#3 in the new Blondie Saga
Young southern hotwife scores her first bar pickup
I couldn't possibly have imagined how willingly my 25-year-old wife, Blondie, was going to take to her hotwife role after her first experience with another man. But she did, so unreservedly so in fact, that once she gained a bit more experience with a few more men, she eventually became confident enough to occasionally pick them up on her own, usually after she'd gone with "the girls" from the office for happy hour, then stayed on after her coworkers had gone home. She'd bring her newest acquisitions home for the night, dressing up for them in her sexy lingerie, nylons and garterbelts, then dancing and stripping for their entertainment before fellating and fucking them throughout the night and again the following morning.
I had become accustomed to waking up to the early morning gasps and grunts and subtle shiftings of the bed as my little bayou beauty nakedly embraced yet another, more than likely never-to-be-seen-again stranger, kissing him hotly and hungrily, stroking his erection in increasingly heated foreplay. Usually I was fully awake by the time Blondie pulled her latest lover between her legs and took him inside, giving him a last, parting taste of her sweet treat before he had to make his dawn departure. Occasionally they would be fully engaged by the time I woke, but either way, I always got to witness the best part, the creamy finish, when yet another stranger seeded my lovely wife, urged along by spicy talk sprinkled with her naughty Louisiana French sexual expressions.
These early morning matings were usually quickies with Blondie's tight, talented twat bringing these guys to a usually quick, intense climax, garnering a final liquid consignment from them before walking them to the door and kissing them farewell with a last tease of tasty tongue. Should they be particularly attractive, remarkably talented or exceptionally endowed, she would most likely give them her phone number and suggest an encore visit.
Most of these anonymous assignations, however, were simply one-offs, sources of simple, spontaneous sex between strangers, casual couplings made more memorable by their transient, no-strings-attached passion. Even the lesser pickups, however, rated that early morning quickie, that
one for the road
and a warm goodbye kiss or two at our front door, leaving them to drive away wondering forever at their excessive good fortune in getting picked up the previous evening by such a gorgeous, sexy little slut.
But the morning of this particular story occurred early on in our newly spawned hot-wifing lifestyle, when Blondie had been to bed with but a few men, and this young fellow in our bed happened to be the very first of her sexual partners to be picked up in a bar. While she'd been giving the lucky boy an amorous
adios
at the front door, I'd been in the kitchen building Bloody Marys. After dallying at the door over a few, lingering, loving kisses, she'd stopped at the kitchen doorway and urged, "Hurry it
up
, Rick—I really
need
that little pick-me-up
now
, okay?"
As Blondie turned away, I saw a shiny, tell-tale trail of semen tracking down her inner thigh, evidence certain of her recent pleasures. After a trip to the bathroom for peeing, brushing her blond hair, and applying crimson lipstick, all welcome visual indications of her further sexual intentions, she returned to bed. Blondie had wakened horny, quite normal for her after a long evening of repeated sexual acts with a stranger, and apparently the early-morning quickie with the boy had only intensified her arousal, boding well for me.
Piling pillows against the mirrored headboard, she reclined against them, her shapely legs splayed out in a brazenly wanton pose, a depraved smile on her lovely face. That pose was my obvious invitation to a party—the freshly-fucked slutwife flaunting her hairy little playpen and the glistening seminal fluids left there mere minutes earlier by her too soon departed young stud, self-congratulatory confirmation of her husband's just completed cuckolding.
She'd not bothered to wipe away the trail of semen on her thigh either, letting it dry to a dull whitish track, further mocking evidence of her night of illicit lust and infidelity. She lay there smiling with smug satisfaction at what she'd been doing with yet another virile young man while her older husband watched. She was wallowing in our recent shared depravity, and wanting, I strongly suspected, to quite literally rub her husband's face in it.
I handed her a drink then fired up a joint as I took a seat on the edge of the bed. We shared the joint, sipping our drinks, Blondie watching me with a lip-twisting, smug, self-satisfied smirk, or as she would call it,
un petit sourire satisfait
. As I gazed at the mess the young stranger had made of her pussy, it was apparent my dissolute wife had made no attempt to clean it when she'd been in the bathroom. After having sex with only a handful of other men, she'd quickly caught on to how much I loved this aftermath part of our hotwife/cuckold lifestyle, when her cunt was a semen-slick disaster zone—but also as much of a pleasure zone as an unpoliced red light district.
Watching me now, Blondie purred, "My
lord
, that big ol' broad-shouldered cutie was
un jeune taureau
pour sûr
(a young bull for sure)
.
Did you see how he got off in me again this mornin'? An' that was after comin'
une telle quantité énorme
(such a huge amount) in me a coupla times last night,
tu sais mon amour
(you know my love)?"
