SlutWife Prepares for her date

[Louie]

Wow, amazing and so Sexy.  In these two little videos I capture my Slutwife, Hotwife, Cuckoldress whatever we are calling it now,  in her natural habitat before she transforms herself into the Hotwife that will undoubtedly come home around 6 am.  She started her ritual with the classic shaving of those most exquisite set of limbs, 

Once she is done with her legs and she will shower, then come back to our bathroom to start the second phase of her transformation.  As her process continues, she will get more and more excited about the night that awaits her.  

 

As I will feel more and more confusion and trepidation.  On one hand I will wait in great anticipation for her return on the other I will dread it and I will secretly wish for her never to return.  Then I will flip on myself once again and be angry for thinking such a thing.  While this entire time my dick is as hard as it ever has been or ever will be.

Finaly, she will return, maybe midnight tonight, maybe 2:00 am maybe 6 am tomorrow.  At this point I don't know and without asking I know she doesn't know either.  What I do know is that the later it gets into tomorrow the better and worse it will have been for her.  If she arrives at 6:00 am, she will show up sore, tired, battered not broken but she will look road hard and most likely dropped off wet.  

With great anticipation I have waited all night, sleep was not something that was going to come to me I already know that.  I will open the front door before she even makes it to the porch.   She will look at me and I will look at her and in her eyes I will see the appreciation and the look she gets when she knows she is home, she is safe, and she is with me.  I will of course get her inside and will bath her, wash her hair, wash her body.  I will help her from the tub to our marital bed that lays in wait with fresh sheets and pillow cases, it will be soft, cool and like the friend you always remember.  She will grunt and she will groan.  I will break out the creame and start the soft and gentle rubbing of her legs, ass, back and shoulders.  Eventually she will fall asleep and will remain in her slumber until late tomrrow evening. 

When she does fall asleep, I will pull the sheets back and inspect my wifes body from head to toe.  I will study every inch and I will commit to my memory every bruise, every bitemark, every hickie, and slap mark.  I will commit this to my memory in an almost childish banter like when a 5 year old is trying to commit his home phone number on the first day of school.  At this point I will be at my wits end.  I will crave this women so badly it hurts, but I will not touch.  I will long and cry and fantasize but I will only stare.  My cock will rage with a vengeance but I know better, slowly I will back out of our bedroom I will close the door and head to my shop where I will stay until she wakens and comes to join me.  Eventually, she will come to the shop to see me and when she does I will struggle to gain a clear vision of her hands.  Here is where the game hits full throttle.  if she is caring something than that means she had fun and an adventure that she will want to remember.

If you were to stand in our dining room, you would not see anything out of place.  Our dining room looks just like any other, it has a table and chairs for dinning, it has shelfs behind glass built into the wall, and behind that you see the expected plates, glasses, and accessories you would expect.  Than maybe, just maybe you turn and notice a 3 level shelf hanging a little high on the wall full of knick-knacks that you would expect to find in one of those Las Vegas tourist shops on the strip.  Nothing of any quality, nothing really worth showing off.  So you might ask "what that all about?".  Now your in for it.  Unbeknown to you, you have asked me a question of which I must answer and more importantly I must answer honestly.  If you were to ask T then she to would have to answer honestly.  Its the agreement its the thing we use to say to ourselves , "If I am not willing to be honest about this, than I shouldn't be doing it".  Sounds strange almost a little fictitious really, and I cant say to you that I have chosen to not volunteer to host for certain company parties just from fear of someone asking.  But, if we are there now, and you have asked, then I must look upon you and tell you,  "That my friend is T's memorabilia shelf representing the men she has fucked since we got married.  I know each and everyone and can tell you not only who, but when and how many times.  I can tell you if they were standing, sitting, in my bed or yours.  The only question that has ever stumped me and one that I refuse to find the answer to is, "How many pieces of memorabilia is up there?"  At which point, I would look to you and say "My wife is a slut, what can I say?"

