He knew I loved this game, and he was highly aware of how it affected me. In my youth, I was mostly devoid of self-esteem. To garner acceptance and even be noticed, I adopted my mother’s habit of being a brazen, tawdry slut. That wrecked my life more times than I care to count, but I did receive attention. It wasn’t until I accepted my sexuality and myself along with it, rather than wielding my libido like a shield, that I found a happy harmony between showing my sexual side without harming my self-image.

My husband, from the first moment we met, embraced that side of me as well as everything else. Also, with him being so fucking dreamy that women spontaneously throw themselves at him with wild, slutty abandon, he doesn’t know how to get jealous. Usually, I tried to convince myself that any lover was the one for me. With Glade, I did the opposite; the early stages of our relationship were spent with me trying to find reasons to convince myself that it wasn’t all-consuming love.

For the record, it was love at first sight, coupled with all-consuming lust. Unlike mortal men, my soon-to-be husband didn’t fall for my innuendo and hints. Additionally, the competition was fierce. I threw caution and my self-esteem to the wind, and I slutted it up like I’d never had before. With him, I was not only free to be my complete, slutty self, but he was also my willing companion in debauchery, heightening the enjoyment of my kinks and taking them to new, extreme levels. 

As soon as he started in, telling me what random strangers were thinking, my soul lit up, craving horny attention, and my body ignited, tingling all over with little, electric sparks jolting my nipples and clit.

“Behind you, about three tables away, there’s an older gent, wearing a nice suit, dining with his wife. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you, and his hand has been in his lap since you bent over the table, sticking out that wet dream of an ass you have, to smell the scented candles.”

My nipples jutted out of their own accord, physically demonstrating the effect his hypnotic, sexual words were having. 

“He’s fantasizing about bending you over this very table.” His hand left mine, and he stroked the fine linen covering the table. “And taking you from behind while he spanks your perfect ass, making you moan in ecstasy.”

To my voyeur’s disparagement, I closed my legs, cutting off his view of my dripping pussy, so I could squeeze my thighs together.

“If you keep talking like that, I’m going to need you to do that.”

“That’s because you enjoy being watched and lusted after, don’t you? You always cum so hard when others are watching you, stroking their cocks over you and rubbing their pussies.”

I bit my bottom lip. My body was quivering, shaking with desire. He’d taken my sky-high lust and propelled it into another galaxy. 

Although he’d never once taken his off of me, he said, “Now, spread your legs, so the man looking up your dress can get his view of paradise back.”

That word, “Paradise,” nudged my flesh into an orgasmic state. Feeling my entire body catch lusty fire, the memory of the moment we met replayed itself in my mind. My brazen, bold man had landed between my legs, staring up my skirt at my nudity. In my irate tone, I had asked him if he liked the view, attempting to shame him. Ignoring my fury and not even bothering to pretend that he didn’t like the view of my exposed cunt, his smiling face looked up into my eyes, and he said, “Paradise.”

“I wasn’t flashing him,” I lied. I kept my tone sarcastic so he’d know that I wasn’t attempting to fool him.

“Talk like that again, and I’ll tear your beautiful dress off your perfect flesh this moment and spank you for being a bad girl.”

“Promises, promises. I’m so glad that you can handle me.”

“I love handling you. When I sleep, it’s all I dream about.”

Just then, destroying our passionate banter and ruining the flow, some sexy Asian waitress invaded our horny space. If Liz the Fucking Whore was hotter than me, Mai Lin was Aphrodite to my plainness. Her complexion was smooth and perfect, and her body was nude-model-worthy.

Mai Lin’s long, straight hair shimmered in the tasteful mood lighting and hung straight, descending to her waist. Her pert breasts, not at all concealed by her waitress vest and white blouse, stood up high and proud. She also had perfect legs, unlike mine, which resemble those of a chicken, topped with an ass that was the sort one would masturbate over. It was obvious that she knew how amazing her butt was because her lower body was clad in skin-tight, shimmery black leggings. The crease in her crotch let me know that she was, like me, devoid of panties. I simultaneously wanted to lick her pussy through her leggings and break her nose.

