The Married Whore And The Cynful Whore

I opened the door, automatically, without thinking about it. Without thinking about anything. Beyond the door there stood Cynthia. She was barefoot, and otherwise completely naked. She must have been naked for a while, too, because her ivory skin had fully recovered, there wasn't a single mark anywhere.

"What the hell happened to you ?"

She walked past me inside, and then as I closed the door, "I had to come see you."

"Yes, but what happened to your clothes ?"

"I have no clothes."

"I can see that. Why."

"I sometimes do this. It's like a dare, you see. I go out at night, sometimes. When I can't sleep. I pick a good place, leave some clothes there. Sometimes I leave everything, but not usually. Then I pick a harder place to lose some more. It has to be pretty hard. Then eventually when all the clothes are gone the dare walk starts. I don't always lose the shoes. Shoes are the hardest to lose, because without shoes you can't run. You have to be really careful. Well, you have to be very careful anyway, but if you lose the shoes it's double trouble, because you can really get caught."

She spoke excitedly, feverishly, using terminology that was specific, ellaborate, clearly created for the occasion. She'd put a lot of thought into whether it's "the dare walk" or something else, whether it qualifies to that revered status of "double trouble" or not really.

"So where did you leave your clothes this time ?"

"Oh, this time I left everything in my room. I walked out naked. This time was different."

"How was it different ?"

"I don't go into people when I go sneak. That's what I call it, going sneak. It's like commando, but for real pros. You have to go where people could see you, but they must not see you. The highway is the best, but it's a little far. Most won't stop even if they do see you. Some will though, and then you have to hide well in the bushes. Sometimes they can be really persistent. I stole the keys of this fat hog once, he was like a god damned bulldog, kept right after me. Too slow, though. So I dragged him away then doubled over to his car and took his keys. He was stuck in town the whole day, actually ended up taking a room here. God was he pissed. But he has no idea who it was."

"Did anyone ever catch you ?"

"Nope. Tee-hee. Nobody's quick enough."

As she said that I raised my hand, slowly, and grabbed her wrist firmly.

"You're caught, Cyn."

"I'm caught. You caught me."

"How did that happen ?"

"Oh I think you know exactly how it happened."

"I think I do too. Tell me anyway."

"As I went out two nights ago, I heard the boys on your porch. I thought that's perfect, once I lose all the clothes I'm gonna circle back and check it out. So I did. There was your wife, dressed in that bathing suit. God it looks good on her. You know you have the best wife ?"

"Yes I do."

"I couldn't leave. I watched for a while, then I figure I gotta go, but I couldn't think of any place I'd rather be. So I rubbed one off and then tried to go away, but I circled back from the other side. She came into view just as she was taking everything off. In front of all those guys! How could she do this ? How ? I willed myself many times to go out there, to go join her, but I just couldn't. I just rubbed myself raw until you went in. Then I watched from the window."

"And you figured..."

"There's nowhere else for me."

"Alright, well. Come to bed."

"Where's your wife ?"

"She's out working." I took delight in that. How many can say this ? How many ever could ?

"What do you mean working ?"

"You know, out with a bunch of guys, taking all the cock she can. Working."

"Whoring ?"

"Yeah."

"You're whoring her out ?"

"Apparently."

"Oh my god does this mean I have you all to myself ?"

"Yes, but don't get your hopes up. I'm kinda wasted."

"Does she make a lot of money ?"

"Not really."

"How come ?"

"Would you stop with all the god damned questions. It's not a regular thing, I just let her go out with the kids this one time because they're leaving tonight. She's not done it before, and she's only making a buck each time one shoots in her. It's for the hell of it, see."

She settled down in my bed, half straddling me as I lay on my side, her cheek on mine. After a moment she put my hand on her breast. I flicked my thumb over her nipple a few times. Her breast was tough like an overinflated tyre, her nipple very sensitive. Young woman, still growing. She starting whispering slowly in my ear, with lengthy pauses

"But don't you want to... fuck me again... like you fucked me... yesterday... please... fuck me... I need you... my pussy hurts without you... fill me up again... don't you miss it... you hurt me when you went in, like a knife... it went away... but you hurt me when you went out... and it's not going anywhere... please... tear me apart again... please..."

