Chapter 7

That Friday morning when I went to work, I didn't tie Becky to the bed. It was the first time in three weeks she'd been unbound when I left. She was wild with excitement. Of course, her wildness was partially attributable to not having any orgasms in forty-eight hours after averaging fifty or so a day for the two weeks before that. And she was wildly anticipating the weekend because she knew, just knew, she was going to get pregnant this weekend. All in all, she was a mad woman.

I was excited, too. Our whole adventure with Mr. Williams had started because Becky wanted more sex than I could give her and she wanted a baby, which I couldn't give her, since I was sterile.

I knew she was going to the hairdresser and then to the dress shop to pick up her new dress. Mr. Williams had told me he would bring Trudy over when he picked up Becky so I could have Trudy that weekend.

I got home early. Becky was in the shower. I was standing in the bathroom waiting for her when she turned off the water. She saw me and squealed, throwing herself into my arms, crushing those big tits against me.

"Bobby! Bobby! This is the weekend! I'm going to get pregnant! Oh, Bobby, I've wanted this so long!"

She shoved me back against the wall and started trying to unbuckle my belt.

"No, Becky. Mr. Williams said no orgasms until he picks you up."

"Please. I had one in the shower, but I need another one. One from a cock up me. Please, Bobby. Oh, God, Bobby, do you realize what has happened! Do you? Well?"

"What?" I answered, confused by her conversation.

"I orgasm so easily now. And, you, you big stud, you hold back so much better. Do you know I orgasm every time your fuck me? Did you know that? Every time! Oh, God, that's so great. Just think, Bobby. I cum every time you stick your dick in me. I just love that!"

She giggled evilly.

"Now, don't let that be an excuse not to eat my pussy. You've always been the best pussy eater in the world, and I do love your tongue. You'll eat my pussy, won't you? If I'm a good little slut for you? Please, Bobby."

"Of course, Becky. I love eating you."

"Do it now!"

"No orgasm."

"Meanie," she said petulantly.

Suddenly, she stepped back and looked at me quizzically.

"Bobby, do you eat Trudy?"

I had to think for a minute.

"No. I don't"

"Honey, you should. If she's going to be your slut, too, you should eat her. You know, Bobby, all women love to be eaten, to have a man lick their pussy and suck their clit. And, I know Mr. Williams will never do that. So, you can give her a great pleasure she'll not get from anyone else. Because, Bobby, as good as fucking is, eating is almost as good, and no one does it better than you."

"I thought you didn't want me to be with Trudy."

She was towel drying her hair, which had been cut shorter and dyed a brassy blonde. It was a style where she just dried it and fluffed it. As she vigorously massaged her scalp, those big tits moved like animals. It was mesmerizing.

"Hey, my face is up here," she said with a laugh. "Seriously, honey. I want you to have Trudy."

She put the towel down and took my hands in hers. She put my hands on her hips and shoved her pelvis against me.

"Look, Bobby. No one has said anything to me, but I have a gut feeling about this. Bobby, what if Mr. Williams wants me to have sex with a bunch of guys. Will you mind?"

"You had sex with everyone at the old folks' home and I didn't mind."

"I have a feeling he might be thinking of a whole lot, like, maybe, a dozen or so."

I didn't tell her it would be two dozen plus. Mr. Williams asked me to let him surprise her.

"I won't mind. I'll still love you."

"Oh, Bobby. I know I'm the biggest slut in town, maybe in the whole country. I do love being a slut. I can't tell you how much I love it. But I love you so much. I need you to be here for me. I never want to lose you. That's the reason I want you to have Trudy, or, if not her, someone else. I want your sex life to be wonderful, too."

"It'd be wonderful with just you. You're the greatest."

"Thanks, baby. I know I'm the greatest, but a lot of times I'll be fucking someone else, maybe a lot of someone elses. If Trudy's available, well, I want you to go for it," she said.

"Don't worry about it. Did Mr. Williams call? What does he have planned?"

Her eyes lit up like a slot machine.

"Oh, Bobby. I'm so excited! This weekend I get pregnant, and, I get laid until I cannot walk. He'll be here in thirty minutes. He's bringing Trudy with him to spend the weekend with you while I'm fucking your boss and his friends. Don't forget. Eat her pussy. She'll love it. Let me put on my makeup and then I'll show you my dress."

Without talking and with complete concentration, Becky professionally applied her makeup. Of course, she wore more than she did before she became a slut, my boss' slut. Mr. Williams wanted her to wear more. She slipped red thigh high stockings up her legs. She put on red pumps with six inch heels. They buckled around her ankle, but did not lock.

When she got the dress out of the closet, at first, I thought it was a bikini. It was tiny. It was red and made of nylon and spandex. The top had shoulder straps and a strap which ran behind her back. It was a pullover, sleeveless. It covered her breasts and stopped. When she put it on, I was reminded of packing sausage. It was that tight, hugging her breasts perfectly. She looked more naked than if she had been naked.

