mature

Nostalgic Recollections From The Golden Age Of Troilism

Sleep never came easily to Pam. The collection of little brown bottles on the bedside table bore witness to that. But tonight no amount of sleeping pills would stop the endless stream of images running through her brain.

Memories of a stranger’s hands running smoothly over her breasts; warm brown eyes that tried to hold her gaze but were drawn irresistibly downwards, to where the tight black curls of her sex were on show. Images of her husband’s expressions as he watched her being mounted, the disbelief in his staring eyes, the seedy, grubby fascination, the way he kept licking his dry lips. Glimpses of the compulsion that had driven him to arrange his own cuckolding.

But Sam, at least, had no trouble sleeping. He was on his side, turned away from her as usual, breathing deeply and slowly. Back there on The Heath, as she took the stranger into her, as she gave her husband his first piece of fresh cream pie, she’d vowed he’d pay for his pleasures, that she’d make him clean up every last drop of the sperm she’d taken for him. But like most of her plans, it hadn’t happened. As soon as he’d come, he’d lost all interest. As usual. And when she’d not taken her shower but come to bed with the stranger’s semen still inside her, he’d shown no interest, even when she tried to blow him, which usually worked. I bet the cunning bastard knew what I’d got planned for him, she thought.

So she’d laid there for hours, listening to the clock, re-living the action, still stunned that she’d actually done it. Wanting to talk it through with him, to understand. Wanting to clean herself up and yet needing to keep something of Mick inside her. It was him that had made the difference, she decided. Tipped the scales, made her decide to go through with it. She hadn’t expected him to be so young, or smell so good, or be so gentle, or make it last so long. Or make her come the way he had.

I bet Ginger wasn’t expecting that, either, she thought, smiling a slow, contented smile and slipping her hand between her legs. Yes, it was still there, though it was a sticky wetness now, not slick and slippery like at first. She sniffed her fingers, trying to recall the smell of him but it had been hours ago and the scent was no longer fresh.

Ugh! Time for a shower. She swung her legs off the bed and walked naked into the bathroom.

Ginger slept on, oblivious.

* * * * * *

The events of Tuesday night provided virtually the sole topic of conversation for the rest of the week. Ginger could be boring at the best of times but he wouldn’t let the subject drop and drove Pam to distraction. Within hours, it had become a total obsession and she listened with mounting concern as one plan replaced another.

They’d advertise in contact mags. They’d join a nudist club. He could take Polaroids. No, better still they’d use some of that money his father had left him and go to Amsterdam. They had clubs there where you could just walk in and fuck whoever you liked. And they ought to get a video camera. And anyway, he’d heard rumours that there were parts of The Heath where couples put on shows while guys watched. Even joined in if you wanted them to. And there wasn’t just Mick either. What about Mark? You two certainly seemed to hit it off last Christmas at the firm’s party. Yes, thinking about it, they shouldn’t stick with just one man. You never know what might happen. You might develop feelings for each other. Yep, we ought to stick to strangers, thinking about it. Safer that way.

Pam felt her spirits sink as one grand scheme after another unfolded. She knew resistance was useless once her husband locked on to a new craze. He would just keep on and on and on, wearing her down until she gave in. The only way out was via the bedside bottles of sleeping pills or through the door. And she’d tried them both before and failed. She was thirty eight and fading fast. She couldn’t support herself on her salary as a part-time medical receptionist. Not in anything like the lifestyle they enjoyed now. A wimp, a failure. She couldn’t even give him the children they’d both wanted so much. And the sex had been going downhill for years.

Until Tuesday night, that is.

On Tuesday night she’d done the unthinkable. Given herself to a man she had never met before, an old school friend of her husband’s. And actually enjoyed it. No, more than that, she’d loved every minute of it. Once she’d realised that she was not being offered like some ritual sacrifice to a dirty old man with bad breath. No, the stranger had been a man she would have fancied across a crowded room. A man she would have relished an affair with.

Not that there’d been many of those, lately.

