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The night club was packed. Three-day weekends always brought out good crowds of locals and visitors. There was a dance floor to the right and large rectangular bar to the left and a small bar in the back the would eventually become my favorite spot over the years before Caliente Resort opened in 2004. We were probably at the club forty-five minutes before a drop-dead gorgeous fifty-year-old woman approached. "So, what do ya got in there?" She pointed at my jeans. "Oh, great, we can show here." I gleefully realized, unsnapping and unzipping my pants. My cock fell out of the opening and she politely reached for it, tossing it around in her hand and probably thinking about what she was gonna do it. I was still a tad on the naive side and extremely shy and introverted. She broke me of that quickly. As I flirted and she seduced, I wound up completely naked on the dance floor with her. She whispered, "I'm older than your mother."My cock got instantly hard. "What do I do now?" Follow me"She. I was getting excited as I positioned myself. This was to be my first real fuck for me for a few months, and one I was looking forward to. Before our falling out, Bill would fuck me and cum and that would be that. I rarely got to cum myself. Often, I would masturbate afterwards with his cum leaking out of me to have an orgasm.Jim was ready and I had these butterflies in my tummy. He was to be the first man to fuck me since my marriage to Bill. My nipples were hard with the excitement I was feeling.“Ready?” he asked.“Willing and able,” I replied as I pulled my legs back until my knees were on my shoulders.I was completely exposed and ready for him. I was so excited and knowing full well what was about to happen. I was about to commit adultery.I watched as Jim held his cock in his hand and looked down as he put his cock against the lips of my vagina, then paused as he looked up at me and smiled. We both knew what was going to happen, we had been there and done this many times, but to.
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The other didn't use her name. He only called her bitch, or whore, or other words that hurt as much as blows, cuts and burns did. She had lost one nipple to the other, the Knife, as he called himself. He had pulled her hair out in rage, spittle flying in her face from his screams and threats. He had lost himself to that fury, his fists flying in blows that broke bones and tore flesh.She had thought that she would die that day and had faced disappointment greater than anything she had ever felt when she hadn't. She had tried to push him into killing her that day, had tried to fuel the rage that the knife brought despite the immense amount of pain. She just wanted it over, the battle of wills had been won, she had been defeated. But he had left her, returning later, once more in control of himself, to wash her wounds with care and kind words that only made losing worse.She looked at her captor dully now, not caring what he thought or what he wanted, only remembering in a way that was.

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