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I despise the word slut but by the commonly held definition of the term, it's a label lots of people are happy to pin on me. I prefer to think of myself as a serial adulteress and despite what I've just confessed to, I love my husband and family dearly. The handful of people that know and help me to keep this secret, privately disagree with my professed love for Steve, citing actions that blatantly put my marriage and family in peril. I have no doubt however, that I could pass a lie-detector whilst stating my genuine love for my husband, even whilst being fucked to climax by the device's operator.

Was I always like this? It depends on which bit you're asking about. I was sexually promiscuous from my mid-teens and loved the feeling of power I felt when I was able to effortlessly attract and then seduce most of the men I set my sights upon. Until my moral compass caught up with my sexual proclivities, I cut a swathe through many dozens of both single and married men, using it to my advantage in terms of assessment marks whilst in high school and then Uni, repeating the pattern when I started working. Such was my rudderless ambition, that I was even able to sustain a three-month affair with my middle-aged female department manager, despite neither being gay or bi, nor giving up regular sex with other men in the company during this period. Suffice to say I won a lucrative promotion and the superior in question transferred quickly to another department when her husband, and one or two of her peers, began to ask uncomfortable questions about the amount of time she was suddenly spending in the office.

It would be easy to attribute the maturing, some would even say birth, of a moral code when I first met Steve in my late twenties but the truth is, I allowed both him and his mate to take it in turns fucking me in a top floor bathroom with a dented door that would not lock at a co-worker's house party. Although I was a moderate drinker, I rarely drank to excess and was generally in control of myself and the situation in these circumstances, but I do remember being enamoured enough by Steve's rugged looks to allow both men to fuck me without condoms and as their cum dripped into my knickers over the next half an hour, I hoped that neither would make me pregnant nor diseased.

I met Steve again at a company sundowner a month or two later and despite the fact he had a much prettier woman on his arm as he walked through the door at the start of the night, I had his relatively impressive cock in my mouth ninety minutes later. Steve had the good grace to feign illness when we returned to the building a short while later and took his date home before picking me up again from a nearby pub and spending the night wringing orgasm after glorious orgasm from my trembling body. Here perhaps is the time to share the fact that I am neither beautiful nor extraordinary in terms of my height, weight or figure. I am merely a normal, relatively attractive woman, no different from the dozens of females that you pass on the street every day without a second glance. My gift is that I genuinely enjoy the sexual company of men and I am able to effortlessly communicate that to them. Couple that with an unfettered desire to please myself physically without the normal societal restraints applied to women's sexual behaviour and I tend to stand out in that crowd of a million other average looking women.

To label what Steve and I did as "dating" after the company Sundowner, is a huge misnomer. What he did, was to fuck me to the exclusion of other woman in his life. That said, so frequent and unfettered was our sex life, that he probably had neither the time nor the energy to pursue other women. My compromise to myself was that I no longer set out to seduce new sexual partners, contenting myself with simply maintaining the two other men in my life who I fought to juggle with the increasing number of hours I spent in Steve's company. A year passed in this manner and I was able to not only keep hidden my other sexual partners from Steve, but to keep my promise to myself not to develop other relationships. I was content to allow this situation to simply meander along but when Steve shocked me with an extremely romantic proposal in a five-star restaurant, taking place only hours after Graeme had fucked my arse and then taken photos as his thick creamy semen bubbled out, I stunned myself by agreeing immediately and happily. It was only in the small hours of the morning as I lay naked in the inevitable wet patch left after our lovemaking, that I realised how much my life was about to change.

And change it did. As a last hurrah, I spent the early hours of the

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