Hot Wife A True Novel

And the strange story that followed . . .

My husband became mostly impotent three years ago after he began taking a medication. I'm now 29. I was just 19 when we married and he was 36.

Even before we married, he often related a fantasy of me having sex with another man, a desire I then didn't understand. But by then, 8 years later and taking into account our marital circumstances, I began to consider the possibility. I'd often dream about being naked with faceless men, each with a generous-sized penis.

I began taking night classes at a local college and met a young classmate 9 years younger and who sat just behind me. I was then 27. I'm particularly tall and Jeff was a couple inches shorter than me He's slender and long-limbed, with brown eyes and light brown hair.

He walked me to the parking lot after the first night's class and talked about whatever came to mind. He asked if I'd be interested in going for coffee at a pub a couple of blocks away and I agreed. I lost track of time until noticing more than two hours had passed.

We kept up this routine at the pub over the following two weeks. By the third week, I was altogether aware that Jeff was attracted to me by his persistent touching of my hand. As we were about to leave, he stood. I glanced to his groin. I stared wide-eyed at his hefty erection until he became aware of my interest. I smiled approvingly but neither of us commented on what had just occurred.

That night upon arriving at home, I asked my husband that night if he was truly serious about me wanting me to have sex with another man.

He said, "Oh, yeah! Did anything happen tonight?" I told him all about Jeff. He enthusiastically approved of encouraging this guy to do me. He added that I "deserved" some dick since he wasn't able to perform.

I nodded agreeably and said I'd "think about it." But I'd realized immediately after saying that, I had already made up my mind. I wanted this guy to fuck my brains out. I'm not sure why I didn't admit it.

After the following week's class, Jeff suggested that I leave my car in the school's parking lot and ride with him in his van. I rode alongside as he drove into the pub's dark parking area. Instead of opening the door to get out, he turned to me. I returned his gaze. He reached for my hand. I stroked his arm and he leaned to kiss me.

I stroked his throbbing hard-on. He led me by a hand to the back of his van and closed the drapes of its windows. He urged my back to the carpeted floor. I unzipped his fly, pulling out his cock. It bounced against my face and I gasped at his 7 and a half-inch length, nearly twice the size of my husband's. The only longer prick I'd ever seen was that of my younger brother when I lived at home. Soon our clothes piled between the bucket seats and our naked bodies intertwined. Our groins humped against the other's. I pleaded, "Oh yeah, do me. Do me now. I'm so hot! I need your hot cock inside me."

He kneeled between my quivering thighs. I wrapped my bare legs around his waist and looked down at the narrow space between our bodies as his walnut-shaped dickhead entered my eager cavity. Only four boys or men had ever been inside me and those were now in the distant past.

I moaned as my body shuddered. He slammed deep into my wet cunt and a billion stars lit up the van. My heels thumped against his ramming buttocks.

He turned me to my knees. My head swiveled around as he entered my vagina from the rear. My hair swirled wildly in the warm air.

He groaned and his body stiffened. His hot lava rocketed through his cock and spurted inside my vaginal walls. I squealed in multiple orgasms.

Somewhere during the first few times he was thrilling me with his sizzling dick, he began calling me "Mom." I immediately recognized his apparent incestuous fantasy and told him "Oh, yeah, I wanna feel my little boy's big cock in Momma's pussy." His excitation soared to new heights. We writhed in ecstasy.

Our couplings increased to two or three nights each week. I often staggered home as late as 3 a.m. Neither of us could get enough. I told my husband each night of our escapades in detail and those were the only times he was able to get an erection.

Because I was often sore from Jeff's dick, I'd suck my husband's cock and deny him entry into my pussy. He never complained. Once my husband made a surprising confession, "I'd even suck his dick if you wanted me to." He never repeated that though, insisting he wasn't bi.

Near semester's end, Jeff received acceptance from an out-of-state school. He had previously suspected a rejection slip from that university, so this was of great importance to him.

The night of our last class, his car wouldn't start and I drove him home. He invited me in to meet his mother, a successful corporate manager who had divorced her husband five years before. He had a two-year-older sister who was away at a chef's school.

