Filthy Passionate Sex With My Soon To Be Ex

I stopped having filthy passionate sex with my husband years ago.

My husband is a workaholic. He works 24/7 and barely has time for anything else. I have always been a very loyal woman, but a woman can only take so much of her husband’s bullshit. After I found the panties in the back of his car, thoughts of him having filthy passionate sex with another woman raced through my mind. I became convinced that he was cheating on me. The times we did go out, it seemed like his eyes were everywhere else but on me. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

Rather be a hoe than a housewife.

I would rather have all eyes on me, be a slut, and have fun than to be invisible. Today, I’m going to have some payback, literally. I am taking my husband’s Black Card and Mercedes Benz out for a little stroll to the mall. After sitting on the thoughts of him cheating, I realize I don’t care.  It gives me the freedom to do as I please! That includes taking OUR money and doing what I please with it. Such as strolling up and down the mall buying the sexiest outfits I can find, and whatever else I want!

Perhaps if I begin to dress like a slut he will have filthy passionate sex with me, instead of other women. See, luckily for me, I have always taken care of myself. I may not dress like a sexy petite 20-year-old, but I do look like one, especially when I get dolled up. I have a very tight and toned body, weigh 120 lbs., long dark hair, perky tits, and a very tight pussy. The only thing I was missing to make my husband, and most importantly, every other man who laid eyes on me drool, was a sexy wardrobe.

Making him angry makes my pussy crave filthy passionate sex.

By the time my husband got home, I had already gone on my shopping spree, to the spa, salon, and even the dealership to get a matching Mercedes Benz just like his. I probably spent $143,000 on the car and skimpy, short, tight outfits that day. I made it a point to toss all the receipts all over the front door entrance. His Black Card and keys were in plain sight so that he could put the puzzle pieces together. If only I had a camera there in the hallway to see the look on his face; I bet it was priceless.

Meanwhile, I was upstairs. I dressed in knee-high black leather stripper heels, a black string “slingshot” one-piece that barely covered my nipples and slit. I was waiting with my freshly done highlights and a face full of makeup, and legs wide open at the edge of the bed. There is no way he will resist some filthy passionate sex with me now. He burst in pissed off; his face was beet-red. He walked towards me as I wore a smirk on my face. Grabbing my throat, I was about to pass out; he smacked me over and over again.

Fuck me, use me, treat me like your whore while we have filthy passionate sex!

Eventually, he seemed to get turned on by the whole situation, dragging me to the floor. He stepped out his bottoms and began to face fuck me, calling me a slut while he ripped the hair out of my scalp from stuffing his cock so far in. Finally, we were having filthy passionate sex and I was his little bitch, but it felt so good. It’s been so long since he had fucked me this good, and once he came violating my ass, I turned smiling like a dominant dirty slut. With a smile on his face, and before saying a word, I handed him the divorce papers.

Is this the sexual healing you desire?

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