Party balloons. Plain old latex party balloons. They’re such a ubiquitous thing that if you close your eyes, you can probably imagine their distinct scent from memory. Millions of them are sold annually, and most people use them to dress up special events. For me, however, these seemingly innocuous decorations have a whole different meaning. For me, a room full of simple party balloons led me down the path of becoming a total slut.

My name is Tina, and my story starts a couple of years ago. My husband, Jeb, was turning twenty-five. Leading up to his birthday, Jeb made it very clear that he didn’t want a lot of fanfare. He told me the best gift I could give him was a quiet, intimate night with just the two of us. This meshed really well with his super-introverted tendencies. It did not mesh well with my bubbly, outgoing, extroverted tendencies.

“Seriously?” I asked him. “You don’t want anything special for your birthday? No cake? No balloons? Nothing at all?”

His response was to chuckle and roll his eyes. “Seriously, I don’t need a thing,” he smiled. “If it’s going to drive you crazy, though, go ahead and get some balloons or something, but really, don’t go out of your way. All I really want is to be with you.”

It was terribly sweet of him to say, even if it was driving me a little crazy. In my family, we always threw massive, all-out parties, especially for birthdays. The idea of a quiet birthday at home, especially for a milestone year like this one, was absolutely foreign to me. I nodded and told him I’d keep things low-key, but in my mind I was already hatching a plan. He did say that it would be okay to get some balloons, and he didn’t really specify how many balloons constituted “some.” With this knowledge zipping around in my brain, I went to work.

A few days before Jeb’s birthday, I had everything planned. I did some math and figured out that it would take about 1,250 balloons to fill our bedroom to the brim. I called the local party store and spoke to Clay, the manager. Clay was surprisingly easy to work with, and he really seemed to get me when I told him my wild plan and how much I wanted to make this birthday special for Jeb.

We agreed it would be a bad idea to fill and transport all those balloons from his shop. Instead, Clay suggested that he bring boxes of uninflated balloons and a couple of air tanks over on the morning of Jeb’s birthday. From there, he would stick around to help me fill them up and stuff them all in the bedroom. It would probably take two or three hours from start to finish, but he was more than happy to donate his time, and I was more than happy to have the assistance. After paying over the phone, I told Clay I’d call him the morning of Jeb’s birthday as soon as the coast was clear, and we ended the call.

When the morning of Jeb’s birthday arrived, I was so excited that I could barely sleep. The instant my alarm went off, I sprang out of bed, making sure to silence it before it woke up Jeb. As quietly as I could, I padded off to the closet, dressing up in a sexy red lingerie set that Jeb loves seeing me in, and nothing else. Next, I tiptoed to the kitchen to prepare scrambled eggs and French toast—Jeb’s favorite breakfast. Finally, with breakfast in hand, I strutted back into our bedroom and gently nudged Jeb awake.

“Jeb, honey,” I began. “Wakey, wakey. I have a little morning treat for you.”

He roused, stretching and rubbing his eyes. Blinking a few times, he looked me up and down and smiled. “Well, this is quite the birthday treat,” he said with a grin.

“That’s right, stud,” I purred. “I’ve made you a little breakfast in bed, and if you’d like,” I added, gently stroking his morning wood over the blanket, “I thought maybe you could give me a little breakfast in bed, too.”

Moments later, my husband had devoured the French toast and eggs, and I was hard at work devouring his cock, putting all my effort into giving him a blowjob that would make this birthday truly memorable. He groaned and grunted as I bobbed my head up and down on his thick shaft, savoring every inch and cherishing every moment. Before long, he erupted, and I eagerly swallowed down his seed as quickly as I could.

“Oh, fuck,” Jeb groaned as I gave his cock one final lick. “Happy birthday to me.”

“You’d better believe it,” I smiled. “And one yummy treat for me. I swear you shot twice your normal load just now.”

“How could I not?” He grinned, sitting up. “I mean, look at you. You’re a walking wet dream. I bet there’s not a straight guy on earth who wouldn’t love watching you go down on a guy. Hell, I’d just about pay to see it myself.”

I laughed, giving him a little shove. “Oh, cut it out,” I grinned. “You know I’ve only got eyes for you.”

