This story begins on the Internet. She was not the first married woman I'd seduced, but she was the first to come to me with her husband's encouragement. Of course I didn't know that at the start.
This story begins on the Internet, in a chat room devoted to a purely intellectual pursuit. Innocent enough you might think, but I've learned that such places are havens for those brilliant, beautiful, A-track women whose husbands simply aren't up to the job. It's simple really. At first they grow bored, then restless, then frustrated, but at first they don't want to admit that hubby isn't all they might want – not even, not especially, to themselves.. These are high-energy woman though, used to going places and doing things, and all that sexual energy needs to go somewhere. At first they throw themselves into their career, their education, anything at all to stave off the final realization that their man is second-best. Those pursuits take them, naturally enough, to communities of like-minded people, out here in the electronic haze.
And it works, usually. Oh perhaps there's some light flirtation, with a stranger made safely anonymous by the net. Perhaps there's even cybersex, mutual fantasy spun into text in the empty hours when hubby isn't around. Oh yes, she's thinking of me when she's in bed with him. Oh yes, she's thinking of me when the pressure gets too high and she lets her hands stray lower to do for herself but he simply can't. Oh yes, she dreams that she could have more, be fucked the way she's always wanted it, always needed it, feel, just once, the way a woman should feel when she's with the man. Those are dangerous thoughts, but the Internet is big and the world is bigger, and ninety-nine times in a hundred geography serves as the perfect chastity belt. And she knows this, and it's just so innocent, so really what's the harm?
This story begins on the Internet, with shared interest and some light flirtation, and finally a picture exchange. She sent me her best modeling shot, intending I'm sure only to tease me, as such women love to do. Her dark eyes showed challenge, and I knew that I had to have her. How could I not? I found the seduction remarkably easy, of course I didn't know then how ripe she was for man like me. And of course, she didn't know what I did, which is that she lived just two hours away. Her digital chastity belt had failed, and I was going to fuck her if it was the last thing I ever did.
And once I had her desire, I saw opportunity. Our minds had met, but that was all. We were in one sense very intimate, and in another total strangers. Her fantasies ran dark, and that's something I cannot resist. Our first time together would be intense. She would be blindfolded, handcuffed, spanked. I would fuck her mouth, her pussy, her ass. She would be my slut, my bitch, my cunt, my *****. She had never had any of this, but she wanted it, she needed it, and I was going to give it to her, all it, and all before we even spoke a word. She agreed to everything, and I sent her a map, instructions, told her what to wear, what to do. I could hardly wait to fuck her virgin ass, after she told my how her husband had begged for the privilege, and how she'd always told him no. She asked me to be gentle, told me it was hard to make her come. I gave her reassurance, but I knew she needed the rough road to orgasm, and that was what she was going to get.
I could hardly wait to fuck her, tie her, spank her, but wait is what I had to do. And then I had to wait longer, because she wrecked her car in her haste to see me. It delayed our rendezvous, but there were no injuries, and I had to laugh thinking of hubby dealing with a write-off because she'd been so hot to fuck a stranger. When the day came I was waiting in the park down from my house. I saw her drive in, park where she was supposed to. I texted her. Nearby was a monument, at its base a small black box. She was to find the box, keep her legs straight when she picked it up, take it back to the car before she opened it. I watched from a distance as she did as she was told, admired the way her tight black miniskirt rode up to show her stocking tops as she bent over in her high, high heels. She didn't know where I was, but she knew she was on display, so she took her time because she could. She was gorgeous, and her husband was a lucky man. That thought made me smile, because I was luckier still, and very soon I'd be enjoying what he thought was his alone. In her car, in the box, she found wraparound shades, blacked out inside, and a set of handcuffs. She was to put on the shades, cuff her hands behind her back, and wait.Background - bull, 6'2' and fit, soldier by trade, and scholar by avocation, living in the Midlands but from overseas. I've been enjoying married women for very long time. I love taking another man's territory and making it my own, from the first innocent flirtation to that anguished moan as my cockhead slams into her cervix. I love making her scream and shake and tremble as her body surrenders and her mind goes blank, and her orgasm betrays her wedding vows. I love sending her home to hubby, aching and sore and dripping with my sperm, but oh so deeply satisfied. I live for that, and this thread is for me to recount those adventures to an audience that will appreciate them.
