Cheating Wife Confession: My Second Life Affair Jay
He kissed me before I even had time to breathe, hands tugging my top down, fingers pinching my nipples until I gasped. Thirty seconds in and I was already trembling, my wedding ring flashing under the light
Where does a cheating, unsatisfied wife start to check off her naughty achievements list in Second Life? The only place that really makes any sense: Cheating Wife groups. So that’s what I did. I signed up for a few of them, and it didn’t take long for the messages to start raining down. Some were obviously just men looking for a quick cum ... which I’m not opposed to ... but for my first, I wanted it to be immersive. Something I could savor. I was picky.
And then Jay appeared.
That’s his name. Simple. Strong. Jay. His first message wasn’t some cliché pick-up line. He told me straight: that I sounded like I needed to be left dripping and breathless in a way my husband just can’t manage. And God, he was right. Completely right. We started talking back and forth while I stood in my quiet Linden Home, my heart pounding in a way it hadn’t in years. The more we spoke, the wetter I got.
Eventually, he sent me a limo. His place was small but stylish ... his, not some prefab he’d just rezzed for the occasion. I stepped inside, and there he was, naked, waiting. His confidence hit me harder than I expected. I hadn’t even closed the door before he closed the distance, his lips on mine. The kiss was urgent, hungry. It felt so good, so wrong, so electrifying.
His hand moved fast, pulling my top down, fingers finding my nipples, rolling and pinching them until my knees nearly buckled. Thirty seconds in and I was already gasping against his mouth, needy, clinging. The wedding ring on my hand caught the light as I tried to steady myself, and for a split second the guilt stabbed at me. But then Jay picked me up like I weighed nothing and carried me to his bed.
He laid me down and stripped me bare. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but my body was thrumming with desire. His mouth trailed down my chest, sucking, biting, making me moan louder than I meant to. I could already feel how wet I was, how badly I wanted him inside me.
He didn’t rush. His fingers slid between my thighs, teasing, circling, dipping in and out until I was shaking. “Good girl,” he whispered, watching me writhe, and something about those words unlocked me. I clutched at the sheets, hips grinding against his hand, and when he slid two fingers deep and curled them just right, I came hard. My first orgasm. My breath caught, my body convulsed, and I couldn’t stop the sound that tore out of me.
He didn’t give me time to recover. He pushed my legs apart, knelt between them, and licked me like he owned me. His tongue was relentless, slow at first, then faster, flicking my clit, plunging deeper until I was clawing at his hair, begging, crying out. When the second orgasm hit, it was almost too much ... I arched up off the bed, gasping, trembling, spilling against his tongue. My husband hadn’t made me feel that way in years.
When he finally slid inside me, I was already undone. He stretched me, filled me, and I clung to him like he was the only thing holding me together. We moved hard, fast, tangled in sweat and moans, kissing like we were starving for it. He flipped me over, took me from behind, his hand pressing down on my lower back as he drove into me. Each thrust sent sparks up my spine, and I lost myself in it completely. I didn’t care about the ring on my finger anymore. I didn’t care about anything except the way he made me feel ... wanted, fucked, alive.
An hour passed in a blur of positions ... on my back, on top of him, his mouth on my breasts, my nails dragging down his skin. Every time I thought I was finished, he pulled me back into it. And the entire time, those words echoed: Good girl. I’d never realized how much I needed to hear them until he gave them to me.
When we finally collapsed, sweaty and breathless, I felt that ache inside me ease. For the first time in so long, I wasn’t just a wife who went without. I was a woman who had been taken, satisfied, ruined in the best possible way.
We lay there, tangled together, talking softly. About nothing and everything. About how good it had been, about how badly I’d needed it. He had to leave for work, but before he did, he kissed me again, “I left you the way you needed to be,” he said. And he was right.
When I logged off, I sat there staring at my screen, touching the ring on my finger. I still loved my husband. That hadn’t changed. But I also knew this was just the beginning. Jay was the first checkmark on my list ... and I was only getting started.
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