If I accept my husband's proposition that I let other men to fuck me, especially handsome, well-built men with large cocks, my husband will certainly thereafter say that he's earned the right to fuck another woman. Right?
Assuming I enjoy having studly men inside me (I do), and assuming my husband allows me to enjoy this privilege (which I didn't ask for), he will expect me to reciprocate and "allow" him to enjoy other women. It only makes sense. And I'm not up for that. In fact, there's no way in hell that I'm going to agree to something, anything, that enables my husband to fuck other women. As I said earlier, I enjoy and expect monogamous relationships.
If felt a like a con. I trusted my husband and wanted to believe him, but c'mon, reciprocation is the way of the world. So no, I won't do what my husband is asking for, lest I open a Pandora's box and create hurt feelings and resentments down the line.
At least, that was my initial reasoning process.
Even after he finally persuaded me to dabble in it, I kept looking for signs of his "true motive." I mean, he's a guy, and like any guy, he wants to lay women all over the place. He even admits to it -- to the urge, that is. He "gets it" as to why guys with so much to lose, up to and including the presidency itself, would lay it all on the line to bang some woman he hardly knows. But as for his ability or inability to keep his pants zipped up around other women, he assured me he was as strong as any husband. He too expects monogamy, from himself and from me (I'll explain that one in a later post). So he assured me he had no ulterior motive, that he would not use my playing as a pretext for him to play.
Did I believe him? Not at first. It seemed too good to be true, and you know what they say about those offers. But after long consideration, I dabbled. I let situations with other generally-monogamous couples run their course in hottubs and at parties, and eventually one or two descended into some soft play action. My husband was an oak, not in the hard cock way but rather in the virtuous way. He never used a situation to his advantage other than to shower me with attention and to play with me.
It took me a while, and several initial play opportunities, to reconcile my preconceptions with what I was seeing unfold. My husband was getting off on me. He was aroused by my sexual adventures. Sure, he enjoyed watching nude women on the occasions there were some around, but that wasn't his focus. He adhered strictly to my prohibition on his having sex with other women without wavering. That was the deal. It was the only way I would even consider venturing outside the normal structure of a marriage.
After longer still, he convinced me that he wasn't struggling to contain himself. He didn't have to use incredible willpower and self-control to not try to create couple-on-couple swinging situations. Those opportunities abound; in fact, it's easier to arrange couple-on-couple than to find an available studly guy who isn't freaked out by the request. Yet my husband has shown me over and over, and I'm completely convinced now, that he really is excited by my sexual prowess. He still oogles other women discretely and rewinds DVDs to catch the starlet's nude scene a couple of times, exactly as any married uber-guy would, but it's exactly as if we were in a completely traditional marriage -- except that every once in a while another man pulls his spent cock out of his wife's pussy. And he loves me for it.
December 31, 2011
December 23, 2011
Reluctant Because of Jealously
I expected my having sex with another man would provoke uncontrollable jealously in my husband. But it turned out not to.
My husband first brought up the topic in a round-about way. He didn't just come out and say he liked it. Rather, he asked about prior boyfriends and lovers, those I'd been with before I met him. When it came to men I was smitten with, or loved or thought I loved, he heard about them but moved on without dwelling. But when it came to flings, he wanted all the details.
I had made him work for me. I didn't have sex with my husband on our first date, or second date. In fact, he was getting the impression I'd be very hard to land. So he went all out and turned up the romance big-time. It helped that he apparently liked my personality as much as my body, lol. So when he went totally over-the-top after one of our courtship dates, I finally let him enjoy me.
Somehow, finding out that, unlike him, it hadn't been difficult for some men in my past to bed me drove him crazy.
