The Party Where I Stopped Being a Decent Wife

Hello to whoever is reading me. My name is Rosana and I’m not a writer or anything like that, but what has happened to me these past few months turns me on so much that I need to tell it somewhere.

Since this is a page for erotic stories, I’m going to cut to the chase and describe myself. For better or worse, I fit a few clichés: I’m mature, dyed blonde, big-breasted, and with a good ass. And that’s what I really see in the mirror; I’m not making it up.

I’m on my way to fifty-six. They say I wear my age very well, that I look younger and that I’m still a beautiful woman with curves. I have brown, lively eyes, shoulder-length straight hair and almost always bangs, which suit me.

And I’m busty, very busty. An enormous bra size that with menopause has only gotten bigger. It’s the only good thing that change has left me, because the rest has been a pain in the ass. What’s funny is that they’ve gained volume without sagging, a blessing of genetics that I boast about without the slightest modesty.

I don’t have a flat stomach or an hourglass waist, I’ve got a few extra kilos and I don’t care. I’m proud of my body, especially my breasts, which are set close together and spread outward to the sides, crowned by large pink areolas. I’ve got a nice ass, round and still firm, and a pussy I never wanted to shave completely because I don’t like that little-girl feeling or the itching afterward.

I’ll tell you a bit about my sex life so you understand the rest. I came to it late, well into my twenties, with a boyfriend who was fine and nothing more. With the next one I learned almost everything: he was a dominant bad boy, too intense, with a huge cock that gave me pleasure and hurt me in equal measure. He ate my pussy like nobody else, but he also laughed at me, told me I was too little of a woman for such a big cock, and left me hanging when I complained.

From that time I kept one habit: I hated it when they came in my mouth. That guy did it without warning and laughed when I spat, so I ended up developing a real disgust for swallowing semen and I never let anyone do it again.

When I left him, I decided to forget about boyfriends for a while. Those were a few wild years of going out with my single friends every weekend, meeting guys and fucking with no strings attached. There was everything: unforgettable fucks and fucks to forget. I got better and better at sucking cock, and I enjoyed anal sex again when the guy knew how to do it carefully.

That summer was the wildest of all. I rented an apartment for a whole month in Salou with three workmates, and we came up with a contest to see who would fuck the most. Whoever did it every day wouldn’t pay the rent. I won, all thirty-one days, and there was one day I went to bed with three different men. I remember it with a smile I shouldn’t have.

What fucked me up was a family lunch when I got back. I drank too much and told my adventures to a very devout cousin. She gave me an endless sermon: that I was a promiscuous sinner, that I used my body badly, that no decent man would ever take me seriously. I laughed in her face, but in the following days I started turning it over and over in my head and I fell into a spiral of guilt that ruined my enjoyment for years.

And that was the state I was in the day I met the man who is now my husband, Marcos. No bad boy at all, quite the opposite: calm, kind, proper. It was love at first sight and in less than three years we got married and had our two children. With him sex was always active but conventional. I never confessed to him what my life had been like before I met him. Anal sex, for example, got left in the drawer because I was ashamed to admit I liked it. My cousin’s damn sermon kept echoing in my head for far too many years.

As happens in almost all couples, over time the sex dwindled. And for a couple of years now, especially since last spring, my body started rebelling on its own.

I began having erotic dreams almost every night, very raunchy ones. One repeated itself: me naked, surrounded by men lining up to fuck me, and I took them all one by one. I woke up sweating, with my pussy leaking, and had to masturbate two or three times in a row to calm down.

Another was with that dominant boyfriend’s huge cock from my youth. He fucked me hard, left my ass stretched open, and sometimes came in me without stopping until everything turned white. In those cases, besides my clit, he’d shove one or two fingers up my ass until I came. I couldn’t understand why I was dreaming so much about a man who had given me more headaches than joys.

I didn’t know whether it was hormones, needing more sex, or what. Marcos knew nothing, and I felt awful, as if I were cheating on him with my own subconscious. I didn’t know how to tell him. I was mortified.

***

One afternoon in early July, while fighting the heat in my florist shop, Pilar came in, a regular customer. She had come to invite us: she was turning fifty-six and had thrown a party to celebrate. A party is always good to break the routine, I thought.

—And how come you’re celebrating fifty-six? —I asked her—. People usually celebrate fifty, sixty…

—I know it’s not the usual thing —she answered—. But I celebrated fifty in a big way, then the damn pandemic lockdown came and I couldn’t celebrate anything for a couple of years. When everything calmed down, I decided I’d celebrate my birthday every year without fail. The way the world is, you have to celebrate everything.