I was surprised to hear him introduce me as "the friend" he had talked about so much. I hadn't thought he would mention me at all since I was married.

His mother gave me a knowing grin, implying she suspected our relationship was also physical and not just friends.

Just a couple of days after Jeff left for his new school, his mother phoned me and told me she had come across a sweater I'd left at their home. I had forgotten it but remembered that, stupidly, I had left it lying on the floor of his room a month before.

She invited me over to their home for a drink. We agreed the following evening would be good for each of us.

When I arrived, his mother greeted me with a handshake but held my hand longer than necessary. I didn't pull away. She was dressed in thin white slacks and a translucent white blouse, both of which clearly conveyed that she wore nothing beneath.

She invited me to sit by patting the back of the couch alongside her. After a few minutes of chit-chat, she said, "I'm not sure how to put this without making you feel uncomfortable. Believe me, whatever happened is okay with me. I'm just asking for personal reasons."

I told her, "It's okay. I think I know what you're going to ask."

Upon her questioning, I admitted that Jeff had been fucking me for some time.

She responded, "I thought so. I wanted to thank you."

I had now relaxed and asked her to explain. She said, "Jeff offhandedly mentioned to me that he often called you 'Mom.' I guessed correctly how that came about and thought you might want to know his motivation."

Her story spilled out. His mother had come to realize that her son had a strong desire for an incestuous relationship with her. And because of one recent incident, she assumed he wanted sex with his older sister as well.

She explained, "Jeff has his own bath down the upstairs hall from his room."

I already knew that because we had fucked in his room twice when no one else was home. I didn't tell her that.

His mom went on, "But Jeff often came down to the master bath next to my bedroom. He would walk in when I was naked on his way to my shower. I'm sure he waited outside in the hall until he was sure I was nude and then walked in at that time.

"After his shower, he would walk back to my room with nothing on except occasionally a towel around his neck. Typically, he sported a hard-on. Made no effort to hide it. He seemed proud of it.

I asked how she reacted and she told me she pretended to ignore his nakedness and stiff cock.

Because she was also nude, she was tense the first couple of times this happened. But eventually she became accustomed to it and just had conversations with her son. The tension was still there but it was easier to control. His stiff prick never seemed to soften.

She said, "You understand what I'm saying?"

"Sure," I said. "He wanted to fuck you."

She said, "Thanks. I like people who are direct. He did the same with his sister and she told me that she occasionally was tempted to jerk him off. I understood. So did I. But I was concerned about the potential long-term effect on all of us if either his sister or I allowed our natural desire to play with Jeff's big dick. It would be even worse if we lost our heads and fucked him. I explained that to her and she understood. We decided to do nothing for awhile at least."

"And then, you came along.

So now I understood what she was getting to. I was her son's surrogate mom. She went on to say that he hadn't been walking in on her or walking in on her or his sister with his hard dick since he and I had begun fucking.

Then, on at least one occasion, not long before her son and I had begun dating, he entered his sister's room while she was sleeping. He picked up her limp hand and wrapped her fingers around his rigid cock.

His sis awoke but didn't want to embarrass him by making a scene. She pretended to remain asleep. She told her mom that she might have betrayed this charade because her hand firmly gripped his warm cock.

He pumped his hips into her hot hand until he spurted onto her sheets. He removed her fingers and slipped quietly out of the room. She admitted her grip was unyielding at first but she ultimately released it to his prying fingers and believed he mostly likely recognized she wasn't asleep after all.

Their mother laughed as she finished this story and added, "So I guess she was disappointed in letting it go, but she didn't admit that to me."

Later that night, as I was standing in the doorway and preparing to leave, she leaned forward and kissed me full on the lips. I held her face and returned a lingering kiss.

Our groins rubbed against the other a moment and we disengaged, exchanging knowing smiles. She isn't gay or bi, but the excitement of telling her story and my admitting that I was fucking her son had excited us both. Nothing else developed from that brief interlude.

