Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 10

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The Lingerie: What my hubby didn't like, others did.
9.5k words
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Part 10 of the 12 part series

Updated 10/24/2022
Created 05/15/2011
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I'm Melanie. I'm a 30 year old, married slut who cheats on her husband almost daily, if not even more often than that, because he can't come close to satisfying me and I can't possibly get enough cock anyway. This is another entry in my memoirs.

At the time I'm writing this, I've got about eight to ten guys who I count as "boyfriends" -- guys I fuck somewhat regularly. I decided to write down how I got here -- the doting, boring suburban housewife to the cheating, cock-loving little bitch that I know I am -- because I know how impressed many guys are with me. I've done some really, ridiculously naughty things. Really depraved, outrageous things. Two years ago, before all this started, I barely even had fantasies about some of the things I've done.

I can't get enough attention from hung, sexy men (and hot ladies too!). I want every reader of this to crave me, as much as I crave the men in my life. Don't you want me? My petite 125 pound frame, my long dark hair and slender, triangular face, my hot small ass, my gorgeous C-cup tits. I'm here for you, baby, are you man enough to please me, hmm?

So go on, grab your dick (or jam your fingers in your twat), read on and I hope you get off as hard as I have!

* * * *

(This covers about a two-week period that started just over two months ago, late this past April.)

I'd been cheating on my ignorant, small-dicked hubby with a dozen or so men (and a couple of women) for about nine months. It had always been about me, I mean, doing what I wanted to do, because it felt great and made me feel alive and vibrant. However, for those couple of weeks, my sex with others had an edge to it -- a secret one, only I knew it, but it was mean. I mean, I was being mean to my husband, even though he had no fucking clue. I did, and that turned me on even more.

The acorn for this oak tree started, as did most of my affairs, online. I'd been trading emails with a hot married guy from online, Jim, who was about 50 years old, had a boring, fat, prudish wife, and wanted to take some time off of work and fuck me silly. He had video clips of himself masturbating and also fucking a "soccer mom" he met online, and while he wasn't the most handsome man, he carried himself very sexually and got my pussy wanting some action from his dick. We had a date set up, to meet at the mall near me then "take it from there." I got there early and, in a really horny mood, bought myself a too-expensive, slutty black bra and g-string thong at VS. Back when I was a good, doting suburban wife, I'd have looked at it and marveled that anyone would wear such a thing, but I never would have bought it -- much less worn it -- for fear the three-digit purchase price would send my husband into orbit. Over time, his concerns about our budget were less important to me than the tingling sensation shooting from my crotch to my nipples. Wow, I'd look great in that outfit, I should get it for Jim.

Buying the matching bra and thong set, I found a restroom in the mall and quickly changed into it in the stall. Yes, that meant I had to get completely nude -- taking off my white bra and red thong, strapping on the new ones, and getting dressed again. I felt so slutty doing it, my pussy was drenched by the time I was ready to leave the stall. I couldn't wait to meet Jim and fuck his brains out, after he saw me in the bra and thong.

Only, no sooner had I put it on in a bathroom stall when I got an email from him, saying he had to take a rain check on our date. Fuck! He was really nice about it, he called me two minutes later, something came up at work. He PROMISED to make it up to me.

That left me in one fucking horny, somewhat irritated mood all day. Screwing around on the computer didn't help. I went to the gym, flirted with the manager there whom I'd fucked before, Hector, but he didn't get off from work until 8 that night so he wasn't an option for my pussy that day either. I even flirted with a cute woman working out at the gym, going so far as to offer to get drinks with her, but she politely declined. By nightfall, having pretended to be the good wife of my husband for a couple of hours, I was dying to get laid hard. My husband isn't a very good fuck and his cock absolutely does not satisfy me, but he was my only option.

I was still wearing my new bra and thong. Hubby was sitting in bed watching the late-night news, and I came into the bedroom wearing only the new lingerie. I spun around, did a little dance for him, getting his little pecker hard while shaking my ass in the thong and touching my big tits in the see-through black bra. I was on fire, really teasing him, grinding my wet crotch over his penis through his pajamas and my thong. "C'mon baby, don't you WANT me," I teased him, even dry-humping him, also sliding his smallish pecker between my tight, soft asscheeks. "Your wife is hot for cock, sweetie, gimme it!"

