Peter G Johnson

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About Peter G Johnson
Peter G Johnson has been an avid reader and writer of Hotwife and Cuckold erotica for more years than he cares to remember. He lives and works in the UK but has travelled and lived in many parts of the world. Taking inspiration from such great authors as Matthew Lee, Max Sebastian, Kenny Wright and many authors. He loves both the sexuality and exploration of angst and human emotions that these types of stories allow. Some stories ending with 'Happily Ever After' finales. Others ending with the inevitable consequences when couples take risks with their love and love lives. Peter is a family man whose other loves include General and Military History. Aside from Erotica his favorite authors include Douglas Adams, AJP Taylor and Dostoevsky.
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Titles By Peter G Johnson
We’d played around with bedroom games and shared fantasies like so many other married couples. We’d had the good sense to know the dividing line between fantasy and reality, getting close to the edge before finally stepping back.
But here we were less than two weeks after we’d abandoned all that prudence and normality and I hardly recognized the rapidly changing contours of our marriage.
Two weeks ago, Jess had been adamant that fantasies and reality were like oil and water and should never be allowed to mix. Then the seductive vacation vibes of Jamaica and a place where no one knew us had persuaded both of us that a little harmless playing held no dangers.
But of course, who has an entrée and then refuses a main course? One night of dipping our toes had led to a whole week of increasingly outrageous sexual adventures. Plenty of ups and downs, but at least we’d emerged intact, both with a new appreciation for the excitement, worries and jealousies of the hot wife lifestyle. Both happy that we’d ticked that particular item off on our bucket list. Both happy to settle back into the safer and more comfortable world back home in Baltimore.
At least that had been the plan. A plan that survived less than a week before a guy we’d considered playing with contacted Jess again, with an offer that what we’d started in Jamaica we could keep on going with back in Baltimore.
Soul searching, heartache and plenty of indecision. We’d eventually met up with him just for a one-time taster, and here we now were facing all kinds of decisions about our future. Our resolution to limit playing to distant locations blown clean out of the water. Our resolution that meeting him was a one-time thing now under severe strain.
Like many couples, Jess and I had dabbled with the idea of introducing another man into our marriage.
But after several meetings with a prospective candidate, we’d chickened out. Afraid that the effects of playing like this might leach out into our real lives with unwelcome consequences.
We’d thought that was the end of it. But then, during a second honeymoon trip to Jamaica, a freakish injury to my ankle had left Jess in need of entertainment. Thankfully, a group of vacationing young students was only too happy to let her tag along. More than one of the young guys taking quite a shine to my beautiful blonde wife, presenting us with an opportunity to finally make our fantasies come true. Make them come true with people we’d never see again.
But after Jess’s first time playing outside our marriage, things didn’t quite go as planned.
Forcing Jess and me to face up to decisions that might have major implications for the rest of our vacation, and quite possibly for life afterwards.
Nothing wrong there, anything to spice things up is the rule even to the happiest of couples after so many years together.
It started as an innocent and fun conversation about what we would and wouldn’t do. Whether we’d do some of the things we read about, that we knew other adventurous couples did in other cities all over the States. Each step we took felt small, telling ourselves we were in control.
But looking back now, looking back separately and looking back together sometimes, we both know how significant those early decisions were.
But they were good friends, and so when Charlotte and Callan told us about the excitement and spice swinging had added to their own marriage, Jill and I listened and questioned.
We thought we were smart, thought we were in control, promising ourselves that we were just peeking into this crazy new lifestyle – more prurient intrigue than any serious intention of joining their ranks. But once you entertain an idea like this, once you open the box and peek inside, it’s hard not to turn the next page. To try the next little baby step, until one step after another has led you to the point where the genie’s out of the bottle and events control you rather than the other way round.
And before we knew what was happening, what had started as idle curiosity was re-mapping our marriage and our lives, leading to consequences that would change us forever.
In the end our marriage experienced a near death experience, causing Jill and I to fight like hell to slowly put our marriage back together – piece by piece, talk by talk. Slowly rebuilding trust as Jill learned to cope with the end of the sex and emotional closeness she’d enjoyed with her boss.
After the harsh lessons of our dabbling in The Lifestyle, Jill and I were determined to turn the clock back and re-establish our old and safe ways of living and loving. Looking forward to enjoying a quieter summer.
