Anger Made My Wife a Slut

Authors Note: This is another

FICTIONAL

story. All characters in the story are

FICTIONAL

with the exception of my wife and I. All of the actions and conversations in this story are

FICTIONAL

.

*****

I got a text from Donny on Tuesday afternoon. He had promised to send me the details of the birthday party that he was throwing for one of his friends on the coming weekend. I had spent the previous weekend entertaining his friends at Stevie's bachelor party. For most of the weekend I was completely naked in various positions often with more than one cock inside of me. In spite of the fact that I was doing it under duress I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it.

The birthday party was taking place on the Friday evening at a church hall in the west end of the city. I was nervous about the location because I knew that there would be a superintendant on duty at the hall. His duty was mainly to clean up after the party and make sure that nothing belonging to the hall was damaged. Other than that he would pop in every once in a while to check with Donny. Donny had rented the hall and arranged the liquor licence and was therefore the permit holder and would be held responsible for any damage or activities that might be considered illegal.

I knew that I would be expected to strip in the hall and probably engage in some sexual acts. I wondered if those actions would be deemed illegal. I texted Donny to let him know that I would be there.

I was driving home from work when my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number but I had been expecting a call from my daughter and thought perhaps her phone had died yet again and she was either calling from her work or a friends phone.

"Hello."

"Hi Janice, how are you?" It was a raspy female voice that sounded a little familiar but I could not match it to a face.

"Sorry, but who is this". I asked.

"It's Cheryl." She laughed. "I guess it's been five or six years but who could forget this voice!"

I chuckled. "More like ten or twelve. Where have you been?"

"It's a long story. Got time for a beer?" she replied.

"I haven't drunk beer for at least ten years but if you'll buy me a decent merlot I'll say yes. Where are you?"

"Well, you'll find this hard to believe but I'm at the Boston Pizza near your house."

"Ok, I'll be there in 20 minutes or so. Does Boston Pizza serve a decent merlot?"

Cheryl and I grew up together, played on the same softball team and played ringette together. Our sons had played on the same hockey team in our hometown and we had even worked together for a few months until her job was transferred to another city. I was looking forward to seeing her and catching up but I was curious as to how she had vanished from my life all those years ago and where she had been. I was also curious as to how she got my phone number and address.

I knew Alan wouldn't be home yet so I called him to let him know about the phone call and let him know that he would have to fend for himself when it came to dinner.

As I entered the Boston Pizza I figured that she would be sitting in the bar side rather than the restaurant side of the place. Sure enough, I found her in a booth thumbing through the menu. There was an almost full beer in front of her and a very large glass of wine on the other side of the table.

Before I had a chance to take my coat off she stood up and we hugged. It really had been ten or twelve years since we had seen each other but she looked just like I had expected her to.

I took my coat off, sat down and lifted my glass. "Cheers."

She clinked her glass against mine and responded. "Cheers."

"What are you doing here and how did you get my number." I asked. As soon as I said it I realized that it sounded cold but I thought it was a fair question.

"Well, I have kept in occasional contact with Yvonne (another softball and ringette teammate) and when she realised that the house I just bought was only a couple of miles away from yours she gave me your number." She explained.

"So what have you been doing for the last decade." I asked.

"Well, when I was transferred to the Soo, my husband and I split up. He couldn't find work and he wanted to go home. In truth, our marriage was over several years before that but we stayed together for the kids. I don't know if you remember but you were still my manager when I relocated. You came to the office several times but you never came to see me." She sounded very hurt.

"Yes, I recall going to the Soo several times but it was always in and out very quickly. I asked for you on one trip but you weren't in the office. Bear in mind that I managed Sudbury and a department in Toronto as well. On top of that Tim and I were going through a divorce and that got really nasty. Then I got transferred to Toronto and someone told me that you had quit." I felt annoyed that I needed to explain myself.

"Where did you go after you quit?" I asked.

