The glue that holds my hotwife aspirations together.
I was told that a vision board could have therapeutic benefits, so I’ve turned my swirling thoughts into a tapestry of images. I like the tactile feel of cutting out pictures — a sexy dress, a yummy cocktail, a woman’s smiling face — and gluing them onto a blank page with child-like delight.
My vision is about a weekend away. I know you’ve been asking about one. I’m still recovering from our last getaway, but my mind races forward. Certain thoughts won’t leave me, no matter how politely I ask.
I’m cutting out a picture of a couch from a home decoration magazine. It’s much too posh for the hotel room I’ve imagined, but that’s the way it has to be for your fine ass. You’re on the middle cushion wearing a short, black cocktail dress that is creeping up your sexy thighs. I have a hand on your stomach and I’m kissing your exposed shoulder. Your shoulders are exposed and your dress is creeping because there’s another man at your side. He has a firm hand feeling up your leg and a surgical hand removing the straps of your dress as he kisses you.
Maybe we need to step back and consider all the pieces that got us here.
A Crown of Braids
Maybe it’s weird to start here. I know that taking too much interest in how you look has got me in trouble in the past. I want you to know that it comes from the right place.
I guess it’s a quirk of mine. I like rituals: physical acts that let me know when something important is going on.
This feels like a coronation. I am no king but you are my queen.
After a day of pampering in the spa, you visit an overpriced hairdresser because that’s what royalty does. Your hair is cut and decorated into a crown of braids. The gold strands represent your shining beauty, and the silver your carnal wisdom. You look gorgeous.
The woman in the mirror looks ready for something she can’t prepare for. There’s nervousness, yes, but it comes from a place of excitement.
A Slinky Dress
I don’t think you should wear white because you are already married. I don’t know why, but it feels like it has to be black. Not for symbolism. No mourning here. It’s just sleek and sexy.
No, you’ve never worn anything like it. Yet, you look fantastic in this tiny dress for a woman who treats her body like a temple. There’s a thin strap that hangs like a necklace around your neck, holding the dress snug over your chest. Your back is mostly exposed. Good thing it’s black because it’s harder to see the slight bump of your nipples. Your legs look so nice. This dress is sexier for what it doesn’t cover.
Let’s just make sure we look at the weather in advance and figure out if you’ll need tights or not.
Cocktails
There’s a popular bar with plenty of spaces to hide. We’re all strangers here, but we find a dark corner at a table lit by a candle. We get there early and feel like we did on a first date. We settle on the same drink. It’s bourbon-based with a little sweetness. We’ve got 15 minutes to drink it. We pace ourselves. It’s going to be a long night.
The Guy
You’ve seen pictures, so you notice him when he swaggers in. He really does look just like Denzel Washington’s kid, the one who played professional football and just one day decided to be a blockbuster actor. I flag him down and he shakes my hand. He gives you a big smile and hugs you. He puts his hand on your back and pulls you close.
It’s my vision, so I make sure his handsomeness has not gone to his head. He’s sweet as molasses.
He’s got a beard. He’s wearing dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and a dark gray sports coat. His body is jacked.
It’s a small circular table. We crowd around you and I put my hand on your leg.
“Can we get you a drink?” I say.
“Anything with gin,” he says.
The night’s getting off to a great start.
Charging Bull Statue
You don’t just drag some bull off the street. This guy is a pro. He’s good at small talk, and he asks you lots of questions. They are questions that put you at ease: what are your hobbies, where do you like to travel, what’s your favorite food?
“Your hair is gorgeous by the way,” he says. “You look like a princess.”
You smile and say thank you, putting your hand on his arm. We agreed not to do more than three drinks. We are one ahead of him and you’re sipping the third one pretty slowly. You keep giving me these shocked looks I can’t interpret. I can’t see his hands. I think they are on your legs. I think you like it.
We’ve got code words. If one of us says “401K” it means we want to call the whole thing off. You didn’t love my code word for moving forward. It sounds a little silly but you set it up perfectly.
“We walked all over today,” you say.
“Oh, where to?” he says.
