Ashley 's Addiction

This is fiction. No fictional characters were harming in the writing of this story.

Ashley and I are practically honeymooner. We have been married just over one year and still getting to know each former. We met in college, as many young married coupled have done, and it was a whirlwind romance. We were both seniors and met in a Statistics and probability class for our clientele School grade. She was a Finance John Roy Major, and I was a Marketing Major. math is not my strong retinue, so I asked Ashley to tutor me. That was the beginning of our Romance, and I was instantly smitten with her. She was a rarified combo of beauty and brains that I fell in sexual love with. She helped me pass that year. She was a whiz at calculating probability and doing risk of infection Analysis. We both graduated that leap, and I asked her to conjoin me.

We both got career business associated with our different arcdegree. I went into Corporate cut-rate sale with my Marketing Degree, and she went into the insurance policy industriousness and got a risk of infection analytic thinking berth. For our wedding she invited a cadre of guys whom I had never met. They were all body of work couple, and she seemed very close to them. Two of the guy cable happened to suffer gone to our same university and knew her there. In fact, one of them was creditworthy for her being hired for the job she got.

soul at her caller started a Football pot and even though she knew nothing about football, she began betting on the outcome of college and pro football plot. She quickly became overzealous about watching all the plot and had spreadsheets in front of her about participant and statistics. She was very enthusiastic about the outcomes of these games, and I could not see until one day she let it slip that she was betting on the outcomes.

Ashley had a good income, and I did not care that she was betting money on these games, as long as it remained a friendly and manageable amount of money each hebdomad. She'd be happy when one game ended if she had bet in good order, but when the very next secret plan started, she'd be all wound up about that game's outcome. Betting on these game became her solid focus of the calendar week. I was beginning to get a bit concerned.

When football time of year was over, her chemical group would go on to other manikin of gambling. They had poker nights at various guy's abode one day a hebdomad and she'd be gone for hour on those nights. I was not a card player and had no interest in just sitting there watching a stove poker game, so I never went. She'd come home after a long night of fire hook playing and be exhausted. She'd take a shower and go directly to bed. We had sex, like about Thomas Young married yoke every Nox, except her poker nights.

Having sex with Ashley was always the highlight of my day. She has large sensitive nipples and full knocker, and she is an adventuresome sex better half. When she and I would purpose dally she was always the somebody taking risks and pushing the boundaries of our sex sprightliness, which I loved. Ashley would affect to be a senior high school finance person, betting on the outcome of a business deal, and we would often pretend that she lost on her bet. She'd have to do some extra sex act for me if she lost. I loved playing that biz.

I learned, quite by accident, that she would draw bets with her poker playing buddies the Lapp way. If she lost a big hand, she might have to take off her top. I found out when she came home one night and had forgotten to put her bra back on. I saw her sorting of sneak into the house, and I noticed her tits were loose under her sweater and saw her prominent nipples poking out of the material. I asked her about it, and she said her bra was uncomfortable and took it off on her drive back home. I did not recollect much about it until it happened more than a few times.

When she began playing on Saturday nighttime, without me, of course, it began eating into our prison term together. I decided I needed to jazz more about the game that she was playing and her chemical group of men that she played with. I asked her if I could join her one of those dark. She was not felicitous with that but did it anyway to mollify me, I suppose.

I went with her to her poker night. They had a card table set up and there were four men and her playing. I was watching TV in another room and not paying practically attention to their game when I heard voice of the men, cheering on some resultant. I peeked into the game domain and saw her on her knees, giving one of the guy wire a cock sucking. She had her mouth locked around this guy's prick and was feverishly sucking him.

I walked into the elbow room just as he climaxed. I watched as he pulled his dick from Ashley's oral cavity and jacked off all over her face. I was dumb struck. I ran in and demanded to fuck what was going on. She just looked at me and explained that she lost a high-risk hand and owed the winner the BJ. I began yelling, and told her to get cleaned up, that we were leaving. She just looked at me with a puzzled expression on her face, as she wiped his cum off that was dripping down her chin. She said,"What is your job ? It is only a blowjob !"

I asked her as we drove home how often she had to perform a sex act as constituent of the fire hook night. She confessed it happened quite often. It was a way for her to bet on a high-risk hand without having to pay any money. I was astonished. I told her no more poker dark. She was pissed off and went to bed in our Edgar Guest room that nighttime. We did not have sex again for a week.

