Her Emergence

After her experience with the tow truck driver, a mature woman continues to reveal herself.

It's been a fast few months since Allen and his buddy took turns using my body for their pleasure. I often find myself thinking about what I let them both do to me in that hotel room. And even as I can feel my pussy start to ache remembering the things I enjoyed most, I can't help but be of two minds over the whole event. There's a certain amount of shame and regret for allowing it to happen, I'm a married woman, after all. But undeniably, I find myself wanting to repeat my sluty little adventure with them again.

I also think about the shop guys who I let pull a train on me the following morning, but that doesn't ring as troublesome somehow. I was their craven slut, and deep down, where I'll never admit it, I liked the feeling of helplessness, knowing I couldn't stop them once they started in on me. The rush of adrenaline I felt as I struggled to break free of them as they held me down and humped in and out of me, grunting like beasts, was narcotic.

For them, it was a bit of lustful debauchery. For me, it was nothing less than traumatizing, but in a pleasureful and revelatory way. As I drove home with a sore cum filled pussy and soaked panties, I realized I wasn't the woman I thought I was. As I drew closer by the mile to home, I glowed in a radiant inner warmth with a strange satisfaction and sense of calm.

These past months have been a blur of confused emotions. Of course, I haven't told my husband what I've done, but sometimes I feel I should. But I do know it means I've become a cheating slut of a wife. Deep down inside, I find myself craving to be used again. My pussy aches for cock more now than it ever did, and my loving husband isn't enough anymore. But then again, he hasn't been up to satisfying any of my inner needs in several years.

For the same few months, I've catered to my husband's proclivities for porn. I began casually suggesting ideas and encouraging him, even joining him at times, watching naughty videos. He's been a little perplexed by my actions, but I have played it very casually, so he'll be accepting of me. It's not been easy holding in my horny desires, but at least I can see them played out on the computer screen.

Though we have been married thirty-plus years, sex with my husband has never been adventurous in the slightest. As I look back, it never bothered me until my car broke down that fateful evening. I guess I never understood what it meant to be adventurous. But I do now.

Letting my husband hump at me for the short time it takes him to cum after watching porn, well, it's a little disconcerting to say the least. He's more than content and appreciative, but I can't help but feel deprived and neglected.

Surprisingly, though, I do still get that feeling of pleasure from serving him, and it greatly warms my heart to see him so happy. I do love him very much, regardless of what one may think.

As I would leave my guy sleeping after letting him empty himself in me, I have taken to sneaking off to the living room to masturbate to thoughts of Allen. It was a grand adventure. Scary and exciting, wicked and depraved. But also life-changing indeed, not to mention memorable.

As I would lay nude on the davenport with my legs wide and my cunt swollen and wet with my husband's cum, I let my mind wander and imagine horny men suckling my breasts, licking my pussy, and fucking and breeding me deep and hard as I finger myself to an orgasm. My hubby would find me sprawled out on the davenport on many a morning as of late. He hasn't questioned why as of yet.

My next adventure is inevitably just around the corner now; I can almost feel it.

It's now six in the morning on another Monday, according to his alarm. And I can feel him turn restlessly next to me. I don't need to get up for work as I am off today, but I can't help but grumble a little at the early hour. Thanks to his alarm, I'm awake now, too.

It's a typical morning, and nothing seems out of the ordinary. Except, As we had traditionally dressed in sleepwear at bedtime, I had begun to sleep completely nude.

Waking up next to Allen that morning in the hotel and feeling his naked body draped over mine made me wonder why I hadn't slept that way with my husband all along. But things being what they are, my husband sleeps in his Pj's as he always has, and I wake craving to feel his naked body draped over me as of late.

As I sit up in my bed, I notice that my husband has an erection, and I watch him as he walks to our bathroom. That morning in the hotel room, I watched as Allen got out of bed and walked to the bathroom with his dick waging in front of him too. As I watched my husband wag in his PJs, I thought about Allen's bigger cock. I could feel that subtle aching begin to warm my inner thighs.

