Here we go with another special featured illustrated story.
Archive for the ‘Slut Wife Stories’ Category
Herman’s Revenge
Thursday, July 28th, 2005Unlike most of life, in the case of Clarissa and Alex’s
tryst in his office, reality proved better than fantasy.
Practicality, however, suggested that crashing almost an entire
lab of computers (the PC’s were unscathed) was not the best
course of action to reach sexual ecstasy on a regular basis.
Fortunately, Alex’s department had a key for a little used
conference room in the library. It was small, with nice pile
rugs, and best of all, located in a part of the library that was
rarely frequented. So life continued in a rather pleasant fashion
for them both.
As far as the 12 Macs which had suffered from that rather
sudden viral flu, they seemed to make a swift spontaneous
recovery. In the weeks that followed, they both would often break
out in laughter when they remembered the frenzy Clarissa’s little
joke had caused Herman, the lab director. Since nothing even near
permanent damage was done, the incident began to fade into the
past. So Clarissa was a little taken aback when she received
Herman’s email message.
First of all, no one on the East coast knew her email
address, except Alex and she was sure he had not given it to
Herman. Also the tone of the message gave her a little start.
“TO: Clarissa Stone
FROM: Herman Jejune
Please see me in the lab at 4:00, Thursday.”
Of course, she would go. Since her sudden interest in Macs,
her relationship with Herman had improved immensely. He was not
really a bad sort, but rather one who fleshed out the definition
of ‘computer nerd.’ Rumor had it that he was gay. Having a sixth,
seventh and even eighth sense about these things, though,
Clarissa didn’t think so.
Being a happy-go-lucky type person she didn’t give it too
much thought after the initial message. That is until Thursday
arrived and she saw Alex standing wordlessly in the lab next to
Herman.
“You probably are wondering why we are all gathered here
today.”
Suppressing a groan, Alex looked at Clarissa nervously.
Seeing that his attempt at humor had once again fallen flat,
Herman got straight to the point.
“I know that you were responsible for what happened to my
Macs. I also know what you were doing in Alex’s office on that
day and what you are continuing to do in room 302 in the
library.”
Because the lab caper was entirely her doing, she was
surprised at Alex’s answer.
“It was really only a little joke. I really didn’t mean any
harm.”
Instead of the usual twinge in her twat, hearing his gallant
words made her feel a tug elsewhere.
Herman wasn’t buying any sort of apology, though. He
continued recounting the university’s policy about fornication on
campus. Until this point, Clarissa didn’t even know they had one.
Her mind started drifting to visions of her and Alex standing on
unemployment lines. Herman’s next words brought her quickly back
to earth.
“I also know that you are both married, however, not to each
other.”
Chivalry or not, she decided to take the bull by the horns.
“What do you want?”
Knowing that he had the upper hand, he quickly retorted, “So
glad you finally asked.” His bravura quickly faded when his
explanation actually began.
After a lot of uhs, and you-knows they found out that Herman
did indeed like women, very much so. His problem was that he
couldn’t get it up.
“In exchange for my silence, I would like the two of you to
give me a little lesson on how it’s done. To insure you use your
best teaching methods, I will add that if I don’t get an erection
while watching, I will have to inform all parties about your
activities. I noted that Wednesday afternoon is the usual time
for your rendezvous in the library, so I have scheduled a private
seminar in the lab next week. I trust that you will be there.”
With these words, they departed. Alex was the first to break
the silence.
Herman learns a good lesson and even joins in. Read this story in full detail and many more here.
