As always, thank you for the feedback, both good and bad. This chapter gets a little bit nasty, as Michelle tries to figure out how deep her rabbit hole goes, so it might not be for everyone. I have lots more material to work with, and the next couple of parts will be focused on her exhibitionism and submission. This could go on for a while. Hope you enjoy!
When Pete got back to the room where Michelle was, he entered through the still-open door, and he was surprised by what he saw. He had expected all the men to file out after Michelle's orgasm, and after cumming - some of them twice - all over her body. Instead, around the room, were Jim, Mike, and Bob, along with 4 other men. Some of them were sitting in chairs they had pulled in from other rooms on the hall, and some were sitting on the bed.
Three of them were puffing on cigars near an open window, and they were talking with an air of stuffiness as they relived Michelle's sluttiness from earlier.
"I'd never let my wife do that," one of them said, "but it is hella hot to see someone else's wife do that."
"What gets me is that she just doesn't look the part..." Another one said. "I mean, she looks like the epitome of a management class, untouchable, suburban wife. How does something like this happen?"
"Repression," said the third. "These women are raised to build stable lives by acting in certain ways, by walking in certain circles, and to never live life outside the "boundaries." They never get to release the sexy 'kraken' inside or explore sex. The kraken is in there. Hell, it's there for all of us to a certain degree. But us guys get to sew our wild oats in high school and college, when we're young. And we come out largely unscathed, ready to settle down. No one holds our crazy actions against us.
"But these girls who are aiming high for the "good guys," for the "good life," have to watch their reputations. They cannot risk being outed as a slut, even if they have the urges. So, they stuff it down, and release the energy other ways. But if they are repressed for too long, that kraken comes out one way or the other. I think that's what we have witnessed."
Pete was listening to this, and what the last guy said made some sense to him. But he knew that he was not the one responsible for her repression. That started long before him. He knew that Michelle had lived a protected life until she met Pete. Before they got married, she had been slow to let him touch her, although she eventually did. They had done everything you could do before marriage without actual penetration, even thinking about anal sex once when she was incredibly turned on, just to keep her vagina "pure." And she had always been up to play when they were done studying or doing whatever needed to be done.
He had not resented this at all. He was religious too, and while he was not a virgin, he had happily agreed to wait until they were married. He loved her, and besides, it was part of what was expected in families like theirs. It didn't hurt that she gave the best blowjobs he had ever had, teasing him just the right amount, both before and after he ejaculated, to get the most out of his orgasms. And she loved to have orgasms, too. The way she would react when he was feeling her up and playing with her clit was so awesome, he had once told one of his friends how sexy it was to hear her when they played sexually.
That playful woman -- always pushing the boundaries without busting it -- is who he expected to marry, only with the vows out of the way, he had expected her to let it all hang out, because full intercourse was in the mix. And truth be told, the sex was good for a while. They had fucked two or three times a day when on their honeymoon, and they had even gone to a deserted beach to have sex, Michelle staying naked until they left, and then riding topless back to the hotel. Pete had been giddy about the future when that happened.
But after a few months, a different look had come across her countenance. She was still the same, beautiful, Michelle, but everything was down to business, whether it was her career, or getting the house ready for children, or church. To Pete, it was like she was trying to emulate her parents' marriage. Wait two years to have children, and once children were born, they became your life, and you never apologize for that. That is what her parents had done. It was even what his parents had done.
Both sets of parents had built a wonderful life together, so it was only natural that Michelle and Pete would try to do the same thing. There was nothing wrong with that, except one thing: when you are determined and focused on emulating someone else's life, you don't take into account that you are different from them, and you don't give yourself time to explore what makes you unique, including sexually.
Right on schedule, after 2 years of marriage they had two children about a year-and-a-half apart. They had a son (Rich) who was now 20, a junior in the engineering program at State. He was athletic and tall, like his father, but had not yet developed the slight pooch that his dad had - but was now working off. Rich was slim and muscular and had his share of girlfriends in high school and college. Just recently, he had settled down, and had been dating the same girl for the last year.
They also had a daughter (Jennifer), who had just turned 18, and turned heads wherever she went. She was also going to State, but was going to major in accounting like her mom. She also shared her mother's eyes and smile, but she had her dad's nose. She was taller than Michelle and dyed her hair blond. She was a real looker, and probably smarter than Rich. Pete could tell that she had the same attitudes toward life as Michelle, and knew that whenever she found her husband, he would have to have a talk with him.
That protected life that her parents had given Michelle, and that his parents had given him, had given them a mostly happy life. In turn, they had instilled many of those same values in Rich and Jennifer. And perhaps in another era, Pete's dissatisfaction with their sex life would have been unmentioned, and they would have died two relatively happy people who just never had sex.
But they were living in 2021, and sexual imagery was everywhere: TV shows, commercials, billboards, and of course, the internet. Pete had discovered online porn when he was in college. Throughout their marriage, as Michelle had grown more and more cold sexually, he had used it as an alternative to physically cheating on his wife. He was horny all the time -- had been since he discovered girls. He had never done any online chatting; the images and videos had been enough for him. With all the sexual imagery that was everywhere, it was surprising to him that she was never horny, and never interested in really looking at porn, at least as far as he could tell.
His exposure to those images had created fantasies that carried him through many a jack-off session. He had been instantly attracted to exhibitionism pictures and videos. He loved one company that recruited young women and talked them into flashing around town, and which also showed up at all the hot wet t-shirt contests.
