My story as the unsuspecting wife is so typical. I met my first and only lover at university, married him at graduation after receiving my degree in architecture, raised the twins and was the supportive stay at home wife and mum while he concentrated on his career. All the while, hubby was advancing steadily and meeting attractive and exciting women. I totally missed the classic signs of a wandering husband - him paying more attention to personal grooming, staying late at work in the evenings, weekend business trips to which I was not invited, furtive mobile calls at home, etc. The blow came after 23 years of marriage a few months after the twins graduated from university. One weekend morning, I found his bags packed and he told me he was leaving for a much younger woman he met at work. At age 45 my marriage was gone, I had no job, and I thought my life was over. If it weren't for my few women friends who made it their mission to keep me form wallowing in self-pity and depression, I would have hit rock bottom. Instead, within a few months I started my long delayed career in architecture. And within about a year, I even stopped viewing men in general as the enemy, but I wasn't prepared yet to let them pay attention to me as a woman. I would go out on Friday nights with my women friends, but resisted all attempts by them to 'fix me up', let alone be receptive to men approaching me when out on my own or at work. That was two years ago when I was 47, and my story continues from there. My firm specializes in renovating hotel lobbies and other related public areas. My specialty is working up the interior designs that will achieve the intended new look. The work requires a fair amount of on-site travel during the initial design stage and again as the project nears completion. The design stage travel is a lot of fun as one meets with the client's corporate and local managers, and other key people. I've been told I'm very attractive with a pleasing figure and once my attitude toward men healed, men I met at work and on travel started coming on to me. There were lots of subtle, and not so subtle, offers of overnight companionship. After about a decade of marriage with infrequent and boring sex, and then two years of no sex at all, I considered taking advantage of these offers since I was feeling almost whole as a woman. The first opportunity that appealed to me occurred about two years ago during the initial on-site design meetings for a new project. He was the client's corporate director of marketing and the upcoming project was his responsibility. He was in his mid-50s, tall, handsome, and debonair. After the first day's meetings, he asked me to dinner to work out some concept details. Same thing for luncheon and dinner again the second day. At the meals, he was professional yet considerate, attentive, and interesting. Although there was a bit of mild flirting on his part, he was also a gentleman, and I thoroughly enjoyed what were truly working meals. After a bit of flirting on his part near the end of our working dinner the second night, I finally asked if he were trying to seduce me. He smiled as he reached for my hand, held it between both of his, and gazed into my eyes, then replied, "Yes. I find you incredibly attractive and bewitching. I'm divorced and have no current attachments. If you are not interested, it will not have any adverse impact on your effectiveness on this project, but I hope you do have some interest in exploring this further." I was taken by his forthrightness, plus he was charming and sexy, but told him I was undecided. We drank our wine at the dinner table and continued talking for quite a while. I told him about my marriage, and the subsequent divorce and its aftermath. We retired to the bar where we had more wine and conversation, and also danced some slow dances with my head on his shoulder. He had been making me melt with a slowly burning desire the whole evening. Finally, I lifted my head from his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "I'm finished deciding - the answer is yes." We made our way to the lift holding hands. Once in his room, I kicked off my shoes and stood in front of him near the bed in my black sheath evening dress, with only my bra and tights underneath. As I stood there with a passion rising in me that I had not felt in many years, but also a nervousness about having my first ever new man, I said to him, "My husband had been my only lover. During the last decade or so of our marriage, sex was infrequent and mostly unsatisfactory, and during the two years since we split, I haven't been with a man. So I'm not that experienced and definitely out of practice." He listened attentively, then approached and kissed with me, gently at first, then with a rising passion. I was hesitant at first, but soon realized I liked the way he was kissing me, using the tip of his tongue to explore and seduce, advance and retreat. It was masterful the way he brought out my passion with his kisses. I had never been kissed that way before, and I suddenly realized my nervousness was gone and I couldn't wait to have his hands explore my body and give me the sexual pleasure I had been denied for so long. When we finally leaned back from each other, I told him I wanted his hands on me, but slowly and deliberately, then surprised myself by saying, "Rather than us fumbling with each other's clothing, why don't we undress and then you can take your time showing me what it's like to be a desirable woman." He smiled and said that would suit him very well. As we undressed, we watched each other with approval as our bodies became uncovered by stages. When his manhood appeared, I couldn't take my eyes off him. Even hanging down limp, he was almost as long and wide as hubby was fully erect. He saw me staring as he stepped out of his last bit of clothing, then stood up facing me and asked if I would like to use my hands to get him hard. I shyly nodded a 'yes' and he moved up to me. I put my hands out and slowly stroked and caressed him. His rising manhood felt wonderful to my touch, firm yet resilient, and I soon had it fully erect. I'm quite tall, only a few inches shorter than him, so when he moved his body into me, his manhood slipped into the 'V' at the top of my thighs and slid along my wet groove. When he gently thrust his hips into me, his cock sliding along my groove gave me a hint of things to come. At the same time, he pulled my upper body into his, ran his hands up and down my back, and we resumed out passionate wet kisses. He soon brought his hands around to my chest and caressed my breasts and rubbed my nipples between his fingers. He was making my body come alive with arousal, and I already desperately wanted to feel him in me. He whispered, "Let's get on the bed." I smiled and nodded as he led me onto the middle of it and urged me down on my back. He spread my legs with his hands and I raised my knees to give him total access. He knelt and lowered his face to my womanhood, opened me with his fingers, and drew his tongue up my slit in a long slow stroke. He repeated it, then again and again as he