It was too late to try and catch up with him. Brad pulled on my hand so I started moving. He led me to where we started and our clothes lay in three different piles. “Come on, let’s grab our clothes,” he said.“I don’t know,” I said. I looked to where Rocko was halfway across the pond, swimming hard to win a competition that neither of us had even tried. I could feel droplets of water on my body, in the middle of my back, down over my buttocks, my thighs and my crotch. Brad was quick to grab up his own clothes before moving to Rocko’s. Part of my back and stomach clenched at what he was doing. I moved to grab my own clothes.“Don’t do that,” I said.“Come on it will be funny,” he said.I knew we were doing something wrong. It felt like I was pushing through some kind of barrier in space and time and like I was ripping apart some kind of connection with Rocko at the same time. But I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t stop Brad. It all just felt so dangerous. It would be nice to see Rocko. He added his partners would be there to meet me…I was stunned. He wanted to share me with other strangers. Then I protested, telling him I was not a street whore…Buck laughed and slapped my face, telling me to shut up.Then he explained those men were his clients and they loved to fuck slut married women like me; because their own wives were too conservative to please them in bed…I was angry but I knew he was right: I was a perfect whore now; fucking a strange man behind my loving husband’s back. I was ashamed but part of me was thrilled at the prospect of men wanting to pay money to use my body as a whore.Victor had gone that morning on a quick business trip and would not be at home that night. So, after office I went home and got ready for the encounter with those men. I picked up a very sexy outfit. I showed up later that night wearing a leather miniskirt and a tube top; with my round boobs straining to stay inside. My legs looked even longer standing on a couple of sexy high heels..
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