When I’m Bored With My Husband

***Dear Reader: Some people are not comfortable with their own sexuality and they object to prostitution, and cuckold stories. That is okay - to those people I would suggest not to read the story and refrain from comments. All others please read on and enjoy. This is a work of fiction inspired by real events. The work is copyrighted to the author © December 2020. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to the story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. ***

"We can go to the bar tonight, if you like. I'm sure you can find a good customer to fuck," I suggested.

My wife Bambi tried to appear indifferent to my words, but I could read the tell-tale signs in her eyes and body language: Her eyes shone with ill-disguised interest while her cheeks were flushed with sinful anticipation.

"I will help May tonight, darling. She says I take care of customers good. She needs me make them happy," declared Bambi.

My Thai wife was a lovely piece of fuck candy and a sexy little bar slapper to boot. She had a beautiful well- proportioned figure and a delightful cute face. Like most Thai girls, she was sweet and obedient. If she looked good on your arm, she looked even better with her mouth wrapped around some guy's cock. The fact is, her little brown body was made for fucking, and she knew it and loved it. Bambi was a pure filthy slut who would fuck any foreigner for the sake of it because she loved it. She loved foreign cock and sperm inside her, and pretty much any guy with a stiff cock could get right into her snatch quickly enough. My wife had fucked countless men, swallowing their sperm and happily accepting their cash for her pussy. What more could a cuckold husband wish for?

My wife had acquired a taste for fucking farangs long before had she met me, back in the days when she was working as a freelance slapper in a beer bar. Being a slut had meant that it had been easy for her to become a bitch, and this was a good way to supplement her meager factory income. She had sex for money whenever she needed money or sex.

Bambi enjoyed working as a bargirl, but then what little brown Thai girl wouldn't? She fucked with foreign tourists and retirees, and they gave her money. Bambi could satisfy customers whilst being satisfied herself on a foreign cock. Although Bambi loved it when a guy shoved his cock up her cunt, she loved him more intensely when he gave her money. Without a doubt, this type of intercourse gave a bigger thrill than fucking me.

Initially, I had believed that she had left her past behind, but I had soon discovered early on in our marriage that once a beer bargirl, always a bargirl. She could have as much sex as she wanted, when she wanted, in the bar where it was easy to pick up guys. Certainly, she had no sense of shame, guilt nor regret. Having fucked many customers in the bar already, it was inevitable that my wife had long since lost all sense of morality. For Bambi, it felt absolutely normal to spread her legs for any farang who desired her slutty brown body. After all, she was fully qualified for the job with her dirty slut face and sexy figure.

Unable or unwilling to fight her bargirl nature, Bambi had carried on fucking other men even after we had become engaged. She had also returned to working as a bar hooker for her friend May. Whenever she was bored at home and wanted more cock, she could always find another man to fuck her little tight pussy in the bar. I couldn't feel jealous really as she never remembered the guys, and saw them simply as a source of sex and wealth.

We had adopted an open marriage where Bambi was free to fuck whomever she pleased in front of me. As a cuckold, I liked the fact that my slut wife was a bitch and would be fucking any horny farang she wished. My wife had too much sexual energy for just one guy, so I had to accept the situation. Besides, I was not being deprived of sex by her adventures, quite the contrary. I knew for a fact that most of my older expat friends married to bargirls were unaware that their sluts were selling her pussy behind their backs and running a stable of lovers. These Thai girls needed lots of sex, and they would be getting it one way or another. At least, like this everything was honest and above board.

I must admit, I loved watching my promiscuous slut getting fucked vigorously by some well-endowed bull for money or for pleasure, and then climaxing on their cock. To this day, this remains one of my biggest turn-ons. It always makes me hard, yet I found this both tremendously arousing and humiliating at the same time.

As a result. I supported and encouraged her pleasures, and our sexual relationship was as healthy now as it was the day we had first met, if not more so.

