Mike and I had always been good together—loyal, sweet, domestic in that cozy way that happens after a few years of marriage. But sexually? Something had shifted. Or maybe something had finally awakened. The jokes started innocently enough—me teasing him about his size, him getting red-faced and flustered in that frustrated, adorable, submissive way he does. Then the jokes turned into late-night pillow talk. And the pillow talk turned into fantasies. Then… silence.
Not awkward silence. Just the kind that lingers when you both know what’s being said without saying it.
One night, while he was kneeling between my thighs with his little cock in its stainless steel cage—licking me with that eager, tongue-only worship—I said it out loud for the first time.
“I want more.”
He looked up, eyes wide, lips glossy. “More?”
“I want to feel stretched. Filled. Taken by a man who can give me what you can’t.”…
This hot tub story reminds me of a couple that took us under their wing. Showed us the ropes of swinging in our area.They were older than us. The first rule of swinging was you had to have a hot tub. Because it a reason for everyone to take their clothes off and get the party started.
Tora love your stories. Please keep posting them. Guaranteed to always give me a little wet spot on the front of my pants.