Chrissy and Raef have royally fucked things up. I’ve secretly been monitoring her texts with my husband, and for the last three weeks or so they’ve mostly been centered around their boring work shit. Until last night, that is, when I saw this.
“Look. I feel fucking horrible for joking around about the 4th of July thing at lunch today with Kim. Raef totally made it seem like you and everyone already knew about it and that it wasn’t a big deal. Please don’t be mad.”
Then she followed with:
”Raef’s a dick. Guys that get pussy that easy usually are. Not sure why Katerina’s so into him.”
And then:
“Sorry - I definitely should not have said that. Not trying be a bitch, I just hate him. I’m soooooo glad he got pulled to DC for the PAC shit. It’ll be good to get away from his and your wife’s bullshit for a few days. Trust me😉”
So far, my husband hasn’t responded to any of her texts. Not sure why. And last night and so far today he’s acting like everything’s completely normal.
The two of them, Raef and a marketing person were supposed to leave this Thursday for a conference in Nashville. Apparently Raef isn’t going now.
In any event, I don’t know what to fucking do. I obviously can’t be the one to bring any of this shit up.
The truth is, I didn’t tell him about the 7th green because of anything more nefarious than me knowing how pissed he’d be that I took such a potentially scandalous risk. And now all I keep thinking about is how I told him I was too exhausted to fuck when we got gone that night.
I’m on total fucking pins and needles.
2021-07-31 21:15:34 +0000 UTC
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As a hotwife, it’s absolutely critical that you take whatever precautions are necessary to avoid blurring the lines between your mating and your marriage.
Having a bull is for one thing and one thing only. To satisfy a woman’s primal need to be the sexual outlet for savages. The physical alphas who, if left unchecked in a less civilized society, would enjoy the pleasures of your “hospitality” either with or without the consent of your husband.
Just lock me in a confined space for 24 hours every now and then with a tall, y0unger v-shaped brute who can literally smell my pussy in heat, and I’ll be a happy camper for a month or so afterward. My scalp might be a little sensitive for a few days, and my ass might bear the kind of marks that prohibit anything but max-coverage bikini bottoms for a week or two, but when my satisfied bull turns me back over to my loving husband, filthy cunt and all, I will in a perfectly domesticated head-space until my hormones ramp up again.
That’s the way it’s supposed to be anyway.
The only thing a hotwife should ever pine for when it comes to a side stud are those sensations that can only come from his thicker, harder cock reaching the parts of your insides that your husband simply cannot. Nothing more ever. Peri0d.
Which is why I’m sick to my stomach. Because I feel like my obsession with Raef is affecting my marriage. And while I don’t know exactly what to do at this point, I’m confident that I can figure this shit out. Because I need to get back to where I was before.
The problem is Jessica. Fresh over her concerns about STDs and her infidelity being discovered, she’s been texting me incessantly about scheduling a “girl’s night” within the next week or two. She could obviously (and quite easily I might add) fib about a girls night and sneak out completely on her own, but she’s not ready for that. She wants there to be some kernel of truth in the lies she’s now telling to her husband. A touch of cover sprinkled in with a bit of plausible deniability.
And while a mere month or so ago I would have been elated at this level of progression, what the bitch actually wants is another girls night with Raef. For the very first time in her sheltered life she knows what it’s like to be stretched open and penetrated to the hilt by a real man, and now, like the proverbial her0in addict, the little slut needs herself another taste.
And while part of me might actually be down for another little session like what happened on the night of the third, I’ll be damned if I’m relegated to fluffing either one of them.
2021-07-26 13:08:50 +0000 UTC
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Many long time followers know that, every so often, I like to dabble in fiction that’s firmly rooted in my own depraved little fantasies. I’ve recently been jotting down some thoughts about a story involving an NFL team owner, his wife and their adult daughter who become stranded on a deserted island with a recently signed free agent defensive end. Here’s the somewhat rough initial installment. Please let me know if you think it’s a complete dud or if you’d love to find out how our fat-titted protagonist deals with her little situation involving Jamarcus.
Either way, I’d love to know😊
By my best estimation, it’s been 8 weeks and 3 days since our yacht, the Rebecca Mae, went down in the Mediterranean off the coast of Spain. Little did we know that the explosion occurring in the engine room had taken the vessel so quickly that the crew, god rest their souls, never even had the opportunity to send out a distress signal. Whether any search and rescue efforts continued on at this point remained a complete mystery to us. So here we were, stranded on a deserted island, desperately hoping and praying for discovery. But that hope was diminishing ever so slightly with every passing day on the island.
It had all been meant as a little celebratory cruise to Ibiza to blow off a little steam that had built up as a result of the tense negotiations that had finally culminated with the signing of Jamarcus Rambo to a five year $129 million contract with my husband’s NFL expansion franchise, the St. Louis Bison.
My husband John and I, along with our 28 year old daughter Steph (the team’s general counsel) and her husband Martin had flown into Portugal the day before with Jamarcus, his agent Vincent Maxwell and Jamarcus’s little brother, Thomas. We’d spent the night drinking and partying at a place we leased at the Dunas Douradas Beach Club. Our 190 foot yacht, the Rebecca Mae (named after my husband’s saint of a mother), was docked not far away at the Marina de Vilamoura.
In our minds, we were all about to have the time of our lives. Little did we know that things would end so unbelievably tragically.
Fortunately for us, the island that makes for our current home teems with animal life (so far, none of the predatory variety), and possesses both an abundance of fresh fruit and streams swollen with fresh water that trickles down from the gently sloped peak that crowns the center of our prison. For the time being at least, the satisfaction of our basic needs has not been overly problematic.
Unfortunately, all that remain of the 21 souls that had embarked from port a mere 8 weeks and 4 days before were myself, John, Steph, Martin …. and Jamarcus.
There’s so much more to our sordid family history and life of privilege that I could brief you on. But, for now anyway, I believe this adequately explains who we are and the necessary facts surrounding our unusual predicament.
All of which brings me to the present day, and an extremely uncomfortable conversation that I’m about to have with my husband. A conversation about an incident that my daughter and I had in the shallow, crystal clear cove that we use to bathe. An incident that involved Jamarcus.
My daughter and I had stolen away to a small, protected cove along the shoreline that was about a 15 minute walk from out encampment. It was an incomparably beautiful gem that we’d discovered during our second week on the island, and its crystal-clear, warm shallow waters and rocky coastline that guarded its far end, coupled with the high banks that partially shaded its western edge in the late afternoon, made it a perfectly serene and placid location to get away to for a refreshing bath after a morning spent working in the hot sun. Which, as it turns out, is precisely what Steph and myself were in the midst of when Jamarcus stumbled upon us from the palm grove lining the small beach at the cove’s northern edge.
At that particular instant, my daughter and I were chatting with one another about 15 feet from the shoreline as we let the warm Mediterranean breeze air-dry our nude bodies. I vividly recall the sensation of the cove’s gentle waves rhythmically lapping at my ankles as I saw a completely naked Jamarcus appear from the angled palms no more than 30 or so feet away.
Up to this point, the normal barriers of appropriate decorum had been adequately maintained. To my knowledge, Jamarcus had not yet seen either of us bare-breasted or witnessed with his own eyes our matching thickets of jet black pubic hair that sprung from our feminine regions (a trait that no doubt lingered from my Italian ancestry). Nor, for our part, had Steph or I yet seen the physical wonder of Jamarcus in all his nude glory.
The three of us appeared to be equally startled by his abrupt and seemingly unintentional intrusion, which elicited swift and immediate reactions from both my daughter and myself meant to preserve a modicum of our modesty. As I instinctively worked to conceal as much of my soft, round breasts and bikini area as I possibly could, I reflexively apologized to Jamarcus for having dawdled in the cove as long as we had and let him know we were finished and would immediately be on our way. If, that is, he could please turn around just long enough for the two of us to collect our things.
Jamarcus, for his part, made no effort whatsoever to conceal himself and his manhood, and the beast that hung low between his powerful thighs was unlike anything that I or my daughter (I assumed at least) had ever witnessed. My jaw fell slightly ajar as I stared transfixed. Just being in its presence left me with an acute awareness of my own abject vulnerability. And though he literally did nothing more than stand motionless while steph and I quickly made our way to shore, I couldn’t help but feel threatened by his imposing y0ung penis, and my cheeks flushed a bright crimson as I realized that he’d taken clear note of my locked gaze.
And while Jamarcus, a 6’5 defensive end with a 50 inch box jump and almost zero body fat, made absolutely no attempt whatsoever to impede our egress, it was abundantly clear what the effects of the presence of two amply breasted petite females were having on this hormone-fueled specimen. With surprising rapidity (and no external stimulus whatsoever), his massive penis was engorging itself entirely of its own accord, gently twitching and pulsating as it made its way toward its full penetrative capabilities.
Time, I feared, was of the essence. After gathering our personal items, I firmly grabbed my daughter by the elbow and led her from the beach to the small path back to our encampment that had been forged over the prior weeks. On our return, my daughter and I agreed that there was absolutely no reason to alert either of our husbands to what had happened at the cove. And fortunately, the blush had somehow managed to completely leave my cheeks by the time we arrived back at the camp.
That night, however, as I lay unable to sleep next to my husband, I couldn’t help but reflect on what has transpired earlier that day at the cove. How the mere presence of two nude females instantly sparked desire in the belly of the magnificent beast with whom we share this island, and how sooner or later (most likely sooner) his need for pussy would undoubtedly become overwhelming. And I greatly feared that, unless something were to be done, Jamarcus’s need would be primarily focused on the female closest to him in age, our pretty y0ung daughter, Steph.
2021-07-26 00:24:49 +0000 UTC
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For some men, being primarily responsible for manually inducing their own orgasms is an unfortunate way of life. Not that there’s necessarily anything wrong with that, I suppose.
But other, more genetically gifted men, have absolutely no trouble finding an endless parade of fertile y0ung bitches willing to bare their breasts and take a spot on their knees to do all the work in that regard.
