7 comments/ 21512 views/ 1 favorites Another View of Amanda Williams By: mandywilluk2000 I have written a great deal about my relationship with my ex husband. In some ways, it was the failure of that relationship which prompted me to become a Literotica contributor. Recently, Kevin and I have found another sort of relationship. We now talk, in depth. And from that I have learned more about him, me and what was us. I have also realized that there are always at least two sides to everything. This is another side to many of the stories I have penned for this great, erotic writing site. Chapter 1 It must have been some sight. An eighteen year old, gorgeous looking bird with a mane of wild, chestnut coloured hair propped up against the desk in an office with a thirty-year-old bloke. The girl, her legs open, her jeans round her ankles, and her sweater bunched round her shoulders was being fucked. The bloke, his trousers round his knees, his shirt open was hammering into her. It was their first fuck. They were doing it in the ad agency where the girl worked as a junior copywriter and where the thirty-year-old bloke was a client. The copywriter was breaking the first law of advertising, 'never fuck the client.' The client was being a bastard and taking advantage of the new, young, junior copywriter who, fresh from university, was working on her first account. It was a bit of a fucking mess, but both were too into each other to care. It was an equally wild sight. A twenty-year-old girl with a forty-five-year-old bloke. The same bloke, a different girl and a different place. This time, it was a plush car, a hotel room, her flat or anywhere really, where the young woman was getting shafted. Similar scene though, skirt round her waist, blouse open, tits out of her bra and me laying behind her spreaded legs, fucking her. Hi, I'm Kevin; I married the first one Mandy and had loads of the second ones. I never loved Amanda, but then I have never loved anyone and aren't really too sure what love is, other than it seems to be a fucking restraining order on what most men like doing most, screwing loads of birds. I did, and nearly every man I knew either did, or wanted to. So, thirteen years of me and Mandy. Where have they gone? What happened, why did it all go so wrong? Simple, me and my dick: I just had to exercise it too much. So I exercised that, she found out, she forgave me, she found out, she forgave me; she found out, she kicked me out. Simple straightforward and happening all the time. I guess on balance I did well, she only found out three times, there was, possibly, a hundred. That includes chicks I pulled, birds that worked for me (I considered it part of their induction to shag them), friends we had known for ages, hookers, massage parlor girls and, really, anything I could get my hands. Am I bastard or what? Don't answer that. She was a good shag, Mandy that is. Not that adventurous, but really enthusiastic and a quick learner. But, she was too conservative. I tried to loosen her up, suggested swinging or partner sharing, but all that 'fell on deaf ears,' just as did my requests for anal. In the entire thirteen years we were together She only let me into that lovely, secret passage twice, and one of those was with my finger!. I tried to get her to relive some of her peccadilloes that I knew she had got up to at uni with other girls, but that got nowhere, well not until near the end. In fact, I think that when I got her to agree to go with Jenny, that was the end. I was 'relatively' well behaved during the first few years of our relationship. That was the year or so we 'went out', while she lived with her parents, the six months or so when she shared a flat with two other girls and the year or so we lived together before getting married. I even kept up my 'relatively good behaviour' in the first couple of years of that. By 'relatively well behaved' I don't mean I didn't have bits on the side. Of course I did, players always do don't they? We can't help it; it's just the numbers that alter! So during that 'honeymoon period' with Mandy, I didn't actually go out of my way to seek it; I more, rather let it find me. And enough did to keep me ticking over. But then that was when I was building the business and was traveling, by myself most of the time, all over the world. I was a buyer, I was a boss, I was businessman, I was a big spender and those sorts of things attract pussy just like honey attracts bees. So I had enough cunt, my fair share, I was happy, I had nothing to prove. Oh yes, I had given up using whores, well a man has to straighten himself up a bit when he marries doesn't he? Hookers apart, I had women who worked for clients, women who worked for my or associated companies in places like Singapore, Bahrain, Qatar, Oz and the States, women who were also traveling on business (the easiest and the best by far to pull, excuse me, let come to me I mean, when on the road) and expats frustrated wives. All innocent, all just sex, all just bits on the side. But back to Mandy. After that first fuck in the ad agency where she handled my account, well actually she handled my cock, balls and other parts of me as well, we saw a lot of each other and I don't just mean without clothes! I was building this oil-field equipment packaging business and needed an agency to write specialist ads to go in technical mags. I wasn't a big spending client, so I go the junior copywriter. If she hadn't been so fucking attractive I would have told the snooty account manager to shove it up his arse, but when I saw Mandy all I could think of was shoving it up her arse: that took five years in the end and may well have been the reason we stayed together so long. See I'm a patient guy really. Chapter 2 At that time Mandy was slim. She had a gorgeous body. She was 5 6 or so and weighed less than 130 pounds. She had long, slender legs, a totally, flat stomach and nice little tits with wonderfully chewy nipples. And of course she had that great mane of wavy, shoulder-length, chestnut coloured hair that she had then that she kept all through our relationship and still has today. Apparently, she had been studying English at Bristol University, but had got fed up and quit. Mum and dad as they usually do in such circumstances had firstly gone