Sally and Peter

I searched through my bag, but just couldn't find my keys. I was desperate to get inside my house and into the arms of my wonderful husband, and as I searched I kept vowing to myself that I would never go out with Sharon ever again. Finally I found them, and struggled to get my key into the lock, then I let myself in and looked for Peter. I finally found him asleep in front of the TV.

"Darling, are you OK?" He asked, struggling to wake up.

"No, not really!" I replied.

"What happened?" He asked, full of concern, which made me feel even worse.

"I've been really bad, please don't leave me, I'll make it up to you somehow!" I pleaded.

"It's OK," he said, "just calm down and tell me what happened."

So I collapsed into his arms and felt a little reassured as he hugged and kissed me.

"Now, sit on my lap and tell me everything that happened." He instructed in a kind but firm voice.

I climbed onto his lap like a little girl and proceeded to tell him all the details, interspersing every section with sorry, sorry, sorry. At some point I noticed that he had an erection poking into my bottom.

"Are you hard?" I asked, feeling a little irritated.

"Sorry, but you are sitting on my cock and we haven't had sex for ages." He explained.

Then I felt even more awful.

"I'm so sorry my love, I don't know what's got into me. I promise I'll look after you much better in future, in fact, why don't we go to bed now and you can fuck me anyway you want." I suggested.

"Oh, OK." He said, as I was climbing off his lap.

As he followed me up the stairs I felt such immense love for this wonderful man who was being so forgiving and kind.

In the bedroom Peter slowly and gently removed my dress, which left me naked except for my shoes.

"Christ, you aren't wearing any underwear!" He exclaimed.

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing.

Peter pushed me back onto the bed, tore his own clothes off and climbed between my spread legs,

"You're soaking wet!" he hissed into my ear, "did being groped turn you on that much?"

I couldn't tell whether he was excited or angry, perhaps it was both, but he fucked me like a man possessed, which felt fantastic as well as cathartic. In about two minutes we both had a powerful orgasm, and my husband rolled off me and lay panting.

I removed my shoes and slipped under the covers and waited to find out if my marriage was over.

Peter climbed into bed next to me and put his arm around me and started giving me little kisses all over my face. After a short while his left hand started gently caressing my right breast.

"I need you to answer some questions. Please tell me the truth without hesitating."

"OK." I answered, sure that my husband would leave me if I was totally honest, but knowing that I had no choice.

"Did going out dressed like a slut turn you on?"

"Yes." I answered in a terrified whisper.

"Sorry, I couldn't hear that!" He snapped.

"Yes!" I said, almost shouting.

"So, were you already a little wet by the time you got to the club?"

"Yes."

"Hmmnn...then the guy got his fingers into your pussy and you freaked and ran away to the loo."

I didn't say anything to that, since it was clearly a fact, not a question.

"But, despite what had happened, Sharon persuaded you to still go on dancing. Was that because you were regretting stopping the guy?"

"No!!" I insisted.

"Hmmnn...then you played Sharon's silly game and you threw your knickers away...did that make you even more horny?"

"I don't know...I suppose so." I answered reluctantly.

"And it was only when a guy started getting his cock out that you bolted for the door?"

"Yes...please don't leave me...I love you so much...please let me make it up to you." I begged

Peter

I couldn't believe what my prim and proper wife was telling me. Sharon had managed to force her to go to a pub, then on to a club, dressed like a cheap tart. At least two different guys had got their fingers into her pussy, and one of them almost managed to fuck her in the middle of the club.

I was so incredibly excited, that when I fucked her I only lasted a couple of minutes, although, luckily, she was so turned on that we climaxed simultaneously.

To make my life even more perfect, she was begging my forgiveness and offering to do anything I wanted if I would just forgive her and stay married to her. What I wanted to do was thank her, and insist that she goes out with Sharon every week, and to let guys fuck her when they want to, but, of course, I couldn't say that.

I needed a little time to make my plan on what I would demand as my price for staying with her. Obviously I had absolutely no intention of leaving her, and, in fact, I loved her even more now that she had clearly demonstrated that she got incredibly turned on dressing and behaving like a tart.