I wasn't exactly loose. I had had a few boyfriends, but not a ridiculous number. Plus I'd had a couple of flings. Mostly, those were guys I thought I'd be dating a while and went ahead and had sex with them the first night expecting them to be lured permanently by my charms; but alas they wanted to orgasm inside a woman more than they wanted a relationship. So I stopped that tactic and switched to far greater screening--such as my husband was subjected to. For a while, actually, truth be told, I thought perhaps I wasn't a good lover. This was because so many of my prospective boyfriends often bailed immediately after having sex with me. But later, after my husband introduced me to hotwifing, I discovered from other guys -- those whom had no expectations of dating me, only the privilege of cumming in me -- that I was, in fact, pretty good. They keep texting and emailing me asking for more. :-)
But I digress. I was in my youth when I let guys pick up on me and have sex with me that same night. Once, a guy I liked wound up inviting his friend over to hang out; a guy I had never met but whom turned out to be rather cute, and after some casual hanging out coupled with some libations, I let them both do me at the same time. These were episodes I'd long since forgotten and didn't particularly have any urge to recall by the time I met my husband. But he wanted all the details. I gave him the ten thousand foot view, but he kept asking for more and more specifics. I'm not a great storyteller, but nonetheless he was incredibly turned on by my recounting times when I was an easy fuck for some lucky guy I didn't know that very morning. I didn't like thinking myself in that way, but rather chalked it up to the immaturity of youth. He, on the other hand, seemed to go crazy (in an erotic good way) at the thought of other guys who weren't required to work at getting me undressed, those for whom my clothes went off at the first suggestion. The unfairness of it all!
I expected jealousy.
I expected him to hate those stories and those men, or at least disapprove and want to avoid. Boy was I wrong. On a couple of occasions, we wound up at a place where a past boyfriend was also present. He relished that he was now my man and made sure everyone knew it, but didn't let on to those past lovers that he knew anything of them. Thus, I was free to hang out with them and mingle as I'd mingle with any social acquaintances Hubby encouraged this mingling, and although it didn't lead to any repeat adventures, he enjoyed knowing those men had previously been inside me.
I wasn't sure how to take all of this. I was glad I didn't have one of those lunatic jealous guys as a new boyfriend and future husband, but I couldn't understand why he wasn't jealous at all? Aren't men *supposed* to be jealous of their wife's past lovers? Doesn't a lack of jealousy indicate he isn't as deeply in love with me as I thought he was?
Well, after several times of his telling me--no one conversation served to convince me of anything--he explained there were a couple of factors he realized were involved. First, he had what they didn't. They may have enjoyed my pussy at one point, but it's his now. They don't go to bed every night with my body next to them, he does. They don't cum in me at every urge, he does. This goes a long way towards his accepting their temporary use of my body, as he "wins," so to speak. He told me that the Men are from Mars book was largely correct: men are all about hierarchy, establishing it and rising within it. The more pleasure a man other than my husband gets from using my body, the more that man wants to repeat the pleasure and wants increased access, but can't have it--at least, not when or as often as they'd like--so my husband maintains the superior position in that regard. This, he explained, offsets the position of superiority the other man automatically has as a result of having been one of the few who have been given access to his wife's pussy. It maintains a balance that keeps everyone okay with their role, my husband included.
The second factor my husband told me was happening was, in fact, a strong jealousy. It's just that as a civilized man, it wasn't being directed towards anger and violence; but rather towards his feeling a deep biological need to "reclaim me." He likened it to a jousting event in which I was the prize queen. The man who unseats the other rider wins the hand of the queen. Each and every time some man inserted his lance deep into my womb and orgasmed, shooting his sperm inside my pussy, he unseated my husband. Apparently, my husband is genetically wired to be the alpha-male, the conqueror, and must -- absolutely must -- thrust his lance into my pussy and cum harder and more voluminous than that last knight. This is how he creates the rematch in which he emerges the victor. (No, we're not into renaissance reenacting...it's a metaphor.) The effect of all this is that his jealousy goes straight to his testicles. Whenever there is another man who has taken me, or I talk of another man who has previously had use of my body, he cums huge. HUGE! I mean in terms of volume of sperm. It's enormous. I'm drenched. And he shoots it deep. And groans loudly! He says they are the most powerful orgasms he has experienced. He claims, and all evidence supports this, that his entire body gets into the explosion, with all his lower trunk muscles compressing simultaneously, all with the goal of launching his cum hard and deep into my womb.