Hubby obliged, but I'd turned him on too much. He came in like five minutes. I was still wearing the thong and bra, I'd started fucking him without getting undressed, hoping to do that later. He didn't last long enough. My husband is a one-time-only fucker, so when he came in me, that was it. He certainly wasn't going to lick or finger my pussy at that point, with his sperm in it. We were done.

Shit was I frustrated! Not just sexually, but with his lack of attention. He didn't notice I was in a new bra and thong, and a very sexy, slutty one. He seemed to tolerate me teasing him, but I think he knew it was going to reduce his performance, and he was right.

My husband wouldn't particularly notice me in a hot new outfit? Well, there were plenty of guys -- and girls -- who would do that.

The next morning, mad and really extremely horny, I took photos of myself in the bra and thong, just a few very sexy ones. Then I emailed them to about 10 guys I'd met online, plus one female, telling them to react to my photos and tell me what they'd want to do to me. I was in the mood to be worshipped, I was fishing for complements, that was for sure. (To any women reading this -- I highly recommend you do that, I mean, send pictures of yourself to your online boyfriends unsolicited, you'll love the reactions!)

Over the course of the next few days, I got responses from my boyfriends and Tawney, and everyone pretty much told me how they wanted to fuck me. The exchanges led to a series of phonesex and Skype or iPhone video fucks I had with several of my online lovers -- Tawney, Chuck, Adam and David that very week; and it convinced another one of them, Mark, to finally take another afternoon off from work to come fuck me again.

So, this very same bra/thong set that barely registered a blip in my husband's radar was going to get a lot of use. And I mean a LOT of use.

The guy who stood me up, and for whom I originally bought the lingerie, Jim, offered to make it up to me by taking me to a fancy lunch at a four-star restaurant downtown. Actually, he mentioned a few places, including ones I'd visited with my gal pal Blayne. But, feeling frisky, I asked him to pick the most expensive and romantic place, and I'd meet him there. And get a hotel room, I told him, not so jokingly.

Jim is -- well, it wasn't my normal affair. Like, men online usually contact me just for sex, and I'm all about getting naked and having a ton of fun. Married men, especially, usually don't have time, interest or incentive for "getting to know you" or long lunches and boring stuff like that. That's for people who are dating. I like to fuck hot men I don't know, and I want them to fuck me, and so other than short meals because I'm hungry or because I want to check out a guy, I don't do long, romantic lunches.

But, besides some perverted emails and the nasty action photos he sent me, Jim proved to be a gentleman. Almost apologetic and bashful when he talked to me on the phone, he wasn't as aggressive as I'd assumed he would be. I was a lot younger than his wife, and way prettier than her, so I thought I made him nervous. It was endearing, and I probably was more flirty and girlish than normal, soothing him and complementing his ego, all before even meeting him.

Lunch was five courses, and it took like three hours, it was an event unto itself. Jim was very distinguished, sitting across from me at the table wearing a dress shirt and slacks, while we were serviced by old French guys. I was wearing a low-cut dress that was tight on my slender hips, and with my black bra and thong on underneath it, I was feeling like quite the young slut with him. Nothing in the conversation was particularly sexy; actually, Jim talked a lot about his wife, his problems with her, stuff guys normally don't do when meeting women from the Internet (at least with me). I opened up about my husband too, but didn't really let on how often I cheated on him.

Only over dessert -- I had crushed strawberries with a cream and crumbled topping, it was divine -- did the conversation really get sexual. From the opened collar of his dress shirt, I could see the dark, curly hair on his meaty chest, and the bulges of his broad shoulders. He had grown a small mustache, his brow was always furled down like he was constantly worried about something. Awww, yeah, he was like a Nick bear. My sexual arousal had sparked, sitting there eating dessert and looking at him talking to me, so I became the aggressor. "Baby," I whispered to him, so no one near us could hear, "did you get a hotel room -- or, it's okay if you didn't, you gonna take me home now?"

Jim blinked, smiling, that look in his eye. "I didn't get a room, I can if you want. You need to get home?"

"Mmm hmm," I purred, stretching my foot out under the table sans shoe, finding his thigh, rubbing it with the sole of my small, stocking-clad foot, "I do, I need to show you how badly I want you to fuck me."

