This happened this summer. Note that whatever is in quotes I am recalling from memory, and is not 100% exact, but it’s accurate enough, and various details are added to make to hotter. Enjoy!
Being pretty bored at home, one day I’ve decided to download Tinder – I didn’t even have any expectations, it was motivated only by complete boredom. I set up a rather bare profile and start swiping. After a few profiles I notice one different – as a picture it has some stock photo of a man in a suit with his head cropped out, aged somewhere 35 to 40. I look over at the description and read: “Married with children. Seeking discrete ladies for mutual satisfaction.” Amused and somewhat aroused by the concept of the guy cheating on his wife I swipe right. Some 5 to 10 minutes later I receive a notification of a match – it’s that guy.
He messages me immediately. I respond, still amused, but over time get into the flirty and sexy banter. At some point he presses he’d really like to meet me. I ask him for some actual pictures of himself first, which he sends – one I distinctly remember is of him in a suit, visibly paunchy underneath, with a less-than-well kept beard and curly short hair. Not an attractive man, but there was still something about him and his cheating that kept me interested, but not also not in just a normal hookup.
At some point I had an idea to dress and act like his wife when we met up – I don’t know why, it just seemed to me so much hotter than just having sex. So I asked him about his wife – her name, what she wears on a night out, what she likes in bed. He was hesitant at first, but eventually sent me some pictures of his wife, Kelly. I looked over them without finding much interesting until I struck gold on one. She was wearing a blue dress, going down to the mid-thigh and hugging her curves tightly – I had a *really* similar one! Well, mine was a bit darker and had some sequins, but the cut was the exact same. Close enough. So we set a date, time and place. I ask him to take his wedding ring with him, he agrees. *Yes!*
The day comes and I do my best to look exactly like her in the picture – pick up a curler from a friend and go through that ancient ritual. I didn’t bother to dye my platinum hair brown, but it was close enough. I do my makeup using the photo as a reference while also adding some glow of my own. Then it was the dress – gorgeous. It’s even more gorgeous when on me. Cute poking-out butt, boobs showing off, with no bra in sight. As some added courage to act flirty and sexy I took some encapsulated Courage from some other friend to take before the hookup.
Excited, already feeling the Courage, I enter the hotel where we’re gonna fuck. Slowly making my way up, I remember seeing myself in the elevator mirror after taking my summer coat off, looking *hot as fuck*. With Courage in my veins, it took a lot for me to resist the urge to start masturbating right there, getting off in the elevator and not on the right floor. I contain myself and proceed out of the elevator, making my way toward the intended door, my heels clicking as I do. I knock on the door.
He opens up, looking not much different than the photo I described, though somewhat better groomed. It didn’t *really*matter what he looked like, though. I was already so horny I could even fuck my grandpa. Mister cheating-husband stands there for a moment, his gaze going up and down my body. I don’t think he’s ever had someone like me. I hope he never does again.
“Do you have my ring?” I ask, to which he immediately reaches into his pocket, pulls out his own wedding ring and hands it to me. It didn’t fit well onto any finger, but I still managed to lock it into place on my thumb. With that matter settled, he invited me in.
I threw my coat and purse onto a chair and walked to the front of the hotel bed, put my hands on my hips and turned to him. And he’s just… standing there, some 2 meters away from me. I shoot him a sultry look and try to strike a sexy pose, but all he does is just start talking. I don’t know about what, but a few words in I interrupted him, speaking a phrase I thought of before. “You’re my *husband*. You’re my *daddy*. Fuck me like a *whore*.” Hearing that he gets his bearings back, his dick seizing control from his brain; quickly throws down his tie and jacket and rushes to me, grabbing my neck with one hand, ass with the other and immediately showing his tongue into my throat. Not my preferred way to start a kiss, but I was too horny to complain.
His hands wander between my neck, boobs, ass and thighs over the duration of the make out sesh, until he finally pulls away and forcefully pushes me onto the bed behind me. I hit the mattress and immediately giggle like the horniest nymphomaniac. I wiggle around trying to strike a sexy pose, but he gets on top of me, holds my arms and lowers my dress, getting to see my boobs fully, grabbing and massaging them.
Suddenly he shouts at me “I’ll fuck your brain out Ashley!” *Wait*, what was that? In a flash of clarity, I raise myself as much as I can, put my hand on his shoulder and say, “Ashley? I’m you wife Kelly. Did you forget?” to which he responded with a nod of understanding. *Finally he gets it!* Immediately after he grinned, a change of plans happened in his head, as he pulls me from the bed to stand while sitting down on the edge of the bed himself. “It is the responsibility of a good wife to suck their husband’s cock. So do it, whore.”
With that my eyes must’ve lit up. I quickly fell to my knees in front of him. He pulled down his pants and threw them to the side, showing his fat cock. It was rather average in length, but it was definitely *fat* and *girthy*. Without much thought or a warm-up-handjob I threw myself onto it. Going up and down over and over, my jaw distended till numb – I don’t know if the energetic blowjobs high girls might give are good, but he certainly seemed to enjoy it, groaning and petting my head.
At some point he pulls my head off of himself, confusing me as I was *very* focused on my task. He put his hand on my neck and said, “get naked.” Obviously, I responded with, “YES, daddy-husband!” while giggling in anticipation. I got up, pulled down my dress, revealing my crimson red lacy panties, then pulled down those as well, struggling to get them through heels. I stood back up, ready for what’s next. He stood up and grabbed my neck, pulling me into himself, then throwing me onto the bed, shifting me to be belly up. Sitting behind me he rubbed and pinched and slapped and clawed my butt; my hands and arms were flailing around in excitement. Finally he raised my hips, put a pillow underneath, and, letting out a moan they must’ve heard at reception, I feel him enter my pussy.
He thrusts, again and again, sending waves of pleasure through my body every time. I lie there, enjoying the bliss, I felt him push my head into the mattress. I hardly noticed it though – my mind was blank, pleasure being the only sensation wracking my body, twisting every muscle that exists in ecstasy. I don’t know how long that went for, occasionally feeling him alternate between pushing my head into the mattress, slapping my ass, pulling my hair and the like. It wasn’t until he pulled out and came on my ass that I started to regain my senses, shaken.
We fooled around for a little more, he ate my pussy, I made him cum again with a blowjob, but as the effect of the Courage I took were starting to fade, I quickly dressed myself again, returned his ring, and took an uber home.
Couldn’t find my panties when dressing again, though. He said he didn’t know where they were, but I’ve no doubt he took them.
I’m sure he still has them, jerking off to them while remembering that night.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/e7mrck/mf20f_that_time_i_hooked_up_with_an_older_married
,_) l,i