Things Change

"Now the ball is in your court, honey. What do you have in mind to do? Are you going to scream rape and try to charge sexual harassment? Before you even think of doing that, look over there."

He pointed over to a camera on a tripod facing me. He said, "It caught every word coming from you as you begged all of us to keep fucking you and how demanding you got, wanting to suck another and another cock. You may have a hard time crying rape."

I looked at him and thought, "Just like the stories, they get the girl, they fuck the girl, they record the girl and they blackmail the girl." I smiled to myself inside and decided to play it the way he expected me to. I said to him, "Oh, please, please, Mr. Case, don't show that to anyone. I won't cry rape, I'll do anything, anything you want, just don't show that to my husband. I'll work hard, I'll make you happy, but please don't show that to anyone."

I saw a huge smile come across my boss's face like he had me. I dropped my head and put my face in my hands. I faked as if I was crying and I kept begging him, and telling him I would do anything he wanted any time and any place. He walked over to me, patted my head and said, "Go get cleaned up, dear. It is quitting time, and we'll talk more about this tomorrow. Oh, I hope you are on the pill because you are going to be fucking your brains out from now on here at work. Don't you worry your pretty little head about us telling your hubby. This is just between you and us boys here at the office. You are going to be our own little den mother taking care of us boys.

"From now on, I want you to come to work and the only assignment you have is to keep reading your stories and looking at your pretty pictures. The boys will keep doing your work and you will be giving them their rewards for doing it, won't you, dear? Now you do know what I mean by that, don't you, dear?"

I looked up at him with my puppy dog eyes and sniffled as I said, "Do you mean I can just read and be myself, masturbating, and you and the boys are going to use me, fucking me and making me suck your cocks? That if I do anything you and they want you will not show my husband that video of me doing a gangbang and loving it and loving every inch you boys gave me? God, Mr. Case, yes, I understand and like I said, I'll do anything, anything at all, just don't show my husband that tape."

My boss took my hand and I stood up. My legs were still a bit shaky but I managed to walk to the restroom. Looking at myself in the mirror, I was a mess. I had sperm in my hair and the sperm was flowing out of my cunt like it had no end. Knowing that brought yet another fantasy of mine to mind. I had discovered that Peter liked reading about men who ate their wife's cream pies. What got me so perplexed was Peter would never ever go down on me. He wanted his dick sucked but eating my pussy was, in his words, "sick."

I stood there looking at myself, part of me was excited that I had actually just did one of my many fantasies. The other part of me was yelling and screaming at myself for betraying my husband. He did not deserve a wife that would not only allow herself to get put in a situation like I had, but to enjoy it as much as I had. Now that is fucking sick.

I told myself that it did not matter if my Peter did not know how to control himself when we make love. Just because he could not make me climax was no reason for me to desire other men who could and did to make me climax by fucking me.

Just because Peter's interest was reading about wives who get off fucking other men did not mean that he wanted me to be that way. Just because he would get out of our bed after making love and then go to the office and read his stories and jerk his cock off did not mean I had the right to be used like I was.

He would fuck me, go sit in front of the computer read about eating women who had fucked lots of men and then he would jerk off while all the time telling me that I was sick for wanting him to eat my pussy. While I know that is so wrong it doesn't give me the right to want to be bad.

I lifted the front of my dress and I looked at myself in the mirror. My bottom was an absolute mess -- I had wet and dried sperm all over my pussy lips. I was glad I never allowed myself to grow any hair or it would be caked in sperm. I ran my fingers through my lips and my hole had closed by then. I dropped my dress, washed my face and decided to leave my bottom alone. I wondered just how long whatever was left inside of me would stay inside of me.

I had a very wicked, very nasty thought: Would Peter even notice if I was a mess like this tonight? What would he do if he discovered I was crusted with sperm and that I had sperm oozing out of me? Would he say anything? Would he be mad? Would it break up our marriage? Would it turn him on? Would it make him want to have sex with me?

All of a sudden, I was slipping back into my sexy, horny mode, wondering what, if anything, I could do to get my husband to want to do those things he read about as he jerked off to all the time at night.

