EROTICA | HOTWIFE | CUCKOLD | FICTION | LETTER

Hotwife Digest Summer Letters

Cover by Max Sebastian

The Hotwife Digest — Summer Letters special edition has just been published. 20 hot stories featuring hot women doing hotwifely things during the hottest months of the year.

Here’s a letter from a woman in Chester. Does anyone remember ***Rediscovering Stephanie***? Well, it seems like Steph’s discovered her husband likes to read Hotwife Digest and has sent in a letter of her own.

Image licensed from Depositphotos

Dear Hotwife Digest,

I thought I’d write and tell you about something that happened when my husband and I were on holiday in Menorca a few years back. Although I’ve never worked up the courage to repeat what took place, my husband knows that just talking about the night I gave myself to another man while he watched always gets my motor running.

Let me explain.

By the time lockdown restrictions were relaxed after the COVID pandemic, I was desperate for a break. As a receptionist working at a doctor’s surgery, I’d spent months getting harangued and verbally abused by patients and their relatives throughout the entire period. Once the travel ban was lifted, my husband Ian booked us a luxury beachside chalet in a hotel complex on the Mediterranean island.

I was self-conscious about my body. All the women at the pool had great tans and great figures, but I was pale and overweight. In my twenties I wouldn’t have been intimidated — I had big boobs, a flat tummy and good legs — but twenty-five years and two kids had taken their toll. I was still a busty blonde, but I no longer turned men’s heads.

Ian tried his best to make me feel better, constantly telling off for wearing long skirts and baggy tops, and saying I should get some sun on my body. With his encouragement, I finally relented and after a couple of days, I started to get a tan. I no longer felt like the white blob by the pool.

Every night we’d have dinner in the hotel restaurant, then go for a walk up the cliff path and watch the sunset. Then we’d return to the hotel bar for a few cocktails before heading back to our chalet. The bedroom was fitted with twin beds and as our sex life had become so sporadic over the years, neither of us suggested pushing them together.

Towards the end of the week I finally started to relax. The sun had given me a healthy glow and I felt more positive about myself. One evening, I put on a white dress that showed off my tanned cleavage, and a pair of white high-heeled sandals. My shoes were unsuitable for walking up the cliff path, so we went to the bar and started drinking cocktails earlier than usual. The guy on the piano was playing Beatles oldies, and I made Ian dance with me. A girl came through selling flowers, and he bought me a white carnation, which I slid into my hair over one ear.

As we enjoyed more cocktails, a group of Englishmen on the table next to us started chatting. They were all friendly and very tanned, explaining they were on a fishing holiday and took a boat out to sea every day. I had a nice time talking to them, and one of the men in particular seemed to be paying me more attention than I’d been used to getting for a long time. Eventually the men stood up to leave, explaining their boat set off very early the following morning. The man who’d been eyeing me up all night held up a full glass and told them he’d follow as soon as he’d finished his drink.

I felt obliged to invite him to join us, and he accepted. He was tall and broad, and introduced himself as Robert. His hair was cut short and receding a little. His face was very tanned, which seemed to set off his blue eyes. Apart from his eye-colour, I thought he had a Sean Connery-look about him.

He was friendly and polite, even though he seemed to be paying my boobs as much attention as my face. While that usually annoyed me, I didn’t mind it from him. As I said, I knew I was no longer the belle of the ball, so his roving eyes were doing wonders for my self-esteem. By the time Ian and I had finished out mojitos, Robert’s glass was almost empty. I was surprised when Ian asked him if he wanted a drink, and even more so when he accepted. Robert claimed he couldn’t manage another beer, so when I said I’d like a Harvey Wallbanger, he said he’d have the same.

The three of us chatted for the next fifteen minutes, and I have to confess that I enjoyed every single occasion Robert glanced down at my cleavage. When I crossed my legs, I saw his eyes drop to check out my calves, and I was so glad I’d put on a sexy pair of shoes. When the piano music started again, I was thrilled when Robert asked me to dance. He spun me around and pulled me close, then took the flower from my hair and held it between his teeth. I laughed so hard my stomach ached, but there was also a warm tingly feeling lower down.

When the song ended we went back to the table and Robert offered to buy the next round. Evidently he’d stopped worrying about his early start the next day. I asked for the same again and when Robert was at the bar, Ian said he’d been expecting me to ask for a Sex on the Beach. He was smiling, so I said the sand gets everywhere and I’d prefer a Slow Comfortable Screw Against the Wall. His face was a picture.

