4 comments/  13214 views/  14 favorites

Spreading My Wings Ch. 01

By: SandraMustard



This story series chronicles my initial extra-marital experiences. They began late in 2013 after over forty years in a monogamous marriage. Originally, my husband gave me permission to seek sexual gratification from other partners as a gift of his love; I subsequently gave him freedom to do the same. We now have an open marriage that includes swinging, sharing, and threesomes. I am a mature woman (over sixty) who still enjoys energetic sex. Despite flab, wrinkles, and saggy boobs, I have no problem attracting and satisfying younger partners. These are real life encounters. I don't falsify my appearance or pretend all sex outcomes are perfect, so don't expect porn-like fantasies. 

Spreading My Wings Ch. 01 - Why he gave me a hall pass.

SandraMustard 2014

*****

I have started two story series before this one about the sexcapades of my husband and I. Each one has mentioned the recent alteration of our marital relationship that allows us to have sex with other partners. Invariably, feedback and private messages have asked how we arrived at such an arrangement. This seems like an opportune moment to dedicate a whole chapter to provide our background.

I will present what may seem like trivial information and tangential sex experiences but I have an end-purpose in mind. Rather than just mention problems we had and decisions we made, I hope readers will make the journey we did. Our experiences and choices might help others solve their issues in similar ways. In addition, I'm naturally gabby and telling all my sex experiences is a form of exhibitionism.

Some couples have open marriages from day one because of sexual practices that existed before they married and they have a mutual understanding to continue them. Others arrive at an agreement in the ensuing years through honest communications that explore fantasies or desires lurking in the recesses of their minds. For some, major influences breakdown the harmony of conjugal sex but instead of having an affair or getting a divorce, enlightened couples adapt and find new arrangements that work for them. The key to the success in all situations is open communications and unselfish motivations. Jealousy and egotism can destroy what trust and generosity create.

My future husband and I met right after I graduated eighth-grade. We dated throughout my high school years, but not exclusively because of our age differences and attending different schools. We both had some petting-sex experiences with others but reserved our hottest passion exploration for each other. Despite my willingness and desire to experience sex early in our courtship, we limited our sexual activities for four years. We were both still virgins when we consummated our love after I graduated; I was nineteen, Jack was twenty-two. Three weeks later, he asked me to marry him.

Sexual experimentation early in our marriage.

Our sex was exciting and satisfying from the beginning. We communicated honestly and explored what was mutually arousing; exploring that almost led us to develop an open marriage right away. During the first two years of our marriage, we had cannabis-enhanced parties with other couples and individuals. We met with many friends to enjoy music and play card games but there was something kinky about two particular couples, led by my exhibitionistic best girlfriend, Jane, and her husband, Will. Sharon and Randy were engaged and although they never instigated anything, they readily went along with whatever everyone else did. With my husband willing to expose himself at the drop of a hat, when it was just the six of us, the card game evolved into strip poker.

My husband added a dimension to the games wherein a player could continue after losing all their clothes; but if they lost another hand, they had to masturbate in front of the others. He was the first to play under the last chance condition but Jane and then Randy had to perform the losing ritual before he did. One time when I lost the crucial hand to Jack, I grabbed his cock and gave him a handjob. Thereafter, the loser had to get the winner off whether it was their partner or not. The guys objected to man on man service so we allowed surrogate choices.

Jane made no bones about wanting to have sex with my husband, starting back when we were dating. She remained hopeful for permission even after we all were married. Leave it to her to introduce oral servicing the winners. She was stroking Jack, her head hovering over his throbbing member, when Will warned her that she risked getting a facial. Her solution was to cover Jack's cock with her mouth. After he came, she proudly showed his cum on her tongue. I returned the favor by sucking Will that same night but it took a while for everyone to adopt the oral play.

We went so far as to have contests to see who could give the best oral. Sharon could deep-throat all of them, even her well-hung fiancé. I thought I could, having throated Jack before, but under the spotlight, I failed miserably. Jane was the most eager and managed to have her own orgasm without contact to her sex. Sharon's technique was slow and sensuous so the guys declared her the best. Like his wife, Will was an energetic clit-licker but almost brutish. Randy was painstakingly deliberate. Jack used the most variations; Jane and Sharon voted him the best, so I made it unanimous, although I found it hard to think about judging technique while riding my orgasms.

I considered all the cunnilingus outstanding, based on what receiving it did to me, which was to crown me the orgasm-queen; nobody could orgasm as often as I could. Jane could climax easily the first time like me, but was slow to rebound. Sharon took a long time to cook up her orgasm but set duration records at the top of the wave.

It probably would not have been much longer before we started swapping partners for full intercourse but the sex parties stopped before anyone did. The only fucking occurred once when Randy and Sharon, newlyweds by then, were swept up in their passion. The rest of us cheered on the live porn.

Two things contributed to the demise of the sex games. First, Jane and Will separated. I think they both would have been fine with some mutual extra-marital sex but Will had a few solo adventures with other women. Jane came to one gathering alone but it was too difficult for her to be around our happy relationships. Second, Sharon and I stopped smoking pot because we wanted to start raising families. I got pregnant the first month I went off the pill; Sharon took two years to conceive. With maturing attitudes toward family unity and lessening influences from the free-love generation, the sex play disappeared from our parties.

Our erotic games taught me something about the diversity of lovers and techniques in the world, making me appreciate the talents and love of my husband, and ending without regret further exploring sex with other partners. That is my judgment in hindsight, not that I made conscious decisions about those things at the time. Even without further comparisons, I knew my spouse developed into a lover par excellence.

Jack had several opportunities to have sex with other women. The first was my cousin, Trish, just a year after we were married. The whole story is too involved to explain why, but after a night of heavy drinking, they were in bed together for nearly an hour. We agreed that we would never discuss what happened. At times, I believed that they had sex but Jack always claimed he never had intercourse with another woman and he never lies. Forty years later, I learned they had oral sex. He went so far as to enter her for intercourse, but overcome by guilt, he withdrew immediately. That particular narrow escape set his determination to be always faithful to me.

About two years after the games stopped, Jane came to our house right after her divorce was final. I was long past nursing our first child so the three of us smoked some pot. Claiming to be starved for loving, Jane aggressively instigated two-on-one oral sex with Jack. After it ended with orgasmic sixty-nine between Jack and Jane, she tearfully begged to spend the night in our bed. I was undecided but Jack firmly denied her request.

My husband's other chances occurred while traveling for work. His exhibitionism caused some women to offer him sex; being honorable in character and very determined by nature, he always declined. He feared the allure of sexy, young women and kept them distant. Old, mature women sometimes received passes, which led to handjobs from a blue-haired woman in a sauna and a maid in a hotel room. He told me about every experience he had as a check-valve on the temptations. Reliving them with me gave me a sense of being with him and we shared the titillation of each situation. His reward was the passionate lover who welcomed him home and satisfied his desire.

Decades of monogamous sex.

Following our early exploration, our sex lives remained on a steady plateau for nearly two decades. We dabbled with exhibitionism (me facilitation his exposures) and public sex on occasions, but never felt tempted to include contact with strangers. Socializing with friends didn't include hints of sexuality anymore, even during adults-only parties.

The changes that occurred after that period were gradual and they caused us little concern. We considered them a natural part of life and relationship maturations. At home, our sex was less frequent and more mundane. I almost stopped fellating my husband all together and he performed oral on me only to get me ready quicker. Occasional weekends away generated the sparks of old but passion's flames never made it back to our home hearth.

Raising our family took on the greatest importance, thus demanding time and energies we used to spend wooing each other. When the kids were young, we could send them to bed but as they grew, we had little privacy. They made jokes about our bedroom noises and caught us being intimate. It was safer to have a quickie at bedtime but often we were too tired.

Our careers interfered with our sex life too. My husband landed a job at Bell Laboratories designing computers. After decades of field work, he had a desk job. He loved his job and worked extra hours to get ahead but less physical activity began his weight gain. He self-taught himself to write computer programs, and then switched from hardware design to software development. When not writing code for work, he was at home writing his own programs.

With our kids in school, I went back to work in the hotel industry. I managed a promotion to supervise the restaurant and catering at a major hotel. While there were benefits with my position, I worked crazy hours; days, nights, weekends, and holidays. We were strangers in our own home. Only monthly weekends away kept our relationship pointed in the right direction.

With a lesser college degree, my husband found his salary topping out despite his abilities. Then a fabulous company recruited him to become a consultant. He spent three years on a team project that earned him a prestigious award (IABC Gold Quill) but the sixty-hour workweeks and ninety-minute communes were telling on him physically and stressed our relationship even more.

I felt stress from work too. I was fighting an old-boy network and an incorrigible boss who hired a sexy bimbo for the food and beverage director position I wanted. I finally quit, then started my own business. Trappings of running my business took over every room in our home, crowding out feelings of personal refuge. I now worked close to sixty hours a week too. Shortcuts to sex didn't work without time for romance. I saw our sex life falling apart and felt desperate to recapture the excitement we once had.

Sexual resurgence.

When we went away for a three-day weekend to celebrate my husband's fiftieth birthday, I was determined to do everything to please and inspire my lover. Circumstances led me to take off my clothes and masturbate to orgasm on a hotel balcony while a stranger watched from below and jerked off. Sure, exposing my body excited me and I had an intense orgasm from my fingers, but the show I put on aroused my husband also and was the catalyst I was looking for. Wildly turned-on, we immediately enjoyed the kind of passionate lovemaking that had been waning for years. We had energetic oral sex, too. I deep-throated my husband several times and swallowed his cum.

I instigated more exhibitions to keep the fires of passion flaring all weekend. For supper at a restaurant, I wore no underwear under my gown; I didn't flash anybody but the prospect made us both horny. While cruising on a rented pontoon boat, I went topless but I don't think anybody saw. When room service delivered our supper the second night, I wore a see through nightie; the waiter definitely saw my pussy.

The best exhibition happened when I talked a cleaning maid into doing our room even though Woody was showering. She saw plenty of him. Eventually, I fucked my husband on the couch while she vacuumed just a few feet away. In all our previous public sex episodes, I can't be certain anyone ever saw us. This time, there was no doubt; she stopped and watched.

The instant gratification I received from this weekend experience and the renewed vigor in our sex convinced me to be active in ways to excite my husband. Total dedication to his pleasures reawakened the lover I had enjoyed since high school. I was happy to expose myself publicly while my hubby watched voyeur reactions or to fuck him while someone watched us; I willingly acted in ways that aroused my husband because his inspired sexual reactions became the reward for me.

We enjoyed a general sexual resurgence over the next five years but the hottest sex occurred when we did edgy stuff away from home. In our bedroom, quality still lacked for opportunity and his performance ability, which continued to show signs of decline. 

On a ladies' weekend on Mackinaw Island with my sister and cousin celebrating my fiftieth birthday, we signed up for special pampering spa treatments. Somehow, I was the only one of us who received a happy ending from the female masseuse. A one-off experience that didn't generate interest for me in female contact or massage treatments, it did affect decisions I made this past year.

The sexual highlight of the resurgence was our thirtieth anniversary vacation in Hawaii. We had public sex and did all manner of exposing ourselves. We planned the exhibitions and agreed to consider pushing the boundaries if a situation warranted it.

We toured the Arizona and Missouri memorials where some gents discovered I didn't wear panties under my dress. I didn't object when a man's hand brushed my ass several times on a public bus ride. On another bus, I sat next to an elderly Asian man with my pussy carelessly exposed. We tried a clothing-optional beach on Maui one day but my heaviest menstrual flow that day meant I only went topless and didn't swim.

While staying on the big island, we chartered a fishing boat; just us and the two-man crew for four hours out at sea. They said others have done it, so I went topless. Jack caught a blue marlin and I filmed the fight. After they hauled the fish aboard, I handed the running camera to the captain so I could congratulate my hubby, forgetting I was topless. The cassette tape recording clearly showed me flopping my boobs around the fantail and then excitedly telling the story to the camera; such an embarrassing recital will never have an audience.

We had sex on the balcony of our Waikiki hotel and in a rented car at a roadside stop along the Road to Hana. I left a curtain partially open so a man could see me try on bathing suits while he waited for his wife to the same. When I peeked at a young man in a fitting room, I saw him rubbing his long cock. With my husband watching over my shoulder, I leaned into his cubicle and gave him a few helping strokes. After he came and left (pun intended), Jack fucked me in the changing room.

In the middle of a night of heavy drinking near the end of our vacation, we sat naked in an outdoor whirlpool. Instead of hiding when a seventyish man joined us, I stood naked in front of him and convinced him to remove his suit. While we talked about his life in the Navy, I grabbed his hand underwater and put it between my legs. While he fingered me to orgasm, I gave handjobs to both him and my husband.

I didn't have intercourse with another man despite several chances. We hadn't talked that seriously about it; besides, I wasn't ready. The handjobs didn't really push our boundaries that once encompassed oral sex but were the most edgy thing we did in decades. If you read my "Hawaiian Loving" story, you can recognize which real life events I just mentioned inspired those sexual romps of fantasy.

Those already familiar with all my stories may wonder why I haven't mentioned Leilani yet. I saved the best for last as she was both. Who can deny she was the best sexual adventure we had in Hawaii, and our tryst with her culminated on our last night of vacation. She really was a nudie-calendar model who enjoyed seeing Jack naked and getting him excited. She gladly accepted an offer of masturbation role-playing with my husband. With Jack's semen dribbled across her naked body, I suggested licking it off. Leilani hoped we would, even begged us; she wanted a threesome with us. My submitted story and reality diverge at that point.

Jack looked at me and read uncertainty in my eyes. He left her naked body to spoon mine. Kissing led to oral and a wonderful fuck, all while Leilani watched and jilled next to us. Leilani was tearful when she described what she witnessed. She hugged us both when we got out of the bed. Pressed naked against Jack, she discovered his fantastic kissing ability. When he finally let her go, she grabbed a condom from her coat pocket nearby and asked if there was any chance. Jack answered no.

Returning home, sex became a niche activity again all too soon. Jack's physical difficulties began to abort lovemaking at times. The following summer staged our final hotel shenanigans. We were fucking in the indoor swimming pool until interrupted by the front desk clerk who advised us we were on closed-circuit television. At night, I met the room-service waiter in just a gauzy, see-through smock. I offered to jerk him off as a special tip; not surprisingly, he accepted. I sat naked in a chair, pumping his cock until it sprayed spunk on my tits. Jack enjoyed fucking me looking at my pearl necklace. He had dared me long ago to fellate a stranger but this cock opportunity did not strike me as clean enough.

Problems came back worse.

Our sexual reprise was a disguise for burgeoning problems. It took the extra kick of naughty behavior to drive our libido. Our regular life had insufficient time for fun and games. We had little going for us when we suffered the double whammy of getting old and other imposing problems. Menopause was awful for me. I felt miserable, unsexy, and bitchy all the time. A less rewarding job demoralized my husband and his weight reached obese proportions. He didn't feel attractive; leg cramps aborted many attempts at intercourse; he began having problems getting or maintaining erections; and I couldn't take his weight on top of me long enough for either of us to orgasm. Oral sex seemed an admission of failure and lost its appeal for both of us.

My husband's health deteriorated under physical and mental stress. A disc fragment in his spine nearly crippled him. A failed stress test saved his life because it led to angioplasties and regular cardio care but introduced many medications (blood pressure, blood thinners, cholesterol, and thyroid). In an attempt to resolve his erectile dysfunction issue, he saw a urologist. Examinations and blood tests ruled out prostrate trouble but none of the big three medications (Viagra, Levitra, Cialis) worked more than marginally for him. We thought the problem was age related and unfixable; eventually, it caused him to lose confidence and stop trying to initiate sex.


Spreading My Wings Ch. 01



We still communicated well at this point. We both considered our loss of sexual appetite as a fact of life that we would accept. We preferred to remain married, even under nearly sexless conditions. We went long periods without attempting intimacy. Sometimes, we used oral to please each other, while at other times, we tried to use it as foreplay, mostly without success.

I didn't know how deeply my husband fretted over his problems being solely responsible. We stopped talking about sex; then stopped talking about many things. Our home life became hostile. He'd hole up in his computer room and I'd watch TV alone. If one of us went to bed, the other stayed up hours later. My business took over our house; his castle was no longer his haven.

I had two brothers come live with us; one of them stayed seven years rent-free. Instead of being empty-nesters, we had constant company which dramatically affected our privacy. The efforts I put into making my siblings feel at home ignored my husband's similar needs. Jack found it difficult to tolerate the situation but silently endured because he was family. I didn't recognize how much I let my brother use me until he reneged on his promise to help me when our home went into foreclosure.

We added financial problems. My business income fluctuated but my spending didn't. I demanded major remodeling projects and put on elaborate weddings for our two daughters. We used the housing boom equity in our home as an ATM. We refinanced several times, getting good rates, but keeping the mortgaged amount near market value. We would have to work until he was 75 to pay off our debt. I was getting bad business and relationship advice, from my own daughter of all people.

We started fighting over everything, if we spoke at all. When my husband shocked me with a proposal that I find another man to be my sexual partner, I thought he was setting me up for divorce. Even though we discussed it three times and he insisted he thought that if I was happy and satisfied, then our relationship would improve, I did not believe or trust him. I didn't want sex anyway. I began to doubt we would stay married.

Our world crashed when my husband lost his job because of the economy. Always able to find work before, he discovered nobody cared to hire a 60-something, talented and well-paid man when kids fresh out of school worked for less than half his salary. In a two-year spiral, we lost everything, our savings, our house, my business. He did spend hours every day looking for work, but I thought he spent too much time watching porn. His new interests insulted me when he had none for me. Our fights became epic and included slamming-door exits.

When we had to move, we lived separately for a year, each with one of our daughters. Family visits were feisty or icy; we couldn't talk without listing all the old wrongs and faults. Our oldest daughter said I should end our marriage; I believed it would be for the best. I left the state to live with my sister for a couple of months. Angry that I was walking out on him, he demanded that I decide our future once and for all. After many angry words and lots of crying, I admitted I was ready to get a divorce. 

Turning back from divorce plans.