He also loved clips of women being insatiable in bed, even having multiple partners. That had led to many an orgasm, imagining what it would be like to participate in one of them. But the mystery of Michelle, and how she had gone from tomcat to iceberg, gnawed at his brain. He loved her: she was a great mom to their children. She was compassionate toward people; and she was successful in her career. She ran a tight ship at home.
But he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something sexual inside of her that was simmering beneath the surface; he just couldn't get it to come out, until his ultimatum. So, while he goaded her in their private conversations to let loose, when he watched porn he would often replace the face of the woman getting gangbanged with Michelle's.
All of these thoughts were on Pete's mind, and he knew that he was tired, so he was yanked out of his meandering thoughts when someone asked out loud, "Will the degrading acts ever stop???"
Pete turned his head, and jerked to attention, as he saw that his wife getting ready to do the most disgusting thing he had ever seen in real life. He had gotten so lost in his own thoughts after hearing the guys speculating about Michelle and smoking cigars, he had forgotten to find out what was going on with his wife. Now, not only he, but everyone in the room, was looking at her.
Tommy, the sloppiest of her masters, and the only one that had not cum yet, had pulled up his shirt, and pulled down his pants and underwear to his knees, legs spread. He was sitting back on his elbows on the bed, naked from the waist down. His undershirt, stained and looking pretty ratty, came down between his belly button and waist, and a considerable portion of his belly fat was exposed. It was not pretty.
Pete knew that Michelle hated the thought of doing anything sexual with men that were even mildly overweight and thought this might be the trigger that put an end to the craziness of the night. But here she was, still naked, nipples still as erect as they had been all night. She was on her knees, positioned between his legs. Not only that, her face was approaching his crotch. Her nose was turned up in disgust. As shocking as it was to see Michelle obediently preparing to lick another man's crotch, Pete was mesmerized by the nastiness of the scene.
Tommy's thick, unkempt pubic hair was matted to his skin, he guessed with sweat. It was not only thick, but expansive, just the way you'd expect a slob to keep his crotch. But the unkempt appearance was only topped by the odor. Even above the cigar smell, you could smell his pungent crotch, sweaty and greasy.
All the guys cringed, insulting Tommy about his smell. "Tommy," Bob said, "even with this cigar, I can still smell you. Jesus!"
"Hey, give me a break!" Tommy said. "I've been in that hot convention center all day long, and then we went to that restaurant and back to the bar right away. I didn't know I'd be dancing and getting sweaty. I haven't had a chance to shower yet. Didn't think I'd need to."
"Yeah, but jeez! Take a shower!" said Mike. All the men laughed, including Pete. Even Tommy had a smile. He knew it was bad.
"Why?" Tommy said. "We have a slave to do that. Michelle here is going to give me a bath. A tongue bath."
Everyone cringed again. Just as the nastiness of what he was seeing settled in his brain, Pete saw Michelle finish leaning over, so she was hovering right next to his scrotum. She was at ground zero for the odor, and her face showed it.
Michelle chimed in. "It's pretty bad, Tommy." Pete knew from previous experience with this that Michelle would not even give him oral if he was not clean. It had often put a damper on any passionate moment they were sharing, because it was a red line for her. But, as had been the case all night, Pete and the rest of the guys were in for a surprise. "Let's see if we can fix that," she said.
With her face still showing disgust, she slowly stuck out her tongue, and then moving her head up and down, began to lovingly caress his testicles with his tongue. She wasn't just using the tip of her tongue; she was using it all. Pete realized that she was going to make sure that Tommy got her very best, something that she only rarely gave him.
In her own mind, she had detached herself from how gross it was, and wanted Tommy, one of her masters, to be pleased with his slave, no matter what she was asked to do. This detachment was a useful tool that would serve her well the rest of the weekend.
She pulled her tongue away to gain a different angle, and slime and saliva dragged with it, raising the nastiness level. Everyone else was gape-mouthed, including Tommy. But not Michelle. She did not hesitate on her task, seeming to worship Tommy's balls as if she were in love with them. Tommy quickly started groaning, his erection now at its fullest. Pete knew how awesome it felt when Michelle was really into a blowjob, so he knew what Tommy was getting.
"Go a little bit lower, slut," Bob commanded her. He was still holding the camera. "I want to make sure to get all of this on video." She turned toward him questioningly, which elicited a hard slap on her ass. "Go slow and go down lower! Get it all." he ordered her again.
"Yes sir."
Michelle slowly turned back to Tommy's crotch, and took his cock in her left hand. Then with her other hand, she ran it down to his crack from his balls, like she was massaging it. That act must have released more of the odor because she instinctively held it to her nose, causing her to turn and cough.
Pete thought about how embarrassing this must be for Tommy. No guy liked to be outed for being stinky, especially when there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. But here he was on full display, crotch open in front of close friends and co-workers. He was stinky, and a part of this whole scenario meant putting on display that he was not carrying the biggest package.
Pete reasoned that the only thing that could be preventing Tommy from zipping up and taking a shower right away was that there was a hot woman remedying the situation with her tongue. And despite what she had said, her actions showed that she was not embarrassed for him at all. Her ministrations on this unclean crotch confirmed that she was on another plane of sluthood now.
"Lick your hand," Bob ordered her.
