Look, I spent the night last night with Shane, and it was unreal. Waking up this morning, my pussy was still slippery from his cum, my ass stretched from how he owned it with his dick, and I felt like a goddamn queen. Shane was stretched out nude, sleeping, his limp dick just lying there, practically begging me to suck it dry. I wanted to, bad, but life got in the way. So I just kissed the tip, a little tease for myself, got dressed, and headed home. Knowing I'll get to drink his cum later today, that it'll taste even better after craving it all day, has me all kinds of worked up. It's not just the sex. It's the raw emotions and deep feelings that the sex has created. Shane can have me whenever he wants...and I want him to have me every day. It's also knowing I will go home and share my thoughts with my husband, who I converted into a roommate. A perfect roommate at that.
Quit reading if my obsession with humiliating Scott makes you cringe because today's gonna be brutal for him, and I've got butterflies for him just thinking about it. My husband's at the shop all day, working under Shane, who I spent last night with, who fucked me senseless. Shane snatched the job Scott wanted, reversing the roles of Scott from boss to employee. I can't stop picturing Scott sitting across from Shane, knowing that cock was inside me, knowing I screamed Shane's name. The mental emasculation must be crushing, like his balls are shrinking with every second. Last night, in a post-cum haze, I told Shane I loved him—don't know if I meant it, but it felt like it would be a good punch in the balls for Scott later. And I'm just getting started. I'm heading to the shop for a lunch date with Shane. Everyone's gonna see me walk in, think I'm there for Scott, then watch me leave with Shane while Scott sits there, drowning in shame. In minutes, I'll have Shane's cock in my mouth, and every employee will know Scott's wife chose his boss. Just thinking about how pitiful they will feel for him, whispering about how "She's with Shane and Scott's just taking it...while his wife is taking it!" makes my head spin and my clit stupid hard. I don't know why it gets me so wet, but I'm very high on the power of making Scott feel small. I know...harsh. But I'm an addict, so it's not going to stop.
And here's the kicker that really gets me. When I tell Scott I love Shane more and when I go on about how I crave Shane's cum inside me, Scott's face looks like I've punched him, but his dick gets hard. It's like his body's betraying him, popping a shame boner while his heart's breaking. Why the fuck does that happen? Part of me thinks it's because he's wired to get off on the humiliation like the pain of being replaced by a younger, hotter guy who flips some twisted switch. Maybe it's the raw sex talk—my words hit him hard and his body can't help but react. Or maybe it's the power dynamic, Shane being everything Scott isn't, or at least not anymore. Shane has become dominant, confident, and in charge. Whatever it is, that erection is proof I'm winning, that I'm tearing him down, and it drives me wild. Seeing his dick hard while his eyes scream hurt makes my clit throb like nothing else. I feel like I'm Scott's puppet master, pulling strings to make his dick betray him, and the sexual high of that kind of control is better than any orgasm. I'm obsessed with pushing it further, seeing how much he can take, how hard he'll get when I rub his face in it. It's fucked up, and I can't get enough.
I told Jake he had been replaced and moved to the number 2 spot. He retaliated by letting me drink a heavy load of his sperm.
I walked into Jake's office and closed the door. He had a big smile for me as I was dressed how he liked me to be. I walked over to him, straddled him, we kissed, and guided his hand under my dress so he could feel my hard clit. I have no idea why telling Jake that he has joined the club with Scott, not exactly like Scott, but still, Jake was in the process of being reduced. I like that word. Reduced. It gives me a mental picture of making him smaller and giving me more power over him. I worked his cock out of his pants. It was still semi-soft but twitching and getting larger by the second. Then I grabbed it hard, squeezed it, and said "You are second to Shane now, it's up to you what you want to do. I can leave now, or you can accept being moved to number 2. His face was angry, and he said some things he shouldn't have, but I understand why. He has been replace by a man 15 years younger than him. His dick, however, didn't reflect what his mind was thinking. It was hard as a rock. I love how men get betrayed by their cock. It makes me wet thinking about it. I looked him in the eye with his dick in my hand and said, "Choose, second to Shane… or I leave." He gripped my hips and pulled me in, and I took that as acceptance. So, I pumped his dick, palm slapping it hard and working the head of his dick with my fingers. Jake's dick seemed as hard as I'd ever felt it. I leaned down, licked the leaking cum slit, swallowed the taste, then took him deep in my throat. He moaned, holding my head. I knew I had successfully reduced Jake with Shane, the same way Jake reduced Scott. What cums around goes around. I sucked harder, bobbing faster, feeling his dick twitch between my lips.
He started making weird noises, his hips began thrusting up, and I felt his balls tightening. I milked his balls with my hand as he pumped hot sperm, flooding my mouth. I swallowed every spurt and sucked his cock dry until he went limp. I pulled back and looked at him, and he was looking all pathetically cum stupid with a twinge of shame. I love that look. Guys can get so helpless if you make them cum so hard they lose their ability to think. I made him look at me by snapping my fingers, and I said, "Second place," and when I caught his eye, I licked the leftover cum from my lips, and I said, Second place tastes good on you." I pulled my dress down, licked his pussy slick finger, and walked out, and all he could do was say my name.
Jake's decision is final. He knows it. I know it. He will have to be content in his role now—second to Shane. I'm sure he will have no complaints. The power shift went smoother than I thought. No more sneaking around; Shane's out in the open with Jake. It's all laid out, and it's exactly how I wanted it.
Honestly, I can't wait to see where this goes. I have three main men in my life, all on the same page that I want them to be. Things are about to get wild, maybe a little out of control. I hope so! Let the games begin.
I just thought that I would let you know what my plans are for the day and my Shane and Jake issues 😉 I will keep you all posted on happens with Jake today, hopefully it all works out in my favor 😜
Shane's cock was buried deep inside me as I sat on his lap, harder than I think I have ever felt it. It got hard as a rock the second I congratulated him on getting his new promotion and position at the shop. The way he made out with me was amazing. It felt like this was way more than just an awesome sex relationship. I liked that. So much so that I pulled his pants down and sat him down on the chair, I crawled on top of him and slipped his dick in my guts. With his tongue in my mouth and his dick stretching my pussy I don't think I ever wanted Shane as badly as I did right then. It was perfect like he felt I was now his property for good. He ground his dick around inside of me while he told me how much he wanted me to be his. I promised him I was. With the head of dick touching my stomach from inside me, he asked me if I liked knowing he had taken the job my husband wanted from him. It's all I could take, and I came so hard my brain turned off. That was my answer.
