I love my wife. We have been happily married for a long time. But sometimes, the confining limitations of marital sex can bottle a man up. Sometimes it is not frequent enough. Frequently it is not hot enough. But it is the whole enchilada for those of us who chose to be faithful.
But for every decision to remain faithful, there are dozens of secret fantasies that infiltrate my mind, and that is speaking conservatively. The fact is, as noble and respectable as I am in real life, the secret cravings in my mind can run wild. She has no idea. Anyone else who knows me would be shocked by my thoughts.
I am a good hubby... I am also a horny hubby. Fucking my sweet wife is a once or twice a week pleasure at best. I masturbate daily, sometimes more than once. I fantasize hourly. I have sexual thoughts even more frequently. But I never stray. There are many men who can relate.
This story is the first of many I plan to use to expose my secret thoughts, forbidden lusts, pervy fantasies, and naughty cravings.
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I punched in the code to our home security keypad and then walked wifey to our car. I opened her door and admired her shapely body slide across the seat. She is a sweet redhead, about 5-5, 140ish with 36c breasts centered with large, light, pink nipples.
On this particular afternoon, she was wearing a shapely pair of jeans and a two-tiered ensemble for a top; a V-neck tee that dipped low was laid over a thin tank top. I would love to see her in just the tank top, but she is modest. But still as I gazed down on her as she lowered herself into the car, my eyes slithered between her breasts, licking at the flesh I could see.
I always enjoyed eyeing her body. It was the one body in the whole world that I had rights to check-out without apology. I seldom missed an opportunity to admire her body. This was certainly an opportunity.
By the time I shut her door and walked around to take my seat behind the wheel, my mind was percolating with lusty, busty thoughts. As my right hand turned the key in the ignition and my left hand curled around the steering wheel, my peripheral vision dared my hands to pause and reach over to fondle her full, married tits. Of course I didn't, but my mind groped her several times before the garage door lowered behind us as we pulled out of the driveway.
She was chatting about some trivial moment of drama from her day as I blended my attention to driving, actively listening with well-timed nods and an "oh really" here and there, and wondering how her tits would look if I tugged her top down so just her tank top and sheer bra were left to cover her.
Within moments, we approached a stop sign at a crosswalk adjacent to the neighborhood park just around the corner from our home. As I slowed to a stop, I smiled at her chatting away as her tits firmly pressed against her top thanks to the shoulder strap of the seatbelt that cut diagonally up the line of her cleavage. My sunglasses veiled my obsession of the moment, keeping her from feeling even the least bit self-conscious at my stare.
Then, I glanced both ways. As I listened to wifey, I waved at the couple standing at the curb, signaling them to go ahead and cross in front of me. They stepped out into the crosswalk and proceeded to walk in front of our car. My eyes drank in the view of the girl.
She was 18ish, blonde hair to the shoulders, and poured into a body that I surmised to have been the object of lust for thousands of masturbating boys and men. Although her face was cute, it was her body that invited my hubby-fantasies to engage.