I am married. Let me begin with that. Not just married. Happily married. Satisfied in all the major ways. Or so I thought before I started performing at the club, her club, Emily's club.

As you may have just deduced, I am a musician. A singer-songwriter-guitarist to be exact. Much of my career I have fronted bands but occasionally do the solo acoustic thing which is what led me to Emily. She managed the bar in Philly where I did a monthly acoustic gig - for fun and a little spare change.

It started with laughter, as these things often do. We shared a somewhat perverse sense of humor and were instantly easily sarcastic with one another. I'd linger after my shows and we'd joke and talk. The laughter connection was followed by simple visual observation on my part. I found her sexy. She generally wore faded jeans and ratty t-shirts, her long legs stretching like country highway, her dark Italian eyes and hair playful but cloudy with a little cloudy mystery.

I found myself thinking of her between gigs. Perhaps thinking is not the right word, fantasizing. My wife is on the shorter side and Emily's long legs cast a spell on me. I'd lie awake late at night imagining myself seated on a straight-backed chair with her straddling me, her feet planted as she ground herself onto me. That sort of thing.

The result of all this was a tension that began to emerge. I stared at her more openly as I played and lingered longer after my shows. Our silences gained meaning and we suddenly seemed to be on a collision course of sorts.

Cut to that night.THE night.

She was dressed slightly differently - her ratty CBGB's T-shirt accompanied by a skirt for the first time. Her legs became magnets for my eyes and I had to consciously work not to seek her out each song to drink in the sight of them. She looked too. Met my gazes. Allowed them to stretch and tighten across the crowded room.

I took my time when the show ended. Packing my gear at a snail's pace as the crowd, then the staff, all left. I found her upstairs in her office, seated at a computer which cast the room's only light. She was focused, quiet and there was none of our usual banter as I took the empty seat beside her.

The silence of the room was ruined only by the sound of my rushing blood as I summoned all the courage in my possession. Finally, after an eternity, I dove into the abyss, past the point of no return, and placed my trembling hand onto her thigh, braced for a rebuke that didn't come.

Slow motion beauty, next, as my fingers eased south and she parted for me, almost imperceptibly. The heat from her essence pulled me onward until my fingers finally grazed her opening which, I am thrilled to report was both uncovered and dripping wet.

My brain shut off as I knelt in worship and kissed a trail up her inner thigh, my tongue soon replacing my fingers on her pussy. She draped a leg over the side of the chair affording me better access as I made her mine, waging a pleasure war on her clit.

She gripped handfuls of my hair and pressed me harder down onto her, moaning as she arched and cumming with shuddering ferocity onto my tongue and lips. I held tight through the long, hard shiver and watched in awe as she settled back down to earth.

I stood and she shifted from dazed to hungry as she tugged at the buckle of my belt, undoing it, unzipping my jeans, pushing my lower clothes down as my cock sprang into view.

"Fuck," I sighed as she teased the head, licked the shaft, painted me with her mouth's warm water. Slowly, slowly, slowly I disappeared between her lips. She sucked and started a subtle bob. "Fuck,' I sighed again, "I'm too close."

I lifted her abruptly, bent her forward over the cluttered desk, her knees bending, her feet planted.

"Fuck me," she panted as I plunged into her - going from zero to 80 in no time.

She reached a hand up between her legs to work herself in tight, hard circles as I pound-fucked her, her whole body quaking with each deep thrust.

Within moments she screamed her second orgasm, her clenching, dripping sex inspiring my cum which shot in hard, fast, decisive blasts up into her.