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My life was almost perfect, I was young, married to a handsome man who loves and looks after me, gives me everything I could possibly want; the only fly in the ointment was Carl. Carl is an ex boyfriend of mine from my college days, he was the one who popped my cherry and introduced me to booze, drugs and sex. One of the things I did for him was to pose for the middle pages of the college rag, nothing too daring, but I was only wearing my bikini bottoms with my arms covering my large boobs. I did expose my boobs in other pictures but they were not for publication.

I remember before I posed for the Rag, we were at an all night party, when Carl pulled me into a back room where the air was filled with a sweet pungent smell; everybody was stoned. Carl found us a space on the sofa; he lit up and passing it to me. I have never smoked pot before so only took me a couple of puffs for me to feel it's effects. After we had smoke two, Carl pulled me towards him and he started to kiss and fondle me. Soon my top was undone and my tits exposed to the people in that dim lit room, not that anyone took any notice. Bit by bit Carl strip me naked and spread my legs wide and pushed his nice hard cock into me. The sensation, under the influence of the pot was wonderful, my orgasm, when it arrived, just went on and on. When Carl had finished with me he flopped down on to the floor leaving me naked and exposed. After awhile I felt a new hardness between my legs, good I thought, Carl had regained his erection, but no it was some other guy thrusting into of me and mauling my tits savagely. This totally unexpected and very naughty development caused me to have a massive second orgasm.

Just as this stranger was pulling out of me, Carl called my name and I turned towards his voice when I was temporary blinded by a bright flash. I learned later that Carl had taken a Polaroid of my naked couplings. It was soon after this that Carl persuaded me to pose for the centrefold, using this Polaroid as a friendly lever. I don't remember him being nasty about it, but at the time it didn't seem all that important. Carl and I carried on together for the rest of our time at college and we had a number of pot inspired photo sessions before we broke up, some of them very rude indeed.

All was going great with my life, until my husband got a much-deserved promotion and we moved. His arrival to take over the small town branch was duly recorded in the local paper, along with our pictures; it was this article that alerted Carl to my presents. It was bright sunny Tuesday morning when my front door bell rang and there was Carl, still looking great. We kissed and over a cup of coffee we chatted about this and that for sometime. After a while Carl said we should go upstairs for a while to celebrate our reunion. But I'm married now I reminded him, he said my husband would never know, I was tempted but no I said, I loved my husband. The atmosphere got a little colder, Carl mentioned all the naughty pictures he still had of me, and how my husband would love to see them. I pleaded but in the end I gave in and went upstairs with him. It was like old times with Carl thrusting between my spread thighs. He insisted that I strip off completely, his comments on my figure were very complementary, he said I looked even better now than I did all those years ago.

After that we would meet a couple of times a month, usually at a flat owned by one of his mates. I'm afraid I became comfortable with this arrangement, for Carl was always nice to me. One afternoon when we had finished a great bout of lovemaking when Carl got up and brought over a photo album, as I turned the pages my heart went cold. If my loving husband saw any of theses pictures he was sure to divorce me, one of the later pictures I don't even remember being taken. It showed me naked, with my legs spread and a hairbrush handle deeply embedded in my pussy; Carl smiled at me and told me that I was well and truly stoned at the time. Of course after that, his control over me was complete, he promised that my secret was safe with him and he wouldn't do anything to hurt me, but I had to do anything he wanted.

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Perfect Programmer ***** I used to think programming was the neatest thing in the world. From the day I first saw a computer, in sixth grade at school, I knew I wanted to be a programmer. My dad got me a portable in 10th grade, and I took every computer course offered in high school – a total of four – and majored in it in college. I got a job with a small consulting firm right out of college, and I loved my work. Then, I got an offer from Uni-Tec that I couldn’t refuse. Four times my...

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Perfect Programmer ***** I used to think programming was the neatest thing in the world. From theday I first saw a computer, in sixth grade at school, I knew I wanted to be aprogrammer. My dad got me a portable in 10th grade, and I took every computercourse offered in high school - a total of four - and majored in it in college.I got a job with a small consulting firm right out of college, and I loved mywork. Then, I got an offer from Uni-Tec that I couldn't refuse. Four times mysalary,...

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