Wonderful Life With My Gorgeous Hotwife (revisited)

[john jasson]

Loving it and eagerly awaiting the next chapter! Keep writing please...

Hi PaNic. I'll do what I can! Thanks for the encouragement.

[john jasson]

First, Thank You for sharing this with us! Your writing takes me right there with you, something I'm not apt to do with most internet threads.

The reason folks want you to publish this in the library (just ask a mod) is that we don't ever want this beautiful piece of work to disappear into the bowels of some hard drive, never to be read and enjoyed again. Please?

Hi anonymister1948. You have me blushing. Thank you so much for commenting.

[john jasson]

Agree, this deserves to be maintained for future generations of hotwife enthusiasts. Threads here are dropped way too soon but it's their site and they can run it however they want. I do see the neeed for space but just imagine how much valuable information has been lost.

Hi afagehi7. Thanks for reading and commenting. Your encouragement is much appreciated. As quite a few people have now mentioned the Library, I'm going to post a combined response on the matter. Thanks again.

[john jasson]

To all the kind members who have advocated moving the thread to the Library section:

I don’t want to keep doing the Library thing to death, but it doesn’t seem to be going away. To all who have commented on the subject, I am very humbled that you see such merit in my chronicle, but I can only repeat my original rationale that it is more appropriate to reserve the eternal repository for works of fiction by our great writers: The likes of Xleglover and Ky_Da, etc.

As a chronicle of our actual experiences, I feel that the right place for this thread is in the Hotwife section, and I expect that this is where it reaches the most suited and appreciative audience. No?

All things being equal, if I keep the motivation to expand the narrative into our later years, it has some way to go before we run out of road. I hear what is being said about threads disappearing into the bowels of beyond, and I can see that eventually it becomes an issue for all threads, but isn’t the current method the most appropriate filter? If something hasn’t drawn a comment for 6 months, it falls off the end? Unless you had an infinite amount of storage space, there has to be some determiner, and if you kept everything how do you sort what’s worth keeping from what isn’t, and who is to be the judge of that?

I’m comfortable with the notion that folks read my posts, and if they enjoy our story that’s wonderful. If they take the trouble to leave a note saying they like it (or even saying they don’t, for that matter), then I’m even more gratified. I’m not looking for immortality here. It’s simply a bit of fun.

Also, the atmosphere is going to change quite soon, and it’s going to get more intense and darker. Perhaps some of you who have enjoyed our salad days of quite lighthearted fun playing at getting Sherrie laid in her mid 20s might become a bit freaked out and less enthusiastic if we explore further as her instincts take her into the rabbit hole of extreme submission to a new lover in her early 30s. You might be praying for it all to fall off the end by the time we’re through. I sometimes did when it was happening!

[setv4]

I'm really enjoying this Hot story of You and your Wife's journey. I lost track of it back in late January, but I found it again yesterday, and have now been caught up! Thank you for Sharing these Hot recollections! I understand why it makes you get So Hot by her actions and yours to her actions.

Hi setv4. Thank you for catching up again! I appreciate your taking the trouble.

You are Very Welcome!

[nekkedoutdoors]

To all the kind members who have advocated moving the thread to the Library section:

I don’t want to keep doing the Library thing to death, but it doesn’t seem to be going away. To all who have commented on the subject, I am very humbled that you see such merit in my chronicle, but I can only repeat my original rationale that it is more appropriate to reserve the eternal repository for works of fiction by our great writers: The likes of Xleglover and Ky_Da, etc.

As a chronicle of our actual experiences, I feel that the right place for this thread is in the Hotwife section, and I expect that this is where it reaches the most suited and appreciative audience. No?

All things being equal, if I keep the motivation to expand the narrative into our later years, it has some way to go before we run out of road. I hear what is being said about threads disappearing into the bowels of beyond, and I can see that eventually it becomes an issue for all threads, but isn’t the current method the most appropriate filter? If something hasn’t drawn a comment for 6 months, it falls off the end? Unless you had an infinite amount of storage space, there has to be some determiner, and if you kept everything how do you sort what’s worth keeping from what isn’t, and who is to be the judge of that?

I’m comfortable with the notion that folks read my posts, and if they enjoy our story that’s wonderful. If they take the trouble to leave a note saying they like it (or even saying they don’t, for that matter), then I’m even more gratified. I’m not looking for immortality here. It’s simply a bit of fun.

Also, the atmosphere is going to change quite soon, and it’s going to get more intense and darker. Perhaps some of you who have enjoyed our salad days of quite lighthearted fun playing at getting Sherrie laid in her mid 20s might become a bit freaked out and less enthusiastic if we explore further as her instincts take her into the rabbit hole of extreme submission to a new lover in her early 30s. You might be praying for it all to fall off the end by the time we’re through. I sometimes did when it was happening!

