Hello, Literotica. It's been a long time- over five years.
A lot has changed in my life since the last time I submitted a story. I'm now divorced. Both of my kids have moved away and have started building lives of their own. I haven't seen or communicated with either Nate or John in years.
But I'm proud to announce that over the past five years I've gotten a life. I'm no longer the bored, pampered, and ridiculously naive housewife with a high school education that previously posted here. In the Fall of 2009 I started college and four years later I'd earned a BA in Art and Entrepreneurial Studies. I now own and operate a small art gallery in a downtown beach area.
After not having shared anything here in a long time I've decided to finish up my story. I saw the film "Misery" for the first time in a while, thought to myself "Wow, I would be cool to be a writer...wait a minute, you *were* a writer and you could be one again".
So as the 80's hair metal song goes, here I go again, telling the Literotica world about my sexual adventures and a bit about my life.
Just as an FYI, if you 're interested in this story- Chapter 15- I strongly recommend you go back and read Chapters 1 - 14 first. Otherwise none of this will make sense.
I love getting feedback from readers- it's what keeps me writing! So please post a comment and let me know what you think! :)
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I'd always had a bit of an unusual relationship with my breasts. They grew out quickly when I was in junior high and my classmates gave me an awful nickname: "Zits and Tits", which was pronounced as one word, Zitsandtits. Big tits and a constant faceful of acne practically turned me into a recluse. I wore baggy clothing in an attempt to downplay my 36-DD breasts and became very paranoid whenever a guy tried to get close to me thinking he was after one thing. Well, two things. And I was usually right, as soon as a guy felt confident enough it would turn into a gropefest. I hated it, so for a while I stopped dating altogether.
Then it all materialized for me. I found the right dermatologist and for the first time in my life I had a clear facial complexion. I lost some weight, traded in my glasses for contacts, and the ugly duckling turned into a swan. But I was still a severe introvert.
I was lucky enough to meet a nice, persistent guy that asked me out three times before I said yes. He was very polite, very much a gentleman, and was building a successful career. The very first time I allowed him to touch my breasts and disrobe me was on the night he got on one knee, presented me with an expensive engagement ring, and proposed. Eight months later, Nate and I were married.
Then for almost twenty years many men lusted after my breasts. Many stared, some even whistled, but only one man could see them, touch them, lick them. That man lost interest, and then John came along and our affair changed my outlook on everything.
In Chapter 14 I'd mentioned that the sex between my husband and I had picked up over the past few months. Just as suddenly, it died again. I'd counted six weeks without sex with Nate, and with my daughter off to college and my son usually doing his own thing on Friday and Saturday nights Nate seemed to relish the opportunity of having an empty, private house to drink in rather than make love in. In addition, he seemed even more distant than usual.
It suddenly dawned on me that our sex life stopped cold as soon as he moved into his New York apartment. As that light went on, other one did as well...could Nate be having an affair?
The logical side of my brain knew this was ridiculous, or at least unlikely. But I soon became obsessed with the possibility that Nate could be living a double life. He'd been in New York for a long time, plenty of time for him to get bored and meet someone. He could have been in a relationship for a long time. He could even be living with her. It could be her apartment. I know my imagination has a habit of running wild, but I simply could not stop myself from fixating over this.
If any of that were happening, I'd seriously hurt him. Not just emotionally, but physically. I promised myself that if I caught Nate cheating I'd wait until he was drunk and defenseless and I'd knock his lights out.
Did I just win the World's Biggest Hypocrite Award? Maybe Nate was having an affair, but I was definitely having one. But that was Nate's fault- if he had shown just a touch more interest in our marriage and sex life...ah, screw the excuses. The bottom line was that he'd better not ever let me catch him screwing around.
My son was responsible enough to fend for himself for a few days so that I could make a surprise appearance at Nate's apartment. Nate's birthday coming up in less than a month, and as much as I was tempted to storm down to New York "this very minute" to check up on him I knew it would be smarter to wait and make my appearance look like a birthday surprise. Even if he wasn't screwing around, I wanted to see how "apartment living" was going for Nate, without him having the opportunity to prepare for my appearance.
Hey, I'm his wife- I have the right to know.
Around this time John seemed to be getting serious with a new woman. I knew not to ask about it, but most weekends either this girl would be at his place or he'd be gone, presumably at her's. That didn't mean he'd completely cut me off as he would still occasionally summon me upstairs for a romp but it was far less frequent, maybe once a week, and usually less intense than it once was. I was starting to think that I was being used, that John would only fuck me if his girlfriend was unavailable and he didn't feel like jerking off. Maybe he got tired of dominating me- that really does take work and effort.
On top of that I was beginning to feel uncomfortable with John, or at least with our situation. We'd been seeing each other on the side for a little over a year at this point. It wasn't long ago that I was perfectly willing to have this man in my life (and me in his bed) on any terms. But things change and for the first time I was wondering how long I'd want that to go on, and what it might be like if I told John that our affair had to end. Would he permit it? Would he blackmail me into staying in the role of his sex slave? That's exactly what I had knowingly set myself up for.
Then it dawned on me. Nate had asked about me about moving to New York. If I did that there would be no point in keeping the house in Maine that both John and I were living in (he as the upstairs tenant, of course) . I could tell John that it was Nate's call and that I had no say in the matter.
It was good knowing that I might have an out if I ever needed one.
But I hadn't given up on John yet and I was still very attracted to him. The man knew how to satisfy me in ways that I previously didn't even know existed. He made me do all of the things that I would have said no to just out of habit, but it was now those things that I craved and enjoyed the most. With Nate I always insisted on sex being gentle and I would chastise him if he were ever even just a little bit rough. Nate would fondle my tits but I discovered I liked it better when John squeezed them hard, and sometimes he would slap my tits and squeeze my nipples- and despite being large, my breasts are sensitive. Nate knew not to even ask for anal sex, but John took my ass without permission and now it was one of my favorite things sexually was having my ass spanked hard and my butthole fucked even harder. Whenever I was on my elbows and knees being assfucked from behind by John I would ask his permission to play with my pussy as he did so. Sometimes he'd say yes, and I'd have the most intense orgasms imaginable. When he denied permission I got off on the idea that this incredibly powerful man could withhold that pleasure from me.
