Early experiences at an adult bookstore

[jw_kk]

This is an excerpt from ‘Obsession,’ a much longer accounting I’ve published on Literotica. It focuses on adult book store activity in our earlier married life.

My obsession over my wife KK engaging in sex with other men began as the result of her infidelity, and related emotional trauma. The initial events took place during my undergraduate, college years. The triggering event was KK's decision to break off our engagement - a traumatic, heart-breaking moment for me.

During that period, I developed a growing, decidedly perverse obsession over thoughts, visualizations; scenes I imagined, thinking of KK having sex with other guys. These thoughts were based on suspicion, some on innuendo, some just on logic, given the experiential knowledge of KK's personality and needs. Those feelings intensified throughout the period of our break-up.

For a very long time, the only way I was able to achieve orgasm, and cum was thinking about KK fucking other men.

Eventually, we got back together. KK and I resumed our engagement, we got married shortly after completing our undergraduate programs. There was possibly a relatively short window in time, six to eight months, in the period just prior to the wedding, through the first several months of married life, during which I was relatively free of the obsession. That did not last.

Setting other details aside, the "perverse" obsession returned. It was a sort of gradual thing, like a day becoming slowly overcast. The obsessive thoughts of KK having sex with another man returned as a sort of simmering, ephemeral wisp of mental imagery during sex.

The accounting behind the "dam burst" event which revived my obsession, begins in the context of this narrative. KK and I were doing well in our early married life. We were enjoying frequent, "dirty" married sex, in its full bloom, still relative newlyweds, fucking like bunnies.

Beyond "vanilla sex," KK and I in that newlywed era explored all of our deviant, kinky interests; porn, sex toys, different positions, venues, and so on.

I was relatively inexperienced, admittedly naive about many things, in denial about others, including my understanding, let alone acceptance of some aspects of KK's personality and psychological make-up. I was also focused on early career, the aspiration for professional, as well as financial success.

Through my job, I had been granted use of a VHS recorder/player, allowed to take it home to view work-related recordings for analysis and research purposes. In that era, VCR's and players were a relative luxury, expensive, in a sense primitive by contemporary standards.

I'd had the VCR at home for about a month. Up to that point, it had only been used for work-related purposes. A couple of times, KK wheedled about watching something fun on it, but we'd not exercised it for entertainment purposes.

One evening, KK and I were watching the local news on TV. There was a piece about crackdowns on adult-oriented businesses in town, including a strip joint, and an adult bookstore. The strip joint was in violation of a local proximity and zoning ordinance, too close to a church that had moved into the vicinity, in which the club had been operating for a half-decade. The adult bookstore (ABS) was notorious as a property of nuisance; frequent law enforcement visits related to public lewdness reports, altercations involving ...... and alcohol use, assault, robbery, and other issues.

The news report seemed to garner undue attention and interest from KK. At the time, I had no idea why, no insight. Youth and inexperience likely, I was curious about KK's discussion:

"Baby, have you ever been to one of those places?"

At first, I was unable to come up with a response. I hedged, "What places?"

KK's facial expression was hard to characterize, kind of a sneer/smirk, her lips pursed, jaw set, "You know what I'm asking... Don't lie. Have you ever been to one of those places? Tell me..."

After a long silent pause, I decided to play her game. "Yes. I've been."

KK said, "Really? You've been to a titty bar? To a porn shop? Really?"

Another pause, after collecting my thoughts, "Yes, I've been to a strip joint, and to an adult bookstore."

KK's response was oddly rapid, "Would you take me to one of those bookstores? If I wanna go? What's inside them?"

I responded, "Magazines, video tapes, movie booths, sex toys..."

My response led to a barrage of questions, almost James Joyce style, stream of consciousness, a flow of unpunctuated inquiry about the adult book store (ABS) environment. It was all I could do to mentally keep up with the flow of her questions. In the end, I agreed to take her for a visit - to satisfy her unexpected curiosity.

During the week, on the way home from work, I stopped to scout the ABS in question - leg work to check the place out before I fully committed to taking KK for a visit. The scouting trip went as expected, and other than being cautious, I decided it was probably okay for KK and I to explore it in more depth.

The following Saturday night, we made a "date" to visit the ABS that I'd scouted earlier in the week. KK was on pins and needles the entire day. We had dinner out, as preamble, including a couple of glasses of wine for KK - liquid courage. The drive from the restaurant to the ABS was short.

The venue was in a sort of rundown, seedy strip mall. It was dusk, not quite fully dark. KK said, "What if somebody we know sees us?"

I said, "That's not likely, but if they do, what are they doing here?"

That seemed to quench her concern, at least in the moment. We parked, but not directly in front of the ABS, deciding to walk the distance to the entrance. KK had my hand in hers, a near vice-grip. My beautiful, young wife was wearing jeans, a sweater, a pair of white, low-heel pumps - not outrageously, "fuck me" attention-getting, but subtly sexy, sort of innocent.

Inside, we were met by a sort of barricade - a clerk manning a desk, with a swinging, token operated gate adjacent. It was reminiscent of a public transit turnstile. Both KK and I were nervous, likely for different reasons. The clerk was surly, silent. The hand-drawn signage read: "Two tokens / $2.50"

The hand-scrawled sign on the turnstile read: "Entry fee 2 tokens. Ladies free."

