Choices - Cheating Wife Amy

by Stultus

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Drunk/Drugged, Lesbian, Cheating, Slut Wife, Gang Bang, Group Sex, Orgy, Interracial, White Couple, Black Male, White Male, White Female, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: A selfish and scheming wife Amy thinks she has the perfect plan to get her lucrative divorce and then live a life of pampered luxury. Life is indeed full of choices. My first (and poorest) SOL story intended as a non-serious pastiche of a 'cheating wife' story

Thanks to my editor Gandolf4217 for his exceptionally careful job, and whose work much improved this minor work!

We had worked out the plan together to every detail and it was flawlessly in its simplicity. With any luck at all tonight, I would finally be able to catch my darling husband of over 8 years in one of his little lies and expose him for the cheat I knew him to be. Dave Stewart, the Downstream Marketing and Sales VP had been coming on to me all week and telling me all about Michael's little lies, the constant little "emergency trips" fix this or that production problem somewhere. Lies, all of it. I knew he was banging his new hot young secretary, some niece of one of the Company Division Presidents of O'Malley Oil that had been thrust onto him, Mike had said. Hah! I knew just what kind of "thrusting" they were really up to.

I hadn't been able to prove anything back at home, and the worthless window peeper PI that I had hired kept demanding more money than I wanted to spend to produce his worthless little reports of nothingness. I bet Mike found out about him and paid him off, but that would be a real change for my cheap ass husband. He kept me on such a tight financial leash that it was nearly impossible for me to keep my head held high in society, let alone be one of its fashion leaders. I know I'm a laughing stock because my Jag is now nearly 3 years old and I only get two shopping trips a year to the designer shops in New York. Cheap bastard! There was also Mike's puerile insistence that I stop "partying" and start to consider "having a family"! The nerve! Ruining my perfect figure to push out his brats! I don't think so! But now he's going to get his, thanks to Dave.

We had flown down to Houston from our back-ass-water town in West Virginia where Mike was head of some stupid R&D research group that was always finding new ways to get more oil out the ground from old tapped out wells. Oh, that he would find a way to pump more money into my purse! This trip was for a big annual corporate pow-wow held at the same time as a big annual international oil exploration trade show. "Two birds with one stone" the bosses said. Yeah, right. Banging two different "birds" all right, his secretary made the trip with us and had the unmitigated gall to have the seat right in front of me for the entire flight. I guess it could have been worse; she could have been seated in back of me and smirking at me behind my back the entire flight. Her constant nonsense chattering about "groundwater insertions into the wellhead" I was sure was just one of their sex talk codes. Imagine their nerve, flaunting their sordid affair in front of everyone, but everyone knows that redheads are utterly shameless anyway, so I guess it isn't entirely her fault, she just can't help being ill-bred.

It was to my great surprise to discover after arrival that Mike's corporate office did contain at least one proper gentleman, Dave Stewart. Dave was tall, dark, very handsome, and well educated - and like me, a graduate of the University of South Carolina, but from 5 years before my time. I could tell immediately that he was a man of proper breeding and character, and he drove a 'proper' car suitable for taking a lady out in style, a bright red Porsche convertible, not a nasty 6 six year old Toyota sedan like Mike drove back home.

As Mike was soon to be sequestered into a non-stop series of never ending corporate meetings for the next week, Dave took it upon himself to make me welcome and "entertain" me for the next few days until his own services would be needed at the trade show, and entertain me he did! He showed me all of the sights, and especially made a point of taking me to where the very best designer shops could be found. We had our luncheons and dinners at quite 'suitable' places and 'allowed' him to take me to tres' fashionable nightspots for good champagne and dancing, never wasting an opportunity to compliment me on my appearance. Sensing that my gentleman host was quite taken with me, I told him of all of my woes and pumped him for every bit of corporate gossip and information that I could get and Dave, horrified at the ill-treatment that a "lady of obvious quality" had suffered at the hands of her uncouth and obviously inconsiderate husband, could not have made himself more helpful to me and seemed eager of be of any assistance to me.

My fears were well grounded, it seems, and rumors among the Marketing and Sales staff suggested that my husband and his hussy lover would be making regular use of the company hospitality suite during the trade show, which was due to start the next day. Also there were good rumors that Mike was about to receive a big promotion with a substantial pay raise and a very fat bonus! The timing seemed prefect! With Dave assisting me in getting a little evidence, and swearing he would be standing by my side throughout the entire affair (and afterwards), I could take Mike to the cleaners in the divorce trial and have plenty to set myself up with here in style (and perhaps with Dave afterwards), Houston didn't seem to be nearly the barbaric cow- town that I thought it would be, and that fat bonus should pay my new Country Club lifetime membership fees quite nicely!

