MY HOTWIFE JOURNEY Pt. 57

“14 cocks in 14 days- I locked Hubby in the cupboard while I got fucked”

So let me just start by saying… these last couple of days? I have had some really good cock. Like, the kind that makes you remember why you started doing this in the first place. But opening up my dating apps again after a little break? Fuck me, I didn't realize how much I missed it. The flirting, the anticipation, the hours of scrolling and chatting – yeah, it eats up a few hours a day at least, but honestly? I've been loving every second of it.

But then his picture showed up.

And suddenly I wasn't the one being chased. I was the one doing the chasing.

Tattooed. Built. That look in his eye like he knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what he wanted. And what he wanted was me. I mean, fuck… he was exactly what I needed. Exactly what my pussy needed.

It didn't take long for us to vibe. You know that feeling when the conversation just flows and you're already wet before he's even said anything properly filthy? Yeah, that. We booked a date almost immediately. The next day, to be specific. No messing about. No weeks of back and forth. Just pure, horny efficiency.

I told Hubby to take the day off work. The stars had aligned – all the kiddos were in their holiday programs – so we had a completely free day ahead of us. No interruptions. No excuses.

We grabbed a coffee first, the three of us… well, the two of us and my nervous, excited little cuck of a husband sitting there knowing what was coming. I could see it in his eyes. That mix of dread and desperate arousal. Pathetic and beautiful all at once.

Then we made our way to the hotel.

Ready for our adventure.

As soon as we got into that hotel room, the energy shifted. You know that moment when the door clicks shut and suddenly it's game on? Yeah. My new friend didn't waste any time – he sat straight down on the edge of the bed, legs spread just enough to let me know he was ready. Confident. Relaxed. Like he'd done this a hundred times before.

Hubby got himself comfortable in the corner and started undressing me, his fingers fumbling with the zip of my dress like the nervous little cuck he is. I stepped out of it and stood there in my lingerie, but honestly? I wasn't in the mood for a slow tease. I wasn't messing around. I wanted that cock in my mouth.

I walked straight up to him, my bare feet silent on the hotel carpet, and he pulled me in by the waist. Our lips met and fuck – I felt it immediately. The cold little click of metal against my tongue. A tongue piercing. I actually moaned into his mouth when I realized. That was going to be fun. So much fun.

But I didn't wait around. I'm not that girl who needs to be seduced. I know what I want and I go for it. I dropped to my knees right there between his legs, the carpet rough against my skin, and got straight to the thing I love most in this world – the reveal.

I slid his pants down slowly, my fingers dragging along his thighs, feeling the muscle underneath. Then his underwear. And out it popped.

The. Perfect. Cock.

I'm not even exaggerating. I've seen a lot of cocks – I mean, a lot – but this one? This one made me smile and let out this breathless little laugh because I genuinely couldn't believe my luck. Not too long, just the right length, but thick. Properly girthy. The kind of thickness that makes your jaw ache just looking at it. And he wasn't even fully hard yet. He was already thicker than Hubby. I mean, significantly thicker. Poor Hubby. Lucky me.

I wrapped my hand around the base and just admired it for a second. Then I did what I do best.

I started sucking.

And when I say I give the sloppiest, messiest, most enthusiastic blowjobs… I mean it. I don't do those polite little licks. I get my whole mouth involved. I let the spit build up until it's dripping down my chin, coating his shaft, making everything slick and wet and noisy. I use my tongue – flat and wide along the underside, then pointed and flicking at that sensitive little spot just under the head. I hollow my cheeks and take him deep, letting him feel the back of my throat, holding him there while I look up with watery eyes.

I worked my way down. Kissing. Licking. Sucking. I took my time with his balls, pulling them gently into my mouth one at a time while my hand kept stroking that thick, wet cock. I pushed him backwards onto the bed so he was lying flat, and I climbed up between his legs, settling in like I had nowhere else to be. I was in my element. Completely lost in it.

Then I pulled off for just a second, my lips slick and swollen, and looked over at Hubby who was sitting there watching with his mouth half open. I smiled – that wicked little smile he knows so well – and said, "I don't even want to share it."

Hubby looked confused. Adorably confused. His little cuck brain couldn't quite process what I meant.

But then it hit him.

Our new friend was eager. Very eager. And he wanted both of us to suck his cock.