On my scouting visit, I discovered that everything except for merchandise sales was token-based.

I decided to test the waters so to speak, by purchasing four tokens, five bucks worth.

I knew that KK's entry was free, so the extra tokens were contingency - enough for watching five minutes of video in one of the booths, if KK felt daring enough. I had about $60 in cash with me, with the foreknowledge that the place was cash-and-carry, no checks or credit cards. I had the extra cash in case KK got interested in a toy or video.

I fished five bucks from my wallet, paid the clerk, who concluded the transaction on the cash register - the change dispenser emitted four tokens about the size of quarters. The clerk said, "She goes through first. Then you follow."

The clerk buzzed the turnstile's bolt, KK passed nervously through the gate, then turned facing me, waiting for me to pass through. I fed two tokens into the slot on the turnstile, heard the bolt buzz as it unlatched, then made my way through.

The merchandise operation in the front-end was mixed; crappy, cheesy, but overpriced lingerie, sex toys, magazines, and video tapes (this was pre-digital era). The media merchandise was organized as "straight," "gay," "bisexual," including a tiny section, in one corner of the room as "transsexual." The straight/gay content was predominant, the bi/trans stuff a small fraction of the merchandise.

KK was visibly nervous, but clearly aroused, stimulated by the environment. She quipped, "It smells weird in here..."

The scent, a blend of bleach, disinfectant, and cum was indeed notable in the air. We wandered the front end of the store, at first alone, other than the surly, disinterested clerk. Things seemed a little off, given the number of vehicles parked in front. Intuitively, I figured most of the patrons were in the back.

During my scouting operation, I discovered that there were at least two-dozen video viewing booths in the back. There were also two larger rooms, configured as small, open-seating theaters. During my scouting, both were empty - one was apparently intended as a "straight" environment, the other "gay," each with three rows of five seats, a projection screen, otherwise spartan.

Over the next several minutes, patrons came and went, making their way from the video booth area to the exit, or from the turnstile to the booths. Going and coming, everyone took note of KK, pausing to get a long, long look at my beautiful young wife - a relative rarity (at least likely so) in an ABS. A few times, KK blushed from the attention. We'd been there maybe fifteen minutes when a gnarly looking character entered the merchandise section, "browsing." He was mostly shadowing us, ogling KK.

The attention he was giving KK was weirdly hot. A couple of minutes later, KK pulled one of the boxed VHS tapes from the rack, exclaiming, "Let's get this one baby... looks hot and sexy! Can we? Can we?"

She was emphatic about it - in the time, at $35, it was something I'd considered expensive. I indulged her. We made the awkward trip to the counter, finally got the clerk's attention, me handing him four tens. I got back four tokens as change, with the tape in an opaque, thin plastic bag.

KK and I made our exit. On the drive home, KK had the tape out of the bag, examining it over and over, front and back, in the dim light through the car windows. She almost sprinted from the car to the house when we finally got in the driveway, hurrying inside with the tape.

By the time I caught up with her, she was fumbling around - KK had the plastic over-wrap off the cassette, out of its sleeve, trying to figure out how to put it in the VCR. I distracted her, asked her to go fix us a drink and roll a joint, to enjoy while we watched.

It was the first porno we ever watched together. The title KK'd selected was "Sex Boat" - this was an 80s feature in VHS... it's now a vintage classic, campy script and all. Thematically, the story's based on husbands who send their cheating wives on an all-female cruise as "punishment." Somehow two dudes stow away on the ship, eventually "heroically" saving the crew and passengers from traffickers/pirates/slavers (costumed as stereotypical pirates, including a hook and eye-patch in at least one case).

I had no idea why KK selected this video, at least not at the time. In retrospect, it was likely some sort of signaling, at least at a subliminal, if not overt level. I was just too inexperienced, lacking the insight to understand it all.

Once KK got back to the den with cocktails and a couple of fat joints, I started the tape. We were snuggled together on the loveseat, enjoying the refreshments as the scene opened.

The opener is two related scenes "mashed" together. The unsuspecting, cheating wife rolls up home in her Corvette, finds her husband, and her lover in a tense situation in what appears to be a den, study, or library. There's confrontation, anger, threats on the part of the husband, begging, pleading, looking for an out on the part of the cheating wife and her lover.

The husband forces his wife and her lover to have sex, while he watches, photographs, commenting on the situation. The first part of the opener concludes with the lover's money shot, a combined blowjob/facial cum shot. The husband ejects his wife's lover, chasing him off butt-naked.

The second half of the scene starts with the husband dragging his naked wife out of the house, to the pool/grotto area in back, tying her up, as she resists the entire time, forsing his bound wife to watch him have sex with two young women.

I'll spare the remainder. Suffice to say, the cheating, adulterous, hot wife aspect was pretty clear. We didn't make it through the entire video. KK replicated parts of what she watched on tape, using me as a toy.

All at once, those feelings, the obsession were back in full forse. The combination of the ABS visit, watching the dirty porno with KK, and the sex that followed were a trigger for me. After it was all over, both KK and I were a little stoned, a little ......, and exhausted. We ended up in bed, KK dead to the world, ......, me fitful, anxious, fixated on what had transpired.

