Chapter 1

Christy

I was always fucking around on him, from before we were even married. But he was so submissive that he didn't even care. I called all the shots around the house. You'd think that with a PhD in Geologic Engineering – that's basically finding oil – that he'd have a little spine. That he'd be smart enough to stand up to me. But no.

Don't get me wrong, I loved Rob Metcalf. He was a good provider, always did the chores around the house – or he paid somebody to do 'em – and treated me like a princess. And if he had some spine, he'd be perfect – but if he had some spine, I wouldn't be getting all the dick I was getting.

And I was getting a lot of dick.

When I met Rob, he was finishing up the final leg of his PhD and working for Daddy in the small engineering firm that he founded. He was 25 and I was 21, so that made it about five years ago. I'm a blonde bombshell – that's what the headline said when I won Miss Oklahoma at 18. It wasn't my natural color, but nobody'd ever be able to check the original color of the drapes because I shaved the rug – and kept it shaved. It only took one boy (at age 15) to tell me that he wouldn't go down on me because he didn't like to get pussy hair in his teeth. So I started shaving my mound. I also applied a light coloring to my eyebrows and the hair on my arms, so ... I was a blonde. I'm short at 5'3" and a curvy 36C-23-34. I keep myself in good shape, too, thanks to the local gym. I do Kegel exercises while I'm on the treadmill, so my internals match the fitness of my flat abs.

Rob's not hideous to look at either. He's almost 6' and very well put together. He won't wear contacts, though – he says he's outside so much that between the sun, the wind and the blowing dirt, he has to stick to glasses. He tends to wear these dorky, Clark Kent style glasses. That's the only thing about him. Well, that and the no-spine thing. That's a real turn-off, even though I insist on it.

We've got this nice house outside Tulsa, set off by itself on five acres. It has a pool, a spa and a stable. We keep two horses, both nice easy riding Tennessee Walking horses with a real smooth gait. The whole house thing was a wedding present from Daddy. I'm sure that Rob's current job level was a wedding present, too. He was good at what he did, I'm sure, because he was always flying around the country to find oil. He'd never have had that responsible a job without the special connection to the company's founder – you betcha.

Maybe that's why he was so tolerant of my sexual escapades. His professional life depended on keeping on my good side. Plus I gave him some real good sex once in a while.

I started cheating on him when we got engaged – officially. Before that, I was just screwing around – with him and about five other guys. Never more than one at a time, you understand. I'm not a slut, I'll have you know.

Then one day, he proposed. He wanted a white picket fence, three kids, a dog and a stay at home wife. I fudged an answer, said 'Yes, but I have to think it over.' And that was that. I gave him a nice blow job that night to show him what a good boy he was. The next day I talked it over with Daddy, who asked me if I could settle down with Rob. He said Rob was a good guy, a real prospect and somebody he'd be proud to have for a son-in-law, somebody to be the son he never had, somebody to take over the company one day. But I'd have to stop screwing everybody in sight.

I told Daddy that I had never done that, I just had a few friends – and that list was getting shorter since I'd been seeing Rob. So ... I lied. I said sure, I could settle down, give him grandbabies someday, and be a loyal wife.

I don't know why he was so high and mighty. My mother died when I was 15 from breast cancer, and after about a year, he had a new trophy girl to play with every six months or so. It got so bad that he moved the headquarters of the company to Dallas about two years back; I think it was so he'd have a broader selection.

So I went back to Rob and gave him a firm 'Yes' answer. Two days later I officially moved in to his apartment and the next morning I started officially cheating.

Where was I? Oh, yeah ... When Rob and I got engaged, I picked up the pace on giving him sex. It was kind of a reward for being such an attentive future husband. Also to keep him so happy he wouldn't ask about the other guys. Let's see, what was my rotation back then?

I went to the gym four days a week: Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. I'd been going to the gym for about six months before Rob proposed. So that meant I got an enthusiastic pounding by Eric on those days. He was my personal trainer. He was also my personal pussy eater and ass fucker. Eric had a rather small four and a half inch dick – not too thick either. I think it was the steroids. But he had a set of muscles on him that just wouldn't quit. And a nice integrated set of tats – the body art on that man was never gonna quit. He had a fancy Oriental dragon on his shoulders: it's mouth came snarling at you in blue, black, and yellow, breathing big red flames across the left side of his chest. The tail dripped over his right side, and the body of the beast coiled across his back. He had big broad shoulders, bulging biceps, more than a six-pack of abs, and leg muscles that he used to support us when he picked me up to fuck. I always went about 10 a.m.; so we'd have the 'executive weight room' to ourselves ... to 'exercise.' Except on Saturdays, that was the busiest day. On Saturday, we had to fuck in the office he shared with his boss. That meant sometimes I had to fuck the boss too, almost every week. Woe is me; how could I ever endure the hardship of more dick?

