As a hotwife, I’ve had an unfair number of sexual partners and stories to go with them. But, I couldn’t exactly go to work or sit with friends or family and honestly answer the dreaded “What did you do over the weekend?” question when, in reality, I would have to say, “I met a man I talked to on the internet before he took me to his bed and had his way with me,” especially since everyone I knew thought I was still the pure, innocent, Christian housewife. So instead, I’m going to share some of my wildest sex experiences with you, my readers.
We joined the swingers site approximately three months before this encounter with D. When I say “we,” I am referring to myself. My ad stated that I was married but looking for fun with my husband’s full support and knowledge. My husband helped sort through the hundreds of emails and messages to help pick and choose who I would like to meet to see if we clicked, with only a small percentage being worthy of a reply. He was my safety net, always there to make sure I didn’t make impulsive decisions driven by my desire for more sexual partners.
If I may be so bold, I understand when people say “quality over quantity,” but I knew that with quantity, the quality would be there. Besides, I wasn’t looking for a regular boyfriend; I was looking for cock, pure and simple. There, I said it. I was quickly becoming the slut I had always imagined myself to be since I first fantasized about multiple men taking me and using my body for their sexual pleasure. But I never expected to enjoy it this much.
I had been meeting men for sex, and D was my thirteenth sex partner to date. If you do the math, that’s 13 men in three months. If my vanilla friends or family knew that I had intensely and enthusiastically enjoyed sex with 8 men in my very first month of opening the proverbial Pandora’s box, they would surely be shocked and judgmental and most certainly would have shunned me. If they knew that I had had sex with 13 men in just as many beds, they would never speak to me again.
D is a Black man, although this detail is not particularly relevant to me, aside from the common interest many individuals have for interracial sex. And we certainly did have sex, lots of it. D was a firearms instructor, so when we chatted, we decided to go to the shooting range where he could give me a free lesson.
D took a few liberties with me, touching me to move my body or arm angle to ensure I was holding the firearm properly. If anyone saw us, we wouldn’t have looked like he was trying to seduce a married woman into his bed. Little did he know that I had already made my mind up that he would be my next sex partner, but we still had to be safe, and I welcomed the lesson.
Finally, after a productive thirty minutes, he asked. “How about we go to my place, and we can get to know each other better?” Which I readily agreed with. My logical mind was enjoying his knowledge, but my body wanted to jump his bones five minutes in.
My husband checked with me in the car on the way to D’s place to ensure I was comfortable with the situation. I loved how he would make sure I was fully aware of what I was about to do. “You understand that when we walk into his apartment, your body belongs to him,” he said, his eyes searching mine for any sign of hesitation.
“I know,” I told him. “I want it,” I said as I squeezed his hand. Fully aware of what I was about to do, I couldn’t resist the excitement pulsing through my veins, not to mention my clitoris.
When we arrived at his place, my mind was already overwhelmed. I was a married woman who was going to have sex with a man I met only an hour ago and was fully prepared to give my body to him. The weirdest part was that my husband was the one driving me to my illicit activities. My desire to have sex with a stranger intensified with every step I took toward his door. It doesn’t matter what number sex partner he was; every time I met a new guy, my body always felt a surge of sexual hunger as if it were my first encounter. It became an addiction, and the only word I needed help with was “more.”
Inside his apartment, he fixed me a drink before stepping behind to put his arms around me. I was wearing an orange and white skirt with an orange shirt. His lips licked and kissed my neck as he moved up and under my skirt, lifting it to slide his hands over my exposed skin. My husband says I check out when I’m with a man, and this is usually when it happens. I become a puddle of wanton flesh, desperate for a man’s touch. The thrill of the forbidden and the intensity of his embrace consumed me, causing me to lose all sense of reason and self-control.
Kneeling on the floor before me, he lifted my shirt and loosened my bra so he could suckle my painfully erect nipples, which my husband no doubt encouraged him to do prior to our meeting. His hands moved up my legs and thighs before sliding a finger inside of my pussy that was no doubt embarrassingly wet by then.
We moved to the couch, where we continued to make out while his hands memorized every curve of my body. I was so turned on as he removed my shirt, bra, and skirt, leaving only my orange and tan thong, before he instructed me to straddle his fully clothed body. I kissed him fiercely, pressing my bare tits against the palms of his large hands.
