Slut Wife Sex Story

Tammy and I were very happy in the first few months of our marriage.

Hers was the love I had always looked for. Tammy was such a sweet

young girl, a virgin of 20 when we married. She was flat out

gorgeous, but you wouldn’t know it to look at her in the street. She

hid her shapely body and legs in loose, long cut dresses, and kept

her thick black hair pinned back. She was a lady, a beautiful

angel. She was a minister’s daughter, raised in a deeply Christian

household, and her strong religious convictions made her very

conscious to not dress provocatively. It was just as good. I’d

come to know over the few months what a spectacular body she had. I

felt privileged to have seen it all, and to have been the first man

to feel the inside of her lovely young pussy.

In contrast to her, I was much more adventurous sexually. Certainly

no virgin, by the time I was her age I had had many women. Sex was

the most important thing in my life. You might even consider me a

sex addict; I spent many hours in strip clubs and adult bookstores,

enjoying pornography and the pleasures of feeling up strippers. In

fact, I continued to do this even after we were married, because

while Tammy was the love of my life, there were feelings and urges

that she didn’t satisfy. There was no way I could tell her about

this, she wouldn’t understand, so it remained a secret I kept from

her.

Marriage so far had been a compromise. I brought her along slowly;

She was very resistant to do anything she considered “kinky”, and to

her that included blowjobs and any kind of ass play. I was crazy

enough about her to hold myself back. It was tough for me. Birth

control was out of the question because of her religion, so early in

our marriage, before we wanted children, there were long periods

when I didn’t get anything at all. But as tough as it was, I did

love her, and I even treated it like a tease. Slowly, over the

months, she was loosening up, and with each new boundary we crossed

I felt encouraged. Just small things, things like kissing my cock or

letting me talk dirty to her while we “made love” really got me off,

they felt to me like conquests, because she was so resistant. And

oh, so beautiful. I longed for the future, because I knew that

someday I’d have her doing anything I wanted. Someday I’d have her

kneeling before me, and looking up at me, waiting for me to blo w my

load all over her pretty face.

But, you know, woman of a certain age start thinking of babies, and

Tammy was that age. So after we were married almost a year she

decided we’d try for one. And it was like a switch was thrown in

her head – all of a sudden she craved sex. She had no problem doing

what I wanted to get started – lots of nights I’d come home to find

her in the slutwear she refused to wear for me when we were first

married. There was a part of me that felt resentful, used, because

she wasn’t doing these things for me, just to use my urges to get

what she wanted: a baby. So there she’d be when I got home from

work, all dolled up like a groupie, with a bikini top, skimpy cotton

dress high enough to show the tops of her thigh-highs, and the “fuck

me” pumps I loved so much. Yeah, she had the look, she knew what I

liked and how to tease, but she wouldn’t really act the part. I

wanted to get head; I wanted her eyes looking up at me from down

there. That was all I thought about, but she just wouldn’t do it. It

was the same excuseshe used all along: “In the eyes of God it was

unnatural”. Still the “nice girl” inside. But I knew the real

reason – She wasn’t about to waste any of my precious baby seed that

way. So straight sex was all she’d allow. And from my end,

straight sex 10 or so times a week is more work than I bargained

for. I wasn’t 18 anymore. A few times we’d get started, she’d be

under me, egging me on, tickling my ass with her long nails, and all

of a sudden something would happen to me. I’d lose it, just go soft.

I’d be ashamed, she’d say “That’s OK.” Months went on, there was no

sign of a baby, and I knew she was unhappy.

As if that wasn’t enough, money started becoming a problem – I just

didn’t make enough. I was going to school at night, but was stuck

in a low paying day job until I finished school. Things were real

tight. We lived in a small apartment, and never had enough money

for simple pleasures like vacations. We couldnТt even afford to go

out to dinner when her friends invited us. It seemed like all our

friends had much more than we did. Some of her girlfriends even had

vacation homes.

So she was unhappy enough about the money to go out to work. She

found a job as an office girl. Every day she rode the subway to her

job downtown. I felt terrible seeing her go to work. She never

complained openly, she really was a sweet girl, but there were

times, especially when she was talking with her better off friends

that I saw a hint of unhappiness, real jealousy. The man in me knew

this wasn’t right. If we could just hold on for a few years, things

would be better. I’d make more money after I finished school. She

could quit, I’d have more time, more energy, and enough money to

provide for her. Then maybe those baby juices would kick in again. I

was determined to stick it out. I still loved her.

