The Hardcore Bachelorette Party
Hardcore bachelorette parties are not for the meek and mild. Oh, wild times chugging liquor, feeling up hot, muscular men, and drunken hook ups in the bathroom. Ah, what memories are made before that big day with the old ball and chain. Hardcore party girls do not go for the milk and cookies, they want the whole sausage and they want him hot and ready. Put up the stupid penis rings and LifeSaver shirts biddies, it’s time to whip out the thong and condom. [Read more]
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Naughty Monday night affair with S
It was the first day of October half-term and as S’s wife had gone with his children to her parents for two days I’d agreed to visit S for the evening. Being half-term was difficult for me as well, and I told him I’d have to go home first and have a meal with J and the children, but that I would come round to his house after that (we hadn’t seen each other for a month). As I sat in our bedroom putting on my make-up after I’d showered, J came in and asked what I was going to wear. I told him I hadn’t decided and that it seemed strange going out on a Monday night after I’d just had dinner with my family. J was standing behind me sliding his hands down off my shoulders and under the towel I had wrapped around me, tweaking my nipples and reminding me that I used to go out for evenings with S at this sort of time quite often when I’d first started my affair with him five years ago.
J was kissing me on the neck and ear and said “why don’t you go round there with JUST your coat on, like you came home from him that time last year!”. I was giggling and saying it was only 9 o’clock and that it was a bit risky if I bumped into any of our neighbours as I walked up the road. But he replied “It’s already dark, and no-one would ever guess you’d be out walking completely naked under your coat!”. I told him to go and look after the kids and let me finish my make-up and I’d think about it.
I was quite turned-on by his suggestion though and after I’d finished my face I pulled the coat out of the wardrobe and stood by the mirror. It is full-length and dark grey and as I topped it off with my wrap-around scarf and boots I decided that J was right, no-one would ever suspect there was nothing else underneath. I called down the stairs for J . . . when he came into the room he whistled “you look sensational” and then started kissing me in an excited embrace. I told him to keep the kids occupied and that I’d be leaving in the next few minutes and “just make sure you’re waiting up for me this time!”. He laughed and assured me he would.
I re-applied some lipstick and, feeling really quite naughty already, I unbuttoned the top of my coat and smudged a little lip gloss around each nipple. J first got me doing this, and although I had done it for S before, I didn’t think I’d done it for him for quite some time, but I was feeling really tingly and excited already . . . and I hadn’t even left the house yet !!!
I stopped at the front-room door to say my goodbyes, but the children were so engrossed in the TV that they hardly seemed to notice my departure. J winked and said “don’t be too late!”. I felt extremely aroused as I walked round the corner and up the road knowing I had nothing on beneath my coat. It was cold and I could feel the chill against my skin, but it was a really thrilling, daring, tingly feeling.
S opened his front door and I stepped quickly into his hallway, turning round to accept his kisses and a squeezing hug after he’d closed the door. He was kissing me again and again and telling me how “wonderful” I looked.
I stood back and as I started unbuttoning I said “would you like to take my coat”. He gasped as it fell open . . . I shrugged it off my shoulders and then pulled off my scarf and he was immediately embracing me and running his hands down my back telling me I was incredible and amazing. We kissed and stroked our way into his front room and onto his sofa. He’d already found the lip gloss on my nipples and was gasping and groaning and then lifting up to kiss me passionately. I lent back and asked him to take my boots off, and then it was my turn to gasp as he licked from the inside of my knee down my thigh to my pussy and then up the other leg to my other knee. He’d calmed down a bit now and, kneeling in front of me, he pulled my hips forward on the sofa and started licking and sucking at my lips telling me how much he still loved my “smoothness”.
He stood up and started pulling off his own clothes. I lent forward to stroke his willy as he pulled his shirt off over his head. S doesn’t always get hard straight away, but this time he was completely erect. I love sliding the palm of my hand up and down against the underside of my mans cock. It’s almost a sense of fulfilment, or achievement, that I have made him excited like that and S is really smooth just where his cock meets his balls and I love stroking his silky flesh there.