So back to today..  If she comes in tomorrow with something in her hand she will give it to me, she will then sit with me and tell me every detail of the night before.  Of which I will commit it to my memory and practice it so not to forget even the finest of details.  While I hold the knick-knack that she brought home, I can ask as many questions as I want, I can ask the same question over and over, I can clear the air with any question or concern I have.  Once I put the knick-knack on the shelf though, I can not refer to it again.  

Then on my night, maybe tomorrow night, maybe next month or even next year.  When its my night she will come to bed, She will lay next to me and she will place into my hand one or maybe two of those little knick-knacks.  We then layback and I tell her, her entire story as she told it to me.  If I fail and don't recall it correctly or I get the name of her lover wrong, she rolls over turns the light out and I am done.  If however, I get the story right and the names are right she will quickly mount me, place my cock in her pussy, the pussy that I have desired so intensly to have again.  As I tell her, her story she will refer to me with the name over her lover not my name.  I will be her lover and when she looks at me I know she sees her lovers and its that passion, that intensity that is my drug, its my cocain, morphine, alcohol its all that X10 for me.  Its the only place I want to be, and it is what keeps me their until it happens again. 

Wish me luck! 

Louie

[Plezurseekers69]

1 hour ago, Louie said:

Wow, amazing and so Sexy.  In these two little videos I capture my Slutwife, Hotwife, Cuckoldress whatever we are calling it now,  in her natural habitat before she transforms herself into the Hotwife that will undoubtedly come home around 6 am.  She started her ritual with the classic shaving of those most exquisite set of limbs, 

 

Once she is done with her legs and she will shower, then come back to our bathroom to start the second phase of her transformation.  As her process continues, she will get more and more excited about the night that awaits her.  

 

 

As I will feel more and more confusion and trepidation.  On one hand I will wait in great anticipation for her return on the other I will dread it and I will secretly wish for her never to return.  Then I will flip on myself once again and be angry for thinking such a thing.  While this entire time my dick is as hard as it ever has been or ever will be.

Finaly, she will return, maybe midnight tonight, maybe 2:00 am maybe 6 am tomorrow.  At this point I don't know and without asking I know she doesn't know either.  What I do know is that the later it gets into tomorrow the better and worse it will have been for her.  If she arrives at 6:00 am, she will show up sore, tired, battered not broken but she will look road hard and most likely dropped off wet.  

With great anticipation I have waited all night, sleep was not something that was going to come to me I already know that.  I will open the front door before she even makes it to the porch.   She will look at me and I will look at her and in her eyes I will see the appreciation and the look she gets when she knows she is home, she is safe, and she is with me.  I will of course get her inside and will bath her, wash her hair, wash her body.  I will help her from the tub to our marital bed that lays in wait with fresh sheets and pillow cases, it will be soft, cool and like the friend you always remember.  She will grunt and she will groan.  I will break out the creame and start the soft and gentle rubbing of her legs, ass, back and shoulders.  Eventually she will fall asleep and will remain in her slumber until late tomrrow evening. 

When she does fall asleep, I will pull the sheets back and inspect my wifes body from head to toe.  I will study every inch and I will commit to my memory every bruise, every bitemark, every hickie, and slap mark.  I will commit this to my memory in an almost childish banter like when a 5 year old is trying to commit his home phone number on the first day of school.  At this point I will be at my wits end.  I will crave this women so badly it hurts, but I will not touch.  I will long and cry and fantasize but I will only stare.  My cock will rage with a vengeance but I know better, slowly I will back out of our bedroom I will close the door and head to my shop where I will stay until she wakens and comes to join me.  Eventually, she will come to the shop to see me and when she does I will struggle to gain a clear vision of her hands.  Here is where the game hits full throttle.  if she is caring something than that means she had fun and an adventure that she will want to remember.

