Home discussion Lifestyle Discussions True Experiences Uncommon Family: My Wife and Daughter

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    I know some may find all this difficult to believe, but it’s true. I place our story here for others who may find it worthy of note. The names may or may not be accurate; I’ll leave that minutiae to your imagination. A warning, though, to any readers with a brief attention span: This is not a short manuscript.

    Until my wife Mary Ellen finally relented, I had pleaded her to consider dating other men for some two years. I wouldn’t recommend that other men attempt to duplicate our particular circumstances though. Personality differences within any family are far different from those in ours. My wife ultimately made me a cuckold, a word I hadn’t considered until she conclusively identified me as just that.

    “Mary Ellen” seemed too long a name, although she had been called that all her life before marrying me. We shortened her name to “Ellen.” And because our step-daughter Abby has lived with us since age 4, we call her “daughter.” Abby has never questioned the term, and it feels right to me. Her young father passed away before I met Ellen.

    Ellen wasn’t offended by my request to fuck others but found the idea to be, as she said, “weird.” Our sex life had become a bit stale over 16 years of marriage. I’m now 40. Ellen is 39 but erroneously taken by others to be around 28 to 30. She is 5″7″, fit and slender, with brown hair and brown eyes. We’re church people but have an open mind about sex.

    I consider my wife’s ultimate acceptance of the idea to have begun when our daughter was in her last year of high school.

    It happened like this. For six years, my wife, daughter and I had been running each morning at 6 a.m., two miles a day along a grassy, mile-long trail. The forested path begins 40 yards from the west side of our home. During a run a year before, Ellen stopped running after a minute or so. She sat down and complained of knee pain.

    Two days later, our family physician diagnosed the problem as the onset of mild, but bothersome, arthritis. He gave her injections in her knees that took care of the pain but told her she should start walking, not running, for exercise. Ellen began brisk morning walks in a different direction while our daughter and I ran the usual route.

    After the first mile of our runs, Abby and I typically stop and sit on the ground, our backs against trees, facing the other for a couple of minutes, then run back to our home.

    But on this day, she looked up said, “Dad. I need some counseling. But it’s personal. I feel uncomfortable asking you.” She removed a running shoe and massaged her foot. Being uncomfortable isn’t a normal condition for her, so I assumed this was serious.

    That was a Saturday. I wasn’t going to the office and she wasn’t going to school. My wife would be leaving for her bridge club before we returned anyway, so I said, “Okay. I have time.” When a kid says something is “personal” and feels “uncomfortable” talking about it, a parent should first respond with just what I said. “I won’t judge you. I have an open mind, and I want you and I always to be honest as reasonable .”

    Abby blushed. “It’s about sex. That okay?” When she looked away with obvious hesitation, I added, “Just lay it out. I’ll do my best to give you all the info you want. If you feel awkward, tell me and we’ll stop.”

    She bit her lower lip and said, “I know you’ll ask why I don’t ask Mom instead. I love and respect her, but I feel more comfortable with you. I think you’re less judgmental, if you know what I mean.”

    I glanced at her curiously, unable to comprehend any real problems. I had been told by my wife that our daughter is rather well-liked at her prep school, so I assumed that meant some degree of popularity with boys as well. She had been dating a couple of years but had no steady boyfriend since she was 14. That relationship lasted only a couple of months. Her height is the same as my wife’s, but – like me – our daughter is blond and blue-eyed.

    I nodded. I wasn’t then sure what she meant. “So what’s the problem?” I said.

    She said, “Is oral sex or masturbating a guy ‘bad?’

    I looked uncomfortably at the sky and said, “This could take awhile. Why don’t we start by your telling me about your experiences and what you know?”

    I hadn’t anticipated how much that request would bring up. Abby had masturbated some of her dates. She had given oral sex to two of her most recent dates. Each of those two wanted to fuck her but she resisted. She gave more details than necessary, but for some reason I was enjoying the descriptions of her sexual encounters. And she used a word I hadn’t anticipated when she said, “Frankly, I wanted him to fuck me. He had a condom. I’m afraid that isn’t reliable.”

    I began to regret my promise of open manner but said, “Well, look, the desire to have intercourse is normal for anyone your age. It’s a ‘new’ idea for you, but it’s a common human reaction. Trust me on this, Your craving will increase. Within a year, I’d be surprised if you weren’t fucking someone. At some moment, you won’t be able to resist.

    “I’ll tell Mom we should get you on the pill. And if you ever find yourself unable to resist, tell the guy that if he doesn’t have a condom, there’s no way. That gives you two impediments to prevent pregnancy, and a condom is a good barrier against STDs.”

    As our conversation went on, she became more open in her language, as if I were some couch counselor in a private room. This was more graphic than I expected.

    Our exchange took more than an hour. Upon reflection, I wished I hadn’t allowed her to keep going with details of her oral and masturbation experiences.

    I was taken aback at my arousal as she told me how she went down on one of the dates and how it felt in her mouth. I had never heard her use the words I was now hearing. But then, I had never had a sex talk with her either. “He was really hard, Daddy” she said. “His dick was warm in my mouth. I liked it. My … what’s the word … my pussy … was humping against his leg. I was so fucking hot. You know, just holding his cock. I wanted him to fuck me. I just couldn’t.”I wished I hadn’t asked. My cock was rising. It’s difficult to hide that in running shorts. I hoped she wouldn’t notice, but her eyes glanced down and locked onto my rod.

    Unable to take more, I stood and said, “Your annual physical is in a few weeks. Our doc can prescribe the pills. You ready to run back home?”

    “Yeah,” she said. “Let’s race.” I was 15 seconds behind her at our front door.

    I had expected her to go upstairs and shower. She could have gone to any room. With 3,400 square feet in our log home, there are a lot of rooms to go to.

    Instead, she followed me to the living room and plopped alongside me onto the couch. Our front window looks out over the trees beyond the yard. We gazed more at the view than at each other.

    It was here that I was hit with a awkward question I’d never expected. She asked, “Do you and Mom still have sex?”

    The nature of our conversation at the running path’s end made it difficult not to answer in some way. I responded that our sex had been frequent, often several times a day, during our first years of marriage. In recent years, our sex life had tapered off. As uncomfortable as I felt in our conversation up to this point, I was even more taken aback at her next intimate question. She said, “Does Mom ever suck your cock?”

    I almost said that would be too much information but instead admitted, “Yes. In the early days of our marriage, Mom often ‘sucked my cock.’ But she hasn’t done that in the past few years.”

