[FF] I’m not bi, but…

I’m a 38 year old wife, mother of three kids, living in middle-America. A real woman. I could be your neighbor. You’d never know, which is kind of the point. We have no clue what happens behind closed doors, up and down our street. I had a fairly popular (NoFans) Reddit account, where my husband and I shared the hot moments and sexy pics, but when you focus on the lifestyle and kink, you don’t get the full picture.

These are my stories.
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I’m not bi, but…

There are times in our lives where we go a little out of our comfort zone and we wonder what else we are holding ourselves back from. Before I got into the hotwife/sharing lifestyle, I had an interaction that I still fantasize about to this day. It involves me, a fellow soccer mom, a few drinks, and a raunchy night. To be clear, I am not bisexual and have never considered myself to be. I don’t look at women in a sexual manner, but I have had a few interactions throughout time where things got a little fun with a friend. This however, was a truly unique experience.

It was the end of year soccer banquet with all the families. The kids met for pizza and cake, and the parents got to enjoy each other’s company with a few beers. As the night progressed, parents started to head home, but a few moms decided they deserved a night out. We coordinated with our partners ways of getting our kids home or to spend the night with a soccer friend so the moms could enjoy a few more drinks together. As the night progressed, the group of 8 or so thinned out as the moms headed home. Eventually, there were just two of us left, me and a mom named Sarah. At this point, it is nearly 1am and we have had far too many beers and have become very open with each other in our conversations. We didn’t know each other very well prior to that night, but we are about to get to know each other very well.

In one of our discussions, I mentioned that my husband had this crazy notion to be swingers. At that time, I was staunchly against it. I recall her laughing it off and admitting that although she was married, she considered herself a bisexual. Even to this point, I took the revelation in stride, and I didn’t feel any sexual tension between us. To this day, I have no clue if it was Sarah’s master plan, or when she flipped a switch, but I was still just blowing off soccer mom steam.

The night went on and we got to a point where we were not capable of driving ourselves home. Our kids had gone home with my husband, and her husband was away for work. I texted my husband and let him know that we were calling an Uber and were going back to Sarah’s house to sober up.

I don’t remember a second of the car ride, only showing up to a house I had never been to and laying on the couch. Sarah came in behind me and she crawled on top of me. Giggling and snickering at how drunk we got and how long it had been since either of us had any fun outside of being wives and moms. She then leaned in for a kiss. This was not my first time kissing a woman. It was exciting though, and I went with it. I thought we were just goofing around and didn’t think it was going to go any further, but oh it did. The next thing I know her hand was grazing up my thigh and her fingers were working their way in my shorts and pulling my panties to the side. This was past any drunken party kiss for the benefit of the guys.

Jolts of electricity began to run through me. I almost felt paralyzed not really certain what my next move should be. Fortunately, Sarah had it all figured out. It was very clear she was used to being in control. She ran her fingers along my pussy lips and looked me in the eyes and asked me if I consented to her continuing. I bit my lip and nodded.

She unbuttoned my shorts and pulled them aggressively off of me, along with panties. She then pulled my tank top up over my head, along with my bra, but not to the point of removing it. Instead, she pulled it just high enough to where my arms were locked by the sides of my head and my nipples were poking out of the bottom of the bra. Her one hand had my arms pinned over my head, while her other hand was in between my legs feeling how wet and excited she was making me. She leaned down, pulling my nipple into her mouth, and started alternating between my breasts. She sucked them hard and aggressively and every now and then would glimpse up and give me a sly smile. She kept asking if she could continue, serving as both continued consent (so sexy), but also I think as a power play for her. She knew she was doing something to me I’d never experienced, and she got off on getting me off, each time I enthusiastically answered yes.

She slid down my body and positioned herself in between my legs. I remember her gripping the backs of my thighs and holding my legs back. I was drunk, in lust, and I was fully opened up to this almost-stranger to devour. With one last smirk, she pushed her face into my pussy. It felt amazing.

She would raise her head up and smile at me, her chin glistening, to catch her breath. She would then slide her fingers in my pussy and aggressively start to fuck me in a way no man ever had. The in-and-out motion of her hand was so aggressive yet perfectly positioned that the palm of her hand was rubbing my swollen clit better than any masturbation session could. I could feel my muscles tensing and that she was going to get the end result we both desired. The only words I could ever mutter were “Oh fuck!”

She looked up and smiled again, before lowering her head between my legs to finish what she started. With two fingers stationary inside me, she licked and sucked my clit until every muscle in my body locked up and I let out a loud wail. I tried to pull away but she didn’t allow it. Her mouth suctioned to my clit and her hand firmly inside of me, she didn’t stop until she felt the full quiver of my body through my orgasm, the whole way through the collapse of my body.

I was drenched in sweat, exhausted, and trying to catch my breath. I laid there in awe looking at this woman who without a doubt provided the most erotic sexual encounter I’d had in years, and maybe ever. I’m laying completely naked on this married woman’s couch with her looking at me from the floor, my pussy on her chin, fully clothed and very proud of herself.

She eventually got up to clean herself up, and give me the chance to do so as well. I wasn’t quite sure what the expectation was for me to return the favor, but that was not something I was sure I was up for, which she seemed fine with. At this point as well, a good 2 hours has passed, and I put my clothes back on.

We sat on the couch while we snacked and giggled. She told me a few stories from her past and that she wanted more rendezvous like this but that it just never really works out for her. She never made another move and the vibe of the room made it seem as though she had no expectation for anything further.

It was almost morning at this point, and I ordered an Uber home to a sleeping husband that was about to hear the story of his life.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/xm3tmb/ff_im_not_bi_but