Recently an older hotwife, Nancy Fairchild, sent in this lovely birthday story for us to publish. She is a great writer, a sexy ex-pat, and a kindred spirit. You can find her work on Medium.com. The photos are hers and she asked us to post them.

By Nancy Fairchild

nancy.fairchild@hushmail.com

I can actually date the start of this true story because it began on my birthday in 2015. I may be dizzy but I usually remember what day I was born on but, as time goes on, I get a little forgetful about the year because in 2015 I decided that I didn’t want to get any older and that complicated things. My husband figured out how to fix that for me, which is why I love him so much. He’s a genius with figures. To give you an example, right now I was born in 1985 but in 2015 I was born in 1980. Brian explained it to me how it works one time, but it was a little over my head.

Brian not only has excellent taste in women but a fashion sense that is out of this world and a wallet large enough to spoil me silly. How many women are married to men who get hard when they buy something for their wife? I don’t ‘let’ my husband spoil me; I actively encourage it because it makes him happy. The Sunday Times writer, Adrian Gill, who unfortunately passed away a year ago, said some straight men are born with a gay gene in them that translates into a style sense that few heterosexual men possess. That’s Brian, in a nutshell: straight as an arrow but with the fashion and style sense of a gay fashion designer.

In 2015 I transformed myself from a naughty wife to an art slut and I attribute that to a few factors, not least of which was the shopping spree Brian took me on in Bond Street on my birthday. First there were the three pairs of Louis Vuitton shoes, all heels in different shades of patent leather. Three pairs of 7 for all Mankind jeans, very tight fit and very slutty. Two black cashmere turtleneck sweaters from Hugo Boss and finally a three quarter’s length black leather jacket from Zadig & Voltaire. I didn’t look at the price and I didn’t even try it on, Brian just knew it would work on me and bought it. The lingerie, which he bought for me at Agent Provocateur, was just the icing on the cake.

Brian likes me to have a ‘look’ and what he was going for was sort of like a rock groupie look circa 1980s but updated to be more modern. I like it when Brian does this to me because it takes away my underlying reluctance to change. Knowing he has impeccable taste; I trust his judgment entirely and just let him do his work.

Brian could work in a top London hair salon. He doesn’t. He works on legal briefs for American law firms which pay him a fortune and that allows him to spoil me. But Brian taught himself how to be an excellent stylist and he always does my hair and on that day in 2015 he had an idea that became my trademark for the entire winter and up to this day. Brian cut off two inches of my shoulder length blonde hair and added a hot pink streak to the left side of my part. After the dye set and he washed and blew dry my hair, he helped me get dressed in my outfit of expensive lingerie, tight blue jeans, cashmere black turtleneck, pink patent heels and the pièce de résistance, the black leather three quarter length leather coat. When I looked at myself in the full-length mirror, I was initially too shocked to tell Brian I didn’t really like the look at all. It didn’t feel like it was me, I looked like someone else entirely.

It took me about thirty minutes to completely change my mind. The nice thing about having a lover living in the same building is a second opinion is always at hand. I told Brian I was going to nip over to see Adrian to find out what he thought of my new look. Of course, Brian knows Adrian had been fucking me for the last five years, as did everyone else in the entire building. When I saw the disappointed look on his face, I told him not to fret, I’d be back in 30 minutes.

I crossed the courtyard in the center of our apartment building. I knew Adrian was home because the lights were on in his apartment. When I knocked on the door and he opened it, he had a startled expression on his face that quickly broke into a smile.

“You look hotter than I’ve ever seen you,” he said as he drew me inside and locked his lips on mine. “I want to fuck you right now.”

He had the leather coat off in seconds and my jeans pulled down to my knees. He didn’t bother taking my knickers off, he just pushed them aside as he bent me over and fucked me from behind. No foreplay at all, just a hard cock in my pussy within a minute. Adrian fills my pussy entirely. I need well endowed lovers. My pussy isn’t made for underendowed men. I sort of lost track of time and just enjoyed being ravaged by Adrian but I could tell he was super turned on and he was going to cum quickly. He reached his arm around my back and his fingers found my clit which he rubbed until I came with a moan. His moan came shortly thereafter as he pumped me full of his hot cum. Then he did something he had never done before and slapped me briskly on my bare ass.

“Ouch, what’s that for?” I cried out.

