The Renaissance Man... part two of my 8th confession

He took the initiative and pulled me close for a kiss…

I love to kiss, and The Renaissance Man’s kisses were wonderful. Our lips were locked as we sat in my car for several minutes. I enjoyed the feel of his hands touching my hair, my neck and my chest while our lips connected and our tongues mingled. My fingers caressed his cheek and the nape of his neck as things heated up between us. I gently turned my head to catch my breath momentarily, affording The Renaissance Man a chance to kiss a trail down my neck. His hand slid down to my thigh, and then his fingers traveled briefly to the apex between my legs, causing a flutter of excitement within my stomach. I, too let my hand explore his lap, and found a hard bulge within his jeans.

Obviously the attraction was mutual and the chemistry was there, so I whispered into his ear, “Is your office private, and available?” He paused for a second, making me wonder if I had been too forward. He stammered for a second and then said that yes, his office was available.

We discussed the logistics about travel and destination quickly, and then I followed him eight miles from the restaurant to his office.

Along the way I called DH to update him. We had only exchanged two text messages during the date, so up until now he only knew that The Renaissance Man had in fact shown up and that things seemed to be going well. I told DH that we had left the bar and that I was following The Renaissance Man’s car to his office. He asked for a few more details, and then he made a special request.

“Call and let me listen if you can.”
“I’ll try. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”

I parked next to The Renaissance Man at his place of business in the dark of the night…


The Renaissance Man... part one of my 8th confession - (and the continuation of Craigslist: 0, Ashley Madison: 1)

I like the thrill of the chase. That is probably what attracted me to the idea of hotwifing the most. Back in my younger, single days, I did not do much barhopping or hooking-up. I was the quiet one, the good friend who looked out for my girlfriends, and made sure we got home safely. I was the modest sidekick, too shy to dance seductively with strangers or bare much skin. I lacked the confidence to attract the attention of hormonally charged 20-something guys. But, as a hotwife, I have permission from DH to do the things I was too timid to do decades ago. I get to experience the thrill of the chase…

* * * * * * * * * * *

When looking for a potential lover on Ashley Madison, the chase begins at a keyboard, rather than at a dimly lit bar over drinks. Perhaps that is why I had been unsuccessful on AM up until now. I missed the thrill of the chase too much. Yet, the messages on Ashley Madison from The Renaissance Man intrigued me enough to agree to a face-to-face meeting to see if there would be any chemistry between us. We made plans to enjoy a glass of wine and chat at a nearby restaurant.

So, Saturday afternoon I primped and preened, then headed out the door feeling a little nervous, yet curious. Would I recognize him? Would he find me attractive? Would I be attracted to him, and would we have any chemistry?

My first concern was easily put to rest, as I was able to find and recognize The Renaissance Man seated at the bar, one of just a few patrons because it was early in the evening. My second concern faded because The Renaissance Man did not recoil at the sight of me. Was I his type? That I could not say yet, but at least he did not seem repelled by my appearance. And what about my third concern? Well, his AM profile was honest (we both admitted to having a few extra pounds). He was tall and had dark hair with strands that had faded into a distinguished shade of grey. I would summarize his appearance as better than average with a rough edge, punctuated by a neatly trimmed goatee. A verdict on the chemistry factor would have to wait, but it seemed as if the meeting would not be a loss based on these first impressions.

I sat next to him at the deep cherry wood bar and we exchanged introductions. Using our AM names was out of the question in public. He had already ordered a martini, and politely offered me a red wine from a list provided by the bartender. The conversation was a little slow, and I admitted my anxious feelings as my wine was served. I was relieved to have something to calm my nerves. I listened with intent as he talked about his penchant for history (The Renaissance Period) the 2 diverse careers he has had, and his European travels. The conversation then turned to why and how we found AM. He was looking for a friend with benefits to fill a void. He loves his spouse and adores his family, but his needs are not being fulfilled on the home front. (His story sounded so similar to those I have read on other blogs!) I learned that this was his first AM date, and his first venture into infidelity. I admitted to having waded into the infidelity waters before. I had hinted in one of my messages that I had a unique marital arrangement. The Renaissance Man was curious, but I was not quite ready to explain my hotwife lifestyle just yet. Small talk continued as we finished our drinks. He ordered a bottle of wine to enjoy with some food. (This kind of thoughtfulness was something I was not used to, and it really felt like a date!) I decided that it was a good time to spill the beans, and explained my situation. He was curious, and even jokingly asked if DH was watching from afar! He asked questions and I provided a little history. I am always worried that our situation will sound freakish to strangers, and turn men off. My fears were unfounded, as he seemed more intrigued as I confessed a few of my secrets. In fact, he commented that it must be nice to have the freedom to 'play' and still have a loving husband to go home to. He quickly and easily surmised that my dates were foreplay for my romance at home. I felt weird talking about it aloud, rather than writing for you, dear fans. Anyway, the date progressed well.

We talked.

We ate.

We drank.

It seemed as if there was at least the foundation for a friendship, if not romantic chemistry. We were both cautious about running into acquaintances, so there were only slight, accidental touches, primarily on my part. I realized that an attraction was beginning to build as I privately entertained the thought of discreetly sliding my hand along his thigh. I quickly dismissed the thought due to the risk factor involved for him. Our time spent talking provided the friendly and intelligent connection we were both hoping for.

When the food was gone and the bottle of wine was empty, I acknowledged his need to get home sooner rather than later. My evening was wide open, but his alibi would not excuse his absence for too much longer. I had no idea if he was feeling any attraction, but I asked if he’d walk me to my car as we gathered our coats. When we arrived at my car, I took a chance and asked if he wanted to sit inside and talk a little longer. He accepted my invitation, which indicated the chance of a good night kiss. Once inside, I fumbled with the volume on the stereo that had been blaring on my way to our rendezvous, and he asked “So where do we go from here?” I honestly and coyly said that I wasn’t sure, since I had no idea if he was feeling an attraction or not.
He took the initiative and drew me close for a kiss…


Craigslist vs: Ashley Madison... the beginning

To say that my hotwifing activities have been curbed in recent months would be an understatement. As loyal readers know, despite a few attempts on my part, I have not had a confession to share since meeting The Pilot. Family, work, and mundane daily chores and routines come first, but are not nearly as exciting as pursuing new lovers.

Last spring I responded to an ad on craigslist, but was unable to meet the man who had traveled to my town on business. I returned to craigslist last month and replied to another ad placed by a traveler, but nothing ever came of that attempt, either.

I have expressed my AM frustrations before, but decided to make my profile public again after months of keeping it hidden. Oh sure, I had logged on to check out the male profiles from time to time, and even emailed one WITH a passkey to my private photo, but he never replied. My ego was bruised. Not only was I unable to find a man in a bar, but now I was facing cyber-rejection. Now my self-esteem was really low!

So, I was pleasantly surprised to find a well-written priority message in my AM mailbox about 2 weeks ago. Of course the bright yellow subject line caught my attention, but more importantly, the message was clever, witty, and grammatically correct (yes, I am a grammar nut)! He made good use of information he learned about me from my profile, including my predilection for red wines, to write an interesting introduction about himself. I detected hint of charm mingled with sarcasm - a combination that always appeals to me. I waited a few days to reply, because trying to compose a witty and flirtatious reply amid holiday hustle and bustle was hard. What followed was a series of more than a dozen crafty replies and one brief chat on AM. The result? A date planned for last night…


Happy 1 year bloggiversary to me!

It was one year ago today that I introduced myself as a hotwife to this blogosphere, and posted my first confession. I never imagined that people other than DH would want to read my confessions. This all started out as an online diary for DH to read and enjoy, and now I have had over 110,000 visitors to my suburbia!

How am I going to celebrate?

With a new confession, of course! December seems to be a good month for me. I met The Seducer 5 years ago this month, and The Italian a year ago this week. I am eagerly drafting the newest confession to mark the occasion, so please stop by my suburbia again later for an update!


