My Girlfriend Nows

Chapter 1

I was trapped in that ethereal state in-between sleep and full consciousness. On some level I was aware of the fact that I was dreaming and that these strange thoughts I were having couldn't be real. Yet if that was true why were the sheets bathed in cold sweat and my heart beating not only supremely quickly but also with such an astounding intensity? I couldn't remember ever being more pumped full of adrenaline.

I knew with some exertion of my will I could either wake myself or stop the flow of my thoughts; however the lull and power of those treacherous images floating before my eyes were too tempting to resist. Much to my own disgust.

It was the first time I had ever dreamt of my girlfriend, my beautiful sweet angel of three (mainly blissfully happy!) years outright fucking someone. Someone not being me. Of course like the majority of young men I would worry about these things from time to time. Especially if I knew Hannah was out partying with her friends, knowing full well what she was like when she was inebriated.

It was a particular group of friends in particular, her 'crazy mates' from back when she was a teenager, taking pills and raving till the morning that would worry me. Every now and then there would be some sort of reunion. I could always see the excitement in her eyes and despite her persistent claims it would not be a 'wild one' without fail she would come back hammered.

At first I hated this and started to develop a complex. A complex which would peak at a moment I will come to shortly. At some point I projected this insecurity onto different people, including my oldest and best friend Michael.

I knew it was ludicrous but they got on so well when we all went out. It was most likely due to remnants of a very competitive childhood spent constantly challenging each other, whether in sports or in academics. We were both usually near the top of the class in both disciplines, which possibly led to my own rather large ego throughout my teenage years. I had calmed down since then, yet some residue of this obviously remained. I didn't help that out of all my friends he had the most consistent luck with women.

This is not to say I didn't trust her and after a few months into our relationship I believe we both realised that this was worth more than what we had been previously doing with our lives. It was in fact Hannah who made all the first moves; including saying I love you the first time. To which I somewhat shakily replied I love you too.

I was initially reluctant to get seriously involved in a relationship, not due to being unsuccessful with women (I had my fair share), more because I had never been serious with any woman before and was scared and unsure of what these feelings were. Its remarkable how quickly someone can take over your life and thoughts until you can't possibly envision a future without that person. The same works in reverse, love being such a fickle and fragile mistress.

She trusted me too, as I never gave her any reason not to. This doesn't mean that like most women she wouldn't have her own absolute psycho moments and plenty of her own insecurities. One of her insecurities led to her to do something which, perhaps, triggered off a series of very important events...

I was waiting alone at my flat (my parents lived abroad) for Hannah to come home from work at the pub she worked at. I was just surfing the internet as per usual, probably reading some erotic stories on Literotica, when I got the idea to check her emails. Probably not the best thing for a mildly, at the time, paranoid boyfriend to do. However I knew she did the same to me and liked to check my Facebook 'as it was interesting to see another person's life' apparently.

After sifting through a lot of spam and adverts for penis enlargements (this is not where I tell you my girlfriends has a cock) I saw something that looked slightly odd. An image upload to one of those picture rating sites! I couldn't believe it. I knew this was different as it was in the sent items folder.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second before clicking it open. There staring me boldly in the face was an image of my beautiful girlfriend's tits. I recognised the picture instantly; she'd sent me the same picture! How strange. The only difference was that the picture she sent me had 'MISS YOU' written on her chest. A cute little message meant just for me, to remind me of what I was missing whilst I was studying a few hours drive away for my degree.

My first feelings were purely of horror and disbelief. This was totally out of character. My sweet angel, who had always been quite reserved in bed, had sent a picture of her frankly amazing rack to the internet. A part of her body that was meant only for me, one of the great privileges of being her boyfriend, had been uploaded brazenly onto the internet for the whole fucking world to see! I couldn't believe it.

What rubbed salt into the wounds was that she had obviously taken the picture and sent it off to the internet first and then written that message for me on her chest afterward! What I should probably also mention was that she was wearing a bra. I should also probably mention that her boobs are incredible. Truly incredible. They are so perky, playful almost, pert and somehow so erotic.