"That's where things got a little interesting." She laughed. "I hooked up with a guy in the Soo. My kids went back to live with their father and I got pregnant. There weren't many black guys in the Soo back then but one of them knocked me up! Two days after I found out that I was pregnant my guy finds out that he has cancer. He was dead within three months. I was so lost I just needed to get away. I had kept in touch with my cousins back in Poland and I decided to go to live there. I didn't feel like I had anything to keep me here and I still had my Polish citizenship because of my parents. My baby was stillborn and the nurses very discretely got rid of the evidence. "

"What about your kids?' I asked.

"Their father and his family fed them stories about how bad a mother I was and they wouldn't even take my calls. I still haven't been able to contact them. Of course, getting pregnant by a black man didn't help my cause. Anyway, I don't know what I was thinking when I went to Poland. If my kid had been born normal do you think they would have accepted us knowing that the father was black?"

"I knew that I couldn't make my way in Poland so I used my share of the divorce settlement and my severance money and bought a place in Greece." She explained.

"Wait. What severance?" I asked.

"When the office in the Soo was moved to Toronto I was laid off. I didn't quit."

"Ok, what happened next?" I was intrigued. It seemed that she had lived a lifetime since I last saw her.

"Well, I figured I would get a job and everything would be good. Problem is I speak English and Polish but not whatever the hell they speak in Greece. Finding work was impossible so I started to rent a couple of rooms to tourists. It worked for a while and then the two thousand and eight recession hit. I couldn't even get people to stay for free. Then the Greek economy sunk deep into the toilet and I just had to walk away from my home. I couldn't afford the taxes or the bills. I got less than twenty five percent of what I paid for it" I could see the tears welling up in her eyes.

"So what did you do then?" The trials and tribulations that I had been through seemed all of a sudden to mean nothing.

"The only thing I had was my Polish passport which meant that I could move freely throughout the EU. So I used my womanly wiles to survive. The money soon ran out and I made my way through Italy, Spain and France living off of my wits."

"So you fucked your way through Europe." I laughed.

Fortunately she saw the truth and the funny side of it and laughed too. Then she said something that rocked me.

"I found that I did well with black guys. They were considerate and generous and had beautiful cocks." She giggled.

"So why did you come back to Canada?" I asked.

"My Dad died years ago and then a friend told me that my Mum was dying so I came home to make my peace with her".

"Did you make peace with her?' I asked.

"I saw her in hospital just before she passed. She told me that she loved me and we all make good decisions that go bad and bad decisions that turn out good. I never got to speak with her again. She died that night."

"As you know, my Mum died when I was fifteen and my Dad died about fifteen years ago. Nothing can ever replace them but I am re-married and have three wonderful grandsons and I feel content. My husband and I have had our problems but we seem to get through them and I feel stronger and more liberated than I ever have."

"What do you mean by liberated?" she asked.

I felt obligated to explain. "Well, I don't know that I should tell you this but, when my new husband and I were going through our problems, I started to branch out."

"Define "branch out." She suggested.

"Well, he told me that he had a fantasy that involved me stripping and having sex with a black guy. We went through a really bad spell and I decided to force the issue. I found a black guy online and invited him over. I was scared witless at first but when I started to strip I really got into it. We fucked right in front of my husband and I have been testing my boundaries ever since. I have had several gang bangs and one on ones since and I must admit that I love it. I am in full agreement with you about black guys and their cocks." I admitted.

"I had a threesome in Paris with a couple of black guys once and loved it." She smiled. "How many guys have you had?"

I told her about the Reparations Dinner weekend and her eyes flew open wide.

"Wow, I'd love to do something like that. I have been prim and proper since I came home but I miss it. I'd love to try something like that."

"Ok, give me your phone number. I am quite active and when I hear about a new opportunity I will let you know."

"How does your new husband agree with this?" she asked.

"He was pissed about it at first but since then he has watched me do all kinds of things and he enjoys it. Now he even joins in." I candidly admitted.

"I should have met him before you did." She giggled

We parted after exchanging contact information and agreeing to meet again soon.

I stopped at my mailbox and grabbed the handful of flyers and bills that were jammed inside. I hadn't checked the mail for almost a week and I wasn't surprised at how full the box was.

