Partner swapping & swinging Series

In Hotwife Monologue John Carter makes love with his wife Murielle. She instructs him how to eat her according to the rules of art. Leading him and her to an orgasm, she tells a daring story. A story that sounds familiar to him. And just when John thinks that everything is not so kinky as it sounds, the astonishing climax follows. What seemed to be to bold to fantasize about turns out to be true. 

Murielle has made a podcast for her husband John. He must listen to it while he’s at work. She tells how Jean Claude came to visit her this morning. She tells why Jean Claude wanted to tie her up. And why Murielle is still tied up at the end of the day. And why John first has to listen to the podcast before releasing his wife, at home.

In Hotwife Chewing Gum, John is introduced to the taste of green-tea-with-ginger chewing gum. It’s green in color and that’s why John thought it was peppermint. But the peppery taste doesn't come from peppermint, his wife Murielle says. After which she tells him how she got the chewing gum.

Hotwife Monologues : Part 3. Murielle tells about the day she and her husband John became friends with Steve. It was on holiday, in Spain. “Steve contacted you in the bar of our hotel,” Murielle says. "Do you remember John? You and Steve became best friends, but actually I had already met him the day before, you didn’t know that, only Steve and I knew." While her husband John spoils her, Murielle confesses an exciting adventure. An adventure that started innocently but ended grotesquely. "Steve offered to massage me while you were sleeping in our hotel, so … be honest John ..., who would say no to an ordinary, delightful shoulder massage?" Hotwife Cheating is a new story in the Hotwife Monologues series.

Hotwife Monologue Part 2 : "You know I cheated on you with George, that evening. I already confessed that. You were angry and jealous. Two times. Because I cheated on you. And because George wanted to be my lawyer if it came to a divorce. George defended us when we had that problem with our neighbors. The neighbours refused to pay for the damage they caused when they built that annex to their house. You found us a great lawyer who defended our case with great success. You thought you were entitled to George. But I had him. Twice. What do you want? I know, I realize that you think my confession is not a confession at all, because you think you already know the whole story. But you don’t know the whole story. The whole story is ... more interesting. I want to tell you the whole truth." In Hotwife Confession John Carter is carefully listening while his wife Murielle tells a story. It is a daring story that turns out to be a confession. While telling the truth about things that happened in the past, she gives a whole new meaning to the concept of “being loyal to your other half”. Look out for our other Hotwife Monologues. Enjoy!

That day in June you worked with the chainsaw, to separate the mighty tree trunk from its roots and branches and cut it into manageable pieces. The chainsaw made quite a noise, didn't it John? You didn't hear the bell.  Of course not.  The doorbell rang. Unbelievable noisy it was. It was Jean Claude, my lover who looks like the Marlboro man in the tv-commercials. Not to be confused with his cousin Jean Paul, who looks like the coca cola guy. I don't know what I fancy the most, Marlboro or Coca-Cola, but I do like them both. You know that. You remember Jean Claude? He’s the one who chews green-tea-with-gember gum and has no coffee-machine at home. You know everything about that chewing gum, don't you, John? He’s the one who comes by and drinks coffee with me, here, in our kitchen, John! You'll never forget him. Not even when we celebrate our golden anniversary. Me neither. Because of the chewing gum history in the first place, but now also because of the double tree disaster. Listen! ‘Dirty talk Murielle’ knows how to excite her husband. “You’re the best,” we heard John saying.

I walked away from him. I knew he was watching the rolling of my hips, the shape of the pink dress that followed the curve of my body.  Oh, how sexy I felt, John, I felt incredibly sexy. Jean Paul’s eyes followed my swaying butt, my rocking hips, as I walked through the Danish tavern. A waiter looked at my breasts, pushed up by my bra and dress. And I almost flew, I floated up the stairs, the wide wooden stairs of the Danish tavern, which when you descend them, give you the feeling to be a movie star, and when you ascend them they create great expectations. A new Audiobook in the Hotwife Monologue Series. "It's awesome" reader Mike F. let us know.

"Hello?" I said. "Where are you?" he asked. He is not modest. He is not discrete. He is quite possessive ... Jean Paul. Where are you? What are you doing over there? He is not my husband, but sometimes he pretends to be my man. Not at all like you, John, you are my tolerant, open-minded, liberal spouse. Jean Paul likes his women to obey him. "I have lunch on the roof terrace, at Chez Paulette," I said. "Jesus, lunch ... it's already after two o'clock." "I'm free," I said. He thought that was decadent. He found that restaurant too expensive. Fortunately, I married you and not him, John. He is more made to ... play with. Listen! "There's a man peeking at me," I told Jean Paul. All of a sudden. 'What? Where?” he said. "A man who sits opposite to me. He peeks between my legs. " "Between your legs?" 'Yes! Or at my tits. Or at the lamp that hangs above my head, I don't know, he's wearing sunglasses. What do you men look at when you meet a woman? " "Is your face in his direction?" Jean Paul asked. "Yes, my face, my bosom, my legs, it's all on the same side with me." I was kidding, but he wasn't smiling. He was too excited, angry, jealous, and curious. His breathing changed. His voice became deeper, hoarse, unsteady. I bet his heart beat had gone up. I bet he had a boner. Just like you have now, John. "What are you wearing?" he asked. "A white shirt with buttons ..." "Below that?" he asked nervously. "A skirt." "Which skirt?" "My denim skirt." "Goddamn," he said. "Are you wearing panties?" 'No!' Silence on the other side of the line. "Hello?" I said. "Murielle ... Jesus … Fuck." he cursed. "I am wearing panties," I said, "I was teasing you." A new story in the Hotwife Monologue Series.