In the predawn hour... a confession from my bedroom

I heard his alarm go off, but I was already awake. I had been lying awake beside him with naughty thoughts running through my mind. He started to get out of bed, but I pulled him back to the comfort of the pillows and my arms. It was risky to play on a work day; the kids would be awake soon and we both needed to get ready for work. My need to have him was stronger. I nestled next to him a rested my head on his chest while my fingers found their way beneath the covers to his lap. I used my finger tips to tease his thighs and balls. When I sensed that he was aching for my touch, I slid my hand into his boxers, where I teased and touched his cock. I wanted him in my mouth, so I could pleasure him to the fullest. He came, and we were both happy.

DH got out of bed to start the shower. I remained under the covers. Now it was my turn. I needed to cum, too. My finger deftly found my swollen clit and began to bring pleasure to my wet and hot pussy. When DH saw what I was doing, he came back to the bed and whispered dirty thoughts into my ear. I knew that we would both be late, so I told him that he did not have to stay by my side. Instead of leaving to get in the shower, he continued to talk dirty to me, asking me if I wanted to have one of my online suitors fuck me. Thoughts of this other man flooded my mind, and pushed me over the edge.

Ahh, orgasm...


Mr. Garcia... a confession from my college days

So, some of my loyal readers have expressed an interest in my sexual escapes from the past, and who am I to disappoint them, especially since I have no new confessions to post. So, this one goes out to all the guys and gals who check my suburbia regularly in hopes of finding a new confession…

Back in my college days, I was working as a bank teller while I finished my post-graduate courses. I had sadly moved back into my parents’ house, and didn’t have much of a social life as a result. Not only had many of my friends gone on to their first real jobs, but I was practically broke, and DH (then DBF: darling boyfriend) and I had broken up. Not a winning combination to say the least.

As a new bank teller, I was always concerned about two things: 1-getting fired for screwing up someone’s account and 2- bank robbers. Thankfully, the branch I worked at was never the target of a robbery while I was employed there! Fear number one, however, was forefront in my mind the first few weeks on the job. I had passed teller school with flying colors, but I can still clearly remember the first time I did a real transaction with real money as my manager watched over my shoulder. As I finished the transaction, she closed my window and said, “Relax, you did fine, but you did forget to greet or thank the customer by name.” Using the customer’s name was the latest customer service gimmick at the time, and oh how I dreaded it! Last names can be tricky to pronounce, especially working in an ethnically diverse neighborhood! I was always grateful for the Mrs. Blacks and Mr. Smiths that came to my window!

Enter Mr. Garcia:
Mr. Garcia came to my window with an unusual and slightly complicated and time-consuming business transaction one winter day. I summoned my manager over for assistance, and was so glad to be able to pronounce his name as he gathered his paperwork and I thanked him.
“Thanks for your patience, Mr. Garcia”, I said, making sure my manager heard.
“Please don’t call me Mr. Garcia, call me Joe.”
“See you next week, Mr. Garcia,” my manager said as she walked away.
“I’ll see you next week, and you had better call me Joe,” he said to me with a wink.
From then on, I always called him Joe, and he always tried to come to my window. For a while I assumed it was because I now knew how to process his business transactions, but I was wrong. He came to my window because he was interested in me!

Mr. Garcia was 18 years my senior, compared to my tender age of 22. He was tall with a full head of dark, thick hair, quite handsome and charismatic. I was taken by surprise when he asked me out to lunch one day. I blushed and accepted his invitation. (My manager half joking-half seriously checked his account records for vital information in the event I did not come back after lunch.) He came back an hour later just in time for my lunch break. Mr. Garcia took me to a nearby Chinese place where we ate and chatted. I was uncomfortable and self conscious most of the time. I had never been out with an older man before! My dating history was rather short and innocent as a late bloomer. Here was this older, and presumably more experienced man, and he was interested in me! When we finished lunch, he drove me back to the bank, and said “We should do this again sometime.”

So we did. We met for lunch a few more times, and each time, I found myself growing attracted to him. At some point he began kissing me goodbye in the car when he dropped me off, and the kisses got more intimate as time worn on. I was thrilled when he asked me out for a drink one day. I was taking evening classes, so he agreed to meet me at a cantina not to far from campus.

He had mostly seen me in slacks and sweaters on our lunch dates, so I enjoyed dressing more casually, yet slightly sexy for him this time. Even my friends in class noticed! The clock ticked so slowly that evening in class, but finally, the professor dismissed us, and I dashed to my car.

I arrived at the Mexican cantina first, and waited anxiously for him; and waited; and waited. Just when I was sure I had misunderstood him and that I must have the wrong time or place, he arrived. Mr. Garcia apologized for being late, gave me an approving up and down look, and ordered our drinks. We talked over margaritas. He told me how great I looked, and I drank in his sophistication and confidence. When it was time to go, we walked to my car and flirted. He leaned me against my little hatchback and kissed me like I had never been kissed before. His lips parted mine, and our tongues mingled. I held onto his hips while his hand firmly held my neck and his fingers got tangled in my long hair. I felt his pelvis press into mine. It all just seemed so surreal to be with this older man, but it was wonderful.

I was very surprised when he called me at home the following rainy Sunday afternoon. We had never exchanged phone numbers because I saw him at the bank so often, and I was afraid my parents would wonder why a man was calling me. He invited me to go out for drinks again. I lied to my parents, telling them I was going to the library at the university to study, and I met him at the cantina again. We watched a football game and enjoyed appetizers and sangria. This time, when it was time to go, we sat in his car to say our goodbyes, due to the pouring rain. Kissing in his car lead to touching, and touching lead to new naughtiness for me.

As I have said, I was a late bloomer. I was 20 when I lost my virginity in a motel with a boy I truly cared about. After him, there were a few guys I dated (no sex), and then there was DBF. I had not been adventurous or risqué in any way with anyone before; lights out, plain and simple sex was pretty much all I knew. So, when Mr. Garcia guided my hand to his lap, I was unsure of what to do - after all, we were in a public parking lot and it was not yet dark outside. His hands were all over me, my shirt was untucked and his lips were exploring my neck and chest. I felt myself getting aroused, and tried to relax a little. Slowly, I began to rub my hand over and around his lap, albeit timidly. He moaned and kissed me harder, signaling that he liked what I was doing. Before long, he was leaning over and I was almost lying across the front seat of his company provided Buick. He unzipped my jeans and slid his hand between my legs. He found my wet pussy and massaged my clit as he writhed against me, bringing me to a quick and intense orgasm. When we stopped, the rain had eased up and the windows were steamy. We said our final goodbyes and agreed to meet again next week after my Thursday evening class again.

When Thursday evening arrived, the scene was much the same; same time, same place, same make out session in his car, only this time, it was dark, and he wanted a little more. While we were kissing and groping, he whispered, "I want to feel your hand around my dick." He unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock. Once again, he guided my hand to his lap, and I began touching him. As we kissed, he showed me what felt good. I am sure he would have preferred a blowjob, but he seemed to like teaching me how to give a hand job. His was the first cum I ever felt as he exploded onto my hand and his lap. After a quick clean up, we resumed kissing and he fingered me until I shook with pleasure.

Our meetings, both in and out of the bank, tapered off for a while due to his business travel. One day, while learning how to use a new computer database at the bank, I innocently looked him up. Boy was I surprised to see a woman’s name on his mortgage! Her name was not Mrs. Garcia, but it made me wonder who she was. The next time Mr. Garcia came to my teller window, I was little quiet and suspicious, and he noticed. I eventually learned that he had been living with his girlfriend the whole time. My innocent little heart was crushed, but not entirely surprised when I began to think back on things. In retrospect I can say that our clandestine dates were exciting for an innocent girl like me, and I don’t regret what I did. I have always wondered if Mr. Garcia ever married the other woman or not. (He stopped coming to my window once his secret was out.)

So there you have it, a confession from my college days, one that DH used to enjoy listening to in our pre-hotwifing years.


