By Illicit Hedonist

I’ve finally settled into my new office. New friendships. New life goals. A new laptop. I am drawn into my first meeting. I stand at the back of a room full of people, female bosses and  Royal College bros and uncles. Liberal platitudes and big ideas to make more money or do charity are being confidently flung around. There is an ambience of privilege in the room. I smell a bouquet of perfume. I sponge up the big words. The spotlight is on me now. I speak to my enthusiasm, spewing praise of my new workplace. I play it cool. The new kid in the block. I am welcomed in. Hands get shaken. Fists get bumped. Smiles get shared. I was closing out my shift, a day well spent. Walks in a woman.

Nubile. 5’6”. Slender breasts. Hair up to her shoulders. Oversized earrings. Manicured nails. Light blush on the face. Grey drop waisted dress.  An almost peachy butt. She is a model specimen for a woman. I was struck by her contagious smile. Her eyes were laughing first. She drew out my name in the most teasing yet affectionate way. She wanted to check in on me. She captured joy through my responses. We bid good-bye, until the next day.

She was 38 and I was 32. We were both married and were in committed relationships. I soon became her pal in the office. We made it a habit to talk to each other, perhaps too often. Our conversations were about work, music, pets, movies, seemingly unassuming, safe and rather drab topics. But there was a sense of joy to our conversations. I yearned for them. She did too. My time in the office felt a little fuller because of her.

Work required us to travel together for an assignment. We shared a ride. I was in the front seat and she was in the back. When we checked into our rooms, we were in two different floors of the hotel. We planned to meet for dinner. We were out of our bounded lives for two nights.

She exuded confidence. She embodied rawness. She was easily amused. She laughed at bad jokes. She was not held back by convention. She liked experimentation and self-discovery. She liked risk. She was many things that I was missing in my significant other. She saw the same in me. I wanted to get nasty with her. I dared not ask her though. I was cowed by a reputation I had to protect. We spoke about our lives over drinks. This time with more depth. Over cold Lion beers and cheese omelet, we dissected our sex lives and relationships, and commiserated how much we miss novelty in our sex lives. Both of us felt a sense of liberation for being so open to another person who seem to be in sync with your thoughts, dreams and fantasies.

Back in office, we felt even more natural beside each other. We were not contemplating a relationship or even an office romance, no way, but there was some unexplained, organic and orgasmic closeness to our friendship. Both of us could let loose with each other. Our romance belonged inside our imagination, not in reality.

I have always had the deepest desire to explore and experience intimacy in its full spectrum. I was fluid with my preferences. I had deep love for my significant other, but I was also willing to step-in, head-on, to any risqué experiment that would titillate my desires. Porn was always my friend. Jerking off was my daily exercise. But I wanted more. I wanted a life well lived. A life full of sexual exploration. I was not getting that at home.

Over time, our chats became more explicit. We spoke about desires. I would use sexual innuendoes whenever I spoke to her. Her comebacks were great. Always had a sexual punch to them.  

I was at work one day while she was on leave. We were WhatsApping each other on and off. She was out shopping, at Mango she said. I was writing code at office.

‘I wish you were here changing me’, she said, while she’s trying on some tops in the fitting room.

‘The things I would do’ I replied. Aww, tell me’. ‘While I am slow kissing your neck, I cup your breasts, hard. I breathe in the smell of your hair. Slowly running my nose across your locks. I make you wrap your arms over my neck while I kiss your cheek. While I have my hand on one of your breasts, the other hand is slowly navigating its way to your pussy. I force my hand under your pants. I can feel the texture of your lace panties. My fingers tiptoe the edges of your panty, trying to make a mental map of your pussy. I could now feel the wetness. I pull your panties to the side. I caress the trimmed pubes with one finger making its way to your pussy lips. I stroke your clitoris and vagina at the same time. All this time, my throbbing cock is rubbing against your back. I pin you against the mirror. I bend you forward. Pull down your pants. I fuck you, doggy style. With each thrust, you let out an otherworldly moan from all that pleasure. I am holding you now from your shoulders. I spank your butt, hard. I am about to cum. I know you are too. I pull out, in time to release my load on your back. I lather all that cum on your back like a good moisturizer and I let you lick what is left off my fingers’.

‘Fuck, I am wet, and I think I stained this new top, Fuck. 

Wow, that was the first time I really came from sexting. Phew, is this really me? Fuck me, 

but thank you, honestly, I am going to sleep well tonight’. 

I scurried to the office toilet. Jerked off to my heart’s desire.

There began our epic sexting sessions. Every sexting episode explored our deepest and darkest desires (cliché, I know). But honestly, every sext was pure porn for me. We fantasized about orgies, BDSM, anal, massaging and MMF fucks.

We felt guilty. But the intense desire to experience an alternate reality, where the person you are with shares the same level of raw sexuality, is intelligent and is playful in a way your significant other is not, overcame any mental barriers we had. We were not in love with each other, but we lusted each other.

