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Locking Hubby out . . .

I hadn’t really been looking forward to visiting the club last Friday. It had been a busy week (well, busy two weeks actually! LOL!!), and I told Hubby I was feeling tired and not really in the mood. But he was insistent, and said he’d been thinking about it all week . . . and that we could have a long lie-in bed in the morning. So . . .

We ate out at one of our favourite restaurants nearby, and arrived at the club just after 11 p.m. It was already busy at the bar, and even as I undressed in the cloakroom, from my top-layers of the coat and dress I’d worn for our meal, I still didn’t feel excited or motivated. I’d worn one of my tiny black lace see-through baby dolls and skimpy g-string, and I could tell as I walked back to the bar that at least Hubby certainly approved . . . and excited.

We spent the next hour chatting to several different couples and were then joined by a single guy whom we had spoken with on a couple of our previous visits. He was quite cheeky and fun to talk with and kept suggesting I go with him into the main room to see “if anything interesting was happening”. Eventually, after an hour of his insistence (and after we’d finished our wine), I gave in and he took my hand and led me off down the corridor. I glanced back to see Hubby smiling and then getting down off his stool to follow us. The crowd around the bar had thinned quite considerably over the past 30 minutes or so . . . and we could now see where they had all disappeared to. Two women were entertaining a number of men on the large low bed in the corner of the main Play Room. Scattered around the edges of the room a number of other couples, and singles, were standing or sitting in various stages of activity. My new companion and I stood just inside the doorway, his arm curled around my back and then stroking me over my bum cheeks. His other hand reached round to start gently pinching at my nipples . . . and then down over my tummy and up and inside my g-string. We were suddenly joined by a blonde woman standing to the left of us who began kissing my neck and shoulders. I glanced over to our right and could see Hubby standing by the other corner smiling across at us. The blonde woman was becoming bolder now, much bolder, as she eased the straps of my top down over my shoulders to bare both my breasts. I felt her breath on my nipples . . . and then her lips sucking from one to the other while my male companions fingers began sliding deliciously in and out of my cunt. All around us I could hear the sounds of sex . . . and realised my own moans were contributing to those of the others nearby. I could feel hands all over me now, running down over my back and sliding in between my bum cheeks from behind me as well. I glanced over my shoulder again. There was now another, younger man, standing behind me and working his hands between my legs and yet another guy shuffling behind him reaching over and trying to join in. They were all squeezing against me now and I could sense that both of these new arrivals had their trousers open, or down, as I felt bare cocks rubbing against my bum cheeks and thigh. I felt myself swooning and my groans getting louder. I closed my eyes tightly and rocked my head backwards as a wave of excitement tingled through me. This couldn’t be me, I couldn’t possibly be doing this, squeezed up against a wall with hands roaming and caressing all over me, fingers pushing inside me, and the lovely sensation of my nipples being gently licked and sucked. I was groaning louder, I knew I was, I could hear my own moans above the other noises around me . . . and I could feel, and hear, the hot breath of the men behind and to the side of me. And, the muffled moans of my blonde lady who, from her rhythmic pushing and rocking against me was now obviously right in front of me. I opened my eyes and could see she was being fucked from behind by an attractive tall guy I’d seen standing at the bar earlier. She pulled her lips away from my breasts and instead slipped both her hands down to hold my hips for support as the pounding from behind her got more frantic. I looked up and around, Hubby had moved right up to be standing with the group of us, obviously wanting a better view of everything that was happening to me. I rolled my eyes and lifted my hands up in a motion partly to say I couldn’t control all the hands and bodies rubbing against me . . . and partly in a motion of surrender to everything that was happening. He knew I was enjoying it, it was up to him to intervene, or join-in, if he wanted.

But it was actually my initial companion that acted first. He’d obviously been getting annoyed at being joined by all the others. He kissed into my ear, telling me forcibly “I want to fuck you on my own!!!” He pulled his fingers away from me and took me by the hand to lead me back down the corridor towards the Private Room. I looked back over my shoulder, Hubby was following and so were the two others! As we walked I could feel my wetness squelching, I was so aroused by what had just been happening to me that my pussy was dribbling with each step. We reached the door and my companion moved to pull me in. I turned back to Hubby who was right behind us, and put my free hand up on his chest. I kissed his cheek and whispered “he wants to fuck me on his own. I really just need to be fucked right now. I so need it. You can watch through the peep holes in the door. You’ll like that won’t you??” I realised even as I was saying it, that it was a command rather than a question.

My companion pulled me into the room and slammed the door behind us, sliding the bolt into the lock. I shuffled back onto the bed as he stood with his back to the door pulling his clothes off. I lifted my chemise up over my head and threw it onto the cushions behind us . . . and then lifted my hips as he reached forward and pulled my g-string off me. As he stood unbuckling my shoes his erect cock wobbled before me. I wanted to reach out and stroke it but he immediately rolled a condom down over it and then knelt onto the bed beside me. He opened my legs immediately and as he leant forward against me he just seemed to glide into me. No foreplay, no words or compliments . . . he was just suddenly stroking into me. I suppose he assumed I’d had all the foreplay I needed being groped up against the wall by all those hands and fingers. I threw back my head and gasped out loudly as he thrust again and pushed me further back onto the bed. I knew the one-way window into the main play room was right behind our heads and that there was probably already a crowd of viewers looking in on us. I wondered for a moment if Hubby had moved round to there, or was he perhaps still standing at the door looking in through the peep-holes. I hoped, for an instant, that he was still at the door and that at least he may be able to hear my groans . . . as well as see my new companion thrusting into me. But those thoughts lasted for only an instant before I felt myself rushing away into that private zone where there is just me being thrust and pounded back against the bed, just me and my new companion, both of us grunting and groaning (and mainly me squealing and shouting apparently, according to Hubby later).

