After ten years of wedding bliss it’s about to be even more bliss!
“Are you sure about this, James?”
“You picked a beautiful restaurant for our wedding anniversary, darling.”
“After ten years of wedded bliss, it’s the least I could do, Olivia.”
I settled down comfortably in my exquisite leather padded, wrought iron dining chair to examine the menu. There were ten guys to choose from with varying cock sizes, and all were accomplished bulls and daily gym users.
Each bull had three photographs, a bio with personal statistics and their previous ratings. The close up cock pictures leapt off the page and I could almost taste them, salivating, then catching myself and calming down before staring at my husband.
“Are you sure about this, James?”
“I wouldn’t have booked this restaurant if I wasn’t.”
I eyed him carefully, determined that my infidelity wouldn’t harm our marriage but uncertain whether it might. My husband had a desperate look about him with eyes drawn swiftly to any movement or sound around us.
“Champagne for the celebrating couple, courtesy of the gentleman in the corner. He compliments the exquisite beauty of the lady.”
I sat back, incredulous but happy that someone noticed me in that way.
“Oh, that’s unexpected.”
I glanced toward our benefactor, but the area around his table was too dim to discern details. He looked tall, had dark hair and his silhouette suggested athleticism, but without light my perception was incomplete.
My husband looked panicked. A sudden loss of control had knocked him sideways.
“Are you still sure about this, James?”
“I’m sure that’s not allowed.”
My husband nodded towards my admirer, horrified at the thought he’d lost control over my inaugural hotwife fuck. By his fidgeting, conflicted expression and general demeanor, I knew James was on the edge of a breakdown.
Our server placed her hand comfortingly over his.
“It’s allowed, Sir. The gentleman has thrown his hat into the ring and wishes to court the lady.”
“F-f-fu-uck, I-I d-do-don-”
“I’m going to join him husband, just to see what’s available off the menu.”
“B-b-b-but-”
I left my husband with a skewered heart and couldn’t hear his whining at our server by the time I reached my mystery man’s table.
“I’m Dimitri.”
You’re gorgeous.
“Olivia. You should rescue our bottle of champagne from my husband before he drinks it. Bring both glasses, please.”
A twitch of surprise in his expression dissolved quickly, replaced by salacious and absolute desire for me. James had described my hotwife ascension night after night, begging me to violate my marriage vows, and I finally caved in.
Dimitri felt very different to what James, or I, expected. I hadn’t felt this lifted while browsing the menu although I’ll confess it was an exciting prelude. I could get a fuck buddy anywhere, but this seduction was what I needed.
“Your husband is not happy.”
“Tell me about you, Dimitri.”
I accepted my glass, touched it to his when he offered and felt a thin rivulet of shame drip from my soaked French knickers when he toasted and drank from my husband’s flute.
“To your anniversary.”
“It’s been ten years.”
“Has it been happy?”
“Yes, very, but I think the next ten will be much better.”
“You didn’t seem pleased browsing the prime beef on the menu.”
“I’m not interested in a cattle market. I’d like a more exquisite meat, aged, with a deep, rich flavour.”
“I have the main course on simmer, but what do you want as an appetiser?”
“A man who knows when to talk and when to kneel.”
He sipped his champagne, eyed me, weighing up his desire versus my ability to quench it. I was unsurprised when he slipped under the table, crawled to my side and prised my knees apart.
His sharp intake of breath, easily heard by other diners including James, spiked my taboo yearning to become a slut. I felt his tongue sidle gently on my silken thighs, hunting down the source of my musky aroma that was evident even to me.
He licked the slick veneer that seeped plenteously from my knickers, tonguing their lace, then loaded gusset, sucking where my swollen labia were barely concealed, tempting more cream from my overfilling underwear.
My knees were forced together, then his palms slid gently along my outer thighs, ruffling my knee-length black cocktail dress upwards until he could insert his thumbs in the waistband of my French knickers, peeling them down.
He palmed me my soaked knickers from underneath the table and I beckoned my server.
“Send these to my husband, please.”
She offered me a silver tray; I dropped my soiled knickers on it, smiling ironically at how heavy they’d become.
Dimitri’s tongue snaked up my thigh towards his prize and I forgot my knickers, the server and my husband, momentarily wrapped up by the flutters rippling through me.