Unable to ......, the anxiety drove me into a masturbation session, envisioning KK in the role of the cheating wife, "forced" to have sex with her lover while I watched. The resultant orgasm and ejaculation were powerful, intense, explosive. The relief and release allowed me to finally fall asleep.

Although the VHS tape is long since gone, KK and I still watch this on "Porn Night" a couple of times a year, streaming it from our digital archive.
…

 

[jw_kk]

About three months later, KK raised the ABS visit again, begging me to take her on a return trip. Before leaving, I looked for the tokens leftover from our first visit, but couldn't find them. In the moment, I decided I'd misplaced them - putting them somewhere I'd remember, which always guarantees whatever it was will disappear forever, until some random moment when the item turns up again. I didn't think more about it at the time. That oversight turned out to be prophetic, although the details would take decades to unfold.

On our second visit, we were a little more daring. KK and I went to the back of the ABS, to view videos in the booths. On that visit, the place was more crowded - it was a Wednesday night. There were many, many men there, but mostly it appeared they were gay, or bi. KK attracted a lot of attention - this time she was wearing a dress, sandals, her hair in a pony-tail. The outfit was my idea, the combination of optimism that I'd get to engage KK sexually, or even better, get her felt up, perhaps even fucked. I'd even managed to talk KK into going with nothing on under that sexy dress, no panties, no bra.

This visit was less awkward in some ways, much more awkward in others. We went to the booths after about five minutes of "ice-breaking," browsing the video racks. Similar to our first visit, a few men began shadowing KK as we browsed the racks, close, but not too close. KK definitely noticed the attention. It was almost as if she were prey, being stalked.

That five minutes seemed like an eternity, broken by a guy that got just a little too close, bumping into KK as he passed behind her at one of the racks. That was the trigger that drove us to make way for the viewing booths.

There were probably a dozen men in the long hallway separating the two halves of the back room. Maybe half of them took interest in KK's presence, the remainder were engaged with one another in various activities, for the most part groping, stroking each other's exposed cocks.

KK was doe-eyed, enthralled at the scene. Once she snapped to, we cruised the hallway, looking for an unoccupied booth, examining the garish posters on the doorway that displayed the loops that were showing in a particular booth.

The first set of loops we watched were compilations of women blowing multiple men - "blow bang" clips, finishing with cum slathered facials on the women. KK was sitting on the sticky bench, atop which I'd placed quadruple folded paper towels from the roll inside the booth - her bare bottom on the barrier, hem of her skirt raised to allow me access to her pussy. I fingered her to orgasm in the six or seven minutes we occupied the booth. KK was visibly shaken by the experience, wobbly legs, her body hot, lightly sweating, face flushed.

With her composure somewhat restored, we exited the booth, nervously prowled the hallway, looking for the next viewing opportunity. At that point, more of the men present had taken notice. I was erect, in fact painfully engorged, bulging through my jeans to the point I felt hobbled.

KK and I made it all the way to the very back of the viewing area, where the two small open-seating theaters were located. On the "straight side," there was a lone guy seated in the middle row. It was too dimly lit to see with any clarity, but he appeared to be masturbating.

KK gasped when I pointed it out, which attracted the man's attention. Still stroking, he stared at us, the expression on his face a sort of hopeful grimace. KK nervously tugged on my arm, uttering, "Oh my God!"

As we turned away from that half of the back room, we caught a glimpse of the action in the "gay" side of the theater; three men, one seated, his pants down around his ankles, one kneeling in front of him, sucking his cock, the third standing in the aisle behind the seated male, getting his cock sucked. KK's body became almost rigid, like she'd been stunned.

KK, whispering breathlessly, "They're sucking each other! Oh my God, right in the open!"

Again, KK tugged on me, ushering us back up the hallway.

The next booth we visited was not necessarily by conscious choice - KK was wobbly, nervous, I was outrageously hard, almost bent over, we were being ogled so intensely it was palpable. We entered the second booth without perusing the door poster, almost as a means of escape.

I fed tokens in to start the video. The unfolding scene was a very young, petite white woman, being plowed by a huge, muscled, black male, with what appeared to be at least a foot of thick, veiny, enormous cock. KK was gasping for air as she watched. I put my hand under the hem of her dress to administer another finger-bang, incongruously she stopped me!

Instead, KK squatted on the floor, facing me. She undid my belt, unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans as if she was racing to put out a fire. KK took my cock out of my boxers, and went to town. I was alternating between the video clip, watching the little blond getting the ...... fucked out of her, and looking at KK, who was making full eye-contact while she sucked and licked my cock.

I fought to delay cumming until the clip ended, succeeding in doing so, unloading in KK's mouth. She swallowed almost every drop, leaving my cock clean, wet, and shiny, followed by a lascivious lick of my cock-head. What KK couldn't swallow dripped from her wet lips onto her bare, painted toes. As that was happening, there were a couple of soft knocks on the video booth's door...

Once we'd put ourselves back together, we exited the booth, me in the lead. There had to be ten, maybe more, strange men clustered around the door. One stranger was standing almost directly in front of the booth door, his cock out, in hand - he was furiously masturbating. Even in the dim light of the hallway, it was obvious he was erect. KK grabbed my hand, then I felt like she jumped or flinched - that was immediately followed by "Let's get out of here! I wanna go!"

