Sex with Hotwives

Giselle and I married in our early twenties and have led a fairly ordinary existence ever since. We both have a healthy appetite for sex and we're both willing try new things, up to a point. That said, we've had a conventional monogamous relationship.

We've managed to keep our marriage pretty interesting for over ten years now. Giselle is even hotter now than when we met in College. She's blonde, fairly tall at 5' 7" and as curvy as a mountain road. She has firm B-cup tits and a great ass below a narrow waist.

Giselle was first attracted to me because I looked like a gymnast to her. That's about the only sport I didn't do, but looking like a gymnast got her attention, so it's all good. My real sport was wrestling, and if you look up the state championships in my senior year, you'll see my name, Wayne Robertson.

Throughout our marriage we've remained true, though there have been plenty of temptations along the way. It seems like the girls come out of the woodwork when you get married, as if they are attracted by the fact that you are off limits now. And Giselle could fuck anybody she wanted to, no doubt about that. Many men tried and failed. Somehow we managed to stay the course, even though both of us have healthy appetites for sex and new experiences.

Over the years we often fantasized about extra-marital sex, possibly swinging. It's hot to talk about it and to play around while discussing who you want to fuck and how. Fantasy and reality are two different things, however. I didn't know if I could handle the reality of another man screaming like Tarzan while cumming in my beautiful wife's sweet little pussy. I really didn't know if I could handle her liking it. But the idea was fine; it definitely puts some wood in the old pecker. It is the shameful secret of many men that they get off on the fantasy of watching their wife get fucked by another man. Let me tell you straight off that I'm no cuckold. I'm not going to jack off while watching some stranger stretch out my wife's ass and I'm certainly not going to eat his cream pie when he's done. To tell the truth, what this whole fantasy was really about in my mind was me getting to fuck another guy's wife. I just knew that Giselle would have to get hers too, or she'd flip out.

If you plan to swing you have to deal with the inevitable emotions like jealousy, mistrust and anxiety. There has to be rules that are agreed upon before starting anything. When one party disregards the rules the shit hits the fan. I always figured swapping was fair, more or less. At least you're getting an equal return. To be truly fair, we would have to find a guy that could give Giselle as good a time as I would expect to have. It's harder for women. Men can fuck anything that's close to attractive and have a fantastic orgasm. Women need a desirable man who is a skilled lover to get them off.

Most of the time, the fantasy of extra-marital sex revolves around people you know. It's more plausible because it could happen and that's much more interesting than having fantasies about the unobtainable, like movie stars. Everyone knows another couple that you suspect would swing in a heartbeat, if you had the balls to ask them.

Giselle and I usually talked about which of our respective friends we'd most like to sample. The names that usually came up were Leslie and Ray. Leslie was a friend of Giselle's from way back and she had married Ray a couple of years ago, second marriage for both. We had plenty of other attractive friends, but very few couples who were attractive to both of us. Whereas I looked like a gymnast to my wife, Leslie really was one. She competed at a high level until a late growth spurt derailed her career. She was too tall and curvy to compete with the tiny little powerhouses that excel at that sport. Leslie still had the muscular body of a gymnast and it really set off her sandy blonde hair and green eyes. Her tits were bigger than Giselle's, a firm 36C. That may have limited her career in sports, but it surely didn't limit the size of the erection I had when I saw her braless in a tight T-shirt, one day.

Ray was a thin guy, fairly tall and ropey. He was handsome, in a seventies porn star sort of way. He's a nice enough guy in a way, usually upbeat and telling jokes. But he's a pervert and can sometimes say or do inappropriate things. He doesn't have a filter, which can get interesting. You just can't be sure what will come out of his mouth. I suspected that of all the couples we knew, they were the only ones who would go for swinging, mostly because Ray would do it in the drop of a hat and he'd pressure Leslie to go along with it.

I knew why I wanted to fuck Leslie; she was an athletic, curvy, buxom woman who had intelligence and attitude. I just knew she'd be a good fuck. I wasn't sure why Giselle felt that way about Ray. He was cool to hang out with in a strip bar, maybe, but a little off-putting at times.