I knew I was lifting my legs straight up into the air on either side of his hips. I knew I was pulling and hugging my arms around his back and shouting encouragement into his shoulder as he stroked back and forth into me. “Fucking hell, fuck me, fuck me. I need it, I fucking love it”. I was feeling rampant and gasping out with each pumping thrust. I wanted to come, I needed to come, needed it so badly. He slowed and reached up to hold my ankles. I thrust myself up against him to quicken his thrusts again. I was so close, so close and I didn’t want him to stop. I felt him thrusting again and heard him gasping out, he was coming too. I dropped my legs down behind his back, pulling him into me and humping against him. I felt myself coming and screamed out with the rush, pulling myself up with my arms cradled around his shoulders for a moment . . . and then falling backwards onto the bed, throwing my arms out to each side and twisting and shaking as the waves rolled over me. As he pulled out, I jerked and shuddered and rolled over onto my side, pulling my knees up into my foetal position of complete release and relaxation.

After a few minutes of being completely oblivious to everything else, I could feel him moving around on the bed. He cuddled into me and said “Fantastic. You really are fantastic”. I was suddenly coming-to now and realising that there must have been lots of pairs of eyes looking in at us, from both ends of the room. My exhibitionistic wantonness suddenly replaced with that self-conscious nervousness . . . I was completely naked and exposed . . . and I must have been behaving like a brazen, and out-of-control, slut.

He was already getting dressed. I shuffled around retrieving my chemise from the tangle of cushions, consciously not looking up into the mirror window even though I knew I couldn’t see anything but my own reflection, but knowing that anybody could be looking in on us and would have seen everything. My companion handed me my g-string, and waited whilst I sat on the end of the bed and buckled-up my shoes. We kissed briefly again as I stood and then he turned to unlock the door.

Hubby was sitting at the bar when we emerged. I could tell he was annoyed. “Are you cross?” I asked as I kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand. “Were you able to watch us?” He nodded and said, “I watched, but would rather have been inside with you. Anyway, it’s late, shall we make a move?”

I knew he was cross and disappointed. But I’d just been unable to say no, unable to control those sudden new emotions that had overwhelmed me as I’d been fingered and caressed and licked and sucked against that wall. I knew Hubby was cross, I knew he was disappointed . . . BUT he got his reward the next morning!!!

 

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Friday evening with Lover No. 2

We hadn’t met since February, so when Lover No. 2 called to say he would have the house to himself on the following Friday I had no hesitation in agreeing to his invitation for dinner . . . and desserts!! His wife would be away on business for the night and he was desperate for a longer session than we’d been able to arrange in February (Lover No. 2).

Unlike my husband, No. 2 enjoys cooking so I teasingly told him I would be thrilled to be “waited on hand . . . and cock” and asked if I would be allowed to lounge again in his huge bath tub whilst he prepared the food. He replied that I should text him when I was leaving the office and he’d “run the bath and chill the wine”.

His house is actually just a 20 minute cab journey from work and I arrived just after 7 p.m. True to his word he greeted me with a large glass of wine (and passionate embraces) and told me my bath was ready. We stood kissing at the foot of the stairs for some time though, his caresses pushing me gently against the wall and his hands almost immediately unzipping my dress and unclipping my bra. It was difficult for me to return his caressing as I had the wine glass in one hand and was having to reach back with the other to keep myself steady against the wall. I could feel his erection through his trousers though, rubbing against my leg as we continued exchanging kisses. I was already moaning with delight as he rubbed the palms of his hands across my nipples as he slid them under the bra. As I leant back against the wall I swapped the wine glass from one hand to the other behind his head as I slid each arm free from the sleeves of my dress . . . and my bra straps. I gasped into his ear as I felt the dress drop from me to the floor. He was sliding his tongue and lips down my tummy now as he dropped to his knees and slid my knickers off over my hips as quickly as he’d unclipped my bra. I stepped, one leg at a time, from my panties . . . my legs opening wider as I did so . . . and then groaning with the pleasure of his tongue licking down and in between my lips. “I need that bath” I told him, “I’ve been working all day, I must be sweaty and smelly”.“You smell wonderful” he lifted away for a moment to answer up to me, before leaning forward again to push his tongue back into me. He’d slid his hands down to my ankles now and was pushing my legs apart wider. I tried to lift him up and move him over towards the stairs. He twisted with me long enough to swivel me around and then sit me backwards down onto the carpeted steps, taking the glass from me now and placing it down on the floor beside him. His hands ran back over my knees spreading me wider as he leant forward, flicking his tongue over me again. I was quickly losing the will to protest about needing a bath, gasping out again as his fingers reached up to squeeze at my nipples and I felt his tongue scraping over my lips and pushing gloriously into my slit. “Oh fuck” I groaned loudly as he leant back now and slid one hand down between my legs again and followed the path of his tongue with his finger. I’d been with him just a matter of minutes and hadn’t gotten past his front hallway and here I was, completely naked but for my hold-up stockings, laid back on his stairs with his head, and fingers, pumping up and down, and in and out, between my legs. “I love that” I moaned as I reached round to hold his head with both my hands now. “You taste fantastic, you’re so wet” he was telling me, but I didn’t need him to tell me . . . I could feel it. “I love it, fucking love it” I was urging him on now, grasping his bobbing head and pushing it against me in time with his own rocking. “Oohh, oohh” I gasped out as he turned his fingers around inside me and I felt the heel of his palm on me now as he lifted his mouth away. “Finger me, finger me, don’t stop” I was pleading as I felt him slow for a moment. But he was only re-adjusting his position. “Oh fuck,” I gasped out again as his hand suddenly began quickening in it’s pushing and thrusting and his face leant forward again. I pushed his face into me more. “Finger it, fuck me with it” I was gasping and lifting my legs up onto his shoulders. I came with short, loud, screams, clamping his head between my legs and rocking from side to side. As the ripples and shudders subsided I was suddenly conscious of his gasps for breath and his head pushing up against my hands. He shook himself free and I twisted to one side trying to stretch my legs and keep my balance on the step of the stairs. He held me and lifted me up a little, laughing and telling me how he loved seeing me come like that, and that he’d never seen any woman make so much noise and expressions as I did.

