I was perusing this website one fine afternoon during a work break and I saw things on my newsfeed I usually don't see. Occasionally, a subreddit that I never visited gets recommended based on recent explorations. Now I won’t mention which one it was, but it involved a subculture of art and decor related to a specific type of lifestyle. I will say, it wasn't an NSFW page, but what I saw definitely stoked the carnal lust I kept hidden when at the office.

After clicking the image to magnify it to my screen, I saw that the plus-sized woman who caught my eye was draped in a aquamarine dress with indiscernible polka dots that complemented the shade well. It enveloped her frame so that we couldn't see exactly what her mirror after a shower could, but something told me that she was as shapely as I imagined her to be. She couldn't have been taller than 5'7. Brown, silky smooth hair that was as straight as an arrow fell from her shoulders down her back like a waterfall of keratin. Her arms were hoised up in the classic acute angle that reflected a girl "feeling herself." Though I couldn't see her face, I knew she knew she looked fucking hot. I steered my eyes from her head down to her ass. It was ginormous, and the dress was barely doing an acceptable job holding it in; the way the fringes of it sloped upwards and around her giant dump-truck told me everything I needed to know. And when my eyes shot back up to her head, I noticed her arms- not quite toned or shapely, but hefty enough to say they knew what a hard day's work looked like. For some reason, her entire vibe spoke to me. And when I clicked on her profile, I saw that she commented on a dildo subreddit about her favorite toy. Damn. She was like that eh? A light bulb went off in my head.

In a previous iteration of this account, I would send many, many voice notes to strangers once I was given the green light. Instead of doing it the old-fashioned way, something about this lady told me she wouldn't mind an ice-breaker that was a URL, instead of me asking permission. So, I went to my car after finishing up a few more things, and loaded up the recording website I used.

”Hey…I wanted to say I enjoyed your post on the page and that is quite the cute dress. But I see you're into one of my ex's favorite dildos. I fucked her many, many times with it and it's vibration settings are some of the best. After what I imagine your beautiful fucking ass looks like, I bet you're gonna enjoy getting fucked by it much the same. And yeah, you got my cock rock fucking hard...”

Genuinely, it was nothing special. Cringe, even, depending on who you ask. But I sent it regardless because what did I have to lose? It's all just a bit of fun. I slowly walked back to my office after sending the chat and before I even got to the front door, I felt my phone buzz. I smiled, expecting to see a chat bubble when I unlocked my screen but it was just a bank statement notification. Bummer. I hurried back to my desk to finish up the last bit of work for the day, and not a peep from my mystery woman for the rest of the afternoon. Fast forward to the end of the day however, I was sitting in my car ready to drive home when my music was loudly interrupted by a reddit notification.

"S accepted your chat."

Oh yes. We will call her S. She opened my chat and immediately asked "what is that?"

I forgot that some are hesitant to open strange links, so I responded "haha, hey. It's just an audio link expressing my reverence for your post. Hope you have head phones and enjoy!"

And then followed 5 minutes of silence. The loudest, longest silence of my online slut journey so far. Then suddenly, hordes of messages crawled through my notification center while I was blitzing 89mph on the highway home. I quickly glanced down and saw specks of "oh my god, that was so fucking hot" and "wow, your voice is so sexy." Every message that crept though, helped my smirk grow wider and wider. I was definitely feeling cocky and I gripped my steering wheel tighter and whipped in and out of traffic. Suddenly, I saw one more message come through.

"I have to go to church with my family now but I'm going to be thinking about you the entire time."

That was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. I couldn't keep it in any longer, and I opened up my phone to send yet another message.

"I bet you will, you fucking slut. I bet you're going to be sitting there in a tight little dress on that cold wooden bench, aching to work your pussy as you get wetter and wetter thinking of what I'll do to you. In fact, I bet the musk from your pussy juices emanating up your stomach and into your nose will drive you crazy, making you tilt your pelvis forward to that your pussy lips and the bottom of your clit touch the wood...hoping to feel just enough pressure to wish it were my tongue or my fingers doing that to you. All the while sitting next to your family, hoping they don't sense what a fucking whore you're being for me"

I'll be honest, I had no idea how guilty that message would make me feel. I knew I was playing with fire sending stuff like this but it was supposed to be all fun and games. Yet here I was speaking to S, a woman I literally knew for less than 20 minutes, about how much of a slut she was and even going so far as to insinuate she was a bad mom/wife? Damn. Sometimes, the male horny brain needs to know what limits and boundaries look like, or so I thought.

