Wing Woman

Somehow she seemed to know I didn't matter. She didn't try to please me. In fact, she had ordered me to get under and "lick that clit, bitch." A very dominant little blond 20 something powder puff.

And the saddest thing? I was starting to get off on it. I'd always been a good Southern submissive woman. A good submissive wife in the bedroom. Well, good until I started fucking around. Then just good looking and submissive.

I never thought I would be submissive in just this way, but... somehow it worked. I was wet, I was licking that ursurper clit like I loved it. I was shocked to realize I did. I did love watching her get pounded by "my" man, and whimper into her second orgasm of the night. I guess that sound was music to his ears as well because he emptied his cum inside her soon after. They had quickly established that she had just tested clean and was on both the pill and the copper IUD.

"Oh damn that was good! And look at the mess you made of my cunny!" Giggle. "Clean it up bitch."

It took me two heartbeats to realize that: 1. I was the bitch, again; and 2. What I was to clean. For a wild moment, I thought of getting a towel, but Master's demanding look told me that wasn't what he wanted. My head was headed for her oozing cunt before I could stop myself and throw up.

It wasn't as bad as I expected. I'm not sure why I would think it would be different; I'd sucked a lot of cock and licked a few pussies. Tangy. Salty. The combination was unique and familiar. Very humiliating. I could feel myself drip down my leg. That was the "very" in humiliating. He grabbed my hair and pushed my face into her slit.

After she was gone, my loving hubby cleaned off his own dick, and then pointed at the phone.

"Call your favorite lover and tell him you've had a financial emergency. Ask if you can borrow a few hundred and make it up to him with an amazing night of fucking. Tell him your husband has the kids out camping and you are free all night."

"Are you going to..."

"I'll be here. You will service him in the guest bedroom. Get paid first."

Donny was hung, and amazing in the sack, but poor, and married. Tom was rich, and had already offered to buy me. But he smelled bad. Harry, who had no body hair, was divorced, and had been on the receiving side of the settlement because it was her fault, and her family was rich and wanted no noise. I had a bit of a time convincing him to come here rather than have me there, but I did it, and I'm ashamed to say I was wet when he took me, $500 on the dresser.

I came with the picture in my head of my husband's cock in that little blond cunt. How that got me off I still don't really understand. Maybe it was being the property of such a strong man. Honestly, I think it was just a pretty picture. Like one of my fashion magazines, just with a little more skin. The perfect bodies displayed in such ideal settings. She hadn't bothered to take off her little club sundress. It was really just a wisp of cloth; she had just pulled it up and slipped off her dental floss g-string.

Her tits weren't even out when he fucked her. She pulled one out later and he bit it when he fucked her the third time. He picked up on that and choked her a little. He'd apparently guessed right about what she was into because it made her squirt. I'd had to clean that up as well. But she did look good. Like a model. And the cloth of her dress was... expensive.

I realized I am a fashion slut; the picture, the appearance of passion and beauty and fine things excites me.

Or I'm just an expensive whore.

I came again when hairless Harry unloaded his smooth balls on me. Knowing I was hot enough to turn a $500 trick in a few minutes did wonders for my self esteem. And after I'd cum, knowing that I was officially a hooker tore it right back down. Master told me I was a good girl when I handed him the money. I glowed and cried at the same time.

Sunday

Church on Sunday was surreal. I explained that I would be taking a leave of absence due to a family emergency. I knew the hypocrites wouldn't stop until they had a reason, so I said it was an unexpected diagnosis. I found out a week later that the rumor mill had decided I had terminal cancer. Or kidney failure. A few were sure it was herpes and I had to squash that quickly so my soon-to-be clients wouldn't stop sniffing around my slit.

I collected another $500 that afternoon. A deacon. He wondered where my husband had gone and I told him the kids had won a trip. I said I needed the money for my treatments. He said he would do whatever he could to make sure I was ok; as his dick slid up my ass. His wife felt that was dirty and he missed it from his days in the seminary. Poor thing. Eyeroll. I hoped it kept him from more innocent targets.

That night we had to try on three club candy canes before we found one who wanted to be unwrapped and licked. It turns out that having your wife just say "Hi, you would be lucky to fuck him" was pretty effective. This one was latin, long black hair, thic, and she didn't want me anywhere near. I sat in our living room and listened to them fuck. Four times. Master insisted they keep the bedroom door open.

