How My Wife Became a Cheap Whore by OralDave 587

(This story is the property of its author, H. K. Smythe. Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the express authorization of the author is strictly prohibited. Characters under 18 do not engage in sexual activity.)

How My Wife Became a Cheap Whore

Michael Thompson

The first thing I need to say is I love my wife more than life itself. It was an old, old love story. We met at UT-Austin, got married after graduation, and moved to Dallas. Our first ten years were marvelous. My wife had been a bit wild while an undergraduate. Even some of my friends had heard about some of her fraternity house episodes, where Sandy left the next morning with her underwear in her purse. She was beautiful, not extraordinary, but her smile could melt me. Fifteen years after we married we were still doing each other eight of nine times a night. We just couldn't get enough of each other. I knew I would only have her another forty or fifty years and I was concerned that I would never have enough of her.

The first ten years she was a perfect wife and mother. We lived in an apartment for around three years and then move to a starter home. After our move to the Collin County suburbs, she became a stay-at-home mom as over the next six years she dropped four children at approximately two year intervals, Max, Roger, Marilyn, and Barbara. We called the girls Lynn and Babs. About a year after Babs were born, she decided two things.

The first was that she wanted to go back to work. That was all right with me. We had just bought a large six-bedroom house in University Park, so we could use the income. We hired a wonderful nanny/maid/cook who worked part time. Martina, who quickly became Marty, to all six of us, bridged the time from when the kids got home, until she could serve preparing scrumptious hot meals for the family when Sandy and I got home from work. She was always willing to work extra hours into the evening or even on weekends if Sandy and I wanted to go out.

The second she brought up one evening after the children were put to bed. She wanted to expand her experience of life. Our discussion was protracted and at times heated. She opened with, "Babes, I love you so much. You are the best lover, father, and friend that a girl could ever want. Still, for some reason lately, I've been thinking of my university days, and I'd like to relive some of those times. Sweetheart, you absolutely make love to me beautifully. You even fuck me from time to time. You do both very well. But you're not strange and you can't DP me."

I inquired, "Some reason?"

She replied, "Maybe it was triggered by the young bucks at work hitting on me."

I informed her, "It would be a very bad idea to do anybody at your workplace. It never pays to get your bread and meat at the same market!"

She replied, "I know better than that. It would have to be discrete."

I told her, "You know this is not making me happy. I know you had your slut times in college, but I thought all that was not even in the rear view mirror anymore."

She admitted, "I was pretty much a total slut in college. You knew that before you married me."

I spoke slowly, "I did, but after your going without for over ten years, I thought that was all history."

She explained, "You had every reason to believe that it was only a memory, but now, somehow, it's become an itch that I want to scratch. I'm not talking about a lifestyle change, I just want to take an occasional trip down memory lane."

I suggested, "You know that some guys would already be looking up a divorce lawyer."

She replied, "I know and I'm so glad you're not one of them. I recognized we would have to be very discrete. I would want you to be involved. For my safety if nothing else."

I told her, "You realize that our relationship is based on a physical and emotional intimacy that isn't shared with anyone else. I feel like we're threatening the very bedrock of our marriage."

She responded, "There is a risk. We would have to be very careful in what we shared. I just want to get used like a fuck toy the way I was in college. I don't want to share our friendship, our love, really, our lives. I just want a different kind of sexual gratification. It would be strictly physical."

I said, "I'm sure many husbands have heard that and believed it until the physical became more than just physical, and a relationship blew up in their faces."

She claimed, "Our love is more than that. I'm not planning to violate our marital fidelity, trust, or respect. I just want to step outside the absolute physical fidelity once in a while."

I explained, "I don't want to be inflexible, but frankly, I'm afraid that his could harm our relationship, perhaps fatally."

She replied, "I certainly don't want to do that, but I think we can compartmentalize a simple one-and-done sexual excursion."

I suggested, "It couldn't be anyone that we knew socially or professionally."

