Dear Matt, My Husband

I turned my attention back to Chris, removing my hand from his balls to his shaft, encircling it with my fingers, and stroking while my tongue lapped everywhere at his bulbous head and shaft. When I'd liked all trace of taste from his cock and began blowing him in earnest. My hand at the base of his shaft limited how far the rest of him I could take into my mouth, and it was a good thing, because I don't think I could have taken more of him into me. I swirled my tongue around the top and stroked rapidly while I sucked him hard, just as fast.

Phoebe's videorecorder was practically in my face to capture the event. I assumed Rinaldo was busy photographing the plunder of my pussy behind me.

Oh, Matt, it was pure rapture, the invasion of my body from both ends, its utter and unconditional surrender to my needs and the men's desire.

And then I felt something I had NOT expected. A finger, undoubtedly that of Chuck, who no doubt wanted still to play a role in my disgrace, touched my butthole. Anal has never been my favorite, as you know, but this time it was bliss to feel that finger tapping at my backdoor. Chuck did so with more gentleness than I would have given him credit for. My sphincter resisted his effort, at first, but Chuck was determined. The finger pulled away and I heard him spit, and then it was back, wetter than before, playing in little circles around my hole. The circles spiraled inward, and the pressure increased, and soon the fingertip was pushing its way in. Then it slipped all the way in.

All three holes - filled for the first time of my life my men, all strangers to me an hour ago! Never had my body felt more defiled, or more ennobled. It was a homecoming of sorts, a reckoning with a part of me that had long slumbered but was now gloriously awake.

Chuck pushed down, and I could feel the pressure from both his finger and Andrew's cock pressing and squeezing my flesh that lay between them. It was a new sensation. While Chuck's finger pressed and twirled inside my butt, Andrew quickened his pace. He groaned and grunted.

"Lissa, Lissa."

I tried my best to give Chris's cock its due, but the assault on my body from all sides was distracting. Chris didn't seem to mind. He called out, "Oh yeah, Lissa," and from the way he pushed his hips back in rhythm with my sucking I felt he was drawing near his finish.

So was I. The tide rose inside me, swelling in waves of increasing intensity.

"Come for us, Lissa," Chris said between groans.

I could hold back no longer. The wave crested and crashed, and my body buckled. I'm not sure how I kept it up. Chris came in my mouth at the same time, and the explosion of cum in my mouth muffled my joyous cry at my orgasm. In back, Chuck's finger pushed down harder while Andrew stroked me furiously, and I heard, but could not see, Andrew's moment of orgasm as he cried out and his hands on my ass shook.

I looked up, with what I am sure was a look of pure, lewd gratitude, into Chris's eyes, and Rinaldo, who somehow had gotten up on the bed without my noticing, snapped photos of my face as I sucked Chris's long, dark organ and gulped down his cum. I cleaned off Chris's cock with my lips and tongue and then let it slip out of my mouth. It slowly receded in length and firmness.

My body spasmed a few more times as the finger and cock left my backdoor holes, and I turned over and fell against the mussed bedcovers on my back, legs and arms thrown back and askew. I closed my eyes and savored the sweet scent of the men's cum permeating the room, and the warm layer of sweat—theirs and mine—that lay over my skin. I stayed like that for at least a few minutes, and when my heart rate subsided, I opened my eyes again. Chris sat on the bed, on one side of me, and Chuck sat on the other. Their hands were on my body, lightly and gently caressing me. Andrew was on his knees between my legs, holding them back to continue exposing my thrice-fucked pussy to the view of the cameras. He puckered his lips and gently kissed the inside of my thighs, his touch like a butterfly alighting on a flower.

While Andrew kissed me below, I kissed Chuck and Chris in turn, letting them probe my mouth with their tongues. It was afterplay, not foreplay, like a sweet, subtle dessert after a bold, spicy meal.

How long did we stay like that? I don't know. Half an hour, maybe an hour. I lost track of time. The video will record how long we took, because it never stopped as long as I was in bed, being tended to. My hands ran all over their bodies and their hands ran all over mine with infinite patience and quietude.

It was a glorious sensation, but it was an intermission, not a conclusion.

I wasn't done.

No, Matt, not by a long shot.

There was one more thing Rinaldo and I had discussed, and to accomplish it Rinaldo had hired co-stars with a reputation as "quick rechargers." Even so, they needed SOME time, so we spent it celebrating our foursome with soft handplay.

