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BIG HEAVY BREATHS
If you Never Read Another Story On Tumblr You Wanna Read This True Story! Â
When my GF and I are on vacation we sometimes role play that she is a model and I am a photographer. Â It allows her to fulfill her exhibitionist fantasies without shame. Â Sometimes quite a crowd will gather and watch our shoots. Â On one occasion an actual photographer was watching. Â I thought he was just some horny guy getting off on the shoot, but my GF told me he approached her while I was changing lenses and said, âthis moron is a shitty photographer. He doesnât know what the fuck he is doing. Â If you want a set of free professional shots meet me by the pool in the morning.â Â He then gave her his business card. Â We spent all night discussing whether she should meet him. Â We fucked while fantasizing about him touching her body and seeing her naked. Â I know she really wanted to do it because she kept saying how cool it would be to get professional photos. Â I also noticed how wet she got when I talked her through how the guy would try to fuck her. Â She came hard that night every time I pushed that button. Â As much as she didnât want to reveal to me she was hot for that cock, she couldnât help it. Â The next morning came and it was awkward. Â I think we bot had butterflies wondering what was gonna happen. Â It almost felt like we didnât have a choice, but that it was destined or some shit.
I was torn.  Part of me wanted her to go.  i wanted that feeling of erotic helplessness wondering if she was sucking his cock or worse riding his cock.  I wanted to jerk off during those uncertain hours knowing it could really be happening.  On the other hand, sheâs my fucking girl and Iâm supposed to be a man who protects her from assholes like that guy.  I asked her what she wanted.  She said there is no way she should go meet some strange guy who could be dangerous, but at the same time the fear was intriguing to her.  She said every time she seriously contemplates going she gets warm and a little short of breath.  We decided to go walk by the pool to see if he was there.  Sure enough he was having a drink on a lounger sipping a cocktail.  I saw my GF looking over in his direction.  Her nipples were rock hard and clearly visible through her bikini.  My cock started to get hard watching her body react.  Finally, I said , âfuck it.  Do it.  Itâs just a few photos and it will all be done poolside.â  She tried to seem hesitant but her eyes gave away her excitement.  She asked, âare you sure?â  I said, â I am sure but just make sure you donât go anywhere with him and Iâll be watching from a distance.â  My  stomach hollowed out as I watched her slowly walk off in his direction.  Her feminine instincts must have taken over because it seemed to me that as she approached her hips started bouncing like I hadnât seen before.  I saw the guy turn and look directly at her tits then he put his hand on the small of her back and ushered her to seat. Â
I watched as they drank several cocktails. Â Several couples who had seen us together strolled by and looked confused to see her with another guy. Â One person even made small talk with her before walking away. Â After 30 mins. I decided to go back to the room to get my phone. Â I wanted to text her discreetly to see what was going on. Â The guy hadnât so much looked in the direction of his camera the whole time. Â I grabbed my phone but to my horror when I returned they were gone. Â WTF. Â I was only gone for about 10 minutes. Â I checked the area. Â Nothing. Â I sent a text, âwhere are you?â Â No response. Â I began to worry. Â My mind started racing and my imagination was drawing me into dark sexual imagery. Â This was no time for my cock to be harder than it had ever been since I was 16, but it was. Â I walked the whole property with a hard cock. Â More than once I noticed female guests staring at the bulge in my shorts. Â I was to worried to be embarrassed. Â Finally, I got a response to my message âOMG are you watching baby?â Â Watching what? Â WTF!!!! Â Okay I thought it sounds like sheâs okay but she thinks Iâm watching. Â If she thinks Iâm watching and not intervening then she thinks I approve of whatever is happening. Â I send another text, âUmmm, no. Â I lost sight of you. Â where are you? Is everything okay?â Â The wait was excruciating. Â Why didnât she text back right away? Â My imagination responded, âsheâs getting fucked thatâs why.â No no no no no. Â Finally 30 minutes later I got a text from an unknown number. Â âI hope I didnât stretch her out too much for you mate. Â Sheâll be back in your room by the time you get there. Â By the way, I âm not a photographer but I left a few pics for you on her phone. Â LOL. Â Your girl is a real hot piece of ass, and based on what she told me you need to stop jerking off to Tumblr so much and fuck her like the slut she is. Â In fact donât tell her about this text. Â Test her and see if she tells you what really happened.â
I rushed back to our room and sure enough my GF was there in the shower.  I tried to play cool still sporting a boner.  I asked âso what  happened?â There was a pause. It  was only a few seconds but it felt like forever.  I so wanted the truth.  I mean fuck it I already knew.  The only thing left was whether she respects me enough to tell the truth.  She said âOh it was nothing.  You didnât miss anything. We started off with a few cocktails.  He said it was to loosen me up then we just walked the property taking a few pictures here and there.â  I said, âOh, I mustâve missed you because i walked around but didnât see you.  Can I see the pics?â  She said, âUmm yeah itâs weird you got lost.  I donât have the pics yet but he said he would email them in a few days.â  Nothing scandalous she said.