We made a hurried exit, neither of us looking back, rushing to the car. Once I had KK inside, she blurted out, "A man touched my butt! Right under my dress, right in front of God and everybody!"

My reaction was an immediate, painful boner. I was speechless for a few minutes, trying to focus on driving, trying to absorb the experience. When I was able to speak, get my wits, I said, "Are you OK?"

KK said, "I guess so... can you believe some random dude would touch me like that, put his hand under my dress? Did you see that guy jerking himself? What the Hell! Was he jerking because of us?"

After a pause, I said, "Well, yes. That's what they're hoping for - some sexy, hot woman to play with. They're hoping that's why you were there..."

"Oh my fucking God! You think all those men wanted me, wanted to fuck me? Holy ......! Are they married? You've never fucked some girl like that, have you? Tell me!"

"Yes sweetie, they all wanted to fuck you. Every single one. Some are probably married, some are probably single, but they all want to put their cock in you..."

The rest of the ride home was in silence. We fucked like bunnies after, exhausting ourselves, repeatedly going at it until the wee hours of the morning. We were nearly too exhausted to go to work the next day.

After that second ABS visit, things got strange, at least for me. For days, then weeks, then months, I tried every technique I could think of to coax KK into another visit. In parallel, with my obsession re-awakened, I wove in pillow-talk fantasies of her fucking another man, or men, of her cheating, sneaking around.

Some I blended together - a visit to the ABS, sometimes with me, sometimes KK going solo, engaging in acts from exhibition to being ravaged by a man, or group of men in the booths. Most often, KK responded in what I considered a positive way, receptive during pillow-talk, followed by one or more smashing, writhing, screaming orgasms. Less often, she resisted the idea in some manner, discounting it, telling me I was "such a perv," or trying to get me to change the topic. It was always followed by some variant of "It'll never happen..."

As the weeks passed, I felt increasing frustration, anxiety, and sexual tension. This was a blend of desire to see KK engage in sex with another man, intensifying imagination over that scenario, and KK's apparent steadfast refusal to entertain my fantasy.

 

[jw_kk]

As the years passed, our lives went down many unexpected paths, some near catastrophic.

I've written about this in other confessions, so I'll avoid rehash to the extent it's required and unavoidable for context.

The end of my disastrous affair with Bev was coincident, simultaneous with the events surrounding my reconciliation with KK, and the transition to our hot wife lifestyle.

One of many elements of our reconciliation was a technique we discovered as part of joint counseling and therapy - a "game" we've come to call "Confession." Our therapist was fortunately progressive, open-minded, non-judgmental, not aiming to "fix" either of us. As such, one technique she guided KK and I in related to trust-building, the avoidance of past secrets that might pop up to derail aspects of our reconciliation.

Over-simplified, "Confession" was a technique we were taught that involved planning, "no harm, no foul" disclosure of some past secret, in an environment where each of us committed not to judge, become angry with, or otherwise act out hostility on the other - the "confessor."

We were to schedule it like a date night, in circumstances that would lead to sexual intimacy, without interruption or distraction. Our therapist suggested a long weekend, an overnight away from home, or even an afternoon/evening in some secluded "no-tell motel." She provided various scenarios that would serve as the "confessional," including venue, build-up, and so on.

KK and I were to take turns; alternating as "confessor" and "listener." In bed, as foreplay, we were to be bold, confessing, in detail some past sexual secret, be it a desire, an act, an infidelity, or related event. Notionally, sexual stimulation, arousal, lust and associated feelings would defuse otherwise hostile reaction from the "listener," allowing the "confessor" to open up, disclosing the secret.

Our therapist also provided suggested variations; some confessions might be true, disclosure of an actual event, while others might simply express an unrealized fantasy or desire. One twist was for the confessor to tell the story, while the receiver guessed whether, or not the confession was real or a fantasy.

The first experience was off the chart hot. In the trite theme of "ladies first," KK was the confessor, with me in the role of listener. Her first confession reached far, far back in time to our college days, just before KK broke off our engagement - she confessed the beginnings of her affair with Monty. It was so hot I experienced a completely spontaneous, hands-free orgasm and ejaculation, literally draining my balls, spurting jet after jet of cum, one of the most powerful orgasms I've ever experienced.

KK spared no details. My reaction stood on its own, no judgement, no anger, no hostility, just bliss, lust and the desire to hear more, to repeat that experience.

Two weeks later, it was my turn, reversing the role of listener with that of confessor. It took me the entire two weeks to sort out what I would confess to KK - my fear was palpable, given KK's usual near homicidal jealous reaction when it came to me and another women.

The event I chose to confess was a dalliance with KK's last college dorm roommate, a woman named Lisa. In part, that choice was driven by my internalized perception that it was just that, a dalliance. In part, it was driven by what I perceived was the least threatening of infidelity I could confess - KK never indicated she felt "threatened" by Lisa.

Lisa was not an obvious partner for me by any stretch. She was a high-school acquaintance who coincidentally attended the same university with KK and I. Lisa was a last-ditch attempt at trying to help KK find a stable dorm roommate, after a series of failed situations and hostile personality clashes. I was the one who introduced them. The involvement I had with Lisa beyond that was accidental, opportunistic, a morning fuck session in KK's dorm room bed, after KK left me there, essentially trapped in the room during curfew. Those details are unimportant.

