My Wife Is a Hotwife. Very. (so Is My Sister.)
Adapted from husband's computer diary:
Our family is a bit complicated. Five years after I married Jennifer, her younger brother Alan married my younger sister Helen – who is actually two and half years older than Alan. Our siblings now live four states away. Some acquaintances think the arrangement of my brother marrying my wife’s sister is “cool,” but I’ve never understood why they think that.
I don’t like repeating trite sayings, but truth really can be stranger than fiction. Our lives are proof enough.
A dozen sexual experiences, each far different from the other, shaped the future that we now are living out. Although we have more carnal memoirs than those documented herein, the following are the most significant.
Chapter One. I admit to my wife I wanted another man to **** her.
My 26-year old, slender wife Jennifer is 5’5”, with a long graceful neck and long legs. Her face is porcelain-like pink, and her brown hair hangs to her shoulders. We married when she was 19. I was then 26.
Although her own opinion of her appearance is “average,” it’s no exaggeration for me to say that she is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever known. She has worked as a secretary for the same large insurance company since we married.
She looks far younger than she really is. Her slightly-smaller than average breasts account for part of her adolescent look. She is almost always carded whenever we go to a lounge serving alcohol. When encountering her in younger-casual outfits, strangers often misjudge her as a middle-school junvenile.
At 33, my genetic makeup is far different. My blond hair is thinning early and I look older than my age. Our family doctor says I’ll be bald or mostly bald by age 40. Runs in my family.
Jennifer was shy when I met her. She was also inhibited and somewhat bashful when this series of events began.
Each of us was open with the other about our past sexual experiences while dating. Well, to be more accurate, I thought she had told me about all of them. I didn’t learn of another until years later and then understood why she withheld that remarkable episode.
She admitted the details of her sex life with other guys before we met. She had jerked off boys of various ages since she was 12. At 14, she ****** a lifeguard working for a local swimming pool and continued dating him for perhaps four months.
A few days after her 15th birthday, she became friends with a 32-year old married neighbor I knew. She went on ******* him off and on until he and his family moved away a few weeks before we were engaged. During the first two years of their relationship, she had sex with two school friends, a fact known to the neighbor who held no jealousy over her sharing her treasures.
She dated another married guy for several months when I first met her. I learned she ****** him at least twice after we began going out. He freaked out when her period was late and, assuming she was pregnant, ran for the hills.
I dream a lot. Just a week or so after we married, I had a dream of my handsome boss Hal ******* her as I watched. Unable to shake that graphic image, I frequently *********** to the dream’s memory. Hal was an alpha male by any standard and held the rare ability to positively intimidate any employee under his control.
In the dream, he was affirming his control over me and my wife. With true fear of whatever unknown action he might have taken had we not submitted, Jennifer and I willingly submitted to his demand of sexual conquest. Although Jennifer initially resisted in this dream, she surrendered her body and soul totally to him as his huge **** plumbed her depths. Her heels pounded his buttocks as she cried, “Oh yeah, Hal, **** my hot ****. Your ****’s so much better than my wimpy-dicked husband’s!”
I awoke, breathless, with a hard-on that wouldn’t subside for an hour.
I thereafter often fantasized about her with other men. I couldn’t admit this to Jennifer the first four years of our marriage. Ultimately, an evening during hot sex, I told her about the dream and that I found the idea of her dating another guy very exciting.
I told her to imagine I was one of the men she worked with. Immediately electrified, she returned each of my mighty thrusts fiery lust.
She murmered some guy’s name I hadn’t before heard, “Davie! I waited so long for your hot ****. Go deeper!” We convulsed in mutual *******. “Davie,” I learned, was a student who worked part-time in her company’s copier room. She often talked with him and had lunch with him a couple of times in the company’s lunch lounge. I would later learn that the guy that most appealed to her was another co-worker, Bill, with whom she worked more closely.
My wife admitted experiencing dreams of faceless men ******* her. She once said during the heat of a sexual interlude that if she ever considered another man as I had urged, she would want to **** Bill. “But that’s just a fantasy,” she added.