My husband's member is not large. It's adequate. But hey, it's no problem for me...I'm a clit girl. More precisely, I need clitoral stimulation to orgasm. It's way better if my pussy is also spread by and being stroked by a hard cock, but depth doesn't matter and breadth isn't a big factor either. So I'm fully satisfied by my husband. However, some of the other guys out there, especially those that make themselves available to married women, especially BBCs, have very large cocks indeed. They are girthy, and they are very long. So when they pump in and out of me, they reach up and feel parts of me my husband will never ever experience. Whey they cum, their sperm shoots into a deep part of my pussy that my husband's cock can't reach. My husband's well aware of this limitation. He says it's the reason his body has such incredible, consuming orgasms during "take-backs," those times when he's getting sloppy seconds and wants to reclaim my pussy as his. Whenever another man's cum is deep in me, up to my cervix in some cases, my husband feels the only way he can remove the claims of that other man on my pussy is to wash it completely out with his cum, replacing that man's cum with his.
This is why, he tells me, his body explodes. And it does. I had never seen anything like it. I rarely feel a guy's cum shooting in me. I feel the throb, and enjoy that part of it, but when my husband started his take-back sex--holy cow--I felt that! He always orgasms deep inside me, at least, as deep as he can go ;-). But on occasion, he pulls out just to show off. The first time this happened, I was expecting a dribble on my camel toe, just like anytime he cums on me or in my mouth, for example. But whoa Nelly, on this occasion his cum shot out as if from a canon. It streamed across my belly and tits, over my face, and actually hit the wall behind me. I've never seen anything like that! My husband isn't a porn star. But on this occasion, and according to him on every take-back occasion, he launches. It takes every part of his body's muscular system to create that force, and so every part of his body squeezes and tenses as he explodes.
And another effect is his accelerated recovery time. Normally we have sex like every other married couple...whenever we can fit it into our busy lives. And that's fine for both of us. But after sex, we return to our busy to-do list--or go to sleep if it's late at night. Even when we set aside an evening devoted to each other (i.e. babysitter), it's hard not to let our focus wander, even if it's to the movie we rented for entertainment. But after another man has cum in me, look out; my husband becomes an animal. A gentle, loving, but very task-oriented animal who is focused on one thing only: cumming as much as possible inside me to reclaim me. After the first bucket is emptied inside me from his pent-up balls, he defies belief with how quickly his hard-on resumes and is ready to enter me again within a few minutes. The second orgasm is nearly as strong as the first. Real-life doesn't exist for him in those times; only the vision of that other man's cock buried inside his wife's pussy as it shoots its jism up in me. I don't think he'd hear police pounding on the door during those hours.
In the end, he convinced me of the truth of his emotions. Becoming a hotwife was a way for me to dramatically increase his sexual pleasure. It didn't require him to veer outside of our marriage; to the contrary, it keeps his focus very much on me as the source of his pleasure. It lets him strut like a peacock that his wife is a woman coveted by others, and it makes him very grateful to be my husband. All of these things benefit me and our marriage.
My husband first brought up the topic in a round-about way. He didn't just come out and say he liked it. Rather, he asked about prior boyfriends and lovers, those I'd been with before I met him. When it came to men I was smitten with, or loved or thought I loved, he heard about them but moved on without dwelling. But when it came to flings, he wanted all the details.
I had made him work for me. I didn't have sex with my husband on our first date, or second date. In fact, he was getting the impression I'd be very hard to land. So he went all out and turned up the romance big-time. It helped that he apparently liked my personality as much as my body, lol. So when he went totally over-the-top after one of our courtship dates, I finally let him enjoy me.
Somehow, finding out that, unlike him, it hadn't been difficult for some men in my past to bed me drove him crazy.
