Habits of a Hotwife

Info adamgunn
08 Jan. '20

Although presented as fiction, this is a description of the type of evening my wife and I have often had. 

My purpose for writing this is to show the cycle of a Hotwife beginning with the consideration of the LifeStyle, then after becoming experienced the progression from first contact with a potential partner to passion and aftermath. It is my hope by reading this women who want to be a hotwife, men who wish their wives would engage in such activities and gentlemen who would like to be with a hotwife can learn proven techniques. There are, of course, alternate ways to accomplish this, my story is only a description of of a pattern my wife and I successfully use. But this approach does work for many people.

Because the on-line description of the hotwife is very important if she is to get the quality and quantity of the dates she desires, the SwingLifeStyle (SLS) profile HotWifeMary actually exists. A copy of the profile is attached to this story.



It was late on a Tuesday evening, after dinner I hopped on my laptop and started checking my email and favorite sites. Twenty minutes later I directed my browser to SwingLifeStyle.com, where we have my wife’s profile. My wife likes to make love with other men, I like watching her in the act.

How did we get into it, you ask?

Slowly, carefully.

After years of marriage our sex life was flat, we both knew something was needed. We tried spicing it up, got temporary relief but then reverted to lethargy. Then we found a site, mojoupgrade.com. It was a test about what we wanted to do sexually, each of us answered a series of questions, at the end the computer showed us where our desires matched.

Some of it was stuff we already knew, like playing soft music in the bedroom, anal sex and being more playful. I already suspected she wasn’t into slapping or spanking or other BDSM activities, the quiz confirmed my hunch.

But I got a couple of very big surprises. One, she wouldn’t mind having sex in front of others as long as nobody touched us, and the other was she answered she’d like to ‘have sex with another person while partner watches.’

Naturally, I was immediately cursed with a spat of jealousy - my wife wanted to fuck another man!?! - but I managed to keep my cool. Our first conversation about it was quite short and brusque, but I considered her desire over a few days. I knew she’d had her share of men before we met and married, would it be so terrible if she had one more at this point of our lives? The following weekend as we made love in our marital bed, I tried to envision it wasn’t me that was screwing her, but an anonymous man, and I found it was a little bit of a turn on, at least in fantasy.

Afterwards we laid in our bed and had the conversation.

“Really, you’d like to have another guy?” I asked.

“Honestly? If you didn’t mind, I think I’d like to try. But I’d understand if you don’t want me to.”

“If I don’t, do you think you’ll cheat, have an affair?”

“Oh, never!” she insisted. “Number one, I love you too much to ever hurt you. Second, I wouldn’t want it to feel dirty. I cheated on one of my boyfriends once, it just felt terrible.”

“What’s the attraction?” I asked.

“Sex,” she admitted, “pure and simple. I enjoy the way we make love, usually, but I’d like to experience how another man would be. I remember how before we met I’d have different boyfriends, it was always different. I’d like that variety again.”

It wasn’t the last conversation we had. And we tried other things. For example one night we went to a swingers club and screwed in the orgy room while people surrounded us. 

We went round and round on the subject for over a year. We role played the concept, using either a dildo or me as her other lover, I began to get more and more inspired. And she told me if it ever happened, she wouldn’t mind at all if I watched her. In fact she’d like me in the vicinity, it would give her a feeling of safety, she thought.

Finally, I gave in. I told her that once, just once, she could have another partner if I could watch. The problem was we didn’t know how to find a guy for her. We considered a divorced friend, she got nervous about our reputation, said we should avoid any of our friends or coworkers. She tried to get picked up in a bar. Although she was good at flirting - she got three or four offers on various nights - when they found out she wanted me to be in the room they’d take a hike. 