    Then, the conversation assumed yet another turn. She asked if I was occasionally tempted to fuck some other woman or if her Mom might have the same temptation. Would I want someone to suck my cock again.

    I sat silently, but a few more questions were added onto her previous inquiry. I can’t recall exactly what she asked to encourage me to tell her that I thought her mother needed more sex than I gave her.

    As her inquisition narrowed, I reluctantly admitted that I wished Ellen would date other men to satisfy what I believe to be her desire for more sex. By now, my language was becoming somewhat as graphic as hers. “She won’t consider fucking other guys.”

    She said, “I can imagine other cocks pounding into Mom. That sounds so hot!” She squirmed at the thought and asked for more information – why I wanted that, when it started, whether I would be jealous.

    I explained my reasons as best I could, but I’m not even sure of all the motivations. At least a couple of rationales are true – it was exciting. And, realizing how attractive Ellen is, I would enjoy other men sharing what she has to offer. I said, ” I know she wants to fuck more often than I can do it. If she dated others, that couldn’t damage our marriage. We love each other too much for that to happen.”

    This isn’t a normal father-daughter conversation. Yet, she grinned and said, “That’s what I would call the perfect marriage. Let me know if she agrees. That is so hot! It even make me hot! I understand how you feel now.” She shuddered, her long legs twisting as she considered the idea.

    There was little else to discuss. “This conversation is over,” I said.

    She flipped above me, straddling my legs. Her nipples protruded like spikes against her thin short tee shirt. She looked into my eyes, her mouth open, and ran her pink tongue across her lips. Her arms slowly enwrapped my neck and she kissed me on the mouth, her body pressing against mine. I hugged her, yet wanting to push her away. Her hands stroked my face. Then, gasping, she withdrew and ran up the stairs to her room’s shower.

    I was hard again and went to the bedroom to masturbate. I wondered whether she was doing the same. As circumstances were to develop within our family, I would bring this instant up as a reminiscence. Months later, during an intimate conversation, she said that, in fact, that’s exactly what she did on that day. She added that if she had known that’s what I was going to do, she probably would have suggested we masturbate together. But we never got around to that.

    It was clear that waiting a month until her physical might not be a good idea. I phoned our family physician’s office and requested he write up our daughter for birth control pills. He faxed the scrip to our pharmacy.

    Abby hugged and kissed me frequently, more than in the past. She had always sat in my lap, her arms around me, as we watched football and TV movies. But now, she was showing affection seemingly every hour we were home.

    A few nights later, our family was watching a DVD movie on our TV in our media room. My wife sat in a chair a few feet away. Abby and I sat on the couch. She snuggled against me, a hand on my chest and an arm around my shoulders. My wife fell asleep and a few minutes later our daughter, in her short yellow pajamas, fell asleep.
    Her face rested between my neck and shoulder. In her slumber, a leg lifted and covered mine. Her body shifted until her groin pressed tightly against my leg.

    I concluded that she was dreaming. Her hips rotated and her groin began gyrating on my thigh. I stroked her hair. Her hips thrust like she was fucking. I found this somewhat awkward and considered awaking her. Then, she shuddered and gasped with an “Ahh!” Her fingers dug into the flesh of my chest as if she had climaxed. She awoke and said, “Oh! Sorry I missed the last of the show. I’m going to bed.” She pressed her lips against mine in a lingering kiss and whispered, “Oh my Gosh! Thank you.”

    I was about to ask “For what?” but she withdrew, turned and stumbled upstairs to her room.

    Kissing me on the lips became her common greeting when I or she came home from wherever.

    More than a week passed since I had phoned our doctor about birth control pills. When I came home from work that Monday, my wife greeted me with a hug, smiled and whispered, “We need to talk privately. Later if you want.”

    “Why not now?” I said and headed to the bedroom to change into jeans and a polo shirt. She closed the door and sat on the bedside as I was removing my cuff links. She said, “I’m coming around to your way of thinking.”

    I removed my shirt and, turning to her, said, “About what?”

    “I’ll fuck another man if you still want me to. I’m ready.”

    I gasped. I had given up pleading with her months before. Forcing an agreeable grin, I asked what brought about the change.

    I would never have guessed had she not told me. She had been having conversations with our daughter. She said, “Something Abby mentioned convinced me.”

    I didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure that out. Our daughter, who had been uncomfortable talking about sex with her mother, had forced a conversation to encourage her about fucking other guys for my benefit. That was so clear to me that I wouldn’t bother asking our daughter for confirmation. While they were talking, her Mom had admitted that sex wasn’t as frequent between us as she would like.

    I learned much later that gave our daughter the opening she wanted. She got Mom into a conversation about her sex life. She said, “If Dad were agreeable, would you date other guys? To me, that would be a perfect marriage. You know, like you get a lot of sex but keep the marriage together and happy.” Mom laughed. Abby added, “But I guess that’s some sort of fantasy. I mean, you know, that Dad probably would never agree to something like that. But wouldn’t it be great though! That’s the kinda marriage I’d like!”

    Because she doesn’t work anywhere to get her out of the house often, I asked how she would meet other men. Not a problem. She had recently seen a married-but-dating website representative as a guest on a popular TV show. She said, “Let’s go online and place an ad.” My cock swelled as I realized her enthusiasm was real. She wasn’t just “ready” as she had said. She was eager. Her lower lip fervently quivered as her mind raced with the possibilities opening to her.

    We have six computers in different rooms, including the laptop on our bedroom’s wall desk. We signed on and searched the ads. We found no need to place our own ad. The website offered a lot of personals by men wanting to meet couples or wives of cuckolds. We live just a mile beyond the city limits and two ads were by men living in town.

    She asked that I email a response on her behalf, as if the email was from her, to one of those. I did and she approved the wording. I hit the “send” key.

    Our sex that night was better than any in the previous five years. She kneeled, unzipping my fly and pulled out my cock. Her full lips engulfed my length. She asked, “Do you want me to do this for the guy?”

    “Well, yeah! ” I said.

    She said, “Mmm, me too. I want to suck another cock. I want a new, long, hard one in me.” She looked up with a mischievous grin and said,” You want that too, don’t you. Yeah, I know you do. Really badly.”

    I asked, “How long have you been convinced? Was it really our daughter that tipped the scales?”

