My Husband Wants To Bottom Pt 4

I felt my hole stretching wide to accommodate this college jock. He was a bit thicker than John and I moaned loudly as the head rubbed my prostate on its way up my guts.

Part 3


I became a slut by accident. And since I know that turns my husband, John, on more than he’d ever admit, I confessed the following story to him, letting him know some parts are true and others are not. I left it up to John to decide which parts to believe.

We’d had plans to visit my parents in my hometown for the weekend, but at the last minute, John got called into an emergency work session. I was bummed because we had booked a hotel to have our own space and I was hoping to get my brains fucked out. We’d had a lot of fun with my husband’s recent adventures in being more versatile, but it had been a while since I just got used like a bottom slut and I was so horny, especially since John’s work had kept him so busy lately.

So I still packed a bright colored Nasty Pig jockstrap and my very short gym shorts, telling myself it was to workout in the hotel gym, purposefully ignoring the reality that working out like that in a family-friendly hotel in my hometown was probably not the reason for packing such slutty gear.

The drive there and dinner with my parents was uneventful. My dad fell asleep in his recliner and I took that as my excuse to bow out, saying I was tired and wanted to get back to the hotel for a nice sleep. In reality, I wanted to somehow take care of this horniness that had been building for several weeks. In further reality, I’d probably just end up jerking off to porn.

When I got back to what turned out to be the newest hotel in town, I decided to take advantage of the very nice bathroom and take a shower. Of course, then I started jerking my dick and fingering my hole and getting even hornier.

As I dried off and settled my toiletries in the bathroom, I found the bottle of lube I had packed in anticipation of some fun with John. I decided instead of just jerking in my room, I was going to keep fingering my hole, maybe even get several fingers in. I laid a towel down on the bed and laid back and got to work, jerking my dick while working several lubed fingers into my hole.

I was so horny, and this just wasn’t cutting it. I decided I could have some responsible fun. That’s what I thought of it as: responsible. I would go to the local adult arcade and just jerk off in a booth. I’d actually taken John there before to try to encourage some exhibition and blow him through one of the gloryholes that had been there since I was in college. But they’d covered them up and we just had fun the two of us. Assuming the gloryholes were still covered up, that would stop me from going too far. So that’s why I also decided it was OK to put on that jockstrap and short shorts with a tank top.

I pulled up to the arcade and there were no other cars in the parking lot. Perfect. No way for me to be tempted if I’m the only one there. I tried the door and found it locked. Fuck. They’ve changed their hours and are already closed for the night. It used to be open 24 hours a day, but now they’ve significantly trimmed their hours.

Well, now what? I’m in this part of town and hornier than ever. Then I remembered there was an adult cinema nearby. I had been there once in college and never been back because it seemed so sleazy. A straight theater, gay theater, and booths with gloryholes in between the two. The one time I’d been there at 19 I felt ogled like a piece of meat and it had made me uncomfortable.

Now pushing 40 and embracing being a bottom slut, it sounded like just the kind of ego boost I might enjoy. And since it was late on a weeknight, there probably wouldn’t be too many people there.

I was being responsible.

There were a few cars parked in the back alley behind the cinema. I entered and it was still as sleazy as I remembered in the main shop. Dirty magazines and videos everywhere. Who even bought these things anymore? The clerk seemed disinterested in my presence, but took the cash required for entrance to the cinema. I don’t think he cared to notice the bright blue straps of my jockstrap peeking out the bottom of my short shorts.

As I walked into the first part, the straight theater, I could see a man on a couch in the back corner and no one else. The movie playing was an older movie where a fake looking blond chick was blowing a dick that didn’t even look that good. I’m not into straight porn anyway, and this certainly looked boring.

Walking by the row of booths, it didn’t look like any of them were occupied, so I continued to the gay “theater”, which was really just a few couches and a TV. The gay porn playing was, surprisingly, even more boring that what was playing on the big screen in the straight theater.

Looks like this is kind of a bust.

Wait a minute, I’m here to be responsible and just jerk off.

I headed back to the straight theater and sat far away from the other guy. I’m being responsible. I paid attention to the movie and it honestly wasn’t doing much for me, so I took a glance to my right and could tell that the other guy was jerking off, but trying to be subtle about it. He appeared to be about 5-10 years older than me, and looked like one of those dads that thinks sport jerseys are shirts and lets their teenagers try beer. I’m usually more drawn to the clean-cut jock dads. Thinking about dads and their dicks got me going a bit, so I reached up the leg of my shorts and pushed the jock to the side to access my dick.

