I'm laying it all out, my truth, the raw, messy story of how Shane's become my everything, my fucking king, and how his dick's the center of my universe. It's a lot—Shane's replaced my husband Scott and my other boyfriend Jake like they were just warm-up acts. People don't get it, but for me, it's crystal clear: getting Shane's rock-hard cock deep inside me is my life's mission. That's the goal, the dream, the whole damn point.
Here's the deal. Shane's not just my man,he's Scott's boss now at the shop. Yeah, the guy half Scott's age is calling the shots, and he's not subtle about it. The other day, Shane pulled Scott aside and told him, that he's not allowed to see me naked anymore. His own wife, and Shane, this younger, cocky stud, says, " She's mine now." That shit's a turn-on of epic proportions. Knowing Shane's claiming me so hard he's telling my husband he's cut off from my body. It makes my pussy throb and it's wet constantly. I feel completely owned by Shane, like I'm his property, and I love that feeling. It's so fucking hot.
I got a pussy load of hot testicle snot after I told Shane about how I fucked Jake again. It wasn't the sex that made Shane's dick hard, it was that I told Jake he's number two now, demoted, pushed to the sidelines. I did actually tell Jake that Shane's the king, the one who owns me. When I spilled that to Shane, his face lit up like he'd won the lottery, and his dick got hard as a rock. He loves being the top dog, taking what used to be Jake's and Scott's and making it his. My guess is he likes knowing they're powerless. That power trip gets him off, and as you already know, that kind of mindset makes my pussy drool like a faucet. It's more than sex—it's like he's a man after my own perverted sexual goals.
When I told Shane how I cucked Jake, knocked him down to half the man he thought he was, it was like flipping a switch. He didn't say much, just whipped out that gorgeous, throbbing cock and told me to suck it. I went all in, slobbering, tasting him, feeling him twitch in my mouth. Then he pulled out, yanked my shorts down, bent me over, and used that rock-hard dick to rearrange my insides. No warning, just pure domination. He pounded me so hard I was seeing stars, my pussy gripping him like it was begging his dick to stay inside of me. Then, without asking, he unloaded a hot, slimy load of cum deep in my guts. Didn't check if breeding me was good by me—he didn't need to. I love that he doesn't ask, he just does what his dick wants. It was fucking perfect. I came so hard before he nutted that I was cum-retarded, brain-dead, nothing but a cum dump for his dick. He could've done anything, and I'd have begged for more.
Feeling Shane's sperm swimming inside me all night? That's my kind of addiction. It's like he's still claiming me, even when he's gone. It's not just physical, it's such a mental turn on as well.
Shane asked me to hang with some of his buddies and their wives, but I passed. Some of them are still salty about this "porn is gross" argument we had, and I wasn't in the mood for their drama. I don't need that stress. But tonight, we're going out with some different friends, and I'm stoked. I'm also counting down the seconds till Shane fucks me into oblivion again. I'm already imagining him pumping me full till I'm a brain-dead cum sponge, his hot load dripping inside me, making me feel like I'm all his. Just thinking about it's got me wet, like I can feel his cum in me now.
That's my story. Shane's my king, and I'm his. He's got the balls to tell my husband he's done seeing me naked, and that kind of power makes me want him even more. Every thrust, every load, every time he claims me, it's what I live for. And I wouldn't change a damn thing.
Yes, for those of you who keep asking if it's really me on the swinger sites SLS and SDC, and Tinder. I'm prowling for that one-in-a-million fuck buddy with a cock so magical it makes my pussy convulse in a cum-soaked frenzy. I'm talking about a guy who can pound my holes until I'm a sloppy mess, leaving me dripping with his load and begging for round two. That's the point of being on these sites, isn't it? The thought gets me wet, I guess from thinking I'll find some stud who knows how to work me over, overfilling me until my thighs are dripping cum and my clit's massive and throbbing from the aftermath. I'm a single chick on these swinger sites, which, and I'm being serious here, is like being a unicorn in a field of horny goats. I'm clear in my profile, though. I make sure that it's known that I am looking for guys to pump my holes full of sperm, no drama, no bullshit. No travelers, no hotel buddies. The idea of that hits me hard, excites me, and, to say the least, is a turn-on. I can see it in my head that moment when I'm pinned down, his cock slamming into me, melting my insides, and turning my brain off with massive orgasms. It's how I wish things would go.
But here's the letdown. And there is always a letdown. These sites are like Tinder for swingers—full of folks who live a million miles away or miss the mark I'm looking for in more ways than one. I'm loaded with messages from couples trying to pimp out their wives like it's a barter system. "Hey, take my wife's pussy for a spin, but only if I can shove my dick in your guts."That's a just-say-no scenario. It's taking one for the team, and it's a hard pass. Honestly, I find it slightly creepy. If anyone ever offered me up to get his dick in someone's pussy it would be over instantly. I feel bad for the wife/girlfriend.
Who wants a partner that makes the choices and most likely the rules for you? I'm not going to let some rando husband plow me just to get a taste of his wife's clit. I seriously would let my partner pump cum in some hotties ass till his dick dry heaves without me being there. He wouldn't even have to ask. All I ask is he gives me all the tasty details afterward. But only if she wants him on his own merits, don't ask me to find your pussy for you. I have a hard enough time finding dick. Anyway, I'm off track as usual, back to it. I do spell it out clearly on my profile. If I'm in the mood for pussy, which isn't all that much anymore, as the dick has become my obsession, I'm happy to borrow your wife, let her suck my clit until I flood her mouth, and then do the same to her. When I'm done, I'll send her ass promptly back home to you. No husbands are required. But profiles don't get read all that much. I get a parade of offers that seem like pimped-out negotiations and guys who think "close" means a three-hour drive.
Don't get me wrong. I love being on swinger sites and even Tinder. Every now and then, I do find a cock that works my cunt so well that I can't give up on these sites. I suppose it's a cock safari. The thrill of the hunt, the high of finding that guy who can fuck me into oblivion. Even though it can be a slog through a swamp of questionable people and bad matches, the occasional hit on a magical cock makes it worth it.
I went back to Jake, my kind of ex, the one I dropped for Shane. I'm still caught up in feelings for Jake, but not like the ones I have for Shane. And, of course, there is my husband, but as you know, he's been reduced to less than a roommate. And now, I'm getting off on doing the same to Jake, slowly breaking him down, making him mine to control. Every time I touch his dick, I get a little more power over him now, and it's like a drug, making my pussy ache with how excited I am about owning him.
When I got to Jake's place, I decided to be upfront and not waste time or energy on something he wanted, that being me, but wouldn't get. So, without sugarcoating, I told Jake straight up that Shane's taken his place, that he fucks me better, and emotionally we are a better fit. I used the example that Shane did the same thing Jake did to Scott when he took ownership of me from my husband. I watched Jake's face get all sad. I guess that stung more than I thought it would. But then again, he used to be the king, the one who laughed at Scott, who fucked me into submission while my husband faded away. Now he's the one who's been replaced, removed by Shane, losing me the very same way. He seemed humiliated, and I thought maybe I should leave because he obviously didn't like hearing what I was telling him. The thing was, I could feel my clit getting fat and hard just seeing him shrink, but when I turned to leave, he begged me to stay. Begged. I'm not kidding. That's when I knew I had him. His pride was gone, his dick was in control, and that made him want me more than he wanted his dignity. I knew we were going to fuck right there and then, and I knew it was going to be much different this time.
He was timid, as if I broke him, but very eager to please. I told him to get to work on my clit, and he dove in like it was his last chance, sucking and licking for 30 minutes straight. My body was on fire, my clit so hard it felt like it could explode. I made him stop, not because I was done, but because I wanted to push him harder. I ordered him to jerk off for me, to stroke that perfect cock while I watched. The same thing he used to laugh about when I told him I made my husband jerk off in front of me. But I didn't just want to see it. I wanted to own him, make him my toy. He did it with no hesitation, massaging his balls like I told him while I rubbed my rock-hard clit, getting wetter watching him shrink in front of me.
