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Lexi the Hotwife

December 2, 2016

Most of my blog posts are aimed at helping people enter this magical relationship enriching Alternative Marriage Lifestyle.  I do this as my way of paying it forward because when my husband and I were looking for real truthful information on how this Lifestyle works on a day to day basis for an average couple, we got lost in the caption writers fantasies about how they wished it worked.

Just so you know, I’m not saying it doesn’t work that way for some couples, but then most experienced Hotwives don’t need any advice from me about how to go about it.  As for me I don’t get off on having men cum all over my face, or being spit roasted.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to get up on my soapbox again.  I’m going in a different direction today.  As part of the coaching process, once a couple has made the decision to go forward with the Hotwife Lifestyle, and the wife is going to open up her end of the marriage to date other men, how does she do that?

I have sex with men I meet to fulfill a fantasy that my husband has of sharing me with other men for the benefit of making our own relationship better and stronger by sharing all the details with him.  Do I enjoy having a personal sex life of my own that is independent of my marriage to Michael?  You bet your ass!

When a sexy guy is flirting with me it is a huge turn on knowing I can take it as far as I want because it’s what my husband wants me to do.  I can’t imagine any woman who truly understands the benefits of this Lifestyle who wouldn’t want to live it every day of her life!

So how do I do it? Not every woman can meet men the way I do.  Most of the women I work with have a unique set of circumstances and I help them on an individual basis but today I am going to explain how I do it.

Michael and I have a guide line that we call my Hotwife Rules of Engagement.  It’s designed to keep me safe and it addresses something that I agreed to early on.  Michael is/was not comfortable with me dating one guy over and over as if I was his girlfriend.  His thinking is from a fear that I might accidentally bond emotionally with a “boyfriend” type of relationship.

Personally I was not as worried about that as Michael, but being a Hotwife is no different than any other aspect of marriage that requires give and take to make it work, so that is our agreement.

I preach that that a Hotwife needs to have total autonomy over the dating process so that she stays inside her comfort zone without input from her husband about who she can date.

I get asked all the time how I do it.  How do I meet men?  What do I do when I meet Mr. Tonight?  Where do we go?  What do I say?

I am an urban dweller. I live in a high rise condo in downtown. Within a five minute drive there several upscale hotels.  Some have lounges and some have lobby bars.  We also belong to a supper club that is attached by a sky bridge to one of the hotels.

A woman that is out of practice dating and or flirting who is entering this Lifestyle with no recent practical experience doesn’t realize how simple it is to meet men and let herself get picked up.  All she needs is the right attitude, an outgoing engaging smile, a willingness to make eye contact, and to act like she wants to be there.  The men do all the heavy lifting.

If you meet a guy with whom you feel sexual chemistry, let’s call him Mr. Tonight, the only thing you have to do is not send him a negative aura, and don’t say no.  It’s as simple as that.

When I am out at night to meet someone I typically go out alone.  I may go to the Club and sit at the bar and have a drink.  The standard approach line is “Are you waiting for your husband?”  Or “Is anyone sitting here?”, or any number of simple test questions to gauge my interest. Sometimes they simply sit down and ask if they can buy me a drink.

If I am not interested I do not respond positively and they usually take the hint and move on.  I wear an ankle bracelet.  I wear it whenever I am not working.  I have said many times that it has been my experience that wearing an ankle bracelet serves no useful purpose in identifying me by my status as a Hotwife.  I wear it because occasionally it’s a conversation point, and it makes me feel good about my status as a Hotwife, but having said that, the subject almost never comes up. Men are focused on my wedding rings, not my ankle bracelet!

This is what I think about that.  If I am sitting in a bar without my husband, and I’m wearing my wedding rings, and I am letting a man flirt with me, and I am sending him positive vibes, he doesn’t care if I am a hotwife out hunting, or a bored wife looking for a little excitement outside of her own bedroom.

The only thing he cares about is that he and I are sharing the same space at the same time and he has a shot at soiling a married woman.  It is a fact based on my experience that married men prefer playing with married women.

It is also a fact based on my experience that younger single men prefer to play with older married women. Please feel free to disagree with me if you wish, but keep in mind I said I was referring to my own experiences.

As a side note, my girlfriend Jill, who is divorced, still wears her wedding rings when she goes out for the very same reason but takes it a step further by using them to hide behind if she gets approached by a toad.

The men I target when I am out hunting are upscale professional men that are typically traveling to Tampa on business, which is why I choose the downtown upscale hotel bars.

