The increasingly risque confessions of a suburban hotwife

Musing: reflection

2011-11-20T00:01:00.000-08:00

Look in the mirror

and who do you see,
a fragment of someone
who wishes to be
a beautiful person both inside and out,
who's head is on clearly and contains no doubt.

Look in the mirror
and who you will find,
a mixed up ~~kid~~ woman
who's dreams block her mind.
When reason will tell her
to stop on the red,
but something else hidden
makes her plunge ahead.

Look in the mirror
and who you are now,
a naive ~~young girl~~ grown woman
that doesn't know how
to dazzle ~~the boys~~ anyone
or make others stare
but who knows how to love
and knows how to care.
Who is nobody for
this very short time,
but in a few years
her reflection will shine.
~ Xxxxxx Xxxxxxxxx

This poem was written by a classmate that I kind of knew a lifetime ago. I found some old high school stuff while cleaning out the garage recently. When I reread this I remembered how it spoke to me back then, and it still speaks to me now. I feel a connection to the girl in the proverbial mirror even now as a woman, decades later.

My apologies to those who clicked hoping to read something more salacious...

3rd Blogoversary

2011-01-10T03:00:00.000-08:00

Wow, December 29th, my blogoversary, came and went,

and I MISSED IT!

Why?

Because the doctor was making a house call. . .

A booty text ;-) ... My 14th confession

2010-11-21T03:00:00.000-08:00

"Louise, now I may not get texts, I may not send texts,
but trust me the subtext of that text bootay!"
Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City: The Movie

I am sure he knew I'd still be up when he texted me late that night. He made small talk and told me about his day, but I suspected he had other things on his mind. DH suggested that I invite him over, so I did. He accepted my offer. Ah, the subtext of his texts had indeed been a booty call...

I greeted him at my front door wearing next to nothing. He smiled in approval. I led him into a dark room, and crawled onto the bed, revealing my 'commando' status. He expressed his approval by rubbing his warm palms against my cheeks, then spanking me. He knows I like it a little rough...

It didn't take him long to undress. I rocked my bare ass back against him as he dropped his jeans, feeling his hard cock. He reached forward to grab and squeeze my hard nipples. Being teased with his cock against my ass and his hands on my breasts was too much for me. I begged him to fuck me. He tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled my head back to nibble on my neck and shoulder. Then, with a deep thrust, he entered me from behind. The sensation of his sheathed cock filling my wet and wanting pussy made me purr with pleasure.

This was not a slow and sensual encounter like other nights. No, this was assertive, determined, a little rough, and fast. I liked it. I sensed he was close to cumming, so I slid my hand between my legs to finger my self to a stronger orgasm just as he came.

I walked him to the door, then met DH in our bedroom, where I welcomed a second cock in my warm and greedy pussy. The hotwife foreplay had once again paved the way for a steamy scene...

edited on 11/27/10 ... damn I hate typos!

Wondering

2010-10-08T03:00:00.000-07:00

His hands looked strong, yet soft, and his finger was bare.

He was tall and lean, and dressed with an aloof sense of style.

He did and said absolutely nothing to to pique my interest, yet I found myself completely distracted by his presence.

It was the wrong place and time to allow my mind to wander to the 'what ifs', but I could not prevent myself from wondering...

Musing... My Tangled Web

2010-09-12T00:01:00.000-07:00

Oh what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive!
Sir Walter Scott, Marmion, Canto vi. Stanza 17.

There are times when I find myself lost in thought, and Sir Walter Scott’s words strike me and snap me back into reality. They are interesting thoughts, though.
Thoughts of passion, surprise, acceptance, understanding, curiosity, desire, confusion…

These thoughts swirl around in my brain, tug at my conscience, turn me on, make me smile, and make me choose my words carefully depending on to whom I am speaking.

… and that is when I feel like Sir Walter Scott’s words ring true the most. When I am engaged in daily conversations with friends, family, coworkers, or lovers, I must be aware, or else I fear I will become snarled in my own web of deceit. I choose to keep my double life as a hotwife private, so it is a web of my own creation, and a consequence I must manage.

This consequential web was easy to manage when I met men from Ashley Madison or in a bar. I had no ties to them, and each encounter was titillating, yet brief. I could be honest about my reason for meeting them if I desired. Now, however, I find myself in a different situation. Well, two situations actually. Both of which cause me to navigate my web with caution.

I have introduced you to The Doctor, and told about some of my experiences with him. (Yes, dear readers, there is another secret confession about The Doctor that has yet to be told.) I must carefully mind my complicated web when I talk with The Doctor.

I have not confessed anything about my most recent lover, the one that has caused me to reflect on my tangled web the most, and the one I have been with repeatedly. I hesitate assign a moniker for him, for am not sure I can even blog about him. I will say that the attraction we feel for one another is undeniable... and hot!
In the months since our paths first crossed my consequential web has become that much more tangled.

The return of The Doctor... My 13th confession

2010-06-09T03:00:00.000-07:00

In the months since the trip to the cabin, The Doctor and I have kept in more frequent touch via email. After dancing around the subject of what had transpired there, The Doctor playfully acknowledged the fun that he, DH, and I had enjoyed that night by the fire. He respectfully asked if what had occurred had been OK with DH. Without giving away too much information, I let him know that all was well, and that he had helped us satisfy a whim.

I accompanied The Doctor to his hotel room after dinner, drinks, and continuous conversation. The conversation was still flowing as we sat on opposite sides of the queen sized hotel bed, but at this point our words were laden with double entendres. The distance between us slowly narrowed, and The Doctor hinted that a repeat performance would be welcome. Since I am not one to disappoint a friend, I shifted my position and slid my hand over his thighs. He leaned back against the pillows, so I moved closer, bearing my cleavage as my hands traveled over the hardness growing in his slacks. We exchanged a long, knowing look, then without saying a word, I helped him remove his pants and boxers and he helped to remove my blouse and bra.

There we sat, partially clothed and silent, with our gazes locked. Anticipation filled the space between us in the dimly lit room. I leaned over, and began swirling my tongue around the tip of his head. The combination of my brief hand massage and anticipation had engorged his seven-inch cock, causing precum to mingle with the moisture from my mouth. I grasped the base of his rigid cock as I opened my mouth wider to take him in deeper. I eagerly began my oral ministrations, hoping to impress him with my determination to please. I alternated between a pattern of semi-shallow sucking and long licks from his base to his tip, making sure to pay attention to his balls, as well. My efforts were encouraged when The Doctor reached out to cup my breasts and squeeze my hard nipples. His touch felt so good that I was compelled to engulf his entire length, and work towards brining him to an orgasm. The moment his tip reached my throat he began to moan and praise my talents. His sexy sounds and phrases were such a turn on! I felt his cock throb gently against my lips, indicating that he was about to pump his load into my mouth, so I took him in as deep as I could. He groaned and gasped between exclamations of pleasure and praise while I swallowed his cum and licked his tip clean.

