wife with other men

[pgm]

It truly IS wonderful for both my wife and me to enjoy the sight of one another with a third person.

It IS truly wonderful…

Our expanded sexual boundaries are not solely about my wife having sex with other men; it’s about letting each other have experiences with new lovers. My wife is equally supportive about me having sex with other women.

As a bonus, my wife just happens to look especially sexy when she’s having sex with other men.

 

[rex_romeo]

As a bonus, my wife just happens to look especially sexy when she’s having sex with other men.

We are very lucky husbands!

 

[pgm]

My wife tends to be more adventuresome during the summer. The combination of short summer dresses and larger crowds seem to work in her favor. During a previous summer, we both wanted to get out of the house after a busy week. My wife and I were both up for a little music and a drink or two. As we wandered into one of the local clubs, we bumped into a guy that my wife had mentioned on more than one occasion that she wanted to fuck. He was a friend of a friend who we ran into every once in a while. I could see the twinkle in her eye when she said hello. I went to get a drink, and she headed to the dance floor.

When the band finished their set my wife and I wandered outside for some air. We chatted for a few minutes before she left for a “quick trip” to the ladies room. As she was coming back from the ladies room I noticed she stopped to talk to him. They talked and laughed for a while, and when the band started their next set, the two of them walked back to the dance floor together. About 30 minutes later I decided to take a walk to see if my wife had gotten into any mischief. From the edge of the parking lot I noticed my wife and her new friend emerge from the darkness and take separate paths back inside the club. I smiled knowingly and wandered back inside as well.

When I finally caught up with my wife, I knew by her silence and the expression on her face that she was thinking of how she was going to ask me if she could go home with him. Before she could ask, I whispered in her ear, “So, are you going to fuck him tonight?” After a short conversation, she kissed me on the cheek, told me she would be home much later, and left with him for a more secluded environment.

She came home around mid-morning with a satisfied smile on her face. When she slipped out of her dress, I noticed her panties were gone. I nonchalantly asked her how many times she fucked him last night. She pressed her gorgeous naked body against me and began to recount all the different ways she made him cum.

She knelt in front of me and took my hard cock into her mouth. I asked her if she sucked his cock like this. She coyly replied, "Just a little." I anxiously asked her if she let him cum in her mouth last night. She said no, but that if he became a regular lover, she most definitely would.

 

[MilkFountain]

She never looked so sexy, vibrant, and beautiful . . . My wife tends to be more adventuresome during the summer. . .

Dear PGM & Rex_Romeo,

Indeed, we are lucky men, considering all the ways things can and do go awry in a weaker relationship.

The only experience I have to add right now is, that after egging my wife on to "getting out there" more and more, to do "Something daring, something that might surprise me, that would perhaps even shock me.

She did . . .

Several minutes after she had returned from the living room and our house guest (by then sated and certainly now falling asleep), she sat astride me. Holding her body tight, a faint vibration seized all of her. Without asking, I knew she was in the midst of a mini-orgasm. With both hands I held her hips from moving up and down, keeping the warm weight of her bottom on my thighs. I wanted to feel everything going on inside her as she came. I nuzzled into the surrounding dark between her breasts, burrowing to taste his and her aromas in the thin film of sweat between them. I wanted to feel their heat, their slide and nod as they dropped. I eagerly listened to her ragged, breathless voice above me as she responded to my breast-muffled questions. Each time she paused, far from me in her own body, I pressed for more detail: Did she . . . ? Did he . . . ? Did they . . . ? Didn’t he try to . . . ? and, Didn’t she want to . . . ?

My cock was well gone inside her, the already fully erect head held fast and muscularly kneaded by the involuntary writhings of my wife's storm in climax grinding down and around on me. I felt, rather than thought, that with all the strength-trained muscles in the core of her sweet body she was quite purposely constricting her orgasm around my shaft in an excruciatingly friendly stranglehold. Far up inside her, helping all I could, I sought to press the head of my cock against the underside of her heavily beating heart. With my mouth now on a nipple, I drew it and as much of her breast as far back in my throat as my widened, creaking jaws would allow. Breathing mightily through my nose, I nearly choked on her fast flowing milk.

She began to shake. Instead of trying to break free from my grasp to jack herself on me, she pressed closer, her hips hard on mine, breath hot on my cheek. Sweat flowed freely between us.

I broke away. “But I asked you to do something that would really blow my mind, yes?”

With one hand she held my head tight to her breasts, the other straight before her against the bed, supporting her weight. At first I thought she was kissing my ear as her orgasm took her. Her lips were moving against my ear. Her voice tight against what I gues would have come out as a tight scream, she managed to blurt, “I let him come inside me.”

Her orgasm took her, making further speech impossible. It shook her until her pelvic bone hurt me, so much I eventually wanted to lift her from me. Her determined weight and sucking, surrounding lock on me prevented that. Suddenly, her body slick and gleaming in the faint light, I felt her sweat dripping onto my face, my thighs and belly. Her milk let down, overflowing my mouth to wet my face and chest.

And, I was flooded with so many feelings, all of them based on fear, shock, surprise and finally, dismay.
,
She milked my now reluctant climax from me, sqeezed out of me in a steady stream rather than the usual, uncontrolled series of gushers. Many feelings coursed through me . . .