Ashley began traveling for her workplace on overnight duty assignment. I did not understand why a danger appraisal somebody would take to go out of town for a meeting, but kept my mouthpiece shut. Supposedly the company paid for her hotel and change of location costs, so I never saw any spending for her traveling. I watched her behaviour and could see that every travel date was on the Lapplander day of the hebdomad, each week. I paid attending to her clothing she packed, and it was banner stuff. But one clock time, in the winter, she was supposedly going to Chicago for a meeting, and she did not pack a clayey coat. The airport in Chicago was closed due to a winter storm, but she claimed to have stayed there anyway. She came home the next night, like normal and did not mention the frigid conditions in Chicago.

She began making serious income from her job, and we depended on it for our life-style. I knew something was going on, but I did not live how to address it. On her next week's overnight trip, I took a day off from my job and followed her to shape. I had put a tracking gimmick on her phone, to see if she was still in her home bureau. She was, all day, but had told me she was going to an out-of-town client meeting. Then the tracking device showed me that she drove to a private home in our area. I drove to her fix and saw several auto parked in the Lapplander driveway that she was also parked in. This was a typical suburban home with a fenced back yard. I saw one of the cat whom I recognized from her home bureau arrive late to that Lapplander house. I did not jazz what to do. I sped off and went to a local pub to sort out in my head what she might be up to.

About two hours later I drove back to that house, not knowing how to confront her. I slipped into the mansion's back yard and made my way around to one of the window so I could see in. There was a table of men, and Ashley, playing cards. I spied on them for at least a one-half hour and was set up to leave. Then suddenly the room erupted, and all the men were rapturous about some outcome. Ashley threw her circuit board on the table, apparently losing that handwriting. Then she began taking off her wearing apparel. And all the men in the room began doing the same think. She quickly stripped naked and climbed on top of one of the naked men who was now seated on the lounge. She climbed on his lap, and I could see her pass his dick into her cunt. There was another man who stood behind her and then shoved his dick in her too. I could not enjoin if he was in her ass, but that is what it looked like from where I stood.

The former guys surrounded them on the couch, and she was jacking off person while some former guy stood behind the lounge. Ashley began sucking that guy's prick. The whole group of men apparently knew they were going to fuck her. I watched in amazement. I could not believe my wife was fucking all those cat during a poster game. What really amazed me was that I got an hard-on as I watched. She fucked the guy under her until he apparently came in her. Then the guy behind her frantically fucked her, then pulled out. I presumed he had cum too. Another guy stepped in and began fucking her ass when the first guy pulled out.

I watched for another hour. Ashley had changed lieu and was hanging off the couch with her head and shoulder on the floor. Her ass was still on the couch, and I could clearly see that every man took a turn fucking her ass, then moved down and presented their cock for her to suckle. She was doing an Ass to Mouth train with every guy there. Every man would pull out of her ass and cum in her backtalk or on her face. And she always sucked them off when they were done shooting their cum. During all this, I had pulled out my own stopcock and was stroking it as I watched her fuck all those guys. I climaxed and iridescent my loading on the brick paries of the house, just underneath the window I was spying on her from.

Then individual decided that the party needed to act to another character of the sign and all of them went upstairs, probably to a bedroom, to continue fucking. I felt purge to my tummy. I did not know if I should barge in and interrupt the sex company or just go home and delay till she came home tomorrow. I decided, meekly, to go dwelling house and wait. It was a retentive night for me. I could only opine what kind of sex number she was agreeing to at this house.

When she came home the next night, I calmly asked her how her business trip was. She had several prepared input about it, and what was accomplished. I just burned inside. She showered and we had formal sex. My alone way to get a hard on was to remember seeing her taking all those dicks in her ass, then sucking them off. I managed to do the husbandly affair and we had vanilla sex as we normally did. I did not confront her about her trip.

She had another of these every week"overnight"trips for work and I followed her this time. I stood outside that like windowpane and watched her make love every man who was playing cards. They would sometimes make love on the kitchen counter, or the couch or on the story. But every time, all the men would bonk her in the ass and cum in her mouth, like I witnessed the first night. I did not know if she was using the posting biz to get a work party strike, or if she was gambling at a high-risk point and if she lost, the termination were that she'd have to fuck everyone. I could not get word the conversations, but regardless, these guy cable all were fucking my married woman, and I was just watching from outside. I felt silly and helpless.

I went around to the front door of this theater, and it was unbarred. I walked right in. I found the men, naked, and surrounding my wife, in a sexual free for all. There was at to the lowest degree two men with their prick buried in her jam when I barged in. I stood there, then asked"What the screw is going on ? ”.

Ashley recognized my representative and instantly began untangling herself from the naked organic structure. She looked at me in a coldness stare and said,"what are you doing here ? ”.

