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By Caesar

Those were the words we spoke to each other on our wedding day. In fact, standing at the head of the church, we had almost a hundred witnesses to those phrases, including the priest who pronounced us married. I can still remember the echo from the high-domed enclosure as my voice quivered in fright and nervousness. Those damn words, and how my wife's voice was very steady and sure, as she spoke up.
Marie looked beautiful, gorgeous, angelic. I was in love. The dress she wore was white, virgin white, very unbecoming especially after the nights we had enjoyed in the months leading up to that day. The veil concealed most of her pixy face but some of her long wavy blonde hair was revealed in the back. I was the luckiest man alive.
Or at the time, I, and everyone who sat in that hot spring wedding, thought so.
That was a year go.
In fact, it is our anniversary today. A glorious day - one full year of love and happiness. Three hundred and sixty four days we had lived and shared our lives together. Our life seemed perfect, our marriage solid, and our happiness glorious.
We made love on our wedding night with hurried passion, as if this long awaited wedding was simply a dream. The next day, in a small bed and breakfast in Holland, we went slow and made passionate love that lasted for hours.
Those days will always be remembered with great fondness.
It was on our tour of Europe, on our honeymoon, that I first noticed a difference in the woman I thought I married.
But, I'm not here to complain or even to give you a day-by-day account of our one year of marriage. The reason I'm writing this is to simply tell you about what happened on our anniversary. Please don't think I had lost my love for my wife; on the contrary, I loved her with all my heart. I would not have married her if I hadn't.
One thing that was not lacking in our marriage was sex. Yes, if you haven't figured out what this story is primarily about - it's sex. Sex is what first attracted the two of us together and sex is what drove us apart. It was also, not surprisingly, what also woke me up on our three hundred and sixty-fifth day together.
My wife, Marie, woke me as she often does on weekends by making slow gentle passionate love to my cock using her hungry talented mouth. Yet it wasn't any weekend, but our first anniversary. And my loving wife took special care not to wake me. Instead she went extremely slow, using only the lightest of touches to harden my sleeping member. As if often does, it awoke before me.
If you have never been slowly brought out of a deep slumber by a warm moist mouth slowly licking, nibbling, and especially sucking on your cock - you haven't lived life to its fullest. Marie went slow, enjoying her work, each centimeter of shaft moved past her wet lips at a snail's pace. You see, as much as I enjoy waking to a mouth on my cock, she did this because she simply loved to have a man between her lips.
I have come to the conclusion over the last twelve months that my wife loved to be used. Strange conclusion? Before my wedding I would have thought so also - but now I know better. I've learned much over the last year, and have become just a little wiser. To be blunt, my wife likes to be humiliated, sexually speaking.
Remember this is a tale about sex. It's not a tale of love and marriage, but of dirty sex. Extramarital sex if you haven't yet guessed.
I started to moved my hips up, driving my hard cock into Marie's hungry mouth. When it was obvious that I wasn't asleep any longer, her slow loving mouth suddenly became a starving needy sexual orifice. My wife had become a very good cocksucker since I first met her - hell, since our marriage.
My cloudy mind focused and I remembered everything and, as it often does more frequently, I started to really work upon my enjoyment. I mean I grabbed the back of her head with both of my strong hands and held it in place while I drove my hips up, savagely hitting her face with my pelvis. Instead of gagging or attempting to pull away from my rough hands, my loving wife moaned loudly and began to suck even harder.
This is how our marriage had progressed in the last year. As my suspicions and my awareness grew, I decided to use her in the way I would never have used the woman I loved. At least before I knew that she lusted after that type of submission. When I mentioned earlier that I loved my wife, it wasn't a falsehood - just that it was clouded with anger, repulsion, and thoughts of revenge.
Holding her head, I rolled over until I lay above her face, my legs straddling her chest. I then moved into a push-up position and began to really drive my penis into my wife's face. So dispassionate was I of her own predicament I watched her below me. The woman simply went nuts, sucking me with a power that would amaze the most hardened hooker.
With the amount of sex I had been getting the last year, I wasn't about to cum after several minutes of a hungry mouth. No matter how hot it was or how hard it sucked, I simply wasn't ready. I rolled to the side, pulling from her needy face. She groaned and tried to pull me back. I pushed her away, none too gently, and jumped off the bed.