Most of these women would readily admit that, if they had their true preference, it would be to position themselves ass-up so that when their stud’s orgasm finally comes, every single drop of it gets deposited just where nature intended.
But sometimes the bastards with best cum like to play hard to get with it. I’ve seen some of the most beautiful women on the planet happily relegated to being an oral cum dumpster for men like these. My senior year, a roommate of mine ( a fellow cheerleader) would often scurry out of bed at 3 am to sprint her ass across campus to blow a backup running back and then come straight home. Oddly enough, I never once saw her do that for her computer science major boyfriend. One time, I’m pretty sure she even snuck out of bed while he was sleeping over to do it.
In any event, that pretty much seems to sum up my relationship with Raef. He very rarely ever wants anything more than my mouth. And as fucking weak as I am when it comes to him, I can never resist letting him use it. And the last two times it’s happened, which were today and last Friday, I’ve kept it a complete secret from my husband, who, for reasons I’ll describe more thoroughly in an upcoming post, happily thinks I’m on the outs with his boss.
In any event, it all makes me even more obsessed about what happened the night of the fireworks between Raef and Jessica. I have a sneaky feeling the two might even be texting one another☹️
2021-07-23 01:58:13 +0000 UTC
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I’ve had lunch twice with Jessica since the incident at the fireworks. Not surprisingly, she’s been in a bit of a panic over what happened. Her primary concerns in order are as follows: (1) the possibility of word of what happened getting out; (2) having potentially been infected by an STD from Raef; and (3) her inability to understand how she lost such complete and utter control herself.
As to her first concern, I’ve repeatedly assured her that what happened that night on the 7th green is absolutely staying there. No one, and I mean no one, has any interest in letting that information leak into the public domain. As to her second, I’ve promised to talk to Raef and have him come in for a routine screening, which I believe he’s actually already scheduled.
So the only one that I haven’t really been able to stem completely at this point is the third. Given the fact she’s a medical professional specializing in women’s reproductive health, I find it somewhat ironic that I’m the one trying to get her to loosen up about a woman’s sexual needs, but things are what they are. I think the part that she finds the most disconcerting is her extremely vivid recollection of actually begging like “a common whore” for Raef to push his way inside of her, just as he’d predicted she would. In her words, her behavior was so out of character that the whole night has an almost surreal and out of body feeling about it. Like it was an entirely different woman on her back with her legs splayed apart for Raef.
I’ve assured her that the compartmentalization she’s experiencing is entirely natural for a woman who’s been raised in a Western judeo-Christian culture. Sadly, as I’ve written about often in the past, we’re brought up as y0ung girls to suppress our completely natural biological drives. The fact that she gave into an overwhelming impulse to let herself be bred by the hottest guy at our club doesn’t so much signal any type of problem or deficiency with her so much as it affirms that she’s a completely attractive and healthy female in her sexual prime.
But interestingly, while she’s clearly struggling internally over what happened that night, she was also extremely curious to know if I’d had any opportunity to talk with Raef about what happened. It turns out, as she sheepishly confided to me, that she’s been extremely embarrassed about the state of “pubic situation” that night. According to her, sex with her husband is so infrequent that she doesn’t bother to trim and shave much these days. I find it somewhat humorous that the little slut’s actually been fretting about what Raef might have thought of her extremely hairy cunt. I laughingly assured her that, if the state of Raef’s cock that night was any indication, I wouldn’t be one bit concerned at all.
At our second lunch, which was at the club a week ago yesterday, my entire objective was to was simply get her to move beyond her regret and open up about all the positives of the experience. Basically, I want to shift her focus from worrying about her health and marriage to appreciating the blessings that come from being a female in her position. To acknowledge out loud that her sweet and loving husband simply can’t provide her with the feeling of being so completely exposed and submissive the way that such a sexy and dominant male like Raef can. To accept that she reveled in having her cheating little pussy owned by him that night for the entire duration that it took to get him off. Because if I’m ever going get the little slut to stray again, I need to do my best to create as many positive associations in her mind about our naughty little escapade as possible.
I’ve also confided a few things about the evening that I hope will help to cement something of a connection between the two us. The reality is that I wasn’t simply an onlooker to what happened to Jessica that night. I had an active role in the entire course of events. Not only was it my storytelling and the probing touch of my sensitive fingertips that initially alerted Raef to what a horny little girI she was, but it was the gentle pressure I applied immediately thereafter that initiated the entire cascade of sensations that ultimately lead to her quick and frantic whore’s bath in the family restroom at the clubhouse a mere 20 minutes later.
But there were two other additional little items that she might not have been aware of at the time. Things that I did entirely of my own accord. The first involved a spicy hot little moment when Raef’s erection somehow slipped out of Jessica. Almost reflexively, I released my hold on her panties and quickly grasped him by his shaft to immediately redirect him back inside my pretty y0ung doctor. I think the suddenness of my reaction took Raef a bit by surprise, but such was my overwhelming zeal to see our little scenario all the way through to its filthy conclusion.
I also let her know about another hot little compulsion that I’d been overcome by, this one occurring when Raef so kindly alerted us all to his pending orgasm. Something inside of me literally needed to be as much a part of it as I possibly could, so with no permission or direction from Raef whatsoever, I took it upon myself to reach between his powerful thighs from behind and cradle his balls in my hand while simultaneously releasing the dirty little crotch of Jessica’s panties to wrap the thumb and index finger from my other hand tight around the base of Raef’s gorgeous penis. I somehow managed to accomplish this feat just in time to feel the very first blast of his thick cum pulse through his shaft before sho0ting into Jessica’s womb. The tightening of his balls coupled with the repeated spasms of his erection as he pumped every single drop of his virile semen into her pristine cunt was beyond erotic.
Finally, I told her how I’d made a point of returning the crotch of her panties to its rightful place the exact instant Raef that pulled his spent penis from her pussy. Expressing to her how much I wanted her to experience the delicious sensations that can only come from an illicit lover leaking into the crotch of a woman’s panties. My final gift to her of the magical night.
But one thing that I’ve purposely avoided up until now is applying any pressure on her whatsoever to continue the journey down this path. At this point, that would come across as much too heavy handed. She’s had her first little taste of being a woman for a man like Raef. So, from my perspective, there’s nothing left for me to do but sit back and let her come to me.
Plus, if I’m being completely honest, I’m not entirely certain that I want anything further to happen between her and my bull. So, if this little adventure is going to continue, we may just have to get the pretty little slut one of her own. The trouble will be in finding one who can follow up such an amazing first act.
Check your DM. for the full video. You may see more of my face than you normally do. 😉
2021-07-19 19:03:05 +0000 UTC
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I’ll never forget the walk back to the clubhouse from the 7th green. The grand finale had just ended, and there was a haze that hung in the air that gave everything a slight feeling of a mystery. It was most certainly a mystery to my husband as to where I’d disappeared off to, but since he hadn’t been blowing my phone up with texts and calls, I took it as a sign that he’d been fine on his own for the evening. At that point, I made the decision to keep this little shenanigan under my hat. Hubby had no need to know about this one.
Jessica’s husband, on the other hand, had been texting and calling her continuously for the past 10 minutes. An excuse was definitely going to be in order for her, and we decided that it was probably best for Raef and Sanja to bypass the clubhouse and head directly to their car. I would personally take the grenade from her hubby for dragging her off with me, and offer up something about needing some girl time with my new BFF. Fortunately, the 4th of July fireworks bring out a huge gathering with virtually the entire clubhouse open, so it’s actually quite easy to get separated from a spouse and have a bit of difficulty finding them again.
The excuse for her absence definitely wasn’t going to be an issue. The real issue would be her sitting in an enclosed automobile with her husband for the 20 minute drive back to their house. If she was going to maintain the status quo of her marriage, she desperately needed a quick pit stop in the ladies room.
As I stood guard for her outside the family restroom between the club’s main entrance and the coat room, I couldn’t help but think about what had just happened. How Jess had been completely compliant as Sanja positioned herself perfectly and grabbed her slender ankles to lift them back toward her head. How the sight of her thick black pubic hair peaking from the edge of her delicate thong seemed so erotic.
But mostly, I couldn’t help but remember how ready I’d been at that moment to engage in whatever depraved humiliation Raef might have in store for me. With her legs held back as far as they were, there was no part of her that wasn’t accessible with only a slight tug on the gusset of her panties. Would Raef command me to rim my gorgeous little doctor’s anus with the tip of my tongue? Or maybe, while eating out her hairy cunt for his pleasure, he’d have me bury my ring finger inside of her ass all the way to the point of making direct contact with perimeter of my wedding band. My pussy tingled at the prospect of all of it. I was ready to sniff, lick and penetrate whatever my gorgeous y0ung bull wanted.
But, to my complete and utter dismay, the asshole no longer wanted any further participation from me. He simply wanted some assistance in staking his new claim. Literally staking it. While my attention had been focused exclusively on the soft reproductive parts of my pretty little doctor, Raef had removed his thick erection from the confines of his khakis and was in the process of positioning himself between Jessica’s parted thighs.
“Katerina, I need you to hold those panties to the side for me,” Raef calmly said in a tone that signaled he was all business.
“Oh my god!” Jessica gasped. “This is not fucking happening. That thing is literally twice the size of my husband’s, for Christ’s sake. You cannot, cannot, cannot put it inside of me.” Her tone seemed to suggest that it was only the size of it that seemed to intimidate her, which I took positively.
“Relax,” Raef replied soothingly. “I just want to slide my cock in between those swollen pink lips a few times. It would be a complete shame for such an aroused pussy to go to waste.” Then adding “ I promise not to do one thing that you don’t beg like a slut for me to do first.”
So lost in the moment I was that I don’t even remember pulling Jessica’s panties to the side for Raef, but I had. Her aroused vagina, now completely exposed, had completely swollen open. The thick bush that normally (and probably quite zealously) guarded her opening had been relegated to the side by her fully blossomed labia. No bull on the planet would have bypassed such an overt invitation to mate as the one currently being signaled by Jessica. I was fairly confident that her husband had never experienced her in such a shameless state.