“Down to the Charging Bull,” you say.
I’m the one who laughs, but it sounds like my drink went down the wrong way. It’s my signal.
I’ve thought of ways to invite him to our hotel room, but there’s no great way to say it that’s not awkward.
“Yeah, we’re feeling a little tired,” I say.
“Oh, oh yeah, I understand, no pressure,” he says.
“No, I mean, I think we just might want to quiet things down a little. We’re probably going to just go drink wine in our room. Would you like to join us?”
Fancy Couch
So, we’re back to where we started. We’re enjoying a glass of red wine on a couch in a spacious room with a lovely view. The curtains are open, and you’re just fine with that. It feels like we are in a story.
You lean towards me. “I fucking love you,” you whisper.
You kiss me wet. I pull away. “Are you sure you’re good with this?” I ask. You react the way you do to a stupid question, and I find that reassuring.
You turn to him. He leans in. You lean closer. Your lips meet. There’s a small kiss. Mouths open, and you’re making out.
Things move quickly from there. You’re horny as hell, and it’s mostly because of our hands. As you take turns kissing us you feel hands on your neck, your shoulder, inside your leg, fondling your tits, sliding under your ass. I move my hand in between your legs but pull away quickly. He’s already rubbing his fingers over your lacy underwear.
You’re trying to hide it but I can tell from your breathing that you are having an orgasm.
Belt Buckle
A belt is kind of like a ribbon on a gift. It’s decorative but slows you down from getting to what’s underneath.
Once you can focus again, you grab his belt. You fumble around a little bit with one hand — your other hand is squeezing my cock over my jeans.
You get the belt out of the loop and pull the strap back out of the prong. You’re able to unbuckle his pants and get his zipper down but from there you need two hands. I try to be cool about it but I see you pull his dick out.
There was a reason for his swagger.
You turn my way. “I’m going to suck his dick,” you say.
“OK, my love,” I say.
It’s a little awkward. Actually, not the dick-sucking part. You know how to suck a cock, and a bigger one responds exactly the same way. You just need to cover more ground, and that’s no problem with that twisty tongue of yours.
The awkward part is that I don’t really know what to do with myself. I’m enjoying watching you and how you look back and smile at me as you’re working him like a five-time blowjob champ. But I feel like I should be doing something.
You got your knees up on the couch and scooted back to suck him. My legs are under your body. I pull up your dress over your ass and get my fingers under your thong. You’re wet as hell. I cover your clit with your juices, and it sounds like you are close to coming again. But the angle’s not perfect. I could be doing more.
I slowly slide under your body and get on my knees at the side of the couch. I pull your black underwear down to your knees, and stick my prodding tongue into your wet pussy.
You feel like you could melt in my mouth, and after a few cycles of licking and sucking I start to feel a warm liquid leak into my mouth. Your mouth is clamped over his cock. He holds your braids in his hand as you moan vibrations through his cock.
You pull yourself away and jump off the couch, stumbling your way to the bathroom with a lingering orgasm.
“Is she OK?” he asks.
“Oh yeah,” I say.
It was all part of the plan. We agreed that if it felt like things were going too fast, we’d slow them down a little.
He stuffs his dick back into his pants and we wait quietly.
Sexy Lingerie
When we were unpacking I put a white box on the bathroom vanity.
“Can I open it?” you asked me.
“Not now.”
“When?”
“When the time is right,” I said.
I’m thinking you might be a while in the bathroom so I get him another drink. I’m handing him more wine when I am surprised by the click of the bathroom door. I worked hard to find something that couldn’t easily be put on backwards.
It’s a lovely piece of lingerie, sexy and classy. It’s a beige-colored, plunge teddy that barely covers your nipples. The lingerie is see-through, so it doesn’t really matter that much. You pass by and show us the thong in the back. You’re wearing those sandals with cork heels that make your ass look so great when you walk.
God, you look beautiful. You lean over the bed and sway your hips back and forth. Now you’re just showing off.
