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  • Penny's Promiscuity Ch. 10: Daughter

Penny's Promiscuity Ch. 10: Daughter

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It was a Monday in early February and it was England so of course it was raining.

I sat at my desk in my office and watched rivers of cold water run down the clouded glass of the window as I ate my lunch without enthusiasm. In an attempt to maintain my new, slimmer figure for my lover the 'New Me' had dispensed with sandwiches and cafeteria food so instead I was tucking as best I could into a pre-made salad guaranteed to be less than 300 calories.

It tasted as delicious you would expect a three hundred calorie salad to taste but I told myself that it was worth all the effort, as were my evening runs and visits to the gym. Now my husband wasn't the only man to see me naked on a regular basis, I had to make sure my body didn't let me down.

At the age of fifty-one, this was an uphill struggle. I threw the half-finished meal into the bin and leaned back in my chair, the empty lunchtime office giving me a rare moment to reflect on how things were going.

I had to admit, so far our new lifestyle had suited me very well. It had never crossed my mind that having a regular lover could bring such an exciting new dimension to my life and the fact that my husband Peter knew, encouraged and apparently enjoyed my having sex with another man made it all delightful if rather surreal.

It's extraordinary what we humans can call 'normal' if we want to. Pete and I were only a couple of months into this new and exciting way of living but already the way in which we talked and behaved had changed without any conscious decision on our part. We now discussed my infidelity freely and openly when we were alone, and used both the 'f' and 'c' word routinely in normal conversation between the two of us - something I would have thought impossible only a few months ago.

The idea behind our new lifestyle had been that I should spend every Thursday evening on a 'date night' with my lover, Tony. What we did on those nights was up to us, as long as I told my husband honestly all the intimate details -- if he wanted to know, of course. I also had to allow him free, unrestricted access to my body immediately after the date including, if he wanted, what had rapidly become his favourite sexual activity -- 'eating the creampie' between my thighs.

I must confess, at first I had found the idea of my husband wanting to lick another man's semen from my vulva to be completely incomprehensible and, to be even more honest, quite disgusting. But one look at the obvious delight he was getting from the experience quite reconciled me to it and, as I say, it had already become a fixture in our lives.

The fact that my husband is remarkably good at oral sex certainly helped me come to terms with this! The fact that my now-hairless pussy multiplied the sensations his mouth provided helped even more!

On the subject of pussies, although I had always hated the teenage American word, now that my own vulva was devoid of hair, the name seemed to fit much better so I had begun to use it both with my husband and with Tony.

As a bit of advice to my female readers though, if you feel like 'going bare down there' yourself, I would strongly recommend having it professionally waxed rather than a do-it-yourself shave. Although the shaving itself is unquestionably arousing, the stubble grows back really quickly. Once you start shaving, you have to be prepared to do it every couple of days -- every day you think you might have a visitor down there!

As I sat back in my chair wishing I could have a proper lunch and wondering when next to shave my pussy, little did I realise that I was about to enter perhaps the most difficult period of my entire married life; a period that almost brought my twenty-plus year relationship to an end.

***

Although our new lifestyle was less than three months old, my husband appeared to have already factored my ongoing infidelity into his life. There had been a few problems but we were overcoming them, the principal one being that Pete no longer referred to Tony by name and clearly resented the way his best friend had seduced me, his wife a month before I had confessed and it had all become 'official'.

There had been several occasions I had to remind him that without his continued urgings, I would probably never have committed adultery at all, let alone taken an ongoing lover. To be fair, when reminded, Pete accepted some of the responsibility for my initial adultery but would then remind me in turn that our bedroom fantasies had been based on my having multiple lovers and being fucked while he watched. Neither of these had yet happened; the implication being that I was getting the lion's share of the benefit our new lifestyle was providing.

Although I hadn't liked being told this, in truth Pete was quite right; he was being very patient over my continuing affair with Tony. Right then I was getting what I really wanted in bed; incredible, mind altering sex with a handsome man on a very regular basis.