She had been working a few months when she started acting out about

it. She’d be silent, almost sullen when she came home, saying

little about what went on. She worked for some company downtown –

all I knew was its name, Invigra Inc., and that she spent her day

doing some kind of clerical work. I could sense a change in her.

She wasn’t after me for sex anymore. She started angry all the

time. SheТd come home from work and not even talk to me, and I felt

miserable. I felt like a failure.

For a week or so I consoled myself by spending more time in the

strip clubs after work. The girls there weren’t so demanding, just a

quick buck and they shook their ass for me. But after having the

promise of her, the hope that she would turn into some dark angel in

bed, these diversions didn’t satisfy anymore.

So one day I confronted her. “What’s with you? Ever since you

started this job you’ve changed. I told you it would only be till I

finished school, but you’re acting like you’re mad about it!”

She just ran into the bedroom, tears in her eyes and closed the

door. “Fuck her!” I thought. I got my coat on and went out, out to

the local titty bar. I hadn’t cheated on Tammy at all since we’d

been married, unless you count feeling up strippers and sluts in

these clubs. My hands worked overtime that night, and a lot of the

money that Tammy earned wound up laced through g-strings.

She was sitting up in bed when I got home. She said she was sorry,

but her unhappiness these past few weeks had nothing to do with me.

She wasn’t mad about working; she just hated the place she was in.

What she told me next changed my mood completely.

“There’s a boss there, and he’s always hitting on me. I have to go

into his office, and he’s always putting his hand on me, touching my

bottom.” She was starting to sob as she said this, a tear falling

in a slow roll down her soft cheek. “He says things to me, dirty

things” My heart started beating. Someone was going to get his ass

kicked.

“What’s his name?”

“Brock.” What kind of name was that, I thought?

“We’ll Tammy, tomorrow I’m going to work with you. And I can

guarantee you this Brock asshole isn’t ever going to bother you

again.” I wanted her to know IТd take care of this for her, I wanted

her to feel safe, protected. I didnТt tell her that I hadnТt been

in a fight since grammar school. This guy Brock was probably some

old office guy, grown pudgy and soft around the middle. I told her

IТd make this guy sorry he ever messed with her. I showed her my

fist, and said, “This guy will be one sorry motherfucker!”

She just stared wide-eyed at me.

When we got into the elevator the next morning, she pressed floor

45. I noticed that Invigra had floors 39-45 in the building, and I

pondered the meaning of her working on the top floor. I guessed that

this Brock was some bigwig in the company. I figured the guy was

some old business fart, I’d make short work of him.

The offices on the 45th floor seemed very prosperous indeed. Very

plush and dignified, our footsteps were silent in the thick

carpeting. The receptionist was an extraordinarily beautiful woman,

a polished Nordic beauty, wearing a thin silk blouse. I could see a

hint of protruding nipples, and I felt myself stir.

Tammy asked for Brock, and we were asked to wait for a few minutes.

While we were waiting on the couch, I amused myself by checking out

the people in the office as they walked through the corridor.

Almost everyone was female, and they were all knockouts, young woman

in their early 20’s, impeccably dressed and attractively made up.

Even the voices were sexy. I wondered if Invigra was some sort of

modeling agency. I was about to ask Tammy when a tall, shapely

oriental woman told us the Mr. Brock would see us now.

As we walked through the hall to his office, I got myself ready. I

was going to surprise the prick, get right in his face. Just one

word from him and I’d throw his sorry ass right through the fuckin

window.

The Asian girl opened the door, and for a moment, I just took in the

surroundings. Mr. Brock’s office was the size of our apartment. It

was a corner office with two floor-to-ceiling, windows that looked

out on the harbor. There was a sitting area with a couch and two

easy chairs on the right as you walked in, a rich mahogany bar on

the left, and a long expanse of thick red carpeting before Brock’s

desk.

