Book 3: Free To Be A Freak

The first tear slipped out of her eyes like it was shy. Like it could not quite believe it was free, just like she could not believe she was finally free.

After 4 years in an abusive marriage, 4 years of being beaten, talked down on, fucked and maltreated, being treated like she did not except to pleasure him and be his punching bag, Latifah just could not believe it was real and finally happening.

As the men laid down her husband in the coffin and then put him into the cold, hard earth, her joy kept bubbling, slowly but surely.

It had taken so long to get here. So fucking long and finally, fina-fucking-ly, she could be her own woman, she could love whoever she wanted, live wherever she wanted and fuck whoever could rock her body better.

The car ride back home was quiet. Her driver knew better than to disturb her thoughts, she was after all, grieving.

He didn't need to know the dirty thoughts floating around in her head.

All the maids curtsied silently as Latifah walked into the mansion and straight into her bedroom upstairs.

She looked at herself in the floor to ceiling mirror and slowly let the black mourning dress slip from her shoulders and pool at her fit. This was it. She was shedding away that dress like she was shedding away her past.

Her slender hands moved up and touched her face, she was beautiful. She knew she was beautiful, but every day for four years, she had learned to hate her beauty. It was what had led her into the trap of a marriage in the first place.

Well, now that the tyrant was dead...

"Look at that, look at you. Beautiful" she said to her reflection in the mirror as her hand trailed from her face down to her perky boobs.

No matter how roughly they had been handled by her late husband, they still stood erect, strong... Her nipples hard and ready. Her beautiful survivors.

A shiver raked her skin and spine as she trained her hands down towards her already wet, pink pussy.

It was hers. All hers.

She slipped her middle finger inside the warm embrace of her folds and moaned out loud.

"Fuck"

Latifah slowly kneeled in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection with hooded eyes as she moved the finger slowly in and out of her pussy.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck yes"

This was it. This was the life a 24 year old should get to experience. And she would experience it all. First, she would travel to las Vegas.

She needed to be washed clean from her past by the sweaty bodies of the male strippers and dancers.

She needed the hot hunks grinding their bodies against hers, licking and touching on her skin.

She imagined one of them slowly taking off his glittery shorts, leaving him stark naked in front of her as she admired the toned muscles of his butt.

The image had her slipping one more finger into her hungry pussy and pushing them in and out of her.

"Oh, god, yes" tremors raked her body, but she kept going.  She imagined his voice, rough and low, telling her to kneel, his hands holding on to his thick member, running and teasing himself while she watched on her knees.

Zainab's fingers moved quickly, in and out, in and out. She shivered, already feeling the intense orgasm coming. Her hips buckled in rhythm with her fingers. Her tight pussy clamped down on her fingers hungrily.

Zainab's eyes closed completely, imagining her fingers was the hard penis of the stripper.

"Oh god!! Oh god, oh yes, oh god yes!"

Another bolt of electricity went through her straight to her overcharged core and settled there.

She imagined his broad back, gleaming with sweat as he rammed his dick into her to the very base for being a good girl.

He complements her.

"You take me so well, Z. You take my cock so fucking well."

While slamming into her, the sounds of their bodies meeting and clapping.

She imagined his mouth also agape from the pleasure her pussy gives him.

She imagined him biting his lips and groaning deeply as he neared his release.

She thought of him pulling on her hair and holding her in place while she took his cock in her mouth, spanking her cheeks every ones in a while as she chocked on his cock, drool slipping from the sides of her lips.

She thought of him saying "Take my cock like a good whore, Z. Take it all! Don't be shy, I know you can"

Zainab's hands worked quicker, this time, she flattened four fingers on her pussy, rubbing them to and fro, front and back on her clit as she laid flat on the floor, not caring to look in the mirror anymore.

"Oh god, I'm cumming. Yes baby, oh yesssss.... Ohhh yessssss"

She imagined him breathing into her ear, groaning and moaning.

Latifah could barely keep her voice from rising as she whimpered.

There were housekeepers in the house. She didn't need them being nosy and coming to find her with her fingers buried deep inside her.

They probably thought she was up here crying and mourning her late husband.

The thought of being discovered made Zainab's heart race, her pussy quacked and pulsed, her body kept shivering due to the weight of her release.

"Oh fuuuuuuuuuck!!! Fuck yes yes yes yessssssssssss... Oh god oh god oh god oh god..."

Latifah whimpered over and over again as she came hard, her pink pussy turning red from the intensity.

Latifah laid there on the floor, her legs dripping with her juises, hair scattered, lips and cheeks flushed and began to laugh. Fuck yes.

She was free.

Latifah stretched, and too weak to stand on her own feet, crawled the short way into the en suite bathroom, turned on the shower as she washed herself while still sprawled on the bathroom floor.

She never could masturbate on her own when that mister of a husband was around. He would hit her and scream in her ear that her body was his and what ever pleasure she got must come from him and only him.

Then he would whip her till she bruised and bled and had to hide her discolored body with make up and large clothes.

She was just a practice partner for all his selfish kinks he came up with and learned from pornography. Even if they would have been fun and pleasurable if he had at least tried to not make it about himself alone.

She had been practically sold by her parents to him for a lot of money to play his wife and whore. The thought of her parents betrayal still stung.

Latifah let the shower water wash away the bad memories as they came. He was gone. Taken by sickness. She was free. And her body belonged to her.  And she would do everything to rewrite her experiences. Starting from now.

After another short session in her bathroom, Latifah walked out into her room, feeling clean but still fucking horny.

She was not nearly satisfied even after fucking herself in the bathroom,  her pussy still quacked and clenched.

With a final resolve and resolution in her heart, Latifah picked up her laptop and booked her flight to Las Vegas.