So, what do you guys think? How would you have responded? How do you think I finally reacted?

 

[rex_romeo]

Dear PGM & Rex_Romeo,

So, what do you guys think? How would you have responded? How do you think I finally reacted?

I can't guess how you reacted but I am always thrilled when my wife takes a load from another man. We have a strategy when we party with friends. Whenever she gets a load in her pussy she seeks me out and I get to fuck her cum-soaked pussy. Two weeks ago we partied with two other couples. While she was getting plowed by the husband she was laying next to me and his wife was sucking my cock. Nearing the point of no return he asked her if he had to pull out. She said "No." He gasped with surprise and seconds later started shooting his load into her. Another advantage about enjoying this moment is that I get to shoot into his wife's pussy.

A few weeks earlier we were doing a threesome with a new friend, P, who has a great-looking thick cock. I was underneath my wife in a 69 licking her clit while he was fucking her from behind. Unfortunately, he didn't ask soon enough. I had emailed him two days earlier inviting him to fuck my wife and cum in her but he hadn't read the message. He pulled out and shot his load on her butt though she later told me she thought she got a little of his cum insider her. The next time will be a lot better and I will lick his cum and her juices and then fuck her.

I continue to suggest to my wife that she take on four or five guys at one time so I can fuck her after she takes all of their loads. I have told her that she can have all the cocks and cum she desires as long as I'm there with her.

 

[MilkFountain]

I have told her that she can have all the cocks and cum she desires as long as I'm there with her.

Great comments, rex_romeo! I feel the same way. One of my great memories is similar to your guy who pulled out at the last moment, but I grabbed his cock and pulled it down to my mouth. Once, in, he was already coming, so he pumped away in my mouth (finally well into my throat, gagging me), between her legs, her cunt hard against my chin, until he was empty.

 

[rex_romeo]

Great comments, rex_romeo! I feel the same way. One of my great memories is similar to your guy who pulled out at the last moment, but I grabbed his cock and pulled it down to my mouth. Once, in, he was already coming, so he pumped away in my mouth (finally well into my throat, gagging me), between her legs, her cunt hard against my chin, until he was empty.

That's very sexy! One of our friends started to unload in her from behind while I was in a 69 with her and intentionally pulled out to give me the second half of his ejaculation in my mouth. I got even more as his cum started to ooze out of my wife's pussy.

 

[MilkFountain]

He must have guessed or already known you quite well!

That's very sexy! One of our friends started to unload in her from behind while I was in a 69 with her and intentionally pulled out to give me the second half of his ejaculation in my mouth. I got even more as his cum started to ooze out of my wife's pussy.

Was it his first time with you two? Did he guide his cock down into you mouth or just spray in your general direction?

 

[rex_romeo]

Was it his first time with you two? Did he guide his cock down into you mouth or just spray in your general direction?

He aimed his cock at my mouth and put it in. His wife was watching as it happened. They were our first play couple and really sexy and wonderful friends. Unfortunately, they moved to another state. We miss them.

 

[Many Feathers]

One of our personal experiences.

My wife and I are always trying to do something fun (sometimes unusual) and exciting for one another. We do have special "friends" we play with from time to time, mainly because we know and trust them for one thing. And that's always fun and exciting whenever we do. However...my wife has had (and shared with me some of her fantasies) and of course me for her. But one of hers, was to be ravished by someone she didn't know.

Anyway...it took a while, especially as I wanted it to be a surprise, if and when it happened. I took my time, contacted and responded back to a number of inquiries I had made through another adult web site we belong to. I then screened out a few possible candidates, and actually met them for a drink or coffee to see if I was comfortable (and that she would be). I even required recent health certificates...so like I said. I was scrupulous about it, and took my time. It was finally down to two after the initial meetings. The final selection would be based on several factors, one...would they be comfortable showing me their cocks for close scrutiny as well? Both did. Felt it was important to see if they would do that for one, get hard in front of a guy, so I could see for myself. LOL...of the two, only one could get it hard and keep it so. He was then the final candidate. Next, I scheduled the evening, prepared my wife only with the knowledge that I was going to blind fold her and then tease her pleasurably for quite a while. Loving this as well, she was excited and prepared herself for the adventure. (Little did she know at the time). As she was doing this, the guy I'd selected arrived, and I secreted him away in the bedroom, bringing her in blindfolded a short time later, placing her on the bed, and then started off doing what she thought were my intentions all along. Only at one point, I then "switched" with the other guy, let him take over. (She's pretty good) didn't take long after that for her to realize it wasn't me. Which excited her to no end...but she still thought it was perhaps someone we knew who was there with me. Until I told her and assured her...it was someone she'd never met. That got her even more aroused, more turned on, not knowing. Able to do whatever she wanted (assured she could of course) though not being able to see who it was for at least another hour before finally being able to remove her blindfold. Needless to say, she was pleased, aroused, delighted...and hotter than all get out.

Now he is of course a good friend we very often invite over to play with us (and recently...he introduced and included his new girlfriend into the mix...which was a treat for us both).

Now of course I am waiting for a similar experience myself. Any other guys had their wife/girlfriend or SO do something similar for them?

