Slut Mode

Deborah dug the way her husband Kenny didn't dare stop after he came but went right on rodding and reaming her country crock until every ounce of the hot cream was beaten into butt-butter. She was rocking forward on her knees to his top-speed tempo, slobbering and smiling into the stiff white hotel room pillow. She loved the jerky splatter of his cum inside her cunt, loved the anxious snarl of the blond moustache on Kenny's face as his dick went semi-soft and she took control away from him and got him started tending to her own business. Deborah was kicking and thrashing with urgency, her rump tipped high up and jolting juicily along his boner. Keeping a guy going when he thought he was coming. That was just one of the things she had learned in the ten years since high school. It was all part of getting into slut mode.

"Hurry up, Deb. You're gonna be late," Kenny gasped. He was squeezing her tight rear-end tight around his fat ten-incher, trying to put a fuck-lock on her furry fundaments. But Deborah fought back. She wouldn't let him make her. He had no right. No right at all. Not when she was just finally getting her ass into slut mode.

The best part was, he actually could do it, if she could just keep his prick hard long enough. He was pounding her veal cutlets flat and hot and tender, tickling her titties, taking her right downstream no matter how hard she swam away. Deb knew there was more than one reason she had married this fucking stud--she just couldn't remember what the other one was. "Oh GOD, yes. SCREW me!" He had her by the ankles now, running her chin crazily down the mattress like a wheelbarrow race.

Debbie wondered who she'd make it be this time. She liked to turn Kenny's fine fucking into a fresh fantasy each time, dress it up in fancy costumes and call it by somebody else's name. Today, because of her high-school reunion happening for sure it would have to be some skinny sophomore guy from Rochester Senior. Out in the dirt lot in a van "gettin' tardy" with this cool upperclass chick. He'd be stripping down her panties and driving his horny young body into her lusty cunt just showing her how much he really knew where to put it and what to do with it.

Debbie always liked getting screwed in a different place. They'd be making that van rock and roll, laughing to themselves as they thought how it would look from outside, bouncing all over on its four wheels. They'd be getting off as they heard the starting bell for second period echo loud and jangly in the empty brick courtyard.

"DEBBIE! We'll be late for the reception!" What was he bitching at her about? Kenny could be such a worry-wart! "Just FUCK, Kenny. Don't WORRY about it," she gasped.

Deborah reared back and sat on it as the sudden orgasm blasted every silly daydream right out of her pretty head. The full length of Kenny's proud pole drove her knees bang apart and wobbly and he began to spin and twist his fuckwork on the vertical lathe, pinching and clenching her stiff nips as he knocked the chips and shavings off her pleasure. "OHHH AHHH. OHHH AHHH." she moaned. Don't make it end. "OHHH WOW. OHHH BABY!"

Deborah unkinked her shaking legs and stepped off the hotel room bed, stretching her arms up over her head, airing out her stinky pits and letting her firm flat boobs dance in front of Kenny's eyes. Her husband was propped on one elbow, his fat dog laying lank and long across a muscular thigh. She loved to show off this way, see if she could make the pink puppy stand up and do more tricks for her. "You better get ready, Deb," Kenny said again, "Wouldn't want to be late for your own High School Reunion."

"Oh ALL RIGHT!" Debbie was still wearing the black spike-heeled shoes she had picked out for the Rochester High School reunion, and now she strode haughtily into the bathroom in them and sat down on the pot, squeezing out a pee and letting the gobs of sticky cum dribble musically down into the bowl beneath her as she smirked back at Kenny through the open door.

Looking at her touseled blond hair in the vanity mirror as she wiped, Debbie got back to business. She bet they wouldn't even recognize her at first the way she was going to sweep her hair up like a princess and have the killer diamond earring set that Kenny had scraped and saved from his sales job to buy dangling against her tanned skin. She already had her evening wear picked out and laid out on the other bed. This was going to be too cool!

Debbie liked dressing slutty almost as much as she liked to screw. She was already imagining the entrance she was going to make. The guys would all stop talking and look around when they saw this babe strut in the door in her slinky black dress. They'd all be thinking "How come I had to marry Marsha," or if they weren't thinking that she'd make them think it soon. At her sign Kenny would peel the furry wrap thing off her bare shoulders, turn her slowly around.

