BDSM

Occasionally, It's Beyond Your Control

Samantha is astonished by an unexpected romantic encounter.

Spankmasters
May 10, 2024
22 min read
small breastsanaloralhotwifeSometimes You Just Can't Help Itintercoursecumredhead
Sometimes You Just Can't Help It
Sometimes You Just Can't Help It

Occasionally, It's Beyond Your Control

It had been a while since I spent time with someone aside from my husband, and I wasn't thinking of fulfilling any desires or embarking on some adventures to please my spouse's desire for me to be promiscuous. Visiting a school with your child wasn't the time or place for such thoughts. Still, here was my husband's message:

"Baby. Here's what I'll take care of today: buying groceries, fixing the porch, cleaning the office, doing laundry, and encouraging you to find an attractive father figure during the college tour for a one-night stand later tonight."

"Sweetie! Thank you for all that, except for the last one. You're so mischievous! Make sure you stock up on fruits and veggies when you go shopping," I responded, attempting to change the subject.

"Of course, all the healthy stuff. If not a parent from this university, perhaps a teacher? You should just keep your eyes open," he replied, persistent as always. This was just a way for him to express his desire for me while I was away.

"Love you, baby. I'll pamper you when I get home, Sexy Stud Muffin."

He asked one of his usual "sexy" questions: "What's the probability that you'll do something with someone or even think about it?"

"Zero percent and zero percent, sweetheart. Now leave me alone!" I replied, pretending annoyance. He responded with a heart emoji. While riding the tour bus, I glanced out the window and thought of the moments Jason and I shared. I had plenty of orgasms awaiting me when I returned home. I chuckled at his desire for me and then tried to suppress those thoughts in favor of our college tour adventure.

The bus stopped, and we got off to visit the next destination on the campus tour. My outgoing daughter had already formed a bond with another child and walked in front of us with the rest of the kids, while my husband's fellow parents and I lingered behind. One father placed his hand on my shoulder and engaged me in conversation.

"It's astonishing how quickly they mature," he commented. "I feel like I'm right back in kindergarten, dropping my child off again."

He was correct. Everything was happening so quickly. I smiled back at him, acknowledging his point. The thought of my husband's lustful imagination briefly crossed my mind. I considered this gentleman as a potential candidate for an exciting adventure (he was quite adorable), but I instantly dismissed the notion. We resumed the tour as my mind wandered through cherished memories from our past.

Later that day, my daughter and her new buddy informed me they wanted to dine together. I reminded her we were relocating to a different community following the tour. Conveniently, they lived in the same college and invited to accompany them. I consulted with their parents about letting the kids explore the city independently after our arrival. I was quite eager to be on my own and avoid chatting with strangers. I made a decision to seek some delectable seafood and savor my book. It felt enjoyable imagining my life as a bookstore cat, protected and well-groomed, surrounded by the delightful scent of paper and ink.

In this quaint new town, it was easy to find superb seafood and lovely stores. Seizing the chance to explore and reflect on what could potentially become my daughter's temporary home, I ventured through the streets after dinner. I stumbled upon a bookstore. The instant I entered, Olive clawed at my leg; it's a clear indicator of a great bookstore. I pictured myself as a literary cat—well-fed, well-loved, and constantly dozing off on the nooks and shelves in the cozy aroma of books. I lowered myself and massaged this fur ball.

"That's Olive," another person said. "She was conceived within this store."

"Olive!" I exclaimed. A fitting, peculiar name for a cat. "How did she obtain that name?"

"She was supposed to be named 'Olivier,' but my daughter couldn't utter the last syllable when she was young. Thus, her mispronunciation stuck as it was just too adorable."

"I had a feline friend named Oliver in my college days who was also large like this. And that story is extremely adorable. Where is your daughter now?"

"She's at university."

"My college boyfriend!" I gasped. "How old is he?"

The guy told me that his kitten, which is just as adorable as mine, has left to attend college in California. He's now all alone with his books. Since we're both on the topic of cats and college, we began conversing about life, parenthood, literature, and the small town we're in, as well as the local university nearby. It was fantastic meeting this intelligent and bookishly handsome guy. He gave me a similar vibe to my husband.