barmy, they so want to keep up fucking appearances that Mandy leaving uni, was, in their eyes as bad as her having a black baby! But dad had connections and he used them. So, Mandy ended up as a junior copywriter in a well-known, West End ad agency. Sure, it paid peanuts, but it was a great training ground for a young bird, both in the practice of advertising, basically writing fucking bullshit and pretending you know more about everything than your client, and in life. London was far more swinging then, 1989, than it was in the time when it was famous for that. So Mandy started learning about life in the big city. I wanted to fuck her immediately Colin Blakeney-Smith, the Account Director introduced us. She was wearing a loose shirt outside her knee length, denim skirt that had, fashionably at the time, brass buttons all the way up the front. As girls did then, she had left several undone so that when she sat opposite me the skirt parted and fell away from her upper leg, which was crossed over her lower one. She had gorgeously tanned legs and seemingly bloody long ones. The tan had been gained as a 'reward' for flunking university by her overindulgent, snooty parents taking her to their house in Naples Florida for a couple of weeks, wankers. I, of course, was totally mesmerised by her and the great display of flesh she was, seemingly innocently, flashing at me. I flattered her on the crap she had given me as copy and said how pleased I was to be working with, as CB-S put it, this 'raw, new talent', what a load of bollocks admen speak! Actually she was good with words; it was just the message that was daft. Giving it all I had with my charm, staring at her, flattering her and trying to tell her with my eyes just how much I wanted her, I felt we made progress. We had a couple of meetings and a couple of lunches, but all the time CB-S tagged along, what was he, her fucking chaperone, I wondered. Things went a bit flat with Mandy as I had a six week trip through the middle and Far East, Australian and back home via LA and Houston. Fucking hard work sees. We were able to keep in touch by fax, remember those? And the occasionally horrendously expensive phone calls, so I saw how the campaign was coming along: it was pretty good. Once back in London I had two objectives: get the ad and marketing campaign finished and continue with my fuck Mandy campaign. Oh, there was the minor irritation and inconvenience of me being married at the time, but as she was my age, actually a month or so older and had been a spur of the moment action a couple of years earlier, she was on her way out. The marriage was all over bar the paperwork, but due to a temporary cash flow problem, basically I had put everything into the business and was as good as broke, I couldn't afford to end it, I did actually have a few birds on the go at the time, but none got to me like posh Amanda, as I thought of her: well that is when I wasn't thinking of her naked, with my cock in her mouth or something equally sexy. It all happened very quickly, far more so than I had expected, but not as fast as I had hoped. I didn't have that much to do other than work on the campaign so I started occupying more and more of her time, both at the agency and at my poky offices in the East End. We had endless meetings, long meetings and as I made them, flirty meetings. I bought her pizzas, took her to pubs and restaurants, mainly in Covent Garden near the agency. All the time we were getting closer. We had popped out from the agency for some pasta and were returning at around seven or seven thirty. It was deserted. We had had a bottle of wine and y, I thought, Mandy asked if I would like some more. "How, shall I go out and get some?" "No there's no need, all the brass have fridges stuffed full of beers and wine so that they can entertain clients. You're a client, so I can entertain you." Bingo I thought, there's the opening. "I can think of other ways than wine Mandy." I said looking right into her eyes. We were seated across a small coffee table on low chairs. She was wearing tight, blue jeans, which showed her great bum off to magnificent effect, and a thin, yellow vee neck sweater under which the swell of her little boobs was quite apparent. She looked great. She smiled as she stood up. "And how, I wonder, could that be?" she asked in a rather flirty manner, which was unusual for her. So far nearly all of her reactions to me had been dead straight. I had at times wondered whether I was 'pissing in the wind' with her and that it might be best to forget trying to pull her. But then I would think of her lithe body, her nice tits, great arse and fantastic hair and I knew that not trying to get into her knickers simply was not an option. I had to try; men like me see no other way. I fancied her so she became a target and I had to try to get the bull's eye, well you do, don't you? I stood up. Smiling at her and holding her gaze I said. "Oh I think you can guess that Mandy." Again, that unusual for her coquettish smile as she said. "I have no idea what you can mean... Kevin." By adding my name, after that short pause, Mandy seemed to change the context of the sentence. Until the word 'mean' it sounded that she genuinely may not have known, but by using my name, it was clear that she did. That put her in the game, that got her in play, that made her fair game. We just looked at each other for a moment or two. I saw the signs: the slight smile, the wrinkling of the eyes, the small inclination of her head and the holding of my gaze. They were signs of interest, small signs but, to an experienced player like me, such meaningful ones that she almost might as well have taken her knickers off and said fuck me. I moved a tad closer into her space, closer than people usually stand, close enough so that I could smell her perfume almost feel her heat, close in a way that was suggestive and enquiring. That's always a good, non-verbal proposition. Get that close and leave it to the bird. She can move away, basically saying probably not, there isn't a 'definitely no' in my world, or she can stay right there and essentially say the same as the small signs earlier had said. Mandy didn't move an inch or bat an eyelid. To be honest I was surprised. Pleased and fucking excited yes, but certainly