One guy spit on me a few kicked me saying they would never fuck a slut like me. I got up soaking dripping wet covered in mud and walked to my car only...wearing a garter belt, ripped stockings, wet blouse the group really laughed when they saw my tiny cliltlit. Being so humiliated and degraded I started to leak by the time I got to the car I was flowing my orgasm. I opened the door reached in to get a towel I keep there to dry off some. I got in drying my face and hair. The passenger door opened. She had a light, sweet scent behind her, not a perfume, but maybe a body spray or her soap.A tingle started in my pussy, a certain idea crystallizing in my mind. She sat with such alacrity.“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” I asked her.She nodded her head. “The breeze feels great.”“And the honeysuckles smell delicious, don’t they?” I asked.She glanced at the trellis and inhaled deeply. A smile crossed her pink, glossy lips. She nodded her head, her black hair swaying. “They are. I see why you’re. " I saw a pile of clothes on a log. I pulled off my shirt and tossed it on the pile. I kicked off my flip flops. Last, I unzipped and pulled off my shorts. As I tossed those aside I saw three pairs of eyes locked onto my loins.In stories, the guy's cock always sticks straight up like a telephone pole or lightning rod or some such phallic symbol. Me, on the other hand, I was embarrassed by their attention. I could just see one of the girls saying, but in pictures they are so much bigger. Or, why. Not just one, but a bunch of other men. We've been together for 3 years and married for 2 and I have been knowingly (although unwillingly) sharing her with any man that has come along since the day of our wedding.Well, that's not entirely true. Holly doesn't cheat on me with just any man. She has one basic qualifica-tion for the men she allows between her legs. Big cocks. Holly likes big cocks. Not just your run of the mill 7-incher. No, Holly likes guys who are hung like bulls. I've watched.