Hi, everyone, I'm Riley. Long time reader of the site, who has eventually picked up the courage to write about some of her own exploits. I'm a married twenty-six year old English woman. Around five foot two, shoulder length midnight black hair, a firm really full little bottom which has always gotten lots of attention, B cup breasts and deep blue eyes.
I've loved sex ever since I first experienced it. I've always loved the way guys look at me and knowing they wanted to fuck me always turned me on. When I was younger if a guy did look at me that way I would usually let him if I liked him. The act of giving myself to a guy in such a way always turned me on. I've never been into BDSM but being submissive and letting a guy do exactly what he wants with you is something that always made me feel naughty. I got off on the act itself, if it was something that made me feel dirty then I would always be willing to try it. In school and university, I developed a reputation and I certainly encouraged it.
I've been happily married to my husband Harry for five years. We met during the last day of a festival I went to that Summer. After a wild night of partying. I woke up and discovered my wallet had been stolen. I was stood there as everyone else was packing away their tents and I just broke down and started crying uncontrollably. Then this handsome guy came up to me. He was a few years older than me and asked me what was wrong. He just hugged me randomly and when I was able to eventually calm down I told him what had happened. We talked for a bit and got to know each other.
Despite the fact that the festival was down South and I was attending a university in the Midlands he offered to drive me home as he only lived a few hours from where I was studying. We packed away my stuff and he refused to let me carry anything. Even when he was carrying both of our stuff to his car. We left the site and stopped off at some services where be bought me breakfast and after drove me home. The drive was a few hours and we got to know each other, realising we shared similar tastes in music, films and books.
As he pulled up outside my university I reached over and put my hand on his crotch. I was actually really surprised when he placed my hand back on his lap. He might not have been into girls I wasn't sure.
"You don't need to do that. Sometimes it feels good just to be kind to a random stranger." Harry explained to me.
I was dumbfounded that he was willing to turn down my advances. He was really cute and this just made me want him more. He helped me carry my stuff up to the dorms. I managed to get his number and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he said he had to leave. I just sat there in my room clutching his number still trying to process what had just happened. I managed to last a day before I called him.
Harry wasn't like another guy I had ever dated. Usually, they were just in it for a quick fuck and so was I. But Harry treated me differently. He bought me gifts, took me out for expensive meals and romantic walks. He didn't make any advances at all, a kiss every so often. This just made me want him more. When I started seeing Harry, I stopped playing around with other guys. My friends were all surprised that Riley the slut had suddenly become Riley the demure girlfriend. I was madly in love with him. Six months after we met he proposed. I said yes instantly and we were married within a few months.
Harry has never once asked about my past, that until I met him I lived a fairly debauched lifestyle. He's never shown any interest and never judged me for anything I've ever done. I think that is what I love the most about my husband he gives me stability. I love my husband with every fiber of my being. Harry isn't like any other guy I have ever been with. He doesn't have any wild fantasies he's perfectly content with fucking me a few times a week. I have a far higher sex drive than my husband. He satisfies my sexually but I often find myself touching myself thinking back on old experiences.
It was a typical Saturday afternoon. Harry was downstairs watching the football with his friend Steve. As I've never had any interest in football I was sat in Harry's office upstairs watching porn and playing with myself. I did occasionally go down to see if the guys wanted another beer or anything to eat. I dressed up to do so with an outfit Harry had requested. One of Harry's sillier fantasies was having sex with me while I was wearing the shirt of the team he supported. The one he bought me, of course, was a kid's size shirt so my breasts strained against the material. I also had on a tiny little pair of shorts which made my bum look really good.
Most of all I liked the attention of having them both look at me when I was serving drinks. I noticed Steve staring. Steve was in his early thirties. He was fairly tall and had a really thin crop of blonde hair. He clearly worked out as he was fairly well built. The tight shirt he had on showed off his physique really well.
I could hear shouts from downstairs as I was reading but they shouted regardless of which side was doing well so I had no idea if Harry's team were doing well or not. A little later and what I think was close to half time I heard the distinct sounds of Harry retching in the bathroom. This was quickly followed by our bedroom door being slammed. Curious I went to see what was happening and found Harry sprawled on the bed. My husband has always been a lightweight when drinking and I suspected had probably had too much as his team was losing.
Annoyance crept over me. Usually, when the game was on Harry would come up for a quickie during half time. I had been eagerly awaiting a quick fuck. I left him alone in our bedroom and went back to watching porn. I slipped my hand into my shorts and started to rub myself. As I brought myself to climax a terrible thought occurred in my mind. I started to have flashbacks to my teen years thinking back on being a bad girl and doing things I would never do with my husband. Something snapped inside me and as much as I knew I shouldn't I also knew that I was going to do so.
The idea now fully formed in my mind and I could feel myself getting a little wet at the thought of it. Steve had also just recently broken up with his girlfriend Sarah. I slipped my shorts off so I was just wearing the football shirt and tiny little pink thong. After putting certain thoughts to the back off my mind I went downstairs. Steve was still sat in the lounge engrossed in the half time show.
"Do you want another beer, Steve?" I called out to him.
"Yeah, that would be great." He replied.
I went to grab him a beer out of the fridge.
"Where's Harry?" He called.
"Passed out upstairs. He always drinks too much when his team loses." I answered.
Which means he won't be disturbing us I thought to myself. I headed back into the lounge. Steve still intently watching the game not noticing my state of undress. I wanted attention so I leant over him as I passed him the beer pushing my breasts into his face. I sat down on the sofa next to him making sure my legs were spread and arching my back a little so my breasts strained even more against the tight football shirt as I pushed my chest out. It took Steve a moment to notice before it suddenly dawned on him I had taken my shorts off.