“Slide down and dig out what you’ve been wanting all night, girl,” D told me. He guided me downward to my knees in front of him. Eagerly, I reached for his shorts and pulled them open. When I reached my knees, I didn’t even glance at him as he positioned his hips to allow me to pull his shorts downward beyond his prominent bulge. I could feel myself shaking in excitement and was unable to contain my eagerness. I kissed the bulge in his boxers, expressing my desperation as I tried to pull his cock out through the slit in his remaining garment.
Laughing at my awkwardness and how my urgency became uncomfortably obvious, he offered, “Here, let me help you.” He then pulled his shorts down and off of his legs along with his boxers, showing his large black cock. “There you go, sweetheart, it’s all yours,” he told me.
My husband later told me that he chuckled because D had wide-open eyes and mouthed “Dayum” to him, showing D’s excitement at my enthusiasm.
I grabbed his cock and started stroking him. The darkness of his skin against the contrast of my hand made it extremely erotic as I continued. Everything was silent as the head started to leak precum, and wanting to experience everything, I stuck my tongue out to lick him clean. “That’s incredible; would you consider putting that sweet mouth of yours into action?” he asked. “I think those lips would feel incredible wrapped around me,” he said as he cupped my chin in his hands.
I smiled mischievously and replied, “I’d love to.”
My mouth and tongue worked on his cock for several long minutes while he lay back and moaned before he made me pull off. “Damn, Kara. As much as I would love to fill that mouth, I need that pussy wrapped around my dick.”
He removed his shirt as I knelt, and once he was undressed, he walked over to the end of the couch where we had been sitting. “Come over here and bend over; I need to fuck that married pussy.” Doing as I was told, he slid two fingers into me.
“Oh, that feels good,” I told him as I heard the sloshing of my throbbing pussy. He then positioned his cockhead against the cleft of my labia and my clit. Instead of penetrating me, he quickly rubbed the head against my clitoris for several seconds. I had not experienced that sensation previously, and I quickly reached orgasm.
At about that time, he shoved his cock balls deep into me rapidly, making me start to orgasm all over his legs. He did this over and over again, pulling out only to repeat the rapid swiping of my clit before thrusting back in again, making me babble incoherently as he continued to fuck me, hard.
D then withdrew, playfully smacked my ass, and led me to his bedroom. Realizing that I was a squirter, he grabbed a towel to place on the bed so I didn’t soak his sheets. He didn’t waste any time as he simply fell between my legs and entered me in one motion.
“Oh, yes, your cock feels so good inside of me; fuck me,” I begged him.
His staying power was impressive, as he continued to move me into various positions to fuck me in. His favorite, and what would become mine, was the prone bone position, where I was on my stomach while he mounted me from behind and lay on top of me with my ass pushing against his loins as he penetrated me. At last, he moved me onto my back so he could look me in the eyes as he fulfilled his fantasy of soiling a married woman by filling me with his sperm.
“I want to shoot my cum inside your married pussy. Would you like that, Kara? Would you like my cum inside of your pussy?” he said as his thrusts became urgent along with his breathing.
I could tell he was ready, so I quickly told him, “Yes, please, cum deep inside my married pussy, fill me with your cum,” I told him as I held his ass with my hands and pulled him inside of my wet and eager pussy. He started thrusting harder and deeper, giving me exactly what I wanted and so desperately needed.
An instant later, he groaned as he quickly unleashed rope after rope of his precious seed deep inside of my pussy and against my married cervix as my orgasm racked my body from head to toe. The sensation of his warm release mixing with my fluids drove me into a state of pure bliss, my body trembling with pleasure as he continued thrusting, causing the walls of my vagina to throb uncontrollably around his shaft.
Eventually his movements slowed but didn’t stop for several quiet moments as he regained his composure. The sperm soaked into the crevices of my most intimate area, lubricating every inch of my vaginal walls. When his fading manhood ultimately slid from the pulsating depths of my pussy, I could feel the warm, viscous mixture of our fluids trickling out of me and onto the wet towel below.
“Holy fuck, that’s some good white pussy.” He then looked at my husband and told him, “You, my new favorite friend, are a lucky man.”
