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)