My Wife the Slut

"I don't want to be married anymore; I want to be the slut I always should have been!"

I was just falling into a drunken sleep when my wife of two years said these words and I was jerked rapidly into sobriety and shot up straight in the bed.

"What was that you said?"

"You heard me; I want to live my life as a separate person, free to fuck who I want, when I want!"

"Hang on a minute, what brought this on?"

"You. We haven't made love now for three weeks. You promised me we would tonight. Then you get drunk and are incapable of doing anything!"

I thought a moment. Three weeks? It couldn't be that long, could it?

I had met Samantha a year before we married. Before that I was as happy as a pig in shit playing the field, fucking anyone I fancied who also fancied me -- and luckily there were plenty of them -- but when I first saw her in amongst a group of her friends in a bar in town and looked at her lovely face, laughing at something someone had said, I fell completely and utterly. Somehow I got up the nerve to go over and speak to her and stammering, ask her out. Me, the king of the chat-up, I was like a little boy asking mummy for an ice cream, And no ice cream ever felt or tasted as good as when she said 'yes', mainly I felt to get rid of me.

Over the course of the next three months I gradually got to know her and learnt that she was a committed virgin -- committed in the sense that she had decided that nobody would taste her goodies until he had put a wedding ring on her finger -- that she, at nineteen, was four years younger than me and that she lived with her parents in a house just outside of town.

The next three months were spent wining and dining her and finding that she was utterly determined to stay a virgin until she had a wedding ring on her finger. During that time we became inseparable and I took her everywhere with me, glorifying in my friends reaction to her. I remember when I took her to a football game I was playing in, when one of my team, Dan, kicked the ball straight to an opponent and stood gazing at her as she stood on the sidelines.

"What's up" I asked.

"Look at the form on that" he gasped, "She's got tits to die for and that arse, its dying to be fucked."

"That's Samantha, my girlfriend you are talking about." I said gruffly, not really displeased at his admiration of her.

"Man, if you want to do me a favour, just pass her to me when you get fed up with her." He responded.

Samantha had the same effect on all my friends, although most of them did not put it so crudely. Some made passes at her, but she dismissed them easily whilst not making an enemy of them. Meanwhile I tried my hardest to get her into bed but I was unsuccessful. In the end

I gave in and proposed

and we were married six months later. I was a little bit wary about our first night, wondering if all the time she had spent saying no to men might make her a little frigid, but to my joy she took to sex straight away and our early time together was spent almost exclusively in bed. Certain things she would not do, of course, Anal being one of them, but she was adventurous in bed and always looking for new ways to please me.

Now, although she was still as devastatingly attractive as ever, it seemed like I had taken my eye off of things a little too much. In truth I had wanted to give Samantha all the things I felt she deserved. This house for one, a new little sports car and all the clothes she desired. So I had been working every minute I could to make the money to provide them. Consequently, when I got home I inevitably fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

"Yes, I agree, I have been leaving you alone far too much, but why this? A bit extreme isn't it?"

"Last night and what happened then has focused it in my mind. And when I spoke to Marge this morning, she agreed with me. I need to do all the things I should have done before we got married."

"Look, I know I neglected you last night, but that was a one off thing. I'll make it up to you."

"How? If there is one thing last night taught me it is that some men still find me attractive. Maybe it would be better if I was able to take advantage of that when it occurs."

I thought back to last night. It was really an impromptu celebration. Our team had won a semi-final we were not expected or expecting to win, and we had held a party to celebrate. I had overdone the celebrations and got well and truly bladdered and had passed out midway through the evening. I could not remember how we had got home even.

"What happened last night to make you feel this way? Besides my getting paralytic?"

"Nothing." She said, but I knew her well enough to know that that was not true, so I persisted in asking her until she told me.

"It was after you had got drunk and passed out on the settee," she told me, "Someone put some music on and people started dancing. Brad asked me to dance and I said yes, so we danced, and during the dance he started stroking my backside and cupping my cheeks and massaging them. I didn't object because it was working me up and I still hoped that when we got home you would be capable of performing. Anyway, others had seen what Brad did and wanted some of the same, so when we sat down I was pulled up again by someone else, who did the same, stroking my backside I mean. Then Dan asked me to dance some time later and he to started stroking me. But he didn't stop there, and he danced me out into the corridor and before I knew it he had the front of my dress down and he was licking and sucking on my tits.

I'd had a lot more to drink by then, and I could not stop him, it felt so good, and then he reached under my dress and started fingering my slit and before I knew what was happening he was rubbing my clit and I was as wet as I have ever been. I knew what he wanted to do, of course, but I felt powerless to do anything to stop him. After a while he turned me round and braced me up against the wall. I heard his zip undo and suddenly felt his cock rubbing up and down my slit. I felt so horny. Then he braced himself and started searching for the opening so he could slide himself in. Then, all of a sudden he found it and was pressing to slide into me. I wanted it so much; I was pushing back at him to help it go in. Just then the door to the bathroom opened and you staggered out. Dan quickly zipped up and disappeared. You walked or half crawled back to your settee and passed out again. I went back in with you and sat down next to you, but I never found my panties, so had to sit sedately by your side for the rest of the evening. Later on Gary offered to drive us home and when we got back you fell in bed and started snoring and I was left feeling randy."

I was annoyed at Dan, and wanted to wring his neck, but I realized I had other problems to deal with before him. I knew too that Marge was more responsible for Samantha's new way of thinking, ever since Samantha had met her she had been talking up her way of life and how she and Samantha should go on the town one night and get laid together. Marge was only the same age as Sam, but was already divorced, her husband having run off with a young girl whose parents were rich, Marge had responded by becoming the biggest slut in town, always ready able and willing to take cock.