I wasn't exactly loose. I had had a few boyfriends, but not a ridiculous number. Plus I'd had a couple of flings. Mostly, those were guys I thought I'd be dating a while and went ahead and had sex with them the first night expecting them to be lured permanently by my charms; but alas they wanted to orgasm inside a woman more than they wanted a relationship. So I stopped that tactic and switched to far greater screening--such as my husband was subjected to. For a while, actually, truth be told, I thought perhaps I wasn't a good lover. This was because so many of my prospective boyfriends often bailed immediately after having sex with me. But later, after my husband introduced me to hotwifing, I discovered from other guys -- those whom had no expectations of dating me, only the privilege of cumming in me -- that I was, in fact, pretty good. They keep texting and emailing me asking for more. :-)
But I digress. I was in my youth when I let guys pick up on me and have sex with me that same night. Once, a guy I liked wound up inviting his friend over to hang out; a guy I had never met but whom turned out to be rather cute, and after some casual hanging out coupled with some libations, I let them both do me at the same time. These were episodes I'd long since forgotten and didn't particularly have any urge to recall by the time I met my husband. But he wanted all the details. I gave him the ten thousand foot view, but he kept asking for more and more specifics. I'm not a great storyteller, but nonetheless he was incredibly turned on by my recounting times when I was an easy fuck for some lucky guy I didn't know that very morning. I didn't like thinking myself in that way, but rather chalked it up to the immaturity of youth. He, on the other hand, seemed to go crazy (in an erotic good way) at the thought of other guys who weren't required to work at getting me undressed, those for whom my clothes went off at the first suggestion. The unfairness of it all!
I expected jealousy.
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| Could my husband really handle seeing this? Did he know what he was getting himself into? (This hotwife is being plunged by a stud BBC) |
I expected him to hate those stories and those men, or at least disapprove and want to avoid. Boy was I wrong. On a couple of occasions, we wound up at a place where a past boyfriend was also present. He relished that he was now my man and made sure everyone knew it, but didn't let on to those past lovers that he knew anything of them. Thus, I was free to hang out with them and mingle as I'd mingle with any social acquaintances Hubby encouraged this mingling, and although it didn't lead to any repeat adventures, he enjoyed knowing those men had previously been inside me.
I wasn't sure how to take all of this. I was glad I didn't have one of those lunatic jealous guys as a new boyfriend and future husband, but I couldn't understand why he wasn't jealous at all? Aren't men *supposed* to be jealous of their wife's past lovers? Doesn't a lack of jealousy indicate he isn't as deeply in love with me as I thought he was?
Well, after several times of his telling me--no one conversation served to convince me of anything--he explained there were a couple of factors he realized were involved. First, he had what they didn't. They may have enjoyed my pussy at one point, but it's his now. They don't go to bed every night with my body next to them, he does. They don't cum in me at every urge, he does. This goes a long way towards his accepting their temporary use of my body, as he "wins," so to speak. He told me that the Men are from Mars book was largely correct: men are all about hierarchy, establishing it and rising within it. The more pleasure a man other than my husband gets from using my body, the more that man wants to repeat the pleasure and wants increased access, but can't have it--at least, not when or as often as they'd like--so my husband maintains the superior position in that regard. This, he explained, offsets the position of superiority the other man automatically has as a result of having been one of the few who have been given access to his wife's pussy. It maintains a balance that keeps everyone okay with their role, my husband included.
The second factor my husband told me was happening was, in fact, a strong jealousy. It's just that as a civilized man, it wasn't being directed towards anger and violence; but rather towards his feeling a deep biological need to "reclaim me." He likened it to a jousting event in which I was the prize queen. The man who unseats the other rider wins the hand of the queen. Each and every time some man inserted his lance deep into my womb and orgasmed, shooting his sperm inside my pussy, he unseated my husband. Apparently, my husband is genetically wired to be the alpha-male, the conqueror, and must -- absolutely must -- thrust his lance into my pussy and cum harder and more voluminous than that last knight. This is how he creates the rematch in which he emerges the victor. (No, we're not into renaissance reenacting...it's a metaphor.) The effect of all this is that his jealousy goes straight to his testicles. Whenever there is another man who has taken me, or I talk of another man who has previously had use of my body, he cums huge. HUGE! I mean in terms of volume of sperm. It's enormous. I'm drenched. And he shoots it deep. And groans loudly! He says they are the most powerful orgasms he has experienced. He claims, and all evidence supports this, that his entire body gets into the explosion, with all his lower trunk muscles compressing simultaneously, all with the goal of launching his cum hard and deep into my womb.
