1,075,900 views

Darla felt the manly hand running up and down her bare legs but wasn't alarmed as she staffed the church bazaar kissing booth all by herself. Darla knew whose hand that had to be - the same jerk who talked her into the kissing gig and into doing it with bare legs and no panties - a dare from a teasing husband who always said she was gutless, a wimp, a wuss, and a prude.

Darla took the dare and ended up having to kiss every shithead, creep, dirty-old-man, and horny brat in her husband's family church. She kissed them, their friends, neighbors, and coworkers, some wives on a lark or a dare, many of the youth in the youth group, passers-by, total strangers, and strange in-law relatives. The reason was simple. Darla was a drop-dead gorgeous walking wet dream, new in the community and new to the church, a newlywed, easily the gal every guy and some girls dreamed about fucking or having in a threesome.

In a sleepy and simple town like Jackson Wells, Texas, Darla had everyone wide awake and wondering what she looked like naked. She was NFL-Cheerleader-quality pussy in a community of plain-janes, Tomboys, redneck redheads, trailer-trash blondes, and brunette cowgirls in pigtails. The chance to kiss a real blonde like the busty twenty-two-year-old Darla for a buck was sure to bring in a bundle if all she did was pucker-up and peck.

Darla was a busty blonde who didn't look bimbo or dumb. She set the standard for the all-around ten - perfect pussy. If they could just get her out of her blouse and bra, the sky was the limit. First, they had to get her in the fucking booth. Her hubby boldly told them to leave that to him, but getting her boobs out was up to them. Even then, he offered tips.

At a buck a kiss, after one hour, Darla brought in two- hundred and twenty-two dollars. Darla earned every buck, but most wanted a good kiss. A good kiss lasted a full minute. Darla thought a good-enough kiss was five seconds. One of the youth with a marker pen altered the Kisses - $1 sign to read: Kisses - $1/minute. That amendment was Clifford's tip. His marker, too. Also his kid brother.

Hoping to end the prude label, Darla honored the amended sign, so she brought in $60/hour in the next hour. The bazaar began at eight in the morning, so that amendment stood to cost the church a bundle. The minute kisses were so popular that the price had to rise and did steadily from $2, to $3, then $4, and finally stabilized at $5 to help drive youth out of the line. From 10:30 on, Darla brought in $300/hour from a kissing booth the church traditionally earned $300 from in a twelve-hour Saturday Bazaar. At the rate she was going, Darla could out-sell the entire bazaar and still have a long line of customers to serve.

Darla's shift was due to end at noon, but the other women were not willing to honor the /minute amendment, and with good reason. One minute of real kissing was a sixty-second make-out. Customers were kissing with tongue and feeling Darla up for a few bucks. They were also telling her what they really wanted to do, offering propositions and trying to make dates. Some were getting very worked up and quite out-of-hand. This was a make-out booth, not a kissing booth, and a fucking kissing booth was no place for a lady. Darla should have worn panties, and she had a challenge keeping that fact a private fact. She wore a bra for all the good it did.

Darla was determined to end the prude label once and forever; though, after this gig, they might replace that label with one that was much worse, but Darla stopped caring after the kissing got serious with the pastor's support. Pastor John was the first of the minute kissers, and the first to make out with Cliff's gorgeous wife, the first to cop a feel of her hooters and squeeze her fine ass. He purchased a ten-minute block when her make-out kisses were still going for a buck.

After the preacher man did that, Darla stopped caring. When the money poured in at the rate of five bucks per minute, she felt like a kissing whore. The blouse remained unbuttoned, the bra remained undone, and the double-D hooters were thrown in, thrust out, and became something else to kiss. The sign should have been further amended to read: Make-out with a big-city whore for $5/min with a one-minute max/customer, but there was no room to make further amendments. The best they could do was squeeze in "one-minute max/customer."

Darla knew that hand had to belong to Cliff. He was to be there at noon to take her home, but there was no Cliff to be seen - unless Cliff had gotten under the cloth-draped table to get in one final insult to modesty, decency, and marital fidelity. He was closing in on the pussy, but when he got there, he wouldn't find a dry hole. The thighs weren't dry, either. Making out for hours on end took a toll. He sure as hell would not find a prude.

