you want to cheat, cool...there's the door. There's no saving anything after that. Just have to move on.

Is so funny how libs like you are always stupid, no matter what the situation, everytime people like you talk or type its always something political about trump. Acutally its not funny, its sad and pathetic that so many people's mindsets are dictated by electronic news of the world.

Goal is a healthy relationship...

Looks like Kim wants some excuses for her filthy disgusting behavior.



Nice try Kim but if a woman even looks like she thought about cheating on me she's out the door. That little axe wound isn't all you think it is. I'd rather beat off and have extra money than stay with even a mildly irritating woman.


I'm tired of degenerate perverts trying to encourage everyone else to take part in their sick lifestyles to make themselves feel better about their reprehensible choices.


White women in this country have lost their minds. It was better in the 50s when you could give them a good slap to straighten them out. I wonder if deep down that's what they need.

Might want to read the article, chief.

"I'm nicer to my husband when I have something special going on that's just for me." She found that she was kinder, more patient, less resentful, "less of a bitch." It occurred to me as I listened that these women were describing infidelity not as a transgression but a creative or even subversive act, a protest against an institution they'd come to experience as suffocating or oppressive."

"These women were turning to infidelity not as a way to explode a marriage, but as a way to stay in it. Whereas conventional narratives of female infidelity so often posit the unfaithful woman as a passive party, the women I talked to seemed in control of their own transgressions."

This doesn't read like promotion to you? Any hint in the entire phucking article about any negative effect of cheating at all? Any talk of how it could affect the husband? The kids? It is 100% positive towards female promiscuity. Cheating is described as empowering and an act of social justice.

Hate on CNN has existed well before Trump. Nice try

Exactly, it's glorifed click bait that attempts to hold water by using her "real life examples" of her friends. I find it highly unlikely that 3 of her close friends have cheated on their husbands before because it simply doesnt fit the statistics. Yes she could be an anomaly and actually knows a lot of cheaters but that's doubtful. From there the article is just a ridiculous piece about how women should feel okay with going outside their marriage to meet their needs. Which can be true and certainly help save a marriage, but doing it behind your partners back is just plain wrong.

Also, judging by the way she views relationships I'd be willing to bet she is unmarried.,

Whatever it takes to save the marriage babe

Would never date/marry a liberal. You are asking for a failed marriage if you do.

the elite would be stupid to slow population growth because then there are fewer consumers and people tend to accumulate wealth easier with fewer kids

disgusting

Is society still pretending like women (In general, not all) are even worthy of the title of human?

Degens across the board, a proper mess.

This line is really sickening:



"The fact is," one of these friends told me, "I'm nicer to my husband when I have something special going on that's just for me." She found that she was kinder, more patient, less resentful, "less of a bitch." It occurred to me as I listened that these women were describing infidelity not as a transgression but a creative or even subversive act, a protest against an institution they'd come to experience as suffocating or oppressive.

For years I'd wanted to be with two men at the same time. I'd been with women, by myself or in threesomes with men; been to sex parties where I always somehow ended up with one man; tried S&M, bondage and public sex—but I had simply never been able to find two men at the same time with whom I felt comfortable enough to engage in a threesome. What's more, some of my girlfriends, all of them far less sexually adventurous than I, had managed it, and reported that it was exquisite.

Finally I got the opportunity to fulfill my fantasy. I was dating a guy who happened to be a swinger. Brian advertised on certain discreet websites, complete with photos of his nine-inch cock, and he was willing to engage in almost any kind of scene. Many of those who answered his ads were men with small dicks who wanted to watch their wives get it from a big one. You might say Brian was a professional stud.

You would be surprised how many men actually want to watch their wives get ****ed by another guy. And it is a big part of the fantasy that the guy be really well hung. It became a sort of speciality with Brian to service couples who wanted that kind of action. I got off on watching the husbands turn white as they watched Brian's huge cock split their wives open and bring them to screams of orgasmic ecstasy.

