Married Slut

Chapter 2

I woke up on the couch and didn't see my husband anywhere. I was still naked and smelled of round after round of sex; musty and dirty. It brought a smile to my face but I went upstairs to shower.

I picked up my clothes and my shoes and carried them up the stairs and went directly into the bathroom, barely sparing a glance to the bedroom. My husband was in the bed, but he didn't stir and I didn't speak

I threw my clothes into the hamper and turned on the water, turning it all the way to hot. I used the bathroom while waiting for the water to heat up. When it did, the steam immediately filled the bathroom. I put my hand under the spray and adjusted the water until it was hot but a heat I could tolerate.

I climbed in the shower, pulling the curtain shut, and just stood there for a moment letting the hot water wash over me, feeling the sweat and cum running off me while at the same time feeling my pores opening up. As I stood there, I let the previous evening fill my mind.

I had been out of control. I had never been that farout of control and I had never liked sex as much. No, I had not liked it. I had loved it.

I had never been with a black guy before. In reality, I had only been with my husband and before him only one other guy. Neither had been as big as the smallest of the black guys. Neither had been as confident or as aggressive as the black guys. Neither had made me feel like those black guys had made me feel.

I soaped up, concentrating on my sore pussy and my tits, the areas that had been most violated the night before. I smiled at the internal thought of the word violated. It made me tingle to think of it.

After I finished my shower, which also included several minutes of letting my fingers explorer my tingling pussy while I thought of being fucked the night before. Over and over I saw everyone at the bar watching me as black guy after black guy stuffed me from behind as my finger touched my clitoris.

Finally showered and dry, I went to our bedroom to get clothes. I didn't even look into my dresser for panties, but went right to my closet. I looked at jeans and other pants and skirts and a couple of dresses, but nothing struck me, so I finally went to my dresser. I opened the second drawer, again bypassing the panties, and took out a pair of white micro-shorts.

I slipped my feet in and pulled them up, shimmying my ass to get them over the swell of my hips. I pulled them up tight, feeling them pressing against my swollen lips. I then opened my third drawer and tok out a white corset/bustier top that cradled my large tits, holding them erect and high. Top drawer. A pair of thigh highs with lace at the top. Closet. White hooker heels.

I looked in the mirror and I did indeed look like a hooker, but I smiled at the thought.

"Are you actually wearing that?" my husband said behind me. Obviously I had awakened hinm getting dressed and I guess now was as good a time as any for the argument we were going to have.

I shrugged my shoulders as I began to brush my hair.

"What were you thinking last night? I know you were drunk, but what the hell was that?" he demanded.

I didn't answer, or really even notice he had spoken to me. I just walked out of the room and down the stairs, with him trailing behind me demanding that I talk to him. I was in no mood to talk. I was in the mood to be fucked. And, when I looked at him, I didn't want to be fucked by him, so I picked up the car keys off the end table and walked out the front door leaving him standing there unable to follow. He was wrapped in a blanket yelling for me to come back.

I backed out and drove away with him standing helplessly at the front door.

I was excited, but I didn't know why. I had no plans. I wanted to be fucked by them again, but had no idea where to find them. I knew I would be at the same bar tonight, but had no idea what I would do until then.

I drove around for a couple of hours and everytime I stopped the car, I hesitated getting out. I knew I was dressed like a whore and I felt amazing but I also knew how inappropriate my attire as for most situations. I knew if I was in a group of black guys I would feel amazing and empowered but in every other circumstance I would feel embarrassed.

So, I eventually just went home.

My husband was out on the deck sitting in the hot sun, shirtless, with a beer in hand. Even though it was only 11 am he had already had a few apparently. He seemed sullen when I walked out on the deck.

I expected angry, hurt, or any variety of emotions but not the apathetic, resigned man I was looking at. I think that is the moment my contempt for him began.

I walked out onto the deck and sat down opposite him. I looked at him for a moment, appraising him from head to toe and he seemed like a beaten man.

"So, about last night..." I began.

"You acted like a slut and rubbed it in my face" he spat back at me.

"I did...I don't know why. I enjoyed the flirting and one thing led to another." I began to explain.

