Our last two evenings with a couple were with the same couple.
We had had the opportunity to meet Frédéric for the first time, a very courteous and zen West Indian.
This first contact over a drink went well, and my darling confirmed that he could be our next playmate.
But our family commitments meant that our availability was greatly reduced, and on the evening we were free, he wasn't : he'd already committed himself to another couple.
So he suggested to this couple (Arnaud and Lisa) that we join them.
They gladly accepted, especially as they had also invited a lonely partner whom Lisa had met the week before.
So, for the first time, we were going to try out a 6-person evening: 2 couples and two single men... 4 men for 2 women!
Now that was promising!
Arnaud and Lisa were an atypical couple: Both divorced, they kept their own homes and indulged in libertinism together or on their own during the Scandinavian beauty's frequent trips abroad.
Yes, Lisa was Swedish and had the physique to match: tall, blonde, well-built, dynamic forty-something.
Arnaud, on the other hand, was more plain.
When we arrived at Lisa's, we were introduced to Mathias. A young Parisian with a messy head of hair... undeniably handsome!
Right from the start, it was clear to me that he had caught Raph's eye, probably more than Frédéric who was our “matchmaker” and certainly more than Arnaud.
The evening took a while to get going. We chatted a lot before anything happened. A nice, pleasant chat.
But as soon as things got serious, the evening got particularly hot... and it was a long night!
Of course, as you can imagine, the four male genders had the pleasure of honouring my wife in turn (or together).
My wife came away exhausted, smitten, slammed!
She had never given so much of herself.
The four sexs followed one another, sometimes without interruption, in her intimacy or in her mouth.
Dressed in the indispensable condom, each of the other three men emptied himself at least once deep inside her warm lair.
She certainly gave it her all!
In fact, she gave more than she ever had before...
Indeed, I was surprised to see her for the first time give a full (so-called imperial) blowjob to someone other than me.
And, of course, the lucky recipient was Mathias.
I was less than a metre away from them and Raphaëlle had been going at it for a while on his big cock (yes, once again, I had the smallest). The rhythm had become almost frenetic.
When I saw him tense up, grunting as my sweetheart swallowed loudly, I immediately understood what was happening.
She did as she had done with me: she didn't lose a drop, and only gently released her grip when she was sure the bird had nothing left to give.
We never set ourselves any boundaries. We always trusted our ability to reason and improvise when the time came.
So it wasn't taboo for my wife to suck a man's cock to completion, but it was still weird to realize that she'd swallowed a complete stranger's jizz.
Since then, when a man asks her if she swallows, she replies that it's a privilege she reserves for her husband, that she's only done it once with another man, and that she doesn't want to do it again.
I never had the chance to really go into this subject with her.
I can't say this scene shocked me... but I appreciate the fact that she still reserves a few privileges for me.
Lisa wasn't left out either. She too was put through her paces as the women were outnumbered.
There was even a moment when Arnaud and Frédéric offered her a double penetration that quickly and surely took her to new heights of pleasure!
What about me?
Well... as usual...
I just got sucked off by the girls and licked the pretty Swedish girl.
I dare say she got some pleasure out of it... At least, she showed it.
In any case, we came out of the long night satisfied.
And we weren't the only ones!
Arnaud got back to us shortly afterwards: He and Lisa had enjoyed our get-together, and were looking forward to meeting up again for a four-way as soon as we'd like.
Later, he confided in us that Raph' had been one of the few (if not the only one) with whom he'd been able to go all the way. He usually had "difficulties... difficulties I understood only too well!
Finally, a guy like me!
I could see why he was dying to do it again!
From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
Re: From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
So we met up a second time with Arnaud and Lisa... but this time again, it wasn't the foursome.
A year earlier, we had formed a threesome with Thomas.
To this day, he remains the youngest of our partners. He was 26 or 27, but much more mature than his age would suggest.
Raph' had fond memories of that charming, gentle evening.
Since then, she had hoped to see him again, but our schedules didn't really coincide and over a year had passed.
Once again, the collision of constraints and availabilities led to a doubling of the opportunities for the same evening: Lisa and Arnaud invited us, but Thomas was finally free at the same time as us.
Raphaëlle thought that after all, we could do as we had done the first time: invite the lone man to join the party.
Arnaud and Lisa weren't against the idea, but they were reluctant in view of his young age: as a matter of principle, they didn't get involved with anyone under 30.
However, my wife was able to reassure them of the young man's maturity and worth, and they finally agreed.
In myself, I understood their reluctance and suspected that Arnaud was afraid of the competition: inviting a young stallion whose talents Raphaëlle had already tasted to our agape could compromising what he had hoped for from this evening, namely to enjoy fully (and for longer than the previous time) the charms of my beauty, she who had finally enabled him to overcome his hang-ups.
And he was right to be wary, for that was precisely my darling's intention: she wasn't overly keen on Arnaud (she'd accepted the couple's invitation mainly so that I could meet up with the Nordic Lisa in the hope of “deepening” things) and secretly she was counting on Thomas to make the evening more interesting, from her point of view.