    “Several months,” she said. “You know what you are? I didn’t understand your feelings before. Now I do. I’ve been studying guys like you on the web. You’re a cuckold.” Her tongue stroked my member from its base to the head. “But, yes, our daughter said something that pushed me over the edge. Something like how hot it would be. And now I’m looking forward to fucking someone else. Maybe someone I know.”

    That sent me over the edge. I ejaculated into her mouth, and she swallowed my sperm. She giggled as my dick went limp and said, “I hope you can handle it. Thinking about how exciting it might be and actually seeing it happen may be two different things.”

    Whoever she was to meet would be getting a trophy. Like Abby who still looks like someone in middle school, my wife looks ten years younger than her age. Workplace friends and people we meet for the first time often ask, “How’d you ever snare a wife like that!”

    The reply to our inquiry arrived in email the next night. He wrote that he was a civil engineer and described himself as 24, 5’11”, black hair and blue eyes. Ellen glanced at the first of two attached photos and said, “Wow. He’s . . . handsome!” In that photo, he was dressed in an aloha shirt and chinos. He evidently worked out a lot. His arms bulged like telephone poles.

    The second pic was one of his dick. I have seen pics of larger penises; but this was someone my wife may be planning to meet, The photo had a greenish tint, probably taken by his computer’s camera, and his very large penis curved slightly to the right.

    I was taken aback by its length and breadth. I have seen large penises; but this was someone my wife may be planning to meet.

    She read the rest of his message. He was agreeable to a threesome or, if we preferred, he would my wife separately at his home. But it was his last comment that would become a lusty obsession about this guy. I hadn’t before known that could be one of her captivating attractions. He added, “I’m 8 and 1/2 inches if that’s important.”

    My wife gasped, “8 and 1/2 inches! That’s . . . frightening!” Yet, she recalled a moment when she and her friends were talking with an auburn haired high school friend across their high school’s lunchroom table. The girl said to her and the three other girls when asked what she wanted for Christmas, “I want ten inches.” They broke out in laughter. Another girl surmised, “Yeah, right. You’re gonna be S.O.L.” All erupted in giggles.

    Ellen pondered the email a moment and said, “I assumed when you first suggested that I meet other men that I’d be dating without you around. But he mentioned something I didn’t consider, either with you around nor not around. I think I’d like you to be present the first time. I mean, if you can handle that.”

    I know I was intended to tell her that would be great. But I was still stunned at his fat cock’s length and said, “He’s two-and-a-half inches longer than me!”

    She laughed and said, “Is size that important to guys?” When I said, “Well, yeah!” she said, “Then I’ll make sure he knows I appreciate it. Might even compare the two of you side by side while I laugh at your dick.”

    On Tuesday, Abby asked permission to go to a Friday night pajama party. “No problem,” my wife said and went to her home office to phone the man who had placed the ad. He told her his name was Darren.

    For the next two days, Ellen talked about how she had never seen a penis so large. We fucked each night. And, in fervid anticipation of Darren fucking her, she cried out, “Oh Darren! You cock is so biggg! It’s so deep inside my hot cunt!” My cock swelled and twitched as I increased my tempo each time she said his name, and she erupted in multiple orgasms.

    Darren arrived Friday night before our daughter had left the house. We introduced him to her as a friend of ours. The four of us talked for a half hour about anything that came to mind. I watched my wife carefully. Clearly, she was enamored. She squirmed in her chair’s seat. He glanced occasionally at her also and grinned expectantly when our daughter wasn’t looking at him. Because Darren is so much younger, I was somewhat surprised Abby didn’t ask how he knew us.

    Abby looked up at the wall clock and said she had to go, but told Darren that it was “very nice” meeting him. She turned as she opened the front door and added, “I think you’re really cool.” She pronounces “cool” as “coo-uhl.” I’m no longer “cool” enough for that generation and much the happier for it.

    As soon as our daughter pulled out of the driveway, my wife closed the drapes. She turned, her arms enwrapping his neck and kissed him full on the lips. “My husband will be joining us,” she told him, “but I’m not sure whether he’s going to participate or just watch.” I couldn’t hear his response but the tone seemed agreeable.

    I dimmed the lights. Each was undressing the other. Nude, she guided him by the hand to our bedroom. His cock was semi-tumescent as we walked down the hallway, but even then its size was impressive.

    I followed and sat in a corner chair as he lowered her onto the bed. Darren kneeled above her, his knees at each side of her long legs. I sat in fascination as his cock ballooned, extending to it full length. Unreal, I thought. No one could have a pole like that, yet knowing many do. It’s just that this one would soon be sliding into my wife’s cunt. I would later learn that his size was the main reason he advertised, other than the fact that he wanted to fuck a lot of women. Virtually everyone who had gazed upon his stalk seemed affixed. In other words, he was also a show-off.
    I turned off the lights to the bedroom’s overhead fan. A wall socket’s tiny bulb in a nightlight offered a dim illumination.

    Her hand wrapped about his rod, now at full staff. Her hand couldn’t completely encircle his dimensions. She masturbated him as they kissed. His fingers snaked through her long brown hair. Ellen moaned in desire. Her hips gyrated eagerly. She pulled his dickhead to the mouth of her hot cunt. She rotated the cock about her opening until both were gasping with desire.

    He mounted her. Her legs wrapped about his hips and pulled him to her. I unzipped my fly, pulled out my rigid cock and masturbated as I watched.

    “Fuck me,” she whimpered. “Fuck my hot pussy.” His pole entered her. The breadth of his cock was broader than she had anticipated and she squealed as his large shaft parted her cuntal lips. Her head flew back against the pillow as she screamed, “Oh! It’s so fucking huge!”

    But when his baton sank to her full depth, she relaxed, saying, “Oh, good, it’s so good now,” as he began pumping her hole. They were united as one. Her eyes now wide as saucers, her hips rose and fell with each of his thrusts. By now, beads of sweat flew from her head and streamed in rivulets down her shuddering body. She screamed in passion, “It’s so fucking great. Your cock’s hitting my cervix!”

    Then, Ellen kept her promise, that she would let him know she appreciated his uncommon size. I hadn’t suspected just how. Amid tears, she whimpered, “Oh fuck me with that huge cock. You’re much bigger than my little-dick husband. He can only dream about a shaft like yours.” At that, they were in throes of ecstasy as if I weren’t there. I couldn’t complain now. She had warned me that she might compare our poles. But I hadn’t anticipated humiliation. I’m not comfortable admitting this, but I liked it! That was a new revelation to my psyche.

