Unfortunately broke up with my gf today... would have been 3 years tomorrow  feeling lonely I wake up for work in 5 hours but I can't sleep... anybody want to keep me company or rise my spirits on here or in my dms that would be helpful :) my kink is (straight) anal and girls that do anything to please their man .... thanks again motherless love you all

I'm a 35 year old married woman with no offspring and my man works so I don't have to which means I'm a trophy wife I guess. My husband has a liking for younger women so we go to 18+ clubs to find a third and that's been our things for about two years now. But recently we found a third that we frequent and like but he hasn't been joining us. He just sits in a chair watching me enjoy our third. What happened? Why doesn't he join us?

I never thought that I will get to have a cuckold experience, as a bull, especially since I am neither young, nor endowed, but it happened.

She is my, lets say friend, I have known for over 20 years. I had a serious crush on her in our 20's, but she was too good for me back then, and that is fair, even now, she is way out of my league. But, in our 30's, we became FWB, but not on a regular basis, only when she would feel it, so, sometimes, 10 times in a month, and sometimes once or twice a year. I was her spare, I got that, but I didn't mind.

She got in a serious relationship some five years ago, and we kind of stopped seeing each other, in any capacity, and, well, it had to happen at some point, so I didn't give it much thought. But, maybe a month ago, she called me, to grab a cup of coffee, and well, I thought here we go again, but no, it was awkward, it seemed like she was with holding something from me, and when I asked her if she would come to my place, she said no, and rushed off. Two days later, the exact same coffee date...

I was puzzled, so I did something we agreed never to do, I started texting her. It took some time, a few days, and I guess it was easier for her to tell me over text, than eye to eye. She mentioned her fiance, is into cuckolding. I understood, immediately, what was up, so I was the one to encourage it, so the three of us met, at dinner.

He looked like he is about to faint, and he looked like someone who would love to see his woman fucked by another man - a total fucking wimp. She was talking, how they thought of it, how it would be easier with someone she feels comfortable with, etc. I was the one lightening the mood, joking, and she joined me, but when we parted ways, I thought, no way in hell this is happening, he looked like he regretted thinking of it. Two days later, she called, and set up a date night at their place.

The look, size and location of his place, answered all of my questions on why she is engaged to him.

I thought it would be awkward, but as soon as me and her started kissing, it was like he wasn't even there. They didn't ask for a condom, and I didn't bring one, hoping that we can do raw, and we did. He didn't jerk off, he just watched, fully dressed. It was amazing, better than it ever was, she came, loudly, and in the end, we did it in the pile driver position, and when I was about to cum, I pulled out, and did something I did many times before, with her, came all over her pussy, because, she has the fattest pussy lips I ever saw.

I was still tossing the last drops out of my cock, when he got up, almost ran up to us, I pulled back, thinking, he is about to hit me, but no, he got on his knees, and started licking my cum off of her pussy.

I am far from a moral idol, but that felt sick, so I got into the shower.

We are meeting again, next weekend, when he gets back from his work trip. I feel conflicted, but I guess that my cock will do my thinking, like it always did, and that I will continue this ordeal, even though, I felt pretty pathetic after that night, me, the guy who always thought sex is everything. I think I found my boundary, but I want to see if I can push through it.

I needed to drop my vehicle off for service today. So after I dropped it off I took a quick walk to a local Starbucks to get a cup of coffee while I wait. The Starbucks is small with not allot of seating so finding a good place to sit so I could plug in and get some work done was annoying.  Either way I was not able to find a good place to charge or able to tuck into a corner, so I just sat at the first open bench seat there was. While I was there for maybe an hour,  at least 10 HS ladies placed an order there. And man did I have a good seat. I was sitting in perfect view of all those perky tight asses standing in line. I could not help but stare and think how wet those holes must get. There was one girl who was on the bigger side. But she was wearing skin tight short shorts, and I could make out the out lining, she had a puffy one! I could not stop my dick from getting hard. I tried my best not to get caught staring.  Fuck I miss being at that point in time. 