We'd been seeing each other for about six months, ****ing every two weeks or so (Brian's busy schedule precluded anything more frequent) when I got a phone call from an old boyfriend. Mark had been an unusual lover—he wasn't into actual ****ing so much as fantasy play. He used to tie me to the bedposts, blindfold me, and work me over for hours— eating my pussy, ****ing my face, feeding me fruit, and making me beg for his cock. In the years since I'd last seen him, he'd gotten married; now he called to say he was divorced and in town for a week-long business conference.

We chatted awhile, catching up on each other's lives. When I told him about Brian, he said he'd love to see me getting ****ed by such a massive organ; in fact, he confessed that one of his fantasies was to "prepare" a woman for "a big cock." Now, rare is the lover who can meet all my complex sexual desires: with Brian, though he ****ed me hard and deep, I'd been aching for more "dirty talk" and fantasy play, but he was fairly single-minded in his vigorous ****ing.

When I'd been with Mark, on the other hand, I'd sometimes longed for the simple pleasure of in-and-out. It seemed to me that Brian and Mark were perfect compliments to each other.

Furthermore, I felt totally comfortable with both men: they each adored me, lusted for my body, and were considerate, sensitive lovers. Neither was jealous or insecure. A threesome would be perfect.
When I called Brian, I outlined the scenario: Mark would get me hot and crazy, and then he, Brian, could **** me. As usual, he was more than willing to jump into any scene and play his part.

Mark came over early. I was wearing a black Merry Widow that showed off my voluptuous figure, pushing my tits over the lacy cups, which I knew Mark would love. He began by kissing me and fondling my tits, then ran his hand down to my naked crotch, where he teased me by lightly running his fingertips all around my outer folds. I was breathless almost immediately, feeling Mark's familiar expert touch, and was perfectly happy to let him tie me to the bed with scarves. He wrapped one around my eyes and let me lie there while he got undressed. Just then the doorbell rang. I lay there helplessly while Mark answered it. In a moment I heard Brian whisper, "Jesus Christ." He'd never seen me in such a compromising position, and I guess he was ready to jump my bones, because Mark told him, "Not yet." In a moment there was a cock against my cheek, and I knew from its size that it belonged to Mark.

"What's Brian doing?" I asked.

"Stroking his cock," Mark replied with a little giggle. "I've never seen anything like it—no wonder you're so hot for him."

I pictured Brian's cock, rising like a tower, and my pussy dripped. I was aching to be filled.

"Please," I gasped. "Someone **** me."

"Are you kidding?" Mark said. "You're nowhere near ready to be ****ed. No way."

I whimpered.

"Open," he said.

Knowing the rules, I opened my mouth and he slid his cock inside. But after one stroke he withdrew.

"That's just a taste of what you're gonna get." I heard Brian groan and couldn't help smiling at the way Mark took on the role of "master." He caught my grin and gently slapped my face.

"Don't laugh, slut. This is serious." He reached down and pulled on my erect nipples, releasing my tits from the Merry Widow, his fingers pinching hard. The slight edge of pain was excruciatingly exciting.

I felt Brian draw near. Then his huge pole was lying on my thigh. I moaned and squirmed, wanting it. Brian moved closer so the tip of his cock nudged my pubic hair.
"Not yet," Mark said sternly. His fingers glided around underneath me, and he unhooked my attire. Naked now, I felt totally exposed and vulnerable. Then four hands began moving up and down my torso, kneading my flesh, teasing my pussy. A finger entered me only slightly and I bucked and moaned, trying to take it in.

"You cock-crazy slut," Mark said. "You need it, don't you?"

"Yes," I moaned, thrashing my head from side to side. Briefly I wondered what Brian thought of all this. His heavy breathing told me he was turned on, but did he think I was perverted for liking the "abuse"? I didn't have much time to wonder about it, though, because suddenly Mark's cock was back in my mouth.

"Suck it. You wanna get ****ed, you'll have to work for it."

I sucked avidly and Mark drove his cock deep into my throat. I've always loved sucking cock while tied down and blindfolded—for some reason my throat relaxes and I'm able to take it all down effortlessly.

"Tell Brian you want him to **** you," Mark ordered. "Say it with this cock in your mouth."

"Brian, **** me," I pleaded unintelligibly, my mouth filled with dick.

