This picks up from Part 2. To put everything into context I strongly suggest that you read these episodes in their numerical order, as I jump about a bit in chronology - it is difficult enough for me to remember how and when everything happened!
I got to the end of the letter, stood up from the computer and gazing out of the kitchen window, I drew the palm of my hand across the erection in my trousers. Anita had really opened up to me and evidently felt a bit vulnerable. I told myself that I probably needed to do the same, for a couple of reasons -- we always got on better when neither of us thought that either held too much power over the other in the relationship; and I wanted to encourage the rediscovery of her sexuality. I have always really liked fucking her (or making love, according to the setting and our state of minds), and now it seems she was enjoying fucking me again, and I was really excited about finding out where it might lead us. I was intrigued that she thought that I might think of her as a slut. OK, she had admitted that she went along to watch a friend shoot a porn film, got a bit carried away, and tossed off the leading man into her friend's mouth. Not a typical afternoon's natter over a pot of tea, certainly, but nothing too sluttish in Anita's own behaviour, surely?! Well, this was another area for me to ponder. She had indeed been candid, but there were several items omitted from her list of her recent sexual adventure...
After our night at the hotel a few weeks ago I had been curious to find out more about how and why my wife had found her mojo so suddenly, to the extent that every Wednesday evening since then had ended with a mix of raw sex and some exquisite love-making between us. So, last Wednesday I made my excuses to my golfing mates (we had a routine of playing Monday, Wednesday and Fridays), and equipped with a local map, camera and binoculars, I laid in wait in the car park where Anita collected her car when she locked up the Charity shop. That afternoon I saw her and another woman, who I now surmised to be Zoe, chatting away as they made for Anita's car. They got in and drove off. To cut a long story short I followed them, several cars behind, to a house several miles away, which I assumed to where the photographers lived. They pulled into the driveway and I drove passed. The detached house was secluded, in leafy woodland on edge of the village. I took the next left and found somewhere to park a couple of hundred metres along the lane. What to do next? From the map of the area it appeared that there were woods to the back of the house, so armed with binoculars and a camera I made my way into the woodland.
A footpath took me to a hundred metres or so of the rear of the property and as quietly as I could I made my way through the bushes and undergrowth towards the fence at the bottom of their back garden. The house itself was not in view but I could just about make out its roof where there was a gap in the trees. Once I had reached the various walls, hedging and 8-foot fence, which marked the perimeter of the property, it was clear that the house and its rear garden was not overlooked by its nearest neighbour, which was over 50 metres away. It seemed like an ideal location for the privacy that alfresco sexual activity, including shooting amateur porn films, would require.
Taking care to keep quiet with my movements, as I could hear voices on the other side, I slowly and carefully I surveyed the fence and after 10 minutes or so found what I was looking for -- a knothole. The fence had been there for many years and had aged and weathered sufficiently for the odd knothole to have fallen out. I peeked into the garden. Flowerbeds, ornamental bushes, lawn, garden furniture -- all very normal. I could make out the edge of the conservatory, but little else. No-one was in sight, but their voices were audible. I found another knothole, and bingo! There, just 20 metres or so in front me was a sight to behold!
Zoe, Anita and who was this?! It looked like Jo, who was the wife of Wes, one of my golfing mates. What the hell was going on here?! The three of them were standing on the patio talking to Beth, all of them in their high heels and white underwear -- a mixture of bras, panties, thongs, suspenders and stockings. Zoe's tits were on display in a delightfully minimal open-cupped bra and matching tiny thong. She was fiddling with her suspender belt, breasts wobbling and nipples hardening to the soft breeze. Jo was adjusting her slightly more modest, but totally sheer, bra and plumping her ample breasts with what looked like a nicely-trimmed bush under her matching sheer panties. Anita had one hand on hip and the other tending to some wayward strands of hair. She stood confidently, legs crossed, in a delicate lacy bra and thong combination that I had not seen before. They were all listening to Beth's instructions.
"... so after last week's photo shoot indoors, what Zoe would like this time is some video of you strolling around the garden, wiggling your bum, posing, front side, rear, bending over, you know the sort of thing the guys like, sitting on the chairs, crossing and uncrossing legs, and if you're happy with the idea, lying back on the table. It's entirely up to you what you want to do with any more undressing -- whatever you're comfortable with. Then, we'll have the main event. So, who's going first?!"
Zoe led the way. It was obvious she had done this dozens of times before. Anita and Jo watched intently as, with Beth (cut-off denims and bikini top) scurrying after her, Zoe sashayed around expertly letting her hands explore her body, cupping her bosom and slowly drawing her hands away to fully reveal her beautifully proportioned tits. I recognised her now as a centrefold model I had unloaded my balls over many years ago. She no longer had the big hair but had definitely aged very well! She sat on the table, leant back at touch and, lifting her legs together, slowly drew her panties down over her thighs and down to her ankles. Reclining further, she then opened her legs keeping her stiletto'd feet together. Beth zoomed in to the folds of her treasure and Zoe parted her lips with her fingers to gain a more intimate view. Anita gasped, and I saw her squirming as she crossed and uncrossed her legs. Zoe rose and got down from the table.
"There you go ladies."
My eyes were glued to the knothole, body rigid, and my cock demanding release from my trousers. I felt like a furtive 15-year old! I could see Anita and Jo look at each other and get to their feet. They then each put on a fancy glittery mask, which covered their eyes, forehead and nose. Then, holding hands, they began their sexy strut around the garden. Clearly, they were not as experienced as Zoe, and they giggled as they helped each other out of their bras. There was a lovely moment when they stood face to face caressing their own tits and then gently rubbed their nipples together. Anita's were now standing out like bullets, and she and Jo strolled down the garden towards me. I held my breath as they were just a few meters away from the fence. I could almost touch their soft flesh.
"If your husband could see you now!" whispered Jo.
I thought I could detect a worried look on Anita's face before a smirk took over and her confidence returned. My cock was now twitching in my boxer shorts. My God, this was erotic! I had never been in such a voyeuristic position before -- it was intoxicating.
The two ladies paused for a chat as Beth asked for a quick break to go over and talk to Zoe. Jo spoke first.
"Remember the last time when we met, at that stuffy golf club do? I think I made some misplaced saucy comment, which after your reaction, I immediately regretted. I wouldn't have thought that we'd next meet like this!"
