I was 33 when we first met: Kerry was 25. She was single but on the rebound from an expired relationship with a childhood sweetheart. I was married but, for all kinds of reasons, it had started to wobble. Kerry's job as a rep brought her into contact with my office from time to time and she got an invite to our office Christmas party in 1980 which is where it all began.
She wasn't exactly what you'd call drop dead gorgeous but she had auburn hair and a stunning figure with boobs several sizes too big for her frame. We met and fell for each other and after the party we drove to her flat and spent the whole night fucking each other senseless. She said that she had never been fucked for that duration before and I had simply never been fucked – in the sense of having someone on top of me giving me as good as I was giving them.
Somehow we both knew that this was destined to be much more than a one-night stand.
And so our long affair began. For the next few months we saw as much of each other as we could and the sex of course continued, although I was occasionally aware that I might not be the only name in her little black book, as it were. There wasn't much I could say, however, as I was still living under the same roof as my wife in what was, by now, a doomed relationship but I couldn't just walk out as Kerry wanted me to do.
So bit by bit I dismantled the marriage until a big argument erupted and I took the opportunity to walk out of the marital home. I got a flat and saw Kerry almost every night but, for various reasons, it was still too early for us to move in together...... this we did a year or so after we had first met.
Kerry was the first (and only) person in my life with a sex drive equal to mine; in some ways it was greater than mine and we used to joke about this. What was new to her was my fantasy about wife/partner sharing and this theme crept into our love-making to the point where the adrenaline was missing for both of us unless I was fucking her mind with those fantasies as well as fucking her body.
When I told her the truth about what I had once done during my marriage [see "1972" in Loving Wives] I had to suppress the noise of her orgasm for fear of our being evicted from the flat. Time and time again she asked to hear all the lurid details – on one occasion this happened when she was driving us in her car to the Lake District with my hand frantically working away inside her panties.
What I didn't realise was the degree to which, slowly but surely, I was forging what would turn out to be the means of my own downfall.
*
We bought a small cottage together about 14 miles out of town, nothing too spectacular as Kerry didn't earn all that much and I was on the receiving end of a costly divorce which would prove a drain on resources for some time to come.
Our sex together was simply the best I had ever had, nearly always enhanced by the sharing of what, by now, had become mutual fantasies.
Kerry still wanted to maintain a degree of independence which was fine by me. She had her job of course, as I had mine, and the first warning sign came soon after we had moved in together. A year earlier (when things between us were still a bit uncertain) she had arranged to go on holiday for a week with her parents to Greece and on the appointed date, off she went with me driving her to the airport. Some weeks after she returned I found some photos (which she had hidden) of a man on a beach at night wearing only a satisfied smile. The truth came out....Kerry and he had met at the hotel and spent several nights together. He was from France and they had no intentions of seeing each other again: it had just been one of those brief holiday romances – a 'fling!'
Fling or not, we ended up having a violent row, in the course of which Kerry eventually got round me by saying:
"
Just treat it like another fantasy: you like the idea of me
getting screwed by someone else, don't you
?" She knew just how to handle me and so I ended up fucking her as hard as I had done on our first night together and she just couldn't believe it ( when I thought about it afterwards, neither could I ) The boundary between fantasy and reality had taken one more step along the road to extinction.
There followed numerous instances when Kerry told me during sex of people she had met and flirted with (or worse) – mostly through her job – and I was left to work out for myself whether this was fantasy, reality or a mixture of both. Whichever was correct, it began not to matter; it always had the desired effect and the sex continued to be unbelievable.
I was flirting too – who doesn't – but I was actually staying loyal to Kerry as far as actual sex was concerned and I began to see a longer-term future for the two of us together. There were lots of ups and downs of course, but also times when I really thought this was it: I was in love.
Over the next couple of years together things stayed at the same level except that Kerry had started to become more of an exhibitionist. When she fancied someone she would make it obvious even when I was there with her. Part of me enjoyed this (I loved the idea of other men lusting after her) but it did make me wonder what was happening when I wasn't there.
*
Kerry and I did agree at one point that we wouldn't cheat on each other by fucking around behind the other's back.