He’s the guest so he goes first. He gets on his knees and starts kissing your exposed cheeks. He holds them in his strong hands, spreading them as he pulls your thong away from your holes. He gets his tongue deep into your tasty ass.
The thong keeps slipping back in his way. He grabs it and tears the lingerie off your body — the best $74.50 I’ve ever spent.
“Fuck!” you say.
He resumes eating your ass as you look back and rub your fingers through his tight curly hair.
A Barrel of Lube
I’m pretty sure he made you come again with his tongue but at this point it’s all starting to blend together. When it seems like you are ready, he drops his pants and briefs but not before he pulls something out of his pocket. It’s a rubber and he slides it over his big cock with ease. He puts his hands around your waist.
“Wait,” you say.
We talked all of this through. We wanted to be intentional about the night. It would go by fast. How did we want things to unfold?
You thought it would be more exciting to watch his dick enter your body. You wanted to feel the reality of it, the weight of him. You thought it would be intimate. You ran it by me ahead of time to make sure I was OK that you wanted eye-to-eye intimacy.
You climb up on the bed and turn to face him. There’s a big bottle of lube on the nightstand and you scoot back to grab it. You squeeze the bottle over your hands and start to rub it into your slick flesh as you hand him the bottle. You get three fingers in, stretching your pussyhole with lubed-up fingers.
After drenching his condom with lube and spreading it around, he grabs you under your knee and yanks you towards him. He pushes your legs out at your ankles, angling his cock at your folds.
“Baby, come here,” you say, calling me from the couch. I come by your side and you tell me to take off my clothes.
He’s trying to squeeze into your tight opening, but he needs a little guidance. His cock feels impossibly big — “it felt like steel in my hands,” you tell me later. I can’t help but size him up. He’s easily eight inches. Ten, maybe? And you can barely get your hand more than halfway around his cock.
I look down and you’re jerking my six-inch shaft, which you have firmly in your grip. I wonder if it would have mattered if I had popped another pill. He’s easing into you as you guide him in the right direction. Fortunately, there’s nothing more flexible than a pussy.
You let me trim and shave your pussy the night before, and I’m hoping you’re thankful for this moment. You look as your folds widen over his cock as he pries into you.
You realize what you’re in for when his dick reaches the swelling patch of sensitive skin beneath your clitoris. You can feel the ridge between his head and his shaft — even through the condom — as his dick keeps sliding by. You feel his strength when he pushes himself all the way in. He’s all-consuming.
You feel the ridge again when he slides out of you. “Oh fuck,” you say.
As you labor over his cock, your pussy begins to loosen. Your spot starts to tingle.
A Smile
This vision board started with a picture on the back of a vibrator box. It’s a cropped picture of a woman’s smiling face. She has a look of pure satisfaction. I saved it thinking I could make use of it in the future. And now it’s the centerpiece of my vision board, just like your satisfaction is our purpose for the night.
Don’t worry, I’m enjoying it too.
The tension is gone from your face. You’re starting to laugh and smile as you feel the tingling sensation spreading inside you as his dick begins to pick up the pace.
“You’re so crazy,” you say to me. “I fucking love you.”
You squeeze me by the hand as he starts to really bang you.
“That feel OK, baby?” he says in a deep, manly voice.
“It feels so fucking good,” you whimper back.
And then it hits me.
Fuck, you’re fucking another man. He’s a stud. And I let this happen. Jesus, I orchestrated it.
Breathe.
I am on the cusp of rage. But I’ve trained myself for this moment — all the obscene fantasies and video research. I am on the cusp of bliss.
Rage and bliss are the same emotions channeled in opposing directions.
Breathe.
You grab my cock and take it in your mouth. Your blue eyes bring me back. They squint with appreciation and love. I can see that we’re still madly in love. We are co-conspirators in a scheme for sexual satisfaction, and we’re playing the long game.
Geyser
We’ve brought a whole collection of toys, but I’m not convinced we will need them. I think he has everything you need.
Size doesn’t matter, I believe that. I think I have kept you satisfied, yeah?
But you know me. I have a restless interest in the idea that your pleasure can always deepen. And I have this theory about how would you react to a big cock inside you.