S knelt back down on the floor though and started his licking and sucking again. It was lovely and I was already really aroused, but I wanted to regain control again and so pushed him back gently and slid off the sofa down onto him. I was rubbing my nipples on his chest as we kissed, and felt my pussy easily slide onto his cock. I was lifting and pushing and feeling very naughty. He leant back with his arms on the floor and we continued thrusting. He was uncomfortable though and wanted to move onto the sofa, but I told him to just straighten his legs out instead of kneeling. I then pushed him down onto his back completely, pushing my hands down onto his chest and telling him “I want to watch myself fucking you like this”. I was really feeling naughty and enjoying myself wanting to be more and more provocative and outrageous. I was telling him to “look at it going in” as I lifted myself up and down on him and I was looking down between my boobs bouncing from side to side and my lips sliding up and down on him. He was moaning and rolling his head from side to side and then gasped out “I’m going to come”. I pulled up off him and then sat back down again with my pussy on his balls as first a little dribble and then a sudden burst spurt out and onto his tummy. He jerked again and again with several more little spurts, and reached over to hold his willy, but I pulled his hand away and pinned his arms back onto the floor again. “You can’t hold it!” I said, and I pushed down with tummy, sliding my boobs down over him until I was lying between his legs with my head on his tummy and his cock and balls squashed gently under my neck.
He wouldn’t let me lie there for long though, saying he felt uncomfortable on the floor and that he could smell himself and wanted to wipe it up. I joked that it didn’t smell any more spermy than usual and that I would go and find some paper towels from his kitchen. He followed me into the kitchen though and after mopping each other up we stood chatting whilst he poured some wine. He told me how wonderful it was to walk around naked in his own home and that he couldn’t remember the last time his wife had seen him without any clothing at all on. He told me how wonderful my “entrance” had been and then suggested we go upstairs.
I paused in the hallway to pick-up my coat and scarf and hang them over the bannister and then followed him up to their bedroom. We sat on the bed for awhile, sipping at the wine, and chatting about people and relationships. Our strokes and caresses began to get more and more arousing for each other though and he soon pushed me back and slid down to my pussy again. His fingers and tongue just got quicker and more arousing and he lifted me up and asked me to turn over onto my knees. I just can’t relax with anybody else like this in the way I can with S. J doesn’t really enjoy my bottom anyway (though he enjoys hearing about what S can do to me), but I just find it so erotic, and so different with S. He is slow and gentle, and his fingers and thumb and his tongue is just so arousing to feel sliding over and around and in and out of me. S got off the bed to open the drawer on his bedside cabinet and then came back to kneel on the bed behind me. I asked what his wife must think he keeps it in the drawer for and then we both laughed when he said “she never goes down my drawers”. My giggles quickly stopped though when I felt that first cold dribble of the gel as he wiped it down over me. It’s a cold, but quite tingly and exciting sensation.
S just starts so wonderfully slowly like this and then I can just feel myself pushing backwards onto him and that engulfing, gasping feeling as we start pushing against each other. I can adjust the position and our motion and I feel like I’m in complete control and then he’ll reach round to flick at my nipples or slide his fingers down to my pussy and I hear myself just exploding and crying out and pumping against him. I’m not sure how long we were like this but then I just lost myself completely and came with a huge scream and fell forwards onto my tummy. I felt him splashing himself over my bum cheeks and back and then we curled up together on our sides, him cuddling into me from behind, both of us gasping and writhing together.
When I stirred, still locked in a foetal embrace with S, I knew we’d been sleeping for some time. My phone was in my coat pocket at the foot of the stairs and I knew we wouldn’t have heard the alarm I’d set as a reminder for me that I had to be going home. S got up to check the time and returned to the bed to say it had only just gone midnight. I told him I did really have to get up as we’d only fall asleep again if we just stayed lying there. We talked for a little longer and then made our way back down the stairs. S brought my boots from the front room and then dressed to walk me home, as I “dressed” myself in my coat and scarf.
