When his finger bumped my clit, my legs closed around his hand involuntarily and I grabbed his dick. He stripped off his clothes and climbed on top of me. He started fucking me and I fucked him back as hard as I could. I felt terrible about what I was doing but I needed it so badly.

It only took five minutes before he stiffened and grunted. He pulled out and shot three big blasts of sperm on my stomach. He got up without saying a word and another guy started rubbing my legs as Steve snored right next to me. He pointed at himself and then at my pussy and I nodded my head quickly. I was even closer to an orgasm and even more frustrated.

This guy was bigger and filled me more than I'd ever been filled in my life. That was when I learned that size might be more filling, but it didn't mean it would get me off.

As the guy pumped and wheezed on top of me with another guy waiting and rubbing his dick as he watched, I noticed a dick in my face. Steve was awake. He didn't seem angry. He just wanted a blow job, so I gave him one. Over the next hour or so, five more guys fucked me.

When they were done, I got up, put my clothes back on and walked home. Steve didn't say a word to me. He also didn't call me for a couple of days. I thought that he was really angry at me and I felt awful. I felt like the whole thing had been my fault.

I didn't blame Steve at all. No decent guy wants to have a girlfriend who fucks an entire fraternity, one guy after another.

Since he hadn't called to break up with me, I was sure that I still had a chance. I decided to make a special dinner for him and apologize for my behavior. I'd swear to him that it would never happen again.

I bought all of the ingredients for the meal I planned and went over to his house. One of the guys who'd fucked me let me in. I told him that I needed to use their kitchen.

"Whoa, dinner AND pussy. That's a great combo," he said. "I can't wait."

"It's only going to be dinner," I said. He looked at me with an expression on his face that told me he didn't believe me.

Guys came and left as I cooked. One guy came in and grabbed my breast as I cooked. I moved his hand and he smirked at me. Another guy tried to stick his hand in my pants. I grabbed a knife and let him know the error of his ways. He just laughed.

Then I heard it. I heard Steve talking to a couple of the guys.

"Dude, she's back. Do you think we can do it again?"

"I don't see why not," said Steve. "Seriously, why do you think I started going out with her anyway? I mean duh. She's not nearly as pretty as any of the other girls I date. Shit, we don't even date. I took her to the movies a couple of times, but since then I just go over to her house and fuck her. Apparently, I don't even have to do that anymore. She's bringing the pussy to me now. She's better than pizza. I don't even have to pick up the phone to have her delivered."

"Maybe after a while, she'll pay me. Wouldn't it be funny to have her come over here and suck my dick and then pay me? And I'd use the money she gave me to take Wendy out."

"The little bitch is probably upstairs in my room with her pussy wet and her legs spread," he laughed. They all laughed with him until I stepped out of the kitchen in tears.

"No, the little bitch is leaving," I said with as much dignity as I could muster.

"Wait Sandy," he said. "Since we're all here, why don't we all have some fun?"

"Steve, I don't want to be that kind of girl. I had sex with you because I thought we had something. I don't want to become the kind of girl who screws the football team or does gang bangs. I don't want to become that kind of girl."

"Too late," he smirked. "You already are. You might as well enjoy it."

I started crying again and ran out of the house. But Steve was right. The damage had already been done. The story had already gotten all over the school and had been embellished and exaggerated. All kinds of guys started asking me out and they all expected to fuck me. I just stopped dating. After a few months, I was so sick of the inside of my dorm that I was going crazy. Both of my roommates had moved out, leaving me alone in our room.

I started dating just so I didn't have to be alone. I picked a guy that I thought was really nice. It didn't help. He brought me home after we ate and his hand was under my skirt as soon as we got back in the car.

I hadn't had sex in months and I was horny as hell. So I told him he could have me but I begged him not to tell anyone. We went back to his dorm and he fucked me. He pounded me like I was a low class prostitute. He bit me and twisted my tits. I knew I'd made a mistake. His roommate showed up when he was done.

"No," I said.

"Fine he told me. I'll just show everyone the pictures I took of you licking Mike's dick like it was a lollipop."

