I met my wife while I was on assignment for my property firm. She was the clerk that assisted me in finding the land tracts I was looking for. The way she wore her strawberry blonde hair in a bun and her nerdy glasses made her appear older and bookwormish. She was very shy, but when I got a closer look I saw she was a hidden treasure, with a bombshell body and the silkiest skin you can imagine. In the end I won her heart. The fact that she wouldn’t allow me the liberty of bedding her only made me want her more.
On our wedding night Diane wouldn’t let me go down on her and refused to suck my dick. We had intercourse, but she was the coldest woman I was ever with. I didn’t fret, though. I figured she would be more receptive to the enjoyment of sex as time went by.
I tried buying self-help books, but they didn’t help. I bought her a vibrator, and she threw it away, saying, “Only prostitutes use things like that.” We were having bad sex maybe once a week, and I was about to throw in the towel.
My wife and I tried a website we saw in Penthouse Letters, and she found what she wanted and couldn’t resist in the form of a black man who was extremely well-endowed and muscular. We contacted him and after several back-and-forths set up a meeting at a local bar. We got pretty drunk, and she was flirting with him shamelessly, grinding into him while they danced. She said to me, “He’s huge down there. I’m soaked.”
I watched, jealous but turned on. My wife suggested we get a Jacuzzi room, so we left and got some beer and headed to the room. The three of us got in the room, and my wife told me to go for some ice. By the time I got back, this man had my wife ass naked with a mouthful of the biggest cock I have ever seen in person—nine inches and thick. She was worshipping this cock, moaning and choking, with spit running down her face and tits.
She was so involved, she didn’t even notice me till he said, “Your husband’s back.” She said, “Baby, come over here and give Mommy a kiss.” I went to her and she pulled his cock out of her mouth but leaves it only inches from her mouth. As I kiss her his cock is so close, I can smell it. She says, “How does his cock taste?” I said, “Your kiss tastes good.” She says, “Good boy,” then continued pleasuring him, looking me in the eyes, saying, “I love this big black cock,” slapping herself with it, saying, “You can’t please me like this. So go fill the tub.”
Until three months ago, if someone had suggested I might cheat on my husband, I’d have said no way. That changed when the jerk-off lost my ass and pussy on a bet—a bet on pro wrestling at that! My Shelly swears it’s all real, and gets mad when anyone says otherwise.
That night he had two asshole buddies over, and while they were all drunk he declared he would “bet everything” on one of his heroes.
“You mean everything?” Lester said. Shelly nodded. Phil said Shelly could keep the house and that shit, what they wanted was me.
They were always hot for me, trying to feel me up and all, so it was no real surprise. Shelly thought for a moment, then said, “Okay.” Naturally his hero gets his ass beat, and Shelly’s asshole buddies practically have their dicks out in anticipation. He comes upstairs and tells me I have to service them! I’m furious!
“Fine, you fucking jerk,” I said. “You want me to be a whore, so be it. But you have to watch while I let your stupid friends fuck me. I hope you’re happy!” I went down to the living room and said, “Okay, guys, a deal’s a deal,” and pulled my skirt up to my waist and got a breast out. They sat staring with their mouths hanging open.
It started as another of our block parties, which always feature plenty of good food and booze, and pretty good company—if you’ve had enough booze. My husband always liked to joke that I could be found “making the rounds with a cocktail in her hand,” which I suppose he thought was funny. That day I was wearing a modest but flimsy short dress with spaghetti straps holding the top just above my boobs. I was bare-legged except for a pair of sandals, and thought I looked pretty sexy for 41.
For a sedate suburban block there are a surprising number of cute guys, making me wish, as always, that their wives weren’t my at-least-supposed friends. But there’s no law against flirting, so that’s what I was doing when I noticed a suspicious conversation—I’d almost describe it as “conspiratorial”—taking place between Walt (my husband) and our host, Enzo, plus another neighbor, Patrick—as it happens, two hunks I’d had my eye on for ages. I didn’t know what was going on, but I had a bad feeling.
I tried to put it out of my mind, though, and enjoy the party. But an hour later, when a lot of the guests were leaving, my husband, grabbed my wrist and said, “I need to talk to you,” and started to almost drag me upstairs. I had a good idea of what was going on, and when we got upstairs and I saw light coming out of an open door at the end of the hallway, I knew where it was supposed to be going on.
Pat and I have been going strong for over 40 years and are still two horny people who make love at least twice a week. Often on Saturday nights we go with two or three couples either to a local club or to one of our homes. Either way, before the night is over we have a fling with all the others. It’s worked for us because we all believe jealousy and dishonesty are first cousins.
However, Pat and I only act like this while we’re with those friends—except if Pat has to travel for a meeting or to buy more goods for her shop. She always tries and mostly succeeds at finding a young guy who’s also away from home. She’s told me all the stories—like the time she spent a whole week with this guy in his early 30s.
In her shop Pat employs two young wives to assist her, one in the morning, the other in the afternoon, and in the afternoon a young man comes in for two or three hours to help with the heavy work and keep the stock room in order.