surprised for she hadn't shown many signs of really fancying me. Over the next few minutes, that all changed and how! After muttering "I think you know exactly what I mean," I closed the space between us and put my hand right on her hip. Again she didn't move so then I really went for it. She was quickly in my arms and our mouths were clamped. She was a better kisser than I would have guessed and she soon got her tongue as far down my throat as I got mine down hers. She was also far more into me that I had thought. There was little hold off or resistance, the fucking morals of the young has gone to pieces haven't they? She didn't stop me: kissing her deep, long and hugely energetically, crushing her body against mine, squashing her tits against my chest and running my hands up and dawn her back and onto her bum. And she joined in. She: kissed me back as enthusiastically as I was kissing her, she squirmed her body against mine and she thrust her stomach as firmly against mine as I was pressing against hers. When we broke the kiss for a moment I murmured. "Don't you Mandy?" Again that beguilingly flirty smile. "I'm beginning to get the idea now" she said putting both of her arms round my neck. That's always a great sign for a girl opens her chest up by doing that, it's almost a signal to say 'there you go, there's my tits for you.' Well that's how I take it and how I took it then. And on the point of tits, when going for them I never believe in sodding around. None of this light touch first, then a gentle squeeze all outside the clothing before getting inside. No, I go for broke. Hand straight inside right on the tit, a few nice squeezes then get inside the bra. As the Yanks say, 'It's important to press the flesh.' It's also bloody nice and once you've got the girl's bare tit flesh you've as good as got her. And that was exactly how it went with Mandy. I found out later that she had fancied me almost as much as I had her since about the same time; a minute or two after meeting in my case. So when I went for it she was pleased and was very much up for it. In fact, she admitted a few weeks later, I could have had her much sooner, bloody women, you never know where you are do you With her arms round my neck it was easy to slip my hand up her thin sweater. I felt her body jerk and heard a sharp intake of breath as I cupped her breast. It obviously felt good for her, it certainly did for me, and she had nice tits. With such a positive reaction I didn't bugger around at all. As we kissed again I slid my fingers inside her bra, which was a little too tight, and fumbled around trying to get her nipple. I found it and pinched it, again feeling that jerk in her body. This time it was mainly in her stomach and thus, that pressed right against my dick which had, of course, got hard. As our bodies had been pressed together during the hardening process, I hadn't been able to fiddle my clothes around that my erection could grow vertically. Hence, it sort of grew with the top of it pointing downwards and thus, what she felt against her was more like a rounded tube than a thrusting cock. I've never quite worked how, when with a bird for the first time, you easily overcome that. It didn't matter, though for Mandy was now away. As I said, she may not have always been that adventurous, but what she lacked in that, she more than made up for in enthusiasm. As I fiddled both her tits out of her bra, she was moaning and groaning and pushing herself harder against me. As I rolled her sweater up and got my mouth on her bare tits, she grabbed my head and ran her fingers through my hair. I had both my arms round her, my hands stroking and squeezing her gorgeous bum so it was quite easy to maneuver her over to the desk. I pushed her against it so that she was almost sitting on the edge, more propped up I guess than sitting. As I did that, I reached down and adjusted myself so that my dick was at attention. I pressed myself hard against her shoving my knee between hers, opening her legs and giving my rampant cock access to her denim covered mound. She again gave that lovely little grunt as my length bisected the front of her lips, pressed against her clit and pushed into the softness of her stomach above her mound. Kissing her hard, squeezing and rubbing her boobs and pinching and pulling her nipples, I crushed my cock against causing her to grunt and moan quite deeply. It was an, almost animalistic sound. For some reason that really turned me on as did, actually, the strong belief that she was going to 'go all the way' and in her fucking office no less, what a result! I started to dry fuck her. I grabbed the cheeks of her arse, crushed my lips onto hers, pushed her head back, shoved my tongue down her throat and started thrusting my cock up and down against her. She was rolling her head from side to side, running her hands up and down my back and through my hair and pushing back almost in time with my thrusts. Still, just about maintaining contact between my cock and her mound, I leaned back and reached down. I had got hold of the blue, pleated leather belt and undid the buckle and the button at the top of her jeans before she realized what I was doing, She reached down and grabbed my hands. "No Kevin." "What do you mean no?" I said rather sternly. I get like that when turned down. "We can't not here?" "Why not?" I said getting hold of the tab on the zip. "It's my office." "So? I bet half the horny fuckers have had it off in here." She didn't take a lot of persuasion, must have been my impeccable logic. That may, I suppose, have been added to by mouth licking one of her nipples and my hand sliding between her legs and rubbing her pussy through the denim. Whatever the reason, it was fantastic to see her wiggle her body as, together, we pushed the tight jeans down over her nicely rounded hips. She was wearing a pair of lemon coloured, bikini style panties. They were tight; they fitted snugly across her mound, and thin, so that the shadow of her pubes could clearly be seen. She looked great so I kissed her again and pressed my, now, full erection hard against those lovely little panties, which I was determined wouldn't stay where they were for long. "Your turn," I heard her saying from where my face was buried in her thick, lustrous