Walking into the bathroom, I see my husband standing at the bowl with his dick pulled over the top of his waistband. While he's in midstream, I walk up behind him, tugging his PJs down to his knees. I gently glide my hands over his flesh to his hips. As I rest one hand on his hip from behind, I take hold of his still-swollen cock with the other, feeling his dick jump a bit as he flexes. My husband's cock began to deflate as he relieved himself, and as it softened, I gently tugged and stretched him till his stream ceased.

Resting my head on his upper back, I gently wipe his soft penis slick with my wet hand. He doesn't say a word and just lets me do as I please. As I looked at his reflection in the mirror, I could tell he was very surprised at my actions, never having done anything so lewd to him before. As I stepped away to wash my hands, he smiled at me. And as he passed behind me to the shower, he squeezed my bare ass as he went.

While he showers, I slip on one of his baseball jerseys, they hang just over my ass and just barely cover anything sufficiently, and I like that.

In the kitchen, I set the coffee to brew, then into the family room to settle on the davenport, clicking on the TV to watch the morning news.

As the commercials play, my mind begins to wander; I again start to think about how the guys in the garage held me draped over that short stack of tires. My head hung back off the edge; my bottom barely rested on the edge of the tire at the other end.

The men cunningly balanced my body, they bared my lower half, and one of them pushed his way in and began sucking and licking at me.

Thinking about the whole bawdy scene, I imagine it was probably quite a sight to see me like that. While I squirmed in pleasure at the mouth of a young man, I remember watching as the garage door came down, and the guys scrambled to be the first to drop their pants and get between my legs and into my mouth.

I also remember thinking, "Oh shit, what am I doing," as hands held my legs lifted apart, sliding my bra up to my neck while yet other hands squeezed my tits and several fingers were dipped into my pussy, probing me.

Slumping into the davenport, I relive the exquisite pleasure of having multiple men taking their turn pumping their thick, warm loads into me that morning.

But soon, my husband comes walking past into the kitchen to grab a cup. As he came around the sofa to sit in his chair, I gestured for him to come to me. As he nears, I motion for him to just stand in front of me. He does this with a puzzled look.

I sit up, lean forward, and scoot to the end of the sofa cushion. I plant my feet aside from his and reach out. He's got his work pants on, and his undershirt is tucked nicely. His hair is combed, and he's smelling very nice with that cologne I got him for his birthday.

I reach out with both hands and tug at his belt; he steps just a bit closer to the sofa. As I look up at him, he gets a subtle grin as he gets an idea of what I might be up to. I don't bother with his belt, I just dig out his zipper and pull.

With one hand, I reach in and fish out his soft penis and lean forward. Taking him into my mouth, I begin to suck at him greedily, my mind is a wash of horny memories, and I am reliving them as I suck at his dick. In just moments, I can taste his semen as he begins to leak profusely. I increase my effort, and he begins to swell and harden.

His dick grows quickly, and I don't hesitate in the slightest to devour him as fully as I can. A few minutes go past as the news drones on while I suck my husband's cock; it isn't long before I feel it stiffen greatly, just before he erupts with a thick warm load.

I force his dick to the back of my throat and gulp down every drop without hesitation. My husband groans and bucks sporadically as he empties himself down my gullet.

The poor guy stands there, weak in the knees and breathless, as I look up at him with a satisfied grin and cum on my lips and chin.

Even as these past weeks have been exciting and newly adventurous times with my husband, it's far from what I crave to experience again.

I don't hate my honey any longer for his perverted and chronic porn habit. I know now that it was the only way for him to find relief and a bit of adventure being married to a prude like me.

I had become cold and controlling, very regimented in what I had decided was acceptable behavior on his part. All he wanted was someone to screw now and again. But I made his life a lonesome hell. I had deemed him a degenerate for getting horny.

I had often found myself resentful of his defiance, how dare he watch such filth rather than approach me. I guess I had become a tyrant in the way I forbade his horny outlets. Why I had shut down so completely, I don't know. But I am no longer and will do my best to make it up to him and myself. There's a thrill to not knowing where this will lead me; it's enticing me to seek out the inevitable.

Here it is, another Thursday evening, and the doorbell rings repeatedly. Phil, my husband, readies the table as again they push the ringer.

"Hello Allen, it's me." I text from my bedroom as my husband greets his buddies for a night of poker. "Hey there," he responds.

