This story contains details of wife sharing/cuckoldry so please do not read it if that bothers or offends you
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I suspect that the key moments in a person's life are often triggered by an unusual combination of circumstances. Until a month ago I was a rather strait-laced wife who had only ever had sex with my husband Paul.
I'm thirty three and we've been married for twelve years. After we had been married for several years Paul asked me whether I ever regretted my lack of experience. I told him the honest truth that it wasn't something which bothered me. However when he asked me about it again a few days later I rather hesitantly admitted that I did very occasionally daydream about being taken rather forcefully at work by a handsome brute of a man.
In my dreams it was always at work and this man would push me up against a filing cabinet, pull my knickers to one side and take his pleasure. For some reason it was important that I was fucked standing up and that my knickers were pulled to one side (not off) and then pulled back into place when he had finished.
I was worried that Paul would be offended so I stressed that it was just a fantasy, but I got a shock when it turned out that the thought of me having sex with someone else was quite a turn-on for him.
I assumed that it was just the idea that excited him, but as we talked some more it became clear that he was interested in turning it into reality. I said no to that, but it became quite a frequent item in our pillow talk. Paul often asked me to describe little fantasy scenarios which involved me getting fucked while he watched. He found that very exciting and I have to admit that it invariably got me wet.
There were also a couple of occasions when we took it a stage further and did some role playing. The most memorable one was after I had been on a night out with some friends from the gym I use. It was all girls, but very respectable and with no bad behaviour.
It was after midnight when I got home and Paul had left a bottle of massage oil out for me. I rubbed some oil on my pussy and soaked the gusset of my panties. Then I crept into our bedroom and gently woke my husband. I can still remember the excitement I felt when I told him that I had just been fucked and placed his hand on my wet panties. He pulled the sheets back, I straddled him, pulled my panties to one side and guided his cock into my sopping wet pussy.
Despite the fact that we played around like that I had no intention of turning fantasy into reality. I work in the accounts department of a precision engineering firm as assistant to the Finance Director.
I was in the archive room late one Tuesday searching for an elusive file. In fact it was just after finishing time and quite a few people had gone, but I needed to find this file.
I barely registered the footsteps in the corridor outside, but immediately recognised one voice as belonging to my boss Steve, and then realised the others were Trevor and Graham, two of the sales team.
I heard them ask Steve how he felt about this being his last week. He was moving up to Scotland and a better paid job with a bigger firm. To be honest I was sorry to see him go because we worked well together, though I should stress that there had never been anything remotely sexual between us; it had always been a straightforward work relationship.
I was interested to hear what Steve had to say, so I quietly moved a step closer to the door. I froze with surprise when I heard him say he'd miss working with me and doubted whether he'd be lucky enough to have such an efficient assistant in Scotland. Trevor and Graham laughed.
"What you mean is you'll miss ogling her tits," said Trevor. Trust him to say that; I didn't like Trevor and Graham, they were very much salesmen and I mean that in the worst sense of the word.
"Leave Kim alone," said Steve with a chuckle which I think was meant to lighten the rebuke. "She's a lovely person."
"She's a lovely person, but a lovely person with world class tits," said Graham. "She was bent over her desk when we went through the Accounts office this afternoon and you could see right down her dress. I've never seen such ripe, firm breasts. I had to fight an urge to run round behind her, pull her knickers to one side and ram my cock into her twat."
I could feel a blush spreading across my cheeks as they discussed me in this crude manner. I'm not stupid, I know what men can be like, but it was the first time I'd heard myself described in this way.
Part of me was dismayed, but a little voice was saying "Well at least they think you're sexy, be honest, it's better than hearing them saying you're repulsive". I was relieved when Steve told them that was enough.
"Oh come on," said Trevor. "You don't have to act the accountant all the time. Admit it, there've been times when you've looked at her and wished you were between her thighs."
"Of course there have been," said Steve. "But I don't feel a need to go round telling everyone about it. I got a glimpse down that dress today and when she was in my office later talking about our Belgian accounts, all I could think of was Kim gently lowering the shoulder straps, slowly pulling down the top half of her dress and offering me her breasts. She's got lovely dark areola, I think that's so sexy in a woman."
Now I really was blushing furiously because it was obvious that Steve had enjoyed a good sly look at my breasts. It felt like my face was on fire, but what I couldn't ignore was the moist arousal between my legs. There was no mistaking the signals my body was sending me -- this bit of eavesdropping was turning me on.
In truth what they were saying sort of made sense. My husband keeps telling me what wonderful breasts I have and how he loves my prominent nipples and dark areola. I'm a 36D with a nice slim waist and several of my girlfriends have told me they wish they had breasts like mine -- not big and gross, but full and firm and definitely not flat-chested.