Tired or not I was up with this talk, pushing against her belly. I moved to stuff the young slut, but she held me. "Not yet" she whispered, "let me beg you some more."

Eventually I fucked her lights out, and fell asleep with my cock inside of her tight little hole that was squeezing me for dear life. We fell asleep.

But then, there was a knock on the door. The bedside alarm clock said 10:14. "Come in, it's not locked", I yelled. The door opened, and a very worn Kitty scrambled in. She lifted her heavy eyelids a shade, and then "What the hell happened here ?"

Cynthia crumpled up in a ball at the head of the bed. "I... I..."

"Did you fuck my husband, you little slut!"

"C'mere baby." I said appeasingly.

"You! I leave you alone for five minutes!"

"It's been well over eight hours you know."

"I was working!"

"That's my good girl. Don't worry about it, we'll talk it out later. Let's see what take-out you brought."

"Oh, I'm full of it." she said, collapsing on her back on the bed. As I moved sorta to the side and twisted her hips towards me she pleaded "Go easy on me, I'm raw."

"Don't worry about it baby" I reassured her. "I'll just kiss it better, that's all."

As I was spreading her knees apart just before burying myself in her workplace I saw her motion to Cynthia and heard her say "Come here you little slut. Sit on my face. Let's see what you've been up to all night."

Cynthia straddled her, supporting herself on her thin calves doubled over against the wall and on her knees. She leaned out to the side and a moment later I could feel her delicately kissing my poor overused cock. As she was tasting herself on me, alongside the same thing Kitty was eating out of her, it struck me that here I was, a married man eating the cum of who knows how many men out of my wife's pussy, while my wife ate my cum out of my young mistress' cunt that I deflowered but yesterday while that very same wife was holding her open, the very same wife that was eating her out now, while she, the mistress, sucked me off. Do you see how complicated sexual relations can become ? But with all honesty it wouldn't be fair to say Cyn was sucking me off. She was kissing my irritated glans delicately, like so many butterflies. In truth it was an act of love, subtle and ethereal, not necessarily of earthy sexual gratification. Much like my delicate osculation of Kitty's engorged, angry labia.

Kitty's cunt kept giving and giving. The softer I treated it the more it relaxed ; the more it relaxed the more excess fluid it found in its many nooks and folds. By the time I dozed off she was clean, nothing but her own juice flowing out anymore. My penis was the same way, it oozed and oozed into Cynthia's mouth without bothering to squirt anything anymore.

When I came to, close to sundown, Cynthia was gone. I kissed my loving wife, she kissed me back. We were hungry, but showers came first. Definitely. We didn't say a word, not even "good morning". We showered together, in perfect, blissful harmony. There was no need for words. We got dressed and made to the same restaurant, to again devour the first meal of the day at the time many eat the last.

Just as they took our order I looked straight into her eye.

"How much did you make last night, ho ?"

"Sixty-four bucks, Daddy." she replied with playful seriousness. Kitty'd have made a damn good actress, if you didn't know better you'd have fallen for how meek and concerned she faked out to be.

"Are you fucking kidding me ?" I barked at her.

"No, that's right, sixty-four."

"You're a coupla dollars short."

"It was hard work Daddy, think about it. All those young devils wanted a piece of my old ass - and my god, did they get it. Most of that sixty-four was between my legs. A few times I got away with sucking and swallowing, but they wouldn't let me just jack them off on my tits or anything like that. I had to take it all."

"You wouldn't be holding out on me, now would you." I pushed, for the love of the character more than anything else.

"If I had more I'd have given you more. All I want in this life is to give you all I can give, all there is to give. I love you, baby." she said.

I was so struck with the perfect beauty of the moment it melted my knees. I couldn't even say anything. I just sat there like a teenager, opening and closing my mouth. She loved me. She did. Truly. Completely. That's what it is.

"Do you still love me ?" she asked, her meek, concerned tone back in business.

"I do. I love you, Kitty."

"Even now that you've got a much younger slut ?"

"O ya."

"She's so god damned eager." she said, pensively. Then after a while. "So much better than me."

"She's great, that's for sure. But I don't know about better than you."

"She is."