Many of those kisses were from damn good kissers, and kissing was a weakness Darla had, a weakness that typically got her laid, bringing about a policy of never kissing a date she wasn't willing to go all the way with. This gig was shear torture for a kissing fool with a thing for having her tits worshipped. Darla was not an NFL Cheerleader, but when Cliff met her, she was a star waitress at Hooters in Houston - next best thing.

Darla's twin beauties were a major hit and a big draw, a feature no Jackson Wells church bazaar ever featured, but they were features that won quick and easy acceptance. She wasn't topless but may as well have been. By noon, her proud hooters were out more than in and getting more lip service than her mouth. The youth were going in on a minute two and three at a time. Nursing two young men while kissing a third almost drove Darla to masturbation - almost. With three hundred onlookers looking on she couldn't pull that off, but she could grind her clit on the edge of the table. That did help, and she didn't care how that looked, at least she wasn't touching herself.

Cliff's hands were most welcome, but Darla would not give him the pleasure of reacting to those hands as the old Darla would have while on duty. The new Darla welcomed hands up her skirt, all over her legs, and eventually between her legs. They were very welcome there, and no one knew except she and Cliff, and he had to wonder if she knew or cared whose hands those were.

At ten minutes after noon with no relief in sight, and no Cliff in sight, Pastor John was back with yet another proposition while two young men nursed on her hooters. He stood to the side and watched the nursing boys for a few seconds before looking to the nurse and saying, "Darla, you are the greatest with the greatest. You are breaking all the records, girl."

Darla looked from her boys to her stop watch, seeing thirty seconds more before looking to John to say, "I'm happy for you, but my time is up - past up."

"Yes, but we don't have anyone that can follow an act like this."

Seeing fifteen seconds, Darla said, "Then follow with whatever act you have, but my act is over after these two hungry pups, and they have five, four, three, two, one...that's it, boys."

Pulling her tits out of sucking mouths and pushing the hands off, she stood straight and covered herself with flaps of loose blouse as the waiting throng made a group protest. John, looking at the potential angry mob, said, "They want you, Darla."

"I know what they want, but I'm not in that business, a you shouldn't be, either."

Darla began buttoning up, but John stopped her with a hand, saying, "Take the blouse and bra off, Darla. Let's make this a topless kissing booth."

Hands were still at work under the skirt and making Darla feel very naughty. Those hands wanted her to keep on working and be the first topless booth kisser. Darla smiled at the thought, then said, "This is already a bizarre bazaar."

"The people want that."

"I hope you know, I feel like a whore. If I go topless, I will look like a whore."

He began pulling at the blouse to free her while saying, "Let me worry about that. This is my church, my bazaar, my booth, and you are my..."

Letting him take the blouse, she said, "Your what, John?"

"Hand me the bra and I'll tell you."

Darla had a crowd wanting her to hand him the bra and two fingers fucking her that were with the crowd, making her want to hear the words if he dared. He looked like he might say, "My girl," or "My woman." He was acting like she was one or the other on the way to being a lover.

Though Darla had never considered having a lover after marriage, she did entertain the thought of taking John on. He was a repeat customer and the best of the best kissers. Darla thought, looked the crowd over, took more encouragement from a spouse who seemed eager for her to have a lover, or that lover, then shrugged free of the opened bra and handed it to him, saying, "Your what, John?"

He smilingly took the bra and said in a loud, clear voice, "My topless whore in the kissing booth. Now get to work. Get that chest out and let's make some money."

Darla didn't expect that, but she was in the mood to make money, so she thrust out her bare chest and hit the stop watch as an old man took her offering and slobbered all over them with a big toothless grin. While he did that, the hands under the table took her by the bare ass and brought a bearded face between her legs just as her clean-shaved Cliff emerged from the crowd to smilingly shake his head and go, "If your mother could see you now, Darla Sue."

Darla had a third big weakness - having her pussy sucked by a man with a beard. Darla braced stiff arms on the table, gripping to the forward edge while staring open-mouthed and wide-eyed at her husband as a monster orgasm built rapidly in over-heated loins that she couldn't hold still.