Shane laid me on my back, and my legs, as usual, opened up wide for his dick. I really liked the way Shane smiled when he watched my legs open like a reflex to let Shane breed my hole. I felt like Shane's trophy. The thought of knowing the man with his cock pumping inside of me has beaten Scott at every turn, making Scott in my mind just another guy I talk with now and then. I pictured Scott at home, his body betraying his emotions, jerking on his shame boner at the thought of me being with Shane as a real couple now.
Shane worked his dick in and out of my hole, kissing me and asking me if he meant more to him than Scott did. It's hard to say yes to these things...because its not really true. But in a way, it also is, and when I said "yes," it felt good! It must be the same for Shane because when I said yes, he started shooting his cum inside of me. I love nothing more than feeling his sperm spread through my insides. It feels so exquisite physically and mentally. Like it has joined us together, pushing Scott to the outside. I thought I might get another cum from it, but it wasn't meant to be. Sometimes when I cum extremely hard and long, I need an hour or so before I can cum again. Shane kept his dick in me until it went soft and fell out, along with the jizz he left inside of me. It was amazing!
We talked about how easy it will be to make Scott understand his position in life now and the things we are going to put him through. Shane flipped things around on Scott. Shane went from being the guy fucking his boss's wife to being Scott's boss and taking his wife, that being me, and making himself my number one man. That's a lot to wrap my mind around but fuck me, it sounds so perfect. I didn't think things could get any better.
Shane is already planning the next meeting with Scott. He will make sure every order he places with him will also include a firm reminder of how he now owns me. I get this weird nervous feeling for Scott... it's a feeling that makes my pussy wet. Just saying.
This is perfect. Shane got the job that Scott wanted. I had no idea this was even a possibility. I can feel the wetness pooling in my pants just thinking about it. I'm getting ready to leave to go congratulate Shane. I'm going to mentally smile while I suck him off in celebration of his victory. This doesn't sound good for my moral character, but I can't stop fingering myself, thinking how Scott is at home and wondering why he couldn't get the job. All I can think about is Shane giving Scott his orders just minutes after I begged Shane to empty his sperm down my throat. Holy crap...that fires me up in ways I can't describe.
This is something I never saw coming. Scott and Shane don't technically work for the same company. I didn't even know Shane was looking for the job but Shane's success is a surprising turn-on. Fuck, it's so hot knowing that Shane, who in reality is Scott's rival, is reducing him to nothing...taking his job and me! The mental power is indescribable, and it's such a turn-on. Every time I'm with Shane, I won't be able to stop thinking about it. Knowing that he's beaten Scott at every turn, that he's taken the job that Scott wanted, all while he's slipping his dick down my throat and in my pussy. Well, it's something I never saw coming! And I'm going to ride it hard...both the situation and Shane's dick. When I see Shane, the only thing I want to do, no, the only thing I need to do, is open my legs and let him empty his testicles in my guts. I need to feel his sperm coat my insides, breeding me, taking me from my husband. I am so turned on at the thought that Shane has taken what he wanted and proved himself to be the better, dominant man, the man I need. He's won. He knows he's won, and he is going to enjoy his prize...which is me. And I can't think of anything hotter!
And Scott, he's at home. I'm sure his body will betray him...again. I love picturing him holding his sad shame boner in his hand. Pathetically jerking it at the thought of me with Shane. The man half his age who has beaten and outclassed him not only at work but with me both sexually and emotionally. What makes my clit throb is knowing Scott is powerless to stop it. I wish I could see his face while he jerks himself off until he embarrasses himself by cumming at the thought of me belonging to Shane! Shit, I'm going to cum hard today!
I'm driving through Daytona, and I spot some guy at a stoplight, a younger guy in a lifted truck. It doesn't matter who he is—my brain's already there: "I wonder what his cock looks like." It's always my first thought, never him eating me out or touching me. Just his dick in my mouth. I love the thought of thinking his first experience with me would be me kneeling in front of him, the head of his dick just resting in my mouth, waiting patiently for that moment his balls let go so I can drink his sperm. It makes my clit hard just thinking about it.
I admit my mind shifts to him inside me. That feeling when a cock pushes in, it's this tight, amazingly sexy stretch, then a deep fullness lets me know I'm a woman. And yes, I'm wet just thinking about it. What isn't hot about wishing the guy in the truck beside me at the light would breed like a MILF in heat. I can assure you my pussy finds it wildly hot.
And as always, the light changes, and he's gone, but my pussy doesn't accept that. It's not about him. It's the thought of his cock in my mouth or pumping my guts in one hole or the other. I will say for me, the hottest part is thinking about kneeling in front of him, waiting for that hot rush of cum for me to drink. Makes my clit pulse every time.
I wish it were as easy to find a guy as so many people think it is. It's not. I rarely get approached, and typically, I have to be the aggressor. I know half of you are saying, "Bullshit." or "Pick me!" If only it were that easy. What am I looking for in a guy? Fuck if I know. It seems to change instantly, depending on the guy. Do I want to fuck the snot out of a guy I find wildly attractive without knowing anything about him or his personality? I do. No questions asked. Like you, if I find someone wildly attractive, my legs want to spread wide open immediately, no questions asked. Rob would be one of those guys. Perfect to look at with a 9-inch beautiful cock. I still fuck him, even though he can be a real asshole from time to time. Then there was, I think his name was Chuck? I can't even remember. Big heavy guy, not attractive, but enjoyable to be around. He ended up having the most enormous cock I have ever had the pleasure of ruining my insides with. He got weird in a physical way, so he had to go. Wish that hadn't happened, but it did. What's my point? I don't have a type. I don't think I ever did. I do have some rules. Rule number one is they have to live locally, no more than 15 or 20 minutes away. Rule number two. They don't endlessly text...I hate that. Rule number 3. They have their own place. I think that is pretty much it.
Just getting warmed up and stretched out. Hopefully I get live cock today but just incase I don't, I can't say that I didn't get fucked today 😜 Hope you enjoy!
No, Jake isn't gone forever. He's just gotten predictable and honestly boring. Doesn't mean I still don't have feelings for him, not to mention my pussy is still madly in love with his dick, but it does feel like maybe we have run our course. Jake is heavily into his work, career, and the spoils that lifestyle brings, and I respect that in a big way... I'm just not on the same path. I don't care about material things all that much, and I'm not looking for someone who needs those things to the point of working 7 days a week to get them. I have what I need, and it's enough for me. Shane is a better fit. Plus, he's half my age and as pervy as it sounds...I like that in a very sexual way. I'll keep you posted.
It's been days since Jeep Week, and I'm still thinking about that twenty-year-old beach god. His body is seared in my head, and my pussy's throwing a tantrum because it didn't get to feed on his cum. I could have emptied his testicles in such a way it would have changed his life forever...for the better.
