When Charlene suggested that she sodomize me with a strap-on dildo, I was both amused and taken aback. It was not a fantasy I had ever considered.
But this girl did have a definite fantasy, and it was wild. Some months earlier she had been to a bachelorette “cruelty party.” This is a gathering at which girls hire male strippers, but warn them in advance that they will do all kinds of raunchy things to them.
Charlene said she’d had a good time, but she wished she’d had a strap-on. There was one stripper she particularly fancied, and she’d really wanted to fuck him with a harness dildo. I asked her why, and she said it was just for the novelty of it. Something different. But I knew there was more to it than that. I could tell that the idea turned her on because it was wicked, decadent, indecent, and improper.
My wife Katy still gets a lot of attention, in spite of being 51 years old. While she’s not quite as slender as she used to be, she has a large, firm, very voluptuous pair of tits, and an enticing ass that catches the interest of a lot of guys. But until recently I didn’t realize just how much excitement she could still generate.
We were supposed to go to an outdoor party given by some friends of ours, one of those large affairs that most of the neighborhood would attend. However, my stomach started to feel upset at the last minute, and I decided not to go. Katy volunteered to stay home with me, but I wouldn’t hear of it and told her to go and have a good time.
My husband and I were high school sweethearts and married right out of school. After ten years and three kids, our sex life was failing and we didn’t know what to do. I confided in my sister, and she said I should do something that would really turn Neal on. I asked him what he’d really like me to do, and he said he wanted to see me get fucked by another guy. I was speechless, but willing to try anything, so after some thought I said I would do it.
A week later Neal called me around lunchtime and said he would be bringing someone home with him that night after work. Right away I knew what he meant. I was nervous all afternoon, and took a shower and shaved my legs, then put on a sexy evening dress and black thigh-high stockings. I sent the kids to my mother’s house for the night and got everything ready.
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I’ve been through two marriages and enough boyfriends to know that a big cock is nothing special when its owner is clueless about what to do with it. This includes most men I’ve met, who couldn’t bring a woman to orgasm and in most cases knew little about what to do with what they had.
Then I met Conrad.
After a brief acquaintance years earlier, we met recently at a civic event, renewed acquaintance and parted with him inviting me to visit him the next weekend. Although I’m happily married and had no intent or desire to step out on my husband, I was drawn to his place like a moth to a flame. Luckily for me, my husband was taking the kids to his mother’s for the weekend, an eight-hour drive away, while I stayed behind.
I left work early Friday, showered and changed into a new outfit, spritzed some perfume, then headed to the address Conrad gave me. He greeted me at the door by taking me in his arms and giving me a kiss that had me ready to strip right there and perform any sex act he wished. This was so out of character for me that it was like being a third party watching some wanton nymphomaniac in heat!
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When my plane touched down in Dallas, my pussy was still wet from the send-off fuck my husband gave me right before I embarked on my current three-day business trip there. Since I’d had my luggage shipped ahead directly to my hotel, all I had to deal with was my carry-on, and I was quickly out of the terminal and en route downtown.
By the time I checked in and did some unpacking, it was seven o’clock local time and I was starved—not only hadn’t I eaten all day, but my internal clock was a time zone ahead. Though I was still dressed in the jeans and pullover I’d flown in, I felt comfortable going down to the hotel lounge that way to get something to eat.
I’d eaten there frequently, and was disappointed when I didn’t see Rick behind the bar. Instead there was a pretty young lady tending bar. I was about to order a beer and a burger when none other than Rick slipped onto the stool beside me and said, “Well, hello, Mrs. D—, it’s so nice to see you again. I just got off my shift and thought I’d have a beer before going across the street to get something to eat.”
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Naughty and complicated—that’s how I would describe my sex life. Proudly spinning a web of lies and deceptions that eventually rises up to the surface. My pussy is always open and ready for anything.
Life wasn’t always so intriguing. It was rather dull. Just a year ago, I was a devoted military wife, standing behind her man, praying for his safety, hoping for a speedy homecoming—to make up for all the sexless days and nights. I stayed up every night full of turmoil and loneliness. That was, until I found out the dirty truth about my husband.
Ron had come home from his first six-month stint in the Middle East, and being a diligent wife, I unpacked his duffel bags and was mindlessly loading the laundry bags when a shiny material caught my eye. In between a grimy pair of socks, a red pair of silk panties flashed at me. As I unrolled the skimpy G-string, my mind grew suspicious. Either Ron was a panty-stealer, or he was a panty-wearer, or he was screwing the panty-wearer. I brought the moist panties up to my nose and sniffed. Sure enough, it was the scent of a woman. My marine husband was getting serviced in the service. So much for thinking he was hard up!
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Carol and I have been married for over 30 years. After putting up for a long time with a declining sex life, I took over, and I now control our sexual activity.
This started several months ago, after a fight about sex. Carol got tired of my complaining, and finally said, “Okay, fine, you be the boss. Whatever you say goes.” She may have thought I would back down or something, but she was surprised when I took her at her word. And I think she was even more surprised to find that she liked it that way as much as I did.
One thing I took care of right away. My wife loves to clean our house, and I decided this should be entertaining for me. Now when she cleans she wears a pair of five-inch heels, a short silk nightgown and nothing else. If I decide to grab her tits or finger-fuck her she stops what she is doing while I have my fun. Just watching her is great, stopping her is better. And oh yes, she knows she’d better keep my wine glass full at all times.
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It was a cold, rainy Sunday afternoon, and I was reading the sports section of the Sunday paper when my wife put down the issue of Penthouse Letters she was thumbing through and startled the living shit out of me by asking me, “Have you ever fantasized about seeing me having sex with another man?”
I was so stunned that I couldn’t answer.
“Come on, tell the truth,” Deirdre said. Pointing to the magazine, she went on, “It sure seems like a lot of husbands out there want more than anything in the world to watch their wives being fucked by other men—and often by complete strangers. I don’t get it, but I was just wondering, would you like to watch another man enjoy me?”
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My wife Nancy turned 50 two years ago, and she is still a beautiful, sexy woman. She is five feet two, with a very pretty face, brown hair, green eyes, a tight firm ass and a sleek size-two body that she loves to show off in tantalizingly short dresses. She also loves to work out, and it shows.
During the first 30 years of our marriage, we would from time to time explore our sexual fantasies, which often included Nancy having sex with me and another man. She would get very passionate when we had such fantasies, but whenever I would ask her if she would consider actually doing it with someone else, she would always decline.
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I’d just gotten into the shower when my husband came home, and when he discovered where I was he naturally decided to join me. We have a large walk-in shower with numerous heads, and we’ve had some memorable times in there. Although we’ve been married for over 16 years, I wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Stan sporting an erection when he opened the shower stall door.
We’d seen each other only half an hour earlier, at the shop where we both worked, when I’d tracked him down to tell him I was heading home to start getting ready for the wedding reception we were to attend that evening. Finding him up on a catwalk, I climbed up to join him. When I got to him he gave me a kiss and whispered, “Baby, you’ve just given Kevin the thrill of his life.”
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