My girlfriend Diane and I started sharing dirty stories weeks after beginning to date. We discovered the ones we liked best were where she found herself in situations exploring her sexuality.

We were in a long-distance relationship for the first year (she worked in a different city from where I went to university). The shared fantasies were the primary drivers of our frequent, and always blisteringly hot phone sex. We became very good at it.

I found it difficult to manage the relationship long distance, craving her physical contact.

After being separated for two seemingly interminable months, I bought us tickets to see a famous musician she liked who was playing on Halloween night where I lived. I called her excitedly with the news, looking forward to the opportunity to be together, if only too briefly.

I was shocked when she told me she couldn't come, as much as she'd like to.

"I've already been invited to a costume party that night. I have my costume ready," Diane sadly told me. “I want to go.”

I was crushed.

It got much worse when she described her costume in detail to me. She was to be an ultra-sexy vampire with long straight black hair, crimson lipstick, sharp fangs, a floor-length low-cut black dress, and a rivulet of blood dripping from her mouth between her luscious breasts.

Oh, my God.

As I sat alone weeks later at the concert that I had hoped she would happily have attended with me, I couldn't help but imagine how delectable she looked, and what she might be doing at the party at that very moment. I continued to sit uncomfortably in my seat, suffering from a painful erection.

The next time I spoke to her on the phone, she apologized for not coming to the concert and was truly sorry she missed it, but she told me that she had a fabulous time at the party.

"Too bad you weren't there to see my costume. It was… popular. You would have enjoyed it," she told me. “Very much.”

She was trying to cheer me up, but, it wasn't working.

"From your description of it, I would have enjoyed it," I sighed. I told her of my acute discomfort experienced at the concert thinking about her.

"You should have called me the next night!" she exclaimed. "We could have had fabulous phone sex about that!"

"A lost opportunity," I sighed.

"Yes, yes it was," she replied, somewhat wistfully.

About a year later, she came down to move in with me. It was glorious. We were down to fuck every day.

Of course, we continued with our dirty talk in the bedroom. The leg-shaking, squirting, and multiple orgasms she had all but convinced me that she got off on our shared fantasies as much as I did.

We often shared these fantasies while on a long drive, when I was treated to one of her outstanding blow jobs or hand jobs.

It was early on in our pillow talk when she learned how vivid and detailed my cuckold fantasies were. She loved how much it aroused me to hear her talk about some of her past experiences with other men and how much I enjoyed living the experiences vicariously. 

One night, as we lay curled up in bed after a frantic fuck, she was slowly stroking my hardening cock and beginning to share additional details about the Halloween party she attended two months after we started dating.

She confessed that she had a few drinks, and spent the night tipsily talking to, and flirting heavily with, a seriously hot guy. “He made my pussy wet,” she confessed, breathing into my ear.

“He was excited by my sexy vampire costume,” she whispered. “Of course, it was exactly the reaction I was going for. I was horny and needed to get laid.”

He escorted her to the dance floor. As the slow music played, they wrapped their arms around each other, his around her waist, hers around his neck. They pressed their bodies close together, and their hands began to wander.

He ran his hands up her sides to her breasts, with one hand sliding underneath her dress to gently pull at her nipple. His other hand reached down and caressed her ass.

"I thought about you at that moment," she said softly. "How you told me you'd love to watch another man's hand on my ass. How hard I knew you'd be hearing about it. God, I was so turned on. I was dripping wet," she purred.

She described the large erection she felt grinding into her, and how much she loved it.

Nibbling on an earlobe, a major erogenous zone for her, he sent electrifying erotic pulses directly to her already-soaked cunt.

"I knew that I was going to fuck him that night or, thinking back, maybe he knew that he was going to fuck me. Either way, we knew we would wind up in bed together.”

I was definitely in her thoughts, she told me, but I was far away, and she needed to fuck.

She eagerly took him back to her shared apartment. 

Luckily, her roommate was away so she was free to be as loud as she wanted and free from having to explain to her roommate why I wasn't the one she was dragging into her bedroom that night.

"It was incredible. We fucked each other's brains out all night and well into the next afternoon. I lost count of how many times I came. Once on my back, and more than once riding him. Once standing in the shower and more than once being fucked from behind at the dining room table. I think that was my favourite of all of them. I came so hard and loud. My orgasms seemed to go on and on. We must have fucked there for over an hour," she gushed excitedly.

I groaned inwardly thinking about how many times we had eaten at that table since then. Every time we sat to eat, she must have thought excitedly about fucking her one night stand there, being pounded from behind as he held her hips, how violent and loud her orgasms were, and how they rolled on and on.

I asked sheepishly which side of the table they used for this debauchery.

"Would it excite you to know it's the side you always sat at when we had dinner? I must have chosen it subconsciously," she mused.

I moaned loudly at her confession.

She knew how incredibly aroused I was by her vivid recollections from the night of the party by feeling my hard cock throbbing in her hand.

"Now that I know what you like," she whispered into my ear, "what other sexy adventures do you think I should have?"

Suddenly, I exploded over her breasts. She murmured contentedly as I licked them clean.

Throughout our time living together, and later while married, she continued to have sexy “adventures” whenever an opportunity arose, which wasn’t often, but enough to keep me horny.

We never played together, that was the preference for both of us. It allowed her the freedom to act spontaneously and my creative mind to fill in the details, as I wouldn't learn about her trysts until well after the fact when she decided to share them with me. Thankfully, I never had to wait long.

I learned to crave the taste of her infidelities upon her, from her come-stained lips to her come-covered breasts. I loved how passionately and deeply she would kiss me with that lingering and unmistakable salty taste.

I loved trying to remember all the extraordinarily erotic moments inflamed by her infidelity.

My sexual pleasure always came from listening to her seductive voice telling me her story. I never wanted to watch her in the throes of passion with someone. For me, my imagination was a powerfully erotic aphrodisiac.