Dave deserved a nice little reward for his efforts, but like a lady I teased him along but allowed him eventually a few kisses for his reward, hinted that my 'favors' would be much more forthcoming after Mike was trapped and my lucrative divorce proceedings started. Mother always said that men were "filthy minded pigs" (even alas the ones of supposed 'good breeding') and warned me often that even a 'good wife' never lets her husband see her naked, and that "relations" should be strictly rationed, and at most only once a month. Sage advice indeed, and it looked like delightful Dave might need a little managing later on, just like Mike did. Well, like Mike, he will soon learn who rules the roost!

Dave concocted a simple but very effective plan for me; I would meet him at the huge hotel bar where the trade show was occurring just before Noon. He would get me inside the show and get me access to all of the private events, included the 'infamous' party afterwards at the hospitality suite where Mike was "certain to be cavorting with his mistress". Most excellent! I permitted Dave a final goodbye kiss in the car in front of mine and Mike's hotel, and pretended not to notice when Dave briefly caressed and squeezed my right breast before I took my leave for the night. Entering our hotel room, I was not surprised to see my husband reading his trade journals in his bed (he knows how much I hate that, and this one of the many reasons I make him sleep in a separate bed!) With my victory so close at hand, I decided to forgo this evenings "fight" (as Mike would call it, I prefer the term "gentle corrections" of his seeming endless faults), and put the light out immediately.

Mike left early as usual in the morning without waking me, and he certainly knew better than to do so anyway (a lady requires her beauty sleep!) and getting up around 10AM I began to dress for my day of triumph, and met Dave downstairs at the bar precisely at 11:45 - I love it when a man is punctual!

Dave had a startling slight change of plans, however. One of the models ("booth babes" is their actual term) had to cancel at the last moment and he needed another 'very attractive woman' just to stand in one of the companies booths (for a new variety of motor oil, ick), smile and pass out flyers. This would offer the "perfect opportunity", Dave insisted, of getting complete 100% access to everything and everywhere at the trade show. I had some severe reservations, but allowed Dave to take me "backstage" to a nearby private room the Marketing and Sales staff was using as a break and preparation area. The area was well stocked with wine and liquor also, and I immediately fixed myself a few good morning glasses of champagne.

When I saw the dress I was to wear (if it fact that skimpy amount of material was enough to constitute a dress) I began to refuse to do this part of the plan entirely. "There had to be another way!" But Dave was gently assistive and told me that this was really the "only way", and at long last he reached into his pocket and handed me a small glass vial and suggest that I "take a moment in the ladies room to get myself composed", and seeing the contents of the vial, I did so at once.

It was cocaine, and I hadn't been able to 'indulge' in years, do you know how expensive and hard to find the stuff is in West Virginia? Mike had once found my pitiful little stash a few years after we were married, and threatened immediate divorce if I did not quit, especially, he reminded me "with my history". I couldn't afford for him to divorce me then, and I did have to promise to behave and resolved to hide my usage better. Cocaine and fine champagne are the only two acceptable drugs at the top of society and a necessary accessory to establish one's place as being among the privileged rich, and being above their lesser rivals.

"History" indeed. Ok, I admit that I enjoyed using it while at University perhaps 'just a bit too much' and I had quite the reputation at my elite Sorority (Sigma Lamda Tau, aka "Slut House") as being the wildest party girl on campus, until someone spilled the beans to Daddy and he cut my allowance to virtually nothing and threatened to pull me from school. After graduation I was married off indecently fast to a rising young Petrochemical Engineer, my now husband Mike, in an effort to keep me out of further trouble.

There was enough in the vial for two sturdy lines, and I returned to Dave much refreshed. Another Mimosa later, wearing my "costume" and a different hair color wig (platinum blonde - Dave had thought of everything), I was on my way to the trade show floor and my booth, fortified (if a bit underdressed) and ready to stalk my prey. Mike would never recognize me in this skimpy outfit and Dave promising to be nearby with his camera ready at hand to take any "interesting pictures" later.

I met my other "booth babe", a young air-head faux-blonde named "Trixie" who was all breasts and legs, and was obviously used to showing off both of these off to utter strangers at the drop of a dollar bill. Her tastes and morals were admittedly low, but she did make for agreeable light conversation as the trade show began and we passed out our pamphlets and promotional goodies to the throngs that filled every isle now, and we were very busy for quite some time.

Dave, the thoughtful considerate gentleman he was, regularly visited and brought us some champagne glasses and offered regular refills, and by mid afternoon I was feeling quite pleasant indeed when he returned to my booth bearing refills for us and asking if I wished to take a short break, which I happily accepted. We returned to the break room, which was empty at the time except for us, and he again refreshed my drink and offered me another small cocaine vial.

