My wife is the sweetest, most likeable woman in the world. She teaches Sunday school, teaches bible classes two nights a week, volunteers to work for every worthwhile charity in town and the strongest cuss word I've ever heard her utter is 'darn'. She is a great mother to our kids and has been a fabulous wife for me and I'm not kidding when I say that Marlene has absolutely no faults as a person. But not every one sees her the same way I do. You see, Marlene has a problem - she looks like a slut.

It's really not her fault and outside of never leaving the inside of our house there doesn't seem to be anything she can do about it. It doesn't matter how she wears her hair, what style of clothes or make up she wears she still looks like and gives off the aura of a slut. She looked like a slut in her wedding dress, she looked like a slut in her maternity clothes, and when her father died and she went to his funeral in basic black and wearing a veil she still looked like a slut.

In all honesty the slutty look is one of the reasons that I started dating Marlene. I thought she was a slut and I was going to get an easy piece of ass, but I was soon disabused of that notion in the form of a ringing slap across my face on our second date. It only took the two dates to show me what kind of person that she really was and by then I was hooked - hooked on and fascinated by the contrast between the person she was and the person she looked like. The slutty look is a major turn on for me and fortunately Marlene is an absolute slut in our bed. She loves sex and will anything at least once to see if it rings our chimes. Anal, oral, mild domination, she even tried (and absolutely did not like) watersports once just to see what it would be like. But she is only slutty when she is in our bedroom with me.

Unfortunately her slutty look is a major turn on for almost all the other guys too. She is constantly being hit on and it is something that I have learned to live with. I used to get all bent out of shape when guys put the move on her and many are the times when she stopped me from going after some guy:

"Honestly dear, you have no need to act like that. I am perfectly capable of handling these situations on my own."

Eventually I stopped worrying about her and that proved to be a very big mistake.

It was a Christmas party at the home of Ron and Betty; a couple we were good friends with. We knew about half the people there, but the other half were friends of theirs that we had never met. We circulated and met new people, visited with old friends and in general had a good time. About an hour into the party Marlene went into the kitchen to help Betty with something and Ron and I started talking football with two other guys. About an hour or so later I went looking for Marlene, but I couldn't find her anywhere. I asked Betty if she'd seen her and Betty looked away from me and with a strange look on her face said she hadn't seen Marlene for quite a bit.

I kept looking and about fifteen minutes later Ron came up to me and said:

"What's the matter? You look like you lost something."

I told him I couldn't find Marlene and I asked him if he'd seen her. He got a look on his face that I could only classify as 'guilty' and said he hadn't seen her and then he hurried away to talk to someone else. Another half an hour went by and still no Marlene so I went to Betty and told her I needed to use the phone.

"Marlene is gone and that is not at all like her. I'm going to call the police."

Alarm came over Betty's face and she said, "No! Please don't do that. Please, it will only cause trouble."

I looked at her, "You had better explain that" I said.

Betty's face showed that she was worried and then she said, "Marlene is upstairs in the master bedroom."

I was silent for a moment and the I asked, "Why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

Betty looked down at the floor and said in a voice that was almost a whisper, "She's not alone."

I looked at her like she was crazy, "What are you trying to say?"

She said, "I'm sorry. I like Marlene a lot, but I couldn't help it. I had to keep quiet for Ron's sake."

And then the story came out. Ron's boss Harry was at the party and he took one look at Marlene and said, "Anybody that looks that slutty has got to be one hell of a great piece of ass. Before the nights over I'm going to nail her."

Ron tried to tell Harry that Marlene wasn't that way, but his boss said, "Before the night is over she will be." Ron was afraid to buck his boss because it could have cost him his job so when he saw Harry do something to Marlene's drink Ron had pretended that he had seen nothing and turned his back and walked away. And when his boss had maneuvered Marlene upstairs Ron had been talking to me to keep my back turned to the stairs.

"He's been up there with her for over an hour and a half?"

Again Betty looked down at the floor, "He and a few others."

I turned from her and headed for the stairs and by the time I got to the top of the stairs Betty was right behind me. She grabbed my arm:

"Please don't make a scene. Ron needs this job. He will never find another one like it that pays this well. It's too late to do anything about it now. Leave it be, please? I'll do anything you want. You can fuck me, I'll suck your cock, you can fuck my ass, you can have me as much and as often as you like, but please don't make a scene."

I pulled away from her and walked to the master bedroom and opened the door and then froze in my tracks. It had been my intention to go into the room kicking ass and taking names. I knew that I'd come out the loser if there were more that two in the room with her, but damn it, it was my wife in there! But when the door opened the scene that met my eyes changed all that. Marlene was naked and on her hands and knees. Her face was in the lap of the man sitting on the bed and his hands were on her head as it bobbed up and down on his cock. I couldn't tell whether his hands were resting on her head or if he was moving her head up and down. Behind her another man was sliding his cock into her and again I couldn't tell if she was pushing her ass back at the man or whether his hands on her hips doing it.