I told her I knew of these poker secret plan and was here to intercept it."Really ? ”, she said with ball over sanction."What gives you the right hand to barge in here, uninvited ?"

I just looked at her and said"I am taking you dwelling house. Get appareled ”.

The men all looked guilty as sin and instantly got dressed and left. The homeowner got dressed too but hid out in the back of the house. It was just Ashley and me, staring at each other.

Needless to say, it was a strange ride home. I had her leave her car at that star sign and to turn on with me. I bluntly asked her what she was thinking about by fucking all these men. She could only contend off binge and explained that she could not avail herself."The shiver of making a big bet, even if I lost, was more exciting than anything you and I do together ”. She said. And added that she needed to do it, for her own sanity.

My sex life with Ashley nearly stopped at that compass point. She and I were fucking less than one night a week. She said her work was stressful and she just was not in the climate for sex. This was quite different than when we first were married and had sex nightly and did all that theatrical role playacting. All that came to a gradual arrest and now I knew why. She was getting gang banged every week and my miserable attempts at love making could not assemble her current level of sexual gratification.

She secretly had other ways to place wager and take gambling risks. She would do individual betting with a gaming society in town and sometimes lost a noticeable sum of money. I had memory access to her bank account statement and could see some chair sum of money of cash leaving her story fairly often, but aught excessive. I followed her is the like manner as before, tracking her with her cell speech sound. She would repel to a indisposed part of town and duck's egg into a business after work one or two days a workweek. I followed her in and talked my way past the woman who was controlling approach to the business. I told her I was from out of town and heard they had gaming stations set up so a person could play poker or summercater bet. The noblewoman let me in.

There was a large way that had hulk TV monitors set up with various sports being played. There were screen that had percentages of wager and information that I did not understand being updated instantly. I did not know if this was a legal gaming business or something else. All I knew was that Ashley was involved. By this time, weeks after I confronted her poker night sex, I no longer saw any immediate payment going out of her business relationship, but it was still affecting our married couple. I never saw Ashley that dark, but based on her phone locater, she was in this building. I again went nursing home and did not present her. I was a washy, miserable husband. If I confronted her, she would say it was her money, and she'd spend it however she wanted. What I was more concerned about was her losses that did not get paid off in immediate payment. What sex Acts was she performing in lieu of Cash, I wondered ?

I went back to that business enterprise and talked to the adult female controlling approach to the gaming area. I began asking more questions about what betting was offered, and if there was a more extreme way to enjoy gaming than just making stakes. She understood and took me to a room where there was a large video monitor."This is where some of our Sir Thomas More hardihood client have to pay their stakes off ”. She pulled up a transcription and there was a cleaning woman ( not my wife, thank good ) who had made some kind of bet, and apparently lost. She had a sudden terrible expression on her typeface, and two men rushed into the way with her. They began ripping her wearing apparel off. The lady just stood there, stoically, and allowed them to strip her bare. Then they pushed her to the level and fucked her in every emplacement imaginable.

"Wow, that char must have made a very large bet to risk getting fucked by those two men ”. I said. The young womanhood escorting me looked at me and smiled."You don't understand. The betting measure does not demand to be tumid. There are some people who will risk everything just to gain a bet. The money is not big, but the risk is. This lady you just saw placed a low bet on something that she had no clue what the risk was. When she lost, she paid up with her organic structure. She bet her own body as payment."

"How often do hoi polloi build these bets that are shown on this silver screen ? And is this a recording ? ”, I asked pensively.

"If you are interested in becoming a indorser, we will hash out pricing. But yes, every bet is recorded. We sell the sub * * * * * * * * * * * ions and there are hundred of yard of viewing audience who pay to see the consequence. That is the early part of the bet. The endangerment is that the person who loses, also has the humiliation that thousands of other people will see them fall behind and get to witness the betting individual being forced to pay up."The young ma'am looked at me and smiled. She knew she had just made another sub * * * * * * * * * * * ion sale. I paid.

I went family and set up a word to the betting web site. I got into the division where all the bets were made and paid off. There were thumbnail photo of the person making /losing the bet and it was divided up by sex, slipstream, age, etc. so I could keep apart my wife from others, if she had been filmed.

It took about a half hour of screening out others, but I found a thumbnail of a cleaning lady who looked like my wife. Her section of the videos was just identified with a number, like it was her penis bit, perhaps. It showed a lot of videos of her in that section.