Afterwards I reclined on the pillows beside him, feeling very turned on and needing a release of my own. It was late and we were both getting tired, so I took matters into my own hands. I reached across his body and guided his hand to my D cups, and instructed him to grope and squeeze. I unzipped my jeans to allow access to my pussy. With one hand I checked to see if he was ready for round two, and slid my other hand within my pretty pink thong. He seemed to be getting hard, but I need to cum! I abandoned his cock in order to focus all my attention on my wet, pink folds and sensitive clit. I asked him to squeeze and pinch my nipples harder while he watched me play with myself. I was a little self conscious, but I couldn’t hold back my soft moans as I slipped my finger into my pussy and made circles around my hard clit. I would have loved to have felt his mouth on my nipples, but he seemed content to watch the show. Before long I was writhing and whimpering in the throws of my self induced orgasm.

We regrouped and dressed so that The Doctor could walk me out. There was no awkwardness as we hugged goodbye. I texted DH to let him know that I was on my way home, and that I needed his cock…

2010-05-27T00:01:00.000-07:00

...changing my weight on my Ashley Madison profile!

Riff's post today made me realize that I should update my profile on AM to reflect the current, slimmer me. Thanks Riff!

Musing about Ashley Madison...

2010-04-14T21:00:00.000-07:00

Ok, I have a question for the male readers who use AM:

Is there a promotion currently running for male members?
I ask because in the past 48 hours I have received an unusually high volume of messages on AM. I usually get a few winks, a few requests for my photo key, etc..., but just 2 or 3 custom messages each day. The volume of custom messages caught my eye, as well as the other types of contacts, and made me wonder if male members were offered free credits as part of a promotion recently.

I'd love to hear from AM members to learn if other women have noticed that same trend, or if men were offered a promotion of some kind. COMMENT!

PS: What do you think of the updated AM logo?

The Doctor . . . My 12th confession

2010-03-29T03:00:00.000-07:00

After a day by the lake and a BBQ, DH and I were enjoying drinks and conversation with our friend, The Doctor.

The Doctor is an old friend of ours who went through a bitter divorce a year ago. We witnessed the demise of his marriage from afar with perplexed looks on our faces, as this sincerely great guy dealt with things he never thought could ever happen to him. I can easily recall their wedding day, and he is in many of our own wedding photos, standing by DH's side.

That evening at the lake, before dinner, DH mentioned to me in private that he and The Doctor had talked about The Doctor’s new life as a single guy, and how he has not dated anyone yet. He told DH that he’s not ready to date, but he also joked that he wouldn’t turn down a blowjob these days. As it turns out, I recently mentioned to DH that I thought The Doctor was attractive. This admission became the topic of a fantasy in the bedroom for us. Little did we know that the fantasy might become reality…

Candles illuminated the cozy cabin, and a fire blazed in the fireplace as old friends relaxed and enjoyed the ambiance. The three of us reminisced and chatted over nightcaps. It was good to see The Doctor smile, laugh, and relax again after all he had been through. He even talked about a woman who had come on to him a few days earlier. Things were going well, and our conversation evolved into playful banter and innuendo. With embers fading in the fireplace, DH moved close to me and reached under my shirt to play with my nipple. I knew he was testing the waters. He wanted to see how The Doctor would react to the hint of foreplay. DH causally continued massaging my breast and complementing my cleavage, which I had put on display for our day by the lake. The Doctor claimed not to have noticed my beckoning breasts, but it was hard for him to ignore what DH was doing, and the effects it was having on me. The Doctor smiled, and turned away for a moment, but I could tell he was drawn to our playful activity. His response was encouraging, so I started to flirt just a little with our friend.

Then, DH began to get more affectionate with me, daring to kiss my neck and expose more of my cleavage. I was not immune to DH's attention. I am sure my skin was flushed as I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensation. When I opened my eyes, I saw The Doctor watching us from across the coffee table with a bashful grin. I made eye contact with The Doctor as DH kissed his way down my neck to my chest. He averted his eyes, so I told him it was OK to watch. He replied with nervous laughter, which made me think carefully about how to proceed. I could tell that his interest was piqued, but we needed to take things gently. DH seemed to sense it too, so he let me take the lead. The Doctor and I maintained eye contact while DH touched and kissed me. I used a come hither motion to entice The Doctor to join us but he declined. I whispered assurances that he was welcome to join the fun, but he remained in his chair, enjoying the show. The Doctor watched for a while, then DH removed my shirt and bra, completely exposing my chest, boldly kicking things up a notch. The Doctor seemed to like what he saw.

DH whispered in my ear, "You should give him a blowjob."
"I would, but he won't even get close."

DH trailed kisses down my neck, ending on my right breast. He lingered there, teasing my nipple. I looked The Doctor in the eye and said, "It's alright, you can touch, too."

"No, DH is doing a good job on his own."

We carried on like that for a few more minutes. The Doctor watched as DH lavished attention on my breasts and kissed me passionately. I repeatedly met The Doctor's gaze, and again, tried to lure him with a come hither wiggle of my pointer finger. Eventually, The Doctor moved closer.

He moved to my left side so that I was sandwiched between the two of them, and trailed a gentle circle around my left nipple with his finger. I let out a soft moan and relished the attention I was receiving from two men at the same time. DH and I kissed as each of them held, squeezed, massaged, and adored my D cups. I slid my arm around The Doctor’s shoulder and gasped when I felt his lips and tongue finally tease my nipple. I cannot begin to describe the amazing sensation of having both breasts licked, sucked and nibbled by two men, each with their own style and tempo, yet harmoniously arousing me to a new level. With my head thrown back and my hands rubbing their necks and backs, sexy moans and noises escaped my lips.

I was lost in the passion; thoroughly enjoying the way DH was sharing me with our friend. This was a dynamic of hotwifing that I had hoped to experience, but never knew if it would be possible.

There was a break in the activity, and DH and I exchanged a look that communicated so much. I knew that he wanted a to watch me with The Doctor, and based on their afternoon conversation, I knew that a blowjob was in order. I wanted to please him in a way that he had been missing for too long. DH wandered to the kitchen to give me a moment with Doc. I positioned myself in front of The Doctor, looking him in the eye as my hand reached for his waistband.

“What do you think you are doing?” he implored.
“You’re not going to turn down a blowjob, are you?” I answered his question with a question.
“Will your husband mind?”
“Honey,” I called over my shoulder, “is it OK with you if I give The Doctor a blowjob?”
DH reentered the room, and replied, “Go right ahead, sweetie,” and then crossed the room to a place that I assumed would afford him a view of the action without intruding on us.

I unbuttoned and unzipped The Doctor’s shorts, then slid my palms inside his waistband and against his hips and ass to lower his bottoms. My hands wandered and teased his growing cock through his boxer briefs. I loved the look of his cock straining underneath the thin fabric, enlarged and hard from my ministrations. Sensations of power and arousal consumed me and I focused my attention on him. I released his cock from his underwear, pleased to see his 7 inches spring free. I teased the head with my fingertips, then made a trail down to the shaft where I wrapped my warm hand around him. I licked up and down his cock then guided him into my mouth. I took as much of him in as I could, sucking and stroking his hardness. I alternated between licking and sucking and using my hand to provide pleasure. I could taste his precum when I cupped his balls and swirled my tongue around the tip of his penis. For a man who had not had sex a quite a long while, he had amazing stamina and control. When I sensed his climax approaching, I aimed his cock towards my chest and felt his warm cum splash onto my waiting tits. It was a scene I knew DH would enjoy. The mood among the three of us was light and carefree while I cleaned myself up and The Doctor put his clothes back on. I think he was still a bit astonished by the events that had just taken place.