Faced with ending my marriage, I spent several days unable to get out of bed. My eyes were puffy and red most of the time. My family had two opinions: Don't be hasty or don't leave him at all; none said ending our marriage was the answer. Our kids reported that they worried about their father's depression so much they had an intervention-like meeting with him. They were relieved to find him calm and realistic. He was resigned to the path we had chosen. There was regret, but no bitterness. He took all the blame. He promised he had no intention to do himself harm.

Five days passed before he called me again. We politely discussed what we had to do. He would talk to a lawyer; I should also. He mentioned a short-term consulting job that gave him some living money. He signed up to start getting his Social Security benefits early so he could live on his own. Three days later, we talked about our lawyer visits. We each had the same story. We had zero assets and grown children. Our best course would be no-fault divorce without lawyers. We continued talking almost two hours, the longest stretch without a harsh word in years. We focused on how we used to solve our differences and recognized how our fighting cost us everything. He took responsibility for failing me as a husband and lover while never pointing at any of my failures. Introspection prodded me to drop my defensive beliefs and soon I recognized my own terrible behavior.

Our talks continued to brighten. With nothing left to fight over, we reminisced about the things we used to enjoy. I stayed in Tennessee two more weeks to care for my ailing father. Despite civil conversations, I was still planning to return to Illinois as the place residency requirements would allow us to file for divorce immediately. Two days before leaving, we talked about where I would stay. Should we share his bed? A powerful longing pulled at me. His voice broke in mid-sentence; heart-wrenching sobs filled my ear. He tearfully offered apologies and promises in a plea for one last chance to make his princess happy. The man I married was worth another try. We shelved divorce plans. I was going back to him to see if we could work things out.

Driving six-hundred miles in my brother's old beater (no power steering, no air conditioning) was taxing. Without a radio, I was alone with my thoughts; I was eager to get there but wondered how we would act. I stopped a block away to say a prayer, hoping to quell my nervous doubts. When I pulled in the driveway, he stepped out the door. He looked haggard and noticeably thinner. I didn't want a happy-to-have-you-back, let's-forget-everything reaction but he didn't even smile. I saw his jaw clenched in a familiar manner to hold his emotions in check.

We met half way and wrapped our arms around each other. His shoulders quaked briefly and sobs jerked his breath. Our granddaughters clamoring for attention ended our silent hug followed by greetings from our daughter. The only affection we shared for several hours while visiting with all our kids and grandchildren was holding hands. I felt welcoming comfort flow from his touch. During an hour-long walk, we talked about our future. He promised that he would never again allow any hard feeling or misunderstanding to come between us. His only goal was to make me happy like he used to. We stopped on the river-walk to share a kiss, a reenactment of the first time he ever kissed me.

Our initial progress was cautious; we each wondered how committed the other was. Recent arguing habits had to be broken. With none of the material things left to fight about, and hours spent in conversation every day, we constructed a dream of a golden life we could pursue. There were some bumps, but the more we committed, the more we believed. We patched what had been good in our relationship into something new.

Restoring our intimacy was harder and the bumps were bigger. We did not want to have sex in our daughter's home where we stayed. We used a coupon from his casino membership rewards to get a free night's stay at the casino's hotel. Without telling me, he took one of his remaining Cialis pills before we left home. After we checked in an hour later, we watched the sunset while cuddling on the bed. Romantic talk led to soft kisses; his gentle hands caressing me all over.

Because he didn't rush the moment, he overcame my nervousness. He seduced me with the skills that had made him my lifelong lover. His tongue re-awakened my body that hadn't experienced an orgasm in over two years (no, I didn't even masturbate.) I had no expectations for intercourse, content to enjoy several oral delights, so I was surprised when he entered me. I was well lubricated from the cunnilingus, maybe too hot and wet. He came too quickly for me to have a vaginal orgasm but his vocal reactions to his completion gave me intense satisfaction.

We enjoyed a buffet dinner and several hours of gaming. Back in the room, we snuggled while watching a movie until I feel asleep. I felt bad about that because I think he wanted to work me over again. After a morning pee, I pulled back the covers to climb back in bed only to find his penis standing tall. He awoke when my mouth covered him. We decided to take immediate advantage of his erection. I lubed up with Vagisil to get started. He was hard enough to push deep and durable enough to give me two orgasms before he came.

I thought his problems might be behind us but discussions warned me otherwise. He admitted his Cialis use, but reminded me that previous uses had failed more often than succeeded. He talked about even failing masturbation attempts sometimes. His warnings were proven out a few weeks later when we used a relative's vacation home for a weekend getaway. Although he again took Cialis, he could not get hard and there was no penetration.

Our marriage was saved none-the-less. We enjoyed each other's company, took long walks, and talked about everything. We agreed we occasionally needed our own space, time to pursue our own interests, but always preferred to be together. We acknowledged these elements of our relationship were enough to keep us happy despite less than stellar sexual experiences.

A financial windfall got us on our feet. His AT&T pension, which wasn't scheduled to begin monthly disbursements for two years, suddenly offered an early lump-sum payout. We put most of it into an IRA savings and kept enough to move what belongings we had stored and set up as renters in a warmer climate. My husband continued to apply for jobs both in Information Technology and all types of part time labor but nobody contacted him for an interview. At the same time, I found several jobs. With Social Security, my pay, and occasional IRA withdrawals, we are living comfortably in retirement.

Essentially, we are on permanent vacation, able to enjoy whatever activity we choose on a whim. Bike riding, nature walks, and snorkeling keep us active. We take advantage of the senior discount days at the theater, sample the many restaurants in our resort region, and bump elbows with the tourists in shops and nightclubs. We are the goofy old couple who hug and kiss while shopping at Walmart. Not a week goes by that doesn't have at least one walk on the beach at sunset. All so romantic, so enjoyable, but still missing an important ingredient.

Sex with others.

My husband was careful not to dump heavy confessions on me when I still felt uncertain about our future, but eventually I learned about everything that went on during the period when our communications had gone dead. When he told me what he knew about his problems, he admitted it came from research and experimentation. According to every medical professional he spoke to about it, his weight problems had the strongest bearing on his erectile dysfunction. Yet his weight loss caused by depression over divorce discussions didn't create a consistent performance improvement. His blood sugar bounced around the diabetes threshold, another known factor. Some of the eight medications he takes every day are linked to ED in medical studies. The clogged arteries in his heart are likely systemic, yet not much work is being done to stent penis blood supply.

When we separated, he questioned his manhood. He sometimes had trouble masturbating but persistence usually succeeded, so he wondered how much of his failure with me in recent years was from lack of desire for me. He wasn't ready to look for a girlfriend, thus he decided to get impersonal, paid sex; a five-month employment stint flushed his wallet enough to afford it.

First, he visited a 'rub-n-tug'. He had researched the happy ending culture and knew to say he had been there before but she treated him like a first-timer and possible law enforcement. She refused to wash his genitals during the table shower. She kept him draped throughout. When she said the massage was done, neither of them mentioned a happy ending directly as they struggled with their language barrier while talking about him not being pleased. He found a magic word when he said 'please' in Korean. She put one hand on his stomach, placed one of his on hers, and asked, "Where more?" His hand guided hers to his penis and she gave him a handjob.

Afterwards, he was disappointed. The massage was short, poor, and expensive. They charge for an hour but barely rub half that long, and then expect a hefty tip for the happy ending. The orgasm was weaker than when his own hand provides the stimulation and he was disappointed that he didn't get more excitement from being naked with a strange lady. Despite his misgivings, he went back for another.

On the second visit, the woman gave him more of a girlfriend experience. She greeted him with a hug and pressed her body against him. The table shower included significant attention to his cock and butt. The massage was undraped and sensually teasing. After the flip, she went straight for the handjob despite him being completely flaccid. When she stopped after getting pre-cum only, they argued over whether he had an orgasm. Only when he threatened, "No happy, no tip," did she continue stroking.

To encourage him, she pulled up her shirt and bra and placed his hands on her breasts. When he made moves to touch her pussy, she obliged by pushing her pants and panties to her knees. She leaned over to let him suck her nipples and his finger entered her vagina. The sex act was ridiculous. Her clothes were merely pushed aside but not removed. Her contortions to pump his cock with her chest over his head and her hips at arms-length were distracting. She was merely doing a job she didn't enjoy, her pussy dry and nipples non-erect. He had a pathetic orgasm while only semi-hard. She argued for a bigger tip because she partially undressed and she believed he came twice. He complained he didn't get a full hour and denied multiple orgasms. He gave her the same tip as before and left. She told him not to come back. He had no intention to go back.

He made one more attempt to find excitement from a similar establishment. Listings from Rubmaps suggested a place 40 miles distant provided better experiences including full service. He was treated as a regular right away. Perhaps, the young woman was relaxed by the kindly old man. She discussed 'services' and costs up front. Both the costs and a predilection to avoid intercourse steered his decision to try sixty-nine, the transaction paid for in advance. She undressed him and playfully rubbed her cheek on his penis as she did so. She removed her dress for the table shower, revealing she wore no underwear. Her breast appeared augmented; her vulva shaved bare. The shower was lots of body contact and well washed genitals - she let him wash her, too.

Back in the private room, there was no pretense of a massage. She had him lie on his back and she climbed over him in the other direction. She had a condom in her mouth but couldn't apply it to his completely limp cock so she used her hand to awaken the sluggish little man. Meanwhile, she had dropped her sex right on his mouth. He found her clean, odorless, and her labia invitingly open.

His tongue found her slightly aroused, her taste very mild. She had an eager clit that danced to his expert methods. He said it was fun to excite her and he knew her arousal was real. She became dripping wet, her labia swelling and drooping. Her moans and gasps may have been rehearsed but they were authentic. When she had her orgasm, her body shuddered.

While he had been concentrating on her, he wasn't responding fully to her. She had managed to massage his cock to a firm enough state to apply the condom. Although she was mouthing him, he felt nothing. The latex shielded the moisture and warmth of her mouth and her lips lacked enough pressure to be felt moving on his shaft. When she had her climax, he wasn't fully hard yet. He believes she might have been upset that a customer wasn't responding; or, she was experienced enough to change tactics to something that would work.

She removed the condom and squirted a liquid on her hand as she changed position to sit on his groin. It appeared she would ride him cowgirl-style. Her hand grasped his cock and slid it up and down her butt-crack. The warming gel she applied made it feel like he was inside her. The ride was incredibly brief, mere seconds; the sensations caused him to cum immediately.

Lying naked with him, she made it clear she liked him and wanted to have full sex with him next time. He knew from her acting that it would be enjoyable at least, but lacking emotional satisfaction. In her own words, she admitted she was a working girl. The sex would be business, paid sex with a woman who fucked any man with enough cash. He knew she was an option, but never had a next time.

Sadly, he discovered things that used to excite him no longer did with any certainty. Even watching attractive ladies dancing naked on a pole or in his lap at a gentlemen's club did nothing for him. He had to admit his body was failing him. Occasional success was all he could achieve. Our discussions about his troubles and experimentation opened my mind to why he turned his thoughts to my needs.

Experimenting with sex ended for him when we agreed to reconcile. Although my husband stopped seeking sensual release as the end goal, he had discovered the pleasure of therapeutic massages. He continues to think about massages in erotic ways and seeks to combine both. He is still in search of a skilled masseuse who provides excellent therapy, tolerates no draping, and includes a happy ending. He has not found all three attributes in one therapist yet. I condoned his continued search early on and his knowledge of the therapy industry open doors for me to pleasures I might otherwise have missed.

For the past year, my husband has been receiving massages from a talented woman. She works in a parlor but also does outcalls with her portable table. She is school trained and licensed, her skills the best he has known. He found her when he needed treatment for strained hip flexors. Although he remained draped, she moved the sheet to work, exposing both legs and his butt at the same time. After the flip, she worked on the flexor muscle group first. She had him on his side and the sheet fell away from his groin. She worked very close to and even bumped his genitals. The conditions felt erotic and his penis grew but not fully. She didn't comment and covered him for the rest of the session. The total massage was thorough except one obvious place. She worked ninety minutes to finish but charged for only the hour. He tipped her fifty percent.

Her second massage started with him complaining that he was too warm. She acknowledged his heavy perspiration the previous time and pulled off the sheet. He has been undraped every time since. She massages him everywhere but refuses to touch his genitals, which have never gotten hard again. This seems odd because she talks about getting esthetician training and intends to practice on my husband. Her first five outcalls were always while I was working or visiting out of state. She knew that I existed by my things in our house, but may have believed either that I didn't know she allowed him to be undraped, or that I didn't even know she was giving him a massage in our home.

I purposely made an appointment for him and waited until he was naked on the table in our living room before I left to go shopping. With my apparent consent, will she score the trifecta and massage away all his stiffness? My husband doubts it. She may be the best therapist ever to work on him and tolerant of his nudity, but she has a professional attitude about her business that appears unbending.




Spreading My Wings Ch. 01



Once our intimacy returned and we discovered his difficulties continued and might become permanent, we looked toward another activity to provide satisfaction rather than just arousal. I'm referring to fellatio. I had some selfish reservations for most of our marriage because I didn't want to waste his orgasm. After getting over taste issues, I never fully adapted to the texture of semen. There was another issue I had but never made the connection before - hair in my mouth. I nearly vomit if I encounter hair such as mine while eating. My husband has hair on his lower penis shaft as I assume all men have. What used to be short lengths had grown with aging to long strands that reach my throat.

When I finally voiced my displeasures, he suggested we remove his genital hair. He can't see the area to shave himself so I tried ... once. I cut him in a tender place. He couldn't relax again when I held a razor. Thus began his manzilian practices, letting professional estheticians rip his hair out by the roots. I don't understand why he prefers that to shaving.

The only reason he continues today is the effect it has had on me; I've become an enthusiastic cocksucker. The visual absence of hairs around his cock alleviates my fears of encountering them. The undisturbed feeling of his smooth shaft sliding on my lips is enjoyable. I'm not anxious to pull off and the intended purpose to have him come in my mouth has me acclimated to the texture of his semen finally. I can swallow now without building up courage. His joking analogy compares it to having acquired a taste for sushi.

He has had four different women wax him. Despite being naked while a female works around and with his genitals, he didn't experience arousal from them handling his cock until recently. As a way to explain why an old fat man wants to be waxed, Jack has told each esthetician that I don't like hair in my mouth. All have had positive reactions to his declaration.

He has found a young Asian woman who owns a nail salon with her husband. She doesn't wear gloves while pulling and pushing his penis to stretch the skin. All four have touched him while working; it's a necessary part of the treatment, but she wraps her fingers around his penis or holds it down with her palm.

During one waxing this past summer, I was having a manicure from her husband in the salon while she worked on him in the back room. Jack reported that she seemed to hold him constantly that time and he got an erection. She declared it was normal and even joked about her husband and his wife being nearby.

At his most recent waxing, she again handled his member more than seemed necessary. Jack could not ignore the sensations of her pulling and pressing; he got a hard-on. He didn't feel it was necessary to state the obvious. She had her fingers wrapped around his glans and her grip seemed to squeeze him as she applied wax to his shaft. When she placed the paper tape on the wax and rubbed the tape to make the wax adhere, the up and down motion on his penis was too much like a hand job. He tried to stop the tingling in his groin but it only intensified.

With a whispered, "I'm sorry," semen spurted out of his cock. She didn't even let go of his penis; instead, she used her hand to point the ejaculation at his stomach. When it stopped, she grabbed a towel to wipe the semen away, and then continued waxing him as if nothing happened.

She wasn't angry or upset by his accident. In fact, she commented that is was good that he could still do that at his age. When she applied aloe at the end of the session, she rubbed it on his entire penis in a stroking motion for nearly ten seconds. For someone who warned him that any sexual expectation would ban him as a customer (as all estheticians seem to do), she escalated the contact herself and seemed comfortable with his resulting orgasm. We are both curious about what will happen during future waxings.

His gift to me.

I've described our sexual life in detail to prove my husband had always been a consummate lover who dedicated his lovemaking skills to pleasing me first. After some early experimenting, we considered sex and love interlocked at a personal level and we acted accordingly. Despite having a tolerance to include sexual play with others, for four decades neither of us stepped outside our marriage for sexual satisfaction. Even when both love and sex began to deteriorate, we stayed committed to our monogamy.

Many marriages break down for many reasons. The most common recourse is giving up. Despite the emotional pain, divorce is the easy way out; it's much harder to fix a relationship. Our story is not rare for the problems we encountered or even for having solved our differences, but exemplary for how our sexual relationship evolved because of first changing our attitudes. Our rebirth began with a gift of love.

My husband owned his libido issues. Even when he experimented with youthful partners, he couldn't always get it up. In his virile days, any woman who touched him or just looked at his cock got instant wood. Now a masseuse sees him flaccid for 30-40 minutes; a young woman holds his limp noodle for an hour. In our lovemaking, penetration was uncertain and orgasms difficult. His performance ability almost reached zero. Despite recent improvements, he knows he'll never again be what he once was.

The failures he was dealing with and the things we once did created his frame of mind when it came to deciding what he could do for me. He can give me plenty of orgasms; his tongue is a tireless magician. Yet, my perceptive lover knows my body craves intercourse to feel the deepest satisfaction. When we had success, he was romantic and nurturing in the afterglow. When we failed, he was romantic, nurturing, and sharing of his heart.

"You don't have to miss this. If I can have all the rest of you, someone should give you what I can't. It's the most loving gift I have to offer. I know you'll always love me, even without having good sex. I believe you can have great sex with another man without hurting our love. I even think our sex will be better for doing it."

I wasn't offended like the first time he suggested having other partners because I recognized just how generous and sincere his permission was. We finally talked at length about what such an arrangement entailed. We didn't have an agenda for implementing my freedom and I wasn't ready to actively search for a lover. He wanted me to understand a moment might come from anywhere. If I decided I wanted to follow an impulse, I had no reason to turn back and no need to clear it with him first.

My journey began when I went forth with an open mind. Whether with my husband or alone, I sometimes looked at other men. I asked myself, 'Would I have intercourse with that guy?' I didn't feel anything positive but didn't expect to get vibes from passing strangers either. I doubted I would be choosing from opportunities that never presented themselves before. I was wrong on all counts.

