Prelude:
Much of my self-image has been shaped by men and patriarchal taboos. From being molested as a child to being ignored at home, and shunted aside at school, to being called slut and whore whether I had sex or not, and it was mostly not.
Dave has tried to help me shape my self-image, but because he's there, supporting me and encouraging me in everything I do, I am still at the mercy of a man. Dave disagrees but says I shouldn't change that. And maybe he's right. The readers who have called me a useless slut and whore for sharing my stories has reinforced my resolve to be myself.
Sex is just one part of my life. I'm sharing the stories here because these adventures have electrified my love life with my husband over the years.
Chapter one:
When I got home from work at the diner, I was beat. Moving from nights to days had been the change from a three hour rush for bar crowd to an eight hour constant stream of customers wanting everything from breakfast to dinner.
I was tired.
I dropped my clothes in the hallway and started the shower. Dave popped out of his home office and wrapped his arms around me from behind. He mauled my sensitive breasts and manically nipped at my sweat covered neck.
"Ummm I'm hungry and you smell like hamburgers and French fries."
I giggled. "Stop. I stink. Let me get cleaned up and get a cup of coffee in me."
He spun me around and kissed me hard. He slipped his hand between my legs.
"Stop..." But I really didn't want him to stop.
He did though. "It was hot when you came home still leaking Larry's cum." Dave kissed my forehead. "Too bad no opportunities have surfaced lately."
I blushed. I hate being reminded that I'm such a slut I fucked my boss, and had other 'lovers'. Well, I don't always hate it. I like being naughty, but I've been called slut and whore most of my adult life until I met Dave.
"It's not that there aren't opportunities, it's that I don't want to be a slut and a whore.
He
called me that the whole time we were married. I might have deserved the whore part when he forced me to trade sex for his beer money. If I'd known you then I'd have run rather than fuck that old man."
"I didn't know that was bothering you still." Dave caressed my face.
"It always bothers me. I've learned to live with it, and get past the pain, but the truth is there." This memory used to leave me cold, but Dave's unholy interest in my sex life brings heat to even my bad memories.
"If you hadn't been threatened. If you had done it of your own accord, the idea of you selling your body is so hot to me..."
"You are sick, Dave," I kissed him hard. "But I love you."
"I'd love to see you work in a strip club. Getting naked on stage and men giving you money to touch you."
"Gross."
"Would you do it?" He grinned at me and cupped my breasts.
I looked away.
"If I had to. To feed the kids. I could do it." My voice croaked. His questions were making me hot. "It's naughty. I like naughty."
"So is taking money for sex. You did that with Larry."
"I didn't ask him for money. He likes giving it away." The truth was that Larry thought he was paying for sex. And that he could hire me to service his friends. That was a sobering realization. Also, the reason we stopped fooling around.
"Do you feel bad for your adventures since you've been with me?"
"Sometimes. But it's different knowing you care about me and aren't going to beat me for being sexual. Still, I don't like being tagged as a slut and there is a lot of talk at the diner." More than talk. Despite my boss, Larry's, assurances that his wife didn't mind him philandering she came in the diner when she got back from Florida and expressed her displeasure to me personally. I was lucky not to lose my job. But I did lose any positive reputation I had.
"I know about the talk. I'm sorry. Gossip is rough."
Dave said the right things, but his cock told the truth. He loved it when I was naughty. I slipped down to my knees and unzipped his pants. His rigid cock sprang free, and I kissed it while it bounced in front of me.
Then I sucked it into my mouth.
I gave Dave one of my best blowjobs. Our friend Scott showed me how to do it right. Plenty of hand and wrist. Plenty of tongue and spit.
I wanted Dave distracted. The hall pass had been fun but the thing with Scotty had been too intense. And the business with Larry had been too intense, though he tipped well. I missed being naughty, but I didn't want to do the things I'd been doing. Not really. I'd known most of the guys and it had made the experiences too personal.
Dave dug his fingers into my scalp. His cock swelled in my mouth, and I opened my throat to let it slide as far in as he could go. Just as I got him seated in my throat, he came. The ropes shot into my throat and threatened to choke me. I backed off and let him spew the last of his cum on my breasts.
"Holy shit..." Dave leaned against the bathroom counter. "What got into you?"
"I need a shower." I rubbed his cum into my chest. "We can play afterwards, OK?"
