I give a loud chuckle, as I begin to write. It’s been…what? At least a year that I’ve gone straight. Cold turkey. One solid year with one sex partner. I’m sorry, but about to find a bridge and jump! Are we humans, according to the law of the land, supposedly have just one sex partner???? Seriously! What monk created the word monogamous. Surely his ink well ran dry, his quill unable to script it’s true meaning. Along come the old senior monk, penis dried up but ink well full, his quill adds “sex”. I think the Europeans got it right. As did the Asians. Consorts, cortisanes, paramours, are what keeps them separate from Americans puritanical mind-sets. Ménage trois, polygamous, not necessarily polygamy, have success when entered into with a strong consensus and openness. Sharing your prowess can be liberating.
I’m not wired to having the same kind of intercourse when he’s in the mood. Two men or a man and a woman adds so much dynamic complexity that is so simple and basic. If man were meant to be one horse riders, strip joints, private sex clubs, prostitution, Ashley Madison, online sites geared to couple sharing would be dormant to the sounds of crickets. If you’ve read my earlier blogs, my favorites are private, by invite only, social gatherings hosted by couples and some individuals at their residences. I met my current, monogamous partner at such an event. It was love at first site, but he’s not into sharing thus we’re in the “where do we go from here” mode.
I admit to my error. I thought I’d found the perfect mate. My like-minded guy, or so I was led to believe, who I was willing to spend the rest of my life with. I was distracted by the lifestyle: new expensive European sports car, the ring the size of Mt St Helene, private jet, locations…but the sex is ho-hum. I’ve shown him some of the hottest women (okay the other guy thing I get-not wanting to share) in the US, France, Thailand, Scandinavia…nothing! My thing with this is; you found this kitty at a couples swap party and now you want to deprive the kitty of it’s milk. I’m not a happy kitty in the bedroom. I want us to share our tenacity for love and engage in happy healthy cunnilingus, fellatio, ménage a trois…
I’m back to my blog. Not a good sign. I solemnly do swear I am of sound mind & (matured) body. I want to feel a woman’s lips on mine.
It’s been a sometimes fun but often grueling experience. I’m happy it’s over and hope not to travel this road ever again.
To my editors; You will have to provide me with a much larger incentive if you ever want this kind of information again. I took many showers during these past several weeks and drank my share of vino just to get through it.
For the love of what the fuck! Six months ago I agreed to enter into the world of online dating for the second time. It’s a jungle out there, a girl has to be smart and willing to take on another life, especially if it’s all fake for information purposes. The facts aren’t often pretty and these are no exception. I’ll randomly go through the last six months of the revolving door of men and women. Some info will be limited due to copy-rights and my editors blowing up regarding my blogging on the subject. It’s enough to share, enough to…well just read on-in no particular order.
I’ll begin with Ken (btw all names are fiction-yes they gave me actual names, phone numbers and much more)…Ken, the Scorpio, introverted, former NAVY, works as civil employee, lived in a moderate neighborhood, divorced, one child-freshmen year in college. He liked to cook and it showed. Not very outdoorsy and it showed. Spent his weekends watching old movies that he’d seen a few times, liked to play board games. He came off as gruff, not a very happy person who wanted to get laid but didn’t want to put in the effort to accomplish this. He wanted to exchange sexy emails with me doing all the sex talk. When I called him out on meeting, after a few weeks of pulling sexy talk from him, he gave me the story that he’d had a bad experience and was hesitant about meeting. At which point he asked for more photos. Seriously? I’ve sent you 3 and now you want more? Oh and if I could send a nude one he’d like that.
A shower and a bottle of wine cleansed me from this lazy jerk, who I suspect was jerking off to the photos and the emails. He was cut off…spam.
Meanwhile, back at rancho online creep-o! There was grandpa, the Leo. He had no online photo, came off like this sweet, subservient guy who only wanted to please. It was “dear” this “dear” that and whatever pleases you dear, oh I’m sorry dear, was I being, too forward dear, whatever you say dear…I’m suck a dumbass dear, I should have known better, I hope I haven’t blown it with you. This was Don. Supposedly a professional guy with an office, married but not getting any-had not had any in a very long time. He begged for a photo for about 10 days, when he finally got the message that I wasn’t sending jack shit until I got one from him, he sends a photo of him sitting in a lawn chair with a 6-year-old on his lap (his grandson). WTF! What kind of man sends a prospective piece of ass a photo of his grandchild? Was this for browny points? Or was it to cover the belly and the dick-dew? He begged for my phone number so he could text. Okay, here you go, here’s my burner. And then it was a constant barrage of sexting all day through early evening then a pause and would start-up again around 10 and last until midnight. The pause was when he was home and the wifey-poo was up, but as soon as she’d gone to bed he’d start again. I finally laid down the law, the day I was in some very important meetings and had to turn my phone off because he was sexting every 30 minutes. The day I met him, he almost stained his trousers. He even wanted some PDA, that I squashed!! Seriously? You think I’m going to make out with you right here in the middle of a parking lot? And please don’t follow me, I’m not, too keen on you seeing what I drive…to which I walked him to his car, saw him off before heading to the steps to my vehicle 2 levels above (where I parked purposefully).