Actually, that was the hottest moment of the day, even considering we had sex. Awkwardly, we'd both driven in separate cars, so he had to follow me home. In my house, he was sort of keeping his distance from me, eyeing me warily, as I showed him around and finally led him into the bedroom. There, I dropped to my knees, unzipping his pants and taking out his decent, six-inch erection, swollen for me. I sucked it a while, looking up at him diffidently, wanting to really turn him on. "Am I prettier than your wife," I asked, my tongue running around his erection, "does she suck your cock for you, do I do it better?" I didn't have to ask, I knew all the answers, and he confirmed what I'd suspected. I was way hotter, and she never did anything sexually interesting.

That was stoking my fires, and it was time to take out the bra and thong and see if his reaction was different from my husband's. Getting him to lie on my bed naked, I stood on my knees at the end of the bed and peeled off the slinky dress I was in, watching his reaction. His eyes were popping out of his head. I blushed, seeing how he was so excited to see me strip, and then I did a little spin on the bed, letting him ogle my ass and tits barely covered in the see-through, super-tight black lingerie. He was unbelievably complementary, rubbing his hard penis while telling me how much he loved my body, how incredibly sexy I was, how much I turned him on. It wasn't just his words, it was the look in his eye, the way he was in a trance seeing my just-turned-30 young body, my creamy flesh, a meal for his eyes. Now, that is the reaction I wanted!

I was so wet for him, as I crawled over him to straddle him and ride his 50-year-old, married penis, hoping to cap the romantic afternoon with a hot fuck.

Frankly, to be brutally honest, Jim wasn't much of a good fuck at all. He did look in my eyes the whole time, it was very personal and sweet of him, endearing. He didn't make a lot of noises or talk like most of my lovers do, he didn't seem to really be interested in me talking nasty, and I had to do most of the moving. We tried doggy-style a few moment, but he didn't like it; I spent most of the time riding him, and even when he was on top of me, he just pushed forward and I had to gyrate my little butt furiously to feel his cock moving inside me. But, for the record, he was better than my husband, and I felt good fucking him that day -- in the bra and thong, as a way of getting back at my husband.

I coaxed a couple of loads out of Jim's dick, both spurting into my vagina. He was apologetic about that, for some reason. I told him I loved it, and I sealed our sex by wrapping myself in the thong, containing his juices inside my pussy for the rest of the day.

Yeah, that was a way better time with the slutty black bra and thong than my husband had shown me.

And he wasn't the only one I fucked while wearing that very same bra and thong. It was sort of my "revenge tour," in a way, fucking a couple of different people while dressed in the slutty lingerie that my husband didn't fully appreciate.

Two afternoons after boning Jim in my marital bed, I got laid in a motel room. One of my "regular" fuck buddies I'd first met online was Mark, I'd been screwing him since before Thanksgiving or Halloween the previous year. We didn't hook up all that often, maybe once a month or less, but I never turned down one of his rare offers to fuck. He was only so-so looking -- kind of nerdy and dorky, rotund, lots of crazy curly blonde hair -- but had a great, great cock that could really last long in bed. And he talked nasty too, he was not shy to speak his mind online, on the phone or in bed. Seeing the photos of me in the bra and thong, he was motivated to take another afternoon off of work and sink his pork meat into my married twat.

Oddly, as I prepared to get dressed that day to meet him for sex, I had forgotten to put on the bra and thong. I had another, sexy lingerie set ready to go, a white one with a matching thigh-high stocking. I'd just come out of the bathroom, after showering and freshly shaving my vagina for Mark. Standing nude in front of my vanity, about to put on makeup, my husband called the house line. Hi honey, what's going on, I said to him, disinterested in anything he had to say but trying to sound affectionate. I was scanning my vanity, looking for some hot lipstick to pair with eye shadow. I have no idea what my husband said to me, or how long the conversation lasted.

But the call spurred my memory. I just recall thinking, hmm, my husband! Which made me think of the bra and thong, and Jim and Mark, and it obviously made sense. I should put on the bra and thong, which Mark loved in the photographs and the reason I had a date with him that day. Obviously, I had to put it on. When my husband finally hung up, I sat naked on my stool and put on my makeup, perfume and jewelry, then proceeded to get dressed starting with that black bra and thong. Mmm, the thong was crusty, soiled, from Jim's sperm that had been dripping out of my cunt the other day. I liked it, it felt nasty and slutty. The thong's string dug into my little asscrack, making my buttocks feel even more exposed. Oh, I hoped it would make Mark good and hard, I snickered to myself, slapping my asscheek once.

