Freedom 14

This is a true story describing my awakening to an unhappy marriage, finding love and sexual freedom in the arms of a man who was able to love me as I am.

Seventeen was TRULY too young to get married, but let's face it – at seventeen, no one was going to tell me how to run my life. I'd met William at the grocery store where I worked. He was 22, lived on his own and had a really fast car. I had a hot-head mother who loved to degrade me, a school where I was considered a nobody because my parents weren't rich and a dad I loved but was unable to see very much because of my dominating mother. I thought I fell in love with William but in reality was only looking for a way out of my own personal version of hell. On the positive side, his sexual appetite was wonderful and we were constantly screwing. I was young and the idea of getting plowed two times a day was amazing!

When he asked me to marry after two weeks, I accepted and we were married six weeks later. Mom was no problem, she was ready for me to go, but dad was not happy at all and told me I was making a huge mistake. He did walk me down the aisle though. In our church, you walk through a side entrance, through the back of the sanctuary and turn right in front of the big double doors before going to the alter. I should have taken it as a sign from God that this was a mistake when my friend Kristy opened the big door and almost hit my nose as I was about to make the turn. Luckily daddy caught the door with his hand before it got close. Nope, even that didn't stop me. We marched on and I moved into my new married life. That was August 22, 1987.

I had not returned to school that fall for my Senior year, despite having obtained a 1390 on my SATs, having a straight A average and being the class pet of all my teachers. I had to move to another county to start married life and just went to the local adult education center and obtained my GED. I kept my job, but was transferred to a store closer to home. I took a few classes at the local technical college, but had very little support from the hubby, so after taking them, I didn't go back.

It didn't take things long to change. My loving husband, who had been up and anxious for sex at the drop of a hat prior to marriage suddenly cut back drastically. Once a week was a privilege after the first year. Lucky for me, we went on vacation with his mom and step-dad over the summer of our second anniversary and his frustration at being kept in a room for 7 days with them made him ready to go. We didn't even make it home, but had to stop on the side of the road on I-20, and there my oldest son was conceived after maybe 3 minutes of his thrusting and grunting.

I was 19 years old, giving birth to my son and my moment of glory was ruined at the words of my loving spouse, "Damn, that was the grossest thing I've ever seen! It looked like chicken parts was falling out of you!" Just what I needed to hear. The doctor told me to wait six weeks before having intercourse. No problem, he wasn't interested anyway. It was a good six months before he wanted anything but blow jobs, stating that my breastfeeding was a real turn-off for him.

I settled into a happy monotony of working, and taking care of my son. I had moved on to a job as a paralegal for a small town attorney. Sex was still present, but his idea of foreplay consisted of taking our clothes off, my blowing him and maybe getting to ride for a while if I'd been a good girl. More often I was treated to a nice warm gush of cum sliding down my throat, him yawning saying how great it was and falling asleep.

These happy days lasted about six years and I changed jobs again, moving to a state agency, which allowed me a greater opportunity to meet people and I loved it. I became pregnant again, this time with twins. It was not an ideal pregnancy as I went into labor very early and had the babies at a little less than seven months. They were beautiful, but small and had to stay in the hospital for quite a while. I was proud and happy and imagining my perfect little life. William helped me come back to my senses once I got them home, reminding me that my tummy would probably never be flat again my D cup breasts were so bloated by milk that I looked like they could be used as flotation devices.

I started crying constantly, and he finally took me to the doctor. I'd been treated for depression as a teenager and once early in our marriage, but this time the doctor called it post-partum depression and they put me on Zoloft. Then they added Xanax. I still cried, and all I wanted to do was sleep, so they changed me to Prozac. During the next few years, I tested more medication than I care to remember. In 2003, I discovered emails between my loving husband and a dear friend. She had a penchant for having married men on leashes. These idiots would pay her bills, buy her furniture, basically anything she wanted. I had attended a party at her house one night a few weeks before the discovery and drove some friends home. On returning to her house, I walked in to find my husband, her and her boyfriend laying in bed together. They were fully clothed but cuddled up, spooning. They assured me they were just messing with me. God, what an idiot I was. Even after all this, I took him back. I had taken vows to remain with him, and I put my pride away and let him come back. He slept on the couch and I in the bed.