There was no question in my mind that he desired a slut for a wife, I knew that before we got married. But did he? I say that because of the clothes he always asked me to wear. Clothes that only a whore wanting to fuck lots of boys would dress in. The times I would kneel in front of him and he would talk nasty as hell calling me his slut, his whore, even though neither of us had ever had sex.

Maybe that is why our sex was so bad; maybe he did that to me on purpose, driving me to become something I wasn't. No, no way was that possible, was it? No, it couldn't be, could it? I stood there puzzled as to what I should do and trying to figure out how Peter would react. Look, I didn't want to hurt the man I loved.

Yes, I said I loved him. Peter was my life and I wanted to be with no other man but him outside of sex. But as I had just learned, when it came to sex, it would appear that any man fucking me could make me climax and climax very hard. Well, any man other than my husband, that is.

I looked at myself and said to the woman in the mirror. "Well, my dear, we are going to find out tonight. It is going to make this marriage better or break it. You know what he likes and you know what turns your man on, so tonight will be your turning point."

I fixed my lipstick, my hair and my dress, and I walked out to leave. Jack was still there and he came to me and said, "Look, Linda, I'm sorry for what I did, I really am, look let me buy you dinner."

He handed me some bills and stuffed them in my hand, he said, "Take your husband out tonight and try to put this past you." I looked in my hand and I had two $100 bills in it.

I looked at him and said, "Thank you, Jack, I just may take Peter out. This is going to be a big night for us, and don't fret about what happened earlier. I think I wanted it as bad as you boys did. I'll keep your money and anytime you feel the need to give me money to ease your conscience, I'll take it as well. Mr. Case has already fixed it so I will be doing anything you nasty boys want me to do, so I'll see you tomorrow."

I walked past him and got into the open elevator.

My mind was racing, and now that Jack gave me that $200 I pulled out my cell phone and called Peter. I told him that I had received a bonus and I asked him if he would like to go out to dinner and a drink or two. Peter actually sounded excited when I asked. He agreed and I told him to meet me at the Shanty Shack on Fourth and State streets at 5:30.

I had a thought but, to be honest, I had not worked it all out in my mind yet. I remembered how many of the stories that Peter had in his library about a couple going to a bar, the woman would dance and turn on men, then have sex with them there at the club someplace. Most of the time, in the bathroom or a storeroom or on a pool table. They would then go home and the woman would have the husband clean her out with his mouth.

Many of the stories had the woman doing it with black men that were huge or had monster dicks. And the husbands always had small dicks or tiny ones. The women controlled the husbands, dominating them to do whatever they wanted. Some of the crap they made their husbands do was really sick, way beyond anything I'd even bring up here.

I drove over and parked in the parking structure. I walked into the place and it was very busy. I knew that the place was a hip bar and restaurant. I also knew that many people from my company went there after work. I saw a stool at the bar open up, so I took it before someone else could. I was not there one minute before a man stood next to me and said, "May I buy you a drink, honey?" I looked at him knowing that my husband would be arriving in about ten minutes or so and said, "Sure, you can just as long as you dance with me later. I get horny as hell dancing. Would you save this seat for me? I need to go to the ladies' room. I'll be right back. I am drinking a vodka martini."

I knew that I was really on dangerous ground. I wanted to wipe the crusted sperm off me just in case anyone I met would want to touched me down there tonight. I had pretty much decided to give Peter a chance to watch his wife do the very things that he read about. I just knew that when that night was over Peter would either love me more or hate me.

I have to say that at that point in my life I had to have it one way or the other. I was tired of not having a sexual marriage. We were going to have sex in our life and our marriage on way or another. Now you already know that I was not about to let it continue the way I had been going. Earlier that day, I found out that climaxing while a man is fucking you is out of this fucking world. As much as I love masturbating and using things to fuck myself, nothing is better than climaxing with a hard cock deep inside of you, squirting its sperm.

I wet a paper towel, went into a stall, peed and cleaned myself, getting rid of all the crusted sperm on me. I wiped the insides of my thighs that had lines of crusted sperm on them. I went back to the bar and claimed my seat and toasted the man who bought me the drink. I sat down and he stood next to me. As I sat he put his hand on my left leg raising his glass of beer he said, "A toast to dancing, may it give you the feeling you crave and hopefully the sex you are seeking!"