What I ideally wanted was to make her go out with Sharon, as often as possible, and behave like a cock hungry slut most of the time. I also wanted frequent blow jobs, access to her bum whenever I fancied, and for her to entertain my friends whenever I told her to.

Not too much to ask, surely?

"OK, here's the plan," I told my worried wife, " I want to stay married to you, so we need to get past this problem, and provided you really work hard to make it up to me, I'm sure we can have a long and very happy marriage."

"Oh darling, thank you so much, I promise I will do everything I can to make our marriage work. I'll be like a Stepford wife."

The next day, Sunday, my wife and a few of her friends were involved in some church charity event, so I'd arranged to go out for lunch and a few beers with David, which I was looking forward to as it would be a great opportunity to get help with my plan and also to hear what Sharon's take on the evening was.

"So Dave, what was Sharon's take on the evening?" I asked as we both drank a refreshing pint of Doombar beer.

"Ha ha, well, she was amazed that your wife was much more up for fun than she had expected. She said that I should tell you that if we plan things right we should be able to turn Sally into a complete slut." He told me, grinning broadly.

"Well, that's good news Dave, but, wasn't she annoyed that my wife spoiled her chances of getting laid?"

"Actually, she didn't. Sharon brought both the guy she was with, and the one who tried to fuck Sally home with her, and I got to watch them both take turns with my sexy wife."

"Wow Dave! You are one lucky man!" I exclaimed, feeling more than a bit jealous of my best friend.

"What you don't know is that Sharon has been sleeping around for quite a while. I knew, but didn't tell her, because I didn't want to put her off. Now it's out in the open, I'm so incredibly happy and turned on. Watching her fuck those two guys was the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me."

"That's so hot!" I told him.

"Well, hopefully we can get Sally to be as much of a slut as my Sharon. So, what's your plan?"

"I'm not sure yet," I answered honestly, "but to start, can you get Sharon to act really annoyed at Sally for spoiling their evening, and I'll say that you are also irritated because your wife is now in a bad mood."

"Aah, I see what you're thinking. Sally will have to go out again and not say no to the guys, just to apologise to Sharon."

"Exactly! Shall we order some food?"

Over a very enjoyable lunch we discussed various other ideas, which were not a cohesive plan, but gave me plenty of options.

"How was David?" Sally asked Sunday evening, as we were relaxing and enjoying some wine.

"OK, I guess." I answered with just a little contrived hesitation.

"Was there something wrong?" She asked, sounding a bit worried.

"He said that Sharon came home in a really bad mood last night, and she was no better this morning. I think he was glad to get out of the house, to be honest.

"Oh dear, do you think it's my fault?"

"I don't know, perhaps you ought to ring her and apologise for letting her down." I suggested.

"Oh, do you think I should? Perhaps she's mad at me because I prevented her getting laid."

"Well, it's worth a try, but..."

"But what darling?"

"What can you offer to make it up to her?"

"Oh, I see what you mean. Let me think about it for a bit, in the meantime, please pour me another drink. I need some Dutch courage."

With another glass of wine inside her, my wife decided to bite the bullet and phone Sharon.

"Hi Sharon, it's Sally. Listen, I'm phoning to apologise about abandoning you last night." She started.

I couldn't hear Sharon's side of the conversation.

"Yes, I suppose I was rude."

More from Sharon.

"Yes I've told him everything, and he's been very nice about it."

Only hearing half the conversation was driving me nuts.

"OK, that's fair, let's talk again in the week. Once again, I'm really sorry." Sally ended the conversation.

"So?" I asked, "what did she say?"

"She told me that I'd ruined her evening, and that I was rude. She said that if I want us to stay friends then I have to change my behaviour."

"Oh dear, you are in the dog house." I commented with a little chuckle.

"Please darling, tell me something I can do to make things better between us. I really will do anything." She begged.

I decided it was time to start to move things forward.

"OK, let me tell you one of the things I'm annoyed about, and then I'll tell you how you can put it right, OK?" I asked, deliberately sounding annoyed.

"Yes my love, please tell me." She answered, desperate to find a way to make me happy again.

"When I saw how you'd been dressed on your night out with Sharon, do you know what I thought?" I began, but didn't wait for an answer.

"I thought, why is it that my wife will dress in a really sexy way on a night out with her friend, but wears dowdy clothes whenever she's with me?"