I was crushed but I tried to hide my disappointment. Â I think she could sense that something was wrong. Â She said, âbabe I promise it was fine. Â I would never do anything to hurt you.â Â As she disappeared into the bathroom I reached for her phone and sure enough the evidence was plain as day. Â She probably doesnât even know these are on here I thought. Â I sent copies to myself, for what reason i didnât know. Â (Later I would secretly jerk off to those pictures countless times.) Â I deleted all traces from her phone. Â
We had lunch by the pool.  She wore my favorite bikini to try to cheer me up.  It was basically a g string which framed her perfect ass just right.  She caused quite a stir as she walked around the pool.  It wasnât exactly a family friendly suit.  After a few dips in the pool she told me she was gonna take a hot yoga class being offered in the gym after dinner.  She invited me knowing I hate yoga.   After dinner she went off to her class and i sat in the room contemplating what happened.  I started blaming myself for taking our games too far.  After all I told her Iâd be watching.  I was looking for any and every way to absolve her from responsibility.  Just as I was starting to come to terms with what happened and deciding to just throw the bone in the closet with other skeleton parts, I got a text from that unknown number.  The text read,â Did she tell you the truth?â  I texted back, âNo.â  He wrote back, âyou fell for that hot yoga bullshit? I told her to use that as an excuse if she wanted to see me later.â  WTF!!!  I shot back, âWTF is going on?â  He responded. âLOL, lets just say she wanted some more big cock.  Sounds like you two need to talk.â  I was devastated but strangely my cock got rock hard again.  I ran over to the gym and found out it closed hours ago and they offered no yoga classes.  as I walked back to our room, my phone rang.  it was his number.  When I brought the phone up to my ear I could hear sounds of  moaning and loud slaps.  Then I heard a male saying, âYou like this cock slut?  You like cheating on your boyfriend?  My GFâs voice responded âYeah, i love your cockâ over and over between big heavy breaths.
The text said, âHave to stay late again, honey.â
Who does this?
Weeks ago, I stumbled upon a term while watching porn. Cuckquean. Interesting. I did some research, watched a few more videos and instantly knew that this resonated with me on a deep level. Never have I gotten so turned on by something Iâve fantasized about. Never have I wanted, with such intensity, to make a fantasy into a reality. So, for the last few weeks, this has been my go-to search term when Iâm getting frisky with myself.Â
Like with everything, what cuckqueaning means to me is a little different than what it may mean to someone else. For me, I donât want to watch my husband fuck someone else as much as I want to HEAR him fuck someone else. The moans, the squeaking mattress, the random bangs against the wall. HOT! HOT! HOT! Last week, his girlfriend came to stay with us for a few days. As I was trying to sleep in the next room, I thought that I heard them getting busy in the next room (which they donât really do when Iâm home). I was instantly wet. I cracked my door in hopes of hearing more clearly, but that didnât work. I also put my ear to the wall that I share with their headboard. Still nothing. :( Oh well. I crawled back into bed and pulled out my phone and vibrator. Thinking about them in the next room made me cum so hard that I texted my husband and told him about it. I told him how I tried to listen and how powerful my orgasm was.Â
The next morning I awoke just as horny as I had been the previous night. I sleepily reached for my vibrator and began to slowly tease myself. a few moments later he came into my room and pounced me. Unfortunately for me, he didnât read my text until after they had quietly had their morning session. I was promised more of a show the next time she stays the night.