My heart was pounding in my thorax as I clicked on to the foremost thumbnail picture. Then, the video began. There was an explanation of an odd betting circumstance printed on the screen, and then two contestants. Two woman betting on different event for the issue. I think my wife was betting against the early char. I did not understand what was bet, and maybe that was knowing. They wanted the spectator to be excited and surprised to see what the takings was. I was on edge to know the outcome. This was compelling viewing.

There was dramatic music and conversation, but it was not important to me. I skipped ahead to see the effect. Suddenly, my wife had a dejected flavor on her font and was dragged off the set by the former charwoman. Then they cut to a bed, where my wife was now au naturel. The former woman was naked too and had her slit straddling my wife's typeface. My married woman was eating out the other adult female and being filmed doing it. And perhaps one thousand of subscribers saw her do it. The scene continued and I watched my wife charter a giant dildo up her ass and then suck it clean and jerk. I saw her bat the ass of the former woman and make that cleaning woman squirt on my wife's case. All the typical Lesbian human action were done, and my wife was the one performing them on the winner. The former woman totally controlled my wife. The"show"ended by my wife getting fisted and later pissed on by that other woman.

I had combine feelings about what I saw. I was depressed that my wife did this and kept it hidden from me, and I was also very stimulated. Seeing my wife doing those sex Acts of the Apostles was out of theatrical role for her, and her debasing herself was a immense turn-on for me to watch.

I clicked on the next thumbnail in my wife's section. She was again standing in a studio apartment, next to another cleaning lady. Both women were having some discourse, and the interviewer was passing the microphone back and forth as both char made comments. Then the music got spectacular, and the little screen was brought into sentiment. There were numbers flashing and some kind of final result. Then the computing device screen showed my wife with a vast smile on her expression as she hopped up and down, clapping. The other lady was not happy, and a radical of men dragged her off camera. Then, they showed another room where the Lady who lost the bet was taken. She was pushed to the floor and a dozen men gathered around her and forced her to take up their shaft. She had them thrust at her constantly and she struggled to take in all of them, at least briefly. Then the men all began shooting their cum in the lady's sass, face and hair's-breadth. In just a few minutes all the men had deposited a blast of jizz on her. She was then lifted up and whisked away. There was a hand-held camera following her. The lady was dripping cum from her chin, eyes and hair, as she was deposited on a busy downtown sidewalk. The camera followed her as she tried to find a taxicab or a ride to get away from the populace space.

There was another thumbnail that I was compelled to click on. It showed my married woman's face again, sitting next to a tumid dog."Oh, no, she did not bet something and have to throw sex with a dog, did she ? ”, I said to myself. I fast forwarded the moving picture and there my wife was, on her knees with that dog frantically humping away on Ashley's back side. The tv camera zoomed in and showed the dog's hawkshaw buried in my wife's lovely ass. There was about 10 instant of her being locked together with that animal, then the dog dismounted.

Ashley quickly turned and found the dog's large penis and began to take up it. She pulled off of the dog's cock and the television camera easily captured sperm being sprayed into Ashley's mouth and on her face. She looked like a demoniac mortal as she eagerly sucked that dog's tool. I was totally get. But I rewound that telecasting and watched her again and again. I pulled out my throbbing dick and jacked off, timing my orgasm to when the camera caught her being sprayed with K9 cum.

After I recovered from my orgasm, I continued scrolling thru the other videos to see what else Ashley had done. But then I found a black thumbnail that had whiten letter saying,"Live Event ”. Then it gave the metre and particular date. It was going to take place late tonight in my time geographical zone. My wife was going to be a dissident and broadcast in real time ! Holy shit.

I set my phone alarm for the issue to begin. When the alarm went off, I quickly clicked on the black and snowy thumbnail to get back to the maculation for my wife's broadcast. I was sweating and my heart was pounding in my chest. This was the most involved in a video programme I had ever been in my spirit. No wonderment the sub * * * * * * * * * * * ion was so expensive. This was must-see TV.

I clicked on the thumbnail for the live upshot. Sure enough, my wife was on the screen, and with another womanhood. The other cleaning woman was interviewing my married woman. I studied the other woman and realized it was the same lady who showed me around that betting business and sold me the sub * * * * * * * * * * * ion for this show. This became more concern as the moments crept by.

There was a lot of makeweight chattering, but I didn't care about any of this and wanted them to get to the payoff. I wanted to see my wife do despicable affair on television camera. This was becoming an uncontrollable dependence for me too. The screen showed more photos and short vids of my married woman. The vids were of her paying off by bets. In one TV she was pushed out of a van in a John R. Major city, completely naked. She had to go into an position and retrieve some variety of leaflet and come back to that van. She had a complete look of embarrassment, but when she jumped back into the van she was elated.

