Jazz Swinging - Sex Stories

Jazz Swinging

... own self by the vision of lovely, scantily-clad Hotwifeliness returning his bright smile with interest.

My prestissimo barstool about-face brought him so close I could catch subtle hints of an expensive, pleasant-smelling cologne or aftershave; his overall affect was of confident, entirely charming manliness, leaving me breathless with desire and anticipation. Who WAS this attractive, sexy stranger? How DARE he beguile a jaded, experienced trollop like me so thoroughly, so effortlessly, before either of us had said a single word? How had he penetrated my womanly defenses? Speaking of, how fast could I get naked for him, lie down, spread my legs, and have him penetrate ME?

Although by then I was no longer a newcomer to the ranks of confirmed Slutwives, and I had freely confessed how much I enjoyed my newly-awakened sexual wildness and freedom to both my husband and the men he had shared me out with--at this point, mainly just our friends Tom and Zach, excepting the amazing trip with Zach and his wife Janelle to the Glory Hole bookstore I've recounted here before, along with our likewise-gratifying topless-bar Amateur night--my emotions were still somewhat conflicted and confused about all this. Even in the middle of the festivities, I would now and then feel a twinge of doubt, almost guilt, over the forbidden acts I was indulging in.

Not that I was hindered by those feelings, of course. Honestly, I enjoyed them too; on the infrequent occasions they'd put in an ...

... appearance in my head, I noticed how much stronger my orgasm was, how much less time it took to surge through me. Before long, I came to appreciate those feelings, then to actually look forward to them. They soon became another important part of the thrill, a welcome enhancement of my Slutwife journey.

But not today, or at least not yet, anyway. I leaned in closer still, pressing my bodacious boobs against First New Stud's chest and made a try at speaking coherently to him, something assertive, inviting, and brassy, letting him know I was no run-of-the-mill bar babe, no ordinary temptress. Unfortunately, all I managed to gasp out was a weakly-moaned "Yes! Yes! Yes!" into his ear. I was mortified by my atypical discomposure, particularly since I had been in full-bore Predatory Slut mode up til that moment, reduced from seductress extraordinaire to gibbering, clumsy buffoon by a pretty face.

I put a hand over my mouth, astonished at this sudden belly-flop into tongue-tied sexual neuroticism. Try as I might, there was absolutely nothing at all in my mind in that delicate moment but an overwhelming desire for this stranger's cock--I wanted it, badly, more than I'd ever wanted anything in my entire life! I hoped it was a big one. The instant that thought appeared, it was brushed aside as just ridiculous. I mean, really now, how on earth could a specimen as perfect as this be anything BUT deliciously well-hung? It was impossible!!

Before I even realized I was doing it, my other ...