It’s only a few minutes walk back to our house, and it certainly felt colder under my coat now than I had felt earlier. We stopped for a quick kiss at my gate, and S told me how “fantastic” it had been. We agreed to arrange a hotel as soon as we could and I thanked him for walking me home.
J was sitting naked in the armchair when I walked into our front room. “How was it?” he asked with that expectant grin he always has when I’ve been out with S. I’d already unbuttoned my coat in the hallway and opened it wide, “apparently I was fucking fantastic” I said. J walked across and unwrapped my scarf and pushed me down onto the sofa. “But how was it for you?” he asked as he knelt down on the floor in front of me. “Yes, it was nice” I replied. I guided his head down to my pussy and then lay back a bit more on the sofa. J lifted up and said “you’ve been bumming haven’t you?” I pulled him up onto the sofa with me and said “Yes, but don’t you want to hear how I walked into his hallway first?” . . .
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Sexual Power For Women – Chapter 2
Georgeann Cross finished writing Sexual Power for Women in 1997. No one would publish it. The reasons are left to the reader’s speculation. A few copies on loose-leaf paper have been in circulation ever since, passing from woman to woman. Now, the Scandalous Reader presents this ground breaking work on the art of sensual female domination in weekly chapters. [Read more]
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The Blended Orgasm
Okay, you’ve heard of a clitoral orgasm and you’ve heard of the G-spot kind — both damn good in their own right. Now imagine if you blended the two types for one phenomenal fireworks-like finale.
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Her Story – First Time Cheaters
Three women tell three torrid tales of discovering how one man isn’t enough. The Scandalous Reader reveals the deep secrets they won’t even tell their best friends! [Read more]
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Sex With A Ghost Can Be Quite Spirited
In the 1981 horror movie “The Entity,” Barbara Hershey’s character, Carla Moran, is repeatedly assaulted by a sex-hungry ghost that invades her Los Angeles home and plunges her into a nightmarish world full of paranormal hanky-panky.
At the time of its release, the movie was banned for its overly sensational sexual aspects, which included a scene with Hershey’s breasts pulsating rhythmically, as if being fondled by unseen spectral hands.
Compared to alleged real-life sexual encounters with ghosts, however, “The Entity” is pretty tame. [Read more]
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Happy Halloween! Hot Sex Spells!
It’s been said there’s a little witch in every woman. With Halloween upon us, Scandalouswomen wants to help you channel your inner sorceress with some sexy scandalous love and lust spells that could bring you new love or some really hot sex with the man or men of your choosing. Oh, and happy Halloween, witch! [Read more]
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Sexual Power For Women – Chapter 1
Georgeann Cross finished writing Sexual Power for Women in 1997. No one would publish it. The reasons are left to the reader’s speculation. A few copies on loose-leaf paper have been in circulation ever since, passing from woman to woman. Now, the Scandalous Reader presents this ground breaking work on the art of sensual female domination in weekly chapters.
It was early Saturday afternoon and Patrick, my lover of two months, had just arrived in my apartment. I led him to the kitchen and we chatted while I finished putting away the dishes, then he backed me up to the counter and pressed against me as we kissed. He was horny as I had hoped, but I wanted to make doubly sure. I pulled away, opened the refrigerator, and got out a bar of Swiss dark chocolate. Positioning my behind against the counter again, I broke the end of the bar into fragments and opened the wrapper. [Read more]
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Lunch with M
Met with M for lunch yesterday. He’d been desperate for us to have an evening together this week but it was the wrong time for me so I told him he’d have to make do with lunch.
We chatted more about work and all the changes happening more than anything else. But he kept commenting on my boots . . . I’d coincidentally worn the boots that he really likes (it wasn’t an intentional thing, I wear them to work quite regularly). He kept saying how aroused he was as we talked on, and how he was becoming more and more aroused . . . eventually reaching across and stroking my hand and suggesting we take the rest of the afternoon off and find a room somewhere.