 

[Many Feathers]

As they say...

Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words.


Here's speaking a volume...

 

[MilkFountain]

Yes, I have experienced something similar . . .

Dear Many_Feathers . . .

Yes, I finally achieved something similar with my wife:


I've come to love setting up situations where my wife finds herself on new territory . . . the focus of another man's fondest dreams: of gult-free sex with a friend's wife he's always wanted, or has just met and is overwhelmed by attraction to her . . .

For instance, the time I misled both my wife and our milkman, to their benefit. He always came before dawn every Thursday for pickups of empty bottles and delivery of milk, cheese and yoghurt. My wife and I had been into flashing for some months. So, as we fantasized in bed one night, she was only a little reluctant in provisionally agreeing provisionally to stand, at the expected time of the milkman's arrival, naked in the kitchen with her back to the French glass kitchen door, outside which he would retrieve our bottles and weekly, written request. I asked her to bend over, ass toward the kitchen door, and pretend to look for something in the cabinet under the sink. I would hide in the living room, able to just see into the kitchen where she would be, and at the same time, through a frosted window, my nose close to the glass, outside, at the back, kitchen door. That night a storm had left more than a foot of new snow on the ground and on the steps.

When the milkman's day of delivery at our home arrived, I left two messages—one for my wife under the sink where she couldn’t miss it on opening the cupboard door, and one out on the steps for the milkman, spindled into a milk bottle.

As my wife slept that morning I went to the sink, opened the cupboard door below and to the far side, and propped the note to my wife on a cup on the front edge of the bottom shelf, so it would catch the early morning light when she opened the door. As an afterthought, I folded the page once and with a black, felt-tipped marker on the full half-page inscribed “for Susan” in letters big enough so that she couldn’t miss it.
I returned to our bedroom, shrugged off my bathrobe onto the carpet by the bed and, shucking off my slippers, carefully, gently crawled beneath the covers. Spoon-fashion, I curled myself around Susan’s bottom and buried my face in her hair. My forearm encircled her breasts and I hugged the sleeping, breathing length of her to me. Somewhere in her dream laced sleep a part of her was aware enough to settle the roundness of her bottom firmly against me. Answering, I promptly grew, nosing into the soft, hot crevice that welcomed me.
Although I wanted her so badly, in anticipation of the milkman’s coming, I perversely enjoyed the still and moist clamp of her cheeks expectantly sheathing me. Firm against her, I never did figure out if the throbbing was she or I. I waited and listened.


When I finally heard the distant, crisp plodding crunch of the milkman high-stepping through the snow toward our doorstep, I nudged Norma and told her it was time to go to the kitchen—our milkman would be at our door in a moment. As I pulled her from under the covers, I reminded her that she had agreed to stand before the cupboard that was low beside and to the left of the kitchen sink, open the door nearest the wall, and read the note she would find there.

It is true that as I heard the faint crackle of the page being opened by my wife in the kitchen that at that moment our stalwart milkman was stooping to scoop up the empty milk bottles. From my squatting perch at the living room window I saw him hesitate, arm outstretched, but his face turned toward our kitchen French window door. I knew that at that moment, as my wife read the note I’d left for her, he was looking through the winter rimed glass and across three meters of our warm, inviting kitchen into my wife’s bottom.

As he stared, she was reading the following words I’d left for her:


"My dearest, lovely wife, while you are reading this, our milkman is at the same moment opening a rolled up page I left for him in a milk bottle outside, and signed by you; it says: You have been so nice to me. I’m alone in the house now, and I am so curious. If you wouldn’t mind holding me for a moment, a kiss, and then if we like, let me suck you?”


I looked back at the milkman. He looked frozen in his tracks. He looked down, and for the first time, noticed the paper sticking up from the milk bottle’s neck. Pulling it out, and absent-mindedly unrolling it, I’m sure he wanted a moment to reflect on what he’d just seen. Certainly he was expecting to read the usual week’s order. He brought up his other hand to hold the other side of the page. His shoulders set, all his attention on what was written there:

“You have been so nice to me. Would you like to come in? Would you hold me for a moment?”

Faintly I heard the rustle of paper from the kitchen. Then, movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention. I glanced back out my window at our kitchen steps, and saw the milkman reaching for the kitchen door. From the kitchen I heard the doorknob turn, then the slight scrape of the rubber flap at the bottom of the door that kept the snow out as our milkman’s arm disappeared into our home. As his black shoes slipped out of my window view, I hunkered down and peaked around the corner into the kitchen.

I saw our milkman, the page I’d written clutched in one hand, standing just inside the door. In that moment my wife came into view and I heard quietly say as she looked up at him, “Close the door.” As he shut the door with his free hand, she took another step and leaned her entire, naked self against him, lowering her head so that the side of her face rested low against his chest. Both his arms raised, he hesitated, then embraced her, pulling her gently closer. They stood like that for a long moment. Then, to my astonishment, I heard my wife crying. She lowered her face a little more, turning it toward him and hiding it against his belly. Again hesitant, our milkman touched the back of her head with one hand and then firmly pulled her face closer against to him. Her face was hidden from me.

Then I saw her hands come up and she pulled her face free from his belly. She found a shirt button with her fingers and slowly undid it. With both hands she parted the shirt and I saw her mouth and nose disappear. She was kissing his belly.

