Becoming A Slut Wife - Hetty

by Just Plain Bob

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, NonConsensual, Blackmail, Drunk/Drugged, Heterosexual, Cheating, Slow, .

Desc: Sex Story: Was it really blackmail?



Hetty had been a cock teaser for as long as I had known her and that had been since the third grade. As she grew too old to play 'doctor' and as her body blossomed she took to wearing short skirts, tight sweaters, low cut blouses and whatever else it took to titillate the boys. As a teen she dated a lot and a lot of guys had some pretty hot times with Hetty, but she always stopped short and send her dates home with a case of blue balls. You would think that with that reputation the boys would avoid her like the plague, but Hetty had that certain something that always kept them coming back.


In our senior year one of Hetty's girlfriends told her brother that Hetty had said that she planned to give up her virginity on the night of the Senior Prom. The word got out and the competition started to see who would be her date. The long list of her suitors included almost all of the most popular guys in school (much to the annoyance of their regular girlfriends) and I stood off to the side and watched to see whom she would pick. Why was I watching and not trying to be the lucky guy? Well, I was just one of the many run of the mill guys who were always part of the background in school. I was a so-so student, wasn't good enough to be first string in any of the sports I went out for, didn't belong to any of the clubs or take part in any after school activities. I was the guy that everybody recognized and nodded hello to, but whose name they couldn't remember. Also I had pretty low self-esteem and I couldn't see that I had a chance against all the popular guys.

It was two weeks from prom night and Hetty still hadn't made a choice. I was sitting outside on the school steps at lunchtime when Hetty walked up and sat down beside me.

"Hi."

"Hi yourself. What's up?"

"You going to the prom?"

"Probably."

"Who is your date?"

"Don't know. Haven't asked anyone yet."

"Does that mean I might have a chance?"

"What?"

"Does that mean that I might have a chance that you will ask me."

I turned and stared at her. Here was Hetty basically asking me to be her prom date and if the rumors were true she was also asking me to take her cherry. I was incredulous, but eventually I managed to get my shit together and find my voice, "Would you like to go to the prom with me?"

"I thought you would never ask. Yes I would."

All of a sudden I became the most looked at guy at school. Girls were looking at me and whispering among themselves and guys were looking at me with "What's so special about him" looks on their faces. The prom came and things were great right up to the time I tried to put the moves on Hetty. We had been making out pretty hot and heavy and I had gotten her bra off and had my hands on her tits and she had not resisted one bit. I unzipped myself and took out my cock and tried to put Hetty's hand on it and she shot me down.

"I'm sorry Brian. I know what you were expecting, but it isn't going to happen. I don't know where that rumor came from, but it isn't true. I'm not giving up my virginity until I get married and I'm not getting married until I finish college. I picked you to be my date for the prom because I know you are a nice guy and will take no for an answer."

To say I was crushed would be an understatement. Here I had thought that I was something special when all it was was that I was a nice guy and could be counted to take a no and live with it.


I was a little bitter over being used by Hetty so I did some not so nice things where she was concerned. Guys I knew would ask me how it was taking Hetty's cherry and I would just smile and say, "Hey, a gentleman doesn't talk about things like that."

I left everyone who talked to me with the impression that even though I wasn't going to talk about it I'd had a great time. Word got back to Hetty and she told a few of her friends that it was bullshit and when it came back around to me that she had denied it I just smiled and said, "A gentleman never calls a lady a liar."

The more Hetty protested her innocence and denied that anything had happened the more I smiled and shrugged my shoulders, "If the lady says it isn't true then it must not be true. Hetty wouldn't lie, now would she?"


The incident did spark some interest in me by the other girls at school and until I graduated I never lacked for a date on the weekends and I had a pretty impressive list of conquests to my credit before I went off to college. Hetty and I both went off to college - different ones - and I did not see her again until two months after I had graduated with my BS in Business Management. We ran into each other while out beating the bushes looking for jobs. We had lunch together several times, something clicked and we started dating.

Hetty was still a tease. When she found a job she dressed to tease at work. When we went out she dressed to attract attention and she necked with me to the point of explosion, but whenever I tried to go the distance she would push me away, "You know the rule Brian. Nothing until I get married." I finally got around to proposing, she accepted and we got married.

Hetty was indeed a virgin when we got married and went to bed for the first time, but she was determined to make up for lost time. Hetty wanted to try everything she had ever heard or read about and she wanted to try it often. I had somewhat expected that sex as newly weds would be frequent and intense, but I wasn't prepared for Hetty's newfound sexual appetite. It was every night, twice and sometimes three times and then again in the morning before getting up. Hetty was as close to being a nymphomaniac as you could get and it was all I could do to keep up. There was one thing that marriage didn't change - Hetty was still a tease.

When she went to work, when we went out or when we had company over Hetty dressed to tease. She loved to bend over and 'accidentally' give guys a look down her blouse or up her skirt. If she danced with someone he could count on Hetty being plastered to him. She never stopped anybody from stealing a kiss or copping a feel or thinking he could get her in the sack - at least not until the very last minute.

At first her behavior pissed me off. It was one thing when she was single, but something else now that she was a married woman. We had some pretty nasty fights there for a while when I'd get upset over her letting some guy paw her, but she would always shrug it off with, "So what baby? All it does is get me hotter than hell and then you get to cool me down."

"Yeah" I said, "Right up until the time you do it with the wrong guy and he doesn't take no for an answer."