When we went out together, Bambi always made-up and dressed up like a cheap street strumpet. Why not? She had the figure to do it. That evening, we were going to the beer bar for some R&R. As usual, Bambi spent ages getting ready for work. I watched with mixed emotions as she put on her thick whore make-up with practiced ease, flipped her head as she brushed her long sexy hair and applied glossy red hooker lipstick to those lips that would soon be kissing some stranger or sucking someone's hard cock. She had asked me what she should wear, and I had told her to put on something to make a guy horny.

She stared at me coldly and said:

"Of course. I'm a whore. You know that."

There was no excitement in her voice, just a bitter acceptance of her occupation mixed in with pride for what she had become.

Indeed, Bambi was one of May's best working freelance whores. She knew full well how to work a customer for shots of whiskey or spunk, down her throat or down her mouth. Naturally, the bar slut would be shamelessly throwing herself into the arms of any horny stranger she could find; selling herself body and soul to them to feed her craving and addiction for alcohol and cock. The night would surely end with her legless, taken to one of those dirty, cheap, hourly sex-motels, and fucked silly for a few baht on the cum stained bedsheets, the same as any other Thai hooker in the bar there. Most customers want privacy, so I have always stressed to her that she does not need my permission to go with a customer and let him screw her without me being there.

Now as I watched her dress, my throat felt dry. God, was she sexy, I thought. Naturally, Bambi looked like a complete bar slut; a slapper dressed to be fucked silly. She wore a tight Lycra red dress and a pair of ridiculous 7-inch hooker stiletto heels and her bare pussy on show. She was ready to go to the bar. I could smell the sweat and the dried semen on her cheap unwashed clothes, deposited there by the countless orgasms of her customers. She always wore the same clothes over and over again for fucking, without even bothering to wash them. Seeing her

like that made me so hard.

Suddenly, she slipped off her wedding ring, adding unapologetically:

"Tonight, I am single. This means all the other men will know I am available to be their girlfriend and they can fuck me."

I was elated, horny and worried. Good start to the evening...

"I want to be very naughty tonight, Papa," she added with a slutty smile.

She always called me "Papa" when she switched into hooker mode. Any older foreigner could be her sugar daddy. She was telling me that she was going to fuck some guy tonight.

"Yes, darling," I said, "the mamasan is expecting you at the bar.

My wife was proud to be a little bargirl, albeit part-time. Who wouldn't? Drink, sex, money, excitement, and the continuous thrill of different partners without commitment. All she needed to do is open her legs and accept money and sperm. She could satisfy customers whilst being satisfied herself. Some of the girls did it for money, many did it because they enjoyed it and found themselves addicted to sex. Bambi liked both. She needed it, and she wanted it. She loved getting guys shoving their cock up her cunt, and she loved them even more when they paid her to do it.

When we visited the bar, we usually met up with Cat, another one of her married hooker friends. She and her slutty girl-friend liked to go out cock hunting together. The two girls got to parade themselves in the bar like slappers. Bambi especially liked strutting around in slut-wear and in those ridiculously stiletto high heels. I tried to tell her not to worry about her height as she was the perfect height for good a blowjob.

When we reached the bar, there was no tenderness or holding hands. Bambi chose to sit near the bar entrance so that she could be on display for any sex tourist who happened by. Also, she would be strategically placed to attract them into the bar. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that she was there to work. She moved to sit opposite me and when she ordered a drink, it was for her. She was no longer concerned about me. Her metamorphoses into a whore was complete. It had started from the moment she washed and put on a makeup to stepping out of the taxi into the red-light district.

As she drank her whiskey, I felt her gradually growing colder and more distant. She was there but she wasn't. She was detached and trapped in her own reality. From the glazed look, I knew that her feelings for me were slowly receding. Soon they would be forgotten and locked away for the evening. A new persona would emerge, one completely different; that of a hooker, a cold and calculating bargirl driven by her primeval needs such as hunting, drinking, money and mating with multiple male partners. When she became that person, that bargirl, I would no longer exist for her. Bargirl Bambi would gladly sell her body to fill it with alcohol and sex.