Alan was just cleaning up after dinner as I arrived home. We hugged and kissed as usual and I put the mail on the kitchen counter. Alan went upstairs to get changed. I took off my coat and shoes and followed him upstairs. When I got to our bedroom he was kneeling down looking through a drawer for his favourite pair of sweatpants. He was completely naked and I leant against the wall to watch him.

He knew I was watching him and he said "Any idea where my black sweatpants are?"

I stared at his butt for a moment or two and said "I washed them on the weekend and put them in the closet."

He stood up and turned to face me. He saw my eyes drift down his body and stop at his cock. I continued to gaze at his cock as it started to react. It was semi hard when he brushed past me on his way through the bathroom to the closet. I watched as he reached up to the top shelf and pulled the pants down. He turned to face me and pulled the pants on. His erection was obvious. He grabbed a t-shirt and put it on. He knew that I was going to get changed and so he stood to watch. I slowly stripped off and stood before him naked. He took a couple of steps toward me and placed his hand on me just above my pussy. Then he went around behind me and fondled my butt and then he pressed his body into me and reached around to cup my breasts. I let him play for a moment or two and pulled away from him. Turning to face him I dropped to my knees and pulled his pants down. He stepped out of them as I stood up. I took his erection in my hand and led him out to the bedroom.

I bent over the bed and parted my legs. I don't know if it was the conversation that I had just had with Cheryl or the memories of the Reparations Dinner weekend but I wanted his cock in me right now. He was obviously fired up too and I soon felt the head of his cock pushing against my pussy. I gasped at the glorious feeling of penetration and the feel of his cock sliding in and out. He hammered away at me for a good ten minutes before my pussy tensed up and I came. He felt my orgasm and immediately had one of his own.

We hugged for several minutes basking in the warmth of each others' bodies and then we got up and went downstairs. I had put my robe on and he was dressed only in his t-shirt. I knew that the evening's activity was not over.

As we got downstairs Alan pointed at something on the kitchen floor. He knelt down to pick it up and saw that it was addressed to me. I opened the envelope to find and invitation inside.

Marcus and Ronnie Cordially Request the Company of Janice and Alan on the Occasion of Marcus' 40th Birthday.

Time: 8.30pm. Date: October 12th. Location: The Honey Pot Lounge.

The invitation gave the address of the Honey Pot Lounge and a phone number to RSVP to. At the bottom of the invitation was the message "Public Dancing and other Perversions Allowed".

I turned on my computer and Googled "The Honey Pot Lounge." It was a bar in a mainly industrial area in the north end of the city. There was a small run down residential area several blocks from the bar but nothing else of note. The pictures of the bar on the website showed a stage surrounded by long tables with a dozen or so chairs at each. Around the edges of the room were a number of circular booths that looked big enough for eight or ten people. At one end of the room there were a couple of pool tables, a few dartboards and several four decade old arcade games. The last picture was taken from one end of the bar itself. The bar looked unusually wide and fairly long. The odd thing was that the space beyond the bar was completely black. I wondered if it was just not an aesthetically pleasing area that was simply not worth showing or if there was something in that part of the room that they purposely did not want to show.

"It looks like a dump." I said.

"It looks like an old strip club." Alan replied.

"How would you know?" I asked.

"I was young once." He giggled.

"You frequented strip clubs?" I didn't think that he was the kind of guy that would spend a great deal of time in such places.

"Sure. When I worked as a bond trader it wasn't uncommon for a group of guys to end up at one to finish off the evening. There were a couple of touristy ones on Yonge Street and one really sleazy one on Dundas I believe it was." he explained.

"Yes, I know the one on Dundas." I admitted. It was the one that I had stripped for Darby at.

"The best ones were out near the airport though. All kinds of shenanigans went on out there until some guy got shot to death as he left one. That made the cops sit up and take notice. Most of them have closed down now but they were a lot of fun back then."

"What kind of stuff happened?" I was curious.

