#Wife

After some steamy encounters with my cousin, my wife, Emily, had been insatiable, and we'd been tearing into each other nearly every night with raw, unbridled passion. That left my mother-in-law, Diane, feeling a bit neglected in the background. A week or so later, Emily and I dropped by to visit her parents. Diane opened the door with a teasing smirk: "Well, look who's here! It's been ages - you two forget about this old gal, or are you just checking if I'm still breathing? " Her eyes lingered on me as she spoke, a playful glint in them. I leaned in for my usual peck on the cheek, but as Diane's hand slid down my back, she gave my ass a bold, lingering squeeze. With Emily standing right there, my heart skipped, but I managed to keep my cool, brushing it off with a smile. I greeted my father-in-law, Jack, and my brothers-in-law, who were just heading out for the evening, leaving six of us in the house - Emily, our two kids, Diane, Jack, and me. The afternoon passed easily. I played with the kids at the park across from Diane and Jack's condo, the sun warm on our backs as we laughed and chased each other. Back at the house, we cracked open some cold beers, the kind that hit just right on a lazy day. After a couple, nature called, and I headed to the bathroom. As I stepped inside, Diane slipped in behind me, locking the door with a soft click. Before I could say a word, she dropped to her knees, her eyes burning with a fierce, hungry intensity. She tugged my jeans down in one swift motion, freeing me, and wrapped her lips around me with a fervor that sent a jolt through my entire body. Her tongue swirled expertly, teasing the tip with slow, deliberate licks before taking me deep, her throat constricting around me. She alternated between soft, teasing bites and long, greedy pulls, her gaze locked on mine, daring me to lose control. The raw lust in her movements, the way her fingers gripped my thighs, pulling me closer - it was overwhelming. Within moments, I was teetering on the edge, and when she hummed softly, the vibration pushed me over. I erupted, waves of pleasure crashing through me as she took every drop, some slipping past her lips to glisten on her chin. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, stood, and slipped out without a word, leaving me dazed. The whole thing took maybe four minutes. When I finally emerged, the others chuckled, joking that I'd been "handling serious business" in there. Diane's laugh was the loudest, her eyes twinkling with mischief. As evening settled in, we gathered in the living room to watch a movie. The kids, worn out from the park, had napped after lunch and were still out cold. Emily dozed off on the couch, her head lolling against a cushion, and Jack shuffled off to his bedroom for a nap, leaving just Diane and me with the flickering screen. Diane was wearing these skin-tight black leggings that clung to her curves like a second skin - my weakness - and a low-cut red top that hugged her full, inviting chest, the neckline dipping just enough to keep my eyes wandering. Halfway through the movie, she got up to use the bathroom down the hall. When she returned, she paused at the hallway's edge and whispered my name, her voice low and urgent. I crept over, careful not to creak the floorboards. There she was, leggings pulled down to her knees, her round, lush backside bared to me in the dim light. She grabbed my face, pulling me into a searing, desperate kiss, her tongue dancing with mine before she whispered, "Take me - now." My pulse raced as I positioned myself behind her, fumbling with my belt until my jeans hit the floor. Her curves were a vision, full and tempting, and seeing her like that, offering herself in the shadowed hallway, had me throbbing with need. I pressed against her, sliding in with one deep, forceful thrust that made her gasp - a sharp, stifled "Ohh! " Her warmth enveloped me, tight and slick, and I began to move, each thrust deliberate, feeling her body respond with every push. We were hyper-aware of the risks - Emily asleep on the couch, Jack in the bedroom across the living room, the kids' door just inches away. The danger only fueled the fire. Diane's hips rocked back to meet me, her breaths shallow and ragged as she fought to stay quiet. Her hand slipped between her legs, fingers working frantically, and I could feel her trembling, her body tightening around me as she chased her release. The sight of her, the sound of her muffled moans, the way her curves bounced with each thrust - it was intoxicating. When she clenched around me, her orgasm hitting like a wave, her juices coated me, and I couldn't hold back. I buried myself deep, unloading with a shudder, filling her with thick, pulsing heat that left us both trembling. We hurried to the bathroom to clean up, hearts pounding, and checked that everything was still quiet. Back in the hallway, we stole another frantic kiss, hands roaming until I heard my son stirring in the next room. We broke apart, returning to the movie like nothing had happened, though my skin still buzzed with the aftershock. The night ended with Emily and Jack waking up, and we all sat down for dinner. Under the table, Diane's bare foot grazed my calf, slow and deliberate, sending sparks through me. I was hard again, barely able to focus as we ate. After dinner, I helped clear the plates and wash up. As we prepared to leave, Diane caught me in the kitchen, her voice low and teasing. "You coming back soon? " she asked, her eyes gleaming. I grinned, leaning close. "Tomorrow, Diane - that meal was something else."