It was late, so we all retired to our proper bedrooms, but DH and I were far from ready to sleep. The events of the night had served as a tantalizing and extended session of foreplay that would not go to waste. DH eagerly removed the rest of my clothing and began to devour me. Between kissing and sucking one another we exchanged breathy whispers of what had happened with The Doctor. It was a night we would revisit for many nights to come…

T'was the night after Valentine's Day...

2010-02-23T05:00:00.000-08:00

... and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Well, that's not 100% true. DH's cock was stirring!
Our Valentine romance was delayed by a day due to work schedules and family obligations, so on Monday night, I decided to surprise DH. I slipped into comfortable clothes, but I had on some peek-a-boo lingerie from the kind folks at The Adult Toy Shoppe hidden underneath!

We were relaxing on the couch, and began getting cozy. I could tell that DH did not expect to find anything sexy underneath my lounging attire, and as his hands roamed over my breasts, he gave me a curious, raised eyebrow look.

As things heated up, there was plenty of kissing, fondling, and sexy talk. When DH removed my shirt, he found this cute little number...

I have wanted an open cup bra for quite some time, so when Jamie from The Adult Toy Shoppe offered me an opportunity to sample a product, I searched for one. Although I did not find an open cup bra, I did find this peek-a-boo set.

Peek-A-Boo Bra & G-String
Love this sexy lace bikini style ensemble and look your best for that special sexual encounter! The gorgeous delicate lace peek-a-boo style bikini top has decadent pink ribbon trim where your sexy nipples can peek through. The stretchy elastic straps allow for a comfortable fit. Sexy bows add a flirty flair!
The thong g-string bottoms are also lace with a stretchy elastic waist band, and is also decorated with supple pink ribbon. Stop any man in his tracks with this gorgeous two piece enchantress ensemble!
The panty stretches to fit up to a 38 inch waist and the bra fits up to a 36 inch chest.

This cute black and pink g-string and bra offer access to all my girly bits through sexy peek-a-boo openings, which DH and I liked, but the openings for my nipples are not quite as wide as the photo on the website indicated. I like this set, and would recommend it for cup sizes A-C.

Jamie was very helpful & patient, and my item arrived in a simple and discreet box. The website offers a wide variety of products, and I am sure my readers will be just as satisfied as I am should they choose to shop at The Adult Toy Shoppe!

The Traveling Man Mystery

2010-01-31T02:00:00.000-08:00

Q: What is The Traveling Man feature?
A: Business travel is a reality for many of us...and truthfully there is no better time to pursue a little-something-on-the-side than when you are hundreds of miles away from your significant other...so to that end, we have created a brand new service titled Traveling Man, which allows you to send a custom priority message to up to 40 female members in the city you are visiting. Simply tell us the type of women you are seeking by age, ethnicity and the location you want to meet in and we will bring the women to you!
Best of all - you save 100s of credits, time and money; courtesy of your friends at Ashley Madison.
To view a receipt of messages sent to members for your upcoming trip, select mailbox then click Traveling Man.

Ah ha! This explains SO MUCH!

For months I have been getting message with a suitcase icon as seen below. When I roll my mouse over the icon, it simply says, this member is traveling to your city. It never occurred to me to research any further, until I began to get so many messages from traveling men.

I began replying to a few of these traveling men, declining their obviously generic offers, before I learned the details of the feature. It was thanks to one of the senders that I learned how these men were able to send a mass message to women who met their criteria.

So, that is when I decided to add a poll to my sidebar. Here are the results:

AM users: Do you know what the "Traveling Man" option is for messaging,and if so, do you like it?

Women: never heard of it = 11%
Women: heard of it and don't mind = .5%
Women: heard of it and dislike it = 2%
Men: never heard of it = 70%
Men: use it and like it = .5%
Men: know about it but don't use it = 14%

Well, I guess that the men who have contacted me do not read this blog! The reason that I dislike this messaging option is because Ashley Madison is choosing me for these men, not the men themselves. I would like to think that a man has read my profile and likes me and what I wrote in my introduction, not just my height, weight, age, and ZIP code!

Ashley Madison and the Traveling Man

2010-01-21T19:22:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!

I was recently faced with a situation on AM that I'd like your opinion on.
Please check out the poll on my side bar and reply if you use AM.

Thanks!

2nd Blogoversary!

2009-12-28T23:20:00.000-08:00

I cannot believe that 2 years ago I was brave
enough to begin these chronicles!

What began as a diary of sorts for DH has become so much more. It is a creative outlet for me, and a place to 'talk' openly about my double life. I have also been fortunate enough to become friends with many readers and other bloggers, a benefit I never anticipated, but have truly enjoyed! Many readers remained loyal despite my hiatus and subsequent rants and PSA. Thank you for taking the time to read my posts, leave comments and contact me via email!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

During these past two years I have posted confessions about nine encounters/lovers...
2008:
The Dirty Dancer
The Nerd
The Seducer
The Tongue Stud
The Italian Kisser
The Pilot

2009:
The Renaissance Man
The Tech Guy
Mrs. UnVanilla

So what do I have in store for 2010?

Well, there are a few hotwife endeavors I have yet to post about, and with 2009 quickly coming to an end, those confessions will have to wait until next year. Cheers, and Happy New Year!

Mrs. UnVanilla. . . My 11th confession

2009-12-28T02:01:00.000-08:00

Things are about to get interesting!!

During our time at the bar, DH was texting both of us to find out how we were and what we were up to. One of his texts to me read, “You two could always come home and make out by the tree… so festive!” I knew that he was hoping to see a repeat of our kiss months ago. Shortly after that, she and I bundled up to leave. As she drove to my neighborhood I invited her in for one more drink, and texted DH to whip up some cocktails. The drinks were ready when we arrived, and DH had lit candles and the tree was a glow. The scene was set…

We sat down on the couches and chatted for a while. DH was the one to get things started by complimenting Mrs. UnVanilla’s lovely cleavage, peeking out from her V-neck sweater. She proudly thrust her chest out and invited him to touch, which he gladly did. I scooted closer to them in hopes of getting in on the action. DH nudged her sweater aside and cupped one of her breasts. He motioned for me to touch also. I looked her in the eye for a sign of approval. Her sexy grin let me know it was OK. We both enjoyed feeling her breasts and playing with her nipples, and her soft sounds were an indication that she was enjoying the attention. DH was sitting between us, so he had a good view as she and I leaned in to kiss one another. Our lips and tongues touched as DH massaged our breasts and rolled our nipples between his fingers. In tandem they adjusted my blouse and bra so that my ample breasts were accessible through my own V-neck. The feeling of DH cupping and sucking on one breast as she squeezed and massaged the other one was delightful!

To say that I was turned on would be an understatement! I boldly shifted my position so that I could take her breast in my mouth. What fun it was to swirl my tongue around her nipple and feel her full B cups in my hands! DH was enjoying the sexy show put on before him, but he was respectful of her limits. He and I kissed with passion as the 3 of us continued to play. I decided that I wanted to see and touch more of her, so I tugged her sweater off over her head, and her bra flowed suit. I licked, sucked and squeezed both of her breasts with delight! There was a subtle and nice pattern of switching back and forth from DH and I focusing all our attention on her, to the two of them touching and sucking my chest. Two mouths on my breasts at once felt amazing!