I raised my glass and after we tipped our glasses, I sipped and said to him as his hand was halfway up my thigh, "That was a pretty bold toast. What's on your mind tonight?"

As I said those words I felt his fingers reach his goal. He answered, "I think the same as yours, honey. I see you are sopping wet, and you are already hot, aren't you, honey?" I leaned into him and said, "Oh, yeah, you know it, but I'm going to have some drinks, dance a little have dinner with my husband and go home and fuck his brains out."

The man tensed and said, "Your husband, is he here? Are you one of those freaky couples who go out, act nasty, tease men, then go home and do it?" I took a drink and said, "I don't think so. I never did this before. I think he wants to watch me act like a slut. I even think he would get off watching men paw me like you are doing. Oh, don't stop, that feels good and if you keep it up, I am close to coming. Yeah, that's it. nice and deep. work that clit."

I moaned and said, "This is an experiment and if you are lucky, you may get some of that before you leave and before my dinner." He was leaning into me and I put down my drink, then I reached between us to his crotch. I felt his hard cock and I worked it as he finger-fucked my pussy.

He said in my ear, "I could fuck you right here on the bar if it wouldn't get us thrown in jail." I looked around the room and I saw Peter, he had a pitcher of beer in front of him and a half glass in his hand, he looked at him and our eyes met. I turned my head to the stranger and I put my mouth on his, I sucked in his tongue and he mine. He worked my clit until I came hard. I jerked his cock through his pants and as I came I squeezed it hard. Our mouths never broke our kiss. I felt myself coming down from my climax.

I thought that with what we had just done had caught the eyes of everyone in the place. I looked around and nothing had changed, no one was looking at us except my husband. His glass was now full and the pitcher was now half empty. He raised his glass at me and I said the stranger, "Take me to the men's room and fuck me."

He said, "What about dancing first?" I looked at him holding his cock, I said, "Look, I don't have much time before he gets here. If you want to fuck me, let's do it now. If not, get away from me so I can find a man that will."

He said as he pulled his hand from under my dress, "Let's do it, baby, fuck the dancing." I smiled at him, taking his hand and said, "Oh no, buddy, fuck me first, then you can do the dancing later."

I walked first, leading him as we walked right by my husband. I smiled and kept walking. I did not turn around to see what Peter did. I walked to the back hallway and straight to the door marked "men." The stranger held my hand and was right behind me. There was a man in there washing his hands; I walked to an open stall, stepped in and bent over the stool as he raised the back of my dress. We did not close the stall door and he began fucking me hard and fast. I reached under my dress and began working my clit as he fucked me. I came hard and I let him as well as the man who had been washing his hands know that I loved every fucking moment of his cock in me.

He came and before I knew it or could stand up, he zipped his pants and almost ran out of there. I heard another zipper and a man say. "Here's another one for you, cunt!" He slid in me and began fucking. I never stopped rubbing my clit and I was coming by his second stroke. He called me a fucking slut and a cheap whore, he fucked me fast and it seemed like he was never going to come. I had three climaxes while he fucked me.

I was lost in my pleasure do I barely heard him asking me if I liked being fucked by strangers. I moaned "yes," as he kept pounding me. I heard him ask me if I wanted another man, he said there was another buy waiting to fuck me. I told him "yes" he came hard and he leaned over me and said into my ear, "I'll be at the table waiting for you. You promised me dinner, take your time, I'll wait."

I turned my head and it was Peter, It was Peter! My God, it was my husband who had just fucked me in the men's room, asking me if I wanted to do the next man behind him. I felt him pull back and he said out loud to whatever men were in there, "Now there is one hot fucking slut. Just line up. Boys. the bitch is hot and wants more cock. I don't think the bitch can ever get enough."

I heard his voice fade as he walked out and another man replaced my husband and then another and another. I had eight men fuck me in the men's room. My legs began to hurt as well as my lower back. I pushed myself up and dropped the back of my dress. There was one more man waiting to fuck me and he was begging for me to stay. He offered me, $100, then $200, and finally $300 if I would fuck or suck him.

