Help Me Dear Diary

Dear Diary:

I am writing this ... well because I need a way to organize my thoughts, and my emotions and, well to sort myself out.

I don't think anyone will read this, but in case you do...

I'm middle aged (choose for yourself how I look -- but I'll tell you now I'm fairly happy with my body image even though I am not the perfect sex goddess), 2.4 children (two daughters and a dog) and married.

To date I've been satisfied with my life. I married Brian quite happily, if at a young age. We've lived together for 20 years - also happily, well for the most part. Like any relationship we have our ups and downs. Jenna and Sharon are wonderful daughters. I have a job, a family, hobbies. I have a life that many people would envy. Nothing extravagant, we don't have a mansion, but we have a nice house in a small town with some land. We have a pool and a hot tub, and we go on vacations to the Caribbean and are planning on a trip to the Med or Greece. Jenna is going to university and Sharon will be in a couple of years.

What more could I want?

I don't know. I've been growing more and more dissatisfied with my life. I guess a man would just feel trapped and break from routine by forcing change, at least on the surface. He'd go out and buy a small red sports car and find a young blond to try and recapture his youth.

I feel ... well less. I'm less needed. Jenna certainly doesn't need me now and Sharon is living her own life if under our roof.

Less desired. Sex with Brian has become routine, the same ... dull. God don't let him read this.

Less interested in life. I still read and run and golf and cook and I do all the hobbies I enjoy, but I get less satisfaction out of it. I used to be able to read for hours. A good book I'd finish in a couple of days. Now I put the book down after an hour.

I'm horny, Dear Diary. Really horny all the damn time. I don't remember being this horny ever. Nor this ... interested, that's the best word, interested in sex. Porn never held any fascination for me but now, after the house is empty for the day, I will spend hours on line; reading porn, watching porn. I masturbate daily, multiple times daily. Brian doesn't know, he wouldn't understand that I have a treasure chest full of toys.

It isn't that the vibrators replace him, rather that they ... they ... supplement him. With Brian it's like I have permission to have sex, that it is normal, even expected that I let him fuck me. But with my toys that seems slightly taboo. Slightly naughty and that is EXCITING.

-----

I was naughty again this morning Dear Diary. Brian had left for work and Sharon was gone, so I went back to bed and lay on my back. It feels so good to just touch myself. I get wet so easily. This morning I was watching porn and this girl was getting fucked in her ass. I couldn't help but wonder how that would feel. So ...

This is actually hard to admit in writing ... even if it's just in my diary.

I took a slim vibrator and lubed it up and put it in my ass. Oh fuck Dear Diary, why does that feel so good? My ass is not for that, not for pleasure. It was wrong, obviously, but being wrong it was exciting. I came I actually squirted, really hard, I had to change the sheets I made such a mess. I've never squirted before.

-----

I ... met someone.

I never thought I'd ever cheat on Brian. But ...

I went golfing today.

Okay so Heidi, Tamara, Lisa, and I normally go to the golf club in our little town. It's old, there's no real clubhouse, and the greens are not great, but it's cheap and local. But for a change we decided to try this new place. It's about twenty minutes away in the neighbouring town. New meant that it didn't have a lot of trees, it did have long open fairways and a new clubhouse with a bar, which our local golf club didn't. I got there early.

I had to, frankly. I needed to get out of the house, or I would soon be watching more porn. And as much as I enjoy masturbating like that, I don't want it to become an addiction. I'd heard people can get addicted to it.

So I'd been there maybe fifteen minutes, still an hour and a half before the round of golf. I was on my phone, and I will admit I was reading porn. Yes, I know what I said a moment ago, but I was weak. And you know something, it was kinda hot getting all turned on in a public place like that.

So I was sitting in the clubhouse drinking wine, alone and this guy comes and sits down at my table. There were plenty of other empty tables, but he sits at mine without so much as a 'May I join you?' and says "I'm David."

Nothing more; no pleasantries, no pickup lines not even, "Do you come here often?" or "Haven't seen you here before." just, "I'm David."

What do you do when someone does that? I could have glared at him and ignored him or been rude in reply to a dumb pickup line. But how do you respond to "I'm David"? So I said "I'm Anna".

And we started chatting. He is thirteen years older than me, has a handicap of 15 and is married. They have one son who has long since moved out.

