The last few weeks have awakened something in me that I find myself unable to turn off. If you’ve been following my life recently you’ll know I’m a happily married 51 year-old woman with a bit of a thing for dressing up and getting off with strangers. My sex life with my husband has always been enjoyable, and we’ve enjoyed the kind of little games and light kinks that most people get up to behind closed doors, but nothing compares to the thrill of being desirable to someone else.
I’ve started to routinely dress provocatively, regardless of where I’m going. It doesn’t matter if it’s the supermarket, garden centre, pub, shopping centre – I get dressed up. Sometimes it’s just a top and tight leather-look leggings, sometimes it’s a dress, sometimes its an above-the-knee skirt – but always with heels, and always with full make up.
Whenever I’m out I can’t help but daydream about some stranger taking a fancy to me. The sheer thrill of that eye contact, the knowledge that you both know what’s on each other’s minds, overwhelms me to the point of obsession.
Only the other day I was shopping at Merry Hill (our local shopping centre). I was alone and browsing in Marks & Spencer. I was wearing a white fitted t-shirt, tight stretchy blue jeans and a pair of matt-black court shoes with a 4″ spiked heel. My dark shoulder-length hair was pinned up at the back. Not over the top, but the killer heels always do the trick.
As I was looking at the underwear section I noticed a man clocking me. He was probably in his 30’s, with his wife and child, and was waiting patiently while she looked up and down the racks. Two or three times I caught him staring at my shapely legs and each time he’d look away when I looked his way. Now I wasn’t going to try and tempt him away from his family, but I did make sure that when I walked past in the narrow aisle I had to brush past him with my bum next to his crotch. I glanced back and he was still staring, to the point where even his wife noticed.
“Erm, hello? ” I heard her say to him. “You can put your eyes back in now” she said, clearly unimpressed with him checking me out.
Even this relatively innocuous encounter made me horny, and I soon found myself in the ladies changing room bringing myself off with my fingers. As I left the busy changing rooms I was convinced a few people had heard me. I also got a strange look as I handed some unwanted garments back to the attendant, my fingers glistening with my juices. This is my life now – I’ve never masturbated in a changing room before, it’s as though I’m permanently in heat.
So now you understand why I’m getting myself into the situations I am, I can tell you about what happened last night.
Hubby and I were invited to the evening reception of a girl in his office. The wedding and reception were at a lovely hotel in the countryside near Bromsgrove. It’s about a half-hour drive from where we live, and we had decided when we got the invitation that we would stay over in one of the rooms.
We arrived at about 6pm, so we’d have time to shower and change before going down at 7pm for the reception. Hubby wore a dark blue suit with a simple white linen shirt and no tie – a classic, relaxed, but smart look which I adore on him. I had decided on a slim fitting, white dress with a blue floral pattern, underneath were matching cream satin bra and panties, nude hold-up stockings and a pair of cream coloured, pointed-toe 5″ stilettos with a half-inch wide ankle strap. Not ideal for dancing in, but fantastic for the bedroom.
As I finished applying my make up I saw hubby was standing behind me, admiring my effort.
“You like?” I asked.
“You scrub up pretty well” he joked.
I leaned forward to fasten the straps of my shoes and then stood up, stumbling slightly. Hubby put out a hand to steady me and leaned in to kiss me. With that, he eased me gently onto the side of the bed. As he did, he kneeled in front of me and pushed my dress up, over my stocking tops to expose my satin underwear.
Placing his hands on my hips he kissed me gently all the way over my stocking tops to the bare skin of my inner thighs, pausing for a moment before placing his lips on the satin triangle covering my pussy. I breathed deeply and could tell I was getting wet.
“Don’t stop” I whispered.
He carefully pulled my panties to one side and placed his tongue on my perfumed lips, and I gasped as he explored deeper.
“Quickly” I said breathlessly, pulling him upwards towards me. “Make love to me”.
