How I Became A Slut Pt 03

Three 'adventures' a year with two or three black men at a time, and in between the adventures I'd have sex with young men in their twenties, again two or three at a time. All I demanded was that they had big cocks and they dominated me. This was the phase I was going through when I met my current husband. And, yes, he got me. By which, I mean he understood me. He immediately guessed I had a secret. So I told him I had some photos of me naked, and some of me having sex - would he like to see them? Obviously, he said yes. He asked about the sex ones. He asked if I meant that sometimes the man having sex with me took photos as he fucked me? I said sometimes that happened, but usually it was another man who took the photos. He didn't understand immediately.

I said: "Sometimes there are two men." Then I saw him get it. He nodded.

"Okay. Let's have a look."

So I got my photos and sat down with him and showed him them, starting with my Polaroids. They were in a box. There were about nine hundred photos in all. Me with one man, two men, three men, black men, white men, Indian men, Turkish men, English men, young men, fat men, skinny men, teenage men. Me being gangbanged, double penetrated, triple penetrated, me covered in spunk, me smiling for the camera with dildos up my arse, in my cunt, and with one cock or two cocks in my mouth. My future husband looked at the photos of my life and for quite a while he didn't say a word. He looked at every single photo in that box.

I knew we were getting somewhere when he held up a photo of me, astride one man, another man's cock in my mouth and me wanking a third man's cock.

"Who took the photo?" he asked.

"Another man who was the friend of those three," I said.

"So there are four men in that room with you and you're having sex with three of them while the fourth man photographs you?" I nodded.

"Yes." Then he asked:

"Did the fourth man fuck you too?"

"No, but I wanted him to," I answered honestly. "I said he could, but the others wanted him to keep on photographing the four of us fucking. Besides, there were no free holes. They were all being used."

"And how old were you in this photo?" he asked.

"Nearly thirty, I said. "I've got ginger curls. It was my last ginger adventure, because I went blonde a few days after my thirtieth birthday. Those men in that photo were helping me leave my twenties and get ready to enter my thirties. One man for each decade and one man for each orifice."

I stopped talking, but I was thinking: It's a good photo, even though I've got my back to the camera. It captures the true slut that I am.

He stared at that photo.

"Just to be clear," he said. "You wanted to be fucked by four men at the same time?".

I nodded.

"Yes."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I think it would be an incredible and deeply moving sexual experience," I answered. "Also, I'd feel quite powerful with four cocks in my body."

I couldn't read his expression at all. I really thought he was going to get up and leave. I didn't want him to, but I wouldn't have blamed him if he had. Instead, he looked at that photo again, then put it in the box on top of the others. Then he said he needed a day or two to think about things. I told him I wanted him in my life, if he could bear to be with me. I also said I wanted to continue being a slut and live my slut life, which meant that I wanted to carry on doing all of the things in the photos - and lots of other things that weren't. He said he needed a few days to think about 'things', but he went away for a week.

And then he came back. He said he thought he could manage how I lived my life and be a part of it. So we sat down and we negotiated. He said it was incredibly important for our own relationship to be totally separate from my slut life. I agreed with him on that, and although at first, I wasn't sure it was possible, it was. I was already keeping any reference to my slut life out of my family life and out of my working life. Then he told me his terms, basically the things he wanted from our relationship. He'd made a list. I didn't look at it; I knew what was on it. I said yes. He was surprised that I didn't need to look at it. I listed the things on the list and got them all correct. I said one that wasn't on the list, so he added it. I said yes to it anyway. I told him what I wanted. He okayed it all. And so we agreed to each other's terms. And that was it; he got me, he fucking got me. Clever bastard. He let me be me! Simple.

No man knows that and no man should know that. And I always thought that no man could do that. Most men have too much ego to allow a woman to be her real self. He had his own ego, but it didn't try to overwhelm mine. And I don't know how he knew it, but he did. I know I've said this before, and it over-simplifies what was actually a very complex series of negotiations, but one day he said, jokingly, but not: 'You be the slapper and I'll be your snapper' - and that was it. I was totally smitten. At first, I thought he was either gay, a voyeur, or impotent, or was one of those men who like to be humiliated, or one of those men who get off watching their wife being fucked, or was a cuckold who wanted his cock locked in a cage while I got fucked hard, or else was a swinger who wanted to join in. But he wasn't any of those. I didn't know what he was, but he wasn't and isn't like anyone else I'd ever met.

