A Night with Aaron

Well, we finally had some fun with Aaron. He is a good candidate to be Piper's boy toy. He's twenty-two and if I remember correctly that age, always horny.

We met Aaron for drinks on Saturday night at a club. He was understandable nervous at first. After all, how do you talk-up a woman with her husband nearby. But, as usual, alcohol never hurts.

Both Aaron and Piper had one too many drinks. Now, in my Piper's case, one too many isn't much. By her third glass of wine, she was ready for anything. Aaron, on the other hand, drank a lot. Hey, guys, if you're in your thirties, do you remember when you could down five, six seven drinks and just be buzzed? I barely remember those days. But I digress.

Suffice to say, our boy Aaron was feeling no pain.

I should tell you how my bride was dressed because just thinking about it gives me a hard-on. Tight skirt that came just above the knees, tight, white blouse and heels. Underneath, garters and silky black panties. Before going out I tried to get a peek but she wouldn't let me. "It's for Aaron," she said. "You'll just have to imagine it." Man! What a turn on. I know, I'm a freak but that's just hot. Am I wrong?

Just after midnight we were back at our house. Aaron and Piper were so wasted that he started feeling her up as soon as we walked in the door. I loved seeing his hands on that nice, tight, little ass. In truth, I was hoping he'd butt-fuck her but that didn't happen.

But, since the two were drunk, I decided to press the envelope a bit.

I asked Aaron if he'd like my wife to suck his cock. He said yes (smart boy).

"Down on your knees and suck him," I told Piper.

She eagerly followed my directions. After that warm-up, she stripped down to her lingerie and pulled Aaron into the bedroom. They fucked for what seemed like hours but in reality was only about an hour.

Towards the very end I went into the bedroom. Piper was giving him a hand job. She told me she was trying to get Aaron to cum one more time because he had made her cum three times. She eventually made that happen.

When they were done, I drove Aaron home. When I got back, Piper was in bed, in her flannel pajamas and looked cute as a button. That may be the biggest turn-on of all: Her ability to go from hot wife to looking cute, vulnerable and innocent. Love it!

Sick Wife

We apologize for the lack of posts lately. A scroll through our blog roll tells me we're not alone. There's simply not much to talk about on the sex front. There's been no recent encounters and our own sex life took a down-turn recently when Steve came down with the flu for a few days. Then, I did. Nasty business, that. Even after the worst is over you still feel crappy for a few days.

I did read something recently but I'll be damned where I read it. It was a blog and it was about wearing your ankle bracelet on a particular ankle to signal your hot wife status. I'm never up on these things and for the life of me I can't remember which ankle.

So, I throw it out to the audience (if any are left): Are there really such accepted signals and if so, what are they? Do they vary from region to region? Are they more urban legend than real? These are things I do not know. I'm just curious if there's some poor girl out there wearing an ankle bracelet and getting looks from people.

Steve did give me a beautiful ankle bracelet a while back. It's a charm bracelet and he adds a charm for every hot wife encounter. He still owes me for the gang bang, by the way.

Well, I think both Steve and I feeling better so maybe he'll get some action soon. Until then, be good.

Library Tales

I saw this post on Library Sex over at Alicia's. It's from a challenge hosted by Remittance Girl. Two great women with great blogs. I'm late for the challenge but it looked like fun. So here's my take on a library story.


***

My shoes clicked on the marble floor as I wound my way through the stacks. It was half-past nine on a Friday night and I was in the university library. That should tell you all you need to know about my love life.

Except for a handful of over-achievers, the library was empty. A pretty redhead sat hunched at one of the computers. Two or three boys sat at desks, scribbling furiously. An older man sat in the lounge, his nose stuck in the newspaper.

I made my way to the deserted third floor. The third floor was always deserted, even during the day time. That was where you could find works of fiction. Everything from Grisham to Bulgakov. I even stumbled on a copy of Fanny Hill one day. Needless to say, students researching corn production in Albania or binomial theory had little time for novels.

I was trying to decided what might strike my fancy for a cold Friday night when a voice said, "Can I help you find something?"

I turned to find a young man, probably ten years younger than me, with short dark hair and broad shoulder. He had friendly eyes and a smile that would have been arrogant if he had been ten years older.

"No thank you," I said. "I just can't decide if I want Jane Austen or Bronte."

"Which Bronte?" he asked, leaning against the shelves.

"Any of them," I said. "Or all of them. I'm easy to please."

He grinned. "You're professor Smith?"

"Yes. Well, not really. I'm an adjunct. No doctorate."

"My friend, Chris is in one of your classes." He moved closer. He was cute, in a boyish way.

I thought for a minute. Chris was a star football player and a surprisingly good student. "I like Chris. He seems like a good guy."

"You like them big?" He asked.

"Pardon?" I felt my face start to color.

"Books," he said, and leaned closer. "You like those big, thick ones."

I tilted my head and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. "Yes, something that will last a good, long time."

"He says you're a good teacher."

"Who says?"

"Chris, our mutual friend."

He smiled and stared. The stare lasted long enough that I averted my eyes. Then, he pulled a book off the shelf. "Ever read Turn of the Screw?"

I took the book from him and pretended to read the first paragraph. "I like it," I said, doing my best to sound disinterested. "Doesn't look as good as Hard Times, but I'm a huge Dickens fan."

"You like Dickens?"

"I love Dickens. I can spend a whole night, cuddled up in front of the fire with some Dickens. His books are so long and thick. There's just something about older books."

"There's some good, young authors out there," he said. "You might like one of the new classics." He took me by the arm and we strolled further into the stacks. "Of course, you've read Tender is the Night."

"Of course. But I do enjoy Testament of Youth a bit more."

He placed an arm around my waist to guide me around the corner. He pulled down another book and handed it to me. "Of Human Bondage," I said, and moistened my lips. "I don't think that's my cup of tea. The Stranger: Now that's something a girl can sink her teeth into."

"Never read it, but I'd really like to. It sounds as good as Wild Season." We stopped in an aisle where the florescent bulbs had burned out. He began to slide his hands down my hips, his face hidden in shadows. "So, are you seeing anyone?"

"A good man is hard to find. Besides, I'm a teacher, you're a student."

"Yes," he said, bending down to kiss me. "It's a real Catch-22."

I gently removed his hands and deftly avoided his lips. I grabbed a book at random and gave it to him. "I should be getting on the road." I walked away slowly as he read the cover of the book.

"Hey," he shouted. "The Idiot?"

Got Nothin'

Sorry for the lack of posts, people! We just got nothing. Things have been real quiet since our fun Friday with Cooper. Thanks for all the comments.

Steve was taken by surprise and enjoyed himself immensely. So did Cooper and so did I.

I'm glad Steve enjoys my time with Cooper because that man gives me not only great orgasms but four or five of them a session. I can usually climax two or three times with Steve but Cooper really keeps them coming. I think it's the thrill of having Steve watch, knowing he's getting off. I really don't want to analyze it any more than that.

Hopefully we'll have something fun to discuss later this week.

Be good and thanks for stopping by.