My wife works with a couple of other girls on reception at a doctors surgery. A couple of months ago she told me that one of the girls, Chloe has a thing for married men and has no problem with approaching and fucking these guys. Chloe is an attractive girl, a little overweight with a cute smile. She is a couple of years younger than my wife and has blonde hair. I barely speak to Chloe or any of the other girls at my wife's work as I don't go in there much, but when I did I always made sure I said hello. I wanted to make sure the lines of communication were open so that if she ever wanted to try something I would be open to it. The girls would chat at reception and my wife would relay the tales back to me with contempt. She would tell me about how Chloe was visiting a garage after hours and fucking one of the mechanics there a couple of nights a week. Also she told me a story about when Chloe worked at a restaurant previously and how she had let the male staff run a train on her,
The club was hot and loud and sweaty, the air thick with perfume, spilled alcohol, and the throbbing pulse of the bass. Beams of light cut across the room in sharp lines, dancing with the crowd in rhythmic pulses. People were packed tight on the dancefloor, bodies brushing and grinding, hips rolling in time with the beat. This was not my scene, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Max’s either, but Julie was grinning, her blue dress clinging to her skin, the thin straps barely holding it together, her breasts bouncing with every step. “Let’s get drinks first!” Julie shouted over the music, pointing at the bar. Max nodded, still looking a little overwhelmed, his eyes darting over the crowd. I felt his pain. An evening inside with a good book or videogame was more my speed. I touched his arm lightly. “You okay?” I mouthed. He nodded emphatically, like he did this sort of thing every day. “Of course!” Julie grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bar, dragging him through the mass of d
My husband and I have always floated the idea of swinging and talk about it a lot in the bedroom. The idea of sharing me really turns both of us on. So, finally while traveling abroad we decided to go to our first swingers club. It would be perfect, we wouldn’t know anyone there and we would play with only each other. Mostly because I was nervous but also we decided that it would be a good way to dip our toes into the water and not rush into something so new to us. We get there, stow away our clothes and belongings and start touring the facility. The first thing we saw was a MFMF in the middle of the main room. The noises alone made me instantly dripping wet. We went to the bar to take a shot of tequila to calm my nerves and get our blue “plays together only” bracelets. We venture back to the main room and situate ourselves near a mesh wall that looks into a smaller group room. The noises and all of the bodies moving together was one of the hottest things I’ve witnessed. First I
Under the shadow of her grace Exactly one year had passed, long and thorny, since the moment Anna, my sun and my torment, left for another. His name was Artyom, a self-confident senior, and I, just her timid classmate, watched their happiness from the sidelines, like a bright but inaccessible picture. My whole world narrowed to her smile, her laughter, the flicker of her chestnut hair in the college corridors. By spring, a shadow of thoughtfulness had settled in her eyes, always so clear, and her laughter had grown quieter. The story unfolded itself, harshly and routinely: Artyom, having graduated, had left for his hometown without proposing marriage, or even a heart, or even a seat next to her on the packed train. He had simply vanished from her life, leaving silence in his wake. But autumn brought other changes. Returning to school, I saw that Anna had been transformed. A smooth, careful grace had appeared in her gait, and the contours of her figure revealed a soft, rounded line o
Last night I was down on my knees with the guy I’ve been casually seeing, taking my time with him, slow, deep, exactly how he loves it. His breath got heavier, his sounds got rougher, and then his hand slid into my hair as he warned me he was about to lose it. Usually, that’s my cue to pull back and let him finish wherever, he normally cums all over my huge tiddies, but this time… something shifted. Instead, I held his gaze, took him all the way in, and didn’t stop. When he came, it hit hard, hot, thick pulses filling my mouth, pouring straight down my throat. I swallowed every single wave on instinct, feeling him twitch and throb against my tongue while I worked him until there was nothing left. No mess. No hesitation. Just warmth, fullness, and that slow, satisfying slide as I took all of him. When he finally pulled free, I licked my lips, looked up at him, and said, “That’s exactly where it belongs.” He actually shivered and called me a good girl. Now I understand it. Swallowing
