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For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

This is a revised version of the story that I published on Smashword starting back in 2014. It is rewritten with much-added material. However, I did have to age up some of the characters so no one is underage in this version.

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Click here for Sidestory: Slut for Cops.

Click here for Naked Jogging Club Chapter 1.

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Tuesday, June 11th, 2013 – Madeleine Rowe – South Hill, WA

I wondered how Louise was doing as I jogged out of my driveway.

On Sunday, I had found the poor, young woman sitting in her car watching my next-door neighbor’s house. Louise had said her husband, some cad named Mark, was shacking up with Desiree Fitzsimmons, my neighbor. Desiree was Brandon’s second wife. The hussy clearly didn’t marry Brandon for his looks—he was a troglodyte of a man, short and balding. And now she had another guy shacked up with her.

I never did like the bitch.

So I invited Louise to stay in my house. I felt so bad for the poor dear. When I left for work, she had been sitting in my kitchen watching the Fitzsimmons house, waiting for any sign of her philandering, horndog husband Mark.

When I got home from work yesterday, she was gone. I had just taken off my heels when the cops began showing up, racing up to the Fitzsimmons. I watched with interest and fear, afraid something awful had happened to Louise. I kept hoping for some glance of the woman. Ambulances arrived, and a woman was taken out on a stretcher.

Not Louise, thank the Lord. Hopefully that young woman would survive.

The cops were there for hours, going in and out of the house. They looked like they were working hard on the crime scene, their face flushed from their exertions.

What was weird were the naked women that kept appearing and disappearing back inside. One was even Desiree. And the cops, well, they sure did admire the naked women, but none did anything about their nudity. I couldn’t blame them for enjoying the sight of those sinful women—men were horny pigs at the best of time.

When I woke up this morning, I caught the early news before my jog. The story led the news. Poor Louise had gone crazy and shot a woman in the house last night. She was under arrest now. My heart broke for the sweet, young woman. She looked barely twenty. Too young for prison.

It would be just like a man to get a woman so riled up she would try and kill him.

I understood completely the sort of rage a cheating husband could drive a woman to. I had experienced it when I caught my Albert in bed with his secretary. I had been itching to kill the both of them, but I was a good Christian woman. So instead of putting a pound of buckshot into his cheating ass, I kicked him and his hussy’s skanky butt out of my house and slapped him with divorce papers. Last I heard, he had knocked the stupid bimbo up and they were making each other miserable.

Which serves them both right. They made their filthy bed, and now they could lie in it.

I did say a quick prayer for Louise as I jogged up my street. Maybe she could get off on temporary insanity or something.

It was still early on Mountain View Terrace as I jogged down the sidewalk past all the perfectly-manicured lawns. I half-expected to see Anastasia jogging on the other side of the street. She lived just across the cul-de-sac from me and was always out early to keep her body in shape for her husband.

“I don’t want him straying,” Anastasia had told me once. “So I keep my ass nice and tight. Keeps Stan interested in me and not sniffing after the women at his work.”

It seemed to be working for her.

I turned left on Shaw Road, jogging out to 23rd Avenue. I liked to jog down to Rogers College, circle the campus, and head on home. I let myself get lost in the rhythm of my jogging, my thoughts drifting as cars honked as they passed.

More horny men admiring my assets.

It was flattering.

I reached the light, hitting the crosswalk button. I took a deep breath, getting a brief cool down and rest as I stretched my left calf a bit. There were more cars honking and creating quite the racket. I looked up and blinked in surprise.

Across the road was a naked man and woman.

“St. Peter’s ghost,” I gasped in absolute shock.

The light turned green, and the pair jogged towards me. What was going on? Was there some sort of nudist event going on? This wasn’t Seattle. You didn’t see those sorts of things in South Hill.

The man was a little overweight, his blue eyes twinkling as he stared at me. There was something familiar about him. The woman had black hair and bouncing breasts.