Jeb rolled his eyes, smiling mischievously. “Don’t be coy; I know somewhere deep down, there’s a naughty little slut, just waiting to come out.”

“There is,” I purred. “If you liked this morning, just wait and see what I’ve got planned for you tonight.”

A few minutes later, Jeb was heading out the door while I was digging through my wardrobe for an outfit. I decided on a cute sleeveless white blouse and a fairly short red skirt. I considered changing out of the lingerie into something a little more casual but quickly decided against it since they were surprisingly comfortable, and I’d just be changing back into them for Jeb later. Slipping into my outfit, I grabbed my phone and headed to the living room as I dialed Clay’s number.

“Clay speaking,” came the smooth, masculine voice.

“It’s Tina. The pigeon has flown the coop. I repeat, the pigeon has flown the coop.”

Clay chuckled, letting me know that he had just finished loading the air tanks in the van, and he’d be over in about twenty minutes. I was so excited that I literally jumped up and down once he got off the call. I just knew this was going to be the funnest birthday surprise Jeb ever walked in on.

My doorbell rang a few minutes later, and I darted into the living room to answer it. As I swung the door open, my jaw dropped and I froze. Standing there on my front porch was a man that had to be the sexiest male specimen I’d ever laid eyes on. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a muscular build. His short, dark hair was combed casually off to the side, perfectly accenting his warm smile. His T-shirt with the party store logo was just tight enough that I could make out his abs. Until that moment, I didn’t realize I had a “type.” Apparently I did, though, and my type was standing there, right in front of me. Taking a deep breath, I realized that everything about this man, right down to his scent, was turning me on.

“Hi,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Clay, from Party Emporium.”

After a pause that was probably a half-second too long, I finally reached out to shake his hand. “Oh, um, hi,” I stuttered, trying to collect myself. “I’m Tina. Thanks so much for doing this. I’m really excited.”

“I can tell,” he grinned. I couldn’t help but notice his eyes briefly scanning up and down my figure. “What do you say I go get the first couple air cylinders from the van, and we get started?”

I nodded, and as Clay turned to head to the van parked in my driveway, I couldn’t help but admire his toned body. “Fuck,” I muttered silently. I found myself thinking that if I wasn’t a happily married woman, I’d be all over this guy in ten seconds flat. Everything about him just pushed every one of my buttons.

A moment later, Clay brought the first two air cylinders into the house. Because it made sense to fill the balloons in the bedroom, I led him through the house and into my room.

“You’ve got a pretty house,” Clay smiled. “It definitely matches the owner.”

“Thanks,” I smiled brightly at the compliment. Clay handed me a box of balloons, unscrewed the covers from the air tanks, and gave me a quick primer on how to use them.

Clay struck up a conversation as we started filling balloons, and in no time at all we were bantering like lifelong friends. He was definitely an extrovert like me, I realized. As our conversation flowed, I found myself laughing at his jokes and enraptured by his stories. I remember thinking that this guy was way too good-looking and personable to be a party store manager.

After a while, I started picking up hints that Clay might have a little crush on me. It was subtle, but I’d notice the way he checked me out, or even the tone in his voice. At one point, when I went to knock some balloons over to the other side of the room, I could see him in the mirror, checking out my ass. If I’m being honest, I found it cute and harmless. After all, I was sort of crushing on him, too.

To our credit, we managed to avoid flirting overtly and kept the conversation platonic. At least for a little while. Gradually, the conversation took on a more flirty tone. A little compliment here. A little wink there. It was subtle, but it was definitely building up, just like my arousal every time I cast my eyes on the Adonis helping me fill these balloons.

When Clay brought in the next set of air cylinders, the sexual tension between us really started to escalate. “Those things look so heavy,” I told him as he hauled the tanks into the bedroom. “It’s a good thing you’re so ripped.”

“Job perk,” he grinned. “I’m getting workouts like this every day. If you think these air tanks are heavy, wait until you try and lift a crate full of greeting cards.”

I giggled at Clay’s joke but stopped when I caught him giving me a strange look. “What?”

“Your hair,” he said with a smirk.

