ImageSince the birth of the children our lives, or perhaps just my life, had taken on an all too familiar pattern. Regimented and organised just like the pattern of the old jumper that lay across the chair in the corner of the bedroom.

Yet this wasn’t my bedroom, nor the jumper my husband Tom’s. My behaviour this afternoon was so far outside that pattern that I felt both exhilarated and embarrassed in equal measure.

This afternoon I was here again with Carlos. Sublimely naked under the sheet as he feasted. Carlos wasn’t one to worry about a few stray hairs getting caught in his teeth. Oh how different this was to making love with Tom. Dear old Tom. Tom who insisted on having the lights out whilst we made love. Tom who would think that the performance I had just given was demeaning for a woman of my age. Dear sweet Tom who I would probably remain married to for the rest of my days, but Tom who no longer felt the need to excite me, if indeed he ever had.

Carlos was one of my English language students. He had joined the course a little into the term, and as soon as he walked through the door I felt a strange and exciting attraction for him. He was easily fifteen years my junior, and with his thick dark hair, smouldering almond eyes and young body that rippled as he moved he captivated me from the first. He started the flirting almost as soon as he took his seat, and it was just a few classes later when he made his first move.

Having explained a tricky piece of grammar I left the students to work on some exercises. Carlos from his usual place at the back of the class called me over for help. As I stood there beside him explaining where he was going wrong his hand slipped up my inner thigh before I could object, although I don’t think I was ever really going to. In seconds he had slipped his hand up under my skirt and inside my flimsy panties. As I took a slightly shocked breath he slipped his fingers higher into the most intimate part of me.

When he placed his hand back on the desk I moved back to the whiteboard, only to be teased by his ongoing actions. As I continued with the lesson he made a show of licking his finger, or simply of holding one of them slightly inside his mouth. It was then that I knew my fate (doom?) was sealed. When the class ended he invited me to share his bed, and that was how I found myself here and now breaking a pattern of a lifetime. If I had known that being a naughty girl could be such delicious fun I would have taken the plunge so long ago. Now I felt I was playing catch up…



Filed under Adult

6 responses to “Pattern

  1. LOVE it! You never fail to surprise me, Mark! 🙂

  2. Excellent. Love the writing. You’re developing a “style” here. This is going to be a great journey to follow you on

  3. Oh love it Mark. I wanted the story to continue. I wish I had that sort of talent to write.

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