Do You Believe In Unicorns? Also Where Do You Live?

How my stag possessed me - Part 3

Contd from part 2...

As I watched my husband go out of sight, R said, “for some reason you appear to be known to me from very long”. I said even I feel that way though I am pretty sure this is the first time that we are meeting. He asked me to take a seat at a table on the slightly thinner part of the crowd. Instead of sitting across me, he pulled his chair next to mine. He said, “I feel very familiar to you, would you mind if I feel your thigh?” I kind of screamed out “yesssss” in my mind, but outwardly just smiled and mentioned, “I am sure there will be a time for that”. He smiled knowingly and I felt butterflies in my stomach. He took out his mobile phone and asked me for my number. Something in me prompted me to narrate it effortlessly. He said, “good girl, save mine, will call you tomorrow once your husband reaches office”. I kind of mumbled off, “ok, will await your call”. There was a moment of awkward silence and he asked again, “just brush your leg against mine. The table cloth will prevent you to be seen by anyone”. I was extremely nervous but managed to align my leg with his and brushed against it. It kind of gave me an electric shock to touch him although both our legs were covered under layers of fabric. He kept his legs pressed against mine and while our upper torso, visible to the public, was decently placed, I could feel him bushing his thigh against mine. We saw my husband returning to us and we separated our lower bodies to maintain a decent distance. I have heard this term called animal magnetism. This was the first time in my life when I was experiencing the same. Here I am with a man who I am meeting for the first time and yet every cell on my body screamed ‘possess me’ to him. And surprisingly it wasn’t one sided. He was equally charged up to lay his claim on me. If this isn’t animal magnetism, what is?

Once I reached home that night and was changing my dress to retire for the night, I felt the stretch that was brushed by R a few hours ago. It tingled still. My husband, who has a very strong libido, was in mood to fuck me. I tried reciprocating his advances as much as possible, but eventually after a while I was just lying flat on the bed, spread out in missionary position with my legs flying in the sky in a wide V, while my husband continued to fuck me actively. Once he ejaculated and dismounted from top of me to take rest, the thoughts of R asking me if he could feel my thigh kept buzzing in my ears and I silently kept telling myself, “yes, touch me”. The next morning, like all other mornings, my husband was in mood again and having rested in the night, was full of vigour. I enjoyed while he fucked me missionary style, but the vision of R’s tufts of black hair popping out from under his shirt, kept haunting me and I kept visualizing how densely hairy his chest and belly must be.

My husband left for work in a while...and from the moment he was putting his shoes on, I don’t know, I kind of kept praying, please don’t go today. Somewhere I felt I would be converted to an unfaithful wife once he went to office and my conscience kept praying that he stays at home. The next couple of hours were extremely tense for me. I held the mobile tightly in my hand as if my life depended on it. It was not before two hours that my mobile rang and I saw R’s number flash on the screen. There it was, the call that I had been waiting for since last evening, and now that the phone flashes his name, I was feeling terrified answering it. After what appeared to me like eternity while the phone rang, I mustered sufficient courage to accept the call. “What took you this long to answer the call?” he asked. I mumbled something about I was in the other room and took me time to find my phone. “I missed you last night. ‘A’ is one lucky bastard. How did he land a wife like you”? he asked. ‘A’ is my husband’s name’s initial letter and for the sake of privacy I will refer to him when required as A.

To be continued...

First off your page is amazing! I read a fair few of these and your writing and sensual erotic tone hits the spot every time! I find myself thinking of you and your adevntures often in my day! Is there anything I could send you back to try and rebalance all the sexual fun you have given me?

I am thankful to you for the kind compliments. That you mentioned them is more than enough for me.

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...

In case there is even the slightest doubt as to who owns them, this will straighten it out.

Your blog is amazing!! Do your stag’s wife know about your relationship? How many kids do you have?

Thank you for the kind compliment.

My stag isn't married.

Could there be a better selection of words? or expression?

How did the actual conceiving of your child with your second husband take place knowing that your husband is generally out of the country. 😵

I believe this is answered in my previous post to your question!

I am on here just for enjoying some nude, but when I started to follow u, I am a hardcore fan of u. I am not saying about your posts, about ur language the flow of words really it is awesome.

Well, what could I say? I am honoured by such a compliment. Thank you.

And yeah please also let me know the meaning of mini death please.

The mini death that I mentioned on my profile, if you want to understand, please google La Petite Mort.

How my stag possessed me - Part 4

Contd from Part 3...

I smiled over the phone and said, “good-boys deserve good fucks”. “Yeah, and good-fucks deserve a good side-fuck, and that’s where i come to their rescue” he said. “So that tells me you are experienced in being a good side-fuck. How many conquests before me?” I asked. For a moment he seemed to be embarrassed to answer such a direct question. He then said, “Did you feel even for a minute yesterday that I was even trying to go for a conquest”? I answered, “well, not really, I think I felt automatically drawn to you”. “Exactly, look I’ll be honest, you aren’t the first ‘wife’ i have undressed with, and probably you won’t be my last either, but it’s true I have never felt this strong a need to own a wife like I am feeling for you right now. Like you said, I feel an a natural instinct to mate with you, to have my seeds inside you and probably you also felt that” he said. I admitted that it was indeed the case. He felt that probably he had been a too much extra direct and to put me at ease started talking to me on general topics of since when married, bf-s before marriage etc.  I guess we talked for close to an hour over the phone that day. He hung up with a promise to call me the next day.

 Since then we stared having our calls daily after my husband will leave for office. Over a period of time our discussions on a daily basis migrated from general topics to sexual preferences, sharing previous experiences of each other, what we liked, what we didn’t etc. He started asking me out for dates. I knew I wanted to go with him, but I still had to fight the biggest enemy whose presence was unknown here-before, my conscience. It isn’t the first time that I am asked out by a man, not the first time that I will be undressed by a man who I have just met, but what made the difference was that all my previous experiences were when I was still unmarried. Now I am married and it would put the label of a cheater on me if I indulged with a man other than my husband. I was yet to learn the principle of separating pleasure for my body from pleasure to my heart. I realized it won’t be easy. It’s one thing to feel attracted to a man and to know he is equally, if not more, willing to reciprocate the need for sex, but quite another when it came to execute the idea. I found it extremely difficult to reconcile myself, and whenever R would approach with a ‘plan’ to make it happen, I would chicken out making some excuse about being busy etc. Pretty soon, our calls continued in the evening or in the nights when my husband would be working late in office and R would tell me to help him masturbate while he talked to me. He would ask me to feel inside my panties to check how wet I am, and I would be surprised to see that my panties have been soaked talking to him. Almost a month had passed and we would have talked on almost all weekdays. He kept planning, “meet me at the hotel”, and I would respond, “no, I could be seen there by others”; or he would say, “come over to my house, I stay alone”, and I would say, “R, I am extremely scared to go to anyone’s house, I am a married woman and our society may not take it kindly and start wagging their gossip tongues”; he would suggest, “let me know when i can come over to your house”, and I would respond, “no no, not here, what if A returns all of a sudden and finds you fucking me”...i think you got the drift. In short, I inevitably came up with an excuse to not make it happen because although i really wanted to have sex with R, but my conscience held me back even tighter. I could sense that this was upsetting R also and he was getting increasingly desperate. And now I felt not only frustrated at not being able to get myself fucked by R because with every passing day my desire to get myself done by him increased, and now I was feeling guilty also that i was denying a man, R, his right to enjoy a woman, me.

To be continued...