Don’s admission that his big office was actually a suite in a not so nice part of town, having just purchased a new sofa for his “office”, wanted me to stop by his new office…WAIT! NEW OFFICE? So, this location you’ve just moved in to? And your assistant is actually your wife, who works there on the weekends? Oh, I see! The only time you can get away is during the day? Evenings are tough to get out, but if I don’t want to have sexy time in his “office” we can go to his house, his wife is a ride share, once she leaves for work (25 plus mile away) she’s gone for the day. NO. NO thanks. No not going to your wife’s house to have sex with you!
Meanwhile. The college professor who was actually an instructor, he and the wife enjoyed playtime a few of the local clubs that hosted gatherings for couples swapping. They sent numerous photos of her in flimsy lingerie. He was contact person, never heard from her and all he wanted to tell me about was what he had. Hmmmm! No thanks! When I asked him about his wife, if she and I could exchange communications, I was promptly told that he did the talking for both of them. Okay…
Then there was Greg. Older fella. Said he was a retired consultant. Sent me two photos that were either several years old or they were photo-shopped from a magazine. In one he’s wearing a tux holding a highball glass, not looking into the camera, the other the man is wearing a very nice custom grey suit standing in front of a grey Porsche that has a Delta emblem on it…which is on the tarmac. When I saw this photo I took another look at the first one…something wasn’t fitting, just looked, too perfect. I called him out on the photos but not to my surprise did he acknowledge or deny-completely ignore my query. And again, he could only get away during the day, he worked from home, when he wasn’t traveling of course, nights and weekends were tough to get away. I set a meet, waited until the morning of and gave him an out. He jumped on it and has later asked if we could really get together? His take was meet during the day, have wine and then sex. Ha, ha, ha, ha!!! LMAO! I questioned him; So, you can’t get out at night or weekends, you travel to all these places, stay in these 5 star hotels, yet you want me to meet you during the day, drink wine – have sex…and it’s okay for you to go home reeking of wine and stale pussy? He didn’t respond to that query either. I concluded that Greg was lying and probably retired, bored sitting home watch game shows and cop repeats.
The one thing they all had in common. Once I mentioned I like giving head, they were all in! Would do whatever it took to get me in a room, an office, a car, behind a bar…I guess older guys or any guy for that matter doesn’t get much head from the wifey-poo! I don’t get that. Why women don’t give their husbands head!!!
And lastly. I mentioned several weeks ago that there was one guy who was slicker than grease. I came off like the discard women, who’d been wronged. Well, actually no, I wasn’t. This guy, was a smartass, or at least he thought he was. Sent photos that I, once suspect were old photos and he was much older than he claimed. It was something he responded to that brought this to light and from that it was decided that I would take this route. In his arrogance, he admitted to knowing my identity, my blog, my overseas column. He’d taken the time to “look me up” in a detailed way. He’s also, my opinion somewhat of a racist and I don’t use that word often or lightly. He, as we suspected could have been dangerous and we decided to do something about it. A dual online profile, using a photo from a shoot that we had permission to use and dangled the cord by putting in all the key words that would get his attention. POP! He did, as he followed the same pattern of photos that he’d sent me originally and asking for my number to text. I took on an entirely different persona and he bought it. He wanted to meet, was coming to town (we suspect he lived in town), dinner (it always had to be at a nice place), I told what I would be wearing, he told me what he’d be wearing. WE went sat in the parking lot and sure enough there he was…just as I had suspected! Of course Morgan didn’t show. He texted many times, even wondered if she was okay. His final text was sad, regretful and he sent an empty email to see if the email was still there. The profile on the site was remove 15 minutes prior to the meeting time. Karma is a bitch Bugsy. Fire hot! Burn!
Most men on sites want a little excitement in their lives. I get that. Most of the married women on the sites are seeking the same. Gents, if she’s not your cup of tea, move the fuck on…there are, too many women in the fish bowl to play games. Wives, give your man a blow job! You don’t have to swallow!
I stumbled upon an unexpected activity. It’s nothing new, it’s well-known, pretty much common knowledge, but the under tow was quite the surprise.
The everyday massage parlor in the family’s strip malls is often a cover for “HE“. Some states are so regulated that these parlors have to literally go back room. However, to the enterprising owner(s), there are ways to present a legitimate massage business and give the discriminating customer what they want. To my surprise, they aren’t seedy looking locations with the sixties style beads covering the entry to a long narrow hall with lined with rooms whose doors are covered with burlap curtains. These places, for the most part, have pleasantly furnished waiting areas, an intelligent receptionist, open spaced walkways leading to rooms with ornamental doors. The massage rooms are clean and very well-appointed, with ample linen, that has not been occupied by a previous client. Hot stones, cold stones, micro wave for hot towels and chilled bottled water.