"I have plenty more, snort up!" He offered, and hinted that he had plenty more for later. Where had this wonderful man been my whole life! I didn't even bother to go to the ladies room and I inhaled the lines right there on a nearby table. Dave dabbed my nose clean, and gave me a hug and a kiss, that soon turned unusually passionate, and his hands were soon inside my skimpy dress and openly fondling my bare breasts. I stopped him when he began to kiss my breasts and nipples and I giggled for him to "wait for later on", and like the pure Southern gentleman he was, he stopped at once. Maybe his future training wasn't going to be so difficult after all. After a last refill of my drink, I returned to my booth and actually began to enjoy my "work" and flirted and posed for my many admirers. Of course my champagne glass never stayed empty for long, and by 5PM my laughing became louder and I was perhaps just a wee bit unsteady on my feet, and I welcomed another trip to the break room with Dave

Offering me another small vial, which I happily accepted and inhaled, Dave and I resumed some passionate necking and I did not immediately object when Dave undid my dress top exposing my bare breasts to his gaze. I didn't normally even let my husband see them or any other part of me nude, and never ever during daylight hours, but I felt warm and glowing in his arms as he kissed my neck, shoulders, breasts and my now unusually sensitive nipples which I let him suckle on for some time until I tripped over some irregularity in the carpet and fell to my knees in front of him. Without knowing how or why it happened, within moments Dave's trousers were unzipped and his large cock was now swelling to full attention in my mouth.

I hadn't sucked any cock (especially my husband's) since my "Slut House" days at University! It's a nasty and unhygienic thing that is only barely tolerable when done by Sorority girls at school, and only to hook a proper husband, and never EVER done by a 'proper respectable woman" there afterwards. Like the considerate man he was, Dave soon warned me that he was about to ejaculate, and at the last moment I withdrew him from my mouth and he shot his discharge all over my neck and breasts.

Pulling me unsteadily to my feet, my gallant gave me a last kiss and refastened my dress top before refreshed my drink and escorting me back to the booth. I didn't realize until Trixie mentioned it with a giggle, that Dave's copious discharge was still wet on my neck and breasts, with my dress was now wet and stained, and according to the bubblehead, partially also now see-through - to the delight of passersby. I discretely cleaned myself the best I could, but at the moment I could do nothing about my sticky breasts until after the trade show closed for the day at 6PM. So for another hour I endured the not subtle hints from passing men that they would like my business card, and "what are your normal rates sweetheart?" It was not a minute too soon when Dave came and got me and we returned to the break room to stay for awhile.

This time we were not alone, and there were 3-4 other Sales and Marketing folks having a few drinks and chatting with Trixie, who being a shameless slut and paid courtesan, was lapping up their attentions. Dave offered me a large glass of champagne which I inhaled nearly in one gulp, it had been a long hard day and there was still no sign of my husband and his whore, but they would probably be at the Cocktail Party at 7PM, so we had some time to rest and wait. Dave handed me a fresh vial of coke, and I enjoyed it immediately, the other folks in the room taking no heed or especial notice of me, and I then remembered my sticky breasts I started to wobble over to the ladies room to clean them when Dave caught me just as I was about to stumble on the carpet again and set me down in a chair and I gratefully shut my eyes for a moment and reopened them to find that Dave had once again undone my dress top and was gently washing my neck and breasts with a warm moist towel.

A part of me was shocked that my breasts were now on display to a number of strange men and when I opened my eyes to arise and redress I saw that the others were paying little heed to me. Trixie's huge bovine breasts were also on display each being kissed by a man with a third man kissing her slutty mouth. I laughed at the sight of that - only utterly shameless whores of the lowest respectability cavorted and shared their charms with multiple men! I got comfortable in my chair (a large oversized leather one) and sipped my drink as my considerate gentleman made sure that I was spotlessly clean.

Soon I noticed that he was moving his attentions to my upper thighs. "A little stickiness down here too, you want me to clean all of it, everywhere, I'm sure", he said, and I agreed. Soon my dress was pulled up to my waist (it was scandalously short to begin with) and my legs were spread giving him room to wash where needed. I barely even noticed when he pulled my panties down to my high-heeled ankles and his warm towel caressed my pubic mount and lips. It felt so delightful! I cooed with please and spread wider still better receive his attentions. Soon I felt his soft moist towel replaced by a tongue, but that felt even better and I'm sure did a better job of cleaning me. He certainly was an attentive and most thorough gallant!

Another vial was put into my hand, which I immediately accepted and used. My pleasure in my loins grew and my lusts became inflamed, as his tongue began to dance on my clitoris.

"Tell me that you want your tits caressed and nipples pinched" he whispered, and Oh! I did want them fondled, and soon I felt his hands caressing me there.