"Sure..." Dave moaned. "I'll go make us some coffee."
Under the hot water I thought about being naughty. I never gave blow jobs like that before our friend Scotty had seduced me. Or had I seduced him? But I'd been naughty. Fucking Scotty had been naughty. Showing Dave what Scot taught me had been naughty.
Was everything that excited me sexually about me fucking other guys?
I didn't think so. I'd never thought much about infidelity as a turn on until I finally decided to leave Mac, my first husband. Then I had what they call a revenge fuck with a soldier from the installation.
Then when Dave and I started going out, sneaking over to his place after work to screw all day Sunday was naughty. I fantasized about that a lot. I didn't realize until Dave started asking me about the men I'd known that my first boyfriend and I'd done the same thing. We'd meet at a 'friend's' apartment, have sex, sit around half naked and talk, have sex again. He'd been a lot older, and I'd been jailbait, which had made our time especially naughty.
I wanted to be naughty, without being a slut, but I didn't know how.
Chapter two:
"This isn't the beach." I complained as Dave pulled into the trailhead for the state walking trails. The area was a pristine woodland with intimate trails under first growth (or really old second growth) trees. The sun's heat on the parking lot pavement aggravated me, but the shade of the trees promised coolness.
"Didn't say we're going to the beach, just to wear your bathing suit. You say you want to do something naughty, and I'd like to take some photos of you walking naked in the forest."
"Naked? There're people here." I waved at the three or four parked trucks in the lot.
"So? You can hide behind a bush if anyone shows up. Go ahead and strip to your bikini."
I looked at the lot. It was empty of any life besides Dave, me and some birds. There hadn't been any traffic on the highway behind us yet. I'd liked the idea of getting naked in nature. I shrugged and pulled dropped my shorts. I kicked them up and Dave and pulled my tee shirt over my head. "All right, here." I dropped the shirt on his camera.
Dave grinned and quickly cleared my shirt from the camera lens. He started shooting photos as he circled around me. "I want you to take off your bikini top as you walk across the parking lot to the trailhead."
"I'm going to get in trouble."
"It's state land. You're allowed to go topless. Drop your bottoms once you get to the trailhead." Dave stuffed my shirt and shorts into a small backpack.
"And where are you going to be?" I asked as I reached behind to undo the hook on my top.
"I'm going to be looking for places to get good shots of you either in front or from the side. Or from behind." He plucked my top out of my hands and backpedaled across the parking lot.
I didn't have any choice but to follow him, so taking him at his word that I could go topless, I dropped my arms and walked across the parking lot with my head up, firm in the knowledge that I wasn't being a slut, just an exhibitionist.
When I caught up to him at the start of the trail, Dave had his hands out for my bathing suit bottoms. I shrugged and stepped out of them. I flicked them up in the air with my toe and he caught them and stuffed them in the backpack.
"Now walk down the path. I'm going to cut up ahead and try to find a good spot for candid shots." And with that Dave jogged ahead of me until he was out of sight around a bend.
Naked and alone might be a fun title for a reality TV show but I have never felt more exposed than standing on that trail with everything hanging out. I shivered and not the good type of shivering where I'm feeling sexy. The forest rose around me, a living thing with sounds. I don't know what the sounds were. Maybe birds chirping, and squirrels squirrelling. A branch snapped and I started off at a fast walk the direction Dave had gone.
After a few minutes walking in the nude stopped being naked and became freeing. I love the outdoors and the birds and the little creatures. I didn't hear another person out there; except I knew Dave was around me somewhere trying to get photos. The adventure had mellowed from naughty fun to just fun.
I trusted Dave but sometimes his ideas weren't very well thought out. Around the curve the trail broke off into two paths. Dave hadn't waited to show me which one to take. I couldn't guess so I took the left-hand trail. I trusted Dave wanted to find me so he could take photos, and the trails were connected someplace, so I started walking.
After about five minutes I was sure I'd taken the wrong path. Dave should have been in front of me. Instead, I walked around a sharp bend straight into a tall man.
"Was ist los?" the man called out in a guttural language as he grabbed my arms to keep me from being knocked over.
"Ha!" a second man came up behind his friend. "She is naked. This is good."
I found my balance, but my savior didn't release my arm. His grip wasn't painful, but it was firm. "Thanks, you can let go now." I pulled away from him.