    Her heels kicked his buttocks. He withdrew as she whimpered a “Noooo, don’t take it out,” but he turned her to her knees and entered her pussy from the rear. She rotated her hips as his battering ram pounded into her. She cried out, “Deeper!” And then, a moent later, “Oh yeah, it’s so deep!” She moaned, again and again, “Oh!”

    His large balls bounced against her buttocks. I realized that her days of imaginative obsession clearly were no disappointment when she cried out, “Better than I hoped. I love it.”

    The intensity of his vigor was amazing. I felt weak and pitiful compared to his vigorous hammering deep into her cunt.

    My wife’s head turned toward me. I was jerking off and perspiration was now streaking down my face. Her eyes flashed as she said, “Don’t you wish you could do it this good? I love his big cock. I don’t know if I can give it up, ever.” She turned her head to her back and told him, “I love you. Really loveyou. I mean, love your big cock.” The bed quaked beneath the force of their eager union.

    She squealed as he fucked her mightily. She looked at me, saying, “If you’re a good boy, I might let you suck his cock. Maybe you’ll understand why I can also love him, like I love you.” She shivered as he thrust again into her, then added, “I hadn’t thought about you being a little-dick before.” She looked down as he whaled into her steaming cunt.

    By now, I could imagine her feelings as his huge dickhead drove through her hot cuntal walls. Maybe that what people mean when they say “getting in touch with your feminine side.” Yeah, that’s it.

    I knew she didn’t mean what she said I was a “little-dick” but her taunting aroused me even more. I knew I would soon be cumming. But Darren said it first, “I’m gonna cum!” In hopes of cumming at the same time, my wife was masturbating madly as he fucked her. She breathed, “Oh yeah, do it good. I’m cumming too!”

    This is this is the ultimate union between a man and a woman. His dick was buried deep in her lubricated cunt like the root of a tree. His mind melded with my mind. I had been there before, but now he had conquered my wife as his own loving prize. She was one with him. My excitation at seeing Darren’s staff plunging into my wife had reached its peak. Her lips parted in unison with each mighty thrust, their bodies now merged as one. Her cuntal cream slickened his baton. She cried like a wolf cub as her cuntal walls squeezed and nibbled his stalwart cock.

    I spurted high into the air as he groaned. She sobbed. Tears ran down her cheeks as she looked into his eyes . Her hips jerked to meet his as they simultaneously climaxed. “I love you too,” he told her.

    When he dismounted and stood alongside the bed, I stripped and fucked her. Afterward, I lay alongside her and her new fuck buddy lay on her other side. We talked, joked and laughed while on our backs. Then he kneeled between her legs and fucked her again.

    The three of us showered together. Turning to me, she grasped his member and said to me, “See this? Now that’s a real cock. Doesn’t his manhood make you jealous? I know guys who I’m sure would like to suck this big dick.” Looking at me with mock suspicion, she added, “Maybe even you. You can dream about doing just that tonight.” She soaped our shafts simultaneously and masturbated us until we spewed out white cream.

    Later in bed, we talked about the experience. Ellen leaned on her elbow above me and said, “You seemed so intrigued by his … dimension. Did you want to suck it too.” When I said, “No,” she said, “What if I demanded that you suck his big cock?”

    I didn’t immediately answer but finally responded, “I don’t know. Sometimes, you overpower me so much that I’d do anything you asked. Do you want me to suck his cock?” She laughed and lay her head on the pillow. She was facing away from me when she added, “I think my future fuckings will be mostly without you around. I hope you can live with that.”

    She lay silent a minute or so and added, “Maybe I was a bit hasty when I said, ‘size doesn’t matter.’ He was really amazing. It filled me my mouth as well. I’ll pay more attention to dimensions when responding to future personals..”

    And, she did just that. If a pic showed another monster dick, she responded to that one before another if everything else in the guy’s ad was equal. I could understand it, but it made me occasionally feel somewhat inadequate with my six inches. But she hasn’t disparaged my smaller size. That’s a relief.

    Ellen began making male friends at so many places I couldn’t keep up. As you could imagine, most would soon become intimate couplings. I didn’t realize just how much fucking she needed. I’m thrilled she now is acquiring all the cock she truly deserves. And, perhaps strangely to others, I am pleased to offer her beauty to other men. That’s one of the greatest gifts I could give another man. I’m generous in that way. Odd, isn’t it?

    I had an out of town meeting in February and asked her to take the company tax return to the company’s lawyer downtown. She was directed by the receptionist to his office through glass doors separating the legal work area from the waiting room and down a long hall to Fred’s office.

    Fred was then an associate, not yet a partner, but our company’s in-house attorney found him particularly well-schooled in our line of work.  At 28 years old, he’s about 5’10”, dusty blond hair, and lean from running daily and working out three nights weekly at a nearby YMCA. I could have taken the documents myself later, but I knew she would find him appealing. Because of Fred’s prime age, I was pretty sure he was often on the prowl. He closed his office door and offered Ellen a seat across from his desk. Throughout the day, I fantasized about them fucking. They would make a very hot couple.

    Ellen scribbled notes as he read through the records and dictated. He told her the tax rules were applicable to our firm for capital cost recover and tax credits in capital investments. The expensing provisions looked fine, but he would need to rework our bookkeeper’s data concerning our R&D. Ellen found his rapid-fire talk as he thumbed through our firm’s annual wrap-up. she caught a final remark about our treatment of income from domestic qualified production.

    “Okay,” Ellen said, “I think I have enough to give to my husband. I’ll leave all that with you to work through. Will you be handling the tax returns, or do we need to see a CPA for that.” Fred told her he wasn’t just a tax lawyer. He was a CPA before law school, and grinned, telling her, “It will be handled in-house and I’ll get the full reports back to your execs for their signatures.”

    Fred dropped the package on his desk, put his hands behind his head, and said, “You’re much younger than I thought. Oops. I didn’t mean that your husband is ‘old.’ How long have you been married?”

    Ellen laughed. “I’m some years older than I look, more than a decade older than you actually. It runs in my family.” Their banter went on for several minutes and Fred offered her a mint from his desk. Their hands touched much longer than would have been necessary. Ellen stroked his hand. That gesture is an unmistakable signal that says, “I’m available if you are.” He stared into her inviting eyes.

    She said, “I’m going to lunch. Want to join me?” He grabbed his jacket and she followed him to the elevator. Their hands touched as they walked side by side.

