One that I feared, yet had to explore. I had to know. Was I a slut? Am I a slut. To be used by men for their enjoyment. I had to laugh, for I suddenly...realized that this latter part was my marriage: Being used by hubby. The selfish bastard.KMart was coming back into view. Driving more carefully, more attentively, I switched lanes. The centre. The right. The turn lane.Fear gripped me.A quick glance over my left shoulder, a mighty jerk on the steering wheel, and I was propelling the car. Anyway, our relationship grew and I got to fuck herevery which way after work and on weekends. We’d goaway together in her Volkswagen van and camp out andfuck like rabbits. I even counted that I’d had 17 cumsone weekend. Cindy was a hot white girl and I likedfucking her a lot.Then one day she told me about this thing she liked todo. Apparently before she knew me she’d go down to skidrow from time to time to find a drunk bum and fuck him,even if he was passed out. She said. More

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