For nearly three years, I clung to the idea of being "loyal" to my husband. Why? I couldn't tell you. But I can say that every one of those years, my mind wandered to other men, my body ached for other men, my fingers danced almost daily to fantasies of other men. Under a secret pen name, I poured out stories - wild, imagined tales where I surrendered to two, three, five men at once, where they claimed me, devoured me, where I became the untamed woman I hid inside, strutting bare and reveling in endless desires... Then, almost by chance, I met the first lover of my second marriage: Caleb, a young marketing assistant at a firm I visited biweekly for consulting, traveling to his coastal city. We were lovers for five months, the same span I've been entangled with Noah, in oddly similar circumstances. The parallels are striking, but it's the contrasts I want to unravel. With Caleb, it began in June 2012, meeting every two weeks in his city until November, when my contract there wrapped up, just as he got engaged to his girlfriend. He was broad-shouldered but not bulky, with a boyish face, sun-kissed skin, and soft hazel eyes, his smooth chest bare of hair, his voice low and teasing, with a charm that was effortlessly masculine. I was twelve years his senior, seasoned by life, when I drew him in on my third visit - or rather, through flirty texts after catching his lingering stares during a team dinner hosted by the company's mid-level suits. On my next trip, after we'd planned it through messages - this was my second-to-last lover - he met me at the airport and drove me to a dimly lit jazz bar, where a sultry saxophone filled the air, paired with a bottle of merlot and delicate appetizers. Then he kissed me like I was a treasure, because it was clear he was in awe, floored that a young guy, barely established, driving a dented old sedan, from a modest background, was locking lips with the "renowned strategist" hired to elevate his company. Me, with my fair skin and tailored dresses - not as refined as he imagined - a poised, worldly woman in his eyes... but really, a woman tangled in insecurities, craving someone to cherish her, to trail kisses down her wrists, her collarbone, to rest a hand on her hip, and later that night, to peel away her clothes with reverence. In the quiet of his small apartment, he undressed me with deliberate care, each button and zipper undone like a ritual, his own body visibly straining with need yet patient. His lips grazed my skin, a featherlight kiss against my most sensitive place, chaste yet electric, before he traced a path back to my stomach. Then he yielded, letting me guide him, easing him onto the bed. I straddled him, moving with agonizing slowness, my lips finding his again and again, each kiss deepening. His hands roamed my back, steady but gentle, as I rocked above him, drawing out every sensation - his warmth, his pulse, the way he filled me completely. Our rhythm built, unhurried, until waves of pleasure crashed over me, my breath hitching as he followed, his release a shared, trembling surrender that left us tangled in sheets, hearts racing. Strangely, Noah is nearly the same age Caleb was then and, I assume, also sees me as his prize. But his worship is of a different breed, as you'll see. Because of him, I went six days without journaling: I was with him in a far-off city, not his or mine... and I feel partly consumed, a little raw, a touch more reckless than usual, a bit more unleashed after that whirlwind weekend, while my husband held down the fort, picturing me buried in work... if he only knew how deeply I was immersed. I started sleeping with Noah - or rather, he started claiming me - in September, during a trip to Ashton's city. This was just our sixth encounter, always in different cities, but this time I covered his train ticket, the rideshares, the meals, the beers (thankfully, he's not a heavy drinker). If my husband found out - Lord, if he knew half of it! I met him late Saturday night, nearly 3 a.m. Sunday, because he'd barely scraped together enough for the trip and was penniless. I was buzzed and restless, having spent the evening with two friends in that city. After a grueling day of meetings, we ended up at a women's lounge. My bold friends hired some dancers, and I indulged, running my hands over their sculpted arms, teasing until their interest was obvious. My top slipped low, and for the first time - at a seasoned 43 - I considered taking one home... I'd already dropped $400 on their cocktails and my own, but no, Noah was on his way, and it had been weeks since I'd felt his touch, his weight. He'd come straight from his warehouse job to the station, with nothing - not even spare clothes. I bought him a few things, feeling like some cliché, a desperate older woman. But Noah, unlike Caleb, is no soft-eyed dreamer, and he's five years older. A lean, tattooed guy in scuffed boots, sandy hair, and calloused hands, he took me the second we stumbled into the hotel, my body already primed, and I'd stoked his fire in the car. He moved with urgency, our clothes still half-on, my legs splayed wide as he pressed into me with the raw force of his honed 28 years. His thrusts were relentless, almost punishing, each one stretching me, sparking a mix of pleasure and ache. My nails dug into his shoulders, my moans loud and unfiltered, as he drove deeper, his rhythm unyielding. The friction built, my body arching to meet him, until a sharp, shuddering climax tore through me, followed by another, his own release a fierce, searing flood that spilled inside and over me, marking my skin. Exhausted, still tipsy, I collapsed without washing, curled against his chest, his arm heavy across my back. By God's grace, Sunday morning I had a 10 a.m. presentation, so there was only time for a hurried morning tangle before I dragged him to brunch. I was sore, hungover, and frayed, but a stack of waffles saved me, letting me sink into his banter, his gaze fixed on me, his hand warm on my knee. I kissed him, hung on his words, craving him again - which, naturally, we indulged for three hours. After footing the bill (not