Wife with Single Young Guy

Note: Just to set the stage, I am a 51 year old, 5'9" blond weighing about 140 lbs. I like to think I keep myself in good shape and have been doing Pilates and other exercise the past 5 years to really get into shape. Hope you guys are nicer on this than the last draft I submitted!

My husband had been planning our trip to Vegas. It was clear that he was expecting was beyond what we had done in the past. I didn't want to disappoint him, and I wanted to see if I could push through the levels of guilt and doubt I was feeling. The feelings of intrepidness ebb and flow. I want to please him, I want to test myself, yet I am wracked with emotion.

It's pleasure vs. pain fighting for space within me. Letting go of norms, inhibitions, having dirty dark secrets and desires drives me to want to go deeper and darker. The pain of how I feel about myself, what he might think of me, what I have lowered myself into becoming starts to escalate.

Wondering what he thinks of me as I let go when I am in those dark places, enjoying myself and letting strangers bang me like I am nothing more than a lowly whore makes my heart shudder. He pushes, I want to be pushed, then I balk, I get scared, I lose confidence, it becomes almost too dramatic in my head. I hate that feeling. It requires me to let go, trust blindly, all in the name of lascivious pleasure. There are times I hope he will call it off, there are other times I can't wait to put on those slutty clothes and be sent out to get used. I love sex, when I am in those clubs and in that state of mind, I feel like I could just go all night.

My mind pushes out all negativity, and I allow myself to go to a place that few could understand, none would respect.

Playing in this underground arena is an escape, I feel like I am making up for lost time. When I walk into those swinger clubs, I feel proud, sexy, and ready to play. It's truly an alter ego I have allowed to develop, yet one that will have limits. I justify it by telling myself that I am with likeminded people, we are all adults, there to enjoy a lifestyle that most find vulgar and repulsive. It is a place we both equally enjoy, and even though I know we handle it well, I still wonder down deep what he really thinks of me when I go into that state of mind where I block him out and turn into a slut.

He has always had a fantasy of me hooking up with a single guy and letting me go with him alone. I have to admit, I think it is hot, like a one night stand that he is setting up for me. Yet, I am extremely picky about who is selected, as if I should even have that privilege. Ask any guy if he wants sex, and he will say yes, it's not that I am anything special, I am just available, and I am just being put out there. That mindset is what makes me feel so incredibly humiliated, cheap, and sleazy.

When I saw the guy he wanted to hook me up with his picture, I have to admit, I was immediately interested. He had a great body, then when he sent me a picture of his face, I had to have him. I tried to temper my enthusiasm, but I am sure my husband saw through my veiled attempt. Texting this guy at first felt good, I was fielding texts from him and my husband at the same time. It was like I had competing attention, it fed my ego. But then I pulled back because the guilt took over.

This shouldn't be happening, I should not be so enthusiastic to hook up with this guy, but then I justify it by saying this is my part.

For this trip, I had to push past my own demons and get to a mental state that I knew I would not retract. Those demons are insecurities that surface when the envelope of play gets pushed. It was not easy to get to that place, but I did.

Friday night in Vegas came and the plans were made. I started to get incredibly nervous and wanted to call it off. I didn't want to meet this guy and go to the club alone. I just wanted to be with my husband and suddenly wanted no part of what I was about to do. Yet, I did it anyway because the guilty pleasure of what might happen outweighed potential remorse.

I changed my clothes after a drink at the bar, came back and sat with my husband and we finalized the plans. I felt too excited inside, this was not right, I have everything I want in him, why do I allow myself to enjoy this? It fucks with my mind, part of the penance of having these dark desires, a penance I deserve.

The moment he left, I felt so scared yet excited. This was a first. I wanted to know what he was thinking, part of me wanted him to call it off. Part of me wanted it to happen. I was so torn, I had to choose one path of thought. I chose desire. He was a nice looking guy and for a split second, it felt like I was meeting a date for the first time after meeting online. It was a deja vu moment.

Then reality set in as he was ready to head to the club. He treated me as though we were a couple, arm around me, kissing me in the back of the cab, my hand feeling his hardness through his jeans. I will admit that I liked it and I knew I shouldn't. I was enjoying myself. We walked into the club and he held my hand as we walked around, we looked like a couple. I explained to him the different areas and I was ready to get down to business, now!

We went into the big room, he laid down and I pulled his pants down as I climbed on top of him, ready to suck that hardness out of him. He seemed a little uneasy and I reassured him that we were doing just fine. He wanted to be alone, so we went to get a side room. I walked over with confidence, asked the guy for a room and led him in as we closed the door. It is such a seedy, dirty place. The bed, the mirror, the ugly lights, old carpeting and walls that need a paint job make what is about to happen feel so horribly filthy. There I am, dressed like a slut, wet, horny, ready to let this guy fuck me. What the hell am I doing here, and why do I like it so much? He left to get a condom and he ordered me to lay down and take my clothes off. He left, I pulled off my top and hiked up my skirt, spread legs, ready for him to take my pussy.

He returned, undressed in a hurry and pushed hard inside of me. He was relentless, banging me hard, it felt like I was being pounded all the way into my gut. Gut pounding sex, a whore at her best. He was pumping me faster and faster, I was cuming and I knew he wanted to cum hard. I was moaning, breathing deep and hard and begging him to fuck me harder and faster. My voice was demanding and it pushed him to where he needed to be. He grabbed my tits hard and twisted them as though they weren't even attached to me, toys to be played with - I have to admit I liked it. As he was about ready to cum, he put his hand on my throat, I wanted to react, but didn't. Then, from nowhere, he smacked my face. In that moment, I was reduced to nothing more than a low class slut that did not deserve respect. He came, I did my duty. I success felt full of guilt. I felt dirty and filthy. I suddenly get out of this place and go back to being the girl that you know as sweet and kind and loving.

To be continued