My wife sat opposite me, sipping at the drink quietly, changed and absorbed in her own private thoughts. Communication became difficult as the woman I knew and loved receded. She listened distractedly as I spoke and she responded politely but briefly. By her second whiskey, she was no longer paying attention to me really. Her eyes wandered and stared right through me as sex tourists strolling past and she absorbed the dynamics of the customers and girls inside the bar.

This was a slow process, but by the time May, her mamasan, showed up she was not my wife anymore. When Bambi saw the bar owner, her eyes suddenly seemed to light up. She smiled attractively at the other girl and her body language radiated friendly excitement.

In the bar, May was the Madam who owned her, not me. Apart from being her boss there, someone to be listened to attentively and obeyed, Maya was also a friend, a mentor and a confidant. She was someone Bambi looked up to and tried to emulate. This was all fine by me. After all, the mamasan was one of those experienced and successful whores who not only knew how to run a bar and a stable of girls, but knew exactly how to seduce and work several boyfriends at once. As Bambi's madam, May had overseen her blossom into a profitable bar hooker. The mamasan appreciated my wife. Bambi was a sexy slut and an asset for her bar. When plied with whiskey, Bambi really is the complete bar slut able to entertain customers and keep them happy and spending better than most of the other hookers. May wanted Bambi to fulfil her potential as a successful whore, earning money for herself and the bar with her body, so our interests aligned. The bar was a place where hookers entertained, seduced and fucked men. This was the perfect environment for a Thai girl to learn how to please a man and become a whore. May was a key corrupting influence on Bambi. She was the one who encouraged and guided Bambi down this road of sin. In fact, the mamasan had always been my ally in this journey.

At last Bambi was happy. By her third whiskey, Bambi was laughing, fooling around and ready to entertain, flirt and fuck customers. I doubted whether she would be going more than an hour without a cock up her snatch being pumped full of spunk in her mouth and pussy. I watched her chatting and laughing salaciously with the mamasan, her eyes wide with admiration.

After a while, she deigned to tell me that May had been explaining to her how she had got 20,000 Baht out of her new boyfriend.

Bambi leaned towards me and declared, her eyes shining with mischief and envy:

"Mama says that she has three boyfriends who fuck her and send her money. She is saying I can do the same, darling."

I saw that Bambi was serious. May was quite insistent that my wife needed to start cultivating her own set of customers from the bar. This is what bar whores do. She explained that having three farang lovers would be good for her, and not too demanding to manage. All the other bar girls had several lovers sending them money. For example, Cat still had customers who send her money from when she worked in the bar. It was all perfectly normal and harmless.

Turning to me, the mamasan said:

"You have to understand this and accept it."

She meant that Bambi would be having extra marital affairs, cheating on me with other men she met in the bar, and that I needed to let her do this. May explained that Bambi could make her own money while having fun at the same time. Her stable of lovers would spoil her with their affections, money and gifts; all this just for giving them attention, affection as well as her pussy of course. They would pay her for drinks, fuck her pussy, and even ask her to accompany them on holiday. I swallowed hard. Going against my better instincts, I told my wife that she needed to follow the advice of her mamasan. May seemed happy with this. Her madam was encouraging her to sell her pussy there and pick up some customers for sex in front of me. If it had been up to May, the mamasan, she would have my Bambi working there every night selling drinks and turning tricks

May tried to reassure me:

"Don't worry, many customers like her. She will be very popular. Soon she will be earning good money."

May went on to tell me that she could not work tonight because one of her benefactors was there, so she hoped Bambi could help out more tonight. After her fourth whiskey my spouse had already lost all sense of morality by then. She was visibly more relaxed and extroverted, laughing and speaking louder in a vulgar way now. She was unable to stop drinking even though she knew I disapproved. She was addicted to drink and cock and there is nothing I could say or do to stop her drinking increasingly until she became sick and could not stand on her own two feet. When she was very drunk, she always became very horny and really needed cock in her pussy.

The girls continued to chat excitedly about whoring and my wife stroked May's leg affectionately, hanging onto her every word. May was big and overweight, spoiled by a life of partying and getting drunk every night, but Bambi would have eaten her out in a heartbeat if her Madam had asked her to.