It was very flattering and quite funny (though he was deadly serious), but I told him it was just totally impractical and impossible. He pleaded that I see him next week then “for a sleep-over”, but I’ve already arranged to visit S . . . it’s half-term and his wife takes his children away for two days to stay with her parents. We haven’t seen each other for quite some time and I’m quite looking forward to it actually.
Of course, I can’t tell M the reason I can’t see him next week but I finished our lunch with the promise that I’d see what I could arrange for the following week.
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The Secret Lives of Wives
When groups of women get together, especially if they’re mothers and have been married for more than six or seven years, and especially if there’s alcohol involved, the conversation is usually the same. They talk about the kids and work—how stressed they are, how busy and bone tired. They gripe about their husbands and, if they’re being perfectly honest and the wine kicks in, they talk about the disappointments in their marriages. Not long ago, over lunch in Los Angeles, this conversation took a surprising turn, when Erin, who is in her early 40s and has been married for more than a decade, spilled it. She was seeing someone else. Actually, more than one person. It started with an old friend, whom she began meeting every several months for long dinners and some heavy petting. Then she began giving herself permission to flirt with, kiss—well, actually, make out with—men she met on business trips. She understands it’s a “Clintonian” distinction, but she won’t have sex with anyone except her husband, whom she loves. But she also loves the unexpected thrill of meeting someone new. “Do you remember?” She pauses. “I don’t know how long you’ve been married, but do you remember the kiss that would just launch a thousand kisses?”
Erin started seeing other men when she went back to work after her youngest child entered preschool. All of a sudden she was out there. Wearing great clothes, meeting new people, alive for the first time in years to the idea that she was interesting beyond her contributions at PTA meetings. Veronica, on the other hand, fell in love with a man who was not her husband while she was safely at home in the Dallas suburbs looking after her two children. Hers is the more familiar story: isolated and lonely, married to an airline pilot, Veronica, now 35, took up with a wealthy businessman she met at a Dallas nightclub. Her lover gave her everything her husband didn’t: compliments, Tiffany jewelry, flowers and love notes. It was, in fact, the flowers that did her in. Veronica’s lover sent a bouquet to her home one afternoon, her husband answered the door and, in one made-for-Hollywood moment, the marriage was over. Now remarried (to a new man), Veronica says she and her friends half-jokingly talk about starting a Web site for married women who want to date. “I think there might be a market in it,” she says. There is. Wives who want extramarital sex—or are just dreaming about it—can find what they seek on Yahoo!, MSN or AOL.
Popular culture has always been full of unfaithful wives, but even today’s fictional cheaters share something that sets them apart from the tragic Anna Karenina or the calculating Mrs. Robinson. Their actions may cause their lives to unravel, but the new philanderers aren’t victims. When, on the HBO series “The Sopranos,” Carmela finally took a lover after putting up with her mob-boss husband’s extracurricular antics for years, audiences cheered. (Her lover was a cad in the end, but the dalliance gave Carmela a secret source of strength.) Sarah, the heroine of this year’s best-selling novel “Little Children,” falls in love with a handsome stay-at-home dad she meets at the playground; the affair doesn’t last, but it gives her the impetus she needs to leave her husband, a weaselly man with a fetish for the underpants of a swinger he met online. And with her role in the 2002 movie “Unfaithful,” Diane Lane created an iconic new image of a sexually adventurous wife. Beautiful and well dressed, Connie Sumner has what looks like a perfect life, and she fools around not because she’s miserable but simply because she can (a decision that soon makes her life a lot less perfect).
“Women always say ‘thank you’ for that role, and at first I wasn’t sure how to take that,” says Lane, who adds that the character was capable of far more denial than she could ever be. “I mean, she was cheating and lying. Then I realized it was because she wasn’t a victim. She made a choice to have an affair. It’s not something you often see.”