She agreed, "If we avoid that, it will make limiting it to a purely sensual encounter much easier and much more practical. Look, this should be threatening or disconcerting in any way. You knew I was a slut when you married me. I haven't indulged myself since we've been married, but I still have that special fuck the shit out of me tingle, and I'd like to take care of it maybe once every few months. I think one of the protections would be no last names and no phone numbers, following a policy of no future contacts."

I admitted, "I think that would be a very good idea."

She claimed, "I don't know if I can make this completely comfortable for you, but I want to make it as comfortable as possible."

I added, "If we do this."

She conformed, "If we do this. At least you haven't said, now way, Jose."

I said, "I haven't said absolutely not, but I haven't said yes."

She assured me, "I will not do this alone. You have to be involved enough to keep me safe. If you're with me, I think it can overall be relationship-strengthening rather than weakening. Just because we have a strong relationship doesn't mean I'm willing to weaken it, particularly unilaterally."

I told her, "I love you. However, I don't think we're quite ready for this yet."

She responded, "Never doubt that I love you. I want this to work for both of us. We can discuss it further in a day or two. I'm very happy with how things went today. Particularly that you didn't feel the need to raise your voice."

I admitted, "This has been a big surprise. I want to avoid as many pitfalls as possible. We could still end up with this being too risky to try."

She replied, "I understand. We've agreed that we don't want this damaging our relationship."

We left it at that.

Sandy

I really did love Mike, but even after many years, my memories of my wanton days of college were still vivid. When I returned to the work force, I didn't dress especially provocative, and I always wore my engagement and wedding rings, but then stop the pussy hounds from constantly flirting and kidding me about what a hottie I was. I still had the figure and with makeup, most of the face of my college days. What can I say, I did flirt and joke back. If I had been as free as in my college days, there would have been a lot of nights when I would have been very late getting home or perhaps not made it home at all. I didn't do that because I didn't want the appearance or the reality of being a cheater. I did love Mike with all my heart, even though even in my mid-thirties, I was still a lusty wench at heart. All right, I was still a slut even though I loved Mike. I knew Mike loved me just about as totally as I loved him. I knew cheating would eventually be the end of us. My guilt would kill us even if he never found out about it. I finally decided to be completely open and make sure that he understood it was only physical lust and not at all, personal. Because my violation of strict marital physical fidelity would be open and not emotionally intimate, I should be able to convince Mike that it was not a threat to us and our relationship. It was a tall order, but I believed that total honesty and our deep love for each other could be a basis for my selfish desire for physical pleasures I hadn't experienced in all the years of our marriage.

Mike

I guess two nights later I essentially caved. I warned her that I still was unsure as to what my reaction was going to be to her actually doing this, but I was willing to participate if diddo things my way. She suggested going to a not so nice part of town for her one-time only lover. I suggested we would be unlikely to run into anyone that would recognize us if we picked a nightspot in Deep Ellum.

I really didn't want it to happen but when you love someone as much as I loved Sandy, you do things for her that a more rational person would probably not do. I was taking her to a rendezvous with who knows what. I was reluctant while she was almost incredibly excited.

I even had misgivings about her attire. To me it screamed wanton slut. Maybe that was her intent. Her 36C's were more than evident in her black conform backless minidress. It covered everything but hid nothing. It was obvious that her twenty-three inch waist expanded to a thirty-five butt. Even the zipper which barely hid her butt crack was sexy. I guess it would have been slightly more provocative if the end of the zipper had had a loop in it to make access easy.

Finally, I couldn't put it off any longer. I parked our Beamer SUV under a street light just off Main Street, hoping it would still be there when we returned. We walked around the corner into a fifteen foot wide dive. Our skins shown in the dimly lit interior, the impact heightened by no one else having white skin. A large ebony-skinned guy came over to our table for two. Pulling up a chair, he asked, "Do you mind?"

Sandy's smile was all the confirmation he required. He inquired, "What are you guys doing here?"

Sandy replied, "We've never been here before."

He responded, "Why aren't you the feisty piece."

She looked straight into his eyes, and answered, "You better believe it!"

He asked, "Do you want a drink or should we take it outside?"

She looked at me, "Do you need a drink, honey?"

I said, "I'm fine."

She then told him, "Let's go, stud!"

