This is a fictional tale of a mature housewife and the consequences when she agrees to 'do a little favour' for her husband. The 'thin end of the wedge' that changes her life forever. The themes are swinging, cuckolding, exhibitionism, prostitution, S&M, and associated activities. Any resemblance to persons alive or dead is purely coincidental. All characters in the story are at least 18 years old, some a lot older, and a lot of them behave quite irresponsibly. Remember, when you are misbehaving, do it responsibly. Now read on...
"Oh, oh, ha, ha, ha, ha..."
Sally sweated, flat on her back, under her husband's body as he had his 'lunchtime' sex. He was holding himself up on his elbows to keep his weight off her chest, and his hairy buttocks were rising and falling rhythmically. She watched the ceiling over her husband's shoulder as his hard thrusts made her view judder, there was a cobweb on the light fitting and she made a mental note to deal with it when he'd gone back to work.
He often came home for lunch for, as he put it, a 'good fuck', especially in the summer time. The heat seemed to make him more randy, it certainly made things more sweaty, she just wished he'd have a shower to get rid of the dirt from the building site before he pushed her down onto the sofa, the bed, or the kitchen table and roughly fucked her until he came.
Red-haired Sally was 39, with a narrow waist, broad hips, chunky thighs, and large but rather saggy breasts. She had never considered herself attractive in any way and had been pleased to be courted by Tom, at the time. That was ten years ago and the tall, dark, muscular builder she fell in love with then was now a bit overweight. Actually - if she was honest with herself - he was a lot overweight.
And he'd turned out to be a lot less romantic than she'd hoped, though she couldn't fault his work ethic or his enthusiasm for sex. He wanted it at least once per day, twice when he could get away from work at lunchtime. Sometimes three times on Saturdays. His preferred position was with her underneath him either face up, in classic missionary position, or face down in 'lazy rear entry'. Then he'd spread her legs, and pound away. Occasionally, when he was in a particularly good mood, Sally was permitted to choose the position but it didn't last long before she was 'put in her place', as Tom called it.
"Oh, oh... that's nice dear... aaah, aaah, aaah.", she moaned into his shoulder. It was often faked pleasure, but just occasionally, he managed to really get her going, and then the the sounds were real. Today he was grinding into her clit most effectively, so it could possibly be a better day - provided he didn't cum too soon.
"Uh, uh, uh... ", grunted Tom then he started to tense up, "... aaah, fuck, yes, Yes, YES! I'm cumming!"
Sally felt the warmth of his cum as he spurted inside her, his hips heavy on hers as he twitched and emptied his balls. She clutched at him as he sighed with satisfaction and dropped down on top of her, pushing her deeper into the mattress.
"Ten years married and I've still got it."
"Yes dear...", she replied.
"But...", there was a long pause, "... I fancy something new."
"Sorry dear?"
"I were talking to George yesterday. He's always had the hots for you, you know."
"I didn't know that, Tom.".
"Well... he and I had an idea about a good bit of fun."
"Fun, dear?"
"Yeah... I want to watch him fuck you."
"What!"
"I want to sit on that chair over there in the corner and watch him take you. I want to see your pleasure. I want to hear you shout his name as you cum."
"Where did this idea come from?"
"I told you, George and I talked about it. He lost his wife a year ago now... the poor guy's feeling randy as hell."
"I thought you said his wife ran away?"
"Yes... that's what I said... he lost his wife. He's tried a couple of whores, and they're okay, but he says he'd prefer you."
"And you're okay with this, Tom?"
"You'd just be opening your legs for a friend of mine. Being a fuck buddy I think it's called. It's not as if you're doing it behind my back. Or you're gonna run away with him."
"Well I'm not sure about it."
"He's got a good sized cock."
"How do you know? Have you been wanking each other."
"Don't be stupid woman. The Black Bull's loos have one of them long, communal, stainless steel, urinals. You can't help but see everyone's cock. Especially if they's well endowed and proud of what they've got."
"And this idea gets you excited?" She didn't need to ask the question. As he talked she could feel his cock twitching inside her and swelling. More like this and he'd want to go again.
"I read in the newspaper that it's good for your sex life if you indulge a fantasy with your wife."
Sally thought most of those fantasies would involve candle-lit, romantic, meals, followed by significant amounts of foreplay. Not a mate of your husband being invited around for a beer and adultery.
"And what about my part in this?", Sally tried to get Tom to think of her feelings.
"I reckon you'll enjoy it. I'm good, but a bit of variety after ten years'll do you good. And that'll be good for the pair of us. In fact I'm feeling randy myself just thinking about it."