.
I asked if he liked it, this new way we fuck, where I'm the one calling the shots. He nodded, but that was weak. I made him say it, made him admit he was into it. Then I twisted the knife because I knew I could. "Now you know how my husband feels. Do you like it?" Jake asked if he had a choice, and I shut it down. When I said "No," he quickly said he said he liked it, and the rush of humiliating him, of seeing the man who once owned me was able to turn me into a brainless cum sponge for his dick, who is now the one submitting to me, it went straight to my cunt. I wanted to crush Jake, turn him into a cuck, a pathetic version of the man he was, just like I did with Scott. But, and this is a big "but." His dick fucks it all up. It's perfection. It's bigger than Shane's, thick, gorgeous, the kind of cock that feels like it was built to ruin me. Shane's sexier and more fun. More importantly, his dick is close enough and strong enough to keep me hooked, but still, Jake's cock is the best I've ever had, bar none.
Still, after he worshipped my clit and jerked off for me, I couldn't resist. I needed that perfect dick inside me. Needed to feel it wreck me. So I spread my legs like I used to for him when he was the one in charge and told him to put just the tip in. That fat, flawless head slipped inside, and I took control, using my hips to tease it in and out, keeping him still while I fingered my clit. I was running the show, and it felt so fucking good. When he said he was gonna cum, I didn't want to waste that load. I slammed my pussy down, taking him balls-deep, his cock buried so far it was hitting bottom, flooding me with cum. I was chasing that mind-blowing orgasm I've had with him before, the kind that leaves me trembling, his cock so deep it's like it's rewriting my insides. But I didn't come. I was close but didn't quite get there. I was disappointed, honestly. Jake's given me many of the best orgasms of my life, but this time? It was good, but not enough. And I told Jake that. He apologized to the point of annoying me. I told him I'd let him know if I would let him make it up to me, and I left, ignoring his excuses of how he would do better. He did fine for what I wanted. He exceeded my expectations as far as my mental kinks go, but I'll never tell him that.
I haven't rubbed one out yet, but I'm going to, and I know what will be running through my head. It's not just the sex—it's the high of humiliating Jake, of turning the man who once took me from my husband into the one who's lost me to Shane. He gave up his pride and begged me to stay, making my pussy drip. Now, I want to push him further, see how much more I can take from him, how low he'll go for me. Shane is the man I want and I know I am into him way more than I should be. He makes me feel so alive, especially when he's got his cock in my throat, but Jake's perfect cock and this game of breaking him...well, I'm nowhere near done with Jake yet...and if he goes down the rabbit hole with me, I may never be done with Jake. Oh well, two...wait, I forgot I was married. That makes three men....and for me, three men are better than one!
Look, I’m gonna lay it all out here because this is who I am, and I’m not ashamed of it. I’m married to Scott, but let’s be real—our marriage isn’t some sacred bond anymore. I openly cheat on him, and I don’t give a damn if he knows. It’s not a cuckold thing in the classic sense, but I’d call it an emotional cuckold dynamic. I’ve cut him off completely from seeing me naked. That privilege, that intimacy, it’s not his anymore. It belongs to Shane, my 30-year-old lover who’s got me wrapped around his damn finger. And yeah, I’m obsessed with Shane—emotionally, sexually, every fucking way. But then there’s Jake, my 45-year-old ex, whose cock I can’t stop craving. Tomorrow, I’m sneaking off to see Jake, to feel his massive dick pump me full of cum again. I won’t tell Shane, but I need it. I need both of them, and I love making Scott suffer in the process. Here’s why this shit turns me on so much.
First, let’s talk about Shane. He’s younger, fun, relaxed, and just gets me in a way Scott never could. I’m in love with his cock—perfectly sized, thick, and it fucking resizes my pussy every time he slides it in. I could take it 24/7, no joke. I dream about it, fantasize about it, and when he’s fucking me, it’s like my whole world narrows down to that moment. His dick owns me, stretches me, makes me feel alive. Emotionally, he’s got me hooked too. He’s not just a fuck; he’s my everything right now. I feel like I belong to him, like my body is his to claim. That’s why I don’t let Scott see me naked anymore. Stripping down for Shane feels like giving him my soul, my desire, my fucking essence. Denying Scott that view? It’s like slamming a door in his face, reminding him he’s nothing to me sexually. It’s cruel, and that cruelty gets me wet. It’s power, plain and simple. I love knowing he’s left in the dark, humiliated, while Shane gets to see every inch of me, touch me, fuck me senseless.
Now, denying Scott isn’t just about Shane. It’s about me reclaiming my body and my pleasure. Scott’s my husband, sure, but he doesn’t own me. I decide who gets access, and he’s lost that right. When I refuse to let him see me naked, it’s like I’m saying, “You’re not man enough for this.” It’s a mindfuck for him, and I get off on that control. It’s not just about physical denial; it’s emotional. I’m tearing him down, making him feel small, while I’m out there getting fucked by men who make my pussy sing. The humiliation I put him through—knowing I’m giving my body to Shane, knowing I’m obsessed with another man’s cock—it’s a rush. It’s like I’m punishing him for not being enough, and that power dynamic makes me feel like a fucking goddess.
But then there’s Jake, and holy shit, I can’t stop thinking about him either. I left him for Shane, but his cock? It’s a goddamn masterpiece. Slightly bigger than Shane’s, perfectly shaped, like it was sculpted to be the ultimate dick. In the year we were together, he pumped more cum into me than Scott has in our entire marriage. I can still feel it—his thick, hot loads flooding my pussy, hitting my cervix, swimming around inside me. It’s like he was breeding me, turning my insides into a sloppy, cummy mess, and I fucking loved every second of it. Tomorrow, I’m going to see him, and I’m already dripping thinking about it. I need his dick inside me again, need to feel his balls empty into me, need that primal, animalistic release. I won’t tell Shane because I know he’d hate it, but I don’t care. I’m not choosing between them; I want both. Shane owns my heart and body right now, but Jake’s cock is a fucking addiction I can’t quit.
Why do I crave this? Why do I love having multiple men while denying Scott? It’s about freedom, power, and raw fucking desire. With Shane, I’m emotionally and sexually consumed. He makes me feel seen, wanted, alive. With Jake, it’s pure, unfiltered lust—his cock is a drug, and I’m chasing that high. Denying Scott amplifies it all. It’s not just about saying no to him; it’s about saying yes to myself, to my pleasure, to men who make me feel like a fucking queen. Every time I let Shane or Jake fuck me, it’s a middle finger to Scott’s inadequacy. I love the cruelty of it, the way it twists the knife in his ego. It’s not just about their cocks (though, fuck, those are perfect); it’s about me owning my sexuality, my body, my desires.
So yeah, I’m obsessed with Shane’s cock, in love with how he makes me feel, and I’m sneaking off to let Jake breed me tomorrow. Scott? He gets nothing but the humiliation of knowing I’m out there, giving myself to men who deserve it. This is my kink, my truth, and I’m living it unapologetically.
Look, I'm a 58-year-old married chick who's got a pussy that's screaming for action. The husband, as you all know, isn't going to get the job done, and let me tell you, finding a guy to ram his cock in me and leave me oozing his cum is like trying to find a unicorn in a dumpster. Yes, I have Shane, Jake, and occasionally a few others, but unlike pussies, dicks come in a variety of shapes and sizes, and the more, the merrier. Everybody thinks, "Oh, you're a woman, just walk into a bar, and dudes will be tripping over their dicks to get to you." Bullshit. I barely get approached, and when I do, it's usually some weirdo who's one bad day away from wearing my skin as a dress. Quick silence of the Lambs reference there for those who didn't catch it.