Once in side, you’re left to change, climb on the table (which by the way is automated for height adjustment). Your masseuse enters, washes her/his hands, rubs them in oil, pulls the sheet back, tucking ever so slightly around your bum and begins to palpate your back, shoulders and arms. As you begin to relax, your masseuse travels closer to your bum cheeks, firm precision slowly moves the cover and your masseuse is kneading your thighs and onto your calves. You are so relaxed! You’re brought ever so slightly out of your dreamy trance when your masseuse holds the sheet and asks you to turn over onto your back. Once you’ve settled the sheet is draped across your body covering your breast and pubic area…
This is where it gets interesting, when it’s a female masseuse and a male client. Paying extra for a “HE” is mentioned discretely and depending upon the client’s response, the masseuse keeps the sheet covering the penis or it is pushed to the side and her attention is on his penis and scrotum. Seriously, I couldn’t be a good masseuse to give “HE”. I get, too worked up when I’m stroking a man’s cock that grows and flourish under my attention. I’d have to give him a CBJ for his “HE” and masturbate while I’m doing it. Men most often than not go for the CBJ. BBBJs are rare in these places, with some men enjoy having their nipples pinched, while reaching their “HE”. Most often it’s a hand job, always a moist warm towel after.
Word of mouth via a dedicated site for these places are given ratings and the talents of the masseuse are ranted, raved about, or complained. Terms such as I’ve used here are prevalent and the site is set up by city or general area, making it easy to navigate and men to find a place to get their “HE” on a lunch break. I truly admire that about men. Taking off in the middle of day to have an orgasm on your lunch break.
Which is why, when I was told that there were men at key locations who would happily give a massage with a “HE”, I had to try it out…in the middle of the fucking day!! OMG! A wham, bam, back kneading, relax yourself and cum! No conversation, no kissie-kissie…grab your breast while he’s rubbing your clit, stroking your cunt…A warm, moist towel after and off to Starbuck’s drive-thru for my triple grande, non fat, cappuccino…
Guys if you’re interested in the name of the site…I’m all about sharing “HE”!
Thanks for being a loyal reader. Addie firstname.lastname@example.org
What happens to a man when he looses all lust? Historically men are the most sexual of the two. Gay men are known for their lust and ability to “allow” extra-martial affairs, open relationships, one nite out with a fling. Women, on the other hand, aren’t as pragmatic…most women. There are some who allow, and I use that word loosely, their husbands to engage in sexual intercourse with another woman, while she’s in the room and watching. Very rarely does the woman want to experience the “open” wife swap lifestyle. It’s generally the man who cautiously approaches the subject of this happy, go lucky life. He’s the one who finds the places, sets it up and coasts her ever so gentle into watching another woman give him a blow job, or him in foreplay. This is the behavior we, society, has become accustomed to. We readily accept this. It is not, however, what society wants from a woman!
Most women are afraid to tell their husbands they’d like to enjoy the swapping lifestyle. They are fearful of being judged, being rejected and scorned by their husbands. Let’s face it, if more women felt free to exhibit their inner sexuality, the rate of divorce would drop and prostitutes would be in less demand. Being sexual, being a woman is a dirty word. Men want their wives to give them blow jobs, have annal sex and in general make them feel manly. Sex makes men feel accomplished, feel like manly men. They have high sex drives and enjoy feeling their cocks getting hard. A horny man will masturbate, before he goes out for the evening, simply to take the edge off. A woman or wife on the other hand, wouldn’t think of masturbating before she left the house in order to enjoy the upcoming nite’s events a little more and definitely a little longer. Masturbation in general, for women is infrequent. It’s sex with emotional attachment or nothing at all.
Whereas, if women masturbated more, they are less likely to want emotional attached sex. Women who masturbate freely, at will, with creativity are more prone to have sex, for the sake of having sexual intercourse, as a natural part of being a woman. There are some they masturbate freely with and for their husbands. For the most part, married women who masturbate do so when they are alone and he has no idea that his wife enjoys pleasing herself, regularly. These women are not what society would call good wives, she’s not saving it for him. Which brings me to the man who has lost his lust.
There are husbands who have not had sex with their wives in years! These men may have physical ailments that don’t allow them to enjoy what men like to do. Often wives of these men are their caregivers and life has just bogged them down with doctor’s visits, medications and the inability to connect on a sexual level. Age, for men, can also be a contributing factor. He’s lost his zest! She’s never had that much interest in being sexual, performed it as a duty and now that he’s comfortable to snore the night away in his leather loungers, she happy to have the bed to herself for most of the night. But. What happens to the woman who was afraid to tell him she wanted them to add zing to their sex life, adding a nite of swinging, or a visit to a sex club? She had the missionary sex for 20 years, or more, he’s lost his manly man and has put sex on the back burner. Which as it turns out was a couple of years ago when he had missionary sex with his wife. She’s still wanting sex! She’s got a secret stash in her panty drawer of dildos that vibrate and maybe even a butt plug, nibble clamps, essential oils…How does she tell her lackluster husband she’s horny for some wild sex? She fantasizes about being fuck by a man while she sucks her husband’s cock? The kids are gone, empty nesters and all he does is watch Netflix! She’s surfed the sites and she knows there’s a vast world of sexual fun and no way to get to it, unless she goes it alone.
