0 comments/ 262651 views/ 56 favorites A Wife, A Slut, An Addict By: rickspindrift Introduction The story you are about to read is exactly as it was related to me by Shannon. The only modifications made were for grammatical purposes and, in a few cases, to resolve some internal inconsistencies. The names were changed to protect the innocent (and the guilty). She claimed every word was true, but I have no evidence other than her statements. You will have to decide for yourself. The introductory paragraph following this one is the only part that was actually written by Shannon. I wrote the rest of the story from a number of sessions with her and a tape recorder. Hi. I'm Shannon. I'm a recovering slut. I'm recovering in the same sense that an alcoholic that hasn't had a drink in two years is recovering. He's still an alcoholic, but he no longer drinks. My therapist says that it is the same for me, and always will be. Just as an alcoholic is still one, despite the fact that he hasn't had a drink in 20 years, I will always be a slut, even if I never again give in to those desires. Maybe my story can serve as a warning to all those potential sluts out there, but that's not why it exists. I worked with Rick to write this as part of my therapy. My therapist says that writing it all out in detail will help accelerate my recovery. I don't know if that's true, but telling the whole thing did feel, I don't know exactly, like I could breath again. In any case, good or bad, here it is. Chapter I - I Meet my Inner Slut My name is Shannon. I'm 32 years old, a wife and a working woman. And I'm a slut. I didn't always know that truth about myself. Until recently, I thought I was a normal, upstanding, moral member of our community. But now I know the deeper, hidden truth. This is the story of how I came to learn that truth. It started not long ago when we hired Joe to help out with the gardening and odd jobs around the house. He was a kid from the neighborhood, 21 and out of high school a few years. My husband is out of town on business a lot, and there was always something that needed doing. I was never quite sure how my husband met Joe, but I certainly didn't care. He seemed good with his hands, and he sure was easy on the eyes. Joe is what you would call a Hunk, with a capital H. Six foot one, broad shoulders, narrow hips, hard muscles, great smile, and an even better ass. He usually wore tight jeans or shorts, and that made it very hard to ignore the very large bulge in his crotch. A bulge large enough to get this lady wondering about exactly what lived down there. Despite the fact that I'm pretty good-looking, I've never been very confident with men. I think my nervousness is left over from an early "ugly duckling" period in grade school, but who knows. In any case, I've always had a tendency to over compensate by flirting. I meet someone new, feel a little uncertain, so I flirt, even tease a bit. It all feels very innocent to me, just a little smile, a touch, an "innocent" comment, but I guess it can be taken wrong. I was very nervous when I was first introduced to Joe. I don't think I've ever known anyone that was half as striking as he is. So maybe I teased a bit more than I usually do. I'd say something, he'd try to respond, and then I'd cut him off. It was easy for me, as anytime I wanted, I could end it by walking into the house. It became a game, at least for me. Just a bit of a laugh. I guess he didn't take it that way. As I said before, I'm 32 years old. I have medium length, auburn hair. I'm 5' 6", 116 pounds, with a very nice figure that I work at keeping in shape. Since men always seem to want the stats, they are 35-24-34 with a cup that's on the edge between C and D. I may not be 24 anymore, but I'm proud to say that despite their fullness, my breasts still show only a hint of sag. My tits have always seemed a bit big for my frame, but I've been told by many men that I could model for some of those magazines, so I guess that's not bad. Anyway, my "game" with Joe went on each Saturday for a number of weeks. I'd find a reason to go out in the yard while he was working there, wearing something that showed off my body. Nothing too obvious, just things like shorts and a shirt tied up under my bust, or a blouse that showed some cleavage and a pair of tight jeans. I forgot to mention it, but I've always thought that my ass was my best asset. My husband has always told me my breasts are, but I like showing off my rear better. The game was to catch him looking at me, and then to give him that secret smile that says, "ah ha, caught you." He tried to ignore me, but eventually I would catch him looking. What he didn't know, and what I wouldn't admit even to myself, was how excited my little game got me. Each time I caught him looking, a little jet of lubrication would shoot into my pussy. A couple of times I got hot enough so that my panties got wet, and I would have to hurry inside before anything might show. Of course, I pretended to myself that it was just a little innocent fun, but even then, deep down inside, I knew that more was happening that I wanted to admit. The particular Saturday that it all came to a head, my husband had gone to a ball game with a couple of friends. I had put on a pair of very old, very short cutoffs. I knew that when I bent over, you could see a bit of my panties. This time, I came up with an excuse to do some planting in the area where Joe was working, so it would be really hard for him not to look at me. This time, his reaction was not at all what I expected. As I bent over in front of him for the third time, he turned to me and said, "Look lady, I really don't have the time for your bullshit today. I've got a lot to do, so could you take it somewhere else." I was taken aback, and I think I blushed a bit, but I tried to put on a bold front - "I don't believe I understand what you mean." "You know exactly what I mean" and he turned away, back to his work. Well, this really pissed me off, as I thought he had stepped outside of the rules of our little game. (Of course, he had never agreed to these rules, but that didn't matter to me.) I thought I would teach him a good lesson, so I went back into the house and changed. I took off my blouse and put on a really old shirt that was so thin it was almost transparent. At the last second, I decided that this wasn't enough, so I took off my bra and panties too. This felt like a bit much, but since the garden is enclosed and very private, only he would see. I'd put on a real show for him. Let him sweat a little! The thought of him looking at my body dressed like this had me pretty excited, but I ignored that. I shouldn't have. I went back outside and sashayed near to where he was working. I got a reaction all right, but it wasn't what I had expected. He turned and looked right at me. In fact, he stared. The way he stared at me was just incredible. So direct. No hiding or looking away. He started at my feet, and his eyes slowly crawled up me until he was staring into my eyes. He seemed to look right through me, like he could see everything. Like he was measuring me, both inside and out. It made me shiver. It made me wet. I couldn't believe how turned on I was getting just from having him look at me, and I refused to think about what it might mean. I looked away and started walking back to the house. I let my hips sway just a bit more than normal, to pay him back a little more. I tried to say, "go ahead, look. You can't touch anyway." I'd find out in just a few minutes how wrong I was. I went to get a drink of water to try and cool off the fire that was building in me, but it didn't do much good. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't stop seeing that gorgeous ass of his. And that bulge in his pants. I looked down and realized that my pussy was so wet, my juices were starting to show through my shorts. I thought I better go change. Just then there was a short knock at the kitchen door. When I opened it, there stood Joe. The sweat glistened on his hard chest and washboard stomach. He asked for a glass of water. I said, "sure, help yourself" and stepped aside so he could come in. He closed the door and started for the sink, and then turned and gave me another look, from my feet up into my eyes, pausing briefly at my damp crotch. As if to deny what he saw, I gave him back my teasing smile. He took a step toward me and we were suddenly face to face. He said, "You think you're quite a cockteaser, but we all know that a cockteaser is just a slut waiting to happen. What you need is this." He unzipped his fly and pulled out the biggest cock I'd ever seen. It was only semi-hard, and it was already at least 7 inches. I was stunned. I'm not sure to this day why I didn't scream and run right then. If I had, my life would be a lot different, but I didn't. Maybe it was the jolt that ran from my tits to my pussy, the jolt that made me gush a whole new batch of pussy juice. I just stood there and stared, as, in the next few seconds, that monster grew to at least 9 inches, no, more like 10. It was so big around I'm sure I couldn't hold it in one hand. It was magnificent. Just as I started to come to my senses, he took my face in both hands and kissed me harder than I'd ever felt before. He moved so fast I didn't even have a chance to think of stopping him. While his lips ground into mine, his cock ground into my mound, fanning my fire. That's when I realized how much trouble I was in. I pulled my mouth away and was finally going to scream, when he grabbed my by the waist and threw me down onto the kitchen table. God, he was strong! As I hit the table, my breath was knocked out of me for a second. It was all happening so fast, my mind was in a blur. Before I could recover my breath, he pulled open my shorts and dragged them right off of me. Finally, the reality struck me - I was going to be raped! But the image of that huge cock being shoved into my pussy flashed into my mind, and the biggest erotic jolt that I've ever felt flashed through my body. And just as this image hit me, he grabbed both legs inside the knee, pulled them wide, and pushed them up to my tits. Just as I got my breath back, I felt the knob of his cock at the entrance to my pussy. I felt completely exposed, completely open, completely helpless, and completely on fire. I have never felt so confused. The "good wife" part of me, the only part of me I had ever known, wanted to scream, fight back, anything, but that other secret self, the part that started me teasing him to begin with, wanted that cock. As I felt the first couple of inches enter me, I think I was more afraid, more panicked, more turned on, and more wet than I have ever been. Shit, I wasn't hot, I was in heat. Despite that, the "good wife" yelled, (but not all that loud) "no, stop." He just replied, 'Bullshit, baby, don't tell me that. You're so wet, you're practically pulling me in." He started shoving more and more of that incredible cock into my hot, wet cunt. Each stroke went deeper. 3 inches, 4 inches, then 5. God was he big! 6 inches, 7. "Christ, is your cunt tight. You're going to be a great bitch." I didn't know what he meant then, but I learned. All this time (it was really only a few seconds, but it seemed like eternity) I couldn't move. It was just overwhelming. Now he had 8 inches in, now 8 1/2, and finally with one last thrust, he buried the whole of that prick deep into my drooling pussy, until I could feel his pubic hair mingle with mine, and his balls slap into my ass. I let out a long moan. I'd never felt anything like this before. I felt stuffed to the breaking point, but complete in a way I never had before. He touched every part of me there was to touch. All at the same time. I think I had a little orgasm right then, but it was all so unreal I wasn't even sure if I had come. Then he started sliding his cock in and out. He pulled slooowly out, and then slid slooowly back until his balls slapped my ass again. He continued at that slow, deliberate pace. It was tantalizing, agonizing, tormenting. I wanted him to stop, I wanted him to go faster, I didn't know what I wanted. I moaned again, "Oh, oooooohhhh, God, No, No, oooooohhhhh." He knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted me to have the time to realize just how much I needed this. I think it was right then that the "good wife" started to understand just how real the slut in me was. He started moving a little faster, but every stroke was the full length of his prick. I stopped any pretense of fighting. I started moving my hips, picking up his rhythm. I didn't care any more what I had to admit about myself as I did that, I just couldn't stop. It felt soooooooo good. So right. He let go of my legs, and instinctively I wrapped them around his waist. He grabbed my breasts through that thin shirt, and started using them as handles as he picked up the pace. Now we were really fucking, or rather he was fucking me and I was hanging on for dear life. Not only was I stuffed with more cock than I ever believed existed, but I had never felt anyone as strong and powerful. He was like an elemental force. He tore open my blouse, and started playing with my boobs. My nipples were like rocks. When I get really turned on, my nipples get so hard and long that they are just plain lewd. Now they were as hard as his cock, and at least 3/4 of an inch long. He twisted each one, and then both together. The