Karen is a sexy Scottish wife who's been corresponding with me for several weeks. She recently came through with her confessions and asked if I wouldn't mind sharing it as something to help kick off the new month of February. I decided to oblige. These are her words and thoughts, the writing is mine.
My name is Karen, but my friends prefer to call me Kat. My husband does, too, as he says I have the body of a beguiling feline; I consider that a compliment, mind you. My reason for contacting you is that I’m seeking a Black Master to tame me, to train me into becoming a hotwife, and also to own me to do whatever bidding he demands. I hear that you’re on the lookout for such women, which is why I’d love to take this time to apply for your consideration.
I am in my early thirties with no kids yet. I have a statuesque figure, as you can see from my photos, though my tits and ass aren’t as big as some women, but I can guarantee once you have me in bed, I’d be like a roaring engine that wouldn’t quit.
I have been married for seven years, but it has been a sexually unsatisfying for as long as I can remember. My husband has no idea that I’m writing to you, nor did he have any hand in taking the photos of myself that I’m sending you. He thinks of me as a meek, conservative wife that he married. That is fine and dandy, but unbeknownst to him, I’ve always desired more than what he has given me. By more, I mean in regards to sex.
I have been sex-starved for ages, and I’ve grown weary of fighting back the urge of containing my plight further. I’ve never presented this subject to my husband before; I doubt he’s capable of grasping the type of neglect he has inspired in me since. It would be great if he were to figure things out instead of wait for me to present it to him, which I fear would be a waste of time. He would get upset, and then he’d assume I want to end our marriage, which is the last thing on my mind.
There are days when I feel suddenly disdainful regarding my marriage. Those are the days when I was to get out of my clothes, jump on my bed and twerk my booty. I’ve done that, too: opened my windows, blasted some music and danced and twerked on my bed. When I got tired, I’d lock my thighs around my pillow, thrust my hips, and pretend to have incredible sex with it. This compelled me to purchase a new set of dildos online, one of which happens to be a black dildo; I utilize that one the most.
My husband has woken up at night to find me working my dildo under the sheets. He wanted to say something but chose not to, and instead fell back to sleep. The next morning, he went about like nothing had happened. I would have loved if he had said something, at least inquired if everything was all right, and then I’d have revealed to him what I was harboring in my heart.
I’d love to share with my husband the ache and desires clamoring inside me: of me wanting to be more than a mere housewife to him, or to myself. Yes, I crave sex but not with him; I desire sex with someone I reckon is incredible in bed, who would make my head explode with multiple orgasms (maybe not at once, but you get what I mean, right?) and who would mold me into a unique type of woman that I could only dream of becoming.
Such type of women do exist. I see them whenever I get on Twitter, or when I happen to visit some cuckold/hotwife website showcasing these women doing that thing, making it abundantly clear that they love showcasing their sexual cravings for the world to view. I have thought about opening an OnlyFans page, but I’m hesitant of what might happen if my husband finds out. He does get on the internet more often than me, and we share a computer at home. it would take little effort for him to discover the pages I’ve visited. I’ve been lucky cleaning my history whenever I get off, but it’s only a matter of time before I get careless.
I don’t wish to be careless about writing you this letter; for me, this is a love letter of appreciation that I want to share with you. Do not take the angst in my words to mean that I’m troubled; I am as level-headed as any woman can be to pen these words down.
Most women would probably write to you and want to know whatever intentions you would carry out upon first meeting them. For me, the thought of being in your presence would be overwhelming for me to dare consider such.
I would seek you to do with me whatever you wish, anything to make me compete with other bitches in your harem to vie for the top spot of being one of your esteem whores. I would plead for you to fuck me hard always. Choke me on the bed while you ram your cock inside me. Force me to give you the best blowjob ever: hold my head down while I drain your balls; don’t ever renege from being brutal with me regardless of how effortless I might scream. I want to feel your hands pawing my butt, to kneel before you and beg you to do with me however you please.
Yes, sir, I desire to scream aloud for you. I would love to scream and to cum for you in the best way possible. Hang my feet over your shoulder, lift my butt off the bed and smash your lips against mine while your cock keeps stretching and fucking me. Drop me back on the bed, roll me over as I lie flat on the surface, and then shove your cock into my back hole.