Gentlemen, are you taking care of business? If you’ve lost your lust for sex are you depriving your wife of a life she deserves? There are just as many women on the Ashley Madison site as there are men. And if you’re not able to get is up, cunnilingus is the way to go! Get creative! Put the Netflix on pause, make your own movie, with that horny wife in the next room.
Lust is not lost, it’s there, you have to want it!
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I attended a Fourth of July pool party, with an old friend, who didn’t want to go stag and didn’t want to be tied an actual date all night. The house was gated, valet parking and by invitation only. So, I went as a plus one. I didn’t expect to see anyone I knew, since my friend and I run in different circles. He’s mostly local. I like to travel for my fun, so this was going to be something new and certainly out of my box, so to speak.
My first clue as we entered the custom stoned, circular driveway, were the greeters at the massive double teak front door entrance. Two women dressed in very tiny bikinis, just enough material to cover their areole and even smaller strips covering their hairless pubic area. Brazilian wax job came to mind. My nipples began to harden like a horny man’s penis would watching a those tight hairless pussies masturbating. The two guys who were standing on each side of the bare ass ladies offered my friend and I a choice of champagne, apple martinis or something stronger. We both selected sizzling tall glasses of champagne and entered the house.
Inside were more scantily clad ladies and the guys inside were shirtless, with very tight slacks that left nothing to the imagination. One of the shirtless guys guided us through the living areas of the house to the backyard and the massive pool and the to die for view of the river with the bridge in the far background that allowed boat passage to the bay. The music was electric but not overly loud, allowing low-toned conversations and waffles of laughter. It was, as I said, an unknown crowd, to me. But from what I saw at first glance, had great promise of being a fun night. Brad and I found a tall table in the corner of the yard, closet to the dock. I hung my purse and my wrap from a hook under the table, reveling my halter bikini top and the low dip of my sarong showing my naval and the tiny tattoo at my bikini line.
A couple of hours into the evening the music transitioned into a French themed that gave you a swaying motion. The conversations slowly became more moans and groans. A few were in the pool, a man and a women kissing, here top at her neckline, another couple sitting on the steps to the water, her top in his hand, her hand in her bottom masturbating. At the other end were two gentlemen sitting on the edge of the pool with their feet in the water and a tall bronzed woman taking turns sucking on their cocks that were bobbling for attention when she was sucking on the other. Brad had found an older woman who was fascinated with hefty endowment. I walked over and gave him a wet full tongue kiss as he pinched my already hard nipples. His invite to join him and his new friend was tempting, but I had my eye a gentleman who was watching the couple on the chase lounge, engaged in 6-9 foreplay. His cock was staining against his swim trunks, I walked up behind him, slid his very hard cock through the leg opening and began to masturbate it. His knees became a little weak, I was stroking him to the rhythm of the music, pressing my breast and lower body against his and butt. With my free hand I began to fondle his nipple that got harder than mine. The couple on the chase lounge had changed positions-he was standing over her with his cock moving in and out of her mouth, they were completely naked. The gentleman I was stroking inched forward, kneeled down,with my hand still stroking him, he put his index and middle finger into her pussy and stroked her with the same rhythm as I stroked him. I was leaning over him, butt fully exposed. I felt my sarong drop to the ground, my bikini pulled to one side and small fingers enter my wet pussy. I rode her fingers to rhythm while I stroked the hard cock in my hand, larger hands began to tug and pinch my nipples, I quietly climaxed knowing I would cum again. When my pussy juice began to flow, I heard the woman who was finger fucking me moan with pleasure-let that cock go, I want to suck on your sweet pussy. I let the cock go, turned around to find the tall bronze woman licking her lips and smiling, the two guys she had been blowing, one was fingering her and the other was playing with my nipples. We moved to another chase, l lay on my back, she kneeled with her butt in the air and began to insert her very long and talented tongue into my wet pussy. One guy spanked her ass, kissed her ass and stuck his tongue into her pussy, she moaned with each motion. The other leaned over sucked my nipples giving me French kisses in my naval. I grabbed his throbbing cock and began to masturbate him and quickly pulled him into my mouth with him straddling the chase and fucking my mouth like a pussy.
