"No!" I exclaimed. "There really wasn't anyone else, ever. It was just a one-time, stupid mistake. I just developed a relationship with this one coworker, and I should have put an end to it a long time ago. It's completely my fault, baby... but no, there has never, ever been anyone else. I promise."
That was a lie, of course.
I was a cum-soaked nympho. Shortly after we got together, I got fucked in the bathroom stall of a nightclub. I was high, in my defense -- a down and dirty quickie never hurt anybody.
Then there was David, my ex. We bumped into each other when I was back home over the holidays, and I sucked his dick for old time's sake. (David deserved it since I cheated on him too, back in high school.) I sucked his cock long and deep, relishing the taste of my old boyfriend's manhood. This is the dick that took my virginity, I thought to myself as I ran my tongue up his shaft. I wondered if his wife ever sucked his cock as good as me. Sitting in the back of his truck, he blew his load all over my pretty face. I licked it up like a good little slut, swallowing every last drop. That was right around our first anniversary.
Then, of course, there was our wedding day. I was getting nervous as the hour approached, but I held it together. Okay, I did give my phone number to the cute photographer, and we made out a little, but he only felt me up. I didn't respond to his booty call text the following week. If he'd asked on my wedding night, I might have caved in. But he didn't have the balls.
Six months later, I texted him and asked if he did boudoir photography. I wanted to make a special present for my husband, I told him. We met at his studio and things heated up quickly. I started out in my lace bra and panties and was completely nude after ten minutes. The shoot got increasingly pornographic, going from softcore to hardcore in a matter of minutes. He pounded me doggystyle like a fucktoy until he was satisfied, draining his balls in me while I moaned, cameras pointed at me from three angles. I bet he showed all his friends. And I bet he still jacks off to it now, years later.
Believe it or not, I was a good girl after that. It hurt my feelings when I caught my husband with the neighbor. He fixed her sink, and she thanked him with her mouth. I watched through a window as that fat whore swallowed my husband's cum. Maybe he deserves it, I thought to myself, crying. Maybe he should get more than I'm giving him. But I confronted him about it all the same. He folded immediately. The guilt had been eating away at him and confession was a relief.
As for my trips to the gym...
I usually do go to the gym. Honest. But last time I was there, I made eye contact with a cute college guy. I held his gaze for just a little too long, and he smiled. I smiled back and he started flirting with me. He put his number in my phone as I fiddled with my wedding ring. Maybe I would be bad, just this once... My husband didn't need to know.
After all, how would he ever find out?