While conversing, I wondered. What if I had sexual desires towards this guy? I flicked the switch in my mind, thinking of my husband. I started to feel damp down there. I quickly tried to squash my thoughts.

"Say what?" I said to myself as I snapped back to reality. "Did I just think about having sex with this guy?" I wondered. "Jason must've implanted such a thought in my mind." I blushed a little more, and my concentration vanished for nearly 30 seconds.

"I'm afraid we'll be closing soon," the man informed me. "Do you want to borrow any books?"

"Oh, sorry. I just drifted off for a bit there. I've been looking for the newest book in the Louise Penny series. I don't think it's been published yet, though. I'm a huge mystery fan. Her characters have become like good friends at this point."

"I've read some of her books and found them enjoyable. Unfortunately, we only have a few copies of the latest one, and they were all prebooked before we received them."

"What'll you be reading next?" I wondered.

"I'm currently reading The Rachel Papers by Martin Amis," he replied, mixing feelings of embarrassment and swiftly announcing what he would say.

"I've never heard of that book," I said. "Do you like it?"

"Absolutely. It's not like the mystery novels you read, but it's quite erotic," he asserted, placing his book next to the register for me to pick up.

Feeling bold enough to match his confidence, I eagerly took the book. "I suppose there's no harm in reading a quote from it," I said. Opening the book, I perused a passage.

"Slide my hand over her bronze tights, tracing her hip-bone, circling beneath the overhang of her buttock, and slide flat-palmed down the back of her legs. Turning around the knee - under it, over it. U-turn up her thighs. Now dipping between them for a breathless moment. Now skirting cheekily round the side. It hovers for a full quarter of a minute, then lands, soft but firm, on her cunt."

I couldn't come to terms with how raw and daring that sentence was, so I blurted it out to a casual acquaintance. His eyes pierced me, and I inhaled sharply, clutching the book to my chest as I felt my heartbeat accelerate. The wetness between my legs was undeniable. He granted me complete silence and placed his hands together, as though he wished to reenact that passage there and then. "It appears the store is closed," he announced.

"Precisely," I responded.

The man walked toward me, the cat meowed, and I closed my eyes. I identified the sound of the front door being locked. Oh, I was about to be taken. From my initial low desire to now be ravenous, it occurred to me I wanted him desperately. However, a brief thought passed through my brain: "I hope he's good at this." I wondered, "will he be a good lover?" I couldn't help but think it as our intimate encounter was about to occur.

His hands then rested on my shoulders behind me. They moved down my arms, then his arms enclosed me. He pinched my neck with his lips. I experienced a shudder throughout my body. He then kissed my ear. It was nice. I turned around, kissing him back. My lips collided with his, and my tongue danced with his. The amazingly hard bulge in his trousers rammed against my leg. I needed his gender inside me.

"We will now move to the reading nook at the back of the bookcases," he instructed. "First, you're going to strip your shirt and pants here."

We were right in front of the shop with glasses full of books on show. This domineering act from him felt completely suitable. I grinned and slid my fingers over my frame, signalling my agreement to do as instructed. I cautiously removed my top, showcasing my unremarkable, padded bra. I discarded my flip-flops (a smart idea, I now realize) and took off my pants, as my tight, cotton underwear slid down alongside them. My backside pushed towards him and I swayed my hips as I headed towards the back of the store. I reached around me, unfastening my bra. Sliding it down my shoulders and tossing it onto the floor, I tugged on my nipples before I faced him, enticing him with a hint of my breasts. I retracted my hands, displaying my small, perky breasts and enthusiastically hard nipples to this stranger. I looked down at myself then back at him, noticing a sense of burning desire and passion in his eyes. I was certain he enjoyed my performance. Well then, he seemed to be fond of the little show. I walked around a wall to the reading area.