I slid my hand over her jean-clad thigh, inching closer and closer to her apex. I was suddenly consumed with the thought of touching her pink folds. As the kissing, touching and sucking carried on, my free hand continued to gently rub and squeeze her thighs. She did not resist. During a moment when we paused for air, I told her that I wanted to make her cum. I knew that going any further than we already had would defy Mr. UnVanilla’s wishes, but I said it anyway. She glanced at the clock and whispered, “I need to go, but you two should keep having fun.” I protested, but DH helped her stand up and gather her clothes. He walked her to her car while I waited on the floor by the Christmas tree.

Just as DH had predicted, it had been fun and festive to make out by the tree, and he and I picked up where the 3 of us left off…

PS: Today marks my 2 year Blogoversary! December has always been a good hotwife month for me... as you will see from my next confession!

Allow me to introduce you to Mrs. UnVanilla...

2009-12-23T12:30:00.000-08:00

Mrs. UnVanilla is a friend of mine. We met through work, and meet up for dinner and drinks, Pampered Chef parties, and the like. A few months ago she and her husband invited our family over for a BBQ. It was the first time the husbands had met, and thankfully they got along well. DH did not know Mrs. UnVanilla very well up to that point, but in the months since that BBQ we have all enjoyed more outings together.

Somewhere along the way we learned that Mrs. UnVanilla has a bit of a wild and sexy side, hence her nickname, UnVanilla! Upon learning about some of her interests and activities, we began to share hints and tidbits of my double life. Neither side has fully disclosed 100% of their secrets, but we all enjoy exchanging innuendoes on date nights. Each husband has playfully groped the other’s wife, and she and I both like to flaunt our assets when we go out.

Perhaps I should mention that Mrs. UnVanilla is turned on by women as well as men, and I have recently rediscovered my bi-curious side. In fact, she is one of the women I kissed a few months back (a scene DH wishes he could have witnessed!).

She and I made plans to meet for dinner and drinks a few nights ago. After a hellish week of work and holiday preparations, I was truly looking forward to a fun evening. It wasn’t long before our conversation turned to sex, and I shared a bit more of my adventures (but not TOO much!). I learned that although her husband is turned on by her wild side, there are boundaries in place for her. I can respect those boundaries, but that dashed my hopes of having a partner in crime!

We both shared that our husbands would be open to a FMF threesome with us.
Hmmm… the possibilities...
...but their boundaries preclude her from playing with a man without Mr. UnVanilla present. Girl on girl kissing and breast-play are, however, allowed in his absence!

Things are about to get interesting!!

Time out for humor!

2009-11-23T00:01:00.000-08:00

I have talked to a few other bloggers about the need for special occasion cards that Hallmark will never make.

For example, wouldn't it be nice to be able to buy and send a card that said...

"Congratulations on having your first threesome!"

"Thank you for sharing your husband's hard cock!"

"Happy Blog-o-versary!"

"I kissed a girl and I liked it. Wanna try it again?"

"You are invited to my orgy!"

someecards offers a wide range of e-cards with inappropriately funny messages, like these, and you can create your own, too!

I know that some of my readers stop by for my ~~smutty~~ intimate sexual confessions, so this one caught my attention-

Oh, and for those of you who were hoping that this new post was going to be one of those ~~smutty~~ intimate sexual confessions, stay tuned...

Musing: How kinky is too kinky for you?

2009-11-14T11:45:00.000-08:00

OK, since you are reading my blog, which happens to include sexual content, I am going to say you are at least a little open minded when it comes to sex. I am still exploring the boundaries of my sexual comfort zone, and while I am not as vanilla as I once was, I would not consider myself kinky. I own battery operated devices that bring me pleasure, I have kissed women, dabbled in threesomes, been watched by DH as I performed a blowjob, and had sex outside of my marriage. While these things may push the envelope for some, in my realm they are exciting and racy, but not what I consider kinky.

So why have I asked, how kinky is too kinky for you?

Well, I have been in contact with a fellow I met through Ashley Madison for the past week or so. He found me, and right off the bat said he thinks I am perfect for him. My AM profile does not reveal my status as a hotwife. I prefer to share that detail in person, or at least after getting to know a man via email exchanges and chats. He sent unsolicited nude photos in his third email to me, and he was overly excited when I revealed during a chat that DH allows and encourages me to seek sexual fun outside of our vows. Both of these sent little red flags up in my mind, which I am acutely aware of since The Tech Guy, but since his face photo was attractive and he has a sexy accent, I maintained contact with him.

Our emails dwindled a bit after that chat due to busy schedules, so I was blown away when I read a message last night that included a suggestion of incestuous sexual activity. Whoa! Where did that come from?!? My impression of him immediately changed from 'eager' to 'too kinky' and I am in the midst of composing a polite yet firm email to tell him that I am no longer interested on meeting him.

So back to my question... I know that deviant sexual behavior is on the rise (see related article @ ABC news ), but how kinky is too kinky for you?

Kisses: a new confession

2009-11-09T00:01:00.000-08:00

I love to kiss.

Part of the thrill of the chase for me is experiencing a new kiss. I enjoy the way a new lover connects their lips to mine for the first time. A good kiss can make the butterflies in my stomach flutter and send a thrilling tingle to my girly bits. A long satisfying kiss that sets the tone and mood is amazing.

Teasing.
Lips parting.
Passion building.
Tongues touching.
Getting lost in the moment.
Feeling them suck on my lower lip.
Capturing their lips in mine playfully.
Each person exploring new sensations as hand begin to roam.

I recently enjoyed such a kiss with a new lover. After a long break from any hotwife fun, I was thrilled to get back in the game! Did I mention that I shared this kiss with another woman? I have toyed with bisexual fantasies for years, but never found a suitable time, place or person with whom to pursue the fantasy. Now that I have, I must be cliché and say this...
"I kissed a girl and I liked it!"

PS: The night after that kiss I kissed another woman. This might be habit forming!

Ashley Madison pitfalls: The Tech Guy... my 10th confession

2009-10-19T04:00:00.000-07:00

Last spring, I ventured into the Ashley Madison arena again. My profile had been dark for weeks, but one day I had time on my hands, so I logged into the pretty purple site to see who might be out there. I decided to tweak my preferences and turn-ons and add a picture, on the advice of a kind friend, and then I waited to see who would contact me.

The next time I logged in, the volume of winks, messages, private showcase keys, and priority messages filling my inbox shocked me! (Riff does know his stuff!) I weeded through them all in hopes of finding a gem among them. I replied to The Tech Guy, who would be on my town for work the next week. We exchanged photos, but he was a man of few words - our messages were short (this should have been a red flag!). We made plans to meet at his hotel.

I was extremely nervous, which should have been another red flag, but we chatted and then went to his room. There was no wooing. There were long lulls in conversation. He eventually initiated contact, so I held hope that he'd be good in bed, but we never kissed, which also should have been a red flag, since I usually enjoy kissing a new lover.

Meh.