He was standing there, and at the first sight of him all my plans of

kicking his sorry ass through the window evaporated. I’d need to

try something different. Brock was a huge black man, at least 6’7″,

and he probably weighed about 250 pounds. He was in his late

twenties, there was an athletic grace to his movement he rose from

behind his big desk and sauntered over to us. No way I’d last two

seconds in a fight with him. He shook my hand: “Tammy’s told me all

about you.” He looked down, and gave enough of a squeeze in his

grip to make me grimace. Somehow he knew what I were there for.

I couldn’t talk, couldn’t get the words out of my throat. He looked

at me, with the light of a smirk in his eyes. “What’s on your

mind?” he said with a bit of a challenge. There was something

disorientating about him. In addition to his physical bulk, there

was an air of settled power and prosperity about him. His was

dressed in a custom tailored pinstripe suit, a silk tie that

probably itself cost my weeks wages. He had lots of expensive

jewelry: A solid gold watch, several large rings, and his right ear

had a 3 or 4 carat diamond stud. He exuded power and confidence.

Guessing how he made it here, I had an image of him beating some

drug dealer to death in a dark alley, winning his first piece of

turf on his climb to the top. But there was another image that fit

also, because I had to admit the man had an air of smartness, a

winning combination of ballsy wits and a cat-like alertness. He

could have made it here with his brains too, dealing on the trading

floor of an exchange.

I had to say something. Both he and Tammy were staring at me. I

started to look at Tammy, but I couldn’t meet those soft green eyes

that stared back. I knew she remembered how big and tough I sounded

last night, how I ran my mouth about what I would do to Brock. I

realized she looked at me the same way last night and I realized she

didn’t give me even a hint of what Brock was like. I didn’t like

the feel of that in me; She knew what I was getting myself into, and

she let it happen.

“Well, Tammy, guess I’ll just get back to work while your MAN here

gets himself together” He gave Tammy a quick wink he turned and

started back to his desk. As he sat down he laughed: “Guess a cat

got his tongue!” He leaned back in his leather chair and studied

me. Sizing me up with a cool hard stare. I couldn’t hold his gaze,

I had to look past him at the boats in the harbor behind him. The

ball was in my court, and I felt helpless.

He pressed a button and said, “Bring in some refreshments for my

guests, please.” Still leaning back, the silence held the charge in

the air.

“Tammy tells me you kids are trying to have a child.” He was

starting, he knew he had an opening and would work on the wound.

“Kids,” even though he was ten years younger than us. I had the sick

sense of where he was going.

“But its been months now, and I don’t see any change in her lovely

figure.”

“But then again, it might take …. many years…” He was grinning

from ear to ear, flashing his big white teeth, “…Considering what

you have to work with!” He eased back in his chair, letting fly

with a a big, booming laugh.

Finnally, I forced some words out, “y-y-y-y-you know, y-y-y-you

c-c-c-an’t harass w-w-women that work for you!” I was gulping for

air as I fought to get the words out.

“Lighten up, man.” He was so cool, calm, “You know, I can do

whatever I want. The law says I can’t ‘harass’, well, let me tell

you, the law applies only to chumps like you.” There was a flash in

his eyes. “Fact is, I can pick up this phone and be talking to the

Governor in about two minutes. Think you gonna tell me about the

law?”

He started back in: “What was that word, ‘harass’. Well that means

unwelcome, but let me tell you chump, your woman has needs, she be

givin off all kinds of signals, hints like, you know what I mean?”

He fell into an insolent, easy jive, I could feel the blood rise in

my cheeks as I watched his smile start again – “But no you wouldn’t

know, sorry-ass wuss like you get no signals no time, ha, ha, ha”

The door opened, and one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen

walked in. She walked like she was on a runway, with a smooth

rocking motion to show the form of her leg and the lift of her high

heels. She was carrying a tray of drinks, and when she turned to

set them on the low credenza, she bent low, and I saw even more of

her smooth, sexy legs. My eyes were locked on her, there was a

certain charge in the air, and even though I was sick with fear I

felt desire stir, knowing that the feel of her against my body

would comfort me. But she was his, I knew it. I watched her leave

the same way she came in. When I looked back at Brock, he was

staring at me. I knew he never even glanced at her the whole time,

even though the show was for him. He didn’t need to, because his

dick new every sweet fold and crevice of her body. He was staring

hard at me. A line had been crossed.

