Chapter 3: Coming Home
It started to rain as we headed for the car and Ryan and Dave dashed for the front seats but Cherry protested that Ryan had been 'referee' in the quiz before, so he couldn't drive as it was his turn to answer questions on the way back. It wasn't until she snatched the keys away from him that he gave in and allowed her to drive. He came in the back between Sharon and me.
Soon the CD was on and Ryan was answering like an expert - it was on his favourite era.
"This is no fun." Cherry moaned, so I suggested that we put it on random so we got different topics.
"You can't just keep firing questions at me until I get enough wrong, though!" Ryan complained.
Cherry responded, warming to the role of referee herself, "Okay, just 10 – but you have to get the answers exactly right or off something comes."
Ryan seemed pleased with the odds although the first question was about rap and he didn't have a clue. He took off both sandals, leaving a t shirt, belt, shorts and boxers as the other four items to go.
Questions on Punk and the Beatles followed and Ryan had no trouble getting them right. He answered the next "Average White Band" and the CD's answer concurred, "The Average White..."
"No," butted in Sharon, "It was 'The Average White Band, you missed the 'the'!"
"That's not fair!"
"Sharon is right Ryan, it has to be the exact answer." Cherry ruled.
Realising that this was going to be unfair from now on Ryan tugged off his shirt, helped rather unnecessarily by Sharon.
"In which year did Abba have the hit 'Dancing Queen'?"
Unbeknown to Ryan Cherry used the fingertip controls on the steering column to move the track on. The answer came in before he had a chance to think.
"Too slow!" she pronounced.
"What! No way..." Ryan spluttered, but Sharon was unbuckling his belt for him already. In protest he refused to help – but he didn't stop her either.
No matter how he answered now Ryan was going to end up without any clothes, so rather than let Sharon unzip his shorts and get her hands too close to his precious "jewels" (as I nickname them) I undid them, and he just let me. Sharon assisted in pulling them from under his bum and down his legs. Obligingly he stepped out of them.
The final 'wrong' answer inevitably came, but I hesitated – do I really want my husband exposing himself in the back of a car? Too late, Sharon yanked the elastic at the front of his boxers and there was his semi-hard penis on show. She didn't have to struggle to get them all the way down either as Ryan lifted himself off the seat to make it easier for her, and I helped from my side too.
Cherry had angled her mirror so she could see what was happening on the back seat and she and Sharon cheered at the sight.
"Wow, Kay, you had better see to that cock before Sharon does!" Cherry laughed. She may have thought it was a joke but looking at Sharon staring at it open mouthed I wasn't sure she did.
Half to cover my own embarrassment and half to stop any other advances I cupped a hand over Ryan's penis – but it was becoming progressively stiffer and I couldn't hide it.
"Come on Ryan, time to get your clothes back on..." I urged, noting that he didn't seem in any great hurry himself.
"Oh no you don't!" Sharon responded, and she gathered the pants and shorts, throwing them into Dave's lap in the front. He then pushed them down into the foot well.
"The only way you are going to stop that erection being the centre of attention is to make it go down, Kay!" I heard Cherry declare from the front.
I had become aware of that myself and the familiar inner turmoil of wanting to do something highly erotic tussling with the shock of doing something as lewd as making my husband ejaculate in front of people rose up as sharply as ever on this trip. I looked at Ryan's eyes for some help, thinking he would find a way out of this.
He mouthed the word "please" to me and once again my world changed.
My hand moved from covering Ryan's balls and dick as much as I could to wrapping my fingers around the shaft and slowly stroking it, up and down. Sharon audibly gasped. I moved quicker and a drop of pre-cum oozed from the tip. The skin felt dry from the sand and salt on the beach and I felt the urge to coat it with my saliva to make it slicker to my touch.
Could I do such a coarse thing? I thought of how I had turned from being a demure woman this morning into what my mother would have called "a hussy": the kind of person who showed her "charms" off in broad daylight and allowed her tits to be fondled on the beach. I thought it was now only a small step from hussy to slut. I pulled my arm out of the seat belt, leant over and put the head of my husband's cock in my mouth.
Sharon's gasp became a squeal of delight as I sucked it. Ryan just laid back and took whatever I wanted to do, the more I built up a rhythm the louder he moaned.
I felt hands tug at my blouse, up my back and over my head. Did someone want to shroud this lewd act? No, the pulling continued, straining to free my breasts. A button burst off in the attempt and I had to undo another to save it from going the same way but finally my breasts were bare, my bra having been discarded earlier. The collar and cuffs of my top had to be freed from my neck and wrists but I allowed the hands to unbutton them. Lifting my head so the whole thing could be pulled free I saw the hands were not Ryan's but Sharon and Dave's: he had turned round in the front seat to help strip me, and no doubt, to get a better view.
If I was going to be a slut I was going to be a good one, I then did something that felt perfectly in keeping with my new persona but shocked the hell out of the others: I unbuckled the seatbelt, undid the buttons of my jeans and pulled them and my knickers down. In a less than graceful move I struggled in the space I had behind Cherry's seat to get them off, but finally managed it. For the first time since my breasts started to bud as a young girl I was naked in front of a man other than Ryan.
"Kay!" spluttered Dave.