Suddenly, I saw her reply. It was a URL. I clicked to hear her voice.

"Oh my god baby. I can't take it anymore. You're making me so fucking crazy. Call me."

And she left her number. I heard that message over and over again as I finished up my drive, which wrapped up quickly. The entire time, my cock was straining against my underwear begging to get out. I parked, and texted: "Call you soon."

I hurried into my building's elevator and dialed up the number. Within 2 rings, she picked up. And I heard moans the moment she answered. Deep, guttural, but quiet moans.

"Oh baby....." I whispered back. Funny, I hoped the cameras in my building didn't pick up my voice.

"Yes, you dirty fucking kid. I want you fucking me hard. I want you tasting my cum. I want it dribbling down your cheeks, reminding you who owns your fucking face."

Holy fucking shit, did this girl got me. She is everything I dreamt of in a sexting partner. As I was struggling to contain my cock in my pants as I sprinted to my apartment, I told her to keep going. As she was fucking her pussy to kingdom come, I suddenly heard a voice in the background that sounded like it was announcing a symphony. And a slew of pubescent voices rang in the distance about some subjects I knew very little about. I paused just as I undid my pants.

"Are....are you in church?"

She moaned. Then groaned. I was silent for a good 30 seconds, listening to her silently fuck herself.

"Yes. Yes I am...." She continued to finger herself and I heard her moans get softer and softer. I didn't reply just yet.

I had no idea how to feel, to be honest. I guess there is no morals in the slut game? On one hand, I wasn't overly religious. On the other? I was extremely superstitious. I acknowledged and paid respects to every deity and idol I came across in my daily life. Something about just recognizing their presence made me feel spiritually set within the universe. Yet here I was, driving a mother and a wife to do things I would never consider doing in a place of worship. I felt like I was desecrating something sacred. It scared me. And in my moment of fear, S's sweet voice interjected like a wise therapist.

"Don't get a conscience on me now you dirty boy. Come feel my pussy on your face. Come serve me right. Fuck me, please. I need you baby."

Her words were my Viagra. My cock suddenly sprang up again. I forgot all about decorum and wanted to dick her down. I unleashed my cock from the restraints of my briefs and said, "yes ma'am."

And for the next 5 mins, we stroked ourselves to completion. Giggling at the absurdity of what we had just done, I asked if she was really in church. With a cock demeanor, she said "mmmhmm," sucked her fingers off, and said we'd play later. I sat back in my cum and sweat, and smiled. What a day.

Later on, S would tell me she did exactly as I had prescribed. The church pew was a nasty fucking place after she was done with it. Her pussy and panties were apparently soaked just tantalized by the wait of the ride home. But she edged herself like a proper good girl. She told me something about our session woke something up in her and she blew her husband's giant cock like she never had before. With a video as proof, I can attest I've never seen a woman satisfy a man that way. I was excited to play again and I asked what she was wearing...

...And unfortunately, S told me that our church dalliance was a one-off. She shared the same guilt as me for running off from her family and engaging with an internet stranger, but she said unconsciously, I may have helped save her marriage's dead bedroom. Huh. go figure. I went from harlot, to heretic, to "Good Luck Chuck," all in a day's work. We became friends shortly after and kept in touch with stories our of daily lives. Much like an another partner on here, the friendship eventually fizzled and her account is no more. Yet I hope the lasting impression we left on each other is a positive one. One that is rooted is a shared carnal lust. A peek at each other's souls that was handled with care and tact, with a side dish of irresponsibility, (frankly, karmically so).

So here's to you S. I hope that you continue to love, and fuck, you husband so thoroughly and passionately like you did that day. For if you keep it up, I am sure he'll feel like he's seeing God, every single fucking time.