mix of pain and pleasure drove me even more nuts. Then he leaned over and started sucking on them, moving back and forth between them, never stopping his pounding motion, which had been getting faster and faster. I started yelling, "Yes, yes, yesssss, oh my God yesssssss, oh, ohhh, ooooohhhhhh" and my first real orgasm took me by surprise and ripped right through me. I hadn't felt the usual build up, I just exploded. It was intense, and fast. It passed quickly, almost too quickly. As I got my breath again, the "good wife" thought, well, he'll finish soon and at least it will be done. He'd been screwing me now for a good 10 minutes, which is just about as long as my husband (or any of the few other men that I had had before we married) ever lasted, so I figured he would come soon and be done - cum soon? OH MY GOD. I just realized that he wasn't wearing any protection, and I wasn't on the pill! I yelled, "wait, wait. Don't come in me. Please, please, you'll get me pregnant." He just smiled that slow smile of his and said, "Shit, that's you're problem. I don't care if I do. I'm going to fill that sweet, hot pussy of yours with more cum than you've ever had." And when he said that, God help me, but another of those electric jolts went right through me, from my tingling tits to my stuffed box. I couldn't believe it, but somehow the thought of him impregnating me only added to my fire. "But we got a ways to go yet" and he started pumping me even faster. It was like he settled down to work, pumping continuously, and faster than anyone else I had ever slept with. You would think I would start to dry out and hurt, but I just kept getting hotter and wetter. Now I could feel my second orgasm start to build. It got bigger and bigger, swept me higher and higher. "He's got to come soon, no one has this much control" I thought, but he just kept shoving that huge meat deep into my core, slowly but steadily increasing his pace. In another minute he brought me to my second orgasm, slower, longer and even more powerful than the first. It's a good thing that he closed the door, because I screamed as I came. My nipples burned, my pussy spasmed, I bucked and humped against him, and he just kept pumping more diamond hard cock into me. I was in another world. Now I was yelling continuously, "Yes, yessss, more, fuck me more, harder, faster, oh god, ohhhhhhhh, yes fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." The little part of my brain that was still working couldn't believe what I was doing. I never use language like that (at least out loud), even when my husband brings me to orgasm. Still he fucked me, faster, harder, even more wonderful every second. I'd lost track of time, I'd lost track of where I was, who I was, everything. The only thing I knew was the sensations flooding my body, my tits, and my slobbering cunt. The feel of his hands on me, his mouth on me, his big hard cock in me. And that was getting bigger! It wasn't possible, it couldn't be, but it was. His cock got even larger, even harder. I heard him start to grunt softly as he kept screwing, and then I started to come again. This time, it wasn't just one orgasm, it was a whole series, one after another, never stopping, just going on and on and on. "Aghhhhhhhh, yaghhhhhh, ugh, uhhhh, ohhhhhh," the sounds I was making didn't even sound human anymore. I just came and came and came. The experts say it isn't possible, that you can't cum continuously for 5 minutes, but I found out that day, on my kitchen table, that they don't know shit, because that's exactly what happened. And then, finally, right through the heat of that awesome continuous orgasm, I heard him yell, "Shit yes, I'm coming into your tight bitch cunt, Oh, yeah, here it comes, yesssss" and I felt the crown of his prick swell, and then he was filling my pussy with load after load of hot sperm. His cock spat over and over again, and as he pumped into me slower and slower, his massive hammer pushed that amazing load of come around my exhausted pussy and down my thighs in thick streams. He pulled out of me, and I lay on the table, too stunned and tired to move. Slowly I started to return to reality from that other world of extreme pleasure where he had sent me. My eyes fluttered open and I saw the clock over the sink, above his head. I couldn't believe what I saw, but there it was. He had fucked me continuously, like a steam hammer, for more than 40 minutes. I realized that I was still lying there, completely exposed to him, with his come dripping from my pussy, onto the table, and down my ass and thighs. That's when the "good wife" started to assert herself again. I pushed myself up, off the table and started to tell him what I was going to do about his raping me, how I was going to call the police and, well, I wasn't exactly coherent at that point, just babbling. He just smiled his slow smile at me and said, "Yeah, right." With that he grabbed me by my hair at the back of my neck and pulled me toward him and down. "C'mon, you're not finished yet" and he pushed me down onto my knees in front of him. He pulled me right in front of him so his prick was inches away from my mouth and said, "Clean it up, bitch. Clean my cock and balls with that slut mouth of yours. Get busy." I couldn't believe my ears. I would never even touch my husband's cock after we had sex, let alone take it in my mouth. I always made him wash himself clean. Now he wanted me to suck his come and my pussy juice off his tool. That's just when the slut showed up again. If I didn't believe my ears a moment ago, I couldn't even think about what was happening to me right then. As he held my face in front of his cock and I smelled that incredible musk made up of his sweat, my sweat, his semen, and my juice, my pussy started creaming again. For the first time, I thought to myself, "He was right! I am a slut. Only a slut would get turned on by this." But turned on was exactly what was happening. Another person seemed to take over my body, as I slowly leaned over and extended my tongue to lick along the underside of his prick. I licked up the underside and down the topside. I had never tasted my own juices before, but I had been so wet that they were everywhere. I guess I could see a little of why my husband liked to eat me, 'cause it tasted pretty good. I had never really tasted sperm before either, except a little pre-come now and then. I never let my husband come in my mouth. It wouldn't have been ladylike. Now I was licking up large gobs from his prick and balls. It made me feel disoriented with shock, but I liked it. Hell, I loved it. Without him saying anything, I took the end of his cock into my mouth and started to suck on it. He was back to