Ashley wants to be a cum-slut - Part I.

This is a three-part story. In this first of three parts, Jack and Ashley discuss her fantasy and get a bit carried away with things while exploring her submissive cravings. While there is no group sex in this part of the story, I'm thinking it is a hot intro to what Ashley wants. The three parts of the story should/could be read separately or as one.

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We were having coffee on the terrace. It was blustery but not cold as the storm moved through. The large canvas canopy effectively shielded us from the showers. With the exception of the noise from the rain, everything was completely quiet, just the leaves on the trees stirring.

We’d made the trip in just a few hours, leaving Port Townsend yesterday and taking the ferry across the sound back to Seattle. We’d needed a little break from the daily grind and the long weekend spent looking at all the boats, shopping and just walking around on the beach had been good for us. Sleeping till we woke and enjoying each day with no schedule had been just perfect. 

My wife, Ashley, sat there sipping her coffee. It was her second cup and she was enjoying it black with no sugar. Her hands cupped the mug, enjoying the heat emanating from it, as she sat there in the chair, her legs drawn up so her arms rested on her knees. Ashley had enjoyed her 37th birthday just a couple of days ago, on our weekend getaway. She seemed content with things. Looking at her, I couldn’t imagine her not being content. At least with how the years had treated her. Not a wrinkle to be seen, clear green eyes, a sensuous mouth with full lips and long dark brunette hair, cascading in waves over her shoulders. She’d always loved her hair; I did too. 

Like most women, especially attractive ones, she was unrealistically critical about her body. I found no reason for criticism. Standing 5-8 in her stocking feet, she weighed about 125 pounds, well distributed on her frame. She was blessed with long limbs, slim hips and large firm breasts. Her breasts were, unbelievably, what she always complained about. She felt that they were too large and usually dressed to minimize them when we were in public. She seemed to be at war with them constantly. I thought about the irrationality of women in general. Here was a woman with a terrific body, punctuated by breasts barely contained by a 34D bra, complaining. She always bitched about how they were sagging as she appraised herself in a mirror after a bath or shower. Perhaps she was right, barely. I couldn’t notice anything to complain about. Her breasts were beautifully shaped; to my eyes perfect: they jutted from her chest at about a 45 degree angle and the bottom half described a perfect circular arc. Nipples the thickness of your little finger pointed to the sky and were set off beautifully by silver dollar sized areolas of a beautiful reddish-brown color, slightly raised above the surrounding pale flesh. As far as I was concerned, she had a body an 18 year old would kill for.

Emerging from her reverie, Ashley turned to look at me, “You still like me don’t you, Jack?”

I’d been here before. The uncertainty. “Yes, babe. I like you…more than ever.”

“You wouldn’t rather have someone younger? Somebody with a firmer body or a tighter ass?”

“Don’t be silly, Ashley. For God’s sake, look at yourself. You’ve got the same body you had when we met 18 years ago. You haven’t aged a bit,” I replied. “Aside from that, there’s your…ah…sexuality, your…well…hunger. You’re voracious. I love that about you. You never seem to be able to get enough. At least not for long. What man wouldn’t love that?” I asked.

“I do get carried away a bit, Jack. But I just love it so much with you. I’ve always been this way. Expect I always will be.”

“Don’t change, Ashley. It’s one of your best features,” I said, laughing while I said it. We’d joked over the years about her sexuality. She seemed to be an anomoly among her group of women friends, at least the one’s she talked to about such things. Most of them bitched and moaned about how often their husbands wanted sex and what they wanted. Ashley felt like she must have been born on a different planet; one where women felt sex was natural and pleasurable, all the time. She never shared this with her friends as she thought they would think her somehow odd, different from them. So she just nodded sympathetically when they told her their tales of woe.

For me, I felt blessed at having found her. She was, in my eyes, perfect sexually, at least for me. There was nothing she didn’t love and in her book, the filthier the better. She was exhibitionistic and loved having me watch her intently as she masturbated, our eyes locked on to each other. She enjoyed watching us in a mirror as I fucked her long and slow. She loved it when I jacked off, fisting my cock until I came on her face. And of course, she absolutely adored sucking cock; especially enjoying my orgasm as I pumped load after load of hot cum down her throat. There simply wasn’t anything she didn’t love and over the years her repertoire, so to speak, had only grown larger.

As I was having this pleasant little review in my mind, she interrupted. “Jack, I want to talk to you about something. And I’m concerned you’ll take it the wrong way.”
“Try me”, I said, wondering what was on her mind. She seemed nervous and we’d been too intimate too long to be nervous about anything in my opinion.

“Jack…there’s something I’d like from you…something I’ve wanted for a while now and I can’t seem to get it out of my head.” At this point I was really curious. She seemed quite agitated and disturbed; nervous about what was on her mind. This was quite unlike her.

“What is it you want, hon?”

“It’s something sexual, Jack and it’s driving me crazy. I must be having some kind of mid-life crisis or something. It’s completely irrational but I can’t seem to shake it.”

“Go on…I’m all ears. You know by this time, after all our years together that you’re not going to shock me, don’t you?”

“Yes, I guess I do, but I don’t want this to bother you. I don’t want you to think I’m not happy with you. I am. I couldn’t have a better lover. But…”

“Just spit it out and quit beating around the bush, okay? I doubt you’ll shock me.”

“Jack, you know how I love making love with you, how much satisfaction I get. You’re just the best and your cock really does it for me.”

I nodded.

She continued, “But, Jack, what keeps nagging at me is… the thought of… having several men on me at one time.”