Now that ‘Pandora’s Box’ was well and truly open, I was eager to feed my curiosity about what men, other than my husband, had to offer in terms of sexual expertise. Unfortunately for both my Stag and I, our initial Bull had returned to distant lands and with him, the only unattached and familiar individual I had any physical attraction to.
The thought of meeting someone new terrified me as the perils of meeting strangers from the internet are so frequently documented on the news and social media. We racked our brains and our contacts, in the hope that we would unearth an eligible male to continue to explore the world of Hotwifing with. Nothing. Between us we found no one to pursue things further with and there our journey ended; for several months at least. Having met and married my husband long before the advent of Tinder and other dating websites, the pair of us had no experience of the app approach to meeting new people. My husband therefore, undertook some research and eventually stumbled across a website that seemed to offer a solution to our Bull shortage.
Without my knowledge, he signed us up to the site and I won’t lie, I was furious! The macabre image of me being carted off in a body bag kept racing through my head. Was he really expecting me to meet up with any old Tom, Dick or Harry without having first conducted some sort of background check?! The answer to some extent was simply yes! He had created a profile for us and had even gone as far as to start chatting with people interested in meeting me. The world of dating apps it would appear is a minefield of fake accounts, picture collectors and dick pics. The often laborious task of filtering through the users quickly became the job of my husband, as the brief encounters I had had with the website, when peering over his shoulder, had done little to eliminate my fear of ‘Stranger Danger!’ It soon became apparent that my Stag was very efficient at his new job and a potential Bull made it through his rigorous filtering system – a mutual dislike for other users on the site.
My husband continued to chat with the potential Bull for a couple of days before he announced his discovery to me and asked if he could share my details with him. For the sake of my anonymity and aversion to being a murder headline on a newspaper, I opened an account on a communication app that enabled me to talk to others without having to share my personal details with anyone. I received my first message from him. “Hi!” Original and yet I felt like a giggly pubescent teenager! A guy had messaged me and I had no idea how to respond to it. I didn’t want to reply straightaway as I didn’t want to appear too desperate but I also didn’t want to be too aloof. This was ridiculous! Eventually I decided to respond with an equally articulate “Hey.” Initial contact had been made. Pleasantries were exchanged and I enquired into his background and interests. It soon became apparent that we had similar likes and dislikes. Prior to messaging him, I had been shown a couple of photos of him which had caught my attention. Now that I had coupled the pictures with the information I had gathered from the messages, I was really interested to find out more about him.
We continued to exchange messages for a few days and they soon became increasingly flirtatious. One afternoon whilst I was at work, I received a text asking if I would like to meet for a drink. A guy was asking me out on a date! I wanted to say yes but again I started to doubt the validity of everything he had told me prior to this moment. For all I knew, the images were fake and he had been feeding me a bunch of lies to get me to this moment. A bar was suggested in a busy part of town so surely I would be safe. I agreed and we arranged to meet a week later. As the date approached I began to get more and more nervous yet excited, and the flirtatious nature of our messages intensified. Finally the day arrived and the constant clock watching began, as I sat at work counting down the minutes until I set off to meet him.
I had left my car at home that day as I knew I would be requiring some dutch courage on our date. Before leaving work, I applied my makeup and changed my outfit. As I left, colleagues made complimentary comments about my appearance which elevated my confidence greatly. As I sat at the station awaiting the train, my nerves started to get the better of me and I physically began to tremble. By nature, I am not a nervous person but on this occasion, fear was consuming me. Whilst I was waiting, I called my husband for reassurance that I had not gone temporarily insane and he thankfully confirmed that my sanity was intact and reminded me that I hadn’t agreed to anything other than meeting someone. I was starting to dread the journey, as I knew with every mile that passed, I would be getting closer to starting the date. I was on course to arrive early. I didn’t want to be the first to get there as I feared he’d see me and leave without my knowledge. I’d never been stood up before and I didn’t want this day to be the first occasion! I also didn’t want to arrive second, in case I didn’t like what I saw, requiring me to make a swift exit. In reality I was the second to arrive and thankfully I liked what I saw.