I never got off on blowing Eric – too small, ya know? I called him my 'muscle man' and I just loved it when he'd pick me up with my legs over his sexy arms. He'd fold me in half and then pound my pussy or my ass in that position. Best was when he did my pussy and my ass. Afterwards he'd push me against the wall and lift me up 'til my legs draped over his broad shoulders; I'd plant my right leg over the dragon's mouth and my left on the dragon's tail. Of course, this put my tail at face level and he'd lick his own cream out of me. Heaven.

We were sharing an apartment by then and Rob got home from work at about 6:30. He had to study for his PhD and by the time Rob was done and we got ready for sex with him it was always about 10 or later. Between Eric eating his cum out of me and the hours that had passed, I didn't really ever have to give Rob sloppy seconds. So that's why I had sex with him on gym days. Even then, I was nice to him. Sloppy seconds would have been insulting.

Johnny came over to tend the lawn for the apartment complex on Wednesdays. He was a high school senior back then and needed the job for extra money. After he saw me sunning myself near the pool, in my tiniest bikini, of course, he started to hang around the pool. From the looks of the shorts he wore he had something to be proud of. Who's kidding who? I was checking out his package as much as he was drooling over the little patches of cloth I was pretending to wear. There's only so much of getting tiny dick that a girl can be expected to take.

Not that Rob had a small dick. He was on the plus side of average: about six and a half, I guess. But Rob wasn't in the sweepstakes. I had to do him, 'cause he was my number one man, my husband. Johnny, on the other hand, was exceptional and he was in the cockstakes.

One day before we hooked up, I asked him to rub some oil on my back and wouldn't you know it? A few minutes later we were in the guest bedroom doing the nasty. He did have a nice almost nine incher. Not too big around. And he thought that all he had to do was show it to me, stick it in and pound away like a dog. He did like his doggy, too. I never let him have my ass, because I didn't want to think about cramming all that meat in my littlest hole.

I had to slap his dick some, the first few times, to show him that I wasn't some cheerleader bimbo that would be impressed by appearance. That brought him up short, and I'd have to stroke it real nice to 'make it better.' It took him about two months to learn how to please me. Boy was a quick learner. Then I gave him his first blow job. Then he became a real quick learner, with the incentive I offered. He was in love, I swear, bless his little heart. You see, none of his previous girl friends would even touch his dick with their mouths. It was scary big. But with a cock that big, you could just suck on the head, use your tongue on the underside, and use a two handed tennis grip on the shaft. It's all in the knowing how. A smart girl could tame a big dick with a little lick.

I'd do that for him first when he came in – give him a bj. That would give him enough gratitude to eat me and endurance to fuck me afterward. And wow! Could that boy fuck up a storm. He'd usually fuck me for a couple of hours, sending me over the top at least three and sometimes five or six times. I remember once he had me wiped out with a three and a half hour session. My pussy was so swamped with his cum, I didn't dare let Rob at me that day.

Fridays were kink days back then. I started with Stan before I actually moved in with Rob. Back then I was living at home, and just visited Rob's apartment to use the pool. That was when I met Stan, to guy from 4D in the next building over. We always went to his apartment. He was older. Not old mind you, just about 40. The first time he got me flat on my back on his bed and worked me over with his hands and mouth. Then he said, "Trust me. You're gonna love this."

With his cock at the entrance to my pussy he reached around above my head and slipped handcuffs on me. My eyes got real big. He pushed in a little, just spreading my cunt lips and said, "You're doing real well. Just hold still." He pushed in another – I don't know – a half inch, then pulled back. I watched him as he pulled out and got to my ankles – he did the left first. He put a padded leather cuff around each ankle and clipped it to a chain – A CHAIN! – attached to some sliding contraption that went under his bed. Then he went to the top and moved my wrists to the same sort of arrangement – padded leather cuffs and a sliding rig that went under the bed.

I started breathing faster. This was exciting. It was fun. It was dangerous.

He looked at me. "Do you object? Do you have any questions or concerns?"

I thought fast. "Uhm ... No marks on my body. And I have to be home to take care of my boyfriend by 4 p.m." I was ready – I thought. Turns out I wasn't ready for what he brought.

He grinned. It was only noon.

That first day with Stan was a real eye-opener. He never fucked me – well not in the pussy or ass, anyway. He slipped a dildo in my ass and turned it on. It gave me a rippling stretching kind of workout. Then he put one in my pussy that completely filled me up and was just a vibrator. THEN he strapped on a butterfly kind of thing that put an erratic buzzing thing on my clit. OH MY GOD! I orgasmed immediately.

