Many of you know what a comic book dork I was growing up in my little Wisconsin trailer park. Looking back, I realize what an escape those stories were for me – especially in the summer, when most of my day would be spent alone while my parents worked.
And while I loved just about any comics that I could lay my hands on, my absolute favorite was the X-Men. And my absolute favorite X-Man was actually a woman… Jean Grey. I loved her for both her power and her own fear of it. She was both beautiful and complex. And her transformation during the Dark Phoenix Saga probably transformed me more than it did her. Because it was then that I realized, at least subconsciously, that a woman could have both a profound darkness in her soul and somehow also be completely redeemable – and even lovable - at the same exact time.
Those stories literally helped to mold me into the woman that I am today.
But it was another storyline that I actually touched myself to as an adoIescent. Over and over and over, in fact. That storyline involved a certain love triangle that arose between Jean, her first love Scott Summers and Logan (the Wolverine).
The cliff’s notes version goes something like this.
Jean is madly in love with Scott. He’s a drop-dead gorgeous metrosexual who wants nothing more than to take care of his beloved Jean for the rest of their lives. But as much as she loves Scott, she’s torn by an uncontrollable sexual attraction to Logan. As it happens, Logan’s mutant healing factor makes him desirable to almost every female in the marvel universe. But it’s his aggressive savagery that attracts Jean the most. Even among the highest evolved and powerful men on the planet (Scott included), Logan is the alpha.
And while the alpha might not always win over the female’s heart in these little games between the sexes, the pussy is another story altogether. And yes, the Wolverine has definitely marked his ownership over that particular anatomical region where Jean’s concerned. Repeatedly, in fact.
But little did I know (until this past week, that is) that for the last couple of years, Jean, Scott and Logan have all be co-habitating in a cozy little lover’s bungalow – and on the Moon, no less! And it’s been suggested that Scott has taken quite a liking to watching Logan ravage his gorgeous ginger wife. And let me further add that Logan’s healing factor – which translates into almost zero refractory peri0d - equally suggests that Scott might just be the luckiest cuck on the planet. Because Logan can simply never get enough of Jean’s tight little married cunt.
All of which can’t help but make me wonder how my Scott might fare if put into a similar situation. And who knows… once we’re empty nesters in a couple of years, pretty much anything is possible.
Wanting to make sexy y0ung guys feel amazing is just how this little wife rolls. But some people in certain online communities like to suggest that being a giver like myself is somehow a bad thing.
But I ask you, when did being a good Samaritan become sooooo damned frowned upon in this country?
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I sometimes tend to speak in sweeping generalizations about humanity and women in particular. But ultimately I realize that each of us is an individual. Some of the things that I might personally be into may not appeal to every wife, and that's absolutely fine.
For instance, tons of women cheat on their husbands. It's just a fact of life. And in many of those cases, her infidelity has nothing to do with marital satisfaction. It often boils down to primal wiring that simply drives her to mate with a variety of healthy males. Which, from a biological perspective, gives her offspring a greater chance of survival.
But as hot as she gets being treated like an absolute sex toy by arrogant y0ung studs in the privacy of a cheap motel bed, that doesn't mean she would be as equally turned on to have her husband present to witness it firsthand. In fact, his presence (even assuming for the moment that he'd be into it) would likely detract considerably from her enjoyment.
Why is that? It could be for a couple of reasons. First off, some of the best sex imaginable to a female is often a little on the humiliating side. That too is a fact. So it's only natural that she, as the mother of his beautiful children, might be somewhat uncomfortable showing her husband a side of herself that he may never have seen before. A side that, for instance, might get insanely wet from being made to gag on a y0ung stud's thick erection. Or, alternatively, the side of her that cums from the type of hair pulling that gives rise to the need for an emergency appointment with her stylist the next day.
But my husband knows more sides of me than most.
