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Executive Assistant Turned Friend Turned Lover

Date: 11/20/2015, Categories: Cheating, Author: CommunicationDirectr, Rating: 1, Source: LushStories

secret email accounts. She and I have moved on to live separate lives. Last week, I sent Yvonne an email wishing her happy birthday. As usual, she replied with a very polite thank you. “You’ve been on my mind,” I replied back. “I hope it has been in a good way,” she replied, adding, “We should have lunch one day.” I agreed. Not wanting to miss an opportunity, I offered to bring a small birthday cake so she could 'blow'out the candles. “You’re terrible,” Yvonne emailed back. “Hey,” I responded, “You’re the one with an email address that reads ‘KupKake.” I attached a photo of a cupcake with a bite taken out of it. She sent a “smiley” emojie back. We agreed to meet up at a Tex-Mex restaurant, not too far from her job. I waited for her in the lobby area of the restaurant. As soon as she entered, I stood with my arms outstretched and open. She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed. “Oh my God!” Yvonne remarked. Yvonne looked good. She was sporting a business-like outfit: a knee length black skirt with small slits in the side, a casual white blouse accentuated with a pearl drop necklace and matching earrings and a black blazer with seven inch stiletto heels. Her long chocolate brown hair curled at just the right places, her bangs neatly framing her oval face. We settled down at a booth near the back of the restaurant. I sat across from her. Yvonne propped her hand under her chin, looking down at her menu. “Don’t tell me you don’t know the menu,” I remarked. “I’m trying to ... decide what to get,” she replied, not even looking up. I slipped my foot up against her leg under the table. Yvonne looked up at me, briefly and then back down at her menu. I repeated my maneuver. “Behave,” Yvonne warned. I ignored her warning. Yvonne looked up from her menu. Her look was like an 'I can’t believe you’re messing with me,' look. I got up and slipped over next to her, where she was seated on the other side of the booth. “What? No,” Yvonne protested. “Scoot over,” I instructed, sliding in next to her. I confided to Yvonne that I wasn’t going to take 'No' for an answer. “We are both married,” Yvonne reminded me/ “Even better,” I replied, “Because if either of us doesn’t like it, we don’t have to sleep with the other or put up with each other on a long term basis.” “I don’t know,” Yvonne replied. “This . . this . .” “…is wrong?” I remarked, completing her sentence like I had done thousands of times before. “Yes,” she replied. “Is it wrong,” I asked, “to share a lunch date with a friend? To perhaps share in a common interest? To do something for someone that makes the other person happy? To give in to lustful desires?” “No, no, no, yes,” Yvonne responded. “So you admit to the lustful desires?” I inquired. Yvonne brushed her hair back over her shoulders with one swoop of her hand. I took her hand in mine. Her palm was sweaty. “You know I have always found you attractive,” I remarked. “Same here,” Yvonne responded, “but… I took vows.” “You took a vow to love, cherish and ...