Traffic was backed up for miles. Didn't look like I'd be going anywhere anytime soon. So . . . did I want to sit here reliving the sweaty hour and a half I'd just spent in a Motel 6 with a big-breasted, long-legged nineteen-year-old fucktoy ? Or did I want to fantasize about the hot sex I was going to have later that night with my wife after I'd told her about this afternoon's steamy fun ? Hmmmmm . . . It was a toss-up.

Lori, Laura, Dori, Donna ? What was the girl's name this afternoon ? I couldn't remember. Truth was, I hadn't wanted to know. I specialized in screwing cash-strapped college girls. I find them online, and I pick a new one every week - no repeats - not ever. They looked good, and their bodies were taut and firm. And they did whatever I told them to do; no questions asked. No bullshit, no romance. Just quick and easy paid-for sex, pure and simple. But these girls weren't professionals (yet); they were just holes for me to shoot my cum into.

Shelly (my wife) likes fucking business guys. Suits. Suits with a lot of cash to spend on her. They come here (Denver) for business and they check into four-star hotels. Shelly dresses like a high-class hooker and meets them in the hotel bar. After a few drinks, the guy buys her a nice meal and then they return to his hotel room, where my lovely wife proceeds to fuck his brains out. Then she comes home and tells me all about it - blow by blow. (no pun intended) And then she and I screw until we're completely and totally wasted.

Our sex life hadn't always been so complicated, so interesting or so much fun. We'd been married nearly twenty years when I'd noticed it was falling apart. Wasn't anything special - just the same shit everyone else had to deal with; except we weren't dealing with it too well . . . we each had a full-time job and she had a part-time one too, but we still had gigantic financial problems. And then there was the stress and strain of raising two girl-crazy teen-aged boys. Both of our guys were a handfull.
Over time, Shelly and I had just sort of stopped talking to each other. It had been a gradual thing, but now we hardly ever spent any time together anymore. She was staying away from the house as often as possible. I was always gone, too. I spent my spare time hanging out at the local taverns, hitting on and picking up all the local bar sluts, while Shelly was out at the mall - spending, spending, spending . . . She spent her way clear up to $30,000.00 in credit card debt before we sat down and started talking about everything. By that time, she'd filed for divorce, which came as a real surprize to me. She also confessed to having a string of one-nighters, which also came as a surprize to me. She says she always picked the guys from craigslist or online dating sites and that it was always only sex (nothing emotional) - and that she only ever did it in the first place because I neglected her and made her feel sexually unattractive.

I felt really guilty that I'd made her feel unattractive - especially since she wasn't. Quite the contrary. I didn't fuck ugly broads. Yeah, I felt bad - but not bad enough to tell her about all the skanky bar sluts I'd fucked over the past couple of years. I'd buy 'em a drink or two and they'd be all wet and ready - for me; for anyone; didn't really matter. None of these silly little slits had ever meant anything to me, so there was no point in making Shelly feel worse than she already did. No point in giving her any extra ammunition, either - especially since she spent a lot of time talking to her divorce lawyers on the phone these days. That's lawyerS - with an "s". As in plural. She'd hired a whole tribe of the bastards. They scared me shitless. I could see the end of the road rising up to meet me. I'd never get to see my kids anymore and I'd be living on cheap domestic beer and mac and cheese out of a box. In a crap apartment. Nah, not for me . . .

So I got her all juiced up one night on expensive champagne and cooked her favorite meal and laid the whole dirty deal out straight for her. The entire family was going to have to take a massive hit in the lifestyle department if she and I called it quits. There would be no more fancy-dancy meals like this one. No more designer clothes for my darling; she'd be lucky if her budget would stretch as far as new stuff from K-Mart. No more private school for the boys, either. Ski trips and vacations would be non-existant. Even little things like restaurant meals would soon be a thing of the past. I saw the panic set in on her pretty little perfectly made-up face. My hot little wife hated to cook.

When she heard that we'd have to sell the house she decided maybe we ought to try to stay together. I knew I could make her see things my way. She loved this house and had done all the decorating herself. We decided we'd both go our separate ways; fuck whoever we wanted to fuck but we'd continue to live together and present a united front to the rest of the world, even to the boys. The whole charade would be easier to pull off if I slept in the guest room. So that's what I did. But I still kept all my clothes in the room I shared with Shelly, and the boys never knew anything was different.

I watched her getting all dolled up to go out night after night - and then I'd hear her come stumbling up the stairs much later. I knew what she'd been up to - and the thought of other men (faceless anonymous strangers, no less) having a go at my wife's sweet pussy made my dick get really hard. I really wanted to watch. I asked her once if she'd have sex at our house - I could hide in the closet and watch - but she said she had to draw the line somewhere. I had to admit thinking about her fucking other men made me look at her in a whole different light. I started wanting her non-stop. My dick was always hard.

