You know how some days are so shitty you wish you never got out of bed? I've just had one of those days. It's after midnight. I'm exhausted but I wanted to post while I'm still in this shitty mood. Sometimes it's good to get your rogue thoughts out before they slip back to normal, don't you agree?
Today the kids seemed determined to be shitty. Work was shitty. My in-laws were shitty. Even my husband was shitty.
I love my husband. I truly do. He is what love is to me and I could never be without him. I love him for all he is and all he allows me to be.
I love the way he smells and the way he holds me and the way he is always there. I love the freedom and support he gives me.
But today I could kill him. Do you have days when nothing your husband says or does is even close to fucking right? Do you have days when you want to look him in the eye, smile sarcastically and bounce a fry pan up off his fucking skull? Today was one of those days.
But maybe it's me. It could just be an baditude day. Or maybe I just need to get laid. Not make-love-laid. REALLY fucking laid. You know the kind, where all you can think about is sex before, during and afterward. That's probably what I need.
It's been almost two months since I've seen anyone else. I've been busy. Too busy for good sex, even at home. But it's not sex at home that I'm thinking of now. I need to get well fucked. Soon. I think I need a new guy too. Someone fresh and exciting. A new body on mine. A new mouth. A new cock.
I need Mr. Calgon. Please take me away! If I knew where he was I swear to God I would go to him right this second, and leave my husband asleep in the bedroom. I need to give myself to someone and let him use the shit out of me. I want to raise my hips and offer my sex and let him take it all until he's done and I'm ruined.
I don't want a guy to make love to me. I want a guy to tell me how to dress. Then I want him to rip it off when I get there. I want him to tell me what to do. Then I want to amaze him with my willingness.
I want him to take me and use me like a $50 whore. Forget the foreplay. I want him to pull his cock out and push it between my lips until I choke on it. Spank me. Push me down and pull my knees apart. Shove his fingers into me. Squeeze my tits and pinch my nipples and bite my neck. Then mount me and pound his stiff cock into my pussy and make me take it all.
I want him crush me with his weight and pound me into submission. I want every thrust of his hips to savagely knock the breath from my lungs while I cry and moan and suffer through his onslaught.
I want him to take my ass. I don't want him to ask. I want him to grab his cock and push the tip against my ass and force it in, even if I try to wiggle away. I want him to lean into me and push deeper until every inch is inside. I want him to shove my face into the mattress to silence my cries, and pound my ass until his thrusts become waves of pleasure.
I want him to pull out of my used ass and shove it back into my opened pussy again and plow me roughly toward our finish. I want to feel the hard tip of that cock slamming against my cervix, rudely announcing its intentions. I want to hear him grunting as he jackhammers into me. Then I want to feel that glorious new cock swell and gush and flood me with the heat of his passion. I want to cum instinctively underneath him, and feel my head spinning dizzily while I'm being replenished with his hot, warm spurts.
I want to lay beneath him, panting and sweating. If he wants me again I will completely yield to his wishes. Afterward I want to lay in his arms and thank him. I want to thank him for fucking me and defiling me and using me like that whore that I needed to be for him. I want to thank him for stretching me and cumming in me and for letting me give him my entire being.
Then I want to stumble home. I want to remember and relive every minute before I pass out. I want to feel worn out and sore and stretched and leaking cum during the night while I sleep. I want to pass out from the exertion, reaching down to touch my tender lips in the final moments before I slip away.
I want to wake up the next morning and let the first thought be of him, fucking me. I want to cherish that memory of being treated like a whore. I want to touch my pussy to make sure it wasn't just a wonderful dream. and feel a tenderness remaining between my legs. I want that morning after adrenaline jolt I sometimes get from contemplating the remote chance that he got me pregnant. I may even allow myself a moment to ponder the fleeting, twisted, paradoxical thrill of conception for a few brief seconds before the thought vaporizes on the cusp of a new day in the real world.
I want every bit of that right now. I fucking need it. It's been too fucking long.