There before hundreds, with a geezer gumming hell out of a tit, Darla had a killer orgasm that left her hanging onto the table with legs turned to rubber. The man sucking her tits thought he made her cum. Many did. They applauded. He took a bow.

Cliff leaned over the table to whisper in her ear, "So, my lovely bride is the preacher's whore. You certainly have the tits for it, but they should see your pussy. How about it? Are you up to being a naked whore in a kissing booth. I'm sure John would go for that. There's a real crowd pleaser. You're not chicken are you?"

Darla, now on elbows with a hung head, still with a bearded cunt sucker sucking and licking as she rolled her head to look at Cliff, study Cliff, then say to Cliff, "Who are you?"

Cliff laughed then said, "Call me a sharing, caring kind of guy - a thrill seeker. I'm proud of the Hooter babe I married, but I'd be a lot prouder if they could see it all. The best parts of you are still under wraps, sweetheart. We gotta get you naked, sweet thang."

Darla stood in a wide stance to offer the best pussy gobbler she ever got gobbled by a better beaver to feast on with no one being the wiser, but Cliff needed to know. At least, she thought he should know - thought some more, then whispered in his ear, "Cliff, there is a man under the table eating my pussy. I thought he was you, but he's not you. What should I do?"

Cliff smiled, thought, then said, "What would your mother tell you to do?"

That seemed like a very odd thing to say considering that her mother hated the fact that her only daughter was a Hooters whore. Her mother was a church lady who would never have a thing to do with a bizarre bazaar and thought dimly of any married woman taking a lover.

There was a gutless, wimp, wuss, and a prude if ever there was one. Cliff wanted her so badly he had to share that fact on the honeymoon and the mother/daughter fantasy that went with it. Darla enjoyed the fantasy but thought he had a better chance of playing checkers on the moon.

Darla said, "Get real, Cliff. You know what she'd tell me."

"I think she'd tell you to be the best you can be."

"You are a dreamer."

"You look like a dreamer right now. What's the matter, Darla? Can't stand up?"

"Why bother if I am now the preacher's whore. Is that what I am now? Seriously, Cliff, is that what you want?"

"I want your mother. I think if I went to complain to her that you became our preacher's whore, she just might take pity on me. What do you think?"

"Right now, I think it's worth a shot." Getting up to stand in a wide stance. "Now, if you are not a customer, I'll have to ask you to step aside." Looking beyond Cliff to three boys with toothy grins and a bag of quarters, "Next."

Cliff eased back and then eased away. Darla kept an eye on him and last saw him talking to her pimp. He then left the church parking lot bazaar as her pimp came over, snapped his fingers, and commanded, "Let's have the skirt."

This brought a cheer of support even from the ladies. Darla still had a man licking her pussy, but many were now aware and passing that info around as kids kept lifting the cloth to reveal him. Darla pondered going all the way as she wondered where Cliff went. He just might be driving to a Houston suburb an hour away. In two or three hours, her mother might very well be in that crowd. John again snapped his fingers. Darla thought and thought then went for the snap and zip.

Naked in shoes, Darla pushed her eater out as John took away the table cloth and raised the price to ten bucks/minute. The crowd saw that she was worth every buck. Kids were jumping on bikes to go raid savings. Some were begging bucks from smiling parents and getting them. Darla felt like a true whore in a very bizarre bazaar as the make-outs resumed now with pussy in the deal.

Darla had countless orgasms over the next five hours with three hours remaining. They had to sit her in a chair and take the table away. Fucking wasn't allowed, but that was all that wasn't allowed. John draped her legs over the arm rests to turn a kissing booth into a pussy eating booth, and there she sat as customers stepped up and got their ten bucks worth in a throng of over five hundred lookie loos.

Her mother and Cliff emerged from that throng at ten after seven, but that was not the mother that Darla knew. That woman was a young man's lover watching a naked whore make money for a church and being quite amused by that sight.

