For nine wonderful years, our life—my wife’s and mine—was filled with fun, love and a deep friendship, even if our sex life wasn’t much more than adequate. She was more of an accommodator than a sexually exciting woman, and I have to admit that during our time together, while I was always faithful, on many occasions I sighed silently when a beautiful, sexy woman caught my eye and that primal urge overcame me.
And fantasy can make up for shortcomings, but only up to a point. Oh, I’d had my share of amorous adventures before I met my wife, and while we were together I tried to interest her in more adventurous exploits like swinging and sharing. But that wasn’t her, and I wouldn’t have given up what we had together for anything.
Then she was gone. Cancer.
A little over a year after her passing, my stepson (her son from her previous marriage) came to visit me in Florida for a fishing trip. Since I work an hour from home, he flew into the airport near my office, but he wouldn’t be arriving until three hours after I quit work. I decided to pass the time in a large convenience store-slash-gas station next to one of the many parking lots around the airport. I could park for free and wait for his call. (We had arranged that when his plane was on the ground and he had his baggage he would call me and I would pick him up at the curb.)
So after work I drove there and parked. But as I was walking across the parking lot to the store, I was approached by a pretty strawberry blonde about 23 or 24. She was short but nicely shaped, wearing a low-cut orange sundress that showed off her pert round tits exceptionally well. She explained that she had driven down from Pennsylvania for a job interview and had pulled in to purchase gas for her return trip and discovered her credit card was over the limit.
After that first day of sailing, the plan was for the boat to sail to a nearby island for our first overnight. Renée and I wanted to spend time on a secluded island next to our layover; we were to be dropped off after lunch for a few hours of swimming and sunbathing.
I donned a polo shirt and low-cut European-style swim trunks. Renée came up from below in a cut-off T-shirt and tight shorts that barely covered her behind. I asked if she had a bathing suit on underneath. “You’ll see,” she replied as we left the boat, and off we went on foot, with a few beers and water. We walked around the island until we found a secluded beach where we were alone and out of sight. We spread our blanket under a tall palm.
I wanted to swim, but Renée said, “Not so fast,” and locked me in an embrace. She kissed me deeply, inserting her tongue. “I can’t believe how incredible it felt to make love last night,” she said.
It was such an honor! Nineteen other girls and myself had been booked into one of the city’s smartest hotels because we’d made it through to the final round of the pageant. From among the hundreds of girls who had competed statewide, the next night one of the 20 of us would be crowned the winner! The final round would be televised live, and naturally I was determined to use what time remained to improve my chances of coming out on top.
I sat on the floor of my hotel room rifling through my suitcases, keen to find my sexy red bikini—the one that showed off everything! With my curvaceous body, I knew that I had a real good chance of winning the swimsuit segment. The red bikini, which my Poppa kept complaining was little more than two pieces of string, was certain to win me a lot of good comments from the judges.
I found the bikini wrapped up in a towel and immediately stripped so I could put it on and parade around in front of the mirror and check out how I looked. When I saw myself, my jaw nearly dropped to the floor in shock. The tiny top and wispy thong totally failed to conceal the milk-white flesh around my tits and thighs.
1. HIS STORY
After my affair, my wife became the naughty sex kitten I always hoped for. She’s a beautiful brunette. We have three children, and at 43 she still looks great. She has medium-size breasts with uniquely large, thick hard nipples (her aureole are small, making those incredible nipples look even larger). She also has lovely long, silky, dangly inner labia.
About a year ago my wife discovered I was having an affair with a work colleague. As you could guess, our marriage had been going downhill. My wife and I grew up in a conservative religion with a strong emphasis on moral purity. She remained religiously uptight, and over 20 years of marriage we grew apart. I felt stuck in a rut and unsatisfied. From time to time she tried with me for a while to change things up, but then quickly slipped back into the routine.
When my wife discovered my affair she nearly divorced me. Our relationship was almost destroyed. But eventually we determined to work through it. She made me tell her all about the affair—when and how it started, how often I saw the girlfriend, etc. In time she even asked for intimate details. Now, instead of being majorly upset, she seemed intrigued.
The story I’m going to relate occurred about nine months ago, a few months after Greta and I returned from a weeklong vacation at a nude beach in the Caribbean. We were there to cheer her up in regards to her turning 40—even though she has pretty much the same bombshell body (five feet seven, 130 pounds, 36C-25-34) she had when we got married 15 years ago.
Our stay included four wonderfully fulfilling days with two 21-year-old guys we met who were hung like horses. Greta enjoyed the attention they paid her and relished the sex the four of us had. Our reminiscing about those four days always led to a steamy sex session between us.