I’d seen her approaching, and the expression on her face alerted me that she was going to be slutty trouble. Her jaw dropped open when she saw my husband, and she glanced at the other waitresses, mouthing, “Oh, my God.” 

Thinking fast as she approached, I blurted out, “I’m so fucking wet. Promise me you’ll lick my pussy, later.”

“Hi, Mr. Glade,” she fucking interrupted. “I’m Lin, and I’ll take excellent care of you.”

Her eyes roamed all over his body, and I swear I saw some drool. Then, the bitch sealed her fate as far as I was concerned. “Are you a model?”

Glade guffawed with mirth at that, turning in his chair to face her. Her almond-shaped eyes bulged out at the sight of him, attempting to jump out of their sockets and touch him.

“No,” he smirked, and that roguish, crooked smile of his had its usual effect. Lin the slut’s face lit up, her perfect cheeks flushing with passion, and she smiled, her expression saying, “I’m yours; take me.” 

My husband, always the flirt—which I like when I’m the target, but not when he’s addressing man-stealing whores—continued. “I’m actually a professional psychic.”

“Really?” our waitress mused. She shimmied her perfect fucking body to show it off for him. “Read my mind then.”

My husband shrugged, and somehow, that boyish gesture sent erotic shivers down my spine, hers too. He squinted at her, still smiling, and pensively placed two fingers against his temple. Then his face lit up with a combination of shock and humor.

“Oooh, you dirty, dirty girl,” he said to her.

There’s a saying among my friends, “Instant slut, just add Glade.” Mai Lin was no exception. Neither am I, for that matter. Despite the fact that she should be professional and that she’d just seen him for the first time a few seconds ago, her face lit up Las Vegas at night, and she laughed. The horny beauty’s eyes sparkled as she reached out and slapped him on the arm. That action caused her expression to change into one of open lust.

“Wow,” she said. “You’re funny.” The cunt paused. “And muscular. Do you work out?”

Lin, the slut’s, hand had left his arm and was on his shoulder, heading down to his chest. I began mentally counting to five. If her slutty talons hadn’t removed them from my husband by then, I was going to tear her damn arm off and beat her with the stump.

Glade just turned and stared at me. He addressed her, but his eyes, showing love, devotion, and so much passion that my ire was forced from my psyche, replaced with unadulterated lust, remained on me.

“No,” he began. “I’m my goddess' sex slave, and she keeps me busy, so I look the way my perfect mistress wants.”

Finally, Lin The Slut looked at me and showed me a real-life example of the expression, “If looks could kill.”

While I do live a charmed, fairy-tale life, I’m also somewhat cursed. Everything I ever cared about disappears or gets destroyed. Likewise, almost everything I touch gets damaged. Because of that, my wedding ring mostly stays locked away in its own little safe. But that night, I was wearing it, and I put it to very effective use.

My left hand casually rose from the table and brushed away an imaginary stray lock of hair. The two-carat center stone glimmered, shining for all to see, especially for Mai Lin.

“Actually, he’s my husband,” I smiled at her, maybe saying “husband” a bit too loudly. 

The bitch ignored me and turned to Glade. “Are you ready to order, or do you need more time? You can take all night if you want.” My husband may be oblivious, but I’m not. She’d just declared war.

“I’d love to spend the night with you,” he instantly responded, nearly earning a sharp kick to the shins.

I was ready, though. With my slut powers activated, I wrenched up my dress and dropped my left hand to my wetness, soaking my hand. His knowing smirk when I raised my saturated fingers and licked my nectar off. My voyeur across the restaurant sputtered into his drink, and Glade smiled at me.

“But,” he continued without pause, "I think we’re ready. The lady of perfection shall have the filet, medium, with the house salad, lobster bisque, and potatoes au gratin. I’ll have the same.”

Dismissed with a venomous glance, she went away. “Now, where were we? You were telling me that you were going to spank me. What else are you going to do to me?”

“I won’t tell you,” he said. The way he looked at me, followed by his now-shoeless foot caressing my outstretched leg under the table, reignited my horny bliss. “I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do, though.”

