1. A Little Christmas Guilt


    Date: 9/12/2015, Categories: Cheating, Author: NorthernFlicker, Rating: 13, Source: LushStories

    I didn’t think it would ever happen to me. In fact, my mind had never even strayed towards the idea. My married life had been no less than spectacular for all of its fifteen years. We were both about forty and were awash with a deep respect and love for each other. We had marvellously uninhibited sex, common interests, stimulating conversations, and, equally important for both of us, no kids to impede our lifestyle. We seemed to have, as far as we were concerned, the perfect marriage. Sure there were ups and downs and things like money issues, just like everyone else that we knew, but they weren’t beyond dealing with, and they never created any stress or tension between us to the extent that it threatened our marriage. In short, there was nothing that was impeding the quality of our marriage, and absolutely no reason to think that I might ever want to do anything that might jeopardise it in any way. And then... I was on a short business trip, business trips being most unusual for me to have to undertake, and this one in particular as it was just a few days before Christmas. I had managed to do some on-the-road shopping for Christmas gifts, and they were wrapped and ready for the flight home. I was flying home the following day, Christmas Eve, as soon as the morning meeting was finished, and was looking forward immensely to it. I had just finished an after-work drink with a couple of colleagues after a long day of meetings and was heading towards the hotel elevator to go to my ...
    room, when this guy came charging down the hall heading towards the lobby. He was carrying two suitcases, had a wild look on his face, his clothes were dishevelled, his tie was draped over his shoulder, and he was muttering, “Jesus! Oh Jesus Christ!” God knows what his problem was but it certainly wasn’t mine, and I stepped well to the side as he careened past me towards the hotel exit. I glanced back at him over my shoulder just in time to see a woman emerge from a side corridor directly into his path. It was inevitable. He smashed straight into her, sending her sprawling, and he tumbled ass-over-teakettle over her, his two suitcases flying, one of which burst open scattering its contents of dirty clothes and underwear across the lobby floor. He picked himself up, swearing heartily, raced around scooping his clothes up and stuffing them back into the suitcase, and ran out the door, yelling for a taxi. The whole incident had taken only a few seconds. The few people in the lobby were stunned by what had happened and stood where they were, uncertain as to what to do, or what was going to happen next. The unfortunate woman had hit the wall hard and was lying at its base with her eyes closed, not moving. Her head was lying at what looked to me like an awkward angle. Her long winter coat, which she had been carrying over her arm, lay splayed out on the floor beside her. I rushed to her and found, to my relief, that she was breathing. I gently felt behind her neck for any swelling ...
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