"One thing led to another?" he shouted. "One thing led to you doing a public gangbang with a bunch of black guys and then fucking them while I had to watch?"

"You didn't have to watch." I said sarcastically.

"No, fuck you. If it bothered you so much, why didn't you stop it. You could have stopped it at the bar instead of being a little pussy and leaving." I shot venom at him. "Maybe you could have fought for me."

"Is that what you wanted?" he asked.

"No, I started out just liking the attention but when I felt his hands pulling my pants down from behind while I was in full view of everyone, I did exactly what I wanted." I explained. "I was down for anything they wanted as soon as I felt his cock sliding into me. It actually turned me on when you left."

"Why are you dressed like a whore today?" he asked.

"I went looking for them. But, I don't know where to look. I guess I'll go back to that bar tonight." I said nonchalantly.

"Like hell you will" he exclaimed. "You aren't going anywhere tonight."

"You think YOU"RE going to stop me?" I asked mockingly.

Suddenly, he shot up from the chair and pushed me in the door to the house, pining me against the wall. His hand shot to my face and as he pulled close, I could smell the beer on his breath. As his lips got close to mine he seethed "you are going to stay home with me tonight."

My knee shot up into his groin and as he doubled over I said "No, I am going out to find someone to fuck. Hopefully that same bunch of black guys."

I walked out and back to the car leaving him in agony in the kitchen.

Once I left the house and calmed down, I was in a bit of a quandary. I still felt as out of place in the clothes I was wearing as I had earlier and it was hours until the bar opened. I only knew one thing. I wanted cock and I wanted it badly.

I simply drove around, trying to find somewhere that I could go where I would feel comfortable, but never having the nerve to go in anywhere. Even the places that I normally hung out held fear and trepidation knowing that I was dressed too provocatively.

After a time, I found myself driving through downtown Wilmington, Delaware. It was about thirty minutes from my house, but seemed a completely different world. I decided to get lunch so I parked near Trolley Square in a parking garage and headed to MLK Boulevard on foot.

As I headed to the elevator to get to street level I passed several people. Most of them were business people dressed for work obviously going to lunch. The couple of women that I passed looked at me as if I were a prostitute and took a wide berth, but I noticed every man looking at me, most trying to obfuscate the fact that they were looking.

When I saw someone looking, I exaggerated my prostitute walk, making my tits bounce and my ass swing wildly. Most turned their heads so as to not be caught looking, but a few were honest enough to let me see them looking. Only one, however, looked me in the eye making contact after my display.

He was, of course, a black guy. He was wearing a pair of baggy, black athletic shorts and a very baggy white T-shirt. He looked me in the eye and maintained the gaze as I looked intently at him, a little smile crossing my lips.

I watched as his eyes moved up and down my barely covered body and when his gaze returned to my eys I smiled briefly as I stopped, allowing him a moment to gather his thoughts. Then I began to walk, albeit very slowly and provocatively

After the night before, I had this image of every black guy having an enormous cock and I pictured what he must have in my mind as I walked, my ass swaying explicitly for him. I slid my hand around to the elastic of my shorts and pulled them down just a bit in the back, hopefully revealing just a hint of my crack but definitely expressing an invitation.

"Hey" he said in a deep, rumbling baritone voice that seemed to emanate from a hidden subwoofer somewhere. "Where are you headed?"

I didn't say a word. I just pranced slowly away, giving him time and an implied invitation to follow.

He did, staying just slightly behind me.

"Are you staring at my ass?" I asked after a few steps.

"Yes I am" he said musically,

"A guy could get in trouble these days for acting like that." I said with an air of humor.

"A girl could end up in trouble like that around here" he said quickly.

"Is it trouble?" I asked.

"Only if she don't want it" he replied.

I went past the elevator door and stopped at the glass wall overlooking the street below, gazing out at the heart of Wilmington. He sidled up beside and behind me, pressing against me. I moved my ass into his groin. It was then that I felt the wetness in my pussy. I could almost feel the fluids running down my thighs.