Fast forward a week. Here we are. Iâve thought over and over about how hot it would be to hear them going at it. Many day and nights this week I have played scenarios out while we mutually masturbated. He thinks itâs hot, which makes me even more turned on. Today he and I were chatting and decided that when he goes to stay with her tonight he is going to secretly call me and place his phone on the nightstand so that I can hear every dirty thing they do. He also told me to keep my phone close because she likes to wake him up in the middle of the night for another round. EEK!!! I am so fucking excited! I have all of my favorite toys prepped and ready next to my bed, a towel for cleanup, and my headphones to I can work hands-free. I canât wait to hear how much she enjoys my husband and his many talents. ;)
Exactly THIS!!!!!! đđđ thereâs even a pic in our tagged me where I was dying listening in another room. I love seeing more and more queans on tumblr. â¤ď¸
want to meet girls around you download the HER appÂ

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Little Home Wrecker By Phil Phantom
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. Â The author does not condone the described behavior in real life in any way shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of the scenarios in this story; Â should seriously consider seeking professional help. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The bed rocked gently but steadily as I lay curled on my side next to my husband of fourteen years. Â He lay likewise, but in the opposite direction. Â We were back to back, not touching. Â The situation had become familiar, painfully so. We were not alone in our bed. Â Curled up spoon fashion with Dan was our twelve-year-old daughter, Sarah. Â Dan sleeps in the nude, as does Sarah. Â The rocking gra- dually built in tempo and intensity until it could not be ignored. Â In weeks past they would not permit them- selves to lose control and waited mercifully until they thought I was fast asleep. Â Each time, they began earlier and became more obvious until I found myself being gently rocked shortly after retiring and rudely jostled after only ten or fifteen minutes. I lay with tightly clenched jaws having to feel the rhythm of sexual passion slowly building; having to hear the obscene wet noises and the bed's cry of, "Fuck! Â Fuck! Â Fuck!" Â I had to smell the heavy sensual musk wafting up from under the covers. It was the heady smell of incest that prevented sleep. The product of our love which gestated in my womb now stealing that love ounce by ounce, and doing so within arm's reach, doing so with a voracious appetite that left nothing for me, not a seminal scrap did she leave. As I lay thinking, I remembered the days of bounty, when that special fluid ran like ambrosia from an endless spring. Â I could feast at my whim and often choose to abstain. Â I had semen to waste. Â I had head- aches on demand, and the bed rocked to the rhythm of his hand. Â He cleaned the waste or slept in the stain. There was semen aplenty for me when I pleased. Â Those were the good old days of months ago, before Sarah returned to her childhood practice of sharing our bed. And now I kept track on a private calendar, marking the days between. It was sweet revenge, plain greed, or just selfish need, but the endless sperm fountain was drying up for me. Â In our early years, I never went more than three days without sex. Â At first, the days between came in batches of three and four, then five and six, then full weeks. Â The latest was the first full month, an anniversary of sorts. Â They'd grown careless or just plain insensitive over time. Â I wanted to roll over, reach between Dan's legs, squeeze his balls, dig my nails in deep, and say, "Happy anniversary, dear!" I rolled onto my back to let them know I was not asleep. Â My bare hip touched Dan's naked ass. Â This slowed him only momentarily. Soon, I could feel his ass muscles tighten and move, I could feel his thrusts, feel them fucking, committing incest in my marital bed. He knew I was awake; and still, he continued unabated. I rolled all the way over and pressed my front to his back. Â He ignored my presence, the bastard. Â I rested my hand on his hip and dug my nails where I gripped. He removed my hand with a stronger grip, never breaking his rhythm. Â He thrust it away, overt rejection. This hurt me deeply. Â I returned my hand, gently, sub- missively, and rested it lightly where it had been. My hand followed his motion as I snuggled closely bringing my lips to his ear. Â In a gentle, soft