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True Story 1- Purity Points

Pages: 1

She started the weekend at 39% pure.

The coast is beautiful in the early summer. Lengthy locks of bright green grass pepper the countryside, yellow dominates the hills, and strong, old trees hold their ground against a deliberate coastal wind.

She rolled down her window to take a photo, the sudden gust shuddering the windows and whipping her face with hair. She puffed at the wind, brushed her hair aside, took the photo and rolled up the window.

"There." One word from her after a contemplative silence.

A text interrupted the music in the car briefly, she looked down, and there it was. His reply, "I'll be there around 1am."

She had never met him. Her husband had never met him. But he was cute. Really cute. She had a crush, something she had kept quiet and subdued with workmates, something she suppressed in honor of her marriage, something she missed out on, something she wanted to give into.

She replied in text, "I can't wait."

"And your husband is okay with this?"

She looks up from her phone and over at me. We had been talking for a hundred miles about what to do, that our weekend plans were contingent on him, that we just might give up if we strike out every weekend for months.

She texts back without asking me again, "Yes. He says he'll text you the details."

We arrived at the hotel, had a few drinks like a normal couple, families around running amok, couples in dried up marriages arguing and chasing their kids and lecturing their teens and eating the free chips... and she was smiling, flush, bright skin, frisky wind-blown hair tamed by a straight-iron, tight skirt broadcasting the super-sexual state of mind that pumped up her lusting body.

Night was incredibly slow to arrive, and midnight slower, and every minute past another minute of torture.

She tried to sleep. Brushing her hair and rubbing her back in rhythm puts her to sleep, naked, prone with her legs spread, covered by a pure white sheet prominently showing the shape of her athletic ass, a sheet easy to remove. Going to sleep at midnight should give her a little rest before he arrives later.

He texts me, "At the elevator. Any advice?"

I text back, "Enjoy! The door is propped open. Walk past me and into her room. I think she is asleep."

My heart is pounding. My sweet wife, my tiny wife, my athletic wife, is lying naked in the next room asleep, she's had sex with me alone for most of her sex life, and she is about to get held down and fucked hard by a man she's never met.

He walks in, and looks just like his photos. My height, my weight, my look, even my smile as he nods, but younger. Her age. Damn. What I wouldn't do to turn back my clock and be born later. For her.

"Go ahead" I whisper.

He smiles again and heads to the back room door. There is light in the front room from the clock and a small covered lamp, but the whole back room is dark, no lights, curtains closed, pitch black.

Clock: 1am.

He quietly slips past the door and leaves it cracked open. I can hear his belt clank about and the rustle of the bed as his knees press down on the springs.

"Yes" I hear from her. He must have whispered something to her, hopefully consent.

"Uh huh" she says. What was that for?

I hear sheets being arranged, and then I hear her voice. A very faint pant, "uh".

I can't see anything. The crack in the door is so small, and the lights completely off, all I can see is maybe a silhouette from a leak of street light struggling to get past thick hotel curtains.

"Uh... uh... uh..." Her moans are so soft and passionate, so innocent as if she had never experienced anything sexual in her life, as if this was her first time, almost crying, almost gasping, every breath a vocal stroke of my mind.

He is definitely on top of her, I can see the silhouette now, her legs are up in the air. She must have been very wet.

"AHH" she screeched. Something sudden happened. The springs bounced and I could hear her light body drag on the bed.

Smack! "AHH" He spanked her! Her legs are off the bed now and he is behind her.

She had been begging for him to spank her, to dominate her, in text. But text is so easy to spew, to just blurt out ideas that have no meaning and seem unreal. A text might say, "I love to be spanked" or "I want you to spank me". Does that really mean anything in text, when she writes it, but when a man is on top of you and fucking you hard, it is real, and sudden, and not under your control.

Reality was real for me, I was huge. So huge I couldn't touch myself, my body was already pressing out tiny drops of sticky liquid and I had no control.

"Uh... uh... uh... uh... uhhh... uhhh... uhhh... uhhh..." She moaned and moaned and moaned, over and over again. Smack! "AHH." I could hear the smack of her super soaked and creamy cunt suctioning him every thrust, an unforgettable pop of a full cock and balls slapping against a throbbing and juice covered pussy and ass.

Minutes seemed like days. He kept going, and going, and going, and she kept moaning, never stopping. I found out later that he was fingering her ass while fucking her, and she asked for it, in text, loved it, loved it every bit.

I looked at the clock, it was almost 2am.

They fucked for almost an hour. I heard them stop for a moment, and heard a whisper, a sweet little voice, high pitched tiny small innocent girl voice, say, "in my ass."

What!? In my ass. What the hell does that mean? What "in my ass"?

"UGHHHH." Her moan was VERY different. It was low, deep, full, long. He must be fucking her ass! And not lightly.

"UGHHHH.... UGHHHH.... UGHHH... UGHH... UGH... UH, UH, UH, UH..."

The moaning stopped. He came in her ass. Wow.

I could hear him breathing heavily. It was over for him. I heard a few whispers back and forth, kissing, and she said "thank you." He was putting on clothes, walked out, smiled, and shook my hand. We said a few words for a minute or two. I can't remember a thing I said. Then he left.

She walked out naked. She was smiling. And bright. And tired. She walked up and kissed me, I tasted everything that went in her mouth the last hour, her beautiful bright eyes sparkling at me, and I felt every aspect of joy and exhilaration and appreciation in her embrace. She showered and I jumped in bed, then she parted the sheets and slipped under.

I kissed her goodnight, deep, loving, and perfect.

She wasn't done for the night. Her body had been ravaged, she had been taken, hard, long, forcefully. She lost pieces of long hair; I felt small strands on the bed. She was exhausted, and yet she was not complete. She felt a void, a hole, a missing piece of her life that would never have been discovered so easily by someone else even if they knew her for hours, days, weeks.

She reached over and grabbed my cock. She grabbed it hard.

"I want to get on top of you," she said, but she was already on top of me. She wanted me to know how much she wanted to be on top, she wanted to bind us completely, to cover me completely, to embrace me completely, to hold me and surround me and be mine completely.

She straddled me and leaned forward, her very perky and flush breasts dragging across me and her lips fully engulfing my lips and breath. I could feel how out of control her body had been left. He hadn't satisfied her. She wanted me. She needed me. Now.

She was rocking back and forth, and I was as hard as a rock and deep in her, in the past, at times so deep that it hurt her. But not now, not this time, not the way she was fucking me, hard, deep, pounding, fast. She rode back and forth, so incredibly wet and thick creamy still from her squirting all night, but squeezing tight because of what she wanted so desperately.

Her head dropped down next to mine and she was clenching her teeth. Her fingers were digging deep into my arms and grabbing on tight so she could feel some sense of control over me. She moved faster and faster, and pressed her body down on me harder.

Then her mouth opened, and she lifted her head up suddenly and arched her neck as far back as she could, and squeezed around my cock so hard and tight, her firm and tone legs squeezing, her feet pressing against mine, every part of her body tight and concentrated on the power of her orgasm, bursting and exploding inside, emanating to every nerve ending she could feel.

Then she collapsed.

She fell limp on top of me. About 30 seconds ago, she got on top of me. In 30 seconds, she fucked me until she came, then went to sleep.

Seriously. My wife fucked me, came, and went to sleep, in 30 seconds.

And guess what...

I'm fine with that.

In that one night, she lost 4 points on her purity test. Lots of driving and sleeping with your husband and someone else qualifies the average person for a bunch of points.

She ended the night at 35%.

Good job girl. Someday you'll catch up with me!

Pages: 1


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