That surprises you doesn't it? That he is married I mean. Well he is married. So what? So am I.

He sat next to me and touched me. Just his hand on mine. I didn't flinch away. His left hand, the one across from me, the one with his wedding ring, drew little circles on my hand. Then gently slid up my wrist caressing it. I was happy, we were talking. Under the table his right hand landed on my knee...

Have you ever really looked at golfing skirts? They are actually pretty damn short. Some of them have shorts underneath. Some of them, like the ones I was wearing, don't and sitting at the table it had ridden somewhat higher than mid thigh.

As his hand slid up my leg I thought 'I'm glad these aren't lined.' The thought shook me. I was glad, I was enjoying the caresses, I smiled at him. I guess he took it as encouragement because his fingers slipped up under the hem of my skirt.

I think three things aligned at that moment. One I was horny. I always seem to be these days and it didn't help that, when he came to the table, I'd been in the middle of a story of a woman deep in the throes of pleasure at the hands of a very dominant personality. Two David was paying attention to me. Not just to be polite. He was genuinely interested in me, smiling, and reacting to things I was saying. Three he was confident. He was confident in his approach, confident in his talk and confident in his touches. In retrospect he was probably good at manipulation, looking into my eyes, responding to what I was saying, tricks of the trade to ingratiate yourself with someone.

But it worked. To be honest I felt a bit of a jellyfish in his company, weak willed and controlled.

I admit here, now freely ... I liked it. I was melting a little inside and a velvety fist was clenching quite firmly somewhere around my abdomen. A mixture of anxiety and arousal and, I'm afraid to admit, lust had me on a boil. Just being noticed though, being wanted, and treated as a person was enough. When he leaned closer to me, his fingers gently tickling my labia through the thin cotton of my panties and suggested we find somewhere more private.

Well, what would you have done?

His house was on the golf course, near the fourteenth green. It was new, and small. I found it almost sterile in its styling. But it was clean.

He kissed me in the front hall with passion; tongues probed and licking.

He's hand was firmly under my skirt and inside my panties. He called me a slut. I should have slapped him and walked away. Instead, I melted against him, my knees week. I liked it, the thought of being easy and of being bad.

He pushed me into the bedroom, forced my legs apart, pushing the crotch of my panties to one side and licked me.

I screamed, I moaned. He yanked my panties off pushed my skirt higher and dove right between my legs. I was a slut for him, I begged him to eat me, to lick my pussy, to eat my cunt to make me cum.

I squirted, and he ate me. He continued to eat me right through the fountain. I was cuming and couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop.

I was in a daze when he climbed off me. He pulled me around so I was on my back with my head hanging off the side of the bed and pushed his cock into my mouth. I moaned staring up at his balls as he fucked my throat. I've never been dominated like that. It felt so demeaning, so perverted. I was helpless. It could have been called rape except I was loving every second.

He manscaped. I don't know if you've ever been with a guy who shaves, but it's better! There is no smell, the hair doesn't tickle your nose or get caught in the back of your throat. You have a fantastic view of his scrotum. I don't know if you've ever examined a scrotum. Most of the time I don't think of them as attractive, but with a throbbing cunt and a cock deep in your throat it was the hottest view I could have at that moment.

When he pulled back I sucked and slurped on him, I licked his cock from stem to stern and sucked on his balls. I jerked him off and sucked him some more. I have never really stretched my oral skills, but I tried to be like the girls in the porn videos I'd seen. I didn't consider the kink, or the risks. I just ... sucked him, licked him, made him fuck my face. It felt ... weird and good.

I never gagged even as his cock brushed the back of my throat. If he was watching, he could have seen my throat bulging around where he was forcing his cock.

He swore at me, called me a bitch and a whore and a slut. He called me a cunt. I was. "Fucking suck that cock you whore," made me hotter, "Fucking cheating bitch," made me wetter, "Swallow my cum cunt," made me eager to please.

Every word was true, I was a whore and a slut. I was a cheating bitch. None of it mattered. It turned me on being called those things. I should have been insulted, instead it spurred me on to new heights of depravity.

I don't normally like being manhandled violently. But when he picked me up bodily and threw me on the bed I let him. I let him yank my legs apart, forcing my skirt up around my waist. I helped him as he yanked on my hips positioning my ass high in the air and my face buried in a pillow. I pulled my back down and my pussy out so he could fuck me.