My theory is untested but not unfounded. I’ve seen some video evidence of what I think would happen. Porn is not sex ed, of course not. But what about real sex filmed with real women with really big cocks inside them?
Not everyone squirts, sure. But those who’ve learned to control their liquids within seem to cede control to a big cock. I’ve seen it. It’s not CGI. A big cock pops something on the inside, and it never recedes. Each thrust is met with an opposing rush of liquids.
Now we get to see if the experiment uncorks you.
No, it hasn’t worked with a big dildo. But your mind can’t be tricked that easily — you’re too clever. Under his rubbery covering, you can feel a real dick and its throbbing veins as he fucks your brains out.
Popp, popp, popp, poppp.
You are starting to tingle from the inside out. Something stirs inside you with nowhere to go. You’re trying to say something but it’s coming out in whimpers.
“What?” I say.
“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come so hard,” you say. “Make him stop, make him stop.”
He pulls out and the pressure inside gives way. You reflexively squeeze. I hear it before I see it. There’s a rapid splattering on the bed and then a stream of clear liquid that shoots over the white sheets. You curl up your ass and another stream shoots up at his stomach.
“Damn, baby!” he says.
Your body writhes in pleasure.
“You want to jump in?” he asks me.
“No, you just keep on doing what you’re doing,” I say.
You open your legs for him when you’re ready and he slips right in. Each cycle is shorter than the last. He bangs you with rapid thrusts and you come all over when he pulls out. I lose count after four or five waves, but it’s obvious on the last that you’ve got nothing left to give. You’re coming but the flow of liquid is gone. You shiver as you get under the covers.
Doublemint Gum
This picture is obviously symbolic. Remember the tagline : Double the pleasure, double the fun.
We’re all naked in bed. I think you’re asleep but you turn to me with your eyes still closed. “You never come into my ass when I ask you to,” you say. “Tonight, you need to listen.”
I think I know what’s on your mind and we’re obviously in sync when you crawl over him and stick his cock in your pink opening. He takes your ass firmly in his hands as you slide halfway down his cock and stop.
You’re kissing him as I find the right position. Your ass looks tight, but it opens up as your muscles begin to relax. I seize on the opportunity, pushing my dick slowly into your ass. Somehow his condom is gone and trickles of your juices run blackening lines down his cock.
Kissing him distracts you, so it mostly feels good as I slowly push deeper into your ass. I go all the way in and start to fuck you. It only takes seven or eight thrusts to reach my limits. I never want to overstay my welcome so I just let it go.
“Oh, fuck,” I say.
You unlock your lips from his. “Yeah, cum in me baby, cum in my ass.”
I stick my dick in as deep as I can go. My cum races through me. I feel it slow down at the point where your ass is clamped around my cock.
“Ahhhhhhhh, ahhhhh, fuck,” I say.
My semen injects you with life. You kiss him on the neck and suck on his nipples. You’re wild for him.
“I want to make you cum,” you tell him.
You get off the bed and on your knees, leading him to his feet. I sit on the edge of the bed and rub your back as you suck and jerk his dick. My cum is still dripping out of you onto the sea blue carpet.
I can tell you’re completely exhausted. Your hands are nearly numb, so you improvise.
“Cum in my mouth,” you say, dropping your hands to your sides.
He takes his cock in his hands and strokes himself with force. You brace for impact as his groans get louder and more frequent, opening your mouth wide under the tip of his head.
The first spurt drips down heavy onto your chin. You grab his balls and put your mouth over his leaky tip. You laugh, muffled in between swallowing. You grip his dick tight with two hands and squeeze until you have swallowed every last drop of his accumulated lust.
He collapses back on the bed.
We all crawl into the bed. You’re in the middle again, facing me. “Thank you,” you whisper. I get a sticky kiss goodnight.
In the dead of night, you seem restless. Someone kissed you on your forehead. You drift back to sleep.
Light makes the curtains glow. You look serene in your sleep. You’re naked over the covers and I’m aching for your body. But I get this nervous feeling that I’m stuck in a dream.