Sitting at the bar, thinking...

As a working mother, I have to make sure that my Hotwife endeavors don't compromise my family or my job performance. I'm hopeful that my new position at work will not be as stressful as my previous job (something that I never really blogged about, but I was very unhappy in my old department). So far, my new schedule is better, and we are enjoying more time together, rather than acting like two ships that pass in the night. So time is on my side again, and I'm ready to play.

Last night, I went out in hopes of finding a playmate, but came home without a confession to share with my husband. As I sipped my drink at the bar (no Tequila this time!) I thought about my previous successful Hotwife nights and some of
the men I've seen.

Although it started off with threesomes with my husband and other men, there was one guy who really initiated me into this lifestyle of seeing other men alone, although he will never know it. Our passionate encounters turned me on more than I ever though possible in regards to my extramarital activities. I wish I had paid more attention to the details of that first night. I was so excited and overwhelmed by it all that I neglected to take the time to commit the details to my memory.

I do remember feeling surprised that I was actually flirting with and kissing another man and then moving forward to sex with him (this was REALLY happening!). I also remember feeling shocked when he took my hand and placed it on the growing bulge in his jeans. When we talked, there was a mutual connection, a sense of naughtiness and attraction, all of which added to our experiences together. That first night the sex was a blur, my mind reeling as I desperately tried to keep up with everything that was happening. Even though it lasted hours, it seemed like it was over in minutes and I'd lost much of that night forever. In retrospect, I wonder if I should have continued that relationship when it began to wane. Oh well.

I also thought about my third lover.
Despite some issues I had with him after the fact, I still enjoyed my encounters with him. There was a strong attraction between us, and with him I learned to shed any last shred of guilt I ever had about sex outside my marriage. He was the only man that I have been with longer than a year in my Hotwife adventures.

Then there was the guy I did in the truck one night. I would be lying if I did not say that I'm a little disappointed that he
never contacted me after that night. I thought about his thick cock for days, no weeks, after sucking him and giving him a hand job. I enjoyed our conversation and our playtime. That encounter left me hungry for more.

So hungry in fact, that I've started checking out Ashley Madison again. I have not seriously tried to find a playmate on there, but getting wink messages is entertaining! My profile might be getting stale. I'm thinking of adding some pics. That always helps.

I seldom think back to my pre-Hotwifing days any more. As any of my regular readers know, my
early posts explained how vanilla and unsatisfying my sex life was in my first marriage. There are few tales to tell or recall from that time in my life.

Sitting at that bar I realized how special my life has become now. My husband and I are both enjoying the Hotwife lifestyle more than I ever imagined we could! I enjoy the process of getting ready to go out with hopes of a sexual encounter with a new friend. The thrill of the chase turns me on. The 'newness' factor arouses me. The first look, the first touch, and first kiss ignite something deep inside me. I still can't believe how much my husband is turned on by having a me as a Hotwife. Honestly, I can't believe how turned on I get from this double life, too.
Well, I have created a potpourri post equivalent to a sitcom clip show. It's just a random collage of my thoughts as I was sitting at the bar waiting for the Marlboro Man to strut in and make his way to me. I did everything right. I was dressed to catch. I sat alone with an empty seat beside me. I smiled and did my best to look approachable.

But alas, I returned home empty handed. Or perhaps "empty" would be more legitimate, considering my goal. Don't you agree?