Melanies Memoirs A Married Slut 03

3. The Hotel:

I'm Melanie. I'm a 30 year old, married slut who cheats on her husband almost daily, if not even more often than that, because he can't come close to satisfying me and I can't possibly get enough cock anyway. This is another entry in my memoirs.

At the time I'm writing this, I've got about eight to ten guys who I count as "boyfriends" -- guys I fuck somewhat regularly. I decided to write down how I got here -- the doting, boring suburban housewife to the cheating, cock-loving little bitch that I know I am -- because I know how impressed many guys are with me. I've done some really, ridiculously naughty things. Really depraved, outrageous things. Two years ago, before all this started, I barely even had fantasies about some of the things I've done.

I can't get enough attention from hung, sexy men (and hot ladies too!). I want every reader of this to crave me, as much as I crave the men in my life. Don't you want me? My petite 125 pound frame, my long dark hair and slender, triangular face, my hot small ass, my gorgeous C-cup tits. I'm here for you, baby, are you man enough to please me, hmm?

So go on, grab your dick (or jam your fingers in your twat), read on and I hope you get off as hard as I have!

* * * *

(I know for a fact this happened last September 20 -- I still have the stub from the hotel parking lot! Sort of a memento, I suppose.)

"So where were you, tell me!" my best friend from college, Belinda, demanded of me over the phone. She'd been divorced twice; she played the field; she knew me well enough to sense when I was lying. Hell, she knew me better than my husband, a lot.

I'd already told her, months earlier, I'd been entertaining myself by fucking guys online. Cybersex, phone sex, video sex (through Skype or my iPhone). That was just like an interactive game to me; nothing real, nothing actual. Belinda didn't hold it against me, she never liked my husband and she was happy I was satisfying myself. Having cheated on both of her ex-husbands, she wasn't going to throw stones at me for the same thing. So you can imagine, she was outright ecstatic for me when I told her, about a month earlier, that I'd been having a month-long affair with our sexy handyman, Roger. Belinda thought it was high time I got laid properly, not by my small-dicked husband. (Yeah, Belinda dated my husband before I got engaged to him at the end of college.)

I really wanted to tell Belinda where I'd been that day. It felt proud, admitting it; I was impressed with myself for going through with it. And it had been better than I'd hoped.

So, laughing a little, I lowered my voice and muttered to my long-time friend, "Well Belinda, hun, I figure I've been cheating on my husband with the same guy for two months now, this little bitch's married pussy was aching to try some other cock too."

Belinda howled in delight, praising me for my boldness, and of course demanding details. Every detail. Who was he, where did we do it, what was it like?

I'll say more here than I told her. I'm more comfortable with myself now, about nine months later, than I had been at the time.

By the time I seduced and fucked Roger last summer, having been playing with other men online for months by phone and in video sex for nearly a year, the fantasies about actually cheating on my husband had been consuming and intense. I had just always promised myself never to cross that line, and frankly, I hadn't ever crossed it -- with a guy from the internet. One hot day in July, however, I seduced and fucked Roger when he had come to our house to repair the electrical wiring. He was sexy, he was a good fuck, and he was a nice guy. So, for a couple of months, I continued to play with my online lovers without agreeing to meet any of them in person, while in parallel hooking up with Roger once a week or so and spreading apart my married thighs for his very beautiful erection.

But, mmm, those offers from other sexy men online were making me think. Many other opportunities for getting laid, some of them hotter than Roger for sure. I was enjoying my secret affair with Roger, but when I was alone, my fantasies turned to thoughts of other men. Guys from online. Why not try it, the slut in Melanie kept saying, just meet one, see what he's like. It's no different from fucking Roger, only it might be more fun!

Two months of that slut yammering away in my pretty little brunette head finally brought about some action. Yeah, I was going to agree to meet a guy from the Internet in person -- and meet to fuck.

I had a bunch of online boyfriends, and even more men who lived near me who responded to my online personal ad that I'd had there for most of the year. So I had no shortage of choices, and trust me, I thought about each and every one. I had some incredible orgasms, fantasizing about which guy I wanted to meet in person to fuck.

The rules became clear to me. Someone who looked hot. Someone married, so he wouldn't be a pest if I didn't like him. Someone from out of town, coming here for business or something, in case it didn't work out. I didn't need a second boyfriend, I already had Roger. Plus all the men online I was fucking on the phone and over cameras.

