I Am Not A Slut

Roger pulled out and rose to his knees, his thighs pushing my legs apart as he stroked his angry looking cock and I rubbed my clit, each of us staring at the other in lust. He groaned when he came and I watched as stream after stream of pearly white cum squirted from the tip of his cock and landed on my belly, my tits and even one overreaching pulse that hit my face and hair. My fingers brought me to one last orgasm as I felt the heat of his cum on my skin.

It was far from the last orgasm on the evening, but we did take a break, sitting naked in his kitchen sharing a bottle of wine before we went to their bedroom for more sex. He did everything he had done before, again and again, fucking me in positions I never knew existed. We slept briefly, awakening each other for yet more fucking throughout the night.

It was late when I awoke in the morning--ten or eleven. I was sore, my body stiff and covered with dried juices, his and mine. Roger was gone. My tennis clothes were neatly stacked on a chair next to the bed, along with the bag that held the clothes I had worn to the tennis club. There was a note. It said: "Had to get to work babe. You were great. Let's talk later, Roger. I want more of you." His phone number was written beneath the brief message.

I rose and walked, well limped, naked through the house, not considering the possibility Liz might be back. She was. I found her sitting dressed for work in the kitchen. She didn't yell or throw anything at me. She just smiled and asked, "Tough night?"

"Yeah I sprained my ankle," which was a world class dumb response, given I was walking naked through her house with her husband's cum dried on my tits.

Liz laughed and said, "Oh you need some coffee. Sit and let's talk."

"Coffee sounds great. But you're not going to scratch my eyes out are you?"

Liz laughed as she poured my coffee. She turned facing me with a cup of coffee in hand. Liz was a tall attractive woman. Her long, thick, hair was a lustrous, dark brown with a few blonde highlights, her hazel eyes large and round. She had high sensual cheek bones, her lips coated with a pale lipstick. Her eye makeup was subdued but perfectly focused attention on her eyes. She wasn't particularly buxom, her breasts making small mounds beneath her silken blouse. Below her narrow waist were trim, firm hips followed leading to long, lean legs covered only to mid-thigh by her skirt. She was built like a fashion model, which I would later learn she had been before she met Roger.

"Carolyn," she said as she put the coffee before me. "If I scratched out the eyes of every woman my husband seduced, I wouldn't have any fingernails left." She held up both hands showing lengthy beautifully manicured nails. "Roger and I have what most people call an open marriage. I knew when I married him that he was going to chase other women and he knew that I would do the same."

"The same?" I asked.

"Yes," she responded. "I like sex with women. Have you ever tried it?" She was sitting in a chair alongside the table, leaning back her long nylon clad legs stretched out before her, her ankles crossed. She wore dark sling back pumps with tall heels; in all, a very sexy look.

"Women?" I asked, wondering if I was being propositioned again.

She smiled and nodded.

"Uh... No...No I haven't." I took a long pull on the coffee and shook my head to clear it. "But so if you are lesbian, why did you marry Roger?"

"Oh I'm far from lesbian," she said, giving me a lewd look. "Yes, I love to eat pussy and have my pussy eaten by a woman who knows what feels good. But don't misunderstand me, I love cock too. I love to get fucked by a good cock, to jack it, to rub it on my nipples, to suck it, to watch it squirt. Ummm, yes." she licked her lips. "Life would be a dull place without good hard cocks. As I believe you learned last night, Roger is very good at all those things. Besides he has lots of money. So why wouldn't I marry him, given he is happy to let me cavort on my own. Besides all that, he is just fun to be around. He has a great sense of humor; very lewd."

"Oh," I said.

"I assume you enjoyed him last night. Most women do."

I shook my head again, still trying to clear my brain. This conversation was bizarre. I was sitting naked in this woman's kitchen, covered with her husband's dried cum and she was telling me about how much she loved sex with men or women and asking whether I had enjoyed fucking her husband last night.

"Uh... Yes... He was fine." I paused and took another sip of coffee. "No," I continued. "He was fucking great. Fantastic. I've never had sex like that in my life."

"Hubby doesn't measure up, huh?"

Now it was my turn to laugh. "No, Hubby doesn't measure up. Not even close."

