4.30.2008

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...

4.29.2008

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…

4.07.2008

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...

4.05.2008

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... ?