by Reed James
I stared up at Clint as he grunted a final time, satisfaction crossing his face. I gave him pleasure, and he made me cum.
* * *
Leyla Umayyah
“That was so much fun!” Kimmy said as the shower sprayed across her body, washing off the cum that had dried in silvery streaks and dribbles across her petite body. She ducked her blonde hair beneath it, rubbing at the cum matting her curls together.
“Yeah,” Izzy nodded on the other side, scrubbing her big tits, a smile on the redhead's lips.
“God, I kept cumming and cumming,” Kendra said, her ebony body glistening as she wiggled her butt into the spray, her fingers sliding through her crack, washing the boys' spunk out of her asshole. “Thanks for showing us what it's like to be a slut, Leyla.”
“Yeah,” I said, my emotions boiling. I had enjoyed it. Until I caught my mother cheating on Daddy. She was a slut, just like me. But a married slut. I hadn't given myself to a man, promised to be only his, and then fucked others behind her back. I was mostly okay with her fucking my brothers, at least they were family. But Clint, Carter, Pete, and who knew how many other of her male students?
No wonder she knew how to train me as a slut! I should have realized it. But I was so caught up in my own emotions, at first scared about experiencing all these new delights, and then so thrilled to be able to enjoy them, reveling in my whorish behavior that I hadn't even thought about it.
Daddy had to know about Mom.
“Leyla?” Kimmy said, giving me a frown. She bit her lower lip, her braces flashing. “Is something...?”
“Yes, something is wrong!” I snapped, my hands scrubbing my dusky tits clean of all the boys' cum. I wanted to just be buzzing right now. I had been gangbanged. So many boys had fucked me. And my orgasms...
So many wonderful orgasms.
And my slut-mother had to ruin it!
“My mother is a cheating whore!” I growled.
“Oh, no,” Kimmy gasped. “But I thought she loved your father.”
“So did I.” My hands clenched.
“Well, I mean, I like your brother.” My blonde friend shivered. “A lot. And... he doesn't mind that I'm a slut.”
“Jalal is a gentle boy. He's not a man like my father. A man expects his wife to be faithful.” I clenched my fists.
“Why should your mother be faithful?” Izzy asked. “I mean, your dad fucks you. You're bringing Kimmy home so he can fuck her, too.”
I shuddered in delight. “I am. He's such a good supporter. He deserves some young pussy.”
Izzy shook her head. “So your dad can fuck you and Kimmy, but your mom has to be faithful? That doesn't seem fair.”
“Of course it's fair,” I said. “Because... because... He's a man. He has needs that slutty girls like me and you stir in him. We make him hard, so we have to help him out.”
“That is so fucked up,” Izzy said. “You have needs, too. We all do. That's why we just let ourselves get gangbanged. You make it sound like it's all right for men to be cheating pigs and wrong if us girls do it. Either it's all right, or it's all wrong.”
“Well...” I frowned then shook my head. “You just don't understand. She's his wife! She's cheating on him behind his back!”
“He's cheating on her with your pussy.”
“She sent me to his bed!” I gave Izzy a hard look. “She was there the first time he fucked me. She told him he could fuck Kimmy. But she never mentioned anything to Dad about fucking my brothers, and she...” My eyes widened. “Oh, my god, she was fucking someone else all last night. Maybe Clint? Or another of her students! That's why she's wearing the same clothes as yesterday. She didn't go home and fuck Daddy which meant...”
“What?” Kimmy asked me.
“It wasn't my daddy's cum I licked out of her pussy!” I let out a shriek of betrayed disgust. “Ooh, she's so horrible.”
“Naw, she's taking her pleasure where she wants,” Kendra said. “Mmm, she doesn't care about what anyone thinks about her. I like it.”
I glared at my friend. Izzy nodded her head. I whipped around to look at Kimmy, my black hair swaying wet behind her. “Do you think she's amazing for being a whore?”
“Well...” Kimmy bit her lip. “I mean, I had sex with Daddy last night, and he was cheating on my mom. That was wrong, but... I liked it. And... I don't want to stop.”