He fucked me from behind. Doggy style had never been so ... animalistic. I didn't even think about protection. I wanted him, skin on skin. I wanted to feel him inside me. I begged him to fill me, cum inside me. All I could think about was the feeling of his cock pulsing. I swear I could feel his cum shoot inside me, hot and gooey and ... deep inside me where no one has actually ever cum other than Brian.

I left.

There was no cuddling, no soft romantic talk. I didn't want any nor did he, I guess. I just left.

-----

I just re-read what I wrote yesterday. I am holding myself back from editing it. I want to record my feelings at the time. As badly written and as ... unforgiving as it may be.

Don't see me in a bad light. I needed that that afternoon.

After I left, I drove back to the golf course, my panties soaked against my pussy, the thin cotton the only thing preventing David's load of cum from dribbling down my legs. I sat in the car for a few minutes. I didn't regret what had happened exactly, I felt guilty about Brian, yes, but didn't regret David.

The fact that ... I've had sex a fair amount in my life, no more no less than your average women I'd guess. But with the exception of Brian they had ALL been wearing condoms. Brian is the only man ... was the only man ever to cum inside of me. Now David had too. And that put him in a very small fraternity of two guys who had had me like that. In a way it means I belong to him. And that thought makes me wet all over again.

I met the girls, we played golf, I didn't do too badly. I went home.

Why don't I feel more guilty?

You know what I did last night? Masturbated again, this time with only my fingers. David's cum was still inside me and I stuck my fingers as deep as I could, pulling it out of me. I licked my fingers. I'm sure I could taste his cum.

I betrayed Brian. I don't feel bad about that. I have no intention of leaving Brian. I have no intention of seeing David again.

Really I don't.

I masturbated again today. Not to porn, but to memories of David.

-----

You know I just realized that when I fucked David I didn't get undressed. I still had my golf shirt and skirt on. He never saw my breasts. He didn't strip either. Just his pants on the floor.

We were animals, so ... desperate for each other.

I wish I had his phone number.

-----

I was a bad girl today. I went back to the golf course. Not to golf, not this time. I hoped David was there.

Stupid wasn't it? I went expecting to feel good and I'm disappointed I wasn't.

He wasn't there and I'm disappointed about that too. Why am I disappointed that I didn't see him? I don't love him.

I was a slut...

NO

I AM a slut. I liked being used like that. David did use me. But that excited me. Brian never used me. He cared for me, he still does. But David...

I want to be used again.

I'm going back to the golf course tomorrow. If I see him, ...

-----

He was there.

He saw me and smiled.

We talked about the sex. About what he wanted, what I wanted.

We didn't have sex. He's coming here, tomorrow. Just after eight. Brian will be gone, he leaves about half past seven to get into the office. Sharon leaves at eight for school. Jenna is away.

We'll have the house to ourselves until three. Sharon gets home at half past.

I'm going to be his slut again.

This is a deliberate decision this time. An arranged tryst. Last time I cheated on Brian it was... accidental. This time it isn't.

I'm soaking just thinking about it.

-----

Oooh fuck. David just left. It's two thirty. Where do I start.

I met him at the door in jeans and a t-shirt. He was wearing a golf shirt and golf pants. I guess that's what he told his wife he was going to do, golf.

Do you know what his first words were to me? Not "Hi," or "You're beautiful" or any other pleasantry. He just smiled and said "I'm going to use you like a whore today."

And you know what I did? Guess. It shouldn't be hard, not if you've guessed my state of mind.

I stepped over the threshold of our house and melted against him like some sort of bimbo brained, air headed, teenage slut. Anyone could have seen, neighbours, what if Brian had forgotten something and come back. He has before, or Sharon? I didn't care. I kissed him on the front stairs like a sexed starved slut.

First he took me in the living room where he sat on the couch and had me suck him off. This time he wanted me to make him cum so he'd last longer. He came on my face, spraying a load of cum on my cheeks and chin and across my mouth. He liked watching that, seeing me get so messy.

I don't usually like getting messy, it's ... messy, sticky and cum dries leaving a crusty residue if you don't clean up.

He made my wipe it off with my fingers and lick them clean.

