1. But Hon, It Was Only Sex


    Date: 11/20/2014, Categories: Fetish, Hardcore, Interracial Sex, Author: kinghut, Rating: 71, Source: xHamster

    about what a great lover I was," I told a shocked Beth. "So when you said you wanted someone to compare me to, how do you think I felt?" "I never knew. Why didn't you tell me? Even after what I did?" she replied. "I told you why. It's a man thing. Ok? I wanted you to think that I was experienced enough to please you, but that's not the point now. Is it?" "I'm so sorry. I wish I could take it all back, but I can't," she told me. "Would I have stopped seeing him? Yes. I was getting ready to end it," she now said looking down at the ground to avoid looking at me. "I felt so dirty afterwards, and I knew it was wrong. I just couldn't say no to him," she sobbed. "Why don't I believe you, Beth? Do you know, that the women at your work suspected that you were cheating on me? Hell, Greg was the one, who called me, to ask if our marriage was in trouble, because you were screwing the coffee salesman. How embarrassing is that? To have one of our friends, call me to tell me my wife's a slut," I said now screaming. "I wanted to wring your damn neck," I told her. "All right, I screwed up. But now you have whores coming here, day and night. How do you think that makes me feel?" "Bad, I hope. I hope you feel awful, that you've driven me into others arms," I said staring at her. "When is it all going to end, Steve? When can we to try to pick up the pieces and start over," she said in a now pleading manner. "I don't know, Beth. Maybe when the hate I have inside me goes away, or when I just ...
    don't care anymore. I don't have an answer for you right now." "Well, I can 't live with you bringing hookers home every night, so you can rub them in my face. I'll be out by the end of the week," Beth said while standing up. "Where will you go?" I asked. "Does it make a difference? I just need to get away," she said as she walked back into the house and went upstairs. When I got home on Tuesday, she was gone. No note, or anything else, to say where she had gone. I tried to call her at work but Greg said that Beth had taken a leave of absence and hadn't left a forwarding address or phone number; I was getting a little worried. A casual call to her parents and s****r didn't provide me with any more information and I wasn't about to call our k**s and ask. Did I push it too far? I asked myself. No. I didn't think I had. Sandy called me on Thursday night to see what I was doing on the following Friday. "I know a quaint little place, outside of town on 318 West Street, that I've been dying to try," she told me. "Are you game?" "What time on Friday do you want to meet?" I asked. "Why don't I pick you up at about 6:30? It'll take us about forty-five minutes to get there. Bring a change of clothes. You owe me. Remember?" she said with a laugh. I started to give her my address, when she stopped me, "I know where you live. Just be ready." As I looked out the window on Friday night, there was still no word from Beth. "What the hell am I doing?" I said to myself. "My wife has taken off to ...
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