A Truly Slutty Wife Ch. 01

If you are under 18 years of age, kindly leave and do not read any further. All individuals in my tales, both real and fictitious, are themselves, over the age of 18 years old.

* * *

How many of you reading this, have fantasies about nasty, sexual things happening to your wife? Of course, before admitting anything to me you'd want to know what kind of nasty things I might be talking about. That's only reasonable.

I'm talking about your wife letting herself be led to a dark and private place by a man other than her husband. A place where she willingly spreads her sexy legs wide for another man. Perhaps a man she has only just met? I'm suggesting your wife lets other men push their hard cocks deep into her willing holes, to grope and feel her under her clothes and to kiss them sloppily and encourage them to take her and make her their whore.

I'll bet you've even encouraged your wife to dress a little more provocatively at times. A tighter this, a shorter that, with maybe a couple of buttons left undone... just to tease a little bit? Maybe she's the one who leads you along and takes the initiative to add that little bit of spice to your relationship? Don't you love the heels she wears? Other men are loving them too, you know.

Have you ever dared to imagine your sexy wife letting go of her conservative ways and becoming a hotwife? A slutty skank that lets other men use and abuse her? If you're like my two friends here in this story, you may just need a little help to get you over that ridge and into the garden of oh so good, but so deliciously nasty. Who knows... perhaps your wife will be my next little project. We'll see.

This story is about a couple who had just a few too many fantasies, to keep them all bottled up and hidden away in their dark little closet. They'd done the best they could to feed those desires so sparingly; hoping that a little taste would satisfy them and not encourage them to grow ever more.

Why does that never seem to be good enough?

Happily for me, they were brave enough to seek me out, when their rather weak efforts to satisfy their demons didn't work too well. And in spite of all of those naughty desires, I still managed to shock them to their very souls, with the adventure I took them on. How delightful it was!

I've let Ron go first to tell their story from his point of view. Enjoy his tale, but keep in mind as you read it... I might have a few ideas for you and your Mrs too, when your demons can't be contained any longer. I don't think Ron and Brenda have regretted it...

* * *

My name is Ron and I am 45 years old. Brenda and I have been married for almost 20 years. St. John asked me to share my experience of watching my wife's training and tutoring that helped release the slut Brenda really wanted to be. I'll do my best, but I'm not much of a writer.

Brenda and I had been swinging for a little over a year and it was fun, but we couldn't quite find our place in the lifestyle. The women were nice, don't misunderstand me, but I was more interested in watching Brenda and what she was doing, than I was in the other wives. Brenda was having fun, but the guys were really only about fucking and little else. She is quite shy and needs someone to help her get into it. Most of the husband's ideas for getting the ladies into it, were a dance or two, then feel her up, or a drink or two, then let's fuck. Brenda's a great woman and horny as can be with me, but she needed someone to put in more of an effort and create all this horniness she had fantasized about when we first said we'd like to give swinging a try.

Reading this, I'm sure you can sense that there are a lot of 'buts' and not a lot of crazy hot fun.

We did meet one couple that we seemed to share more in common with than just sex and it was one night when we were out for coffee that St. John came up in the conversation. We had stopped going to the clubs and our friends had noticed something wasn't quite right. Brenda had shared with Janine, the other wife, our disappointment with what we had encountered so far.

Janine and Brenda talked while her husband, Barry and I talked about sports. Janine seemed to know exactly what was wrong, because she had had similar experiences. She wanted more pizzazz from the guys and Barry was only marginally interested in the other wives. She explained how they had first met St. John and what he did for her specifically that affected them so immensely! He was, what Janine called, a slut coach and he introduced them to a version of hotwifing and cuckolding that they had no idea could ever happen and took their sex lives to a whole new level. This coach worked with both of them, but specifically, Janine and turned her onto things that literally blew her mind and opened it up to not just embrace the slut within, but to put it on steroids!

