An introduction to hotwifing from a male perspective
It’s almost 1 am when I hear the murmur of goodnights and the sound of the front door finally clicking shut. I wait in the silent darkness, my heart pounding, until I finally hear my wife’s bare feet padding down the hall. The door opens and she giggles a bit, still tipsy, as she pulls off her dress and slips into bed next to me. Her body presses, warm and soft, against mine.
“So?” I ask her. “Are you going to tell me what happened?” I run my fingertips softly over her skin, drawing a slow line over the curve of her hips and her breasts.
I know the first part.
The work friend at the party who she had told me a few weeks ago she was attracted to. Not that she had to, as it had been obvious to anyone paying attention from the way she stood a little closer to him or touched his arm or brushed against his body as people bustled around the gathering, just a bit more animated around him, her eyes seeking his—then seeking mine. Of course, most people weren’t paying attention, not the way I was.
“Were you wet all night? When you were around him during the party?” I can see her erect nipples and the slow rise of her breasts in the dim light.
“Uh-huh. Just a little bit at first. But then, when you said I could fuck him, it was like a flood.”
She’s referring to the moment during the party when I had slipped behind her as she was pouring herself a glass of wine and had cupped a hand against her ear and whispered, “You can fuck him if you want.” She had sucked in her breath and looked at me with a sideways, hopeful glance. I continued, “But I want you right after.”
She had stuck to him like glue after that, her cheeks flushed and flirtatious glowed in her eyes when they would meet mine across the crowded room. I noted everything: her hand gently placed on the small of his back, the small side conversations, the lilt of her laughter. I could almost feel the heat and desire spreading between her legs as I watched her.
“What did you tell him?” I ask her now, feeling her body tremble under my touch.
As guests had slowly started leaving and saying their goodbyes, she had kept him back in the kitchen with her, making a round of shots for the two of them.
“We were alone in the kitchen. I told him that he should stay after everyone else leaves. I told him, ‘My husband says you can fuck me if you want.’”
A few minutes later, he had lingered, hanging back as we gathered at the door to say goodbye to our second-to-last guests. As soon as the gate closed on them, she turned and started kissing him, softly at first, then hungrily. They were oblivious to me as I watched them make out, hands sliding over each other’s bodies. As he pressed himself against her, her face was an intoxicated mixture of joy, need, and ecstasy. “Come on,” she said breathily and pulled him into the small den I use as an office.
I had gone into the bedroom at that point, my ears burning, attuned to every muffled moan and exhalation, every sound of clothing rustling and lips against lips. I was rock hard, laying in the dark, waiting for her, stroking my cock with a feather-light touch, edging myself to the brink of exploding with every bump and knock and barely audible gasp I hear from the room down the hall.
“What happened when you went into the office with him?” I am still hard now, as my fingers trace slowly down across her belly, and she squeezes your legs together and then lets them fall open.
“I got on my knees and unzipped his jeans.” She whispers now, with a hushed urgency, her excitement and desire barely contained. “And I took out his cock. He was very, very hard, and it curved up a little.”
“Did you taste it?”
“Yes. I licked the tip. And then I took it into my mouth. Just the tip.” She has her fingers wrapped gently around my cock now, and I can feel myself pulsing against them.
“I took it deeper into my mouth.”
“Was he throbbing?”
“Yes,” she breathes. My own fingers are hovering next to her slit, which is drenched.
I want her with an animal urgency now. I turn her over, so she is on her hands and knees, and get behind her, with the head of my hard cock just barely inside her. “Tell me what happened next.”
“I thought he was going to come in my mouth. I could taste it, even. Then he pulled out. He said he wanted to fuck me.”
“What did you do?” I slide my cock a little deeper into her.
“I slid my panties off from under my dress and told him to fuck me.”
I slide my cock inside her all at once. She’s so aroused that it’s effortless, and she cries out with pleasure and surprise. “How did he fuck you?”
“From behind.” She is almost breathless. “I was so fucking wet for him.” She knows this is what I want to hear. I start to fuck her slowly, my cock swollen and solid, hot inside her.
“Did you cum?” I can feel her already dripping pussy gush and spasm around my cock.
“Yes.” I am fucking her hard now, breathless myself, wanting her more than I have ever wanted her before, amazed by her beauty, her sensuality, her power.
“Did he cum inside you?”
My cock bursts into her, adding my hot load to his, and I thrill to imagine that my wife has felt two men’s cock spasm inside her tonight. We lay wrapped in each other’s bodies in exhausted bliss until we finally pass out. The next morning the first thing I do is go to the den, where I find her panties on the floor next to my desk, just as I had hoped. Immediately, I feel a familiar pang of desire—for my hotwife to have more cock.
You might be wondering what on earth is happening and whether I’m in my right mind. Who on earth would let their spouse have sex with others, much less be turned on by it? The answer—a whole lot of people—might surprise you. Perhaps you are familiar with the concept of the “hotwife” or have fantasized about it, or perhaps the idea is completely novel to you. Whatever the case, you probably have some questions.
First, what is a hotwife and what is hotwifing?
