It was 6 months on from our wedding, a day which had proved to be the biggest, best and most popular event on Sarah's website by quite a long way. Which is saying something, as there was a lot of competition on the site, what with all of the material which was available now. New members could spend months clicking through videos and pictures featuring my wife very willingly and enthusiastically fucking hundreds of men - and plenty of girls too - during which time masses of new content was being uploaded. Such was the volume of quality, hardcore 'amateur' pornography available.
I say amateur, but Sarah was in every sense a professional, her site brought in so much money we could have retired months ago. But there wasn't a thought of stopping. Sarah had, from the beginning, done this purely for the love of it. The money was just a happy consequence. And, rather than diminish over time, her lust for having filthy sex for an audience increased daily.
The wedding day alone had yielded over fifty hours of video footage, once the material from Dave and Alex (the photographers), plus all the user submitted clips, were collated. It wasn't long after this had gone live that Sarah had decided, against my better judgement, that the paywall should go, and her site would be free to all.
"I don't want there to be any obstacles -- if someone wants to wank over me, watch me naked or being fucked, I want them to see everything, I don't want money to be a barrier," she reasoned. She'd expressed similar thoughts before, and against my better judgement always encouraged anyone involved or watching her antics to take pictures and share to the world ass they pleased. For Sarah, the thrill of being seen, and as she now was, the most famous slut on the planet, was her only real motivation.
As it had turned out, the revenue available from just a few discreetly placed ads on each page, together with short ads at the start of the odd video, was actually more lucrative than the subscription fees when the huge influx of new views was taken into account. So the money kept rolling in, and Sarah kept on fucking.
This surge of new viewers had pushed Sarah's website head and shoulders above any 'adult' website, worldwide. She had really become a phenomenon and was pushing into the mainstream -- it was impossible for this not to happen, given that the latest statistics showed that over thirty percent of the adult population of the UK 'regularly' watched her content. And, tellingly, surveys showed that the nation's attitude to Sarah, and pornography in general, was changing. Only thirteen percent of the respondents in a survey by a leading researcher expressed outright disapproval of Sarah and the material she produced.
This unexpected shift in opinion caused a more seismic change in attitudes in the media as a whole. Suddenly Sarah, rather than being a symbol of where our society had gone wrong, was an unlikely success story and one of the leading examples of the great British entrepreneur. She even featured on financial publications as speculation rose as to whether her business would be floated on the stock exchange.
"All this just because I like to fuck on the internet!" she'd say when she read some of the articles she inspired.
But the impact of her influence on British culture wasn't to be underestimated. She'd made a throwaway comment in a magazine interview that she loved modelling for top-shelf magazines but found it frustrating that she had to hold herself back given the tame nature of the content that was allowed to be published for sale in this country. That had been latched upon by the public, leading to debates about how fit our laws were for the current world.
Not unreasonably, the argument was made that anyone with an internet connection could view Sarah in all her glory, performing any number of sexual acts on computer, tablet or phone, with no fear of censorship. But in a local shop, where the material is on the top shelf out of reach of the young, and with a 'gatekeeper' of sorts in the person manning the shop, the law prevented any depiction of sexual activity.
The 'hardest' act allowed in the magazines sold in the local newsagent was a vagina pulled apart to reveal the 'pink' inside. Where a penis was on view, it must be soft and unaroused. Licenced sex shops could sell uncensored material, but these were few and certainly not easily available to the general public
A petition was raised and presented to government, with over one million signatures, requesting that the UK's pornography laws be reviewed and brought into line with the attitude of the country, the modern attitude to sex, and the material available over the internet.
As a result of all of this, a few months later Sarah and Annette were sitting behind a table in the shop where, a couple of years previously, I'd observed as she surprised the young lad behind the counter by signing a copy of 'Aphrodite' magazine, writing a message encouraging her to masturbate over the centrefold picture, which featured her spreadeagled and holding her cunt wide open for the readers.
Not stopping at that, she'd provided the poor lad with some relief, reaching over the counter and bringing him off as a reward for his hard work. And then, when her ex-students had entered the shop, she'd provided each with a signed copy too, giving each a personal message adorning the naked pictures in the magazine. She'd really loved the sexual tension this generated, and she loved openly authenticating her sluttishness by signing her own dirty pictures.
Today, her and Annette were to be signing copies of the new, relaunched Aphrodite magazine. There had been a change in management. We had used some of our increasing fortune to purchase the magazine as soon as the new, relaxed laws in the country had come into force. Sarah was, on paper, the editor of the magazine, but that was really my job. For this first edition, she and Annette were the only female models to feature.
There were queues stretching as far as I could see down the street as the doors prepared to open. Security staff, the reliable team we'd used many times now who had been recruited from Park Lane lap dancing club, stood at the door. Thousands of copies of the new magazine were piled up on the desk, in the front of the shop and on a palette in the back.
The girls had several pens, in case their ink ran out. I picked up a copy, feeling a sense of pride as I viewed the cover, which featured Sarah and her maid of honour at our wedding, Annette, arms around each other and giggling to the camera. Each was dressed relatively conservatively, considering the publication - a bit of cleavage on display, and stocking tops just visible below short skirts.
Opening up the magazine, even though I'd seen it multiple times already, I caught my breath at the first page. Annette and my wife, still fully clothed in the same outfits as on the cover, kneeling and beaming up at the camera, circled by eight very large, very erect cocks. I couldn't resist asking the girls for a signature myself, getting each to sign this picture which could be considered the first hardcore sex picture to be sold outside of a licenced sex shop in this country.
"Dan, I love you so much. Thanks for making it possible. X x X," was Sarah's contribution. As it always did, this contrast between the deep, unconditional love we shared, and the sheer, unapologetic and unbridled lust for fucking any hard cock she could get her hands on, sent the blood rushing to my cock.