I recognized her. “Anastasia?” I gasped in shock as my naked neighbor reached me. Poor Stan. He was such a nice guy, shame his wife was some sort streaking hussy, jogging with a naked…

My eyes widened. “Mark Glassner!” I screamed. I had seen his picture on the news all week. I turned to flee, my heart hammering.

I took three steps when he shouted: “Stop!”

Mark words seemed to reach right into my soul, squeezing about me. My legs obeyed, freezing in place. I skidded to a halt, almost falling over, but I managed to hold my balance.

“Hi,” Mark Glassner, the dangerous terrorist, grinned at me, his eyes staring at my ass. “Why, aren’t you a pretty one.”

“Please, don’t hurt me,” I begged, trying to force my legs to move, but Mark had spoken, and they had obeyed. Why? How? The news said he controlled people with a gas, but where did he release it from? He was naked and wasn’t holding any tanks or hoses.

“I won’t hurt you,” Mark said. “You have nothing to be afraid of from me. I’m not a terrorist.”

My fear vanished. I felt almost foolish for even being afraid of this man, but then I saw his hard, throbbing cock jutting out before him and yanked my eyes up.

“Hi, Madeleine,” Anastasia smiled, unconcerned that she was naked and in front of all the people streaming by. “She lives next door to you, Mark.”

“Do you think she should join our club?” Mark asked her.

“Oh, definitely,” Anastasia said and hugged me, rubbing her naked body against mine. “Oh, Madeline, it’s the best. You get to jog naked. It’s so freeing.” She stepped back, throwing her arms wide, turning to face the cars. “And afterwards, Mark fucks you with his cock.”

“What kind of back alley tramp do you take me for, sugar?” I demanded angrily. My eyes flicked down to Mark’s hard cock pointing at me. There was no way I was letting that cock touch me. “I am a God-fearing, good Christian woman. Not some sort of…of…jogging floozy.”

“I think you’re the kind of back alley tramp that wants to join my club,” Mark said, a boyish grin on his face. “You want to, don’t you? You can’t wait to strip off your clothes and enjoy the freedom of running naked. Your pussy’s getting wetter and wetter just thinking about my cock filling your cunt and fucking you until you have a mind-numbing orgasm.”

I could feel my cooch moistening. His words unleashed a levy inside me and my pussy flooded the gusset of my panties.

Oh, Lord, I was suddenly as randy as a goat.

“I would like to join your club,” I muttered.

Why did I say that? Just because I was horny? I had fought my desires before. And yet his voice was so deep and powerful that it resonated within me. My eyes again were drawn to his hard cock. What would it feel like inside me? He would fill me up and make me cum so hard.

I wanted that.

Mark just stared at me. “Did you hear me? I want to join your club.” My cheeks burned as I spoke, my thighs squeezing together.

“What’s the magic word?” Mark asked with a smirk.

He wanted me to beg. A wicked thrill went though my body, and I felt as wanton as a cheerleader after homecoming. “Please, sugar,” I husked, “let me join your club? Pretty please?”

“Since you asked so nicely with that delightful, Southern drawl of yours,” Mark said. “Welcome to club.”

A rush of joy filled me as I obeyed him. “Well, I guess I better start strippin’,” I said, my hands already moving.

“Yep,” Mark nodded as Anastasia clapped for joy.

I felt as slatternly as an Old Miss sorority girl at a frat party, but that didn’t stop me from pulling off my tank top. It had built in support, so I just willingly exposed my tits for all the world to see. And why not, they were still a great pair of breasts. Maybe they weren’t as perky as they had been I was eighteen, but they still were quite fetching.

A car honked as it drove by and I saw pink flushing Anastasia’s face. I guess she wasn’t as nonchalant about being naked as she pretended.

“All of it,” Mark groaned, stroking his cock. He didn’t care one wit that people saw him naked. And why not, his voice was so commanding.

