Macy’s head snapped up, and she shot out several consecutive screams as I pounded her hard in the ass. I bit my lip and grabbed her shoulders, thrusting my hips vigorously. She let out a few grunts, sounding like an infusion of pleasure and pain. A cunning smile appeared on my face as I saw my thick dick stretch her ass. Her tightness showed me that I had beaten her husband to the punch.
I raised my chin, closed my eyes and moaned, feeling that I was going to shoot out my biggest load. Seeing Macy on her hands and knees, her voluptuous butt wobbling with each thrust, heightened my lust. She was one of the few women I had given it to anally, and it felt amazing.
I wanted to bang her more and avoid ejaculating, so I pulled my dick out and tapped it on her ass. She dropped her head and panted. Sweat had covered my forehead and glistened my chest. Even if I say so myself, that was one of my best performances.
I smacked her ass, letting her know that more was to cum. Excuse the pun. I slid my hands up her back and then squeezed her shoulders. Thinking about sticking my dick back into her ass made me harder, but I wanted to make her wait. The anticipation would make her want my dick more.
My right hand slid over her ass and then down her leg. Macy looked at me over her shoulder, the look in her eyes showing her desire to resume. I cupped her tit, filling my hand. I loved big tits. They’re nice to squeeze, and I enjoy seeing them bounce.
I grabbed my dick and pressed it against her anus. She inhaled a deep breath, probably prepping herself for a wilder ride. I planned to give her just that.
Macy raised her head as I shoved my dick into her ass. I grabbed her waist and slightly shifted forward in front of the bed. I resumed the thrusts slowly, then increased the pace. Macy tightened her lips, muffling her grunts. My strokes were short and rapid.
My pecks and abdomen tightened, and I clenched my teeth. Sweat slid down my face, but I kept up the aggression. I felt Macy’s pleasure culminate, and she raised her head and screamed. She was like a possessed demon, rattling her head and desiring more of the hard pounding.
I was glad to give her what she wanted. My balls were never that tight, and I knew the cumshot would be epic.
I clutched her shoulders again, ramping up the pace even more. The headboard flapped against the wall, smacking it rapidly. If we had been in an apartment, the neighbours would’ve heard us. I wanted the neighbourhood to hear how hard I was banging Macy.
I clenched my teeth and wheezed, ensuring that I maintained my stamina. Macy dunked her head and clenched the sheets. Her body tensed up, making me believe that she climaxed.
Her head snapped up, and she yelled, “Oh, God. That’s it. Right there. Yes.”
Macy leaned forward, her bum perking up as my dick popped out. Her chin brushed the sheets as she screamed, her body convulsing. I had done my job, but I wasn’t finished.
After giving her a few seconds to settle, I grabbed Macy’s waist and pulled her towards me. My chest expanded and contracted rapidly. I was eager to stick it into her ass and even more eager to explode.
My dick shoved into her ass, and I resumed the hard thrusts.
After about ten minutes, I felt my load bubbling up. I could’ve lasted several more minutes, but I badly wanted to cum.
I pulled my dick out and said, “Come here.”
Macy kneeled in front of me on the floor, and I clutched a fist of her hair, snapping her head back. She opened her mouth and looked up at me.
“Aaaaahhhh,” I exclaimed, my cum splattering on her face and mouth.
My balls twitched as more of my load covered her eyelids and smeared her cheeks. I smiled, seeing the load size. I knew it would be big, but I underestimated it.
Macy licked semen off her lips and swallowed it. That’s a good girl. I like my girls dirty. She opened her eyes, flickering her eyelids. It looked like my cum had glued her eyelids.
I exhaled a deep breath, proud of my accomplishment. Although I didn’t know how hard her husband banged his mistress, I was certain it wasn’t as aggressive as the pounding I gave his wife. Knowing that he was past his prime, I was convinced he was incapable of matching my load.
“That was great, Damon,” said Macy, lying on the bed and looking at me with a slight smile.
I put my pants on, winked at her and then walked out.
Standing beside my car, I looked at the house and flicked my cigarette. I blew out the last smoke and then got into my car.
Thinking about banging Macy and cumming on her face prompted me to look in the rear-view mirror and smile cunningly. Her cheating, bastard husband got what he deserved. That’s what you get when you’re not loyal to your wife, and you want to break up a home.
Sleeping with the wife of a cheating husband wasn’t revengeful enough. I had to bang her in their marital bed.
I parked across the road from the orphanage and recalled spending my youth there. That was my ritual after banging a wife whose husband cheated on her. I knew it was sick, but it brought me closure. I never would’ve spent a day in the orphanage had dad not cheated on mom. That bastard. He ruined all of our lives.
Sleeping with a wife made me feel that I got back at dad. The cheating husbands had to know that there was a punishment for their actions. They couldn’t keep cheating and ruining lives without getting a taste of their medicine. I supported the wives in demanding a high divorce settlement amount. If they had money, they could look after their children.
The engine sputtered as I turned the key. “Come on. Come on. Don’t do this to me now.”
After several attempts, I banged the steering wheel twice and said, “Stupid old thing.”
I reclined and blew steam out of my nose. I looked at the orphanage and shook my head, thinking about spending my entire life in poverty. Had I grown up in a normal family, I wouldn’t have had to fend for myself since I was a boy. Getting food after I ran away from the orphanage was an everyday struggle. I couldn’t stay there. I needed freedom, but I felt more imprisoned on the streets.
Two drunk students walked past me, and I asked them to push my car.
At the flat, I heard my prostitute neighbour getting pounded hard. She loved sex and got banged by some of the most ratchet men I had seen.
