Penny's Promiscuity - 7 - Rapid Replay free porn video

The buzz of excitement that followed my first Official Hotwife Date was almost tangible.

Though my affair was well over a month old, Monday evening’s date had been the first time my lover and I had met with my husband’s full knowledge; the first time he had fucked me with Pete’s not-entirely-unreserved-but-helplessly-excited acquiescence.

After over a year of almost nightly persuasion, my husband had finally ‘got what he wished for’ and now his formerly-faithful wife of over twenty years was actually having sex with another man. Not just in our bedroom fantasies; not just in his overactive imagination; this time another man’s erect cock was actually penetrating my body on a regular basis, making my husband a cuckold while delivering some of the best sex of my entire life.

I had confessed my adultery in bed one Sunday night in December when my previously secret affair with Tony, one of our closest family friends was nearly five weeks old. The confession had been as unplanned as the affair and had nearly cost me my marriage but, after one night in the spare room and two more somewhere I was yet to discover, my extraordinary husband had returned.

In probably the most emotional conversation of our long relationship, Pete had not only accepted that he bore some responsibility for my infidelity but that, under some conditions, he could accept it. To my amazement, my husband had told me I could continue to meet and fuck my new lover.

To borrow a phrase from my writing; I had become a Hotwife and my husband a Cuckold.

Monday had been the first time Tony and I had met under these new conditions. Pete had helped me get ready for my date and had even insisted on driving me to my assignation. Hours later, pale and trembling, he had picked me up from Tony's apartment, dishevelled, freshly-fucked and with another man’s semen literally oozing into my panties.

Pete had inspected my well-used body carefully in our bedroom afterwards, his eyes wide in horrified excitement as the reality of what had happened rushed in on him. His wife of over twenty years really was having sex with another man; the evidence of infidelity on my body had been unmistakeable. Although Pete had been disappointed at the lack of bodily fluids between my thighs, my gaping red vagina had been clear proof both of my recent insemination and of the considerable disparity in girth between my two lovers’ erect cocks.

Pete had then had taken me so wildly and so forcefully that, in a mix of pleasure and pain, I had enjoyed the first orgasms at his hands for nearly a year, after which my husband had added his semen to my lover’s inside my body.

Later, Pete told me in no uncertain terms that the time between dropping me off and picking me up had been both the best and worst times of his life. The hours of agony had been almost unbearable; knowing I was being touched by another man’s hands; that my lips were being kissed by another man’s lips, that my body was being invaded by another man’s cock; that another man’s semen was being pumped into the place only his should ever be.

When I had joined him in the car afterwards he looked like a man who had starred into the mouth of Hell. But he had told me in bed afterwards that along with the agony of this torment had come a level of arousal he had barely glimpsed before, even during our fantasies. The sickening feeling in his belly and the steel-grey dullness of pain in his mind had been accompanied by some of the most powerful erotic images and emotions imaginable.

As he had told me in a hushed voice, the blend of agony and ecstasy had been exquisite.

I have to say that when I got back into the car after my date having just received two doses of Tony’s semen and looked at my cuckolded husband’s face, it was hard to see any sign of ecstasy. Evidence of agony was there in abundance; Pete had looked simply terrible; pale and ghostly. His hands were trembling on the steering wheel, he could barely speak and for a long time he couldn’t bring himself to look at my face.

As we drove through the dark streets back to our home I wondered whether our marriage could ever recover from what had just occurred. But to my relief, once we were back in our bedroom and my husband had reclaimed me physically and violently, it quickly became clear that not only had the evening been an unexpected success, there would probably be more evenings like it.

So my first Official Hotwife Date had gone well. There was a lot to learn but we were still married and ready to learn our lessons together.

*

Work was really busy throughout the Tuesday, but Pete and I managed to exchange a few texts as we went along. From the tone of his messages it was clear that he was having at least as much difficulty concentrating as I was. I exchanged a few messages with Tony too. Predictably he was keen to know how Pete had taken the whole thing but I didn’t tell him any more than he needed for reassurance.

Though both men now in some way owned my body, only my husband owned my soul.

It felt really strange being in the normal environment of work all day, trying to appear the same outwardly when my personal life was going through such a transformation. Once or twice when I was most distracted, colleagues asked me if everything was alright. I’m sure I flushed pink every time but fortunately at my age this could be put down to the menopause. Whenever I went to the Ladies Room I looked in the mirror for signs of having become a fallen woman too but apart from the carefully concealed ‘hickey’ on my neck there were none.

Why I should feel more exposed having become a Hotwife than I had felt when I was having an affair is a mystery – it was with the same man after all - but that’s how I was all day. It really did feel as if I had become a character in one of my stories, the big difference of course being that this time, I couldn’t simply decide what the ending was going to be and make it so.

I had to live this Hotwife life for real!

When I got home that evening, Pete had bought me flowers and was cooking a meal, something that hadn’t happened for a long time. Over dinner, at his insistence, we talked about my date again and again, Pete asking for more and more detail each time. For me it was exciting to re-live the evening and to know my husband really was alright about it.

