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When I decided to tell my story to the Literotica community, I was originally going to post this story in the “Hot Wife” section. But that would not be accurate, because my husband never consented to my extramarital affairs. That makes me a cheater, not a hot wife.
That I would refer to myself as a cheater seems strange. We had married later than our friends, I was 30 and he was 35. By the time we married, our friends were beginning their divorces, many due to their own extramarital affairs. I would never believe I could be unfaithful after watching all the harm those affairs caused.
My husband and I both travel for business although my husband travels much more than me. In the beginning, we had fun and would arrange our trips to meet in some city and spend a long weekend there. Or we would arrange our trips so that we would be home at the same time for a week or two. It seemed we would fuck like rabbits whenever we got the chance to be together again.
Somewhere over the first ten years of marriage all of that seemed to slowly fade away to be replaced by numerous arguments that killed the great sex we use to have. I began to enjoy the time he was away and dread when he came home. I missed the sex, but I was usually so angry with him that I no longer found him sexually appealing. By most accounts he was a good husband, he made good money and was never abusive or controlling. Twice I hired a private detective to see if he was seeing someone on one of his trips and both detectives assured me there was nothing there. So, he was also faithful as far as I knew.
My first affair occurred a week after I turned 40 and looking back, I can find no excuses. I was on the last night of a business trip to Chicago when my husband called to complain about something stupid. Like most of our arguments, this one turned into an argument about arguing. I dreaded having to return home the next day. Why did he have to spoil my last night in Chicago with his god damn phone call. My 40th birthday came and went without a word.
I decided to head down to the hotel bar and have a few drinks, my flight the next day was not until the afternoon so there was time to recover from the hangover. I did not bother getting dressed, just threw on a t-shirt and some loose shorts, leaving my bra on the bed. The thought of a fling never entered my mind.
Hotel bars were not my favorite place to be when I was by myself, too many men trying to hit on me. Usually, I would wave my wedding ring in the air, and they would leave me alone. Once the bartender at the Drake Hotel in Chicago, had to intervene when some asshole did not get the hint. Fortunately, the bar at the Drake on this night was empty, just the bartender, a waiter and me. I was on my second martini when tall, dark and handsome walked in and he walked straight over to me.
I was about to wave my wedding ring when he said, “If you prefer to drink alone, please say so. If not, may I buy you a drink?”
My martini glass was almost empty so I said I would have another drink. Three martinis is usually my limit.
Talk, dark and handsome was also charming and funny. He introduced himself as Mike and we talked about a thousand things and we both laughed. It had been so long since I had that type of conversation with someone, especially a man. He never did anything to suggest he wanted anything more than a polite conversation. After my third martini, I said good night and headed to my room, leaving him at the bar. But I wanted more. As I approached the elevator, I changed my mind and my life. I went back to the bar and had another drink with him.
The conversation picked up where it left off, only now there were thoughts of sex were running through my head and I do not know why. I had not thought of another man sexually since long before I got married. Mike’s eyes began to wonder down to my chest where my hard nipples were poking through my t-shirt. His laid his hand on my bare thigh. He was nowhere near the promised land but only my husband has touched that skin in over a decade. There was an impulse to remove his hand from my thigh, but I didn’t.
We continued that way through my fourth martini. There was more touching, and Mike’s hand was creeping up my thigh and under the hem of my shorts. I could feel his fingers inches away from my pussy. As I drained my glass, I mentioned it was time for me to head back to my room.
He said, “If you prefer to go alone, please say so. If not, may I join you?”
I grabbed his hand and led him to the elevator. On the way up, he suggested that we go to his room. I was okay with that, but I need to “freshen up” in my room first. He handed me the spare key card for his room. There wasn’t a lot I was planning to do in my room except to pee. But I changed my underwear and brushed my teeth. All the way to his room, which was four doors down from mine, I wondered what the hell I was doing. Would he try and kiss me? Could I kiss am man other than my husband?
