Chelsea’s 34b breasts bounced up and down as she rode her husband’s dick. She tried to look like was enjoying herself, but his 3 inch thing he called a dick barely twitched her. He didn’t notice her fake expression because he was lost within himself. It didn’t take long before he grunted and shot his cum into her. She tossed her leg over him and climbed off.

“Did you enjoy it?” He asked.

“Absolutely.” She said. ‘How does he not get sarcasm?’ She asked herself.

At least he gave up being on top. His fat 250 pound body almost crushed her, which wouldn’t be bad if he was competent, but he was terrible at sex. Always cumming in under a minute, tiny dick. Chelsea briefly wondered why she married him, but then she remembered.

The money. He wasn’t rich, but he made enough so that she didn’t have to work.

“My business trip starts tomorrow.” He said. “So I’ll be leaving early tomorrow.”

‘At least he won’t try fucking me that early.’ She thought. “I’m gonna take a shower.” She said, getting off the bed.

She grabbed her phone and walked into the bathroom.

She turned the volume all the way down and proceeded to search for something to masturbate to. God, she needed to get off. Before she could though, she received a text.

Darren the screen said.

“Fuck.” Chelsea muttered under her breath.

She hadn’t heard from her ex since she dumped him for her husband now. But damn, if he wasn’t great. Six foot 2, with 12 inches of cock. She wondered what he wanted before opening the text, and gasped at what he sent

It was her. Lying naked on her bed, breasts and pussy on full display. The only thing on was a smile. She remembered Darren taking that picture. The phone received another text, and another picture popped up

On her knees, breast dangling. Another text and another picture.

She was asleep. Her shirt pushed up showing her breast, nipples hard, shaved pussy on full display.

Chelsea put her hand over her mouth, shocked at the pictures. Darren had always like pictures of her and had taken them often, but she never expected him to actually keep them. Her phone displayed an incoming call.

It was Darren. Chelsea peeked out the bathroom door and heard the sound of her husbands snoring. She shut the door, locked it and answered the call.

“Did you get my messages Chelsea?”

“What the fuck do you want.” She hissed, trying not to speak too loudly.

“Just wanted your opinion. Do you think those pictures would be better on Facebook or Instagram. Or how about Twitter?”

“Delete those pictures now.” She demanded.

“No.” Darren said. A small word, but with heavy implications.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘no’?” She asked.

“What I mean is, if you don’t want these pictures, and all the other ones I’ve got, you’re gonna do some things for me.”

“I’m not doing shit for you.”

“Bitch, I will print out thousands of copies and hang them in every store you’ve stepped in. I will mail them to everyone you’ve ever spoken to. I will attach your name, your address, your entire fucking life story on them unless you do what I tell you.”

Chelsea remained silent. He wasn’t bluffing. Darren never bluffed.

“I know your husband is leaving for his business trip tomorrow morning. After he leaves, you will do whatever I want until he comes back. You WILL do this. Or these pictures will go viral. Now I’m gonna hang up. And here’s what you will do. You will take a picture of yourself. And you will send it to me. Do that, and I’ll know you agree to my terms, and I’ll text you instructions.”

The phone clicked and Chelsea lowered it. Her mind raced. She wasn’t going to do it. She wasn’t going to blackmailed by this man. But then she thought of her husband. And his 3 inches of dick. And then Darren. And his 12 inches. She wanted the cock. She wouldn’t admit it, but it was true. She wanted it inside her. But could she really let him blackmail her just for some thick cock? She wasn’t ashamed of her body. She liked it. It was a good body, and if everyone saw it, then she figured it would make the world a better place, right?

But what about her husband. He would be embarrassed. Everyone would laugh at him because of her. She should do it. For her husband, of course. But could she?

She would be cheating on him. But if he didn’t find out, it couldn’t harm him, right?

Chelsea picked up her phone. For her husband. Not for the 12 inches of cock that would fuck her. She was keeping her husband from being humiliated. She opened the camera. For her husband. She set the timer for the picture and set the phone on the counter, she waited.

She didn’t realize she had a smile on her face until she saw the picture the camera was taken. Her nipples were hard, but that was probably because of the cold, not arousal. And her pussy must have been wet because… because… She sent the picture.

A few seconds later she received a message.

‘My place 10:00. Don’t be late.'