There’s no way Beer Dad didn’t notice this, but after a bit he stood up and headed toward the booths. He must want to be alone. Or he wants to get blown through a gloryhole. No, he wants to be alone. And I’ll just keep jerking here. That’s the responsible thing.

Well, what if he went to the gay theater? Or maybe he left through another door. After all, I’m not really familiar with this place. I’ll check out the gay theater again. He’s not there. He must have left. I took a seat on one of the couches and just pushed my shorts completely down, thinking about whether there were other sluts who had been fucked back here.

I was so horny. I decided I could be bold if I’m the only one still here. I’ll head back to the big straight theater just inside the door and drop my shorts there and just feel like a slut while I jerk off alone. When I got back there, Beer Dad was in his dark corner again. I don’t even know where he came from. I hadn’t seen him walking around the other areas.

I made a fateful decision and chose a seat on one of the couches closer to him. From there, I could see he was more openly jerking off, but I couldn’t really see his dick all that well. He barely had it pulled out of his cargo shorts. We can just jerk off together. That’s still responsible.

“They’re about to close,” he said to me. I thought this place had been 24 hours a day, too, I thought to myself. Sad, I thought, except I don’t live here anymore, so why should I care?

“Do you suck?” he asked me directly. His boldness surprised me. I realize we’re in a seedy adult cinema, but my experience in such places over the years is that many guys are still kind of shy and uncertain about making a move.

In my shock I just kind of stared at him without responding at first. Then he stopped jerking and showed me his hard dick. It actually looked really big. And thick.

And I was so horny.

Without really thinking, I found myself scooting off the couch, down on my knees, and kind of crawling toward him in his dark corner. Up close to his dick, it looked so good.

Now, some may slowly take a cock into their mouth and see how it tastes.

But I was so horny.

I devoured his cock, taking it almost all the way on the first gulp. He moaned rather loudly, probably from the shock of having a true slut slobbering on his cock. I’m guessing there aren’t a lot of talented cocksuckers in my hometown. I wanted to make sure he enjoyed this. In that moment, I just wanted to be a slut. I didn’t even care about my own dick in that moment.

After a few minutes of throating his cock like a whore, I heard the unmistakable sound of the door into the theater opening so I flew up onto a nearby couch while Beer Dad tried to stuff that big hard dick back into this cargo shorts, rather unsuccessfully. We both took note of a young jock walking into the theater. He glanced our way and seemed to be in college or recently graduated. I’m sure he won’t want anything to do with us. Sure enough, he walked past the theater we were in and toward the row of booths.

I looked toward Beer Dad again and he was fishing out his cock again. “Get back on my cock,” he ordered me.

I obviously wasn’t thinking about responsibility anymore. I imagined what John would think of all of this. He probably wouldn’t be happy about it happening without him there, but we’d both had other cocks in our mouths lately, so it would probably still make his dick hard to see me being such a slut.

So I got back on my knees and gobbled up that thick cock again. Before long, Beer Dad grabbed onto my head and started using my mouth like a fleshlight. It was so hot. John is always too nice to me. I’m a slut and should be used as such. Fucking my face, or should I say forcing me to fuck my own face on Beer Dad’s cock, was the sluttiest I had ever felt and I suddenly felt like I had new purpose in life. I was gagging on this big dick and spit was pouring out of my mouth and all over Beer Dad’s balls. He was probably going to get those cargo shorts wet with my spit, but he didn’t seem to care. He didn’t seem to care about much at that moment other than using my mouth.

“He likes it rough,” I heard Beer Dad say, but who was he talking to? I tried to pull off his cock, but he held my head down and started pumping his hips to fuck my face. In an effort to get a better angle so he wouldn’t choke me out with his dick, I moved the position of my head and simultaneously arched my back down on my knees on the floor of this sleazy cinema.

“Looks like it,” I heard College Boy say behind me, “and he just pushed his ass out, too.”

“Have at it,” Beer Dad said, “I’m keeping his mouth busy.”

I felt College Boy’s hands trace the bright blue straps that were peeking out the bottom of my shorts and then snap them on either side of my ass. This was getting a little intense, I need to stop this. Sucking cock on my knees like a cheap whore is one thing, but John wouldn’t want another man exploring my ass. I reached back with my hands to try to swat College Boy away.

“Oh, you want to touch?” College Boy grabbed my right hand and wrapped it around what felt like a big, young, jock dick.

Fuck. I arched my back even more.

He let go of my hand and for some reason I kept jerking that dick. I must have been quite a sight, with my head buried in Beer Dad’s lap and reaching back to stroke another dick.

What a slut.

