Decdoug - I Am Doug

Well, to stay things have quietened down since June would be quite the understatement. Louise met up with Grant in early June, when he came back to our home city for a long weekend. She stayed the night with him on the Saturday and got home just after noon on the Sunday, she was a rather tired girl.

Then, a couple of weeks later, she slept with Tom for one last time, her first and easily closest FWB. They had chatted during the week and Tom told her that he was thinking of trying to get a bit more serious with another woman that he had started dating (Louise did know about her). I was away at work and he took her back to the hotel where they first slept together. She told me she cried a little in the morning too, nothing to surprise me as I have known she has felt quite close to Tom for a while now. There’s nothing to threaten me in their closeness by the way, they were good friends to begin with and grew a little closer since things became physical between them. It was actually harder for Tom apparently, he had gotten to the point where he was quite jealous of the time Louise spent with his mate Grant and even the massages she has been having. Anyway, time will tell if things work out with his new lady I guess, I’m pretty certain Lou would be quite than willing for their little relationship to kick back off if it doesn’t work out.

Now Grant is in a similar boat, just a few weeks ago he told Louise he was bringing someone with him next time he came back home. He actually said he’s not fully serious yet and wanted to still see Louise, but she won’t have it like that. It’s not that she expects guys to be exclusive of course but she doesn’t want to have anything to do with them playing around on someone they’re in a relationship with. She did say things were cooling off with Grant anyway, her night with him in June was still fun (and she did have some amazing orgasms) but there’s just not the same spark, or connection, she really needs to keep it going. Like the sex was really fun but now let’s move on kind of situation.

That same thing happened even quicker with my friend Steve. The messed around a few times and then just stopped, we’re both sure he was a bit weirded out by having sex with his mates wife and, again, the connection (other than being friends) wasn’t really there. It was probably just right to finish up as it was, which is not to say something might not happen at another time of course.

Although the visits have been much less frequent that they were for a while, her massage guy is still in the wings. She has just found it harder to get the time to treat herself of late, things have been really busy with her work and, ironically I guess, I have been away with work more often which actually makes it harder for her to find the time to have a little fun (just by me not being around to share the load of being a mother and housekeeper). But, I’m home now for a few weeks and she does have an appointment next week.

So, with all of that, the intense sexual excitement between the two of us has also waned, just a little bit. I got home from my latest work trip just a couple of days ago, and did get a very welcome blowjob in the spa by the way.

Louise raised the subject, while we were still in the spa, just after that blowjob. As she usually does, she started off by asking me how I was feeling about things, was I having any regrets over what we have been doing for the last year or so. Of course I haven’t, no regrets whatsoever and I told her, if anything, I was hoping things would pick up for her somehow, sometime soon. She had been thinking along similar lines and told me she had some ideas

First of all, she reminded me of the sexual bucket list I sent her a few years ago. She had deleted it, out of her usual fear of someone (our children) finding it in her emails and wanted to know if I still had a copy. She said it might be fun to see how many items we would tick off as done now and, also, went on to suggest something new to do with it. I have now been tasked with getting the list ready for our first day of the beach for this coming summer season (I’m really hoping for some warm weather very soon!). We do talk about sex a lot when we’re together at the beach, it’s our little thing I guess, and she wants us to do a couple of things with the list. First of all is to go through it and talk about all the things that have been done, have some fun recounting a few things. I have to tell her my top three moments from all of it too, and the three biggest turn ons. That is going to be hard but not as hard as finding the three things I liked the least.

Then she told me to pick a number between one and ten. I’m dumb as a post sometimes, I wish I had chosen ten, or even nine but I said six. Then she told me I have to pick the top ten things from my bucket list (I am allowed to add new ones if I think of them) and she will do her absolute best to do six (my chosen number) over the next six months. You know, I very nearly said three, I’m so glad I didn’t.

So, I have some work to do, especially with trying to be creative with picking my next top ten from the bucket list!

My name is Doug and I am an addict. It is true, I am addicted to everything to do with this whole hotwife thing. Most interestingly, I have recently realised my wife is also an addict, or should I say she is a-dick-ted.

Interesting, my comfort zone seems to be stretching…

That is the question, I now suspect it is more of the latter than I would have previously thought…

Tom had been on a bit of a golf trip and my wife went to join him for the last night. He left her a key to his room, so she could get settled before he got back from his last round. She sent me a text like this soon after arriving.

I think she really just meant to say that he is bringing out the bad girl in her. Their first get together was nervous and a little clumsy, the next is ten days away. He is promising to make it all that she is craving right now.

