Betrayal: Smoe Implies Fire

Warning: This story contains a rape scene, incest, and non-consensual sex.

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I was just 19 and a sophomore in college when I married Brad. It was because of my parents, especially my father: He was violently opposed to me having premarital sex. Since Brad and I were in love, we were clearly going to have sex, and to get my parents off my back we got married.

Once we were married, my father was fine. I was now Brad's problem, and he left me and my sex life alone, thank goodness.

Some people get married and live happily ever after, I'm sure, and get old and die together. We were not those people, and we were too young, and too immature (especially Brad) for our marriage to last.

There were all these luscious college girls all around him dressing provocatively, and while his "home cooking" (me) was considered by everyone to be pretty and sexy, he seemed to be obsessed with what he was missing.

I tried mightily to compensate for his prison of monogamy, and I was willing to do lots of his kinky requests in order to keep him happy. Just coming home to me and making love was not enough for him.

We would do the deed in parks, where people could stumble upon me naked and being ravished. We would sneak up to a bedroom at a party and do it.

One time we did it in the stacks of the library. Brad liked the poetry of that, since he always referred to me as 'stacked.' We did lots of outrageous things.

Another time, in the summer, we were at a party and Brad and I sneaked out to the back yard, which was pretty small actually, and Brad put a lot of pressure on me to have sex back there. I reluctantly agreed, after he promised to do the dishes for a week. I quietly took off my panties and pushed up my skirt.

That was not good enough for Brad. He wanted me completely naked. "But there are people all around," I said. "What if someone decides to take a look at the garden? They'll see me naked. I would die of shame."

I was not being entirely truthful, and Brad knew it. He knew my penchant for exhibitionism, but he also knew he had to push me or I would never do it. He pushed. He pushed hard, but I said, "I agreed to sex with you out here! I'm exposed with my skirt up and my panties off. That should be enough!"

Long story short, we argued like this for a solid five minutes before Brad finally beat me down and I let him get me naked. He kept his clothes on, of course. Only I was to be naked. Then he put me on all fours. I was already soaking wet from the argument about how we were to have sex, partially clothed or naked, so his cock slid right in. I was totally turned on.

It turns out we were watched by two men who had come outside to smoke. I saw them there right after Brad shot his load into my pussy. I had already cum during the fuck. The men were staring at my naked body and had certainly watched at least part of our sexual activity. For all I knew, they watched the whole thing, including my body shaking when I came.

I was devastated and humiliated, but my feelings then were too complicated for me to parse. I had not realized the full extent of my exhibitionist desires, and I was also turned on immensely by the idea of the men watching us calmly, while they smoked.

But the dominant emotion was one of anger with Brad, first for pressuring me into having sex in such a hugely risky way, and second for requiring me to be naked, removing the possibility of quickly covering up should we be discovered or have been about to be discovered.

I also think, and this is so unfair it still makes me mad even now as I write this, that Brad began to lose respect for me for having fucked him naked in the back yard of the party. He was disgusted I could behave like such a slut, and have so little self respect that I would agree to do such a thing.

Looking back, that was the turning point in our marriage. Things were never the same after that.

Four months later Brad left me. He shacked up with a fat girl, and I got a divorce. Once I was divorced, men came after me in hordes. After all, I was only 21 and already divorced, I was pretty, and they assumed I wanted to play around a bit. They were right.

I am not even sure how many men took me to bed during that wild six-month period, but it was a lot. I had no self-esteem left and needed constantly to be reassured men desired me. Being so easy to get into bed and so promiscuous was perhaps not the best way to re-establish self-esteem, however.

I was not even sure if men wanted to bed me, or if they just wanted to get laid by a new girl. But given my behavior, which was almost like an addiction, I decided to make the most of it, and I used all these men to hone my sexual technique. It was not easy, since different men want different things.

I learned about Kegel, and I did my exercises. I became accomplished at controlling my vaginal muscles. That can make a man go nuts.