Then one night we went back to the club, she was going to find a man come hell or high water. And she did, the three of us disappeared into a private room. I was hooked from the moment he first kissed her, having no problems with any jealousy; it was good we’d contemplated it so long, I was mentally prepared for the view of my wife’s breast being held by this other man. I sat on the couch, watched him strip Mary, and when he was naked I saw his cock wasn’t any bigger than mine. Mary enthusiastically sucked on it, I nearly came in my pants watching it slide in and out of her mouth. She laid on the bed, her legs spread, her gap displayed for his tongue. I’ll admit I became slightly flustered when I heard her heavy breathing and the low moans that have always accompanied her orgasms - previously only I’d heard them, now some other man was not only eavesdropping on those sounds, he was the one causing them! A few minutes later, he rolled a condom onto his rod and crawled above her. She grabbed at the prick and pointed it towards her snatch. As he thrust forward, I realized I’d lost something precious, my wife’s faithfulness, but at the same time I wondered at the live porn I was seeing before me.

They wrestled together, I saw her legs and arms flail, his hips move forward and back, her ass pressed into the mattress as they fucked. She moaned, she screamed, after some time they shifted into cowgirl. Again they began their movements, her breasts bounced. Suddenly I heard him say, “I’m going to come,” and I watched my wife move her groin forward and back, her tunnel surrounding the spasms of his ejaculation. While he came, his eyes closed and his fists clenched, Mary looked at me and smiled.

After it was over the stranger didn’t linger. A little petting, a kiss, then he dressed and with a note of thanks and a suggestion they do this again, he left.

Mary attacked me, stripping me as she’d done the other man, she saw I was ready and kneeled on the bed. Soon I was penetrating the slitch where the other man had been, and Mary ensured I was as satisfied as she was.

I was the one who suggested we do it again. We found out about SLS and put up her profile. The flood gates opened, in the first week we got over a hundred emails from guys who wanted her. 

Four years later we’re still having fun, and it’s cool. I’d imagine in that time she’s been in bed at least fifty or sixty times, with perhaps twenty-five different men. And I’ve watched her most times; I never get tired of it.


That Tuesday night I found four new messages on SLS that had come in the last forty-eight hours, somewhat typical. Before the site required you to be a paid member to send a message to us, we might receive fifty messages a week. But most of them weren’t serious about it or the attached profiles didn’t attract us.

The first message read simply ‘u look great wanna fuck’ Of course I passed on it without bothering to reply.

The second was a little politer. ‘Ive been watching your profile. Id love to c more pictures of you and get togeher with you. Do u solo.’ In addition to the typos, the man hadn’t used the magic word at the start of the message, he’d asked for more pictures, and he asked Mary to go off with him, leaving me behind. Without looking at the profile, I simply replied, ‘no, thank you.’ Usually that was that, but sometimes guys like this pester us, if they do we simply block them.

The third was more like it, from a man identified as ‘Novigent.’ ‘Pacific. How are you, Mary? I live in the Detroit area and sometimes get over to Pittsburgh on business. I was wondering if you’d like to meet me for dinner. Of course your husband is invited. Let me know.’ This was much better. He’d used the secret word, ‘pacific’; it was buried in the last section of our profile, an indication the guy had carefully read our text. I looked up his profile, it was a bit terse but nothing objectionable. There was only one picture, a man in a blue suit holding a martini, his face scribbled over so he wouldn’t be recognized. Not bad, I thought, and Mary has been known to entertain traveling salesmen before. I wrote back. ‘You look great, novigent. Tell us more about you, please. What are your hobbies? Are you married?’ 

I realized the last one was the cat’s meow as soon as I read the message from NewToTheGame.


Dear Mary,

Let me first tell you how attractive your pictures are. 

I’m a newly divorced man, it was final not too long ago. My wife and I talked a few times of getting into the lifestyle, but we never did. I’m very curious about it, I’d like to talk to you and your husband about it. 

If you have any interest in me, please let me know, Michael.’

I looked over his profile. Five foot ten, one hundred seventy five pounds, forty-three years old. He’d written a wonderful profile, telling of his desire to be with a woman or a couple in the LifeStyle. His hobbies included wine tasting and softball. He had three pictures, one of him in a softball uniform, one of his face - it was probably cropped from a formal family portrait - and a final one that didn’t include his face. It showed him only in black boxer briefs, a lump in his groin, thin legs and arms, just a little stomach paunch. In particular, there were no pictures of his uncovered genitals; those are simply unnecessary, both Mary and I find them gross.