We met at the station and proceeded to walk together to a bar not too far away. The walk provided me with a chance to regain my nerves as my heart felt as though it was attempting to burst through my chest. As we walked we made small talk, in true British fashion, about the weather and how unseasonably warm it was. Before long, we had arrived at the bar and found a sofa tucked away in the corner. On entering, I quickly scanned the room to be sure that no one I knew was there – a ridiculous thing to do seeing as I was nowhere near home. We ordered drinks and retired to our nook hidden away. Once seated, I was finally able to fully take in his appearance and appreciate how different he was to my husband. As much as I love my husband and still find him highly attractive, I was surprised at how much I was drawn to this relative stranger across from me. What ignited this attraction further was the fact that if I (and of course if he was consenting!) wanted something physical to happen, I had permission to. What’s more, I had my husband’s blessing to go as far as I wanted. This wasn’t a regular date in which two people were drawn together with a desire to live happily ever after. This was a Hotwife date, where both parties knew potentially what they wanted from each other; no strings attached sex.
The conversation swiftly became effortless as it became clear that the common interests we shared via our messages were genuine and we built upon these further. As we became more relaxed in one another’s company, we started to discuss our experiences of the Hotwife kink. Whilst I had very limited, he had considerably more and in fact had a ‘regular’ that he had been seeing for a couple of years. We continued to share our sexual experiences and it soon became apparent that our drinks had run dry. Whilst he went to the bar to fetch us some more, I quickly messaged my husband to let him know that I was safe and that I was having a good time. I was now feeling more relaxed and more like myself. Moments later, my potential Bull returned to the sofa and I noticed that he had sat considerably closer to me, so much so that our shoulders brushed against one another when we made the slightest movement. I took this to be a very good sign. We continued to talk and I became aware that he was becoming more tactile. On several occasions he gently touched my arm or grazed my knee. I didn’t need to be a body language expert to see that he was as attracted to me, as I were to him. Time had raced away and we both knew that our date was rapidly coming towards its close. That’s when he asked if he could kiss me.
For a brief moment I froze, as I recalled all the conversations I had shared with my husband about his fantasy and being shared, guilt free, with other men. His words of encouragement ran through my head as I gave the man next to me, permission to kiss me. Unlike the other ‘first’ kisses I had shared on this ‘journey’which had taken place in the privacy of my own home, this kiss would be public. It felt at though I was about to make a public declaration that I had well and truly become a Hotwife. He gently leaned in and kissed me on the lips. It was a slow and gradual kiss. Gradual in the sense that with every motion, it became hungrier and more passionate. I was reciprocating. His tongue entered my mouth and I greeted it with my own. His hand moved to my thigh and its arrival sent a pulse racing up my leg. Every sense in my body had been jolted to life. The kiss continued to intensify but the realisation that we were in a public place brought it to a premature end, for neither of us wanted to be arrested for public indecency. We broke from the kiss and sank back into the sofa. It was obvious that both of us were greatly frustrated. The sexual chemistry between us was evident and we both wanted to act on it but unfortunately on this occasion, the time and location were against us; it was time to part ways.
The walk back to the station was unbearably short. It was clear that neither of us wanted to leave but prior engagements forced us to. As we were about to say goodbye, he pulled me in for a final quick kiss. Once we broke from it, he offered me an invitation. He wanted to see me again but this time, if I agreed, it would be at his house. How could I possibly refuse? The truth is, I didn’t. Not only had the date gone exceptionally well, in agreeing to visit him at his house, I had effectively agreed to my first solo sexual venture and I couldn’t wait.
Unlike the journey to the date, one that was filled with fear and self-doubt, the journey home was a completely different affair. I was brimming with excitement and self-assurance; not only at the prospect of fucking my new lover but also at the thought of sharing my first solo experience with my husband. As I travelled home, I started to tease him with hints at what had just occurred. At the same time, I exchanged messages with my newest Bull and set the wheels in motion for arranging our next meeting. I was sexually charged and needed an outlet. My Stag, who had been tracking me through ‘Find My Friends’ (If I had been murdered by the newest Bull, I wanted my body found!) greeted me at our door. It was clear that my mischievous exchanges during the journey home, had charged him in the same fashion that the kiss with a near stranger had had on me. He was seething with jealousy but not in an angry way as you might expect, instead his jealousy had turned to an animalistic lust in which he needed to ‘reclaim’ me. I had barely stepped through the door before his hungry hands were on me and his eager mouth was kissing me. Unfulfilled desire was still coursing through me from the date and I reciprocated a kiss for the second time that evening. As we kissed and started undressing each other, images of my latest bull raced through my mind. Noticing my distraction my husband pulled me over to the sofa and pushed me down upon it; a little more forcibly than normal. He spread my legs and instantly observed how wet I was and yet, he knew that it was for another man. As the man I love started to fuck me, I was thinking about another.
Up until this moment, I couldn’t recall ever being this aroused which surprised me, as my previous encounter with a Bull had wildly exceeded my sexual expectations. If this is what Hotwifing was all about, I was never going back!