So one night after she'd come home late and gone to bed, I snuck down the hall and crawled into bed with her. She was a little tipsy and at first wasn't into it, but I buried my head between her legs and started licking and she changed her mind in a hurry. I knew I was licking another man's cum mixed with her cunt juices, but right now I didn't care. I just wanted to have sex with my own wife again. A couple of weeks of nothing but bar sluts had only made me want her more than ever.

Within a matter of minutes, I'd made her cum with my tongue. But I knew my wife, and she was just getting started. She'd had a baby orgasm, then climbed on top of me and started pumping my cock, riding fast and hard like a madwoman. I twisted her nipples hard. Her breathing was becoming quicker and more shallow. The muscles of her cunt were hugging my cock and squeezing the life out of it. Shelly was riding hard and fixing to have herself a massive orgasm. She threw her head back and screamed my name out loud as she came. I came right after she did, filling her pussy with my thick gism. Then she fell fast asleep in my arms, just like old times.

After that night, we decided maybe we ought to start sleeping together again. Sex with Shelly was better now than it had ever been. We each had one night every week when we could go out with whoever we wanted to - and do whatever we felt like doing. Then we'd run home and share all the juicy details and fuck each other's brains out.

She loved fucking horny businessmen, and she really dressed up for them. She'd mastered the fine art of walking around in five-inch stillettoes, and even did the "black stockings and garter belt" thing. She loved sexy lingerie, spent a small fortune on it and looked awesome wearing it. Shelly was ridiculously easy, especially when she'd had a bottle of champagne or so. She gave them all blowjobs to remember. Not to mention that my girl was the Butt Fuck Queen; she'd let almost anyone fuck her in the ass. Small wonder so many of them thought it was necessary to leave a few hundred dollar bills folded together and tucked away in her purse when she left . . .

I loved having long drawn-out sex with beautiful down-on-their-luck college girls; the silly little twats . . . They acted like they thought $200.00 was a lot of money. I used their hard young bodies as my private playgrounds. Sometimes if I really liked the girl and she was totally resistant to the idea, I'd pay a little extra for butt sex. I enjoyed giving over-the-knee spankings, too. I didn't like hurting the girls, but I sure did like watching them squirm and making their butts red. And if they cried a little bit - well, then they cried . . .

I always brought some beer, wine and vodka - and after they'd had a drink or two, I'd ask the girls to do a little strip tease for me to sort of get things rolling. I enjoyed watching them perform for me. It never failed to make me hard. And once they were naked, I liked for them to help me get undressed and then drop to their knees and suck my dick for a few minutes before I slid it into their tight young cunts (or assholes).

Once in awhile, I like to pay for two girls and have them pull their panties down and spank each other's bottoms and lick each other's nipples and cunts. I could tell it was the first time for some of them. After they finish playing with each other and making each other cum, then it's my turn to play with them - sometimes both at the same time. I'd been trying to talk Shelly into having a threesome for awhile now - but so far, she wanted no part of it. Two guys she said she'd go for - but she wasn't ready to share our bed with another woman. She said she thought she'd be too jealous to enjoy herself properly. So whenever I want a threesome or some hot girl-on-girl action, I just pay a couple of broke and horny college girls. Shelly DOES enjoy hearing about it, though. And I enjoy re-living it.

I cranked the AC up and thought back to this afternoon's fun at the Motel 6. This afternoon's fuck girl's actions had practically begged me for a good hard over-the-knee spanking. So I'd given it to her. Her ass had been fiery hot and beet red when I was through with her. And then I'd fucked her up the butt (it cost me an extra $50.00 - but had been worth every last penny) She'd screamed and cried - and I'd really thought she was faking it until afterwards when I saw her mascara was smeared all over her face. Well - no matter - I didn't care; I wouldn't ever be seeing her again.

I called Shelly on my cell phone to let her know I was on my way home and there was a traffic jam, but I'd be there as soon as I could get there. She told me she was laying in our bed waiting for me. She told me she was naked and freshly-showered, rubbing her nipples.

She asked me what I was doing and told me to reach inside my pants and pull my dick out. Sounded like a good idea, so I did. She told me how she had her legs spread apart and was finger-fucking herself and rubbing her clit. My cock had become rock hard as she started moaning. I spit in my hand and started stroking. By the time she was cumming, so was I. A few minutes later, the traffic was slowly moving again. Finally ! Shelly told me she was getting in the shower again, and I told her I'd be home in about twenty minutes. She said she'd been a bad girl, and her mouth and ass would be waiting for me. Good. I knew I'd be hard again by the time I got home.