that semi-hard state that it started in when he took it out of his pants, but it was still an awful lot to swallow. I think I surprised him, but he just looked down at me and chuckled, "Jeez, you're not just a slut, you're an all time slut. Awright! Go for it, girlie." I started sliding his dick in and out of my mouth, taking as much as I could comfortably fit. I swirled my tongue along the underside as I bobbed my head up and down. The more I sucked, the wetter I got. I grasped his cock in my hands near the base. I needed both hands to get all the way around it, and as he started getting harder again both of them were hardly enough. He wasn't just big, he was enormous. He started getting larger and larger in my mouth, and it became a challenge just to see if I could keep the end of his prick in my mouth at all. A Wife, A Slut, An Addict Ch. 2 Introduction The story you are about to read is exactly as it was related to me by Shannon. The only modifications made were for grammatical purposes and, in a few cases, to resolve some internal inconsistencies. The names were changed to protect the innocent (and the guilty). She claimed every word was true, but I have no evidence other than her statements. You will have to decide for yourself. The introductory paragraph following this one is the only part that was actually written by Shannon. I wrote the rest of the story from a number of sessions with her and a tape recorder. Hi. I'm Shannon. I'm a recovering slut. I'm recovering in the same sense that an alcoholic that hasn't had a drink in two years is recovering. He's still an alcoholic, but he no longer drinks. My therapist says that it is the same for me, and always will be. Just as an alcoholic is still one, despite the fact that he hasn't had a drink in 20 years, I will always be a slut, even if I never again give in to those desires. Maybe my story can serve as a warning to all those potential sluts out there, but that's not why it exists. I worked with Rick to write this as part of my therapy. My therapist says that writing it all out in detail will help accelerate my recovery. I don't know if that's true, but telling the whole thing did feel, I don't know exactly, like I could breath again. In any case, good or bad, here it is. Chapter II - A Bitch is Born I was in a daze for most of the next week. It was all I could do to pull it together when my husband was home. Fortunately, he was near a deadline for a big project and had to work late every night, so I didn't see much of him. We made love twice during the week, and it was fine, but nowhere near the volcanic experience that I had survived with Joe. My "good wife" kept telling me not to compare them, but I couldn't help it. I think it's true that a man's ability is more important than his equipment, but I also think that the old boxing theory is true too, that a good big man will beat a good little man every time. It wasn't just that Joe was so large, it was also how he handled himself that made the experience so mind boggling. The combination of his size, strength, stamina, and knowledge was unbeatable. So sorry guys, while it's true that size all by itself isn't the end all and be all, it's also true that size DOES matter. The "good wife" kept trying to convince me that it didn't but the slut knew better. That battle went on all week, all the time I was alone. The "good wife" kept trying to convince me that it was just once, and if I didn't do anything else it would be all right. I could put it behind me, go back to my pleasant existence with my husband, and forget it ever happened. But the slut just kept laughing at me, making my tits and pussy itch with need, telling me that I had to have more. Thoughts zipped back and forth in my head endlessly, impossible to sort out. "You're a good girl. You love your husband. Forget it. Never again." "Who are you kidding. You're so hot for that cock you'll do anything to get more." One thought after another, over and over. But as Tuesday slipped into Wednesday and Wednesday into Thursday, the passions stirred up Joe slowly started to recede. On Friday I used one of those early warning pregnancy tests. I found out I had escaped my decent into adultery without permanent penalty. This was the sign for the "good wife" to reassume complete control. We resolved never to go near Joe again. It was a one time thing, and that was all. Yes, it had been exciting, but it wasn't that special. (You can almost convince yourself of anything if you try long and hard enough.) Friday night was the second time that week I had sex with my husband. I worked extra hard that night to make our loving something special. Afterwards, as I drifted off to sleep, I decided that it had been just as good as that day with Joe. Yes, I said all those things to myself, and the "good wife" nodded and said, "See, I told you so," but deep down somewhere, as buried as she might be, the slut was still laughing, and still craving more. Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. My husband left very early, still trying to bring his project in on time. I was left alone to deal with Joe. My first resolve was not to get involved in any games with him, as that had led to my first downfall. I put on a pair of full size cotton panties, as plain, ordinary, prim, proper and sexless as could be. I followed that with a support bra that would make it impossible to see any details of my breasts. I then put on a full length sundress that buttoned up the front. It was pretty, but completely lacking any sex appeal. Running shoes and socks completed my armor. Dressed like this, no one could accuse me of leading anyone on or being a cockteaser. So why was my pussy damp? Maybe the images of Joe's ass that I couldn't stop flashing through my mind might explain it. Right then, I remembered that I had intended on going on the pill to prevent any possibility of pregnancy, but in all of my conflicting thoughts, I had never done anything to get a prescription. The thought that Joe could still impregnate me sent a jolt of raw eroticism racing through me, perking up my nipples and making my juices flow even more. Never mind, said the "good wife," he's not going to get anywhere near you, so it won't matter at all. Nevertheless, as 11:00 approached, the time that Joe usually appeared the whole gamut of emotions started racing through my head once again. I busied myself with housework and forced myself to stop looking at the clock. The next time I went to the kitchen, it was 11:30 and I could hear sounds of yardwork outside. I walked over to the kitchen window and there he was, shirt off and sweat already gleaming on his back. Looking at him, the hunger started to well up in me, but I suppressed