I watched as Raef used the thumb of his right hand to direct his erection downward as he parted his knees to lower his pelvis just enough for the tip to ease itself between the soft lips of Jessica’s soaked pussy. To his credit, he stayed true to his word. While I’m certain that it took a colossal effort to keep himself from pressing forward ever so slightly and fully claiming this cheating little slut for his own, he somehow held back.
Applying just enough pressure to keep Jessica’s labia splayed to either side of his hard cock, Raef shifted his hips ever so slightly, causing the upward motion of his erection. At a glacially slow pace, the tip of my bull’s perfect manhood journeyed toward Jessica’s clit. And as it crashed at its agonizingly slow pace into her fully exposed clitoris, I could almost feel the lightning storm go off inside of Jessica’s head. And in the most delicious of coincidences, as she fell completely in thrall to the pleasures that can only come from something as decadently illicit as what was transpiring on the 7th green, the Bushwood fireworks began to go off to the sounds of John Philip Sousa in the distance.
It wasn’t until I was laying in bed next to my husband later that night that I realized I was no longer aroused at the point in time where Raef’s penis began gliding its way back and forth along Jessica’s sublimely hairy cunt. As much as I’d wanted this exact event- to see Jessica relenting to her inner cat in heat- to mold her into something more like me, there was also no satisfaction in seeing her with her legs held apart like a common whore for Raef’s pleasure.
What I was feeling at that moment in time was way more volatile and entirely unexpected. I had handed Raef an absolutely gorgeous little playmate on a silver platter, and the two were clearly enjoying the company of one another way more than I possibly could have anticipated. The tunnel vision I’d cultivated from the single mindedness of my determination had left me completely unprepared for the fruits of my efforts.
What I was experiencing on the putting green at that point in the evening was pure, unadulterated jealousy.
2021-07-17 21:58:03 +0000 UTC
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So here’s what happened next.
Jessica was reclining on the gentle downslope of the putting green and propping herself up on her elbows. On Raef’s direction, I repositioned myself on my knees next to her, never once releasing my eyes from hers. Until, that is, I placed my left hand on the inner side of her left knee. Sensing no inclination on her part to stop me, I slowly began to slide my hand up Jessica’s soft inner thigh until it finally made its way beneath the hem of her cute little flag-themed denim skirt, where I paused momentarily to one again gage her reaction.
There was dead silence on the green as Raef and Sanja looked on, until, somehow becoming emboldened by the sheer audacity of the moment, Jessica firmly told me to just do it.
I vividly remember Sanja’s high pitched squeal of surprised delight, as my hand continued its journey of about four or five more inches until finally landing on its mark.
The fabric of her little thong panties on my fingertips seemed so unbelievably delicate to me as to barely even be real, like an ethereal whisper of satin guarding her warm little opening.
But the material was more than sufficiently grounded in this plane of existence to absorb the little slut’s arousal. Her panties were wet. The little bitch in heat had definitely been enjoying my story.
I turned my gaze toward Raef to give my report, not removing my fingertips from my doctor’s soaked and barely concealed little cunt. His face was locked in a mixed-state of amusement and anticipation.
“This cute little doctor currently has herself one very wet pussy,” I proudly cooed. “And with her husband off who knows where, I’d say that it’s highly likely that it’s wet for you.” And with that, I pressed the tip of my middle finger gently into her noticeably engorged clit, eliciting an immediate gasp from her lips and the slightest involuntary parting of her married thighs. Her sudden movement caused her skirt to ride up just far enough for us all of us to see the thick, black shock of pubic hair matted beneath the sexiest little sheer panties imaginable.
Completely transfixed on her gorgeous bush, I couldn’t help but think that her tight little hole was guarded by a third cut easily more formidable than any lining the fairways of Bushwood.
“Sanja,” I heard Raef say as I continued to gently massage my doctor’s swollen cunt, “would you please hold Jessica’s legs back for me. There’s something else that I need Katerina to do.”
2021-07-16 00:56:17 +0000 UTC
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Jessica has been a fun little project of mine. I genuinely like her. A lot. But there’s something about her self-righteous, innocent act that’s always gotten under my skin. Which is a big part of the reason that I set off on my mission to manipulate her into betraying her husband.
But that’s not the only reason. The biggest reason is that I desperately want a like-minded cohort at the club to scheme with. A protege, really. I’d originally thought that Sanja would be that person. The two of us share so much and are so similarly situated that it just seemed like her becoming my best friend was the completely natural progression. But that all changed when she reconciled with her somewhat controlling husband.
In any event, my intermittent discussions with Jessica over the last 18 months have led me to believe that there’s a powerful sexuality percolating under her finely appointed, alabaster exterior. So I set off to tap it. And so far, it’s been a pretty enjoyable experience, for both myself and my ally-in-arms, Raef. Actually, truth be told, it’s probably been way more enjoyable for him.
Which brings me to the night of July 3rd on the green of the par 3 7th hole at my beloved Bushwood country club. Anyone who’s ever played Bushwood knows that the 7th runs along the southern perimeter of the club, with the 8th hole (a very long par 5) running along the eastern perimeter and taking you to the tee box for the 9th, which is another shorter par 5 that takes you back to the clubhouse for the turn onto the back 9. Simply put, the green of the 7th is the most remote place that one can possibly get from the clubhouse, and anyone who might’ve stumbled upon us that night would’ve had no plausible excuse for it other than that they too were looking for mischief. But in all honesty, there was so much liquor running through our veins at that point in the evening that none of us would’ve even remotely cared if we’d suddenly found ourselves bathed in spotlights and completely surrounded by the entire DuPage County SWAT team.
But even so, there’s simply no discounting the risk that being taken on the green that night. The scandal that would have ensued from photos taken of the CFO of a highly respected evangelical nonprofit with the wives of a prominent Chicago surgeon and one of his underlings would have rocked our entire community.
And while I’m not certain what it says about the four of us, we didn’t seem to give a single fuck.
At the point in the evening where I’d just finished recounting the story of how Jessica naughtily gave me her panties on the night of the summer solstice party, Sanja was hanging on my every word and Jessica was beside herself with what I’d thought at the time was embarrassment.
“Tell them what I made you do next,” Raef said with a grin as wide as any of the imposing bunkers surrounding our green.
“You made me lick them completely clean, you fucking asshole,” I yelled back at him.
“And?” he responded immediately. “How did that wet little patch in the crotch of your doctor’s panties taste?”
“Amazing,” I replied somewhat sheepishly. It was all true. I had in fact, albeit indirectly from the crotch of her panties, tasted my doctor’s sweet pussy the night of the party. I licked it all up on command like a whore, leaving only my saliva as the remaining wetness. And while it’s not something that I ever would have pursued on my own initiative, I loved doing it for Raef. Principally because my submission to his will was so clearly turning him on. If I had to humiliate myself by licking the filthy crotch of another woman’s panties to get his perfect cock hard for me, then so be it.
“You like doing what you’re told, don’t you?” he asked me point blank.
“I definitely like doing what you tell me to do,” I answered honestly.
“That’s very good to hear, because I happen to have another little project for you,” Raef replied. “I want you to reach up under Jessica’s skirt and see if your little story’s had any effect on the panties she’s wearing tonight.”
“What!!!,” Jessica shrieked laughingly. “No fucking way!”
But the second I locked my eyes onto hers we both knew that the two of us were going to succumb to whatever Raef asked of us. And that what I was about to do next was only the beginning.
2021-07-14 10:13:10 +0000 UTC
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The trails that our mothers and grandmothers blazed for us in the 60s and 70s cannot be overemphasized. Their work in establishing women’s equality gave us the ability to seek out our own fulfillment beyond the confines of the home and gifted us huge control over our own bodies, especially with respect to reproductive rights. It’s no understatement to say that, without their Herculean efforts, a woman’s right to reap the benefits of a hotwife marriage never would have been realized.
But the unvarnished truth is this. Even before the advent of freely available birth control, married women were still secretly getting big dick on the side. Even without the freedom of mobility that comes from having careers outside of the marital home, it was obviously still possible for an enterprising housewife to arrange naughty couplings with hung and eager lovers. And without the responsibility that comes from a 9 to 5 work schedule, women had significantly more spare time for finding trouble to get into (or to get into them might be the better way to put it). Fortunately, women my age and y0unger have never had to be so creative and conniving with respect to our extramarital activities.
Going back, I’m pretty certain that I knew on my wedding night that the prospect of being satisfied over a lifetime with spreading my legs only for my husband was going to be difficult, but I vowed to myself to do my very best. I vividly remember flirting with a coworker the day I got back after my honeymoon. He was an ex-college football player with a classic v-shaped body and the kind of bravado that screamed “hung.” To no one’s surprise, he came onto me at an impromptu happy hour outing, and I ended up giving him a hand job in the front seat of his car. He was so worried about getting cum all over his suit that I wrapped my lips tight around the head of his fat cock right as he started to orgasm and swallowed every drop of it for him. I started cheating routinely to get my “big dick” needs satisfied about a year and a year and a half later; well before my husband and I made the decision to try and start our own family. But as difficult as it might be to believe, it wasn’t without a significant amount of guilt. I remember driving home to my beautiful house and my wonderful husband on countless occasions with the physical evidence of what I’d just done leaking into the fabric of the delicate panties I’d picked out to achieve just such a result. In the guilt ridden aftermath of each and every such occasion, I would swear to myself that it would be the last time. “No more,” I would tell myself. Yeah, right.
Being on birth control at that point in my life was a powerful enabler for me. It gave me the confidence to engage in the riskiest of behaviors without having to be concerned about the most significant of the potential consequences that could come from my secret liaisons. An unwanted pregnancy.
