--- This story is a complete work of fiction, and everyone involved is over eighteen years of age.
These were the times that I felt a mix of emotions that I had almost become addicted to. Darren's dick was quickly softening and in a moment it would slip out of my pussy. Along with his dick, an almost comical amount of semen would follow, draining out of my battered vagina, past my asshole and pooling on the bed below us.
I suppose that the completion of our mating may have triggered some distant connection to ancestors that wrote on cave walls. This timeless function, this connection of having a swollen, hard dick pumping into my body so that nature could roll the dice and determine if my egg would be fertilized had become a fetish of mine over the last month, you'll have to read the entire story for more details about that. The remaining emotions fluctuated between pride, knowing that my body could bring men to this most vulnerable state, and greed, wanting the pleasure of engaging in the this act in spite of knowing that I was fucking someone that I used only for sex, if I were a black widow, it would all make sense. But I made a point to demand that all orgasms would happen so that I could watch their faces, so that I could celebrate what my body could achieve. There was excitement as well, and each time now it was becoming more incredible than the last. This was quickly becoming a thing that I needed, more and more frequently. Finally there was the feeling of righteous indignation and this also fluctuated depending on how clueless, or indifferent my husband had recently acted.. Combined, it was a powerful emotional cocktail, and I suppose only other women in my situation could fully understand what I've described.
We were both exhausted, my nearly hour long commute home paled in comparison to his four hour drive. I suppose that his willingness to make that trip as often as he had been spoke volumes about his opinion of the untamed sex we shared. After a mutual shower, we shared our last kiss of the evening and rove off in opposite directions.
Before you hate me for cheating, read on.
I was on my way home with the typical look of tit-for-tat look on my face. I had even stopped wishing I could just drive in the opposite direction. Matt was a good provider, no he was an excellent provider. Most people would call him a workaholic, but Matt was more interested in 'winning' or 'beating the system' than just being driven to overwork himself. He took every business opportunity as a challenge and just wouldn't stop until it paid off. He had swept me off my feet five years ago, I had no intention of being married at such a young age, but then I'd never met anyone like Matt. The first time we had sex, it was like he had revealed all of the guys that I'd been with before him were doing it wrong. I've never been able to orgasm from penetration alone, I'd been with enough guys, with plenty of variety in dick size, the owners ability to use it properly and various levels of arousal that I had finally just accepted that my orgasms would come from stimulating my clit, it didn't matter how much I wanted to cum the way I would have preferred. After a short engagement, Matt and I were married and everything seemed like a fairy tale for the next four years, I was the happiest I have ever been in my life, I got pregnant, and it felt like everything was unfolding like a Hollywood romance.
My pregnancy was chaotic, I'm sure all pregnancies are. Matt showered me with love, affection and a change to his fucking, what I'd consider 'love making' and I would sometimes giggle to myself, thinking Matt was fucking me more gently because he was worried over my being pregnant and not wanting to hurt me. We stopped having sex soon after my six-month mark, and I had become more and more horny. I didn't typically have to initiate sex with Matt, so it felt awkward, reaching in between our spooning to feel for his dick, or pushing my swollen tits into his chest when he came home from work and slithering my tongue into his mouth. It didn't matter what I'd try, Matt wouldn't fuck me. So I masturbated, sometimes daily and I had convinced myself to buy a dildo, but always chickened out before clicking on the 'Place Order' button. When our daughter was born, Matt was in the delivery room and the look on his face as he stared at my post-delivery vagina is a look I'll never forget for the rest of my life. I had no idea it would impact Matt as much as it did. Apparently I had considerable tearing during delivery, and needed sutures as a result. At a followup appointment, my Doctor told me that I could resume intercourse when 'I felt ready', but while I had been extremely horny before the baby, now, I was just exhausted all of the time.
Matt arranged for live-in help with the house and the baby, so almost immediately I felt better. Soon after, I wanted my husband inside of me. Matt was reluctant, he said he was worried it might be too soon. I led him to our bed one night after he had said no on a number of occasions and stopped asking. I sucked his dick for all I was worth and mixed in plenty of dirty talk, telling him how empty my pussy had been for so long and how I needed him inside me, filling me with his cum again. While I didn't know what was bothering Matt, it didn't matter because his dick was as hard as it had ever been and I took that as a win. When he cried out suddenly that he was cumming, I sealed my lips around the head of his dick and stroked him with my hand. He came in my mouth and I swallowed everything. When I looked up at him, he was smiling, I climbed up to snuggle against him and told him that making him cum was the most wifely, womanly thing I could do for him and that I wanted us to resume our very active sex life.