My fantasy had come true in full but Pete was getting only part of his. I guessed my husband's forbearance would not last forever so I would have to take some steps soon to give him what he really wanted too.

Meanwhile my relationship with Tony was beginning to become a lot more complicated.

Life with families being what it is, our planned regular Thursday fuck-dates hadn't always been possible so we had met on a few other days too, including a Saturday morning when I should have been in the gym. The sex continued to be wonderful though; if anything it had become even better recently. Our minds and bodies were tuning in to each other's nicely and we were both learning what pleased the other most.

Indeed since New Year, the physical side of the relationship had soared. The presence of our kids at home over the festive period had been something of a frustration and the long message-sex we had enjoyed on an almost daily basis had been nowhere near adequate. Both Tony and I had been keen to get into our regular hands-on bed sessions once again as soon as possible.

Our houses finally empty of kids, our fucking had resumed in earnest it was immediately apparent that we had both done a bit of festive season research into new sexual possibilities. As a result we had had a lot of fun over the last month. My ageing joints still ached from having been twisted into unfamiliar contortions but it was what my trainer at the gym would have called a 'good pain'. It certainly made the memories much more vivid

When I had told my husband that Tony and I were planning to try new positions, all he had asked was that it would always end with Tony ejaculating inside me at least once so he could still eat his creampie afterwards.

I was happy to oblige; as I have said before, in my view the only way for sex ever to finish is with a good, copious insemination of my still-fertile female body.

Pete also asked that I tried to remember what positions we used and which worked best so I had done as promised and had been amused to see another blue charm waiting on my pillow as I went to bed after my first January date.

Three charms more had followed over the following weeks. I looked at the increasingly heavy bracelet that now seldom left my wrist, not realising how much heavier and how much more colourful it was to become over the coming year. I smiled every time I looked at it. Pete was a genius; as a choice of present for a new Hotwife, it could hardly have been better. Our new lifestyle seemed to be suiting us and the year ahead looked bright and promising.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

Looking back, I should have known it would happen. I had certainly known about the risk but had been too involved in my sex life to do anything about it. Every single one of my online cuckold friends had warned me about it too so there was no excuse.

In my defence, having never cheated on my husband before, I was inexperienced in the ways of the adulterer and even more naive in the ways of the Hotwife so would always have been prone to making rookie errors.

Even so, with my researches and advice from my online friends, I should have been more prepared than I was.

***

"Please Penny!" the message from Tony on my secret mobile phone read. "I can't wait that long."

"I know I'm sorry but I have to be here for her," I reluctantly replied. "You know what she's like."

The 'she' in question was my daughter Isobel -- Izzy for short who had come home unexpectedly mid-week, announcing that she planned to stay three nights and would return to her student flat on Saturday.

I had missed her terribly since she went off to University so her visit had come as a very pleasant surprise but it had also put a stop on the Official Hotwife date with Tony which had been planned for Thursday night. Tony was naturally disappointed and from a sex point of view, so was I; it meant that there would be nearly two full weeks between our fuck-dates but we both knew where my priorities must lie, especially because I was anxious about the reason for my daughter coming home suddenly in the middle of term.

Izzy was twenty years old and a second year student at a Russell Group University a good four hours' drive away. She was tall like me, but darker skinned and with long almost jet black hair that reached well below her shoulders. Always very sporty, she was a thinner than me to point of being skinny with extraordinarily long legs which she tended to show off wearing skirts which were much too short. Unfortunately she had inherited my tiny boobs too but overall was a strikingly pretty girl.

The train journey home was long and, as with all British trains, was very expensive so an unscheduled visit was a rare event. Add to that the fact that Izzy was a highly conscientious student who almost never skipped lectures and a clear message was received by both Pete and me: something was wrong.

A mother's instinct to look after her children overcomes all others so, despite an increasing desire for sex with Tony that was becoming increasingly difficult to control, there was no question that I would postpone our Official Date to be there for our daughter.