Obviously, even on birth control, unprotected sex with the kind of men I’ve always been attracted to comes with an additional set of risks. But, as ashamed as I am now to admit it, those risks were acceptable ones for me to take at that point in my life. But again, the guilt of potentially exposing my poor, sweet, unsuspecting husband to any number of ‘difficult to explain’ viral and bacterial infections would often lead to anxiety-ridden bathroom moments where I’d scrutinize the discharge in my panties like some oracle trying to read tea leaves.
But in spite of all the guilt and anxiety, my colossal weakness for y0ung alpha studs - my own personal Achilles heal wrapped in an ankle brace of kryponite - would get the best of me every time. And it wasn’t that I just needed a cock larger than my husband’s inside of me. That was certainly a huge part of it, but I already owned an impressive collection of dildos at that point in my life that could have easily satisfied that particular void. What I needed every bit as much as size was risk. It’s always been my biggest aphrodisiac. The risk of getting caught, the risk of getting emotionally involved, and yes, the risk of possibly either getting pregnant or infecting my husband with an STD. It was all like some extremely powerful drug to me. Especially the risk, albeit an unlikely one on with being on the pill, of becoming pregnant with another man’s baby.
It wasn’t until my husband and I decided to actually get pregnant and start a family that I faced the cold, hard reality of what that meant with respect to my extracurricular activities. Going off the pill meant that my lovers and I now bore a very real and significant risk of creating our own chiId unless I took it upon myself to enforce certain measures to prevent it. The easiest and most reliable of those measures obviously included requiring my lovers to wrap their erections in latex. But here’s the thing. I absolutely despise barrier methods of birth control. Especially condoms.
Humans, while highly evolved, are nonetheless still animals. And there are parts of our brains that are still every bit as primitive as they were when we first dragged our asses from the oceans. The hallmark characteristic shared by every specie of animal that’s existed ever since is the primal urge to mate. Condoms, by their very design, preempt that urge, providing the wearer with the ability to experience the pleasure of mating with virtually none of the risk that comes from allowing nature to take its course in a less protected setting.
And it’s an undeniable fact that when that barrier is in place between myself and a sexy lover, the heat for me has always been significantly diminished. And for some bizarre reason, that’s especially been the case since the day I spoke my wedding vows. Sine then, nothing, and I mean nothing, gets my heart pounding quite as much as a fully erect and completely bare alpha cock en route to my wet, eager cunt. And when a bull who’s blessed with such a magnificent specimen lines up over top of me to claim his prize, time somehow seems to slow itself as I wait for his manhood to make contact with my swollen entrance. The level of intimacy I feel in the moment that the precum at the tip of his penis co-mingles with my own feminine lubricant is off the charts. Followed with the sensation of being slowly stretched and filled inch by delicious inch, it ignites an eye rolling level of intensity that only an aroused and unprotected female can truly appreciate. When coupled with the low, masculine moans that clearly signal his appreciation of my tightness, it all set me on course for orgasm. But it’s not until that point in time that the tip of my lover’s manhood has finally journeyed all the way to the door of my womb that I can’t help but be reminded of the underlying purpose of sensations were each experiencing. And the realization that no action is being taken by either of us to prevent it- that we’re literally in the process of letting nature take its course - is what cranks my personal heat levels to scorching. Knowing how the sensations my body’s designed to provide a man are ultimately leading my illicit bed mate toward orgasm is exactly what catapults me toward my own. And the moment my feminine body finally coaxes a lover to flood my cheating cunt with his seed is pure primal validation.
So back in those early days, with the use of condoms clearly off the table, the only other viable options meant either taking a hiatus from my infidelity or trying to schedule my get togethers during my non-fertiIe times of the month. The former turned out to be entirely unachievable, and the latter, while looking very good on paper, turned out to be precisely opposite to the times I craved my indiscretions the most. When it all came down to it, I simply could never muster the self control to implement the measures necessary to absolutely ensure that any chiId conceived would belong to my husband.
Fortunately, everything appears to have worked out in hubby’s favor. Every one of our beautiful offspring are entirely his. But, as much as he hates to acknowledge it, it certainly wasn’t because of any special consideration on my part.
Going forward is an entirely different story, however.
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2021-07-11 15:14:22 +0000 UTC
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Just a little Friday tease. Even it’s it’s only a 4 day week, it’s been looong!! Check your messages if you want a little more T & A in your Friday.
Please like and comment if you love this post! The more you like my posts, the more sexy vids I’ll post for you. 🥵😘
2021-07-09 20:50:28 +0000 UTC
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The most successful hotwives are the ones that can somehow fill their husbands with a potent combination of love, anguish, devotion and just the right mix of security and insecurity. Such a result is by no means an easy feat to accomplish. It’s an absolutely daunting task that requires the deftest of touches. But for the few that actually achieve it, they are rewarded with the types of marriages that legends are made of.
First off - Love. This is the easy one. Simply put, there is no scenario where the hotwife marriage truly functions when the husband in any way doubts his wife’s love for him. That requires showing him. Not just telling him. He needs to see with his very own eyes that everything you do, even with other men, comes from a place of absolute love for him.
Anguish - One of the most primal and powerful of urges that men experience is the one to compete with other men. Be it over money and status, athletics, or women, men are wired for competition with one another. And no loss carries quite the sting as the one a man feels when another man steps forward and claims his most prized possession - his woman. Such an abject challenge to his masculinity will fuel a heady mix of hormones in any male. But when a man sees another man, who’s bigger, and both more aggressive and hung than him, taking his pleasure in his wife’s most sacred of places, while also eliciting responses from her that are wholly unfamiliar, the prospect of loss can take on a cold, hard reality. That prospect can become all consuming for any husband, but when it’s managed properly by the wife, it can leave her husband a beautiful wreck of malleable putty. Putty that the right wife can mold to her exact specifications.
Devotion- From the pit of anguish can spring a tsunami of devotion if handled correctly by the hotwife. As ironic as it may seem, few things have the power to strengthen the marital bond as much as sexual infidelity. But it takes a surgeon’s touch. As it just so happens, the power to both liquefy a man’s insides and then almost instantly sooth them to full recovery is highly connective. Emotions this complex and intense are rarely, if ever, achieved in a marriage, and when they are, they can operate to imprint an almost unbreakable co-dependency between a husband and wife. The happily ever after bonds that are thought to exist only in fairy tales.
Security- Igniting the combustible mix of chemicals inside her husband’s brain to a white hot level that comes just shy of taking it supernova requires the precision of a chemist. The igniting ingredient is always the minutest of dashes of insecurity. Because the ego of the male sometimes needs an ice cold chill to spark the flames that will burn long after the bull has left the marital bed. But when playtime with her bull is over, the husband must always be retuned to a place of safety. Creating such a bubble for a husband and wife to take refuge in within the greater confines of such a volatile lifestyle is akin to walking a high wire. Finding the right chemistry requires the wife to maintain an absolutely perfect level of balance. But it is absolutely imperative that the hotwife be able to instill within her husband the sense of security in their relationship that makes it possible for her to realize her sexual epitome.
The sex that’s generally required for that comes from the men most ill equipped for marriage. And no good marriage is ever worth sacrificing for them. But having it all is possible for the hotwife who can effectively manage the four pillars.
NOTE: 1 more day to like and comment on my last post. Winner will be chosen at RANDOM to receive a special vid from me. 😘
2021-07-08 03:12:52 +0000 UTC
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What word comes to mind looking at these beauties? I sent this to your DM’s too. Don’t be shy. Anyone who answers and likes is entered to win a free vid just for you. Answer must be dropped below to be qualify.
2021-07-06 21:59:04 +0000 UTC
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Saturday started off with a fantastic pool party at the neighbors’ house. I have to admit, watching the recent graduate frolic in the pool with his 5% body fat lacrosse buddies was a guilty pleasure that I indulged in way too freely. I used to have a hard cut line of 24 years old, but after yesterday, I’m starting to think that’s more of a policy than a rule.
But the real fun was last night at the fireworks party. Already fueled by copious Jell-O shots from the graduation party, I was primed for something scandalous to happen the second my cowboy boots hit the ground at Bushwood.
It didn’t take long for me to break away from the family and find Jessica waiting in line at one of the makeshift outdoor bars by the pool. From her reaction, I could tell she was one part excited and two parts embarrassed to see me. But I gave her a huge smile and a hug and waited in line with her for a jack and coke (my traditional 4th of July drink of choice). We also made the dubious decision to each do a shot (bartender’s choice) before heading off to mingle. Within 5 minutes, I was flying high as a kite and ready to party.
Raef had told me on Wednesday that he wouldn’t be coming to the fireworks, so I was surprised as fuck when we ran into him and Sanja on the patio deck. It’s difficult to even describe how elated I was to see Sanja. Since she’s reconciled with her husband, it’s not often that I get the opportunity to spend time with her. Between the internal warmth provided by the top shelf alcohoI and the presence of my two best girlfriends, the whole night had the most magically cozy feel. One that I wish I could bottle.
Then things took an even bigger turn when Raef snuck away from our group for five minutes and returned with an unopened bottle of Gentleman Jack. “Come on,” he said. “Follow me.” Without even thinking, the three of us were following Raef like he was the y0ung Brad Pitt version of the Pied Piper. And we followed our stud all the way across the golf course to its farthest outpost, the green of the 7th hole.
Before I even realized it, the three of us were laying on the soft, warm Bermudagrass without a care in the world, passing around the bottle, giggling and waiting for the fireworks. In retrospect, perhaps Jessica should have been a bit more concerned about her husband, but like me, she was lost the moment.
Then Raef, possibly sensing an opportunity to escalate the sexual tension of the moment, took things into his own hands when he cordially invited me tell Sanja how I’d come to sniff the scent of Jessica’s pussy from the crotch of her dirty thong panties at the summer solstice party the weekend before. Almost instantly, Jessica was beside herself with laughter, telling Raef to shut his fucking mouth. But the cat, so to speak, was already out of the bag. Sanja wanted to hear the story.
