Virgin Vixen Hotwife Desires A Stranger
We have been happily married for almost 20 years and are in our mid-40s. Our children are (for the most part) independent adults. My wife manages a retail store full-time, while I spend the majority of my time advising for different businesses. Normally, I work from home, but occasionally, my job requires me to travel; sometimes, this is just a short distance for a few days, but other times, it’s just far enough that it’s more convenient to stay in a hotel than to make daily trips back and forth.
My wife and I have been trying to devote some time, attention, and energy to ourselves over the past couple of years because we are well conscious that we are almost done with our primary parental responsibilities. We began looking for a few methods to inject some excitement into our love-making and sex play after realising that, while relatively gratifying, our sex life could be more thrilling and enjoyable.
We experimented with taking pictures of her and posting them online, which we found to be fun. She was relieved to see that many men who saw her images thought her body was quite attractive despite her conviction that her 40+ curvy mommy body wouldn’t be attractive to anyone. In reality, she discovered several dozen who were eager to demonstrate their desire for her by jerking off in front of a webcam as she watched. She spoke with her fans as I updated my photos and watched as they stroked their erect cocks that her photos had made hard until they came. She has always found it amusing when a man cums. She gets more excited the larger the load and the farthest he can shoot. However, even a male who has had a vasectomy and doesn’t shoot very far can make a woman feel sexy by stroking, cumming, and demonstrating the cum flow.
I created slideshows out of several of our photo sessions with her wearing various costumes (and stripping out of them), etc. We also recorded some videos of ourselves playing and edited them to share. She appreciated the feedback and eventually confided in me that she occasionally considered how it might feel for some of those stiff cocks men were with her. After she saw those men stroking themselves off for her, she became very wet thinking about those thoughts, and I always enjoyed slipping MY firm cock into her slick wetness.
After extensive discussion, we came to the conclusion that we would both appreciate observing another couple in person. We discussed ideas such as meeting other couples in hotel rooms so they could play on one bed while we played on the other, allowing all of us to watch and be observed, as well as inviting someone to come run the still and video cameras for us. My wife, who had only been with me since we started dating and was only the fourth man she had ever had sex with, finally conceded after much discussion that she was quite turned on by the prospect of taking on a new boyfriend. It also gave her mixed feelings of anxiety, fear, excitement, and nervousness. Before we arrived at the point where this story takes place, we had been chatting about it intermittently for a while.
We had finally reached the decision that our marriage was solid; we cherished one another and anticipated our devotion to one another for all time. With all of that said, we believed we had investigated every possible route for sex play between a couple. We didn’t believe there was anything new that we hadn’t already done or experimented with and were willing to try. Our sexual life was fulfilling, and the attention we had started to give to one another had made us more active. Even yet, it was somewhat predictable, and we both wanted to figure out how to bring back the original spark—that buzzing, thrilled feeling—of it.
Further discussion revealed that my wife truly did want a new lover, and I was thrilled at the idea of her being such a sexual beast and a sexually liberated woman to take one. We put up a few ads on “swinger” and “lifestyle” websites to attempt to find her the appropriate guy because we both felt it was something she’d like and I was cool with. We had to be careful since we didn’t want someone to call her names or treat her like a cum-dump. She simply wanted to have sex with a new person, and I wanted her to take full advantage of the opportunity. After taking our time and being cautious, we eventually discovered Tad as a viable playmate for her. (Thaddeus was his real name, but as he got older he learnt not to like it, so he went by Tad)
Tad, who was in his mid-20s and much younger than we were, was immensely enamoured by Linda’s body. He emailed us after viewing our ad on a website because he was drawn to her curves. I pre-screened him before sending him to Linda (through email). She kept me informed about how things were going, and as she felt comfortable, they transitioned from email correspondence to texting to phone calls. Sext (sex text) messages and unique photographs that they exchanged were mixed in with the phone calls. It got to the point where we asked him out on a date to see if there was actually a connection between him and Linda, and we waited to hear back from him about whether or not that date would work.