So when he sees me moaning like a good whore for my alpha, I experience no sense of embarrassment. In fact, his willingness to be present to witness and enjoy his wife's engagement in such intimate acts with her y0unger lovers only serves to make the experience hotter. And the ability we have to be completely open with one another about our darkest needs is honestly what makes our marriage so strong and beautiful.
It definitely goes both ways too.
I mean just think about the panic that must have been going through Scott's mind the very first time I saw the poor guy get hard at the sight of his wife being bred by a more hung and dominant man.
To say that that could not have been easy may just be the understatement of the century. But the two of us are definitely the stronger for it.
So...... as many of you know, I'm both married and also 'owned' by a dominant alpha stud. Which - don't get me wrong - should literally be every woman's dream. The quandary I'm currently facing, however, is that my alpha wants me to get a rather conspicuous tattoo of his initials. Personally, I happen to love the idea. But someone (Scott) has opted to exercise his veto authority.
Anybody have thoughts on how I might get my sweet hubby on board with this?
The look on my husband's face when my alpha buries his manhood inside of me for the very time during one of our weekends together is absolutely priceless. And no matter how frequently we're together with him, it never changes.
Because as generously thick and long as my y0ung stud is, getting him fully embedded can be a painstaking process that can take up to one or two very slow and excruciatingly delicious minutes. During these precious and intimate moments, the look of wonderment on Scott's face as my pretty little vagina slowly stretches to accommodate my bull is an absolute joy to behold.... When I actually have the luxury to sit back and enjoy it, that is.
Because until I completely adjust to my alpha bull, there are generally moments that can only be described as discomfort. And trust me, that's putting it mildly. It's during these "preliminaries" where Scott often experiences what I assume is only a natural compulsion to intercede out of concern for the well being of his pretty little wife.
If only my husband could appreciate these moments the way a female can.
This entire scenario puts me in the problematic position of having to both manage my husband's unease with certain visual and auditory cues that he's frankly just not accustomed to experiencing when the two of us make love, while also simultaneously trying to accept a very large and sometimes impatient anaconda into my vagina.
Personally, my goal is always to get through these first 2 to 5 minutes as quickly and efficiently as possible. Because the jurassic-sized orgasms that are waiting for me on the other side simply cannot be enjoyed until I do. But ironically, Scott's presence creates a distraction for me that invariably prolongs the very part that he dislikes witnessing the most.
And unfortunately, I sometimes get frustrated with my sweet husband's squeamishness in these moments, resulting in reactions on my part that can often be as spiteful and vitriolic as the utterances of a woman locked in the throes of labor. Ones that often begin with me snapping something akin to "Just because you've never come close to maing a woman feel so fucking full... "
Over the years I've often wondered if it might be better to simply just make Scott wait in the lobby or hotel bar until I've been appropriately sized for the weekend.
But I always come back to the fact that having him see for himself the things that a more endowed man can elicit from his wife - both the good and the bad - is just better for our marriage😊
Feeling especially frisky on this Sunday morning. Do you like the view? Lmk by dropping a like, comment and a tip if you really love it. 😘 I’ll send you a little something special for tipping on this post.
Turns out my lacrosse-playing neighbor cub has something of a fetish when it comes to cougars whose lady parts are a little less than perfectly shaven.
So who the hell am I to deny the sexy y0ung man his fantasy?
And incidentally, hubby has also enjoyed eating it over the course the last few days. Just not in the state my cub left it in yesterday. Yet, anyway😉
It's soooooooo fucking good being a hotwife
For those of you who feel so inclined, this little wife is taking something of a survey before heading off to church on this beautiful Sunday.
So, without any further ado whatsoever, let’s dive right into it.
Are you a dominant man accustomed to taking what he pleases in the bedroom?
Are you educated, confident, cultured and engaging?
Are you under 35 years of age, tall and sexy with the kind of body that makes a little wife bite her lip in wonderment of what might lie beneath your well tailored suit?
