While I write for myself, I do enjoy reading other stories on this site.
Visual porn is far too 'violent' in nature today for me.
I prefer loving couples, equals rather than one being dominant.
Love over pain.
Faithfulness over adultery.
I understand we all have different attitudes to what constitutes a good story which is why this site is so good.
Often when we read a story we see a possible different track.
One such story I recently read dates from November 2014 and was written by Deuce226, "Carpe Diem 1 & 2."
As I read it, I had an immediate different take on it.
It was an offer that the wife would be a sex slave for one year.
While the husband was against the contract, his wife, at the last minute went for it.
I couldn't understand the reason why or how he reluctantly went along with it to the extent of joining in at the next sex party.
Maybe if more chapters had been written my questions would have been answered and a happy ending ensued.
I have changed the names involved so this is a standalone story but wished to acknowledge his story which gave rise to my version.
This is my view based on the original concept.
It is nowhere close to that concept now.
However as I write linearly even I was surprised by the way the story developed as what is written wasn't in my thoughts at the beginning (the development of the story has gone far beyond that original thought which was solely based on the original).
The developments mean that while the first part and final part could be quite factual (in a fantasy sense), in reality, the middle section makes Marvel films look like true life.
While I may wish those events were possible, I doubt they would be.
I think it says more about what I think about the corrupt world we live in today and our impotence to change it.
As usual, trying to finish the story means I explore the aftermath which means it's a lot longer than I first envisaged.
It comes to eight chapters.
If you are only after sex scenes then you'll need to wait until chapters 6-8.
The Betrayal:
It was just a week ago my wife Joanna collapsed our world when she had come home with the offer.
A week in which we had discussed everything, - alright - shouted and screamed but I thought finally agreed, no way in hell would or could that offer be accepted.
Just two minutes ago, she had called the lawyer acting for Cheryl Vine to accept her offer of being a sex slave for one year which would net her 8 million euros. Almost as she put the phone down, the doorbell rang and the driver was there to take her away.
They had known she would call!
KNOWN!
As she passed me Joanna tried to kiss me goodbye as she headed for the door. There were tears in her eyes. I stepped away, I wanted nothing to do with her. She could not fail to see the fury on my face.
She spoke softly yet sadly, "We'll be together soon. Cheryl said she would have you come over often and we could be together, make love then. The year will be over before we know it John. I love only you." Her eyes showed that love but also a great fear as well. I didn't truly recognise that until later.
"Joanna," I shouted, very sharply and venomously, "If you go through that door, the only communication from me will be the divorce papers."
Even the driver was shocked at my level of hatred. Joanna paled but turned away and left me.
I had never felt such fury as I did at that moment. Not even under fire in Afghanistan when friends around me were being killed.
My mind was failing remarkably to comprehend what had just happened. Working on automatic pilot, I knew I had to do something physical to clear my brain and work out what the fuck had just happened. That was my go-to way to reset my brain. All I felt was anger, fucking anger and more fucking anger!
I changed into my running gear or to be more accurate tore off my clothing and put on my gear. I set off, my anger making me run faster than I normally did on my 7.5-mile circuit. The route took me within half a mile of Cheryl's whorehouse. I could have headed there but what was the point. My marriage was over.
As I ran, my subconscious mind went into that place which collated and processed all the information, all the seemingly irrelevant words, actions, I hadn't realised were important. Odd words would appear and disappear, sentences would follow and then a semblance of a story, a route map of what had happened. Sometimes, the answers were not complete, the action required not clear but after more time, that became clearer and knowledge became a weapon.
My conscious mind was only aware of the anger, fury inside me driving me on.