it as hard as I could. I decided that I couldn't just ignore him. I had to tell him that we would never do what we did last week again, and that he had better never say anything to anyone. I would just say that he was lying, bragging for his friends. After all, there wasn't any evidence of my adultery. I opened the kitchen door and walked out into the yard, determined to get this over with. But with every step that I took closer to Joe, my heart beat faster and my skin felt hotter. As I got close to him, he turned to look at me and that slow smile of his lit up his face. I was ready to wipe that smile from his face, but as I stepped up to him, the breeze brought me a whiff of his odor. The smell alone was almost enough to make me moan, and it was enough to make my cunt gush enough juice to wet my panties. Thank god that my bra prevented him from seeing the state of my nipples. I clasped my hands together to stop them from shaking. I was happy to hear that my voice sounded steady as I told him that last week was an aberration that could not happen again. I said that I could understand how he might have gotten the wrong perception of me, and how it could make him do something that he had no right to do. I said that I was sorry if he thought I had led him on, but I hadn't intended that at all. I continued that, given the circumstances, I was willing to drop the matter, and not involve anyone else, but it had to end right there. Lastly, I told him that all things considered, I thought it best for all concerned that he did not come into the house anymore. I had managed to get through everything I wanted to say, but now I needed to get away from him quick, before I lost my control. My emotions were in a whirl, all mixed up. I just knew that if I stayed there for another second, if he got any idea of how aroused I was, I would never get away. I turned to head for the house, and safety for the "good wife," when he grabbed my shoulder and turned me back toward him. He said, "that's okay, right here is fine with me" and grabbed me by the face and kissed me hard, just like last Saturday in the kitchen. The thought hit me, "oh no! Not again!" but my heart was pounding and I was on fire from head to foot. You wouldn't think one kiss could have an effect like that, but everything from a week ago came flooding back. My nipples stood all the way up, my pussy gushed again, and I couldn't catch my breath. I stood there in his arms, stunned, and then he whirled me around so my back was to him, and pushed me forward hard. I lost my balance and fell down onto the grass, on my hands and knees. I couldn't think. What was he doing, what was happening? But as I felt my dress being thrown up over my head, it hit me. He was going to take me right here, in the backyard, right out in the open. I tried to crawl away, saying, "no, not here, they'll hear everything, please not..." but he wrapped one arm around my waist and disposed of those nice, prim and proper cotton panties in his usual, very direct, way. He grabbed them by the crotch and ripped them right off of me, tearing them apart. The strength in his hands was incredible. Just the feel of his power made my pussy gush again. The juice started to drip down the inside of my thighs, right in front of him. This time there was no inch by inch start. He pulled me up against him and took me doggie style, right there on the back lawn. On his first thrust, his cock head separated my pussy lips and he penetrated me with half his length. A second thrust, and then a third, and he had impaled me on the full length of his massive cock. From this angle, it speared even further into me than the last time. I could feel the tip of his prick up against my cervix. A sharp cry broke from my lips. "Ughhhh, no, I can't take it, ohhhhhhh." But I could take it, and I wanted it. As deep as he could shove it in me. There was no pretense now. He started pumping hard and fast, and I pumped right with him. I was deathly afraid the neighbors would hear, but I couldn't stop moaning. He said, with a laugh, "I better help you shut up" and he grabbed the panties that he had ripped off my body, still wet with my cunt juice, and shoved them into my mouth. I started to spit them out, but he slapped my ass, hard, and said, "leave them there." Something about the tone in his voice made me obey. Those few moments had distracted me, but they hadn't distracted him at all. He just kept fucking me, hard and fast, all the way out and all the way in, each thrust like a hammer blow to my sopping pussy. I couldn't believe how much I loved it. We weren't having sex, he was using me for his pleasure in the most straightforward, animalistic way possible, and I loved every second. I picked up his rhythm again, pushing back at him as he thrust forward, making each stroke as hard and glorious as possible. Now I could feel my orgasm building, coming faster and faster. One stroke more, two, three, four and I came with a mind-numbing explosion. I couldn't move, I couldn't yell, I couldn't do anything but hang on as wave after wave rolled over me. Of course, none of that affected him in the least. He just kept screwing me, slowly accelerating his pace so I could never quite get used to the sensations that spread out all over me from my battered slit. He fucked me harder and harder, and the intensity grew and grew. The feel of the grass under my hands and knees, the smell of the fresh mown lawn, the cool breeze on my over heated, exposed skin, the strength of his hands on my waist, the rhythmic slap of his body against my ass, the fullness of my box stuffed with 10 inches of solid meat, the pussy nectar running down my thighs, all of my senses seem to blend together to overwhelm me. Just then, he reached up to the front of my sundress and ripped it open, exposing my bra. He sounded angry as he said, "damn, what is this crap. Don't ever wear this kinda underwear again, you hear? If it ain't sexy, I better not see it on you." With that he tore my bra off me by grabbing the front and pulling until the clasp on the back gave way. Now my tits hung free and clear, bouncing with the impulse of his driving jabs. He took one in each hand, kneading and working them until my nipples were as hard as diamonds again. "I love the way your nips get hard like this. Just like a slut's should." He then rolled and twisted them between his fingers, adding one more element to the deluge of lust that engulfed me. Of course, he never stopped or even lost his stride during this, even for a moment. His cock was relentless, as it drove me on and on, deeper and deeper into that place where the world left me and there was nothing but the feelings that his fucking made real. I'm really