“Its a great country isn’t it!” He was toying with me know, enjoying

the upper hand, the way a cat plays with a cornered mouse. “Guy can

really make somethin of hisself here, all you need is a pair of big

balls, but then again, guess you wouldnТt know”

He rose and walked over to us, and stood over me. I was sitting low

in the sofa, he seemed like a giant glowering down at me. “C’mon,

get up. What you waitin for, boy. Your lady, here, she be thinkin

you don’t care about her. C’mon, make me stop hittin on her!!”

Tammy was watching me, watching with the same stare she had ever

since we entered the office. All last night she was quiet, let me

build myself up, talk big, even though she knew what I was getting

myself into. A word from her would have made me hesitate, but no,

she let me go, let me talk myself into it. And then I knew what

that look was. She was laying low, waiting, ready for the winner.

“Lily ass punk, I’m gonna kick you outta my office.” He reached

down with his big hands and pulled me up off the couch by the

collar. My heart was beating like a rabbit, I was fighting for

breath. My feet were lifted off the floor, and he must have done

this with one hand, because the other hand was drawn back in a fist.

I could see the flash of his gold rings on thick wide knuckles. I

couldn’t look away because the rings had sharp points, jagged razor

like edges, made to tear up the face of a victim. I felt like I

would throw up, and I began to feel dizzy with the stress and fear.

Tammy went up to him, put her hands on his big shoulders, and said,

“Please don’t hurt him.” ThatТs what I was reduced to. He threw me

down on the couch like a sack of shit. My pants were wet. Tammy

looked at the wet spot in my pants and I saw a look of disgust, of

revulsion, on her face. With a look like, that, I knew she was gone

forever. Brock looked at Tammy, pointed down at me and said, “Thinks

he’s gonna tell me what I can’t do.”

He walked over to her, and said softly, “Why you wasting your time

with this loser?” She had no answer. “You need a man to take care

of you, protect you, not the other way around”. He walked slowly,

easily over to his desk, completely unconcerned that he was turning

his back on me. He opened a desk drawer, and took out a long dark

box, and then came up to her and said, “Here. This is for you”. As

she opened it, he was standing behind her, caressing her shoulders.

I could see that his big hands had long, sensual fingers. She opened

the box, and her mouth opened in a small “Oh”, and as she saw his

gift. I could see the jewels in the necklace and a look of joy in

her bright eyes. He drew it from her hand, and then, slowly, moved

behind her, and with smooth, languorous, almost reverent movements

draw it tight around her neck. “A fine lady needs to wear fine

jewels.”

It didn’t matter that he probably had a drawer full of these things,

ready to charm whatever piece of ass that walked into his office.

What mattered was that it probably cost two years of my pay, and she

never had anything so nice before, something to show her friends, a

symbol of a mans devotion. As he closed it around her, he kissed her

on the neck. She wasn’t drawing away, just looking off into some

distant, inner landscape. He kept planting small kisses all along he

sides of her neck. When he put his lips into her ear, and started

whispering to her, she rested her head back against his shoulder.

She broke into a bright smile as she heard his whispers. One of her

hands was absently feeling the necklace on her neck, and she reached

back with the other hand and caressed the side of his face. The

bitch!

It was like I wasn’t there anymore. He was moving on her like an

expert, kissing her neck, and as he moved from her neck up her ear

her head drew back in pleasure. He reached into her dress and

started squeezing her breasts. Biting softly on her ears,

whispering. I could make out a few phrases: “…make you feel real

good…”, “…deep inside…”, and, as he slid his hands down

towards her crotch, “…feel that fine, soft pussy…” When his

hands got there, she closed her eyes, and she bit her lower lip.

“…want a real man to give you a baby..,” her chest heaved.

She turned toward him and put both arms over his big shoulders. She

stood high on her toes. She was whispering back to him now, and

while she nuzzled her face against his cheek he was pawing her ass.