    He suggested a restaurant a block away. I knew the place. It’s a restaurant where people go to fool around. The lighting is sufficiently dim that it’s unlikely any diner could recognize whoever is walking in. Each booth is blocked from the view of any other by a dark curtain that pulls closed automatically when the diners are seated. The booth is wider than the table, and a couch sets alongside the table’s edge. Once the luncheon is served, the waiter leaves a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the booth’s private curtain. Bosses fucking their secretaries go there regularly.

    As they were about to be seated, she looked down to see his missile’s bulge in his slacks. Ellen was surprised how quickly her yearning for cock had developed during their walk to the restaurant. She was lubricating profusely by the time they ordered their food.

    During lunch, he reached across the table to touch her hand again. Her response was inviting; she stroked his wrist with her middle finger until his hand moved up her bare arm. There was no question now of his hopeful intention. Her eyes widened as she said, “It’s okay. I want it too. I saw you member swelling before we walked in here.” He reached to her waist and up her stomach to the flesh of her uncovered breast. Her chest heaved in excitation.

    He took her hand and guided her along the table to the couch. Kissing her, he removed her blouse and nursed a breast. My wife’s hand unbuckled his slacks, pulling them away. His burgeoning cock hardened and curved up to his pale belly. She stripped, now nude other than her high heels. He urged her to her back and kneeled between her thighs.

    She reached for his cock and guided it to the creaming mouth of her quivering pussy. Her hips dug into the couch’s seat to lift her hips and offer him full access. His broad dickhead parted her cuntal lips as she bit into his shoulder.

    He groaned as his fuck-stick slid into her eager cunt. She grinned, asking, “Is this what people in offices call a ‘nooner?'”

    “I hope you keep this confidential,” he said.

    Her voice quavered. “My lips are sealed, but my pussy isn’t. Fuck me.” He plowed into her. She bit her lip to keep from screaming.

    The back of her head pressed firmly against the couch’s leather seat. “I’m cumming,” he warned her. “Do you want me to  pull out?”

    “Give it all to me,” she pleaded with tears falling onto her bare flesh. She kicked her long heels into his buttocks. “I want your sperm inside my cunt,” she pleaded, “all of it.” In truth, Ellen cannot get pregnant. She had her tubes tied after Abby was born.

    His sperm rocketed through his cock and into her hot cunt.

    Fred paid the bill and they walked outside. He said, “I’ll put the tax return on my laptop and you could pick it up a week from Wednesday at my apartment if you want. We could have a ‘penetrating’ conversation.”

    She pulled her scarf over her tussled hair and said, “I’m sure I’ll enjoy getting all your ‘input’ with your hard drive.” They laughed. He walked her to the office’s parking lot where they kissed again. They set up a schedule to get together often.

    That night in bed, she told me what had happened. She said that she could feel his hot sperm bursting into her cuntal cavern and swirling down to her cervix.

    My cock rose. I pulled her naked body to me, rolled her over and fucked her. She said as I pummeled her, “This really gets you excited, doesn’t it? I could get used to this very quickly. In fact, I already have. Until now, I had no idea how fulfilling your original proposal for me to fuck others could be.”

    I said, ”Well, you’re certainly getting “fulfilled” more often now.” She laughed and said she was cumming. She shuddered in multiple orgasms, as she had done with the lawyer earlier that day. I asked, “Will he be fucking you again, or was that a one-timer?”

    “He has a penthouse apartment two blocks from the office. We planned to meet there about every other week. I’ll be there a week from Wednesday. He works only a half day on Wednesdays. Would you be upset if I want to stay overnight?”

    My cock rose again. “Nothing would make me happier,” I said. “I want him to fuck you good. You won’t need to call me. I will know where you are. And never tell him I approve. I just want to hear all about it when you get home Thursday morning.”

    She joked, “Who said I’d be home Thursday?” I laughed, but that comment electrified my cock. She watched it twitch, rolled me to my back,  masturbated me until I ejaculated. She turned aside and fell asleep.

    I lay in bed thinking about what she had said. Since Ellen had identified me as a cuckold, I began thinking about that a lot. I didn’t feel at the time I was, but I had begun looking at cuck stories on the web and began to agree. I found that many cuckolds like being humiliated by their wives. I could understand that now. Some wives cut off all sex with their husbands, to their delight. I didn’t want that but then realized that no one can predict the future with certainty.

    On the other hand, our situation seemed different. When she told me about her experiences and feelings with other men, I was excited. Our sex life had improved. We were fucking more often.

    Our daughter is still living with us and is in her second year at the university in town. Our intimate conversations have continued. I often consider how much I’ll miss those two-or-three hot talks weekly when she leaves home. She is fucking three guys whenever she finds time from studies. I don’t complain because she carries a 4.0 in difficult science classes, with hopes of getting into medical school. Her university has a med school and I hope she gets accepted there, just so we can keep her around longer.

    The only problem Abby has encountered at school was at a student-instructor social when she was chatting with a professor assigned to a department called “Queer Studies.” I am not kidding. You can actually get a degree in that, but I’m not sure it will translate into getting any sort of job.

    Anyway, during casual conversation, she asked, “So where do I sign up for Dick Sucking 302?” She thought the professor found it funny.

    Apparently not. Two days later, she received a note in her mail box to report to an office where she was to be informed that she should take a sensitivity course. Two straight professors concluded her remark might be offensive to Gays. The counselor, as told to us by Abby, is 42. He has thinning brown hair and wears glasses that seem to have no rims around the lens. He’s about 5’8″, just an inch taller than our daughter.

    Noticing his eyes roaming over her short tee shirt, she looked around to make sure no one was in the hall who could hear them. She said, “That’s ridiculous. I can’t imagine my saying, “dick sucking” could possibly offend a gay. I’m straight, but I know all about dick sucking anyway. I read about it on the back of a lunchroom napkin.” She hesitated a moment, running her pink tongue across her lips. She looked straight into his eyes and added, “If I were asked, I could prove it.”

    Considering her remark a moment, he stood, closed and locked the office door. Abby was wearing nothing beneath her blouse when she pulled it over her head. She caressed her breasts as the man unzipped his fly and tugged out his member. He walked to her. Her nipples protruded like spikes.

    She stroked his cock until its firmness had risen to its full length. The pink dickhead was shaped like a broad almond nut. Her tongue licked its breadth and traced its length to the base of his cock. Her mouth opened and engulfed the full extent. She gagged when it hit the back of her throat, like a serpent trying to invade her larynx. Her head bobbed eagerly. She whimpered, “You’re so hot in my mouth. I love it.”