This sort of pillow conversation happened often. But as the excitation subsided, she interjected that this had been just a fleeting fantasy.
I received a promotion that required my traveling three weeks out of four. Although I returned home each weekend, my weekdays were at a series of hotels. I typically phoned home about every other night.
From the first year of our marriage, I bought most of her clothes, always the shortest of skirts that were reasonably conservative. I got a charge as other guys leered at her long legs and figure as we walked past.
She admitted having the same effect on guys where she worked. One of those was a married man about her age who she described as “really cute.” She said, “His name’s Bill. He will occasionally bring papers to my desk to be given to my boss, and his hand ‘accidentally’ touches mine. He lets his fingers linger on my hand longer than necessary.” As time went on, he kissed her a couple of times in the office’s copier room.
She described him as about 5’10”, brown hair, lean and athletic. She said he flirted a lot; but after a few weeks, she stopped talking about him. I assumed he stopped hitting on her.
My wife had begun to lose her shy, self-effacing, attributes. She acted more confident, almost cocksure, around others. This first became evident at an office party we attended. She seemed like a magnet, attracting the largest group around her. Her hands were more animated than most others, and the inflection in her voice drew people around her.
Perhaps the attention from men she had begun to notice was one reason, but even she wasn’t sure what brought this change about. Yet, I hadn’t immediately noticed a change in my wife’s behavior during that time. She had shaved her groin and frequently trimmed it smooth. Somehow, this made her seem even younger than usual.
And whenever we fantasized in bed about her being with other men, she no longer said that she wouldn’t really act out our fantasy. On the other hand, I had stopped asking that she should actually consider ******* someone else with my eager permission.
Chapter Two. My wife ***** a co-worker.
On a Thursday, a day before I normally returned home for the weekend, a client phoned to tell me that cirmcumstances required him to reschedule our Friday appointment. I checked out of the hotel that afternoon and drove three hours home.
It was then 7 p.m. and Jennifer wasn’t home. I read the last of a novel and watched TV until near midnight. I wondered if perhaps she was finally acting out our fantasy.
The thought made me jealous; I’d never thought that I’d feel jealousy if she actually did it. My temper rose. Yet at the same time, I realized I must be an idiot. Having badgered her about it for years, I had no right to feel jealous; yet, I was unable to stop the feeling.
And, at that moment, I heard her car driving in. I opened the dining room door into the garage as she got out of the car. Her face reflected surprise and frustration at my being home a day earlier than anticipated. She removed a small bag of groceries from the Honda’s back seat and walked in, kissing me on the cheek.
She sputtered, “I didn’t expect you! When did you get in?”
I lied, “Four or five minutes ago. Were you out with friends?”
Sitting the bag on our kitchen counter, she said, “I just went shopping a few minutes, so I guess I’d just left shortly before you got home. We needed a few things.” Jennifer was never a good liar.
I deferred challenging her obvious lie until we each had shared wine on the living room couch. Sitting aside my glass, I turned to her, I said, “Okay. I arrived early and waited hours for you. So I know you didn’t go on a short shopping trip. How about the truth?”
Stunned, she sat silently. A tear streaked down her cheek. She admitted she was at the home of her coworker Bill whose wife works as a hospital’s night nurse. Probing further, I learned she had been seeing him for a couple of months, two or three times a week.
It began when her boss asked the two of them to drive over to the insurance company’s storage warehouse and locate a long-dead file. The file room was dim, lit only by a single window facing the parking lot. By chance, she located the file within minutes, saving them perhaps hours of searching.
Bill approached her from the shadows. With the sexual tension that had built for the past two months, she trembled. With anxious fervor, he took the file from her hand, pressed her butt against a work table and kissed her. Her body pressed against his as she heatedly offered her lips to his. She unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her breasts.
Jennifer’s creaming ***** flamed in uncontrolled lust.
She told me this with great reluctance until I unzipped my fly and began ******* off. Realizing my enthusiasm, she went on with her story in great detail.