So I told it, in detail. How a secluded game of aIcohoI fueled truth or dare led to a three way kissing session between Raef, Jessica and myself. And how on Raef’s very next turn, he dared one cute little gynecologist to take off her panties and give them to me. Then how Jessica, her cheeks flushed red with a combination of shame and arousal, slowly lifted the hem of her cute little Grecian tunic until her delicate lace panties were on full display to the both us. How she then hooked her well manicured thumbs into the waistband and slowly eased them over her hips and down her smooth tanned thighs, releasing them at around knee level and letting them carelessly drop to the floor around her ankles. And how, while giggling, she flicked her foot in my direction, sending her panties hurtling toward my face. And most importantly, how my ridiculously slow reaction time left me completely defenseless against the assault, allowing the sexy little used underpants to land square across my brow line and slide past the bridge of my nose and over my lips before catching them between my breasts.
Sanja was dying with laughter.
And then I noted how Raef completely breached universally accepted truth or dare protocol by taking a second turn, daring me to sniff the scent of Jessica’s cunt from the interior cotton panel in the gusset of the tiny thong.
I also confided how I’d been so turned on in the moment that I made no effort whatsoever to call Raef on his blatant infraction. That I was intrigued beyond my wildest imagination to know Jessica’s scent, eagerly bringing the crotch of my doctor’s panties to the tip of my nose. And how shocked I was to feel their wetness against my skin. Jessica, I noted out loud to my audience, was clearly aching to be fucked by Raef’s big cock.
It was at that particular point, just as the club’s fireworks display began, that the temperature on the grass of the putting green skyrocketed…
2021-07-05 11:39:53 +0000 UTC
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Sometimes it’s those tender moments after sex with a bull that can be the most awkward for me with my husband in the same room. When the wild heat of the moment has passed, but my adoration for the masculine power of my alpha bull has yet to fully wane.
Maybe my husband had only moments before watched me riding my y0ung lover, feverishly bouncing my wet, unprotected cunt up and down his rigid sex organ, desperately coaxing my bull to relent and breed my married pussy. Now, curled next to him in a state of post coital bliss, my face cuddled into the crook of his neck, I’m unwilIing to part from him just yet. As I gently caress his gorgeous broad chest, I might drape my leg innocently over his muscular thighs, unintentionally giving my husband an unobstructed view of my noticeably unfaithful pussy. As I coo in my bull’s ear how no man as ever owned me so thoroughly, a pearly bead of his potent semen might form on the edge of my still swollen labia, providing my husband with undeniable evidence of my lover’s complete satisfaction with my efforts. Perhaps seconds later, gravity will overwhelm it, sending it on its slow journey down my upper thigh, en route to the already filth-laden sheets of our marital bed.
Or maybe hubby’s watching as I gently cradle my stud’s heavy scrotum in my soft little palm, my pretty lips sealed tight around his shaft as he enjoys his cataclysmic orgasm inside my married mouth, pumping rope after rope of his virile y0ung seed into the back of my throat as our eyes remain unblinkingly locked on one another. Now, nearly a full ten minutes later, he’s still watching as I lay naked with my spent bull, continuing to lavish his magnificent penis with tender kisses while ever so gently trying to milk yet one last precious drop from the tip. And maybe I’m still so enamored with my lover’s manhood that I can’t stop myself from telling him over an over how beautiful and amazing that I find it. How much I love it. How I’m enslaved to it. Maybe I’m even thanking him for letting me service it with my mouth all the way to climax, and how I love how I can still taste the fruits of my effort. And how must it feel to my husband when I shamelessly pledge to always be his swallowing little cum dumpster, reminding him over and over how my talented lips and tongue are but one phone call away.
Yes, those are the awkward moments, when the passion of the sexual act itself has subsided, but my devotion to my bull’s sexual needs is still cascading from my every pour. I always fear that, in those quiet and tender times with a bull, my husband might begin to fear that the lines might be blurring. This is, without one single solitary doubt, never the case. But just as a female’s chemistry can be slow to heat, it can also be equally slow to cool. And that, as they say, is just the cost of doing business. At least for my sweet husband, anyway.
2021-07-04 17:25:27 +0000 UTC
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I lost my virginity at 15. To a college kid working a summer job at a Walden Books in the local mall. I was a complete bookworm dork in love with reading, and while I rarely had any money to spend on them, I spent virtually every day of my summer break between my 8th grade and freshman year at Walden Books browsing the shelves for interesting things that I might also be able to borrow from the local library. I loved everything there was about the store, but nothing more than the way that it smelled.
Todd had caught me in a remote corner of the store reading a ‘coming of age’ book by Judy Blume a few weeks beforehand, and I remember being absolutely mortified. It was only the second week of summer break, and I irrationally thought that he was either going to kick me out or call my parents. Fortunately, he did neither. To the contrary, he told me to stop by on Wednesday morning (the slowest time of the week) and he could should show me some other stuff that I might be interested in. I was dumbfounded. I’d obviously noticed him working the register. He was gorgeous, with a tall lean muscular frame. For some reason I remember assuming he was a swimmer. He seemed soooo much older that I couldn’t even conceive of the fact that he might be interested in me sexually. I just assumed that he shared my intellectual curiosity and had decided to help mentor me.
I stopped by the store around 10am the following Wednesday. He was the only employee in the store that day, and he invited me behind the counter. I couldn’t believe that I’d been allowed into such a privileged and restricted space, and I felt so special just standing next to him behind the counter. For the next 20 minutes we flipped through a paperback copy of the Joy of Sex. I’d seen the spine of this book a thousand times during the countless hours I’d spent in the store but, despite my aching curiosity, had never once remotely came close to having the nerve to pull it from the shelf. I’ll never forget feeling the wetness in my panties as I rode my bike back to my trailer park that afternoon. I ran to my bedroom and immediately touched myself to orgasm. I would stop at the store to hang out and chat with Todd virtually every day afterward, sometimes closer to closing.
It wasn’t until about the fourth day into our blossoming friendship that he asked me how old I was. I’d lied and told him I’d just turned 17 the month before, when in fact I was a little over two weeks away from my 15th birthday. In retrospect, there’s no possible way that he could’ve believed that I’d be going into my junior year of high school in the fall, but he never once called me out on my blatant lie.
Then came the Fourth of July weekend.
Todd was scheduled to close the store on Friday, July 3rd, (again, all by himself) and I’d stopped in around 8pm to hang out with him. By the time closing rolled around at 10, there hadn’t been an actual customer in the store for over an hour. He said he needed to fill out some closing papers back in the office and asked if I wanted to come back with him while he took care of it. He laughingly said he’d also give me a quick tour of the stock room to make it worth my while. I readily agreed to go back with him, and then watched on as he pulled some display tables back into the store and lowered the security gate to lock it.
His invitation had all seemed so innocent to me at the time. Never in a million years would I have believed that I’d be losing the petals of my most precious flower to this sexy college guy in a matter of about 10 minutes.
By the time I was 15, I knew that guys my age found me cute. At least cute enough to stop by my trailer for the periodic hand job or two. But a sexy college guy!? Never in my wildest dreams. So when Todd invited me back to the office, I naively assumed that the invitation had been extended because he thought I was a big enough dork to actually be interested in seeing it. Which, in fact, was absolutely true. Little did I know he had designs on the virgin territory located within the borders of my little cotton panties.
The split second that the door to the office closed behind us, Todd pulled me into his tall, lean body and began to kiss me. I was simultaneously filled with equal parts shock and elation, and I offered up not one ounce of resistance. In my head, I quickly began to suspect that Todd might not be content with just a little kissing. The lingering thought left me feeling at unease, but I quickly resigned that I would eagerly give this sexy boy the greatest hand job of his life and that would be that. I was confident that I was in complete control, and once I was finished pleasuring him, I would rush home on my bike to feverishly masturbate myself under my blanket with my still hopefully cum-covered fingers. So with all of that decided inside of my head, I simply melted into Todd’s arms and allowed him to set the course for the timing of his hand job.
But within a mere matter of seconds, Todd audiblized his own course by slipping his experienced hand up under my dress and into my panties. Before I could pull my mouth from his to protest this unconsented invasion, the tip of his middle finger pressed itself between my folds in search of my natural lubricant before ever so gently gliding itself across the surface of my y0ung and highly aroused clitoris. The sensation was unlike anything I’d heretofore been able to achieve with my own slender fingers, and I was immediately left adrift on a tiny dingy in a raging hormonal sea of desire.
Instantly bereft of all reason, and my plan to end the evening with a virtuoso hand job in shambles, Todd quickly seized on his opportunity. His expert fingers continued their dance, taking me ever so closer to a cataclysmic orgasm of my own. And then, just as I sat perched on its precipice, Todd abruptly stopped and removed his hand from the intimate confines of my soaked underpants. I psychically screamed out in agony. “Noooooooo!!!!!” How could he stop and leave me hanging in such an aching grip of desire?!?!
Desperately hoping for some sort of release, I submitted to Todd’s will completely, allowing him to reposition me so that I was now facing his desk, at which point he gently bent me forward. I felt the cool air-conditioned air of the office on my bottom as he swiftly raised my dress above my hips and lowered my panties to about mid-thigh.
I remember feeling so completely and embarrassingly exposed. I knew that Todd could see both my vagina and my little pink asshole from the angle he had, and I felt completely ashamed for allowing him such an unabashed view of my privates. But I also knew that what this experienced college stud had in store for me was exactly what I needed to restore myself to equilibrium. So, still in denial of his ultimate intentions, I awaited for what would certainly be nothing more than the continued probing of his expert fingertips. And I remember thinking how much I couldn’t wait to return the favor.
Such was my abject dellerium that I have absolutely no recollection of hearing the fly of his khakis. All I recall at that point is experiencing an odd sense of curiosity as he guided the tip of his erection up and down my slit to gather sufficient lubricant to drive it into me.
At which point he did, sending my y0ung body immediately into the throes of perhaps the single greatest orgasm of my life.