She didn't even look like the same woman. She didn't dress the same. She looked like a whore's mother who just had sex with a young man - the best sex of her life - several hour's worth that left her feeling young and sexy again. Cliff was good and he had it bad for the mother. Darla could easily imagine the romp they had. What she couldn't imagine was the romp starting or going well. Things obviously went very well for Cliff and not bad at all for the mom who was very married to a very dull man who probably sat in a worn chair and watched sports the whole time they screwed their brains out.

Darla didn't think Cliff would go for it. The advice was tongue in cheek. He obviously thought he had a great way and only needed slight encouragement to try. Darla gave him that. By the looks of things - worked great - a best-case scenario for Cliff. That woman looked eager for a mother/daughter threesome. Darla never gave that possibility any serious thought, but she had to now.

Darla never gave women and girls much thought, but after eleven hours making out with at least fifty of them, Darla felt like an old hand at doing chicks. They were excellent kissers and good with pussy. Chicks know pussy, and the next best thing to a beard is a baby- butt smooth face in a shaved beaver.

Cliff and Diane watched three young girls take a minute each with money and encouragement given to them by parents. Each went to her knees and ate pussy. The crowd loved that and the girls weren't shy about doing it, each trying to outdo the other and trying to get the weary whore to climax. By that time, that was a lofty goal. They gave it their all and they each went a few minutes over time, but Darla simply couldn't go over the top. She came close and worked with the girls, but the cum simply wouldn't come.

The crowd loved seeing girls or women do Darla, and Darla saw Cliff urging Diane to give it a try. Others caught on and were joining the effort. Cliff pulled her mother's top off. Her mother made a bra of her hands while Cliff and two other men relieved her of a tight skirt, leaving her naked in shoes with no pubic hair, a Cliff trademark which she didn't try to conceal as they moved her up to the front of the line and to her knees between the whore's knees, there to stare and blush at a vulgar beaver made vulgar with a whore's fingers lining the lips and pulling out.

They had a moment to look into each other's eyes before a hand forced the face into the beaver, but that was all it took for mother and daughter to put on a great show that ended in mutual orgasms. Diane got a hundred bucks worth for free. She also got fucked by three ballsie rednecks in that time. They couldn't fuck the whore but nothing said they couldn't fuck what was eating the whore.

The slut eating the whore didn't seem to mind, so a line quickly formed up on her sexy ass and ten dollar bills began getting slapped on her back one after the other. In the last thirty minutes of the bizarre bazaar, Diane brought in almost three hundred while Darla languished under a mother's tongue. The bazaar made a killing off the fucking booth - in all, $3,678.25. (Darla let a cute boy peck her pussy for a quarter.)

By nine that evening, Darla, Diane, and Cliff were back in the apartment, wasted but giddy. They were soon in bed naked with Cliff in the middle, happy as a lark with a mother and a daughter hand on his prick, working together to keep him erect. Darla smiled at her mother and said, "You slut."

"Me a slut! You should talk. I was forced. I didn't see anyone holding you."

"Of course not. I'm the preacher's whore or weren't you informed?"

"I was informed with a hand on my leg getting terribly familiar with a place I thought was dead."

"That pussy is anything but dead. Does Daddy know?"

"He should. We screwed the afternoon away and did most of it right behind his chair."

"That figures. Did he say anything?"

"Yes, whenever he wanted anything. Right before a climax, he'd need something."

Darla laughed, then said, "Seriously, was he aware you two were fucking behind his back?"

"I'm sure he was, and I'm sure he didn't care so long as he wasn't neglected. He didn't mind interrupting us. He was a bit of a pain that way."

"That's my daddy. Is he expecting you to come home at a decent hour?"

"No. When we left, it was for an overnight visit. I'm sure he figures we went to a motel. I told him I'd be back by noon. He'll sleep in till noon, so he's fine. He's happy for me, but he doesn't want to be put out, but tell me the truth, Darla. Do you mind sharing Cliff with me?"

Darla met her mother over Cliff's chest to exchange a kiss and say, "Not at all, Mother. Honestly, I love sharing my hubby with you. I just don't want you to have to sneak and steal moments. I don't want any hard feelings to come from this, but it sounds like Daddy is okay with this arrangement. Honestly, is he, and do you see any problems surfacing?"

