Sally's Slut Stories

May 1983

The post-reception party was in full swing at the bar of a prominent hotel on the Strip in Las Vegas.

Sally Fountain, nee' Johnson, sat at a table with her new husband and several of his friends. Her foot was doing a nervous jig as she sipped a vodka and tonic and watched the others at the table getting riotously drunk. After a bit, she finished her drink, told Larry - her new husband -to order her a refill, grabbed her purse and went to the ladies room.

As she walked through the crowded bar, she looked back at the table in time to see Larry and one of his buddies each knock back a shot of Crown Royal. Sally shook her head, as it was looking more and more like her new husband might not be able to perform on their wedding night, and that was a distressing, but not particularly surprising, prospect.

Once in the ladies room, she entered a stall, closed the door, opened her purse and took out her trusty vial and tiny spoon. She opened the vial, which was still two-thirds full of very good cocaine, scooped up a generous spoonful and snorted it up one nostril, then repeated the process with the other. In all, she stuck four spoons up her nose while she peed, completed her business in the bathroom then returned to the party. Along the way, she had made a decision; she was going to get fucked on her wedding night, and if Larry was too drunk to do it, there were others in the party who would be more than willing to stand in for him.

Sally had seen the looks Larry's friends had given her and she had unabashedly returned them. She no longer had any illusions about who or what she was. She was a slut, pure and simple, a slut who loved to fuck, anywhere, any time and with anyone, as some of Larry's friends had already found out over the previous months. Her dead stepfather had done a splendid job of changing a naive teenager into a raving sex maniac, with plenty of help from Uncle Alcohol and Cousin Cocaine.

Cocaine, in fact, had been the vehicle through which she had met Larry and come to this surprising point in her life.

When Sylvia had delivered Sally to the emergency room on the night after Ted's funeral, drunk, stoned and bleeding from her vagina, it had marked the beginning of a downward turn in her life. The bleeding and the pain that had accompanied it was the onset of a miscarriage. She had indeed been pregnant, but apparently her resolute self-abuse had triggered a spontaneous abortion, as though her body was rejecting the notion of creating new life. After it was over and she had begun to heal, while still hospitalized, Sally had demanded that Dr. Kranz, her gynocologist, tie her tubes to prevent any further risk of pregnancy. The doctor had tried to talk her out of it, arguing that at age 21 and in the state she was in, she didn't understand what she was doing, and would surely change her mind.

But Sally was adamant. She knew she wasn't cut out to be a mother, plus she had an inkling as to where her life was headed, and she couldn't imagine bringing a baby into her world. It was one of the few decisions she made during this time in her life that was the least bit responsible, and she has never once regretted it in all the years since.

Almost the first thing Sally did when she was released from the hospital was go off in search of cocaine, and from then until the end of the year, she spent most of her time drunk and high. Of course, she lost her job - or more accurately, gave it up - being too emotionally unstable to work effectively. She still had her little bungalow, which Ted had paid up on until the middle of 1982, and she took a page from Ted's handbook by plundering her mother's bank accounts to live and get high on. Occasionally, she latched onto some of Ted's old friends who would slip her cash. She refused to actually go out and work the streets, but she did the next best thing and that was use her contacts, who would, in turn, use her for sex.

Things came to a climax when Sally showed up at her mother's house on Christmas Day drunk, high and stinking of sex from what had been a Christmas Eve orgy at the apartment of someone she'd met that night at a bar, along with three of his friends.

When she had sobered up and gotten cleaned up, Sally and Sylvia had a long talk, and Sylvia suggested that Sally take on some form of drug rehabilitation. Sally agreed, up to a point, but would only consent to a two-week stay at a clinic in Orange County. Sally knew she needed to dry out and get a handle on her life again, but she was in no way ready to completely give up her partying lifestyle.

As luck would have it, on her first day at the clinic she'd met Larry, who was working there as a counselor. Sally immediately zeroed in on him, as he was frankly a hunk. Larry Fountain had the kind of looks and physique that made women melt and men envious. He was 6-foot-1, 180 pounds, with dazzling blue eyes and with salt-and-pepper hair that gave away his age of 38 years, but which also gave him a sophisticated look.