hair: God I did, and still do, love her hair. One of the sexual tricks she did indulge me with when we were married, and there weren't that many, was to lie with her head near my waist so that her hair tumbled all over my stomach. She would then run long tresses of it all over my cock, balls and thighs. The silky touch of that on those sensitive places was like the most erotic massage imaginable, But it got better for she would then take a thick strand in her hand, wrap it round my cock and wank me like that, lifting her head at the last moment and letting me cum on her tits. Fantastic. I lifted my head as she said and then felt her hand on my cock through my trousers. I reached down and unzipped and, far more confidently than I would have thought she would be, she slipped her hand inside right onto my cock outside my boxers. I didn't want that, I wanted her to 'press the flesh' as well. In fact I wanted her to first press that flesh and take that bugger inside her. Another View of Amanda Williams Quickly, I shoved my pants and trousers down in one go. You have to strike while the iron is hot and it can't get much hotter with a chick than having your cock in her hand while she has her jeans round her ankles. At such times they like a little bit of romancing, I have learned. Pressing my bare cock harder into her hand as, at the same time I squeezed one of her pert boobs I whispered. "God I've wanted to get you like this from the first time I saw you in double barreled surname's office," I muttered. "Mmmmm," was all she replied, the cool cow. But she didn't demure when I slid my hands into the waist band of her panties, nor did she do anything, but lift her bum from the desk, when I pulled them down. "Fuck" I remember thinking when I saw that her pubes were also chestnut coloured, "I wonder if she dyes them." I went to shove the old boy in her, but she stopped me. "You have to use something, I'm not on the pill," this was pre aids, although herpes was on the radar screen. I struggled into a rubber a bit pissed off, for most of the time I managed to go bareback and much preferred that. Nevertheless, it was a good fuck. Not great, but certainly up there with the better ones. Not that she contributed that much, but then how could she wedged up against a desk like that? It was her quietly passionate response, her moaning, her hands all over my back and in my hair and, of course that we were doing it in such a place that got it an above average rating. Chapter 3 So that's how Mandy and Kevin started. "You dirty rotten, cheating fucking bastard, get out," was how it ended some fourteen years later. And to think at one time 'butter would hardly melt in her mouth'! In between we: got married, had some great times, made a stack of money, got my business going: started a new one in marketing and promotions and had a lovely baby girl. Of course I never stopped seeing and shagging other women, although I think Mandy was probably totally faithful, but then most men think that about their wives don't they? Maybe she strayed or had a fling now and then, but I doubt it, she's not, or wasn't like that. She caught me out three times. Not bad really considering how many times I cheated on her. I never thought she would go the whole hog and kick me out or leave. She threatened it the first time and she left the second time, but both times her need and desire for a 'happy family' life got us back together. I tried hard, in my way, to save the marriage. I didn't want to break it up, I didn't want us to part, to risk the businesses and upset our child. I just wanted to 'have my cake and eat it.' Obviously, each time after she caught me, things got a little sticky for a while. The first time she slept in a separate room and there was no sex for a month, well with her that was, I had loads with a lovely Swedish au pair who worked for a neighbour down the road. The second time she slept in a separate house for a month. Of course it was her fucking parents' house, where else? After a few years, things sexually between us got a bit stale. But then how could they not? She was always quite a good shag, but a man needs variety doesn't he? He needs more than just a good shag. I needed to go further with Mandy. I wanted anal, I wanted to cum in her mouth, I wanted to see her with another woman and watch her being fucked by another guy. I wanted us to go to orgies, try new things, push out the boundaries. Ok she wanked me with her hair and let me cum on her tits, big deal and once or twice let me shag her in rather risky places, but she had no interest in going further. Idealistically in my view, Mandy looked on sex and love as one thing. She wasn't able, as men and nowadays many women as well are, to separate them; she couldn't or wouldn't, just enjoy sex, it had to have such a big bloody reason. Why the hell she couldn't just enjoy a fuck without turning it into some great big emotional event I could never fathom? Intermingled with my now almost serial philandering, a term her solicitor used during the divorce, quite neat I thought, I did get a few results. I'd always enjoyed photography and had taken loads of shots of Mandy in and slightly out of swimsuits and stuff like that. After the first, or maybe the second break up, I started fighting back, started demanding my rights as I saw them; more variety, more adventure, that sort of stuff, yes I wanted to shag my wife's arse and have her swallow my cum. After all, most of the bimbos I fucked, in posh hotels now, not cars, although I had my moments in them, were happy to take it anywhere and swallow whatever I gave them. It didn't occur to me at the time that that may well have been more due to my platinum Amex than my sexual prowess, which I felt was still bloody good for a forty two year old. In fact oddly, and again I didn't realise this until after the divorce, as I got older I felt more attracted to and seemed to have greater success with younger birds. Actually, the one I was having a thing with when Mandy caught me the second, or was it the third, time was slightly younger than Mandy was when I first fucked her. Several times I had persuaded different birds bird to pose for me. Undressing, in their underwear, naked, legs open and playing with themselves were all snapped and saved: this was just before the digital age. Obviously, them posing like that led to us shagging. And bloody hell were they good shags! The posing and me photographing them seemed to add something massive. So after Mandy thawed out a bit, I went on for a while complaining that our sex life had 'gone dull.' She was a real sucker for such sentiments. So, I suggested we try to 'spice it up'. I offered a number of alternatives including, a bit tongue in cheek for I knew she would say no, joining a swinging set, looking for partners to swap with and trying some bondage or a bit of BDSM. In some ways I was pleased she refused the latter for I wasn't actually too sure what it entailed and I felt that I would look like a real prick in a latex posing pouch. Try as I might she wouldn't go for the other suggestions so that when I dropped in her posing for me, she eventually agreed. Clever see, get her to turn me down on actions I knew she wouldn't go for, then get a sympathy vote for the other. She fluffed around a bit pretending she didn't want to, but I knew she did really. They all do, after all, what's wrong with flashing your bits for your husband or lover? It's all private isn't it. By now, Sara was seven or eight. Mandy hadn't been that careful after her birth and she had blown up a bit. She had that typical mumsy little pod on her stomach, which most of the time she hid, by breathing in, wearing tight knickers or loose clothing. The biggest change though, was to her tits. These had ballooned. When we first met, remember the shag in the office, she had really nice little boobs, about thirty three or four B cup. Just the right size. I have to admit that I am not a big tit fan. I like small, well-shaped tits, not fucking great mammories. And by the time of the photography, when Mandy was thirty five that is exactly what she had. Bloody great big tits. They put me off a bit, and may well have been one of the reasons why my straying became even more frequent and enthusiasm. I felt that I had to have sex with tits of my preferred size and that meant women other than Mandy and generally younger women. Anyway, back to the snapping. When Mandy eventually gave in and started letting me photograph her, I have to say it really went well. Not only did she, after a slow and shy start, take to it like a duck to water, but also I got to quite like her big tits and we had some fantastic sex. Being absolutely truthful, I had assumed that she would probably go no further than total nude. I was amazed, therefore, when on our third or fourth session we went much further. Mandy was just wearing black, fishnet stockings and a black suspender belt I had bought her; she looked great. We'd been shooting for twenty minutes or so and I had gradually got her to strip out of the mini dress, slip out of her bra, play with her tits a bit and then remove her panties. She was lying on the floor and I was standing over her shooting downwards. "Do what feels right, Mands, just go for it." "Fantastic, that's great." "Fuck me you look amazing, those tits look great." These were the sort of remarks I made to her. I made them to her, because they had worked when I had made them to several other women I'd had in similar situations. Although her body looked fantastic through the viewfinder, I think it was the smouldering look in her eyes that did most to give me such a hard on. As I had with Mandy and the other girls, I could feel that we were moving towards the time when we would fuck. There comes a time during a shooting session where that becomes not only inevitable, but also absolutely essential. And that often, usually probably, comes when the bird has stripped off and I've snapped her in all her glory. It had the previous times with my wife and I had no reason to believe it would not be the case this time. Wrong! This time, as she lay before me naked on her back, her legs crossed, but doing exactly what I asked "Squeeze your tits Mands" she took things into her own hands, other than her tits that is. Her gaze was burning into mine through the lens of the camera, there was a small smile on her face, her lips were slightly parted, her tongue was out a little on her upper lip and her eyes were partly closed. She rolled those half lovely and half gross mounds of flesh around and she pinched her nipples into even greater hardness. I couldn't stop myself from rubbing my erection through my trousers. Maybe that prompted her, but I doubt it, I think it was completely involuntary. As my eyes and the lens visually fucked her, so Mandy slowly raised her knees up. As I watched and the camera recorded every movement so she, just as slowly, then opened them, wide. I could hardly fucking-well believe it. I was staring at her pussy; I was snapping away like mad, yes, I was photographing her cunt. Photographing my wife's cunt, a cunt I had fucked so many times, one I didn't want that much recently, but one that as I looked through the lens I wanted so much. With one hand I kept on shooting, probably messing up the focus, and with the other I undid my belt and zip. I struggled my trousers and pants down and watched amazed as Mandy took things further. She slipped her hand down and I watched and shot fascinated as I saw her brown finger nail pressing down between the folds of her pussy, She found her clit and I photographed her body jerking, her eyes closing, mouth opening and her head falling back. She raised her arse off the ground and really started to frig herself. I could photograph no more. I put the camera down, tore my shirt off and, unglamorously forgetting to take my socks, I got between her legs and fucked he. It was as good a shag as we had ever had. That sort of thing happened a few more times. Mandy seemed to become a different person in front of the camera. A freer, more relaxed and confident person. She became wilder, more open and, wonderfully, dirtier. I guess there was an exhibitionist tendency in her that the photographing released. Whatever the psychological reason behind it, I loved snapping her open-legged, her cunt dripping with her juices, her fingers fiddling in her pussy folds, her masturbating with both her fingers and, later, with a couple of vibs, a wicked looking black one and wild pink latex job. Chapter 4 I suppose the photographing went