My Artist Husband

The thrill of having extramarital sex with my husband watching, and all in the name of art, was also turning me on something fierce. I was absolved of all the guilt I would otherwise have had. Almost.

Steve was not the sexually creative drama queen I wanted the men of my fantasy life to be, however. He was standard vanilla. That's okay, I like vanilla. It's my second favorite ice cream flavor (my favorite is French vanilla if you must know), and I enjoy standard vanilla sex as long as the man's cock is hard and inside me. I will quickly admit however that French vanilla sex is better than standard vanilla. Oh, those French!

Steve wanted a blowjob. Craig had predicted this and he had wanted me to give him one, preferably while I was naked. Well, I was naked and there was Steve's cock, hard as a rock and waiting for me. I looked forward to learning the taste of his cum!

I took Steve's cock in my mouth and made love to its purple head. I stroked it with my right hand as I sucked and caressed his cock. He had a longer than average cock but I was undaunted. I had enjoyed bigger and longer ones during my memorable college years. I wanted to put on a good show for Craig's camera.

I love the control I have over men when I blow them. Usually I'm the passive one with the man setting the agenda as he fucks me this way or that. When I'm blowing them however, I'm in charge and the tables are turned. It's a rush. I like the submissive role better but I nevertheless treasure the control over the man I have when I blow him. It's the only time I can ever have control over a man's passions.

I sucked on Steve's dick and teased it with my mouth. When I had him breathing hard and gasping and running his hands through my hair and playing with my nipples I decided to do it. Without warning I swallowed the entire thing, taking his long schlong right down my tiny throat. I'm a small woman and Steve is a big man with a long cock, but human anatomy being what it is, his cock went all the way down my throat until his pubic hair was tickling my nose.

As I swallowed his entire length Steve got so exited he inadvertently squeezed my nipples hard. Very hard. I almost climaxed just then. Steve (and the Maltese cross) heard my groan of extraordinary arousal.

As I swallowed him completely for the third time I reached around him and stuck a finger at his asshole and slightly inside it. That did it! He surrendered his spunk to my throat and to my mouth. Remembering Craig's instructions, I withdrew from his cock and I swished his spunk around in my mouth. I opened my mouth wide ostensibly to show off Steve's cum to Steve himself. In reality I was displaying my mouth full of cum to Craig's camera. Craig must be loving this I thought as I smiled with my mouth open. I knew for a fact Steve was loving it!

OMG Steve tasted of Green Tea! He was only the second man ever to taste of Green Tea. This brought back fond and very sexy memories. I could not wait to tell Jenny! I knew she's be so jealous.

Steve and I had both cum and doubtless Craig had lots of pictures he could use, so I began to get dressed, still on a high due to the Green Tea taste of Steve's cum. Steve reached over to me, stopping me. "Don't leave now, Ashley. I really need to make love to you," he said.

"You mean you want to fuck me, right?" I said. I wanted him to call a spade a spade. No love was involved.

"That's putting it crudely."

I just looked at him.

"Okay, yes, I want to fuck you," Steve admitted.

"You want me to be a conquest, don't you? Another notch in your belt of sluts you have laid?"

Steve just looked at me. Had no woman ever spoken to him like that before?

I sat on the loveseat and spread my legs wide. "Like what you see?" I asked.

"I just need a little time to become hard again," he said. "You drained me pretty well just now."

I giggled. I was pleased with myself.

"Want to watch some porn?" My tone of voice had switched from annoyed and contemptuous to seductive. Steve had no idea what to make of me. I liked it like that. "The Courtyard Marriott must have some porn we can buy on the TV?" I asked. I used the remote and found a movie about a teenage slut who needed some extra money.

As the movie progressed I said, "The girl in the movie gets paid for putting out. With you, I'm paying for the room, the drinks, even the pay TV movie. Anything wrong with this picture?"

"I'll pay for everything when we check out," Steve said.

"I should hope so," I said. "Good. Still, that little teenage vixen is getting a hundred dollars every time she fucks. Still want to fuck me, Steve? I'm worth more than her, don't you think?" I bounced my boobs and played with my nipples.

"You want me to pay you in order to fuck you? To make you a whore?" Steve asked. His tone revealed his surprise. His cock was beginning to twitch as he said the words. I knew that at this point I had teased him enough that he would do anything to be able to fuck the living daylights out of me.

"It's a long-standing fantasy of mine to fuck for money. I've fucked for meals and jewelry in some sense in the past but that was romance. It's not the same," I said. I wasn't lying, either. Fucking for money was indeed an old fantasy of mine. An oldie but a goodie. I had never, ever expected it to come true however!

"I'll give you $200 for a fuck. Make it a good one, too, Ashley," Steve said. I noticed the idea of paying me for the sex had made him harder than ever before. I for one was soaking wet. Craig and I had discussed this, too. I made sure he paid me the money in advance and in full view of the glass door and the hidden camera behind it.