Plus he had big family money. Larry's grandfather had come to Southern California after the First World War and had used every dime he could scrape up to buy what was then worthless desert land well out in the country. It had taken nearly 20 years for his investment to pay off, until World War II broke out, but when it did, it made the Fountains fabulously wealthy. Fountain Realty was still one of the largest real estate brokers in the San Fernando Valley, and Sally had immediately made the connection between Larry and his family's companies and had moved in for the kill.

Larry had been on duty the second night Sally was there, when she climbed onto the desk where he was reading a magazine and did her best come-on. She talked him into slipping into a broom closet where she pressed her hot, thinly-clad body against him, then slid to her knees and untied his scrub pants, where his cock was bulging in his briefs and soaking the cloth where it came into contact with the tip. Larry's dick wasn't that long, but it was quite meaty, and Sally's mouth watered as she pulled his underwear down and grabbed hold of it at the base.

She licked up and down and all around the shaft, thrilling as Larry's cock twitched and poured out his precum. Knowing they didn't have much time, Sally quickly wrapped her lips over the head of his cock and sucked him right to the root. She bobbed her mouth briskly over Larry's pulsing cock, as he leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed and his face contorting in lust. His hips involuntarily thrust his cock balls-deep in Sally's ravenous mouth, and it didn't take long, no more than three or four minutes, for him to spew a firehose of cum down her throat. Sally expertly swallowed every bit of his cum and felt its warmth flow into her stomach. She stood up and kissed him deeply, telling him that she's be back for more some other time, then slipped back into her room.

For a man of his means and age, Larry Fountain was quite naive, and he quickly decided that he was madly in love with Sally. And Sally did everything possible to reinforce that feeling. The next night, Larry had slipped into her room, crawled in her bed - where she lay naked - and fucked her. It had only lasted a few minutes, he was so excited, and Sally was left to finish herself off with her fingers when he left.

That was her first clue that behind Larry's hunky facade was a rather dense individual without a lot of sexual skill. Plus, she would soon learn that Larry had a hard time handling liquor. He didn't drink all that often, but when he did, he couldn't stop. Still, she knew Larry was her ticket to a better life, so she stuck with him. After her two-week stay at the clinic, she had moved back to her bungalow, but continued to see Larry, who had been forced to quit his job at the clinic after their relationship was discovered. It didn't hurt him, as he went to work for one of his family's companies, making real good money.

In May of 1982, with payment coming due on her bungalow and no real way to meet it, Sally was pleasantly surprised when Larry invited her to move in with him. So she packed her belongings, put the bungalow up for sale, and moved into Larry's comfortable home in the Valley.

At first, Sally resolved to stay reasonably straight and faithful to her new boyfriend, who was hopelessly smitten. She wanted to make the transition from an Orange County tramp to a respectable rich bitch from the Valley. But boredom and an unfulilling sex life soon lit the spark on her itch to be a bad girl again. She started drinking more, and began starting earlier in the day, she resumed smoking pot and started occasionally doing coke again.

So it was that on a hot Saturday afternoon in August, Sally was left alone while Larry drove up to Fresno with a co-worker to look at some property. He wouldn't be returning until mid-afternoon Sunday. Sally had fixed up a pitcher of mimosas, a rich girl's drink of champagne and orange juice, and had also done a couple of lines of coke, so she was feeling real good as she lay back on the lounge chair by the pool to work on an all-over tan.

Pete Simmons had been friends with Larry for a long time, and had heard that he had a new girlfriend, but he wasn't prepared for what he saw that afternoon when he stopped by to see Larry and perhaps talk him into a round of golf. He was used to dropping in on his friend unannounced, so it never occured to him to call ahead. He had parked in the circular driveway, and had noticed the front door was open, behind the glass screen door. He also heard music coming from the back, so he knew someone was home, and figured Larry was out by the pool. He walked around back, peeked through a gap between the fence and the gate and was confronted with a sight he would never forget.