Though it was clearly painful for him to hear, Pete kept asking how much bigger Tony’s cock was than his, how it had felt to be stretched by it and how it made me feel now. As of that morning the answer was clear; it had been really great at the time but I was sore, my hips ached and my tummy was in some discomfort now.

He wanted to know intimate details about what Tony had done to me in bed too, what I did to him in return and in what way Tony’s technique was better than his own. He asked how many times I had climaxed, how strong the orgasms had been and what I had said when I came. Had I talked dirty? What did I want to do with Tony next?

The truth was that after my first climax very early on, most of the sex was just a blur, albeit a wonderful, sensual blur in which I came several times more. In the end, I was forced to invent a few naughty stories just to get Pete off my back.

I also had to explain that I hadn’t gone to bed with a tape measure under the pillow just to measure my lover’s cock and report back to my husband! Perhaps all men are like this but the way Pete asked and asked was almost self-flagellation on his part; as if he wanted the pain; he wanted to hear how much better a lover Tony was and how much bigger his cock was!

If I’ had thought about it, all this was quite in keeping with one of my very earliest online discoveries; that cuckolding was actually a form of masochism for the man concerned. Certainly the way my husband was behaving suggested this was right in his case but my husband’s insistence on knowing everything was, if nothing else, exhausting. It was actually a relief when the phone rang and Pete, who was ‘on-call’ at the hospital, was summoned in.

After he had gone to work I had the house to myself; peace at last, and a little time for reflection about what had happened and of course what might happen next.

Before leaving, I had asked Pete whether, now he had tasted what it felt like to be knowingly cuckolded, he was content for the affair to continue. After a moment’s thought, he had said quietly and calmly that he wasn’t sure. The first date had been so harrowing that he didn’t know if he could handle such intense emotions over and over again.

“Do you want it to stop now?” I asked as unemotionally as I could, remembering my promise but silently praying for the right answer.

“N... No....” he replied a little less certainly than I had hoped. “At least not yet.”

“What would you like me to do?” I asked in as calm a voice as I could manage, adding hastily and truthfully, "I don’t want you to be hurt.”

Pete thought for a moment more.

“Maybe... maybe if you arranged just one more date,” he said uncertainly. “If it doesn’t get any worse...”

Frustratingly, he didn’t finish the sentence and I didn’t feel able to press him further.

“So shall I arrange to see him and...?” I let my sentence hang too.

“Fuck him?” Pete finished my sentence for me. “Do you want to Penny? Do you want him to fuck you again?”

“Yes I do,” I replied, clearly and unambiguously. “I want him to fuck me again.”

Pete took a deep breath and shivered visibly.

“Then do it,” he said. “Just fucking do it!”

With those words he left the house. A moment later I heard the roar of his Porsche as it reversed out of the driveway.

I close the front door and stood still in the hallway, almost unable to believe my good fortune. Not only was I still married, if Pete could say this so soon after my first date, it could only mean that, so far at least, my extraordinary husband really was content with the adventure we were tentatively embarking upon.

With Christmas so close, I knew arranging a tryst with Tony would be difficult with all three of our kids coming home over the next few days. I knew his children were arriving soon too so I sent a text straight away to give my lover the good news and to try and find a safe date to be together.

A shiver of excitement coupled with disbelief rippled through me as I typed the message on the screen of my phone. Was I really arranging for another man to fuck me for a second time with my husband’s full agreement? Surely this couldn’t be real?

But real it was. While I waited for Tony’s reply, I cleared the dining table, reflecting on my new status and the way my first ‘Official Hotwife Date’ had gone. Though there were still reservations, in truth it could hardly have gone better.

For me, as well as being sore and tired, I felt happier, sexier, more confident and more attractive than I had for years; even more than when Tony and my relationship was an affair. The fact that my husband both knew and approved made all the difference; no deceit, no fear of discovery, no risk to my marriage. Just really great sex with a gorgeous man!

But I was also a bit dazed and confused and felt caught up in the extraordinary momentum of my new life. A few short weeks ago I had been a middle-aged, sensible, outwardly ordinary research scientist and a completely faithful wife and mother.

Okay, I also wrote erotic stories about adultery but only one close female friend knew that.

One unplanned afternoon later I had become an adulteress. A few weeks after that, I had been transformed into the Hotwife of a willing cuckold husband.

It was hard to comprehend.

When I had started the ball rolling by letting Tony actually seduce and fuck me instead of jokingly declining his routine, half-hearted advances, it had been on the spur of the moment rather than the carefully planned affair I had imagined and had written about in my stories. I don’t think I had really understood where it might end up and was still not quite sure how I had got to this stage so quickly but at that moment I was happy to be there. What was much more important; my husband Pete seemed happy too so that would appear to be satisfactory all round.

Once the table was clear, I unloaded my clothes from the washing machine and hung them to dry. I didn’t notice it at the time but my semen-stained panties were nowhere to be found.