Some men wanted to seduce me, and I had to be reluctantly convinced to go to bed with them. Occasionally I had to be very reluctant. Some men responded well to letting them look down my blouse when we'd go on a date, and others would get turned off by that, thinking I was a cheap slut. I guess I was a slut, I was just not cheap.

Some men wanted me to have sex with their friend or friends, too, but I always said no to that. I just did not like that sort of thing. But it was knowledge that some men were like that, and I filed it away.

As for doing the deed itself, some men wanted me compliant and submissive, others wanted me to take charge. Some wanted me clothed in schoolgirl outfits, and others wanted to tie me up.

But the majority wanted straight sex; the most adventurous those men would get is wanting to do it in a variety of positions. They all, universally, wanted to take pictures of me nude, or videos of me masturbating. That did not happen. Never.

The universal turn-on was if I showed them I liked the sex. This was easy, and I simply moaned, or said 'mmmm' or cried out "Oh my God," or "Yes!! Just like that. Harder, deeper!"

Often I actually meant it, sometimes I just did it anyway, but men always, always liked that. Sometimes I faked an orgasm and sometimes I did not have to fake it. Not even a little bit.

Except one guy. He wanted to hurt me, for me to be punished, like a 'bad girl.' That was the one time I did not like it at all. He forced himself on me before I was ready, and before I was wet. It hurt when we did it.

My vagina actually bled. His language was vile, insulting, and obviously offensive. He wanted to tie me up and to whip me, but I got rid of him quick. You can't be tied up unless you trust the guy. It's just common sense. I did not trust him.

I settled down and acquired three steady boyfriends. This may not seem like settling down, but given my prior behavior, I assure you that it was. Each of them were okay with my sleeping with the other two, as long as I always wanted to go to bed with them.

Bill and I dated Mondays and Saturdays, John got Tuesdays and Fridays, and George got Wednesdays and Sundays. Thursdays were just for me.

Sometimes however I would accept a date on Thursdays. That was how I met Mike. Mike and I really hit it off, and I dropped Bill, John and George to concentrate on Mike, whom I was crazy about.

I was a little disappointed that Bill, John and George took it so well, and each of them easily moved on and found other women. But I was also relieved.

Now that I was monogamous again, I was determined to make it work. Mike was two years older and already in the work force, and I had just graduated college and started nursing school.

Mike always thought I was too pretty and sexy to hide, and he pushed me into exhibitionism. He did not have to push too hard, since as you may have inferred by my wild behavior with my ex-husband Brad I was kind of into mild exhibitionism and risk in any event.

Mike was also one of those men who wanted me to have sex with his friends while he watched. I shot that down so fast it made his head swim. I compensated for not doing things like that by, essentially, doing almost anything else.

Mike was kinky and he liked to tie me up for sex. I wanted to keep him happy, so I complied. He bought bondage restraints, and he liked to tie me to the bed, spread eagle, and then have his way with me. He also wanted to take pictures of me like that but I said no.

We had a fight, and we compromised. I would wear a blindfold, hiding my identity, and then he could take pictures if he wanted to. I had one strict rule: The pictures were only for him, no exceptions!

I had the perfect body for pictures: I was a little thin and the camera adds pounds, so I looked perfect in the photos. Plus, my boobs were big, and that's what men like to look at: a girl's pussy and her boobs.

I don't really think a girl's pussy is her most attractive feature from a photogenic standpoint, but as for boobs, mine were gorgeous, according to Mike. I think he was right: To be honest, I know I have a hot body.

I let him tie me up like that once every two weeks. That was another compromise. He seemed happy with the arrangement. Moreover, he became creative with his sexual techniques when we did it that way. Sometimes it felt like he was a completely different person, the way he fucked me. It was fun.

He not only had new styles of fucking he used only when we did bondage, but he showed remarkable creativity in his ability to find new ways to fuck me. He seemed even to have the ability to alter his cock size.

It was hard for me to tell, since I was blindfolded, but one thing was for sure: His fucking was never routine when we did our bondage games, and I simply loved the variety of techniques he came up with and used on me.

