Devil in the Red Dress

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

For all who have been waiting a long time for this my apologies, my life got a bit busy. Fair warning for the inevitable horde of morons: This is a work of fiction. No, she is not my actual wife. For those who seem to confuse the Loving Wives section with Romance -- you might want to give this a skip (but if you want to read it anyway and get offended, leaving shrill insults in the comments, be my guest). For new comers to this nascent series, I would recommend reading part one first.

*

It was a surreal drive home. I was physically drained, the rush of our quick hard fuck had dissipated and my body was feeling languid and relaxed, yet a hard rock of excitement was bubbling up in my the pit of my stomach, enough to start breathing life back into my cock, as I contemplated the exquisite site of my just-fucked wife sat beside me. She was decadently disheveled; the thin strapless summer dress, bright red and a size too small, clung tight to her body, still sweat-slick from our car park session. Her long raven hair was hanging loose around her small pretty face and there was a faint trace of my cum across her high, rosy cheekbones where she had run my spent cock across her face when licking me clean. As I took our exit off the motorway the though ran through me again, like a shiver.

She is full of my cum

.

Each traffic light heralded a heady mixture of torturous delay and breathless anticipation. We had already had a trucker, bald and fat, leer openly from his elevated vantage point down to our low profile sports car, staring at the bra-less cleavage of my blue eyed wife. I had expected Katie to tut in disapproval, to wind up the tinted window and pass a comment about how disgusting truckers were. Instead she had just looked over to me smiled wickedly and said

"Looks like that was £500 well spent, even the apes seem to like it!" My sudden and confusing spike of desire left me speechless and unable to process the price, which was just as well. Nothing kills the mood faster than a man choking to death trying to say "How much?" Although in truth I was distracted by something more astonishing. Katie, grinning, pulled the hem of her dress higher, exposing vast tracts of her flawless thighs. I shot her a questioning and admiring look, eyebrow raised and she laughed and blew me a kiss then pointed to the road, which I had been ignoring.

The next traffic lights drew near. Who might draw alongside? My heart was hammering and my cock began to stiffen. Jesus, when did random strangers staring at my wife suddenly become so exciting? When did my wife become this woman sat next to me? A glance in the mirror told me that a people carrier was pulling up alongside. My hands were trembling. The car pulled just ahead of ours, the driver was a middle aged plump woman who did not even glance in our direction. Katie glanced over to me and pouted, which dispelled my disappointment instantly as it was a clear signal

Yes, I am playing this game

.

Tires squealed in my rush to reach the next set of lights, the last set before home. As we sat there we grinned at each other stupidly. A grey Volvo pulled up. Inside was an a grey haired man that I instantly recognized as Peter, who was the director of the local dramatic society that Katie had been involved in. I remembered Katie muttering something to me about auditions for a new production. I sow Katie go stock still with shock at recognizing him. Peter seemed to take an age to look over, his head swining in slow motion and his eyes resting on Katie's legs, widening, and then tracking up to her chest then finally her face, which had now gone bright red in embarrassment. After a long moment Peter visibly started as the shock of recognition hit him. I expected him to flush with embarrassment at his obvious lechery but to his credit he kept his cool, smiled and waved at Katie, who could do nothing but wave back. As we pulled away Katie dropped her head in her hands and I couldn't resist adding:

"Bet that makes your next audition easier."

She barked a laugh and playfully punched me in the arm. She was embarrassed, but excited - which was interesting. My cock was now rock hard, pressing uncomfortably against my trousers. I shifted in my seat and Katie glanced down, noticing the bulge. She smirked and reached over to squeeze it, sliding closer and whispering in my ear, rubbing my cock as she spoke.

"Did you see how he looked at me? Before he recognized me I was just some hot meat for him to fuck. Now when he sees me that image will always be there, lurking behind his eyes. The fact that he has eye fucked me".

I moaned, delighted at the shocking, lurid, language coming from my prim wife. Too soon, our drive way appeared and we pulled up.