I make myself comfortable on my bed as I hear the guys bantering loudly in the dining room. "Miss me," he says. "you have no idea," I answered... "I think of you endlessly."

Phil walked into the bedroom briskly, looking for his dealer cap, and only barely acknowledged me. "How many showed tonight?" I asked. "Four," he muttered as he pulled his cap from the drawer before rushing back out to his guests.

For years now, Phil has hosted poker nights, just as others of the Eagles Club do. It's a monthly ritual of the members, many of which Phil barely knows, if at all. But every few months or so, his name gets pulled as a host, and he gets all excited, like a schoolgirl hosting her first sleepover. It's always the same thing: he makes it a big deal, and he drinks way too much, and they cheat him out of a few hundred dollars and laugh at him behind his back until the next time.

I haven't the heart to stop him because he works so hard at trying to make some of them his friends. His actual buddies don't bother coming because they can't stand the men who do, they are smart enough not to get cheated by them. Or it's because they aren't club members, and it's a members-only game, either way...

I spent considerable time texting with Allen that night as the guys swindled my husband's money from him. He and I made plans to meet, and I grew very excited at the idea I was going to sleep with him again soon.

But sometime after eleven thirty, or maybe it was closer to midnight, I can't remember. I felt an eerie calm in the house as I had lost track of time.

The loud bantering had calmed to nothing, and I felt like the guys had finally called it a night, so I ventured out of my room to check on Phil, I was expecting him to be drunk again, I didn't, however, expect what I saw.

As I round the corner from the hallway, I see the club members at the table studying their cards. I then see Phill slumped on the easy chair, just the other side of them, hidden in the darkened family room. My heart dropped because I knew from the halved bottle of whisky that he again did himself in. There wasn't anyone left to guard my honor or keep me from getting molested by the four.

As I approached the table, I became just a bit perturbed. Judging by the pile of green still in the pot, I gathered that Phil lost his ass again, and the guys were now playing their last hand for it.

The four men smiled at me a bit lecherously as I walked up to the table. I suddenly became self-aware of my casual dress as they stripped me nude with their horny eyes. I smiled back at them as I asked where my husband was. I get a few manly giggles as one of them points at him slumped in the chair, snoring.

"I remember one or two of you from the last poker night," I say.

"Yeah, Jim and I were here last time," one of them answered, adding...

"Same thing happened," he said with a grin as he laid a card down. "Hit me, Jim."

As the boys play, I walk into the kitchen, pretending to muddle around a little as I assess the situation. I'm angry at Phil for trying so hard to impress these assholes and drinking himself under the table, but I'm also taken by the uneasy tension in the air as I know these men are considering what they could do with the wife of a passed-out drunk and the impossible opportunities presenting themselves.

Sexting with Allen has gotten me pretty horny, but I'm wary of what they may be thinking as they look at me like I'm a lamb left alone in the woods. Having done what I have done, I'm still unsettled by the men at the table.

Opening the fridge, I grab a bottle of water and lean back against the counter. One of the men gets up and walks towards me, eyeing me up and down as he does, I lean forward and open the refrigerator as he reaches in for a beer. "thanks," he says as he looks directly at my chest, grinning. We make eye contact as he turns back towards the table. I know that look, he wants to fuck me, and that look in his eyes was telling me so.

Feeling more than a little worried for my safety, I watch as the beer guy pulls his chair out and sits facing me with his legs spread open and resting one hand on his crotch in an obvious manner as he takes a drink. I look at him, and he just stares at me with a lustful gaze, and I watch his hand massage his area gently. I looked away, hoping he hadn't noticed me watching him.

But as I casually look again in his direction, I see that he is now more obviously massaging himself as his hand holds a bulging mass. I'm a little surprised, and we make eye contact again, and he grins at me. I'm caught.

The rest of them see, and they snicker as they acknowledge me as well.

I'm standing silent, considering what naughty ideas they may be considering, wondering if I should just ask them to finish the hand and leave. I consider waking Phil, but I know him, he wouldn't be much help in his state anyway.

