We were at McDonald’s talking while she was eating her double cheeseburger. We talked about everything from George Straight concerts and Garth Brooks concerts that he had worked as a guard, to things that we’ve all been through. He was a perfect gentleman to compliment her with her napkins for the catch-up that dripping out of her hamburger. Finally after a while he asked if we wanted to go somewhere, and she reacted quickly with yes! We got in the car and drove to the motel and he followed us.

My wife looks like a slut. She’s always looked like this to me. She’s a little over a meter tall with big breasts. The kind that needs a bra to hold them up and avoid unnecessary wiggling. She’s no eye-catching beauty, but she has that look that boys know. That I might be a bad girl for the right man. Her big mouth and pouty lips contribute to her slutty look. She wasn’t acting like a slut when I met her and then married her.

She opened an eye, but her whole world was still one of darkness. She felt something around her face, like a mask. It killed her with fear when she regained consciousness. Ronnie tried to move, but couldn’t.

She felt the rope around and around her body, firmly attached to a narrow couch. Her wrists were tightly tied together and pulled behind her head where they were stuck at the back of the couch.

I have and you know what an imagination is to waste a terrible thing. I came home from work one night. My husband was more interested in dating his friends and asked me to wait until he got home. We couldn’t hurry and I wanted to make it up to him, but now he really pissed me off.

Frustrated as hell, I decided I’d leave when he left and find my own pleasure. I was convinced that son of a bitch was cheating on me and I was tired of playing second violin. After all, I was too horny to sit at home and turn my thumbs. So I took a shower and did a low cut blouse (sheer bra), short skirt and 4 inch fuck me pumps. You know those who say, “Come fuck me now!”

You feel naked and scratchy under your short skirt. It’s weird being shaved. You haven’t felt that way since you were 12, and that’s all because of your perverted husband. He invited a friend to watch the fight. One thing led to another… Soon you were sucking. Al’s dick and your husband were cutting your beautiful shrub.

He was careful not to grab you, stroke your labia in the foam and pull the knife over your sensitive skin until every little curl was over. After you were naked, he sat and admired you for a while, his friend still held your ankles high and wide as he stuck himself deep down your throat. Then he licked you a little, delightful in your smoothness and the new feeling of your bald little pubes as he tongued your damp folds and mouthed your vagina’s sweetness. He nibbled at your clitoris, rolled it under his lips until you screamed in Al’s loins. Your kneeling assailant only took your sucks the harder your husband got up to undress. Now naked, his dick wagged upright and mean looking.

I found out my new friend Evelyn wasn’t that moody. She didn’t get upset easily. One day I was a little surprised by a small but sudden change in her mood. We were at the mall, and she asked me to go to one of those fancy women’s boutiques where she was gonna leave a dress she bought earlier. She kept me waiting at the register while she went back to the dressing room to drop off the dress. When she left she was in her usual pleasant, cheerful mood, but when she returned she suddenly seemed distracted and nervous. I was wondering why, but she didn’t say. She just said that the tailor was there, and that he would change the dress but first had to measure her. She said she’d be right back and then walk back to the dressing room. It’s a little funny, but when I saw her walk away, I thought about her body.

Strange how life ends! As a big lawyer now pro bono work in court I ran into an old friend; well, actually I had hoped she would be my girlfriend in college.

Sally B was still beautiful at 35 and I recognized her first and when I said her name when she was in my office she laughed and said, TIMMY! I could never forget that beautiful body, and I think she could forget a skinny little nerd. Then we shared the usual old stories. Who married, who divorced.

It was my first year in college when I got my first Big Black Cock. I remember the day vividly looking in the mirror in the bathroom and smiling at what I saw. A beautiful face with full lips and blue eyes and a head full of large blonde curls. I was dressed in a tight new skirt I had just bought and a cute little tank top. How pathetic that I wasted such a nice outfit on a boring night at my friend Neena’s house. I wasn’t wearing a bra and yet my great tits were perfect without a hint of sag. I ran my hands over my shirt and over my nipples. I was so horny and stuck here without a man.

I knew early on I wasn’t making her happy. Our sex drives didn’t seem right. When I was tired of work and wanted to sleep, she wanted to have sex. When I was rested and ready, she was less and less in the mood.

When I left school and worked full-time (two jobs), and she ended up in school, our social life was very different. My social life revolved around e-mails to my friends and family 2,000 miles away. My day off was spent every week with her and her family - church and dinner. She spent the evening with her friends, so-called the “sensible one” when she was drunk and chasing men. She also spent many weekends with her school clubs and visited her mother.

My wife is a beautiful woman, with long, fiery red hair and crystal green eyes. Her name is Karen and she’s six feet tall, shapeful legs. Her figure is perfect with full, sturdy tits of 39" that require a D-cup bra. Her hips are also 39" but not a gram of fat. She’s got the smoothest, tightest, rounded ass you’ve ever seen. Although her broad hips give her a big ass, her little 24" waist ends from her hour glass figure.