In the earlier years of our marriage, my husband, Kevin, and I realized that we’d done almost everything we could think of to keep feeding our extraordinary libidos in a monogamous relationship. We discovered the wonderful world of the Dominant/submissive lifestyle and embraced that with gusto. I signed a sex slave contract and gave myself to my Master willingly. This led to our foray into BDSM and my realization that pain can induce pleasure for me.

I relished being tied up, and he reveled in using a variety of sex toys to play with me. Nipple clamps and handcuffs became the norm, as did pushing the envelope to find large items to fuck me with. After all, I had to earn his cock. It was during this time that my oral skills went from decent to off-the-chart. If only excelling at giving head was something you could put on a resume.

Still, we eventually came to a point where we felt there needed to be more. While we were still very much in love, we both agreed that it would be exciting to try including others in our sex life. We found the perfect couple to swap with—our best friends, who were thrilled when we approached them.

We will skip over all the ugly parts; suffice to say, it was a great idea until it wasn’t. There were too many hidden feelings and emotions, and it all blew up in our faces. Sadly, their motives were different than ours.

We tried a few random hookups, but those were equally unsatisfying for the opposite reason. Without feeling any connection to others, it was just ordinary fucking and seemed pointless. The part that remained exciting, however, was the incredibly hot sex we would have with each other afterward. So, we agreed to keep looking for what would give us that sexual high without compromising our standards.

We started researching options such as cuckolding and hotwifing. The former didn’t seem to be a good fit, as my man is an alpha-dominant male, and I have no need or desire to humiliate or denigrate him. But the latter posed some intriguing possibilities.

As luck would have it, a colleague of mine expressed frustration with his marriage. His wife did not enjoy sex due to health reasons, which left less-than-stellar blow jobs or self-love as his only options. He deeply loved his wife, but he missed the feeling of his cock sliding into a hot, wet pussy. I suggested there may be another way to take care of his needs.

Sam was the perfect addition to our bedroom. With him, we explored different scenarios that included hot wife sessions (followed by reclaiming), threesomes, and the crème de la crème: being double penetrated. His cock was smaller than Kevin’s, so Sam got to enjoy my very tight ass on many occasions. He was like a kid in a candy shop and was always so appreciative of our sexual escapades.

I started going to work early to meet up with Sam for oral sex in the supply room or under his desk. It was risky and erotic, and it ticked all the boxes for us. Kevin was thrilled that I was enjoying myself, and he was always eager to reclaim me as his submissive slut.

But eventually, all good things come to an end. While I was pregnant with my second child, Sam came to my house in the afternoon for some hot pregnant sex. We sucked and fucked like animals, and I came several times. However, Sam did not. He admitted that he was starting to feel guilty about fucking another man’s pregnant wife while his own wife wanted to be pregnant more than anything. He reluctantly broke things off so he could focus on being more supportive as she worked to find a doctor who could treat her issues so that sex would be less painful for her. It was the right thing to do and very admirable. But it left a hole in our sex life.

At this point in our lives, finding in-person fun opportunities was hard. Kevin was traveling so much for work, and I was attempting to balance full-time work with motherhood.  Plus, his status as a global business owner and mine as a pillar of the community would have been too easily compromised by going back to meeting random guys.

So, we did a little research and found a (now defunct) adult chat site. I connected with both men and women and was able to appease my ridiculously high sex drive in a way that worked with my schedule and kept our friends and neighbors clueless about our depraved proclivities. Then, when hubby came home, he would reclaim me. The sex was absolutely amazing!

That’s when a man named Rick came into the picture. I met him on an adult chat site. We hit it off instantly, having many similar interests both sexual and otherwise. He assumed I was Polish because of my name, Katarina. Since he found that a turn-on, I didn’t correct him, which became a challenge when we took our nightly chatting from messaging to talking on the phone. Fortunately, I grew up in a predominantly Polish neighborhood in Detroit and managed to pull off a convincing Polish-American accent in my efforts to keep a bit of anonymity.

Rick’s reasons for chatting online were different than mine. He was divorced because his marriage went off the rails when his wife decided to cheat on him. Although they had been playing phone sex games with other couples, she took things further and met a guy in person without telling him. He couldn’t get past her indiscretion and decided it would be better to split. So, he was looking for some no-strings-attached sex in his local area.

Local, I was not, but I’m apparently a helluva lot of fun to converse with. We connected on a myriad of levels, including our penchant for non-vanilla encounters.

We talked about all kinds of things, not all of them sexual in nature, and we became long-distance friends with benefits. He was happy to be the bull to our stag and vixen lifestyle. And, as always, the reclaiming sex between Kevin and I was hotter than fuck!

After about a year of remote fun and games, Rick asked if I would ever entertain meeting in person. I discussed it with Kevin, and we both agreed that it was titillating to think about me flying to another city for the purpose of getting fucked. But we wanted to make sure I was safe.

Rick wanted me— so much so that he offered reassurance in the form of telling me his last name, where he worked, and that he had a seventeen-year-old daughter who was his whole world. He could have been lying, but I did a little research and was able to confirm that all of what he said was true. I told him I would give it some serious thought.