Sucking cock makes me want to cum. I licked his head and inserted his cock deep into my throat, he moaned with delight. Just as he was about to cum I started stroking him with my hand. The other guy was still spanking the woman who was fucking my pussy with her tongue. When the cock I was stroking began to stream his precum juice the woman moved up, took him in her mouth sucking him to orgasm while she and I straddled each other with our pussy’s on each others thigh grinding our pussy’s to climax while the other guy and two more gentlemen watching stroked themselves to organism.
After a shirtless waiter gave me a warm cloth and dry towel. I found my date, who about to fuck the older woman, but I wanted his cock. I grabbed another champagne walked over to them, stuck my fingers in her pussy, between her very large labia. I sucked on her nipples and lightly bite them, making them hard, she moaned. I whispered in her ear, I want to lick your pussy lips, lick your clitoris while my friend fuck me. She moaned breathlessly, yes. I had her sit over my face, facing Brad, who inserted his cock into my wet pussy. He kissed her and sucked her nipples while I flicked my tongue over her clit, licking her clean-shaven pussy lips. I inserted three fingers into her hot wet pussy while I sucked her clit, Brad fucked me. She climaxed got off my face, I turned over so Brad could fuck me doggy style.
The partner swapping went on for a couple hours…it was a great Fourth of July pool party. Not bad for a local gathering.
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Affirmative Spirit transcends to everything carnal.
I began this blog a few years ago because I wanted to bring openness to carnal knowledge. I got away from it, not sure how or why, and found myself entangled in the adult world of online dating and affairs of married men and women. I’ll certain continue to bring those things to light, to talk about married men who are prone to “serial affairs” versus those who seek the comfort of a woman’s body. Forget the reasons. Men are prone to have sex and to have it often. Which is why gay men are more likely to have “open relationships”. And I kinda have to agree. Are we as human beings with all this brain power meant to be with one person? I have nothing against marriage. I think it’s great for those who crave it, want it, need it. But why is it so imperative that one man dedicate his sexual needs and desires to one woman? And why is a woman considered a whore, a slut, a low-life bitch if she has a desire to be sexual with more than one man? To engage with someone other than her matrimonial spouse? It’s even sadder that society frowns upon the husband & wife that engages in swapping! For pete’s sake, they’re consenting adults, betrothed in wed “lock” if they want to spice up their sex life with swapping, why the hell not? What is wrong with that? Yet, if he tips out by himself he’s label a cheater! If she’s licked to carnal bliss by another woman or fucked by another man, she’s labeled!
Some men actually derive sensual pleasure watching their wives being pounded by another man. They also like to watch another woman lick her clitoris, pinch her nipples, kiss her with lots of tongue. These are normal everyday people with mortgages, careers, children and some with grandchildren. It is a turn on for both to watch another man insert his cock into the wife’s pussy, lick her pussy close to orgasm and the husband takes over. Or another man to finger fuck her while she sucks his cock. And in some instances, the wife taking both men, one in the pussy the other in the mouth and some others (women) like to be fucked in the ass while she’s sucking a hard cock.
I have found them to be very stable individuals. Mature individuals who know what they desire and enjoy being sexual. I for one would rather have sex with a man while his wife watches than have a clandestine affair with a married man who is stealing time for sex. Some may say that’s thrilling, but I say having a wife watch me make her husband’s cock hard with my blow job skills makes me horny and wet. Granted there are some women who’d rather watch and not engage with another woman-the shy type. Once I get in to stroking his hard cock with my mouth, as he moans with pleasure, she’s likely to finger herself because she’s wet from watching me pump the clear pre cum juice from the tip of his throbbing cock. Some wives have dildos, some will want to sit on his face and watch as I bring him to full orgasm. In those cases when he cums, she will cum his face and watch him lick me to full orgasm. And if she’s not shy, it’s a full on threesome, she’s licking me while I suck her husband’s cock or I’m licking her while she sucks…He’s fucking me while she sit’s on my face. Or on occasion, I’m being fucked in the ass while she fingers my pussy and I’m sucking on her tits. Who says being a third wheel is a bad thing??
All normal stuff, that humans enjoy doing for carnal pleasure.
I’m meeting a new couple, I plan to blog about our journey. I’ll get back to the Ashley Madison sagas when the new couple has filled their carnal cup.
Comments are most welcomed. Questions are always welcomed! You may comment or ask a question here OR you may email me email@example.com
And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ~ Anaïs Nin
CHAPTER TWO – Lucy
It is an authors prerogative to make literary changes as they create words of interest on a blank sheet of paper. Lucy was originally to be chapter 3, but her story was so compelling, I couldn’t wait to share it. She sent me several emails chronicling her journey through the sites and the hungry men on Ashley Madison. I also felt a kindred with Lucy, a fellow lover of tennis.
A successful real estate broker. Educated. Philanthropic. Enjoying the fruits of her success with an upscale lifestyle, her marriage had taken a serious turn to oblivion when her husband was diagnosed with MS. First came separate bedrooms. Then came long intervals of sex to no sex for several years.