Reflections... on this blog & my journey this far

Dear Readers,
I apologize for the lack of posts recently. I had some time off a few weeks ago before transferring to a new department at work, which allowed me time to enjoy and write about my Afternoon Delight, and practice my oral skills with DH and The Pilot. Now, I am settling into my new role at work, learning new policies and procedures, as well as getting to know my new clients. My return to work coincided with the shout out from Fleshbot, and now a link on Love Boudoir.
I hope my new readers will continue to check back for future confessions. I blog about my confessions in real time, which means that I go out in search of playmates when life allows. As a working mother, I have to make sure that my hotwife endeavors do not compromise my family or my job performance. I am hopeful that my new position at work will not be as stressful as my previous role (something that I never really blogged about, but I was very unhappy in my old department). DH has a new job, too. So far, our new schedules are better, and we are enjoying more time together, rather than acting like two ships that pass in the night.

Last night, I went out in hopes of finding a playmate, but came home without a confessions to share. As I sipped my wine, I enjoyed thinking about previous successful hotwife nights. The Seducer will always be a fond memory, as he was the one who really initiated me into this lifestyle, although he will never know it. Our passionate encounter turned me on more than I ever though possible in regards to extramarital activities. I wish I had paid more attention to things, like the color of his eyes and the size of his cock. I was so excited by the events as they happened, that I neglected to take the time to commit all the details to my memory. I do remember feeling surprised that I was actually flirting with and kissing another man. I also remember feeling shocked when he took my hand and placed it on the growing bulge in his jeans. When we talked, there was a mutual connection, a sense of naughtiness, and attraction, all of which added to the experience. In retrospect, I wonder if I should have gone to his hotel room... Oh well.
I also thought about The Italian Kisser. Despite the issues I had with him after the fact, I still enjoyed my encounters with him. There was a strong attraction between us, and he took my hotwife cherry. He is the only man that I have been with more than once in my hotwife adventures. As a read back on my first post about him now, I realized that I never fully explained the moniker that I bestowed upon him. The pick up line that he used after he helped to rid me of the annoying old man went something like this: "Have you ever had an Italian Kiss?" I looked at him coyly and asked, "Is that a drink, or are you referring to yourself?" Then of course, as the evening went on, we kissed quite a bit, and it seemed appropriate to to name him The Italian Kisser.
I would be lying if I did not say that I am little disappointed that The Pilot never contacted me after our get together in his truck. I thought about his thick cock for days, no weeks, after sucking him and giving him a hand job. I enjoyed our conversation and our playtime. That encounter left me hungry for more. So hungry in fact, that I have even started checking out Ashley Madison (thanks for the tips, RiffDog!). I have not seriously tried to find a playmate on there, but getting wink messages is entertaining! Should I feel guilty for having a profile there if I am not 100% sure that I want to meet someone face to face?

I have had a few requests for confessions from my pre-hotwifing days. As any of my regular readers know, my early posts explained how vanilla and typical my sex life was. However, there are a few tales to tell, which I would be happy to share if more than just a few fans are curious.

We are both enjoying the hotwife lifestyle more than I ever imagined we would! Thanks to the readers who left comments on an earlier post about their experiences. I enjoy the process of getting ready to go out with hopes of a sexual encounter with a new friend. The thrill of the chase turns me on. The 'newness' factor arouses me. The first look, the first touch, and first kiss ignite something deep inside me. I still can't believe how much DH is turned on by having a hotwife. Honestly, I can't believe how turned on I get from this double life, too.

Well, I have created a random/potpourri post that is equivalent to a sitcom clip show, complete with links to other posts for you to enjoy. I want to thank my loyal readers for coming back even when weeks go by without a new post, and welcome new readers who have found my suburbia via links on other blogs and sites.

Until next time,


The Pilot... part three of my 7th confession

It was 3:20 a.m. I dialed DH’s number. “Honey, I am on my way home and I have a story to tell you,” …

As one very astute reader/blogger commented a few months ago, the main purpose of my hotwife dates is to serve as a prelude for a hot and steamy sexual escapade with DH. And tonight was no exception!

DH was waiting for me in our bed. As usual, he barely slept while I was out, and was anxious to hear about what I had done with The Pilot. I climbed on top of him the our bed and began telling him my story...

... we kissed ...
... he took out his thick, hard cock ...

... I started giving him a had job ...

... I slid my lips around his big head ...

DH enjoyed hearing all of the sexy details. He is all in favor of my newfound interest and appreciation of cocks, so he wanted me to tell him all about The Pilot's nice package.

... he was very hard ...
... the head was big ...
... it was long and straight ...
... I licked him ...
... I sucked him ...
... I made him cum ...

Honestly, when we first talked about hotwifing (even before we knew it had a name), I was afraid that he wouldn't actually want to hear me relay my stories; that it might backfire because he used to be the jealous type. I also never thought I would like relaying any sexy details to him, for fear of making him jealous. Boy, was I wrong!

I continued to tell him about what I had done with another man while he began to undress me, touch me and kiss me. I suppose the fact that DH resists any form of self gratification while I am out helps to heighten our lovemaking when I get home, because he was quite attentive, and basically ravaged me at 3:30 in the morning.

Something else that surprises me, is how I have learned to enjoy talking dirty to DH in bed. I mentioned that The Pilot's friend struck out on his date, and that I teased about how the friend went to the wrong bar. That lead to talk of a fantasy about having The Pilot and his friend for a threesome! I think that caught DH by surprise, but in a good way!

Before we fell asleep around 4:30, there was plenty of kissing, licking, sucking, and fucking happening in our bed!

The next morning, after DH got ready for work, he came back into our bedroom and told me that he needed another blowjob because he couldn't go to work feeling so horny. So I happily obliged!

The following Saturday,
over the morning newspaper, I whispered in to DH's ear "I can't stop thinking about his nice cock." He soon followed me to the bedroom where I straddled his lap and rubbed myself against his dick through our thin layers of pajamas/underwear. After he came, I spread my legs for him to watch me finger myself and reach a delicious orgasm.

So, thanks to The Pilot, (who by the way, as a divorced man thinks our alternative lifestyle is cool) we have enjoyed several sexually satisfying encounters, with no end in sight.


The Pilot... part two of my 7th confession

background: DH and I are usually in frequent contact on my nights out via text messages. For some reason, I had no cell service in the bar for most of the night. I did manage to tell him that I was flirting with eye contact early in the night, and later that I had was talking to The Pilot as the night went on. Poor guy must have gone crazy not hearing from me much!

And speaking of The Pilot…
We walked arm in arm to his truck. He apologized that his truck wasn’t too fancy, and that the bench seat might not be too comfortable. I commented that there was no center console/arm rest to get in the way. He grinned and winked, then said “I like the way you think!” I suggested moving to a corner parking spot away from the main isle (a lesson I learned while with The Italian Kisser). Once in our new location, The Pilot thought it might be a good idea to put the sunshade up in the back window. Smart guy! I knew I was in for some fun now!

We sat very close to each other with his right arm around my waist and my left arm over his shoulder and around his neck. The Pilot pulled me in for a kiss. As our lips and tongues touched I realized how much I had been yearning to kiss him and be kissed. I could feel my heart beating in my chest and a flutter of excitement in my stomach. Our free hands lightly explored each other over our clothes while our lips were locked and our tongues implored one another.

And then he kicked things up a notch. So far, our physical contact consisted only of a handshake, walking arm in arm to the truck, kissing, and minimal petting . All very nice – which is why this next move seemed so bold. The Pilot skillfully used a single hand to unbuckle his belt, unzip his jeans and pull his cock out.

I pulled away from the kiss to see it. His cock was very hard, thick, and standing tall, begging for attention. I used the tip of my finger to trace around his bulbed head and then I kissed him again. Next I began to stoke his shaft. His lips parted from mine to let out a groan. A deep, guttural, open-mouthed groan that communicated so much: pleasure, wanton desire, and the fact that it had probably been a while since a woman had touched him there. I liked that I could evoke this reaction from a simple touch. I was enjoying his reaction. I was also enjoying feeling powerful as I thought about how I was the cause of his erection. His groans encouraged me to continue.

