At first it is the thrill of the forbidden. That wears off, it's only human. So we start skirting danger. We get bolder with every new affair.We just have to.Plus, I am a sensual woman. I collect treats for my senses. They are like spices. Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Hot peppers too, of course.I am a hunter/gatherer. I take my spices home for my husband and me. He doesn't know where I pick them. He doesn't even know that I pick them. But he enjoys.I won't lie to you.I don't do it for him. I do it mainly for myself. Once in a while I have to indulge. It is like the need to plunge into a shimmering pool on a scourging day. Like the soothing balm on a parched skin. A cooled can against a sweaty brow.You get it, I'm sure.It is my escape from yawning boredom. It saves my life. And George's, my husband's, for that matter. So in the end, I guess I do it for him, too. In a way.But yes, it can't last. I push myself closer to disaster with every step. The lusting for the thrill will be. This is where you are aware but cannot move, speak due to paralysis.I arrived to be met by Dawn, she is about 55 tall ,blonde with a nice figure for her age, I'd been seeing Stuart for a few months now and giving him passive therapy. I'd always got on with both of them very well, obviously not much input form him due to his condition, she was always a bit flirty, today being no different except she was doing it in front of him. As I was doing his therapy she was massaging my shoulders in full view of him, this was making it quite difficult for me to concentrate on the job in hand, I asked her to stop which thankfully she did. She moved behind Stuarts wheelchair, I carried on working, I glanced up at her, she was wearing a white blouse slightly open showing off her magnificent cleavage, I could see a white lacey bra underneath. Her yellow skirt was tight showing off her well formed body, legs encased in what I could see from this angle were black stockings, fuck not bad for her age,.
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