Sex was getting boring. Heather had said that she wanted to stop "playing" and make our relationship just about us. That was what I had wanted from day one, but she had been into "swinging". We talked and fantasized and dabbled. Then the dabbling had turned into a lifestyle. Then, for me anyway, the lifestyle turned into an addiction.
I felt sure she wanted to stop because, for the recent past, it had not been all about what she wanted, but I had taken control. I had been pushing her far beyond her limits, much as she had done to me when we first started this lifestyle.
I remember a guy named Johnathan who she met on a swingers website. Johnathan considered himself a top and she always said she was submissive so it seemed a natural. Johnathan was black and she had shown an aversion to black guys. I had been pushing her to fuck black guys more and more and I loved the idea that she was getting past those inhibitions.
What I didn't know was that Johnathan was bi and a dom. But she knew, and she planned the night out with him before we got there.
I was not into anything involving me and another guy, but she had said many times how hot she thought it would be to watch me suck another guys cock. As much as I didn't want to do anything bi, I did want to push boundaries, both mine and hers, and the more outside our box it was, the more it turned me on.
So, when we were at Johnathan's house, and I was sitting in a chair watching them fuck and she told me to come there, I went. She pulled his cock out of her pussy and told me to suck it.
I balked, and he grabbed my head and pulled me to his cock, which I obediently began sucking. She just watched as he began to take control. When I saw how turned on it made her, I made more of an effort and soon I was trying to get his cock down my throat.
From that point on, more and more of our encounters were with bi guys. She would watch me fuck or be fucked. She would make me suck a guy's cock while they kissed. She even made me do the thing that I detested most. She would have me kiss guys while they fucked.
Soon, it just became another part of our sex life.
But, then I began pushing back. I insisted on more black guys. She liked to be called a slut, but hated to be called a whore. I almost called her a whore exclusively anytime we were talking about sex. I made her call herself a whore and I loved it.
But, for the past few weeks, our schedules had been ridiculous, and we just had plain, vanilla sex. She wanted to fuck all the time, but she just wanted to fuck. Her on bottom, me on top pounding away until we came. Then roll over and go tom sleep. Or watch TV. Or read. Or cook.
We had a lot of sex, but I had to pretend to be interested. She didn't notice because she just loved a lot of sex. She really wasn't into all the games, she just wanted to fuck. A lot. We would fuck at least once a day. When I was at work, she would fuck other guys all the time. Sometimes more than one at a time. She even had a gangbang or two while I was at work. But, with her it was only about quantity. She could care less about the games and adventures. She just liked to fuck.
She sent me pictures and told me what was happening, but I was still getting bored.
More and more, my mind drifted to the one thing I knew she hated. She hated going to Bush River. An adult book store with a 4 room theater in the back It was the sleaziest place. Dirty, dark and wonderful. We had gone several time, always at my behest,
Every time we had gone, I had pushed things until she was crying and then I apologized.
But, I had loved it every time. I wanted to see just how far I could push her.
It was Friday night and she got off work, as usual, at 6 or so and I had worked day shift. So0, I picked her up at work and took her home to change. I told her we were going out, but wouldn't tell her where. She knew we were going to play when she saw the clothes I had laid out for her.
On the bed was her favorite white button up, ¾ length sleeve shirt, a bright red bra, a short black skirt and black thigh highs. I loved her to dress in that kind of clothing. She looked great in it. She had a perfect body for it.
She had a narrow waist that flared to nice hips that looked great in a short skirt. She was 5'6", with long legs that looked great in short skirts and heels. And her tits were magnificent. 36 C or D depending on the manufacturer of the bra, but they were big and perfect. The looked perfect. They felt perfect. And she loved showing them off.
And I loved nothing more than pushing her to look more and more like a slut everywhere we went. I pushed her to get fucked by guys we met at bars. In the grocery store. In the bank. Her friends. My friends. Co-workers. I wanted everyone to think of her as a slut and for her to happy about it.
Soon, she was dressed and excited. We had not been able to play in a long time, and she expected something. But, I wouldn't tell her where we were going.
Normally, when we crossed the Hatem bridge into Harford County, she would have suspected, but it had been so long since I had even mentioned Bush river, that she never suspected. At least, she didn't suspect until it was in sight.
The last time we had been here, we had gone into a private viewing booth and she had made me suck cock after cock while she watched and played with herself. We had then gone home and fucked for hours, using all kinds of toys.
But, the way I had her dressed, she knew that I was not the one getting fucked or sucking cock tonight. I loved the trepidation on her face.
I parked and took her hand in mine.
"I love you" I said as I kissed her gently. "I want to see if you are the whore I want you to be yet."
"I'll do whatever you want" she said meekly.
"Good" I said simply.
I got out and walked around to open her door, as I always did. As she lifted her right leg out, I got a glimpse of her beautiful, shaved pussy. Then she lifted her other out and I took her hand to help her up. I leaned into her, feeling the wondrousness of her tits against my chest.
I was horny and hard as a rock, so I ground my cock into her.
That brought a smile.
"You're excited" she said.
"I am always excited when you are a whore." I made sure to say whore and not slut because this was about me. I wanted a whore Her smile faded, but she quickly reapplied it She didn't want to disappoint me.
I took her hand and led her in. I could feel her hesitance. She was coming with me, but I could feel her resistance. I ignored it.
As I opened the door and she walked by me as I held it, I whispered to her, "Don't be afraid to let go. Be my whore. You know you are."
I paid for myself, but she was free. Girls were always free at Bush river. We had the admittance marker applied to the back of our hands and went in the theater.
It was Friday night, so it was pretty packed. There was a transvestite. He was here a lot. A bunch of old men. A bunch of fat men. Not an attractive man in the bunch as far as I could see.
And yet, she would be getting fucked.
The two rooms on the left typically played homosexual themed movies, while the two on the right were heterosexual flicks. I led her into the last room on the right. It was the largest and generally had the most people in it.
To the right of the door, there were two recliners side by side. After that, a love seat. Along the back ball were two sofas side by side Against the far wall were two more sofas one in front of the other, theater style. All were facing the screen against the front wall.
A dated film with an only modestly attractive woman riding, cowboy style, a man with a very large cock. There were maybe fifteen guys scattered around the room. Only one of the recliners, the one closest to the door was empty, so I took it and Heather sat on my lap.
I could feel the tension in her body. She sat on my lap and I pulled her back to me, wrapped my arms around her stomach and "I love you, my little slut".
I had been pushy before, but now that we were here, I needed to be a little more tender to get her eased into it. It worked immediately. I felt her relax a little.