I lay on the mattress and puffed. My eyes closed, but I couldn’t fall asleep. Although sleeping with the wives gave me some closure, it made me feel guilty. I didn’t want to continue my treacherous ways. If only the past had been different.
The following week, I met Caroline in a clothing store. She was 18 years my senior. I always got a kick out of the surprised look on the wives’ faces when I told them that they were unhappily married. It was easy to spot them. Most of them looked miserable. Women love shopping, and only the hurt ones were miserable when picking out clothing. They comfort shopped, healing their wounds by picking out something nice for themselves.
After the coffee, I suggested going to her place.
“Maybe it’s best that we go to your place,” said Caroline.
The rule was to bang them in their marital bed. “It’s gonna be more fun at your place. Come on. What’s life without a little fun and danger?” I smiled cheekily.
Her forehead wrinkled. She frowned and slightly smiled, contemplating my proposal. “Okay, fine,” she said hesitantly. “But we have to be careful.”
Standing in front of her door, I watched her lift the pot plant and take the key. That was slightly strange, but I figured that she didn’t want to lose it when she went out.
I flung her onto her bed, and she shrieked. I was in the mood for wild sex. We rolled on the bed in every direction, alternating being on top.
I accidentally kicked the lamp, and it shattered on the floor. We stopped and looked at each other briefly, then burst into laughter before I ravaged her neck.
The sex with Caroline was some of the best I had.
As I put my pants on, Caroline asked, “What’s that?”
I turned to her and asked. “What’s what?”
“On your bum.”
“It’s a birthmark. Got it from my mom. She told me she had one in the exact same spot.”
She sat up, frowning. “Huh. Interesting. I used to be best friends with a woman who had one. But that was a long time ago. What’s your mother’s name?”
“Martha Clowsky.”
Her eyes and smile widened. “You’re kidding? The last time I saw you, you barely reached my knees.” She smiled and nodded. “So, you’re Martha’s boy.”
“Yeah. You know her?”
“We were best friends, but that was 15 years ago. I haven’t seen her since she left your father.”
“Don’t remind me of that scum.”
She frowned. “Why do you talk about him like that?”
“For a damn good reason. I’m sure you know that mom left him because he cheated on her.”
She shook her head. “No, your father didn’t cheat on Martha. That’s not why she left.”
“She left a note at the orphanage with the carers for me to read when I was old enough. The note said mom took me away from dad because he caused us a tremendous amount of pain, and she didn’t have money to take care of me. That’s why she left me at the orphanage.”
“You presume that the pain Martha mentioned was Frank cheating on her?”
“Yes,” I said sternly. “What else could it be?”
She stood up and put her hand on my shoulder. “Damon, your mother left your father because he lost everything. His business went sour, and he signed the house as surety for the business loan. The bank repossessed the house, and your father was left with nothing. The nail in the coffin was your mom taking you away from him. Your father would never have abandoned you, no matter his finances. I knew him longer than I knew your mother. I introduced them to each other.”
A lump formed in my throat as I stared at Caroline, my eyes wide and mouth open. “You’re sure about this?”
She nodded. “I tried to talk Martha out of leaving. But she was young and didn’t know any better.”
I looked at the floor and shook my head. “I can’t believe this. You mean to tell me that it was all mom’s fault?”
Caroline pursed her lips and lowered her gaze.
I stormed out.
On the way home, I couldn’t stop thinking about the pain that mom had caused. Not only did I suffer, but dad had died shortly after mom had left him. That poor man was alone and distraught. He must’ve wondered every day where I was. There’s no doubt in my mind that depression was one of the causes of his death.
I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead, thinking about his suffering. He didn’t deserve it. If my mom had lied to me and betrayed me, other women must’ve done the same. All the wives who told me that their husbands cheated and they wanted to sleep with me for revenge must’ve lied to me. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that the husbands had never cheated.
At home, I thought about the injustices that the husbands had suffered. They didn’t deserve it, and I had to make everything right.
I knew their addresses, so I went to their house. I took a deep breath and gulped, then buzzed the doorbell.
It wasn’t easy for me to look a husband in his eyes and tell him that I had slept with his wife. I explained my childhood and apologised profusely for the pain I had caused. Most of the husbands said they hadn’t cheated, and some thanked me for informing them. I gave them my number and told them that they could use me as a witness for leverage in the divorce. I would do anything to help them avoid paying a cent. They were the victims, not their manipulative wives.
After apologising to all of the husbands, I thought about Caroline. Although she had helped me, her husband deserved the truth. For all I knew, she had lied about her husband’s cheating.
I knocked on the door. “Hi, I’m Damon.”
A man wearing jeans and a tie said, “Hank. How can I help you?”
“I know your wife, Caroline. Would you mind if we speak inside?”
I saw a holster and handcuffs on his belt. “Sure,” he said.
In the lounge, I told him about the countless husbands who suffered injustices because of their wives, which was the reason for my visit.
“I appreciate you telling me this,” said Hank. “I didn’t cheat on Caroline. That’s just another lie in a string of lies that she is tangled up in. We’re separated and in the process of finalising the divorce. I kicked her out of the house after she cheated the first time. She’s not allowed in here and neither are you.”
He pulled out his handcuffs and then slapped them on my wrist. “You’re under arrest for trespassing, and since you broke my lamp, I’m gonna add a charge of vandalism. You know, Damon, in all my time on the force, the justice I enjoy seeing the most is when the culprit exposes all his accomplices and then turns himself in to the police.” He smirked. “You just don’t get better justice than that.”
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