Right now I’m averaging one new and one existing date each month. The Husband’s work stresses have started to subside and he’s really enjoying my adventures. Me going out on a date and the prospect of getting pounded by a complete stranger has started to become an ordinary part of our relationship. For him, the normalisation has become a comforting and incredibly arousing thing. But for me, the often mundane and disappointing encounters can be challenging and I’ve started to become slightly detached, both from him and my dates. Our lives are really busy and while our sex life together is good, it primarily revolves around me regaling him with tales of my adventures, without us getting much time to properly re-connect ourselves.
There are so many issues at play, primarily around our own individual sexual hang-ups and insecurities. For me it’s the ongoing challenge of reprogramming decades of social conditioning. Where I want to indulge in my love of sex and intimacy as the strong, beautiful, sexually empowered woman that I am, years of being told that I’m a cheap, ugly, desperate slag are hard to break free from.
While my rational brain is all too aware of what’s going on, it doesn’t stop the emotional virtual blow to the stomach that I experience from rejection or regret, one which still has the power to turn me into a needy insecure wreck on a regular basis.
There has been an emotional connection missing in my most recent interactions. While each has provided a unique contribution to my voyage of sexual rediscovery, it’s all been about the physical act, rather than any particular mutual adoration and respect. For The Husband, this is the realisation of his slutty hotwife fantasies. For me, it’s not entirely satisfying and I feel like I’ve lost direction while I’ve been exploring my boundaries and preferences. My new friend marks a bit of a turning point.
He is so non-descript that I’m finding him difficult to describe. He’s recently divorced and lives a couple of hours away but stays in a city hotel for work during the week. The messaging isn’t particularly exciting but he’s persistent, enthusiastic and convenient. And largely due to procrastination from a work deadline, I agree to meet him for a quick coffee nearby.
I don’t feel any instant attraction or connection, but he’s not bad looking and seems pleasant, polite and easy company. It’s an incredibly quick coffee and I’m not madly moved, but messaging me afterwards he starts to win me over with enthusiastic compliments and invitations to dinner. Besides, having a clean, impersonal, convenient place to spontaneously fuck during the working week is an attractive prospect.
Me and The Husband had exciting plans with Easy Rider that night. It was all set up for him to drive me over to get reacquainted with my friend after a few month’s break. After Easy Rider was done with me, The Husband would be invited in to clean me up before we say our goodbyes and head off home. Fun times.
But Easy Rider cancelled around lunchtime. He was heading off on holiday the next day and couldn’t make the timing work. I’m pretty convinced that nerves may have played a role in the decision too, understandably.
So after a hot few days of build-up, we’re left hanging. And out of the blue, The Invisible Man appears with an empty diary, a convenient location, a pleasant personality, and a raging hard on. The Husband agrees, and I take up the offer of a drink after work.
He’s sat outside of the pub watching me walk across the square towards him with a big smile on his face. While he’s a man of few words, he’s warm and affectionate and gazes adoringly at me whilst plying me with wine. I like it a lot.
Soon enough, we’re quite drunk, ravenously hungry and increasingly horny. And as luck would have it, his hotel is just around the corner. Neither of us was convinced it would happen and I’m being almost coy as he gradually seduces me. When he spots his work colleagues in the hotel bar, we have no choice but to retire to his room before our date night is derailed. After a very encouraging snog and a grope, he orders pizza and disappears to get a bottle of wine. There’s no place for coyness now, and I shower and get into the bed naked before he comes back.
The spontaneity, excitement and affection is intoxicating. While his cock isn’t ginormous, we’re a good match physically and the sex is great fun. He has a previously unfulfilled passion for bum sex (again) and when I filthily tell him to cum in my tight little arse, he has the most ridiculously hard and long orgasm, proclaiming ‘where have you been all my life?!?’
And the aftermath of cuddling, pizza and TV is lovely too. So much so that even when I know The Husband is waiting outside to take me home, I jump straight back on and ride him till I orgasm.