But despite having the best of intentions, that Spring and Summer showed us that life still had plenty of surprises for us. That once you’ve eaten of the tree of temptation, life will carry on offering you new and dangerous opportunities. Opportunities that, even after a near death experience, might prove too tempting to resist.
That decision, that Friday night proved to be the ultimate ‘butterfly flaps its wings, and a storm takes root half a world away’ moment.
By the end of that evening our previously monogamous marriage had become something in the past. As a dreadlocked young co-worker of my wife danced with and then seduced my wife. All with my agreement as he skillfully manipulated her naïve husband.
That was two months ago and since then our marriage has been a veritable rollercoaster ride. Tara and myself, equally confused and changing our minds by the day, took it in turns to one day be enthusiastic, to one day try and slam on the brakes.
But now I felt we’d found something that worked for both of us. Things had been going so smoothly, but what do they say. ‘Pride cometh before a fall.’
~
The Final Instalment of the Living for the Day Trilogy
In a matter of just a few months we’d moved from dipping our toes in the swinging, hotwife lifestyle to a state where all aspects of our life seemed interwoven into the fabric of this all-powerful sexual experience.
Jill’s job had gone from normal and staid to being the manager of a small set of strip clubs – now out all hours of the night, as was inevitable with such a job.
Jill’s trying out of just one new man had spun into something way different. Into a situation where I was fast losing track of the names of the different suitors for her charms.
And to cap it all, in the name of fairness, we’d agreed that ‘what was sauce for the goose was sauce for the gander’. If Jill was allowed to play, then why shouldn’t I? The love interests in my own life weren’t as many and varied as my wife’s. But nonetheless, for a guy so used to emotional and physical monogamy, they were still as disorienting as they were pleasurable.
Faced with all these changes, I often wondered what the end point for Jill and me would be. Often wondered whether we’d bitten off more than we could chew. Whether we’d manage to hold our love and marriage together against the various people and pleasures that now dominated so much of our lives.
I really wondered what the next few months held for us.
We loved each other dearly, had a good and satisfying love life, the biggest cloud on the horizon our parent’s gentle nagging about starting a family.
Journeying home from visiting friends, we made a chance decision to visit our old Alma Mater and see if our favorite student bar had changed much in the decade since we’d left.
This chance decision combined with what I thought was a harmless prank, as I called in a debt to get my lovely wife to dress to impress for the horny young students.
But what do they say? A march of a thousand miles starts with a single step. I’d always enjoyed other guys admiring my wife’s sexy body, and I’d even had one or two secret daydreams of things going further. But there was no way on earth either of us could know how this little game of dress up would have such far reaching consequences for our marriage.
Ten years later, our lives and our marriage had been dominated by happiness and blessings, the most significant of which were our twin five-year-old daughters, Maria and Marla. Even at this early stage, everyone said they had their mother’s good looks, the same sultry Italian genes that had helped win my heart. Said that someday they’d break boys’ hearts.
But the early days of 2018 brought a rare cloud of sadness and trauma to our little piece of the Bronx. The kid sister of Tara’s best friend, a girl who’d lived in our studio annex for a month and who we knew well, had died in a freakish car accident. Her and her three friends all being buried nearby in a week that left the community with a huge hole in its heart.
As the weeks and months passed, I became desperate to find a way to pull Tara and her best friend Leah out of their shared funk. A chance discussion about my wife’s new office mates and their Friday night outings leading to a raucous night of fun which was just what the doctor ordered.
But what neither Tara nor I knew was how that single night of fun would lead to a decision point that could have a major impact on a marriage, a marriage that had been happy and conventional until that fateful night.
Married and in our forties, younger daughter of to college, my teacher wife Claire and I were a walking cliché. Empty nesters writ large. We’d always had a very happy but somewhat vanilla and conventional love-life – I guess in keeping with the conservative upbringing both Claire and I had received.
To spice things up in the bedroom, Claire and I had taken to looking at on-line adult websites – including those with ‘adult’ movies and erotic stories. As we explored, Claire was wide-eyed at the size of some of the guy’s cocks that were shown, and she developed a particular fascination for some of the well-hung black studs who were shown on these websites.
It’s fair to say that it was Claire who had the first and the stronger interest in this whole well-endowed, interracial sex theme. I did find the movies and pictures of some pretty woman taking a huge black cock arousing – but Claire’s interest was definitely stronger!