Not like in the early years, when she first realised that marrying Ginger was the biggest mistake of her life. She’d still had some spirit then. Nothing too risky, of course. Friends and neighbours mainly. Oh and a couple of memorable quickies with a gorgeous lifeguard at that expensive hotel in the South of France. Once even while Ginger was in the same room as them, flat-out dead drunk on the couch where they’d left him, while they used the double bed just a few feet away. Ironic, really. There she’d been, pulling the pillow over her face as she came, so she wouldn’t wake him up and yet all the time he would have enjoyed watching. Especially, she now realised, if she’d let him follow the guy in. Given him - what was that expression he used? - oh yes, a nice slice of cream pie. Read the rest of this entry »

I sighed as I saw Sandra walk down the drive with a big bunch of flowers. I loved and hated it when Sandra visited me. On one hand I loved being in her company, finding her warm, attractive, and dare I say it, sexy. But on the other hand, Sandra’s presence stirred up so many things in me that made me feel very uncomfortable, and a little dirty. There were feelings of lust and desire that I had great difficulty in repressing.

Unconsciously, I looked in the mirror in the hall to sort my appearance before opening the door. Not that it needed sorted. I was a beautiful woman with shoulder length dark hair and a good figure. As Sandra rang the bell, I smoothed down my cream colored skirt and straightened my white blouse. I always found myself anxiously checking my appearance before Sandra visited.

I opened the door to Sandra’s beautiful smiling face. Sandra was a blond in her early twenties and was, as usual, dressed provocatively. She wore a red mini-skirt, black patterned stockings, knee length high-heeled kinky boots and a white T-shirt, through which I could see her erect nipples. As I glanced at Sandra’s curvy figure, I was already beginning to feel nervous.

I invited her in and Sandra gave me the flowers. “These are just to say thank you for what you have done for us.” said Sandra. Sandra’s mother had been ill recently and I had helped them both out, giving them lifts in my car and doing errands. “Oh, thank you. They’re beautiful.” I replied, sincerely. “I was always glad to help.”

I invited Sandra into the lounge. I sat on the large couch while Sandra sat on the chair facing me. As usual Sandra sat with her well shaped legs slightly apart. In this position Sandra panties were clearly visible and I had difficulty stopping myself from staring at them. I hated to admit it, but this really turned me on. I could already feel myself go moist and my nipples go hard. It looked like I would have to resort to the vibrator to relieve myself again when Sandra left.

“But I would also like to thank you personally for your assistance.” said Sandra huskily. This caused some unwelcome fantasies to rush through my imagination. I tried to dismiss them and just smiled.

Sandra stood up and walked slowly over to me, swaying her hips. She stood in front of me, as I sat on the couch. “I know the perfect way to show my appreciation for all you have done.” Said Sandra and lifted up the front of her red skirt directly in front of my face. I stared wide eyed, raising my gaze from her sexy stockings, to her bare thighs, to her tight skimpy panties covering those protruding pussy lips. Sighing in delight. Sandra lightly caressed her pussy through the soft material with her fingers as I looked on whimpering uncontrollably. I bit my lip and frowned with lust as I tried to fight the desire that was rising within me. I didn’t know what to say or do.

But Sandra did. She gently took my hands and placed them on her panties, and rubbed my fingers against her pussy through the soft material. Sandra purred with delight. “I know you want this, Marie.” She said. Then, she lifted my hands up to her pert breasts and placed them over her erect nipples. “And I know you also want these.” Read the rest of this entry »

A couple of weeks had passed since her “sticky” night out without incident. Everything seemed normal, but I couldn’t get that night off of my mind. It tears me apart inside to think of her with other men, but when she dresses in leather, It turns me on way too much to try to stop her. The really dangerous thing is: now SHE KNOWS it. I’m trapped between my jealousy and my uncontrollable leather fetish, and I know she’ll use that to the fullest.

Last week, she called me at work to tell me that she was going out to do some shopping, and that she probably would still be out when I got home. I usually get home by 7 or 8 pm, so I didn’t think anything of it.

When I got home, there was a video tape on the coffee table, and a note from Lisa that just said “PLAY ME”. I put the ways, I rounded a corner and stopped to get dressed. As I put my sport top on, I felt the stickiness of the cum that he’d wiped from my face with my top. I could taste the cum he’d shot into my mouth, and I knew that I’d really shown my stuff today.

Well, work was interesting that afternoon. I had to go to the bathroom twice to masturbate. I held off on drinking or eating anything for a while so that I could savor the taste of his cum. Then, when I got home, I fucked my husband’s brains out. He wondered why I was so horny, and I just told him that it was just one of those days.