It wasn't great sex, but it wasn't awful sex. He enjoyed my enthusiasm as he practiced his oral skills on me, but I was confused when my oral ministries failed. Eventually, The Tech Guy was ready for more, but it was... meh. I did however learn that certain prescribed medications might inhibit a man from reaching orgasm. On the bright side, the hotel room was lovely, and the bed was comfy. I took in many details while he pounded me from behind for what seemed like hours. I even mentally drafted a post about him during the encounter.

The experience was enough to make me take down my AM profile again. I thought it was still dark last June, when I got a lengthy message from The Traveler...

(Curious about my history? 4 old posts have been republished!)

Ashley Madison 101: the plural greeting

2009-10-12T05:00:00.001-07:00

Welcome to SuburbanHotwife's seminar for men who are hoping to hook up via AshleyMadison.com!

As my fellow bloggers Hubman and Another Suburban Mom (a sweet swinging couple) can attest, it is all in the introduction. It does not matter if you are a swinger, or looking for a little something on the side, if you don't use the right advertising techniques, you won't get lucky.

Case in point, I don't reply to men to use this in the subject line or begin their letters in the following manner:
"Hi Ladies! I am looking for..."

WRONG! I don't know if you can send an email to the masses when you are a full member on AM, but I for one do not reply to men who lump me into a group of potential lovers. Sure, I know you are probably contacting other women besides me (I do read Riff after all) but why make that fact so evident in your subject line? There is a simple trick known as "copy and paste" that would be handy in a situation like this. I understand that you may not want to take the time and personalize your letter to me to let me know you actually read my profile, even though that would score points with me (that could be a subject of a future seminar!), but a plural greeting will not garner a reply from me.

Thank you!

2009-10-05T05:00:00.000-07:00

I am humbled by the warm reception and greetings from many readers and fans! I enjoyed hearing from old cyber friends and meeting new ones. I am still not one hundred percent sure of the direction this blog will take, but after testing the waters, I am wading into the shallow end of this blog-pool. I wish I could tease you with juicy tidbits of an untold hotwife confession, but there are none to tell. Instead, I will share my Ashley Madison pitfalls in upcoming posts. Ladies, you may get a laugh or two from my unsatisfying experiences. Gentlemen, you should have your pen and paper ready to take notes if you are AM members.

In the meantime, I have republished my first 3 posts to provide newcomers with my history and introduction. Happy reading!

Testing the waters...

2009-09-21T06:00:00.000-07:00

Ok folks, did your jaw hit the floor when you saw my blog updated on the blogroll you use as your hub for smut? Or better yet, did I knock you off your seat? It would please me to no end to know that more than a few of you are shocked, yet pleased, to see a post from me, even if it is not filled with a risqué confession. Let's just say, I am dipping my toe in the blog waters to see if any of my old fans and cyber friends still remember who I am. (Hint, hint... leave a comment to let me know my endeavors are still worthy of entertaining you!)

It has been 6 months to the day since I last posted anything. 6 months of reflection, confusion, some worry, and some sadness, but in the end, I have rediscovered joy and satisfaction in my life. There were days when I was glad that I did not have posts to draft, and days I had to suppress the urge to write. Writing has always been an outlet for me. I love painting a picture with words, as it gives me personal and creative satisfaction. To know that people were actually reading my tales multiplied my satisfaction. So, I feel like I am in a place to begin writing again.

I have been asked if I am still a hotwife. Yes, but as old fans can attest, my hotwife activities have always been rather erratic, and nothing has changed in that department, but I did take a hiatus for a while. There were no risqué confessions racked up in those 6 months, just a few disappointing AM situations. This leads me to wonder if I should change the name of this blog... something to think about.

I have also been asked to repost old confessions. I am considering this request, but not promising anything.

So, as long as I have your attention, is there anyone out there as fascinated with Riff and Eva as I am? I have been feverishly reading her blog to get caught up, and I have the urge to comment on their story like a sportscaster on the 50-yard line of a football field! I wish I had been the lucky blog-gal to discover his AM profile... just sayin'!

But I digress... my toe is in the water... should I take the plunge in?

Breaking my silence

2009-03-21T16:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers,
I am not sure if I am fully prepared to end my hiatus, but I feel guilty for not responding to the MANY comments and emails that I have received in the past 5 weeks. So, I will re-enter the blogosphere...

My Hiatus:
I went dark for a few reasons. The dichotomy had been tugging at my conscience for a while. I am a wife, mother, daughter, [career title], and friend. And while the double life can be quite thrilling, I am reminded of the immorality of my actions at the most inconvenient moments (... in church... in the gynecologist's office... you get the picture). A few people who read the blog even emailed me to point out that by meeting a man on Ashley Madison, I was in essence "The Other Woman". Gee, thanks.
Then there was one night when DH and I had a little misunderstanding, and that sent me into a funk, so I shut things down for a while. We talked about it later and things are fine, but the desire to blog was not there.

Thanks:
Thank you to those who sent well wishes and kind words. Your support did not go unnoticed. To thank you for your kindness, I want to send a shout out and some extra blogosphere traffic over to Hubman, Riff, Southern Swinger, Tony, Quiet Man, Scandalous Housewife, Whitenoise, Me, Bacon, Krazy, Bullwinkle, JessTess, Kyra, Mike, Infidelity_Curiousity, Guardian, Naughty Girl, Ocean Sailor, Jenna, and Cheri.
To those of you who do not have blogs, thank you for commenting and/or coming out of the wood work! A few of you even created accounts just to leave me a comment - THANKS! (Apologies to anyone I left off the list!) I would be remiss if I failed to thank those of you who follow this blog, DESPITE the lack of new posts. My list of followers grew considerably over the last month... go figure!

My response:
One of the overwhelming topics among the comments/emails was the suggestion to screen comments before they get published on the blog. For the most part, I have not had issues with the content of the comments. There was a brief period when I did censor comments because of a 'spammer', but he is long gone. In the di-chot-o-my post I said ... I have come to realize that the majority of my readers are simply horny people looking for a decent sex blog to read for pleasure. Those types of messages were all via private email, not posted comments, but for some reason some readers misunderstood. I appreciate the support of those who partake in alternative lifestyles, as well as those who are curious about hotwives and swinging, and I welcome their comments in my suburbia. I no longer judge adulterers so harshly, and their support on here is welcome, too. What I found to be hurtful were the crude emails I received from others.

About the PSA:
Yes, DH is fully aware of all my confessions. We communicate about all aspects of my endeavors. But, what some of my readers failed to consider or recognize was that I live in fear of being discovered in real life. DH and my lovers are the only people who know my identity and my extramarital affairs. (I do not tell my lovers about this blog, and they know me only by my pseudonym). If a family member, friend, or coworker were to learn of my double life I would deleted the blog entirely and cease all acts of infidelity. I may have sounded too harsh when I published the PSA, but I needed to communicate the need for care, respect, and understanding in times of trouble.

So, where does this leave me?
Well, I know I owe you all the conclusion of confession about The Renaissance Man. I am not ready to blog about that night yet. You see, I allowed myself to talk openly to him about my career, family, and my life, which made me feel vulnerable. That vulnerable feeling is causing writer's block whenever I try to pen my confession about our date in a hotel room. I am sure it is hard for you to understand, because it is hard for me to explain, but it is what it is.

