This series is more a documentary of the years Pauline and I were married than just a simple collection of stories. The years in question span from 1990 to 2015.
I started writing all of this down in mid-2024. It was just random notes at first. But as the memories came flooding back, they started getting longer and longer, reading more and more like essays than notes.
Anyway, I have taken a few liberties here and there for several reasons.
I'm not necessarily respecting the chronological order of events.
This is not revenge porn, but however unlikely it may be, somebody could put two and two together.
So some names have been changed, and I have embellished a few things for dramatic effect but also to help blur the lines.
I've also downplayed some aspects, essentially geographical references, names of establishments, and the like.
The idea being that you, the reader, can project the happenings into environments more easily relatable to yourself, but of course, I do this mostly to protect people and places.
So for example, if you've read part one, you may have noticed that I just skipped over some of Paulines adventures, not really giving them the attention they deserve.
I think a few of these adventures really should be told, as they are important milestones in our story, and the following is an excellent example.
In the opening paragraphs, I mentioned the time Pauline got chatted up by a black dude on a bus and let him take her back to his place, where she ended up fucking with all his flatmates.
This was one of Paulines earliest adventures a few months after we moved permanently to the city at the end of 1992 from a small town about one hundred and twenty kilometers away.
Well, there was more to that encounter than meets the eye, and it definitely deserves more than a few meager paragraphs. So, it's confession time.
I set the whole thing up, and Pauline never knew, not before and not since.
The dude in question is called Paboulo. He and his flatmates are all from Senegal. They all came to study in France, and most of them held down part-time employment to help with living costs. Paboulo worked as a bouncer in one of the local clubs I often performed in.
He was a genuinely nice guy, friendly and interesting. We would often chat and go for a coffee if we bumped into each other in town.
On one such occasion, he mentioned that a few days ago he'd seen me on the bus, but he was at the back. There were too many people for him to come down to say hello.
He went on to ask me if that was my girlfriend I was with, complimenting her looks, saying if so, I had good taste.
I thanked him and told him that she is, in fact, my wife. To which he told me I did good to marry her because she looks like a hot one!
"Yep, she is indeed." I said, laughing.
I went on to explain that she likes sex a lot, so we often go to swingers clubs and saunas.
As soon as he said he had found her 'hot', I immediately had the idea to set something up and just went for it! Saying,
"Yeah, and you can fuck her too." and "I mean, if you want to, that is."
"Seriously?" he replied.
"Yeah, of course, even better if you let some of your bros fuck her after you," adding, "I know she wouldn't say no."
I could tell he was hooked, so I went in for the kill,
"Hey, dude, listen, you could all fuck her together if you wanted to." and "She'd go fucking wild for that!"
He couldn't believe it, and for a very flamboyant African guy, he suddenly seemed a little lost for words. Which I found very amusing.
Anyway, a few coffees later, Paboulo and I had finished concocting our plan.
It was quite simple; really, it didn't need to be otherwise.
I gave him a list of several days and times when she will definitely get on the number eight bus at our stop heading into town.
She always went into town on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Mainly just to walk around checking out the shops and to hang in cafés drinking tea or coffee.
All he had to do was:
Choose one of the dates with his mates.
Get on the bus at a stop or two before her, and when she gets on, go up to her and start chatting her up.
Then simply offer to take her for a coffee or go back to his place.
I guaranteed him she would go for the latter. And if, for some obscure unforeseen reason she couldn't, she would take his telephone number and get back to him.
Once there, they could just share her around, or whatever, knowing she wouldn't be able to refuse. Fucking a group of young and fit African dudes is right up her street.
I will never forget later that night after dinner and we went to bed.
Already she was absolutely buzzing when she got home, but our boy was still up, so she just had to wait.
To help keep her calm, I suggested she take a shower before dinner, which she did, and a rather long one at that.
"You'll never guess what happened to me today!" She said as we finally climbed into bed.
At first, I was thinking of telling her that I had set it all up. In the end, I just didn't bother. What difference would it make? None whatsoever. It just seemed pointless.
What was important was the experience and the pleasure she both took and gave.
When she got back to Paboulos place, six of his flatmates were waiting, all of them already very excited.
So with Paboulo himself, that's seven guys. There was an eighth Dude, the youngest of the group, but he wasn't there yet, so that's for later. In the meantime, let the fun commence!
They were all in the sitting room. Paboulo brought her in and introduced her as a 'friend' and went off to'make her a coffee'.
Pauline said as soon as he left the room, several of them just started sizing her up, telling her she was really pretty and getting really close around her.
She said she immediately started getting very turned on. She had already been feeling seriously horny with the idea of fucking Paboulo.
So she started flirting outrageously with them, encouraging them, sticking out her little butt for them to give a little slap as they moved in, strutting around her.