Several following chapters will describe the sexual experiences that changed my life, but at the time, they were only the first steps of my sexual transformation. The initial premise was for only me to receive sexual satisfaction. Jack did not seek the same permission in return because he only sought an occasional handjob. He wouldn't risk the embarrassment of failure with his current twenty-percent successful intercourse rate. Saving what he had left for me seemed necessary to keep us intimately connected. He misjudged our future.

After I began having extra-marital sex and we favorably accepted the changes in our lives, Jack met a woman at our community pool. He immediately recognized the possibility she would engage him in more than handjobs. We discussed our options. I was hesitant, not because I couldn't be as generous as he was, but I feared we would drift in different directions. Trusting that our love would survive anything, I granted him freedom too, completing the process that sexually opened our marriage.

The woman became more than my husband's sex partner, she was a catalyst that changed our sex in ways we never considered. She introduced us to swinging and strap-on sex. After starting slow, I have more partners than I know what to do with. Jack has multiple partners as well, and the boost to his ego has resulted in performance improvements and restored his confidence. He still has erectile dysfunction but it is not detrimental to our pursuits.

Lastly, I gained a new understanding about our relationship by logging all the experiences we shared in our marriage. When it comes down to it, exhibitionism is a form of group sex involving people outside the personal sexual relationship of the performer. After all the things we already did in front of strangers, it wasn't a far stretch to do something with a stranger. Our early tolerance of sexual play with close friends suggests we were predisposed to have an open marriage; we just waited over forty years to practice the lifestyle.



Spreading My Wings Ch. 02



This story series chronicles my initial extra-marital experiences. They began late in 2013 after over forty years in a monogamous marriage. Originally, my husband gave me permission to seek sexual gratification from other partners as a gift of his love; I subsequently gave him freedom to do the same. We now have an open marriage that includes swinging, sharing, and threesomes. I am a mature woman (over sixty) who still enjoys energetic sex. Despite flab, wrinkles, and saggy boobs, I have no problem attracting and satisfying younger partners. These are real life encounters. I don't falsify my appearance or pretend all sex outcomes are perfect, so don't expect porn-like fantasies. 

This chapter is very short because I was too drunk to remember most details and I passed out for several hours.

SandraMustard 2014

*****

She got me drunk and seduced me. 

I had just been given a hall pass, permission to have sex with anybody I felt an impulse to pursue. I intended to use it, but I wasn't actively searching for a partner, so the first impulse belonged to a person who pursued me.

I worked part-time in a store. A female co-worker had some relationship trouble and I helped guide her through it. Twenty-five years older than her, I followed mothering instincts. My advice didn't restore her love interest but helped her deal with her loss and move on. Because I showed that I cared, she wanted to take me out to dinner. Instead of eating a full dinner, we only snacked on one appetizer while downing two drinks apiece. That's all it takes to get me loose and is my usual limit.

We moved to the bar area and had another drink; she soon had a fourth. In the privacy of a booth, she came out to me. I had no idea she was a lesbian. Either I didn't pay close attention when she described her love interest or she deliberately misled me about her gender. I didn't realize my co-worker was testing my reactions with her revealing statements. Her orientation didn't concern me; I still considered her a friend that needed emotional support.

The drinks made me loosely affectionate. I leaned against her when I laughed. When she had a melancholy moment, I covered her hand on the table with mine. To soothe her other times, I hugged her or patted her back. My actions are probably what encouraged her to believe I would be receptive. She begged me to join her for a bottle of wine at her home so we could talk more.

I was bombed by this time and my recollections are quite fuzzy about the details of what transpired the rest of the night. Drinking from tall wine glasses that seemed to empty themselves fast, we sat shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip on a couch big enough for three people. She was more touchy-feely with her hands, holding mine, touching my arm, and once the bare skin of my thigh. I'm sure the increased contact was deliberate but my mind was too numb to recognize her advances.

When I put my wineglass down on the coffee table, she turned to me, her hand pulled my face to hers, and she kissed me. When I let my tongue dance with hers, she was all over me. Her hands cupped my breasts then slid inside my blouse and bra to rub a nipple. She slowly removed my top to free my mounds. Her soft hands and wet mouth worked my chest over. I found my hands holding the warm, soft flesh of her boobs. I can't say I wasn't enjoying the sensations but I don't know if I was getting excited or drunker. I was powerless to do anything but go along.

She forced me back so her hand could go inside my shorts. Her finger gliding into my cleft of Venus created enjoyable sensations. At this point, I know I was getting aroused. I don't remember her undressing me, but suddenly, an experienced wet muscle digging in my naked pussy was driving me crazy. I had her hairless vulva in my face, her mons resting on my chin. I did the only sensible thing I could think of; I licked everything I could reach. I bet I was terrible but I don't know. She was a cunnilingus expert. She ignited orgasm after orgasm with my clit in her mouth.

Too much alcohol and too little blood to my brain caused me to pass out. I don't remember much of the next hour ... or five for that matter. I have vague impressions of bodies and movements. Was that her head hovering over me or someone else? Who was kissing me? What was sliding into my vagina? Did a man join us or did she use a strap-on? I. Don't. Know.

Several hours later, I awoke in her bed, naked. She got up and fetched a fizzing drink for me. Minutes later, we were sitting in robes in her kitchen. I downed two cups of strong coffee while she put cold cloths on my neck. From her concerned inquiries, I think she realized that I had been more incapacitated than willing. I had trouble conveying my muddled thoughts but attempted to put her at ease. Although I never felt curious before and new interests weren't awakened, I wasn't offended by her seduction.

I shouldn't have driven in my condition but I did. Taking back roads, I made it home somehow. I crawled into bed about 2am according to my husband.

I awoke close to noon with a terrible hangover. I was still dressed and on top of the bedspread. When I used the bathroom, I reeked of sex so I took a shower immediately. I used my hangover as an excuse not to talk about that night with my husband. I needed time to sort out my thoughts, but even after time, I didn't figure out everything that happened. Eventually, I told him just getting drunk embarrassed me. He never asked for more details.

I would procrastinate so long before telling my husband exactly what happened, nine months would go by. I figured he knew I was with the woman I said I was meeting. It wasn't supposed to be a sexual encounter so he shouldn't suspect I was hiding something. 

At work, my schedule didn't align with the woman for two weeks. Suddenly, we were advised that she had quit. The storeowner mentioned later that she gave an employment-reference for her in another state. Moving away made it easier for me to ignore my night of indiscretion.



Spreading My Wings Ch. 03



This story series chronicles my initial extra-marital experiences. They began late in 2013 after over forty years in a monogamous marriage. Originally, my husband gave me permission to seek sexual gratification from other partners as a gift of his love; I subsequently gave him freedom to do the same. We now have an open marriage that includes swinging, sharing, and threesomes. I am a mature woman (over sixty) who still enjoys energetic sex. Despite flab, wrinkles, and saggy boobs, I have no problem attracting and satisfying younger partners. These are real life encounters. I don't falsify my appearance or pretend all sex outcomes are perfect, so don't expect porn-like fantasies. 

Grandma gets a happy ending.

SandraMustard 2014

*****

In between my seduction by a lesbian described in the previous chapter and the massage that I describe in this chapter, I had a couple of encounters with a young bike rider I dubbed Captain America for his signature clothing colors. Those encounters with him are perfectly suited for this story series but I've already presented them in a story series dedicated to my ongoing experiences with him. I'm mentioning him here to fill in my timeline concerning my expanding sexual experiences.

Chapters one and two of "The Biker" series describe the encounters we had last November and December. He could have been my first extra-marital lover. I was determined to have sex with him while my husband watched but our sex ended prematurely when he came in my mouth. He proved to be a sprinter; I wanted someone who knew how to pace himself. I wasn't up for teaching a rookie so I passed on Captain America at that time. I saw him numerous times on his bike over the following winter and spring months. He flashed me a few of those times. Once, when we stood on the side of a bike path discussing a wounded snake, he boldly pulled out his own trouser snake to demonstrate how he charms it. I gave it a few tugs for old time's sake but he did the heavy lifting.

Although I fucked Captain America this past summer, it was good that I didn't jump on his cock that second meeting in the conservatory. I wasn't prepared to be responsible for my safety; intercourse would have been bareback. My husband recognized our shortsighted planning and bought condoms for me to always have available. Since then, I carry two in my purse, two in the car, and even two in my bike bag. I was glad to have them when I eventually did the biker.

Half a year had gone by and I was no closer to finding a partner. When I pursued opportunity for some self-indulgent pleasure, I had no idea what path it would lead me down. My husband regularly checks various listings for massage ads. He ignores the hookers and escorts; I have no interest in the rent-a-dick list he showed me once. He keeps an eye out for independent therapists who work at home or do outcall. They advertise sporadically so only vigilance picks them out of the daily rain of ads by regulars. There's a whole language for indicating what services are offered. The legitimate ones are obvious; the edge workers merely claim legitimacy but include trick words. The vast majority of providers are female specializing in servicing men, especially near military bases and resorts. An independent masseur (male) might only pop up two or three times a year.

My husband spotted this Roberto guy (not his real name, of course.) The ad promised customers left 'happy' but that was the only vague wording. He jotted down his number for me even though I've claimed since my one previous massage that I don't like them. I changed my mind, deciding to get a massage several days later. I doubted this masseur would lead to any hard-core sex but maybe some fun and special relaxation. My goal was to play a monger seeking a female happy ending. I had the advantage of learning how the industry works from my husband.

I called and spoke to Roberto. He was busy with many regulars and limited the number of appointments he handled each day. He had an opening later the next day. He sounded business-like so I expected nothing but a massage. I didn't bother telling my husband when I set out for a full day of errands, shopping, and the appointment.

Wearing whitish slacks and sleeveless tee that accentuated his dark tan, Roberto led me to a bedroom set up with a massage table and all the business accoutrements. Soft music floated from unseen sources, scented candles perfumed the air. He left to allow me to disrobe; his instructions mentioned neither clothing nor draping, only to start face down. I felt excited getting naked for the fortyish man but I didn't know his rules with new customers. I pulled the sheet completely over me to give him control the first time.

I didn't hear him approach bare-footed and jumped when he spoke. He apologized then started with his hands just resting on my back to acclimate me to his touch. While he worked my back and arms, he spoke gently to learn my massage experiences and preferences. He settled into a light rubbing that was quite relaxing. The oil he used allowed his fingers to glide across my skin.

The sheet covered up to my waist. I felt his fingers go underneath the sheet and far enough to ascertain I wore no panties. He asked if he could expose my butt to work on my glutes. I told him I wasn't shy. The drape slid lower until it covered just my legs. My muscles were relaxing under his skillful pressures while my nerves were tensing with anticipation. I wondered if he could see my vulva. I felt the sheet slip around on my thighs as he pushed and pulled my body. I hoped he would remove it completely next.

The small of my back and my buttocks are very sensitive; touching me there excites me. I shivered. Pressing down on my rump, causing my hips to rock, he was grinding my sex against the table. His oiled fingers slid deliciously between my cheeks several times; I felt oil trickle across my anus. He worked around to the bottom of my cheeks, running a finger along the crease where they join my thigh. He pushed toward the center and then pulled toward the outside. I felt my labia pull open. Slowly back and forth he worked, seemingly inching closer to my sex each time. The last pushed stopped with his fingertip poking the opposite thigh. I made a little sound and lifted my hips while his finger stayed there, an inch from my vagina.

I almost swore from disappointment when he pulled the sheet up over my back to my shoulders. He folded the bottom up off my legs but left several inches covering below my ass. Starting at my feet, my sexual tension ebbed until he worked up my legs. He stopped at the drape on the first leg but I allowed his pulling on my inner thigh to roll my legs slightly apart. The thought of him looking at my sex made my juices leak out. If he could see me, he would know I was aroused.

Work on the other leg again started at my feet. I waited impatiently for him to work his way up. He mentioned feeling tightness in my hamstring. Using both thumbs with almost painful pressure, he very slowly worked from the back of my knee to my butt under the sheet. His fingers wrapped around the outside and inside of my thigh, once touching my sensitive flesh ... then a second time. The third time he reached the top of my leg, his inner hand was tucked firmly against my labia as his outer hand worked further over my outer hip and pushed the drape off me on that side. Could he feel the heat of my sex? I thought about shifting my body to force his inner hand onto my clit but it moved away.

He pulled the sheet down to cover me completely before having me turn over. He had spent about forty minutes on my backside; with less area to work on, the front took only fifteen. While working my shoulders, he didn't go under the sheet to my breasts. He gently kneaded some of my soft flesh on top and from the sides, but ignored my hard nipples making bumps in the draping and begging for attention. He moved the drape to expose my legs for more quick work. Although the raised sheet extended several inches below my sex, I knew he could see my excited condition from my feet. I had purposely opened my legs to invite him to work up to intimate locations but he didn't.

He covered me completely with the drape. Standing beside me, he asked if he had relaxed all my tensions. The way he said it suggested I had options but his hand was on my forearm instead of the expected under-my-hand, show-me-where-to-rub signal I wanted. He had in fact teased me to a high level of sexual tension. I didn't just want a happy ending, I desperately needed one.

Frustration overcame caution. I yanked the draping off and declared, "You missed some spots!"

When he turned away, a moment of panic about behaving inappropriately swept over me. He grabbed a different bottle of oil, poured some across my breasts, and went to work. I was already excited; I wanted him to go straight to my honey-pot but I submitted to his experienced technique. Dreamy sensations washed through me as I lay naked for this man. As he leaned over me, his groined touched my forearm and I felt his obvious roll of flesh. I pulled my arm up so my hand could touch him just as he backed away.

He moved my legs to bend my knees and spread them as if positioning me for missionary sex. He oiled my inner thighs, my labia, and mons. Fingers reached almost under me, sliding from one cheek across my anus to the other. My hips rose off the table in response. His effleurages toward my vulva focused energy into my sex. When he finally touched my clit, I was moaning and squirming.

A finger slid down and pushed into my vagina, withdrew, and entered again joined by a second digit. I was so ready, I felt there was room for his whole hand. I felt the rush of warmth that signals an orgasm. I tried to disguise my reactions so he wouldn't stop. Maybe he understood women well enough to keep fingering me through my shuddering.

Keeping two fingers inside me, they curled forward to push against my G-spot. His other hand joined in to rub and pinch my clitoris. The double stimulation launched my second orgasm like a rocket. Thrashing and jerking on the table, my moans turned to cries that probably could be heard throughout his house. My climax was incredibly intense and enduring. His fingers fell still; yet, they remained inside me and on my clit as I coasted. He looked up from near my hip to make eye contact. When I finally released a big sigh, he withdrew.

"Wow, Sandy. I can tell you really enjoyed that. It's been my pleasure to help you have release." 

I glanced at his groin and saw his erect state tenting his pants. I tried a Jedi mind-trick to will him into putting it in me but I didn't say it aloud. I hoped my gaze said enough. Instead, he turned and opened a towel warmer in the closet. He used a hot washcloth to clean my chest and then my sex. Such exquisite pleasure I felt, being pampered like a baby. I watched his face as he gently cleaned even my recesses. I noticed he had a slight smile when he looked at my pussy.

"Take your time. Dress when you're ready. I'll get you some water."

I languished on the table for a couple minutes, blissfully floating while I relived the experience. He was a rare find. He was worth returning to for his massage talents alone. The happy ending made choosing him a no-brainer. There was a hint of more. I had barely climbed off the table to dry myself with a towel when he walked back into the room. I dropped the towel and accepted a bottle of water, still naked. He watched me drink then dress.

I wanted to pay him with cash so I could choose my time to tell my husband but I didn't have enough. I knew the happy ending should command a fifty-dollar tip; I could only give thirty. He met my apology with a strange remark. "Thank you, but I would do you for nothing."



Spreading My Wings Ch. 04



This story series chronicles my initial extra-marital experiences. They began late in 2013 after over forty years in a monogamous marriage. Originally, my husband gave me permission to seek sexual gratification from other partners as a gift of his love; I subsequently gave him freedom to do the same. We now have an open marriage that includes swinging, sharing, and threesomes. I am a mature woman (over sixty) who still enjoys energetic sex. Despite flab, wrinkles, and saggy boobs, I have no problem attracting and satisfying younger partners. These are real life encounters. I don't falsify my appearance or pretend all sex outcomes are perfect, so don't expect porn-like fantasies. 

Massage leads to sex with the masseur.

SandraMustard 2014

*****

I didn't get a chance to talk about my first massage with my husband because the next day started four weeks of family staying with us. Being a dedicated procrastinator made it easy for me to forget all about it (telling him, not the massage). Hubby and I had little time to ourselves with all the company. Despite my exhibitionist nature and willingness to fuck in front of strangers, I am shy about making noises when relatives are sleeping in our house. We did try some oral sex but had only one night of successful sex.

When the opportunity to get another massage presented itself, I didn't hesitate. I prepared extensively; I showered, shaved, and trimmed; hell, I even douched but what thought compelled me to do that is unclear. What women do their hair, put on makeup, and wear perfume to a massage? Vain ones? Horny ones?

Roberto hugged me at the door. His embrace was more than friendly with full body contact. He commented that I smelled 'delicious' as he nuzzled my neck. When I climbed on the table naked, I only partially unfolded the sheet and left it draped in a band across my ass. When Roberto entered the room, he asked before beginning the massage if I needed draping at all. I said I would be comfortable nude so he removed it.

He went right to work and I sensed haste. His movements weren't faster and he skipped nothing, but he spent less time than before on most areas. He spent extra time on my ass, though, and did more to it. He started out as before, kneading, pushing, and circling. With my legs spread immodestly, he had plenty of room between my legs and cheeks. He slathered oil down my crack, his fingers doing a wiggle every time they crossed my anus. They pushed further, across my perineum, and into my vagina. Effleurages along my cheek-thigh boundary turned down along my labia, reaching my clit. The pace of his hand movements increased, rising to a flurry of slides, pokes, and squeezes. He had me heading for an early climax when, suddenly, he stopped with all his fingers inside me. The abrupt lack of stimulation was like falling off a cliff.