After that night, his mother and I became fast friends. We were open in conversation, over the phone or face-to-face. She phones each time her son is expected home from school and arranges our get-togethers. A few times when his sister is away, these dates have been overnight at their home with Mom's approval.

His sister has since become fully aware of the relationship and endorses it.

Because he's away so much, they know that I date another guy for sex whenever either of us feels the need. Everyone understands that Jeff and I are just fuckbuddies. But ours is a semi-incestuous relationship as well. Well, okay, it's really a pretend-incest relationship, not a real one.

Although I was never involved in any sort of sex with relatives, this ongoing "pretend" liaison between Jeff and me has caused in me a perverted interest in incestuous novels and movie. I buy both over the internet.

I guess the closest I ever came to committing incest was when I lived at home. I occasionally came upon my younger brother naked and on a few of those occasions he had an erection.

He once was masturbating when I walked into his room to talk about a school problem with which he'd earlier asked for help. He apologized and put his dick away. I just shrugged and said, "Forget it, I won't tell." The only interesting part of that to me was how big it was when super-hard. I had stared wide-eyed at his pale veined length until it disappeared into the jeans' fly and gulped.

But I had no thoughts of incest with him and I'm sure he didn't either.

I wasn't the only one affected by Jeff's fantasy. Although we don't do this in front of Jeff's sister, he, his mother and I have watched perhaps a dozen adult-incest videos at their home when he's home from school and rented them from a local store. His mom and I once commented on his erection but understood and admitted those films aroused us. We had seen his other hard-ons in response to the videos but usually said nothing about it. On at least a couple of times, we just grinned or winked at the other whenever he wasn't watching.

All of us admit these carefully selected videos are hot. But his mother and I realized her son had crossed an important threshold when he said, "It's stimulating to imagine but it's impractical in the long run."

I never discuss my little perversion with anyone else except my husband. And, with all this interest in family sex, I'm just glad my brother doesn't live in the same state as we do. I'm kidding. I'd never fuck my little brother.

My husband in one of his weirder moments once asked whether I'd consider just jerking my bro off. I told him to "get a life" and he never brought it up again.

The foregoing is true except for two minor details. "Jeff's" name is more ordinary one, and his sister's school interest is another profession, not that of a chef.

REAL FRIENDS, REAL BENEFITS - MY FUCKBUDDIES.

I'm now 29 and often, when asked, can't remember how many homes we have lived in over our 10 years of marriage. And we're to be transferred again in three weeks, something that my husband's business requires every six months to two years.

My husband has been a dedicated cuckold for a little more than two years. It took me awhile to understand him but he'd wanted this even before we married.

At his urging, I agreed to accompany him on visits to a video-viewing booth area of a local adult book and video store for two years. Over that time, many guys either joined us in our booth or poked their dicks through drilled holes between booths. I (usually) didn't fuck them but enjoyed jerking'em off.

Unfortunately for both of us, my husband was required to regularly take a medication causing him to become mostly impotent. So, although he hadn't mentioned his fantasy of another guy fucking me in more than a year, I had therefore found reason to renew the issue. It finally began to make sense to me.

I began dating an 18-year-old I met in a night class. After just one semester, he went away to another school so I began dating yet another fuckbuddy.

And during that time I met three women friends who enjoyed going out to places like rave clubs and male strip-bars. I didn't care for raves but enjoyed watching my friends jerk off male dancers. Heck, I did it myself.

I occasionally returned home as late as 3 a.m. Sometimes my husband achieved an erection upon my retelling of these stories.

He won't openly admit that he enjoys my experiences but it's clear he does and loves being my cuckyboy. Truth be told, much of what I do is also for his pleasure.

So the third weekend before we were to be transferred yet again, two of those friends arranged a special "going-away night out" for me.

Janet at age 32 is the oldest of our little group and the only one who smokes. At 5'6" she was about 15 pounds overweight when we first met. She then began losing weight until she was now likely a few pounds underweight. Somehow this thinness, along with her no-nonsense demeanor and uncommonly self-confident deportment, her dark hair and blue eyes added a mysterious façade that attracted substantive attention from men everywhere we went.

