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.
