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Click hereI use to work in a coffee shop just after I married my husband, Joe. It was mostly women who worked there, however there were some young 18 or 19 year old guys working their way through college. My boss, Paul who was also the owner of the coffee shop was also a young man in his twenties.
One morning when it was extra busy at the coffee shop we ran out of coffee grounds in the front so I went to grab some from the storage room but it was still locked. I asked Paul for the key and he just said, "it's in my pocket and my hands are covered in batter." Paul was busy helping the baker and we needed the coffee grounds now, so I reached in his pocket and felt for the keys but instead of the keys I found his cock. I ran my fingers across it trying to gauge its size until Paul told me the keys were in his other pocket.
About a week later we had another day just like it and again I needed the keys from Paul who said they're in his pocket. Only this time I reached in the wrong pocket on purpose and when Paul said they're in his other pocket, I winked and said I know.
That day when things got quieter, Paul asked me to help him take inventory in the supply room. As we entered, Paul locked the door and dropped his pants. Paul said, "you've been enjoying feeling it in my pocket, I thought you'd enjoy it more out of my pants." I was a bit surprised, but I wasted no time and dropped to my knees to suck his cock. Paul's cock was bigger than Joe's but it was still small enough that I had no problem getting it all in my mouth.
After a few minutes, Paul stood me up and started undressing me. As soon as I was naked he bent me over the counter and fucked me doggie style. After Paul cam inside of me I realized Paul hadn't put on a condom and I wasn't on the pill.
Before we left the storage room, Paul gave me an anklet. He told me that he gives one to all the married women he fucks and tells them to wear it on their left ankle as on as they're still open to fucking and to wear it on their right ankle if they're looking to get fucked that day. When I returned to the front I noticed the anklet on a couple of the other women.
That night at home I was wearing it on my left ankle and Joe noticed. He asked wear the ankle bracelet came from. I told him that Paul gave them to a few of the women at work that he likes to call, "his ladies." Joe looked at me funny when I said that but he didn't say anything.
"Do you know what it means when a married woman wears an anklet," I asked Joe.
Joe replied, "no, what does it mean?"
"I was just wondering if you knew." I said without answering his question.
I soon found out that the college students at work knew what the anklets meant. Any day I wore the anklet on my right ankle I was guaranteed to be fucked by one of them or Paul. Since they all had larger cocks than Joe and better stamina and they were just better lovers, I started wearing the anklet on my right anytime I wanted sex and hardly bother fucking Joe. In fact the only times I fucked Joe after getting the anklet was when I felt a duty to fuck my husband. Fucking Joe became a chore and something I did out of pity.
A few months later Joe went to the company Christmas party with me. I of coarse wore the anklet on my right ankle. Paul was hugging and kissing all the women with anklets right in front of their husbands. While Paul was hugging me, he told me that it is an open bar to help get the husbands drunk. He then put a pill in my hand and said if Joe doesn't get drunk enough to not notice you leaving with me, just put this sleeping pill in his drink.
Joe didn't need the sleeping pill. I kept bringing him drinks and he lost count. Before long he was so drunk that I knew he wouldn't remember anything by tomorrow.
When I went into the private room to find Paul, three of the other women were already with him. I quickly got naked and joined them. Paul fucked each of us and cam inside of me. I realized than that Paul cam inside me without a condom on in the past few months far more time than my husband did all year. The college guys wore condoms when they fucked me.
Where's the ending.and what does this mean? "tells them to wear it on their left ankle as on as they're still open to fucking and to wear it on their right ankle if they're looking to get fucked that day." Right ankle if they want to get fucked, so left ankle should mean that they don't, but we have this, "wear it on their left ankle as on as they're still open to fucking." That also says "open to fucking, though "as on as they're still open" doesn't really make sense.
1 because you can't give a zero! Not even approaching a story...just some slut fantasy notes.
how about being the friend you once were to each other and let the other go!! I realize the truth is nothing more than greed, but this is not love and it not the act of a friend. (and no this is not just a story)
Try writing a story instead of a random collection of words. Start with an outline.
It’s not really a story. It doesn’t start somewhere and go somewhere else. No conflict. No tension. No story.
I actually enjoyed the story. But then again, I enjoy leaving Hubby at home on Girls Night Out and wear my anklet on my left ankle and a Chastity key on a chain around my neck. There is a ring on my finger, but my pussy still thinks it is single.
At first I couldn't see the point of this, then the light bulb went on; the author was trying to cram as many scumbags who shouldn't still be alive into as short a story as possible. The only exception was Joe, not a scumbag but a man so bereft of intellect as to suggest that his mother and his sister are the same person.
I don't see the appeal of this. Was it just to write the most disgusting story the author could think of?
Paul needs to have the worst beating of his life, away from everyone. I would be better if he just went away. It wouldn't be a bad idea for his wife and the other whores, too.
There is no plot beyond sex among employees in the storage room. Not one of the characters is admirable. All the employees are simple sex machines. Even the husband is brain dead and can't perceive the clear infidelity signals wifey is showing. None of the sexcapades are erotic. Narrating wife is a despicable slut.
On the positive note, basic writing is strong, grammar good.
Keep 'em comin'.
A cheating slut flash. It kinda goes nowhere. Does she like make hapless Joe raise Pauls sperm deposits?