About two weeks after making my choice, I was holding my breath, staring at myself in the wall-to-wall mirror in my bathroom, spreading my legs as wide open as I could, ever so carefully scrapping the razor around my pussylips. Leaning against the tiled wall of our bathroom, my body ached from the unforgiving porcelain tub under my naked butt, and my legs and arms tensed to keep me in position. I had become pretty adept at shaving my cunt bald, it felt so good finger-fucking myself that way, and it looked great in the photographs and over the phone for Adam or my other online lovers. Roger told me he loved the taste of it. I was definitely going to be bald for every man I fucked, from now on, I promised myself.

Later, as I pulled up my brand-new red thong, I glanced at myself in the mirror of my marital bedroom. My naked breasts would soon have a man's hands and saliva over them; a big fat dick would be entering my cunt. Damn, I looked good nude and in the thong, men were lucky to be able to have me. My husband? Even more than lucky, his small cock had no way of pleasing me like Roger did, and like Chuck was going to do that afternoon.

I'd been looking forward to this day for a couple of week, ever since Chuck told me his travel plans. He saw my ad on the website, he contacted me to say he'd be in our city for a convention but would have a lot of "down time" in his hotel room. If I wanted meaningless but hot sex, he offered himself to me. I get a lot of emails like that, but some things on his profile caught my attention. Chuck was married with kids, but had an awesome body -- a tall runner, very fit, with shaved balls and a gorgeous, super-fat 7 inch penis. Very handsome, distinguished face, smooth chest. He also had pictures of himself fucking other women, all wearing wedding rings, and somehow I figured he would be just the perfect fuck for a horny married woman. So after a couple hot phonecalls that may have involved some orgasms, I agreed to meet him at his hotel for a few hours.

This was a new me, an evolving one. I'd had sex with Roger three times that month, but it was difficult finding time in his work schedule during the day. I loved having a lover, but I didn't want an affair, and unmarried Roger was getting a little too affectionate for me. I loved his company, but didn't really want a "boyfriend." I just wanted to feel like a woman; my husband actually did a decent job of taking care of the romance side of things. So, even though I was telling myself in the mirror every day that I was getting out of control, I wanted to get even more out of control.

The lie had been set with my husband for a few days. He thought I was going into the city to have lunch with Belinda, who sometimes traveled to our city. That's why I told Belinda I needed her to lie for me, if on the .00001% chance my husband ever asked about it. Belinda immediately wanted to know what I had been doing, and that's why I told her about my day. How brazen was my lie to my husband? I even asked my husband for directions to the fucking hotel! He had no idea I was going there to get laid.

Equally nervous from the drive into the big city than because of the fact I was going there to meet a stranger from the Internet for sex, I found myself standing in the lobby of a pretty fancy downtown hotel a little before lunchtime. It was bustling with business people, scurrying around for this convention and whatever else business people do in hotels in the middle of the day. No one looked like they were there for sex -- not even me. I didn't want to dress like a hooker, so Chuck and I agreed I'd come in boring dress slacks and a white blouse under my raincoat. I looked like some lawyer's paralegal or something, I figured.

Dreamy Chuck saw me before I saw him, he approached me from behind and goosed my butt through my thin coat. "Hiya doll," he said confidently, putting an arm around me, smiling at the face he only saw in my emails and online pictures. "I'm so excited you came to meet me, you have no idea how excited I am."

"Oh, is that right." A glance to his crotch, sporting a prodigious bulge, confirmed what he told me. "Hmm, well we're going to have to do something about that excitement then, aren't we?"

It was like we were old friends, or longtime lovers, even though we'd only met online about two weeks earlier. He took my hand, we kissed hello on the lips, we went off to the lobby to sit for a bit. He had to make a couple work phonecalls, so I sat there on a comfortable chair next to him, people-watching while he babbled corporate speak into his phone. Then, ten minutes later, he put his phone away, winked at me, and asked, "So -- are you hungry for lunch? Or -- well you tell me what you want to do?"

Smirking, seeing him checking out my petite eye-popping figure in my clothing, I was sexually aggressive from the outset. I loved that there were no pretenses; we both knew why we were there. "I want," I said slowly, drawing it out quietly, playfully, "is for you to take me up to your hotel room, strip me, and fuck my savagely all afternoon."

So, he did.