    He rocked his hips, his cock sliding easily through the cavern of her sultry mouth. His hands cupped the back of Abby’s head. Groaning, he said, “You look so young. How old are you?”

    She’s 19 but said, “14.I was a child prodigy in school.”

    “14! Oh, no,” he burbled. “I shouldn’t be doing this.” But rather than drawing away, his hips increased their tempo. His excitation surged.

    “Well, it’s too late now, Mr. Harris,” she said, “so you might as well enjoy it.”

    He moaned and said, “I’m about to cum if you want to quit.”

    Abby’s eyes rolled up to his and she said, “I’ll swallow it all,” and she did.

    He wrote in his report that she didn’t need to take that sensitivity class. She’s fucking him regularly now. She invited him to join the family for dinner sometime, but he hasn’t yet taken her up on that. Abby thinks he’s nervous about socializing with undergrad students, although she assured him neither she nor her parents would ever tell anyone.

    Early this year, I thanked her for talking with my wife about dating other guys two years ago. She laughed, surprised that I realized she had done that. She asked if my wife told me. I said, “No, but it was pretty obvious. Never mentioned my suspicion.”

    She asked if her Mom took up the hint. I almost lied but instead admitted that, yes, she was fucking other guys now; and that it works out great for the two of us. My daughter grinned delightedly, hugged my neck and kissed me longingly on the lips. “You’re welcome,” she said. “That is so hot!”

    A few days later, I complained at dinner that I had banged my leg against an SUV’s bumper in the office’s parking lot. Pain radiated from my hip to my knee.

    My wife suggested we go downstairs to the hot tub in our basement’s recreation room. We were sitting nude across from the other when our daughter walked down the stairs with three soft drinks. She handed one to each of us and asked if we minded her joining us. My wife shrugged and said, “Sure.”

    Abby’s clothes fell away and she sat alongside me. She snuggled up to me, kissed my neck and massaged my leg beneath the foaming bubbles.

    As she moved up my leg, she said to her mother, “Something hard is bumping against my arm. That had better be a rubber ducky!”

    My wife laughed so hard, she spewed coke out into the water. Our daughter kept massaging until the pain was gone. My wife lay her head against the tub’s surrounding wall and closed her eyes.

    After her bare arm’s continual brushing against the member, I whispered in her ear, “Thanks. My leg feels better now. And you made the ‘ducky’ very happy.” Abby smirked and said, “As I anticipated.”

    She offered to be our “masseuse” thereafter if we wanted. We often take her up on that. At first, she gave me a rubdown only at my neck, shoulders and legs. But one day, she asked, “How about a full body rubdown?” It was great. I think we bonded more than ever. Now, her full body rubdowns are routine, always nude for the “masseuse” and the “client” at least once a week.

    Over the next few weeks, our family became “naturists” of a sort. We’re more often nude than not while watching movies in the media room. The room’s lighting an electrician set up enhances the ambience of our gatherings.

    I told Abby our nude get-togethers in our media room might be a good atmosphere to invite the school administrator for. She laughed and said that would probably freak him out. I’ll take her word for that.

    One Saturday night, Ellen was staying overnight with a guy she met at the hotel restaurant where her bridge club meets twice a month. As had become common, Abby and I were nude, watching a TV reality show. She sat on my lap, an arm around my neck. I told her the show was boring, and she agreed but said there’s nothing else worth watching that night.

    So our daughter reached for the remote and turned down the sound. She said, “I have some other entertainment for you if you want to hear it. If not, just stop me. I got fucked last night when I went out. Myrna at school was going to meet me at a movie. but she called on my I-Phone while I was driving to the theater and said her cat and dog got into some sort of tussle and wrecked stuff in her apartment. I went by myself and struck up a conversation before the film started with a guy sitting alongside me.”

    She went on to tell me that he was a salesman who sold merchandise to department stores and was in town through Monday. “He invited me out for drinks – well, you know I don’t drink, but I had water anyway – and we ended up at his hotel. I got the idea sometime afterward that he was married, so that was most likely a one-night stand.” Abby, in her unique way, included all the specifics, from beginning to end, that I have come to expect.

    My cock began to stiffen against her legs on my lap. She paused, smiling, like she was aware. Well, how could she not be? She parted her legs and looked down as it popped up, pointing to the ceiling. Her thighs closed tightly around my engorged manhood, and she continued her tale of sexual adventure the night before. Her legs seemed to twitch and squeeze in fervor as she recalled the dick inside her cunt. That movement of her thighs was slowly masturbating me.

    She said, “I know a ‘secret’ if you want to hear it, but you might be upset.” When I assured her that nothing upsets me, she said, “You told me you wanted Mom to have sex with other guys. Did you know she’s getting sex from someone else now?” I nodded negatively, and she said, “So are you happy with that like you hoped?”
    “Very happy,” I said but couldn’t admit that I already knew .

    She never ceases to surprise me. “Do you think you’d like to watch? Watch them fucking I mean.” I said I thought that would be exciting, and she went on, “I’ll bet if you ask Mom, she would go along with that.” Clearly, her conversations with Ellen had been more involved than I had assumed. I didn’t need to ask how she learned about her affairs.

    She wriggled her legs, massaging my dick. “Would you like to watch me getting fucked sometime?” I didn’t respond but blushed. She giggled, writhing her thighs until I thought I might ejaculate and said, “Yeah, I can feel your cock twitching. I know you would. Maybe I can find a guy who doesn’t know people at school to agree to that.”

    She kneeled alongside me, pressed the back of my head against the couch rest. Her head was above mine as she kissed me on the mouth, more like a man kissing a woman. This was the first time, her tongue slipped into my mouth. Grinning triumphantly, she said, “I like this. Me on top. Like I’m in control of you instead of the other way around.”

    “You’re really a piece of work,” I said, “but I like it.”

    “Who knows?” she said. “Maybe if Mom comes around to letting you watch, may someday you could watch us both getting banged.”

    Then, she asked, “Can I do some work for you for extra money? I want to go on spring break when it comes around. I was invited to the coast with friends. I don’t mind taking an after-school job though. I believe in working for money.”

    I told her, “You’re already doing all the house chores I can think of. What if I start paying you for each massage, say $40? That includes those for your Mom too.”

    “You’re the best.” she said, kissing me again. “I know some girls at school that I believe would be glad to suck your cock if you want. Let me know, okay?”

    That did it. Her slow, rubbing movement of her legs caused me to climax. My white lava erupted, onto my daughter’s legs.