I felt Brian climb onto me. The head of his enormous cock pressed against my pussy; it felt even bigger than usual. I was wide open and dripping, and he slid it in effortlessly, all nine inches enfolded by my steaming pussy. He grunted and pumped me full of his huge dick while Mark thrust his into my mouth, all the while calling me a slut and cock-crazy.
I couldn't believe the sensations. I was being filled up with cock from both ends, and I felt as if I could have easily accommodated more. I ground my hips against Brian as he ****ed me, and I began to climb towards orgasm. Mark, sensing my heightening excitement, let forth a stream of epithets, knowing it would take me over the top. In another moment I was cumming, my pelvis arched up, my head arched back, my pussy gripping Brian's cock, my lips gripping Mark's.

When I calmed down, Mark removed the blindfold. Brian climbed off me and stood on one side of the bed while Mark stood on the other. Over my head they stroked themselves and fondled their balls; every so often one of them would stick it in my mouth or smack it against my cheek or tits. I watched them jerking off over me. Brian decided to untie my hands and told me to squeeze my tits together. Then they both came at once, an enormous double fountain spraying my tits and face. I licked them each in turn and rubbed the pool into my nipples.

That wasn't the end of our session, but only the beginning. In a short while I'd used my mouth and hands to get them hard again. They turned me over and had me suck Brian while Mark ****ed me doggie style. Any worries I might have had about being able to handle two men at once proved unfounded; although I was fully satisfied by them, I felt I could have handled even more.

We went on until the sun came up, and then Mark left after a passionate good-by kiss and a friendly whack on the rear. Brian and I fell into bed, exhausted. Just before we fell asleep I asked, "Do you think I'm a slut?"

"I sure do," he laughed, "and I love it."

The session not only fulfilled a lifelong fantasy—it also introduced Brian into the possibilities of fantasy play. Now whenever he wants to get me really steamed up, he has only to give my ass a smack and call me names and I'm instantly wet. As for Mark, he calls me regularly, and promises he'll be coming back in a few months for more.

outward expression of inner resentment for being a failure to have anything of value other than her moist penis pocket


gross

quit your crying

You guys realize that arealChristian woman would be disgusted by this article and you wouldn't have to worry about this kind of chit if she was your partner?

Cuckolded husband detected.

I cry for you, brah. Because I know you cry yourself to sleep every night... only to be awoken at 3:00 am by your wife coming home after an "innocent night out with her best girlfriends". You know what she was up to. And so do I. And that is why you and I both cry.

wtf is this from

found her twitter...she looks like a douchebag too

Get those pussy fumes out yo brain, mother ****er. The man is talking sense here.

Couldn't even read it all. Not even 6am and I'm enraged

They want to slow 1st world population growth and import 3rd world morons that are easier to control.

Women only cheat on incompetent beta provider spouses. And by provider, I don't just mean providing in a monetary way.

The older I get, the more things I experience, see, or hear about, the less and less I consider getting into a marital bond/agreement. Im only 22.

Exactly. Don't be a pussy, let me know, and we can go our own separate ways. The "have your cake and eat it too" mindset has no room in this house.

on spread my friend


A person who cheats doesn't give a chit about you. Never waste a second begging for love or respect. It's either given, or it isn't.

Glad you enjoyed it, here's another one:



A Male Sex Slave Is Born

Let Mark tell you, in his own words, how he went from being a regular guy who watched football every weekend to becoming someone else, someone very, very different! -- The Editors

I am 6' 3", I weigh 200 pounds of firm muscle, and I own a real estate agency that employs eight people. To all outward appearances I'm a rugged, virile, 39 year-old male. When out with my wife, Kathie, a petite, delicate-featured blonde, we pass for a typical couple.

It would come as a shock to our friends and acquaintances if they were to enter our bedroom on any given weekend and discover Kathie perched on a canopied bed like a queen on her throne, while I run around half-naked serving her breakfast, drawing her bath, and catering to her every sexual whim. It would shock them even further to see Kathie dressed in her black leather dominatrix regalia, cracking her whip across my bare ass.

