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.
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