TRUST.
Dear gentle reader, this is a work of fiction, and sometimes in fiction the events and thoughts may seem a little streeeeetched. It's fiction. I am writing a longer story on a similar theme when this "Want if" popped into my head. Now this is finished I can get back to my longer story. I would like to give heartfelt thanks to both Odiouser and Gentlehands1960 for their help, all mistakes are mine.
Well, what a nice Saturday evening, my wife Julia and I were sat outside our favourite pub in the sunshine, we had just had dinner after a fruitful day, grass cut, cars washed, windows cleaned, a quick check of the old Damson coloured Triumph Herald 13/60 convertible prior to run out tomorrow if the weather was fine. Julia looked fantastic in a summer dress that she knows I like, a bit of cleavage and probably stockings.
Julia was a good looking woman, not stunningly beautiful, but trim, long legs, long wavy blond hair and all the right curves in all the right places, but her biggest asset was her attitude and personality. She was cheerful and happy, and could light up a room with her smile, however cross her and get a Paddington hard stare then look out, bad things were coming your way. We had met whilst I was a technician in the RAF, married some 21 years ago and have two children, Steve who joined the RAF, and Susan now at university.
It was looking good for tonight, in fact life was looking good all round. Julia and I both worked for a small engineering company based in a small cathedral city in central southern England which specialised in small batch manufacturing and operates a range of machines from manual lathes to CNC cutting to injection moulding machines and I was the manager for the maintenance of these machines, my background in aircraft electronics and hydraulics was excellent for the job. I had two other chaps to help me, John and Chris. Julia was one of five admin staff which covered HR, accounting, project management, ordering, invoicing and all that admin stuff. Anne and Jane, both married and about the same age as Julia, they both had children, Jane had been married before but divorced her first husband because he had cheated on her. I had met them and their husbands at company parties, they seemed nice, I quite liked them.
Then there was Charity and Chardonnay, together they were known as the 2Cs, both in their 20s, unattached I believe and thought to be playing the field. I didn't know much about them. It was a family run company, with many families working there, sometimes three generations. There were about 35 people in total, there were a couple of designers for small stuff that wasn't farmed out to Centrix Design company, a sales manager, the admin staff, my small team and the rest were the production team. Mr Barstow with the aid of Mrs Barstow ran the company. They have a son Mr Barstow junior who was currently at University. Although Mr Barstow's name was over the door, Mrs Barstow had a fair say on how the business was run, we felt she had a guiding hand in a lot of decisions.
Julia had her face raised to the sun and said to me, "Sweetheart, what would you say if I said I wanted to have sex with another man," the mouthful of beer I had sprayed everywhere and I nearly choked, "don't worry I don't." she finished.
"Well two things, firstly 'over my dead body' and if you do have sex with another man I will divorce you and tell everyone, including family, what a cheating bitch you are, I will seriously damage anyone who does, killing them is too easy a way out and don't joke about that when I have a mouthful of beer."
"That's four things," she said. She took my hand, looked me in the eyes and said, "Suns going down, time we made tracks don't you think." With her other hand she stroked her leg lifting the dress so I could see her stocking tops. That put her comment right out of my head.
I wanted to run home, but she kept me at a sedate pace, teasing me. When we got home she sat me in a chair and fetched me a bottle of my favourite beer and told me to stay put, then she disappeared upstairs. 15 minutes later she came down, she was all in white, in a basque, long gloves, stockings, fuck me shoes and carrying our toy bag, I knew that bag contained a set of handcuffs, some soft rope, a vibrator, a latex strip we used as a blindfold and a ball gag, "Are you going to join me upstairs?" I left a burning scorch mark across the carpet and up the stairs. When I went into our bed room she was facing away from me with her wrists crossed behind her back, she looked over her shoulder and said, "One of us has too many clothes on." I soon rectified that, but had problems with my underpants getting stuck on a sticking out thing.
I took a piece of rope from the bag, placed her wrists together, wrapped the rope several times around her wrists and clinched it off, "too tight?" I asked.