whisper, I pleaded, "Dan, don't do this to me." He continued. Â I said, "This is wrong. Â She's just a child. She's our daughter." Â As if in reply, his thrusts became stronger, going deeper, a moan escaped her lips, a moan that should have been mine. My hand moved ever so carefully over his hip and dipped low, searching. Â I steadily converged on the point where the crime was being committed. Â His lunges pushed my hand against Sarah's tight little ass, my wedding ring lightly scratched her flawless skin. Â The warm wetness told me I was close, wet curls, then a shaft of pulsing meat. Â I curled my fingers around the base and he shoved them against my daughter's stretched vulva. Â Again and again he insulted my grasp, fucking major fingers to a minor cunt. I squeezed gently, massaging the shaft, feeling the loose skin slide along the stiff rod beneath. Â Sarah, the slut, hiked her leg to let me know that she was aware of my complicity. Â How could she not with her father's hands full of budding tits. Â I unfurled my traitorous fingers and traced delicate patterns over her labia lips, clit, and tiny puckered anus. Â My index finger ran circles around the place where father entered daughter. Â Dan rolled them toward me until she was lying on his belly on her back. Â I had to make room. Sarah yawned wide her sweet thighs, and I replaced my hand coming in from above. Â Dan used his to slide her by the tits, making her body rock onto his turgid manhood. Â My fingers felt it all, and teased the unholy union. Â Dan pulled the covers over my head. The aroma of sex made me woozy. Â I pushed up on my right arm, making a tent of our bedding over the site of infidelity. Â On and on, they rocked, pouring out their wetness on my hand, assaulting my nostrils with lusty scent. Â A manly hand clenched a handful of hair at the back of my head and squeezed. Â Pressure bent my head down. My lips touched Sarah's moist and tawny skin above her navel, tasting her salty sweetness. Â My lips planted tender kisses wherever the pressure directed. Â The pressure pushed me lower and my kisses covered tiny hairs, curly hairs, hairs divided by a valley, then silky-smooth hot membrane flesh, then a shaft of man meat on the move. Â Still, I kissed the place where father and daughter merged. Â I kissed the place where a husband violates his vow. Â I kissed the place where I should have been by every law of nature and society. I kissed away my rights. Those kisses became licks. Â Those licks became sucks. The licking and sucking continued after the hand went away. Â They continued long after Dan's seed shot down the tube. Â They continued after he pulled out. Â They continued until I drank ambrosia from a new well. The licking and sucking continued as the second monthly anniversary rolled around. Â They continued through the third, fourth, and fifth. Â Everything changed after that eventful night. The lights came on, the covers were tossed off. Â Love making between them began with my tongue teasing both. Â I became their instrument of foreplay. Â My tongue followed them throughout the act and cleaned them afterwards. Â I drank the seminal and vaginal ambrosia until I thought I would burst. Â No headache could relieve me of my duties. When the calendar showed six weeks, I became moody, bitchy, and depressed. Â I confronted my husband with my needs, my rights, my rightful place in our family. I threatened to cheat. Â I threatened divorce. He threatened divorce as well, on the grounds that I abused my daughter, offering her to men for money to support my drug habit. I was appalled, especially when Sarah confirmed her testimony. Â I recoiled and shrank back. Â That afternoon, Sarah wanted my things out of the master bedroom. Â I spent the afternoon making the move, putting her shit where my stuff was, and putting my stuff where her shit was. Â Her small bedroom became my bedroom. Â The master bedroom was where the masters slept. Sarah enjoyed her new status as queen of the house. She never lifted a finger. Â I was her personal servant. She did not even bathe or attend her own toilet. Â I even wiped her ass. Â Dan enjoyed watching Sarah putting me through my paces. Â He delighted in watching her apply his belt to my ass, thighs, or breasts for the slight- est infraction, or simply to amuse herself. Â No pride remained to celebrate the second month. On the third, I licked a pregnant cunt. Â On the first anniversary of their unholy union, my daughter pre- sented me with a baby to look after. Â She nursed me and the baby at her breasts. Sometimes, I nursed at her clit while the baby had her breasts. My life continued in this strange way until she moved away. Â She left us with three kids to raise. Â She ran off to see the world with a sailor. Â Dan let me move back into the master bedroom, but made it clear there was only one master there. Â Sarah's oldest just turned eleven and she climbed into our bed last night. Â I started a new calendar.