I am a slut. A posh slut, but a slut nonetheless.
I live with my husband on a 40-acre estate. He was born into money, and despite my best attempts to spend it all, we still have more money than most people could boast. I feel immensely lucky to have married into this lifestyle, slut that I am.
In fairness, I think that might be the reason why he married me…
I spend my days meeting friends, going to the spa, and making sure that the estate is running smoothly. I do have help with that, of course, but my husband likes me to keep an eye on things, especially when it comes to the people who work for us. Not many people enjoy dealing with the workforce, but I adore checking up on them to see if everything’s okay. And checking them out to see if I think they’re okay. And by that, I mean checking out whether I’d want to fuck any of them.
My lovely husband is away a lot with work, sometimes for weeks at a time. We’ve been married for ten years now, very happily. He’s a bit older than me, but when we met, we really clicked. He said that I was the first woman he’d ever met whom he knew he couldn’t let go. I adored him from the start—especially as he seemed to revel in the fact that I am such a slut.
A little while ago, a deliciously sexy plan began to form in my mind as I was doing my usual rounds of the estate. I discussed it with my husband, who was totally on board with the idea, adding another titillating dimension to it all. The thought of me telling him how the plan worked outplayed over and over in my mind, soaking my pants as I went from kitchen to stable to garage in the following weeks.
In truth, I had considered the plan for a while before I told him. It was a gorgeous sexy secret I had devised, and it lived in my mind rent-free, thrusting its salacious little head between my legs at the most inappropriate times: at the gym, while shopping, at lunch, anywhere. It made me wet immediately and pounded at my pussy so insistently that no matter where I was, I had to find a quiet place to wank. My fingers stroking my throbbing clit and slipping in and out of my drenched cunt as quickly as possible, so I could rejoin lunch/shopping/whatever I’d been doing at that point. Sometimes it would steal up on me when I was alone, which meant that I could spend a wonderful hour spreadeagled on my enormous bed, naked and sweaty. Holes filled with toys, and my palms and fingertips sweeping gently over my swelling nipples as I gave myself up to the fantasy I was planning to make a reality.
And you know me. I’m the kind of woman who gets what she wants…
The kitchen, stable and garage yielded fruit for me in a way I could never have dreamed possible when I first came up with the idea. I assembled a team of three men to help me carry out my plan, one from each building that I explored.
Now whilst I am indeed a slut, and had spent ages fantasising about my plan and bringing it together. I knew that this amazing dream could only work in the real world with informed consent and lashings of seduction. So when I put my idea to the (exceptionally) hot guys in question, I ensured that they knew there was no obligation to accept my offer and that their jobs would be safe whether they agreed or declined. I also made sure that they were single as well as easy to look at. The other thing that was non-negotiable for me was their hands: they had to be broad, strong, and agile. During my ‘research’, I studied how they used their hands so I could imagine what they would look like on my heaving breasts, my trembling stomach—and of course, I had to see them use the tools of their trade before I decided whether I wanted them to slide their other tool into me.
So I spent time watching them work, visiting a few times and forging a warm connection with them. I wore clothes that made their eyes sparkle when we talked and always made sure there was a little bit of exposed flesh on show to keep them wanting more. I’m a beautiful woman with a flat stomach, tight ass and beautiful tits, and I could see that the guys struggled to keep their eyes from wandering. It made my pussy tighten and moisten. I was post sult sex on legs.
Obviously, I’m The Boss’s wife, so it was only when I invited them into the study for interview that I revealed The Plan in all its detail. That I was enlisting three willing, discreet men to participate in a sexual encounter with me—all at once. The guy from the kitchen and the groomsman looked a little bit taken aback at first, but the mechanic grinned at me as if he’d been expecting this all along. He was the one I wanted inside me; first, I decided.
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And despite a brief moment of surprise from them initially, I’m delighted to say that all three of them were flattered and delighted to have been selected for interview.
When I say I ‘interviewed’ them, what I really mean is that I politely requested that each man take his clothes off while I ran my hand over their chest, down their taut stomach and over their already thickening cock. It helped that my bare boobs were revealed to them, and my other hand gently cupped their balls.
