I’m not sure why my husband would get off on having thousands of people read about my love life, but he asked me to write this letter and I can’t deny him his pleasure.
We are very happily married, and the addition of my lover Yves has seemed to enhance our sex life. He comes to this country regularly on business, and for three years now we have seen each other every three months for two or three days at a time. My husband insists it would be a pity not to share some of my stories of our escapades with your readers.
I’m 38, with three daughters. To describe myself I would say I’m a tall brunette, five feet six, 36C. My men say that I get plenty of lustful looks when I’m out on the street. My husband wants me to add that I keep my bush nicely trimmed, almost bare, and that both he and Yves say I have a butt that really turns men on. Also, my nipples are always erect.
I will say, I love my guys and they give me a lot of pleasure. Yves is a lot of years older than I am (his wife died many years previously), big and tall in every way. He’s very handsome. I still remember how wet he got me when he first came on to me three years ago. When he got me to a hotel, he fucked me—and came—five times! Even now he can sometimes come three or four times a day.
Anyway, I was reminiscing recently with my husband about a particular adventure Yves and I had, so I thought I would write it down. It was April, and he came by the house to pick me up just after my husband got home. We sat and talked for an hour, and Yves visited with the girls.
Finally, telling the girls I was off to a writers’ conference with Yves (I’m a playwright), we drove to a really cute country inn not far from his company’s US. site. I always have some butterflies in my stomach, because even though my husband encourages our liaison, what I was doing is judged illicit by most of society.
We checked in as man and wife, which seemed to make my tall lover (he’s six feet four) strut a bit on the way to our room, which was on the second floor. He carried our bags up the stairs, and when we got to our door put them down and started kissing me right there in the hallway! I tried feebly to push him away, but he was insistent. He had his big hands all over me and was making my pussy really wet. I felt his hardness against me.
Finally he broke the kiss and unlocked the door. We didn’t even notice the room, but tore each other’s clothes off. Yves pushed me down on the bed and spread my soaking-wet pussy lips with his fingers. Without a word he slowly pushed his big uncircumcised cock right in me! I was so wet, it just slid in. He hadn’t had sex since the last time I’d seen him, three months earlier, and he was like a starving man.
The bed was one of those high-off-the-floor four-posters, the perfect height for my giant Frenchman to power his way straight into my “wide-open chat,” as he likes to call it. There was no time for foreplay. I curled my feet around his back and pulled him deep into me. His cock is somewhat longer and fatter than my husband’s, and it felt fantastic. His being uncircumcised is a treat for an American girl.
By now he was groaning and telling me how much he missed me and my chat, and I was moaning nonstop. After about 15 minutes of hard fucking, he came inside me with a shout, then pulled his lovely tool out and let me lick him clean.
We lay together catching our breath. I knew it wouldn’t be long before this love machine was hard again. We talked and snuggled and stroked each other’s body. I just adore his massive and not-at-all-fat body.
He was getting a bit hard again, but I realized I was very hungry. It was already eight o’clock at night and in that sleepy town things close early. Reluctantly, we got up. Yves wanted to see what clothes I had brought. I opened my suitcase and he saw his favorite red polka-dot dress. I had only intended to wear it in the room for him, but he insisted I put it on to go out. I can’t wear a bra with it because it has a low back, so I didn’t, though that made me extremely self-conscious—as I said, my nipples are always hard, and stick out at the most inconvenient times!
We drove to an intimate restaurant and ate dinner. (I certainly don’t remember what!) We sat side by side on the banquette, French-style, and much of the time Yves had his hand up my dress. Since we were protected from view by a big tablecloth, I let him, and all through dinner I felt his come dripping out of me and soaking my white cotton underpants.
It wasn’t terribly comfortable, so when I went to the bathroom I took the panties off. There was a big load of semen in them. I scooped out some and licked it, then threw the panties in the trash pail. As I walked back toward the table, Yves watched me intently weaving among the tables with my big breasts bouncing gently. I sat back down next to him, and before long he discovered my naked pussy. He went crazy with lust! He said he’d never touched anyone’s bare cunt in public before.
We must have made quite a picture there in this uptight little country town—a man with a woman 20 years his junior, both squirming all over the banquette. I hope the onlookers were scandalized! When we left, I confess that I myself strutted a bit, just to show all those staid, uptight folks what they were missing.
Even when we got back to the hotel and stepped out of the car, Yves’s come was still oozing out of me. In the hotel lobby we stopped to say something to the nice woman at the desk, and some of it plopped right down on the wood floor between my feet! When I mentioned this to Yves on the way upstairs, he laughed and laughed!
This time when we got to the door Yves kept the key in his pocket and told me to unbutton the dress right there in the hallway! He can be very commanding when he wants, and I guess I can be a bit submissive. There was no one around, so I did what he said, unbuttoning the dress all the way down. Then he said, “Show me everything,” so I held it open. I looked down at my naked body and saw dried come all over my leg.
Yves stood back and admired the view. Then he said, “Take the dress all the way off, Michelle, and hand it to me.” Just the way he said my name was electric! I did as he said. Until this point if someone had come out of their room I could have just closed the dress up. But now, as I handed him the dress, I was totally vulnerable.
“Turn around,” he said.
I know Yves adores my ass. So does my husband, for that matter, but my husband has never seen it naked in a hotel corridor! I turned around and then turned my head and saw the lust in Yves’s eyes. It was an amazing moment. My nipples were hard as rubies. I was so nervous, my heart was pounding.
In his French accent Yves said, “Spread your legs,” and I did. He said, “Bend over, my beloved mistress—all the way.” His command was thrilling, and made me feel completely wicked and depraved. I bent slowly to the floor from my waist with my knees straight so that my dripping cunt was completely exposed to him. It must have been a few seconds, but to me it seemed like forever.