    She pretended not to have notice, or perhaps she didn’t notice. She withdrew, turned and ran to the stairs to her room. I didn’t get back to her on her cock sucking offer by one or more school friends.

    We were swimming nude one night in our backyard pool and the conversation centered on our daughter’s enhanced sex life. Finally, just as I got out of the pool and drying with a towel, she blurted out, “Hey, why I am I the subject of conversation?”

    Ellen said, “Hmm. Trying to recall the rules from high school English and literature class. Maybe you’re not the subject. I think you would be object.”

    My daughter glanced to my dick that was in the process of swelling and elongating for reasons I didn’t then know, and said, “I don’t know, but Dad is the dangling participle.”

    I bent to reach for a towel and wrapped it about my waist. But even that couldn’t hide my protruding cock. The backyard lights were dim but clear enough to see around us. I sat down on a patio chair so it would be less obvious. That didn’t work either. My wife and daughter kept glancing at it as they sat in a triangle of chairs to talk.

    My wife continued seeing the first guy we met, Darren, for six months until he decided to marry a woman, Mara. He had been fucking Mara all the time he was doing my wife, without Mara’s knowledge. My wife missed the satisfaction she received from his long cock filling her needs, But she understood and agreed with Darren’s determination of marital loyalty. He introduced Mara to us as “friends,” and we continue a frequent social relationship with them. She hasn’t a clue he had fucked my wife, and all three of us guilty participants agreed never to tell her.
    But after a year of marriage, Darren approached Mara, asking whether she would consider swinging with other couples for sexual variety. She didn’t think he was serious at first and asked, “Would that allow me to fuck a former boyfriend?” When he said yes, she realized he meant what he said.

    He told us later that Mara said, “Hmm. Let me think about that. I’ll get back to you.” He brings it up often but tells us he’s patient about that. If she consents, he plans to pretend to pretend talking my wife and me into being their first couple. And, of course, we will agree.

    I look forward to it as a result of their visiting out home one night for a card game. Late in the evening, Darren suggested that we play a hand that would allow a winner to ask any others to do whatever the winner wanted. His wife and my wife had lousy hands at that point, but I could have beat him. Instead, I turned my cards face down and said, “I’m done.”

    So he said, “I want my wife to feel up Ellen’s breasts.” The women laughed but went along with it. Mara unbuttoned my wife’s blouse and removed her bra. Her hand slid over the firmness of my wife’s breasts. They fell silent, looking into the other’s eyes.

    Ellen’s lips parted fervently. She trembled as Mara said, “I’m excited. I have to kiss you. Do you mind?” Without awaiting a response, she lifted a finger to my wife chin, tilted her head back and kissed her full lips. They gasped. My wife’s arms intertwined with Mara’s. She lifted her blouse and dropped it to the floor. They stood and kissed, their breasts pressing against the other’s, for what seemed a minute.

    Each breathed passionately as they withdrew. Ellen stared at Mara a moment, each realizing they had discovered something new about themselves. Mara said, “Maybe I’m ‘bi.’ I have never felt like that before.” My wife said, “Me either. Thank you. I wonder how your husband knew that.”

    After another hand, with the guys and my wife losing to his wife, she asked Ellen to masturbate her husband. “Are you sure?” my wife said. She stood and kissed Mara again, then walked to her husband. He had unzipped his fly before she stood alongside him. She pulled out his cock and wrapped her fist around it.

    Stroking it, she asked his wife, “You mean like this?” and she was told with a grin, “Yes, exactly like that.” As before, I couldn’t keep my eyes off Darren’s massive organ. I’d only seen cocks that size in internet photos.

    She clearly enjoying holding his rod again . His eyes rolled as she jerked him off. Soon, he groaned and mumbled, “I’m about to cum.” His wife told mine to swallow it. She did, gulping eagerly.

    At that moment, I realized that if Ellen won a hand at this point, she might ask me to suck Darren’s member. I didn’t want to do that. Aside from my personal reasons, I knew that Darren might be offended and I wanted to keep them as friends.

    I declared that I needed to get some sleep, and that ended the game. As they were leaving, his wife said, “Thank you. That was really fun.”

    He held my wife tightly, kissing her good night, and I did the same with his wife. Smiling, they walked out the door. I said, with an obvious double entendre, “Glad you could ‘come.’ Hope you come again soon.” They laughed. His wife walked back through the door and placed her hands tightly against my wife’s face and kissed her again, like a man would kiss a woman. “I liked that too,” she said, “Very much.”

    Some weeks later during a brief visit after work, Darren told us that he hoped Mara would agree to swinging and thinks she soon will agree. He said to Ellen that he wants to be with her again but not until wife permits it. We like that sort of loyalty. My wife misses him in that way too; sometimes, she tells me how she felt when that big cock was fucking her, and each of us always climax after her remembrances.

    As you might expect, Ellen still dates other men. She typically goes out twice a month. During the first few months after her first encounter, she was going out weekly. I love hearing the details after each encounter. She has a way with words.

    Several months ago, as we lay in bed, she said, “You want to fuck our daughter, don’t you?” She based her conclusion on Abby’s and my abnormally close relationship. I denied that, but she wasn’t buying it. She went on, “I know you won’t fuck her, but I know you’d like to do her. So it occurred to me that you’re not just cuckolded by me, but also by Abby. You take great pleasure in hearing the details of her adventures, just like you beg to hear every aspect of mine.”

    She laughed, saying, “Face it. You’re double-cucked.” She watched my dick rising to full length. “I have suspected for some that she’s jerking you off during those massages.” I didn’t respond. Clearly, she was excited over the thought, fantasy or not.

    She grasped my unbending dick and guided it to her lips. She kissed the head of my stalk and said, “Let me tell you how my high school buddy’s cockhead felt as it parted the mouth of my pussy. I was creaming. He trembled. My body was writhing. I wanted it so badly.” She described every moment as I writhed beneath her manipulations. Her head dipped and bobbed frantically. My lava erupted in her mouth.

    We eventually placed two of our own advertisements on a married-but-looking and a swingers website, along with a nude photo, her face turned away from the camera. We received sufficient replies from local men to keep her fucking 24 hours a day for a year if she wished. Every two or three months, we have a threesome with a guy we met through a personals ad.

    Last March, Ellen received the first of two letters about her high school’s 20th reunion to be held in early June. I had a conflicting company seminar out of state that weekend and couldn’t accompany her. She went without me and hooked up with a guy she had dated three times. They had kissed passionately on each double date but didn’t have sex. His name is Dade and he’s divorced.