I might have come off as dick-desperate. I mean, I handed my number over to him in front of his father, so maybe I was a little starved for cock. I did have visions of being his personal fuck toy, wanting to make him smile by emptying his balls in any way he wanted me to. But...crickets. No text, no call, zip. I'd have flung my legs open faster than you can say "beach bod" and let him use me like his own private playground. I'm pointing the finger at his dad, that forty-four-year-old fun-sucker, probably butt hurt that I didn't bat my eyes at him so he cock blocked me like a petty chaperone. It's way easier to believe that than admit the kid might've just swiped left on me—though, ouch, that's possible. My ego's limping, but I'm sticking with the dad-as-villain story. It's less depressing than thinking about his cock might have ghosted me...which is causing my pussy to stage a daily protest at the injustice of it all.
Sitting here with a load of Shane's cum on my belly and another still slick in my pussy, I'll be honest. It's not just the sex...though, that has suddenly become incredible in the best of ways, but I can't get enough of Shane and his friends. They're all in their 20s and 30s, and I'm older, as in 58, so it's quite the swing. But I've been invited into their group of about 20 people—talking with them, laughing, jeeps kicking up mud. What drives me wild is the mental buzz, knowing they know Shane fucking me raw, pumping his cum into me every chance he gets. That thought twists my head and makes my pussy drip, a hot, slick drool that soaks my shorts and slides down my thigh because I never wear panties. And Shane ensures they know I'm his now, not my husband's. They all know Scott. They have to work with him now and then. It's such a massive power shift, Shane, taking me from Scott. It makes me want to drop to my knees and suck the cum straight out of Shane's balls just thinking about it.
Shane's not shy about it. He pulls me onto his lap in front of them; his hands are all over me, sliding over my hips and my thighs, making sure everyone knows I am his. Claiming me while they watch. I can't get enough of how he kisses me in front of Shane's buddies, as well as knowing Scott is my husband. It makes my pussy throb, wet and messy, because they know Shane's dick owns me now. Their smirks, their glances, it's like they're picturing him pounding me, and my brain lights up with it, my clit so hard I can barely sit still. The idea that they're thinking of Scott knowing I've traded him for Shane's cock, sends a jolt through me, my juices dripping, my body begging for more.
We slip away sometimes, and they know why. Last time, Shane bent me over in a back room, his cock stretching me in amazing ways. I love the way Shane never asks if he can cum inside of me, he just does, and when Shane came this time, his dick pumped his jizz in me so deep it was like he was marking my pussy as his, taking it away from Scott. Walking back, my pussy still stretched and messy from his load leaking inside me, I catch their looks. That twisted, electric rush hits—knowing they're imagining Shane's dick inside of me, his sperm claiming me. I always wonder what they think about me being married to a man they know, and how Shane is taking me from him. I wish someone would bring it up. I would probably cum from the mental image of their judgment, their envy, making me so wet it's almost unbearable. Still, I love how Shane's hand stays on me when we talk with his friends. His grip is saying, "She's mine," and it fuels my twisted kinks, making me want to worship his cock, and drain him dry right there.
The other night, Shane's arm was around me, his fingers brushing my thigh in front of them all, and one of his friends—Scott's coworker—muttered, "Shane's the luckiest bastard, having you." Just hearing that made my heart beat fast, my pussy clenched, and I swear I could've cum from the words alone. It's like they have accepted that I belong with Shane. We are a perfect fit. It's hard to write this thinking about that because my mind gets lost in the filthy thrill of belonging to him, of choosing his cock over my husband's. 2025 has been a fantastic year for me...I hope it only gets better!
Shane’s place was a quick drive, but with his hand teasing my thigh, my pussy was soaked from the high of leaving Scott crushed in the kitchen. We barely got inside before I was on my knees, ripping his jeans open. His dick—bigger than Scott’s, a touch smaller than Jake’s, but thick and perfect—made my mouth water. I sucked him deep to the point it made my throat hurt. I wish I had a bigger mouth. It’s probably good I don’t, or I’d be sucking dick balls deep 24/7. I kept the head of his dick in my mouth and swirled my tongue around the head until he groaned and came. His cum was warm and slimy and felt perfect, sliding down my throat. I swallowed it all, my pussy throbbing from the taste.
Still catching my breath, I looked up at Shane and told him I was thinking about him yesterday while Scott was fucking me. His face tightened, uncomfortable, but then he started asking questions. He wanted to know about me and Scott, if I loved him. I said I do, but it’s different—I’m drawn to Shane and want to see where this goes. I told him I’d be fine making Scott just some guy I talk to now and then, even if we share a house. The thought of Scott being reduced to just a roommate hit me hard. Knowing I’m shredding his manhood by choosing Shane makes my pussy ache for Shane even more. It’s like every bit of power I take from Scott fuels my hunger for Shane.
We moved to the couch, clothes gone, and Shane spread me open, his cock sliding in slow, then slamming deep. His dick stretched me so perfectly, filled me like I was meant for his cock, and sent my body into overdrive. My pussy gripped him, drooling, as he fucked me hard, and then it hit—an orgasm so intense it blanked my mind. I might have even screamed his name it was that good. It was the strongest cum I’ve ever had, stronger than anything with Scott or Jake. It rewired me for Shane.
After, sweaty and tangled up, Shane pulled me close, fingers tracing my skin. We talked—not just sex, but us. He wants a real relationship, something serious. His eyes locked on mine; he said he wouldn’t share me—not with Scott or Jake. He doesn’t want me near Jake, doesn’t want Scott touching me, not even to jerk off while I watch. He said it’d gut him knowing his girlfriend’s naked in front of another man. I could see it in his face, and it was like he was scared I’d say no. I didn’t. I agreed, no question. Shane’s my everything—his dick, his laugh, the way he makes me feel like his queen. Scott’s my past, Jake’s done. Shane’s my number one now, and I’m all in.
Jeep Week is in full swing. I took my Wrangler and parked with about a thousand other Jeeps on the beach. I'm fifty-eight, bikini on, sitting on the hood, staring at a guy I wasn't even sure was legal. He made it hard not to look at him because he was lean and cut, and that left me looking at his shorts, thinking his cock just had to be perfect, thick, made to stretch me wide and ruin me. I won't lie. It made my pussy wet and my mind wetter. I got so caught up I lost track of everything and everyone else... a perv MILF with her pussy throbbing focused only on him.