Turning away from him, I glanced in the bedroom mirror, and my eyes went wide. “Oh my God,” I laughed. The static charge from filling a few hundred balloons had built up, causing several strands of hair to stand straight up off my head. I tried running my fingers through my hair to force it back down, but it just kept flying back up.

“No worries,” Clay said, reaching into his pocket and retrieving what looked like a small white piece of cloth. “I’ve got this.” He stepped up to me, and for the briefest of moments, our eyes met. He brought his hand up to my scalp and used the small scrap of material to run his fingers through my hair. I found my eyes shutting, and I let out a little sigh as he worked his magic.

“What is that?” I managed to ask as he continued working his way through my hair.

“Homemade dryer sheet,” he replied. “Works every time.”

“You make your own dryer sheets? Wow, what else do you do?”

“I’m also a part-time knight in shining armor,” he said in a tone that could have melted butter as he finished running his fingers through my hair. “There, back to your original, beautiful self.”

I opened my eyes and turned to look into the mirror again. Sure enough, my hair looked just as lovely as it had earlier, its long blonde locks having returned to their proper place. I turned back to Clay, smiling brightly as our eyes met once more. “Oh, my hero,” I joked in my best medieval accent. “Tell me, brave knight, what payment dost thou require of thy fair maiden?”

“M’lady,” he said, imitating my own accent and making me giggle, “all thy humble servant requests is a simple kiss.”

“Ha ha. Nice try, dork. Now get back to work and help me fill up these balloons.”

That’s what I should have said, anyway. I should have put the brakes on that conversation then and there. I should have reminded him that we were here, working on a surprise for my husband. Hell, maybe I should have just asked him to leave. I mean, who asks an obviously married woman for a kiss?

There were a lot of things I should have done. Instead, I found my heart fluttering as I looked into Clay’s eyes. They were so deep. So sexy. All the subtle flirting and little glances caught up with me in a heartbeat. As we stared into each other’s eyes, I gulped. He wanted more. I wanted more. I could feel it in the air, and in that moment I couldn’t seem to stop myself from reaching out and taking it.

“A kiss?” I continued in my accent as we smiled at each other like a couple of teenagers. “Well, if a kiss is thy payment, then a kiss thou shalt receive.”

I stepped in closer, tilted my head slightly, and gently pressed my lips against his before either of us could think twice. As our lips met, it felt like a million fireworks went off in my brain. Jeb and I had been sweethearts since middle school. I’d never so much as kissed another man in my life before this moment, and I was woefully underprepared for how utterly magnificent it was. Kissing Clay was so different—and, at the same time, so amazing. The feeling of his lips against mine. The stubble on his face. The smell of his cologne. It all blended together into something incredible. Something I wanted more of.

Before I could stop myself, that first kiss melted into a second, then a third. In a moment, I found myself moaning into Clay’s mouth as my lips parted and our tongues began to dance. I knew this was wrong, but I couldn’t stop. Clay’s kisses were so magical, so sensual. All I wanted was to keep going— to see how far this path would take me.

Soon, our hands began exploring each other’s bodies. As I let my fingers trace up and down Clay’s muscular back, I felt his hands doing the same, exploring my back, squeezing my ass, and turning me on all the more. Clay shifted, and suddenly my back was up against the wall as we made out. I let out a groan as I felt his bulge pressing against my abdomen for the first time. I could tell he was huge, and I knew that I wanted to see it with my own eyes.

It wasn’t long before our clothes began hitting the floor. I tugged at his shirt, pulling it higher and higher until he took control, stripping it from his athletic frame. My blouse was the next thing to go, lost to the floor as we made out like long-lost lovers. My skirt was next, leaving me in nothing but the lingerie set that I’d picked out for my husband earlier that morning. Finally, I found my fingers wrapping around the waistband of his khaki shorts and underwear. As I started tugging down, Clay took a step back, giving me enough space to drop down to my knees in front of him.

Inch by inch, I pulled down the shorts, revealing my prize. As more and more of his stiff member came into view, I found my pussy gushing with arousal. I was right; Clay was absolutely hung. With one final tug, his shorts fell to the floor, and the longest, girthiest cock I’d ever seen sprung fully into view. Almost involuntarily, I found myself leaning forward, my eyes drawn up and down the thick, veiny shaft. Just like everything else involving Clay, it was absolutely perfect.