on for a few months and, for a time, it really did give a boost to our sex life. I even went home a few times to shoot my wife and then have that extraordinarily successful sex with her, rather than fuck a young tart with who I was having a fling. Regrettably, it all ended when she caught me for the second time. This time she moved out and it took all my charm, guile, persuasion powers and, I have to admit, slight threats as well to get her back. After she and Sara returned to the family home, it was like a fucking igloo. The atmosphere was so cold and Mandy went frigid. She wouldn't let me near her and we had no sex at all for the first month or so. Of course I was getting it elsewhere, but that's not the point is it, a man should be able to shag his wife when he wants shouldn't he? It took me ages to get things back to something like normality, but in reality I guess I never did, really. Trying, though, showed the right bastard side of my character, even though, at the time, I thought of it as my 'desperation' at trying to save my marriage. As you'll have gathered, I do tend to kid myself a bit. Mandy was obsessed with the 'happy family and love lasts for ever' line of thought. She was convinced that she loved me and that we were meant to be together for all time. The idea of breaking up full time scared the shit out of her: I never really quite understood why, something to do more with Sara than us. Of course, though, I played on that. After I 'got my feet back under the table' or, in other words we started having limited and rather infrequent sex again, I started playing hardball. Slowly, as I tried to get her to let herself go and become more adventurous with sex, I started implying that if she didn't then I would leave her, for good. This was, actually, a bit rich considering I had pleaded for her to return, but then I have always 'wanted my cake and eat it.' My intentions, though, were not that straightforward. I had, sort of tried, giving up my bits on the side, but failed every time. Fucking other birds was like a disease to me, certainly it was an addiction. I tried to explain this to her, but of course she couldn't, or wouldn't understand. What I was after was for us to have an open marriage. Well not totally open, I didn't want her, going off shagging other blokes without my knowledge, but I wanted to be able to go and fuck who I wanted, when I wanted, cakes and eating, see? I explained it rather differently to that to Mandy, but of course with her prudish outlook and stuffy upbringing, she wouldn't even consider it. Not even when I promised faithfully that if she agreed to us finding some swinging partners, then I would give up bits on the side. It was a bit of a daft promise for I had already vowed that and as far as she knew, I was being faithful. See how complicated it is being a serial philanderer? I changed tack when I saw that wasn't working and looked to have little chance, I never believe in 'flogging dead horses'! We had started having sex again. Nothing special, nothing adventurous. No swallowing and no anal, just the normal, although we did find a good use for her big tits, for a while. But then later, as the marriage more and more broke down, she even screwed up that titty fucking. By losing so much fucking weight they were no longer any good for that. The real irony, though, was that as the pounds seemed simply to fall off her as the worry got to her, so her tits went back to the delicious, little buds they had been and I fancied her more. Odd sod aren't I? In one of those post sex, post orgasm heart to hearts that new lovers have, Mandy had admitted that at uni she had had some girl on girl stuff. She'd told me that ages ago, even before we married. That had of course got me really going. I just adore lesbian stuff and the idea of seeing Mandy shagging, or being shagged by, another girl I found amazing. Ever since then I had tried to get her to have a threesome with me and another girl or, at least, let me watch her and another woman. But of course she never had, up until I essentially said unless she did then I was off, for good. There was this girl, Jenny, who was a regular in the pub in the village where we lived at the time. She was an actress. Not very successful and she did a variety of other jobs ranging from promotions, voice-overs, role plays and, of course secretarial to make ends meet. She was slim and attractive with long blonde hair and pert little tits. Although a little outside my usual target age range, I had, of course, tried it on with her a few times when I was in the pub without Mandy. She turned me down, quoting knowing Mandy as the reason. Fair dos and nice to know some people are loyal. I did think, though, if I had really pushed she would have gone for it. Anyway she was very outgoing, rather mouthy and bit flash. She liked being one of the boys and the centre of attention, which she gained and held in the pub with her stories of her sexual exploits, including a couple of references to female casting directors, to get and keep jobs. We had periods when we would go to the pub a couple of evenings a week and then times when we wouldn't go at all for ages. As coincidence would have it during one of our pub visiting times, Jenny was also using the place regularly. The three of us got quite friendly. That's when I really piled on the pressure with Mandy. We'd just had quite good sex. I opened up the topic of her going with another woman with me there. She refused. "Look you did it at uni, why not now?" "That's all behind me, I was just a kid." "You were eighteen, you knew what you were doing." It went along those lines, the same sort of thing for several nights, with her offering a range of different reasons. They were, though, I began to notice more now to do with the practicalities and not the morals of the issue. "I don't go around fancying other women, it's not like that." "I wouldn't know what to do." "I wouldn't know how to pull a woman." Were some of her latest excuses. Then the opening. "Anyway, I don't know anyone who would." "So would you if you did?" I asked quickly. "Just her and me with you watching? "Yes." "I really don't know. We're not the same as men; we can't just turn it on and have sex with anyone." "I realize that, but if it was someone