She drew back and started to undo his tie. She turned and looked me

straight in the eye. So bold, so hot she was. The smirk was gone,

here was a woman who found what she needed. For months I was trying

to get her like this, trying to break through her reserve, and even

though her creamy pussy didn’t want me the sight of her like this

got me hot. His silk tie made a whistling sound as she pulled it

off. When she undid all the buttons of his shirt, and spread it

open it to expose his torso, I could see the excitement in her face.

His body was spectacular, all lean, tight muscle, chiseled like

polished black granite.

He took her hand and pushed it down in his pants, and I could see

the interest on her face as she felt his big tool. I could see her

hand moving inside his pants. I was shut down now, in shock from a

sort of overload. A part of me was trying to estimate how big his

prick was, by inspecting the range of motion of her hands. She

reached her other hand down, and opened his belt, and then got down

on her knees to pull his pants down.

The man had reason to be proud. It wasn’t even fully erect yet,

but it was already much larger than any other dick I’ve seen. And

very wide. My wife was kneeling now, just a foot or so from it, and

I wondered how much of it she could take.

“Suck my cock, baby!”, and slowly, slowly she brought her lips

closer to it. When she finally touched it, and started to draw the

length of it inside her mouth, I felt an electric surge move through

my body. The push of that big, black Johnson into her mouth was hot

stuff. My cock surged against my wet pants, as I saw her lips

stretching, watching her resist the impulse to gag as she took as

much as she could in her throat.

She never did this for me. For months I was bringing her along

slowly, respectfully, being careful not to sully her with my carnal

needs. I knew now that I was a fool – what she really wanted was a

man to take her without asking. She was going down eagerly, working

like a coke whore on the biggest, meanest guy I had ever seen. He

was getting the treatment, the silky lip, soft tongue, careful slow

suck that is the wet dream of every man. Every few minutes she would

slide him out of her mouth, and then lower her face so she could

tickle first one ball, then the other, with her long, wet tongue.

When she would do this I would hear him murmur, “You are one fine

bitch”. Then she would slide him back into her mouth, and then

stare directly at me. My cock was burning.

Once he draw her up, and then whispered something in her ear. I saw

her nod, and he walked back over to me. “Get yo ass up off my

couch!” I got up sheepishly; Tammy took her skirt and panties

off, laid back on the couch, lifting her legs high and wide,

exposing her hairy cunt to us. But no, it wasn’t to us, it was to

him. He undressed, slowly, savoring his conquest, enjoying the

opportunity for some more insults. “Here, hold these,” handing me

his pants and shirt. I just stood there, unable to move, but not

really wanting to anymore either. I wanted to watch it happen, I

wanted to see him do Tammy. My excitement showed, Brock noticed my

hard cock inside my wet pants. “Tammy, get a load of that little

thing there, all ready for action!” They both laughed, and as I

stood there, holding his clothes, he climbed on top of her.

I could see her face beneath his hard back and shoulders. She was

all red, her lips were flushed with passion, and she stared up at

him as she reached for his big thing and positioned it at her gates.

He pushed the tip in, and he said, “C’mon girl, put your legs up

over my shoulders.” From my position I could see his ball sacs and

the long fat prick hanging down into her.

The air was electric. He started pushing in, and her face jumped, I

could almost feel the sharp pain, “No, Brock, you’re hurting me!!!”

“Guess you ain’t used to real meat, bitch!. Man, you tight like a

teenybopper, ain’t really been done yet!” he wasn’t stopping, he

continued to drive in, slowly, even though she was crying out in

pain. It seemed like he was being deliberately slow, enjoying the

feel of breaking her wide open. It seemed like an eternity, watching

the length of his Johnson plunge into her, spreading her out

underneath him, settling his body full on her wide open ass.

Finally, he was all the way in, and he stopped a moment and gave her

a gentle kiss on her forehead. “There now, it only hurt cause you

ain’t used to me, but you be OK, you’re mine now”

She just looked over at me, glassy eyed. He held her tight by her

shoulders, she was pinned under him as he started pumping. She was

helpless, but it really didn’t matter, because I could see she was

over the edge, that sweet spot where the pain turns into surrender.

“Oh, Brock!” Now she was digging it, enjoying the stab of his love

tool deep down inside. Her mouth was pressed against his hard

shoulder, she was giving him little love bites. “Oh, God, that feels

good! Fuck, that big cock feels good!!”

