My wife (ashley) and I (josh) got married at a very young age. We were both only 23 years old when we got married. We met when I had just recently graduated from university. She was already working as a hairstylist.
This happened early 70’s when I was 16 .
As I said before, after my son was born, Vanessas sexual appetite changed, where as before we did the usual sexy things, sex outdoors, and dressing up. The there was the role play, MY WIFE THE CALL GIRL. But this was different, and it was unexpected. read on …
First off this was just a fantasy until now. I guess I should begin with a little history first. I was 18 years old 63 about 205 lbs with a thick 7 inch cock.I have chosen a Military career and consider myself to be a lifer. I came from a poor background and have worked hard from the age of twelve. When I turned 19 I married the most beautiful woman in the world. She was a petite little thing of about 52 blonde hair and deep green mesmerizing eyes. She had a perky set of grapefruit sized tits and a hard little bubble butt. I know all the stories start out like that.
When it comes to sex, Ive always perceived myself as
Kathy was really pleased the way the party was going. It was her
Even though Beth and I had divorced several years
Everyone has heard or read something about the sex clubs. Almost every city in the United States — and possibly abroad — has its intimate club where couples get together and trade mates. It is common to find something about such couples in almost any daily newspaper, or you can buy a good book on the subject at almost any news dealer.
This is a long story. I considered publishing it in parts but decided to go ahead and submit it all at once. It is a story of a man and woman whose marriage has become dull and mundane. The husband talks the wife into a game that changes their lives. He had always harbored a secret desire to see her with other men. In the end, he gets that and more. You should pass this story by if you dont like long stories, or stories about slut wives. However, if enough people like this story, I may do a second part. Gary
How did I get here I wondered to myself as I stood there in the aisle of the theater looking at my wife.
My name is Rose. I am a slut wife and a flight
My story starts at the beginning of last summer, when my husband Simon and I moved to a new town in Southern England, along with our two young sons, and into a newly built house on a brand new housing development.
Bob and David had been friends since they were jerking-off to Spice Girls and Alanis Morissette album covers back in the day (Meanwhile, I was rubbing myself cross-eyed over visions of Bob and David jerking-off to Alanis). When it came time to do more than masturbate, I found it impossible to choose one, so I literally flipped a coin and started spreadin’ ‘em for Bob. Dave was typically great about it. He would go for a long walks to nowhere while his two best buds boned in the back of his car. Wow, what a patient and lovely person he was (some of the stains never came off those leather seats). We also boned in his room when his parents were away. The day we got married, Bob boned me in the Narthex while Dave distracted the priest with a string of questions about the 7th Ecumenical Council. Of course he was our best man. As I looked over at him, I wondered whether he was the “best man” period. Well, too late to worry about that now. Besides, at that precise moment, I could feel blotches of Bob’s spunk dripping out of my quim, down the inside of my leg and onto the altar floor. I’m not Catholic myself, so I’m not sure whether they have a commandment against that.
This is a true story of what happened to us about three
The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. So wrote American poet and essayist Henry David Thoreau in the Nineteenth Century. This statement appears to be just as true today as it was then. Perhaps it is even more valid today, considering the pressures and frequent monotony of modem society.
Joanne sat at her desk thinking about the fun, sex filed weekend she had just enjoyed. Her boyfriend of three years, Paul had convinced her to experiment with a third person in their already exciting sex life. She had never been with another woman before and had resisted Pauls suggestions for months. Paul was very attractive at six feet tall and two hundred and twenty pounds without an ounce of fat on his strong muscular body. Joanne had always marveled that he looked more like a construction worker than a lawyer.
When my wife Jane asked if I would be a volunteer
Scott has been in love with Tabitha, the single mother next door, almost since the first day he moved in. The problem is that Tabitha is in love with someone else a married man who has all the right excuses for why hes still with his wife. And then one snowy Christmas Eve…
I would like to begin this story by telling you a little about my wife and I. I believe people hear or read stories similar to this and think that we are some type of outlier or different sort. In reality we are normal people and no one would expect that we have such fantastic sexual experiences. We are just like any other husband and wife living in suburbia. We have three kids, a dog, and even attend church on most Sundays. I work in Ophthalmology and my wife is a science teacher. I think you get the picture. For the most part we live “normal” lives.
My name is Jeremy. I’m 25 years old, and I’ve just returned from a three-month trip to Great Britain. I finished university with a cultural anthropology/linguistics degree and after two years of looking for a job relevant to my training (who the hell hires cultural anthropologists, anyway?), I decided to see the world while I still had the time.
Reverend James Walker had been the minister in the rural community of Woods Fork for the past six years, and both he and his wife, Abby, were highly thought of by the congregation. Standing on the church steps talking to some of his church members, one Sunday after the services were over, he was finding it very difficult to concentrate on the conversation.
My thirty-five-year-old wife complained that it was much harder for her to loose the weight and get her figure back. I just liked her large milk filled breasts.
While after the changes wrought by nine eleven, I had grown to hate some airports, I loved to fly, and that was one of the best perks of the somewhat unconventional way I supported myself. I had always had trouble holding down a conventional job, probably a combination of stubbornness and being a smart ass. Whatever the reason, over the years I had found I could create a decent lifestyle for myself without actually holding down a job. Perhaps it was a personality disorder, but I would gladly work seventy or eighty hours per week for myself just to keep from having to work forty hours per week for someone else. So one January morning as I sat in the boarding lounge of United Airlines at LaGuardia, I reflected back on the path that had brought me to this point.
My wife Shere and I had just recently moved from the city to a rural area, out in the country you might say. We had grown tired of the noise, smog, and fast pace that come with living in the center of things. Our new home was quite a long way from any neighbors, set back against reforested mountains with a grassy plain in front. The days were hot, the evenings cool, and the sunsets gorgeous.