He hurriedly undid his trousers and, with me still on the edge of the bed, pushed his cock deep into me. I wrapped my stockinged legs around him and crossed my heels behind his back as he pumped into me. He always loved it when I did this, and with my perfectly made up face looking up at him and urging him on it took no time until he was emptying himself inside me.
Both satisfied, we straightened ourselves up and headed downstairs for the wedding reception.
We began with a drink in the bar with other guests while we waited for the main room to open, and soon were watching the bride and groom take their first dance. The evening progressed rather in the way all receptions do – small talk with people only one of you knows, a little something to eat and plenty to drink. As we were staying over in a room upstairs we made the most of both being able to enjoy ourselves, and by about 9:30 hubby had made his way through 4 pints of Peroni and I’d had a bottle of Rosé. By 11pm we were both quite drunk, but hubby was by far the worse for wear.
It was at this time that the band had finished, the bride and groom had retired to the bridal suite and the bar was closing. It was time for bed.
We said out goodnights to the the acquaintances at our table and headed, stumbled rather, upstairs to our room. We negotiated the keycard to open the door and found our way inside. He discarded his jacket and shoes, and before I knew it he was spark out on the bed. He was going to have a sore head in the morning, I thought.
I remembered that we had some paracetamol and a big bottle of water in the car, so being the thoughtful wife I am decided to go and fetch them and bring them up to the room. I slipped out of the room and back along the short, carpeted corridor, passing the other rooms on my way.
A few minutes later I returned and walked back to our room, swaying ever-so slightly with that contented feeling you get after a good evening.
About half-way down the corridor I dropped the packet of painkillers outside one of the other bedrooms, and stopped to pick them up. As I bent down to pick them up my ear was close enough to the door to hear sounds coming from inside. I suddenly realised that the sounds I could hear were of a couple, possibly the bride and groom, having sex. I focused my mind sufficiently to make out the unmistakeable sound of a bed creaking in strict tempo and the heavy sighs of a woman getting a damned good fucking.
Well of course, with my newly found libido as highly charged as it is I couldn’t resist getting closer and closer to the door until I had my ear pressed firmly against it. My God she was getting a proper seeing-to, and she was letting him know about it too. This all meant that I was now soaking wet and aching to be fucked- not that hubby was going to be the slightest use to me now he was passed-out on our bed down the hall.
It was at this point I heard a voice say:
“You know, some people don’t like that.”
Horrified, I dropped my bottle of water and pack of Paracetamol on the carpet and stood turned to see was there. It was a man of about a similar age to me, who I recognised as one of the other guests – in fact we spoke briefly at the bar during the evening.
“Shhh. Don’t tell anybody – I was just going back to my room and I heard them at it”. I said, pretending to be more sober than I was.
“What, in there?” he gestured.
“Yes” I replied. “Listen!” I giggled.
He leaned in towards the door and smiled as he too heard the sounds coming from within. I then also gathered closer to listen again, and for the next few seconds we were both enjoying the sounds of the unknown couple’s lovemaking and exchanging slightly awkward looks.
I was breathing deeply as the stranger looked into my eyes, the sound of sex still coming from the other side of the door. He kissed me, and I wasn’t going to stop him.
Within a moment we were snogging each others’ faces off. He had me against the wall, groping at my tits, running his hand up and down my thigh.
I pulled away and whispered “Come on. In here.”
I opened up the door to our room and we fell inside, all the while kissing passionately.
My new friend stopped in his tracks. “What the f…?” he exclaimed under his breath at the sight of hubby, out for the count on the bed. “I’m not into threesomes – not with a bloke” he said.
I grabbed him. “Don’t worry about him” I whispered, “He’s not going to bother us.”
Fortunately hubby was only taking up one side of the bed, not that it mattered. I was standing just feet from the bed and the stranger I’d just met in the hall was now kissing my neck (one of my serious turn-ons) and cupping my buttocks.
He moved his hands around and lifted my dress so he could get to my pussy, into which he slid a couple of fingers. I let out a moan as he finger-fucked me for a moment, and I returned the favour by rubbing his hard cock through his trousers.