I saw my server surreptitiously sniff when she picked up my drenched underwear, passing them to an utterly humiliated husband to whom I waved.
Dimitri cupped my ass cheeks, pulled my pussy to the edge of the seat and gently flicked my clitoris with a stiffened tongue, electrifying my body and soul. A billion synapsis exploded in my head when a delightful firework display celebrated as he sucked both engorged petals into his mouth, sloshing, gulping, licking and sucking before swallowing my lady cream.
He moaned, but mine was louder, while enjoying the delectation of a cunnilingus master, far more accomplished than my husband. I tossed my head back, allowing my long red hair to sway like a pendulum expressing the broad scale of my pleasure.
I felt contented that James had a perfect view of my infidelity, finally accepting that he was right all along. I am a hotwife and deserve the company of other men to help my husband in our marriage.
I spread my knees as wide as the table would allow, surprised when two servers came and moved it backwards, exposing Dimitri and my shame. They gripped a six-inch heel each, prising my legs wider.
James had explained that it was that sort of restaurant, and now I was in full view of all other clients, many of whom had turned their chairs around to spectate.
With my legs wide open, James had a perfect view of the head in between them and the man kneeling at my altar, worshiping what my husband had taken in ownership by betrothal exactly ten years earlier.
Dimitri sucked, then licked my slick, hard pearl, savouring each drop of my cream extracted on the tip of his tongue. I moaned louder, encouraged by admiring glances, nods of approval and moans of delight from fellow diners. I saw at least three cocks in the hands or mouths of others and one tragically desperate and totally humiliated husband whose torture fuelled my desire to have Dimitri more.
I gripped the back of my lover’s head, pulling him deeper into my soaking pussy where he lapped gently inside my wet hole. I felt his tongue slide along my perineum when his hands raised both my cheeks, pulling me off the chair so he could rim my puckered anal whorl.
I felt his tongue slip gently over the ridges of my sphincter before he stiffened, pressing deep inside my relaxed rectum while his nose dragged my clitoris from side to side.
He felt my orgasm rise, and prepared by slipping quickly back onto my pussy, vigorously flicking its engorged bean, while fingering my back passage up to his first knuckle of one finger.
I came in a squirting storm of unicorn pee that he gulped, swallowed, then licked and sucked desperately for more.
My legs were prised further apart by smiling, beautiful server girls who seemed to want my orgasm to last forever. Wave after wave of pleasure surged through my reproductive organs that swelled from a massive oxytocin fuelled blood rush.
I knew my marriage to James would never be the same as I watched him, smiling while climaxing on another man’s tongue.
It’s going to be different, and so much better for both of us.
When Dimitri stood up the servers gently released my legs until I sat comfortably.
“I have a car outside and a home nearby. Shall we?”
Dimitri held out his hand, I glanced at James and saw him wanking openly, smiling comfortably. Our taboos were released, and he was acclimated to my new life as a hotwife and his as my cuckold.
I stood up, rifled my hair until it was reasonably tidy, before taking Dimitri’s hand. I collected our bottle of champagne, both flutes and a water hi-ball glass, pulling my lover towards my husband.
I poured a half glass of Moet into the hi-ball for James, offering Dimitri his glass while recharging mine. I paused, stared at my husband, then at my swain, raising my glass in a sentimental salute.
“Happy anniversary, James.”
When all three glasses clinked, I felt every taboo I’d ever held captive in my soul shatter and scatter.
“Happy anniversary, Olivia.”
“All decisions and choices about my partners are mine from here onwards, husband. Is that clear?”
James nodded, and I realised from his expression that the tonguing by Dimitri had taken us safely across a boundary.
“Yes, Olivia is in charge now. I understand completely.”
“Goodnight James.”
“Goodnight sweetheart.”
Outside, Dimitri had a chauffeur driven Mercedes S Class waiting. He opened my door, and just before it closed I saw James, waving a hand glistening with his cum.
Dimitri’s home was a castle nearby in the mountains. I sprinted up the stairs behind him into a massive bedroom with a huge open log fire. He stripped, peacocking his magnificent physique for my pleasure while scattering clothes here and there, before dropping his underwear, exposing an enormous cock.