So, if you are willing to put up with me, stick around. I am like Punxsutawney Phil, the groundhog: I saw my shadow and I was compelled to retreat. I am not ready to emerge, but check back in the future...

xoxo,
SuburbanHotwife

di⋅chot⋅o⋅my

2009-02-11T18:15:00.000-08:00

1. division into two parts, kinds, etc.; subdivision into halves or pairs.
2. division into two mutually exclusive, opposed, or contradictory groups:
a dichotomy between thought and action.

I am struggling with my double life.

On one hand I am a mother, wife, professional in my career, and friend. On the other I live out what was once a sexual fantasy, spoken of only in the dark of the night in my bedroom. The conflict I feel within myself has been nagging at my conscious more than usual of late.
No apologies, just an explanation for my brief absence, and the ((probably) temporary) omission of my confessions.

And speaking of my absence, I feel compelled to post this

Public Service Announcement:

When an infidelity/sex blog suddenly goes dark, it often spells one thing, t-r-o-u-b-l-e.

In my case, the trouble is internal, not something more serious. I was prepared to receive a few emails from blogging friends when I decided to restrict access to my blog. What I did not plan on, were numerous requests for blog invitations from people who rarely, or never, commented/emailed previously (and some of those people were pretty pushy, sending multiple requests!). I did the math, and only 13% of the messages in my inbox expressed a concern about my well-being. Am I looking for pity? No, but I have come to realize that the majority of my readers are simply horny people looking for a decent sex blog to read for pleasure. This epiphany has made me consider using the privacy option, inviting only long time cyber-friends.

For now, the privacy option has been removed, but all other confessions are hidden, until I feel back in the swing of things.

The Renaissance Man... reflections on my 8th confession

2009-01-19T10:30:00.000-08:00

In the nights (and days!) since my date with The Renaissance Man, DH and I have been enjoying a renewed passion! There are a few noteworthy things worth adding to the confession about The Renaissance Man:

-As a freshman in the infidelity arena, The Renaissance Man has not worked out all of his details yet:

He does not have a secret email address.
Nor does he have a mischief phone. I desperately wished I could refer him to Riff's blog for lessons on how to have an affair. (Of course if I shared Riff's actual blog The Renaissance Man might find this little suburbia - which I am not prepared for.)
He did not consider having condoms with him. (but how was he to know that I was practically a sure thing!)

-I was surprised by the fact that I enjoyed a sense of submission when I gave The Renaissance Man a blowjob. I am not accustomed to performing a blowjob to a man while he stands and I kneel, and feeling his hips bump and grind near my face.

-The ebb and flow of seduction between us was seamless. Power and submission... Leading and following... Seducing and being seduced...

-I find myself wondering if The Renaissance Man will contact me again, as this situation is different than the bar scene I am used to.

-I am learning just how powerful the human mind is in regards to sexuality. The mere mention of him can make me wet!

DH and I have had frequent, honest conversations about hotwifing, and how we are as a couple as a result of this lifestyle. The verdict? Our sex life is better than ever!

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

2009-01-10T14:40:00.000-08:00

I texted DH to let him know I was on my way home…

When I got home, I found DH waiting for me in our bedroom. I was excited to relay all the sexy details about my date, and of course, ask him about listening in via the phone.

We always enjoy excitement, heat and passion when I get home from a hotwife date. I climbed on top of DH to straddle him as I began to weave my sexy story amid deep tongue kisses and groping. Given that I had called DH to tell him where I was going, along with the phone call, I was certain DH knew that I had been fucked, but I enjoyed detailing exactly what The Renaissance Man and I had done with each other. He was particularly curious to hear the play by play of the phone portion of the night.

Then he asked me, “Do you want your pussy eaten for a second time, by another man?” I willingly laid back and opened my legs for him. DH has amazing oral talents. His skill, coupled with my heightened arousal and extreme moisture, made my orgasm that much stronger and more satisfying than usual.

Now it was time for DH’s pleasure. I was eager to take him into my mouth and perform my second blowjob of the night. Thoughts of DH listening while I had done the same to The Renaissance Man added to my enjoyment as I licked, sucked teased, and coaxed the man that I love to an orgasm.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

We began our journey into this lifestyle nearly 5 years ago. I have to say that this experience was ideal in my mind for many reasons:

There was chemistry and respect between The Renaissance Man and me
I was able to fulfill DH’s fantasy of listening in
I was treated to stellar sexual passion and pleasure by not one, but TWO men
I can honestly say, “I had my cake and ate it, too!”

DH loves me, and allows me to explore a sexual awakening, which brings pleasure to both of us. There are times when the dichotomy of our situation strikes me, and I have to take it all in with perspective. I NEVER thought that we would arrive at this level of sexual exploration and enjoyment…
I never thought that I would be a hotwife!

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

2009-01-03T09:35:00.000-08:00

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

The Renaissance Man quickly unarmed the alarm and led me through the lobby toward his office. He created ambient light in the solitude of darkness by turning on the computer monitor. I removed my coat and dropped it along with my purse on a chair across from his desk, then sat in the other, empty chair. He lamented the fact that he did not have a couch for us, but in my mind it did not matter (at least we were not in a car… ).

He knelt before me and we resumed kissing with more passion and vigor. My hands slid through his hair and trailed down his shoulders, while his started on my hips but quickly slipped under my blouse to find my breasts. Before I knew it, my bra was uncomfortably askew, so I reached behind my back to release the hooks. Together we removed my blouse and bra. What followed was a lengthy and tender worship on my ample, natural bosom. His tongue swirled around each nipple while his hands gently kneaded and supported my breasts, and it was driving me wild!

The Renaissance Man stood up, and I immediately unfastened his belt buckle and jeans. Now it was my turn to kneel and return some oral worship! Once his stiff cock was free from all clothing, my tongue teased his head and my right hand cupped his balls. I used my left hand to guide his dick into my mouth, starting with just the head. I looked up to see his face, but it was too dark. His moans encouraged me to continue, and his fingers became tangled in my hair. I took him deeper into my mouth, sucking and licking down his length. After a while his hips began to thrust and his hand pushed my head and mouth further down his shaft. I knew that I wanted to fuck him, so I stopped before he came.

Without words, The Renaissance Man seemed to understand, so he lowered himself to the floor by my side. “Do you have a condom, or should I grab the one I brought?” I asked in a breathy voice.

He chuckled in an embarrassed kind of way, then replied, “No, I don’t have one… I wasn’t expecting…” his voice trailed off.

I sat in the chair again so that I could reach my bag. While I fumbled for it underneath our discarded clothes, The Renaissance Man removed my jeans and black thong. He pleasured my clit with his tongue and slid a finger into my very wet naughty bits. “God you are so wet,” he whispered with delight. I stretched to retrieve my purse and quickly found the Trojan in the outer pocket, just where I had placed it during the drive over from the restaurant. I opened it but asked him to put it on because it was too dark for me to see what I was doing. We both agreed that condoms are an annoying necessity in the game of infidelity.

“How do you want it?” I asked, shocked by how whorish I sounded. We both kind of laughed, then he told me that he’d like me on my hands and knees. I felt him easily, yet firmly enter me from behind with skillful thrusts. I moaned and squealed with pleasure as his hips gained speed and depth. It did not take long for him to cum, and we collapsed into a seated spooning position. He hugged me from behind and reached around my front to fondle my breasts and rub my clit, bringing me close to an orgasm.