For my part, I wasn't sure this plan was going to work, and the way the evening unfolded proved me right...
Once again, we were warmly welcomed by Lisa and Arnaud.
They also made Thomas feel very welcome.
Like last time, the discussion went on for a long time before things got too heated, and as the evening wore on, it became clear to me that something was going on between Thomas and Lisa. They fell under each other's spell, and when their hands began to wander, it was only natural that they drew closer, sought each other out... and found each other.
Which left the way clear for the happy Arnaud...
He positioned himself behind my darling, who was on her knees, giving me a sweet head and, without really asking permission, sank between her flesh, making her palate hum on my dick...
A dick she had to let go of fairly quickly or risk taking a chunk out of me, such was the urgency of the thrusts.
So she let go and stood up, guided by the man still plunged into her depths.
This, I must admit, was the most exciting moment of the evening for me: sitting on the sofa, I had my dearest and sweetest standing there, facing me as she suffered the virile assaults of our host from behind, her lovely breasts dancing prettily in front of my eyes.
However, she would later tell me that in this position, he was hurting her.
So she interrupted him momentarily to draw him towards the bed of cushions that covered the floor and offer him a much more classic but also more comfortable missionary.
And so my evening soon boiled down to a simple masturbation between the two couples who were fucking each other: Arnaud and Raph' on my left, on the floor, Lisa and Thomas on my right, on the sofa.
Fortunately, Arnaud was kind enough to let me take my place between my darling's arms once he'd finished his business, and I, in turn, was able to give my wife a little pleasure while Thomas and Lisa slowly came to an end.
All evening, Lisa had only given me a fleeting, clumsy and painful hand-job on my shaft, which, to add insult to injury, was quite honourably stiff that evening.
The debriefing with my darling was quick and to the point.
She hadn't enjoyed Arnaud because she'd felt I'd been sidelined, and she didn't even understand how she'd agreed to fuck him without any particular desire, just to be polite.
She even regretted not having given in to her urge to leave the party much earlier.
The worse it got, the worse it got. What was the point of going on like this?
So, for the time being, this calamitous evening marked the end of our adventures as a foursome.
But it didn't mark the end of our libertine practices: there was still one scenario that continued to give us satisfaction: threesomes.
A year earlier, we had formed a threesome with Thomas.
To this day, he remains the youngest of our partners. He was 26 or 27, but much more mature than his age would suggest.
Raph' had fond memories of that charming, gentle evening.
Since then, she had hoped to see him again, but our schedules didn't really coincide and over a year had passed.
Once again, the collision of constraints and availabilities led to a doubling of the opportunities for the same evening: Lisa and Arnaud invited us, but Thomas was finally free at the same time as us.
Raphaëlle thought that after all, we could do as we had done the first time: invite the lone man to join the party.
Arnaud and Lisa weren't against the idea, but they were reluctant in view of his young age: as a matter of principle, they didn't get involved with anyone under 30.
However, my wife was able to reassure them of the young man's maturity and worth, and they finally agreed.
In myself, I understood their reluctance and suspected that Arnaud was afraid of the competition: inviting a young stallion whose talents Raphaëlle had already tasted to our agape could compromising what he had hoped for from this evening, namely to enjoy fully (and for longer than the previous time) the charms of my beauty, she who had finally enabled him to overcome his hang-ups.
And he was right to be wary, for that was precisely my darling's intention: she wasn't overly keen on Arnaud (she'd accepted the couple's invitation mainly so that I could meet up with the Nordic Lisa in the hope of “deepening” things) and secretly she was counting on Thomas to make the evening more interesting, from her point of view.
For my part, I wasn't sure this plan was going to work, and the way the evening unfolded proved me right...
Once again, we were warmly welcomed by Lisa and Arnaud.
They also made Thomas feel very welcome.
Like last time, the discussion went on for a long time before things got too heated, and as the evening wore on, it became clear to me that something was going on between Thomas and Lisa. They fell under each other's spell, and when their hands began to wander, it was only natural that they drew closer, sought each other out... and found each other.
Which left the way clear for the happy Arnaud...
He positioned himself behind my darling, who was on her knees, giving me a sweet head and, without really asking permission, sank between her flesh, making her palate hum on my dick...
A dick she had to let go of fairly quickly or risk taking a chunk out of me, such was the urgency of the thrusts.
So she let go and stood up, guided by the man still plunged into her depths.
This, I must admit, was the most exciting moment of the evening for me: sitting on the sofa, I had my dearest and sweetest standing there, facing me as she suffered the virile assaults of our host from behind, her lovely breasts dancing prettily in front of my eyes.
However, she would later tell me that in this position, he was hurting her.
So she interrupted him momentarily to draw him towards the bed of cushions that covered the floor and offer him a much more classic but also more comfortable missionary.
And so my evening soon boiled down to a simple masturbation between the two couples who were fucking each other: Arnaud and Raph' on my left, on the floor, Lisa and Thomas on my right, on the sofa.
Fortunately, Arnaud was kind enough to let me take my place between my darling's arms once he'd finished his business, and I, in turn, was able to give my wife a little pleasure while Thomas and Lisa slowly came to an end.