They still frequent the swing clubs, because they enjoy socializing and schmoozing with like-minded people, but for the really hot action in their life, they have an entirely different set of acquaintances. By the time we said our good nights that evening, Brenda was sold on trying St. John. She wasn't just interested in meeting this special guy... she was ready to call him as we were driving home!

Janine had sold her, but I was more cool to the idea. I liked Janine and Barry, but I wasn't as sure as Brenda was, that this guy was going to make our sex life takeoff for the moon.

A week passed and we talked about calling St. John. Brenda cooled down from the high that she was on that night talking to Janine and she too had a few twinges about getting together with a single guy and letting him tinker with our sex life. I didn't want to be the wet blanket that spoiled things, so we agreed that I would call St. John and check him out. Hell, we didn't even know if he was even interested in helping us.

To make a long story short, however, I called.

***

I was sitting in a booth, in a quiet corner of a little coffee shop downtown. It was mid-afternoon and the lunch crowd had cleared out and there were only a few other tables with anyone sitting at them. This was the place where St. John had told me to meet him at 2:30. I was nervous as hell. As I added cream to my coffee, my hand was actually shaking a little. If meeting a stranger was not uncomfortable enough, I was sitting there with 5 things in my pocket that I was told to bring with me and to be quite honest... well, I thought it was a pretty strange thing to ask me to do.

I looked at my watch as the door opened and a guy walked in all by himself. It was precisely 2:30. He did a quick look around and walked towards my booth.

"Ron?" he inquired.

I nodded my head and he slipped out of his jacket and slid into the booth opposite me.

"St. John Smythe," he smiled as he shook my hand. "It's spelled like St. John."

The waitress came over and took his order for tea and a grilled cheese sandwich. She seemed to know him. I was too nervous to eat, so coffee was all I wanted.

I must say that first impressions being what they are, he was very easy to talk to. Before he even mentioned sex, we'd talked football and hockey and what we each did in our careers. By the time he'd finished his lunch, he had me completely relaxed and quite liking him. The 5 things in my pockets, however, were both on my mind and bugging me a bit still.

Cherry pie was next and he insisted if I wasn't on a diet or anything like that, I had to join him. And I did.

Over the pie he broke the ice and told me exactly what it was that he did for women like Brenda and how I was going to be very happy with the outcome too... if I was actually ready to step off the cliff... as he put it. I had already told him on the phone about being into swinging and all. He asked a lot of questions about our sex life and about Brenda in particular. Who's idea it was to call him. Had we really discussed taking this next step... whatever that meant. Did I enjoy watching my wife getting fucked by other men. Did it make me feel jealous? Did I suffer any penis insecurity if the other men had larger penises than mine? And on and on the questions flowed.

Now in fairness, I must say, that the way he asked all of these questions was with a sincerity that really relaxed me. I'd never talked to someone with his education before, but he never made me feel intimidated or that something was wrong with me because we were seeking this kind of help. In fact, the more we talked the easier I found it was to talk to him and he had me telling him way more than I had ever told anyone before, about myself, my wife and our sex life. I'd have to say that he was... mellow and smooth. A nice combination when dealing with such an awkward subject.

He asked me to describe what turned me on about watching another man make my wife cum hard, especially if he had a bigger cock. Was I more interested in my own orgasm with the other woman or watching what the husband was doing to my wife?

Had Brenda ever stepped out of our marriage and cheated on me? Had we ever had a threesome with another guy and what I felt about being in such close proximity to another man and his cock? Was I bisexual? Was Brenda interested in being with another woman? Had she ever been?

Before meeting St. John, I don't think that I would have ever considered answering questions like those, but that afternoon... the answers came easily.

We talked like this for over an hour before he told me what he expected from us. He explained that all of these questions were to both familiarize himself with us as a couple and to test me to see if he thought I realized what we were getting into and how it was going to affect our relationship. How Brenda was going to change and what that change was going to mean for me. He told me that he'd met with a few husbands who'd cratered right at this meeting. Better to find out right at the start than half ways through.