Well, Fine! (Storms off to another room) {Grumbling to oneself} "Only trying to help!" [background noises of occasional slamming of cupboards and drawers][Fade to black]

[john jasson]

Well, Fine! (Storms of to another room) {Grumbling to oneself} "Only trying to help!" [background noises of occasional slamming of cupboards and drawers][Fade to black]

That's some impressive full on strop you have there, nekked. Sherrie would be proud of that one.........

I thought I made a reasonable case for the defence of the status quo.

[Chrislydi]

John's rationale makes perfect sense to me, all 'live' threads should be allowed to 'disappear into the bowels of beyond' if they've laid dormant over such a long period of time.

I recently posted on how we all felt fairly humbled and inadequate after reading John at his flowing best. All in all the prospect of my stumbling drivel one day falling into the OHW dustbin is quite a comforting.

[mathuranjali]

Following

[john jasson]

It's Friday. It's five to five, and it's Crackerjack! Well, no. It's not five to five, and it's not Crackerjack. It is Friday though. We're sorry we can't bring you Crackerjack, but here's an episode of Sherrie in Slutsville by way of consolation.
============================================

On the fateful Friday evening, Sherrie and I are out on the town separately with our respective friends from our offices. To try to keep my emotions on the rails as much as I can, I’ve been sticking to the standard Friday night schedule of a session at the gym, shower and change there, and then off to meet the guys. I received an excited text from my beloved as I finished my workout a couple of hours ago:

S: Been home to freshen up n dress for tonight. In cab back to town now.

Her message doesn’t overtly rub my face in it, but we both know she’s been preparing her body for her date with destiny, otherwise known as her total seduction of Dr Paul Trevelyan. Whatever she’s wearing, I know she’ll make an arresting sight and, for sure, there will be some extremely sexy and very brief scanties concealed beneath her outer clothes for Trevelyan’s delight, as he unwraps her to display and enjoy all of her secret womanly goodies. These thoughts are killing me, and at the same time, of course, I’m loving it. I’m veering at regular intervals from elation to dark despair and back again.

J: You ok, sweets?

S: Bit frantic since u ask. U sure ur good still?

Now there’s a question. Am I good? She says she’s a bit frantic? She can have no clue what she’s doing to me. She isn’t even with me, but her actions are having an effect on me every bit as potent as one of her prolonged edging sessions, when she tortures my cock between agony and ecstasy with her tongue and fingers. Tonight she’s somehow dispensing the same euphoric mania into my senses by sheer telepathy. I have to man up and reply:

J: Sure. So long as u r. Enjoy.

S: Do my best.

I have an attack of courageous stupidity:

J: C u sometime tomorrow. Whenever suits u will b good. No drama this side.

S: Maybe. We’ll see. Thks so much 4 giving me this. Love u 4ever. xxx

A few minutes later, presumably an afterthought:

S: Sorry I’m so bad.

J: Ur perfect.

Meanwhile, it’s the usual boisterous end of week atmosphere out and about on the streets and in the crowded pubs, bars and restaurants. Loud music, peals of laughter and general high spiritedness bellow out from the open doors and windows of every establishment, and the pavements throng with mainly young people, just like us, hanging out, having fun and blowing off the strictures and frustrations of the working week. The balmy summer evening seems to add a Mediterranean air to the proceedings, meaning that many of the young women are agreeably underdressed. It all adds to the lively craic that’s going down all around us.

So far, so routine, I guess, but for me, and for Sherrie too I am sure, wherever she is in the partying crowd, there is a stark awareness that we are walking, or stumbling, into a completely altered reality that could change everything for us. It might be a great night out for everyone else, but for us that’s incidental. For us, it’s just a sideshow to a watershed moment loaded with fear, anxiety and the very pinnacle of erotic anticipation.

My unworldly intuition in the moment is that I’m some phantom presence that’s wandered into the middle of a fairground where everyone else is engaged and focusing on the thrill of the rides and attractions. That’s what they came for, after all; the fun and excitement of the fair. For me, by contrast, it’s a solitary, detached experience in which the bright colours, the crashing impacts of the dodgem cars, the clatter of the rollercoaster, and the screams and shouts of the revellers surrounding me are but an empty hologram only vaguely registering in my psyche. A hologram that’s completely divorced from, and subordinate to, the primary stream of my consciousness which is infinitely more enticing for being all about my lovely Sherrie, and the delights and dangers for the pair of us of whatever she might already be doing even now. This is so much more edgy and exhilarating than any ride I could imagine at a funfair, and it’s more intoxicating than anything I care to buy, back in reality, at the bar tonight, whether legal or illegal. Words lack the ability to convey how much this overwhelming mindfuck with such unknowable consequences can affect a person.