"Let me tell you how we ended up with her." and I told her Cynthia's little confession. She listened quietly, tilting her head in disbelief. "So you see my dear, you caught her. Because she thinks you're so much better than life, or than she could ever be, you caught her."

"What I got, she can learn. Like you taught me, you can teach her. What she got, nobody can get, no matter what they do."

"If you go that way soon enough we're all dead and it's not worth taking the trouble to as much as tie your shoelaces. Let's have a drink and forget this silliness."

"Good idea."

As the drinks arrived, I told her what I meant by being a coupla dollars short. She enjoyed the opportunity to wail and complain. "There I go, working my ass off, literally, for you, then you go squander it all away on some dumb hussies that don't even do it right. Do you know what it takes to earn a buck, mister ? And then I come home wasted and I find you in bed with the god damned maid!"

I shook my head. I had to agree - she had a very good case for divorce. "So do you want a divorce ?" I asked, to keep with the story.

"Like hell," she burst out, "so I have to pay for the lawyer on top of everything else ?"

The thought of her working out a divorce counsel bill through last night's procedure so as to be rid of the guy that sent her there in the first place was for some reason extremely amusing, and we burst out laughing like schoolchildren. It was the height of comedy, what can I tell you. I suspect the reason so few people can see it that way has something to do with how few people's relationships are quite solid enough to joke about things like that.

We briefly considered returning the LeBaron - we always rented the same car that we had borrowed off her brother for our original honeymoon, a 1972 Chrysler LeBaron. It was impractical to own, but we always managed to find one with the rental agencies to take the trip in - just so that we'd be stranded and have to hitch-hike all the way back to Ohio.

The thought was very appealing, watching Kitty fuck as many truck drivers as she could during the seven hundred mile trip. We could tell them we're going the closest town over each time, take days to cover the distance while getting who knows how many dicks in her each day. We could just you know, take our seats then tell the guy that we have a rule that Kitty has to be naked whenever she's in a vehicle, ask the driver if it was a problem then see how long it'd take him to make a pass.

We might have done it, if we were travelling alone ; but we weren't. It'd have been too risky for the girl, we both agreed. We had responsibilities now, after all, once we agreed to take Cyn in. Besides, who knows what crazy case of crabs she might have caught from all those unwashed dudes.

The evening passed in pleasant banter over drinks, and then we headed back. We went by Cynthia's home, talked to her folks, the whole thing took half an hour and turned out to be a lot easier than previously thought.

That settled, we decided to leave the next day. The word was that Cynthia is to pack at her leisure, come over when done, and we'll leave sometime in the morning ; and on that note we said our goodbyes.

We barely had time to sit down and fix a drink once back in our room, when there was Cynthia at the door, carrying an old fashioned, rigid suitcase.

"Whatcha got in there, honey ?" inquired Cynthia.

"Nothing. It's empty. See ?" and she opened it and showed us the utter nothing inside. "I'd have thrown out the clothes I'm wearing, too, if you'd have let me. May I throw them out now ?"

"And ride naked all the way to Ohio ?" Cynthia nodded. "No honey, I'm afraid we can't do that. We'll get pulled over and then where will you be ?"

"Alright. I figured." she said, a cold, exhausted woe in her voice.

"You can take them off for now, of course." Kitty encouraged her.

"Thank you Ma'am." and within a moment she was the Cyn we had grown to know, naked from head to toe.

We fixed her a drink, long on the juice, short on the vodka. She started to protest, but then thought better of it. She was clearly on her best behaviour, intent on not ruining her dream coming true.

As we were sitting and sipping, Kitty broke the silence

"Does your dad beat you, honey ?"

"Sometimes." Her expression changed, suddenly, and deeply. She was on the brink of tears, and far from the air of maturity she'd usually if somewhat transparently display, she looked about nine. Just a scared little girl, lost and afraid.

"How ?"

"I... I... I'd rather not talk about it", she managed, almost sobbing.

"That's fine, but you have to anyway." said Kitty, firmly.

"He... he makes me go in my room... and go ass up face down on the bed... that's what he calls it. I have to leave all my clothes at the door. Everything. That's how everyone knows I'm going to be punished, because they see the clothes at the door. Then he comes in... and he takes off his belt... and he..."

