A True Slut’s Tales: II After The Honeymoon
A Simple Recapping:
There are certain times in a woman’s life, like when she is down on all fours naked, or knocked up, that we feel like nothing more than a trophy cow at an auction. I’m referring to those times when our breasts are just hanging from our chest, (with our asses hanging up there in the wind,) or filled with milk for our unborn child. It’s times like that when we want a man to understand our feelings of exposed vulnerability the most, but they rarely, if ever, do. There is only one position that we actually feel some small bit of control when dealing with men, and that is when we are the ones on top. And even then if two men are involved, that means we are only on top of one of them at any given time while the other is literally shafting us in the ass. For a feminist this is an impossible situation to live with, but for a slut like me, it’s simply heaven here on Earth.
I’d fucked, or sucked close to 35 black men most of whom I made wear condoms on our honeymoon to Arthur’s visual, and video delight, but the best sex had been with Dell, and his heirs that owned, and worked at our hotel. Which is probably why it was only 35 black men instead of 50 or more. Having those four men, of three generations of the same family fucking, and cuming in me in every hole I owned at the same time was absolute bliss as far as I was concerned. And I vowed to return to them next year if I wasn’t knocked up. I can still remember the feeling of vulnerability, as if I were a Holstein cow being bred by four prized Black Angus bulls, whenever they took me while I was down on all fours. You know what I’m talking about? It’s that feeling of being used like you were no better than a side of beef. I love that feeling. That is if I’m with the right man.
My husband Arthur will never be that kind of man, and I never assumed he would be. Arthur is a born cuckold, a man who loves nothing better than taking sloppy seconds from his wife after any other man has had her. And I love that about Arthur, it puts me on top in our relationship, no matter how many men are involved at any given time. I guess you could say that’s why I’m a true slut, and now a married one at that. I’d fucked both Arthur’s dad, George, and his grandfather Arthur II before marrying Arthur. I’ve even fucked my own brother when we were in our teens. So you can believe me when I say that I really am a true slut. But it wasn’t until shortly after our honeymoon that I began to feel like a real dirty low down whore as well.
I started getting the feeling about a month after George had my porno pay site online…
Chapter Two:
“I’m afraid I don’t completely understand, George,” I said after looking at the figures my father-in-law had shown me.
“It’s pretty simple, dear. You’re site is very near to being number one on the internet, but you personally are very near to becoming over exposed. We need some fresh blood on the site if you expect to hang onto your members. Not to mention acquire new ones.”
“And where am I going to find fresh meat for this grinder of ours, George?”
“Well, Arthur was telling me about your friend Trina, and a few other college buddies that you hung around with in school. Maybe they could use some extra cash?”
“My friends may be sluts, George, but they’re far from becoming whores. Especially for a pimp like you.”
“How can you be so sure until you ask them? Besides, we aren’t talking about them fucking anyone other than their husbands, boyfriends, or whatever here. We are asking them if they’d care to do it in front of a camera for some extra cash. And they’d continue to make money as long as people click on their home movies on your site. We’re only talking about a small percentage here, it is your site after all, but with more faces on the site we’re sure to keep growing, instead of becoming stagnant. My best analysts say that we really only need a core group of about seven raunchy sluts to make this work, and with you that means we only need six more.”