Before things umm, let’s say, got a little bit difficult for us, Louise finally paid the “new” guy J a visit. It’s Monday morning now, after a tricky start we ended up having a good day yesterday. We worked through things, we looked forward, booked a holiday and, from there, things got naughty. In short, a very short version, we talked about stopping this hotwife stuff, but neither of us actually want that, and that led to talking about J. We talked about her one time with him and we talked about a few things he had been saying to her, some other things he has “invited” her to do. More on that later.

Her visit to J’s place sounded crazy. So hot and so sexy. I’m weird I guess, I so wish I was there to see it but, conversely, not being there and having my imagination run wild feels like it makes everything even more intense and exciting. I made an off the cuff comment at one stage, I said I should write the story of how I picture some of what had happened. Louise loved the idea, I have written lots of things, for her, that I haven’t posted here. Most of them have been based on her real adventures but, also, some have been totally made up. They are usually based on dreams or a simple comment somewhere along the line). I sometimes send them to her when I’m away, some of them get her very turned on and I get some sexy comments in return. So yeah, she said I had to write it.

We had some nice, loving couple sex last night. Then I stayed up late, writing it. She read it once this morning, over breakfast. She’s gone to work now (I have a day off), before she left she told me my story was close in some ways but I had made it sound hotter than she even remembered it. So, here it is - based on reality but embellished by my dirty mind.

……….

It didn’t take long before your texts with him turned into some late night phone calls, he brought out a hidden side in you, the naughty girl had certainly surfaced but even you didn’t expect it to explode through it the way it did.

You always loved a slap on the arse, you sometimes wondered what taking it a little further would be like. He started to talk you into trying something, just come over and let me show you a few things, if you don’t like it we’ll stop immediately. There was even a safe word, one you came up with just in case he thought you were playing when you asked him to stop.

You went to his place on a Saturday afternoon, I was away, working late every night. You decided not to tell me your plans, you could see plenty of opportunities to twist me into a ball of knots with this one.

You were full of confidence on the phone the night before. After a few margaritas, you told him you couldn’t wait to show him what you could take and give out in return. The truth is you were a bundle of nerves when you stepped out of the cab, you almost told the driver to take you back home.

You could barely feel your legs as you made your way to his front door, you didn’t push the door bell, you were so nervous and figured could call another driver without him even knowing you had actually arrived.

You jumped when the door opened, startled at his unexpected presence, right there in front of you. It was like he had read your mind somewhere during those conversation, he had on your favourite outfit. A pair of blue jeans and nothing else. He looked even sexier than he had in the photos he’d shared, better even than the beach photo from his Facebook page.

Luckily, he had seen you walk up the steps to his very impressive looking house, he opened the door just before you would have turned to walk away. His smile helped too, he held the door open for you and you looked inside, wow, the staircase alone was amazing. You decided to go inside, you knew you could stop it at any time, you had seen in his face the confirmation you needed, he could be trusted.

“Hey, you look gorgeous,” he said. “I’m running a little late I’m sorry, I was just getting changed when you pulled up.”

You remembered your promise to yourself. During all that talk, the margaritas had made you brave and you were determined to take it up to him today.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you said, looking into his eyes. “Just blue jeans is my favourite outfit on a hunky guy like you.”

You let you fingers lightly graze his hip as you stepped inside the door. It was true, hunky was the right word. He must have last shaved the morning before, his dark stubble highlighted his dimples and his blue eyes. Oh yes, his shoulders and arms, your biggest visual aphrodisiac, they were even better than you imagined. You already pictured yourself touching them, the thought of running your hands along the big arms, over his tattooed shoulders and onto his muscular chest had you covered in goosebumps before you had even finished walking through his front door.

His house was stunning, you found it hard to believe there isn’t a woman in his life. Well, a permanent woman at least. The outdoor area was amazing too, he led you outside and sat you under a little cabana by the pool. A bottle of wine and two glasses were taken from a wide, glass doored under counter fridge, he must have remembered your favourite white.

“I take it one of these will be ok gorgeous, is it a little early for a margarita?”

Of course he knew of your margarita love, they would come later in the night. He had made up a food platter too, the two of you sat by his pool for two hours, just chatting and nibbling on the late lunch. The bottle of wine became two, you were just a little bit light headed and very care free when he reached down to take your foot, resting it in his lap, holding it with both hands. You had told him all about your love of massages, foot massages in particular, and were treated to a very special ten or fifteen minutes on each side.