A group of us were out one day for after-work drinks. We ended up at the rooftop bar at Jetwing Colombo 7. It was a fun evening with a bunch of good people. She and I were seated opposite each other. Once in a while, we were exchanging glances. She was in a white, linen, low-cut sleeveless top. I could make out the bra line. I imagined what her breasts would look like. Then she lifted her arms to tie her hair and the sight of her side boob gave me a hard-ass boner. I was so horny, and I could sense that she was too. I sent her a message, ‘wanna fuck after this?’. All I needed was that smirk and the intentional look in her sparkly eyes. There it was. Both of us wanted to feel each other so bad.

We couldn’t wait until everyone was ready to leave after the drinks. We bid farewell, the usual hugs and never-ending byes and there we were, in our two cars driving home. I rang her with the question, so ‘what do we do now’? Silence on the other end, but I knew she wanted to fuck me so badly and so did I. It was around 12 am on a Friday. We have got excused from our spouses to go out for drinks only and come back home at a reasonable time and, yet, here the two of us are, contemplating on whether to fuck. I asked her to find a parking spot on Aloe Avenue. She then got into my car. Here I am, super anxious and paranoid but also wanting to transgress any inhibitions I have held back all this time. I didn’t want to go to some random room-by-the-hour hotel and neither did she. Plus, I did not want some random hotel reception to record my NIC details. We both enjoyed a certain level of status and credibility, as accomplished individuals running happy homes. Plus, both of us did not want to make love on a bed stained by dried up cum and pussy juice. But what if someone who knows my car drives past? What if we get calls from our homes?

We drove around the city. Our first time with each other is going to be a car sex experience. But having car sex in Colombo is next to impossible. There are hardly any dark corners. Every house seems to have now put up CCTV cameras. The last thing either of us wanted was to see our lovemaking doing the rounds on WhatsApp all because we acted on our horniness.

After driving around for about half an hour, I found a dark corner on Lake Crescent. Only the streetlamps were giving a faint glow. All this time, her hand was feeling my cock and I was rock hard. She was also trying to kiss me, and I had to push her aside, not just because I was driving but I also didn’t want surprised looks from any passing traffic or the lone late-night walker. She seemed to like to take risks, make things exciting. Off went the engine and out went the lights. AC was off. We could now only hear our own breathing, weighted down by what we were getting ourselves into. I reclined my seat, and swiftly she was on top of me.

Skillfully, she unzipped my pants and took my cock out. While running one hand on my cock, she unbuttoned me and started feeling my chest, all the while leaning closer to me and licking my ear lobes. Occasionally, her tongue would go inside my ear and I would moan. I took off her bra in one go and snuggled my face in-between her perky breasts while holding them tight with both my hands. I inhaled the sweetness of her sweat-glazed breasts. I could feel the tension in her. I could hear her heart pumping and her deep muted moaning. I circled her nipples with my tongue, making them erect. While lifting her arms up, I licked off all the deodorant-drenched sweat from her armpits. I was floating with ecstasy. I slid a finger inside her, to a rhythm, adding slow pressure. I felt the inside of her waxed pussy, every layer, every crevice, every unseen thing in the depths of her beautiful porn-star grade pussy. My thumb was circling her clit and I held her tight, pinning her to my lap. My fingers were slowly running in and out of her vagina. I could feel the tension in her thighs tightening. She moaned loudly, eyes closed, lips all dried up and said …. Fuuuuuukkkk. She pinned me to the seat.

She slid down my legs and took my cock in her mouth. Her mouth was like a suction cup, and I was erupting from the sensation. Her rhythmic moves over my cock made me so hard, as never before. She spat a heavy load on my cock, pulled back my foreskin, circled the top a couple of times and then took the whole thing in again, slowly taking in every bit of my throbbing cock. She would run her tongue up and down the shaft, like a popsicle. She would take in one ball, suck it like a toffee and move on to the other, all the while using her hand to stroke my cock and edge me on. I loved the ‘slosh slosh’ sound my cock made with all that spit and her slow hand movement.

I pulled her up and wanted to go inside her. I trusted her enough to forego using a condom. I didn’t have one with me anyway. Man, the warmth of that pussy made me feel euphoric. It had juiced up so much I slid in and out effortlessly. It was tight and beautiful. We both shared the same moans. We were kissing each other. Licking each other. We slid off each other’s sweat and inhaled the raw smell of sex, in the back of my car.

I was about to explode, and she jumped off my cock and wanted to eat my cum. I erupt inside her mouth. She continues to suck my cock tasting every bit of me and then, she comes closer and kisses me, her tongue deep inside my mouth…giving me a taste of my own cum.

We remained like that for some time, bodies entwined, arms locked together. My fingers running through her hair.

We exchanged some soft kisses. Felt each other’s skin one last time, all the while feeling tense and paranoid about being caught in our act of adultery. But this fuck was worth every bit of that tension. Car sex was fucking great but what a challenge it was to fuck in such a small space. We got dressed. Exchanged one last kiss, locking lips for a bit longer, and I drove off to drop her by her car.

I went home. I was guilt-ridden. So was she.

The next day, I saw her again in the office. We exchanged pleasantries. We messaged each other about how good of a night it was. We didn’t let our fuck, or our sexting get in the way of our normal lives, we kept it as something we would enjoy, a channel to meet an unfulfilled desire. We meant no harm to anyone.

We had already made plans for our next fuck.