"What do you plan to do about that? You should know that Roger thought you were really great--passionate, multi-orgasmic, sexy, great cock sucking, a fabulous fuck... he went on and on this morning. He definitely wants to see you some more."

I felt my pussy twitch at the last statement. More. Could there be more of last night, my mind wondered as vignettes of last night's debauchery appeared and disappeared briefly.

"Honestly Liz, I haven't the faintest idea. I think my life just got a lot more complicated, but right now I need to get a shower and into some decent clothes so I can sub for the grammar school secretary starting at 1:00 today."

"Come with me," she said, her tall heels clicking as she left the room. "You can use our shower. By the way, Roger brought your car over from the club before he left for work. The keys are with your things."

I took Liz up on her offer and minutes later I was standing in a big well finished shower letting hot water pour down on me. I heard the door to the shower open and looked over my shoulder to see Liz, now as naked as I, step into the shower. She reached to the soaps caddy to my side and grabbed a bottle of body lotion. "Let me help you," she said. I stood still, letting the warm water cascade down my front as she lathered my shoulders and back, then moving on to my hips and the backs of my legs. As she worked her way back up my legs her soapy hands massaged the insides of my thighs until she reached their top. The sensation was delicious. I realized I was becoming very aroused as she re-lathered my ass cheeks, paying special attention to the crack between them and the tissue below. Moving back up she switched to a shampoo and lathered my hair. "You have Roger's cum in your hair my dear," she said.

I laughed. "Not surprised," I said. "His cum went everywhere."

Liz smiled and said, "It will do that."

My hair wash completed, Liz held me by the shoulders and turned me around so I was facing her. Now she lathered my chest taking particular care with my breasts. Before touching my sex she washed my legs again taking slowly stroking the inside of my thighs. No longer merely slightly aroused, I was just plan horny. Recovering soap from my thighs on my hands I began to slather it on her small tits. It wasn't long until we were openly playing with each other, me with her soapy little tits and Liz with my sex.

"Put your foot up on that seat," she said. "and spread your legs."

I did as she requested leaning on her shoulder to maintain my balance. I gasped as she slipped two fingers into my cunt. "Oh you're wet aren't you. You're hot and wet, you horny little slut. No wonder Roger thought you were so good last night."

She was right. I was hot and wet and suddenly very close to an orgasm. "How had this happened," I asked myself. When I crawled from bed fifteen minutes ago, I was sore and tired and sex was the farthest thing from my mind. Now I was standing with hot water pouring over me, one leg on a bench seat and the other spread widely to the side, while the wife of my lover of last night finger fucked me. I was hanging on the edge of climax. It arrived moments later. It wasn't massive as those Roger had driven me to the night before, but It was still a nice little climax. Strong enough so that I collapsed against Liz gasping from the release.

As it turned out I didn't make it to work that afternoon. I called in sick and spent the afternoon in bed with Liz learning how to make love to and be loved by another woman. I barely made it home before my husband whose plane home from Seattle was early. I was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. I had skipped the bra. My tits were too sore from almost 24 hours of lovemaking. (Correction. It was just fucking. No love involved.) In any case my husband seemed not to notice my jiggling tits and he was more than satisfied with the frozen and reheated left-over mac and cheese, I served him. After dinner he read the morning newspapers on his iPad and I sat opposite him in a chair, wondering how he would react if he knew what I had been up to in his absence. Eventually I left him in his chair reading his papers. I went to bed early, telling him I was tired, which was true. There had been very little sleep the night before. Once in bed I masturbated myself to yet another climax as my mind replayed my debauchery with Roger and Liz.

The week that followed was an emotional roller-coaster, as I swung from oppressive guilt at my violation of my marriage vows to raging lust driven desire for more of what I had so enjoyed with Roger and Liz. And masturbation. OMG, I never realized how much of that perversion a person could enjoy. That had its guilt also, but nothing that stopped me from indulging with an ever-increasing frequency. There was no way around it--since my seduction by Roger my life had changed dramatically. I now understood why Madison Avenue tries to sell everything on the basis of sex. It's simply that sex, sex like I had experienced with Roger and Liz, is something that everyone who experiences it wants more of and Madison Avenue believes that people will buy more of anything they are led to believe will help them satisfy their need. By the end of the week I had concluded that the sex (repeated orgasmic fucking to put it bluntly) was something I couldn't live without.

