Sometimes I'm a Cunt

Sometimes I'm a cunt.

-Sometimes I'm a cunt. We were married two months when Cheryl was caught stealing from her boss. She worked in an insurance office. It was something to do with premiums. People came in, paid cash, left with a smile, but it turns out Cheryl didn't always bank the money like she was supposed to. Sometimes some of it went into her purse instead. You wouldn't think she was the type. She's quiet, thinks a lot, too much maybe. A nice woman. I guess I loved her.

I had a call from her boss. I had to go and see him. He laid it all out for me and made me feel like an asshole. It was obvious he thought I was involved somehow. I could see the way he was looking at me. Turns out she'd been doing it for months. He wasn't sure how long exactly, he was still trying to make sense of the mess she'd made, trying to figure out who was actually covered by the insurance they thought they'd paid and who wasn't. He said his concern was people driving around uninsured, if any of them had an accident...

He sat behind his desk looking at me. "I never would have thought it," he said. I felt about an inch tall. He said he might have to call the Police and I didn't know what to say.

"-You haven't noticed her buying new things, spending a lot of money?" He was back to thinking I must be blind or stupid or involved somehow.

I remember shaking my head, we barely had enough money to get through each week.

Driving home it was all swirling around in my head. Complicated. I didn't like how Mr Jarvis had made me feel like an idiot for not knowing what my own wife was doing. I didn't like his talk of getting the Police involved. I'd think of Cheryl and couldn't understand how she'd do something like that. And what had she spent the money on? Then I'd think of money, how we didn't have any, fuck all worth talking about. We were both working but it was never enough. -A couple of grand, as near as gaziantep rus escort he could figure it. My new wife had ripped off her boss to the tune of two grand. Maybe if I could find some money, borrow it, pay it back, I could get us out of the shit. I felt responsible. It was Cheryl's fault, but I felt responsible. By the time I got home I guess I was feeling pretty pissed off as well.

Cheryl was still sitting at the kitchen table where I'd left her. She knew where I'd been. The breakfast dishes were still in the sink, a pile of laundry waited to be loaded in the machine. She hadn't moved. Her hair was untidy. I remember she'd been playing with a tissue, tearing pieces off.

-For fucks sake. What did we say? I don't remember. Words. I guess I told her what Jarvis had said. Cheryl was crying again. Her eyes were red when she looked at me. She got up to do something and I guess I snapped. Maybe it was anger, maybe frustration, maybe it was because Jarvis had made me feel like an idiot. Whatever.

I said something dumb, spur of the moment, that I remember, something like, well, seeing as you're already crying...

Somehow I grabbed Cheryl, spun her around, bent her over. Didn't even think about it, spun her around and spanked her. I don't know how many times, eight or ten hard swats on her ass. -She didn't make a sound, not anything. Sometimes I wish she had, but it was almost as if she expected it.

Eight or ten spanks, that was all, but it was enough to make me hard.

So what did I do then? I sent her upstairs.

My hands were shaking, my cock was hard, and my head was fucking spinning. I was breathing fast, I remember that, breathing fast, hands shaking, cock straining, angry, frustrated, maybe shocked at myself as well.

I sat down but I couldn't think straight, all I could think about was the moment I bent Cheryl over, the moment I spanked her, the sound it made, the way it felt.

My cock stayed hard. I smoked a couple of cigarettes, maybe five, sitting there thinking, trying to figure it all out. The Police, Jarvis, no money, Cheryl, me, what it all meant for our future together. All kinds of shit just going round and round, and all the time my cock was straining in my jeans because of what I'd just done. I guess it was about then I knew I wanted to do it again, wanted to experience it again.

Like I said, sometimes I'm a cunt.

I went upstairs, kind of in a daze. Cheryl was sitting on our bed, unhappy, her hair in her eyes. I took her hand and motioned for her to stand then I sat down and pulled her over my lap. She didn't say anything, didn't protest, maybe that was what turned me on so much.

I held her with my left hand and spanked her with my right. Longer this time, it wasn't spur of the moment like before. I didn't count how many. I was getting off on it. I lifted up her skirt so I could do it properly. White panties. Her ass shook but she didn't make a sound. It lasted maybe five minutes, maybe less, hard spanks, not too fast.

She didn't look at me when it was over. I left her in the bedroom and I went downstairs and made myself cum. I beat off in the kitchen, had to, my cock was going to explode any second. It didn't take much, a few eager strokes. I've never cum so hard in my life.

I sat in the kitchen maybe an hour, smoking, drinking coffee, thinking, worrying, and getting hard all over again.

Cheryl was lying face down on the bed next time I went upstairs. Face down made it easy for me, I didn't have to look at her face, and maybe see the hurt there.

I sat beside her looking at the way her skirt showed the shape of her ass. I spanked her again a couple of times but now I squeezed her ass as well, feeling her up, letting my hand wander. I took my time lifting her skirt, moved it neatly out the way. The bottoms of her cheeks were a little pink from the last time. I spanked her a few more times and explored her ass through her panties. All the time she didn't move or say a word.

-I told her to take her panties down for me. I guess I wanted to see if she would. She did, like she'd been waiting for me to say it, just reached back and eased them down. I took them off all the way, cunt that I am.

A bare ass spanking. My hand rose and fell, rose and fell, one cheek, then the other. Sometimes I paused, breathing fast, to feel her up again. I put my finger tip on her asshole. I reached between her legs to touch her pussy. I pulled her cheeks apart to look at her then spanked her again. The sound was loud like a slap, Cheryl's ass shook, and my cock kept getting harder.

I turned her onto her back, it seemed like I could do anything. I knelt beside her and held up her legs and spanked her that way, spanking her pussy too, then slipping a finger inside her, rubbing her pussy, exploring it then spanking it again. Was she crying? I don't know. She wasn't making any noise. I put a finger in her asshole and my thumb in her pussy and fucked her with them both. Sometime later she was on her stomach again and I was kneeling astride her legs moving my cock over her ass then letting it lie between her ass cheeks. Moving up and down her ass, letting my balls rub up against her.

I didn't fuck her. I'm a cunt sometimes, remember? I masturbated while I knelt over her, feeling her ass, pulling her cheeks apart. It was the second biggest load of cum of my life. It went everywhere, all across her cheeks, down in the crack of her ass. I rubbed it in, rubbed it all in, spread it around, mixed it with the wetness between her legs.

What happened next? I went downstairs and washed the dishes and loaded the clothes in the washing machine. Jarvis never called the Police. I begged and borrowed the two grand. I never spanked Cheryl again, but I might, one day, just for the hell of it. Like I said, sometimes I'm a cunt.