Leah's Hotwife Adventure

Describe Leah? Okay...she's got a pretty, cute face, surrounded by lustrous, rich chestnut-brown hair. She's got a body that would make any monk regret his lifestyle choice. She's intelligent, vivacious, funny, tactile, loving and very devoted. So it's probably just easiest to say she's hot as hell...and yet she doesn't know it.

She thinks she's average, she thinks she's put on weight and gone a bit fat, she thinks she's lost her figure as she's got older. Personally, I've always liked curves that have just a slight bit of padding to them -- not fat, not chubby even, but just glorious softness that you can snuggle into when you need to be cosy, and that you can push hard against when you need to be satisfied. And I know I'm not alone in loving that.

Leah has always had a beautiful pair of breasts -- rounded but hanging, with that classic teardrop shape, and with large nipples that stand proud. They might not be quite as high, or quite as firm, as they used to be -- but like the rest of her body, they tell a story about the life she's had, rather than the blank canvas of a 20 year old. Don't get me wrong, I'm certainly not knocking a 20 year old's body, but I do like a bit of experience to be shown in the body as well as the mind. And as for that mind, well, when you've spent 15 years together and watched each other change and grow, you know the person pretty closely by that point.

It's still a mystery to me though that she doesn't understand how hot she is. She definitely has lower self-confidence as a result of it, focusing on her "flaws" as she sees them, rather than her qualities. I would love her to understand her attractiveness and her effect on other people.

Rhys? He's my gorgeous man. He has an athletic, toned body, very good for his age; he could traipse over mountain ranges for days without breaking sweat. He's not a big muscly man, but I don't go for that look anyway, I prefer slim, toned men. He's everything to me, he's my soulmate and I love the way he looks.

And me? Well, my face hasn't changed much, but I know my body used to be better. When I was in my early twenties, I had curves you could cut yourself on, and a set of boobs to guarantee free entry to any club. I'm 38 and my body is catching up with me. Rhys never mentions how I'm looking older, and I appreciate his attempts to cheer me up and pretend it's not so bad, but I know he's just being kind. Personally I struggle with the loss. My boobs are lower now, slightly less full and with little marks tracking their downward trajectory over the past 25 years.

Rhys says I'm getting better with age; I don't think that, I'm saddened and losing my confidence over my lost youth -- and in fact the only one of us who's benefiting from older age is Rhys. I think men tend to age better, and they have a gravitas and more of an appealing, sexy, knowing look as they reach their late 30s and 40s.

Leah has always had a thing for slightly older guys, or perhaps it's true to say she's not been as turned on by the young guys. Leah has always been much more selective than me about who she finds attractive, though luckily that selectiveness doesn't exclude me. She's fancied me since forever, or so she tells me, and she certainly lets me know verbally and physically how much she still finds me attractive. So, perhaps thanks to her constant affirmation, I don't have any self-esteem issues about my body and don't really mind too much getting older.

I never really liked most of the younger guys, even when I was young myself -- they either had the arrogance and pushiness of youth, or the shyness and lack of confidence that comes from not yet knowing your place in the world. The older I get, the more attracted I am to older guys...and that salt-and-pepper look in the hair or beard doesn't hurt either.

Rhys is ageing well, though he still looks quite boyish with no grey hair. Luckily that's a look I like in him, so he's safe, but I do quite like a face and body where you can read the history. Why don't I like that in myself? I don't know, quite honestly, but I'm sure men just prefer the young models. There's a reason the businessman divorcing his older wife to go for the younger secretary is a cliche.

It doesn't matter how much I tell her I find her so attractive, and sexy as hell, and that I love how she looks now, or even that I prefer it compared to earlier in our lives -- Leah always disregards it, and assumes I'm just flattering her. That can hurt a little bit, to have your opinion and judgement thrown back in your face, and to not have your actual judgement validated. There's nothing sexier to me than a confident woman who knows the power she has.

Occasionally when we go out, I catch some guys looking at her. I'll tell her, "Honey, see that guy by the bar? He was definitely checking you out as you went past with the drinks. He's pretty good looking, isn't he? He's definitely into you."