I had planned the tryst to the last detail, and all the guys were happy to follow it as planned. No man would touch another—this experience was to be all about me—and there would be no kissing of any kind. I loved the intimacy of kissing my husband, and it was important that he, and they, knew that. It meant that even as I told him the story of how I had been sucked and fucked relentlessly by strange men (and loved it), there was a place for us that only we knew.
I had envisaged The Plan being a one-off experience, one that would fulfil my sluttish desires once and for all. I mean, I know I’m a posh slut – sex is my mission, but there’d be no need to repeat it once we’d done it, would there?
I said this to my guys. The groomsman and the cook agreed… but the mechanic just looked me straight in the eye and smiled.
Maybe the mechanic knew me better than I knew myself in that moment, because yesterday was the fifth time that the four of us had got together in my husband’s study. I have to say that these meetings make my husband’s business trips much easier to bear for both of us, and I love hearing his breath thicken over the phone as I tell him all about it. Apparently, listening to me tell him what happens in his study when he’s away makes my husband’s business trips more enjoyable, so he tells me…
I took a seat, my body already quivering with anticipation beneath my black lingerie. I wore a red satin dressing gown and the set of pearls that my husband bought me for an anniversary present just so he knows that I’m thinking of him as I get taken by these three gorgeous men. They are no longer strangers, but I don’t really know them either or anything about their lives outside of this room. All I know is that they have lovely faces, amazing bodies and know how to fuck me—and that’s all I need.
So I sat back and was handed a dry vodka martini. I always smile as I take a sip, feeling the alcohol burn my throat as I swallow. I popped an olive into my mouth, which reminded me that something even more luscious was going to be in my mouth fairly soon.
Finishing the martini is like my ringing a bell—a signal to the men for my slut servicing to begin. And I couldn’t wait.
I wish I could adequately describe to you how delicious it all felt… a hand slid over the nape of my neck, down my shoulder and swept across my chest, the palm gently tracing the contours of my boobs through the black cups of my bustier. Electricity sizzled through me at the touch, especially when another, different hand appeared and joined in, gently pulling the gown from my shoulders.
My face was stroked tenderly, and as part of me sank into the utter pleasure of all the sensations, another part awakened, thrilling to the reality of what was happening.
I was surrounded by three naked men, and all of them were touching me. They stroked my thighs, my hair, and now started to play with my tits. A couple of erect cocks grazed my arms from time to time as they went to work on me. All of these men were here for me, ready to fulfil my every desire. My pussy quivered deep within me, and I sighed delightedly, my nipples hardening beneath their expert fingers.
I relaxed into their strong hands. A pair of them caressed my neck while the other two continued to cup me teasingly. I smiled up at them, kissing the hands and fingers—they all smelled different, of different lives, lives they had put on hold for a moment of sexual excitement with me.
I slipped two of the baker’s thick fingers into my soaking wet mouth before guiding it down to the gusset of my panties, my hands enjoying the feel of them pushing against my already swollen labia. The second time I put them in my mouth, I made sure they were nice and slick, and they slipped into my aching pussy with ease. The others had released my swelling breasts from their cups, my nipples tight and erect beneath their palms, and I moaned as the walls of my vagina tightened around the fingers inside it.
I couldn’t wait any longer. As a lover of cock, and the harder, the better, I began to suck on the baker’s erect dick as my pussy creamed onto the groom, who was fingering me and playing with my clit just the way I taught him.
It’s a truly wonderful sight to see: the moving arm of a man who knows how to finger-fuck you while your nipples are getting stretched by two others. I felt close to orgasm but didn’t want this moment to end. My moans of pleasure resounded in my ears, and I revelled in the fact that the men were obediently keeping silent, so I could bask in my own physical responses to them. My plan. My boy toys. My hardening tits. My tightening, wet snatch. My heart pounding. The moans of a cock-hungry slut, who wants more sex.
The guys knew I was close, and they knew what to do. The groom and the baker leaned against my husband’s desk, dicks standing at attention and ready for me to suck. I rose from my chair, so I could lap at each one in turn, grasping them in my hands and stroking their bollocks before I sank back down and filled my hole with the mechanic’s huge shaft.
Now that there was a hard cock wedged in my wet pussy, I really started to enjoy myself. I rode that penis hard, undulating and writhing on it, sliding myself up and down it hungrily. I wanted to devour every inch of it with my insatiable, drooling pussy, and I could feel it thickening inside me as I gyrated on it. Ground myself on it.
