Sunday, September 25, 2011
The (Double) Life and Times of Annabelle Jones: Friday, September 23
The (Double) Life and Times of Annabelle Jones: Friday, September 23: What can I say about Friday, other than it was our (mine and my lovers) one-year anniversary (plus 6 days). It lived up to every bit of my ...
Friday, September 23
What can I say about Friday, other than it was our (mine and my lovers) one-year anniversary (plus 6 days). It lived up to every bit of my expectations. I'm not a sex-depraved woman; my husband doesn't ignore me. He gives me sex when I want it. There's only one thing he can't do, be the other men that I like having sex with.
It was a happen chance moment. Bobby's boss and mine were both out of town, so we took an early Friday to meet at our favorite hotel. I got the room and was there before he was, cooling the room because it's still so warm in Alabama. I was terribly excited, getting naked and waiting on him like a school girl waiting on the phone to ring.
My pussy started pouring on the bed as I thought about his head being between my legs very soon. I've never had a man that could eat like he can. His tongue is always soft, but firm enough to make me climax. His tongue explores every crevice of my cunt as if he's trying to memorize its contours and as if it's a taste that his body has been craving, a vital mineral that he needs to have or he will perish.
The knock came not soon enough. I always open and stand behind the door so that no one can see who is standing inside in case he were followed. He usually shuts the door and pushes me against the wall, his hands exploring my body, his tongue in my mouth. His smell, intoxicating; his taste, addictive.
I stand watching him get undressed. I try to help, but I'm more of a hindrance than a help. Once he's naked, his hands are on me again. And he always says those simple words that cause my vagina to purr...."You want me to fuck you, don't you." Crude, I know. But when you live such a pure, good-girl life, there's nothing like having a man pull out your inner whore, make you want to be that woman that meets in dirty hotels for nothing more than a piece of ass.
He tossed me on the bed, "You've been thinking about this fucking cock all day, haven't you, you fucking whore? Now lay dow and give me that sweet young pussy." He's so much bigger than I am, his legs pushing my thighs up the bed, his hands guiding my waist. And then with everything that is man in him, he spreads my legs, admiring his afternoon snack.
"Watch," he says..."Get up on your elbows and watch me, Bitch." I rise up and watch as he lets the spit stream from his lips to my throbbing clit. My body starts twitching, and I can't help but beg. "Eat it! Eat this fucking hot pussy."
And with that, he's between my legs, his warm tongue devouring my clit like a boy eating a strawberry ice cream in the hot southern sun. He moans and hums, enjoying my taste. Oh, how he loves to eat pussy. And oh how he is so good. He makes me cum so easily. He pulls them out with ease. And when my body starts jerking and I start trying to crawl up the bed, he wraps his large hands around my thighs and holds me to him, open and accessible until he licks out two or three. I was cumming all over his face, grabbing his head, squirming on the bed, grinding against his heavenly tongue.
It's then that he comes to kiss me, letting me taste myself on his lips. I can feel his cock pressed against my hole. He can feel my pussy squeezing, summoning his hard cock. I'm moving, manipulating myself, trying to get his cock inside me faster. But he holds off, makes me beg, teases me with the tip. He can always slide right in without ever using his hands. And it's that moment that his cock slides into my pussy that causes my back to arch and my eyes begin rolling back in my head. His cock is amazing.
I have amazing pussy control. I'm sure some men have been inside a woman when she laughed or coughed and felt that squeeze, but I squeeze when I want to. It's an art. I squeeze: soft, tight, fast, slow, long, quick. Most men cum almost instantly after I squeeze their cock. But he begs for it, "Squeeze it, squeeze it harder, Bitch. You can't make me cum. I control this fuck and you cum when I say."
The fucking lasts forever. He's on top, I'm on top. We're fucking fast; we're fucking slow. Mmmmm, that's my favorite: when he's on his back and I'm straddling him. He has his arms behind his head, kicked back without a care in the world acting as if like fucking me is the last thing on his mind. So, I keep fucking him, until he's grabbing my ass and begging me to cum all over his cock.
I have always been in control. It's almost like a head game I play. I make a man work hard for my cum. And I always let it go, when I'm ready. Until now...he pulls them out of me no matter how hard I try. I cuss him, calling him a mother fucker and a son of a bitch, screaming, "You're not supposed to be able to do this." He laughs and it makes my pussy quiver.
Every time I cum, I coat his cock and balls with pussy juice. Mmmm how is cock makes me squirt. Today, we finished w/ a good face fucking. That cock sliding in and out of mouth as he toyed w/ my button, making me cum with his cock in my mouth. I love tasting our juices mixed together.
And what makes it so much better is that we have a mutual understanding. We catch our breath, clean up, he kisses me on the cheek as I shut the door. And I take a moment, hesitating so we don't seem so obvious, and head home to a loving husband -- that I mentioned before, I love with all my heart. He's the only man I have ever wanted to spend the rest of my life with, just not the only man I ever want to fuck.....