Lying back on the lounge chair was a young woman with short blonde hair - obviously Larry's new girlfriend - wearing nothing but a pair of sunglasses and a liberal coating of suntan oil. She was of average height, with breasts that were big enough to be noticeable, but still small enough to sit up straight even in her prone position, and were capped by a pair of pink nipples that jutted up from modest-sized areoles. In fact, her body was just about perfectly proportioned, including her slim legs. But what immediately caught Pete's attention was the completely-shaven pussy that lay wet and open. In 1982, a woman with her pussy shaved was not as common as it is today, and Pete found it intensely arousing. Indeed, his cock was making a tent of his khaki slacks.

Pete just stood there staring for several long seconds until he was jolted out of his reverie when the woman tipped her glasses down her nose, looked at him evenly from behind an intense pair of blue eyes and asked if he was going to come in or if he was just going to stand there and gawk at her. He didn't hesitate, but opened the gate and entered.

Introductions were made, and Pete quickly learned that Larry was gone for the day. Upon hearing that, Pete's interest perked up, because Sally was making no effort to cover her nakedness, and he could see her tongue subtly licking her lips, as if in anticipation. As a result, he was having difficulty with his bulging cock. He idly fingered the ring on his left hand, and he had a momentary pang of guilt over what he suspected was about to happen. But those were washed away when Sally stood up and sauntered sexily over to him and lightly ran a finger over his arm, sending chills up and down his spine.

"You look uncomfortable, Pete," Sally purred, as she squeezed his throbbing cock through his pants. "Why don't you, um..."

And that was as far as she got, for Pete pulled her to him and kissed her hotly. Hums of lust passed between them as their tongues did furious battle. Pete's hand slid down Sally's oily body, to her perfect butt, then between her legs. His breath quickened as he felt the wetness of her pussy, and he ran two fingers between her lips, which opened like the blooming of a flower. He slid his fingers around the juicy opening, then rolled her clit around with his middle finger, eliciting a gasp from Sally.

Just moments before, Sally had been idly fingering her pussy and contemplating going inside to get one of her toys, a big one, to fuck herself silly with. But now there was no need for that. She had sized up Pete the moment he walked through the gate, and knew right then that her days of being faithful to Larry were over. She stepped back and let Pete frantically remove his clothes. He threw his shoes, socks, pants, cap and shirt all over the area around the pool, then he slid his naked body up to Sally and they kissed again, ravenously.

Sally could feel her pussy lurching at the prospect of finally getting ahold of a big cock again. She wasn't about to fool around with foreplay or any such nonsense. She maneuvered Pete around until he was backed up to the lounge chair, then she gave him a slight push backward. Pete took the hint and lay on his back, his cock flopping stiffly as he did. Sally took a moment to stare at Pete's dick and her eyes gleamed, for here was a prime piece of meat, long, fat and possessed of an unusually long head, almost the size and shape of a Roma tomato. And it was leaking pre-cum badly in readiness. She grabbed it by the base, straddled his hips and rubbed the head between her bubbly lips, then slowly fed it into her steaming cunt. She slid her hips downward, impaling herself on Pete's cock, and as he hit bottom, her eyes rolled back, she threw her head back and gave a long seductive moan.

"Ummmmmmmm, fuck me Pete," Sally moaned. "Fill me up with your beautiful hard cock. I loooooove big cocks. Oooooh, yeeaaaaah!"

Pete couldn't believe the feeling of Sally's cunt as it enveloped his cock. Most women who had encountered his cock had had to work with it a little bit before they took it in. But Sally had taken him without any problem whatsoever. Of course, he didn't know about Ted and his massive dong, the one that had tamed Sally over four years earlier. All he knew was that this was shaping up to be one of the best fucks of his life, and he was going to make it last as long as possible.

Sally began to work her hips up and down on Pete's cock, slowly, sensually. She braced herself with her hands on his chest as she rode him in a deliberate motion. A tremendous orgasm was building in her groin, one of the best she'd had in quite some time, and she was in no hurry for it to arrive. She wanted to wallow in a slow, smoldering build-up, knowing that the longer she held off, the better it would be.

As they fell into a steady rhythm, Sally ran her hands up Pete's virile chest, circling his rock-hard nipples, while Pete ran his hands up and down Sally's sides, which were slick with oil and sweat, before grabbing on to her hips as best he could. After awhile, he ran his hands back up Sally's body and latched on to her tits, which were jiggling invitingly on her chest. He squeezed her firm mounds and pinched the hot-pink nipples, getting a lustful groan in response.

