Don’t You Think You Are Doing Wrong With Your Husband ?

"... Mind turning around?"

(Repost - after Tumblr moral policing)

It is indeed funny to observe a fully grown, quite-masculine a man to show his softer side and request for a permission to use my hips. And mind it, it’s not something that’s apparent only in the men I have known before, but even with most that I have been sent as a courtesan to, or even by the ones I got myself ‘hunted’ down and then taken away with him.

I have observed that most men, feel that the conquest over their woman isn’t complete until they have done something that is drastic enough to either make their efforts to do it look satisfactory, or, they have inflicted (which sometimes may just be a belief) pain on their woman to make her cringe before him and submit. Both of these conditions are satisfied when they receive the consent to do it there, for no matter how experienced one is, it still needs effort to get into the ‘position’ and the inflicted ‘pain’ when the union happens.

In either case, an element of force becomes necessary for him to convey the message to the woman that she is his property, for minutes/hours/days, however temporary the ownership is. The need to establish control has been a fundamental criteria, more with the men who have hunted me and those I have been sent to as a part of my courtesan arrangement. My husbands have been more secure and they know that they don’t need to ask me for my permission to use my hips. They have developed the ability to sense my mood and know the answer even before they would ask. The hunters, on the other hand would feel the need to exert authority and it is often when after they have attained the primary satisfaction, and is in mood to pleasure himself once more, would have popped the question, “mind turning around? really feel like using your hips”…well, that’s actually a much watered down version of the actual words used to convey their desire.

Being asked that question makes me feel proud as a woman. It tells me that he found me attractive enough to want to explore more about me. The element of pain involved in allowing a man to 'use my hips’ is always present, but the satisfaction from knowing that I am being owned by him and he is getting satisfaction from ‘using me’ for that phase is exciting enough for me to usually consent to his request for use.

Pristine White

There are instances which while I am not particularly proud of to boast, did present a mix of intense pleasure, a bit of pain and valuable experience.

Without getting into too much of details, let’s just say that the ‘gentleman’ I report to in my office enjoys a lot of "consented"-privileges on me. It wasn’t a willful decision on my part at the beginning, rather a Hobson’s choice. Having said that however, I also must add that over a period of time of getting to know each other ‘very closely’ while deriving pleasure, a level of fondness did develop and what started as a coerced submission eventually paved its way into willful enthusiasm in full consent. That although didn’t mellow him, he knew he won’t have to struggle to enjoy his rights at his will.

A time came when he knew about his ‘ownership’ status on my physical being and being personally very satisfied, it was then extended to his very close friends and few men whose decisions mattered a lot on the scope of new business to be won. It was on one of these ‘extended privileges’ that I found myself in a position similar to the image here, which reminded me of it. I was summoned into his office on one of the days and I found one of his friends sitting in his cabin, someone who had been close to me a few times at my boss’ home. Something told me the mood prevailing inside the room wasn’t a very upbeat one. “You have an assignment”, my boss told me very matter-of-factly. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to send you for this one, but then I trust only you to handle this. He will tell you of the rest while you will be on your way in the car this evening”, he said, pointing me towards his friend. He then turned towards his friend and told him, “you need to assure that she is safely escorted out after the ‘assignment’ is over and faces no difficulty in reaching home. You need to be present yourself there and not through one of you other employees. I will not risk her at all. You need to assure me of that”. His friend responded with a complete assurance and his physical presence at all times permitted. “Call me once you are out upon completion of the task and have reached home. I will be anxious about your return”, he told me.

While in the car on my way to a really posh hotel that evening, his friend explained. A really big decision is awaited from a political leader of a western country. Apparently he would be leaving India in the coming week and by then would have formed his mind about the decision which will have a direct impact on the business that this friend is engaged into. So far, he feels that the decision would be in his favour. However he has been privately ‘requested’ by this leader that while in India, he was desirous of trying out everything Indian to satisfy himself as to if he should sign the document in favour of a businessman in India. He wanted to be with someone Indian to show him around the city on the next day in case he liked her company today. He paused and looked at me and the implications of ‘everything Indian’ sunk into me. Hence is his need to borrow my presence from my boss for the evening.

He made a call to the people in the hotel to ensure that I am not made to wait in the lobby under any circumstances and be escorted to the appointed suite immediately. He told me that this leader made it very clear that no compromise to be made on the quality and thus only someone with a recommendation be allowed to come inside his room. Definitely not someone who is available for a price. And so, I am from this moment on be known as his best-friend’s wife, someone who he had to coax and persuade a lot, a lot to her agreement to come over for a while today and show him around the city for the rest of his stay here.