After 3 years together I still catch myself ogling them all the time and I find myself switching from loving boyfriend to absolute lust-filled pervert. They seem such a contradiction; her personality is so loving and fun, her face is so angelic and innocent that when you allow your gaze to drift downwards and you are confronted by this mind boggling cleavage the pure sexuality of her breasts stand out like a beacon. They evoke such raw feelings of passion and fucking that feelings of love take a complete backseat.

So seeing this picture I was also dimly aware that I was growing quite aroused. At the same time anger was still the dominant emotion and I remember calling and asking for an explanation. Cue the predictable tears. I told her to come see me when she was done at work and hung up.

My mind was now a maelstrom of thoughts. Throughout it all I do remember thinking that I never lost my erection and keep looking at this picture. I tried to find it on this site but it had been deleted. I started looking at all the other naughty pictures I had of her and found myself slowing stroking my hard cock.

Around 11 I heard a knock at the door. I took my time answering and saw Hannah standing there looking smaller and more deflated than I had ever seen her. The image of her in her work clothes, with her make-up smudged and standing forlornly in the hallway, evoked such strong feelings of love and protection in me that, rage forgotten, all I could do was gather her in my arms and whisper to her that everything was going to be okay. We were 19.

After a heartfelt chat she explained why she had done it. She felt insecure, that she wasn't good enough for me and was seeking reassurance, anonymously, before sending me the picture. It was also very early on in the relationship and I was suitably mollified. I do vividly remember her surprise later in bed when I started to kiss her and progress things. She thought I was disgusted with her. The truth was a part of me was thrilled.

I couldn't explain it. Firstly I was proud to have such a sexy and attractive girlfriend. This was evident from the numerous positive responses to the picture, which according to Hannah, went mainly along the lines of 'Fuck ur tits are so fuckin hot I want to cum all over them' (lovely). Secondly the behaviour was so alien to her normal nature that it made me see her in a different and more sexual light.

Also I couldn't deny the fact that the idea of other men out there pleasuring themselves over my girlfriend was very thrilling and arousing to me. Not that I let that on just yet. She was in the dog house and she knew it. I claimed my reward as most men do, with multiple blowjobs and a succulent cooked breakfast the next morning.

As time passed, my recollection of the incident didn't. Whilst we were kinky in the innocent way that only young and new lovers can be, I never forget that moment of discovering her mild infidelity. We fucked in toilets, trains, alleyways, experimented with handcuffs and ropes as well as chatting on online adult chat-cams with other couples. This usually resulted in some sort of virtual foursome. I loved how sexually open and adventurous Hannah was. She learnt exactly how to push my buttons.

After hearing a friend talking enthusiastically about prostate massages and that that was where the male g-spot was located I mentioned it to Hannah mainly as a joke. That night she surprised me by trying it out and I had one of the best orgasms I'd ever experienced! I loved how game she was and how behind this innocent exterior lurked a completely different, wilder and more depraved side to her. Especially after a few drinks, some compliments and a few words of encouragement.

Instead of being upset when she wore more revealing clothes out in public I began to feel more comfortable. Proud even. She loved wearing strappy tops and short shorts. When the sun was out she was in heaven. Her figure, being as objective as a boyfriend can be, was perfect to me.

She was short, 5"3, with luscious and sun-kissed long blonde hair, big bashful blue eyes, a perfect white smile and the cutest button nose. I jokingly call her my little South African wildcat. When I picture her face I always imagine a beautiful bright day with the sun light creating a halo around her angelic face, looking at me with a perfect smile; not just with her flawless teeth but also with a hint of her mischievous clear blue eyes.

After already waxing lyrical about her bountiful bosom (36C for those curious), a toned flat stomach, heart shaped ass and lovely smooth legs are all that's left to describe! In essence, I had the jackpot. Although I'm sure most boyfriends feel this way.

