JustFantasies

There are some things I fantasise about. Mostly transgressive things. Not necessarily my own but ones I imagine others having. Not necessarily things I would do - or even want to actually happen. That's why they're fantasies. This means mature content and not for Under-18s

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I had been so nervous about cheating on my husband but now I couldn't wait

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It was a hot day last August and we were saying goodbye to Stephen. When I was 43 I lost my job with the Council. My husband is in a well-paid position and our daughter had moved out so I decided to set up my own business running a café in our local High Street. Stephen was there from the beginning. Seventeen years old and straight out of school he worked in the back room doing the computer stuff and making up orders etc. Now, four years on, he had grown from a boy to a good-looking young man and was leaving to start a college course in IT. 

At the end of his last day, at 5:00, we locked up and did the usual clearing up. Then I opened a bottle of Prosecco and poured a glass each for myself, Stephen, Kelly and Marie - our two waitresses. We toasted Stephen’s future and chatted for a while before the girls slipped away through the back door and Stephen and I were alone. Over another glass we talked about the last four years and about how we would miss each other until at last he put his glass down and said “I suppose that’s it then.

It was only meant to be a motherly hug. Honest. I put my arms around him and somehow, instead of a matronly kiss on the cheek I planted my lips firmly on his. Moments later our tongues were thrashing against each other. They say that when women get to my age our hormones do funny things. Mine were now thoroughly in control as I pulled his t-shirt out of his pants and started to caress his taut young abdomen. In response he unbuttoned my blouse and began kneading my small but sensitive breasts, my nipples throbbing as they hardened under his hands. Pulling his shirt up and over his head I stroked his hair as his head descended to my chest and his teeth nibbled my aching nipples.

Lost in the urgency of the moment I feverishly unfastened his pants and pushed them down over his young, muscular arse. His cock was already mostly hard and I wrapped my mature hand around it, stroking it to full rigidity. In that moment nothing existed - not my husband, the café, the fact I was a quarter of a century older than him - other than the need to feel him inside me. Moments later he had hitched my skirt up to my waist. He lifted me and planted my bum on one of the tables then I felt his fingers pulling on my panties. I raised my hips and let him take them, then he knelt between my thighs and I felt his hot tongue gliding between the folds of my mature married pussy.

He may only be twenty-one but he was clearly no virgin. He knew exactly what he was doing as his tongue probed inside me and rolled over my clit sending jolts of excitement and joy through my body and feeding my need. My hands on his shoulders I encouraged him to rise between my spread thighs then guided his cock to my entrance before, with a long, thrilling glide that made my body shudder, he penetrated deep inside my married pussy. With long, leisurely, delicious strokes he began to fuck me, his shaft teasing every nerve inside me, sending ripples of pleasure out from my groin to wash through my body.

At forty-seven my hips couldn’t take that position for long. Pushing him off I turned and bent over the table, spreading my legs to what I hoped was the right extent. A moment later he was inside me again, now thrusting with youthful vigour, his groin clapping against my arse as his cock pounded inside me sending wave after wave of joy through me; waves that grew in intensity and power, coming faster and faster, merging and swelling. God! It felt like my whole body was glowing. Orgasm roared through me like a train as I gripped the table and shook with pleasure and joy lasting for what seemed like eternity. As it began to ebb I heard Stephen grunting behind me. Another power surge of pleasure rumbled through me as I felt him swell inside me and I felt the heat of his semen inside me as, with three, four, five deep thrusts he emptied inside me.

We were still for a minute then his softening shaft slipped from my still-quivering pussy and he stood back. I stood up and turned to him “I’m sorry. I don’t know what….” he began. I held up my hand to stop him. “Think of it as a surprise going away present” I said as I retrieved my knickers and put them on. "For both of us". He too sorted his clothes. “You won’t be…?” he asked looking at my stomach. I reassured him that at my age the last thing I wanted was a ‘surprise’ and that I was very assiduous about birth control.

