Oh honey, I decided to take a foray into the world of the trad wife lifestyle and let me tell you – it was an experience! I mean, on the surface it looked fabulous – sleeping in, shopping, serving up meals to my man. What could possibly go wrong? Well, let me tell you…
It started innocently enough. I agreed to this little experiment with my man David, determined to give it my all. The alarm clock rang at 5:00am, a shocking enough time for this diva. I slid out of bed, hair a mess, makeup smeared. I crawled over to David’s side and slid under the covers, giving him a gentle wake up kiss – right on his semi-hard morning wood.
Well, David had other ideas. He grabbed my head and shoved his cock down my throat, turning me into a sloppy, gagging, choking mess. My mascara ran in rivulets down my face as he pumped and bulged my throat mercilessly. I sputtered and choked but he just kept going, using my mouth like a cheap fleshlight. Finally, he let out a grunt and pumped his load directly into my belly. I was left gasping for air, my carefully crafted beat utterly ruined.
But David wasn’t done with me yet. He flipped me onto my stomach, yanking my silk panties to the side. Without warning, he speared his hard cock into my tight little asshole and started pounding away. I screamed in a mix of pain and pleasure as he destroyed my hole, stretching me out around his thick girth. My ass was no match for his alpha cock. He fucked me hard and deep, moaning as he used my body for his pleasure.
When he finally exploded inside me, pumping me full of his hot seed, I thought I was going to pass out. He pulled out with a satisfied grunt and patted my ass. “Make me breakfast,” he commanded. “And I want a homemade pie with dinner. Oh, and the laundry isn’t going to do itself.”
I was done. Like, anyone with a 9 inch dick should be doing laundry and making pies! I mean, please! I’m O’Shea, honey, extraordinaire of drag queens. I don’t get up at the crack of dawn to serve a man, even a well-hung stud like David. I told him to fuck right off and get out of MY house.
After getting myself together, I headed to the club to vent to my girls. “Honey, I almost became a trad wife but then I remembered – I have standards,” I said, tongue-in-cheek. They all cackled at my misadventure.
Let this be a lesson – the trad wife lifestyle is NOT for me. I’m a Diva who serves face, not dinner. Give me a wig, some false lashes, and a packed club any day. At least there, when a man wants to serve my hole, I get paid for it in tips and tricks. Now THAT is a lifestyle this girl can get behind.
Love and Boners! – O’Shea
888.750.4746 Ext 849
