Cheating Wife Confession: My Second Life Affair Roman

Married but unsatisfied, I gave in again. This is the story of my Second Life affair with Roman ... raw sex, desire, and the thrill of being a cheating wife.

Sometimes not entering a sim results in the best outcome happening. That’s something I learned recently.

I’d dropped into a fairly busy venue, a Second Life club that was packed with avatars. My computer isn’t exactly built for it ... I crank my graphics up for pictures, but in reality I keep them low. High-traffic sims mean one thing for me which is lag. And this time it hit hard. I could barely move, barely even walk to leave the entrance zone. Within seconds I was frustrated and left.

That could have been the end of it. But minutes later I got a message.

It was from Roman.

He’d seen me arrive and disappear and admitted he was disappointed that I hadn’t stayed. I apologized, explained the lag, and figured the conversation would fizzle out. Instead, it sparked. Roman was flirty, direct, and within moments he asked me the question I already knew was coming: How are you going to make it up to me?

I teased him, asked what kind of apology he expected. His reply was blunt. The only apology he’d accept was me naked in his bed. And a few minutes later, that’s exactly where I was.

 

The Build-Up

My heart was pounding when I entered his home. These are the moments I live for in Second Life. Being a cheating wife isn’t just about betrayal ... it’s about chasing something. I don’t cheat for the sake of it. I cheat because I crave being noticed like this. Desired like this. Wanted without hesitation.

Roman wasted no time. His hand yanked my top down and his fingers pinched my nipple sharply before my brain even caught up. That sting, that roughness, made my pulse spike. He looked at me with hunger and reminded me I said that I would be naked in his bed.

I kept my promise.

I slid out of my clothes, leaving myself completely exposed, my skin prickling as his eyes devoured me. Roman undressed just as quickly, his cock thick, heavy, already hard. We lay down side by side, naked, vulnerable, both of us fully aware what was about to happen.

At first, he was gentle ... his fingers brushing my cheek, his thumbs circling my nipples. But the tenderness didn’t last long. His grip tightened. He squeezed my breasts roughly, making me gasp. Then he pressed his hand against the back of my head and pushed me down, guiding me to his cock.

He was huge. One of those sizes that makes your stomach clench before you even take it in your mouth. I licked slowly at first, kissing his shaft, teasing the tip, but Roman wanted more. He held my hair, fed it to me, pushing deeper until my lips stretched wide, my throat closing around him.

I gagged, tears stinging my eyes, spit running down my chin, but I didn’t stop. I sucked harder, bobbing my head, licking, spitting, swallowing. My pussy was throbbing, grinding against his thigh for friction as I worked his cock. Roman groaned, rough and primal, his hips thrusting up into my mouth until he hit the back of my throat again and again.

And then he twitched. I felt the heat, the pulse, the sudden flood as he came. Thick cum spurted against my tongue and down my throat, hot and overwhelming. I swallowed greedily, sucking until he sighed and pulled me off, my lips wet, my chest heaving.

 

Taken and Fucked

Before I could even wipe my mouth, Roman grabbed me and flipped me onto the bed. His hands pinned my shoulders down, his cock already sliding inside me. No hesitation. No pause. Just hard, relentless thrusts that made me cry out.

He fucked me from behind, slamming into me, deep and rough. Each stroke made me moan louder, my body trembling as he used me. My nipples scraped against the sheets, my pussy dripping around his cock, my mind spinning with lust and guilt. I was a wife, married, ring on my finger, but here I was getting pounded by another man like I belonged to him.

The sound of his hips hitting me, the stretch inside me, the raw pace ... it drove me wild. My nails clawed at the bed. I begged him not to stop.

Then he pulled me up, laid back, and dragged me onto his lap. His cock slid into me again as I straddled him, gasping, my body flushed with heat. “Ride me fast,” he growled. And I did.

I ground down on him, bouncing, my breasts in his face as he sucked and bit them. I rode him hard, taking him deep, my moans echoing in the room. His hands slapped my ass, gripped my hips, pulling me down harder. I felt his cock throb, his body tense, and then he erupted inside me. The warmth of it made me shudder, my body clenching around him as my own orgasm tore through me.

When it was over, we collapsed together, sweaty, panting, still tangled. Roman stroked my skin as we lay there, and I felt that dangerous rush that keeps me coming back.

It was, without a doubt, the most intense, arousing sex I’ve had so far in this journey. Rough, passionate, filthy in all the right ways. He wants to see me again, and I already know I’ll say yes.

Because that’s the truth of being a cheating wife in Second Life. It’s not just about the sex but it’s about feeling alive again. Being desired. Being fucked like I matter. My husband doesn’t give me that. Roman did. And I’m not done chasing it.