I needed a few minutes to recover, even as uncomfortable as it was. Before I sat back up properly and looked at him sitting two steps below me and grinning like a Cheshire cat. “You promised I could be having a bath” I scolded him. He laughed and said “you may have to top it up with a bit hotter water now”.

He also topped up my wine for me as I lounged back in the warmth and relaxing comfort of the water, leaving me to soak and unwind whilst he went back downstairs to attend to his meal. It was so relaxing, and I’d had such a hectic day in the office, and then a hectic come at the foot of his stairs, that I could have laid there for hours . . .

. . . he helped me dry and wrapped me in one of the towelling robes hanging on the back of the bathroom door. (It wasn’t until much later in the evening when I’d finally arrived home, and was reliving my story to Hubby, that I realised I hadn’t asked if it was his robe . . . or ‘hers’!)

I felt wonderfully spoilt, having had a really nice meal cooked for me, and then cuddling back onto the sofa together as we relaxed and chatted about both our weeks. We talked for quite some time actually . . . no, it’s not all just about sex . . . it’s also about just being comfortable in someone else’s company and being able to talk about family and work things just like old friends, which of course we are.

Gradually though our cuddles became closer, and longer. I could feel he was aroused again, as I gently squeezed his hardness through his trousers. I complained that he was still dressed and pushed him back against the back of the sofa and began undoing the buttons of his shirt. He helped undo his belt and as he stood to slide his trousers off, his erection sprang forwards in front of me. I closed my mouth over him and reached forward to cup his balls in the palm of my hand as I sucked up and down on him. I love the feel of a warm cock growing harder and stiffer in my mouth, and as he sank back down onto the sofa I could tell he was loving it too.

I was kneeling on the floor between his knees now, enjoying slowly sliding my lips up and down on him and then wrapping my fingers around his shaft as I licked and flicked my tongue over its head, before sliding my mouth down completely onto him again. I opened my eyes and could see his tummy flexing and could hear his breath quickening. I lifted away and then stood up in front of him, leaning forward to position myself over him before sitting down onto his lap. We both gasped at the feeling of me sliding my wetness down onto him. He was grasping my hips as I slowly started lifting up and then pushing back down onto him. He leant forward sucking at my nipples and thrusting his own hips upwards to meet my downward thrusts. We fucked like this for just a few minutes before he asked if we could go upstairs to the bedroom.

We stood embracing by the side of the bed before he laid me down across it in front of him. I started to slide my back across towards the middle to make room for him to climb in next to me, but instead he pulled me back to the edge, lifting my legs up and apart and immediately sliding his cock into me. I gasped with the exertion, and the excitement, of being pulled back to the side of the bed like that . . . and then gasped louder as he straight away began thrusting straight into me. He was grunting “do you like that” as he pumped into me . . . I gasped back “you know I fucking love it, you know I love fucking you”.

He pulled my legs around behind his bum, pushing down on my breasts with the palm of each hand, really pumping at me now in hard and quickening thrusts. I could hear the slapping of our skin together and I was crying out in the pleasure of the sounds, and the feelings. He was grunting quite loudly too and I loved hearing our gasps and groans like that . . . almost animalistic and wanton, I was gasping at him “fuck my cunt, oohh I fucking love it”.

I was coming again and then felt him cry out and pull himself out and thrust it forward over my tummy. He pushed and pulled against me for a few more strokes as I felt myself rolling over onto my side again in spasms as his weight pushed me back further onto the bed. He rolled over me completely, pulling me over on top of him and then down onto my back again. I was swearing and gasping and shaking . . . it wasn’t until I stretched my legs out a few minutes later that I suddenly felt the wet patches on the bed cover beneath me that I was sure that he’d come as well. We were cuddling together and then giggling to each other in whispers as I rolled and pushed him further as I tried to find a dry spot to completely stretch out and recover.

We lay unspeaking for sometime. Him just kissing my neck and shoulders occasionally, me holding my hands up in my “recovery mode” position to try and keep him still. Eventually we dozed, obviously so comfortable and warm in each other’s arms that we both felt the need to just let our senses unwind and return to our normal senses.

It’s always difficult having to pull myself out of bed and convince the both of us that it is time to go home, but on this occasion it was even more difficult. Perhaps the bath, perhaps the wine, perhaps the enormity of my second orgasm . . . had just left me feeling so relaxed . . .

No. 2 called the cab and then helped me retrieve my scattered clothing from the bottom of the stairs where it had lay from the first few moments of my arrival. The motion of the cab on the journey home seemed to make me feel even more drowsy and exhausted . . . but I knew Hubby would be waiting up on the sofa for me to arrive home and relive all that had happened . . . and that my evening wasn’t over just yet!!!

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Lover No. Three

I’ve had numerous emails over the past month asking if there is a Lover No. 3. Yes there is . . . although I don’t meet with him as regularly as No’s 1 and 2 . . . this “recollection” is from the last occasion we were able to get-together late last year . . .

One of the advantages of now having both the children away on their studies is having the freedom of our house back again. Not only in the evenings when we can come home from work and wander about in various states of undress as we please, but having long, and noisy passionate, lie-ins on the weekends. AND having the opportunity of taking an occasional duvet-day during the week . . . a day off work and being able to “indulge” without fear of interruption or discovery.