But she always just brushes it off.

"

He's probably looking at my big arse"..."He's looking at the girl the other side of me"..."He's thinking to himself that woman needs to lose a few pounds". She won't appreciate that other guys find her attractive, in the same way she struggles to understand that with me. I want to be able to demonstrate to her how attractive I find her, and how beautiful she is to all kinds of people. I tell her this all the time, of course, but it never seems to sink in -- it doesn't overcome the doubts she has in herself.

Rhys often tells me, when we're out for some drinks, that someone's checking me out. He doesn't seem to mind other people looking. I kind of understand this, I think I would feel some pride if I saw another woman looking at him -- but mostly I would feel concerned that he'll fancy her more than me and that, long story short, I'm single, seventy-five, and surrounded by cats. Yes, slightly over the top reaction, but we have different attitudes to this matter.

I don't get at all upset by other guys looking, I never have. Instead I just feel pride in her because she's mine. Yes, she's her own person, but she's mine in the same way I'm hers, and we'll always be each other's.

I don't really have a jealous streak at all -- when I'm genuinely secure in how I feel, and in how the other person feels about me, then you can do what you like. So long as I know I'm number one, jealousy is never going to be an issue with me. That's odd for a lot of people to understand, and some ex-girlfriends in the past thought it was because I didn't care. That's not the case. I think I'm just wired differently to lots of other people.

* * * * * * * *

One weekend, as we're out for drinks, talk turns to sex, as it often does with us. We talk of things we've done (which are plenty) and what things we particularly enjoy (which are many).

Communication has been key to our decade and a half together. Leah and I have always had a phenomenal connection. But we work extremely hard at it, communicating so both of us feel valued and respected. This has helped us to bypass the problems so many of our friends have had with their partners. It's not that we don't have problems, we're just good at addressing them.

At the age of 38, we've tried so much sexually, in a spirit of intrepid exploration, and I'm always grateful for how open-minded she is. I don't think she would try these things unless I suggested them to her, because I've got a particularly devious and deviant mind, and like to research things we can try out. I have a mental list of sexual ideas, equipment, techniques, fantasies and positions that I like to build up and tick off. Yes, before you say anything, it's a very male approach to sex, but I promise it's less clinical than it sounds -- we're just experimenting, like you would in the kitchen with new recipes. Ones you like, you might have again and again over the next few years; ones you don't like, you don't have to have again, but it's always good to at least try the new things.

So my list has become known as "The List" over our time together, and is quite the talking point. Leah always knows there are new things on it, a fact she pretends to tolerate but secretly quite likes, I think.

"

So what's next on The List?" asks Leah, with a little smile.

I've been waiting for this moment for quite some time, and I'm nervous about how she's going to react. We have great communication, as I've mentioned, but what I'm about to say might upset her deeply if I phrase it wrongly. No matter how many times I bring up something that's made The List, it doesn't get easier, worrying about an adverse reaction, and this is the hardest one I've ever discussed with her.

"

Well, there is one thing that's been interesting me for a while," I say, slowly.

"

I'm shocked," she giggles, rolling her eyes and pretending to sound world-weary at yet another thing for us to try. "What is it this time? Electro-sex on the reconstructed deck of the Titanic?"

"Come on Leah, you know I'm into ancient shipwreck fantasies, not modern ones."

"My mistake. But do tell. Should I be nervous? Do I need to stretch and limber up for this one?"

"

I don't think you need any physical preparation for this one. Mental instead," I tease her, cryptically, while I play for time slightly. This is harder than I thought, bringing this one up. Best to just say it straight out.

"

Leah...you know I love you like nothing else, don't you?"

"

Um, yes," she says, slowly, "but this doesn't sound positive."

"

Eh? How can that not be a positive thing?! It's very positive, I promise. I just don't want you to misunderstand me. I love you more than anything, and what I'm about to say might make you doubt that for a bit. It definitely shouldn't...but it might. Just, well, just bear that in mind."

"

Okay...I will," she says, but with doubt audibly creeping into her voice, it's time for me to say it.