Then he offered me his cock. He man-handled my lips into a pout and then rested his purple cockhead on them. It wasn't anything special, maybe six or seven inches, and average thickness. Kinda like Rob's. But I was vibrating in all kinds of directions down at my pelvis, almost in constant orgasm or near-orgasm. I slurped that cock into my mouth and sucked. He pushed it in and it was just long enough to tickle my gag reflex. I choked and gagged and he pulled out. Then he put it in and said, "No, my dear, you're going to learn."

He put his dick in about half way, held my head in his hands and began to face fuck me. He was moving my head back and forth so fast I had to close my eyes, lest they fall out.

Stan fucked my mouth through two of his orgasms, and countless of mine. Of course, the trio of buzzers on my crotch were still going. Maybe it was just one long cum. I was just laying there when he finished with my mouth, enjoying things. He tapped my cheek and said, "Open up." Without opening my eyes, I opened. He slid some metal and rubber contraption into my mouth. I jerked awake. It slid part way toward the back of my mouth, just tickling the gag point.

He said, "You're going to have to learn to take all of me. Might as well get started."

He got off the bed, turned the vibes up to full speed and slipped a blindfold on me. Then he left. I was gagging, spread eagle on the bed, clit, pussy and ass stuffed with vibrating things and I was all alone. He came in after what seemed like a week – it was probably fifteen minutes – and turned something in my mouth 'appliance.' Then the metal part extended itself down my throat a bit more. He pinched my nipples a little, I think. I really don't remember. I was in overload.

I gagged a lot on that thing in my throat. At first I fought it. I couldn't fight it forever, and with my sex being constantly abuzz, I didn't want to. Finally I forgot about the throat thing and concentrated on getting off. I maxed out with orgasms. I drifted in and out. He came and undid the devices one after another. The mouth thing was last. He jumped up on the bed, one knee by each ear. Then he slipped his cock into my mouth and pushed. I took it easily into my throat. He pulled out at once, patted me on the head and said, "Good girl." He said it the same way you'd say it to a dog that came back with a thrown tennis ball.

He untied me and helped me into his tub, filled with warm water and some lavender scented oil. Then Stan carefully washed me all over, and patted me dry at the end. I was as limp as a dishrag. I looked at the clock, sure it was very late. It was only 2:30.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked me as I was getting dressed.

I was pulling up my loose gym shorts, and I paused. "Once a week. I don't think I could take it any more than once a week," I said with a tired smile. I twitched my ass for him and finished pulling up my pants.

Sunday was my day of rest. And church, of course; we always went to church on Sunday.

So that was a typical week during the six months of our engagement – and before our engagement, truth be told. I didn't slow down or speed up anything. Except for Rob. He got extra sex – usually Sunday evenings – after the engagement. Like I said, my main man deserved it.

Then came the wedding. I had to decide what to do. No way I could give up all that glorious sex and be just with Rob a few boring days a week. I had to convince him to take on the role I wanted him to take. I honestly loved Rob and didn't was to show him any disrespect. So I wouldn't cheat on him any more. I'd just have to be upfront with him about how much sex I needed and how I intended to get it.

He'd have to deal with it, if he wanted to stay married to me. Of course, 'married to me' also meant 'keep your six-figure per year job.' Did he think that he deserved a six-figure salary at 25, with a newly minted PhD? He was smart. He'd knuckle under.

I would make it my business to be sure that sex with him was first rate. He came first. He'd never get sloppy seconds. He'd get a blow job any time he wanted it. An enhanced bj, too, thanks to Stan. Rob would get as much sex as he'd ever want. Just that I would, too, and I wanted a whole lot more than any man could provide. Fair is fair, after all. We'd both get all the sex we wanted.

So, months before the wedding, I began to talk to Rob. About how love was the most important thing. He agreed. But sex wasn't the same as love, right? Okay. So maybe sometimes a little sex on the side could spice up a marriage. That, if you took care of your marriage obligations, it didn't matter if there was some sex on the side.

Well, that didn't sit very well with Rob. At. All.

"I want a one man woman," he said. "I need a one man woman. Not a slut."

"Oh, never a slut," I said, agreeing with him. Thinking back, I never slutted around with more than one at a time. That'd be gross – well maybe not, but I wouldn't go there just now. "Just that, maybe – MAYBE – once in a while you or I would want something outside the formal marriage arrangement.

"I love you, Rob. Only you." I crawled up into his lap, and began to kiss him with little sucky kisses on his neck. "And I want only you." I'd start to rub his crotch. This was especially effective on work days when he was tired. He was a horny goat back then and I knew that he really couldn't think properly when I got him excited. Little dicky had a little brain, you know?