In the end, I had sex with four guys and they told everyone anyway.

The next year, my senior year, I moved back home and finished my degree at the local college.

Everything that had happened had been a terrible blow to my confidence. At the same time, I began to wonder about things. I didn't date or even speak to guys, but I found myself thinking about what had happened. Even when I masturbated, I fantasized about being taken over and over by large numbers of men.

After graduation, I took a job as a secretary for an older guy who ran a print shop. I wasn't a good secretary but I made up for it by giving him what he wanted. A couple of times he'd paid me extra to go out with an important client of his. I didn't see any harm in it. I wasn't dating anyone and had no intention of doing so. There was also the fact that I craved sex, so I'd probably have been finding someone to fuck anyway.

Life has a funny way of slowly moving us in directions we never intended to go in. In less than two years, I'd morphed from a fairly inexperienced girl to a sex crazed cum slut. I no longer liked the woman I looked at in the mirror.

But just when I thought things were the worst they were ever going to be, my boss took me out with him to meet a client again.

That was when I met Benjamin Phillips. My boss would usually take me out to dinner with a customer. At some point, he'd get an emergency call and leave me with the client, who'd have agreed to drive me home.

We'd finish dinner and I'd get the client to take me back to his hotel or some other place, where we'd get what we both wanted.

From the first moment that I laid eyes on Ben, I wanted him. And I knew that something was different. In most cases when I saw a guy, I was neutral. With Ben, I was out of control. I wanted to know everything there was to know about him. At the same time, I had to go to the ladies room and take my panties off because they were soaked.

I dominated the conversation and my boss kicked me under the table trying to get me to shut up so he could talk business.

When the emergency call came, I could hardly wait. I had all kinds of scenarios in my head about being on a bed with Ben fucking the shit out of me. It didn't happen.

When my boss asked him to drive me home, he told him that he had a meeting with another printer scheduled but that he'd pay for a cab for me and wait with me until it arrived.

The next day I was distraught. Not only did we not get the job, I didn't get Ben.

In fact, I didn't see Ben again for almost a year. I was in the same restaurant with another client and my boss had left. The client was an asshole but I was going to fuck him anyway. In fact, I was going to fuck him and the two guys he'd brought with him. The guy was already hinting about me going to his motel with him. I just needed to get him to bring his friends around.

Then I noticed Ben walk into the restaurant. He was with a couple of other men and a really beautiful woman. They ended up sitting not too far away from my table. As the client droned on and on and started to ramp up his innuendos, my focus was on Ben.

"Hey, pay attention girlie," shouted the client.

I was depressed. I wondered who the woman was and what she was to Ben.

"I think I'm going to go home," I said.

"Not if you want my account," he said. "Your boss told me that..."

"Sandra, isn't it?" he said. "I just thought I'd drop over and say hello. Is there a problem?" The twinkle in those brown eyes wiped out everything going on around us.

"It's Ben Phillips," he said. "I own Phillips Personal logistics remember?"

He was crazy. There was no way I could ever forget him.

"Is that your wife?" I asked.

"She's a client," he smiled, looking at me strangely.

"Could you possibly take me home or are you double booking meetings again?"

"When your business is done, why don't you join us," he said.

"I'm done. I'll join you now," I said waving goodbye to the asshole sitting across from me. I followed him back to his table while the assholes I'd left bored holes in my back with their angry stares. Watching Ben work was amazing. He operated totally differently from the way my boss did. He honestly talked about his business and the services they could offer. He tried to find a way that they could work together that would benefit both him and his clients.

The hard thing was the headache I got. I figured that since I had two eyes, I'd use one to watch the bitch sitting at the table with us. I couldn't take the other one off of Ben. The woman was using the business meeting as a screen. Her real interest was in Ben. She was doing all of the bullshit that high school and college girls do. She laughed at everything he said, whether or not it was funny. And she took every opportunity to touch him.

She also went out of her way to either build herself up or compliment him. She licked her lips and flipped her hair at least twenty times while we were there. She never realized how close to death she was. I was so close to clawing her eyes out that I could already imagine her obituary in the paper the next day.