We all chatted and laughed as we drank our cocktails. When Ian asked if Robert had time for another drink, he accepted.

And that’s when the night took an unexpected turn.

Ian came back with six drinks. I thought maybe the bar was closing, but when he suggested the three of us drink them at our chalet, I nearly fell off my chair.

As we walked along the flower-lined path towards our chalet, my mind was doing somersaults. Why had my husband invited Robert back with us? He must have seen the man’s eyes wandering all over my body, so why wasn’t he angry?

At the chalet, we walked out onto the veranda overlooking the sea. Robert and I sat in a swing chair. When Ian went inside to the loo, Robert asked me what was going on. I said I had no idea. When Ian returned and Robert went to the loo, I asked my husband just what he was playing at.

He said something about it being a long time since he’d seen me enjoy myself this much. Apparently, he liked seeing ‘the old me’ and told me I should enjoy myself. I didn’t believe him and said so, but he just smiled.

Then Robert came back out onto the veranda and I decided to call Ian’s bluff. I raised my glass in a toast to Mediterranean nights, then I stepped close to Robert and kissed him. When the two of us checked on Ian, he was leaning against the railing smiling at us. I decided that if my husband wanted to play it cool, I’d see how much fun I could have before he stopped me.

I leaned in and kissed Robert again. This time I slipped him my tongue, and he wrapped his big arms around me and pulled me close. This was the first time I’d kissed another man in almost thirty years, and I was giddy with desire. My knees shook as I slid my hands up the back of his shirt. He was broad and solid. He caressed my boob through my dress, which spurred me on. I began to undo the buttons at the front of my dress — sure Ian would stop me — but he didn’t.

Robert looked at me with hungry eyes. The buttons went down to the waist, and when all five were undone, Robert slipped his hand through the gap, cupped by boob through my bra and traced his fingers over my taut nipple. I purposely avoided looking at my husband because I didn’t want him to stop us.

Robert led me back to the swing chair. When I sat down, he knelt between my feet and I stared into his burning eyes. It’d been a long time since anyone had looked at me with that amount of desire. I still couldn’t look at Ian. My bra fastened at the front. I undid the clasp and pulled the cups away and Robert immediately dropped head and took a nipple into his mouth, then moved over and sucked my other aching nipple. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation.

Next I felt his hands moving up my legs. I was sure Ian would say something then. I didn’t look at him, but I could see him in my peripheral vision. Robert pushed the skirt of my dress up to my waist and pulled my drenched panties down and off. Then he looked down at my exposed sex, and I just opened my legs for him. He dropped his head and as soon as his mouth touched me, I let out a long moan. Robert licked, kissed and sucked at my sex, then his hands came back to fondle my boobs. I closed my eyes. I could smell the sea and hear the waves lapping on the beach, and I was experiencing a kind of pleasure I hadn’t felt in forever.

It wasn’t long before I was right on the edge. My legs shook and my stomach was in knots, but suddenly the enormity of what I was doing hit me. I opened my eyes and looked at Ian. I thought he’d have stopped us by now, but he just stared at me with a kind of weird look. Robert was still feasting on my sex, and then I was coming on his tongue while staring into my husband’s eyes. It was such an intense orgasm I cried out, holding Robert’s head and grinding myself against his face. Then I fell back on the swing chair, my entire body trembling.

When we heard voices down the path, Ian suggested we continue inside. I stood up on shaky legs, the word ‘continue’ echoing through my brain. Apparently my night wasn’t over yet.

Robert helped me up and we went in the chalet. I started undoing Robert’s shirt, conscious of the fact he’d given me so much pleasure and I hadn’t so much as touched him. Once his shirt was open, I leaned in and sucked his nipple. I told him to sit on the couch, then dragged the coffee table out of the way and stood before him. Keeping my eyes on his, I slipped my dress off my shoulders and let it slide off. I stood in front of him completely naked except for my heeled sandals.

In recent years I didn’t like Ian seeing me naked because I could see the disappointment in his eyes. I know he compares how I look now to how I looked when I was twenty-five, and there’s a big difference. But as Robert’s eyes raked over my naked body, I didn’t feel embarrassed about my big breasts being a little saggy, the hint of a spare tyre around my waist, or the excess flesh on my hips. He wanted me. Just seeing that sort of desire in a man’s eyes is a turn-on for any woman.