All evening, Lisa had only given me a fleeting, clumsy and painful hand-job on my shaft, which, to add insult to injury, was quite honourably stiff that evening.
The debriefing with my darling was quick and to the point.
She hadn't enjoyed Arnaud because she'd felt I'd been sidelined, and she didn't even understand how she'd agreed to fuck him without any particular desire, just to be polite.
She even regretted not having given in to her urge to leave the party much earlier.
The worse it got, the worse it got. What was the point of going on like this?
So, for the time being, this calamitous evening marked the end of our adventures as a foursome.
But it didn't mark the end of our libertine practices: there was still one scenario that continued to give us satisfaction: threesomes.
Re: From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
I'm glad to hear it. Not all events can be a hit but at least that evening clarified for you both what you really want and enjoy the most.But it didn't mark the end of our libertine practices: there was still one scenario that continued to give us satisfaction: threesomes.
I am enjoying this thread so much and am impressed that you should write so expressively in a language which is not your native tongue. Thank you again, Frenchie and my best wishes to the lovely Raphaelle.
54321
Re: From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
Thanks a lot, 54321 !
Re: From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
But even for threesomes, you have to get organized: Placing the kids or finding lame excuses to justify our joint absences... And it's not that easy, especially as the kids grow up and swallow our lies less and less.
Between these contingencies and the availability of our potential partners, we could only have a few and not often.
But my wife wanted to.
She'd had a taste of forbidden pleasures and wanted to try them often.
I wouldn't go so far as to say that she was no longer satisfied with me, but it was clear that she intended to enjoy life before it caught up with her.
And that meant more freedom, the chance to meet people without me necessarily being present.
From the outset, it had been very clear between us: We were going into libertarianism as a couple, but if one of us had solo opportunities, he or she was entitled to take advantage of them.
The only requirement was transparency: we continued to tell each other everything.
So there was no real revolution in our practices, just an evolution: Madame could meet on her own even if, for the first meeting, for safety's sake (you never know who you'll run into), I preferred to be present.
Generally speaking, I prefer to be present anyway.
I know there are those who get a kick out of their wives having sex behind their backs, but that's not really my thing.
As a candaulist, I take my pleasure in seeing and hearing my wife take hers.
When I'm not present, I don't get that pleasure. All that's left is this dull, more or less masochistic pain.
But this new freedom has enabled my wife to experience new “firsts”:
First date without me,
first hotel room without me,
first « 5 à 7 » without me...
There are more to experiment with: First night without me...
Even if I'm not with her, I still want to know where she is and with whom. I systematically ask her to call me or at least send me a text message.
Once, I even asked her host's webcam to be turned on so I could see them on msn.
It was quite unsettling to see and hear without being physically present.
But frustrating too. Especially as the picture and sound were rotten!
And then sometimes...
One Saturday afternoon, Raphaëlle came back from the dry cleaners quite late.
I didn't even realize it, as I was so busy with my weekend activities. All I knew was that she'd gone to wash a stained comforter.
She kissed me and asked: “Do you love me?
It's a recurring question with her, and I shouldn't have minded, but the peculiar way in which she asked it immediately set off an alarm in me: something was fishy!
And there was.
She told me she'd taken advantage of the wait at the dry cleaners to call one of her “contacts”, a man she didn't know but with whom she'd already chatted on the dating site.
They had gone for coffee in a bar, and the guy had proved so enthusiastic (and no doubt very tempting) that she had accompanied him down a country lane and given him a treat that had obviously pleased him perfectly.
First meeting behind my back...
First blow job without me and behind my back...
Yes, the life of a candaulist is not without surprises.
***
And her love affairs, you may ask.
Dead end.
Her swimming instructor still doesn't want to leave his wife or be unfaithful to her. It's a dead end, but Raph' continues to have incomprehensibly strong feelings for him, which is particularly disturbing for her.
And Phil?
Well, that's just it... Phil, we've seen him again...
Between these contingencies and the availability of our potential partners, we could only have a few and not often.
But my wife wanted to.
She'd had a taste of forbidden pleasures and wanted to try them often.
I wouldn't go so far as to say that she was no longer satisfied with me, but it was clear that she intended to enjoy life before it caught up with her.
And that meant more freedom, the chance to meet people without me necessarily being present.
From the outset, it had been very clear between us: We were going into libertarianism as a couple, but if one of us had solo opportunities, he or she was entitled to take advantage of them.
The only requirement was transparency: we continued to tell each other everything.
So there was no real revolution in our practices, just an evolution: Madame could meet on her own even if, for the first meeting, for safety's sake (you never know who you'll run into), I preferred to be present.
Generally speaking, I prefer to be present anyway.
I know there are those who get a kick out of their wives having sex behind their backs, but that's not really my thing.
As a candaulist, I take my pleasure in seeing and hearing my wife take hers.
When I'm not present, I don't get that pleasure. All that's left is this dull, more or less masochistic pain.
But this new freedom has enabled my wife to experience new “firsts”:
First date without me,
first hotel room without me,
first « 5 à 7 » without me...