The specific event I chose to confess was the "least harmless" I could muster from my inventory of memory. We were driving home during the winter break, the three of us sharing a ride. KK suffered (and still does) from intermittent motion-sickness. She ended up taking a little too much Dramamine, winding up in the back seat, out of it, asleep, leaving Lisa in the front passenger seat next to me. At a pit stop, Lisa returned to the car from the ladies room, with an odd smirk on her face. She was wearing a loose tank-top, baggy nylon athletic shorts; when Lisa got back into the car, something seemed off, different.

As we drove off, I found out what was different. Lisa had removed her bra and panties, leaving herself bare under that tank top and shorts. Her first move was hiking the leg up, so that her pussy was exposed. With KK asleep in the back seat, zonked out, we enjoyed more than 150-miles of finger-banging, cock-stroking, and road head, while I tried to keep between the ditches.

In part, my choice of confession topic was driven by the fact that there was no penetrating sex - as if that would somehow reduce the "crime" in KK's eyes.

I delivered the details to KK, in the bed of a cheap motel we booked for an afternoon/evening confessional session. It didn't go as poorly as I'd anticipated, but it was far different than my reaction to KK's confession. As I fingered KK, strumming her clit, whispering the details of the experience with Lisa in the car, KK was stroking my cock. As I finished my confession, her loving touch turned to a painful grip, a twisting motion on my balls.

KK completely ruined my orgasm; the intense pain as her grip tightened, as she twisted my sac was accompanied with, "I always knew you fucked that little whore... next time you'll have to tell me the whole truth. Every detail."

Two weeks later, it was once again KK's turn. To this day, her confession was one of the single most intense, erotic things she's ever disclosed. She took the two of us back full-circle, to the early days we were married, an event that took place after our first adult book store visit.

"Remember that place, the bookstore I got you to take me to, where we got our first porno?"

"Yes, I remember it just like it was yesterday, why?"

"Well, don't be mad... promise?"

"I promise."

"I went there by myself. More than once."

"By yourself? When?"

"The first time was while you were at work. You left some the tokens in your sock drawer. I found them when I was putting laundry away. They made me think of that place again, so I went to see on my own."

"I can't believe you went to that nasty place on your own! Why? What did you do there? Without me?"

"Yes. I really went. The first time I went without you was just to look. I wanted to see if any of the men would hit on me. I wanted to see how much attention I'd get.

I wore jeans and a T-shirt, no bra or panties - commando all the way. I looked around at all the dirty magazines and tapes for a while, letting men look at me. A couple of them stalked me all around the front of the store while I pretended not to notice. It kinda made me feel hot and sexy.

It made me wet. Is that bad?"

"No baby, it's not bad... did you do anything with those men?"

"Ummm, yes. One asked me if I wanted to go in the back and watch a video with him. So I did.

We went into a booth together. Lots of other guys were watching, crowding around. He shut the door and put tokens in the machine. He sat on the bench and made me stand in front of him, facing toward him. Then he lifted my T-shirt up and started touching my titties, pinching my nipples... I let him, 'cause it felt so hot and sexy..."

KK's confession had me on fire. I felt like I was going to explode, my cock and balls twitching, throbbing, completely engorged from listening to her describe the event.

"We traded places after a bit - I sat on the bench, with my top pulled up over my shoulders so he could see my titties. I touched him baby! I took his cock out of his jeans, and I touched him! He was big and hard. So hard. I made him cum with my hands... so naughty, he squirted his cum all over my titties!"

"Did you do anything else baby? Did you suck his cock? Did you fuck him?"

"No, but I made him lick it and kiss all his nasty cum off my titties. Then I put my shirt on and hauled ass outta there! I felt kinda bad for being such a dirty little slut!

I hurried home, stripped naked, and played with myself while I thought about what I'd just done - jacking some strange dude in a porn shop while you were at work... I came so many times from touching my pussy and clit."

"That's very hot and dirty baby. Did you like touching a stranger's hard dick? Did you want to do more? You said you went more than once?"

After a pause, KK continued:

"I fucking loved it! He was so big and hard, and his hands felt so good all over me.

I almost couldn't wait to visit again. I went back the next Monday, while you were at work. You have to promise you won't be mad... promise?"

I responded, "No baby, I won't be mad - I promise! Tell me!"

A little reluctantly, after a moment of hesitation, KK continued her confession.

"I waited until lunch time, when I thought more men might be there. I was so incredibly fucking horny, because of the last visit - and you probably don't remember, but I fucked your brains out that weekend, imagining what I might do on the next visit.

It was cold and rainy that Monday. I took a long hot shower, shaved my legs, and tried to decide what to wear. I sort of lost it, and decided to wear just my camisole and panties under my trench coat! God, isn't that fucking bad, I was such a stupid slut!

So I went back, nearly naked underneath that coat. I was almost terrified, but felt so fucking hot and sexy I got past it.

When I was inside, I spent about ten minutes "shopping" in the front of the store. Then a guy started getting really really close to me - he bumped up against me from behind; I could feel his hard dick pressing against my butt through his jeans!

I let him rub all up against my ass, and feel me up. I touched him! I touched his cock through his jeans, and it made me so goddamn wet...

He whispered in my ear to go in the back with him, to get to know one another better - I went!