My husband's member is not large. It's adequate. But hey, it's no problem for me...I'm a clit girl. More precisely, I need clitoral stimulation to orgasm. It's way better if my pussy is also spread by and being stroked by a hard cock, but depth doesn't matter and breadth isn't a big factor either. So I'm fully satisfied by my husband. However, some of the other guys out there, especially those that make themselves available to married women, especially BBCs, have very large cocks indeed. They are girthy, and they are very long. So when they pump in and out of me, they reach up and feel parts of me my husband will never ever experience. Whey they cum, their sperm shoots into a deep part of my pussy that my husband's cock can't reach. My husband's well aware of this limitation. He says it's the reason his body has such incredible, consuming orgasms during "take-backs," those times when he's getting sloppy seconds and wants to reclaim my pussy as his. Whenever another man's cum is deep in me, up to my cervix in some cases, my husband feels the only way he can remove the claims of that other man on my pussy is to wash it completely out with his cum, replacing that man's cum with his.
This is why, he tells me, his body explodes. And it does. I had never seen anything like it. I rarely feel a guy's cum shooting in me. I feel the throb, and enjoy that part of it, but when my husband started his take-back sex--holy cow--I felt that! He always orgasms deep inside me, at least, as deep as he can go ;-). But on occasion, he pulls out just to show off. The first time this happened, I was expecting a dribble on my camel toe, just like anytime he cums on me or in my mouth, for example. But whoa Nelly, on this occasion his cum shot out as if from a canon. It streamed across my belly and tits, over my face, and actually hit the wall behind me. I've never seen anything like that! My husband isn't a porn star. But on this occasion, and according to him on every take-back occasion, he launches. It takes every part of his body's muscular system to create that force, and so every part of his body squeezes and tenses as he explodes.
And another effect is his accelerated recovery time. Normally we have sex like every other married couple...whenever we can fit it into our busy lives. And that's fine for both of us. But after sex, we return to our busy to-do list--or go to sleep if it's late at night. Even when we set aside an evening devoted to each other (i.e. babysitter), it's hard not to let our focus wander, even if it's to the movie we rented for entertainment. But after another man has cum in me, look out; my husband becomes an animal. A gentle, loving, but very task-oriented animal who is focused on one thing only: cumming as much as possible inside me to reclaim me. After the first bucket is emptied inside me from his pent-up balls, he defies belief with how quickly his hard-on resumes and is ready to enter me again within a few minutes. The second orgasm is nearly as strong as the first. Real-life doesn't exist for him in those times; only the vision of that other man's cock buried inside his wife's pussy as it shoots its jism up in me. I don't think he'd hear police pounding on the door during those hours.
In the end, he convinced me of the truth of his emotions. Becoming a hotwife was a way for me to dramatically increase his sexual pleasure. It didn't require him to veer outside of our marriage; to the contrary, it keeps his focus very much on me as the source of his pleasure. It lets him strut like a peacock that his wife is a woman coveted by others, and it makes him very grateful to be my husband. All of these things benefit me and our marriage.
December 16, 2011
Reluctant Because I'm a Faithful Wife
I like traditional marriage. I like monogamy. I keeps our society ordered and our relationships healthy. No one wants to be the wife of John Edwards and deal with the "love child" or it's mom -- your new permanent family member and constant competitor for your spouse. No one wants to be the wife of Newt Gingrich (at least not the first two) and know that he'll probably have an affair, and worse, will leave you for that new woman. Affairs are dangerous because they sometimes lead to one of those two scenarios. Just ask Jennifer Aniston, Nicole Kidman, or the many many others. It seemingly can't be confined to nsa sex, with the spouse returning home with a smile; but rather there's strings, complications, emotions, or new-found dissatisfactions with the current partner. By comparison with the "new glow" good feelings towards the new fling, any wife may find herself appearing less attractive, and saddled with more annoyances, than the mysterious and sexual vixen that has the husband's attentions. That's why one of the tell-tale signs of an affair is the husband becoming less amorous towards a wife.