We kissed more while my hand continued to slide up and down his cock for a while. When we stopped kissing to catch our breath, I looked down at my hand around his shaft. I noticed that I could barely touch the tips of my fingers around his thickness. His head looked so smooth and large. I wanted it.
“You have a very nice cock,” I told him.
“I want your lips to touch it.”
That was all I needed to hear. I repositioned myself so that I could lower my head to his lap and lick the tip of his cock.
I looked up to see his face. His eyes were half closed and his head was tilled back against the seat. He was clearly enjoying what I was doing, which was a compliment to me considering I have just recently worked to refine my blowjob skills.
*more groans*
I opened wider and took his head into my warm mouth. He bucked his hips slightly. I took as much of him in as I could, which wasn’t too much because of his thickness. I knew that I was not ready to let him cum in my mouth, so I alternated between using my mouth and my hand.
“Does this feel good?” I whispered.
*louder groans*
“How long has it been since a woman touched you like this?” I boldly asked.
“Three months, I think.”
I went back to licking and sucking his dick, but finished him off by hand. His cum pooled on his hip and inside of his jeans.
“Sorry for making a mess,” I said.
He laughed and said, “That’s quite alright.” Then he tucked his cock back into his jeans and pulled himself together.
“I wish I could have put my penis inside of you,” he said.
“I’d like to feel your thick cock fill me up and stretch my pussy sometime,” I whispered. I sat up and straddled one of his thighs. “You’ve made me very wet,” I told him. “Do you want to see?” I asked, but did not wait for his answer as I unzipped my jeans and lowered them along with my panties down to my hips. We kissed as he slid his hands into my black panties, and softly touched me. I ached to feel his finger deeper inside of me, so I wiggled and rubbed myself on his hand until I felt him slip a finger in to feel my juices. I gently bounced up and down, feeling his finger slide in and out. I could tell he was feeling for my clit, but our positions were just not right.
I pulled his hand up to my mouth and licked my wetness off from his finger. He looked at me with a wicked grin and said, “That was hot! Lie back,” he instructed.
I complied.
“Take these off,” he said, tugging at my jeans. I tried to slip my right leg out of the pants, but they got stuck on the heal of my shoe.
“Sexy shoes are not always easy to work with,” I commented as I wiggled my foot out of the strappy sandal and the out of the leg of the pants. I didn’t even have a chance to take the other leg off before The Pilot was spreading my legs open wider as he went down in me.
Now let me just say that this is no easy task in the small cab of a pickup truck. We shifted and repositioned ourselves until we found the right angle, which included my pretty painted toenails pressed against the windshield.
The Pilot ran his tongue up and down my pink folds, and made circles around my clit.
“You are so wet,” he said. I felt him slide one, then two fingers into my pussy. I think he was earnestly trying to find my G-spot while his face was buried in my lap. I ran my fingers through his hair with one hand, and pushed against the dashboard to brace myself with the other.
I felt a small orgasmic wave shudder through my body.
“I so wish I could do this again, so I could slowly ravage your entire body,” he said.
Without making any promise, I left him know that I’d definitely be interested in meeting him again. I sat up and put my jeans and sexy shoe back on. Then I leaned over and used my thumb to wipe away some of my wetness from his chin, and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips and tongue. Again he told me how hot I was, and told me how good I smelled. I raised his hand to my mouth again and sucked his damp fingers that had been inside of me. This brought a sexy grin to his lips. I asked him if he thought his friend would be jealous that his date did not end as well. The Pilot laughed. “Tell him he went to the wrong bar,” I said, and that made him laugh more. Then we noticed my toe prints speckled all over his windshield, which made us both smile.

While he drove me to my car he mentioned wanting to see me again. I asked if he was available on a specific night. To my dismay he said that he’d be flying internationally during that time. I jotted down my email address for him and handed it to him as he opened my door for me and walked me the few steps to my car.
“I have a no strings attached attitude about all of this," I casually said.
"I sensed that about you," he replied.
"So here is my email address. You can save it and contact me whenever is good for you, or you can throw it away. It is up to you,” I said.
He kissed me once again and smiled as he said, “Good night, and drive carefully.”

I closed my car door and checked my cell phone. A-ha! I had service again! It was 3:20 a.m. I dialed DH’s number.

“Honey, I am on my way home and I have a story to tell you,” …


The Pilot... part one of my 7th confession

As promised, I have a new confession...

I felt pretty good getting ready to go out last night. I wore a black V-neck shirt that showed some cleavage, new jeans that looked good, and open-toed high heel shoes. With a spritz of perfume, some lip gloss, one last check of my hair, and a wink of approval from DH, I was out the door.

After drinks with my friend, I decided not to stay at the Mexican place (where I kissed The Tongue Stud) because there didn’t seem to be any prospects. I am a creature of habit, so I drove the short distance to the hip and trendy bar that I have grown to feel comfortable in. DH and I went there together recently, but the place was dead on that occasion. It was busier and full of promise last night.

I sat at the bar and ordered a glass of wine. I glanced around the room, taking mental notes on the people in the place. While I did not identify a possible playmate right away, it seemed like there were a few men who might have potential. I sat alone for about an hour, just sipping my wine and keeping my antennae alert. I spied a tall man a few barstools over to my left drinking a beer. He was alone, and caught me looking his way a few times. Each time I would glance away as if embarrassed that he saw me checking him out. I felt the butterflies in my stomach when he got up and walked my way… right past me toward the door. *sigh*

All this time there had been a couple, seated between the tall man and me. Every once in a while I would catch a bit of their conversation, and eventually asked the woman to watch my seat while I went to the restroom. When I came back, I was pleased to see the tall man had also returned. When the couple between us paid their tab and left, I hoped that the tall man would move over. No such luck. He moved to a spot that afforded him a better view of Sports Center on the TV. Oh well.

I was chatting with a bartender when the guy who had been part of the couple came back. The bartender asked, “So, you’re back?” with a raised eyebrow. The guy said that his match(dot)com date was not a match. The bartender and I laughed at this announcement.“I’ll have another beer”, the guy said, and sat in the empty seat next to me. We began chatting about why there was no love connection tonight and his other failed dates from the internet. Then his date texted him to thank him and let him know she made it home safely. He also got a text from a male friend who had also been on a first date with similar results.

For the first time, I began to notice this guy: light brown hair, nice smile, light eyes, about 5’9”, height and weight proportional… overall, not bad! Things were looking up, and I began to wonder where things might lead…

We carried on an intelligent conversation about many things, and maintained eye contact the entire time. Over the course of an hour and a half we talked about dating, sports, wineries, jobs and travel. When he told me that he’s a pilot for a major airline, I immediately conjured up an image of him in his uniform – very hot!

He seemed pleased that I wanted to stick around for another drink and talk more. I never mentioned being married, but did not hide my wedding ring. The Pilot never asked who I went to Europe with when we talked about travel, or inquired when I used plural pronouns such as us and we. We talked for along time with out any hint of physical contact, other than a firm handshake when we eventually exchanged names. I began to wonder if he was being respectful or if I just wasn’t his type. He did notice and comment on my red toenails peeking out of my 'sexy shoes' (his words), so I began to feel hopeful. I decided that if I wanted something to happen I was going to have to make the first move.

“So, back to the gal from match(dot)com,” I said with my hands out in front of me like a scale. “Based on your hopes for your date tonight, who met your expectations better, her… or me?” I asked as my hands teetered like a balance when I said our names.
“No contest. YOU.”
“Really?” I inquired coyly.
“Yes, you. You are much more intelligent, and sexier,” he said.
“Have you noticed anything about me?”
“Well, I noticed you, drinking your wine while I was on my date. You are the reason I came back for another beer,” he answered.
“You came back to see me?”
“Yes. I kept thinking about kissing your entire body while she was still here.”
“Oh, thank you," I blushed, "but what I meant was, have you figured something out about me?”
“You mean the wedding ring? Yeah, I saw it. So what brings you to this bar alone if you are married?”