If you were to stand in our dining room, you would not see anything out of place.  Our dining room looks just like any other, it has a table and chairs for dinning, it has shelfs behind glass built into the wall, and behind that you see the expected plates, glasses, and accessories you would expect.  Than maybe, just maybe you turn and notice a 3 level shelf hanging a little high on the wall full of knick-knacks that you would expect to find in one of those Las Vegas tourist shops on the strip.  Nothing of any quality, nothing really worth showing off.  So you might ask "what that all about?".  Now your in for it.  Unbeknown to you, you have asked me a question of which I must answer and more importantly I must answer honestly.  If you were to ask T then she to would have to answer honestly.  Its the agreement its the thing we use to say to ourselves , "If I am not willing to be honest about this, than I shouldn't be doing it".  Sounds strange almost a little fictitious really, and I cant say to you that I have chosen to not volunteer to host for certain company parties just from fear of someone asking.  But, if we are there now, and you have asked, then I must look upon you and tell you,  "That my friend is T's memorabilia shelf representing the men she has fucked since we got married.  I know each and everyone and can tell you not only who, but when and how many times.  I can tell you if they were standing, sitting, in my bed or yours.  The only question that has ever stumped me and one that I refuse to find the answer to is, "How many pieces of memorabilia is up there?"  At which point, I would look to you and say "My wife is a slut, what can I say?"

So back to today..  If she comes in tomorrow with something in her hand she will give it to me, she will then sit with me and tell me every detail of the night before.  Of which I will commit it to my memory and practice it so not to forget even the finest of details.  While I hold the knick-knack that she brought home, I can ask as many questions as I want, I can ask the same question over and over, I can clear the air with any question or concern I have.  Once I put the knick-knack on the shelf though, I can not refer to it again.  

Then on my night, maybe tomorrow night, maybe next month or even next year.  When its my night she will come to bed, She will lay next to me and she will place into my hand one or maybe two of those little knick-knacks.  We then layback and I tell her, her entire story as she told it to me.  If I fail and don't recall it correctly or I get the name of her lover wrong, she rolls over turns the light out and I am done.  If however, I get the story right and the names are right she will quickly mount me, place my cock in her pussy, the pussy that I have desired so intensly to have again.  As I tell her, her story she will refer to me with the name over her lover not my name.  I will be her lover and when she looks at me I know she sees her lovers and its that passion, that intensity that is my drug, its my cocain, morphine, alcohol its all that X10 for me.  Its the only place I want to be, and it is what keeps me their until it happens again. 

Wish me luck! 

Louie

What a great post. 

[L Smith]

it would be nice if she hands you one of my knick-knacks and goes over what the two of us did on our knight together you would hear the wildest story she had ever told you  

[Unique_abhishek]

On 6/23/2019 at 10:50 AM, Louie said:

Wow, amazing and so Sexy.  In these two little videos I capture my Slutwife, Hotwife, Cuckoldress whatever we are calling it now,  in her natural habitat before she transforms herself into the Hotwife that will undoubtedly come home around 6 am.  She started her ritual with the classic shaving of those most exquisite set of limbs, 

 

Once she is done with her legs and she will shower, then come back to our bathroom to start the second phase of her transformation.  As her process continues, she will get more and more excited about the night that awaits her.  

 

 

As I will feel more and more confusion and trepidation.  On one hand I will wait in great anticipation for her return on the other I will dread it and I will secretly wish for her never to return.  Then I will flip on myself once again and be angry for thinking such a thing.  While this entire time my dick is as hard as it ever has been or ever will be.

Finaly, she will return, maybe midnight tonight, maybe 2:00 am maybe 6 am tomorrow.  At this point I don't know and without asking I know she doesn't know either.  What I do know is that the later it gets into tomorrow the better and worse it will have been for her.  If she arrives at 6:00 am, she will show up sore, tired, battered not broken but she will look road hard and most likely dropped off wet.  