In the end though, Ben told her that he didn't really see any way that he could help their company. Their needs and the services his company offered didn't overlap in any significant areas.

As we watched her and her colleague walk away, I got more depressed. There was simply no way I could compete with a woman like that. It had been enough of a blow to my ego finding out back in college that I wasn't pretty enough for some men. But comparing myself to another woman and losing in front of a guy we both wanted was simply humiliating.

He dropped me off without making a move and I was sure that I had no shot. I watched him drive away leaving me with my tongue hanging out and my panties dripping. I was so sure that I'd never see him again that I cried.

I also lost my job. The clients were so upset about not getting what my asshole boss had assured them was guaranteed pussy, that they hadn't given us their business. The next day, a huge flower arrangement showed up at my apartment followed by Ben himself. We started dating after that and it took weeks to get him between my legs where I wanted him.

And it changed my life. Ben didn't fuck me, he made love to me. I had so many orgasms that I almost blacked out. And he didn't just do me and run back to his life. He stayed the whole night and I fell asleep wrapped in his arms. I woke up the next morning to find him staring at me. He told me how beautiful I was. No one had told me that except for my dad. Over the next few months we grew so close that I knew that I could no longer function without him. Fortunately, I didn't have to because he loved me too and we got married.

How could that fool Greg ever hope to compete with that? I shivered as I realized that my trip down memory lane had used up all of the hot water and the shower was freezing. I dried off, dressed and got dinner started. Two hours later my life took a turn for the worst. Ben came home and he looked like a balloon with most of the air let out of it

I wondered what could have happened since the morning that was so bad. Ben barely said a word to me. For the first time I could remember, he didn't kiss me when he came in. When I pressed him about it he tried to act like everything was fine but I know Ben. Then I found out my answer. Immediately after he ate, he headed out to the garage. I peeped in on him and saw him with his car jacked up and only his feet sticking out from under it. I should have known that it would take a problem with his precious Mustang to have him acting that way.

* * * * * *


I couldn't hide in the garage forever, but I gave it a damned good try. There was nothing wrong with my Mustang...well okay there was some dust on it. I took care of that inside the garage with my Turtle Wax Ice quick detailer and a microfiber cloth.

What I really needed was time away from Sandy to get my thoughts in order. I was doing fine under the circumstances. I mean when you consider the morning I'd had, the fact that I hadn't committed multiple murders speaks well of my character.

The fact of the matter is that I was still in shock. I'd just undergone one of those life altering traumatic experiences that you read about it the newspapers and magazines so much. And God Dammit, it wasn't fun. If you'd asked me about traumatic experiences yesterday, I'd have told you that people who had them were full of shit. In the old days people had tough times and got bad news all the time and they didn't die from it. They just shook it off or walked it off, or they rubbed some dirt on it and moved on. But the point of the matter is that they didn't let those things ruin their lives. I'd have told you that people today were simply softer than our ancestors and they just couldn't handle tough times.

As of today, call me soft too, because I had a traumatic experience and rubbing some fucking dirt on it wasn't going to do shit. I hurt so badly that I wanted to go running home to my mother, but she'd passed a few years ago. I wanted to go and curl up in the fetal position in my bed but that would only put me in the clutches of the person who'd hurt me...or one of them any way.

So I did the next best thing. I hung out for a while with the only other person, place or thing that I derived comfort and solace from; my Mustang GT. I knew that my car loved me, even if the woman who'd sworn to didn't.

As I hid outside in the garage for the next few hours, I did everything I could to avoid going into the house. Once my car was shiny clean, well shinier and cleanier since I never actually let it get dirty. And yes, I meant cleanier, even though I just made that word up. Shit, I even washed my car while it was stored for the winter in my heated garage under a premium car cover.

Anyway, after I washed the car, I jacked it up and lay down on my padded creeper under the car, just in case Sandy came out to the garage looking for me. There were several times when she walked into the garage and called out to me and even asked when I'd be done.

I simply picked up a wrench and tapped the frame of the car, as if I was actually doing something and told her it wouldn't be much longer. Once, she even asked if I needed her to help me. I wished with all of my heart that she could help me. But I don't think that anyone could erase what had happened this morning from my mind.