I wrote back, “Michael, this is Mary’s husband, Adam. I scan all messages, Mary likes me to filter them. You write a good profile. Sorry about the divorce. Let me understand you, all you want to do is talk to us about the LifeStyle?”

A couple of minutes later my computer dinged, it was from Michael, he must have been on-line. “Thanks for replying. Most couples so far haven’t. Yes, I’d really like to understand it better. I’ve been on the forums for a couple of years, so I know the lingo. I just don’t comprehend it completely. But I wouldn’t mind a practical demonstration.” That made me laugh out loud. 

I wrote back, telling Michael some of our traditions. It was mostly canned stuff, boiler plate I send guys who get to the second round. He replied telling me he understood, then I wrote back, “We usually only play weekend evenings. Would it be a problem for you?” Some guys balk when they hear this, try for a meeting during the week, sometimes they even say they can only get together at lunch time. This is one of the hallmarks of cheating husbands. It’s not that Mary has never lain with a married man, but she hates frauds, the possibility for drama is too high. Michael quickly indicated he could get together every other weekend as he got his kids twice a month.

Finally I wrote him, “I think Mary will probably like your profile. I’ll let her take a look at it when she gets home. It will be her decision if she wants to take it further. It may be a few days, keep checking your messages.”

Mary got home an hour later, griping about how the church board was trying to divert money from the organ fund to make VBS pamphlets. I got her a cup of tea, she cooled down. “Anything good happen tonight?” she asked.

“Sort of.” I told her about the two men who’d reached out, she was interested. I figured she might be, it had been a couple of months since she’d had a date; her regular boyfriend had moved, she’d been in the dumps since he left. But on the previous Saturday night we role played, I could tell she was getting back into the mood.

“Show me,” she said, and I got my laptop. Very carefully, she took a look at both profiles and the ensuing messages from Michael. She trusts my judgement, she just wants to make sure she’d be attracted to the man before we go too far. “I have hopes for the guy from Detroit. Remember Jim from Atlanta? He was a lot of fun. And he didn’t have any trouble using his expense account, did he? I hope this guy writes back.”

“How about Michael?” I asked.

“Oh, yes. He’s prime, I think. Set up the phone call!”

I took over the computer and wrote, “Michael, I showed your stuff to Mary, and she’s interested. What we’d like to do is talk to you on the phone. You can call us tomorrow night, Wednesday, at 8:00 if that’s convenient for you.” I then told him how to get to us on wechat. 

In our early days we didn’t require a phone call before we set up a date. Often we sat in a restaurant only to find the man never showed. But if Mary talked to him on the phone, we discovered there was more excitement on his part, we never had a no-show again. Oh, sometimes the guys ghosted us when we asked for the call, but it was better it was then than at the bar. 

The next evening we had a message on SLS indicating we were on for the call, and at 8:01 the phone rang. “Hello. Michael?” Mary greeted.

“Is this Mary?”

“Yes it is.”

I broke in. “And Michael, this is Adam. Just wanted to let you know I’m on the speakerphone as well. But I won’t talk too much, this is more of an opportunity for you and Mary to get acquainted.” 

Mary’s an old pro, we’ve done it a dozen times, and she started out with a softball. Literally. “So, what was your batting average last season?” They took it from the game to travel, he described a cruise he took with his wife, Mary told him about Paris. Eventually, it moved on. “So, Michael, what are you hoping to get out of this?”

“You mean the LifeStyle? Well, my wife and I talked about it. A lot. It was my idea.”

“Did you want to share her with another man?”

“I would have been really pumped, I think. We were considering swapping, too.”

“What happened?”

“Well, we have kids so that put a crimp on it. We met two or three couples we’d bumped into on SLS, but they weren’t good enough for my wife, she was a little picky. We just never got around to it.”

“So you want to explore?”

“Yes, I do.”

Then Mary dropped the grenade. She did this, just to see if the guy would recover. “Michael, are you a good lover?”

He didn’t balk. “I think I am. My wife never complained. At least not very often. And we didn’t get divorced over sexual things. But I don’t know. Mary, do you think I need a second opinion?”

