Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 12

Shit, I could get depressed.

Truth was, I had options, if I didn't want to stay with my hubby. Good ones, too. The most obvious was y most regular fuck buddy, Michael, who was really now my boyfriend, in truth. I mean, he wasn't the hottest or sexiest guy I knew, he didn't fuck the best, his cock wasn't the biggest, I didn't have the hottest cums with him. But, unlike anyone else, Michael understood me. I'd tell him everything -- meaning, literally, every time I had a date, especially the really horny ones like fucking strangers, or a guy and a girl -- and he would get hot, not jealous. He got off on me being a slut. He'd lick other men's cum out of my twat, or lap it off my breasts. He kept talking about watching me fuck in person, he'd jerk off to pictures of me having sex. I could tell him anything I wanted, even boring "feelings." He knew them, he'd been separated from his 12-year marriage for about a year when he hit on me (or, really, on my ass) at the grocery store. I was fucking comfortable around Michael, he was like the nice warm glove in the wintertime. He had his own (small) apartment, I could move in with him at least temporarily, he'd even let me fuck other guys anytime I wanted, as long as I let him get the sloppy seconds.

Besides Michael, who was only ever supportive, I had some lovers actively encouraging me to leave my husband. Brad, I think, is fucking in love with me, but he doesn't know the extent to which I'm a full-time, unpaid tramp. My girly friend Blayne, the rich bitch who lives in a condo Daddy bought for her on the city's waterfront, keeps saying, if I wanna get out on my own, I could move in with her. My out of town boyfriend Adam keeps telling me I need to get a "change of scenery," and cross the country to shack up with him. My BFF from college, Belinda, twice divorced, would take me in for a while. So, it's not like I had to stay put because I lacked options. Actually, it would be easy as fuck to leave my hubby.

And . . . I was skirting around the issue of my reaction to Nick. Nicky. That fabulous, hot, gorgeous Italian stud. Not tall or ripped, he was still one fine male specimen, his bronzed skin and flat chest and tummy were delicious to lick during sex. His stare melted me. I could, and had, spent entire days naked with him, not just fucking but cuddling, talking, eating, goofing off. And his prick, mmm. He can fuck a couple hours without stopping, he can cum six or more times a day, and he doesn't mind that I fuck other guys. I mean, if I had to fuck one man every day, that would be Nick. No questions asked. I could even see myself waking up next to him every day -- not that I wanted to change that aspect of my life, but, I mean, if I were to do that . . . .

Grrr! The debate raged in my head.

My brain didn't want to make a choice, I wanted to postpone it. It was easier to turn the key of my car, start up this beast humming. Call it off today, drive home, think about it more. Really, really think about it, decide what to do.

My hand went to the key, to turn it. Only, I didn't turn it. I already knew. I knew what and who I am. I'm a nymph. Slut. Whore. I crave attention, cock, kisses, being manhandled, being sweaty and messy, having stranger's cum shot up my cunt. Make me feel like a woman. Worship my firm big tits and tight little ass and petite body. This is who I am, this is what I want in life.

Sure, my husband might find out about this, now that my life as a married slut is officially going public. Sure, I might be victimized in a horrific divorce, where I'll end up with nothing and be cast as an adultering bitch, a worthless cock-craving whore. I might have to go to work and never have the comfortable life I've been leading for almost a decade. But know what I say to all that?

FUCK THAT! This bitch LOVES cock!

The door to my car clicked open, my hand was pulling the lever back, and my arm pushed the car door open. I confidently strode out of the car, being wettened by the thin noontime rain, heading into the building for a pornographic photoshoot and video recording session.

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