My emotions with him go everywhere. My thoughts go everywhere. I worry about the wife but at the same time I don’t care. I almost want to be caught to be freed from having to worry about it. Although, let’s not invite the negative.

I write this drenched from thinking about him. The way he kisses me. The way he touches me. He’s older which I love. And he wants me. He has definitely made it clear he wants me. Wife or no wife. He wants me. And I want him.

We sat to break bread. Conversation flowing like everything is normal. Just friends enjoying each other’s company. Occasional glances of “I want you” send back and forth.

Then came the kissing. The way he grabs me to kiss me. The way he holds me. The passion is undeniable. It’s electric.

The way he touches me is unlike any other. Gripping when and where needed. Soft traces around. Light rubs. And the “your skin is so soft” line makes me want him to never stop touching me.

Daddy, I get soaking wet with you. When you hand touches my soaking pussy it just obeys. You demand me to cum and it just follows suit. Listening to it splash and you play with me only makes me want you more.

I can’t get enough. But I know our first time will be special. When I feel you enter me, I know it will be magical. It hasn’t happened yet, and I know we both want it. But I feel like when it does happen, that will be it. I will say the thing that scares me the most. I will reciprocate what you want me to.

I just hope that happens soon enough. I need you in me. I love that you already make me cum. I love that you touch me and know where to go. But I’m scared of being addicted to you. Addicted and needing your big cock to fill me up as much as possible.

Thank you for the date as spontaneous as it came up. We both made it work.

For those asking how it went: it was blissful. Yet again, I got to spend time with the man that makes it easy to just talk about everything and nothing all at once. He made me cum more than once. And I didn’t want to leave. His lips giving a sorrowful see you later.

It’s not that I enjoy being the other woman. It’s that he makes it to where I don’t care. I just want him that much.