I’d been exchanging texts throughout the week with No. 3, him telling me how desperate he was to see me, me complaining back that he never seemed to be able make the evenings I was free. He is a sports therapist so much of his work is in the early evenings when his clients are most usually available. I teased him that I was planning to spend a day working from home during the week and he texted back that he had no appointments on Thursday morning. I immediately replied “could I book a massage?”.

Hubby brought me in tea and toast in bed that morning, instead of us breakfasting together in the kitchen as we normally would. He joked “if I leave the key under the mat you could just lie-in till he arrives”. But I replied “I have to shower silly. I need to feel fresh and clean” He kissed his goodbye telling me “just don’t shower afterwards, you know I prefer you NOT to be fresh and clean!!!”

I quickly changed the bedclothes and tidied up the bedroom before taking my shower. I always love the feel of the jets of water splashing over me as I shower, but of course, it feels even better with the excitement and anticipation of knowing what is possibly to come. I’d initially allowed more than enough time to be doing my hair and make-up, but I’d then spent rather longer in the shower than I should have . . . so suddenly felt a bit rushed as I realised the time. It was still cold and wet outside, but warm in the house with the heating on so I chose a summery cotton dress, loose and comfortable . . . and, of course, I wasn’t going to need any knickers . . .

The doorbell rang just after 9. I’ve entertained him at our home on lots of occasions over the past few years (I’ve also visited his house on one or two occasions very early on in our relationship, but never felt entirely at ease there so we usually meet at a local Holiday Inn). I made him coffee and we sat in the front room chatting for quite some time, just catching-up on news of both our sets of children, and things going on at his work.

We’d been talking for almost an hour I think, before he asked “are you still up for that massage?”.
“Of course” I giggled back. “Let’s go upstairs, I’ve got my scented-oils out for you”.
We stood kissing by the bed as I closed the bedroom door behind us. He ran his hands down over my hips and then up under my skirt, whispering his excitement into my ear as he discovered my bare bum cheeks. We kissed for a few moments more before I raised my arms so he could lift my dress up over my head. I was already unbuttoning his shirt as my dress fell to the floor. I pulled it off his own shoulders and reached for his belt but he pushed me gently away and told me to lay down on the bed.
“On your stomach” he said as I’d just flopped down onto my back at first. “Where is your oil?” he asked.
“It’s on the dressing table” I replied as I obediently rolled over onto my tummy.
I gasped as I felt the first squeeze of his oiled palms on my shoulders . . . and then lowered my head forward onto the pillow as I let myself go to his squeezing and kneading. He really does give a wonderful, relaxing, massage (it’s part of his job of course) and I loved the total feeling of relaxation as his hands worked over my neck, shoulders, back and then down over my thighs and the backs of my legs.

It was just a complete massage at first . . . for over 20 minutes he told me, turning me over onto my back to massage my shoulders, arms, waist and then down over my hips and legs again. No sexual stimulation at all, my breasts and pubes completely untouched, just so relaxing and warming and continuous as he turned me over onto my tummy again.
As I buried my face into the pillow again, I noticed a pause in his kneading. I opened one eye, not feeling I wanted to move my cheek from the pillow. I closed it again as I felt him kneel onto the bed beside me now and felt his hands on my back again. He was working his hands down to the small of my back and then over the cheeks of my bottom, kneading and rubbing my cheeks gently in circular motions. I felt more oil and a sudden dribbling as his hands gently lifted my legs further apart. My gasps became louder now as I felt fingers spreading the oil down between my cheeks . . . and then between and under my pelvis. I felt myself almost involuntarily spreading my lips for him, as though my pussy had a will of its own. I knew I was groaning quite loudly now as I felt his fingers pushing further forward and up . . . or was it me squirming myself down against them.
“Ohh, how many have you . . . ?” I gasped out to him.
“Only two”, he answered. “Do you want more?”
I shook my head, “no, no, not yet . . . that’s lovely”.
He was pushing down on my bottom with the palm of his other hand, pushing me against my squirming and squeezing as I tensed and then relaxed my muscles over and over. I felt him adjusting his position on the bed next to me. His fingers were still there, I was squeezing and relaxing onto them, but he was sliding his other hand between my cheeks now. I felt his finger pushing and probing . . . my gasp was so loud he paused for a moment.
“Are you ok?” he asked.
I nodded my reply “gently, just gently” I groaned into the pillow.
I’d stopped my squirming and squeezing now. It was just him pushing and stroking with those two fingers still, but now pushing with one finger into my bottom. I squealed with the rush of the relaxation, and then felt myself pushing back against him slowly, matching the rhythm of his stroking. The pushing, and groaning, was slowly increasing with every successive stroke. I knew my exclamations were louder and louder . . . I knew I could be as loud as I wished and I wanted to be loud, I wanted to be screaming with the intensity.

When I came I’d lifted myself up on my knees, pushing and pumping against both his hands, reaching down between my own legs to hold his lower hand, to feel it pushing those fingers into my pussy. I wanted to be twisting my hips, shaking my bum cheeks for him, thrusting back against his fingers. I screamed out as I fell forward away from him, pulling myself off his fingers and brushing his hands away as I buried my face into the pillow trying to muffle my screams from the intensity.

Apparently I dozed for half an hour. I’m completely lost in my own zone when I’ve come like that . . . and of course his massage had made my unwinding-time even more complete after such exertion. As I eventually came to I felt him lying next to me with his arms cuddled around me. I giggled a “fucking wonderful” reply to his question of whether I’d had a nice time. We lay just kissing and cuddling and laughing as he told me my screams had been so loud he was worried that if our neighbours were home they may have called the police out. I told him I was sure all the neighbours were out at work and that I just loved being able to let myself go like that when I was enjoying myself. Being able to be as loud as I like makes it even more enjoyable and fulfilling.

