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‘Entry 38
First off, I want to give all your lovelies your flowers for the amazing recommendations. There would not have been a Paris trip without all your messages.
You all recommended Paris like it was some magical land of sex and fucking all day, and boy, did you undersell it.
I visited the Nude Gallery yesterday, and as you all expected, I had a thrilling experience there. I experienced something I’d never experienced before, and it was unimaginable. I think I’ll just go ahead and rename Paris the City of Unexpected Sexual Adventures.
Okay, I really need to set the scene.
So, I’m all dressed up for the Nude Gallery exhibition, which is a very, very exclusive spot. Very hush, hush too. The attendees had to be stark naked, so I took off all my clothes at the door.
It’s all those “bodies as art” exhibits that’s supposed to make you feel empowered or something, but mostly it just made me feel a little chilly and very aware of my 35-year-old boobs.
But the artworks there are amazing. Most of them are very sexually suggestive and explicit, but they were wonderful. The artists there are talented, and I’m talking about more than just painting.
Wink, wink.
As I was trying to get comfortable in my skin and adjust to seeing balls and dicks swinging around, I met her.
Let us call her Chérie for the sake of anonymity, of course.
Chérie is gorgeous, and no one has ever made me doubt my sexuality as much as she does. She’s everything you could want in a woman, and she had eyes on me.
We started talking about art (as you do), and before I knew it, she was leading me upstairs to her private studio. (Yes, this sounds like the setup to a steamy novel, but bear with me.)
Chérie is one of the artists for the exhibition, and she’s very talented. She creates these gorgeous erotic arts that focus on women’s bodies. And she used bodies to create said art.
Crazy, right?
She asked me if I wanted to be part of her latest masterpiece, and since I’ve never been one to turn down a good adventure (or a great orgasm), I said, “Why the hell not?”
So, there I was, standing in the middle of her studio, dipping my fingers into bowls of paint while she explained that we were about to create art with our bodies.
As in, we were going to cover ourselves in paint, roll around on a canvas, and make love while smearing every inch of our skin onto that blank white surface. I know, I know– what is my life?
The thought alone, just writing it, is making me completely horny with need. I wish I could go back to that moment and relish all the times she sucked my clit, finger fucked me, or when she fucked me with a strap-on in the shower.
I was seeing fireworks, y’all.
I was a bit nervous starting out, I can’t lie. But when Chérie touched me, I knew this was meant to be. I’ve had sex in some pretty wild places (thanks to all your crazy suggestions), but this? This was something else.
I wished I’d explored the other gender for a long time. It was simply life-changing. I still can’t get the feeling of scissoring out of my head. Whoever came up with that is a genius!
We painted for what felt like hours, fucking in every corner of her studio, leaving our juices everywhere until we were completely burnt out.
By the time we were done, I was covered head to toe in streaks of paint, and we had created this absolute masterpiece on the canvas beneath us.
To all of you out there who are telling me to
“explore more” and “push my boundaries,” you’ve created a monster. But it’s the best kind of monster–one that’s living her best life, one sexual adventure at a time.
Until next time, my lovelies. Stay wild, stay curious, and always remember: life’s too short to not cover yourself in paint and have sex on a canvas.
With love (and a whole lot of paint),
Slutty Wife Anonymous.’
The last couple of days have been fun and cute, but I’d woken up with a deep ache in my chest that I couldn’t quite shake off.
Paul and Dawn had called to speak to me, and I realized how much was at stake if any of my sexcapades were revealed to the public. I could lose Dawn, my baby girl, forever.
That was the last bağcılar escort thing I wanted, and so I decided to reel it in, maybe even for a little bit. Me and the girls would be traveling back home tomorrow or the day after, and I was willing to not get into any sexual adventure, at least till I got back home.
That was doable, right? It was.
It’s not like I can’t control myself. I wasn’t a sex freak yet, and I could totally decide not to fuck anybody and stick to that decision.
Easy, peasy.
Still, I couldn’t shake the guilt off. Maybe I needed to do something extra. Something different. Going to confession, perhaps?
The villa we stayed at was very close to a Catholic Church, and so we heard the bells ringing on some days and mass being said. I had catholic roots and could still remember some of the prayers, too. I could go there for confession.
Okay, maybe that was the silliest idea I’ve gotten since I came to Paris. I hadn’t been in a church in years, and I was pretty sure I would catch on fire as soon as I passed the entrance. I’ve sinned a lot recently.
But confession could be a fresh start… A voice in my head urged.
True, confession could be that fresh start I needed. And whereas, I had nothing else to do with my time today. That could be a good way to pass the time.
So I quickly got dressed and made my way to the old cathedral close by. I stared at the wooden doors as I swallowed. Was this really a good idea?