She was on AM long before the publicity hit the media. It was during the scandalous blitz that she met Joe, the social studies teacher, from NY state, a Brazilian , in her southern town. He was quite insistent, wanting her cell number to text. He wasn’t interested in a cool period of getting to know each other via email. She held him off while she got to know a couple other guys who’d shown interest. Joe was much younger, but he didn’t know that. Brenda lied about her age, by 10 years. He thought she was 4 years older.
When the other 2 older guys became boring, she finally agreed to meet him at a Starbucks. He was handsome, he was a complete gentleman and she could see the stars in his eyes for her. They chatted for a couple of hours, she finally gave him her cell, left him there and headed home.
She heard from him every morning; a hello, or good morning accompanied with kisses emoji. Afternoons sent text of missing her smile, her eyes, accompanied with kisses emojis. Early evenings were the more of the same and nights after 9:30 were longer text with confessions of wanting, needing and more kisses emojis. This went on for over a week. Lucy was departing with a group of friends to the US Open, staying for the semis and championship matches. The text continued and doubled in its frequency. It was cute, she thought, but were becoming annoying. She would check them now and then, but he began calling when she didn’t promptly respond to his text. She muted his number, responding when it was convenient by text only.
When she returned after Labor Day, he insisted he wanted to pick her up from the airport and drive her home, by pretending to be a her Lyft driver. She refuted his offers and let his repeated calls go to voice mail. A few day went by and among the many text was an offer to take her dinner that weekend, his treat. She agreed to meet him at a place that was far from her home, after an event she was attending.
It had been 4 years since she’d had sexual contact with a man. As her event ended that warm breezy late Saturday afternoon, she sat in her car deciding if she’d drive home or meet this youngster for dinner. He texted. He wanted to change the restaurant which just happened to be closer to where she was. She agreed and headed to the place. He was there when she arrived, jumped into her car as she pulled up and wanted her to park away from the entrance. She parked half way from the door, he baulked but that didn’t stop him from leaning our the console of her car to kiss her. It was awkward and awful. Hard and full of teeth pressing against her mouth. There was nothing sensual about it.
After dinner, he wanted her to go in his car with him, she compromised and followed him to an old army fort, historical park with ammunition bunkers, open fields, benches and forest areas. They walked the paths, found a bench, sat and kissed. The hard kissing was his thing, surmised. While he was kissing deep and hard he slid his hand up her dress and played with her now very wet pussy. She could feel the heat in her belly, she wanted to cum, his fingers were moving around her clit causing her squirm. He pushed two fingers into her very wet pussy. She uncontrollably moaned as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. She’d forgotten about the hard kissing, she didn’t really care at this point, her pussy was wet, her nipples were hard as rocks and her clit was throbbing wanting to orgasm. Just as she was about to cum, he pulled out and stuck his wet fingers into her mouth. She was so turned on at this point, she sucked his fingers as he thrust them in and out of her mouth. He took her hand and laid it on his hard cock, bulging through his trousers.
They got up and began walking toward a bunker. These bunker had recessed openings that lead to the doors that were bricked shut. As soon as they were out of sight in the opening, he rammed his fingers in her pussy, bent over and grabbed her nipple with his teeth. She unbuttoned the top of her dress freed her hard nipple from her bra cup, as he bit and sucked her breast, making her wetter. She was at a point of no return. She wanted a cock in her pussy. She unzipped his trousers, cupped his hard cock and began stoking it like it was in her pussy. The clear cum juice was dripping from his cock…she opened the foiled pack, slid it his cock and licked his now sieved cock head. She turned her back to him, pulled her dress over her ass, opening her legs, she took him into her dripping wet pussy. It felt so good, having him pump her, bounce her, go deep into her. She felt a tinge of pain, but it made her want to cum, she wanted to hold off, make it last longer, but he was about to cum so they orgasm together. She felt liberated! She felt like a woman again. She felt like her old self in an instance.
She put herself back together as best she could. He went in for another hard kiss. She moved away to fix her bra and button her dress. She had finally had a cock and she was satisfied. She made an excuse, it was later than she thought and she needed to head home to feed the dog. She thanked him for dinner. Kissed him on the cheek and began walking back into breeze away from the cover of the bunker’s entrance. As they approached her car a family pulled into the parking lot. Thankful for their arrival, she popped into her car, thanked him again for dinner and lovely evening. Before she could leave the park her phone chimed an incoming text. A line of kisses emojis and words saying he’d text her later tonight.
Once home she took a long hot shower, remembering how it felt to have a cock in pussy. It still throbbed, her clit throbbed and her nipples were a happy sore. Climbing into bed, she blocked his number, went to the AM site blocked his profile, SPAMMED his email address and slept like a baby. She deleted his name and number several months later and now she masturbates remembering that evening of hot sex with a stranger she’d meet on AM. She was happy with her bite of the apple…
Next up Part Three…
Thanks for joining me, I hope you enjoyed our time together. Addie
The first thing she noticed, when he walked through the door of the quaint cafe, was his ears. They sat far from his head, Dumbo sized. And that military style haircut didn’t make them any less notable. His face was clean shaven, unlike the photo he’d used on his profile. At second glance, she was beginning to think it was an older photo. Not a recent one like she was using no the site….