It was a happen chance moment. Bobby's boss and mine were both out of town, so we took an early Friday to meet at our favorite hotel. I got the room and was there before he was, cooling the room because it's still so warm in Alabama. I was terribly excited, getting naked and waiting on him like a school girl waiting on the phone to ring.
My pussy started pouring on the bed as I thought about his head being between my legs very soon. I've never had a man that could eat like he can. His tongue is always soft, but firm enough to make me climax. His tongue explores every crevice of my cunt as if he's trying to memorize its contours and as if it's a taste that his body has been craving, a vital mineral that he needs to have or he will perish.
The knock came not soon enough. I always open and stand behind the door so that no one can see who is standing inside in case he were followed. He usually shuts the door and pushes me against the wall, his hands exploring my body, his tongue in my mouth. His smell, intoxicating; his taste, addictive.
I stand watching him get undressed. I try to help, but I'm more of a hindrance than a help. Once he's naked, his hands are on me again. And he always says those simple words that cause my vagina to purr...."You want me to fuck you, don't you." Crude, I know. But when you live such a pure, good-girl life, there's nothing like having a man pull out your inner whore, make you want to be that woman that meets in dirty hotels for nothing more than a piece of ass.
He tossed me on the bed, "You've been thinking about this fucking cock all day, haven't you, you fucking whore? Now lay dow and give me that sweet young pussy." He's so much bigger than I am, his legs pushing my thighs up the bed, his hands guiding my waist. And then with everything that is man in him, he spreads my legs, admiring his afternoon snack.
"Watch," he says..."Get up on your elbows and watch me, Bitch." I rise up and watch as he lets the spit stream from his lips to my throbbing clit. My body starts twitching, and I can't help but beg. "Eat it! Eat this fucking hot pussy."
And with that, he's between my legs, his warm tongue devouring my clit like a boy eating a strawberry ice cream in the hot southern sun. He moans and hums, enjoying my taste. Oh, how he loves to eat pussy. And oh how he is so good. He makes me cum so easily. He pulls them out with ease. And when my body starts jerking and I start trying to crawl up the bed, he wraps his large hands around my thighs and holds me to him, open and accessible until he licks out two or three. I was cumming all over his face, grabbing his head, squirming on the bed, grinding against his heavenly tongue.
It's then that he comes to kiss me, letting me taste myself on his lips. I can feel his cock pressed against my hole. He can feel my pussy squeezing, summoning his hard cock. I'm moving, manipulating myself, trying to get his cock inside me faster. But he holds off, makes me beg, teases me with the tip. He can always slide right in without ever using his hands. And it's that moment that his cock slides into my pussy that causes my back to arch and my eyes begin rolling back in my head. His cock is amazing.
I have amazing pussy control. I'm sure some men have been inside a woman when she laughed or coughed and felt that squeeze, but I squeeze when I want to. It's an art. I squeeze: soft, tight, fast, slow, long, quick. Most men cum almost instantly after I squeeze their cock. But he begs for it, "Squeeze it, squeeze it harder, Bitch. You can't make me cum. I control this fuck and you cum when I say."
The fucking lasts forever. He's on top, I'm on top. We're fucking fast; we're fucking slow. Mmmmm, that's my favorite: when he's on his back and I'm straddling him. He has his arms behind his head, kicked back without a care in the world acting as if like fucking me is the last thing on his mind. So, I keep fucking him, until he's grabbing my ass and begging me to cum all over his cock.
I have always been in control. It's almost like a head game I play. I make a man work hard for my cum. And I always let it go, when I'm ready. Until now...he pulls them out of me no matter how hard I try. I cuss him, calling him a mother fucker and a son of a bitch, screaming, "You're not supposed to be able to do this." He laughs and it makes my pussy quiver.
Every time I cum, I coat his cock and balls with pussy juice. Mmmm how is cock makes me squirt. Today, we finished w/ a good face fucking. That cock sliding in and out of mouth as he toyed w/ my button, making me cum with his cock in my mouth. I love tasting our juices mixed together.
And what makes it so much better is that we have a mutual understanding. We catch our breath, clean up, he kisses me on the cheek as I shut the door. And I take a moment, hesitating so we don't seem so obvious, and head home to a loving husband -- that I mentioned before, I love with all my heart. He's the only man I have ever wanted to spend the rest of my life with, just not the only man I ever want to fuck.....
The truth will set you free????
I often wondered how people lived double lives for years...even had two different families without anyone ever knowing. I wondered if the wife -- I only say that because it's usually men with double lives. I guess it would be kind of hard for a woman to have children with two separate men. Might not be if the husband was serving military overseas, but then wouldn't the current children sell her out? Anyway....I always wondered if the wife was just oblivious or so self-absorbed, which would -- not necessarily absorb the fault of the marriage, but at least add to it; right?