"Happy anniversary, Marie." She groaned before spreading her legs and pushing two fingers into her depths. I was resolved after her lustful display. "Over here, bitch, on your knees." She jumped quickly to obey and knelt with her knees on the edge of the bed, her feet hanging off.
My wife has a beautiful bottom, always had. In fact it was the first thing I noticed about her years ago. Other than kissing, fondling and generally admiring that part of her, we had not done anything else. Until our honeymoon. In a little private cottage in Dover she asked, nay begged, for me to fuck her ass. I admit I was reluctant, and though I enjoyed that round firm ass of hers I hadn't thought of using it in that way. And I'll even admit that I was worried that I would hurt her. So, that first time, we took it slow and gentle.
"I've got your first present for yo,u slut!" I aimed my cock at that wrinkled pink hole.
"God yes! My first present!?" She squealed in delight as I drove forward into her bowels. It wasn't slow nor was it gentle as at that time in the warm little cottage a year ago. The only lubrication she had was from her own wet sex, and I knew it was wet - whenever I treated her rough, used her like the whore she wished she was, she was always wet. Maybe wet is not the right term, dripping sloppy wet may be better. It rolled down her strong slim legs and coated her whole waist area with it. The juices even slid between those firm cheeks and lubricated the area that I now enjoyed.
She was as tight as the first time - the thick hard ring held me firmly as I forced my manhood passed it. I didn't stop until I was seated deeply within her. My wife, well as you can guess, loved it. She was whipping her head back and forth, spittle flying in several directions. Marie's strong back danced as she tensed and clenched as each centimeter of penis was pushed in. I could see her hands turn into claws and grab a large bundle of the blanket.
"You love it, don't you, bitch?" I grasped her round hips and began to pull my member from her ass, the sides stretching as the ring clenched at my cock.
She groaned as the muscle attempted to hold me and it was pulled out with me. "God, yes!" Marie squealed. I loved that squeal - it was music to my ears. Before our marriage it was proof that her own orgasm was not long in coming and that her body was reacting to my actions. It had been an ego trip, and it still was.
My cock drove back into her and she jerked forward in pain and pleasure; the ring was forced deep into her. Things continued this way for another few moments, her asshole becoming more accustomed to me and less painful to her. I began to pinch her nipples with one hand and found and played with her clitoris with the other.
That was enough to send Marie over the edge. She orgasmed.
Since the first time I saw my lovely blonde wife orgasm I could never get enough. She would come with a loud scream, a clenching of every muscle in her body and her head tilted up to the heavens. Marie's body would then sag, as if her spirit had left her, and I could see the sweat break out on her skin and each individual muscle quiver in delight.
I got something out of this too - with my cock surrounded by her anal muscle it had a very pleasurable sensation as it squeezed then loosened up. Suddenly I drove deeply into her, anticipating the next sensation. Her sphincter then began to quiver - it felt like it was pulsating upon my organ and I groaned in my own pleasure. It wouldn't be long before I also finished.
After one of the first times she had an orgasm with me, I stroked her body, held her and kissed her brow with all the love I felt. She mewed with pleasure. Now, I roughly pulled from her asshole and threw her down onto her sweaty back and straddled her waist with my knees. My wife smiled, knowing that if I hadn't finished, then the game wasn't over. She was to be used again and again until I was satisfied - and she loved it.
"Cum in my face, lover!" I grasped each breast and encircled my dirty cock. She giggled with a girlish delight and moved her head upwards to lick at the head of my penis. She greatly anticipated my orgasm. If there was one that I had learned in the last year was that Marie loved cum. She loved it in her pussy, her ass, in her mouth or simply upon the skin of her body. Especially the face, she loved for me to spot my load upon the smooth pale skin of her pixy face. I was disgusted the first time I did it, at myself for what I did to her. Yet she more than reassured me it was okay - she begged for me to do it again!