When I returned to my senses, I knew that my virginity was gone, and I felt absolutely no regret. Todd had taken it, and little did he know that he he would always hold a special place in my heart as a result.
Fortunately, he also had the common sense to pull out of my fertiIe, yet legally underaged pussy. He shot what I suspected was an extremely huge load, coating my bottom and lower back in the process. Both of us spent, there was no awkwardness at all that I can recall in the aftermath. Not even attempting to clean myself, I kissed him goodbye, told him I’d be back tomorrow, and hurried to my bike.
I didn’t even have my driver’s license yet, but feeling Todd’s semen dripping into the crack of my bottom on the ride home made me feel like a woman for the very first time in my life.
Once I’d returned to the safe confines of my bedroom, I quickly scurried from my dress and used the wettest areas to touch myself to another mind blowing orgasm before drifting off to sleep naked.
The fireworks that my parents would be taking me to the very next night wouldn’t hold a candle to the ones that Todd had given me.
2021-06-30 14:58:39 +0000 UTC
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A little Tuesday teaser to start your day off right. 👿
2021-06-29 08:47:43 +0000 UTC
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The summer solstice party at the club last night couldn’t have been scripted better if it was a Hollywood movie. It was every bit as erotically charged and scandalous as I could’ve possibly hoped, and I cannot wait to fill you in on every little juicy detail. But first, I just need to vent a little. So please, bear with me.
Being an executive hotwife with an active country club and church lifestyle probably seems all exciting and glamorous to many of you. But the truth is, I probably way over-idealize it. There are so many land mines for me to navigate on a daily basis that it can sometimes be extremely deflating.
Take for instance the trip to Las Vegas with my husband that I’ve booked for later this summer. We’ll be there for a full five days (Wednesday through Sunday) with bookending travel days. What’s most exciting is that hubby’s also made travel arrangements for one of our bulls to m33t us there. My absolute favorite bull, in fact. He’ll be joining us Thursday through Saturday. Sounds totally perfect, right?
The problem is my husband’s somewhat growing sensitivities to being a man who it’s being kind to describe as middle aged libido. To the point, my sweet hubby is currently in the process of coming to grips with the fact that his libido simply can’t match that of any one of the number of y0unger bulls who frequent our marital bed. And with this particular bull, it’s not just that their desire levels aren’t in the same neighborhood, they’re not even on the same fucking planet. Add to that the fact that I’ve booked the dates for this trip to coincide with right around when I’ll be ovuIating (so that my own desire levels will be shooting through the roof), and you can see why the prospect of being with this bull for such an extended period of time has my husband in full-on stress mode.
And let’s face it, what he’s likely to be witnessing (should he choose to stay and do so) is his wife in absolute heat for an alpha bull who’s in his absolute reproductive prime. So it’s no exaggeration to say that my pussy’s going to be a gay-ping wreck for three straight days, and very little of it will likely have to do with the contributions of my husband.
To counter this sobering and looming reality, I’ve decided that open communication is the key. So I’ve been very open and upfront with him about my expectations and have already set some key ground rules that will be in effect for the entire time.
First and foremost, I’ve made it absolutely clear that we’re going on this trip for two primary purposes. The first and foremost of which is to get me what I truly need right now, which is multiple days of thick, y0ung alpha bull cock. And second of which is to also get me some hot visual content for my OnlyFans in the process. Everything else, including his feelings, is secondary. All of this means that hubby’s going to need to buckle up the belt on his big boy pants and completely check his ego.
Secondly, I’ve booked us two queens beds for our stay l, which naturally means I’ll be sleeping with our alpha bull while he’s with us. I’ve also reminded him that It’s not uncommon for this bull’s prodigious need to rear its head in the middle of the night, and that, while I’ll certainly attempt not to disturb my husband’s sleep while I’m dutifully servicing that need, I cannot guarantee that result whatsoever. This bull is particularly thick, and I do tend to scream his name on occasion; especially so when he’s having his way with me from behind. So if sleep is something he’ll be prioritizing while we’re in Vegas, I’ve made it clear that he may want to consider booking his own room on a different floor.
Third, there may be occasions that my bull and I will prefer some intimate times to ourselves, regardless of hubby’s preferences at the moment. There are just certain things, such as enjoying my exquisitely tight bottom, that this bull prefers to do without hubby’s presence. So my husband needs to be respectful of these times and take his leave to pool bar like a good boy when requested to do so. He also needs to trust that I’ll most certainly alert him when he’s welcome to return. To that end, I’ve reminded him that anal’s something that I rarely if ever orgasm from, so getting his talented lips and tongue back to the room ASAP will certainly be one of my higher priorities in the moment.
And finally, I’ve warned him that he may be required to wear his cage when directed. That decision will be entirely up to our bull, so he just needs to be ready to suit up on the off chance that that rule goes into effect
The bottom line is that I want my husband to enjoy this trip as much humanly possible, and I truly believe that giving him some ground rules to think about ahead of time will get his head in the best “cuck space” possible, which will most definitely be for everybody’s benefit. Especially his.
Thanks for letting me vent. More on the solstice party tomorrow!!
2021-06-27 18:58:50 +0000 UTC
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The incident with Raef this past Friday still has me annoyed. It’s not that I mind my sex a little rough. Especially with a y0unger bull. By nature, they’re testosterone levels drive them a little more to the aggressive side. It’s entirely to be expected.
But on Friday Raef was just a complete fucking asshole. For his part, he did text me about a half hour after I left and apologized. And then a couple more times on Saturday and once again yesterday. I still haven’t responded.
Here’s what happened after I left his office on Friday.
It being the day before my vacation, I’d already planned on not returning to work that afternoon and heading straight home. Not having my panties to collect the semen leaking from my vagina, Raef had soaked my inner thighs and skirt by the time I was pulling into my driveway. There seemed to be so much of it that I couldn’t help but wonder how amazing that orgasm must have felt to the bastard.
One of my kids was sitting at the kitchen table when I walked into the house. Wanting to avoid any lengthy discourse at that particular moment, I told him I was tired and running upstairs to take a little nap, and that we’d probably be ordering pizza later since I still had packing I needed to get done.
The reality was that I wasn’t tired in the least, I just needed some alone time to process what had happened in Raef’s office. Once in my room, I stripped off my clothes and tossed them in the hamper. Then I crawled into bed nude and buried myself in the comforter. My mind immediately turned to what had happened in Raef’s office.
How he’d so aggressively bent me over and ripped my panties, and the things he said to me while he used my pussy. Like how he loved that it gets so wet for him (that much was absolutely true. Being on my knees and pleasing an alpha male with my mouth makes my pussy wet beyond belief). But then, right before my vagina brought him over the edge, he said something else. He told me that he was going to send me off on vacation with my chiIdren carrying one of his own. Oh my…
Raef had literally mounted me from behind and taken my receptive cunt like a garden variety mongrel might mount a bitch, and in the process had gloated about the possibility of breeding his subordinate’s wife.
Without even realizing it, I found myself feverishly dipping my fingers into the still sloppy mess between my thighs, for some weird reason wanting to taste the seed of my conqueror.
The next thing I knew, I was fishing into my nightstand for my BBC dildo. I’d driven to Raef’s office horny as fuck and still hadn’t had an orgasm of my own. I had unfinished business. I didn’t even attempt to find the lube. I could tell that the remnants of my bull would be more than sufficient for that purpose.
I was cumming within a matter of minutes, remembering of all things, how I’d had to retrieve the ripped panties my sweet husband had bought for me from his boss’s floor. The last thought in my head as reached my crescendo was of Raef’s thick cock swelling even thicker inside of me just prior to his release. I imagined the powerful spasms ripping through his muscular frame as he pumped himself into me.
As soon as my orgasm subsided, I was immediately pissed at myself for having let such thoughts bring me off. But I was too emotionally spent at that point to dwell on much of anything, so I decided that a little nap would probably do me some good. I certainly wasn’t going to let one asshole ruin my much-needed vacation with my kids.
2021-06-22 15:34:00 +0000 UTC
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Please check your DM’s for this vid. It’s FREE.
Ironically, one of the hottest things about most alpha bulls is that they’re actually pretty selfish lovers. They take what they want to satisfy their own primal needs, without generally giving the slightest of fucks about the satisfaction of yours. The most alpha of them have zero regard for whether you’re enjoying being bent over and penetrated at the particular moment. All they know when they’re caught in the throes of testosterone induced arousal is that the tight little pussy tucked up in between your soft married thighs is exactly what they need. And they’re going to continue to use it until the sensations that nature’s designed it to provide a male trigger the the lightning storm in their brains that ultimately sets off a domino-like effect, without which there would be no holiday called Father’s Day.
As the loving grip of the female vagina glides to and and fro across the patch of highly aroused nerve endings clustered on the underside of his erection just beneath the head, a tsunami of data is being transmitted to the brain, flooding sections of it with serotonin and dopamine. This intoxicating cocktail of neurotransmitters builds to a crescendo that sends a bolt of electricity shooting down the spine, triggering a series of involuntary muscle contractions venting the dam to release a torrent of reproductive fluid that will soon be cascading through his engorged shaft to be pumped into the welcoming embrace of the female’s womb.
With insemination achieved and his wits returning, the now satisfied alpha bull can safely retreat back to his X-box. The female, now free from the mount of her bull and already late for a dinner date with her husband, can retrieve her wet little panties from his bedroom floor, slide them back over her smooth tanned thighs, readjust her skirt while simultaneously kissing her sexy friend goodbye, and make her way to her Lexus SUV. Nature at its best.
Fortunately for me, I adore being the beauty who can soothe these kinds of beasts. And feeling their relief pumping into me is the most femininely satisfying experience there is. Oftentimes, all it takes to trigger my own orgasm is knowing that my tight little cunt just triggered his.
And even if for some reason I don’t happen to cum at the time, it’s all good. Because I have a husband in chastity. Which means that I have a guaranteed orgasm waiting for me at home. All I’ll have to do when I get there is lie back in bed, let him take off my absolutely filthy panties and think back to being bent over like a slut for another man while his sweet loving mouth brings me my own release.