*

Later that evening, Tony texted back. I was in the kitchen and grabbed my phone with almost childish excitement, reading his surprisingly long message word by word. Much of what he said was too embarrassing to write even in this story and made me blush despite being alone in the house but the gist of the message was clear; he would really love to see me again.

The problem was that his kids were coming home earlier than I had expected so the only safe time to meet was on Thursday night. This was only two days away and would have meant having two dates with him in one week – our first week too. This was much more than Pete and I had agreed. I told Tony I’d get back to him after I’d talked to Pete.

I called my husband’s mobile and told him what Tony had said. Pete was in his car on his way home. There was a long silence which worried me.

“Are you okay Pete?” I asked anxiously.

“Y...Yes,” he replied uncertainly.

“Do you want me to tell him I can’t go? Have you had second thoughts?”

“N... No,” he said quietly. “It’s just a bit sooner than I had expected. I thought with Christmas coming...”

“That there’d be a bit of a break to get used to the idea?”

“Yes I suppose so.”

“I could tell him we’ll have to wait until after the kids go back,” I said, hoping that wasn’t his plan.

There was an even longer pause before Pete’s voice returned.

“You’re sure you’re not in love with him, Penn?” he asked. “You’re sure it’s just sex?”

This time it was my turn to pause. When I spoke the words of my online friends were in my head; be direct, be clear, and don’t leave any room for doubt.

“I’m sure, Pete. It’s just sex. I just want him to fuck me and make me cum. I don’t want him to marry me.”

I’m sure I heard a sharp intake of breath. My heart thumped in my chest as I waited for his reply.

“Okay Penn. Do it! Go and see him.”

“You’re sure?” I asked.

Pete laughed hollowly.

“Of course I’m not sure Penny! How could I be sure? My wife’s going to be fucked by another man. You’re going to have another man’s thick cock stuck inside you again. He’s probably going to make you cum when I can’t; he’ll probably even cum inside you. How can I be sure about that?”

“But...” I began.

“I am sure we need to do it though,” he interrupted. “It was agony last time; sheer unadulterated agony but if it’s what you need, it’s what I need too. Fix it up and fuck him before I come to my senses and change my mind.”

My husband is simply wonderful!

When I called Tony and told him what Pete had said, he was thrilled too but said we would have to make do with a takeaway and watch a movie as he would have no time to cook.

This was fine by me as far as it went but I hoped he had other, more physical plans for me as well as food!

So as I lay in bed later that night next to my cuckolded husband, my body still aching from the night before, it looked like I was to have my second ‘Official Hotwife Date’ in only two days’ time. My tummy bubbled with excitement and anticipation as I remembered what it had felt like being in bed with my lover barely twenty-four hours ago.

I chuckled as I thought about my ‘vampire bite’ hickey too and hoped it would have faded by then. Given what I expected us to be doing, there would be no way of hiding it from Tony.

Things were starting to gather a momentum of their own. Surely a confident, professional woman my age with grown-up children shouldn’t feel this way! I should be out lunching with friends or shopping, talking property prices, flower arranging or visiting garden centres, not aching from too much sex, trying to hide love bites and looking forward to cheating on my husband yet again!

And yet it made me feel so good, so young, so attractive, so… exciting!

What on earth had I started, and where on earth would it lead?

*

Wednesday was the third day of Pete and my new ‘lifestyle’ and had been very close to a normal day; close enough for me to feel relatively content if it became the norm from then on. Although he still needed to ask questions about my date, I could tell from the reduction in tension between us that Pete had either come to terms with it or at least was very close to that state of mind. He was still very attentive but not ostentatiously so; he just made the tea more often and tidied the house better, especially after meals.

I felt much more relaxed too though I did spend half an hour in the evening going through my knicker-drawer and throwing out all the panties I found that were too big, too old or not sexy enough for what I imagined a new Hotwife would need. Several of my older, less sexy bras hit the bin too so I had put together an urgent shopping list to prevent me having to go out ‘commando’.

I still couldn’t find my new black and semen-stained panties from Monday night’s date. I knew I had worn them home but they had completely vanished.

My next date was only twenty-four hours away and I was still a little sore from the last one. To my disappointment, my hickey was still clearly visible on my neck so I had planned to talk to Pete when he came home from work about the problems with marking me.

Thanks to school discos in my youth, I was familiar with love bites and to be honest in other circumstances might even have found one quite an erotic souvenir. This however was a proper bite that had actually broken the skin in one place and most certainly did not belong on the neck of a woman my age. I hoped my online friend Richard was right and that Tony wouldn't mind.

I had gone to the gym after work that evening wearing a hooded top to hide my shameful mark. As I was on my way out through the cafe bar I had bumped into Tony’s estranged wife Julie. As usual she was on her way into the gym for yet more exercise. Also as usual she looked stunning for her age.

Getting fucked regularly by a man twenty years her junior seemed to be making Julie look younger and prettier rather. My own sexual athletics were making me feel older and exhausted. Life was unfair, I thought rather bitterly.

As we settled into our seats with our coffees, I remembered that, during some recent pillow talk, Tony had told me that his cheating wife had been making tentative overtures about getting back together. Her timing was ridiculously perfect of course, asking for a rapprochement precisely when Tony had found himself a regular bed-partner in me.

