Tom watched his wife Carrie getting ready to go out for the evening. How her dress sense had changed over the last six months? Now she preferred short skirts and sexy low cut tops or if she wore a dress it would invariable be split almost to the top of her thigh betraying the fact she wore stockings. The dainty bras that supported her ample breasts seemed to hardly cover her orbs but instead pushed them up from underneath to emphasise her cleavage.
Carrie didn't mind Tom watching her because he had never complained or shown any sign of suspicion or jealousy. In fact these days Tom didn't really show signs of anything that involved emotion or excitement. That was why the young housewife was off out as she did twice a week, Thursdays and Sundays.
The story is long but basically for a while Carrie had hinted that their social life was flat, almost non-existent. Tom complained should they receive an invitation to a party and when pressed to take her out for a drink he would go reluctantly. The hints developed into long talks then arguments until Carrie became determined to bring about a change. Confronting Tom, who now only showed interest in his garden or DIY projects she told him she wanted some enjoyment out of life, some fun. Surprisingly when she broached the subject of having evenings out without him he agreed it might be a good idea.
"It's fine," he said, "If you want to go out with friends or workmates then go, I have plenty of things to keep me busy."
His couldn't-care-less selfish attitude made her angry and right away that very week she joined a few girls at a local bar.
So, that was the routine and it wasn't long before Carrie was a familiar face in the bars and pubs; she made a complete new set of friends, both female and male. Tom knew of course, she told him and often spoke about the men saying what so-and-so had said or where Pete was going on his holidays. Carried was a new vibrant woman. Then they started hitting the clubs and now she went out on Thursdays but came home early Friday, an hour after midnight, sometimes two.
"Is it wise being out so late," Tom asked her in the early hours of one morning as she crept into bed.
Carried thought he was fast asleep so wouldn't have known the time but she answered him truthfully.
"One of the guys usually brings me home, a couple of them don't drink, just like to dance – or I share a cab."
Tom once did accept the invitation when she told him they had both been invited to a party one Saturday night. It was a raucous affair, a little wild and no one knew he was Carrie's husband so were not shy about fondling her as she mingled. The young wife showed embarrassment at first looking anxiously at her husband whenever a hand touched her inappropriately or delivered a kiss on her cheek. The kisses that fell on her neck or lips were clearly more intimate. As the party went on though and Tom failed to react Carrie eventually lost her concern assuming her husband wasn't bothered and ceased to knock hands away or avoid advances.
At one point Carrie realised she had been stood talking to a group of friends while the hand of an amorous man had constantly been stroking her arse. Her realisation coincided with meeting the gaze of Tom who until then had been happily engaged in conversation with a couple of men in the kitchen. Had she been on one of her nights out then it would not have been a problem for this behaviour was normal. She was leaning in against the man's body and even wriggled her arse when his finger stretched out to press between her legs. She wondered whether Tom had been watching when, in a pause in the conversation she had craned her head back to let the guy deliver a sloppy kiss on her lips. Tom came over and she welcomed him into the conversation but in her anxiety failed to introduce him as her husband as she was just gratefully relieved that his mood was just the same.
She decided that Tom, her husband of ten years, was simply incapable of being jealous or of really caring how she enjoyed herself when she was out.
The ride home was quiet but after getting out of the cab Tom pointed down the road and suggested that in future it might not be a good idea for the man who brought her home to park his vehicle in the narrow alleyway. Carrie was stunned then remembered whom Tom had been talking to at the party; namely, the same guys who sometimes took her home. Sheepishly she followed him into the house and accepted the nightcap her had poured for her.
"I believe one of our neighbours came across you as he was taking his dog for a walk recently. When you come home late you should be more discrete – he would have been quite shocked finding you sat in a car with two men at that hour, the local gossips will be buzzing with excitement."
How much had the men told him? He hadn't said, 'Getting out of a car' or said 'Being dropped off by a friend'- he was fully aware then that the car had been parked up in the alleyway with the engine stopped and she had been 'sat' in the car, in the dark with two men. The men wouldn't have known that Tom was her husband so would not have found the need to guard their tongues. Wasn't he going to ask why they had not brought her right up to the door – why park in the alleyway?
Carrie remembered the night well – too well. The nosey neighbour, a typical old busy body had obviously thought it his duty to check on strange cars parked in the street. He had seen, to his astonishment, a woman in the back sat between two men and not the petting teenagers he had expected to find. He was further shocked when one of the men opened the door and told him to fuck off calling him a voyeur and many other obscene names. Carrie thought he must have definitely recognised her.
Yes, she remembered that night well; all had a good time, in fact far too good. Feeling very happy and light headed when the car stopped she hadn't objected when the man driving joined her in the back seat, where she was in the arms of his pal giving him a goodnight kiss. She often did this – granted kisses when she got to her door - sometimes it was sloppy and silly – other times it became a little more passionate or sexual though not prolonged. That time she had not got out of the car quite as fast as normal. That night she was finding it particularly exciting and enjoyable to have another man desire her. It had felt really thrilling to feel his fingers undo the buttons of her top and slip inside her bra to touch her nipples.
Just for a minute she would allow his hand to drop to her thighs and creep up to feel between her legs; but the minute became two, then three. She wondered what the other guy must be thinking and knew he had turned in his seat to watch. She was also aware that even in the dark alley he would be able to see that she was allowing his friend to rub her pussy. What could she say when the man got out and climbed in the back to join them – she didn't want it to stop – not just yet.