"He seems to be fine with it. He doesn't want to be neglected, and I didn't neglect him. I was more attentive than ever, sweet as could be."

"Have you discussed this?"

"We don't need to talk to communicate."

"But are you sure he knew you two were fucking. Were you naked?"

"No, but I let the cum flow down my legs. I know he saw that enough times to know we weren't just kissing and talking about sex. That wasn't all he saw. Your husband shaved my pussy at the dining table. Your father turned around and watched some of that during commercials. He has been after me to shave my pussy for years. From time to time, I'll shave the lips, but he watched Cliff shave it bald without a whimper of protest.

"That was my way of telling him that Cliff gets whatever he wants. His silent interest was his way of saying, go for it, but when I need a beer, you had best stop to get me one. I had to bring him a beer with one hairy cunt lip. He got a beer and a big kiss. I got the finger and a slap on the fanny to send me back to Cliff. That was us communicating perfectly."

"Sounds like it."

"No, there is nothing to hide. We could have done our fucking at his feet. I enjoyed doing it behind his back or while hanging over the back of his chair. He has never seen us fuck, but he has felt us fuck and seen the product of fucking. He knows we do an awful lot of fucking."

"Great! I guess you have a lover. He's going to need one because I have one too."

Cliff said, "Lover? What you have is a pimp."

Darla looked to her smiling mother and said, "All right, pimp. I see that makes you smile. You always did prefer to see me as a whore - a Hooters whore. This must make you happy."

"Honey, I was happy for you as a Hooter's whore. I just couldn't let that show or you might think I was a bad mommy. I'll tell you something else. I was happy for you all through high school, and happiest when you came home way late and well fucked. [looking to Cliff] I'll have you know your wife was the easiest lay in the ninth grade and going out on overnight dates with grown men, sometimes not getting back from a date until well after sunup. You didn't make her a whore, you married a whore. If she led you to believe otherwise, she misled you."

Cliff smiled and said, "She tried, but I watched her work for weeks before asking her out. She had to prove she was a whore before I'd pop the question."

Darla said, "Had I known that, I could have saved him a lot of time and money. I didn't mislead him as much as he misled me. His true colors came out on the honeymoon. I married one kinky motherfucker with a thing for my sexy mother."

Diane said, "I knew that before you did."

"I'll bet you did. You were awfully supportive of this one. I couldn't figure out why. What tipped you off?"

"The first time he came to dinner, he got up behind me while I was trying to take a roast out of the oven. He took me by the hips, pressed an impressive erection into my ass, and whispered in my ear, 'I gotta fuck your sexy ass and eat your gorgeous cunt.' No one had ever said that to me. Your father doesn't fuck ass or eat cunt, but I do think I have a sexy ass and a gorgeous cunt. I was surprised to find a man who could tell without seeing either. I was very impressed."

Cliff offered, "And red as a fire truck."

Darla laughed and said while twirling chest hairs, "I'm sure. I wish I could have seen that."

Diane said, "If you had seen that, you would have seen me piss a big puddle. That was not only the most vulgar and exciting thing any man ever said to me, but that was the boldest and riskiest thing ever done to me. You and your father were in the next room and it got worse. Your fiancee moved my skirt up and my panties down to grind his cock right into my fucking naked cunt. I thought I would fucking die when he did that. I thought he was going to try and fuck me, and I held my position to find out. The heat from the oven was roasting me while I waited."

Darla had that image and laughed as she slapped Cliff's chest and admonished, "Why didn't you slip my horny mommy the weany? You could have pumped her pussy full of cum and made her feel like a cheating slut all through dinner. You could have brought her along on the honeymoon, you jerk."

Diane said, "What makes you think he didn't fill my pussy with cum. The only thing he needed was the balls to do it."

Darla knew he had the balls, and the grin he wore told the tale. She got up on her knees to look down on them both, now astonished as she said to her mother, "You fucking slut! You have been fucking him all along, haven't you?"