Up and down, up and down, Sally's body worked itself around Pete's iron-hard dick, as groans and squeals of lust filled the air around them. As she corkscrewed her pussy around his cock, he continually worked his hips in an upward motion, filling the hot blonde's clenching cunt with each thrust upward. Still working herself steadily, Sally bent down and they kissed again, even more feverishly than before, if that was possible. She was getting close to an atomic climax, and she could feel Pete's cock beginning to give off a telltale twitching that signalled an approaching explosion.

Sally's breathing was getting labored as her orgasm started to head up, and her gasps and cries of ecstasy became louder and more pronounced. Faster and harder, they threw themselves at each other, trying to hold back the flood as long as they could. Pete's hips were driving upward like a piston, pushing his cock as far as possible up Sally's liquid slit.

Suddenly, Sally felt herself tip over the top and with a loud "aaaarrrrragh," her orgasm exploded around Pete's cock, and a split-second later, Pete thrust upward frantically and spewed a volcano of cum out the end of his cock. He spit out a seemingly endless series of boiling-hot bursts of semen up Sally's spastic pussy and they held each other tight as they rode the waves of pleasure until finally their passion was spent.

For long moments they lay together, almost stunned at the ferocity of their mutual climax. Finally, Sally lifted her head, looked down at Pete and started to chuckle, and he quickly joined her.

"Wow! That was something," she said in a hoarse voice. "It's been awhile since I've been fucked like that."

"It's been awhile since I've been fucked period," Pete answered. "My wife isn't all that crazy about sex, at least not like me. She's always got some excuse or another as to why we can't screw."

At that, Pete and Sally just held each other, lost in their own little worlds. After another few moments to catch her breath, Sally stood up, feeling Pete's cum ooze from her pussy, reached in her little cooler, pulled out a piece of ice and rubbed it all over her super-heated body. Then she filled a glass with ice, fixed herself a drink, downed half of it in one big gulp, and dove into the pool. Her body was humming, and she knew life was good. Pete soon joined her and as they nestled at the side of the pool, Sally lightly fingered Pete's wedding ring, and they struck a deal. He wouldn't say anything to Larry, and she wouldn't say anything to his wife, and they'd both have some fun together as often as possible.

All of that flashed through her mind in but a moment as she watched Pete leave the party on the arm of his wife, a short brunette. He winked at her playfully as he left, then Sally's attention was drawn back to the table, where Larry and his friends were telling dirty jokes.

Gradually, as 1982 passed, Sally fell back into her sluttish ways. It wasn't hard. Larry liked to show off his good-looking girlfriend to his friends, and it didn't take those friends long to pick up the signs that signalled her availability. Funny how those friends would "happen to be in the neighborhood," on days when Larry was at work or out of town on business. She also started going back to visit some of Ted's old friends, at least the ones she liked, especially Matt, who was still her main source for cocaine and weed.

And she was coked to the max on New Year's Eve when Larry asked her to marry him. She was so shocked that she stammered out a yes before she had time to think about it. They had decided to have the wedding at this particular hotel in Vegas, because it was run by a friend of his, who gave them a sweetheart deal on the price, throwing in the honeymoon suite for free.

About 100 friends and family made the trip from Los Angeles for the event, which had taken place in one of the hotel's meeting rooms. An exquisitely-catered reception had followed, complete with a rock band, and Sally had danced with practically every man there, including her father, who was somewhat back in her life. At the end of the reception, she had changed into the outfit she was currently wearing, a tight sky-blue dress that reached about halfway down her thighs and a halter top that left her tits free to bounce merrily for the enjoyment of whoever cared to look, and there were many who did.

That had been several hours ago, and now the group had dwindled to those at their table, and soon they were down to four: Sally, Larry and two of his friends, Sean and Paul. Sean was an old school buddy who had flown in from South Carolina for the wedding, and Paul was a business acquaintance from Phoenix. They had both been casting lustful eyes at the new bride, all the more so after she had cast them back.