1990
Needless to say, I loved every second of our first six months of lovemaking. Jerry soon told me that he wanted me to go out and buy a very specific sexy outfit for him. Everything was to be black. The dress was to be very short and tight. I was also to get a sexy lace bra and tiny lace panties, garterbelt, stockings and the highest patent leather, high heels I could find. I bought the items as soon as I could afford them, finding the shoes at a Frederick's store. Almost everyday, when I dressed up in my outfit, it would drive Jerry absolutely nuts. He would go wild and our lovemaking hit new heights of excitement. I would walk around in my outfit for him, and then he would undress me down to the garterbelt, nylons and heels and I would keep those on as we made love and sucked each other. We had a wonderful relationship I thought.
We would carry on like this everyday and I would have two, three, even sometimes four orgasms a day! One day, after college classes resumed after Christmas break, Jerry came home from work and out of the blue, told me he wanted me to dress up in my black outfit and go with him to a friend's apartment. He said he wanted to show my outfit to his friend. When I absolutely refused, he announced that there would be no more sex, not even sucking, and left the house to live with his friend. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore and called Jerry at his friend's apartment. People (including my parents) were asking me where Jerry was and why he wasn't home. But the real reason was, I now needed my constant sex, and I especially needed Jerry to suck me off to my wonderful orgasms. On the phone, I pleaded with Jerry to come back and he didn't agree until I told him I would do anything he wanted me to do. Jerry returned in two days, and after about a week, our routine was back to normal.
The following weekend, Jerry told me that he had set up a party with a friend of his (Mark), and that I was to wear my sexy outfit. I was too ashamed to risk being seen in public in the outfit, so I carried it in a small gym bag. When we arrived at Mark's apartment, Jerry introduced me as his "sexy neighbor," and said, "Her husband is out of town and anything goes!" I was so embarrassed in front of this total stranger. Jerry then went into the kitchen to make drinks, and Mark put his arm around me, telling me to put on the little outfit he had "heard so much about." When I had finished dressing, Mark kissed me and ran his hand down inside the top of my dress, feeling my breasts. I pulled away and yelled for Jerry to drive me home. He said that I had promised to do whatever he wanted, and that now was the time to prove it. He then downed his entire drink, spun me around and unzipped my dress. It dropped to the floor as he said to Mark, "Check out this fantastic body! Have you ever seen any better?"
I stood there, trembling and fighting back tears as Jerry unhooked my bra and pulled off my panties. I can never explain how embarrassed and humiliated I was standing there, almost naked, in front of a total stranger, and seeing the excitement blaze in his eyes. Jerry pushed me down on Mark's lap and went to make another round of drinks. Mark's hands were all over my body, squeezing, caressing, rubbing, feeling my breasts, squeezing my hard nipples, until finally, his hand forced its way between my thighs and found my clitoris. Jerry returned with the drinks and said, "Let's go to the bedroom," where they both undressed and pushed me on the bed between them. That Friday night (and Saturday morning!) from 9:00 p.m. to 4:00 a.m., the three of us participated in a sex orgy that was totally unbelievable and beyond anything I had ever dreamed possible. Jerry screwed me three times, and Mark screwed me four times! Each of them sucked me until I reached orgasms, and I sucked both of them off twice.
While Jerry was screwing me, Mark straddled my chest and put his cock into my mouth. Then they would switch, and Mark would screw me from behind as I sucked Jerry, lying on the bed. Jerry fell asleep first and then Mark, and that's the order I woke each of them the next morning, by sucking them to orgasm. After that night, we returned to Mark's apartment at least once a week, for repeat performances. One night during the week, two buddies stopped by and Mark invited them inside. Within seconds they were naked and getting on the bed. Jerry insisted that I have sex with them too. They didn't even tell me their names, and before the night was over, both of them had screwed me twice, and I had sucked them both off to climaxes in my throat. Eventually, Jerry let it be known that I was not the neighbor whore, but really his slut wife. There must be something in men's minds that make them want to screw other men's wives. Something about owning for the moment somebody else's woman!
Towards the end of the semester, Jerry started bringing guys home from the bar with him, telling me to have sex with them. When I counted them up, I realized I had had sex with fourteen total strangers (not counting Mark!). Every time I refused, Jerry threatened to move out again or he slapped me around, and I knew he meant it. After the first time with me, some of them stopped back and had sex with me, even if Jerry wasn't home! Last week, at the end of the semester, Jerry told me he wanted me to go to a party with him. By then, I had an idea what kind of party it would be, so I refused. He then told me that if I agreed to go, he would find a house to buy nearby, instead of moving back to Las Vegas with his parents. Of course, I couldn't bear the thought of going without sex with Jerry, so I agreed to go. When I walked into the party in my black outfit, it was immediately obvious that I was the only woman there. The guys, some of whom had been to the house with Jerry, all took turns dancing with me, and that was fun.
But within an hour, I was being led down the hall, into a bedroom, and being stripped at Jerry's urging. For the next four hours, I had continuous sex, until all eleven men were exhausted, and I couldn't get them aroused any more, no matter how hard I tried. That party made me stop and think about where my life was headed. I knew I was on a wild ride with Jerry and his friends, I just didn't know how to stop it. I knew guys talked, and soon, word about these orgies was bound to get out to someone. Just today, Jerry came home from his job and said he was telling all his co-workers about what a horny slut wife he had. He told me he had arranged to meet one of the guys at a local club. He had seen the guy in the showers at work and he supported a massive cock. Jerry told him he had a cock-hungry wife that he would love to see impaled by the guy's cock. On Friday night I sat on the soft leather barstool, waiting, sipping my white Russian through a tiny red straw, because I liked the way it felt rolling around on my tongue.
My skirt was loose, short and frilly, the style I knew men liked best. I had on a tiny thong that was buried between my labia lips, reminding me of why I was there and keeping my clit at a low throb. I ground against nothingness once in a while, restless to have something more than satin fabric tugging at my pussy. My blouse was sheer, a halter style, leaving my back bare, and my bra-less breasts were tight and high. The light fabric barely brushed my huge pointy nipples, teasing and tormenting me with each movement. Once in a while, I ran my fingers over a quivering tip, pinching as I went, and my hot little slit got a trickle of cream in reward. It was time to start surveying the crowd. The dance floor was packed with bodies, rubbing and groping to their hearts delight. I spotted a few nice asses and sets of wide shoulders, wondering who might be Jerry's co-worker. There were groups of men standing around, some laughing, some looking horny and not-so-subtly elbowing each other over a nice set of tits or a well defined camel toe.
As I scanned the crowd, I re-crossed my legs, letting my skirt slide further up my thighs and absently ran my fingers across my deep valley of cleavage. As I reached for my drink, I was startled as a dark tan hand from behind me picked up the glass and brought it around to my lips, the strong forearm attached brushing slightly against the side of my very curious tit. "Drink"? His voice sounded like someone had dragged it through gravel, smokey and hot. He leaned into my back and I felt the solid wall of his chest radiate heat against my bare skin. As the straw touched my lips, I instinctively sucked, swallowing shakily. He lowered the drink and turned the barstool toward the dance floor, coming even more snugly behind me and slid his hands around my waist. His hands spanned my belly, just under my breasts. His thumbs began lazily skimming along the bottom curve of each tit