I fucked up. Big time. Like, the biggest fuck up in the history of fuck ups. Let me explain. I married up, way up. If we had been alive 150 years ago, my wife would be the eldest daughter of the lord of the manor and I would be the lowly sod that mucks out the stables and dares not so much as make eye contact on the rare occasion that she happened to notice me. I know it, my parents know it, both of our siblings know it,...

“Hi, Honey! I’m home!” I called to my husband as I stood in the open doorway in nothing but white stockings and a matching garter. My lover’s cum was dripping down my thighs and my face must have had what could only be described as that of a woman who had recently been well and truly fucked. I stepped inside, tossed the rest of my clothes aside, and closed the door before reaching between my legs and scooping up a dollop...

I feel like I don’t have to want more, be more, accomplish more, or own more. I don't have to prove how smart I am. I know I'm just pretty and sexy and happy, but I think maybe that's enough. Let me tell you a story, and see if you agree. I woke up this morning with my beautiful husband's left arm wrapped around me. I stirred when Bobby started squeezing my boobs. I've heard mean girls tell me that is just a man copping a...

The following morning, Tim was awakened by a strange feeling. Cynthia was bobbing up and down sucking his cock. He wasn’t sure how to react, so he pulled her pussy up to his face. Cynthia didn’t miss a stroke as she lowered her wet pussy onto him. He had no problem having her sex juice for breakfast and was happy to give her some morning protein. He wrapped my arms around her waist and enjoyed licking and lapping her puss...

With all of the ruckus about Delany and Lillian’s disappearance, Tim forgot it was almost Christmas. He rummaged through the boxes in his store room and found his battery-operated twelve-inch Christmas tree. His only decoration. He set it up on his counter and put in the batteries. A flip of the switch and the eleventh celebration of his tree began. Tim popped a beer and just looked at it. It brought back a lot of sad mem...

At nine-thirty, Tim and Pat walked into Elenore’s home. The smell of fresh coffee brewing was the intoxicating fragrance Tim needed. He looked at Pat and motioned to the coffee pot and then to her house. Pat mouthed to him I wish. Elenore came down the hall and joined them in the kitchen. As always, she was dressed in an elegant see-through beige gown. Slippers and pearls to match. Pat was pouring the coffee. “Elenore, yo...

My wife and I didn’t discuss my dreams or my objection to her kissing other men for a week or so. Then, as we were going to bed one night and getting into our foreplay, she decided to start talking about our fantasies. "How about I get in touch with Gina and see if she’s free this weekend?" "Sure," I said. What man would object to his wife arranging a threesome with a woman almost half his age? "Okay then!’ she smiled. As...

It was our first date. It started in a quiet corner of a pub, the chatter was effortless and easy-going. Her smile was intoxicating and the length of her red hair, nearly touching her bottom, and level with the high stools we were sitting on, was amazing. The conversation quickly turned to sex and although I guarded my answers somewhat, I believe she was throwing all sorts of possibilities into the mix. The one that made...

I lifted a pair of rocks glasses to eye level. One was completely empty, but the other still had about a quarter of bourbon left in it, slowly diluting from the ice ball at the bottom. However, what really caught my attention were not the remnants of the liquid, but the deep red lipstick stains scattered in various places around the rim. I closed my eyes and vividly recalled my wife applying that exact shade of lipstick....

I am not much of a dancer, never was. So normally, she hits the dancefloor with a bunch of friends or other women. This wedding was particularly large and the packed dancefloor swallowed her easily. Losing sight of her to the writhing mass of dancers and flashing lights, I returned my attention to the generic conversation happening around who was left at our table. As we engaged in chit-chat, the waitstaff cleared our pla...