WTF Just Happened, and Why is This Man Calling Me Momma?!?

When my husband and I met “Thor,” we decided that we would make him my exclusive FWB. The husband would watch when he could, but that wasn’t often. Most of the time, Thor and I would meet, talk and have some amazing sex, then part ways until the next time we could get together. This went on for a couple of months following our initial meeting. Each time, Thor would mention that HE would also like to see me have sex with another man. I kept thinking to myself, what the fuck? I’m older, and bigger, and not really all of that sexy, I’m sure as hell not a porn star, so why the hell do these guys want to see me fucking other men? I mean, my husband was one thing, but now my FWB wants to see this as well? I guess he and the hubs were on the same wave length, because they both started talking about me being with a BBC. If you’re like I was at that time, you have to UrbanDictionary some of this shit, because it can all get confusing.

My husband’s birthday was at the new year, so I thought, What the Hell?   Why not give him his birthday wish.  I allowed him to once again post on the Craigslist Casual Encounters, just to see if the first time we posted was a fluke.  OK, so I was VERY naive then about how many horny ass men there are in our southern region then.  I had no idea that so many gorgeous, young and hung, beautiful black men would want to have sex with a white cougar, and do it all in front of her husband.  I talked with a couple via email, and one stood out via those conversations as someone I could connect with.  While many who live the HotWife life may say that it’s just sex, it doesn’t matter if I like them, I am NOT one of them.  I like to actually get to know a potential partner first.  Make sure not only that we have a physical attraction, but for me a mental one as well.  I have two sayings now: 1) If I won’t suck a cock, I won’t fuck a cock (you get me if you have seen some of the dick pics men like to send out) and 2) If you can’t arouse my mind, forget about getting the pussy wet.  The one I decided to use as my husband’s birthday “gift” met both of those needs.  We spoke on the phone once to set everything up, and then the day came.  I was excited, my husband looked like a fat kid with unlimited credit in the candy store, and the guy seemed excited as we dirty texted throughout the day.  And then night came, and at the end of it, all I could think was, What the FUCK Just Happened?!?

When dude arrived at the hotel room, he was a little tipsy and a lot NOT like his pictures.  He was still a good conversationalist.  He sat and talked to hubs and I, and he was starting to get me warmed up by touching my leg, nuzzling my neck, looking me in the eyes (big turn on for me).  Then when we start to move the fun towards the bed, he looks at me, starts unbuttoning my white shirt, licks his lips and says, “You ready for my big dick, Momma?”  Errrrrkkkk.  Press the breaks.  Squeel the tires.  Did this grown ass man just call me Momma?  I gave him a puzzled look, he smiled and went back to stripping me naked, and I thought perhaps I misheard him.  When we are both naked, we get comfy on the bed and start going at it like a man and a woman in need of some angry sex will do.  That’s when it happens again.  He is fucking me like there is no tomorrow and he whispers, “Damn you feel good Momma.”  OK.  I did NOT hear him incorrectly.  Totally out of my sexy zone, pussy drying up, and tense, the man I now call “Momma Dude” totally blows his load in the condom, pulls out, and proceeds to get himself all comfy under the sheets and blankets of MY hotel bed, and immediately falls asleep.  Not just asleep, I mean comatose asleep.  Snoring like a freight train.  Snuggled in the bed like Santa is on his way with a bag full of toys, and he must sleep the sleep of the dead to get his gifts Christmas morning.

I don’t know what to do first.  Laugh at the fact that this guy blew his rocks and is now passed out in the bed my husband and I were planning to share, or the fact that he kept calling me Momma, even as he came.  I look to my husband, and we both bust out laughing.  I have tears rolling down my eyes, mascara tracks lining my cheeks, we are laughing so hard.  The kicker, we can NOT get Momma Dude to wake up!  Thinking he just needs to sleep off the alcohol he had consumed and working all day, the husband and I watch a football game, have some cocktails, and laugh and chuckle with each loud snore coming from Momma Dude in our bed.

The finale of the night came when Momma Dude’s phone kept ringing over and over.  My husband tried waking him up, telling him [Name Withheld] was calling over and over and he may want to answer.  Momma Dude just mumbled that it was his wife and she would be OK.  Shut the fucking front door!  Mr. I am single and will never get married because I like to fuck too much….is actually married?!?  Well shit.  I just went from a slut to an actual  whore, and I didn’t even know it!!!  That was the last straw for my husband, who literally lifted the guy up out of the bed, helped him get his coat on, handed him his phone, and sent him out the door.

When the door shut, hubs and I looked at each other, and like the soul mates we are, said at the same time…What the fuck just happened?!?  Then we broke down laughing again.  As we sat on the couch to laugh and cuddle the night away, I looked at my other half and said, “I think a better question would be why was a man calling me Momma?”  We both died laughing.  I would later find, through my entrance into BDSM, that was his way of feeling me out a little for a role in dominance.

If I could talk to Momma Dude today, I would say….

You were definitely a learning experience for me.  One, you taught me that I need to spend more time getting to know someone before just saying Let’s Fuck, although a few after you would prove even then you don’t truly know someone who is playing a role for sex.  Two, you showed me that just because I am honest about my life and relationships, not everyone else will be.  I should have learned from you.  I should have taken that lesson to my heart and protected myself from lies told by others, and also by me, and remembered not to care so much.  I should have remembered from you that the only man that will care about me and my emotional and physical well-being will be my husband.  It taught me a valuable lesson that night, one that I would not learn from soon enough.  Thank you for at least making it entertaining.  Thank you for not truly hurting me.  That role would be played by a few after you.


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