It’s freaky in the extreme trying to get a handle on this feeling. Physically, I’m here standing drinking with my colleagues, even sharing the odd bit of banter so they don’t think I’m nuts or in mourning or something, but this whole ‘night out’ scene, the fairground like hologram I’m living in, and marginally interacting with, is far less tangible to me than that abstract stuff coursing through my brain centred on my outrageously libidinous wife. My mind continues to run riot throughout the evening, fuelled by my rampant sexual excitement and acute jealousy in equal measure.

I envy Trevelyan his first time undressing Sherrie as he feels her passionate need for him building to a crescendo. I haven’t told her how much I resent to the depths of my being his impending penetration of her sex as he takes her and they become one, her flesh with his; the ultimate act of intimacy she professes to crave desperately with him. I wish I could live my own first time with her all over again, for it was so wonderful for us both. Will she feel the same force of nature with him, as he stretches her vagina and coaxes her ever higher towards her orgasm? Will he urge her on as she totally loses control through her climax? Will he cradle her perfect body as tenderly as I did when she slowly comes back down, sweetly sighing to him in her dazed fulfilment, while he tells her how incredible she is? It’s highly likely, I know, but merely entertaining the possibility is pure torture. And what will be her honeyed post-coital words to him in reply? Her ‘sex brain’ will have evicted me entirely from her thoughts for sure. I daren’t even contemplate the ramifications for the future.

Way back, during the earliest months of our relationship, I could never have envisaged ever yielding my exclusive privileges with Sherrie to anyone else. I guarded her rigorously at the start because I had found a love so, so precious to me. She’s yet more precious with the passage of every day, but tonight here we are. She wants this badly, powered by a deep compulsion she doesn’t understand. Her needs have no filter when she's like this. I am totally on board with it, driven on by my own carnal proclivities that I don’t understand either, and my arousal at the prospect has reached boiling point.

Later on, my mind is completely frazzled. My cock is sore from being big and hard all evening, all day, really, and from trying to hide the fact. Ultimately, it turns out to be one of those unusual nights when we happen to run into Sherrie’s clan in a crowded bar where I don’t expect to find them, and at a time I don’t expect them to be there. I’ve tried to keep my group out of her way so as not to ruin her chances with the man, but she’s spotted me from across the room, and presently I see her walking over towards me. She looks delectable, having made a big effort with her clothes and her hair, as I expected. She’s a peach, my peach; certainly good enough to eat. I’m not sure what’s happening as she approaches.

S (shouts in my ear to be heard over the din): He’s a no show tonight. None of his group have been in Ranson’s.

I’m not sure which of us is the more disappointed, but I soon conclude it must be Sherrie because she looks altogether crestfallen. Her big eyes are watery when she looks at me. Well, she was the one that was out meaning to have sex with another man before she came home to me, I suppose. I put my arm around her to comfort her as we leave together for a much quieter venue in a side street, and I try to bolster her spirits there over an anticlimactic drink. No question, this is a huge downer for both of us.

S(really downcast): He seemed really keen. I wonder what’s happened.

J: Never mind, angel. Maybe there’s a simple explanation, and you can pick it up with him next week.

S: I don’t know. I’ve a funny feeling there’s something wrong. I should have texted him again during the week to confirm. I was complacent thinking he was at least as into me as I am into him. Pride comes before a fall, eh?

J: I can’t imagine he’s not interested, really I can’t.

I’m tempted to say you’re way out of his league, (I don’t actually know because I’ve never met him), he’s a lucky bastard for having the chance of sexing you, and if he’s not going to grab it, it’s his loss, but becoming adversarial about it towards Travelyan doesn’t seem appropriate. I don’t think she’ll want to hear it.

We finish our drinks and walk slowly to the bus stop. She says nothing now as we stand waiting, hand in hand, but she doesn’t need to. I can read her mind well enough, and I know she’s fretting about him. They’ve stood here for weeks at around this time each Friday indulging their mutual attraction and wishing they could go further. I feel her warm fragrant body close beside me, but I’m also catching an uncomfortable vibe from her that right now she wishes I were him, and they were tongue wrestling and heavy petting in the dark shop doorway I just saw her take a sneaky peek into. I might be imagining it, but we are usually on the same wavelength, and these are the tricky places that my mind and her ‘sex brain’ can take us to. I stay strong for her. I have no choice.