He had told her that he wasn’t interested; that she had hurt him too much and was still flaunting her infidelity but of course, you never know. Perhaps all was not rosy in the land of the cradle-snatchers; perhaps she was having difficulty living with a boy who was twenty years younger than she was, I wondered maliciously.

I was surprised how easy I found it to talk to her while in the midst of an affair with her estranged husband. It might have been because I knew what she was still up to herself but even so, I would never have guessed I could have been so calm in the circumstances.

But then there were a lot of things I hadn’t thought myself capable of, weren’t there?

Julie was still outwardly full of bravado over her young lover but after a while she confirmed what Tony had told me; that she would really like to get back together with him and for him to move back into the family home. Reading between the lines, it appeared that even the greatest of sex could only take a girl’s mind off immature male behaviour and untidiness for so long.

Her lover wasn’t even thirty yet and she was over fifty - my age to within a few weeks! I gave them no more than six more months together but her situation reinforced what I already knew; that I was incredibly lucky to be married to a man who would allow me to have the best of both worlds – great sex with other men and a steady family relationship at the same time.

Julie had felt she had to choose between them. That’s if her head had been involved in the decision at all. In truth, even for someone who knew her well, Julie’s behaviour had been baffling. As well as pretty, she was and is a very intelligent and educated woman. I couldn’t imagine what had made her do such an unwise thing.

She was paying a high price for her decision. Her kids were pretty much the same ages as ours but didn’t like going home to see their Mum when her boyfriend was there. He was only a few years older than her children after all and was in many ways less mature. This meant they stayed away most of the time.

Although her young lover still had a flat, he mostly lived with Julie in the family home. To avoid meeting him, her kids preferred to stay with their father in his apartment despite the lack of room, hence my not being able to meet Tony over Christmas.

I shuddered; I couldn’t bear it if our three children avoided seeing me. Even the greatest of sex couldn’t be worth that!

Whatever the reason, Julie was definitely trying to get back into her husband’s life but told me he had made it clear that he wasn’t interested yet. I knew from Tony that this was true but from his tone of voice I suspected she would have eventually humiliated herself in public enough for him to forgive her and go back to her.

I was sure Tony still loved her even if, right then, he didn’t like her much.

Julie’s sexual antics were well known around our circle of friends. They had attracted envy in some quarters but unease in most. After all, if her marriage could break down in such a spectacular way, perhaps no marriage was safe.

What would happen to her husband’s relationship with me if they did get back together could only be guessed, but if Julie’s story was to be believed, I had a good few months in which to worry about that.

The thought went round and round my mind as I drove myself home afterwards.

*

Thursday, the day of my next Official Date arrived and, as on the Monday before, it passed painfully slowly. Even the distractions of the hospital couldn’t keep my mind from drifting and I kept checking the condition of my hickey in the mirror when alone. As a souvenir, it was surprisingly powerful; reminding me of my new Hotwife status and what I hoped awaited me in Tony’s apartment that very evening.

It’s fortunate that as a scientist rather than a physician, I have few actual patients of my own or they would have felt a bit neglected.

But eventually it was time to go. I covered the journey home in record time and, after drawing me a bath, Pete helped me get dressed again. This time, as well as more of the recently-bought lingerie, I chose a short, figure-hugging skirt, dark tights with knee high boots, a long jumper and a leather jacket.

Still sexy but less intimidatingly formal, I hoped. And a lot warmer too!

Even Pete’s pre-date hand-job passed off successfully this time. There were no problems with his erection that night and although it was messy, I rather enjoyed the novelty of watching and making him cum using my hands alone.

I had seldom seen my husband ejaculate – as I have explained, I have always had ‘bit of a thing’ about my lovers cumming inside me; for me it’s the only way any form of sex should ever end – so the volume of semen as it spurted over his toned tummy took me by surprise, as did the intensity of my husband’s climax.

At the appointed hour, Pete drove me round to Tony’s flat once more. Although he was still very much upset, this time his excitement was much more visible too though I noticed his knuckles were still white as I closed the door behind me and buzzed my way into the apartment block.

When I entered the flat, there was a lot less tension between Toy and me too. Both of us were much more relaxed, the awkwardness of our previous date had gone and the whole thing was much, much more sexually oriented. I’m embarrassed to say that Tony and I were making love in the lounge within twenty minutes of my walking through the door. I hadn’t even had a chance to take my top off!

Fortunately my online friend Richard had been right; Tony didn’t care about the bite mark Pete had given me, though if anything it was more noticeable than before. He thought it was sweet, kissed me there many times and we laughed about it.

He even threatened to ‘balance me out’ by giving me another on the other side but I told him I could do more damage to him from where my mouth was so he’d better get that thought out of his mind straight away. As my lips were actually around the head of his cock at the time, he had every reason to listen to me!