Mary laughed out loud, gave me the high sign, I took over. “Okay, Michael. We’d like to meet up with you, find out if the chemistry is there. We’ll have a drink or two. I don’t want you to think this is a promise for anything else. Mary and I like to chat after we meet with a guy, compare notes. Is that okay with you?”

“That would be just fine.”

“So, when’s good for you?” I asked.

“I’ve got all this weekend open.” 

I knew our schedule, Mary was giving me a thumbs up. “Great, Michael,” I said. “How’s Saturday night. Say 8:00? There’s a bar near us, O’Hara’s. You ever been there?”

“No, but I’m sure I can find it.”

“Okay, we’ll see you then.” 

We hung up, and Mary looked at me. “I’m wet,” she said, “very hopeful.”

“We’ll see,” I smiled, and I had a feeling I would.

The next day, I sent Michael another message, telling him I’d opened our private gallery to him. In there we had a collection of seven pictures showing Mary in various levels of undress, including three where she’s being intimate with men. Her face, and those of her lovers, were still blurred, anytime you put something on the internet you just know it will eventually show up on Xhamster. We wanted Michael to dream that the next pictures I’d take would star him, it would give him more incentive to show up. 


Saturday Michael and I made contact on Kik, confirming our meet that night. I always make a habit of doing that, if the guy ghosts us at such a point we want some forewarning. 

Saturday evening we reached the door of the bar at 8:21, I’d already texted Michael we’d be late. Mary was looking pretty good, I thought, for a woman in her fifties. A tight teal V-neck blouse with white strips crossing her breasts in an X, black capris. We met Michael at the bar, got drinks and headed for a booth. Michael seemed to think Mary was attractive, he had a hard time taking his eyes off her chest. At the same time, she toyed with the strap near her cleavage, twirled her hair. Non verbal signals indicated it was on! But after we talked for fifteen minutes, we went through our routine. “What kind of music do you like?” Mary asked Michael. This put me on alert.

“Oh, just about anything. Not a big fan of country. What about you?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a wide variety we like too. I’m a holdover from my father, he always liked Frank Sinatra.” As far as I know Big Jim hated Ol’ Blue Eyes, but it was our signal. Once Mary mentioned the singer, it was the same as telling me, ‘Listen, Adam, I’m hot as hell for this guy. I want to take him home right now and do him. What do you think?’

Now I had to respond. Mary always gave me a chance to veto the guy if I thought there was something wrong with him, or something I just didn’t like. If I wanted to end the evening, all I had to do was mention the Pet Shop Boys, Mary would take that as a ‘let’s not.’ But I liked Michael, I could tell they had the hots for each other, so I said, “Yeah, he’s always been one of my favorites too, for an old guy. Strangers in the Night was a great song.” By mentioning any tune by Sinatra, I’d agreed to let the night continue. 

“I never could get into him,” Michael observed, thinking we were actually talking about music. He was oblivious to the notion my wife and I had had a complete conversation, and he’d been moved, seconded, and an unanimous vote taken.

Once the issue’s been decided Mary likes it if I take charge of the logistics. She’s got this notion, I guess, it should just happen naturally. Of course, if somebody doesn’t say ‘let’s go’, nobody ever goes anyplace. I let the conversation continue for awhile, they were discussing Taylor Swift or something, and I motioned the waitress over, flipped her my credit card. Michael objected, he felt he should pick up the tab, I just said, “Next time,” then commented. “Michael, we’ve had a really good time with you. We live just ten minutes from here, how would you like to come over?”

It shocked him to get the the offer, it almost always does, even for experienced swingers. I mean, we’d been sitting there for almost an hour, we didn’t say anything remotely sexual for fear those around us might hear, and here I was inviting him into our home so he could have sex with my wife. At this point, some guys beg off. A few times, we think, it’s because they aren’t into Mary. Other times we get the feeling they’re married men and morality smacks them in the face. But most of the time it’s because they simply aren’t expecting it - and I understand, we told them going in they shouldn’t bank on it. Those guys almost always contact us a few days later, hoping for a second chance, and depending on how hot they were Mary often goes along with it. We both waited for Michael’s next words.

