4 comments/ 56600 views/ 20 favorites Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 01 By: NonStopFunGuy 1. The Ad: I'm Melanie. I'm a 30 year old, married slut who cheats on her husband almost daily, if not even more often than that, because he can't come close to satisfying me and I can't possibly get enough cock anyway. This is another entry in my memoirs. At the time I'm writing this, I've got about eight to ten guys who I count as "boyfriends" -- guys I fuck somewhat regularly. I decided to write down how I got here -- the doting, boring suburban housewife to the cheating, cock-loving little bitch that I know I am -- because I know how impressed many guys are with me. I've done some really, ridiculously naughty things. Really depraved, outrageous things. Two years ago, before all this started, I barely even had fantasies about some of the things I've done. I can't get enough attention from hung, sexy men (and hot ladies too!). I want every reader of this to crave me, as much as I crave the men in my life. Don't you want me? My petite 125 pound frame, my long dark hair and slender, triangular face, my hot small ass, my gorgeous C-cup tits. I'm here for you, baby, are you man enough to please me, hmm? So go on, grab your dick (or jam your fingers in your twat), read on and I hope you get off as hard as I have! * * * * (This happened starting a year and a half ago, it was around early December, if I recall correctly.) Pausing gingerly on the front edge of my bed, I stared emptily at the little black plastic machine pointed at me a few feet away. It was only a small camera, with a timer set to take a photograph in a few seconds. But really, it was so much more. It was a big mistake, part of me whispered in my pretty little head. Another voice said it was just fun, just something new to fill this suburban boredom. I was either crossing a forbidden line, or I was just doing something whimsical without significance. Or it was all of that, at the same time. How did one smart guy put it to me, after some deep discussions following multi-hour cybersex one afternoon? It was like a cat in a box, it was both dead and alive, both at once. I didn't get it (some kind of physics reference), but, maybe that's what this is like. Both a good idea and a horrible idea, at once. Distracted by my thoughts, I didn't get ready in time and the camera clicked with a photograph that was hardly flattering. I knew that was going to happen, I told myself. I got off the bed, adjusted my outfit, set the timer again, and jumped back to nestle on the front edge of the bed. My nipples were aching, straining inside my slutty little outfit. Perched in front of the camera, I was wearing a see-through black bra and matching lacy black g-string thong, with a black choker around my thin neck, a huge cubic zirconium "diamond" over my Adam's apple for some sparkle. My long, dark-brown hair was brushed full, falling a few inches past my bony shoulders. I had applied dark eyeliner around my wide blue eyes and thick, cum-fuck-me red lipstick on my slender lips. My C-cup tits felt even larger, held upright by the slutty lingerie, my big, pink nipples somewhat visible through the black lacy fabric. The thong dug into my asscrack, the lacy front panel damp from the juices seeping out of my bald, shaved vagina. This was no way a 29 year old married woman was supposed to look, in photographs to be shown to men not her husband. Hold my breath, keep my chin up, push my chest forward. I froze, waiting, and the camera on the corner of the dresser burst with a flash of light and went click. Time for the second pose. I'd been mentally rehearsing for days what poses I might do, getting myself horny thinking about it. Now, actually doing it, I was even more turned on. I reset the camera and hurriedly crawled onto the bed, this time on my knees with my ass facing the camera, covered only by the thing string of the black thong digging into my asscrack. I didn't look back but froze again, waiting until the picture was taken. Then the third, last post I had intended to take. I removed the bra and thong and wore only my hands on arms, standing on the floor in front of my bed, crossing an arm across my tits and nipples and using my other hand to cup my shaved pussy. Damn, this was slutty, I knew. A naked 5-foot-2 slut, smiling to the camera, hoping to make men horny and want to fuck me. But I let the camera take a picture anyway. Okay, those were the three pictures I had planned to put on my new online profile. But, fuck, it was fun taking slutty photographs. Way more than I'd realized; my nerves had subsided and now I was just a bored, horny married housewife, doing something outside the box, showing off my sexy little body. Let's take some more, Melanie said to Melanie. I liked the idea of tantalizing, suggestive photos that weren't yet X-rated. Standing there nude, thinking, the brain of a college graduate with a completely unused degree in media relations began to whirl. I had a few ideas. I grabbed a pair of old, tight jeans, and wearing nothing else I yanked them 90 percent the way up my legs and butt. Not all the way; I got a picture of my nude back plus the upper half of my firm, small buttocks just above my not-quite-closed jeans. That was a hot photo. I removed the jeans and put on a pair of fresh, white panties, then took a close-up picture of my bald pussylips in the damp, clinging crotch. From deep in the closet where my husband never voyaged, I retrieved an often-used dildo -- a fat, thick one, bigger than any real cock I'd fucked before I got married, and certainly bigger than my hubby's little 5 inch prick -- and photographed myself sucking it like it was some lover's boner. By now I was really, really turned on, and for the last picture, I got nude again and spread eagle on my bed, and started fucking myself with the dildo while my tits and hips were barely covered in a towel. That was the hottest picture of all; my hand and the dildo were visible right below the towel, but my filled pussy couldn't be seen. The horny look on my face, however, was priceless. Actually, the orgasms I had from the dildo were really useful. It took me off the edge, as I carried the camera to the computer. I'm not a rocket scientist but I'm pretty good with a computer, so I loaded up the photographs and made online versions of them by pixelating my face where it was visible. I left my lips undisturbed, I think I had hot lips. Then, I opened up the web browser and logged into a site I'd visited a hundred times. I won't use its real name, but it's for consenting adults who want to find other people to fuck for real. For weeks I'd been thumbing through the personal ads on it, getting horny looking at people who lived near me, or at really hot guys and girls who wanted to fuck. Some of them were definitely fake, but the ones with realistic pictures were amazing. You had to pay money to see the "good" stuff and the full details, and at first I wasn't going to go down that path. I was just looking at ads as another form on online porn, using the entries like porn stories for my fantasies. But my lust got the best of me and I paid for a membership, so I could see pictures of guys with their beautiful cocks and women with really hot tits and cunts. I'm not bisexual, but I appreciated a sexy woman, and it made my horny to think that a hot female in those pictures would make men get hard and fuck her. This online website was just like other porn sites that has fueled my sexual imagination for months. Maybe a couple of years, since I first started using the Internet on a regular basis for sexual satisfaction. Back then, I'd just look, no harm in looking; I was a happily married woman, I had been telling myself. I just needed something to get off during the daytime, when my husband was at work, and I was bored of window-shopping (I rarely dared to buy anything, except the most inconsequential items) or reading or trying to build an online, at-home business that seemed destined to failure anyway. I would read porn stories on Literotica, getting off to all sort of horny stories, particularly ones that seemed relevant to me -- hot married women who fucked hung men, cheating on their husbands. So taboo and decadent, I loved it. Unbridled lust, especially women who fucked strangers. Shit, that was hot. I loved the ones that said they were true stories, although I don't know if they really were. It wasn't for me, cheating on my husband, I had a comfortable life in a nice, one-floor house in a suburb outside a large city. My husband worked long hours for okay money, but we had nice clothing and two nice cars and took nice trips. I'm 29 and obviously kids have to be somewhere in my near future, but after eight years of marriage, it was comfortable and secure. So why fuck with it, right? Reading horny stories while I masturbated was no threat to that. But, just reading stories turned into cybersex. Something I'd done in high school and college, but had abandoned like a good girl since getting engaged my senior year in college. After a few tepid, brief adventures into it, one guy particularly good with words caught my imagination and, two hours later, I'd cum a dozen times in front of my computer in the TV room. I felt really guilty about that, and avoided the computer for about two weeks or something. But, you know, it was calling me back. Sitting at home, alone, wearing tight jeans on my tingling crotch, I couldn't resist. I logged back into the same chat sight, and while nothing sexual happened that visit back, it broke open the floodgates. I was logging in once a day, sometimes more, and soon it was addiction. There were so many men, so good with their words, having such nasty, naughty fantasies. I would even get aroused before I even logged on, looking forward to something new, already nude and excited before my computer booted up for the morning. I mean, I had it bad. My husband would leave for work while I was still in a robe, telling him I was going to shower after he left. Oh I would shower, but many hours later; first, I'd get nude, turn on the PC, and find men who wanted to talk about fucking me. The cybersex, of course, wasn't enough for me. Guys were always offering to call me, or giving me their phone numbers. I, again, resisted, the doting housewife didn't want any risk, and I didn't want to make these online affairs any more real than words on my computer screen. But some guys are good talkers, and I was getting ravenously horny, and cybersex wasn't doing it. A couple of guys I'd been cyberfucking for over a couple of months, and in my spare time away from the computer, I sort of realized that if I ever broke down and did the phone sex thing, it would be with one of them. One guy was named Alex, he was in his late 20s and married (both like me), he worked a nightshift while his wife was a nurse and had weird hours. We had multi-hour fuck fests through cyberchat, and he was so good and sexy that sometimes I'd just be finger-fucking myself or using a toy while he did all the typing. I longed to hear his voice, let him hear me cum over the phone for him, or at least do a "voice chat" on the computer so we could hear each other. Another guy, Patrick, said it was up to me but he had a bunch of online and phone lovers, and he wanted to share some of his skills with me. Guaranteed I'd cum many times, he said. All that lust rattled around my pretty little head, making me think about it for week after week, forcing me to prove how good a wife I was. Of course, it just happened without planning. I had been online for like two hours, really horny, looking for orgasms and not finding very much when Alex send me a message, did I have time for a chat. Or a call, he "joked." I looked at my iPhone, then at my spread-open naked legs and my dripping wet vagina, and I couldn't stop myself. I typed my phone number into a response message. Ten seconds later, Alex was calling. Shit, it was really going to happen! "Yes?" I answered, almost apologetically, scared and cowering as I sat in my chair in front of my computer. His voice was smooth and low, full of confidence, juiced with excitement. "Melanie, is that finally you? It's me, Alex, your long-off admirer -- you have no idea what kind of smile you've put on my face this morning!" Wow, he sounded sexy. Masculine. And, he was hot for little ol' me. The good married girl was grinning now, wanting to be Alex's little slut, his secret slut. "Yeah it's me, honey," I told my daytime lover, "are you alone -- are you gonna let me hear you cum?" I couldn't believe how direct my words were, but I was super-horny, I didn't want to play around. You know, I hardly remember that first call with Alex, I just remember it happened. It happened with him after that, too, over the course of a few weeks. He wasn't the only one, either, I tried my other online boyfriend Patrick, then also called some random stranger whom I saw in a phone sexchat room on Literotica. I got off in those calls, but it wasn't any kind of religious experience. I think the guilt and fear of discovery overpowered my love of being sexy and slutty, after the orgasms had died down. Don't do it again, I'd tell myself, only to break the rule the very next day, or later in the same day. No, it was about my fourth phonesex lover that awakened me. His name was David, he was a kinky, smart, married son of a bitch, he had a great radio voice and he knew how to say the most amazing things to make me cum. We'd had cybersex a few times and he didn't even ask about phonesex, until one day I was really horny and my other phone lovers weren't online. I typed to him, do you ever call women? He said it had been a while, he was trying to be "good," and wasn't openly looking for it. Unless, he added, someone wanted to try it with him. I wrote something slutty like, your phone number or mine? I can't even remember who called whom, but a few moments later, we were on the phone together. Oh, baby! I had about a couple dozen orgasms, maybe more, in that phone fuck with the beast. We didn't just fuck, we talked and "cuddled" together over the phone, only to get horny and fuck again. And again, and again. The call lasted so long, my iPhone ran out of juice -- probably about five hours! My bedroom smelled like a gymnasium, my sheets were rancid with my pussyjuice and sweat from all my orgasms. I couldn't put my knees together, the sex with my finger and David's voice was better than any screw my husband had ever given me. Really, I'm serious. My hand ached from fucking my pussy so hard, my face was streaked from crying from the many, hard orgasms. There was just something wonderful about David, I kept cumming and cumming throughout the call, gasping and screaming even while he talked over and over about how he'd fuck me and turn me into his little slutty bitch. He knew me, or my kind -- the married woman who fantasized about being used, being a fucktoy for hot men, strangers, big fat pricks. That's what I wanted, he knew it. David released some of the slut in me. I was aggressive with men online, if I liked how a guy chatted, if he sounded, sexy, if I liked him in pictures he'd show me, I'd just ask to phonefuck. Most guys readily agreed. If they were good, I might call them another time. If not, I'd pout and say what a waste, then go looking for more cocks online to screw. I had phonesex about three or four times a week, and there were more than a few days where I phone fucked more than one guy in one day (never at the same time). Sometimes with "regulars" I met online, other times were "one day stands" with strangers I found online who wanted to get off. I even dabbled a couple times with other women, having phone sex with a college girl once, and another time with a married woman. They didn't make me as horny as the men, but I had orgasms anyway as we talked about rubbing our pussies and eating each other out. Again, I'm not bisexual, but it was just hot fun. Just wild fantasies, really. But as good as phone sex was, I was still drawing lines, trying to confine my bad behavior. David was the first to ask to "face" fuck me -- you know, using the face-time feature on the iPhone -- but I didn't cross that line, not then. It was too personal, he'd actually SEE me. Up to that point, it was only words, either text on the computer or spoken into a phone. Nothing real. I didn't even give out my email address. So why would I let him see me? Other guys wanted to fuck "on cam," or trade nude pictures of myself. I said no to all of that -- at first. Somewhere in all this fun, I discovered the website with personal ads. I'd known about them for years and years, just never paid them attention. I was a petite brunette with hot tits -- C-cups, which on my small, 5-foot-2 frame, look really big -- so until I got married I never needed computers to find male attention. Then, a good wife for eight years, I didn't need this stuff anyway. I had my man, who gave me all his attention! He certainly meant well and I was his whole world, but as the fantasies, cybersex and phonesex were teaching me, I had lust for more. Much more. I checked out the website just to see what kind of men and women were on it. Their "interests" and "bios" and "fetishes" made me so hot, even more than the written stories on Literotica. I couldn't resist, eventually I paid for a membership using a giftcard, so my husband would never know. Now having access to the unrestricted ads, I saw pictures and fantasies and stories that made my cream my panties just thinking about them hours or days later. My husband and I drove two hours one time, and I sat in the passenger seat almost crying because my cunt was so wet, thinking about ads I saw on that website the day before. Poor hubby had no idea, and he got a severely hot fucking back at home later that evening, even if I wasn't picturing him in my head while I rode his little dick. See? It was fair to him; I was enjoying myself, he wasn't any the worse off, and in fact he was getting hot sex from it. How could he complain? But, like the other internet stuff, I couldn't control myself. Not content to just look at ads on the website, I made up one for myself. Okay, it wasn't really me; I lied about what I looked like and where I lived, my age, just about everything. I wanted to see what kind of reactions I'd get from men, and whoa, did I get reactions. Men could be crass, just saying they wanted to meet me to bend me over and fuck me. Other men were lame, trying to sweet-talk me. Some guys were proud of their dicks and told me to look at their pictures, and I'd want to contact them. (I looked, and sometimes I wanted to contact them about setting up a date, but I didn't.) All of this festered in me, as I continued to have cybersex and phone sex time to time. I was definitely out of control, a bored housewife getting off almost every day. I missed it when I wasn't home, I put off chores and luncheons so I could get off, I loved having orgasms with men (and sometimes women) from the internet. Now, knowing there was a place I could put up a true ad about myself, I started to think about it. No, don't do it, I told myself, don't do it Melanie. So I didn't, for weeks and months. It took a stray comment from a friend, about another friend. I was talking on the phone to one of my two best friends from college, Marigold. She was married, kids, all that. We were talking about our mutual best friend from college, Belinda, who unlike us was twice divorced and back playing the field. Marigold had something dismissive to say about Belinda, something like, "Yeah, she said her last date was a guy from an online want ad, she said it was the best sex she'd ever had." Marigold, of course, had no idea I was fucking around on my husband online and on the phone with internet guys, so she thought I'd share her disdain for Belinda. Hmm, that wasn't my reaction. I mean, I said what Marigold expected me to say. But, secretly, it was like a sign. See, internet men can be hot in person too, just like on the phone. Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 02 2. The First: I'm Melanie. I'm a 30 year old, married slut who cheats on her husband almost daily, if not even more often than that, because he can't come close to satisfying me and I can't possibly get enough cock anyway. This is another entry in my memoirs. At the time I'm writing this, I've got about eight to ten guys who I count as "boyfriends" -- guys I fuck somewhat regularly. I decided to write down how I got here -- the doting, boring suburban housewife to the cheating, cock-loving little bitch that I know I am -- because I know how impressed many guys are with me. I've done some really, ridiculously naughty things. Really depraved, outrageous things. Two years ago, before all this started, I barely even had fantasies about some of the things I've done. I can't get enough attention from hung, sexy men (and hot ladies too!). I want every reader of this to crave me, as much as I crave the men in my life. Don't you want me? My petite 125 pound frame, my long dark hair and slender, triangular face, my hot small ass, my gorgeous C-cup tits. I'm here for you, baby, are you man enough to please me, hmm? So go on, grab your dick (or jam your fingers in your twat), read on and I hope you get off as hard as I have! * * * * This happened on a sweltering, blazing hot day last July, I remember that vividly. I had never previously cheated, in person, with another man before that day. Cybersex? Phone sex? Trading emails with other men, fantasizing about hook ups? Yes to all of that. But those were just mental and visual or oral games, nothing physical, nothing in person. Showing off my C-cup tits, my petite body, my shaved 29-year-old, married vagina, in photographs or using the camera on the iPhone, or on Skype? I'd done all of that, for months, but it was never real. It was never in person. And I wasn't looking for it, either, not really at least. From an online personal ad that was soliciting local men to contact me for sex, I'd generated dozens of emails from horny guys who wanted to meet to fuck. Some of them were lucky enough to get my reply. I'd struck up email friendships and a few phone calls, but I never crossed my line of scheduling a date for a fuck. Never, ever in person. I was going to remain a good wife, I was just playing around, filling the time during the day when my husband was at work and I was bored. Of course, I'd been fantasizing about it. I'm not naive. What would it be like, who would be the first guy I fuck? Making dates with men, even as a fantasy, talking about when we'd meet, what we'd do -- making it seem so real, I had some powerful orgasms visualizing those kinds of things. But, as the orgasms passed, I'd return to Earth and put aside the folly of having dates with other men. I was married, damned it. The afternoon before, I was horny and mad. Bothered, is a better word. I'd scheduled a time for phone sex with one of my online boyfriends, only I wasn't home alone. My husband had hired some stupid handyman to rewire the bad electrical outlets in our house, and I didn't know the guy was showing up until he was on my doorstep. Fuck. Growling around the house, I wanted to tell him to come back another day, constantly thinking about my friend David, whose cock was going to squirt orgasm a few times from the sound of my voice. But I had to email him and apologize, telling him it would be a little while because I had the contractor over. The handyman, Rick I thought his name was, was probably a really nice guy. He certainly looked good. In a tight t-shirt and jeans, his butt was small and powerful, he was tall, handsome, he had a casual smile that was very disarming. His demeanor was completely professional, he talked pleasantly to me, he wasn't making me feel uncomfortable. I mean, my husband was only a phonecall away. So why didn't I like Rick? He was fucking interrupting my day, and my phone sex with David. I growled at the guy, snapping a few times, hoping he'd finish soon. The clock ticked away, and my concern wasn't the expense (my husband saves way more money than he needs to), it was the lack of time I could play before my husband got home. Three o'clock. Four. Five. Fuck, hubby would be home real soon, and I didn't have even one fucking orgasm all afternoon. NOT ONE! The next morning, I was in a totally different place. It was a fucking monstrous day outside -- temperature over 100 degrees, not a cloud in sight to save us from the pulverizing July sun. The humidity in my part of Pennsylvania can be brutal, too, we aren't in the mountains like some other lucky folks. Even going out to get the newspaper for my husband, I was breaking sweat. It was a rare event the fluids dripping down my thighs weren't due to my over-active vagina; no, I was perspiring instantly. The heat suppressed my lusty desires, and I wasn't particularly eager to get to fucking. So I didn't mind that the handyman, Rick, was coming over again, to complete the work from the night before. He wasn't happy about it, either, making calls in front of me and my hubby the night before to rearrange his schedule. My hubby didn't like the expense, but some prick who lived in the house before us tried a do-it-yourself repair job that was constantly making shorts around the house. We'd put up with it for years, so the fix was overdue. Gotta be done, my husband told me when he decided to proceed with the work. Hmm, hot temperature, sexy repair man coming to the house. I should have foreseen it. Rick came over, wearing a white t-shirt that was like glued to the muscular pecks and abs on his very fit upper body. With sweat beading on his stubbled chin, my eyes were invested in him immediately. I like men with that gruff, unkempt look, and the sweat made him look more manly. I let Rick back into my house about 9:30 that morning, intending to stay out of his way. But . . . how he looked in that t-shirt, and bending over in his jeans, and that sweat on his forehead. I have to say, he looked good. My feelings for him started to change, mostly due to the temperature. Our house is nicely air conditioned, however, Rick had to turn off the power for a couple of hours, and thus it getting really hot inside. Had to be over 80 degrees, or more, even with the window shades closed. The house was dim, sweltering. Rick moved around, room to room, needing my help to flick switches and tell him if stuff was activating or not. Working as his unpaid apprentice, I found my eyes gazing at his body. He was way taller than my husband, he was all man -- not ripped, but really fit. Curly blonde hair, deep-set gray eyes. We got to talking, too -- nothing serious, just about where he was from, his days in the service, some places we'd both visited, although years apart. I kept thinking, it was like a date, something you'd talk about with a guy over lunch, only, he was rewiring my fucking house, not dating me. My husband hired him. So, yeah, I was flirting with him. My unfinished business from the previous afternoon -- the lack of orgasms -- had spilled over to the next morning, and even in the oppressive humidity and heat inside my own house, I was feeling horny again. The high temperature suppressed that a little, but it also suppressed my self-monitoring. I was probably flirting a little too much, smiling and giggling at Rick's stupid jokes, acting way too much like a schoolgirl. It was fun. And the heat -- well, it had another effect. Under my clothing, a t-shirt and bra and shorts, I was getting really oppressively hot. I hadn't dressed with the expectation that my home's temperature would climb so high. I started getting an idea, and while I told myself it was a bad one, I couldn't stop myself. I'd shown my nude body off to lots of strangers, and my idea wasn't nearly as provocative as that. So, around 11 in the morning, I excused myself to my bedroom. I knew what I wanted to do. I picked out a bikini, lying uselessly in the bottom of one of my drawers, something I'd worn to the ocean beach a couple years ago. I've got a tiny body, I looked the same at 29 as I did at 26 or 27, so there was no question it would fit. It wasn't really slutty, either; it wasn't a string bikini, it was more of a two-piece bathing suit, nicely covering my large breasts and all of my ass and crotch. But, wow, it felt soooo much better in the hot air, wearing it than full clothing. So I wouldn't look too provocative, I put on a loose, short white skirt over the bottom. I looked like I could be at the beach. "Hope you don't mind," I teased to Rick, entering the room and making his eyes pop out, "it's really hot in here." I pretended not to notice his eyes devouring the sight of my round, soft C-cup tits bouncing around inside the tight yellow bikini. I didn't try and make too many overtly sexual poses, like I never bent over in front of him, but his eyes definitely were on my ass as I passed him. Rick didn't mind at all, in fact, he said I looked "delightful" in it. He didn't sound sexual or aggressive; it was just an honest comment, and he kept going about his business. Poor guy, he had to keep his shirt and jeans on, and he was really overheating inside my home with the air conditioning turned off. Rick didn't complain, he just kept wiping the sweat from his manly brow. With my defenses lowered and feeling horny, I suggested he could take his shirt off. He politely declined. I said, no, really, it's okay. He still declined, but not as confidently. I am sure he was thinking about it. No, I wasn't thinking about seducing Rick, I was just teasing him while trying to feel comfortable inside my overheating house. Honestly, I swear, that's all. He flipped back on the power a half-hour later, something like that. Within a few minutes, I could feel the air inside my house returning to a much more temperate state. Not my libido, however. Just before noon, I was standing in the foyer of my house, the front door opened, Rick on the deck outside about to leave, his work finished. With the front door opened, the heat of the bright July day came blasting into my just-cooled house again, and sweat started dripping down my slender neck, down to my chest plate exposed above the bikini. Looking at Rick, seeing him so sweaty and hot, I felt hair rising on my neck. His body and ass looked so manly in his tight, sweaty clothing. He was about to leave, for good, and I had been enjoying his attention. I gulped, frozen for a moment, caught by the sudden rush of desire sizzling between my thighs. Right in front of me, the hunky, dreamy handyman was staring at my achingly hard nipples poking through my yellow bikini, right at him. Did I say staring? More than staring. His eyes were glued to the sight, like radar on the targets. For the first time all morning, he was looking at me sexually. My voice was shaky. It was a moment I hadn't planned, and my reaction to it was totally the opposite of what I really wanted. I mean, I was giving into REALLY wanted, but my brain was saying, this is absolutely not what you want, Melanie. I had said no to so many men online, surely I was not about to give into this handyman? "Sooo," quivered my girlish, high-pitched whisper, barely audible enough for him to hear and he was three feet in front of me, "you can stay for lunch here, with me, if you want, I can make you something, so you don't have to go out into this sweltering heat." I smiled, trying to find a good excuse. "I mean, if you don't have anywhere to be for a couple of hours, why not wait out the heat in here, make sure the air conditioning works and won't blow a gasket or something?" As I leaned my shoulder against the door frame of our house, I sensed my back instinctively arching, pushing my heaving tits in my tight blouse right at the 30-something-year-old stud in front of me, my buttocks clenching in my bikini bottoms inside my skirt. I was almost biting my lip, nervous, feeling like I was in high school again. I hadn't flirted with a guy since I began dating my husband eight years ago, and I was out of my element. Unlike playing with so many men online or on the phone, this was different -- this was in person. I felt exposed, ashamed. Rick's steel gray eyes, set deep in his square face framed by a rock-solid jaw sporting two-day stubbles, looked up from the C cups in my tight shirt to my blue eyes, finding my visage a combination of lust and fear. "That's sweet of you," purred the hot man who'd been flirting with me for the past two hours, "I do have a couple of hours before I need to get to the next job -- and yeah, we might want to make sure the gaskets all work." He chuckled, undoubtedly because I bet air conditioners and electrical systems don't have gaskets. I have no idea what a gasket is, for the record. I let the gorgeous man back into my house, feeling a mixture of relief, excitement and nerves. My knees wanted to melt. If my husband knew what was on my mind, he'd have killed me, then divorced me afterwards to add insult to injury. I mean, just the thoughts in my head were bad enough, right? That I'd changed into the bikini, making my flat tummy and petite frame and big round tits more obvious to Rick? Maybe my husband could have gotten over all the cybersex and phonesex and video sex with men for months, but, here I was, seducing Rick in person. None of that other stuff counted to me, it seemed. Yeah, I felt guilty as shit, letting Rick back into my house, the way he was looking at me, the way I was dressed. I even peeked around the neighborhood before shutting my front door, making sure none of my neighbors (whom I didn't know anyway) were looking at the horny, married woman letting the handyman back into her house. Rick's powerful eyes were on my body as I wandered around the kitchen making us a tuna salad. I felt him ogling my small butt in my white skirt, with the bikini bottoms under it. I could see his eyeballs fixated on my breasts trying to squeeze through my tight but covering bikini top. His eyes drank the sights of my small, triangular face, of my long dark-brown hair. I continued to pretend not to notice, but unlike earlier, I was giving him more to see. I bent over at the refrigerator too long, showing the shape of my ass in my bathing suit; then I unnecessarily stretched up on my bare toes to grab glasses off of the highest shelf I could barely reach, showing off the shape of my breasts in the bikini top. It was still just teasing, but it was becoming more torture than fun. On me, I mean -- showing my married body to a handsome hunk, after I'd spent months and months fantasizing about fucking men and cheating on my husband. This handyman was a gentleman, taking what I was giving -- an eyeful -- but still not crossing any lines. It turned me on, made my pussy leak juices in my bikini bottoms under my skirt. Knowing I shouldn't be doing it, I was feeling alive. Having a man's eyes on me, his attention, my femininity and my body seducing him. All of the feeling from those online and email and phone affairs, but a million times more powerful. And better. I thought about how I let Adam and other men see my naked body through the cellphone, but letting Rick see me in my tight, revealing clothing in person was actually much more arousing to me. Adam couldn't touch me through a phone (too bad!); but Rick, he was here, in his manly flesh. There was always that potential for something real happening, as much as I had told myself I would never cross that line. Delivering the tuna salads in bowls to the table where Rick was sitting -- right where my husband sat that morning before his job, and where he'd sit a few hours later for dinner -- I saw Rick admiring me, sitting back, casual, yet waiting. Yes, he was waiting for me. For a signal, maybe? Maybe he'd make the first move, but I had to let him know it was alright. Mmm, yes, his eyes flirted with the sight of my nipples in my bikini top, he was hungry for them, wasn't he? He wasn't here to eat lunch, he wanted to eat my cunt, I bet. I hoped. My brain was goo. So many emotions. All those hours and days in front of the computer, rubbing my cunt, reading stories of married sluts and whores, fucking hot men because their husbands couldn't give them what they needed. The phonesex, hearing men orgasm for me. The video sex, showing off my tits and cunt to strangers so I could enjoy their delicious pricks spurting hot cum. But as real as those orgasms were, the situations were all phony, completely electronic, not "real" to me. This was real, the sexy hot stud at my kitchen table was real. But this wasn't a decision for my brain. No, my college-educated brain had nothing to do with it. I was all woman now, on the prowl, I was looking for cock and I wasn't going to deny myself any longer. All those months and months of online and phone fucking were pushing me over the edge. The words just tumbled out of my chalky mouth, something my fingers might have typed in a hot session of cybersex , but nothing I'd ever thought about uttering aloud. "You can have this tuna salad for lunch," I offered as I slipped the bowl in front of him, "or, if you want, you can have anything else you see." And, as I said it, I leaned my petite frame forward, pushing the C-cup melons swelling in bikini top towards his face. My nipples were not even two feet from him, hard knobs making distinct bumps in the thin fabric, and the shape of my boobs was completely evidence as they stretched out the bathing suit. Besides being hot, Rick was smart enough to know what he was being offered. Suddenly his hands were on my small buttocks, groping my asscheeks through my skirt and bathing suit, and my body was straddling his lap as he sat at my kitchen table, I felt the bulge of his incredible erection pushing through his jeans against my aching pussy in my clothing. While he ground his penis against my pussy and groped my ass through the jeans, his lips and jaws opened wide to start mouthing my throbbing hard nipples through my bathing suit. He was eating my tits, not my tuna salad. And the married woman straddling his lap? I was enthralled, giving into the moment of lust. So many hours of fantasies were bursting into reality. "Fuck yeah," groaned my desires with enthusiasm. "That feels so good, baby -- I need that so bad!" He confirmed his desire for me, too, by bending my head down and sinking his tongue into my mouth. Instantly we were making out with a sloppy wet French kiss, this married woman crossing the line with a hot stranger. Not a complete stranger, my husband hired him to repair our dated electrical system. I'd known him since he arrived the afternoon before and pissed me off the rest of the day. It was already past noon now, more than enough time to justify his tongue driving into my throat, his hands clutching my buttocks, his bulging penis gyrating against my married mound. We made out noisily, swapping saliva, tongues dancing together, grinding our crotches together, not comfortable at all but unable to move away from each other. Then, out of nowhere, without saying a word, studly Rick scooped my petite body into his arms and carried me across our one-floor house towards the guest bedroom. Still making out with him, our lips sealed and lungs exchanging breaths directly, my legs were wrapped around his athletic waist while he continued to grab my firm little butt. As we passed into the guest room, I had a fleeting admiration for Rick that we weren't going into the master bedroom, thus avoiding me fucking him on my marital bed. Cheating is cheating, but for a second, I felt that I didn't need to do it right where my husband slept. Really bad karma, that would be -- even if all this would remain a complete secret from my husband. Flopped onto my back on the queen-size bed, Rick peeled off my white skirt. I couldn't wait, I gripped my bikini top and yanked it off of my torso, tossing it onto the floor. My nude tits jiggled in front of the stud, my pink nipples long and hard, standing at attention for him. Arching my back more, I grinned as Rick peeled off the bottoms of my two-piece bathing suit. He was stripping me completely naked, I was a married woman being exposed to a virtual stranger. Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 02 Fuck I was horny! Now lying totally bare for my new lover, I pried my knees apart while I watching the divine man stand upright and disrobe for me. God, what a specimen, way hotter than my husband. Firm, chiseled chest, not ripped or muscular but without any flab, and thick curly salt-and-pepper hairs on it. His hips were wide but bony. And, ohhh shit -- his cock! Seven inches, maybe; cut; huge, cum-filled balls dangling under it, a bulbous round cockhead already leaking precum. Stiff as concrete. And for what? For ME -- just for me. My legs spread open offering him my moist vagina, damp shaved pink pussylips surrounding it, I snarled at my new lover. "Come fuck me hard, baby, give me what I'm missing!" And with that, I started my life as a cheating married slut. That was the first day, that's when it all began. Rick had the honors! At first Rick began teasing me, leaning down to suck and lick both my naked boobs while his powerful fingers rubbed and fucked my gushing twat. Then his tongue licked down my slender tummy to my pussy, and he brought me to my first orgasm of the afternoon from wrapping his tongue around my burning clitoris. My fingers gripped his short hair, guiding his mouth around my cunt, having him thrust his tongue inside my hole repeatedly until I had a second orgasm. His cunnilingus was way, way better than anything my husband ever gave me. But I wanted -- needed -- more than his great tongue. "Fuck me," I gasped, coming down from that second orgasm, "stick your big dick in me, honey!" Rick crawled over me, smiling down at my petite face with his strong jaw and silky lips, his nude body towering above mine. "You're really fucking hot," he gasped, "what's your name again?" I chuckled at the fact he had the decency to ask me again, before sticking his dick in me. We'd been talking since the afternoon a day ago, and he didn't remember my name. Hell, I was only partially sure that his name was Rick; something gnawed at me that I had it wrong. Was it two syllables? Answering with a grin, I let him know I was alright. "Melanie -- and you're Rick, right?" "Roger," he laughed back. Oops. It was Roger! Here, I'd been calling him Rick in my head, and the whole time he was Roger. But, you know, a rose by any other word . . . he was still fucking hot. Roger's or Rick's or whoever's cock felt AWESOME as he entered my vagina. I was really tight, so much so that my husband with his five-inch dicklet felt good inside me. But just from the swollen round head of Roger's erection, I was already in more sexual frenzy than my hubby ever put me. I grabbed my knees and spread myself extremely wide open, then reached down to his firm muscular ass and pulled him forward. His cock started ramming the tightness in me, bludgeoning a path inside my vagina, starting to stuff two, three, four inches of manhood into me. We began making out again, swapping breaths lung to lung while Rick pumped his shaft farther inside my cunt. I couldn't believe I was being fucked by a man I only met that morning -- but, a part of me also couldn't believe I'd let eight years of my life go to waste without getting fucked like this! My new lover had the hots for me, it turned out. He broke the kiss just so he could stare at my slender, 5-foot-2 body, watching my C-cup tits jiggling on my pale chest, seeing my little waist undulating under his thrusts. Then he flipped me onto my knees and pushed my face and shoulders into the bed, grinding against my from behind, filling my juicy cunt with that god-given, huge penis of his. "Fuck yeah!" Taking more cock than I had since college, I was discovering I was pretty vocal in bed when really turned on. Or, was it all the time on the computer in cybersex that was making me this way? "I love your cock, Roger! Fuck me harder with it baby!" I could hear his firm pelvis slapping against my asscheeks and thighs, a SMACK-SMACK-SMACK noise of sweaty skin on sweaty skin each time he crushed his dick into my cunt from behind, his powerful hands wrapped around my hips pulling me backwards. Reaching under myself, I surrounded my clitoris with two of my fingers and started rubbing it hard, bringing me to orgasms. Feeling his fat long dick inside my cunt was giving me a joy that my husband had never, ever given me. "Yesss, Roger! I'm cumming! Ohhh yesssss! Fuck me more baby!" My entire body ached, my cunt was on fire and my legs and arms were burning from being tense. Gripping the bedsheets, I let myself get used by the hot horny stud, knowing he was just fucking me because I was hot and wanted him. That was way okay with me, I didn't want an affair, I wanted to get fucked. I wanted to be used like a SLUT. I looked back at Rick, er Roger, over my shoulder, salivating from the hot sex. "Make me your slut," I groaned at him, saying something I'd typed online a hundred times in hot cybersex, "fuck me like your slut!" Roger's big hand flattened and he suddenly slapped my asscheek! I cried in a yelp, feeling the sting on my firm little buttock. "You hot bitch," Roger called out in a sneer, "you're a whoring little tramp, aren't you?" I gulped, admitting it. "Yes," I said to the first (but not the last) man to fuck me since I'd gotten married, "I wanna be a little tramp!" With that, Roger exploded an orgasm deep into my pussy, squirting his seed inside me. I didn't care it was unprotected. It felt awesome. We made out again, I groped his cock then sucked it back to life, and fifteen minutes later or so he was fucking me again. He loved my little body and my oversized tits for my petite frame, I rode him cowgirl style, swaying my breasts as I rode that fabulous long penis. He ground his fingers on my vagina and expertly drew out more orgasms from me, so by now in just one fuck session I'd had more cums with Roger than my husband's little penis had given me in probably the last two or three years combined. I'm not making that up, seriously. Riding Roger's penis, I saw my reflection in the mirror on the closet door. I looked really good on him, nude and sweaty, my firm big breasts with my hard pink nipples, my small tight ass sliding up and down a thick reddened penis. I realized, I could make lots of men hot, and this was sooo much more fun than anything else in life I'd been doing. Sure, it was wrong, very wrong. I'd have to deal with my guilt and emotions later, I knew. But for now, I was going to enjoy this. The deed was done, so might as well see it through. The longer the deed, the better. His second cum was down my throat. The feeling of that huge bone in my mouth was intoxicating, I couldn't get enough, sucking and licking it, tasting his sperm and my pussyjuice. I'd never been a big fan of my own pussyjuice until guys online and in phonesex made me suck myself after masturbating, and it definitely turned me on. Lapping my juices as they dripped down the hot penis and coated his hairy balls made my fishy, musky flavors taste even better. Greedily I slurped up the juices from his penis, all over, and pushed his cock as deep into my mouth as I could (at that point in time, I couldn't deep-throat), then felt the amazing warm, gooey semen splurt form his shaft into my throat and stomach. My husband never went more than two orgasms. Roger, however, wasn't nearly done. He spread me open and licked my clitoris then ate my asshole, fingering me as he shoved tongue in my butt, making me cum more. I was so his toy that afternoon. "Fuck me again, baby," begged his little married slut, "put your dick back in me!" So he did, climbing over me, finding me loose and wet and gyrating under him. We stared into each other's eyes, kissing sometimes, other times my hands or his hands around my tits to tease his eyes while my pussy swallowed his hot dick. We ended up laying together, nude, breathing hard, sweating, cuddling and touching, when he forced himself to look at the clock. "Shit, I really need to get going," apologized my first hot fuck. "I'd love to say, but--" I didn't argue, I just made him promise he'd be back some other time. Soon. Fifteen minutes later, as I stood there from my front window watching his car drive away with his sperm dripping down my inner thighs, the guilt stated to drown me. I actually cried. It sucked. Yeah, I was standing there buck naked, used, dripping with sweat and cum, freshly fucked by a hung stud, a confirmed cheating bitch of a wife. My body felt great; my heart felt let down, depressed, oblivious to love. Then, I just muttered something to myself. It made me feel better. I said it aloud. "Oh, fuck that!" And I turned around, rubbed my aching clitoris, and looked forward to the next time Roger could come over and give me what my slutty body needed. Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 03 3. The Hotel: I'm Melanie. I'm a 30 year old, married slut who cheats on her husband almost daily, if not even more often than that, because he can't come close to satisfying me and I can't possibly get enough cock anyway. This is another entry in my memoirs. At the time I'm writing this, I've got about eight to ten guys who I count as "boyfriends" -- guys I fuck somewhat regularly. I decided to write down how I got here -- the doting, boring suburban housewife to the cheating, cock-loving little bitch that I know I am -- because I know how impressed many guys are with me. I've done some really, ridiculously naughty things. Really depraved, outrageous things. Two years ago, before all this started, I barely even had fantasies about some of the things I've done. I can't get enough attention from hung, sexy men (and hot ladies too!). I want every reader of this to crave me, as much as I crave the men in my life. Don't you want me? My petite 125 pound frame, my long dark hair and slender, triangular face, my hot small ass, my gorgeous C-cup tits. I'm here for you, baby, are you man enough to please me, hmm? So go on, grab your dick (or jam your fingers in your twat), read on and I hope you get off as hard as I have! * * * * (I know for a fact this happened last September 20 -- I still have the stub from the hotel parking lot! Sort of a memento, I suppose.) "So where were you, tell me!" my best friend from college, Belinda, demanded of me over the phone. She'd been divorced twice; she played the field; she knew me well enough to sense when I was lying. Hell, she knew me better than my husband, a lot. I'd already told her, months earlier, I'd been entertaining myself by fucking guys online. Cybersex, phone sex, video sex (through Skype or my iPhone). That was just like an interactive game to me; nothing real, nothing actual. Belinda didn't hold it against me, she never liked my husband and she was happy I was satisfying myself. Having cheated on both of her ex-husbands, she wasn't going to throw stones at me for the same thing. So you can imagine, she was outright ecstatic for me when I told her, about a month earlier, that I'd been having a month-long affair with our sexy handyman, Roger. Belinda thought it was high time I got laid properly, not by my small-dicked husband. (Yeah, Belinda dated my husband before I got engaged to him at the end of college.) I really wanted to tell Belinda where I'd been that day. It felt proud, admitting it; I was impressed with myself for going through with it. And it had been better than I'd hoped. So, laughing a little, I lowered my voice and muttered to my long-time friend, "Well Belinda, hun, I figure I've been cheating on my husband with the same guy for two months now, this little bitch's married pussy was aching to try some other cock too." Belinda howled in delight, praising me for my boldness, and of course demanding details. Every detail. Who was he, where did we do it, what was it like? I'll say more here than I told her. I'm more comfortable with myself now, about nine months later, than I had been at the time. By the time I seduced and fucked Roger last summer, having been playing with other men online for months by phone and in video sex for nearly a year, the fantasies about actually cheating on my husband had been consuming and intense. I had just always promised myself never to cross that line, and frankly, I hadn't ever crossed it -- with a guy from the internet. One hot day in July, however, I seduced and fucked Roger when he had come to our house to repair the electrical wiring. He was sexy, he was a good fuck, and he was a nice guy. So, for a couple of months, I continued to play with my online lovers without agreeing to meet any of them in person, while in parallel hooking up with Roger once a week or so and spreading apart my married thighs for his very beautiful erection. But, mmm, those offers from other sexy men online were making me think. Many other opportunities for getting laid, some of them hotter than Roger for sure. I was enjoying my secret affair with Roger, but when I was alone, my fantasies turned to thoughts of other men. Guys from online. Why not try it, the slut in Melanie kept saying, just meet one, see what he's like. It's no different from fucking Roger, only it might be more fun! Two months of that slut yammering away in my pretty little brunette head finally brought about some action. Yeah, I was going to agree to meet a guy from the Internet in person -- and meet to fuck. I had a bunch of online boyfriends, and even more men who lived near me who responded to my online personal ad that I'd had there for most of the year. So I had no shortage of choices, and trust me, I thought about each and every one. I had some incredible orgasms, fantasizing about which guy I wanted to meet in person to fuck. The rules became clear to me. Someone who looked hot. Someone married, so he wouldn't be a pest if I didn't like him. Someone from out of town, coming here for business or something, in case it didn't work out. I didn't need a second boyfriend, I already had Roger. Plus all the men online I was fucking on the phone and over cameras. About two weeks after making my choice, I was holding my breath, staring at myself in the wall-to-wall mirror in my bathroom, spreading my legs as wide open as I could, ever so carefully scrapping the razor around my pussylips. Leaning against the tiled wall of our bathroom, my body ached from the unforgiving porcelain tub under my naked butt, and my legs and arms tensed to keep me in position. I had become pretty adept at shaving my cunt bald, it felt so good finger-fucking myself that way, and it looked great in the photographs and over the phone for Adam or my other online lovers. Roger told me he loved the taste of it. I was definitely going to be bald for every man I fucked, from now on, I promised myself. Later, as I pulled up my brand-new red thong, I glanced at myself in the mirror of my marital bedroom. My naked breasts would soon have a man's hands and saliva over them; a big fat dick would be entering my cunt. Damn, I looked good nude and in the thong, men were lucky to be able to have me. My husband? Even more than lucky, his small cock had no way of pleasing me like Roger did, and like Chuck was going to do that afternoon. I'd been looking forward to this day for a couple of week, ever since Chuck told me his travel plans. He saw my ad on the website, he contacted me to say he'd be in our city for a convention but would have a lot of "down time" in his hotel room. If I wanted meaningless but hot sex, he offered himself to me. I get a lot of emails like that, but some things on his profile caught my attention. Chuck was married with kids, but had an awesome body -- a tall runner, very fit, with shaved balls and a gorgeous, super-fat 7 inch penis. Very handsome, distinguished face, smooth chest. He also had pictures of himself fucking other women, all wearing wedding rings, and somehow I figured he would be just the perfect fuck for a horny married woman. So after a couple hot phonecalls that may have involved some orgasms, I agreed to meet him at his hotel for a few hours. This was a new me, an evolving one. I'd had sex with Roger three times that month, but it was difficult finding time in his work schedule during the day. I loved having a lover, but I didn't want an affair, and unmarried Roger was getting a little too affectionate for me. I loved his company, but didn't really want a "boyfriend." I just wanted to feel like a woman; my husband actually did a decent job of taking care of the romance side of things. So, even though I was telling myself in the mirror every day that I was getting out of control, I wanted to get even more out of control. The lie had been set with my husband for a few days. He thought I was going into the city to have lunch with Belinda, who sometimes traveled to our city. That's why I told Belinda I needed her to lie for me, if on the .00001% chance my husband ever asked about it. Belinda immediately wanted to know what I had been doing, and that's why I told her about my day. How brazen was my lie to my husband? I even asked my husband for directions to the fucking hotel! He had no idea I was going there to get laid. Equally nervous from the drive into the big city than because of the fact I was going there to meet a stranger from the Internet for sex, I found myself standing in the lobby of a pretty fancy downtown hotel a little before lunchtime. It was bustling with business people, scurrying around for this convention and whatever else business people do in hotels in the middle of the day. No one looked like they were there for sex -- not even me. I didn't want to dress like a hooker, so Chuck and I agreed I'd come in boring dress slacks and a white blouse under my raincoat. I looked like some lawyer's paralegal or something, I figured. Dreamy Chuck saw me before I saw him, he approached me from behind and goosed my butt through my thin coat. "Hiya doll," he said confidently, putting an arm around me, smiling at the face he only saw in my emails and online pictures. "I'm so excited you came to meet me, you have no idea how excited I am." "Oh, is that right." A glance to his crotch, sporting a prodigious bulge, confirmed what he told me. "Hmm, well we're going to have to do something about that excitement then, aren't we?" It was like we were old friends, or longtime lovers, even though we'd only met online about two weeks earlier. He took my hand, we kissed hello on the lips, we went off to the lobby to sit for a bit. He had to make a couple work phonecalls, so I sat there on a comfortable chair next to him, people-watching while he babbled corporate speak into his phone. Then, ten minutes later, he put his phone away, winked at me, and asked, "So -- are you hungry for lunch? Or -- well you tell me what you want to do?" Smirking, seeing him checking out my petite eye-popping figure in my clothing, I was sexually aggressive from the outset. I loved that there were no pretenses; we both knew why we were there. "I want," I said slowly, drawing it out quietly, playfully, "is for you to take me up to your hotel room, strip me, and fuck my savagely all afternoon." So, he did. We weren't alone on the elevator ride up to the 35th floor, but it was charged nonetheless. We held hands, then he stood behind me and ground his bulging crotch against my lower back. I had to bite my tongue, force myself not to moan. I tickled him as he tried to unlock his room, he tickled me back there in the hallway, it was pretty silly of us. Then, a moment later, we were behind a closed, locked hotel room door, totally alone for the rest of the day. Chuck pushed me to my knees, I was still clothed, removing only my raincoat. Standing in front of me, his big paws clutching my long hair and skull, he rubbed his penis through his pants against my face. I felt the hardness, I could small it too, I wanted it so bad. I looked up at him diffidently, letting him rub against my face, until finally he let me unzip his pants, unfasten his belt, take his shoes off, and pull down his slacks and underwear. "Mmm, gawd your cock is hot," gasped the married slut on her knees, gripping his boner as soon as it popped free, stroking it to draw out more precum. I tasted the pointy head of the ultra fat shaft, I couldn't get my fist around its thick base. It was love at first sight of his erection. "Fuck I love your dick!" I slurped it, licked and kissed it, sucked it a little, letting his fuck my mouth as I kept looking up at his friendly, smiling face. "Mmm, how many married women have gotten to suck 'n fuck this cock? Besides your wife, of course?" The stud snickered. "A lot -- dunno, twenty? Something like that." He groaned in satisfaction, seeing his penis inside my wet, hungry mouth. "But you're the prettiest, I'm serious, you're gorgeous, Melanie." He licked his lips and grunted. "How many men have you fucked behind your husband's back?" I paused, wanting to lie and sound experienced, not wanting to say he was just the second in person. I thought about Adam and other men through the cellphone and Skype, and other men I met online who just got cyber or phone out of me. "A few," I giggled, blushing as I looked up at him. "A girl isn't supposed to kiss and tell?" He was removing his clothing, leaving himself only in black socks, otherwise totally nude, with just a gold chain around his thin neck. "Oh, don't worry, I don't fuck and tell either." He laughed at his dumb joke, I could see the confidence he had from me being in lust with his heavenly penis. "Let me watch you strip, can you dance for me?" Nude Chuck lied back on the bed, his eyes all over me, as I stood stupidly near the bed. I hadn't really danced or stripped for anyone before, not even my husband. I'd done dance classes as a kid, none really involved removing clothing. But, knowing what he really wanted, I gave him as best I could. I swayed around, fondling my boobs and my ass through my clothing, slowing unbuttoning my blouse, then peeling off my slacks. Left in the see-through bra and thong, I danced around and shook my almost-nude butt at him, then provocatively peeled off the bra with my back to him. I turned around, clutching my tits in my hands, before showing them and drawing a raving sexy smile from my new friend. Finally, turning my back to him again, I peeled off the thong, showed my ass and cunt from behind, and stood up to face him a last time revealing my freshly-shaved pussy. His penis was throbbing, streaming precum, as he laid on the bed. "You are so gorgeous, so gorgeous." He wasn't mouthing the words, I could tell he meant it the way he was staring at me. It made me feel great. "So, did you say you wanted to get fucked now?" He seemed apologetic, offering an excuse. "I'm sorry, you just have me so turned on -- we can do anything you want, whatever foreplay you like -- but I'm just so hard, if you just want to fuck, we can." My blue eyes were staring at that incredibly thick, hard-as-concrete pole jutting out of his flat stomach and hips. Licking my lips, feeling my shaved pussy dripping juices, I loved the offer. "Hmm, well, what do you know, that is what I want." I climbed over him, slowly, teasing him, playfully lowering my twat to his erection just to kiss the eye of his penis with my lips -- only to sit upright, back off, giggling. He clutched for me, I grabbed his wrists and didn't let him pull me down until I'd playfully just brushed my wet cunt against his swollen pecker a few times. He was really tall, his body so lengthy, and I'm so short and petite, we made a funny couple. A couple, I thought to myself. Yeah, we're going to fuck, we're a couple. My blue eyes stared at his face, my pussy's soft wet entrance found the head of his dick. "Fuck me, Chuck!" I sank down, taking some of his thick manhood into my cunt, and we both moaned. His paws groped at my big naked tits, squeezing them, fingers around my nipples, as I closed my eyes and sank onto his prick. Fuck he was so goddamned thick, I could feel him spreading my cuntlips open, almost stretching me into shapes I'd never known, not even from the oversized dildos and vibrators I'd play with time to time. "Ohhh Chuck, fuck me, yesss!" I was screaming and crying as I had my first orgasm, only a few minutes after I started riding him, I was so turned on for my new lover. We started kissing, I was lying on top of him, not riding him. We rolled around, he fucked me on top of me, then from the backside with us body lying on our sides, my one leg high in the air. Our lips were always together, he was romantic and sensuous with his lips and tongue, making it part of our sex. And, something strange happened with our vocabulary. I found myself a bit of a talker during sex with Roger, so I was doing the same with Chuck, telling him I loved his penis, loved him fucking me, wanted to be his slut. He was saying how beautiful I was, stuff like that. Suddenly, he was saying he "loved" me, and I was so in lust for him I said back to him, "I love you too, Chuck, fuck me, I love you!" We were gasping, sweating, pounding our bodies together, but not fucking as much as making love. It was really romantic, an extremely exciting change of pace from Roger. "Oh God baby," I remember Chuck saying as he put me on my knees, staring at my bony ass, "I love you, I love your butt, let me fuck your ass sweetie." Roger had licked my ass but not fucked it, and it was certainly nothing my husband ever did, so I had a virgin anus at least as of about the last decade. I pulled my buttcheeks apart, looking back at him over my shoulder, and I cried, "Yeah honey, I love you too, fuck my butt!" Shit, that huge cock didn't fit, but he tried anyway. I don't know how many inches he got inside me, but it felt like I was going to explode, my pooper wanted to burst in the worst say. Meanwhile, I was frantically grinding my fingers on my cunt while he assfucked me, my face pressed into the sweaty sheets. A loving, romantic sessions of sex had turned into animal, smelly ass-fucking! I was cumming repeatedly, while Chuck ripped open my butthole, telling me how gorgeous my ass was. My ass hurt, and I mean HURT, when he pulled out after I don't know how long. He kept me on my knees, bent over, screwing my tight juicy pussy from behind. My orgasm was instantaneous, feeling that pressure deep inside me, feeling his sweaty tall body bouncing off my asscheeks. He, too, started squirting inside me, both of us cumming together. We had sex two more times that afternoon, and I'll get to the last session in a moment. But somewhere in between all the fucking, we were lying together in the bed, talking. He was telling me his wife was all wrapped up in the kids, and while she was hot, their sex wasn't enough for him. I hadn't intended to reveal too much of myself to him, but I ended up confiding the total truth. He was just my second lover in person, and my first one was only about two months earlier, but I'd been screwing around online and by phone for over a year. I didn't want to leave my husband, but the sex was too powerful for me I needed it, I hated to admit it. Chuck seemed to completely understand, he answered me with a long, wet kiss, telling me I was no different from a dozen other married women he'd met. And fucked. The last sex session involved his camera. He wanted pictures of me. I was reticent at first, not wanting my face in the same photograph as my body or his body, and Chuck completely understood. He wasn't taking no for an answer, but, he promised never to show photographs of me to anyone -- just like, in the photographs that I had seen from him, I never saw any married women's faces who didn't want to be seen. Sitting there nude in his hotel bedroom, my pussy wanting more cock, hearing what I wanted to hear, I of course said yes. Chuck photographed me sucking his penis, licking it up and down, then he also took photos of me nude by myself. Spread open, or from the backside as I was bent over, a few like that. Finally he spread me open on my back, entered me with his gorgeous dick, and took photos of his cock inside my cunt. He also photographed his huge swollen pole titfucking my big breasts, which I wrapped around his meat as it bobbed back at forth at my face. I got more ass-fucking, for a little bit anyway, I was too sore there to fuck long but he got some action photographs of that. Finally, for his last orgasm of the day, he spewed his hot jism all over my sweaty, smiling face, and photographed the happy result. Then I licked it clean. I was definitely a cum whore now. We promised to stay in touch, and he emailed me all of the photos later that afternoon so I have them too. I had a feeling I'd never see Chuck again, and that was okay to me. Instead, as I drove home, I was focused on another looming feeling, one that was changing my view of myself. Despite all the guilt of lying to my husband to go downtown and cheat with a traveling businessman, I loved myself for doing it. I was hot, I made very sexy men horny for me, and the sex was amazing. I wasn't going to stop. Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 03 Later that afternoon, just before my husband returned home, I was on the phone telling Belinda that she was my excuse for going into the city. Belinda cajoled me into revealing what really happened, and she was thrilled to hear that I'd gotten fucked by a hung, horny stud. Hell, she asked me for Chuck's email address -- only half-jokingly. "You know," Belinda predicted sagely, probably smiling on her end of the phone call, "that you're hooked now -- you're gonna want more and more sex all the time, aren't you?" Exhausted from the stressful and fun-filled day, I sighed and didn't really give it much thought. "If I can feel every day like I feel right now -- sign me the fuck up!" "You married slut," snickered my best friend, "what a tramp!" She didn't mean it in a negative way, but it didn't matter. She was right. But then again -- so what? Fuck that! Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 04 4. The Condo: I'm Melanie. I'm a 30 year old, married slut who cheats on her husband almost daily, if not even more often than that, because he can't come close to satisfying me and I can't possibly get enough cock anyway. This is another entry in my memoirs. At the time I'm writing this, I've got about eight to ten guys who I count as "boyfriends" -- guys I fuck somewhat regularly. I decided to write down how I got here -- the doting, boring suburban housewife to the cheating, cock-loving little bitch that I know I am -- because I know how impressed many guys are with me. I've done some really, ridiculously naughty things. Really depraved, outrageous things. Two years ago, before all this started, I barely even had fantasies about some of the things I've done. I can't get enough attention from hung, sexy men (and hot ladies too!). I want every reader of this to crave me, as much as I crave the men in my life. Don't you want me? My petite 125 pound frame, my long dark hair and slender, triangular face, my hot small ass, my gorgeous C-cup tits. I'm here for you, baby, are you man enough to please me, hmm? So go on, grab your dick (or jam your fingers in your twat), read on and I hope you get off as hard as I have! * * * * (I recall this momentous event happened on a crisp and chilly, early December day this past winter; not freezing and snowy, but "warm" enough -- by our Pennsylvania standards -- to have been October.) Having been cheating on my husband with other men -- in person -- for about six months, my sexual escapades were teaching me a lot about myself. Some things I wouldn't have guessed. But in my decisions of whose emails I was going to respond to, you know, what did I find really attractive in a man, I found some surprises. Like, maybe a guy's money was attractive me, even if the guy wasn't a rock-hard stud? I'd married my husband in part because he's from a well-off family and had a secure job at the large family company. We got engaged my senior year in college, and I gave up any idea of a career of my own, because he had a family nest egg in case his self-financed lifestyle fell through. We don't live rich, but his daddy is worth a few dozen million, and there's no way we'll be broke, ever. In fact, it was my luxurious life of not having a job that led me to the freedom of fucking other men all the time. My husband worked day to night, while I got to stay home and do whatever I pleased. Sleep in, work out, go window-shopping. I love to shop, but I don't dare buy anything except the most trivial items, lest my husband object to my spending habits. He works, I spend, that sort of thing. I could go to school (but why?), I could start my own at-home business (tried that, hated it), my life was my own. I ended up filling most days online, having cybersex or phonesex, and then later finding men to go meet to fuck. From September to late November, besides our handyman Roger whom I'd been fucking since July, I met and got laid by four men from the Internet -- Chuck, once in a hotel room; Mark, a hot married stud was I had been able to see only twice, which was disappointing since he was a great fuck; and a couple guys I'd seen four or five times, Justin and Max. I was meeting most of the men from my online personal ad, advertising that a horny married 29 year old wanted to get laid by handsome guys with big cocks. I'd met a lot of men in chat rooms, but none were local to me. But the ad created a steady stream of emails from respondents trying to solicit some naked time with me, and I spent a lot of time each week reading through emails and wondering if guys were worthy of my response. Some were; few panned out to be real opportunities that sounded interesting to me. One such opportunity was the message from Paul. Now, Paul is hot in a different way. A self-made multimillionaire, he had a huge mansion in the most expensive part of town, and a house in Florida, and a wife and kids, and a very expensive sports car. He was in his late 40s, he was fit although not athletic, he was handsome although not scorching hot. But, as his nude pictures showed, he looked good without clothing, and his 6 1/2 inch penis was thick and popping with veins, and streaming with cum and pussyjuice as it was in the photo I saw, I instantly thought about fucking it. Paul's offer, however, was more than just his cock. He wrote in his email that he was married but had a girlfriend who was 23 years old, and she was living in a condo her daddy bought for her. Turned out, his girlfriend Blayne came from big money too, and she didn't work but lived a rich kid's life in the city. I guess these high-life snobs met somehow and started fucking all the time in her waterfront condo. Paul wrote me saying, if I was interested, he and Blayne loved to include a second female time to time, and I was "gorgeous" and they'd love to have a threesome with me. Damn, a threesome. I'd talked about them with men and women online, and even passed over an opportunity for one in college with my then-roommate. (Would have been too weird, I thought.) Paul was not bad looking, but the photos of Blayne were exceptional. She was a blonde, slender, proportionate small breasts, super-long golden hair, and her body looked fit and tanned in the bikini she was wearing in the photos. There was a lot of back-and-forth about this, and I can't remember all the details even if I had the patience to relate them. I exchanged emails with Paul, got to see a video of Paul and Blayne fucking, and also a video of Blayne doing a "69" with another female (or, it looked like it was Blayne, her face was buried in some bitch's crotch). We played phonetag a bit because, I guess, Paul is a rather busy guy. He never put me in direct touch with Blayne, but he forwarded me a voicemail from her where Blayne said to him, "She's sooo hot, I'd luuuuuv to do her with you!" That made me cum, just hearing it. It was almost frustrating, thinking I had an opportunity for a very interesting afternoon but never able to schedule it, until it just happened quickly one morning. My husband left for work, I was nude and checking my emails on my iPhone. Paul wrote at that moment, and we were on the phone talking. How about today. After lunch. One pm. He gave me Blayne's address, and details about where to park. Buzz up to her condo, number somethingorother. See you then. Another trip into the city, although not as difficult a drive, as one previously where I went to a downtown hotel to fuck a business guy I met on the Internet, Chuck. This trip to the city my husband would never know about, I just wouldn't tell him. I was at the condo building too early, nervously fidgeting on a bench outside the building about 20 minutes early. It wasn't a frigid December day as would be typical of our part of Pennsylvania, but it was just chilly, like late October or something. Windy too. If it had been a nice day I might have waited the 20 minutes, but in that weather I wanted to get inside past the locked vestibule. So I pulled out my iPhone and emailed Paul that I'd arrived already, and a moment later he called to say he'd be there soon, we could go up together. So more nervous waiting, although it was probably only about ten minutes or so, when a handsome, well-dressed man walked up to me. Paul put his hand out, graciously telling me how much more sexy and attractive I was in person than in the photos, and if I was "ready" we could go up and "hang out with Blayne." "Okay." I took his hand, standing up, realizing I was blushing. My coat wasn't thick enough for the heavy wind, letting a gust of chilly air through what I was wearing, making me shiver as I stood in front of him. "I'm sorry if I seem nervous, I -- well, this is a little different for me." Paul seemed to understand. "You won't have to do anything you don't want to," he promised, "but, Blayne is really cute and fun, trust me you'll have a good time." This was one expensive condo, it was marble and brass all over, huge paintings and sculptures. Paul was very relaxed, which helped because I felt like I was stepping outside my world coming into the place. The elevator had an old guy working in it, and he certainly knew Paul. We went up to the top floor, and soon we were at Blayne's door. The blonde was smiling and giggly as she let us in. She was wearing nothing particularly fancy -- tight jeans and a worn t-shirt -- but her makeup was plentiful, and her long blonde hair was done up in curled, teased 'do. When she saw me, she had a lusty look, one that men often gave me. That actually relaxed me too; there was no ice between us. "Hi, Melanie, can I take your coat?" Snickering, I knew that removing my coat would draw a reaction. I dressed for a threesome. As I pulled my raincoat off, Paul and Blayne saw me wearing only a see-through mesh negligee, with black g-string thong underneath. My tits might as well have been naked, they could see my areolas and stiff nipples through the mess, and the slit of my shaved cunt was visible in the mesh thong. Yeah, I was nervous dressing like that with only a coat over it, and felt doubly weird wearing it on the street, but a horny voice in my head told me it would be more fun to wear it. See what reaction I'd get. Paul reacted by whistling, and Blayne actually stepped back as if blown away, her face lighting up in delight. She took my coat, her eyes on my tits and crotch, and she said, "Holy shit, you're hot!" So an awkward moment happened, I'm standing there almost nude with a horny guy and his girlfriend, and I didn't know the etiquette. I was the third person, the add-on, I didn't know what to do. So I stood there, stupidly, horny, showing off my tits and cunt, instantly thinking maybe I should have dressed more conservatively. My hesitation was resolved quickly, when Paul took over. "Darling," he said to his young girlfriend, sliding to stand next to her, "maybe you should put on something like her cute little outfit." He playfully chastised her for not being "dressed" for the afternoon, and she mockingly scolded him back about setting it up so late, and she only woke up not long ago after partying the previous night. Paul took my hand, leading me into a plush, well-decorated living room while Blayne disappeared into her upstairs bedroom. He sat on the large leather sofa, pulling me to sit sideways on his lap, my slender legs stretched down the sofa and his crotch throbbing against the side of my buttocks. I felt one of his arms behind my back, his other hand resting on my naked knee. Disarming my nerves further, he began whispering in my ear how much he looked forward to today, and how much he'd been thinking about me since seeing my ad. The fact I responded to him "made his day," whatever that day was, and he said he and Blayne had been talking about my visit ever since he brought it up with her. Obviously full of himself, he kept talking about how his wife "runs the roost" at home, but they had "grown apart" and he was spending more and more time with Blayne. "I would think we'll end up together, someday," he confided in me. Meanwhile, as he talked to me, I felt his hand behind my back sliding down to my butt. As I sat on his lap, he began stroking my small asscheeks through my negligee, his fingertips tracing the outline of my bony ass. His voice quivered, as his eyes stared at my nice tits in the see-through outfit. "You sure are delicious, Melanie." "Mmm, is that right?" I leaned over to rub my nose against his, not really caring his girlfriend and soon-to-be wife might be walking in on us. They invited me over, after all. He let me rub his nose, giggling, then I kissed his nose quickly. "I didn't dress wrong, did I?" "Oh no," came his quick response. Blayne added her thoughts too. "Here, maybe this is better?" Striding down the stairway, the sexy mistress was wearing only a red negligee herself. I could see her round firm butt uncovered by a string thong, then the shape of her pussy in the tight panel of the thong. The negligee had faux red fur around the top hem and spaghetti straps, but her nipples were visible below it through the lacy fabric. The little dress stopped about mid-waist. She'd also put on red thigh-high stockings, giving her a sleek, packaged look. "Baby, this more what you had in mind?" Paul moaned, patting the sofa next to himself for his kept woman. "Oh, definitely." He smiled at me, lifting my legs so Blayne could sit hip-to-hip with him, so that as I sat sideways on his lap, I was facing her with my legs crossing her lap too. "Now you two look like a matched set." We three started talking, and it lowered the heat I'd brought into the room with me. Hooking my arm behind Paul's shoulder, I leaned back on the sexy older man and pushed my C-cup tits forward, knowing both he and the 23 year old blonde were staring at them. Blayne' slender hand took to caressing my feet and calves, while Paul's hand was still touching the curves of my butt. I felt sexy, but not needing instant physical contact, as we began talking. They were asking what kind of men I'd met online, and if I'd accepted any dates. I told them about Chuck, and mentioned Adam and Roger. Blayne said they'd had two guys and one female join them whom they met on the internet -- giggling that she meant all at different times, not at one big orgy. Paul wouldn't rule out an orgy with all of them, jokingly, and Blayne said she didn't need "more than what we have here," smiling at me with a wink. Paul started asking if I'd been with another girl, and I confided I hadn't. I had to further confess I was a little apprehensive about it, but "excited" because Blayne was so gorgeous. She gave me another wink, squeezing my feet in place of a hug. It was clear to me who was really motivated to have me over, so Paul told me I needed to get "more friendly" with Blayne. He lifted me off of himself, putting me sideways on Blayne's lap now, us to girls sitting right next to him, me facing him this time. Suddenly, I was very nervous, but very horny. I felt Blayne's breath on my naked neck, and smelled her perfume and her wet pussy. I felt gentle in her arms, held by a slightly taller but still petite female, both of us barely dressed. I could see Paul eyeing us together, enjoying the view of his blonde girlfriend in red and a hot brunette in black together. He nudged Blayne, nodding at me, and the fun started. Blayne started making out with me. I hadn't kissed a girl that way before, but I told myself, treat it like a guy. Only, a girl isn't a guy. Her lips were sensuous, her tongue soft and melodious, her breaths were different and her presence inside my mouth was relaxing. We moaned together, she let me suck her tongue, then she returned the favor, and soon I was in a full-fledged face-sucking kiss with another woman. I turned around on her lap, straddling her, facing her, my legs spread open over her hips and my face pressing down into hers. Blayne's hands started cupping my naked buttocks, and next to us Paul was barely stirring, watching. "Mmm," purred Blayne, breaking the kiss to look at her much older boyfriend, "she's a good kisser, Paul!" "Really?" He leaned forward. "Mind if I find out?" Now I was kissing Paul, his much more powerful, probing tongue filling my mouth, driving my jaw open. Still squatting on Blayne, I was facing her, and she moved her mouth to my chest. I felt my negligee pulled down, my C-cup tits exposed, and the blonde started sensuously licking and suckling my tits while her boyfriend and I made out. Paul's hand groped my other buttock, so both of them had their hands on my firm little ass, and I couldn't help but grind my wet cunt against Blayne's abdomen through out flimsy clothing underneath me. Everything the rest of that afternoon, and I mean about 2 and a half hours of it, was at Paul's direction. He wasn't like a "dom" and us "subs," but everything that happened was at his direction or with his blessing. Not so much controlling as self-centered, as if Blayne was afraid to challenge his emotions by doing anything he didn't want. Paul liked the visual aspect of it too. He stripped and leaned on the sofa on his knees, having me suck his nice cock while Blayne went behind me to lick my butthole and vagina. Wow, I had some orgasms from her! She was really, really good eating me, which I kind of expected would be the case. Guys can't understand exactly what we feel, and she knew what buttons to push, so to speak. She used her fingers and thumbs perfectly too, toying with my clitoris just as I hit a crescendo, sending me over into cums while Paul stuffed my mouth with his prick. He was the third guy I'd fucked since I started cheating, and by now I was learning to take dick in my throat. Paul was smaller than Roger and Chuck, thank god, so I was able to get him into my throat a little bit without choking or vomiting, as Roger had experienced in our last fuckfest. Paul cummed in my mouth, but had me not swallow so I could spit it into Blayne's mouth in a "snowball." It was a messy affair, we girls were laughing because the shit got everywhere on our lips and jaws. She kissed me, to suck up the cum, and that was sexy, sharing male sperm with another female mouth-to-mouth. Then it was off to the bedroom, where Paul watched her and me strip each other while doing a sexy dance together. I thought about stripping for Chuck and kind of did the same thing, gyrating and touching a lot, but paying more attention to Blayne than myself. She was like a partner, we were entertaining Paul. She smiled a lot, she smelled very feminine, and she clearly really appreciated me; her purrs and kisses were not perfunctory. It was easy to be with her. Which was good, because I was with her a lot! Although Paul was nude too, most of the early action on the bed was exclusively between us females. We made out, fondled each other's bodies, and I touched the first female vagina other than my own. Its juices tasted a lot like mine, on my and her fingers. Then I was pushed back, and Blayne continued to eat me while I wormed around, cumming, moaning, clutching her long blonde hair. Paul kissed me a little and let me hold -- not jerk -- his cock, while he just admired the two-girl sex. Of course, I knew what was going to happen, and the longer it took to happen the more nervous I was. I knew I had to lick Blayne's shaved pussy, which I wanted to do, yet also was afraid to do. But, lying on my back, suddenly she turned around for a "69" position and it was there, above my face, wet and pink, leaking, smelly, so sexy. She wasn't offering it to me, as much as expecting it. I stuck out my tongue, closed my eyes, and thought, what would make her feel the best? So I started rapidly tonguing her clitoris, vigorously licking it around, and alternatingly suckling it between my tight lips. I glanced over, naked horny Paul was staring at me eating his girlfriend's twat. I smiled at him, and went to town, shoving my tongue inside her wet hole, stretching my tongue as deep as I could. We ate each other out, orgasming in each other's mouths. I drank mouthfuls of Blayne's sexy female juices, realizing I was pretty good at eating a cunt, which should have been no shock to me. Paul just sat on his ass, growing more horny, watching us intently. Blayne and I didn't just 69, we took turns eating each other, and made out a lot, tasting each other's cum in our mouths, using fingers as much as tongues to screw each other's pussies. At times, I almost forgot Paul was there, until his cock was against my hand or mouth, if only briefly. But, eventually, Paul had to get his sex too. He had me lie flat, Blayne sitting on my face, so I continued to eat her cunt while Paul mounted me. I couldn't see him but I felt him rub his hard prick against my twat, then with a shove he was fucking me, while making out with his girlfriend. He felt good, better than my husband, not as big as the huge pricks I'd fucked recently before him. Already having cum so much from Blayne's sex, I didn't cum right away, instead I gripped my slender knees and spread myself open to get used by Paul. Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 04 Used is the proper term. After Blayne crawled off my face, Paul paid attention to me with kisses, but it wasn't personal, not like Chuck kissed me. I guess that is how a whore kisses her client, we went through the motions -- very fun motions -- without any real emotions. He pumped his dick in and out of my married twat while Blayne watched, rubbing herself, then Paul had me ride him backwards so Blayne could suck his balls and lick my clitty. Paul's second load shot all over my pussy, and he had Blayne lick me clean. That was sexy, feeling male sperm licked off my pussylips and asscheeks by another girl. There was a lot of sex on that bed, I couldn't remember the entire order in detail. But his cock could only fuck so much, he didn't last as long as Chuck or Roger could, and he spent most of his time fucking me not his girlfriend. I suppose, that's normal, he fucks her all the time. But I felt back for Blayne, I even asked if she had a dildo for me to use on her. Paul didn't like hearing that, at least he said, "later when I'm done." But, you know, he wasn't done until it was time for me to go back home to my quaint suburban lifestyle. Don't get me wrong, it was hot fucking sex. I was on my fours at one point, Blayne's cunt beneath my dripping wet face while Paul was taking my doggy-style. I looked back at him, telling him his cock felt great and I wanted him to fuck me harder than my husband ever did. Blayne purred, "yeah make her wish she was married to you," given that Paul had earlier told me she wished he was married to her. Paul snickered, depriving me of his cock a bit until I begged him to fuck me more, then when he shoved into me I almost instantly had a cum. His dick did feel great inside my cunt. So good, I didn't want to leave, he had four cums that afternoon, and I was still spread open on my back, begging him to fuck me again. Having the naked blonde with us was turning me on more, but I wanted dick, not pussy. Not a bisexual, remember. Paul, heaving with sweat, didn't want to disappoint so he mounted me one more time. It was a dry fuck, he didn't cum again, but he was hard enough for me to feel him and cum again myself. During that last fuck, I kept thinking, if I'm going to cheat on my husband, I better enjoy every bit of it. For my first three-some since I'd started cheating on my husband, it wasn't bad. Paul's need to be boss-man kind of put a damper on it all, I definitely came out of it feeling like, that could have been better but I wasn't disappointed I went. I did get something out of that day, however: A friend. About a week after the threesome, probably about the week before Christmas, Blayne finally got a hold of me. By "finally," I mean, she managed to find my email address without Paul finding out. There was a lot about the two of them I didn't completely realize, at the time, but would come to be told later. Blayne wrote me something like, hey you were a lot of fun, if you have a day free let's meet for lunch. She recommended someplace in the city I'd never even heard about, she said it would be her treat. I have to say, I felt weird about it. Meeting men for lunch and sex was natural; meeting a younger female for lunch and sex seemed, well, not really me. Kind of an out-of-body experience. But I went to meet her, dressed in slutty lingerie under a conservative attire, expecting we'd have a short lunch then go back to her condo to fuck. I had to psych myself up for it -- I mean, get mentally prepared to have girl/girl sex. No cocks involved. It was going to be interesting, I figured, something different for me. Didn't happen that way, we didn't fuck after that lunch. Blayne is a strange bird. She lives in her own world, paid for by a rich daddy, filled with other kids who party too much, men who want to fuck her, and friends who are probably more into themselves than Blayne is into herself (which is a lot). We didn't talk about me very much, we talked about Blayne. Where she likes to shop, what kind of alcohol she prefers, what she likes in men, what she wants to do with her life. I think she needed a sounding board, and being a married, slightly older gal from the suburbs, she saw me as more grounded and "normal" than the other people she hangs out with. (Paul, it turns out, was barely a passtime for her; while he thought Blayne was really into him, Blayne laughed off the suggestion she'd want to be his full-time woman.) So, over a pretty ritzy French meal, we talked, and talked, and talked. Two and a half hours. Just like two gals getting together for lunch, nothing else. It started snowing outside, that kept us lingering at the restaurant a bit longer too, it was a real peaceful, friendly afternoon. In the six months since then, I talk to Blayne a couple times a week, trade emails all the time, and have "done lunch" maybe a half-dozen times. Oh, yeah, and we've fucked each other, girl-on-girl, after about half of those lunches, maybe not more than four times if I count correct. We don't ever really get together just for sex. It'll be like, after we're done eating or shopping, she might ask if I have anywhere to go. Or I'll ask, is she busy. We kind of look at each other with knowing smiles, and she'll say, wanna come back to my condo? Ah, the condo. We only go there for one reason -- to get naked. Even the first time back in it after the three-some, I think it was after our third lunch together, we immediately started making out and stripping each other. It's a huge, fancy condominium, and when I'm there, pretty much the only part of it I spend time in is her bed. I still don't think I'm a bisexual. But when Blayne has her creamy thighs spread open, pulling back her knees, offering me her wet, pink vagina, I can't help myself, I bury my tongue in it. I love making her orgasm, knowing that I can pleasure a woman is even more rewarding than having established (zillions of times) that I can make a guy's cock hard and cum. Blayne has sexy, loud squeals when she cums, then moans and pets me in a delighted purr. It's sweet and sexy. Maybe I am a bisexual now. But what's in a name? I just know what I like, I don't care what labels anyone's going to put on me. Fuck that! Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 05 5. The Store: I'm Melanie. I'm a 30 year old, married slut who cheats on her husband almost daily, if not even more often than that, because he can't come close to satisfying me and I can't possibly get enough cock anyway. This is another entry in my memoirs. At the time I'm writing this, I've got about eight to ten guys who I count as "boyfriends" -- guys I fuck somewhat regularly. I decided to write down how I got here -- the doting, boring suburban housewife to the cheating, cock-loving little bitch that I know I am -- because I know how impressed many guys are with me. I've done some really, ridiculously naughty things. Really depraved, outrageous things. Two years ago, before all this started, I barely even had fantasies about some of the things I've done. I can't get enough attention from hung, sexy men (and hot ladies too!). I want every reader of this to crave me, as much as I crave the men in my life. Don't you want me? My petite 125 pound frame, my long dark hair and slender, triangular face, my hot small ass, my gorgeous C-cup tits. I'm here for you, baby, are you man enough to please me, hmm? So go on, grab your dick (or jam your fingers in your twat), read on and I hope you get off as hard as I have! * * * * (I think this happened late this past February, or maybe very early March, about three months ago.) There was one event, just a few months ago, when I realized I was completely out of control at cheating behind my husband's back with multiple sex partners. By this past February, about four months ago, my life was BUSY. I went from the bored, good suburban housewife to the little married tramp who couldn't get enough sex. I was fucking myself regularly with fingers and toys, getting off on cybersex, phone sex and video sex (iPhone and Skype) with hot men from the Internet. I had a half-dozen men I liked to meet for sex, and I tried not to make it too regular with any of them or else I was going to end up in the dreaded "Relationship," note the capital "R" there. There was Roger, my first fuck, a handyman; then men from online, like Mark, Justin and Max; and my new fuck buddy, the 23 year old blonde Blayne who enjoyed girl/girl sex with me. But hampering my sexuality was my schedule. I had to wait for my husband to leave in the morning, and I had to be home around dinner time. Couldn't go out at night, hardly on weekends. It's tough to find attractive, sexy men who are available for sex between 9 am to 5 pm! I mean, guys who aren't working those hours tend not to be very attractive (way too old, way too young, or losers). Guys like Roger or from online can take off of work, but it ends up being one or two hours of hot, sweaty sex, little time for seducing, foreplay, or pillow talk. If there was one thing I wanted, I figured, it was a guy who was into me, but not too much so that he was getting romantic; someone who lived close, like 5 or 10 minutes away whom I could bang anytime I wanted; and someone who didn't mind me fucking other people. Did they have men like that? I'd never met one. Oh, and he had to have his own apartment, I was getting tired of sex in the backseats of minivan (been there, done that) or a smelly, cheap motel. Funny how life works out. Truth really is stranger than fiction. It was about four months ago, around my 30th birthday. That day, my husband and I had long-existing plans for a dinner engagement with his dad's business partner, his bitchy trophy wife, and some other couple my husband knew. This was a Big Deal to my husband, you know. A Thursday evening event downtown, one of those things a wife has to do to support her husband, even though there was nothing in it for me. No, I didn't have sex with anyone at the dinner event, that's not what I mean. It was a memorable day for a different reason. I had to get my hair done, I went shopping for new shoes, I even needed to get more conservative underwear so it wouldn't appear obvious through my evening dress that I had a strong thong on. My husband rarely saw me in them, even though my dresser was stuffed with them. Not that he'd ever look. The timing of events was important. It was like 3:30 in the afternoon, my husband would be home at 5:30 and we were going to leave by 6 at the latest. I had my hair done nicely, I was driving home when I realized we probably should eat before we leave, because after cocktails and the long service at a fancy restaurant, it would be hours until I had real food in me. So I stopped by the grocery store, just to hunt for something my husband and I could eat quickly. I was not the person I had been a year earlier, as I walked into the store. I hadn't gone to the gym that particular day, but I was dressed for it, wearing a pull-over sweatshirt above tight Lycra Capri pants (meaning, they went halfway down my calves). With the large sweatshirt my butt was mostly covered, but when I wasn't paying attention, I suspect my small ass would be on display in the skin-tight black pants. In addition, I was an entirely sexual creature by that time in my life, constantly horny. Constantly. That particular day I hadn't had actual cock in me for like six days at that point, I think I had fucked Roger or one of the guys from online the Friday of the previous week. I had had an orgasm early in the day from cybersex online, but that was it. By late afternoon, I was dying to get home and fuck myself before my husband came home. I was in fact trying to get home by 4, so I would have 90 minutes to play online and even get in a good phonefuck if one of my online boyfriends was available. Standing there in the deli section, looking over prepared foods and sides, I sensed a male presence behind me, close to me but not violating my personal space. I turned around, and a handsome, 40-something year old was standing there, wearing an open-collar dress shirt and nicely pressed slacks. His dark hair was cut close, he had a small piercing on one nostril (a small gold ring), he hadn't shaved in a couple of days, and his form was fit and athletic. The kind of guy who gets my attention. His green eyes were glued to the sight of my small ass in my Lycra pants, and he wasn't apologetic about it. I wasn't expecting that, and I didn't know what to think. I wasn't offended; I was constantly horny, and the attention to my sexy butt reaffirmed my femininity. I giggled softly, making light of attention. "I'll just be a minute," I told him, as if he was mad at me being in line ahead of him. The guy shrugged. "Take all your time," he said sincerely, quietly, affably, "I don't mind waiting here, not at all." I figured he was talking about looking at my hot ass, and the slut in me actually liked his answer, although it was probably more foreword than polite manners would have allowed. I was waiting for the girl behind the counter, who was busy wrapping something with her back to us, so we just stood there. That's when I felt the guy moving to my side, and I looked up at him. He was about six foot, so a good 10 inches taller than me. I smiled at him, unsure what he was intending. He popped on me the most provocative opening line any guy had ever said to me in person. "I'm not sure which I'd want to put in first into that hot ass of yours, my tongue or my seven inch dick." My breath was taken away from me, shocked anyone could say that to me. I turned to face him, looking up at him. But I wasn't mad, my vagina instantly wettened in a thong inside my tight Lycra pants, and I gazed at him with amazement any guy could say that to me. What gall! I had reason to smack him, or even call the cops if I wanted. Damn, that was some confidence. Plus, with the unshaven chin, the firm body, the nice clothing, even the small nose piercing ... this guy was pretty hot. He saw me reaction was not entirely negative, so he didn't wait for me to say anything. "Look, of course I see that huge wedding ring on your hand," he explained without blushing, but with a suave, disarming demeanor, "but I also see your gorgeous butt in those tight pants, and I think to myself, you don't mind that other men stare at you and fantasize about you. In fact--" He looked hard at me, leaning over me now, proud of himself that he had my attention. "In fact, you probably wish your husband had more balls like guys like me, someone who thinks good sex doesn't end until all of your holes are stretched out and you can't put your knees together." With a finishing flair, he raised an eyebrow at me. "Am I right?" I had to repress a desire to laugh, but at the same time, my pussy loved his words. What kind of prick would walk up to a married woman and say THAT? One that would say, "Fuck that!" Just like me! See, he must have known I would be receptive to it. I don't know how, but this guy knew. He knew. I was impressed, and I wasn't going to make him feel bad for it. In fact, as I saw him staring at my eyes, I was actually turned on. "Or," I said playfully, both trying to encourage him as well as give me a reason to get on with my day, "maybe I wore this because I went to the gym, and I wasn't trying to get any attention?" The guy wasn't buying it, he shook his head and snickered at me. "Naw, your hair is perfect, you didn't just work out, and you aren't going to the gym because you're buying warm food you need to get home." His smirk wasn't condescending, but he was getting past my excuse. "So, I think you just like having your hot ass in that tight outfit. Not that there's anything wrong with it -- you do have a gorgeous butt, it should be in tight outfits." He shrugged at the thought. "It should be on a display somewhere, for all guys to admire." I couldn't believe he was saying this, I mean, there were guys online who aren't as direct as this. And he was doing it with a complete stranger, in a grocery store. But, as I blinked at him, I didn't respond fast enough, giving him a chance to keep talking. He said, "You haven't slapped me yet, so my guess is, you know you have a hot butt, you love that I love it, and you wonder if I'm worthy of a chance to stretch it out." God, he was good. I was hooked on every word, as nasty and improper as it was, I loved hearing it, every bit of it. "Well, maybe," I shrugged, my non-denial saying so much to him, "how WOULD you prove you're worthy?" The guy leaned into my ear, and whispered words that would change my day. "Come out to my car with me, and you can just go home to your boring life, if you don't like what you see in my pants." Fuck, he was picking me up! And not being modest about it whatsoever. What a prick he was! I loved him already, of course I was going back to his car. "Don't think I'm agreeing to anything," I scolded in my most bitchy voice, "but I wanna see what gives you such confidence." The wheels in my head were moving quickly, I was trying not to seem like the slut I really was. "You're at risk of being laughed at, y'know, buddy?" The pervert chuckled. "I'll take that risk, honey -- but you're at risk of wanting me to fuck your hot ass." Seriously, people this conversation happened in the deli line at the grocery store. I'm not making that up. No one could make up shit like this! So, the married slut with the hot ass in Lycra pants went out to his car in the parking lot, not getting anything for dinner. He drove a 7 Series BMW, a really pricey car. Another guy with money. See? It's my type. It's a big, four-door sedan with tinted windows. He climbed into the back seat, motioning for me to get in the front passenger seat. "Just enjoy the view," he said just before his head disappeared into the back of the car. It was complete non-threatening; I mean, he could have overpowered me, but he was just horny. He would be in the back seat, I had nothing to fear. I frankly wasn't even afraid, I was turned on. Standing in the parking lot with no one watching us, and my pussy aching to see what this hot pervert was packing, I opened the fancy car and slipped into the luxurious leather seat, peering into the back seat. I kept the door slightly ajar, but like I said, he was no threat. In the middle of the backseat, leaning back, he snickered at my attention. "I think a woman like you wants something like this." With that, he unfastened his pants, and I realized he wasn't wearing any underwear. Instead, I was staring at a very handsome, throbbing 7 inch penis that had a firm purple helmet, a fat sack of balls, and ribs and ridges that would feel great squeezing into a tight pussy. I'd seen bigger and better, so I shrugged. "That's pretty okay," snickered the slutty woman in his car, trying to play with his mind while buying a few moments to keep looking at the dick. "You think I'm gonna leave my husband for THAT, thought?" I caught myself, saying before he did, "Or, just cheat on him, at least?" The guys stroked his meat, getting harder from me looking at it, as his eyes gazed at the sweatshirt I was wearing. "I bet you got big tits, don't you," he grunted, "besides a perfect ass?" He then looked in my face, and his voice was entirely sincere and friendly, not perverted for a moment. "C'mon, let me just get a peek at your titties, can you show them to me, then you can go if you want?" I paused, knowing this wasn't a good idea, but it was no different from the men I met online. Alright, it was different in context, but not in terms of showing off my tits. I was proud of them, he wanted to see them, it was harmless. Kid's stuff, like we were in grade school showing off after classes. "Fine, that's all though," I told him, rolling my sweatshirt up into a ball under my armpits. I was wearing a sports bra under it, a white and black one, firmly covering my C-cups. The guy was staring at me, not salivating but hardly breathing, as I fished my fingers under the tight band of the sports bra and yanked it up and over my titties. A moment later, both of my nude hooters were on display for him, my pink areolas and nipples looking ready for close attention. "Shit, they're great," he said of my breasts, "what are they, C? D?" I nodded. "C, yeah, 32C." I was about to cover them up again, but liked him looking at them. I knew I was being accosted by a pervert, but he was a handsome one, and I actually felt like I was in control. Plus, I was now really, really horny. "You wanna see my ass too, honey?" Now I actually had him surprised, he blinked at me, unsure he was hearing it. But he liked it. "I'm sure I would -- how, here in the car? Or--" Those 90 minutes I was going to use for phonesex? I had another idea, one that would be more fun. "No." My voice was sharp and shrill, telling him the way it would be. "I'll come to your place now, but only if you promise to use that cock and your tongue on my ass -- and my other holes!" Yes, I was going there. I was letting myself get picked up for sex with a complete stranger. It felt FANTASTIC. I mean, saying those words, knowing he'd do it? I felt alive, vibrant, feminine. It was all the time online and with my lovers coming to a head. I could get it from hot strangers whenever I wanted it, and even when I wasn't looking for it. I think he didn't totally believe me at first, but when I leaned over from the backseat and sucked his nice penis a few moments, he was on board with the plan. He did live close, turns out he was separated and had a small apartment while his wife continued to live in their big house. I followed him in my car, not nervous at all but anxious to get laid before the big events of the evening. My biggest concern? That my nice hairdo would get fucked up. The guy had a decent apartment, even though a small one. Furnished by a guy on a small budget, where the size of the TV was more important than comfortable furniture. As we stepped inside and he locked the door behind me, I whipped around to smile at him, grinning up at his face nearly a foot taller than me. In a melodious, excited voice I sang, "I'm Melanie, and yes I'm married, and yes I love men who make me feel good. What's your name, baby?" He grinned, stepping up to me, directly in front of me, his hands reaching for both of my breasts underneath my sweatshirt before answering. "Michael," hissed his reply, "not that you really care." I allowed him to remove my sweatshirt, then I found myself staring at his big hands on my boobs inside my sports bra, which he quickly doffed too. Now I was topless, being fondled by a complete stranger, having to meet me husband in, what? I peeked at the time on his microwave. It was 3:50, I had to be home in about 90 minutes, if not sooner to leave by 6 pm for the Big Event. Better that Michael was so direct and not one to drag things out; if we were going to fuck, we better do it soon. "Mmm," admired the horny stud as he felt my mammary glands in his palms, rolling his thumbs around my firm nipples, feeling the weight of my tits. "You really do have great tits, Melanie. Now -- can I see that ass of yours?" "Ohhh, yeah, baby," I purred, the ultimate slut in me taking over. I loved his attention, loved that a guy who literally just saw my ass standing there was now going to fuck me. I was a fantasy maker, wasn't I? I turned my naked back to him, slipping my thumbs inside the waistband of my Lycra pants, and peeled them down, revealing my g-string thong. I saw him gazing at me, then I saw him move forward and put both hands on my buttocks before I'd even stepped out of my pants. That left me still wearing them, down at my ankles, while the stranger was groping my fleshy asscheeks. "Fuck yeah, that's a hot butt," muttered the horny stud to himself, "a hot married butt." He was unzipping again, whipping out his erection, and a moment later he was banging his dick against my buttcheeks, splattering some precum on my skin. "Would your hot married butt like some cock, or some tongue, stuffed in it right now?" The slut in front of him snickered. I stepped away from him to kick off my Lycra pants, leaving me in just the black g-string thong. "Mmm, actually, I'd like some cock in my pussy right now, if you don't mind?" To show him how horny I was, I instantly peeled off the thong to reveal my shaved vagina, glistening wet, and I tossed him the thong so he could smell how it was already soiled with my juices. "I don't have a lotta time, my husband will be home in a while, and I gotta make us dinner and get ready for a -- for some party tonight -- but I'm fuckin' horny, and I want you to fuck me, baby!" I stared into his eyes, emphasizing the point. "You don't mind fucking a horny married woman, do you Michael? I love your cock, I want you to make me feel good." Michael was taking my hand, so we could go find the bed and have sex. "I know you'll make me feel good, I hope to put a smile on your face that'll last your whole boring night," he giggled. I led Michael to the only bedroom in the apartment. Nude, I climbed onto it, spreading my slender legs, offering my body to him. He disrobed and joined me, crawling next to me, not on top of me. We started to kiss, while my hand wrapped around his boner while his fingers started to paw at my pussy. Shit I was wet, he was able to start finger-fucking me with one very stiff digit, while my small hand slowly jerked his throbbing penis. His kisses were wet, hungry, sliding tongue all over the inside of my mouth, around my teeth and gums, like he was surgically exploring my entire mouth. Grunting, both horny, I pulled him on top of me and guided his cock to my twat. "I'm a slut," I grunted, admitting the obvious, then reminding him of my schedule, "fuck me baby, I gotta see my husband in an hour." Michael grinned upon hearing that, the fact that I was married and cheating was turning him on. "Oooh, the married slut needs someone else's cock huh?" He leaned over me, his arms straight down so his torso floated above my body, moving his hard penis to my squishy vagina. "Your husband doesn't give you everything you need, huh?" Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 05 "No, baby!" I couldn't believe I was being so truthful to a total stranger, as I spread open my naked body under his to prepare to be fucked. "I need BIG dicks -- fuck me with that big, hot dick of yours!" Pressing the swollen head of his cock against my wet vagina, my new lover sneered with delight. "Fuckin' shame, you're so fuckin' gorgeous and sexy, and your husband doesn't satisfy you -- here comes what you need, you slut!" He stuck me with his dick, just about all of it, in one powerful stroke. He rammed me hard, powerfully. I could feel his jam against the tightness of my hole, he was stretching me open in one thrust to put a few inches of his manhood into my married pussy. The instant invasion was such a relief, it made my whole body tremble in satisfaction. I yelped at the top of my lungs, "Yesss!" as he began to penetrate me back and forth. I pulled my knees back even farther, offering my married cunt to his large erection, loving it more than my husband's little dick. We began fucking with a good rhythm, firm and steady, his taller body pumping forward and driving that meaty pole into my sloppy wet cunt, drawing breaths out of me, making me grunt and squeal in orgasmic delight. We were talking nasty too, the entire time, it was the most verbal fucking I'd ever had. He kept calling everything thing about me "married," like my "hot married tits," my "hot married cunt," my "gorgeous married body." I encouraged him to help me cheat, saying stuff like, "fuck my married cunt, baby, it needs your big dick, my hubby's is too small"; and, "I wish my husband had your big fuckin' cock, it feels soooo good inside my married twat!" He would return the thought, saying stuff like, "Here's what your married cunt needs," and, "Bitch is cheating to get what her small dicked husband can't give her." I profusely admitted it, "Yes, yes yes, give me what I need baby!" The thing about Michael was, he could LAST. I began having cums from the solid, nonstop fucking he was administering, and they continued after he flipped me onto my knees and boned my cunt doggy-style. Seeing him stare at me ass, I knew what part of me he loved the most, so I said with a sigh, "Alllllright, Michael, go ahead -- fuck my married ass, you perv!" He pulled his sword right out of my pussy and, without missing a beat, jammed it into my ultra-tight little butthole. His cock was well-lubricated from fucking my messy vagina, so with just a few thrusts, he was able to stretch out my butt enough to jam most of his penis inside me there. The long-lasting prick continued to screw me now in my poop hole, not stopping, over and over. I was rubbing my clit and making myself cum. He liked it a bit rough, reaching to my hair to yank it. Yes, my made-up hair, my expensive 'do from a salon at the mall. He uncurled it, wrapping my hair around his fingers, and using it as control strings to yank my torso and body around. I was screeching, loving the sex, my nipples so hard from being fucked in the ass like an animal. I didn't care that my hair was a mess now, I just wanted Michael to keep fucking me harder. "Godamned married bitch, you fuckin' WHORE," he roared at me, spitting saliva as he swore, pulling out of my ass while continuing to grab my hair. He didn't give me a choice, he shoved me messy, ass-covered dick into my mouth and throat, making me taste my own asshole. "That's it, you dumb married cunt, suck my nasty cock, taste your married ass on it,; show me what a fuckin stanky whore you are!" Indeed he was right, his cock was messy and stinky, dripping with liquids from inside my butthole as well as my cunt. The smell was sharp and sweet, way more intense than the scent of my pussy on a cock. But I was so turned on being fucked by this stranger, I did what he told me. Looking up at him submissively, I let him ass-to-mouth me, sucking his prick clean, showing him I was the consummate slut. He loved it, roaring, "Yeah you married slut, suck my big dick!" He turned me around to fuck my small tight butt a second time, if only to get his cock messy and have me lick it clean a second time. "Mmm, you like it, you nasty married slut, don't you, you like bein' nasty with another man's bigger cock?" "Uh huh!" I was entirely turned on, slurping half of his messy, disgusting penis into my mouth, my tongue running all over it, sucking every flavor off of it. "I can't get enough big dick, baby, I love yours!" Michael was one fun fuckmate, he had a slightly sinister streak that really pushed my buttons. He grabbed his throbbing penis and began smacking my face with his hardon, whapping me, making my saliva and other juices splatter around my face. I could feel the heat of his cock, it was so hard, stiff, burning. I was also so amazed he was still hard. It was like 4:30 now, I could see from the alarm clock beside his bed. Those big red numbers were beckoning to me. Melanie, finish this, fuck him some other time, you have to go. "Baby," I grunted up at him, his penis whipping against my forehead and nose, "don't you have to cum? I want to make you cum!" His voice sneered in desire for me. "You want some of my sperm, you cheating married bitch?" With one hand pumping his shaft, his other hand continued to grip my messy hair, holding my small triangular face firmly, while he aimed his erection right at my face. I could smell it, he was so close to cumming. "Tell me you want my spunk all over your married face, honey?" He didn't need to say it, I was already there. "Cum on my married face, baby!" I yelled at him. He was leaning above me, and with our eyes making contact, I saw him ball up a wad of thick saliva in his mouth, then he leaned down and he SPAT on my face. I felt a huge glob of his saliva splatter all over my eyelids and nose and forehead, I had to half close my eyes. It was so degrading, and so sexy, I loved it. Then, a moment later, his saliva on my eyelids was joined by a hot, gooey glob of sperm streaking out of his cock. Then another, and another, and another, and my face was being soiled with his manly semen. Sticky, stinky, gorgeous cum, all over me. "Ohh, yeah, you married cunt," grunted the stud as he ejaculated all over my face, "fuckin' cheating married whore!" Michael fully unloaded himself on my face and, yes, my hair, but he was still hard. He rubbed his penis through the pools of cum on me, making me lick his cock clean, going back and forth to "clean" me off. "Taste my spunk, you married slut, you like it don't you?" He saw me smile and lick him harder, I had to giggle at how he had me figured out. All he was really doing was spreading the jism around my face more and more. I felt used and degraded, being fucked in the face by a complete stranger, but it was turning me on. He knew it, too. After he cummed, he had me lie on my back on his bed, and he handed me a dildo. He told me he used it to fuck his own ass, but now, he wanted me to screw my ass with it. So, incredibly horny, although needing to leave, I let Michael watch me as I began to masturbate. I licked the dildo to get it wet, tasting something really anal and nasty, which only turned both him and me on more. Spreading wide, I guided the rubbery cock against my fucked ass and, with a moan, pushed it inside. I hadn't fucked my own ass before, but I loved having cock in it now and it was nearly the same thing. With Michael sitting there, nude, watching, it made me feel so adored and sexy. I started pushing that toy cock into my ass, further and further, feeling myself get stretched out. It got Michael hard, and the pervert jumped back on top of me. With the dildo still in my butt, he began shoving his cock into my cunt, effectively double-fucking me. I couldn't believe it, I was so tight, I felt his cock and that dildo rubbing together inside my body, my two holes felt like I was going to be ripped apart. Seriously, I LOVED IT. I began screaming, cumming, clutching at him and keeping my legs wide open with his dick ramming my pussy. His hands grabbed my tits and he was literally squeezing them, turning them red, he even leaned down and bit one of my nipples rather hard -- not drawing blood, but making me wince and yelp. I started cumming instantly. The guy was a real trip in bed, he was getting me to cum so easily. I didn't want to look at the clock, but I couldn't help it, it was now 4:50. Shit, I knew I had to go soon. But Michael was only getting started. He pulled the dildo out of my ass, and he had me get on top of him, so he could play with my big tits while I fucked him. Guys love that, watching my little body and my large breasts as I slipped up and down their huge dicks. It was a form of worship, Michael loving my body and my cunt loving his erection, so I gladly squatted over him and slid my cunt up and down that huge penis while his hands and mouth were all over my aching titties, biting and squeezing more. Then we fucked doggy-style. Then he was on top of me. Then I was on my tummy, flat on the bed, his cock ramming me from behind. It was all of that, in every order, over and over. Lots of kissing, pinching, smacking. He smacked my face a couple of times; I did it too, literally hitting him with an open fist, it felt good at the moment it happened. We were fucking savagely, it was so hot. "Fuck me Michael, fuck me, I'm a married whore!" I was cumming hard as I was saying that, and Michael lost it too. He was on top of me, he started having his second orgasm, squirting jism into my pussy. I never used condoms, it was probably a really bad idea, but it felt great. Fucking great. We made out next, my body was on fire, every limb was aching, and indeed my cunt and asshole were sore from being abused in the most delicious ways. We also got to talking -- well, mostly Michael was asking about me. What my life was like. Lying naked with a total stranger who'd just fucked me, I was unnaturally forthcoming and honest. Told him I'd been married for years, always been a good wife, only the past year doing internet and phone sex, then only the last few months fucking around. At first I thought Michael would think I was some kind of soiled, insecure sex addict. But he wanted details, he actually grew more interested the more I told him. So I mentioned the video sex with Adam, the way I seduced Roger in my kitchen, the sex with Paul and Blayne, and the sex with a handful of guys I'd met online. "I can't get enough cock, big cock I mean," I confided carefully, still worrying about Michael's reaction. He grinned and gave me the hottest, deepest, most tongue-filled kiss ever, while starting to paw at my sloppy wet vagina with probing fingers. We kept making out and talking, all the while Michael's hands roamed me, fondling my tits and ass, finger-fucking my pussy more, he couldn't stop. He was so turned on, and it was very endearing to me, it showed me how much I excited him -- not just my body but my sexuality. He was really turning me on again too. He wasn't the hottest guy I'd fucked, but he was attractive, sexy, and extremely kinky. Perverted, really. Everything about me seemed to turn him on too, and that excited me even more. So, yeah, even though it was 5:25, I laid on my back and spread my legs, and let him fuck me a third time, hard, deep, until he was squirting his last remaining drops of semen into my cunt. Holy shit, I had to get out of there. It was 5:45, we had to leave for downtown in 15 minutes and I was a fucking, stinky mess. I knew my husband would be furious, we'd be late for this very important event. I hated myself for it, but the slut in me loved it. The slut was taking over. I hurriedly thanked Michael and we exchanged numbers, and I flat-out guaranteed that we'd fuck again -- the next day, even (which we did). But I totally had to get home. And, yes, my husband was FURIOUS at me. He paces around, fists clenched, jaw stern, that wild look in his eyes. He doesn't say anything, he just simmered at full boil and turned red while I rushed to the bathroom. Lost track of time, I told him, lying that I'd been at the gym. Didn't have food to eat, my hair was fucked up, sperm was drooling out of my pussy. I took the fastest shower ever, but had to work my hair because it was so tangled. Sitting at my vanity, I could still feel Michael's cum dripping streaks down my slender thighs, it was a constant reminder of what a slut I was. We left at 6:50 pm, were really late because traffic sucked worse than usual, and my husband didn't talk to me on the way there, or the way home. The third couple at dinner was an investor, he basically didn't like my husband from the outset, and I don't think the fact we were an hour late or more helped. Total clunker of a night. The guy even stared at my tits in front of his wife, the pervert. No, he didn't get anything from me. My head was elsewhere, I was barely participating in the conversation. I sat at the table, stewing in my memories of the afternoon, knowing Michael's cum was in my vagina, and I was thinking to myself Michael would be a fun fuck buddy who lived close, had this own place, and with whom the sex was pretty hot. Plus, he didn't mind I fucked around with other guys -- he was, in a way, the perfect regular lover for me! But besides giving me a guy who might be able to satisfy my aching for kinky sex on a regular basis, I'd found out something else that afternoon. I was a real married whore, I chose sex with a total stranger over my own husband's career. Oh, well, you know what I say -- Fuck that! Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 06 6. The Bar: I'm Melanie. I'm a 30 year old, married slut who cheats on her husband almost daily, if not even more often than that, because he can't come close to satisfying me and I can't possibly get enough cock anyway. This is another entry in my memoirs. At the time I'm writing this, I've got about eight to ten guys who I count as "boyfriends" -- guys I fuck somewhat regularly. I decided to write down how I got here -- the doting, boring suburban housewife to the cheating, cock-loving little bitch that I know I am -- because I know how impressed many guys are with me. I've done some really, ridiculously naughty things. Really depraved, outrageous things. Two years ago, before all this started, I barely even had fantasies about some of the things I've done. I can't get enough attention from hung, sexy men (and hot ladies too!). I want every reader of this to crave me, as much as I crave the men in my life. Don't you want me? My petite 125 pound frame, my long dark hair and slender, triangular face, my hot small ass, my gorgeous C-cup tits. I'm here for you, baby, are you man enough to please me, hmm? So go on, grab your dick (or jam your fingers in your twat), read on and I hope you get off as hard as I have! * * * * (This happened about two weeks after I met Michael, my very perverted fuck buddy who picked me up in a grocery story. My night at the bar was about in the middle of this past March, maybe two and a half weeks ago.) Sucks being a married slut, with an ignorant husband. All of my sexual adventures necessarily had to be confined to daylight hours -- from the moment my husband left the house for work, until the moment around dinner time he'd get back. When hubby was home, I was the good, doting wife. I knew I was missing a lot of sex, most of the men who send me emails wanted to meet at night, or on weekends. So opportunities to cheat on my husband in the evening were extremely limited, to the point of being nonexistent basically. From the time I started having cybersex and phonesex with men in my life, almost a year and a half ago, there was only one night where I got to play. Well, two nights actually, back-to-back, but only one is worth remembering. My husband had a corporate meeting at headquarters, he'd be gone for two nights. The first night was insanely frustrating and a complete missed opportunity. I arranged for a date with a married guy from online, but he stood me up, I was in a parking lot outside a restaurant all dressed for sex, but he never showed up. In fact, he never returned my emails. Must have chickened out, I figured. The loser. So, fuck that. The second night, I decided to really have some fun. All the male attention on my big tits and firm small ass made me feel so powerful and feminine, so I had tons of confidence that I could attract sexy men. I had the seed of an idea planted in my pretty little head from a local chat room, where guys and a woman were discussing which bars were the best "pick up spots" for horny adults to hook up. There was a clear favorite, about thirty minutes from my house, it was a large dance club next to a row of motels, and several chatters in the room agreed it was a meat market for getting laid. I started thinking, what would it be like to go to it, and get picked up? But a sexy woman can't go into a bar alone, that just wasn't right. I needed a partner in crime. So a week earlier, when I found out my husband was going out of town, I posted a "want ad" in the website with adult personal ads, saying I wanted to find a woman in her 20s or 30s who'd go with me to this club to hunt for cock. As you can guess, the most responses to my ad came from men -- hey baby, why go to the club, I got what you need right here, etc. And of course, Michael and Roger offered their "services" for the night. But I wanted to give it a try, to go to a club and have men hitting on me, maybe select one for a night of hot sex with a stranger. Really, I got only one meaningful response from a female, so I accepted it. She said her name was Telly, she was 35 and married but she'd been thinking about "stepping out." She was going to tell her husband she was having a girl's night out, which apparently she did time to time, but she'd meet me at a restaurant near the bar, then head into the bar. Telly wasn't my match. She looked worn, her hair was mousy and colorless, her rounded face had wrinkles already, her body could stand to use a bit treadmill more often. She wasn't ugly or anything, but with me next to her, I was definitely going to get a lot more attention. Dressing for the hunt, I had a plunging neckline white babydoll top with a black bra underneath it, the combination showing off a fleshy valley of my cleavage; below, my black miniskirt revealed almost all of my slender, sleek legs. If I bent over, half of my ass cheeks would be on display. By contrast, Telly had a strapless leather dress that hugged her tits and rounded hips, it would have been hot if she was 30 pounds lighter. I'm not being judgmental, I'm just saying the facts. Not that I cared what she looked like. A little past 9 pm, when my husband thought I was going to be early, I was walking into the singles' bar with another horny married woman, looking for men to fuck us. I had a blast that night. We already had men on our arm before we made it to the bar. I tried to keep the alcohol intake low, so I didn't lose control, I wanted to enjoy the evening, but through the course of a couple of hours, I had probably a dozen different mixed drinks served to me. I sipped a few of them, that was about it. Telly, however, drank a bit too much. Meanwhile, studs were buzzing like vultures around both of us, walking right up to us, leaning to talk over the loud music, putting arms around my shoulders all the time. Men who hadn't said a word to me. I was like meat in a lion's den. I played nice to everyone who came to say hi, but I was finding it was hard to get rid of guys when she nestle up next to you. So I would lead Telly and me around the bar, instead of staying up, otherwise we'd have been captured by the first guys to approach us. Quick learner at the meat market, I proved to be. I enjoyed the male attention, having two or three men at a time standing around me, touching my shoulders and back, some even "accidentally" brushing their crotches or hands against my miniskirt. But it was more fun to find a hot guy at the bar and approach him myself, instead of being the hunted prey. A couple of taller, well-built guys stole my attention, but neither panned out. But later, I spied two guys in white dress shirts and dark slacks, standing at the bar talking, not really paying attention to females around them. They were in their early 30s, I thought, and both looked like athletes. Their shoulders were brawny, they had firm powerful chests, slender waists, well-groomed appearances. One had dark short hair and one pierced ear, the other had longer blondish hair, a day's worth of stubble on his chin (love it!), and obviously hairy chest from the whisps of golden hair visible where his shirt wasn't buttoned. I tapped Telly on the shoulder, "Look at those hunks," and I broke off a pointless conversation with other men to lead her around the bar. I was pretty aggressive. "You boys need some female company?" I asked, nestling right up to the guy with the stubbled chin and hairy chest. He wasn't the hotter of the two, but I liked his style, and I figured the other guy probably got more attention than he did. Spread the wealth, so to speak. I was wearing my wedding ring, as was Telly, and I made sure to flash it by taking a sip of the drink in my hand. I thought that would signal I was there only for sex, right; a married woman at a meat market isn't shopping for an LTR. Our presence was accepted, the two guys -- Brad (the better-looking guy with short dark hair) and Tommy (of the stubbled chin and hairy chest) -- bought us drinks. Sodas, actually, because were both thirsty, and Telly was already a bit tipsy. Standing between the two studs, I was so little, they were definitely over six foot and thus about a foot taller than me if not more. When a bar stool opened up, I scooted onto it so I could at least be closer to eye level. Telly, about medium height, just kept leaning against Brad while I was rubbing shoulders with Tommy. I couldn't hear half of what they said, the place was so noisy. There was a dance floor on the other side of the place, and the excessively loud beating music made my ears pound. The place was half dark, but the bar area was lit from high above. It was small talk at first -- where you from, what do you do -- and the guys didn't seem phased when I said Telly and I were both married, our husbands were "away" so we came out to "play." Tommy flashed me a friendly smile at that news. The guys were former teammates in some sport but I couldn't hear what they said, now Tommy was an "analyst" and Brad was a high school coach of some kind. After fifteen or twenty minutes, Telly was more intoxicated, and the guys were really into us. Brad kept groping Telly's ass through her leather dress, making Telly blush at him, but she didn't stop him. Tommy, standing next to my bar stool, kept looking down my ample cleavage of my top. I arched my back to give him as much a view as possible. His hand wandered down my back, starting at my shoulders but ending up just above my skirt where I sat on it. Damn, his hand felt good on me, he was a sexy man and my eyes were