What about those people that live minor double lives....like 1.5 lives? It has been quite easy, if I do say so myself. It isn't something that I'm necessarily proud of, but it seems to be a staple for my sanity. And it is definitely something that I've never shared fully with anyone...until now? Doesn't make much sense, does it?
I've wondered if it was my traumatic childhood. Is it my fear that someone will always leave me, so I stay one step ahead of the game. Always ready to leave them, keeping something on the back burner.
It would be crazy for me to say I don't love my family. My husband is amazing. Really, what woman doesn't want a man that would do ANYTHING for her....well, anything but make the children behave, and clean house and cook. But after putting that on paper (so-to-speak), isn't that the wife's job? Eh, maybe not.
So, as wonderful as my husband is and perfect as my children are (2 beautiful girls, one musically talented, one athletic, both insanely intelligent), why would i be found in the arms of other men? 2 literally, 5 possibly, and 1 electronically to be exact.
But let's break it down....1 -- let's call him Bobby -- is because I want to. He's older than I am; he's phenomenal in bed; he can have sex for hours; and he's big and muscular and can throw me around the bed like a sex-craved toy.
2 -- let's call him Al -- is out of necessity. Sort of happened because Bobby and I needed a cover. So, for "payment," he gets a small piece of the pie. He prefers blow jobs and he's super easy to please, and that takes care of my cover, small price to pay if you ask me.
The possible 5 (the two aforementioned).....3 is a friend of Bobby's. Let's call him John. John is just an option if Bobby and I ever decided to add a 3rd to the party.
4 is a guy that I took care of....hmmm, Joey. That works. Joey made a surprising confession after knowing him for 15 months, and what was that confession? That he wanted to do naughty things to me for a very long time, but he was so afraid to say anything because I was such a "good" girl, but he couldn't beat around the bush anymore....
5 is a precious, precious friend, Lance, that everyone seems to think we have something, but we never have. I love him like a brother, but I'm adding him for argument's sake.
And electronically is Matt. I've known Matt going on 4 years. We talk almost daily and there's never been anyone that made me doubt who I was to be married to, but him. There's a connection like none of I've ever seen, because I believe it's invented -- not real.
Did I mention that on top of all this, I'm considered a precious precious goody-goody? And a couple of years ago, I did a 4-year service in the church?
So, maybe double lives aren't so dramatic......
What about those people that live minor double lives....like 1.5 lives? It has been quite easy, if I do say so myself. It isn't something that I'm necessarily proud of, but it seems to be a staple for my sanity. And it is definitely something that I've never shared fully with anyone...until now? Doesn't make much sense, does it?
I've wondered if it was my traumatic childhood. Is it my fear that someone will always leave me, so I stay one step ahead of the game. Always ready to leave them, keeping something on the back burner.
It would be crazy for me to say I don't love my family. My husband is amazing. Really, what woman doesn't want a man that would do ANYTHING for her....well, anything but make the children behave, and clean house and cook. But after putting that on paper (so-to-speak), isn't that the wife's job? Eh, maybe not.
So, as wonderful as my husband is and perfect as my children are (2 beautiful girls, one musically talented, one athletic, both insanely intelligent), why would i be found in the arms of other men? 2 literally, 5 possibly, and 1 electronically to be exact.
But let's break it down....1 -- let's call him Bobby -- is because I want to. He's older than I am; he's phenomenal in bed; he can have sex for hours; and he's big and muscular and can throw me around the bed like a sex-craved toy.
2 -- let's call him Al -- is out of necessity. Sort of happened because Bobby and I needed a cover. So, for "payment," he gets a small piece of the pie. He prefers blow jobs and he's super easy to please, and that takes care of my cover, small price to pay if you ask me.
The possible 5 (the two aforementioned).....3 is a friend of Bobby's. Let's call him John. John is just an option if Bobby and I ever decided to add a 3rd to the party.
4 is a guy that I took care of....hmmm, Joey. That works. Joey made a surprising confession after knowing him for 15 months, and what was that confession? That he wanted to do naughty things to me for a very long time, but he was so afraid to say anything because I was such a "good" girl, but he couldn't beat around the bush anymore....
5 is a precious, precious friend, Lance, that everyone seems to think we have something, but we never have. I love him like a brother, but I'm adding him for argument's sake.
And electronically is Matt. I've known Matt going on 4 years. We talk almost daily and there's never been anyone that made me doubt who I was to be married to, but him. There's a connection like none of I've ever seen, because I believe it's invented -- not real.
Did I mention that on top of all this, I'm considered a precious precious goody-goody? And a couple of years ago, I did a 4-year service in the church?
So, maybe double lives aren't so dramatic......
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