He pulled away to start massaging my legs. Once again, his hands worked with the familiarity of an intimate partner. He made long movements up to and into my sex to keep my passion bubbling. He gave me several shots of heavy stimulation, but just when I threatened to boil over, he took away the flame. The edging was driving me crazy.

On the flip, he started with a delightful nipple massage then sped quickly through leg work that felt like he was shooting rockets into my sex. The barrage stopped yet again to allow him to maneuver for the big 'O'. He pulled one leg up and hooked it around his hips so that I was spread into a crazy can-opener position. Two oiled hands dove into my sex and began working his magic.

I felt the fabric of his pants against my hand as his groin leaned into me again. I slid my fingers sideways, searching for his erection. They pushed through his already-open zipper, encountering pubic hair and his tumescent tool. He turned his hips so I could curl my thumb and fingers around his cock but all I could do was hold on. His fingers had brought me to the top of the world for my first orgasm.

I was floating on clouds of bliss when I felt him pull away. In a moment, he was standing at my feet, an oiled hand on each ankle. As they slowly slid up my legs, his body leaned forward. His hands passed over my hips, inching toward my breasts, until he settled on top of me. His naked chest pushed my knees apart and my legs hugged his sides. When my feet pressed against his naked hips, I realized he had removed all his clothing. He brought his hands back to my vulva so he could spread my labia. I felt his hot breath before a wicked tongue was using my clit for a punching bag.

I orgasm very quickly and repeatedly during cunnilingus. I can go from oh to oh-my-god in sixty seconds. If I don't slow down in between reprises, I lose track of time and purpose. Without sense of how many times I exploded, I didn't care what he did. A voice longing for fulfillment called out, "Please take me. I want to be fucked. I need your cock in me."

He rose off me and stepped away from the table for a moment. When he returned, he leaned over me, put my legs over his shoulders, and holding them against his chest with an arm, straightened up. His move dragged my body to the end of the table. I felt his blood-bloated member plop against my sensitive labia, then surge into me. One push filled me to the hilt. The feeling of a penis sliding in my vagina is the most wonderful feeling I know. I reveled in the passion filling my body with fire. I had no regret about letting this talented man enter as only my husband had before.

I had no goal left to achieve. I let him have me totally. I know my G-spot is what gives me vaginal orgasms and they are special for me as well as my partner. He gave me two glorious rides before he backed himself out. After watching him pull off his condom, I saw his heavy member smack down on my mons and begin squirting warm semen on my pubes. My hand reached for him and caressed his pulsing cock.

Roberto let me shower in his personal bathroom. He was waiting for me in the living room after I finished and dressed. His questions about how I felt proved he was worried that I had regrets because he knew little about my personal life or intentions. The wedding ring I wore caused his greatest concern. I told him I have my husband's permission to enjoy sex with other men. I promised to give him the whole story the next time we met. I wanted to know about his life too. What drew him to be intimate with an old woman like me?

When I held out cash to pay him, he shook his head and pushed my hand away. "No, please. I told you I can't take your money. I don't want you to even offer it. I'll explain next time."

My husband wasn't home when I returned. I was so tired that I took a nap. I awoke to a prepared supper. I developed a mental block to admitting I just fulfilled my quest for a sexual partner. Something about doing it without involving him in the planning worried me. Sure, I didn't plan to have sex and the opportunity came out of nowhere as he thought it might. Yet I should have warned him of the possibility because of the first encounter.

I wish I didn't have to admit that days passed and still, I didn't mention having sex to my husband. I had his permission, so why was I afraid to share my experience? I was surprised how easy it had been to let another man fuck me, proceeding without hesitation, feeling no regret afterward. What was significantly harder than I imagined was telling the man I had honored for so long.



Spreading My Wings Ch. 05



This story series chronicles my initial extra-marital experiences. They began late in 2013 after over forty years in a monogamous marriage. Originally, my husband gave me permission to seek sexual gratification from other partners as a gift of his love; I subsequently gave him freedom to do the same. We now have an open marriage that includes swinging, sharing, and threesomes. I am a mature woman (over sixty) who still enjoys energetic sex. Despite flab, wrinkles, and saggy boobs, I have no problem attracting and satisfying younger partners. These are real life encounters. I don't falsify my appearance or pretend all sex outcomes are perfect, so don't expect porn-like fantasies. 

SandraMustard 2014

*****

Roberto works me over.

Yet again, I refrained from telling my husband about what I was doing. Once I held several different experiences in secrecy, especially intercourse, finding the words to begin admitting my activities seemed impossible. Yet, I found it difficult to accept anything as plausible justification for my reticence. He told me, 'Go fuck another man.' Why couldn't I say, 'I did what you said I should.'

When I spotted a thread in Literotica's Fetish & Sexuality Central forum about secrets kept from spouses, I couldn't pass on the opportunity to unload a little guilt. My experiences wouldn't be secrets from Jack if I posted them under my own username so I created an alt. The Lit-confession helped lead directly to an admission to hubby, but not before I visited Roberto a third time.

I had finally made up my mind to tell my husband about what really happened with my co-worker and then the massages and sex with my masseur. I envisioned a full day of romantic, Fourth of July activities to set his mood; maybe we'd get lucky, too. Instead, he got a call and left to help a friend with emergency repairs at a condominium he rented out to vacationers. Jack was right to go help a friend in need but a four-five hour job sixty miles away ruined my plans.

Ironically, I had been beaten up in high surf a few days earlier and I complained of stiffness to Jack. Hubby suggested a massage while he was gone would make me feel better; he even asked if I had the number for 'that guy I found' (meaning Roberto). He had no idea what he was sending me out to do. I almost passed on the opportunity because of the weirdness-factor.

Eventually, I called Roberto, and at first, he said he wasn't working on the holiday. I went through the usual steps to book an appointment for the next day. When I gave my name, he changed his mind and offered to see me right away. I was nervous about what we were going to do, but honestly, I looked forward more to fucking than getting a massage.

I showered and got to his house in thirty minutes. Feeling chilled by the contrast of the air-conditioned room after the sweltering heat of outdoors, I got under the draping sheet. My decision may have confused Roberto about my reactions to having sex during my last appointment. He began with professional techniques and kept me draped for modesty more so than my first two visits. His skilled massage focused on my body trauma, lasting the full scheduled hour and providing remarkable muscular relief.

We talked extensively during the massage. I was very candid about my personal life and the conditions of my sexual freedom. He was surprised to learn he was my first masseur and my first extra-marital lover at my age. Being a married woman with permission to play did not make me unique among his clients, but Roberto made it clear that he had tremendous respect for my husband's selfless generosity.

I tried to learn all about him but he guarded his personal life like a poker player. I did learn some obvious background about his occupation and willingness to please ladies. He has been a licensed therapist since he was 20. He began working in strict spas but was seduced by the money he could make as an independent. After he setup his therapy business in his home, he succumbed to demands for sensual services when rich ladies waved cash at him. He didn't advertise about the extras but word of mouth and bold requests (like mine) made happy endings a common conclusion to his sought-after massages.

Only at the end of the hour did my massage turn sensual. My torso remained covered when his hands began working my breasts under the sheet. Work on my inner thighs included full contact with my labia and a few slides across my clitoris. The finale was a nimble finger dancing on my clit that resulted in a fast ride up to one ordinary happy ending. I decided to accept what I got and appreciate his attention when it should have been his time off.

Instead of telling me to get dressed, he helped me rise from the table, and then led me by the hand naked across the hall to his large bathroom. He started a shower running, and while waiting for the water to get hot, he opened his medicine cabinet. I saw the familiar diamond-shaped, blue pill he took and realized he had big plans for me.

During our first sexual contact, I rarely opened my eyes to look at him, instead concentrating on the stimulations of his hands, mouth, and cock. It had been all about my body, my orgasm. As I prepared to have more sex with him, I studied my human sex toy, wanting to be mentally aware of my partner this time.

He faced me when he removed his clothes. Roberto is just shy of forty, almost twenty-five years my junior. He's had a few too many beers as most middle-aged men have but he remains a virile specimen with a nice looking flaccid cock hanging between muscular legs.

I was eager to show a little aggression. After he washed my entire body including my vulva to get the massage oils off me, I reciprocated by washing his whole body. I knelt in front of him so I could pay particular attention to his manhood that swelled and stiffened as I soaped him with two hands. When I leaned out of the way to allow the shower to rinse off his cock, his slender hips danced in the rain.

His circumcised penis stood invitingly before my face; his bullet-shaped glans and thin shaft rising out of short pubes on his flat groin made him look longer than six inches. More than touching his manhood, more than seeing it, I felt an urge to taste him. I grabbed his teetering tower and guided it through my lips to where my waiting tongue could cradle his head and begin caressing him.

Forcing my head down until my lips and nose buried themselves in his pubes, his smallish head slid down my throat with little discomfort. He gave out a guttural moan as I held him deep and then slowly pulled back. His reaction inspired me to take him deep again. I felt him tense and heard him hold his breath. His size didn't choke me and I was able to throat him for nearly fifteen seconds as my tongue tip wiggled under the base of his shaft.

Before I could develop a blowjob rhythm, his hands reached around my ribs and began lifting my lower body. His gentle guidance changed my position so that I was standing, bent at the waist, with his penis still buried in my mouth. Pivoting my body to one side allowed his hand to reach over my backside where his fingers could enter me. His experienced probing found my G-spot and our stimulation of each other became intense. I wondered how soon he'd be ready to go again if he came in my mouth but I decided to let him direct our action.

Salty pre-cum alerted me to his impending eruption as I began chaining my own intensifying climaxes. His free hand was shuttling among several efforts. He massaged my lumbar, reached around my far side to cup my breast and tweak the nipple, and then finally onto the back of my head to encourage it down on his cock. My own hands weren't idle. I slid one around behind him where my fingertip could rest on his anus; my other hand cupped his balls. He spewed grunts and groans as I bobbed my head and mewed.

Just as I reached an orgasmic peak, he pushed my head down. His cock slid into my throat where my moan of bliss vibrated on his glans. I pushed my finger deep into his ass and squeezed his testicles. A long gasp of pleasure sounded above me. My head pulled up just as his hips started jerking and his cock spurted thick semen in my mouth. I swallowed it all and licked him clean.

After his orgasm ceased, he leaned against the wall. Sensing I was too weak, his arms helped me straighten and then hugged me against his body. After our panting breaths quieted, leaving only the splash of the shower cascade hitting the stall floor, he gave me the greatest compliment I could have received. "Wow, Sandy, that was one of the best blowjobs I have ever received." As a woman who once considered her fellatio technique seriously deficient, hearing such praise made me glow with pride.

He led me to his bedroom. Pulling back the bedding, he directed me to lie in the center of the bed. Instead of sliding in next to me, he walked to the foot of the bed. The sight of a naked man crawling up to my exposed sex made my legs submissively spread open for him. He settled on his stomach between my legs, his head hovering over my pussy, and his arms folded over my legs so that his hands could manipulate my sensitive flesh. 

Roberto gave me an intimate exam. He spoke in medical terms, naming the parts of my vulva as his fingers separated, pushed, tugged, and rubbed. Speaking so close to my sex, his breath and the sound waves of his voice tickled my clitoris. Recent, multiple orgasms made my folds loose and pliable and they tingled when he pulled them apart so he could huff on my clit. Anxious for his tongue to join the fray, I trembled with anticipation. When he stopped talking, I watched his mouth disappear behind my mons; suddenly, all heaven broke loose.

I almost fear receiving cunnilingus because it makes me so submissive. His tireless tongue took liberties with my sex for thirty minutes, producing uncountable orgasms. When he stopped and got up, my eyes opened to perceive the room in a dreamy haze. I watched him take a condom from a nightstand drawer and roll it onto his once again, erect cock.

He came up over me, paused to guide his penis into my gaping opening, and settled on top of me. I wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms around his back. His powerful thrusts rocked my body; my vagina clung to his sliding member like a finger-puzzle, allowing entry but resisting exit. He fucked me through several vaginal orgasms until he came while inside me. The condom prevented feeling the wet gush of his discharge, but his body convulsions and vocal cords clearly registered his orgasm. 

An extended repose while our energies recharged allowed me to interrogate my partner further. Other intermissions later would add to my knowledge of his background. Based on our relationship becoming deeply intimate, he felt comfortable giving frank answers.

A high percentage of his clientele are older widows and that suits his business. Demographics of the year-round residents contribute to a steady customer base that is religious in adherence to routine. He claimed fewer than half of his customers know about his sensual talents. Only a handful of them receive treatments beyond happy endings. His spa harem is largely geriatric; there's no drama involved and the kindly ladies contribute significant gratuities for his attention. Of the clients who seek his sensual attention, most are either widowed or have sex-dead spouses. He knows that a few married women hide their status, pretending to be divorced, separated, or widowed, but it doesn't matter to him.

Evidently, he liked granny-types. Was I just another well-worn saddle to ride? He insisted I was special from the moment he saw me. Through some fateful coincidence, I reminded him so strongly of an aunt of his that took his virginity, that he could not resist reliving his youth through my resemblance. He also declared that the energy of my orgasms enthralled him. Because I allowed him to pursue his fantasies and I was such a passionate partner, he didn't want me to pay for his sexual services. Our sex wasn't a business transaction; it was personal.

He felt compassion for my husband and his failures, recognizing incredible generosity in the freedom my spouse gives me to enjoy sex. Roberto feels privileged to provide the joy and satisfaction that I seek. When he effused so much praise for the permission I had, I sadly explained my current reluctance to admit my experiences to my husband. Roberto encouraged me to bring everything into the open; such a giving man deserved to know his gift was appreciated was his advice. He didn't want to feel he was seeing me behind my husband's back.

We relived his passion several more times that afternoon. His cock sprang to life again and again. An episode of sixty-nine led to another fuck with me on top. Following a short rest, he gave me a tender massage of my back and legs. When he entered me again, this time doggie style, his forceful thrusts pinned me down. He made some movements before I felt warm oil running down my crack. He pulled out of my vagina and forced his way thru my anus. I've only had anal twice before and didn't like it; my husband's thick cock caused me pain. Roberto's thinner penis caused less discomfort. I didn't feel any arousal but I let him go until he shot the last of his cum while inside my ass.

When I finally left, I noticed three used condoms lying on the floor like tick marks on a scorecard. Was I just an accomplishment for him? Was he using me to indulge himself? Perhaps he was, but using him was my purpose from the beginning so I had no reason to complain. His generous gift of free massages and extended sex activities said I was more than a lady in his harem.

I walked out more stiffly than I came in but intensely satisfied. At home, I had just enough time to shower and make dinner. My husband was tired and we watched an old movie before we retired. He slept soundly while I spent most of the night wrestling with thoughts that prepared me to discuss the past with my husband.



Spreading My Wings Ch. 06



[ This story series chronicles my initial extra-marital experiences. They began late in 2013 after over forty years in a monogamous marriage. Originally, my husband gave me permission to seek sexual gratification from other partners as a gift of his love; I subsequently gave him freedom to do the same. We now have an open marriage that includes swinging, sharing, and threesomes. I am a mature woman (over sixty) who still enjoys energetic sex. Despite flab, wrinkles, and saggy boobs, I have no problem attracting and satisfying younger partners. These are real life encounters. I don't falsify my appearance or pretend all sex outcomes are perfect, so don't expect porn-like fantasies. 

Spreading My Wings Ch. 06 - Admissions to my husband.

© SandraMustard 2014 ]

The very next morning, my emotional logjam broke free. I was sitting on the couch, screwing up the courage to speak out (if you knew my personality, that statement would amuse you). I was lost in thought, failing to notice my husband come sit next to me until he turned off the TV.

"You've got something on your mind. It's been eating you up. Come on, Sandy, let's talk about it already."

Silence was impossible now. Revealing the truth was the only course to follow. "I've done what you said I should. I let things happen. But I've been so afraid to tell you. I don't know why."

"I've suspected as much. I understand why you've hesitated quite well. You're afraid to hurt me but it's not going to be like that. Getting everything out in the open is going to be a big relief for me, too."

I decided to start by telling him about my co-worker. It was my oldest secret and I felt it would be the least threatening. "Remember when I had dinner last year with Cathy from work?"

"The young newlywed with the rowdy husband?"

"No, Cathy was ... single, middle-aged with dark hair. I introduced you to her once." He nodded politely but I think he really didn't recall. When I described the events at the restaurant, the heavy drinking (heavy by my standards), and the revelations she made in confidence, my husband's surprise was evident.

"Was she just confiding in you or was she checking what your orientation might be?"

"I think just confiding but I acted so giddy, you know how I get. I held her hand. I leaned against her when I laughed. She was very touchy-feely. When I hugged her to soothe a tearful moment, she held me tightly. Her hand cupped my breast, not just touched it, but held it. When I didn't object, I guess she thought it was a 'go' signal. Really, I was too drunk to react. She invited me to her house for some really good wine."

"So you went to her house to have sex with her?"

"No, to drink wine! If I was sober, I probably would have recognized what she was up to but the drinking made me too relaxed to worry." I told him what I could remember of the sex, waking up naked, struggling to get home; he listened with his mouth agape.

"Well, I'll be damned. I have to admit, I thought you had sex with a man. You acted disturbed by something and smelled of sex so I assumed you did. I came to grips with the idea that you did. Even as you told me about it just now, I was waiting to hear about a man coming into the picture somehow."

I described my vague impression of someone fucking me but I was careful to explain I had no clear knowledge of what happened or if anything really did.

"Well, I think you should try it again to see if you like it. I had no idea you might be bi."

I was almost angry. "I'm not bi. I've never been curious. Woman - woman sex doesn't excite me. She took advantage of me when I was drunk."

"You said you went along with her. She didn't force you to eat her pussy. You had some sort of willingness to participate. If you objected, even drunk, you would have fought off her advances." He had a point but I wasn't ready to concede there might be another experiment. With a devilish grin, he added, "The way you have a fascination for my ass, I better be careful when we drink. You're liable to fuck me with a strap-on."

I blushed heavily at his remark. The idea had never occurred to me before. Suddenly, I couldn't shake the mental image of holding his hips and driving into him. I changed the subject quickly. "I did get a massage from Roberto yesterday for the soreness I had. Now I know how wonderful a good massage makes you feel." I paused before I blurted, "Sweetheart, he gave me a happy ending the first time."