“It's because you're all American girls. You just don't understand. You're all whores anyways!”
“Yeah, being Muslim made you and your mother sooooo different from us,” Izzy said before slapping off her shower. “You really think you're better than us? You had your brothers fuck you before fifty or sixty guys. Then you went and fucked a good half of those. Yep, just a bastion of morality you are. Showing us slutty American girls how horrible we are.”
I flushed. “I'm not better than you. I didn't mean that. But my mother should be. She married him. She swore her oaths to be faithful and supportive. She should have talked to Daddy about it or something. She shouldn't have cheated on him!” I smacked my shower off, the warm water cutting off to a few drips. “And I'm going to tell him. I'm going to expose her! Daddy deserves to know.”
Kimmy bit her lip. “Maybe he does. She is doing it behind his back.” A worried look entered her eyes as she turned off the shower. “I'll be there for you, Leyla.”
I smiled at the support in Kimmy's eyes. Then I hugged her, pressing her small tits into my wet, round breasts. I think she would make a great sister. I really hoped things kept working out between her and my brother.
“I think I know where your mother was last night, Leyla.”
I swallowed, took a deep breath, and asked where.
* * *
Mrs. Umayyah
The guilt brushed my heart when I walked into the house with Kimmy, Leyla, and Jalal trailing behind me. My husband, Karim, walked into the entry hall from the living room, staring at me with dark eyes. I could still feel the warmth of Clint's cum in my stomach, my asshole still aching from his hard thrusts. My husband had no idea I was such a whore.
“How was the slumber party?” Karim asked.
“Amazing,” Leyla said as she passed me. “We had so much fun.” She threw herself at her father, her arms going around his neck. She kissed him, nuzzling into his thick, black beard.
He gripped her ass with his strong, manly hands. I shivered. He had Clint's strength, squeezing Leyla's rump like he owned her as he pulled her tight against him. She melted against his solid form, moaning like a little hussy. My pussy itched, remembering Clint mastering my body.
And my eldest son, Faizel, too, had dominated me. Even Jalal had shown himself capable of forcing my submission.
Would my husband ask about the slumber party? Probably not. At least I didn't have to worry about my daughter. She wouldn't tell my husband about last night. I'd already convinced her not to tell him at all about being a prostitute. I could count on her discretion. And tomorrow... Tomorrow the pair of us would have so much fun with Principal Carver. He paid so much money to fuck us both. I couldn't wait, my pussy getting so juicy.
“My bedroom's this way,” Jalal said, grabbing Kimmy's hands.
Anger surged through me. My baby boy needed to be protected from that beguiling, blonde tramp. Kimmy looked so innocent, with her petite frame and glasses, but she had such a wanton pussy. She'd just been gangbanged by half our college.
She was not worthy enough for Jalal to love. He needed his mother to show him the truth.
“Jalal,” I said. “I need to talk to you first. Alone.”
“Now?” he asked, his cock bulging his jeans.
My pussy clenched. “Yes, right now. You can play with the little whore later. In fact, your sister promised your father a naughty treat. Kimmy's here for him, not you.”
“Yes, Mrs. Umayyah,” Kimmy, my little whore, said. She remembered I was her madam, selling her pussy to whoever I wanted. She gave Jalal's hand a squeeze and broke away, heading to Leyla and my hus
band.
My son opened his mouth to object but then swallowed it as I stalked to him in my dress, my breasts bouncing in it. I had no underwear on underneath. Behind me, Kimmy joined my husband and daughter, nuzzling her “innocent” face into the incestuous kiss.
Karim groaned in delight with two barely legal sluts to enjoy.
I took my son's hand and led him like a puppy upstairs. I felt his eyes on my swaying ass. He ached for his mother so badly. He was such a gentle boy, my baby. I would give him everything he needed. If he needed a hot cunt or sucking mouth to enjoy, I would provide for him. He didn't need that hussy.
“What do you want to talk about, Mom?” he asked as I led him in this bedroom.
I pulled off my hijab, uncovering my black hair. I let it drop to the floor as my fingers went to the buttons of my dress. He stared at me with such hunger, rubbing his hands on his thighs. He was a slender boy, not broad-shouldered like his father or older brother. It made me just want to smother him in maternal love.
