I want to see you with another

Friday night

" I want to see you with someone else ," my husband tells me, then that tonight he can't sustain an erection long enough to penetrate me either. " Whatever you want is fine ," I tell him, as I often respond to his decisions.

And also, like other times, I get up and go to the bathroom to masturbate. While I do it, for the first time I think that, besides my husband, another man is making me his. I imagine someone mature, with grey hair and a classic belly, who without speaking but breathing heavily, without stopping, inserts and removes a short, hard penis into my insides. The fantasy turns me on like never before and in a matter of a couple of minutes, I experience an intense and vibrant orgasm, of which I only become aware, when my own moans make me react.

Very late Friday

I try to sleep but some memories distract me.

I think that my husband is 45 years old and I am 37. We have been married for 20 years and I cannot complain about him. He is respectful, hard-working, disciplined, faithful, a homebody, careful of me and my family, and a fanatic about order.

His biggest flaws have always been: he is obsessed with work, religious as a child, passionate about sports and very routine-oriented in bed. Since we got married, he works outside of work from Monday to Friday, and because of that circumstance we got used to having sex only on weekends. The situation changed when he started having erectile dysfunction five years ago, due to a medical problem. In the last two years I have only received oral sex from him.

I confided my situation to a close friend. _ You are very lucky, sex is only for them, it's good that you no longer have that hassle, you will no longer spend the nights feeling his heavy male body on top of you, sweating and panting like an out-of-control animal, ejaculating for a long time inside you, buy yourself a dildo _ was her opinion.

I can't get my friend's phrase "spending the nights feeling his heavy male body on top of you, sweating and panting like an uncontrolled animal inside you" out of my head, nor can I get my husband's "I want to see you with someone else" out of my head. I'm not sure, but I think a Pandora's box is about to open.

Saturday morning

After breakfast, my husband asks me to go to the room that has been set up as an office. “ Is this okay with you ?” he says, showing me a text on his laptop: “ Couple from Guadalajara, Mexico, 45 and 37, looking for a discreet swinger for sex with her, very discreet and zero commitment .” The message he posted on a popular sex exchange site says, accompanied by one of my photos in a bikini and sunglasses, which he took during our last trip to the beach. I can’t help but say it, but my white skin, inherited from my Caucasian line, my long hair, lightened to a lighter shade than the original, narrow waist, and although my breasts are a B cup, my leafy rear makes up for it. “ Yes, that’s okay ,” I answer, a little disturbed by this situation .

I wonder what kind of people will respond? And immediately I feel my skin crawl and my sex get wet without wanting it.

Saturday afternoon-evening

_Look_ , my husband proudly shows me the result of the first 8 hours of the announcement, and I am surprised by the number of responses received.

_ Read your descriptions and proposals _ he tells me while leaving the room and leaving me alone so I can check the messages more comfortably.

“ You’re so lucky, bastard. Lend her to me for an afternoon in a hotel, I’ll lick her ass until she writhes and begs me to make her mine .” Divorced, 39 years old.

“ I like mature women, like your wife, I'm hot and I have milk to give her morning, afternoon and night ” Student, 19 years old.

“ I know how to treat your wife, she is obviously very needy, you are even going to want her ” Discreetly married, 34 years old.

“ Your old lady is so cool, I'll invite you both to my house in Los Cabos, for a weekend with everything paid for, my house has a pool, I'll treat her like a queen, if I want I'll give you a truck, you tell me when you can and I'll send you the plane tickets, I'm super discreet and I keep my promises ” Hierba_mala, 48 years old.

As I read the messages and look at the photos, my mouth goes dry and my breathing changes. . Men from 18 to 65 years old; white, dark and dark-skinned; serious and smiling; tall and short; thin and fat; tattooed and untattooed; hairy and hairless; widowed, single, divorced and married; locals, from other cities and even foreigners. I am amazed, … and very wet.

I put my hand under my clothes and touch the entrance to my slit. I am amazed by the slippery moisture that I secrete. I take off my panties, open my legs, touch myself slowly, while I look at what I like most about men: their hands, their mouth and their gaze.

