Slut 1.0

She woke up that morning with Jonathan. They had met only the evening before. She had been told many times, in subtle and not so subtle ways, that within her was an occasional slut and the previous night was the time to come out. She liked him a lot. His 6 foot two and a solid 200 pounds got her going. Then there was his voice and a teetotaler and his cologne. There was so much she liked about him that her inner slut didn't stand a chance.

She was up and thinking of breakfast while she pulled down her panties admiring the sizable bruise he had left on her bottom and enjoying what was left of the sweet sting.

He watched her actions. “How you feel this morning?”

“Fine. Satisfied. I realize that you don't owe me anything but I really, really want last night to happen again.”

“I like you, too.”

“When I have a man over for the night, I usually don't wear my tightie whities,” she said somewhat apologetically.

“Its okay. When they come off, its all about the same. I mean a cock and pussy enjoying the other.”