The milkman held both sides of her head and pulled her away, in the same movement lifting her face toward his. They kissed.

They kissed sweetly and then, suddenly, with a hunger I had not experienced with my wife in a long time—their mouths open, gnawig and hungry on each other. As they kissed I saw one of his hands lift one of her breasts hard against his chest and with his other arm circle her waist, low, and pull her up and hard against him, so that only her toes still touched the tiled floor. In a moment he was kissing her neck, shoulders and breasts.

I heard my wife huskily whisper, “Take my milk.” Then she giggled, and added, “You are my milkman.”

It was her use of the word “my” that shot a hollow sense of loss through my belly. I watched “our” milkman nurse at her breasts for only a minute or so. Suddenly, I was aware of my wife’s hands busy in his clothing below her breasts. She unbuckled the brass holding his heavy leather belt, and then unbuttoned his jeans. All the while he was sucking a breast, holding it with both hands, as if it were a gourd and he dying of thirst. I know that when she is relaxed and when she’s excited, her letdown is complete, not a flow but a flood. He was gulping.

She gently dragged her breast from his hands and mouth as she bent her knees until she was sitting on her haunches before him. Her milk went in sprays across his shirt and then his trousers and the glass door behind him. As her face fell lower than his waist, I saw his cock. She had managed to get it free from his underwear. When she settled, it bobbed in front of her, the height of her forehead. She pulled it down to her mouth.

My wife sucked him very slowly, making him last. She continuously moaned very softly. All the while he caressed her head, looking down at her with a wonder that made me proud of her. After several minutes, I saw he was beginning to meet her mouth with small thrusts of his hips as her lips closed around him. Then he bucked against her, still gently holding her head. My wife looked up. She said something to him so softly I couldn’t hear. He took her head with both hands, holding it firmly still in his big hands, and began to drive into her. I watched her throat swell each time. As he withdrew, it returned to normal.

His climax came in seconds. As he calmed down, she licked all around him, planting little kisses everywhere, burrowing beneath his balls and, eyes closed, rubbing her face back and forth on his belly and repeatedly over his cock. When she stood, they embraced, kissed for long seconds, and then she buttoned and buckled his pants. She said something to him, he kissed the top of her head, and turned to go.
(The aftermath of this was also so erotic for me!)

 

[Many Feathers]

I can hardly wait...

Dear Many_Feathers . . .

Yes, I finally achieved something similar with my wife:


I've come to love setting up situations where my wife finds herself on new territory . . . the focus of another man's fondest dreams: of gult-free sex with a friend's wife he's always wanted, or has just met and is overwhelmed by attraction to her . . .

For instance, the time I tricked both my wife and our milkman. He always comes before dawn every Thursday for pickups of empty bottles and delivery of milk, cheese and yoghurt. My wife and I had been into flashing so, as we fantasized in bed one night, she was only a little reluctant in agreeing (provisionally) to stand, at the expected time of the milkman's arrival, naked in the kitchen with her back to the French glass kitchen door, outside which he would retrieve our bottles and weekly, written request. I asked her to bend over, ass toward the kitchen door, and pretend to look for something in the cabinet under the sink. I would hide in the living room, able to just see into the kitchen where she would be, and at the same time, through a frosted window, my nose close to the glass, outside, at the back, kitchen door. That night a storm had left more than a foot of new snow on the ground and on the steps.

When the milkman's day of delivery at our home arrived, I left two messages—one for my wife under the sink where she couldn’t miss it on opening the cupboard door, and one out on the steps for the milkman, spindled into a milk bottle.

As my wife slept that morning I went to the sink, opened the cupboard door below and to the far side, and propped the note to my wife on a cup on the front edge of the bottom shelf, so it would catch the early morning light when she opened the door. As an afterthought, I folded the page once and with a black, felt-tipped marker on the full half-page inscribed “for Susan” in letters big enough so that she couldn’t miss it.
I returned to our bedroom, shrugged off my bathrobe onto the carpet by the bed and, shucking off my slippers, carefully, gently crawled beneath the covers. Spoon-fashion, I curled myself around Susan’s bottom and buried my face in her hair. My forearm encircled her breasts and I hugged the sleeping, breathing length of her to me. Somewhere in her dream laced sleep a part of her was aware enough to settle the roundness of her bottom firmly against me. Answering, I promptly grew, nosing into the soft, hot crevice that welcomed me.
Although I wanted her so badly, in anticipation of the milkman’s coming, I perversely enjoyed the still and moist clamp of her cheeks expectantly sheathing me. Firm against her, I never did figure out if the throbbing was she or I. I waited and listened.


When I finally heard the distant, crisp plodding crunch of the milkman high-stepping through the snow toward our doorstep, I nudged Norma and told her it was time to go to the kitchen—our milkman would be at our door in a moment. As I pulled her from under the covers, I reminded her that she had agreed to stand before the cupboard that was low beside and to the left of the kitchen sink, open the door nearest the wall, and read the note she would find there.