After ‘Round One’ on Tony’s sofa, we ordered in pizza and lay there together watching a film on DVD. It was one of my favourites and made us both laugh. It was a wonderful close couple of hours; I wore nothing but one of Tony’s old rugby shirts and he was in his bathrobe. We smooched and kissed and fondled each other throughout the film which was wonderful at the time but gave me some misgivings later.

When the film ended I was so aroused by his wandering fingers that Tony had to take me straight into the bedroom and make love to me again. This time it started very caring and loving but built quickly to something that frightened me and probably scared tony too.

For me there is a startling level of arousal that I have heard called a ‘breeding frenzy’. According to my online researches (and the two close female friends with whom I had discussed it), it’s something many women experience; a complete and total – almost primeval abandonment to the physical need to be inseminated.

I knew from past experience that it could happen to me with or without orgasm but could be equally overwhelming either way. I had only reached this level of arousal a handful of times, and those moments had been some twenty years ago when Pete and I had actually been ‘trying for a baby’.

When I had gone into that wild, almost feral mode, something deep within me had taken over; I seemed to throw all sense of propriety or self-respect to the winds and made loud, passionate and often vulgar demands on my lover. In the ‘breeding frenzy’, all I wanted was to have a man fuck me as hard as he could; to dominate me; to hurt me sexually; to cum deep inside me and for me to be impregnated by him.

And in the frenzy I told him so in no uncertain terms!

Given the opportunity, I suspect I wouldn’t be too fussed which man it was so it was very fortunate that only my husband and one previous boyfriend had ever seen it!

When it had first happened, Pete had been stunned. I had come off the pill a month before and we were trying to make me pregnant with our first child. Something about the time, the place, my partner and above all, the purpose of our copulation had increased my arousal to a level I had never encountered before. As he thrust into me, Pete was as stunned as was I at the words that escaped my lips and the wild, uncontrolled energy I had been helpless to prevent putting into our lovemaking.

I had discovered I was pregnant soon afterwards.

That evening, for the first time in over twenty years, it happened again. As Tony fucked me on his bed that second time, pinning me spread-legged to the mattress, his thick stubby cock stretching me so tightly that it actually hurt, the sexual beast buried deep within me for so long broke out noisily, energetically and uncontrollably.

I wailed and howled beneath him, using every four letter word that came into my mind, raking his shoulders, back and buttocks with my fingernails and sinking my teeth into his forearms either side of my shoulders.

Though clearly taken aback, Tony soldiered on, thrusting over and over again into my wildly thrashing, pulsating body in as close to a rhythm as my convulsions and exclamations would allow. My memories are naturally fuzzy but at one point I could hear myself begging him to knock me up; to make a baby in me!

The pleasure and emotion were so intense that I came close to fainting and was in floods of angry, baby-crazed tears by the time Tony’s cock pumped its second load of semen into my pulsating vagina.

After two decades of monogamy, I had all but forgotten about this long-past but still frightening side to my sex drive. I was a middle-aged professional woman, a mother of three grown up children about to embark on the dreaded menopause. This wasn’t supposed to happen; women like me weren’t supposed to get this badly out of control. It shocked and unnerved me considerably.

Naturally I was terribly embarrassed afterwards, ashamed and more than a little disgusted with myself. The old-fashioned words ‘will you still respect me’ came flooding into my mind along with the after-shocks of the multiple orgasms that had accompanied my loss of control.

I’m sure it shocked Tony too but he was too much a gentleman to say anything. However he felt inside, he behaved impeccably, taking me in his arms as if nothing unusual had happened, kissing me gently and holding me tightly as the tears rolled down my cheeks and the trembling slowly faded.

*

Half an hour later, all I wanted to do was go to sleep in his arms with his seed deep inside me. But that would have betrayed my husband; I had to go home.

I dressed, still shaking a little while Tony cleared up the dinner plates giving me a little privacy. Once I felt brave enough, Tony reluctantly escorted me to the door, kissed me in the darkness of the stairwell before letting me out into the cold night air. Its effect was immediate and reviving; as I crossed the tarmac I began to feel more and more in control again.

Pete’s Porsche was waiting in a discreet corner of the car park. I opened the passenger door and slipped inside, wondering what state he would be in this time. Though pale and shaking, I was pleased to see him much more composed than after my first date and when he saw how exhausted I was, he held back on his questioning.

We drove home in near-silence but the tension between us was at least as sexual as it was angry or jealous. This time I had remembered not to have a shower before dressing. This was definitely a good move; half way home Pete whispered that I smelled of ‘sex and sweat’ which judging by his tone of voice was a good thing.

When we got to our bedroom, Pete made me take off my tights and skirt and sit back on the bed, spreading my legs wide so he could see the ‘scene of the crime’ while he asked me all about my date. He announced that I was gaping even wider than before. I told him what had happened honestly and in detail which he seemed to love, though he looked a little alarmed when I described how the ‘breeding frenzy’ had struck again.

My online friends had been so right about being open and honest. Despite having been unfaithful once again, despite having my lover’s fluids still within my body, telling Pete the unadulterated truth made me feel strangely clean.