For my next adventure with two black men, he came along as my photographer. I had a really good quality digital camera which I said he should use. His first time. This would be the test. I warned him. I explained what I'd be doing. How I'd be. I told him he'd see a different me. He'd be in a room with a woman he wouldn't recognise. He said he'd be okay. I wondered if he was, out of necessity, putting on a brave face for my benefit, but no, he wasn't. He managed perfectly well.

Throughout that weekend adventure, I did every extreme, perverted, deviant, sexual thing I could. Using terminology I despise, I became 'a dirty fucking whore'. I don't consider myself 'dirty' at all. I have a very big sexual appetite and I know what I like. There's nothing 'dirty' about it. It's very clean. Very natural. Very pure. For that adventure, and so my future husband could see exactly what he was getting, I made sure I was as extreme as I could be, simply because I wanted to know if this rather unique man could cope with who I really was and what I really was. I forewarned him. He knew what I was going to be like. But only in the abstract. It's different on the day, in the room, as I dropped to my knees and introduced myself by sucking my two black guests erect. The room was soon heavy with their sweat. I was hyper! My fanny was gaping open, hungry for cocks, my nipples were rock-hard, ready to be bitten and pinched, and my clit was tingling, letting me know it'd be out to play sometime over that weekend. It's how I always am for an adventure. Like a live wire. I looked him in the eyes as I sucked the biggest black cock in the room. I looked into his eyes, smiled and, between groans, told him how lovely he was as the other black man pushed his cock into my arse. Later, the man who is now my husband watched and took more photos as I slid my tongue into both men's arseholes and licked them and wanked them to orgasm. I scooped both men's come out of my cunt and licked my fingers as I looked unwaveringly at the man who had just taken photos of everything I did in his calm, gentle, unobtrusive way.

He photographed me being whipped, spit-roasted, double-anal fucked, double vaginal fucked. He photographed me walking naked into the bar to order drinks for my two black lovers. He photographed me being led around on my hands and knees naked on a dog leash. He photographed me crawling naked across the hotel floor, begging to be fucked in the arse by the two black men who were standing watching me do as they'd ordered. During that weekend he photographed me licking up spunk off the floor and swigging down a two-man spunk cocktail from a wine glass. Back at home, we looked at the whole collection of photos. Some of those photos were excellent. Lots of them were very good. Only one or two were blurred. He'd taken quite a lot too, which I was really pleased about.

He explained how he'd had to think of me as a model he didn't know. He said he found it difficult when the men whipped me, because it made me yelp and he didn't like to see me being hurt. I told him not to worry about me yelping; I did it because I loved being whipped. I explained how it made me orgasm. I let him know I thought he'd done an incredible job and that he'd been unobtrusive enough to get really good photos, but present enough for me to show off a bit for him too. And then he looked after me. He bathed me, fed me, oiled me, massaged me, sat with me, read me stories in bed, did everything I needed. He looked after me. Cared for me. And he's looked after me ever since. He's my everything. I don't do anything without him and I do nothing (in my slut life) without his permission. If he vetoes something, I listen. I never overrule it. Nor do I try to. He's only refused me twice and he was right both times.

Four men (which my husband arranged) made me cry, scream, jabber incoherently, drool, dribble, cackle hysterically, and pass out. Because he was my photographer, I was able to get the four men to focus solely on satisfying my needs. I hit new highs. New experiences. New thrills. And although I'd felt incredibly slutty with those two men during my first time at 28, four men (in my forties) made me feel like a proud superwhore. Four men at the same time. It was just so so so pleasurable. I still feel all women should try multiple penetration. That's how good it is. And it really is. All women would love it and all men would be their sex slaves. Four men at the same time. I was in a very exclusive club. One in a few thousand. It was rarefied air. Very few had trodden (ridden) my path. And almost immediately I wondered what the experience with five men would be like. 'Airtight', with one in each hand too. How would that feel? And the other things, such as: Could I get them all in my body at the same time? What would that feel like? If four was so intense, five would be off the scale.