“Is there something you’d like me to do for you?” he whispered.

I paused, thinking about DH’s request. I really wasn’t sure how The Renaissance Man would react, so I almost did not ask.

“What…?” he asked again, sensing I was holding back. “Can I eat your pussy?”

“Would you mind if my husband listened while you did?”

“Dial away!”

So I did. I found my phone in my purse and pressed the speed dial button. I set the open phone on the chair beside us, and lay back on the floor. The Renaissance Man was waiting as I opened my legs, inviting him to taste my juices. I writhed as his tongue and fingers masterfully pleasured me. I purred with delight and called out his name, knowing that we had an audience. The Renaissance Man was truly talented! He made me twist and squirm until I bucked and cried out with an orgasm.

I had to show my appreciation, and wanted to keep the show going for a little longer, so I crawled to The Renaissance Man and once again took his cock into my mouth. I felt him grow hard again while I licked and sucked. We both knew that we had used my only condom, so I turned over and asked him to shoot his load onto my ass. He used one hand on himself and the other on me. He made me gasp and moan when he slid his fingers into my wet walls. We both came again, and were weak in the knees. I closed the phone. The show was over, and The Renaissance Man had to get home soon. I am sure that he had not planned on such a naughty field trip when he created his alibi.

While we dressed and gathered our coats and belongings, The Renaissance Man said that he’d like to repeat our rendezvous. Just before we walked out the door, I stood very close to him, gently caressed his jaw line and told him that I respected his situation, and that I would leave it up to him to contact me. Then we kissed one last time. He set the alarm and locked up. We quickly said our final goodbyes and went to our separate cars and drove away.

I texted DH to let him know I was on my way home…

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

2008-12-31T23:59:00.000-08:00

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)

2008-12-29T10:30:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-28T15:00:00.000-08:00

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…

Bloggiversary!

2008-12-28T10:24:00.000-08:00

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

2008-09-27T22:45:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-14T02:10:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-30T12:30:00.000-07:00

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,
~SuburbanHotwife
;-)

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

2008-08-14T20:15:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-08T11:59:00.001-07:00

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.
*groan*
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.
“Uh-hu.”
*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.
*ahhh*
“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.
*mmm*
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

2008-08-07T14:10:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-17T23:20:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-10T02:27:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-18T22:30:00.000-07:00

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...

(blush)

Musing: Craigslist email

2008-06-14T23:20:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-30T00:40:00.000-07:00

…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

2008-04-29T14:34:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-07T21:25:00.000-07:00

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...

2008-04-05T21:25:00.000-07:00

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

2008-02-24T02:14:00.000-08:00

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...

2008-02-17T09:35:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-14T23:38:00.000-08:00

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...

The Seducer. . . my 3rd confession

2007-12-30T23:38:00.000-08:00

Many months had passed since my last failed mission, and we had moved to a new town. One night, after a busy evening of last minute holiday shopping, I decided to stop for a glass of wine before heading home. DH had found a great bar inside of a hotel not too far from our neighborhood, so I figured I'd go there to unwind. I had no hidden agenda or plan that night - I just wanted to relax before going home.
When I arrived, it was clear that this place was uncommonly quiet. I am sure it was due to the fact that it was mid-week right before Christmas. I sat down, ordered a glass of wine, and lit up a cigarette (yes at this point in my life I kept a hidden stash handy in case the mood struck me). I was one of only a handful of patrons for quite a while before a man sat down a few stools away from me at the bar. We sat parallel and rather unaware of each other for a long time before he initiated a conversation with me. I am not even sure I can remember what small talk we exchanged at first. Then it dawned on me... he was flirting with me! Opportunity was sitting right beside me, I had had been totally clueless! DH texted me to see if I was OK. After all, this had been a chance encounter when all I had planned to do was have a drink, and it was getting late. I returned his message, telling him what was happening while my drinking mate was in the restroom. DH's response?... Have fun, but to come home to tell him all about it.

I began to take note of the stranger's appearance and features. He was older, and kind of reminded me of an actor I had always thought was attractive. At some point I felt the wine go to my head, as I allowed him to move closer and talk seductively to me. I returned his flirtatious advances with coy, breathy responses as I batted my eyelashes at The Seducer. He bought more drinks; I began acting bolder. I learned that he was staying at the hotel while in town for business. We shared that we were both married. He asked what DH would think if he knew that I was spending time with another man. Instead of replying, I showed him the text from DH, to which The Seducer just smiled like the Cheshire Cat. I learned that this would not be The Seducer's first extramarital encounter. In fact, he had been with two women at once in a previous escapade. I was intrigued by his history, and leaned in closer to hear every sexy detail. We exchanged light kisses during breaks in our conversation. He whispered compliments into my ear as he guided my hand to his lap, where I discovered that my charm had aroused The Seducer. WOW! What power I suddenly felt! I could not believe that I could evoke this response just by flirting and exchanging double entendres with The Seducer. Of course, he had made the first move, and done most of the wooing while I willingly joined in. I was also feeling aroused, drunk with power and wine! I am sure that I blushed when I realized that I was being seduced and that he wanted to do more than just talk. It was so late, that the bartender had to ask us to leave so he could close up. We walked out toward the hotel lobby, when The Seducer invited me up to his room. I told him that I was not ready to join him upstairs, but I'd be willing to take a walk around for a little while. He agreed, and we walked for a bit. We found ourselves investigating an area undergoing remodeling. It was to be a swanky ultra lounge, and it was equipped with posh booths and chairs. Once inside, The Seducer backed me against a wall, and proceeded to kiss me with strength and passion. I was taken aback, but enjoyed the kiss and kissed back with eagerness. I could not believe what was happening! I was caught up in a whirlwind of seduction, as his hands moved under my sweater to feel my breasts. I let go of what little inhibition I had left and allowed my hands to explore his body. The Seducer moved me to a chair and knelt before me. We kissed and groped like teenagers. Before I knew it, The Seducer had undone my pants to gain access to my wet and sensitive region. He was kissing my neck and breasts while he stimulated me below the belt. I, in turn, reached down to feel his hardness, which was ready to burst out of his jeans. He unzipped his jeans so that I could pleasure him better. We briefly discussed that fact that neither of us had a condom, so mutual masturbation would have to suffice. I was so caught up in the moment that I was startled when I realized that I was cheating on DH. I allowed myself to get swept back into the heat of passion as The Seducer and I continued to kiss and pleasure each other. When it was all over, and The Seducer had walked me to my car, I felt surprisingly good, yet suddenly guilty, for fooling around with another man.

Feeling dazed and shaky, I drove home. It was very early in the morning, but DH was awake and waiting for me. I was afraid to get too close to DH, for fear that he would regret having given me the idea and permission to explore fantasies with another man. DH later told me that I had a look of fire and fear in my eyes when I got home. He asked me to tell him what happened at the bar. As we had agreed upon, I told him every detail. We had hot, passionate, amazing sex for many nights after my night of extramarital fun. In the days that followed that encounter, I found it hard to concentrate on mundane daily life. My mind often wondered back to the dark room at the hotel where I had allowed another man, a complete stranger, to touch me and bring me to climax.