College Boy grabbed my wrist again and pushed it down on my back as I could sense him getting on his knees behind me. Before I knew it, he had tugged my shorts down.

“Wow, what an ass!” he exclaimed, filling me with a sense of slutty pride for a moment, before I felt a finger exploring my hole. His finger slipped in easily.

“His hole is already lubed,” College Boy said to Beer Dad, who replied, “Doesn’t surprise me. He strutted in here like a whore in heat.”

College Boy fingered me fairly aggressively and I felt my hole loosening up and making me all the hornier.

So horny. I moaned on Beer Dad’s cock as I felt College Boy’s fingers pull from my hole.

And then I felt the unmistakable nudge at my hole. The feeling of a cock head about to be pushed inside.

“FUCK!” College Boy shouted as he slid his cock into me in one, confident push. I felt my hole stretching wide to accommodate this college jock. He was a bit thicker than John and I moaned loudly as the head rubbed my prostate on its way up my guts.

“Yeah, stud,” Beer Dad said, “let’s spitroast this slut.”

All thoughts of responsibility were now obviously out the door. I was a slut. This is obviously what I came to this sleazy theater to do. Be used by big, thick cocks on guys who probably try to pass for straight in my hometown.

For the next few minutes, all you could hear was the faint sound of some bimbo doing a bad acting job while sucking a cock, only to be outdone by the sound of my gagging on Beer Dad’s cock while College Boy’s thighs made that loud, unmistakable slapping sound as he pummeled my butt. Then the loud sound of the theater door opening cracked through, but this time Beer Dad didn’t even try to stop, and I’m not sure College Boy even heard it.

“Finish up guys, it’s closing time,” the clerk said, peeking inside the door.

“Almost done, Rick,” Beer Dad said. Figures he’s a regular.

“Oh, wow,” I heard the clerk say, “We haven’t had a slut like this in a while. Take your time.”

I heard the door close again. College Boy and Beer Dad both picked up the pace, slamming their dicks into each of my cock-hungry holes.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” College Boy shouted.

“Fill him up!” Beer Dad growled. And then his cum gushed into my mouth and right down my throat, while he kept fucking my face. At the same time, I felt College Boy collapse on top of me while his cock pulsed in my hole, filling my guts with his jock cum.

Beer Dad finally let go of my head and I pulled off his dripping cock, swallowing the last of his cum. I tried to move College Boy off from behind me so I could finally get up off of my now very sore knees.

“You’re not done,” I heard in the clerk’s voice. He must have stayed in the theater instead of heading out front. I felt him yank my head up by the hair on my head and I was trying to look up at his face but instead was confronted with the sight of him angrily jerking a fairly small cock. Right as I opened my mouth to yelp at the pain of him pulling me up by the hair, I felt cum splash right across my open mouth and nose. I tried to get my bearings and get his hand out of my hair. Meanwhile, he kept shooting cum all over my face and my tank top.

“OK, guys, time to leave,” the clerk said, and both Beer Dad and College Boy shuffled out quickly, probably having that instant “straight guy” remorse that hits closeted guys pretty quickly. I kneeled back on the floor, still quite dazed while the cum on my face continued dripping down onto my chest and my jockstrap covered cock below. It was then I realized my jockstrap was covered in cum, and further than my cock was softening. I had cum inside the jockstrap while being spitroasted. I slowly started to make my way to my feet.

“And you,” the clerk said to me, “come back anytime and if I’m working you can get in for free. You can pay in other ways.”

I decided the best way to confess to John was to send him a mirror selfie from the hotel. By the time I got to the room, most of the cum had dried so that the few people I saw in the dark hotel parking lot didn’t notice anything wrong with me. But in the bright lights of the hotel bathroom mirror, John instantly saw in the picture what I slut I was.

When I got home from the trip, I told him this same story, letting him choose which parts to believe. I’m not sure if he thought it was all a fantasy or that every word was true. But he fucked me harder that night than he ever had before.

And the next day he came home with a chastity device and locked up my dick, telling me it was the only way to make me behave.

“But John,” I pleaded, “locking up my dick won’t stop me from being a slut. If anything, it will make me even hornier for dick in my holes.”

“I know,” John said back to me, “if my husband is going to be a slut, he’s going to be the biggest slut possible.”

Now the only way I’ll get to cum is if John unlocks me, which he doesn’t seem inclined to do anytime soon. He’s fucked me every night since I returned from the trip, and lately he’s been talking about my sloppy hole and how it’s obvious one dick isn’t enough to keep me satisfied.

It was an accident, I swear. But at least my husband now knows that I’m just a cock-hungry slut who needs to be used.

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