I’d only been married five years when my husband and I started talking about having sex with others. It wasn’t a cataclysmic event in our lives that started us discussing an open marriage. No traumatic soul searching experience prompted us to reevaluate our relationship. What it was was restlessness, particularly mine. Blame it on getting married too young (I was 22) or reading too many stories like I’m writing now, but I felt like I was missing out on a lot.
Andrew and I had been sexually active before our marriage and monogamous after, finding fulfillment in each other’s arms. Oh, I looked, for sure, my pussy tingling as I ogled some well tanned, muscular lifeguard or took in the style and carriage of an obviously successful businessman ever so handsomely attired. But I never acted, choosing instead the familiar, comfortable and secure sex we had at home.
But after a while the looking and the fantasizing were no longer enough, so we sat down and talked it out, agreeing that while we both wanted to stay together, I needed the space, the freedom, to pursue sex outside our relationship. I’d be discreet, of course, careful not to embarrass him or arouse suspicions in those who simply wouldn’t understand. The freedom to seize those moments for pleasure outside our marriage, we agreed, would ultimately make our union that much stronger and satisfying. He, of course, was granted permission to explore as well, but I knew he probably wouldn’t. He was completely devoted to me and practically my slave in the bedroom. That was why it it was easy to get him to agree to my arrangement. “Cuckolding,” he called it.
It was surprisingly easy to get started. Even though I was honest and open about it all, I anticipated some guilt, some second thoughts, once the moment of truth arrived, but nothing of the sort occurred. My first extramarital flings happened while we were vacationing in the Caribbean. While Andrew was on the golf course, I reveled in the charms of a ruggedly attractive black charter boat captain. I returned to Andrew with a newfound zest for life, which was evidenced by the way we fucked the first time after our respective flings. It was as if I were sitting down at a banquet table filled with all sorts of goodies, and my first taste had been but an appetizer before the wonderful treats that awaited me. We were both made heady by the prospect of me gorging myself.
Today, three years later, Andrew and I are happier than we’ve ever been, and I’m still filling up on extramarital pleasure whenever the opportunity arises. As I write this, Andrew is on his way to Chicago for a convention and he’ll have the time to mix pleasure with business if he wants to. But he gets off more on me telling him about my adventures. As for me, my thoughts keep turning to my recent sexy escapade with a lanky, boyishly handsome guy named Troy.
I’m a real estate agent in Washington, and I met Troy and his bubbly wife, Jan, when they came into the office inquiring about a house we had listed for sale in the local paper. It was Troy’s playfulness, his youthful exuberance, that attracted me at first. With a craggy face, thin build and a shaggy mop of blond hair, he was far from my idea of the ideal lover, but if I found him wanting physically, I was taken by his boldness, his let’s live for the moment philosophy of life, which he was quick to state once we were alone in the master bedroom of the house they were interested in.
The owners, a couple I had known for years, were vacationing in Florida, but they had left me the keys so I could show their house. Jan was downstairs, still exploring the kitchen she had fallen in love with at first sight. Troy wasted no time making his move.
I was looking out the bedroom window and suggesting Troy come see the beautiful view when I suddenly felt him behind me. “I like this view much better,” he said. With his hands on my hips, he rubbed his face in my hair and started grinding into my bottom. “Let’s you and me grab a quickie. What do you say, beautiful lady?” I didn’t try to break away and I didn’t voice a protest, but I did ask about his wife downstairs. “Jan’s a doll,” Troy said quickly. “She and I have an understanding. She knows a horny guy like me needs a lot of pussy.”
Troy’s hands snaked around in front of me and latched onto my breasts. As he started kneading them through my sweater, I remembered the funny little smile Jan had given her husband as he left the kitchen. It was her way, I realized now, of giving Troy permission to try to put another notch in his belt. I smiled inwardly.
“…and your husband will never know,” Troy was saying, still squeezing my breasts, still grinding what felt like an unusually large bulge into my ass.
I chuckled. “Yes he will. I’ll tell him.”
I turned to face Troy. “We have what you call an understanding,” I said, smiling as I placed my hand on his swollen cock and squeezed.
A grin lit up on Troy’s face. “Well, hot damn. Then what are we waiting for?”