This story begins on the Internet. She was not the first married woman I'd seduced, but she was the first to come to me with her husband's encouragement. Of course I didn't know that at the start.
This story begins on the Internet, in a chat room devoted to a purely intellectual pursuit. Innocent enough you might think, but I've learned that such places are havens for those brilliant, beautiful, A-track women whose husbands simply aren't up to the job. It's simple really. At first they grow bored, then restless, then frustrated, but at first they don't want to admit that hubby isn't all they might want - not even, not especially, to themselves.. These are high-energy woman though, used to going places and doing things, and all that sexual energy needs to go somewhere. At first they throw themselves into their career, their education, anything at all to stave off the final realization that their man is second-best. Those pursuits take them, naturally enough, to communities of like-minded people, out here in the electronic haze.
And it works, usually. Oh perhaps there's some light flirtation, with a stranger made safely anonymous by the net. Perhaps there's even cybersex, mutual fantasy spun into text in the empty hours when hubby isn't around. Oh yes, she's thinking of me when she's in bed with him. Oh yes, she's thinking of me when the pressure gets too high and she lets her hands stray lower to do for herself but he simply can't. Oh yes, she dreams that she could have more, be fucked the way she's always wanted it, always needed it, feel, just once, the way a woman should feel when she's with the man. Those are dangerous thoughts, but the Internet is big and the world is bigger, and ninety-nine times in a hundred geography serves as the perfect chastity belt. And she knows this, and it's just so innocent, so really what's the harm?
This story begins on the Internet, with shared interest and some light flirtation, and finally a picture exchange. She sent me her best modeling shot, intending I'm sure only to tease me, as such women love to do. Her dark eyes showed challenge, and I knew that I had to have her. How could I not? I found the seduction remarkably easy, of course I didn't know then how ripe she was for man like me. And of course, she didn't know what I did, which is that she lived just two hours away. Her digital chastity belt had failed, and I was going to fuck her if it was the last thing I ever did.
(continued)
This story begins on the Internet, in a chat room devoted to a purely intellectual pursuit. Innocent enough you might think, but I've learned that such places are havens for those brilliant, beautiful, A-track women whose husbands simply aren't up to the job. It's simple really. At first they grow bored, then restless, then frustrated, but at first they don't want to admit that hubby isn't all they might want – not even, not especially, to themselves.. These are high-energy woman though, used to going places and doing things, and all that sexual energy needs to go somewhere. At first they throw themselves into their career, their education, anything at all to stave off the final realization that their man is second-best. Those pursuits take them, naturally enough, to communities of like-minded people, out here in the electronic haze.
And it works, usually. Oh perhaps there's some light flirtation, with a stranger made safely anonymous by the net. Perhaps there's even cybersex, mutual fantasy spun into text in the empty hours when hubby isn't around. Oh yes, she's thinking of me when she's in bed with him. Oh yes, she's thinking of me when the pressure gets too high and she lets her hands stray lower to do for herself but he simply can't. Oh yes, she dreams that she could have more, be fucked the way she's always wanted it, always needed it, feel, just once, the way a woman should feel when she's with the man. Those are dangerous thoughts, but the Internet is big and the world is bigger, and ninety-nine times in a hundred geography serves as the perfect chastity belt. And she knows this, and it's just so innocent, so really what's the harm?
This story begins on the Internet, with shared interest and some light flirtation, and finally a picture exchange. She sent me her best modeling shot, intending I'm sure only to tease me, as such women love to do. Her dark eyes showed challenge, and I knew that I had to have her. How could I not? I found the seduction remarkably easy, of course I didn't know then how ripe she was for man like me. And of course, she didn't know what I did, which is that she lived just two hours away. Her digital chastity belt had failed, and I was going to fuck her if it was the last thing I ever did.