Do women reflexively gasp in awe at the very first sight of your manhood, and incessantly praise you for your ability to stretch them in ways their husbands simply cannot?
Do you commonly experience females who are unable to stop themselves from dropping to their knees to worship your cock and scrotum with their pretty little mouths?
And would you absolutely love it if her somewhat older and significantly less dominant husband is present to watch you violate his wife in ways that he simply isn’t capable?
If given the chance, would you bend me over and pull my hair in a way that lets me know I’m not even close to being in charge of the situation.
Would you take me bare and unprotected, the way that nature intended?
Would you beam with pride at my husband as I futiley attempt to muffle my late-night wails of ecstasy with the closest available pillow?
Would you enjoy planting your seed deep inside of my fertiIe cunt, leaving it an absolute filthy mess?
And most importantly, would you be amenable to signing a parental rights waiver… if by some incredible chance you successfully breed me?
If you have zero qualms with answering “yes” to each of the foregoing survey questions, then by all means (please!) DM me pic of your face and shirtless torso. Hubby and I would love to see what’s out there. And who knows. Maybe the two of us will even get to know one another a little bit better.
And don’t forget to cheer on the Packers tonight as they take on my hometown team in primetime. And obviously feel free to enjoy a little ayahuasca while you do. Responsibly, of course 😊
There’s an old saying that goes something to the effect that everything in the world is about sex. Except, that is, sex. Sex is all about power.
From the perspective of this little wife, the adage is 100% correct. Permit me to provide you with a little example.
When Scott and I m👀t up with my alpha, which is usually over a 2 or 3 day peri0d at some random downtown hotel (and lately around the time I’m ovuIating), there is a definite pecking order once the room door closes behind us.
My alpha immediately assumes complete and absolute dominion over my body. And he loves doing it. He flexes his authority by fucking my tight cunt so savagely sometimes that it can almost be difficult to breathe. But I refuse to tap out. Why? Because I fucking love letting him take control of me in front of my husband. I love being the center of a two-male power struggle. Especially one where the lines of demarcation are just clear enough that the risk of any actual physical conflict is low. And obviously one where the alpha of the two assumes his rightful spot between my widely spread legs, while the beta waits his turn to have a go at my already well-bred pussy. It’s honestly a tale as old as nature itself. In fact, it’s precisely where the word “stag” comes from in the vernacular of the lifestyle – the two bucks compete for the female’s warmth and affection, while the loser is relegated to watching and waiting his turn.
And maybe for me, personally, my level of excitement over this scenario has something to do with my cycIe, because around that time of the month I’m SUPREMELY attracted to masculine qualities – such as dominance and heavy, cum-filled scrotums attached to thick and vascular cocks that gently swing between a pair of muscular thighs. And if some slight difficulty inhaling and exhaling is the price to pay to experience such a beautiful and natural thing, then so be it.
I honestly also happen to think that the sadist inside of me seriously enjoys witnessing the conflict simmering just beneath Scott’s surface. Because it’s not always crystal clear that he’s enjoying the scenario unfolding in front of him. One time in particular (as I happened to be lovingly massaging one of my bull’s enormous testicles with the interior of my pretty mouth), I became just concerned enough with his psychological well being that I motioned for him to approach for the sole purpose of confirming that he too is just as enamored as I am by the animalistic dynamic of my relationship to my alpha.
As I deftly released him from his smart and well-tailored slacks while never once ceasing my oral ministry, I was actually surprised by the firmness of the erection that greeted me. Not only that, the very second that the tip of his penis hit the open air, a rather large dollop of precum began to make its gentle descent toward the heavily starched bedsheet. Success!!!
Which taught me that, as much as my husband intimates to me his desires to have an actual three-way with my alpha, where both of them get to simultaneously share in my feminine capabilities, I sometimes think that he’s actually quite content having his VERY loose and sloppy seconds. Which usually happens at around 3am while my sexy alpha drifts off to a very satisfied and well deserved sleep in the other bed.