"First time? You mean yesterday wasn't the first time?"

"No. It was the third."

His short answer, "Oh," was heavy with resignation. He sensed the other visits weren't just more of the same. He heaved a troubled breath.

I didn't torture him with waiting or overwhelm him with details. I held his hand, looked into his eyes with all the love I felt, and spoke solemnly. "I've been intimate with him."

His mouth started to quiver. His eyes filled with tears. He bowed his head and his shoulders started shaking. Sobs gave way to the anguished cry of a man torn apart by sorrow. The man I loved all my life was breaking into pieces in front of me. The pain ripped at my heart. "Darlin', please don't cry like this. I can't go on living knowing I've hurt you this bad."

"No... No, babe, you didn't hurt me. I'm not upset that it's happened. I'm relieved that we've discovered a solution that brings you the pleasure you deserve. You have only now accepted your needs are significant and you can satisfy them. I accepted that long ago. The fact that my body is failing me, preventing me from giving you that pleasure, is what hurts so bad. I'm grateful we can live out the rest of our lives together and feel loved. Sex used to be the heart of everything we were. Now it's just a brief physical activity separate from our emotions."

We talked almost constantly, for three days straight. He repeatedly assured me he accepted my sexual experiences with Roberto. He feels my freedom and our future sexual relationship can coexist. He is not jealous of Roberto or other men that might be in my future. He believes we have opened the doors to a new life for our future.

My husband is striving to recover his health. He is losing weight, down seventy pounds from his zenith. Determined to continue the fight, his goal is to shed another hundred pounds. Yes, he was/is that heavy. The truth is embarrassing for him, but it fuels his resolve. Doctors believe ending his obesity will eliminate most of his health issues. His blood sugar won't be near diabetic levels. He will stop taking most of the drugs that might be causing his dysfunction. There is promise of renewed energy to perform. Maybe some problems are permanent. Maybe new issues will arise in the future. At least, a proactive approach gives him hope.

My attitudes about sexual fidelity have changed. We share everything to some degree with the people in the world around us. Love is the emotion that binds a husband and wife in matrimony. The strength of our bond has always been especially strong. I love my husband. He loves me so thoroughly that he places my satisfaction above his pride. He is receiving affection tenfold in return.



Spreading My Wings Ch. 07



This story series chronicles my initial extra-marital experiences. They began late in 2013 after over forty years in a monogamous marriage. Originally, my husband gave me permission to seek sexual gratification from other partners as a gift of his love; I subsequently gave him freedom to do the same. We now have an open marriage that includes swinging, sharing, and threesomes. I am a mature woman (over sixty) who still enjoys energetic sex. Despite flab, wrinkles, and saggy boobs, I have no problem attracting and satisfying younger partners. These are real life encounters. I don't falsify my appearance or pretend all sex outcomes are perfect, so don't expect porn-like fantasies.

I apologize to readers in the Group Sex category who find this seventh chapter is their first exposure to the series. Previous activities supported beginning elsewhere; the current encounter belongs here.

SandraMustard 2014

*****

A surprise visitor shows up at my massage. 

My freedom was now complete. I had freedom to continue having sex with my husband's knowledge and blessings, plus freedom from the nag of my conscience. Having outed our marital changes on Literotica's forums, I could tell people about what I was doing, too. I learned I had to be careful which Facebook account I used, what email address originated messages, what phone contact I texted, even what I said to my kids.

My daughter offered to visit with her kids because I would be home without a car. I told her, "I won't be home. I'm riding my bike to the craft stores and I have a massage appointment."

"A what appointment?"

I thought fast. "A manicure. You know, get my nails done."

"You said massage."

"Yeah, right. Like I'd get one of those."

"You should sometime. You might enjoy it."

I nearly broke out in laughter. I ended our call before I made a serious blunder with seeing Roberto on my mind.

I was planning a whole day of shopping (browsing really) with two specific craft stores on my itinerary that were within three blocks of Roberto. I had mentioned to my husband that I might put a massage on my to-do-list. Having come to grips with the reality of my sexual outings, he encouraged me to continue seeking my pleasures. He wanted to know what I did and how I felt, to share the knowledge of my activities as a voyeur much like I enjoyed hearing his tales of exhibitionism.

Jack had his own set of plans that would use the car all day so I would be traveling by bicycle. The stores and Roberto were about four miles from home but that presented only a minor problem as I often cover twenty-five miles on our bike-path rides. When I made my appointment with Roberto the day before, I mentioned my mode of transportation and that I would need a shower to freshen up before the massage.

Hubby left that morning an hour before I did. I spent two hours at the craft stores before I arrived for my appointment. He had his private bathroom set up for my use, complete with a flowery body wash to replace his masculine preference. When I entered the massage room, Roberto was sitting in a chair texting on his phone. He sent his missive on its way then put his phone down on a nearby shelf.

I dropped my towel over his chair when he stood up, leaving me naked within inches of him. I reached out to hug him while exchanging greetings that my sweaty-self had avoided earlier. He held me in an embrace after the hug and kissed me. Our lips had never met before so it turned into sixty seconds of exploration.

As I climbed naked onto the table, I settled on top of the drape sheet. I pointed out to Roberto that my hug had left two wet circles on his shirt. A quick yank over his head removed the garment. Encouraged by his response, I told him my hips had dampened the front of his pants as well. In two seconds, he was naked. I felt a rush of excitement seeing his dangling cock.

He began with a thorough, almost measured massage. If he was pacing himself, he became stalled in one location, my ass and thighs. His oiled hands went all over me and into every orifice. He had me moaning long before the flip. I swiveled my head to keep track of the penis moving around me. I made use of several chances to grab the tiger by the tail.

When he had multiple fingers working my G-spot toward early ignition and my hand curled tightly around his rock hard member, I questioned his schedule. "You've got me so hot, I might not be able to wait to turn over."

His phone twittered before he answered, "We have no reason to wait."

He lifted my legs and pulled my body to the end of the table. Bent at the waist, my legs hanging off the end didn't reach the floor. Looking over my shoulder, I watched him open a condom and roll it on. His oiled hands created a friction-less rod that drove full length into me on a single thrust. I don't know if he or I grunted loudest. Full in is where he stayed.

His groin rested against my ass-cheeks. Swollen man-flesh was filling my vagina, while his hands did effleurages on my lower back. I felt compelled to perform my Kegel exercises on him. He began to rock to my squeezes. Rocking became sliding. Sliding became slamming. His hard cock hit the spot. Yeah, that spot. I shrieked and cried with the force of my orgasm.

"More?" he asked while continuing to rock.

"Don't stop," I begged.

I was feeling awesome, his strong cock pounding into me. The next orgasm began to build its unstoppable momentum. My fists clenched the sheets to hold on as the O-waves hit.

I heard the rattle of the doorknob. I turned my head toward the door while Roberto slammed his cock harder into my gushing sex. I could barely register in my brain that my husband, Jack was walking into the room. Beyond the point of no return, my climax ruled the next minute. My husband made no sound while he watched me come. Roberto was not afraid to keep fucking me with what should have been to him a strange man or possibly an upset spouse looking on.

When I could form words, I gasped, "Jack, what are you doing here?"

"I worked it out with Roberto to watch. He texted me when to come. He is a great guy, Babe. He cares about helping you and me. I couldn't find a better man for you if I tried."

He paused to watch my body jerk rhythmically . Roberto was doing slow thrusts to keep my engine running. "I love seeing you come. Your face glows like an angel. I wanted to see you come again."

As if queued to take a race car for another lap, Roberto increased his tempo. I stretched my arm toward Jack and he stepped to my side. I had looked at his groin as he moved and saw excitement pressing out. Desire to love my husband equally filled my heart. I tugged his shorts down. Jack finished removing them and his shirt. My hand pulled his cock toward me as I slid to the side of the table to meet him. Instantly, his familiar taste was on my tongue. I had two cocks in me in a threesome I never anticipated experiencing. I was enjoying the double attention.

Jack was getting hard. I wondered if he would cum in my mouth or wanted to try my pussy. The answer came from Roberto. His cries and grunts indicated he came, unable to hold back or purposely popping his cork early. He pulled out and spoke. "She's all yours, Jack. Take 'er for a spin." They reversed positions and the tag-team fucking continued.

Jack held firm, sliding into my well lubed cavity. Roberto pulled off his condom and offered it to my mouth. I began sucking to clean his cum, but my awareness focused on my lover being the stud of old. Unlike the oiled, sheathed cock that had filled me but provided no tactile sensations, Jack's skin rubbed on my interior walls. The feeling is an ultra-personal contact that I realized I could discern. He's thick too, fatter than Roberto, and average-length enough to please any woman when he can stiff it out.

Roberto accepted a supporting role, getting erect despite my distracted mouthings, but never near another orgasm. Meanwhile, my husband was fucking me royal. From years of experience, we melded our bliss into a single orgasm. Oh, glorious day, it was heavenly to feel his wetness pouring against my womb!

Roberto stepped away when Jack rested on top of me. We shared romantic afterglow for several minutes. When Jack got up, Roberto was there with moist, hot towels to clean up. After a short rest, Roberto offered to complete the contracted massage.

With him on one side, and Jack on the other, they provided an exquisite four-hand massage. Hey, my husband is no slouch. I would bet any lady would pay for his services (happy endings extra of course). After thirty minutes of genuine massaging, they both teased my clit until I wanted another vagina treatment.

Lying naked between two naked men who were working over my body, I grabbed both of their cocks. Only Roberto was ready to please me again. I didn't feel strange about telling him to fuck me with Jack there. Everything seemed natural and exciting. Already, we were comfortable with group sex.

Roberto put on a condom and then pulled my body to the end of the table. I glanced at my husband; he was watching Roberto intently. Roberto lifted my legs to his shoulders then grabbed the base of his cock and slapped the glans down on my pubes. His hips drew back, pulling his cockhead down through my slit, where he paused to swirl the tip around my clit like a swordsman.

With my legs lifted high tilting my hips, I could see my inner labia folded open, wet with arousal, creating a slick trough for him to follow to my waiting vagina. As his penis started to push into me, I turned to watch Jack's reactions just in time to see a smile break out. His penis was still in my hand and I felt it stir; I began to caress his manhood.

I watched his facial reactions, evidence enough that he truly enjoyed observing me having sex with someone else. I experienced a new form of exhibitionism, fucking expressly for his voyeuristic pleasure. Roberto's cock was catching my G-spot. Jack and I locked eyes as the first earth-moving orgasm raged through my body.

"That's it, Babe, ride that hard cock!" my husband encouraged.

I moaned and cried as my body convulsed. When my passion began to ebb, Roberto slowed his pace for ten seconds and then began pounding me with renewed vigor. Jack's cock had stiffened fully erect during my climax so I pulled it to my lips. My fellatio eventually drew some pre-cum but I lost my concentration when my second orgasm blossomed and he never ejaculated.

Roberto did, though. His thrusting escalated through my orgasm. He leaned over me and drove deep, grunting with his effort. Throwing his head back, he growled with primordial ecstasy as he held still his pulsing manhood inside me.

We shared a brief afterglow moment before he pulled his cream-filled balloon out of me. With apologies, he stated that he needed to recover and prepare for an afternoon appointment. We had ample time to clean up. He directed Jack and me to use his master bathroom to shower. Roberto used another bathroom in the house to shower at the same time. Before parting, he shook hands with Jack, and gave me a hug and kiss. He said he looked forward to having us visit again.



Spreading My Wings Ch. 08



This story series chronicles my initial extra-marital experiences. They began late in 2013 after over forty years in a monogamous marriage. Originally, my husband gave me permission to seek sexual gratification from other partners as a gift of his love; I subsequently gave him freedom to do the same. We now have an open marriage that includes swinging, sharing, and threesomes. I am a mature woman (over sixty) who still enjoys energetic sex. Despite flab, wrinkles, and saggy boobs, I have no problem attracting and satisfying younger partners. These are real life encounters. I don't falsify my appearance or pretend all sex outcomes are perfect, so don't expect porn-like fantasies. 

Spreading My Wings Ch. 08 - Behind my husband's back.

No, this isn't about doing unfaithful things without his knowledge. The meaning of my pun will become clear in the end as this chapter explains what led up to my involvement in another story: "New Game in Town - Ch. 03".

Warning: If you dislike reading about sexually aggressive women taking charge during sex and using a strap-on to enter a man anally, this chapter might not be for you.

SandraMustard 2014

*****

The first chapter in this series covered over four decades of our marriage to show why my husband felt it was necessary to change our sexual relationship. We solved many other problems first and rebuilt our marriage until only his sexual-performance hurdle remained. In long, heartfelt discussions with my husband, we examined our options and weighed the consequences of each. We made no decisions in haste; we took no actions immediately.

Jack gave me permission without requesting a reciprocative arrangement for himself. With his condition, he never figured to have the wherewithal to have sex with another woman. When I finally had sex with another man, we seemed to achieve our singular goal. Yet, instead of being the end we expected, it actually became the beginning of many more changes than we anticipated.

My husband was pleased to know I was once again enjoying the kind of passion he once provided. Part of his sexual enjoyment always involved watching me orgasm. He wanted to watch me have sex with Roberto and discovered Roberto was comfortable with his presence, probably experienced with that too. We had never seriously discussed threesomes before yet the situation developed into our first such encounter without planning.

The new titillation of group sex proved to be powerful medicine for Jack's libido, thus paving the way for other experimentations. Instead of wanting to avoid failure, he was willing to take risks to discover new successes. Rather than selfishly demanding all his diminished passion for myself, I granted him permission to pursue other partners. Experience had already taught us that sharing partners increases what is available in return.

Jack met Cindy as a neighbor first. She and her husband, Dave were temporary renters in the same complex where we lived. Their poolside encounters were immediately full of flirtations and sexual innuendoes even before Jack discovered that the former Atlanta natives were licensed massage therapists setting up a new business in town.

Jack enjoyed massages with happy endings so he was eager to sample Cindy's therapy, hoping to receive a sexual release from her, too. He was unaware that Dave and Cindy had made a living for twenty-five years providing sexual 'extras' to regular customers. His first massage with her was off-the-books and exceptionally personal in nature with mutual oral sex.

My husband came home from that massage with a Cheshire grin, eager to share the details of his accomplished sex act. He was realistic about Cindy's willingness to have sex with him being a service she offered to a number of customers, not just him; yet, he judged her desire and arousal as a genuine result of her sexual attraction to him. I confirmed that he had my blessings to take their relationship as far as he could. More than that, as we talked, I was already thinking about making sure he fucked her.

Based on what she already did with Jack, I didn't have any qualms about approaching Cindy myself to see what I could arrange. Once before in Hawaii, I asked a willing maid to get naked and masturbate with my husband (everything I wrote about in my "Meeting Leilani" story is true except having sex with her after they masturbated.) The operative word was willing; l perceived Leilani would be receptive to my request because she enjoyed seeing my husband naked. I had strong evidence that indicated Cindy would be interested, too.

The following weekend, Jack went to a local sports bar with a friend while I planned to take in some sun on the beach. Passing the community pool, I spotted Cindy inside so I seized the opportunity to meet her without my husband's knowledge. Although I had reason to believe her husband facilitated her sexual activities, I waited almost an hour to approach her when she swam alone.

"Hi. You're Cindy, aren't you?"

She acknowledged she was with a wordless nod. I saw her eyes glance beyond me to where her husband sat in a deck chair. Her arms folded in front of her chest in a defensive posture.

I couldn't blurt out my purpose as I did with Leilani who knew my disposition because she had just left our room and my naked husband. I would work to put Cindy at ease. "My husband speaks very well of the massage you gave him."

"Well, thank him for the compliment. I've been in licensed practice for twenty-seven years. I strive to make my customers happy." Cindy was being cautious when first meeting a customer's spouse as experience in her business had taught her. She made the point about her license to keep up appearances of legitimacy.

I wanted to let her know I was aware of everything. "He left happy, alright. He said your hands were great but your mouth was wonderful."

One last denial hedged against possible reprisal from me. "I don't know what you're implying but let me assure you, I ..."

I cut her off. "I didn't imply anything. I repeated exactly what my husband told me about the blowjob you gave him. You can quit worrying about what I'm after because I'll tell you. My husband hopes to have more than oral sex with you and I'm here to see if I can help make that happen."

At the word, 'blowjob', Cindy's eyes had darted to another woman nearby, and then glanced around at the weekend crowd before she answered in a hushed voice. "Here is not a good place to be having this discussion. I'm not saying anything yet until I hear more from you. Let's go to my place and have a beer or something."

"I'm fine with going with you except I don't like beer and it's too early for hard stuff. I'll just have ice water, thank you."

"Yeah, sure. Let me send my husband ahead to tidy up for company." Cindy had a short conversation with Dave before he gathered his things and dragged his wheeled cooler out the gate. When I saw him take the large supply of beer back to their unit, I felt bad about cutting short their plans for a daylong outing at the pool. She brought her towel and cover-up to where I had my belongings and sat down. While she puffed away on a cigarette, we chatted about living at the complex. When she finished her smoke, she indicated she had given her husband enough time so we left.

Dave entered a bedroom and closed the door when we arrived. When we settled in the living room to talk, Cindy set the opening agenda. "We can talk freely now. My husband can't hear us and won't invade our privacy. Since I don't know anything about you, I won't talk about myself until I feel comfortable about where you're coming from."

"I'm Sandy. My husband is Jack, the big guy with long hair and full beard. We've been married for over forty years. Neither of us have ever had sex with anyone else until this year. Jack has had ED problems for over ten years. That and several other problems almost ended our marriage. We've worked things out and now we're closer than ever but his ED gets in the way of satisfying sex. We communicate honestly and he is such a generous person and conscientious lover that he gave me permission to have sex with other men rather than deny me the pleasures he has trouble providing. I didn't take him up on his offer until this spring."

"Does he know you have?"

"Oh yeah, 'cause I told him."

"So, he was okay with knowing? Some men tell their wives they want them to have sex with other men but then freak out when it happens."