I sat up and looked around at the three men encircling me. Their cocks were soft and floppy now, content for the moment to rest in a reduced condition. Men's cocks are so funny to look at when they recede—ravenous hard wolves one minute and gentle puppies the next. I took Chris's and Chuck's in hand and gently squeezed them while I looked into the camera and smiled.

Andrew lapped gently at the folds of my pussy while my legs hung over the side of the bed. It pleased and aroused me to know he was tasting a mixture of my cum intermingled with Chuck's and his own.

Chris kissed me softly and deeply.

"How did you like that, Lissa?" he asked.

"I loved it," I said. "Every second of it."

"Did you get what you wanted? Do you feel like a slut now?"

"Mmmmm," I replied. "I feel like a woman, more complete and interesting than I've ever felt before. But yes, as a part of that, I feel like a slut, and a whore, and a porn star. And I love it."

I looked into the camera again.

"My husband is going to love it too. What I've become. Or maybe what I've always been, but have just now realized I am for the first time."

Andrew's tongue probed me a little more deeply. There was no remnant of that exquisite discomfort that immediately follows an orgasm, that time when to let a man continue to fuck or touch me seems like torture. My pussy tingled at Andrew's touch, and I knew my body was ready to go again.

I felt stirrings of life in Chris's and Chuck's cocks, too. I wanted those cocks inside me again. They rose and grew and hardened until I knew we were ready for the second act of our drama.

Matt, when you see the video, I think you will appreciate what pros they were. Not just the pace and manner with which they fucked me, but the way they positioned and held my body to maximize my exposure to the camera. They knew how to make me look like a porn star, Matt, and it felt so good in that moment, finally, to be one. They were so good, I didn't have to do that much. I could just be me, surrendering my body to their control and expertise. I've never felt surrender so exquisite.

"It's time, boys," I said.

I scooted off the bed and stood up. They knew what to do because Rinaldo had discussed the basic script with them beforehand.

Andrew sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his cock with one hand while beckoning me toward him and playing with my pussy. I was definitely ready. When his cock was once again at full length, I turned around, and I sat in his lap. Andrew lay back on the bed, and I leaned far, far back, my hands to either side of him, and I lifted my hips. His cock stood up and my open pussy lips tickled against his shaft. But the pussy wasn't my concern. I lifted farther up, until the head of his cock hit my used butthole. Chuck handed me a bottle of lube, and I squeezed until the clear jelly dribbled over Andrew's cock head. When I thought there was enough, I reached between my legs with one hand and spread it all over the shaft, concentrating on making the tip as slick as possible.

I was ready. I steadied my ass over the hard shaft, and I lowered myself, pressing down. The bulb of his cock hit my butt hole.

Rinaldo had decided that Andrew would fuck my asshole, because he had the smallest cock, and we figured that the butt was where the biggest challenge would lie. That was, in retrospect, the right decision, but it still wasn't easy. My hole resisted, again, but not as much as before, because it had been trained and loosened just an hour earlier. Andrew's cock moved forward, slowly, into me. Soon it was all the way in, stuffing my asshole to the hilt. I looked into the camera, in front of me and just to the side of Chris, whose turn was next.

Chris stepped forward, between my legs and Andrew's. His cock was stroked to full readiness, and my pussy was lubricated, open, and ready. Because of his height he had to stoop just a bit to line himself up with my cunt, and then he pushed.

I moaned at once. A cock in my pussy and asshole at once time, Matt! What a sensation. A slut once more, but again in a new way. All for my pleasure—and yours, too! I'll bet you're stroking faster now, Matt. Go ahead. I know you're going to love this part.

I turned my head, knowing where Chuck would be: right at my side, knees on the bed. I took his hard waiting cock into my mouth and began sucking him.

Three cocks in me at once, my husband, filling and fucking me: ass, mouth, pussy. What had I done to deserve so much pleasure? To revel so utterly in the surrender to my sluttiness?

