I know this one will get some awesome comments but please.. you read the title so if you don't like it, don't read it.
Anyway...
So, this one starts with a DM. A DM from "The Married Guy." Now it was a pretty standard one, honestly. Nothing crazy, nothing overly cocky--just a simple, confident, message. One that got my attention though.
Now, usually, I get a lot of messages. Some are straight-up cringe, some are lazy as hell, and some are just so over-the-top that I can't even take them seriously. But this guy? He had my attention right away. Something about the way he messaged me--polite but direct, flirty but not desperate--made me pause.
So, I did what I always do. I stalked his profile.
And, holy shit, was I glad I did.
Tall. Tattooed. Built like someone who actually enjoys the gym. The kind of man who looks like he could pin you down without even trying. And married. That last part made me even hotter.
Because all I could think about was how lucky his wife was.
Did she know how fucking good she had it? Did she take him for granted, or did she let him use her the way a man like that should be able to use a woman?
I had to know.
I agreed to meet him for coffee. Nothing serious, just a quick little meet-up to see if we actually had chemistry in person. What made it even hotter was that hubby was in the same shopping center doing the groceries while I sat across from this gorgeous man, sipping my latte and feeling a heat build between my thighs.
And let me tell you--we vibed.
Like, that instant, I-want-to-tear-your-clothes-off kind of chemistry. We flirted, we laughed, and by the time we finished our drinks, I knew I was going to fuck him. It was just a matter of when.
It took a little scheduling, but finally, everything lined up. I booked a hotel. I told hubby he was coming to watch--and, of course, he'd be locked up. Again.
And that's when it really hit me.
I love this life. I love being a hotwife.
I love knowing that I can meet a man like this, connect with him, crave him, take him--all with my husband watching, aching, wanting but never having.
And the best part? Hubby loves it too.
I'm so lucky to have a man who understands me, who gives me this freedom, who wants to see me fulfilled in ways he never could.
And now, I was about to show him exactly why this was worth it.
Walking into the hotel with both hubby and "Married Guy" felt surreal.
There we were--me, my locked-up husband, and this gorgeous, tattooed man I had been dying to get my hands on. And instead of ripping each other's clothes off immediately, we stood there making small talk.
It was polite. Too polite.
Hubby asked about his work, "Married Guy" asked how long we'd been in the lifestyle, and I? Well, I nodded along, pretending to be engaged in the conversation when in reality, I was struggling to focus on anything but the fact that I was about to fuck this man senseless.
I wanted to touch him.
I wanted to feel the body I had been eyeing since our coffee date. I wanted to see if the bulge I had fantasized about was really as big as I imagined. And most of all? I wanted him to put me in my place--to grab me, kiss me, and remind me why I was here.
I barely lasted five minutes.
Finally, I just couldn't take it anymore.
There was no invitation. We just started kissing.
His hands were on me instantly--firm, greedy, like he had been holding back just as much as I had. He tilted my head up, claiming my mouth with a deep, hungry kiss that sent shivers straight to my core.
Fuck. Yes.
And in that moment, I thought about his wife again.
Does she get kissed like this all the time? Does she get fucked the way I'm about to be? Because if she does, I swear to God, she is one lucky woman.
Hubby sat on the edge of the bed, completely forgotten, as "Married Guy" sat down on the bed. My hands were all over him, desperate to feel every inch of the man I had been waiting to have. And when I finally got his pants undone and saw just how thick he was?
I shot a look at my husband--who was already leaking inside his cage--and smirked.
"It's so much thicker and longer than yours!"
Then I pushed him down and got onto my knees on the bed.
I could feel hubby's eyes burning into me as I curled my fingers around the base of "Married Guy's" cock.
Thick. Heavy. Pulsing in my hand.
Even in my grip, he felt huge--warm, solid, commanding my attention. The sheer size of him sent a thrill through me. This wasn't just a tease anymore--this was real. I was about to take him.
I let my fingers slide along this shaft, slowly, teasing myself just as much as I was teasing him. I wanted to savor this. I wanted to feel every inch, every twitch of anticipation, every shift of his hips as he held back, waiting to see what I would do.
And when I finally licked the swollen tip, I heard the sharp inhale above me.
Fuck, I loved that. That first taste, that first reaction.
I swirled my tongue around the head, slow, deliberate, dragging it over the sensitive ridge before flicking against the tip. I could taste him. Precum coated my tongue, salty and warm, making me moan softly as I swallowed it down.
Then I looked up at hubby.
He was a wreck already.
His hands were gripping his thighs, his caged cock twitching and leaking, his breathing short, desperate, completely out of control. His face was flushed and I knew what he was thinking.
I smirked, keeping my eyes locked on his as I parted my lips wider, tilting my head forward, and took "Married Guy" into my mouth.
The first few inches slid in effortlessly, the smooth heat of him pressing against my tongue. But then, as I moved lower, my jaw stretched wider and wider.
My lips strained around him, my throat tightening as I tried to take him deeper.
And I did.
"Fuck," he exhaled, his fingers tightening just slightly, guiding me lower.
I loved that. That little show of control.
I let him push, forcing me deeper, stretching my throat more, making me take all of him. My nose was pressed against his skin, my throat completely stuffed.
And fuck, I loved that even more.
I stayed there, holding him deep, feeling my throat tighten around him, my body fighting to adjust. Then, slowly, I pulled back, gasping for air as I let him slide out with a long, messy string of spit connecting my lips to his cock.
I wiped my chin, panting slightly, my lips swollen and wet.
Then, I did it again.
I sucked hard, hollowing my cheeks, dragging my tongue along his length as I worked him like I had something to prove.
And maybe I did.
Because this? This was the perfect cock.
I moaned around him, letting the vibration send shivers through his body. His grip in my hair tightened, guiding me, controlling the rhythm, setting the pace. His hips started to move, thrusting slowly, fucking my throat, pushing past my limits, owning my mouth completely.