I heard him walking up to me. He spun me around and pulled me close, engaging in a passionate kiss. I started unfastening his shirt. I slipped it off his chest as his fingers traced my every curve. He leaned in and latched onto one of my nipples. (It doesn't take them long to do this; my nipples have a strong magnetism that draws their mouths.) I started unbuttoning his belt when he stepped aside.

"Bend over. Pull down your underwear. I want to see you all."

I acted upon his orders. I stood up, about to open my glutes slightly for him with one hand. "Too slutty," I cautioned myself and released it before making a striptease out of him. I turned around towards him. "Now you," I said.

He didn't agree. He simply got rid of his belt in one smooth motion and discarded his trousers. He slipped out of them, taking off his shorts. Both of us unclothed now, we advanced towards each other, making contact once more. His penis, firm yet dominated by his erection, filled my hand. Exceptionally thick. Longer than my partner's. His hands, soft yet firm, explored my body. He leaned down and kissed my nipple sweetly. (It's consistent with men: my nipples can operate as black holes, drawing mouths towards them. Karma?) I started to undo his belt when he stepped away.

"Bend over. Take off your panties. I want to see all of you."

I took his command. I walked towards him, my legs wavering. "Now you," I retorted.

He didn't budge. He merely stepped out of his underwear and removed his shoes. Wholly exposed for each other, we once more approached each other, embracing. His penis twitched upon me pressing it into my grip. So hard. Longer than my husband. His hands wandered my body. I kissed him hungrily, asking for more. His hands penetrated me, my vagina soaked with excitement. I moaned, extreme need overtaking me.

"Please fill me," I pleaded. "Fuck me. I want your cock." I bent over a table behind me. I was stunned by how swiftly I was offering myself to this person, yet I couldn't wait to get him. This was when I bent down and spread my thighs for him with one hand. I peered back at him. "I mean it. Utilize me. I need this cock."

He took the lead immediately. His hands took my hips, and his cock, huge and tough, shoved inside me. He instantly began thrusting, pounding me. Oh my God, this felt incredible. He was skilled at intercourse. "Fill me, fill me, fill me, deeper, deeper," I moaned. He slowed his thrust pace, hammering into me and pressing his penis against my cervix. This was flawless. I started cumming and proclaimed it.

"I'm cumming oh my God I'm cumming!" He responded by fucking me even more violently. If he was hard earlier, he was monumental now. I adored his meaty cock and adored each stroke. My legs trembled. I began huffing and puffing. I lost control, gushing with pleasure without restraint. My orgasm escalated. My panting matched the escalating satisfaction engendered by each thrust. Gradually, it faded. Sensing I was done, he altered his rhythm, making gentle in-and-out movements. It was astounding how he was taking time for me to recover and savor this mind-blowing climax.

He pulled out of me. "Suck my cock," he commanded.

I knelt and grasped the base of his dick, instantly capturing his thick tip in my mouth. He craved more. Supporting the back of my head, he pushed his meat into my throat, making me gag quite pleasurably as I endeavored to envelop his member. I grew more excited, taking the lead, savoring the act of swallowing every inch of him. His cock looked incredible: around seven and a half inches; no more or less, just perfect. And it was my pleasure to worship it as I am now.

I was controlled by a mix of hormones and sexual excitement. The oysters from dinner held the key to my desire, as if they were highly potent aphrodisiacs. I let go of my inhibitions and vowed to relinquish complete control to this mysterious man, available whenever he desired.

Working him in and out with my throat caused him to moan. Was he about to spurt his load? I longed for his seed. I intensified my efforts, driving him deeper. He appreciated my attempts to swallow and gag reflexively. He moaned once more. He was on the verge. I felt his climax at hand. I managed to swallow his dick the full length of my throat, massaging it with sensual, slow swallows.

He had just about reached his end. I detected he was about to release a colossal amount of cum. I braced myself, so eager to lap up his semen. Trying to accommodate as much as I could, I thrust his member back into my throat. No, he wouldn't finish there. He held it in reserve, wanting to shoot his load down my throat. But he changed his mind, instead depositing his load on my tongue. A second gush followed. Then another. Subsequently, he pushed his swollen cock against the back of my tongue. I hesitated and asked if I should swallow, but he ordered me to continue to keep his load on my tongue.