During this time, I began talking to a few friends at work about what was going on. One friend in particular, Joan, thought I just needed to spice up our sex life. Spice up? I'd never really worried about my own needs, having come about twice within the last five years. I was more concerned about his. I had no problem deep throating him and could literally bury his cock in my mouth and lick his balls at the same time. I had even stuffed both balls in my mouth and kept them there, licking, sucking, anything he wanted. I loved anal, as he seemed to think this was the kinkiest thing in the world. I listened to Joan talk, though, and took in what she had to say. It seems that there was a whole world of sex-toys out there – vibrators, dildos, etc. Vibrators? I'd never had one. She just looked at me and smiled.

One day, my boss came back from Joan's office with a box wrapped in gift paper. He told me Joan had insisted that I open this as soon as I got home. Thank goodness she wrapped it well, because inside that box, complete with a battery was a 3 in long 1 inch round vibrator. I called her because there was NO WAY I was sticking something up my cooter other than my husband's penis. That was cheating, right? She just giggled and told me to try rubbing it on my clit. I did and came within 30 seconds. When I say I came, I mean I came, juice going everywhere, pussy pulsing, clit throbbing, moaning and gasping for breath. Never had I orgasmed that way before. Even deep inside my cunt, the electricity and pulsing was amazing. I immediately found my new favorite hobby.

That night I pretty much jumped on my husband and went down on him. I rolled over, batted my eyes and asked him if he'd go down on me. I was informed that MEN don't do that, and he guided my mouth back to his dick which erupted shortly thereafter. No problem, as soon as he left the bedroom I found my new best friend and buzzed right into happy land.

We rocked on in pretty much the same mode until March of 2004. By this point my weight had escalated to over 200 lbs., my depression was really bad and my vibrator wasn't even enough to get me off. I'd lost even that small happiness. I talked to my doctor and she put me on a new depression medication which would also help my anxiety attacks AND had no sexual side effects. I tried it.

Within three weeks, I was able to have wonderful juicy climaxes again. After about six weeks, I began to see everything in a brand new light. Since when was I supposed to only give pleasure and not receive? Since when was he immune from helping in the house because he had a penis? Since when was it okay to push me into walls, choke me or slap me? I had a friend, Louise, who had just gotten out of a bad marriage and I finally woke up when she told me she'd known about the bruises on me for a while. Suddenly, I realized I was a human being and deserved better. Yep, I told him so too. He didn't take it very well, and basically told me that either I could get an attorney and file for divorce or he would. Fine. No problem.

One week later, he signed the papers and they were filed in the Court house. Louise went to church with an attorney and after he told her about my situation, he had the papers done in a matter of days. One of my clients was the daughter of the Judge to whom the case had been assigned. In GA, you can have divorce agreement and a judge will sign the Divorce decree anytime after 31 days. July 15, 2004, I was finally free. I had lost a lot of weight since I had begun taking my new medication, and the stress of staying so near my bastard of an ex-husband had taken it's toll. I'd lost nearly 60 lbs. and had been diagnosed with an ulcer. On the positive side – 60LBS!!! I felt great about that.

July 17th was the Saturday after our divorce. I was having a modular home put on property I owned and the divorce agreement allowed me to live in the family home until the modular was finished. I was awakened to discover William had taken the bedroom door off the hinges. I hopped in the shower and was going to head out of the house as quickly as possible. 30 minutes later I was on my way out when he stopped me and informed me that he knew I was going to become a whore and that I'd probably get piercings and be sucking dicks within a week. I looked at him and the rebel in me woke up. I told him "You know, that's a great idea, and you can pay for it". I grabbed a $50 bill out of his wallet and walked out the door. I used my cell phone and called another friend to find out where she'd had her tongue pierced. I called the shop and went immediately. A heavily tattooed girl name Misty met me at the door. I was very relieved to recognize her as a former client. I told her about what had happened, had a nice cry and asked her to pierce my tongue. She smiled and before I could blink, it was done, with very little pain. I was staring at it and finally started to smile. I'd finally done something just for me. It was my first baby-step on my own and I was proud.

Driving back home, I realized my tongue was swelling and new he'd only use that to laugh at me, or worse, beat my ass for acting like a whore. (Strange, the woman he cheated on me with had a pierced tongue.) I called my friend Louise and she said to come to her house.