There was no venom in that charge, just astonishment, so Diane said, "Guilty. All he ever needed was the balls. He proved to me that he had those. This is the ballsiest man I have ever met. The only reason I wasn't along on the honeymoon was he needed to feel you out on the subject. I was all for it. I have been waiting and waiting. While waiting, I have been getting your father used to the idea of me taking your hubby as a lover. He knows we fuck every chance we get. We started off being sneaky.

"Today it came out, but this was not the first time he saw semen running down my legs after being alone with Cliff, and he has known for some time, now, that I don't wear panties around Cliff. He has been teasing me about that for months and warning me about what you'll do when you find out. He is more concerned that we will be careless with you around. If he sees us messing around when you are around, he'll tell us to get a room. We have done that, and he paid for it."

Cliff was loving this, but Darla couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. Then again, it wouldn't be like her mother to tease or exaggerate. She did like shocking. She did want to get this off her chest. She wasn't the cheating type, but they had been cheaters. Darla sat back on her heels and thought about all she'd heard as Cliff grinned and her mother watched for the reaction, now a bit unsure of herself and feeling badly, even ashamed.

Darla had to think about this whole situation and the marriage she was hip deep in - not exactly what she had in mind - not exactly what she wanted - not exactly what she didn't want, but the whore label never set well with her and the biggest reason was stroking her husband's cock like she owned it.

Darla was staring at that and remained silent too long. Her mother said, "I feel badly about all the deception, Darla, but I am a slave to this man's cock. I still can't believe he would rather fuck me and put you out whoring for another man. He proved that to me today, but I still can't believe it. I am not about to lie here and lie to you or let this hard cock go to waste.

"I have done little else but dream of fucking your husband in front of you. I must do that at least once. I must, and I must ask you to watch from start to finish without saying a word. I don't care how this makes you feel. Please, do this for me. We can discuss this afterward, but please don't walk out or look away. I want to know you are looking at his cock in my pussy. Please, Darla!"

With that said, the mother rolled onto the husband, got up on her knees to fit the bulbous head to her sloppy twat, looking back to see if Darla was looking at that sight. She was. Pleased to see that, Diane sank her twat down on ten inches of lust, then laid her chest on Cliff's chest and engaged him in a passionate kiss while moving her cunt up and down the shaft.

Darla had seen fucking up-close and personal before with a Hooter's pal and good customer, but this was her mother and her bad husband. The sight, always interesting, was now fascinating. Her mother was clearly as turned on and excited as a female gets. Darla got comfortable on her side, lying in reverse with her head resting on Cliff's thigh.

She blew hot breath on the genitals to let her mom know how close she was seeing this decadence. That warm breath got her mother all excited, so excited that she reached back with both hands to pull the cheeks apart, not that it needed that.

Darla was tempted to do some genital licking and kissing, but thought intense watching was what her mother really wanted. When the butt came close, she kissed a hand instead to let her mother know how close the head was. That kiss made a mother cry out, "Oh God!"

Darla smiled, blew more hot breath, and delivered more kisses. She also did some genital sniffing and got her nose wet. Darla still wasn't sure how she felt, but she was happy for her mother. Her mom was never more alive, and seeing her be this sexually alive looked great. Her mom landed a real winner in Cliff. Darla landed a real weirdo. True love might have helped, but the love wasn't true, just nice. Cliff was an okay guy who made good money and great love, but small town living was already growing old even with a bizarre bazaar under her belt.

As for whoring for a good-kisser preacher, that might prove interesting, but that could get old quick, too. He didn't seem that kinky, but he did seem that horny and his lust for money was his weakness. He saw in Darla a gold mine with a husband who wanted her mined. Somehow, that just didn't set right. Not getting a cut of that $3,678.25 didn't set right, either, not after putting in twelve fucking hours. Charity ended at noon. Whoring began at noon. Most of that haul was made after noon. He never offered. A pimp gets a cut, not the whole damn thing.

Darla put those thoughts out of her mind and began stroking her mother's pumping ass, enjoying a side of her lusty mother she never dreamed she'd see much less stroke and breathe on, also breathe in. The horny slut smelled musky, a healthy musky pussy scent, a familiar horny slut scent that Darla never expected to smell coming from her mother. She looked great that way, very sexy. Darla loved the scent of her mother's lust. The obvious interest being shown drove her mother wild.