I fell asleep chanting 29, 29, 29.

Monday

Monday morning I woke up to him jacking off on me. I tried to help again, but he still wouldn't let me touch him. He rubbed his cock in the sperm on my face. I could feel the filth on my soul as real as my stained club dress.

"Your friend Celia. She's looked at me a couple of times. Tell her you would like her to fuck me tonight. I'm going to ask Bonnie at work if she really does want to 'run away' with me next weekend."

I just nodded. The horror movie that was my life rolled on. And my pussy clenched. Celia would lick me while he fucked her, she had suggested it during one of our rolls in the hay. She owned a farm. And a very long tongue. I tried to remember a "Bonnie" and I wanted her to die.

"What do you make? About 2 grand a month? You are halfway there. See if you can line up another regular today. Remember you need to be far enough ahead that we have time to arrange another place when the kids come back. Or work around their schedule. Look for men who can cum at lunch."

Habit made me try to kiss him goodbye. I stopped myself a fraction of a second before he walked away. He knew though. He'd pulled back before he peeled off.

I was filthy.

With a sigh, I picked up the phone before remembering I'd smashed it and I needed to get the numbers from my computer. Maybe Andy? Probably Tom, damn it. Oh, anal in the shower! Tom had wanted my ass. And Celia of course.

Lots to do, lots to do. Breakfast, workout (what whore doesn't need to keep her figure?) and a replacement phone to keep contacts straight.

I laughed when I saw that Celia's number ended in 28.

That afternoon, during my third shower of the day, trying to get the Tom stink off my skin, after the "ass fucked in the shower by Tom" shower, which had followed the "get the sweat and stink off my skin and soul" shower that morning, I realized that I was horny. Tom hadn't gotten me off, but his huge cock up my poop shoot had fired me up. God I was taking to this whore thing like a duck to water. Or a whore to whoring. I couldn't believe I was horny.

And it wasn't just the men paying for me. That was a turn on, for sure, but it was also flashing back to how hot my husband looked fucking that little bossy blond, or that raven haired latin beauty (yeah, I'd snuck a peek) that was also revving me up.

I realized I was looking forward to Celia's visit that evening, because there was some hope that he would let her lick me off while he fucked her. And I knew his cock would look good sliding in and out of her. And she was hot, and had a tight little body. I shuddered thinking about how long it had been since I'd creamed with her face buried in my split.

Thinking about that got me to put on one of my new club dresses instead of anything more normal for the evening. The look on my husband's face when he came through the door was worth it. I might be damaged goods, a filthy cheating whore in his eyes, but I could still make his eyes bug out. And it felt good to be complimented.

"You look good, dear wife."

"Thank you... um... Master."

"And your income didn't suffer?"

"No, Master. There is $500 more on the dresser."

"Who was it?"

"It was... Tom... Master."

"The smelly one?"

"Yes Sir. He has money and had wanted my back door for a long time, so I took him in the shower. Also trying to keep the smell down."

He sniffed me. "Still smells like 'whore', but I don't smell him on you."

I frowned, but it didn't hurt as much as it had just a couple days before.

"Did you cum with his cock up your ass, whore? Or was he too small?"

"Oh, no, Tom is huge. Not long but with a bulb at the end of his cock. It hurt at first and then the shower didn't do as much for the smell as I'd hoped. And he finished quickly, so I didn't get off."

He cocked his head to the side. "Did you jill off after, or are you still horny?"

"No Sir. I mean, yes Sir I'm still horny and I didn't jill off. I... I don't cum unless I'm doing what you ordered, Master." I didn't know I was going to say that until after it left my mouth. I guess I wanted him to understand how much I was devoted to him.

He frowned. "Men know when you aren't enjoying it. You won't keep your clients long if you don't cum for them."

"Oh, Sir, I enjoy it. Even with Tom. After the pain faded I was into it. I was whimpering and begging for it harder and all that. And I meant it, Sir." I took a breath and continued "I'm a whore, Sir, just like you thought." And I was, I realized.

He smiled. "Good. Welcome to the rest of your life."

"But... you said I could earn my way back Master? Aren't you ever going to touch me?" I started to cry, slowly, tears sliding without effort off my face.