Obviously, I'm not out here looking for a fucking soulmate—well, at least most of the time, I just want a hard dick to rearrange my guts, fuck me until my eyes roll back, and then smile as they say, "see ya" while I'm still dripping their load out of one hole or another that it was left in. Maybe I'm open to something more if the stars align, but good luck finding that. Guys my age? Jesus, they come in two categories. They are either falling apart like a soggy taco or overly fit and obsessed with letting me know how fit they are and giving me tips on what I should be eating. Plus the older guys tend to be so clingy that they're texting me "wyd" at 3 a.m. like I'm their parole officer. I am not a fan of having my pussy on a leash.
So, I go for the younger guys—fresh meat, or one would think. They've got the stamina to pound me into next week and the cum to leave me looking like a glazed donut. But holy fuck, it's a dick minefield. I bet I've had at least fifty 30 to 40-year-olds ghost me or freeze up when it's time to nut down my throat. I'm serving them my pussy on a silver platter, and they are too scared to pull the trigger? I'm not asking for a marriage proposal...I just want you to fuck me stupid and leave me leaking.
It's exhausting. I get myself all worked up, ready to have my holes stuffed with cock.... and nothing. High and dry. Maybe it's because I'm not shy about what I want—I'll tell a guy straight up I want his cock slamming me until I'm dripping cum out of every hole. But apparently, that's too much for some of these fragile egos. The landscape has changed so much over the years. It's not that guys won't show interest...they just want to "get to know me better" first. I'm thinking, what better way to get to know me than by letting suck the sperm out of your balls. I say keep it simple...fuck me, fill me, and fuck off.
Look, I’m gonna lay it all out here because this is who I am, and I’m not ashamed of it. I’m married to Scott, but let’s be real—our marriage isn’t some sacred bond anymore. I openly cheat on him, and I don’t give a damn if he knows. It’s not a cuckold thing in the classic sense, but I’d call it an emotional cuckold dynamic. I’ve cut him off completely from seeing me naked. That privilege, that intimacy, it’s not his anymore. It belongs to Shane, my 30-year-old lover who’s got me wrapped around his damn finger. And yeah, I’m obsessed with Shane—emotionally, sexually, every fucking way. But then there’s Jake, my 45-year-old ex, whose cock I can’t stop craving. Tomorrow, I’m sneaking off to see Jake, to feel his massive dick pump me full of cum again. I won’t tell Shane, but I need it. I need both of them, and I love making Scott suffer in the process. Here’s why this shit turns me on so much.
First, let’s talk about Shane. He’s younger, fun, relaxed, and just gets me in a way Scott never could. I’m in love with his cock—perfectly sized, thick, and it fucking resizes my pussy every time he slides it in. I could take it 24/7, no joke. I dream about it, fantasize about it, and when he’s fucking me, it’s like my whole world narrows down to that moment. His dick owns me, stretches me, makes me feel alive. Emotionally, he’s got me hooked too. He’s not just a fuck; he’s my everything right now. I feel like I belong to him, like my body is his to claim. That’s why I don’t let Scott see me naked anymore. Stripping down for Shane feels like giving him my soul, my desire, my fucking essence. Denying Scott that view? It’s like slamming a door in his face, reminding him he’s nothing to me sexually. It’s cruel, and that cruelty gets me wet. It’s power, plain and simple. I love knowing he’s left in the dark, humiliated, while Shane gets to see every inch of me, touch me, fuck me senseless.
Now, denying Scott isn’t just about Shane. It’s about me reclaiming my body and my pleasure. Scott’s my husband, sure, but he doesn’t own me. I decide who gets access, and he’s lost that right. When I refuse to let him see me naked, it’s like I’m saying, “You’re not man enough for this.” It’s a mindfuck for him, and I get off on that control. It’s not just about physical denial; it’s emotional. I’m tearing him down, making him feel small, while I’m out there getting fucked by men who make my pussy sing. The humiliation I put him through—knowing I’m giving my body to Shane, knowing I’m obsessed with another man’s cock—it’s a rush. It’s like I’m punishing him for not being enough, and that power dynamic makes me feel like a fucking goddess.
But then there’s Jake, and holy shit, I can’t stop thinking about him either. I left him for Shane, but his cock? It’s a goddamn masterpiece. Slightly bigger than Shane’s, perfectly shaped, like it was sculpted to be the ultimate dick. In the year we were together, he pumped more cum into me than Scott has in our entire marriage. I can still feel it—his thick, hot loads flooding my pussy, hitting my cervix, swimming around inside me. It’s like he was breeding me, turning my insides into a sloppy, cummy mess, and I fucking loved every second of it. Tomorrow, I’m going to see him, and I’m already dripping thinking about it. I need his dick inside me again, need to feel his balls empty into me, need that primal, animalistic release. I won’t tell Shane because I know he’d hate it, but I don’t care. I’m not choosing between them; I want both. Shane owns my heart and body right now, but Jake’s cock is a fucking addiction I can’t quit.
Why do I crave this? Why do I love having multiple men while denying Scott? It’s about freedom, power, and raw fucking desire. With Shane, I’m emotionally and sexually consumed. He makes me feel seen, wanted, alive. With Jake, it’s pure, unfiltered lust—his cock is a drug, and I’m chasing that high. Denying Scott amplifies it all. It’s not just about saying no to him; it’s about saying yes to myself, to my pleasure, to men who make me feel like a fucking queen. Every time I let Shane or Jake fuck me, it’s a middle finger to Scott’s inadequacy. I love the cruelty of it, the way it twists the knife in his ego. It’s not just about their cocks (though, fuck, those are perfect); it’s about me owning my sexuality, my body, my desires.
So yeah, I’m obsessed with Shane’s cock, in love with how he makes me feel, and I’m sneaking off to let Jake breed me tomorrow. Scott? He gets nothing but the humiliation of knowing I’m out there, giving myself to men who deserve it. This is my kink, my truth, and I’m living it unapologetically.
Happy Mother's Day, the day after, to me. I spent it with a guy who was just a thought in his father's balls when I had two kids. And, after telling my husband that, once again, Scott has a shame boner. What goes through his head? I would love to know, especially on days like today, Mother's Day. I spent the holiday with a 30-year-old who masterfully pumped sperm in my guts 3 times yesterday. He fucked me into a cum oblivion to the point I was so cum retarded I forgot my name. Then after letting me recover, he slipped his dick in my asshole, stretching it slowly, letting me feel that uncomfortable stretch transform into pure pleasure until he got balls deep. So deep, he moved things around inside of me with the head of his dick. That feeling of my innards being rearranged and resized made me cum so intense I couldn't breathe.
He took me home, and we sat in my driveway, kissing, and this sounds bad but I wanted my neighbors to see us. Then he pulled his dick out and told me to suck it before I went inside. A 30-year-old, owning me, making me suck his dick on command. If I had any self-control, I would have walked away. Instead, I spent 45 minutes in the driveway making love to his dick with my mouth. I had to...I wanted to...truthfully, I needed to. That 45 minutes of his cock slipping in and out of my throat felt like 30 seconds. When he fed me his cum, it was his third load of the day, and it wasn't that much, but still enjoyable to drink.
Then when I finally did get in the house, I told Scott how Shane's cum felt, hot and thick, swimming in my pussy and ass all day, and how I sucked on his dick in the driveway, swallowing every drop till my belly was warm with fresh hot sperm from his balls. I told him how we passionately made out in front of his house, not caring if the neighbors saw us, hoping they did. Then I shared Shane telling me he loves me and me telling him the same. And what is Scott's reaction besides a defeated look? His dick is rock-hard, like he's getting off on the humiliation. I took it further and described Mother's Day, how I spent it riding Shane's dick, my pussy milking him as he fucked me raw, his cum painting my insides. Still, Scott's erection stayed, like he's getting off on the image of Shanes cum marking me as his. Maybe it's the ultimate kick—knowing I'm gone now, that I've been fucked into submission by a better man. Something he could never do. Is that what makes his cock so hard that he cums without touching himself? Or maybe it's just Shane himself, he pictures the image of a stud half his age who took his job and is now rewriting our story, taking his wife with every stroke of his dick in my pussy. Every pump of sperm in my body makes me a little more his in ways I never was or will be with Scott.
