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.