So this is where we confess stuff I guess. I'm a closeted bisexual guy and since I was in my early teens I had always wanted to suck some cock. I never did anything about it cause I was worried people would find out and I'd be labeled as gay. But after years I couldn't take it anymore so I found out there's an adult bookstore an hour from me with a viewing arcade. I had read stories about what happens there so I went to try my luck. I got lost twice on my way there but I finally found it. It took me a good 20 mins to work up the courage to actually go in but I finally did. There were a lot of booths in there and a bunch of guys just walking around. I had no idea what to do.i finally went into a booth and but a dollar in and watched a little bit of porn. Once my time ran out I had a hard on and stepped out to see if I could find someone. When I was about to leave this 60 something year old man came in an sensed what I wanted to do. He signals me and asks me if he can join me in a booth, I just nod cause I'm so nervous. We walk in close the door and just on instinct I get on my knees awhile he undoes his pants. He had a thin 5 inch dick and I just went with it. All nervousness went away I just started sucking and licking. I ran my tounge up and down his shaft and started sucking his balls I was amazed at how easy it came to me. He asked me if I wanted to go to his house I shook no cause I was too scared, I wish I had said yes still regret it. Anyway I kept sucking for a couple more minutes when someone knocked on the door. I had never been in adult bookstore so I just assumed it was someone going around making sure nothing was happening so I got so scared and said I have to go. It makes me sad I didn't get to make him cum. It took me a year to work up the courage to go back but that second time I was bolder. By this time they had glory holes cut into some booths. I went into one and soon after a guy walked in and started watching a movie and jacking off. I knelt down and was looking at him I finally whispered can I suck it. He quickly got up and I had this 7 inch black cock. I started bobbing on it. Gagging as I tried to deep throat it. I don't know if he warned me or not but in a couple minutes I feel him blow his load down my throat while I had him deep in my mouth. He then quickly left but a minute later and old m an came and started quickly jacking off then he saw me near the hole and stuck his small cock in. I was in there for 15 minutes before he left cause I guess he couldn't cum. Afterwards I quickly left and drove home with the taste of cock and cum in my mouth

I have found out that my wife is being fucked by the neighbour's husband when I'm at work and others are at school. She's been sneaking in during lunch hour, but strangely I really enjoy the thought of it and cant wait to get home and sink my 5-5.5" penis, which feels so good being enveloped by another man's warm spent sperm in her heretofore tight cunt. I have even seen his cum running out of her fanny before I have gone in.

Anyone else ever felt like this?

Beyond the Horizon

Part 1

One of the lessons you learn after years of driving is that at some point or another, you’re going to experience the pain of repetition and predictability. Even when I first started off on the journey, I never had a destination in mind. It’s like as soon as I sat down and closed the door, it was getting hazy. It’s apparent to me now that from the moment I turned that old key and fired her up I was totally unsure of to exactly where I thought I was going. Driving is one of my greatest pleasures. There’s a sincere innocence in the act of driving. I lost sight of much of that, and from time to time I wasn’t sure if I was even in control. From a certain perspective the relationship between the machine and it’s controller breaks down, and it can become objectively difficult to distinguish which is driven by which.

To be fair, the warning signs were all over the place. It felt like I couldn’t go more than ten seconds without some sign, a precaution, a rule, a rule of thumb, a word of advice whispered in confidence. I always did my best to be a responsible driver. For the longest time I did my best to obey all the rules of the road, back before I knew better, or perhaps until I thought I knew better. Experience is the greatest teacher, not to mention the harshest. It’s common knowledge that to learn from experience makes even the worst decisions worthwhile. Sometimes it’s simply the only thing that one can take away from the curveballs so often thrown one’s way. The problem for the unwise lies in working out what lesson the accused is to take away from his crime. For the introspective the problem is rarely not seeing the problem at hand. They can even take precautions to make sure that one accident is never repeated, by not repeating whatever lead to disaster the first time around. For the experienced, and by that I mean the scarred, the disfigured, those drivers who possibly still hurt every waking day of their lives, there are an entirely different set of problems, regardless of their ability to learn from past experiences. The problem faced by the salty, by the ones who well and truly drove around that block more than they care to admit, is the inability to disengage from what they think they know best, and in doing so they find themselves sat exactly where they were before they even released the handbrake. One cannot escape his past, cannot escape the stupid things they did. But to make matters worse, they begin to see that so many of the reflective, glaring, fluorescent signs they are bombarded with as they hit the highway begin to contradict each other. They blur, they all look the same, sound the same. It seems impossible to follow one highway code without breaking another. At first, one particularly thoughtful individual might find, there seemed to be one over-arching Way. The irrefutable Tao of the road. The one true way. I miss that idea. I’ve reached a point where no matter how hard I try and see things as I used to, either I changed, or the rules did.