not sure how long this went on, I just know that at some point I started coming again, like the last time, but even deeper, longer, and harder. I screamed behind the gag, over and over again, out of control, as I came and came and came and came, seemingly forever. Somewhere during this, my arms gave out and I was face down in the grass. But he never let go of me, and he never stopped screwing me. And my orgasms, one blending right into the next, went on and on. At the end, I must have fainted for a bit. When I came to my senses, he had pulled out of me, and there were gobs of cum rolling down my thighs from my red, swollen, pussy lips. I looked around, and there he was standing over me, his cock still hanging free. He looked down at me, lying there on the grass, with my clothes torn apart and my pussy gushing his cum, and he laughed. "Ever heard someone say I'm going to fuck your brains out? Well, that's what they meant." And he laughed again. He was right, too. He had fucked my brains out. He pulled my panties out of my mouth, crooked his finger at me and said, "okay, finish up" and I knew exactly what he was expecting. I could hardly believe I managed it, but I got to my knees and quickly licked him clean. I was so exhausted from my orgasms that he had fucked out of me that I couldn't even think of finding the energy to blow him, even if the thought was exciting. That's how much the slut in me had taken over. As worn out as I was, I still was thinking about more. If I had known what was going to happen next, I would have found the strength to suck him off. "No blowjob today? Fine. Let's go in the house then, I'm not finished with your snatch yet." With that, he dragged me to my feet and propelled me toward the back door. I had just enough time to grab the discarded bra and panties as he pulled me up. As we entered the house, I practically begged him, "Please, please, just let me rest a minute. I can't, I just can't...." "Yeah, sure, no problem, you can rest in bed, bitch" and he laughed again. "Show me your bedroom." That was the last place I wanted to take this man, but it was clear to me now exactly who was in control, and I did as he told me. When we got to my bedroom, he told me to take off what was left of my clothing. There didn't seem to be any point in trying to refuse, so I threw the bar and panties on the bed and took off the sundress and my shoes and socks. For the first time, I was completely naked in front of him, but Joe was more interested in his surroundings. He looked around the room and whistled appreciatively. "Very nice." We had a king sized bed with an old fashioned brass headboard, a dressing room, walk in closets, and a huge bath with separate shower and jacuzzi tub. "I could get used to this," and he pushed me onto the bed. I lay across the bed, too tired to move. I still hadn't recovered from my extended orgasm. All I could do was lay there in front of him and try to catch my breath, and my wits. He didn't give me very long. After a minute of looking around our bedroom, he pushed me into the middle of the bed and got in beside me. I was lying on my side as he nuzzled up behind me and started kissing my neck and shoulders and running his hands all over my body, massaging, kneading, and fondling. From my hair to my back, my breasts and nipples, my ass and thighs, his hands roved all over. His touch ranged from butterfly light to deep and sharp. I'd never seen this side of Joe. I liked it. A lot. It was invigorating, restoring and sexy as hell. I thought that I should try and stop it, that I shouldn't just lie here and co-operate. And then I thought, "who am I kidding, he just spent the last hour with his dick in my cunt." Somehow, though, this felt more intimate, yet I didn't want him to stop. I was starting to get wet again. Every time he ran those strong hands over my nipples, they got just a bit harder. And every time he ran his hands over my ass and thighs, my twat got a little bit wetter. He gently pulled my shoulder toward him, and I rolled over to face him. He kissed me, and without even thinking I kissed him back. Our tongues mingled, explored, touched, melded. The flame that had started in my pussy exploded in my mind. I wanted him. It was in that moment that the "good wife" fled in defeat, knowing that the slut had won. I remembered again that every time he came in me, the chance of him impregnating me went up. It just made me hotter, more hungry for him. I realized that I had returned to full heat, my breasts swollen, my nibbles hard, my pussy lips enlarged, my box sopping and my clit erect. I looked into his eyes, and in a horse whisper said, "Please, fuck me, fuck me now. I need your cock in me right now." He just smiled his slow smile at me and put his hand over my mound. He slipped one finger into my slit, and then a second. As he slowly fingered me, he rubbed the heel of his palm around and around on my clit. He was showing me that he could make me boil over without his dick, and he was doing a great job. "Ahhh, yess, don't stop, ooooohhh" but just as I got near my climax he did stop. I was right at the edge, but not over, and he knew it. He waited a couple of minutes for me to cool a bit, kissing and sucking my nipples, and then he started again with his hand. Right to the edge, and then he stopped again. By the third time, I was so crazed that I reached my hand down to finish myself, but he took both of my wrists in one hand and stretched them out over my head. Then he waited a minute and started again with his other hand. His grip was like a vise. He was driving me insane, but there was absolutely nothing I could do except endure the sensations that were becoming so intense that the border between pleasure and pain seemed to blur. I was reduced to pleading, "oh, oh, god, please, please, I can't stand it, oh please I beg you, let me come, please ohhh, ohhh...." Just as he had done with his huge cock, he had reduced me to helplessness with his incredible hands. Finally, when I was well past the point where I thought it would ever end, he rolled over between my legs and took me to the hilt with one thrust. My pussy was awash in his come and my juices, so even his mammoth member didn't meet much resistance. When he hit bottom, I screamed at the top of my lungs and came. It was just one orgasm, not the endless string that I had had before, but it was as intense as anything I have ever felt. My entire body spasmed and heaved, completely beyond my control, as I was gripped in the center of a hurricane of climax. Eventually it started to subside, and I felt him start to slide in and out of me in that now familiar, compelling, inescapable cadence. I was stunned as I started to move with