“It’s for being the slut you are,” Adrian said, with a hint of anger in his voice. “If you walk around like that, dressed the way you are, every man is going to want you.”

I was a bit pissed off at Adrian as I pulled up my jeans and zipped them, but I was inwardly very pleased he was jealous. After numerous affairs since our marriage and the move from New York to London, Brian had lost the ability to be jealous, which is probably a good coping mechanism for him, but it made me feel a bit disappointed sometimes. Making Adrian jealous was a good substitute, though.

“That’s too bad,” I replied with a smile. “Because I’m just beginning to really like this look. I think I will have Brian buy me some shorter skirts to wear for the winter. I love my hair too. Brian is going to take me out for my birthday. I hope I get some attention tonight.”

“Every horny man will get hard as a rock when they see you,” Adrian said, with an irritated look on his face. “You won’t make it home tonight. Brian will, alone as usual.”

Adrian’s prediction was quite prescient, but I didn’t know it at the time. It was 6:30 pm when I was walking across the courtyard, once again, back to my apartment this time. The night was young, and I had already been fucked once. I opened the door and found Brian in the kitchen and kissed him on the lips.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t suck his cock,” I said playfully, growing more pleased at how jealous I had made Adrian. “He thinks my look is too hot and every man will want me, so he’s worried that he will lose his place in line.”

“Your look isn’t too hot,” Brian said as he held me. “I wasn’t going for that. You look ultra-cool and hip. That’s the look I wanted. You look far too hip to be with an American lawyer tonight.”

Once again, another prescient prediction, but this time from my husband. Of course, I brushed it aside. Brian is handsome in a drop dead sort of way and he’s younger than me and makes a fortune, and he’s completely and totally faithful to the point that I have never seriously worried about what goes on behind my back. Being by his side makes me sort of sparkle and the security he provides, both emotionally and financially, allows me to be the woman I am.

I went back to the full-length mirror and looked at myself again. Brian was right. I looked younger and edgier. I just didn’t appreciate it at first. That was the point I fell in love with the look and changed forever the way I dressed.

Here’s an unsolicited tip for naughty wives who like younger men: dress hip. It is an ageless look. Don’t wear frocks that shows off your ‘decolletage’ unless, of course, you’re interested in the village vicar. I’ve seen 50-year-old women that have a couple of 20 year old studs in tow because they’re smart enough to know that men crave hip women.

“Where are we going for dinner?” I asked Brian when I returned to the kitchen. I was glowing because I had just been bent over and fucked very recently and was really beginning to love the way the new woman Brian had created looked.

“We’re going to Launceston Place,” Brian said. “We have reservations at 8:00 pm. We can go out for a drink at a pub nearby because there aren’t any pubs around the restaurant.”

Ten minutes later we were at the Phoenix pub on Moscow Road, just a hundred meters from our apartment. It was crowded and Brian couldn’t locate a table. We were just about to leave when I heard my name called out and saw a familiar face waving us over to a table for four that had two unoccupied chairs.

“God, you look fucking fantastic,” Stuart exclaimed when Brian and I neared the table. “I love your look. Did you have an army of stylists around you today? You could have come right off a fashion shoot.”

Stuart and I had known each other for a few years because I have bought some art from his gallery, which was on Chepstow Road, just across from our apartment building. I had mistakenly always assumed he was gay. I wasn’t thoroughly and completely disabused of that notion until about thirty minutes later. He had a friend with him who he introduced as the next Lucien Freud of the London art scene. Stuart was handsome in an aristocratic manner and his young friend, Kurt, was sort of beautiful. Slim of frame, I thought he was sort of asexually attractive at first. I’d find out the real truth at the same time that Stuart’s true sexuality was revealed.

“Not really,” I replied with a smile. “I just have a husband who has impeccable taste and he transformed me for my birthday. We’re out for a quick drink before we have dinner.”

I could speak freely because Brian had gone off to buy a bottle of wine and procure a couple of glasses at the bar. Stuart had a little bit of knowledge about my scandalous past and was always eager to get more dirt from me.

“Are you still fucking the professor?” he asked with a smile. “You could really do much better. You are the hottest women in this pub by a longshot. Look around, nobody can keep their eyes off you. I could fuck you here and now.”

I did a quick glance around the bar and noticed I was getting an undue amount of attention which was beyond flattering and egged on my naughty streak even further. I saw Brian trying to fight his way to the bar and knew he would be a few more minutes and I could talk openly for a bit longer with Stuart.