--- I read the text from Tasha: “Bingo. I just moved back. Where can I find you?” I smiled, and typed, “At dinner tomorrow, obviously.” I met Tasha the next day at an upscale restaurant a few neighborhoods over from me. Tasha looked… somehow better than when I first saw her. She greeted me with a smile, a big hug, and a gentle kiss on the cheek. We spent a lovely dinner talking about our lives since we last saw each other. It had been nearly ten years, and so much had happened. She went to law school. A little about losing her mom, too. About the work she was doing now at her firm. She asked me about my work, my moves all over the country, how I was feeling well and settled back in the city where we both went to college. We both dated people, sometimes longer than we would have liked to, and they didn’t work out. The entire conversation, she never took her eyes off of me, and I never took my eyes off of her. At one point, I reached out to hold her hand for a moment and she gri
I always thought our family was a typical mix of old grudges and new habits, especially after my father married Helen. She was in her late thirties, with those curvaceous figures she didn't hesitate to accentuate with tight dresses, and eyes that I sometimes caught looking at myself when she thought I wasn't paying attention. I, a twenty-two-year-old guy, had just graduated from college, returned home for the summer, and there we were, all in the country house—my father, my mother, and I. Vacation, supposedly. My father would disappear all day fishing or into the garage with the car, leaving the two of us to hang around the house, and Helen would flirt with me so subtly that I couldn't believe it—she'd brush my hip as she passed, or smile out of the corner of her mouth when I helped with the dishes. That evening, after dinner, when my father was already snoring in front of the TV in the living room, she approached me in the kitchen. "Listen, Alex," she said q
About a year after we got married, my husband and I were invited to the wedding of one of my friends from college. The wedding was maybe half an hour to an hour drive away, so we decided that my husband wouldn't have more than a beer or two so we could drive home instead of spending on a hotel room. The best man, Justin, was a guy I knew from college, but we had never interacted a whole lot. He was never with a girl for more than a couple weeks before he moved on to the next. He was very good looking and what was worse, he knew it. Every time I was around him, he gave off an air of arrogance that was a turn off, and acted like I was crazy because I wasn't all over him. At the wedding reception, while getting myself a drink, Justin was next to me at the bar, gave me a hug, and made small talk about how we have been since school. It came up the situation that night with my husband and I driving back home and he got a little disappointed look, then a sly smile, asking which one was my
This is the story of the first time I cheated on my wife. It was about 6 years ago. If people like it I’ll post other stories and how my infidelity evolved our relationship in some interesting and hot ways. I work in an office of mainly women. I have a flirty vibe with a couple of them but up until this point it hadn’t gone further than that. One of my coworkers in particular, Nora, is the most flirty with me. Her teams messages are always super bubbly and she uses emojis and usually some sexual innuendo. In person it’s much more than that. She’s young, maybe 22 or 23, long dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, freckles and a tight body that she flaunts around the office. Around this time my team was tasked with a big project that had me working like a dog. I’d go in early, come home late, and my wife wasn’t happy about it. We were fighting a lot. Why am I making ever dinner when I work too? We don’t spend quality time together during the week and then you’re so burnt on the weekends t
My name is Daniil, I'm 21. Summers at our father's dacha were always a strange mix of boredom and tension. Especially after he married Irina two years ago, and she burst into my life—Maya, my now half-sister. She was 19, and she was the embodiment of everything that both drove me crazy and terrified me. Not the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers, but a real, natural beauty. Bright red hair that she always wore in a messy ponytail, freckles on her nose, and gray eyes that could see right through you. We lived in the same house, our rooms separated by a thin wall, and I could hear her tossing and turning at night. We constantly bickered over trivial things—who washed the dishes, what movie to watch—but beneath this game of "evil brother and sister," something else smoldered. Something forbidden, something sharp, something that took our breath away when our hands accidentally touched at the dinner table. We both felt it. The estate stood on the edge of an old, de