Knowing I had no deep secrets from my husband made all the difference. It clearly made all the difference to him too and as he stripped off my few remaining clothes quickly and roughly, I put up no resistance. This time there was enough evidence of infidelity inside my panties and on my body to satisfy even Pete’s fantasies.

There was no second hickey to balance the first but there were small teeth marks around my left boob and of course my vulva was puffy and distended with, according to Pete, just a tiny amount of semen oozing from it.

Though sore and tired, I knew I had to let my husband take me too and in any way he wanted. As before, that turned out to be rough. Pete fucked me with at least as much passion as he had on Monday night, hammering into my loose, well-used vagina with an energy bordering on violence. I was too exhausted to reach a proper orgasm this time but nevertheless could feel something building within me that was very pleasant if less intense.

I could see tears in his eyes and a look of pain mixed with joy on his face as Pete eventually added his semen to whatever remained of Tony’s in my vagina. I was too tired to do anything but lie there and let him get on with it but fortunately that seemed to satisfy him.

In his passion, Pete bit me on the boob this time. Now I had a large mark alongside my right nipple to match the one on my left from Tony and the hickey on my neck. I should have been angry with both my lovers but something within me quite liked the idea of a man wanting me so much he felt he had to mark me as his own.

It would act as a souvenir for the next couple of weeks before I could see Tony again.

Assuming my husband agreed of course. I had an increasing feeling that he would!

*

When I got up on Friday morning I found Pete had done all the washing and ironing the night before. He had got up early to set the table with croissants for breakfast – another favourite of mine – and there was a single red rose in a vase next to my place.

It would have been a perfect start to the day if my vulva hadn’t been so sore when I sat down.

The working day passed quickly for a change, my concentration only occasionally being broken by the aches, pains and soreness that provided a periodic reminder of my wickedness. During these moments however, a slight unease came into my otherwise strong and erotic memories of the evening, centring around a concern that Pete might be getting too upset during the date itself.

On advice from my online friends (and to his obvious delight) I had banned him from masturbation while I was with Tony and he was forbidden access to my body for three days prior to my dates. Doing the housework could only have been a way of keeping himself occupied and I didn’t want him to feel humiliated in that way. I wondered how other cuckolds kept themselves occupied during their wives’ dates. I most certainly didn’t want my loving husband to suffer – well, to suffer more than he wanted to!

I resolved to ask my online friends for their advice but there was no great rush; there were nearly two weeks of festivities ahead of me in which seeing Tony would be difficult. I proposed to spend them enjoying as normal a Christmas as possible, putting my Hotwife lifestyle on hold and reverting to being a Mum for a while.

It was time for a period of normality; time to get a bit more perspective on it all.

*

We enjoyed a lovely pre-Christmas dinner-party with our social group the following evening. It had become a tradition that we all met for dinner just before Christmas and for years we had taken turns to cook and play host. It wasn’t our turn this year, thank Goodness and I have to say it was great fun. There was more than a little booze consumed but we all took taxis in both directions like grown-ups should.

The evening had been poignant in several ways, the most obvious being that we were a group of ten that night when in almost all previous years we had been twelve. The missing two were of course, Tony and Julie. Both had been invited but perhaps sensibly both had declined. For me that had been a relief; I wasn’t sure I could have coped with Tony and Pete being in the same room when our new lifestyle was all still so new and unfamiliar.

The whole scandal of Julie and her young man came up often and with some relish. Most of us had tried not to take sides in the split-up but you could tell there was almost universal sympathy for Tony, ‘the poor man’ and a mixture of shock, disgust and envy for his slut of a wife.

I tried hard not to say anything; after all, I was in no position to pass judgement on anyone. Fortunately, because Julie and I were very close, my relative silence was put down to a desire not to denigrate my friends rather than any guilty sympathy.

Despite our best efforts, Pete and I couldn’t avoid exchanging meaningful glances over our meals when Tony’s name came up and it made me think that, if Pete wasn’t such an extraordinarily understanding - and perhaps perverted man when it came to me and sex, after my initial affair there could easily have been two more empty seats at that table.

Yet again I realised how lucky I was to have him as a husband.

I must say I had seldom seen Pete looking so happy or behaving as cheerfully as he did that night. He had never been a particularly outgoing person but seemed to have found a whole new spring in his step since I became his unfaithful Hotwife. He seemed so obviously content with life and almost embarrassingly proud of me that I felt like blushing.

What’s more, he had been going to the gym more often too, had started running again and, though these were still early days, was looking increasingly good himself. He spent a considerable amount of the evening flirting with the two girls on either side of him; friends that we had known for years. At first they seemed taken aback by this change in personality but I noticed were soon enjoying themselves and returning the flirty behaviour with interest.

Ridiculously, this made me feel a bit jealous by the time coffee was served but Pete’s frequent winks and the touch of his foot on my leg under the table helped me remain calm and happy, especially as the old friend on my right seemed to have developed a hitherto unsuspected ability to flirt with me too.

“Well what did you expect?” my husband asked later as we sat close together in the back seat of the taxi on our way home.