So let’s say an interesting guy has approached me and he likes what he sees and I like what I see. “Are you waiting for your husband?” He might ask.  If I want him to engage me I make it clear my husband is not in my picture that night.

“No my husband is in Dallas tonight.”  Or, “I’m not really sure where he is, I’m not waiting for anyone, I just decided to stop by for a drink.”

“May I join you?”  He will ask.  I pick my purse up off the empty seat.

If I am only lukewarm I might say something noncommittal like, “I’m just here having a drink.”  That doesn’t tell him anything at all but leaves it open, but in this particular situation I wanted him to join me.

When a married guy meets a married woman in that situation they don’t want to know too much too soon. They ask me chatty questions that are not intrusive like “are you from here?” Or, are you in Tampa on business?”

This gives me a chance to steer the conversation based on how much information/bullshit I share. If I let him start buying me drinks, things will slowly escalate.  Men like to get into my personal space.  If I am sending positive signals they like to get physically closer to me.

If I start talking about being a pissed off wife, men can relate to that and they like to touch me. They pat my hand or my arm or find a few strands of hair to put back in place.  This is a test to see how tolerant I am of physical contact, and depending on the situation and the guy, and the alcohol, I can be pretty tolerant, unless I am groped, which is always a deal killer but very rarely happens in upscale bars.

My knees are also a place that men like to pat and or eventually rest the palm of their hand on. I wonder if that is like a dog marking his territory.  Anyway, if I’m into it I don’t mind unless his hand drifts too far upward.

Like I said, men like to test my tolerance so sometimes it’s just a question of placing my hand over his in a blocking motion.  Men usually take that hint, but if it’s late and I am ready to go to his room I might say something like, “If you are going to keep doing that we need to go someplace else.”

I used that line on a very young man I met in a hotel lounge last January that I wrote about in my blog. I had been telling my bloggers that my success rate was in the 90% range because I knew how to do it now.

When Michael and I had been playing The Chili’s Game my success rate was pitiful, because I didn’t know what I was doing.

My husband called me out on it and wanted me to prove it, so I told him to meet me downtown at 8:30 where Jill worked giving me a 30 minute head start.  I was already practically hooked up by the time he sat down in the lounge.  He got an eyeful.

The young gym rat in town on business was rubbing my leg and I covered his hand and told him he was being very naughty.  He told me that he knew I liked it though and then he kissed me.  I wasn’t expecting it, but it played right into what I was trying to show my husband.

I told him if he was going to keep doing that to me we needed to go somewhere else.  He said, “OK Let’s go up to my room.  Michael watched me leave the bar and get on the elevator with him.

That is not the norm but it does happen that way sometimes.  A more typical close happens when the club closes, and he says “Where can we go now?” He knows where he wants me to go, but is hoping I will give him a hint.  Sometimes I do.  I might say, “Where are you staying?”  He says “I am staying here in the hotel”, or “I am staying across the street in the hotel.”

If I am ready to close the deal all I have to say is, “Do you have one of those little honor bar things in your room?”

It doesn’t matter whether they do or they don’t because they are going to say they do and I am going to go with them to their room.  I’m not going up there for a drink.  I am going up there to have sex with him. We both understand that.  It’s called “Communication”.

My stag would do this to me, but not while standng, only after I am laid flat on the bed.

It was my first time too when two men actively and simultaneously paricipated in fucking me. The situation was different though.

Back then, my bf and I were in college and in an even more conservative envronment than now, privacy was a big problem for consenting-but-unmarried couples (specially the student class) who wanted to shed clothes and enjoy sex with each other. Neither I had privacy at my house, nor did he. What saved us though is a rather rich and considerate friend of his who used to stay alone in his apartment. My bf obtained his permission (and his keys) to bring his gf (ie me) to fuck her in his apartment.

His friend agreed and pretty soon it was a regular haunt for us when my bf would bring me with him to his house, after our college, or at times bunking college too, and take advantage of his friend being away on work, and well, long story short, fuck me silly.

As they say, familiarity breeds contempt, it became our second nature for me to be escorted to his friend’s house to get fucked. One of those days during the daytime my bf had brought me over to his friend’s house, which was empty. Without wasting any time he took me to the friend’s guest-room, where he had the license to have sex. We undressed and he mounted me missionary style. I loved sex with him guess pretty soon, he had my legs flying up in the sky in a rather wide V while he placed himself between them and was thrusting away like crazy. It was at one of those fleeting glances when suddenly I realized his friend had returned home unscheduled and since we didnt bother to lock the guest room door and his friend was watching my bf fucking me.