Another forgetful vid of her past was being strapped to a gizmo, naked and wooden leg spread. There was a masked man with a whip, who began beating her bare tits, belly and her cunt. She had red streaks on her white meat and across the rest of her torso when this was finished. This must consume been a time when she would not have sex with me, so I could not see her marks.

So, all these unretentive vids led up to her current bet, happening tonight. It seemed like the video recording that I saw of her kept getting more extreme, the more current the video particular date was.

If that was the suit, that there was a progress to the extremeness of the act on television, I could not imagine what she'd be willing to do, Thomas More than what I had already seen.

Back on the know event, the interviewing woman asked my wife a question. My wife answered. The reply did not mean anything to me, so I presume it was some vernacular that meant something to the gaming industry.

Then, the camera focused in on my wife's beautiful expression. She looked worried and pensive. The interviewer turned to look at another screen as did my wife. The result of what my wife had bet on was to be shown on the new screen, apparently.

There was suspenseful music playing in the background as both my wife and the interviewer stared at the smaller silver screen. A set of numbers flipped onto the blind. I suppose those numbers were what my wife bet on. Suddenly there were flashing lights on that screen and exclamation planetary house flooding that small-scale screen. The photographic camera panned back to the studio and my wife stared at the screenland with a shocked expression, then collapsed to the storey."What the the pits ? ”, I wondered."What looney or dangerous thing did she bet on ? And it looks like whatever it was, she lost her bet. ”. I yelled to the screen.

Then the program panned back to the interviewer, who had an white look on her aspect. Then she indicated for the viewers to see the smaller screen. It showed a suburban neighborhood, and it was a pitch-dark night. Then the screen switched to something portable as if the camera was being handheld. The camera panned to a egg white van that pulled up into someone's driveway. The sliding door opened, and three men dressed in tactical gear jumped out and ran up to the front room access of that house. They had a battering ram that instantly broke open the door. I stared at the screen door, mesmerized.

Just then, I heard a gawd dreadful sound of Wood shattering against sword. The crashing sound were echoed by my computer speaker system. I heard the door breaking from the computer and from my own house ! I was glued to the computer as the handheld camera followed the tactical soldiers into that house. It was dark and difficult to see any clear images, as they swarmed into that house. They had visible light on their helmets which cast a jerky glow to the interior of the sign they just stormed into.

I caught a legal brief glint of calorie-free out of the corner of my eye, then looked down the hallway. There were lights and commotion, and articulation yelling in my sign of the zodiac."What the perdition ? ”. But I could not block up watching the screen.

The epitome on the computer screen were of the cameraman following those SWAT guys who had arm drawn, headed down a hallway. I saw ignitor in my hallway. I turned back to the computer screen. I saw the camera operator filming the SWAT guys as they aimed their artillery at someone sitting in front of a computer screenland with his back to them. I slowly turned to look at them. The man on the computer screen also slowly turned to seem at them. This was VERY COMPELLING TV. There was a jumble of noises and flashes of lighter as the beams of brightness level produced by the helmet flashlights were jumping around the room in a crazy way.

I looked back at the computer blind, and my mastermind tried to class out why I was hearing the Saame sounds in my own family as was on the blind. The beams of light and yelling suddenly filled my eye and ears. I could not break away from the estimator concealment. I had to observe. Suddenly, I realized that the incline profile of the person on the information processing system screen looked very familiar. I turned to face up the lights and noise and realized that it was me that was being filmed. Those disembowel artillery were aimed at me.

I turned one lowest time to front at the estimator screen, just before slam rang out. My dresser exploded and I flew against my computer desk. I looked at the screen and the tantrum showed the back of a man, with sour red blotches that were rapidly expanding in the cloth of his white dress shirt. Then, the scene shifted back to my wife and the interviewer. My wife had a stunned look on her cheek and all the gloss had drained from her. She was crying.

The covert then cut back to that home invasion. There was a man, laying against the computer admonisher on his desk, in a pool of his own blood line, as he leaned on his desk. He had just adequate military strength left before dying to face back up at the electronic computer filmdom and see his own confused, blood splashed typeface. Then, in his last moments, that man on the screen realized that his married woman had just lost a bet that cost him his life sentence. The wretched asshole on the TV cover that thousands had just witnessed being executed was me.

The estimator blind switched back to the interviewer, who calmly looked at her clipboard and read out the details for the adjacent case, with escort and times. I was bleeding out and would soon be dead, but it looked as though my married woman was planning to pee-pee another bet on future workweek's most compel TV display .