RELATED TAG: adultery stories sister in-law
A submerged life – Megan [part 1 of 4]
By: Sharkey (abe-962@mweb.co.za)A submerged life – Megan
1) Having sex with other men surely gets my juices flowing…
adultery stories sister in-law
My husband and I are known as a quiet couple in a conservative pocket of middle class South Africa. Having reached our middle ages, we are considered relatively successful. He is a fine arts academic who excels at after-hours Jazz recitals in smoky intimate eateries and bars.I reached my late forties without any child in sight.
With time on my side I have started a thesis on Henry Miller’s ‘Tropic of Capricorn’. His brutally honest reflective style intrigued me. And of course his explicit sexual descriptions using words like cock and cunt turned me on. In my public life no one uses such language – we just do not have cocks that get rock hard with lust for swollen hot cunt. But that’s on the surface of society.
While I am not at all tight and muscle-toned, my body is soft and voluptuous with a feminine shape that still gets men turning to take a second look. I know they wonder about what’s hidden beneath my modest clothing.
Hidden beneath it, submerged under swaths of fashionable middle class blouses I actually hide large lustfully swollen breasts with swollen brown aureoles that easily scrounge my nipples up into horny suckable teats. Under my old-fashioned skirts my long brown legs end in easily aroused vulva that open at the slightest suggestion of muscular hard veined cock – especially if it is someone other than my husband.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Hans. Whenever we have sex I enjoy it and occasionally orgasm easily. But I have never gotten into situations where I could have given myself to another man. Heaven forbid… The thought alone causes an illicit tremor run down my spine, setting of millions of mini-explosions off that radiate slowly up my thighs into my turgid, clammy puss. I have huge outer vaginal lips that easily fill with blood and unfold to expose my coral pink inner pussy-lips.
Recently – since my early forties – I have found my mind drifting to adulterous adventures with nameless, faceless men.
These fantasies cause a maddening thrill between my legs that remains my secret domain. The thought of having sexual relations with other men just gets my juices flowing and makes my horny genitals throb endlessly. At times these thoughts wash over me uncontrollably right through the day. I often have to isolate myself in public toilets to cup my hand over my large swollen vaginal lips to calm down my very active libido. I slowly rub my cupped hand over my genitals, lightly grazing my puckered anus with my long fingertips, my palm caressing my open vagina and widely split wet, spread nether lips. I bring myself close to orgasm but never come in the sterile lonely space of public toilets.
That is the domain of my warm, intimate candlelit bedroom.
In spite of the public image of conservative, straight laced couple, in my house and bedroom, my conservative husband turns into a kinky sex mate who demands that I sleep nude, wear crotchless panties and attend public functions without any underwear. In a drunken state he once at an after-function coffee venue even went so far as to suggest that I flash my pussy at the young waiter.
Given the way I was brought up, of course I resist such daring adventures. But lately he has been unable to always live up to my need for passionate love-making. I have not been screwed spontaneously and with passion, hard and deep as I need to.
I have since started looking at other men with different eyes. Young men, old men, labourers, hell, even dirty homeless men; it doesn’t matter as long as there’s a cock between those legs, I fantasize about getting it hard, pulling its purple helmeted hood closer to my wide opened legs where my ringed pussy-muscles awaits between wet, loosely opened coral-coloured vaginal lips. adult cartoon stories
An obscure sentence at the start of Henry Miller’s autobiographical novel says that we live the greater part of our lives submerged. Nothing illustrates quite how submerged, covered from the true throb, thumb and jabs of real life we live our lives quite as much as what happened one late night.
(Vote to let me know whether you got as hard and wet as I am. Other parts have been drafted. Your approval through voting will let me know if I should send them…)