"This is Marge talking to you again, isn't it?" I demanded.

"No, what she said to me is true, I haven't had much variety in my sex life, and now I want to try and see what I have missed. She said Dan has one of the biggest cocks she has ever seen and that I should try a really big cock."

I did not help my cause by arguing against Marge and her influence. I tried everything I could think of, even begging Sam not to go through with this, but in the end I had to realize that she was determined. In the end I had to face facts and hope that this was just a temporary thing and that she would come to her senses in a day or two and that she would not do too much damage to our relationship in the meanwhile. So, we discussed practicalities and formed a set of rules to govern her conduct.

I firstly insisted that she would not fuck any of the people where I worked. This she agreed to.

Secondly I insisted that she conduct all her affairs in the spare bedroom so that I was on hand if things should go wrong. Ultimately she saw the sense in this and agreed.

Then she wanted every other night to be one of her "adventure nights" --as she put it -- saying that I would be free on the other nights to do whatever I fancied. I told her again that I loved her and only wanted her, so I did not take her up on her offer although I reserved the right to change my mind about this later.

She left me then to "prepare the spare room" for what she said she had planned for tonight. When I asked her what she meant she said that there was no point in delaying, she wanted to start her journey into slutdom that evening. Before she went to prepare the spare room she phoned Marge and told her that she was 'on' for that night.

It did not take Marge long to arrive on our doorstep, carrying a plastic bag, which she told Sam contained her outfit for tonight. Whilst they both went upstairs I phoned my friend Gary, to try to get some condolences.

"I know what you need." He told me.

This turned out to be a series of video cameras concealed around the walls of the spare room so that I could film the events that would take place in there. "You may not feel as though you want to, but in a couple of months time, if you are looking to get a divorce, the films might make the difference between you being able to start again and her bleeding you dry of whatever money you have" he pointed out. I arranged for him to come round and install them that evening whilst Marge and Sam were out.

When I had finished Marge came back downstairs with a big shit kicking smile on her face.

"She is setting up your spare room to make it a nice little fuck place." She said. "I have promised her a big cock and a big fucking tonight."

"Why are you doing this to us?" I asked.

"You make me sick," she said, "All lovey dovey and yet you can't take care of your own wife. What is the matter? Getting too much away from home, like my ex-husband?"

I realized it was no use arguing with her, she had her mind poisoned against me. But she could not resist one final dig.

"Your wife is going to get her jollies tonight from the biggest cock I can find. She'll

Get stretched out so much that you will not touch the sides! "

"If a woman can have a baby and not get stretched out, I think she should survive what any cock can do to her!" I replied.

"Yes, but she can only have a baby every nine months, she'll get a big cock regularly, every night. A girl can get awfully addicted to taking a really big cock in no time at all."

When she had left I waited for Samantha to re-appear. Presently she came downstairs, all ready for her night out. I gasped when I saw her. She was all dressed in black, with a black pair of trousers on that looked as if they had been painted on. You could see the cleft of her pudenda outlined at the front, and the way they clung to her arse, well if she had had a pimple on it, you could have seen it, as it was it framed her fabulous round arse like apicture frame. As for the T-shirt, it clung to her, showing off her tits and making it clear that she did not wear a bra. Worst still was the slogan on the T-shirt.

"I am a slut in training" it said on the front, and on the back "Will you help with the practical work?"

I realized then that Samantha was going to get fucked that night, the way she looked nobody could resist her.

She left with Marge, who had come to collect her about 8.00pm. She left with a jolly "Wish me luck" as she went out the door and Marge gave me an evil smile as she left. Gary arrived about nine-o-clock with his tool box and we went straight up to the spare room and he started fixing up the video cameras.

"These are the latest thing," he told me," They are spike cameras, small, so they won't be noticed, no need for wiring (They are radio controlled), high definition, and you can even zoom in on the action if you want. The control box looks like an ordinary DVD player, so you can even watch the action on your Television if you want whilst recording it."

He put cameras in where he felt they would give the best coverage, hiding them in the picture rail, in the furniture, even in the ceiling. Then we went downstairs to the Television so he could tune the cameras in. The zoom controls were on a handheld gadget that looked like a video remoter controller. Nobody could tell what had been done.

"How much do I owe you?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said, "I can salvage everything afterwards. Just give me a DVD of Samantha performing later."

I objected to this, but he explained that he could easily arrange to pick her up one night and experience her charms first hand, so I reluctantly agreed.

"I popped into the Pub on the way here," he said," They are lining up to try to get at her, the way she is dressed. She is going to get a real hammering tonight. I almost came just looking at her."

We had a few drinks and then he left, saying it would be better if he wasn't here when Sam came home. I sat down and tried to watch the Tele whilst I waited for her to return.

It was some two hours later when I heard her key in the door, and she came into the living room. Marge followed her in and prompted her to tell me what I had been dreading hearing. "We're not alone, honey," she said, "We've got company and we're going upstairs to entertain them."

Just then Dan entered the room and walked up behind Sam, and took hold of her tits in a firm grasp and began squeezing them. His hands then went down lower and cupped her mound. "Nice new idea you have," he said, "Bed and Breakfast, with the emphasis on the bed. I usually have two eggs for breakfast but I will pass on those, if you don't mind. You see I aim to have little Samantha sunny side up, and sunny side down. In fact I'll have little Samantha every way round."

And with that they all went out of the room and began climbing the stairs. I nervously switched the remote over to the DVD cameras. Although hating what was going to happen, I just could not resist watching my lovely wife getting fucked.

To be continued...