I had told him about the unexpectedly forward behaviour of my dinner companion. Pete’s voice was amused, his hand was on my thigh and he was gradually working his fingers upwards toward my groin, hoping I was too tipsy to notice.

I hadn’t had so much to drink that I would miss an obvious sexual advance like that, but I had drunk enough not to mind. I decided to let it happen and enjoy it.

“I mean, dressed like that someone was bound to flirt with you!”

“What do you mean?” I asked, pushing his fingers back towards my knee but not off my leg altogether.

“You’ve never worn a dress that short before. Thank God you were wearing tights and not stockings!”

I thought for a moment then a strange feeling passed through my tummy. Pete was quite right; without thinking, I had donned one of my new shorter dresses, one that he and I had chosen for my dates with Tony and which barely covered my bottom. It was only because of the cold weather that I had opted for tights instead of stockings – indeed at one point I had laid out my suspender belt ready to put on but had changed my mind at the last minute, thank God!

It simply hadn’t crossed my mind that this wasn’t my usual style of dress or that it would raise a few eyebrows among our friends. I was horrified.

“Oh my God! Why didn’t you say anything before we left home?” I demanded angrily. “Have I made a fool of myself?”

“No! No, of course you haven’t!” Pete immediately replied, grabbing my hand, “You looked absolutely amazing; you still do, Penn! Really sexy!”

There was a pause as the taxi rumbled onwards. Then I felt Pete take my hand in his and squeeze it.

“I don’t think you realise how sexy you’ve become since... well, probably since you first fucked Tony. Couldn’t you tell all the men were looking at you? All the women were too if it comes to that!”

“Really?” I asked, horrified. “What on earth will they think? We’ve known all of them for years; do you think they could tell?”

Pete laughed and whispered in my ear.

“Don’t be silly, Penny! You don’t have a sign around your neck with ‘Hotwife’ or ‘Slut’ written on it! Only three people on earth know how we’ve chosen to live our life. All anyone saw tonight was a truly gorgeous woman dressed sexily for a Christmas party.”

His slightly slurred words were having the desired effect. I felt his hand return to my thigh.

“I was really proud to be with you tonight,” he continued, his fingers raising the hem of my dress to the place where my stocking top would have been had I not worn tights. “It’s all a bit new for both of us. We’ll just have to be careful while we get used to the idea.”

I placed my hand on his, partly to show that I appreciated what he was saying, partly to prevent his fingers rising any higher up my thigh – at least while we were in the taxi.

“I think we both have a lot to learn,” I whispered and kissed him as the taxi pulled into our road.

It was well one o’clock when we entered the empty house, both rather tipsy and unusually amorous. After locking the front door and turning off the lights, I was surprised to find myself leading my willing and eager husband up the stairs to the bedroom where, moments later, I was further surprised to find myself naked apart from my bra and panties and kneeling by the bed.

Unfortunately, the alcohol had worked its evil way on my husband’s virility but after a few minutes hard work on my knees with my hands and mouth his cock was firm enough for me to make the next move. At my insistence, Pete lay back on the bed.

“What are you up to, my Little Hotwife?” Pete growled in excitement.

“Wait and see!” I whispered, climbing onto the bed.

A moment later I was straddling his pleasantly fit body, stroking the muscles of his chest.

“You like this?” I asked.

“Oh God yes!”

I smiled slightly drunkenly then lowered myself slowly and unsteadily onto his cock, taking it deeper and deeper into me. The looseness of my vagina along with the plentiful lubrication his attentions on the taxi had induced had worked. My bony bottom descended slowly and unimpeded until I was fully impaled on his long, slim erection, feeling the pressure of his tip against my cervix.

“Mmmm! That’s deep!” I hissed with pleasure.

A wonderful thrill passed through me. It really was deep. Pete’s cock had always been long but this position seemed to be making it even longer. I wriggled on his shaft, feeling its smooth tip moving deep within me, pressing my cervix and womb upwards into my belly.

I shivered then raised myself on my knees until just its head was still inside me. It felt daring; an unusual position for the two of us and the thrill came through me again before I lowered myself carefully into his cock.

‘Slap!’ The sound was loud and disgustingly wet. And I loved it!

I did it again, then again. Moments later I was riding him eagerly as I imagined a porn star would ride, eyes closed, hands on my erect nipples, my pelvis tilted in a desperate but largely unsuccessful attempt to stimulate my clitoris against his shaft.

“Oh Pennyyyyy! This is amaaazing!”

Pete‘s voice, like mine was slurred with alcohol but he was clearly enjoying it all.

“Where did you learn this?” he asked. “Did HE teach you?”

Slap! Slap! Slap!

“Did who teach me? Say it Pete!”

Slap! Slap! Slap!

“Tony! Tony! Did you do this with him?”

Slap! Slap! Slap!

“I do EVERYTHING with him! EVERYTHING!” I croaked, wriggling my pelvis as hard as I could to gain any extra pleasure I could find.

It worked to some extent. A surge of sensation passed through me, emanating from my groin. There was pleasure to be sure, but it was never going to reach the level of orgasm. I increased the speed of my riding.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

“Oh God Penny! You’re such a slut!”