One strange question he asked me, was for me to tell him what a slut was and what my personal definition of that 'noun' was. I felt like I was back in school. I'd never thought that deeply about it before but, he explained, that if he was going to awaken Brenda's slut, then I had to be of a like-mind and be able to enjoy and celebrate the new her. I'd never met anyone before that had turned fucking into a university course!

He laid out how we were going to move along and that the next meeting was with both Brenda and myself and that it would occur over dinner at a restaurant of his choosing. His treat... all right! He wanted Brenda to open up like I had and promised a nice evening for all of us.

He added that before we would began his coaching, there would be a third meeting... just Brenda and himself. More details on that after our dinner out.

He also said, once her training began, Brenda would be having sex with both himself and other men that he would choose for her. She could decline any request he made of her, but after the second pass, the training would be terminated and he would wish us all the very best and we'd have to continue without his help. He was indeed serious about all of this.

By the time we were finished our chat, I realized that swinging was only the first level of a more adventurous sex life for people like us. That Brenda was going to meet men that were going to blow the lid off of her world and I was going to be a grade A cuckold and loving every minute of it. I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but I actually had an erection after talking to St. John.

I had forgotten about the items in my pockets, but as he was putting his jacket on, he asked if I had brought the things he'd asked for?

"I'd like you to show me the photos first, Ron," he said.

I took them from my breast pocket and handed the envelope over to him.

"I know this sounds like a stupid question," I began, "but I'm sure you can see our concern..."

"I know what you're thinking, Ron and you needn't worry. No one will ever see them except me

and no... I would never post them on the internet. You have my word as a gentleman."

I watched as he took the 4 photos from the envelope. They were of Brenda naked and posed specifically as he requested.

The first was of her laying stretched out across our bed on her right side. Left leg bent at the knee, her upper body raised with her head resting on her right hand and wearing black stilettos and a string of pearls around her neck.

The second photo was a side view of her posing on all fours with her large breasts hanging down.

Photo number three was her on her back in the centre of the bed, legs wide apart and her knees tucked right up to her shoulders. Her pussy shaved smooth and exposed for all the world to see.

The final photo was the one that really bugged me, but by the time I finally gave them all to him, I had lost most of that uncomfortableness. It was of Brenda, posed in our garage, without shoes and on her tiptoes. Her hands were tied together by a rough rope and pulled high above her head and tied so she was stretched like a side of beef. On the smooth skin of her belly was taped a white sign that said in easy to read black letters...

I AM A SLUT

AND NEED IT

VERY BAD!

St. John smiled and slipped the pictures back into their envelope and tucked them into his pocket. I just sat there.

"And my other request?"

I reached into the other pocket of my jacket and pulled out the sealed sandwich bag.

"Brenda wore these for 2 days?"

"Yes."

"Excellent!" he said with a smile.

We stood up and were just about to walk out of the place when St. John spoke again.

"Before we part company, Ron, I'd like to ask you one more question if you don't mind... If I asked you to rate Brenda's behaviour with regards to sex, would you describe her as a perfect lady or an outrageous whore? What would you tell me? And before you answer, tell me which one you would like Brenda to be?"

I looked at him in disbelief, that he would refer to my wife in such a term. Anger once again welled up inside of me and I wanted to punch him right in the mouth! He could see my anger, but continued to just stand there waiting for me to answer --that calm, cool, confident look on his face. I got myself back under control and thought before speaking.

"I'd say somewhere in between, I guess."

"Somewhere in between? You mean a little like a lady and a bit of the raunchy whore?"

"Yeah, I guess..." was the best I could come up with just being jumped like this.

"May I ask you then... why would you seek out the services of someone like me?" he said continuing to stand there and just calmly look at me.

I didn't understand what had suddenly happened. I was about to leave with an erection straining against my pants and feeling quite good about all this a moment ago and now I was upset again and angry. What kind of an asshole was this guy?

