Alan was the proprietor of a stylish women’s clothing store, and I first met him about 10 years ago, when I was shopping for some new business suits for work. A clerk at a large retail store had suggested that I try going to Alan’s when I was having trouble finding anything I really liked. I was very thankful to that clerk, because it happened that Alan carried a great variety of very stylish woman’s clothing, and was also one of the nicest gentlemen you could ever meet. Consequently I became a steady customer of his, stocking my closet with the most flattering business attire available.
I was in Alan’s store one day when I mentioned that I really wished he stocked evening gowns and cocktail dresses as well, because he carried the best quality clothing in the area. He responded by asking if I had a few minutes to check out some catalogs, saying that he would be happy to special-order some items for me to check out. He added that I wouldn’t be obligated to purchase anything, since he could always return anything he didn’t sell. But he asked that I keep this under my hat, because he didn’t want a swarm of women demanding the same service. I told him it was very generous of him, and he showed me some catalogs, from which I chose a number of items I thought I might like.
A few weeks later Alan called me at my office, asking if I could come in on Sunday, when he was normally closed, to check out the things he had gotten in. We arranged a time, and I told him I would be there.
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Last month, a couple of days before my birthday, my third husband, Bruce, took me to the city about three hours from our home, so I could have two days to shop for whatever I wanted. We checked into one of the better hotels, and had lunch in their dining room before going up to our room. When we got there I was puzzled to discover that mine was the only luggage there.
Bruce then told me that he had some business to take care of over the next two days, so he was leaving me to do my shopping and enjoy the time by myself. I protested, saying I didn’t want to be alone, but he just smiled and told me he was pretty sure I wouldn’t be alone very long. “I know you’ve always enjoyed a variety of lovers,” he said. “And you’ve been restraining yourself during the four years we’ve been married. So my present to you is the opportunity to get yourself laid without me being in the picture.”
I argued that my hormones had settled down by now, and that I didn’t need anyone else—which was not exactly true, as I had secretly strayed once or twice since our marriage. But Bruce was adamant. He kissed me and told me he would be back on my birthday, so we could celebrate it together, and he was out the door before I could protest further.
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My husband’s old friend Travis called a couple of weeks ago to say that he was being shipped out for a year, and would be passing through our town before he left. Naturally Walter, my husband, invited him to come a few days early, so we could party with him before he left, since we hadn’t seen him since our wedding, three years before.
When he showed up, Travis looked even more handsome than when I had last seen him. I had grown quite fond of him while dating Walter, and now when I saw him I just threw myself into his arms for a warm kiss of greeting. There had never been any monkey business between us, but now I felt a distinct erection against my tummy before our kiss ended and I was lowered back to the floor. I shot him a look that said, What the hell was that all about? But he just winked at me, then told Walter that his wife was getting sexier by the day.
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I finished washing my face and brushing my teeth, then went to slip into bed with Stanley, my husband of 14 years. He was lying on his side, facing away from me so I snuggled up behind him, kissing the back of his neck, and whispered, “You better not be sleeping, honey. You’ve got a fire to put out.”
He rolled over into my arms and smiled at me, saying, “I wasn’t aware there was any fire.”
I slipped my hand down to grasp his half-hard cock. “Just feel my pussy, baby,” I told him, and spread my legs as his hand moved up my inner thigh to the wet slippery folds of my cunt. I heard him inhale sharply as his hand cupped my pussy. “Christ,” he whispered. “It feels like melted butter down there. What brought this on, for God’s sake? I haven’t touched you since we made love this morning.”
I put my mouth to his ear and whispered, “Well, someone else has. Lars slipped his hand up under my dress in the car after we left the restaurant, and I let him feel me up all the way back to the house.”
“Holy shit!” Stanley said. “And did you touch him too?”
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I awoke to the greatest sensation possible—the feeling of my erection being pleasured by my wife’s talented lips, mouth and throat. Angie is the queen of blowjobs, having pleasured me orally thousands of times in the course of our 12-year marriage. She knows this is one of my favorite ways to be awakened and often serves me in this manner, especially when I’m about to embark on a trip that will separate us for longer than overnight.
Although I enjoy it immensely when she blows me until I spew my load down her throat, I feel that kind of pleasure should work both ways, so I nearly always try to return the favor before she brings me to climax. So now I reached under her arms to pull her upward and kiss the lips that just moments before had been wrapped around my dripping dick. I rolled her onto her back, then proceeded to lick and kiss my way down, burying my face between her lovely 34C breasts to inhale the sweet delicious scent of her body in the morning.
I moved my lips to each of her swollen nipples, suckling them for a few minutes before working my way lower, over her taut tummy and through her lush growth of soft curly pubic hair to God’s greatest gift to man. I love the rich musky aroma of my wife’s vagina the first thing in the morning, especially if we have enjoyed a lengthy session of lovemaking the previous night, as we had on this occasion.
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When my husband called to say that he’d be coming home early, Gavin had just finished coming inside me for the third time. He immediately panicked, setting a world’s record for getting his clothes on and hightailing it out of there. I took it much more calmly, knowing that Zach, my husband of eight years, would not have been the least jealous or angry on finding me with another man; quite the contrary. In fact, I had no intention of hiding it from him, which is why I didn’t bother to get dressed, or even to clean myself up.