So, that’s my story. I swear that it is true. I’ve seen the same guy twice since then, but I haven’t done any repeat performances. The last time I saw him he did tell me that he would be biking with a group of friends next Saturday, and invited me to show my stuff to all of them. He rode his bike alongside me that day and told me how hot I looked when I was fucking myself with his pump. Then he asked if I’d like to do it again as he and his friends jacked off on me. He promised that no one would touch me if I didn’t want them too. I told him that I would think about it, but that he had better have a fatter pump next time!

So, who knows, maybe with a little encouragement from all of you, I’ll do it. Then I’ll write another story to tell you all how it went. So, what do you think? Should I meet them?

My wife Becky, is the most beautiful woman I have ever known. 5′3″ 105 lbs soaking wet. She has an ass I can hold in one hand. We had been married about 5 years and had told each other most of our secret fantasies. When ever I told her that I wanted to share her with another man, she told me that it wasn’t her cup of tea, but when we fucked, she was wet as hell and came like she needed it. She was a dancer before we ever got together and it turned her on to be naked in front of strange men.

When we would go out to clubs, guys would always ask her to dance. I always said OK, have fun. They would grab her ass and it would drive me crazy with jealousy. Although at the same time I would get a rise. Just to piss me off she would grind her pelvis into their leg or run her hands over their body. I think she knew what she was doing to me and liked it.

One night we had rid ourselves of the kids and prepared to go out for the evening. She wore a short, clingy, white dress that showed off her panties when she bent over. Underneath she wore a tiny pair of white panties and no bra. God, she looked hot standing in front of the mirror with just those panties, putting on what little make up she wore and doing her hair. She laid out my clothes for me. She had bought me a thong with lightning bolts on the front and black levis and black and red cowboy shirt. She liked cowboys and wanted to ride a bull. Little did I know that’s just what she wanted to do that night.

We went out to a cowboy club that had a mechanical bull. My wife made a beeline straight towards the bull and was soon in the saddle having the time of her life. She did not care that every guy in the place was watching her, so they could watch her body gyrate with the movements of that bull. Her dress would ride up, showing how high cut her panties were and she was expertly riding that bull for all it was worth. The guy that took the most notice of her was the guy running the machine. He knew how to get the most out of her, then throw her to the ground showing us all her most womanly attributes. He started off slow and kept building up pace until she couldn’t take any more. She responded by hugging him after every ride and he responded by giving her more free rides.

In my jealousy, I started flirting with 2 ladies (Renee and Tawnya) who were telling me that she was acting like a slut. I was better than her and I shouldn’t put up with that. I said “ladies help me show her what she is missing”

About 1:30 am, Becky came and asked me to get a room at the motel next door, since neither of us were in any shape to drive. I asked her if we could have a party with my 2 new friends and she said “only if I can bring my new friend”.

What could I say, my head was swimming with possibilities. Would I get to watch my beautiful wife take a new dick inside her and would I get to fornicate with my new mistresses. I immediately went next door and booked us a room. By 2:00 am I had us all a room and a case of beer and a couple bottles of wine.
Read the rest of this entry »

My husband and I recently hosted a going away party for one of our friends. There were fifty people there, friends of ours and his. Jack was going Australia for his work and would be gone for about three months. As is usual, I couldn’t hold my liquor and was soon feeling pretty drunk. My husband Steve knows how I get when I’ve had too much to drink and he kept on encouraging me to have more.

After the party was beginning to wind down, Jack asked me to go for a walk with him. I agreed and soon we were in the woods strolling along hand in hand. “Beth, I think I’m going to miss you the most while I’m away” he said. “Oh? Why’s that?” I asked. “I’ve been jealous of Steve for a long time. You’re one of the sexiest, most beautiful women I’ve ever seen” he replied. “Could I kiss you good bye?” My mind was working in a haze due to the alcohol, and I agreed. After all, what’s a kiss? I found out his idea of what a kiss is very quickly. He took me in his arms and his lips sought out mine. I felt limp in his arms, he was so commanding. His tongue sought out mine and soon was exploring my mouth. At the same time, his hands were moving down my sides and around to my ass. He began to squeeze my firm ass cheeks and it felt great! But, I had to stop this. I was married after all. I broke the kiss saying “Jack, this isn’t a friendly good bye kiss!” He replied “No, but I’d like something more to remember you by while I’m away. Come on Beth, I want you.” He again kissed me and I readily opened my mouth. His tongue moved around, darting this way and that inside my mouth. I whimpered as his hand brushed my tit and he took that as a go ahead.