Once during this period we went away for a week to the City of Bath and stayed at a small hotel. Our room on the ground floor had a large low window which looked directly onto the hotel car park at the rear of the building. One evening when we returned to our room after dinner there was a large Transit type van parked right up against our window, and we could easily hear the two men inside the van talking. Kerry refused to let me draw the blinds and stripped off in front of the window (remember those fabulous tits?) and we then fucked on the bed in full view, as if oblivious to their presence.
Whether she was serious or not I'll never know but she then asked me if I wanted to invite them into our room. At the time I guess the fantasy was good enough without invoking the reality – at least it was to me - and so the blinds eventually got drawn. Slowly but surely Kerry was playing me at my own game and winning.
So there is the backcloth for what happened next in the autumn of 1984. It may be a bit long and drawn out but it puts into context the most exciting yet most destructive event in the whole of my sexual life.
I'm a lawyer and in those days in the early 1980s I used to spend quite a bit of time in court, often dealing with petty crime and family law matters. To some extent, I could make up my own hours, which I often did.
So, one day in the autumn of 1984 after a court case collapsed I decided at short notice to take the afternoon off and so I drove home to our cottage. When I got there I was surprised to see Kerry's car parked on the drive as she would normally have been at work at that time.
Also parked outside was a small white van which meant that I had to park a little way down the road and walk back. As I entered the front door I heard the unmistakable sounds of panic from above. The stairs were directly in front of the door I had just entered so, without thinking, I called out Kerry's name and nervously went upstairs.
Maybe I should explain at this point that our cottage was very small. The front door opened straight into the living room, beyond which there was a large kitchen/dining room. The stairs, which came down directly into the sitting room (opposite to the front door) led straight into the main bedroom, beyond which were a bathroom and a guest bedroom.
The two men, both I guess in their 20s and complete strangers to me, were obviously very surprised and embarrassed.
*
Kerry was standing next to one of them but it seemed clear that a few seconds earlier, judging by the state of the bedding, one or all of them had been lying on our large double bed. The men were fumbling with their clothing, obviously getting dressed as hurriedly as they could.
I know this may sound silly but one thing that upset me as much as anything was what Kerry was wearing.
On top she had a boob-tube (which she often wore) but the skirt she had on was a very special one that, as far as I knew, she only ever wore for me in the bedroom. It was like a tennis skirt, navy, pleated and very short. I believe that Kerry had had it since she was a teenager but it was far too revealing to wear outside the house. She had once put it on for me in the bedroom as a kind of joke and after that it was only ever worn when she wanted sex because she knew what effect it had on me. It was her "Fuck Me" skirt and she put it on for one reason and one reason only!
The two men made as if you leave and Kerry suddenly said, "
Don't go. We want you to stay: both of us"
I stood there, too confused and angry to say anything at first but Kerry opened her mouth and ran her tongue around the inside of her lips suggestively, so that was that. I was as hard as a rock inside my pants and I mumbled
"
No, you don't have to go"
and then, in my trance-like state of shock, I found myself rather stupidly asking if they wanted me to get some drinks to which the answer was "yes". Downstairs in the kitchen my hands wouldn't stop trembling and shaking as I tried to compose myself with a shot or two of whisky.
[Years later, when I think back to this incident – which I often do – I find myself wishing that I had asked if they'd like any tea with their crumpet! Another of those lines we wish we had said but, at the time, weren't quick enough off the mark]
I think I must have been downstairs in the kitchen for a good five minutes and, at first, could only hear talking from upstairs.
Then it started!!!
Our bedroom was almost directly above and, not only could I hear the unmistakable creaking of the bed, it sounded as if the ceiling itself might come down at any moment. I went back upstairs!
Kerry was lying across the bed with her boob-tube around her neck and one of the men holding her arms up above her head and eating her face and tits. The other man was pounding his very stiff cock into Kerry's wet pussy with his trousers round his ankles and her skirt pushed up to her waist........... her panties were somewhere on the floor.
*
The noises they were making – oblivious to my presence – were pulling my mind in one direction and my body in the other. It was torture and went on for longer than I care to remember as I stood there, just watching, with a lump in my throat and a bigger one in my trousers.
The man who was holding her down was starting to look a bit uncomfortable at me just standing there watching – still wearing my suit – and he said
"
She asked us here mate.