It is true that as I heard the faint crackle of the page being opened by my wife in the kitchen that at that moment our stalwart milkman was stooping to scoop up the empty milk bottles. From my squatting perch at the living room window I saw him hesitate, arm outstretched, but his face turned toward our kitchen French window door. I knew that at that moment, as my wife read the note I’d left for her, he was looking through the winter rimed glass and across three meters of our warm, inviting kitchen into my wife’s bottom.

As he stared, she was reading the following words I’d left for her:


"My dearest, lovely wife, while you are reading this, our milkman is at the same moment opening a rolled up page I left for him in a milk bottle outside, and signed by you; it says: You have been so nice to me. I’m alone in the house now, and I am so curious. If you wouldn’t mind holding me for a moment, a kiss, and then if we like, let me suck you?”


I looked back at the milkman. He looked frozen in his tracks. He looked down, and for the first time, noticed the paper sticking up from the milk bottle’s neck. Pulling it out, and absent-mindedly unrolling it, I’m sure he wanted a moment to reflect on what he’d just seen. Certainly he was expecting to read the usual week’s order. He brought up his other hand to hold the other side of the page. His shoulders set, all his attention on what was written there:

“You have been so nice to me. Would you like to come in? Would you hold me for a moment?”

Faintly I heard the rustle of paper from the kitchen. Then, movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention. I glanced back out my window at our kitchen steps, and saw the milkman reaching for the kitchen door. From the kitchen I heard the doorknob turn, then the slight scrape of the rubber flap at the bottom of the door that kept the snow out as our milkman’s arm disappeared into our home. As his black shoes slipped out of my window view, I hunkered down and peaked around the corner into the kitchen.

I saw our milkman, the page I’d written clutched in one hand, standing just inside the door. In that moment my wife came into view and I heard quietly say as she looked up at him, “Close the door.” As he shut the door with his free hand, she took another step and leaned her entire, naked self against him, lowering her head so that the side of her face rested low against his chest. Both his arms raised, he hesitated, then embraced her, pulling her gently closer. They stood like that for a long moment. Then, to my astonishment, I heard my wife crying. She lowered her face a little more, turning it toward him and hiding it against his belly. Again hesitant, our milkman touched the back of her head with one hand and then firmly pulled her face closer against to him. Her face was hidden from me.

Then I saw her hands come up and she pulled her face free from his belly. She found a shirt button with her fingers and slowly undid it. With both hands she parted the shirt and I saw her mouth and nose disappear. She was kissing his belly.

The milkman held both sides of her head and pulled her away, in the same movement lifting her face toward his. They kissed.

They kissed sweetly and then, suddenly, with a hunger I had not experienced with my wife in a long time—their mouths open, gnawig and hungry on each other. As they kissed I saw one of his hands lift one of her breasts hard against his chest and with his other arm circle her waist, low, and pull her up and hard against him, so that only her toes still touched the tiled floor. In a moment he was kissing her neck, shoulders and breasts.

I heard my wife huskily whisper, “Take my milk.” Then she giggled, and added, “You are my milkman.”

It was her use of the word “my” that shot a hollow sense of loss through my belly. I watched “our” milkman nurse at her breasts for only a minute or so. Suddenly, I was aware of my wife’s hands busy in his clothing below her breasts. She unbuckled the brass holding his heavy leather belt, and then unbuttoned his jeans. All the while he was sucking a breast, holding it with both hands, as if it were a gourd and he dying of thirst. I know that when she is relaxed and when she’s excited, her letdown is complete, not a flow but a flood. He was gulping.

She gently dragged her breast from his hands and mouth as she bent her knees until she was sitting on her haunches before him. Her milk went in sprays across his shirt and then his trousers and the glass door behind him. As her face fell lower than his waist, I saw his cock. She had managed to get it free from his underwear. When she settled, it bobbed in front of her, the height of her forehead. She pulled it down to her mouth.

My wife sucked him very slowly, making him last. She continuously moaned very softly. All the while he caressed her head, looking down at her with a wonder that made me proud of her. After several minutes, I saw he was beginning to meet her mouth with small thrusts of his hips as her lips closed around him. Then he bucked against her, still gently holding her head. My wife looked up. She said something to him so softly I couldn’t hear. He took her head with both hands, holding it firmly still in his big hands, and began to drive into her. I watched her throat swell each time. As he withdrew, it returned to normal.

His climax came in seconds. As he calmed down, she licked all around him, planting little kisses everywhere and, eyes closed, rubbing her face back and forth. When she stood, they embraced, kissed for long seconds, and then she buttoned and buckled his pants. She said something to him, he kissed the top of her head, and turned to go.
(The aftermath of this was also so erotic for me!)

To hear about the aftermath.

 

[Many Feathers]

Yes it is...

Thhis is worth a bump!

And we need some more hot horny adventures by everyone!

 

[pgm]

And we need some more hot horny adventures by everyone!

As this summer was coming to an end, my wife found herself out for a night of dancing with her girlfriends. Her "innocent" moves on the dance floor led to a discrete passing of her email address to an attractive single guy who lived on the other side of town. As I expected, he wasted little time in contacting my wife, and my wife wasted no time arranging to meet him for coffee.