He was not surprised to find me in bed, as I often waited for him there whenever I was horny, which was most of the time. He grinned at me, then quickly shed his clothes and slipped in beside me.
I knew he suspected something as soon as he kissed me. My lips were probably swollen, as I’d been screwing for several hours and had done a lot of kissing. To confirm his suspicions he slowly slid his hand down to cup my pussy, which was like a swamp; hot, wet and slippery. I heard him catch his breath sharply, and I felt his cock spring to life, pressing against my thigh as we kissed again.
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I knew that my buddy Hal had once slipped by my house about five years ago, when he knew I was out of town, to play “hide the weenie” with my wife Louise, so I was curious to see if he would again try to jump her bones on our upcoming hunting trip.
The three of us flew to Denver, then took a commuter plane to a regional airport, where we were met by one of our guides. From there it was a two-hour drive to the rustic lodge that would be our home for the next 14 days. We had paid an outfitter a good deal of money for food, lodging and guide service, so we didn’t have much luggage aside from our guns and our personal gear.
Having been married to Louise for 18 years, I have always found her flirtatious ways both humorous and arousing. I’ve also learned how to detect and recognize any physical attraction or chemistry between my wife and another man. So I didn’t miss the little things that Hal said to Louise during the trip, not to mention the way he checked out her sexy little body. But then she has always turned men’s heads and raised wood wherever she goes. A man has to be pretty damn open-minded to be married to her.
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It was odd to get a letter from my friend Bonnie. Though she lives on the West Coast now, we talk often enough that she never writes. It turned out to be an invitation to a swing party the following month hosted by her and her husband Dennis. She apologized if she was wrong in thinking we might appreciate this lifestyle, but if we were interested in learning more, to call ASAP. She emphasized that no one at the party was expected to do anything they didn’t wish.
I showed the letter to my husband, who said, “Honey, I’m pretty liberal, but this is beyond anything I’ve thought about.” He insisted he had no interest in other women. I admitted I’d always had a yen to attend a swing party, and reminded him that he’s the one who always talked about wanting to watch me with another man. That talk usually led to us having hot sex, and sure enough, after talking about attending Bonnie’s party every night that week, we ended up fucking like bunnies every night!
Eventually Mason said, “Look, there’s no harm in your getting more information from Bonnie.” So I called, and was startled to find out that Bonnie and Dennis had been swinging for five years (and this was the first I was hearing of it?) with a select group—20 couples in all, though usually only about 12 attended any one party. The couple hosting a party was allowed to invite another couple, and Bonnie said that she had always wanted to invite Mason and me.
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My friend Anna and I decided to spend a couple of days in the city shopping while our husbands were out on a fishing charter. I booked us a room in one of the nicer hotels for Friday and Saturday, planning to drive in Friday morning after rush hour died down.
Anna took me by surprise by saying she had booked a separate room because she was bored with her sex life at home and she planned to get laid if an opportunity presented itself. She said she’d been faithful for 16 years but had known for several years that her Larry was screwing around. If it was okay for him, she’d decided, she deserved some excitement too, adding, “I know I can trust you to keep my secret.”
Since I’d had a one-night stand with Larry, I knew she was right about him screwing around. Remembering what a disappointing lover he was (all he cared about was getting it in and getting off), I thought, if she hooks up with the right man, Larry could be in trouble!
We checked in, then went shopping until four. Both of us found bargains as well as some not-so-well-priced stuff we just couldn’t live without. Back at the hotel we agreed to meet in the bar at half past six for cocktails and dinner. I enjoyed a relaxing tub, treating myself to a bit of extra pleasure with my faithful right hand. I hadn’t expected anything sexual to happen this weekend, but now that I’d wound up with a room to myself, I was thinking I might just discreetly check out the meat market myself!
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I had been single awhile when my nephew Woody called to say that he was coming to town and wanted to take me to dinner. Wait, I should probably make clear that he isn’t really my nephew. I’d been married to his uncle for a while, and after that he always called me, and I guess thought of me, as his Aunt Blanche.
It was great to see him, and we had a fine time at dinner—at least from what I remember of it. At that time, I’m embarrassed to say, I had taken to drinking rather freely, and the last thing I recall is excusing myself to the ladies’ room. Then it’s a blank till I woke up in bed with a pounding headache. It didn’t take me long to realize I wasn’t in my bed!
As I tried to figure out where I was, I realized that: (a) Woody was sitting next to me on the bed, and (b) I was naked. (He was fully clothed. My dirty first reaction was disappointment—he’s a good-looking boy.)
I said some version of the word “bathrobe,” and Woody sprang up and returned with what I judged to be a hotel bathrobe. He held it open for me, and I stumbled to my feet and into it, then staggered to the bathroom and back. Luckily, he had some aspirin, which I took. I got back on the bed, and he explained that last night the restaurant manager had informed him that I needed assistance in the rest room, and he’d brought me back to his hotel.
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