"He was sad that it had come to that because of his failures but my finding pleasure made him happy in a new way. He wanted to watch me so he secretly arranged with my lover so he could be there the next time. I was shocked when he walked in but the next thing I know, we were having a threesome. Sucking and fucking two men at the same time was the hottest thing I've ever done.

"The experience helped Jack get some of his mojo back; not all but some. I think having successes with other women will help him perform in our bedroom so I've encouraged him to find another partner too."

The icy tone in Cindy's voice suggested she was insulted. "Why involve me? Do you and your husband think I'm a sex provider for hire?"

"Oh no, honey. If he thought you sucked him because you expected to be paid, you'd never see him again. My husband says you are definitely a professionally trained therapist, but also one who probably gives happy endings to regular customers because you like pleasing men, not because you're selling favors. There's a big difference.

"Look, we know about the seedy side of the massage business. Guys just wanting to get their rocks off with no commitment beyond cash create the demand for those ladies who are essentially prostitutes behind a massage front. He's sampled rub and tug parlors and went for body rubs from women who advertised on Backpage back when he was experimenting to judge his virility. He's had handjobs and even blowjobs from them but they weren't enjoyable in any respect. He avoids places like that now.

"The oral sex you had with him was all about two consenting adults reacting to mutual sexual attraction. That it happened at your spa is just a coincidence. He's definitely turned on by your flirtations and wants to fuck you because he believes you would be an exciting partner. He's looking for a lover, not a whore. I've gone out on a limb here to approach you because I want to do for him like he did for me. If he has misjudged you or intercourse with him is beyond your personal limits, tell me and I'll call him off your trail."

A smile lifted her cheeks. "Okay. I'm satisfied y'all are for real." She nodded; then tossed back a long swallow that emptied her beer. "Excuse me, Sandy. I want to bring Dave into the rest of our conversation. Somehow, I don't believe that will intimidate you in any way." She rose from her chair and let herself into the bedroom Dave had entered.

After more than a minute of hushed voices, Cindy came out, speaking over her shoulder, "I'm getting another beer, darling. You need one?"

Dave had followed her out. "Get me a few, baby, so I won't have to get up in the middle of something important." Dave had changed out of his swimsuit into the white slacks and sleeveless t-shirt of a masseur. He approached me but stopped some distance away on the other side of the coffee table, looking back toward his wife, waiting while she dug in their cooler now parked in the kitchen.

When Cindy came over, three beer bottles dangled from the fingers of her left hand; she used a fourth in her curled right hand as a pointer toward Dave and me. "Sandy, this is my husband, Dave. Dave, Sandy is Jack's wife."

Dave was taking the three beers from Cindy so I remained seated. With a polite nod, he said, "Nice to meet you, Sandy. I've met Jack and seen you with him. Jack is a good ol' boy, now, aint he."

I wasn't quite sure how to take his Southerner reference so I made a joke. "He's been sayin' y'all since he met my family as a teenager but he'll always sound like a damn Yankee."

"Ha! That he does, but y'all are retired here, not visiting, so that makes him good enough for me."

Cindy had set her fresh beer on the coffee table and picked up my nearly empty water glass. "Refill? Hey wait, how about some sweet tea?"

"Now you're talking. Yes, please."

Dave sat on the sofa end closest to our chairs and facing me. I glanced at his legs that splayed open and saw his flaccid cock outlined in the stretched fabric of his right pants leg. When I looked up, I knew he had busted me, but men never complain about a woman checking out their package. We exchanged knowing smiles.

Cindy returned with my drink and restarted our conversation. "I'll admit that I knew you were Jack's wife just from seeing you together but I had to play it straight until I was convinced. Just because a woman says she knows what her husband is doing doesn't mean she isn't trying to get proof to use against him.

"I'm glad I've met you, Sandy. You and Jack are an amazing couple that are honest and open about yourselves. You both told me the same stories about his personal problems and how y'all are handling it. You've come to the right people for assistance."

Turning to her husband, she told him, "Sandy tells me her husband liked my mouth so much, he wants to fuck me." She was showing me they had similar openness when she discussed sex with another man so bluntly with her husband.

"Seems like you were right about him, baby. That's what you want too, a done deal I figure. So what do you need me for?"

"I think Jack and Sandy are the kind of couple who might enjoy our club."

"Oh yeah? Well, let's see then."

"Sandy, your husband is a sexy and exciting man. I'd love to have sex with him, especially now that I have your blessing. Since you and Jack have an open relationship, I wonder if y'all would like to meet some of our friends."

I was surprised at the sudden turn in our conversation and her mention of a club and other friends but I wanted to deal with one issue at a time. "Before we talk about your friends, can I add that I want to be there to watch you and Jack? Like I told you, Jack secretly arranged to watch me with my lover and we ended up in a threesome. The idea of seeing him fucking like a stud and making you come is something I don't want to miss. I don't know how a threesome works with two women besides taking turns and I don't think Jack could do us both, so I'm open to any ideas you might have."

"You and I could go down on each other. Men like to watch that. Have you ever tried it?"

"I got drunk and a lesbian seduced me once but I don't remember much about it. I can't say I want to try it again for my sake but to please Jack, I suppose I would do it."

When Cindy asked for details about my threesome experience, I explained in more detail than before how Jack arranged with Roberto to show up in mid-session just to watch but ended up tag-team fucking me. I hadn't divulged Roberto's occupation the first time so when I mentioned the massage part, we were briefly sidetracked discussing how I got involved with Roberto.

Cindy kidded her husband, "Sorry darling, looks like Sandy already has a masseur."

"What do I care? If they join our club, I'll have my pleasure with her."

"You're just a horny old man. You're gonna scare her off before we get a chance to invite her."

My eyes drifted to his crotch at the mention of horny to see his engorged cock trapped against his leg. They both looked toward me at that moment - double busted. I deliberately looked at his stiffie again to declare my boldness. "What is this club thing? Some sort of swingers?"

Cindy answered, "Exactly. We swap partners with couples on a regular basis. We have occasional parties where a bunch of couples mingle and pair up."

"How does one become a member?"

"By invitation. It's our club so Dave and I do most of the inviting."

I saw the opportunity to have multiple partners on equal terms with Jack. I was sure he would go for the idea; he could boink Cindy and play a larger field. The key to securing both deals bulged out a few feet away.

I moved over to the sofa and sat next to Dave, boldly grabbing his cock. "Is there some sort of initiation process?"

Cindy answered, no, but Dave said, yes.

I looked in his eyes and gave him a squeeze. "Then I'm ready to begin right now."

Dave leaned forward and twisted around to kiss me. His hand slid my swimsuit strap off my shoulder and exposed my breast. Our tongues wrestled while his fingers tweaked my nipples and I massaged his cock.

At the first break in his kisses, I told him, "You should remove your pants unless you want a big wet stain."

He stood up; and with a flip of the button and a pull on his zipper, his open pants were falling to his ankles. His hard cock stuck straight forward and curved downward. When he sat back down, I moved between his knees. I grabbed his rigid member and slapped it against my breasts that I had fully exposed when I lowered my swimsuit to my waist. After a minute of massaging his glans with my tongue and sliding him in and out, I pushed my head down, taking him into my throat.

"Oh, hell yeah," Dave exclaimed. "Baby, I move that we invite Sandy and Jack into our Moon Club."

"I second that. Let me get her a membership badge." She opened a drawer on the coffee table before tossing a condom on the sofa next to Dave.

I stood up to remove my swimsuit while he cloaked his manhood. Turning my back to him, I lowered my sex on his sturdy penis. Cindy came and kneeled between my open legs. She began licking both of us, his cock when I rose up, my clit when he pushed in deep. The combination of G-spot and clit stimulation drove me to a quick orgasm.

I vocalized the pleasure rippling through me while bouncing in his lap. Several orgasms followed until his grunts rose in tempo. He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me down. My hips swirled in a tight circle as his cock pulsed inside me.

After we uncoupled, our totally naked, half naked, and covered bodies rested on the sofa in harmony. They used the time to explain some of the aspects of their sex club. Most swinger groups have similar guidelines to protect all members and to make encounters enjoyable. Without prior experience or even knowledge of how such groups operated, I was an eager listener.

Cindy stressed the etiquette of pairing up. Anything goes as long as all parties agree, although not everyone has to participate in every act. One person could decline for themselves or their spouse without fear of reprisal or coercion. No reasons have to be given, but ones that are cannot be derogatory. Any one person can end an encounter before completion for comfort reasons but repeated reversals after starting can label a couple as uncooperative. If the issue is about acts that were not agreed upon or became unhealthy, then the perpetrator would be the one who gets an undesirable reputation.

Fits of anger or jealousy are disquieting to others so any such displays could lead to forfeiting future invitations. Since any sex including same gender acts is permissible, no one should be offended or angry when politely asked. Technically, asking first applies to everything including straight vaginal sex in the missionary position but in practice, people with aversions to regular oral or common positions need to speak out during discussions. Once couples get to know another's preferences and fetishes, prior permissions can be assumed to carry forward.

Safe sex is mandatory between non-spouses and can never be rescinded even by agreement in private; it is against club rules to even ask about bareback. Objects and dildos have to be cleaned between insertions; condoms have to be changed after anal before vaginal penetration and when changing partners. Anyone discovered breaking these rules would be banned from future parties.




Spreading My Wings Ch. 08



Protected oral sex is optional, covered by agreements among all parties and spouses. Short of abstinence, cunnilingus cannot be protected. Fellatio can be covered or limited to non-ejaculation although the latter does not provide true disease protection. In practice, Cindy and Dave have only met one woman who wouldn't fellate period, even her husband.

Dave admitted a fondness for anal sex with a woman and questioned my experience. I told him I didn't enjoy it and would likely decline a request. Then Cindy asked if Jack liked it. I admitted he had tried it with me but I believed he probably wasn't driven to find a willing partner.

"What about him taking it in the ass?"

"Oh God, no. He is very phobic about gay male sex."

Cindy giggled at my emphatic response. "That's normal but what about you putting a dildo or your finger in his ass during sex?"

In giving a brief summary of my fascination with Jack's butt, I mentioned seeing his anus excites me. I admitted having slipped a finger into him on occasion and described his tolerant submission to my intrusion. We've never had a dildo and I've never thought to use my vibrator. I concluded by acknowledging that I have had weird desires to fuck his ass.

Dave and Cindy looked at each other. He said, "You thinking Barbie?" and she nodded.

Cindy turned back to me and said, "We'd like you to meet our niece, Barbie. In fact, she's here right now in the other bedroom. She moved here yesterday to work in our spa that opens tomorrow. She worked for us the last five years and has been involved in our sexual activities too. She enjoys doing men with a strap-on. She can teach you how so we can surprise Jack with your new talent. Are you interested?"

I indicated I was so Dave and I got dressed. As we did, I realized we had sex within earshot of a relative of theirs. If it didn't bother them, there was no reason for me to feel out of place. Cindy went to another part of their apartment. She returned with a twenty-something woman whose mere appearance sent a chill of concern up my spine. Immediately, I thought, 'If Jack gets a chance to fuck her, he may forget to come home.'

I use a convention for changing names of people in my stories but I deviated from it in her case. The name Barbie fits best because her impossibly perfect body resembled the renowned doll. Large breasts stood out unsupported, defying gravity, high on her chest. Her flat stomach accentuated the overhanging masses; her narrow waist and wide hips produced an exaggerated hourglass outline; legs worthy of a chorus line dancer created a gap below her prominent mons and connected to the round buttocks of her backside.

She wore an indecently small, camel-colored bikini that blended into her skin. Her massive mammies stretched the thin halter fabric enough to show not just her nipples but the bumps on her areolas as well. The bottom strip of fabric appeared vacuum-sealed to her vulva, creating a cameltoe front to back. If I appear to be obsessed with her sexiness, it's because I want to make it clear how conflicted I felt.

What insanity drove me to consider letting my husband get near her? Yet there I was, arranging to send him to their lair for sex. Cindy introduced us and gave Barbie a brief summary of our sexual plans for my husband at the spa.

"Geez, Auntie, you haven't even opened your spa yet. How did you get involved with her husband already?"

"His name is Jack, the guy I told you about this morning."

"Ohhhh! That guy! I'd love to get in on this. What are we gonna do with him?"

Women have confidants to whom they divulge details about lovers and escapades. Judging by Barbie's reaction, Cindy gushing about my husband was one of the first things she heard upon her arrival. Pride in my husband's magnetism and prowess that filled them with excited anticipation glowed in my heart.

Cindy and Barbie talked about a four-hand massage scenario that obviously wasn't new to them. Two women giving a sensual massage leading to a sex act was standard fare for them; altering the roles to include me required only small changes. They told me about using a blindfold that enhanced the recipient's sense of touch, but also provided a perfect opportunity for me to be present and wear the strap-on without Jack's awareness. If the plan worked out, I would be enjoying my husband's ass before he knew I was there.

Experience had taught them that the sound of someone arriving often worries the customer so I had to be there before Jack. With the twenty-mile distance to the spa precluding riding my bike, the plan was for me to leave my house thirty minutes before Jack did. I would depart on my bicycle but park it at Cindy's house where Dave would be waiting to drive me to the spa.

The only place at the spa where I could conceal my presence was in one of the treatment rooms. Cindy intended to keep me company until the massage began to control my anxiety. Barbie would explain that Cindy was busy, using the opportunity to shower naked with Jack to show him her charms before he was blindfolded. It was a bait and switch setup. Jack would think he was signing up with her but I would drive home the contract.

The finishing touch in Cindy's plan involved aroma therapy. She inquired which of my perfumes Jack liked and if he had candle fragrance preferences. My answers were Juicy and vanilla. Vanilla was an easy aroma they could release from the diffusers at the spa. Fortune graced our planned tryst because Cindy had her own bottle of Juicy. She would wear it as a subliminal tease for Jack, and to mask my presence.

Jack was certain to visit the spa within the first week so we had little time for me to learn the unfamiliar strap-on action. Barbie recommended an immediate practice session with Dave standing-in for Jack. I followed the three of them to yet a third bedroom in their house setup as a massage therapy room. Dave, Cindy, and I began disrobing while Barbie retrieved her 'equipment' from a drawer.

The harness was panty-like with heavy elastic waistbands for support. Protruding from a hole in front was about five inches of erect-penis-shaped silicone. The harness had been modified to hold the double-ended dildo. The back end had a flattened and curved section that held a second protrusion meant to enter the wearer's vagina. Barbie explained the dildo was designed so it could be worn without a harness but it was difficult to keep inside during energetic sex.

Barbie wiped down both ends with a moist towelette and then applied a gel-lubricant to the female end before giving it to me to put on. The gel and earlier intercourse made for easy insertion. After I settled everything in place, she lubricated the penis. I could feel her hand contact with the dildo transferring to my clit and inside my vagina.

I had been concentrating on her instructions without thoughts about the sex act I was about to perform. Thus, I was startled to turn and find Dave and Cindy already in coitus. Apparently, eagerness to be taken from behind made him hard despite recent copulation with me. Cindy was on the table positioned so Dave was able to stand at the end fucking her. Dave stood with his legs spread wide, exposing his anus.

Barbie anticipated Jack would be nervous about what she put in him because of the blindfold and his lack of prior experience. She described her practice with men their first time was to let them feel the dildo until inserted.

Standing near Dave's side, she demonstrated by grabbing Dave's hand to guide it but she stopped. "Wait, he's liable to sense my body is out of position." She moved behind me and reached under my arm to repeat the move. Both of their hands were in contact with the dildo, guiding it to his anus until I pushed into him by leaning forward.

"Why don't I just do this part myself?"

"He's your husband. Believe me when I say he could recognize your hands by touch or at least feel how different they are from mine. We don't want anything to give you away until you're fucking him."

Dave paused his movements so I could practice mine. I immediately noticed the different hip action. The point of contact was in front instead of between my legs, the movement was back and forth instead of up and down, and the movement distance was greater. Muscles in my back and legs tired quickly. Stimulations from fucking transferred to me as tilting and bumping of the dildo instead of sliding in and out.

When Dave started fucking his wife, my motions were exposed as unsynchronized and awkward until I pulled back too far as he rammed forward, allowing the dildo to fall out. Barbie helped me back in and then recommended finding a point where I could maintain penetration with minimal movement. The concept she described involved Dave thrusting back and forth in his own rhythm, literally fucking himself on the dildo.

I concentrated on Barbie's instructions and my physical participation, separating myself from the eros of the situation. My inexperienced moves were nonetheless significantly influential to Dave. After a surprising short ride, he was helplessly unable to hold back his orgasm. The feeling of sexual power had yet to manifest itself but I was eager to try the strap-on with my husband for the pleasure I could give him.

* * * * *

Only days later, Jack prepared for his second massage with Cindy at the Moonbeams Spa. He didn't notice that I was grooming myself for something extraordinary rather than simply freshening for the day. His imagination preoccupied his thoughts with possible outcomes, unaware that I had full knowledge of the definite experience in store for him. It was going to blow his mind.

I left Jack under the pretense of visiting sites and stores, a common activity for me. I had my perfume tucked in my bag so I could apply it after I left. Dave came out, ready to depart, a moment after I knocked on his door. As we drove, his friendly patter included assurances all was made ready. He used his cell phone to alert Cindy of our arrival so that she was waiting at the rear entrance for me.

After greeting me with a firm hug, she gave me a brief tour of the spa. A reception alcove occupied by Barbie faced the front waiting area. A hallway on one side led back past two treatment rooms to a shower room with an opaque, plastic curtain across the entrance. The remainder of the open rear area served as a break room and supply storage.

Cindy led me into the front treatment room and closed the door. She went over the itinerary, reminding me that she would stay with me while Barbie gave him a table shower. The door to our room would be open when they exited the shower but there was little chance of him observing me still in the room. Shortly after Cindy joined them, they would blindfold Jack. I was to wait outside the closed door until Barbie quietly opened it to let me in. She showed me the corner I should stand in during the massage. I took off my clothes and put on a terrycloth robe she gave me to wear until the sex began.

Her final words checked my mood. "You look anxious to do this. I'm not worried about you getting cold feet at the last minute. I can tell you're comfortable having sex with other partners because of the way you jumped on my husband but there are women who enjoy that freedom yet can't accept their husband with another woman. You have the final say. At any point, if you say stop, we stop with no hard feelings."

