Sitting here with a load of Shane's cum on my belly and anot..

Sitting here with a load of Shane's cum on my belly and another still slick in my pussy, I'll be honest. It's not just the sex...though, that has suddenly become incredible in the best of ways, but I can't get enough of Shane and his friends. They're all in their 20s and 30s, and I'm older, as in 58, so it's quite the swing. But I've been invited into their group of about 20 people—talking with them, laughing, jeeps kicking up mud. What drives me wild is the mental buzz, knowing they know Shane fucking me raw, pumping his cum into me every chance he gets. That thought twists my head and makes my pussy drip, a hot, slick drool that soaks my shorts and slides down my thigh because I never wear panties. And Shane ensures they know I'm his now, not my husband's. They all know Scott. They have to work with him now and then. It's such a massive power shift, Shane, taking me from Scott. It makes me want to drop to my knees and suck the cum straight out of Shane's balls just thinking about it.

Shane's not shy about it. He pulls me onto his lap in front of them; his hands are all over me, sliding over my hips and my thighs, making sure everyone knows I am his. Claiming me while they watch. I can't get enough of how he kisses me in front of Shane's buddies, as well as knowing Scott is my husband. It makes my pussy throb, wet and messy, because they know Shane's dick owns me now. Their smirks, their glances, it's like they're picturing him pounding me, and my brain lights up with it, my clit so hard I can barely sit still. The idea that they're thinking of Scott knowing I've traded him for Shane's cock, sends a jolt through me, my juices dripping, my body begging for more.

We slip away sometimes, and they know why. Last time, Shane bent me over in a back room, his cock stretching me in amazing ways. I love the way Shane never asks if he can cum inside of me, he just does, and when Shane came this time, his dick pumped his jizz in me so deep it was like he was marking my pussy as his, taking it away from Scott. Walking back, my pussy still stretched and messy from his load leaking inside me, I catch their looks. That twisted, electric rush hits—knowing they're imagining Shane's dick inside of me, his sperm claiming me. I always wonder what they think about me being married to a man they know, and how Shane is taking me from him. I wish someone would bring it up. I would probably cum from the mental image of their judgment, their envy, making me so wet it's almost unbearable. Still, I love how Shane's hand stays on me when we talk with his friends. His grip is saying, "She's mine," and it fuels my twisted kinks, making me want to worship his cock, and drain him dry right there.

The other night, Shane's arm was around me, his fingers brushing my thigh in front of them all, and one of his friends—Scott's coworker—muttered, "Shane's the luckiest bastard, having you." Just hearing that made my heart beat fast, my pussy clenched, and I swear I could've cum from the words alone. It's like they have accepted that I belong with Shane. We are a perfect fit. It's hard to write this thinking about that because my mind gets lost in the filthy thrill of belonging to him, of choosing his cock over my husband's. 2025 has been a fantastic year for me...I hope it only gets better!