After college my sweetheart and I found jobs in cities near enough to continue our relationship but distant enough to create a problem when we decided to get married. Our solution: to find a cozy place in the country in between the cities where we work.
We moved in right after our honeymoon, just dumping in the boxes of shit from our old apartments. One day I was doing some unpacking while Michelle was at work and inadvertently opened one of her cartons. It was full of videotapes. Intrigued, I carried it to the TV room.
There were 36 numbered tapes. I loaded “No. 1,” and saw Michelle lying naked on the bed in her old apartment masturbating! As I sat captivated, the camera zoomed in on her glistening vagina and a male voice said, “You like playing with your pretty little pussy, don’t you?”
“I love it!” she said. “But I need to be fucked!” Which shocked me. In our (many) sexual encounters, she never once used foul language.
Eight years ago I met the love of my life. I was in my late 50s and she was ten years younger, but even today she only looks to be in her early 40s according to everyone who ever meets her. She was absolutely beautiful—very petite, about five feet one, 110 pounds, with a tight body, a gorgeous dark tan, brown hair and the best-looking ass I could ever remember seeing, the result of a strenuous daily workout routine. As I discovered later, she was also a “squirter,” something I had always heard about but didn’t believe existed.
Tessa was the most innocent-looking lady you could ever envision—all class! After talking all afternoon, we discovered we were both in unhappy and dull marriages, and as the night progressed we realized we were really into each other. After I walked her back to her cottage, she lured me into her room, then pulled me close and began gently kissing me, I felt myself getting excited.
The next thing I knew, she pushed me against the wall, ripped my shirt open, removed her bra and rubbed her hard nipples against me. As she worked her way down my body, I felt her lips and tongue leaving wet circles all over me. Finally she reached my cock and began taking me in and out. She did things I could not believe, first sucking on my dick and deep-throating me, then gently blowing and kissing my balls, taking first one and then the other in her mouth. Within minutes I was ready to explode, and when I did, she swallowed every last drop, saying how good I tasted.
When my wife and I got engaged I was in the Air Force. We moved in together—and we had a terrific time until I got my orders for overseas deployment.
During my eight-month tour we stayed in touch with letters, which took almost a week to arrive. At first Ginny gave a summary of what she did each day, like shopping with girlfriends, or a movie, or dinner with friends. Then I got a letter saying she and her friend Carla were going to the beach on Saturday. I realized that by the time I got the letter this had already happened, so in my reply I asked if she had a fun day and said I’d love to get a picture of her in her swimsuit.
It took almost two weeks to get her reply. She said they had a great time, and did take pictures. She enclosed a few, showing her and Carla in very sexy bikinis. I’d never seen Ginny in this suit. It was white and very skimpy. It was obvious that she’d just gotten out of the water, and the wet bikini didn’t hide much. She has a great body, with long dark hair, olive skin, a great ass and large, firm breasts. The material covering those ample breasts and beneath her flat stomach was thin enough that I could see the dark ring round her hard nipples, which were sticking out for all to see, and I could make out dark pubic hair through the bottom.
For about a year now my wife Olivia, a really hot cougar/MILF, has been getting fucked once a month by a young man half her age, with an unusually large prick. She loves it, he loves it, and I’m okay with it, for reasons I will tell you about.
It all started with my wife’s niece, Alice, who lives and works in a nearby city. She is in her late 20s and is an unusually attractive lady, tall, slim, and shapely. About three years ago, Alice’s long-time best male friend, Ross, finally became a “friend with benefits.” The two of them had not hooked up previously because neither of them wanted to risk their friendship on an affair that might or might not pan out. But then Alice began hearing from some of her female friends that Ross was unusually well endowed, and that he knew how to use what he had. The word was that his cock was nearly nine inches long. Alice was intrigued, but resisted for a time her impulse to bring up the subject with Ross.
But one evening, over a dinner accompanied by a liberal amount of wine, she found herself probing and even teasing him a bit over what she had heard about his manhood. Ross took it in good spirit, and admitted that his endowment did indeed measure up to the rumors she had referred to.
When I got divorced and moved to a new neighborhood two years ago, I met a lady named Letitia, who hung out at a local bar which I also frequented. She was a good looking, mature woman, who I guessed to be in her late 40s or maybe early 50s. She was pleasant to talk to, and we often sat at the bar and chatted over a few drinks. Over the course of a few months we became good friends. She was really a hell of a nice lady, widowed but not bitter, and very outgoing.
I often wondered why she didn’t have a man. I couldn’t see a gray hair on her head, and no stretch marks or wrinkles, other than some very faint crow’s feet around the eyes. She had curly dark hair, blue eyes and a nice smile. She also had the prettiest pair of legs I’d ever seen, smooth and shapely. I told her several times that her legs should be on a billboard somewhere, advertising stockings or high-heeled shoes, but she just laughed. I sometimes heard other people making comments about her legs as well, even though her hemline never rose more than an inch or two above her knees.
I found her legs so attractive, along with the rest of her, that after a time I began to flirt with her a little. Since I had never seen her come in with a guy, I figured I had a good chance. Letitia knew what I was after, and she was good-natured about it, even seeming to enjoy the chase, though she would scold me gently whenever I suggested that she go home with me.
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