Maybe it was because he had a big dick. I'm a healthy, average sized guy with some girth. Leslie had told Giselle that Ray was long, maybe eight inches, and thick in girth. As far as I know, Giselle had never had a boyfriend with a particularly big dick. They're rarer than you'd think. What if my wife turned out to be a size-queen? That wouldn't bode well for our marriage at all. I don't have a small cock, but if she gets off on the really big meat, then I can't compete. She'd have to keep stepping out on me to get fucked by the big bulls. Would she do it behind my back? I knew it was stupid to be jealous over an imaginary tryst that my wife hadn't had except in her fantasies, but I felt I had reason.

Giselle and I had done a little bit of kinky stuff, but I sometimes got the feeling that she was holding back on purpose. I had a theory that Giselle felt that she couldn't get into wild sex with me because it wasn't right to behave like that in marriage. She was a closet prude, in a way. But perhaps she felt she could let her hair down with a guy who meant nothing to her, like Ray. That's just my theory.

That bothered me, if true. I hoped I was dead wrong. But it made sense, in a way that only female logic could work. Ray would be a meaningless fling; I am her permanent relationship. What if she wanted to keep her marriage pure, but get into crazy shit on the side? It would be just like a woman to feel that she could fuck interracially, do threesomes or be gang banged all she wants on the side and it doesn't count as long as she "loves" only her husband. It's painful to think about it. I can separate the act of sex from love and deal with it, but there's still a line you shouldn't cross. That's the part of the fantasy of swinging that bugged me.

Then one day, out of the blue, Giselle informed me that she and Leslie had been talking and had discovered that they had the same fantasy about swapping with us! She and Leslie had decided that it sounded so good that it was time to take it to the next level.

I'd wanted to fuck Leslie for years, but I still wasn't sure how I'd react to seeing Giselle gargle a mouth full of cum from Ray. So I had mixed feelings when Giselle set up a date night with Leslie and Ray.

Due to the way our schedules worked, Ray would be taking Giselle out for a date and undoubtedly to fuck her brains out this very Friday, while I would do the same with Leslie on Saturday. That was going to be one tough day, having to wonder what was going on with my wife, and then having to wait a day to get mine. It was also thrilling to consider what might happen on both nights. I'd rather we did it all together, but Giselle and Leslie were not comfortable with group sex. They signed up for swapping, but that was it so far.

Friday came, and Ray showed up to take Giselle out. Leslie was working late and spending the night at a friend's apartment near work. That's why we had moved our date to Saturday. I opened the door for Ray, and he shook my hand, and then after a brief, uncomfortable pause, he hugged me.

"Don't worry about a thing," he said. "I'll take good care of Giselle. You do the same for me tomorrow, and all of us will have a really good time. It's an experience that you have to get out of your system, you know? You have to see if that's the lifestyle for you or not. If you both like it, there's no turning back!"

I nodded my head. "I trust you Ray. Everything's cool. Listen, Giselle is on the pill, but I'd prefer you wear a rubber. I'll leave it up to her, of course, but I want to put that on the table. I'll do the same for you."

Ray nodded, still smiling. Maybe he had just a little extra twist at the corner.

Giselle came downstairs at that moment, looking like a million dollar call girl. My dick got hard just seeing her. She was in a slinky mini-dress that barely covered her ass. It had plenty of cleavage showing, and almost no back at all. She was wearing my favorite combo of black nylons with seams up the back, and matching garter belt. I was betting that she was going commando tonight. Giselle is unbelievable with no panties on; she has an immaculate Brazilian wax, with perfect, pink labia and a puckered asshole that begs to be eaten. Her pumps were high-heeled, open-toed Ferragamo's. She was perfectly manicured and pedicured. It's not the kind of look that street whores can afford, and not exactly how the world has previously seen my yuppie wife, either. We kissed goodbye, and off she went, leaving me to trust Ray to bring her back alive and healthy. I watched TV to kill time, with butterflies tearing at my stomach. My imagination was probably much worse than the reality. I fretted, and yet at the same time, I was turned on by imagining Ray sucking and fucking my woman.