It’s sooooooo good being a hotwife.
Happy Father’s Day!
2021-06-21 01:27:34 +0000 UTC
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Happy Fathers Day!! Here’s a throw back vid from last year. I hope you enjoy. I’ll make you a special vid when I have alone time!! I hope you have an amazing day!! 😘
2021-06-20 11:34:08 +0000 UTC
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Marriage hasn’t always existed in human societies. In fact, the institution came to be in the very cradle of civilization itself, Mesopotamia, around 2000 BC. Which makes it, by definition, a very civilized concept. So naturally, the relationship between a husband and wife can’t help but to become progressively more and more civilized as each year passes. And never does it become more so than after the loving couple have started their own family. Sadly, there’s just something about being the mother of his children that makes a husband want to pull your hair and fuck your ass less and less. But ironically, the act of procreation itself predates the institution of marriage, and when it’s done properly, it’s the absolute epitome of uncivilized. I’m convinced that the more primal the act between a man and a woman, the more likely it is to lead to success.
For instance, I stopped at my husband’s office today over lunch to m33t with Raef. Hubby’s obviously out of town with Chrissy, but I don’t think anyone was terribly surprised to see me walk into Raef’s office and close the door behind me this afternoon. Because it’s pretty much common knowledge at this point that I occasionally drop by to give the sexy asshole an amazing blowjob every now then. And quite frankly that’s all I anticipated happening today. Me dropping to my knees, maybe getting my tits bare, and then walking back out to the lobby with a belly full stud sperm. The perfect way to start a vacation.
But that is most definitely not how my little afternoon rendezvous with Raef transpired. Of course that’s how it began, but at some point it took a turn and became an almost surreal out of body-type experience.
Raef was way more aggressive than normal. I’m honestly not sure what had gotten into him, but I could sense almost immediately that something was different. He just seemed a little off, and at about 5 minutes into things, I was abruptly pulled from my knees and f0rcefully bent over his desk. My favorite little white thong panties were viciously ripped from my bottom, and with my head held to his desk, Raef penetrated me fully in one v!olent thrust. I actually had to muffle a scream.
The bastard had his way with my married pussy for about another 5 minutes before he finally dug his nails into my ass and unloaded a torrent of his thick semen into me. When he was content that he’d finally emptied himself of every last drop, he withdrew his softening cock, zipped himself back up and then sat down in his chair. As I slowly began to pull myself together to get the fuck out of his office, he looked at me somewhat sheepishly, seemingly waiting for me to say something.
But I said nothing. I retrieved my ripped panties from his office floor, threw them into my purse and then stormed out the door.
Primal is one thing, but what happened today was totally unacceptable. I’m honestly done with that mother fucker. This time for real.
This video was taken tonight. Sometimes a girl just needs to wind down. 😈.
2021-06-19 04:28:40 +0000 UTC
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Some odds and ends.
Hubby and Chrissy left yesterday for software training. It turns my stomach sending him off with the fat little cuck poacher, but it’s not like there’s much of an option. Unbeknownst to hubby, though, I did download some software on his phone to help me keep tabs on his texting with her. After the one I found on his phone last month about her walking in on him using the restroom, I’m no longer taking any chances where she’s concerned.
I did take great pleasure in locking his penis on Tuesday night, and I know that deep down, he appreciates wearing the cage for me when he’s away. It’s just a simple little way for the two of us to maintain our bond when we’re apart.
Meanwhile, the kids and I are all pretty much packed for our trip to Texas on Saturday. Everyone’s so excited to finally get away from Illinois for a while. It seems like it’s been forever since we took a vacation together. I’m even taking a new little naughty bikini that hubby just bought for me to wear in Vegas…. Because a slutty girl never knows when she might get some alone time.
Hubby flies back into Chicago on Sunday so he’ll be in his cage all the way up until we return next Friday. Unless that is, I give him permission to cut the plastic travel lock when he gets home (Not gonna happen). I actually adore the thought of him at home in his little cage waiting like a good boy for his slutty wife to return. Yearning for me to put my ass up so that he can bury his handsome face in it. The fact that everyone at his office will likely know that he’s locked for the entire week is an added little bonus.
Finally, Jessica and her husband are all in for the Bushwood party next weekend. Apparently, her hubby’s not entirely elated to be attending. As I think I mentioned in an earlier post, it is more of a y0unger members party, and it definitely has a reputation for getting a little more on the wild side. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to bail on it, which actually wouldn’t disappoint me in the least. Just as long as she still decides to attend. In fact, I too will be going “stag,” and not having our husbands there will just make it sooooooo much easier to put my little plan in motion.
Sorry for not having anything hotter for you today. There’s just a ton going on right now. Fortunately, the summer looks like it’s heating up rather quickly.
I do think I’ll have the story on how I lost my cherry ready to drop in the next day or so. I’d definitely stay tuned for that one.
2021-06-18 04:09:32 +0000 UTC
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In case you missed it in your DM. I do love showing the girls off. Hope you don’t mind. 🔥😈
2021-06-17 03:10:38 +0000 UTC
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As many of you know, I had a little surgery 4 months ago. It’s called a Brazilian Butt Lift, BBL. they took what fat that could from my abdomen and transferred it to my butt. While I’ve healed significantly, my abdomen will take the longest to get back to “normal.” So if you wonder, “what the heck is up with her abs?” That’s what’s up. Please comment and like this post if you like to see these little posts in between my longer stories. Happy to do more! 😁
2021-06-16 18:38:01 +0000 UTC
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Bushwood’s Summer Solstice Party is the most sexually charged party of the year. It brings out the youngest members and the sexiest costumes. And this year, the theme could perhaps be the sexiest it’s ever been.
Gods and Goddesses.
It evokes thoughts in my head of an intimate and lush moonlit meadow on a warm Aegean summer eve. A maiden lies completely nude in its center, her fresh untouched feminine petals a gift of her village to the very King of the gods himself. The mighty erection of Zeus, poised at her dew slicked blossom, almost seems angry in the meadow’s soft light.
She will satisfy him completely before he takes his return to the skies, and it will take a fortnight for her y0ung frame to fully recover from the coupling.
Sadly, this night will forever be as much a curse to the maiden as it is a profound blessing, for she will never again experience neither the duration nor intensity of a violation as she will under the mount of Zeus. Although she will sneak many a night from the marital bed she shares with her kind, shepherd husband in pursuit of it.
Tips appreciated it’s you enjoy my stories. Thank you!
2021-06-15 18:57:38 +0000 UTC
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As many of you know, if I wear a bra, this is it. My tits were meant to be on display. Do you agree? Like and comment if so. 😁
2021-06-13 22:16:39 +0000 UTC
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I had been 13 for less than a month the very first time I showed a boy my panties. It was at a junior high track m33t on a Saturday in May. I vividly remember needing our warmups for the event because the weather was a little on the chillier side that day and overcast. His name was Thomas, and he was one of the very few black kids at my school. He ran the 100 and 200, did both of those relays, and also did the long jump. He won everything he entered, and everyone at school called him Carl Lewis. His father was also a doctor in town, so his family was actually pretty well off relative to a lot of the kids in our district, myself included.
We were walking back to the track from the concession stand when he told me we needed to a make a detour to the far gate which required going beneath the stadium bleachers. At the time, I thought nothing of it because I figured his next event was coming up and needed to the hurry to the start. But when we got about midway beneath the bleachers (a popular makeover spot because of its almost absolute isolation), he grabbed me firmly by the wrist, pulled me into him and kissed me. No looking into my eyes, no asking for permission, he just locked his soft lips onto mine and gently f0rced his tongue into my mouth. The whole thing took me completely by surprise, and the way Thomas handled himself was about as smooth as anything I’d seen on tv up to that point in my y0ung life. I melted into his strong arms and kissed him back. Up until that very second, I had no idea that Thomas was even into white girls, much less one from the trailer park on the south side of town. But he clearly was, and who was I to argue.
Time itself seemed to stop as we explored each other’s mouths, but if I had to guess, I’d say that we made out continuously for somewhere between 5 and 10 minutes. At no point in time did he ever attempt to make his way either up my warmup top or into my now very heated bottoms.
All it took to break us from our trance was one announcement from the PA system, which was situated directly above us. “First call for heat 1 of the boys 200 meters. Boys in heat 1 of the 200 meters need to report to gate 2 immediately.” The announcement meant absolutely nothing to me. I mean I’d obviously heard it, but I was so lost in the magic of the moment that it had barely even registered with me. I honestly would have been content to have stayed beneath the bleachers kissing Thomas until the end of eternity.
When Thomas broke our kiss, he looked me in the eye and flashed me the brightest smile that I’d ever seen. “This was awesome,” he said. “We definitely need to do it again. Maybe next weekend at Christina’s birthday party.” I nodded dumbstruck in response. I hadn’t even been invited to the snobby cunt’s party, but I didn’t want Thomas to know that. “How about you do something to give me some good luck for the 200?” he said, his smile noticeably turning more to sly side. “What’s that?” I said, eager to do anything within my power to bring luck to this boy and his amazing lips.
“Let me see your panties,” he said in response without one millisecond of hesitation.
“Oh my god,” I thought to myself, my heart sinking and my face turning an even brighter shade of crimson. My mind raced as I frantically tried to remember the panties I was even wearing. “Oh my god,” I thought once again as the answer hit me like a supersonic invisible jet. “Wonder Woman!!!” I was mortified. How could I avoid the embarrassment of Thomas seeing me in my little red Wonder Woman panties? There had to be away. And who would he tell at school on Monday, or even worse, next weekend at Christina’s party when he finds out I didn’t make the invite list? Would my new nickname at school forever be Linda Carter? All of these thoughts were racing through my teenage brain as my first awareness of the sensation wedged itself into my consciousness. There was something different going on “down there.” Something unusual that I hadn’t quite experienced to this level before. My panties had somehow gotten wet!!!! The worst of it was in the crotch, by my little pink private parts, but I could tell that it wasn’t entirely contained in that one spot. My mind reeled, as a new even larger wave of fear and anxiety crashed into my brain. Had I somehow peed myself while Thomas and I were making out? None of it made sense. I didn’t even need to go to the restroom for Christ’s sake!!!, I thought to myself.
