A Wife a Slut an Addict

Introduction

The story you are about to read is exactly as it was related to me by Shannon. The only modifications made were for grammatical purposes and, in a few cases, to resolve some internal inconsistencies. The names were changed to protect the innocent (and the guilty). She claimed every word was true, but I have no evidence other than her statements. You will have to decide for yourself. The introductory paragraph following this one is the only part that was actually written by Shannon. I wrote the rest of the story from a number of sessions with her and a tape recorder.

Hi. I'm Shannon. I'm a recovering slut. I'm recovering in the same sense that an alcoholic that hasn't had a drink in two years is recovering. He's still an alcoholic, but he no longer drinks. My therapist says that it is the same for me, and always will be. Just as an alcoholic is still one, despite the fact that he hasn't had a drink in 20 years, I will always be a slut, even if I never again give in to those desires. Maybe my story can serve as a warning to all those potential sluts out there, but that's not why it exists. I worked with Rick to write this as part of my therapy. My therapist says that writing it all out in detail will help accelerate my recovery. I don't know if that's true, but telling the whole thing did feel, I don't know exactly, like I could breath again. In any case, good or bad, here it is.

Chapter I - I Meet my Inner Slut

My name is Shannon. I'm 32 years old, a wife and a working woman. And I'm a slut. I didn't always know that truth about myself. Until recently, I thought I was a normal, upstanding, moral member of our community. But now I know the deeper, hidden truth. This is the story of how I came to learn that truth.

It started not long ago when we hired Joe to help out with the gardening and odd jobs around the house. He was a kid from the neighborhood, 21 and out of high school a few years. My husband is out of town on business a lot, and there was always something that needed doing. I was never quite sure how my husband met Joe, but I certainly didn't care. He seemed good with his hands, and he sure was easy on the eyes. Joe is what you would call a Hunk, with a capital H. Six foot one, broad shoulders, narrow hips, hard muscles, great smile, and an even better ass. He usually wore tight jeans or shorts, and that made it very hard to ignore the very large bulge in his crotch. A bulge large enough to get this lady wondering about exactly what lived down there.

Despite the fact that I'm pretty good-looking, I've never been very confident with men. I think my nervousness is left over from an early "ugly duckling" period in grade school, but who knows. In any case, I've always had a tendency to over compensate by flirting. I meet someone new, feel a little uncertain, so I flirt, even tease a bit. It all feels very innocent to me, just a little smile, a touch, an "innocent" comment, but I guess it can be taken wrong. I was very nervous when I was first introduced to Joe. I don't think I've ever known anyone that was half as striking as he is. So maybe I teased a bit more than I usually do. I'd say something, he'd try to respond, and then I'd cut him off. It was easy for me, as anytime I wanted, I could end it by walking into the house. It became a game, at least for me. Just a bit of a laugh. I guess he didn't take it that way.

As I said before, I'm 32 years old. I have medium length, auburn hair. I'm 5' 6", 116 pounds, with a very nice figure that I work at keeping in shape. Since men always seem to want the stats, they are 35-24-34 with a cup that's on the edge between C and D. I may not be 24 anymore, but I'm proud to say that despite their fullness, my breasts still show only a hint of sag. My tits have always seemed a bit big for my frame, but I've been told by many men that I could model for some of those magazines, so I guess that's not bad.

Anyway, my "game" with Joe went on each Saturday for a number of weeks. I'd find a reason to go out in the yard while he was working there, wearing something that showed off my body. Nothing too obvious, just things like shorts and a shirt tied up under my bust, or a blouse that showed some cleavage and a pair of tight jeans. I forgot to mention it, but I've always thought that my ass was my best asset. My husband has always told me my breasts are, but I like showing off my rear better. The game was to catch him looking at me, and then to give him that secret smile that says, "ah ha, caught you." He tried to ignore me, but eventually I would catch him looking. What he didn't know, and what I wouldn't admit even to myself, was how excited my little game got me. Each time I caught him looking, a little jet of lubrication would shoot into my pussy. A couple of times I got hot enough so that my panties got wet, and I would have to hurry inside before anything might show. Of course, I pretended to myself that it was just a little innocent fun, but even then, deep down inside, I knew that more was happening that I wanted to admit.

