The Price of Neglect Part 3
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The Price Of Neglect (Part 2) free porn video
[ For Megan....again! Also, for all those women, married, or single, who have ever found themselves neglected by husband or boyfriend, and longed to be treated like a desirable woman again---not all men are necessarily self-centered twits and losers; though sadly many are! Take heart. Not ALL are! ]
Even though Cindy had gone to bed well after midnight, she didn't fall asleep right away. In the darkened room she kept replaying in her mind the various sights and sounds that had accompanied her first 'extra-marital' affair; and though it was her first time, she felt little, if any, regrets in having done so.
Her husband and she had been quite miserable for many years leading up to this moment. She'd tried extremely hard to over look her husbands increasingly abusive language towards her, as well as the shocking level of racism that he seemed obsessed by. She'd poured herself into being a good mother for their daughter, and a good employee where she worked; and, in doing so, she could ignore her own domestic unhappiness (at least most of the time). Still, her marriage continued to deteriorate; and her husband became more and more verbally abusive, berating and denigrating her at every chance. There were some really terrible shouting matches between them, where their daughter had overheard. Then, which might have been the final straw, politics is what, ironically, broke the camels back, so to speak; though it hadn't been until Cindy had flown to Florida to be away from her husband for a while, as well as spending time with her daughter, who was living with Cindy's mother, that she fully realized that she had come to the end of her desire to keep trying to be the 'good wife' for a (sadly) bad husband.
She'd known the black man that had lived next door to her mother for quite some time. In fact, in a way, he'd become a friend of the family through his checking in on her mother from time to time to make sure she was okay. Of course, because he was black, her husband had had nothing good to say about him; and, interestingly enough, but her husbands constant denigration of blacks had a curious effect on Cindy: The more her husband railed against blacks, the more she found herself curiously attracted to them, and especially black men.
Whenever she was down there seeing her mother (and her daughter), it seemed as if she found herself drawn to this friendly, out-going black neighbor man. She did nothing about it, of course, but, somewhere in the back of her mind, a tiny voice began to speak, and the last visit she'd made there, she'd found herself wanting to fuck him; and the very thought of that had excited her tremendously. She hadn't felt like that in a very long time, and she enjoyed the way it made her feel almost young again!
Still, she didn't act on the thought, but the thought itself didn't go away. If anything, it slowly, but surely, increased over time! Of course, she keep such thoughts to herself. How would her daughter think of her, she wondered, if she fucked some other man besides her father? Would she see her as a 'whore', a 'slut?' Cindy had never cheated on her husband, though she had often wondered if his denigrating and verbally abusive treatment of her was being motivated, at least in part, by him having cheated on her!
She wasn't convinced that this was the case, though. After all, her husband had been struggling for quite some time with a kind of 'erectile dysfunction' the few times he had tried to initiate some sort of sex between them. This caused him to go into long and angry tirades that were always launched against her. He would blame her for this problem. He would tell her that she "wasn't sexy enough", or that she wasn't pretty any more, etc. These sorts of things were designed, of course, to hurt her, and to divert attention from his own failings, and place them all onto her; and they slowly accumulated their effects on her self-esteem---as, no doubt, her husband had intended them to have.
But now, as she laid in bed thinking about what had occurred in the house next door---she knew that she had not been unattractive, or not sexy enough; and that all of that had been the intentional attempt on her husbands part to make himself feel better about himself at HER expense!
The true irony in all of this was how pathetic her husband had always been, what a coward, what a selfish ass hole he had been. She'd been a good mother, and she'd tried very, very hard to be a good wife as well! She suddenly recalled the last time she'd caught sight of her husbands penis---it was a small, mainly shriveled up thing, not much bigger than his thumb. It had just hung there, useless, limp, pathetic, and uninviting. But she'd just had a far, far different experience with a far, far bigger, and undeniably more masculine cock---and it had not been useless, nor limp, nor pathetic; and it had been absolutely amazingly, invitingly, huge! As well as the most beautiful shade of dark, dark chocolate brown; and not the bleached out pale thing that hung between her husbands legs!
In her mind, she replayed the experience she'd had of reaching out to take hold of that massive black cock, and equally huge set of balls that hung heavily down below. As her hand clasped the thick and warm shaft, she hefted it. She also weighed his balls in the other hand, and they too, had a very discernible feeling of mass---quite different from the flimsy thing her husband had; and she had desperately, desperately(!) wanted that deep, deep inside of her pussy!