I couldn’t think of anything to wait for, not with my pussy all atingle and panties getting wetter by the second. Troy led me over to the bed and sat me down on it. As I unbuckled his belt, it occurred to me that three years before, before Lloyd and I decided to open our marriage, I would have politely but firmly rejected Troy’s advances, no matter how eager I might have been to fuck him. But now I was free to act impulsively where sex was concerned. Free to enjoy the beautifully big cock now staring me in the face.
“Suck it, baby,” Troy said thickly. “Suck it good.”
I did just that, but first I licked it, my tongue snaking up and down and all around the lovely stalk of flesh. Cupping Troy’s heavy balls in my hands, I bathed them with my tongue, first one and then the other, taking as much of each in my mouth as possible. I tickled the tiny vertical slit at the center of his cockhead, ran my tongue down and then back up the sensitive underside of the shaft, and then, finally, curled my lips over the bulbous head. Troy moaned softly as I took about half of his treasure in my mouth, then moaned again as my lips slid back up the shaft.
Placing my hands on Troy’s hard ass, I began a rhythmic sucking motion, with my head bobbing up and down, up and down. I loved the way his large cock filled my mouth and stretched my jaw, and the thought of having such a big beauty in my pussy made my underpants all the wetter. With Troy running his fingers through my long hair and urging me on, I continued sucking on his cock until he finally pulled away. “No more, baby,” he gasped. “I’ve got to fuck you now.”
Though this was to be a “quickie,” as Troy had termed it, I had thought he would take the time to undress and allow me to do the same. But he was too eager to bury himself inside me and, frankly, I was just as eager to feel him there. With his jeans and briefs bunched around his ankles, he had me stand and remove my panties. At his request, I handed them to him. He brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply, then stuffed them in his pocket.
“Turn around and bend over,” he ordered.
I did as directed, placing my hands flat on the bed for support and planting my feet firmly on the carpeted floor. I looked back in time to catch my lust charged lover hoisting my skirt and draping it over my back. “Get it in me,” I breathed. “Give it to me now.”
Teasingly, Troy began rubbing his cock on my taut bottom while fingering my syrupy pussy. Again I asked for his cock, this time saying “please,” and a moment later I was rewarded with the glorious feel of him sliding deep inside my grateful pussy. Troy held still for a few seconds, allowing us both to savor the penetration, and then he started moving.
I moaned happily as he worked his cock in and out of my pussy, my fingers like claws as they dug into the bedcovers. Still stroking rhythmically, he started slapping my buttocks, first the left, then the right, then the left again. I cried out in surprise and pleasure, for Troy had hit upon a surefire method of taking me over the edge. For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved having my ass slapped while I’m getting fucked from behind.
In a voice charged with lust, I told Troy to keep smacking my ass. I came hard immediately after a flurry of slaps, screwing my eyes shut and emitting a guttural moan as pleasure coursed through me. As I calmed down, Troy stopped smacking my ass to focus all his energy on fucking me. Now he really let me have it, drilling deep into my core, his cock pistoning rapidly. In no time I was announcing another orgasm, and this time Troy joined me. Two hard slaps on my ass triggered my release, and as I cried out I heard Troy groan and then felt his semen spurting inside me.
Breathing hard, Troy fell forward so that his chest rested on my back and his hands were next to mine on the bed as he braced himself. “Man, you’re something else, lady,” he said into my ear. “Whew!”
A few minutes later, having straightened ourselves, we went back downstairs and found Troy’s wife measuring the floor of the living room. She scooted over to Troy and said, “Oh, darling, I love this place to pieces. Let’s take it, please. Pretty, pretty please?”
Troy chuckled. “All right, doll, if it’ll make you happy.”
Jan gave her husband a big hug and then, smiling first at me and then at her husband, asked, “Is it nice upstairs, honey? The master bedroom, I mean.”
“Very nice,” Troy answered, blushing just a bit.
“But is it big?” Jan persisted, still smiling.
Her husband cleared his throat. “It was,” he said, smiling faintly.
Giggling, Jan pulled the panties out of her husband’s shirt pocket and held them up. “Gee, this is really our luck day, baby. I found the house of my dreams, and you found a new pair of panties for your collection.”
When Andrew came home that night, I told him I had good news and bad news. The good news was that I had sold a house. The bad news was that I had lost my prettiest panties.
“Let’s consider the bad news first,” he said, steering me toward our bedroom, my pussy getting wet.