When my wife and I started sharing dirty stories shortly after we began dating, the ones we liked best were the ones where she found herself in situations that encouraged her to explore her sexuality, whether I was present or not.
As we were in a long-distance relationship for the first year (she worked in a different city from where I went to university), these fantasies were the primary drivers of our frequent, and always blisteringly hot phone sex. We became very good at it.
After being separated for two excruciatingly long months and craving her physical contact, I bought us tickets to see a famous musician she liked who was playing on Halloween night in the city where I lived. I called her excitedly with the news, looking forward to the opportunity to be together, if only too briefly.
Unfortunately, I was shocked and saddened to have her tell me she couldn’t come, as much as she’d like to.
“I’ve already been invited to a costume party that night. I have my costume ready”.
I was crushed.
It got much worse when she described her costume in detail to me. She was going as an ultra-sexy vampire with long straight black hair, crimson lipstick, sharp fangs, a floor-length low-cut black dress, and a rivulet of blood dripping from her mouth between her luscious 36C breasts.
As I sat alone weeks later at the concert that I had hoped she would happily have attended with me, I couldn’t help but imagine how delectable she looked, and what she might be doing at the party at that very moment. I continued to sit uncomfortably in my seat, suffering from a painful erection.
The next time I spoke to her on the phone, she apologized for not coming to the concert and was truly sorry she missed it, but she told me that she had a fabulous time at the party. “Too bad you weren’t there to see my costume. It was very popular with many people. I think you would have enjoyed it”. “From your description of it, I am certain I would have”, I sighed. I told her of my acute discomfort at the concert thinking about her. “You should have called me the next night!”, she exclaimed. “We could have had fabulous phone sex about that!” “A lost opportunity.”, I sighed. “Yes, yes it was. “, she replied somewhat wistfully.
About a year later, she finally came to move in with me. It was glorious. We were down to fuck virtually every day.
Of course, we continued with our dirty talk in the bedroom as before. The leg-shaking, squirting, and multiple orgasms she had all but convinced me that she got off on our shared fantasies as much as I did.
We even shared these fantasies while driving, where I was often treated to one of her outstanding blow jobs or hand jobs.
Early on in our pillow talk, she quickly learned how vivid and detailed my cuckold fantasies were and how much it aroused me to hear her talk about some of her past experiences with other men and how much I enjoyed living them through her vicariously.
One night, as we lay curled up in bed after a particularly frantic fuck, she was slowly stroking my hardening cock, beginning to share with me more explicit details about what had happened at the Hallowe’en party she attended two months after we started dating.
She confessed to me that she had quite a few drinks, and how she spent much of the night tipsily talking to and flirting heavily with a seriously hot guy who told her how much her drop-dead sexy vampire costume enamored him. She said I was definitely in her thoughts, but it was early in our relationship. I was far away and she was horny and needed to get laid “in the worst way”. They slowly danced dangerously close together, their hands caressing each other bodies. She told me about how he ran his hand up her sides to hold her breasts, with one hand sliding underneath her dress to pull gently at her nipple. His other hand slowly reached down to her ass and caressed it. “I thought about you at that moment. How you told me that you’d love to watch another man’s hand on my ass. How hard I knew you’d be hearing about it. God, I was so turned on. I was dripping wet”.
She felt his large erection as he ground behind her, pressing himself into her ass. At last, he nibbled on her earlobe, a major erogenous zone for her with a direct, electrifying connection to her already wet pussy. “I knew that I was going to fuck him that night”, or “thinking back, maybe he knew that he was going to fuck me. Either way, we both knew we were headed for bed to fuck.” She eagerly took him back to her shared apartment.
Luckily, her roommate was away at the time so she was free from having to be quiet and free from having to explain to her why I wasn’t the one she was dragging into her bedroom that night.
“It was incredible. We fucked each other’s brains out all night and well into the next afternoon. I lost count of how many times I came. Once on my back, and more than once riding him on top. Once standing up in the shower and more than once being fucked from behind at the dining room table. I think that was my favourite of all of them. I came hard and loud. My orgasms seemed to go on and on. We must have fucked there for over an hour”.
I groaned when I thought about how many times we had eaten at that table since then. How she must have thought excitedly about fucking her one night stand at the table, pounding into her from behind, how huge her orgasms were, and how they seemed to roll on and on. I asked which side of the table they used for this erotic debauchery. “Would it excite you to know it’s the side you always sat at when you came for dinner. I must have chosen it subconsciously”. I moaned loudly at her confession.
She knew instinctively how incredibly aroused I was by her vivid recollection of the events at the party and what happened afterward by feeling how hard my cock had become, throbbing in her hand. “Now that I know what you like”, she whispered into my ear “What other sexy adventures do you want me to have”?
Suddenly, I burst all over my stomach and her breasts. I happily licked her breasts and her nipples clean.
This began a long history of sexual bliss and shared arousal with her. Often, I wouldn’t know about her trysts until well after the fact. I knew when she loved my mouth on her pussy tasting her flowing juices or how passionately and deeply she would kiss me with that unmistakable salty taste.
I loved trying to remember all of her extraordinarily passionate moments that were inflamed by her infidelity. It was a fun erotic exercise for my overstimulated mind.
She went on to have several hot adventures that she delightedly relayed to me well after she had them, satiating my burning lust and utter delight.
My sexual pleasure always came from listening to her seductive voice telling her story. I never wanted to watch her in the throes of passion with someone. For me, my imagination was a powerfully erotic aphrodisiac.