And it was. It was (and it remains) an experience of unmatchable erotic power and deeply sexual intensity. Nothing has come anywhere near close. Ever. And that was a few years ago now. And it was very hard to organise. It's not something that would be easy to replicate again. I can't praise my husband enough for being able to arrange it for me on the last day of that fantastic weekend. And for keeping it a secret. And still, it's not about the numbers, it's the experience of it. How it makes me feel. How it made me feel, physically, mentally, emotionally, psychologically. I had power and I still have power. Obviously, I wondered about sex with six men simultaneously. Was it even possible? I'll never know.

Since then, it's been a wide range of activities to feed my needs, my core. Yes, I could be seen as sexually aggressive by some, but that's only because I know what I want and I demand it. I've been an escort (totally unsatisfactory because it's usually one, or sometimes two men and they're very predictable and utterly conservative in what they want). I've been a sex slave several times, I've been to orgies, sex parties and dungeons many times. I still get moist just walking into a hotel for an adventure. I've kept Ann Summers and Love Honey going for years - my toy collection was the best ever. My outfit collection was extensive too - you wouldn't believe some of the shitty outfits men have asked me to wear over the years. I've worn them too. No shame, as I said. And I'd used every single toy often. Most have gone now - as you know, we've been off-loading them around the south of England for the last three years.

I've happily drunk two-man, three-man, four-man and five-man spunk cocktails, and been filmed doing so. I've been whipped, thrashed, trodden on. I've been written on countless times. Every word I said aloud got written on my body. I had my nipples pierced, then I immediately took the rings out the moment they got in the way of my pleasure. I've sucked off three celebrities and licked two celebrity fannies. Another famous man sodomised me (sodomy was his thing) while his wife watched. I've joined several husband/wife couples to help the spice things up a bit. Usually it's anal sex the wife won't let the husband do with them. They don't mind watching their husbands fuck my arse calling out their wife's name as they ejaculate into me. I did sit on one wife's face and made her tongue my anus clean as I sucked her husband hard again, but she was a cold bitch, so she deserved it.

I've fucked several of my husband's friends (one of whom is very well-endowed, which was a really pleasant surprise), three of them more than once, and I have a collection of over ninety photos taken by my husband to prove it.

I started an oral relationship with a man in XXXXXXX who had a micropenis. He was an artist. He is dead now. His wife was a lesbian with an older partner. He was 66 and I was 45. I sucked him off once, sometimes twice a month in exchange for paintings. His cock was far too tiny to insert. And he only had a little dribble when he came. But he loved sex. So I spat his come into a cup and asked him to use it in one of the paintings he did for me. That got him aroused, knowing he was using spunk he'd ejaculated into my mouth in his art. I could get him hard just by talking about having his cock in my warm mouth and his hot cum spurting (I said 'spurting' to him, but it was less than a dribble really) into it. I still have that painting.

I'm an out-and-out exhibitionist and I've gone totally naked so much in public I'd be very surprised if everyone in XXXXXXX hasn't seen me naked at one time or another. And I've loved every second of it. I've walked naked around hotels, gone into several bars naked and ordered drinks. I've gone naked into shops and bars. I've walked down streets in slut clothes. I've walked naked through every park in XXXXXXX. I've been to the theatre in nothing but a coat and shoes and taken my coat off once the show started. I've gone into hotel restaurants in see-through or virtually non-existent clothing and sat down to eat with people staring at me, approvingly and not. If I have to wear a bikini, I make sure it's the smallest one available. They're called micro-bikinis. I buy a new every year, often in the same pattern. When I used to go to cafes I wore very short skirts or dresses and no knickers. I always sat with my legs open. I'm happy for anyone to see my cunt. Despite its funny shape, I'm proud of it and like to show it off.

I've put on lots of lesbian sex shows for my husband and licked out over twenty women. I've gone naked on boat trips. I've put on sex shows for audiences of four and more men. I've stripped professionally aged sixty and got applause and generous cash tips from over twenty men and got a return request from the owner.

I've put on countless floor shows at parties for small crowds, I've pulled a train twice (7 men both times), I've been in a pornographic film in which I was gangbanged twice - once by three men and then by four men, while two other men (in the film) watched.

To be continued...