I just don't know. But when I saw Scott's eyes glaze over and his mouth open, I knew he was cumming in his pants. The wet spot soon followed, getting larger by the second. Now he looked humiliated, and as fucked out as I was, my clit was rock hard. I admit it. I masturbated in my bedroom alone with a vibrator, thinking about Scott's humiliated face from cumming in his pants. Happy Mother's Day to me!
Happy Mother's Day. I got texts, cards, and flowers, which were all perfect. To make the day even more perfect, soon I'll be on my knees slipping Shane's cock down my throat, worshiping his cock with my mouth until he feeds me the best Mother's Day present ever, a belly full of warm sperm fresh from Shane's testicles. While his dick is pumping cum down my throat, I'll be thinking about when I was 28, he was still just a tiny swimmer waiting to be let loose from his father's balls to transform into the man who is now releasing his own swimmers from the head of his dick into every hole of my body at will because I can't say no to him or his dick. I don't want to say no. I'm getting carried away. Anyway, tell your Mom Happy Mother's Day.
I went out with Shane last night with a gaggle of couples and some single guys when the convo swerved into porn. Gee, wonder why? My guess would be because everyone knows I've been a porn star and churned out my share of cum dripping flicks. It's not a problem for me, and I own it. I also am aware that the wives are not fans of me. It means nothing to me. They aren't my style. I just put up with them for Shane. But then the ladies start their "ew, porn's so gross" sermon, and I finally blurt out "Bless your vanilla hearts." That made all eyes on me.
I'm not saying every porn clip's a masterpiece—that every corner of the internet is a gem, and I often think, "Who greenlit this dumpster fire?" But the stuff I watch? For me, it makes my clit hard and my box wet. So when these chicks start dunking on it, I'm like, "You folks need to broaden your horizons."
Then they go all in as a group, looking for a knockout punch, calling guys who watch porn "losers." I leaned into that one with a big smile and said, "Ladies, the dudes glued to PornHub? They're not the losers...I'd worry about the guys who don't watch it. Those are the ones with a check engine light on their sex drive amongst other things. But, I guess if you keep a dry pussy that's the kind of man you want...if you can call him a man."
That caused a notable pause in the conversation, and I admit that was probably an over-the-top answer on my part. The thing is, the men all knew I was right...they watch porn but are too afraid to admit it to their wives. Who wants to be in a marriage like that? I was going to stop there, but they keep whining about how porn is disgusting and ruining marriages. I was done playing nice. It was time to get graphic, and I said, "Disgusting? What's gross about a hot dude with a cock like a baseball bat stretching a sloppy wet pussy? I feel sorry for you and your husband if that makes you gag. It sounds like your sex life's drier than a desert. Who wants to live like that?"
Then, one gets all high and mighty and stands up for her friend. She tells me I have a problem and should see someone. So I lock eyes with her and drop the shock factor question...it's a go-to move of mine as it's super effective at throwing vanilla people off their game, "So, you are telling me that wrapping your lips around a fat cock and chugging cum straight from the balls is gross?" She made the "ew" face and said, "Yes, that's not sex, it's not love, it's a desperate act to keep the attention of a man who doesn't love you." I had to laugh and hit her with, "Well, don't cry when your man's spraying his load in some other chick's guts because she's feeding his attention-starved dick because you want to leave his dick in his pants." Now it's personal, and her husband, Tony, tries to pipe up and defend her honor, but I'm on a roll. I raised my voice, "Tony, say it for the cheap seats. Tell us you don't want a blowjob. Tell us getting one is an attention-starved act that it means you don't love your wife." The graphicness of the question locked him up, especially when his wife tried to answer for him, and I put my hand up and shushed her, telling her not to answer for him. Between his wife's glare and the guys smiling at his predicament, he said nothing. I said, "Silence...That's your husband's dick holding a sign that says suck me, I'm starving!" I got some "Fuck you's, and a few other angry retorts, but felt it prudent to add that if you loved your husband, you would at least consider doing things for him he liked and enjoyed, just like he should do the same for you. We went back and forth for a bit until it got quiet.
That made it quite awkward...for them. I was pretty happy with how things went. Then, Shane, my sexy fuck toy, started laughing and went, "I fucking love it when you suck my dick. I'm hoping you take care of that on the way home." I said, "Count on it." And I did. I sucked the sperm right out his balls in the parking lot, I went down on him like a champ, and he pumped my mouth full of his cum. I swallowed it, topping off my dinner and grinning the whole time.
I want to talk about something big, fat, and hard—my clit. It's massive, and I love it. People assume it's from steroids, but it's always been big, and I'm positive it's the reason for my intense sex drive. Guys need to understand why this is a beautiful thing, not something to shy away from. As far as I'm concerned, my clit is a gift, a gift that I love to share!
My clit does amazing things that lots of other unlucky women will never know. When I'm turned on, it doubles in size, gets thick, and the head pops out, looking strikingly like the head of a man's dick. It's not just the look—I'm positive it feels similar too. The sensations are beyond amazing, especially when you stroke around the rim of the head. That slow, deliberate circling drives me wild, and it's a pleasure that takes over my entire body.
I've noticed the same reaction in guys when I focus on the rim of their cock head when I'm working their dick. Their eyes glaze over, they forget to breathe, and I can tell they're lost in the sensation. It makes me jealous because it's like I'm mirroring what I feel. That's probably why I love giving handjobs so much—I get what they're experiencing. I see it in their expressions, that moment when my fingers are hitting all the right spots. My clit operates on the same wavelength as a dick, with one key difference, and that is it doesn't have a cum hole. God, I wish it did. I fantasize about feeling cum surge through my clit, pulsing out into a man's mouth as he sucks it. The thought alone is enough to drive me crazy.
Physically, my clit is my pride. It's pure ecstasy when it's stroked just right—gripped gently, worked with a steady rhythm. It's not just the physical sensation; it's the mental high. Knowing someone's focused on my pleasure, watching them get into it, turns me on even more. I love reversing roles, too, guiding a guy's hand to jerk me off. Seeing his focus, feeling his touch, it's almost as incredible as the act itself. Mentally, it's empowering. My clit is unapologetic, and I feel so connected to my sexuality when it's being worshipped like that.
I've thought about making an instructional video to show how to give a woman with a big clit a handjob. It's my favorite thing—having my clit jerked off is pure bliss. I'd walk through the slow build, the grip, the rhythm, how to tease the head just right. I want guys to get it, to see the beauty in it. My only wish is that my clit could grow even bigger. That would be perfection.
As far as I'm concerned, my clit is a gift, a gift that I love to share!
I found something really good with Shane. I love walking into that shop, the way they all look at me—Scott's coworkers, all those guys who know why I'm there. I make sure I dress the part, knowing they're watching me head straight for Shane. It's like I'm making a statement that, yes, I'm his, I belong to Shane now. I can feel them looking at us when Shane and I leave for his lunch break. They know. They all know. It makes my pussy drool when they turn and stare at Scott to see his reaction to his wife leaving with Shane. I wonder what they might be thinking about. When we come back, I see them turning around to look. I'm sure they know my thighs are still slick from where Shane's been, his cum still warm inside me. It's like a secret for everyone to see, and it makes my clit throbs so hard I can barely walk straight.
Why do I like bowing down to the cock of a 30-year-old? It's the power of it. Shane's cocky, and he takes, takes what he wants. He took Scott's job, his role as my man, and now he's got me, spreading my legs and taking his cum for him like it's as natural as breathing. My body can't say no, and neither can my mind. It's not just the sex—though, fuck, it's the best I've ever had—it's how Shane, like me, wants everyone to know that I am undoubtedly his. He wants them to see me leave with him, see me come back, obviously fucked. It's their looks, and I swear they know Shane's sperm is swimming inside of me. Watching them watch me makes my clit so hard I could almost cum. And the whispers they don't even hide how Scott's wife is getting railed by Shane just add to the high.