Diane came twice without making Cliff go off, then got turned around to present Darla with a provocative front view of maternal indecency and marital infidelity, supported by stiff arms, legs wide and drawn in, her stuffed beaver right in Darla's face. Darla raised her eyes from the vulgar sight to look into the face of her maniacal mother, trying not to laugh or crack a smile, waiting for her mother to say something.

Darla didn't wait long, but her mother had to move her sloppy twat up and down the shaft a few times before saying, "I want to know what you think about this, Darla. I want to know what you think of me, but before you tell me, I want you to know that from the moment I saw Cliff, I was determined to fuck him and give him all the pussy he wanted whether you liked that or not, and I was sure you wouldn't. I didn't care. I have been easy for him since day one and only got easier. He's all mine, now, and he gave you to a preacher pimp. He did that for me."

Darla stared at the sight while thinking of her response. Her mom seemed to want it straight and honest, but giving it to her straight and honest would ruin her dream fuck. Darla didn't want to do that or be too dishonest, so she said, "Well, I am shocked, and I can't say that I'm thrilled. I see why you are, but whoring for any man doesn't suit me, especially not when he keeps it all. I'll watch this, but I'll have to weigh my options and make decisions in the best interest of my future. I'm not upset, but I may be going back to Houston and Hooters."

"I was afraid of that."

Cliff said, "Are you serious? Are we talking divorce?"

Darla didn't want to bring that discussion up at this time, and she was surprised to see Cliff reacting so quickly with so much concern. He lost his erection and moved the slut off. That ruined it, so Darla got off the bed and went out to the living room to think and get a drink. She left them to talk and expected one or the other, possibly both to be out soon.

Her mother came out ten minutes later, about nine minutes later than expected and she had Darla's robe on. Darla sat nude on the sofa sipping wine that was ready for a refill. Diane filled the glass, then took a seat beside her nude daughter, placed a hand on her leg rather high up, and stroked from knee to crotch on the inside.

After a few strokes, Diane said, "I was afraid this wouldn't go well, but I had to go for it after going this far. Have you ever wanted anything so badly that you'd risk anything and everything to realize it if only for one time?"

Darla took a sip and looked to her mother to say, "As a matter of fact, yes, today at the bazaar. I have fantasized something like that. When the opportunity presented itself, I had to go for it. You saw how that ended, but I had sex with something like five hundred people today - in public - men, women, boys, girls. I did everything except fuck."

"I took care of that nasty chore for you - in public - another fantasy of mine. I wouldn't mind doing that again."

"I wouldn't mind watching again. Watching you fuck is growing on me."

She smiled, patted the pussy, and said, "I'm glad, but we do have a problem, don't we?"

"I do."

"Cliff is very upset. He doesn't want to lose you. I assured him he wouldn't if he took this slow and easy. He did and I blew it. Darla, all he wanted was a mother/daughter threesome. What red-blooded Texan doesn't. I brought in the whore thing and made that conditional. That was my kink. Call it ego out of control. Tell me to fuck off. Tell the preacher to fuck off, but don't trash your marriage. Cliff is a good man and he does love and care very much for you. You could do much worse, and you aren't getting any younger. This may sound like self-serving advice, but I urge you to keep Cliff."

"Mom, I don't need to keep Cliff for you to keep seeing him."

"No, but I won't enjoy it as much. I love cheating now that I've tried it, but more than that, I love fucking your husband in your marital bed with you in it. I can't promise that switching husbands would make a difference. I think I have to fuck any man you marry. That feels terribly wicked."

"You should see how it looks."

"I can imagine, and I want to thank you for looking at that so well. I never dreamed you'd look that good, so good that you'd get your nose wet."

"I wanted to see what infidelity smelled like."

"You certainly got a good whiff. What does it smell like?"

"Smells like fuck."

"It should. You had your nose all over a fuck, poking your nose in my wicked business, you naughty girl."