The orgasm comes quickly, short but intense. After finishing, I think about it and feel ashamed. It is not possible that a woman like me, married, with two children in college, would let myself be carried away by dirty, morbid thoughts that I have never experienced before, but that make me feel a pleasure that I have never known before.

I close the screen, clean myself, put my clothes back together and go down to the living room. “ What did you think? Did you see anything you liked? ” he asks with a strange gleam in his eyes. “ I’ll finish looking through them later, ” I answer, trying to appear indifferent, but my legs tremble as I walk.

Saturday eleven at night.

My husband is sleeping like a baby. Something unexpected happened a few moments ago. As soon as we got into bed, he brought up the subject again, and as he did so, I got aroused again. The funny thing was that this time, he did too. Against all odds, he got an erection big enough to penetrate me.

_ I want someone else to make you theirs _ he murmured to me while above me, he moved in and out of my lubricated vagina.

_ Letting someone else caress you and touch your body. Watching him kiss and penetrate you. The idea of seeing his member entering and leaving you excites me. Do you want us to do it, love? Would you do it for me, darling? _ He asked me while the center of my body boiled like it hadn't in months.

_ Yes, love, I will do whatever you ask me to do, if that's what you want, I will do it because I love you _ I managed to answer before the wave of spasms covered us.

Then he didn't say anything else, he left me and has been sleeping peacefully for a few minutes. That's when I returned to his laptop in the office to continue reviewing the prospects' profiles.

I read and look at them carefully, but I always find something I don't like and I discard them. I am attracted to those who describe more about themselves and what they are looking for. I discard those who live outside the city; use poor language; are ostentatious; married; those who have photos with skimpy clothes; are too fat and too muscular; those who wear many piercings and tattoos; those who have posted a whole biographical speech; those over fifty.

I have a finalist, he says he is single, a part-time professor at the university and at the same time, a master's student, an athlete, he shows a photo in a soccer uniform, he is light brown, tall (he mentioned 190), thin, you can see he has big hands, a fixed gaze, a small mouth with full lips, pink cheeks (maybe because of the time the photo was taken), a shaved beard, thick eyebrows, strong legs, no tattoos or piercings. I like that he doesn't mention the size of his instrument, I imagine it must be standard, he just describes himself as: young, experienced and kinky. He calls himself André24, and that's the only thing I don't like, that he's too young.

I go to sleep wanting to dream about him.

Sunday morning

While we are having breakfast, I explain to my husband my probable choice and my doubts regarding his age.

_ The advantage with someone young is that it is less complicated, they are more respectful, they can be handled more easily; the disadvantage is their lack of experience _ In the end I decide that André is the best prospect.

_ It would be good if you got to know him a little before a date, maybe he would tell you something about what he does, or maybe you'd like to know what kind of sex he likes, or ask him for some more intimate photos_ . My husband suggests, but I think that what I know about him is enough, maybe it's even more kinky for me to discover him little by little, at the time of the meeting.

_No, it's okay like this, just let him know that I agree to meet him, make it clear that it will only be once. Please, you agree with him on the details_ . He immediately gets up from the dining room and goes to the office.

Sunday noon

_He already answered! _ my husband tells me excitedly, _ is it okay for us to pick him up today at six in the afternoon at the Rio Nilo exit of the subway, in the Oxxo parking lot (a well-known convenience store), and from there we will go to the La Diosa motel, does that sound good to you, love ?_

_ Today?, I thought it could be next weekend _ .

_ I preferred it to be today, the truth is I thought that if more days pass, you might regret it_.

_You know me well, you're right, love, today is fine_

I eat very little, and then unsuccessfully try to take a nap. I touch up my fingernails and toenails. I shave my legs and pubis completely. I fill the tub and take a long bubble bath.

I choose a short and provocative black dress, sleeveless, with only straps; with a generous neckline that showed off a good part of my small boobs. Dark sneakers. I put on provocative makeup, with false eyelashes, prominent eyebrows and a very crimson lipstick. My hair is casually tied up. Red thong and bra with black lace. And I finish off with a good dose of “Vie est belle” perfume.