attractive who you liked, would you then, for me, for our marriage?" I rather slimily asked. She didn't completely reject that, so I took it as a yes. Ok so that was Mandy fixed; now I had to find the other bird. Guess who was in the frame? I racked my brain to think of a way to broach the subject with Jenny. I couldn't so I asked around about her. I had some pals in show biz. In the end I chose to be straightforward, an unusual choice for me. I stopped by the pub a couple of times on my way home before I found Jen there. I bought her and the other couple of regulars a drink. I got her to one side, sitting across from each other over a table. We chatted about this and that before I got down to business. "So how's the love life, Jen?" "So so, your's" "About the same, you know old married couples." "I can imagine." "Can you?" I asked looking her right in her eye. "I think so, yes." "What then?" "You both get a little fed up, it all becomes a bit samey and one of you strays, didn't you Kev?" I laughed. "How did you know?" "Like most of the village, I guess." We both laughed when she went on. "And of course you did invite me to stray with you, remember?" But we didn't pursue it any further. "Yes it does become samey and we both look for something to spice it up a bit, you know what I mean?" "Sure." "Interested?" I asked. "What do you mean?" "I mean would you be interested?" "In what?" Jenny asked seemingly a little shocked. "In helping us spice it up." "How?" "Well Mandy has always liked you." "Huh?" "Look let's get our cards on the table." "Ok?" "Mandy has been with other girls as I guess you have, right?" As cool as cucumber Jenny took a sip of her red wine. "Sure." "And like many men I have always wanted to see her with another woman." Another View of Amanda Williams She just looked at me. That flustered me a bit. "And I was wondering." "Go on." "How about you and her together." "I see, and why should I?" "Five hundred enough to say, why you should?" I asked playing the trump card my mate had given me about Jenny doing a bit of escort stuff on the side. The commerce out of the way, everyone has a price I think, we got down to details. Despite her occasional status as an escort, Jenny was quite strongly principled in other ways, fucking actors! "Just with her, not you, unless she says so categorically." "Ok that's fine, I just want to watch." "Really?" "Yep." "What don't fancy me?" "I didn't mean it like that." We both laughed. "And no telling her it's paid for," she said. "Fuck no, that's the last thing." I really turned it on for Mandy that night. Loads and loads of foreplay, ages licking her big, fat tits and sucking her nipples, slow languid kisses all over her body, soft, gentle caresses up and down her legs and all over her bum. Turning her and laying her on her front, I licked the backs of her thighs and all over the cheeks of her bum. Eventually I pulled her legs apart and made her cum by licking between her cheeks and pushing the tip of my tongue right up her bum hole. Not only did I try really hard to arouse, excite and satisfy her, I was also gentle, loving and caring to the point that after I eventually fucked her, I held her in my arms for ages as my cock softened, something I rarely did with any bird, let alone my wife. It was then that I dropped in my little idea. "I think I know someone." "What?" Mandy replied dreamily. "A woman." Giggling, obviously happy, she said in a dreamy voice. "We know that and it's one of your problems Kevin." "How do you mean?" As she gave my softening cock a playful smack she giggled. "You know too many women." I laughed back and said, "But I am with you Mands." "Just about," she replied pointedly, but leaving her fingers resting on my stomach the tips in my bush of pubes. "I meant a woman for you." "For me?" "Yes to make love with as I watch," I said getting excited, "Oh, that." "Yes Mands that." "I didn't say that I would." "True, but you said you might with the right girl." "And I suppose you have found her have you?" "As a matter of fact I think I have." A bit cruelly, certainly unnecessarily, but really also letting her guard down, Mandy said. "Not one of your floosies, I hope." "No Mands," I said softly cupping her boob and squeezing it gently. "Who is it then?" "Jenny, Jenny from the pub." Mandy's fingers so near to my cock, the thought of her and Jenny, the talk about it and, to an extent, caressing her tit was getting me hard. So we fucked again. Over the next couple of days I mentioned Jenny a few times, but really got no further. In bed one night, I turned up the heat about it. I told her that: I was fed up with having a boring sex life, she hadn't got any adventure in her, I needed more than just a straightforward fuck, she had said she would go with another woman and that I was tired of the same old thing time and time again. She obviously threw a wobbly and started having a go back, quietly, because Sara was in the house. I tore into her telling her she didn't know how to satisfy a man and that it was her fault I had gone astray. As I hoped, she started crying, so I turned the screw tighter. "And if you don't fuckingwell change and get a bit more life in you, I'll go and find someone that will." She agreed to talk to Jenny with me! I of course I didn't let her know that I had already arranged it, so when the three of us chatted in the pub it all seemed spontaneous. It was surprisingly easy. We agreed to meet at the pub for lunch on Sunday and then walk to our house, a quarter mile or so away. Chapter 5 Jenny looked absolutely fucking amazing. She had a ridiculously short black skirt on with no tights. Her legs were tanned and, as my mum used to say, they went right up to her bum; they were the longest I had ever seen. She had trained as a dancer and she certainly had dancer's legs, slim, lithe and shapely, they were the sort that would look fabulous round anyone's back or neck, hopefully Mandy's later on. She was wearing a simple. White button up blouse and high heeled sandals: I could see that Mandy was drinking more than she usually did and I slowed her down, for I didn't want her to get drunk, just loosen her inhibitions! At the house, after a quick drink, I showed Jen round with Mandy, leaving our bedroom until the end. When we went in there, I shut