The skirt was as revealing. She wiggled it up her body and over her hips. She held her breath as I zipped it. When she was standing, you could see about a half inch of bare skin below the skirt and above the stockings. The waist of the skirt dipped in front coming to a "v" which pointed straight down between her legs, with the point of the "v" where hair would have been had she hadn't been shaved. Her jewelry which said slut and hung from her pierced navel was the only thing she wore between her breasts and her skirt.

She was prancing, almost out of control. She was like a horse ready for a parade. And, boy, did she look good!

The doorbell rang. She squealed and ran to open the door. She jumped into Mr. Williams arms on the front porch, threw her legs around him and kissed him with all she had. I glanced around for the neighbors. Mr. Gleason was watering his flowers again, watching Becky as intently as he could.

"Easy, Becky," Mr. Williams said. She held on like a leech as he walked in. Trudy was right behind them.

"Trudy!" Becky said. Trudy looked startled.

"Thank you for being with Bobby while I'm with Mr. Williams. I really appreciate it," Becky said. She sounded sincere. Trudy looked as if she couldn't believe it. "Now, take good care of him for me!"

"Sure, Becky," Trudy replied, still acting as if she could not believe Becky.

"Let's go, Mr. Williams!"

"Not so fast. Bob, fuck this hot slut and do it doggie style."

Becky spun on her heel, arched her back to thrust her breasts out toward me, and grinned.

"Yeah, Bobby. Fuck this hot slut!"

Mr. Williams pushed Becky across the table face first and lifted up her skirt. She was wiggling her ass and murmuring "come on, come on." I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock. Boy, was I hard! Me! Bobby! Hard as a rock and getting ready to fuck the best slut in the whole country. I jammed it in Becky.

"Slowly, Bobby. Make her beg for it," Mr. Williams said softly in my ear.

I slowed down making long, smooth strokes, slamming in fast, coming out slow. Becky was whining and whimpering. On the fifth stroke, I felt her pussy spasm on my cock.

"Yes, Bobby. Yes! Do me faster! Faster! I'm cumming! Oh, God, I'm cumming."

She was sweating, and spasming on my cock. I was easily holding back. By the time I came, Becky had three orgasms and was covered in sweat. As I pulled out, Mr. Williams reached over and pinched Becky's pussy shut with his fingers. In his other hand was a gold clip, like the kind women wear in their hair. It had three teeth on each side.

Now I knew why he had three rings put in each side of Becky's pussy. The teeth of the comb were designed to slip into the rings in her pussy. When he released the snap, the spring closed, holding her pussy shut.

"What are you doing?" Becky asked, sounding confused.

"Get a mirror, Trudy," Mr. Williams ordered.

Trudy got the mirror and gave it to him. He held it so Becky could look back through her legs and see her pussy.

"Well, look at that," she said. "It seals my pussy."

Becky was admiring her pussy, as we all were. It did look very slutty to see her pierced pussy, which was full of my cum, sealed with a golden comb.

"Okay, Becky. Let's go," Mr. Williams said, playfully swatting her ass which was raised in the air. Becky giggled as she stood and straightened her clothes.

"Let me clean up before we leave."

"No. You looked freshly fucked. That's the way sluts should look."

She smiled like that thought pleased her and grabbed her purse. She kissed me on the lips and whispered for me to be sure to eat Trudy while she was gone. What surprised me was she kissed Trudy on the lips, too, and told her to please me. Trudy was stunned, standing with her mouth hanging open as she watched them leave.

Mr. Gleason watched every move of Becky's body as she pranced to the limo on Mr. Williams' arm. She wiggled even more for him and blew him a kiss. Mr. Gleason was going to drown those damn flowers if he kept watering them as an excuse to see what Becky was doing.

Trudy and I had a lovely weekend. We spent Friday night in bed together. Saturday, we went to the beach. Trudy looked great in her bikini. I really liked Trudy. She was sexy, sweet and fun. While she was fucking two men, Mr. Williams and me, she didn't act like a true slut, like Becky. But my Becky was a world class slut.

It was interesting comparing the two of them. I was very glad I had them both. But if someone said I could only have one of them, I would say Becky no matter how many other men she fucked. I liked Trudy a lot. But I loved Becky.

I did spend a lot of time that weekend eating Trudy. Becky was right. She loved it. She said no man had ever eaten her before. I felt sorry for those men. They had missed some very sweet tasting pussy.

Mr. Williams called us from the phone in the limo. We were standing on the front porch when it pulled up in front at four thirty on that Sunday afternoon. Instantly, the door opened and Becky stepped out. Trudy gasped and my mouth fell open.

Becky was naked. I mean naked. Even her stockings and shoes were gone. She acted like nothing was wrong as she bent over to kiss Mr. Williams goodbye which flashed her pussy at us. I could see the comb was in place. Mr. Gleason was watering his flowers again.

"Hi, Mr. Gleason," Becky called out as she waved to him. Her walk was exaggerated as she swished down the sidewalk to the door. She did not run, but walked as if she had all day. Mr. Gleason sat down in the wet flowerbed. I could clearly hear his groan.