I peeled off my shorts, bending over and pointing my rear right at him. I gasped as Mark smacked my rear, stinging pain shooting through me that made my cooch even wetter. Then he gave each of my plump cheeks a squeeze. The older I became, the harder it was to keep my ass as tight as a teenager’s.

“Gorgeous,” he groaned once I was naked, his praise sending another warm flush through me. “Okay, let’s get going. I’m eager to get back and have some real fun.”

“Yes,” I panted, shivering at his intimation. I wanted to be fucked by his cock. I turned and jogged home, Anastasia at my side.

My breasts bounced about as I jogged, up and down, uncomfortably so. I caught glimpses of Anastasia breasts as she jogged beside me. I couldn’t help clanging down at her small, perky tits as they bounced. There was something almost hypnotic about a woman’s breasts bouncing up and down.

“Are you a budding dyke, Madeline?” Mark asked from behind—he wanted to stare at our asses to motivate him to keep jogging.

“I’m no rug muncher, sugar,” I answered, flushing at getting caught staring at another woman’s tits.

“Your mouth is just salivating to munch of Anastasia’s rug, slut,” Mark said and I found myself licking my lips, my eyes wandering down to Anastasia’s rug.

I blinked in surprise, realizing she was a natural blonde. Why would she dye her hair black? Her pubic hair looked as soft and yellow as cornsilk. I wondered what she tasted like. I remember tasting my own honey when I was a teenager and first discovered tickling my cooch.

“Yes, my mouth is salivating,” I finally admitted. “I think I am a budding dyke.”

“Good. Every woman is is bi. You all want to lick each other’s pussies. Right, Anastasia.”

The younger woman glanced down at my pussy. “You’re right, Mark. I do.”

My pussy clenched at the thought of her tongue sliding through my lips. I had a few guys go down on me. What would a woman be like. I’m sure I’d find out sooner or later.

My honey leaked down my legs by the time we reached my house. My curly pubes must be positively matted with my desire. I jogged up to my door, my cheeks red. Anyone of my neighbors could see just how wanton I had suddenly become if they looked out their windows. My keys were in my shorts pocket, and I was fumbling through the bundle of clothes I clutched in my hand when Mark pressed up behind me, his cock hard on my ass.

“I can’t wait any longer to feel your cunt on my cock,” Mark growled in my ear.

“Out here, Mark?” Anastasia nervously asked, glancing across the street to her house. “What if my husband sees me?”

“You said he doesn’t usually wake up until eight,” Mark told her, I could feel his cock between my legs, brushing against the lips of my wet cooch. “Plenty of time,” he moaned as his dick pushed up inside me.

I gasped as he filled me up. His dick felt so wonderful inside me. He pounded me hard, taking me like a bull mounting his heifer for all the neighborhood to see. My honey poured out around his cock, lubing the way for his hard strokes.

“Lord, yes! Fuck me!” I groaned, my pussy needing to be satisfied.

“My husband woke up early yesterday,” Anastasia pleaded. “We almost got caught, Mark. What if he does it again?”

Mark reached out, seizing Anastasia’s black hair. The married woman didn’t fight as he pulled her mouth to his and kissed her. I groaned, pushing back into Mark’s thrust as I watched him kiss another woman as he fucked me.

“You want to be a good wife and spare your husband pain, right?” Mark asked when he broke the kiss.

Anastasia nodded. She gasped as Mark’s hand cupped her crotch and began tickling her cooch. “Yes, I love him. So I don’t want him to know about…us.”

“Well, you’re my slut!” Mark barked, slamming his cock even harder into my pussy. “And my sluts get fucked whenever and wherever I want them to. Right?”

“Yes, Mark,” Anastasia moaned, her eyes widening. And then her face transformed into such wantonness, and she purred, “Umm, your finger feels sooo good inside me.”

“Maybe your husband is watching right now,” Mark whispered. “Watching you from a window. How do you think he’d feel knowing his wife is such a slut for me?”

“Don’t say that,” Anastasia pleaded. “He’d hate me.”

