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I walk into the hotel without hesitation, as though I belong here.*Which, in a sense, I do. I?m not a frequent visitor, but have been here often enough that there?s a sense of familiarity and comfort.There?s also a sense of excitement and nervousness.*Butterflies flutter in my stomach, not so much due to guilt or shame, but rather because I'm not entirely sure what the evening will bring.*You see, I?m here with a monomaniacal purpose. I just want, no, desperately need to get laid, by a complete stranger.The need in me is urgent and intense.*I?m already wet just walking into the lobby.*For the past two months, I've kept my inner slut locked away, waiting patiently for a time to free her from her cage. The pressure has steadily built until I'm almost ready to explode. Finally, circumstances have allowed me to escape into my hidden, secret, depraved world, and I intend to take every advantage.I don?t just need to get laid, I need to be fucked - properly fucked. Hard, aggressive, rough sex with a man who knows what he wants and isn?t afraid to take it.*A man confident in his sexual prowess, but not so cocky and selfish that he doesn?t take care of me.But intense sex alone won't satisfy my ravenous appetite. Being a wanton slut, defying convention, cheating - these Konyaaltı Escort become all-consuming and heighten the sexual intensity. I crave the instant rush that only the forbidden can provide. It is only here that I can truly be myself.I?ve altered my look for the occasion.*I've traded in my suburban soccer mom for a mash-up of MILF, cougar, and slut.* My hair is slightly tousled. I've applied a touch too much makeup, and unbuttoned my blouse a bit lower than convention would dictate, offering a glimpse of my lacy bra and the curve of my breast. My skirt is a few inches too short, showing off my long, toned legs encased in dark sheer stockings that made me feel so sexy, so naughty, so aroused, as I languidly but lovingly pulled them up while sitting on the edge of my marital bed.*It?s the facial expression that completes the look.*My lusty eyes flash a come-hither invitation.* Skilled men on the hunt can see it from across the room.*It?s my secret weapon.Tonight, I wear my wedding ring.*Sometimes I leave it at home, but experience teaches that the odds are better this way.* After some thought, it makes sense -* no strings., the allure of the forbidden.*After all, few things are as enticing as another man?s wife.I?ve traveled forty-five Escort Konyaaltı minutes to this place where no one will know me. That?s why I chose this venue, discretion plus a steady stream of professional men far enough from their own homes (and perhaps wives) to serve as prey to this huntress.The lounge is only sparsely occupied, and I feel a surge of disappointment that only serves to increase my arousal, my desperation.*My nerves are jangled, I'm like a junkie looking for her next fix.*My nipples already ache, and a wet spot is slowly spreading across the front of my lacy thong.They say there?s nothing like the first time.*It remains seared into my memory.*How I almost chickened out, multiple times.*How I must have been visibly trembling.*How guilty I felt, and yet how driven.*And when that glorious moment came when an anonymous cock split my cunt lips and buried itself deep inside me, how intense was my orgasm and how complete I felt.I sit at the bar and order a drink to ease my nerves. The first sip hits my stomach and I immediately feel suffused with warmth.*I scan the bar, and the room, populated by only a few small groups of men, and two ordinary looking women.*My spirits sink.*Opportunities to play this game don?t come Konyaaltı Escort Bayan along that often.*I ache for the chance to indulge my inner slut, to spread my legs and let a stranger violate me and the sanctity of my vows. I need to become a harlot for a night, to indulge my alter ego, to become a feral animal, guided only by my lust.I tell myself to be patient, that it is still early, and that I have all night. I'm unusually anxious, perhaps because it's been so long since I've been able to sneak away. I order another drink. The buzz feels good. My skin is flushed, my pupils dilated. My pheromones must be detectible from across the room.The evening wears on.*I?m bored out of my mind now, but I don?t want another drink if I?m to drive home.*I suck on the ice at the bottom of my glass as the frustration threatens to consume me.I am desperate, nearly crying so insane is my need.*It always seems to happen when you least expect it, when you're just about to give up. I smell him first, then feel his breath.*He?s standing close, far too close for polite company, so close that*I can feel his energy. There can be no doubt he is my kindred spirit, both of us looking for danger. *This is really going to happen.*I begin to tremble and wonder if he notices.We engage in useless, banal chit-chat, the necessary preamble to this charade.*But I?m too keyed up, and steer the conversation in its obvious direction with an urgency that betrays my intention.*It?s probably not necessary; it seems clear that he is the sort of man who can smell my desire.*