And so we parted. This time with that intended kiss on the cheek. I told him I’d be thinking about him at college. Three months on I do think about him. Sometimes, when my husband’s away, with my hand between my legs

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I couldn’t believe it. Nearly nineteen and confidently telling my parents their daughter is ready to start university, I’d confidently made arrangements to visit a few weeks ahead of enrolment, confidently arranged transport from my home town and confidently booked a hotel room. For the wrong night. “I’m sorry,” the receptionist was saying, “We’re full. The other hotels probably will be too. Time of year”

Confused I picked up my backpack and went through to the hotel bar, bought a drink and sank onto a bench trying to work out what to do next. After a moment I realised a woman sitting nearby was watching me. She seemed to be in her late thirties and had bobbed shoulder-length brown hair and piercing blue eyes. She got up and came over to me. “Is everything all right?” she asked and I told her my problem. After a moment she said, “You need somewhere to sleep. Look. I was supposed to be meeting someone here tonight but it’s fallen through. You can come in with me if you like. My name’s Claire” Presuming she had intended to meet a man - an affair perhaps - I thanked her and agreed. We had another couple of drinks then she led me to her room.

The first thing I noticed was that there was only one double bed. I froze for a moment but it was too late to back out now, even if I had somewhere to go. A little self-consciously I undressed, imagining she was watching me. I took off my bra and put my t-shirt back on and got not bed dressed in that and my panties. Facing outward from the centre of the bed I watched as Claire, naked, walked into the bathroom. For a woman of her age her arse was immaculate; curvy and unwrinkled. As she came back out I saw that her breasts were full and seemingly still firm and that her crotch was shaved.

She got into the bed behind me. After a few moments she moved closer and I felt her breasts pressing into my back and her warm breath on my neck. It was erotic, arousing in a way I’d never experienced before. Her hand glided over my hip and my mind whirled. “I have a boyfriend” I stammered. “I’m straight” “The two aren’t at all the same thing” she said huskily, her breath warm in my ear as her hand slid under my t-shirt to caress my stomach. “And if you’ll take the advice of an older woman, you’re 18, starting a whole new adventure. Forget labels and embrace new experiences. Is that what you want?” Her hand cupped my left breast, her fingers teasing my hardening nipple. “Yes” I gasped.

“Good” she said, turning me on my back and pulling my t-shirt up and off. A moment later she was kissing me, her tongue rolling sensuously over mine as her hands moved over my breasts, my hips, my thighs. Her thigh ground against my crotch and I felt her pussy moving on my leg as our kiss grew more intense and our bodies moved against each other. Her lips moved to my neck, teasing the sensitive flesh. Then slowly - achingly slowly - down to my breasts and my now throbbingly hard nipples.

Lower. Down over my stomach until her head was between my thighs. Looking up at me she hooked her fingers into the waistband of my panties. “Last chance.” she said with a lascivious smile. “You’re sure about this?” By way of answer I lifted my arse to let her take them. I closed my eyes and trembled with excitement and pleasure as I felt her tongue slide between my pussy lips, probe at my entrance then arc up and over my clit and down and under to tease my anus. Over and over her tongue rolled over my wet pussy creating sensations I'd never experienced with my boyfriend.

She turned and straddled my head. I had never seen a woman’s vagina close up like this before but I started to imitate what she was doing to mine. The musky scent of her crotch was intoxicating as I brought my tongue to bear on her pussy, lapping at it and tasting the sweet-saltiness of her juices. Her tongue moved faster and more furiously on my clit and the waves of pleasure flowing from my crotch grew more and more intense. Wave after wave until she slipped a finger into my rear and it tipped me over the edge and a surging roaring orgasm flooded my body. Desperate for her to feel that good I lashed my tongue at her pussy until I felt her thighs clamp around my head and tremble and her juices cascaded into my mouth.

Trembling we lay together. “Wow. She murmured. “You are a fast learner." We snuggled up with each other and shortly after I fell asleep. That was six weeks ago. Now I’ve started university. How do I feel about what happened? Am I straight? Lesbian? Bi? All I know is that I’m starting a whole new adventure. I’m going to forget labels and embrace the experiences that lie before me.