“Well . . . yeah, I guess so.” You could almost see his brain gears going around, then he smiled and said, “I’d love it!”

In the parking lot, we told him to follow us to our car, theoretically so he knew what it looked like, in reality for the first move. Michael escorted Mary to her door, she took the opportunity to give him the first kiss of the night. I always sort of tried to look like I was ignoring them, but I checked them out through the side of my eye. Michael took to it, they had a good lip lock and then after a second or so he went back for another taste. Their chests were pressing against each other’s, I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the last time of the night. Finally Mary told him, “Just follow us.”

On the drive, we were silent. I’ve tried to find out how excited Mary is at moments like this, it always fell flat. I guess she’s too intent on what’s going to happen in a little while, and she just doesn’t want to talk about it. There’s nothing wrong with a good pregnant silence at such times, I’ve discovered.

Michael stayed on our tail, pulled into our driveway behind us. We didn’t have any problems with the neighbors seeing this, there’s nothing suspicious about a man and his wife having a friend over, maybe he’s a golfing buddy of mine, they don’t know. Mary has never brought a boyfriend over when I wasn’t there. In such a situation - I always know about it in advance - either she’ll go over to the guy’s house or they’ll get a room.

Michael trailed Mary into the den, I took drink orders and headed for the kitchen. Every once in awhile when I rejoin them Mary and her guy of the night are already kissing. But most often it was like tonight. Our den has a long, comfortable couch. Mary was sitting on one side of the sofa, Michael on the other side, a full cushion between them. I sat on a recliner, which I assumed would be my roost for much of the night unless Mary wanted the bedroom. They were talking, I just listened. 

Again, the subjects weren’t sexual. Anything but. What year we bought our house. A new freeway they were thinking of building. Visigoth history. Well, not the last, but you get the idea. Again, Mary wants the guy to make the first move. Only I could see it was never gonna happen. This was Michael’s first time, he was nervous as hell, I could see the sweat on his brow. He didn’t know what to do. 

“So, how long have you been separated?” I asked.

“Ten months.”

“How many girlfriends do you have?”

“Right now? Gee, I haven’t been on a date in about three months.”

“Really! Then you’re out of practice. But I thought you kissed Mary pretty well in the parking lot. What do you think, honey?”

“Oh, it was a fine kiss. He’s not out of practice.”

“Maybe it’s just like riding a bicycle. Michael, I think Mary would like another kiss.”

“Okay.” They moved towards each other, looking at each other, and when their bodies were only a foot apart Michael leaned over, they kissed, the second time. This wasn’t anything like the parking lot, it was chaste, almost emotionless. The only parts touching were their lips and his hand on her shoulder. 

I knew what the problem was. “Michael, just pretend I’m not here. Like I don’t exist. Mary wants you to take her. If I was you, I’d do it.” He looked at me, then looked at her. She nodded. That was all the boy needed, consent.

He moved over to her, pushed her against the arm of the couch, kissed her hard. Both their hands roamed, of course, but not to anything good, just to collarbones and necks and arms and legs. At last I saw his hand creep from her belly up, touch the bottom edge of her bra, and nudge ever so slowly until his hand was full of woman. 

I guess this is Mary’s idea of ‘natural,’ so she pulled his shirt off him. Good, a naked chest! Michael pushed her blouse up until the bra was visible, then popped her left breast out and sucked on the nipple. A completely silly maneuver, it looked stupid, when he could just as easily undress her. But I was only a silent observer by this time. 

There was a flurry of zippers opening and pants being pulled, all the while they were kissing and sucking, and pretty soon he was naked and she had only her panties on. Now I’ve studied my share of pricks that have been inside my wife, I gave this one high marks. Circumcized, average length, but a dense girth which would fill her up nicely.

Mary shifted, he was sitting up, she was lying on her left side and she bent over and took his cock in her mouth. Michael seemed to enjoy it, while she was sucking he had his hand down the back side of her panties. 

