She was a slut when I married her. All the signs were there; I was just too lost in love (or lust) to have paid any attention. Well, I know now, oh boy do I know now!
I met Vonda at the public library. She was a volunteer worker and donated her time two or three days a week. Sometimes she worked the checkout counter, sometimes she worked in the back cataloging, but usually I saw her stocking the shelves with new or returned books. I was in the library on the average of twice a week and I had noticed her; hell, what wasn't to notice - long hair down to her waist, beautiful face and tits to die for. She was very easy on the eyes and I began to look for her on my visits. I doubt very much that I would have ever spoken to her, but for some disarranged clothing. I was browsing the shelves one-day while she was restocking books. She was bending over putting books on the lower shelf and her top had pulled up exposing part of a tattoo that was on her lower back. "That's not fair," I said to her and she looked around, "Are you speaking to me?"
I said yes and pointed at her back, "Your top rode up when you bent over and I don't think it's fair that I only get to see part of the tattoo."
She laughed and said, "No one gets to see the tattoo unless they are willing to pay the price."
"And that would be?"
"At the bare minimum dinner and dancing."
"Okay, I'm willing to pay it. When?"
"Tonight works for me. I get off in an hour."
I was using the library's computers to surf the net when she came up to me and told me she was ready to go, "Follow me home so I can drop off my car. On the way you think about where you want to go for dinner, I already know where I want to go dancing."
I liked her 'no nonsense' attitude and thought that she just might be a fun date. When she'd parked her car and got in mine I asked her where we were going dancing, "It might matter as to what kind of food we eat."
"How are you on country western?"
"Depends. Two-step, shaddish, electric slide and tush-push I can handle, but if it's western swing you want I'm strictly a spectator."
She grinned and said, "I can live with that."
As I pulled out of the parking lot at her apartments I said, "For country western I recommend Mexican, good enough?"
She laughed, "Where have you been sweetie? I've been looking for you for years."
It was two in the morning when I pulled into the parking lot at her apartments. That was both good and bad. Good because I'd had a great time and the night had flown by, but bad because it was a Tuesday night and I had to go to work in about four and a half-hours. I pulled into a slot in front of her unit, left the car running and got out and went around to open her door for her.
"What are you doing?" she asked. I told her I would walk her to her door and then I had to get going.
"Oh no" she said, "A deals a deal" and she reached over and took my key from the ignition. "You did the dinner and dancing and now I have to do my part."
She led me into her apartment, told me to have a seat on the couch and told me she would be back in a minute. Two minutes later she walked back into the room naked as the day she was born and as she walked toward me I saw that she had a pierced navel, she had studs through each of her nipples and that she had a ring through a hole pierced through one of her pussy lips. She also had about five tattoos that I could see and I hadn't even seen the back of her yet. She had a butterfly on the inside of her left breast, a heart just above her pubic area and on the band through the center of the heart, where a name usually goes, it said "All yours." There was what I can only call scroll work on both of her ankles and on her left arm. She stopped in front of me and turned around and the tattoo on her back was an American eagle. What I had seen in the library was part of the wing spread. With her back to me she said, "You've seen all my secrets baby except one" and she bent at the waist and pulled her ass cheeks apart. On the inside of the left butt cheek were the words "Promised Land" and a small arrow that could have been pointing either at her pussy or her asshole. She stood up and spun around, "You like?"
I was sitting there speechless and she said, "I was hoping for a better response baby."
I was an hour late for work that morning and hadn't gotten a minutes rest that night. Vonda was a sex maniac and once she got me going she wouldn't let me stop. She sucked my cock and had me eat her pussy. She had me fuck her and then we went sixty-nine. Next she had me fuck her in her ass and then she washed my cock, sucked me hard again and then we fucked some more. As I staggered out her door at seven in the morning she kissed me goodbye and said, "I'll be home by seven tonight, okay?"
I was at her place every night for the rest of the week and all of the weekend and all we did was fuck. On Monday we went and got our blood tests and on Friday we were married in a civil ceremony. In between Sunday and our wedding we spent every hour that we weren't working together and almost all that time was spent in bed in some form of sexual activity. For our honeymoon we went, where else, to bed and never left it except to eat and go to the bathroom. The last two days before we had to go back to work we moved Vonda out of her one bedroom apartment and into my two bedroom unit.
My apartment was on the second floor and overlooked the swimming pool and on Vonda's third day there she was sitting on the balcony and I heard her say "Oh my." I went out on the balcony and asked her what was up. She pointed at a guy lying on a blanket, "I think he is."
"He is what" I asked. "I think he is up. Look at that lump in his bathing suit. He's cute, I wonder if he's a good fuck?" She giggled, "How about it baby, want me to find out?"
I said, "Good God woman, don't you ever get enough?"
She laughed and said, "I thought you already knew the answer to that baby. No, not ever."
I grabbed her and pulled her into the apartment and fucked her on the floor. When I was done she said, "I guess I'll have to find some more guys that look like good fucks. If this is what happens when I point them out to you I'll have to do it more often."
I rolled her over, "You bitch, you fucking slut you" and I fucked her the ass. When it was over she pulled my chain again, "If you're like this when I talk about it I wonder how you'll act when I do it." I reached for her and she rolled away laughing and ran for the bedroom with me close behind. What I hadn't realized at the time is that I was kidding - she wasn't!
I was beat when I went to work on Monday, but somehow I managed to make it through the day. When I got home that night Vonda, who didn't have to go back to her job until Wednesday, had dinner waiting. I asked her how her day had gone and she said, "It was okay. I just fucked around and then I went and got another tattoo. Want to see?" It was a small star, about half the size of a dime, and it was just under the heart tattoo that said "All Yours."
"What's it mean?" I asked. She giggled and said, "That's where I'm going to keep score." I must have looked confused (not very surprising because I was) so she said, "You know those old war movies, the ones that show the pilots putting little flags on their planes to keep score of how many of the enemy they shot down?" I nodded a yes and she pointed at the star, "That's my scoreboard."
"What are you keeping score of?"
"Guys I fuck."
Of course I knew she was pulling my chain so I grinned at her, "You little slut, you absolute fucking slut" and I grabbed her and drug her to the bedroom. Over the next three months we fucked like bunnies and she was always pulling my chain and it always made my dick hard and we always ended up in the bedroom. The number of star tattoos grew until she had over twenty of them. One day she had one with a circle around it and I asked her what that meant and Vonda said, "It means that I let him fuck me in my ass."
I grabbed her and pushed her down on the kitchen floor and fucked her right there as she moaned, "Oh yes baby, fuck your little slut, fuck me baby, fuck me."
On weekends she would stand on the balcony and point out a guy and say, "See him? He fucked me Tuesday" or "See that guy over there? This is his star right here" and she would point at one and then laugh as I dragged her into the apartment and into the bedroom.
Another time I said, "I thought you told me that you could never get enough."
"I can't and I don't."
"Yet in over three months you only let yourself get fucked a total of" and I leaned forward and counted the stars "twenty-three times."
.... There is more of this story ...