Such is the life of being a hotwife to the sweetest husband of all time, I suppose 😉
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For a long time my husband kept it a complete secret that he gets rock hard watching hung studs shove their thick, massive cocks into the tight little pussies of women old enough to be their mothers.
Which is sort of sad and unfortunate, because I could have helped him realize his fantasies much earlier in our marriage. But better late than never, I suppose.
More recently I learned that Scott is insanely hot to see me on my back with my legs spread for a black man. And not just any black man will do. He intimated that he wants it to be with a man like our favorite make porn star, Jason Luv - who's blessed with the kind of cock that fills a woman with an instant of trepidation when she sees it for the very first time. Right before millions of years of instinct replace her fear with the unmistakable look of wonder and joy that comes at the prospect of being stretched and filled to capacity by something so big and beautiful. It's a perfectly natural sequence of events that often leaves her panties wetter than they've ever been.
Scott says he goes completely nuts seeing my face knotted in ecsta5y while I'm being penetrated by my sexy y0ung alpha for the very first time when we're together. The funny part is that I used to try and conceal my admiration and appreciation for my alpha's exquisite manhood. It's just what I thought was necessary to spare my sweet hubby's feelings.
But now, thanks to open lines of communication, the two of us know exactly how aligned we are with one another.
Which I hope is still the case after I drop a bit of a bombshell on him later this evening. Because those looks he loves seeing on my face... well let's just say I'm ready to turn it up a notch.
So don't be too surprised if you run across my hubby buying a gross of clothespins at Target this week. He's going to have more than a few pair of my panties to hang 0ut to dry🤣
. It takes a lot to hold up these heavy breasts. . Sometimes you need a little extra support when your want the girls to sit up a little higher. For the days you might need a little extra attention. 😉
Hope the lighting on these are satisfactory 🤣
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It’s not uncommon for an outed hotwife to be routinely accused of selfishness. The format of the critique naturally goes as follows:
“How can you be so selfish as to put your basest human urges over your husband and family?”
To be honest, the criticism is not entirely unfair. I am absolutely prioritizing a very basic need – that much is true. But I would counter that the basis for it is anything but selfish.
Where my husband’s concerned, my “selfishness” is his absolute fantasy – believe it or not – so end of discussion with respect to that. Check and mate.
But let’s take one second to stop and think about this in terms of the service that I’m providing.
“Service to whom?” you ask. To my bulls, of course, as well as to society at large. And before you reflexively dismiss this assertion as a joke, at least hear me out.
Part of being a hotwife is enjoying intimacy with others who share a similar libido. Let’s face facts – women and men simply mature differently in that respect. And has Scott’s sex drive has begun to flag somewhat in the last several years, mine has amped itself up in a way that I never even remotely anticipated. I honestly feel like I could spend a long holiday weekend doing absolutely nothing but spreading my legs for one or more sexy bulls and still be left needing more.
So, to counter this imbalance, I’ve obviously resorted to taking lovers. And in turn, it’s actually increased my husband’s libido in the process. It turns out that men get turned on by competition. Who the fuck knew? So there’s that.
But when you take this line of thinking down to the nitty gritty, the real benefit is to society at large. Because there’s nothing more detrimental to the fabric of a nation than having its gorgeous y0ung studs go unsatisfied. Blue balls, as the saying goes, is the first step toward radicalization. And we definitely could use a little less “radical” in the United States today, wouldn’t you agree?
So how do I help out in that respect? By nipping the problem right in the bud, of course.
I literally have the power to take away a y0ung alpha’s aggression simply by giving him access to the one thing he needs almost as much as oxygen. Which, for he slower among you, is obviously a tight, warm pussy to lovingly milk his huge balls of all of their pent up reproductive anxiety.
