***HALEY***

I woke up, startled, until I remembered Paul and I were in SF and we’d come for the weekend. Then I remembered last night. He’d screwed me twice, and I’d begged him to teach me what Carl hadn’t, apparently couldn’t.

I hadn’t needed to do that; I’m sure I could have gotten him to show me. Carl hadn’t, but…Paul? He would with just a little prompting.

Paul was stirring, uncovered, with his cock half-hard. He turned, kissed me, and pinched my nipples before saying, “I want you again, Haley.”

I touched his cock, and it reacted exactly right. It got hard and stiff.

That’s when he pulled my face to his cock so I could lick it. “Lick it, then take it in your mouth; I want you to get me off again. This time I want you to taste it.”

I licked the tip, tasted the drop off it, and then slowly engulfed it with my mouth. I heard the smile in his voice saying, “Haley, yes, that’s what I want—your mouth—take as much as you can.”

I tried to take more and got about half. I tried to loosen my throat and tried again. Each time, a little farther. I wanted it all, so I kept trying until I felt his balls against my chin. I had to pull back to breathe, but my lips were tight against his cock each time. 

“That's amazing, Haley; you’re getting more than anyone has. Keep doing that. Do it with your lips…God, Haley.”

I felt his cock harden and then pulse, and I suddenly had his semen in my mouth. This was new; I’d never tasted Carl’s like this, ever—salty, bitter, and delicious.

I’d just gotten Paul to cum in my mouth. Reading about it, it sounded disgusting, but the reality with Paul was triumph and pride. I felt his cock soften and shrink, and I let him pull out, with my lips capturing all the cum.

When Paul pulled me up, he kissed me. “That was the best…I’ve never been able to…HELL, I’ve never been in anyone’s mouth all the way like that. Haley, that was amazing.”

All I could think upon hearing that was maybe it would reduce my embarrassment.

I snuggled up to him, and he played with my tits again. This time was harder than before. The nips he did resonated all the way to my clit. “Harder, Paul, harder.”

He sucked harder with harder bites until I felt a locomotive running over me. And I came.

I lay there enjoying his hands on my tits until I became uncomfortable; I needed to pee. I didn’t want to leave him, but the body has to do what the body has to do.

In the bathroom, I started the shower and leaned out. “Want a shower?”

Half an hour later, I was drying and getting dressed. We went downstairs and had breakfast. At breakfast, we made plans for where we’d go.

I needed to get a couple of things to show Carl, so we went into the Marina District, where there were a couple of shops I knew would have something I’d like. I found something at three shops, and then Paul wanted to go to a place near Chinatown. 

It was a jewelry store, The Stag and Vixen. They had a very different collection of jewelry with a lot of suggestive items. He wanted to get me a necklace with charms. Not your normal hearts, but large hearts with words on them. they were. big enough that if you looked, you could read what they said. He got one with his name on it and charms with "fucked" and "deep throat." The necklace had a C for cuckold, an FF for face-fucked, plus an upside-down pineapple and what looked like a gold rooster, or was it a cock? He wanted me to wear mementos of what we’d done. We got those put on the necklace, but he got several additional ones, too. He gave the saleslady a list but didn't show it to me.

She was younger than me, and when she came back with the additional charms, she was blushing, and when we left, she said to Paul, “Good luck. If you get through these.”

The necklace was fairly heavy for a woman, and with the charms, it was noticeable. If anyone looked closely, I was sure they’d know what it was about. I felt conspicuous, and a few men grinned at me. The women mostly smiled or gave a thumbs up. At first I was uncomfortable, but that soon changed. They knew I was his slut; I knew I was his slut, and Paul did too. I wanted everyone to know.

We had lunch in Chinatown and then headed back to the hotel. On the way, he emphasized I was to do whatever he wanted. I was eager to return to our room and discover what other charms I could earn.

When we closed the door behind us, Paul summarily stripped me naked and tossed me on the bed. By "tossed me on the bed," I mean he tossed me. He stripped me and got a tube of something and started rubbing my ass and inserting it there.

I realized what he was doing when he started inserting it. I stiffened until he had his finger with the lube in there. “You’re going to take my ass, aren’t you? Paul, you aren’t even asking about it?”

He had my face on the mattress and my ass in the air. He put the lube on his dick while he slapped my ass a few times. Hard enough that it burned. 

“I told you to do whatever I want, didn’t I? What did you say?”

God, I realized I wouldn’t refuse him. I’d submit to anything; anything he wanted. This is what I wanted. I looked over my shoulder and hesitantly whispered, “Yes, Paul, I said I’d do anything you wanted, and I will.”

When he touched my butt, he caressed my left cheek and then my asshole, and I felt the electricity spark. This was the only time I’d ever allowed anyone to touch me there. Well, except for my doctor, and who counts doctors?

He knelt behind me, and I closed my eyes. He grasped my tits and moved up so I could feel the tip of his cock at my ass. It was taking him forever as he waited for me to relax.

“I’ll go slowly, Haley; relax. Relax.”

He pressed his cock until the bare tip was penetrating. He pulled back, and then I felt him push in more. Paul kept doing this until my ass relaxed enough, so I felt him slip inside.

“Oh God, you're doing it. I can feel it, Paul.” It was uncomfortable, but not as bad as I had feared. “Slowly, do it slowly.” 

I’m being ass fucked. He’s going to do it. God, that’s my last cherry, my ass.

“Do it; put it all the way in.” I was pressing back against his cock. “Please, I want you to do it. Cum in my ass, so I’m your slut.” Paul pulled back and in again, each time a little further. 