In the midst of it, I was given a task that required me to spend six consecutive days working in an office two hours away from my house. It was just far enough away that I would merely stay in a hotel close to the job site instead of making a daily journey. Despite the fact that Linda was working four out of the six days (she had the Saturday and Tuesday off), we both missed one another at night. We missed that presence at night because, after over 20 years of marriage, you really do get used to sleeping close to that special someone. I had a thought while on this trip that I thought Linda could like, so I started my kooky plan.
I first mentioned the concept to her over the phone on Sunday night without really explaining what was going on.
So, sweetie, how much do you believe in me?
She could tell by the way I asked that I had something in mind, so before responding to me, she thought about what it might be. “I believe in you, honey.” Her response was brief.
However, how much? I kept trying. Will you believe me if I ask you to do anything without explaining why or what will occur?
She laughed because she was buying me time to consider whether or not she wanted to go along with whatever I had in mind. She knew I was thinking something sexual (I always am). Will it be fun? she questioned at the end.
I retorted with a smile on my face, “I suppose so. I can’t promise anything, but I believe it will be just enough unusual to pique your interest.
She questioned a little more gravely, “Is it safe?”
I said, “Baby, I love you,” with great seriousness. We both understand that I have a vivid imagination and that I enjoy engaging in sexual play and experimentation, but I would never ask you to do in anything that I didn’t believe to be completely safe for you.
“Okay,” she replied after pausing. “What are you thinking?”
I said, “I don’t want to tell you everything. “I believe that part of what will make it fascinating for you is the unknown. I want to ask you to accomplish a few things and then have faith in me to handle the rest.”
What stuff, she questioned.
I said, “Are you in agreement?”
“to follow your instructions without understanding what they are or what will occur? Are you insane?”
Is that a sign that you don’t believe in me? I queried. The idea reached her. If she truly trusted me, she would do as I requested and have faith that I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. If something did happen to her, she would likely like it and find it amusing.
After a little pause to consider her response, she gave it. She sprang into what she imagined would be a great experience while blindly exiting the abyss. She answered simply, “Yes.”
I smiled broadly as I replied, confident that she could hear me even though she couldn’t see me via the phone. “I need you to accomplish the following: Take a shower and make sure your pussy is well groomed Tuesday morning at 10.” She acknowledged me audibly, but not carefully, in my ear. Make sure the back entrance to the house is unlocked and turn on your favourite pornographic DVD at a volume that fills the entire room at ten thirty. She nodded one more. “Then, after making sure you can’t see anything around it, put on the blindfold and lie down on the bed. Put your hands either side or behind your head, but keep them there and avoid touching anyone, even yourself.”
She resisted that a little bit. She objected to having porn on that she couldn’t see, but she didn’t complain about my ordering her not to touch herself or “anyone else” or about the back door being left unlocked while she was blindfolded and naked in bed. “If I can’t view porn, what’s the point?”
She could hear and comprehend my frustrated sigh because I sighed loudly and for a long enough period of time. The purpose of the porn isn’t for you to see; rather, it’s so you may have erotic background music as you enjoy your journey and block out any other sounds that would reveal what I have in store for you. I took a moment to reflect on that. Do you agree to comply with my request and believe that you will find enjoyment in doing so?
There was a protracted pause. It dragged on for so long that I began to doubt that she would ever respond. “Well?” I initiated.
She said, sounding anxious, “Okay.” You’d better be skilled at what you’re doing.
I smiled and added, “You’re going to have a nice time, sweetheart,” as I considered my strategy. Just make sure the back door is unlocked by 9:30, that you are naked and blindfolded in bed within a few minutes, and that loud porn is playing in the background.
Yes, sweetie, she replied, and this time I heard a smile from her. We said our goodbyes and I hung up thinking of the things she will soon be able to enjoy.
She didn’t mention Tuesday until just before we hung up on our final chat on Monday night, despite the fact that we had numerous conversations and sent each other a few texts on Monday. So, she inquired, “Am I still to be prepared as you instructed tomorrow morning?”
I simply responded, “Yes.”
After pausing, she said, “Okay. I love you”
I answered, “Love you too,” and added, “G’night,” before hanging up.
