1. It Was Just Another Saturday NIght


    Date: 6/14/2017, Categories: Hardcore, Author: jaycox, Rating: 4, Source: LushStories

    room. After James paid her off, and she left, I had attacked him, ripping his clothes off and had never been fucked so hard in our married life before. Of course, the high wore off by Tuesday or Wednesday and the need to recharge the addictive juice was high. Saturday loomed ahead with a promise, the false promise of calming me through lustful action. But I didn't see that; the whole thing was too exciting to me to be real. It was the fantasy in my flesh and blood, the smell of sex, the taste, the sounds, the sight. I needed more than James could ever give. It was purely addiction driven, no fucking way it wasn't. That second night I blew so many cocks I lost count. I got fucked over the hood of an old Ford pickup truck behind a bar in the alley behind 14th Street. Three, maybe four times by guys I never even saw. James took the money and was a hall monitor for the line. One cock followed another, one set of gnarled hands grabbed my tits, while the next set was warming a cock up in line. James had brought a good supply of pot and cocaine, and we both were high. When he wasn't watching me, I snorted another couple of inches. My clothes were covered in cum, my lipstick was gone, my hair was matted with cum, spittle, dirt, even a bit of blood. I bit a guy who was standup-fucking me in a doorway, and he spit his blood on my head he was so pissed off. Looking back, that was the night James realized what a mistake it was to encourage me to try the fantasy in the first place. He ...
    knew he no longer had any control over my actions. I was spinning off freely into space, legs wide open and breasts thrust out, yelling, "Fuck me all you motherfuckers, here I am!" James had to force me into the car to go home at 3 AM. I was crazy. I mauled him in the car. I finger-fucked myself too until my clit was sore as a boil. I didn't care. I wanted more. I got out in the garage and as the door came down I walked up to him and grabbed his face with my nails pointed at him. I kissed him and raked my nails along his jawline on both sides drawing blood. "Jenny Lee, stop, stop it!" James yelled at me. I pulled free and ran out through the back door into the darkened yard, threw myself down on the lawn and started to cry, and cry, and cry. He left me there. When the sun came up, I realized James had covered me with a thick blanket sometime during the night. He tried to talk me out of any more trips to 14th Street and for a while I obeyed his wishes. Then one night about two months after that first fateful night, he had to leave for a European business trip on a Saturday morning. All day my head reeled with memories, fantasies, delusions, sex-capades I imagined with me the stunning, stage-center whore. I tried to ignore it. I fucked myself with my dildo most of the day. I had made love to him the night before, hard, passionate soul-less love. I promised I would stay home and not go out. He figured the fucking he gave me would be enough to last until the following weekend. He ...
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