Using the key card, I unlocked the door, gave a quick knock and entered his room. The irrational thought Bolu Escort that someone might see me had crossed my mind. Mike’s room was dark with just a small glow of light coming from under the bathroom door and the city lights shining through his windows. I could see Mike sitting in an armchair sipping a martini. I was nervous, wondering how I was going to kiss a man other than my husband.
“Please just stand right there,” said Mike.
“Take two steps closer.”
I did as he asked. I am not sure what to expect when I entered a strange man’s hotel room, but this was not it.
“Take off your top.”
Again, I did as he asked and stood a few feet away from him with my tits exposed. I realized that although I could make out a man sitting in the armchair, I could not make out his features so I could not be certain it was Mike. I certainly recognized his voice, at least I thought I did.
“Remove your shorts.”
My shorts joined my t-shirt in a pile on the floor. I had to remove my sneakers to get the shorts off.
After letting me stand there for several minutes, Mike asked me to turn around. So, I did and presented him with my panty covered ass. My husband always worshipped my ass.
“Turn around and cup your breasts.”
I turned to face Mike as my hands came up to my breasts. First, I gently squeezed them and then started playing with my nipples. I had no idea if Mike was enjoying the show.
“Slide your hand down the front of your panties and play with your pussy.”
My hands found my pussy soaking wet as I masturbated in front of someone for the first time in my life. After cupping and squeezing my mound for a few minutes, I began to slide my finger inside my pussy and then rub my clit. My other hand continued to squeeze and pull on my nipple.
“Do not come,” said Mike.
I did not realize how close I was until he said I couldn’t and realized that Mike had found a way to avoid that awkward first kiss.
“Stop and remove your panties.”
My panties joined my shorts and t-shirt on the floor.
“Come closer, spread your lips and show me your pussy.”
I walked over, pulling my lips apart and arched my back so that he could see more of me. After examining my pussy for several minutes, he asked me to turn around, placing my ass inches from his face. I felt him stand up behind me and then his hands were on me, squeezing my tit and wrapping his hand around mine, pushing my fingers deeper into my cunt. His lips began to nibble my neck and earlobes, sending shivers down my body. In the reflection of the hotel windows, I watched another man’s hands playing with my naked body.
It took a few minutes for me to realize he was gently pushing me towards the bed. The man was driving me crazy. After pushing me onto the bed, he told me to roll onto my back and spread my legs. I was trying to comply, but he kept telling me to spread them further. I had my knees pulled back as far as they could go and then he wanted me to spread my lips again. Once again, I was holding myself wide open for him, wondering how deep he could see into me.
Mike leaned down and began to kiss and lick my thighs, his hot breath was making me wet, and I could sense him smelling me. And then his tongue went to work, first on my rectum, licking from there up to my clit, his hands took over spreading me even further. On one of those licks, he bit my clit, just hard enough to send me into an orgasm. Mike kept up that routine, causing orgasm after orgasm. Just when I thought I could not take any more, he stood up and shoved his cock into my cunt, sending me into heaven. I was experiencing one continuous orgasm for the first time in my life. Mike reached up and started pinching my nipples sending waves of overwhelming pleasure through me. I could do nothing but lay there as he fucked the daylights out of me. Eventually, I felt his cock begin to pulse and he filled my unprotected cunt with his come.
My plan had been to return to my hotel room as soon as we were done, but we both fell asleep shortly after he came. I woke up early, feeling so satisfied, and feeling his semi hard cock pressed against my back. I had to have him one more time so, I turned around and took him into my mouth. It wasn’t long before he was hard again, as he laid on his back looking at me with a smile on his face. Once he was hard, I straddled him and sent his cock back into my cunt. I rode him like a mad bitch, sending myself down hard on his cock, coming and moaning. Again, his hands attack my tits, squeezing and pulling on my nipples. I was running out of steam when I felt his cock pulsing again. As soon as he was done, I pulled myself off him and took him into my mouth again. I wanted to taste him and began to suck the last of his come out of his cock. I was still sucking and licking when he pulled me off his cock and told me he had to leave to catch his flight. Disappointed, I got dressed and headed back to my room. Except for our first names, we did not exchange any other personal information such as numbers or email addresses.
