I don't know what the principle was behind that Friday. Back home, I wore a long summer dress only, my beloved big nipple shields, deep inside two Ben Wa balls. It's no good idea to go out without pants, but I was trained and fulfilled Paul's wish. We went to a local Irish Pub, had a couple of beer in the pub garden, and I told the love of my life the story with Anna in the office. Time went by, the virtue of two pints of Guinness's in my belly, we got hornier by the hour, and my cleavage turned to a gorge thanks to an invention called buttons. A couple of guys in their late twenties sat at a table in front of us but further afar. I bent forward every then and now, pretended false needs, dusted off my sandals, or dropped a pen on the floor. How clumsy I can be when I'm horny. The guys had a perfect look at my dangling mature boobs; I was topless more or less. Paul said they stared at my tits, grinned, and made low-voiced comments about the shields. Next, I lifted the dress slightly, spread the legs like Sharon Stone in a movie, enough to put my bald pussy at display. Paul looked at the guys and suggested a bet. Should one of the fellows come over, chat me up, love to eat me out, or fuck, we would take him and his friends to our house, and I could go the full monty. If not, we take a route back home thru a park, where I undress and walk home naked, whoever comes along. Well, the opportunity was too good to miss - five young studs who might please me. I turned sideways to Paul, pulled out one tit prominently visible for the guys, looked at Paul, and freed the other too.
Make a guess! Around midnight I walked home naked. Three kilometers! Seeing his wife fully nude, Paul got a fantastic erection, so we fucked on a bench in the middle of the park. In the distance, we saw a guy, later a couple walking their dogs. Soon, I got used to nakedness and danced barefoot on the grass. Nature made me feel alive; the warmth of the breeze on the skin, the smell of summer, a silver moon shining on a clear sky, crickets chirping in the bushes. How fortunate that I was not demure because I had the pussy in the wind. And then it happened, we got caught. The branches in the bushes broke under heavy feet next to us, and a big black dog blocked the path. Far away, a guy called his pet.
The dog had a profound knowledge of aroused women. It didn't check my tits, face, or ass. The canine focused right away on the juice running down the thighs. It came closer and stuck its big nose on the clit. I begged Paul to pull the dog away. Please, no dog's tongue on my pussy. Who knows what it had licked off before? Yet the dog was faster, stuck out its long wet tongue, and licked me off what felt like at least two hot people at the same time. It was quite an experience!!
'Wait,' I said to Paul, 'hold me. I'm going to explode.' Paul got behind me, put the arms around me, and massaged the tits. I spread the legs, ruffled the dog's fur, and got first minor spasms. 'Pinch my nipples,' I said short of breath, 'and kiss me.' The dog kept on licking and touched with his upper muzzle my clit. Yet the silly animal stopped and ran back to his master's voice. Paul noticed my needs, fingered me, and I exploded a second time in his arms.
Butt naked, I went back to the street where we live, entered the house, and took the elevator. Guess the security or the janitor had some fun the next day when they checked the video footage of that night.
I told the story of the Pub an American friend I met online on a 'sexy site.' She said, unlike in Europe, an American wouldn't need a written invitation. A pussy on display, tits out, is a big call; come on over, and let's fuck the brains out. She attached pics taken at a biker rally to prove her statement, and I had no further questions.