She giggled, "Well,
of course
you did—you were layin' right there watchin him do it, weren't you,
mon
chéri
?" She waited a moment then teased, "An' I'm sure it looks
un gâchis
(a mess) from where you're sittin' right now, mmm?"
My freshly-fucked little French
femme
was correct about my watching him do it, although it was more accurately a matter of
them
doing it, as she had been a fully passionate participant in the process that produced the mess of carnal essences and effusions now between her legs. I'd lain there on my side, my face propped on one palm, my erection in the other, tingling with acute awareness of the indescribably pleasurable sexual sensations my wife's warm tight pussy was imparting to that young man's large cock.
How very well I knew, after six years of marriage to this lovely creature, all those exquisite enticements of enwrapping wet warmth that felt like a soft oiled glove gently gripping your hardness, sensations that were now, as I watched, sending a repetitious series of signals to the sexual pleasure centers of young Ronaldo's brain that it was nearing time for him to expel his potent and plentiful reproductive seed into this wet and warmly welcoming incubator.
With a sigh of tired pleasure, Blondie said, "Mama sure didn't want that
jeune
goujon
(young stud) to leave but he's gotta go to work. I gave him my phone number—straight out told him I wouldn't mind gettin' some more of that big ol'
brune bite mexicaine
(brown Mexican dick)."
She languidly pointed a red nail at her gooey groin, teasing, "An' a whole lot more of this stuff."
I got the
distinct
impression she was drawing my attention back there for a reason.
From the very beginning of our licentious lifestyle, we have never asked Blondie's sexual partners to wear condoms, even her many subsequent bar pickups of whom this guy had been the first. When we were still in the fantasizing stages of her hotwife development, she had asked me multiple times if I would insist the guys wear rubbers to prevent a problematic pregnancy or protect against STD's. I had responded that it was up to her, so consequently, with her Cajun capacity for high-risk, hell-raising fun, she's fucked
all
of them bareback.
Blondie
really
dislikes rubbers, believing they interfere with the sheer, raw, physical pleasure of sex as it was truly meant to be: a series of lubricious yet frictive, tactile, pleasure excitations culminating in the fulminant, eruptive planting of a man's procreant seed deep inside a woman's womb. With her usual bayou bluntness, my little swamp fox would probably characterize that more succinctly:
une bonne baise désordonnée chaude
(a good, hot, messy fuck)! For my promiscuous
épouse
, sex with other men was almost a challenge—the thrill of being able to work her snug little snatch in subtle, insistent movements to ensure that she and these casual partners succeeded in the most intimate of human activities, the sowing of their seed inside her.
Now there she lay, legs sprawled, flaunting the liquid leavings of their impassioned labors. With a dreamy smile, she lazily lapsed into South Louisiana idioms,
"Mmm, hmm, sugar, feels like that hung, young stud-muffin done come a bucketful in there, just like he promised me he could when he was braggin' in the bar last night."
Blondie teased, "But as the sayin' goes, 'It ain't braggin' if you can actually do it,' huh, cher?"
Beneath her matted pubic hair I could see a thin, gleaming stream of the lad's seminal fluid still leaking from my wife's vulva and answered, "Yep—he can do it—it's
still
running out of you."
Smiling drowsily, she murmured, with a growing trace of her Cajun inflection, "Yeah, I can feel it, an' it prolly will for a while—like his girlfriend says, that
jeune taureau
(young bull) has
très grand caniques
(very big balls) an' he sure enough comes like a bull—he was shootin' it up in there,
très profond
(very deep) with that
très grand, très magnifique bite
(big gorgeous cock)."
"That thing's not only long, but
très grand épaiss
(very thick), as well. I don't mean to overdo it, babe, but that big beautiful cock felt
vraiment merveilleux
(really wonderful) in me, cher."
I just grinned and nodded, loving the way my little Cajun sexpot so frequently lapsed into her Louisiana French when sexually aroused. Injecting the Gallic expressions somehow seemed to heighten the delicious decadence of the moment as my dissolute little temptress continued her goading, intended to knowingly and cleverly tantalize the cuckold in me. She knew I loved it.
"It's the biggest one I've ever had for
damn
sure, almost a coupla inches longer 'n yours, an' a lot bigger around, too, like I could
really
feel the difference. Just
totally
fills up my little ol' pussy; feels absolutely
wonderful
inside me, you
know?
"
After a slow beat, she declared, "I'm
definitely
gonna fuck that young
goujon
(stud) again,"
She opened her eyes fully, gazing directly into mine, meaningfully, as she said softly,
"Darlin' I don't want to make you feel insecure comparin' your cocks but his really
is
noticeably bigger and I definitely