This particular night we were hooking up with a couple, Ryan and Marie, we’d known for eight or nine years, going back to when they lived next door and came to our house all the time for parties and dinners, including games of strip poker that usually ended with us pairing off with each other’s spouses for great sex. Marie’s boobs are only a little smaller than Greta’s, but because she’s a few inches shorter, hers look kind of huge. Ryan is a six-foot blond Adonis with a dick as big as the boys in the Islands. It’s longer than mine, but not as thick.
I met my future wife ten years ago when she moved into our area in time for her senior year in high school. Grace was shy, so adjusting to a new school wasn’t easy for her. In addition, she was a bookworm who preferred sitting alone in the library to socializing with classmates. She was easily attractive enough and had a more than good enough body to attract attention from boys. She just didn’t seem interested. I think her shyness and bookishness made her one of those kids in school who “hide in plain sight.”
At that time I was absorbed in athletics and didn’t even know who she was until the second semester, when our chemistry teacher made us lab partners. She was really smart and did all of the experiments, while I goofed off and got half the credit and a good grade. For a while that semester I considered asking her out, but frankly she seemed so aloof, I didn’t know quite how to go about it.
And of course my focus was on girls I thought I could bang. Attractive as Grace was, I knew instinctively that she wouldn’t be interested. I realize now that I was just too stupid and self-absorbed to realize what a prize was sitting across from me at the lab table.
Nobody chooses to get bored. It just happens. Even if you find an activity you love and know you’ll love forever, the reality is that you’ll still get bored by it eventually. Sadly, it’s the same with people. I never intended to get bored with Robert.
To be fair, I can’t say I was bored with him. I was bored with us, with the situation we were in after 10 years of marriage. I loved being married, and Robert is not only a wonderful man but a wonderful husband and provider for our family. I truly had no complaints. Except that after years of being together it was tough to have things seem new and exciting again.
I was lucky that Robert felt the same way, and had the guts to say so. Many couples claim to be very close, yet hide from the difficult topics like “I’m sorta bored with fucking you, honey.” Once, with the kids in bed, we were able to take a rare moment on a weeknight to sit and share a glass of wine, and Robert brought up the subject of bedroom boredom. The next thing you know we had an hourlong talk, which he ended by saying, “We should make more of an effort to have it be different.”
That sounded great but really wasn’t a legitimate solution. I had no idea what he meant by it, or what it meant that we would do next. I found out the following Friday morning.
I’m a third-year law student and work as a paralegal in a DA’s office while in school. Because I spent several years between college and law school, I’m the same age as most of the younger lawyers in the office. I often have lunch with a group of the lawyers, who are mostly women, and have become very friendly with one ADA in particular, Renée. She’s about five feet six, and very attractive. She has a nice figure, with long legs and beautiful thighs that she loves to show off by wearing short skirts. She has shapely breasts that sit high on her chest.
At lunch we always flirted, flashing furtive glances and smiles at each other. We would walk together and were always touching each other innocently. There was a definite sexual tension between us, but nothing happened. I was just too intimidated, being a mere law student.
Last spring a few lawyers organized a staff sailing vacation in the Caribbean. I hadn’t been on a vacation in a while, and it coincided with my spring break, so I decided to go. As luck would have it, Renée signed up too, and we were going to be on the same boat. As we walked back from lunch one day, she squeezed my hand and said, “I hope we can get to know each other much better on this trip.”
I went to Melanie’s house to bring her a portable closet I’d promised which I no longer needed. I knocked, and she peered out the window and said to come in, she’d be out in a minute. The door was unlocked, so I walked in and shut it behind me. No one else was home. The youngest was at his dad’s, and the older kids were at friends’ for the night. Melanie’s husband (not the kids’ father) was gone for the weekend, I think it was on a fishing trip with his brother. Anyway, he had left before she got home from work.
I stood in the living room and waited. After a while I went out and got the first of the closet pieces from my car and put them in the older son’s room. When I walked back in the living room I got an instant erection that hurt ever so bad in my tight jeans. Melanie was standing in front of me wearing just a pair of blue silk thong panties and a sheer light blue blouse top that didn’t close in the front and left nothing to the imagination. No words were exchanged. I just stood there silently with my mouth hanging open.
When our daughter (I’ll call her Cheryl) came home from college for Christmas break, my husband and I meant to take her on a weekend ski trip. We’d pulled out all the stops, even booking a deluxe suite that had its own hot tub!
Well, leave it to my husband to break his leg just before we were supposed to go skiing! When it happened I suggested staying home with him, but he wouldn’t hear of it, saying that Cheryl and I should go and enjoy ourselves. I had to admit I didn’t mind going alone with my daughter. Though we were very close when she was younger, we had grown apart over the years, and I was hoping that the ski trip would be an ideal opportunity to spend some quality time with her.
Cheryl and I hit the slopes as soon as we arrived, and had a great time. On one of the more difficult hills she raced well ahead of me, and when I finally made it to the bottom I found her talking with a trio of young men about her age. They were laughing and having a good time, and I figured that would put an end to our togetherness.