We went into that back theater room together. Oh God, I'm so fucking bad, such a slut - I can't believe I'm telling you all this.

He asked if he could kiss me. God, I let him... I let him kiss me deep and hard, put his tongue in me, suck on my lips, bite them a little - it made me so fucking wet!

I let him kiss me for a while, then I sat in one of the chairs, and let my raincoat open up so he could see my sexy undies. He started touching me through my panties..."

By this point in KK's confession, I was leaking pre-cum, hard as steel, throbbing at the description KK was giving me of the event. She continued on, noting my arousal.

"God you're hard baby! Is this making you hot? Are you getting off on hearing about your naughty wife?

Such a dirty boy! Anyway, I got sopping wet from him touching me through my panties. By then a whole bunch of guys were in the room watching. Some of them were jerking their cocks...

I stopped him, took off my panties, and tossed them into the group of guys that were watching. He knelt down and started licking me! God it was hot, so nasty, to feel his tongue on me, to hear the wet, slurpy sounds. He made me cum baby - he sucked and licked my little clitty until I couldn't help myself, and I had such a big cum...

Then I did him... first I undid his jeans and got his cock out. He was big and hard, really pink and thick. No hair - that was the first totally shaved cock and balls I ever saw. I sucked it baby - I sucked his thick, hard cock like a dirty whore!

I couldn't help myself - I made him fuck my pussy. I helped him put his big cock inside me... I wanted it...

He didn't last very long though. After a few strokes, he came inside me! I couldn't believe it - I didn't really think about it, I just wanted him inside me...

His cock was so big. Thick, veiny, so hard! He fucked me so good, so deep. When he started cumming he was so loud - I could feel his cock in me, spazzing, pulsing. It made me cum again!

When he was done I got up out of the chair. There were so many men in the room I couldn't get past them to leave. I got trapped by a group of them, groping me, touching me, kissing me, all over, everywhere... so many hands! They fingered me, kissed me, and made me cum again - I came so hard I nearly ......!

I was hot all over, sweating, feeling dizzy, light headed. A couple of the men helped me get on my feet. I managed to get my wits, and get my raincoat covering me, then I hauled ass out of there. I felt like such a slut, a total whore!"

At that moment in KK's confession, my cock was drooling cum. I was throbbing, balls aching for relief. I managed to mutter, "What did you do next sweetie? Did you want to stay? Did you go home?"

There was another long pause, during that interlude, KK was teasing, tormenting my throbbing cock with her fingertips, massaging the pre-cum and semen oozing from the head into my glans.

KK kept on; "I got out of there as fast as I could and drove home!

When I got home, I smoked a doob, then I took a shower. I made myself cum in the shower, thinking about what happened.

Do you remember that night? I almost raped you when you got home from work I was so horny! Remember me sitting on your face? Making you eat me until I had a smashing cum? I felt like such a horny, dirty slut..."

I acknowledged the somewhat vague memory - KK developed a fondness for face-sitting and cum clean up, but I never really knew why.

With cum still oozing from my cock, my head was spinning, thoughts swirling, at KK's confession. I had no idea!

Since that time, there have been dozens more confessions. KK still has secrets, which I suspect I'll never know them all.

That night, KK closed out the confession with a blend of statements and questions. Some were introspective, in part rooted in guilt of her cheating, in part rooted in her own insecurities. She intimated that since the transition to the hot wife lifestyle, she felt better about herself, me, and us - "Now that I know I can scratch my itch, without judgement, I don't feel that awful edge, that craving that I can't satisfy."

My obsession will likely never die, and I'm lucky to have gotten what I asked for, as opposed to what I likely deserve.

 

[bhappy_39]

Hot story I loved it.

 

[rickncindy]

As the years passed, our lives went down many unexpected paths, some near catastrophic.

I've written about this in other confessions, so I'll avoid rehash to the extent it's required and unavoidable for context.

The end of my disastrous affair with Bev was coincident, simultaneous with the events surrounding my reconciliation with KK, and the transition to our hot wife lifestyle.

One of many elements of our reconciliation was a technique we discovered as part of joint counseling and therapy - a "game" we've come to call "Confession." Our therapist was fortunately progressive, open-minded, non-judgmental, not aiming to "fix" either of us. As such, one technique she guided KK and I in related to trust-building, the avoidance of past secrets that might pop up to derail aspects of our reconciliation.

Over-simplified, "Confession" was a technique we were taught that involved planning, "no harm, no foul" disclosure of some past secret, in an environment where each of us committed not to judge, become angry with, or otherwise act out hostility on the other - the "confessor."

We were to schedule it like a date night, in circumstances that would lead to sexual intimacy, without interruption or distraction. Our therapist suggested a long weekend, an overnight away from home, or even an afternoon/evening in some secluded "no-tell motel." She provided various scenarios that would serve as the "confessional," including venue, build-up, and so on.

KK and I were to take turns; alternating as "confessor" and "listener." In bed, as foreplay, we were to be bold, confessing, in detail some past sexual secret, be it a desire, an act, an infidelity, or related event. Notionally, sexual stimulation, arousal, lust and associated feelings would defuse otherwise hostile reaction from the "listener," allowing the "confessor" to open up, disclosing the secret.