Being in her early fifties and feeling like the world was at it’s end for her, t she would have to settle for getting older and not having the sex appeal she once felt just a couple of years ago. Her husband of twenty years had had an affair with his paralegal for almost a year. It was horrifying enough to find out that your husband hadn’t lost interest in sex, he’d just lost interest in her. The ultimate horror was finding out about it at the firms holiday gala, a formal, fancy to do at one of the city’s top rated hotels. Cocktails,four course dinner with pristine white table cloths & napkins, fancy center pieces, champagne toast and announcements of new associates and partners. And to round out the evening, an inebriated secretary spilling the news about her husband and the paralegal’s tet-ta-tet, being a wealth of information, providing dates of trips, over nights in the city…
As the polar vortex griped the nation, he was walking around with workout, sweat proof attire, sporting a huge bulge at the apex of his thighs. He’s an active duty military, married, who likes to workout a couple hours a day. When he’s not in his military uniform, he’s in spandex workout garb.a “Dumbo with a big cock” She thought, as he walked up to her table and introduced himself. They’d dispensed of the fake names sometime ago when the communication had reach personal email status. The topics went from general to; how much he liked to eat pussy, how he liked to make it wet and finger fuck it before he fucked it with his cock, how he liked to tongue kiss while fucking her hard letting her taste herself. And she shyly admitted to liking being fucked hard. He didn’t seem to care that her contribution to this hot sexual exchange was minimal, mostly replies to his rants about “good in bed” he was. That he’d had sex in a parking lot and finger fucked a chick at a Stephen King flick.
On that cold day, they left the cafe and she followed him to a no name motel. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to do this, but felt she should at least have the experience. Once in the room, the tv on for white noise he told her, he went for her breast. squeezing them together, pinching her nipples repeatedly. On the bed he removed her boots and she unzipped her slacks removing them along with her panties exposing herself to him. To her surprise, he pulled down his tight spandex pants, letting his hard cock fall and balls fall out, grabbing her head telling her to suck him. As she tried to suck the head he pushed her head deeper causing her to gag. This seemed to delight him as he moaned, yes go deeper. With each thrust aided by his hand at the back of her head, he moaned louder. Just as she could taste his precum juice, he pulled out, pushed her back onto the bed and was on top of her and in with one failed swoop. Now telling her to rock with me. He ejaculated pressing all his weight on her. When he recovered he used his fingers to play with her pussy bringing her to orgasm.
She said she had no expectations of romance, but I somehow felt the encounter was a let down because he’d talked a big game about how he liked to eat pussy, make you cum big, make you cum more than once. Which he had not. Seemingly, there was no hard fuck, just a few pumps and a spewing of cum. About the only thing he did do, was finger fuck her to cum, so at least she got an orgasm out of the encounter. Surely, had she been prepared to suck his huge cock, she may have used her tongue to stimulate his cock head, played with his balls with her hands and maybe licked his balls little to tingle in senses and sucking just the head with a few deep strokes making him cum.
She sent an email asking if he’d like to meet again, this time for dinner before heading off to a room. No response. She waited a week and sent another email, but it was returned as “undeliverable”. Apparently he’d deleted that address. He was one and done. That was her one and only experience on the site. She has since deleted her profile and deleted the semi nudes from her photo cache.
Having followed my blog for sometime, she wanted to know how I managed to have mind blowing sex with men and women. You have to be completely open to enjoying the sex. The act of it. Making it your own. You can’t hold back because then it will have the feeling of being forced. She knew by going to that motel room there would be intercouse, cock sucking (men love to have their cock’s sucked-period). There’s nothing wrong in telling him to make you wet before you suck him off…no one person rules when it comes to foreplay, cunnilingus, fellatio and intercourse.
Next up; Chapter Two, Brenda and the NASA scientist/administrator, who’s online name resembled the popular three part book with “shades” of color. Probably the only man I’ve heard of that has read all three books!!
Weeks of reading countless emails…heartbreaking, hilarious, warm stories of those who have lived through the affair-the affair found on Ashely Madison.
Over the next several weeks I will revel the stories of 8 women and their journey through the looking glass of an extra martial affair. Eight guys all married as they sought sex with a stranger. Eight chapters to capture your imagination, your lust, your disgust and maybe a tear or two of empathy.
These stories will be explicit, candid and brutally honest. The names will be fake, the locations not included.
Join me as I travel through the lives of Karen, Brenda, Lucy, Greta, Maggie, Carol, Teressa and Ella.
