I consider myself to be a lucky man. When it comes to slut-wives, then Rachel, my other half, is up there with the best of them! Although now a forty six years old and, as she will be the first to admit, no longer a teenager, she's still a good looking woman and has a voracious sexual appetite to go with her looks. Rach just likes to fuck, and she does so as frequently as possible. With her silver, blonde hair framing a face that looks ten years younger than her true years and her hour-glass figure complete with large, firm breasts, she gets plenty of offers. I long ago gave up any thoughts of keeping her to myself - looking back now to our earlier years, it seemed so stupid to have even tried - but now I content myself in the knowledge that as long as she's happy and getting what she wants - needs - then I'm happy as well and on the occasions when I can catch her "at it", well, so much the better!
If Rachel doesn't have at least three orgasms every day, she gets moody and sullen. Fortunately this happens very infrequently; if I'm not around and there's little chance of her finding another man (or sometimes a woman), then she'll use whatever she can find to satisfy her abundant lust. Just last week I arrived home from work to find her sitting on the lounge floor watching one of the many porn movies in our collection. Her panties were thrown haphazardly to one side and a long broom handle protruded from her very wet pussy while she rotated her thumb over her clit and pulled on her nipples with the other hand. It was a sight that I had become used to seeing, but it never failed to fill me with excitement and lust. I ended up dropping my pants and cumming down her throat as she sucked me off in front of the TV. When it was over, I realised that I still clutched my briefcase in my hand - I hadn't even had time to put it down!
It will come as no surprise, then, when I tell you that when a group of our friends announced that we were all going on a day trip to the local horse racing track, I was filled with apprehension and excitement. You see there's little that Rach enjoys more than fucking out-doors and I could see from the way her eyes lit up immediately I said that we were going, that she was hoping for a little "open-air" fun! When Rachel puts her mind to something, there's not usually much that will stop it happening.
The day was warm and sultry. The mini-coach that we had hired to take us to the races sped past green, lush fields and golden meadows fragrant with the heady aroma of late spring. Rachel was sat between myself and our friend Roger and had been enjoying the caresses of our joint fingers in her pussy for the last hour. I could tell from the way that her snatch virtually dripped juice that today she was even hornier than usual - I guessed that she was likely to be too busy with other matters to see many of the races!
"You go get yourself a beer with the boys," said Rachel as we alighted the coach and entered the track. "I'm just going to have a look around for a bit! Maybe go over to the paddock. Be back in about half an hour, okay?"
I smiled back and nodded my head. Rachel was off to a good start.
And that was more than I could say about my first selection of horses, or rather nags; If I hadn't seen a limb at each corner myself, I would have sworn the stupid animal only had three legs. The second race proved the same disappointing waste of money and dejectedly I tore the second betting ticket up and let the pieces flutter to the ground to join the first.
"I'm gonna have a look at the runners as they come out of the stable, Rog," I said. "Maybe I'll get a lucky tip or something!"
"Okay, buddy. Later." My friend replied.
I began to walk away with a wave over my shoulder.
"Later!"
I leaned on the edge of the paddock fence and watched as the stable lads led their charges from expensive looking horse-boxes and into the small enclosure of the paddock. I studied muscle definition, I studied temperament, I studied form. I knew that all these factors combined would lead, could only lead, to one inevitable conclusion: I'd lose again! A group of scruffy looking stable hands were gathered around one of the horse boxes. I thought I'd go over and see if there were any good tips I could acquire for the price of a beer.
"Hey guys, what's going on!" I said to a tall, lean looking lad of about eighteen. "Any good runners today?"
The lad seemed reluctant to take divert his attention away from the horse box, but eventually dragged his eyes around to meet mine.
"Only sure thing today is in here!" he laughed
That sounded interesting. "Mind if I take a peek?"
"Sure, go ahead, man!"
I think I half expected it, really. Something about the leering grin on the lad's face told me that the muffled noises coming from within the stall were more human than bestial. I looked and....yes, sure enough, Rach was there! Not only was she there, but she was there getting herself well and truly fucked! On her knees and facing anyone who cared to look in - me, at present - she looked like a bitch in heat. A swarthy looking stable hand of about twenty was knelt behind her with a lustful expression on his face. Both his and Rachel's eyes were closed as her rammed his thick cock into her doggy-style and his hands gripped her hips pulling her back onto him with each thrust. I could see my wife's large, pendulous tits swinging back and forth in time with his rapidly accelerating penetrations and could tell that she was on the point of orgasm.
"Ahhh...fuck me...hard...harder, god dammit!...fuck my pussy harder!"
The younger lad seemed unused to accepting orders from a lover, but speeded up his strokes even further so that his thrusts into Rachel's body became little more than a blur. I watched his teeth grind together as he worked himself up to a fever pitch literally punching his thick, hard weapon into my wife's juicy pussy. They seemed to cum together. Rachel howling in a high-pitched, banshee-like voice and the young lad moaning deep in his throat as he unloaded thickly.
