Jamarcus- chapter 4 “Oh my god,” I thought to myself. “Wha..

Jamarcus- chapter 4 “Oh my god,” I thought to myself. “What the fuck have I just done.” Those words lingered in my head like a mist. The truth was, I knew exactly what I’d just done, but I was desperately attempting to manufacture enough ambiguity within my own mind to live with myself. The reality of the last 20 minutes of my life was nowhere near within the confines of the arrangement that I’d made with Jamarcus. Had I been able to limit myself to our agreement, I would have passively waited by for his urges to percolate to whatever redzone it is that prods him to seek out his relief. Then - and only then - would I have provided him with that relief. And I would have done so in a completely detached manner while also maintaining every ounce of control of myself in the process. Had i kept to the script that I myself had written, I would have lived up to my end of our bargain in a way that both protected my daughter and allowed me to defend any accusations that my actions were a betrayal of my marital vows. But that was definitely not how the night had played out. For some inexplicable reason, “I” has sought out “Jamarcus”. Disregarding my own pre-established ground rules, I didn’t wait for his arousal to build to the point that it brought him sniffing around my ass. No. To the utmost contrary, I had willfully gone out of my way to manufacture it. With my very own hands and mouth I brought him to complete erection. And then, like some common whore, I crawled astride his chiseled frame and slowly lowered my tight cunt inch by inch onto his thick black penis, eager to satisfy the very same need that I’d created. I felt the most bizarre sense of accomplishment as my pubic bone finally come into contact with his lower abdomen. Somehow, my petite body had managed to take this stud balls-deep, and the knowledge of that fact gave me the most surreal sense of feminine pride imaginable. The unparalleled sensation of being completely impaled on the biggest cock that I’d ever seen had me perched on the precipice of a massive orgasm. Even on those infrequent occasions where my husband was capable of achieving a full erection, never could he have given me such a feeling of complete and utter penetration. And now that I knew this feeling, I was acutely aware of the fact I’d been missing it my entire life. Which in turn filled me with an indescribable fear that I would no longer be able to live without it going forward. It was an epiphany that I wished more than anything I could undo. Now, completely limp and unable to move, I lay draped across Jamarcus like a blanket, vividly recalling every sordid detail of my infidelity. Just as nature intended, my tight little hole had milked his large black balls. The intensity with which I bounced my cunt up and down what had felt like a massive iron rod seemed in direct proportion with Jamarcus’s unmistakable efforts to stave off his own orgasm. It seemed that the more he fought to resist his primal urge to cum, the more fiercely I fought to elicit it. It was as though our reproductive parts were locked in some primal form of sexual combat, with my soaked pussy on the clear offensive. Until finally, Jamarcus relented. It’s difficult to even describe the sense of accomplishment I felt when he surrendered to me and allowed himself to climax. But it was the unexpected orgasm that rocked through my body at that very instant that caught me the most off guard, perhaps the result of some primitive reward system wired into every fertiIe woman’s body. The result was that I momentarily lost all sense of time and space. It wasn’t until the final wave of my climax had washed across my body that I felt the riptide of guilt immediately seize me to my core. And the post coital wave of shame that washed over me at the instant I felt Jamarcus’s softening penis finally slip from my vagina was nauseating. But still, I couldn’t move. The unmistakable sensation of having just been inseminated left me with an overwhelming urge to bathe. I desperately needed to purge myself of any remnant of the betrayal I’d just committed. But the absence of running water coupled with the darkness of night rendering it unsafe to venture to either the cove or the beach meant that any such cleansing would have to wait until morning. I would sleep the entire night with Jamarcus’s load. Finally, I somehow mustered the strength to pull myself up from Jamarcus’s massive body, and in the dying firelight I managed to find the crumpled little panties that I had no recollection of even removing. I quickly stepped back into them and without so much as even a “goodnight” to Jamarcus, I made my way back to the makeshift cot on the other side of camp that was my bed. I awoke at the first light of dawn. The memories from the prior night instantly flooded my consciousness, hitting me with an overwhelming wave of nausea. My first instinct was the same as the one I’d battled as I’d drifted to sleep the night before, which was to bathe away every last shred of evidence of my marital transgressions. So without bothering to so much as even don a top, I quickly scurried toward the cove wearing nothing but my now filthy panties. And it was in my mad scramble to make my way out of camp that I somehow tripped over the legs of my sleeping husband just beyond the thicket of brush that separated Jamarcus’s cot from the pathway. Tips always appreciated if you enjoy the stories I write for you. 🙏