And so those rare unfortunates may find the signs begin to undermine each other. Slow down, but speed up. Be cautious, but never so more than you’re being brazen. Make sure to flaunt every last thing you have and haven’t ever done, because nobody likes It when you brag. And so experience fails you. It begins to lie to you, and even when you’re aware that there is clearly deception afoot, you become a man looking at a map with no reference as to where in the fuck they actually are. It’s at this point in my career as a driver that I also realised that for all the years I had been driving, I could not remember where I was going. I knew that I had been driving for a very long time, and I think at certain points I had stopped off at places, and I still remember the people I picked up. Some of them drove with me for the longest time. I always liked having passengers, but sooner or later, the destination is reached, and the journey has come to an end. But I digress. At a certain point, I found myself lost. It was the worst kind of lost, in that not only did I not know at all where and when I was, but in that I had totally forgotten where I had originally intended to go. I could not even remember at what point I had forgotten everything about myself. All I knew was in looking in the mirror, I was sure I didn’t recognise myself. I could not even describe the person who stared back at me. The Driver was a man about which you could say so much, but I’m quite certain that none of the obvious things you could gleam from that countenance were objectively correct. Nothing I’ve ever experienced has been quite so simple as that. First impressions are hard to resist, however. In a way it didn’t matter that I’m sure in some ways I recognised the Driver’s face, because from the moment I met his eyes with mine, I knew he’d always be a simple mystery to me, destined to be my enemy, the one who knew me the best.

He had the look of the man who has learned from experience as he lit that cigarette. The glow from the lighter revealed a face older and more weathered than I’m sure my own face was. He looked bad. I was certain he didn’t have the slightest good intention in mind for me, and yet everything in his eyes and in the tone of his voice struck me as sincere and well meaning. He spoke to me as if he knew me. We’re on the road now aren’t we? I’ve always loved these warm nights, the heady smell in the air. He grinned, and his eyes lit up. I suddenly felt thirsty. Thirstier than I’ve ever felt in my life. There was adrenaline coursing through my body now, and most of my worry had suddenly receded. As he rolled down the window, an old and child-like excitement crossed his face, as a child who is told on Christmas day that the best present has been saved to last. What does it even matter where we’re going? The pleasure’s in the driving. It’s also in the uncertainty. We passed a strange scene by the side of that long road. This struck me because until now it had all been so blank. There was a cow being led down the road by two men, one in front, and one following up from behind. We passed so quickly that the image struck me as an old black and white picture would have, fixed in my mind without the suggestion of fading. It was like some grim scene from a foreign abattoir, and I felt my spirit drop, knowing where the cow’s destination lay despite all his ignorance. He looked complacent if not slightly confused as to his predicament, being lead by his handlers as he was. For some unknown reason, I honestly felt very sad for him. Then I laughed. Fucker should have evolved faster. I couldn’t but help show the slightest disapproval, even if deep down something in me knew it was true. It would be pretty much the same if the boot was on the other foot. Or hoof. You get my drift. I laughed again, and I wasn’t sure if it was humour or desperation I heard in that laugh. It sounded strange to me, but laughs always sound strange when you really listen to them. Everyone knows what a laugh means, but that shit can’t be found in any dictionary I ever heard of.

Hello

I am a married white female in my early 30's. I have blond hair and am what most men would consider to be good looking. My husband and I have been married for 6 years. I recently discovered he has been looking at Interracial Pornography on the internet. Almost exclusively black men having sex with white women. There seems to be an underlying theme of White Wives cheating on their husbands with well endowed black men, sometimes with the white husbands being forced to watch.

This was a very disturbing discovery for me. I was appalled and surprised that my husband has so much of this stuff on his computer and in his internet history. What's even worse is he looks at "cuckold" porn and many of the women in these videos have the same look that I do. Thin, white women with with blond hair and blue eyes. If you do not know what interracial cuckold is, it's pornography where a white man watches his wife wife have sex with a black man. The black man always has a much larger penis and the white man is verbally and physically humiliated by his wife and the black man. Why does my husband look at this stuff? Is it possible that he is thinking of me while he watches it? Why would he fantasize and masturbate to thoughts of me with black men?

As I found this pornography on my husbands computer, I began looking at it more and more. My husband doesn't know that I know about his fetish. It began is detective work to find out what turns him on and what he spends his time looking at.

I was raised in a racist family in the south and was taught to stay away from black men. I have never been with a black man. And now here is the even bigger problem.

It's beginning to turn ME on as well. When I was looking at my husbands computer there was one picture of a blond girl that looks a lot like I do, with a very large black man. I was shocked and excited at the size of his penis. I hate to admit it because it makes me feel so ashamed, but I masturbated that night while viewing the picture. I didn't want to, but I was so turned on that I felt like I couldn't stop myself. I felt dirty afterward but it was just the beginning of my addiction.