The particular Saturday that it all came to a head, my husband had gone to a ball game with a couple of friends. I had put on a pair of very old, very short cutoffs. I knew that when I bent over, you could see a bit of my panties. This time, I came up with an excuse to do some planting in the area where Joe was working, so it would be really hard for him not to look at me. This time, his reaction was not at all what I expected. As I bent over in front of him for the third time, he turned to me and said, "Look lady, I really don't have the time for your bullshit today. I've got a lot to do, so could you take it somewhere else." I was taken aback, and I think I blushed a bit, but I tried to put on a bold front - "I don't believe I understand what you mean." "You know exactly what I mean" and he turned away, back to his work. Well, this really pissed me off, as I thought he had stepped outside of the rules of our little game. (Of course, he had never agreed to these rules, but that didn't matter to me.) I thought I would teach him a good lesson, so I went back into the house and changed. I took off my blouse and put on a really old shirt that was so thin it was almost transparent. At the last second, I decided that this wasn't enough, so I took off my bra and panties too. This felt like a bit much, but since the garden is enclosed and very private, only he would see. I'd put on a real show for him. Let him sweat a little! The thought of him looking at my body dressed like this had me pretty excited, but I ignored that. I shouldn't have.

I went back outside and sashayed near to where he was working. I got a reaction all right, but it wasn't what I had expected. He turned and looked right at me. In fact, he stared. The way he stared at me was just incredible. So direct. No hiding or looking away. He started at my feet, and his eyes slowly crawled up me until he was staring into my eyes. He seemed to look right through me, like he could see everything. Like he was measuring me, both inside and out. It made me shiver. It made me wet. I couldn't believe how turned on I was getting just from having him look at me, and I refused to think about what it might mean. I looked away and started walking back to the house. I let my hips sway just a bit more than normal, to pay him back a little more. I tried to say, "go ahead, look. You can't touch anyway." I'd find out in just a few minutes how wrong I was.

I went to get a drink of water to try and cool off the fire that was building in me, but it didn't do much good. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't stop seeing that gorgeous ass of his. And that bulge in his pants. I looked down and realized that my pussy was so wet, my juices were starting to show through my shorts. I thought I better go change.

Just then there was a short knock at the kitchen door. When I opened it, there stood Joe. The sweat glistened on his hard chest and washboard stomach. He asked for a glass of water. I said, "sure, help yourself" and stepped aside so he could come in. He closed the door and started for the sink, and then turned and gave me another look, from my feet up into my eyes, pausing briefly at my damp crotch. As if to deny what he saw, I gave him back my teasing smile. He took a step toward me and we were suddenly face to face. He said, "You think you're quite a cockteaser, but we all know that a cockteaser is just a slut waiting to happen. What you need is this." He unzipped his fly and pulled out the biggest cock I'd ever seen. It was only semi-hard, and it was already at least 7 inches. I was stunned. I'm not sure to this day why I didn't scream and run right then. If I had, my life would be a lot different, but I didn't. Maybe it was the jolt that ran from my tits to my pussy, the jolt that made me gush a whole new batch of pussy juice. I just stood there and stared, as, in the next few seconds, that monster grew to at least 9 inches, no, more like 10. It was so big around I'm sure I couldn't hold it in one hand. It was magnificent. Just as I started to come to my senses, he took my face in both hands and kissed me harder than I'd ever felt before. He moved so fast I didn't even have a chance to think of stopping him. While his lips ground into mine, his cock ground into my mound, fanning my fire.

That's when I realized how much trouble I was in. I pulled my mouth away and was finally going to scream, when he grabbed my by the waist and threw me down onto the kitchen table. God, he was strong! As I hit the table, my breath was knocked out of me for a second. It was all happening so fast, my mind was in a blur. Before I could recover my breath, he pulled open my shorts and dragged them right off of me. Finally, the reality struck me - I was going to be raped! But the image of that huge cock being shoved into my pussy flashed into my mind, and the biggest erotic jolt that I've ever felt flashed through my body. And just as this image hit me, he grabbed both legs inside the knee, pulled them wide, and pushed them up to my tits. Just as I got my breath back, I felt the knob of his cock at the entrance to my pussy. I felt completely exposed, completely open, completely helpless, and completely on fire. I have never felt so confused. The "good wife" part of me, the only part of me I had ever known, wanted to scream, fight back, anything, but that other secret self, the part that started me teasing him to begin with, wanted that cock.