I looked at him and said, "Sorry, honey, my husband is waiting for me at the table. I need to get back before he gets suspicious and comes in here." I walked out and I was glad the music was so loud as it covered the air escaping from my pussy as I walked. It sounded as if I were farting with every step as I walked.

I saw Peter at the table, I had a martini waiting and he had his beer. I sat down, looking at him. waiting for some kind of reaction -- good, bad, mad or something to tell me what he was feeling. He had a strange look on his face and I remembered that this was the same man who in bed never gives me two strokes before climaxing, yet in the men's room he fucked me for so long I had three climaxes with him in me, fucking me hard and wild.

I picked up my drink and said to him, "Here is to a nice dinner, and when we get home, I have a lovely cream pie just for you to eat. I made it myself a while ago. You do know you are going to eat the cream pie I made for you, don't you, dear?"

The look on his face I could never remember seeing, I just knew that I had pushed it way too far. I just knew he was about to explode and I was thankful I was in a public place if he did. But he raised his glass and said, "I always wanted to eat one of those. Tonight may be the perfect night. I guess it would all depend on how you think I should eat it."

I smiled and looked into his eyes and said, "You are going to eat it on your back and you will get every bit of cream from it before you get anything else from me, and this is the first of many, many pies you will be cleaning up from."

I watched as he squirmed in his seat. He raised his glass and said, "Of many!" and we touched our glasses and drank. From that moment on, nothing was said about anything sexual. I had a steak, Peter had fish, we talked about our friends and when the lady brought us our check I said, "Honey, I'm going to grab just one more thing from the restroom. I won't be too long. I want everything to be real special for you tonight, and I'm not so sure I have everything I need."

I did not wait for any kind of response; I got up and walked into the men's room again. I saw two men pissing. I said as I walked into one of the open stalls, "If you boys are quick about it, I have a very hot, wet pussy that needs some more cock!"

I leaned forward over the stool, lifted the back of my dress and as I did one of the men was already there, shoving his cock in me. He pumped a few times and came. The next man took longer, and, in fact, took long enough for other men to come in and they then fucked me. They all called me nasty names and that just turned me on more. About the fourth man who fucked me was taking a lot of time, and he began talking about how weak my husband must be to allow me to get gangbanged like this. He said, "I bet you husband has a tiny dick and the only satisfaction you get is fucking strangers."

The more he talked the closer I listened, and I turned to look at him and it was, as I thought, Peter. I said loud enough for all the men there to hear, "He's a fucking wimp, he can't fuck me, he can't make me come. I have to masturbate or fuck men like you anyplace I can. He's out there right now waiting for me. Fuck me hard; make me come like he never could. Do me real good and tomorrow I'll let you fuck me in my asshole if you want."

Peter moaned and held me tight as he came in me. I climaxed at the same time and I have to tell you, I fucking loved it! This little game was driving me crazy with lust and love for my husband. He pulled out and said, "I'll be here tomorrow night and I expect to fuck that ass of yours after work. I'll bring some friends if you want, bitch?" I looked at him and said, "I'll fuck any man who wants this pussy or ass. Bring all your fucking friends, you asshole."

I felt a dick rubbing up and down my oozing opening and then I felt it at my asshole as a man said, "I ain't waiting for tomorrow night, bitch, I'm getting that ass now." He pushed in as I pushed back. It hurt like hell for a moment, then it began to feel better than any cucumber I ever put in my ass. He kept fucking me and finally came. Two others fucked me (in my pussy) and I had to almost fight my way out of the men's room. I walked to the table where Peter was waiting, we left and he drove my car home. Nothing was said, about half way home I leaned over unzipped his pants and felt his crusted damp dick, I opened my mouth and began to taste the left over sperm on his cock. Sperm from so many men, the smell of it made my mind swirl.

I don't know what it was about it, but I got so excited knowing I was sucking my husband's cock and that it was covered with so much sperm that came out of me. It did not take long before Peter's peter was hard again. Once I had him nice and hard I sat up and just left his cock stand there sticking straight up.