"Tell me that you want my cock in your mouth again, and want to be my sweet little cocksucker". This I wanted also, and I began to beg and plead for his cock, and soon I was rewarded as my head was moved to one side and a cock pressed to my waiting and eager lips. I sucked like a woman possessed and all too soon it exploded into my mouth and I drank every drop of its precious load, and without missing a stroke began to suck the cock back into hardness. My own release was now immanent, and building to what seemed would be the strongest orgasm of my life.

"Beg for me to fuck you now" he hissed at me, his tongue pausing just for a moment off of my clit just as my orgasm was ready to start. I did beg, and I screamed for him to fuck me, and then for the first time since my marriage, I felt a cock other than my pitiful husbands enter into me. It was heavenly, and within a few deep thrusts my long overdue release began, and I screamed my pleasure throughout the room, or the best I could manage with a cock still in my mouth.

Opening my eyes afterwards, I was shocked to find that I was not alone with my lover, who was fucking me as hard as he could and just about to have his own release into my pulsating and sopping wet cunt. The cock I had been sucking was not Dave's! Nor were the two hands and mouth that were making love to my breasts! Dave finished his ejaculation into my cunt and exchanged places with the man whose cock I had been sucking. Dave directed me to clean off his cock and get him hard again, and seemingly in a daze, I did so, with a new large and hard cock now fucking my dripping cunt.

Dave offered another small glass vial of cocaine to me and asked me if I wanted it, and would "be a good obedient girl to earn it". I gasped my eagerness and willingness to obey any instruction that he gave to me and the party now began in earnest. There seemed to be a never-ending line of cocks waiting to use me, and my mouth and cunt were always in simultaneous usage. All of them, upon Dave's insistent direction, spewed upon ejaculation their cum across my face, hair and tits and there seemed to be a river of semen running down my legs. I was not the only source of entertainment for the men, the whore Trixie was being well fucked herself on the chair next to me.

All too soon, Dave announced that it was time to leave for the cocktail party, but we had just time for one last thing. Trixie and I were hastily redressed (but without our panties) and lead to a table and each of us were directed to lean over onto it, with our tits pressed flat against the table and our lips touching. I was not a stranger to the kiss of another woman, and all sorts of Sapphotic love activities were encouraged at my Sorority and openly practiced. Our hungry tongues met and we kissed deeply as I felt Dave's cock enter my tight ass to my surprise. My ass was not a virgin to sodomy (also well practiced by my Sorority sisters and our many rich stud and jock lovers), but I had never allowed my husband to use it. Trixie kissed me hard and kept me in position while we were both ass fucked until eventually the men reached their final climaxes and filled our bowels with their hot spunk. I had forgotten how much I had enjoyed this, and I was still aglow with pleasure when our gentlemen escorted us ladies to the cocktail party.

If anyone mentioned that my face and hair were still covered with sticky cum, and that drying splooge had pasted my thin skimpy dress completely to my body, or that a seeming endless river of semen was now running down the sides of my thighs obvious to everyone, no one discussed it - at least to me. For now I was too happy to care! I also never noticed that Dave had kept my panties and had tucked them into handkerchief pocket of his suit jacket, displaying them for all to see.

With a flute of champagne constantly in my hand, I made an unsteady tour of the cocktail lounge and made a great many new admirers, many of whom Dave would whisper to afterwards and the word "party upstairs" was frequently heard. I noticed that a few men and many women seemed upset about me and my entourage of admirers, but I attributed this to mere jealousy and paid them no mind whatsoever. All too soon the Cocktail Party was over, but now, as David whispered to me, "The real fun is about to get started". With my train of gallants at my side, and after one last drink refill, I was half-carried upstairs to the top floor suites of the hotel and into our hospitality suite. Trixie and I and got comfortable on a large spacious sofa, kicked our shoes off, and alternated sips of our drinks and kisses with each other.

Dave presented a large glass vial of "South American Marching Power", and spread out many lines for me on the glass coffee table (Trixie declined - all the more for me!). Thus fortified, the party began in earnest!

Soon stripped naked, Trixie and I stripped down and soon we were on the main king-sized bed locked in a 69 licking each others clits while each of our cunts was being fucked at the other end. There must have been 20-30 naked or undressing men in the suite each waiting for their turn with us. Eventually, to quicken the pace, Trixie and I were separated unto different ends of the bed and each of us soon became fully penetrated by three men, with additional men caressing and fondling our tits and asses. I had to be carried to the bathroom once, as my legs had gotten too wobbly to walk, but refreshed (and with a couple more toots) I was ready for more action. I had not had this much fun since University, and began wondering why I'd been missing out on so much fun lately! I made a mental note to myself that being gangbanged was in fact very medicinal, and to enjoy one regularly once I got back home (and with a contact from Dave for his most excellent coke provider).

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