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Monday, June 20th, 2005
I knew being a cop’s wife would be hard. The only thing I didn’t anticipate was the loneliness. We’re a young married couple, struggling for money, so Ted works all the overtime he can which leaves me at home alone. It got to be more than I could stand, so I started going out and hitting the local clubs. Looking back, I guess I was looking for trouble, but I didn’t realize it until I’d found it. I like to attract a little attention when I go out. It’s a good way to keep your bar tab down. That I slipped into a thin cotton dress which was cut high above the knee andlow on my chest – and so tight it guarenteed I’d get all the attention I wanted. The club was typically crowded for a Friday night. All the regulars were there, including this guy Brian who’d been flirting with me hard for the last couple weeks. He knew I was married, but that didn’t seem to stop him. I wouldn’t have been so encouraging, but he was damned hot, tall, dark, broad chest I flirted with him all night. I even let him drag me onto the dance floor and grind me for a while. I could feel his cock through his jeans and it did make me more than a little curious. Of course, the more he drank, the more Brian tried to fondle me. I was enjoying it, even though I had no intention of letting things go further. I finally suggested he step outside to get some air. He said he would, if I went too. I agreed.
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Wife’s First Black Cock
Sunday, June 19th, 2005Our only experience swinging was in Jamaica. I found how enticing
Terry can be to other men, and how excited I got watching her fucking.
She truly enjoyed sex and got off on all the attention. We decided to
find some playmates upon our return. It took a few months and sifting
through email from a few web sites, but I finally found a reasonable
single male. Martin appreciated her photos, seemed well spoken and had
the added benefit of being a well-built black man who was quite well
endowed. Thick and a good 9 – 10 inches. Significantly bigger than
Terry was used to with me. We scheduled a date at a very nice hotel
downtown. Terry only fucks other men for me in 4 star hotels. Go
figure…
She was as nervous as I had ever seen, and slightly bitchy during the
day. Normally I might have withdrawn a bit but not this day. We spent
the day shopping to pass the time, a few clothes and a household item.
I was floored when she suggested a new video camera. An impulse buy
which gave me an instant erection thinking about the upcoming evening.
After a brief dinner, we returned to the hotel to get ready. She took
a leisurely bath and allowed me to “practice” with the new camera
while she fingered herself in the tub. I then had the distinct
pleasure of trimming her pussy to my desire with her spread eagle on
the bed. I had picked out a tight red velvet textured outfit – a short
skirt without panties and a top which tied in the front. Dressed to
kill, and looking both sexy and slutty. A glass of wine to calm the
nerves and off we go.
We sat in the lobby for a few minutes, waiting for Martin to arrive.
We had actually not seen pictures above the neck, so we scrutinized
every black man walking into the lobby. Finally, a tall gentleman made
his way toward us and introduced himself. Bingo. As soon as he sat
down next to Terry on the couch, I saw her nervousness melt away. She
was immediately comfortable and it was obvious they both found each
other attractive. Another glass of wine, and we headed off to find a
bar to relax and get acquainted. I drove my SUV, while Terry and
Martin rode in the back.
We found a cigar bar which was surprisingly empty, and made our way to
a dark area in the back. We claimed a couch and sat Terry in the
middle with Martin and I on either side. Perfect. Martin talked a bit
about his previous experiences swinging, and we relayed our relatively
modest experiences in Jamaica. Slowly the place filled up, and we were
surrounded by other couples and groups. A young woman in a skin tight
cat suit straddled the lap of an older gentleman directly in front of
us. We watched as he rubbed her crotch through the cat suit. I
wondered how Terry was feeling, and slipped my had under her thigh to
find out. My fingers found her pussy wet. Martin and I switched places
so he could do the same. She kept her legs crossed the same way to
give him access to her pussy. Now the other couples were watching us.
Terry leaned back and closed her eyes for a minute, enjoying the
finger fucking she was getting from our new friend in front of
strangers. She then announced that we had to leave, so I quickly paid
the tab and off we went. I went to the parking lot to find my SUV,
leaving Terry and Martin leaning on a car. She had spread her legs so
he could continue to finger her, with a patio bar across the street.
They finally joined me in the SUV, again in the back seat. He
continued to finger her pussy while she unzipped his pants and began
sucking him all the way back to the hotel. Through the rearview
mirror, I could see her struggling to get his wide cock in her mouth.
She managed admirably, but had her jaw and mouth as wide as possible.
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Rita Bangs Old Friend
Tuesday, June 7th, 2005Today’s story is called Rita Bangs Old Friend and it is exclusive to another website so I can’t post it here.