    They were staying overnight at the hotel hosting the reunion. In the hotel’s dimly-lighted lounge, Dade asked her to dance. Their faces touched. He brushed his face across hers and looked into her eyes. Her mouth opened like an invitation. He kissed her and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Their bodies pressed together. He asked, “Would you like to go to my room?” His tone implied she wanted to do just that.

    She whispered, “Let’s go to mine.”

    In her room he fucked her madly, again and again, until morning light streamed through the window overlooking the city below. Before they showered, she urged him to his back and sucked his dick, saying, “Thank you for making this a real reunion. Doesn’t ‘union’ also mean ‘united?’ And we ‘united’ for at least a night.” He was cumming again.

    He asked whether they might get together again. “I know you’re married, and that might be a problem.” She told him, “I’ll work something out.” She did, 6 or 7 times since. He’s one of Ellen’s favorite fuck buddies. I taped one of their bedroom sessions at our home without his knowledge. I watch it now and then on our TV and masturbate.

    On one occasion while watching them fucking, I forgot to lock the media room door. Our daughter walked in, glanced at my dick and the TV, and said, “Oh, sorry.” She didn’t realize the woman on the screen was her Mom. I had thought Abby had left an hour before. She was unperturbed at having seen me stroking my dick. I had immediately returned it into my pants. She grinned and said, “Maybe I could watch you jerk off some other time, but I gotta class in an hour. Sorry I didn’t knock before entering.” And, with that, she closed the door and headed for her car.

    Ellen occasionally meets guys in random settings – shops, lounges and elsewhere, and those invariably lead to fucking. Most are one-night stands.

    An exception is a guy 12-years younger she met at a supermarket and has been fucking periodically for more than a year. They always fuck at his apartment, but he knows I approve of their relationship. They have completely bonded. She admits she “loves” him in an uncommon way that isn’t any threat to our marriage.

    According to my wife, he’s very good at what he does. I asked if I could watch them sometime, but she says that’s not going to happen. I asked whether that was her decision or his. “Mine,” she said, “so live with it.”

    I find their relationship to be the most exciting of her affairs. But, as she had told me what was to be my future some time ago, most of her fucking takes place without me around. I now realize that part of life is the ultimate end-game for almost all cuckolds.

  • #10532


    We should chat a little more privately sir if you has some time. What’s your email?


  • #10739


    That’s a hot story, I’d love to read more about your family.

  • #11152


    Very nice story and I hope it is true, I have been trying to get my wife into the lifestyle, we are 50 and 55 I might have wated too long time will tell, A couple of weeks ago at a BBQ I had a few too many drinks when I was talking tyo my sister in law and told her I wanted her sister to fuck other men she said she would help me, she is going to take her on a girls night out

  • #11153


    Hot story, Read it on literotica a long time ago

  • #11154


    @likeitalot99 said:

    Hot story, Read it on literotica a long time ago

    I thought the exact same thing Likeitalot99

  • #11168


    Experiences and issues like this exist for cuckold couples and I’ve spoken to quite a few with similar experiences over the years. Whether this is fiction or not, to me, is immaterial in that it’s entirely believable and has happened for families out there. Fiction is the result of human imagination and so is behavior. What can be imagined can be done and has been somewhere or other. Were this presented in a manner I simply couldn’t buy – a manner which didn’t allow for the suspension of disbelief – I would write it off, but that’s not the case here and I welcome discussion of the topic to continue.

  • #11390


    @Luvr said:

    Experiences and issues like this exist for cuckold couples and I’ve spoken to quite a few with similar experiences over the years. Whether this is fiction or not, to me, is immaterial in that it’s entirely believable and has happened for families out there. Fiction is the result of human imagination and so is behavior. What can be imagined can be done and has been somewhere or other. Were this presented in a manner I simply couldn’t buy – a manner which didn’t allow for the suspension of disbelief – I would write it off, but that’s not the case here and I welcome discussion of the topic to continue.

    Since I am “permitted” to continue/extend this topic (for which I am grateful, bcoz things bordering on even the fringes ‘taboo’ are difficult to discuss), I’d welcome some heart-to-heart on mail (I’m at [email protected]).

    My circumstances are, in many ways, different from m_remmons’. But I have a daughter from my current wife. She’s 17 now. A son (22) from my earlier wife.

    I married my first wife when even the elementary concept of ‘cuckoldry’ was not openly discussed/understood. I married my current wife when both she and I knew and accepted that I was a cuck.

    We have some complex, yet engaging (read, “hugely stimulating”) equations and chemistries in our family now (my ex wife is not a part of it). My current wife is an aggressive ‘hot wife’.

    Have lots to share and seek advice/suggestions on.


  • #11418


    @tim said:

    @Luvr said:

    Experiences and issues like this exist for cuckold couples and I’ve spoken to quite a few with similar experiences over the years. Whether this is fiction or not, to me, is immaterial in that it’s entirely believable and has happened for families out there. Fiction is the result of human imagination and so is behavior. What can be imagined can be done and has been somewhere or other. Were this presented in a manner I simply couldn’t buy – a manner which didn’t allow for the suspension of disbelief – I would write it off, but that’s not the case here and I welcome discussion of the topic to continue.

    Since I am “permitted” to continue/extend this topic (for which I am grateful, bcoz things bordering on even the fringes ‘taboo’ are difficult to discuss), I’d welcome some heart-to-heart on mail (I’m at [email protected]).

    My circumstances are, in many ways, different from m_remmons’. But I have a daughter from my current wife. She’s 17 now. A son (22) from my earlier wife.

    I married my first wife when even the elementary concept of ‘cuckoldry’ was not openly discussed/understood. I married my current wife when both she and I knew and accepted that I was a cuck.

    We have some complex, yet engaging (read, “hugely stimulating”) equations and chemistries in our family now (my ex wife is not a part of it). My current wife is an aggressive ‘hot wife’.

    Have lots to share and seek advice/suggestions on.


    Hi Tim,

    Your post intrigues me. I have emailed you on the email address you mentioned over here. Hope to hear back from you.


  • #11470


    Hi Vin,

    Your mail hasn’t come through.

  • #11472


    @tim said:

    Hi Vin,

    Your mail hasn’t come through.

    Hi Tim,
    I have re-sent the email to you. Please confirm if your email address is [email protected].
    Mine is [email protected].


  • #16896


    Have a lot more to share after things have got ‘sorted out’ over the last few years.

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