Finally he said, “You may stand now.” Ever so slowly he pulled the key card out of his pocket and handed it to me. I opened the door, and when we were in the room I got down on my knees and begged him to let me lick his cock. I really wanted to serve him. He walked over to me, unzipped his pants and let me have his hot and hard member. It was unbelievably sexy being totally naked in front of him while he was fully dressed. As I took his huge tool in and out of my mouth, I looked up at him and gave him my best “sex slave” look.
After a while he told me, “Get on the bed. This cock is going to fill up your wet chat.” While I lay there, he undressed slowly, carefully folding his pants, putting his shirt on a hanger and deliberately taking his time until he was nude. He walked over to the bed, raised my legs to my shoulders and thrust his throbbing thick dick in me. God, it was sexy! After maybe ten minutes of that he got me on my knees and, after filling me back up with his delightful member, spanked my bottom. Holding onto me with his left hand, he spanked my right cheek four or five times. Blood surged to my ass and cunt. We were on fire.
Yves continued to fuck me hard, often reaching around to play with my swinging breasts. Then he said to look in the mirror over the desk. I hadn’t realized how perfectly placed it was. He loves watching us make love in mirrors, and it was really something to watch his big cock piston in and out of me and see my tits swing back and forth with every thrust. After announcing that he was going to fill me up with his hot seed, he slammed into me while gripping my hips and spewed another big load inside me.
After that I took my bath and we fell asleep in each other’s arms. In the morning when I woke up Yves got on top of me and slipped his hardness in me without saying a word. After he came, he cleaned up and got ready to leave for a day at his nearby office. I like to sleep late, so after that lovely morning session of coitus I fell fast asleep.
I woke up late, had coffee and tried reading a book, but it was like my body was on fire, my hormones were raging so much. I slipped off my white robe, which I had worn down to the lobby to get myself some coffee, and sat on the edge of the bed looking over at the mirror where I had watched us make such hot love the night before. I almost never do this, but soon I started to touch myself all over. I don’t remember ever masturbating with such passion.
I watched in the mirror as my pussy lips swelled open and got all moist. I slipped a finger inside and started to get really excited. It felt so naughty, and so right. I slipped down onto the nice soft rug and really let loose. I sopped up the wetness emanating from my pussy and strummed my clitoris furiously with my wet fingers while pinching my nipples with the other hand.
I couldn’t believe I was doing this! Sometimes I do masturbate to help myself fall asleep at night, or I’ll stroke myself for my husband’s viewing pleasure, but almost never just out of raw lust, especially all alone in the middle of the morning! I started coming, and it went on and on. I bucked up and down on the floor, moaning. I slipped my hand down and found so much juice running out of me that the carpet was damp. Afterward, I just lay there in a daze of delight.
I don’t know what I did for the rest of the day, but around four in the afternoon I got ready for Yves’s return to the room. I put on the tight sheer white negligee my husband had bought me and my see-through white thong. I heard him coming down the hall. I had left the door latch so that it held the door unlocked.
When Yves walked in, I was on the bed facing him, stroking my pussy with one hand while the other held the thong aside. He said, “You know, anyone could have walked in this door,” and I asked if it turned him on knowing some strange man might have come in and helped himself to my treasures. He said that everything about me turned him on, and took his clothes off as fast as he could—no neat folding this time!
His cock was already hard. He came over to me and spread my legs, then grasped my thong with both hands and literally tore it off me. This was so sexy, I couldn’t believe it. Then he thrust his big tool in and fucked me like a wild man. After a while he pulled out, got on his back and told me to mount him. I got on top of him and slid down over his big shaft. He had me strip off the negligee, then feasted on my hard nipples.
After a while he pushed me up and said he knew that I was very fond of horses when I was younger.
“Yes,” I said breathlessly.
“So now,” he continued, “you like riding cocks, don’t you? Hmm?”
I said that I did indeed love cock-riding, and started to roll up and down on his big frame just like posting on a horse. Because of how big he is, when I ride him just right, my clitoris rubs up and down on his pubic area and I get the most overwhelming erotic sensations.
After a glorious ride for at least ten minutes, Yves said he had an idea. I dismounted, and he got off the bed. He pulled a hassock to the middle of the room, then got on it, with his precious cock pointing straight at me. He beckoned me over, then leaned back, resting his arms on a chair, and said, “It’s time for your French lesson, chérie.”
I walked over to the hassock and impaled myself on him while facing him. The hassock was a perfect height. I started posting up and down on him while he thrust up into me with every beat. He said, “This is called chevrauchet”—mounted on a horse. He was so big that it really was like the bareback horse-riding of my teen years. It was just unbelievably sexy.
I realized I was about to come, something I rarely achieve in intercourse with my beloved husband. Yves said he could feel my pussy muscles contracting, and I cried out, “Fuck me harder.” He readily obliged and started slamming up into my cunt. I wailed like a banshee as I came, which caused him to shoot up into me at the same time. That may have been the most intense sex I have ever had. Even now, just retelling this story to my husband is guaranteed to get me a great fucking every time.
When we had time to catch our breath, with Yves’s softening tool still inside me, he told me that I was the hottest lover he had ever had, with the tightest pussy. I stood up slowly and his member plopped down on the hassock, all covered with creamy come from both of us. Thank God the hassock was made of vinyl and washable!
We napped for a long time then, and when we awoke, we talked until dinnertime. Yves reached for me, but I rebuffed him, pointing out that it was dinnertime. He pinned me to the bed and said, “Yes, it is. You know, now that you mention it, I am hungry.”
It was an amazing few days. I hope you publish this letter so both of my men can read it, and maybe a few others as well.
—M.T., Philadelphia, Pennsylvania