Cuddled against him like that I could feel his willy semi-erect against my thigh. I reached down and started stroking as we continued talking, and teasing, about how he’d never been with anyone as noisy as I was. I could feel him growing in my hand. I sat-up and slid down on top of him, flicking my tongue over the head of his willy as I found it popping-up in front of me. I love the warmth and feel of a lovers cock growing harder as I slide my mouth up and down over it. I could tell from his movements against me that he was enjoying my attentions. I sat-up over his chest and then lowered myself down onto his hardness, reaching behind me to guide his cock into me, sharing his groans as we both felt the sliding motion and then the grip of myself around him. He grasped my hips and started to pump himself up into me with quick thrusting strokes, but I pushed down onto his chest telling him “I’m in control now. Let me!”

I lifted up and down in slower strokes, teasing him with little twists as we both looked down between ourselves and watched the tip of his cock just parting the lips of my pussy before disappearing from view as I pushed down onto him again. I was loving the feeling, as I lifted up and down, repeating my twists and bumps against him. He had his eyes tightly closed and was gasping and groaning quite quickly himself now. I lifted up completely and leant forward with my hands over his head onto the pillow and swung myself up to squat over his face. He opened his eyes and gasped again as I sunk my pussy down onto his face. “Do you like tasting my juicy cunt like this?” His reply was muffled by my pressure on his face, but I could feel his tongue feverishly licking at me. I lifted up slightly, teasing him to follow my pussy with his tongue. His head lifted up as I lifted away . . . and then I would push down on him again. “Tongue it” I told him, “tongue fuck me.” And then, “suck my clitty” as I lifted away again and swivelled more down onto him again. I tilted back a little and reached down between my legs, spreading my lips with my fingers, rubbing them over my button and sliding my index finger in. “Do you like watching that?” I asked him. Playing with myself for a minute more and then pushing two of my fingers into his mouth. “Taste my juices!”. I was loving it. Loving watching his expressions, loving feeling so naughty, and so in control sitting over him and commanding him to “lick it again, lick it more”.

He was gasping in passion, and for air, in-between my wiping myself over him again and again. I slid myself down over his chest again, feeling the slipperiness of my juices and his licking, sliding over his skin. His erection needed no guiding into me this time, we just seemed to slide together. I twisted again and sat upright, leaning backwards and feeling the pressure of his hardness now. I lifted and twisted and rocked back and forth, but just for a few strokes before he began gasping out quickly that he was going to come. I lifted up quickly off him and slid down further, squashing his cock onto his chest with my tummy and then cupping my breasts over him. He was writhing and gasping . . . I felt the squelching and wetness before he let out his groan, wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me down harder onto him. We rocked from side to side for a few moments before I felt it dribbling on my neck between us. I sat up quickly, and giggled “look at you” as we were joined together for a moment with a stretching thread of his cum, like a thin rubbery thread, a strand of a wet, milky, spiders web, before it snapped and splashed back down to him. His eyes were closed though, still moaning quietly, too relaxed himself now to notice.

I struggled off the bed to find the tissues from the dressing table, wiping myself clean from the mixture of his wetness, and the oil still left from my massage. I knelt down next to him and cleaned him up as well, laughing again as bits of tissue broke off and stuck in little patches on his shrinking willy and balls. I tried picking them off but he was ticklish and sensitive and rolled over onto his tummy. I lay down next to him . . .

We woke up at midday . . . him panicking because he had a booking at 1 o’clock and it was a 45 minute journey. I lay back on the bed, pulling the bed covers over me for the first time as I watched him dress. “Just say you got delayed by a demanding customer who needed more than just a massage” I teased him.

I did follow him down the stairs to see him out, kissing him on the cheek and thanking him for a “such an amazing massage” before opening the door. I stood naked behind the door, just leaning my head around the corner (just incase any of the neighbours were passing by) to wave goodbye. I found my phone and made my way back upstairs, collapsing back into bed again, before texting Hubby “He’s just ‘cum’ and gone. Do you want to come home early?”

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Our “Couples Adventure”

On each of our previous visits to the Swingers Club, it had been Hubby who had suggested “do you fancy going to The Club tonight?”. I had enjoyed each of our visits, but due to feeling “shy and self-conscious” and, I suppose, the “fear of the unknown” I was always nervous about being the one to make the suggestion. But I did love it whenever he had asked . . . it took the pressure off, and I would always try and make my reply of “alright then, if we must” sound nonchalant and just mildly interested (when actually I was becoming more and more excited at each visit).

But having finally “taken the plunge” on our last visit (see “Dipping our toes”) all my self-consciousness and nerves had disappeared. We’d both enjoyed wonderful sessions together on the evenings immediately following our adventure, and now I was the one excitedly asking “Can we go to The Club again this weekend?” Hubby, of course, needed no second invitation . . . he was almost trembling with excitement as he answered “yes, that would be fantastic”.

I spent much longer preparing myself that evening before we left, changing outfits several times before settling on my low-cut, short and flimsy black satin dress with a tiny G-String that I would never have dared wear before, and sheer black hold-ups and black high-heels. My excitement was accentuated when Hubby gasped from the foot of the stairs as I walked out onto the landing. He was telling me I looked “stunning” and I was enjoying his gasps as I walked down the stairs.

The Club was already reasonably busy when we arrived and there was no space for us to linger at the bar (our normal sanctuary until we could work-up enough courage to move further into the main room). So we soon found ourselves sitting next to, and chatting innocently, to a nice couple of a similar age who also confessed to being “reasonably new to the scene, and quite shy as well”. As conversation slowed, Hubby took my hand and led me away into the first “viewing room” to see what was going on. As we stood watching two women eagerly entertaining a male companion on the bed in the mirrored room we were quickly joined by a confident single-guy standing next to me. He took my hand and guided it down to his side and squeezed my fingers around his hard cock which was poking out from the front of his trousers. I glanced across at Hubby who was just smiling at me, obviously already aware of what my hand was being coaxed into doing. I felt uneasy though and not particularly aroused by my new companion and so made my apologies and asked Hubby if he could top me up with another wine. As we walked back towards the bar we both noticed that the nice couple we’d been chatting with earlier had been joined by a young man standing in front of them with his trousers dropped to his ankles. The lady of our couple was busy sucking back and forth on their new companions erection. Hubby said “perhaps she’s not so shy after all!”.