This time I was rough as I fucked her round tits. They were barely large enough to use in this way, but I knew that they were very sensitive and she seemed to love the rough treatment I gave her. Nor did she care where my cock had just come from, I think she actually enjoys the knowledge and maybe the taste of her own ass upon my shaft. It was disgusting, degrading and filthy - but that is my wife.
I did come very quickly. My pearl-colored juices hit her chin before she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to catch as much as she could. She reveled in it, and she tried to wiggle lower, closer to my cock so as not to miss a drop. Well it did - I let go of her white breasts and squeezed the last drops from its shaft. They left several telltale spots upon the smooth skin of her chest.
"Lick me clean, bitch." She did, with relish and hunger. She tried to wipe the drops of cum upon her chest with her fingers, as she often does before she sucks her digits clean, but I stopped her. "No. You'll leave my cum on you until I give you permission otherwise. Is that understood, slut?"
She giggled and spoke up from tonguing the ridge around the head of my prick clean. "Yes dear. And baby?" She waited until I again looked down into her eyes. "Happy anniversary, lover." Marie meant it, she always meant what she said.
The next hour was spent in our bathroom, as we had a shower together. My loving wife washed me from foot to head, not missing an inch while I simply stood and enjoyed the hot water and her slow soft hands. The proof of my enjoyment soon disappeared as the spray of the water washed away my cum from her skin. I then watched as she quickly washed her own body, not missing any place.
Marie was beautiful. That was why it was difficult in the beginning to use her the way she desired. She didn't look like a common whore, a slut from the lowest dregs of society. In fact, my upper class wife looked like a lady. And to the most part she was. No one that was in that church a year ago would even think I used her so maliciously and she loved me more deeply each time. Nor could they picture my lovely blonde wife kneeling in the center of a circle of four guys, hungrily sucking their cocks.
That was just one of the more recent episodes that I came across. In the beginning it was little things, at least I only noticed the smaller things. Marks upon her round bottom that looked like someone had spanked her with a inch-wide belt. I saw what looked like a bruise, the fourth day of our honeymoon, on the lower side of her breast that I figured to be a hickey.
My lovely wife may look like a lady, but she was a lowly slut. And after twelve months I used her as one. She, of course, loved it. That is what this account is really about, why I sit here writing about our anniversary. How different it was from what I would have imagined just a single year ago.
I actually contemplated resigning my position but the words somehow formed in my mouth, "I have a special present for you, Marie." She beamed at me with happiness as she dried my wet body.
"Another one?" She smiled at her joke, and by the look on her face, I guessed Marie would have been pleased to be ass-fucked yet again.
"Yup. Put some sexy clothes on and meet me in the living room." I turned to leave, fearing my own plan. She had to dry and pamper herself, and could effectively be another hour. My wife, a slut or not, sill loved to spend time before a mirror.
This wasn't the life I imagined or wanted when I said those nasty two words, "I do"! In fact, there should be an easier way out of the relationship I'm in - especially since I feel the woman that woke me up this morning with her mouth is different than the one that stood before that crowd a year ago to pledge her life to our marriage.
I guessed what Marie would wear for me as she appeared in the living room. She wore the white stockings, garters, heels, and a smile - all from that memorable and horrible moment from a year ago. In a way, this was her gift to me, herself as she had appeared on our wedding day.
This day was different. I had planned to undo what I did wrong.
She came around the door frame, walking slowly and eyeing me seductively, which didn't fit the image of the white clothing. Marie came before me and stood there waiting for me. "Happy anniversary, lover! Is there anything else you want today?" She of course, meant sexual. With my wife, it was always sexual.
"Yes, in fact there is." I passed her the leather folder and a pen.
Marie was very surprised at this strange turn of events. "Open and sign next to each red 'X' and be fast about it, bitch!"
Was my hand quivering as much as it felt? I didn't look at it, worried I would give up my game before the cards were all dealt. Marie opened and was about to follow my instructions, trusting me fully as she had always done, when her eyes saw the subject line of the legal document. She sputtered out, "'Document of Separation'?"
I forced a smile. "Yes. And the others are similar. If you turn to the last, you will see that they're divorce papers. All back or fore dated for your convenience, Marie." Her eyes widened and I thought she was about to start crying. She didn't, but her eyes watered up considerably.
