Us
It pains me to say that after 25 years I am still married to the same spineless douche-bag of a man.
He knows I fuck every man in town and he still never says or does anything to stop me or even slow me down.
I usually go out 3 or 4 nights a week with girlfriends and after a few drinks I split and go to the slimiest bars I can find. There, I commence to fuck anyone who wants to stick his greasy cock in me. I'll take it in any hole and I'll take them over and over again.
When I've had my fun I go home and press my seed-filled ass right down on my husband's face. He doesn't like it, but he does nothing about it. He doesn't tell me no, he just doesn't do anything.
This has been going on since day one. On our wedding night I got fucked by one of the catering guys and gave half dozen blowjobs before my husband even got to remove my garter. I made sure there were some large gobs of sperm dripping down my thigh when he did. When we kissed after the ceremony, I had caked-on cum on my lips and chin. I know he could taste it, maybe even see it.
Why did I marry him? Because he's not bad looking, he's a real gentleman, he's clean, he's a good father, and he's rich. Very rich. I want for nothing.
As a couple we are not social. We do not attend many functions together. He does his thing and I do mine.
We have an elegant home in Connecticut and an apartment in Manhattan. Often during the week my husband will stay in the city rather than commute. I guess I'm a sick woman but it just isn't the same, going out for a fuck, when hubby isn't home to torture when I'm done. Part of my thrill is making him submit to my selfish perversity.
But that's not all of it. I truly love to fuck. Nasty fucking deep, hard, juicy cock plunging in and out of me. Sperm running in torrents from my used holes. A thick coating of man-seed on my face and hair. My tits bruised and sore from being used as handles by some big stud pumping loads of cum into my body.
I love my life.
My Son
I call him My Son. He is my son. Not our son. I have always known that he did not come from his father's seed. My husband is a slender man, quiet, very hard working and tidy. He treats everyone with respect and courtesy. Most women's dream.
My son is overbearing, loud, tall, dark and built like Brian Urlacher. He is messy, eats like a pig, and I love him more than life itself. He is My dream.
My husband has always provided well for us both, has always given us everything we need including love and respect. I think my son truly loves and admires his father but every one of us knows, in our hearts, that there is no biological connection between father and son. They are just too different in every way.
Steven, my son, goes to college now in Boston. He lives in a frat house (which I don't approve of for him but would love to spend some time there myself) and is a junior. Although he has always excelled at sports he is not on any of the school teams. My son, my beautiful big Adonis of a son wants to learn engineering. It's fine by me.
Me
Back to the slut.