There are more to experiment with: First night without me...
Even if I'm not with her, I still want to know where she is and with whom. I systematically ask her to call me or at least send me a text message.
Once, I even asked her host's webcam to be turned on so I could see them on msn.
It was quite unsettling to see and hear without being physically present.
But frustrating too. Especially as the picture and sound were rotten!
And then sometimes...
One Saturday afternoon, Raphaëlle came back from the dry cleaners quite late.
I didn't even realize it, as I was so busy with my weekend activities. All I knew was that she'd gone to wash a stained comforter.
She kissed me and asked: “Do you love me?
It's a recurring question with her, and I shouldn't have minded, but the peculiar way in which she asked it immediately set off an alarm in me: something was fishy!
And there was.
She told me she'd taken advantage of the wait at the dry cleaners to call one of her “contacts”, a man she didn't know but with whom she'd already chatted on the dating site.
They had gone for coffee in a bar, and the guy had proved so enthusiastic (and no doubt very tempting) that she had accompanied him down a country lane and given him a treat that had obviously pleased him perfectly.
First meeting behind my back...
First blow job without me and behind my back...
Yes, the life of a candaulist is not without surprises.
***
And her love affairs, you may ask.
Dead end.
Her swimming instructor still doesn't want to leave his wife or be unfaithful to her. It's a dead end, but Raph' continues to have incomprehensibly strong feelings for him, which is particularly disturbing for her.
And Phil?
Well, that's just it... Phil, we've seen him again...
Re: From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
Dear Frenchie, what is a « 5 à 7 » ?
54321
54321
Re: From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
It's a 5 pm to 7 pm encounter.
Not à simple quickie but not very long also.
A french expression, indeed.
Not à simple quickie but not very long also.
A french expression, indeed.
Re: From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
Vraiment! 
54321
54321
-
nnjcpl2002
- Experienced
- Posts: 172
- Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2010 7:31 am
- Location: Delray Beach, FL
- Contact:
Re: From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
Threesomes. Yes!
I'm certain you will be wonderfully successful within this very workable format. Truly less complicated than the foursome. We evolved into this solution and it has provided plenty of heat and satisfaction for each of us.
I'm certain you will be wonderfully successful within this very workable format. Truly less complicated than the foursome. We evolved into this solution and it has provided plenty of heat and satisfaction for each of us.
Re: From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
Despite Emma's ban, Raph' and Phill kept in touch...
Very episodic contacts, as several months could go by without either of them sending a text message, but contacts nonetheless.
Phill came back to France a few times, but we were never available at those times.
Until a few weeks ago...
Raph' receives a text message: “I'm in Paris next weekend. Fancy a hug..."
This time, we were free.
It didn't take long for our two lovebirds to agree on a time and a place.
The time would be Friday evening and the place would be his hotel... Easy, really.
On the way, I felt my little wife getting nervous. It had been over two and a half years since she'd seen Phill again and she was stressing a bit: “Will he still want me? Will he find me changed?"
But her fears were unfounded...
We met again at the hotel bar and it was as if we'd been seeing each other for a week.
He was still the same: handsome, charming, sincere and attentive.
We ate a snack and told each other what was new (and it had been new for over two years!).
But soon the call of sex was felt.
Both lovers were looking forward to seeing each other again, but more than anything they wanted to get down to the nitty-gritty...
So we went up to his bedroom.
Once again, we chatted for a while, as if we were just there to have a good time and talk about the good old days.
Except that, freed from the lounge's prying eyes, the two rascals were soon touching, kissing and caressing each other... So much so, that it soon became clear that the “approach” phase would be reduced to a minimum.
Already, they were undressing each other while kissing.
I accompanied them discreetly. It was clear to me that, even if it was going to be a threesome, their duet would be the main element of the agape to come.
Right from the start, I sensed that they needed a few moments alone to reacquaint themselves with each other, to rediscover the gestures that had made their first meeting such a magical moment.
Just as well, since I'd left right after work, I hadn't had time to “freshen up” beforehand.
So I slipped into the shower, leaving the two lovers to gently savor the beginning of their reunion...
However, one thing had escaped me: they were in such a hurry that they had no desire to go slow... no need to wait for me to start the serious stuff...
In fact, in the shower I thought I heard a scream coming from the bedroom.
But I said to myself “no, not yet!”
But yes, already...
Once the water was turned off, from what I could hear, there was little doubt that they had definitely kicked it into high gear...
Barely dry, I stepped out with the towel around my waist...
Phill was already deep in the bowels of my Love...
Or more precisely, it was the other way round: Raphaëlle was impaled on Phill's cock, comfortably stretched out on the bed.
She was already actively jerking about on the column of flesh that was investing her womb, and uttering perfectly eloquent cries!
In just a few minutes (dare I say seconds!), my wife had already reached a perfectly decent level of pleasure, no doubt helped by the excitement of the moment.
What I soon realized, however, was that, as during our last interview with Phill, there was no latex barrier covering the large phallus that was shamelessly thrusting between my wife's tender flesh.
I must say, at the time, I was shocked.
