The Horny Wife 1

I am interested in sexuality. Sexuality is important to me. Coitus is an activity that I make sure I engage in on a daily basis. Most often, I engage my husband for that purpose, but there are occasions when I engage some other men. My husband does not mind that. He is very understanding and supportive and I truly love him for that.

When I get horny for another man, I make it a point to tell my husband about my feelings. I sit down with him and we talk. He is a great listener and lets me speak my mind freely. When I am gripped by a bout of horniness, my language becomes dirty and my voice becomes raspy, as if possessed by a demon. I talked to my doctor about it and she told me that it was due to a hormonal rush that affects my inhibitions and my vocal chords. The first time I was overwhelmed by horniness, my husband was shocked. He was speechless hearing me use dirty words like "fuck," "cunt," and "cock," and even got a bit scared by how my nostrils flared and my eyes shot up in red. When I started violently slapping my pussy and spitting on my breasts, he got alarmed. This was not something becoming of a respectable sixty one year old Chinese woman, the mother of two grown men, and the grandmother of three little angels. But the lack of decorum was not what really concerned him: it was the sudden change in me and the fact that it did not seem to be transient.

But has gotten use to it now and sees it as a curious development that needs to be soberly confronted head on and managed carefully and patiently.

Since I started engaging in extramarital fornication, I have made sure that my husband was in charge of managing the logistics of my coitus sessions with other men. He is the one who has built me my stable of men and he is the one in charge of scheduling my sessions. The logistics are far more complex than one would think. The men have lives and families and obligations that often militate against their willingness and desire to help us with our special needs. All of the men that he has found for me, without exception, are caring, considerate and very generous. Initially, they engaged us in a fit of lust and curiosity, but after the first couple of sessions, they all come back almost out of a sense of duty: they feel obligated to help out and feel a sense of honor in keeping their word to help us whenever we call on them.

As I said, most of the men are married and with children. As a matter of principle, I have made sure that I knew the names of the wives of each one of my men, and I always make it a point to ask the men about their spouses before we begin intercourse. Most of the men were initially uncomfortable discussing their wives and asked me to drop the practice. But I insisted and patiently explained to them why we needed to it. And in the end, they have all agreed that it was the right and moral thing to do.

Another practice that almost all of the men objected to initially was Harry's insistence that before every coitus session, Harry was to be allowed to engage the men in sexual intercourse -- mainly, Harry penetrating the man in his anus, to the point where Harry was on the verge of ejaculation. Harry explained this need on two grounds: first, the only way that he was going to countenance a man penetrating his wife was if he saw the man as at least partly a homosexual, and second, by having gotten himself to the verge of ejaculation, Harry would be in a far more elevated state of lust to oversee the coitus session.

The sessions usually lasted no more than 15 to 20 minutes. Harry usually watched us from the side lines, naked and massaging his penis, once in a while slapping it or slamming it against his thigh, while carefully watching move and encouraging us to focus and have fun. He frequently whispered helpful and timely tips to me and the man. "Lick his nipple," he would suggest to me, or "open your mouth, Pat," followed by, "Spit in her mouth, it's important for her to taste your insides...." At times he would help out by holding up my legs so that the man would be able to position himself firmly and comfortably (Harry saw his role as making sure we were comfortable), or he would provide lubrication when he felt that I needed it, or even provide water if he saw that the man was dehydrating (usually accompanied with him wiping sweat off the man with a towel). Once in a while, if gripped by a strong surge of lust, he would ask the man to take out his penis from my vagina so that he could suck it, swallowing whatever vaginal cream was on it, and slurping whatever cream was still on my vagina. In such sessions, when Harry was exceptionally aroused, he would also usually ask the man to penetrate him anally. Of course, this meant that the rest of the coitus between the man and myself had to be anal as well, given that sliding a cock that had penetrated an ass into a vagina is an absolute no-no (vaginal infection would be the sure consequence).

Towards the end, as the coitus is nearing the climax, Harry's focus would turn to synchronizing his ejaculation with the man's. He would watch the man's face carefully and would adjust his masturbation rhythm accordingly. The man would usually tip off Harry on how long he had left and at some point they would start counting down together from ten to zero, at which point, the man would take out his penis out of whatever hole he was penetrating and would move towards my face. Harry would do the same, thus resulting in a double ejaculation on my face. Most of the time, the semen is ejected directly on my forehead and hair, but during the sessions when Harry is possessed, he would order me to open my lips wide and he and the men would make sure to aim the eye of their penis to the center of my wide open mouth. The aim, being of course, to ejaculate the semen into my throat so that I could swallow it without wasting any of the liquid.

Once the session is over, Harry would usually quickly wash up and go to the kitchen to cook us an after-sex snack, which usually consisted in an eggs-Benedict omelette, olives, and fresh warm French bread, with some light white wine. While cooking, he would playfully call out to us "kids" to get up and wash, and once in a while, would drop by to encourage us to get up. At such times, he would be affectionate to both me and the man, usually by caressing us and kissing us gently.

After cleaning up, we would all sit down and eat our meal and chat about all manners of topics, from politics, to literature, to sports. At such times, I would smile to myself and think: "Isn't this how it should always be: people working together to make sure that they extract the most happiness and joy out of this world?" And looking at the two men surrounding me, I would know that they were thinking the exact same thing.