“Like what?” I knew what was coming. I slowly lowered my hand under the table, placing it on my slick, velvety folds.

“I’m not going to tie you up tonight.” His tone, while always seductive, took on a magical quality, making my volcanic desire erupt. “You will not feel the ropes on your flesh nor the loving kiss of leather caressing your perfect body.”

He went on, listing all the things I yearn for. Our appetizers arrived, but he continued, making Lin the slut when he told me that he wasn’t going to stop giving me orgasms, no matter how much I begged. That’s right, suck it, bitch!

“And although you love it,” he said after our main course arrived. “You won’t feel my hardness filling up your ass tonight. Bad girls get spanked, not pleasured.”

He’d pushed me over the edge between the appetizers and our steaks arriving. I was barely eating, mostly because one of my hands was busy fingering my soaked pussy. My voyeur was enthralled, as was the woman who had been staring the entire time. I was on two cusps, and I blamed my sexy husband for enabling me to be this way. I was on the edge of cumming, right in the middle of the fancy restaurant, and I was on the verge of not caring if everybody saw and watched or if he got thrown out.

“If you... ummm... don’t stop, I’m going to cum right here.”

“Oh, I won't stop. That’s because you’re a naughty exhibitionist. The fact that you have every cock in here hard for you, including mine, gets you off, doesn’t it? You want everyone to know that you’re a horny slut, don’t you? I love you for it.”

Just then, that fucking waitress showed up. “Do you want any dessert?”

My fingers were strumming over my clit as hard and fast as I could manage without totally giving myself away. I honestly tried to stop, but I couldn’t; I was too close.

“YES!” I blurted out, drawing all eyes to me. To stop screaming and thrashing, I bit my lip so hard that I bruised it. I strove to imitate a statue as the waves of pleasure, heightened by naughty, taboo shame, consumed me.

“She loves dessert,” my laughing husband said. “She’ll have the Chocolate Sin cake because she’s the goddess of sinful, sensual delights. Nothing for me; I need to maintain my girlish figure.”

She ignored me, but waitresses always did. For a brief moment, in the aftershocks of my public release, I wished that I truly were as invisible as she had treated me. 

As intense as that was, he was unrelenting. My husband, in danger of being ravaged in public, kept turning up the heat. Every person in the general vicinity wanted me, according to him. In lavish detail, he described them, how they wanted to lick me, fuck me, and run their hands all over me. His descriptions of the things he wasn’t going to do to my impassioned body had my mind ablaze, my fingers furiously trying to keep my slutty pussy sated, and my mouth speaking, only begging please to be fucked hard.

The check came shortly after I did, and soon, I was pulling and tugging on his muscular arm, trying to rush him out of the restaurant, so I could get properly fucked. He stood, ever the gentleman, and pulled out my chair for me, with me sitting in it as if I were as light as a feather. Helping me stand, Glade spun me around, his hands all over my overheated body, and he kissed me. A hush fell over the place, but I couldn’t have cared less. I lost my sense of self and reality in his embrace. Nothing else existed; nothing else mattered. Then his hands groped my behind. I heard a jealous murmur and giggled into his mouth.

With his arm around me, many sets of eyes on me, some of them lusty, others judgmental, we left. Some heads turned, watching us through the window as we left. My husband gallantly ushered me to our car and opened the door. 

“One thing,” he said.

I barely had the time to turn and face him, and, in one perfectly orchestrated rending of fabric, he tore the dress off my body, exposing my nude body to all the onlookers, as well as the bus boys a few car lengths away, enjoying their break. I should have been mortified; embarrassment and shame should have reddened my body instead of the thrilling, horny lust that washed through me.

My wave to the onlookers, my stalwart voyeur included, was cheery, and I waved at the applauding and shouting busboys. 

“I hope you enjoyed that!” I exclaimed to Glade as I hastily jumped into the car and slammed the door shut.

“Well, we probably won’t be allowed back here,” my sexy husband said. “You are the most perfect, wildest person I’ve ever met. Open the glove compartment.”