I was extremely embarrassed but my bf was pretty cool. He went over, talked to his friend, closed the door and returned to finish fucking me. We got dressed and he had me introduced to his friend later.

Nothing else happened that day. It was later that my bf told me that his friend has sought my permission to have sex with me. I was initially very embarrassed at the idea of being made nude in front of two men at the same time and he had to do a lot of convincing to get my agreement eventually.

My frst threeesome was when I was spitroasted by my bf and his friends before they started taking turns on fucking me individually. Once the initial ice-breaking was over, it was an ocassional threesome sex between us and my bf continued sex with me at his house for the rest of the period that we remained a couple.

Damn lady, you should write erotica! Autobiographical or not. If you want to stay anonymous, well, Belle de Jour did it before.

Nyaah, I think the only reason people read my posts are because of the photos that I reblog alongwith. And yeah, writing is serious stuff. What I do is thought-dumping of my experiences.

Btw, I actually had to Google to find out about BdJ.

Hey, good to see you see post again. Long time :) hope all is well with you. Is there a way I can inbox you, tried a couple times but messages didn't go through.

Thank you for the compliment.

When are you writing next part of Garaik and I? Please make it soon.

I did today.

Hell Explained By A Chemistry Student

For me it's more when I need to travel with my boss being his secretary, to business trips.

Thanks for considering my request, super excited and hugely turned on already ;) waiting for the rest of the story...

I am writing this for you. Enjoy.

How my stag possessed me - Part 2

Continued from my previous post...

It was probably around the second year of my marriage, and I hadn’t strayed one bit. Actually my husband was more than I could handle and he is very active to pleasure me physically. My husband informed me that the annual dinner in his office was convened. Spouses were allowed. The year before this, we had both been travelling and so we couldn’t attend. We both were eager to be there, to get to meet other people to socialize with and for him, to kind of show me off as well. Although India is currently very widely influenced by the western dressing and in fact all the western dresses are very popular here as well, personally, I was always since attaining my youth have dressed myself in saree, a traditional Indian dress. For those in the west who are reading this, you may please Google for Saree. I have during my college had worn westerns like jeans and skirts and shirts and trousers, but have always felt that I look my best in a saree and could carry myself in it.  So, for this evening-party I dressed myself in a brown saree with deep-red sleeveless blouse and matching lingerie. It was a party, so a slightly plunged neckline and a more-than-normal low-cut on the back on my blouse was not inappropriate. Since I am of medium complexion, umm, maybe slightly on the duskier side, the darker shades look better on me.

It was organized in one of the large banquet halls, overlooking a sprawling green lawn, in a five star hotel. Some guests had already arrived that he got me introduced to. They were really nice people. I won’t deny that it felt good when some of them complimented me on my dress and I could see I was getting my share of male attention. Having said that, it would be wrong to not point out at this stage, that the male attention that I referred to above was the very decent kind where men appreciated me for how I looked but all within the limits of social decency. There were drinks that were served and both I and my husband indulged. A jovial mood prevailed over the party.

It was quite late in the evening by that time when my husband said that he would like me to meet one of his long time colleagues who was till now posted abroad and have very recently returned to India. Rumours were that my husband could be considered next to fill up that position abroad. Both were at the same rank within the organization. His colleague was in the lawn and we were in the hall. So my husband showed me around to meet him. Now, I am positive that all of you have heard the phrase ‘sparks flying’, as did I. But it was the first time when I was escorted to him and I got to look at his eyes and he shook my hand, that I literally felt hit by a thunderbolt. He was nothing extraordinary to look at. Neither handsome, nor bad, couple of inches taller to me (I am 5’8” myself, which is considered tall for Indian women), very well dressed in a black suit, possessed what looked like through the layers of his suit, a really swollen and large belly, dark-skinned, clean shaven. Even his shirt failed to trap tufts of dense black hair on his chest which popped out at the top. As he shook my hand and made small talk while my husband introduced me, I could feel my heart would burst out from the rib cage. I could hear not a word that he said because of the sound of my own heartbeat that deafened me. I felt people around me could also probably hear it from how they sounded to me. I maintained my polite smile while he continued to hold and shake my hand while introducing himself. It went to a point when I finally managed to blurt out, “I am sorry but I really didn’t catch your name in the loud music. Could you please tell me again?” His name, for the purpose of this public document shall be R, which is the first letter of the name. We kept talking and in a while another colleague of my husband came up to inform that the boss wanted to speak to my husband. I was standing there in the lawn with R. There were quite a lot of other people who were also present around us, but in my mind I felt myself to be completely isolated with just R in that lawn.

To be continued...