A part of me felt like revealing everything I’ve done to someone spiritual would give me a bit of a reprieve, but another part was telling me not to do it.
But the weight of everything that I’d done even before Paris was starting to suffocate me. I couldn’t go two hours without my fingers trailing down to my clit to touch myself.
My brain was filled with flashes of paint-covered bodies, blindfolded orgies, and being fucked with a strap-on dildo.
And look, I’m not saying I regret any of it. At all. But there’s only so much guilt I can shove into the back of my mind before it starts leaking out, making me question everything.
So, naturally, what’s a girl to do when she’s in Paris, knee-deep in sin and feeling just a tad guilty? Confess, obviously. I mean, it’s basically the Catholic capital of the world, right? They’ve heard it all. Surely, my little escapades wouldn’t surprise anyone here.
I took in a deep breath as I walked into the church. The strong smell of incense hit me straight in the face, and I instantly felt a bit ill. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the smell of incense.
I found the confessional booth and made my way inside. It was even tinier than I’d remembered because the last time I’d been to confession was when I was a teenager.
Slipped inside, shut the little door behind me, and sat down. My heart was practically racing out of my chest.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” I began, the familiar words pouring out of my lips as if I did this every other day.
The priest’s voice sounded hot and sexy from the other end. “What’s on your mind, child?”
I cleared my throat. “Um, I haven’t been a good child.”
I didn’t know how to reveal to a man who’d barely been with a woman everything I’d done for the past month. It was embarrassing, and now I was realizing how much of a bad idea this was.
“What have you done, child?”
And so I told him. I told him some parts like fucking Grayson and enjoying it, making love with the artist, and also letting a twenty-five-year-old dominate me. I left out all the other racy bits because I really didn’t want to be judged.
When I was done, the priest didn’t say a word, which made me panic slightly. He was a little bit too quiet. So, I paused, waiting for the judgment, for him to tell me that I was doomed to hell or something. But instead, his voice came back, and he asked:
“Did it bring you pleasure?”
That was the last thing I expected him to ask, but I answered anyway.
“Yes, father. It really did.”
“Would you mind giving me details?”
I don’t remember the priest asking for details when I went to confession as a child, but I did what bahçelievler escort I was told. Mostly because the priest’s voice was so goddamn sexy, and I couldn’t help but imagine what he looked like.
I shook the thoughts away from my head. It was thoughts like this that led me to come for confession, and I needed to get rid of them.
“Do you regret it?” The priest’s smooth voice came from the other end.
“No, I don’t. I don’t regret it at all.”
“That’s tricky then,” the priest’s voice came out in a gasp this time, breathless than usual.
“Yeah, it is,” I agreed with a frown.
As we talked for a little bit, I began to realize what was going on on the other side of the confessional. The priest was touching himself, probably giving himself a handjob as he spoke to me.
Fucking hell.
His breath grew heavier as I heard his hand moving up and down his length. Maybe I could help get him off. That could be my act of penance. I was helping God’s servant finish, or maybe, I was just a horny slut myself.
I slipped out of my own side of the booth and into his small place, which forced us close.
“What are you doing here?” the priest gasped, his big cock in his hand. I could see signs of precum at the tip of his dick, and I couldn’t wait to have him in my mouth.
“I came to help you,” I whispered, getting on my knees.
“No, you shouldn’t be here,” he shook his head.
For someone who was a priest and was so handsome, he was very sexually frustrated.
“I’m going to help you.”
“No,” he said again, but he was doing nothing to push me away, which meant he truly wanted it.
He held my hair up for me as my mouth covered his cock, and he let out a gasp of relief. I moved my head up and down his length taking him all in as I sucked and played with his balls.
The priest tried to stifle his moans as I went faster and faster, gagging on his cock multiple times before he came into my mouth. I swallowed him all up as he grabbed me, rough yet desperate, like a man who hadn’t touched a woman in years.
He pulled me onto his lap until I was straddling him, his lips on mine. We kissed for a bit as he unbuttoned my shirt, then he took one nipple into his mouth, groaning as he sucked it sore.
I moaned at the feeling.
Fuck, I was supposed to be on my best behavior, and here I was, about to fuck a priest.
“I don’t think this is right,” I moaned out loud.
The priest snapped his eyes open, realization dawning on his features. “You’re right. This is against God and the church.”
I was a little bit disappointed as I got to my feet, but he pulled me down to him again, all his vows to God and the church forgotten.
I rode on his cock, feeling it grind against my pussy through my panties. God, why does this forbidden cock feel so good? And he wasn’t even in me yet, but my entire body was on fire.
I needed him inside me now.
He pushed one hand underneath me as he rubbed my clit in rough, circular motions. Everything he was doing was hurried, and it made me even wetter.
“You came here to seduce a priest,” he said in my ear, dragging his lips along my neck and making me moan.