Mike told me that when I was tied and bound spread eagle on the bed, he got off on my being helpless and being within his power. He did not want to whip me or anything, or hurt me in any way. He just wanted to possess me sexually and to have my total submission to his power and to his cock.

This perhaps should have been a warning sign to me, but if it were, I ignored it. Not only was I desperate to please him so that he would not stray, if I were honest with myself (and usually I am) I would have realized that I loved this idea.

It turned me on too, something fierce, to be bound, tied, naked, and spread eagle on the bed, for him to ravish with his powerful cock, or some sex toy like a dildo. I got off on being helpless, and completely within his power. It was a special kind of trust.

Since we were now a couple, we had friends who were also couples. In addition, he had some single male friends, and I still had quite a few single girl friends. I would make dinner parties fairly often and we would all get a little drunk, and sometimes stoned, and have a good time.

One of Mike's friends, Steve, liked to flirt with me. He was always telling me I had a hot body, and I should dress differently and show some skin. I told Mike this and to my surprise he told me to go for it.

What Mike actually said was, "Shit yeah, Joan. You should loosen up! Give my friends something to look at. Let them pine for what they cannot have."

We talked about it. He liked the idea of other men being jealous of the hot babe he had all to himself. I had told him about my wild behavior with Brad, and he knew how Bill, John, and George used to share me on their assigned days of the week, so he knew I was capable of most anything.

What he did not know was about the time one Monday when I went over to Bill's apartment, and John and George were there too.

I freaked out. I was okay with fucking three different men each week. Hell, back then during my wild days I could have gone home with a different man almost every week.

I had one universal caveat: all sex had to be on my terms, one man at a time, in a romantic setting. I was not ready for all three of them at once. I was a certifiable slut, but I was not a sexual marathon kind of girl.

The three of them pressured me relentlessly and gradually got me drunk. They told me if I did it this one time they would never ask for anything similar again.

I said, "Look. I'm happy, as you know, to make love with each of you, and we've been doing it for months now. You know I love all three of you. Why must I do you all at the same time? Is it just to humiliate me? Do you want to degrade me to be just a sex object? What's going on here?"

They had an answer to that; just not a good one. "It's our fantasy to have a gangbang, Joan. We know you love all three of us, so why not do us all at once, instead of only one at a time? It will be fun!" Bill said.

"It won't be fun for me. It will be gross. You three are sick, and I will not do it. I'm going home," I said, but I could not manage a tone of outrage. I tried, and failed. They could tell.

We went at this incessantly. The men tried to get me interested by kissing me, one after the other. That kind of worked, to my great annoyance. I just did not like the idea of a gangbang, even if I liked the men and hungered for each of them.

After a couple of hours of constant pressure from all three of them, plus a lot of booze, I finally caved. I caved by saying one simple word, after I was asked the 36th time: "Yes." The three of them had me do a strip tease (which they filmed), and then they each took me, one after the other.

When all three had laid me, they started in again. I fucked Bill and John twice, but George, who was actually my favorite, was having trouble getting going a second time. I think he was a bit grossed out by the gangbang. This only endeared him to me all the more.

George was embarrassed by his erectile dysfunction in front of Bill and George, as well as me, of course. I went over and started sucking his flaccid cock, nursing it back to life. It was beginning to stir.

I am a great cocksucker. Sometimes I get delusional and think that my cock-sucking (especially when I am naked with my boobs hanging out) could heal the impotent. The ads for Viagra or Cialis could list my services as an alternative. I can see it now: 'Try one of Viagra, Cialis, or Joan.'

I was making real progress with George when Bill surprised me. He is always randy and ready to go it seems. He recovers quickly after sex, and he came over and picked up my rear end.

He promptly entered me from the rear. This wrecked my plan to get George hard and then to offer him my pussy, since it was quite busy now.

I decided to give George a memorable blowjob instead, continuing all the way to ejaculation. It was not easy because Bill was really pummeling me, and that of course kept me rocking constantly.

As if that were not enough, John got on his back and slipped underneath me and began to play with my boobs as they bounced around due to the pounding Bill was giving me.