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

“Yes I’m a slut! You’re married to a slut!”

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

“What do you love to do slut?” he croaked.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

“Fuck my lover’s cock! I love to fuck my lover’s HUGE THICK COCK!”

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

My fingers entwined with Pete’s, partly in passion but mostly to prevent myself falling forward on top of him. Now steadier, I could ride him even faster, rising higher and dropping harder and harder onto the long, slim pole of muscle that penetrated so deeply into me that it felt like I was being thumped in the belly.

“Fuck me Penny! Fuck me you Slut!” Pete growled.

I could feel his head beginning to swell and knew his climax could not be far away.

“That’s right Pete! I’m a Slut! Your wife is a cheating Slut!”

The swelling grew suddenly larger, the flared ridge of his smooth head grating against the insides of my passage. Pete’s climax was only seconds away; I had no hope of reaching one myself; all I could do was make it as powerful as possible for him.

“Cum in me Cuckold!” I croaked, tilting my hips forward and tightening my post-childbirth pelvic floor as hard as my age and the awkward position would allow. “Cum in your Slut wife’s CUNT!”

“Oh JESUS CHRIST PENNYYYYYYY!”

Pete’s noisy climax came hard and fast. He clenched his muscular buttocks tightly, ramming his hips skywards, deep into my descending body. His swollen end hit my cervix so hard it felt as if I had been punched again but I didn’t complain. Instead, I faked my own orgasm outrageously to match the grunts and grimaces coming from below me before falling helplessly across his chest as if completely satisfied.

I’m sure Pete realised my deception but neither of us cared. I lay on his chest, my tiny boobs crushed until I felt his cock soften and slip from my body. After we had recovered our breath and I had dismounted, Pete returned to his usual post-coital place between my thighs.

“I love your body… afterwards,” he said slightly dreamily. “It’s so… beautiful.”

I had always thought a woman’s vulva was one of the ugliest parts of her body; certainly I had never found a man’s penis to be attractive – however good it might make me feel. But I had long ago learned that men didn’t see it that way.

Pete lowered his face to my groin where presumably his semen was leaking out and to my exhausted delight, proceeded to finish me off slowly, lingeringly and expertly with his amazing tongue.

It was wonderful; the orgasm that quickly followed was short and intense but loving and sweet. I didn’t need to fake anything at all before we both fell asleep naked.

I woke in the night to find Pete pulling the duvet over us both.

“Are you ok Penn?” he whispered.

“A bit cold!” I shivered in reply.

He snuggled alongside me and hugged me tightly.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered as he stroked my newly-flattened tummy, “I can’t believe how sexy you’ve become.”

“Don’t tease me,” I chided, secretly glowing with pleasure at his words.

“I’m not teasing,” he insisted as his hands worked their way to my small boobs, “I just can’t get the thought of you out of my mind. The thought of seeing you being…” his voice trailed away.

“Being fucked by Tony?” I finished his sentence. Pete chuckled.

“Yes, being fucked by Tony. And you wouldn’t have used that word three months ago! Say it again!”

“Pete!”

“Go on, say it for me!”

I paused then smiled.

“Being fucked! Being fucked by Tony! Being fucked, fucked, fucked, fucked until I cum!”

“Enough!” he laughed, then paused for a moment, “Is his cock really much bigger than mine? Is he really much better in bed than me?”

“Pete, please!” I protested.

“You promised to tell the truth, Penny,” he said in a mock serious voice.

“I didn’t promise to tell you three times a day for the rest of my life,” I said in an exasperated voice. “Perhaps I should write it down so you can read it whenever you want.”

“Please Penn!”

I sighed in the darkness but my nipples were already hardening at the thought of Tony’s wonderful cock in my body.

“Okay then, but I have told you all this before. His cock is shorter and uglier than yours but much, much thicker. When he sticks it in me, it stretches me really tightly and that makes all the difference.”

“So he’s a better lover than me?”

For a moment I wondered what the ‘right’ answer would be; what it was that my husband really wanted to hear. Did he want me to reassure him he was still the best? Did he want me to praise his considerable oral skills? Or did he want the truth, that it was as much the novelty of a having a new lover, the joy of being seduced, of feeling attractive, being desired, of feeling sexy again rather than just the mere physical size and shape of my lover’s cock that was bringing so much excitement to my new sex life?

In the end I took a gamble.

“If you really want to know, he’s the best lover I’ve ever had. He’s giving me the best fucking of my life; he makes me cum harder and more often than I have ever cum before.” I paused for effect before adding: “But it’s you that made it all possible; you that persuaded me to do it; you that lets it all happen. I love you Pete and I’m lucky to have you for a husband!”

It was quite a speech and I held my breath, waiting anxiously for my husband’s response. When it came it was preceded by the pressure of his growing erection against my naked thigh and a long close hug.

“You’re the sexiest woman alive, Penny. I adore you. I can’t wait for your next date!”

Relieved, I breathed out long and slowly then laughed.

“That makes two of us! Now shut up and let me get some sleep!”