I Was Sure My Husband Had Been Hinting That He Was OK With Me Having Sex With Other Men. Fairly Sure.

I was sure my husband had been hinting that he was OK with me having sex with other men. Fairly sure. At least I’d got that impression from the way he talked about not being a jealous man; of how he got a kick out of other guys ogling my tits and arse; how he wanted me to have fun. This idea was floating in my head when I met a friend for drinks one evening. She’d just been through a messy divorce and wanted to talk. So we did for about an hour until her phone rang. “Shit! Babysitter problems. Got to go.” she said and hurried off. I sat sipping my drink for a while then a man approached my table. He was good looking and seven or eight years younger than me. “Your friend abandoned you?” he asked. I smiled and explained the situation and he sat down and we got chatting.

As we sat and talked the thoughts I’d been having about my husband’s “hints” were swirling in my brain and I caught myself fiddling with my wedding ring and feeling an itch developing in my crotch. The barman called last orders and he asked if I wanted another drink. I did. And more. The bar had become crowded and while he was waiting to get the drinks I feverishly texted my husband. “Having drinks with a guy.” Not enough. Needed more. I thought for a minute and added, “Don’t wait up.” I was about to press ‘send’ then added, “Love you x.” Then I waited for what seemed hours but was no more than a few minutes. Was he angry? Was he going to call and demand I come home.? Then the reply came and my heart hammered in my chest: “Have fun! Love you too xxx”.

The guy brought the drinks to our table and we sat drinking them, the conversation getting ever more flirtatious as closing time approached. At last he looked at our empty glasses and said, “Looks like it’s time to go.” “Your place?” I asked. “I thought you were married,” he said. “I am, I replied. “To a very generous man.”

We got a taxi to his flat. As we travelled I felt a giddy excitement, almost that of a teenager on a date, my heart fluttering as we kissed in the back of the cab and our tongues rolled on each other. I felt his hand caressing my inner thigh, moving up to find my crotch. Was I a already wet? Would he feel how aroused I was becoming? When we got to his flat we wasted no time but hurried to his bedroom and rapidly stripped. 

In a blur we were on his bed exploring each other’s bodies; his hands on my arse, my hips, my breasts; mine on his shoulders, his torso, his cock. It was nice and thick and, by now, thoroughly hard in my hand as I feverishly stroked it. I twisted and brought my mouth to it, taking it in and sucking on it, tasting the first jewels of his precum on its tip. It felt so strange to have another man’s cock in my mouth after so many years of marriage but as that thought crossed my mind I moaned as his finger slipped inside me and sent sensations quivering from my pussy through my body.

I lay back on his bed and spread my legs for him. He got between them and I gasped as I felt him penetrate me. It felt so good. Not better than my husband, but different. As he moved inside me, sending delicious ripples of pleasure through my body, thoughts of home and husband began to drift away and I just luxuriated in the movement of our bodies moving with each other and a thought began to form in my mind. I began to experience a sense of liberation; how free I felt having no responsibilities to this man I would probably never see again; that for the first time in many years I was enjoying the simple, but glorious, pleasure of a pure, unconditional, uncomplicated fuck.

As that realisation crystallised in my mind I pushed him off me and rolled him onto his back. Getting astride him I sank down on his shaft and began to ride him; wantonly and wildly fucking him, enjoying every moment, every thrill of his cock inside me. Sensation started to well and grow inside me. I took his hands from my hips and brought them to my tits, gasping as he pinched my nipples between his fingers. Faster and faster I rose and fell on his shaft, then began rocking and grinding, my breath getting ragged. Wave after wave of sensation welled in my body and then, with a mighty roar, crashed inside me and I came on this virtual stranger’s cock.

As my orgasm subsided and he was still hard, I got off him and got onto all fours. Wiggling my arse at him I left him in no doubt of what I wanted. He got behind me and I growled with sexual hunger as I felt him penetrate me again. My second orgasm, when I get one, usually comes fairly soon after the first and, my fingers tightly gripping his headboard, I just rejoiced in the sensations that were rippling through me; of being fucked hard and fast for the sole purpose of fucking; the feeling of his hands on my hips, his crotch crashing against my arse and his cock pounding my married pussy. Again. Again. Again. And then I was there and my body shook with pure primal pleasure and I wailed my orgasm into his sheets. As it began to subside I heard him grunting behind me. “Fuck! Oh fuck!” On a sudden impulse I did something I hadn’t done in a long time. I pulled off him and quickly turned on the bed. His abdomen quivering and his legs beginning to shake I took his cock in my mouth. Tasting my own juices on it I felt it swell and throb then, with a half dozen gasps and pulsations, he unloaded in my mouth. His cum was thick, hot and salty and left a prickle on my tongue when I’d swallowed it. We collapsed on the bed .

There was no conversation. This was a casual fuck. We had nothing in common but the sweat we’d shared. I called a taxi and got dressed . Within an hour I was snuggled in bed with my loving husband nursing a contented feeling of sexual satisfaction.