“I didn’t,” I moaned, throwing my head back.
“Then why did you come here in a short skirt and see-through top?” He pinched my clit as he spoke, making me yelp.
Okay, he was right. I hadn’t even paid attention to what I was wearing when I left the villa. I didn’t think it mattered that much, but maybe I’d actually dressed to seduce the priest. Well, he had fallen for it.
“I didn’t know,” I confessed, shuddering.
“I think you did!”
“Maybe I did,” I said, my eyes meeting his. “Maybe I wanted this to happen. Maybe I wanted to feel a big cock inside me as you fuck me with your vestment on.”
“Fuck! You’re so hot!” He moaned into my mouth.
He leaned in and kissed me, and I dug my hands into his hair and enjoyed the kiss. His lips were softer than I expected, and they encircled mine, his tongue forcing dominance in my mouth.
“Do you want me to beg you to fuck me with your cock or finger?” I asked him.
“Maybe.”
“Then şirinevler escort please, I want your cock, father. I want your big hard cock stretching me out. I’ve been a naughty child, and I need your cock.”
He pushed a finger inside me as I moaned loudly, not caring if someone heard us.
“Keep telling me how much you want my cock and finger, and you’ll keep getting rewarded,” he growled.
“I want your cock and finger so badly, father. I want you to fuck me so hard that I make a mess of this confessional.”
He ground his hips into me, rubbing himself harder against me as he used his free hand to claim my breast.
“I want to feel your tight little pussy.”
“You’ll love it, father,” I moaned.
“But it won’t be for long. I have vowed, so I’ll just put the tip,” he said, pushing my panties to the side.
“Just the tip then,” I swallowed. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Promise you won’t be greedy and take me all in?”
“I won’t, father.”
I couldn’t guarantee that because his touch was sending fire throughout my skin. I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t want to sit down forcefully on his cock and take him all in, but I was going to try. This was my moment to practice self-control.
He pressed the tip of his cock inside me, holding me up so he didn’t fully sink in.
“I want just a taste,” he swallowed.
I nodded.
When the head of his cock had disappeared in me, he let out a gasp, and so did I. He was so big, and he was stretching me out so badly that I wanted more of him. I wanted him to completely sink into me and fuck me senseless.
We stood frozen as only his tip was in me for a bit. I tried to resist the urge to wriggle down and take in more of him.
“Okay,” he swallowed after a couple of seconds. “Maybe a bit more.”
Then he pushed an inch further into me, and I let out a guttural moan.
“Fuck, father! You feel so good, and I want all of you!”
“Patience, child,” he murmured in my ear.
Again, we were in that position for a bit until he kept sinking in slower and slower until his cock was completely in my pussy.
He was so big that my tight pussy kept squeezing his cock. He closed his eyes at intervals as he tried not to pound in and out of me.
Then, unable to take it anymore, I moved my hips slightly, up and down his length as it dragged within me. That felt so good, and the priest moaned too.
“You have to stop that, child,” he warned.
“But I want to feel you inside me,” I whined.
“I’m inside you,” he murmured.
Again, I moved the tiniest bit, and he spanked my ass.
“You’re very stubborn, child.”
The feel of his palm connecting with my bare buttocks sent a thrill all over my body as my clit ached.
I swallowed the pain, looking for a way to make this beneficial for both of us.
“Then fuck me, but you can come on my ass. That way, it won’t count.”
I was hoping this would work, but the priest looked at me skeptically.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded quickly. “Everyone does it.”
He sucked in a breath. “Alright then.”
Getting the stamp of approval, I couldn’t wait any longer as I began to bounce in and out of him. With each bounce, his big cock hit me square in the stomach, and I wanted more of him.
“God, you’re so fucking big. You’re stretching out my pussy.”
With that, he turned me around, so I was pressed against the walls of the confessional booth as he rammed himself into me.
I moaned in surprise as he kept pounding in and out of me, burying himself in my pussy.
“Fuck me harder!” I moaned.
I had no idea how much harder I could take because I was slowly falling apart, but I wanted as much as possible.
But he fucked me deeper, the confessional booth shaking now from both our weights pressed on it. I’m sure someone looking from the outside would definitely know what was going on inside.
I tightened around him and was about to come when he suddenly pulled out of me, dropped me down, and turned me around, and then he lifted my skirt and pushed his dick into my ass without as much as a warning or lubrication.
I screamed at the pain, which was instantly followed by pleasure as he fucked my asshole, going in and out violently. He thrust for a couple of seconds before we both came violently.
He gave a few last thrusts, milking every last throb out of my climax.
“Go forth and sin no more,” the priest said, kissing the top of my head.
“Thank you, Father,” I murmured, completely spent.
So much for a temptation-free day.
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