My stepmom Diana has pretty much always been in my life. She married my Dad, Patrick, when I was young, five years old to be exact. The whole time I’ve known her as far back as I can remember she has been a quiet, mousey mom-figure in my life. She is never too overbearing, never yells at me, never grounds me, nothing. If I ever did something to upset her, she would leave the room with a disappointed sigh instead of trying to control me. I remember purposefully testing her patience over and over, yet she never cracked in front of me. She would shake her head, turn away from me and then disappear to another room. Yes, I did try following her a couple times to continue my annoyance. During those attempts I was met with her stone cold face and silence. The lack of emotion did its job to scare me away. I stopped being a menace to Diana when I was a bit older. We got along better and she continued to be a supportive stepmom, doing laundry, cooking, cleaning and pretty much all the other
Soooo this one happened about five years ago in a particularly slutty period for me. I’d been flirting with two guys in the office at once, and it all culminated with me inviting them both over on the same night… The first knock came at seven twenty-eight. I opened the door to find Tom on the mat, hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside, hoodie unzipped over a soft black T-shirt, a carrier bag of snacks in one hand and a share-size bar of chocolate in the other. “Wow,” he said, eyes flicking down my body and back up quickly. The blue pajama shorts sat high on my hips and barely covered my ass. The top was tight and farrrrr too small; soft cotton that hugged my chest and lay loose over my stomach. I hadn’t worn a bra. Don;t judge me. I was fucking HORNY. I laughed. “Thanks! Thought you might enjoy seeing me out of my office clothes for a change!” “Well…yeah! You look awesome.” “Thanks,” I smiled, turning away from him, letting him see how short the shorts were. I was pretty su
*OK, this isn’t the wildest confession, but it happened a few days ago, and I wanted to write about it.* When we were first together, when, as couples do, we talked about what turned us on and what kinks we had, when I mentioned anal, my wife said no chance. She wasn’t into it, she didn’t want to try it, no fucking way. But, over time, her position softened. I gradually introduced butt play to our sex life, and my wife discovered she rather enjoyed it, even if she didn’t like to admit it. After a few years together, I tried licking her ass, and as long as she was horny enough, it would send her frantic. After more time, after we grew more experimental together, occasionally, she’d let me slide my dick into her well-lubed, well-prepared bum. But she never asked for anal. That was, until Sunday. We had the house to ourselves all afternoon. We took a lazy bath together before we climbed into bed. My wife loves it when I roll her onto her front to shower her back in kisses. As I d
My boyfriend’s family is super close, so I’m over all the time. His sister has been my low key crush since I met her. We flirt in that “is it joking?” brushing hands, compliments that linger, changing in front of each other when I sleep over. Last weekend we’re all at their parents’ house. Boyfriend runs out for pizza, parents at the neighbor’s. It’s just us in his old bedroom “looking for his yearbook.” Door shuts. She sits on the bed, pats the spot next to her. “Truth or dare?” I pick dare. She smirks: “Kiss me. For real this time.” I do. Soft at first, then deeper, her hand sliding under my tank, mine in her hair. Next thing I know tops are off, bras gone, her mouth on my nipple while I’m gasping into her pillow that still smells like my boyfriend. She pushes me back, peels my shorts off slow, fingers tracing everywhere she’s been staring at for months. Slides two inside me easy I’m soaked curls them perfect while her tongue circles my clit. I come fast, legs shaking, biting
It was early in the morning, so early the sun wasn’t even up yet. I had tossed and turned all night and now I was staring at the ceiling trying to think of anything else. My dreams had all been a blur, but they left an impression. A need that I woke up with and that pained me. I touched myself but it wasn’t enough. I huffed and turned kver, trying to go back to sleep but the need was too much. I needed to do something about it. I threw the blankets off and walked down the hall. I peeked into Josh and Josie’s room. They were both asleep but I pushed common sense aside and snuck in. Josh was at the edge of the bed and it only took a few taps to wake him up. I put my fingers to his lips to keep him quiet and then took his hand. I tugged him out to the hallway and I didn’t even get to my room. I leaned against the wall and pressed his hand between my thighs, he touched me through my panties beneath my large shirt. I moaned, trying to grind down on his hand. He was still half asleep as he