I complied, following his lead. His whole body shook as he continued to pump semen into my waiting mouth. His arousal earned him trembling gasps; his breathing ragged; his release at last. He removed his swollen cock from my face. Two final spurts landed on my cheeks and lips.

He softly caressed my lips with his cock. "Keep your mouth full," he instructed. "Don't swallow. Just let it fill your mouth."

Following his commands, I held a great deal of his semen in my mouth, experiencing it dribble from my mouth, down my cheeks, and onto my tits. Ensuring his load would slowly drain from my fingertips, he allowed himself a reprieve as his orgasm fully subsided.

He pulled me up, gifting me a tender kiss. "I want you again," he whispered sexily. This marked the pivotal moment in our evening: we made love as he glided his fingers in and out of me. While cum swirled in my mouth, he said, "Why don't you swallow my jism and kiss me?"

I struggled to express myself, yet managed to silently agree. We merged our bodies: his one-third erect, damp cock brushed my thigh. Reflecting on the situation, I considered sharing my secret life with my husband, Jason. I mentioned that I might not return to our town. Captivatingly, he asked if I would like to take some photos as a memento of this unforgettable experience. Intriguingly, he anticipated this encounter would shape into our private collection of intimate moments, privy only to us. And, given my state of arousal, I yearned for another fulfilling release.

I leapt to the front of the store, realizing how dark it was. Though I had to move soon, my utmost goal was climaxing with him again. And I'd also fashion our little, intimate collection for my husband. Swiftly, I retrieved my cell phone. I passed it to him, inviting him to begin our filthy, visual catalog.

He set down the book, displaying a female figure whose legs were shoulder-width apart and holding her hands in front of her vagina. With swift clicks, he snapped several shots. He flipped to the next page and directed me to stand with my hands on my stomach. Click, click, click went his finger against the phone screen, capturing the scene.

I could feel his semen dripping down my face and chest. "Lean to the left," he ordered. "Now to the right." After a series of photos, he became disinterested in the book.

"Bend over," he instructed. "Beautiful," he praised. "Now look at me. You're gorgeous. Arch your back. Pinch a nipple," he desired. I did as I was told, and he took more pictures. Then, he finally tired of the camera and approached me.

"Let me photograph you," I requested.

He hugged me, and we snapped a selfie. I knelt before his semi-hard (but lively, as he was about to shower again) cock and ran my tongue over the tip. Capturing photo after photo, his arousal increased, reaching full strength. His passion was evident as he ordered me to record our encounter.

"I need some videos," he demanded.

I set down the phone next to the table and started recording. Positioning the device so it had the perfect angle, I prepared for the show.

"Lie down on the table," he instructed. Throwing soft pillows and blankets on the surface, I complied, legs spread and hand caressing my pussy. My husband moved the pillows to the edge and pushed my legs back, exposing my wet cunt. With a swift motion, he lowered himself on top of me, gazing at me with desire.

His now fully erect (and deliciously thick, a true shower) penis went into my dripping pussy, pushing against my cervix. The sensation felt as if his cock was made for my body. My cries echoed through the room as I felt his dick stretching me out. He paused for a moment, then removed his cock, only to thrust it back into me with renewed force. My moans filled the atmosphere, and my heavy breathing indicated my eagerness for his penetration.

"Your cock is perfect for me," I declared, feeling dizzy with pleasure. "So long, so thick..." They were almost too much.

He grinned and continued to tantalize me, riding me hard and fast. His large penis slid in and out, filling me completely. I reached up to squeeze my breasts and play with my nipples, eager to please him. I loved the enchanting organism of lust and felt another orgasm approaching.

"Compliment my cock one more time," he instructed. The lascivious thoughts had consumed me, making an audible utterance impossible. "Say it."

"Your cock is the perfect cock," I screamed, "Perfect size, perfect shape. It's like it was made for me. Please fuck me, please!" My moaning intensified, encouraging him to give me every bit of pleasure he could.