We spent the next hour or so at the Bar being engaged in conversation, and propositions, with several single guys. Although I was flattered, and excited, by their attentions, I somehow didn’t feel quite “aroused enough”. I kept whispering to Hubby that I was “really sorry, I just don’t feel right about them at the moment”. He kept telling me it was fine and there was absolutely no pressure and that we could go home if I wanted. I was just beginning to feel that maybe that would be how our night would be ending, when we were joined by our “nice couple”. They’d come to the bar to top-up their own drinks and we resumed our conversation. Neither Hubby, nor myself, mentioned that we’d seen them earlier, but as we chatted more I felt myself becoming more and more at ease, and aroused, in their company. I whispered to Hubby that perhaps he could check to see if the mirrored room was “free” and he quickly disappeared, returning a few minutes later, smiling and nodding his head. I don’t know how I actually managed it, but with my senses racing I turned back to our new friends and said “would you like to join us in the mirror room?”. They accepted immediately and minutes later I found myself crawling across the bed and arranging the cushions whilst Hubby locked the door behind us. He, and A (the husband) both stood at the end of the bed undressing whilst B (the wife) crawled across the bed to join me.

Though I’ve often fantasised about being with another woman before I’d never actually found myself in a situation for it to happen. Suddenly here I was with B gently caressing and then kissing me. My head was spinning as her husband A joined her and I felt both their hands lifting my dress off over my head. B leant forward and started kissing and licking at my nipples whilst A was kissing my neck and back from behind. I had my eyes tightly shut and wasn’t even thinking about where Hubby was or what he was doing. I knew I was now completely in my “private zone”, conscious of being turned onto my back and having my legs spread and g-string pulled off under my hips, but not knowing at first whose lips were sucking at my nipples, and whose tongue was lapping over my pussy and button. I knew there would be eyes looking in at us through the one-way mirror window, and I felt the bed sinking slightly with the weight of Hubby now joining us on the bed. (He told me later he’d been shaking so much with the excitement of seeing me with them that he’d had trouble opening and releasing the condoms from their packets).

I could tell from the pressure of the tongue, and heavy breathing from between my legs that it was A who was tonguing and then fingering my pussy. His wife had lifted her face away from my nipples and was now gently squeezing them with her fingers as she lifted up to kiss me again. I felt my own hands cupping her breasts and then leaning forward to suck at them. I was just dizzy and swooning with all the magic sensations of what I knew I was doing and what was being done to me.

B moved away from me, I could feel her shifting on the bed. I was groaning with the wonderful feelings of her husband sliding his fingers in and out of me and his tongue flicking over and over my button and lips. I forced myself to open my eyes and could see B lying back next to me now with my own Hubby’s head buried between her legs. She looked across at me smiling and reached over to stroke at my nipples again. I was gasping and shuddering and coming with all the sights and sounds and feelings of what was happening.

I’m not sure how many times we changed positions . . . I know I pulled A up on me, groaning at him to “fuck my cunt” and gasping wildly and loudly as he did . . . and I felt his wife leaning over his shoulder and sucking at my nipples again. I felt excited and completely abandoned to the passion and naughtiness of my own voice . . . and the gasps and groans of all of us. I was aroused and excited by my own lack of shame, knowing I was loving every thrust and knowing more sets of eyes than our own were watching through that window.

A had turned me over . . . I willingly knelt forward on my knees lifting my body forward to eagerly accept the kisses of B as she lay on her back and reached up to caress me and lift her face closer to mine as Hubby knelt over her and was pumping vigorously between her legs. I could hear his grunts and groans that I know so well, and as I slid my lips over her nipple I could feel her body shuddering with each of his thrusts. I had to lift my lips away from B though to gasp out loudly as I felt A pushing his cock into me from behind. He was holding my hips at first, as he stroked into my pussy, but then I felt him lift one hand away and suddenly his finger was probing and circling my bottom-hole.

I don’t always enjoy my bottom being fingered. I have to be completely relaxed and in the right frame of mind, and usually . . . when Hubby starts playing with me there, I have to be gently coerced and stroked and licked at first. But here was A, a complete stranger, gently and slowly pushing his finger into my bottom. I was gasping and groaning “Fucking hell, oh fucking, fucking hell”. Not resisting, not pulling away . . . but instead pushing myself back on him and feeling and sensing his finger pushing through the membrane against his own cock slowly stroking in and out of my pussy. Hubby and B had stopped their own coupling now. I could sense them both sitting up. I opened my eyes and looked across at Hubby, he was kneeling up, his cock wobbling upright and glistening with her juices on the stretched-skin of his condom. She was sitting up on her elbows smiling across at me. I closed my eyes, conscious of my gasps getting louder. I heard her ask “is he bumming you?” I blurted out “fucking hell yes”. I heard A asking Hubby “is she alright with this?” I groaned an answer before Hubby could reply “fucking love it!!”. B had reached up again to try and kiss me, but I was coming with such force and loud shrieks of release as I pulled forward away from his finger and cock, that I fell forward onto her chest. She collapsed under me as I lay across her and I could feel her body shaking again as Hubby had vigorously resumed his stroking into her. She was gasping and groaning now too and clasping her arms around my shoulders and squeezing me into her.

The feeling was so intense that I couldn’t move at first. I could feel A getting off the bed behind us, and then Hubby sitting down next to me at first and then gently helping me to lift myself off of B. I was babbling and apologising at the same time. Hubby was kissing my shoulder and arm and telling me “it is just amazing”. B sat up and leant forward to kiss me as I sat down on my bottom, “yes, it was amazing”.

