I'm a teacher, 28 years old, married for 8 years. My husband is a good man and we get along very well, including in sex. I can say that every other day we have sex and it's truly crazy, he satisfies me completely.A few days ago, we were invited to a 15th birthday party for one of my students. At the party, I ran into a friend who's also a teacher, and we sat at the same table. After a while, another friend from college arrived. They were all accompanied by their respective husbands.
Hello, my name is Castro (fictitious name), I am a 24-year-old boy, strong and healthy.My mother is a 38-year-old woman, she is young and well preserved, red-haired, short, a little chubby, white and with silicone.
In my constant search for situations that deviate from the routine of sex in marriage, I thought about an erotic massage. I decided to talk about it with my wife, who actually found it interesting. But when I mentioned that the idea would be massages and caresses in the most intimate areas, she immediately closed all the doors and called me crazy.
I was at a party with some friends when I first saw her. Her neon pink hair caught my eye from afar, but what really captivated me were the tattoos covering her slim body. She wore a short skirt and a tight top, laughing with some friends as if she were in her own world. I watched from afar, unsure of how to approach.
My boyfriend decided to have a night owl party with his friends. He took advantage of his parents' trip and arranged for everyone to bring their computers and play games all night. Coincidentally, it was the weekend I was there too. He asked if it was okay, and I promptly said no. I knew his friends and always enjoyed watching them having fun.
What I'm about to tell you isn't a fictional story; it happened in reality. Although my 25-year marriage was going smoothly, sexually, it was as cold as Siberia. My wife and I maintained only formal dialogue, for public consumption. In bed, we rarely had any kind of contact, such was the disinterest on both sides. Our sex life prior to this period was quite conventional. Although we had sex fairly frequently, we didn't engage in more daring practices. Oral sex was as conventional as it gets, and anal sex was out of the question. It was missionary sex with very few variations. Despite everything, I never imagined my wife would cheat on me. It didn't seem like her. She didn't display any traits of a fiery, sex-hungry woman.
We entered the specialty together; she's a little younger than me—24, I'm 26. She's not exactly my body type: lightly tanned white skin, small breasts, but with hips that stand out discreetly. Her butt isn't bad at all; you can tell she used to work out. I think it was her smile, her personality, that started to catch my attention.Ever since we met, I've been teasing her, always jokingly, never to make her feel bad. It's my way of getting attention. She always fought back, then started getting closer (although I suspected she really wanted to be close to me rather than actually face me).
Our relationship has always been a deep and relentless exploration of the world of BDSM, an intricate dance where I, as Master, proudly observe the mastery with which she, my Dominant, commands not only me, but now also a new submissive we've decided to incorporate into our unique dynamic. This is no mere fantasy; it's a lifestyle, a carefully constructed universe where dark desires and limits are tested with watchmaker precision. In this ecosystem of pleasure and pain, we find a young woman in her early twenties, with ebony hair and green eyes that blended fear and excitement in an irresistible combination. Though inexperienced, she displayed a curiosity bordering on addiction, a thirst for submission she could barely conceal. She was ready to surrender herself to the commands of my partner, this goddess of cruel wisdom whom I so admired.