already sizing him up underneath his clothing. He looked like he had a great, fit body, as did Brad, and my horny brain was trying to size their dicks from the limited bulges in their loose slacks. Is this how a pick-up goes? I hadn't done it since college, but those all involved keg parties at fraternities, not quite the scene here. I hoped that was where it was leading, it seemed we were waiting for a moment for Brad and Tommy to take Telly and I home. I needed to encourage it. I stood up from the bar stool, standing next to much-taller Tommy. His hand stayed on my lower back, as was mine on his. His hand slipped down, over my mini-skirt. I gulped, feeling it, wanting him to explore. I curled my small hand around his exquisitely tight asscheek, gasping at how firm it was in his slacks, hoping that gave him the signal. It did, and a moment later, his hand slipped underneath my mini-skirt, his big paw was groping the soft cheeks of my nude buttocks. Maybe other people noticed, maybe no one did; I didn't care, I loved his attention. We pretended to keep talking to Brad and Telly (not that Telly was talking much now), but I was just concentrating on Tommy's warm palm and fingers groping my married asscheeks under my mini-skirt. That went on about fifteen minutes, or so, until he pushed his hand down farther, sticking fingers from behind into the triangle of flesh between my crotch and upper thighs, almost stretching his long fingers to find my crotch from the backside. He really had to lean down for that. I yelped, but instead of pulling away, I spread my knees a bit, and pushed my butt towards his hand, so his fingers could momentarily slide over the very damp front of my thong. The pressure of his fingertips on my pussylips and clitoris made my knees tremble. My blue eyes looked up at him, and he stared down at me, and we needed to get going, didn't we? "Live far from here?" I asked, well yelled, into his ear. He said no, he was from out of town, but he pointed to Brad -- "he lives pretty close." I nodded, and realized, we four were going back to Brad's. That made me even more horny, thinking about the possibilities. Maybe I'd have both of them tonight, if Telly would share? Only, there was a twist coming, a good one. Tommy leaned to whisper to Brad, who nodded and smiled. Time to get going. Brad relayed the information to Telly, but the married bitch balked. I saw her blush, she looked at blinked at me, and she just froze in her spot. Time for the girls to talk. I pulled her aside and, because it was too fucking noisy, we headed for the lady's room. That was insanely crowded, there was a line for the stalls, but at least it wasn't noisy. "So," I exclaimed to her excitedly, smiling ear to ear, "you ready to go, Brad lives close!" The married, rounded mousy woman frowned, and her words were slow, slurred in part by the alcohol but also by her split mind. "I dunno," her voice feebly rambled, "can, um, we think about it -- maybe in a while--" That made me mad. I was there to get laid, and Tommy definitely wanted to fuck me. The woman had agreed to the plan, and now she was backing out. "Well, I don't want to wait." My voice was definitely bitchy, irritated, as I get sometimes. "I think we're leaving now -- you coming with us, or if not, you can stay and have fun, that's up to you, but I think I'm leaving." I threw my hands up to show her my evening at the bar was over, and I just turned and left her in the women's room. I headed back to Brad and Tommy, wondering what this meant. Tommy apparently was crashing at Brad's place, so without Telly to hook up with Brad, would I get to hook up with Tommy? Or -- nooo, the possibility was too awesome to think about. Or was it? Yeah, fuck that, I said, let's go for it. Slipping to stand between their two bodies, my arms around each of their backs, I yelled at them so they could hear me. "Hey boys, Telly isn't feeling good, she's, uh -- she needs to go home, or something." I gave each guy a squeeze on his ass, and Brad's more meaty ass pushed back against my hand. "So Brad, I hear you live near here?" The two men looked at each other, and without saying a word, it was decided. I was going to get to fuck TWO men at once! We walked out of the bar with me arm-in-arm with both studs, sandwiched between them. I was hardly walking, I was floating, my pussy was on fire and I was light-headed from the noise, darkness, and lusty expectations for the rest of the night. We left my car in the parking lot -- it wouldn't be the only one, I was told -- and the three of us climbed into Brad's roadster. It was a two-seater, so I sat on Tommy's lap. I had to crouch a bit and it was definitely a cramped space, but I certainly didn't mind. I could feel the bulge of his dick against my thigh, and his hand wandered up and down my lower back and butt, while his eyes continued to stare at my cleavage in front of his face. When the car got roaring down the highway, I turned to look at Tommy and his face was right there next to mine, and it just happened. We started kissing -- making out, really, furiously. I opened my jaw to say it was okay for him to stick his tongue in me, and he did, and I whimpered like a schoolgirl feeling his tongue and lips invade my small mouth. Meanwhile his hand shot to my chest, he began pawing one of my C-cup tits, squeezing and groping it through my babydoll and bra. The car lurched to a halt at a red light, and our faces broke off. I glanced at Brad, wondering how he'd react to seeing Tommy and me making out. Brad winked at me. I was feeling in control and on fire. Playfully, I chirped, "You guys don't mind I'm married, right --you won't tell my husband about this, will you?" Tommy laughed. "Are you really -- I thought we wore the ring just to keep guys away." That made me laugh, I never would have thought of that. "Nooo -- see, my husband's dick is like this big--" I put up my fingers about four inches apart, maybe understating things just a bit. "And he's not at home tonight, so I thought, maybe I could go find something a bit more, uh, fun!" Brad's hand, when he shifted the car into gear, slid up my leg towards my crotch, inside my mini-skirt. I wasn't expecting it so I let out a gasp, but I leaned back and moved my knees apart briefly anyway. His fingers fleetingly touched my crotch, finding my damp thong. But he needed to shift the car again because of traffic, and instantly when he pulled his hand out, Tommy replaced it. I leaned back into Tommy's arm, my head against the car window, as Tommy's entire hand was now over my thong, my knees spread open, the mini-skirt pulled up. In the front seat of the car I was getting petted heavily, Tommy's big fingers were rubbing my clitoris and pussylips, stretching my soiled thong into my slit even. Then he yanked the thong to the side, exposing my freshly-shaved pussy, and he started expertly stroking my clitoris with fingertips. I was heaving and gasping, wanting to cum, pushing my pussy against his fingers. "Yeah, baby," I grunted, wanting more. He gave me more, Tommy's fat finger slid to my pussylips and pushed inside, one finger now fucking me while Brad drove to his house. I made out with Tommy more, brushing my face against his stubbly chin, while his big finger filled my tight married pussy. It was a quick trip, it seemed, I was still headed for an orgasm that wasn't there yet, as Brad drove into a parking lot. The car engine stopped, and Tommy withdrew his finger from my pussy. Time to head inside and get the party started. I'd never fucked two men at once, this was a fantasy come true for me. I couldn't believe it was happening! There was nothing that was going to stop me from fucking both men tonight, I was a thousand percent sure it was going to happen. The walk to Brad's townhouse seemed to take forever, there were two turns from the parking lot, then we had to go through a gate, up a flight of steps, I was laughing at how far we went. That was due just my horny state of arousal, I'm sure. Finally, we were walking into the front door of his house. It was dark but smelled clean, a sharp odor like rubbing alcohol, almost like the cleaning crew had just been there. The lights didn't come on but the door shut loudly, and suddenly I was between the two hunks. Tommy started kissing me again, groping at my tits, while Brad nestled behind me to rub the huge bulge in his crotch against my ass and lower back. I felt my mini-skirt raised, Tommy's hand began touching my exposed vagina once more while Brad was groping my asscheeks. My heads headed for their pants, trying to grope their pricks and find out what size of meat I'd picked for the evening. My babydoll was being yanked to the sides as was my bra, my tits were exposed, pulled out from the clothing rolled underneath them. My thong was already bunched to the side so my vagina was available for Tommy, and with my mini-skirt hiked up, my naked asscheeks were in Brad's palm too. Brad started kissing me, his breath smelled more husky, his tongue was larger. Tommy bent over to suckle my nipples, his finger was now working into my vagina as I stood upright. I wanted to lay down, I wanted to get naked, I wanted both of them to be nude too. One hand found Brad's penis in his slacks, it felt meaty and powerful, throbbing hard. Tommy had stepped back so he could lick my tits, so now I had two free hands, I began unfastening Brad's belt buckle while I was moaning into Brad's mouth, sucking his tongue with my hungry married lips. Tommy began opening his pants too, and Brad had to finish the job I started, so it just sort of happened that I wound up on my knees between the men, watching them both unzip their flies, push down their pants, and fish their dicks out of their underwear. Wow, I was staring at two very big, very hard cocks! Brad's was long, a solid tube with a big fat cockhead at the end. Tommy's was uncut, it was fat at the base with a more narrow, pointy head, the sheath of skin surrounding it but that yielded when I pulled it back. Both dicks were dripping precum, both were ready for me. Brad's was, I would guess, about six and a half inches, possibly seven; Tommy's was more like six inches, but it was way thicker than my husband's, and definitely a bit longer. The men stepped up to my face. I hurriedly peeled off my thong, which was painfully tight as it had been pulled to one side. With my cunt dripping juices down my spread-open thighs, I remained on my knees with my asscheeks on my heels, reaching up to grab both dicks. Mmm, they smelled heavenly, so manly. Tommy's was first, I slurped the pointy head with my tongue, loving the flavor. Rolling my tongue around it I sucked it into my mouth a few inches, slurping on it, creating a vacuum, my fist pumping the fat base and pulling back his foreskin. Meanwhile my other hand was jerking off Brad's huge cock slowly, back and forth, feeling how hot and hard it was. The skin of Brad's penis burned against the palm of my hand. Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 06 "I'm so glad Telly didn't cum," I snickered to myself, aloud, drawing giggles from the men. Looking up submissively at the two studs, I moved my mouth to Brad's big penis now, sucking and slurping it. His flavor was more salty, more earthy, like sweaty in a way. Different, but still a turn-on. I noisily stuck that dick into my married mouth and almost into my throat, going slowly, eyes clenched, jaw open, gasping, slurping on his penis. While I sucked the two men they kicked off their pants and underwear and removed their shirts, so they were nude except for socks as I sucked them off. While sucking Brad's cock, I felt Tommy start rubbing his penis over my face, letting my skin feel the burning of his heat. I turned to suck and lick him, and Brad kept rubbing his wettened erection over my face too. I was being face-fucked and throat-fucked, sucking both men deep, gasping, choking even, giving them hot blowjobs in the foyer of Brad's townhouse. I had Tommy's dick in my mouth when Brad leaned down to pull off my top. I released Tommy's erection and raised my arms, so he could toss it aside, then he removed my bra over my head without even unfastening it. Topless, my firm C-cups spilled out, I cupped my boobs and looked up at both men past their wonderful pricks. My nipples were so long, painfully aching, wanting attention. I leaned up more, arching my back, pushing my boobs to their wet cockheads. They grunted and I laughed, staring at the sight of their beautiful erections kissing my rounded, soft breasts, my nipples rubbing over the eyelets of their helmeted shafts. "Mmm, say hello to my titties," I purred at the two dicks, blushing as I looked up at the men from my silly comment. They picked me up. Brad started kissing me. My mini-skirt was peeled away, my shoes pulled off, so I was completely naked now, in the arms of the two nude men. They carted me into a bedroom, which I guess was Brad's, it was large and dimly lit by a nightlight; there was a yellowish glow to the room, I could see just enough. Instantly the three of us were on the bed, I was put on my knees and elbows, my face bending down to a pretty penis in front of me. It was Tommy's, thick at the base, foreskin dripping with precum and my saliva. I grabbed that fat cock and began licking and sucking it again, and meanwhile I felt Brad behind my little ass. He was fingering my wet married vagina, then he started licking my clitoris from behind, making my hips instinctively swirl in circles. My cunt wanted dick, his dick, very badly. "Ungh, yeah, do me," I cried out, my eyes on Tommy's face while my tongue was plastered on his shaft, but my words were for Brad. "Fuck me baby!" Brad flipped me onto my back, even though I'd only just been put on my fours. I looked down the bed at the handsome lover who was about to fuck me, and my eyes melted in delight. His naked body was beautiful, from his powerful shoulders and broad hairless chest, down to his slender flat abdomen, and the powerful erection jutting out of his loins. I loved his body, I wanted him to fuck me. I pulled my knees back, showing him I wanted his dick in my pussy, the act a married woman is not supposed to do for another man. I didn't care, I wanted to have sex with Brad. Then Tommy. Reaching for him, my small hands wrapped around his thick neck, and the stud laid on top of me. We began kissing, and with my legs wrapped around his body, I felt his penis enter my cunt. I shrieked into his mouth, muffled by his tongue against mine, and I got fucked by this very handsome man. Telly had no idea what she was missing; nor did my husband. His penis in my pussy was incredible, I felt stretched out, he pumped away deeper and deeper, my back was arching to take him inside me. When he broke the kiss to lean over me, I was staring up into his sexy eyes, enjoying the fucking, feeling his pole sliding in and out of my twat. Rolling my head to the side, Tommy was patiently waiting, watching. I reached a hand out to hold and stroke his sexy dick, and Tommy scooted his pelvis forward while lying on his side so that I could lick and suck the head of his cock while Brad fucked me. I felt my body rocked, shaking, my tits bouncing around under Brad's gaze while the stud hammered me with his penis. He felt so much better than my husband fucking me, I had an orgasm from just the feeling of his penis inside my vagina. "Ohh gawwwd, yessss, YESSSS!" My scream was real, my body exploded with energy when the cum hit, flooding all my limbs, making me go weak while the studly cock continued to ram into me. Brad wasn't coming anytime soon. He pulled out to tit-fuck me, getting my breasts all sloppy wet with my cunt juices, then he rolled me over and fucked my from behind. Now I could suck Tommy's cock again, like earlier, both my mouth and pussy filled with fat hot cock. I was an eager married slut, cheating with these two sexy studs, swallowing cock while letting another one plow into my vagina deep. Brad's firm hands were on my slender hips, groping my small asscheeks, enjoying the view from above my butt. The sweet flavor of Tommy's sexy cock in my mouth would have gotten my close to orgasm all by itself, as would Brad's incredible cock inside my twat. Together, I was in orgasmic ecstasy, I was having a series of small, body-wrenching orgasms without even touching my clitty with my fingers (as I usually needed to do to cum). Amazed at how turned on I was, my eyes were literally crying, mascara dripping down the sides of my cheeks, feeling so fucked and lusted after, and Brad hadn't even had his first orgasm yet! Brad did cum, with me on my knees under him, his manly body pushing my small frame into the bedsheets so I was practically on my stomach when he pumped his jism into my twat. I was caked in my own sweat, sore from the solid fucking at this late hour of the day -- remember, I was used to cheating during daylight hours, not at night! I burned off a lot of energy in the bar, this was more work than I'd planned. But I couldn't stop, I wanted to feel Tommy inside me too. Brad pulled out, and the boys flipped me onto my back. I spread open my weary knees, offering myself to Tommy now, and he crawled above me to place his uncut penis against my cum-filled pussy. "Yeah, honey, fuck your little slut," purred his sex kitten to him, pulling his hips forward with my hands to draw his penis into my pussy. Tommy grimaced, then shoved forward and his erection entered me. I was now fucking a second man moments after I got laid by Brad! It was proof of how sexy and feminine I am, I could make two hung studs want to use and fuck me at the same time. Tommy was a more relentless lover, humping his slender ass back and forth furiously, repeatedly, always in the same pace. Spreading wider for him, my knees up to my armpits, my back arched and pushed my titties towards him. He stared down at them, then leaned forward and began sucking my breasts and nipples while he fucked me. His cock wasn't as big as Brad's, but with its thickness at the base, I could feel him stretching me out like my husband never could, drawing more orgasms from me. Shrieking and crying, pulling the lovely man harder against me, I didn't get any relief from Tommy's incessant fucking. I was gasping, sucking in air, trying to maintain myself while the hot stud continued to pound my vagina mercilessly with his wonderful dick. By the time Tommy had his first orgasm squirting semen into my pussy, Brad was hard again. He'd been hard waiting for his second turn for some time. As Tommy pulled out and Brad took a second turn above me, I realized, it was going to be a long, sex-filled night. The two men continued to use me, in just about every position. After they'd each cummed once, they were in a much more sharing mood -- taking turns repeatedly, before either had a second cum. I got to kiss the men back and forth, regardless of who was fucking me. Tommy, so kinky, began licking my face all over like a dog, it was actually pretty hot. Then he shoved his balls and ass into my face, making me lick his anus while Brad was stuffing my cunt. My long dark-brown hair was tangled and soiled, used by the men to yank my face around from cock to cock, mouth to mouth. The highlight was definitely the double penetration. My first ever! Michael had sort of prepared me for this, unknowingly, fucking my pussy while his dildo was in my asshole. That had been tight and borderline painful, but having two awesome peckers in my holes at the same time was indescribable -- it was wonderful beyond belief! Brad was underneath me, I was straddling him cowgirl-style, when Tommy took his place behind my ass. I had to pause for Tommy to slip into me, but as soon as I had both pricks in my holes, I screamed from a near orgasm. Four male hands pawed at my tits, two hot hungry mouths kissed my neck and lips and sucked my tits, and both those long, hard shafts pumped in and out of my holes in unison. I felt stretched out of shape, I felt the cocks rubbing together inside of me, my g-spot was being pressed from both sides at once. I was fucking cumming relentlessly, orgasm after orgasm. They both had four orgasms that night, and no, no one slept. Most of the loads went into my pussy, but each squirted on my face or tits at some point. After a couple hours of fucking, we lounged around in Brad's bedroom, all naked, talking about sexual conquests. I had some stories to tell, and enjoyed the chance to prove what a slut I am. Tommy was engaged, it turned out, and he lived a couple hours' flight away. Brad, however, was single and not monogamous, so he and I agreed to "hook up" when my married pussy needed some big, hard cock again. Which would be soon. After talking, we fucked some more, all three of us were insatiable. "You," Tommy said as he withdrew his penis from my pussy for the last time, "shouldn't be married -- you could literally fuck different guys every day, couldn't you?" Words I'd thought, but to hear a guy say that to me? It made me pout, that someone else had figured me out. But I had to smile. Fuck that, I thought, he's right! Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 07 7. The Day: I'm Melanie. I'm a 30 year old, married slut who cheats on her husband almost daily, if not even more often than that, because he can't come close to satisfying me and I can't possibly get enough cock anyway. This is another entry in my memoirs. At the time I'm writing this, I've got about eight to ten guys who I count as "boyfriends" -- guys I fuck somewhat regularly. I decided to write down how I got here -- the doting, boring suburban housewife to the cheating, cock-loving little bitch that I know I am -- because I know how impressed many guys are with me. I've done some really, ridiculously naughty things. Really depraved, outrageous things. Two years ago, before all this started, I barely even had fantasies about some of the things I've done. I can't get enough attention from hung, sexy men (and hot ladies too!). I want every reader of this to crave me, as much as I crave the men in my life. Don't you want me? My petite 125 pound frame, my long dark hair and slender, triangular face, my hot small ass, my gorgeous C-cup tits. I'm here for you, baby, are you man enough to please me, hmm? So go on, grab your dick (or jam your fingers in your twat), read on and I hope you get off as hard as I have! * * * * ("The Day" I will never forget was almost exactly nine weeks ago, as of the time I'm writing this.) The night of my threesome with two men, Brad and Tommy, was something of a high-watermark for me, or so I'd thought at the time. I suppose every girl fantasizes about fucking two hot studs at once, and that was my first time doing it. I loved it, I was good at it, the two men had a great time with me. It confirmed my self-image -- I'm hot, I'm a great fuck, I can please two men at once. Mmm, my husband has no fucking idea what he's married to, what kind of whoring tramp I am. But, like I always say, life is stranger than fiction -- or, fantasy in this case. A couple weeks later, I had a day that was beyond even my own kinky fantasies. I wouldn't say "too good to be true," because "good" doesn't even apply. It was, well, unbelievable. It started like most days, horny as shit when I woke up. Waiting for hubby to leave the house, so I could race down to my computer and screw around. That day was a little more exciting than most, due to a possibility of a hook-up. Michael had said he might take some time off of work, he wasn't sure if he could. A married guy from online, a cop actually, had responded to my online personal ad suggesting he and I would have a good time fucking. His picture was pretty hot. But, like so many married men with busy schedules at work and home, Colin (that was his name) wasn't committing to a particular time. Still, he'd said that day might be a possibility. So over the past couple of weeks, I'd traded emails with him (including exchanging more naked pictures of ourselves, and recording some friendly messages for each other), plus had some "hot texting" which is basically abbreviated cybersex and, thus, horny but much less satisfying. Happiness that morning, as with a squeal and shout I read my emails, sitting nude at my computer. Colin had a couple hours free around lunch time, could we meet for lunch? I emailed him back immediately, why don't you come to my house for lunch. I was so hot to fuck him -- take his uniform off -- I emailed him my home address. Only a couple of guys had it, but Colin was a cop, how much trouble could that be? It definitely was a good idea, it turned out. Colin was standing at my front door a little before 11 am. Only, he wasn't in a cop uniform, he was in t-shirt and jeans (but he did look damn good in them). I greeted him at the door, ready to serve him lunch; only, I was wearing nothing but a kitchen smock, which covered part of my tits (not the nipples), and none of my backside except for a string going across my lower back and another one around my neck. "Welcome to Melanie's Deli," I giggled at him as he stared at my mostly-naked C-cup titties, "where the service is SIN-sational!" Lunch was not eaten that day, for the record. The sexy although out-of-uniform cop checked out my sexy little naked ass as I led him over to the sofa, where I had him sit so I could plop on his lap. We talked nicely, kissing, his hands fondling my nude ass and tits, as we admired each other. He had sensuous eyes, warm and enticing, and his aroma was incredible. Some kind of cologne mixing with his natural manly scent, I was in heat as I squirmed on his big firm lap, my knees together to one side. I felt my vagina moistening even more between my closed naked thighs, with his firm, hard erection pressing the side of my butt and hips as I sat sideways on him. His strong, masculine hands, groping my naked asscheek and pawing my mostly-exposed breasts, felt warm and comforting, I was sinking into the satisfying, invigorating contact with him on every level. Mostly, we were complementing each other. Colin was telling me how gorgeous I was, how my body was so firm and little, my tits so big and delicious. "You're really fucking sexy, Melanie," he moaned to me. I returned the complements, speaking honestly, telling him how divine his attractive face was, how powerful and strong his body felt under me, how much he turned me on. We both admitted we'd been looking forward to meeting in person, after the several times exchanging emails and texts, including the naughty photos of each other's bodies and genitalia. Even just his voice, in a couple of messages he recorded for me, had made me want him. The talking turned to kissing -- first light, friendly pecks, sort of exploratory, the kind that gets your skin standing on the back of the neck, teasing for what more is to come. One of the kisses included tongue, and when our tongues me, it was electricity, my body was on fire, I sucked his thick married tongue into my mouth and wrapped my lips around it hard. As we made out, my kitchen smock came down, then moments later my tits were in his mouth, my hands on the back of his head. The married slut in me was loving the contact, roaring in approval. "Fuuuck yessss, baby!" His lips felt so good on my nipples and tit, making my skin warm and sloppy, chewing lightly on my nipple to both relieve and intensify the intense aching sensations. Colin had a mustache, which wasn't as nice as a stubbled chin, but it was manly, and I felt the hairs brushing my salivated skin of my C-cup tits. His pale brown hair was shaved close to his thick, round skull, he had a high forehead and deep-sunk eyes that probably looked evil when he stared at perps. At me, he looked lusty, hungry, staring up from my tits with a mouthful of flesh inside his opened lips and jaw. His chest was firm and powerful but not muscular; he did have solid, meaty shoulders and arms, however, surrounding me, making me feel comforted and used. My kitchen smock was entirely removed, leaving me totally nude for my new lover from the Internet. Turning to face him, I brushed my naked vagina on the bulge of his jeans while I straddled him on the sofa, kissing hungrily. I was nicely small on him, all 5-foot-2, 120 pounds of me so petite against his 5-foot-10, 190 pound frame. My cunt ached for more attention, grinding on the bulge of his jeans -- soiling the fabric -- was only a small relief, making me desire far more. My nipples hurt so sweetly in his suckling mouth, my soft buttocks ground against his large, firm hands groping them. It was so sensuous, all of the lovely entertainment my body was receiving from this very sexy man. I don't know how long we made out on the sofa, me nude and him still fully clothed, but our mutual desire for fucking was overtaking us. "You're so hot, so gorgeous," he kept moaning to me, while I started telling him what I wanted: "I want your cock in me baby, I want to feel you deep in me, please take me to the bedroom and fuck my brains out, baby!" We stood up from the sofa, and I led him down the hallway towards the guest room. I could barely walk, I was so horny for him, my vagina so achy for his attention. But as we stood in front of the guest room, where the bed was not particularly large, Colin fondled my nude ass and said it would be "more fun" to fuck where I screwed my husband. "Someday when my wife has the kids at thes," he said to me right then, "you should come to my house, we'll fuck on my bed, it's way more fun." I hadn't done that before, I mean, get laid by another stud right where I sleep with my husband. Seemed really rude and nasty, like, an insult to an injury, but my body wanted Colin so badly I would have screwed him in front of my mother and father if he wanted me to. Without hesitation, but with a girlish giggle, I led Colin to the master bedroom with the King-size bed where my husband and I slept every night. I'd been fucked there by my husband many times, and I'd do it again that afternoon, only by a stud way more sexy than my husband. Like so many of my married lovers, we didn't have a lot of time. It was his day off from the "force," and his wife thought he was running errands. So we only had a little more than an hour, and we'd already taken a bunch of it with the kissing and foreplay on the sofa. While rushed, it was incredible sex. The best word I would have for it is "sensuous" -- it was like an hour or so of just feeling incredible, in every way. I was insanely insatiable just from how he looked, his handsome face, his fit physique, his flat stomach and abdomen pumping repeatedly above me, getting more and more sweaty and juicy as the hour of sex progressed. This exquisitely sexy man, a cop who probably had a bunch of women he could fuck, was totally getting off on fucking ME. It thrilled me, made me feel alive, feminine, powerful. And the way he looked at me, wow that was beyond sexy. His lusty eyes stared at my face and body nonstop, I could see he was enjoying the sight of me underneath or on top of him. He loved my boobs -- LOVED -- watching them bounce around as he pumped his meat into me, knocking me around my marital bed. I rode him cowgirl-style, playing with my own tits, like squeezing them and licking my nipples, and he bit his lip staring at that, it was turning him on so much. When we were fucking doggy-style, I looked back at him over my shoulder, and his eyes were riveted at the sight of my hot little ass pumping around in front of him, he was getting off not just on the feeling of his prick inside of me but the sight of it too. And, wow, the feeling of that prick inside me! Colin had a studly boner, it was thick and rigid, not the longest but it filled me as much as I needed. His girth stretched out my vaginal lips, spreading me wide open, thrusting it in and out furiously to tease my g-spot as his cockhead slipped back and forth. My pussy was drenched of my juices, it was wet, slippery sex, the juices getting all over my thighs and tummy and buttocks, and coating his cock, balls, and stomach too. Besides my pussy being distorted and packed, the rest of my body loved his fucking. He was physical with me, pinning back my arms, pushing open my thighs even wider. It wasn't painful, but it was sensationally tough and rugged, I was straining to meet his thrusting cock while feeling Colin stuffing that hot penis in me over and over and over. Fuck, all of my senses were inundated by Colin. He smelled so good throughout the sex, his cologne and body aromas intoxicating me, I was dizzy-headed from how much I loved his smell. The flavors were insanely good too, from him fresh breath and mouth, to the taste of his sweat as I licked it off his neck and chest, and then his sperm when he flooded my mouth for his first orgasm of the day. Mmm, I moaned and grunted, filling with that thick, gooey, sexy load of semen. I rolled it around my mouth, my tongue tasting it, before I grunted and swallowed it into my married tummy. Even my fucking ears loved the sex. Colin was so complementary to me -- "You're so gorgeous, you're so fucking hot, I'm so turned on, I love your hot little ass Melanie, Melanie you have the hottest tits I've ever fucked, I could stare at your face all day Melanie." When we were fucking doggy-style and he had his second orgasm, he murmured, "Fuck this is the best orgasm ever, you're making me cum so fucking hard, how do you do it?" Not that I totally believed him, but it just turned me on so much hearing him have such pleasure. Me, it was all me, little ol' Melanie doing it. After he orgasmed that second time, our day together was nearing its forcibly premature conclusion. I was sore, every part of me, each muscle and limb; my pussy was aching from the stuffing I'd taken; I was coated in pools of pussyjuice, mixing with layers of his and my sweat, I felt grungy and soiled all over. Just an hour? It was a seriously delicious fucking, almost edible. Colin had pleasured every part of me, in every way. "I'm so fucking glad I emailed you," Colin panted, lying on top of me after that second load of jism, "I can't believe how much you turn me on, Melanie!" I purred back, catching his lips in a kiss before responding. "Me too, baby, it was amazing!" My hand was caressing his strong, sweaty chest, feeling his strength, it was invigorating to know I turned him on. "Let's fuck again, okay?" We sealed the promise with a horny kiss. When he left my house, I thought to myself, this was a pretty good fuck, not a bad way to spend a day. Little did I realize what else was in store for me that day! Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 08 8. The Day: I'm Melanie. I'm a 30 year old, married slut who cheats on her husband almost daily, if not even more often than that, because he can't come close to satisfying me and I can't possibly get enough cock anyway. This is another entry in my memoirs. At the time I'm writing this, I've got about eight to ten guys who I count as "boyfriends" -- guys I fuck somewhat regularly. I decided to write down how I got here -- the doting, boring suburban housewife to the cheating, cock-loving little bitch that I know I am -- because I know how impressed many guys are with me. I've done some really, ridiculously naughty things. Really depraved, outrageous things. Two years ago, before all this started, I barely even had fantasies about some of the things I've done. I can't get enough attention from hung, sexy men (and hot ladies too!). I want every reader of this to crave me, as much as I crave the men in my life. Don't you want me? My petite 125 pound frame, my long dark hair and slender, triangular face, my hot small ass, my gorgeous C-cup tits. I'm here for you, baby, are you man enough to please me, hmm? So go on, grab your dick (or jam your fingers in your twat), read on and I hope you get off as hard as I have! * * * * ("The Day" I will never forget was almost exactly nine weeks ago, as of the time I'm writing this.) The night of my threesome with two men, Brad and Tommy, was something of a high-watermark for me, or so I'd thought at the time. I suppose every girl fantasizes about fucking two hot studs at once, and that was my first time doing it. I loved it, I was good at it, the two men had a great time with me. It confirmed my self-image -- I'm hot, I'm a great fuck, I can please two men at once. Mmm, my husband has no fucking idea what he's married to, what kind of whoring tramp I am. But, like I always say, life is stranger than fiction -- or, fantasy in this case. A couple weeks later, I had a day that was beyond even my own kinky fantasies. I wouldn't say "too good to be true," because "good" doesn't even apply. It was, well, unbelievable. The first part of the day was in the early afternoon, when I had sex for the first time with a cop I met online, Colin. He boned me hard in my marital bed in my house, what a dirty cheating whore I am. It was hot, sultry, seductive sex, it really made me cream. When he left my house a little while after we'd finished, I figured, that would be the end of my day, and it would go down as a good day, a real good one. Mmm, not quite done yet. Twenty minutes after he left, I was still naked in my house, sweaty, cum dripping down my slender thighs. My pussy remained sore from his solid, thick penis, but I definitely wanted more orgasms. I don't think it was because Colin was a bad lover; to the contrary, he was so good, he turned me on so much, a mere hour with him wasn't enough. Less than an hour, for just the sex part. So, even though I was a stinky, physical mess and it hurt to move my legs, I forced myself to get out of the bed. My tummy was rumbling for some actual food, not just the creamy protein I'd ingested. Walking into the kitchen, still buck naked and dripping with juices all over, I made myself a fast salad and drank two bottles of water. I was still horny as shit from that hot fuck, so naturally I climbed nude in front of my computer, to see what kind of action I could find (and to write Colin a massive thank-you email). Online was one of my regular fuck-buddies, Michael, who actually picked me up at a grocery store near my house. He lived only a few minutes away, and being separated and living in his own apartment, if he wasn't at work he always had the time to entertain me. He also was kinky as shit, probably the most perverted guy I know. I can't even tell you everything he's into, but trust me, he's a lot of fun. We right away traded messages. He told me he was sitting nude at his home, trying to do the same thing I was -- get off. Proud of my sex with Colin that just ended, I told him exactly what happened. "A guy I met online, a cop, came over and fucked me today," I typed to him, "it was hot and delicious, but I'm still dying for more sex, and he only just left!" Michael was not the jealous type, he found my sexuality incredibly fun and refreshing. He was the sort of well-adjusted guy who knows his role. He was attractive, but not gorgeous; he had a nice cock, long and long-lasting, although maybe not the most perfect one I got to fuck. He was really kinky in bed and could temporarily satisfy insatiable women like me, but he wasn't not going to make a woman like me give up other men. In fact, he enjoyed hearing about my sex with other guys, he'd get off vicariously that way. The better-looking and hotter the other men were, the hotter the sex for me, the more Michael seemed to love hearing about it. I'd just never told him right after fucking another guy, my pussy still fresh with sperm. "Yeah," I typed to him, "my pussy is leaking Colin's cream, mmm its good." I swept up some on my finger and licked it clean, loving the flavor. My fuck buddy had heard enough. "Let me come over to you," he typed, "right now, you want more cock? If not just let me lick out your used married pussy, I wanna taste you after you cheated on your hubby with a cop!" I think I laughed when I read it, not sure it was a good idea, but I was too horny to say no. "How fast can you get here?" I wrote back. What, ten minutes later? Fifteen? My front doorbell rang, Michael was standing there in a dress shirt and nice slacks, with a big bulge in his pants. I hadn't cleaned up for him, not even brushing out my hair, and my body was sweaty and stanky with male and female sweat and my pussyjuices. But I did put on some fresh lipstick, and so that I wasn't totally slutty, I dressed myself in a pair of white g-string thongs and white mesh bra. Michael came in, giving me a horny kiss as we stood at the door, his hand pawing at my sweaty buttocks, finding them still damp from the hot sex not even an hour earlier. "Mmm, look at the little married bitch," he snickered, stepping back to admire me as I stood in front of him, smiling at him. "Looks like Melanie was a bad, bad wife today -- letting some other hot man fuck her sexy little body, hmm?" Michael's fascination with my sex with Colin was giving me more tingling in my pussy, I was feeling womanly in entirely different ways. He lusted for my sexuality, not just me. Almost like, Michael was hot not just from how I looked, but from who I was -- a married slut who loved fucking other men. "Mmm, I was sooo bad, Michael," I teased him, holding his hand but turning to walk away, forcing his eyes to stare at my sexy butt. "I couldn't help myself, I was sooo bad!" We were heading to fuck, nothing but that. I took Michael back to the master bedroom too, not the guest room where I'd fucked him in the past. As he realized that was where we were going, he snickered devilishly. "Oh, you little tramp, you cheated on your husband in his own bed? Goddamned, you horny bitch, what kind of cheating whore are you?" He meant it in the most sexy way possible, grinning as he scolded me, his cock forming a massive tent in his slacks. I snickered hearing it, turning to kiss him standing up when we were in front of my bed, its sheets all messy and damp. "The kind that wants to cheat with you too, honey," I gasped just before burying my tongue in his mouth. Standing on my tip-toes because Michael was so much taller than me, I felt the size of his penis in his crotch brushing my flat tummy, and I couldn't wait to get naked again. "Do you wanna help me cheat on my hubby too, sweetie?" I batted my long eyelashes at him daintily, smiling sweetly, as if I had to coax him into it. Michael pushed me down to my knees, stripping off his dress shirt himself but leaving his pants and underwear to my hands. "That's it, bitch," slurred the horny stud, "take out my cock -- look how hard you make me, you're such a slut -- I want you to tell me EVERYTHING about how you cheated on your husband today, you fucking stupid cunt!" Laughing at his nasty tone and words, I hurried to unwrap his beautiful penis, so long and thin, smelling so musky and sexy, burning heat against my hand. I looked up to him diffidently, licking precum from his cock and kissing the shaft lightly. "Mmm, you wanna hear it all, huh?" I was surprised he was asking, but the thought of sharing with him the fucking I received from Colin was bringing out the hottest slut in me. "How I cheated on my husband right there, on this very bed behind me?" After commenting what a mess of the bed I'd made, Michael grabbed my long brown hair, holding my skull firmly, rubbing his hard, wettened penis against my face. "Shit, you bitch -- you're such a nasty cunt -- how about you take a second dick into your cheating, slutty cunt, while you tell me all the nasty things you and that hot cop did today?" Moments later, after removing my bra and thong, I was on my back on the same bed, spreading me legs, offering my shaved, drooling pink pussy to Michael. He climbed over me, rubbing his manhood against my slit, licking his lips as he stared down at me. "Go on, you whore, tell me all about how you cheated on your husband today?" "Uhhh, YESSS!" I was wailing as I felt Michael sink his cockhead into my twat, stretching my sore pussylips, beginning to fill me in thrusts. But I was anxious to tell him, my nipples were so hard I was pinching and twisting them myself. "Yes, baby, he was sooo hot -- he came over, I was wearing only a kitchen, um -- what do you call it?" I couldn't think, I was so horny. I laughed at how stupid I sounded, I was a stupid horny slut. "I was almost nude when I met him--" Michael sneered as he visualized it. "Had you met him before, or was that the first time ever?" Shaking my head at him, my eyes staring up at his sexy naked chest and face, I pouted. "No, it was the first time, we'd never met before." In response to my admission, I received a loud, stinging SMACK across my little face from Michael's flattened hand. "You fucking whore!" he spat at me, literally covering my face in his saliva, his cock still twitching at the entrance to my used, married vagina, "you are such a slut, meeting a guy almost nude who you met online, you're married and bringing him into your house to fuck!" My cheek burned from the slap, but the look of power and lust in Michael's face was turning me on so much -- not to mention the cock filling my sore pussy -- that I just nodded to him. He laughed at me. "Admit it to me, Melanie -- say, 'I'm a stupid, fucking married whore'!" The words tumbled out of my lips breathlessly, instantly. "I'm a stupid, fucking married whore," I gasped without remorse, "I cheated where my husband sleeps!" I found myself reaching down for his penis, trying to pull it into me, I was so turned on. "You, too -- fuck me here -- help me cheat on my stupid husband!" But my nasty lover had other intentions. Seeing my cunt oozing with Colin's sperm, Michael snickered, moving his penis away from it. He flopped down to the bed, on his knees and hands, lowering his thin, manly face to my flat, sweaty tummy and kissing down my belly. "Oh god Michael!" I screamed, pulling my knees back, knowing where his mouth was headed. My cunt, full of Colin's cum. "Michael!" He was such a dirty pervert. Looking at me, his mouth near my pussy, Michael reached both hands up to my big tits and squeezed them hard, pinching my aching nipples painfully. "Did you let your cop squirt his cum in you -- did you let him shoot his seed in your married womb?" I nodded, feverishly hot, almost crying I wanted Michael to screw me so badly. "Yeah -- uh huh -- I did!" I peeled back my pussylips with my fingers, showing him the gaping wet hole. "Mmm, do you see, he cummed inside me, sooo much