I never expected my life to turn out like it has. How could I? When I was growing up sex was everywhere. Ads on TV, ads in the newspapers and magazines, on billboards and on the sides of buses. Scantily clad ladies and buff guys all over the place. Raunchy television shows and movies, magazines dedicated to the beautiful, sexy and famous people. Sex education in the classrooms and guys trying to get in your pants as soon as puberty hit. In my case it was even worse - my parents were swingers and even though they tried to hide it from me they were wasting their time. You can't hide anything from an inquisitive teenager.

I fought off boys from the time I turned twelve until the time I finally gave it up at eighteen and discovered that I liked it. Between the time I turned eighteen and the time I met my husband at twenty-two I'd had sexual relations with twenty-seven guys and I had loved every bit of it. In fact, I was in a torrid relationship with Chad when I met Stan. An introduction, a hello and a handshake and Chad was history.

Even though I fell head over heels in love with Stan and his finding his way between my legs was a sure thing I did make him work for it (I couldn't let the man I intended to marry think I was easy, could I?). It was three weeks and seven dates before he got his first hand job. It took him six weeks to get his first blow job and three months before I opened my legs for him.

Speaking from a purely clinical standpoint the physical aspect of sex with Stan wasn't any better than the sex I'd had with most of my other lovers and as a matter of fact three or four of them were much better in the sack than Stan. What made sex better with Stan than any other sex I'd ever had was the emotional component - the love! I adored the man. I would have crawled through broken glass to get to him. When he asked me to marry him I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I of course said yes and we set a date six months away and we moved into an apartment together.

The six months leading up to the wedding were orgasmic bliss. We had sex almost every day and that carried over into the honeymoon and after. Six months after the wedding I became pregnant with Marsha and Stan and I still made love three or four times a week right up to my eighth month. After Marsha was born and the doctor cleared me to have sex again Stan and I went right back to three, four and sometimes five times a week.

A year went by and then I was pregnant again with Alan. Again it was three or four times a week right up to the eighth month. Stan and I had decided that two kids were all we were going to have and so when Alan was born I had my tubes tied. The seven weeks between Alan's birth and the doctor telling me I could have a sex life again were pure agony.

The day I was cleared I hurried home, took a shower, did my hair and got my make up just right and got ready to greet my hubby when he got home from work. I got my mother to watch the kids for several hours and when Stan came through the front door he found me waiting in a lacy see thru teddy and a pair of high heels.

"Dinner may be a little later tonight Tiger, I thought we would go right to desert."

Stan looked at me like I was from Mars and then said, "Don't be silly Jessica, your tubes are tied."

"What? What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"It means you can't have babies anymore."

"Again, what does that have to do with anything?"

"It means that we don't have any reason anymore to engage in sex."

"You're joking right?"

"Why would I joke about that? Now would you please get out of that getup and start dinner? I'll play with the babies until dinner is ready."

"Then you will have to go over to my mother's to get them."

"Why are they over there?"

"Because I mistakenly assumed that on the day the doctor cleared me to have a sex life again you would like to have two or three uninterrupted hours with me. And when you do get back from my mother's you can fix your own damned dinner" and I stormed up to the bedroom and slammed the door behind me.

Was I mad? No! I was fucking furious! The only reason for sex was to have babies? God damn him! I heard him leave to go get the kids and I sat there on the bed and fumed and the longer I sat the more pissed I got. Finally I screamed out, "Fuck this shit" and took the teddy off, put on a skirt and sweater, grabbed my purse and keys and left the house.

I drove around for a while and ended up at Tony's, an off campus bar I used to frequent when I was young and carefree. I sat down at the bar and ordered a margarita. As I sat there and sipped it I looked around the bar and saw a good half dozen hunky college boys casting sidelong glances at me and wondering what their chances were. What they didn't know was their chances would have been pretty damned good and if one of them had gotten up the nerve to try it was a damned good bet that he would have scored.

I wondered if any of them could tell I had no bra or panties on. I sat there in just skirt, sweater and high heels and felt like THE SLUT personified. I remembered the last time I had been in there. It had been the week before I'd met Chad and I'd had three really cute guys trying to hustle me. After two hours of playing the game with them I made my choice - all three!

I got up from my seat and went over to their table. Looking down on the three of them I said:

"Is one of you going to make a move anytime soon?"

"Actually" one of the guys said, "We have been sitting here arguing over who gets to be the guy to try. We all want to be the one."

"Let me help you out then. I choose you" and I pointed at the one sitting closest to me and when he smiled I said, "And you and you" as I pointed at the other two. They all smiled and started to get up.