I’ve flown by the seat of my pants for some time now. I categorize myself as a lone wolf. It was a way to free myself from the bounds of being accountable, having to explain and a bed partner when I wasn’t in the mood. It was a difficult, heartbreaking decision to break it off, but I felt if I was remotely thinking of doing something so rash, then it had to be done.
I did. He was hurt. I am sorry. But still, it was the best. The relationship was heading in a direction I wasn’t ready for…more to the point he wasn’t the guy. The wedding bells, blissful riding off into the sunset guy. Oh, he was sweet, he had a good heart, but he was just a little too controlling for my personality. No, I wasn’t going to prime him for threesome, adult clubs or private (invite only) sex parties. It wasn’t that kind of relationship. We were normal. It was a normal relationship. Work the week and enjoy our weekends, either at home (my house, usually) or off on a two adventure.
We’d wake, make coffee, I’d feed my girl, we’d change and head out for a nice early morning run. Enjoy cups of my favorite brew on the sun porch reading the morning paper while planning our day. A farmer’s market in out in the country, or a day tip just because. Dinner out or a fest at home of our market selections. He was a wonderful cook and we took turns. It was all so picture perfect. But when I looked in the mirror I saw no sparkle in my brown eyes. A girls knows when she’s happy, if she’s being honest with herself. The eyes tell it all. When men are happy, they tend to block out the other stuff. He was happy.
It’s been a year and I’m getting along fabulously. On a moments notice I decided to attend the 2015 French Open. Just me. I’ve done that a lot in past 13 months. I’ve found an excellent house and pet sitter who has been a Godsend. She’s great with my girl and she is perfect for my home.
Within a 14 day period, I had tickets to the opens last 3 days, a prime hotel and round-trip air tickets. I packed light, I had visions of shopping my way through the rue des Rosiers, the Place des Vosges, Printemps and Galeries Lafayette. And I wasn’t disappointed!
A woman alone, meandering through the streets of Paris. It was liberatice! The food was fantastic! The Open was…well, the men’s match was very exciting as a new champion was crowned. And Serena didn’t disappoint the crowd of French aristocrats when she gave her winning, thank you speech in French…flawless French!
While my seat was not a nose bleeder, it wasn’t an inner circle-on the court seat either. Sitting in the mid section, I was seated between a British couple all three days, on the second day I realized they were together and married. I offered that the gentleman and I would exchange seats so he could sit next to his wife. As we sat 3 together we engaged in conversation during exchange of sides and in between sets. The wife and I had a couple of ladies’ room breaks together. By day 3, we greeted each other as old friends as we entered the stadium together. There was dinner afterwards. A stroll through the park by the Tower Eiffel. And we shared a kiss, husband and I at the wife’s request. It was a shy peck on the lips until she baulked that we should kiss as they French would kiss. We did. It was spine tingling. We walked and talked until we found our way back to their hotel. We sat in the lobby, at my insistence, I felt they needed to explore their options a little more. I sensed this would be a new experience for both and I wanted to make sure they were sure.
We headed up to the concierge floor, grabbed a bottle of French bubbly and began our exploration of each other. She was older than her husband. He was fairly handsome, with abs and tight butt. Her breasts were soft with evidence of her age, but she was well versed in the art of tonguing my clit making me wetter than I’d ever been. Once she’d gotten me wet while I licked and sucked on his hard as a rock cock, she wanted to watch as he inserted himself into my juicy pussy. She sat in a chair while we made out on the bed, as if she wasn’t there. I glanced over to find her naked, spread legged and masturbating. Pulling on her nipple and fingering her pussy, eyes focused on he and I, as he turned me over to fuck me doggie style. I offered to oblige her, she insisted that I enjoy her husband. He and I came together. It was tense, loud and hard. We enjoyed our post coitus bliss. She was very appreciative, but I felt it was I who should be thanking her. He was awesome. He wanted to shower together, we did, did it again in the shower, redressed and headed out for a late night drink in the lobby bar with some cheese and crackers.
I was beginning to feel a little exhausted. The sun at the stadium, the champagne, the wine, the orgasms, were catching up with me. She walked me to the Valet who hailed me a cab, we hugged, thanked each other and into the cab I went. I left the next day, departing CDG early afternoon for ATL. I occupied myself between meals with my iPod listening to an audiobook. But I could help asking myself several times; How do I stop? How do I stop being the lone wolf? Open and free for adventure, impromptu moments.
As I keyed the door to my garage, I was so happy to see my girl. We played our welcome home game, her bringing me all her favorite toys to play with at once. And in that moment, I decided; I don’t want to stop. I think I’ll get another German Shepherd puppy.
Yup. This blog is exactly what you think it is. Vivere Marie and Nova Moriarty are here to share the process of trying to figure out this thing called dating and romance. Seriously, the hell is that?! Nova Moriarty is an author of high fantasy erotica, and this blog is the epicenter of her book news and thoughts on writing.