The Halloween Party 31

When my wife and I started sharing dirty stories shortly after we began dating, the ones we liked best were the ones where she found herself in situations encouraging her to explore her sexuality, whether I was present or not.

As we were in a long-distance relationship for the first year (she worked in a different city from where I went to university), these fantasies were the primary drivers of our frequent, and always blisteringly hot phone sex. We became very good at it.

After being separated for two excruciatingly long months and craving her physical contact, I bought us tickets to see a famous musician she liked who was playing on Hallowe'en night in the city where I lived. I called her excitedly with the news, looking forward to the opportunity to be together, if only too briefly.

I was shocked when she told to me she couldn't come, as much as she'd like to.

"I've already been invited to a costume party that night. I have my costume ready," she sadly told me.

I was crushed.

It got much worse when she described her costume in detail to me. She was going as an ultra-sexy vampire with long straight black hair, crimson lipstick, sharp fangs, a floor-length low-cut black dress, and a rivulet of blood dripping from her mouth between her luscious 36C breasts.

As I sat alone weeks later at the concert that I had hoped she would happily have attended with me, I couldn't help but imagine how delectable she looked, and what she might be doing at the party at that very moment. I continued to sit uncomfortably in my seat, suffering from a painful erection.

The next time I spoke to her on the phone, she apologized for not coming to the concert and was truly sorry she missed it, but she told me that she had a fabulous time at the party.

"Too bad you weren't there to see my costume. It was very popular with many people. I think you would have enjoyed it," she told me.

She was trying to cheer me up, but...it wasn't working.

"From your description of it, I am certain I would have,"I sighed. I told her of my acute discomfort at the concert thinking about her.

"You should have called me the next night!"she exclaimed. "We could have had fabulous phone sex about that!"

"A lost opportunity," I sighed.

"Yes, yes it was,"she replied somewhat wistfully.

About a year later, she came down to move in with me. It was glorious. We were down to fuck every day.

Of course, we continued with our dirty talk in the bedroom as before. The leg-shaking, squirting, and multiple orgasms she had all but convinced me that she got off on our shared fantasies as much as I did.

We even shared these fantasies while driving. I was often treated to one of her outstanding blow jobs or hand jobs.

Early on in our pillow talk, she quickly learned how vivid and detailed my cuckold fantasies were and how much it aroused me to hear her talk about some of her past experiences with other men and how much I enjoyed living them vicariously through her.

One night, as we lay curled up in bed after a frantic fuck, she was stroking my hardening cock. Slowly, she began to share additional details about the Hallowe'en party she attended two months after we started dating.

She confessed that she had a few drinks, and spent the night tipsily talking to, and flirting heavily with a seriously, hot guy. He told her how much the drop-dead sexy vampire costume she was wearing enamored him.

I was definitely in her thoughts, she said, but it was early in our relationship. I was far away, she was horny and needed to get laid "in the worst way," she whispered.

Listening to the music, they went out to the dance floor, wrapping their arms around each other. As they pressed their bodies close together, their hands began to wander.

He ran his hands up her sides to her breasts, with one hand sliding underneath her dress to gently pull at her nipple. His other hand reached down and caressed her ass.

"I thought about you at that moment," she said softly. "How you told me you'd love to watch another man's hand on my ass. How hard I knew you'd be hearing about it. God, I was so turned on. I was dripping wet,"she purred.

She described the large erection she felt grinding into her, and how much she loved it.

Nibbling on an earlobe, a major erogenous zone for her, he sent electrifying erotic pulses directly to her already soaked pussy.

"I knew that I was going to fuck him that night or, thinking back, maybe he knew that he was going to fuck me. Either way, we both knew we were going to fuck," she breathed into my ear.

She eagerly took him back to her shared apartment.

Luckily, her roommate was away at the time so she was free from having to be quiet and free from having to explain to her why I wasn't the one she was dragging into her bedroom that night.

"It was incredible. We fucked each other's brains out all night and well into the next afternoon. I lost count of how many times I came. Once on my back, and more than once riding him. Once standing in the shower and more than once being fucked from behind at the dining room table. I think that was my favourite of all of them. I came hard and loud. My orgasms seemed to go on and on. We must have fucked there for over an hour,"she exclaimed.

I groaned when I thought about how many times we had eaten at that table since then. Every time we sat there, she must have thought excitedly about fucking her one night stand there, being pounded from behind as held her hips, how violent and loud her orgasms were and how they rolled on and on.

I asked sheepishly which side of the table they used for this debauchery.

"Would it excite you to know it's the side you always sat at when I invited you to dinner. I must have chosen it subconsciously,"she surmised.

I moaned loudly at her confession.

She knew instinctively how incredibly aroused I was by her vivid recollections from the night of the party by feeling my hard cock throbbing in her hand.

"Now that I know what you like," she whispered into my ear, "what other sexy adventures do you think I should have?"

Suddenly, I burst all over my stomach and her breasts. I happily licked them clean.

This was the beginning of a long history of shared fantasies that turbocharged our already passionate sex life.

She engaged in sex with others whenever an opportunity arose, which was often. Normally, I wouldn't learn about her trysts until well after the fact, when she decided to share it with me. Thankfully, I never had to wait long.

I learned to crave the taste of her infidelities upon her, from her come stained lips, to her com covered breasts; juices or how passionately and deeply she would kiss me with that unmistakable salty taste.

I loved trying to remember all of her extraordinarily passionate moments that were inflamed by her infidelity. It was a fun erotic exercise for my overstimulated mind.

She went on to have several adventures that she delightedly relayed to me well after she had them, satiating my burning lust and utter delight.

My sexual pleasure always came from listening to her seductive voice telling her story. I never wanted to watch her in the throes of passion with someone. For me, my imagination was a powerfully erotic aphrodisiac.