This company event's coming up, and I'm going with Shane. I'm nervous, and my stomach's knotted thinking about it. But I'm fingering myself raw thinking about it. I picture us walking in, hand in hand, like we're the couple of the night. Everyone will see...Scott's coworkers, their wives, the whole crew. They'll see me holding Shane's arm, my fingers laced with his, kissing him right there in front of them. It would be hot in some ways if Scott were there. I know he won't be, but I'm touching myself, thinking how my husband will be there by himself, reduced to just some guy in the crowd, an outsider watching his wife become Shane's woman. That thought makes my pussy so wet I can't think straight. But I think it's probably even hotter if Scott just stays away, letting everyone know Shane and I have made him irrelevant in this relationship.
It gets dirtier in my head. I keep imagining slipping away to the bathroom with Shane, dropping to my knees, his cock in my throat. I want to feel his cum shooting straight from his balls into my mouth, slimy and hot, sliding down into my belly. I get so fucking turned on by drinking him like that, bowing to him, grateful he's letting me feed on his dick. But the most critical part is, sexually, I want them to know—all those people at the event, I want them to sense it when we come back that I emptied Shane, my throat still warm from his load, that I'm Shane's in a way that's bigger than just a fling.
I'll be honest. It's fucking with my head. When I tell Scott I belong to Shane now, that I'm in love with him more than I ever was with him, he's upset—I can see it in his face and hear it in his voice...but he gets hard. I see. I have been so confused by it I have reached out to touch it to make sure...and it's hard as granite. I know he's slipping into the bathroom to jerk off when I'm done with him. For some reason, that bothers me, and I don't get why. I'm giving myself to another man, that Shane's cock owns me, and Scott's getting off on it. It shouldn't bug me—I'm literally living for Shane right now, for the rush, for the way everyone knows I'm Shane's woman now—but it does. It's become something I can't get out of my mind. I wonder if he's getting hard at work, too, when his coworkers whisper about Shane bending me over, pumping his cock into my guts. Does he feel that same twisted excitement as I do when he hears them talk about how I'm Shane's now? It's weird that I care because it feels like Shane's everything I want. But somehow, in some twisted way, I want Scott just a little more. Does Scott know that? As unconfident as Scott seems, is it just an act? How could a man get such a rock of a hard-on under this kind of humiliation? Is he into the humiliation, the same way I'm into humiliating him? Does he jerk off at the thought of everyone knowing I'm Shane's? I don't know, and it bugs me that I'm even thinking about it. I want to keep living this, keep feeling this high, but I can't shake the worry that Scott's getting something out of it, too, and I don't know that I like that. I want him to feel the full weight of what I'm doing to him...and when I drop a ten-ton brick on him...his dick stands straight up. It feels like he's playing me. It's one piece I can't quite fit. For now...I'm going to keep things exactly as they are. I don't know what else to do. He may be trickier than I thought. If so...game on!
I played housewife and baked today. But before I did that, I sucked Shane's dick. I never took any clothes off, never let him touch me. I just sucked his dick. It's all I wanted to do. Why? Maybe it's an obsession. Perhaps it's because there is nothing like the rush of sucking a guy's cock and feeling that moment when I'm pulling his cum right out of him. The second I wrap my lips around the tip and start working that slit, I'm dialed in. I can feel my suction, and it's this tight, deliberate pull in my mouth, literally pulling his sperm up through his dick. It's not just sucking; it's like I'm gripping that cum hole with my lips and tugging, slow and steady, like sucking a thick shake through a straw but way more intense. I swear, I can sense it moving—like this warm, pulsing flow I'm coaxing out of his dick with every pull. I swear I can feel it moving through a man's dick. It's beyond satisfying feeling his cock twitch and knowing I'm making that happen, sucking every drop of hot, slimy sperm right out of his testicles. of him. When I feel that first thick swallow going down my throat, it feels like I've won. I know people find that weird and gross, but I never seem to get complaints. Go figure.
Just popping in to show you, that I actually do other things besides sexual activities. I like to cook and bake, they are my second favorite activities to keep me occupied 😜 Hope you are enjoying your day 💋
Dinner was fun tonight. I took great joy in telling my husband how I begged for Shane's cock and how deeply I felt for him, a man half his age who is now his boss. I had to touch myself under the table...I couldn't help it. My clit was so big and hard I had no choice. I didn't tell him about Jake. I probably will tomorrow after he faces Shane at work.
Anyway, to the point. Scott sat across from me at the kitchen table. He was in a pretty good mood. He hasn't had to face Shane yet, but he will tomorrow so I thought this would be a good time to let him know my feelings. I just got straight to the point. I casually said, "You know, Shane is "better at everything. His cock, his job, the way he makes me cum. I crave it. Every time he fucks me, I forget about you just a little more." Though, in all honestly, I do look at Shane's cum dripping dick fresh out of my pussy and think about how I will never let Scott feel that again." Just saying that makes my clit throb...it really does.
My pussy was in a mood, and the head of my clit was so big and hard it looked like the head of a man's cock. It made me want to crank it up heavy on Scott tonight. So, I slid Shane's text to me from earlier across the table. "Can't wait to see you tonight. I've been thinking about you all day. Love you!"
I replied, "I'll get there as soon as I can, and love you back!"
His face dropped, and he told me to stop it, but I noticed he was trying to hide something. I watched his hand move toward his crotch, trying to cover his perverted erection. "Still getting hard for this, huh?" I said. "Even knowing he's your boss now. The man who took your life, your pride, your place in my bed, and taken my body from you. And here you sit, getting hard knowing I feel more for Shane than I do you. How is that possible?" I asked him. He wouldn't answer. That's okay. I will never tell him how much I love that about him. He doesn't need to know. It might change the dynamic.
I could see Scott looking at my hard clit, and I said, "You'd beg for even a taste, wouldn't you? To feel what he does to me? But it's not going to happen. You can sit there with your silly hard-on...which you should be ashamed of, while I go to him. Again. And again."
I stood and left him there like that. I got myself ready and headed out the door. I drove to Shane's as wet as I have ever been, thinking about Scott at home, alone, fingers wrapped around his humiliating erection, imagining Shane's cock replacing him a little bit more with each stroke of his cock in my pussy, and that made my pussy drip more.
Why is this a turn-on? I have no idea. Why does Scott get a raging hard-on when he knows I want Shane more than I do him? Again, I don't know. I don't care. We are both obviously into some serious kinks that most people would run from. Again, I don't care. All I want is Scott to cum, picturing me riding Shane's younger, stronger body. Knowing his boss, the man he now reports to is the only one who makes me scream. That's the power of the pussy...and I like the way I use that power on Scott. Scott's face will say that he doesn't feel the same, but it's obvious his dick feels the same way I do. How weird that must be to have your brain say one thing, and your dick do the complete opposite. It never ceases to amaze me how Scott's dick can get hard, knowing I would rather be with another man. It's what I call our "marriage-saver shame boner." I can't imagine myself being married to anyone else. What are the odds I could find a guy who gets hard under these circumstances? Slim to none.
I'm 58 years old, and I want to fuck more than you do. That's not a guess—I'd bet money on it. Call me a sex addict, a pervert, whatever you want. Doesn't change a thing. I love sex. I think about it all the time, and I'm not ashamed to say it.
Guys think they can take me to some expensive restaurant, buy me a meal, and maybe I'll sleep with them. Please. I can pay for my food. I don't need your overpriced steak. I'd rather skip dinner and get right to it—take your cock and fuck myself stupid until I can't think straight. After that, we can eat. Whatever's in your fridge is fine. A sandwich, some leftovers, doesn't matter. If you've got nothing, we'll run to Wawa, grab something quick, and be done with it.
I'm not there for the food when I go to a nice restaurant with a guy. I'm thinking about what we could do under the table. Sliding my hand up your thigh, taking your cock out, maybe spreading my legs so I can feel your fingers inside of me...and maybe more. Seriously, at my age, if we're just sitting there eating, what's the point? I didn't get dressed up to talk about the weather. I want to feel something, something hard and leaking, something that will flood my guts in the not-too-distant future with cum.