I pulled my top down enough to expose my breasts and pressed myself against the window, allowing anyone at the street a view of them flattened and pressed against the filthy window and thrust my ass into his hardened cock.

I reached my hand behind me and pulled out his huge cock and sli it between my legs, massaging it with the inner part of my thighs. I wanted it in me and he didn's disappoint me. He slid the inner part of the lig of my shorts aside and slid his cock into my waiting pussy. It was so wet it slid in effortlessly, but exerted so much pressure against the walls of my vagina I wondered how big it actually was.

I arched my back and began to undulate, stroking his cock and letting my pussy engulf it. Then he began to thrust and I found out just how big it was. Deep inside me, it was pounding against something with every thrust. It was painful, but pleasurable at the same time.

Or maybe it was just my psyche, liking the idea. I put my arm up around his neck and pulled his face into mine, pulling our lips together and began to kiss him as he fucked my pussy. Over and over he pounded deep into me and with each thrust it felt better until I was pounding into him as hard as he was pounding into me. Our bodies met with ferocity and I began to groan until he pulled his cock out and deftly pressed it into my ass without warning.

I had only tried anal once and it had been a couple of years ago. My husband had enjoyed it but I had not. It had felt good until the actual penetration, where I had feigned pleasure to satisfy him but I had actually felt little more than pressure.

This was too fast for any of that to register. His cock was out of my pussy and stabbed into my asshole in one deft maneuver, sending searing pain through my entire body. I screamed in pain, but he didn't let up. I withdrew, pressing myself harder against the window and giving him greater purchase to fuck me harder.

I screamed with each thrust, but slightly less each time until I was just whimpering. I just collapsed into the window allowing my ass to be violated as I stood there on trembling legs barely keeping myself upright.

And still, he pounded me. I opened my eyes and looked out the hazy window that I was pressed against to see a couple of guys looking up to the window and watching me. I was suddenly energized. I arched my back and rocked back into the cock that was impaling me. I moaned loudly and moved my ass up and down with his thrusts to increase the penetration all the while looking directly into the face of the two guys watching me.

Could they see my face? My eyes? Probably not. But they might be able to.

Suddenly, I felt his cock begin to spasm and I quickly maneuvered it out of my ass and deftly sllid it into my wet pussy. He slammed it hard and deep and I bent forward to give him deep access. A few thrusts and his cock was sending shot after shot of sperm into my awaiting vagina.

I think I must have orgasmed three times, but the pain was so intense I almost didn't notice and as he finished his orgasm, he pulled out of me and simply turned to walk away. I collapsed into the window and slid to the floor.

My shorts had never even been pulled down, just slid to the side. I simply looked like a homeless hooker taking a break after a trick. The thought made me smile, but my mind drifted to my husband. How had this happened? Had he done something wrong? No, he had been a perfect husband. He had been faithful. He had been a good provider. We had had a good if unspectacular sex life. He had treated me like his princess, always giving me everything I wanted if we were able to afford it and he had never been mean or aggressive or physical with me.

But, right now, I had no desire to be with him in any way. I had enjoyed being used for sex by these men, and even more, when I knew I was being watched, I loved it. Even now, I wished I could think of another place to find someone to fuck me and I realized that I wanted to be fucked by black men.

I got myself together and got to my feet and made my way to my car. I pulled my slutty look together as I walked and soon, I was presentable. Slutty, but presentable.

I still wasn't in the mood to see my husband and already knew I was going to go to a club in the center of downtown Wilmington. It was a club known to cater to the hip-hop crowd. I knew it would be packed with black guys and that was where my head was.

But first, I must get some new clothes. I could go home and get a shower and get dressed but there would be a fight with my husband and I wasn't in the mood for that. So, first I drove out to I40 and found one of those cheap, sleazy motels.

The room was 69.99 for the night. An appropriate price, I thought.

I had a plan. I knew what I wanted to do, but it would have to be done in stages.

I left the motel and drove to a close by Walmart. I went directly to the women's section and bought a pair of jeans and a plain white spaghetti strap camisole. These were not nice clothes but they were respectable enough that I could at least go into the stores that I wanted to go into without having the police called on me.