“Kimmy,” I said, exposing more and more of my large, dusky breasts with every button I undid.
He shifted.
“You've been paying a lot of attention to her.”
He shrugged.
“You had sex with her this morning.”
“And?” he asked. “I like her. She's cute.”
“She's a slut,” I said, baring my tits to my son. I wiggled my hips as I shrugged out of the sleeves. The dark, conservative dress fell down my waist. It held there for a moment, but my sways worked it over my curves. It fluttered down my thighs, baring my black bush to my son, and landed in a puddle on the floor. “She's a whore. You saw her getting fucked by all those boys. How much she loved it.”
“Yeah,” he groaned, his hand squeezing his cock. “She looked so... so beautiful. A goddess being worshiped. She had such joy in her eyes as she took their dicks.”
“Joy?” I said. “She was a whore! You can't give your heart to a whore.” I moved forward. Below, my husband let out a wild moan of passion.
I could only imagine the naughty things that little whore and my daughter were getting up to. Leyla and Kimmy would distract my husband for hours, giving me plenty of time to love my baby boy.
I put my hand over his covering his crotch, squeezing his fingers into his bulge. His other hand seized my breast, squeezing it with such a boldness. He may be shy, but he could take what he wanted when aroused.
Like he has my anal virginity.
“You deserve better,” I purred, my other hand sliding beneath his shirt, caressing his slender body. He had such a lean feel about him. I rose higher, making him shudder, his hand clenching hard on my tit. “You deserve a woman who is pure. Fuck Kimmy all you want, but don't love her. If you need a woman to love, your Mommy is here for you.”
He shook his head. “I like that she's a whore, Mom. She's like you.”
I flinched at that.
“She's so wanton and naughty. She enjoys it. She puts her heart into being a slut while looking just so innocent.” He squeezed his cock beneath my hand. “Mom, she's amazing to watch. Didn't you see her? Her blonde hair dancing about her face as she took all those dicks. They filled her. And when I slid into her cum-filled cunt, I enjoyed her whorish behavior... I came so hard in her, Mom. Like I do with you.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You can't fall in love with a slut.”
“Why not? You're one. I love you, Mom.” His fingers found my nipple. He pinched and rolled it, sending shudders through me. “You're amazing, Mom. You convinced Leyla to be a whore. And that made Kimmy into one. And... And it was so hot watching her, Mom. Thank you.”
I pushed his hand away, unzipped his jeans, and pulled out his cock. I had to fix this. I had to solve this problem. I stroked my son, staring into his eyes, and said, “No, no, you have to—”
The bedroom door crashed open.
I whirled around, my hand squeezing down on my son's dick, and found my naked husband clutching Leyla's phone in his hand. His swarthy, muscular body bulged with fury. His black beard bristled like a thick bramble of thorns. And his eyes... His eyes burned with rage.
I flinched back.
“What is this, Jawdat!” he growled, his eyes falling on my hand gripping my son's cock like a lifeline.
“I'm just...” I swallowed. “Just helping our son. Like I helped Leyla. I...”
“I can see that!” He marched forward. “My wife is stroking my son's cock. What else have you done, woman?”
“I...” I swallowed, trembling before him. He towered over me and I saw it in his eyes. He knew I'd cheated on him. But how...?
Leyla.
She stood in the doorway with Kimmy, both sluts naked. A... satisfied smirk glinted on my daughter's lips. Did she want to replace me? Did she want her father all to herself? But I thought she loved being a slut.
“I've been watching some of the things you've done,” he growled, flipping Leyla's phone around so I could see her screen. He tapped it
A video played.
I saw myself writhing in whorish passion beneath Faizel, moaning out my rapture as our eldest son fucked me so hard on his bed. You could hear his balls smacking into me. I remembered that day. It was when Leyla came up to talk to me about Kimmy wanting to be a slut. I didn't realized she'd recorded it.
My daughter had been so shocked to find me fucking her brother. She thought...