And I still had two other cocks in my hands, my demanding palms closed over the hot, hard erections. I had three hard-ons under my control, and the realisation of that made my head spin and my mouth water. All these cocks, just for me. It was a thrill like no other. I gobbled one of the cocks down my throat, barely savouring the taste of its glistening tip. I was so hungry for it.
I mean, can you imagine? A well-to-do lady like me, married to an upstanding member of the community, gorging herself on two hard dicks while she gets fucked by a third? Because that’s what was happening. I alternated between sucking off the two strangers now, so delirious with lust that I couldn’t choose which one to have in my mouth first.
The groomsman tore himself away from my mouth, and in what seemed like one movement, the mechanic slipped out of me, leaving my cunt feeling empty and desperate for more. Gently but forcefully, the groom pushed me forward, and I found myself splayed on the desk on my hands and knees to take another cock in my hole. I thought of my husband as the groom began to slip in and out of my wet vaj. How turned on, he would be as I told him what had happened. How turned on I would be, describing the whole delicious experience, knowing he was rubbing himself as I breathed every detail into his ear. I took the baker’s tool in my mouth again, giving myself up to the two cocks ramming me from either end.
I knew that I couldn’t last much longer, and again, the baker knew this. How lucky I was to have recruited such gorgeous men who genuinely paid attention to how I was feeling, how I was responding. I had released his cock and laid myself out on the desk, arms outstretched, my arse up in the air to make sure I took every inch that the groom was thrusting into me. I pressed my chest into the desk, the cool dark wood inflaming my breasts. The baker sat at the far end of the table, taking my hands in his. His eyes burned into my face, watching my expression change as I felt the waves of an orgasm begin to lap through me. The groom didn’t stop grinding his cock into me. I clenched and shook on him, steadied by the hands of the baker and the mechanic, who was tenderly caressing my back as the waves crashed and ebbed away.
The groom was still inside me, still fucking me, as I turned onto my back. I spread my legs wide for him, all semblance of classiness gone. I feel loose, satisfied, but not yet quite fulfilled in my sluttish mission—to be completely undone by these men, to show my slut side in the most obvious, and hot, way possible.
The groom pulled out of me momentarily, but only to rub his penis up and down my wet pussy from clit to hole before entering me again. He knew how to tease, and I immediately felt that I would come again, especially as I was sucking off the mechanic and jerking the baker off at the same time. It made my heart sing. I was surrounded by men. I was engaged in sex in every way that my body could be, and my body began to convulse in pleasure and pride at how dirty I was, how much pleasure I could take, how much pleasure I could give. My orgasm was vast, and I moaned, and I jerked and undulated as I rode the tremors of lust that were being set off from my pussy and exploding all over my body.
And then, it was time for the part I enjoyed the most. I lay back, my chest heaving.
The mechanic had his cock in his hand. It moved so fast over the glans of his penis that it was almost a blur. I was mesmerised, and suddenly he spurted hot cum all over my tits. I loved the sensation of it splashing on me and running down my boobs in warm rivulets, but I’d no sooner relished the sight of this when the baker was going off, too—this time in my mouth. Again, it was warm, it was thick, and it trickled off my tongue onto the side of my cheek. I circled my tongue over my lips, smearing more into my mouth, wanting more to taste.
The groom had taken himself in hand now, and for the first time today, I heard a male voice grunt as he came all over my belly. It sounded and felt amazing, especially when I felt it running around my engorged clit and down between the lips of my fanny. When a few drops reached the edge of my hole, I nearly came again myself.
I was in a reverie. I heard the men carefully step away.
I mean, what fun. Can you imagine how I must have looked lying there, outstretched on my husband’s desk, legs splayed wide open and drenched in cum? Three strangers fucking me, sucking me, cumming on me? How outrageous, how absolutely immoral and filthy.
How fucking exciting. And hot.
My pussy gave me a delicious after-tremor as I basked alone in satisfied pleasure. I felt truly fulfilled… until the craving for the next time grew inside me, as I knew it would.
Slut that I am.
The End
Read all about the wonderful author: Persephone Blackwell
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