After Bolu Escort Bayan a quick shower I headed to my flight, telling myself I would never cheat again. I fell asleep as soon as the plane left the ground and did not wake up until we were back on the ground. As I headed home, I began to get nervous that my husband would somehow realize I had been unfaithful. But he didn’t. He was watching a game on TV as we exchanged pleasantries and told me there was lasagna in the oven on warm. After another shower, we had a pleasant evening together watching TV. Thing were beyond pleasant as we laughed together for the first time in ages.
I awoke in the middle of the night, thunderstruck that the reason we were not getting along was my bitchiness, and all I really needed was a good fucking. The following morning at work I volunteered for almost weekly business trips and developed a set of rules: only have sex with someone on my last night so that it would not develop into anything more and never have sex with someone I knew.
My rule about sex only on the last night of my trip did not last long. Additional business trips failed to provide the deeply satisfying sex I experienced with Mike. On some trips, there was no one in the bar that I was interested in having sex with, and only half the dozen or so men I did have sex with satisfied me in any way. So, to increase the odds that I would find a good lover, I would have sex on any and every night I was away. My new rule was never to have sex with the same man twice. On one trip I had five different lovers.
My husband was always watching a game on TV whenever I got home. Our relationship continued to improve, even to the point of having sex. He would usually get home from his trip on a Friday night. I hated the craziness of airports on Fridays, so I always opted to fly home Saturday afternoon, which usually allowed me one more fuck on Saturday morning. So, my husband and I would have a pleasant Sunday together, watch a movie in the evening and end up having sex that night. The first time was odd because it had been so long. I was surprised he used a condom, but I could not remember if he always did. Condoms were a must when we first got married and I was afraid of getting pregnant, but I thought we stopped that.
On my business trips, I started experimenting more, trying different races, big men, short men and even several women. I never considered the idea of sex with another woman until one night, a woman sat next to me in the hotel bar. As we continued to drink our martinis, her hands became more friendly, touching my thighs. It took me awhile to realize she was coming on to me and when she invited me back to her room, I said yes. The first kiss felt a bit awkward until she pulled off my top and started sucking on my breasts. Soon, she had my skirt and panties on the floor and was pushing me back onto the bed. I laid there on the bed with my legs spread as she removed her clothes and I played with my nipples. Then she pushed my legs apart and started to lick my clit while shoving some fingers into my cunt and then my ass.
It did not take me long to come and as I was enjoying the aftershocks, I realized my lover’s cunt was inches from my face. I had never been that close to another pussy before, and I found myself enjoying the aroma. And then she planted that cunt onto my face and began to grind. She was shouting out instructions, wanting me to suck and bite on her clit, push my thumb up her ass. I loved the way she tasted and could not get enough of her juices. She began to come and squirt, filling my mouth with her orgasm as she ordered me to drink, and I did. With one hand, she began to vigorously rub her clit, causing her stream to continue. With her other hand, she began to slap my cunt, sending shock waves through my clit. I began coming again. Completely sated, we fell asleep.
When I awoke the next morning, my lover was wearing a strap on dildo. I had never seen one in real life before and was stunned. It took me a few seconds to realize she was calling me her slut as she rubbed the fake cock head across my face and told me to get on my knees.
Once on my knees she said, “Suck my cock, I want to see what a good little cocksucker my bitch is.”
I started sucking on the large black dildo just like it was a real cock as my lover grabbed my hair and started forcing it deeper into my mouth. She may have looked the same, but his was not the woman I fell asleep with last night. After several minutes of trying to shove this thing down my throat, she grabbed a handful of my hair forcing me to kneel up.
“I thought you were a submissive whore,” she said, “Look how hard your nipples are.”
My nipples always got erect when I was sexually turned on or when I felt a chill, much to my embarrassment when I was a teenager. I always wore a heavy bra to try and conceal them. Lately however, I have been skipping bras altogether and enjoying men’s reactions when my nips are poking through my top.
My lover was right, I was enjoying playing the submissive.
“Turn Escort Bolu around so I can fuck your slut pussy bitch.”