Not only would he tickle and caress them, but he tried to suckle on them as if he were an infant nursing. I have never understood why men like to do that.

In those circumstances I had to concentrate with all my force in order to give George a good blowjob. It was an intense situation. It was the first time I was ever servicing two men at once.

John's ministrations with my boobs was another sensual input that was hard to ignore. Nevertheless George blew his load in my mouth and later told me that not only was it the best blowjob he had ever had, it was the best imaginable. To be honest, I'm not sure how many blowjobs George had had at that point in his young life. But in any event, he was thrilled.

The upshot was that I had a total of one blowjob and six fucks that night, three of them from Bill, two from John, and one from George. Tuesday I was too sore to go out with John.

It was after that sexy but ultimately gross experience of a gangbang that I became a bit alienated with my three lovers. I became open to dating other men on Thursdays, and that was how I met the love of my life Mike.

As I said, Mike did not know about my gangbang with Bill, John, and George. Nobody knew. I was very ashamed. I told nobody, not even my confidant Mary.

Sometimes however I wondered if word had gotten out from one or more of Bill, John, or George. At times it seemed even as if Mike knew about it. There were little clues: things he said, or the way he would look at me when the subject of gangbangs arose.

It's not really a natural topic to arise in a monogamous relationship, that of gangbangs. But Mike seemed a bit too fascinated by the subject and he would raise it from time to time, usually right after we had sex.

I told him gangbangs make nice fantasies for both men and for women, but most women, including me, would never want one. That is when he would give me 'the look.' 'The look' implied 'Oh really Joan? Didn't you have one already with Bill, John, and George?' I think he knew.

Anyway, returning to the sartorial debate, Mike won; Mike usually wins. I began to show more skin when I dressed. Mike was enthusiastic and kept pushing me further, to show even more. I was beginning to think he wanted me to be nude.

It came to a head when I was having a dinner party and Mike's friend Steve was there. Actually, there were three single men there, one of my friends Mary, and another two couples. We were 10 people total, and the male female balance was a little off.

I was wearing a short skirt. Okay, it was a very short skirt; indeed, it was too short. It was what we call "crotch length." That I was wearing it was testament to my submission to Mike's wishes. My blouse was fine, it had long, billowy sleeves, and was made of a pretty pink colored cotton. But it buttoned.

Mike had pressured me to leave the top open with two buttons undone. Then when he had me a little bit drunk, he came over to me and kissed me in front of everyone and undid two more buttons, exposing quite a bit of my lacy bra. My bra was not meant for modesty; it was a shelf bra and it hid nothing.

I don't know how it began, but at some point, some Einstein got the idea that the four women should go without underwear. Claire and Michelle, the two married women, were initially reluctant, but after conversations with their husbands, they decided to support the idea. This surprised me.

That left Mary and me. Mary was unattached, the only single woman, and she was both modest and scared. She said no. I backed her up.

Steve and his friends Jose and Jesus (pronounced in the Spanish: Hey Zeus), both Latin men, started getting close to her and began to kiss her. She tried to pull away but they forced themselves on her.

I told them to leave Mary alone, but she said it was okay. She said that they actually kissed well. Then they pressured her to agree to their no underwear rule for the women. She caved, and agreed.

This left me as the lone holdout. I was not dressed to go without underwear. My skirt was too short. I was already occasionally flashing my panties.

My blouse was too thin: you could see my bra through it. That meant you could see what is underneath my bra if I were to remove my bra. My boobs would be on display.

Mike took me aside and said the men really wanted this, and it was harmless fun. "Don't be the killjoy at your own dinner party, okay?" He gave me one of his kisses that always melt me. I caved.

We four women went to my bedroom and all removed our underwear. The other three women had their boobs and their privates still somewhat hidden, but I felt as if mine were practically on display. But there was nothing to be done about it now.

When we came back we were greeted with raucous cheering. Steve was the most enthusiastic. He clapped the longest and cheered the loudest. Mike looked at me and beamed. He loved it when I was on display. Well, I certainly was just then!