We’d gotten married before we both realized marriage between us was a mistake. Sodiq and I were just too bad for a union, the daily emotional stress suctioned my life out of me nearly. We opted for a divorce inevitably.
Soon as our divorce was had done with, I took up job with a media house that required me traversing the country about.
The more my new job exposed me to new people and interacting with them, the more my desire grew for a good lay, an outright stranger or no, to cleanse myself of my Sodiq’s sexual deposit.
One cool night, I strolled out of the hotel I was lodging in at the time for work and walked into the bar casually. Shortly after I had had a few glasses of drink, I smelled out a young, handsome and tall hunk checking me out. It occurred to me there and then that this could be just what I have been looking for. I wanted so badly to fuck and this hunk of mine appeared just the man for the job.
I had begun imagining his junk in my hand, and his warm mouth on my excited nipples, and I almost dreamed his cock into my cunt. These rousing thoughts were practically inescapable.
I knew nothing of him, and yet I wanted all of him immediately. Not only was I horny as hell and could lay just about anything this particular night, I sought so terribly to conquer the sexual memories of my Sodiq left behind, which, for some odd reason, I supposed I could achieve with riding another cock just once. I craved adventure to blot out the staleness eating my life to rust. All these erotic
thoughts kept mounting inside of me until I noticed his wedding ring. Heavens! Was I paralyzed! My disappointment was nearly screaming the roof off.
I was still hanging there at the bar when he moved up to me to spit game, and I realized my excitement for him hadn’t abated one wisp of a thought. I felt my nipples getting harder and my pelvic muscles tightening. I asked him at once about the “situation” because I wasn’t inclined to lay waste any sexual energies but the ravishingly handsome man assured me that he and his wife had long before come to a certain understanding that permitted him a goodly extent of freedom in things of this nature.
He invited me upstairs to his hotel room, I had a few more to drink with him and soon we were tearing at each other, having a go. We went three rounds in quick succession, fucking like animals, and with each orgasmic eruption, I felt little and little more of Sodiq’s toxin washing away from me. I knew no bounds in joy. I think I had supposed right after all; the more of another, the less of my ex-husband.
Early morning next, he received a call from his wife and I could catch a whiff of guilt in his tone which put him out for a liar the night before with respect to the claimed “understanding.” But for some reason, I didn’t feel an iota of disgruntlement. As it was, I got just what I needed, and had it to satisfaction. I had had a great burden lifted off of my need, and that was all I could acknowledge at the time, all that mattered. I went back home in higher spirits than ever I had been from that trip with the crew, thinking to myself I really should do this often.
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