It was an overnighter, and she returned the next morning just before noon. As she straggled into the door, I couldn't help but notice that her stockings were gone, and her dress was wrinkled with signs of cum stains on the chest. Her hair was a fright, and I was sure that I could see dried cum on her hair and neck as well as behind one ear. She looked like she had been rode hard. Ray must be a man of great stamina. She insisted on giving me a peck on the lips, but her breath smelled like a used scumbag and there was a horrible smell on her somewhere. I actually flinched and had to exert self-control to keep from reeling back. I couldn't tell what was wrong, but she smelled strongly of ass. Then I noticed that there was a dark smudge under her nose...oh, no! Could it be what I thought it was? Did that fucker, Ray, give my wife a Dirty Sanchez? What the fuck had gone on last night? If that motherfucker drew a shit mustache on my wife's face, there was going to be hell to pay, him for doing it and her for coming home without washing her damn face!

"I was going to ask you how it went," I said sarcastically, "but I can see that you liked it enough to do it all night!"

She nodded her head and said she hadn't slept and would tell me about it later, after she took a shower and caught a few winks. I followed her into the bedroom, where she removed her dress. Sure enough, she had no panties. She did have some light bite marks and several hickeys, however. When she turned and walked to the shower, she dropped her watch. She bent over to pick it up, and I could see cum leaking out of her pussy and that her asshole had also taken some rough play. Her rectum was bulging out and swollen to three times its normal size. There was also a little blood on her ass cheeks. She was not that big on anal sex, so Ray was either a talented salesman or a really good fuck! I was not sure if I was very happy about that. The only thing that prevented me from flipping out was the fact that I was going to fuck Ray's wife this very night. And it looked like I really owed the son of a bitch. Obviously, he had three-holed my wife and was less than gentle about it. There was no longer a single orifice that I could call mine alone. We hadn't talked about it, but I had assumed that anal would be reserved for me alone, though we rarely did it. I guess I should have sat down with everyone involved and clarified the rules.

So here it was. My once loyal wife was now a "Hotwife." She was now the wet dream of every hot-blooded man in the world; a wife who fucks outside of marriage with her husband's consent. Is there anything hotter in the world? Could you resist fucking another man's wife and then sending her home to hubby with a cunt full of your steaming cum? You know you'd fuck her extra hard to prove that you're the better man. Anyone who knew Giselle fucked around would assume her to be fair game and probably expect me to like it. I didn't like it, so far. I might like it better when I'm not being cuckolded and get to fuck a Hotwife, myself. I guess it does beat being cheated on. It's a small distinction, but picking the guy who gets to nail your wife is better than her going behind your back and fucking strangers. At least I knew the guy, knew he was clean and disease free, and that I'd have his wife for collateral.

Giselle toweled off and plopped into bed. I asked her to tell me about her date.

"I'm so tired, sweetie," she said. "There's not much to tell. We just stayed at their place and had sex. Nothing crazy went on we just satisfied our curiosity and had some fun living out the fantasy."

I was unconvinced. "Did you enjoy Ray's style? Was his dick as big as Leslie says?"

"I don't want to talk about it, baby. Ray's dick is really long, but you're still my man. I've got to sleep, Honey."

She was sound asleep before her head hit the pillow. As used up as she was, she was still damn sexy. She slept all afternoon and woke up just a couple of hours before it was time for me to go pick up Leslie. She got dressed and got the hell out of the house, like she was supposed to. I had just enough time to change the sheets and prepare the house for my date. I still hadn't heard her story about the night before. I was kind of pissed at Giselle, though I knew damn well that this might happen.

I drove over to Ray's house and picked up Leslie. Ray wasn't there. I asked about him, and Leslie said that when she came home this morning, Ray was fucked out and looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. She said he did some boasting about his night with Giselle. Remember, no filter. The dumb bastard had gloated to his own wife about how he hard he'd fucked her best friend!

Leslie looked as fantastic as Giselle had, though more restrained. She was wearing a white strapless dress with shadow print tulle. It was knee-length, as opposed to the mini-dress my wife had worn. I wasn't sure what that meant. My wife had dressed like a whore, and Leslie was dressed for a nice evening out. I hoped that it didn't mean that while Giselle had fucked Ray with the wild abandon of a cum slut, I was doomed to missionary sex with a heavy side of guilt from Leslie. To ease my paranoia, she also wore sheer white stockings and a garter belt. That was a better omen. Her shoes were a pair of expensive Jimmy Choos, high-heeled sandals with straps. They were very sexy and I couldn't wait to remove them.