The short black dress was cut almost down to her ass in back, about a hundred and fifty bucks a square yard. But it would be worth every penny Kenny had spent on it to watch the way the other chicks turned green when they saw what a knockout she was in it. Later on they could all be friends again. Right off though it was going to be commando time, get in behind their lines and slit their butts before they knew what hit 'em.

"What are you going to wear, Kenny?" she asked as she hitched her skimpy panties up over her dewy dark bush and snapped them low on her flat stomach. She might need a diversion. "Pair of raggedy gym shorts and a sweatshirt," he answered sarcastically, "Don't worry about me."

It was way past 5:30 by the time she had gotten herself together and she decided they could finally start downstairs. Debbie kept finding a hair out of place, something else that wasn't just perfect. She had to admit she was nervous. But Kenny looked great in the dark European cut suit he had put on to match her dress. The dude knew how to look good. Broad shoulders and a thin waist. A perfect accessory. It was just too bad Kenny had to be such a wimp in real life.

Her husband was getting whinier and whinier the closer they got to the main event. Deb could see him gnawing on his lower lip in the mirror behind her, an expression of childish possessiveness darkening his face as he watched her put the final touches on her makeup. He smiled knowingly at her, talking tough to try to hide his jealous nature. "Ready to make your entrance? That old boyfriend'll have to hide his hard little dick underneath his rented cumberbund when he gets a load of you!"

Debbie almost blushed for a second and then laughed out loud. Kenny was reading her mind again. Yeah. The Class of '83 had had a good crop of dicks the way she remembered it, and there was one in particular she was thinking about. Yeah. Mark Forster. Not so little, either. Even after ten years she could remember every single inch of it long, every single inch of it around, every single inch of it hot and deep inside her horny cunt. "Oh, Kenny. You're so silly," she said.

The Madisson Hotel had set up the reunion in one of the big ballrooms downstairs. As soon as they got off the elevator Deborah started seeing people she knew. "Jaysee, Hi! Hi, Don!"

This was perfect! Debbie felt like having sex. She always did her best in a crowded room. First they signed in, Debbie breaking off to raise up and wave at someone else and then bending over the low table again and searching theatrically for her unfinished signature as the other couples lined up shuffling behind them. Then it was time to mingle.

"I remember all these people!" she giggled into Kenny's ear, pulling him toward her and giving him a big smootch on the cheek. "I can't stand it!"

She could feel herself getting back into slut mode already, wiggling her butt sensuously as she unwrapped her arms from Kenny's big shoulders and stepped ass-back against the man behind her. "OOH! Sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you," she lied. She turned but didn't pull away, smiling a second long up into a handsome stranger's eyes over her bare shoulder until he was ready to say something back and then letting her vision sweep by into the space behind him. Did you know people can fuck with their clothes on? "Look! There's Mary and Mark!" she said to out loud to Kenny, pretending like she always did that nothing was happening, like she didn't try to bump into people, it just happened.

Kenny always got furious when she acted like this. But then she knew he really loved to see her working in her slut mode too. And how was she supposed to do that if he wouldn't let her jiggle their nuts. "Hold that thought," she told the man.

"Mary and I were BEST FRIENDS. We shared everything together. Clothes, makeup, boyfriends...everything." Debbie couldn't help licking her lips. "That's Mark Forster with her. They got MARRIED!" She turned the word over incredulously. "MARRIED. To each other!"

"HI MARK!" Debbie towed Kenny through the crowded space near the no-host bar to where a tall, good-looking couple stood. "How great to see you again! Hi, Mary."

Mark Forster didn't seem at all flustered by how close Deb wanted to get to him. He folded her into his arms for a warm welcoming hug, and for a long second she had the dizzy feeling of standing naked in front of everybody. Behind her she could hear her husband start to fidget as the embrace lengthened. Finally she took a deep breath and stepped back, feeling for Kenny's hand again to try to keep him under control. "it's nuttin', honey," Debbie said in his ear. "What??" He didn't understand.

"Mark, this is my husband Ken. You'll like each other." Not. "Kenny, this is Mark. We used to know each other a long time ago. Oh, and this is...Mary?"

