When I met my husband mid way through my senior year of high school he had just moved to the area and knew nothing of my past reputation. The slut, the whore, the skank, all the nasty cruel terms kids use to describe the girl who starts having sex early and hadn't learned self control yet. All accurate i suppose, but hurtful none the less. We dated for a only a short time after graduation before marrying and all the while I lived in fear he'd find out my secrets and cast me aside like so much trash. Trash is what I often felt like after re-imagining, during sex, the events that began when my father passed away and my mother, sister and I moved in with a recently divorced friend of hers, her daughter and three boys in order to lighten the financial burden on us all. Not because I didn't enjoy and encourage the sexual escapades I found myself in, I certainly did, but because I had these terrible secrets I was keeping from my husband.
We'd been married almost three years and I'd convinced myself I was in the clear and my secrets were safe when the careless slip of an alcohol loosened tongue of my "sister" caused things to begin unraveling; Soon my husband began asking questions. At first I tried to dismiss Sarah's comments as drunken blather, while I beat back the urge growing in me to spill the beans and relieve myself of all the pent up guilt and shame, but he wasn't buying it. Eventually I decided to soft-sell him, give him a PG version of some small snipit to quell his curiosity and hope that would end it. "When we were growing up" I said "our families were pretty casual about nudity and stuff around the house, you know like we are, so when we started to get curious about sex we experimented with each other. Like a lot of kids do."
"Why didn't you ever mention it before, why the big secret?" he followed.
*phew* that wasn't so bad, I thought as he seemed to accept my explanation shrugging his shoulders and nodding his head as he returned to reading his paper.
The next weekend I didn't even notice that as we'd settled in for an evening alone he'd mixed an extra stiff cocktail or three for me and my brain was pretty scrambled by the time we made our way to the bedroom. As we began our routine, which often began with us fucking missionary style, my husband shocked me to attention when he growled that he wanted to hear about the experiments I'd told him about. My heart stopped as I froze like a cornered animal. Is this a trick I thought, does he know something, did I do something that made him aware that I was thinking about my past while we were having sex? Clearly he'd planned to disarm me and get my secrets and the combination of the booze and passions already aroused inside were conspiring to make me answer.
After a bit more urging on his part I began to tell him of my first encounter, the night my blood sister, mother and her friend had gone out to a school function and left me with my "new" sister and her brothers. I told him how the boys had put one of the scrambled adult cable channels on the TV revealing just enough on the screen too give the five of us some naughty suggestions. I described how the boys convinced us to touch their penises and eventually put them in our mouths. Not sure how he'd react I tried to make it all sound very innocent and non-threatening as possible.
His reaction was not what I was expecting as he was now breathing more heavily and fucking me with more intensity than he had in awhile. I decided to push it a little further and told him how the oldest boy, Scott, had retrieved a jar of petroleum jelly from the bathroom and after slathering it on his dick convinced my sister and I to take turns stroking it until he lurched in pleasure and a tiny squirt of white goo oozed out of the end as he panted.
"Yes, all of them." I stated rather matter of factly. "Are you sure you want to hear this?" I asked one last time. He was done talking, and could only manage a grunt as he shook his head yes and began fucking me faster and harder. I began describing in vague terms how my faux siblings and I screwed any chance we got and did shockingly kinky things for people our age. About the first time one of the boys fucked my ass because we saw pictures of it in a porn magazine Scott he'd gotten from a friend and shared with us, about the time they'd learned about double penetration and each took a turn at a different position fucking Sarah and I raw and about the times Sarah and I were face down each others pussies while one of the boys fucked us from behind. "I was the complete slut as teenager and I loved it!" I declared to him as he rode me more aggressively with each word I uttered.
I began to fill in some details, like my favorite adventures being an unplanned threesome in the wooded area of a local park in the middle of the day while others watched from a distance, which of the boys had the biggest cock and how even though it hurt I felt a strange, dirty sense of accomplishment when I'd let him get it all they way in my ass and cum deep inside me on occasion and how much I enjoyed when Sarah came under my mouth but I'd only do it if one of the boys was fucking me at the same time. He seemed to fall into a trance methodically jamming my pussy with his angry, throbbing cock as we fucked longer than we ever had before.
The more I talked the harder his cock got and wetter I became, the harder and wetter we became the more graphic my utterings became. The series of smaller orgasms that I was experiencing didn't even distract me from continuing my slutty confessions. I was just about to tell him there was even more, worse yet, about the parties Scott threw when we got older where beer and taking turns fucking me were the main attraction that prompted a few of friends to pay to attend, but just as I began he exploded inside me letting out a primal howl as he did.
His grunting and thrusting as he emptied what seemed like boiling liquid into me and setting off a crushing wave of pleasure that washed over me as I contemplated the story he just missed hearing, the others I wanted to tell him, as I experienced the most mind numbing and excruciatingly delicious orgasm I'd ever felt. The kind only a clean conscience and nine inch cock can deliver.
He collapsed into me and we lay quite for long time it seemed and as my lustful thoughts abated I wondered what the consequences would be. Had I gone to far I worried, told too much, too soon? I knew it was too much to hope for that he'd revel in my whorish antics as a young girl the way I did in my private moments, but could he get past it? As I lay there I considered that I could lie and say it was all made up to satisfy his fantasy, the product of my over stimulated imagination, but I knew Sarah or somebody would slip up again, the truth would come out eventually and a lie now would just make it worse. That and I was tired of being ashamed of who I was and the feelings I had - it was in his hands now.
That night ended just as any other we'd been together would have and nota word was said about my revelations. I thought sure over the following days the hammer would drop, and I'd have to deal with an insecure husband who was suddenly repulsed by me, but I was wrong. Not a word was said until the next time we were intimate and he asked to hear more, a request I gladly fulfilled. My wildest hopes were exceeded as my husband's response to his little whore of a wife has been overwhelmingly positive.
I've told him every filthy secret about me even about the times when we were dating, but not yet married, that I'd fuck one or more of my "brothers" just before or after I'd been with him for the thrill of it. He takes it all in and each story makes his appetite for me more insatiable.
He did eventually tell me a few secrets of his own; for instance he wasn't as ignorant of my past when we met as I had thought. Some of theh guys who'd attended Scott's parties where I was the featured attraction tried to warn him about me and our freaky family after they'd seen us talking in the high school hallways. I can only imagine the confusion of the little hypocrites when he didn't heed their advice to "hit" and dump me. Instead he resolved in his mind to making me his dirty little wife. He also wonders if there's a delicate way to relive some of the past with him as a participant without damaging the relationships we have with my family.
I sure hope there is.
TO BE CONTINUED:
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