The Girlfriend’s Version
“Damn! How in the hell am I going to sneak past my man with these wet panties on?” I spoke out loud, but barely above a whisper. I was standing at the back door to my house, trying to figure out a way to go in and bypass my man at the same time. There he was, sitting with his sorry ass in front of the television as usual. These days, that was all he seemed to have time for. He no longer seemed to have an interest in me. No, there was no interest in fucking me, but he would frisk my ass like he was the police, whenever I returned home from anywhere. I was usually good about this sort of thing. Generally, I covered my tracks pretty well before leaving the house. I always buy two pair of the same panties whenever I shop. And, I would sneak the extra pair out of the house by tucking them inside of the panties I was already wearing. After I finished “doing my thing,“ I’d just throw away the soiled pair and replace them with the fresh pair. This time, I wasn’t on top of my game. So, here I am standing outside in the dark with a pair of wet panties on. How did this all become so fucked up when I was only “doing my thing?” I mean, don’t I have the right to have my needs met, and since his ass don’t seem up for the job. I go elsewhere to have the job done. See, when I’m “doing my thing,” I’m working, or should I say doing volunteer work (I do mine for the benefits not for the pay) at this place called “TRIX.” Yeah, it’s exactly what it sounds like. A fuck house basically, where men, ( and women ) pay you to turn tricks and to provide treats. I found this place on the internet, and I’ve been working there for a couple of months, now. Well, tonight was my lucky night, because I met the sweetest trick I’d ever had. He was a weird one though, because we both had to wear these African tribal masks the entire time. Also, the room was dark, lit only by make-shift torches, and there was some crazy ass African motherland music playing in the background. You know, the kind with a lot of beating drums in it. But, hey it was kind of cool, though. I guess he wanted to plant his seed in mother Africa, or maybe he wanted to pretend as if he was truly inside the motherland. I don’t know, but his dick was on point, and his tongue his all the right spots. So, nothing else really mattered at that point. What mattered then was that I was being fucked while standing on my head, my ass and pussy was licked and sucked from behind, and I had so much of his dick inside my ass that it felt like he was performing a colonoscopy on me.
Damn, this dude made me cum from places I didn’t think cum could originate from. Hmmm … and my tits are tender right now. The way that dude swallowed these babies up, I know he sucked me down from a C cup to a B. I’m not complaining though, I had more nuts tonight than the entire Planters corporation has in existence, today. But, I held my own, too. Every time I squeezed his dick with these moist, juicy lips, he couldn’t help but to cum inside of me. I loved sucking him off and letting him nut all over my tits, my back, and my ass, wherever his load landed … it was more than welcomed. When I was sucking his dick, deep-throating it like it was my very own tootsie roll pop, I knew I had left my claw marks in his ass cheeks, because I had him gripped tightly, pulling him as close to me as I could get him. I wanted all of his dick in my mouth … balls and all! “Wow,” I said aloud. “What a wild fucking night. The best sex I ever had with some weird ass dude who wanted to fuck with masks on and African music playing. Wow, it was amazing. But, I still don’t know what I’m going to do about these wet panties. All of that dude’s shit is running out of me like water. What the fuck am I gonna do, I can’t go in the house like this.” I sat down on the stoop, contemplating on what my next move would be. I knew there was no way in hell I was going to pass his pussy inspection in this condition. “Damn,” I said, “I fucked up!”

The Boyfriend’s Version
“Damn! I wonder what time she’s coming home. I thought she would make it home before I did, but I see that she still ain’t here, yet.” He said aloud. He looked at his watch, checking to see what time it was. It’s almost midnight, where in the hell could she be at this hour? He leaned back into his recliner and closed his eyes, thinking over the events of the evening. As he settled into his chair, pain shot through the back of his body. He winced at his discomfort … moaning lightly over the pain from his recent injury. Lately, he and his girlfriend had not been connecting on a sexual level. There were things he wanted to try, but he wouldn’t dare ask his girlfriend to do any of them. His girlfriend was too ladylike to ever be as freaky in the bedroom as he liked to be. He was too ashamed to even ask her to try anything outside of their regular missionary-style of lovemaking. So, he started to seek his pleasures, elsewhere.
Some bitch he had fucked earlier, at the local whore house, scratched the shit out of him while she was sucking his dick. How was he going to explain those scratches to his girlfriend? “Damn,” he said, “I fucked up!”


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