Descent of Susan

I break out the dildo hidden in my drawer, under my lingerie, wrapped in thick layers of fabric. No one must ever know it’s there. I can’t even force myself to think of the disgrace its discovery would cause. My husband… My husband would probably consider divorcing me. But my sons… dear God, I won’t even think about it.

I unwrap the dildo. My hands tremble slightly. I am very aroused. Pornography is designed for men, but, heavens forgive me, it works on me too. I need to bring myself off now. I am too aroused, too wet and horny right now to just use my fingers on my clit. No, I need to go all the way. This is what the dildo was purchased for, bought at a counter in the store with the black lights on, my face blushing as I was paying in cash and nervously glancing left and right.

It’s out. My God, I am always shocked anew by how big and nasty it actually is. This is not just a dildo, this is a thick, ten inches long slab of pink plastic, ribbed and designed to give your cunt that special treatment and make you scream as you cum. It was designed for whores with cunts that can’t get off on normal-sized cocks, whores who need it big and rough. My God, am I really such a slut? When you pass me in the street as I go shopping or to church with my family, do you look into my eyes and see a slut leering back at you?

Because I am. Yes, I am, because I need it. I need it right now. I can’t just put my fingers into my panties, press my lips together tight and have a silent, decent, but still sinful solitary orgasm. I have been watching those short porno clips you get from the Internet for almost an hour now and I am so hot and wet that I need something really hard. I need something big and thick in my cunt. I need to fuck myself like a whore, until I cum screaming.

I take my clothes off. The dress, the bra, the pantyhose are thrown on the floor by the bed. The panties, oh God, look how wet they are. God, what a fucking slut this woman is! I roll the soaked fabric between my fingers. I bring them closer to my face and the strong, musky scent hits me. Oh God.

I lie on the bed, completely naked. There is no need to rush it. The kids are out of town and my husband won’t be home another three hours or so. I have this time all to myself. Me and Mr. Dildo are going to have some fun.

I kiss the warm plastic and stroke my face with this large, pink cock. I touch the insides of my thighs with the fingers of my other hand and I can feel how wet I am down there. I need it, I need it there, deep inside me. I need it to penetrate me, to impale me, to cut my breath and send my hips up in a savage spasm of raw pleasure. But not just yet. The more I wait, the better it gets.

I slide the dildo across my breasts, touching the nipples, making them so painfully hard. I put it in my mouth, then suck it deep into my throat, until I feel very uncomfortable with it, then I take it out and spit on it. And then I rub my nipples with it. Oh, Jesus, God, this feels so good. I close my eyes.

*

“Do you come here often?” could be what the large man in dirty jeans is saying but I can’t quite make him out with all the music and noise of this bar. I just smile in reply. A very suggestive, telling smile. That functions way better than words in situations like this. After all he can tell what I am here for from a mile away, there’s no sense in playing shy, is there? I am wearing very heavy make-up, partly to conceal that I am well into my forties and partly because I know it will attract just the kind of men I am looking for. They will get the message even though I might not be saying anything to them verbally. Of course, my attire helps my cause. The thin blouse I am wearing can barely contain my breasts (breasts of a middle-aged mother neatly packed into a very tight push-up bra) and I got all kinds of indecent words thrown at me on my way to the bar. The high heels make my legs look so perfect – long, slender, sexy and the barely-there leather miniskirt rounds up the package. Yes, my outfit screams ‘slut’ to everyone within a mile radius. And this is even before they can tell I am not wearing any panties.

My drinking buddy will soon learn this, however because he’s taken the cue and is switching to mostly non-verbal communication. He downs another tequila and then casually grabs my ass. I am frozen for a second, because I know that anyone who cares to look will now see him massage my butt-cheeks. But I smile at him, seductively. Like a good whore.

His big hand keeps squeezing my flesh as he leans over to shout into my ear. He tells me how wet I am. Like I don’t know that. I rock my hips slowly as his fingers go up my cunt. I am forcing myself not to think about the fact that probably half the bar have their eyes on my ass by now.

He has a room upstairs. He would like to know whether I‘d care to join him for some private fun. I have so much tequila in me and so much pussy juice smeared between my legs that I can’t possibly say no. I whisper into his ear, saying some extremely nasty things. He smiles and shouts back at me. He promises to fuck me so hard he’ll rip my cunt in two.

I blush. I don’t know whether anyone else was able to hear his promise but it’s enough to know that it almost made me cum on the spot to make me feel embarrassed at just how much of a whore I can become. If only my husband could see me now, following my lover for tonight through the crowd, my leather skirt not even properly covering my privates any more. I am his for tonight, his for the taking. My heart pounds heavily and my legs are not easy to control, especially taking into account those thin, high heels I’ve put on to look like a proper slut.

My man waves at his friend standing at the other end of the room and I see him smiling back, nodding and following us up the stairs. Oh, my God, my God, Susan, this might turn out to be more than you wagered for…

*

I slide the dildo up and down my belly now, then I push it lower, between my pussy lips, across my clit and beyond. It feels so good. So slippery and wet down there. I have to move it slowly because otherwise I’ll cum right away and it’s not time yet.

I put my finger into my mouth and suck on it. When it’s sufficiently wet, I spread my legs wider and push it into my anus. I moan aloud as it penetrates my tight ass. I never ever had anal sex with a man. My husband even frowns upon the notion of oral sex and mentioning something like this to him would be openly asking for trouble (perhaps even exorcism?), so my asshole is tight and having my finger up it makes me feel very full. And so dirty. Slowly, I stroke my pussy lips and my clit with the ribbed hunk of plastic in my hand, as I gently fuck my ass with my finger. Such a slut. Such a slut, Susan.

*

He has me on my knees almost before I can make out what the room looks like. It’s nothing to write home about anyway, dirty floorboards (and I am kneeling on them), dimmed light in one corner, old, torn posters on the wall… No time to analyse the environment as my man demands I give his crotch my full attention.

His jeans go down and I am faced with the biggest cock I have ever seen. It’s long, it’s thick and it’s menacing and beautiful. It’s much bigger than my husband’s cock, that much is sure.

I take it in my hand and I could scream from pleasure just feeling that magnificent piece of meat throb and get harder from my touches. I pull the foreskin back and see tiny drops of precum making their way out of the hole on the head. God, I could lick this thick, hot shaft for hours.

But my lover has other plans. Obviously, his idea of foreplay is a bit simpler than mine.