We weren't alone on the elevator ride up to the 35th floor, but it was charged nonetheless. We held hands, then he stood behind me and ground his bulging crotch against my lower back. I had to bite my tongue, force myself not to moan. I tickled him as he tried to unlock his room, he tickled me back there in the hallway, it was pretty silly of us. Then, a moment later, we were behind a closed, locked hotel room door, totally alone for the rest of the day.

Chuck pushed me to my knees, I was still clothed, removing only my raincoat. Standing in front of me, his big paws clutching my long hair and skull, he rubbed his penis through his pants against my face. I felt the hardness, I could small it too, I wanted it so bad. I looked up at him diffidently, letting him rub against my face, until finally he let me unzip his pants, unfasten his belt, take his shoes off, and pull down his slacks and underwear.

"Mmm, gawd your cock is hot," gasped the married slut on her knees, gripping his boner as soon as it popped free, stroking it to draw out more precum. I tasted the pointy head of the ultra fat shaft, I couldn't get my fist around its thick base. It was love at first sight of his erection. "Fuck I love your dick!" I slurped it, licked and kissed it, sucked it a little, letting his fuck my mouth as I kept looking up at his friendly, smiling face. "Mmm, how many married women have gotten to suck 'n fuck this cock? Besides your wife, of course?"

The stud snickered. "A lot -- dunno, twenty? Something like that." He groaned in satisfaction, seeing his penis inside my wet, hungry mouth. "But you're the prettiest, I'm serious, you're gorgeous, Melanie." He licked his lips and grunted. "How many men have you fucked behind your husband's back?"

I paused, wanting to lie and sound experienced, not wanting to say he was just the second in person. I thought about Adam and other men through the cellphone and Skype, and other men I met online who just got cyber or phone out of me. "A few," I giggled, blushing as I looked up at him. "A girl isn't supposed to kiss and tell?"

He was removing his clothing, leaving himself only in black socks, otherwise totally nude, with just a gold chain around his thin neck. "Oh, don't worry, I don't fuck and tell either." He laughed at his dumb joke, I could see the confidence he had from me being in lust with his heavenly penis. "Let me watch you strip, can you dance for me?"

Nude Chuck lied back on the bed, his eyes all over me, as I stood stupidly near the bed. I hadn't really danced or stripped for anyone before, not even my husband. I'd done dance classes as a kid, none really involved removing clothing. But, knowing what he really wanted, I gave him as best I could. I swayed around, fondling my boobs and my ass through my clothing, slowing unbuttoning my blouse, then peeling off my slacks. Left in the see-through bra and thong, I danced around and shook my almost-nude butt at him, then provocatively peeled off the bra with my back to him. I turned around, clutching my tits in my hands, before showing them and drawing a raving sexy smile from my new friend. Finally, turning my back to him again, I peeled off the thong, showed my ass and cunt from behind, and stood up to face him a last time revealing my freshly-shaved pussy.

His penis was throbbing, streaming precum, as he laid on the bed. "You are so gorgeous, so gorgeous." He wasn't mouthing the words, I could tell he meant it the way he was staring at me. It made me feel great. "So, did you say you wanted to get fucked now?" He seemed apologetic, offering an excuse. "I'm sorry, you just have me so turned on -- we can do anything you want, whatever foreplay you like -- but I'm just so hard, if you just want to fuck, we can."

My blue eyes were staring at that incredibly thick, hard-as-concrete pole jutting out of his flat stomach and hips. Licking my lips, feeling my shaved pussy dripping juices, I loved the offer. "Hmm, well, what do you know, that is what I want."

I climbed over him, slowly, teasing him, playfully lowering my twat to his erection just to kiss the eye of his penis with my lips -- only to sit upright, back off, giggling. He clutched for me, I grabbed his wrists and didn't let him pull me down until I'd playfully just brushed my wet cunt against his swollen pecker a few times. He was really tall, his body so lengthy, and I'm so short and petite, we made a funny couple. A couple, I thought to myself. Yeah, we're going to fuck, we're a couple.

My blue eyes stared at his face, my pussy's soft wet entrance found the head of his dick. "Fuck me, Chuck!" I sank down, taking some of his thick manhood into my cunt, and we both moaned. His paws groped at my big naked tits, squeezing them, fingers around my nipples, as I closed my eyes and sank onto his prick. Fuck he was so goddamned thick, I could feel him spreading my cuntlips open, almost stretching me into shapes I'd never known, not even from the oversized dildos and vibrators I'd play with time to time. "Ohhh Chuck, fuck me, yesss!" I was screaming and crying as I had my first orgasm, only a few minutes after I started riding him, I was so turned on for my new lover.