Of course, we knew Phill was clean when we last met, but it had been almost 3 years since then, and a lot could have happened in 3 years, especially with a hottie like him.
So it was obvious to me that this relationship had to be protected.
But in their enthusiasm, they had simply “skipped” the essential step!
Phill later assures us that he hasn't had another affair in 3 years.
Fair enough. But I really can't condone such inconsistent, irresponsible behavior.
They could at least have asked themselves... and me.
That's probably what disturbed me for the rest of the evening and cut off some of my excitement.
Although, after a while, I managed to ignore it a little.
In the meantime, it hadn't stopped Raph' from cumming loudly for the first time... A first that would be followed by many more...
After this first round, calm returned a little.
Satisfied with her first orgasm, Raphaëlle took a long, lingering taste of that beautiful cock she had missed so much and which brought back so many happy memories.
She didn't forget me, however, and shared herself between the two of us, moving from one sex to the other...
Then, little by little, she concentrated on mine while Phill began to besogate her from behind... We were back to the configuration of our very first trio: Raph on all fours between us, my penis in her mouth and Phill's planted in her intimacy.
But it didn't last long...
No, it didn't last, as Raphaëlle, carried away by her impulses and overwhelmed by her lover's powerful thrusts, found it harder and harder to control her “apêtits”...
So much so that she ended up biting my penis!
Oh, it was nothing serious or very painful, but it was obvious that from then on I'd have to avoid sticking my dick between her little teeth if I didn't want to leave a piece!
So I let my wife bury her face in the sheets and concentrate solely on the benefits of Phil's back and forth between her loins.
After another lyrical outburst from my wife, they calmed down a little and adopted a more conventional missionary softness.
At least, conventional until I heard my wife whisper:
“I see you coming, you little minx...”
And yes, what she sensed was coming and what I didn't was that, on the occasion of an untimely (or not so untimely) outing or two, Phil had attempted a re-entry two centimetres lower, in a place the naughty boy had already visited once and was dreaming of reinvesting for good.
My darling didn't give in... at least not at first...
But the guy was persuasive... and stubborn!
So much so that at one point I heard my wife utter a more pronounced, higher-pitched scream.
I knew immediately that Phil had succeeded.
“Is that the little puck?” I asked for simple validation.
“-YES!” she confirmed with a grunt.
Then, as her lover sank deeper, she whispered “gently!”, “gently!”, “slowly!”
She'd already felt her pass once.
Clearly, this time she wanted to take pleasure in it.
And she did! There was no doubt about it.
Despite his advantageous measurements, Phil managed to insert himself fully and then didn't move for a long time, no doubt savoring the palpitations of my wife's anal mucosa all around his embedded shaft.
This was the third time Raphaëlle had accepted such penetration outside the couple, if we count the aborted first one with Phil.
But for me, it was the first time I'd actually had a front-row seat to watch a large phallus inexorably and completely sink into my wife's rectum, right to the end, until the testicles came to rest on the little white buttocks I knew so well.
Once again, it was an unsettling, almost overwhelming experience, especially in the absence of a latex barrier.
The impression that Phil was appropriating an intimacy that until then had only been shared by the two of us.
They stayed glued together for a long time, Phil making little movements that each time triggered sighs or cries of pleasure from my wife.
I suppose he too would have liked to cum there, deep in his magnificent little ass, but my wife decided otherwise: she couldn't take it anymore and suggested a gentle withdrawal followed by a little break...
And the after-break was just as torrid as the before.
Then there was another pause... then another resumption...
Phil wasn't letting up.
Honestly, I was in awe of the guy. He'd been going back and forth between my wife's loins for over an hour now, without faltering or slackening.
Everything in control!
The same could not be said for my darling!
She couldn't take it anymore. Her cries had turned into plaintive moans that sometimes turned into sobs, such was the intensity of the pleasure.
All I could hear was “oh yes!”, “there!”, “again!”, “yes there!” “yes!” « YES ! »
So eloquent !
If I'd been the guy, I'd have cut the crap a long time ago.
But not him.
Yet he finally cracked, after an hour and a quarter of almost uninterrupted fucking.
I heard his breath quicken. He accentuated, if that were still possible, the power of his intromissions. Raphaëlle was almost crying in his arms.
Then he let go.
But once again, all in control, without frenzied flight.
I don't think I've ever heard a guy cum so loudly and for so long, except maybe in porn movies, but then you know it's overplayed.
Phil, on the other hand, wasn't acting.
For seconds that seemed like an eternity, he let out long moans of deliverance.
With each moan, I could see his buttocks contract to send a rasp of ejaculate deep into my wife's intimacy.
Considering how long it lasted, she must have had quite a dose.
That was it.
Phil had possessed my wife like she had rarely been possessed before.
And I, on the other side of the room, was hard as a rock.
So, once they'd uncoupled, while they'd barely come to their senses, I approached the bed.
I've often read here about the joy of taking one's wife just after she's received her lover's homage and while she's still « creamed ».
There, in front of my wife, who still had her legs spread, her vulva offered, reddened and soaked, I said to myself that it was now or never to try the experiment... She seemed up for it...