So, whenever we did go out; in the summertime or bars and clubbing, Hannah understandably drew a lot of attention. Her friendly demeanour attracted a lot of interest but she normally always made it clear that she was with me. I started to enjoy this interest. I remember one time telling her to try and see how much attention she was getting. She seemed always completely oblivious to it all; maybe that was part of the attraction to some men.

I told her to go to the bar alone and see what happens. Almost instantly and rather predictably, a tall guy in a white t-shirt started talking to her. When I saw her respond and smile there was a flash of the old anxiety, until she turned to me and pointed me out. My feelings were assuaged and I felt mildly guilty for not trusting her more.

I never forgot about the picture episode and the feelings that they conjured within me. So much so that one night, horny and away from Hannah for the next few weeks again studying, I decided to look into these image rating sites. I saw the reactions of all the men to any pictures of fit women and thought to myself 'wow I wonder what reaction all my photos of Hannah would get...'

I think we all know what happened next and after a very long (not really) mental dispute I uploaded a couple of dirty pictures I had of Hannah (mainly of her tits and ass – no face obviously). I checked continuously, I remember the irrational fear. What if someone recognised her? This was ridiculous considering the sheer volume of boobs on the internet.

A week later her pictures had over 2,500 hits and 100 comments. I wanked over them furiously, pumping my hard cock to Hannah's pictures and all the approving salacious comments. Hannah had no idea. Until she found the website on my computer a few weeks later when I forgot to log off...

To cut a long story short, I was forgiven (mainly as she had technically done the same thing) and in fact she was mildly interested by the comments and the fact the she had her own little pervert (me). Although she tried to hide this from me. And she insisted on me deleting the pictures...which I sort of complied with. I'm a terrible person yes yes I know.

So now Hannah knew that I was a pervert and exhibitionist. What she didn't know was about my emerging feelings of voyeurism. Specifically of watching her. Watching her without me being involved. She didn't know that I had these rather embarrassing feelings and they were fast becoming my main masturbatory material. Whether it was pictures or stories nothing would get me more aroused than the idea of a cheating wife, cuckolding and watching her being naughty with someone else.

She did once have a quick glance at some of the stuff I was watching and was actually rather offended as she believed that I was the one that wanted to be the male fucking the married wife. She didn't understand that for whatever fucked up reason I couldn't quite understand myself what actually turned me on more was the idea of watching her being fucked. I hated myself for this and still today am not comfortable talking openly about this. Immediately after cumming I would be disgusted with myself and would wonder how I could think of, let alone let someone else near my beautiful girlfriend.

She also didn't know that as a way of trying to overcome these feelings I began writing fictional erotic stories about it. I'd only really written one proper one entitled 'The Weekend My Girlfriend Fucked Another Man.'

It wasn't especially good and revolved around her going out on a wild weekend with her friends and ending up sleeping with men and doing general crazy things. It started with her sending a text saying 'Hey babe, just to warn you things might get a bit crazy tonight. Already pretty drunk. You know that I love you though. Wish you were here to fuck me...xxx.' The problem wasn't actually really the story, more the fact that it took too long to write as I had to stop to keep masturbating. So that was the end of that

I knew how open and sexual Hannah was and at certain times, always after a few drinks, I would make subtle hints about it and ask about her previous sexual encounters. That was always a sure-fire way to make me want to fuck her brains out. She seemed to slowly be getting the hint and I was again reminded of how amazing my girlfriend is when we recently stayed at a hotel.

We had been looking forward to this for weeks as we desperately needed some alone time. Due to social reasons and starting a new job it had been difficult to fit in some quality couple time and so this hotel weekend had primarily turned into a dirty one. My favourite type.

I loved the teasing, picture swapping and naughty texts. We went to a local pub after checking in. With it being summer Hannah was wearing a rather low cut black vest top and skin tight mini-skirt. Her legs, ass and tits looked incredible and as usual I had a hard-on as we went into the pub. I said I needed the toilet and she should get the first round in.