"You won't hear that from me. I'm all in for Jack knowing he's still got what it takes. It will excite me to see his cock in your pussy and make me proud when he makes you come."

"Let me tell you, girlfriend, your man is sexy. I've tasted his kisses. I've felt his hands, his tongue doing wonderful things to me. I'm doing this not just because you asked me to, but because I want to fuck him for my own reasons. He excites me so much, I'm getting wet for him already. Can you deal with that?"

"You'd be surprised how many women have said the same things about him. They would all be insanely jealous to know you're going to get the chance..."

The electronic chimes of the entry sensor silenced our banter. We heard a muffled male voice and then a single beep tone from a speaker in the room. Cindy mouthed the words, 'It's Jack.' She pulled me by the arm close to the common wall between the rooms. She pointed at a wall vent just above our heads. Cocking our ears, we listened to them prepare.

When she knew they had gone to the shower room, Cindy whispered, "I'm going to lock the front door so we don't get a walk-in. Wait here. In about ten minutes, you'll hear me activate the door sensor so Jack will think it's my other customer leaving. Then you'll hear me join them in the next room. That'll be your cue to go wait outside the door." 

The wait seemed like an hour. I clenched my hands to stop their trembling. Through the open door, I heard the voices of Jack and Barbie, and then Cindy's as if she was talking to someone. When I heard the sensor chime, I watched the open doorway until Cindy breezed by. Soon, I was standing outside their door, trying desperately to hear anything, but the blood pounding in my ears masked all sounds.

Finally, the door swung open slowly to reveal Barbie grinning at me. I stepped past her, stopping to look at the draped backside of my husband on the table, his blindfolded face pressed into the cradle. I fought an urge to crawl on top of him and love him. Barbie silently closed the door and had to nudge me off to my assigned corner.

For forty-five minutes, two yellow bikini clad ladies rubbed and teased my hubby, one on each side of him. They moved the modesty-sheet to uncover various parts of him but never exposed his genitals; their hands, however, ignored the fabric as a boundary to their touching.

At the end of the massage, each woman removed her bikini. Putting four hands on his shoulders, they made swirling effleurages down his chest. Sliding under the draping at his waist, they continued across his hips and down his legs, pushing the sheet completely off him.

Jack understood the implication of their act. His motionless hands came to life. Getting bearings from the legs they encountered, each hand traveled up to probe a honey-pot. The women were running massage strokes from the four corners of his body, ending with long pulls on his erect penis.

Cindy smiled at me before leaning in to make her threesome offer. Just as they had planned, they convinced him to allow Barbie to fuck him with a strap-on while he fucked Cindy. Already, he trusted them. I knew he would.

I slipped off my robe and snuck to a position behind where they were setting up. Barbie let Jack examine the strap-on contraption with his hands. When he was satisfied, she wiped and lubed it as in practice before handing it to me. I was so nervous I almost dropped it.

My vagina was ready for sex, oozing its own lubrication; the G-spot stimulator slid in easily. Barbie lubed the dildo as I adjusted the harness. By the time I stepped behind Jack, he was balls deep in Cindy's vagina. I was so busy with my preparations that I missed the magical moment when his cock entered another woman for the first time.

I didn't fret about it for a second. Before me was the ass of the man I loved, one I have spanked, kissed, bitten, and fingered for decades. At last, I was going to penetrate his body like he does mine. I was so anxious to enter him that I almost jumped the gun. Barbie saved the day by pulling me back. She reached around me to guide Jack's hand to the dildo. With her guidance, I slid in.

I wanted to raise my hands and shout for joy. I was having my way, focused on the experience of being in the sexually dominant position. Always before, even when I rode on top of him, he was fucking me with his penis; now I was the one wielding the wand of wonder. Already, an orgasm was boiling up from my womb. My hands grabbed his hips and pulled him against my phallus, slamming his cheeks against my groin.

I was out of control again, thrusting too hard, too early; forgetting all the advice they had given me. I was ruining his ability to establish a rhythm with Cindy. Barbie grabbed me by the waist from behind. She held me still until Jack achieved a rocking motion I could compliment with slight tilts of my pelvis.

She moved to Jack's side where she could kiss him and tease his nipples. His hand immediately sought her clit but instantly realized the physical impossibility of her being at his side. The question of who was taking his ass interrupted the three-way fuck long enough for him to discover I was there.

My life-long lover took the news in stride. He knew better than anybody that his wife's fantasy was being fulfilled. He submitted his body to me so we could return to action.

Barbie was able to coach me vocally now, so she explained the dildo should reach his prostate gland, his 'G-spot', at about three to four inches deep. By controlling my urge to push too far, I could provide the maximum pleasure for my man. From his vocal reactions, I knew when I found that spot.

Jack later described his orgasm as one long flow instead of waves, a burning sensation from deep inside, extending through his penis. His condom held a large pool of semen when he was done. I had two decent orgasms for my efforts but considered the experience my husband enjoyed provided the deepest satisfaction a wife could want.

Cindy didn't have the be-all and end-all fuck she hoped to get but she knew she would have other opportunities with Jack. She earned the right to them for taking a back seat to our needs. Barbie was left a bystander. Because her contributions were critical to our success, I promised her unlimited access to my husband for sex. I have several stories to tell about swinging with them and their friends.

From this encounter, we developed our own strap-on fetish. We purchased strap-ons for personal use in our bedroom. Yes, that was plural strap-ons. I have a double ended one like Barbie's for taking my husband. We found a hollow one for Jack to wear. It's a nearly nine-inch monster that's always ready to fuck the shit out of me, and has room for him to get hard inside.



Spreading My Wings Ch. 09



This chaptered story series chronicles my initial extra-marital experiences. They began late in 2013 after over forty years in a monogamous marriage. Because of health problems and his inability to perform, my husband gave me permission to seek sexual gratification from other partners as a gift of his love. Chapter one explained reaching that decision. I subsequently gave him freedom to act on an opportunity with another woman. We now have an open marriage that includes swinging, sharing, and threesomes.

I am a mature woman (over sixty) who still enjoys energetic sex. Despite flab, wrinkles, and saggy boobs, I have no problem attracting and satisfying younger partners. These are real life encounters. I don't falsify my appearance or pretend all sex outcomes are perfect, so don't expect porn-like fantasy encounters. 

I believe in and practice safe sex. You won't find bareback intercourse or cream pies in my autobiographical stories. We clean dildos between uses. I may not mention every time a condom was rolled on but they always were. 

*****

Spreading My Wings Ch. 09 - Greeting the New Year by having sex with eight people.

This experience could be chronicled in my "Biker" series because Lance was one of the seven men I had sex with in the wee-hours of January first. In fact, I will write a separate Biker chapter to cover the second part of the night after we left the New Year's Eve party. It will take two chapters to tell about everything I did. I'll submit both stories together so readers can enjoy all the action without waiting until next week like a TV-sitcom.

This story also could be a "New Game in Town" chapter because we started out at a swingers' party hosted by Dave and Cindy. However, hubby's performance at the party was less than stellar, so he'll get honorable mentions in this story and be grateful for less scrutiny in the details.

Chapter nine is about me for good reason. A fellatio contest partner counts as my seventh male sex partner and preceded the six men I fucked. Only the contest oral and the first four intercourse partners appear in this chapter. The remaining three involve my husband, the biker, and dildo sex, anal and vaginal, with the biker's mother  in a wild, all-night foursome at their house.

All sex in this story is hetero. There is marijuana use mentioned; if that bothers you, perhaps you should skip this story.

© SandraMustard 2015

* * * * *

Do you know how old people prepare for a late-night party? They sleep most of the afternoon. I made that self-depreciating remark to remind readers that my story is my real life experience, not a fantasy written to titillate readers. Our daily routines include retiring between nine and ten o'clock. We are in our sixties so it's not easy to override our body clocks to stay awake and active through the early morning hours without adequate planning.

Planning actually began months earlier when I had a thought to introduce my biker lover to the swinger lifestyle. My intention was to show off my cougar trophy-stud and let him revel in a room full of older females that he prefers. Inquiries with our swinger hosts established the need for him to arrive with his own female partner, but I wasn't prepared to leave my husband out to accomplish that. To our surprise, the biker's mother provided the solution by volunteering to be her son's partner for attendance purposes only. If you have not read my story about how her involvement came to pass and you want to, it is covered in The Biker Ch. 06.

His mother's offer equally surprised our swinger hosts ... and we discussed with them whether their intra-family relationship would put off any party couples. In the end, we considered it no different from the bi-sexuality of some club members and a matter for consenting adults to accept.

During our chat, Cindy mentioned for the first time that they traditionally have a New Year's Eve blowjob contest that immediately follows the midnight celebration. Each contestant pair pays ten dollars and the first man to ejaculate wins the prize money with his partner. The contest is held en mass with a common start. Knowing the biker's quick trigger, I figured I would pair up with him for the best chance to win.

When I notified Lance that the hosts approved their participation, I also mentioned the contest. He expressed his eagerness to have my mouth on his cock again whether we won the money or not. He imagined his mother might like to suck Jack again, but they weren't involved in the discussion to guarantee the pairing. Since the party location was beyond their house from ours and we needed to introduce them to the hosts, I said we would pick them up and travel in one car. The last things I covered were a reminder to bring his personal supply of condoms and the probable seventy-dollar door fee. The steep fee was to cover renting a vacation house large enough to accommodate thirty couples.

The Christmas holiday season meant the swinger party hardly crossed our minds until only days before the event. I almost agreed to watch some of our grandchildren so my daughter and son could attend their own celebration. When I remembered in time and said we already had plans, she was miffed.

"What am I supposed to do now?" she lamented.

Granted, we hadn't gone out on New Year's Eve since Hawaii, which was before she had kids, but she shouldn't have assumed I was available and waited until December twenty-ninth to ask. She couldn't believe we had party plans and pushed for information. I didn't share any explicit details but said it was with some neighbors, which seemed to mollify her.

On Monday, two days before the party, Jack went to Barbie at the Moonbeams Spa for a manzilian wax. Sensuously handling his cock without gloves aroused him intensely despite the sting of having hairs on it yanked out by the roots. Afterward, Barbie used two hands to bathe his cock in soothing lotion while taking the business end into her mouth. Wiggling her tongue on his frenulum area while slowing stroking him, his excitement ended happily down her throat.

By lunchtime on the day of the party, I had gathered our sex toys, cleaners, lubricants, and a box of twelve condoms into a tote bag for easy transport. An hour-long afternoon nap was fairly common for us but we set aside four hours this time for the reason I mentioned earlier. Taking almost thirty minutes to fall asleep, we managed to sleep close to three hours. The nap gave us plenty of rest for the long night but we both felt groggy for most of our evening preparations.

I trimmed my pubes and shaved the edges. Jack trimmed his full beard and colored the white out. Without the telltale sign of aging, he easily passes for fifteen years younger. Balmy weather in the seventies meant we could wear light clothing without jackets. I changed outfits several times until settling on matching Victoria Secret bra and thong under a thin beach shift. Jack wore athletic shorts, the perforated cloth type with the lining removed, and a silk shirt in a tropical print.

Despite taking hours to get ready, we had time to kill before leaving our house so we smoked a joint. The pot helped mellow my anxieties. I felt surprisingly nervous about the swinger party even though it wasn't our first, maybe because we would be among sixty people socially having sex. I was anxious for it to go well for Lance and Stacey too.

We arrived to pick up the biker and his mother earlier than we predicted. Stacey wasn't ready yet so we went inside to wait. I couldn't take my eyes off Lance; he was dressed to show everybody what he had. Appropriately wearing a Tour de France cycling outfit, the matching bright-yellow jersey and knee-length leggings hugged his body. The nylon-thin and supple fabric stretched over his flaccid but long cock.

When he greeted me with a hug, he pushed his bulge against my mons and pulled my breasts against his chest. His face tilted toward mine and he kissed me, not like a friend but like a man who had fucked me and wanted to again. Most obvious to me, he was over any hesitancy in Jack's presence.

"This is going to be a great way to celebrate the New Year, one I'm sure I'll never forget. Thanks for inviting us. Sit down and relax while you wait. I'll get y'all some sweet tea."

Jack and I sat on cushioned wicker-chairs. I decided to re-apply my lip-gloss since I lost so much of it on Lance's mouth. Right after putting the gloss back in my purse, I looked up to see Lance standing there, holding out a glass to me. What really had my attention though was his cock bulge less than a foot away from my face. With one hand, I took the drink; with my other, I ran my fingertips along his cock.

"Lance, honey, your pants are so revealing. Every woman at the party is going to see the size of your cock."

"That's the idea, isn't it? If they like what they see..."

"Few men advertise so blatantly. Many women dress provocatively but honest conversation is what leads to the sex hookups, usually mutual partner swapping. Don't worry; you'll be able to pick and choose. And don't be offended if a man or two takes interest in your cock. Politely tell them you have no bi-interest and that will be the end of it."

As we talked, my fingers had continuously rubbed along the top of his cock joined by my thumb on the underside. No longer hanging limp toward his thigh, it now stretched stiffly horizontal. I could see a bulging vein on the side and the detail of his swollen head.

"Want to practice?" he asked.

"We need to save your first shot for the contest, big boy, but a little warm up is okay."

I put my hands on his firm buttocks and pulled his groin closer. Covering my teeth with my lips, I pressed them down over his glans. Shifting my jaw and softly biting, I played with his hard flesh through his leggings.

"Can't y'all wait for the party?" Stacey asked as she entered the room, interrupting our play.

Her stunning appearance grabbed the attention of all three of us. Her perfect makeup and hair were hardly noticeable above the sarong she was wearing. I wasn't sure at first what she wore underneath or how sheer the material was. Her all-over tan disguised her areolae and nipples until I looked closely. Without pubic hair, panty tan-lines, or a labial slit extending into her mons, her naked sex was equally hard to discern.

Jack had stood to greet her. While hugging and kissing, his hand tweaked her nipple and slid down to push her dress between her legs. She rose on her tiptoes at first but then quickly pushed his hand away.

"You're gonna get me wet and spot my dress." She turned away from Jack and toward us. When her eyes fell to Lance's crotch, she blurted, "What the hell is that? Sandy, did you have to put your brand on my son?"

Everyone looked at Lance's crotch and saw the near-perfect lip-print my lipstick made on his bulge, the reddish hue looking orange and contrasting sharply on the bright yellow Lycra.

"I'm so sorry, Lance. I've ruined your clothes for the party."

"No, you haven't. I'm gonna wear them like a badge of honor."

He turned, picked up a joint I hadn't noticed lying on the end table, and used a lighter to start it burning. He took a long toke and held it in as he passed the doobie to me. I took a healthy toke and nearly choked on its harshness before passing it on to Jack.

"Y'all never cease to surprise me," Stacey remarked as she took it after Jack.

I thought her family nudism, sucking Jack's cock in front of her son, and smoking pot with him were more extraordinary than anything we did with our adult children but I didn't speak my thoughts aloud. The joint made three trips around the circle before everyone declined more. I suspect Lance's pot was more potent than ours was or maybe its effects just compounded on top of ours. By the time we left, I felt as though I had to make a conscious effort to touch my foot to the ground with each step.

No sooner had we left their driveway than Lance asked what was in the tote bag on the seat between them. I passed off 'toys' as insignificant items but Lance dug into the bag on a treasure hunt. He inspected my strap-on and then Jack's cock sleeve with much bemusement. Answering his inquiries, it was Stacey who succinctly described their purposes and which of us wore what. Apparently, she was no stranger to strap-on dildos. I explained that swinger party sex seldom involved toys but if I ever encountered an interested partner, I would be equipped.

When he pulled out my strawberry flavored lubricant, he remarked, "I remember this stuff."

"Oh really?" his mother asked and gave me a sly smile.

Our box of condoms brought a moment of angst to Lance. "Oh, shit! I forgot to bring my jimmy hats."

"Your what?" Jack asked. Neither he nor I heard that term before.

"I think he means rubbers." I made the connection because of the box he had just pulled out.

"Can we go back for them?"

Jack shook his head. "Nah. At a party like this, they'll have an emergency supply you can take from for a donation of a dollar each. Or you can take some from my box and replace them when we come back."

Lance opened the new box and took what looked like four, but had no pockets to store them, eventually handing them to his mother to keep in her hand-purse. I imagined that could lead to interesting situations. It also led my thoughts through logical concerns. No pockets - no wallet? No wallet - no money?

"Did you remember to bring cash? Seventy for the door fee plus contest entry fees?"

Stacey replied, "I have our money."

After some difficulty finding the place on the dark, twisty streets, we eventually arrived at what I knew from the hosts was a vacation rental. They leased it the whole week to use it one night. Spacious wooded lots offered some privacy from nearby homes but the number of parked cars let the neighbors know there was a party, not unusual in itself for New Year's Eve.

Dave and Cindy greeted us at the door. When I introduced Lance and Stacey, Dave shook their hands and began his short spiel about rules and etiquette. While he was talking, Cindy was studying Lance's crotch with great interest. When Dave finished, she leaned down and slid her hand over his bulge.

"Oh, Sandy, I see why you wanted to bed this young stud. Is that really your lipstick on his pants? You naughty girl! Couldn't leave him alone, huh? Do you intend to share him?"

"He's on his own, available to anybody. I want to meet all new partners tonight. The lipstick was an accident but he decided to wear the pants anyway."

"It's a nice touch, actually. Kind of a kiss-me-here suggestion." Cindy responded to the invitation by kissing his bulge before straightening up, but she left no color mark. "Lance honey, I think you're going to be very popular tonight." Casting an approving eye over Stacey, she added a prediction for her too. "I don't think you'll be a wallflower either. Enjoy the party."

Two helpers behind a folding table collected the door fee and contest entries. Only then did I find out my plan to pick Lance as my partner was not how the competition was arranged. Contestants had to enter as couples to ensure even male - female counts but names where put into separate boxes to be drawn later for random pairings. Experience had taught them to eliminate unfair strategy or familiarity advantages. The four of us entered. Later, we were matched with four strangers for partners.