The Seducer will forever live in my mind, and DH and I talk about him, and that night, when we want to heat things up between the sheets. So much for my average marriage and being a goody-two-shoes... I am an adulteress (with permission) now...

Post Script: Diane Lane portrayed my feelings after that night quite well in the train scene from Unfaithful ...

The Nerd . . . my 2nd confession

2007-12-30T13:36:00.000-08:00

Well, after having a preview at what might be out there and available to me, I admit that my sense of curiosity was aroused.

So one night after a work related function, I decided to drive around town a little to see where I might find some action. Mind you, I had not been out on the dating scene for more than five years. I had no idea what the bar/club scene was like for a woman like me looking for a man to play with. I drove around and around looking for someplace, and trying to get up my nerve to actually go to a club. Last time I had been out with the girls, but tonight I was flying solo. I eventually picked a place that looked busy and fun. I was shocked to find I had to pay a cover charge! I thought most places let ladies in for free - oh well. I paid and walked the perimeter to survey my options. Before I even had a chance to make my way to the bar, I was confronted by a young man who immediately struck up a conversation with me about nothing at all. He seemed awkward and nerdy, but when he asked if I needed a drink I decided to stick around for a bit. He flagged down a cocktail server so I could order, but then made no attempt to pay for my drink. I had to buy my own cocktail! Was chivalry dead? What happened to the art of picking up a woman? So, I bought my drink and once again looked around the place, hoping to lock eyes with a guy who would see the look of desperation on my face and rescue me from this inept Nerd. No luck. I was dumbfounded when The Nerd made a quick jerking motion toward me that landed a messy, lazy kiss on my lips. THIS WAS NOT WHAT I WAS LOOKING FOR!

I was too polite to run away, so I asked a woman nearby for a cigarette, hoping that The Nerd was a nonsmoker, who would be repelled by such a nasty habit. While it did not scare him off completely, it did put some distance between us, and I was able to feign a phone call on my phone, telling him that my friend was out in the parking lot waiting for me to go to another bar. I escaped without too much trauma to my wallflower-like ego.

I returned home to DH, who had not known of my last minute plan to search for some fun, with no tantalizing story to tell. No heightened sexual escapade for us that night. Maybe this whole idea was a bust, after all, I am a just a good girl who always plays by the rules...

The Dirty Dancer. . . my 1st confession

2007-12-28T22:00:00.000-08:00

The suggestion of extramarital activities became the topic of our between the sheets dirty talk for quite a while. It added a little heat to our already satisfying love life.

And then there was a night out with the girls in honor of someone's birthday. I got all gussied up, and even tried to look a little extra sexy. With DH's approval I wore CFM heels and bared my cleavage. He told me I looked hot on my way out the door, and told me to have fun, with a wink and a smile. I knew what he meant.

The girls and I had dinner, accompanied by a fair amount of celebratory drinks. After dinner we moved the party next door to a dance club. On our way there, we stopped in the parking lot for a smoke and sips of Patron from a flask. (I know, kind of juvenile, but cheaper the the shots inside!) Once inside we all had fun, and I consumed more liquid courage as I began to take note of the men in the club. I took a break to have another cigarette outside (something I only do after having a few drinks) and enjoyed a flirtatious conversation with a man who looked a little bit like Mr. Clean. I began to entertain thoughts of what could happen with Mr. Clean if I allowed myself to take DH up on his naughty suggestion. While I was caught up in these thoughts, Mr. Clean's attention was diverted by a hot, confident, curvy club-goer. There went that opportunity.

I later found myself separated from my friends, and dancing with a stranger. Dancing quite seductively, too. Dirty dancing in a way that DH and I never danced. And then it happened. The Dirty Dancer kissed me. I think I kissed back. I know The Dirty Dancer pulled me in to grind a little harder. The rest of the details from the club are a little hazy... maybe too much tequila clouds my memory... that, and the fact that nearly 5 years have passed since that mildly naughty encounter. Nothing serious happened. Just a dirty dance and a kiss. I think one of my friends saw what happened, but she has never said anything (too polite, I guess). In the end, I must admit, I liked it. I liked the feel of a stranger's hand pulling me in closer. I liked the feel of his breath on my neck. I liked being kissed my a man other than DH. I had done it. I tried a little extramarital fun, and I liked it.

I went home to find DH awake, waiting on the couch for me, watching adult entertainment on cable. He was eager to find out if I had indeed been naughty. I shared with him the story of my brief, yet thrilling encounter. Don't forget, DH had given me permission to be play outside of our marriage as long as I was open and honest about anything I did. I told him about The Dirty Dancer, the grinding, the hand on my butt, and finally, the kiss. What followed was a night of passion like we had not experienced in a long time. It was hot, tantalizing, powerful and all inspired by The Dirty Dancer.

And don't forget, this is coming from a self proclaimed goody-two-shoes who always plays by the rules...

A little more history...

2007-12-28T21:00:00.000-08:00

Midway into my marriage, my darling husband and I started to tell tales and talk dirty in the bedroom to add some spice to our romantic times. DH began to ask me about previous lovers and situations. Truth be told, I only had 2 juicy stories to tell, but they were enough to kick things up a notch in bed for a while. We also reminisced about the time I went topless on our honeymoon, and the time I was so drunk and horny that I was removing my clothes as we approached our front porch after a night of cosmopolitans.

But then, one night I mentioned an innocent story about The One I wished I had lost my virginity to. The One I fantasized about for years while I pleasured myself. The One who never was... DH asked me what I would do if I ever ran into him (we still lived in the general vicinity of one another). I don't remember how I answered his question, but I do recall him telling me that it would be OK with him if I explored some of my unanswered questions and fantasies should I ever meet up with The One again.

What? An extramarital affair? DH told me that as long as I promised to be honest and open about extramarital activities, it was fine with him, even encouraged by him. I was shocked, flustered and sure I would never explore the naughty suggestion made by DH.

Remember, I told you I was a goody-two-shoes...

Introduction

2007-12-28T18:00:00.000-08:00

Confessions of a suburban wife...

Allow me to introduce myself. I am a suburban wife.

There, I said it. How hum-drum does that sound? A suburban wife. Based on the title of my blog I bet you are shocked by this fact.

I have been married for more than 10 years, and I am a mother. My dating and martial histories are pretty average. Growing up I was a wallflower and a late bloomer. Even as an adult, I think I am pretty forgettable. I have no exciting dating stories to tell (well, maybe just one or two) and the details of my marriage are nothing out of the ordinary. Don't get me wrong, I adore my husband and children, but I lead the life of a typical suburban working wife.

I work at a typical job from 8-5, and feel guilty for staying longer because the kids are in daycare. I take work home to finish because I am a dutiful employee who is intimidated my my boss. I am too much of a goody-two-shoes to rebel against aforementioned boss . Oh sure, I complain and vent to coworkers, but in the end, when Boss says "Jump.", I ask "How High?". I play by all the rules for fear of karma coming back to get me.

OK, thus far I have told you two key qualities about myself that have led to the following confessions:
1. I am a goody-two-shoes.
2. I am married with a typical marital history.

Read on for the mildly risque details of my confessions...