—You’re absolutely right. Count us in —I replied, excited.

The day came and off we went, Marcos, the kids and I, to a restaurant for events. We were having a really good time. What caught my attention was that Pilar and her husband hardly interacted: he drank with his friends and she went from table to table chatting with everyone. After dinner the music started, and at one point I saw Marcos dancing cheerfully with Pilar. I went over and joined them.

—What a party you’ve thrown, Pilar —I told her.

—Thanks, are you having a good time?

—Great. Can’t you see how at ease Marcos is with you?

—Yes, your husband is giving it his all —she laughed. I took the chance to ask about hers—. Mine? No idea. He’ll be off drinking with his buddies, which is what he likes best at parties. That and ignoring me.

—Maybe I’m sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong, but on your birthday he should pay you more attention.

—Of course he should. But you must have seen he has other priorities.

Then Marcos jumped in, already a bit tipsy.

—Well, then he’s an idiot, with the knockout woman he’s got. With the number of men here, more than one is going to come on to you, and he won’t be there to stop it.

—Thank you very much, Marcos, you’re a sweetheart —Pilar answered, laughing—. Your wife is a stunner too, so you’d better watch yourself in case they start hitting on her as well. Us women in our fifties are at our best.

—Absolutely —my husband said—. What a pair of busty fifties you two are. No woman here has breasts like yours.

—Marcos, don’t talk nonsense, you’ve had two drinks and you’re getting carried away —I snapped, surprised, because he’s usually very shy.

—He’s right, Marcos —Pilar insisted in a tone that felt more arousing than joking—. Your wife and I are hot as hell, and I’m sure we could fuck any man we wanted. What do you think?

—One hundred percent agree —my husband answered without hesitation.

—And would you be one hundred percent okay with your wife fucking someone else? Would you like to watch another man fuck Rosana and make her come like a whore? —Pilar asked point-blank, with a filthy look on her face, leaving me completely thrown.

—Well… uh… I don’t know, until it happens… —Marcos stammered.

—How do you mean you don’t know? —I fired at him, genuinely annoyed—. Do you want it to happen? Do you want to fuck Pilar? Would you like to see me in bed with another man? Are you stupid or what?

Pilar took me by the arm, moved me away from Marcos, and suggested he go get another drink. My husband vanished like a shot.

—Don’t get like that with him —she told me—. He’s got a buzz on, and between that and our tits the poor man can’t think straight. Look at him, he’s hilarious.

—Don’t defend him. And you, enough with the little joke.

—I’m not joking, Rosana. Have you really never thought that, the way you look, you could fuck whoever you wanted? Don’t you feel like getting involved with another guy and fucking harder than with your husband? Just sex, no complications.

—Well… sometimes. Thoughts and dreams we all have, but they stay at that.

—Oh, you little bitch, see? You do think about it.

—The truth is lately I’ve been having some very intense dreams… —it slipped out. I had been drinking too, and alcohol always loosens my tongue.

Pilar managed to get everything out of me. I told her in detail about the wet dreams I’d had over the past few weeks, and even what my life had been like when I was single. That said, I made it clear I was happy with my husband.

—Well, lucky you —she told me, angry—. Mine hasn’t touched me in months. I’ll tell you what I want: I want to fuck! Right now I’m dying for a proper shag. And it won’t be my husband.

—Lower your voice, you maniac, people will hear you.

—I don’t care. And to show you I mean it, I’m going to fuck whoever I feel like. And you’re coming with me, because from what you’ve told me your pussy needs a lot more action than you’re giving it.

—Have you lost your mind? —was the only thing I managed to say before she dragged me toward the dance floor.

***

We danced among the crowd. Pilar rubbed up against everyone, but I was calm because they were her family and friends. Nothing was going to happen. Until she pointed toward the other side of the restaurant, where there was another party with people we didn’t know at all.

—There’s nothing to do here. Look, over there there are two groups of men. You choose which ones we’re going to flirt with.

I should have knocked the madness out of her head, but between the alcohol and how exciting the situation was, my defenses were on the floor. I looked at a group off to the side, men in their early thirties, some of them with bad-boy looks. My usual weakness.

—Those ones in the back suit us better —I said, and at once I regretted it—. I don’t know why I’m listening to you, we’re going to get into trouble.