"When will she arrive?" Tony's message asked.

"Her train's due at six. I'm picking her up on my way home from work."

"When does she go back?" the question buzzed on my secret phone.

"Saturday morning," I replied.

"Can't we fix a date for the weekend when she's gone? We could cover a lot of ground in an hour, Mrs Sexy Barker."

I smiled; Tony had started to call me by my married name a lot more often. He knew it sent a thrill through me, highlighting the illicit nature of our extra-marital relationship.

"Pete won't like it," I typed quickly. "We're out on Saturday night and with my parents Sunday afternoon."

"Can't you make another exception? It worked last time!"

"I don't know. It's not what I agreed with Pete."

"Please Penny. Just an hour? Doesn't your pretty pink pussy want to meet my thick cock again?"

She most certainly did; I could feel myself lubricating just thinking about it.

"Maybe!" I teased.

"Doesn't she want to feel my tongue on her freshly-shaved lips?"

She wanted that too; oral sex had moved onto a new plane since I had shaved my vulva at New Year and acquired my first ever bare 'pussy'.

"That's possible too," I replied.

"And doesn't your belly want to feel my cum inside? Doesn't it want me to make another baby in you?"

Oh God! He'd hit the spot! Even though I most certainly didn't want another child and Tony's vasectomy made it impossible anyway, the mere thought of a man's semen actually creating new life in my womb sent a shiver of arousal through me.

"When are you free?" I typed.

"Any time you want me," came the immediate reply.

"I'll see what I can do," I messaged back. "Got to go now; Pete's around."

"Bye Penny. I love you!"

"I love you too," I typed before tucking the illicit mobile into my handbag and going back to folding the washing before Pete entered the room.

***

The first 'exception' Tony was referring to had occurred the previous week. According to my agreement with Pete it shouldn't have happened but I had felt as if I had had no choice.

The first Friday in February had been the three-month anniversary of the start of my affair with Tony. Three months since I had abandoned the monogamous life I had lived for more than twenty years and had first cheated on my husband. So much had happened since then that it was hard to believe it was only twelve short weeks since I had first been seduced, stripped and fucked on our lounge carpet but the calendar didn't lie.

To mark this momentous event Tony and I had wanted to have a romantic dinner together followed by a night in an even more romantic hotel. It would be the first time he and I had spent a whole night together and the thought of not having to rush home after sex, waking up next to each other and perhaps even enjoying the sweetest of early morning copulations was making my heart beat faster.

It was having an effect on other parts of me too every time I thought about it.

The problem was that, according to our agreement, Pete had to consent to this new form of infidelity and I didn't think he would. Despite having accepted my continuing to have sex with Tony, Pete still resented the way in which it had all started. Tony had been one of his closest friends and yet he had seduced me at a time when I was very much in a normal, faithful marriage.

It was too much to expect my husband to accept us celebrating this betrayal with another, deeper form of infidelity and yet Tony had been putting me under increasing pressure to go away with him for the night - with or without Pete's agreement.

Okay, if I'm honest, the pressure was coming from within me at least as much as it was from Tony; a romantic overnight stay was something I desperately wanted too. As the days had passed and the anniversary grew closer, the desire had grown stronger, my scruples had gradually fallen away and the unthinkable had become a bit more thinkable each day.

It took a while for the logic to develop and when it did, it was warped but it went like this: if I asked my husband to let me spend a night away with my lover and he refused, I would have to say no to Tony and that would be that. I wouldn't go directly against Pete's clearly stated will.

However, my sex-fuddled mind reasoned, if I didn't ask Pete at all he couldn't say no. So if I slept overnight with Tony without asking, I wouldn't be going directly against him, would I? And if he never found out it had happened, all could still be well. What Pete didn't know, couldn't hurt him, right?

It was a weak, self-serving argument but I was a weak, selfish person so with some unease, I had lied to my husband, telling him I had to attend a full day conference in London and stay overnight in a hotel.