"Oh my God! Darling, I'm so sorry, I never thought about it like that. But didn't you think I looked too slutty?"

"No, you looked fabulous! So, are you going to put it right?"

"Yes, I totally am!" she promised, "just tell me what to do."

"I'm going to phone Sharon and ask her to take you shopping next Saturday for a whole new wardrobe. I'm happy to pay for it. In future, apart from when you go to work, you will dress how Sharon tells you to dress, and when we go out with them next Saturday, I expect you to follow her instructions on dress and behaviour. If you do all that, and stick to it, you'll have made a great start to saving our marriage."

"OK my love, it's not at all what I expected, but, if it will save our marriage I will do it. Please ring Sharon and arrange it...I just hope she doesn't say no."

"Hi Sharon," I said as she answered the phone, and then proceeded to tell her the plan. I actually didn't need to, of course, because Dave had already briefed her.

"That's brilliant Sharon, I really appreciate it. The other thing I was going to say was could you please school my wife on the correct etiquette when guys compliment her by touching her and kissing her. I gather she was quite rude last night."

"Good, that's excellent!" I finished and ended the call.

"Thank you so much my love." Sally said to me.

"That's no problem darling, shall we go to bed and have some fun to celebrate?" I suggested.

"Oh yes, that would be lovely, do you have anything in particular you would like me to do?"

"Well, actually...I've always adored your bum...but I've never enjoyed it physically. I've got some KY in my bedside drawer, shall we go upstairs and play?"

"Oh God!!" She shrieked. "But you're so big, you'll never fit in there."

"Don't worry darling, I'm sure I'll get it in if I push hard enough, and if we make it a regular thing, you'll totally stretch to accommodate me."

I just loved the look of total horror on her face when I held out my hand, but she took it anyway, and let me tow her up the stairs, albeit reluctantly.

In the bedroom we both stripped off our clothes and I told Sally to lie face down on the bed. I got the lube out of my drawer and began working it into her tight little arse. I was so excited about what I was about to do to my prissy demur wife.

"I love seeing you naked," I told her, "I think you should always be naked when we are at home."

For a moment I thought she was going to object, but in the end she said nothing.

"Gosh, your arse is very tight." I commented as the head of my rock hard cock pressed on her reluctant sphincter.

I'm fairy lucky in the cock department, nearly nine inches long, and while not extremely thick, plenty thick enough to please every woman I've ever slept with. Clearly Sally was going to find it a challenge to accept all of it into her little bum, but I was determined that she would, and not just once, but whenever I felt like it.

"Please take it slowly Pete, you're a very big boy, and my arse is still a virgin." She begged.

I ignored her pleas and pushed in. With a little pop I was through, and I pressed on until I was fully buried.

"Oh God!" She shrieked, "it hurts so much."

"Don't worry sweet, you'll get used to it." I told her as I started to set up a steady in and out rhythm.

I have to say, it felt fabulous on my cock, like velvet. I vowed to make good use of this orifice in future, and let other guys enjoy her pussy. That thought got me really excited, and, sooner than I had intended, I unloaded my white stuff into her rear passage.

"Go get a flannel and wash my cock baby." I told her without offering to give her any sexual relief. I wanted her to be climbing the walls with sexual frustration next time she was in a club with Sharon.

For the rest of the week I insisted that Sally be naked at home in the evenings, and every night when we went to bed I insisted on a long slow blow job, except Wednesday night, when I took her little arse again. On Saturday she went shopping with Sharon, and I knew that she was really horny because I caught her Thursday and Friday evening trying to get herself off with her fingers. I stopped her both times, and she admitted to me on Saturday morning, just before she went to meet Sharon for their shopping trip, that she was unbelievably horny, which suited my plan perfectly.

Sally

To say I was surprised last Sunday when my husband told me that in order to win back his love I must dress like a slut, would be a huge understatement. I thought that he was mad at me for allowing men to get their fingers inside my pussy, but it would seem that he was more mad because I went out dressed like a slut, when I would never dress like that for him.

I can understand the logic, but I'm still shocked.

His next comment, suggesting that I was rude when I rejected the men's advances is nothing short of bizarre, and the idea that I should learn how to behave from Sharon was quite ridiculous.

