I wrote earlier about a quick fling I had with a cute little salesgirl at the tuxedo shop. After getting caught by the owner of the shop in mid-climax, I faced the unwelcome task of going back to see the owner for my final fitting and to pick up the suit.
Walking into the store just before closing, she barely acknowledged me as she helped a wedding party get organized and out the door with their duds. One more client came in after me to return his tux, so she told me to wait in the second dressing room on the right. “You can strip and I’ll get your tux from the back and bring it to your dressing room.” I found the use of the word “strip” a bit intimidating, but sexy. The lights in the front of the store switched off and I assumed she locked up. I heard her walk past the dressing room as I stepped out of my slacks and stood waiting for the moment of truth.
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“How’d you like me to make you come in my mouth?” the male voice on the phone said. I heard a groan, and my wife’s voice, sounding heavy and aroused, saying she would. Then she said she had to go and ended by saying the number two. “Two, right,” the voice said. “Same time, same place.” They said quick good-byes, and the line went dead.
For nearly half a minute I stood there listening to the dial tone, shocked and unable to process what I had heard. I tried to deny that I’d heard it, but the words couldn’t have been clearer.
I had just gotten in the shower when I discovered we had no shampoo in the stall. I tried to raise my wife by calling her name, but she had been about to leave when I got in the shower, so I stepped out, grabbed a towel and made damp footsteps toward the closet in the hall. On the way I noticed the in-service light was blinking on the phone base in the bedroom. I picked up the phone, thinking the downstairs phone had been left off the base. That’s when I heard the voice say, “How’d you like me to make you come in my mouth?” The rest of the conversation you already know.
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I’m a woman in my 60s and have always led a very active sex life. In fact, my first two husbands divorced me for infidelity. My current husband, Ian, is 17 years my junior, and always horny as hell. With a younger and lusty man in my bed every night, I thought I would be content to be a one-man woman for the first time in my life. That is, until Ian’s best friend came to visit us last month.
I liked Dan from the moment I met him. He was a year younger than Ian, and a larger man by far. He was six foot three and about 200 pounds, and was incredibly good-looking. I couldn’t keep myself from checking out the substantial bulge in his snug-fitting jeans and wondering how large his cock was.
I practically jumped my husband when we went to bed the first night Dan was there. He got hard quickly when I went down on him without warning, then simply mounted him as swiftly as I could. My cunt was wetter than usual, and my juices soaked his groin as I quickly brought myself to a gut-wrenching orgasm. He then rolled me over and began fucking me passionately until he exploded, filling me with his spunk.
When he recovered his breath Ian looked into my eyes and asked me what had gotten into me to make me so horny. I answered him honestly, since we had always agreed that there would be no lies between us.
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My husband Paul and I were going out to celebrate our 25th anniversary with another couple at a local club. I had bought a new cocktail dress especially for this night. It was light blue, with a scoop neckline that exposed the upper slopes of my breasts and showed plenty of cleavage. I’d also bought matching light blue lingerie. I only weigh three pounds more than when I did when Paul and I were married, and my figure is still 34C-23-32. When I looked in the mirror after getting ready I decided I looked pretty good—and more importantly, I felt really sexy.
I must confess that I have never been the faithful wife to my husband, and have spread my legs for numerous men over the years. Thankfully, Paul has been a loving and supporting partner, standing by me through my extramarital affairs, and even encouraging me to follow my errant desires, always knowing that my love belonged to him.
Paul whistled when I walked down the stairs, making me feel even better, and only too happy to be going out with this very handsome man. Twenty minutes later we joined our friends, and discovered that they had gotten together with seven other couples to surprise us on our anniversary. What we’d thought would be a quiet evening out quickly turned into quite a party.
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I married my high school sweetheart just weeks after we graduated, and never regretted it for a minute. I could have searched all my life and never have found a man more loving and understanding than Les. I turned 18 eight months before we were married, and I gave up my virginity on the night of my birthday—but not to Les.
It was an older married man who popped my cherry, even though I’d been dating Les for almost two years before that. Kit and his wife were close friends of my parents, and Kit had just happened to stop by to see my dad, who wasn’t home. He found me crying, because my boyfriend’s job had taken him out of town on my birthday. With my parents also away, I was feeling sorry for myself, being left all alone on such an important day.
Kit sat down on the sofa with me and put his arms around me for comfort, assuring me things weren’t as bad as they looked. I’d always felt very close to both Kit and his wife, so I had a sense of security and love in his arms, much as I did when I was with Les. He rubbed my back soothingly until my sobbing stopped, then tipped my head up to kiss me in such a tender, loving way that I felt tremors throughout my body.
When I married my husband Sam I suspected that his best friend David was gay from day one, but I never said anything about it. It wasn’t until two years later that Sam asked me to have a talk with David, to see if I could tell whether he was gay or not. Sam is a pretty good guy in many ways, but he’s not very enlightened. He hated to think that his best friend might be gay, but he was much too embarrassed to talk to him about it himself.
David had always been shy around girls, which was one of the things that had fed our suspicions about him. I had no intention of interfering in his life, but I decided to talk to him because Sam asked me to, so I went over to his place one day when I knew he would be there alone.