—That’s the point, getting into trouble with them!

We went over and, contrary to what I thought, they welcomed us wonderfully. They couldn’t take their eyes off our tits. That never fails, no matter the age. We started talking about nonsense until one of them, who introduced himself as Dani, said:

—And how come two chicks like you come to our party?

—Maybe because we were bored at the other one —Pilar answered—. The men over there aren’t giving us the action we need. Right, Rosana?

My world collapsed. I looked away and said nothing.

—Well, well, two mature women who like a bit of action —said another, called Álex.

—And the more the better! —Pilar shouted, while I was dying of embarrassment.

Dani stood behind me, took me by the waist, and we started dancing very close. Álex did the same with Pilar. My head told me to pull away, but my body wanted the opposite, and everything got more complicated when I felt, through his jeans, a hard bulge rubbing my ass over the dress. The guy was hard as a rock.

Pilar was dancing pressed up against Álex and wasn’t doing anything to break away. She was touching his cock over his trousers while he squeezed her ass with one hand and groped her tits with the other, without the slightest attempt at hiding it.

Dani took my hand and brought it to his fly, moving it up and down so I’d rub him. Even through the fabric of his trousers, I could tell perfectly well that thing was big.

—What? Doesn’t what you’re touching get you wet? —he whispered in my ear, licking it.

I got turned on instantly and, without thinking, answered in a low voice:

—Fuck… yes… what a cock you’re packing.

—You’ll notice it even more when you’ve got it all inside you. It’s big and thick, just like your tits, and it’s going to drive you crazy —he squeezed one breast hard, and that pull brought me back some of my senses.

—You’d drive anyone crazy —I told him, trying to stop it—. But I’m older than you, I’m married, and my husband and kids are right next door, at the other party. This can’t happen.

I thought he’d accept it. But he was a bad boy.

—Oh, so now the married, decent mum shows up. You come here with your friend looking for cock and when I’m about to give it to you, you play hard to get. That doesn’t work on me. Deep down you’re dying for it, just let it out —he nibbled my ear while shamelessly fondling my tits. And I, instead of pushing him away, put my hands over his and ended up guiding them.

That bastard was undoing me. My breathing got quicker and quicker, I could feel my pussy wet and my nipples big and hard. I looked for Pilar with my eyes, begging for help, but she was tongue-kissing Álex like crazy. Nobody was going to get me out of there.

A few minutes later, Pilar pulled away for a second.

—We’re making too much of a scene. The manager is coming that way, I’ll be right back —she said, and soon returned waving a set of keys—. Done! I know her, I asked her for a quiet spot and she gave me the storage room in the back. Nobody will bother us there. Let’s go.

—You’ve definitely lost your mind! —I exclaimed.

With my eyes I begged her not to, but she shook her head, with that filthy look on her face, and motioned for me to go. Dani and Álex took us by the hand. Pilar was pulling Álex along decisively. Mine was almost comical: Dani dragged me while I moved one foot forward and with the other tried to step back. But in situations like that, any reaction, however absurd, is possible.

Dani opened the storeroom and closed the door behind us. There were crates of drinks, a couple of cupboards, tables and chairs stacked up. Pilar and Álex went toward the back. I was still doing my one-step-forward, one-step-back dance until I managed to yank myself loose.

—No, this is not at all clear to me —I told him.

Then he shoved me against the wall and kissed me hard, forcing his whole tongue into my mouth, searching for mine. And I kissed him back. We started devouring each other’s mouths like crazy. He pulled the straps of my dress down, sliding them off my arms, and when I realized it, the dress was bunched down to my navel. He pushed down the cups of my bra and my tits were left bare. The bra was bothering me like that, so I unhooked it and took it off completely myself.

—What a pair of melons! So big and sitting so pretty! —he shouted, ecstatic.

Instinctively I tried to cover myself with my hands, but he moved them aside so he could give my tits a proper manhandling. It had been ages since anyone touched them like that.

—And what nipples, big and hard! My wife would kill for tits like these.

Holy shit, he was married too. What was I getting into?

Dani launched himself at my nipples, sucking them harder and harder, never stopping kneading my breasts. He made me feel a pleasure I had forgotten.

—Stop, Dani, stop, please. We’re married people, this can’t… —I cut myself off—. Well, clearly it can, but we shouldn’t keep going.

And the truth is I no longer knew whether I was saying it to stop him or to stop myself.