Thomas, deciding there was no additional time to be wasted, took the initiative and fished his index and middle fingers into the waistband of my warmups, adeptly searching for the drawstring that was holding them over my hips. With this one executive action, an instant calmness washed across my entire body. The whole entire moment was now completely beyond my control I rationalized to myself, coming to the simultaneous conclusion that Thomas’s luck in the 200 meters was paramount to everything else in any event, and reasoning that it would be absolutely ridiculous to assume that my altruistic gesture could in any way generate the negative consequences I was dreading. Wet Wonder Woman or not, Thomas needed to see my panties, and I was not going to let him down.
I remember feeling the pressure in my lower back as Thomas found the snug knot and pulled on the drawstring to undo the bow. With the bow released, my warmups slid easily past my smooth and rounding hip, exposing the red track shorts beneath. The look on Thomas’s face developed an intensity as he achieved this significant waypoint, clearly knowing that his objective was but one little tug away. I stood motionless, like the proverbial deer in headlights, awaiting my fate.
With one quick pull on each leg, my Wonder Woman panties were now completely exposed, and the chill of the cool spring breeze on the soaked patch between my thighs sent a shiver throughout my entire body.
“Fuck, those are hot,” Thomas said almost to himself. And with that he quickly took his leave, heading swiftly back the way we’d come toward gate 2, leaving me standing completely alone in my very wet Underoos.
The next day I went to my best friend’s trailer. Her name was Lilly, and she lived on the opposite side of the park from me, We spent a lot of time together, especially on the weekends, and I confided everything in her. I told her about everything that had happened with Thomas, ending with the mystery of the slippery wet substance that had found it’s way into my panties.
Lilly laughed hard as she got up from her bed and searched for something on her bookshelf. Ten seconds later she bellyflopped back next to me with a textbook she’d been given as part of a church y0uth program on the experience of puber+y. Flipping to chapter six, Lilly explained that her pastor had told her class that what had happened to me was a gift from Jesus, but that such a gift was meant to be shared only with our husbands. And never ever anyone else.
“Looks like your ass is marrying Thomas,” she said laughingly as she slammed the textbook shut.
We spent the rest of the afternoon eating twizzlers and watching MTV.
2021-06-13 04:25:33 +0000 UTC
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Yesterday with Raef and Jessica went swimmingly. It’s not as though she doesn’t already know him, but this was their first interaction of any length of time beyond 30 seconds. To Raef’s credit, he made the encounter seem entirely spontaneous, and he stayed for just one drink before heading off to a tee time with a very conservative hedge fund manager known to have fallen hard for certain very popular conspiracy theories now in circulation. Raef should have no difficulty wrangling a huge donation from him.
And there was nothing even remotely untoward about our conversation, which primarily involved the warm weather and how amazing it’s been to finally be able to socialize again without masks. But the instant Raef excused himself, I began to act as though I was feverishly scrolling through my phone looking for something, when in fact I’d already saved a fresh screenshot of Raef’s stupendous penis to use at just this very moment. “Can you believe that stud is packing this anaconda in his jockeys,” I said with a huge grin while showing her the pic of Raef’s fully engorged sex organ. “Have you ever been impaled on something that thick in your entire fucking life?” I asked with a nudge. The question was purely rhetorical, based our previous conversations regarding her limited sexual history and her husband’s “baby carrot.”
As I’d hoped, Jessica couldn’t take her eyes off the picture, and I swear I could almost smell her getting wet at the thought oh having the perfectly shaped tip of Raef’s manhood perched at her entrance. “Oh well,” I said pulling my phone from her face to avoid the impending strand of drool from coating the screen. “It’s a damn shame he only prefers older women like me,” I laughed chidingly, nudging her once again with my elbow. “I bet he’d hate having to fuck such a perfectly tight y0ung little pussy like yours.”
She looked at me with an extremely uncomfortable grin on her face, clearly signaling her need to rush home to the faithful lover she keeps discreetly covered in the bottom of her nightstand.
The club’s summer gods and goddesses party is coming up toward the end of June. I’m going to make it my mission to find her the shortest, sexiest tunic imaginable. One that the most definitely cannot be worn with panties.
**no sound on the first video. Sorry! 🤷♀️
2021-06-06 18:17:22 +0000 UTC
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I’m hanging out with Jessica at the pool today while our husbands golf a full 36 holes. I’m glad that the two of them are starting to become friends, because they’re about to have way more in common than just their memberships at Bushwood if I have any say in it lol. Plus, I think it would honestly do my husband some good to have another cage wearing cuckold friend. He wouldn’t feel so terribly strange and isolated.
But all of that is for another time. In the immediate present, I’m a little upset with my husband. Not so much him, actually, but Chrissy. Last night, on a hunch, I took his phone and read all the texts between him and “Flat Albert,” as I now refer to her. And this is what I found from their last work trip!
“I’m soooooo sorry that I barged in on you p33!ng before your shower lol. I swear I thought you were already in. It was sorta sweet how embarrassed you were. If it’s any consolation, you looked very cute. And I had absolutely no idea that you had to sit while you wear that... #adorable😍
Next time just go in the shower, silly!”
Of all the parts in that text that anger me to my jealous female core, the one that has me actually wanting to ch0ke this fat cunt out the most is her use of the words “Next time.”
With her and my husband set to leave on their training trip next week, I’m at a complete loss as to what to even do. The two of them will be left entirely unattended this time. And I’m certain that she’s already plotting about how she can maneuver my husband into some escalated type of compromising position. This time I’m convinced it won’t just be an “accidental” intrusion on my sweet hubby’s bathroom privacy.
I know her ultimate goal is to grind her dirty cunt all over my husband’s submissive face. And probably after she’s made him watch some portly stranger from the hotel bar go spelunking in it.
Uggg!!!!!
But from this point on today, I’m going to put my total focus on Jessica. There’s plenty of time to worry about Chrissy tomorrow.
Incidentally, I’ve arranged for Raef to “coincidentally” show up at the pool to have a drink or two with us.
2021-06-05 21:56:49 +0000 UTC
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I originally bought hubby a chastity cage so that he wouldn’t have to go without a constant reminder of my loving presence whenever he’s away from me for any extended period of time, such as when he travels for work. The decision was mostly for his own good, obviously, but his willingness to wear it also demonstrates the level of commitment to our relationship that wives such as myself crave from our husbands. I’m happy to report that in the short time that we’ve experimented with my husband’s device, I can honestly say that it’s brought the two of us even closer together than we already were (except for maybe where fat Chrissy is concerned). But in the process, I’m also learning that the benefits are so much broader than just intimacy building
When we first got the cage, I had my husband wear it for several days. Not because I had any designs on having him wear it other than when he traveled, but because I simply wanted to ensure that it was comfortable and safe for him wear over an extended period of time. However (and to my astonishment), after a mere 24 hours in chastity, I began to notice several dramatically positive shifts in my husband’s general demeanor, some of which included:
1. A greater level of consideration for my feelings and comfort (including two amazing foot massages!);
2. Quicker and more engaged responsiveness to my texts; and
3. An openness to certain aspects of our relationship that he’d heretofore been apprehensive to embrace, such as his being publicly outing as my supportive cuckold.
All of these behavioral shifts have been absolutely wonderful, but the area of our marriage in which it’s had the greatest positive impact has been in our bedroom. Not only is my husband now willing to devote a greater investment of his time in my pleasure, but he’s also spontaneously expanded his repertoire to include some new activities that have left his wife (on two separate occasions!!!) a smiling mess of a puddle of post orgasmic bliss.
Where it’s had the most surprisingly amazing impact is his seemingly newfound interest in my cute little anus😊. Full disclosure - I adore having it eaten. Perhaps eaten is somewhat imprecise. I adore having it made out with, sloppily and from behind. I love putting my ass up and having it tenderly kissed, the edges languidly traced with the tip of a soft wet tongue, before finally having it full open mouthed-kissed, with the attendant breach that comes with every kiss of the French variety.
To put it simply, I love having my asshole worshipped. But this is something that my semi-puritanical evangelical husband has always demonstrated reluctance toward doing for me. And in the past, any oral attention given to my rosebud has required a direct order from me, usually involving f0rcing my husband to lie on his back while I lower my ass to his handsome face.
Until two weeks ago.
Fresh off his pantygate confession and still in chastity, I laid on my back and spread my legs to allow him to win back some points. Expecting nothing from him other than the routine dance of his lips and tongue across my clit, I was surprised by his request to elevate my bottom with the strategic placement of one of our pillows, to which I willingly obliged. Imagine my astonishment as my sweet, caged husband began our lovemaking by tenderly showered my pussy with a series of gentle butterfly kisses beginning with my clit and slowly traversing the full length of my sex, before finally crossing my southern vaginal border into assville. My heart leapt as my husband continued his gentle licks and kisses into this new frontier, before finally pressing his tongue firmly into the tight folds of my ring and tracing the entire perimeter until once again finding himself at the starting point. Then my eyes rolled into the back of my head as I felt him lock his sexy mouth onto its every contour and plunge his tongue as deeply into me as I think his penis could ever reach. In combination with the repetitive grazing contact from the tip of his nose on my clit, he had me climaxing hard in a matter of minutes. So unusual was this orgasm that I was literally incapable of even speaking for several moments. We cuddled silently for several minutes afterwards, basking in the powerfully erotic moment.
It was shortly after stepping into the shower almost a half an hour later that I came to the stunning realization that I owed it all to his chastity device. Or as I now refer to it, the mother of all marital aids.
Tips appreciated if you enjoy my stories and videos. 🙏😘
2021-06-04 02:17:05 +0000 UTC
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