My wife and I, both 35 now, are South Asian immigrants living in the US. We've been here for about 10 years, having moved to attend grad school and married shortly before. We both went to the same school but in different departments. My wife is a stunning woman; many Americans mistake her for a Latina due to her 5’ 3” stature, dusky skin, full breasts, and lean waist. Her curves are accentuated by her hourglass figure, and her dark, almond-shaped eyes sparkle with mischief. She has an outgoing personality and a strong character.
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For a long time, I've harbored a hotwifing/cucking fantasy, sparked by my ex-girlfriend cheating on me during college. I wanted to discuss this with my wife, but life in the US kept us busy. My wife has a voracious sexual appetite, and even after three years of marriage, she was eager for sex almost daily. She's multi-orgasmic, capable of reaching climax multiple times in a single session. To spice things up, I introduced her to porn, which we watched before sex. She enjoyed it, so I gradually started playing hotwife-themed movies, noticing how aroused I became by these scenarios. One day, she asked if this was something I fantasized about, and I confessed that I found it extremely hot. To my surprise, she agreed that sex and love could be separate, and she was willing to explore this further. We didn't rush into anything; safety was her top priority.
We created a dating profile for her, and she used her face picture since we had few friends and relatives in the US. She received many responses but was disappointed by most guys' eagerness for quick encounters and their rude behavior, including sending unsolicited dick pics. She always disclosed her marital status and that her husband was aware.
One mature gentleman, 58 at the time, caught her attention. He was respectful and admitted his age might be a barrier, but he enjoyed their conversations. He suggested having dinner with both of us, claiming it would make him feel younger. We were intrigued, partly because we were broke grad students and partly because we saw it as a good trial experience. We met him at an expensive seafood restaurant, where my wife wore a black tube dress that ended four inches above her knees. John, as we'll call him, greeted us warmly, giving my wife a quick hug and briefly placing his hands on her bum. This small gesture sent a thrill through my body.
John had reserved a U-shaped booth in a romantic, dimly lit corner of the restaurant. My wife sat in the middle, with John and me on either side. He told us he was married but his wife had lost interest in sex a long time ago. He was a successful businessman with kids around our age and was very interested in getting to know us better. He talked about his business and his experiences, but never brought up sex. He was generous, ordering the most expensive items on the menu and insisting we try his whisky.
Towards the end of the dinner, I noticed my wife react to something under the table. She subtly indicated that John had placed his hand on her thigh. I was nervous but excited. My wife, ever in control, gently but firmly moved his hand back to her thigh, saying, "John, this isn't something we agreed to today." He apologized, explaining how excited he felt, and was more than happy to continue their conversation while slowly caressing her thigh.
After dinner, John insisted on giving us a ride. We were shocked to find that his car was a Porsche 911 Carrera. He opened the front door for my wife and himself, directing me to the small back seat. My wife, starstruck by the impressive car, asked John about its features and specs, her eyes wide with admiration. John, flattered by her interest, proudly answered her questions, his hand resting casually on her thigh as he drove. As we cruised through the downtown streets, John's hand began to move upwards, his fingers tracing a path to her crotch. My wife, caught off guard, playfully asked, "Oh come on, you don’t take no for an answer, do you?"
John, emboldened, complimented her beauty and expressed his desire to feel a younger, exotic woman like her again. This turned my wife on, and she loosened her legs, giving him better access. John's fingers expertly rubbed over her thong, the thin fabric doing little to hide her growing arousal. I could hear my wife making little sexy noises, her breath hitching as John's touch sent waves of pleasure through her body. The car's interior was filled with the sounds of her growing excitement, and I found myself equally aroused and nervous, wondering where this unplanned encounter would lead. Suddenly, John pulled into a dark parking area, the car's engine purring softly. He turned towards my wife, his eyes filled with desire. My wife leaned back, closing her eyes and letting him pull down her thong. He sank two fingers into her vagina, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment.
He felt her breasts over her dress, his other hand exploring her curves.
"The way you feel, so wet and tight," John murmured, his voice low and husky. "I could do this all night."
My wife moaned softly, her hips beginning to move in time with his touches.
"John, that feels incredible," she breathed, her voice filled with lust. "Don't stop." John chuckled, a deep, throaty sound. "Oh, I have no intention of stopping, my dear. Not until you come all over my fingers." He pushed another finger into her, stretching her, the sounds of their coupling echoing in the car. My wife arched her body, pushing herself against his hand, her own hands roaming over her breasts, squeezing and teasing her nipples.
"Fuck," she moaned, her voice a mixture of pleasure and surprise. "John, that feels so good. I'm so close." John leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "Come for me, beautiful. Let me feel that pussy squeeze my fingers." My wife's breath came in ragged gasps, her body shaking with anticipation. "John, I'm… I'm coming," she cried out, her voice filled with raw, unfiltered pleasure. With a loud moan and a mixture of grunts, she orgasmed, her body convulsing with pleasure. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her body shook with the force of her release.
John kept fingering her, his movements slower now, drawing out her pleasure. She came back to her senses, feeling a rush of embarrassment and a post-orgasm clarity. The reality of what had just happened hit her hard, and she quickly covered herself, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and satisfaction. John, not ready to stop, kept asking us to go to a hotel with him. When we declined, he aggressively kicked us out of the car.
We took a taxi home, and I made sure she was okay. She apologized for letting things get out of hand, but I assured her it was incredible. We had the most intense sex that night, and that marked the beginning of our hotwife journey. Since then, my wife has been with 16 other men, each experience more thrilling than the last.
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