him, thinking that it was less than an hour since that marathon coupling on the back lawn and he was as hard as he had ever been, and moving just as fast. Each thrust pushed a little more cum from his previous discharge out onto my thighs. I had always been fastidious after sex with my husband, going to the bathroom right away to clean up, not wanting to have his cum dripping on me, but now the feel of it on my body just made me hotter still. After a few minutes, he let go of my hands and lifted my legs in front of his shoulders, giving him complete and easy access to my cunt and ass and making his prick go even deeper into my snatch. A Wife, A Slut, An Addict Ch. 2 Now I could feel him building me up to another climax, each thrust taking me a little higher and a little closer. I felt the fingers of his right hand slide along one of my thighs, scooping up some of the mixture of come and pussy juice that had been pushed from my cunt. At the same time, the other hand seized my wrists again and stretched them back over my head. With my cunt captured by his prick, my legs trapped against his shoulders, and my arms locked in his grip, I was completely immobilized. I found out why a moment later, when I felt his well lubricated middle finger start to press into my anus. It was just one more shock in a day filled with them, and you would think that by this time I would just accept whatever he was going to do, but he had been right in making sure I couldn't move. Somehow he had sensed that my asshole was completely virgin territory and that I would panic when he touched me there. I had never let any of my lovers, including my husband, anywhere near my rear entrance. I'm not sure why I was so afraid of any activity involving that, but I was. "NOOOOOOO" I screamed, and I tried to twist away from him, bucking and heaving as hard as I could, but I might as well have been trying to move Mt Everest. The way he had me held, and with his strength, he could do anything he wanted to me, and he knew it. He continued screwing me steadily as he moved his finger around and around my rosebud. He started stoking from the bottom end of my cunt down to my anus and back, and slowly the sensation calmed my fear. It didn't feel bad at all, I thought, if he's just going to rub me like that. Actually, it started to feel pretty good. Real good, as I started to sense that another orgasm was building inside me, driven by his incessant pounding of my pussy, and now helped along by his rubbing in those extremely sensitive areas. My climax was building fast, fed by that wonderful, unstoppable cock. Just as it broke over me, I felt his finger center on my asshole and push hard. The panic rose in me again, but it was drowned by waves of orgasm, and before I knew it, he had buried his finger all the way into my back passage. God, he was slick. He had timed things exactly, to use my orgasm to distract me so I couldn't try to resist his newest kind of penetration, and it had worked perfectly. Now he had full access to my ass, and he started thrusting his finger in and out of my back hole, perfectly in time with the thrusts of his massive cock in and out of my battered but sopping pussy. The sensation was strange to me, but somehow it just made the experience with him even hotter. I hated him for knowing this, and I loved him for making me feel it. "God, what else can he do to me" I thought, as yet another orgasm came crashing down on me, irresistible and wonderfully satisfying. I would find out in a few seconds. As I humped against him and moaned out my latest cum, he let go of my wrists. Before I realized what he was doing, he had picked up my torn bra and tied my wrists together. Then he tied them to the brass headboard of my bed. The thought, "now I'm completely helpless before him" raced through my head, and another erotic jolt reverberated through my body. I blushed hotly as I understood that somehow, being tied up had become a turn on. "How could he have made me into this much of a slut, this quickly?" Suddenly, he pulled out of me. For the first time, he had stopped his endless fucking before he came. I couldn't understand what was happening, but then he picked me up and rolled me over so I was face down on the bed. Oh, he just wanted to dog me again. Sure enough, he pushed my knees up under my body to open complete access to my box, and he re-entered me from behind. That familiar pattern of his pounding, slowly accelerating cock re-established itself, as did the finger up my asshole. It shows how completely the "good wife" had given over to the slut, when my first thoughts as he re-entered me were "Ahhhh, yes, oh yes, don't ever stop." I was starting to approach that region of endless orgasm when he shoved a second finger up my ass. He started rotating them around, stretching out my anus, but it never occurred to me why. Not until a minute later when he suddenly pulled his fingers and his cock out of me, placed his cockhead in my partially open asshole, and pushed!! The shock went right through me as it hit me like a bolt of lightening - he was going to sodomize me! I tried to clamp down with my sphincter muscle, but all the stretching that he had done, coupled with the speed of his attack, defeated my efforts. He had the head of his cock past my defenses before I could react. It hurt like fire, a numbing pain that spread outward from my ass. I sobbed, "please, please stop, to hurts so much" and started crying. He didn't stop of course. He said, "the pain will go away if you just force your ass to relax a bit. You're going to get it either way, so you might as well relax." He was making short stabs at my ass with his cock and hips while he was saying this, and I knew that he meant it, so I tried to relax the muscles as much as I could. Thank god he was right. As I managed to relax a bit, the searing pain eased a bit, making it possible to relax a little more. Of course, as I relaxed the muscles of my ass, he pushed more and more of his prick up inside me. A few minutes of this, and he had the entire length and width of his tool up my asshole. I groaned as he finished this feat. I couldn't believe how I had been so completely violated. He stopped moving for a minute, letting me adjust to his presence up my ass. He knew that with my hands tied to the headboard and his phallus lodged firmly inside my rear that I wasn't going anywhere. He moved his hand back over to my pussy and reinserted two fingers, slowly moving them in and out while stimulating my clit with his palm. Despite the pain that I had just endured, my twat was still sopping wet with a combination of his sperm and my juices. He moved his other hand back to my tits, kneading and massaging my firm