As the week progressed, however, I started to accept the plan, and once I accepted it, I started to become turned on by the idea of always dressing like a cheap tart, and my arousal was further inflamed by Peter insisting that I was always naked around the house and that I gave him a blow job every night, while he did nothing to get me off. On Wednesday night he did fuck me, but it was in my arse again, which he enjoyed but I certainly didn't.

By Saturday morning when I was getting ready to go shopping with Sharon, I was climbing the walls with frustration and ready to buy the sluttiest clothes we could find.

As soon as we reached the shopping centre Sharon headed for River Island, which I've thought for some time was for much younger women, but Sharon was confident that it was the right place. She went around the shop picking up items like a whirlwind.

"This is a nice top." She said, showing me what looked like a rather ordinary, floral top.

"Erm, yes, but it doesn't look very sexy to me." I replied.

"It will be when you wear it as a dress." She explained.

"What?" I shrieked, "it's so short everyone will see my panties!"

"Aah, time for one of my sayings," she said, "panties should be seen or not worn. You can text that to your husband."

"I don't understand." I said, feeling like a bit of an idiot.

"It's simple. You only wear panties if you are totally sure that lots of men will get to see them. OK?"

"Oh, right, so if they may not see them I have to go commando?"

"Precisely!"

I typed out the text and sent it to Peter with a note to explain what it meant, then continued following my new best friend around the store.

Peter text back to say "Brilliant Motto!"

"Right, now, short skirts. The important thing here is that there mustn't be any doubt about whether you are showing your knickers or going commando, so fairly short is no good." Sharon explained, as she handed me about five which were so short they were definitely not going to conceal my panties, then a couple of longer ones which were flared and lightweight.

"With these you mustn't wear panties, but they will blow up in even a light breeze, and, when you go up stairs men should get a good up-skirt view. The etiquette when wind blows your skirt or dress up is to count slowly to five before pushing it down. You mustn't under any circumstances hold it down. Got it?"

"Yes Sharon." I replied, feeling like a child.

"Now, take all these and try them on. Come out to show me all of them."

I gradually worked my way through all the skirts and tops to be worn as dresses, and almost all of them fitted. While I was doing that, Sharon collected tops which were to be worn as tops, and I saw immediately that they were either completely see through, or very low cut, or with buttons which I could leave undone. It took about an hour, but at the end we had a mountain of clothes.

"Right, time for lunch I think. Before we eat, choose one of these outfits and go into the loos and get changed. You can throw your current clothes into the bin."

I selected a straight, very short, tight skirt, and a T shirt which was clingy and low cut. I reasoned that at least I could keep my panties on with that outfit.

When I came out of the loo wearing the new outfit, Sharon had already got us pizzas and white wine, so I joined her and ate quickly. I noticed several men glancing under our table, and I assumed that they got a good view of my pale blue lacy thong, and that thought made me more and more wet.

"Are you enjoying all the men looking up your skirt?" She asked me.

"Actually, yes I am, it's turning me on." I admitted.

"Good, I think you're going to make an excellent apprentice. I'm sure you will enjoy being a hot wife and having sex with lots of different men."

"I'm not sure my husband is going to want me doing that." I told her.

"Trust me, that's precisely what he wants, even if he doesn't realise it yet." She replied.

I still wasn't sure, but I was certainly enjoying the journey she was taking me on.

"OK, so, underwear and shoes and then we're done." Sharon told me as she finished he glass of wine.

We headed straight for Victoria's Secret to choose me sexy underwear.

"The trick with underwear is to have tiny lacy items in bold colours. Purple, lime green, and especially red work well, so that the guys know when they've seen what they believe they're not supposed to see. Obviously, we girls know that we're putting on a deliberate show."

Sharon picked out a number of bright coloured, lacy thongs with matching, push up bras.

Finally we went to choose high heeled shoes. Because I'm already quite tall, I couldn't have heels as high as she would have liked.

"Sadly, the days when you could let a young male assistant kneel between your legs and stare transfixed at your panties while you tried on hundreds of pairs of shoes, are long gone. These days, belligerent young girls just drop the shoes on the floor somewhere near you." Sharon told me, clearly sad at the loss of the young male voyeurs.