And then his father came trailing behind him. He was in his 40s, I later found out he was 44, and after his son asked me about my Jeep, His dad chimed in, chatting about nothing. The dad is younger than me, but I'm not here for him. He probably sees me staring at his son like I'm ready to suck him until he deflates, and I'm half-laughing, half-cringing at my perverted thoughts. My pussy is screaming for this kid—mouth, pussy, every inch of me dying to feel his dick inside me. That made my bikini stick to my lips, sloppy wet from the ideas running through my mind.
I answered a few more questions from him, ignoring his father, and he flashed me a smile that made my clit hard as a rock. And as you may know, if my clit is hard...my nips are just as hard, giving them both a show. I couldn't help myself. All I could think was how happy I'd be emptying his balls, letting him use me like a fuck toy. I kept thinking how hot it would be to let a 21 yr old fuck me brain-dead. His father conveniently kept bringing his age up as if it were more appropriate for me to focus my attention on him. Not a chance. Letting a 21-year-old breed me like he owned me is maddening sexy. I imagined his cock in my mouth, throat working to take him deep, every twitch of his dick on my tongue making my pussy sing. I'd suck him until he was begging me to drink his jizz, and, lucky him, my only goal would be to drain him dry.
Then out of nowhere, I get this mental picture of him bending me over the Jeep, cock slamming into me, that deep stretch filling my guts. Fucking me senseless until my legs get like jello, and I end up begging for him to pump cum inside me, leaving me a hot, cummy well, bred mess. I so wanted to be his MILF toy, used hard, marked with his jizz, and a hell of a story to tell all his friends. I like the thought of being the Hot, old slut that will fuck the dick off a 21 yr old, ruining him for all silly chicks his age to follow.
As embarrassing as it was, my pussy was running the show, and I blurt out to the 21 yr old, making sure the father knew he was the third wheel in all of this, "Can I give you my number?" I think my face might have turned red...talk about being obvious. That's what happens when I get overpowered by my pussy. Seriously, though, I need this. He smiled at me and handed me his phone, and I somehow got my number tapped in. His father is staring at me like I'm some feral MILF gone wild. I get it... I'm 58, he's 21, and I'm practically begging him to slip his dick in me. But...he's legal, way better looking than his father, and that 21 yr old body...makes my mouth water...practically dying to feel his cum pumping into me. Am I unhinged? I am when I'm worked up like this...But I love it and wouldn't have it any other way. Fuck...I hope he gets hold of me! Let you know!
Ugh, people keep DMing me about politics. Like, I'm running for office or something. Look, I do PORN, I don't write briefs on foreign policy. I don't get it. I post a video of me ramming a butt plug up my ass while I fire up the vibrator on my clit, and somebody will DM me, "What do you think about the tariffs?" Oh...I don't know. I'm too busy pounding my clit with a nuclear-powered vibrator and moaning loud enough to wake the neighbors to care about tariffs. I probably will when my vibrator breaks, and it eventually will; they always do, and it will cost $1k to replace it because of the tariffs. I doubt it, but it's possible, I guess. The only debate I care about is whether or not I can find a guy with a 15-inch dick.
Why are there wet spots in these pics? I was reminded of when a pornstar friend of mine called giving a blowjob in a car a "Sardine Can Slurpfest. I admit, it's always been a favorite of mine...the "Sardine Can Slurpfest. If they made a video of me doing it, I picture myself crammed in a shitty sedan that belongs to a married man, knees smacking the glovebox, sucking cock like it's an Olympic sport. Gagging so loud it sounds like a dying walrus, spit flying, then—BAM—a gallon of jizz erupts. Half, I swallow the rest, splattering the seats. It makes me smile, knowing the car will smell like a cum-soaked gym sock forever. The worst part about this whole post...It made me wet thinking about it as you can see in the pictures.
Side note: One time, I rented a car in LA, and I let this black guy fuck me stupid in it. He pumped a super-sized load in my asshole, and all of it leaked out onto the driver's seat. I always thought about the next person renting it, wondering why the seats are so crunchy. If they only knew it was a jizz swamp a few days earlier.
If you're posting hardcore porn—spreading your legs, showing your pussy getting pounded, or sucking cock on camera—you're sending a clear message: "I'm all about sex." That's your choice, and it's badass. I love it. But then you act shocked when guys send dick pics. You're sharing videos of your tits bouncing, cum pouring out of your asshole, and jizz dripping off your face. That's not subtle—it's raw, sexual, and in-your-face. Guys watching aren't thinking about what an art form your work is. They are jerking off, and some believe, because you proclaimed loudly in your posts how much you loved a dick pumping cum in your asshole, "She's into this. I'll show her my cock." It's not creepy—it's them joining the vibe you created. If you're cool with cocks in your videos, why's a pic in your DMs a big deal? You're a porn star, porn chick, content creator, whatever, not a victim. Own the game, expect the splashback, and move on. Complaining about dick pics when you're flaunting every inch of your body is just weak and annoying. Plus, it screams, "I'm a fraud!" if a picture of a dick sets you off.
My husbands dick turned into a sperm foutain when I told him Jake and I were now officially a couple. Truly kinky bastard. Both of us.
And, at the same time, NJ-Tony asked me this question. "Love the tits clit muscles but this shit you do to your husband is to much Im out. No woman who loves her man would treat him bad like that. Why do you even stay married?"
Truthfully, I've been wrestling with why I've let my husband slip into this role of a casual friend, someone I share a home with but don't give my body or deepest feelings to anymore. Key word. It's a role. It is the part he plays in our admittedly whacked sexual kink which has turned into a lifestyle. Look, I never intended to take things this far, and I don't blame myself—not entirely. He started this early on before we got married. He was the one who brought up cuckolding, his eyes lighting up when he talked about me being with other men. He nudged me into it, and it didn't take much because I was already a massive fan of it. I stepped away from it for many years. Again, admittedly, it ruined two marriages. But Scott was unfazed and pushed on, and like a drug, once I tasted it again, I was hooked harder than I have ever been. I'm addicted to the feeling of another man's cock—in my hand, in my mouth, inside me. It's a rush that hits me like a train. Again, Scott begged me for this life, so it's also not my fault I caught feelings and developed deep connections with other men, feelings that overtake what I feel for my husband now. Scott knew this was a risk, but pushed for it anyway. But I know these emotions, these intense desires, aren't the whole truth—they're a response to this kink, this addiction that's taken over my life.
When I'm with another man, everything else fades away. Their hands on me make me feel alive, wanted in a way that feels electric. I love guiding them inside me, feeling that stretch, that perfect fullness, the way it makes me beg for more. I lose myself when their cock hits just right, making me moan their name like it's all I know. But it's not just the physical—it's the emotional pull. The way they look at me like I'm their world, the way they make me laugh, the way I feel so free with them. I didn't plan to let those feelings grow so big, overshadow what I have with my husband, but they did. I'm caught up in these men, and I love them more than him in those moments. Yet, I know it's not real—not entirely. It's this kink twisting me, making me want someone else more, but somehow, it only makes me love my husband deeper because he's in this with me, sharing this addiction.