He stated, "My place isn't too far."

She explained, "Our SUV is closer than that!"

He turned to me, "What's your function?"

I mumbled, "I'm just watching."

He directed, "Lead the way!"

Sandy took his hand, and I followed.

Once outside, I unlocked the beamer.

She commented, "This is a little well lit, don't you think?"

He said, "I know a good place."

He fed me directions, as he and Sandy made out in the second row. We parked in a dark alley a block or two away. I quickly collapsed the third row seats and threw down a couple of blankets while they continued to noisily make out. I then said, "Okay, fellows!"

I then traded places with them as Sandy quickly lost her dress, demibra, and thong. He removed his slacks, and we learned that he was commando. His cock was only a little longer than my almost seven inches but much thicker. She kneeled to suck his cock. After a few minutes of noisy deep throating, he commanded, "That's enough, slut. Lay down and spread 'em. Obediently, she laid down and spread them. Her bald pubis glistened with her arousal. As he began sliding his cock up and down her slit.

He began slowly penetrating her, and she began telling him all about it, "That's it, baby! Oh! Oh! It's so good! Don't stop! Give it to me, stud! I'm loving it! Your cock's so fine! Oh, it's so big!"

Meanwhile he continued steadily pounding her. Finally, she was crying out, "That's it! So Good! Oh! Oh! I'm cum-m-ming!"

He pulled out, saying, "Roll over, bitch!"

She assumed the doggy position, ass proudly stuck high in the air. He impaled in her one quick move, she began telling him about it again, but her commentary quickly devolved into animalistic moans, groans, and grunting. She came again, crying out a loud, "Arrg-gh!"

He continued pounding her until finally I could see his hips clenching and he began filling her up to a symphony of her continued moans, groans, and grunts. I could tell she came again hard by her body's multiple convulsions and several pronounced, "Arrg-gh!"s.

He withdrew and began fumbling with his pants, ordering me, "Take me back where you picked me up."

As I complied, Sandy began rummaging for her garments. As the car interior lights came on for his departure, she was pulling her panties on. As I drove away from Deep Ellum, she pulled her dress on and then crawled over the seat to sit beside me.

Sandy

The guy was very masterful. We never exchanged names, he was definitely in the directing mode as he first told Mike and then directed me to my knees. He had a nice ebony cock a little longer than Mike's large appendage and a lot thicker. One of the many things that I learned at UT was how to deep-throat. Although I never practiced that with Mike, I found that I hadn't lost a step in the over ten years since my University days.

Next he ordered me into the missionary position, 'slut!' Then he began teasing my kitty tracing my slit with his monster organ. But when he stuck it in me, it was heavenly, my sleeve was stretched like never before, or at least in a very long time. It was wonderful to be so full. I must have been speaking in tongues, I don't know what I was saying, but I was hoarse on the way home from what ever it was that I was saying. He pounded me and pounded me, and I came hard.

Next he commanded me to roll over, 'bitch!' I got up onto my hands and knees and it was pussy nirvana. I was full, but I was so hot and well lubricated that he slid easily in and out. He banged me into a body-shaking orgasm. He responded to that by speeding up and fucking me even harder and faster I was feeling oh so good from my tits to my toes as he hammered me. Finally, I felt him pause and then start hunching as rope after rope of baby juice hit my vagi walls. I was beyond feeling the end of his ejaculation as I was in the midst of a convulsive climax.

I was able to briefly enjoy the afterglow as he withdrew and began pulling on his clothes. He directed Mike where to drop him off. When the top light came on as he exited, I was barely pulling my panties on. As we left Deep Ellum behind, I pulled my dress on and crawled over the seat to sit next to Mike.

As we drove back to our University Park home, I told Mike, "That black bastard fucked the shit out of me."

He said, "The main thing is did he do it for you."

I admitted, "Oh, baby! It was perfect! Thank you so much!"

He replied, "Then I guess it was worth the trip."

I said, "Definitely!"

Mike

I asked, "How was it?" pretending I didn't know.

She waxed eloquently, "Oh, baby! It was perfect! Thank you so much!"