I took a photograph as he advanced on me, sending it quickly to James before discarding my phone.
James will shrivel with envy.
He pulled my dress up, slipped it over my head, and unclasped my bra before dropping it to the floor. I leapt into his arms, wrapping both legs tightly around him to evenly distribute my weight, spurring heels into his back.
When he kissed me it felt like cold butter skimming across a red hot pan. The sizzle felt appropriately like my wedding day as my memory of that in heart and soul melted into the hairy chest of my lover. I bit my bottom lip gently to tease, bowing my head in submission when the rigid cock nuzzled my hole with a soft and smooth glans.
His palms gripped my cheeks, holding me on the top inch of his cock where I seeped pussy cream down his shaft. He was upstanding without help, and massive to an extent that I couldn’t see properly, but I knew the next cock inside my pussy would be the biggest yet.
He lowered my pussy onto his shaft and I felt my pink cathedral rejoice at the prospects entering its soft tissue walls. At half mast or so, I gasped and felt my love tunnel stretching wide, while watching the fireworks in Dimitri’s eyes as he enjoyed my tight hole. He smiled, we kissed, and he dropped me down his rigid pole until balls deep, crushing my cervix while I wriggled in delight.
I French kissed him while rocking on his solid, veiny cock as he marched me towards my anniversary bed. When my ass hit the duvet, he withdrew, and I felt a pang of longing for more.
He satisfied my stretched hole with another deep thrust, and I dug all fingernails into his back, eliciting a trickle of blood. Dimitri shrugged off the pain and kept riding my hole with a steady stroke, sending me onto climax ridge where I shuddered in a delightful cloud of orgasmic expectation. He placed a palm on either side of my head, shuffled both down to my shoulders while forcing his cock against my cervix.
“You’re pinning me down.”
“I want to enjoy your tight hole and give you the best fucking of your ten-year marriage.”
“You’ve done that already.”
I could compartmentalise the love I had for James with the magnificent prowess of Dimitri. While one celebrated my anniversary alone, the other fucked me to oblivion and I would have it no other way again.
Dimitri’s cock stretched me enormously, and he sped up, pumping me while I raked my fingers through his hair, smiling encouragingly, stretching my legs as far apart as possible.
When I came, I wanted his orgasm inside me and fleetingly thought of how nice a pregnancy might be when his primal seed flooded inside my pussy. His hot swimmers raced into my womb, spreading, to hunt down the precious, birth control protected egg in my ovaries. I felt his want and need to impregnate me, confirmed by the bestial expression glaring down with wanton lust.
When he rolled away, I panted, recovering my breath, noting with satisfaction his exhaustion.
I felt cum drip from my pussy and closed my legs wanting to retain Dimitri inside me for as long as possible.
“I sent a car and summoned your husband. He’s downstairs if you’d like to message him to come and take care of that.”
He nodded at my pussy, passed my phone and stood up, pouring two glasses of champagne.
Come up, clean up, then leave.
On my way!
The door opened a crack, and a sheepish James peered into our bedroom. He spotted me, grew in confidence and strolled in. Dimitri greeted my husband with his massive cock dangling, glistening with our cum.
He propelled James towards me with a gentle, encouraging hand on his back.
“Please clean your wife so we can go again.”
James looked deeply conflicted because we hadn’t discussed cleaning up but, to his credit, he crawled up the bed, wrapped his forearms around my legs and dove right in, licking gently at first, then sucking my labia hard once hooked on the flavour.
I clinked glasses, smiling in celebration with Dimitri while James licked our cum out of my pussy and the anal whorl that was soaked from the dribbling shame of my pussy.
He didn’t make me orgasm because I desperately wanted round two on Dimitri’s cock, but my husband cleaned up meticulously until my lover’s cock was hard again.
When Dimitri tapped my husband on the back of his head my concern flared, praying there would be no disobedience from James.
“It’s time to leave. I’ve had a room made up for you next door. Olivia will see you in the morning at breakfast, James.”
“Okay, Dimitri, thank you.”
James stared into my eyes with lust and in love, smiled, blew me a kiss and nodded his acceptance.
“Goodnight wife.”
“Goodnight, husband, happy anniversary.”
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After ten years of wedding bliss it’s about to be even more bliss!