Telling my husband about it is where it gets intense, and me telling you makes some people uncomfortable. I don't hold back—I lay it all out. I describe how another man kissed me, their tongue teasing mine, making me dizzy. I tell him how they kissed down my body, sucking and nibbling, making me squirm. I talk about how I opened my legs for them, how their cock felt so perfect, how I came so hard I couldn't think straight. And I go deeper—I tell him how I feel about these men, how I think about them constantly, how I love them in this overwhelming way that feels bigger than what I feel for him. I see it hit him, the way his face shifts, and it's a powerful rush. Don't get me wrong, It's not about hurting him. It's about this power, this thrill of being so raw. The most exhilarating yet perplexing part for me and other people is when I'm telling him I love another man more than him, I see him get hard. His erection is right there, undeniable, and it's so confusing for both of us, but so exciting. My words, my truth about choosing someone else over him, are turning him on, and it sends this jolt through me. It's like I'm breaking him and lifting him up all at once, and it messes with my head in the best way.
I get that these feelings, this lifestyle, it's not the whole picture. It's like I'm caught in this haze where I want another man more than my husband, where I feel these crazy, deep emotions for them, but it's all tied to this kink. It's not reality—it's my addiction playing tricks on me. But that confusion, that intensity, it's what makes this so thrilling. And the fact that my husband is right there with me, letting me chase this, getting hard when I tell him I love someone else, makes me love him more. Not less, but more. Because he's part of this, he's letting me live this out, which binds us in an unbreakable way I can't explain. I'm addicted, and it's messy, but it's ours, and I'm not sorry for it. My husband's hard dick seems to feel the same way.
Ever just see some tits and instantly get that craving to pump your dick in a hole? I'm talking about a picture or video that just sets you off. And suddenly, your head is stuck on fucking. I'm not talking about making love. I'm talking about fucking. It happens to me all the time. I'm a woman, so it probably isn't the same experience for you, but I get it—sometimes I see a guy, and all I can think about is holding his cock in my hand, feeling the weight of it, how hard it is when I stroke it slowly. Probably just like you want to taste a pussy, I get that need to taste a dick, slide it into my mouth, feel it push deep until my throat's tight. But more times than not, it makes me crave having it inside me. It's like I can feel it sliding inside of me, filling me up, moving things around in a way that turns my legs into rubber. I want to feel it deep, rearranging my insides with every pump. I want to feel him empty his balls inside of me, make me cum so hard my brain turns off. All of this obsession to get fucked started by a silly pic or video I saw on my phone. Crazy how I can get that worked up over something like that.
I'm sure it happens to men as well. It has to. I know damn well I can hijack a man's brain, and all you can think about is slipping your cock into me. That first push, my pussy gripping you as you slide in, feeling me stretch around you, legs pulling you deeper. I always wonder if guys get that rush, knowing you're moving things around inside me, hitting spots that make me forget how to breathe. I don't know, maybe it's just me, and I'm the odd one out….But I doubt it seriously! Let me know!
I keep thinking about lying back on the hood of some studs Jeep, with my legs spread wide and my skirt bunched up around my hips. I would love people to see me like this—strangers, passersby, anybody who happens to look. I want their eyes on me as I let some guy with a thick cock, just fuck me senseless right there in the open. Not my husband, Scott. It can't be him. He's just a guy I live with now, someone I share a house with, like a friend I don't care much about. I don't let him touch me anymore. His sperm doesn't get to fill me. That's only for other men, men who can make my body sing, men who can feed my obsessions that Scott can't. Letting Scott inside me would ruin everything, would break this perfect marriage I have set up where he's nothing to me, and I'm free to chase what I want.
These things I think about become a need. Right now, I'm obsessed with the thought of a big, hard cock pushing into me, stretching my pussy so wide it feels like it's rearranging my insides. I can feel it right now in my head before it ever would happen—every inch sliding in, deep it's like it's moving my guts, shifting everything to make space for it. It's not just the stretch. It's the way it changes me like my body's being reshaped, molded to fit this guy's dick. I picture a stranger's cock, so thick it makes my mouth water, fucking me slow at first, then harder, until I'm a cummy mess. I want it to hurt just enough to make me feel alive, to make me feel every thrust like it's rewriting who I am.
And so, you know, the feeling of a man's cock pumping cum into my hole—I live for that. It's like the ultimate high. When he's buried deep, and I feel that hot rush, that flood of sperm filling me up, it's like my body's drinking it in, claiming it. It's not just physical—it's mental, too. Knowing it's not Scott's, knowing it's some other guy's cum marking me, it sends me over the edge. I crave it, that moment when he unloads, when my pussy's stretched full of him when I'm his in a way I'll never be Scott's. My body tells my mind that I was born for this, and I will never get enough.
How I use this to keep Scott down makes it even hotter. He's my husband, sure, but because I have turned this fantasy into a reality, he's nothing in my bed or body. I get wet saying this, but I've taken my body from Scott and given it to other men, and the thought of him knowing it, feeling it, it's such a fantastic turn-on. I love how emasculating it is for him to be sidelined, to know I'm out here spreading my legs for other men, letting them fuck me raw, letting them pump their cum into me while he gets nothing. It's humiliating for him, knowing his wife's pussy is off-limits, reserved for his friends, men who he knows, and even strangers who can make me scream, who can rearrange my insides with their cocks. I picture him sitting at home, maybe hearing me come back late, smelling like sex, and he knows he can't touch me. He's reduced to this guy who pays half the bills, who I smile at politely while I'm out getting fucked on a Jeep hood, my body dripping with another man's sperm. That power, that control—it makes my pussy throb just thinking about it. It's not about hurting him, though I'm sure it does in some ways. His shame boners would say otherwise. It's about owning myself and my desires, and every time I let another man fill me, I'm reminding Scott he's got no claim on me anymore. Letting other people watch me take a man's cock and see it stretch me wide while I make eye contact with them…it just takes it to an even further level for me. I want them to see me turned into a messy brain dead fuck toy simply by being pumped and left full of sperm by a fat dick. It's all I have been thinking about today…I guess it's who I am…who I want to be. Why fight it?