Dating has become a joke. Men see my age and think I'm some sweet older lady who wants flowers and slow dances. No. The only slow dance I want to do is with the head of your dick dancing in my throat. I don't care about romance. I care about getting off. My kids are grown, my bills are paid, and I don't have time for silly games. I know what I want, and I'm not shy about it. I don't have the time to be timid.
People act like women my age should be quiet, act proper, maybe knit, or some other silly crap. Screw that. I'm 58, my pussy is wetter than it's ever been. I'm not slowing down—I'm just getting started. So, guys, don't waste my time with fancy dinners. Please take me to bed, the couch, or the back of your car. I'd rather fuck first, then, if you fucked me good enough, we just might be hungry. And women my age? Stop hiding. If you want dick, go get it. Life's too short to waste available and willing hard cock. Your pussy will thank you. This has been a public service announcement. Please resume your normal activities.
I have Shane now, and yes, he's half my age, and yes, it is getting serious, and I want it to. I hope it goes way further. You would think that would be enough...but it's not. I keep thinking about other men, wanting their cocks inside me, wanting to feel their cum flood my body. And like a cliche, I have this fantasy about a handsome cop pulling me over. It's the standard porn movie scenario, but I would love for it to really happen. Me taking his thick cock in my mouth, sucking until he cums down my throat. I want it to go further than that. I want him bending me over his car, fucking me hard, his cum pouring into me, and in my mind, I would just beg for more. And then there is the one constant part of all my whacked-out fantasies. Afterward, I'd go home and tell Scott, so casually, like it's nothing: "A cop fucked me today. After I sucked his dick, he slipped his dick in me and filled me with his cum, and I loved every second." The thought of saying that, watching Scott's face drop and his cock harden, it's like a drug. I can't stop thinking about it. I need it.
Look, I spent the night last night with Shane, and it was unreal. Waking up this morning, my pussy was still slippery from his cum, my ass stretched from how he owned it with his dick, and I felt like a goddamn queen. Shane was stretched out nude, sleeping, his limp dick just lying there, practically begging me to suck it dry. I wanted to, bad, but life got in the way. So I just kissed the tip, a little tease for myself, got dressed, and headed home. Knowing I'll get to drink his cum later today, that it'll taste even better after craving it all day, has me all kinds of worked up. It's not just the sex. It's the raw emotions and deep feelings that the sex has created. Shane can have me whenever he wants...and I want him to have me every day. It's also knowing I will go home and share my thoughts with my husband, who I converted into a roommate. A perfect roommate at that.
Quit reading if my obsession with humiliating Scott makes you cringe because today's gonna be brutal for him, and I've got butterflies for him just thinking about it. My husband's at the shop all day, working under Shane, who I spent last night with, who fucked me senseless. Shane snatched the job Scott wanted, reversing the roles of Scott from boss to employee. I can't stop picturing Scott sitting across from Shane, knowing that cock was inside me, knowing I screamed Shane's name. The mental emasculation must be crushing, like his balls are shrinking with every second. Last night, in a post-cum haze, I told Shane I loved him—don't know if I meant it, but it felt like it would be a good punch in the balls for Scott later. And I'm just getting started. I'm heading to the shop for a lunch date with Shane. Everyone's gonna see me walk in, think I'm there for Scott, then watch me leave with Shane while Scott sits there, drowning in shame. In minutes, I'll have Shane's cock in my mouth, and every employee will know Scott's wife chose his boss. Just thinking about how pitiful they will feel for him, whispering about how "She's with Shane and Scott's just taking it...while his wife is taking it!" makes my head spin and my clit stupid hard. I don't know why it gets me so wet, but I'm very high on the power of making Scott feel small. I know...harsh. But I'm an addict, so it's not going to stop.
And here's the kicker that really gets me. When I tell Scott I love Shane more and when I go on about how I crave Shane's cum inside me, Scott's face looks like I've punched him, but his dick gets hard. It's like his body's betraying him, popping a shame boner while his heart's breaking. Why the fuck does that happen? Part of me thinks it's because he's wired to get off on the humiliation like the pain of being replaced by a younger, hotter guy who flips some twisted switch. Maybe it's the raw sex talk—my words hit him hard and his body can't help but react. Or maybe it's the power dynamic, Shane being everything Scott isn't, or at least not anymore. Shane has become dominant, confident, and in charge. Whatever it is, that erection is proof I'm winning, that I'm tearing him down, and it drives me wild. Seeing his dick hard while his eyes scream hurt makes my clit throb like nothing else. I feel like I'm Scott's puppet master, pulling strings to make his dick betray him, and the sexual high of that kind of control is better than any orgasm. I'm obsessed with pushing it further, seeing how much he can take, how hard he'll get when I rub his face in it. It's fucked up, and I can't get enough.
I told Jake he had been replaced and moved to the number 2 spot. He retaliated by letting me drink a heavy load of his sperm.
I walked into Jake's office and closed the door. He had a big smile for me as I was dressed how he liked me to be. I walked over to him, straddled him, we kissed, and guided his hand under my dress so he could feel my hard clit. I have no idea why telling Jake that he has joined the club with Scott, not exactly like Scott, but still, Jake was in the process of being reduced. I like that word. Reduced. It gives me a mental picture of making him smaller and giving me more power over him. I worked his cock out of his pants. It was still semi-soft but twitching and getting larger by the second. Then I grabbed it hard, squeezed it, and said "You are second to Shane now, it's up to you what you want to do. I can leave now, or you can accept being moved to number 2. His face was angry, and he said some things he shouldn't have, but I understand why. He has been replace by a man 15 years younger than him. His dick, however, didn't reflect what his mind was thinking. It was hard as a rock. I love how men get betrayed by their cock. It makes me wet thinking about it. I looked him in the eye with his dick in my hand and said, "Choose, second to Shane… or I leave." He gripped my hips and pulled me in, and I took that as acceptance. So, I pumped his dick, palm slapping it hard and working the head of his dick with my fingers. Jake's dick seemed as hard as I'd ever felt it. I leaned down, licked the leaking cum slit, swallowed the taste, then took him deep in my throat. He moaned, holding my head. I knew I had successfully reduced Jake with Shane, the same way Jake reduced Scott. What cums around goes around. I sucked harder, bobbing faster, feeling his dick twitch between my lips.
He started making weird noises, his hips began thrusting up, and I felt his balls tightening. I milked his balls with my hand as he pumped hot sperm, flooding my mouth. I swallowed every spurt and sucked his cock dry until he went limp. I pulled back and looked at him, and he was looking all pathetically cum stupid with a twinge of shame. I love that look. Guys can get so helpless if you make them cum so hard they lose their ability to think. I made him look at me by snapping my fingers, and I said, "Second place," and when I caught his eye, I licked the leftover cum from my lips, and I said, Second place tastes good on you." I pulled my dress down, licked his pussy slick finger, and walked out, and all he could do was say my name.
Jake's decision is final. He knows it. I know it. He will have to be content in his role now—second to Shane. I'm sure he will have no complaints. The power shift went smoother than I thought. No more sneaking around; Shane's out in the open with Jake. It's all laid out, and it's exactly how I wanted it.
Honestly, I can't wait to see where this goes. I have three main men in my life, all on the same page that I want them to be. Things are about to get wild, maybe a little out of control. I hope so! Let the games begin.
I just thought that I would let you know what my plans are for the day and my Shane and Jake issues 😉 I will keep you all posted on happens with Jake today, hopefully it all works out in my favor 😜
Shane's cock was buried deep inside me as I sat on his lap, harder than I think I have ever felt it. It got hard as a rock the second I congratulated him on getting his new promotion and position at the shop. The way he made out with me was amazing. It felt like this was way more than just an awesome sex relationship. I liked that. So much so that I pulled his pants down and sat him down on the chair, I crawled on top of him and slipped his dick in my guts. With his tongue in my mouth and his dick stretching my pussy I don't think I ever wanted Shane as badly as I did right then. It was perfect like he felt I was now his property for good. He ground his dick around inside of me while he told me how much he wanted me to be his. I promised him I was. With the head of dick touching my stomach from inside me, he asked me if I liked knowing he had taken the job my husband wanted from him. It's all I could take, and I came so hard my brain turned off. That was my answer.