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Kerry and I have been married for eleven years and we’re both 34 now. We met at university and you can probably guess the rest. We decided early on that we didn’t want children so Kerry got an IUD and I got the snip. Years passed and sex got regular and, I guess, a bit samey. Until last week.

I went to work as usual. Got settled in my office, fired up my computer, checked my mail and got down to work for an hour or so. Then the fire alarm went off. I hurried to the nearest exit a few seconds after the sprinklers came on. We gathered outside and it became clear that this was no false alarm, that a whole lot of cleaning up would be required before anyone would be back in the building and that we might as well all go home. Which is what I did.

Even as I opened our front door and entered something told me something was amiss. Kerry seemed to be nowhere around. I stopped and listened. There were noises. Soft creaking noises, rhythmic and regular, soft persistent thumps, the sounds of heavy breathing. Part of me guessed at what I was hearing. Part of me had always wondered if Kerry was the faithful wife I had always thought her to be. Part of me had always imagined this moment.

Slowly I crept up the stairs. and the sounds grew louder. The heavy breathing became moans, the creaks became sighs, the thumps became the rocking of our bedhead against the wall. Already I was picturing what was happening and it created a knot of jealousy in my stomach but also, to my surprise, an insistent arousal in my crotch as I got closer to the door of our bedroom.

Peering in through the gap between the door and the doorframe I could see Kerry on her back on our bed, her legs spread wide. Between them the taut buttocks of a young man rose and fell with  firm vibrant rhythm, driving his cock deep into my wife. Maybe I should have stormed in. Maybe I should have asserted myself and thrown him out. But there was something about what was happening - the sounds and smells of sex in the room - that riveted me to the spot.  Something that hardened my cock and made it throb against the constraints of my pants until I unfastened them, took it out, and started stroking it.

I watched his taut young arse dimpling as he fucked my wife. I listened to her moaning and panting as he took her on our bed. I looked on as her hands clutched at his shoulders, glided down his back and cupped his buttocks, urging him into her. “Yes. Oh God YES! Fuck me!  “ she moaned “Harder!” In response his thrusts grew more forceful, more rapid. Her moans and the sounds of flesh on flesh became louder. As I watched my hand moved on my now throbbingly hard cock. Then in my excitement I pushed against the bedroom door and it creaked. In a moment everything stopped. The young man - it turned out he was a student at the college where my wife works - huddled fearfully against the bedhead and Kerry looked at me, shocked.

Then she saw my cock in my hand and a questioning look passed across her face. Her eyes fixed on mine she slowly guided her lover onto his back. Watching for my reactions she got astride him and guiding  his cock, glistening with her juices, to her pussy, she sank, moaning, onto it. She began to ride him. Slowly at first, gauging my reaction, then letting go and surrendering to her instincts. She rode him passionately. She rode him forcefully. She ground and rocked on his cock as I moved to the dressing table and plucked a wad of tissue from the box that lay upon it. Her thrustings and  grindings got wilder and faster until, her body shaking, she fell forward, howling into the bed beside his ear, “FUUUUCKK!!!” as she came on his cock. Almost at the same moment I  experienced an amazingly intense orgasm and  I pumped my load into the tissues.  Coming down from it I watched as the young man continued to thrust into Kerry’s quivering body. Moments later I heard the him grunt and cry out and I knew that he was emptying his balls deep inside my wife.

As she and the young man lay quivering and panting on the bed I left the room and our house. I walked for a while. Thought for a while. Something life-changing had happened and I knew it. When I got home the young man had gone and Kerry and I talked. About our needs. About our fantasies. About what we had just experienced. The upshot? He’s coming round tonight and I’m excited to see what happens

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I’m still processing. A couple of weeks back I attended a class reunion: ten years since we left school for college, work or whatever. I packed a small case and, as I was leaving, my husband kissed me and said “Have a great time. I want you to have fun tonight.” I hugged him and said, “I’ll try” before getting into my car and setting off in time to arrive for the lunch that had been arranged.