Now I've began viewing these interracial picture of black men with with women on my own computer. These fantasies are dominating my sex life, and I've lost interest in having sex with my husband. Just the sight of a black mans penis seems to get me going and I can't stop thinking about it. One re-occurring fantasy I have been having is being "taken" by a group of 5 large black men. When I go out in public and see a black man walking by, I think about him sexually even if my husband is by my side.

This is an intrusive fantasy that has been affecting my marriage and sex life. I would like to know what I can do to stop it, and get my husband to stop looking at it as well.

I had an online sex partner for over two years. Yeah, I know how it sounds. It started on a different platform, and at first it was kind of a chat, cheeky chat if you want, and then she started sending photos, first without a face, then with, first nn, then nude, and it kind of escalated. I must admit, at that point I wasn't sure if it is not some guy sending photos, so I let it slide for a while, and then requested a cam to cam, and, bingo, no foul play there.

Now about her looks - average looking blonde, in her early 40's, never been married, single, career woman, you know the type. We started having cam sex on the weekends, and it evolved into this thing that happened almost every night. She was lonely, I was lonely as hell, so it was nice. After some time, she would turn the camera on, even when she was busy doing something, so did I, and one time, she had a friend over (I was muted and a friend had no idea I was watching). After she left, I told her that I enjoyed looking at both of them, just talking, and that I had my sexual satisfaction from viewing this.

All this span over a time period of more than a year, so things happened slowly. We had our fun with or without her present, and at some point, she told me that her friend is coming over, and that she will introduce us, me as her long distance bf, but warned me to be nice, no sexual stuff, and to keep my mouth shut, because she told her that we see each other once a month, even though we never met in person. I guess she was feeling shame for having an online fuck buddy, if that can be called that way.

So we talked cam to cam, it was fun, and that happened a few times, and in that time period, I guess she told her that we are doing cam sex and bragged about my size, and one time when we were all online, she (a friend) asked me about that, if it is true.

That night ended with me jerking off for them while they watched.

Now, fast forward almost a year, she told me that she is coming to my city, for a work thing, and if I want to finally meet her. Fuck me, I was excited as one can be, of course I would. We agreed on everything, I will come to her hotel room, and wait for her when her conference thing is over, and it will finally happen.

I was ready to leave, it was well past midnight, I just guessed she changed her mind, and is now avoiding her own room not to see me, when they entered. Later, she told me she did have second thoughts, and our mutual online friend was there, and she kept this rendez vous a secret, but confronted with doubts, after their work thing was over, she took her to a bar and came clean - how she is conflicted, how we never actually met irl, that I am waiting upstairs, and all that with a couple of drinks, so when they came in, they were both quite tipsy.

I fucked them both that night, and it was, so fucking, especially for a man with such poor sexual experience like me. We fucked all night, first round with a condom, second without, and it was beyond amazing.

This happened in September, and less than a week later, she wrote to me that this isn't healthy, and that she is breaking it off.

Now you can see my perspective, I was devastated, but I did not give up, all this time, I was trying to renew the connection, writing to her, sending her messages. Nothing, silence.

Until last night, when she came back online, responding to one of my messages. She had no time for me, but wanted to say hello, and tell me that we will talk today.

Wish me luck, I might get her back.

When my girlfriend came back from a trip to Boston, where she brought a male friend, she called me to let me know she had the whole day free, and she had gotten a motel room. We could make up and I could "cover up" the stain of the other man, who she made use a condom. We made love at 6:00 a.m. and again at 9 after we showed up at work, then slipped out for a business meeting, we each told our secretaries. We met again for lunch where we did it twice in an hour and fifteen minutes. We met again that afternoon, after we each had work meetings. I had to jerk off because I couldn't come from intercourse. We kept the motel room one more evening and met at 5:30 and we had intercourse again. Total of five orgasms from intercourse for me, six total orgasms. Michelle is multiorgasmic and she came four or five times each time I came--maybe 25 for her, total. Most of her orgasms came from my eating her out, because my tongue is more reliable than my penis.

We have broken up, sort of. We love each other but it is complicated. In some sense all we have ever had is makeup sex, and it is high drama and very, very good.

My adult daughter moved back home with me after years of being on her own. She seems to do allot of things that tells me she wants to make love to me. But then I try to return her attentions and that is as far as it ever gets. I wish I had the balls to just grab her and give her my love, but sadly I do not. This girl is driving this old man crazy. Have not been this sexually frustrated since I was a we lad. It is nice to know my unit still works but a nice warm wet place to park it for the night would be a fantasy come true.