_ You are dazzling, love _ my husband says with genuine admiration.

We leave the house, considering the distance to the meeting place, which is not close to our house. While driving, I feel my skin burning and I turn the air conditioning on full blast. Neither of us speaks, but we are both nervous. To cover it up, I put on music from my Spotify.

When we arrive at the pick-up spot, my heart pounds. It's a popular part of town. There he is, my husband says, but I lower my face so as not to see him and hide my eyes with dark sunglasses. My reasoning is that the less I see him, the safer I feel.

Long and unforgettable Sunday afternoon.

My husband parks and I get out to meet him. It takes almost ten minutes, which seems like an eternity, until they return carrying some beers. Unexpectedly, my husband climbs into the back of our vehicle, and André takes the driver's seat, starting the truck as if he were the owner. Apparently they made that arrangement while they were entering the store. I timidly look at his profile. He is much taller than I thought, he must be around 190, his lips are fuller than I supposed, his chin has a small hole that I hadn't noticed, his hair is thicker and curly than it appears in the photo, his sunglasses make him look incredibly handsome, he has put on some lotion with intense marine touches, and his voice... oh God, it is tremendously deep and manly.

“ Open a beer for me,” André orders my husband. He obeys with a passivity that I didn’t know existed. “ And one for her ,” he adds after taking the first sip. My husband stammers, “ She doesn’t drink beer ,” but André, unfazed, says, “ Today is a special occasion and we have to celebrate .” My husband hands me the can and for a moment he turns to me, smiling, and says, “ Cheers, darling, we’re going to have a great time, you and I.”

My face feels hot and my throat feels dry. I take a sip of the drink to calm my nerves. His smile and poise melt me, he radiates a confidence that overwhelms me before him, and at the same time makes me feel intimidated and fragile.

Immediately, the lack of habit and the speed with which I drink make me feel a cloud in my head. Suddenly we are already at the motel. They assign us the room and we park. " Help her down ," he orders my husband, while he enters with an attitude of inspecting the room. The room is beautiful, it has a kitchenette and a bar with high stools, a comfortable sofa, a jacuzzi, a queen size bed, a large bathroom with transparent doors, a small mini bar, and it has air conditioning, which in this part of the country is indispensable.

She goes to the kitchen counter and says: _ I want to ask you some questions, you sit next to my little one, let's talk a little _. Being near him makes me nervous.

"It's of some use, open another beer for me, you useless bastard ," she says to my husband in a playful tone, and he smiles complacently, celebrating the joke.

_How many boyfriends did you have before you met him?_.

_None_ I answer with an almost trembling voice.

_ How many experiences do you have with other swingers ?_ . Out of shame I don't answer, but my husband says: _In your life, this is your first time with someone other than me_

"Don't tell me he's the only one who caught you?" I can only nod and shake my head.

_The only one who has caught you and can't get it up anymore !_ He smiles, surprised and festive. His laugh is fresh and honest.

_But I'm good at giving him oral sex_ my husband defends himself.

_Cheers to that_ and the three of us clinked our drinks.

_I feel you a little nervous, little one, come on, let's dance. Put something on your cell phone, salsa cachonda _ (she orders my husband). He follows the instruction and soon the chords of Una aventura , by Grupo Niche, are heard . Like a true gentleman, André stands up and extends his enormous hand to me. I smile flattered and place mine on top of his to hold on and start dancing.

The scene is totally new to me. He is very good at dancing salsa, he knows how to move and lead me with an elegant and horny cadence. Next to him, I look short in stature despite my size 12 heels. My head doesn't even reach his shoulder. Fortunately, salsa is a coming and going, turning, coming closer and moving away. At times, I can feel his arm firmly around my waist, his hand holding mine, other times, he rubs his body softly against mine, letting me breathe in the warm aroma of his masculine fragrance accompanied by masculine sweat.