Their first date gave my wife the opportunity to get to know him and ensure he was interested in more than coffee and conversation. Their subsequent conversations became livelier and he let my wife know how much he was thinking of her while he masturbated. My wife and I took that as a sign that it was time for their second date.
I had just come home from a weeklong business trip, and my wife emerged from our bedroom in a dress with a small bag. I gave her a kiss and a long hug and noticed that she didn't have anything on underneath her dress. She pressed her hips into me, told me that she was going over to his place, and would wake me in the morning when she came home. I eventually did fall asleep but awoke when I she walked into our bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed, pulled her over to me, and slid her dress off her body. I began to run my hands over her breasts. My wife giggled and told me that they had been covered with his cum just a short while ago. When she saw my usual approving reaction, she went on to clarify that he jacked off on her tits after he had already fucked her once. My reaction became even more approving as my wife described how her new friend held her legs apart and repeatedly buried his cock inside her.

...she held back, managed to blurt, “I let him come inside me.”

It wasn't long after that evening before my wife shared those same words with me...

I had taken my wife out for a nice dinner, and then took her to a dance club so I could watch her dance with other guys. I'm sure they all noticed that she wasn't wearing anything underneath her thin, sheer dress. When she was finished dancing, I dropped her off at her friend's apartment for the rest of the night. When she came home, she snuggled up next to me with a satisfied smile on her face. I asked her if she had fun. She said that she had and then proceeded to tell me how she had thoroughly enjoyed herself sucking his cock. With much anticipation, I asked my wife if she let him cum in her mouth. Her face lit up as she told me that not only was her mouth wrapped around his cock when he climaxed, but that she gave him a nice playful look as she swallowed all of his semen.

So, what do you guys think? How would you have responded?

I've always been turned on by the prospect of my hotwife letting other men cum in her mouth. So, when my wife began describing how her lover came in her mouth, I couldn't restrain my urge to slip my cock out in front of her and begin to stroke it. She responded to my enthusiasm and requests for more details by sharing more: positions, taste, volume, consistency, etc. My wife also let me know in no uncertain terms that she was very much looking forward to doing it again. While looking upon her beautiful face and with thoughts of his cock in her mouth, I quickly climaxed.

 

[MilkFountain]

No, no—in her vagine!

As this summer was coming to an end, my wife found herself out for a night of dancing with her girlfriends. Her "innocent" moves on the dance floor led to a discrete passing of her email address to an attractive single guy who lived on the other side of town. As I expected, he wasted little time in contacting my wife, and my wife wasted no time arranging to meet him for coffee.

Their first date gave my wife the opportunity to get to know him and ensure he was interested in more than coffee and conversation. Their subsequent conversations became livelier and he let my wife know how much he was thinking of her while he masturbated. My wife and I took that as a sign that it was time for their second date.
I had just come home from a weeklong business trip, and my wife emerged from our bedroom in a dress with a small bag. I gave her a kiss and a long hug and noticed that she didn't have anything on underneath her dress. She pressed her hips into me, told me that she was going over to his place, and would wake me in the morning when she came home. I eventually did fall asleep but awoke when I she walked into our bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed, pulled her over to me, and slid her dress off her body. I began to run my hands over her breasts. My wife giggled and told me that they had been covered with his cum just a short while ago. When she saw my usual approving reaction, she went on to clarify that he jacked off on her tits after he had already fucked her once. My reaction became even more approving as my wife described how her new friend held her legs apart and repeatedly buried his cock inside her.



It wasn't long after that evening before my wife shared those same words with me...

I had taken my wife out for a nice dinner, and then took her to a dance club so I could watch her dance with other guys. I'm sure they all noticed that she wasn't wearing anything underneath her thin, sheer dress. When she was finished dancing, I dropped her off at her friend's apartment for the rest of the night. When she came home, she snuggled up next to me with a satisfied smile on her face. I asked her if she had fun. She said that she had and then proceeded to tell me how she had thoroughly enjoyed herself sucking his cock. With much anticipation, I asked my wife if she let him cum in her mouth. Her face lit up as she told me that not only was her mouth wrapped around his cock when he climaxed, but that she gave him a nice playful look as she swallowed all of his semen.



I've always been turned on by the prospect of my hotwife letting other men cum in her mouth. So, when my wife began describing how her lover came in her mouth, I couldn't restrain my urge to slip my cock out in front of her and begin to stroke it. She responded to my enthusiasm and requests for more details by sharing more: positions, taste, volume, consistency, etc. My wife also let me know in no uncertain terms that she was very much looking forward to doing it again. While looking upon her beautiful face and with thoughts of his cock in her mouth, I quickly climaxed.

I MEANT TO BE CLEARER . . . HE CAME IN HER VAGINA, IN HER WOMB!!!

 

[MilkFountain]

Fantasy realized . . .

For years I've had a fantasy . . . to be awakened in the darkest hours of the morning by a nearly painful hardon, my hips hotly against my wife's bottom. In my cherished imagination she's oblivious to me, gone from the world in her moment of deepest sleep. Back to me, face in her pillow and breasts pressed round to the sheet, her breathing is even, slow and peaceful. She stretches one leg straight down to the foot of the bed, raising the other knee high and away from me, pulling her bottom open in the warm dark beneath the sheet.