Our therapist also provided suggested variations; some confessions might be true, disclosure of an actual event, while others might simply express an unrealized fantasy or desire. One twist was for the confessor to tell the story, while the receiver guessed whether, or not the confession was real or a fantasy.

The first experience was off the chart hot. In the trite theme of "ladies first," KK was the confessor, with me in the role of listener. Her first confession reached far, far back in time to our college days, just before KK broke off our engagement - she confessed the beginnings of her affair with Monty. It was so hot I experienced a completely spontaneous, hands-free orgasm and ejaculation, literally draining my balls, spurting jet after jet of cum, one of the most powerful orgasms I've ever experienced.

KK spared no details. My reaction stood on its own, no judgement, no anger, no hostility, just bliss, lust and the desire to hear more, to repeat that experience.

Two weeks later, it was my turn, reversing the role of listener with that of confessor. It took me the entire two weeks to sort out what I would confess to KK - my fear was palpable, given KK's usual near homicidal jealous reaction when it came to me and another women.

The event I chose to confess was a dalliance with KK's last college dorm roommate, a woman named Lisa. In part, that choice was driven by my internalized perception that it was just that, a dalliance. In part, it was driven by what I perceived was the least threatening of infidelity I could confess - KK never indicated she felt "threatened" by Lisa.

Lisa was not an obvious partner for me by any stretch. She was a high-school acquaintance who coincidentally attended the same university with KK and I. Lisa was a last-ditch attempt at trying to help KK find a stable dorm roommate, after a series of failed situations and hostile personality clashes. I was the one who introduced them. The involvement I had with Lisa beyond that was accidental, opportunistic, a morning fuck session in KK's dorm room bed, after KK left me there, essentially trapped in the room during curfew. Those details are unimportant.

The specific event I chose to confess was the "least harmless" I could muster from my inventory of memory. We were driving home during the winter break, the three of us sharing a ride. KK suffered (and still does) from intermittent motion-sickness. She ended up taking a little too much Dramamine, winding up in the back seat, out of it, asleep, leaving Lisa in the front passenger seat next to me. At a pit stop, Lisa returned to the car from the ladies room, with an odd smirk on her face. She was wearing a loose tank-top, baggy nylon athletic shorts; when Lisa got back into the car, something seemed off, different.

As we drove off, I found out what was different. Lisa had removed her bra and panties, leaving herself bare under that tank top and shorts. Her first move was hiking the leg up, so that her pussy was exposed. With KK asleep in the back seat, zonked out, we enjoyed more than 150-miles of finger-banging, cock-stroking, and road head, while I tried to keep between the ditches.

In part, my choice of confession topic was driven by the fact that there was no penetrating sex - as if that would somehow reduce the "crime" in KK's eyes.

I delivered the details to KK, in the bed of a cheap motel we booked for an afternoon/evening confessional session. It didn't go as poorly as I'd anticipated, but it was far different than my reaction to KK's confession. As I fingered KK, strumming her clit, whispering the details of the experience with Lisa in the car, KK was stroking my cock. As I finished my confession, her loving touch turned to a painful grip, a twisting motion on my balls.

KK completely ruined my orgasm; the intense pain as her grip tightened, as she twisted my sac was accompanied with, "I always knew you fucked that little whore... next time you'll have to tell me the whole truth. Every detail."

Two weeks later, it was once again KK's turn. To this day, her confession was one of the single most intense, erotic things she's ever disclosed. She took the two of us back full-circle, to the early days we were married, an event that took place after our first adult book store visit.

"Remember that place, the bookstore I got you to take me to, where we got our first porno?"

"Yes, I remember it just like it was yesterday, why?"

"Well, don't be mad... promise?"

"I promise."

"I went there by myself. More than once."

"By yourself? When?"

"The first time was while you were at work. You left some the tokens in your sock drawer. I found them when I was putting laundry away. They made me think of that place again, so I went to see on my own."

"I can't believe you went to that nasty place on your own! Why? What did you do there? Without me?"

"Yes. I really went. The first time I went without you was just to look. I wanted to see if any of the men would hit on me. I wanted to see how much attention I'd get.

I wore jeans and a T-shirt, no bra or panties - commando all the way. I looked around at all the dirty magazines and tapes for a while, letting men look at me. A couple of them stalked me all around the front of the store while I pretended not to notice. It kinda made me feel hot and sexy.

It made me wet. Is that bad?"

"No baby, it's not bad... did you do anything with those men?"

"Ummm, yes. One asked me if I wanted to go in the back and watch a video with him. So I did.

We went into a booth together. Lots of other guys were watching, crowding around. He shut the door and put tokens in the machine. He sat on the bench and made me stand in front of him, facing toward him. Then he lifted my T-shirt up and started touching my titties, pinching my nipples... I let him, 'cause it felt so hot and sexy..."

KK's confession had me on fire. I felt like I was going to explode, my cock and balls twitching, throbbing, completely engorged from listening to her describe the event.

"We traded places after a bit - I sat on the bench, with my top pulled up over my shoulders so he could see my titties. I touched him baby! I took his cock out of his jeans, and I touched him! He was big and hard. So hard. I made him cum with my hands... so naughty, he squirted his cum all over my titties!"

"Did you do anything else baby? Did you suck his cock? Did you fuck him?"

"No, but I made him lick it and kiss all his nasty cum off my titties. Then I put my shirt on and hauled ass outta there! I felt kinda bad for being such a dirty little slut!

