Written by @The_Perv_King
I love younger boys so much and I am not afraid to tell anyone that cares to listen.
I am a 42 year old woman with two beautiful children, and a husband. Noticed how I mentioned my children before my husband? Yeah, that’s because he’s an exceptional piece of shit. My husband began to cheat on me on the second year of our marriage, even before our first child and he’s been doing so ever since. We are still married but I wouldn’t call what we have a marriage. Would you?
After the birth of our first child, Nora, he became a good dad for a while and a caring husband for even less. I loathed him at the time but I felt I could do nothing. I allowed him do all he wanted to do and complained as much as I could.
I was 31 years old when we had our second child, Julian. A beautiful baby boy I actually expected him to be proud of me for giving him a male child but he only cared about his son.
I couldn’t be angrier.
As far as he was home and spent time with the kids but the kids wouldn’t stay tender forever. They grew up and he needed some more, he fucked me whenever he felt like but his lovemaking had dwindled to a few seconds of ‘thrust and grunt’ before his warm seed found its way into my vagina, seeking to fertilise my ovaries but I never became pregnant again.
Apparently, the birth of Julian had messed something up inside me and that meant the two kids we had are all we are going to have. That must have made Bari spite me more than he already did.
After the news of my condition, he returned to his withdrawn ways, I could see the effort he put in to appear caring whenever he came home and I had to play the part of the good wife. The bullshit went on for so long that I just got tired and waited for the day to come that he’d tell me he no longer wanted the marriage to go on but that day never came, which meant I had to keep keeping up with his bullshit.
It wasn’t until two years ago when I turned 40 that Bari stopped having sex with me altogether.
Previously it used to be once or twice a month, sometimes thrice if he was too drunk to know what he was doing, then he just suddenly stopped. I couldn’t understand why.
I stripped nude and looked at myself in the full length mirror several times. I still looked quite good at 40, my boobs weren’t saggy. My tummy looked okay even after two children, my flared hips could still swing in any direction I chose when I wanted men to stare.
My asscheeks were almost as good as when I was in my teens. I was mindful of my diet and hadn’t been eating anything that would add unnecessary weight to my body. Why did Bari stop having sex with me? I asked myself that.
Some days I lay in bed and remembered those first weeks we met and fucked like we were soulmates. The memories brought desire into me and I touched myself.
It wasn’t until those moments that I remembered Geraldine, my friend, had given me a vibrator when I had first told her about my husband and I’d scoffed and flung the thing into some God-forsaken place in the closet. I looked for it, found it, and used it for the first time.
Bari was not at home that night so I went on the internet and downloaded some ebony porn. I’d watched porn a couple or more times in my teens and the ones which had always turned me on the most was a black man having sex with black women.
Something about it was just so raw and so real. I finished downloading the porn and transferred it into a flash drive. Then I inserted the drive into the TV’s USB port, I lay back in bed, and covered myself up with the duvet as the couple on the TV went on to display about 5 minutes of awful acting before the tall black muscular guy grabbed the petite girl’s boobs and started sucking.
My nipples suddenly grew bigger and I played with them. Before long they were both naked and he had started using his tongue on her. Bari used to do that to me before we had our first child, back when all was well with our marriage.
I tried to imagine it was him on me, his tongue going deep inside me…but I couldn’t, I reached under the duvet and used my index and forefinger to part my pussy lips…toying with my clit as the man on the TV licked on hers. My heart rate began to increase as the desire grew inside me, I watched as the black guy stroked his massive cock a few times before guiding it slowly into her wet and waiting pussy.
Then, I reached for the vibrator,the duvet had been thrown to the side at this point and I was in nothing but my panties.
I inserted the vibrator slowly inside me and the sensation it gave me was so intense that I gasped as the vibrator began to open me up after a long time of not been penetrated, I pushed it in deeper and deeper.
My whole body shook violently as my first orgasm came over me, The black guy on the TV was slamming so hard and so fast inside her pussy and the sight of that only made me want more, I wanted to be slammed into like that too.
I wanted to feel the warmth of a man on me. Let his sweaty body glide against mine, a man who could use his tongue to taste my cum and tell me how sweet I tasted, a man who could fuck me and make me feel something deep inside of my belly.
The more I watched the porn, the angrier I became. At my husband! At myself!
I felt disgusted. I abruptly got up and switched off the TV, I couldn’t take anymore, anymore of the porn, of Bari’s cheating, Of my submissiveness to him even though he never acknowledged it.
Anymore of the loneliness and the lack of good sex. I made up my mind that evening that I was going to break my wedding vows. I looked at the ring on my left ring-finger, I looked at it for a very long time before I removed it, I’d never removed it in the 12 years I’d been married to him.
It took some effort but with the application of coconut oil to the finger it finally came off. I dropped it on my bedside table. If he asked I’d planned to tell him I’d gotten fat and it was beginning to feel too tight, but something told me he would never ask, and he never did.
That night, at about 8:45pm… while still waiting for my husband to return from wherever it was he was having sex with his mistress, I made up my mind to look for someone else who would treat me the way I wanted to be treated.
Enough was enough.
The next day… I met a guy named Deolu.
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