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Fantasy Answered
Monday, June 6th, 2005My name is Diane. I want to share something that happened to me when
my husband and I ventured into an interracial experience. I am not one
of the beautiful people that are in many stories here. I am just an
average looking mother and housewife. I am 50 years old and my husband
(Don) is 52. We have been married for 31 years. We have 3 grown
children who are out on their own. I am 5′2″, 110, 34C and wear a size
6P. I walk daily and do aerobics at least once per week. I would like
to think that I am in good shape. (except for the wear and tear of
giving birth, and the never ending perils of gravity) J Don is 5′8″ a
bit overweight and not very endowed. He does not exercise at all and
has a high stress job. Over time our sex life has diminished. We talk
a lot and have shared some fantasies with each other.
His fantasy has always been to watch me with another man, preferably
one that is well endowed. He even suggested a black man. One of my
fantasies was also to try a well endowed man and I secretly wanted to
try a black man but didn’t share that with Don. Anyway, we joined an
interracial site called and have been looking through the various
categories. We were both amazed at the popularity of interracial
experiences. After surfing through the many categories, we agreed to
meet a black man. One section was an “advertising” area for people
wanting to get together. We began e-mailing two men from our region
with the plan of pursuing some type of get together.
We narrowed it down to one and have been e-mailing him for a few
weeks. He seemed to be a good candidate for what we wanted. He is 42
years old. He sent pictures and is very well endowed. He boasts of 8
inches and very thick. (Hubby is slightly over 5″) Don and I talked
about this and agreed to the meeting. Our plan was to meet at a major
hotel at a halfway point since neither of us can take a chance of
being recognized. Don agreed to let me be alone for the first time. I
explained that I would be too nervous with him in the room. Our plan
was to rent two rooms that abut with an adjoining inner door. He would
be next door while I met with my new lover.
During the week leading up to my “date”, I had feelings of
apprehension, fear, and excitement. Anyway, the day finally came. Don
and I checked in, paid for the two rooms and headed upstairs so I
could bathe and get ready. The clerk looked a bit confused on us
getting two rooms, especially after signing in as husband and wife.
Once in the room I started to get ready. I bathed in fragrant bath
oils, shaved very neatly and laid in the tub letting my mind wander on
what was in store for me. For my grand evening I planned to dress very
conservatively, since I am an “older” married woman. I selected a
simple black cocktail dress, with matching bra and panties and only 2″
heels. Nothing exotic here. We agreed to meet at the dining room at 7
p.m. The time had arrived and we headed to the dining room. I saw him
the moment I entered the lobby. His name is Derek. He was much better
looking than his picture, standing about 6′2″ and weighing well over
200 pounds but I couldn’t see any fat. He was articulate and a great
talker which put me at ease. I have been a nervous wreck since we set
the date to meet. I donât know if my nervousness was due to this
extra-marital affair or that I was going to experience a long time
fantasy of mine. From the e-mails we shared, I had learned that he was
single, a construction worker from New York and had been with several
white women, married and single. He had even sent us some photos of
him and other women he had been with.
After dinner we went to the lounge for drinks. I normally have no more
than two glasses of wine in an entire evening. This evening I had
three glasses of wine with dinner and had two cosmopolitans in the
lounge. The band was playing and he asked me to dance with him. I
could feel the size of his bulge on my stomach and I got both scared
and aroused. The wine and cosmos took effect and I told Don that I was
ready to go upstairs. I donât know if my head was spinning from the
alcohol, from the excitement of the evening, from the bulge he
continuously pressed into me, from the thought of what was going to
happen, or a combination of everything.
Don knew that I was excited because of the way I kept snuggling to
Derek, dancing every slow dance with him and hanging on every word he
said. We received quite a few stares from the other patrons. Derek and
I left to go to our room while we left Don there to pay the tab. I
leaned over and kissed Don while rubbing my hand up his thigh. He was
hard as a rock. I knew that he was excited about this happening as
well.