As I felt the first couple of inches enter me, I think I was more afraid, more panicked, more turned on, and more wet than I have ever been. Shit, I wasn't hot, I was in heat. Despite that, the "good wife" yelled, (but not all that loud) "no, stop." He just replied, 'Bullshit, baby, don't tell me that. You're so wet, you're practically pulling me in." He started shoving more and more of that incredible cock into my hot, wet cunt. Each stroke went deeper. 3 inches, 4 inches, then 5. God was he big! 6 inches, 7. "Christ, is your cunt tight. You're going to be a great bitch." I didn't know what he meant then, but I learned. All this time (it was really only a few seconds, but it seemed like eternity) I couldn't move. It was just overwhelming. Now he had 8 inches in, now 8 1/2, and finally with one last thrust, he buried the whole of that prick deep into my drooling pussy, until I could feel his pubic hair mingle with mine, and his balls slap into my ass. I let out a long moan. I'd never felt anything like this before. I felt stuffed to the breaking point, but complete in a way I never had before. He touched every part of me there was to touch. All at the same time. I think I had a little orgasm right then, but it was all so unreal I wasn't even sure if I had come.

Then he started sliding his cock in and out. He pulled slooowly out, and then slid slooowly back until his balls slapped my ass again. He continued at that slow, deliberate pace. It was tantalizing, agonizing, tormenting. I wanted him to stop, I wanted him to go faster, I didn't know what I wanted. I moaned again, "Oh, oooooohhhh, God, No, No, oooooohhhhh." He knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted me to have the time to realize just how much I needed this. I think it was right then that the "good wife" started to understand just how real the slut in me was. He started moving a little faster, but every stroke was the full length of his prick. I stopped any pretense of fighting. I started moving my hips, picking up his rhythm. I didn't care any more what I had to admit about myself as I did that, I just couldn't stop. It felt soooooooo good. So right. He let go of my legs, and instinctively I wrapped them around his waist. He grabbed my breasts through that thin shirt, and started using them as handles as he picked up the pace.

Now we were really fucking, or rather he was fucking me and I was hanging on for dear life. Not only was I stuffed with more cock than I ever believed existed, but I had never felt anyone as strong and powerful. He was like an elemental force. He tore open my blouse, and started playing with my boobs. My nipples were like rocks. When I get really turned on, my nipples get so hard and long that they are just plain lewd. Now they were as hard as his cock, and at least 3/4 of an inch long. He twisted each one, and then both together. The mix of pain and pleasure drove me even more nuts. Then he leaned over and started sucking on them, moving back and forth between them, never stopping his pounding motion, which had been getting faster and faster. I started yelling, "Yes, yes, yesssss, oh my God yesssssss, oh, ohhh, ooooohhhhhh" and my first real orgasm took me by surprise and ripped right through me. I hadn't felt the usual build up, I just exploded.

It was intense, and fast. It passed quickly, almost too quickly. As I got my breath again, the "good wife" thought, well, he'll finish soon and at least it will be done. He'd been screwing me now for a good 10 minutes, which is just about as long as my husband (or any of the few other men that I had had before we married) ever lasted, so I figured he would come soon and be done - cum soon? OH MY GOD. I just realized that he wasn't wearing any protection, and I wasn't on the pill! I yelled, "wait, wait. Don't come in me. Please, please, you'll get me pregnant." He just smiled that slow smile of his and said, "Shit, that's you're problem. I don't care if I do. I'm going to fill that sweet, hot pussy of yours with more cum than you've ever had." And when he said that, God help me, but another of those electric jolts went right through me, from my tingling tits to my stuffed box. I couldn't believe it, but somehow the thought of him impregnating me only added to my fire. "But we got a ways to go yet" and he started pumping me even faster.

It was like he settled down to work, pumping continuously, and faster than anyone else I had ever slept with. You would think I would start to dry out and hurt, but I just kept getting hotter and wetter. Now I could feel my second orgasm start to build. It got bigger and bigger, swept me higher and higher. "He's got to come soon, no one has this much control" I thought, but he just kept shoving that huge meat deep into my core, slowly but steadily increasing his pace. In another minute he brought me to my second orgasm, slower, longer and even more powerful than the first. It's a good thing that he closed the door, because I screamed as I came. My nipples burned, my pussy spasmed, I bucked and humped against him, and he just kept pumping more diamond hard cock into me. I was in another world. Now I was yelling continuously, "Yes, yessss, more, fuck me more, harder, faster, oh god, ohhhhhhhh, yes fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." The little part of my brain that was still working couldn't believe what I was doing. I never use language like that (at least out loud), even when my husband brings me to orgasm. Still he fucked me, faster, harder, even more wonderful every second.