And that is when I explained my situation and being a hotwife. He seemed to understand that sharing me is a fantasy/turn on for DH, then asked, “So, what is in it for you?”
“I like the thrill of flirting with a stranger. I was a bit of a wallflower and a late bloomer before I got married, so I enjoy this chance to try things I might have missed out on. Plus, it adds spice to our sex life when I tell DH all about what happens when I go out.”
“Has this arrangement worked well for you two?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “So, if you use relationship websites to look for dates, you are probably looking for something more than a random hook up, and yet you have been sitting here with me for hours, knowing I am married,” I said.

Just then, a woman on his other side asked if he could scoot over so she could squeeze in another stool. We were now very close to each other. We grinned at our new proximity and locked eyes. “Did you pay her to do that?” I jokingly asked. We chuckled.
“No, but I am not complaining, are you?” he teased. “Back to your comment... Yes, I would someday like to find a woman to settle down with, but I am not opposed to releasing some energy with physical contact once in a while.” I knew what he was implying, but was caught off guard by his next statement.

“I want to take you to my house and touch you, kiss you, and feel your body against mine.”

I looked at my watch. It was 2:15 am. “I am afraid it is just too late for that, but you could kiss me here.” His body slouched in disappointment. I felt bad. If only he hadn’t been such a gentleman for so long… I would have taken him up on his offer but it was really too late for me.

“Can I at least walk you to your car and give you a good night kiss there?” he suggested.

“That I can do,” I said. We walked out to the parking garage. “I have an idea. Why don’t we go sit in your car instead of going to my mom-mobile and see what happens.”

His smile and the way he offered his arm to escort me let me know that this idea met with his approval.

Off we went…

(edited to add a key detail post publishing)


Afternoon delight ...a confession of another kind

Boy, did DH score last Tuesday afternoon!

I watched a video on another blog Tuesday morning that inspired me to practice my oral skills. There was something about the woman that called me to action. You see, I guess I should also confess that blowjobs are not my specialty (my head hung low and blushing). I receive way more than I give in the oral department. Thankfully DH enjoys pleasuring me that way, and I love every minute of it.

So, back to Tuesday afternoon. While one child was napping, and the other was visiting a friend, DH and I found ourselves at home together in the middle of the day. We retreated to the bedroom and I shared the video with him as I undressed. He asked why I liked it so much. Well, unlike the porn I've watched on cable, the man's dick was prominently featured, and it was of a nice size. Also, the woman seemed to really enjoy sucking cock. In addition, I liked seeing it all through the man's point of view - something new for me, a woman.

So, while the video was playing, I began to massage DH's thighs and dick through his pants. I was thinking about how pleased he'd be once he realized what I wanted. I wanted to suck him off. Now. DH removed his pants, and I resumed rubbing his cock through his boxers. Soon I reached in the opening and pulled his dick out to play. I began to lick and tease his head with my tongue while gently holding his balls and the base of his cock. Next I opened wider to take more of him into my mouth. Now as I mentioned, I am not so skilled when it comes to blowjobs, so I began to emulate what I'd seen in the video, which seemed to please DH. I was kneeling in a position that allowed me to look up to DH's face as I licked and sucked him. I was also situated in a way that gave DH access to my ass and naughty bits. His fingers soon discovered how wet and turned on I was. Before I knew it he was sliding two fingers in and out of me, nearly distracting me from my mission. His moans reminded me to focus, so I took his cock into my mouth deeper, a new feat for me. After some time, he began to talk about how close he was to cumming, so I sucked more and tried to use my tongue to tantalize him to orgasm. I knew my mission was accomplished when I tasted his cum.

I relaxed on my back next to DH, and he was kind enough to return the oral favor.

It was a delightful afternoon, if I do say so myself!


Two ships that pass in the night

Yes, I am back, but I have been busy with visiting family. Sorry for the delay in new posts, and thanks to those who emailed me to see if I was still around!

DH and I usually work opposite schedules, so I frequently refer to us as two ships that pass in the night. Well, last week our ships collided with erotic passion...

Wednesday night I slipped my pink toy beneath my pillows with plans of solo play at bed time since DH was working a late shift. I guess I was more tired than I realized from my travels, because I went to sleep without playing with pinky, which stayed tucked behind the pillows for another time. Thursday night was very warm, and I crawled into bed wearing only panties and my unbuttoned PJ top on so that I could enjoy the breeze created by the ceiling fan.

Later, once peacefully asleep, I experienced erotic visions and sensations in my dreams. I envisioned bare legs entwined and sensual massages. I heard soft moans and gasps of pleasure. These delightful sensations went on for a short while before I became aware that I was not dreaming. I felt a hand tracing a light trail up my thigh to my hips and then up to my shoulder and back down again where it gently massaged my ass. These pleasing touches continued for a while as I began to stir and make soft sounds of pleasure. I felt a body spooning behind me as a hand reached around to cup my breast and tease my nipple. All the while I kept my eyes closed, as if to continue in my erotic dream-like state, and I voiced my approval with more breathy gasps and soft moans. I felt a hand slide down my stomach to explore the area beneath my sheer panties. I moved my leg to allow him better access. I wanted to feel his fingers part my lips and tease my clit. My unspoken wish was granted, and I felt fingers discover how wet and worked up I had gotten during my erotic dream and sensual massage. My companion in the darkness slid his fingers over my mound, making me writhe and twist, when suddenly I heard the familiar buzz of my pink toy. He held the vibrating toy against my clit, nearly sending me over the edge. I spread my legs open wide, silently begging for more. He sat up between my knees and expertly fucked me with my pretty pink toy, varying speed and hardness of his plunges. I could barely control my bucking pelvis. I felt strong spasms shake my entire body with orgasmic pleasure.

Once I caught my breath I returned the favor. He laid on his back, and I cuddled close enough to reach out and touch the growing bulge within his boxers. I rubbed and massaged his cock, and eventually freed it from the confines of the fabric so I could see his erect organ and feel the bulbed head in my grasp. I milked the cum from his cock, granting him the same release of orgasm as he had bestowed on me. We embraced for a little while longer before either one of us uttered a word, breaking the silence. I whispered a welcome home, then we drifted off to sleep, still feeling relaxed.
It was indeed a hot encounter, as two ships collided in the night.


Musings and confessions of another kind

As any of DH's regular readers know, he is out of town for a bit.
And though I wish I had a "while the cat's away the mouse will play" confession to share with you, I do have some other stuff to share.

You see, I am at home with our youngest child, because he is not a very good traveler. Just ask any of the other passengers on our transcontinental flight last July, and they can testify to this fact. So instead, I am relaxing and spending time with my child during the day. By night, once he is soundly asleep, I have time on my hands.
I could do something productive such as clean out my closet... nah.
I could do something intellectual such as read my new library books... maybe later.

So, how am I spending my evenings? Well, blogging (of course) and surfing other blogs (naturally), and in general spending too much time on the web. But when I turn out the lights, I have been pleasuring myself with my pretty pink sex toy. I confess, I have been masterbating.

To get in the mood Monday night I poured a generous, cool glass of Bailey's Irish Cream and took my laptop out to the patio (gotta love wireless!) to peruse more craigslistings. But they just didn't do it for me. So I finished my drink and my cigarette (yet another confession - I pulled out my secret stash of smokes!), brought the laptop in, undressed, and hopped into bed. Out of nowhere, I started fantasizing about having an encounter with a UPS delivery man! Well, maybe it was inspired in part by something I read on someone's blog or a hot wife forum. Anyway, I thought about how I could lure him into my home and eventually fuck him while DH was upstairs listening. I got quite turned on thinking about this, and my pretty pink toy made me feel very good! I held the tip of it against the hood of my clit to get warmed up. Then I used my hand to gently massage my outer lips before I sampled the wet folds within. I was ready to slide the bulbed head of the gently vibrating toy into my warm pussy. My pretty pink toy is equipped with a cute little butterfly that is positioned just right to flutter against my waiting clit and bring me to orgasm... ahh...