I always thought smell was the most important thing. Hot stone, oak whisk, kvassed bread for steam, and honey. And underneath it all, the scent of clean wood, warmed by human bodies. "Margarita's Bathhouse" was an expensive place, private, where people didn't just come to wash. They came to remove the crust from themselves, the one that accumulates from money, negotiations, and the eternal rush. And I, Marina, twenty-two years old, was part of this ritual. His name was Artyom. This was his third visit, and always only to me. Not the kind of brute who jumps in with his hands, no. Silent, with dark eyes that looked not at his body but right through it, as if searching for some kind of flaw within. Today he was especially exhausted. His shoulders were like boulders, his neck tense. I worked silently, the classic way. First, warming up, lightly tapping with a birch broom soaked in a basin of fragrant infusion. The steam room hummed like a living beast, the heat envelopin
It started innocently enough-us discussing what we liked during sex and what we’ve done before. After talking about it we realized how fun it would be to mess with my husband….I asked her to flirt with him…any excuse to press against him and whisper into his ear, for us to giggle and watch him get embarrassed and look away from us when we were clearly talking about him. Surprisingly it didn’t take long for him to catch on to what we were doing We finally gave in one night when we were all laying on the couch together. My girlfriend sat in between us and we all started drinking and talking. One thing led to another and she was on his lap, grinding against him, her little shorts riding up. I played with her hair while I watched him realize what was happening and guided her mouth to his, and just like that-the two of them were making out like hungry animals. She’s just like me and was soaking almost instantly. My cunt was dripping watching the two of them dry hump and in that moment I k
I’ve been best friends with his daughter, sleeping over almost every weekend. Her dad has been my quiet crush forever. For months I’ve been pushing it: “forgetting” a towel after showers so I walk past him in just a thong, wearing his old band tees with nothing underneath, bending over in tiny shorts when he’s on the couch. He always looked, clenched his jaw, but never touched. Last night my friend passed out early after too much wine, upstairs in her room. I’m in the basement “watching a movie” in his oversized flannel (stolen from the laundry) and lace panties, legs tucked under me on the couch. He comes down for a “nightcap,” sees me in his shirt, stops dead. “You’re killing me, kid.” I bite my lip, uncurl my legs slow, let the flannel ride up. “Then stop fighting it.” That’s all it took. He’s on me in two steps, lifting me off the couch like I’m nothing, laying me back on the thick rug in front of the TV. Flannel unbuttoned gentle, panties peeled off and tossed aside. He k
Thanksgiving weekend, whole family crammed into our house. Everyone's stuffed from dinner and finally crashes out early—kids downstairs, parents in the guest rooms. Me and my husband slip into our bedroom around 11, door not fully shut because we're thinking everyone's out cold. He's got me bent over the bed, pounding me hard from behind. My ass is up, tits swinging under me in this loose nightie, and I'm trying to keep quiet but moaning into the pillow every time he slams in deep. He's grabbing my hips, going faster, telling me how wet I am. Then I hear the floor creak. Look up—my brother-in-law is in the doorway. He's my husband's younger brother, taller, more built from the gym, always got that cocky grin. Wearing just boxer briefs and a t-shirt, you can see the outline of him getting hard already. He's got that athletic tight body, unlike my husband's dad bod. He sees us—me getting railed, ass bouncing, husband oblivious—and he doesn't move. Just stands there, leaning agai
I shared a flat with a girl in my university, who was pretty chill and awesome overall. Definitely the quiet type but not like I'm super extroverted either so it works. Was pretty impossible to hide my sex habits from her and she's been surprisingly chill about it. Few years ago, in one December we we chillin just us. Drinking wine while watching a movie. Don't remember how but we were talking about masturbating cause she's caught me before and I asked how she is so sneaky about it (ofc she started off all like "I don't masturbate" lol) I'll skip the convo but we masturbated together. Like full on spread facing eachother and telling eachother about our turn ones. We got super into in so much that we touched our pussies together. Things got super sticky. She was telling me about something that turned her on that she didn't want to say cause she thought I'd get mad. I kept poking. She told me it made her wet how easily I've picked up girls in the past, and she was envious of them, w