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. Â The author does not condone the described behavior in real life in any way shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of the scenarios in this story; Â should seriously consider seeking professional help. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The Rationalization Imperative byClosetQueanŠ (found on literotica.com)
He'd woken up abruptly -- completely aroused, his dick harder than carbon steel. What he'd thought was just an awesome dream was not a dream at all. Looking down, there actually WAS a sweet young thing crouched between his thighs. And the lovely angel was feasting on his manhood like a ravenous whore. He risked a quick look at his wife. She was still sleeping, her back to him just a half a foot away. Evidently, the movement of the mattress when the girl had crawled into bed with them hadn't woken her up. Nor had the throaty murmurs of arousal that thrummed his cock so wondrously. His wife was sleeping the sleep of the dead, he thought. He relaxed a bit and let himself enjoy the attentions being focused upon his cock. He hadn't had a blow job this good in ages -- the little bitch's mouth was hot and slick, and the flicking of her tongue across the head of his cock was driving him wild. A groan escaped his lips. Then another. The pleasure washed over him in waves. He reached his hands down and entangled his fingers in her fine, silky hair. He looked down and watched the pink lips slide down his stiff shaft, engulfing him in slippery heat. He could feel the head of his cock being squeezed by her throat muscles for a moment before her mouth slid back upwards. She ran her tongue around and around the sensitive tip. "Yeah, like that...yeah, suck on the head a little harder...what a good little cocksucker you are..." he rasped. "Mmm-hhhhmmm..." she murmured, her mouth full. The bed moved beneath himâ,his wife was stirring. He grabbed the girl's head and held her still, his cock halfway in her mouth. He waited, motionless, for almost a full minute, but there was no further movement. She must have gone back to sleep. Slowly, he pushed the girl's head down until his cock was forced down into her throat. He heard her moan. He released her head and let her continue. In moments, the pleasure became almost unbearable. He needed to fuck. He needed to feel her cunt wrapped around his cock. He slipped his cock from her mouth and pulled her upwards until the inside of her thighs pressed against the outside of his, then he quickly rolled her toward the middle of the bed. She lay spread out on her back beneath him, and he lowered his lips to suckle the puffy, rosy nipples atop her small, perfectly formed breasts, one after the other. He felt her reach down and grasp his pulsing shaft, guiding it, until the head nestled within her slick folds. He thrust himself deep inside her, hard. Her heavy-lidded eyes widened and a gasp escaped her parted lips. He couldn't believe how incredibly tight and hot and wet her pussy felt. He began fucking her in earnest, making sure his strokes were deliberate, powerful and deep. The banging of the headboard, the creaking of the bedsprings, the thrill of her moans filled the room. He groaned loudly as he emptied himself into her and collapsed atop her, breathing heavily. After a few minutes, he raised himself up onto his elbows and looked at the lovely face beneath him. Their eyes locked. Her lips curved upward in a smile. "I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay here for the school term...it is so sweet of you and Auntie Emily," she said earnestly, her voice breathy. Auntie, the girl -- Caitlyn -- had said, referring to her aunt. Her Auntie Emily. I am her uncle. Her Uncle John; Emily is my wife. Wife. John's heart leaped into his throat. His overwhelming lust, his need to drive his cock in and out of that hot little cunt, had driven all thought of his wife completely out of his head. When he thought about it, he realized that the powerful need to penetrate and plunder that young flesh had overcome all else. Slowly, he turned his head to check on his wife. Emily had rolled over on her side, and was lying motionless, with her face