Truman:
I wanted so badly to just plunge straight into the willing pussy of the beautiful stranger standing before me. A woman who would not run away when I was about to slide my cock inside of her, who wanted my dick, and who my wife, Chantel, had given me permission to fuck. Instead, I looked across the room at Chantel and saw the woman I loved and had married and I knew at that moment that I could not go though with it. So, I escorted my “present” to the door.
I walked back across the living room to Chantel and dragged her, by the arm, into our bedroom.
"What did you do that for?! I paid good money for her!" Chantel screamed at me as I shut the bedroom door.
That really was the last straw. I had never been mean to Chantel before, but I yelled at her to sit down. "Question. What kind of wife pays a person to fuck her husband?” I screamed at her, “Better yet, what the hell is going on with you? Are you fucking someone else?!”
“Of course I'm not fucking someone else," Chantel replied, her eyes pleading with me to calm down.
"Well, then, what is the problem?" I asked her as calmly as I could manage.
"I want to have sex with you, but I can’t,” was her reply.
"What do you mean you can't?! Shit, all you have to do is lie down and spread your legs open."
"Look, I don’t want to talk about it, so leave me alone."
"You always say that you don’t want to talk about it and I’m starting to feel like you don’t trust me." She tried to walk out of the room, but I caught her by the arm just before she reached the door. She screamed for me to let go of her arm right then, but I did not. She stomped on my foot and ran out of the room. I caught her by the arm, again, just as she entered the living room. She yelled that if I didn’t let her go, she was really going to hurt me.