The problem was what to do about my husband. There was going to be this guilt thing unless I could somehow involve my husband. I refrained from calling on Roger and Liz, leaving Roger's note and it's invitation to call tucked safely away. Before I resorted to it I needed to try to involve my husband. I didn't really think he would meet Roger and Liz' standards, but I needed to try before I abandoned all the standards I had been raised with and began a sordid affair with Roger and Liz to satisfy my newfound craving.

First I simply asked my husband to join me in bed one evening--well before he was done with his evening review of the day's papers. He mumbled some excuse about being tired and actually went to bed before me. I wound up masturbating in frustration as I lay under a throw blanket on the living room couch.

Two days later I tried again. This time I was wearing a loose-fitting T-shirt and no bra when my husband got home from work. I was horny as hell, my fully engorged nipples making obvious little peaks in the soft T-shirt. He had to notice my nipples and the lustful way my tits were jiggling. Nothing. He sat silently through dinner and then retreated to his evening read of the day's papers, ignoring me as I paraded back and forth. Eventually, just before going off to bed, he asked whether I was behind on the laundry. I was furious. He had noticed and his comment on the laundry was an open rejection of my invitation. Another unsatisfying masturbation session on the couch ensued.

By then it was time for our weekly doubles tennis match with Roger and Liz. "Are we playing tennis tomorrow night," he asked.

"I assume so," I said, an assumption that was promptly confirmed by an e-mail from Liz asking the same question. The exchange with Liz was a bit more complex than a simple invitation to our usual weekly tennis match but it got us to the same place:

Liz: Hi. You've been silent. Did we wear you out?

Me: [smile emoji] Far from it. I've been wanting a replay all week.

Liz: [lewd smile emoji] Good.

Liz: Tennis tomorrow night?

Well that could be awkward, I thought. Then the lust bubbled up in me and I typed:

Me: Sure.

Liz: [lewd smile emoji] Doubles?

Me: Just tennis.

Me: We are still struggling with singles here.

Liz: Perhaps we can help [another lewd smile emoji]

I've always wondered if my next response was the worst or the best thing I ever did:

Me: Perhaps. See you tomorrow night at 8.

That one word--"perhaps" opened the door for Liz to behave badly at our tennis match. Her intentions were good, I guess. All she wanted to do was seduce my husband, which sounds not so good, but then not so bad compared to what Roger had done for me. Unfortunately it turned out that my husband was far less susceptible to seduction than I.

Our tennis started out well enough, although I noticed immediately that Liz was not wearing a bra. Her blouse fit her loosely enough and her breasts were small enough so that the jiggle was not obvious, but I noticed immediately and I felt a little stab of lust to my sex as I remembered how much fun I had playing with Liz' sexy little tits. If my husband noticed, he showed no sign of it. However things went downhill as the evening went on.

At some point in about the third game of the first set Roger and Liz were conferring on strategy before a point. As they quietly talked I saw him slide his hand around behind Liz and then drag his hand and her tennis skirt up as he stroked her ass. I think Simon also noticed. He gave me a questioning look. Then he returned Roger's serve about twenty feet past the end of the court.

A few points later, after we had lost the game, Hubby was serving when Roger walked over to the bench and retied his shoe. As he walked back on to the court he walked past Liz and again let his hand slide under her skirt and pull it up as he passed. This time she was facing away from us and it was obvious to both of us that she had nothing on beneath her short tennis skirt. I could see my husband was outraged. He double faulted away the whole game. But he kept his mouth shut.

As we changed ends of the court, Roger stroked his hand under my skirt pausing to give my ass a delightful squeeze. Fortunately Simon did not see that. The next couple of games passed without incident beyond Roger continuing to fondle his wife's ass between points. Hubby regained enough control to hold his serve for us. Then, at the beginning of the next game Liz escalated things. She bent over to tie a shoelace before beginning her service. Now her near nudity was completely obvious, especially when she reached out to pick up a tennis ball without standing up first. To make the rather awkward move she had to extend one leg to the side so that her naked pussy was fully exposed. And, to add insult to injury she wiggled her butt a bit. The hormones were raging in my body, but my hubby was having an entirely different reaction. Liz has kind of a patty cake serve--big floaters that are always slow but take forever to get to you. Hubby was so upset that he swung and missed on the first one and then hit the next three clear out of the court. I mean like over the fence out of the court. Game to Roger and Liz.