The simplest definition of a hotwife is a married woman who has been given permission by her spouse (usually but not exclusively her husband) to have sex with other people for the mutual erotic pleasure of both partners. There are many variations and subsets of the hotwifing culture within that broad framework, of course.
Cuckold culture, for example, intersects with BDSM culture in its focus on deriving mutual pleasure from the submission and humiliation of the married male partner whose dominant wife seeks better-endowed men to couple with.
Another variation at the cuckolding end of the spectrum is the idea of a hotwifing within the construct of a “female-led relationship” or “FLR,” which is the simple idea of a relationship in which a woman has more power in a relationship than the man, and “leads” the relationship.
A hotwife can also, of course, act out a submissive role in satisfying her dominant husband’s desires to share her with other men or by following his instructions to submit herself to them and to please them.
In practice, dominant and submissive roles are frequently even combined or switched up, with a dominant woman cuckolding her submissive husband and humiliating him by submitting herself to men (“bulls”) who are more dominant, better endowed and have more sexual prowess than the cuckolded husband.
Separate from the BDSM context, hotwifing overlaps with good old swinging and the practice of “swapping” partners without any particular attention to power transference or dominance/submission dynamics whatsoever. And while the term “hotwifing” originates in a traditional heterosexual marriage context, nothing about the practice precludes it from being adopted or adapted into all kinds of gender and sexuality identities and couplings across the continuum. A cuckquean, for example, is the female equivalent of a cuckold: a wife who enjoys (or fantasizes about) her husband having sex with other women.
Types of Hotwife
It’s also important here to point out that this is a kink people enjoy across a broad spectrum of levels of engagement. Many couples engage in hotwifing exclusively at the level of fantasy pillow talk or roleplaying a hotwife encounter.
For some couples, a hotwife telling the details from real encounters from the distant past (perhaps from before marriage) is enough, for others, hearing the juicy bits right after an actual encounter is the whole point and serves as foreplay for mind-bending sex.
For many, entering their hotwifing right after another man has cum inside her is the ultimate moment, and there are all kinds of theories about this as “reclaiming” her and the idea that it induces frenzied desire due to the primal evolutionary drive of “sperm competition”.
For other hotwives and their husbands, pictures and videos of a hotwife’s encounter with her “bull” provide peak erotic pleasure that can be watched again and again by the husband.
For other couples, there is no substitute for being there, either as part of a threesome or simply being in the room watching… or perhaps in the next room, alone with their imagination and the sounds of the hotwife’s pleasure.
The bottom line is that hotwifing is a kink with lots of different shades and flavours, some of which have BDSM or power transfer twists, and many which don’t.
What is the appeal of hotwifing?
For me, and I am guessing for lots of other men involved in hotwifing, whatever the flavour, the common appeal is straightforward: It is incredibly arousing to see your wife incredibly aroused and being sexually satisfied. I derive intense pleasure from seeing the woman I love being fully alive sexy, and happy.
In the same way, hotwifing is an unbelievable turn-on to hear my wife’s moan when I slide my cock inside her or to taste her or to feel her orgasm against my face, it is intensely arousing to know she is experiencing these things with others. Sharing these experiences with her, even if another man is the one physically touching her, makes me feel more intimately connected and close to her than you can possibly imagine.
This idea, which is often referred to by the term compersion, is based on a foundation of incredible intimacy (and trust). It is hard to feel the vicarious joy you experience when your wife comes around another man’s cock if you are not deeply and closely connected to her. On the flip side, the biggest obstacles to being able to experience compersion are probably a lack of intimacy, a lack of genuine interest in your partner’s pleasure, and just plain old jealousy and possessiveness.
Let’s be clear: jealousy is a very real and genuine emotion, and a complex one as well:
It is both the antithesis of compersion and the whole concept of hotwifing, and at the same time is probably at the heart of it in some way, if for no other reason than you must get past it somehow to enjoy the kink.
It can pop up and exist right alongside the excitement and eroticism of hotwifing or be drowned in the excitement and happiness you feel for your wife.
It also has the potential to overwhelm the good stuff—a sign that you probably need to reconsider what you are doing and whether you really want your wife to be with other men.
My hotwife journey
The truth is that I was once a jealous boyfriend (and husband) long ago. How I got from there to where my wife and I are together now has been a long and somewhat tumultuous journey. The evening I described above is a good illustration of where we are now, but we did not get to that point overnight. It has been a journey of literally years, probably decades.
It sounds strange to say, but our journey toward where we are now began with me simply paying attention to my own reactions and emotions. Early on in our relationship, I had strong reactions to any hint of infidelity on the part of my wife. These were raw, strong emotions that probably involved, at their core, fear of the loss of our relationship, but also something else powerful that I could not quite put my finger on at the time. For example, when I was a young and jealous man, sometimes the most innocuous trigger (a song lyric about infidelity, for instance) would send me into jealous ruminations and a spiral of fears about my girlfriend being sexual with other men and a rush of associated images.