Once in the house I struggled up the stairs with the shopping and Katie made her way to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of merlot and a lager for me. I could hear the party next door, the faint sound of classic rock mixed with murmurings of conversation. Glancing out of the window I could see John, back from the shopping center, talking to a tall well built young man who was tending the smoking barbeque -- that must have been Eric. A could make out a few other people, none of whom were familiar. I cantered down the stairs and took the cold beer from my sexy wife's hand, noticing that she had already pounded down her wine. As I gulped down I felt her small hands once again wrap around my stiff cock. I grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her face in for a long kiss and felt one of her hands sneak into my boxers and cup my balls.

"Shall we skip this party then?" I asked, my hands roaming down her back. She sighed.

"No, we better not, you know how John has been dying to show Eric off to us." I groaned in frustration and Katie grinned, a glint in her eye. "Tell you what; I'll make it up to you. Naughty Katie can stay out to play for a while longer."

"Done." I said quickly. She smiled and took my hand, leading my up to the bedroom, her perfect ass swinging in front of me with each step, delicious and enticing in the sheer red material. As she entered the bedroom she pulled down the dress, which pooled around her ankles leaving her naked body exposed. She threw a look over her shoulder in a glamour girl pose and pranced over to her wardrobe like a cat-walk model, her firm ass and tits bouncing. I ached with desire but forced myself still. Once in front of the wardrobe she stopped and turned to me pulling her most innocent looking face.

"Will hubby help me choose some underwear?" I was over in a flash, rummaging through her draw like a crazed pervert. Finally I found what I was looking for, a tiny laced thong, sheer black with frills. I handed it to her and found the matching bra. She elegantly slipped on the thong and then turned for me to help her with the clap of the bra. Once done she bent from the waist and reached into the bottom draw for her stockings and suspenders, giving me a achingly lovely view of her perfect, thong covered ass. How I restrained myself from throwing her on the bed and fucking her senseless is beyond me. I stood mute, watching as she pulled on the stockings and fastened them, thinking how beautiful and slutty she would look. I watched as she padded over to her dresser. She noticed me and caught my eye in the mirror.

"Don't stand there and gawp! Go shower!" she glanced down at my crotch and added "maybe a cold one."

I took her advice. A few moments later I emerged, towel around my waist and saw that Katie had slipped the dress back on and was nearly ready. She looked stunning and sexy. She was outrageously overdressed for a casual barbeque and looked more than a little like an escort. All of this pleased me in a new and, if I am honest, a slightly disturbing way. She looked me up and down and wolf whistled, appreciating the gut wrenching hours I had been putting in at our gym. My spin class instructor Lisa's super tight lycra shorts were probably responsible for at least half of my emerging six pack. I threw on some clothes and grabbed a couple of bottles of wine from our fridge. I heard Katie clomping down the stairs after me and in a moment we were out the door and making our way over to John's.

Another strange and erotic moment; knocking at John's door, as we had done countless times before, stood on his ragged mat, shouting 'Welcome!' to muddy feet, except this time, my wife was stood next to me dressed like a hooker, her cunt still full of my cum. I struggle to keep myself flaccid.

John's youngest daughter answered the door, Cynthia, down for the summer from her university; she was short and pudgy but a joy to be around with a sharp wit and a warm demeanor.

"Oh, you made it!" she glanced at Katie, eyes widening slightly, "are you guys got another party or something?" she asked tentatively. Katie seized on the opportunity.

"Oh, we thought we would hit a club after this, but you know how Dan is at waiting for me to get ready...." I nodded sheepishly, thinking how terribly thin the story was. Clubbing? We hardly did that when we were students...

Thankfully Cynthia swallowed the line, her face brightening. "Oh that's great! You should take Eric. He is going nuts with boredom. Apparently all of his old friends are either bankers or still in Basra...." She kept up a constant prattle which I ignored as I watched my wife squeeze past me through the doorway. I gave her ass a hard squeeze as she passed me by and followed the girls into the main living room.

As is normal with these kinds of events there was a strange mix of people. I spent a few moments introducing myself to a bunch of strangers, all of which gawped at my wife. Katie was charm incarnate, laughing and joking with total strangers with an ease which I envied. Someone had conjured us a couple of drinks and soon we were in the spirit of things.

I soon got into a conversation with one of the men I knew from a village cricket match I had participated in when I noticed that Katie had managed to attract a semi circle of young men around her, all of which were trying very hard to simultaneously stare at her chest while looking like they were really engaging in intelligent conversation.