Murielle starts one of her famous monologues. Her lover breaks the expensive bottle of gin her husband got from his mother for his birthday. The gin forms a puddle on the ground. That means: cleaning. Jean Claude deserves a little spanking. But he is a man-man who does not just let that go over his head. What he certainly doesn't accept is that his mistress's husband tells him what to do. Husband John has been passed out for a while. It's not immediately clear why he did. A lot happened during his unconsciousness, or was it just before or just after? In any case, there was a lot going on and to make matters worse, he himself appears to be involved in the events that are enveloped in a dark haze until the end of the story. A mysterious, exciting and surprising story. Forms a wholesome with the other monologues of Murielle.

Murielle gets a taste of her own medicine. When she visits her lover Jean Claude, he appears to have an appointment with his job broker. Michelle is her name. She looks like Rachel Green when she worked at Bloomingdale's. Good looking and stylish. Not only is she openly flirting with Jean Claude, she convinces him to improve his resume with her. The computer is in the guest room. When the mediator is gone, Murielle finds out what they were up to, because Jean Claude does exactly the same to her.

Murielle gets a voucher from her husband John for their wedding anniversary. It's a Two Nights Experience in a hotel in Cadzand (the Netherlands). She goes with her best friend Anne tasting the best dishes from the Netherlands, in a Japanese bar. With a glass of sake it's not only fun, it turns into an unparalleled experience. ''Umami,'' I said when I tasted her. ''Oh yeah, Murielle, yeah. I want to come, do you want to come together? '' ''Yeaaah,'' I shouted. ''We don't need a man, Murielle, you know that.'' ''Mmmmm yeah.'' ''We don't need Jean Claude.'' ''Noooooo.'' O John. I was so hot I was sure I didn't need a man. ''I want to 96 with you?'' She said. ''Do you know about that?'' ''Soixante neuf?'' ''No, 96. First the nine, then the six.'' ''Show me!''

What a busy morning. John. After you left for work, it was so busy. The doorbell, the telephone, the bell again, text message, chat conversation, messages ... and moreover... what happened in between ... It was kind of… well, complicated. So… you had left. For work. My diligent little guy. I showered. I knew the workers were coming to build the new sauna cabin, so instead of reading the newspaper first, over a cup of coffee, I took a shower. I had plenty of time… I thought. Suddenly the bell rang. It was only nine o'clock. How is that possible? I wondered. The carpenters wouldn't come until ten. It was only nine. After showering I put on my bathrobe. I was laying down on the bed. I love to let myself get dry that way. Lazy. Nice. Hmmmm. But I heard the bell. Loud and long. Whoever rang the bell might have been there for a while. I may not have heard the bell when the water was running. Now the unexpected visitor kept holding the button, it seemed. As if he was angry that it took so long. I was wearing my bathrobe, nothing underneath. "Wait a minute," I called from the top of the stairs. "I'll be right there."

Orlando walked around blankly, not realizing what had happened to him, why his butt was wet and his lover had started walking. "That wasn't nice of her," I said to Jean Paul. "It's this or killing eight dog pups." "Why killing them?" "Nobody wants a cross between a German shepherd and a boxer." Maybe that was true. How do dog puppies be killed, I wondered. Auch. It was not likable that utter dog happiness was disrupted that brutal way, but I had to admit: a cross between a boxer and a sheepdog? What is that? "What if they cross you and me?" Jean Paul asked, wanting my attention back. "Hmmmmm." I thought about that. With his beautiful brown puppy eyes. His jet black hair is like an Italian's. His muscled torso as if it were he who mowed all the grass on the huge farm pasture with a scythe in the summer and turned it several times daily with a fork until it became hay. "I don't know about my half, but your half is undoubtedly wonderfully beautiful," I said. He kissed me, full on the lips, forceful, gooey. "You make beautiful children," I said.

We walked in and out the little side streets of the Ramblas. We bought nice lingerie in a well known boutique. What's the name again? The name is on the paper shopping bags. I had three shopping bags full. Oh yeah. The shop is called “Undiz”. Beautiful lingerie. Very sexy. I bought two sets for Anne. She would pay them back to me later. It was our last night, she had no money left to spend. I had. I bought myself another lingerie set. A handful of panties and a sexy negligee. You know what that is, a "negligé", John? Negligé is French for “negligible”. It means "nothing", such a negligee: it is a piece of fabric that hardly covers anything, and what it covers is completely transparent. So I bought it. A very expensive little thing. Sexy. I'll show you sometime. Later. Okay? Back to Barcelona. After shopping we ate tapas in “La Alcoba Azul”. A cozy bar in the Gothic quarter of Barcelona. The Barri Gòtic in Barcelona. So romantic. All little streets to get lost in at night, with corners and portals for making love. O John. Murielle spent too much money during her citytrip to Barcelona, while the last night was yet to come.

Hi John? It's me ... your wife on the line. I'm fine. And you? Listen… you must have been here, John. Now we finally had another chance to have a nice party ... and you're not coming? Crazy. It wasn't dangerous at all. It was exciting, a lockdown party is always exciting. But it was well organized too. We could see the police coming from afar, if someone would have called them. We were so well hidden. John. How wonderful it felt, after all those months of lockdown. Finally a party. A new Charlie Hedo Audiobook.