It was mistake; another in a line of mistakes in fact but it raised no eyebrows. Attending conferences all over the world was a fundamental part of my job. I had then lied to Tony too, telling him Pete had agreed to our overnight stay after all and the whole thing was arranged.

It's worth a quick word about conferences here because they have featured heavily in my professional life and were going to play an even more important role in the future too.

In essence, the British National Health Service loves conferences. While the NHS itself might be short of cash, the Pharmaceutical industry most certainly isn't and even these days splashes it around in ways it thinks will best influence doctors to prescribe the latest and most profitable drugs and devices.

Pharmaceutical industry funds find their way into research such as mine, into special interest groups in different disciplines, into networking and of course, into conferences. I myself was a regular speaker at conferences all over the world, earning fees both for my hospital and personally but the latter were mostly confined to rather generous expenses.

Conferences can be a superb vehicle by which best practice can be disseminated around the medical world, bringing together the best minds and most eager students in a single place to interact. They can vary from one day presentations for a handful of attendees to week long international get-togethers in smart hotels with fine dining, entertainment, outings and plenty of time to get to know each other.

And that is where the problems start. Doctors and Medical Researchers are no different from any other members of society when it comes to consuming free food and drink and behaving badly as a result. In some respects we are probably worse as our jobs bring us closer to the human body than most. If you are new to the conference scene it takes a day or so to understand the dynamic going on beneath the surface but in essence, attendees who would like a little guilt-free, no-strings sex seek out other like-minded individuals during the networking sessions with a view to hooking up later in the evening.

Don't be shocked -- this happens in every industry in every country and is unavoidable. Marital status is no barrier either to the seducer or the seduced and there is an unwritten but well observed attitude that 'what happens at conference, stays at conference'.

Of course, human nature being what it is, the overwhelming dynamic is of older, experienced men preying on younger, naive girls but the reverse and every other combination is also true. Several well-respected Professors to my certain knowledge had Conference Wives -- women they routinely slept with while away but never at any other times. Almost all of these men and women were married.

I myself had been forced to repel attempts at seduction for a number of years. I had managed to retain my fidelity, though not without a few close calls. Interestingly, though the assaults of my marriage vows had been most frequent when I was younger, now I was in my fifties for some reason they had started again.

The conference to which I had pretended to be invited wasn't one of those. It was a regular one-day event in a London hotel at which I had spoken several times before and which would rouse no suspicion. The opportunity for anyone even to try and seduce me would be close to zero so Pete had no reason to feel uneasy about my absence or its apparent short notice and had waved me goodbye as my taxi had headed off down the driveway very early on Friday morning.

Of course having dropped me off at the railway station with my overnight bag, I had not boarded a train; instead I had waited a few minutes for Tony to arrive in his car and whisk me away to the countryside.

As we sped northwards along the busy roads the weather was dreary; cold and overcast. I shrugged and smiled; I didn't expect to get outside much, not when there was a roaring fire, good food, fine wine and a large four-poster bed to be enjoyed.

As it happened, I was wrong. The weather cheered up, the skies cleared, the sun put in an unexpected appearance and there was enough time to enjoy the hotel's ground and nearby countryside as well as fuck ourselves half senseless.

The hotel was everything I had hoped; romantic, small, secluded and a good fifty miles away from our homes, carefully chosen to minimise the chances of being seen by anyone we knew. Despite only being there for a little over twenty-four hours, it was a wonderful break with hot baths, a warm swimming pool, crisp white sheets and, after a hot, sweaty beginning, plenty of slow, unhurried sex.

Signing in as Tony's wife sent another illicit thrill though me.

Our first copulation took place within minutes of arriving in our room; certainly before anything had been unpacked and was as hot, violent and passion-filled as any in our entire relationship. In order to maintain the fiction of going to a conference, I had deliberately dressed in the business suit I had worn when Tony had first seduced me.

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