"Oh, I'll start using you again, when we are even. But I've decided I like this. I get to fuck who I want, I get my wife at home most of the time, and still have your income. And anyway, if we stopped, I'd always expect you to be cheating. This way, I know what's happening."

He was tenting the front of his pants, smiling. I tentatively reached out and he let me rub his cock through his pants, but stopped me when I tried to unzip him.

"No, I'm saving this for your pretty little friend Celia tonight," he grinned. "You did set that up?"

"Yes Sir. She will be here right after dinner." I fluttered my eyes at him. "And Sir, would you let her lick me off while you fuck her? Please Master?"

He looked a bit surprised, but then smiled. "I guess that depends on how much I enjoy my dinner. You do have dinner on, don't you slave?"

I smile wryly at the conservativeness of it all. After marrying a man who always helped in the kitchen and made dinner half the time, and railed against the sexualization and poor treatment of women, now I was quickly adjusting to being his total slave and bringing him fresh slit to fuck. Then I ran off to serve the meal I'd prepared for my Master. And the rubbing of my thighs together in the tight little club dress proved I was leaking.

Not only am I a filthy whore, and a slave to my Master, but even then, I was starting to like it.

That night, with Celia's face between my legs and her tongue as far as it would go up my pussy, I was really enjoying it. Every time his dick slammed up her cunt, the little cunt's nose would bump my clit. I got off twice before she did and then once more before he dumped his balls in her. She looked so very, very pretty getting pounded by my Master.

As before, I cleaned up the mess with my tongue. And this time, he slapped my ass and told me I was a good girl. I literally wiggled my tail. He ignored it.

He fucked Celia four times that night. Once more in her pussy, then her ass, then he finished in her mouth. He made me clean him off after ass fucking her and I was overjoyed to lick another womens ass juice off his hard cock. By the end of the night, I'd lost count of how many times I'd cum.

It got completely out of hand when they started letting me pose them. So lovely! Her softness and curves with his hardbody. I even took a few pictures, being careful not to include their faces.

Tuesday

I came several times just flipping through the pictures the next day. I'd called Master for permission and he allowed it, after I'd cleaned the house (it needed it) and fucked one of my lovers who texted me; for $750 because he'd wanted oral and anal. Not in that order.

Bonnie called and asked me if it was really ok with me if she fucked my husband. Once I got my breath back I told her she should do it.

"But... you don't sound happy about it."

"Well, I'm not, but... I can't really object."

"Oh. I won't participate in anything that is being forced. Don't worry, honey I won't do it."

"NO! Um... I need you to. Look... I cheated on him. Like, a lot. And now I owe him until he has had as much as I did. Until he's caught up... "

"Wow," Bonnie said. After a short pause she asked, "So you are letting him get as much nookie as you got and then you are still going to try to stay together."

"Yes. I was wrong, and I should pay for it. This is his punishment and I accept it. I love him and... I hope I can win him back."

"Hmm.... Can you and I have lunch? I want to talk to you."

Bonnie and I met at a cafe midway between us and we had a good talk. I cried. She hugged me. It all came spilling out, in hushed tones. Thank god the cafe was mostly empty, and we sat out on the patio, huddled together.

"Oh Bonnie, I've ruined it all!" I wailed in whispers. "I love him so much, yet I cheated on him again and again. I'm a whore and a failure as a wife, but I'll do anything to stay with him. And I'll let him do anything if only he doesn't leave me."

"Why did you cheat? Was he not good in bed? Were you not getting the attention you needed?"

"No, no... he's always been great in the sack," I smiled for a moment through my tears. "But with the kids, and work, he didn't seem as interested. He didn't really look at me, you know?"

She nodded.

"So isn't this partly his fault? I mean, a tiny bit."

That pulled me up short. I really thought about it.

"No, not really. I mean... it's hard to explain. When I wanted attention, he gave it to me. But he didn't chase me. I grew up being the prettiest girl in the trailer park. And I'm not being egotistical. My adopted sister Trish and I were far and away the best looking in the place. As long as I can remember, I've had boys and men chasing me."

Bonnie nodded, looking me over and grinning. I flushed. But god it was nice to be seen, even by her.

