It all started with my wife and I sharing fantasies one night as a prelude to making love. She asked me what my sexual fantasies were as she slid her hand in between the buttons on my pajama top; thinking quickly I told her I married my only fantasy – she laughed and told me she wanted to know for real. The funny thing is I couldn't tell her my real fantasy as I was afraid she would freak, so I made up something about a desert island with her and I alone for a month with no kids or interruptions. Which in itself wasn't so bad.
She smiled and slowly pushed her full soft lips up to mine and passionately kissed me probing her tongue in and out of my mouth. Then she gently kissed her way down my chest and while inserting her hand in my pajamas and stroking my cock up and down. I quickly started to harden as I felt her lips lick and then gently kiss my nipples; soon she was lightly biting them and seriously stroking my cock. She had me hard as hell by time she asked if I wanted to know her fantasy. I actually didn't but thought I better say yes, so I asked her what her fantasy was.
She told me her long time fantasy was to pretend to be a hooker. I was shocked but managed a laugh and asked what she meant – a high priced call girl? She said not a call girl but a streetwalker who dresses really slutty and picks men up with her sultry ways. I asked her if she wanted to have sex with another man, almost afraid to hear the answer. She reminded me she said "pretend" and added she didn't want to be a whore, just dress like one and have guys drooling over her. She said she always thought it would be cool to show off her sexy body in a slutty manner. I couldn't believe this was coming out of my conservative almost-prudish wife, who never dressed provocatively in our whole marriage. In fact, she often went out of her way to hide her sexuality by dressing in very professional business-type attire that didn't show off her shapely body at all.
I was quite surprised and sat up straight as my cock began to deflate in her hand as I contemplated her fantasy. I asked her how long she had this fantasy. She was suddenly embarrassed and told me to never mind as she was sure that I didn't understand. The funny thing was I understood exactly what she was saying, as her fantasy was my fantasy that I was afraid to tell her earlier. I always wanted her to dress much more sexy in public and have guys hitting on her and lusting after her hot body. I felt guilty about my fantasy as I couldn't understand why her dressing sexy and having guys hitting on her was so exciting for me; was it to validate that I had STILL had this trophy wife that used to make me the envy of almost every guy I knew or was it something more perverted that I didn't know about myself that manifested itself in my fantasy. I really didn't want to know the answer to that question.
Even though I never wanted to really think about the root of my fantasy, I knew exactly what she was saying and knew that for her it was all about validation. After all she was the prom queen, head cheerleader and had more attention than she could handle as a teenager and coed in college. But now, after 15 years of marriage and three children, this 38 year old was feeling old and wasn't sure she could still turn the boys' heads. I think all women go through that stage of wondering if they can still churn a man's lust after they reach a certain age, especially women that were so beautiful in their youth like my wife.
It was funny that what started out as great sex suddenly became awkward and she froze there with her hand on my cock and head on my chest just staring off in to space. I told her that if she was worried about how sexy she was, that she was crazy – she was still the most beautiful woman in the world. And the truth of the matter is she is one hot woman for her age. Her 5'7", 130 pound frame was sleek and hot as ever with 36C breast that were still perfect globes of soft yet firm flesh that any man would go crazy over. Her ass was also firm and her stomach was pretty flat and the few stretch marks she had from bearing the children were mostly invisible. I knew that she was hot but both of us somehow needed validation, and I hated myself for sharing her fantasy as I tried to reassure her just how sexy she is.
She smiled and kissed me and started to rub my cock up and down again as I slowly slid my lips from hers and started to kiss my way down to those two perfect mounds that I love so much. My thoughts started to wander off as I pictured her standing on a street corner in a dress two sizes too small and these beautiful tits I was massaging and kissing heaving out of her half-cupped bra for every man to see and lust after. I ran my hand down her back stopping to squeeze her round ass then slowly running my fingers up and down her silky smooth thighs. I pictured how the dress would be so tight on her that one could actually make out ever contour of her toned little body. I could picture her with that coy smile and roll her tongue around her lips as she slowly slid her cigarette from her mouth making O rings with her cherry red lips knowing every man alive would kill to watch those lips slide over his throbbing cock.
It was from this picture that I was suddenly awaken when I felt my whole body tighten and my back arch as I began shooting my load into the air as her hand engulfed my cock. She smiled with a wicked grin as if she knew exactly where my mind's eye was at that very moment. I kept shooting more and more cum in the air flashing back and forth between the image of her dressed so slutty in my mind and her perfect breasts I was squeezing and sucking as I finished my last few spurts.
She laughed and told me I must like her fantasy as it had been a long time since she was able to make me cum from a hand job. I was embarrassed by my obvious pleasure of envisioning her fantasy. I had just slipped my hand up into her folds of her pussy when she grabbed my hand and slid up next to me and asked what I thought of her fantasy. She told me I must think she is such a bad girl to fantasize about such a perverted idea. I told her I was surprised as she never dressed 'slutty'. It was funny how we kept coming back to that word "slut" the rest of the night and every time we did I would notice a little shiver up her body.
She told me that acting like a slut was the best part of the fantasy for her. Even though she was the prom queen, she never dressed provocatively or flirted with that super charged body of hers. Her dad was a minister and always taught her to be modest respectful of what God had given her. I laughed to myself as I thought of how I read that often people who repressed their sexuality as young adults often went on to become some of the biggest pervs or sex addicts.