She'd been treated so very different than she'd been treated by her husband earlier that night! She'd surprised herself by how passionately she'd thrown herself at this neighbor man. Not once in the several hours of incredible sex with him did she think about anything else but that (and certainly never did she have the slightest thought about her husband)! Indeed, she'd felt giddy; something like a teenager having sex for the first time! She hadn't felt anything like that in years and years; and she savored that feeling; a feeling she'd begun to think had perished long ago---for with all the verbal abuse and denigration she'd experienced from her husband, she'd come close to seeing herself the way her husband said she was like!
Such was the power of words. As sounds, word are essentially meaningless, but, once meanings are given to those sounds, they can reach out and touch people with great and lasting effect (for good, as well as for bad). She remembered watching as her mothers next door neighbor had gone down on her pussy, and as she spread her legs apart in order for him to do so, he had said (looking up across her tummy and into her eyes): "I love your pussy." Then he had begun kissing her there, and spreading apart her tender labia with several fingers, and then using his tongue to lick and probe between them; and Cindy's heart had begun to race with incredible excitement! He didn't overlook her clitoris, either. In fact, unlike her husband, he had deliberately concentrated his tongue onto, and along side, of it---something her husband had seem to regard as repulsive!
Cindy had laid back on his bed, and slowly, she closed her eyes and gave herself completely to this fabulous black man, and it thrilled her to give herself so completely to him like that, and for him to take it as she offered it! In fact, she had to be honest and admit that sex with her husband had actually never been anywhere as good as what she had that night! Sex with him had always been about him. It had had little to do with her. But this man, this eager, passionate, interesting black man had been so very different. For him, Cindy was something to be deeply enjoyed and savored. He enjoyed every inch of her, repeatedly, as if she was a rare fine wine---the experience not to be rushed into. Cindy had found herself thinking: My god! So this is the way sex can be!? If that was so, then she wanted it again, and again, and again, and again!
Not until those moments had she fully realized just how sexually starved, and neglected, she had been as a woman; and in those incredible moments, she was neither 'wife' nor 'mother' nor 'daughter', but a woman; and a woman waking up to what she had missed out on for so many, many long years! But that was over now. She knew she would need more of this wonderful medicine---a medicine for melancholy; the best and most effective medicine of all: Sex (and sex with this black man was far, far better than any she had ever known in her entire life!
What was the future of her marriage now? There didn't seem to be much of a future; but then again, for her, there had really never been a future; merely a state of frustration, alternating with moments of anger, and back to frustration (even depression) again. THAT, she realized, was what she would be going back to if she did go back to her husband---the hell of sameness; the hell of frozen, unchanging sameness; the hell of living with a man who barely noticed her any more. That was not what Cindy wanted to go back to. She wanted to be wanted! To be desired! To be pursued; to be lusted after; and that is what she felt in that other man's bed and in his arms, and as he slid that magnificent black cock of his deep, deep inside of her pussy; and filling her with his warm seed, as well as his undeniable desire for her!
He had fucked her like she had never been fucked before, and though her vagina felt slightly sore from his urgent thrusts as he pounded and pounded away inside of her---she'd never felt such enthusiasm directed towards herself as that had been. She smiled to herself in the darkness. She could hardly wait to get that big black cock inside of her pussy again---and again, and again; and even if she did stay with her husband (and it was a possibility), then she'd have to have that other man's cock (a black man's cock, the sort of man that her husband seemed to hate so very much) again! Her husband would never know. Partly because he was so preoccupied with himself, and his work friends (who shared a similar penchant for racist attitudes), that he'd never, in a million years, even consider the possibility that another man (a black man, at that) could be sleeping with, and fucking his wife!
It seemed the perfect revenge, and it was, but it was mainly about reigniting the sexual energy that her husband had allowed to grow cold in her; and the spark for that reigniting had occurred; next door, in a different bed, and with a different (and better) man---a black man! Eventually, Cindy fell asleep. She slept soundly, too.
When woke up the next morning, everyone noticed how different she acted. She smiled a lot. She did all sorts of things to cheer up others. Her daughter found the change in her mothers attitude wonderful. Her mother was behaving a lot like a teenager---and that was a welcome change from her previously gloomy attitude. Whatever the reason for this sudden change in mood, Cindy's mother, and her daughter, liked it!