"Just right," she replied, I took another piece of rope and tied it around her elbows, not tight, just enough to cause pressure.
"What's your safety word and action?"
"Rhubarb and scream through the gag," she replied.
I lifted her hair out of the way and started kissing her neck My left hand lifted her breast from the basque cup and I teased her nipple, I ran my right hand down her front through her pubic hair past her clitoris and put my index finger into to her vagina, then with the lubrication I found there I moved my finger back to her clitoris and started drawing circles round it and occasionally over it.
She groaned and her legs collapsed, I had been expecting that and held her up, "Gag," she muttered I grabbed her favourite ball gag, firm enough to keep her mouth full but soft enough she could crush it in the throes of passion. She opened her mouth so I could fit it. I carried on playing with her clitoris until her legs gave way again, she was just short of an orgasm, I laid her on her back on the bed, opened her legs and gently repeated what I had done to her clitoris with my tongue, just round the outside and then right across it every two or three circles, she shuddered, I got it wrong, that was her first orgasm, I was trying to tease. I slipped two fingers inside her and moved them slowly in and out whilst still paying attention to her clitoris with my tongue, on one of my insertions to full depth I bent my fingers to her 'G' spot. I was almost thrown off by her reaction.
I raised myself to my knees, lifted her legs and slowly inserted myself in, all the way in, up to my nuts in guts, I moved slowly back and fore, keeping up a steady gentle rhythm, on one stroke at full depth I stayed fully embedded, took hold of the vibrator and applied it gently to her clitoris. I was nearly ejected from where I was lodged and I believe my ancestry was called into doubt, "Ast'd!" it sounded like. I removed the vibrator and continued with my gentle insertions waiting for her to come down a bit. When her eyes started to focus I picked up speed gradually, pushing as deep as I could. Again deep inside I stopped and applied the vibrator to her clitoris.
A pair of stiletto heels stabbed my back side and I heard, " Ese uk ee, Ese. Ore, ore," I try to never disappoint anyone especially a lady and this was My Lady. Long and hard and deep I went, I gave it my all. I lost 10 or 20 seconds with the shuddering of two bodies, as often happens with us, one of us having an orgasm brings on the other one. She was out of it, completely gone, before the inevitable sleep overtook me, I manged to ungag and untie her, remove the basque, stockings and gloves. Just as I finished she rolled over and slid into my arms with a huge sigh and a sweet smile on her face. Sleep quickly enveloped me.
I woke up at three as normal for a visit to the little boys room, laying back in bed after I had done the business my mind found its way back to her comment about having sex with another man. Where the fuck did that come from I wondered. Lying there lots of things went through my mind, did she want to have sex with another man? Fuck, had she already done it? Was she planning to do it? Was she going to ask me if she could? Was she going to do it behind my back? Had she already done it? Was last night part of the softening up process? Was it a pity fuck or a guilty fuck? Did she do it because she had something to tell me?
Sleep was not going to come easily now. I dragged my mind back, were there any signs, late working, dressing differently, dressing sexier, girl's nights out later than usual. I racked my brains, nothing so probably not done it yet. And who would it be? Neighbours? No, none of them sprang to mind, someone at work, possibly, a couple of the production guys were good looking and fit and I had often caught them having a surreptitious glance at her at company parties. The sales chappy Andrew, he was always creeping around the ladies One of the designers was single and fit, bugger it could be a married man, shit it may not be a man, it could be a woman. One of the 2Cs, no not one of them, surely she had better taste than that. No not a woman, she had said "sex with another man", did she want a threesome. Shit my mind was fucked up. I did not sleep well the rest of the night.
She was up early bouncing around cheerful like she had just had a good fucking the night before, she had. She brought me tea in bed and told me that a fried breakfast was on and to get up, she had packed a hamper to go on the back of the Herald for lunch and she got one of her summer dresses out to put on, looking at me she said, "if I wear this dress will my stocking tops show getting out of the car?"
I smiled and said, "I will be a gentleman and open your door so only I can see." that resulted in a massive grin.