I'd lost track of time, I'd lost track of where I was, who I was, everything. The only thing I knew was the sensations flooding my body, my tits, and my slobbering cunt. The feel of his hands on me, his mouth on me, his big hard cock in me. And that was getting bigger! It wasn't possible, it couldn't be, but it was. His cock got even larger, even harder. I heard him start to grunt softly as he kept screwing, and then I started to come again. This time, it wasn't just one orgasm, it was a whole series, one after another, never stopping, just going on and on and on. "Aghhhhhhhh, yaghhhhhh, ugh, uhhhh, ohhhhhh," the sounds I was making didn't even sound human anymore. I just came and came and came. The experts say it isn't possible, that you can't cum continuously for 5 minutes, but I found out that day, on my kitchen table, that they don't know shit, because that's exactly what happened. And then, finally, right through the heat of that awesome continuous orgasm, I heard him yell, "Shit yes, I'm coming into your tight bitch cunt, Oh, yeah, here it comes, yesssss" and I felt the crown of his prick swell, and then he was filling my pussy with load after load of hot sperm. His cock spat over and over again, and as he pumped into me slower and slower, his massive hammer pushed that amazing load of come around my exhausted pussy and down my thighs in thick streams.

He pulled out of me, and I lay on the table, too stunned and tired to move. Slowly I started to return to reality from that other world of extreme pleasure where he had sent me. My eyes fluttered open and I saw the clock over the sink, above his head. I couldn't believe what I saw, but there it was. He had fucked me continuously, like a steam hammer, for more than 40 minutes. I realized that I was still lying there, completely exposed to him, with his come dripping from my pussy, onto the table, and down my ass and thighs. That's when the "good wife" started to assert herself again. I pushed myself up, off the table and started to tell him what I was going to do about his raping me, how I was going to call the police and, well, I wasn't exactly coherent at that point, just babbling. He just smiled his slow smile at me and said, "Yeah, right." With that he grabbed me by my hair at the back of my neck and pulled me toward him and down. "C'mon, you're not finished yet" and he pushed me down onto my knees in front of him.

He pulled me right in front of him so his prick was inches away from my mouth and said, "Clean it up, bitch. Clean my cock and balls with that slut mouth of yours. Get busy." I couldn't believe my ears. I would never even touch my husband's cock after we had sex, let alone take it in my mouth. I always made him wash himself clean. Now he wanted me to suck his come and my pussy juice off his tool. That's just when the slut showed up again. If I didn't believe my ears a moment ago, I couldn't even think about what was happening to me right then. As he held my face in front of his cock and I smelled that incredible musk made up of his sweat, my sweat, his semen, and my juice, my pussy started creaming again. For the first time, I thought to myself, "He was right! I am a slut. Only a slut would get turned on by this." But turned on was exactly what was happening. Another person seemed to take over my body, as I slowly leaned over and extended my tongue to lick along the underside of his prick.

I licked up the underside and down the topside. I had never tasted my own juices before, but I had been so wet that they were everywhere. I guess I could see a little of why my husband liked to eat me, 'cause it tasted pretty good. I had never really tasted sperm before either, except a little pre-come now and then. I never let my husband come in my mouth. It wouldn't have been ladylike. Now I was licking up large gobs from his prick and balls. It made me feel disoriented with shock, but I liked it. Hell, I loved it. Without him saying anything, I took the end of his cock into my mouth and started to suck on it. He was back to that semi-hard state that it started in when he took it out of his pants, but it was still an awful lot to swallow. I think I surprised him, but he just looked down at me and chuckled, "Jeez, you're not just a slut, you're an all time slut. Awright! Go for it, girlie." I started sliding his dick in and out of my mouth, taking as much as I could comfortably fit. I swirled my tongue along the underside as I bobbed my head up and down. The more I sucked, the wetter I got. I grasped his cock in my hands near the base. I needed both hands to get all the way around it, and as he started getting harder again both of them were hardly enough. He wasn't just big, he was enormous. He started getting larger and larger in my mouth, and it became a challenge just to see if I could keep the end of his prick in my mouth at all.