And yeah, I might take a bit of a pounding in the process. At the end of our animalistic copulating, it’s certainly not uncommon for my hair to be twisted in knots from the pulling, my ass to be beet red from the spanks designed to show me exactly who’s in charge (it’s certainly not me!), and my mascara to be all over my pretty faces from the periodic gagg!ng on my bull’s massive cock.
And let’s not forget my pussy. Sometimes it’s so stretched and tender afterward that all it can take for several days are gentle lickings from Scott’s sexy and oh-so talented mouth. But even so, these are the types of sacrifices that the two of willing to make for the greater good.
And when my bull savagely grips me by the soft round ass that I have perched up high just for him and begins to pump his huge viriIe load directly into my unprotected w0mb, I can feel confident that I’ve done my part for the good ol’ U.S. of A.
So yes. You’re all very welcome.
It’s no secret that I absolutely love being scandalous. And for me, there’s nothing quite as deliciously scandalous as making out in public with a much y0unger lover.
I mean, let’s be real. Public displays of affection can be annoying as fuck. I fully acknowledge it. Especially when you’re just trying to have a relaxing dinner with your family, and the slut one table over simply cannot keep her tongue out of her boyfriend’s mouth. It literally p!sses me off.
Unless, that is, I happen to be the slut in the question.
I especially love when any onlookers can clearly discern that the y0ung stud whose mouth is currently housing my tongue is not the man responsible for putting the huge rock on my finger. And the disapproving looks from other women my age don’t dissuade me in the least. Quite to the contrary in fact.
I’ll never forget the last time we entertained my y0ung alpha bull for an entire weekend. We generally don’t shy away from taking him out in public, but we will normally at least try to avoid the places that we normally frequent. But even so, you just never know who you might run into. Which is precisely the type of risk that gets my pussy wet.
In any event, it was a brisk autumn Saturday and my pussy literally needed a short break. So we decided to head downtown for some steaks and cocktails. My husband absolutely loves a restaurant called Gibson’s at the intersection of Rush and Bellevue, so – being the sweet prognosticating wife that I am – I fortunately had the foresight to get us a reservation earlier in the day.
The place was packed to the rafters, and our waitress was a blonde cutie named Sarah. We chatted her up a bit and learned that she was a junior at Loyola. I could see my alpha was ogling her in a way similar to how the Tazmanian Devil might size up Bugs Bunny on an empty stomach. So like any appropriately envious bitch, I cooked up what I believed to be a surefire way to turn his attention back to where it rightfully belonged.
Not long after we ordered, Scott headed off to the restroom with a request to have Sarah bring him another drink if she happened to make her way back to the table before his return.
I made my move the second that Scott left the table. With my mouth locked onto my alpha’s in the type of kiss that can only be described as foreplay, I deftly guided his hand to the hem of fluttery skirt. His instincts took over immediately, and within about 4 or 5 nanoseconds his thick middle finger began slowly easing its way into my most intimate part. Success was mine!
But in my paranoia-induced zeal to mark my territory, I failed (dismally!) to factor in the vantage that our sexy little coed waitress would have in the event she happened by while I was sharing this little moment with my bull.
And of course… she did.
“Your calamari should be out any minute. Can I grab you guys anything in the… oh my. I’m soooooo sorry for interrupting!”
My bull’s focus was completely locked in on the tight pussy that he’d come home for the weekend to own. He didn’t so much as flinch at the intrusion, and neither of made even the slightest attempt at that point to conceal our illicit activity from our y0ung new friend. The cat, so to speak, was already out of the bag. And let’s be honest, getting caught being fingered by a lover in public is my fucking jam.
“No worries, dear,” I replied cooly. “Can you please bring my husband another Johnnie Walker blue.”
“And what about you, sexy,” I said turning my attention to my stud. “Do you need anything else?”
“Nope, I’m totally good with what I have” he answered completely on cue.
The two of us were still laughing our asses off when Scott finally got back to our table.
