CHEATING I INTERRACIAL I CRUSH I SUBMISSIVE
Kendra’s Indiscretions: The Whores Night Out — Part 1
Whoring is not just a kink to her but a necessity. Something she has to do just to survive.
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Kendra allowed the whore to take the lead only when she was far away from her suburban life, safe from the curious eyes of people she knew. It was the only way it could work. The whore understood that and was prepared to wait for her turn. But not too long. Never too long.
As wife and mother, she had to keep the whore tucked deep inside her. It wasn’t an easy thing to do since the whore was her other half. The dark half. Never far away, she crawled under Kendra’s skin, eager to get out.
The whore came to be when Kendra was a teenager, at the time of her sexual awakening. First, Kendra tried to ignore her. It didn’t work. Next, she tried to tame her. When that also failed, she tried to destroy her with drugs, medicines, yoga, and meditation.
All these attempts were futile and just made things worse. The whore just laughed inside and kept resurfacing at the most inappropriate moments. During that time, Kendra’s stubborn refusal to acknowledge her existence utterly destroyed all of her relationships with men.
After many years, Kendra finally accepted that there was no other solution but to make peace with her. So in the end, Kendra and the whore had a long inner talk that went on for days until an agreement was reached. They won’t intrude and mess with each other’s desires and ambitions. Each will have its own time to play and live, as circumstances allow.
And it worked fine for a long time. Kendra had her ordinary life and her boyfriends, and the whore had her sexual perversions and affairs. Kendra finally understood that they complemented each other perfectly.
Although one of them was always dominant, the other didn’t have to be banished from consciousness for the time being. Each was a witness to the other’s dealings and experiences and helped the other in their own way. What one half lacked, the other delivered. Ying and Yang till the end, in the most literary way.
Kendra, without whore, was prone to depression and suicidal thoughts, life pointlessness looming over her head like Damocles sword. The whore’s adventures reinvigorated her and gave her strength to trudge through frequently boring everyday life.
The whore without Kendra would self-destruct in a matter of days because of a lack of any kind of break or self-control. She was pure lust and desire, and from her point of view, consequences didn’t matter. That’s why every time the whore took things too far, Kendra would pull a leash just enough to keep both of them from falling into the abyss.
But the delicate balance between them was shattered after Kendra got married and had kids. The whore’s time was reduced to crumbs since most of Kendra’s time was spent on chores and duties required of a wife and mother. And it had its toll on both of them.
For the whore, the shortage of sexual affairs and transgressions meant that Kendra had a hard time controlling her, which manifested in flirting with any man that would knock on their house door: neighbor, mailman, plumber, you name it. Kendra knew it was just a matter of time before the whore would burst out and take one of them into the bed. And that could lead to the ruin of her suburban life and family.
For Kendra, prolonged periods as only a mother and wife meant deeper depression and darker thoughts. She hadn’t been able to escape her monotonous and repetitious life in the suburbs and find relief in the sins of the whore. Both were dissatisfied.
Finally, they had an idea. What if the whore has as many sexual experiences as possible in the time she has? In other words, more men in a shorter time.
The downside was that it exposed them to a much bigger risk of being caught because there weren’t many fairly discreet establishments in the neighboring big cities that could provide that kind of service.
But that’s how it had to be if they wanted to survive. It was the only way.
Or they thought so.
I am Kendra. For a little while, at least. It’s late Saturday night in August. It’s the whores night out. She has demanded my attention for the last five days. I couldn’t ignore her anymore. When she doesn’t get what she craves for too long, she starts intruding into my regular life.
It’s like taking a dog for a walk. You don’t have to do it, but if you don’t, it will piss and shit all over your house. Not that I complain. I really need a break from family life, at least for a night.
The moment I reach the destination, Kendra is gone, and I — the whore — am behind the wheel. Kendra is still here, but she is now just a bystander.
I park fairly close to the entrance, under one of the scattered street lights. That allows me to quickly reach my car once I get out of the building.
My pussy is already getting wet as I put on the plastic mask covering the upper part of my face and adjust the wig in the rearview mirror of the car. My clothes are all in red tonight: red latex boots with high heels that reach to my crotch, a red mini skirt so short that when I sit, my butt is completely naked, and the red latex top custom-tailored to push my boobs forward and tight against each other, making my big tits look even bigger.
Kendra’s clothes, which she wore when she kissed her husband and kids goodbye for the night, are in the backseat of the car. Butt plug is stirring inside my ass, making me squirm in pleasure from even the slightest movement. In rare cases, when it’s in me, I can cum without touching myself.
These orgasms are not like regular ones. They are more like a sudden surge of ecstasy that comes without warning and is so intense that my vagina vibrates like it has received a taser shock. If I happen to be walking at that moment, I must hold onto something until it passes. Even the small possibility of experiencing such a climax tonight makes my bare snatch cream on the leather seat of the car.
My husband thinks I am out with my sister. In case Frank calls, which he won’t, we have a ready story. My little sister doesn’t approve of what I do, although she once joined me out of curiosity and sheer desperation. It happened at a time when Mark didn’t fuck her at all, not so long after she gave birth to Jenny. I watched her eat the cocks and balls of five men in succession. She moaned and smeared cum all over her face. She would have sucked off even more guys, but by then it was my turn.
Later, she blamed it on the shots we took in the bar, which we got for free since the waiter bent us over behind some trash containers and fucked us silly. The waiter wasn’t more than twenty. After that night, she never joined me again, despite my nagging. Too bad. Having a company would be nice. And we had so much fun. It was the night of proper sister bonding. Much later, she confessed to me that every time she masturbates, she fantasizes about the dicks she sucked that night.
“Be careful,” she tells me worriedly on the phone. She is out in the restaurant with her girlfriends.
“You know I will be.” She doesn’t respond to that. Her silence speaks volumes. It comes as no surprise since she witnessed firsthand my complete disregard for moral boundaries. The night she went with me, we ended the adventure at the truck stop, where she watched some fat trucker fucking a transsexual prostitute while I sucked her cock. She even filmed it with her smartphone. I love that movie. It’s still somewhere on my phone.
“Don’t worry,” I add. “I’ll text you when I get home.” Then I hang up.
As I approach the entrance, my heart beats faster and faster until I feel like I will have a heart attack. It’s always the same, but I still do it at least once a month. With every step, my butt plug moves inside me, poking at all the right places as my pussy lips wetly rub against each other. I don’t cum this time. Still, when I’m on the edge like this, it can happen at any moment.
I enter the sex shop.