On the front porch, Becky gave me a quick kiss and said hi. She turned to Trudy.

"Did you take good care of him?" she asked.

"Of course," Trudy said, blushing slightly.

"Thanks, Trudy," Becky said sincerely. She grabbed Trudy and kissed her hard on the lips, her tongue in Trudy's mouth, their bodies grinding together. At first Trudy tried to pull away, but Becky held her by the back of the neck and kissed her like a man kisses a woman he wants to conquer. Becky's other hand was playing with Trudy's breast. Trudy's eyes glazed over and closed and her arms dropped by her side as her resistance ceased. Becky broke the kiss and patted Trudy lovingly on the bottom.

"Mr. Williams is waiting, Trudy. But, you and I'll get together real soon."

Trudy backed away, almost falling off the porch. We watched her run to the limo and jump in. The door slammed and the limo sped off. I shut the front door behind us. Becky looked very happy, but exhausted, as if she were running on pure adrenalin. Her short, brassy blonde hair was spiked, like a punk rocker. I realized it was plastered with cum as was much of the rest of her. She was covered in cum.

"What was kissing Trudy all about?"

"Bobby, it occurred to me that men like to see women having sex with women. Women can have sex continually, but you guys have to rest sometimes. So, we girls can please each other while you guys are resting. Besides, Bobby, let's be honest. How can I really be a slut if I do not have sex with other women?"

"That does make sense," I replied, thinking about how much I enjoyed just watching them kiss. I was really looking forward to Becky and Trudy really getting it on with each other. She leaned against me and kissed me long and slowly.

"I have so much to tell you. I hope it makes you happy, Bobby, because, while it's very slutty and really wild, it makes me happier then I have ever been since the day I married you."

"Becky, I'm anxious to hear," I replied.

"Come on. I want a bath."

Just then, the doorbell rang. I peered out the peephole to see Mr. Gleason standing there, looking sanctimonious and angry. I told Becky who it was. She just grinned and opened the door wide, standing there naked and slutty for Mr. Gleason to see. His eyes bugged out and he couldn't yank his stare from Becky's naked tits. But his mouth still worked.

"Young woman," he snapped. "You're nothing but a common slut! I'm going to call the police and report your scandalous behavior. We have laws against people like you!"

Becky grabbed his head with both hands and kissed him hard, grinding her mouth and body against him. She took his hands and put them on those big tits of hers. I saw her hands over his, making him massage her tits.

"Massage my tits, Mr. Gleason. Come on now. Doesn't that feel good to you? Yes, I'm a slut. But there is nothing common about me. I'm the best slut in the whole fucking country."

She released his hands and Mr. Gleason kept massaging her tits. He looked like he couldn't believe where his hands were and had absolutely no control over them. Becky slipped her hands to his crotch and massaged his cock through his pants.

"Nice cock, Mr. Gleason," she said sensually. "If you come in your pants for me, tomorrow I'll give you a blow job. I'll let you play with my tits all you want to while you come in my mouth. You'll love doing that, won't you? Come on, Mr. Gleason, come in your pants for me."

I could tell by his face he could not hold back. He jerked and groaned.

"Oh, that's a good boy," she murmured as her hands flew back and forth. "Now, come over at nine in the morning for your blow job from the best slut in the country. Don't be late."

She kissed him softly and pushed him out the door. I looked through the peephole. Mr. Gleason, stunned and frozen, stood facing the closed door. His hands were still raised, fingers open as they had been when he played with Becky's tits.

Becky grinned at me and took my hand to lead me into the bathroom. She stopped by the bed, kissed me again and put my hand on her pussy. I could feel the golden comb.

"Do you know what's in my pussy, Bobby?"

"No."

"Cum. The cum of seven men. Five of those seven will be the fathers of your children. Your children, Bobby. And mine. Five little babies for us to raise as our own. Bobby, you better sit down."

She held my hands as we sat side by side on the bed. When she smiled, I could see flakes of white, dried cum, break off and float away.

"Bobby, seven men put their seed in me to get me pregnant. They're not all white. Bobby, I don't care. Do you?"

"No. Mr. Williams told me the plan to get you pregnant."

"And you don't mind? Thank God, Bobby, because I love his plan. I love the idea that I'll have children that don't look like you, not even of your race. I love that all of my children will have different fathers. I mean, this is definitely world class slut. I was afraid you'd object."

"Don't be afraid. I just want them to all be healthy."

She gave me a big grin, but her eyes were clouded. She had something else to tell me and she was afraid of my response.

"That's not all, Bobby. I'm going to be a whore."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean they want me to quit teaching and let all of them fuck me. There are twenty-five of them, Bobby. Twenty-five hard cocks to keep my sweet pussy filled. I like thinking of you and twenty-five other men to keep me satisfied. But they're going to pay me. That makes me a whore."

Tears formed in her eyes and slid down her cheeks, leaving wet tracks in the dried cum she wore as slut makeup. Her lower lip began to quiver like it always did when she was going to cry.

"Bobby," she said in a timid, tiny voice. "I don't want to be a whore. I want to be a slut."