So I leaned over her...
I didn't dwell on her pussy, which had a particularly strong smell of semen.
I had no intention of licking her. That wasn't really my thing...
So I penetrated her without any preamble or difficulty.
Testimonials say that in such cases, you feel like you're swimming in a space that's too big, too wide.
And that's exactly what it's like! The dilation caused by the considerable girth and the extreme lubrication provided by the combination of female pleasure and the first male ejaculation really give this impression.
Except that, unlike the other testimonials (some of which, let's face it, are pure fantasy), it didn't particularly excite me.
Worse still! Deprived of valid penile sensations, I even started to loose my hardness very quickly and had to give up without being able to go all the way and without mingling my pleasure with Phil's own.
A bit frustrating, it's true.
Well, that was the end of that memorable evening. We left Phil with the promise of seeing each other again soon, which never happened.
Very episodic contacts, as several months could go by without either of them sending a text message, but contacts nonetheless.
Phill came back to France a few times, but we were never available at those times.
Until a few weeks ago...
Raph' receives a text message: “I'm in Paris next weekend. Fancy a hug..."
This time, we were free.
It didn't take long for our two lovebirds to agree on a time and a place.
The time would be Friday evening and the place would be his hotel... Easy, really.
On the way, I felt my little wife getting nervous. It had been over two and a half years since she'd seen Phill again and she was stressing a bit: “Will he still want me? Will he find me changed?"
But her fears were unfounded...
We met again at the hotel bar and it was as if we'd been seeing each other for a week.
He was still the same: handsome, charming, sincere and attentive.
We ate a snack and told each other what was new (and it had been new for over two years!).
But soon the call of sex was felt.
Both lovers were looking forward to seeing each other again, but more than anything they wanted to get down to the nitty-gritty...
So we went up to his bedroom.
Once again, we chatted for a while, as if we were just there to have a good time and talk about the good old days.
Except that, freed from the lounge's prying eyes, the two rascals were soon touching, kissing and caressing each other... So much so, that it soon became clear that the “approach” phase would be reduced to a minimum.
Already, they were undressing each other while kissing.
I accompanied them discreetly. It was clear to me that, even if it was going to be a threesome, their duet would be the main element of the agape to come.
Right from the start, I sensed that they needed a few moments alone to reacquaint themselves with each other, to rediscover the gestures that had made their first meeting such a magical moment.
Just as well, since I'd left right after work, I hadn't had time to “freshen up” beforehand.
So I slipped into the shower, leaving the two lovers to gently savor the beginning of their reunion...
However, one thing had escaped me: they were in such a hurry that they had no desire to go slow... no need to wait for me to start the serious stuff...
In fact, in the shower I thought I heard a scream coming from the bedroom.
But I said to myself “no, not yet!”
But yes, already...
Once the water was turned off, from what I could hear, there was little doubt that they had definitely kicked it into high gear...
Barely dry, I stepped out with the towel around my waist...
Phill was already deep in the bowels of my Love...
Or more precisely, it was the other way round: Raphaëlle was impaled on Phill's cock, comfortably stretched out on the bed.
She was already actively jerking about on the column of flesh that was investing her womb, and uttering perfectly eloquent cries!
In just a few minutes (dare I say seconds!), my wife had already reached a perfectly decent level of pleasure, no doubt helped by the excitement of the moment.
What I soon realized, however, was that, as during our last interview with Phill, there was no latex barrier covering the large phallus that was shamelessly thrusting between my wife's tender flesh.
I must say, at the time, I was shocked.
Of course, we knew Phill was clean when we last met, but it had been almost 3 years since then, and a lot could have happened in 3 years, especially with a hottie like him.
So it was obvious to me that this relationship had to be protected.
But in their enthusiasm, they had simply “skipped” the essential step!
Phill later assures us that he hasn't had another affair in 3 years.
Fair enough. But I really can't condone such inconsistent, irresponsible behavior.
They could at least have asked themselves... and me.
That's probably what disturbed me for the rest of the evening and cut off some of my excitement.
Although, after a while, I managed to ignore it a little.
In the meantime, it hadn't stopped Raph' from cumming loudly for the first time... A first that would be followed by many more...
After this first round, calm returned a little.
Satisfied with her first orgasm, Raphaëlle took a long, lingering taste of that beautiful cock she had missed so much and which brought back so many happy memories.
She didn't forget me, however, and shared herself between the two of us, moving from one sex to the other...
Then, little by little, she concentrated on mine while Phill began to besogate her from behind... We were back to the configuration of our very first trio: Raph on all fours between us, my penis in her mouth and Phill's planted in her intimacy.
But it didn't last long...
No, it didn't last, as Raphaëlle, carried away by her impulses and overwhelmed by her lover's powerful thrusts, found it harder and harder to control her “apêtits”...
So much so that she ended up biting my penis!
Oh, it was nothing serious or very painful, but it was obvious that from then on I'd have to avoid sticking my dick between her little teeth if I didn't want to leave a piece!
So I let my wife bury her face in the sheets and concentrate solely on the benefits of Phil's back and forth between her loins.