She thought I was a good, Muslim woman before. That I was what she always wanted to be. She never thought I could cheat on my husband, and then she caught me with Faizel. But I had convinced her that I wasn't a slut. That I was just doing things to help out my sons, or to help her to be a slut. I knew I made her understand why I was doing such wanton things. I even had my story for tomorrow all figured out. How I would “reluctantly” agree to fuck Principal Carver with Leyla just to let her keep being a whore.
“I was just... comforting our son,” I said, trembling. I could convince my husband of that. I had to. “He needed... a woman. And Leyla was busy...”
“Clearly!” Leyla said. “Since I was so unavailable for Faizel to use when I caught you. I mean, I had nothing better to do but watch you two fuck!”
I flushed and looked at my husband. I could save this. I had to. “Karim, I was just—”
“Taking care of my son?” he demanded. Then swiped the phone a few times. “And what about this?”
He practically shoved the phone into my face. The video played and...
“Oh, no,” I groaned.
It was taken only an hour ago. There I was, on my hands and knees, as Clint fucked my ass. You could hear me begging him to plow me, calling him “Master.” My husband's face turned into a raging inferno. I quivered beneath the righteousness of his anger.
And then... after Clint had cum in my bowels, I turned around and cleaned my ass off his dick.
The phone shook with fury in Karim's grip. The plastic casing groaned as his fingers clenched around it.
“You! Were! His! Slave!”
“I—”
“You let him fuck your ass! You sucked his cock clean! You never did that for me! For your husband! But you could be your student's whore? His slave!”
“It's just—”
He seized my hair. “You want to be a slave? Is that what my wife wants to be!”
“I—”
He yanked me out of the room, pulling so hard. Pain flared at the roots of my hair. I bent over, my huge tits swaying before me as I stumble dafter him. He marched forward with all the power of a boulder crashing down a hill, nothing capable of stopping him.
Tears burned in my eyes. My marriage was all over. But it wasn't fair. I was just satiating my lusts like he did with our daughter. I was having fun, like him. What was really so wrong about that? I had needs, too. I needed to be fucked. I needed to cum.
And he didn't give me what I needed. He didn't treat me like a slut.
“My husband, what are—”
“Hus
band!” he roared as he hauled me down the stairs, his every step booming. “Husband! After you called that boy Master you dare call me husband!” His hand twisted, twining my hair around his fist, and yanked me closer to him. I gasped, almost falling down the stairs as I hurried after him. He reached the landing, hauled me to the living room, my son, daughter, and Kimmy following. “Are you that much of a cunt to call me husband after you whored yourself out to your student!”
“You fucked Carter all night, didn't you, Mother!” Leyla hissed as she hurried down the stairs behind me. “He told Kimmy all about it when she asked him. How he paid to fuck you all night long!”
“Just a whore!” my husband growled. “A filthy prostitute. You are my wife no longer!”
My eyes squeezed shut. Tears burned my eyes. My body shook. “P-please, Karim, I should have told you. I should—”
“Do you know what happens to slaves when they betray their rightful owners?” he growled.
“Slave?” I gasped.
“You want to be that boy's slave, but not mine?” he growled. “When I married you. When I took care of you! I paid for your schooling so you could be a whore at your college! And you won't be my slave.”
Something settled into place inside of me. Something that Clint had originally awakened in me that first time I peered through the peephole and saw him with his harem of sisters and his aunt. The way he mastered them. The way he dominated them and turned them into his sluts.
Into his slaves.
My pussy grew juicy even as I trembled in fear. My husband reached his recliner. He sank down naked, his cock thrusting thick and hard from his wiry pubic hair. He was as hung as Clint and my eldest son. Jalal was only a little smaller than them. I didn't resist Karim's strength as he hauled me over his lap, my tits pressing against the armrest, my legs dangling over the other side. I felt his dick twitching against my stomach, his precum smearing on my flesh.
“You want me to be your... slave?” I asked, trembling.
“Want?” he growled. “I purchased your whore body the day I married you. I have been too lax! Too trusting! No longer!” He grabbed my ass, squeezing my butt-cheek hard. “Say it!”