It wasn't easy to coordinate pace or rhythm. I tried to rise and fall on Andrew's cock in my butt, but it wasn't easy with Chris's snake twisting and writhing in me, holding me down. The best part was feeling both cocks moving inside me in parallel, even though guided in different ways by their different owners and feeling of the added pressure against my insides of two cocks, not just one. With all the attention to my pussy and ass it was doubly difficult to focus on Chuck's thick cock, whose girth stretched my lips to their limit and pressed my tongue the floor of my mouth. Chuck put a hand to the back of my skull, fingers entwined with my hair, to keep me from pulling off him. I wanted to say something—anything—to express the intensity of my pleasure, but all I could say was a muffled, "Mmmph!"

A new pleasure arose when Chris reached out and pressed two fingers over my clit hood, and then began spinning tight circles with his fingers around my engorged pink button. Every pore of my body burned with delight.

I wanted to see it all, Matt, to take it all in, but I couldn't because of Chuck's control of my face. My view was limited to the striated abs of his torso, the bulging pecs of his chest, and his eyes, which bored him mine with fiery intensity every time I looked at him. From time to time, I saw Phoebe and Rinaldo moving around and recording and photographing the scene from every possible angle. I couldn't wait to see the results later and to find out how I looked as a performer of pornography.

If I couldn't see everything, at least every other sense burned with white-hot intensity. I heard the grunts and exclamations of Chris, Andrew, and Chuck as they plundered my body and stripped away every last pretense of innocence or modesty. I smelled the rich aroma of cum and sweat in the air. Oh, and the touch of those three young, fit bodies and their hard cocks on me and in me! That was the greatest sensation of all.

It was not easy. Being fucked by three cocks at once took its toll on my body. I felt sore in my ass, my pussy, my mouth, my thighs, and were it not for the rush of endorphins coursing through my veins I might have had to quit. But I did NOT quit, Matt, and you'll be proud, I think, to know that your middle-aged slut wife was determined to see this foursome to the end. I just had to hold on until the orgasm came, as I had no doubt it would.

I hope you're stroking harder and faster, Matt, as you read this, because I want you to come with me.

Andrew grabbed my hips from behind to facilitate the rise and fall of my ass-fucking so each stroke entered me more deeply before. It's such a different sort of stuffing than what one gets with a good pussy fuck. Chris accommodated Andrew's efforts, and his body rocked in a circular motion so he could rise and fall and pull in me and out of me at the same time. His fingers stayed on my clit, which I knew was reaching the end of its rope. The sensation of Chris's and Andrew's cocks in me in such close proximity was just too much to bear for much longer.

Chuck seemed to sense my state, and eased up just a bit, keeping the tip of his cock closer to my mouth entrance, giving me the chance to focus on my nether region. My blow job never wavered, but it didn't require as much attention as before. So my focus shifted to my pussy and my ass, and the sweet if intense coordinated assault they were getting by two cocks. I felt it again, as an emanation from my body's core—the impending release.

I moaned loudly through the muzzle of Chuck's cock to signal to them where I was. Andrew and Chuck kept up their steady rhythms in my mouth and ass, but Chris stepped up the pace and force with which he fucked my now-raw pussy. He groaned, too—a deep, bass, animal growl that profoundly aroused the wild feminine submissive in me. My surrender had nearly reached its climax.

Trained by experience, the boys held back their own orgasms and waited for me to come first. The onset of my own climax welled up inside of me and spread wave-like again until it engulfed my entire body. The sensation recentered into my loins and crested there, breaking over me. Evidently sensing how near I was, Chris pushed down with his fingers and thrust harder with his cock. My orgasm came at last, and with it a fountain of wetness gushed and splashed over Chris's cock. I squirted, Matt, for the first time. Chuck pulled his cock out at the same time to let me scream with joy. Andrew lifted my ass off his cock and Chris withdrew his cock from my pussy and I fell back on the bed moaning and crying, my limbs shaking. I looked down, between my legs, and my cum spritzed out of me in little gushes and streams, wetting the bedcovers.

When the squirting stopped, Chuck pushed against my chest until I was flat on my back, and Chris, Chuck, and Andrew gathered about my chest and face while stroking their cocks. This was a part of the script I hadn't helped write, and I was surprised but delighted—they would pay tribute to me by spraying their cum on me.

It didn't take long. Chuck came first, thick ropes of milky cum splattering my cheeks and mouth and my eyebrows. I opened my mouth wide and stuck my tongue out and was glad to feel a glob of his cream coating it. Andrew and Chris came in quick succession, splashing and coating my breasts with their own streams of jism. Each of them milked their cocks until every last drop was on my face or body. The camera hovered over me, catching everything.