Then I told Hubby exactly what to do.

"Get on the floor and lick his balls while I suck his cock."

No hesitation. No discussion. Just obedience. Hubby dropped down beside me and got straight to work, his tongue lapping at those heavy balls while I wrapped my lips around that thick shaft again. We found our rhythm quickly, the two of us working as a team, interchanging seamlessly. I'd take him deep in my throat while Hubby worshipped his balls, then I'd pull off and slide down, letting Hubby take the tip between his nervous little lips while I sucked each ball into my mouth, rolling them gently with my tongue.

And then we'd meet in the middle.

Both of us licking up opposite sides of that perfect cock until our mouths met at the top. Kissing each other with his dick pressed between our lips. Tasting him. Tasting each other. It was filthy and beautiful and exactly what I wanted.

I glanced up at my bull, my eyes meeting his, and the look on his face? Pure fucking heaven. His head was tilted back, mouth slightly open, chest rising and falling. He was loving every second of it. And so was I.

But after a while, he'd had enough of our mouths. He wanted more.

He pushed me forward onto the bed. Not gently. Firmly. The way I like it. I landed face down, ass up, my cheek pressed against the crisp white sheets, and before I could even catch my breath, his face was buried between my legs from behind.

And that tongue ring.

Fuck.

I felt it immediately – that cold little metal stud flicking against my tightest hole. He circled my asshole slowly at first, teasing me, letting me feel every bump of that piercing before dragging it down through my soaking wet pussy and then back up again. Over and over. Ass to pussy. Pussy to ass. My whole body was trembling, my hands gripping the sheets, little moans escaping my lips that I couldn't control.

Boy, he was good. Really fucking good.

Hubby saw his moment and crawled onto the bed in front of me, leaning down to press his lips against mine. He kissed me deeply, his tongue sliding into my mouth while our new friend continued to eat my ass like it was his last meal. I moaned into Hubby's mouth, my eyes rolling back, completely lost in the sensation of being worshipped from both ends.

One man's tongue in my mouth. Another man's tongue in my ass. This is what being a hotwife is all about.

Then without warning – no countdown, no "are you ready" – he got up and positioned himself behind me. I felt the head of his cock pressing against my entrance, and then he slid straight into my soaking wet pussy in one smooth motion.

But something felt different. Not bad. Just… different.

And then I realized – he'd pushed inside me when he wasn't even fully hard yet. I could feel him inside me, thick but soft, filling me in this strange, intimate way that I'd never experienced before. But then… then… I felt him grow.

He swelled inside me. Expanding. Hardening. And within seconds, that stretch hit me.

Fuck.

My back arched instinctively, my spine curving like a cat, pushing my ass higher and my face deeper into the mattress. I was presenting myself to him like a good girl – his good girl – and he took full advantage. He started fucking me from behind. Hard. Deep. Every thrust deliberate and powerful, slamming into me with a rhythm that was absolutely perfect. My mind went blank. Everything else – Hubby, the hotel, the world outside – just faded away. All I could focus on was his cock. The way it filled me. The way it stretched me. The way it hit places deep inside that made my toes curl.

After a while, he decided he wanted to see my face.

He flipped me over with ease – and I mean ease, like I weighed nothing – and climbed on top of me. His body pressed against mine, his hips finding their rhythm again as he fucked me into the mattress. But this time he was in control of everything. He moved my body however he wanted. Folded me in half, my knees pressed up against my chest. Pushed my legs back until my ankles were by my ears. Just manhandled me exactly the way I like it. I was completely at his mercy, and I loved every second of it.

He could feel how wet I was. I mean, he must have felt it – the slickness, the heat, the way my pussy was practically dripping down my thighs. So he pulled out. Just… pulled out. Left me empty and aching and desperate.

Then he used one hand to push his fingers into my mouth. I sucked them greedily, tasting myself on his skin, my eyes locked on his. And his other hand? That hand slid down and started fingering my soaking wet pussy. Two fingers. Then three. Curling inside me, finding that spot, working me with the kind of precision that told me he knew exactly what he was doing.

I knew what was about to come. I could feel it building – that pressure, that heat, that uncontrollable tightening in my core.

And before I knew it, I was squirting everywhere.