Shane laid me on my back, and my legs, as usual, opened up wide for his dick. I really liked the way Shane smiled when he watched my legs open like a reflex to let Shane breed my hole. I felt like Shane's trophy. The thought of knowing the man with his cock pumping inside of me has beaten Scott at every turn, making Scott in my mind just another guy I talk with now and then. I pictured Scott at home, his body betraying his emotions, jerking on his shame boner at the thought of me being with Shane as a real couple now.
Shane worked his dick in and out of my hole, kissing me and asking me if he meant more to him than Scott did. It's hard to say yes to these things...because its not really true. But in a way, it also is, and when I said "yes," it felt good! It must be the same for Shane because when I said yes, he started shooting his cum inside of me. I love nothing more than feeling his sperm spread through my insides. It feels so exquisite physically and mentally. Like it has joined us together, pushing Scott to the outside. I thought I might get another cum from it, but it wasn't meant to be. Sometimes when I cum extremely hard and long, I need an hour or so before I can cum again. Shane kept his dick in me until it went soft and fell out, along with the jizz he left inside of me. It was amazing!
We talked about how easy it will be to make Scott understand his position in life now and the things we are going to put him through. Shane flipped things around on Scott. Shane went from being the guy fucking his boss's wife to being Scott's boss and taking his wife, that being me, and making himself my number one man. That's a lot to wrap my mind around but fuck me, it sounds so perfect. I didn't think things could get any better.
Shane is already planning the next meeting with Scott. He will make sure every order he places with him will also include a firm reminder of how he now owns me. I get this weird nervous feeling for Scott... it's a feeling that makes my pussy wet. Just saying.
This is perfect. Shane got the job that Scott wanted. I had no idea this was even a possibility. I can feel the wetness pooling in my pants just thinking about it. I'm getting ready to leave to go congratulate Shane. I'm going to mentally smile while I suck him off in celebration of his victory. This doesn't sound good for my moral character, but I can't stop fingering myself, thinking how Scott is at home and wondering why he couldn't get the job. All I can think about is Shane giving Scott his orders just minutes after I begged Shane to empty his sperm down my throat. Holy crap...that fires me up in ways I can't describe.
This is something I never saw coming. Scott and Shane don't technically work for the same company. I didn't even know Shane was looking for the job but Shane's success is a surprising turn-on. Fuck, it's so hot knowing that Shane, who in reality is Scott's rival, is reducing him to nothing...taking his job and me! The mental power is indescribable, and it's such a turn-on. Every time I'm with Shane, I won't be able to stop thinking about it. Knowing that he's beaten Scott at every turn, that he's taken the job that Scott wanted, all while he's slipping his dick down my throat and in my pussy. Well, it's something I never saw coming! And I'm going to ride it hard...both the situation and Shane's dick. When I see Shane, the only thing I want to do, no, the only thing I need to do, is open my legs and let him empty his testicles in my guts. I need to feel his sperm coat my insides, breeding me, taking me from my husband. I am so turned on at the thought that Shane has taken what he wanted and proved himself to be the better, dominant man, the man I need. He's won. He knows he's won, and he is going to enjoy his prize...which is me. And I can't think of anything hotter!
And Scott, he's at home. I'm sure his body will betray him...again. I love picturing him holding his sad shame boner in his hand. Pathetically jerking it at the thought of me with Shane. The man half his age who has beaten and outclassed him not only at work but with me both sexually and emotionally. What makes my clit throb is knowing Scott is powerless to stop it. I wish I could see his face while he jerks himself off until he embarrasses himself by cumming at the thought of me belonging to Shane! Shit, I'm going to cum hard today!
I'm driving through Daytona, and I spot some guy at a stoplight, a younger guy in a lifted truck. It doesn't matter who he is—my brain's already there: "I wonder what his cock looks like." It's always my first thought, never him eating me out or touching me. Just his dick in my mouth. I love the thought of thinking his first experience with me would be me kneeling in front of him, the head of his dick just resting in my mouth, waiting patiently for that moment his balls let go so I can drink his sperm. It makes my clit hard just thinking about it.
I admit my mind shifts to him inside me. That feeling when a cock pushes in, it's this tight, amazingly sexy stretch, then a deep fullness lets me know I'm a woman. And yes, I'm wet just thinking about it. What isn't hot about wishing the guy in the truck beside me at the light would breed like a MILF in heat. I can assure you my pussy finds it wildly hot.
And as always, the light changes, and he's gone, but my pussy doesn't accept that. It's not about him. It's the thought of his cock in my mouth or pumping my guts in one hole or the other. I will say for me, the hottest part is thinking about kneeling in front of him, waiting for that hot rush of cum for me to drink. Makes my clit pulse every time.
I wish it were as easy to find a guy as so many people think it is. It's not. I rarely get approached, and typically, I have to be the aggressor. I know half of you are saying, "Bullshit." or "Pick me!" If only it were that easy. What am I looking for in a guy? Fuck if I know. It seems to change instantly, depending on the guy. Do I want to fuck the snot out of a guy I find wildly attractive without knowing anything about him or his personality? I do. No questions asked. Like you, if I find someone wildly attractive, my legs want to spread wide open immediately, no questions asked. Rob would be one of those guys. Perfect to look at with a 9-inch beautiful cock. I still fuck him, even though he can be a real asshole from time to time. Then there was, I think his name was Chuck? I can't even remember. Big heavy guy, not attractive, but enjoyable to be around. He ended up having the most enormous cock I have ever had the pleasure of ruining my insides with. He got weird in a physical way, so he had to go. Wish that hadn't happened, but it did. What's my point? I don't have a type. I don't think I ever did. I do have some rules. Rule number one is they have to live locally, no more than 15 or 20 minutes away. Rule number two. They don't endlessly text...I hate that. Rule number 3. They have their own place. I think that is pretty much it.
Just getting warmed up and stretched out. Hopefully I get live cock today but just incase I don't, I can't say that I didn't get fucked today 😜 Hope you enjoy!
No, Jake isn't gone forever. He's just gotten predictable and honestly boring. Doesn't mean I still don't have feelings for him, not to mention my pussy is still madly in love with his dick, but it does feel like maybe we have run our course. Jake is heavily into his work, career, and the spoils that lifestyle brings, and I respect that in a big way... I'm just not on the same path. I don't care about material things all that much, and I'm not looking for someone who needs those things to the point of working 7 days a week to get them. I have what I need, and it's enough for me. Shane is a better fit. Plus, he's half my age and as pervy as it sounds...I like that in a very sexual way. I'll keep you posted.
It's been days since Jeep Week, and I'm still thinking about that twenty-year-old beach god. His body is seared in my head, and my pussy's throwing a tantrum because it didn't get to feed on his cum. I could have emptied his testicles in such a way it would have changed his life forever...for the better.
I might have come off as dick-desperate. I mean, I handed my number over to him in front of his father, so maybe I was a little starved for cock. I did have visions of being his personal fuck toy, wanting to make him smile by emptying his balls in any way he wanted me to. But...crickets. No text, no call, zip. I'd have flung my legs open faster than you can say "beach bod" and let him use me like his own private playground. I'm pointing the finger at his dad, that forty-four-year-old fun-sucker, probably butt hurt that I didn't bat my eyes at him so he cock blocked me like a petty chaperone. It's way easier to believe that than admit the kid might've just swiped left on me—though, ouch, that's possible. My ego's limping, but I'm sticking with the dad-as-villain story. It's less depressing than thinking about his cock might have ghosted me...which is causing my pussy to stage a daily protest at the injustice of it all.