As soon as we entered the elevator Derek began rubbing my ass and
cupping my breasts, telling me how good I looked and that I would be
having the time of my life. All I could think of was that large bulge
in his pants and all those myths I had read about concerning black
men, their size and their stamina. I guess I was going to find out if
it was true. I had goose bumps all over. He had asked earlier about my
sex life and was excited to hear that he was the first black man I had
ever been with. He even called me a virgin. It’s been a long time
since anyone ever referred to me as virgin anything.
The time has arrived. My heart was pounding as we got to the door. As
soon as we entered the room he grabbed me and kissed me. I never felt
him pull my zipper down but responded when he slid the straps off of
my shoulders and let my dress fall to the floor. I helped by removing
my bra and kicking off my shoes. He kept kissing my lips, shoulders
and neck while playing with my nipples. I was hoping that he wouldn’t
be disappointed with my 50 year old shape. If he was, he never showed
it. He took my hand and led me to the sofa. He sat down with me
standing in front of him. He began by sucking on my nipples and then
kissing my stomach while slowly pulling my panties down. I was
nervous, excited and soaking wet. He grabbed my ass and pulled me
close to him. I wanted to faint as he started flicking his tongue
against my clit. All I could do was hold the back of his head and pull
him to me. He pulled me onto the sofa and stood up. I watched as he
removed his shirt and started unbuckling his pants. As he dropped his
slacks to the floor I could see the “tenting” of his red silk boxer
shorts. (Don wears white cotton briefs) He took my hands and put them
to his waistband. I knew what he wanted, and he knew what I wanted. As
I pulled his shorts down his cock sprung out at me. It was at least
eight inches and very thick. I began to get nervous, thinking that I
could never handle something this size. It was so dark with thick
veins and a huge set of balls. He sensed my concern and assured me
that everything will be just fine. I tried to take him in my mouth but
could only get a bit more than the head of it in. After a moment or
two of sucking and stroking he pushed me back on the sofa. He knelt
between my legs and began fingering my clit while biting and sucking
on my nipples. He then slid down and began sucking on my clit, darting
his tongue in and out of my pussy. I was in pure heaven. After a few
moments he knelt between my legs. The moment has come. I asked him to
wear a condom. He said he would, but only when he is ready to cum.
Right now he says, this is still foreplay. As he put the head in, I
jerked backwards. He reassured me again, while I begged him to go
slow. He did. After a few moments of short strokes he was halfway in,
and I felt fully stretched. It felt great. He would continue to stroke
me and then frequently pull out and run his cock head on my clit. This
would only make me hotter and I would ask him to put it back in. He
then took my legs and put them on his shoulders as he entered me
again. I had my hands against his thighs and would push back, asking
again for him to go slow and easy. After a few minutes he stopped
moving and was just looking at me, smiling. He then said for me to
look down at his cock. I did and saw that it was all the way in. How
did I take something this large? He began to stroke me slow and deep
and then would speed up and pump me furiously, then go back to slow
and deep. We continued to fuck for quite a while and I was amazed at
his stamina. I lost count of my orgasms. I would close my eyes and
actually see stars.
Click here to read the rest of this interracial fuck fest and many other stories like it!
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Biker Weekend
Thursday, June 2nd, 2005Several years ago, before I had my drinking “problem,” I had the
perfect life. I was educated, employed, financially secure – and best
of all – married to a wonderful woman. We had a pretty little house in
the suburbs, and we both taught at a very prestigious private school.
Amanda taught elementary school Reading, and I taught Math in the junior
high grades.
Amanda and I met in college and married soon after we graduated and
we were both virgins on our wedding night. She was smart and pretty and
demurely affectionate. If there was anything less than perfect about
her, it was the fact that she kept a very tight rein on her emotions.
Serious, insecure, and uptight, Amanda even dressed very conservatively,
and it was only for those too-brief moments when her hair was out of the
bun and she was naked, that I could appreciate the true beauty that she
was. Her insecurities even affected her professional life because other
teachers were promoted around her as she remained docile and submissive
to the administration.
One weekend, I found out that Amanda’s bottled-up emotions took a
toll on her, and when the dam finally broke, it had shocking results.
