What a waste – ten fucking years. Don’t get me wrong, in the beginning, the sex was animalistic, the way he took me, my body, my cunt, my mind, and the hair-pulling was electric. I loved being his slut – he owned me. The pounding I received regularly was second to none. Sexual exhaustion was commonplace and believe me I had the stamina for it. Then the sex became superb, then brilliant, then good…

Ten years is all it took to become non-existent.

This is why, for the last four years, I have laid in bed at night and masturbated myself to sleep. His incessant snoring keeps me company while my cunt explodes on my fingers and dildos. My body exercises all restraint possible in keeping the noise to a minimum.

Mornings are the same. I smile when he leaves to go to work, not because I love him, but because I can get to work on my cunt. I should have a long line of fuck-buddies willing to take my ass, but I’m a good girl.  As soon as he closes the door, my nipples are out of my dressing gown and my fingers flick at them until they are erect. My pussy leaks and aches from the thought of doing it. My ass is halfway onto the kitchen table by the time my fingers find my juicy cunt. Being in the zone is all that matters. It seems that I love and live for orgasms.

I’ve nearly been caught a few times when he forgot his briefcase or important documents. Those moments always made me giggle because he had no idea what I was doing trying to cover myself up.

I know that tonight, after our meal and a few hours of watching television, he will be off to bed and I will be entertaining thoughts of how I’ll be getting off.

But, as the saying goes, enough is enough. It’s the thirteenth of February and to be honest, there have been more ‘last straws’ than I care to remember. It ends tonight…

ooOoo

It was close, there was a tender moment when we first got into bed. A few kisses and caresses. I thought I was going to be lucky, but when I touched his cock there was nothing there to speak of. Soon after, he had rolled over and was asleep, leaving me staring at the ceiling, my mind full of lustful thoughts with my body feeding off them.

It wasn’t until I heard the familiar sounds of snoring that I let my hand wander over my body. A few minor gasps left my mouth as my fingers teased my nipples to hardness. I love playing with them. I’ll sit for ages and just flick them, the signals feed my throbbing cunt and I have climaxed just by playing with them.

It won’t take me long tonight because I know what’s going to happen.

Sliding my hand down my body I can feel her with me. Eight weeks of pent-up memories surface, three weeks of coffee mornings, two further weeks of mild flirting and suggestive sex talk, and three weeks of debauchery. They have been the longest three weeks of my life. All I can see – is her.

My body jerks to my finger entering my cunt. No finesse, straight in, up to the knuckle. A few wiggles before a second one joins it for a methodical stroke. I feel so reserved in my actions compared to her.

Sabrina. I almost call out her name. If these were her fingers, I’d have come twice already. She’s a needy, dirty bastard that just ploughs in and takes what she wants. No excuses.

I can feel myself building up to my first orgasm. One hand tweaking my nipple while the other fucks my cunt tenderly. My mind, searching for that one scene of her that I need to playback and convert these feelings.

My eyes are closed as tight as a virgin’s cunt, denying light any entry apart from the sparks of white and red that my brain generates all on its own. The concentration on my face is a mix of lust, memories, and trying to make something rude from the sparkling patterns behind my eyelids. My body and the bed are both on the verge of shaking, but still, he lay snoring, next to me.

I roll over. Leaving my nipples to the mercy of the bedclothes. I breathe heavily into the pillow. My hand shoots down to my clit and my fingers are hard at work.

And there it is, the one memory that I need, the one of her pulling me back to the edge of this bed, my marital bed, placing me on all fours, spreading my ass cheeks with her hand. Her words filtered and fed my orgasm. I can hear her say the words quite clearly.

“I’m going to own you, bitch.”

Oh yes, those words, followed by her actions. I couldn’t believe she rimmed me on our first date. I couldn’t believe I took her home and let her get that far, but I was stunned into needy helplessness. She shocked me to my very core on that first date.

Her tongue lapped at my cunt and tiny star until I felt it insert itself into my little hole. I remember dying and going to heaven. The fingers of her hand strummed my pussy lips, shaking them from side to side before delving right on in there. The slimness of her hand disappeared into my juicy cunt. Her eagerness astounded me. Yet, she just kept me on the edge the whole time, not letting me fall.

Her tongue just pushed in and out of my ass. That’s it, that’s the image I need while my busy fingers circle my clitty.

Pillows are a godsend, they absorb every whimper, every moan and groan, every cry and scream, and even all the sobbing I’ve done over the years. My body convulses with memories of her playing me over and over until I can take no more. I cum hard next to him, with thoughts of her tongue inside me. How he never wakes, is beyond me.

I eventually roll on my side and cup my breast.

Is one enough? Should I go for a second?

I let a finger caress my star but it's nothing like her tongue. Nothing like it at all.

I curl up into a satisfied ball at the thought of her next to me and fall asleep thinking of how her tongue is ten times better than my husband’s cock.

ooOoo

Six o’clock in the morning, in a cold and foreboding place, is somewhat unwelcoming. He lies next to me, but all I can think of is her. All his past demeanours suddenly appear in vivid colours in front of me. His uncaring manner, lack of social skills, and inability to help with the basic household chores. Why the fuck did I marry him? I even forgave him when he fucked my best friend one drunken New Year's eve. He had been gone a long time when I found him in the loo close to midnight. They hadn’t even locked the door. All I saw was her naked ass bouncing on his cock on the toilet seat. I lost a good friend that night, though she still doesn’t know why.