Vixen Linda’s Viewpoint
I tried to understand Dave’s intentions when we hung up the phone Sunday night. I was certain that I could depend on him to never do anything to damage me. I was also aware that he occasionally looked for ways to “push the envelope,” and that most of the time I did too. Since I was too timid to just say, “Let’s do this,” he would have to find a way to talk me into it. Truth be told, I knew there were occasions when I wanted to attempt something, and he knew I wanted to try it. Therefore, I was confident that whatever would occur on Tuesday morning, I would enjoy myself. I was so certain in it that the thought of it made me happy. As I’m sure he was aware, some of the excitement came from not knowing what would happen once I completed his request.
On Monday, the thought was on my mind whenever work slowed down, and when I went to bed that night, I dreamed of all the possible outcomes. I was also all too conscious of how wet my pussy was as a result of the excitement of the unknown as I dozed off.
Tuesday morning, I awoke from nightmares in which a nameless stranger inserted his steel-like erection into my soggy sex. I had a pleasant morning as usual, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how slowly the time was passing. When it was nine thirty, I was going through our meagre pornographic library when I came across a DVD that showed scenes of women being FUCKED—by multiple guys at once, each of whom was equipped with significant sex objects. My own started flowing freely once more as I imagined those massive cocks reaching wide and digging deep into hungry pussies. Why had Dave warned me not to touch “anyone else” or myself? Who would enter this space? Although I knew he was away and couldn’t be there, I couldn’t believe he’d let anyone else in. What was the strategy he had for me? The more I considered it, the more I knew I had no choice but to comply with his request as I had promised to do and take pleasure in whatever my husband had in store for me.
By ten, I had shaved my pussy as close to the skin as I dared, and in the shower, I carefully shaved the area surrounding my thatch to smooth out the edges and give it a lovely shape. My mind was racing with ideas. Who will see the professional trim job I’m doing, I wondered. Then I reasoned that Dave would never invite a complete stranger into the house to have sex with me without first alerting me. Next in my mind was, “What if the person is not a stranger? What if the person coming to treat me gently while they fuck me is someone he knows and trusts? Had he gotten in touch with Tad, who was coming to fuck me?” My pulse was racing with panic as my mind began to spin from all the possibilities. I briefly questioned if I would be able to pull this off.
I inhaled deeply a few times while I dried off, keeping each one in for a moment before slowly expelling it. The husband I knew. I had a great marriage. Without a doubt and without conditions, my hubby adored me. In my heart and soul, I was absolutely certain that he would never do anything to jeopardise my safety. He was confident that I would appreciate whatever he had in store. He wanted me to take pleasure in it.
Holding on to that idea and sensing the juices of my newly washed and dried pussy running down the inside of my thighs, I quickly put on the blindfold at ten thirty, turned up the porn so that it was all I could hear, and lay down on the bed. Even though I knew something sexual was going to happen, I closed my legs politely as I lay on top of the covers with the heat turned up in the house. I would not open my legs until I received a cue that I should do so, even though whoever was about to enter would undoubtedly see me naked. My pussy felt hot and moist, and I was honest enough with myself to confess that I really wanted to have my legs spread wide. I also urgently wanted to feel a rock-hard cock sliding into me.
A little while afterwards, I felt someone else in the room more than I could hear them. I was unable to hear the rear door open or close, anyone going down the hallway, or them entering the bedroom because of how loud the porn was playing and the shouts and groans of ecstasy streaming from the television. My pussy gushed at the overt sexiness of the situation, yet my pulse raced with terror of the unknown. I thought it was a man since I could feel him standing there and sense his eyes on me. What did he think? I questioned WHO HE WAS.
I became aware that I was gasping for air in an effort to hear what was happening. I let out a breath and successfully controlled my breathing up until I felt the bed move. I felt another person join me on the bed, and my breath stuck in my throat. Although I wasn’t quite in the middle of the bed, I was closer to Dave’s side. I was on my side when someone climbed onto the bed next to me. Dave would he do that? He wouldn’t get up on his own side of the bed, would he?