"My fantasy, and at this stage it's just a fantasy, I promise...is for you to be a hotwife."

"And what is a hotwife exactly?"

"I want you to fuck another guy, and I want to watch."

Silence.

I should point out we don't normally use "fuck" as a term for sex. There's a reason for using it now, which I will explain to her shortly, but its very crudeness hangs in the air after I've said it.

I carry on, while I wait for her to adjust to what I've said.

"

I want to watch you. I want to be able to detach myself from the situation, so I can see you, so I can see your sexual side, without my...well, without me getting in the way of me, if you can understand that. I want to watch you experiencing and exploring true pleasure."

Still a shocked silence.

"

Ohhhhhh kayyyyy...tell me what you're thinking," I say, in a slightly pleading voice, assuming the worst.

A few more moments, while she thinks.

"Don't leave a guy hanging," I beg.

"

Do you promise you love me?" she asks, after a few moments of thought.

"

Of course I do, honey. More than anything. Like I said just now. I promise you're my soulmate, in the bedroom as well as in the rest of our lives."

"

You're not bored with me, you know, sexually? That's not why you want someone else to...have sex with me?"

"

No! No, no. I promise," I reassure her, "it's the opposite of that, I'm thinking about it because of how sexual I find you, and how I want to experience that on a totally different level."

"

Uh huh," and then there's a further little pause while she thinks. "And what if I don't want to do this?"

"

Seriously, if you don't want to, that's totally fine. I just didn't want to not bring it up -- you know how we've always been good at being open with our hopes and fears. This is a kind of discrete, stand-alone fantasy -- you know, one that would be fun to do, but if we don't do it, it doesn't affect anything else."

I'm worried I've said something I shouldn't, and try to reassure her. "Look, we don't have to carry on with this, I can put this one down as a very definite No, and then we can look at other things," I start to say, but Leah interrupts me. She leans forward, with her elbows on the table, looking me intently in the eyes.

"

I'm happy to consider it," she states, very definitely.

"

Are you serious?" I stutter, hardly believing what I'm hearing.

"

If it means that much to you, then of course I want to at least consider it. I don't know if I'll do it, but there's nothing wrong with considering it."

"

I don't know what to say! Thank you, I suppose...thank you so much for considering this." I'm stunned, because when I heard myself say the idea out loud, I realised how weird it must sound to Leah, who's presumably not been thinking about this in her daydreams.

This is definitely a shock. I had no idea that he wanted me to have sex with another guy. Or to fuck him, to use Rhys's word. Does he not love me? Does he not value me? Does he not want to keep me to himself? Does he not care enough about me? What if I end up liking the guy so much I went off with him in preference to Rhys? I mean, that one's never going to happen, Rhys is my one and only, but how can he be so sure? I wish I had his confidence and belief, but maybe I'm just better at seeing the potential problems.

But...and but...even though these thoughts were hammering through my brain, my body was having an undeniably different reaction. You can't always control what turns you on, and my body wasn't lying to me. I started to feel that undeniable tingle below, and to very briefly fantasise about another guy undressing me, taking the lead, making me feel special...and yes, fucking me.

And whatever I feel about this, and right now I'm not remotely sure about it, I'm willing to consider it -- I like making him feel good, and I think a partner should do whatever they can, within reason, to do that. I know he would with me. Considering it is no big deal. Doing it, on the other hand, most definitely is, and that's some way off yet.

"Let's sleep on it," I say, "because this is a big thing, and I feel confused and conflicted right now. But yes, I think maybe this could be fun for both of us."

* * * * * * * *

The following morning, we have a long discussion, covering all our fears, anxieties and hopes.

I don't know if this is going to lead to anything. I don't know if I want it to. Maybe a bit of interest, from people who don't look terrible themselves, will give me a little ego boost. But will I actually want to fuck one of them, with or without Rhys being there? I don't think so. I haven't "fucked" anyone in my life -- I've had sex with a few partners, but not semi-anonymous sex for pleasure only. I don't think Rhys knows what he's letting himself in for.

"What's your biggest fear?" I ask him.

"I have -- or at least had -- two fears," Rhys says, holding up two fingers, just in case I can't count that high on my own.