I hurried home, stripped naked, and played with myself while I thought about what I'd just done - jacking some strange dude in a porn shop while you were at work... I came so many times from touching my pussy and clit."

"That's very hot and dirty baby. Did you like touching a stranger's hard dick? Did you want to do more? You said you went more than once?"

After a pause, KK continued:

"I fucking loved it! He was so big and hard, and his hands felt so good all over me.

I almost couldn't wait to visit again. I went back the next Monday, while you were at work. You have to promise you won't be mad... promise?"

I responded, "No baby, I won't be mad - I promise! Tell me!"

A little reluctantly, after a moment of hesitation, KK continued her confession.

"I waited until lunch time, when I thought more men might be there. I was so incredibly fucking horny, because of the last visit - and you probably don't remember, but I fucked your brains out that weekend, imagining what I might do on the next visit.

It was cold and rainy that Monday. I took a long hot shower, shaved my legs, and tried to decide what to wear. I sort of lost it, and decided to wear just my camisole and panties under my trench coat! God, isn't that fucking bad, I was such a stupid slut!

So I went back, nearly naked underneath that coat. I was almost terrified, but felt so fucking hot and sexy I got past it.

When I was inside, I spent about ten minutes "shopping" in the front of the store. Then a guy started getting really really close to me - he bumped up against me from behind; I could feel his hard dick pressing against my butt through his jeans!

I let him rub all up against my ass, and feel me up. I touched him! I touched his cock through his jeans, and it made me so goddamn wet...

He whispered in my ear to go in the back with him, to get to know one another better - I went!

We went into that back theater room together. Oh God, I'm so fucking bad, such a slut - I can't believe I'm telling you all this.

He asked if he could kiss me. God, I let him... I let him kiss me deep and hard, put his tongue in me, suck on my lips, bite them a little - it made me so fucking wet!

I let him kiss me for a while, then I sat in one of the chairs, and let my raincoat open up so he could see my sexy undies. He started touching me through my panties..."

By this point in KK's confession, I was leaking pre-cum, hard as steel, throbbing at the description KK was giving me of the event. She continued on, noting my arousal.

"God you're hard baby! Is this making you hot? Are you getting off on hearing about your naughty wife?

Such a dirty boy! Anyway, I got sopping wet from him touching me through my panties. By then a whole bunch of guys were in the room watching. Some of them were jerking their cocks...

I stopped him, took off my panties, and tossed them into the group of guys that were watching. He knelt down and started licking me! God it was hot, so nasty, to feel his tongue on me, to hear the wet, slurpy sounds. He made me cum baby - he sucked and licked my little clitty until I couldn't help myself, and I had such a big cum...

Then I did him... first I undid his jeans and got his cock out. He was big and hard, really pink and thick. No hair - that was the first totally shaved cock and balls I ever saw. I sucked it baby - I sucked his thick, hard cock like a dirty whore!

I couldn't help myself - I made him fuck my pussy. I helped him put his big cock inside me... I wanted it...

He didn't last very long though. After a few strokes, he came inside me! I couldn't believe it - I didn't really think about it, I just wanted him inside me...

His cock was so big. Thick, veiny, so hard! He fucked me so good, so deep. When he started cumming he was so loud - I could feel his cock in me, spazzing, pulsing. It made me cum again!

When he was done I got up out of the chair. There were so many men in the room I couldn't get past them to leave. I got trapped by a group of them, groping me, touching me, kissing me, all over, everywhere... so many hands! They fingered me, kissed me, and made me cum again - I came so hard I nearly ......!

I was hot all over, sweating, feeling dizzy, light headed. A couple of the men helped me get on my feet. I managed to get my wits, and get my raincoat covering me, then I hauled ass out of there. I felt like such a slut, a total whore!"

At that moment in KK's confession, my cock was drooling cum. I was throbbing, balls aching for relief. I managed to mutter, "What did you do next sweetie? Did you want to stay? Did you go home?"

There was another long pause, during that interlude, KK was teasing, tormenting my throbbing cock with her fingertips, massaging the pre-cum and semen oozing from the head into my glans.

KK kept on; "I got out of there as fast as I could and drove home!

When I got home, I smoked a doob, then I took a shower. I made myself cum in the shower, thinking about what happened.

Do you remember that night? I almost raped you when you got home from work I was so horny! Remember me sitting on your face? Making you eat me until I had a smashing cum? I felt like such a horny, dirty slut..."

I acknowledged the somewhat vague memory - KK developed a fondness for face-sitting and cum clean up, but I never really knew why.

With cum still oozing from my cock, my head was spinning, thoughts swirling, at KK's confession. I had no idea!

Since that time, there have been dozens more confessions. KK still has secrets, which I suspect I'll never know them all.

That night, KK closed out the confession with a blend of statements and questions. Some were introspective, in part rooted in guilt of her cheating, in part rooted in her own insecurities. She intimated that since the transition to the hot wife lifestyle, she felt better about herself, me, and us - "Now that I know I can scratch my itch, without judgement, I don't feel that awful edge, that craving that I can't satisfy."

My obsession will likely never die, and I'm lucky to have gotten what I asked for, as opposed to what I likely deserve.

Damn man! Fucking hot!!