After another lyrical outburst from my wife, they calmed down a little and adopted a more conventional missionary softness.
At least, conventional until I heard my wife whisper:
“I see you coming, you little minx...”
And yes, what she sensed was coming and what I didn't was that, on the occasion of an untimely (or not so untimely) outing or two, Phil had attempted a re-entry two centimetres lower, in a place the naughty boy had already visited once and was dreaming of reinvesting for good.
My darling didn't give in... at least not at first...
But the guy was persuasive... and stubborn!
So much so that at one point I heard my wife utter a more pronounced, higher-pitched scream.
I knew immediately that Phil had succeeded.
“Is that the little puck?” I asked for simple validation.
“-YES!” she confirmed with a grunt.
Then, as her lover sank deeper, she whispered “gently!”, “gently!”, “slowly!”
She'd already felt her pass once.
Clearly, this time she wanted to take pleasure in it.
And she did! There was no doubt about it.
Despite his advantageous measurements, Phil managed to insert himself fully and then didn't move for a long time, no doubt savoring the palpitations of my wife's anal mucosa all around his embedded shaft.
This was the third time Raphaëlle had accepted such penetration outside the couple, if we count the aborted first one with Phil.
But for me, it was the first time I'd actually had a front-row seat to watch a large phallus inexorably and completely sink into my wife's rectum, right to the end, until the testicles came to rest on the little white buttocks I knew so well.
Once again, it was an unsettling, almost overwhelming experience, especially in the absence of a latex barrier.
The impression that Phil was appropriating an intimacy that until then had only been shared by the two of us.
They stayed glued together for a long time, Phil making little movements that each time triggered sighs or cries of pleasure from my wife.
I suppose he too would have liked to cum there, deep in his magnificent little ass, but my wife decided otherwise: she couldn't take it anymore and suggested a gentle withdrawal followed by a little break...
And the after-break was just as torrid as the before.
Then there was another pause... then another resumption...
Phil wasn't letting up.
Honestly, I was in awe of the guy. He'd been going back and forth between my wife's loins for over an hour now, without faltering or slackening.
Everything in control!
The same could not be said for my darling!
She couldn't take it anymore. Her cries had turned into plaintive moans that sometimes turned into sobs, such was the intensity of the pleasure.
All I could hear was “oh yes!”, “there!”, “again!”, “yes there!” “yes!” « YES ! »
So eloquent !
If I'd been the guy, I'd have cut the crap a long time ago.
But not him.
Yet he finally cracked, after an hour and a quarter of almost uninterrupted fucking.
I heard his breath quicken. He accentuated, if that were still possible, the power of his intromissions. Raphaëlle was almost crying in his arms.
Then he let go.
But once again, all in control, without frenzied flight.
I don't think I've ever heard a guy cum so loudly and for so long, except maybe in porn movies, but then you know it's overplayed.
Phil, on the other hand, wasn't acting.
For seconds that seemed like an eternity, he let out long moans of deliverance.
With each moan, I could see his buttocks contract to send a rasp of ejaculate deep into my wife's intimacy.
Considering how long it lasted, she must have had quite a dose.
That was it.
Phil had possessed my wife like she had rarely been possessed before.
And I, on the other side of the room, was hard as a rock.
So, once they'd uncoupled, while they'd barely come to their senses, I approached the bed.
I've often read here about the joy of taking one's wife just after she's received her lover's homage and while she's still « creamed ».
There, in front of my wife, who still had her legs spread, her vulva offered, reddened and soaked, I said to myself that it was now or never to try the experiment... She seemed up for it...
So I leaned over her...
I didn't dwell on her pussy, which had a particularly strong smell of semen.
I had no intention of licking her. That wasn't really my thing...
So I penetrated her without any preamble or difficulty.
Testimonials say that in such cases, you feel like you're swimming in a space that's too big, too wide.
And that's exactly what it's like! The dilation caused by the considerable girth and the extreme lubrication provided by the combination of female pleasure and the first male ejaculation really give this impression.
Except that, unlike the other testimonials (some of which, let's face it, are pure fantasy), it didn't particularly excite me.
Worse still! Deprived of valid penile sensations, I even started to loose my hardness very quickly and had to give up without being able to go all the way and without mingling my pleasure with Phil's own.
A bit frustrating, it's true.
Well, that was the end of that memorable evening. We left Phil with the promise of seeing each other again soon, which never happened.
-
nnjcpl2002
- Experienced
- Posts: 172
- Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2010 7:31 am
- Location: Delray Beach, FL
- Contact:
Re: From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
As to your sloppy seconds experience, it's quite true that there is a definite lack of friction. So the normal tactile sensation on one's cock is largely absent. But, for me, the mental stimulation I felt, knowing that my wife's stretched and super-lubed pussy was filled with her lover's fresh hot cum, was enough to bring me to a full and powerful orgasm!
So it's great to have a regular bull/lover for the wife, so that we may be comfortable allowing him to fill her with plenty of his cum.
It was once explained to us by a medical expert on the subject, that orgasms are primarily triggered by our brains.