He pulled his rapidly engorging penis out of his wife sat up, then rolled her onto her front. She gasped with the force of the movement. Then Tom knelt between her legs with his hands on her generous buttocks. She felt his knees between her thighs, then the strength of him as he pushed her legs apart. As she stared at the pillows she could imagine her cum stained cunt gaping wider as her legs were forced open.
"See... ", he whispered in her ear, "... it's working already."
She knew the routine, his cock into her cunt, not very gently, a shuffle while he positioned himself for good thrusting. Then his hands moving from her buttocks to her shoulder-blades just before he set to fucking.
"Dear... won't you be late for work."
"No...", he replied, "... this won't take long, luv."
His cock wasn't the largest, or fattest, of cocks she had experienced. She'd been with a couple of men before her marriage, and both had been better endowed. But the head of his cock was a pleasing mushroom shape, and he did get very hard when he was randy, no need to 'thumb him in', ever. And he certainly had stamina, once he set off, and got past the sensitive penis stage, he could go on for an hour. Today he wasn't going to be that long, he was pounding away with little regard for endurance, clearly excited by the prospect of seeing her with George.
He grunted, "Ya, ya, ya, ya,", as he pounded away, distorting her buttocks and pushing her body forwards with each impact. As his cock stirred her cunt she wondered if the 'fun' was Tom's idea, or George's. She had been faithful to Tom, and believed he had been faithful to her. Now he was giving her permission to be unfaithful. Did this mean he had already wandered? Had he fucked a local whore, or even worse, one of her girlfriends? Was he guiltily trying to even the score?
"Tom... ah, ah, oooh.", she gasped. His cock was giving her pleasure, he was making sure he kept plenty of action happening in the most sensitive part of her cunt. She began to think that if he wanted some naughtiness, and that was the price of keeping him happy, and holding on to her marriage, then she would go along with his plan.
"Okay Tom... I'll fuck George, if that's what you want."
"Ya, ya, ya, ya...", Tom's grunts continued, but there was a tone of satisfaction, and an increase in speed.
"Oh Tom...", Sally realised she was about to cum, "... oh fuck! Fuck! FUCK!!"
Tom pounded a few more times, then came himself. Pulling out he spilled his sperm across Sally's buttocks and back. She lay still, glowing from her orgasm, while he dressed.
"I'll see you tonight then.", he smiled, "I'll let George know he can come over after tea."
Once he had gone Sally showered. The warm water washed away the sweat, sperm, and building site debris from her pores and relaxed her. She looked down at her large, but very soft and saggy breasts, her rounded tummy with its double crease, and her chubby thighs and wondered if - when he actually got to see her naked - George would be turned on enough to perform. It would make for a very embarrassing evening if she couldn't give him a hard-on. Getting a thrill from fantasising about a mate's wife was a long way from the bare truth of that same woman stripping naked in front of him with all her flaws. What if he ran away? What if he laughed at her? And was she now officially a slut for having agreed to do this?
She stripped the bed and washed the sheets and pillow cases, then hung them in the garden to dry. As the sheets flapped in the sunshine, Sally indulged herself in a Pimm's while stretching out in the garden lounger. A voice over the hedge caught her attention. She shaded her eyes from the sun trying to see who it was.
"Sally! Nice to see you. Is that a Pimm's?"
It was the voice of Diana, from the Manor House up the hill.
"Come in, Diana. There's plenty left in the bottle."
Diana draped her elegant figure across the second lounger and graciously accepted a drink. They chatted for a few minutes about village gossip and then Sally decided to see just how 'modern' her friend was. There were rumours of wild cocktail parties at the Manor, with keys in the fruit bowl and everything. Probably just stories from people jealous of Diana and Howard's relaxed lifestyle, but they might be true. Perhaps a bit of advice from Diana would be useful.
"Diana?"
"Yes Sally"
"Tom wants to watch me being fucked by George, his mate from the building site."
"Oh."
"Yes. I've said I will 'cos I don't want to lose Tom, but what do you think? Should I?"
"I didn't have Tom down as a cuck, or voyeur. Has he ever suggested this before?"
"No, it came out of the blue. Just an hour ago, and he wants to bring George around tonight."
"Well I like the occasional change, but I think you guessed that I'm a bit of a tart."
"Well I've heard the rumours about what happens at the Manor. Do you really enjoy it?"
"Oh yes. I like a different cock, and the feeling that I can turn on a man who is only there for the sex, no relationship, no strings, is pretty powerful."