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It is Wednesday now, the sun has set, & my little one is tucked in. Here I am again, on the patio, blogging while I listen to the sounds of nature; crickets chirping, leaves rustling in the breeze, the kids out for summer break playing ball in the street, a car alarm sounding off, a distant motorcycle revving up... oh wait, I said sounds of nature... you get the idea. Beside me is a bottle of Patron Platinum Tequila and some slices of lime... yum! (oh my, where did that pack of cigarettes come from?)

On a side note, today I got a little bit of bad news, so I am wallowing in loneliness and a bit of depression. I am hoping that the tequila will erase some of these feelings, and send waves of relaxation over me so that I can once again slide my naked body under the sheets and drift back to my fantasy of the UPS man ringing my doorbell and telling me that he has a special package for me...



Musing: Craigslist email

Remember my wine-induced craigslist post? Well, the man that I replied to and I have exchanged a few follow up emails. Here is a snippet of a message in which he gives his point if view.
(slightly edited for grammar and clarification)

A message from the craigslist man: "I had never posted on craigslist before, at least not looking
for a romance/casual sex friend for the evening. Most of the responses were from 'professional women' but a few weren't. I had a very disappointing date and went back to the hotel alone.

The 30 something woman I met was quite different from what I was expecting. Turns out she lived with her mom and was hoping to find her soul mate, and even if she wanted to have sex with me, it was just too creepy.

When I logged into my email, I had an inquiry from a very mysterious lady. When she shared her blog with me in the email, I was blown away. It was so hot! I must admit it made for some pretty good fantasy material as I spent that night alone. I couldn't get her out of my head. I was hard most of the flight home the next morning. I thought 'I have to make contact with this woman.' It would be a couple months before I returned, so I read suburbanwifeblogger frequently to see what she was up to and left some feedback. Plus the links to so many other hotwives made for some great fantasies. The one thing I knew is that I would do my best to make her the center of attention if we ever did meet and so she could get what she deserved, unlike the selfish man she had been with."

So, what do you think?


My 6th confession continues... a familiar face

…DH texted to check in on my progress. Just as I replied that I would be home soon, the evening took a turn for the better ...

I had been slowly sipping my drink at the hip and trendy bar, but almost ready to leave when I sensed someone leaning against the bar very close to me. I turned to find myself face to face with The Italian Kisser! At the very same instant we recognized one another and began to laugh with surprise and disbelief! “Wow!” I blurted out. We exchanged greetings in between laughter, and looked into each other’s eyes with a certain knowing sense of what could be in store. He said that he sure was glad that he decided to stop by, even though it was very late. I agreed. I was glad we had run into each other as well. Then we kissed. I do not recall feeling aroused, but I was definitely excited and happy to see him. I was mentally taking note of his features while we spoke and gazed at each other. His cleft chin, olive completion, husky voice, and short dark hair were all as I had remembered them. He lavished me with compliments between kisses. “You have the most amazing eyes I have ever seen,” he whispered. I melt when I hear a man compliment my eyes. They are my best feature (if I do say so myself), so when a man takes note of them, it is a sure way to turn me on! We talked more about how we had both ended up in the same place in the wee hours of the night, and kissed. We talked about our last chance encounter, and kissed. He told me I was the hottest woman in the bar (which awakened the butterflies in my stomach), and we kissed. This was a new experience for me – the element of thrill was certainly there, but there was no chase. The chase is usually the fun part for me. I like to flirt and be someone else for a while. I admit my mind was racing with what might come of this pleasant surprise…

He told me that my beautiful eyes were so hard to resist, to which I replied, “Who says you have to resist?” I am sure it was then that he knew he could have me, and I knew that I could not take those words back, even if I changed my mind. With a swift and confident move, he turned my barstool to face him straight on. He nudged my knees apart, boldly stepped between my legs, and embraced me. I could feel a bulge behind his zipper. I was starting to feel the excitement build inside of me. He rubbed my shoulders and slid his left hand down over my breast, sending chills down my spine. He asked if I had to get home soon, so I reminded him that DH knows I go out for flirtatious fun, just like the last time, and that there was no rush (although it was about 2 a.m.!). He nodded his head to indicate I should settle my tab and finish my drink, which I willingly did. We were on our way…

Ok, this is going to sound so out of place, or at least it felt out of place, yet endearing when I noticed it. As we walked out of the bar, both last time and this time, The Italian Kisser sweetly held my hand. I don’t know if it was a romantic gesture, an act of chivalry, or just one of his usual moves, but both times it gave me a thrill almost as much as our kisses. Silly, I know, but feeling his grasp was just the right tender touch to ease my nerves.

On our way out to his SUV, I stopped in the ladies’ room so I could text DH and tell him what was going on. DH asked if I’d be staying out a little longer now that I’d found a friend, so I told him we were on our way to find a more private location. I asked if he had any last minute requests. I needed to give DH the opportunity to tell me to stop. We had previously talked about what I would do if I ever met The Italian Kisser again, so I think he knew there was a good chance I’d allow things to go to the next level. I think he also knew that I still had the condom in my purse from the last time I’d gone out. He did not tell me to stop, but let me know it was OK to let things proceed.

I rejoined The Italian, and we walked hand in hand to the parking lot. He asked for ideas of places to go so we could have some privacy. I reminded him that he was more experienced at this kind of thing that I was. He scoffed and said he did not believe me. I shared a brief summary of what I have done, which as you know, only amounts to flirting, kissing, and fondling, whereas he had tested the waters of infidelity more than once in his past. I am not sure if he believed me or not. I teased him about acting like he didn’t know what he was doing, but quickly added that I was not judging him. He drove and parked the car in an empty parking lot nearby. We sat in the front seat talking for a bit before he reclined my passenger seat, climbed over my lap, and knelt between my legs. He slid my blouse and bra up to see and feel my breasts. I was trapped underneath him, but enjoying the sensation of being slightly dominated. In between fondling, kissing and licking my nipples, he told me that he wished we had more time and were in a better setting. He also inquired a little about why DH and I have this arrangement. I explained what it means to be a hotwife. We made out and explored each other’s bodies, and he asked me what I would do or feel if he was better than DH. I firmly put an end to that line of questioning by telling him that I don’t do this to compare; I do it to add to my already wonderful and satisfying marriage and sex life. We went back to kissing, and I reached down to rub his dick through his jeans. At some point my blouse came off and was tossed aside. That’s when he began to talk about the next time we meet. Next time, I wondered? Maybe things were not moving to the next level as I suspected they would. I teased him that the next time had better not end with me unsatisfied like the last time. I reminded him that he had the pleasure of cumming, but I was left feeling disappointed that he did not return the favor those months ago. He promised that would never happen again, and moved to the back seat, pulling me along with him.

The cramped quarters made things awkward in the back seat at first. He removed his shirt while I tried to slide my hand between his legs, but our positions were not conducive to such activities. I said something like “I am having a little trouble here,” so The Italian quickly remedied the problem by moving over and swiftly taking off his jeans. I was a little taken aback by this move. He was now stripped down to his boxers, and I lay back awaiting the next move, slightly dazed and shocked. I was suddenly struck with the enormity of what I was doing. My mind filled with thoughts of my DH, wondering what he was doing. Oh my god, I thought to myself, this is happening! The pleasing sensation of The Italian’s tongue on my clit snapped me back to attention. In a matter of moments The Italian had pulled down my jeans and thong, and I had been too consumed with my own thoughts to notice. He used his thumb and tongue in harmony to stimulate me. I heard myself moan with pleasure. I writhed beneath him. I felt the head of his penis tease my lips. “You are so wet,” he said. O.M.F.G.! He is starting to fuck me! I quickly fumbled for my purse and took out the condom. I showed it to him, but he said he would pull out. I felt him thrust in and out of me. I know I insisted more that he should wear the condom, but we continued, with his assurance that he was going to pull out. I remember vacillating between moans of pleasure and feeling tears well up in my eyes as thoughts of DH flooded my brain. I felt slightly scared. Before I knew it, I felt The Italian shift his weight over me so that he could jerk off onto my stomach. His knuckles rubbed against my clit. I honestly do not know how long we were at it. Even though I had heard the gasps and groans of my own voice, I don’t remember feeling true pleasure, and despite being dripping wet, I did not cum. I guess my feelings of fear and thoughts of DH had distracted me too much.