It's obvious from the merest perusal of "special services" ads placed on-line that I am not alone in my sexual proclivities; many men today enjoy being dominated by women. I first started having such fantasies 20 years ago. Back then I, like all my friends, began reading porn on-line and watching XXX DVDs. In most of them, women were submissive to men. The difference between my responses and those of my friends was that, while they seemed to get off on the movies and pictures as they were, in my mind I always put myself in the women's place, and would get excited and come imagining myself being sexually used. (I wondered if I was gay, but I had no desire to make love with men.)

I worried about my fantasies, thinking they signified deep psychological problems. I never shared them with anyone, and hoped one day they'd magically disappear. Perhaps to compensate, I started lifting weights, became an aggressive, successful businessman, and adopted a belligerent, macho personality. No one would ever suspect that beneath my Superman exterior beat the heart of a meek Clark Kent.

I married Kathie in my mid-twenties. We had a hot sex life, but little did Kathie know that when I was vigorously pumping my dick in and out of her pussy, behind my closed eyelids swam visions of her strapping me to the bedposts.
Some years ago, I spotted a website for professional dominatrixes. A few lines buried behind one of the links read, "I will whip you into submission and make you my willing slave. Text Dominique." So one afternoon, I stole away from my office and visited this "Dominique."

She wore a leather skirt, high-heeled boots, elbow-length gloves, and a halter with holes revealing her nipples. Her equipment included a whip, chains and nipple clamps. In a deep, gravelly voice she told me to put myself completely into her hands, which, despite my nervousness, I did. She tied me naked to a chair and gagged me. My cock stood up in rigid attention.

Dominique paced up and down in front of me, chain-smoking menthol cigarettes, calling me a "slut" and a "slave," every so often cracking her whip across my thighs and flicking her ashes on me. I panted with excitement, awed by her power and magnificence. Finally she untied my hands and let me jerk myself off while she stood in back of a chair, teasing my mouth with a ball-gag.

I visited Dominique secretly once a week for about two years. Sometimes she repeated her "cruel" treatment of our first visit; other times she dressed me in women's lingerie and tenderly carried me into bed where she made sweet love to me. As time went on, we began to talk, and Dominique became as much of a therapist as a sex worker.

She told me she had many customers, and that she believed men were drawn to her because they were tired of always having to be the aggressor in bed. It was true that my evenings with Dominique were a huge source of stress reduction for me, a chance to let go of all of my responsibilities. Our sessions seemed to be making me a better lover with Kathie, although I still played the traditional role with her in bed.

But I was troubled by the lie I was living, fearful and guilty lest my wife discover I was cheating on her. I discussed this with Dominique, who encouraged me to talk about my need to be dominated with my wife.

I finally decided to try and reveal my desires to Kathie. She was out one night, and I waited for her in bed. When she came in I watched her undress as she chatted to me about her day. She slipped off her blouse, revealing her full tits in a black lace bra, then removed the thin belt around her waist.

"Hold it," I said, watching her with admiration. "You look sooo sexy like that."

"I do?" she asked, looking at herself in the mirror.

I kicked off the covers, revealing my hard-on. "Oh baby," I said, "Take me. Do whatever you want with me."
Confused, but still incredibly hot, Kathie did what she always did -- got down on her knees and sucked my cock, letting her belt fall unused to the floor. I sighed, succumbing to her expert tongue and mouth, then followed her cues to **** her, while she got to lie and enjoy the sensations.

The next time I saw Dominique, she ridiculed me for my naiveté when I complained about Kathie's lack of imagination. She explained that most women had no idea what to do with a passive man in bed, and that, further, all their lives they'd been trained to be passive. It would require, she said, not merely permission, but active encouragement, to bring out Kathie's buried aggressions -- for Dominique claimed that men and women alike had the potential for both passivity and aggression, and if given the opportunity would be able to explore either. She said I would have to talk to Kathie, and lay my cards out on the table.

It took a few more months, but finally I was able to broach the subject. One night after our lovemaking, I held Kathie in my arms and asked her if she ever had the urge to dominate me. She said she thought we had a pretty equal relationship and she liked it that way. I persisted, explaining I meant sexual domination. Finally I broke down, confessing everything -- all my fantasies and desires, my visits to Dominique.