She started rubbing the massive cock up and down my slit. The thing was big, bigger than any real cock that ever fucked me and I was on the edge of an orgasm as she toyed with me.
“What do you want slut?” she said as she began slapping my ass.
“I want you to fuck me.”
“You want me to shove this big fat cock into your cunt.”
I don’t know why I started calling her mistress, but it seemed right as she started working to dildo into my cunt. She alternated between slapping my ass and slapping my tits. She had a handful of my hair which she was using as leverage to shove the massive dildo deeper into my cunt. I don’t know how many times I came and eventually she had her own orgasm and collapsed on top of me.
A few hours later and I was on my flight home. Was I submissive? Looking back at my lovers, starting with Mike, the best ones told me what to do, frequently telling me to do something I would not normally do. I remembered how Mike told me to strip and masturbate for him. I wanted to explore that side of me more but did not know how to do it. I thought about asking my husband when I got home but as usual, he was engrossed in a baseball game. I wouldn’t know how to pose the question anyway.
Over the next several business trips I tried to explore my submissiveness. I would dress more provocatively when I went to the hotel bar, wearing clothes I would never wear in front of my husband. Sometimes I would tell my lovers that I was their slut for the night. Some men jumped on the suggestion. One man tied my naked body to the armchair in his room as he and his friend fucked all my holes. They freed me over night but tied me back to the armchair in the morning, fucked me again and then let the room service man fuck me. I never saw the room service guy’s face. More and more nights were spent with multiple lovers, and I began to crave that more than anything. Multiple partners were always so slutty and one of both would become dominant.
Although I tried to adhere to most of my rules, there was one flaw in my plan that I had overlooked. The problem was that I usually stayed in the same hotels when visiting certain cities. For example, I frequently traveled to Chicago where I always stayed at the Drake, including the first night I cheated and had probably stayed there at least a dozen times since and a dozen times before that. It was also at the Drake that the room service guy fucked me. I learned that the bar staff paid attention to attractive women who entered their bar and who they left with. Therefore, the bar staff at the Drake became very familiar with my extracurricular activities. Most bar staffs were friendly with me, or probably any woman drinking alone at their bar, especially if she was provocatively dressed so I never thought twice about their behavior.
All of this became crystal clear on a midweek winter night at the Drake. It was an unusual trip for me involving two cities: Wednesday night at the Drake, then onto St. Paul for two nights and then home on Saturday.
I had worn a very short dress, the material was almost transparent, and my nipples had risen to the occasion. The bar was empty except for the black bartender and a waiter who was also black. They were chitchatting behind the bar when I sat down. The bartender served me a martini without me asking. I looked at him with a questioning look as I drank it down and asked for another.
He said, “Oh, we know what you drink, and we know what you’re looking for when you come down here. But it looks like not getting lucky tonight. We’ve lost count how many men you have left with, but there were at least three woman and three times you left with more than one man. You have also upped your game as to how you dress, and tonight’s outfit is the best. If we did not know you from before, we would have thought you were a call girl.”
The bartender continued to talk about the people I left with as I started on my third martini. For some reason I found his talk about my sex life exciting. I did not deny anything, and I could see the bulge in his trousers begin to grow. It was weird listening to a third party discuss my sex life so openly. Several of my lovers had told him what I did with them.
As he handed me my fourth martini, the waiter came up behind me, slid his hands up to my breasts and started pinching my nipples. I had forgotten all about him as the bartender and I discussed my sexual activities. A moan escaped my lips as I watched the black hands pull on my nipples in front of the bartender and I did nothing to stop him.
“You are a very famous woman with all the men who handle room service,” the waiter whispered into my ear.
He turned my barstool around so that I was facing him, and he began to kiss me. I let his tongue explore my mouth. He pulled me off the chair and his hands began to slide up my skirt, squeezing my ass. I realized that discussing my sex life with the bartender had really turned me on. When I first cheated, I had envisioned occasional sex with strangers. But the frequency and sluttiness became apparent as the bartended told me about the people I had slept with, especially the number of times I left with multiple men.
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