We drove off, and secreted within the glove box, was my cordless vibrator. He’d thought of everything.

“It’s synced to the car stereo. Have fun.”

Most women would be more than satisfied, but not me, because I’m broken. I’d flashed in public, given my wine steward an erection over me, been talked and seduced into a horny frenzy so overpowering that I fingered myself inside a fancy restaurant, and then been stripped nude, in front of others, in the parking lot. I'd even out-slutted Glade’s Groupies with my naughty antics. However, that only stoked my sexual fires; it didn’t quench them. 

We drove through the city and onto the highway with the toy buzzing, vibrating, and pulsing inside my wet, horny cunt. My fingers were all over myself, tugging on my nipples and furiously rubbing my clit.

“Do you love your slut?” I moaned. “Tell me how hot it makes you watching me be such a whore. Promise me you’ll fuck me hard and cover me with cum. I’m fucking cumming, again. Oh, fuck!”

The drive from the city to home is almost forty minutes. I masturbated the entire way, only removing my hands from my body to wave at the truckers and other travelers. The entire time, he kept up with his horny, seductive talk. My entire soul melted into horny oblivion. I ceased to exist; only sexual need, personified, remained.

When we arrived home, I couldn’t wait any longer. I didn’t wait for him to exit. Before the vehicle had completely stopped, I climbed over the gearshift and opened his door, pushing him out. Crawling over the driver’s seat, I launched my horny flesh at him and devoured my mind-fucking husband.

He shoved me off of him, gripping my hair firmly, but not pulling it, and lifted me to my feet. Feeling his strong, manly hands on my needy flesh, he forced my willing body onto the hood of his sports car, bending me over.

“What are you?” he said, half sternly and half musingly. 

“I’m a slut. Your slut.”

“What else are you?”

“Fucking horny. Fucking fuck me already!”

The hard, arousing spank to my bare behind made me jump. “You’re a bad girl! Bad girls get spanked. I told you that when you started playing with yourself in public, you slut.”

Fuck, yeah! My mind screamed. “Yes, sir. I’m a bad, horny slut that needs her spanking,” my mouth said.

My man didn’t just spank my ass; he caressed it, licked and bit it, lightly touched it, and then slammed his hands against it, my moans and the resounding slapping sounds echoing off the trees. Glade gently clawed at my back, his huge erection pressing against my hot buns and rubbing against my leaking cunt. I backed into his cock, which caused even more abuse of my tender butt. Moaning, I backed into him harder, humping my overheated body and my stinging buttocks against him.

While he spanked me, playing my body like a master musician, my uncontrollable lust grew even more.

“I need cock. Give me your cock. Please fuck me. I want your dick in my mouth. I need it, need, need it. Please!”

His gruff but somehow still delicate hands spun me around. I didn’t know what he had in store for me, but I knew what I wanted. I dropped to my knees, desperately tugging at his pants.

“Beg for it, you horny slut.” He knew exactly what I needed. I had been on a slutty bender, and I needed to be punished. We’ll ignore the fact that I love this sort of punishment. At that moment, I knew that I had somehow snagged the most wonderful man in existence, and he wanted me and only me. The sluts could lust after him all they wanted; his hard cock was throbbing for me, only me.

I mentioned that I love showing off his monster, mutant cock. “Girl, how do you walk?” has been asked by more than one of my friends. It’s fucking huge! The thing is, to him, seduction is an all-time thing. He doesn’t just get romantic and seduce me when he’s horny. Perhaps he’s always horny, and that’s why. Either way, it amounts to the same thing.

Every moment of my life has been like this. The only things that change are that he ups the intensity daily and never repeats himself unless I outright tell him that I want him to do it more. The mind-fucking is one of those things. By the time the Goddess Moon rises in the night sky, I’m so worked up that I’ll do anything to cum more and go even further to please him.

“Please give me your cock. I’ll fucking die if you don’t give it to me. Fuck my face and tell me what a dirty whore I am. Slap me around, light me on fire; I don’t care, just give me your fucking cock.”

“As you wish.” My husband ripped his shirt off, which was a pity because I loved how he looked in it, and undid his pants. 