We all sat together on the bed for some minutes, each recovering. Normally after such an intense come I’d be rolling onto my tummy and falling into a deep sleep. But of course, in this sort of situation, that just wasn’t going to be possible. “We should be getting ourselves dressed and letting someone else use the room” Hubby was saying. A laughed and said “I think we’ve put on a pretty good show for everybody actually”. Hearing him saying that suddenly brought me back down-to-earth and I quickly crawled off the bed to join him and Hubby as they were pulling their clothes on. B had sat up too and as we sorted out whose g-string belonged to who, a fit of giggles helped relieve my embarrassment at the noises I knew I’d been making. As we walked back to the bar it felt as though every head was turning with knowing grins as we walked past.

It had been a truly amazing, incredible experience. Something I’d never imagined I’d ever be doing in such a public way and with (almost) complete strangers. We all stood at the bar in a sort of embarrassed silence at first, before polite conversation returned. We complemented each other on how much fun it had been and agreed that we’d have to let each other know the next time we planned to come back to The Club again. It seemed a slightly awkward, self-conscious, way to end the night with such goodbyes really . . . but for Hubby and I, it had been one of the most amazing experiences we’ve ever shared . . . and one which we’ve wildly re-lived together on our own, several times over the past fortnight!!!

 

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Lover No. Two

I promised in my first post to add “recollections” from the past few years of my occasional lovers and just how we got to where we are today.

This IS linked in that it involves one of my current lovers (pre-swinging adventures), BUT in fact happened just this past week!!

One of the benefits of having a lover who is self-employed and has his own office, is that we can often meet at short-notice and on a spur-of-the-moment whim or tease.

That is exactly what happened when Lover Two called me on my way into work on Monday. He wanted to meet up sometime this week for a meal and night out but I was already committed to other (boring) things on both of the nights that he was suggesting. He teasingly said “Ok, how about coming round to the office now. I’ll switch off the phones for an hour”.

Although I much prefer a hotel room and a longer more leisurely evening, we’d had similar “quickies” in his office before, and there’s something that I must admit I do find quite thrilling and risque about occasionally letting myself go in those sort of circumstances. I told him I’d pop round “just for a little kiss and cuddle” then.

I rang into work to tell my colleagues I’d been delayed and would be an hour or so late, and quickly changed lines a few stops later. Hurrying through the rest of the tube-commuters I already felt quite excited by my “naughtiness” as the rest of the crowd were all scurrying off to their work, I was scurrying off for something entirely different! I thought about texting hubby as I exited the underground, but a taxi was right there, and it was only a short journey to Lover Two’s office . . . and the cabby was full of chat and distracting, so hubby would have to wait. It would be a nice surprise for him when he got home that night!

Lover Two met me at the main doors and led me upstairs to his office. We’d used his sofa on a few occasions before, but it still felt different and “dirty” and “exciting”. We fumbled and caressed and kissed and unclipped and unzipped each other. He pulled my knickers off completely and threw them across the room behind us. His cock was almost bursting out of his pants as I pulled and worked it free. The passion was actually quite overwhelming and I actually came in just a few minutes, just from his fingers sliding in and out of me and his lips sucking and scraping at my breasts which he’d freed from my bra and unbuttoned blouse.

I lay back on the sofa whilst he stood and slid off his trousers and pants, and thankfully his shoes and socks. I started to pull at my skirt, lifting my hips so that he could pull it off me, but he told me he wanted me to keep it on, and my hold-ups. He told me to turn over on my tummy and brought my knees down onto the floor so that I was actually leaning forward onto the seat of the sofa. I felt him kneeling down behind me and spreading my cheeks apart. Then I felt him pushing into me. “You’re always so wet” he was whispering into my ear. “I love it, I love you filling my juicy cunt” I groaned in response. I know he loves hearing me talk this way to him . . . and I do so love “talking dirty” when I’m really in the mood.

He was only pumping for a few minutes, and I could tell from his breathing getting louder and quicker that he was going to come. He was holding each of my hips and thrusting vigorously . . . but he knows I don’t like him coming inside. He pulled out and spun me round by my shoulders, stepping over me and pushing his erection towards my face. I leant forward and swallowed him into my mouth. He was gasping and groaning and holding my head tightly against him. I heard, and then felt him coming, swallowing it down as he continued holding my head. I knew he wouldn’t release until he’d finished his shuddering . . . finally pulling away and lifting me up to my feet. “God that was so nice” he said. Our tongues swirled in each others mouths as we kissed and clung to each other. Finally pulling away from each other we started to regain our composure. He pulled his pants and trousers back on and sat down on the sofa to put his shoes and socks back on. I’d re-adjusted my bra and skirt and started searching for my knickers behind the sofa. He found them first “let me keep them!” he teased, dodging my thrusts as I tried to get them back. “You could go commando all day” he laughed. I told him that would be very naughty and very horny, but I’d probably end up “dribbling, and that wouldn’t be comfortable”.

He called me a taxi . . . I was only going to be an hour and a half late for work . . . as I walked up the stairs to my own office I tried to compose myself and appear as normal as I could. But I couldn’t stop thinking about such an exciting start to the week, and couldn’t wait until I could tell hubby about it when he got home, and, yes, I WAS dribbling during the day.

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Dipping our toes, and falling in

This, and “possibly”, some following posts will probably take the form of a little mini-diary of our new adventures as we all of a sudden seem to be broadening our horizons.

It’s taken me a long, long time to take the plunge . . . but now I must admit that I’m simply loving it and I want to try so much more. (In the meantime, until I can write more on my previous affairs and long-term lover(s), the “I just love sex . . . the more I have, the more I want” tab will provide a little background on how we came to get to where we are now.)

