My plane was an hour late getting into DCA from Atlanta and we had dinner reservations at 8 on Capitol Hill, so our post-work routine was more rushed than usual. My husband Ben asked me about my week in Atlanta, where one of my teams is based. We laughed about the grind of our work weeks. Ben casually asked how things were going with Joe, my boyfriend in Atlanta. Ben and I enjoy a wife sharing arrangement, in which I enjoy a long-term relationship with a boyfriend. Ben encourages these relationships, demonstrates interest, but doesn’t get too closely involved. I share just enough detail to help Ben feel included in my extramarital relationships.
We were unpacking my suitcase and dressing for dinner. Ben helped empty my suitcase as I changed into a dress for dinner. I heard Ben gasp. My panties were in his hands. “**What?”**, I asked. “**Holy shit**”, Ben whispered, pulling at the fabric of my panties, inspecting them. It clicked, then. Ben was looking at a week’s worth of panties, all heavily soaked with Joe’s sperm. I was honest with Ben that two weeks prior, Joe asked to go bare with me and cum inside me. Joe disliked condoms with his prior girlfriends and felt close enough to me to enjoy creampie sex. Ben was squeamish at first, the idea that I would accept another man’s sperm inside me, but didn’t make a big deal of it. Now Ben had visceral evidence of how much creampie sex Joe and I were having. I was worried Ben might hit an emotional tailspin or be angry.
Ben’s fingers traced the edge of Joe’s sperm stains, his imagination spinning. ‘**Christine, that’s fucking hot. How much does Joe cum inside you?’** Plenty as it turned out. Joe typically spent the night with me at the hotel room most weeks and we had a vigorous sex life. Joe was also a massive cummer, to the point where I learned to bring an extra pair of panties with me to work those days. I began flying home with a suitcase full of sperm-soaked panties and Joe’s sperm still swimming inside me. In Joe’s mind, this was a natural way for a man and woman to make love, naturally and with no barriers. I could tell Ben was aroused, but we’d be late for dinner and agreed to talk about it later.
**‘I hope he knows how lucky he is**’, Ben joked as we walked to Pineapple and Pearls, putting his arm around me. I told Ben how lucky I felt, with an awesome husband who can share his wife without jealousy, and an amazing lover in Atlanta, whose presence I’d feel inside me for the rest of the weekend.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/eef2pi/gasping_at_my_panties_soaked_with_another_mans
i would have tasted them
Bet those panties smell great, good read!