I waited patiently, hoping that he'd move between my legs and use his mouth on my pussy, I needed to cum desperately. I pictured the perfect scenario, make me cum with your mouth, then fill my pussy with your dick and when you cum, make sure I'm watching your face and make sure all of it goes deep inside of me. I don't know is other women that have recently given birth feel the same way, but there were a lot of thoughts going through my head to give our daughter a baby brother or sister.
Matt seemed like he wasn't interested in going further and I felt miserable once again. I felt embarrassed, ugly, and mad at Matt because he seemed reluctant to even want to talk about our lack of intimacy. Being a typical woman, I wondered if he had been fucking someone else. It had been almost six months since we had fucked, what normal guy would go that long when they have a very willing wife that wants sex? A week later, Matt surprised me when he took MY hand and led me to our bedroom. He laid me on our bed after removing my clothes, then he raced out of his own clothes and straddled my face. He stroked his dick and then fed it into my mouth saying 'Make your mouth feel like your pussy.'
If he wanted my pussy he could have it, anytime. Making my mouth 'feel like your pussy' caught me off guard and again, I just went with it. I sucked his dick, and he came in my mouth like he did the last time. He climbed into bed next to me and I knew that this time, I'd have to say something if he just imagined we were done playing around. We talked a bit, but then he climbed out of bed, and began pulling his boxers up his legs.
"Matt, don't you think it would be nice to make love?" I asked, trying hard to mask my confusion and anger.
"You're not ready for that yet." He said as he pulled his pants up and buckled them.
"Then lick my pussy." I figured that if I could get him actively engaged, his dick would take over his thinking, and I'd get laid.
"You need to heal up first." He suggested, ridiculously.
"The Doctor said I was fine and healed, that it was up to me and I've been ready for a while. I'll tell you if something doesn't feel right, but I really want my husband to desire me right now, please Matt." I almost begged. What was wrong with me? I'd just turned twenty-six in the last trimester of my pregnancy, my tits were bigger than they'd ever been before (36C), I've got a nice, shapely ass and I have always turned heads in public. My husband was making me feel terrible, ugly and not at all desirable.
"Soon Babe, I just want to be sure.." He said as he bent over, and ran the back of his hand along my cheek. Then he turned and left the bedroom.
I cried for half an hour and ended up in the en suite bathroom, staring at my naked body in the mirror above the sink. I still had a few extra pounds lingering from the pregnancy, but any normal guy would have found me attractive. I found a hand mirror in one of the cabinet drawers and went back into the bedroom, first locking the door, and then laying back on the bed, and spreading my legs, and bending them at the knees. I held the mirror to capture the reflection of my vagina, and I had to admit, it didn't look the same. No, it wasn't destroyed, and hanging open limply, but it did look, different, maybe a bit swollen, and maybe it was all just in my head, because my husband, who was supposed to love me, wanted nothing to do with me sexually, outside of sucking his dick. I found the small scar where I had torn during delivery, and ran my fingertip over it, no, my pussy wasn't a train wreck, so what was the problem?
The following day, I ended up in a grocery store, and as I walked past the checkout aisles, I heard a young man say 'Damned that MILF is fine!' his counterpart hushed him quickly. Still, it made me feel good, sexy, desired, even though I wasn't sure I liked the 'MILF' label. I moved up and down the aisles and tried to remember what I had been shopping for. My mind kept slipping back to hearing that compliment, and I fantasized thinking I'd go back to the front of the store, and take the young man's hand, and lead him into whatever they had for a store room, and giving him the best sex of his life, why not? It's not like my husband wanted anything to do with my body, aside from 'making my mouth feel like a pussy' for him. I was a bit angry, but also very horny, so I quickly hatched an innocent plan and moved the produce aisle. I selected three cucumbers, the smallest was about the size of Matt's dick, I didn't have a tape measure to be positive, but Matt's dick is a bit over six inches, and girthy. The smallest seemed about that size. The next cucumber was maybe an inch longer and possibly a bit thicker, the last cucumber was possibly a bit more than two inches longer that the smallest, and was the thickest of them off, but only along one end. The I took my cart and went to the pharmacy section, and I picked out a box of condoms, and a bottle of KY gel lube. I grinned as I went directly to the checkout aisle where the guys had been, with my purchases that made it painfully obvious that I was going to fuck myself with three cucumbers.
"Hi... Tom." I said with a sexy grin as I read his name tag. Tom smiled back at me, I'm sure the gears were turning in his head, but he looked at the items I'd placed on his little conveyor belt, and I watched with delight as his eyes began to bulge.
"Hi, umm... did you... find everything alright?" He stammered.