I didn't get off on it, but I guess it was entertaining. It was pretty much impersonal rutting, and it wasn't too bad. I didn't understand why some guys got off on this. For me, it was like watching porn. Unless I touched myself, I wouldn't really get into it.

She asked, "How was it for you, honey? Are you going to reclaim me when we get home?"

I said, "As to your first question, it was okay. It was sort of like watching a movie. With regard to the second question, I intend to give you a thorough reaming."

She said, "As for our Deep Ellum excursion that will be it for me for a while, and I'm looking forward to you reclaiming the hell out of your slut wife."

Realistically, she didn't quite have the same running commentary as with her black lover, but she seemed to thoroughly enjoy the reclamation sex once we had dismissed Marty and were in our own master bed.

I would say that for the next few months there was a positive impact on our sexual relations as we increased our trysts to eleven or twelve a week. Other than that we again became a happier than average married with children couple. We had periodic excursions to the museums and other amusements of the Metroplex including a trip to a West Texas dude ranch.

It was three or four months until Sandy told me one night as we were getting ready for bed, "I'd like to go to Deep Ellum again!"

I was nowhere near as excited as she was, but I couldn't object as we had survived our first foray into the flesh dens of Deep Ellum with little or no lasting negative effects. Again on a Saturday night, we journeyed into Deep Ellum.

This time we parked in the parking lot of an Elm Street live music venue, emboldened by the off-duty member of Dallas' finest observing the entrances and exits to said parking lot. The inside was five or six times the size of our first night spot and the band was playing. Again, Sandy was barely legal in her little black dress. A tall, good-looking, black man came over and asked Sandy for a dance. She agreed. By the second dance, he was feeling her rump while she ground into him. He took her to a table with three of his friends for a drink. She seemed to be enjoying the flirting and joking at the table so I merely watched and waited.

Sandy

When Mason asked me to dance on our second foray into Deep Ellum, I was immediately impressed by the sound of his deep, masculine voice and his good looking tan complexion. I also enjoyed the way he guided me through our dance which seemed to be constantly increasing in passion. When he asked me if I'd like to come to his pad for a nightcap, I asked him, "What about your friends?"

He replied, "What about them?"

I inquired, "Are they going to stay here?"

He laughed and said, "Sweetheart, you can't pull a train with only one guy."

I said, "A train?"

He responded, "Did you come here to get fucked or what?"

I answered, "I wouldn't mind a little sex."

He explained, "A little or a lot? My guys would like to know you, too. It's called a train when four guys gangbang you. You know what a gangbang is, don't you?"

I told him, "I think so."

He added more detail, "Tomorrow, do you want to say, 'One guy fucked me!' or 'Four guys fucked me!' I mean if you came all this way from North Dallas, right? You want to have a story to tell, right?"

I replied, "I didn't think of it that way."

He said, "Let's go to my place. We'll take hubby along. Anytime you want to stop. Just say, 'Redbird!'"

I repeated, "Redbird?"

He responded, "Redbird! Are you in or out?"

I thought, what the hell? I answered, "Let's go!"

Mike

After a while, Sandy came over to the table, and told me, "We're leaving."

The man followed her and said, "We're going to my pad, you can follow."

I hurriedly retrieved our car from the parking lot and was at the exit, when an Escalade drove up and Sandy and the guy got into the front passenger seat with her sitting in his lap. It appeared that the rest of his entourage was also in the Escalade. Without incident I followed him to a nice, multi-story apartment building. I hurriedly parked on the well-lit street and followed the five of them into the elevator. We entered the apartment and two of the guys went into the kitchen returning with six beers. After we all had a sip, he told me, "You are staying here. The slut is going to be treated like a cheap whore tonight. Guys, each of you give her pimp a twenty."

He handed me a twenty from a very full wallet, as did his three associates. They then all went into the bedroom closing the door, Sandy and I had agreed on a safe word, "Red Rover", and agreed that unless she said the safe word, I didn't need to do anything. It was a good thing, because through the bedroom door I heard a lot of slaps, and loud cries that were ambiguous as to whether they were of pain, passion, or both.

How My Wife Became a Cheap Whore

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