I left, satisfied with my new clothes and the way they looked on me. Not elegant, but clean and respectable. Decent enough for a day out shopping.

Several hours at the Fashion Center at the Christiana Mall and I had my outfit for the night. I stopped at Panera and got a sandwich and soup and headed to the hotel.

I realized that I had not been bothered by my phone all day and that was to be expected since in the heat of our argument I had walked out without it. I didn't miss it at all. There was a sense of freedom being disconnected from calls and texts and notifications.

I was able to spend the entire day focused on what I was doing and the black cock that I wanted. The more I pictured them the more vivid my vision became. I could picture the large, heavy balls hanging there waiting to be sucked, ready to slap against my ass while I was being pounded. I saw the beautiful veiny structure and the glistening moisture of my spit on it.

I got back to the motel and called around to find a place that could do my hair on the spur of the moment. My hair was dark brown and long, with just a little bit of a tendency to frizz and I wanted it to be perfect so I scheduled a conditioning treatment.

I pulled on a pair of black thongs whose strings rode well up on my hips. I put on a black push up, bandeau strapless bra to give my ample tits plenty of height and lift. And then I pulled out my piece de-resistance; an Asta Resort Maxi dress. Black, sequins, sleeveless with a round collar it was semi transparent. By semi-transparent I mean that you could see my bra and panties underneath but if I had not been wearing them you would have still been able to make out everything else underneath. Easily.

70 dollars for the bra, 20 dollars for the panties and 320 dollars for the dress and my husband would be paying for all of it since I put it on the credit card. Finally, my shoes. Christian Louboutin So Kate 120 Stiletto pumps at 795 dollars.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I had never looked so good in my whole life, and I had not even had my hair done yet. But, I was on my way.

I was obviously overdressed at the salon, but that was not my problem. I was getting more and more excited and my mind was meandering to black cock. Finally, my hair was done and I was on my way.

It was still early, about 7 o'clock and the bar would not be hopping yet but I went anyway. I entered to find two people in the bar other than the staff. Both were men in their early twenties sitting at the bar. I strolled past them on my way to the very back corner, furthest away from the hinged opening to the bartop where the servers would be going in and out all night.

A young, elegant black server came over and gave me a quick once over and asked what she could get for me.

"A Manhattan, please." I said as evenly as possible.

She left, going directly to her well and pulling out the equipment, deftly assembling the whiskey, sweet vermouth, bitters, and a maraschino cherry garnish. She deposited the drink in front of me and asked me if I wanted to start a tab.

"Yes, please," I said, handing her my husband's credit card. She took it and left, momentarily entering information into the POS terminal.

She returned it and by the time she did, the two guys were approaching me.

Very casually, almost a little too cocky, the taller of the two men sidled up beside me and leaned against the bar. The other slid in place beside him. They were both attractive. One about 25, 6'2" muscular with a small waist accentuated by a pair of tight jeans that held an impressive bulge. The other, about 5'10" and thin was also well dressed in a way that accentuated his physique. Both of these guys spent a lot of time and obviously money to outfit themselves with the appearance on nonchalance but they worked at their appearance.

They both had beards. But both were short, well manicured and obviously well sculpted.

"Can I buy you a drink?" said the taller guy.

"Too late. I already have one coming." I replied smartly with a smile.

"The other guy spoke up. "How about we buy the next one?" he asked.

"Am I going to be around long enough for a second one?" I asked, flirting.

"I hope so." said the tall one. "Tyquan." he said by way of introduction, reaching for my hand. I held it out for him and he took it and kissed the back of my head.

"Nikki" I said as I took back my hand. It was immediately taken by the shorter guy.

"Dylan" he said, also kissing my hand.

"Well, aren't you guys gentlemen?" I said, mocking their gallantry.

The bartender returned with my drink and looked to the two men, obviously checking to see if they were bothering me. I gave her a discreet shake of the head, indicating they were fine. This bar apparently watches out for the safety of ity's customers. Good.

"Can we get a couple of Old Fashioned" said Tyquan.

"Right back," she said. Apparently, Tyquan and Dylan had already set up a tab.