This is my first submission, any and all advice, thoughts, or comments are very welcome.
I would like to thank Heyall for all the patience and work he did helping me edit this work.
I hope the reader will enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing and working on it.
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Awakening of My Hotwife Partner
Chapter 1 Part 1
Now, these have been some of the most interesting and dynamic I have had since I was a teenager.
One thinks that as we get older, we will have sex less, we will mature, we will settle down; basically, the older we grow the less we will explore. Our libidos will decrease, and we will become sexless, lust-less creatures over time.
What I am about to tell you my friends, and you're about to read, is the story of the past few months and, oh, I could not have been more wrong about my conceptions about what happened once I grew up. I hope these chronicles will blow your mind, just as I had my mind blown away.
We start this story as we would start any other story, I must first introduce myself. It is a true pleasure.
I guess you can say I am, more or less, an average man; maybe, I'm being less than truthful here. I am about 5 ft 6 and 130 lb. I am what most would consider skinny; however, it is pure lean muscle gained from years of climbing and doing endurance sports. I often joke that I have a Dorito-shaped torso. I have a thin waist, my ribs can be seen a bit, long flowy brown hair, short-cropped brown beard.
If you look closely, you can see a small number of discrete acne scars. Now, having said the above, a body is just a body; so, most importantly my fellow reader, all I will say but I am as comfortable as I have ever been with myself, and I have no desire to change my body in any way shape or form. Comfort in oneself and being happy with how you look is okay for me, I wouldn't change me, just as I hope you wouldn't change yourself.
I am 30 years old now. I'd say I'm a bit impulsive, but not overly so, maybe this is what people meant when they said you mature with age. My long brown hair and my beard give me a look older than I am, something I have always hated; however, looks are just superficial. Above all, what do I care? Age, for better or for worse, is just a number as I soon came to find out.
As you can see, I'm an average person, unremarkable in most ways, let me present myself. I will present myself in a non-remarkable fashion with an unremarkable name Mr. Smith or John. Yes, I believe this is the proper introduction. The name goes perfectly for me, I am one person, but I can be any person. You might not know me if you walk across me on the streets. So, keep an eye out for me, I might be sitting next to you, and you will not even know that you know my deepest sexual secrets. Maybe just smile and wink, if I wink back, you'll know.
Seven years ago, I met the most beautiful, funny, loving, and caring person I could have ever met. She is not the most outgoing person, nor the most confident. She was quite a reserved woman; however, little could I have imagined that she would grow into a blossoming young woman. She is two years my junior, but once more, age is but a mere construct.
One may choose to describe her as many things, but average would not be one of the words you would use. Standing at 5ft 1'' and weighing in at just 95 lbs. She is as petite as they come, with a beautiful small frame. You may think that that's too little, but for her stature, it fits her just perfectly. Her white skin is white as snow and has blond flowing hair that reaches just under her delectable breasts. A smile that can light up the night. She has a glow about herself that turns heads wherever she may go, though she very rarely notices. Simply put, she is one to remember.
A remarkable woman needs a remarkable and unique name for my telling of the events, so we will call her Pauline. A soul with an ember that needs coaxing, slowly glowing to become the raging fire she would soon become.
While this may be my story, and I will give you many details about our bodies in the travels of the pages, feel free to gloss over them lightly if you'd like. While you may try to imagine me as John Smith, I have kept myself vague in case your type is more a black-eyed, short-haired, full of muscle, 40-year-old man, be my guest. Let the words roll over your mind and make this as much yours as you wish, I will not be offended.
However, I urge you to not imagine Pauline as anything different. The ways I will describe Pauline are perfect. And a woman, a unique woman, needs to be imagined just as the perfection and embodiment of the goddess Aphrodite that she is.
Seeing as the memories you are about to read are full of the tale of or sexual awakenings, you will naturally require some sexual descriptions. Descriptions of our bodies, how we look, how we feel, so why don't we get them over with? Unorthodox, I realize, however you will be able to read ahead when I'm telling my story. I will be able to dispense with the generals and just focus on the specifics. It is also a manner in which, if your heart so desires to be able to imagine this as your story, or part of the fantasy, feel free to substitute appearances with whatever your heart's most desires.
I will start with myself again. A very slim body, by no means without muscles, I have a slightly defined six-pack. My body is not one of a bodybuilder, but lean and strong muscles in almost every part of the body. My penis, while not impressive, has never failed me thus far, neither with Pauline nor before her. It can be considered a bit above average at 7 inches with a normal girth.
The one peculiarity you could say I have is that I have trichotillomania. This is a condition where I start pulling out my hairs one by one; thankfully, it is now contained to my body hair. To avoid pulling the hairs out I shave my body completely smooth at least once a week, if not more, else I will start to pull them out as easily as I can grip them. Not one single hair in my body, a problem maybe, but a relatively small one that can be fixed with a razor is not an issue for me or my partner.
Pauline on the other hand... She is a sight to remember, one that once you see will consume your dreams. Her skin is white as snow and smoother than the finest silk. Unlike me, she cannot hold a tan to save her life, but that is perfect. She has the most beautiful alabaster skin. She is not very muscular, but she has a nice, toned six-pack, just the way I love it.
The most perfect highlight of her body is her soft, but rather firm A cups. As you can imagine they've fit my hands perfectly, but most importantly, they are made for my mouth and fit in it perfectly, just the way breasts should. After all, anything over a mouthful is a waste. She has thick thighs, not overly large, just perfect. It is as if they are made to hold my head in place when I am between them. She has a gorgeous body. She has a small amount of hair right over her vagina, growing just at the right length and just enough where you wouldn't consider it bushy, but not so little you couldn't see, feel, or play with it. As I said, Pauline is the perfect embodiment of a goddess.
Now here's the thing about sexual awakenings. We read about them, and you would think it straightforward. I'd give you a look, you give me a look, a moment and suddenly the protagonists are right in the middle of a full swing orgy one page later. The video industry has us believing a simple smile is all you need to have your clothes thrown over the couch and do things you'd never imagine, in the middle of a gang bang being filmed two minutes later. However, the reality of it is that it's much more subtle, much slower, much more loving, and caring, and filled with doubt. So, bear with me as I tell you how it all started. You have the specifics, so now close your eyes, breathe, relax and enjoy my story, above all, make it your story...
I guess you could say it starts in a very unassuming manner. She startles me with a simple exasperated sigh on a Friday afternoon. We are sitting after work, just relaxing on the couch winding down from the week's activities. I guess any of you can relate to a stressful week. Heavily sighing, and blowing out, she drops her phone on the couch.
"He's doing it again," she breathes.
I respond with a quizzical look, "What do you mean love?"