Some guys walked by the bar, and the girls all suddenly stood up as one, waving to them, calling out for them to come into the bar and buy them a drink. One of the bargirls showed them in to the bar. By now it was getting quite crowded and noisy, but May had turned to Bambi and gesturing at the group, and said:

"You should go there and help take care of them. You can get one to fuck you."

Bambi laughed, blushed and shook her head in false innocence, so May had looked over to me for my support.

"Yes, good idea. You can get yourself a guy," I said.

May got up and disappeared into the bar to make sure the new group was being taken care of. I turned to my wife to say something, but I was surprised to see that she had already left our table.

I thought that she had gone to the toilet, but instead I saw her head for the counter and put her arm around the first guy she encountered! Bambi had not even bothered to let me know that she was leaving the table, never mind that she had decided to go to chat up and seduce the first guy she met. I was totally forgotten as she denied me the pleasure of her company when whoring.

I felt surprised and disappointed, yet at the same time it was incredibly horny to see her acting like a complete slapper, without the slightest consideration of my feelings. After a brief moment with the guy, I saw her approach a second older tourist sitting at the bar counter. From this distance, I could only make out that he seemed in his fifties. He had gray hair and was wearing a blue shirt. I saw my wife leaning into him and whispering something in his ear. He nodded and they began to chat. After a few moments, I saw the bartender hand her another whiskey. She had just got her first lady drink from the guy. When Bambi started drinking, she could never get enough. It was like sex. Her first priority had been to get someone to buy her a drink. I realized that this meant that she would be spending some time taking care of the guy and I was not mistaken.

In fact, she remained a good hour with him, leaving me alone at my table, totally forgetting that I existed. She did not care about me or my feelings. Earlier, she had reminded me that in the bar she was not my wife, she was a whore. This may seem cold and uncaring, but it was the simple truth. May and the beer bar had turned her into a hooker and she was no different from any of the other bar whores that worked entertaining customers and fucking them short-time.

I had told May:

"It is so good when she works in the bar for you. I like see her so happy drinking, helping take care of customers and boom-boom. I know not all guys can short-time with me watching here. I want you to know that Bambi she must follow you. She can short time whoever she wants to, even go alone with a guy. I want to see her happy."

I watched as Bambi flirted with her customer. He had his hands all over her, feeling her up, squeezing her buttocks, pulling him against her, playing with her breasts and kissing her like a girlfriend. I felt quite lonely and horny. I kept glancing at them, fascinated. My cock was so stiff in my pants. I snapped pictures of her quietly, avoiding being detected. At one point, one of the other bar girls joined them for a moment, trying to muscle in on my wife's action, but Bambi clung onto her customer protectively. The girls chatted and at one point the other bar girl pulled up the hem of Bambi's red micro-dress to shame her and reveal her pussy to the bar. The other girl laughed, pointing to my wife's naked crotch. Embarrassed, Bambi quickly covered herself up.

Her attempt to distract and seize the customer backfired, however. After he had seen Bambi's shaved snatch, he pulled her closer and fondled her cunt as he kissed her. Disappointed, Bambi's contender drifted away. I saw my wife was leaning into her man. He had his hand up her skirt, and now he was groping and finger fucking her naked pussy beneath. She did not seem to care. Instead, she ground her cunt against his fingers, not worried about anyone seeing her behaving like a filthy slapper. She liked to fuck older foreigners, and he was her type.

She was smiling at him as he ran her hand over the smooth skin of her deep tanned thighs. Her eyes shone with mischief and lust. I watched as my sexy ho ground her cunt against the guy's fingers. She didn't seem to mind that everyone could see her behaving like a slut in the bar. His white hand had disappeared between her legs as he was rubbed at her small pussy through the thin material. She squeezed his fingers between her thighs as he felt her up. I noticed her hand rubbing at his crotch where his cock must have been... I could not hear what they were saying, but at one point she reached out and grabbed his cock! This was a big turn on.

As it dragged on and I sat there alone, I became a little irritated at being ignored. I kept telling myself that she was working, but seeing her enjoying herself so much like that made me feel humiliated.