I moved away and turned to place my hands on the dressing table. Standing facing the mirror I watched as he undid his trousers, took out his penis and lifted my dress over my bum. He pulled my sodden panties to one side and without a single word between us he began to massage my swollen cunt until I could take no more.
“Oh God, please fuck me.” I whispered, still very aware my husband was asleep on the bed behind us.
“My pleasure” he replied as he gently pushed his cock inside me.
Gripping my hips he moved in and out of me, my orgasm rising and falling with each thrust of his pelvis. I noticed in the reflection of the mirror how was admiring the state of me – and why wouldn’t he? Stockinged legs apart, heels firmly planted on the floor, bent over slightly with my underwear and dress still on. Classic slut.
I was loving watching him make full use of my body, and seeing hubby behind him turned me on even more, but I wanted something else. I stood upright and lay on the bed next to my passed-out husband.
“Come here and fuck me. Fuck me next to him” I beckoned.
He was hesitant at first, but I guess the sight of me with my dress around my waist and panties pulled aside was too much to resist. He stood at the foot of the bed and looked at me lustfully as I masturbated in front of him.
“What are you waiting for? I need you to make me cum” I whispered as he climbed onto the bed and kneeled between my open legs.
“Fuck me now” I said, kissing him deeply, exploring his mouth with my tongue as he entered me again.
“Oh that’s it. Fuck me hard. I want you so deep in me” I instructed dirtily as he shagged me, missionary style.
I wrapped my legs around him as he fucked me mercilessly. I was acting like a total slut, and he was treating me like one. He took my legs and pulled them into his body, so that his hands were holding them in place behind my knees. My God it was good – he was pressing against the top of my vagina with each thrust.
Then he took my ankles and held them together, high over his head as he continued to hammer into me. I was sobbing with orgasmic pleasure as the stranger fucked me on the bed next to my sleeping husband.
“Oh God, I’m going to cum soon” he warned.
“That’s ok – just fuck me. Cum in me. Cum on me. Do what the fuck you want” I whimpered as I unhooked my heels from his shoulder and wrapped my legs around him in a vice-like grip – using my stilettos on his bare arse to push him deeper.
His last few thrusts into me were hard and deep that I flooded the bed as I squirted. I came so hard I nearly screamed – urging him on to do the same. A couple more thrusts and he pressed deeply into me, his spunk filling me up so much that it dribbled out of me as he withdrew.
I lay there on the bed, legs apart and leaking cum as he stood and pulled up his trousers.
“God, you’re fantastic” he whispered.
Before he could fasten his zip I sat up and moved to the end of the bed, right where I’d been fucked by hubby only 4 hours ago. I sat, legs wide open, and took his cock in my mouth, licking our combined juices from it. He got harder again, and I began to suck him so hard that before long his cock was throbbing. He placed his hands around the back of my head and I allowed him to determine the tempo of my lips moving up and down his shaft. I in turn had my hands clamped on his buttocks as he began to move his hips more forcefully into my mouth.
I had him balls-deep in my mouth now, his cock pressing down my throat until he could take no more. Unexpectedly, but to my delight, he withdrew as he climaxed and splattered my face with his cum. Not so much this time, but enough to leave lots of pearls of silky liquid on my lips, nose, chin and forehead. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and came again, I looked so slutty.
He composed himself and stood to leave. Without any further words I went to the door and opened it, and he quietly stepped into the hall. As he walked away I saw a couple were coming down the corridor towards me.
I smiled and and said goodnight as they passed me, still fully dressed. They did the same – their friendly smiles dropping as the noticed I had drops of cum all over my face.
I winked and closed the door.
This morning when we woke I revealed every detail to my blissfully unaware husband. He was disappointed not to have been able to watch the stranger in the hall shagging me on the bed, filling me with cum and then spunking over my face, but I made it up to him by sitting on his cock and riding him as I told him all. After he came in me we showered, packed our bag, and drove home.
S.x
(P.S. I had to stop halfway through typing this to bring myself off.)