Feeling a little overwhelmed, I struggle with myself, wondering if I should just accept my situation and submit to them. I know it won't take much on my part, as I could simply lean over the table and let them have at me. But what of my husband, he deserves some redemption. Maybe I could recoup some of my husband's cash with a deal of my own. Twisting the cap on a bottle of water, I watch the men play.

"So, what did he lose this time?" I asked as they took notice of me again.

As always, my husband takes care of all the preparation for the poker games when he is hosting, which leaves me the night to just lounge in my room for the evening. This particular evening was no different.

As Phil set up the table and prepared the scene for his own fleecing, I made myself comfy, ready for an evening of movie-watching alone in my room. On this night, I slipped on one of Phil's dress shirts and rolled the sleeves along with a pair of little yoga shorts. So, As I stand in the light of the kitchen, the men scan me and whisper blatantly naughty about me as I stare at them. These men have no shame that much is clear. I'm betting that I can use that against them.

I walk towards the table, and I look over at Phil, who is passed out in the chair. I step up to Jim and rest my hand on his shoulder, letting my fingers wander a bit.

"Last hand, boys?" I asked. One of them pulled Phil's chair out for me, asking if I wanted to join. "No," I say with a slight smile. "But I do have an idea," I add. They all give me their full attention.

I slowly walk around the table rather seductively as they follow me with their stares. I do my best teasing as I formulate my idea on the fly.

"I'm going to be completely honest, you guys are assholes," I say with a smile. It doesn't elicit much response, so I know I'm barking up the right tree so far.

"What's in the kitty?" I asked. As they snicker, Jim says more than six hundred. I smile at them and make them an offer. I propose that if they were willing to leave what's on the table on the table, they could still walk away winners, as I caress the shoulders of one of them. Jim answered pretty quickly, asking what I was willing to wager on the deal. "My pussy," I say in a fairly seductive voice. The boys become silent as things become serious.

As they all start to push back their chairs and stand, I rattle off my terms.

"Any money won you leave on the table," I State, adding... "No one talks, or I spill the beans to wives and other members, agreed?"

The horny grins on each of their faces tells me that they agree. I smile tentatively as I walk over to Phil and kiss his forehead. I don't want to do this behind his back, but he's in no condition. As I stand and turn to face them, I slowly unbutton my shirt as I make my way past them to the hallway. They follow like the horny old dogs they are.

As I enter my bedroom, I turn and walk backward as I let my shirt fall open, revealing my swelling nipples and large fleshy breasts to them all. Eyes glued to my chest, the four men enter behind me. I suddenly feel trapped as I watch the last of them shut the door and turn to look at me. My entire body begins to quiver; I don't know if it's fear or excitement at this point. My heart starts to pound as I clench my ass repeatedly in nervous anticipation. I know what they are about to do to me, but I can't help feeling anxious and reluctant as they approach me.

As they surround me like a pack of wild dogs, I become nervously giddy as my shirt gets slipped off and my little shorts are yanked to the floor. It's not long before they all have their hands on my body, touching and squeezing me, commenting, and claiming dibs on areas of my body as they turn me. I reach out to them and run my fingers across the fronts of their pants, pressing my fingers across their half-swollen cocks as they spin and inspect me like a carnival prize. But I can't help but swoon as they take turns sucking at my nipples and breasts as they pass each in turn.

The men would eventually lay me on the bed as they hurriedly stripped off their clothes. I watch intently as each of them reveals their horny dicks, getting ready to make use of my married pussy.

As they kneel around me on the bed, I take hold of them in turn, stroking each and encouraging them. They call me a slut and a whore; they tell me that I must like being used like one as they all wag their hard married cocks at me. I feel a bit disgusted by them because I know they all have wives at home waiting for them to return, yet they are here naked and hard and about to fuck at my pussy, not their wives. I didn't care what they said; I knew it was their way of building up their courage to screw me. To them, I was nothing but a set of holes to be used for their pleasure. I expected nothing less of them, and I wasn't disappointed.

I lose control of the situation fairly quickly as they all become lustfully impassioned, and I find myself at the mercy of horny men and their hard cocks once more. My mind swirls with images of those mechanics laying me over a set of tires, pawing at me. I am more than excited at this point as well; I can feel my body quiver electrically as I start to cum in anticipation. My vagina is now contracting wildly as I hump at the air with every touch.