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You’re sitting at home the day after Christmas, thinking about being anywhere else. You got plants of gifts, but not what you really want. To feel desired. To be touched. Made to feel like anything other than a housekeeper and babysitter and roommate.
You’re in your prime. Finally comfortable in your own skin. Not afraid to ask for what you want, but something’s missing.
Your husband sees you as a mom now, not an object of desire. But desire is all you feel. You need more. You crave it. Your thoughts have been getting progressively kinkier, darker, more extreme. Imagining the touch of strangers. “Forgetting” to wear a bra in public. Wishing the lingering eyes you notice would turn into more.
You don’t want sex anymore, you want to get fucked. Hard. Dirty, kinky, messy, animalistic fucking. The kind that would make a porn star blush. The kind of things you’d never imagined yourself doing.
It’s time. You’ve gotten to the point that you’re needy or desperate enough to reach out for a stranger to give you what your man can’t. I know exactly what you need, and I’d be happy to be the one to provide it.
I’ll come over when he’s not around. I want to use you like he never has, in his own home. In his bed. Turn his neglected, innocent wife into my filthy fuck toy. Think he’ll notice the taste of another man’s cum on your lips when he gets home?
Me: 48, 5’8”, 180lbs, white, brown hair and eyes, beard. Discrete. North side of the city. Can’t host but can travel.
You: mid-30s, in a relationship but needing more. Ready to lose all inhibitions and give into your most carnal desires.
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- 11 months ago
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