"Katie looks lovely today." James commented, before burying his face into his pint, drips falling off his beard.

"Yeah, cost a lot though" I said, trying to cover my intense stare. Did I look jealous? Or approving? What was worse?

"Worth it." Came James's reply. I laughed. Always liked James, he was a no nonsense bloke.

John found us after a while and dragged Katie and I out to meet Eric.

"Eric! Meet the Mr. and Mrs. Williams from next door." Eric was huge. At least six foot four and built like a militarized out-house. His hand fairly crushed mine. He had a large, square jaw and short cropped blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. After I shook his hand Katie stepped up and I was struck at the contrast between the two, with Katie being so tiny. He completely towered over her and she had to step up on her tip toes while he had to bend for her to plant a couple of kisses on his cheek in a surprising 'continental' greeting. It did not escape my notice that no one else at this party had got that treatment.

Eric turned out to be an intriguing young man. Twenty two, he had just come back from a tour of Iraq with the Royal Marine commandos. He was evasive about his time out there and we didn't press him, but we gathered that he was having trouble being a civilian again, at least until he went back out, which he expected to be in three or four months, after a few weeks R&R and a lucky posting at a base not too far away. Struggling for things to say to him, I remembered that John had mentioned something about a girlfriend, years back when we were just getting to know each other, and I carelessly asked him where she was. He smiled thinly at me and told me how he had got a 'Dear John' while in Basra and hadn't met anyone since, seeing as he knew so few people back here and Iraq wasn't exactly a great place for finding love. There was an awkward silence. I could see a look of compassion on Katie's face and thankfully she changed the subject deftly, asking Eric if he was a Rugby player, squeezing his huge biceps, already convinced. He laughed and said he played inside center, which was what I played as well. I told him that I prayed to every god that I didn't face him on the field and the tension was dispelled.

As the afternoon turned into evening on we got steadily more smashed. Katie had put away the better part of a bottle and a half of wine and I was about seven pints in (again, Jesus maybe I had a problem). I found myself losing track of Katie who had been talking and, it seemed, flirting with young Eric. The booze had loosened her up some more and she was in great form, joking and laughing, touchy and affectionate. She was still causing a bit of a scene wherever she went. All the men present were almost constantly staring at her assets and as the evening wore on and inhibitions waned, this only got worse.

After a while someone decided to play DJ and plugged in an iPod, turning the volume right up. This got the crowd going and soon we found ourselves cutting shapes on the dance floor. Katie sought me out and we spent a few numbers dancing together, her slender body sliding up against mine while I stole the occasional kiss into her hair or against her neck, which drew wolf whistles from the others. I lasted until the inevitable Greece mega mix, to which I refused to dance on point of principle. Katie pouted at me and put her hands on her hips in the classic tee-pot pose, her face one of comic disappointment. She need not have worried - Eric, who had not been dancing at all until this point, swept in and set her twirling, his huge hands engulfing hers as he spun her around. I grinned and stumbled off to find another beer.

On my way to the bar I ran into James again and got distracted into a conversation about the impending test series. I lost track of time in the intricacies of our arm-chair cricket wisdom and missed the fact that the music had changed to a few slow numbers. Quite by chance I shifted position and looked over James' shoulder, to see Katie slow-dancing with Eric, her small body pressed up against his muscular frame. The contrasts between the two were an erotic vision: her petite stature against his towering bulk, her dark, long hair matched against his cropped blonde, her vivid red designer dress pressed up against his navy blue casual jeans and tight tee-shirt.

I love Cricket more than most things, but suddenly the lack of 'real' fast bowlers seemed much less interesting than it had a minute or two previously. The supercharged lust of earlier seemed to rocket back into me. The number ended and they pulled apart, Eric wondering over to his father and Katie making a bee-line straight for me, her eyes dancing. I excused myself from James and intercepted her halfway. I opened my mouth to speak but she cut straight across me in an intense whisper:

"You need to go to the toilet, now!" I stared at her, mouth agape, not understanding. She pulled up against me and rose on her toes, whispering in my ear "I'll be there in two minutes, I'll knock four times."