Darla smiled, looked deep into her mother's eyes, then on impulse, she took her mother's face and kissed her passionately with tongue. Diane responded instantly and went from stroking pussy to deep fingering a pussy that had been fingered and licked to the point of absolute exhaustion. Darla had to stop that, but said, "Please! This pussy needs rest and relaxation. This is whore pussy - working pussy. What you want is a recreational cunt. You'll find one between your own legs."

Diane smiled and said, "Your husband certainly thinks so."

"He knows his cunts, and Mother, you know I love you, but you are a cunt."

"I know, and your father recently called me one. He isn't taking this as well as I let on, but he is taking it."

"Now, that sounds more like my daddy."

"Yes, but he is mostly concerned with how you'll take it. If he knew you were okay with this, he'd be fine. I dare say we could fuck in his marital bed with him in it. I'd like that, too. He needs a good look and a good whiff of infidelity - a good taste for that matter."

"I wouldn't press my luck."

"I'm not going to sit on his face. I'll take what I can get. I thought you were going to get a few licks in. Doesn't fuck look tasty?"

"I did consider doing that. Would that have made it better?"

"Oh God, yes. That is my ultimate fantasy - you licking us while we fuck and making a total pig of yourself. That's his fantasy, too."

"I should have. Go back and get him up. I'll be along in a few minutes to give you the ultimate thrill. As for the marriage, I'll let it ride. Who knows, it might be a wild ride."

Diane smiled and kissed Darla after getting up. Before leaving, she said, "It will be for me if you'll be a good whore for the preacher. You could be, but I know what is holding you back. The money. Forget the money. This isn't about money, and you don't need money. A good whore wouldn't give a fuck."

"You describe a sex slave not a whore."

"I prefer to think of you as a whore, an owned whore. If sex slave floats your boat, think sex slave, but Cliff and I will think of you as another man's whore."

"And treat me accordingly?"

"Of course. What do we care. You are just a fucking whore."

"Enjoy this, but the fucking whore better enjoy the ride or she goes back to whoring for Hooters. I enjoyed that ride."

"Give me five minutes."

Darla watched her mother prance off and stop at the bedroom door to shrug off the robe and do a butt wiggle that showed pussy. Darla threw a cork at it and hit the clit, which popped the slut straight up and indignant. That hurt. She looked at the cork to see what made that hurt, then to Darla who didn't mean to throw that hard or hit anything that delicate and sensitive. Diane said after picking up the clit popper, "At least you threw the cork and not the bottle."

Stifling a laugh with a hand cupped over her mouth, Darla said, "Mom, I'm sorry. I meant to hit your butt."

"Well, you were close."

"I'm so sorry. I'll kiss it and make it better."

"Damn right you will, but give us five minutes."

With that, she tossed the cork and then entered the bedroom. Darla caught the cork and brought it to her nose, "...ummm...Vin Rose' pussy!"

Darla gave them five minutes, then entered the bedroom and gave them ecstasy, but after that, she was pooped. She tried to sleep, but they wouldn't leave her alone. After an hour of trying to share a bed with them, she got up and took the sofa. Sex slaves need their beauty sleep.

Sex slave or whore, Pastor John had one in Darla. He wasn't sure what to do with one or what god to thank, but he knew how to fuck one. His wife was happy he had one like Darla. He shared. They enjoyed Darla to the fullest and eventually brought in a few friends. They began lending her out and eventually selling her sexual services.

In this way, Darla gradually eased into the life of a sex slave/whore. The ride got better and better. The better it got, the more her mother loved it. Diane's life became a living dream, because her hubby came along at the same rate Darla did. After three weeks, her life was perfect and everyone in it was happy. She went from marital bed to marital bed spreading her happiness.

This is a story with a happy ending if we end it here, so we'll end it here, but you can imagine what went wrong. Okay, I'll tell you. The preacher and his wife got kinky. The ride got too rough. The whore returned to Hooters, and the marriage fell apart. The ride was fun while it lasted, which is true of all roller coaster rides and meals at Hooters.

The End


Comments

  • Anonymous said:
    1 year ago
    This was a great story I really enjoyed and yes it turned me I stayed hard from start to finish..............