Fortunately I was serving the next game. If it had been Hubby, he might have tried to kill someone. But Liz wasn't ready to quit yet. She stood close to the net when I was serving to Roger her knees bent and her upper body leaning forward, all accepted strategy in doubles tennis. But now she had opened several buttons of her blouse so that when she leaned forward it was easy to see her sexy little tits hanging down from her chest.

That was when Hubby completely lost it. He turned to me and said, "Carolyn I think we need to leave now."

"But we're not even through with the first set," I said with all the innocence I could muster.

Hubby walked to the sideline and began rapidly packing our things into a big tennis bag. Roger and I stood watching, but Liz walked over to him. She bent over and whispered something in his ear. He grabbed the tennis bag and stormed off the court, leaving me behind with Roger and Liz. I apologized and then hurried after him but by the time I reached the parking lot he had taken our car and left, tires screeching as he rounded the corner.

I returned to the court to find Liz and Roger sitting on a bench smiling. Her long legs were stretched out before her and he had one hand on her thigh caressing the inside just below the hem line of her skirt. "I'm sorry," I said. "That didn't go well."

"Not to worry Liz responded. It wasn't your fault. Let's get a drink and talk about it." Again I found myself at their house drinking their wine and smoking some of their dope. Once I was sufficiently relaxed I asked Liz, "What did you say to him when you whispered in his ear."

She smiled. "Oh not much. I just asked him if he would feel better if I gave him a blow job."

We all three exploded in laughter. The marijuana was, as before, not good for my judgement and I wound up spending the night with Liz and Roger. My first threesome. It is amazing how many positions three people can bend themselves into while still maintaining access to each other's sexual organs. I especially liked it when I was on my knees between Liz' legs eating her pussy with my ass in the air and Roger pounding away with his big cock in my cunt. We all three managed to cum at once. Roger gave me a ride home dropping me off at our front door at about 7:30 the next morning. I was still in my tennis clothes, or I should say once again in my tennis clothes. Somehow my bra and panties had gone missing.

Hubby was waiting up for me. "Well did you have a good time with your pervert friends last night."

"Actually I did," I told him.

"You're a slut," he yelled.

That pissed me off. Instead of calmly explain to him that Liz and Roger were providing for needs of mine he was failing to meet, I yelled back, "And you're a eunuch."

With that exchange of meaningful conversation, he screamed, Fuck you bitch," and left for work.

When I returned from my afternoon job at the grammar school there was a note saying he had packed a bag and moved out and that I would be hearing from his lawyer.

Given the rocky way things started, the divorce was surprisingly smooth. We didn't have children to fight over. You can't have a custody dispute about children who have just graduated from college. The lawyers on both sides and the judge strongly suggested we try marriage counseling to attempt a reconciliation. Predictably it was a failure. I did learn some interesting things. We were both very honest about why we wanted out of the marriage. I told Simon and the counselor about my affair with Roger and Liz, which by that night had expanded from a one-night stand to a regular Wednesday evening event (in lieu of our tennis doubles) and explained the importance to me of my newly discovered sex life. Hubby was not impressed. He however came clean about his relationship with a woman he had met through our church. They weren't having an affair, at least not in the erotic sense, but they were, as he put it, providing each other with great emotional and moral support. Support he claimed he had never gotten from me and he acknowledged he hadn't been providing to me. I'm still a bit puzzled about whether what he was doing--essentially abandoning the emotional aspects of our marriage to obtain those from another woman, wasn't just as much a form of adultery as what I was doing. My way was more fun I thought.

The economic settlement was easy enough since we both had substantial separate assets of our own. I got clear title to our large home with Roger paying off the mortgage in lieu of any payment of alimony to me. We each took our own separate assets without claim by the other. We sold off most of the furniture. It had come from Simon's family and I had never liked it. Simon was moving in with the church lady and therefore had no need for it. I kept the dog because the church lady was allergic to dogs.