It hadn't been that hard to get to sleep, even feeling guilty. Trish really had been tired, the up all night thing, the constant fucking with her younger lover. Physical exhaustion trumped conscience, and she was actually still a little sore in a few places the next morning when she woke, but sore in a good way. Typical Monday, fixing breakfasts, preparing lunch for Chris to take with him, a quick shower, dropping the children off.<br/><br/>By nine she was alone, at the house, and left to think about what she had done over the weekend. How she had cheated on her husband over and over. Not a random fling while she was drunk. No, in the yard,<em>in their bed</em>. Letting a strange man do whatever he wanted to her. She fired off a text to Chris,<em>i'm really sorry about last nite. I was just worn out. I love you</em><br/><br/>It didn't make her feel any better about it. God she had actually been making jokes about him, little petty cruelties. Even after he had gotten back from his trip, when she slipped away to that house and blew him in someone else's home. She was terrible!  But thinking about, remembering it, had filled her with more than guilt. It had also made the middle aged housewife extremely hot. Of course she shouldn't, she should just quit now while she was ahead- and she resolved to herself to<em>not</em>doing anything, but a little teasing didn't hurt, right?  By now her hand was between her legs and she was laying back on the sofa, teasing herself. Slipping out of her bottoms and her panties she touched more, slipped a pair of fingers inside herself.<br/><br/>And took a photo and sent it to Mark.