We started kissing, I was lying on top of him, not riding him. We rolled around, he fucked me on top of me, then from the backside with us body lying on our sides, my one leg high in the air. Our lips were always together, he was romantic and sensuous with his lips and tongue, making it part of our sex.

And, something strange happened with our vocabulary. I found myself a bit of a talker during sex with Roger, so I was doing the same with Chuck, telling him I loved his penis, loved him fucking me, wanted to be his slut. He was saying how beautiful I was, stuff like that. Suddenly, he was saying he "loved" me, and I was so in lust for him I said back to him, "I love you too, Chuck, fuck me, I love you!" We were gasping, sweating, pounding our bodies together, but not fucking as much as making love. It was really romantic, an extremely exciting change of pace from Roger.

"Oh God baby," I remember Chuck saying as he put me on my knees, staring at my bony ass, "I love you, I love your butt, let me fuck your ass sweetie." Roger had licked my ass but not fucked it, and it was certainly nothing my husband ever did, so I had a virgin anus at least as of about the last decade. I pulled my buttcheeks apart, looking back at him over my shoulder, and I cried, "Yeah honey, I love you too, fuck my butt!"

Shit, that huge cock didn't fit, but he tried anyway. I don't know how many inches he got inside me, but it felt like I was going to explode, my pooper wanted to burst in the worst say. Meanwhile, I was frantically grinding my fingers on my cunt while he assfucked me, my face pressed into the sweaty sheets. A loving, romantic sessions of sex had turned into animal, smelly ass-fucking! I was cumming repeatedly, while Chuck ripped open my butthole, telling me how gorgeous my ass was.

My ass hurt, and I mean HURT, when he pulled out after I don't know how long. He kept me on my knees, bent over, screwing my tight juicy pussy from behind. My orgasm was instantaneous, feeling that pressure deep inside me, feeling his sweaty tall body bouncing off my asscheeks. He, too, started squirting inside me, both of us cumming together.

We had sex two more times that afternoon, and I'll get to the last session in a moment. But somewhere in between all the fucking, we were lying together in the bed, talking. He was telling me his wife was all wrapped up in the kids, and while she was hot, their sex wasn't enough for him. I hadn't intended to reveal too much of myself to him, but I ended up confiding the total truth. He was just my second lover in person, and my first one was only about two months earlier, but I'd been screwing around online and by phone for over a year. I didn't want to leave my husband, but the sex was too powerful for me I needed it, I hated to admit it. Chuck seemed to completely understand, he answered me with a long, wet kiss, telling me I was no different from a dozen other married women he'd met. And fucked.

The last sex session involved his camera. He wanted pictures of me. I was reticent at first, not wanting my face in the same photograph as my body or his body, and Chuck completely understood. He wasn't taking no for an answer, but, he promised never to show photographs of me to anyone -- just like, in the photographs that I had seen from him, I never saw any married women's faces who didn't want to be seen. Sitting there nude in his hotel bedroom, my pussy wanting more cock, hearing what I wanted to hear, I of course said yes.

Chuck photographed me sucking his penis, licking it up and down, then he also took photos of me nude by myself. Spread open, or from the backside as I was bent over, a few like that. Finally he spread me open on my back, entered me with his gorgeous dick, and took photos of his cock inside my cunt. He also photographed his huge swollen pole titfucking my big breasts, which I wrapped around his meat as it bobbed back at forth at my face. I got more ass-fucking, for a little bit anyway, I was too sore there to fuck long but he got some action photographs of that.

Finally, for his last orgasm of the day, he spewed his hot jism all over my sweaty, smiling face, and photographed the happy result. Then I licked it clean. I was definitely a cum whore now.

We promised to stay in touch, and he emailed me all of the photos later that afternoon so I have them too. I had a feeling I'd never see Chuck again, and that was okay to me. Instead, as I drove home, I was focused on another looming feeling, one that was changing my view of myself. Despite all the guilt of lying to my husband to go downtown and cheat with a traveling businessman, I loved myself for doing it. I was hot, I made very sexy men horny for me, and the sex was amazing. I wasn't going to stop.