Teaching junior high, I was familiar with teens going through their
rebellious stage. It was a fact of life for me, and I did everything I
could to make the teenager’s angst as painless as possible, while still
teaching my subject. Also, teaching at a good, and very expensive,
private school, meant cooperating with the parents as much as possible.
One troubled teen was a beautiful girl named Elizabeth.
Elizabeth was 15 and in the midst of a powerful revolt against her
very wealthy parents. Big contributors to the school, her parents asked
for and received cooperation from everyone on the staff. Looking back
on that Spring, I realized that I made a mistake by getting too involved
with Elizabeth and her family.
Part of the phase Elizabeth was going through was in selecting
“wild” boyfriends. Her latest was a biker, years older than her, and
someone we all assumed (correctly) was heavily into drugs and a lot of
other unsavory things.
Just before final exams in the Spring, Elizabeth ran away from
home. For whatever reason, she showed up at our door several days later,
hungry and broke, and spent several nights with Amanda and me. We
helped her get through exams and finally talked her into returning home.
About a week after Elizabeth left, I got a call from her boyfriend.
He made it clear that if he ever heard of me touching her again that he
would kill me. He further threatened to get even somehow for what I had
done with his “old lady.” In a near panic, I tried to assure him that
nothing had happened between Elizabeth and me and that my wife had been
with us the entire time. I don’t think he listened to me at all.
Several weeks passed. School let out for the Summer and Amanda and
I prepared for our vacation. We planned a long weekend away over the
Fourth of July and couldn’t wait to leave as soon as Amanda’s summer
school class dismissed at noon on Friday. I had the car packed and
ready to go when she pulled into the driveway. We had a light lunch and
piled into the car to hit the road.
I had driven perhaps a mile when I suddenly felt the cold steel of
a gun barrel being pressed against my neck. A guy who looked very much
like a large, nasty biker was in the back seat of the car and was very
serious about what he would do to us if I didn’t do exactly as he
ordered.
He told me to drive and, following his instructions, we drove for
almost an hour, far out into the country. We turned off the road and
into a rutted trail and our kidnapper told us to stop next to a van
parked there and to get out. Another, even larger biker climbed out of
the van, pointing a sawed-off shotgun at us. The first guy put our
hands behind our backs and handcuffed us. Then he put silver duct tape
on our mouths and blindfolded our eyes with black cloth. They pushed us
into the van and tied our feet to the sides and then drove, for what
seemed like hours, before stopping the car and pulling us out.
When they removed the blindfolds, all I could tell was that we were
in a huge garage of some kind. It was obviously used to repair
automobiles and motorcycles, as there were several of each sitting
around in the process of being worked on. The first biker shoved us
down on an old schoolbus bench in the corner, leaving us handcuffed. He
further secured us by running a long chain through our arms and
padlocking it to the heavy workbench behind the bus seat.
Amanda and I were both terrified, neither of us knowing exactly
what to expect. I assumed that the bikers were friends of Elizabeth’s
boyfriend and I was very sorry I didn’t call the police after his
threatening phonecall. For all I knew, the idiot would kill us both.
When the two bikers returned, they were accompanied by what appeared to
be the members of some kind of motorcycle gang.
There were about a dozen people. All dressed in typical biker
gear, the men’s ages ran from the mid-20’s, up into the late 40’s or
even 50’s. Two of the girls looked very young, maybe 15 to 17, and the
other two were into their 40’s.
The first biker walked over to us and introduced himself as
“Bronk.” My worst fear came true as he told us he was, indeed,
Elizabeth’s “old man.” He was quite proud of his kidnapping and
explained to the others that he was going to make me wish I had never
fucked his “Lizzie.”
“What’s the slut’s name?” Bronk asked another biker, rifling
Amanda’s purse.
“Her name is Amanda.” It was Elizabeth – Lizzie. She was walking
into the garage, dressed like the rest of the group in dirty jeans and a
denim sleeveless jacket.