“I thought you were gay,” I replied to Stuart with a laugh. “I’m sorry if that sounds presumptuous of me, but I thought you liked boys.”

“That’s an act I play for the art scene,” Stuart said in a more serious tone. “No, I’m straight and I wanted to fuck you from the day I saw you, and I’m sure Kurt does as well.”

“Agreed,” Kurt chimed in. “You are very, very hot and I got hard when I first saw you. Stuart has talked to me often about you. He’s wanted to fuck you for years.”

“Why don’t you ditch your husband now and come back to my place with Kurt,” said Stuart with a mischievous grin. “Let’s celebrate your birthday with a bang.”

“That would be tremendously rude of me,” I replied, although against my somewhat limited better judgment, I was actually considering it, just because it came out of the blue and I wanted to change my lifestyle and lovers to match my new look. I needed some great spark to embark on a new journey in life. I have been rude to Brian before and disappointed him numerous times because I can do that and not worry he will be shocked and hurt beyond belief. He expects the unexpected out of me.

“I hope you don’t mind that I was fucked not so long ago,” I said as I stood up from the table. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t my husband.”

I grabbed my purse and began sauntering towards the door. Stuart and Kurt quickly followed. Thirty minutes later the former had his cock deep inside my pussy while I was trying concentrate on taking the latter deep in my throat. Nothing is perfect but the timing of their orgasms was only seconds apart. After our brief and hurried sex,  I wandered around the apartment, just in my heels, looking at the art Stuart had collected while my two young lovers relaxed nude on the sofa where they had just taken me for the first time. Eventually, I sat between them and touched each of them with my fingers, lightly rubbing their cocks, to see if they had recovered.

“I want both of your cocks in my pussy at the same time,” I told Stuart and Kurt. “I want you both to stretch my pussy. I’ve never done that before.”

I took sideways glances at each of them and they both wordlessly nodded their agreement. I arranged their bodies on the sofa, so their legs intertwined and their cock and balls were touching each other. I sat on top and held both cocks in my hand and lowered myself on them slowly letting my pussy get adjusted to the girth of their combined cocks. After I felt totally comfortable, I held them deep inside my pussy and began riding them, gradually picking up tempo until my body was covered in sweat. I bucked on top of them until Kurt came first inside me and Stuart exploded a few seconds later. I was exhausted, afterwards. I stood up on very shaky legs and fell down between them on the sofa. My pussy was overflowing with warm spunk.

“I hope you don’t think I’m an easy woman, or a slut,” I said playfully. “I did wait until I knew Kurt’s name before I fucked you both. A real slut wouldn’t have bothered asking.”

“By the way,” I added. “How do I go back now to only wanting one cock in my pussy.”

“You don’t,” Stuart replied. “Kurt and I will both be fucking you together a lot from now on. We’ll also be taking you around to enjoy the art scene so that’s less time at home for you in the future and more time here on the sofa between us.”

I looked at the wall clock and noted that it was almost 9:00 pm. I had already fucked three men so far today and I had a chance to make it four. In ice hockey I think I would have already done a hat trick.

“I’ve got to get up and go home to my husband,” I said. “I was really rude to leave Brian in the bar like that.”

“You’re not going anywhere until the morning” Kurt said, with a surprising command in his voice, moving his right hand to my pussy and flicking my clit with his fingers. “We aren’t done fucking you.”

“Wow,” I replied. “I like a man who tells me what to do. I guess I can join my husband for breakfast. Besides, after you both fucked me at the same time, I don’t think Brian would get much pleasure from my pussy.”

“What are we going to do about that tonight?” Stuart asked.

“I guess you’ll have to learn how to fist me,” I replied.

I haven’t always kept the hot pink streak in my hair for the last five years. Brian has changed it to blue, orange, black and back to hot pink again. Hanging out with Stuart and Kurt has been a constant, as well as the wild times on their sofa. Through them I have met Damien Hurst, Tracey Emin, David Hockney and other great contemporary British artists and there are a couple of nude paintings of me hung in some very expensive homes in London.

My self-destructive relationship with Adrian has diminished to very infrequent trysts and I have replaced him with two lovers who are much more exciting and far more devoted to me. Brian has grown even handsomer in the last five years. Running off, as I did, on that night irritated him briefly but I came home the next day happier than I had been in years. He liked that a lot.