pushed his fingers inside. Between his tongue licking me, his fingers plundering my cavern, and my arousal from anticipating his large cock plunging into me, I quickly started moaning out my rising passion. I was his and wanted everything I had been missing. I soon came with groans and cries of intense joy and release. My hips were jerking so much he had difficulty keeping his mouth on me, but he managed until my body was spent. When I finished, but before I could recover my composure, he replaced his tongue with the head of his cock and slowly and steadily pushed it in me. I was being wonderfully stretched and could feel the ridges and veins as it slid all the way in. He paused and asked, "Am I too much for you?" I placed my arms around his shoulders and pulled his upper body down onto me replying, "No, you feel wonderful inside. Make me feel like a woman again!" As he began stroking in and out with long slow thrusts, I put my legs behind his thighs and pulled his hips into me in time with his thrusts. He soon sped up and my own movements followed pace. Achieving a certain tempo, he stroked into me steadily until I climaxed with a shattering shout of release, crying out, "I'm coming! Keep going! Don't stop!" He kept pounding into me, prolonging my pleasure. I rode the waves of orgasm as long as I could, finally slumping back in completion. He lay on me, his cock still rampant inside me, and we hugged and kissed as I finished coming down. When I recovered enough to be able to talk, I looked up into his face, smiled and said, "That was shattering! I haven't felt such an intense passion in years, maybe decades, but you haven't come, unless I missed it." He gave me a broad smile, almost a grin, and replied, "No, I didn't. A man can't show a lady she's a desirable woman with only one orgasm. The night is young!" I gave him my broadest smile as he started moving in me again. His technique was superb, knowing when to thrust steadily, when to speed up or slow down, and when to go into the short strokes and push me over the edge into a climax. This second bout also ended with me having an intense orgasm, but he held off again. I reveled in the afterglow of completion, my limbs wrapped around him as he lay contentedly in me again. This time I urged him to come by telling him I'm one of those women whose orgasms are intensified when they feel their man coming in them with shouts of completion. He took the hint and our next bout ended in an extremely satisfying mutual climax. I loved the feel of his hot, sticky essence shooting into me, as well as when some of it oozed out around his cock and smeared over my crotch during his subsequent thrusting, and when the residual dribbled out of me and dripped down my crotch and onto the sheets. I know some women refer to this as 'the mess', but it makes me feel like a completed woman and I never rush to clean up. We slept for a few hours, when I felt him bringing me to consciousness by gently sucking my nipples and slowly fingering me. I looked up at him as he watched my face, smiled broadly with contentment, then rising pleasure, and said, "I think someone wants some more!" He grinned and replied, "There's no way a man can sleep the whole night through with a desirable woman without wanting a repeat performance!" I giggled, then reached down and found his cock fully erect and throbbing with desire. I laughingly said, "It feels like your 'friend' is anxious to show me I'm that desirable woman!" He replied, "You have no idea! We've been waiting for you to wake up." He then turned serious and rolled between my legs, which I quickly opened to give him access to my pussy, which was still sopping wet from our previous bouts of passion. He slid into me with a single thrust, then established a steady rhythm. I wrapped my limbs around his body, urging him onward with my return thrusts. We rose quickly to an almost mutual climax with me shouting out my arrival and him grunting as he came in me shortly thereafter. We hugged and kissed as we recovered, then lay entangled in each other's arms and legs as we enjoyed our post-coital glow, then feel asleep. He woke me the same way in the morning and we made love with me on top, then finished with me on my hands and knees getting pounded from the rear until it felt like he would drive himself completely through me with the violence of his thrusts. It felt fabulous to feel his passion for me. His cries of climax rang in my ears and, after he was finished coming, we cuddled together with our bodies entangled for as long as we could before we had to get ready for our first meeting of the day. Intermittently throughout the morning meetings, I reveled in the remembrance of our wonderful time together in bed and the incredible orgasms he gave me. By lunch time, I was so wet I had to return to my room and change my knickers. The two of us had another working lunch, then a non-working dinner together where we talked, flirted, and generally turned each other on. We cut short the dancing because it was too difficult to not caress each other while dancing close together. We hurriedly returned to his room where we again spent the night having 'close encounters'. We spent the rest of the week together in his bed at night. By the end of the week, he had helped me become a real woman again and I returned home feeling self-assured as a woman and confident in my new found sexuality. In the two years since then, men have certainly found me desirable. I have sexual encounters on travel whenever I desire them since it is a rare travel when I'm not sought out by an attractive man, either one of the client personnel or a man staying at the hotel on other business. An affair with them is self-limiting to the one week or so I am there as it's generally too inconvenient to continue it long distance. I never have men from my own firm as lovers, either on travel or at home, because there are too many potential complications. If this sounds a bit harsh, so be it, it is my choice and my life, not theirs. I sometimes silently thank my ex for leaving me as my life now revolves around my women friends, my career, especially since I have been promoted to assistant chief of one of our firm's four main design teams, and around my children since I thoroughly enjoy my visits with them when our schedules permit. As they have matured into wonderful adults with their own lives, I have become very close to them, much closer than before the split, and we have evolved into adult friends. They seem to have a new respect for me as a person beyond me being their mum since I'm more than holding my own in my chosen career and enjoy a full and independent life. As for men, I am happy with the frequency and depth of the male companionship and sex I get when on travel. I don't need nor seek a long term relationship. And, just recently, my ex made it known through the twins that he is interested in reconciling with me. No way, but that's another story as his marriage to the 'younger woman' devolved into a domestic disaster and, after hearing about my evolution as a woman, he finally realizes the prize he threw away.