As we dance, every now and then my body shudders involuntarily, and he murmurs to me _ calm down, nothing is wrong, it's just that you're not used to it, just let yourself go and trust me, I won't do anything you don't like _. His voice is incredibly changeable, it can be hoarse and dominant, or silky and sweet. I just respond by nodding my head, letting my body relax and get a little closer to his, whenever the music allows it.

When she finishes, she looks at me smiling, asks my husband for another beer (who meekly obeys). And she whispers in my ear: _Now dance alone for me, do it as if you were really horny_.

_ Put on some calm music for a horny dance _, she says to my husband. And she sits down on the couch.

I don't know what power he's starting to exert over me. I don't even look at my husband, and I start a soft dance in front of André, this time to Michael Bublé's Falling Good .

I don't need anything else, but to let myself be carried away by the alcohol in my head, the feeling of his somewhat mischievous smile and his hypnotizing gaze. At this point, I have forgotten that I am in front of a man 13 years younger than me, but with a personality that is at the same time masculine, tender and controlling. At times I approach him and raise my short dress a little until almost showing my thong, or I lower one of the straps revealing the whiteness of my shoulder, noticing how this adds more lasciviousness to his gaze. There is a moment when I perceive a slight movement of his hand, adjusting something under his fly.

When the melody ends, he stretches out his hands calling me to come closer to the sofa and gently takes me to sit on one of his legs, while he squeezes my waist with his long arms. My smallness contrasts with his large size, I look like a doll in his arms. He orders my husband to come closer and the three of us toast to the pleasant moment.

_ You look so good, babe _ he whispers in my ear, and the scent of his alcohol-laced breath envelops me _ I like them just like you _.

_How ? _ I ask flirtatiously.

_like a very decent lady with her husband, but a real whore with her lover_ . The phrase surprises me and I put on a strange face. He answers confidently.

_ Don't play dumb, I know you're very cross-eyed in public, but in bed you love to feel a really hard cock _

Her language surprises me, because it is so vulgar and coarse, and also because she says it in front of my husband, and it seems that she enjoys him listening to her. At that moment I turn to look at my husband's face, but he lowers his red face, denoting that her words provoke him, just like they do me.

_ I don't understand how, being so hot, this cuckold doesn't get his rope up. If you lived with me, I would give you a good spanking every night . _

_ Come cuckold, come closer, I'm going to show you how to make your slut wife enjoy_ .

His mouth runs over my body giving me small soft kisses on my neck and mouth, while one of his hands touches my breasts under my bra, and the other runs over my legs, getting under my dress.

_ First you have to kiss her and touch her gently _.

I didn't realize when I lost my shame, that my husband was watching me being fondled by a stranger. His tongue entered my ears and made me open my lips and breathe deeply. He was a master in the subject of caressing. His left hand slipped under my bra captures and squeezes my nipple producing a pleasurable pain that I always longed for from my husband. Then, he put the index and middle fingers of his right hand in front of my mouth.

_ Suck them bitch, fill them well with saliva _. I do it feeling a strange pleasure to feel his thick and manly fingers inside my mouth, until, once well salivated, he takes them to my vagina and rubs them gently against my clitoris, while his mouth approaches mine and his tongue enters my oral cavity completely. This concert of caresses drives me crazy, and my body is filled with waves of pleasure that travel from my feet to my brain, each time stronger, each time more constant.

Then she stops kissing me to say to my husband: _You see cuckold? Do you see how I serve her ?_ My husband has adapted to being just a secondary extra in the scene and I see how he nods with his mouth open, showing obvious excitement as he watches his little wife being used by an unknown male, who is 21 years younger than him.

_Do you like what I do to you, bitch? Do you enjoy my tongue kisses? When I touch your pussy like that? When I squeeze your nipples hard?_ He asks me shamelessly.

_See ?_ he asks my husband. _Deep down, she's just a really young woman, hungry for a man. She's one of those who gets scared of cock, but hangs on to balls. From the moment I saw her, I realized that she's a real slut, and you, a cuckold husband without enough testosterone to be the man she needs. Am I right or am I not ?_ He asks now, addressing me.