"Don't you worry baby, I can handle myself."


Over the years I mellowed out and just let her do her thing without fussing over it, but in retrospect I probably should have put my foot down and stopped it. Everybody has a breaking point and sooner or later Hetty was going to take things just one step too far.

Although neither Hetty nor I knew it at the time her company picnic was the last straw for several of the men she worked with. Hetty attended wearing a skimpy halter-top without a bra and a pair of "Daisy Duke" shorts and I'm sure that there wasn't a soft dick at the park. Since it was her company picnic I was the designated driver and that freed Hetty up to hit the beer keg without worries. I'm not much of a games person, but when Hetty gets a snootfull she gets real playful. All of the single guys (and a few of the married ones) worked at getting her to be their partner in various events like the wheel borrow race, the three legged race and the balloon race. The wheel barrow race was the first event that Hetty took part in and halfway through the race her left tit fell out of her halter top as she was trying to run on her hands. She told her partner not to stop and she finished the race with the tit hanging down and swaying. She got more than a few nasty looks from the wives and mothers there, but I can tell you that none of the men (me excepted) seemed to mind in the least bit.

Next was the three-legged race. There was a small hill leading down to the finish line and Hetty and her partner tripped coming down it and they ended up rolling down the hill with their arms wrapped around each other. They didn't break apart as soon as they stopped rolling and from where I was standing I could see that they were kissing and the guy was humping Hetty's leg. It only lasted a few seconds, but it did happen.

In the balloon race two people put a water filled balloon between them, chest to chest or belly to belly, and raced from the start line to the finished line without breaking or dropping the balloon. Hetty and her partner didn't get fifteen feet from the start line before their balloon broke soaking Hetty's halter-top, which had the same effect as if she had been in a wet tee shirt contest. Hetty didn't try to dry off or to go to the car and get another top - she just walked around and let the men look at her tits through the wet halter-top.

About an hour before the picnic was over, just as it was turning dark, I saw Hetty and a man walk off to a stand of trees. The trees blocked whatever was going on, but ten minutes passed by before Hetty came out from behind the trees alone. A few minutes later the guy came into view walking very gingerly - the same way I walked the last time I was kicked in the balls. On the way home I asked Hetty what had happened, "He got fresh and I had to knee him in the balls to turn him off."

"What were you doing going behind the trees with him in the first place?"

"Nothing. We were just walking and talking."

Yeah, right I thought. Walking, talking, leading him on and teasing him.

We didn't know it at the time but Hetty had finally gone too far and with the wrong guy.


It was the night of her company Christmas party and Hetty was going to it alone. I had fallen down on a patch of ice and twisted my ankle rather badly. To make matters worse I seemed to be coming down with the flu. I wasn't really keen on the idea of her going without me, but she pooh-poohed my concern, "I'm a big girl now Brian. I can look out for myself."

I was lying on the bed watching her put on her nylons and garter belt and then slipping into a simple black mini cocktail dress. She finished off the outfit with a single strand of pearls and then she stepped into a pair of black CFMs with four-inch heels. She did a full turn in front of me and asked, "How do I look?" Before I could answer she giggled and said, "I can see that you like" and sure enough my cock was standing straight up.

"Poor baby, I can't leave you like that" and she knelt next to the bed and gave me a blow job. Hetty has a magic mouth and it didn't take her long to get me off. She surprised me when I came by not swallowing like she usually did. Instead she swished it around in her mouth like mouthwash before swallowing. She saw my curious look and giggled, "I might want to let a few guys kiss me under the mistletoe. Think they'll notice the taste?"

Hetty left and I swallowed a bunch of medicine and went to sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night needing to go to the bathroom. The clock said 3:27 and Hetty wasn't in bed with me. I took my whiz and then walked through the house to see if Hetty was home - she wasn't. I called the hotel where the party had been held and was told that the last of the partygoers had gone and only the cleaning crew was in the ballroom. I was a little worried, but I managed to talk myself into waiting a while longer before getting in a panic. There were some possible reasons for her not being home. She could have stopped for an early breakfast like we used to do when we closed down the bars. They may have been under a deadline to get out of the ballroom and had taken the party somewhere else. I took another dose of Ny-Quill and fell back asleep.

The phone woke me up at 7:15 and it was Hetty. "Did I wake you?"

I mumbled that she had.

"I'm sorry honey. I didn't call you last night because I didn't want to wake you up, but I thought you would be up by now and I didn't want you to worry because I'm not there. I had way too much to drink last night and the boss's wife took my keys away from me and made me check into a room. I'm still a little woozy so I'm going to take a shower and have some breakfast before I head home. Will you be okay until I get there?"

I assured her that I could hang on until she could get home.

Things changed after that night, but I was so busy wrapped up in my own problems at work that I didn't notice for a couple of weeks. Hetty started working late two and three nights a week. On some mornings she left for work two hours earlier than she had been and three times she told me she had to work Saturdays to help with an inventory. It was the last, the inventory, that finally got my attention. I have been involved in doing inventories and you do not do them one day a week for three weeks. You gear up to do them and then you do them all at one time even if it takes you two or three days. Then I began to get the feeling that she was nervous whenever she came home from working late. Our sex life changed and began to drop in frequency, although not in intensity, and I began to wonder what was wrong. It hadn't occurred to me that these were some of the signs that indicated the possibility of an unfaithful wife. That is it didn't occur to me until I picked up a pair of cum soaked panties from the bathroom floor.

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