We kissed a few more times and cleaned up while we redressed. The mood was light and we joked around, which was just the relief I needed. I was conscious of making sure there was no evidence to be found. I found my broken fingernail, a casualty of the awkward fumbling when we first climbed to the back seat. The Italian asked me what would happen when I got home. I truthfully told him that I would share every detail. He asked if I’d get fucked again. “Of course,” I replied. “Does that bother you?” I asked. “No,” he answered.

He asked for my number so he could text or call me. I must say, I was never in search of a regular fuck-buddy. When I go out, I look for no strings attached situations. But, I thought, we do have fun together, and dare I say some sort of chemistry, so I gave him my number. He drove me to my car, and he told me to call or text him sometime. “No,” I told him, “you’ll contact me.” He agreed, and we parted ways. I knew my DH would be up waiting for me...


My 6th confession... the preface

Upon perusing this blog recently, my DH commented that it had been a while since I had a new confession to post. We talked a little more and figured out that our schedules would permit me to go out a few nights later. So a tentative night out was planned…

Remember the post where I vented about primping and going out but having no luck? Well, this time I decided not to try as hard to look and feel seductive. I did all of my regular girly things to get ready, with a hint of sexy perfume and some extra mascara and lipstick, and then I was on my way.

I tried a new bar first, but it was a younger crowed filled with couples, so I moved on. My next stop was to a familiar lounge that caters to men. It is decorated in dark woods, very dim lights, and offers an array of cigars to the good ‘ole boys while they drink whiskey. This makes is one of the few remaining places where I can legally partake in my naughty girl (but unhealthy) indulgence of a cigarette or two. It is usually pretty quiet, but it seemed busier than usual on this night, so I thought I might have some luck. I found my self sipping a chocolate martini and chatting with a bartender at the end of his shift. There was no attraction for me, but the conversation was fine so I hung out for a while - he had a bad boy image that I thought might grow on me after a few drinks. Soon other employees gathered there too, and we all drank and talked. They eventually left, but the ‘bad-boy’ invited me to join them at a party at another bar. I thought about whether or not I would join them as I finished my martini.

During the night, my DH texted a few times to see if I was having any fun. I sadly reported that things were not too exciting. I drove by the bar that the group from the lounge had moved to, and almost went in, but decided to have one last drink for the night at the hip and trendy bar I’d been to months earlier instead. I easily found a seat at the bar and ordered a drink. The bartenders were showing off with their flare techniques and entertaining customers while I sat and sipped my drink. I enjoyed the show, but was keeping my eye out for any potential playmates. I absent-mindedly ordered another drink, but was thinking about heading home as soon as is was gone. Again, DH texted to check in on my progress. Just as I replied that I would be home soon, the evening took a turn for the better…


Reflections and musings about my wine-induced behavior

Here is the outcome of my wine-induced craigslist reply ...

When I answered the ad, I gave a brief description of myself, mentioned when I 'd be available, and included a link to this blog to provide more info about myself and my situation. I did not get a reply right away, so I figured my message was lost among a sea of emails in the inbox of the man who posted the ad. But I was wrong.

When I found a reply in my inbox a few days later, the man thanked me for providing him with such good material to pleasure himself to! WOW - A satisfied reader!

It turns out that the man was visiting my town (presumably on business), without his wife, and was looking for companionship with the possibility of more. Our schedules conflicted, and he had left town on the date I had tried to plan a 'get together'. We have emailed a few times, and he might be traveling to my town again over the summer, so we have mentioned the possibility of meeting in the future. I'll admit, I have created a fantasy or two (while my hands wandered over my body...) of what might happen when we meet, but I am cautious and aware that real life might be very different than in my imagination. Will we click? Will there be an instant attraction, and how far will things go...? For now my questions will have to go unanswered.

On a side note, the man did go on a date with a woman who replied to his ad. He said it was rather disappointing... good thing I had provided him with interesting reading material!

Who knows, maybe in a few months I will have a hot story to tell about the man from craigslist...


Musings from a Friday night...

So, one recent Friday night while DH was working late, I had dinner with the kids, put them to bed, then sat down with the laptop to catch up on blogs I read... all pretty typical for me.

I was in a mood, one that is hard to explain - a kind of rebellious, randy, and flippant mood. I was feeling a great deal of pressure and stress from all areas of my life, and found myself drinking glass after glass of wine, alone, as I viewed the computer screen that night. When I had read all my usual blogs, surfed the web, and finished the bottle of wine, I was feeling bored and dissatisfied, so I visited craigslist to read the personal ads in may area, just for fun. Then, in a bold, wine-induced, spontaneous, and unprecedented move, I replied to an ad!

After that, I crawled into bed. I got out my jar of
x-Scream and slipped my right hand down into my panties (Ooo, la, la... the x-scream felt good!), while my left hand played with my nipples. I was wet and horny. I was almost in the throws of an orgasm, when DH came home and walked into the room. He obviously knew what I was doing, and asked if I had read any good blogs. And he must have checked the history on the browser before coming to the bedroom, because then he asked if I had been on craigslist. I told him what I had done while he watched me finish getting myself off. I think he was pretty surprised that I responded to an ad, but he was turned on to find me touching myself. We enjoyed some play time together before falling asleep.

In retrospect, I feel extra naughty finding and replying to an ad.

I wish I had a juicy hotwife tale to tell about the person who posted the ad on craigslist...
I did get a reply... and there is a little more to the story...
Should l tell you what came of my wine-induced behavior... ?


The Italian Kisser. . . my 5th confession

I tried to make plans with some girlfriends to go out and catch a sneak peak of a new movie one night at the last minute when my DH could stay home with the kids. When neither of the girls were available, I decided to go out anyway, since DH was home, and I needed a break. I wasn’t especially gussied up because I was not planning on ‘playing around’ that night (since I didn’t expect to be going out alone). After the movie let out I decided to pop into a bar that was walking distance from the theater and have just one drink.

When I arrived, I noticed that the bar was a bit trendier and hipper than I expected, and felt a little out of my element, but surveyed the place and found a seat at the bar. I ordered a chocolate martini, when I heard a voice ask me some random question. I turned to find an old man to my right trying to strike up a conversation. Now, I thought I was out of place, but next to him I felt down right young! He looked older than my father! I like older men, but not that old. I tried to be polite, yet limit my end of the conversation as much as possible, so that it didn’t look as of we were together. I was feeling relaxed and began to check out the other men in the place, just in case someone struck my fancy. All the while the old man kept talking to me, so I decided to give up. Just as I was about to down my drink and bail, out of nowhere a guy positioned himself between the old man and me and said, “Hey, I’m back.” I was startled and bewildered, and I took me a moment to realize what he was doing. I burst out laughing when I dawned on me – he was trying to get rid of the old man for me!

His plan worked! We began talking and the old man left. I was feeling rather good – after all, I had the attention of 2 men at a hip and trendy bar! I realized that I was acting bolder and more confident that usual. I tried to be flirtatious and mysterious as we exchanged banter filled with subtle sexual references.  He asked me if I had ever tried an 'Italian Kiss'.  I asked if he was referring to a drink or himself.  I learned that he was indeed Italian, we once lived in the same small community and attended rival high schools, and he too was married. He stood very close to me as we talked, and I felt his hand ease down the small of my back and his fingers slid into the top of my pants. I made no secret of the fact that I was married, and inquired about his wife. He told me that he frequently goes out to bars at night alone just to chill. I shared that my DH knew that I was out looking for flirtatious fun, and asked what his wife would think of the fact that we were getting to know each other in this manner. Of course he said that she wouldn’t need to know, so I point blank asked him if he had ever been unfaithful, to which he replied, yes. I explained my situation with DH, and assured him that what ever happened between us would be shared in detail when I got home.