globes, and tweaking my hard nipples. It didn't take more that a few seconds of this to rebuild the fire in me that he had started with the latest round of fucking. "That's it, relax, let it go" and I did as I was told, giving myself over to his marvelous stimulation. After a couple of minutes of this, when he knew I was hot and wet again (he probably got a clue from the involuntary moans that were coming from me) he started moving his member in and out of his recently captured prize. With my sphincter relaxed the pain had disappeared, and his motion didn't feel bad. God, it didn't feel bad at all. I couldn't believe it, but I started to respond to his motion. I tried to stop the movement of my hips, but the sensations flooding from my tits, clit, cunt, and yes, my ass as well, made it impossible. "OOOh, Oh no, no, ohh, ooohh, ooohh god" My resistance to him evaporated, as I realized deep within me that I liked it. As the speed of his movement increased, I knew that I loved it. I couldn't lie to myself anymore. He was fucking me in the ass and I loved every bit of it. I groaned again, and now it was clear to him that he had conquered the last outpost of my sexuality. "Oh yes, oh yes, more, do it harder, oh god, fuck my ass, fuck my ass hard, yessSS, yesSSSS, YESSSSS, AGHH" and the combined provocation from his prick and his hands sent me over the edge again. In minutes he had mastered my virgin asshole and taken me from panic and pain to sublime orgasm. As my climax receded, I knew deep in my soul that this man, virtually a boy, had mastered me. He had kept moving right through my climax, increasing its intensity and duration. Now as I came back to earth his hips started moving ever faster, driving his cock over and over again into the depths of my anal passage. He moved with his own urgency, making small noises from the pleasure he was getting from the tight channel he was fucking, and I could tell he was getting close to releasing another flood, this time into my ass. He had stopped finger fucking my twat after my orgasm, but he swept me along with him anyway toward yet another climax. I was so tired now that I didn't think it would be possible to come again, but as I felt his cock swell in my ass and release his load, my last orgasm of the day washed over me. It wasn't as intense as some of the others, but in the state I was in, it was almost enough to make me pass out. I collapsed onto the bed with him on top of me as we both tried to find our breath. In a minute or two, the last of his ejaculations had passed, and he pulled his deflated, but still massive cock out of my ass. Part of me felt relief in having it gone, but more of me missed its presence already. He got up off the bed and disappeared into our bathroom, and soon I heard the water start to run as he took a shower. Even if I hadn't still been tied to the headboard, I don't think I could have moved. The last thought that I had as I drifted into sleep was that I was lucky I had never gotten around to making the bed that morning, as now the come sliding out of my cunt and ass would be caught by the sheets, which I could wash, instead of staining the covers. As you can see, I was already planning on how to conceal this from my husband. A little while later, maybe a half hour, I was shaken awake by Joe, fresh from the shower and looking very pleased with himself. "I guess you know now exactly what you are, right?" I nodded my head at him. "Well, what are you?" "I'm a slut" I replied, and he agreed. "Do you know who you are?" I shook my head, confused. I was Shannon the slut, but I didn't think that's what he wanted to hear, and I was afraid to be wrong. "You're my bitch, that's who. Say it" I knew there was no point in resisting, because he was right. "I'm your bitch." "That's right. You're my bitch, and you'll do as I say." "I'm your bitch, and I'll do whatever you say." "Good, glad we got that settled, although I must admit it was fun proving it to you. If you hurry, you ought to be able to get untied and clean up the place before your hubby gets home." He laughed, and walked out, whistling softly to himself. End of Part II A Wife, A Slut, An Addict Now he had grown back to his full, 10 inch length and he started to move his hips in and out. "Yeah, baby, suck that dick. See, you thought you were a cockteaser, but you really are a cocksucker. Ohh, I'm going to fuck your mouth the way I fucked that tight hot pussy." His hand had never let go of the handful of hair at the back of my neck, and now he used that handhold to force me down onto his cock, as he simultaneously used his hips to thrust it into my mouth. It started to make me gag, but I'd gotten hotter as my blowjob progressed, and now I was determined to take as much of his beautiful prick as I could. My nipples were rock hard again, my pussy was streaming cunt juice, and I opened my mouth wider and wider. I took one hand off of his shaft and started rubbing my clit. The "good wife" would never have been caught dead masturbating (although she did it often enough) but I felt so good I just didn't care. After I had taken in a good 5 inches, he started to hit the back of my throat. I opened my throat as wide as it would go, suppressed the reflex to gag, and took another 2 inches. I couldn't believe I was doing this, but I loved it. So did he. "Oh yeah, you're a natural born cocksucker, that's what you are. I'm going to fill your mouth. Ohhhh yeah, here I come...." and he exploded into my mouth. And just as he came, so did I. I didn't think it was possible for him to have come very much, given the load that he had just shot into my cunt a few minutes ago, but he came and came. The first load slid down my throat (the first time I had ever swallowed a load of sperm) but he came faster than I could swallow, so it filled my mouth and then dribbled down my chin and onto my breasts. Slowly his orgasm subsided, and after the last few spasms, I sucked his dick clean and he pulled out of my mouth. As I stood up, he pulled me over by the door into the rest of the house. There was a mirror hanging on the back of the door, and he pulled me in front of it and said, "Do you see that in the mirror? In case you were wondering, that's what a well fucked slut looks like." He laughed, gave me a little slap on my ass, and said "see you next week" as he walked out the kitchen door, tucking in his cock as he went. What I saw in the mirror was an exhausted, well used woman. She had a man's come, practically a stranger's, dripping from here pussy, her thighs, down the crack of her ass, down her chin, and from her tits. And a look on her face that alternated between disgust, shock, happiness, satisfaction, and contentment. End of Chapter I