Hidden Secrets, Forbidden Truth

Dear Diary,

My husband left town again, and I feel totally alone. He received his promotion the other day, so we moved from the deep south to the coldest place in the north. I forgot what this city is called, but all I know is that it's in Maine, and it is pretty chilly.

Last week, the temperature dropped from a relaxing 76 degrees to a brittle 40 degrees with a mild chance for rain. I didn't fully plan ahead for this drastic change so I wore my sheer sweater. What happened next made me feel utterly embarrassed! I chose not to wear  a bra ‌  that day since it was just him and I wasting sunlight at the park. I looked down and I see my nipples hardening through my shirt.

My husband laughed at me for it. I thought he was super rude and insensitive that at a time like that he would laugh at my body. He placed his firm hand on my soft bottom and gently kissed my neck softly. He whispered a loving tune in my ear that made my heart skip three times, and not to mention  my panties ‌  grew moist. I leaned in closer, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. I told him that even though he laughed, I hope he enjoyed the view. He nodded and adjusted his hand where it slid easily into my jet black booty shorts.

I remember that day perfectly. He wore his favorite electric denim blue True Religion jeans with his favorite anime hoodie jacket. He had custom made black  Timberland's Waterproof boots ‌  on, along with his signature Polo socks. God, that man looked sexier and sexier every day. My husband had thick dreadlocks, stretching down mid-back, with a faded edge up around his six-inch beard, hazel colored contacts, and his favorite 10 karat custom made grill in his mouth.

As for myself, I wore something simple, yet complimentary, compared to his outfit. I wore a fitting black  fishnet shirt ‌  with a blue violet lightweight  tank top ‌  underneath it. The sleeves on the shirt were mid-length, stopping half an inch past my elbows. I also wore  skintight electric blue shorts ‌  with golden hemming. To complete the outfit, my husband picked out sheer cat  sexy high stockings ‌  with jet black Timberland high heel boots.

My husband treats me right, especially buying my favorite pair of  sexy high stockings ‌  that I pointed out to him online. Fast forward to that evening, he had a surprise for me at our hotel room. He put a  purple blindfold ‌  over my eyes and placed my favorite leather leash and collar around my neck before we got out the car. By then it was 19:00 and pretty dark outside. He guided me back to the room and told me to sit still on the bed. By day I am a normal wife, but at night I transition into his personal pet with a customized domestic house cat life. He knows I love roleplaying as a cat, and every chance we get, he will treat and train me like one. If I'm really good I get to have my favorite desert-- double serving of creampies inside of me.

Gently laying me down on a satin cased pillow, my husband stripped my shoes off my soft feet, exposing my clear coated toes and the  sexy high stockings ‌  he bought me. Mind you, diary, I'm still blindfolded and wearing my Good Kitty collar. He told me to hold still and I'll receive an instant treat. My lips watered while my legs trembled with joy and anticipation. He knew where every single one of my hot spots were, as well as the ultimate spot that he touches to punish me for pleasure.

I'm getting all hot again just by reliving that night. By now my mind was in a whole different universe, fantasizing about my man giving it to me just the way his petite kitty likes it. We both enjoy doing everything raw and tasting each other juices. If I'm really good he gives me a little warm bath with his juices all over my breast and face, telling me how much of a good kitty cat I am. After some time of teasing me, he removes my blindfold and leash from my collar. I see him wearing nothing but his Timb's, his glistening wedding band on his ring finger, his tatted sleeve on both arms, a black bandana covering most of his face, and his locs relaxed around his shoulders.

Oh diary, the rest is history. For five hours he bent me over, pounding my tight little hole until it was swollen, tugging on my collar until I begged him to stop, bound my hands and feet together with the stretchy, sexy high stockings, and came multiple times in my face from his throbbing piece. I can't lie, I choked on it several times, causing him to express his load all on my face, in my hair, and on my low-trimmed mound. Not once did I tap out. If I did, he would punish me again for not taking his piece like I was supposed to. I guess you can say, by the end of our session, our love was history, and pretty sticky.

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