"My mom about killed herself protecting us. She explained about boys and men and made sure I was never alone with anyone. Not even cousins, uncles or my step dad."

"Oh, I know how that is. I've got my own stories about uncles. But how does this relate to your marriage?"

"It stopped. You know? When I got married, men would still look at me when I wasn't with my husband, and even sometimes when I was. And then even after we had our kids, and while I was pregnant, there were always eyes on me. I didn't even realize it, or how much I expected it... no, how much I needed it, until it wasn't there anymore."

"You're still a stunning woman, it couldn't have stopped."

"Well, it did. Working for the church, I was expected to wear more conservative clothes. And I guess I let my hair go, just keeping it easy. It's amazing how much a bit of makeup does for me. Without it, I'm actually very plain. And I was around the same people, day in and out."

Bonny nodded.

"I knew something was wrong a long time before I figured out what it was. It took me months to realize and then even longer to accept that I missed being pursued. I found it hard to believe that so much of my own self worth was tied up in being an object of sexual desire for men."

"Oh. My, my. Yes, I guess I know what you mean. It's a tension we are raised to expect and no one ever thinks about how we might come to enjoy it, or even need it."

"Right? And then when it was gone, and I realized how little there was left of me as a person if I wasn't wanted by a man; I sank into a depression. It was diagnosed as post partum, although it had been months after my youngest was born. The doctor gave me happy pills and wow, that jump started things in the bedroom! I was after hubby so much I wore him out. And that was the final nail. He was 'too tired' and I felt so rejected and ugly."

"And you didn't just tell him that because talking about our own needs isn't allowed."

"I guess so. Honestly the thought of telling him all this hasn't ever crossed my mind, not until just now."

We paused and sipped our tea, both of us lost in thought.

"So that's when you started having an affair?"

"Yes. The funny thing was I'd worn a bit of a racy outfit for him, for my husband, because I knew he was going to meet me at work for a dinner date. But it was Bob, the building and grounds guy for the church who noticed. I could feel him looking me over that day. And hubby was sick that night so I got nothing from him. The next day, I wore another old outfit, a bit tight up top, you know, and Bob was eyeing me all day. It was like a drug, I'm telling you, I couldn't get enough."

Bonnie giggled.

"I was horrible! I 'dropped' things and bent over when he was walking by the windows. I made excuses to go talk to him. When I was alone with him, he complimented me over and over. And then I noticed he was getting hard and that was all it took. I was desirable again; and Bob was always neat and well dressed, even when doing yard work. Pressed shorts and a polo shirt; all very squared away and semi fashionable. And so good looking. I panicked when the day was ending and I brushed my hand over his pants, feeling his hardness and asked him if that was for me."

"Oh girl! You go!"

"Oh Bonnie, I went! But that's what started it all!" I started to cry again. "I was soooo horny, all the time. I couldn't think about anything but sex and I cheated and ruined my marriage!"

"Hush, hush now. I don't think it's ruined."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he still loves you. I can tell. He's just hurt and you know how men run on pride. He needs to recover his 'manhood' whatever that is. The trick is, can you come out on equal footing instead of him hurting you so bad you can't get over it, after you hurt him so bad."

And that's how I ended up best friends with Bonnie while begging her to fuck my hubby.

Wednesday

He came home with a smile for me after his first "date" with Bonnie. I even got a thank you, as if it were my choice, although I was strangely happy about it. He looked bigger, taller, stronger. I guess men are vain as well.

We took a break after that. I'd earned my monthly quota plus a bit, and my mother in law was tired of watching the kids. And his dick was sore, as was my ass after Tom, and my pussy after all those lovely cums on Celia's tongue.

So the club dresses went away and the roles returned to normal. At least on the surface. The kids knew something was off, but at least we were still together. That was the hope I clung to; that even if I was only his hoe, and Wing Woman, at least he hadn't left me.

Thursday

I spent the next day while the kids were at school alternating between sobbing and fucking / posing myself with a dildo and butt plug while texting pictures to Master at his request. By the end of the day, I was numb. Sore. And somehow still horny, especially when I saw how hot I looked in those pictures.

Thinking about how important my appearance was to me made me go and check out online porn. I'd never done such a nasty thing before, but I wanted to know how I compared. Even hating my body as every woman does, I thought I might compare to some of the women online.