The silence between us was deafening and I wanted to say anything, just to relieve the awkwardness that I was feeling at that moment. Then he threw me a lifeline.

"It's important to think about, wouldn't you say?" he asked with a smile on his face. "I'm not only going to unleash Brenda's inner slut, but you're going to experience monumental changes as well."

I listened as his voice went lower and he slowed the speed of what he was saying. As he did this, suddenly the anger and awkwardness I was feeling just melted away and I was listening intently to his every word again.

"I want you to want, for you and Brenda, the same things I want for you. I don't do a little bit slutty... Brenda, I believe, already is that. What I am about to do is make her crave cock 24 hours a day, 7 days a week... exactly the way you can't stop thinking about sex yourself. She's going to want to fuck your neighbours, your boss, some guy she just saw at the grocery store... anyone and everyone!

I continued to stand there and listen to him, but with a roaring hard erection in my pants again!

"But I want you, Ron, to be absolutely, back flip crazy about what she is doing too. I want you to be in such a state that you can't keep your hands off of your cock. I want you to have as many orgasms, everyday, as you can possibly stand! Your wife is going to learn how to suck cock like you've never experienced before... yours and everyone else that she fancies. I want her to be eager to open her legs, to bend over or lay down... on a bed, across the hood of her car, over the sofa or in a field... wherever, to have a nice screw or a really hot raunchy fuck! Are you listening, my friend? Are my words sinking into your very soul?"

Whoa! My cock was actually jumping to the rhythm of his voice. I was picturing Brenda fucking my neighbour, my boss... my best friends. My breathing was shallow and my heart was pounding. I couldn't help myself. If he'd kept describing those things, the way he was, I was going to cum right there in front of him without so much as even touching myself! Jesus Christ, I thought to myself, this guy has had me going up and down like a yo-yo!

"You might like to think about the pictures I've painted in your mind for you. You may really enjoy the adventures I've got planned. You may like to think about it a lot, Ron... until we speak again. Your fence is neither yellow nor green."

And with that, he touched my arm as he walked past me and out into the late afternoon sunshine. I felt a little disorientated for a moment, then all was well and I too went out into the world outside.

St. John called a few days later and plans were made for the 3 of us to meet for dinner. He spoke to Brenda for a little while during that telephone call and I could tell that he was asking her questions just like he had done to me. She went into another room to continue the conversation and told me when she came out later that she didn't feel comfortable answering him in front of me. She did say, though, that she felt a little funny while she was talking to him, but she couldn't put a finger on just what it was. Not funny in the sense of being uncomfortable, but more in an odd state of mind. I had told her all about our meeting, but neglected to tell her about the conversation just before we left and that I had had an odd feeling too.

Dinner was an experience, to say the least, but I will let Brenda describe the events of the evening. I will just say this... I'm not sure who was tested more that evening, Brenda or me?

* * *

St. John began working his magic about 6 weeks after our first meeting and enough had happened already, that I was sure there could be little that would unnerve me or test my investment in this process. How naïve those thoughts proved to be.

It was the first time that Brenda was actually being picked up at our home by someone other than St. John. It was termed "a date" and I am not ashamed to tell you that my heart was pounding in my chest the entire day. I had been instructed to assist Brenda in various ways to prepare her for her evening out.

I went shopping with her for the dress she was going to wear. I bought her a matching set of bra, panties and garter belt and stood by her side as she browsed through the stockings looking for just the right seamed pair.

The afternoon of, I ran a warm bath for her and helped her bathe. Once out of the bubbles and dried off, I waited for her to do her hair and laid out her outfit for the evening on the bed. St. John had given her a small gift that she had been instructed not to unwrap until she was getting dressed for her date.

Before she did her makeup, she sat at her dressing table while I put a fresh couple of coats of bright red nail polish on her perfectly shaped nails. Brenda had beautiful long, sexy toes and just holding her feet in my hands never failed to give me a hard-on. Today, however, I'd had an excruciating erection ever since I first got out of bed!