I drove up in her yard as was shocked to see her friend Tom's truck in the drive way. I'd me Tom in February 2003. He had come into our office and I was lucky enough to be working the reception desk at the time. I could remember it so clearly. He was tall, a good six footer, dark skin (I'd thought maybe Hawaiian, but now know he is partially Native American), dark hair, a wide chest with massive shoulders and eyes that just sparkled when he spoke. I'm not kidding, I even remembered the shirt he'd had on that day, a dark charcoal gray long sleeve with a lone wolf on the left chest. I'd greeted him and immediately went back to tell Louise we had a hot one at the front counter. He and she had become fast friends and I found out quite a bit about him through the year and a half from Louise. He was a truck driver, but had taken a construction job later behind our office, building a retail store. He'd come to the back door and talk with Louise and I'd blush and leave. I know Louise knew I'd developed a crush, but I was married at the time and there was no way I would ever cheat. I found out he'd taken her to a sex club in Atlanta and heard stories from her about him being able to go on and on for hours. In my frustration, part of me hated her for living out the fantasies I wanted but he was the forbidden fruit to me and I was not going there because I was married.

Earlier in the Spring, his girlfriend of 16 months, Melody, had left him and I found him in our parking lot at work, waiting for us to open up so he could talk to Louise. He was crying real tears of pain. I told him to wait and I went inside and had her go out to him. She told me he had only thought he was in love, but the girl wasn't right for him. I knew he'd dated (and bedded) other women while he'd been dating her. It turns out that she left him because he had to take care of his children for two weeks while his ex wife was being treated for a medical problem. I'd met Melody. She was cute, but thin and dumb as a brick. She'd found a computer nerd who lived in our area and was moved in with him even before she'd told Tom.

When I saw him in her yard on July 17th, my heart leaped into my throat. I had been so attracted to him for so long. I wasn't wrong now – I was divorced. It wasn't like Louise had any claim to him, she was dating a guy. I decided to walk on in and just see what would happen. My mouth was swollen, and I was still a little jittery from the nervousness of having the piercing done. I walked in and he was asleep on her couch. I asked Louise if it was okay for me to stay and she said sure. She said she was getting ready for work, but to wake Tom up and talk for a while. He'd gone back to truck driving and had been gone all week. He was talking a nap while his clothes were washing. I patted him on the shoulder and he looked up at me over his left shoulder with those sleepy eyes and I had to fight the urge to crawl on top of him. I purposely sat down on the small sofa across the room from him.

Apparently Louise had been filling him in on my situation as well as she was filling me in on his. In fact, she laughed that her son had said that it would be neat if Mr. Tom and I got together. She kept getting ready and we made small talk. When she was ready to go to work at her second job, I got up to go to, but she stopped me telling me to stay as long as I needed to. I looked at Tom lying on the couch and sat back down. I told him how I'd tried to be a good, loyal wife, but it seemed that men only wanted women like Tammy. The woman my ex husband cheated with. I told him I was going to become that kind of woman – a bar whore. The bar-hopping, multiple partner types that used sex to get what they wanted. He said something to the effect of "Dumb men want those types". He told me that since his ex-girlfriend had left him, he'd decided to remain celibate until he was married. One comment was the next woman he slept with, he'd be married to. I almost felt guilty that my long-neglected vagina was beginning to cry for attention and my clit had decided to rise to the occasion. He told me how he had been to bars, picked up women (and been picked up). I admitted to knowing some of what had happened with him and Louise in Atlanta. We talked about his job and how his shoulders were sore from driving.

Always trying to be helpful, I suggested I could rub them for him. He smiled and I took that for a go-ahead. I sat beside him and slowly rubbed his shoulders, and allowed my fingers to rub the nape of his neck and trail into his hair, rubbing and pulling just slightly. He moaned and continued to lay still. I remember thinking how much easier it would be if he took his shirt off and advised him of such. He removed his shirt. Somehow, I decided that I could get better leverage if I sat on his ass and rubbed his now naked shoulders. God, they were perfect. I've always admired tall men with muscular shoulders and arms. He was my own personal version of male perfection. Sitting on his ass, my hands kneading his shoulders, rubbing lower on his back until I was brushing the top of his jeans.