I became acutely aware of my thoughts and anxieties when the hand touched my thigh. On my bed, I was nude, passionately excited, and blind. On the bed with me was someone I might or might not know, but I was unable to quickly identify them. They could have had me for sexual purposes, though I wasn’t even aware who it was.
The hand lightly caressed my thigh before moving back down toward my knee, up the front of my leg, slightly over toward my pussy, and then down again. The pressure applied by the finger tips to my skin was almost nonexistent, and the touch only served to stoke my wants while amplifying my anxiety of the present situation.
The fingers crossed to the other side and then returned, trailing their tease up and down the front of my leg. The fingers began to press harder over time, indicating that the person wanted my thighs spread. My thighs were softly pushed apart as a result of dragging my right thigh up and toward them and pushing my left thigh down and away from them. I didn’t squeeze my thighs together so that the person would have to press firmly, but instead my breathing became deeper and more aroused. Even though I was terrified at the prospect, I was honest enough with myself to realise that I shared their ambitions. As I prepared this morning, my aspirations, which had been building since Sunday evening, came bursting out. I had to open my thighs in order to get the attention my pussy so much needed.
I slowly followed his instructions as his fingers gently stroked up my right thigh, down my left leg, across my tummy just above my pubic line, and back up my right thigh. I think I spread my thighs an inch at a time with each of his strokes, each movement raising my excitement and terror levels. In my mind’s eye, I could picture the man gazing intently into the moist centre of my womanhood, locking eyes with my pussy by this point swollen inner lips, and displaying a hunger that was obvious in his face. Was my want as clear on my face as I had imagined it to be on his? I couldn’t help but wonder.
My thighs were far apart for him to touch my married pussy. His fingers curled more deeply and pressed into the wet slit of my sex as they continued to travel up the inside of my right thigh. My thighs continued to feel like they were about to jump apart, and I quickly lost my breath. These unknown fingers seemed to charge up as they touched you. My clit was buzzing and throbbing. I yearned to be penetrated by his solid (and presumably respectably large) shaft.
His fingers no longer dragged down the length of my thigh. He touched my pussy and kept his fingers there. They spread me, measured how wet I was, and slid so delectably into me as I felt them gliding up and down between my lips. It was delightful because I was longing to be satisfied—hell, I was craving anything that could go inside of me. It was annoying because just one finger wasn’t anywhere close to being what I needed. I wanted something thicker, longer, and with the weight of this man driving his thick, firm cock into my pussy till our pelvises brushed and we were grinding to make sure I got everything he had to offer.
My ample pussy juices were smeared up around my clit by his fingers as they slipped in, moved around, then slid out, making my hips bounce and my entire pelvis feel like it was on fire. It then made its way back down my slit and slid right back up into me. He was pressing his finger into me so hard that I could feel the pressure. Then it vanished once more, and as he slipped two fingers into me, it instantly felt better. Even if the stretch was insufficient, it was exquisite in comparison to just that one finger.
Then I felt my orgasm start to rise as he started to pump those two fingers in and out of me, giving me tremendous pleasure. It was clear to me from away that it was going to be intense and incredibly enjoyable. The fingers then were removed in a perplexing, infuriating manner. Why did he do that? Was he crazy? Did he not realise how much I needed them? How much more I really needed. My thighs spread even wider, seemingly of their own accord, and my hips raised slightly as if offering up my sex for me, as if my body were speaking for me in an unconscious way, even if it was only subconsciously.
The bed began to move more after that. He was placing himself above me, between my welcoming and wide-open thighs, when I felt the weight change from beside me to between my legs. He was getting ready to take me, complete his conquest, and fill me with his magnificent cock. I yearned for two things with all of my heart and soul: first, to put my hands on his hips and bring his pelvis into mine; and second, to feel his length and thickness spearing into my pussy, feeling it stretch me open and penetrate me deeply. Until I had an orgasmic fit around it, I wanted to feel his manhood stroking in and out of my wet sex. More than that, I wanted to enjoy his pumping and stroking motions until his own climax overcame him and he injected his cream into me. At the time, it appeared to be my sole reason for existing.
My First thought after he came was I need to thank my husband,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,but that is for another day
