Diary of an Obsession, Ch. 03
Leo checked the time on his phone. It was 2 a.m., and Ana was sleeping innocently beside him. Despite the risk, he crept out of bed, sneaking slowly to her side of the room. Driven by extreme lust and curiosity, he stealthily slipped her diary off the nightstand and crept out to the half bath.
He took quick photo shots with his phone of each new page and then slipped back into the bedroom and left Ana's diary where he'd found it. Fortunately, she was a sound sleeper.
Copying pages was his latest modus operandi, enabling Leo to store Ana's words on his phone and read them again later. It also limited how much time he actually spent with the diary and reduced his chance of getting caught.
Safely back in the half bath, he began reading. He found the details of her threesome with Sergei and his friend amazing. His rock-hard cock ached for release, so he pulled it out and beat off while standing over the toilet. Fuck, but it was so hot.
Leo couldn't believe that his sexy wife just let some ugly old stranger fuck her like that and cum all over her beautiful face, no questions asked. Who was this guy, and more importantly, was Sergei going to just share her with all of his friends? And would she let him?
Ana had taken two big cocks at once. Holy fuck, but that was so incredibly hot! God, how he wanted to see that. He sure wanted to see those photos that the stranger took of cum dripping down her smiling face.
He closed his eyes and tried to picture it. In his mind's eye, Ana was half naked while riding a big cock on that nasty mattress, while a second cock roughly fucked her face, making her gag.
He tried to imagine what she looked like at this moment -- lost in her sexual arousal. Lost to all decency. Lost even to him. And then he blasted all over the toilet seat and the cover. Fuck.
As he cleaned up his mess, another important question filled Leo's suddenly rational mind as he reread the entry. What's all this about secret fantasies? He thought he knew everything about her, but she had never written about secret fantasies before. Unless...
There was one place they could be -- the one book he'd never had the guts to read. Way in the back of the closet behind all the other diaries, his wife hid a single locked journal.
The book was not dated, so Leo had never thought of it as a diary. Until now, he'd never given it much thought as there had always been so much information to devour. There was also the problem of the lock. He had no idea where she kept the key. Next time she was out of the house, he would look for it.
If they got through all this still in one piece, Leo knew that he had to do better. He would make their lives more exciting. He would be more romantic and a better lover. There were so many things he could do better. He would do better. But they had to get through it first.
Oh fuck. Bargaining. He had entered stage three.
Diary Entry -- June 24th
So here's how it's going work. I send a text to Papo asking -- no begging -- to get fucked. He loves it when I beg him, apparently. Initially, he said he had no time for me because he was 'busy,' but soon found some.
So there I was on my knees in front of him fully naked with my ample boobs completely wrapped around his huge cock. I had insisted on bringing a pillow to kneel on, but I had to promise not to frilly the place up. He liked it dirty. He liked making girls come to a place they hated in order to be with him.
I looked up into his rugged, smiling face as I worked my boobs up and down the full length of his monstrous cock. The friction was warming my skin, and I became concerned about getting a rubbing rash.
I was thinking that I should bring some lubricant down here, too. I asked if he had some, and all he could offer was some nasty black grease. No thanks.
"You like this," he said, still smiling at me. "You like to fuck."
"Yes," I said almost as a question, letting the word out for a long time like he should continue with his thought.
"I mean that you live to fuck -- like me."
"I don't know if I live to fuck. I like it yes, but live to fuck? I don't know."
"I fuck many girls. I know when they live to fuck. You sneak down here everyday, behind your husband's back, to get my big cock. My dirty little shlyukha... she lives to fuck."
I felt my head lower and my face warm with shame as he spoke the words. It was the truth in them that struck me the hardest. I had debased myself numerous times with this dirty old man just to get the thrill and extreme please that he could provide.
I had allowed myself to be called vile names and treated roughly. I had allowed myself to be shared with someone who would ordinarily repulse me.
And, I loved all of it. I was a whore. A shlyukha.
"You're just like me," he said. My head snapped up. He was still smiling.
"What?"
He laughed and patted my head like I was a good little pet. "You think I don't know what I am. I'm a man slut. You're a woman slut. We are both sluts." He looked very comfortable with that thought.
"Are you proud of it?" I asked, a bit amazed.
"I like to fuck beautiful women. Most men my age are stuck with the same old rundown bitch. I sit here watching the prettiest women I ever saw in my life titty fucking my cock. I feel no guilt for that."
For some reason, both the compliment and this thought made me smile. He spoke of guilt-free slutdom. I never even thought about that as being a thing. How can you be a slut and not be ashamed of it?
"We are a lot alike."
"I don't think so."
He laughed. "I learned that with a cock like this," he gave his pelvis a little push into my boobs, "I could have a lifetime of fun."
I didn't say anything, but just kept rolling my tit flesh up and down his tool. The words that he was saying were fogging my brain. He was trying to tell me to let my slut flag fly.
"With a body like yours -- that face, those tits, that ass -- you can have a lot of fun, too... and so much more."
My eyes felt the size of saucers. I couldn't possibly be a slut like him. I'm married. I have a good job with a bright future. I can't have it all. If I get caught, it all comes crashing down.