Mark pounded my cooch harder, his balls slapping against my clit. My breasts rubbed against the painted wood of my door, my nipples tingling with excitement. Every thrust of his dick felt better than the last, rubbing wickedly against my sensitive walls. I yowled and hissed like a cat in heat getting mounted by a tomcat. I pushed back with my hips as the pleasure grew stronger and stronger inside me.

“Maybe he’ll pull his little dick out and jerk it, wishing he could make you into his slut,” Mark moaned as he pounded my cooch. “Wishing he had the stones to make you his bitch! All while he’s envying me for making you into such a wanton slut, Anastasia!”

“Yes, yes!” Anastasia moaned, her tits heaving as an orgasm trembled through her body. “Oh, my Stan! Make me your slut!”

Mark pulled his fingers out of Anastasia’s cunt and licked her juices off his digits, savoring her excitement’s flavor. “When we’re finish here, why don’t you go to your husband and see if he’s man enough to make a slut out of you.”

A smile broadened Anastasia’s face. “I will, Mark.”

Mark began really pounding my cooch. Every plunge of his cock made my nipples rub roughly against the door, adding spice to the orgasm cooking in my womb. Anastasia’s panting face was so close to mine, her lips red and enticing. I felt so wicked, so wanton. I leaned over and captured her lips in a kiss. It was my first time kissing a woman, and her lips were so soft, so gentle as she kissed me back.

My hand reached out, grasping her perky breast, squeezing her flesh. Her nipple was hard against my hand. Anastasia moaned into my lips, her hand grasping my larger tit. My pussy clenched on Mark’s cock when she pinched and rolled my nipple.

“Your cunt feels great,” Mark groaned into my ear. “Do you want me to cum in your cunt? I bet you do. I bet you want nothing more than my cum flooding your juicy cunt!”

Oh, god, I wasn’t on the pill. I didn’t have my diaphragm in. But, Lord help me, I did want his seed inside me, even if he might get me pregnant. I was so hot for it.

I broke the kiss, and wantonly husked, “Yes, please, fill my cooch up, fill up my cunt! I want your cum in me! Lord, please, Mark!”

My admission triggered my orgasm, and I moaned my pleasure for all the neighborhood to hear, my fingers squeezing down on Anastasia’s tit.

Mark growled, slamming his cock into me. I shuddered as the hot warmth of Mark’s cum spilled into my cooch, flooding my fertile womb. His sperm could be swimming up to my womb to where a fertile, little egg waited to be penetrated.

“Take my cum, slut!” Mark groaned, slamming his cock into me again, and again. He growled and slammed one last, hard thrust inside me, the last of his cum spilling into my hole. Then he collapsed against my back, breathing hard. “What a great slut you are.”

“Thank you, Mark,” I smiled, savoring being called a slut. It was so filthy, just like jogging naked.

As we stumbled into my house, Anastasia grabbed me and led me to my couch. She pushed me down, knelt, and spread my thighs before eating the creamy mess Mark left inside me. Her tongue felt amazing on my labia. My ex-husband would never dream of going down on me, and none of my past boyfriends had either.

It was amazing.

I shuddered in delight as. Getting your rug munched felt so amazing. Anastasia’s tongue explored all over my cooch, sucking on my lips, nibbling on hard little pearl, and spreading me wide open and digging her tongue deep inside me.

Mark knelt behind Anastasia, lining up his cock at her eager cooch. Anastasia moaned into my pussy as Mark slid inside her cunt. Soon there would be a creamy mess in Anastasia’s cooch for me to clean up. I couldn’t wait to return the favor.

And tomorrow, we would have another jog and even more fun.

To be continued…

Click here for Disciplining the Nun, Chapter 1.

Click here for Naked Jogging Club Chapter 3.

If you enjoyed the story, support me on Patreon!

I have released a part 43 of the revamped Devil’s Pact on Smashwords. Read this post for more information if you’re interested!