"Whoa up there guys. I'm a slut and I can be pretty easy sometimes, but we have some drinking, dancing and pool playing to do before we get to the main event. And one other thing we need to get out of the way. I don't do gangbangs on car back seats and we can't go to my room at the sorority house so where are we going to play?"

"My apartment is two blocks away," said one of the guys.

"Outstanding. I drink margaritas so order me up a couple while I'm dancing. Who gets to dance with me first?"

It was my first foursome. I had done a threesome a time or three, but had never done four. We had gone to Wayne's apartment and I had sucked each of the guys hard and then I had taken them on one at a time. Half way through the third one (Tom) Mike had moved up to me so he could push his cock at my mouth and I opened up and swallowed him. While I was sucking him to get him up again Tom blew his load in my pussy and Wayne moved up to take his place and he asked me if I did anal.

"If you have lots of lube and go real slow I will."

He left and came back a minute later with a tube of KY Jelly, greased up his fingers and went to work on my butt. He spent several minutes on it and by then I had Mike hard again. I crawled up and settled down on his hard on and Wayne moved up behind me and began slowly working his cock into my butt hole. I was almost lying on Mike's chest and holding myself still as Wayne worked himself into me until he had all of his cock in me. He slowly started fucking me until he felt me start to push my ass back at him and then he and Mike went to work trying to establish a rhythm. It wasn't easy and we never did get to where I was happy with it. While I was being pushed and prodded between Mike and Wayne Tom presented his cock to my mouth and I took it in. The whole experience was not all that bad, but I didn't like it enough to ever try it again.

After we got the 'airtight' thing out of the way we settled in for a night of steady fucking and for two hours I had a cock in my pussy and a cock in my mouth. I was one very satisfied lady when I left Wayne's apartment.

"Another one?" the bartender said, pulling me out of my reverie.

"What?"

He pointed at my empty glass and said, "Another one?"

I was tempted. A fresh drink and the way I felt I would probably leave the bar stool and go after one of the guys looking at me. I wanted to, but I beat down the thought and got up to go home to my babies.

When I got home Stan wanted to know where I'd been.

"Out."

"Out where?"

"None of your fucking business."

"What? What did you just say to me?"

"I said NONE... OF... YOUR... FUCKING... BUSINESS!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You are what is wrong with me Stan. You know how much I love sex and how much I've waited for today and you all of a sudden unilaterally decide that my sex life is over? Well fuck you! If you can make important decisions like that without consulting me I can make unimportant decisions - like going out - without saying a god damned thing to you.

"Right now I'm too goddamned hot to sit down and discuss it with you, but since you have decided to make a major change I'm going to make a few. I'm going to wait a few days and allow myself to cool off before I hit you with them, but I can tell you right now that you are not going to like them any more than I'm liking your 'no sex' dictum. I'm sleeping in the spare bedroom. Good night."

I went into the spare bedroom and slammed the door. Not a good move it turns out. It woke up both babies and it took me an hour to get them back to sleep.

I lay there on the bed staring up at the ceiling and I knew what had happened. Two weeks before Alan was born Stan's old buddy George had moved back to town and had called Stan. George was a bible thumping Born Again asshole and he had talked Stan into going to church with him a couple of times. Stan started trying to get me to go to church with him and I refused. I had no use for organized religion. That fucking George and his fundamental religious beliefs had fucked up Stan's head.

I was feeding the babies the next morning when Stan came into the kitchen. He mumbled a good morning and I ignored him. The day was one of cleaning house and taking care of babies. It was a Wednesday and now that the doctor had cleared me it was time to get back to my gym schedule. My normal schedule was Monday, Wednesday and Friday from two till four and then run home to fix dinner for Stan. My mom, who only lived five blocks away came over and watched the kids for me on gym days.

My program was a simple one; fifteen minutes on the Stairmaster to get my heart rate up, forty-five minutes to an hour on the exercise machines and then the rest of the two hours doing laps in the pool. It took me almost five months to get my body back after Marsha and everyone told me that it would take me half again as long after a second baby, but I would do it. I was very happy with the way I looked when I was in shape and now, after what Stan pulled, I had even more reason to get my tight body back.

I had been on the Stairmaster for about five minutes when he came into the gym. I couldn't believe my eyes; it was Chad, my boyfriend when I met Stan. I raised my hand to wave at him and before I could holler out, "Hey Chad, over here!" I realized my mistake. He looked like Chad, same build, same wide shoulders and narrow waist, he even had the same shock of unruly blond hair, but it wasn't Chad - just a twenty something year old look alike. I watched him walk over to a machine and set up and damned if he didn't walk like Chad. As I watched him settle in and start his reps I thought back to the last time I had seen Chad.

