but would come straight from the car dealers. Although she had told me that I was still surprised when I opened the door and saw she was wearing the same power suit and blouse as she had at the gym a few days ago; she looked fantastic and made me feel underdressed in my short sleeved, yellow scooped front tee shirt type top and denim skirt. As I still had the remnants of a tan from our week at our house in Florida, I hadn’t bothered with tights, although the recent chilly October evenings would put an end to that very soon. The skirt was probably shorter than a forty something should wear and my twenty year old daughter always looked disapprovingly at me when I wore anything with the hem above the knee; I had no idea what she would think of this hem for it was a good six inches above my knees. It made me feel good to wear it, but I would not go out in such a short skirt. I knew also that the top was a little tight and a little low for it was moulded to my boobs and I did show quite some cleavage. In retrospect I have often wondered whether there was some sub conscious reason for me, innocently I swear, dressing rather sexily.

As we ate dinner, I told her how I resented the fact we had to sell a lovely modern house in Richmond to come and live in this dump in Hertfordshire.

“Are you unhappy Cat?” she asked taking a sip of wine, putting her glass down, sliding her hand across the table and resting her fingertips on the back of my hand.

“I’m not really sure Kathy, perhaps lonely more than unhappy. I just don’t seem able anymore to see where my life is going”

“I know what you mean I feel exactly the same sometimes,” she said moving her fingertips on the back of my hand.

“But you have so much going for you, you’re young and gorgeous, have got two nice jobs, a lovely little house.”

“I only own a third of it remember,” she laughed.

“And your plans are well advanced for moving to France, it all sounds good to me.”

“Yeah right, tell me about it,” Kathy said rather gloomily. “It’s all a bit fucked up really Cat.”

I topped up our wine glasses. We had just started the second bottle of a nice South African Sauvignon Blanc.

“Let’s take our wine over to the sofa,” I said indicating a settee on the other side of the conservatory.

I’d had the almost twenty feet square conservatory built on a split level. The higher level as you enter it from the house was a dining area and had been where we’d been sitting. Half way across the room there were two steps down which led to a sitting area that looked out onto the garden and fish pond, both of which were lit up with numerous spotlights. It was a beautiful view and I just loved sitting on the deep cushions of the incredibly comfortable sofa looking out at it. As I followed Kathy across the room, down the steps and to the sofa it suddenly struck me that the last time I had sat on it, I had masturbated imagining her hand on my breasts. As she sat down and the tight, pinstripe skirt reared up her nylon covered legs, a little shiver ran through me.

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