Mary blew him, it seemed he would let her go as long as she wanted, at last Mary sat up, it seemed the tool was as hard as she wanted it. Michael got down on the floor, pulled her panties off. Mary lifted her legs and stretched them out, Michael just looked at the pretty target, all smooth and hairless, and he put a finger inside. I saw Mary’s delight, she loves it when a guy fiddles with her, and I caught the moans I’ve heard so many times before. Then Michael put his mouth to the spot. From my vantage point I couldn’t see exactly what was going on, but Mary was moaning harder and her ass was rising up and down. Then her old familiar eek, I figured Michael was thrilled he was getting her to the goal but I knew just how easy Mary was.

While he was giving her oral sex, I quietly pulled my clothes off - it seems a little rude to me to be dressed when everybody else isn’t. I pulled on my own cock, an enticement as I watched my wife erupt with the other man.

After awhile she settled down and I figured his tongue was tired, she tumbled onto the floor. They kissed for a little while, feeling each other, and he put his back up against the couch. Mary reached for a condom, handed it to him. It took a few moments for him to tear the foil open and roll it on, for this he certainly was out of practice. Then Mary crawled on top of him and I was treated to one of my favorite sights - a new man’s prick gliding into my wife’s twat for the first time. He was plenty hard enough, I watched as it slid completely inside, stretching her, until all I saw was his balls below her ass.

Sometimes, of course, the man who’s trying to fuck her has issues, especially if it’s his first time doing something like this. He’s nervous, maybe the condom is choking it. One time we found out later the guy had diabetes, it was never gonna get hard. In those situations Mary works with the guy, giving him another blow job, trying different positions. Usually the guy gets it sort of hard enough, sometime it just never happens. They’re both disappointed (well, I am too,) but Mary knows the risks, she says even though the destination was never reached, the trip was a lot of fun. She’s willing to chance the possibility.

But as I was saying, Michael didn’t have any issues. He had his hands on Mary’s ass, he was helping her get off. She did, with her trademark eeks, then something happened and she tumbled, her ass fell on the floor. I’ll give them credit, it didn’t stop them. She supported herself with her hands behind her on the floor, Michael kept going, pushing himself in and out somehow. It didn’t seem like they were going anywhere, only an inch or two of his prick could get in in such a position, but they seemed intent to find out what it was like.

Eventually he slipped out and I figured they’d been going at it ten minutes or so. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t any kind of a world record or anything, but after a half-hour of foreplay, most guys will blow their wad in five minutes or less. Mary doesn’t mind if she’s already come a couple of times. She thinks it’s sweet the guy is so turned on he simply can’t wait.

I figured she was done for the night. Not finished, just ready for the final act. She laid on her back, Michael climbed between her legs, she spread wide, he stuck it in again. This was interesting, Mary curled a little bit, her legs up towards her head, and he was fucking her almost vertically, supporting himself on his outstretched arms and his feet, his knees barely touching the floor. He was able to drill her like this, straight down into her, and I was surprised to hear Mary’s eeks again - she almost never comes in missionary or anything like it. 

I could see it was having it’s impact on Michael, his face was sweating, his ass was bobbing, and I heard his long, “Ooooowwwww!” and he stopped, his cock implanted in her as far as it would go. He rose and fell a couple more times, another shriek and pause, finally another flurry of fucking, a final grunt and he plummeted off her, coming to rest on his back next to her. Mary looked to me, our secret smile that simply means, ‘I got fucked again, wasn’t it great!’ Then she said, “Hand me a kleenex,” and she pulled the rubber off his prick and swabbed it with the tissue. It was still mostly hard and she held it up for my inspection. “It’s a pretty one, don’t you think?” 

“Did the trick for you, didn’t it?” I answered. I could see Michael was unsure, not knowing if he should be proud or flustered. 

At this point, it’s really important to read the room, see what everybody wants.

Sometimes, Mary wants me to screw her right after the other guy. If she’s in such a mood she comes over to me and puts a hand on my thigh, if I just do nothing she’ll start giving me a blow job. I try to observe the other guy, if there’s any shyness on his part we’ll back off, if not Mary and I will get into it and the guy will either sit in a corner and watch, like I usually do until they’re done, or feel up Mary as I’m screwing her, helping her. That’s the best.