A vivid mental picture of me offering my breasts to Steve and him licking and nuzzling at them sprang into my mind. To be honest Steve isn't my dream guy, that would be Pierce Brosnan or Hugh Grant, but he is very presentable. He's three years older than me and got divorced six years ago and to the best of my knowledge there's no woman in his life at the moment.
The conversation moved on. Trevor and Graham said they were going for a drink and asked Steve if he wanted to join them, but he said he had a bit of work to complete and anyway we'd all be going out for a drink on Friday.
As he said that his hand must have settled on the door to the archive room because it moved with slight rattle. I prayed that he wasn't about to come in, but was just using the handle as a convenient rest.
Time seemed to stand still for a moment and then the door slowly opened and Steve stepped into the room. We stood facing each other for a moment and I could see that Steve was wondering what he should say.
"You must have heard that conversation," he said. I simply nodded. "I'm sorry, you weren't meant to, I can only apologise for what was said."
"That's OK," I said, anxious not to make a fuss about it. "I'm going to treat it as a bit of office banter and pretend I never heard it." Steve looked relieved at that, probably thinking that there had been the potential for a sexual harassment case.
"I shouldn't have said what I did," said Steve. "But at least you didn't overhear us saying how plain you are. In a way what we said was very flattering, there's no question you've got a lovely figure." He looked very purposefully at me when he said that and there was a pause during which the erotic charge which had been hanging around in the background suddenly became much more pronounced. This was the closest Steve had ever come to flirting with me, but after a moment's thought he obviously decided to take things a stage further.
"It's true, you do have a wonderful bust, that's definitely not an exaggeration." That made me blush some more and I told him he didn't need to go into detail.
"But I want to. This is my last week here and I'll probably never see you again after Friday, so if I don't say this now I never will. I'm a normal red-blooded male, but you're married and I respect that and anyway office affairs are never a good idea."
He paused and I could feel my heart hammering so loud that I thought Steve must be able to hear it.
"I'm sorry," he said. "But I've got to ask this...will you show me your breasts?"
There was an awkward silence and then Steve continued.
"I know it's an outrageous thing to ask, but we've worked together for seven years and I've had glimpses of them, but would love to see them properly, just this once. Think of it as a leaving present. Please."
As a married woman I knew my answer should be no, but I was surprised by my feelings. I'm a shy, conservative person, but I ached to expose myself to Steve. I could imagine his reaction and how he would lust after me. It's part of being a woman, you like to arouse men, to get a reaction from them. And of course I knew that my husband wouldn't object, indeed he would probably have encouraged me to reward Steve with a view of my breasts.
I thought back to what Steve had said about me lowering the shoulder straps and pulling my dress front down to expose my breasts. I knew I wanted to do it, but I had to force my trembling fingers upwards. I smoothed one strap off my shoulder and then the other. Then I reached behind my back and after some awkward fumbling I pulled the zip part way down. I took a deep breath and and slowly pulled down the top half of my dress until Steve had a clear view of my breasts.
I felt embarrassed and very self-conscious by how erect my nipples were, but I did sneak a glance at the front of Steve's trousers and could see a definite bulge. I thought he must be erect, men get excited so easily and if I was aroused then heavens knows what he felt like.
We stood in silence for what felt like a long time, but probably wasn't really, then Steve hesitantly asked if he could touch them. I wish he hadn't asked. I'm quite a submissive woman and I prefer the man to be in charge. I'd rather he had just moved in and taken them in his hands. Now the onus was on me and of course I knew that once he'd touched them things might go further.
I honestly didn't know whether I wanted that, but I was prepared to let events take their course, so I gave the briefest of nods. Steve moved closer and with the lightest of touches his fingers traced a path across my breasts. His handling became firmer and he was squeezing and fondling them, then of course his head went down and he latched onto one of my breasts.
Instinctively I put one hand on the back of his head and pulled him closer to me. One of Steve's hands slid round the back and began to fondle my bottom. After a minute or two his mouth slid across and he turned his attention to my other breast. A moan of pleasure escaped my lips and that must have encouraged him because his hand slid across the front of my dress and with a gentle, yet firm motion he caressed my pubic mound.
It was one thing to allow Steve to touch my breasts, but if I allowed him access to my most intimate place then we both knew the likely outcome. After only a moments hesitation I parted my legs further in an unspoken gesture of encouragement. He seized on that most obvious of hints and his hand slid up the inside of my thigh. He cupped me and I was embarrassed at how my damp panties would betray the emotions surging through my body.
He very quickly slipped his hand inside my panties and first one, then two fingers slid into my pouting slit. I do like being finger fucked, but it's not the same as having an erect cock inside you and I realised that was what I wanted. Steve started to tug at my knickers, impatient to have full access, but was dismayed when I stopped him.