“Man, Tammy, you be one sweet cunt! So nice and tight!”

Oh, I loved the sight of her, watching the way she gasped with every

thrust, watching her be carried to the edge, hissing her pleasure

like a wild animal. She was looking up at him, and I could see her

cheeks were wet. They were tears of pleasure.

Brock stopped for a moment, Just when she was ready, just at that

moment when he knew she was right there, almost ready to explode

inside, he stopped thrusting and looked at her. He knew just what

to do, how to use this moment, this ache he aroused in her.

He looked into her crying eyes, and brought his face down within an

inch of her, and gave her the sweetest, gentle little kiss on her

lips, and whispered, “You like this, baby?”

“Y-y-y-yes,”, softly, like a prayer.

And he answered with a soft wet kiss. “You’ll be my girl from now

on?”

“Y-y-y-yes,” loving what she heard.

“You be my bitch?”

“Y-y-yes, I do, I want that”

I thought I’d burst from passion, I felt like I was witness to some

dark, sinful intimacy. I loved it too, feeling a vicarious pleasure

at the treatment the man was getting from her, watching the smooth

way he played her. I started to rub myself as I listened,

forgetting the humiliation, caught up in the sparks that flew

between them.

“I like my bitches be always there, case my dick get hard, need some

sweet lovin, some o dat there sugar you got inside”

“Oh, Jesus, I want to be the one you come to, oh, Christ, Brock, I

love feeling your big dick inside me!!” He was hearing what he

wanted, and he started moving again, slowly pulling and pushing that

big thing inside her.

“Gonna shoot you full of my baby juice, your belly be full of me!”

“Ohhhhh, Brock, I want you baby, oh you mean stud, pump it deep

inside, I want your baby!!” She was coming, I saw a big smile of

satisfaction on his face as she said let loose. I came at the same

time she did, loving the sight of the big man in action.

That was a long time ago. He still comes over our house at least

once a week. My job is to keep his son quiet, because Brock gets

pissed off if his cries disturb his lovemaking, and all I have to do

is feel my dentures with my tongue to remind me of what he’s like

when he gets upset.

When he calls and says he’s coming I help Tammy get ready for him.

I brush her hair, and help her put on the jewelry he’s bought for

her. I now give expert pedicures. I make sure dinner is almost

ready when he arrives, the table is set, and the crystal is

polished. When he arrives, I meet him at the door, wearing an

apron. When I bring them their drinks in the living room, she’s

already laying in his big arms. My abuse is now part of their

foreplay, he loves to tease me and she loves to watch. Its a long

drawn out scene, he starts slowly, talking about how silly I look,

and criticizing the way I keep “his” house. He’ll ask Tammy if I’ve

made any moves on her since he was there last. And even though I

wouldnТt dare, she always lies, she turns to him and whispers in his

ear about some indiscretion I’ve committed. Whispers while she’s

looking right at me, and I see a little smug smile on her face.

Brock will smile too, almost laugh, he knows its a lie, but its his

cue to get ph ysical. He gets up ad grabs me, holding me with one

hand while he bitch-slaps me with the other. He’ll slap me till I

cry, Tammy laying there all happy inside, her juices flowing at the

sight of her manin action.

All night long I sit with his son, hovering nearby in case he wakes.

But sometimes, when he’s in a deep sleep, I slip away, and walk

towards “our” bedroom. I wait outside and listen carefully, and some

sick instinct in me makes me stroke myself as I listen to them. I

can hear her deep breathing, and I imagine the scene in my mind, the

bulk of him on top of her, the shudder of pleasure in her face as

the big man drives into her. She’s not religious at all anymore, it

seems all she wants that big dick pushing into her, stretching the

soft skin on her insides, filling her with his precious seed.

I love the mornings best of all. When I wheel their breakfast in,

more often than not they’re still at it. As I push the bedroom door

open I can see her red nails on his big black ass, urging him deeper

into her. Her hand urge him in, even through she screams like she’s

in pain. “Oh Christ, Brock no!” He loves that, loves to feel like

his woman can’t take him. I know their games, I’ve heard every

shout and gasp of their lovemaking, and I’m rock hard as I listen

and pour their coffee.