## Chills. Everywhere. Down my neck, down my spine, all the way to my toes.
That’s what happens every time I glide my fingers between the swollen lips of my dripping wet pussy.
It’s been three days since I’ve had my last orgasm and I’m going crazy. Life just gets busy, ya know? One thing turns into the next and eventually you and your husband become more abstinent than a catholic priest.
Speaking of my husband, thanks to my *very* considerate snoring, I am now awake at 430am on a Saturday. And since I’m the only one in the house who is awake, I’m going to take advantage of the rare quietness and fix this little problem of mine.
I throw my legs out from underneath the blankets and attempt to get out of bed as quietly as possible. Clumsily doing it in a way that resembles more of a trip and stumble rather than a tip and toe. But I leave the bedroom unscathed and walk down the hallway undetected.
Sneakily making my way into the bathroom, I shut the door behind me quietly, being sure to not to make a single noise. I then turn the faucet on to the bath, envisioning that the sound of the running water will soon be drowning out the sounds of my self-induced pleasure.
I walk towards the sink and yawn. Rubbing my blurry eyes as I stare into the mirror in an attempt to wake up.
I grip the bottom of my husband’s old tee-shirt, pull it over my head, and then I stop. I’m standing there with my shirt in my hand and my braless tits exposed. Each breast waiting impatiently to be played with. It’s almost like they’re staring at me in resentment from the lack of attention.
I drop my shirt on the floor and apologetically grab each breast in my hands. I squeeze them firmly, massaging them up and inwards towards each other. I hold them there for a second, then I let them drop out of my hands. I do this only to catch them again on the rebound, grabbing each nipple between my index finger and thumb. I start tugging on them, pulling on them, and savoring the tense stretching sensation that is sent through my entire chest. After a moment, I finally let them go too. My now-hard nipples retain their point, eagerly awaiting more.
“God I’m so horny,” I think to myself.
I smile back at myself in the mirror, biting my lip. Admiring my exposed tits and hardened nipples, I start to slide my thumbs back-and-forth between the waistband of my sweatpants and my panties. I can feel the silkiness of my thong against my fingers as I tease myself with the idea of taking my sweats off.
I eventually give in and drop them down to the floor and step out of each leg. I take one last look at my almost-naked body before slipping my panties off, freeing my incarcerated pussy from her lacy prison.
I turn around and I assess the bath water while leaning against the sink. It’s only a third of the way full, but I can’t wait. I pick up my phone and pull up my favorite pornography blog.
This particular blog is full of my favorite types of porn ranging widely from very traditional sex to unique taboo sex. It has all of my favorite photos, videos, and GIFs that I’ve collected over the years.
As I go through the photos and videos, I start to feel my nervous system kick into overdrive. My heart begins to race, my breathing becomes rapid, and I start to feel the warm wave of adrenaline crash over my body.
My hand wanders south to find its intended destination against my pleading pussy.
I lay my two middle fingers over each lip firmly. I slowly separate them, uncovering the secrets that have been hidden underneath their veil. My pussy reverberates with the wet, smacking sound of a sexually deprived woman as my lips reach their limit. They’re fully spread open. My needy hole gives in too and opens up as well, showcasing her tightness while on full display.
I look down to admire the beauty.
My sweet juices start to forcefully ooze out of me as I continue to knead my swollen lips inward. Being careful not to touch my clit near its hood. Not yet at least, I want to go slow.
“God, I LOVE touching myself,” I redundantly observe. Almost like I’ve never touched myself before.
But I have. I’ve been touching myself ever since I can remember and honestly, at this point, I almost prefer it. I just know how I like to be touched and for me, sexual pleasure is a process, not a destination. I like to take it slow because the best feelings and sensations come from the smallest, most minute details embedded in the process.
Orgasms are great, but the details is what separate the newbies from the experts.
Unfortunately, I think that these details get overlooked too often.
Right now, I’m rubbing my outer lips, pressing against my pelvic floor, and spreading them open. What most people wouldn’t know is that I’m actually stimulating my clit.
That’s because people think the clitoris is little “bean” or “button” found underneath the hood at the top of the vagina. When actually, the clit only ***starts*** there, and is actually horseshoe shaped. The clitoris goes inside the woman and then it divides into two branches that go down each side of the vagina, underneath each pussy lip, and against the pelvic floor.
Like I said, it’s the details. The details are why I’m dripping wet already and I haven’t touched anything but my lips.
Nonetheless, as I slowly drift off into a seductive trance, and keep sifting through the different photos, videos, and GIFs, I begin to rub miyself more vigorously.
## This leads to a single finger straying towards the top of my pussy. Leaving the hood in it’s place, I gently start to rub my already-swollen clit. Gently rocking my hips back and forth in sync with my finger motions, I start by rubbing using little circles, then gradually transition into larger ones, shamelessly showering my pussy with the attention she deserves.
As I continue took through my phone, a lot of things catch my eye, but nothing really… sets me off… you know?
I don’t want just any fantasy this morning.
No, I need something intense, passionate, and full of moral questionability.
I need something bad.
Something nasty.
I reach up towards my salivating mouth with the hand that was entertaining my pussy. Slipping my two middle fingers inside my mouth, a small amount of cum enters with them. It gives me just enough of a taste to tease me, but definitely not enough to satiate my mischievous cravings.
I drop my hand back down between my legs, taking a little wider stance, and this time immediately going towards the top of my clit.
I gently pull back the hood, revealing my secretive clit even more.
