Considering all the build up and our first experience, you'd think that the hotwife life was going to go into orgasmic, gooey goodness and stars above for my wife and me. Right?

Wrong.

We had been in a group chat with our first guy, and in a very innocent and charming way, he was checking in to see how he'd been for her. He was her first sexual partner other than me, after all. We had already told him that we weren't comfortable meeting up with him again as he had obscured the fact that he was married. He understood - but seeking for feedback isn't a bad thing.

What threw me for a loop was my dear, sweet, innocent hotwife, gushing over his performance in bed. Using words she'd never used for me. Saying things that she'd never said to me in more than a decade of sex with me. She wanted more, though sadly not with him. But she was affirming and sweet and gushing with praise.

I know I used the word gushing twice. Her pussy, as it turns out, was also gushing.

My hurt and jealousy that day prevented me from functioning at work. I had to go home to thrash things out with my sweet hotwife. At that moment, she didn't feel so sweet though.

She struggled. The can of worms had been opened and she was itching for more sex. Physical lust was overcoming her, and I couldn't do much about it - because even I was not enough at that point.

Again and again, the hotwifing made me hurt. Our second playmate introduced fun into their sex. He would toss her around and make her do what he wanted, playfully. I never thought I could do that. He wasn't much bigger than me either, mind you.

My erectile issues did not help matters much.

And so it went on. Her first big cock was from a dominant man. Like really dominant. He commanded her and she obeyed. She called him master shortly into the play. It didn't hit home until 2 or 3 sessions later that it was causing us problems. I really DID NOT sit well with the idea that someone else could dominate MY slut without us talking about it.

You probably would think this meant our marriage would break apart. Amazingly, it didn't.

After our first play, we came up with the idea of a big red button. For both of us. Either of us could press it (virtually) and we would drop everything and come back to just us. No questions asked, no blame. We invoked that button a couple of times, until we didn't need to anymore.

I learnt a lot. I learnt that she preferred fun in sex, something that had been overlooked before. I learnt that I struggle with the concept of fun. I learnt my own limits - that I wanted to share her, but that she was still, in my male, animal side, mine sexually. Without the misogyny attached, I wanted to have her kneel and take my cock into her mouth because she wanted to. And it turns out she did want to. When another man dominated her, it became the key to us seeing what we wanted out of each other. (I recently learnt about being a compassionate domme, which is yet another facet we're exploring only now, a few years into hotwifing.)

I put more effort into my body. I'm still dadbod but leaner (I think) and stretchier (I know). I can last longer pounding her and not give up halfway because I'm out of breath. I jelqed and pumped and I'm girthier and longer than I was - not big, but at least a good size for her to feel me every time. She finds me more attractive than before physically.

On her part? She found her submissive self. She kittens even more now, and is much more enthusiastic about giving head. She performs for me, even as she takes in her physical pleasure in play. She's re-established and expanded her sexual boundaries instead of just coasting along in the past. She's keeping fit for me and for any third or lover we may find interest in. Her lust tapered down a little after the initial burst, and now her slut peeks out now and then, more controlled, but still a purring little kitten waiting for that cup of cream. With claws. Her little slut though, loves to have her butt caressed, her neck bitten, and her butt thrust out into my crotch while I firmly grope her and rub her through her shorts till she comes with a small cry.

On top of all that, we have continued to reinforce our emotional love, and our love in actions for each other. I am less restrained about groping her discreetly in public, even to the point of cupping her ass on the escalator. She has gone braless more often, for her comfort and for my viewing pleasure. Imagine that - someone dressing up for me to stare at! And she preens when I stare. Now and then I bend her over spontaneously for a quick spank and a tweak of her nipple and then we move on to other life stuff.

As to the lifestyle, we have found our own equilibrium. We play together. We might even play with a lady if the chance arises, but I have no urge to search hard for one such lady. We don't see the need for her to date or go solo, because that's not what I prefer. She might be curious if I'm curious, but I'm not, so we leave it as that. We're still trying to find a regular playmate who can fit into our schedules. It isn't easy where we are, especially as we try to stay discreet, quiet and under the radar.

This is why too, I try not to judge others for their own choices in the lifestyle. What works for us might not work for others. What works for others hasn't worked for us, and we aren't going to risk what we have beyond what we're ready to risk. It's on our terms, or no terms at all.

We're not in a perfect place. We still get caught up in this thing called life, and take each other for granted until someone hurts sexually. I've got to work on my self esteem issues and confidence to be a good domme. She's been passive and she's trying to be more active in teasing, and thinking about sex. We're works in progress.

The lifestyle can be dangerous. In our case, we managed to get past most of the pitfalls because we continue to communicate, we push past our discomfort, and we hold hands (and sometimes, fuck) through our difficulties. Sharing her and seeing her take pleasure from someone in a way I cannot provide (well hung men, basically) is still satisfying and sexy and turns us both on like crazy.

But sometimes, we close the doors, put on her collar, and turn up the music and play until we shudder together in orgasm. And that's hot as hell too.

The lifestyle isn't for everyone.

But for us, it's just part of who we've become. We can let it go - but we can also have more of it, if circumstances allow.