Although my husband has always benefitted from hearing ALL of the details of my meetings with my lovers over the years, he’s continually talked about wanting to actually “see” me with another man.

Our sex is always wonderful immediately after one of my “nights out”. And hearing, and sometimes suggestively teasing him, about his fantasy made our passion even more extreme and explosive. And I have to admit that I became more and more excited by his fantasy, and we came more and more to talk about it both during, and after, the wildest of our “aftermath” sessions.

But I just couldn’t bring myself to mention it to my lover(s). It felt in a silly sort of way, that to mention it to them would be almost like “cheating” on them! So I resigned myself to (our) my fantasies and continued to enjoy my, already, “alternative”, lifestyle.

However, hubby kept mentioning, and talking, and cajoling . . . and countless DVDs and web-videos later, I finally worked-up the courage to agree to let him take me to our first Swinging Club. We were both petrified actually, and sat in the car for ages and ages before we agreed we’d “come this far”.

It WAS scary, awkward and embarrassing (and I’d clearly not dressed as provocatively as most of the other ladies present.) But, at the same time, we both found it wildly exciting and arousing.

No, we didn’t indulge! We were too self-conscious, too nervous and just not ready. But the people were all very nice and very welcoming and friendly. We returned home in the early hours . . . and didn’t sleep!

Over the next four months we re-visited several times more, becoming a little bolder in my attire (and enjoying it so much!!!) and a little bolder in our actions together. But we still didn’t indulge . . . until last week!

We’d both gone past the pressure of feeling we had to do anything. We were just voyeurs, enjoying the atmosphere and taking our excitement and arousal and passion home with us. Home alone. And then it just happened. A lovely young man sitting and talking to us at the bar. Cheeky and engaging, but interesting and . . . well . . . “hot” actually. An hour of chatting and teasing, and my hubby whispering in my ear “you know you want to, and I’m sure he wants to”. Hubby asked him if he’d care to join us in one of the private rooms. He said he’d love to.

I was swooning in minutes, lost completely in his kisses and caresses. I squeezed my eyes tightly closed, conscious of nothing but his fingers touch and probing, and his hot breath on my breasts and pussy. I willingly let him undress me, reaching out to squeeze my husbands hand (already naked beside us), and closed my mind to everything else. Everything but the excitement of knowing that here was a young man (almost half my age), stroking, kissing, sucking and then . . . slowly fucking into me. I knew hubby had passed him one of the condoms that we’d been bringing in vain for all of our previous visits. But I wasn’t conscious of the difference in feeling . . . I was completely away in my zone of passion and surrender. Loving the feelings, the sensations of complete abandonment.

My husband tells me I was making the most “amazing gasps and groans” and exclaiming “I fucking love that” and “oh that’s so nice” and numerous other grunts and groans of encouragement. All I can remember is feeling wonderfully wanton . . . loving the feeling of his thrusts and repeated poundings. I came and came . . . and after he withdrew, I wanted his cock in my mouth. He pulled the condom off and knelt beside my head. It was wonderful, smooth and thick . . . and hot from my pussy. Hubby was between my legs now, first licking and tonguing me where minutes before my young man’s smooth dick had been pumping. Then pushing his own cock into me, thrusting and pumping as quickly as vigorously as he ever has. I could feel him too, but was lost in my devouring of my new lovers hot cock.

We twisted and turned and they swapped places . . . lifting me up on my knees and bringing me to another shuddering and exhausting come. I can’t remember how long we were there, I can’t remember all we did, or how we even ended. My head was spinning from the excitement, the sensations . . . and the shock and joy at what I’d / we’d just done.

I loved it . . . simply loved it . . . and now I’ve started, I know I so need, and so want, more !!!

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I just love sex . . .

Over the past few years my personal life has exploded from a wonderful liberated, but monogamous, marriage . . . into an amazing journey of occasional lovers and, most recently, experiencing a full “swinging” lifestyle.

My husband and I have always enjoyed a wonderfully loving, open and sexually adventurous relationship. We tried most things together and regularly enjoyed evenings of play and fun. Our love for each other was complete and never in question.

And yet, I still strayed. Un-expected, un-planned . . . something I never thought I (of all people) would, or could, ever do. And yet it happened. Lunchtime coffees with a work colleague, turned into evening meals, turned into . . .

Someone else liked me! Wanted me! Aroused me! Excited me! I couldn’t help myself . . . even the complete feelings of guilt and shame in the aftermath, couldn’t stop me. I enjoyed it, I wanted it, I needed it.

My husband insists he suspected / knew right from the start . . . but for several months said nothing. Our own sex (after my “meetings”) were passionate and more fulfilling than ever. And with pangs of guilt the next morning, I would tell myself I would stop my affair, I didn’t need it, it was wrong, it was immoral.

But I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t say no, I couldn’t refuse, I couldn’t deny it . . .

. . . just as I couldn’t deny it the day my husband confronted me with “the question”.

I thought it would shatter our world. I thought it would be the end of our marriage, an explosive argument, floods of tears and abusive. But INSTEAD my husband told me he LOVED it . . . he LOVED the fact that I could experience the excitement and thrills of sexual adventure and pleasure with another man.

That day changed our lives . . . it made us each better people . . . and it made our relationship EVEN stronger and more loving and more fulfilling than either of us could ever have imagined.

That day was over 25 years ago!!! The different months and years (and yes different lovers) since have been a wonderful and incredible adventure . . . and new chapters continue to open before us.

I hope this blog may not only be a diary, a record, of some of the events and wonderful adventures we have experienced . . . but ALSO serve as an inspiration for people to understand that to express one-self, to completely open-up and admit all those inner sexual desires and emotions and fantasies . . . is not only a simple, basic part of your human nature, it is also your basic human right !!!

The names here have all been changed to protect the “not-so-innocent”.

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