With my lips so close to his cock that I was sure he could feel my breath, I let my eyes flick back up to meet his for a moment. I gave him a little smile, as if to say that I hoped he enjoyed what was about to happen next. Training my eyes back on the shaft before me, I leaned in closer, extending my tongue and giving him a little lick. I followed that lick with another lick, this time running his entire length.

After a couple more passes, I couldn’t wait any longer. I brought my lips up against his cockhead, and I pushed forward, taking him into my mouth. He let out a little groan, giving me all the encouragement I needed. Clay was so massive that I couldn’t take him all in my mouth. It was such a different experience from the blowjob I’d given my husband earlier that morning. Different, but hotter than anything I’d ever experienced in my life.

Once I’d plunged down on him as far as I could, I slowly began bobbing up and down on his cock, taking him as deep as possible again and again. Over and over, I gagged myself on his cock, loving every single sensation. I’d always enjoyed blowjobs with Jeb, but this was an experience from a league of its own. I knew I should have felt guilty for what I was doing, but instead, I just heard Jeb’s words from that morning, “There’s a naughty little slut just waiting to come out.”

Soon, I picked up the pace, slamming down on Clay faster and faster. I groaned on his cock and used one hand to massage his balls. Clay let out a satisfied moan, and I knew I was driving him wild. I felt his hand come up against my scalp, taking a handful of my hair and using it as a handle, pumping me faster and deeper on his cock. I gagged and choked, loving every second of how he’d begun roughly using me. It was so hot, so primal.

Clay started groaning loudly, and I could tell he was getting close. In that moment, all I wanted was to taste his seed, to feel him erupt into my mouth. I screamed and grunted at him, doing all I could to help him along, to make him come, and to be his good little slut. A moment later, Clay gave one last groan, pulled me onto his cock, and rewarded me with my prize. As he erupted, I swallowed hard, taking blast after blast of his thick, hot cum down my throat. He came and came, giving me the single largest load of my life. I found it too much to swallow; some of it flowed from my mouth, running down my chin and dripping onto the carpet beneath me. Clay let go of my hair, and I backed off his cock, looking him in the eyes as I scooped up the globs of cum off my chin and shoveled them into my mouth.

“Mmmh, yummy,” I purred. “What next?”

“The bed,” he commanded.

In an instant I scurried to my feet, flinging myself onto the bed and sending balloons flying. Clay smiled, picking up a few balloons and bouncing them back at me, causing me to laugh as I lay there. A moment later, he climbed up into the bed with me, sending the remaining balloons scattering as he leaned in, kissing me hard on the neck. I let out a moan as he kissed my neck again and again. I knew he was likely leaving marks, but I was too far gone to care. All I really wanted was to feel him inside me.

“What do you want?” Clay groaned into my ear between kisses.

“Oh, fuck. I want you,” I groaned.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Say it again,” he demanded.

“Oh, God. Fuck me, Clay. Fuck my slutty pussy.”

I felt Clay’s hand snake down to my panties, pulling them aside and rubbing his fingers up and down my mound. I whimpered as he continued his ministrations, parting my folds and spreading my juices with his digits. As he continued working my pussy, his lips found mine, and we embarked on a round of passionate kissing. I groaned into his mouth as one of his fingers stroked my clit, sending tingles throughout my body. He stroked my clit again, moving back and forth over it, drawing me deeper and deeper into my bliss.

Just as I was on the cusp of reaching my orgasm, his hand pulled away. I let out a little whimper of protest as we continued making out, but it soon became apparent what was happening. Without breaking our kiss, Clay repositioned himself, maneuvering his body so he was on top of me and his cock was pressed directly against my panties. He was already hard again, and I knew exactly what was coming next.

Clay pulled my panties aside once more, pushing himself against me so I could feel his cock against my pussy lips. He ground into me a few times, rubbing up against my needy slit. Each time, I felt him brush against my entrance, and I knew it was only a matter of moments before Clay became the second man ever to fuck me. After one final rub up against my slit, Clay lined himself up at my entrance, pushed forward, and started slipping inside me.

