After we were married, I knew from day one that one man would never be enough. Every night, my husband would fuck me in a frenzy, trying to spark my passion and send me into ecstasy. But every night, I would hold back. Even though I loved him, I wasn’t interested sex with one guy. It was too boring, predictable, and it was over in a flash. I wanted to be taken all night long by different guys, and to have my pick of men every night of the week. Well, that’s what I wanted deep down. On the surface, I couldn’t bring myself to admit that I was a nymphomaniac. I was the perfect housewife, accompanying my husband to his parties, talking about setting up a house in the suburbs and getting on with his parents. How could I ever get round to discussing my darkest group sex desires?
I started to despair. I wasn’t made to be monogamous. I wasn’t supposed to be chained to one guy forever. I wanted orgasms every night, excitement, adoration. There was a whole world of horny guys waiting for me, and I knew it. I found out one night that my husband had been surfing for an affair dating online. He let his guard down, and I accidentally clicked onto his profile. Some people would have made a big deal of it, but I was delighted. His profile said he was lonely and wanted a good fuck. That made me laugh. He just needed a normal woman to be his slave. That wasn’t me.
Seeing his affair dating profile gave me the idea of having an affair on dating sites as well. I was sure that I would have more luck than my husband, an ordinary looking man without much energy. I was in my 30s, with a good body, long legs – good tits and a come-fuck-me-smile that my partner hardly ever saw. Maybe he saw it once, and it hooked him, but he hardly saw it any more. In a couple of weeks, half the town had seen it – and I was in heaven. I set up a profile with anonymized photos, showing my naked body. We even had a couple of kinky outfits lying around that never got any use, so I dressed up as a nurse and tried to look horny. I guess it worked. A few hours after my profile went live, I was inundated with messages from guys looking for an affair dating online. This was a filthy town, I thought to myself, and I was one of the filthiest girls around. Now I began to explore my body and the men of the town. Some of the guys turned out to be people we knew. There was the husband of his secretary – a muscular teacher called Daryl who pounded me like a jackhammer in the school after hours. There was a waiter at our favourite restaurant named James, who was 19 and back from university for the holidays. I taught him a few new tricks. Then there was my husband’s best friend. That was the most passionate encounter of all. I never expected Dave to be involved in the online dating scene. He seemed so pure and devoted to his wife. She hardly knew him, and the never fucked any more. Instead, he started to fuck me, with James and Daryl looking on. Then they would switch places, grunting and calling each other to bang me harder. None of them said anything about my husband, and probably didn’t even think about him. They were focused on my pussy, and I only had eyes for their cocks.
When I got married, affair dating and group sex with the rest of the town could not have been further from my virginal mind. Now, I was obsessed. I needed more men – new men, men with small cocks, men with massive, almost ridiculous pricks. I needed black guys – the more the merrier – old guys, young men, idiots, fools, geniuses. It was like I was taking on the whole world. Once, I decided to explore the profiles of local women as well. Now, men were not enough either. Imagine my surprise when one of the sexiest profiles was Dave’s wife. This woman, who couldn’t be quieter and more down to earth in real life, was using having online affairs dating guys just like me. Or so I assumed. It turned out that she was fucking half of the guys’ wives. It wasn’t revenge, she told me as I withdrew my 14 inch strap-on, it just seemed unavoidable. Everyday life was too dull, too ordinary for her to cope with. Online dating gave her the chance to experience highs that she had never thought possible. I kissed her on the lips, as she called Dave to get him back from work. But what about my husband? When I was fucking his best friend and his wife, his secretary’s husband and half of the town, where was he? Playing golf? I saw him less and less, and he just talked about work. I expected our marriage to start to fray and eventually fall apart – and half hoped that it would collapse. I was having too much fun to stop now.
I checked his dating profile again. It hadn’t been updated or even accessed by my husband for months. Maybe that nice guy, hard working stuff had turned everyone off, and he had gone back to his jigsaw puzzles. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Trying to arrange something special for the weekend, I asked a couple of new guys whether they were into an affair dating a girl like me. One guy had a magnetic way of speaking. He was filthy, imaginative, uninhibited. I needed it right away, and booked a hotel room in town. Telling my husband that I had a girls night out, I was ready and waiting in no time. This time, I’d asked my date to be masked. I was wearing a kind of 18th century tiara and a corset like Marie Antoinette. He looked amazing, and fucked me with brutal, aristocratic disdain. Thinking it was just another hook up, I ripped off his mask as I came, roaring and sweating, as never before. Although I had never seen him enjoying himself this much, I knew right away that my Scarlet Pimpernel was my long-suffering husband, and that my quest for more and more men had come full circle. After that, we both shared our passions for multiple partners, and when we wanted an affair, dating or anything else – we just did it. But I needed to make the first move, and I’m glad I did.
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