Later on at home, I feel so bad as I watch her sadly removing the erotic underwear treat she’d carefully put together for him. Poor Sherrie; my heart goes out to her. In bed, I find myself in the peculiar position of trying to console my lovely wife because the man she was planning to be unfaithful to me with has stood her up. It’s a miniature mindfuck in itself.

We don’t make love. Neither of us is in the mood now. It’s like we’ve had a bucket of cold water thrown all over our ardour, apart from which it doesn’t seem right to be doing it at the time she was looking forward to getting sexual with him and going all the way for the first time in his bed. That’s a weird thought too far for me, so we just cuddle together naked, and I hold her until she finally falls, emotionally drained, into a fitful sleep. I lie awake next to her for hours, just trying to understand and relive the way I felt back in the bar. I'd never known an experience like it.

[PaNic]

Speechless!

[hoping_she_will_1day]

Wonderfully sexy story!

[afagehi7]

I'm guessing that a patient emergency came up. That's the price of being a doctor. He should have at least texted her.

[Chrislydi]

Well done John,

Such powerful writing, that tingle of nervous anticipation that never leaves, the envious thoughts, the questions, has she met him? Is it happening? and then, the letdown, and what a letdown. I even felt sad reading it, poor Sherrie, poor John and poor Chris (the reader).

great stuff John

Chris

[PaNic]

Talk about vicarious writing: you’re leaving us readers hanging, confused, disappointed. Just as yourself and Sherrie were left hanging, brilliant!

[john jasson]

Following

Hi Mathuranjali. Thanks for taking the trip with me. Appreciate your post.

[john jasson]

Speechless!

Oh, go on. You know you want to!

Talk about vicarious writing: you’re leaving us readers hanging, confused, disappointed. Just as yourself and Sherrie were left hanging, brilliant!

Thanks, PaNic. Appreciate your kind words. Great name by the way.

[john jasson]

Wonderfully sexy story!

Hi hoping_she_will_1day. You're too kind, but I like it! Thank you for commenting. It makes all the difference.

[john jasson]

I'm guessing that a patient emergency came up. That's the price of being a doctor. He should have at least texted her.

Hi afagehi7. Thank you as always. You're right. He should have texted her. She was like a bear with a sore head for a few days until I told her she needed to snap out of it.

[john jasson]

Well done John,

Such powerful writing, that tingle of nervous anticipation that never leaves, the envious thoughts, the questions, has she met him? Is it happening? and then, the letdown, and what a letdown. I even felt sad reading it, poor Sherrie, poor John and poor Chris (the reader).

great stuff John

Chris

Chris, me old mate. I'm going to throw one of your many compliments straight back at you.

Even your comments are masterly works of literature........... Thanks, as ever. And thank you for your wonderful thread.

[afagehi7]

Well done John,

Such powerful writing, that tingle of nervous anticipation that never leaves, the envious thoughts, the questions, has she met him? Is it happening? and then, the letdown, and what a letdown. I even felt sad reading it, poor Sherrie, poor John and poor Chris (the reader).

great stuff John

Chris

Chris, me old mate. I'm going to throw one of your many compliments straight back at you.

Even your comments are masterly works of literature........... Thanks, as ever. And thank you for your wonderful thread.

Are you a journalist or lawyer? Your command of vocabulary is amazing

[PaNic]

Hi John,
“Thanks, PaNic. Appreciate your kind words. Great name by the way.“ Thanks, my girlfriend came up with the name, but that’s another story.

Talking of stories, enough chit chat please please please give us the next chapter...

[nnjcpl2002]

Great true account. Extra hot for that reason.
More exciting than fiction. I will point out that there are true stories in the Library, as well as fiction.
Thanks for sharing with us. Eagerly awaiting your next chapters.

[john jasson]

Are you a journalist or lawyer? Your command of vocabulary is amazing

Hi afagehi. Haha. No, nothing so grand. Having said that, the standard of journalistic copy has been in sharp decline since Victorian times. You can barely read even a quality newspaper nowadays without wincing at the poor construction. Likewise, modern legalese tends to be awfully disjointed thanks to the lazy use of cut and paste. Writing is a dying art, I'm afraid.

Now I shall have to beware of Muphry's Law coming along to put me firmly in my place!

[john jasson]

Hi John,
“Thanks, PaNic. Appreciate your kind words. Great name by the way.“ Thanks, my girlfriend came up with the name, but that’s another story.

Talking of stories, enough chit chat please please please give us the next chapter...

Thanks, PaNic. Patience is a virtue! Maybe tomorrow.