Disappointment on the human heart is like a dripping tap. It’s relentless, and eventually, it will wear away even granite. I cannot explain why mine has lasted so long. I feel that he’s sucked the life out of me.

I can’t help smiling as Sabrina’s image pops into my head. I remember her words one afternoon after she’d ruthlessly taken my body, ‘…it would be so much easier if he just disappeared,’ she’d said.

I start to fill a suitcase, cramming it full of expensive clothes before I return to the bed and start to caress my nipples. I reach for my phone. I couldn’t resist a picture of my tits, erect nipples and a short message.

His waking moments are a slumber. A realisation that it’s Tuesday the fourteenth, and his hand reaches out under the bed. Pulling out an envelope, he makes a move to kiss me but I’m not in the mood. He’s had his chances. He hands me the envelope.

My mind screams… Well fuck me, he’s bought a card.

I look at what’s being offered with disdain, surprise even. Now, after three years he remembers Valentine’s day? Well, he can fuck off!

The kiss isn’t coming his way, and he sits up in bed. I smile at him and eventually take the card. I shake my head and leave the bedroom momentarily. The straw is under so much tension, pulled to within inches of snapping. When I re-enter the bedroom, he seems surprised. He should be.

“Fuck off out of my house,” I yell.

He stands there, dumbfounded and unable to move. He’s not blind, he can see the knife in my hand. I raise the card in the air and slice through it several times. Like a knife through butter. I throw what remains of the card at him. His natural defensive reaction is to shy away from me. I can’t blame him for that.

“Fuck off out of my house or your balls will be next,” my stare is probably worse than the knife in my hand.

“Debs…what…”

I hold the knife up and let him reconsider speaking. I point to the suitcase that I filled with his clothes earlier in the first two hours since I had been awake. His day clothes lying on top of it.

“Everything you need is there, you need to leave, I’ve had enough.”

Turning his head away from me and sighing was never going to make me reconsider, and yet, feeling brave, I get a little bit closer to him. His hands, palm upwards, his head shaking from side to side is not going to help. His inaction is just making me feel more annoyed than I had been at six this morning. I reach out suddenly and grasp his cock and balls. The tip of the knife, sneering at the thin sensitive skin.

His mouth opens wide and his eyes wider.

“In my defence, you just cut yourself shaving,” I told him, yet I distinctly felt a twitch of his cock as I uttered those words.

His head shook from side to side in a desperate effort to speak. He took a step and then another, constrained by my hold on his genitals. I pressed the knife forward, the tip just pressing into his ball sack, just enough for me to see him squirm and feel his body shudder.

I had never felt so empowered in all my life.

“You’d better leave, right now, maybe not enough time to put your clothes on, eh!”

I released him and pushed him towards the suitcase and the door.

I’ve never seen a man run for his life before, but he did. He gathered up his belongings and the suitcase and headed downstairs to the front door.

“You can take the car,” I shouted after him.

I heard the front door open and slam shut as I exited the bedroom. I heard the car start and stop as I was walking down the stairs. The knock on the door surprised me. I had to question his actions but seeing how close to nine-thirty it was, and seeing how hard my nipples had become, I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

I opened the door.

“What?” I asked, swaying from side to side in disbelief.

“Debbie, can we talk about this…”

The knife suddenly thrust forward, our best Japanese Sujihiki knife, long and thin, was a mere centimetre from his nose. I shook my head but said nothing.

I finally watched him leave. His car paused at the gates long enough to allow a bright yellow Skoda onto the driveway.

Suddenly, my heart started beating again, and I could hear the flow of blood through my veins. The knife hand dropped to my side, and I let out a loud sigh of relief.

The yellow car door opened and I realised who had just stepped out of it.

“Debbie, are you okay?” she asked. “The text I received this morning, frightened me.”

I nodded.

“Was that Dave?” She said, pointing in the direction of the gate.

I nodded. “He’s gone, finally.”

We listened to the birds tweet in the trees and the wind rustle the leftover Autumn leaves on the ground for what seemed an appropriate length of time. I finally let out a sob and pulled her in close. I felt her take me in her arms to comfort me and yet, I felt her wicked smile look me over like I was a piece of sexual meat.

She knew me all too well.

I pulled myself back from her and while holding her close pulled the knife up and into her stomach. I let out a groan.

“Get up those stairs, right now, or else!”

The look on her face was a picture. She took time to look down at the knife poking into her leather jacket, towards her stomach, before moving to one side of it.

She entered the house and walked upstairs. I prodded her backside once or twice to make her move faster.

“Now strip,” I told her.

I watched from behind as she slowly removed her clothes and sent them flying across the room, landing conveniently on pieces of ripped card and paper. She was about to remove her knickers when I stopped her.

I had the biggest grin on my face as I pushed her onto the bed. I made her kneel at the edge. Reaching around to grasp both her cheeks with my hand, I grunted at her.

“Can you feel this cold Damascus steel on your skin?” I dragged the blade across the small of her back.

She nodded.

“You know that I’m going to use it, don’t you.”

She nodded.

I inserted the knife just shy of her asshole and pulled the knife upwards. The fabric of her knickers was no match for the sharp blade as it fell away from her body.

I prised her cheeks apart, dropped to my knees and inserted my tongue into her ass.

It was her turn to get rimmed and let me tell you, the sight of her cock, dangling between her legs, turned me on even more.

Yes, now I’m alive. This is how it should be. Our bodies convulse with tongues on the Eye of Tigers and a certain degree of rawness to the sex.

This is my change of direction. She’s moving in, we just didn’t have time with the baggage.