I think the distress I experienced came from being afraid of the sexual power of my girlfriend and, as I mentioned, from the primal fear of losing “my” person. However, at the same time I feared this, I would replay scenarios of my significant other cheating on me out in my head graphically and repeatedly. Not only that, but I would find myself intensely aroused after doing so. At that time of my life, of course, I also managed to work myself into fits of distressed anger, again mostly about the (at that time) unthinkable prospect of losing my paramour.
As my relationship with the woman who became my wife deepened and grew more intimate long-term, and stable, and as I matured and left my more volatile youth behind me, I continued to ruminate occasionally about her being with others in response to various triggers (late nights out with friends, new male friends, etc.) But while I still had these preoccupations, at least for a little while, I gradually realized that while I felt angry—in theory—about her potential unfaithfulness, I also felt aroused by that potential. Ultimately, I became aware that if I put aside the possibility (the fear) of losing her, the anger really was just… theoretical. I was outraged only because I was supposed to be outraged according to conventional social rules about monogamy in relationships.
Once I had that realization, the jealousy and anger just kind of dissolved, and all that was left was the tantalizing sexual fantasy of my wife being free, sexual, and uninhibited. As long as I still got to be with her, and be loved by her, not only could I not care less about her enjoying her sexuality and having lots of orgasms and getting laid, I actually wanted that for her, very, very much. And if I could be a part of it in some way, even better.
The process I just described took years, mind you. The hardest part was, of course, finally telling my wife about the whole idea, and the fear that she would be horrified or disgusted. When I finally did, she was surprised, I think, but also interested and aroused enough to hear my fantasies about her with other men. For us, her talking about kinky or arousing past sexual experiences in bed was a big stepping stone to other activities. It was an erotic quest to fully understand my wife as a sexual person, to feel and be aroused with her as she shared incredibly erotic, intimate things.
I was full of questions—How did you meet him? When did you know you were going to fuck him? Were you wet when he kissed you? How wet? Where did he fuck you? How many times did he fuck you? Did you cum? Did he cum inside you? – and I think she could tell from how hard the answers made me and from how wet she got providing them and from the extremely hot sex we would have as the conversation progressed that… well… that this fetish could be an awful lot of fun for both of us.
Conversations about past encounters led to sharing fantasies about new encounters. For a long time—years—our hotwifing remained in the realm of fantasy, and it was nonetheless amazingly erotic and brought us closer than ever. Just broaching the idea brought us closer by allowing both of us to share desires, experiences, sensations, and emotions we had never shared with anyone else. Talking about experiences with others and fantasies about them deepened our intimacy immensely.
Ultimately, the leap to actual encounters just kind of happened. To be honest, it doesn’t happen a lot for the simple reason that the logistics of it all—finding the right time and place, finding and screening potential partners, lining it all up—are, to be blunt, daunting and time-consuming and I think ultimately can end up taking the air out of the whole thing. Instead, we fantasize a lot, and if some kind of opportunity organically or spontaneously arises (if, say, an attractive new work acquaintance that she has to change panties after spending five minutes with every time she runs into him can conveniently come to a raucous cocktail party we are planning to throw, for instance), we might approach the possibility of turning the fantasy into hotwifing reality. Or we might decide to just let things happen organically… or whatever you want to call it. Perhaps she is visiting the same town where an old lover happens to live… she could always give him a call and meet him for a drink and see where things lead, right? And whether she meets him or doesn’t, or something happens or doesn’t, it is almost as much fun to talk about where things might lead as to find out where they do lead.
For me, it’s all very verbal
Hearing about the encounter is what it is all about, and of course talking about it beforehand and all the anticipation and days, weeks, of fantasy and foreplay that precedes it, seeing the dress she wears when the potential moment comes and what is under it, if anything).
If there is any rule, it is that
I want to hear the details, all of them. How wet was she when he walked through the door? Did she slip away to the bathroom and make herself cum at some point during the night? What did she say to him to make him stay? Did he slide her panties off from under her dress before she got on her knees? Did his cock throb in her mouth? What did he taste like? Did he fuck her from behind? Did he fuck her hard? Softly? Did she cum around his cock? Did he go down on her? Did he cum inside her?
And, of course, having my wife next to me, panting, pressed against me, the evidence of her arousal and enjoyment manifest in front of me, is the preferred way of hearing all of this. Sliding my cock inside her as she tells me all of this, feeling how wet she is, and feeling another man’s cum pushing around my own cock, dripping out of her, is an incredible turn on for me as well. I don’t know whether it has anything to do with “sperm competition” or “reclaiming,” but I know it is hot as fuck.
For me, I think it is probably that the moment I slide inside her after she has been with another man, the physical reality of her sexual freedom and power and desire, the compersion I experience, is made into a tangible biological reality that I can literally feel with my cock. She made another man cum inside her, and she is sharing that experience with me. How much closer can you get to another person?
The most important thing with hotwifing
That leads to the most important thing I want to say, which is that I love my wife so, so much. I want her to feel joy and the very best things in life, and to be free and live fully and have all kinds of experiences and adventures, including erotic adventures and knee-shaking orgasms.
We only go around once, and life is short, and sex is one the most wonderful things in it. I want my wife to enjoy it every chance she gets, and I love that I get to share in those experiences with the person who is closest to me.