I Need Help, Stretch and Cum in Me

I was pregnant. My husband is a well educated lawyer, runner, good father, and dotting husband. He's funny in the sense that he has really well planned humor. He is tallish like almost 6 feet with a slim profile and a little nerdy. He's blonde and kinda good looking, if you squint hard. I always thought I would end up with someone a little more athletic, but I guess he made up for it in stability.

We met in college where he was dorky funny. He played frisbee and studied law. I was a freshman and he seemed very confident with running, his law society, and frisbee. He was deep, emotional, and seemed to care greatly about making the world a better place. I guess that's what you get when you go to a private catholic school in Seattle.

I was a little dorky, but everyone complimented me on how pretty I was. The theater and drama boys would all flirt with me and make awkward conversation. I sang in the acapella group, danced, and did drama club. I felt out of place thinking these were my people, but always had the thought in the back of my head that I was a little better than them.

The athletes always flirted with me and told me I was hot. It made me feel worthy that I was good enough and cool enough to hang out in their group. I figured when I got to college I could re-invent myself or become the blossoming butterfly I always wanted to be. I was a little cold and bitchy.

Tyler, this super cute, muscular, confident guy approached me and asked if I wanted to go to a party. I was very excited, but nervous. I forced myself out of my comfort zone and and ended up meeting new people there. He was flirting with the soccer girls and the lacrosse girls and the field hockey girls and swimming girls. I just felt so out of place.

I noticed he was kind to a guy named Zack, but everyone else made fun of Zack. He was a little dorky and self-righteous, but it was cute. He led the orientation group and I noticed he was very nerdy funny, confident of his skills. We talked and met around campus later that year and I eventually committed to him. After he went to law school we got engaged and married. The house and kids came next.

I always felt guilty that I flirted with Tyler the whole time throughout college. I never acted on it. I probably would have, given enough time, but Tyler left college and we didn't initially kept in contact. I think about him from time to time but just push him out of my mind.

After the birth of our first child, I swore I would never have another kid again. It hurt. I wasn't ready for it, and frankly I only wanted kids to please Zack. I still felt un-fulfilled in a very selfish way. I had everything - the perfect house, neighborhood, car, family, friends, country club, and guy. My husband was wealthy, respected, and cared about me.

I don't know why, but I started to hate him for how much of a dork he was. He planned everything. He knew everything. He was always smarter than everyone else. He always knew better than others. He was condescending. I felt his respect wasn't earned but just given because he seemed like a clean cut guy who made good decisions. Classic white male privilege. I enjoyed being a part of it, don't get me wrong, but I never got to scratch that sexual rebellious bad girl itch in college and it followed me up until now.

I don't know what made me reach out to Tyler, but I started by following him on instagram under a fake account. I wanted to see who he was following, where he went, and if he would even be interested in sex with a married woman. He didn't fall for the bait. I figured he's got many other girls so I deleted the account. I followed him one night, after a few too many glasses of wine, from my real account hoping he would rekindle something inside of him from seeing my face.

I woke up to a couple of likes from him on my photos. I noticed it was always a photo of me and never photos of Zack and I. Curious. I was happy and frightened at the same time. Should I message back or leave it alone? This was all a mistake. I fought the urge for weeks until I finally caved and sent him a hello smiley face. I guess I was happy that he didn't fall for a random beautiful woman, but he couldn't help but like me. My face is what got him excited. I knew it was wrong, but Zack didn't even have instagram, he was too good for it.

Zack always tried to please me in bed, but he was so mechanical. It's like he read an article on how to please a woman and did exactly that. Like he does in his career, he wanted to win so he planned and practiced. It was somewhat predictable and cute when he tried to mix it up. I could tell he still got nervous, but enjoyed sex more than I did. He did all the right things, tried to read my cues, etc. but it was just too robotic. Too transactional. I wanted to be fucked. I wanted someone to take me, rather than my husband and I "bonding" and "breathing" and all the other marriage counselor words.

Tyler rode motorcycles and sports cars, played sports like real sports (not cycling or jogging), hunted in his outdoorsy kind of way, and had an ethical code about him. He seemed strong and fierce and intense and loyal and fun. He seemed like he could do everything and anything. He was smart, but not in your face kind of way. He was something mysterious that Zack was not.

Zack and I finally got pregnant again (we went to the doctors a lot). It was a drag to be in this situation again. Thinking no one would want me now that I'm plumped up. I was embarrassed that Tyler would see me this way. So before I got too big, I came on to him. At first he was a gentleman and didn't pursue it, he finally caved. I picked him up and we had sex in the back of my car that my husband paid for.

It went on for a few weeks, and god was he good in bed. Tyler asked why I was so interested in having sex with him now when I was reserved and conservative for so long. I told him I was getting fed up with Zack and I always wanted to have sex without worrying about getting pregnant. Now that I'm knocked up, I don't have to worry about pulling out, condoms, birth control, etc. I could just have sex in the moment when it was hot and felt right. He some how made me feel sexy being a growing pregnant woman.

I rationalized it because I read an article that having sex with large penis men before actually giving birth would make the process easier because it would stretch out my vagina. It would make me looser and easier all together. But it was really because I loved cheat.

I loved cheating. The thrill. The sex. It was amazing. I told myself I could do it now because I couldn't get pregnant with Tyler's baby because I was already pregnant. There was something oddly dominant about how his dick is pounding so close to Zack's growing baby. It was hot sex and it was a hot situation. I also loved that Tyler was so much larger. He was long, girthy, hard, veiny, and aggressive. The thickness is what scared me, but I began to crave it. It was so amazing to feel stretched - I rationalized that it would help me with the pain of delivery. It would loosen up my vagina and I would blame it on the baby if Zack ever got sad.

I continue, to this day, to fuck Tyler when I get a chance. I keep reassuring and comforting Zack that I'll go back close to normal soon, but I'll never be the same because of the kids. He feels a little guilty for pressuring me to have a kid and less likely to push me to have another kid, which both together is great. He also feels smaller as a man unable to please me, but we've bought toys. I've really explored my sexual boundaries with Tyler. We use toys, his girlfriends play with us, he even pee'd on me a couple of times. I didn't mind it actually.

I found that cheating while pregnant was amazing. It physically prepared me because wider, bigger cocks make help me with delivery. And because I can't get pregnant so I can fuck multiple men unprotected with little consequence. There is something dominate about how Tyler can finish in me that's so sexy. It makes sex that much more sensual and I feel so used - he came in me! I feel like a dirty toy that he uses spray his cum in then leave. He stretches me out, satisfies me, then fills me up and it's all in the interest of an easier birth and no double pregnancy (me cheating, getting fucked, getting pleased whenever I want and not feeling guilty about getting my pussy beat up.)