My year group was pretty big so they had booked an entire hotel for the event. Over lunch I had the chance to chat with some old friends and avoid some ex-boyfriends. I laughed a lot. I hugged a lot. I shared lots of stories and made lots of promises to stay in touch knowing that I probably wouldn’t keep. By mid-afternoon people were drifting away so I headed for my room, lay down and slept off lunch for a few hours. Soon it was time to get ready for the evening’s event.

I walked into the hotel’s events room looking, I thought, at least moderately stunning in my best make-up and what I call my ‘party dress’: red and low-cut with a mid-thigh hem. For a while I mingled, glass in hand until, after an hour and a half I found myself at the bar ordering a red wine. My third. Now I should tell you I’m usually careful about this. Red wine has a tendency to make me - you know. Horny. Maybe my husband’s suggestion of fun had loosened my inhibitions a bit. After a minute I was joined by a guy I vaguely remembered from my geography and history classes and we got talking. I became aware of him glancing at my cleavage and that I was enjoying the attention.

Wine drunk we made for the dance floor. His arms were around me, drawing me close and his musky scent filling my nostrils. As we moved together I felt his hand move to my arse and I began to caress his back and sides. Here and there around us couples were pairing off and leaving the room and, after a few minutes we were one of them. I’d like to say there was a part of me that was hesitant or wracked with guilt over what was about to happen, but in that moment I wasn’t a married woman but a giddy schoolgirl filled with erotic excitement.

My room was closer than his. My hand trembling a little I flashed my card at the lock and we were inside, him kicking the door closed behind him. He pulled me into a kiss and I parted my lips for his tongue as it stabbed and rolled over mine. As our hands caressed each other’s bodies they pulled at clothes and sought out skin. My dress, unzipped, fell to the floor and his hands cupped and caressed my breasts. My hands, shaking, unfastened his pants and pushed them over his arse and off.

Naked we tumbled onto my bed, his thigh pressing and grinding against my crotch, his mouth on my breasts, panning between my now bullet-hard nipples. My fingers circled his rigidly solid cock,  as a growing sense of urgent need built within my increasingly wet and wanting pussy. Lying back I spread my legs and he nestled his hips between them. I could feel his cock gliding between my pussy lips, lubricating itself with my juices. I slipped my hand between us and guided him to my entrance gasping “Here…. Here”.

I moaned a deep husky moan as his cock glided inside me giving a nice sense of stretch without discomfort. Then, with long sultry strokes he started to fuck me. I stroked his arse, urging him into me, my hands gliding up his back to clutch his shoulders. After a while he picked up the pace and my hips rose and fell to meet his thrusts. Waves of joy flowed from my pussy out into my body and began gradually to merge. Sensations swelled inside me as his cock filled me over and over. I began to clutch at his shoulders, his sides, the sheets, anything as I began to writhe frantically beneath him. Faster and faster he fucked me and ever more intense the sensations inside me became until, my body shaking and all the lights coming on in my brain, orgasm roared through me and I held him to me tightly. After a few moments of pure undiluted joy, I heard him grunting in my ear and felt his cock swelling and throbbing inside me as with a few long, deep strokes he sent waves of his warm cum deep into my pussy.

We held each other, shaking, for a moment. Then he rolled off and we went to sleep. In the morning little was said. We had little in common other than a few shared classes and a simple, uncomplicated but highly satisfying fuck. In the car I began to worry. Should I tell my husband? What would he say? Arriving home he asked me if I’d had fun. “Yes,” I said. “But there’s something I should tell you…” He put his finger to my lips and asked “Did you enjoy yourself. I nodded dumbly and he said, “That’s all I need to know.”

And so I’m processing. Does this make me a ‘hotwife’? More importantly, how did I get so lucky as to marry such a loving and wonderful man?