Straight Female / 42
I Can't Stop
About a year and a half ago, my husband and I separated. He had become addicted to alcohol and medication following an injury at work, and became a different man for a while.
When we separated, we both kind of knew it was temporary. Or, hoped it would be. Until he got himself well again.
During that time, many of my friends and coworkers urged me to take the time to explore anything I might have wanted to, but never did. One of the top on my list, cliche as it is, was to be with a black man.
After a lot of back and forth in my head, and after another fight with my estranged husband...I did it. I signed up with Tindr, with the help of a young coworker who knew how it all worked. I swiped right on every black man I found and within a couple of days, I had dozens of messages. I chose one, and two days later he was at my house.
He was younger, in good shape, and intense. He was pretty big, yes, and the sex was amazing. I came more than I thought possible. He stayed the night, but not much sleep was had. We had sex over and over and over again. The first time, we were safe. Used a condom, but after that all thoughts of condoms went away and I let him inside me bare. He came inside me multiple times that night. The pleasure was absolutely beyond anything I ever imagined.
After he left, I felt a pang of guilt. I went about my business though. Two days later, my mind and body were screaming at me that I needed more. I pulled tindr back up and messaged my lover from two nights before. No response for what seemed like ever, in reality was only like thirty minutes, so...I randomly replied to a different man that had messaged me. Two hours later, his thick bare cock was pounding me too.
The guilt was less this time, but the pleasure definitely was not. If anything, it only made my desires stronger. This became the norm for me, it was almost like ordering food on a whim sometimes. Every few days, sometimes every day, I was gleefully spreading my legs for some black man. I could not get enough. Just as my husband had been addicted to the things he wasl, I was an addict for black cock. As I said, so cliche.
After several months of this incredible sex life I was having, my husband and I moved to reconcile. He was still undergoing treatment, but was mostly functional. I deleted my tindr from my phone and stopped logging in to the various other online hookup sites I had enrolled in. I was ready to throw myself back in to the good wife life. I was happy...
For maybe a week. My husband and I had sex twice that week...and I could not orgasm. At all. I faked it, for him, but I was frustrated. And horny as hell. And I knew what i needed but we were back together and that would be wrong and...
It took another week before I broke down and redownloaded tindr. I figured it couldn't hurt to just look, to fantasize to inspire to help get me off...and then there were the messages waiting for me there. It was almost like automatic, no thought when I replied to one...and then another...and another. I told my husband I had to run an errand for a friend later that night. I went to a parking garage where I arranged to meet this new man, and rode his cock hard right there in his car. The next day I met another man during my lunch break.
I was officially a cheating wife, and I still haven't stopped. I can't seem to. I've tried but the siren song of the addiction draws me back in every time. Several times every week, I am cheating on my husband. I am terrible, and part of me wants to stop absolutely but that part has gotten quieter and quieter.
When we separated, we both kind of knew it was temporary. Or, hoped it would be. Until he got himself well again.
During that time, many of my friends and coworkers urged me to take the time to explore anything I might have wanted to, but never did. One of the top on my list, cliche as it is, was to be with a black man.
After a lot of back and forth in my head, and after another fight with my estranged husband...I did it. I signed up with Tindr, with the help of a young coworker who knew how it all worked. I swiped right on every black man I found and within a couple of days, I had dozens of messages. I chose one, and two days later he was at my house.
He was younger, in good shape, and intense. He was pretty big, yes, and the sex was amazing. I came more than I thought possible. He stayed the night, but not much sleep was had. We had sex over and over and over again. The first time, we were safe. Used a condom, but after that all thoughts of condoms went away and I let him inside me bare. He came inside me multiple times that night. The pleasure was absolutely beyond anything I ever imagined.
After he left, I felt a pang of guilt. I went about my business though. Two days later, my mind and body were screaming at me that I needed more. I pulled tindr back up and messaged my lover from two nights before. No response for what seemed like ever, in reality was only like thirty minutes, so...I randomly replied to a different man that had messaged me. Two hours later, his thick bare cock was pounding me too.
The guilt was less this time, but the pleasure definitely was not. If anything, it only made my desires stronger. This became the norm for me, it was almost like ordering food on a whim sometimes. Every few days, sometimes every day, I was gleefully spreading my legs for some black man. I could not get enough. Just as my husband had been addicted to the things he wasl, I was an addict for black cock. As I said, so cliche.
After several months of this incredible sex life I was having, my husband and I moved to reconcile. He was still undergoing treatment, but was mostly functional. I deleted my tindr from my phone and stopped logging in to the various other online hookup sites I had enrolled in. I was ready to throw myself back in to the good wife life. I was happy...
For maybe a week. My husband and I had sex twice that week...and I could not orgasm. At all. I faked it, for him, but I was frustrated. And horny as hell. And I knew what i needed but we were back together and that would be wrong and...
It took another week before I broke down and redownloaded tindr. I figured it couldn't hurt to just look, to fantasize to inspire to help get me off...and then there were the messages waiting for me there. It was almost like automatic, no thought when I replied to one...and then another...and another. I told my husband I had to run an errand for a friend later that night. I went to a parking garage where I arranged to meet this new man, and rode his cock hard right there in his car. The next day I met another man during my lunch break.
I was officially a cheating wife, and I still haven't stopped. I can't seem to. I've tried but the siren song of the addiction draws me back in every time. Several times every week, I am cheating on my husband. I am terrible, and part of me wants to stop absolutely but that part has gotten quieter and quieter.
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