And there’s times when I’m so horny I’ll just take a shot at her, not caring whether the guy’s into it or not. After all, he just laid my wife, what’s he got to complain about?

If either of these things happen, after I’m done the three of us often sit around, maybe have some more drinks or a piece of pie and coffee, and then it’ll either wrap up or Mary will take another run at the guy and round three starts. The most we’ve done in one night with just me and one guy was five rounds, and all of us were ready to collapse.

But this night, Michael sat up and started putting his boxers on, a clear sign he’d had enough. Why? I don’t know. Maybe the unfamiliar scene was making him feel weird. Maybe he had a headache or something. Maybe he was just a hit and run guy. He wasn’t the first man to be done with my wife so quickly. At any rate, I went into the bedroom to give him a little space, put a robe on, got one for Mary. 

A few times when I leave them alone, one of them will start something and another round will start, even at that point. But when I got back Michael was buttoning his shirt, Mary had her panties on, it was over.

I draped the kimono over her shoulders, Michael tied his shoes, stood. “It was a nice night, thanks,” he said.

I shook his hand, agreed, “Yeah, it was great.”

Mary walked him to the door, I heard muffled words, the sound of a kiss and the closing of the door. She entered the den, her robe already off, she was planning on me taking my shot out here, not in the bedroom.

“So, how was he?”

“I give him a solid B,” Mary graded. “Nervous, but he’s got some native talent. And a nice thick dick.” She sat in my lap, her ass playfully pressing on my own prick.

“If he emails and wants another shot, what do I say?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s very trainable.” I sucked on a nipple, put a finger deep inside her. Sometimes it feels a little stretched after she screws somebody else, sometimes it just feels a little hot. “Oh, and when’s that guy from Detroit coming to town?”




If you are looking for more information about the hotwife lifestyle, a very good resource can be found at ourhotwives.org. If you have questions for me, I can be reached at adamgunnauthor@yahoo.com. 


This is the text and information of what you will find if you go onto SwingLifeStyle and search for ‘HotwifeMary’. The pictures there are actual photographs of my wife, albeit when she was somewhat younger. But the profile is designed to be a template, it is not our actual profile. And of course, it will not be monitored and messages addressed to it will not be replied to. <<Notes on searching for this profile. SLS can get a little picky. If you want to see it on SLS, search for couples in the zip code 15222.>>

SLS Name: HotwifeMary

Him: Straight, 54, 6’1, 215 lbs.

Her: Straight, 52, 5’6, 145 lbs.

Zipcode: 15222

Desired Age: 40 - 65

Drinkers Okay, no smokers

Interest Levels: Watch, no; Soft, maybe; Full, yes

 Couples, no; females, no; Males, yes

<< Four photographs are included on the SLS site >>

Looking for:

An exciting evening with a single male in an MFM threesome with my husband; if we all have fun an on-going friendship is an option.


I am Mary, a hotwife. We live in a suburb of Pittsburgh, not more than twelve miles from the Point. I am 5’6” inches tall, 145 pounds. My hair and eyebrows are burnt auburn, I have no hair below the shoulders. I normally choose witty and confident men for my playmates.

Fantasies and / or real experiences:

My husband and I opened our relationship four years ago. We both enjoy MFM threesomes where my husband is present. I rarely do solos, and only with trusted friends.

My husband does not feel he is a cuckold, as we both do not care for him to be humiliated. Instead, I refer to him as ‘my stag,’ and he is an equal partner in my erotic activities.

Additional comments:

If our profile has caught your attention, we invite you to message us if you are a non-smoker. We expect politeness and civility. Let me know of your background. In order to be assured that you’ve read this profile thoroughly, please put the word pacific first in your message. We expect a g-rated picture of you in your public gallery that allows me to have a realistic idea of your body type; you are welcome to blur your face, as I have blurred mine in my pictures. If you have facial hair, please show me enough of your face for me to tell what it looks like. I certainly don’t need to see your genitals at this point. I do have a private gallery that shows more of what I look like; however we won’t open it to you until we agree to meet. Asking for access before that time will cause us to drop you from our potential partner list.