Sitting here with a load of Shane's cum on my belly and another still slick in my pussy, I'll be honest. It's not just the sex...though, that has suddenly become incredible in the best of ways, but I can't get enough of Shane and his friends. They're all in their 20s and 30s, and I'm older, as in 58, so it's quite the swing. But I've been invited into their group of about 20 people—talking with them, laughing, jeeps kicking up mud. What drives me wild is the mental buzz, knowing they know Shane fucking me raw, pumping his cum into me every chance he gets. That thought twists my head and makes my pussy drip, a hot, slick drool that soaks my shorts and slides down my thigh because I never wear panties. And Shane ensures they know I'm his now, not my husband's. They all know Scott. They have to work with him now and then. It's such a massive power shift, Shane, taking me from Scott. It makes me want to drop to my knees and suck the cum straight out of Shane's balls just thinking about it.
Shane's not shy about it. He pulls me onto his lap in front of them; his hands are all over me, sliding over my hips and my thighs, making sure everyone knows I am his. Claiming me while they watch. I can't get enough of how he kisses me in front of Shane's buddies, as well as knowing Scott is my husband. It makes my pussy throb, wet and messy, because they know Shane's dick owns me now. Their smirks, their glances, it's like they're picturing him pounding me, and my brain lights up with it, my clit so hard I can barely sit still. The idea that they're thinking of Scott knowing I've traded him for Shane's cock, sends a jolt through me, my juices dripping, my body begging for more.
We slip away sometimes, and they know why. Last time, Shane bent me over in a back room, his cock stretching me in amazing ways. I love the way Shane never asks if he can cum inside of me, he just does, and when Shane came this time, his dick pumped his jizz in me so deep it was like he was marking my pussy as his, taking it away from Scott. Walking back, my pussy still stretched and messy from his load leaking inside me, I catch their looks. That twisted, electric rush hits—knowing they're imagining Shane's dick inside of me, his sperm claiming me. I always wonder what they think about me being married to a man they know, and how Shane is taking me from him. I wish someone would bring it up. I would probably cum from the mental image of their judgment, their envy, making me so wet it's almost unbearable. Still, I love how Shane's hand stays on me when we talk with his friends. His grip is saying, "She's mine," and it fuels my twisted kinks, making me want to worship his cock, and drain him dry right there.
The other night, Shane's arm was around me, his fingers brushing my thigh in front of them all, and one of his friends—Scott's coworker—muttered, "Shane's the luckiest bastard, having you." Just hearing that made my heart beat fast, my pussy clenched, and I swear I could've cum from the words alone. It's like they have accepted that I belong with Shane. We are a perfect fit. It's hard to write this thinking about that because my mind gets lost in the filthy thrill of belonging to him, of choosing his cock over my husband's. 2025 has been a fantastic year for me...I hope it only gets better!
Shane’s place was a quick drive, but with his hand teasing my thigh, my pussy was soaked from the high of leaving Scott crushed in the kitchen. We barely got inside before I was on my knees, ripping his jeans open. His dick—bigger than Scott’s, a touch smaller than Jake’s, but thick and perfect—made my mouth water. I sucked him deep to the point it made my throat hurt. I wish I had a bigger mouth. It’s probably good I don’t, or I’d be sucking dick balls deep 24/7. I kept the head of his dick in my mouth and swirled my tongue around the head until he groaned and came. His cum was warm and slimy and felt perfect, sliding down my throat. I swallowed it all, my pussy throbbing from the taste.
Still catching my breath, I looked up at Shane and told him I was thinking about him yesterday while Scott was fucking me. His face tightened, uncomfortable, but then he started asking questions. He wanted to know about me and Scott, if I loved him. I said I do, but it’s different—I’m drawn to Shane and want to see where this goes. I told him I’d be fine making Scott just some guy I talk to now and then, even if we share a house. The thought of Scott being reduced to just a roommate hit me hard. Knowing I’m shredding his manhood by choosing Shane makes my pussy ache for Shane even more. It’s like every bit of power I take from Scott fuels my hunger for Shane.
We moved to the couch, clothes gone, and Shane spread me open, his cock sliding in slow, then slamming deep. His dick stretched me so perfectly, filled me like I was meant for his cock, and sent my body into overdrive. My pussy gripped him, drooling, as he fucked me hard, and then it hit—an orgasm so intense it blanked my mind. I might have even screamed his name it was that good. It was the strongest cum I’ve ever had, stronger than anything with Scott or Jake. It rewired me for Shane.
After, sweaty and tangled up, Shane pulled me close, fingers tracing my skin. We talked—not just sex, but us. He wants a real relationship, something serious. His eyes locked on mine; he said he wouldn’t share me—not with Scott or Jake. He doesn’t want me near Jake, doesn’t want Scott touching me, not even to jerk off while I watch. He said it’d gut him knowing his girlfriend’s naked in front of another man. I could see it in his face, and it was like he was scared I’d say no. I didn’t. I agreed, no question. Shane’s my everything—his dick, his laugh, the way he makes me feel like his queen. Scott’s my past, Jake’s done. Shane’s my number one now, and I’m all in.
Jeep Week is in full swing. I took my Wrangler and parked with about a thousand other Jeeps on the beach. I'm fifty-eight, bikini on, sitting on the hood, staring at a guy I wasn't even sure was legal. He made it hard not to look at him because he was lean and cut, and that left me looking at his shorts, thinking his cock just had to be perfect, thick, made to stretch me wide and ruin me. I won't lie. It made my pussy wet and my mind wetter. I got so caught up I lost track of everything and everyone else... a perv MILF with her pussy throbbing focused only on him.
And then his father came trailing behind him. He was in his 40s, I later found out he was 44, and after his son asked me about my Jeep, His dad chimed in, chatting about nothing. The dad is younger than me, but I'm not here for him. He probably sees me staring at his son like I'm ready to suck him until he deflates, and I'm half-laughing, half-cringing at my perverted thoughts. My pussy is screaming for this kid—mouth, pussy, every inch of me dying to feel his dick inside me. That made my bikini stick to my lips, sloppy wet from the ideas running through my mind.
I answered a few more questions from him, ignoring his father, and he flashed me a smile that made my clit hard as a rock. And as you may know, if my clit is hard...my nips are just as hard, giving them both a show. I couldn't help myself. All I could think was how happy I'd be emptying his balls, letting him use me like a fuck toy. I kept thinking how hot it would be to let a 21 yr old fuck me brain-dead. His father conveniently kept bringing his age up as if it were more appropriate for me to focus my attention on him. Not a chance. Letting a 21-year-old breed me like he owned me is maddening sexy. I imagined his cock in my mouth, throat working to take him deep, every twitch of his dick on my tongue making my pussy sing. I'd suck him until he was begging me to drink his jizz, and, lucky him, my only goal would be to drain him dry.
Then out of nowhere, I get this mental picture of him bending me over the Jeep, cock slamming into me, that deep stretch filling my guts. Fucking me senseless until my legs get like jello, and I end up begging for him to pump cum inside me, leaving me a hot, cummy well, bred mess. I so wanted to be his MILF toy, used hard, marked with his jizz, and a hell of a story to tell all his friends. I like the thought of being the Hot, old slut that will fuck the dick off a 21 yr old, ruining him for all silly chicks his age to follow.
As embarrassing as it was, my pussy was running the show, and I blurt out to the 21 yr old, making sure the father knew he was the third wheel in all of this, "Can I give you my number?" I think my face might have turned red...talk about being obvious. That's what happens when I get overpowered by my pussy. Seriously, though, I need this. He smiled at me and handed me his phone, and I somehow got my number tapped in. His father is staring at me like I'm some feral MILF gone wild. I get it... I'm 58, he's 21, and I'm practically begging him to slip his dick in me. But...he's legal, way better looking than his father, and that 21 yr old body...makes my mouth water...practically dying to feel his cum pumping into me. Am I unhinged? I am when I'm worked up like this...But I love it and wouldn't have it any other way. Fuck...I hope he gets hold of me! Let you know!
