“Is it easy to live with yourself when you cheat on every ma..

“Is it easy to live with yourself when you cheat on every man you have ever been with? Do you even remember the first time you cheated on someone?” I think this is supposed to be an insult. I’m not quite sure. At the least, it’s questioning my moral character. I can understand that. It doesn't hit that way with me, but I get it. It’s disconcerting to guys that their woman will want and fall in love with another’s man cock. But, yes, I remember the first time I cheated on a guy. It was so long ago I couldn’t even get a driver's license, but I remember it like it was yesterday. However, I think more to the point: do I remember the first time I accepted another man's sperm in my body while I was married? Oh yes, I do. Larry was the first guy to pump jizz into me while I was married to another man. I worked with Larry. We flirted, and we flirted, and then he fucked me in the conference room of the office we worked at while my husband was out of state on business. I can remember standing in the doorway, making out. I can almost feel his fingers inside of me after he slipped them in my pants. I often picture myself on my knees with his skinny little cock in my mouth. I remember his cock vividly. Not because it was amazing but because I was surprised at how thin it was. Somewhat short as well. Pencil dick would be the term I would use now. I had mentally pictured him with a big, fat, long, scary dick. It was anything but. That never matters, though. Only in porn does something like that matter in a situation like this. I was worked up. When a girl is worked up, a dick is a dick, and they all end up doing the same job equally well at times like this. And I was completely in fuck machine mode, so to say I was “worked up” would be an understatement. I think back, and the thought that his dick would have been the perfect cock to slip in my ass makes me believe I missed a good opportunity to have opened myself up to the world of ass fucking with him. But that wasn’t my thing back then. So, what happened was we made out, he fingered me, I stroked him, I blew him, he bent me over a chair and fucked me from behind until I came, and then he pulled out, announced he was going to cum, and I put his dick back in my mouth and ate the sperm that was fresh out of his testicles. He looked at his dick and said something about me leaving lipstick on his dick in reference to his fiancé seeing it and finding out. So, I cleaned his dick for him, which got hard again, and I sucked a second load out of his cock, leaving more lipstick. I left him to deal with that. That was my first married cheating experience, and it was a fantastic one.

However, I told my husband what I did when he returned from his trip. We were sitting in our beat-up old hot tub, and I said, “I cheated on you.” He was pretty calm and asked for the who, when, and why of the whole thing. I told him everything. My excuse was I just wanted to fuck. He was okay at first, but a day later, he kicked me out for a few days. Then we worked it out. I ended up quitting my job where I worked so I wouldn’t be around Larry anymore. The thing was, I thought I was in love with Larry. I wasn’t. I was just horny, and though my husband was just as good a fuck as Larry, if not better, the sex with Larry was amazing because he wasn’t my husband. A lot of you won’t understand that. I didn’t understand that at the time. Again, I confused sexual obsession with love. So, I started leaving notes on Larry’s car to call me. He did, and we fucked. We fucked a lot. He must have pumped 20 loads of cum in my guts in a month. The sex was so good I couldn’t stop. Skinny little dick aside, it was amazing sex. Until I went home after Larry left a lump of cum in my pussy and hopped in the shower. My husband walked into the bedroom and saw my clothes on the floor, and my panties were on top of the bed. They were still wet with Larry’s sperm. That is how I got caught. Things went south after that. I was left with a choice, and I chose Larry. Sadly, Larry chose his fiancé, and I went back to my husband, who wasn’t really having any of it. What is the moral of the story? If you are going to cheat, don’t leave your cum filled panties on the bed.