She was really in slut mode now. Deborah rolled Mary's name around doubtfully, as if she wasn't sure she could remember the girl she had shared a locker with for two years in school. She cocked her hip and looked up suggestively at the big-bodied brunette as she pretended to talk off the record behind her hand. "Mary, you lucky cunt! You're just lucky Mark likes them big and tall!" Maybe it was the way the golden wheat color of Deborah's short hair framed her cute face. Lots of times people said it made her look like that movie star--what was her name? Maybe it was the creamy contrast of her smooth skin against her lowcut black dress that made Mary Rogers slide her eyes to the side and take a big swallow from her drink, draining it down in a single gulp. Or maybe it was her knockout figure.

Mary had gotten as soft and spread-out as a sitting room sofa, her body almost as much unlike Deb's trim athletic figure as you could get. She was about three times as wide in the hips to start with, with a big broad butt literally crammed into a pair of tight black jeans. Who would think of wearing jeans to a 10-year reunion like this one? And this was supposed to be a classy event, not booze for boobs night out at the roadhouse! Mary was done up in some kind of frilly tube-top with a neckline stretched halfway down by the weight of a pair of monster knockers. How could a person even walk?

Mary glared hatefully down at Deborah, her full lips twisting. "Nice to see you too, Deb. Still tramping around, I see." As if by reflex she raised the emptied highball to hide her mouth, rattling the cubes as she tried to draw a final dram of alcohol from the glass.

"Remember that time we all went out to the hot springs and Mary got so sick?" Debbie said to Mark, daring him to forget the sight of her with her summer shorts off and her sneakers split to both sides of a picnic table. Attracting flies like a juicy pink melon with a big juicy slice slit out of it, and before she knew it Mark had been right there smearing his face up against her curvy cunt and nibbling her sweetmeats and spitting and sucking her sexy sloppy seeds, while they listened to the sound of Mary urping up behind the tent. But that was just what happened sometimes when a girl had a little too much to drink and another one got stuck in slut mode!

It was like a declaration of nuclear world war. Deb knew Mary would still be steamed about Mark. But who fucking cared? She had more than enough men and missiles to win.

"Hello, Mary. I see your glass is empty. Can I get you a drink or something?" Kenny spoke up. "We can let these 'old friends' get reacquainted by themselves." Deb watched as the idea of putting the make on Kenny came slowly together in Mary's dumb brown eyes. Maybe Kenny could get off on it and take Mary Moo-cow somewhere else while Deb took care of Farmer Brown. Fat chance. Deb knew everything about what Kenny liked. He wouldn't give this bag lady the time of day.

"Kenny, why don't you take Mary over to the bar and buy her a drink," Deborah said impatiently. "Get me something, too, would you darling? Something NON-alcoholic."

"Oh, and Kenny. Keep your hands where I can see them, okay?" Deb added sweetly, pretending not to notice the look of outrage on Mary's face and the sudden guilty twitch her words evoked from Kenny. "Come on, Mark," she said. "Let's wander over by the fountain and talk about old times."

What Deb had always liked about Mark was the way he showed his basic instincts. Inside of ten minutes he had her completely made. She squirmed with pleasure as he came on hard behind her, his arm curling around her waist and pulling her small self under his domain. Then he was kissing her, eating her wide open mouth, taking her breath away. "Wonder if Mary saw that!" she thought. "I hope so!"

The best part of getting into slut mode was finding a slutmaster that could turn it back in on you. Mark was gloating and grinning as he stroked her hot bottom, stood chest close to her pounding heartbeat. "You vicious vixen! You haven't changed a bit, have you, Deb?"

"Oh, no, Mark. I have. Everything's changed." Slut mode meant Deb didn't have to tell Mark in advance about the gobs of white sauce she was serving her seafood up with, but for some reason she really wanted to. "I'm married now! If Kenny was ever to catch us doing what we used to do he'd break your nose and spank my ass skinless."

"You'd like that, though, wouldn't you?" Mark smiled. The idea of a fight with Kenny only seemed to amuse him. His muscles hardened as he held her and Deb had a sudden scary sense of violence. "First he'd have to catch us, wouldn't he?"

Deborah peered through the curtain of falling water that screened them from the noisy crowd at the Madisson Hotel's lobby bar. She still liked the idea of getting Mark back into the caviar and crackers but there were just too many wives and husbands around. "You guys staying in the hotel?" she asked breathlessly, "We better go to your room." She couldn't spot Kenny and Mary anywhere but she knew they'd show up soon.