About a month later, after a phone sex session that left my body quivering after an intense orgasm, Rick said, “Come to Houston, Kat. Come and be mine for a weekend. I can make love to you and fuck you like a dirty little slut. You can show off your oral sex prowess, and I can return the favor.”

I hemmed and hawed a bit until he said, “Come on, Kat. If you fly, I’ll buy.”

I told him I’d think about it.

The next day, with Kevin’s blessing, I texted Rick.

Before I agree, I need to be honest about something.

His response was priceless.

Oh, damn. Is this where you tell me you’re a dude?

It made me laugh.

Rick, we’ve spoken on the phone. I think you would have known before now that I’m not a guy. It’s nothing earth-shattering. I just wanted you to know that I exaggerate my accent when we have phone sex because I know it turns you on. I don’t have much of an accent at all.

My phone rang.

“Katarina, I don’t give a fuck how you talk as long as you’re not a man. Nothing against men, I just prefer pussy over dick.”

“Then, if you’ll buy, I’ll fly.”

So, Rick bought me a plane ticket to go to Houston and be his slut for a weekend.

It was Kevin’s idea that I should be denied any orgasms for a week before my trip. He knew that leaving me frustrated would make me that much more willing to beg Rick to use me. He wasn’t wrong.

By the time I landed in Houston, I was grateful that I’d worn panties under my skirt on the plane. They were soaked, and I felt like a bitch in heat.

While we had exchanged pictures of each other, neither of us realized the incredible height difference between us. He was about six and a half feet to my diminutive five feet and a couple of inches.

He greeted me with a kiss and touched my red hair as if mesmerized by its shade. Then he grabbed my suitcase from the baggage claim carousel, and we headed to his house. I was nervous and giddy at the thought of finally feeling him inside me.

But the ride home was awkward, and our conversation seemed stilted. I started to worry that maybe this had been a colossal mistake. Maybe some fantasies are better left as such. I tried not to feel disappointed. Still, I held out hope. After months and months of online and phone fuckery. Surely, he didn’t plan to fly me there to hang out and talk. I sat in the uncomfortable silence, reminiscing about all of the erotic encounters we’d had while hundreds of miles apart. Those thoughts had my body humming with need.

When we reached his place, I could feel my juices beginning to drip; my panties were too drenched to absorb another drop. He took me in his arms and kissed me passionately. Then he told me that he’d been agonizing all evening over whether to treat me as a lover or as a slut.

I smiled and looked at him seductively. “Why not both?” I asked, unbuttoning my blouse.

I could tell he was even more nervous than I was. I wondered for a moment if I wasn’t living up to his expectations. My facial expression must have given away my thoughts because he took my hands in his, inhaled sharply, and said, “You are more beautiful than I imagined, and it’s been a bit of time since I’ve touched a woman, let alone do all the things I want to do with you.”

I felt myself relax.

“A part of me would like to rip your clothes off, spank you, and pound into your pussy. But another part of me would like to take you to dinner and woo you as a gentleman should. It’s quite a conundrum.”

“How about we start with dinner? It might be easier to ease into things after a meal and some drinks. Is what I’m wearing okay? Or would you like me to change?”

“You look fabulous just the way you are,” he said gently. “I want you to know that I promised you some hot sex this weekend, and I intend to make good on that, I swear. But let me enjoy your company for a bit first.”

“I’m here all weekend, Rick; there’s no rush. We can’t possibly fuck the entire time, although that is fun to think about.”

I used the restroom, ditched my undies, and dabbed a hint of my favorite perfume on my wrists and neck. I hoped things would improve, though I was starting to doubt whether this was something I wanted. Still, I was here and ready to give it my all.

Dinner wasn’t fancy, but it was a nice restaurant, and the meal and the wine were tasty. The conversation, on the other hand, was spectacular, and by the time we left the restaurant, Rick couldn’t wait to touch me. Before pulling out of the parking lot, he reached under my skirt to find nothing preventing his eager fingers from penetrating my juicy hole. His thrusts, combined with intense arousal, got me off quickly. I drenched his hand and the passenger seat of his car.

“Oh, fuck, Kat! You’re so wet,” he moaned. He lifted his fingers to his lips and enjoyed the scent and taste of me. Then he grinned wickedly. “I think I’m ready for the portion of the evening where I use you like the dirty little slut you are.”

“Are you trying to make me wetter, Rick? Because it’s working. I flew a long way to feel your cock inside me.”

“You’re going to have to earn my shaft in your pussy, baby. I want to feel you lick my balls with my cock lodged deep in your throat.”

I felt a shiver of desire run down my spine. There he was, the man I’d been having deliciously naughty encounters with for months. Suddenly, I knew this was exactly what I wanted and needed. I sent Kevin a quick text.

Slow start, but I believe I’m about to be used as a fuck toy.

Kevin’s response was decadent.

I love you so much. You’re the best wife any man could have. I can’t wait to hear about it. And when you come home, I’ll take back what’s mine.

To be continued…