When I first came up with this part of the plan, I thought my slut of a wife wouldn't care less about our marriage. So I was surprised at the look of emotion upon her face. Did she really care about me and our life together? If so, why all the late evenings when she returned home half undressed and smelling like a two-bit whore? Those thoughts passed through my head and hardened my resolve.
"Why...?!"
I interrupted, "Shut up, bitch. I sold you, but you can be happy that I took a loss. Used goods are not as expensive as one may think - experienced or not." And she had experience!
Did she really think I didn't know about all those men? Marie had hardly tried to hide her infidelity and my compiled proof about her was easily come by. Photos, audio, even love notes in her own hand writing could all be used as evidence if I needed.
My wife dropped the folder and fell to her knees before me. "God, why?" That question wasn't even worth the breath to answer, she really did think I was stupid. She leaned towards me, her familiar mouth near my exposed cock. "Please, baby - is this some type of joke?"
I reached out and grasped the back of her long blond hair and pulled her towards me. I felt that wonderfully warm wet mouth engulf me with a newfound passion as she tried to suck any divorce idea via my cock. She moaned in delight, thinking that my rough handling of her was my show of passion and determination to continue with our marriage. She was wrong.
I stroked her head and hair. "Its no joke, Marie. Over the last year I discovered you were not the woman I married. So I'm divorcing you." She tried to take her mouth from me to respond, but my hand wouldn't allow it. "I love that woman who took those vows with me, but you are just a shallow slut of that woman."
Tears welled from her eyes and dropped to my stomach. I finally pulled her from my cock and threw her before me on the hardwood floor. "Sign the papers, Marie. Your new owners won't like to be kept waiting."
The moment she picked up the pen I knew I had won, that I had a second chance for a life of love and commitment with a woman. Another woman besides the one kneeling before me. I don't know why she did it, maybe because she trusted me inexplicably or just because of the degrading feeling of being sold. Marie greatly enjoyed being degraded, and the unknown that was presented before her must have felt sweet to a woman desiring that. I guess I'll never know, but I don't much care either.
Marie signed on eight dotted lines, forever changing how our lives would be from that moment forward. And her head hung down as she followed the well-dressed man from my house, a collar about her neck and her wrists bound behind her. I didn't even know where she was going, and I didn't much care. After she signed the documents, our life together was finished.
That's not the end of this little tale; no, instead I'll let you know where I ended up after I sat smiling like an idiot by myself for an hour after Marie was gone. Her scent was still in the air, her clothes in my closet, and her memory very fresh - she would never truly be gone. Yet Marie's version of love was gone. As was the nights that I lay alone in bed wondering who my wife was with. She was no longer my problem. Another man, a man rich and powerful enough to control a slut like that, now had that problem.
I drove to Carol's house.
You didn't think I was the docile and patient husband this whole year, do you? Yes, I'm being hypocritical but I don't give a shit. Live a week in my marriage bed and live the lies and deceit that my wife delivered almost daily to me and then try and judge what I do on this day. My first and last anniversary.
Carol was the woman I thought I had married a year ago. Shy, quiet, gentle and very loving. The lady immediately saw the strange look on my face and led me to her room. She undressed and guided me to the bed. Still clothed she slowly made love to my body, making me forget what I had to do that day with tender attentions. Carol very much enjoyed sex - we had shared this relationship for several months, and she knew how to best excite me. Slow, gentle motions eventually leading to an explosive and mutual orgasm was usually the norm. She knew how my marriage bed had been and our shared sex lives were opposite from that extreme.
Her lips kissed my neck even while her fingers stroked my exposed cock to hardness. "I will marry you after the divorce, Carol."
"I know, honey, and I'll give you the wife you never had." She knew of my marriage, being the one I confided in. "I love you!"
I never doubted it.
I was free and was loved as I always wished to be loved. That was when it happened. I reached around Carol's head and grasped her curly red hair in a firm grasp. Forcing her face back, I threw her off me and onto her stomach. The cock that she had coaxed hard thrust forward and between the curves of her ass. I forced myself into her rectum and never even noticed the scream of pain and fear from the woman who had just confessed her love for me.
"Well, bitch, you want to be my wife, huh?!"