In my fantasy, at a pre-arranged time, I rise to tip toe to the front door to let a friend into our home. There, just inside the entrance, I motion him to strip, whisper a last minute instruction to keep her back to him as long as he can, and then lead him to the bedroom. I pause at the doorway to watch him carefully climb into bed behind my wife and scoot gently until he fits the entire length of his body to hers.

He lies like that, unmoving, for a long while. A hand rests lightly on her shoulder. I see that he's making sure she's sill asleep. After what seems to me a long while, I see his hips move. In my wonderful daydream I am sure he’s slowly insinuating his hardon deeper into the cleft between her buttocks. I see him tenderly kiss her shoulder. And then I see her first response, hips squirming to press the softness of her bottom back to receive him.

Braver now, he embraces her closer. The hand that was on her shoulder drops beneath her arm and slides forward over the full side of her breast. When it drops out of sight, his arm beneath hers, surrounding her, I cannot keep myself from craning forward, rising to tip toe, to see his arm must cradle both her breasts. As he pulls her to him in a firmer embrace, I hear a sleepy, contented hum escape her as she snuggles back against him.

Then, withdrawing his embracing arm, he firmly plants a hand in the center of her back, pinning her to the bed, and rises. He kneels, swinging a knee to land firmly between her thighs, and sits, stradling her long, out-thrust leg. I can only see his butt when he thrusts it against her bottom. I imagine I am he, looking down, seeing his cock insinuate itself between her cheeks. I see and feel it bully its way into in the hot muskiness, seeking the mouth of her vagina. Astray for a moment, he prods her asshole, drawn by its heat. Then, in my fantasy, I see the hand he’s had on her neck drop, spread the soft cheeks of her ass, grope for his cock, and bear down on it, and drive it lower.

From behind, standing in the doorway, I see the moment when he finds her. With one certain thrust, straining, he fits his hips to hers, buried as deep as he can go. I am sure that the commotion of that sudden, rigid presence heaving up to fill her pushes into her throat the joyful sound I hear rise soft from her mouth.

In my fantasy, one hand against her back, his other again at her neck, he fucks her until he comes inside her. He withdraws, dresses at the front door and leaves. I take his place in bed over my wife, again penetrating her in the same position, panting, as hard as I imagine he was, and just as urgent to empty myself into her. This time I do not hold her down. I fondle her breasts, kiss her and snuggle long after.

This morning I lived my fantasy.

My friend, long an open admirer of my wife and now sworn to secrecy, has been gone a couple of hours. My wife and I have both slept one of those profound second sleeps that has left me yawning broadly, happily rested and ready for the day. She woke in good humor, even when pushed by me out of bed to make French toast. Before going she stood over me for a moment, knees against the side of the mattress, nibbling her lower lip and looking at me curiously. "What happened this morning? she asked.

I leaned forward and kissed her belly, burying my face. Tentatively, she held me to her and I nuzzled deeper. The unmistakable aroma of semen rose from her cunt. I supposed it was a mixture of my friend’s and mine. Relaxing into the feel of her fingertips caressing my scalp, I dragged my face back and forth across her belly. A small, nervous laugh escaped her, and she whispered, with just the slightest hint of a question rather than a statement, “You certainly had lots of energy this morning!"

I haven't told her what really happened. But . . . I sense she knows, or at least suspects. Not with any certainty, I’m sure, but with that instinct that a woman’s body knows. I don’t really want to take that from her, and I don’t want to clarify.

What do you think, Balus? I’m enjoying the moment more than I can say. Living the reality is, as almost always, far better than the fantasy!

 

[BALUS]

Greetings

It's been a long time Milkfountain... wonderful to see your enormous writing talent and sexual depth still here. I have always loved your narrations amd fell in love with Norma long ago. I anticipate many more of your adventures.
Be well, friend

 

[lets_experiment]

Love this thread. The wife and I have often spoken of this but as of yet have not actually gone through with anything. A trip is planned for Vegas later this year. Perhaps with enough persuasion and a little alcohol we might actually go through with it.

 

[MilkFountain]

Have you ever . . . ?

One night three years ago I came home late and tired. My dear wife was a little cross, having waited for me with a special dinner. I was so tired that I was neither hungry nor horny. There was so much food on the table and my wife was so loving, wanting to kiss me and otherwise needy for affection.

I looked at all that food and thought of my grad student assistant I'd just left at the lab. He lives alone, recently was apparently dumped by his three-year-and-counting live-in girlfriend, and unusually non-communicative in the month since she had left him. I asked my wife if we could invite him for dinner. After an initial pause, surprise etched on her face, she said okay.

I went to my study to make the call. I began by asking my assistant (almost 30 years old) to help me with a wonderful dinner already set on the table for which I had little appetite. Almost as an afterthought, I laughed and said that maybe he could also help me distract my wife, that she was obviously feeling passionate and I was too exhausted to do her justice. Even as the last of those words left my mouth I was listening for his response, my own interest quickening, curiosity and a surge of libido unexpectedly taking hold of me.

But I heard only silence from the other end of the line. I paused perhaps longer than I might have, suddenly feeling awkward. Just as I was about to say something inane and unrelated, a small laugh crackled into my ear. He said "Sure. I don't know what you expect from me but the food sounds great!"

