Memories of My First Husband

I dared not look at Jim as I reached out to lick the tip and slid my tongue up and down the shaft. After a few more kissings and oral explorations, I spit it out fearing he would cum in my mouth. Not wanting to leave him high and dry, I gave him a vigorous massaging with my hand.

Another splash of semen - this time into my fist - and the contestant withdrew.

Soon yet another cock. This one I surrendered to, slipping it into my mouth for a while before I began to taste the salty hint of pre-cum. I spit him out just in time to avoid a mouthful of cum that hit the floor with force.

If I had thought about it, I wouldn't have done it, but I saw those cocks and just followed my desires. Jim came quickly after watching me take a thick throbbing monster, and I thought he had enjoyed it.

He came a lot.

The feel of being full brought me to my senses, and soon enough he was zipping up and I moved to retrieve my panties and dress from the floor.

While dressing, I realized I was going to have to leave the theatre and go through the hotel lobby with multiple soaked areas on my dress. It had been in a wad on the floor - and a few of the men had shot wads on the floor as well. Nothing feels quite so unattractive as cum gone cold.

It was doubly embarrassing when we opened the door. Many men had accumulated around our door as we played, seemingly standing in a line for their turn. They all looked at me as we made our hasty exit. I could feel their disappointment and their lust, and some part of me wanted to go back in that small stall and take them one-by-one.

On the way back to the hotel, Jim was distant and short with me, practically dragging me to the room and insisting on a shower for both of us (taken separately) before we were off to bed. I was confused and thought that perhaps he was just fucked out, as he had filled me full that night. I let him go to sleep and then urgently masturbated myself to sleep, wondering when we would be able to do this again.

I didn't realize it as the time, but I had judged Jim's reaction exactly wrong. My performance that night bothered Jim more than I had ever imagined it would. He wouldn't kiss me and hardly touched me for days. He was cold and even jealous, which was something he had never been before.

A week or so later we began having sex again. Jim was not to be denied. But it was distant and impersonal. I felt like a prostitute again, just going through the motions until the man in my mouth or between my legs was done getting sticking his cock in me.

In the wake of the event, Jim traveled more, and the excursions to the naughty motels and theatres stopped. Our friends called us to play, but Jim was never in the mood.

A few months later he made the sudden decision that we needed to move to Seattle because Washington had no income tax, but I knew he wanted to get away from what we had become. The house sold in a few days - a pure cash offer - and we were on our way north within the month.

I learned then that Jim enjoyed living on the edge of the sexual revolution but didn't cross the line. I was confused by that, but also comforted. My last long-term boyfriend had put me in a position to perform with other men many times, and I was glad that Jim wouldn't do that. His cock would be the only one I'd be touching for a long time after that, and in fact, I found myself liking his cock more knowing that it was the only one I had to keep happy.

I found myself pregnant not long after arriving in Washington state, and had two girls in quick succession. It seemed to repair the relationship. The joys and obligations of parenthood repairing damage and settling us into a home life that looked very close to normal.

We evolved into an old married couple, which both comforted me and bored me. I decided then to return to work, taking with me my education which netted me a job well beyond my capabilities.

You'd think that after all the cocks I'd sucked and men I'd fucked, it would be simple enough to just be celibate and accommodating, and I was for a while, but then I fucked it all up and it all went downhill from there. I fucked clients and co-workers. Even a neighbor who cut my lawn.

Over the next few years, I cheated on Jim behind his back that I didn't even think about it when the opportunity came to touch another man's cock in front of him. (A long story better told on its own - read my story "Two Couples - One Houseboat.")

It ended my marriage, which was a shame. I owed Jim so much for rescuing me from my dead-end life and giving me so much. But in the end, once a whore, always a whore.

When I needed to, I couldn't change who I was inside. I just got better at hiding my darker side when I got married the next time.