And once I had her desire, I saw opportunity. Our minds had met, but that was all. We were in one sense very intimate, and in another total strangers. Her fantasies ran dark, and that's something I cannot resist. Our first time together would be intense. She would be blindfolded, handcuffed, spanked. I would fuck her mouth, her pussy, her ass. She would be my slut, my bitch, my cunt, my *****. She had never had any of this, but she wanted it, she needed it, and I was going to give it to her, all it, and all before we even spoke a word. She agreed to everything, and I sent her a map, instructions, told her what to wear, what to do. I could hardly wait to fuck her virgin ass, after she told my how her husband had begged for the privilege, and how she'd always told him no. She asked me to be gentle, told me it was hard to make her come. I gave her reassurance, but I knew she needed the rough road to orgasm, and that was what she was going to get.
I could hardly wait to fuck her, tie her, spank her, but wait is what I had to do. And then I had to wait longer, because she wrecked her car in her haste to see me. It delayed our rendezvous, but there were no injuries, and I had to laugh thinking of hubby dealing with a write-off because she'd been so hot to fuck a stranger. When the day came I was waiting in the park down from my house. I saw her drive in, park where she was supposed to. I texted her. Nearby was a monument, at its base a small black box. She was to find the box, keep her legs straight when she picked it up, take it back to the car before she opened it. I watched from a distance as she did as she was told, admired the way her tight black miniskirt rode up to show her stocking tops as she bent over in her high, high heels. She didn't know where I was, but she knew she was on display, so she took her time because she could. She was gorgeous, and her husband was a lucky man. That thought made me smile, because I was luckier still, and very soon I'd be enjoying what he thought was his alone. In her car, in the box, she found wraparound shades, blacked out inside, and a set of handcuffs. She was to put on the shades, cuff her hands behind her back, and wait.Background - bull, 6'2' and fit, soldier by trade, and scholar by avocation, living in the Midlands but from overseas. I've been enjoying married women for very long time. I love taking another man's territory and making it my own, from the first innocent flirtation to that anguished moan as my cockhead slams into her cervix. I love making her scream and shake and tremble as her body surrenders and her mind goes blank, and her orgasm betrays her wedding vows. I love sending her home to hubby, aching and sore and dripping with my sperm, but oh so deeply satisfied. I live for that, and this thread is for me to recount those adventures to an audience that will appreciate them.
This story begins on the Internet. She was not the first married woman I'd seduced, but she was the first to come to me with her husband's encouragement. Of course I didn't know that at the start.
This story begins on the Internet, in a chat room devoted to a purely intellectual pursuit. Innocent enough you might think, but I've learned that such places are havens for those brilliant, beautiful, A-track women whose husbands simply aren't up to the job. It's simple really. At first they grow bored, then restless, then frustrated, but at first they don't want to admit that hubby isn't all they might want - not even, not especially, to themselves.. These are high-energy woman though, used to going places and doing things, and all that sexual energy needs to go somewhere. At first they throw themselves into their career, their education, anything at all to stave off the final realization that their man is second-best. Those pursuits take them, naturally enough, to communities of like-minded people, out here in the electronic haze.
And it works, usually. Oh perhaps there's some light flirtation, with a stranger made safely anonymous by the net. Perhaps there's even cybersex, mutual fantasy spun into text in the empty hours when hubby isn't around. Oh yes, she's thinking of me when she's in bed with him. Oh yes, she's thinking of me when the pressure gets too high and she lets her hands stray lower to do for herself but he simply can't. Oh yes, she dreams that she could have more, be fucked the way she's always wanted it, always needed it, feel, just once, the way a woman should feel when she's with the man. Those are dangerous thoughts, but the Internet is big and the world is bigger, and ninety-nine times in a hundred geography serves as the perfect chastity belt. And she knows this, and it's just so innocent, so really what's the harm?
This story begins on the Internet, with shared interest and some light flirtation, and finally a picture exchange. She sent me her best modeling shot, intending I'm sure only to tease me, as such women love to do. Her dark eyes showed challenge, and I knew that I had to have her. How could I not? I found the seduction remarkably easy, of course I didn't know then how ripe she was for man like me. And of course, she didn't know what I did, which is that she lived just two hours away. Her digital chastity belt had failed, and I was going to fuck her if it was the last thing I ever did.
(continued)