_Yes_ I answer panting. _Yes what, slut?_. _Yes I like what you do to me, you touching me between my legs, you caressing my breasts and you kissing me putting your whole tongue in my mouth, I love how you do it André_

_ and you also love it when I talk to you like a whore, right ?_

_ Yes, I love that you talk to me like that, my husband has never done it, it turns me on to hear you _

He puts his fingers back in my mouth and brings them back to the middle of my legs, playing with going in and out of my vagina, while his mouth jumps alternately from my neck to my mouth, and then to my nipples, causing shudders and light uncontrollable moans.

The movement of his fingers awakens pleasurable pulsations that start from the center and radiate to the entire periphery of my body, but just when they are increasing, he removes his hand, leaving me surprised and anxious.

_ Get on all fours on the couch, bitch_

It's all very fast, while I get into the ordered position, he unbuttons his pants. " Lift up your skirt, slut," he says as he pushes my thong aside and points his phallus at his target.

I can't help but moan when I feel it invading me, it is by far longer, wider and bigger than my husband's, and also infinitely harder.

His hands grip my hips, moving in and out rhythmically. I, supported by my hands, resist his gentle but firm thrusts all the way into my body.

_ Your old lady has a nice pussy, asshole, it's obvious that you didn't pay much attention to her, I feel her really tight, and it seems that she really needed a real man, not like you with your watery dick, isn't that right?_ she asks my husband.

He stands like a child in front of a magic show, amazed, attentive and motionless, unable to believe how a young man penetrates his wife on all fours, without any modesty or respect. _ Yes André, it's good that you agreed to come and use her and make her feel female. Thank you for making me my Cuckold and her, his whore, you are a 10/10 Sancho_

My husband's comment is at the same time unusual but realistic, I am enjoying being penetrated in this way, and he is also morbidly enjoying watching me for the first time in our lives, nailed by a young, experienced and kinky male.

Apparently her answer emboldens him. _ Move your ass bitch, enjoy your Sancho bitch_ He says while giving me a loud spanking, which at this point excites me more than hurts me and I moan with pleasure to show that I liked it. _ So you like being punished bitch?_ He asks me intrigued. _ Yes, I like you to hit me like that, daddy, hit me all you want, I'm your little bitch_

His thrusts increase in frequency and strength, making my insides boil; his spankings are more constant and I feel my ass burning; seeking to have total control, he has undone my hair and grabbed my hair to pull me hard towards him, while he attacks me; his morbid and lewd language increases my joy. Never, no one had used me like him, and I had never reached this level of excitement. Soon everything stops making sense, I lose consciousness, and I enter a space where everything is ecstasy and pleasure. In my mind there are bright lights, time disappears, electric shocks start from the center of my body that go to all the ends of my skin, I shudder, I sweat, I moan and I just want this pleasurable torment to last forever.

Everything is going into higher gear and I feel his hoarse moans announcing that he is reaching climax. His body hardens and his phallus throbs, swollen to the max, his hands spank me and hold my hair; I can't articulate words, but with my moans and movements, I do nothing but ask him not to stop thrusting into me like he does.

Everything inside me goes dark, my arms can't hold me up and my body falls convulsing forward. I feel his heavy male body on top of me, sweating and panting like an uncontrolled animal, ejaculating for a long time inside me.

Two or five minutes, I don't know how long he remains motionless, recovering, I feel wet from his thick and abundant ejaculation. After long and wonderful moments, he sits up, asks my husband for a piece of toilet paper, cleans his still semi-erect weapon, and puts it away.

Smiling mockingly, she looks at my husband and says, _ Okay, cuckold, we'll see if you can now give your whore wife good oral sex, after all, that's the only thing you're good for_ She lights a cigarette and leaves the room, closing the door.

We are left alone, still living the whirlwind that has just passed over us. But we have both crossed the line of what is forbidden. My husband looks at me excitedly and asks _ what do you want me to do, love? _. My brain has changed and without any blush I tell him: _ they already told you, give me oral sex, cuckold _

_Yes my life_ he says, and starts licking my creamy vagina like a child who has received a prize.