Exhausted from his exertion, D rolled away from me. He then opened his arms in invitation, and we lay together as if we were a couple. “You’re an incredible woman. I hope you let me do that again. A man could become lost between those legs if you let him,” he said as he rubbed the separation of my ass with his hands and played with my petite breasts.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, taking a deep breath. “That was fun,” I told him in response. “I’ll definitely be wanting this inside of me again,” I told him as I played with his nearly soft cock.
D and my husband, who had been fascinated as he watched his wife being defiled by a near stranger, conversed for several minutes while we rested.
“Keep this one; she’s special,” D told my husband. “She seems far too innocent to be lying naked in my bed with my load so deep inside of her,” he said as he moved down to separate my labia so he could see his sperm escaping from my insides.
“Her wedding ring is a nice touch,” D told him as if I were in the other room. “I was watching it while I fucked your wife. I usually can last longer, but that ring made me bust too soon,” he remarked as he took my hand and looked at my ring. I had been casually stroking his cock, which was beginning to regain some of its rigidity. He then positioned himself next to me so he could make out with me some more before leaning over to nibble my sensitive nipples, making me moan. A shiver ran down my spine as he continued to kiss my body, leaving small hickies to leave his mark so I would remember him the next few days. As my excitement grew, so did his erection.
Knowing that our night wasn’t over, I leaned down to take his hard cock back into my mouth, tasting my nectar that lingered on his skin. While I sucked him, he told me, “I can honestly say I’ve never fucked a Sunday school teacher before.” He then maneuvered me so I was straddling him and so I could lower myself onto his manhood. “I want you to fuck me this time, Kara. I’ve fucked a married woman; now I want her to fuck me,” he told me.
Smiling, I took his cock into my hands and slowly impaled myself onto his manhood as I looked deeply into his eyes. My hands were on his chest as I rotated my pussy onto him and moved back and forth, bringing moans from his lips. He whispered as he played with my nipples, “Your pussy feels so good.” After several minutes of enjoying my ride, he grabbed my petite body and flipped me onto my back, continuing to thrust inside of me.
He fucked me for quite a while, moving himself to hit different spots inside of me while we made out hard with open-mouth kisses and tongues. He would bring my legs up around him and then change. I didn’t realize there were so many variations to missionary. After time went on, he finally spoke: “I’m going to give you another load, Kara. Would your married pussy like that?” he asked.
“Oh, god yes, please give it to me; I want more of your cum in my pussy.” My voice quivered as I begged. I was on the verge of losing my mind as my body tingled with anticipation as he thrust deeper and harder, the tip of his penis gliding along the moist, velvety folds of my inner walls. The intensity was enormous, and I couldn’t wait for him to fill me yet again.
“Fuck, married pussy is my favorite,” he mumbled as he placed his hands under my ass to grasp me as his thrusts became quicker, longer, and more aggressive, making my pussy clench through more, highly verbal orgasms. After a few more minutes of being lost in the pleasure, his breathing quickened and his thrusts became more demanding. Suddenly, he pulled his hands from below my ass, raised up onto his arms, and wailed.
“Fuck! Take it, Kara!” I felt his body explode inside of me, sending millions more of his seed into the depths of my womb. Instead of slowing, his thrusts became even more intense as his body shuddered with release. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the neighbors could hear his hips slapping against mine.
Finally, when he had thoroughly drenched my cervix with his seed, he collapsed on top of me. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his heart pounding against my chest as we both tried to catch our breath. The room was filled with the sound of our heavy breathing and the lingering scent of our passion.
We kissed a few more times before he pulled out, leaving me feeling empty. Even though my craving for his touch was still there, I knew I needed to be in my husband’s arms again soon.
When we had separated and finally dressed, D and my husband spoke as if they were old friends saying goodbye. “You be sure to bring her back; I would love for her to spend the night once, just to have her for my own for as many times as I could manage in one night. I’m curious if I can wear her out.”
On the way home, I could feel my panties getting wetter with the remnants of D’s two plentiful orgasms, which continued to seep from my depths. By the time my husband reclaimed me that night, a spark had ignited, and I contemplated that next time, I may consider packing an overnight bag, just in case.