The End
Even though Cindy had gone to bed well after midnight, she didn't fall asleep right away. In the darkened room she kept replaying in her mind the various sights and sounds that had accompanied her first 'extra-marital' affair; and though it was her first time, she felt little, if any, regrets in having done so.
Her husband and she had been quite miserable for many years leading up to this moment. She'd tried extremely hard to over look her husbands increasingly abusive language towards her, as well as the shocking level of racism that he seemed obsessed by. She'd poured herself into being a good mother for their daughter, and a good employee where she worked; and, in doing so, she could ignore her own domestic unhappiness (at least most of the time). Still, her marriage continued to deteriorate; and her husband became more and more verbally abusive, berating and denigrating her at every chance. There were some really terrible shouting matches between them, where their daughter had overheard. Then, which might have been the final straw, politics is what, ironically, broke the camels back, so to speak; though it hadn't been until Cindy had flown to Florida to be away from her husband for a while, as well as spending time with her daughter, who was living with Cindy's mother, that she fully realized that she had come to the end of her desire to keep trying to be the 'good wife' for a (sadly) bad husband.
She'd known the black man that had lived next door to her mother for quite some time. In fact, in a way, he'd become a friend of the family through his checking in on her mother from time to time to make sure she was okay. Of course, because he was black, her husband had had nothing good to say about him; and, interestingly enough, but her husbands constant denigration of blacks had a curious effect on Cindy: The more her husband railed against blacks, the more she found herself curiously attracted to them, and especially black men.
Whenever she was down there seeing her mother (and her daughter), it seemed as if she found herself drawn to this friendly, out-going black neighbor man. She did nothing about it, of course, but, somewhere in the back of her mind, a tiny voice began to speak, and the last visit she'd made there, she'd found herself wanting to fuck him; and the very thought of that had excited her tremendously. She hadn't felt like that in a very long time, and she enjoyed the way it made her feel almost young again!
Still, she didn't act on the thought, but the thought itself didn't go away. If anything, it slowly, but surely, increased over time! Of course, she keep such thoughts to herself. How would her daughter think of her, she wondered, if she fucked some other man besides her father? Would she see her as a 'whore', a 'slut?' Cindy had never cheated on her husband, though she had often wondered if his denigrating and verbally abusive treatment of her was being motivated, at least in part, by him having cheated on her!
She wasn't convinced that this was the case, though. After all, her husband had been struggling for quite some time with a kind of 'erectile dysfunction' the few times he had tried to initiate some sort of sex between them. This caused him to go into long and angry tirades that were always launched against her. He would blame her for this problem. He would tell her that she "wasn't sexy enough", or that she wasn't pretty any more, etc. These sorts of things were designed, of course, to hurt her, and to divert attention from his own failings, and place them all onto her; and they slowly accumulated their effects on her self-esteem---as, no doubt, her husband had intended them to have.
But now, as she laid in bed thinking about what had occurred in the house next door---she knew that she had not been unattractive, or not sexy enough; and that all of that had been the intentional attempt on her husbands part to make himself feel better about himself at HER expense!
The true irony in all of this was how pathetic her husband had always been, what a coward, what a selfish ass hole he had been. She'd been a good mother, and she'd tried very, very hard to be a good wife as well! She suddenly recalled the last time she'd caught sight of her husbands penis---it was a small, mainly shriveled up thing, not much bigger than his thumb. It had just hung there, useless, limp, pathetic, and uninviting. But she'd just had a far, far different experience with a far, far bigger, and undeniably more masculine cock---and it had not been useless, nor limp, nor pathetic; and it had been absolutely amazingly, invitingly, huge! As well as the most beautiful shade of dark, dark chocolate brown; and not the bleached out pale thing that hung between her husbands legs!
In her mind, she replayed the experience she'd had of reaching out to take hold of that massive black cock, and equally huge set of balls that hung heavily down below. As her hand clasped the thick and warm shaft, she hefted it. She also weighed his balls in the other hand, and they too, had a very discernible feeling of mass---quite different from the flimsy thing her husband had; and she had desperately, desperately(!) wanted that deep, deep inside of her pussy!