I mean everywhere. Soaking through the hotel sheets. Drenching his hand. Spraying all over my own stomach and thighs. My whole body convulsed as wave after wave crashed through me, and I couldn't do anything except lie there and let it happen, moaning like a whore while this tattooed stranger wrung every last drop out of my soaking pussy.

I grabbed the nearest pillow and pressed it against my face, muffling my own screams as I continued to squirt. My whole body was shaking, convulsing, my pussy pulsing and spraying like it had a mind of its own. The pillow soaked up my moans – those deep, guttural, pornographic sounds that I couldn't control even if I tried.

When it finally subsided, we both just… laughed. That breathless, post-orgasm giggle where you're both a little bit shocked at what just happened. He looked down at the absolute mess I'd made of the sheets and grinned. Proud of himself. And honestly? He deserved to be.

Then he slid back inside me.

No warning. No gentle easing in. Just that thick cock burying itself back into my married pussy while I was still sensitive and dripping. He sat up as he fucked me, propping himself on his knees, and watched. He actually watched his own cock sliding in and out of me, mesmerized by the way my pussy lips gripped him, stretched around his thickness. There's something so filthy about a man who enjoys the view of his own dick penetrating a married woman. And I was that married woman. His for the taking.

Then he reached down and grabbed my tits.

Not gently. He squeezed them hard, his fingers digging into my flesh, and suddenly my milk started spraying everywhere. I'm talking proper streams, arcing through the air, splashing against his chest and mine. He smiled – this wicked, satisfied grin – and then leaned down to taste it. He licked it off his fingers first, then straight from my nipple, sucking hard while more milk flooded his mouth. He pulled back, licking his lips, genuinely loving how much had come out. Like he couldn't get enough of it.

We kissed for a little while after that. Slower. Deeper. Our bodies still tangled together, my milk and my squirt and our sweat all mixing between us. It was intimate and filthy all at once.

Then I laid him back on the bed. My turn again.

I climbed on top of him and went straight back to work on his cock, my lips wrapping around that perfect thickness while my ass stayed high in the air. Fully exposed. Fully presented. And Hubby, my sweet little cuck, didn't need an invitation. Before I knew it, his face was buried between my legs from behind, his tongue lapping at my freshly fucked pussy. Tasting everything. My juices. His cum. The evidence of what another man had just done to his wife. He ate me out like he was grateful for the privilege.

But after a few minutes, I pushed Hubby away. Not now. This wasn't about him.

It was about returning the favor.

I pushed my new friend's legs up into the air, folding him in half the same way he'd done to me. And then I worked my tongue down. Down his shaft. Over his balls. Lower. Lower. Until I reached his tight little asshole.

I started slowly. Just the tip of my tongue circling him, teasing the rim, letting him feel the wetness and the warmth. I traced little patterns around the outside, flicking gently, never quite pushing in – just building the anticipation. His breathing changed immediately. Got heavier. Shakier.

Then I flattened my tongue and licked a long, slow stripe from his balls all the way up to his hole, letting the spit pool there before I pointed my tongue and pushed inside.

I mean inside.

I buried my tongue deep in his asshole, swirling it around, feeling him clench and then relax against my mouth. I fucked him with my tongue, in and out, slow and deliberate, while my hand stroked his cock. I pulled back just enough to spit on his hole – a thick, messy glob – and then went right back in, working him open, tasting him, worshipping him.

I looked up and met his eyes.

And there it was. That look. His eyes rolling back into his head, his mouth falling open, his whole body surrendering to the sensation of my tongue buried deep in his asshole. He was in heaven. Absolute fucking heaven. And I was the one who put him there.

I knew exactly what he wanted next. I could see it in his eyes – that hungry, desperate look that said get on top of me right now. So I did.

I jumped on top of him and finally got to ride that perfect cock.

And I mean I rode him. Not some lazy, half-hearted grind. I'm talking full-on, bouncing-on-his-dick-like-my-life-depended-on-it riding. My hips rolled and slammed down onto him, my tits bouncing in his face, milk still leaking from my nipples and splashing against his chest with every thrust. I braced my hands on his tattooed shoulders and used him like he was my personal fuck toy. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the hotel room – wet, obscene, rhythmic. I threw my head back and just let myself go, chasing that second orgasm that was building deep in my core.

And then it hit me.