He'd beat me to it—filling the awkward silence with an even more awkward remark, one that shied away from my unintended sly suggestion. I decided to press.

"She's feeling really amorous and I'm too tired to pay her attention." I said. "Just come over, have a good meal and, maybe, if you feel up to it, dance with her." (I knew from past brief encounters at the lab and one other dinner at our home, that he was puppydog infaturated with her.) In a moment of inspired but uncharacteristic daring, I rushed on, adding, "Anything to make her feel wanted. Dinner's in 20 minutes." Before he could say more, I hung up.

They did dance after dinner. My wife apparently loved having my young assistant's arms around her. I turned the lights low, selected the music, left the room for a while, and when I returned. found them tightly, comfortably embraced, moving only enough to pretend they were dancing.

It got late. I suggested he stay the night. When my wife took some glasses to the kitchen, I told my assistant that my wife was tired, a little drunk, and really too sleepy to make up a bed for him on the couch, and that our children occupied the other bedrooms. I asked if he'd mind just "crashing" on the far side of our big bed, my wife between us. I sent him upstairs to prepare for bed. When my wife returned, I told her not to worry about his sleeping arrangements, that to save her doing more work, he would sleep on the far side of our bed.

Sleepily, as if she hadn't heard me, she hugged me, kissed my shoulder and neck, and turned toward the bedroom. I caught her hand, drew her bak to me, and asked if she'd mind sucking him off to put him to sleep as quickly as possible.

I got little sleep that night. After the initial squirming in bed, after her head disappeared below the sheets, after my assistant's climax shook the bed, I slept. But some time soon after I was rocked awake, and from then on throughout the night the brief lulls in their bouts allowed me to doze, only to be awakened twice more, and to doze again.

Has anyone else himself deliberately asked a potential lover to make love to his wife?

 

[welikeu]

It has never happened the way yours did but we have had that happen on numerous occassions. Just recently with the son of a very close and long time friend. This young man is 12 years younger than our 34 year old daughter.
It is "always" a very Hot and Erotic night.

 

[MilkFountain]

It has never happened the way yours did but we have had that happen on numerous occassions. Just recently with the son of a very close and long time friend. This young man is 12 years younger than our 34 year old daughter.
It is "always" a very Hot and Erotic night.

You're not clear . . . Did your 22-year-old son of a close friend sleep with your wife, or your daughter?

 

[welikeu]

You're not clear . . . Did your 22-year-old son of a close friend sleep with your wife, or your daughter?

It is as clear as the sky during a "High Front".

I repeat what I entered before.....
"It has never happened the way yours did but we have had that happen on numerous occassions. Just recently with the son of a very close and long time friend. This young man is 12 years younger than our 34 year old daughter.
It is "always" a very Hot and Erotic night."

"The only reference to me daughter is that the friend's son is younger than our daughter!"

Why would I talk about my daughter's sexual activities when I do not "know nor care "about them?

 

[pgm]

And we need some more hot horny adventures by everyone!

After a number of relatively unexciting months, it’s good to see my wife fucking other guys again. She’s fucked three guys in the last few months and would have been with more if not for her busy schedule.

The first of this latest trio lives nearby but has an out of town girlfriend. My wife drops by his place, they fuck, and she comes home several hours later with a smile on her face. He doesn’t seem to be the most imaginative guy my wife’s fucked, but she likes his body and he’s convenient when she wants it.

There’s not much to tell about the second guy. She met him one evening while out with her girlfriends. She was feeling horny so she fucked him.

My wife really seems to be enjoying the latest guy she met, and he has become somewhat of a regular. After a number of emails, telephone calls, and chats she agreed to meet him for dinner. Of course as soon as he picked her up, she had him take her straight to a hotel so they could fuck. She sent me a text message just after midnight letting me know that she had already had three orgasms and that she wouldn’t be home until early in the morning.

When my wife finally came home she looked tired but had the usual satisfied smile on her face. I asked her how her night went. She said her new friend was a lot of fun, but that she was a little tender from an evening of what seemed like non-stop fucking. Knowing how much I like to look at her after she’s been with other men, she spread her legs and described all of the different ways he fucked her. I got the arousing details of where he came on her (twice) and how he held her hair when she sucked his cock. I began to gently kiss her clit, and she took my cock in her mouth. I lasted all of about two seconds.

My wife slept for a few hours, but after I left for work, she drove back to his place and fucked him again. She made sure to tell me later that evening, that not only did she enjoy taking all of his cock up her ass, but she was very pleased when he came inside her. My wife noticed how hard my cock had become and concluded I was pleased as well.

My wife fucked this last guy again multiple times this past Friday night (and Saturday morning) and is planning to stay overnight again at his place next weekend. Since he has become a trusted regular, my wife lets him fuck her bareback.

 

[jackson44]

Well it's great to see she is fucking other men again and great to see the thread a bit active again. Thanks for sharing your adventures. See if she will share a picture of herself.. I would love to see what she looks like when she comes home from his house

After a number of relatively unexciting months, it’s good to see my wife fucking other guys again.

My wife fucked this last guy again multiple times this past Friday night (and Saturday morning) and is planning to stay overnight again at his place next weekend. Since he has become a trusted regular, my wife lets him fuck her bareback.