I have a couple of tales of my decline, from minister's daughter and faithful wife up already, but I thought I would tell you about some of the incremental steps of my willing corruption. It didn’t start with a kiss….. No, my infidelity didn’t start with a kiss, that would be betraying my husband. Instead, my decline began with sexual favours shall we say. Whether they favoured me or the other parties I don’t know, I never asked. I am a voluptuous, desirable woman, who married young, and as my sexual curiosity grew stronger, I sought experiences beyond my tall, handsome, wealthy, boring husband. I travel a great deal with my work, staying in 5 star hotels. Alone with the luxuries of king size beds, room service, and spas. So, it started with contrived exposure to beautiful young bell-boys. I would dress in expensive lingerie and a silk robe and wait for a likely victim to deliver champagne to my room. I always wear demi cup bras that my breasts nearly overflow. I used to wear silk knickers, because they are elegant. But I have my pussy (what is your preferred word, cunt?) completely waxed every 2 weeks, it is silken smooth, so eventually I moved to completely sheer g-strings. You don’t endure that experience to not have it be seen I say. When my victim arrived (if he looked old enough to be legal, and ‘likely’ I might add) I would answer the door clutching my robe closed with one hand, breathless as if I had rushed to the door. If he suited me, I would allow him in to place the tray down, then if I could see the anticipation in his eyes, whilst I signed the docket, I would fumble, and drop the pen, as we both hurried to pick it up I would forget to keep my hand to my robe, and I would stand up, as would my victim, his eyes travelling up my body so slowly. I always apologized, in the early days. They always blushed, but one thing leads to another twenty in my experience. Making voyeurs out of room service waiters and an exhibitionist out of myself wasn’t enough and I extended this scenario inevitably. It was in Sydney eventually, that I took the next step, in a room with floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the bridge and the harbour. I asked my victim, on this occasion a tall slim young man, with almost black hair, and bright blue eyes, a combination I have always fancied. to point things out. I said I wasn’t familiar with Sydney, so he came to the window with me. The room was largely in darkness, but the entry lights were on, behind us, so we were both reflected clearly back into the room. I stood ahead of him, nearer the window, and made no attempt to hold my robe to my body. I could watch him, watching me, even as he pointed to Luna Park, his eyes never left the image of my body he could see. I turned to him, and asked did he like the sights, he nodded, slyly, not dumbly, then I knew it was game on. I said I wanted to tip him, what would he like, my bra or my knickers? As willing as he was, he blushed and said my bra, well since you could see through my knickers and not my bra, perhaps he thought that better value, perhaps he didn’t take me seriously. I know not, but I was in the hotel for 3 nights yet, so I figured that if he knew what awaited him in my room, he was bound to bound to my door with any order I made! I shrugged my robe off, it fell to the floor, I turned back to the window, pulled my long thick hair over my shoulder so he had access to the clasp, and said he could help himself. I am only short, as he moved in behind me, he was breathing heavily over my shoulder, looking down into my heaving, milky cleavage. I pride myself on my smooth and even skin and I spend thousands on myself, indulging in fine creams and lotions. He was also looking into the reflection in the window, as he unclasped my bra, and slid the straps down my shoulders. I turned back to him and let it slide into my arms in front of me, cupping them to myself coquettishly I thought. I said he could go ahead, and he slid the silk finery down my arms, brushing my breasts as he did so. So, I stood before him nearly naked, I lifted and stroked my heavy breasts, and offered one up to him, he put his hands to my waist so tenderly. For a randy youth, I was so surprised, he bent down to suck on one nipple, then the other, then he seemed to weigh one breast in each hand, before massaging them beautifully. I was impressed, I had expect to be mauled in his enthusiasm. I put my hand to his bulging crotch! His trousers were so strained. I will have to help you with that I said, you can’t go back to work like that… Well, I dropped to my knees, loosened his belt, undid his fly to see a beautiful slim straight cock spring up, a respectable 6” I would say. I took it in my hands and looked up at him. Shall I, I asked, he couldn’t speak, he just nodded and mumbled assent. I licked it from end to head, I ran my tongue around the head, all the while looking up at him. I have never fucked anyone but my husband, but oh I have sucked cock before. All before my marriage of course (at the time this happened, not now!), but given that I met my husband at 18 and married at 21, the number would surprise you, ask me sometime. So, my point is, I know what men like. I kept up eye contact, I bobbed my head up and down on his cock, I even nestled it in my breasts for a little titty fuck experience for him. I knew he was close, and I went back to sucking, taking him deep into my throat, but he pulled himself out! I said I was happy to swallow, but he wanted something else…. Will some kind and helpful man out there explain the attraction of cumming on a women’s face to me? I blame porn, now I like porn myself, and my taste is wide and varied, but men, spare a thought for women who like to swallow will you! Anyway, you can guess, he said he wanted to come on me, being in the helpful mood I was by then, I said of course, getting him off was my pleasure in this experience, so I lay back on the bed, he knelt by my side and finished himself off, all over my breasts and face. I played my part, and spread it all over my breasts, before kissing his cock goodbye, as he put it away. He sat down on the bed, obviously spent. I said to him, you will have to get back to work you know or they will think you are lost in my room! He asked me was I OK with what had just happened. I smiled and said that he had just participated in a fantasy I entertained every time I stayed in a hotel on my own. He asked would I be staying long. I said yes, three more nights, and no, this wasn’t the only fantasy I had… He smiled at that. I asked him to see himself out and that was that. It wasn’t of course, he had gotten off, I had only gotten turned on. So I dialed up the porn channel on tv, pulled a dildo out of my bag (oh the story of going to a sex shop on my own, and buying that dildo is a doozy, but another time), and did the honours for myself. Still, I didn’t expect I was going to have to service myself every night that week. Not with room service available 24 hours a day.