"I don't think so. I'd rather have my nose broken by Kenny than my eyes scratched out by my darling spouse. We'll use your room."

Kenny always had to be told what to do next, but this big man was making a hobby out of handling her womanly treasures, licking her stamps behind the ears and pasting them his album, playing jingle-jangle with her foreign coinage. Deb wondered how she had ever let Mark get away from her. There had to be a way to get under his skin.

She could feel the cool golden spotlit spray from the hotel fountain against her naked back as he turned her slowly to him, feel the hardened heat of his long muscle through his slacks and against her stomach. Then she was sliding down, setting with her ankles together and her knees apart beneath him and lying her cheek against Mark's throbbing boner as he steered her shoulders slow and sexy. She was teasing temptation, daring him to go public, daring him to put on his cross-training shoes and JUST DO IT!

She could see him thinking about bending her back Beaver-style, unwrapping his big willowstick and splashing her tail into the shallow water. And she'd be scooping the quarters and the dimes off the bottom of the reflecting pool as he did it to her and everybody watched. Slut mode, you know. Cun't never have enough loose change.

"You see them anywhere?" she asked breathlessly. They should have been back with her ginger-ale by now. The scene called for Ken and Mary to swing around the corner just as Mark was stretching up her short dress and slipping his fingerdingers under her underwear. She was dripping from the thought of it. "Remember how you used to touch me in the dark at the movies when you thought Mary couldn't see?" she said, looking up at him. Dirty velvet rough against her nasty naked ass, butter-flavor thick and greasy over her unpopped kernels.

She didn't care if he did or not. The slut in her just wanted to blow his cool somehow, get his veiny dick so thick with blood and juice that he couldn't think for himself any more. Get him to do something he wouldn't forget for another ten years. Make it so Mary wouldn't forget it either. Where were those two?

"Let's go, then!" Mark was slipping his hands up under her arms, pulling her back to her feet and guiding her back through the jungle of broad-leaved plants and ferns around the fountain to the elevator. Deb kept holding back, giggling and pointing and trying to look and see where their married partners had got off to.

In the elevator she kept playing with the buttons, stopping between floors and opening things unexpectedly. "Hello? Hello??" she was saying into the phone she dragged out of the little box on the wall. "Is this an emergency?" the voice on the other end asked. It for shit sake sure was one! Deb's cunt was on crazy fire, her slut mode burning out of control. "Don't hurry!" she begged, "Don't put it out!"

Mark's raging boner was shiny with spit, bobbing head-high outside his pants, and Deb wrapped her slim fingers around it and squeezed as she pulled him into the long empty hallway of the fifth floor. Room 552 was all the way down through a set of double doors, past the ice machine and the fire hose. "I got the key here somewhere," she said, letting go just long enough to feel for it in her purse.

What?!! Debbie stopped, the door just a few feet open. It was Kenny! And Mary! All the blood suddenly rushed to her face as she realized what they were doing, how the tables had turned. Mary's tight jeans lay crumpled up on the floor and her big fat ass was waving around in the air, her meaty legs spread wide open.

Six years of pussy-whipping seemed to have had the opposite effect on Kenny as Deb had intended. Her husband was living the life of Riley, flat on his back in bed, Deb's pillows propped behind his neck as he slurped and slathered his face and tongue deep into her rival's hairy slit. His legs were spread straight, his traitorous dick plugged right into Mary's mouth.

The fucking bitch. The dirty dog! "Shh!" she said, backing into the corridor again. "Mary?" Mark squeaked behind her. "Just SHUT UP, Mark. Come on!"

She was gonna SPRAY the cunt into submission if she couldn't do it any other way! "Take this," she ordered Mark, opening the glass cabinet and handing him the fire axe that was mounted inside. "I-I don't think..." he wavered. But Deb was already ripping the rows of flat canvas hose off the wall and dragging it down the hallway. "When I say 'turn,' turn that water on full blast," she called back. "TURN!"

The thing Deborah always remembered great about her high school reunion was the look of surprise on Mary's stupid smeary face when Deb slammed the door wide, kicked one stilt-heeled shoe over the thick swelling hose and stood inside, two-handing the brass nozzle as the high-pressure stream blew her sucking "6" right off the top of his eating "9". And then there was the victory fuck in Mark's room a few minutes later.

Because slut mode means never having to say you're sorry.