Mark and I met in the parking lot of a motel, he's already gotten a room for us. With Mark and me, there's nothing about our relationship other than sex. That's it. Hardly any talking, we said hello to each other and made out standing next to my old, beat-up little car (sooo embarrassing, my horrible car was), then we went straight to the motel room and fucked. Nothing but pure, hot sex, he was helping me cheat on my husband and he did a very good job of it.

As Mark stripped me on the bed, he uncovered that sexy bra and thong on me, and I told him he had to leave it on me for the rest of the afternoon. He gave me a quizzical look, and I actually admitted why -- I told him my husband gave me a lousy fuck in it, and I wanted revenge by getting screwed good and hard by a real stud with a wonderful prick. Prying the thong to the side to expose my shaved vagina, I purred to Mark, "C'mon, you can fuck me while I am wearing this, can't you?" For more encouragement I pulled the bra down, exposing my big breasts and hard pink nipples, the tight bra holding up my titties towards him. "Just do it for me, show me I look good in this?"

The curly-haired blonde pervert was yanking his erection out of his underwear, staring at me on the motel bed with my tits and twat exposed. "You look edible, you hot slut," slurred my lover, pulling his underwear off so he would be nude. "Can't believe your husband would ever give you a good lay, what's his fucking problem?"

I was reaching for his penis, on my fours, wanting to get that thick, hard boner into my hungry mouth. Mmm, it tasted dreamy, so salty and musky, throbbing heat against my lips and tongue. Moaning while I sucked Mark's erection, I slobbered all over his penis to make sure he was fully primed and ready to fuck me. "My hubby's problem is," I giggled with a whimsical, high voice, "that he doesn't have a big, hard cock like you do -- just a little one that goes limp too fast -- and his wife CRAVES big, hard cocks like yours!"

My lover and I were giggling as we looked at each other, he grabbed my long brown hair and bent down to kiss me hard, swirling his tongue around my mouth, sucking my tongue into his lips. When he broke the kiss, he snickered at his fucktoy for the day. "Well, if you crave it, then take it, use it."

"Mmm, I will, baby!" I promised, pulling his warm mouth down for another long, sexy kiss, my hand stroking his saliva-covered erection, feeling its girth and heat. Fuck the guy wanted me badly. We crawled onto the bed, where I turned around on my fours to show Mark my small ass and wet, bald vagina from the backside, my thong tight and pulled to the side, my knees open and butt pushed into the air. "C'mon, honey, give me what I need, fuck me with that big awesome cock of yours!"

We have great talk when Mark and I fuck. He crawled behind me, telling me how hot I looked still in the thong, my small ass and tight vagina waiting for him. Rubbing his cockhead on my twat, he gripped my hips firmly then sank his dick into me, drawing a howl of delight from my lungs. I grunted heavily, pushing back against him, feeling that thick pole sink into my wet hole, stretching me. "Ooh, yeah, baby, fuck me like that, your cock feels sooo good," I panted, looking back at him, seeing him admiring my ass in the thong. We built up a slow rhythm, fucking slowly but more deeply, he was still working his way into my pussy long past the point where my husband had an orgasm. "Mmm, Mark baby, you fuck me sooo good, you are sooo fucking good at fucking me -- damn, why can't my husband fuck me like you do?"

Mark's eyes were in a trance on my little hot asscheeks, his pole disappearing into my pussyhole below it. "Fuck, baby, like how that feels, huh -- I'm so deep, but I'm going deeper -- let your pussy feel how thick I am for you, you turn me on so much!"

"Yeah honey!" I had to put my head down on the bed, pushing my ass back, feeling that dick penetrating me even farther, so deep inside my hole. "Fuck me more, baby!"

After the doggy-style sex, then rolling around fucking and kissing, I ended up riding him cowgirl-style. My bra and thong were still on, my tits jiggling around but pushed out of shape by the bra bunched up underneath them. Mark was reaching up, groping my big married boobies, twirling fingertips around my sensitive nipples and even pinching and biting them while my twat rode his sexy shaft. He was so hard, he'd cummed in me once but didn't stop fucking, it was endless sex with Mark every time. I gazed at his eyes, watching him admire my petite, thin body and glorious tits, arching my back and riding up and down while fucking him. Mark fucked me with his eyes, not just his dick; he completely appreciated me, how I look, my husband had stopped doing that years ago. I had the feeling I could fuck Mark daily, and he'd still give me the same look every time, even ten years later.