I dropped to my knees and started unfastening Robert’s shorts. I sensed rather than saw Ian sit in the armchair to my left. As soon as I got the shorts open, Robert lifted up and I pulled them down to his thighs. His cock sprung out, and I stared at it. It was much bigger than Ian’s. Without giving it a second thought, I looked into his eyes and lowered my head. He shuddered when I took him into my mouth, which made me feel good. I couldn’t remember how long it’d been since I’d sucked Ian — at least ten years — but it’s like riding a bike; you don’t forget how. I bobbed my head and used my tongue, sucking and slurping like it was the tastiest lollipop I’d ever had. But I wanted more.

I knew Ian wasn’t going to stop me. I got up off my knees and straddled Robert on the couch. I gripped his big cock and lowered myself onto it. God, I can’t describe how good it felt. For the previous seven or eight years, my sex life had involved fairly brief missionary in the dark. Yet there I was, naked and bouncing up and down on the biggest cock I’d ever had. Not only was it someone I’d only met a couple of hours earlier, but my husband was sitting less than three feet away watching me do it.

When I felt the first tingles of another orgasm, I couldn’t believe it. Sometimes with Ian I don’t even get one. I’d already come on Robert’s tongue, and I was going to come on his cock as well. Robert was caressing me, his hands stroking my hips, cupping my boobs and tugging my nipples. He pulled me close and whispered that he wanted to watch my face when I came again. I stared into his eyes and rode myself to another toe-curling orgasm. I screamed and didn’t care if it upset my husband. I felt like a sex goddess.

Sex goddess or not, by the time I’d stopped shaking, I could no longer ride Robert. I climbed off him, turned around and knelt on the rug. Robert slid off the couch, knelt behind me, and fed his cock back inside. His cock was going deeper than ever, and I grunted on each in-stroke. He held my fleshy hips and took me with force. I didn’t care about my boobs swinging beneath me. I revelled in being taken with such passion. Robert pounded me so hard I had to brace myself against the coffee table. I glanced back at him and urged him to come. He banged me harder still, then I felt his big cock twitch. I knew what was happening. I risked a look at Ian. He looked shellshocked, but I was past caring. I’d just had the fucking of my life.

Robert pulled out and got dressed. I went into the bedroom and put on a robe. When I returned, Robert was telling Ian he was a lucky man. I said I hoped he didn’t miss the boat and he said, ‘who cares about fish?’ before he kissed me and left.

As soon as I’d closed the door, the reality of what had taken place hit me like a cold shower. I’d just committed adultery, and I didn’t know what to say.

Ian pulled me close and held me. I could feel his hard-on pressing against me, and I knew he wanted his turn. There was no bath in the chalet, and I could feel Robert’s goo seeping out and coating my thighs. Ian didn’t seem to care. He dragged me into the bedroom, pushed me onto one of the beds and groped me like he hadn’t done in years. Then he slid his cock into my sopping hole.

I felt guilty for being full of another man’s stuff, but Ian seemed to find it a turn-on. He ran his hands around me to my backside. It was slick with juices — probably a mixture of Robert’s and my own — and he slipped his finger up my bum-hole. We hadn’t played like that in years, and I decided that if he wanted to be dirty, that was fine with me. I dragged my nails down his back as he jabbed me front and back with his cock and finger. He came hard, but I didn’t need to. Just knowing how much he was enjoying me rolling beneath him was enough for me.

The next morning, I gave him a blowjob. I watched his face all the while, and I swallowed everything he produced. He looked like he might cry.

We never saw Robert again. Ian and I spent another lazy day by the pool, then showered, had dinner, and walked up the cliff path. We called for cocktails in the bar, returned to the chalet and made love on the couch where I’d fucked Robert.

As I said, we’ve never repeated the experience, though Ian’s admitted he’d like me to. But I tell him what happened in Menorca was special, and I worry that anything else I did wouldn’t live up to it. Our sex life is so much better now. We have sex with the light on, and Ian can’t get enough of me. I’m no longer ashamed of my body, and that’s all down to the way Robert made me feel on our holiday to remember.

SJ (Mrs), Chester, UK

Delores Swallows © 2026

Make sure you check out all 20 of the letters here.