As he hit as far as he could, he looked to me and smiled. I nodded to give him permission to do what he wanted. He swiftly used my hair as a lever and...pulled my head back and forth. He was rough and seemed to ignore my watering eyes and pay more attention to my moaning. I’m glad he did, I was leaking on the ground wanting to feel that force lower on my body. I wanted him so bad. With him taking control I reached under my skirt and found my clit I rubbed it furiously wanting to come as he did.. After a sniffle, she said "Thanks, Jack. Just you holding me like that makes me feel better." 'Makes me feel pretty damn good too,' I thought. "Of course," I said, "nothing makes me happier than knowing I can cheer you up. Now tell me your dilemma this time around." Katie went on to explain what had happened. I had become rather good at getting the gist of what she was saying through her huge amount of pointless details, and could usually tune out and still know the whole story in the end. But. I was floored, speechless. I just sat down on the bed and started crying. After a few minutes she walked over to me and told me that this was our problem. I was a weak man and if I wanted to stay married to her that I would now be the property of Ben and I would be at his calling.I stood to protest and to leave....She Just pushed me back on the bed and said "shut the fuck up and do as your told" and I just sat down on the bed resigned to my fate. At that point she grabbed me by my hair and. Plural. She was a slut, pure and simple. She might be great in bed. (Okay, she was great in bed.) She might be fun to talk to on a date. (Okay, she was.) She might be attractive and personable and articulate and amusing and...But she was a slut.So -- you think to yourself -- how important is it, really, that she's slept with all those other guys if she really does like you?I mean, you got her off, right? She wasn't faking that orgasm! I'd bet on that. I'd bet my future winning World Series.