She'd been treated so very different than she'd been treated by her husband earlier that night! She'd surprised herself by how passionately she'd thrown herself at this neighbor man. Not once in the several hours of incredible sex with him did she think about anything else but that (and certainly never did she have the slightest thought about her husband)! Indeed, she'd felt giddy; something like a teenager having sex for the first time! She hadn't felt anything like that in years and years; and she savored that feeling; a feeling she'd begun to think had perished long ago---for with all the verbal abuse and denigration she'd experienced from her husband, she'd come close to seeing herself the way her husband said she was like!
Such was the power of words. As sounds, word are essentially meaningless, but, once meanings are given to those sounds, they can reach out and touch people with great and lasting effect (for good, as well as for bad). She remembered watching as her mothers next door neighbor had gone down on her pussy, and as she spread her legs apart in order for him to do so, he had said (looking up across her tummy and into her eyes): "I love your pussy." Then he had begun kissing her there, and spreading apart her tender labia with several fingers, and then using his tongue to lick and probe between them; and Cindy's heart had begun to race with incredible excitement! He didn't overlook her clitoris, either. In fact, unlike her husband, he had deliberately concentrated his tongue onto, and along side, of it---something her husband had seem to regard as repulsive!
Cindy had laid back on his bed, and slowly, she closed her eyes and gave herself completely to this fabulous black man, and it thrilled her to give herself so completely to him like that, and for him to take it as she offered it! In fact, she had to be honest and admit that sex with her husband had actually never been anywhere as good as what she had that night! Sex with him had always been about him. It had had little to do with her. But this man, this eager, passionate, interesting black man had been so very different. For him, Cindy was something to be deeply enjoyed and savored. He enjoyed every inch of her, repeatedly, as if she was a rare fine wine---the experience not to be rushed into. Cindy had found herself thinking: My god! So this is the way sex can be!? If that was so, then she wanted it again, and again, and again, and again!
Not until those moments had she fully realized just how sexually starved, and neglected, she had been as a woman; and in those incredible moments, she was neither 'wife' nor 'mother' nor 'daughter', but a woman; and a woman waking up to what she had missed out on for so many, many long years! But that was over now. She knew she would need more of this wonderful medicine---a medicine for melancholy; the best and most effective medicine of all: Sex (and sex with this black man was far, far better than any she had ever known in her entire life!
What was the future of her marriage now? There didn't seem to be much of a future; but then again, for her, there had really never been a future; merely a state of frustration, alternating with moments of anger, and back to frustration (even depression) again. THAT, she realized, was what she would be going back to if she did go back to her husband---the hell of sameness; the hell of frozen, unchanging sameness; the hell of living with a man who barely noticed her any more. That was not what Cindy wanted to go back to. She wanted to be wanted! To be desired! To be pursued; to be lusted after; and that is what she felt in that other man's bed and in his arms, and as he slid that magnificent black cock of his deep, deep inside of her pussy; and filling her with his warm seed, as well as his undeniable desire for her!
He had fucked her like she had never been fucked before, and though her vagina felt slightly sore from his urgent thrusts as he pounded and pounded away inside of her---she'd never felt such enthusiasm directed towards herself as that had been. She smiled to herself in the darkness. She could hardly wait to get that big black cock inside of her pussy again---and again, and again; and even if she did stay with her husband (and it was a possibility), then she'd have to have that other man's cock (a black man's cock, the sort of man that her husband seemed to hate so very much) again! Her husband would never know. Partly because he was so preoccupied with himself, and his work friends (who shared a similar penchant for racist attitudes), that he'd never, in a million years, even consider the possibility that another man (a black man, at that) could be sleeping with, and fucking his wife!
It seemed the perfect revenge, and it was, but it was mainly about reigniting the sexual energy that her husband had allowed to grow cold in her; and the spark for that reigniting had occurred; next door, in a different bed, and with a different (and better) man---a black man! Eventually, Cindy fell asleep. She slept soundly, too.
When woke up the next morning, everyone noticed how different she acted. She smiled a lot. She did all sorts of things to cheer up others. Her daughter found the change in her mothers attitude wonderful. Her mother was behaving a lot like a teenager---and that was a welcome change from her previously gloomy attitude. Whatever the reason for this sudden change in mood, Cindy's mother, and her daughter, liked it!
The End
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