I stretched my mouth open as wide as I could and stuck my tongue out, my fingers flying between my legs once more. Finally, having been blissfully driven over the edge and reduced to a begging, needy slut, he shoved that mutant hunk of meat between my lips. Like the bitches trying to steal my man at the restaurant, I sucked it, and I loved it.

“Punish me. Treat me like your personal fuck toy,” I begged between moans. I resumed sucking, fucking him with my mouth.

“I love how much of a perfect slut you are. You’re so horny that you can’t even stop masturbating in the middle of the restaurant, waving at people on the highway. It’s not enough that you’re the most perfect, beautiful woman, showing up everyone else, but you just had to make dozens of people masturbate over you, didn’t you?”

His words shoved me off the cliff; my essence dove into the sea of lusty bliss, another orgasm ripping through my body. I lost all sense of reality, with my vision fading and my mind retreating. I literally had cum my brains out. When I came to, he was holding my convulsing body in his arms, keeping me from falling backward.

The patch of ground I’d knelt over was slightly darkened with my cunt’s juices. That made me laugh.

“Look how wet you’ve made me. Now, fuck me. Please fucking fuck me. I need it, want it. Fuck me like a savage. Fucking own me!”

As soon as that hard, massive cock parted my slutty petals and entered my aching cunt, I came again. Due to his size, he’s very patient and gentle. I was having none of that. I wrapped my quivering thighs around his sexy torso and pulled him inside me with all the force I could muster. Given my horny state, it was a lot of strength.

A gentleman always pleases his lady, and my husband definitely gave me what I wanted. He pounded me with savage fury, denting the ground with his force. Still, I needed it deeper, harder, and more violently.

“Fuck your slut. Make me cum. Fucking shoot your cum all over my face. I want it on my face. Oh fucking fuck, I love your cock.”

I don’t know how many times he made me orgasm, but it was multiple multiples. For a brief, joyous eternity, I was just one huge erogenous zone, being stroked, fucked, fingered, and licked into one long, extended orgasm. He fucked me so long that I was growing exhausted, so hard that my pussy began to hurt. Still, I needed more.

“Do you still want me to cum on your face? I’m going to cum.”

I could only roar and wail like a banshee in response. I did, however, manage, mid-orgasm, to pull my seizure-consumed body off his cock and point his throbbing member at my lips. The cum I needed, the sticky, white goodness I craved, shot from his manhood and painted my lips, chin, and cheeks. Then, I moaned in satisfaction, my mouth seeking his cock, licking his seed off of it, worshiping the man and his long, thick shaft that always gives me the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.

He knows me through and through. From the very first moment we met, he saw all of me and loved it. Even now, what seems like a lifetime later, he’s nothing but perfect for me. But, at that moment, he was my sexual god, only worthy of worship and praise. 

“Were you tempted by those sluts hitting on you?” I said as he held me. “You know how pissed off I get when other women are like that.”

“What other women? My eyes see only the perfection that is you. My heart only beats for you. You are my everything.”

“Well, you promised your ‘everything’ that you’d cover her in cum. I want you to cum on my spanked, married ass next.”

“As you wish.”

With that, my perfect man lifted my sweaty, dirt-covered, nude body off the ground, and he carried me toward the house. He paused, kissing my cum-soaked lips gently.

“I love everything about you,” he said.

The fact that he had no reservations about kissing me with cum on my face melted my heart and set my loins ablaze once more. My tongue snaked out, licking his cum off his face.

“And I love you so much that my friends wish I’d shut up about it already. But, for now, I need you to fuck me harder.”

This is my life, my normal. I don’t know how or why I ended up like this, but both my wildest dreams and fantasies are in a constant state of fulfillment. There’s just something about him celebrating all of me that revs me up. I can’t look at the man without getting wet; I cannot speak to him without knowing the correct response is, “Fuck me,” and, no matter what I do or with whom, he acts like he’s been ripped right out of the pages of one of mom’s romance novels and looks like the cover model. I don’t deserve him, as he’s much too good for me. However, until he figures that out, I’ll take it.

The End.