It's fair to say that the last couple of weeks have seen a turning point in our marriage. Ever since my initial indiscretion with a stranger, and subsequent impromptu dogging session (see my last couple of stories) my desire for strangers' cum grows day by day.
I can't concentrate on work any more - all I can think of is the next time I'll feel the thrill of being taken roughly by a stranger in increasingly sordid circumstances. Hubby feels the same way too, and we keep re-watching the video he took of me being used by three men on a local trading estate. He loves the idea of me dressing up and then watching a stranger use me like a piece of meat.
Last night wasn't meant to turn out the way it did though. We'd had a pretty lazy Sunday - me tending the garden and him watching the Grand Prix and then the England match. To round things off we thought we'd pop to our local pub and have a couple of drinks in the beer garden.
We both showered and got dressed - nothing too fancy, just normal casual evening wear. He wore a nice shirt and jeans, and I put on a white fitted t-shirt, leather-look black leggings and pair of black, pointed stiletto ankle boots. I slipped on a biker-style black jacket just in case it cooled down.
Our local pub is only a five minute walk, but hubby dropped me up there in the car on account of my heels. He dropped me off and took the car back, then walked up while I got the drinks in.
I carried out his pint of lager and a large glass of Zinfandel for me. The beer garden appeared to be pretty much empty, and I sat down at one of the picnic-style benches in the dusky evening sun.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a young couple sitting at the only other occupied table. It was him. Ben. My one-time, casual, teenage lover. Only a few days ago he was hammering me from behind and cumming over my legs, and now he's sat in the same beer garden with what appears to be his very pretty girlfriend.
I was willing hubby to hurry up and get back so we could leave, so I turned my face away and pretended to be very interested in my phone. After a few moments I glanced over and saw that he was looking at me. Perhaps he was just admiring my tight leather-look leggings, shining in the sunset - or perhaps he'd recognised me. I had a sinking feeling it was the latter.
My husband arrived and walked over to where I was sat. He sat opposite me, facing away from the teenage couple.
"Don't look round" I whispered.
Now what's the first thing someone does when you tell them not to look round?
"DON'T!" I hissed, as he turned his head back, none the wiser.
"What is it?" he said, looking confused.
"It's him"
"Who's him? he asked.
"Ben" I replied.
"Ben?"
"Yes. Ben. From the other day?"
"Oh fuck. THAT Ben?"
"Yes" I said, the penny finally having dropped for him.
"What do you want to do? Has he seen you? Do you want to go?" He asked.
"Yes, I'm pretty sure he's seen me. He keeps looking".
"Ok, we'll go. Let me just drink this."
"I'd really like to go now, if you don't mind" I said, putting my phone in my handbag.
We stood up to leave when a voice called:
"Leaving already? You just got here!"
It was a girl's voice, which made me think it wasn't directed at me and hubby.
"Don't go, I need to talk to you" the voice insisted.
I looked around and the girl with Ben was now facing us. He was sitting there smiling, which seemed strange.
"So you're the famous Sarah I've been hearing all about." said the girl.