Plus, I respect myself. I want to keep respecting myself. I don't do illegal things. I live a good life and am very involved in raising my family, from my kids' sports to their schoolwork. I set a good example. Those unfaithful wives can't erase that stain on their moral character, even after disclosure and forgiveness. That's why it took me a while to become convinced by my husband that sex with permission isn't cheating, it isn't unfaithfulness. It's fulfilling his desires while potentially having some fun for myself. Oh, did I mention my husband was the impetus for my initially considering this path? It wasn't out of my lust...I was happy with the sex life I had with my husband, and he was always turned on by me and was fully satisfied.
My husband explained that men felt a desire for the thrill. There's an inherent thrill in coaxing a new woman into bed. There's a thrill in doing something taboo, even if it's an extra-cirricular affair. And the thrill is so alluring, so very fun, that men will risk everything to attain it. Think Bill Clinton. No matter the hotness of their wife, they'll seek the thrill. Hugh Grant anyone?
My husband told me he feels that same allure. He didn't give me an ultimatum, i.e. create thrills for him or he'll find them elsewhere; rather, he said he shared that same instinct, battled it successfully, but wanted to indulge it. Unlike alcohol or drug abuse, sex practiced safely is a natural product of our nature, so why suppress it? The risks are not in the sex act itself, but in the emotional consequences (assuming adequate protection from health issues and conception). So why, he asked, is our society structured such that a man is forced to seek his thrills from someone other than the woman he most enjoys, most lusts after -- his wife. The oft-quoted saying about the other woman doing things he would never ask his wife to do. Why? Why is a good wife and mom an inappropriate person to use her body for the pleasure of her and her man. Assuming the husband truly does derive pleasure from a wife's playing with a third-party, and assuming no emotional after-effect consequences (which I'll comment on in a forthcoming post), then why not do something to boost the enjoyment of your spouse? Better you're doing to the boosting than anyone else!
In my case, I opted to be the booster, the source of his fantasy fulfillment, the woman who could be wife and mom while also, in other moments, be an object of sexual lust for my husband and for other men.
Plus, I respect myself. I want to keep respecting myself. I don't do illegal things. I live a good life and am very involved in raising my family, from my kids' sports to their schoolwork. I set a good example. Those unfaithful wives can't erase that stain on their moral character, even after disclosure and forgiveness. That's why it took me a while to become convinced by my husband that sex with permission isn't cheating, it isn't unfaithfulness. It's fulfilling his desires while potentially having some fun for myself. Oh, did I mention my husband was the impetus for my initially considering this path? It wasn't out of my lust...I was happy with the sex life I had with my husband, and he was always turned on by me and was fully satisfied.
My husband explained that men felt a desire for the thrill. There's an inherent thrill in coaxing a new woman into bed. There's a thrill in doing something taboo, even if it's an extra-cirricular affair. And the thrill is so alluring, so very fun, that men will risk everything to attain it. Think Bill Clinton. No matter the hotness of their wife, they'll seek the thrill. Hugh Grant anyone?
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| This is my first ever BBC the first time I met him. This is the moment just as he's about to enter me. At the moment this was taken, I was a BBC virgin. |
My husband told me he feels that same allure. He didn't give me an ultimatum, i.e. create thrills for him or he'll find them elsewhere; rather, he said he shared that same instinct, battled it successfully, but wanted to indulge it. Unlike alcohol or drug abuse, sex practiced safely is a natural product of our nature, so why suppress it? The risks are not in the sex act itself, but in the emotional consequences (assuming adequate protection from health issues and conception). So why, he asked, is our society structured such that a man is forced to seek his thrills from someone other than the woman he most enjoys, most lusts after -- his wife. The oft-quoted saying about the other woman doing things he would never ask his wife to do. Why? Why is a good wife and mom an inappropriate person to use her body for the pleasure of her and her man. Assuming the husband truly does derive pleasure from a wife's playing with a third-party, and assuming no emotional after-effect consequences (which I'll comment on in a forthcoming post), then why not do something to boost the enjoyment of your spouse? Better you're doing to the boosting than anyone else!
In my case, I opted to be the booster, the source of his fantasy fulfillment, the woman who could be wife and mom while also, in other moments, be an object of sexual lust for my husband and for other men.