Harder than the first one. My whole body seized up, my pussy clenching around his cock like a vice, and I screamed – no pillow this time, just pure unfiltered ecstasy echoing off the walls. I collapsed forward onto his chest, my face buried in his neck, riding out the waves until my legs stopped shaking.

When I finally came back to earth, I lifted my head and smiled down at him. This big, dopey, post-orgasm grin that said fuck me, that was incredible. He smiled back. We both knew.

Then I jumped off.

Just like that. Hopped off his cock, still dripping, still trembling, and walked straight over to Hubby. My legs were wobbly, my hair was a mess, and I could feel cum and squirt running down my inner thighs. I grabbed his hand.

This was something I had wanted to do for a long long time.

I led him across the room towards the cupboard – that cheap hotel wardrobe with the sliding door. Hubby looked confused for a second, then his eyes went wide as he realized what was happening. I slid the door open, the hangers rattling inside, and without a word I pushed him in.

"Are you serious?" he asked, half laughing, half panicking.

"I sure am," I replied, laughing the entire time. Not a cruel laugh. A genuinely delighted, this-is-so-fucking-hot laugh.

I made sure the sliding door slid shut with a satisfying click. Hubby was inside. In the dark. Locked away like a toy I was done playing with. He could probably hear everything through the thin wood – every moan, every slap of skin, every filthy word. But he couldn't see. He couldn't touch. He couldn't do anything except stand there and imagine what his wife was doing with another man.

And then I went back to the bed.

I headed straight back to the bed, and there he was – lying on his back, that perfect cock standing to attention, waiting for me. I didn't hesitate. I dropped down and instantly went back to sucking him, taking him deep into my mouth, tasting the mix of my own pussy and his pre-cum on my tongue. I was insatiable. I couldn't get enough.

Then he did something I didn't expect.

He turned around. Rolled over onto his stomach and got up on all fours, presenting himself to me. His ass in the air. His cock hanging heavy between his legs.

I knew exactly what that meant.

I didn't even take a second to think about it. I grabbed those muscular cheeks, spread them apart, and went straight back to eating his ass. My tongue dove in immediately – no teasing this time, no gentle build-up. Just straight in, burying myself in him, licking and sucking and fucking him with my tongue while he moaned into the pillow. I loved every second of it. The taste of him. The way hisbody responded. The sheer filthiness of having my tongue buried in another man's ass while my husband was locked in a cupboard three feet away.

Speaking of which…

"Hubby!" I called out, pulling my mouth away just long enough to be heard. "I am eating his ass and he is on all fours!"

I knew that would destroy him. In the best way. I could picture him in there, in the dark, his hand wrapped around his pathetic little cock, frantically wanking while his mind conjured up the image of his wife rimming another man. A man who was on all fours for me. A man who was moaning because of what my tongue could do.

Then I saw it – his head poking out of the cupboard, trying to sneak a peek. Desperate little cuck couldn't help himself.

I jumped up immediately, marched over, and slammed the door shut again.

"Nope," I laughed. "Not for you."

I got back on the bed and my bull immediately reached for my tits. He squeezed them hard, both hands, and watched as my milk sprayed out in thick streams. Then he leaned down and sucked it all clean, his mouth working each nipple, draining me, swallowing every drop like he was starving for it. The sensation sent little electric shocks straight down to my pussy.

Then he pushed me onto my back.

No words. No warning. Just those strong hands pinning me down as he positioned himself between my legs and fucked me.

Harder than before. Faster than before. His hips slamming into me with a kind of urgency that told me exactly what was coming. The headboard banged against the wall. My tits bounced with every thrust. The wet sounds of his cock pounding my used pussy filled the room.

I knew what was coming.

He was about to cum. And I wanted every last drop.

And when he did – when he finally came – I felt every last drop.

He buried himself deep inside me, his cock pulsing, and shot stream after stream of hot cum straight into my married pussy. I could feel it coating my walls, filling me up, that warm wetness spreading deep inside. He groaned against my neck, his whole body tensing, and I wrapped my legs around him, holding him there, making sure he emptied every single drop into me. Not a single drop wasted. I wanted it all.

And then, once again, he did something I didn't expect.

As soon as he finished, he kissed me. Deep and passionate, his tongue sliding against mine, his breathing still heavy. Then he pulled out and crawled down between my legs. I propped myself up on my elbows, watching, and my jaw practically dropped.

Continued in next post...