I was becoming more and more aroused and our conversation was being directed toward his resolution to remain celibate until marriage. I showed him my tongue piercing and asked if oral sex was against the whole celibacy thing. Shortly after, he'd rolled over and I was grinding myself on his jeans. He said no, and stood up. I threw a pillow on the floor and proceeded to unzip his jeans and set his manhood free.

Upon seeing him, I realized that I'd been lied to for the 17 years of my marriage. My husband had maintained how he had such a huge cock. Sorry, the urge hit to call him and cuss him out at the moment my eyes feasted on the sight of the penis in front of me. I told him I wasn't sure if I could take that much in. He thought I meant because my tongue was swelling, but I told him that it was because he was huge. He laughed at me and said he was just average. Again, I wanted to grab a phone and tell Mr. Wormy off.

I admit it wasn't my best work, but he seemed to enjoy my mouth encasing him. I was sore, but wanted to try out the tongue ring on him to gauge his reaction. I was very pleased. We went like this for a few minutes and I was becoming hotter and hotter. I asked him if his vow of celibacy was carved in concrete and I saw him smiling.

I held his hand and led him into the bathroom. I told him I loved being taken from behind in a standing position. I bent over and he positioned himself behind me. I knew he was much bigger than I was accustomed to and was wondering if he'd fit. He pushed in slowly but determinedly. For the first time in my life, I felt filled. So filled in fact, that there was the slightest hint of pain mixed in. He began slowly moving in and out of me. I hung on to the side of the tub as his hands held my hips, moving me to his rhythm. The sensation was amazing and before long I was panting on the verge of orgasm. A REAL orgasm. One brought on by my lover, not my vibrator. It shook me and I moaned a little louder than I'd liked. He started asking if he could come. My first thought was WHAT? He asked again and I said yes. He pumped into me harder and started moving so fast. He held my hips and increased his speed and I could feel the stirrings of another orgasm. DAMN! Two orgasms in one session of sex? Unheard of. He slammed home and held me and moaned out. I felt him spilling into me and again my cunt pulsed. It was overwhelming. He pulled out. We'd been going for well over half an hour – even after I'd blown him. Strangely, he started apologizing, saying he usually went a lot longer. I just smiled and looked up in stunned silence. I couldn't believe anything could top that. I tried to clean myself up and found a slight tint of blood. I figured he was just so big.

We laid together on the couch and he held me, nuzzling into my neck and rubbing my arms, shoulders and back. I hadn't been held in so long. Our legs were entwined and the rubbing and touching began to arouse us all over again. We repeated our earlier performance in the bathroom, this time with him lasting even longer. I couldn't believe he was able to get hard again so fast.

Again, we cleaned up and went back to lying together on the couch. He asked me more about my life and I asked him about his. He knew I had children. He had two at about the same age range as mine. We laughed about how we'd met. I told him I remembered the shirt he had on and described it to him. He was surprised and said he knew exactly which shirt I was talking about. Then he dropped the biggest surprise on me. Not only did he describe the dress I had worn that day. He stated that he'd always wanted to fuck me. That he knew I'd be wild. He told me he'd always thought I was cute. He ran his hand across my face and began kissing my neck and pinching my nipples. I started to head back to the bathroom, but he stopped me by grabbing my hand and taking me into the bedroom.

He laid me down and for the first time in my life, I was made love to. He undressed me and kissed my breasts. We he looked down at my tummy, I reminded him while I blushed that I had twins. He just smiled and kept going. He began rubbing my clit with his fingers and probing my sex. I started wiggling. I wasn't used to this. I started telling him to put his dick in me and he just smiled and kept playing with me, sucking my nipples, biting, pinching my clit. When he finally mounted me, it took me by surprise. I was usually the person on top, doing the grinding. He slid into me and began moving slowly. He never stopped using his hands to caress me, pulling my nipples, holding my hair. I leaned my head back as an orgasm neared and opened my eyes to look out the open window. He shook me from my reverie by saying "Look at me". I was confused and he demanded "Look at me", pulling my hair and moving my head to make me look into his eyes. I saw life there. That was all that it took to release my orgasm and I cried out and strained against him. He didn't stop moving, only increased his speed and joined me in the release.