We sat on the ground and he continued kissing me. His hands were all over me, feeling, stroking, squeezing. I felt like I was on fire. I knew that this was wrong, yet I had no control over it.

“Please Jack, this isn’t right. I can’t” I stammered, but my protests fell on deaf ears. Soon, he had my tits out and was playing with one nipple as his head dropped to the other. I felt so horny that I couldn’t fight even if I wanted to . I grabbed his head and pulled it hard to my tit as he sucked on it. I felt his hand drop to my thigh and lightly rub the inside of it. As it went higher under my dress, I felt my legs spread as if they had a mind of their own. It felt as though it was taking a lifetime for him to make his way to my cunt. When his hand finally reached my panties, he found them soaked through. He rubbed my clit through the soaked material, and I came. No warning, I just came. My body shuddered as wave after wave of orgasm took me over. I hadn’t cum like that since I was first married. I heard him unzip his pants and knew that soon I’d feel his cock inside of me. I wanted it desperately. I also knew it was wrong, but I had no control over it. My body had betrayed me and I wasn’t about to stop anything else that would happen. Read the rest of this entry »

I CAUGHT MY WIFE CHEATING. It actually started a number
of years ago, but a long period of time passed before I
realized what was happening behind my back. As I think
back, my first inclination as to what was happening
came when my wife started douching 3 and four times a
week, which she had never previously done. I noticed
empty douche bottles in the shower on a regular basis.

One day I came home from work at the regular time and
headed down stairs to put some wood on the fire. As I
passed the den, I noticed the shades pulled down
tightly. I walked into the den and noticed a spot on
the beige suede couch. As I examined the spot, I
noticed it was actually a wet area that was somewhat
sticky. I immediately assumed the worst and a visual
image of my wife lying on the couch having sex with
someone burned in my mind. I gingerly leaned forward
and smelled the damp area. There was no doubt now as
the smell of sex was definitely there. I couldn’t
believe that she might actually be having sex there in
my house while I wasn’t home. I knew at this point that
I would have to develop a plan to confirm my suspicions
or better yet, catch her in the act. What concerned me
a great deal was that I knew my wife was not on any
birth control and I worried that if she was cheating on
me that could be a real issue.

Now I started to carefully keep track of the used
douche bottles she left in the bathroom. Over a period
of two or three weeks, the douche bottles traced a
record of her sexual activities. Every Monday Wednesday
and Friday became a regular pattern. Even a Saturday
afternoon when she supposedly was on a clothes shopping
trip, the empty bottle appeared in the shower after her
return. I’m thinking to myself that this guy whoever he
is, is getting more sex than I am. I decided that it
was time to learn more. Monday morning I got up and got
dressed and headed to work as usual. Driving to the
other side of the block I parked the car and walked
back to the house before she got up from bed. I slipped
into the house and hid inside a downstairs closet until
she awoke. When I heard the shower, I headed upstairs
to the bedroom and stepped inside my bedroom closet. Read the rest of this entry »

We had been seeing each other for a while now, and each
time the sex was getting better. Little discoveries of
pleasure spots each time had led to some very hot
sessions.

This particular day I heard her car pull up and waited
for her to come inside. In the background the TV was
playing a porn movie the sound track betraying the
moans and squeals of pleasure from the various
actresses. As she walked through the door in a glance I
took her in noticing her hard nipples under her
clothing and the slight flush on her cheeks and throat.
I moved towards her and took her in my arms
passionately kissing her lips sliding my tongue into
her mouth, my hand dropping to clutch one of her ass
cheeks in my hand.

I felt her thrust her hips into mine causing my cock to
thicken and lengthen. She continued to grind against me
while sucking my tongue in her mouth; I cup one of her
tits in my hand gently stroking the nipple making it
harden even further.

Her breathing was starting to get a little ragged and I
could feel her body trembling all over.

I broke off the embrace and led her to the couch and
told her to sit down. Once seated, she reached out and
cupped my bulge in her hand, and looked up at me with
pure lust in her eyes. Read the rest of this entry »

I’ve always been hung up on the female posterior. As a young man I’d delight in those moments in department stores, subway stations, or anywhere that had an attractive woman ascending a staircase or escalator, when I could get a nice view of a good pair of buttocks encased in slacks, jeans, or better yet: a skirt.