David wasn’t very forthcoming about his sexuality, however, and he seemed rather embarrassed by the subject. I was even more sure he was gay—until I passed his bedroom on my way to the bathroom, and noticed some girlie magazines on his bed. They were definitely not gay-oriented. I was looking through one of them to make sure when David’s voice behind me made me jump. Since he had caught me, I told him the total truth as to why I was there, and as I did so I saw his face take on an expression that was a mixture of embarrassment and lust.
At the time this happened I had been cheating on my wife with Karen, a coworker of mine, for over a year. Karen and I had been fast friends since the day we started working together. In addition to being physically attracted to each other, we shared similar interests and a passion for the kind of fun and adventure that neither of us found with our spouses.
At 34, Karen was a beautiful, petite brunette, with small natural breasts and a cute little body. Being eight years older, I have to admit it boosted my ego to have scored such a woman. Karen ultimately divorced her husband, and although I thought about leaving my wife, for several reasons I was never able to commit to it. Karen finally got tired of waiting and we finally split up, but we have remained good friends.
About a year into our affair, Karen and I decided to take a week-long vacation together. We lied to our spouses yet again, telling them we were attending an out-of-town training seminar for work. Actually we were headed for an adults-only resort, with the intention of possibly making new friends and having some new and intriguing sexual adventures.
As it happened, we began making friends even before we arrived. It was at the airport, waiting for our flight, that we happened to become acquainted with two women named Lana and Aiko, who we quickly learned were headed for the same resort. The two of them were very friendly, and it was obvious that they were a lesbian couple. Aiko was especially friendly, and almost seemed to be flirting with Karen. She was of Japanese descent, in her late 20s or early 30s, and perhaps even more petite than Karen. Lana was around 45, tall, curvy and voluptuous. Both women were very attractive, and as I watched the three ladies chatting, I admit that a naughty thought or two entered my mind. I could only hope that the four of us would become even better acquainted when we reached our destination.
My husband Ron and I operate a business together, and I often travel to meet with clients in different cities. This allows me the opportunity to engage in my favorite activity, which most people would call cheating. But it’s not cheating, since Ron and I agreed from the beginning that I would be free to engage in extramarital sex, as long as I told him what I had done, keeping no secrets.
When I found myself stuck in Kansas City one Friday evening, having to wait over the weekend to meet prospective clients on Monday, I decided to get dressed and go down to the lounge instead of sitting in my room all alone. I jumped in the shower to freshen up and closed my eyes as I soaped myself, thinking of the wonderful lovemaking I’d shared with my husband the previous night.
I was kind of tired, and was planning to just have a few drinks and come back up to bed, so I put on some basic underwear and a simple cotton dress. I’d called my husband earlier, and he’d said he hoped my weekend wouldn’t be too boring. I’d told him I could always make something happen if I needed to, and that I might troll for cock on Saturday night, but I wasn’t looking for anything at the moment.
I was trying to finish some boring paperwork when the receptionist buzzed and said that there was a man on the phone identifying himself as “Zach, a childhood friend from Nebraska.” I thought a moment, then said I couldn’t remember any such person and hung up. She buzzed right back and said, “He said he got your number from Clara, your mother.”
I said I’d take the call, figuring I could just hang up if it was some nut. It took a few hints, but I finally realized that this was my “first boyfriend,” so to speak. He was a neighbor’s only child, the same as I was, so we were sort of thrown together in our rural area—until his family moved away when we were about ten. Being raised on farms, we knew how animals reproduced and it didn’t take much exploring to figure out how it works for humans. We never did actually do it, for fear of making a baby and getting into big trouble, but after he moved away I cried myself to sleep many nights thinking I’d lost the love of my life.
We talked for 40 minutes. Zach was married with four kids. I told him I was married but had no children. He said he was going to be in my area in a few weeks with a few days between appointments and would love to see me for lunch if at all possible. I took his office number and said I’d get back to him in a couple of days after checking my schedule.
I thought about talking to my husband about it. Alfie and I have a relationship that’s somewhere between “open marriage” and “don’t ask, don’t tell.” We’re both well aware that we’ve both “strayed,” and we find that it works best if we don’t talk about it too much. In this case, though, I was concerned that since Alfie knew about my ancient history with Zach, if he should find out that I was meeting him, or had met him, he might feel that I was concealing something from him.
My son’s babysitter is an 18-year-old senior in high school, 5-foot-6, thin, curvy, with blue eyes and long golden blonde hair. But she’s not the one this story is about. She’s been our baby sitter for two years, so instead of viewing her as sexy, I still see her as the cute kid who babysits.
Her mom, Alice, on the other hand is a knockout. Same height as her daughter, a tad bit heavier, but with nice curves, fine ass, great looking 36C breasts, short blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Our families are friendly and she has a great personality. One time she jokingly introduced me to her husband as her boyfriend. In front of my wife, I jokingly called her my sugar momma. However our friendship went to a whole new level recently.
Alice had joined my wife Kara and I for lunch one day . We usually greet eachother with hugs and I told her she looked like she could use one today and her hug felt a little closer and a little longer than usual.She was a little upset as she told us about her rough morning and how she can’t stand her new co-worker. Then she dropped a bombshell on us and said “Kara, I feel really guilty about asking this. But would it be possible if I borrowed Gary for an hour or two?”
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