It was clear that we were enjoying each other’s company. The Italian and I had our arms around each other’s waists, and we began to kiss. At some point a woman sat next to The Italian, and the 3 of us chatted a little. She seemed fine, but abruptly move to a seat across the bar from us. We continued our banter and kisses, and I remember thinking that I was more sober that in my previous escapades, and I was taking in every detail. The Italian took a break to find a restroom, and the woman we had been talking to came over to me to warn me that The Italian, who she mistook for my boyfriend, was a player, and that he was flirting with her and other women in the bar. I thanked her for her concern and thought to myself, ‘If she only knew!’

When The Italian returned, I told him about the warning I received, and we laughed. He whispered in my ear that the only woman in the bar that he was interested in was me. I smiled and told him that he was welcome to move on to a hotter woman, and even began to suggest possibilities in the bar. We talked about their assets, but he always came back to why he would rather be with me. I admit, I liked hearing his compliments. He told me I was sexy and confident. I reminded him that I had been a damsel in distress when the night began, and thanked him for rescuing me. The Italian said, “I didn’t come over to rescue you.” So I asked him why he interrupted the conversation the old man was having with me. He said that he just wanted to meet me, but that he saw the old man was still nearby and offered to invite him back over. “No thanks,” I replied and we kissed deeply, intensely, and I was getting turned on. He slid his hand underneath my shirt and let his thumb graze my nipple, so I began to touch the growing bulge in his Levis.

We carried on for quite sometime right there at the bar. He asked if I wanted to go somewhere else, but I suddenly felt a little nervous. I had never gone all the way in any of my nights out. To stall things, I asked if he was ever going to offer to buy me a drink. So he ordered a round for us, and we resumed out public display of affection. I rubbed his dick, he teased my nipples, and we continued to kiss - deep kisses and light teasing kisses. The Italian had me really turned on, so the next time he asked if I was ready to moved our fun elsewhere I agreed.

The only realistic location was to his SUV parked near mine in a parking structure. We sat in the front seat and talked for a few minutes before deciding that the back seat offered more room to fool around. I boldly straddled his lap while we kissed. I was grinding my pelvis against his dick, which felt large. I kept thinking how juvenile it seemed to be making out in a car, yet slightly thrilling to be in a public place with a man who was not my DH. As things heated up in the back seat, The Italian and I traded places, so I was on the bottom, and he unzipped his pants and took his dick out. I started to give him a hand job. He lifted my shirt to grope my breasts. Next he moved my bra and rubbed his big, hard dick between my breasts. I used my hand to help. I remember thinking that this was a virtual stranger, a man other than DH, and I was jerking him off! His penis was longer than DH’s and I was enjoying the power I had over him at that moment. I helped him reach orgasm and he came on my breasts and abdomen. He was a gentleman and offered to find something to clean me up. I was feeling unsatisfied, and tried to get him to finger me, but eventually had to masturbate while he watched so I could climax. I must admit, that left me feeling somewhat disappointed with the experience. We pulled ourselves together, and he drove me to my car. We said goodbye and kissed one last time before heading home to our spouses.

I went home and woke up DH. I told him about my night. He was turned on by the fact that The Italian came on my chest. I relived the details on more than one occasion, adding spice to our bedroom activities.

During our time at the bar, I learned of The Italian's frequent hangouts. I admit, I have looked for him on a few occasions, and I fantasize about meeting him again, but in my fantasies, things go further...

I am still amazed by the fact that my DH is turned on by these nights I go out and play. The hotwife phenomena is something I never would have predicted in our marriage. It surprises me that DH ever suggested it, but I am even more surprised that I enjoy it.

I like the power I feel knowing that I can turn a man on.

I like the thrill of the chase.

I like the butterflies in my stomach from the first kiss.

I like having a double life that no one but DH (and you readers) know about.

I like telling DH all the details.

I like feeling naughty…


Revelations, thoughts and musings...

After years of talking with my DH about being with another man, and my limited adventures thus far, I have learned that there is a name for all of this... hotwifing.

I had no idea that this was a topic studied and blogged about by SO MANY! My DH found a blog by a hotwife husband and wife and shared it with me. That blog has links to other similar blogs. I have been totally caught up reading about couples just like us.

These blogs have initiated more discussions between us, and reading the stories gets me turned on. I can completely relate to the fears, worries, and thrills described by the wives. I enjoy reading the he said, she said style of reflections that these couples share, and it makes me wonder if I should invite my DH to post along with me. I have even decided to slightly alter the title of my blog in hopes of getting more views and comments from like-minded people.


The Tongue Stud. . . my 4th confession

After dinner one restless Wednesday evening, I decided to go out to a cool new Mexican restaurant/bar in our neighborhood. I didn’t specifically go out with the intent to look for a man to play with, rather I just needed to get away for a bit, have a drink, and relax. My DH knew I was headed out, and told me to have fun.

I sat at the bar sandwiched between a mildly rowdy group of young guys, and two couples on a double date. I sat and sipped my margaritas, watched baseball highlights on the monitor behind the bar, and occasionally watched/eavesdropped on the conversation coming from the guys to my right. I really never thought about the possibility of hooking up with any of them, probably because there were 5 or 6 of them, enjoying dinner and a guys’ night out. The more they drank, the louder they got, and I began to smile and enjoy their antics. The more I drank, the less careful I was about concealing my grin and averting my eyes when one of them glanced my way. Eventually, the guy closest to me asked for my opinion about something, and then he bought me a drink. I thanked him and made some small talk before he returned his attention to his pals. When one of his friends noticed my empty glass, they ordered another margarita for me.

At this point I was starting to feel the drinks and had to step away to use the ladies’ room. While I was there, I reapplied my lipstick, tousled my hair, and adjusted my cleavage. That is when it dawned on me – I could probably have my pick of guys from the group! I returned to find a fresh drink waiting for me, and I joined the conversation the guys were having. Mid conversation, I noticed that guy #1 had a pierced tongue, so I asked about it. He told me that he did it ‘for the ladies’. He asked, “Have you ever been kissed with a tongue stud?” To which I coyly replied, “No.” So he leaned over and kissed me. It was a deep, thrilling kiss that stirred up butterflies in my stomach. The stud added a unique feeling to his talented tongue!

Now, ever since my encounter with The Seducer, I have not concealed my marital status, and tonight was no exception. I freely mentioned DH, when one of the guys called my bluff – he observed my naked ring finger. My mind raced back to hours before when I had been working on a messy project at the house, and took my rings off to preserve them! Oh no! These guys thought I was single this whole time! I reassured them that I was indeed happily married, to which one questioned, “Then what are you doing hangin’ with us and kissing him?” I explained the absence of my wedding band, and told them, “My DH knows that I am out at a bar… and variety is the spice of life.” That comment garnered the attention of guy #2, who implored me to explain what I meant. “I don’t kiss and tell,” was all I would tell him. He practically begged for more details and asked a lot of questions. I guess he was all in favor for, and curious about my extramarital activities. Right in the middle of the line of questioning from guy #2, The Tongue Stud pulled me back in for another kiss, and he invited me to join him and the guys at a party or another bar. The idea of traveling to an unknown destination with guys I barely knew intimidated me, so I politely declined, much to the dismay of guy #2. The Tongue Stud hugged me and kissed me goodbye, while guy #2 watched with jealousy. And then they left…

I rushed home to find DH asleep on the couch. I woke him gently, but I was excited to tell him about my night of flirting and kissing. After a brief retelling of my encounter, I gave him a blowjob, and then we moved the fun into the bedroom. The Tongue Stud had gotten me excited and turned on, so I was ready to please DH, and share all the details of my night at the bar, that was our agreement after all...

And a passionate, steamy, and memorable night of sex followed... such a naughty wife...