Where do married women find their boyfriends? At work, mostly. Nearly 60 percent of American women work outside the home, up from about 40 percent in 1964. Quite simply, women intersect with more people during the day than they used to. They go to more meetings, take more business trips and, presumably, participate more in flirtatious water-cooler chatter. If infidelity is an odds game, then the odds are better now than they used to be that a woman will accidentally bump into someone during the workday who, at least momentarily, interests her more than her husband does. There’s a more subtle point embedded in here as well: women and men bring their best selves to work, leaving their bad behavior and marital resentments at home with their dirty sweatpants. At work, “we dress nicely. We think before we speak. We’re poised,” says Elana Katz, a therapist in private practice and a divorce mediator at the Ackerman Institute for the Family in New York City. “And many people spend more time out in the world than with their families. I think sometimes people have the idea that [an affair] will protect the marriage.” They get a self-esteem boost during work hours and don’t rock the boat at home. “In some paradoxical sense this may be a respite, a little break from the marriage.”
“I wasn’t out there looking for someone else,” says Jodie, 34, a marketing professional in Texas and mother of two. (NEWSWEEK talked at length to more than a dozen women who cheated, and none of them wanted her real name used.) Her continuing affair with a co-worker started innocently enough. She liked his company. “We would go to lunch together and gradually it started feeling like we were dating.” At Christmas, Jodie asked her husband of 10 years to join her at the office party, and when he declined, the co-worker stepped in. “We just had so much fun together and we laughed together and it just grew and grew and grew until … he kissed me. And I loved it.”
It’s not just opportunity that fuels the impulse to be unfaithful; it’s money and power as well. American women are better educated than they’ve ever been. A quarter of them earn more money than their husbands. A paycheck and a 401(k) don’t guarantee that a woman will stray, but if she does, they minimize the fallout both for her and for her children. The feminist Gloria Steinem once said, “Most women are one man away from welfare,” but she recently amplified her views to NEWSWEEK: “Being able to support oneself allows one to choose a marriage out of love and not just economic dependence. It also allows one to risk that marriage.” In other words, as women grow more powerful, they’re more likely to feel, as men traditionally have, that they deserve a little bit of nooky at the end (or in the middle) of a long, busy day.
And like their fathers before them, these powerful women are learning to savor the attentions of a companion who is physically attractive but not as rich, successful—or as old—as they are. In his practice in Palo Alto, Calif., family therapist Marty Klein sees a rise in sexual activity between middle-aged women and younger men. “Forty-year-old women have more of a sense of entitlement to their sexuality than they did before the ‘Hite Report,’ the feminist movement and ‘Sex and the City’,” he says. A story currently circulating in Manhattan underscores his point. It seems that a group of 6-year-old girls from an elite private school were at a birthday party, and the conversation turned to their mommies’ trainers. As the proud mothers listened nearby, one youngster piped up: “My mommy has a trainer, and every time he comes over, they take a nap.” The wicked laughter this story elicits illustrates at least what is dreamed of, if not actually consummated.
The road to infidelity is paved with unmet expectations about sex, love and marriage. A woman who is 40 today grew up during the permissive 1970s and went to college when the dangers of AIDS were just beginning to dawn. She was sexually experienced before she was married and waited five years longer than her mother to settle down. She lives in a culture that constantly flaunts the possibility of great sex and fitness well after menopause. “Great Lovers Are Made, Not Born!” read the ads for sex videos in her favorite magazines; “What if the only night sweats you had came from a good workout?” ask the ads for estrogen therapy.