"Two? Is that it?" I ask him, amazed at how carefree he appears to be.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, they're big ones," he says, earnestly.

"So hit me with them," I encourage him.

"Okay, first off, I'm so worried by the thought of pushing you into a situation you don't want to be in. Sometimes in everyday life we all need a little encouragement, and then we really enjoy something we didn't think we would. I think we're both like that. But while it's okay if it's just encouragement, what I couldn't stand is the idea of taking you completely outside your comfort zone, making you do stuff you really don't want to do, just to please me.

"So PLEASE, promise me you'll be honest and open with me, talk to me constantly, and then we'll be fine, whatever happens. We literally can't over-communicate on this!" he says, forcefully.

"Hey, Rhys, don't worry about that. Come on, I'm an independent woman, I'm not scared to say no. And I can talk forever if you want me to, I can promise you that!"

Rhys looks visibly relieved. "So what's your second fear?" I ask him.

"I think it's already gone," he says, thoughtfully. "It was a really big fear, but it's gone now. It was that you would think I was disgusting, wrong, abnormal, unworthy of you. That what I suggested would change how you view me in future. I was very nervous bringing this up, because I was worried about your reaction.

"So the fact that you thought carefully about my idea, that you didn't dismiss me out of hand, means I don't have that worry so much now. If this fantasy doesn't happen from here, that's fine -- I'm just so grateful that you've taken me seriously, you've respected me enough to discuss it and give it a go, at least the early stages. That's why I love you, and that's why we work as a couple -- we respect each other, and know that if something's important to the other person, then it's worthy of consideration."

"Well, you certainly know how to butter me up, giving it all that 'respect' and 'love' shit," I laugh. "Honey, of course I think you're a weird pervert, but that's why I love you...and you always challenge me, and that's good for me. I don't think you've ever suggested anything that I haven't wanted to at least try. I would never dismiss what you have to say to me, I promise."

I can tell him this all I want, but I think he'll always feel nervous about bringing up "weird" ideas, no matter how much I reassure him. Maybe that's the same as me not accepting that Rhys thinks I'm hot?

I feel that comfort and safety in her, as I so often do. "Thank you," I say, "so that's my fears done and dusted, pretty much. What about yours?"

My god, where do I start..."Oh boy, my worries, in no particular order," and as I start to list them, they come rushing out of me, as Rhys listens patiently, understands me, reassures me.

"I know you love me, I truly do, but...from the outside," I say, "and I appreciate we're not on the outside, but humour me -- this seems like the act of someone who doesn't love his wife. And don't you want to have sex with me any more? Is it only the thought of watching me with other guys?"

"I love you more than anything," he tells me. "This is the opposite of what it appears. It's a symbol of the love, proof of its existence, not proof of the lack of it."

It's hard to explain to Leah (or anyone), but I try my best, and borrow the metaphor of one of her favourite authors, Philip Pullman. He writes about his characters and their daemons, their souls in an animal manifestation. When they move apart from each other, they experience a painful longing, and when they come back together the bond is stronger and closer than ever, and filled with life-affirming joy and relief. That's how I think I would feel doing this. For me, it's like a kind of long-form tease and denial, getting to watch her being fulfilled but having to wait my turn, feeling that strange semi-jealousy and arousing those strong emotions, and getting that life-affirming reclamation. But of course it's more than just that aspect, because watching her fuck and be sexual is a huge turn-on.

But I know that socially anything other than monogamy is frowned upon, and it's difficult to challenge that attitude in our own heads, because it's been hammered into us all our lives.

Oh, and I want to have sex with her all the time, there's no way I'm handing her over to another man and not having sex with her. I want to see her develop sexually, become truly fulfilled as a sexual being, understanding her own power. I want to see her admired and appreciated, and I want her to see and understand that admiration and appreciation -- Leah is so much a part of me, and I take so much pride in her, it hurts me when she doesn't appear to appreciate herself. I want her to KNOW how beautiful and desirable she is, not just be told it by me. How fuckable she is, how many guys would love to have a chance to fuck her.