We had dinner at a nice restaurant and then went to my place for the inevitable. I was still pissed at Giselle enough to want a chance to even things up. That's what I planned to do, enjoy Leslie as much as she had enjoyed Ray.

I poured us some Champagne, from a bottle of well-chilled Cristal that I'd bought just for this occasion. We'd already consumed a bottle of Chateau Margaux with dinner, so the Champagne provided a pleasant buzz and helped ease any tension. It was like a clumsy first date between teenagers, except with money. Soon, I had removed those lovely Jimmy Choos and rubbed her feet. That led to extended kissing. She was good, as good as I'd ever had. She had soft lips that felt wonderful when kissing; I couldn't wait to feel them on my dick. Her tongue was warm and inviting. It was all feeling really good. Soon we were unbuttoning things and she was rubbing my chest and pulling at my belt while I was sucking a nipple and easing a hand into her panties. Yes, she wore panties, unlike my wife, but she had a thong and taking it off was a thrill. I left the stockings on. They were a sexy contrast against her tanned skin. I noticed that she seemed to enjoy playing with my chest and abs. I have a much bigger set of pecs than Ray and my abs are like a wash board. Ray has a six pack because he's skinny, mine is from strength. I was glad to see she appreciated the difference.

I picked her up in my arms, walked her up the stairs to the bedroom and set her on the bed. I lay down beside her, and we entwined together, kissing and playing with each other. Her pussy was smooth shaven and wet, and my fingers probed her, finding her clit and applying light pressure, gently circling it. She moaned as we continued to tongue kiss. Her hand was pumping my shaft, slowly. Occasionally, she went down to the balls and massaged them before returning to the dick. This was not going to take long if we kept it up, so it was time to give her pleasure.

The room was lit with aroma candles and I could see her gorgeous pussy in front of me as I knelt beside the bed. Her legs were draped over my shoulders as I licked her labia and then the hood of her clit, and then the clit itself. Her juices were flowing and they tasted sweet. She smelled clean and pure. Just eating her was going to be a treat, for both of us.

She lay on her back with her legs held high as I licked her clit, alternating between an up and down stroke, like I was painting trim, and then little circles. She moaned and her body shook as she had her first orgasm. I didn't let up at all, just eased the pressure until my tongue was barely touching her. I added a pair of fingers in her vagina, feeling for her G-spot and finding it. She started to moan again, and her hips began to writhe in little circles, matching my tongue. I inserted my pinky in her asshole. It was a gorgeous little rosebud, puckered nicely and pinkish in color rather than purple or brown. I brought her to two more explosive orgasms, the second more powerful than the first. Her body trembled and quivered and she let out a loud series of moans as she came for the third time this evening. I felt her sphincter clenching and releasing spasmodically as the waves of orgasm hit her. My fingers were still busy in her pussy and rectum. My tongue eased her down from the peak of the orgasm to a less heightened state, and her breathing slowly went from gulps to a slow, steady gasping.

"Oh my God," she said, "where did you learn to do that? I've never cum like that in my life!"

"That's called, 'the shocker.' I'm surprised that Ray hasn't done that to you. Giselle loves it."

It was good to know that Ray had never taken his wife to the place that I'd just taken her. After the damage he'd done to my wife's asshole, I wanted his wife to want me. I wanted her to think about me when he fucked her. Maybe even call out my name.

I smiled, face glistening with her juices. "I love eating pussy more than getting a blow job," I said. She gave me a doubting look, as I went on. "I've been waiting over ten years to taste you, and it was worth it."

She laughed and took my cock in her hand, bending down to administer a serious of licks up and down the vein on the underside of the shaft. Then she sucked nearly my entire ball sack into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it. I moaned and watched her at work. She really did have the softest lips I'd ever felt. When my balls were sufficiently swollen, she sucked my cock down her throat for a few strokes, and then stroked the shaft with her hand while sucking and licking the head, alternating between the two styles. Her other hand kneaded my balls like pizza dough. I felt my balls tightening up as I neared orgasm, and tried to warn her so she could finish me with her hands. But she shook her head no. Instead, she swallowed every squirt, milking me until my cock was limp, greedily pumping my dick and squeezing my sack to get the last drops. I'd never had a hotter blow job.