We reached the hotel. The organization was flawless, I was forthwith escorted by my “husband’s best-friend” to the floor where the suite was. When he knocked, the door was opened by a gentleman who greeted both of us with a big welcome. We came inside and the door was locked behind us. Our host said he was very pleased that I could come to spend some time with him today and maybe over the next few days to show him around. I smiled and pointed to my companion and said, I came only because he and my husband are best-friends and…”, I paused and added, “and he really really persuaded me to meet you”. I guess my mention about my exclusivity impressed our host and he invited the two of us to have a drink. My boss’ friend quickly mentioned that he had to attend to some very important calls and would rather be there. He requested our host to call him so that he could come to pick me up once our host is ready. He rose and left.

My host poured me a glass of wine and asked if I wanted to have a small dance with him. I said I am not very good in it but probably can try. Gulping down a few quick ones, he put on a nice waltz and beckoned to me to join him. The dim yellow lights really played on with our moods. I adjusted my saree and offered my hand to him to lead me into the dance. He pulled me closer and pretty soon his hand was pressing down on my waist while pulling my torso firmly against him as we waltzed around. There were smiles and giggles and touches and feels all over me. Somewhere between the drinks and the dances I realized I was in the process of losing my saree and the petticoat. He paused for a moment to look at me. I think he felt satisfied savouring the sight of everything Indian in a dusky brown complexion which was a stark contrast against his fairness. I saw him loosen his belt and unbuttoning his trousers which fell to the ground as he stepped out of it. I saw him pulling the elastic of his underwear down till his lower body was in nude. He stepped closer and a push backwards landed me on the soft, smooth, pristine white linen on the big bed. A combination of several rapid movements made me realize I was pinned down on the soft, white bed while his entire fair-skinned physique with hairy chest hovered all over me, pausing to feel specific places before moving on to the next. Despite his urge, he exercised good control over myself to ensure I get into the mood too instead of just submitting. It felt good and I allowed him to keep playing. A while later, I don't know how long was it after, I realized he was trying to align himself with me to engage in coitus while pinning me down under his huge frame. A momentary sensation of a robust erection trying to find its way inside me was followed by the feeling of a 'void' inside me which got gradually filled. There were a few seconds of rest while he rejoiced in the successful breaching of the castle door and then he assumed his primal masculine form to begin the process to summon his seeds. The thrusts were powerful enough to jerk my entire body upwards even while being under his enormous masculine weight.

It may sound funny now, but the last thought that flashed through my mind before the pleasure of his maleness numbed the consciousness out of me was that the pristine-white bedsheets won’t be as white tomorrow morning after they dry.

More Stag & Vixen captions at: http://stagandvixen.tumblr.com/

Please complete your story about your first encounter with your stag, how he managed to make you meet him?

Maybe someday I will...

And yeah please also let me know the meaning of mini death please.

The mini death that I mentioned on my profile, if you want to understand, please google La Petite Mort.

Does your husband (real one) know about your lifestyle? What happens if he finds out?

No, he doesn't. Life is too short to speculate of the 'if-then' situations.

With you restarting blogging after the Tumblr purge, maybe now's a good time to finish the tale of your stag.

Thank you for the message, maybe I will finish it sometime. Incidentally, any particular reason why you choose to remain ‘anonymous’?

Hell Explained By A Chemistry Student

Thank you!

I am thankful to the 17,600+ members who have been following my posts for their encouragement and compliments.

While I do not desire to either close or log out of this account, I understand Tumblr may be thinking in a different way. It’s an executive decision and whether I agree to it or not is not material. We need to abide by it because we are after all ‘free’ users of the service.

So, once again, a big note of thanks to each of the 17600+ members who considered to follow my posts and encourage me to share more. If my account remains here, we shall meet again, else, this parting is well made.

Auf wiedersehen.

Question 1: What was the most thrilling moment for you since you embarked on the path of becoming a hot wife..

The proposal to make me a hotwife came from my stag, who, if you have read my previous blogs, would know is not my husband. When he proposed exploring the hotwife option, I was in mixed feelings…on one hand I have never done this before, on the other hand I wanted to see him happy. I did blog previously about my initiation into the hotwife life, so won’t write in detail here.

Coming back to your question, strange as it may sound, the most thrilling moment for me was when my first bull and I was alone and inside our room, and I knew what he was going to do to me (needless to mention his enthusiasm to do it was very high), and he undressed me; there I was, not in the least embarrassed or apprehensive, just enjoying the feeling of letting him take control over me.

It was thrilling to me because, I thought I would cringe or might even back out (though honestly speaking I didn’t stand a chance to tell my bull at that stage that he can’t do it to me and be allowed to get released) from being touched, felt and undressed by ‘another man’. But surprisingly I stood there while he removed my clothes and started feeling me all over and I was actually deriving pleasure from letting him do so and thus comfortably without the slightest hesitation adopted my new role of being a hotwife.