for him, no, but I paid), I felt like I'd been the one hired. I can't shake the image: my body rocking, my eyes locked on the mirror, on all fours, taken from behind, his powerful frame splitting me open. I moaned like I was performing, raw and unrestrained, as he gripped my hips, his fingers bruising, thrusting with full intensity, from tip to base, claiming me like a possession. Each stroke was a jolt, my body trembling under his strength, my reflection showing a woman lost in abandon, every nerve alight until I shattered, my climax a scream, his own release a torrential surge that left me gasping. How could I not think of a moment five years prior: on all fours, staring into a mirror, taken from behind by Caleb's steady, measured rhythm? But the parallels stop there. Noah's face was all hunger, a primal edge; Caleb's was reverence, almost sacred. Noah's thrusts bordered on brutal, pushing my limits; Caleb moved with care, each slide a question, seeking my response. Noah, tawny-haired, wiry, with ink across his chest and a jawline rough with stubble, a man I'd paid for - not outright, but close enough - to be there that night, taking me with ferocity after I'd fed him, housed him, worn him out. Caleb, olive-skinned, stockier, softer, with a bare chest and gentle hands, who'd pampered me with a gourmet dinner, treating me like a goddess, and in the mirror, moved with a tender cadence, like a slow dance. Yet, forgive me, there's another shared truth: both times, I was swept into a fierce, all-consuming climax, body and soul undone. Both times, they filled me, left me spent... and there the similarities end. Caleb curled beside me, his fingers tracing my skin, as we drifted into a warm, quiet sleep, waking to soft kisses. Monday morning, though, I woke aching, tender, and - panic - with faint bruises on my hips I couldn't explain to my husband if he noticed... fear surged, damn you, Noah... But he saw my unease and softened. He didn't push for more, just held me, murmured apologies, offered gentle touches, and later, on the way to the station, he slid his hand beneath my skirt, his fingers moving with delicate precision, hidden from the driver, as I leaned into his solid frame. I forgive you, my Noah... and I wonder, maybe, yes, about that trip to your place, friend and all.

This is my first story and I will begin by telling you a little about us. My name is Javier, I am 38 years old, tall and with a good physique, I take good care of myself, my wife's name is Daniela, she is 36 years old, she has a very good body, big breasts where what stands out the most are her nipples that are bigger than usual, a very good waist and a big and perky ass, all this very well cared for despite already having 4 children. I have always been attracted to sex and enjoy it without limits, however my wife has always been more shy, demure, due to her family upbringing. I have always been an assiduous reader of the stories on this site which were adding ideas to gradually make my wife was going out of the usual and began to enjoy sex without inhibitions. I began to encourage her to read erotic literature, different books which were opening her mind, she began to be more sexually active. I tell you that she had never masturbated, the typical negative view that some women have of self-pleasure, I was very excited that she began to enjoy her body, to know it, she always dreamed of seeing how she masturbated which excited me a lot. One day I decided to change alarms in my house, which is very big, so I thought this was the opportunity to give free rein to my desire to observe how she acted while enjoying her readings, so I requested the installation of security cameras in various sectors, including my bedroom. So the days went by, the children went to school early and she was left alone at home some days, until the day came. I remember it as if it were yesterday, the children left early, she came back to our room, turned on the heating and went to bed to enjoy reading. I in my office was beginning to enjoy my investment in cameras. She rested her iPad on a cushion to free her hands and give free rein to the fantasies running through her head, unaware that at the same time I was also giving free rein to my own fantasies. Her hands began to slowly climb inside her pajamas, I could see how she was caressing her breasts by the movement of her clothes, however apparently it was not enough and the temperature was rising, so she got rid of her top. I was very excited watching her caressing her breasts while she enjoyed her reading, she was massaging them softly, no doubt she was discovering her pleasure, her body, little by little she began to increase her movements, her excitement was increasing, she not only wanted to touch her breasts that I could already feel how her nipples were hard but also her sex was thirsty to receive her caresses, so she got rid of her pajama bottoms, what a delight it was for me to see this show in the first row. I was very excited watching how she was enjoying her body, she was touching her breasts not softly but squeezing them squeezing her nipples with her fingertips, she was passing them through her mouth to moisten it and massage them more intensely, while with the other hand she was gently massaging her clitoris, she was enjoying her reading while I opened my pants taking advantage of the solitude of my office, I asked not to receive any calls and I started to caress myself while I saw her doing the same. What a pleasure to see how she was gradually getting more and more excited, I heard her moans of pleasure and how she increased the intensity of her caresses, which I was also doing as I felt how hard this show was making me. She ran her hands through her sex and then took them to her mouth to feel the taste of her excitement, faster and faster, I felt that she was about to reach her climax because of the speed of her caresses and the intensity of her breathing, faster and faster until her body writhed with pleasure a great moan left her body at the same time that I released all my pleasure also with the satisfaction of the first fantasy fulfilled.