His thrusted quickened, driving deeper into my depths. I gasped as his penis slid out and then in, my hand cramping on my breast and bendescending my nipple. The euphoric sensations from his pounding drove me to an intense orgasm and a mighty cry flowed from my lips. Surprisingly, I had never felt a stronger climax. When I finally came down, I asked for more, desiring an encore of the pleasurable vision.

"I want your ass," I requested. "Fuck it like you're fucking me now."

Without hesitation, he obeyed. Not needing any lube, my ample fluids had already primed my ass for him. My hands went to my breasts, feeling his coated liquid remnants and squeezing, twisting my nipples. After a vigorous session, he picked me up. My face buried in his shoulder, he whispered gravely, "I'm cumming." He thrust in all the way as his cock erupted, spilling his seed inside me.

"Take my ass," I begged, "Ravage me the same way you're ravaging my pussy."

He wasted no time. Stooping down, he positioned his cock next to my beaten, dripping vagina. He slid into my ass, making me blush at the intense fullness. His powerful muscles held my legs back as he gazed into my eyes. He pounded me with every last ounce of strength, filling me from behind and inside. My inner walls tightened around his cock, pressing me closer to him. The room shook with his loud groans as he reached his midst orgasm. He started to bend, urging me to take control.

When he sat up, I couldn't resist. I answered every thrust, matching his tempo, exchanging heated glances as the pleasing torture continued. I bounced up and down, raising my ass to meet the rhythm of his thrusts. With every stroke, I groaned in pleasure at experiencing two cocks at the same time. I wavered near my previous orgasm, feeling it approach with increasing intensity.

I asked him to continue until I came. He promptly complied, rhythmically sticking his penis into my pussy while driving deeper and deeper into my ass. A blissful climax burst over me, and with a final push, his cock shot its load. As I recovered, he allowed me to kiss him fully, savoring the taste of our bodily fluids.

"I'm not stopping until you cum again," he vowed.

He extracted his wet penis from my pussy and knelt slightly, positioning his manhood to my ass. I felt the tip pushing against me and I pushed back, aiming to draw him further inside me. He inserted the head and pulled it out. I gasped. Again, he crept closer and his phallus missed, striking my pussy instead. He left it there, fucking me for roughly three to four minutes, granting me another climax, and afterward, he drew out and aligned himself with my desperate anus.

He entered me once more, and I sensed the bulbous head stretching my sphincter. I moaned, biting my hand in a mix of pleasure and discomfort. He pushed in completely in one swift move and then withdrew at a steady speed. What a fantastic lover, I thought.

"Take me, take me, use me!" I murmured softly under my breath. He surely heard as his thrusts intensified. I gripped my clit and began massaging it as he filled my ass. I was overcome with lust as I visualized the scene he must be witnessing: my utilized and wet pussy pouting with each thrust into my sphincter, me manually stimulating my clitoris, and my luscious lips spreading open for his appreciation. I moaned, encountering the glove-like discomfort and yearning for more. I pressed my fingers into my pussy, yenning for deeper penetration. He comprehended my assumed message.

He grasped my hand and guided it to my lips. I began to suck and taste my fingers whilst continuing to savagely grasp my breasts. He yanked his penis out of my ass and reinserted it into my wet pussy. I released a moan of disappointment at the lack of ass penetration, thrilled to savor his cock once more. He spent a short while in my pussy before pulling out and pressing himself against my craving anus. He took my fingers out of my pussy and inserted them in his place, granting me the double penetration I longed for.

He pushed his fingers in and then out, landing at my G-spot. I felt him pushing and orbiting as he assaulted me with fervor in my ass. I convulsed involuntarily, gulping in another bodily orgasm as he relentlessly fucked me at his own rhythm for his own enjoyment.

His thrusts shifted. Longer. Deeper. I believed he was close. He persevered, unyielding. My gaze fell upon the perfectly aligned books in the room, contemplating the tantalizing story we were enacting before this silent audience, desiring to have a share in the passion that I felt.