Pulling the hood back makes it unbelievably sensitive and almost too much to bear. But with my spit-covered fingers pressed against my exposed clit, I start to rub myself even faster, and even harder.
Damn, my wet fingers feel so damn good.
Once I find a good rhythm, my fingers gently settle into a dopamine-induced pattern of pleasure. My heart begins race even faster. As does my breathing. I start to anxiously swipe through the erotic content quicker and quicker, almost as if I’m looking for something that is lost.
Then, a single picture catches my eye.
I reactively drop my thumb like a gavel onto the screen. Halting the seemingly endless scroll.
It’s a picture that I’ve seen many times before, but somehow overlooked. It’s about something that I don’t fully understand, therefore I haven’t really been interested in it.
Until now.
For some reason, now things are different.
Why though?
I don’t know. But my stomach immediately clutters with butterflies and I can feel my pussy start to gush. To say that I’m wet would be an intense understatement.
I accidentally let out a soft, yet audible, moan.
“Oh shiiiiit..” I whisper, biting my lip again.
My hand and mouth connect like magnets in a desperate attempt to silence the sounds of my new-found pleasure.
I pause.
Wide-eyed, I listen closely, waiting for the sounds of waking children or husband.
*silence*
But a few seconds go by and nothing happens. So I look back down at my phone. I put my hand back on my clit. And I press on the picture, hoping that it’ll lead me to a haven of similar pictures.
It does.
I found it; I know what I’m cumming to this morning.
And my newly piqued interest makes me feel naughtier than I ever have before.
The photo is black and white, and it’s technically not a photo at all, it’s a GIF.
If you don’t know what that is, it’s kind of like a short, few-second clip that is played on a loop. If you’re wanting a little more than traditional photos, but don’t necessarily want to watch full-length videos, GIFs are a good middle ground. They capture “the moment” really well.
The GIF is of scene that takes place in a living room. There is a man and a woman in the right corner of the scene, and they are having sex on the couch
The woman is blonde and is fully draped in white lingerie. Her hair is curled softly and extends past her lower back. She has soft, innocent-looking, crystal-blue eyes. The way she looks at the man is so intimate and raw, like she’s begging him for more with a single look.
Her bra is partly sheer towards the middle of the cup, giving you a gentle peak at the outer rim of her nipples. The non-sheer part of the bra, towards the outside, is lacy, very intricate, and cups her tits perfectly. It even is perking her up a little bit, showcasing her beautiful breasts. Her breasts are amazing. They are large enough for an intense visual appeal, but not too large to play with, either.
## She wears a tiny little white thong that has a split up the middle for access to her pussy. It’s partly covered by her bustier and garter. Both of which are almost as intricately laced as her bra. Her bustier covers part of her stomach and her garter secures her white, thigh-length stockings to her legs.
The man lay completely naked on the cushion, his feet hanging off the couch and planted firmly onto the ground. His lap resembles a small, level surface or table. He’s extraordinarily attractive. He has short, dark brown hair. His body is a tan-olive color.
And his body…
OHHH his body…
He has a thick neck. His trapezius muscles tower over his collarbones. His shoulders are rounded off sharply giving him a much wider-than-normal appearance. His arms are thick and strong, strong enough to manipulate his gorgeous toy with ease. He has a big, barrel-like chest and abs that would make even the most confident swimsuit model cower in embarrassment.
In other words, my kind of man.
The woman is straddling the man’s legs. The platform he has created gives her a perfect place to sit. With his legs between hers and judging by her facial expressions, his cock is clearly inside her. The woman’s legs are lifted ever so slightly off the ground. She’s riding him, but not on her own. The man’s big, strong hands have a tight grip on her ass cheeks, allowing him to control her every move.
She might be on top, but he’s moving her around like a puppeteer.
She might be on top, but she’s not fucking him. No, he’s fucking her. Like she was a toy.
He effortlessly lifts her up and down on his own terms. To match his own desire. To satisfy his own needs for pleasure.
He could have sat down, laid back, and enjoyed the show, but not this man. This is a man with control. A man with confidence. A man who knows exactly what he wants and will take it when he wants it.
And in this very moment, he wants nothing more than to be base-deep inside this fine, beautiful woman.
Although the two having sex are incredibly attractive, its not them that has caught my eye. It’s not even how they’re fucking that got my attention.
It’s something else.
In the bottom left corner is a second man. He’s not naked. He’s not filming. He’s just… watching. You can’t see his face. Only the back of his head. He’s wearing a dark black suit with a maroon tie and accents. He’s sitting there, calmly. With one leg rested on the other, and a glass of liquor in his hand. There appears to be a trail of smoke coming from his other hand. A cigar maybe? Either way, this man isn’t participating actively, and he doesn’t seem all too bothered by what’s happening around him. He’s simply, enjoying it.
I scroll down to the caption to read what this scene was all about.
Right there in the caption, it reads “When You Have a Hotwife, You Have Your Own Pornstar”.
“Holy shit…” I think to myself, “Thats her husband!”.
That’s so wrong, but why is that so hot at the same time? Why am I so wet?
I start to ponder.
First of all, isn’t that cheating? I love my husband, I would never want to cheat on him. But, at the same time, little miss blondie in the GIF looks like she’s having the time of her life.
If that’s her husband he seems okay? Is that even possible? My husband would probably have an aneurism if he saw me with another man, let alone enjoying it.
But again, why is it making me so wet?
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/miqrk8/the_innocent_diaries_of_an_insatiable_hotwife
Worth a revision and a chapter 2?