It was like something out of a bad porno movie. I came back home about thirty minutes after I left. Somehow, I'd forgotten my phone and had made it almost to work before I remembered it. Since most of my contacts were stored on the phone, including my newest potential clients that I hadn't transferred to the file on my work computer yet, I had to have the phone. I knew that it was mostly just laziness, but I needed those numbers so I headed home.

Just for shits and giggles I decided to go in the side door and scare the hell out of Sandy, but it was me who got the surprise. As I passed the basement windows, I saw movement. I looked in and saw Sandy naked in our basement with four men, two of whom were friends of mine. Well, former friends anyway. I guess I should have stormed in and gotten my hunting rifle and shot all of them. But at the time, I was just shocked into inactivity. Let's face it, I'm not Rambo and I'm not the terminator either.

Actually, Rambo had a heart attack a while ago so he really isn't Rambo anymore either. And the Terminator is probably more likely to be out fucking some maid or someone else's wife than he is watching his own marriage go down the tubes.

What I really did was to go back to work. I don't know why, I guess maybe there's comfort in the familiar. Maybe I needed a place where I could think. It took me hours of thinking to decide what I wanted to do.

I love Sandy. From the bottom of my heart, shit, she was my heart. More than that, she was all of those things that they talk about in those cheesy women's romance novels to me. There is nothing I wouldn't have done for her. Sure, Sandy isn't a raving beauty, but that isn't why I fell for her. Sandy is kind of an onion. She has so many layers that there's always something new to learn about her. But after nine years of marriage, this is the first layer that I haven't liked.

Sandy is on the short side and I guess her face is average. But she has truly beautiful eyes and a smile that makes her look prettier than she actually is. Her brown hair is short and curly and makes her look younger than her thirty five years would suggest.

Her boobs are small but nice and her ass is a little bit bigger than it should be to be perfectly proportionate. I should also admit that I like her ass. Not a day goes by that I'm not grabbing it or slapping it. I think the thing that Sandy hates most about her body is her legs. Over the years they've gotten bigger and she has a bit of cellulite on her thighs. I could care less. Sandy's ass and those thick legs in a tight skirt, or a sheath dress could make a priest give up altar boys. There have been too many times that we've gone out to a dinner or a movie and I dragged her home and bent her over the hood of my car because I couldn't wait until we got inside the house.

Another thing is that Sandy is hands down the best sex I've ever had in my life. Her pussy isn't the tightest one I've ever been inside of, but it's the way she moves her hips and the way she gives me everything she has. There has never been anything that I wanted to try that Sandy was hesitant about or said, "No," to.

I guess I know why now. The one thing that was apparent as I watched Sandy and her lovers was that she was clearly in charge and willing. As I watched her straddle Greg and move her ass up and down caressing his dick the way I loved to have her do to me, I could see that she wasn't being forced to do any of it. If anything, it was the men who were having trouble keeping up with her. So much for my self esteem; and so much for any illusion that I'd ever been anywhere near close to being enough for her. I threw my breakfast up all over the grass on the side of the house.

When I finally went into the house, it was well after midnight. I took the longest possible shower I could and then quietly walked down the hall. I'd planned on sleeping in the guest room and telling her that I hadn't wanted to wake her. The repairs had taken longer than I'd thought, but had to be done because I couldn't have safely driven the car without doing it. It would sound good or at least possible. And Sandy knew that I loved my car, so she might buy it.

Of course, all of that went up in flames when Sandy opened the bedroom door and pulled me inside.

She was naked and pulled back the sheets so we could get into our bed. One of the things that you have to understand about Sandy and me is that we had a very vigorous sex life. That says more about her than it does about me. Most guys would have sex every night if they could. It's usually the wives that are the limiting factors. Sandy had no limits, so over the nine years that we'd been married, we'd had sex far more times than we hadn't. It was unusual for us to go to sleep without doing it at least once unless one of us was sick or out of commission.

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byStangStar06© 87 comments/ 189171 views/ 85 favorites

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