"Oh my God, I'm about to cum. I want to fill you!"

Yes, I desired to be filled with his sperm in my ass! But that didn't match his intentions. He disengaged from my anus and switched his penis to my pussy again. Damn, he didn't realize I couldn't stand the risk of having a baby. After all, I had gone off birth control edging on ten years now and he could potentially impregnate me. I contemplated how joyous it would be but never imagined him assuming I wanted it.

"Do you have a vasectomy?" I blurted rapidly.

"No. Can I fill you?"

"No. You'll get me pregnant. Please cum on me. Cum on my face. I want to witness it."

He was captivated by this response. He caressed his cock in me, escalating his climax. He appeared reluctant, prolonging his orgasm for as long as possible, building the most intense climax he could. I experienced another orgasm, and he was nearing his own. I let out another moan, signaling him to create an eruption. His eruption arrived, depositing a portion into my pussy (unfortunately, not managing to pull out) and the next blast showered my cum-drenched pelvic area.

I scuttled off the table, planning to catch the rest. I knelt in front of him, attempting to ensure the camera would capture his ejaculate coating my dripping frame. He emerged from the last blast and erupted into my face, breasts, and mouth. In my mouth, he spilled the final traces of his sperm before freezing in my hand. Sweetly, I cleaned every bit of his skin with my mouth, licking and coating it with his semen. I sighed with contentment, feeling exhausted but overjoyed about this wonderful experience. Reason began to return to my mind, and I asked for my cellphone. He struggled to apprehend my intentions, owing to his overwhelming climax. I chuckled, sitting up, cumme covered from head to foot. I reached for my phone and paused the recording. I realized how painful it would be later (and how excited I was about it). This was... so unbelievable. I needed to return to the hotel!

"Certainly, we need pictures of this," he commented, taking the phone from me and redirecting it. He resumed taking photos, this time focusing on my body, which was saturated with perspiration, cum, and passion. He approached my breasts, lips, and pussy up close, lingering on each feature while praising me. He even captured me for a few moments as he called me beautiful and passionate. He furthermore recorded some movies of me massaging the spunk all over my body. He gave me permission to tell my husband how lucky he was to have such a woman just as he had mentioned the truth (he did say that).

"You're rather sweet," I said back admiringly. "You certainly know how to please a female, but I've got to leave soon. I should have been back to the hotel an hour ago. The encounter went on for what I thought would only last five minutes."

He sniggered. "Not my style," he said. He later flustered, looking for his garments and something I could wipe my body with. In the end, he reluctantly gave me his shirt, which worked in cleaning my face and nape of my neck. I could shower my breasts and body later, but at the very least I could act normal when back in the room.

He returned my attire. "May I embrace you before you leave?"

"Of course," I said. He hugged me, holding my nude body against his bare chest and kissed me one last time. His eyes sparkled as we cracked up, which confirmed despite the circumstances, we discovered a common ground and thankfully delighted in this.

I got dressed. "Am I allowed one more embrace before you go?"

"Naturally," I answered. Before I left, he covered me with his shirt. "Here's what you can use to clean yourself with. I'm so sorry. I'll fetch your clothes." Gratefully, his shirt wiped my face and neck. My breasts and body would have to wait for a shower but at the very least, I could attempt to appear unaltered when returning to the room.

He handed me my items. "May I grant me one final hug?"

I agreed. He stroked me nudely against his torso and kissed me a second time. His gaze while we disengaged was genuine. We forged a genuine relationship, and I was highly thankful it was so gratifying for both of us.

I donned my clothes. He inquired if he could keep my bra and underwear. It was the one bra I had on hand for the journey (not that I needed one but it was the only way to mask my nipples from being protrusive). I passed him my knickers, smiling. He took more images as I bent to get my trousers on. Jason would like these. The way he'd react when I told him regarding this was an activity worth pondering upon...

"May I keep this Helmut Newton book?" I conciliated.