After coming out of the toilet I waited at the back of the pub pretending to be reading something on my phone. I could see Hannah at the bar straining on tip-toes to try and read the offers and prices of the drinks. What this inadvertently did was to offer all the surrounding locals a great view of her skirt riding up her bum. It was now clinging even tighter to her backside.

Whilst not only revealing her great ass, this also publicized a rather interesting piece of news. She was wearing a very lacy piece of French lingerie. This was also news to me along with half the locals in the pub. When she finally came down from her tiptoes and the show was over, I noticed that the bar top was at her chest height. And she was leaning her boobs on the bar top.

I've noticed her often doing this as I guess it is a bit of a relief for her. What she doesn't understand, despite me frequently pointing out to her, is that this forces her breasts up and given the tight bra she was wearing meant that her boobs were literally falling out of her shirt. My feelings of anger started to rise but I controlled myself and didn't say anything. If anything I just appreciated the view along with everyone else and enjoyed the suddenly surprisingly quick service!

We sat down with our drinks, after receiving a few looks from the local men (and women surprisingly) and instantly started discussing all things sexual. I loved nothing more than having a few drinks and talking sex with Hannah. Nothing turned me on more than knowing she was getting turned on, trying to needle out her fantasies (she claimed she didn't really have any) and watching her wilder sexy side come out.

I knew that she loved me talking about my fantasies and what turned me on. Although I wasn't ready to tell her all of them; just a few to keep her sated for now. She then popped to the little girl's room whilst I got us another round. When I came back, drinks in hand, I found her sitting on the sofa with one of those devilish little grins that I know so well. 'What? 'I asked. 'Nothing...nothing' was the response and I knew better than to push it.

With all the talk of sex and fantasies we couldn't help but start kissing passionately and try to feel each other up as much as was publicly decent. And then perhaps a little more. She had her arms around me while we were kissing and had her hands in my back pockets. She can never keep her hands off my 'peach' as she likes to refer to it!

Finally she got up saying she needed a drink to cool off and that I was in not fit state to go the bar. I followed her pointed gaze and was quite understandably sporting a rather painful boner. I watched her sashaying away to bar and settled back into the couch. As I leaned back I could feel a rather annoying bulge in my back pocket. I pulled out the bar napkins from my back pocket so I could really sit back and relax and was about to chuck them on the table when I finally realised how soft and silky they felt in my hands.

As well as the fact that they were wet. We hadn't drunk enough for our customary drink spillages yet so I was a little perplexed by this. Looking down I noticed that they weren't napkins at all but in fact a pair of very lacy and skimpy French lingerie. Something that I could have sworn Hannah had been wearing only a few moments ago.

Finally the penny dropped and I looked up in disbelief, whilst quickly burying the underwear back into my pocket. It was then that I noticed the table of large local lads opposite were staring and smiling at me. I remember my heart skipping a couple of beats and flicking my attention towards Hannah. She had her back to me and was just stretching up on her tiptoes to try and read some more of the options off the bar menu. Totally oblivious to the graphic show she would soon be starring in.

My first reaction was to jump up and tell her. But for whatever reason I remained locked in place. Frozen by the sheer eroticism of the situation. Inch by agonising inch as she leaned up and over the bar top her mini skirt gradually snuck up her tanned legs. I could start to see the bottom of her stunning ass. That curve that I had grown to love and treasure so much over the years. That I loved to wake up next to and bury my face in sometimes. That belonged rightfully to me! Not to a bar full of drunken, crass blokes.

I heard one of them let out a low whistle of appreciation. I glanced over and saw looks of intense concentration on all their faces, eyebrows rising almost in time to Hannah's mini skirt. I saw looks of pure animal lust on their faces, the raw sexual violence that lurks beneath all men, whether they have a gold band around their index finger or not. When I looked back to Hannah I saw clearly that the bottom part of her amazing ass was visible to the whole bar and I knew that just one millimetre higher and her lack of underwear would become more than obvious.