It took a month of Sundays, but I eventually got him to the point where he'd concede that maybe, sometime getting a little extra sex would be ok. That it really would be fair if we each got to experience as much sex as we would like. Most importantly, I got him to tolerate the idea that he might watch me. And then I'd fuck him blind, to show him that he was important to me and was my main man. Number one in my heart and in my pussy. Looking back on it, I'd say his eyes were glazed over when I got to the 'agreeing' part of the discussion. I mean, how much agreeing or disagreeing can a guy handle when his cock is in my pussy, right?

The wedding got closer and I told Rob that we wouldn't have any sex at all for a week before the big day. Of course, I got my regular injections from Eric, Johnny and Stan. You wouldn't expect me to do without, would ya?

At the last minute, there was some confusion about the minister, but Rob got that sorted out. He was so good with details, sometimes. The poor guy was so flustered that he never even straightened out the timing with his family, though. They had to fly in from Pennsylvania, and missed their flight. So his mom, dad and younger sister never did get to the ceremony or reception. We'd see them later. The wedding party was pretty small: three couples who were our friends. Well, the guys were my special friends, you know? I 'auditioned' them a couple of weeks before and let them know about my plans. We auditioned on gym days and I learned how they fucked. I'd rate them as B, B and A. It was a bonus that the best man, Frank, was the A. With the extra fucking and them not being interested in eating creampie, that was the only time I ever offered Rob sloppy seconds. I didn't like to do that, but I had to know that they would be up to the challenge.

The wedding was beautiful. I wore a white dress and the guys wore tuxes. I think that look is so hot! The reception went on late into the night and Rob and I were pretty plastered. Eventually we left, though I think the party went on for some time. We retired to the honeymoon suite in the hotel where the reception was held.

Rob was really sweet in the suite. (Did you notice what I did there? Sweet ... suite? LOL) I did a sexy strip for him, finally getting down to the Vicky's Secret lingerie: a bustier that had my breasts sitting on a shelf, nipples visible, a garter belt, white stockings, and a nearly invisible g-string that was like dental floss everywhere except right over my pussy. That had an 'R' embroidered on it. It was pretty clear whose pussy it was.

Then I turned to Rob. He was still in his tux and I felt that he was way overdressed. I helped him strip. We threw his clothes all over the room, and I wound up kneeling in front of him when I pulled his boxers down. He was ready, let me tell you.

I slurped him into my mouth while he stood over me. I looked up into his eyes and I put his hands on my shaggy hairdo.

"I want to give you all you can handle, lover," I said. When I sucked my way down his shaft and then back up, he closed his eyes. I pulled his cock out of my mouth with a 'pop' and then slurped it back in. His cock stayed in my mouth and I worked like a demon on the head. My tongue slithered around on the underside. You know, where most guys are real sensitive?

I could feel the big vein that led in an irregular path up to the head. It was pulsing. I got excited and when he shot his load into my mouth, I came, too. That was a first for me.

I had never given him a full-on throat job. I was saving it for tonight. His cock softened a little, but I never let it out of my mouth. He was partly glazed over, but his attention came back real strong when I looked into his blue eyes with as much love as I'd ever had. Of course, my tongue on his dick helped focus his attention.

I worked it violently on his cockhead. Then I took a little more and worked on the middle of his dick, sliding back and forth. Keeping my eyes on his, I slid all the way down his shaft. I even wrapped my hands around his hips and grabbed his ass and pulled myself onto him – hard. I stuck out my tongue a little bit and started to wash his balls – as much as I could, anyway.

He only got into my throat a little way, so I could keep on breathing. I stayed on him, kept him real deep and swallowed. And swallowed again and again and again. I could feel the cum start to boil out of his balls. My nose was still buried in his pubic hair, and my eyes were locked on his. I stuck a finger up his ass, which I'd never done before, and he started to cum. Boy! I thought his first injection of sperm in my mouth was a lot, but this time he outdid himself. Spurt after spurt. I just let it slither down my throat, and I hoped that sperm and champagne were compatible. Barfing at a time like this wouldn't be cool.

I made sure his cock was nice and clean before it left my mouth. Then I sat back on my knees and said, "Got any more for me, lover? I need you in my other holes, you know."

He smiled. "After a week without, what do you think?" Rob laughed a little while he pulled off the g-string and hoisted me up on the bed. He planted his face in my pussy and began to give me some of the same as he just got. Well, he couldn't deep throat me, of course, but he licked and licked and nibbled and got fingers in my pussy and ass. I just had a wonderful time. Must have come two or three times.