As we were in a long-distance relationship for the first year (she worked in a different city from where I went to university), these fantasies were the primary drivers of our frequent, and always blisteringly hot phone sex. We became very good at it.
After being separated for two excruciatingly long months and craving her physical contact, I bought us tickets to see a famous musician she liked who was playing on Halloween night in the city where I lived. I called her excitedly with the news, looking forward to the opportunity to be together, if only too briefly.
Unfortunately, I was shocked and saddened to have her tell me she couldn’t come, as much as she’d like to.
“I’ve already been invited to a costume party that night. I have my costume ready”.
I was crushed.
It got much worse when she described her costume in detail to me. She was going as an ultra-sexy vampire with long straight black hair, crimson lipstick, sharp fangs, a floor-length low-cut black dress, and a rivulet of blood dripping from her mouth between her luscious 36C breasts.
As I sat alone weeks later at the concert that I had hoped she would happily have attended with me, I couldn’t help but imagine how delectable she looked, and what she might be doing at the party at that very moment. I continued to sit uncomfortably in my seat, suffering from a painful erection.
The next time I spoke to her on the phone, she apologized for not coming to the concert and was truly sorry she missed it, but she told me that she had a fabulous time at the party. “Too bad you weren’t there to see my costume. It was very popular with many people. I think you would have enjoyed it”. “From your description of it, I am certain I would have”, I sighed. I told her of my acute discomfort at the concert thinking about her. “You should have called me the next night!”, she exclaimed. “We could have had fabulous phone sex about that!” “A lost opportunity.”, I sighed. “Yes, yes it was. “, she replied somewhat wistfully.
About a year later, she finally came to move in with me. It was glorious. We were down to fuck virtually every day.
Of course, we continued with our dirty talk in the bedroom as before. The leg-shaking, squirting, and multiple orgasms she had all but convinced me that she got off on our shared fantasies as much as I did.
We even shared these fantasies while driving, where I was often treated to one of her outstanding blow jobs or hand jobs.
Early on in our pillow talk, she quickly learned how vivid and detailed my cuckold fantasies were and how much it aroused me to hear her talk about some of her past experiences with other men and how much I enjoyed living them through her vicariously.
One night, as we lay curled up in bed after a particularly frantic fuck, she was slowly stroking my hardening cock, beginning to share with me more explicit details about what had happened at the Hallowe’en party she attended two months after we started dating.
She confessed to me that she had quite a few drinks, and how she spent much of the night tipsily talking to and flirting heavily with a seriously hot guy who told her how much her drop-dead sexy vampire costume enamored him. She said I was definitely in her thoughts, but it was early in our relationship. I was far away and she was horny and needed to get laid “in the worst way”. They slowly danced dangerously close together, their hands caressing each other bodies. She told me about how he ran his hand up her sides to hold her breasts, with one hand sliding underneath her dress to pull gently at her nipple. His other hand slowly reached down to her ass and caressed it. “I thought about you at that moment. How you told me that you’d love to watch another man’s hand on my ass. How hard I knew you’d be hearing about it. God, I was so turned on. I was dripping wet”.
She felt his large erection as he ground behind her, pressing himself into her ass. At last, he nibbled on her earlobe, a major erogenous zone for her with a direct, electrifying connection to her already wet pussy. “I knew that I was going to fuck him that night”, or “thinking back, maybe he knew that he was going to fuck me. Either way, we both knew we were headed for bed to fuck.” She eagerly took him back to her shared apartment.
Luckily, her roommate was away at the time so she was free from having to be quiet and free from having to explain to her why I wasn’t the one she was dragging into her bedroom that night.
“It was incredible. We fucked each other’s brains out all night and well into the next afternoon. I lost count of how many times I came. Once on my back, and more than once riding him on top. Once standing up in the shower and more than once being fucked from behind at the dining room table. I think that was my favourite of all of them. I came hard and loud. My orgasms seemed to go on and on. We must have fucked there for over an hour”.
I groaned when I thought about how many times we had eaten at that table since then. How she must have thought excitedly about fucking her one night stand at the table, pounding into her from behind, how huge her orgasms were, and how they seemed to roll on and on. I asked which side of the table they used for this erotic debauchery. “Would it excite you to know it’s the side you always sat at when you came for dinner. I must have chosen it subconsciously”. I moaned loudly at her confession.
She knew instinctively how incredibly aroused I was by her vivid recollection of the events at the party and what happened afterward by feeling how hard my cock had become, throbbing in her hand. “Now that I know what you like”, she whispered into my ear “What other sexy adventures do you want me to have”?
Suddenly, I burst all over my stomach and her breasts. I happily licked her breasts and her nipples clean.
This began a long history of sexual bliss and shared arousal with her. Often, I wouldn’t know about her trysts until well after the fact. I knew when she loved my mouth on her pussy tasting her flowing juices or how passionately and deeply she would kiss me with that unmistakable salty taste.
I loved trying to remember all of her extraordinarily passionate moments that were inflamed by her infidelity. It was a fun erotic exercise for my overstimulated mind.
She went on to have several hot adventures that she delightedly relayed to me well after she had them, satiating my burning lust and utter delight.
My sexual pleasure always came from listening to her seductive voice telling her story. I never wanted to watch her in the throes of passion with someone. For me, my imagination was a powerfully erotic aphrodisiac.
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