"Please do! Here, take this copy of The Rachel Papers, too." He handed me his copy of The Rachel Papers. My smile deepened at him, exchanged a kiss at the bookstore's entrance, and murmured, "thanks. So long, Olive!" The feline heard my salutation and imitated it with an earcock wiggle and half eye-blink, making us both laugh.

"Thank you," he said. "It meant more to me than you could imagine." He presented me with his phone number, asked that I send him our images soon. I promised him I would. After unlocking the door, I entered the fresh night air. I drifted down the street to my hotel, seeing him keeping an eye from afar. I smiled and waved, fading around the corner.

I had not realized how near the hotel was. I received a text after I returned. "Hello, Mom, we found a party of debutantes on campus and they're showing us around. I'll be home in a few hours. Sorry, we haven't been spending time together!"

I smiled. This would allow me the opportunity to obtain a beverage, email my bookseller some titillating images, and lastly, get a shower. I demanded a gin and tonic, arranging my artistry literature and erotica books spinal-side to evade exposure. As I teased my neck, the remaining semen reminded me, "If only I had taken a shower prior to these events."

I chuckled, responding, "I've had a fantastic time, thank you." I was flattered by the bartender's advances and thought about considering flirting with him, but I had plans for the night with my husband. I conjured up a clever plan to share my adventure with him. The bartender's flirtatious behavior would serve as the perfect distraction.

I retreated to my room and took a shower. I messaged my bookstore friend, Robert, and sent him a few photos. "More to come," I promised. I slipped on my headphones and phoned my husband.

"Sweetheart, there's so much I need to share with you," I said using our secret code. This implied that something "erotic" had occurred. I recounted my encounter with the bartender, describing how he flirted with me. I talked about buying the erotic novel at the bookstore and how the bookseller flirted with me. I added that the bartender took notice and began flirting with me as well. My husband asked if I'd consider visiting the bar again, but I said it was too risky considering the situation. I told him I'd also found a sexy book for him as a surprise. We exchanged goodbyes, and I started to read my new purchase.

(Would you judge me if I told you that I did indeed call the bar again and requested another drink? And this time, the sexy bartender delivered it? And I gently hinted, "I have something for you if you'd like," then removed my top, revealing myself, and offered to blow him if he could cum quickly? And he did - he spent about three minutes and a normal amount compared to Robert. I also decided to send that video to my husband as a gift.)

After two days, I was back home. My husband was thrilled by the detailed story of my bartender experience and was kissing me constantly. After two more days, it was the weekend, and we had the house to ourselves. I handed my husband the Helmut Newton book as a surprise, and he was blown away by its eroticism. We discussed the perfect poses we'd seen. As we turned the pages, we arrived at the first pose: a woman clasping her hands in front of her vagina. I'd prepared for this moment, slipping in a photo of myself in the same pose (taken at a nearby Walgreens kiosk). As he continued to flip through the book, he experienced different emotions before ascending to amazement and surprise: "How did all this happen?"

"Honey, there's so much I need to tell you," I said. I unlocked my phone and began playing the video: the sounds of passion enveloped us. "Your cock is the epitome of perfection. It's the best cock - just the right length, just the right thickness. It was as though it was crafted for me," I groaned in pleasure.

My husband, visibly aroused, took my head in his hands and kissed me passionately.

"Baby, I adore you so much. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

He did not watch the video until long after we finished making love. He gazed at it, mesmerized, still standing on the bedside table. Knowing that the intensity of our connection only grew stronger through my story, we made love throughout the entire weekend.

The following week, our daughter announced she would be attending the school in the town where Robert had his bookstore. I thought, "Well, how convenient," and entertained the idea of reuniting with him. I texted him, and he was thrilled at the prospect. I shared my plans to see him again in a few months with my husband, who thought I might not be able to resist. I smiled, knowing he was right - after all, my sexual adventure was far from over. [JCL] - Again, it's a story about a married woman who goes on a solo trip and cheats on her husband by having sex with a sexy bartender. She records the act, sends pictures to a male friend, and mentions the encounter with her husband, who is also excited about it. The whole story suggests her husband is fine with her having an affair.

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Source: www.nice-escort.de