It makes sense, really, and when we think about it, isn't this why the threesome works so well? The eroticism of observing our brides enjoying another cock, her elevated emotions by being naughty, and his pleasure taking her in front of her husband. That's all mental stimulation, and in his case, I have learned that her long term bull gets off on cuckolding me! He puts on a little performance, sometimes requiring my involvement, sometimes overtly excluding me. He runs the show, that turns him on, and that turns me on. All three benefit!
I believe that these mental phenomena are what drives us to cuckolding and threesomes.
Thanks for sharing your hot experience. More please?
So it's great to have a regular bull/lover for the wife, so that we may be comfortable allowing him to fill her with plenty of his cum.
It was once explained to us by a medical expert on the subject, that orgasms are primarily triggered by our brains.
It makes sense, really, and when we think about it, isn't this why the threesome works so well? The eroticism of observing our brides enjoying another cock, her elevated emotions by being naughty, and his pleasure taking her in front of her husband. That's all mental stimulation, and in his case, I have learned that her long term bull gets off on cuckolding me! He puts on a little performance, sometimes requiring my involvement, sometimes overtly excluding me. He runs the show, that turns him on, and that turns me on. All three benefit!
I believe that these mental phenomena are what drives us to cuckolding and threesomes.
Thanks for sharing your hot experience. More please?
Re: From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
Indeed, the mental aspect is crucial.
Perhaps I wasn't mentally “mature” enough to appreciate the eroticism of the situation and to get the excitement out of it.
This confirms that each person's experience is unique.
You have to test to find out.
My only regret is that I didn't have the opportunity to take the experience further.
For, indeed, this is the end of my story...
Perhaps I wasn't mentally “mature” enough to appreciate the eroticism of the situation and to get the excitement out of it.
This confirms that each person's experience is unique.
You have to test to find out.
My only regret is that I didn't have the opportunity to take the experience further.
For, indeed, this is the end of my story...
Re: From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
No, we never saw Phil again.
It turns out that things weren't quite clear with his wife: he'd told us that she'd let him do whatever he wanted on condition that she knew nothing about it, except that, following an “indiscretion” by my darling (she sent Phil a text message and in his absence, it was his wife who read it) there was obviously a “reframing” between the two of them. Clearly, he could do whatever he wanted except with Raph’, who remained a “forbidden zone”. Did Emma sense a serious threat? Good question.
So, not wanting to stir up trouble in their relationship, my darling preferred to leave it at that with him.
Anyway, we haven't heard from him since. Monsieur must have been seriously wound up.
This was the lesson of the story for Raphaelle: never get involved with men in a relationship: too complicated.
Since then, after her last two solo adventures, the Miss has had no desire to get naughty anymore...
Hard to live with?
Not really, no.
It's true that it spiced up our married life, but it was always clear to us: On the one hand, it was only a plus and not the main thing in our lives, and on the other, it had to be a pleasure for both of us. As soon as one of us didn't want to continue, we'd stop.
So, as the Miss doesn't want to continue (she thinks it's not like her, that she's getting “lost” in this kind of relationship), we stopped.
I admit I was surprised by her sudden (overnight) decision to stop, but I respect her wishes.
Do I miss it?
Sometimes, yes, but not that much. And then there are the memories...
On the other hand, she's still in love (platonically for the moment) with her swimming teacher.... So you never know, it could start up again one day, who knows...
The end.
For now………
It turns out that things weren't quite clear with his wife: he'd told us that she'd let him do whatever he wanted on condition that she knew nothing about it, except that, following an “indiscretion” by my darling (she sent Phil a text message and in his absence, it was his wife who read it) there was obviously a “reframing” between the two of them. Clearly, he could do whatever he wanted except with Raph’, who remained a “forbidden zone”. Did Emma sense a serious threat? Good question.
So, not wanting to stir up trouble in their relationship, my darling preferred to leave it at that with him.
Anyway, we haven't heard from him since. Monsieur must have been seriously wound up.
This was the lesson of the story for Raphaelle: never get involved with men in a relationship: too complicated.
Since then, after her last two solo adventures, the Miss has had no desire to get naughty anymore...
Hard to live with?
Not really, no.
It's true that it spiced up our married life, but it was always clear to us: On the one hand, it was only a plus and not the main thing in our lives, and on the other, it had to be a pleasure for both of us. As soon as one of us didn't want to continue, we'd stop.
So, as the Miss doesn't want to continue (she thinks it's not like her, that she's getting “lost” in this kind of relationship), we stopped.
I admit I was surprised by her sudden (overnight) decision to stop, but I respect her wishes.
Do I miss it?
Sometimes, yes, but not that much. And then there are the memories...
On the other hand, she's still in love (platonically for the moment) with her swimming teacher.... So you never know, it could start up again one day, who knows...
The end.
For now………
Re: From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
Indeed. Who knows?...
54321
54321
-
nnjcpl2002
- Experienced
- Posts: 172
- Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2010 7:31 am
- Location: Delray Beach, FL
- Contact:
Re: From swinging to hotwifing, a true story
Thanks Frenchie!