Yesterday was right up my alley and my box. A lot of mud, adrenaline, and sex with cum pumped in all the right places. I met up with Shane for a Jeep Week event. Jeep Week is huge here in Daytona. My pussy was looking forward to this day in a big way. The day before, I’d surprised Shane at his shop, and we’d had this hot-as-fuck kiss, his dick hard against his work pants, my pussy dripping through my shorts. So when I pulled up to his house, I was already hyped up to spread my legs for Shane and whatever else he had planned.
I pulled up in my Jeep, and there he was, standing outside, looking good. Half my age and a body that will make a girl's box wet just looking at it. I got wet just looking at him, my clit pulsing, and I knew we weren’t going to make it to the event without something happening. I hopped out, and he came right for me, laying a deep kiss on me, his hands all over my body, pulling me close and putting my hand on his rock hard cock, pressing through his jeans. That set my pussy on fire, and he knew it. His fingers slipped under my shorts, rubbing my hard clit, fingering my slick hole telling me he wanted to taste me. He took me inside, and we barely got the door shut before he was yanking my shorts down.
I sat on his couch, laid back, and spread my legs wide, my pussy dripping, pretty much begging for him. Shane dove in, head first, his mouth on me, licking and sucking my hole, working my clit until it was big and hard. I was so ready for him to fuck me, my body desperate for his cock. He stood up, jeans off, and his cock was rock-hard, thick, and perfect. He slid it into me, slow at first, and the way it felt—stretching my pussy, filling me up, inch by inch, until he was balls-deep—it was like my insides were shifting, pushing to the side to make room for his dick. I started bucking my hips, grinding against him, and told him to fuck me harder, faster. He did, pounding into me, his cock slamming deep so I could feel his balls slapping against my ass cheeks. He had me so wet I could feel my juices running down, coating his dick, dripping over his balls. It’s such a high getting that sloppy, soaking feeling, my pussy drenching his dick. He was inside me for less than a few minutes before I came so hard I forgot how to talk. A man half my age just fucked me stupid, making me his own personal jizz dump. Shane pumped me for another 5 minutes, giving me several more smaller orgasms before I felt his cock twitch, his balls tighten, and then that hot, silky flood of cum shooting deep inside me. God, I love that feeling—his load, his ball snot, pumping into my hole, filling me up. The second I felt it, I came again, my pussy spasming, milking every drop. Just something about a big load of cum blasting deep in me always makes me lose it.
We basically collapsed on the couch for a few minutes until we could catch our breath. That’s when I thought about my husband, sitting at home while I’m lying around with Shane’s sperm swimming around inside me, and I got that little electric jolt of pleasure thinking how perfect everything was. It inspired me to slide down and take Shane’s dick in my mouth and lick and kiss it clean. It started to grow again, but we had things to do.
We got ourselves together, hopped in Shane’s Jeep, and headed to the Jeep Week event. The four-wheeling was a blast—plowing through mud, bouncing over ruts, tires slinging dirt everywhere. We were laughing, yelling, covered in grime, and the whole time, my tits bouncing all around so that my nips kept slipping out, I didn’t try to hide them. I kept stealing glances at Shane’s body, his muscles flexing as he drove, his jeans still hugging that cock I could still feel inside me. His youthful, fit frame, all lean and hard, kept me turned on, my pussy still tingling from earlier. After the event, we returned to his place, both muddy and hyped. We stripped down and got in the shower together, the hot water pouring over us. His body looked even better wet, all sculpted and tight, and I couldn’t keep my hands off him. He fucked me again, right there in the shower, his cock sliding into my pussy, still hungry for dick. It was slower this time, but just as deep, every thrust making my insides shift, making me feel claimed. When he came, that warm rush of cum filling me up again, I was done for, I came so hard my legs buckled. We sat around, made out a bit, and then I had to get back home. I had things to get done. All in all, it was a good day!
Here's a quick little update before I head out with Shane for some fun, sexy jeep activities amongst other things 🍆💦😜 I will let you know all about my day. Enjoy yours 💋
So today, Scott had to run this errand for our neighbor, following him to the Jeep shop to give him a ride back. Right as he was about to head out the door, I was like, “Hold up, I’m coming with.” No way I’m missing this. Shane works at the shop, and I haven’t seen him in about a week or so. Anyway, I threw on my tiniest daisy dukes, ass cheeks basically hanging out, and a tube top with my nipples barely covered. Hopped in the truck before Scott could even blink. He looked at me, all pathetic, and was like, “Please don’t come.” Too bad for him, Shane’s way more important than he is. Scott should fucking know that by now.
We pull up to the shop, walk in, and the whole damn place freezes. Every mechanic and all the other emolyees, eyes locked on us. They all know I fuck the absolute shit out of Shane every chance I get, and they sure as hell know I’m married to Scott. The way they were staring, it’s gotta be pure agony for Scott, like a punch to the gut he can’t dodge. I’m eating it up, my pussy already tingling just from the vibe. Then I make it worse. I strut right through the “employees only” service door, leaving Scott and his buddy standing there like losers in the customer area. I head straight back to where Shane works, and fuck, the second he sees me, he doesn’t hold back. He grabs me, pulls me into this deep, sexy kiss, and I’m all in, tongue and all, not giving a shit who’s watching. Some of his coworkers are just standing there, eyes wide, as he holds my hands, pressing himself against me. Shane’s already rock-hard—dude gets a boner just from me being near him, kinda like Scott’s shame boners. It’s like their dicks can’t help it, no matter what’s going on in their heads. I fucking love that about both of them.
I’m standing there, Shane’s hands on me, and I’m just soaking in how much he wants me. We make plans for Saturday morning—gonna fuck his brains out, no question. We make out a bit more, his hands grazing my ass, and I’m so turned on I can barely stand it. Eventually, I peel myself away and head back to Scott and his friend, who’s probably got no clue why everyone’s staring at us like we’re a fucking circus. I know why, and it’s got me horny as hell. I try to sneak a peek at Scott’s crotch, wondering if he’s got one of those shame boners he can’t control, but he’s walking ahead of me, hopping in the truck quick before I can tell. Doesn’t matter. The whole scene—Shane’s hands, the stares, Scott stuck knowing he’s second best—it’s got me wet and throbbing, already counting down to Saturday when I’ll have Shane’s cock inside me again.
Today’s is dragging, and I’m pretty sure no dicks are going to be inside me, which is a bummer. I’m with Scott, my husband, and he’s dragging me to his parents’ anniversary party. I’m happy for them but my head’s somewhere else entirely. I know I’ll be standing there smiling at Scotts relatives as they make conversation, and the only thing I’ll be thinking about is Jake. It won’t be easy because the way my body lights up just thinking about him is insane.