Then he had me undress. He wanted to see me naked this time. Not the hurried fuck we had at his place but a more leisurely chance to explore my body. I sat on his lap, naked. He was dressed. We kissed and he played with me. He pinched my nipples, the sharp pain an exciting counterpoint to the pleasure of his fingers on my clit. He fingered me deeply, two and three fingers stretching me open as I leaned against him, my legs splayed wantonly apart like the whore I was.

I was soaked, squelching wet sounds filled the living room as he fingered me.

He took me to our bed. My marriage bed. He stripped off and lay on his back and had me crawl over to him and play with his cock. He wanted me to make him hard again. I kissed it and licked it, sucking on him. He had me jerk him off gently while I licked his balls, sucking one ball sack, then the other into my mouth.

He had me lick his ass.

I licked his ass. Oh fuck I felt so dirty, so perverted, so horny. I LICKED HIS FUCKING ASSHOLE.

I rimmed him while I jerked his cock, then took the crown of his penis in my mouth as he came. He liked me being messy, so I was. I let his cum dribble from my mouth, down over my hand, over my wedding ring.

That caught me for a moment, then my pussy clenched at the thought of cheating on Brian. I realised I was getting off on fucking David in my marriage bed, on cheating on Brian on being David's slut.

I let his cum dribble down my chin and smiled at him and asked him if he liked being sucked off by a married woman. He said he wanted to fuck my married pussy.

Oh god. It has become something between us. Not just the sex, but the cheating. We are getting off on cheating.

He made me lick him clean and swallow his cum.

We lay there talking, he was gently fingering me. I hadn't cum yet, and I wanted to. He had me touch myself, finger myself for him. He told me he wanted to fuck me, to give me a messy cream pie. I told him about how I'd licked my fingers clean of his cum after masturbating the night we'd first met.

He grinned at me. He was getting hard again. It was almost one.

He climbed on top of me. We were both naked this time and I reveled in the feel of his body against mine. He told me to guide him in, and I rubbed his cock over my dripping cunt, then positioned it so he could push.

I can feel it now sliding into me. Fuck.

He fucked me slowly. Stretching out the moment, his cock sliding achingly deeper and deeper into me, then pulling out then oh so frustratingly slowly back in again and again.

Then he was on top of me and he whispered in my ear, "I'm going to cum and I want you to make your husband eat my cum out of you."

I exploded, he exploded. We saw stars, we swore, we panted and sweated.

I have to change the sheets and shower.

-----

I did it.

What David wanted. I showered after he left yesterday sort of. Removing the sweat and cum from my face and hair. But I didn't wash my pussy, except a light rinse of the labia.

I felt like such a slut. The rest of the afternoon. I couldn't wait for Brian to get home. I imagined I could feel my pussy squelching every time I took a step, squelching from cum inside me.

I dressed in a nice dress.

I kissed and made a fuss of Brian.

I seduced him.

I made him eat me. And all the time his tongue was on my pussy I thought of David fucking me. Of David telling me to feed Brian his creampie.

I clenched my Kegels, cum oozed from within me, I moaned, I gyrated, I pulled Brian's hair forcing his face deeper into my cunt. I clenched again and ground my cummy pussy into his face.

Brian moaned into my cunt. I was sacred he knew what was happening, I felt like such a slut. I felt evil obeying David like this and betraying Brian.

I was so turned on.

Brian didn't know. He commented afterwards how turned on I'd been, how wet and musky. He told me it had been so hot to have me grind on his face like that.

I almost blushed. I kissed him gently, tasting David on his lips. I let him fuck me afterwards.

It was good, it wasn't David.

-----

I feel guilty about Brian.

I still find myself getting turned on at what I did. I'll do it again if David tells me to.

I was watching porn this morning, I deliberately looked up creampie eating and cuckolding. I guess that's what I'm doing is cuckolding Brian.

I get turned on thinking about cuckolding Brian. Why does it get me horny thinking of him eating David's cum?

I gave David my mobile number yesterday. I hope he texts. I'm not going to text him first. I may be a slut but I want him to ...

He texted. Right as I was typing that last line, he sent me a text. It wasn't nice, he called me a whore, and a slut and a pervert ... he said he was going to use me. I am so fucking wet.

I'm going to send him a nude.