Bronk put his arm around Lizzie’s waist and glared down at me,
“Hell man, I told you you would be hearing from me. I wasn’t about to
forget that you fucked my old lady.” (He ignored me as I was
frantically shaking my head!) “I’m not sure yet what I’ll do with you,
yet, but one thing’s for sure – I’m going to have a crack or two at your
little slut, here, before I turn her loose.” With a smile, he raised
his heavy boot and kicked me in the shoulder. I saw stars.
He unlocked the chain and grabbed Amanda. His friend wrapped the
chain around my chest and the workbench leg a few times and re-locked
the padlock. Bronk pulled Amanda to the center of the garage’s open
floor, holding her in front of his friends. She tried to pull out of
his grasp, but he slapped her across the face and she stood still.
“This is a slut cunt, and what do we do with a slut cunt?” he
asked, loudly.
“Fuck it!” shouted one of the men.
“Any damn thing we want,” said one particularly large, bearded man
who looked strong enough to live up to his words. He was older than the
rest of the other men and had “OTTO” tattooed on his bare arm.
Bronk began to strip Amanda of her clothes, but stopped when given
a better idea by one of the women.
“Make her strip for us!” an older, fat bitch shouted.
“Hell, yeah…take ‘em off, little whore. Show us your naked slut
body,” ordered Bronk as he moved away from Amanda, leaving her standing
in the center of the floor, trembling from fear.
Amanda did as they ordered, slowly removing her white summer suit,
blouse, full slip, bra, pantyhose and panties, and letting down her
long, brown hair until she was standing there, stark naked in front of
the whole group. Her fear and submissive nature were such a part of her
that she made no effort to cover her breasts or her pussy, but simply
stood before them and listened with embarrassment as they commented on
her naked body.
Not surprisingly, it met with the men’s approval. At thirty-three,
Amanda had a terrific body. She was 5′7″ and weighed about 120 pounds.
I knew her bra size was 36-C and I guessed her other measurements at
about a 25-inch waist and 36-inch hips. Her legs were long and very
shapely, and her big, round breasts had only just begun to sag – and on
her, it looked sexy.
“Whooo-eee! Look at those titties!”
“Who’d a guessed a bod like that was hidin’ under all them
clothes?”
One of the bikers pushed the big woman who had yelled for Amanda to
strip, out in front of him and pulled open her blouse, showing Amanda
her tits. They were mammoth and sagged almost to her navel.
“These are tits, bitch…those little nubs of yours ain’t even big
enough to see!” he taunted, bringing a hearty laugh from the others. He
pushed his woman up to Amanda and took Amanda’s hands and placed them on
the woman’s breasts as he continued to taunt her. “Feel these tits,
slut. See how her nipples get hard and long? She loves pussy just as
much as the guys here do, and so do the rest of the women. You like
pussy? You better…cause you’re gonna be staring at a lot of it while
you’re here!”
“Enough of this bullshit talk! I want to fuck the bitch!” hissed
Bronk, pulling Amanda away from the now excited, half-naked woman and
pushing her over to an old sedan which was parked near the center of the
garage. He shoved her up against it and bent her over the hood so that
her ass was exposed and pushed out toward him. Reaching down to a drain
pan nearby he covered his hand with automobile oil and spread it over my
wife’s ass, being sure to get plenty on her asshole. Then roughly, and
with no compassion at all, he took his hard cock from his pants and
shoved it up Amanda’s ass and began fucking her hard against the cold
steel fender of the old car.
We all could hear Amanda scream through the duct tape on her mouth.
I felt my stomach flip and wanted to throw up, but I fought it down,
afraid I’d kill myself getting sick while gagged.
In a very short time, Bronk shot his load up Amanda’s ass and
another biker immediately took his place, smearing more oil on her naked
tits and stomach, before shooting his load of cum into my sweet wife.
I watched as they took turns with Amanda, fucking her up the ass or
in her cunt, whichever they chose, over and over again. She cried and
whimpered into the tape, but she never gave them any resistance,
realizing, I’m sure, that it was fruitless to do so. But, to my sheer
and utter amazement, after about four of the bikers had shot their loads
into her, she began to become excited and was actually grinding her ass
back on the thick dicks that pushed themselves into her holes. I
couldn’t believe what I was seeing!
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