Being around Scott’s family, with him right there next to me, acting all proud to have me on his arm, it’s this wild mental fuck. He knows I’m obsessed with Jake. He knows I’m standing there, chatting about some old wedding story, while my mind’s replaying how Jake’s cock feels sliding into me, like it was made for my pussy. Perfect fit, stretching me just right, hitting every spot that makes my eyes roll back. Scott’s got no say in it. Scott knows if he makes me choose it will be Jake. He just accepts it, and that alone makes my clit throb. It’s like, he’s stuck watching me mentally fuck another guy, and he’s still has to hold my hand and play the good husband. I wonder if Scott will have a shame boner. His dick always seems to defy his mind and emotion. Knowing that is a mental rush of power I can’t get enough of.
I’m going to be at the party, nodding along to somebody's story, but I'll be picturing Jake’s hands on me, gripping my hips, pulling me onto him so deep I can feel his dick touch my stomach. I’ll be wet just standing there, my juices just running down my thighs, and Scott will be clueless, or maybe he won’t, but he’s still stuck smiling for the family photo. I’ll keep glancing over at him, knowing he’s trying so hard to be enough for me, but my body’s screaming for Jake’s touch, his tongue, the way he makes me come so hard I forget my own name. It’s fucked up, but it’s such a turn-on, knowing Scott’s right there, surrounded by his family, while I’m lost in this other guy who owns every inch of me.
I'm touching myself, thinking about how I’ll laugh and play nice at the party, maybe even lean into Scott a little for show. But the whole time, I’m thinking about the way Jake looks at me, how he whispers dirty shit in my ear while pounding me, how I’d scream his name. Scott, well…he's part of the scenery, a good friend I sometimes think about when my mind isn't fucking Jake in every way possible. It’s the hottest, most twisted kind of foreplay, and I’m already counting down to when I can see Jake again and make all these thoughts real.
As some of you know who, for whatever reason, read my novels disguised as posts, I left Scott at home last night and went to Jake's place for the evening. Something that has now become a most nights thing. So much so it's not a big deal anymore, Scott knows where I'm going, understands his position in my life now, and neither of us makes a fuss about it.
Look, I'd like to give you a recap of some wild, out-of-this-world sex, but the night before last was different. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He put me on my back, and like a reflex, I spread my legs for him, and his cock slipped into my body and further claimed me as his own, giving me a mind-bending orgasm and successfully shoving Scott further back into the friend zone. Yes, the orgasm was amazing. With Jake, it always is. But, again, the sex was just our usual. I'm not saying it's getting boring. It's not. But I'm starting to find that we don't just fuck anymore. I don't know, it's kind of corny, but sex is now a different experience, and it's making it better each time. The best part of the night, the part that overpowered everything else, wasn’t my orgasm. It was when he came, and I felt his sperm flooding my body. It's hot, it's slick, and I can feel each of his ropes shooting deep inside me. It fills me up to the point it feels like it's pooling up between the head of his dick and my stomach. It's a mental thing as well. It feels like he's claiming it as his. Marking his property, and that turns me on. What really turns me on is, as in hits me very hard sexually, is knowing that I’m getting a part of Jake, a living part of him that leaves his balls and enters me. It's alive, this piece of him, swimming inside me, forcing me to merge with him, and that thought makes me feel very connected to him. It's like he's pumping a part of his life out of his dick into my guts, giving it to me. And oddly enough, that feeling was better than any orgasm I have ever had…this feeling of Jakes cum entering my body, making me his in a way nothing else could. It's funny the power a man's cock and cum has over me. It's also very exciting.
I keep thinking about how I wrapped my legs around him, trying to pull Jake, via his dick, inside of me as deep and as tight as I could when I knew he was going to cum. I locked him against me to keep him as deep in me as possible, and I squeezed his cock with my pussy, trying to get every drop of jizz his testicles had. Again, the sex was amazing, but the only part I'll remember is Jake's dick feeding my body his sperm via my pussy. I can't tell you why that fires me up so much. I don't care why. I just want that fire of feeling his cum inside of me always to be there.
Massage Envy emailed me asking if I have tried a facial yet. Too funny! You're asking if I've tried one. My face is a cum-soaked legend. It has been drenched in thousands of freshly brewed sperm loads—hot, thick, and blasted from hundreds of men's twitching testicles, which is the only kind of facial that counts. Your spa's goopy crap is brewed with who knows what chemicals, and, even worse, there is no way it could be edible! When I get my facials, the best part is scooping that warm, salty jizz off my cheeks and licking every drop off my fingers. I'm going to skip your version of a facial. I'm sticking to guzzling nature's creamiest brew, sucked fresh from a throbbing cockhead. Nothing beats getting the good stuff straight from the source!
I'm getting ready to spend the night with Jake, but first, I'm working Scott over in the most humiliating way I can, and it feels so good I'm sitting in my own juices telling you about it. Earlier today, I was with Jake, sucking him down like I couldn't get enough. And I can't. I love his taste and still had the taste of him on my tongue when I walked into the house to face Scott.
I sat Scott down with Scott on the couch, thinking about what I wanted to say. I know that Scott likes to think this is just a perverse sexual game I can't get enough of, but he's not sure I don't mean it, and I love keeping it that way—keeping him guessing, wondering how much I mean it when I say I love Jake more. I do love Jake, just not the way I love Scott, and that alone is a huge sexual turn-on for me, knowing I've got this deep, steady love for my husband, but Jake is right up there with him, not quite, but close. What really gets me going is reducing Scott to the friend zone, replacing him with Jake as my true lover, and watching him take it. It's hard to explain the satisfaction of knowing that I can fulfill Scott's sexual desires just by falling in love with another man, giving him exactly what he craves without even touching him. I stood over him, my skirt hiked up a little, my thighs still warm from being on my knees for Jake. "I've fallen in love with Jake," I said casually, like it was nothing, watching Scott's face go red. "I want him more than I ever wanted you, Scott—sexually, emotionally, everything. He's my true love now—you're just my friend." The look on his face—shock and defeat—gets me so wet, especially when I see his dick twitch in his pants, a shame boner he can't hide, turned on by the idea that I've replaced him with Jake in every way that matters.
I kept going, wanting to humiliate him, to make it sting so bad it was uncomfortable. And it was. I could feel the tension in the air when I said, "Jake was just a sexual thrill at first, but now he's the man I want, the man I love. He fucks my mouth so good, Scott—his dick fills my throat and shoots his cum down me in ways you can't. You're not my lover anymore—just the guy I used to be with, the friend I keep around." Scott's face burned, his eyes dropping, and I could see his dick getting harder, that shame boner making it so obvious how much this gets to him and that I was doing my part correctly. "Jake's taken your place," I told him, my voice sharp, cutting him down. "He's the one I want, the one I give myself to—my body, heart, everything. You're the friend who gets to hear about it and watch me love him." Every word came out perfect, making sure he knew I was pushing him further into the friend zone, making it clear Jake's my true love now, his shame boner tenting his pants, a humiliating reminder of how I've replaced him, how shameful it is that he loves hearing I want Jake more—and I love how I can make him feel such pain and pleasure by simply falling in love with Jake.