December 9, 2011
What this is...and don't bother preaching
I'm a real Caucasian woman. I'm the wife of a loving, doting husband. And I'm a mom, a very good mom. I'm fairly conservative, though not too religious. I have a career I take very seriously and work hard at. I'm not overtly sexual. I'm not a slut, a cock-whore, or a nymphomaniac. I don't have an open marriage and I don't consider myself a swinger. I like monogamy. I like to keep my sex-life behind closed bedroom doors and between consenting adults. I don't care for the trend of over-sexualization of teen-centric movies and music. I've always been completely fine with interracial dating and marriage for others, but was never personally interested. Prior to my marriage, I was never attracted to black men. I'm not particularly attracted now, at least not in the wink-wink OMG way some women appear to be mesmerized by their large cocks. My husband's diminutive member is just fine for me, thank you very much. In fact, large often hurts. I've been told I'm rather tight and that's good for my husband, and I never wanted to stretch myself out lest I not be as pleasurable to him.
So much for not wanting to be stretched out. I've been plunged to the hilt by some truly enormous cocks. Luckily for my husband, we've discovered I bounce back, tight as ever.
So how did I get from here to there? How did a satisfied monogamous wife with no interest in extra-marital activities become a sex toy for BBCs?
Two words: my husband.
I need to be clear, my husband was not trying to push me to have sexual dalliances with black men. He knew I wasn't interested and steered clear of that. But he did want me to have sex with another man, although it took him some time to even broach that topic. And I wasn't on-board with that idea at all.
I'll tell you how we got started in an upcoming post. For now, I'll close this post with the following rejoinder:
I don't want to hear it.
You are offended by my lifestyle? Too bad. I suggest if you don't like it, don't do it in your relationship. I don't want to hear it.
You think I'm corrupting society/children/the institution of marriage? Nope, my sex life, other than this anonymous blog, is private to me. My family (other than my husband) has no idea whatever. So I don't want to hear it.
You're certain I'm going to hell/offending God/committing sacrilegious acts? Keep your religion to yourself, I don't want to hear it.
I'm going to catch a terrible disease? There's a non-zero chance of that possibility, but it's an incredibly low chance. I'm healthy and clean, use no drugs and have no addictions. The world of people I float in are similar to me. I may also get E.coli from the local burger joint, die in a head-on collision with a drunk driver, catch the latest deadly flu variant, get stung by migrating African bee swarms, or get crushed in a building collapse when SoCal gets hit by the "the big one." Hey, you know what? I'm going to use reasonable caution and proceed. You may choose a different path. I don't need your warnings. I don't want to hear it.
So much for not wanting to be stretched out. I've been plunged to the hilt by some truly enormous cocks. Luckily for my husband, we've discovered I bounce back, tight as ever.
So how did I get from here to there? How did a satisfied monogamous wife with no interest in extra-marital activities become a sex toy for BBCs?
Two words: my husband.
I need to be clear, my husband was not trying to push me to have sexual dalliances with black men. He knew I wasn't interested and steered clear of that. But he did want me to have sex with another man, although it took him some time to even broach that topic. And I wasn't on-board with that idea at all.
I'll tell you how we got started in an upcoming post. For now, I'll close this post with the following rejoinder:
I don't want to hear it.
You are offended by my lifestyle? Too bad. I suggest if you don't like it, don't do it in your relationship. I don't want to hear it.
You think I'm corrupting society/children/the institution of marriage? Nope, my sex life, other than this anonymous blog, is private to me. My family (other than my husband) has no idea whatever. So I don't want to hear it.
You're certain I'm going to hell/offending God/committing sacrilegious acts? Keep your religion to yourself, I don't want to hear it.
I'm going to catch a terrible disease? There's a non-zero chance of that possibility, but it's an incredibly low chance. I'm healthy and clean, use no drugs and have no addictions. The world of people I float in are similar to me. I may also get E.coli from the local burger joint, die in a head-on collision with a drunk driver, catch the latest deadly flu variant, get stung by migrating African bee swarms, or get crushed in a building collapse when SoCal gets hit by the "the big one." Hey, you know what? I'm going to use reasonable caution and proceed. You may choose a different path. I don't need your warnings. I don't want to hear it.
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