toward them. She was awake, he saw, and was staring at them, shaking her head slowly, back and forth. as if in slow motion. Her hand was pressed tightly to her lips. Her eyes were wide and glistened wetly, he could see, even though the room was dark save for the moonlight spilling through the windows. Slowly and silently, so as not to startle her, he raised himself up from his niece. His cock emerged from the girl's body with an abrupt, wetly slurping plop. His wife turned away. He cursed inwardly. "Go get us something to drink," he told his niece. "And give us a few minutes to talk, okay?" "Okay," she whispered. She slid out of bed and walked (gloriously naked, he thought) out of the bedroom. He got up and sat down on the edge of the bed. He put a finger beneath her chin and turned her face to his. The movement caused a single tear to spill from her eye and slide down her cheek. It landed, hotly, on his finger. "Don't cry," he said. "You wanted her here; she's here." "Yes, but -- " his wife began to protest. "But, what? I didn't try to get into her pants. SHE jumped into bed with me. While I was asleep. I didn't know what I was doing until it was too late," he explained, gently. "Yes, but -- " she began, but he stopped her. "But nothing. What's been done can't be undone. What's been fucked can't be unfucked," he said. "I know, but -- " she started, before he interrupted her again. "To be honest, I don't want to unfuck her, either," he said, looking at her meaningfully. He could see the realization of his words dawn in her eyes. "Oh, no, you don't mean that -- " Emily said. "Oh, yes, I DO mean that," he said. "You want to keep fucking her? In our home? Oh my God, John, she's so young...! And our own flesh and blood...!" her voice rose shrilly. "Not "want." I WILL keep fucking her. Maybe partly because she IS so young. And, you know she's your sister's daughter. Not of my blood," he said, evenly. "But -- but -- " his wife stammered, disbelievingly. "If you're worried about me and you, don't. I love you. Always have. I need you. Always will," he reassured her. "Then why -- " she asked. "Why?" he echoed. "Because of this." He grabbed his wife's hand and placed it on his cock. It was still wet from her niece's pussy. It was sticky. His wife made a face of disgust and tried to yank her hand away, but couldn't wrest it from his grip. Instead, she felt him press his manhood against her palm and wrapped her fingers around its thickness. "I've been thinking about this for a while now," he said. ""A man is driven to fuck. The mere act of seeding women, of propagation of the species, is why we exist. There's actually a term for it -- "biological imperative." Whatever the scientific gobbledygook, all I can say is that fucking increases my feelings of potency, purpose and power. It makes me feel like a man." Emily was thinking deeply, eyes still fixed upon his erection, her head nodding unconsciously. "You HAVE put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?" she asked. "Oh, yes, yes I have. I have been faithful to you, Emily. I've felt frustrated over the years. I thought about fucking other women a lot. But, I didn't. I felt guilty for wanting them. So, I read up on how males and females are biologically wired. I didn't feel so guilty after that. But I still didn't fuck around. "Who did you want to fuck?" Emily asked, hurt. "What? Oh, shit, everyone and anyone. Women who looked good. Women I saw on the street. Women at work. But I stayed faithful to you. But, NOW I've gotten a taste of just how good it feels to fuck, there's no way I can not fuck her. I'm a man. Older, yes. But still, a man. And really, if men were made to fuck just one woman, then we shouldn't look at other women, we shouldn't be able to get hard for other women, we shouldn't be horny for other women. But I look at other women, my cock was hard as steel tonight, and I'm horny as hell to fuck her the second she gets back into the room. There's the proof," he said, gesturing toward his penis. Emily opened her hand to reveal his manhood. It was almost completely erect, it's thickness and its length perceptibly increasing with each pulse of blood within its veins. His wife, he noticed, seemed unable to tear her eyes away from the sight. It was magnificent. John stood up. His cock bobbed in front of Emily's face, its stickiness drying into a cracked sheen, still smelling of the mixed cocktail of pussy juice and cum. "This is how my cock is going to be for a while. Hard, Wet. Sticky. Smelling like other women's cunts. Not just your niece's cunt, but whatever cunt I've