And the thing I regret about our meeting that day is that I had been fucking a lot that day so by the time I was meeting Adrianna I was not in my most fresh state, which is a shame because I would have enjoyed fucking her all night.
I met her at one of the swing clubs that I went to in Fort Lauderdale and I told her and her husband about the site and she was more to be on it.
She is Italian American and she is as hot as the come.
The women were of a wide variety..size and shapes and dressed fancier than their men. Though they varied, each number seemed to have a specific step of steps, all of them extremely complicated and extremely fast. After a few moments, I called out: "You have any sugar and milk for this coffee." "It's considered a sin to put that stuff in good coffee. I was not unaware that I was alone in the house with a beautiful woman. Some sort of tang to it..perhaps chicory or another nut.
If there was on thing I noted about the physical appearance, it was that the general height of those there was someone shorter than I was used to. The speaker was a man who seemed to be in his early 30's, if you judged by his eyes. I was made to try, and became the butt of good-natured kidding when I could not even begin to keep up. I could understand little or nothings of the French Arcadian dialect, but was informed each was about some form of love gone wrong, or a cheating man or cheating wife. Then she appeared in my doorway, clad in that short, lacy black nightgown. Sherri walked toward me, smiling, and reminded me of what her husband had told me in the wee hours of the night.
It was, in fact, a little over 40 years ago, when I was in my early 20's. A Hotwife is a married woman who has sex with other men, with her husband's knowledge and permission.
A Hotwife does not consider herself a cheating wife, and neither does her husband.
Well, friendly enough to a stranger, I thought..not that friendly. It was toward midnight when Herb, having learned my life history and my reasons for being in Louisiana, asked where I was staying, and for how long. "Just down the road a piece, closer to the water." He turned to his wife and told her he was bringing me home. It was a smile that would have melted an iceberg, and it certainly warmed places I like warmed. I got my stuff loaded quickly in my car, and followed along a winding road through what looked like swamp country to their house. It was sitting on what looked like dry land, but it was raised on stilts. Once it was determined that I was not hungry, or needed anything more to drink, Herb showed me to my room. I managed to say I would like to do it another day. The sensation of having my cock buried to the hilt in this beautiful young wife was incredible. Again she gave a little laugh, and a toss of her head.
When I told the name of the motel, he let out a whoop. I was asleep in moments, drifting off to the sound of bullfrogs and, I thought, the muffled sounds of two people making love in the next room. "We Cajun girls are expected to learn how to do that," she said.
She stood not more than 5 feet tall, her skin like alabaster, her dark eyes flashing.
She looked like a three-quarter scale Venus "My husband said to make you feel comfortable, you know," she said in a slight voice, her Cajun accent so strong it took me a few moments to register what she was saying. "When he said anything in his house is your..meant anything." And she moved across the room toward me, languidly, sensually, a female creature too good to seem true.
You know there are some women who are just better at cocksucking than others. This many years later, I still remember..almost feel again..heat and passion. She did not stop or slow down, but continued to lick along the shaft, paying special attention to that sensitive spot just below the crown.