I began to whisper in Claire’s ear erotic stories made up about the kinds of scenes we’d watched. “Neil honey … you know when you make up those stories in bed … well … I was just wondering ... Do you ever really think of what it would be like watching me going with another guy ….”
And what was said – couldn’t be unsaid.
Claire’s question took us down a path that was to lead to Ecstasy and Agony, and which would both enrich and test our marriage in ways neither of us could ever have imagined.
A chance encounter with a couple of young black admirers at a club had turned into a fun night for her, allowing her and her best friend Leah to relive their teenage years diving in and out of the hip hop and rap scene of New York’s finest.
A chance encounter that would have gone no further than a bit of harmless fun and flirting except for a strange, unmapped, previously unknown set of feelings I’d discovered within myself. Feelings which my wife’s young dance partner Leroy must have spotted as he maneuvered flirting and a single soulful kiss into me inviting him to fuck Tara in our marriage bed, and then stay the rest of the weekend while I snuck our twin daughters out the house to their grandparents.
Tara and I ‘slipped’ a second time, a supposedly platonic dinner invite to Leroy leading to a second hot session of sex for Tara, a second cacophony of voyeuristic thrills for yours truly.
Both of us were now as confused as hell. My big brother and father confessor figure Joel advising caution, my wife’s best friend Leah understanding but also pointing out to Tara that Leroy was the perfect lover for her. Young, sharing her pre-motherhood passion for hip hop and rap, all the convenience of working in the same building and, best of all, blessed with a huge cock.
To say that Tara and I were undecided about which direction to jump would be the understatement of the year. Neither of us wanting to risk any kind of damage to our happy little family unit. Maybe it was best we tried to close the lid on the Pandora’s box of pleasures that had chanced into our lives.
Whichever way we jumped, they’d be bear traps and snares a plenty – hardly the outcome we’d been trying for when I’d sent Tara and Leah out dancing to put a little happiness back into their lives. I guess sometimes you can have a little too much of a good thing.
And now, one way or the other, it felt like we were in for a hard few weeks of either turning the clock back or dealing with a whole new set of challenges. The joys of married life! The joys of choice, like a giant game of ‘Truth or Dare’, only with consequences that would still be there in the morning.
At the time I’d thought that the year and a half after my coronary event were bad enough. Constant assessment, appointments, prodding and poking, and at the end of it all still no nearer to a full and normal love life.
But these last six months had made that earlier time feel like a halcyon period on the nursery slopes of life. As Sue and I had tiptoed gingerly into the world of a hotwife lifestyle. Tiptoeing at first, step by careful step, until we’d learned a harsh lesson of life. Momentum begats momentum, step begats step, until before we realized it we were rushing headlong down the ski slope hoping like hell we’d stay upright and land on our feet not on our necks or other vulnerable parts.
We’d gone from a couple of exploratory dates with Alan, Sue’s workplace admirer who might become my surrogate, into a full-on affair. The two of them fucking away until the early hours twice weekly as Sue moaned and screamed as she got used to his ridiculously large cock and energetic lovemaking.
Looking back now, it seemed a rushed and hurried decision when on a whim I went along with their plan to bring things out of the shadows into the full-on-glare of letting the world in on our little secret. Part of me felt happy, but it sure complicated things.
And now to cap it all, a renowned doctor from England was starting to make progress, starting to give me hope for a return to normal marital relations. The doctor’s mind-games aided and abetted by a sexy little Thai nurse who’d worked miracles with my non-functioning man friend.
Great news? Surely yes, but I was going up the wall with worry, unable to contact Sue, away with lover boy Alan and his young daughter. Out of reach and playing happy families, leaving cryptic messages that were sending me over the edge.
‘Hi Honey, if you can’t get through it’s because the three of us are out hiking, likely out of coverage. Little Phoebe’s having a ball. Almost as much fun as you and Rosa ... But seriously, really pleased everything went so well. Looking forward to talking about what it all means for the future. I’m sure this is going to be an Independence Day weekend we all remember for many years to come. Love you, always, S x’
I just had to hope and pray my fears were misplaced and that the rest of this Independence Day weekend wasn’t as fraught. That I still had a wife and a marriage to enjoy the progress made by Dr Ann and nurse Rosa.
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