Whats Love Got To Do With It Ch 01

I must admit that I was not exactly faithful to my husband when we first met; if anything the knowledge that I had fallen completely, head-over-heels in love with him made me even more promiscuous than I had been previously.

You see, much as I loved Stephen and couldn't wait to see him and be with him again each time we were apart, his equipment simply couldn't compare to those of the other men I was used to fucking.

Don't get me wrong, he's not "small"; I've measured it (and told him it was ridiculously small which was what he wanted to hear) and it's a reasonably average 6 and three-quarter inches in length and maybe 3 and a quarter around but ever since I was a teenager I've been a size queen.

Even now when I meet guys for the first time at least half of my brain is wondering how big they are and, being married to a submissive sissy whose libido goes into overdrive at the thought of me fucking other, bigger, Real Men, I enjoy telling my sissy all about these fantasies as she fucks me with one of my many, large dildos.

So you see big cocks are simply part of my DNA and the instant attraction I felt for my husband-to-be, which I'd never felt for any man before, made me afraid that I would never again experience the delights and heights of orgasm to which I was accustomed from being filled by thick cocks of 8 and 9 inches belonging to men who really knew how to use them.

And so, even though he made his feelings for me quite clear, I never once said anything that would lead him to conclude that our relationship would be "exclusive".

He would come up from London each weekend and, mostly, we would spend the entire weekend together but during the week I found myself flirting with good-looking men, going on dates, checking out the more explicit personals, and bringing men back to the flat I shared with a friend at least twice a week.

On one of these occasions I met Sami, from Sheffield, whom I had contacted through the personals, and who could only come over after work on a Friday. He was ten years younger than me and had been more than happy to share his particular details before we agreed to meet and...oh boy, did I want to meet him!

There was just one problem; Stephen!

Stephen always came up on the train on Friday and I would wait for him in our flat. There we would do a lot of foreplay until I came a couple of times and then he would penetrate me and cum and we would cuddle until we fell asleep. It was lovely, it was intimate, it was sensual and it was adequate, but it was lovemaking and, as I've said, I needed to be fucked by someone bigger and thicker, by someone who just wanted a fuck, not a relationship!

So now, if I wanted Sami (and I WANTED Sami!), I had to tell Stephen I wouldn't be seeing him until Saturday.

I can't remember what excuse I gave him, in fact I don't think I said anything other than something's come up, but I booked him a hotel for the night and told him to come over to the flat on Saturday morning and, if I wasn't there, my flatmate would let him in: then I rang Sami and told him it was on!

I met him at a famous pub, really popular with tourists and nearly fainted; he was drop-dead gorgeous with muscles and ripples in all the right places, a tight, tight butt and best of all, clothes that showed everything off to perfection (and I mean EVERYTHING!).

We stayed there for a couple of drinks, to get to know each other but it was really noisy and so, finding we got on well together, we went for an intimate dinner before I suggested we go back to my place for a quiet drink.

His hands were all over me on the walk home and all I could think of was getting him into my room where I could finally get my hands (and mouth) on his big cock. I'd been checking it out whenever I'd had the chance, I'd been thinking about nothing else when I couldn't see it and soon I would have it all to myself for the night.

The minute we got inside he started stripping me. Even though I knew my flatmate was in I didn't object. I didn't care. My tongue was in his mouth and my hands were undoing his belt and fly, desperate to get the object of my desire free of his tight jeans.

As soon as my fingers encountered the head it was as if all the muscles in my body began to tremble: he hadn't been exaggerating. Half undressed, in the hall, just inside our front door, I sank to my knees. I was trembling so much with anticipation that I don't know whether I could have remained on my feet anyway, but I dropped down, never letting go of that beautiful organ, and begged him to fuck my mouth.

I never have, nor ever will, want to worship a man's cock the way I wanted to worship his. It was huge and hard as iron and beautifully shaped and I wanted to experience it totally, to give him whatever he wanted as often as he wanted it. I wanted to milk it of every drop of cum he could produce and I forgot totally about Stephen and my love for him; all I could think about was Sami's cock.

I sucked him off, right there in the hall, until his hot spunk sprayed across my tongue and filled my mouth to overflowing and his wonderful cock stayed rock hard in my pumping fist as I struggled to my feet whereupon he pushed me up against the wall, pulled my panties down and pressed his cockhead against my sopping wet cunt.

With Sami I could never think of my vagina as a pussy, it will always be my cunt. He said the word over and over as he shoved 9 inches of thick, beautiful cock deep inside my "hot cunt", my "tight cunt", my "soft cunt", my "sopping cunt"! He used the word like a mantra as he fucked me and I didn't give a shit that my flatmate had just walked across the hall from the sitting room to the toilet and seen him pawing at my "big, fucking, jugs" while I moaned as my cunt stretched wide open with each deft thrust of his monster dick.

I didn't care that she stopped and watched on her way back either when Sami began thrusting more and more violently as he approached his orgasm.

Me? I couldn't even keep track of how many times I cum; I lost track after three, so intent was I on keeping up with his growing need. I know I was close to passing out a couple of times but his cock was so insistent, his pace frantic, that I found myself back in the moment, in each moment until finally, and furiously, he spewed his load deep in my "beautiful, beautiful, hot cunt"!

When we had both calmed down a little and were kissing tiredly, but still with passion, I finally noticed my flatmate had gone. I didn't know how much she'd seen and really didn't care. I was a ruin. Exhausted and used I led the way to my bed and we slept, me wrapped around him (with my hand still on his dick), until 8 in the morning when I awoke from the delirium of the night before with a massive morning hard-on in my hand and the knowledge that my boyfriend could be coming around at any moment!

But my filthy, used cunt was so aroused by the proximity of that beautiful cock I had to have it one more time!

I sucked him awake and climbed on top of him, telling him we had to be quick because Stephen would be here soon and he laughed as I impaled myself upon him fucking like a demon to get myself off on his magnificent specimen and this time it was me begging him to fuck my filthy cunt, asking him to fill my tight cunt with his hot spunk, moaning how my cunt was his and only his to have whenever and wherever he wanted, all he had to do was give me his cum one more time and I would be forever his; his slut; his bitch; his slave.

My dirty talk brought him to orgasm in less than half-an-hour by which time I'd cum twice and I finished him off with my mouth because I wanted so desperately to taste him one more time before he left.

At quarter-to-nine he walked out the door after I begged him to come up again next month. I had to promise him my ass to get him to agree and, with that date spinning around my head, I struggled into a nightie and a pair of clean panties before falling asleep for an hour, when I was awoken by the sound of the doorbell!