The pain was dissipating as my arousal built. He was gripping my tits each time he pushed in deeper. My tits and ass both hurt, but together the pain passed and turned into exhilaration.

When he was actually fucking me, the whole movement in and back out was exciting. It felt different, but good-different. I could feel it building and building. Paul was trying to hold back, but he fucked me faster and faster.

“Paul, God Paul, yes, now, I’m your slut…” I only stopped talking when I felt his cock throb. His hands gripped me even harder, and then came a slap on my butt. That extra pain flipped me over, and I tried to scream as my orgasm crashed.

He was rigid, enjoying coming until he collapsed next to me.

“Haley, you’re perfect, a perfect slut. You’ll do whatever I want, won’t you?”

I searched his face for a second before answering, “I’ve come this far, Paul. I want to be your perfect slut.”

We got up and cleaned ourselves in the bathroom. When we returned to the bedroom, I said, “Paul, I said I wanted to be your slut, and I do. I never realized how exciting it could be. I want you to p-push me; I want to be…God, Paul, I want you to make me…”

Is this what being his slut means? Wanting more, obeying him, doing anything? 

“What more do you want? Paul? Anything. You’ve had, um, used sluts before. Are there, Paul, things you’ve wanted, things?” I knelt in front of him, looking up.

I heard myself saying things; I may have to back up. Be careful. Or not; the way I felt now, I’d let him do all kinds of things.

Paul hesitated before saying, “I’ve wanted to write on my slut's body, skin, uh, where they can’t be seen exactly. Uh, mostly. I want everyone we meet to know you’re my slut.” He took a deep breath and said, “Haley, take my cock and make me cum on your face.” 

When I felt his first spurts on my face, I convulsed. I was his slut. I was Carl’s husband but Paul’s slut.

***PAUL***

Sunday morning, I was enjoying holding Haley’s tits, remembering when just the possibility of this was a fantasy I never expected to enjoy. Then, Carl shared his fantasy, God, of watching me with her, us screwing so he could watch; it almost made me cum. Shit, almost. Hell, I did cum a little.

He said he thought he’d convinced her but was embarrassed about going further than talking about it. 

Now, she wanted to be my slut; her words, my slut. Well, I didn’t know if Carl agreed with her, but who was I to stop her? We'd already made a good start, but she wanted even more.

When she woke, we lay there together while I was thinking about Carl, Haley, yesterday, and what Haley wanted.

She said she wanted more; she wanted to feel like my slut. Did she hear what I’d suggested? Could I do it? Carl wanted to see me screw Haley. Is this something he’d agree to if he knew about it? We’re going far beyond anything he’d talked about. Haley wants it; that should be enough. Right?

After breakfast, I decided to go to Golden Gate Park. I wanted to revisit the rainforest at the Science Academy, which Haley had never seen. Plus, there were private areas where we could do all kinds of erotic things. I remembered taking Ashya there and what we'd done. There are lots of private places if you're willing to take a little risk.

After we visited the center of the attractions, we went looking for that private spot off the main paths. The part I was most looking forward to.

When I found one, I said, “You want to prove you’re my slut? This is your last chance before going home to Carl. Show him who you really are.”

I saw Haley flinch; she hadn’t even thought about what we’d done, the evidence we’d left behind. She’d enjoyed it too much to think about the evidence he’d see. It was clear she was realizing what Carl would see when she got home. It took a few minutes before she said, "You're right, I want him to know. What..."

I interrupted. "Haley, I'm going to strip you naked and then remember I told you I wanted to write on you, on your tits and your cunt, telling us that you’re a slut, my slut. You can stop me, but you have to say no.” I took a breath and added, “You won’t be able to hide this from Carl, you know that. He’s a cuckold now, and he wanted that. It’s too late to be objecting now.”

***HALEY***

I’d told him I’d let him write on me, on my tits, all over me. That I’m his slut. It’s a lot further than Carl said he wanted, but it’s what I want. Right, Haley? He’s my cuckold, and I’m in charge. Carl’ll have to deal with it.

“Do it, Paul; write on me. I want Carl to know what he’s done. I’m your slut, um, Paul, but not just yours.”

He started caressing me, writing on my skin, on my tits. “Bite me” and “Suck me.”

Over my pussy Paul wrote, “Deposit your cum here, in your slut.”

When he was through, he’d written all over me. Telling him everything we’d done. Then he put my arms around a tree and fucked me one more time from behind. 

That’s when he told me that Carl knew I was with him all weekend and I needn’t pretend I'd been with

When we got back to town, we stopped at Chloe’s house so I could fulfill my promise to share the details and pick up my car.

I spent over an hour with Chloe telling her what we’d been doing and thanking her for her support. Luckily, Simon, her husband, wasn’t home, so I could show off what Paul had written on me. Her reaction when I showed it off to her was shock. I reveled in her reaction. It was beyond anything she’d ever considered.

I drove home to Carl, not sure what my reception would be. I was thinking that letting tomorrow take care of itself might have been a mistake.

I walked in and found Carl waiting for me in the living room.

“Carl, I’m sorry, but…”

He stopped me with a raised hand and said, “I know where you were, with Paul.”

I stopped him. “Yes, with Paul, and you didn’t stop me. You wanted me to cuckold you. You said you wanted to watch. Well, you didn’t. Remember, a lot of cuckolds never do.” I paused, thinking.

Haley, maybe you can finesse this. That would be so exciting. 

“Go into the bedroom and wait for me, cuckold. You are, aren’t you? My cuckold?”

He resisted, but I insisted.

When he left, I called Paul. “I think, I think, God, Paul, I want you both together to fuck me, maybe make love to me. He’s waiting in the bedroom.”

TO BE CONTINUED