For the rest of my life, I’ll never forget what it felt like the first time Clay buried himself in me. I was no stranger to sex, but this was something like never before. I’d never felt so stretched, so completely full. He hadn’t done anything other than bury his cock inside me, and already the experience was more exhilarating than anything I’d ever experienced.

As if this wasn’t enough, he then pulled back, withdrawing until his tip was just barely inside me, and then forcefully thrust down into me. I broke off our kiss, crying out in pleasure as I felt him fill me up once more. A second, equally breathtaking thrust soon followed that first one. Soon another came, followed by another. I was in ecstasy, moaning and babbling nonsense as he picked up the pace, fucking me faster and harder. I dug my fingernails into his back, crying in pleasure and begging for more. Clay obliged, impossibly fucking me harder and faster.

“Fuck, yes!” I screamed. “Yes, Clay! Fuck me!”

Clay grunted, slamming himself into me over and over as one of his hands found my tits, squeezing and groping them as though he were an animal in heat, lost in the lust of pounding his mate with all the energy he could muster. I clenched my eyes shut. I could feel my arousal peaking, and I knew my orgasm was coming closer. I begged him for more. I begged him to use me. I begged him to fuck my slutty married pussy.

Just as I was on the brink of coming, something made me open my eyes, some sense that I was being watched. As Clay fucked me harder than I had ever been fucked in my life, my eyes shifted to the doorway, where I saw Jeb, standing amidst a pile of balloons, a look of shock and something else on his face as he watched us rut.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, Jeb had decided to come back home for a birthday lunch with his wife. After parking behind the party store van, he entered the house and followed the primal sounds to where I was now, being mercilessly fucked by a man he’d never met before in his life.

As I looked him in the eyes with Clay still fucking me like an animal, everything went off in my brain, and the most powerful orgasm of my life ravaged my body. I started screaming in pleasure, tears running down my face as I spasmed uncontrollably on the cock filling me up with expert precision. A moment later, Clay grunted, burying himself inside me as he erupted, filling me with his seed, all while my husband watched on.

As I lay there, coming down from my orgasm with Clay on top of me panting, my mind spun. What had I done? Holy fuck, what had I just done? It was Jeb’s birthday, for fuck’s sake, and he just caught me having the best sex of my life with a total stranger. How would I explain this?

What would Jeb do? Was this it for our marriage? I looked over at Jeb, frozen, waiting for him to react. Little did I know, I was about to experience the greatest shock of my life.

“Wow,” Jeb said after what felt like an eternity. Much to my surprise, his voice didn’t sound angry. It sounded more like he was awestruck.

As soon as Clay registered my husband’s voice, he jumped, rapidly shifting off me to see the source of the noise.

“Oh, God, you two,” Jeb spoke, putting his hands up as if to reassure us. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Don’t feel like you have to stop on my account. Honey, did you do all this for me?”

I looked over at Clay, sharing a look of confusion before my head turned back to my husband. “Wh, what?” I found myself asking, still not entirely sure that I hadn’t just torpedoed my entire marriage.

“This is incredible,” Jeb replied, his voice still in awe. “I mean, for all the times I told you about how hot it would be to see you with other guys, I guess I’d always assumed that you figured I was just joking. I never thought you’d actually do it. Seriously, I’ve never been so turned on in my life. This really is my best birthday ever.”

I came to find out that Jeb had always fantasized about sharing me with other men. While he’d mentioned it before, he was right—I had always assumed he was joking. He wasn’t, though, and through pure chance, my encounter with Clay turned out to be exactly what Jeb had always wanted. His dream was having a slutty hotwife, and without realizing it, I’d given him just that.

Today, I’m happy to say that our marriage is still going strong. That encounter opened up so many new doors for me. In the last two years, I can’t count how many times I’ve had another man inside me. Sometimes Jeb watches. Other times, I tell him about it later as he reclaims me. We’ve even branched out from there, occasionally bringing another girl into our bed.

And tonight for his twenty-seventh birthday, I have an all-new surprise for him. One of the guys I fuck now is married, and he and his wife are swingers. Jeb and I have never swapped in the same room, but in about half an hour, everyone is going to meet up at the hotel and give him another birthday he’ll never forget. We couldn’t be happier, and every now and then I still laugh thinking about how it all started with plain old party balloons.