"It was commonplace to see guys getting blow jobs and fucking the strippers. I even saw a full on sex show right on stage. There had to be six or seven people involved." He smiled.

"Did you ever get involved in any of that?" I asked.

"No, I was afraid that my willy would turn green and fall off."

I pulled his t-shirt up and stroked his 'willy'.

"I'm glad that never happened." I smiled.

He was already erect as he looked down and said "You and me both!"

"Shall I phone Ronnie and let her know we will be there?" I asked.

"Sure, I'm keen if you are." He answered.

"Hi Ronnie, we got your invite."

"My god, I sent that weeks ago. I just assumed you guys weren't interested." She interrupted.

"I just got it out of the mailbox today." I stammered.

"We've heard back from everyone else already."

"Sorry, I'll check my mailbox more often." Even to me my voice sounded meek.

Ronnie burst out laughing. "I'm just kidding. So are you guys coming to the party?"

"Yes, we'll be there. Do you mind if I bring a friend as well?"

"Not at all. The more the merrier." She gushed.

"Can I ask you about the location?"

"Sure. What do you need to know?" She asked.

"Well, I went online and looked at the Honey Pot. It doesn't look like a very nice place and the area isn't the best either. Why is the party there?"

"The bar means a lot to us. Marcus and I met there. In fact Marcus used to run the place. He kicked me out of there once." She explained.

"Why did he kick you out? " I asked.

"You probably know that my father is rich." She started.

"Yeah, I figured." I interjected.

"He didn't want my brother and I to live a meaningless life just living off of his money and so he told us that we'd have to make our own way before we were written into his will."

"I didn't know you have a brother."

"He is gone now. Died of a drug overdose ten years ago. He never came to Canada except to visit. He made a fair amount of money doing something in computer software in the US. On the other hand I was a complete failure. My father challenged me to come up with $1000 in a week. I didn't have a job and I was living off the goodwill of friends. I saw an advert looking for strippers and I figured that I was useless at most things but I knew how to take my clothes off. So I went to the bar to audition. I was too nervous to do well and he said I should come back after I had taken some dance lessons. When the bar was open for business I sneaked in and got up on stage to strip. Marcus caught me and threw me out. I tried again the same night and he kicked me out again. When he caught me a third time that night I begged for a chance. He told me that I had two songs to prove myself. I was desperate and danced like I never have before. I was the biggest slut in the bar that night and the guys loved it. Marcus took me on and I became a regular there. I made well over a thousand that first week and actually gave my father a cheque for fifteen hundred dollars. He cashed it to make sure that the money was in my account and then put the money and a chunk more back in. He never asked how I made the money. He just wanted to see if I was resourceful enough to do so." She explained.

"So how about you and Marcus?" I asked.

"We fell in love. I realized how he cared about people. I lost my virginity in that bar."

"How?" I wanted the details.

"One night I was in the changing room and Marcus was doing his rounds before closing up. He came into the room and was surprised to see me there. He told me to give him a show and so I stripped for him on top of the bar. When I was naked he joined me on the bar and we made out. We married soon after."

"So I haven't done much that you haven't already done!" I laughed.

" You started a bit later in life than I did but no, I have done the gang bangs, I've been tied down and fucked as many ways as you can think of. You name it I've been there. Anyway, the bar was going to be pulled down to make way for a parking lot for a factory. Marcus would have been out of a job so my father bought the place and gave it to him. We made enough money to buy a couple more bars but Marcus will not sell the Honey Pot. He keeps it up together and rents it out for private events and film companies. Quite a number of scenes have been shot in that bar. I even starred in one scene."

"What movie? What did you do?" I asked.

"I'm not going to tell you the name of the movie but I was in it for a good ten minutes or so. I stripped and gave a guy a blowjob while his buddy fucked me from behind. There was a close up of the guy shooting his load over my face. I'm not proud of it but I'm not ashamed of it either."She explained.

"I'd love to be in a movie like that." I blurted out.

"I'll see if there is anything in the pipeline." She promised. "So we'll see you on Saturday?"

"Shit, is it this Saturday?" I asked.