just fucked," he said, gravely. "Historically, that's how it's always been, hasn't it?" she asked, more to herself than him. "Pretty much. Handmaidens, slaves, concubines, harems, captive wives..." "I see, like Abraham and Jacob and all those stories," she added, thoughtfully. "You'll have to get used to me fucking, get used to my cock smelling of other women. I'm going to fuck whenever I can, wherever I want, and whomever I desire," he told her. "I think I'm beginning to understand," she said, quietly. "I believe it'll make me a better man for you, I really do. Do you think you can deal with this?" "Yes," she whispered. "I think so. Maybe it'll make me a better woman for you, too." "It'll put you in your place," he stated, flatly. "Yes, in my place," she repeated, her hand between her legs. At that moment, Caitlyn walked in with a pitcher of lemonade in her left hand and three glasses in her right hand. She placed them on the night stand and then stretched out on the other side of the bed. (title) The Rationalization Imperative, or, I Seed, Therefore, I AM John looked at the young, firm flesh and felt his cock twitch and impossibly, harden even more. He placed the tip of his throbbing member against Emily's lips. "Clean the fuck off my cock, wife," John demanded. Emily hesitated, then opened her lips and sucked the entire length of him into her mouth. John was surprised to see his wife puzzle over the taste in her mouth for just a moment before she threw herself into her task almost feverishly. "You like it, don't you," he said, knowingly. Her head nodded, bobbing on his flesh. "Make it wet...I need my cock inside of Caitlyn..." he told her, his eyes roving up and down the nubile flesh awaiting his pleasure. After just a few more seconds, John whispered, "Good girl...," and pulled his cock from her lips abruptly . Emily watched as, quick as a flash, her husband spread the girls thighs and shoved his spittle-slick cock deeply inside the moaning teen beneath him with a satisfied grunt. Emily's finger circled her clit furiously as she watched her husband's frenzied fuck, his unbridled lust. She stared until she felt her climax erupt, then closed her eyes as the pleasure washed down over her, over and over. She laid herself back down, weak and quivering on the bucking mattress, until the dark of sleep claimed her. She opened her eyes to find John kneeling over her face, his deflated cock glistening with their fluids and reeking mightily of musky fuck. "You're so very good to me..." she whispered as he placed his manhood to her lips. Emily opened her mouth to receive him.
My whoreish ex makes me cum
My high school gf and I were virgins when we met. We fucked for years, she started fucking my neighbor. She was 17Â 18. He was mid 20s. When I found out I was crushed. Later on she told me he had a big cock and she was all over it. He taught he to swallow and take it deep. Yep she told me this a year after. These days when Iâm stroking it I think back to how hot it would have been to see her take that big cock. I get so hard and cum so hard
Good boy ..
The text said, âHave to stay late again, honey.â
Fucking taken women
There is nothing - NOTHING - that gets me off harder than fucking taken women. Girlfriends, wives, fiancĂŠes. As long as she is in a relationship, it makes me hard.
What a feeling of power to claim what should be his; that smug, gloating feeling of victory as I hold her ankles by her ears and plow into her âcommittedâ pussy.
Nothing like it. Heightened when we do it on his pillow in his bed.
Who agrees?

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22/09/2015
Iâm definitely not as careful as I used to be. In the early days, when I first began to see men beyond N, my husband, I lived in a perpetual state of delirium, half fearful, half thrilled. I would hurry back from liaisons and douse myself in a scalding hot bath, taking care to dull the pained ache between my legs and all scent of sex and other men from my hair and clothes. I would only meet others when I knew NÂ to be preoccupied, I would leave everything with possible incriminating connotations in the second drawer of my desk in my office - receipts, credit card bills, gifts from admirers, certain sets of lingerie, condoms. I even kept a spare change of clothes and shower set in my locker at my gym so, more often than not, I could shower and hide sex-stained clothes there if I thought NÂ was already waiting at home.Â
It was all a waste of time. N never even imagined to be suspicious.Â
It is rather bizarre, really, this sort of never-ending implicit trust.