I hope Craig got a good picture of Steve handing me the stack of ten twenties while we were both naked. I lewdly rubbed them over my tits. I looked closely at Andrew Jackson's picture. The man was handsome, you know? I wondered if he would have approved of this use of his image? We could ask the justices of the Supreme Court. Justice Thomas might have something interesting to say about it?

As soon as I had taken the stack of twenties Steve picked me up and pushed me hard against the wall. He held me there as he cruelly crushed my boobs. Then his hands circled my waist and he picked me up, rubbing my back against the wall of the hotel room. It had some sort of corrugated wallpaper that put welts into my back, Steve was manhandling me so fiercely.

I almost came right then. The intensity and fury of Steve's unexpected attack was breathtaking. He picked me up higher and then dropped me right down onto his hard, angry cock. I was panting with arousal at this point and when his cock entered me it was electrifying. We fucked standing up like that with my back constantly rubbing on the wall of the room as he lifted me up and dropped me down repeatedly. My nipples were rubbing his chest. My ups and downs were frantic. I felt as if my nipples were going to be rubbed right off my breasts. I was moaning up a storm. It was so intense!

Suddenly Steve pulled out and put me down forcefully and hard. He was breathing heavily. I was splattered on the floor. My legs were twisted underneath me. I was a wreck.

I managed to raise myself onto my hands and knees to position myself right in front of the glass doors with my profile facing the doors. I kept a slight angle so that Craig could capture my facial expressions during the rest of the fuck, should he be so inclined.

During the initial brutal phase of the fuck my head would repeatedly pop over Steve's shoulder when he lifted me. My head must have seemed so small in comparison to Steve's huge expanse of naked back and muscular shoulders. I hope Craig captured my face in those moments. I would love to see the expression on my face. I can't imagine what it might have been!

I wiggled my bare ass. "Come to Mama," I said, as my boobs dangled below me with the gorgeous gold plated Maltese cross dangling right between them. I could not wait to have Steve's hard cock inside me again. Nature hates a vacuum and I needed his large cock to fill me up just then. I needed it bad. My guilt was assuaged since my husband approved and was watching, but I still felt dirty fucking outside the marriage.

I decided to let the dirty feeling work for me. Not only was I cheating, I was doing it for money. Since the cheating was desired by all the men involved (Craig and Steve) I was the only one freaked out by it. Fucking for money was a total taboo.

This was a case of two wrongs making arousal.

My outrageous behavior turned me on something fierce. Given my sexual history, nothing Steve could do to me could phase me, even paying me $200 for a fuck. Instead I just embraced the kink and fucked my lucky guy Steve for all I was worth, and let me tell you I was worth a hell of a lot more than $200! I pushed back up to his thrusts, and when he picked me up and threw me down on my back and power fucked me missionary position I wrapped my legs around him, clawed his back, and I moaned and gasped.

When I came, I screamed. Steve got his money's worth and Craig got pictures from every imaginable angle. What I got out of it was some nice, raw, extramarital sex. I had loved every second of it.

About six weeks later all was ready. Craig had his show ready for the gallery. I had been repeatedly declining Steve's entreaties for more illicit hook-ups. Sooner or later he would get the message.

I wore a mask to the opening of Craig's show. In the mask, I was the spitting image of course to my own image, the star in what had become known as his "Harlot Series." The critics loved the show and it was written up in the New York Times. Half of the works were sold the first day and by the end of the first week of the gallery showing, the entire lot was sold. It was a remarkable success. Sex sells.

My sister came to the show. She had predicted Craig would find a way to exploit my submissive nature, and he sure had. She loved the show. My brother was less enthusiastic. I saw him at one point studying my boobs in one of the artworks, and later he was looking at my pussy in another one. He was looking a bit too intently for my taste. I had not thought about the possible effect of this show on my brother. I made sure my father did not come to the show!

I was known as "Ashley: The Woman Behind the Harlot Show" and I was interviewed by the New York Post. The Post ran a picture of me right next to one of the more outrageous works from the show. The Post loved the prurient interest factor, especially because it was high art, not porn, right? The subtitle was "Artist's Muse." I guess I was an artist's muse, now, wasn't I? Now everyone reading The NY Post would see my boobs. Great.

I saw my sister talking with Craig. I was pretty sure that my sister was jealous. I later learned that Sis was thinking ahead. What would Craig do for his next show? How would he get it to be even more outrageous? He might need an extra sexpot? My sister and I looked a lot alike. She wanted in.

I was a little nervous. What indeed was Craig planning for the next show to come? Was I to fuck again? Was my sister to fuck, too? How much would Steve pay to fuck two sisters at the same time? I giggled softly. Nobody heard me giggling. Or so I thought.

Then it dawned on me. Jenny. We would involve Jenny. If she were willing, of course. How silly of me! Of course Jenny would be willing. How I even think she might not be?

Time would tell what was going on in my kinky artist husband's mind. It's a good thing I'm a patient girl. I could wait.