All the guys I’d hooked up with definitely liked that I’m very giving, and I loved what they gave me in return. I’d been an eager, naughty little slut, always willing to suck a new cock. My husband knows about some of it, but not all. He’s open-minded, and he loves me.
I am his hotwife, with a twist or two.
Even back in high school, guys had always told me I was pretty. But I was too shy to respond. It took a while, but I finally developed some confidence. With my firm, shapely figure and shoulder-length, medium-brown highlighted hair, I enjoyed catching a long look from any gentleman once he gazed into my steel blue eyes.
That gaze usually took a few seconds, though. First, they’d gawk at my conspicuous gravity defying double-D tits. I didn’t mind. It gave me a chance to check and see what kind of package might be concealed in their pants.
Truthfully, whether there was a detectable bulge or not really didn’t matter. If he was a nice, well-mannered guy I’d already be fantasizing about wrapping my lips around his throbbing cock. When the situation allowed, it would easily be more than a fantasy.
I moped around for a day or two, depressed about being unemployed and losing my daytime fuck buddy. It cheered me up to reminisce about my adventurous, orgasm drenched sex life. Those thoughts caused me to masturbate a lot. It was a satisfying distraction.
Finally, I bucked up and went out job hunting. In less than a week, I’d landed an awesome new challenge as the property and leasing manager at a large commercial complex. It was Monday to Friday with an early start time, so I’d have the bigger part of each afternoon free, and every weekend as well.
There were several different businesses and stores there, and I had quite a learning curve getting to meet all the various tenants. One shop sold all sorts of unique and specialty building items. I liked to poke around and admire the unique inventory. Jack and I were often doing projects around the house, giving it our own style and personalized touch.
I quickly struck up a friendship with the owner. We’d had a couple of pleasant conversations about some of his custom products, and I liked the way he politely pretended not to totally check me out every time I entered his store.
I learned his name was Bill. He was about an inch taller than my husband, so about six-foot-three. He was definitely toned and handsome and had this head of thick and curly, dark red hair. He always dressed nicely—a collared shirt and neat, casual slacks, and he presented himself with a very good-natured demeanor.
“Do you have some Viking blood in you?” I asked one day, purposely initiating some dialogue.
“Not exactly,” Bill replied with a warm laugh. “However, I’ve heard that before. I’m a mix of Scottish and Irish mostly, but I was born here.”
“Does your wife help you out in the store once in a while?”
“No. She’s…uh…gone. Long story. Anyway, I’ve been running it single-handed for a year or two now.”
“I see. It must get lonely,” I said coyly. I happened to be standing and facing him as we talked, so I could actually see the front of his pants begin to stir. It made me smile because I’d caused his cock to twitch, and I felt that undeniable craving surging inside.
I’d learned that an unfortunate number of opportunities are lost because guys are often too shy to say what they’re really thinking, so I’ve become quick to cut to the chase. I knew what I needed, and I’d just made up my mind to get it.
Bill was nervously trying to maintain the conversation, and he asked, “What does your husband do for a living?”
“Smooth,” I replied with a giggle. “Nice way to confirm if I’m married. I am, and very happily by the way. He’s got his own business, too, and it’s doing well. But I’ll tell you about another thing we do. Every so often, we discuss stuff, like pillow talk, you know, and he tells me it’s okay to be with other guys. Sometimes, he’s even watched.”
“W…Watched! Watched what?” he stammered, clearly shocked at my leading remark.
“Well…occasionally, he’s observed me doing my absolute favorite thing. A few times he’s watched me perform oral sex on other guys.”
Bill was flabbergasted and didn’t seem to know what to say. I could clearly see the outline of his growing erection pointing up toward his beltline to the right of his zipper.
“Do you have a private spot here?” I asked, determined to seize the moment.
“Yeah. My office is at the back of the store,” he replied with a wavering tone. He stared at me and still looked confused by my boldness.
“Show me,” I insisted, and I’m sure there was a sparkle in my eye.
He turned to walk toward the back of the shop but kept swiveling his head in my direction to make sure I was actually following.
“I’m right here,” I reassured him as I slipped my fingers into the back of his pants and held onto to his belt like I was using him as my guide.
Bill had a nice, cozy office with no windows. I thought, oh fuck, here I am again, probably gonna get fired. “Door lock?” I asked.
“Yes!” he exclaimed and stepped around me to flip the deadbolt shut.