A cuckold confession that was told to me . . . Enjoy!
My name is Sharon, and I reside in the great sunshine state of Florida. This is my confession as I explained to Master SHANGO days ago. The writing is his, but the thoughts are mine. This is how I have been feeling lately, and required someone with a commendable mindset to help put me in line.
Sometimes I feel like I am past the age of thinking about wanting this. Many times, I have told myself that I’m too late. I tell myself that this is something I ought to have pursued years ago, even months ago, when my husband, Stevie, was adamant about wanting me to consider this choice. He kept trying to force it down my throat like a glass of alcohol I didn’t want to consume. For some unbeknownst reason, I never listened to him; I chose not to listen. I became immune to his persuasions until he suddenly gave up.
But that was then, and this is now.
Stevie stopped raising the subject months ago. He figured I was a lost cause and would never want to see things his way. I never let him know that I had thought about the choice. I did think about it intermittently, weighing the pros and cons, trying to figure out if this was worth pursuing.
Being a hotwife is usually for women deep in their prime from late-twenties up to forties; little is said about wives that have gotten past fifty or even ones past their sixties.
I am now willing to consider becoming a hotwife to my husband. But the question remains: what if I am too old to want to get involved in such?
Always the what ifs.
To put things in context, I am in my late-fifties. Yes, I am past the prime of my life, and I’m not as sprightly as I used to be before I had kids. But don’t get it twisted, I am no slouch. I exercise regularly and have kept a healthy outlook for the longest time. My main grievance is that I’ve missed out on having great sex, which any woman would agree is something they wish they didn’t neglect. But that comes with getting married; you must overlook some things to sustain a worthy relationship. Which is why I regret never taking my husband seriously about getting into this lifestyle back then. I can never turn back the hands of the clock, but I can ensure things won’t remain as they were before and start making a change for the better now while I still can.
That is what I am: a mature slut. I’ve got the mileage, and my pussy isn’t yet ready for retirement.
From a lot of what I’ve perused on the internet, being a hotwife is usually for women deep in their prime from late-twenties up to forties; little is said about wives that have gotten past fifty or even ones past their sixties. Those wives might as well have bought the farm or stuck to retirement. Not to say there aren’t women past their prime who aren’t living this lifestyle, except you don’t often hear much about them. And for the young men out there, I know they would prefer fucking a younger or middle-aged hotwife than wanting to fool around with a mature slut like myself.
That is what I am: a mature slut. I’ve got the mileage, and my pussy isn’t yet ready for retirement. I’ll bet that I can still tackle young men with hungry dicks in my bed for hours and have them screaming for more. I wouldn’t mind taking a break to make them a sandwich and a beer, anything to get them hard again to continue where we left off.
Surprisingly, I’ve got this craving hunger that isn’t lying low for nothing. Any woman of my age should be thinking about her grandkids; instead, what weighs on my mind is thinking about getting my mouth and cunt stretched by a big black dick that wouldn’t leave after it’s emptied its load. Even better is finding one that's going to be a permanent and dominant lover to me. He can train me to become a better whore, teach me how best to serve him, pimp and whore me out to other black men, I don't care. As long as he keeps me.
My husband might not agree to this truth I am admitting, but I would be lying if I deny that this isn't what I often dream. This is the dream I would love to achieve in 2024.
