Sexually Liberated At Last

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Sexually Liberated At Last
After 20 years of playing the dutiful and faithful wife, I’ve been sexually liberated, and about time! I am now getting laid by some younger stud every week and having serial orgasms. Met hubby in school at 18, only kissing and a few feels before marriage at 18, immediately pregnant with the twins and fulltime motherhood, into the workforce part-time about six years ago, then converted to full-time three years ago when the twins left home. Hubby is a steady provider whose passion is playing for his local amateur football club. He’s always busy Friday nights with either a game or at the pub with his team mates.

Sex-wise, I was a virgin at marriage and faithful until about a year ago. Hubby has average size equipment, but it was enough to give me orgasms right from the start, since I am highly orgasmic. After I’m turned on with either fingers or tongue, less than a minute of hard rapid fucking is all I need to experience an encounter with God. In the beginning, hubby was very thoughtful and would hold off coming so he could toss me off at least two or three times but, over the years, this has been reduced to him coming on the first und. I still have an orgasm, but I want to have the serial orgasms I had in the early years. Talked to hubby about it a few times, and it would get better for a while, but would fairly quickly revert to a single encounter.

During tea breaks with the women in my age group at work, I heard stories of some of them, including married ones, going to a pub on Friday after work, dancing and being bought drinks by younger blokes, and going somewhere nearby with one or more of them, such as to the dark part of the pub car park or just outback, and getting fucked on the bonnet of a car or bent over a rubbish bin. Such stories were highly erotic and made me so horny that hubby would get a particularly hot and wet wife in bed that night.

That’s as far as it went until about a year ago when a girlfriend reported seeing hubby do just that one Friday evening while at a pub with his team mates. She and her girlfriend saw him take a woman out back, followed them, and saw him tip her over a rubbish bin and do her ‘doggie’ – and not just once, but several times. When the girlfriend separately confirmed this story to me, my world collapsed. First came the terrible hurt, then the incensed anger, and finally the overwhelming desire for revenge.

I figured ‘what’s sauce for the gander, is sauce for the goose’, plus revenge played well with my long standing desire for more orgasms. The next Friday, I came home and changed into a somewhat more alluring outfit, but not too over the top, and drove to a pub about 30 miles away so the chance of running into someone who might know me was minimized. I got there about 7 in the evening, a bit early, but there were already a few blokes there. It took about an hour of first timer nervousness in spite of my anger and desire for revenge, plus a couple of drinks, for me the get the courage to give out a come hither look.

Soon a somewhat younger and good looking bloke came over and chatted me up, noticing the wedding ring I had neglected to take off. He asked me to dance when a slow number came on and soon steered me to a somewhat darker corner. He wasn’t pushy as we held each other just tightly enough to feel each other’s attributes. My dance partner sensed my nervousness and asked if I had done this before. I asked what he meant and he said my obvious nervousness suggested this was my first time on the pull. It’s a good thing he asked this in a kindly fashion, otherwise I would have just run off the dance floor and left. I nodded a ‘yes’ and told him why I was there.

He listened patiently, then told me I shouldn’t want my first time to be out back behind the pub. He said his flat was close by and we could go there. We walked the short distance and went in. He slowly undressed me, gently caressing my body as he did so, paying particular attention to my lady parts, then lay me on the bed. I watched as he quickly undressed, paying particular attention to his man part, which certainly looked adequate for the task. By this time, my womanly center was swollen and wet, all nervousness was forgotten.

As I watched him climb onto the bed, I opened my legs and raised my knees. He hovered over me, and I guided his thick cock to my entrance and levered the head just inside. He pushed a little ways in, then paused and asked if he was hurting me. I smiled and told him truthfully his thick cock felt wonderful. He slid the rest of the way in and began stroking me with a steady rhythm. After a few seconds, I told him I liked it hard and fast. He grinned and immediately complied. I wrapped my limbs around him as he pounded into me, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filling the room.

My passion rose very quickly and in less than a minute, I cried out, “I’m coming! I’m coming! Fuck me harder!!” He kept on fucking me as I rode out my orgasm, then he slowed his pace when he felt me coming down from the heights. I loosened my grip on him, expecting him to stop stroking, but he didn’t. He just continued steadily fucking me. I soon arched up into him with a renewal of passion.

He took the hint and speeded up. I tightened my grip on his body again and soon felt another climax quickly building. I silently flung my head back with closed eyes and he asked if I was getting close. I gasped out that I was almost there. He pounded into me hard and fast, and I shouted out another orgasm. When he felt me finaly start to come down, he again slowed the pace.

He repeated this cycle several more times, giving me an orgasm each time. I soon lost count. Men seem to count such things because he later proudly told it was seven times. I had my serial orgasms back! And with a thick cock that stretched me just the right amount to give me intense ones.

I stayed with him for another hour or so, during which time he fingered me to a come, ate my pussy to a come several times, and came in me twice. At the end, I was wrung out, the entrance to my pussy was sore, and my legs felt like rubber. He actually had to pull me up off the bed by my arms when it was time to get dressed. He walked me back to my car and said he had never before had such an accomplished and sexy lady, and would love for us to do it again, telling me he usually was at that pub on Friday nights.

During the next several days, my anger at hubby abated somewhat, most probably because I had made the first installment of my payback for his infidelity and because I had mind blowing sex with a master. For the first time, I realized that getting laid, especially when it was good, forgave a multitude of sins.

I returned the next Friday, reconnected with my younger lover, and let him entertain me his flat, this time for over two hours. He used his fingers and mouth on me at the beginning of our marathon session, then gave me a quite lengthy string of orgasms in missionary. We experimented with me on top several times, then finished up with him pounding me for what seemed like hours from the rear. Neither of us could count the number of orgasms I had, and I could barely walk back to my car.

The week following, my anger at hubby subsided considerably. At first, I intended to exact my revenge sexually, then divorce him for his infidelity and his stupidity of not realizing what a sexual treasure he had in his own bedroom. Then, as I put our respective adulteries into perspective, I began to realize that, except for our respective Friday night adventures, our marriage was a good one. The day-to-day living was comfortable, even enjoyable, and on a non-sexual level we had become good friends over the years. I decided to put thoughts of divorce on hold.

Over the next two months or so, I alternated Friday nights between my younger lover and striking out on my own in other pubs, seeing what was out there. This proved to be interesting in a negative sort of way as I discovered that fucking bent over a rubbish bin behind a pub or on the bonnet of a car in the car park out back was less than desirable for many reasons. It was not conducive to getting serial orgasms, not the most comfortable of venues, and subject to the close up scrutiny from passersby. From then on, it going back to a nearby flat or office, or moving on to another candidate. The other thing was that it was hard to find another man as skillful as my young lover. It seems that really good lovers are not as common as one would think, but that’s only one woman’s opinion.

My Friday night pattern for the last six months or so is to meet my young lover at his flat and have a fabulous session of uninhibited sex with enough orgasms to satisfy a harlot; but, about once a month or so, usually when he is not available on a Friday night, I strike out on my own at another pub and try someone else. I now have enough experience on the pull to be able to winnow out the ones who probably are all flash but no substance in bed, and select higher probability candidates. These tend to be at least in their late 20s, which is young enough for me at close to 40.

I’ve now had enough different men, some of whom have been very good in bed, that I appreciate my younger lover even more than at first. Hubby has yet to tumble onto my Friday night adventures but, if he ever does, he has no complaint coming because of his own conduct. But if it’s a problem for him, divorce is still an option, more so now that I’ve been promoted in my job with more prospects in the future.

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