cum!" "Mmm, I see, you little tramp," sinisterly swore my lover, eyeing my messy, sloppy cunt, "I see what a whoring little slut you are, letting other men dump their loads in you, you're a disgusting bitch, aren't you?" Smiling, insulting me with his depraved honest words, he pushed his tongue out and languorously lapped at my vaginal lips, tasting the sperm and juices on them. My body buckled, I let out a little yelp, loving the touch, wanting much more. Obliging, giggling, Michael lapped at the liquids dripping over my soft, pink petals, before sending his entire tongue inside my hole. Screaming, pushing my hips up, humping his face, I felt Michael sink his manly tongue into my cunt where I was sure he was tasting Colin's sperm mixed with my juices. "Yeah, that's it, taste it!" I was commanding him with a loud, evil sneer, gasping for air while the hot man ate my sloppy pussy. "Do you taste him in there, baby -- do you taste Colin's hot cum -- he was sooo good, he filled me with his sexy, hot cum -- I took all he had to give me, he was so turned on fucking me, he shot all that cum in me baby!" Michael's hands were pawing at my big tits, his mouth sealed on my twat, his tongue driving in and out of my vagina. I could feel him scooping out Colin's jism, swallowing it, tasting another man's orgasms inside me. "God you taste nasty," he reported, pausing but not stopping his oral sex on me, "he shot so much cum in you, yeah -- I can taste what a whoring tramp you've been, you stupid bitch, cheating on your husband!" With Michael's tongue driving my cummy pussy, I felt an orgasm nearing. Michael sensed it too, he knew my body by then, after having fucked each other quite a few times. He let go of my tits and slipped one hand under my small asscheeks, groping them as my hips gyrated in circles, and his other hand shot to my clitoris so he could rub and frig it with a thumb. Screaming loudly, giving in, I exploded with a cum, sucking in air, my limbs stiffening, pouring juices into Michael's mouth. "Tell me about it," Michael demanded of me, as my cum subsided and he kept licking me, "tell me all about how this cop fucked you?" My body was so weak I couldn't move off the bed if I'd wanted to; but Michael's perversions, his desire to know all the details, were turning me on. I loved that tongue inside me. So, barely able to lift my head, I looked up at the ceiling, kept my legs open, and swirled my pussy in circles around his tongue while I told the tale. How I was dressed for Colin in only the kitchen smock, how we made out on the sofa and I got my tits sucked, how I rode his gorgeous penis and got fucked over and over on my bed. I wasn't bashful about it, in fact, I was proud. "His cock was so awesome," I told Michael, "bigger than yours, it felt unbelievable in me -- I wish every man had a cock like his, I wish you did -- it was big, fat, fucked me sooo deep, I came SO hard!" My lover wasn't offended, he was going crazy eating my pussy, even licking my asshole, tasting juices on it too. I had another orgasm, I had to stop my story, my lips were quivering as I shook to another climax. "That's so hot, you bitch," Michael spat at me, as I came off my second cum, smacking my thigh with a flattened hand. "You got off so good with Colin, didn't you, he turned you on, didn't he?" There wasn't a hint of jealousy in Michael's tone; he was truly aroused by the imaginary sights of me getting screwed by Colin. I'd had enough of his tongue, it was time for fucking. I wanted my second cock of the day, and I didn't want to wait. Pulling my knees back more, I lifted my head painfully and eyed Michael's still-throbbing erection. "Shut the fuck up, Michael," I begged, sincerely, "I need it -- c'mon, do it, stop teasing me, cum fuck me with that hot dick of yours -- put that big cock in me, you motherfucker!" He wasn't arguing. He crawled on top of me, covering my sweaty little body with his manly, nude, slender and athletic body, lowering his prick to my married twat. I kept my legs open, and a moment later, I had another man's penis inside my pussy that day. "YESSSS!" I screamed, my hands reaching for his tight asscheeks, pulling his 7 inches of meat into my cunt, "that's so fucking good, fuck me you asshole!" Michael was sneering, grunting, his teeth clenched as he roared forward. His first few thrusts were soft, dainty, just to make sure he was inside me in the right position, then he let loose and turned it on. Furiously driving his hips forward, an animal out of control, he began plunging his erection into my sloppy, tight vagina as deep as he could drill me, howling with delight, thrusting rapidly. "Uh huh -- yeah -- uh huh, there -- there you go, bitch -- feel that -- I'm so hard for you -- you fucking nasty bitch -- cheating on your husband AGAIN -- two cocks in one day -- what a fucking whore you are -- you love that, don't you, Melanie -- being a hot little slut?" "Mmmm!" My body arched, pushing my jiggling C-cup tits towards him, feeling and watching one of his hands wrap around an orb and squeezing my breast firmly while he fucked my pussy. "God, so good, Michael, fuck me hard!" The sex with Michael got even more intense, he was thrusting in me furiously, lying on top of me, pressing my little body into my bed. I didn't care, I was so turned on by this kinky, depraved sex, gripping his firm runner's butt and pulling him deeper into my pussy. "Yes, baby, fuck me, fuck me!" I yelled, cumming from the feeling of his dick in me, from how he loved what a slut I was. Then he leaned up, both hands in fists besides my slender ribcage, staring down at my sexy, nude figure, my pretty face and hot tits, as I undulated underneath him, his penis driving me insane. He snickered again, admiring me, loving the sight of the hot bitch he was fucking. "You love sex, you're so perfect," he gasped, his thrusting moving at a rhythmic pace now. I could hear the sloppy noises as his cock drilled my pussy repeatedly, my bed was thumping against the wall, more action than it had ever seen with my husband. "You know I love what a slut you are -- I think you're perfect -- I love that you fuck around with anyone you want!" In the midst of getting laid, I actually laughed, a chuckle of humor sprinkling the hot sex. "Yeah? Can you bottle that and feed it to my husband -- hee hee?" I giggled at the fantasy. For Michael, it was no fantasy. As he continued to hump me savagely, sweat streaming down his slender, fit ribs and torso, his powerful penis driving into me over and over, he opened up some more of his perversity with me. "You need a husband like me," he sneered while he fucked me, "my wife never appreciated it -- I'd let you fuck anyone you want, any time you want -- you'd never be cheating, I'd want you to get laid anytime, anyone, it's so hot that you love to fuck." I might have still thought he was in fantasy land, making that up -- who would really want a spouse who slept around? "Oh, yeah, you would, huh?" I was gripping the bedsheets now, steadying myself, wincing, my pussy was on fire, insanely sore from fucking Colin and now Michael, but I loved being used like this. LOVED it. Michael was grabbing my thin ankles, spreading open my legs more, I was grunting from how sore my muscles were. But, my ass lifting slightly off the bed, I could feel his cock entering me even more deeply, his shaved balls smacking into my sweaty, wet asscheeks with each thrust. "Yeah, I would, you bitch -- I'd love it -- I'd love to come home from work, and find you in our bed, getting fucked by some huge big dick." Wiping sweat from his brow, he began relating fantasies he'd had, very private fantasies, maybe never really finding a woman who appreciated them. "Or, I come home from work and you left a note, you won't be coming home for dinner -- out on some hot fuckdate -- then, you wake me up in the middle of the night, sit on my face with your wet pussy, make me taste some other guy's sperm in your cunt, proving what a slut you are!" Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 08 "Oh?" So horny from the sex, the words were mystical to me, almost incomprehensible, like anyone would really want a relationship like that? Sounded fucking perfect, of course, too good to be true. Not that I was going to think about it long, I was fucking him, not trading fantasies. Damn, his penis felt awesome, sliding in and out of my horny, aching twat, filling and stretching me. I smiled up at him from the sex, playing along with his fantasies a little bit. "You could get me ready for a date -- paint my toenails, shave my pussy, pick out my perfume and bra and thong -- then wait up for me, until I come home all messy, with cum in my pussy for you?" I hit a button, he flattened a hand and SMACKED my face again, very hard. "Yes!" I roared in approval, grunting deeply at the powerful emotions I was drawing out. "You fucking whore -- yes -- cuckolding me, go on a fucking date with some awesome guy you just met on the Internet -- you love his cock is so big, bigger than your cop's right, you'd rather fuck him than me, don't you?" My face winced from the reaction, I knew I'd struck some very deep fetish of his and he was loving it, the pain and tingling on my face was like a badge of honor. "I do -- I do, I do -- he fucked me so good, Michael, so good!" I was thoroughly enjoying this bizarre, kinky sex. "Fuck me harder, Michael -- fuck your cheating little bitch!" We actually started making out, kissing, stopping the fantasies while he kept pummeling me from on top, plowing that erection into me over and over and over. But I pushed him off of me, getting a nasty image in my head. "Then, I'm going to make you watch me fuck a man, a guy with a huge dick -- filling me with cum -- and you have to lick out my pussy, clean me out of that semen -- AND you have to suck his dick clean, taste our sex on him -- you'd love that, wouldn't you, you pervert?" Michael winced, eyes rolling then, jaw clenching, body tensing. "Yes -- oh, fuck, yes!" My horny lover cummed, filling me twat, aching and exploding. I had a simultaneous orgasm, both of us erupting in each other's arms, kissing now while he erection squirted semen into my spasming pussy. After the mutual orgasms we continued to French kiss, lying there in each other's sweaty arms. Then, when his cock was recharging, he broke the kiss and had me get on my fours, as he moved behind me to fuck me doggy-style while still asking me more questions. But he was asking very, very personal questions. "Admit it," he said, rubbing his cock against my hungry twat from behind, getting back to reality instead of our little fantasy world we'd been describing where Michael was my husband and let me fuck other studs, "you loved fucking Colin more than fucking your husband, didn't you?" I didn't have to think about that one. "Yes!" I purred, spreading my slender thighs, wanting to feel that wonderful penis inside my pussy again, pushing my little ass upwards, looking back at him hungrily. "Yes, I did, he was soooo good!" My studly boyfriend smiled, pushing his cockhead to my entrance, but not entering me yet. "And, admit it, if you could fuck Colin every night instead of your husband, you'd do it, wouldn't you?" That fantasy had never occurred to me, but I gave him my honest answer. "Fuck, yessss!" The idea of having that sexy, sensual sex every night? Wow, I'd probably explode. "It was soooo good, yes I'd love it every night!" Michael was preparing to fuck me again. His cock was in position, he just wasn't sticking it into me. "So I want to hear it from you -- say, Melanie would rather have sex with her new lover than ever have sex again with her own husband?" His firm hands were gripping my sweaty hips, he was about to penetrate me, and I wanted it so badly. I could have said, my response was just from how horny I was, trying to get his cock into me. But I couldn't deny, I was being honest, Michael really understood me. I felt a tear in my eye, even, as I responded. "Yes," panted out my words as I breathed hard, "it's true -- I'd rather fuck Colin every night even if I couldn't ever fuck my husband again!" Instead of feeling guilty, I screamed in delight. I felt Michael's penis sink into my cunt from behind, his thumbs prying apart my asscheeks, burying that boner inside me. Pushing back against it, we began to fuck again, hard, the energy remaining in my body pushing me backwards to meet his thrusts into me with that beautiful penis. "Yes, baby," I grunted at him, looking back at him, "fuck me!" Michael was smacking my asscheeks, salivating on the words I'd spoken. "You're such a nasty bitch, you know that, Melanie? You're fucking cheating, wishing you could fuck another man instead of your husband, you know what kind of fucking nasty slut that makes you, you tramp?" "No?" I gulped, wanting to hear it, I was so turned on that Michael had figured me out. "What kind, honey?" Before answering, he flattened his hand and SMACKED my asscheeks extremely hard, making me shriek again, leaving a glowing hand print. "The kind that wants to be treated like THIS," came his words with a harsh sneer, followed by him balling up saliva in his mouth and spitting in into my face and hair as I bent over in front of him, looking back at him. I felt his spit on my eyelids and nose, it was degrading but such a turn-on. He saw me take the abuse and he snickered, smacking my sore asscheek again, just not with as much force. "You love it, don't you Melanie, you'd rather be used like a fucking whore and screw a hot sexy stud like your cop, instead of being a good wife and doing what you'd promised to your betrothed?" I'm not kidding, I was crying, but not from being smacked and spat upon. His cock in my sore pussy was divine, my body ached from all of the sex that day and now I was bent over in front of him, and I was so aroused that Michael had climbed inside my head and was fucking not just my pussy but my self-image too. This was powerful sex, I had never been aroused this way before. "Shiiiiiit," I gasped, my head dropping to the damp pillowcase a moment, "I'm such a slut, and I'm married!" For my honesty, I was flipped onto my back again, Michael kissing me now, forcing tongue down my lips and throat, while his cock was impaled inside me. I felt my knees pushed back, I felt his hairless balls smacking against my asscheeks as he buried every bit of his length inside my twat. He used me, getting himself off, stuffing my hole and kissing me until he was squirting seed again inside my pussy. "There, you dumb cunt," he sneered into my mouth after he'd deposited the second load, "more cum for the little married whore, huh, you love that seed from other men inside you, don't you?" I nodded weakly, knowing it was true. "Yessss!" We lounged on the messy bedsheets, kissing, groping each other. Michael, ever the pervert, went down on me and licked the male sperm mixed with my pussyjuice and lots of sweat dripping off my pussylips. Then, both feeling sticky and messy, he suggested we go to the shower together. I'd never had sex in my shower with anyone other than my husband, where it hadn't been very good, so I didn't think this would lead to anything productive. But, dripping in juices all over, I agreed. After lathering each other's bodies in soap (really, just a flimsy excuse to fondle a man's chest, buttocks and cock and balls, and him to touch every single spot on my entire female anatomy), we even poured and rubbed shampoo into each other's hair. Michael had to lean way back for me to touch the top of his tall head; and my long hair took him forever to scrub and clean correctly. Throughout the shower, we were making out, fondling each other, getting horny again. We got out and towel-dried each other, by which time I was laughing, tickling him playfully, getting wet for his penis that was rock-hard. But we never made it to the bedroom. Instead, we started making out again standing up in the bathroom, and Michael maneuvered me to the sink and countertop. He lifted my ass up, so I was sitting my butt at the rounded front edge of the surface, reaching back to hold myself upright be grabbing a towel rack on the wall with one hand, my other hand wrapping around the handles of the sink. As he stood in front of me, my lover spread open my legs, hoisting them with elbows under my knees, pushing his peckerhead to my vagina. "You want more of this, bitch?" he laughed at me, seeing me watch in delight at his cockhead kissing my pussylips, "tell me how badly do you want me to fuck you?" I took a breath to form the words forcefully. "Um -- sooo badly!" I was in pain, my sore body perched on the countertop like that, straining to stay in place, but I really wanted that cock in my pussy. He smacked my face lightly, playfully. "Say it, you slut -- say, you're a married whore that needs me to fill her cunt so she can cheat on her husband?" "Fill my cunt, Michael!" I was screaming, heaving my chest at him. "Fill this married whore's cunt, I'm a stupid fucking bitch who can't get enough cock, I wanna cheat on my husband with you, NOW!" My words made him poke my pussy with his dick, and I squealed in delight. "YESSSS!" We were both panting, grunting, staring down at the sight of his erection fucking my married twat again. I could hardly move around, I had to squirm in place to keep my ass on the edge of the countertop, while my hands and arms ached to hold my torso and body in place. My legs flopped and dangled over his arms, Michael was holding me spread-open, keeping my pussy in front of his hips so he could fuck me. He giggled at the look in my face, I was in such lust, gazing at his hard penis, seeing it drive into me. "This is where your husband shaves in the morning, isn't it?" He laughed, pointing at my hubby's razor and the can of cream next to it. "You're cheating where he shaves every day?" I nodded, moaning, trying to get that hot dick deeper into my aching pussy. "Yes, it is, baby," I grunted, "I'm fucking cheating on him, where he shaves!" It was a weird concept, but I was aroused by it. Michael loved it too. "Now, every time he shaves, every day," he gasped, humping me, using his energy and power to plunge that stiff erection into my cunt over and over, "you can think of cheating, you should think about how right in this spot you took another man's cock into your slutty married cunt, because you can't get enough!" "No, no I can't," I admitted, turning my blue eyes up to his face, beaming at him proudly. "I'm such a cheating slut, fuck me harder, baby!" Michael snickered, and did something I'd never have imagined. He reached to the side and grabbed the can of shaving cream, and pointing it at my crotch, I heard the rushing sound of frothy white cream stream out and coat my cuntlips and his penis. He kept poking that cock in and out of me, coating it in shaving cream, using it as lubricant to keep fucking me. It made his cock slippery-wet, he could fuck me deeper and faster! I screamed in shock, loving the new feeling, I let go of the towel rack and handles and instead wrapped my small hands around his firm, athletic neck, basically hanging off of him as he kept fucking me. We both were staring down at the sight of his red-hot erection sliding in and out of my pussylips, now all of his cock and balls and my lips covered in my husband's shaving cream. It quickly turned thin and began dripping to the floor in loud splats, but it made the sex so much more enjoyable. Michael's dick was easily sliding in and out, making loud squishy noises each time he'd shove it back in. I was moaning, grunting, having orgasms from the feeling. More than one. I clutched him firmly, my body aching from the position as my ass stayed on the front edge of the countertop, my arms around his neck, my legs over his arms. Michael was relentless, fucking me without stopping, driving that manhood into my now-slippery vagina, so many times. "Admit it," he slurred to me, his eyes not coming off the messy sight where he was screwing me, "you wish your husband fucked you as well as I do, don't you?" "Oh, fuck yes, baby!" That was so true, Michael wasn't the hottest guy, but he was making me feel incredible. "You're so fucking good, Michael, fuck me more!" I pulled his neck down, he bent over and we started making out hungrily, our lips twisting together and tongues sliding over each other, while he thrust that dick in and out of my lubricated pussy. He was grunting, gasping, trying to hold back another orgasm, but he had a playful twinkle in his eye. "You wanna prove to me how much you love cheating on your husband, Melanie? You gonna do that for me?" Having no idea what he was talking about, I grunted softly. "Uh huh!" My perverted lover suddenly pulled out of my cunt, lifting me down to the floor, where my wobbly knees barely kept me still. He paused, making sure I could walk -- which I could do, barely -- and he led me out of the bathroom. I had no idea where we were going. We didn't head for the bed, but instead, into the hallway. I was chuckling, in part because my sore legs could hardly get me to amble at his slow pace, and in part because he had a sinister grin on his sexy face. Michael clutched my hand in his fist, making me trail him, as he led me through my house. Dripping with shaving cream down my thighs and asscheeks, I allowed myself to head into, of all places, the kitchen. The kitchen! He paused, his erection jutting out from his flat belly, dripping in shaving cream. "So, get me a plate you use for dinner at night -- go on!" This was really weird, but I was so turned on, I did as told. I had to think, my brain was only thinking about sex, but I fished out of the cabinet one piece of the dinnerware I'd normally use to feed my husband. Tall, athletic Michael smirked as he saw me hold the plate. He had me get on my knees, holding the plate in front of my chin, almost like I was begging. But then he stood in front of me, and I understood. I watched as Michael jerked off his erection, pointing it right at my mouth. "Tell me to cum on your married face, you bitch," he slurred at me, gasping, as his arm powerfully pumped his cock inside his closed hand. My blue eyes were staring at his cockhead, knowing it was about to explode with his semen. "Cum on my married face, baby, I want you cum!" He did. Michael's dick erupted with his third orgasm of the afternoon, splattering streams of the hot, gooey jism into my lips and chin, and onto the dinner plate I was holding. He grunted and groaned, his fist pumped that long shaft repeatedly, drawing out every last drop of cum from his balls. "There you go, bitch," gasped my lover, "there you go, lotsa cum for you, all this cum for the horny married slut, fuckin' around behind her husband's back!" "Give it to me," I cried back, feeling the hot jism dripping down my lips. Michael's last few drops dribbled onto the plate, so that every bit of his ejaculation was on my lips and chin or on the plate. Then, he had me use the edge of the plate to scrape off his sperm from my skin, so that as much of the sperm was on the plate as possible. "Now," he growled, grabbing my head in his free head and pushing my face downwards, "lick it up, clean off the plate, show me you love my cum." Oh fuck, I did. I did, I did, I did. I opened my mouth, and my dainty tongue shot out, tasting the nasty, salty spunk on the flat clean plate. The horny flavor made me think of what a horny slut I was. I looked up at him towering above me, feeling him hold my head in place against the plastic dinnerware, and I began lapping up the cum from the plate. Every drop of it. All around the plate I licked, like a dog eating her dinner, a real bitch. Mmm, I smiled at him, tasting his jism as I swallowed it, turning the plate around and around, licking up all of the cum from it. "Good slut, good slut," Michael laughed, watching me intently, "fuck, you really do love fucking around, you cheating little bitch!" When I was done cleaning off the plate, he took it from my hands and put it on the countertop. "Okay, now, you have to promise me, you little whore -- you're going to feed your husband dinner on THAT plate tonight, right? And you won't wash or clean it -- you put his dinner on it, and you make him eat from the plate where you licked my cum from it, okay?" His cold green eyes stared down at me, expecting me to agree. That a disgusting, perverted idea that was. "Yes," I whimpered, wanting to please my lover, and inwardly enjoying the thought of being so bold as to belittle my husband that way, even if he didn't know. "Alright -- yes -- I'll do it!" Instead of smiling, Michael sneered, and his hand flattened and slapped my face hard, firmly, one crisp motion that exploded with a skin-on-skin pop, followed by my whimper from the lingering, sharp pain. "No, Melanie -- tell me what you're going to do, exactly?" On my knees, naked, looking up at him, my pussy dripping wet, I panted, "I'm going to use this plate to feed my husband dinner tonight, he won't know I licked your cum off of it!" Fuck, I was getting horny at the idea, it was so nasty and stupid, but it was turning me on. "I sooo promise!" We kissed again, Michael standing me up, helping guide my hand to the countertop to rest the special plate gently in place there. It was nearly 4 p.m., and Michael had someplace to be going. Nothing special, he said, but after three orgasms that afternoon -- and with me completely spent from fucking Colin and him -- he said I should probably get a nap, and another shower. He was right on both accounts. I helped him dress, we kept kissing, and he apologized for slapping me so many times. I just grinned, shrugging my petite shoulder and saying, "Actually -- I loved it!" I pinched his butt through his underwear. "You can slap me around silly, as long as you keep fucking me, you nasty perv!" He gave me a very warm kiss on the lips. "I love helping you cheat on your husband, you bitch," he confided with an amiable grin, "promise me you'll keep telling me all the details of the other guys you fuck too?" That was another promise I'd keep, I told him. So as Michael left, I moaned and rubbed my wet pussy, amazed I'd had two cocks in it that day. Not a bad day at all, one of the best. I still didn't realize there was yet more cock to fuck! Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 09 9. The Day: I'm Melanie. I'm a 30 year old, married slut who cheats on her husband almost daily, if not even more often than that, because he can't come close to satisfying me and I can't possibly get enough cock anyway. This is another entry in my memoirs. At the time I'm writing this, I've got about eight to ten guys who I count as "boyfriends" -- guys I fuck somewhat regularly. I decided to write down how I got here -- the doting, boring suburban housewife to the cheating, cock-loving little bitch that I know I am -- because I know how impressed many guys are with me. I've done some really, ridiculously naughty things. Really depraved, outrageous things. Two years ago, before all this started, I barely even had fantasies about some of the things I've done. I can't get enough attention from hung, sexy men (and hot ladies too!). I want every reader of this to crave me, as much as I crave the men in my life. Don't you want me? My petite 125 pound frame, my long dark hair and slender, triangular face, my hot small ass, my gorgeous C-cup tits. I'm here for you, baby, are you man enough to please me, hmm? So go on, grab your dick (or jam your fingers in your twat), read on and I hope you get off as hard as I have! * * * * ("The Day" I will never forget was almost exactly nine weeks ago, as of the time I'm writing this.) The night of my threesome with two men, Brad and Tommy, was something of a high-watermark for me, or so I'd thought at the time. I suppose every girl fantasizes about fucking two hot studs at once, and that was my first time doing it. I loved it, I was good at it, the two men had a great time with me. It confirmed my self-image -- I'm hot, I'm a great fuck, I can please two men at once. Mmm, my husband has no fucking idea what he's married to, what kind of whoring tramp I am. But, like I always say, life is stranger than fiction -- or, fantasy in this case. A couple weeks later, I had a day that was beyond even my own kinky fantasies. I wouldn't say "too good to be true," because "good" doesn't even apply. It was, well, unbelievable. After fucking both steamy Colin and perverted Michael back-to-back in the same afternoon, you'd think my day was would be done, right? Should have been. But my carnal cravings were exploding on me, and that day had not yet ended. Thoroughly messy after the slutty sex with Michael, I did step into the shower again, washing off the shaving cream from my crotch and ass, and giving myself a douche to clean out the cream from my pussy. My hair was tangled from showering then drying without being brushed, so I had to take care of that, getting it wet again, and brushing it out. My arms hurt so much, my muscles sore, that lifting the brush to my long hair made me laugh. I found myself sitting in front of the mirror on my vanity, admiring my round tits, knowing I'd just fucked TWO hot men in the same day. And I'd get away with it, my husband would never find out. Now, there was the matter of that plate? Was I going to go through with it, was I really going to feed my husband dinner on the same plate where I'd licked off Michael's cum? At first, I told myself, of course I wasn't. But I started to think about it, sitting at the mirror. I could feed him something with a thick sauce, like a steak, or mashed potatoes, whatever lingering flavor was there -- and there wouldn't be much -- he'd never be able to tell. In fact, there was probably so little cum left on the plate, the only "flavor" would be from my saliva, and he'd never really taste that on his food. I was getting horny at the idea. I went into the kitchen, nude as usual, and inspected the plate. Ooh, there it was, this was so sinfully sexy. I sniffed it, and couldn't smell any odor on it. In fact, sitting in the sunlight, it almost looked clean, only a think smear of my saliva on it. Fuck, things come out of our old dishwasher looking dirtier. Yeah, I could do this. Should I? No. But, I was going to, it was a sexy thought, Michael was so nasty and depraved. Standing there naked in my kitchen, picturing my husband eating off the plate, I suddenly was really horny again. Really, really horny, as in, I needed to take care of myself. Even after all that sex that day! I wound up on my bed, pretending I was there to take a nap, but in fact I was lying on my back with pillows under my small shoulders, my hand rubbing juices around my aching, throbbing clitoris. I had been fucked so good, but my body wanted another orgasm. So I started imagining sex, both with Colin and Michael, and with other guys I'd been with, and also picturing my husband eating off that plate. Yeah, an orgasm was in my near future. Except my cellphone rang, and I knew it wasn't my husband by the ringtone. Horny Melanie wanted to know who was calling me, so I actually bounced off my bed (with sore limbs and all) and retrieved my cellphone from my purse on the dresser. It was Brad, the hot stud I'd picked up at a bar and by whom I'd gotten double-fucked with his out-of-town friend Tommy. I'd fucked Brad, just him and me, twice since then. He lived less than an hour from me and he was single, but he couldn't take off of work much. So, our schedules never meshed. Plus, he was regularly seeing some hot chick whom he said, if you can believe this, was an 18 year old high school senior (Brad was in his early 30s), and he didn't want to make her suspicious that he was fucking another woman. But he and I hooked up a couple of times he'd been able to get some time off of work, and with his very athletic, muscular body, he was one hot fuck. I hurried to answer it, standing there nude in my bedroom. Brad was his usual, friendly self, his voice calm and casual. He's such a hunk. He said his boss was giving everyone the afternoon off, and his girlfriend was going to be at pom squad practice, so would I like to meet him for a drink? Immediately, I thought to myself, I can't go fuck Brad, not after taking Colin's and Michael's cocks that day. I didn't have the strength or energy; shit, I thought I could barely drive to see him. My voice might have sounded reluctant as I thanked him for the offer. Brad laughed and was apologetic, not wanting to make me feel cornered, but he said we could just have drinks, we didn't need to "get naked" if I didn't want to. He sounded so sincere and friendly, as usual, and I hadn't been taken out for "just drinks" in a while -- like I said earlier, most of my adventures were with other married, professional men who were pressed for time and thus we typically just got right to the sex. (Like Colin.) Drinks with a guy I'd already fucked? That sounded sweet. So, even though I was exhausted, I agreed. I couldn't say no to that friendly, sexy voice. Less than an hour later, I was walking into a hotel bar about halfway between Brad's and my homes, my emotions a little disheveled. It was about 5:30 p.m. or something like that, so I knew I only had an hour or so before I had to get home before hubby would be there. I wouldn't even have a chance to make dinner, I'd have to pick up something along the way. So, part of me was nervous about not having time to do this. Part of me was nervous about having "drinks" with a guy, on a day I had no energy from being such a slut. And part of me was nervous that I'd break down and want to fuck him, although clearly I didn't have the time to do that. Smiling, hunky Brad was waiting for me. He was dressed in a tight button-down shirt that showed off the masculine shape of his shoulders and arms, and his rock-solid chest muscles. Mmm, very tasty. His dark hair was even shorter than I'd remembered it, he'd gotten a "buzz" cut. Brad's blue eyes looked inviting, his demeanor was relaxed and confident. Seeing me in a smart, conservative loose, light-blue tunic top and looser, dark blue skirt, he winked and gave me a peck on my cheek, bending way down for that. He smelled good, an expensive, understated cologne or lotion. Nicely, there wasn't anything sexual about the greeting, just a friendly "hello." We sat at a booth, across from each other. I looked around, wondering if anyone might see me there with him. There aren't a whole lot of people in my home town who know both me and my husband, so odds were low. It's not like my hubby and I visit hotel bars, anyway. The place was mostly professional men relaxing with clients, except for a table of what looked like four or five female teachers bantering together. In the disarming setting, it was easy for me to keep my attention on the stud in front of me. Then we got to talking, just leaning towards each other, chatting quietly. His eyes focused on my face the entire time, it was very warm and cozy. We'd never really talked much, except for pillow talk, so that time at the table was very revealing about Brad. He's a softy. His mom was older and in a rest home, and he spoke passionately about the lack of care there but how he couldn't afford a better place for her. His dad died years ago in a car accident, and even after so much time, he eyes watered over talking about that -- then he apologized for getting too much into such melancholy subjects. I started finding out what he did in his spare time, including fly fishing and coaching girls' softball. Ah, so that's how he met the 18 year old he was dating, I figured. No, actually, he met her online, he said, blushing. I pretended to scold him for being a pervert, but I couldn't blame him whatsoever, could I? Brad answered all my questions about himself, then asked about me. What's there to say about me. Bored, lonely suburban housewife. I told him how I'd tried to start an online business a couple of years ago, but it failed -- largely because I wasn't dedicated enough to put the effort into it. My online sex activities probably are the main blame for that, although I didn't tell him that. We talked about college and careers, and somehow about finding newer homes in farther-out suburbs, and then about good, underpriced restaurants. I mean, a rambling conversation, nothing really sexual, just getting-to-know-you, even after having fucked each other three times. As we talked, at some point, his hand slipped around mine. Holding hands across from each other at the booth, looking into each other's eyes, it felt very romantic. I really liked his character, and it was easy to slip into a mode of adoring the sexy man. And, suddenly, I was feeling guilty. Fucking men on my marital bed earlier that day? Not so guilty. But having a personal, intimate and non-sexual connection with a man not my husband? Maybe it was an ephemeral, fleeting moment, but it was very real, and it unnerved me. I wasn't supposed to be having these kinds of feelings for men I just wanted to fuck. There was a hot waitress, too, who didn't make things easier on us. She said we made a "cute couple," even though my wedding ring was glistening on the same hand he was holding. Yeah, I wear the ring when I go on fuck dates, it's sexy to me -- kind of flaunting how I cheat on my husband. The booby, early-20s blonde winked at me, complementing me on "my man." When she walked away, I teased Brad about staring at her round butt in her cocktail waitress dress, and he adoringly replied, "I wasn't even looking at her butt, you fool -- I've been staring at you -- you'd have seen that if you weren't staring at her butt yourself!" Brad stood up from his side of the booth, and slipped to my side, putting his big arm around my petite shoulders, sliding his meaty hip right against mine. His other hand crossed his body, taking my hand into his grasp again, putting our enjoined hands on our hips where we touched. I felt his presence envelope me, not just his arm, but his eyes, his breath, his aroma, his masculinity. "I can't stop staring at you," he whispered into my ear, almost professing humiliation, "I know you're married, I don't mean to be a pest, but you're really just about perfect, Melanie, I'm sure your husband tells you that constant." Wow, I was weak again, looking up at the hunk of a stud next to me, his eyes locked onto mine. My hand melted into his hand, I sank sideways against him a bit, using his body to prop up mine. "You're sooo sweet," I purred back, feeling like a school girl on her first date, squeezing his hand with mine. "And -- I'm not acting married when I'm with you, right? So -- don't worry about that!" So, of course, it happened, we began kissing -- softly, romantically at first, just touching wet lips to wet lips. Then back for more. Then a short burst of electricity, tongues fleetingly glancing off each other, pulling back flush with embarrassment at being so affectionate. Brad's eyes looked over my body hungrily. My clothing was intentionally not very revealing, but he knew what was under it, he'd seen me nude three times before. I felt his desire for me radiating through his face, my pussy tingled at the way he was looking over me. Shit, it was making me horny for him, damn I knew this would happen! "Melanie," his quiet, manly, melodious voice muttered to my nearby ear, "I wish you had more time, to stay -- can I show you something?" I giggled, thinking he was referring to his penis. But, playing coy, I shrugged and said, "Sure, what do you want to show me?" To my surprise he fished into his pocket, and withdrew a small object he placed on the table in front of me. It was a room key -- really, a credit-card sized magnetic card, with the hotel's emblem squarely in the middle. I think I lost my breath in surprise seeing it, not really expecting it, and when I looked back at him, he explained himself. "Really, I didn't think we'd need this, but -- on the off-chance you wanted to -- I got a room, for us, just in case." Wow. He was making things really difficult for me! I checked the time on my cellphone, it was 6:23. We'd been there about an hour. Damn, I really needed to get home, didn't I? But . . . the way the sexy hunk of love was looking at me, and he was so adoring and adorable, and I was enjoying myself. Really, I was in a trance, there was something magical about this hour with Brad. My heart and pussy were jointly volunteering for the mission to accompany him to the hotel room somewhere above our heads, but I was still fretting about the time. I had become extremely uncomfortable about getting home too late from fucking another man, lest my husband realize where I've been. Looming over me was my husband's reaction when I got home too late for a fancy dinner engagement, my expensive hair-do all screwed up from having sex with Michael for the first time. Say no, Melanie, I told myself, say some other time. But, he'd already gotten the room and paid for it. That was sooo nice of him. And he's so dreamy, so enjoyable. "I'd love to," I answered, batting my eyelashes, knowing I was blushing. I gulped once to clear my throat. "But, I need to make sure I can stay a while longer, okay?" Brad nodded, whatever you need, he said. Both of us were starting to boil over in sexual lust now, knowing there was a good chance we could be humping each other very, very soon. That's what my body wanted at that moment, for sure. I fumbled around to reach into my small purse and take out my cellphone again, and sitting right next to my lover with his arm around me, I called my husband. Nervously, I looked to Brad, giving him the "quiet" sign of my finger in front of my puckered lips. Then my husband answered, and I launched into a lie I made up on the spot. I'm out window-shopping, I told him, there's a store a little ways away that has some drapes on sale I might want for the living room, would he mind if I got home later? You'd have to pick up dinner for yourself, I told him. Instead of sounding disappointed or mad, my hubby seemed to breathe in relief. That's fine, he told me, he had a project that was overdue for a client on the other coast, and he was planning to work on it later that evening. How about, he told me, he gets home at like 9 p.m. and we'd have a late supper together? Of course, his cheating, lying wife instantly agreed to the deal. He told me he loves me. While I was staring into Brad's eyes, I said back to him, "Love you too, darling, see ya later." I snapped the phone shut and reported to my boyfriend, "I'd have to leave about 8, or something?" Brad's arm around my smallish shoulders gave me a squeeze. "I'll take whatever time you have for me," he offered with a soft purr, kissing my temple with his warm, wet lips. So, we headed out of the bar to go fuck. Well -- to make love, really. A few minutes later, I was standing alone in the closed bathroom of the hotel room, staring at the mirror. The toilet was still running, I'd just flushed it, I couldn't avoid doing a "#1" before getting active with Brad on the bed. Staring into the mirror, I was questioning the attractive brunette looking back at me. Melanie, I thought without spoken words to my reflection, are you really going to have sex with a THIRD man today? And it wasn't just horny, perverted sex like I had with Michael, or even the sensuous affair with Colin hours earlier. Brad was really into me, we were connecting, this was getting personal. I was really cheating now, wasn't I? Time was passing, I was standing there. I washed my hands, which I needed to do anyway, but I was stalling for time. A bitchy voice in my brain was telling me, just go home, you need to get control of your life at some point, and might as well do it now. Are you going to be such a whore that you spread your legs open for any guy who wants you, even three in one afternoon? I dried my hands. I put the towel back, slowly. I looked at myself in the mirror again. So what will it be, Melanie? Mmm, my pussy was aching, I felt it wetting my panties. My nipples were firm in my bra. Brad was out there, sexy, hot, loving, wanting me. I had the time, over an hour, at least. My hands reached for the bottom hemline of my tunic, which I pulled over my head, and the sight of my tits in my lacy black bra propelled me to continue. I removed my bra, admiring my own bosom in the mirror, I do so love my own tits. Firm, round, meaty, with big pink nipples, so fucking hard. Men love them, Brad was going to love them again. Quickly, nervous to get it going, I kicked off my sandals, then I unzipped and unsnapped the skirt, stepping out of it, and finally I bent over and peeled off my red lace thong, standing up so I was naked now. Mmm, I looked good naked, if I had a twin I'd definitely fuck her. I wanted to be a little sexy, not just a naked slut, so I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around myself, covering my nipples to just past my pussy. It was evident I was nude underneath. Clutching the towel tightly, I opened the bathroom door and emerged into the hotel room. Brad was naked too, sitting upright in the King size bed, his back propped up by pillows against the headboard, the bed sheet pulled to his lap to cover his penis. I could see the tent rising from his lap, however. He leaned back, his muscular shoulders and arms so masculine and meaty, so powerful, contrast to the amicable smile on his lips and tender gaze from his big eyes. Seeing me in the towel, he patted the space on the bed next to himself, muttering, "I'm so happy you can be with me today, Melanie, you're almost making me feel guilty." Sauntering over to the bed, seeing his eyes ravish me in the towel, I cocked my head to the side and let my long, brown hair spill down my chest. "Aren't I the one supposed to be feeling guilty," I asked playfully, "I'm the married one, after all?" Having his full attention, I stopped next to the bed and peeled away the towel, showing him my naked body, his eyes darting to the sight of my hard nipples and my always-shaved pussy, now glistening and pink. Smiling at his reaction, I purred, "Got any room for me under those covers, darling?" Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 09 He pulled the covers back, showing me the huge erection sticking out of his firm lap, the way-above-average penis swollen, leaking precum, pulsating for my attention. Ribbed, with veins popping out, a purple rim around his fat helmet, Brad's manhood was ready for me. He opened a space under the covers next to himself, patting it again. "Right here, honey." Turning my back to him to slip into the bed, I giggled to myself, then had to explain to Brad as I slid my nude body up against his, hip to hip. "I'm sorry," I quipped, "I called you the same thing I did my husband -- 'darling' -- do you want me to call you something else?" Brad was rolling to face me, his arm crossing to slide under my shoulders, his big body sliding over mine. "You can call me anything you want, including darling," were his last words before his mouth pressed against mine, firmly, sealing our lips together. I don't think we broke the kiss for a long, long time, not until after Brad had his first orgasm inside my married vagina. We made out, hands all over each other, his hand cupping my C-cup breast then fingering me wet pussy, while my hands explored his sexy back and powerful buttcheeks, then holding and stroking his throbbing, long erection. As our kissing became more intense, I spread open my legs for him, wanting him to fuck me, and Brad didn't wait. He slid on top of me, our mouths still locked together, my lips already messy with the mixture of our saliva. My smallish hands groped his meaty asscheeks, pulling him on top of me, my wet hole already kissing the soft round head of his penis. We didn't break stride, we continued to fuck each other's mouths with our tongues, then Brad's dick did the same to my vagina, he entered me with a solid, confident push, and instantly I had over an inch of Brad's meat inside my married twat. I was cheating again, doing it really good this time, loving Brad not just with my body but my heart too. The first three times we'd fucked -- the first time in the threesome, then the last two times just us together at Brad's town house -- it had been animal sex, like with Colin or Roger or my other boyfriends. Today was not animal, it was human. Very personal. The kissing didn't end, my hands were all over his body as he molested me, driving his massive shaft into my already-sore cunt, making me feel fulfilled and satisfied and so hungry for him. I was moaning into the kiss, whimpering really, crying for more and more as he gave me all he could shove inside my cunt. My vagina couldn't take his entire length, but he was far enough that I felt the pressure way up inside me; my vaginal lips were stretched tightly around his boner as it slid in and out so I could feel the ridges of the concrete pole. As he drilled me so deeply, his fat balls smacked my little soft asscheeks, tickling my fanny. He and I continued to kiss madly, and my vagina exploded with an orgasm, contracting around his cock, squeezing it, driving me insane with lust and adoration. Sucking air from his lungs into my mouth, I began uncontrollably begging him for something, but I don't know what. "Yes, Brad, yes, yes -- more, more -- I want you -- do it, Brad, baby, honey, do it!" The kissing continued, muffling our words, joined by the grunting from our lungs, and the thumping of the bed against the wall. "Yes, yes," I purred, and he back at me, and the words started flowing. "Melanie, ohhh gawwd!" he erupted, still kissing me, humping me with more fury, really shoving his cock into my body, "ohhh Melanie, yes, baby, I love you!" And I said it back. "I love you too, Brad, yesss, do it!" Suddenly he was spewing inside me, our kiss continuing, I felt his cock squirting into me, his body tensing and shaking, his forehead beaded with sweat. His hulky figure pressed my half-sized body into the bed, his weight spreading open my slender legs, my cuntlips stretched around the fat base of his penis while he shot his load into the back of my pussy. We kissed and kissed, my hands wandering all over his manly back and round buttocks, while he poured out his juices into my body. Finally, his orgasm spent, he broke our kiss for the first time and leaned up, towering above me, his erection still hard and still inside my cunt. Staring at my meaty breasts, making me smile at how he admired me, Brad's face was flush with a crimson color, from a mixture of exertion and desire. "Melanie!" His eyes were back to staring at mine. "You're -- you're beautiful, Melanie!" "You too, honey," I admired back, my hands rubbing his sweat around his firm shoulders, feeling his cock still throbbing inside my pussy, my body opened up for him. "You're great, Brad, sooo sexy, sooo wonderful." The stud was still hard, despite having climaxed inside me he was beginning to fuck me again, like we never really stopped. This time, his ass undulated in large, swooping circles, drawing that hard penis in and out of me, I could hear it making noises as it pushed through my sloppy wet pussylips. Arching my back, pushing my hips up to meet his cock, I gasped for air, my sore body trying to muster every last bit of energy to fuck him. "Yesss, Brad!" The words just came out of my mouth, from the heart. "I love you, Brad, I love you!" I didn't really "love" him, I wasn't choosing him to be my "man" above everyone else in my life. But at that moment, fucking him, sharing the time with him, I did love him. I might have been "in" love with him, at that moment, and around him. I didn't feel shy about the words, I wasn't lying, I wasn't misleading him. That came later, after we fucked more. He had me ride him, so he could play with my tits, and we continued to make out. Then we did some doggy-style. It was a good 60, 70 minutes of nonstop sex, and finally he unloaded in my pussy for what must have been the third or fourth time that hour. I couldn't tell, the sex just never stopped, his cock hardly ever came out of my vagina. Sweating, panting, so sore, he was still inside my pussy in the doggy-style position, leaning down far to kiss me as I looked back at him. His big hands were pawing my sweat-covered tits, his cock was still aching inside my drenched, burning pussylips. He broke the kiss and said, I was the hottest fuck he'd ever had, he wished we could be together every day. I said, softly, "Me too, baby, me too!" Okay, that was a lie. Brad was great, but every day? Eh, I didn't seem myself doing that. You know, I further compounded the lie. Later he asked if we could get together every day at lunchtime, he'd try and make arrangements at his work. I said I usually was too busy, that was my "running-around" time. Yeah, running around to fuck other men. I couldn't see Brad every day, that would be too tough on my regular sex life. Shit, I wasn't only lying to my husband these days, I was even lying to my boyfriends! I stayed until right about the time I absolutely had to leave, then I raced home and picked up dinner for myself and hubby. It was difficult moving quickly, my body was so incredibly sore -- my legs were wobbly, my back ached, my pussy and groin were on fire. But it felt fantastic, having the cum of three men inside me, knowing my cunt had been stretched out by three throbbing pricks. The joy of that feeling kept me going. I was able to grab dinner-to-go for hubby and myself, and get home fast enough to wash off sweat and juices from my skin before hubby got home. As I leaned against the countertop in the kitchen putting dinner together, I could feel the sperm trickling down my inner thighs, pantiless underneath a very loose skirt. It felt amazing, a constant reminder of what a slut I'd been. Three great fucks, all so unique and different. And there, at the table, was my clueless hubby, thinking I was sore from a "hard workout" at the gym. I needed to plate his dinner. There it was, the special plate on the countertop, licked clean of Michael's cum, waiting for my hubby. Wow, this was really, really mean of me, wasn't it, serving my husband his dinner on that plate, soiled by his cheating wife and her pervy lover? I mean -- this was really cruel, in a stealthy way, wasn't it? Fuck that, I laughed to myself, dumping my husband's food onto the plate and serving it to him. Damn, that was fun to do! Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 10 I'm Melanie. I'm a 30 year old, married slut who cheats on her husband almost daily, if not even more often than that, because he can't come close to satisfying me and I can't possibly get enough cock anyway. This is another entry in my memoirs. At the time I'm writing this, I've got about eight to ten guys who I count as "boyfriends" -- guys I fuck somewhat regularly. I decided to write down how I got here -- the doting, boring suburban housewife to the cheating, cock-loving little bitch that I know I am -- because I know how impressed many guys are with me. I've done some really, ridiculously naughty things. Really depraved, outrageous things. Two years ago, before all this started, I barely even had fantasies about some of the things I've done. I can't get enough attention from hung, sexy men (and hot ladies too!). I want every reader of this to crave me, as much as I crave the men in my life. Don't you want me? My petite 125 pound frame, my long dark hair and slender, triangular face, my hot small ass, my gorgeous C-cup tits. I'm here for you, baby, are you man enough to please me, hmm? So go on, grab your dick (or jam your fingers in your twat), read on and I hope you get off as hard as I have! * * * * (This covers about a two-week period that started just over two months ago, late this past April.) I'd been cheating on my ignorant, small-dicked hubby with a dozen or so men (and a couple of women) for about nine months. It had always been about me, I mean, doing what I wanted to do, because it felt great and made me feel alive and vibrant. However, for those couple of weeks, my sex with others had an edge to it -- a secret one, only I knew it, but it was mean. I mean, I was being mean to my husband, even though he had no fucking clue. I did, and that turned me on even more. The acorn for this oak tree started, as did most of my affairs, online. I'd been trading emails with a hot married guy from online, Jim, who was about 50 years old, had a boring, fat, prudish wife, and wanted to take some time off of work and fuck me silly. He had video clips of himself masturbating and also fucking a "soccer mom" he met online, and while he wasn't the most handsome man, he carried himself very sexually and got my pussy wanting some action from his dick. We had a date set up, to meet at the mall near me then "take it from there." I got there early and, in a really horny mood, bought myself a too-expensive, slutty black bra and g-string thong at VS. Back when I was a good, doting suburban wife, I'd have looked at it and marveled that anyone would wear such a thing, but I never would have bought it -- much less worn it -- for fear the three-digit purchase price would send my husband into orbit. Over time, his concerns about our budget were less important to me than the tingling sensation shooting from my crotch to my nipples. Wow, I'd look great in that outfit, I should get it for Jim. Buying the matching bra and thong set, I found a restroom in the mall and quickly changed into it in the stall. Yes, that meant I had to get completely nude -- taking off my white bra and red thong, strapping on the new ones, and getting dressed again. I felt so slutty doing it, my pussy was drenched by the time I was ready to leave the stall. I couldn't wait to meet Jim and fuck his brains out, after he saw me in the bra and thong. Only, no sooner had I put it on in a bathroom stall when I got an email from him, saying he had to take a rain check on our date. Fuck! He was really nice about it, he called me two minutes later, something came up at work. He PROMISED to make it up to me. That left me in one fucking horny, somewhat irritated mood all day. Screwing around on the computer didn't help. I went to the gym, flirted with the manager there whom I'd fucked before, Hector, but he didn't get off from work until 8 that night so he wasn't an option for my pussy that day either. I even flirted with a cute woman working out at the gym, going so far as to offer to get drinks with her, but she politely declined. By nightfall, having pretended to be the good wife of my husband for a couple of hours, I was dying to get laid hard. My husband isn't a very good fuck and his cock absolutely does not satisfy me, but he was my only option. I was still wearing my new bra and thong. Hubby was sitting in bed watching the late-night news, and I came into the bedroom wearing only the new lingerie. I spun around, did a little dance for him, getting his little pecker hard while shaking my ass in the thong and touching my big tits in the see-through black bra. I was on fire, really teasing him, grinding my wet crotch over his penis through his pajamas and my thong. "C'mon baby, don't you WANT me," I teased him, even dry-humping him, also sliding his smallish pecker between my tight, soft asscheeks. "Your wife is hot for cock, sweetie, gimme it!" Hubby obliged, but I'd turned him on too much. He came in like five minutes. I was still wearing the thong and bra, I'd started fucking him without getting undressed, hoping to do that later. He didn't last long enough. My husband is a one-time-only fucker, so when he came in me, that was it. He certainly wasn't going to lick or finger my pussy at that point, with his sperm in it. We were done. Shit was I frustrated! Not just sexually, but with his lack of attention. He didn't notice I was in a new bra and thong, and a very sexy, slutty one. He seemed to tolerate me teasing him, but I think he knew it was going to reduce his performance, and he was right. My husband wouldn't particularly notice me in a hot new outfit? Well, there were plenty of guys -- and girls -- who would do that. The next morning, mad and really extremely horny, I took photos of myself in the bra and thong, just a few very sexy ones. Then I emailed them to about 10 guys I'd met online, plus one female, telling them to react to my photos and tell me what they'd want to do to me. I was in the mood to be worshipped, I was fishing for complements, that was for sure. (To any women reading this -- I highly recommend you do that, I mean, send pictures of yourself to your online boyfriends unsolicited, you'll love the reactions!) Over the course of the next few days, I got responses from my boyfriends and Tawney, and everyone pretty much told me how they wanted to fuck me. The exchanges led to a series of phonesex and Skype or iPhone video fucks I had with several of my online lovers -- Tawney, Chuck, Adam and David that very week; and it convinced another one of them, Mark, to finally take another afternoon off from work to come fuck me again. So, this very same bra/thong set that barely registered a blip in my husband's radar was going to get a lot of use. And I mean a LOT of use. The guy who stood me up, and for whom I originally bought the lingerie, Jim, offered to make it up to me by taking me to a fancy lunch at a four-star restaurant downtown. Actually, he mentioned a few places, including ones I'd visited with my gal pal Blayne. But, feeling frisky, I asked him to pick the most expensive and romantic place, and I'd meet him there. And get a hotel room, I told him, not so jokingly. Jim is -- well, it wasn't my normal affair. Like, men online usually contact me just for sex, and I'm all about getting naked and having a ton of fun. Married men, especially, usually don't have time, interest or incentive for "getting to know you" or long lunches and boring stuff like that. That's for people who are dating. I like to fuck hot men I don't know, and I want them to fuck me, and so other than short meals because I'm hungry or because I want to check out a guy, I don't do long, romantic lunches. But, besides some perverted emails and the nasty action photos he sent me, Jim proved to be a gentleman. Almost apologetic and bashful when he talked to me on the phone, he wasn't as aggressive as I'd assumed he would be. I was a lot younger than his wife, and way prettier than her, so I thought I made him nervous. It was endearing, and I probably was more flirty and girlish than normal, soothing him and complementing his ego, all before even meeting him. Lunch was five courses, and it took like three hours, it was an event unto itself. Jim was very distinguished, sitting across from me at the table wearing a dress shirt and slacks, while we were serviced by old French guys. I was wearing a low-cut dress that was tight on my slender hips, and with my black bra and thong on underneath it, I was feeling like quite the young slut with him. Nothing in the conversation was particularly sexy; actually, Jim talked a lot about his wife, his problems with her, stuff guys normally don't do when meeting women from the Internet (at least with me). I opened up about my husband too, but didn't really let on how often I cheated on him. Only over dessert -- I had crushed strawberries with a cream and crumbled topping, it was divine -- did the conversation really get sexual. From the opened collar of his dress shirt, I could see the dark, curly hair on his meaty chest, and the bulges of his broad shoulders. He had grown a small mustache, his brow was always furled down like he was constantly worried about something. Awww, yeah, he was like a Nick bear. My sexual arousal had sparked, sitting there eating dessert and looking at him talking to me, so I became the aggressor. "Baby," I whispered to him, so no one near us could hear, "did you get a hotel room -- or, it's okay if you didn't, you gonna take me home now?" Jim blinked, smiling, that look in his eye. "I didn't get a room, I can if you want. You need to get home?" "Mmm hmm," I purred, stretching my foot out under the table sans shoe, finding his thigh, rubbing it with the sole of my small, stocking-clad foot, "I do, I need to show you how badly I want you to fuck me." Actually, that was the hottest moment of the day, even considering we had sex. Awkwardly, we'd both driven in separate cars, so he had to follow me home. In my house, he was sort of keeping his distance from me, eyeing me warily, as I showed him around and finally led him into the bedroom. There, I dropped to my knees, unzipping his pants and taking out his decent, six-inch erection, swollen for me. I sucked it a while, looking up at him diffidently, wanting to really turn him on. "Am I prettier than your wife," I asked, my tongue running around his erection, "does she suck your cock for you, do I do it better?" I didn't have to ask, I knew all the answers, and he confirmed what I'd suspected. I was way hotter, and she never did anything sexually interesting. That was stoking my fires, and it was time to take out the bra and thong and see if his reaction was different from my husband's. Getting him to lie on my bed naked, I stood on my knees at the end of the bed and peeled off the slinky dress I was in, watching his reaction. His eyes were popping out of his head. I blushed, seeing how he was so excited to see me strip, and then I did a little spin on the bed, letting him ogle my ass and tits barely covered in the see-through, super-tight black lingerie. He was unbelievably complementary, rubbing his hard penis while telling me how much he loved my body, how incredibly sexy I was, how much I turned him on. It wasn't just his words, it was the look in his eye, the way he was in a trance seeing my just-turned-30 young body, my creamy flesh, a meal for his eyes. Now, that is the reaction I wanted! I was so wet for him, as I crawled over him to straddle him and ride his 50-year-old, married penis, hoping to cap the romantic afternoon with a hot fuck. Frankly, to be brutally honest, Jim wasn't much of a good fuck at all. He did look in my eyes the whole time, it was very personal and sweet of him, endearing. He didn't make a lot of noises or talk like most of my lovers do, he didn't seem to really be interested in me talking nasty, and I had to do most of the moving. We tried doggy-style a few moment, but he didn't like it; I spent most of the time riding him, and even when he was on top of me, he just pushed forward and I had to gyrate my little butt furiously to feel his cock moving inside me. But, for the record, he was better than my husband, and I felt good fucking him that day -- in the bra and thong, as a way of getting back at my husband. I coaxed a couple of loads out of Jim's dick, both spurting into my vagina. He was apologetic about that, for some reason. I told him I loved it, and I sealed our sex by wrapping myself in the thong, containing his juices inside my pussy for the rest of the day. Yeah, that was a way better time with the slutty black bra and thong than my husband had shown me. And he wasn't the only one I fucked while wearing that very same bra and thong. It was sort of my "revenge tour," in a way, fucking a couple of different people while dressed in the slutty lingerie that my husband didn't fully appreciate. Two afternoons after boning Jim in my marital bed, I got laid in a motel room. One of my "regular" fuck buddies I'd first met online was Mark, I'd been screwing him since before Thanksgiving or Halloween the previous year. We didn't hook up all that often, maybe once a month or less, but I never turned down one of his rare offers to fuck. He was only so-so looking -- kind of nerdy and dorky, rotund, lots of crazy curly blonde hair -- but had a great, great cock that could really last long in bed. And he talked nasty too, he was not shy to speak his mind online, on the phone or in bed. Seeing the photos of me in the bra and thong, he was motivated to take another afternoon off of work and sink his pork meat into my married twat. Oddly, as I prepared to get dressed that day to meet him for sex, I had forgotten to put on the bra and thong. I had another, sexy lingerie set ready to go, a white one with a matching thigh-high stocking. I'd just come out of the bathroom, after showering and freshly shaving my vagina for Mark. Standing nude in front of my vanity, about to put on makeup, my husband called the house line. Hi honey, what's going on, I said to him, disinterested in anything he had to say but trying to sound affectionate. I was scanning my vanity, looking for some hot lipstick to pair with eye shadow. I have no idea what my husband said to me, or how long the conversation lasted. But the call spurred my memory. I just recall thinking, hmm, my husband! Which made me think of the bra and thong, and Jim and Mark, and it obviously made sense. I should put on the bra and thong, which Mark loved in the photographs and the reason I had a date with him that day. Obviously, I had to put it on. When my husband finally hung up, I sat naked on my stool and put on my makeup, perfume and jewelry, then proceeded to get dressed starting with that black bra and thong. Mmm, the thong was crusty, soiled, from Jim's sperm that had been dripping out of my cunt the other day. I liked it, it felt nasty and slutty. The thong's string dug into my little asscrack, making my buttocks feel even more exposed. Oh, I hoped it would make Mark good and hard, I snickered to myself, slapping my asscheek once. Mark and I met in the parking lot of a motel, he's already gotten a room for us. With Mark and me, there's nothing about our relationship other than sex. That's it. Hardly any talking, we said hello to each other and made out standing next to my old, beat-up little car (sooo embarrassing, my horrible car was), then we went straight to the motel room and fucked. Nothing but pure, hot sex, he was helping me cheat on my husband and he did a very good job of it. As Mark stripped me on the bed, he uncovered that sexy bra and thong on me, and I told him he had to leave it on me for the rest of the afternoon. He gave me a quizzical look, and I actually admitted why -- I told him my husband gave me a lousy fuck in it, and I wanted revenge by getting screwed good and hard by a real stud with a wonderful prick. Prying the thong to the side to expose my shaved vagina, I purred to Mark, "C'mon, you can fuck me while I am wearing this, can't you?" For more encouragement I pulled the bra down, exposing my big breasts and hard pink nipples, the tight bra holding up my titties towards him. "Just do it for me, show me I look good in this?" The curly-haired blonde pervert was yanking his erection out of his underwear, staring at me on the motel bed with my tits and twat exposed. "You look edible, you hot slut," slurred my lover, pulling his underwear off so he would be nude. "Can't believe your husband would ever give you a good lay, what's his fucking problem?" I was reaching for his penis, on my fours, wanting to get that thick, hard boner into my hungry mouth. Mmm, it tasted dreamy, so salty and musky, throbbing heat against my lips and tongue. Moaning while I sucked Mark's erection, I slobbered all over his penis to make sure he was fully primed and ready to fuck me. "My hubby's problem is," I giggled with a whimsical, high voice, "that he doesn't have a big, hard cock like you do -- just a little one that goes limp too fast -- and his wife CRAVES big, hard cocks like yours!" My lover and I were giggling as we looked at each other, he grabbed my long brown hair and bent down to kiss me hard, swirling his tongue around my mouth, sucking my tongue into his lips. When he broke the kiss, he snickered at his fucktoy for the day. "Well, if you crave it, then take it, use it." "Mmm, I will, baby!" I promised, pulling his warm mouth down for another long, sexy kiss, my hand stroking his saliva-covered erection, feeling its girth and heat. Fuck the guy wanted me badly. We crawled onto the bed, where I turned around on my fours to show Mark my small ass and wet, bald vagina from the backside, my thong tight and pulled to the side, my knees open and butt pushed into the air. "C'mon, honey, give me what I need, fuck me with that big awesome cock of yours!" We have great talk when Mark and I fuck. He crawled behind me, telling me how hot I looked still in the thong, my small ass and tight vagina waiting for him. Rubbing his cockhead on my twat, he gripped my hips firmly then sank his dick into me, drawing a howl of delight from my lungs. I grunted heavily, pushing back against him, feeling that thick pole sink into my wet hole, stretching me. "Ooh, yeah, baby, fuck me like that, your cock feels sooo good," I panted, looking back at him, seeing him admiring my ass in the thong. We built up a slow rhythm, fucking slowly but more deeply, he was still working his way into my pussy long past the point where my husband had an orgasm. "Mmm, Mark baby, you fuck me sooo good, you are sooo fucking good at fucking me -- damn, why can't my husband fuck me like you do?" Mark's eyes were in a trance on my little hot asscheeks, his pole disappearing into my pussyhole below it. "Fuck, baby, like how that feels, huh -- I'm so deep, but I'm going deeper -- let your pussy feel how thick I am for you, you turn me on so much!" "Yeah honey!" I had to put my head down on the bed, pushing my ass back, feeling that dick penetrating me even farther, so deep inside my hole. "Fuck me more, baby!" After the doggy-style sex, then rolling around fucking and kissing, I ended up riding him cowgirl-style. My bra and thong were still on, my tits jiggling around but pushed out of shape by the bra bunched up underneath them. Mark was reaching up, groping my big married boobies, twirling fingertips around my sensitive nipples and even pinching and biting them while my twat rode his sexy shaft. He was so hard, he'd cummed in me once but didn't stop fucking, it was endless sex with Mark every time. I gazed at his eyes, watching him admire my petite, thin body and glorious tits, arching my back and riding up and down while fucking him. Mark fucked me with his eyes, not just his dick; he completely appreciated me, how I look, my husband had stopped doing that years ago. I had the feeling I could fuck Mark daily, and he'd still give me the same look every time, even ten years later. Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 10 Wearing the bra and thong had been to get back at my husband, but they were superfluous by this point. I allowed Mark to remove the bra, so my big tits were free, and he could manhandle and suckle them as he pleased. His hands were groping my small asscheeks as I leaned over him, sliding back and forth, working his erection deep in my married vagina. I was grunting, gasping, feeling Mark's lips and tongue over my boobies while he fucked my pussy. I was having orgasms, multiples, screaming and crying now, riding Mark hard, feeling used and appreciated. Mark put me on my back, removing my thong, not asking if it was alright. I didn't stop him. When I was now as naked as he was, he spread me wide open and climbed over me. I pulled my knees back, inviting his cock back inside me, reaching to his face to pull him down for a hungry kiss. We started making out, French kissing, while Mark slipped his penis back inside my pussy. "So good, baby," I roared as we screwed on the motel bed, "you fuck me so good!" I couldn't stop blurting out what I was thinking, being fucked so well by this horny man. "I love you Mark, fuck me!" We were on the bed probably three hours or so, fucking quite a bit of that time, talking and kissing the rest. I did love Mark, like so many of the men I fucked. Afterwards, my pussy full of several loads of Mark's semen, I wrapped myself in the thong again and headed home, another successful afternoon of cheating on my husband. And the bra and thong were not done just yet. The following week, I was online one morning after my husband left for work. In the past, I had been checking out online adult ads for women who wanted bisexual female partners, it made me pretty hot to think about other females like me who fucking love cock and can't get enough, but had learned that sex with girls time to time was a lot of fun too. (Not that I had much experience at it; other than Blayne, I had sex with only the married mom I'd met online, Tawney). Eventually I'd gotten in contact with a couple of the women, and didn't get replied (probably weren't real women, right?), but one did reply. She was a married real estate broker, Susan, who used unoccupied homes and condos on the market as places to fuck people she met online or in person. So that morning sitting in front of my computer, I sent her an email about contacting me, and she called me thirty seconds later. It was one of those moments that my lust for sex with strangers took a hold of me. Makes me crazy with enthusiasm, I can't stop thinking about fucking people I hardly know, as long as they are sexy. Susan wanted to see what I look like, she'd forgotten what my pictures looked like on my online ad. I used the face call feature on my iPhone to show her my smiling face and naked tits, and Susan immediately said she wanted to meet me for sex. Just like that, based on looks alone. She said she could be available a couple days later -- or, if I was really adventurous, she was meeting one of her married male clients that very afternoon, so both could cheat on their spouses together in an empty "corporate house" Susan was listing. "You wanna meet us there? He's pretty cute, and I'm sure he'd love it, if you surprised him by showing up." Sex with a woman I'd just talked to on the phone for sixty seconds -- AND a male, who I didn't know anything about, like, age, name, looks, body? How crazy was I? Made me so fucking, furiously horny hearing the offer, and knowing I had the day free, I immediately accepted. Wearing that same black bra and thong under a sexy, see-through white blouse and tight red miniskirt with thigh-high black stockings, I was sitting in my car in front of the house Susan mentioned. It had to be the right house, it was the address she gave me, and there was a big "FOR SALE" sign on the front yard with her name on it. Horny as I was, I was still nervous about meeting her and a total, mysterious stranger. Nervous, but wet as fuck, the crusty thong was drenched with my juices. I had to squeeze my thighs, I was so ready to get naked and get fucked. What I also remember was sitting in my old, tiny cramped car, thinking to myself, the car -- from my college days -- is sooo not sexy, I needed better wheels for these fuckdates. Susan drove up in a black Mercedes (see?), and I went over to her, barely able to walk. We were standing next to her car in public, talking quietly, but both staring at each other's bodies. Susan is a blonde, she was in her late 30's or early 40's, so about a decade older than me. But she was fit as fuck, with petite, firm breasts on her slender, taller figure, and her long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail that fell halfway down her back. I could see the shape of her tits in her light-blue blouse, and she had slacks that were hugging her crotch and small butt. So, trying to look casual, we were standing on the street curb anxiously waiting for her "friend" to show up, both of us horny and anxious, but playing it cool. The guy drove up in his Audi (shit, I really did need a new car), and my already went cunt almost flooded itself when I saw him step out of the car. He had a European look, although he was from New York. Kind of an Italian or French guy, small and wiry, not much taller than Susan so he was only a few inches taller than me. But his hair was jet black, finely combed, with a two-day stubble beard that you know I loved on sight. He looked like he might have been a high school or college wrestler, he was really fit and looked powerful even at his slightly smallish size. Wearing dark sunglasses and a crisp, pressed suit, he walked over to the two of us, looking a little curious why I was there when he was supposed to meet Susan for sex. The real estate broker introduced us as follows. "Nick darling, this is my newest, bestest friend Melanie -- Melanie, this is Nick, my favorite client." She giggled, seeing the immediate tension and interest I had in the dreamy Nick, and the man at me. "Nick, I know we had a date today, but I couldn't resist asking Melanie over -- you don't mind, do you?" Sexy Nick, his awesome visage devouring my little body, smiled and shrugged very satisfied. "I absolutely do not mind -- great to meet you, your husband is one lucky man, very, very lucky." It made me snicker, and Susan cackled too. "Oh baby, not as lucky as her boyfriends are," sneered the horny woman, making both Nick and me laugh. I blushed, not believing she was so direct about my sex life. But she only had one thing on her mind. "Nick, what do you think, mind if we let her join us this afternoon?" Nick, with this big fucking gold wedding ring, rubbed his sexy, triangular stubbled chin as he obviously gazed at my C- cups, rounding out my tight white blouse with the black bra visible through it, then he gazed -- at all things -- at the huge wedding ring on my finger, sporting the three-carat diamond my hubby gave me many years ago. "Oh, I wouldn't mind at all," he purred softly and melodiously, "if she wouldn't mind herself? Always up to the lady." Susan blinked at me, stepping to Nick's side and putting her slender arm around his narrow waist. "And, don't you think Nick is just gorgeous?" I moaned, nodding, but trying to look nonchalant and casual. "Oh, he knows he is," I snickered, entranced by Nick's self-confidence, the stud's presence making me even more horny. I was about to have a threesome with these two hot perverts! I couldn't wait for it to start. See, that was the slut in me -- I wasn't thinking, hey I was married, I should feel guilty about this. No, I just wanted to get laid. The blonde real estate agent grabbed both of our hands in hers, squeezing them, delightfully giggling. "Then let's stop wasting time, let me 'show you' the house!" She was a strange bird. Instead of making a beeline for the bedroom, Susan took Nick (and me) into the kitchen, showing off the huge granite countertops, the fancy appliances, the built-ins lining the large room. She led us to the patio, then a TV room that was larger than anything in my own house. We were there to fuck, but the real estate agent was starting out by showing off the house. Nick, for his part, was listening politely and checking it out, while my eyes were checking out his tight ass. I just wanted to fuck, did I mention that? Susan saw the look in my eye, and the way I was staring at Nick's body. "I think," the blonde slurred with a grin, "maybe we should go upstairs and look at that master bedroom?" Nick didn't argue, nor did I. Up the stairs we went, the three of us, silently moving towards our rendezvous with each other. The 30-something blonde let us to a large, stately master suite, brightly lit by large windows and an overhead skylight. In the middle of the room was a cherry wood, four-poster frame surrounding an King-size bed, the walls nicely appointed without being too busy. I wasn't really paying attention. Having done this before, Susan led Nick to the bed where they methodically peeled away the layers of blankets and sheets, getting down to the last thin layer before the mattress. I actually had to snicker, it was funny watching it, but I guess a necessary task when you borrow someone else's house for some sex. While they rolled back the blankets and sheets, then began kicking off their shoes, Nick announced he only had about an hour. Susan agreed, that's about what time she had. She looked at me, and I said that was fine. It was a weird moment; very antiseptic, asexual, clinical. I mean, like, the appointment lasts an hour, and the appointment is for sex. Like I said, weird! The weirdness ended quickly, as I spied Nick starting to unbutton his shirt. Mmm, a dreamy man. He wasn't tall and built, like most of the men I find online or in person. He was only a few inches taller than me, but he was fit and athletic. I saw his chest had curly, dark hair on it, all over; his abdomen was flat and hard as granite; and his skin wasn't pale, he had a light bronze skin, not quite tan, but very Mediterranean hue. Mmm, dreamy. I was just standing there, staring at him disrobing his shirt, drawing a giggle from Susan across the bed from me. "You can get undressed too, honey," she teased at me. I looked over, she was already out of her top, showing off a white bra supporting smaller (A or B cup) breasts that were very proportionate to her tall, slender form. Sexy Nick peeled off his shirt, showing me his muscular upper arms, and he slipped a couple of paces to the side to stand near me. "Need some help with that, pretty lady?" he asked, reaching out to my white, semi-transparent blouse. I melted into his eyes and hands, letting him unfasten the buttons on my shirt, while I stared up into his gorgeous brown eyes, just a few inches above mine, letting his hands roam over me. He was fondling my larger breasts in my black bra, rubbing my hard nipples through the thin fabric, removing my blouse. Suddenly we were kissing, tongues wrapped together, he tasted GREAT. Manly, clean, expensive, his cologne mixing with his natural virile scents. I was sold, I wanted him to fuck me. While making out standing up with Nick, my hands went to his pants, unfastening them. I was joined by Susan, standing next to us wearing just a white bra and red panties, helping me unbuckle Nick's belt and get his pants loosened. I was moaning, jaw open, letting Nick's sexy tongue into my mouth, suckling it with my thin lips as he invaded. With Susan doing most of the work his pants came off, so did his underwear, and a moment later his awesome 7 1/2 inch penis was in my hand. Hard, fat, cut, thick, solid, swollen, hot. Burning against my small palm, leaking precum. Huge, hairy fat balls at the base. I stroked that monster in one hand, loving how it felt, feeling how turned on the sexy married man was. He pushed me down, in my black bra and red miniskirt I was kneeling on the floor next to Susan, both of us looking up at dreamy, pretty Nick. "God I love your cock, honey," I purred to him, my eyes drinking the sight of his incredible erection. For a relatively short guy, I'd never have dreamed his penis would be so long, so thick. It was, literally, the perfect size, completely perfect. Susan was holding it out, licking the head, letting me have the shaft and balls. I leaned forward, moaning in delight, tasting the manly, hot scent of his penis from the liquids on the shaft. I slurped down the soft, sensitive underside to his hairy balls, then licking and suckling them, rolling my tongue around them, before lapping a wet path back up the shaft. There, at his cockhead, my lips met blonde Susan's mouth, and we shared licking his big, fat peckerhead, before that turned into a full-on, girl-girl kiss, my tongue wrapping around Susan's, our lips melding together, her hand on my ass through my miniskirt, and my hand cupping one of her smallish boobies in her bra. Looking down from above us, Nick grinned at the sight of two married women making out in front of him, holding his hard dick and fat balls in our hands, turned on by the lesbian love. "You both look so good," he purred, "keep going, don't let me stop you." But both Susan and I were there for Nick more so than each other, so we didn't ignore him. Susan and I remained on our knees, kissing, making out, moaning and purring into our embrace, while both our hands were stroking and pumping Nick's long, fat erection. We had him so turned on, precum was streaming out his cockeye. Susan broke the kiss, sucking his cockhead more, I looked up at Nick longingly and waited my turn. The real estate broker backed off, letting me have a turn sucking Nick's pole, filling my married mouth with his very married penis too. Damn, he tasted amazing, just sucking his cock was better than fucking my husband. While I sucked naked Nick's penis, Susan undressed me, removing my red miniskirt, then unfastening my sexy black bra. So I wouldn't be in it to fuck them, as I did with Jim and Mark. Didn't matter. Wearing just my black thong and black thigh-high stockings, I pumped my mouth back and forth making my big, naked tits jiggle on my chest, something for Nick to see. Susan was all over my boobs, bending over, licking my girls back and forth with her warm, wet mouth while I sloppily licked the lengths of Nick's manhood. I was turning on both of them, I loved being a sex object for both a hot male and a sexy female. Continuing to suck Nick's pole, shoving it deeper into my mouth to touch the entrance to my throat, I wrapped a hand under Nick's scrotum and softly caressed his awesome, big sack of balls, finding them so much more full and meaty than my husband's little two peas. My eyes couldn't help but look up at Nick's firm, solid, hairy chest, and his gorgeous Italian face, smiling down at me. I wanted him to smile all afternoon because of me. Meanwhile, my other hand slipped to the side, finding Susan's panties, I lightly rubbed my fingertips over her crotch and teased her wet clitoris inside, making her hips swing softly in anticipation of more contact. The blonde sat upright, breaking our kiss, removing her white bra. Topless like me now, she pressed her breast against Nick's cockhead, kissing the eye of his penis with her hard brown nipple, rubbing my saliva on his cock over the soft flesh of her little booby. Mmm, I purred, that was a delicious sight, her small tit and his lengthy, solid cock. I leaned forward and stuck my tongue out, simultaneously licking her nipple and his cockhead, then licking around her breast and his dick back and forth, getting them all wet as he ground his dick against Susan's tit. With a giggle I sat upright, pressing my larger boob and longer, pale-pink nipple against Susan's breast and Nick's erection, and now us two women were tit-fucking the sexy male as we were on our knees in front of him. Nick stood upright more, moving his huge cock north, to our mouths; he pressed our heads together, and in unison Susan and I started lapping on his cockhead and shaft, lathering it with our saliva, moaning at how solid and hot it was against our lips and tongues. He pumped his hips back and forth, fucking our mouths. Facing each other, surrounding his cock in our lips, we let him slide that fat shaft back and forth, getting it all wet with our spit, pumping the air and feeling us licking his boner from bulbous tip to fat base, back and forth. All man, Nick took what he wanted -- both our cunts. He pulled us up to our feet, smacked our butts in our thongs and pushed us playfully to the mattress. Susan giggled and jumped on it, on her knees, peeling her panties off. Her cunt was trimmed, not bald; I wouldn't call it a beautiful cunt, but I'm not a guy. She had fat lips, very fleshy, and dark little hairs around her anus. Nick put me on my fours next to her, I proudly showed him my small, tight butt in my black thong. He peeled it off for me, smiling, I was glowing at his reaction to my shaved-bald, pink pussylips and clean little, puckered asshole. He slipped the thong off my feet, so I was wearing only the black thigh-thighs. I wanted Nick to fuck me, but I figured Susan would get it first. I was wrong. Nick bent down, licking my anus then my cunt from the backside, preparing me, making me shudder in anxiety for his prick. Susan slipped onto her back underneath me, spreading her thighs, offering me that wet married cunt of hers. "Mmm, taste me baby," she cooed at me, stroking my dark hair while my face hovered over her twat, smelling her nasty, sexy aroma, "I love being eaten by a gorgeous woman, you're the prettiest." She pushed my head down, I didn't resist. Hers was the third pussy I'd ever eaten, after Blayne the young blonde I met in a threesome, and Tawnie a married "soccer mom" I met online and had to drive three hours to go see. Susan's cunt was wet, sizzling; her flat hips were gyrating already before my lips hit it. I lapped at the juices on her puffy, soft pussylips, tasting her, then I moved my tongue and lips to her swollen clit surrounded in a fleshy hood. The bitch pulled the flesh back, exposing her little stiff knob, and my lips wrapped around it to suck the juices. She moaned, bucking her hips into my face, she was so turned on. Meanwhile, behind me, sexy Nick was still licking my pussy and twat, my hole was aching for his cock to fuck it. He did. Nick rose up, watching me eat Susan's pussy, and he just shoved that huge, fat penis into my married vagina. I loved it! I squealed, lapping at Susan's without stopping, moaning and pushing my hips back to fuck Nick. He filled me completely, stretching me wide, pushing a few inches of that hard manhood into my vagina. As he rocked his hips, shoving it deeper and deeper, my little ass started gyrating wildly too, like Susan underneath me, taking more and more of that hard cock into my cunt. Soon, Susan had reversed herself below me. She and I were in "69" position, the blonde on her back, me straddling her with my face above her pussy, and her mouth underneath mine. I continued to bend me head down, licking her wet clit, sliding my tongue inside her tight hole. The flavor of a female's cunt was so different from a hard male's cock, I was drinking her juices as they flowed out. Behind me, gorgeous Nick was burying his cock inside my pussy, shoving it hard into the back, making me feel pressure as deep as I have ever felt inside there. Susan was licking his balls and shaft while he fucked me, occasionally her tongue flicking off my clitty, teasing me while he fucked me. I couldn't help it, I had an orgasm, then another. The smells of our sex, the sight of her naked body and his sexy face and chest . . . his HUGE cock . . . it was perfection, I was in nirvana, I had an explosive, loud cum followed a couple minutes later by another one. Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 10 The sex became fluid. I couldn't describe the sequence of positions, of who did what to whom, from that point; we were always in motion, pausing to fuck one way or another, but constantly moving. He had Susan on her back, fucking her on top, while I sat on her face. She licked my cunt expertly, drawing out more orgasms. That allowed me to kiss beautiful Nick, and he was a sensuous, amazing kisser, sucking my little tongue into his mouth, pawing at my big tits which he loved. My tits, mmm. He licked them while fucking Susan's pussy, and I cummed from the attention of his mouth on my stiff nipples and her tongue against my twat. She licked my clean asshole, while he licked me pussy -- two tongues on me at the same time, it was heavenly. Then it was my turn, licking Susan's wet, fuzzy vagina while Nick's long penis was buried in it, and Susan had her fingers inside my cunt. I was on my side on the bed, spread open, tasting Nick's fucking of Susan while pumping my pelvis against Susan's fist and feeling three fingers stretching out my vaginal lips. As hot and sexy as the threesome was, I was finding I was resenting Susan's presence. I just wanted to fuck Nick. At one point I was on my back, spread open, reaching my hands down to his divine body. His flat, hairy chest was above my body, he was leaning upright, pounding his pelvis into me, pumping that awesome, large erection in and out of my juicy cunt, making me scream like a schoolgirl. "Uh, yes, Nicky! Fuck me! Yes baby! Fuck me! Fuck me!" Yeah, I had a pet nickname for him already. He looked so good, those sexy brown eyes, handsome chiseled face, narrow body, muscular shoulders, rock-solid abdomen -- pumping over me, thrusting that huge, gorgeous dick in and out of me, I couldn't love it any more. I was in total lust, furiously humping him back, concentrating on how he looked and how he felt. But Susan was there, somewhere, trying to kiss him, or me, or suck my tits; I wasn't stopping her, but at that moment, I wished it was just her fuck buddy and me. I wanted him to be my fuck buddy that day, no one else's. Fuck, the guy could last. We'd been fucking about 30 minutes before he had his first orgasm. I was riding him, on top of him, sitting upright, my hands clenching the curly dark hairs on his flat, sweaty chest. Pumping my little body up and down, I rode that fat dick, sliding on it like a pole. Susan was on his face getting eaten, whipping her ass around in violent circles, screaming from her orgasms. He started cumming, I could feel him unloading inside me, he was pumping his jism out of that huge sack, deep into my vagina. I screamed for him to cum more, riding him harder, grinding my little ass down onto his hairy thighs, taking his sperm deep into me. And he stayed hard after his cum! Not many men I fuck can do that, I love the ones that can. When I was full of his sperm, Susan wanted it, she got on her back and had me sit on her face, so she could lick my pussy and taste Nick's jism coming out of me. That left her pussy wide open, her legs spread, and he immediately jumped on top of her and started fucking her more. I was amazed, I didn't care it wasn't my cunt, I raved about his stamina and prowess. "Yeah, Nicky, god, fuck her, fuck her hard, don't stop, mmm you're so hot, Nicky!" I was cumming on Susan's face, more from watching Nick fuck her having just orgasmed inside me. "Yeah, oooh fuck, I'm cumming too!" Somehow, after sliding our bodies around, Nick was fucking Susan doggy-style, and she kept licking my pussy flavored by his orgasm. Then, she and I kissed, tasting the sperm and my pussyjuices mixed together, it was a sexy cocktail, while Nick finger-fucked me and continued to bone Susan's pussy. I ended up underneath Susan a second time, licking Nick's sweaty, hairy balls while he was fucking her twat a couple inches away, and Susan was still licking my cunt. I was having small orgasms, a series of mini-cums, I was so turned on. Nick fucking another woman was making me horny, it seemed he didn't need to have his dick in me, I was just adoring the hot, gorgeous man and wanted him to have the best time ever. So I wound up kissing him, sensuously, lapping tongues and moaning, while he was fucking Susan from the rear. She could have his cock, that was alright with me; I had his attention, I had his kisses on my mouth, his hands on my larger boobs. "Mmm, you like these?" I arched my back, pushing my tits into his face. "Suck 'em, they're nice and big, you like my tits darling?" He did, mouthing them, looking into my face with those seductive brown eyes. "Mmm, yeah, Melissa," he purred, "soo sexy, soo hot." Um -- MELISSA? Did he just call me by the wrong name? Yesss, sirrr, he did! I forced myself to giggle, not reacting the way I really felt. When someone gets your name wrong during sex, do you say something? I got Roger's name wrong during sex, the handyman who was the first guy I cheated with. I had thought that was funny, at the time; but this wasn't funny. I wanted to really impress Nick, I wanted him to love how sexy and horny I was. I wanted him to adore me way more than Susan. And he didn't even know my name! But, I wasn't going to embarrass him, I let it pass. Susan didn't. She laughed out loud. "Baby, her name is Melanie," she purred, looking back at him over her shoulder, biting her lower lip. Nick looked at me, sooo apologetically, eyes heavy with humiliation that he'd gotten my name wrong. I seized the opportunity. "Yeah," I snickered, reaching for his cock that was still inside Susan's twat, "now you owe me." I pulled him out of her, right out of the bitch's cunt, and had him crawl on top of me. As I laid on my back again on the bed, I snickered up to him, "But, if you fuck me like this anytime I want it, you can call me Melanie, Melissa, bitch, whore, mistress, girlfriend -- anything you want!" I was pulling his dick towards my hungry cunt, I wanted more of Nick's meat and I didn't care that I was depriving Susan of it. "Gimme that hot cock, you stud!" The blonde real estate agent didn't seem to mind, she spun around and watched my pussy take Nick's erection, he sank keep into me, I spread so wide and arched my back, the deep fucking was making my nipples throb and ache. I had to pinch them, getting fucked like that. I was so turned on, I didn't have to rub my clit to cum, as usually I do with lesser men like my husband or Jim. I was thrusting against Nick's body and pelvis, feeling that fat cock inside me, looking into his eyes, and cumming relentless, a constant orgasmic state of bliss. We were nearing the hour mark. Nick pulled out, jerking his swollen, slimy erection, pointing it at my large tits. I watched in delight, staring at the fat round head of his cock, it suddenly erupted with sperm. His second orgasm of the day squirted onto my tits and flat, sweaty tummy, splattering all over my breasts, coating them in his hot goo. Susan laughed, bending over to lick up the sperm from me. It turned me on, I was still hot, and her fingers found my cunt. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the feeling, and had a last, huge orgasm from her fingers inside me, and her tongue and lips on my boobies. I had to laugh, hard, that sex was incredible, amazing. I looked up at gorgeous, naked Nick, seeing his cock was still hard. If he didn't have to go, there was no doubt, he could keep fucking. "Mmm," I told him, pointing at his erection, "I wish every man had that cock of yours, its amazing." Susan cackled. "Ain't that the truth." She winked at me, licking her lips clean of the flavors from my tits. "But that's why we cheat on our husbands, right, we can't live without guys like Nick." My eyes caught Nick's at that moment. He was flirting with me, grinning; I winked back at him. I was blushing! He'd just fucked me, and I was lying nude on the bed, mesmerized by his manliness, blushing. The next few minutes were devoid of sex, but I'll never forget them anyway. Susan went to the bathroom to freshen up, then Nick went in when she came back. Getting dressed, I had a short conversation with Susan. She was like, you been cheating on your hubby long? I said only that year, but I was pretty slutty, more than a couple partners. She chuckled, more of a sneer really, and said she sometimes gets that way. When I asked how long she's been messing around, she stunned me. "Eighteen years," she laughed, "that's how long I've been married, and I was cheating on him the first week after the honeymoon. I've got this one boyfriend, Peter, we've been dating 'bout twelve years. I mean, darlin', I can't get enough cock, never could, never will." Wow. I thought, was this me in ten years? Still married, still cheating on my hubby, still trying to spread my legs open for every hot hunk who offered? Will Roger or Michael and I celebrate our tenth anniversary as lovers someday? Damn, that was a haunting thought. Then, I thought, maybe Nick and I could celebrate our 10th anniversary, exactly ten years from that very day. That was a much more pleasant thought. Gee, was there any chance of that happening? Almost answering my question, Nick rejoined us a moment later, putting his tie on. Right in front of Susan he looked at me -- I was in the bra, thong and stockings only at that point -- and just blurted out, "Melanie -- if I have that name right, and if I didn't offend you too much -- any chance you'd wanna meet me again? I can get an hour or two off most days, I make my own hours." Susan didn't seem to mind one of her boyfriends was picking me up in front of her. I blushed again, trying not to make eye contact with her, and forced myself to respond slowly so that I didn't seem desperate. "Well, Nicky -- if I can call you that -- suuuure, why not?" Yeah, I was gonna be a slut for a long while, I realized. But -- fuck that! It's what I wanted to be, as long as I could be with hot studs like Nick! And the black bra and thong? I retired that. It was crusty with Nick's sperm after I got home, mixed with Jim's and Mark's from the previous few days. Instead of washing it, I kept it as a memento in the bottom of my drawer. My husband didn't have to know, but it was sort of a trophy for how hot and sexy I am. Even if my husband doesn't appreciate it! Like I said -- fuck that! Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 11 I'm Melanie. I'm a 30 year old, married slut who cheats on her husband almost daily, if not even more often than that, because he can't come close to satisfying me and I can't possibly get enough cock anyway. This is another entry in my memoirs. At the time I'm writing this, I've got about eight to ten guys who I count as "boyfriends" -- guys I fuck somewhat regularly. I decided to write down how I got here -- the doting, boring suburban housewife to the cheating, cock-loving little bitch that I know I am -- because I know how impressed many guys are with me. I've done some really, ridiculously naughty things. Really depraved, outrageous things. Two years ago, before all this started, I barely even had fantasies about some of the things I've done. I can't get enough attention from hung, sexy men (and hot ladies too!). I want every reader of this to crave me, as much as I crave the men in my life. Don't you want me? My petite 125 pound frame, my long dark hair and slender, triangular face, my hot small ass, my gorgeous C-cup tits. I'm here for you, baby, are you man enough to please me, hmm? So go on, grab your dick (or jam your fingers in your twat), read on and I hope you get off as hard as I have! * * * * (This was an unforgettable day almost exactly one month ago as of the time I'm writing this, early this past May. When I'd thought fucking three guys on the same day was the "best day ever," fuck was I wrong -- how about fucking FOUR MEN AT THE VERY SAME TIME?) I'm a depraved, uncontrollable, probably even disturbed fucking little whore, I was admitting to myself, that's what I love to do most. I'm married but I didn't care. I loved having sex, especially with strangers, and I can never get enough cock. There seemed to be NO limit. That's what I was thinking, finding myself on my knees, wearing nothing but my black Lycra workout shorts. My t-shirt and sports bra had been removed; I was kneeling there, on the rough-carpeted floor of a well-lit storage room, surrounded by FOUR hot, throbbing, smelly erections of some sweaty, studly guys. And I was going to suck and fuck all four of them, right then and there. Was I thinking, this is a horrible idea? I'm married, I needed to get the fuck out of there? I had only met three of them that very day, not even an hour earlier? And I was going to let them stick their dicks in my mouth, cunt and hopefully asshole, squirt their semen into my womb and ass and tummy? I was really going to let them spread me open and use my holes like I was some kind of stupid fucktoy? Yeah, and I couldn't wait, I had NEVER been that horny before, EVER! That kind of event doesn't happen out of nowhere, most women -- married, single, whatever -- probably don't let themselves get taken into the back storage room of the local gym club to get stripped and fucked by four buddies working out together. Obviously, my two years of becoming more and more adventurous, from playing online, to the phone, to the iPhone's video, to in-person hook-ups and seductions, it had transformed me into this lover of sex. But even that, alone, probably wouldn't have gotten me to do what I did that afternoon in the gym's storage room. I'd come to this gym just past lunchtime one afternoon, like I might have done any other day. Although, when I come to this particular gym, running on the treadmill wasn't always my highest priority. I keep my petite body and ass in great shape, eating well, and working out daily if I could. Way back when, I used to do the treadmill every day, but I like the variety of ways to work out at the gym. See, I have two gym memberships. One was the closer place, much larger, more friendly, always crowded. I'd been there the longest. But, I'd started fucking people there. Hector, the 20-something manager, he was tall and fit, always put a smile on my face, we did lunch and drinks a couple of times and ended up in his apartment naked and sweaty after the third time. I fuck him about once a month, or so, he's not the best but I don't mind feeling like a sex goddess when his body is rocking mine. I'd fucked one of the gym's customers too, a really ripped, muscular guy, but that was many weeks ago and hadn't seen him since. When I go to that gym, I feel like a piece of meat, everyone is looking at each other. If I'm horny, that's great. But if I really just want to work out, it's not so great, so I joined a second gym that was farther away, but not as crowded and where I just made myself work out without interacting with the locals. That particular day this early May, I was fucking, insanely horny. It was a week after the unbridled threesome with the married real estate agent, Susan, and her equally married (but not to herself) fuck buddy Nick, the gorgeous wiry little stud who could fuck nonstop. The morning before heading to the gym, Nick texted me and we set a date for the next day, and just thinking that I was going to get Nick's wonderful cock into my bald, shaved vagina was already driving me nuts. Right after scheduling the date, I texted my fuck buddy Michael to tell him about it. Michael, the most craved pervert I'd ever met, of course was delighted to hear it. He said he wanted me to come over to his apartment right after my date with Nick ended, so that Michael could eat out Nick's cum from my vagina. That stoked my fires even more, and I called Michael even though he was at work. He didn't care, he hushed his voice and we practically had phone sex, talking about how horny I was to fuck Nick, and how badly I wanted Michael to stuff his tongue in my married twat and suck out my new boyfriend's sperm. Sitting at my desk at home, naked as usual, I was stuffing fingers in my sloppy, tight vagina, picturing myself having sex with Nick and then with Michael later in the day, if not immediately afterwards. So that was my morning, and by lunchtime, just chatting online or looking for another phone sex partner wasn't going to satisfy me. And part of me was yearning to get laid by a stranger, to go out and find a hot guy I hadn't met before -- that so fucking turns me on, like nothing else. Naturally, I headed to work out at "fuck gym," the big, close by one where I'd gotten laid before. Good choice. As soon as I got in there, the manager there I'd fucked a few times before, Hector, spotted me and came over to say hi. He's always angling to find out when I'd permit him to slip his prick into my bald, shaved slit again. I like teasing him, I was arching my back and showing off my boobies in an ultra-tight t-shirt, and my nipples even poked through it even though I had my black sports bra underneath too. I knew I could take Hector home, or go to his place, but while he was fun he wasn't the hottest guy I'd fucked. Maybe I'd just tease him, I thought, just have some fun soaking his attention, while maybe I could find another guy to screw. Standing around the free-weights area with Hector, wearing my tight Lycra workout shorts and super-tight t-shirt, my stiff nipples making bumps on my tits, I was attracting the attention of other men. A couple of them, buddies, showing off their muscles with the barbells and dumbbells. I pretended not to notice them, but their eyes on my tits and ass were making my even more horny. One was tall and ripped, blonde short hair, his loose tanktop showed the chiseled ripples on his chest and back. His buddy was a little more short and squat but had huge, strong upper arms. Both were around my age, both covered in tattoos, both had that smug attitude like they were gifts to women or something. I was trying not to stare at them, but couldn't help admire their tight butts, big shoulders, and the bulges in their shorts. Like animals smelling meat, they wormed their way into my conversation with Hector. Standing near us, listening, jumping in. I was talking to Hector about beaches and stuff, good places to tan, good vacation places. Next thing you know, I'm this little, petite, 125-pound brunette standing amidst three hot guys. They were all checking me out, but being very polite. Hector was showing off, putting his hand on my shoulders or arm, rubbing his shoulder against me, being very "touchy," like he was signaling to these two hot studs that I was Hector's property, or something. So, my pussy on fire, being the center of that male attention, I was flirting vigorously. Reaching out to touch the guys, you know, like playfully smacking them on the arm or something for being teased. Teasing back. Biting my lip, smiling at them, blushing. Pushing my tits forward, wiggling my body back and forth, showing off the shape of my hot petite package. I can't even remember what we were talking about, and it only happened two weeks ago. It didn't matter. A fourth guy came over by then, older, but he knew Hector and the muscular stud. Terry, was the name of the older guy. The muscular, blonde guy was Johnny, his more bulky but still rugged friend was Victor, I was supposed to call him by his nickname "Gouch." Whatever. Terry, he had a mustache and hairy chest, he was in a sleeveless tank too, I could see the huge bulge in his shorts. His eyes were on my tits almost the entire time, even when he was talking to me. Perv. I was insanely horny. A little show was developing. The subject of working out with the weights came up. I didn't join that conversation but kept standing there with them. Someone, I don't recall whom, said I should try some free weights. I begged off, no not my thing, but I had four men encouraging me to try, they were going to help me. "Not that you need it," someone said. Like a little girl, I let myself get led to a bench, where they had me lie on my back and do some lifts with just the dumbbell -- no weights on it -- over my head and to the sides. See, on my back, in my tight clothing, they could check out my crotch and body as I lay on my back on the bench. As I did the lifts, my back arched, my tits were even more pushed forward. I knew what they were doing, I was allowing myself to be shown off that way. Then, of course, there were more exercises, kneeling in front of the bench on the floor, reaching over it to do the lifts. That pushed my hot ass backwards, and I had eight male eyeballs glued to the sight of my tight, small fanny, its curves visibly revealed by my skin-tight Lycra shorts. I stuck it out, I know they were all looking. Not that we were the only five people in the gym, the place was fucking crowded. But no one was disturbing us. I'm positive a lot of people were watching us, probably thinking, what's that slut doing with those four guys. What a bitch she is, showing off her body in front of them. Most of the women there, they were probably mocking and scolding me under their breaths, but were jealous as shit. None had my great body, none were as pretty or hot as I was, none could have kept the attention of those four studs. The males in the place, probably wanted my attention on them, not these four jocks. My wedding ring was getting slippery, my fingers were sweating. I made a comment about it, getting a rush at reminding Hector and telling the three other guys that I was, indeed, married. I was teasing them, showing off, flaunting that I could get their attention when I wasn't supposed to be doing it. My head was thinking, how hot would it be to get a date with one of these guys. Not Hector, he wasn't as sexy as any of the other three, and I'd fucked him before anyway. How about Johnny, he was the hottest. Gouch was pretty good. Even Terry, although older, looked like a ton of masculine fun in bed. All strangers. Man, I wanted to get laid by each of them. I was thinking, how slutty would it look, asking for each of their numbers? How could I let them know, I was available to anyone who wanted me for a date -- as long as the date didn't involve clothing? I mean, in my horny state, thoroughly aroused, that's all I was thinking about. More hot sex with strangers, even better than the threesome with Susan and Nick. So, pointing at my wedding ring, the hottest of them, Johnny, goes, "Man, if you were my wife, I don't know if I'd let you go to the gym looking as good as you do -- all sorts of animals like Gouch would be all over you." Animals, yes, that's what I thought they were, and so was I, I guess. Hector, knowing that I cheated on my husband because, at least, he'd gotten to fuck me, laughed and said something like, "Oh I don't know if you know the half of it," something like that. Hector was pressed for details, and while I smacked him with a laugh, he was a gentleman and said he was only kidding. But then he gave a wink or something to the other men, some kind of signal only guys know, and the horse was out of that barn. All of a sudden, the guys were looking at me differently, eyeing me up with a hunger in their stares, I had three strangers realizing I was a hot bitch who loved cock. And, of course, that made me even HOTTER! We kept talking a while after that, maybe ten minutes or something, but things were different. The guys were all about me, asking about my life, what I did, what my pastimes were. I was coy, a coquette, teasing them mercilessly, not really directly answering them. I was feeling hunted, like a feeble female in the crosshairs of horny hunters; but I felt empowered too, alive, female, knowing I controlled all of them. I could walk away, leaving them hard and frustrated, or I could give them smiles they'd be wearing all day. I had that power, so yeah, who here was really the one in control? Makes me feel so fucking good, having that power over men. Stupid, horny, sexy men. I was pretending to like using the dumbbells for toning exercises. I should get some, I commented without really meaning it, one of those things you just say. Hector said, I might have a pair in the back, I'll just give them to you -- someone left them here, he's storing them. If I come back to the storage room with him, he'd get them for me. Oh, this place has a storage room? Yeah, in the back, behind the whatever, around the whatever. Hmm, maybe I should get them. That's how the conversation went. I looked at all three other guys, blushing, wanting to be cute, but wanting to be sexy too. Terry, the older guys, just goes, "You need our help getting them from the storage room? Could be tough, they might be heavy." "Oh, I can work things heavier than me," I said to him, slutty, staring him in the eye and turning up a corner of my mouth, arching my back more to emphasize the tits on my narrow chest. Terry was playing along. "Yeah, you like working six to eight inch long, stiff hard shafts, they give you a good workout?" "Oh yeah, they do." "Maybe we should come back to the storage room with you, and show you some more exercises with hard stiff shafts." I couldn't believe he was saying it, nor could the four guys, but it was happening. I shrugged, wanting so desperate to be a slut, wanting to live a fantasy I'd had but never imagined would come true. I was going for it. Fuck that, right? I spoke quietly and confidently, just loud enough so no one else could hear us, but with the tone of a whore who knew what she wanted. Hunting them. "Hmm, anyone else wanna come back to the storage room with us, and show me how to use a hard stiff shaft?" Fuck, did I say that? Yup! Two minutes later, I was entering the storage room from a quiet, interior access hallway, surrounded by the four men, all of us looking for a place to escape so they could enjoy me -- like animals. As soon as Hector had the room opened and lights on, we scurried in, and he locked it from the inside. There was a workout bench, much like the one in the free-weight section, plus rows and rows of shelves, and cardboard boxes, and treadmills stacked on each other. Crowded, but large and roomy, there was plenty of space in the middle for a bunch of people to stand around, or you know, do whatever. Plus, the floor was carpeted; it was an industrial carpeting, not really comfortable, but better than cold tile. There, I was used. I loved it. The four descended around me, Hector standing back a bit, but the other three going for it. Someone kissed me, it was Terry, he of the mustache. Hands were pawing at my tits and ass through my clothing; my hands were groping two solid male shafts inside sweaty workout shorts. My mouth was being passed guy to guy, I was kissing three or four men, I couldn't really tell, I was so horny. I felt the hands clawing at my vagina through my shorts, making my slender hips undulate, rubbing against them, getting masturbated solidly. My tits were being explored by hands too, and my clothing was being pushed up, so my boobs were nude, manhandled by large, firm adult hands. I was about to have an orgasm in my clothing, just from the kissing and clutching. Then I was being pushed to my knees, my t-shirt and bra ripped off, leaving me topless, finding myself on my knees surrounded by four handsome, sweaty, hunky men. And their cocks. Shorts were pushed down; four large, throbbing, smelly, meaty boners were pointing at me, just for me, so hard for me. So hard for the married slut on the floor. "Ooh yeah," I slurred, examining those four pricks, holding two of them while staring at the others, "my husband doesn't have anything like these gorgeous dicks!" Suddenly, one was shoved in my mouth. I whimpered, taking it, letting my mouth get used. Hands were in my long hair, gripping my ponytail, using it to move my skull around. I stroked two cocks, sucked one, had a fourth rubbing against the side of my face. Those hands yanked my head back, another prick was fed to my mouth, I started slurping on it while jerking off the one I'd just left wet and slimy with my saliva. Around and around my mouth was passed, sucking those huge cocks. I looked up at the guys, they were now nude, all so horny for me, shoving their hips into my face, offering me their cocks and balls. All four men were so different and yet so sexy; here I was, a married slut, making each of them so hard. I loved the attention. All I could smell was COCK; nasty, musky, naked cock. I felt those throbbing peckers rubbing against my petite face, against my neck; I was getting them, one after another, shoved into my mouth, into the back of my throat, some cockheads even entering my throat a little time to time. They were getting so aroused, the guys were jerking themselves off if I wasn't sucking them. Three guys jerking, one guy fucking my mouth, the men alternating who got to mouth-fuck me. I was out of control, moaning and slurping, loving it, making sexy sounds as I devoured those pricks one after the other. I looked up at them, letting them know I loved it, sucking those beautiful pricks time after time. But I wasn't there to just suck them and get my face covered in cum. Laughing, sitting back on my heels, I looked up at them and moaned, "Can I convince anyone to fuck a married pussy?" Well, instantly the four nude men went to work, removing my shorts and thong, lifting my little body onto the bench -- then, realizing it was too small to serve as a bed, putting me on my back on the floor. There I was, spread open, naked, exposing my entire body to three men I'd never met before, plus a fourth guy I didn't like all that much. Pulling my knees back, seeing the oldest guy, Terry with the mustache, moving on top of me, I cried out, "Come take my married cunt, baby, I need cock so bad!" He was almost drooling, his handsome, stern face above my body, moving his seven-inch erection to my gaping open, sloppy-wet vagina. "I got what you want, babydoll," he coarsely laughed at me, "don't tell your husband how good you good fucked, okay?" What confidence, what bravado. I loved it! I gripped Terry's sexy, athletic ass, pulling the 40-something year old towards me underneath him, making his cock touch my vagina. I grunted, he grunted, and now we were fucking. I was getting laid by a complete stranger from the gym! Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 11 Terry took his turn above me, so aroused that he didn't need a lot of fucking to cum. He pulled out, maybe five minutes later or less even, squirting his jism in streams onto my petite, perspiring body. Some of the cream splattered on my big tits; most of it pooled on my flat tummy, mixing with my beads of sweat there. "Yeah, baby, give it to me!" I screamed at him, watching him pump his shaft, covering my abdomen in semen. It was gooey, hot, so sexy, I got him to cum so hard. As soon as the older fuck released his load from me, the other men were clamoring to replace him -- and encouraging me to keep going. "Here's the next one for you, bitch," said someone; another said, "Play two, baby, play two." I felt Terry withdraw his steely-hard penis from my gooey vagina, and he crawled off of me. Immediately Gouch, the thick, powerful stud was on top of me, touching his penis to my married cunt. Gouch's buddy Johnny was on his knees next to me at my side, pulling my knees back to help me expose myself to Gouch's cock. I yelped as Gouch's thick erection dipped into my sloppy-wet pussy, and with a loud shove he smashed his body forward and squeezed over half of his dick inside my twat. Almost at the same time, Johnny leaned down, putting his cockhead against my face, and I turned to look at it. I was now swallowing that prick, feeling Johnny poking his cockhead against the back of my tongue, while his friend Gouch was fucking me between my thighs. "Look at the bitch," I heard Hector mutter, "she sure can fuck!" My jaw opened and cheek stretched out from the cock in my mouth, I looked across the room at naked Hector, winking at him, feeling like a goddess. I hardly had to move, the men were doing all the work fucking me. Gouch leaned forward on his straight-out arms, his fists on the carpeting on my sides, keeping the pressure on my lower body and smashing his hips back and forth. I felt the rigid size of his erection plowing my vagina, in and out, I could feel him fucking me, his sweaty, hairy balls sometimes glancing on my small, sweaty buttocks. Meanwhile my face was full of Johnny -- his cock was stuffed in my mouth, his flat abdomen right above my eyes, all I could see and smell was a Man. Johnny was groaning as I sucked his cock noisily, getting my saliva all over it, feeling him poke around inside my mouth, pushing back my cheeks, almost fucking my throat but not quite. Gouch was working me faster now, my body was feeling used, the coarse carpeting under my back and butt starting to burn a little. More attention came to me. Hector was on his knees on my other side, reaching out to manhandle my big boobs, groping and squeezing them. I reached a hand out to his crotch, finding his erection nicely wettened with precum and my saliva, and I began holding and stroking it while sucking Johnny and fucking Gouch. I could feel another set of hands on my other leg, that must have been Terry, I was being spread open wide so Gouch could keep fucking me as deep as his cock could reach. "I wanna fuckin' cum all over her face," the bastard fucking me muttered, panting, his meaty body as sweating, drips pouring over the tattoos on his shoulders and chest. Johnny pulled his cock out of my mouth, allowing me to look up at the stud fucking me, my eyes half-closed and my jaw trembling from the deep pressure inside my body where Gouch's long cock was reaching. Gouch was staring at my face in a trance, just watching me look at him as we fucked, for a moment I was hardly aware of anyone else in the room. His thrusts went deeper each time, holding inside me, he was building to his climax. Deeper he screwed me; then back out quickly, and inside again, farther, farther, each time thrusting more, holding it longer. "Uh, fuck yes!" he moaned, about to spew. "Do it, baby," I shouted to him, coughing, my mouth full of saliva and precum, "fuck me, cum on me!" The other men roared in approval, just as Gouch pulled out of my wet pussy, grabbing his own sloppy-wet dick in his fist and crawling over me to point his cockhead at my face. I looked up at his eyes briefly, he was staring down at me, then I turned my attention to his pecker. I held my breath, opening my mouth, sticking out my tongue. But he wasn't aiming for my mouth. With a guffaw, Gouch started to orgasm, streams of white-hot sticky goo came shooting out of his penis all over my face. All over. The first shots streaked above my forehead, onto my hair, even on the floor; the next few plentiful blobs of sperm splattered on my forehead and cheeks, one large dollop coating my eye and forcing me to close that eyelid; more and more semen came pouring out, streaming on my small, triangular face. "Look at the whore," Hector laughed, "fuckin' covered like a cumslut." This was pure, animal fucking, I was thoroughly enjoying it. Now it was Johnny's turn, and he wanted me on my back too. There I remained, pressed into the rough carpeting, my sore legs held open by Terry on one side and Hector on the other, as Johnny inserted his amazing, wonderful penis into me. His body was fit, muscular in the arms and shoulders, a long snake tattoo slithered down his belly towards his crotch, it was like an arrow pointing to his wonderful tool. My pussy, already stretched out by the other two men, seemed even more tight around his cock, and when he started to thrust his bulbous cockhead past my G-spot I shrieked to a hard, body-shaking orgasm. Clenching my eyes shut more, the cum still caked over my face, I panted and yelped while my loins burned and limbs ached, a huge climax electrically spilling throughout my body. I felt that cock so deep in me, the handsome, sexy man fucking me, and my orgasm made me pant and beg afterwards for more. "Yes, ohhh fuck yesss," I hissed, half-opening one eye, "fuck me you stud, fuck this married slut!" Johnny didn't last long for his first orgasm, screwing me brutally on top of me while staring at my cum-covered face. Just about the time I was getting into the rhythm of our sex, Johnny yanked his dick out of my pussy and grabbed it, jerking it, pointing at my big, sweaty tits. I arched my back, watching him straddle my chest, lowering himself, tit-fucking me. With pleasure I wrapped my boobs around his meat, feeling the hot, burning solid shaft on my soft, squishy orbs. Johnny was still jerking himself, rubbing his cockhead around my nipples and breasts, as he neared his cum. He leaned up and backwards, aiming for my chest, and suddenly he was ejaculating. His steamy, sticky jism splattered all over my breasts and chest plate, covering my skin in that warm babymaking sauce. My hands, still cupping my breasts, caressed my skin and smothered that sperm all over myself, giving myself a body wash in the male cum. I'd fucked three of them, only Hector to go, and I'd fucked him before. Hector didn't want to be on top of me, he wanted me doggy-style. I was going to roll over onto my knees, but someone realized the rug was going to give me burns. A small plastic, squishy mat was slipped underneath me, and it was a godsend, my knees felt just fine resting on the padded surface. In position, I stuck my little ass up at Hector, spreading my slender legs, looking around at him with Gouch's cum still dripping down my face. "You gonna fuck me now too, baby?" I purred, wiggling my hot ass at him. "Let me feel that hot cock in me!" "Fuckin' tramp," snorted Hector, moving his fat erection towards my pussy, his hands reaching out to hold my slender hips in place. "Oh fuck, YES!" I screamed when he invaded my sore vagina with his penis. I put my head up, arching my back down, the warm cum on my breasts feeling a breeze of cool air on them. Hector held my hips firmly, not allowing me to shake much, as he pushed his penis into my cunt from the backside. I felt his balls brush my clitoris, he was all the way inside, my small buttocks firmly grinding into his flat abdomen now. The other three men watched me fuck Hector doggy-style a few minutes, but at least two of the three were ready to keep fucking again. Terry knelt in front of me, offering his dick to my face, and of course I bent my head down and took his erection in my mouth. It tasted salty and musky from fucking me, I was licking clean the flavors of our sex. While Hector continued to pound my little body from the rear, Terry held my tangled long dark hair in one firm fist, guiding my tight lips and wet tongue over his erection, from the soft round cockhead to the fat shaft, even making me go down and suckle his salty, hairy balls a little bit, before going back to suck his penis's shaft as deep as I could. Sucking and fucking two cocks at once, I let out a little giggle. My husband had no idea what I was capable of in bed. I could please four hot studs at once; how many women can claim this skill? Melanie is one hot fucking sex goddess, I realized. I loved myself. "Suck my cock, princess," Terry gasped at me, pushing hair off my face where sperm had been gluing it to my forehead, "you look so good, you know that?" He held my skull tight, pushing penis into my throat a little, making me gag. I didn't mind, I'd done it with other men, I'm just not good at it yet. Fortunately Terry didn't have the biggest dick ever, I could take most of his shaft into my mouth and a little in my throat a bit, coughing as he pulled out, but coating his cockhead in a thick, warm slime of clear mucus from my throat, making it easier to suck him with my mouth. Behind me, Hector was panting, smashing his erection into my vagina over and over, watching my ass as he screwed me. "Yeah, you hot slut, oh yeah," he kept mumbling, "like that, you bitch, like that big dick in you?" Hector was attempting to show off, trying to fuck me at a steady pace and keep the sex going as long as he could, but he was too aroused to do it long. I heard his little moans as he resisted the temptation to cum; but, with my hot body under him, my gorgeous small ass against his abdomen, and the sounds of me sucking Terry's penis, Hector couldn't stand it. He lost his control, spewing his jism into my vagina where it mixed with Terry's cum from a few minutes earlier, flooding me with yet more dickjuice. When he pulled out, I remained there on my fours, knees parted, cum drooling out of my bald, shaved vagina and dripping down my slender thighs, while I kept sucking Terry's gorgeous dick. The men were talking now, plotting, pointing at who was going to do what next. It was decided for me. Someone -- I don't know who -- slipped underneath me, while I continued to suck Terry's dick, with Terry's body the only thing I could see. Behind me, someone else was kneeling. I felt two cocks against my body, it was like the night I fucked Brad and Tommy together after picking them up at a bar. I was about to be double-penetrated. Spreading my knees a bit more, I lowered myself onto the naked male underneath me, feeling his erection pushing into my cunt. I moaned around Terry's dick as it happened, feeling myself stretched out, it was a big boner, maybe Johnny's, even though he just cummed. A few moments later the second dick touched my anus, my small buttocks were pried apart by thick, firm male fingers, exposing my little anus. The second stud shoved forward and I felt myself ripped open, two hard shafts now inside my body, rubbing together through thin walls of flesh, both my cunt and my ass getting fucked by horny dicks. Plus the third one in my mouth. I had an orgasm, I couldn't believe it was happening, I had cocks in every hole. All three. I'd never even fantasized about that before; this was, literally, behind my wildest dreams. The three men were yelling at each other, but I could hardly make out any sounds, my ears were flooded with a roaring, rushing noise. I was feeling light-headed, and every limb in my body ached. My pussy was stretched so wide, my asshole even more so, and my little body could feel itself being filled by those two big, hard peckers inside my two lower holes. Terry continued to push his cock against the back of my mouth, entering my throat time to time, my eyes were now sealed shut from cum and sweat. Hands were all over me, clutching my tits, groping them, almost painfully, my ass was being squeezed, I felt my long, dark hair yanked and tugged, pulled, twisted. The three studs fucking me were using me, getting off on me, not caring I was married, just feeling good about themselves stuffing their almighty pricks into a hot, sexy bitch -- me! They wanted to change positions. The cocks withdrew from my cunt and butt, then Terry pulled away from my face. I gasped hard, sucking in the cool, air-conditioned air, coughing a little, trying to soften the burning sensation in my narrow throat. Terry slid underneath me, making me ride his hot cock, sliding it back inside my twat. I turned around, and saw Johnny with his big prick moving to fuck my ass, I wasn't sure if he had been doing that or if Gouch had been. But, fuck, it was all just tight -- when Johnny pushed his penis into my butthole, Terry already inside my vagina, I could only feel thick pole in me, they all felt the same. Great, but the same. I screamed, panting, gripping the edges of the mat underneath me, holding myself in position while the two hot men began fucking my two holes again. Hector was in front of my face now, his erection fully recharged, pulsatingly hard. The Latino pervert yanked my head up, his hand clutching a fistful of my long hair, jerking my head around, while holding his dick in his other hand. He smacked my face a few times, a couple of times hard, banging that pole against my skin, splattering sweat and cum around my face. "You want more dick, bitch?" he swore at me, laughing, "you like all this cock, I bet your husband doesn't give it to you this good, no?" Terry, snickering at the thought, laughed underneath me. "Fuckin' no guy can give it to her like this," he pointed out. Hector forced my mouth down, making me swallow his messy-wet cock, slurping it while Terry and Johnny boned by cunt and ass. My whole body felt limp, but I couldn't move away, every muscle was sore and tired, my pussylips were aching from being stretched out, my ass wanted to explode from the penis drilling it. Hector had such tight grip on my skull and hair, my mouth was sliding back and forth on his erection only because he was moving my head and his hips back and forth, pushing that swollen dick inside my face. I could barely open my eyelids now, looking up at him, my face streamed and covered in sperm and sweat, and even some tears. Johnny eventually pulled out of my ass, without cumming, and Terry had me sit upright on him, riding him. It made me gasp, my body was so sore, but I forced my legs open to the sides, my knees sticking out pointing left and right, while I squatted my small nude body onto Terry's firm, older physique. Sitting upright now, sinking down, my pussy swallowed the massive length of Terry's dick easily, I was so loose and wet. Hector was standing next to me, grabbing my hair again, turning my face sideways to suck his pole. I did what he wanted. Suddenly someone else was standing next to me, it was Gouch, rubbing his dick against my face from the other side. Hector turned my head, I moved my lips from Hector's penis to Gouch's fat dong, sucking it deep while looking up at the stud diffidently, submissively. I was being used like a toy, fucked without remorse, the men entertaining each other as much as themselves individually. "Fuck the nasty bitch," Hector spat at me while I sucked Gouch's cock, then Gouch agreed with a slurred voice, "All married whores should get it this good." Someone, Hector I think, had a nasty idea to move me to a small bench, used for the bench press. I was laid on my back on the small, cool bench, at the edge so my head dangled off of it. I didn't understand why, but then Hector was kneeling in front of my face, and I was looking at him upside down. My forehead fell all the way back, towards the floor, so with my skull upside-down, my mouth could open and present a straight path back to my throat. Meanwhile, my small legs dangled to the sides, unable to move, held up by the other men while Terry mounted me again, leaning over me and straddling the bench to insert his long cock back inside my wet, sore twat. "Uhgggh!" I coughed, feeling Terry and Hector in unison impaling me with their poles. Terry's cock jammed into my cunt, and at that moment Hector was gripping my skull in both hands to thrust his cock inside my mouth. He wasn't stopping. Hector's fat cock pushed into my throat, gagging me, into my neck; I felt an instinctive reflex, my body wanted to choke on it, but I was able to keep him in my throat a few moments while he felt how deep he could go. The fire from my cunt getting wonderfully fucked by Terry was actually nothing to the feeling of Hector in my throat; the burning, the choking, the fear almost, not being able to breath, my throat invaded by that fat cock. But I laid back on the bench, bent backwards, spread open, taking those two dicks as much as they wanted to fuck me. Perverted Hector pulled out, jerking his meat, and suddenly my face was being covered in sperm again. Hector ejaculated all over my face, and with me upside down, gravity pulled down the oozing semen to drip into my nostrils, and streak down over my eyelids onto my forehead. Terry was still fucking me, I felt the other men holding my legs open, groping my big tits while Terry used my cunt for his pleasure. I snorted, trying to force the cum out of my nose with just heavy breathing, coughing too, my mouth filled with cum and mucus. When Hector backed away from my face, I forced my neck to activate, lifting my head up, watching Terry fucking me. I stared at his rock-solid, firm body above me, naked, thrusting his red-hot penis into my bald, wet cunt, my tits bounding around in Gouch's and Johnny's hands while Terry gazed upon the bitch underneath him. I felt so sexy, I loved how I was making Terry fuck me. "Fuck me," I panted at him, barely able to talk, my tongue sore and my throat to hoarse, "fuck me!" I wanted to show these men how sexy I was, how I could take their cocks over and over, the hottest bitch any of them had ever fucked I bet. Terry reached both hands down, grasping my big tits hard, squeezing them like handles, while he forced his dick all the way into my cunt. ALL the way. I felt his balls against my asscheeks, the base of his penis was right against my clitoris, I felt my little body wanted to explode from the penis stuffed deep inside me. I yelled, cumming hard, orgasming around that big cock. Terry must have felt it, he was there too, and suddenly he was having his second orgasm, ejaculating into my vagina as deep as he could shoot his wad. Then it was Johnny's turn, fucking me still on the bench. It was such a small bench, I would have fallen off of it if not for the men holding me in place, the guys were stretching my legs to the sides holding them, and my tits were always in someone's hands. Johnny with his awesome, tattoo-covered body leaned over me where Terry had just been, sliding his prick into my vagina again, snickering down at me. "You sure can take cock, baby," he praised me, smiling warmly, watching his erection disappear into my vagina. "Yes!" I was panting hard, having difficulty breathing from the liquids in my nose and mouth, and how my throat hurt. "Yes, give it to me, fuck me baby!" The blonde-haired stud with the ripped chest didn't like me on the bench, however, so he lifted me up -- not removing his penis from my vagina -- and laid me down again on the small workout mat, letting me rest my legs open and flat, fucking me deeply. Staring at his manly, sexy body, covered in the sweat, I put my little hands on his muscular shoulders and held on for the ride. I was being bent backwards, my ass off of the mat, Johnny's huge cock was driving so deep into my cunt and stretching me open. Filled with cum from the male orgasms I was sloppy wet, Johnny's penis was making noises fucking me, as it penetrated in and pulled out. Squish squish, squish squish. Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 11 I felt another orgasm cumming, seeing how hot Johnny was, and feeling that amazing dick inside my cunt. "Ohh, yeah -- give it to me, make me cum you hot stud, fuck me baby!" I screamed, cumming as promised, getting dizzy and light-headed while the waves and waves of pleasure squirted through my body, making me tremble and quake around the dick deep inside me. Johnny kept fucking me that way a little while, then Gouch wanted some action. I looked up, noticed Hector was getting dressed -- he was, after all still "on duty" at the gym, although he'd been in here with us who knows how long. He looked sheepishly, like he didn't want to leave but didn't have a choice; but, I know from fucking him in the past, he didn't have great stamina, and after two hard orgasms I doubted he could get it up again anyway. Having to leave for work was an excuse. So he wasn't looking pathetic because he had to work; he was pouting because he knew, deep down inside, he wasn't the man that these other three studs were. "Yeah, buddy, say hi to the missus for me," laughed naked Gouch, giving dressed Hector a high-five as the naked one started to head over to Johnny and me. (Hector wasn't married, but, who cared.) I didn't pay attention to Hector anymore, he was gone from the room the next time I looked up. Instead, the men were lifting me up off the mat again, and Gouch took my place lying on it. On his back, his meaty cock pulsating on his lap. Terry and Johnny lowered my nude body downward, placing my ass near Gouch's hips so I was sitting on him. Then, lying backwards, spread open, the guys moved my asshole near Gouch's prick. I arched my back, staring down past my tits at his crotch, and felt his cockhead at the entrance to my ass. He was going to fuck my ass, I held my breath, winced, and the three men pushed my body forward so it happened. Gouch's cockhead pushed into my butthole. "Fuck," I panted, my eyes closed, feeling the pain of my butt being penetrated again, "yeah, fuck my ass, baby!" I had to adjust my position, I leaned back, my hands behind me on the mat, my body aching I was in such pain, but I forced my hips forward to sink more of Gouch's prick into my butt. With my legs spread open, lying backwards on top of Gouch, I found myself looking up at nude Johnny and his sexy erection, standing over me. The two buddies were going to DP me again, Johnny back inside my pussy. Johnny leaned down, rubbed his cock against my cunthole, and sank inside. I whimpered without much energy left, almost sobbing, feeling two hard pricks inside my two holes again. Johnny was complementing me, soothing me, while he fucked me with his friend. "You're so sexy, sweetie, I can't believe you can fuck this good," sneered the horny pervert, "you're like the hottest bitch I've ever me, how can you fuck this good, you a porn star or something?" I laughed at the man fucking my cunt. "No -- I'm married!" I laughed again, it made sense to me. "I should date married women more," giggled back my fuck buddy. Johnny leaned over me, staring at me intensely while his body was stiff, legs opened, pushing his ass back and forth, humping my cunt. I felt those two dicks rubbing against each other inside me, pressing my ass and cunts together almost, screwing me in unison. I screamed and had another mini-orgasm. I was so turned on, I was going to cum repeatedly, over and over, it was mesmerizing, I'd never been this turned on before in my life. Johnny had his second cum in my pussy, then Terry -- already set to fuck me again -- took his place, feeling Gouch's cock still inside my ass. I was cumming and cumming, crying, panting, just clutching male skin or the thin, coarse carpet to steady myself, concentrating on the feeling of that dick in my cunt and the other in my butthole. I could hardly notice, or care, who was fucking me, I just loved the feeling. All that sperm in me, too; it was washing over my asscheeks and thighs, I was a mess, getting fucked like that. I don't know if Terry had a third orgasm inside me, he might have. He pulled out, and Gouch pushed me off of him and slammed my carcass onto the mat on my tummy. Then the meaty, studly fucker pulled me to my knees, entering my cunt from the rear doggy-style, fucking my mostly limp figure until he was ready to cum too. Gouch squirted his final orgasm into my twat while in the doggy position. But -- I wasn't done. Johnny wanted one more round. He was on top of me, screwing my vagina beautifully, filling me as deep as he could and then ejaculating whatever spermies he had left from his fat balls. There I was, nude, in the middle of that cold, windowless storage room, on a plastic mat; cum on my face, drying on my tits, spilling out of my well-fucked cunt, my asshole gaping open from being fucked. Coughing, hardly able to breath, cum still in my nostrils. My hair was completely tangled, messy with sperm and sweat. I was surrounded by three hung, sexy studs, all of them drained of sperm because I'm a hot bitch. Married, yes, but gorgeous, with a hot ass, big tits, and sweet pussy. I can fuck anyone I wanted, and make them have an awesome time, even three or four at once! It made me laugh, out loud, even though no one knew why I was laughing. I didn't care. Fuck that! The feeling like I was Superwoman stayed with me, even though I could hardly move. Eventually the men got me dressed, they were very sweet and friendly. Terry had his cellphone, I gave him my number as did the other two men, and Terry immediately texted to the other men my number, and me all three of their numbers. I'd get to fuck any of them again, individually or together, whatever I wanted. It was definitely going to happen. I had three new fuckbuddies. Then, I mopped myself off with a dirty towel in the storage room and headed for the women's locker room. I didn't care how I looked, I felt divine. Other women saw me, no one said anything -- except this one, older, fat bitch who had a locker near me. I was stripping nude again, messy, to head for a quick shower, when she looked at me and scowled, "What happened to you?" My reaction? I didn't care, I could fuck four studs, she probably couldn't get those men to look at her. I didn't even pay attention to her, she was beneath me. I went into the shower, cleaned off briefly -- my hair would be a multi-hour event, I knew, I just rinsed it quickly -- and headed back to the locker room to go home. As I headed down the hallway to the front door, the floor manager -- a thin, young, mean-looking female -- was standing there with a clipboard, watching me, almost eyeing me. She didn't say anything, but she was staring at me. I didn't make eye contact, I assumed she knew something, I had that assumption everyone in the place knew what I'd done. (She did know; she later fired Hector for it.) As I passed her, I said something brash like, "You got a fun place here," or something like that, giggling to myself. I had the sperm of four men inside me, what did I care what she thought of it? When I got home, barely able to walk up the steps and turn the key, I surprised myself as I collapsed on my sofa (the closest, soft place near our front door). I was laughing, in part at the pain of my aching cunt and burning limbs, but also at what I had just done. Feel guilty? Fuck that, I wasn't guilty at all. I was a 30-year-old housewife, and I'd just seduced and fucked FOUR studs at the gym. Every one of them wanted to go on dates with me now. I had done what other women only dream about, but dare never attempt. Yeah, not only was I a hot bitch for sexy men, but I had more guts than 99.9% of women too. I'm a fucking sex super heroine! Super Melanie! I wanted to relive the day, as sore as I was. I forced myself to walk into the den, where I logged online to see whom I could tell. No, I didn't want to type it. I called my fuckbuddy Michael, but he was in meetings, I think with his lawyer about his divorce. I called my best friend from college, Belinda, who's been divorced twice and knew what a slut I'd become. She wasn't home, leave a message, fuck! I frowned, I just wanted to tell someone what a hot whore I was! I'd been like a porn star, I realized, fucking four men like that. Shit, I could do it, I have a pretty face, a great body, firm and big real tits, and I could entertain four hard pricks all by myself. Funny that, I suddenly realized, a porn star huh? But that's another story. Undressing from my sweaty gym clothing, I stripped nude then sat on the edge of my marital bed, facing the mirror on the back of a closet door, spreading my legs and admiring the mess. Gooey clear liquids were oozing from my used married cunt, covering my red-swollen pussylips, all around my asshole and thighs. My hair was fucking tangled, used like handles by my four studs. Shit, I was a glorious mess, this is what a whore looks like after fucking four strangers in a storage room! I loved it, I blew myself a kiss in the mirror. What a slut I was, what a skank, so gorgeous and fuckable, and well-fucked! And I noticed my wedding ring on my finger, covered in dried cum. It had been there all along, I just ignored it. I fucked four men, three who were total strangers, while wearing it. Now it was covered in their sperm. One would wonder what my husband would think about all that? If you know me well, you know what my reaction was to that thought: Fuck that! Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 12 I'm Melanie. I'm a 30 year old, married slut who cheats on her husband almost daily, if not even more often than that, because he can't come close to satisfying me and I can't possibly get enough cock anyway. This is another entry in my memoirs. At the time I'm writing this, I've got about eight to ten guys who I count as "boyfriends" -- guys I fuck somewhat regularly. I decided to write down how I got here -- the doting, boring suburban housewife to the cheating, cock-loving little bitch that I know I am -- because I know how impressed many guys are with me. I've done some really, ridiculously naughty things. Really depraved, outrageous things. Two years ago, before all this started, I barely even had fantasies about some of the things I've done. I can't get enough attention from hung, sexy men (and hot ladies too!). I want every reader of this to crave me, as much as I crave the men in my life. Don't you want me? My petite 125 pound frame, my long dark hair and slender, triangular face, my hot small ass, my gorgeous C-cup tits. I'm here for you, baby, are you man enough to please me, hmm? So go on, grab your dick (or jam your fingers in your twat), read on and I hope you get off as hard as I have! * * * * My future was decided yesterday, the day before I wrote these memoirs, a cool, rainy day in the first week of June. I mean, I didn't make a formal decision about my future, but I made a choice that puts me on a pretty obvious path. One that was so improper, but felt so comfortable. My hand grabbed the door handle of my new car, but I didn't move it. Not yet Sitting in the driver's seat of my brand-new convertible, with raindrops softly tapping the rag rooftop and windshield, I paused. Froze, maybe, is a better word. I sat in that little sports car and had to make a choice about myself. I was in the mostly-deserted parking lot of an small, two-story commercial building isolated on an otherwise undeveloped, wooded landscape backed to the ocean. I'd been here once before, about three weeks ago, but for a far less momentous event. Today was a real turning point in my life, should I get out of the car and walk into that building. It was the headquarters of an "amateur" porn website. I won't give the name here, but it's one that you've probably seen if you do a lot of online porn surfing. Pictures and movies, basically. They have a specialty, I guess you'd call it that, for married women. Women like me, horny for attention and cock. Totally regular women contact them, come over to get photographed and recorded while getting nude, sucking and fucking huge swollen cocks, filling themselves or getting covered in sperm from men they don't know, while their husbands are back home. Some might have approved of it, wanting wives who fuck around and are sex goddesses. Others, like my husband, wouldn't have a fucking clue. I set up and went to an "interview" about three weeks earlier, just a couple days after fucking four (!) strangers in the storage room of the gym where I work out. Yeah, letting myself gets screwed and used by four muscular, sweaty studs had made me realize not only did I love to fuck, but I was fucking good at it. Really good. No reason I shouldn't make some money on the side, if I could, getting paid to have sex while it's recorded. So I contacted this porn company, and they said, come on by for an interview. They wanted to see if I was for real, if I had the looks and body to turn on men, and if I had the guts to do it. For that interview, I sat in a small office with the place's owner, his wife (who was the first model on the website, which was after they were married), a young but unattractive female aide, and a female photographer who was a hot-as-fuck blonde. When they interviewed me for a half hour and concluded I was a for-real married woman interested in appearing on their website, they took me into a studio and photographed me stripping. I got nude in front of the guy and the three women. It wasn't difficult, I wasn't nervous; I was actually horny as fuck, and finger-fucked myself to orgasm in front of the four of them. They were all complementing how hot my body was, how I was so pretty and sexy and was a great model for them. Come back in a few weeks, they said, they'd have a "shoot" of me with one of their male models. A muscular, fit, hunky black guy with a solid 9-inch prick, by far the biggest I'd have ever fucked. It would take about an hour or two, not including "prep" time (makeup, etc.), and if it went well I'd end up with loads of sperm all over my body, a very achy used cunt, a few hundred bucks (in cash!) for the session, and a few pages on their website showing the entire planet what a fucking slut this married whore was that afternoon. They were even going to use my name and home state -- "Melanie F. from PA" -- so that, if anyone saw the website and recognized my face, there would be little doubt who the whore on the website was. More than that, the website would have a profile of me. I admitted on video that I was fucking around, screwing men and women my husband didn't know about. I loved sex, loved it with strangers, loved being used and fucked and manhandled, love turning sexy men into my own playtoys. As the owner of the website said to me in the recorded interview, I was just a sex-craved nymph who couldn't get satisfied at home. So that was the choice I had to make, sitting there in the parking lot yesterday of this porn company's studios. I was there to get photographed for a website having sex with a man not my husband. Mmm, it would be great sex, and knowing that guys online would be jerking off to it made it even more hot for me. But what a risk it presented, huh. The risk the whole world finding out what kind of slut I'd become -- meaning, my husband, parents, sister, friends,s, everyone! There were two Melanies, I was really one person in two worlds. At home, with my husband, I was doting and good. I had fun with him, we were romantic and playful, it was always easy being with him. Easy, yes, that's the right word. No stress, no expectations. It was morally "right" to be with him, I didn't feel bad about myself when I was playing the loving wife. He made the decisions around the house, he did the hard work to earn the money, I had life on easy street. Sleep in, do whatever I wanted, just take care of him with dinner and attention and laundry and shopping, all the things a housewife is expected to do for her husband. That's an easy, simple life, essentially stress-free. I started that life right after college, getting engaged my senior year, basically deciding it was easier to be the wife of a guy from a well-off family than a woman trying to make it on her own in the male-dominated world. Then there's the other Melanie. The one that can't wait, every morning, for her husband to leave for work. I'd get naked as soon as his car was leaving the driveway, I'd rush over to the computer to read my emails, see who was trying to set up a date with me or meet me, find out who was online for cybersex or phonesex. The other Melanie would shower and put on perfume and do my hair BEFORE going to the gym for a workout, leaving open the possibility that my workout would end up being in someone's bed. The other Melanie goes on lunch dates or for drinks with married men, visits the condo of a horny kept blonde downtown, agrees over the phone to meet men in parking lots of motels without ever having met them in person yet. As these months have passed, it's become clear to me who the REAL Melanie is. Not the one I'd been playing since I got married, right after college. The real me was the slut inside who craved attention, worship, and sex. Being so fucking sore I couldn't put my knees together, laughing at the inability to drive myself home from a motel or someone's condo or apartment, feeling sperm dripping down my thighs out of my used cunt from a man I'd never met before . . . that is what made me feel alive. Those moments are pure joy for me. There is nothing in life like them. You know, a married woman like me isn't supposed to have that kind of joy. I supposedly had sworn it off. Frankly, many people would say, any woman isn't supposed to have that kind of joy. The thrill of a stranger staring at your body, wanting you, the fun of the seduction, the amazement of seeing a guy's huge penis for the first time. Or the tingling from knowing that another female wants to fuck me, as much as I do her. No, that's what a slut does, and girls are supposed to be good, not be slutty. Sluts are bad. Right? Fuck that. Fuck ALL of that. The more and more I fucked around, the less I could tell my husband. There was no way he'd understand the real me. If I said, I was having an affair? I shudder at what his reaction might be; anger towards me, possibly physical abuse? Possibly. Certainly I'd be subject to emotional attacks, his family would hire expensive lawyers for the divorce, it would be mental pain far more intrusive than any deep fucking I'd had. But it wasn't an affair, it was the life of a cockslut, it was a need to be a sexual object for men and women, and in that way for me to use them too. But my husband wouldn't understand any of that, he'd just say I was an out-of-control whore, someone living a lie with him. That, really, is why I was contemplating the porn shoot for this website. Maybe, I thought, I wouldn't have to tell him. Maybe he'd find out this way. Like, a friend of his could say, I think your wife was on a porn website. Or, we'd be at dinner and someone would come up to me in front of my hubby and go, I saw you on that porn website. Or, best of all, maybe my small-dicked hubby looked at porn -- with me in his bed, I'd have no idea why -- and he'd see me on the website. So instead of me telling him I was sleeping around behind his back, in one moment he'd just be shown that I'm a fucking slut. Not the good wife who stays at home, but the bitch who spreads open for any hot guy who wants to drill his dick into my married pussy. That wasn't the only reason I was here. The idea of being fucked on film for an Internet porn site had made me excruciatingly horny. I'd been thinking about it for a couple of months. Well, thinking about it seriously; I'd seen this porn site a couple years ago, and I was actually jealous of women who had the audacity and confidence to strip nude and get fucked on a website. Many of the woman aren't all that hot -- too fat, too old, too worn. I was hotter than most of them, I'd make a great model. It sent chills from my clitty up to my nipples, picturing myself in photographs being fucked for the camera. When I'd taken those pictures of myself for my online personal ad, I got a rush from that; the idea of getting fucked in front of a photographer and then the pictures put on the Internet was a serious turn-on for me. So, spurred on less than a month ago after fucking Terry, Johnny, "Gouch" and Hector in the storage room of the gym club, I contacted the porn company and said, I'm a married slut who wants to be on your website. Just writing that email to them, putting my cellphone number in it, put me close to orgasm. It was something new and different, exciting, risque, I couldn't wait. It was really risky too -- I had to lie to my husband, again, justifying why I'd be away from the house all day for a the three-hour long drive from our house to this little oceanside town. Sitting in the front seat of my new sports car, I had other things motivating me. A fork in the road, you know. The last night, my husband raised -- seriously -- the idea of starting a family. Kids. He thought it was time to get going, like my older sister, like his siblings. My reaction? Shit -- that would put a serious crimp in my ability to get fucked every day! Being pregnant? Having a baby in the house? Taking kids around to school and after-school activities? Yeah, I'd meet more men that way . . . but I might not look this good, motherhood was sure to distort my narrow hips, small ass, hot round firm titties. God, what a wreck my life would be. Did I want kids? Sorta, yes. I'd always pictured myself a mom, and there was a definite lure there. A hormonal one, particularly some times more than others. But more than being a fucking slut? No, actually, not even close. That night where he didn't react to my hot lingerie was sort of the last nail in the coffin, in some ways. Other things, less direct as a discussion about motherhood, were making the slut in me push aside the good doting wife. I kept remembering the time, now about a month and a half ago or so, that my husband barely reacted to me wearing a slutty bra and thong late one night. I put it on for my husband, showing off my hot ass, teasing him with my tits. He was appreciating and attentive, but not exactly over-the-top like some of my dates would have been. The sex with him barely lasted long enough for me to even get worked up, before he shot his load in me and called it an evening. Four or five years ago, that would have been a hot night with him. Now? It was pathetically lame. I have better sex just on the phone with guys from the Internet. (And, by comparison, Jim and Mark and Nick and Susan gave me a lot, LOT better reaction to the very same lingerie in the next couple of weeks!) That night kind of typified an anger that was building against my husband. Not outright hatred; just, a resentment, an unspoken disdain. I was mad at him not only for bad sex from his small cock, but for unknowingly restricting my extremely fulfilling sex life. I mean, having put my profile and pictures online and having cybersex and phone sex regularly, over the past year I'd gotten all sorts of offers -- for overnight dates, weekend trips, and fully-paid-for trips to all sorts of cities I'd love to visit. Men in New York, Miami, New Orleans, Chicago, San Francisco, Las Vegas . . . guys online were offering to fly me out, wine and dine me, show me great times, and fuck my brains out. Had to say no to all of that. Not to mention the scores of hot guys who lived near me, whom I could have fucked anytime I wanted, if I could go out at night. Hubby was stopping all of that, every bit of it. Shit, I couldn't even have phonesex late at night, when most of the hot men were available online. Not only was there the unfulfilling sex life after dark. But, just sitting there watching the news with him late at night, thinking to myself there was probably some hot guy with a fat cock and rocking body who could be stretching out my pussy right at that moment, if I wasn't married. That's what you give up when you get married, of course; but when I got married, I had no idea I'd be so interested in that kind of life. Put simply, I enjoyed fucking other men more than my husband; it was even more fun fucking a guy I didn't know, and whom I'd never fuck again, than having another rote turn with hubby. And you know, it's not fair of me, but I was secretly blaming him for it, more and more. I figured he sensed something wasn't right. Like, he'd call me in the middle of the day, and he'd find me bitchy and crabby, trying to keep the conversation short. It didn't happen all the time, but frequently. That was usually because I was finger-fucking myself at the computer, or on hold with a guy for phonesex, or on my way to a date. Yeah, there were a couple of times I talked to him in the middle of the day while I was having sex with Roger or Michael (I trusted them enough to answer my cellphone or the home phone while I was with them). Hi honey, how's your day, when will you be home, I miss you, I love you. I say all the right things, but I probably spoke in monotone, if not being outright bitchy. Hard to concentrate on your husband when a much more sexy stud or horny pervert is licking your twat right at that moment, if not jamming his bone into me. Plus, the arguments. Him and me arguing, more and more. I was always pretty diffident in our relationship, letting him make major decisions. He left decorating the house to me, even though he doesn't have my good taste in color. Otherwise, we'd talk about things, but normally he got the last word in. The last few months, however, I kind of didn't care. I'd bring home food for dinner I knew he didn't like (Middle Eastern or Moroccan stuff, which I adore). Me working "at the gym" until late in the afternoon, so dinner wasn't ready for him when he got home. (No, I would never be at the gym, actually. Use your imagination.) It was getting more out of control, too. Perfect example was this past week, me buying my new convertible sports car, not only not asking him or telling him in advance, but shopping for it without him. I took a boyfriend, my friend Brad, instead. My hubby came home from work and there was a nice, new convertible in our driveway. At first he thought someone else was at our house, then I laughed at the strange conversation we were having. I said, "No, baby, that's mine -- you like it?" Like it? It wasn't about the hot car (hotter than his), nor the fact it cost more than his (trust me, we can afford it, he saves money like it's going out of print). No, he was mad that I made the decision without him knowing in advance. I have to say, I was unapologetic, standing there listening to him rant, but I didn't care. It was time for me to have new wheels, I told him, we can afford it, I did it on the spur of the moment. So what? It made me feel good -- why can't he be happy for me? Now, I couldn't tell him why I really liked having my new car; someone -- maybe Brad, maybe Roger -- said I'd look great in sun glasses in a black convertible, and I thought, why not make it happen? So that led to an argument that night, and another one the next morning. Through all of it, I didn't care. Fuck that, I said of his objections, out loud. It's my car, I like it, you get a new one if you want. Was he suspecting me of cheating on him? I'm a good liar, I have to say. Once, my husband accused me of having an affair, but more in a hypothetical way. "Why didn't you answer the phone, are you having an affair?" Something like that. He wasn't even right about whatever he was saying, I think I had a legitimate excuse for what he was mad about. I don't know if my husband is stupid, but he didn't really pick up on the new things in my life this past year -- all the new lingerie and see-through, slutty clothing I'd been buying myself, or new perfumes, or the TWO gym memberships. Who needs to go to two different gyms to work out? I do, if the guys at one gym think I only walk into it to get laid. When I really want to work out, I need a different gym. I was tiring of the arguments. I didn't want to miss all the good, hot sex I could be having in evenings. I hated having to say no to legitimate offers from rich, gorgeous men to fly to their cities for all-expense-paid weekends of fun and fucking. Sex is no fun when you're staring at the clock, thinking how long I can stay at a guy's apartment or a girl's condo or in a cheap motel, before I had to get home. Would have been way better to fuck without time limits, in my own bedroom. Not to mention being able to have pillow talk, or post-sex kissing and caressing, taking showers together, all the fun things. Melanie, the slutty one, wanted to move on. The married, good Melanie hated having to make that decision. There was no way I was going to do it myself, no way I was going to approach my husband and tell him what was really going on with me. So, that put me here in the parking lot, contemplating making a few hundred bucks getting fucked on camera by a stranger. Fuck, I wanted to do it so badly. Not for the money; but for the fun of it, the sex, the publicity, showing off what a hot slut I am, how good I look nude and with a dick in my mouth or pussy. Or ass, wherever. Just drive home, a voice said in my ears, this is out of control. You're out of control, Melanie. It can all end, break it all off, concentrate on your marriage and husband, start a family, be a mom. This was good for the memories, but what's to show for it? I have great sex one day, and the next day, I just want more. It'll never end. Ever! Except, eventually I'll get old and ugly, saggy, hot men won't want me . . . and I'll be alone with fucking nothing. Nothing, no one. Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 12 Shit, I could get depressed. Truth was, I had options, if I didn't want to stay with my hubby. Good ones, too. The most obvious was y most regular fuck buddy, Michael, who was really now my boyfriend, in truth. I mean, he wasn't the hottest or sexiest guy I knew, he didn't fuck the best, his cock wasn't the biggest, I didn't have the hottest cums with him. But, unlike anyone else, Michael understood me. I'd tell him everything -- meaning, literally, every time I had a date, especially the really horny ones like fucking strangers, or a guy and a girl -- and he would get hot, not jealous. He got off on me being a slut. He'd lick other men's cum out of my twat, or lap it off my breasts. He kept talking about watching me fuck in person, he'd jerk off to pictures of me having sex. I could tell him anything I wanted, even boring "feelings." He knew them, he'd been separated from his 12-year marriage for about a year when he hit on me (or, really, on my ass) at the grocery store. I was fucking comfortable around Michael, he was like the nice warm glove in the wintertime. He had his own (small) apartment, I could move in with him at least temporarily, he'd even let me fuck other guys anytime I wanted, as long as I let him get the sloppy seconds. Besides Michael, who was only ever supportive, I had some lovers actively encouraging me to leave my husband. Brad, I think, is fucking in love with me, but he doesn't know the extent to which I'm a full-time, unpaid tramp. My girly friend Blayne, the rich bitch who lives in a condo Daddy bought for her on the city's waterfront, keeps saying, if I wanna get out on my own, I could move in with her. My out of town boyfriend Adam keeps telling me I need to get a "change of scenery," and cross the country to shack up with him. My BFF from college, Belinda, twice divorced, would take me in for a while. So, it's not like I had to stay put because I lacked options. Actually, it would be easy as fuck to leave my hubby. And . . . I was skirting around the issue of my reaction to Nick. Nicky. That fabulous, hot, gorgeous Italian stud. Not tall or ripped, he was still one fine male specimen, his bronzed skin and flat chest and tummy were delicious to lick during sex. His stare melted me. I could, and had, spent entire days naked with him, not just fucking but cuddling, talking, eating, goofing off. And his prick, mmm. He can fuck a couple hours without stopping, he can cum six or more times a day, and he doesn't mind that I fuck other guys. I mean, if I had to fuck one man every day, that would be Nick. No questions asked. I could even see myself waking up next to him every day -- not that I wanted to change that aspect of my life, but, I mean, if I were to do that . . . . Grrr! The debate raged in my head. My brain didn't want to make a choice, I wanted to postpone it. It was easier to turn the key of my car, start up this beast humming. Call it off today, drive home, think about it more. Really, really think about it, decide what to do. My hand went to the key, to turn it. Only, I didn't turn it. I already knew. I knew what and who I am. I'm a nymph. Slut. Whore. I crave attention, cock, kisses, being manhandled, being sweaty and messy, having stranger's cum shot up my cunt. Make me feel like a woman. Worship my firm big tits and tight little ass and petite body. This is who I am, this is what I want in life. Sure, my husband might find out about this, now that my life as a married slut is officially going public. Sure, I might be victimized in a horrific divorce, where I'll end up with nothing and be cast as an adultering bitch, a worthless cock-craving whore. I might have to go to work and never have the comfortable life I've been leading for almost a decade. But know what I say to all that? FUCK THAT! This bitch LOVES cock! The door to my car clicked open, my hand was pulling the lever back, and my arm pushed the car door open. I confidently strode out of the car, being wettened by the thin noontime rain, heading into the building for a pornographic photoshoot and video recording session. Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 01 I wasn't thinking about cheating, not in person. I wasn't going to cross THAT line, I told myself. I'm not THAT kind of woman. But, I wanted to find more men to play with online, and I wanted some new experiences. Just talking to men about the fantasy of meeting in person -- talking about where, and when, and what we might do -- was really exciting. It made the whole cheating thing seem so much more real, even if the talk was just fantasy. So the idea of trading emails with men, guys who lived near me and wanted to set up real dates to fuck, that was new and different, and making me cream at the thought. Just make a personal ad, get some attention, have some fun with it, I told myself. I didn't need to meet anyone in person from it, it's just like an interactive online game, that's all. So that's what put me here on my bed, in the lingerie, in front of my camera. Giving it a try, I was spicing up my personal ad to get a lot more attention, and make it more real. I changed my profile to exactly describe myself -- size, weight, age, marital status. Petite brunette, married, constantly horny, fantasizing about sex all the time with hung men. It felt surreal, putting my real self out there for slutty people to contact. It became even more real and sexual when I posted those photographs, as well as a hotmail account I started using for my online adventures. There was an 800 number to call for the website to confirm I'm a "real person," which I did too. I was sweating for all of that, as if I'd be discovered, but it felt good telling the world that I loved the thought of getting fucked like a slut. To further confirm to other members that I was not a phony, I took one more picture of myself -- well, of just my flat tummy, with my user name scrawled across my belly in red lipstick. I figured, that would get attention. Shit, did it. Within a couple of days I had dozens of emails from guys living in my area or willing to travel to fuck me. If I was single, I could have lined up two or three dates a day for weeks. Some of the guys were total losers, but more than a few were fuckable and some, for sure, were incredibly hot. I found that I creamed my panties the most when I'd get emails from guys who took pictures of themselves nude but also in clothing, sort of real-world pictures, and also sent me their phone numbers. Those were real men, looking to really fuck me. They wanted me very badly, as all their emails told me. I got off repeatedly reading those emails, fantasizing about fucking them. But would I ever do it? No, I knew I couldn't. You hear stories about losers and freaks online, and I just didn't know who to trust. Besides, I'd get plenty of attention with phonesex and cybersex. That kept everything confined; nothing real, just electronic or, at most, with voice. I wasn't really cheating, just entertaining myself. Meeting a guy from online would be actually cheating. The lines started to blur, a little, a couple weeks or a month or so after I posted my ad. I received an email from some very sexy married guy who lived pretty far away. His online photos proved he was mouthwateringly hot -- in his 30s, an athletic body with muscular shoulders and arms and a ripped belly, and a gorgeous, eight-and-a-half-inch penis. I shoved my fingers into my bald cunt the moment I saw his pictures. He wrote his name was Adam, and he said he loved fucking married women. He gave me his iPhone number and told me to call him, if I wanted to fuck on the phone or share pictures. He said he'd be willing to travel, if we "hit it off." His email finished that he was off of work that day and, if I happened to see his email, I should just call him if I liked what I saw. Like what I saw? I wanted to hump that fabulous cock the moment I saw the first picture of it. Adam got my call not even sixty seconds later. It was late morning my time on the East coast, and he lived somewhere in the middle of the country so it was earlier his time. When he answered, I nervously but excitedly muttered in the phone, "Hi Adam, I'm Melanie, the married woman you just emailed, and I think you're dreamy and your cock is gorgeous." A couple years ago, maybe even a few months ago, I could never have uttered that to a total stranger, and maybe not even my husband. But my aching cunt wanted attention from him, and I wanted to turn him on immediately. My new friend wasn't into wasting time. He said he loved my in my pictures, and he told me he had a few "married friends" whom he "played with." So right off the bat, he asked if I had an iPhone and, when I said I did, he asked if we could "face talk." I snickered at a little secret I knew that he didn't, so we both tapped the buttons on our phones and found ourselves looking at each other's faces. He hadn't shaved that day, which is a sexy look to me, the rugged man with a day's stubble or two on his broad jaw. The guy had big brown eyes, short light hair, broad nose, and very tanned skin. His lips looked eminently kissable. Adam saw my face on his cellphone, and saw that my shoulders were bare. He asked what I was wearing, it looked like I was topless. I was sitting back on the sofa in our TV room, near our computer desk, a huge pillow under my arm to prop up my cellphone as I looked at it. I was insanely horny, thoroughly turned on for the stud. "Oh, not just topless, wanna see?" I asked. I leaned back and pivoted the phone, so its camera scanned the length of my body from my torso to my tummy to my crotch. Adam didn't see a stitch of clothing, I was completely nude. I spread my creamy thin thighs and exposed my naked vagina to the complete stranger, then brought the camera's view past my throbbing nipples on my big tits back to my grinning face. "Should I put on something for you?" I asked playfully, giggling and blushing, feeling so alive and in control. Yes, I was exposing my nude body to a guy I literally didn't know. It turned me on, I loved that his hot stud was hard for me. He confirmed it by showing me the image of his big fist jerking off his huge, fat dick. I couldn't help it, I started finger-fucking myself right away, showing him a close-up of my two fingers burying into my bald cunny. How fucking slutty was that of me? Having video sex with a total stranger, right off the bat, fucking ourselves for each other only because we loved how each other looked? Seriously, it was the hottest sex I'd had in my life to date. The orgasms, as I laid back on the sofa, were amazing. I couldn't put my knees together, my hands ached afterwards, I had sweat on my forehead and dripping down my hot tits. Adam's beautiful penis had three orgasms, shooting cum all over himself. We started talking about "hooking up." I had to confess to him, it would be tough, I could play during the day but some days my husband stayed home from work and I couldn't predict that. It wouldn't be fair to a guy to travel across the country for me, he might not get as much time (or even any time) as he wanted. But, I had a new emotion coming over me. If Adam said he could be there that afternoon, like if he lived really close, I would have said yes. Let me repeat: I would have said YES. Damn, was I looking to cheat? Turn this fantasy into reality? Months ago, I had told myself, it was only fantasy, I would never let it become real. Never, ever, ever. Well ... fuck it! Maybe it needed to get real?