At the same time, she’s so busy she feels constantly out of breath. If she’s a professional, she’s working more hours than her counterpart of 20 years ago—and trying to rush home in time to give the baby a bath. If she’s a stay-at-home mom, she’s driving the kids to more classes, more games, more playdates than her mother did, not to mention trying to live up to society’s demands of perfect-momhood: Buy organic! Be supportive, not permissive! Lose five pounds! Her husband isn’t a bad guy, but he’s busier than ever, too, working harder just to stay afloat. And (this is practically unmentionable) therapists say they’re seeing more cases of depressed male libido. It turns out he’s too tired and stressed to have sex. An affair is a logical outcome of this scenario, therapists say: women think they should be having great sex and romantic dates decades into their marriage, and at the same time, they’re pragmatic enough to see how impossible that is. Couples begin to live parallel lives, instead of intersecting ones, and that’s when the loneliness and resentment set in.
Marisol can’t remember the last time her husband paid her a compliment. That’s why the 39-year-old grandmother, who was pregnant and married at 15, looks forward to meeting with her boyfriend of five years during lunch breaks and after work. “There is so much passion between us,” she says. “He tells me my skin is soft and that my hair smells good. I know it sounds stupid, but that stuff matters. It makes me feel sexy again.”
Ironically, the realities of the overprogrammed life make it easier, not harder, to fool around. When days are planned to the minute, it’s a cinch to pencil in a midday tryst—and remember to wear the lace-edged underwear—at least compared with trying to stay awake and in the mood through “Law & Order.” And as any guileless teenager knows, nothing obscures your whereabouts better than an Internet connection and a reliable cell phone. Amanda’s husband has no idea she has six e-mail addresses, in addition to an account specifically for messages from her boyfriend Ron. Amanda, a customer-service rep in L.A., uses e-mail to flirt with Ron, then turns to her instant messenger or cell phone when it comes to setting up a rendezvous. “Text messaging is safer than e-mailing,” says Amanda, 36, who’s been married for eight years. What would she do without her mobile or computer? “No cell phone? I can’t even imagine.”
Along with its 4 million porn sites, the Internet has exploded with sites specifically for people who want to cheat on their spouses—sites like “Married and Flirting” at Yahoo, “a chat room dedicated to those who are married but curious, bored or both!!” These sites contain all the predictable pornographic overtures, but also such poignant notes as this: “Ok, I know it is late almost 11:30 my time and I am still up on this pitiful Friday night. Hubby STILL at work.”
Online romances have a special appeal for married women. For one thing, you don’t have to leave the house. “You can come home from work, be exhausted, take a shower, have wet, dripping hair, have something fast to eat and then, if you’re feeling lonely, you can go on the Internet,” says Rona Subotnik, a marriage and family therapist in Palm Desert, Calif. On the Web, women can browse and flirt without being explicit about their intentions—if they even know what their intentions are. Clicking past porn, women prefer to visit sites that dovetail with their interests, such as chess, bridge or knitting, explains Peggy Vaughan, author of “The Monogamy Myth” and host of dearpeggy.com, a Web site for people with unfaithful spouses. “They find somebody else who seems to think like they do, and then they gradually move from that to an instant message, and then they wake up one day and they cannot believe it happened to them,” says Vaughan. Last year Vaughan did a survey of a thousand people who visited her Web site, and 70 percent of the respondents were women. Her results, though not scientific, are remarkable: 79 percent said they were not looking for love online. More than half said they met their online lover in person, and about half said the relationship culminated in sex. Sixty percent said their spouses had no idea.
John LaSage was shocked to come home one day and find his wife of 24 years had disappeared. No note, no phone call, nothing. He’d bought her a computer four months previously, he says, and he knew something was wrong: she’d stay up until 3 or 4 a.m., browsing online. She told him she was doing research for a romance novel she was writing, he says, and after her disappearance, he hacked into the computer to investigate. “She had set up a chat room that was called … gosh … ‘Smooth Legs.’ And so guys would come in there and flirt with her. I have transcripts. I can’t tell you how excruciating it was to read the e-mails from people supposedly speaking with my wife, but she wasn’t talking like my wife. That was just weird.” Two weeks later he discovered she had left the country, he says. “I wasn’t the perfect husband. I would have done a lot of things differently, but I never got the chance,” says LaSage, who has since founded an online support group for people with spouses who stray.
Originally from Newsweek
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