With great anticipation I have waited all night, sleep was not something that was going to come to me I already know that.  I will open the front door before she even makes it to the porch.   She will look at me and I will look at her and in her eyes I will see the appreciation and the look she gets when she knows she is home, she is safe, and she is with me.  I will of course get her inside and will bath her, wash her hair, wash her body.  I will help her from the tub to our marital bed that lays in wait with fresh sheets and pillow cases, it will be soft, cool and like the friend you always remember.  She will grunt and she will groan.  I will break out the creame and start the soft and gentle rubbing of her legs, ass, back and shoulders.  Eventually she will fall asleep and will remain in her slumber until late tomrrow evening. 

When she does fall asleep, I will pull the sheets back and inspect my wifes body from head to toe.  I will study every inch and I will commit to my memory every bruise, every bitemark, every hickie, and slap mark.  I will commit this to my memory in an almost childish banter like when a 5 year old is trying to commit his home phone number on the first day of school.  At this point I will be at my wits end.  I will crave this women so badly it hurts, but I will not touch.  I will long and cry and fantasize but I will only stare.  My cock will rage with a vengeance but I know better, slowly I will back out of our bedroom I will close the door and head to my shop where I will stay until she wakens and comes to join me.  Eventually, she will come to the shop to see me and when she does I will struggle to gain a clear vision of her hands.  Here is where the game hits full throttle.  if she is caring something than that means she had fun and an adventure that she will want to remember.

If you were to stand in our dining room, you would not see anything out of place.  Our dining room looks just like any other, it has a table and chairs for dinning, it has shelfs behind glass built into the wall, and behind that you see the expected plates, glasses, and accessories you would expect.  Than maybe, just maybe you turn and notice a 3 level shelf hanging a little high on the wall full of knick-knacks that you would expect to find in one of those Las Vegas tourist shops on the strip.  Nothing of any quality, nothing really worth showing off.  So you might ask "what that all about?".  Now your in for it.  Unbeknown to you, you have asked me a question of which I must answer and more importantly I must answer honestly.  If you were to ask T then she to would have to answer honestly.  Its the agreement its the thing we use to say to ourselves , "If I am not willing to be honest about this, than I shouldn't be doing it".  Sounds strange almost a little fictitious really, and I cant say to you that I have chosen to not volunteer to host for certain company parties just from fear of someone asking.  But, if we are there now, and you have asked, then I must look upon you and tell you,  "That my friend is T's memorabilia shelf representing the men she has fucked since we got married.  I know each and everyone and can tell you not only who, but when and how many times.  I can tell you if they were standing, sitting, in my bed or yours.  The only question that has ever stumped me and one that I refuse to find the answer to is, "How many pieces of memorabilia is up there?"  At which point, I would look to you and say "My wife is a slut, what can I say?"

So back to today..  If she comes in tomorrow with something in her hand she will give it to me, she will then sit with me and tell me every detail of the night before.  Of which I will commit it to my memory and practice it so not to forget even the finest of details.  While I hold the knick-knack that she brought home, I can ask as many questions as I want, I can ask the same question over and over, I can clear the air with any question or concern I have.  Once I put the knick-knack on the shelf though, I can not refer to it again.  

Then on my night, maybe tomorrow night, maybe next month or even next year.  When its my night she will come to bed, She will lay next to me and she will place into my hand one or maybe two of those little knick-knacks.  We then layback and I tell her, her entire story as she told it to me.  If I fail and don't recall it correctly or I get the name of her lover wrong, she rolls over turns the light out and I am done.  If however, I get the story right and the names are right she will quickly mount me, place my cock in her pussy, the pussy that I have desired so intensly to have again.  As I tell her, her story she will refer to me with the name over her lover not my name.  I will be her lover and when she looks at me I know she sees her lovers and its that passion, that intensity that is my drug, its my cocain, morphine, alcohol its all that X10 for me.  Its the only place I want to be, and it is what keeps me their until it happens again. 

Wish me luck! 

Louie

I see that you really got a ritual going. Great Dedication for your wife's pleasure. 😀