Marring

After meeting this older woman who introduced me into the world of sex as a tenable hobby or past time, rather than an intimate encounter with a lone human, my perspective of dating began to change even more.

My curiosity led me to conduct several searches on the web to find a website similar to adultfriendfinder.com and others that populate a browser at the most inconvenient times. I found several, but most notable was a large online community of swingers. I signed up, and used the prowess of my emotional intelligence to craft a profile that appealed to only the best and finest swingers. At this point, I had developed one of the very best physiques, my education was that of the finest universities in the world, and my broad range of interests and studies allowed me to discuss topics from business and politics, to literature and psychology and other philosophically relevant topics relating to the universal human condition. Everything that would make me an ideal suitor. My verbal agility, and cool confidence put the most anxious couples at ease.

I immediately attracted attention on the website. My profile was well curated, carefully crafted with flattering pictures and sophisticated interests. My aim was to be the “bull” of their dreams.

One of my first encounters was with a middle to upper class couple. They owned a very successful service business in the area. Discretion, as with all these couples, or at least the ones I was interested in sleeping with, was their highest priority.

The wife was between 5″8 and 5″10, with long legs, a firm round ass, and toned throughout. Her body was chiseled, with defined abs, round glutes, and an overall well formed physique. She was curious and sophisticated, working out regularly and keeping up with the times. She had a passion that emanated. She was blonde, with an even tan, and a kind of smile that flashed as bright as lightning, only to fade as quickly as it came. The couple was around forty years of age.

I met them at their modest suburban property, which had been thoroughly gentrified, as if, rather than upgrading their estate and buying new property, they just invested in making what was initially a modest ranch home into an elaborate retreat home. They had a lavish pool and hot tub, a large fishing boat, or two. Inside was crown molding, the finest electronics, large tile and wood floors throughout, beautifully crafted cabinets with granite countertops. Their yard was large and well manicured, sitting a good half acre from the main road.

I arrived on my first visit to be greeted by the husband. Their little Chihuahua looking creature barked, or coughed and hacked, at my arrival. “Don’t mind him. He’s a little rascal, but harmless.” He shook my hand, and I stepped inside, into the orange glow of their sun room, and out of the gray fading twilight.

The husband was roughly my height, maybe an inch shorter. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and was freshly tanned, with lines etching his face. There was a youthful glow hidden beneath his drunk and possibly high exterior. His demeanor was very casual and friendly. His build was rather average, and he possessed a modest beer belly that poked gently from the bottom of his shirt. They were a good couple, although she seemed to possess more energy and zeal than him.

His wife walked in from the hallway as I stepped into the kitchen. I smiled and reached my arm out to greet her, and she stepped in for a hug and kiss on the cheek. Her legs went for miles. She walked on high heels and wore a tight fitted pair of shorts. I could tell she was slightly self conscious wearing them, and she immediately told her husband that she wanted to take them off. “But baby, you look good, and you wanna look sexy for him. Don’t they look good?” He looked at me and motioned to her, as if to coax a response. “You look amazing.” I said this with conviction, so as to assuage any insecurities she may have been feeling.

He offered me drinks, pouring me a Scotch, which is what I offered up as my drink of choice when he told me he would be taking care of the alcohol for the evening.

We stepped out on the patio and began discussing our background. He talked of his business, how they met each other, the ground rules for engagement. She was the center of attention. What she wanted, she got.

He sat on the porch, smoking his cigarettes. I noticed a large rifle sitting behind him, leaning in the corner. He mentioned it as merely a precaution, and I empathized in agreement, that you can’t be too careful with strangers.

He pulled out a bowl and took a hit, and then asked if I minded that he was smoking. “No, not all at, you’re good.” He offered me a hit. I politely refused, knowing that my nerves didn’t need additional excitation.

They complimented my body, and his wife told me how handsome I was. I returned the compliments, genuinely thanking them for surpassing my expectations.

We then proceeded to the bathroom where we prepared to go into the hot tub. I stripped naked with him. He commented on my large cock, and played with his as he talked with how he’s comfortable with his fairly average penis. His wife walked in naked. Her body was a perfect specimen. He tits were small, but still shapely for her age. They hung ever so slightly, indicating her true age, and not the age of her body, which appeared to resemble a thirty year old in her prime. He hit the bowl several more times, handed me a towel and we went outside.

I’ll continue with more stories in another post…

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