When they were done, they backed away a foot or two to give Rinaldo and Phoebe more room to record the final chapter of my obscene display. I grinned and lay back and scooped more of Chuck's cum into my mouth, greedily and happily. With my other hand I rubbed Andrew's and Chris's cum into a coat of sticky spunk all over my torso.

"I loved that," I said. I cannot imagine how I could have felt more bliss at that moment.

"You were magnificent, Lissa," Chris said. "You still are. God, look at you."

Andrew and Chuck nodded and murmured in agreement.

"Gentlemen," said Andrew. "I propose a toast." He left the bed and fetched and half-filled three of the champagne flutes, handing two to the others. They approached me again.

"To Lissa," said Andrew. He poured a teaspoon of champagne into my belly button and lapped it out. Chris and Chuck poured similar amounts on my erect nipples. They took my tits into their mouths and sucked the nipples while the bubbly streamed over and around them. Andrew poured the liquid over my clit and I felt it enter the channel between my labia, tickling them. Andrew drank it up, and I squealed with mixed delight and torment, because my pussy was still so raw. Chris poured some into my mouth, and his tongue entered me and we tasted the champagne together. It had lost much of its fizz since our fucking had begun, but it was still cold because it had been kept in the ice bucket, and I liked the way our tongues danced together to share the taste.

The men doused me with their champagne over different parts of my body until their glasses emptied and they had finished sucking and slurping my body.

I sat up at last, my body gloriously spent, sticky, and used.

"Thank you, gentlemen," I said. "That felt magnificent. More than this girl could possibly have hoped for."

"You're no girl, Lissa," Chris said. "You're a real, bona fide slut."

"And a porn star," said Andrew.

"And a whore," said Chuck. "A cheap one. How do you feel about all of that?"

"I love it," I said.

Matt, I wasn't lying. I was no longer play-acting and pretending. I WAS all of the things they called me, and in that moment of the culmination of my abject descent into degradation, I loved it more than anything.

Each of them took turns holding me and kissing me, while the others caressed my nude body. I didn't want it to stop, Matt, to tell you the truth, but my body was worn out and I needed to give it a rest.

Soon after, when the kissing and fondling were done, they pulled away from me, and I turned to Phoebe's videocamera, blew it a kiss, waved, and spoke.

"Love you, Matt. Bye for now, my husband."

The videocamera held its focus on me for another 15 seconds, and then the green light went off. We were done.

I don't need to tell the rest in detail. My co-stars quickly dressed and left after getting paid in cash by Rinaldo. Phoebe took down the equipment. Rinaldo urged me to use a small shower attached to his dressing room, and I gratefully accepted, enjoying the hot spray of water and the flow of cum and sweat and soap suds off my body. When I was done, I dressed and hugged Rinaldo with tears of gratitude. To be honest, I think he might have been as grateful as I was. And probably surprised, too. I said goodbye to Phoebe and Rinaldo and drove back to my office, where I tried with limited results to concentrate on my work until it was time to go home to you.

I wondered, when I got home at 5:30 pm, if you would sense anything different about your wife, but you didn't seem to. You were eager to talk about a short story you had just finished, and I was perfectly willing to be quiet and listen to you.

I felt a newfound sense of admiration and love for you, and gratitude, for having led the way for me to explore a new dimension of myself.

Four days later, Rinaldo sent me the digital files of the photographs and the video. I spent almost a whole day at the office doing little but scrolling through them and marveling at how utterly exposed my body was, and in what exquisite, artistic, high-resolution detail Phoebe and Rinaldo had recorded the entire episode.

Before seeing their work, just a trace of uncertainty settled in my mind. I knew without a doubt how I felt about my experience and my new self: utterly affirmed and dedicated to continuing it. But I didn't know how I would look. Now I did. I looked great, Matt. You'll see that soon.

Rinaldo called me to say he had shared the photos with a few of his photographer friends, and they all agreed I had great potential as a MILF-style model and adult performer. That settled all doubt.

I want that Matt. I want more of it. Does it surprise you to know that your loving wife, once so modest in public, now eagerly—almost desperately! —wants to pose and perform in this way? I do, Matt, I do. I think you do, too. In taking the steps we have over the last couple of months, we have surprised each other.