He was in no hurry, he had a plan and he could tell you were becoming much more at ease. You had fully relaxed and had even started to pick up on a bit of the innuendo in things he said. He could see his “margarita girl” was awakening, it was only white wine but, even so, you were starting to be more like that late night phone call version of you.

You knew it too, after all you had arrived there with your own plan. Well, maybe it was more of an intent than a plan but, either way, you didn’t need that margarita to move beyond your flirty stage. You had decided you were ready to go inside and you turned your foot, just a little, so you could press your toes against the growing bulge in his jeans, making sure he knew it too.

He took your hand and said it was time to show you something. You followed, holding his fingers tightly, nervous again as he led you up those stairs and into a room at the back of his house. It was his own personal dungeon.

Despite your determination, and what you had said on the phone, your bravado had all fallen away. You happily and totally submitted to him. It was what you really wanted.

You stood there shaking as he slowly and gently undressed you. He didn’t make any moves to touch you as he exposed more of you, he just looked, those eyes at least telling you he liked what he saw. It was like he had gotten a bit lost in the moment too but, suddenly, he must have remembered his own words, the way he had described the control he would have over you. You saw a little smile, one that made those dimples pop as he changed gears, quickly becoming firmer. he was much more like the master you expected as he blind folded you and firmly guided you to the bed, the one you had noticed in in the corner of the room.

The sashes you had spotted soon had each of your limbs secured to a corner of the bed. You were on your back, spread eagled, heart pounding in your chest. You strained to see something through the tiny gap the blindfold left under each eye, but there nothing to see.

He left you like that for a good fifteen minutes, mostly he was quiet, all you knew was that he was there. Occasionally he made a noise, deliberately, keeping you tense, making you guess at what he was doing.

There was a swishing sound, it had to be one of his whips but what was he doing with it.

There was a ruffling sound, followed by the unmistakable sound of a kettle boiling water. What was that about you wondered? The goose bumps rose again, all over you, this time caused more by fear than any kind of arousal or sexual tension.

What was he doing?

There was more silence, then more soft noises, was he getting undressed?

Yes, that had to be a zip, he must be taking off his jeans.

Or was he, maybe he was putting something on?

More silence.

Then you jumped, startled as a drop of something hot landed on your thigh, right before you noticed a strong coconut fragrance, drawn into your nose and lungs by your heavy breathing.

It was at least two more minutes before the next drop landed, a little higher on the same leg. More drops followed, then it turned into a trickle as you finally realised it was warm oil that he was applying.

He massaged your legs then, he did it hard to, making you writhe under his touch. You were naked, your legs were pulled apart but he never touched you there, not then anyway, not during the massage.

Not even when he untied you and made you turn over before he tied you to the bed again, face down this time.

You waited a couple of minutes again, there were more mystery sounds before the ritual started again. First one drop of oil to the back of your thigh, it felt even hotter than the first time. Then another, and another, the drops turning into a trickle again. This time he covered your legs, arse and lower back in the hot, fragrant oil.

Once again the massage, blissfully hard, bordering on painful. Again you writhed under his touch, sticking your oily arse up into the air, as far as it would go with your arms and legs tied as they were, as he ran his thumbs deep into the muscle along the outsides of your legs.

Then he stopped, you were sure you heard him leave the room. The truth was that he went for a drink of water and a visit to the bathroom, he told you that later. He took his time, he knew you had no idea what would happen next.

He knew the anticipation, the tense fear would be building within you. Every minute he was gone.

You didn’t even hear him come back into the room again, you just heard that swish again, a fraction of a second before you felt it’s sting, on the left cheek of your oily arse.

Your first thought was that he had whipped your bottom but you quickly realised it wasn’t your pretty little bottom at all, it was your fucking arse that he had whipped and he owned as much of it as he liked.

You had been sacred but any thoughts of using the safe word vanished, all your fears, all your other thoughts and emotions were quickly replaced by nothing but intense excitement, you were desperate for that swish and the sting again, and he knew it.

It was a full five minutes before you were blessed with it, this time it landed in the middle of your right cheek. It was quickly followed by another, lower this time, it landed high on your right thigh, wrapping around your leg to sting you right where he had earlier probed so hard with his strong thumbs.

You’d cried out, just softly, with both of them. They stung, in a deliciously exciting way.

The fourth lash, which landed across both your arse cheeks, was met with more of a moan than a cry. He only gave you a few more at that point, one low on your leg, one on your lower back.

They were actually only very light, he was just testing you, exploring what you were capable of taking, looking for signs of how you felt about it.

