Becoming a Hotwife

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“The first time I cheated I was in my twenties,” Stela told me.  We were in a quiet cafe in the middle of the afternoon.  It was the first time we’d met in person after connecting on a dating app.“I hadn’t been married long and I wasn’t very experienced when I met my husband.  I was a good Puerto Rican Catholic girl if you can believe it. Sex wasn’t a priority for him.  Even as newlyweds, it was only a couple of times a week and always missionary. Sometimes oral, but not usually.  I wanted things I read about in novels and magazines. I was still working back then and I had an affair with my boss and got caught.”She was obviously nervous as she told me.  She fidgeted with her glass of wine, but I was confident I could put her at ease.  It was her first time meeting a stranger, but I had plenty of experience.“What happened next?” I asked.“We worked things out,” she said.  “We had a family. He made a lot of money and moved to the rich part of town.  I quit my job and became a stay-at-home mom. Things were good. At least until my youngest kid started school.”“Did the sex get better?” I asked.Stela blushed and looked away, but she wasn’t surprised by my directness. We’d been texting for days and she was growing accustomed to my approach.  It was my confidence and honesty that had initially drawn her to my profile. Unlike most men, I wasn’t looking for a relationship, but I made it clear that I wanted more than a one-night-stand. I was looking for a spark with someone special who craved sexual exploration with a dominant man.“No,” she answered.  “But a marriage isn’t all about sex.  And it wasn’t about his money, either.  We love one another. We’re best friends.  But the sex never improved. It’s always sweet and tender and infrequent.”“And you need more,” I stated.She blushed again.“Yes,” she said. “I want to be satisfied.  Fully. By a man who takes the lead. And it still hasn’t happened.”“But that wasn’t your only time cheating?” I asked.“No,” she said.  “The other time was a few months ago.”“How did it happen?”Stela shrugged.“It’s hard to fill my days with the kids at school,” she şişli escort said.  “I have a personal trainer. And I play tennis at the club.”Her commitment to fitness was obvious.  She was dressed casually in a black skirt, black tank top, and white cardigan, but it was impossible not to notice her slender, fit body.“So you met someone there?” I asked.  “Was it the personal trainer or tennis instructor?”“Neither,” she said.  “The masseuse. After my workout, I get a massage twice a week.  He’s attractive. And he has strong hands. I started moaning a few times to see how he would respond.  And things happened.”“Don’t be coy, Stela,” I said firmly.  “I’m not your husband. I like dirty talk.  If you want me to fuck you, I want to know you’re not shy.”She was taken aback.  She took a sip of her wine and gathered her nerves.“I was turned on by the idea of seducing him,” she said. “So I started moaning in our sessions.  I didn’t know if he’d act on it. But then he started getting hard, and that made me wet.”“And so you fucked him?”“No,” she said.  “It never went that far.  He fingered me. He talked dirty.  He told me he wanted to fuck me but he couldn’t do it at work.”“Did he make you cum?”“Yes,” she said.  “He made me cum on the massage table.  Anyone could have caught us.”“Do you get wet thinking about it?”“Yes,” she answered.  “We made plans to meet at a hotel, but I got cold feet.  I told my husband everything.”“How did he take it?  Was he angry?”“No,” she said.  “He was more defeated.  We talked about how I was unsatisfied and how things were unlikely to change sexually, but how I still loved him.”“So whose idea was this arrangement?” I asked.“It was his,” she answered.  “He said he wanted me to be happy and he didn’t want me to cheat.  He wanted to know what I’m up to, so maybe being a hotwife is the solution.”I couldn’t help but wonder if her husband had a cuckold fetish.  She said he had no interest in watching or getting the dirty details.  He didn’t want to fuck her after she came home from being with another man.  He did have some rules, though. She wasn’t allowed to meet anyone mecidiyeköy escort more than twice and he wanted her to send him a picture of her being fucked and her tits being groped.  She also had to fuck on her own time and not when she was supposed to be with her family. I assumed that meant he was jacking off to the pictures, but maybe it was just about pretending he was in control.  “Tell me about the men you’ve met so far,” I said.“The first was a woman from the club’s son.  He’s twenty-one. I’d seen him checking me out.”“I’m sure every man checks you out, Stela.  You’re beautiful and have an incredible body.  You must look amazing dressed for tennis.”“Thank you,” she said shyly.  “He was surprised when I asked him if he wanted to get a drink sometime.  We met at a hotel bar and fucked.”“How was it?”“He ate me out like nobody ever has.  I came from that. But the sex wasn’t as good.  He was kind of a jackhammer.”“And you only fucked him the one time?” I asked.“No,” she answered.  “We met a second time.  That time he was in a hurry.  He said he had to go work out. He came really quick and I didn’t get anything out of it.  He’s tried to text me since, but I don’t respond.”“So then you decided to use the app?”“No, there was another,” she said.  “A guy at the country club. He talked a big game about giving me what my husband couldn’t.  And then he couldn’t even get it up when we got a room. That’s when I decided I needed something different.”“Something different?” I asked.“A man with experience.  A man who has done this sort of thing before.”“I bet you get a lot of messages online,” I said.  “Why did you choose me?”“Because they all seem so desperate.  Like they’re just looking to get laid.  And you seem different. You’re calm and confident.  You act like it would be an honor to fuck me and only me and you wouldn’t leave me unsatisfied.”“I definitely won’t leave you unsatisfied,” I said.  “I will leave you wanting more. Much more than two sessions.”“Maybe we can see about that,” she said playfully.  She looked cautiously around the room. “Your confidence is so sexy.  Men are always intimidated by me. You make me wet.”“Prove it,” I said.Stela was thrown off guard.“What do you mean?” she asked.“You know exactly what I mean,” I said.“How?”“You’ve told me plenty of times how intelligent and confident you are.  Are you asking me to spell it out for you?” I asked.Stela bit her lower lip and contemplated her options.  She looked around the cafe. It was almost completely empty.  Our waitress was nowhere to be seen.  She quickly slipped a hand beneath her skirt.  She touched her panties and brought her arm back out.  Two of her fingers were slightly glistening. She put them under my nose. I inhaled the musky scent of her pussy.“Nice,” I said.  “I want to taste.”My tongue darted out to her fingertips.  I took her wrist in my hand and sucked her two fingers into my mouth.  I swirled my tongue around them like I was licking batter off a spoon. A small sigh escaped her lips.“You’re so bold,” she said.  “Who do you think you are?”“I’m the man who is going to satisfy you like no other has.”“I just got chills,” she said.  “Can we go somewhere now?”“I thought you have to pick up your kids?” I asked.“I do.  But I have an hour.”“That’s not long enough.  I told you our first session will take hours.”“This doesn’t have to count as a session,” she told me.  There was a desperation to her voice. “I won’t tell my husband.  This one is off the record.”She was already willing to break the rules.  I knew that was a good sign for the future, but it didn’t mean I was willing to break mine.“The first time we fuck will be in a hotel.  We will take our time. You will leave completely satisfied and won’t be able to stop thinking about it.  I’m not looking for a quickie fuck. I made that clear when we started writing.”“I know,” she said.  “But how do I know you’re not all talk?  Nobody else has backed up their talk.”“If you think I’m all talk then you’re free to walk away right now,” I told her.  “Do I look like a cocky boy who can’t back up his talk?”“No,” she admitted.“Now you’re going to go to the bathroom,” I told her, “And then you’re going to come back and hand me the wet panties you’re wearing.  Then you’re going to go about your day and text me tonight when you know when you can clear several hours for a proper fuck.”

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