Each groin rotated against the other. As his **** swelled and pulsed against her *****, she could no longer resist his advances. He reached beneath her short blue skirt and ripped away her thong panties.
Joyful tears streaked her face. She unzipped his fly and squeezed his throbbing ****. She gazed lewdly in the darkness, down to her coworker’s fat, purple-veined length. She gasped at its size. Her small hand quivered as she stroked its firm dimensions. Her fingers unable to enwrap his enormous shaft, she gasped “Oh, Bill! I don’t know if I can take anything so big!”
My wife kneeled before him, admiring his *****’s dimensions and smooth texture. His groin was completely shaven. Her tongue lapped his intimidating stalk and she opened her mouth to allow him entry. She held its base and, with her other hand, stroked his puffy ball-sac as Bill’s hips bucked against her face.
He gripped her waist and pushed her butt onto the tabletop. She spread her legs invitingly and sobbed with lust as his **** approached her quivering vagina.
His broad, walnut-shaped head divided her fiery ****’s palpitating lips. Her body pulsated, wanting and yet fearing the intrusion of his massive member. Her lips trembling, she moaned wantonly. “Try to fit it in,” she pleaded, “I need you so badly!”
He maneuvered the monster slowly, deeper into her cuntal walls. She squealed in delight and wrapped her long legs about his smooth hips as the throbbing baton penetrated her grateful inner parts. The pain she had anticipated lasted just seconds, and then subsided. Her cream flowed abundantly, coating his large ****. She bawled lustfully, “Oh, yeah. Gimme more. I can take it all!”
Her slick ***** steamed. His **** now hammered to her treasure’s farthest measure. The thick-veins atop his oversized shaft rippled along her clitoris. She squealed in rapture, “Oh, yeah! **** my hot ****.” She encircled her arms about his thick neck and whimpered, “I waited so long! It’s so good to have you within me!”
Bill groaned as his body stiffened. Her hypersensitive cuntal walls sensed his white lava rocketed through his ***** and erupted within her womb. A thousand stars exploded in the room’s darkness as they mutually orgasmed in simultaneous cries of pleasure. His lava seemed to flow forever, whirlpooling through her craven recesses.
Breathless, he crawled atop the table and lay over her. His lips covered hers as each murmurered thankfully to the other. “I never thought we’d hook up,” he said, to which she responded, “I’m so glad we did. It was wonderful. I wasn’t sure how long I could wait for your **** inside me.”
Returning to the office in the company car, Bill asked Jennifer her age. He was astonished to learn her true age. He said, “You look about 19, if not younger.”
“Well, okay,” she said, “but you were a surprise too. I didn’t know those things came in ‘extra-large.’” He giggled and said, “Glad to serve you any time.”
My wife went on, “So I wanted to be ‘served’ often. Guess you could say I was a satisfied customer.”
After her tale, we went to bed immediately and had great sex. As her mouth engulfed my ****, I told her that I wouldn’t mind if she continued seeing the guy.
I would later learn that his fetish was the reason she begun shaving her *****, even before I’d learned of their loving liaison. Her co-worker had a thing for young girls and that was another reason he was particularly attracted to my wife.
They continued ******* a couple of times a week thereafter until she informed him, against my advice, that I was aware of the affair. I assumed that he either became apprehensive about my knowing or thought the situation was just too weird. For whatever reason, they agreeably broke up within a month after her revelation.
Her detailed descriptions of each past rendezvous never failed to get me hard. Their affair, though, offered yet another benefit. At some point, after my wife admitted to me he was ******* her, she began displaying an assertiveness and confidence I’d never before seen in her. Ultimately, she would take the lead in finding guys without my encouragement.
By the time she and Bill dropped their affair, any lack of self confidence had completely vanished. In some ways, she was even displaying degrees of dominance in our own relationship. I asked her whether that personality change might have something to do with the breakup with her co-worker. She wasn’t sure but said she doubted it.
Continued in Chapter 3 . . .