"That's ok, honey." Kitty comforted her, smothering her head at her breast. "That's ok. That's all gone now." Cyn sighed once deeply, then started crying with gulps and fits.

Once she settled down, Kitty spoke again, calmly, reassuringly. "Now go ass up baby. Martin's gonna take off his belt and beat you." She eyed me. I nodded back. Cynthia however panicked, you could see terror gripping at her every muscle.

"But why ?"

"It's for your own good, baby."

"But I don't want to."

"I know you don't. But you have to anyway."

"Please." the little girl begged. "Please! Please don't beat me. I'll be good. I'll do anything. Haven't I done everything ?"

"Yes you have, baby", gurgled Kitty in her ear, reassuringly, lovingly. "Yes you have. You've done really well, and you're very good." Her words seemed to reassure the girl, and her body relaxed slowly. "He's not going to punish you, he's just going to beat you, that's all. These aren't the same thing."

"But... but why ?"

"You see baby, you can run away from one man, if you don't like him, but you can't run away from the beating. The beating, that you have to take. Otherwise you'll just end up running forever, from yourself."

The explanation visibly resonated with the girl, she brightened up, turned around to me and smiled. "Will you beat me, Mr. Arnett ?"

"Just a little."

"Hit me hard. Please. I can take it." she then turned to my wife "Is it ok if I say when ?"

"Sure, baby."

"Whack!" she suddenly exclaimed. I cracked her one, not particularly hard, but by any reasonable estimation sufficient.

"Hit me harder, Mr. Arnett. Hit me real hard! Please! I can take it!" she said excitedly, and then a moment later "Whack!"

So I cracked her a good one, she recoiled in pain and the welt cut her buttocks, bright, vivid red. She almost started crying, "Ow!" but then a moment later "Whack!"

I hit her slightly lighter, but not by very much, she just gasped and came back "Whack!" immediately. I gave another one, even lighter, not that she could tell with her butt on fire as it was. "Whack!" came the answer right off the ring of the belt.

"That's enough, Cyn." I said. "You've had enough."

"Really ?" she raised her head.

"O yeah. You had plenty, baby." Kitty joined in reassuringly.

"Am I still good ?" she inquired, irrational worry widening her eyes.

"You're very good. You always were very good." Kitty purred. "You were in a bad spot, but that's history now. Don't worry about it. You'll be fine, you'll see."

"Thank you." she whispered very quietly. "Thank you Mommy. I love you."

Turns out there's more than one way to get a daughter, and if you go the right way you can end up with a daughter that's a pleasure to fuck. It's what happened to us, at any rate. I have no idea what was so enticing about the Cyn's zebra-like ass, but as I leaned in to kiss my wife my cock found its way in by itself, and then we just locked like that. Kissing one while plumbing the other, is there a better use of one's time ?

We stopped to buy the girl some clothes in Alabama, in a sleepy mall somewhere between Greenville and Georgiana. The place had clearly seen better days, but they had a decent selection and Kitty took advantage of the opportunity to introduce Cyn to the more social side of public nudity. The two of them went by themselves while I had a beer at a bar across the street. I was the only one there, aside from the bartender, a sleepy, round fellow. They were the only ones there aside from a single sales woman, an older, rotund, sleepy woman. Maybe they were married. Kitty had Cyn strip completely in the booth, and after taking a few things to her to try inside just got her out, stark naked as she was.

The other woman raised an eyebrow, but Kitty homely told her aside the young'un can't wear anything underneath for a few days, on account of some trouble with her grades in school. The other woman nodded approvingly, and congratulated Kitty for keeping the girl well in hand, "somebody gotta teach these youngsters the length of their nose ; it's a pity more people don't like you do, Ma'am."

By this procedure Cyn ended up with a nearly complete Country Western darlin' wardrobe which she was slowly shedding years later still, an enduring interest in banjo twang, which in fairness may well have predated the entire adventure, as well as a much healthier attitude to being naked, in public, among people.

Other than that we reached Columbus without further incident, broadly speaking. We sleept one night in a room in Nashville that looked almost exactly identical to the one we had left behind in Florida, and by the time the sun was lowering towards Springfield we passed Grove City and began, as they say, the first day of the rest of our lives. But about all that, maybe some other time.