I am no longer as diligent. Once, a man choked me hard as he came - I remember the strange pleasure, very new to me at the time, of panic combined with the euphoria of his sinewy muscles tightening as he emptied himself in me, the burn of his hands around my neck coinciding with the contraction of his balls. N easily bought my lie about my scarf being caught in the Tube doors and was sweet to me for days afterwards. A - my only consistent extramarital partner for the past three years - no longer wears a condom with me. On one occasion, I arrived home to a needy N. I let him make love to me and in the dark, he did not notice the white remnants of Aâs cum I could not quite clean being dragged out from deep inside me by my husbandâs penis. The list goes on. Another time, he saw mints from the Shangri La Hotel in my bag - the reminder of a liaison with an ex-client, a hedge fund manager whom I advised in subscribing to a new  venture capital fund - he immediately assumed a client meeting and asked me what it was like inside.Â
Irrationally, this belligerence sometimes irritates me. I suspect that, even after nearly ten years of married life, he still sees me as the seventeen year old girl who married him to get away from a miserable home. I am not. I am a woman - a beautiful, successful one at that. I know I am desirable - I choose to dress in such a way that invites admiring male gazes, with sharp pencil skirts and designer suits tailored to accentuate my waist. More than once have I been propositioned while is N by my side. The surprise of my firmâs corporate clients, those well coiffed, well-suited bankers with their polished shoes and obnoxious briefcases when I introduce N at our Christmas party as my husband is palpable. Their eyes slide from me, to him, a mundanely good-looking casually attired man who earns less in a year than they receive in a single bonus and they chuckle a little in disbelief. Yet, he feels none of their snides, jovially introducing himself and chatting about the tribulations of his job as a transport manager.
I cannot help, sometimes, when I look at him, but feel embarrassed.Â
Bad Roommate
So I just spent the morning driving one of my roommates to the drug store to get Plan B. Last night she fucked some random guy and the condom broke. Her BF is coming over in a few hours for the superbowl LOL. When i asked her if she felt bad about it she said âWeâre in college, YOLO.â and then she was like âI guess Iâll have to give [the BF] an extra good blowjob tonight to make up  for it.â
Hot little blurb I saw on here today...
My hubby is a happy boy today!
He got himself a hot, fresh piece of pussy last night at the party. Sheâs really cute; brunette, blue eyes, sweet little body. Weâd seen her at one of the previous parties. And⌠he was the first guy to fuck her, which was double exciting for him.
He was gushingâŚ

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40 Thoughts Youâll Have While Dry Humping Your Girlfriend
This is so funny but so right hahah made by : Kitschmix.com
1. Sheâs literally just rubbing herself against my butt right now.
2. This doesnât really do anything for me.
3. Oh wait, that moan in my ear does a little something.
4. If I moan back maybe sheâll fondle my boobs.
5. OK, sheâs way more excited than I am â boob fondling is not the business.
6. For the love of all that is holy, please stop humping my butt.
7. Maybe if I roll over, sheâll hump my front instead.
8. Oh yes â now sheâs on top of me.
9. Wait, why did she slow down?
10. Is she about to finish?
11. Nope, youâre not getting off if I canât get off.
12. Sheâs trying to undo my pants. Do I let her?
13. She started teasing, so she should definitely keep teasing for a while.
14. Screw this, teasing sucks.
15. Wait⌠Teasing isnât so bad after all.
16. Is it bad that I want her to beg for it?
17. Crap⌠Iâm about to beg for it.
18. LOL, I can feel how wet she is.
19. Can she feel how wet I am right now?
20. Well, she definitely noticed â and for some reason felt the need to comment on it.
21. Why is someone grinding against me so sexy?
22. That face she just made isnât very sexy, though.
23. But that moan definitely was.
24. Canât we just get to business already?
25. Note to self: I am a classy lady.
26. Second note to self: Dry humping doesnât make me feel very classy.
27. Dry humping makes me feel like a teenager.
28. Did I dry hump when I was a teenager?
29. I definitely dry humped my first girlfriend.
30. I wonder what sheâs doing now.
31. No â stop! Donât think about your ex right now!
32. Didnât she eventually decide she was straight though?
33. Didnât really seem so straight when she was pressed against me.
34. This dry humping thing isnât really doing it â maybe if I take off my pants, itâll work better.
35. I repeat: I am a classy lady.
36. Classy ladies donât take off their pants right away.
37. But classy ladies donât dry hump either.
38. Why canât we be classy and still have lots of sex?
39. Why am I not having sex right now?
40. Screw it â letâs have sex.
lol, Being a man readng this POV of two women was pretty entertaining.