It was the day after I'd met Stan and I was going to cut Chad loose. I didn't expect that it was going to be easy. I was going to take him from four months of anytime, anywhere, fuck like sex crazed bunnies to goodbye in the space of three hours. I decided that the way to do it was fuck his eyes out and leave him with no strength to argue, kiss him goodbye and leave.

Chad showed up at the sorority house to pick me up for our date and I told him that I really didn't feel like going to the movies and that I wanted to go to his apartment. I slid over next to him and started stroking his cock through his pants before he even pulled away from the curb. If it had been a little darker I would have pulled his cock out and gone down on him while he drove, but even as big a slut as I could be I wouldn't go stupid in broad daylight. I contented myself with rubbing him through his pants.

Once at his apartment I stripped and helped him undress and then I knelt down in front of him. He cupped my tits and pinched my nipples and I reached for his cock. I took it in my hand and brought it to my mouth. He groaned as I licked the head and then wrapped my lips around it. I ran my tongue up and down the length of him and after a few minutes of that I took my hands off him, crawled on the bed and told him to fuck me.

"Not yet baby girl, not yet," he said, and his mouth moved to my pussy.

I shivered as his tongue ran up and down my moist slit. His fingers parted me and his tongue went searching for my clit. One finger teased my ass as he sucked on my little man in the boat. I grabbed his head as I shook and moaned and had an orgasm.

"Now baby, now," I moaned, "I need it, I need you in me."

He moved up and I took his cock in my hand and guided it into me. I pushed my hips at him and he slid in. "Fuck me" I moaned, "Oh God, please fuck me" and he began stroking his cock into me.

It was lust, pure animal lust and that is how we treated it - we went at each other like animals. He was slamming into me and I was grinding up at him. My nails were clawing at his back and my heels were drumming on the backs of his legs. All too soon I felt my climax start to build and just as it rushed toward me he moaned, "Oh God" and I felt his sperm boil out of his cock and splash over my insides. I pulled his face to me and kissed him deeply as his cock lost its stiffness and he pulled out of me.

I slid down and took his cock in my mouth again. I gave him the best head I was capable of and when he was erect again I mounted him and shoved myself down hard on him and moaned as his length drove up into me. I rode him like there was no tomorrow and of course there wouldn't be for him, but I was determined that he would never forget me. I pushed myself hard until I felt an orgasm coming on and I rolled off him, spread my legs wide and pulled him on top of me.

"Fuck me!" I cried, "Fuck me hard" and I dug my nails in his ass cheeks and pulled him against me. He drove himself into me and fucked me hard and fast and I had a screaming orgasm. Seconds later Chad had his orgasm and he fell to the bed next to me breathing hard. I reached down and fondled his limp cock and licked his ear and then whispered in it that I wasn't done with him yet.

I got him up twice more before he couldn't answer the call anymore and he said:

"Wow babe, what got into you tonight?"

"I just wanted to make tonight special for you."

"Why? What's the special occasion?"

"I've met the man I'm going to marry."

The smile left his face and he looked at me for a moment before saying:

"And I'm guessing that it isn't me."

"Fraid not."

"Well I do have to admit that I like the way you kiss a guy off. If it doesn't work out give me a call."

I dressed, kissed him goodbye, and left. I caught a cab back to the sorority house and as I rode I was working on my plans for snaring Stan.

I had dinner ready for Stan when he got home that night. He came into the kitchen all smiles and came over to kiss me and I turned my face away from him. I ignored his attempts at conversation during dinner and busied myself with feeding my babies. After dinner was over and I'd washed and put away the dishes I took Marsha and Alan and retired to the spare bedroom and played with them until it was time to put them to bed. Once they were tucked in I grabbed a book and went back to the spare bedroom and read until it was time to turn out the light.

I didn't sleep much. All I thought about was Stan's arbitrarily cutting off our love life. How could he? What made him think he could do it - impose it on me - without even talking to me about it. It didn't have to be this way. He could have talked it over with me. It wouldn't have changed the way I felt about having no sex, but I would have had options. I could have passed on having my tubes tied, which would have left open the option of having more babies. Then I could have pressed Stan for one more child, a child we would never have because I would practice killer birth control, but we still would have been making love trying for a baby. The major problem here was that I was hard-headed and as much as I loved and wanted Stan there was no way I was going to go without sex for the rest of my life. There would be no "give" in that position.