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!