A bored housewife wishes to be a slut for a night

“Ooh! My baby sucks me so well.”

“You’re pissing me off basted, do it hard.”

“Get on with it boy… tear my pussy apart!”

“Fuck me the way you fucked your mother.”

“Piece of shit! OH MY GOD! Faster faster faster… yeah! Thats the way honey.”

“No! Not into my ass! Oh my fucking god… ah! Ah!”

“Hell yeah! I’m a bitch for the night, fuck me the doggy way!”

Bottles after bottles of whiskey sucked down the throat, condoms after condoms torn into pieces before orgasm, bed sheets torn, hair severed off, love-bites, nail scratches, sperms, blood spots, smudged lip-sticks… as if hell broke out right there in middle of the two thirsty souls, having numerous orgasms, one after another, at rapid successions, and blowing off all the urges they suppressed for long. And then there was calm.

Both of them stayed in utter unavailability of words, emptied of all cravings, they became the part of the turmoiled room. And as at all times, guilty pleasures give way to a deeper and austere guilty sufferings, it was all silent for time unmemorable.

With a gasp the man at last spoke out, his words almost submerging into whispers: “Never thought we’ll end up here after a long seventeen years.”

“Neither I” the lady replied lighting up a another cigarette.

“So what made this virtuous wife come out in a wintry night is slutty clothes and goof up with a man who had been her lover seventeen years back?” the man was almost complaining.

“I was tired of my too much decent outfits, oil-sticky aprons, two time cooking, son’s studies, husband’s issues, and all those shits of daily living, and ending up at night with a missionary fuck of a bank manager.”

“So you mean, your husband was sexually inert, impotent?” the man was

quite in his spirits now.

“No, he was alright. But… but I don’t feel him anymore. After fifteen years of marriage, it becomes more a habit of living together than love you see.” she said.

“So now what? Baby, I think still love you. Let us reunite and run away somewhere far from the city. After to-night, I won’t dare to show my wife my face anyway… where are you going?” In middle of his talk the lady got up and started collecting the bits and pieces of her clothes.

“Back to my home and husband…” the lady briefly said.

“But you said you don’t feel your husband anymore!” the man was astonished.

“I didn’t feel you either,” the lady replied and went out. Taken completely into amazement and guilt, the man heard her steps rushing down the staircases. Outside, the fog had quite comfortably settled…

Please wait…

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