You writhed again, pushing your arse into the air, he knew from that response that you were enjoying all of it, he could also see you were getting very wet, the glistening on your spread lips told him you were loving it.

The last one was harder, quite a lot harder. You moaned loudly that time, “oh fuck yes,” he heard you say, barely whispered after the deep, louder, guttural moan.

He knew he had you in exactly the right place.

You felt, rather than heard, him move to the side of the bed. You waited, you expected, no you wanted to feel the sting again, right on your arse. But no, you realised he was untying you, the ties to your right side went loose first, then he moved again and you felt the left side ones loosen. The sashes were still in place though, they were just no longer connected to the bed.

He said just one word.

“Stand.”

You did as you were told and he led you by the arm, firmly, across the room.

You had earlier noticed what looked like a wide, knee high, embossed leather ottoman. You realised that was what he had led you to. Guiding you by the arm, he positioned you at one of end of it before he firmly pushed against your upper back, commanding you to lie down. You heard him working and felt the ties on all four limbs tighten again. He had tied you so your torso laid across the leather top, your knees were on the ground, pulled apart by the manner in which he had retied you. You could touch the ground with your fingers, your chin could rest on the edge of the leather, you could feel the raised seam under it and realised your head was right at the far end of the piece of furniture.

You expected it then, the swish and the sting came, but this was different. It felt more like a smack than being whipped. You couldn’t help but moan, it felt so good. He did it again, and then again, over the next ten minutes you lost count but he smacked your arse another eight times, each one made the goose bumps rise and your pussy a little wetter.

Then he started to touch you, everywhere. His palms rubbed across your back, you arse and your head. His fingers probed you, they poked and kneaded, they were in your pussy before they were in your mouth. Soon after, you heard the zip again and you felt the unmistakable sensation of a hard dick pressing against your labia. You did not resist, you wanted it, you craved to feel him inside you.

Deprived of your sight, in a silent room, you just wanted to be fucked.

But not yet he had decided, you felt a finger, then his dick pushing against your arse, you did not want him in there but, more so, you were not going to say the word, not yet.

He read your response though, he could tell, he knew he would take your arse one day, just not today.

He moved again, this time he lifted the blindfold from your eyes as he knelt in front of you. It was the first time you had seen him in well over an hour, the leather pants he had put on were unzipped and his cock was briefly there, right in front of your face. But he stood back up, even before your eyes had adjusted to the bright lights of the room.

Swish, smack, the paddle you had seen in his hand landed on your arse, once again you gasped at the sting, the slaps were getting harder to take.

But still you enjoyed them so much.

He knelt in front of you again, almost without thought, acting on some sort of primal impulse, you strained forward and managed to make light contact, your lips briefly brushing the underside of his erect penis. He stood again, and moved away, this time returning with a multi strapped leather whip in his hand.

He ran those straps across your face, then flicked his wrist to give a light but stinging blow to the middle of your back.

He pushed the blindfold back down, taking away your sight again. You had no idea what would happen next, but when he knelt in front of you again you just knew it would only be for a brief moment.

It was a little different that time, he took the sides of your face in his hands and barely waited for your lips to part before he pushed himself into your mouth. You groaned loudly, sucking him in greedily, trying to hold him in place as you felt him start to slowly withdraw himself from your throat, your mouth and, finally, your lips.

You didn’t see him smile down at you, fondly, as you whimpered, wishing he was still in your mouth.

You desperately wanted more, if you had been in control you could have pushed him back onto that bed, you could have teased him with your tongue. You could have kissed the head of his dick and licked at the pre-cum you just knew you could have squeezed from him.

But you were blind, surrounded by silence as you could only imagine kissing your way up that hard, flat stomach. You knew you would bite his nipples, graze your teeth across his chin, feel his stubble on your cheek as you took him inside you.

That was what you wanted at that moment, just him. Inside you.

More than anything.

He knew it too. Your whimpers, the moans, the way you twitched at the tiny noises he made.

He moved to stand behind you. He dragged his toe across the carpet, the soft sound giving you enough information to know where he was. He saw the muscles in your back and thighs flex, as you involuntarily rolled your hips to offer yourself to him.

He quietly knelt behind you as he gazed at your open wetness, a mix of you and the oil offering him a treat that he was dying to taste. He kept his control though, as your master he knew it was time to take you, not taste you.

His cock twitched as he took himself in his right hand, squeezing, making his dick even harder as he lined up behind you.

He was ready to own you. You were ready to be owned.

Should I make a comeback? Will base my decision on number of people that reblog this post, and possibly the comments 😘.