Kathie was stunned and hurt that I'd been cheating on her. She slept in the living room that night. I was sure my marriage was over.

The next night I came home to find the house lit by candles, eerily silent. I wandered through the rooms looking for Kathie: she was nowhere in sight. I went into the bedroom and reached for the light switch.
"Don't you dare!" a voice hissed from the corner. In the dim light I saw a figure emerge from the shadows. She was clad in leather, even wearing a rubber hood over he head and face with openings for her eyes, nose, and mouth.

"Kathie?"

"Shut up!" she ordered, cracking a whip sharply on the wooden floor. "Take off your clothes."

I didn't know if she was playing or really seeking vengeance for my infidelity, but I was instantly excited. Quickly I stripped.

"Kneel," she ordered.

I got down on my knees and she snapped a pair of handcuffs on my wrists.

"You cheating, lying bastard," she swore. "You ungrateful little wimp. How dare you even look at another woman? Beg my forgiveness."

"I'm sorry," I whimpered, my cock swelling with every word. "Please forgive me."

"Please forgive me, DARLING," she ordered, cracking her whip across my ass.
"Please forgive me, darling," I moaned.

"Hah! Get up. Hurry up, on your feet, slave. Get into that bed."

I stumbled onto the bed.

"Turn over on your stomach," she commanded.

I obeyed. She lashed out with the whip, hitting me on my back and buttocks. With each crack I got more and more excited.

Pre-come was leaking from my cock; at the same time I was truly terrified. Kathie wasn't playing a role, as Dominique had with me, for money. Kathie was genuinely pissed off and angry, and I wondered if she'd do some real damage.

I heard her getting undressed. Then she rolled me onto my back, and, still wearing her hood, climbed on top of me. Then she grabbed my cock forcefully, jammed it up her wet pussy, and rode up and down on me, slapping my face, taking her own pleasure.

"Come on, you bastard, move those hips!"

I bucked inside her and my cock exploded at the same moment her inner walls palpitated in orgasm. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me, more intense than anything I'd experienced through my fantasies or with Dominique.

Kathie climbed off me, took off her hood and undid my handcuffs. "Is that how you like it?" she asked in her normal voice.

I couldn't speak. Gratefully, I embraced her and held her close. She began to weep, her tears falling on my chest. She told me she'd been devastated by my infidelity, and had gone to see Dominique to confront her. Dominique had calmed her down, and explained that I loved Kathie and only saw her in a professional capacity. She told her the rudiments of domination, assuring Kathie I was not a wild pervert -- and Kathie had taken it from there.

Kathie said she'd been surprised at how much she enjoyed humiliating me, mostly because it allowed her to vent her rage over what I'd done. But she also confessed that she'd enjoyed it on another level -- it had shown her a side of herself she hadn't known existed.
That night was only the start of our adventures. In the future, Kathie developed a complete repertoire, often surprising me with a variety of imaginative costumes and scenarios. Now, however, she maintained emotional control. Her domination of me was no longer a vengeful act, but a carefully orchestrated play in which I was her willing slave.

Sometimes we reverted to old-fashioned lovemaking, and occasionally reversed roles, with me dominating her. But she discovered that she really enjoyed being the dominant partner, and says that over the years our activities have changed her for the better -- that she is stronger and more self-confident as a result of having tapped into the aggressive side of her nature.

It's a Sunday afternon. I've had a rough week wheeling and dealing. Most of my peers are lying back watching the football game while their wives bring in sandwiches and beer. But I'm preparing an elegant dinner which I'll serve my wife in her chambers. If I'm lucky, she'll allow me to dine with her. Then she'll force me to kneel and lick her ******* while she plays with her pussy. When I'm good and hard, she'll throw me onto the bed and **** my brains out, while I lie back in utter submission, all the stress and tensions of the week melting away, grateful to be in the hands of a powerful woman whose willing slave I will forever be.

Did you read the article?The article is straight up claiming that cheating on your husband will help your marriage because you will not be sexually frustrated and won't be a bitch to him.

Not even my words, that's a paraphrase from CNN.



you fukking retard, negged.