I wanted to drive it home before I left, so I said, "I've got Jake's cum in my belly right now," I said, licking my lips, letting him picture it, his wife sucking the sperm from another man's testicles and then masturbating in front of him because she loved it so much. I said, "He fucked my mouth so good, shot his sperm right down my throat, and I love him for it—love him in ways I'll never love you because you're just my friend." Saying that made my pussy leak so much it was starting to run down my thighs. I couldn't help it. Seeing Scott's face—shame all over him, his dick so hard it was pathetic, and I knew he might cum just from this. "Jake's my man now, and you're nothing but a friend to me, someone I used to fuck but never will again. Right on cue, his dick jerked in his pants, his face glazed over, and I saw it—wet spurts soaking through his pants, his cum leaking out without him even touching himself. His face turned bright red he was so embarrassed. He tried to walk away, but I made him sit there, emasculated, his shame boner betraying how much he gets off on the thought of me wanting Jake more, sexually and emotionally, while I fulfill his deepest desires simply by giving my love to another man.
It felt so good, so alive, to reduce Scott down like that, to tell him Jake's my true love while Jake's sperm was still warm in my belly, knowing Scott came from the shame of being friend zoned. The thrill of it, knowing I do love Jake, even if it's not the same way I love Scott, and using that to mess with Scott's head, watching him break under the humiliation, his dick cumming untouched because I've replaced him with Jake as my lover while keeping him guessing about how much I mean it, all while satisfying his sexual needs just by loving someone else. I left him there, a jizzy mess in his pants, and went into my bedroom to tell you all about it. And now, I'm heading out the door to spend the night with Jake, my pussy annoyingly desperate for dick from the high of it all. Better yet, I can still taste Jakes cum on my tongue, and it's driving me wild.
I walked into Jake's office building today, feeling that rush I always get when I'm there for one thing—getting his cock in my mouth. I knew how I looked, and I dressed for it. I was wearing a tight red shirt that clung to my body, my hard nipples poking right through the fabric, my big tits spilling out with tons of cleavage showing. My tight black skirt was short, hugging my ass, and my black heels, making my legs look long and ready for trouble. I had to walk past his secretary, this pain in the ass frumpy secretary who's made comments to Jake before about how I dress "inappropriate" for their office. I didn't care—I wasn't there for her approval. I was there to work Jake's sperm out of his balls, and knowing she could see me all dressed up to make his dick hard, got me so wet I could feel my pussy starting to flow. It's a massive turn-on, mentally, strutting past her like that, knowing she can't do a thing while I'm about to make her boss cum down my throat.
When I got to Jake's office, his eyes lit up the second he saw me, and how he looked at me made my heart race. He was on a conference call, sitting behind his desk, but the way he looked at me—like I was the only thing in the world that mattered—made me feel so fantastic like I was his and we belonged together. I'm sure Jake knows I can't help but return that same look at him. It's an indescribable feeling, having a man other than my husband want me like that, especially Jake, whom I have learned I have deep feelings for…making me forget I'm married. He muted his call quickly and told me he'd be a bit and sit and wait. I tried, I did, but after five minutes, I got bored, my pussy throbbing just thinking about his dick. I slid over to him and started rubbing his cock through his pants, feeling it get hard under my fingers. He tried to stop me, whispering, "Not now," but I could tell he didn't mean it—his dick was already straining, begging for me, and he couldn't help himself…nor could he stop me.
I unzipped him, pulled it out, and there it was—eight inches, stiff as a rock, thick and veiny, the head already dripping that pre-cum I like so much. I didn't waste time—I got on my knees, took his cock in my mouth. I say this in all honesty…I love the taste of him. It's a salty, musky flavor with a smell that makes my head spin. When his dick hits my tongue, it makes my pussy clench. I swirled my tongue around the head, tasting that pre-cum, then slid him deep, letting his shaft fill my mouth, stretching my lips as I sucked him down. His balls were heavy, hanging there, and I grabbed them, rolling them in my hand, feeling how full they were, ready to unload. I love the feel of his cock—smooth but hard, feeling his pulse against my tongue and his balls, perfect to hold, firm and round like they are full and dying for me to drain them. I was so turned on, my massive clit was rock-hard, throbbing, and I reached under my skirt, rubbing my clit, feeling how swollen it was, wet and slick as I kept sucking him.
Jake tried to make me stop—he was flustered on his call, having trouble finding his words as he tried to talk business, but I didn't care. I needed to feed on his sperm, needed to taste him, to have him fill me up. I kept eating his dick, bobbing my head, my lips tight around him, my tongue flicking the underside as I sucked harder, faster, my hand squeezing his balls. He couldn't hold back—I felt his cock twitch, his balls tighten, and then he was cumming, feeding me his load. It was hot thick, shooting into my mouth in heavy spurts, coating my tongue with that salty, creamy taste I crave. I swallowed it, feeling it slide down my throat, warm and thick, running into my belly like a fine lunch, the best meal I'd had in a week. I milked him for every drop, sucking until he was empty, his cum settling in my stomach, making me feel full, satisfied, but even more turned on than I was when I walked into his office.
I couldn't help myself. I needed to cum, and my pussy was dripping, so I spread my legs right there on Jake's office floor, hiked my skirt up, and fingered myself while he watched. I was so wet. My fingers slid right in, my massive clit throbbing as I rubbed it, my other hand pumping inside me, fucking myself hard, making my pussy make wet slurping noises while Jake's eyes stared at me the entire time. I could see his dick starting to get fat again, swelling in his pants, but he whispered he couldn't break away from the call. It didn't matter. I thought about how hot I looked on my knees, a married woman sucking another man's cock, and I came. It was a long, intense cum that took all I had not to scream. I could see Jake was nervous that I would. But I'm a good girlfriend…I stayed as quiet as possible and sat on the floor of his office, pussy leaking girl jizz, just trying to get my head back. He walked over and kissed me intensely, making sure I knew I was the woman he needed and saying he needed me to stay the night with him. I told him I could—I can't say no to him. He's my man now, has been for some time, and the way he wants me, the way his cock tastes, the way his sperm feels in my belly—it's everything I need, more than my husband could ever give me.