The four of us toured the house together before drifting separate ways to mingle with the gathering swingers. The two-story house had six bedrooms, an immense great-room, and screened-in porches on both levels facing the ocean some distance away in the darkness. Bedsheets and even mattress pads covered the modest sitting furniture. All beds were stripped down to sheets and pads only while several air mattresses were lined up out on the porches for the adventurous. A recreation room had the furniture pushed to one side to make room for what appeared to be a large wrestling mat on the floor.

At our first swinger party, we experienced minimal selection time because of the small number of couples and everyone's desire for immediate action. At the beginning of this party, most people were waiting for the contest almost two hours away before having sex, but we did note two couples engaged in intercourse early. The extended greeting time made most couples reluctant to commit and a few readily declining further discussion. We had two decline us; in one, the woman wasn't interested in Jack; in the second, the man passed on me.

I suppose the young and fit like Stacey and Lance weren't having any issues filling their fuck-cards. We discovered the majority of couples were members of Dave and Cindy's long-standing swing club in Georgia and had made the trek to stay connected. Spanning in age from thirties to sixties, most were close to fifty, the most desired age for our friends.

Eventually, we saw two of the couples from our first party. They seemed to have the same plan, find new partners. With so many couples to choose from, the task was easy. We nodded in recognition but didn't stop to chat.

About an hour into the mingling, I spotted a thirtyish couple standing alone in a corner. They were having an animated conversation with smiles and nods but seemed hesitant to approach anybody else. Imagining that they were new to the swinging scene, I led Jack toward them for an introduction to break the ice.

"Is this your first party? It's not so scary once you meet people. You have lots in common with everybody here."

They weren't scared, only hesitant about the etiquette of swinging before taking the first plunge. Sam and Deitra were both thirty-five, married for twelve years. Their marriage was open to sex with other people, even having crossed the line with a couple of acquaintances, but rued the effects on social interactions that it caused. I learned this was their second party although they only watched the first time. They were ready to have sex with complete strangers. After mutual exploration of backgrounds, we agreed to hook up after the contest.

About twenty minutes before midnight, we gathered in the great room to hear the announced contest pairings. First calling out the man's name and having them raise their hand, they called out the woman next. One man and two ladies missed the first call but were there for the recall at the end. We were encouraged to become acquainted but not start any oral practicing - no one would be allowed to start already erect.

I met my forty-something partner, Ralph, and we explored what role-playing act would arouse him the most. As a plumber by trade, he suggested that I play a housewife who offered oral sex in lieu of payment. With a muscular frame and handsome face, I asked how many real customers spread their legs to pay him. Employed by a large company, he had to collect money for every job but admitted to some personal rodding of willing ladies. I accepted his admission as truthful given that he and his wife were swingers.

I noticed that the woman who would fellate my husband looked unenthusiastic, an assessment borne out during the contest. Lance had the complete opposite, a short, pudgy woman who acted as if she won something already and was eager to get her mouth on his sizeable organ. Her hand stealing touches drew my attention to two additional lip-prints on his leggings.

The midnight countdown led to customary kissing exchanges. After passionate embraces with Jack and Lance, I took on all comers. It was my first experience where complete strangers grabbed my breasts; two even wormed a finger into my slit. I wasn't shy about fondling them in return.




Spreading My Wings Ch. 09



After the celebration wound down, Cindy had the male contestants face away from the center of the great room. "Gentlemen, are you ready to get your head blown off to start the New Year? Well, y'all must start naked below the waist. You can thank Stan here for that rule after he wore a vibrating butt-plug during one contest. Now show me your asses."

The room filled with twitters, chuckles, and a few gasps as the men dropped their pants. After Cindy looked them over, she had them turn around, all facing her. "Ladies, on your knees, please."

I saw several women disrobing. Thinking my partner would appreciate seeing my breasts, I stripped down to my thong. More ladies joined the naked sisterhood until only a few steadfastly remained fully clothed; Jack's partner was one of them. Sucking cock in a room with sixty people made their shyness absurd.

Ralph was a grower; his small-when-flaccid cock was still turtled in a collar of loose skin. I leaned close and cooed to the little man. "Does Ralphie want to come out to play? I have a special man-cave for you to stretch-out in, all wwwwet and wwwwarm, and a squirmy tongue that wants to wrassle with you."

My suggestions awoke him; his circumcised glans hung several inches lower. I looked up and gave Ralph a lusty look. "Your cock looks so good. I gonna eat you up!"

Cindy was speaking over my quiet remarks. "Men, call out 'sploogie' when you come. Ladies, pull off so I can see the cum so I can call the winner. I don't see any hard-ons so, ready... set... go!"

The timing was perfect as Ralph's cock continued to grow and achieved lifting stiffness just as Cindy gave the go signal. I grabbed his cock and slid it onto my tongue. Pushing my head forward, my lips reached his trimmed pubic hairs, easily engulfing his modest size. I had room to move my tongue around him, too. His cock was easy to suck and I took advantage.

One hand played with his balls, the other pulled his ass toward me. Using slow plunging, twisting around, and rubbing with my tongue, I had him rock solid and throbbing in half a minute. Even though he grew a little more, throating him required little effort. It seemed the contest was ours to win.

I thought of a way to boost his arousal to the critical point quickly. I pulled off his cock and stuck my forefinger in my mouth to load it up with saliva. As I throated him again, my hand slid past his balls. My finger found his anus and I felt it pucker in futile resistance. A quick push and I was in.

Ralph rose on his tiptoes and swore. I pushed as deep as I could and curled my finger back. I had never touched a prostate before, but with general knowledge, imagined I could. I found something, more like a bump, but when I probed it, Ralph gasped softly while settling on his heels. I tasted a drop of precum. I was sure we had it now. I waited for him to cry the code word while my tongue snaked under his cock.

"Sploogie!" someone cried, followed an instant later by another, "Sploogie!" Both came from behind me. I pulled off and turned my head to look. Two men held raised arms; I don't know which called out first. It didn't matter; one cock was clearly shooting streams of semen already, the other started as I looked.

Ralph was begging me. "I'm there! Don't leave me like this!"

I heard Cindy declaring the winner as I plunged my mouth back over his straining cock. To hell with the prize money, we wanted to cross the finish line too. Holding him in my throat for several seconds, I squeezed him with a partial swallow. My finger probed deep again. His body quivered and my tongue detected the surge of semen gushing up his shaft. I had just enough reaction time to pull up, letting him fill my mouth. His semen was as thick as mayonnaise but almost tasteless. I accepted every dribble and swallowed.

I released his cock and his asshole, and then stood up. "Was that good? Will you kiss the mouth that sucked your dick?"

"Of course, I will." He held me tight for a long tongue kiss. I could feel his still-stretched member sandwiched against my belly. "That was one of the best blowjobs I've ever had. My first with a prostate massage, by the way. I don't think I've ever come that fast before."

"Thanks for saying that. I once thought I was about the worst cocksucker on the planet."

Grabbing my clothes, I excused myself. In the bathroom, I washed my hands thoroughly and redressed. I found Jack talking to Stacey as Lance and I approached at the same time. We traded stories. Poor Jack never got an erection but didn't think it was his fault. Lance's eager beaver was just that, a little too toothy. Even though she swallowed all nine inches of him, he never came. Stacey played her man to the end as an also-ran, swallowing his load.

Several couples approached our friends so we sought out Sam and Deitra. We found them at the doorway of bedroom that was conveniently empty. We learned that Sam and Deitra had uneventful contest attempts so they were ready for a less hectic encounter.

Sam was a gentle and smooth lover. He wanted to take control and demonstrate his skills, making me the focus of our foreplay. His tongue was obviously experienced with giving a woman oral pleasure but he never before had a woman react like me. When I quickly erupted in a chain of violent orgasms with little refractory time, he was in awe. Within minutes, I was begging him to fuck me so he mounted me without further ado. He had a gentle rocking motion that set my sex on fire. Several of my penetration generated orgasms set his off earlier than he wanted.

Afterward, I made sure he knew I thoroughly enjoyed our coupling despite the short duration. I used the opportunity to explain to the newbie that swinger party sex was uncomplicated, often completed without extended foreplay. Such sex is about the physical pleasure without personal or emotional commitment.

Hearing moans next to us, we turned our heads to watch Jack with his head still between Deitra's thighs. Sam smiled broadly as his wife squirmed and babbled nonsense. Jack eventually put on a condom and began fucking her.

Sam withdrew from me, removed his condom, and turned on his side to watch his wife. I became aware of a couple sitting in chairs beyond the foot of the bed. Both the man and the woman were staring at my splayed legs and exposed vulva while she stroked his erect cock sticking out of his pants. The man saw my gaze, pointed at his cock, and then gestured toward my sex. I nodded silently.

Both of them approached the bed. The man disrobed, put on protection, and kneeled between my legs. The woman stood beside the bed and asked if she could suck my nipples. I nodded again. Sam noticed my new partners and moved off the bed to watch his wife from the chairs.

The unnamed man was a jackrabbit, furiously thrusting into me right from the start. While the woman had her mouth over one breast, her hand slid down to rub my clit. I reached for the woman's crotch but she stopped my reciprocation, explaining that she had heavy flow from her period. The man's mechanical approach to fucking did little to excite me; the woman's touch did nothing. I managed one mild orgasm before he shot his wad. He withdrew and they left the bedroom without even a thank you.

By that time, Jack had his orgasm, having thoroughly boned the contented Deitra. It would be his only orgasm at the party. People were standing at the door, so the four of us gathered our clothes and crowded into the bathroom to clean up. As we all dressed, the new couple thanked us for providing a wonderful first swinging experience. We shared warm hugs and soft kisses before parting, passing the already occupied bed.

After snacking on the appetizers provided and taking refreshments, we wandered around the party house observing all the sex activities. We talked to a few couples but made no connections for more than an hour.

Standing on the upper porch was an older, portly man with a large beer gut and a headful of short white hair. He had a much younger trophy-wife, perhaps half his age, and his big thrill was to have her fuck as many men as possible while he watched. She was naked, bent over with her hands on the railing, taking one man doggy-style while another waited his turn. Her skinny body jerked from the force of the man's thrusts, her augmented breast swinging in rhythm. She was very vocal, using crude language to encourage her sex partner and describe to her husband what he was doing.

We made more than one trip to the recreation room to watch the mosh-pit sex on the gym mat. At one time, we saw ten people in a sexual tangle. Jack wasn't interested in joining the free-for-all so we watched a little and then moved on again.

As two o'clock approached, we finally got into more action ourselves. We had been among several people watching a woman being double penetrated (anal - vaginal). The two well-acquainted couples were enjoying a regular encounter where the men gang up on their wives, each in turn. We had caught the end of the second act because we were there when they finished and moved into the bathroom.

I realized that the two couples that had declined us before midnight were among the observers in the room. I personally negotiated a three-way swap rotation where each person had a partner acceptable to his or her tastes. Soon, the six of us paired up on the king-size bed. I wish I could say my brilliant solution provided great sex for all of us.

Jack had trouble getting hard enough to put on a condom, let alone penetrate his woman. He opted to give her oral pleasure in the hopes his little man would come around. Even after several energetic climaxes for her, he was still completely flaccid. She made a valiant effort to fellate him into a ready state, but after fifteen minutes of trying, he discouraged her from continuing.

My partner was working hard but I sensed his efforts centered on triggering perhaps his third orgasm rather than pleasing me. The result was another mechanical fuck with all the stimulation of a dildo. Swinging was losing its allure for me. I didn't need to fuck so bad that I would let any cock into my vagina in any situation; I preferred a seduction or at least, attraction driven lust. As close as I was to calling it a night, when another man made a move, I gave him a whirl.

I dallied in the bathroom while cleaning up, the last person to dress while Jack waited. I wore only my thong when a handsome man entered the bathroom, excused himself, and began peeing in the toilet next to me.

"I'll wait in the main room," Jack said softly and left me standing almost naked next to a stranger who was holding his dick.

Casting sideways glances, I looked over his cock. He watched me look, turned his hips to afford me a better view, and gave his member several shakes at the end, all for my benefit. I was standing at the sink, drying my face in a towel when he put his arms around both sides of me to wash his hands instead of waiting for me to finish.

I felt his groin leaning lightly against my ass and his forearms wiggling against my waist as he washed. His head was over my right shoulder with his breath caressing my neck as he looked down over my naked breasts. My nipples tingled with excitement. When his blue eyes lifted, they made contact with mine as I looked at his reflection in the mirror.

To dry his hands, he pulled the towel from mine. I saw him staring down at my breasts again as he wiped. His groin pressed more firmly; his arms purposely pinched from both sides to hold me captive.

He had Paul Newman eyes, looked like Tom Selleck, and spoke like Antonio Banderas. "Will your husband mind waiting a while?" He tossed the towel aside before his hands cupped my boobs and started pinching my nipples.

I shook my head no. "Will your wife?" My tittie tingles started spreading throughout my body.

"She's enjoying herself. I left her with some skinny kid fucking the shit out of her with his big cock."

"Ah, the biker. Didn't you fuck his mother as part of the swap?"

His eyes opened wide with astonishment. "Mother? I thought she was just a cougar with a boy-toy. How do you know them?"

"There's only one skinny, very young man here. He's wearing a bright yellow biker outfit. So, his name is Lance and his mother is Stacey. He's one of my fuck buddies and we brought them here to show them the swinger life."

"That's so kinky. Does he fuck his mother?" At this point, he was distracted to the point he stopped caressing me.

"No, but she has some liberal ideas about sex."

"He's so young. How did you get hooked up with him?"

"He's twenty-three, forty years younger than me, but he likes older women. I'm getting tired of talking about me fucking him. How about you fucking me already?"

Pinching my nipples hard was his way of answering. As I gasped in reaction, his head bowed low to my shoulder until his lips settled on my skin. He gave me a soft kiss then moved his mouth over an inch for another. Inch by inch, he crossed my shoulder and climbed up my neck.

His hands began to stray from my breasts, taking swirling treks around my abdomen and down to my thong, but stayed tantalizing above it. The heat of arousal was building in my womb and starting to leak out between my legs. I tried to lift my sex to meet his hands. Tender kisses had reached my ear; his tongue tip slithered into the sensitive opening. I shivered and made an appreciative sound.

He whispered, "Has your husband fucked ... the biker's mother?"

"No, but she sucked him off," I hissed as he kissed the tender area at the base of my neck.

He continued to talk about Stacey but kept it interspersed with lots of attention to my body so that my sexual desire continued to build.

"Yeah, I fucked her." He pushed his hips forward, pressing me against the sink cabinet. "She's a wild woman."

His hips shifted, wiggling his swelling cock between my ass cheeks. "Made me come too fast." He trailed his mouth from my ear out along my jaw toward my chin, encouraging my head to turn to receive a long, sensual kiss. "I like to take my time and fuck reeeeal slowwww."

He pulled back and let his hands slide down my sides, catching my thong and dragging it off my hips. His fingers crossed over the front of my legs and came back up my inner thighs. As his hands neared my sex, they drifted outward, leaving just his index fingers to glide over my labia along my slit, stopping with his palms on my pubic hairs.

"I prefer a nice, trimmed pussy to bare floors." His hands pushed together, his fingers pinching my clit between my labia. "I like to feel the hairs on my nose and cheeks while my tongue tastes her juices." He slid his hands up and down alternately, tightly squeezing and rolling my swollen nub.

"I prefer a tongue showing me what it can do rather than telling me," I panted.

His hands moved to my waist and turned me around to face him. I hopped backwards onto the counter and spread my legs. With my back against the mirror folding me at the waist, I could see my inner labia open and glistening.

His protruding tongue speared right into my vagina then slid up my slit and over my clit. "Delicious," he murmured into my sex.

I grabbed him by the hair. "Don't talk with your mouth full," I scolded, and pulled his face against my pussy.

I squirmed and moaned as his mouth devoured my throbbing jewel. He was masterful, driving me to three quick and intense orgasms.

"Fuck me. Fuck me now," I begged.

He stood up, pulling a condom packet out of his pocket before removing his shorts. His cock sprang out and stood stiffly vertical. Of average length but very fat, his cock was a young twin to my husband's. I was eager to feel his vitality inside me. Taking the condom from him, I rolled it on him as an excuse to handle his hard manhood. It was magnificent.

We were both looking down as he lined up his cock. I felt its wide head spreading my lips. With a slow steady push, he penetrated me until his pubic bone mashed against my labia. I marveled at the familiar feeling filling my vagina.

"Oh, that's so nice," I gushed.

I tensed my Kegels and resisted his withdrawal. He did take his time fucking me. I watched his slow plunges and felt the exquisite waves of pleasure building. I felt the pressure of his cock spreading my vaginal walls synchronized with its disappearance into my wet folds. Every stroke brought forth happy sounds from both of us. I mewed and gasped; he groaned and sighed.

My orgasm surged over me in a blissful wave. My eyelids drooped closed, my head lolled to the side, and my mouth opened in a silent gasp. His thrusts were steady and unrelenting, pushing me to a second and third climax. Our vocal noises became more intense but our rhythm unchanged. I could hear the squishing sound our fucking made.

I sensed the change when he prepared to let his orgasm loose. His thrusts became more energetic and slightly faster but he didn't slam to a stop balls deep. He rose up straighter, almost lifting my hips with his hard cock. The helmet ridge of his cock rubbing my G-spot triggered my last, most intense orgasm. I wrapped my arms around his body and held him tight while my mind soared into the heavens. I don't know how long I floated in the euphoric afterglow, but he was still inside me when I opened my eyes. Our eyes met and we smiled. A sensuous kiss ended our rapturous encounter.

"You were the best of the night for me," I told him. "You made the whole party worth attending. I'm Sandy. What's your name?"

"Steve," he answered and chuckled. "Only now we introduce ourselves. I have to admit, I enjoyed you more than any partner in recent months ... except for my wife, of course. I've learned mature women know now to have sensual sex. It's been a real pleasure, Sandy."

* * * * *

As this chapter's lead-in explains, our activities at this point on this wild night were far from over. Here is a direct link to the chapter that concludes this story: The Biker Ch-07 Be forewarned, the content of the rest of the story demands that the chapter be submitted to the Incest/Taboo category.