It was the longest two minutes of my life, excitement building in me as I waited in the small cramped toilet. After an eternity, four knocks. I cracked open the door and Katie whirled in, her mouth seeking mine in a frenzy. I felt her tongue slide in and matched her for intensity, my cock rearing up like a cobra. Katie grabbed it and pushed me down onto the toilet seat and started working on the zipper.

"What's got into you?" I asked wonderingly, as she released me and started stroking the length, on her knees in our kindly neighbor's house.

"Mmmm, I'm just horny and we never picked up where we left off, did we?" She smiled up at me, her face angelic and her hands full swollen meat. I felt the slick caress of her tongue as she took me in her mouth I thrust my hips forward in pleasure.

"Oh, fuck. Not that I am complaining or anything. Jesus. But something has set you off." Katie was making slurping sounds as she engulfed my cock, working it deeper and faster.

"Does it matter?" she asked when she came up for air, her blue eyes resting on mine, her fist still pumping.

"It's just that I want to bottle it up. Oh fuck that is good. So I can use it when you have headaches," she stuck her tongue out at me and then took my balls into her mouth, which she never did. I nearly cried with pleasure, her tongue tracing small circles.

Katie then stood up, hiked up her dress about her hips and straddled me, sliding my cock deep inside, the flimsy thong shoved to one side. She rode me hard, her ass moving in a blur and she brought her mouth up to my ear, speaking in hot whispers, punctuated by grunts and the lewd sounds of fucking.

"Promise you won't get jealous?" she breathed. I nodded, grinding into her as hard as I could, "when I was dancing" she continued, the slapping sounds of flesh on flesh getting louder "when I was dancing with Eric," my heart started beating double time and our fucking increased in pace, Katie moaned as a wave of pleasure broke over her. "When we got up close and he held me, I think he got a bit excited." I grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her whole body down onto my cock in savage thrusts, feeling every inch of her. "I could feel ......urgh, oh god!....I could feel....his cock ....against my belly. Oh fuck sweetie I am going to cuuuuuuuum." And that was too much for me and I erupted. Pumping cum deep inside her for what felt like an age, reveling in Katie's involuntary spasms as she climaxed, and I was grunting deep and loud like a caveman, an animal.

I nearly blacked out I was so spent. When I finally opened my eyes, breathing deep, Katie was whimpering on my shoulder, my cock still buried deep but shrinking. We sat there for a minute, gloriously entwined before we began to move. It dawned on both of us how loud we had just been and we caught each other's eye and giggled.

"Music is quite loud," I whispered, hoping it was true. Katie stood, straightening her dress with a little shimmy and gave me a nonchalant shrug then re-arranged her hair looking in the mirror. I tucked myself back in my trousers and rolled my shoulders. I needed a beer.

"I'll go first," Katie announced and she cracked the door open a fraction, peering suspiciously out. Satisfied, she swung the door wide and strode out....straight into Eric who caught her in an embarrassed hug as she tripped into him.

"Oh, Katie -- er, was just hitting the men's room." He stammered as Katie laughed and slowly righted herself. Sheepishly I made my way out of the toilet and gave Eric a smile, laughing and nodded at my wife.

"Dress problems." I said, straight-faced, as if that explained it. He nodded and moved into the toilet. Katie gave me a wide eyed look and was clearly thinking the same think as I was:

How long had he been out there?

Or maybe it was

How much did he hear?

Even though I was pretty spent, the next hour was an erotic thrill. Katie was charming, flirtatious and affectionate. She danced with James, John and Eric again -- her pussy full of sperm the whole while, her body screaming out the fact that she had just been fucked. I dove straight back into the beers as the fuck session had sobered me up. I lost track of Katie after a while as she stuck to the 'dance floor' with a few other die hard couples and I moved from conversation to conversation, feeling relaxed and content and thoroughly enjoying myself. A while later and the music shifted again to slower romantic songs.

I was chatting away to Cynthia when I noticed that John, her father, our old kindly neighbor, was dancing with my wife and seemed to have his hand on her ass, wrongly assuming, I suppose, that the light was bad enough to hide it. Katie didn't seem bothered and was pressed up against him pretty tight, eyes closed, her head resting in the crook of his neck.