Janet had something of a wild childhood. She told us that, following an even wilder middle school past, she fell into a particularly mischievous crowd in high school. By then, she was smoking dope and attending illegal street races. Often she served at the racers' flag-girl. She graduated with decent grades. I can't understand how.

But earlier in middle school, she was instrumental in forming a sex club that grew to 14 kids. They gathered at different homes every couple of weeks. After almost a year of this behavior, a neighboring couple complained of stereo noise at one of their member's home. The cops arrived to discover a dozen naked and partially naked kids engaged in sex acts.

The school board transferred each kid to different schools and forbade any to socialize with another for the next two years. Their official edict wasn't entirely successful but it broke up their frequent parties. And, of course, things remained a bit tense between the parents and their kids for a year or more.

Janet never ratted on her two-year older brother who was the club's only older member. He hadn't attended that evening. Although each saw the other having sex with others, she didn't ever enjoy intercourse with her brother.

Marta, the most outgoing of our bunch, had another commitment that prevented her from attending that night. So that left just Evelyn and Janet to plan this special evening in my honor.

Evelyn, at age 24, unlike the divorced Janet, is married. She and her husband are swingers and nudists. Evelyn had invited Janet, my husband and me to join them at swap parties. But my husband explained he couldn't get it up sufficiently for a party like that and begged off. Janet was satisfied with a string of boyfriends and also declined.

Evelyn is a svelte redhead with freckles and often is mistaken for a very young girl. Part of this age-identity confusion lies with her tendency to wear low-rider jeans and tight pullovers you'd expect on a adolescent student, far different from Janet and me who dress conservatively. I do that because I want to appear at least my age but sometimes it doesn't work.

Janet's two-year-older brother long had been eternally thankful he hadn't attended that night those middle school fuckers was busted. Although Janet and I never went to the nudist camp with Evelyn and her husband, Janet told her brother about their offer and he frequently attended at the couple's guest.

Most naturist parks bar single men but allow single women as members. The clubs prefer families to singles. Janet and I assumed her brother was probably one of their swinging partners as well but neither of us had asked.

A few months ago at the male strip club, Evelyn -- as each of us often had done - was stroking a dancer's long, lathered-up dick. Janet noticed a man nervously talking with the bartender and pointing toward us.

When Evelyn went to the bar a few minutes later for another drink, the bartender told her that the man had been concerned while observing her jerking off the dancer and he had assumed she was underage. The barkeep explained to him that he'd heard that complaint before and he personally knew Evelyn as an adult regular.

And minutes later that 42-year-old guy walked over to our table and asked Janet for a date. We guessed he was fascinated with this apparent "kid."

Evelyn told him she and her husband were swingers and asked whether he was interested in threesomes. He enthusiastically agreed. Evelyn took his name and phone number. He has since swung with them several times.

Jan's initial meeting with the man caused several pseudo-psychological analyses between the four of us. We guessed that his attraction to the young-looking Evelyn implied a pedophile personality.

Yet that night in the bar, he had been the only customer to protest when he thought she was too young to be there. We concluded that he probably denied his sexual preference and had displayed at that time an excessive fear of a 14-year-old holding an adult's dick.

BACK TO THE PRESENT:

So now, Evelyn and Janet showed up at our door to pick me up for this unexplained "special" night out. My husband was intrigued and asked if he could go.

Janet said, "Absolutely not, Cuckyboy. We'll give her something to tell you later." She said this while drawing a line down his cock beneath his slacks.

Janet blindfolded me and drove us to Evelyn's home. I asked if I looked like the Green Hornet, an old masked comic book character she displays on a poster above her bed back at her apartment. Janet replied, "More like the Green Horny."

We arrived five minutes later and they hadn't allowed me to remove the blindfold.

From their whispering, I recognized that it was Evelyn's husband and the guy she had met at the strip club who greeted us at the door. I suspected now what they had planned. Evelyn's husband had made no secret that he wanted to fuck Janet and me. I didn't then realize that a third man was in the room.