the door behind me and, very pointedly, drew the curtains and lit just one small lamp in the corner of the room. The lighting was dim and moody. We were all set. In the pub when we had arranged it, Jenny had played up to Mandy. They had sort of flirted, and had agreed that they would 'put on the show' for me, though, as Jenny said very pointedly. "Just Amanda and me, not you." They stood in the middle of the large room, quite near to the bed just looking at each other. I went and sat in a chair in the corner of the room, just out of their lines of sight, but with a great view of them and the bed. I took my shirt and trousers off. I then spent what was arguably the most erotic two hours of my life, and didn't even get a shag. Jenny led the way, of course. She kissed Mandy on the lips; she put her arms round her and pulled her tightly against her. She undid the zip of Mandy's dress, slipped it off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She said something about Mandy's lovely underwear, but I lost focus on that when she undid her blouse and slipped that and her skirt off almost in one movement. They were before me holding and kissing each other clad just in their underwear. Mandy's chestnut contrasted sharply with Jen's long, blonde tresses that fell well down beneath her shoulders. Their mouths were busy, their lips were grinding, their mouths were open and their tongues were probing. And it wasn't all Jen, though she was leading the way. Jenny undid Mandy's bra and dropped it on the floor. She stood away from my wife and ran her gaze up and down her, slightly, rotund and voluptuous body. "Oh Amanda," she whispered as she ran her fingertips across Mandy's tits. "You have wonderful breasts." Mandy simply said. "Thank you Jen," as the blonde cupped both boobs and lifted them up, as if weighing them. Her eyes burning into Mandy's, Jenny removed her own bra. She had fabulous tits. Small, but beautifully shaped, there was no sagging whatsoever and they were capped with deep pink, ferociously hard nipples that were the size of raspberries. They were so fucking suckable, I don't know how I restrained myself from going over to her, instead I got my dick out: it was awesomely hard. Seeing Jenny's little boobs squashing against Mandy's big, soft lumps was fantastic. It was almost as if Mandy's tits devoured Jenny's. I heard Mandy gasp as she felt Jen's nipples against hers. Jenny pushed her stomach against hers and squirmed a little so that the two pubic mounds rubbed on each other. At the same time, the blonde's hands ran up and down Mandy's back, stroking and caressing, further and further downwards until they eventually slid inside the panties and gripped the soft, full flesh of her bum cheeks. Kissing Mandy, Jenny pulled her harder against her so that their bodies were touching from lips to toes. It was if I was not there. They seemed to get so into each other that they forgot me. That was half great, like being a voyeur, and half awful, for I so wanted to fuck them, well not them really, more Jenny, well just get involved. I knew, though that I couldn't, so I had to contend with stroking my cock. They got on the bed, on their sides, their faces close, their tits nearly touching. They kissed, long and deep. They, yes they, not just fucking Jenny, but my wife as well, ran their hands up and down the others body. Jenny was again at Mandy's tits, she was muttering how luscious they were as she played with them. Just about audible I heard her say. "Touch my breasts, Mandy, you know you want to." Jenny held Mandy's wrist and lifted her hand up to her boobs. It was truly an amazing scene to see my wife doing what I would so liked to have done, play with Jenny's tits. That touch of Mandy's hands on Jenny's tits was like an induction. Up to then, everything Mandy had done was tentative and directed by Jenny. Suddenly, though, it all seemed to change. Not dramatically and not overly significantly, but enough for me to notice and for my cock, if anything, to get even harder. Mandy was now giving as good as she got. And that really is how the next couple of hours continued. She was as active with her hands on Jenny's lovely, little tits as Jen was on her big udders. After Jenny bent forward and licked, sucked and chewed Mandy's tits and nipples, I watched amazed as my wife's mouth opened and sucked the blonde's 'raspberries' into her mouth. I had imagined them kissing and touching, squeezing tits and even fingering each other, but for some daft reason I hadn't though of Mandy sucking Jen's tits. But, by Christ was it a wow. It got even better though. After they broke a kiss they lay there, their faces pressed together, they were whispering something that I couldn't catch, they giggled, like two schoolgirls. Then wonderfully, almost in unison as if rehearsed, they lifted their bums up and slid their knickers off. They were both gloriously nude. Everything went quiet and still. It was as if they had reached a special stage, a seminal moment. They pressed their naked bodies together and lay like that for some time, not kissing, simply looking into each others eyes and slowly moving their bodies against the other. It was magic. Then Jenny's hand started sliding down Mandy's body. Then Jenny pushed Mandy so that she was on her back. Then Jenny's fingers flittered over Mandy's waist. Then Jenny's fingers ran over Mandy's tummy. Then Jenny rubbed them on Mandy's pubis. And then Mandy opened her legs. Was that fucking amazing or what? And then of course Jenny finger fucked my wife and made Mandy cum. Oddly, after all the persuasion and coercion, I felt a little cheated; I felt pissed off at how easily Jenny had made my wife cum and how strong was Mandy's orgasm. Chapter 6 Of course it couldn't last. We had grown apart. Well not grown apart in some things, for in most aspects of life we got on well. It was that we were both at opposite ends of the sexual spectrum that was the core issue. I had always been a randy sod; I had never been particularly well principled or adhered to any moral standards with regard to sex: you may have gathered that from reading this so far. And of course I wanted variety, I wanted more than one woman and I wanted, no needed I think, different sex, and you know what that is. Mandy, was completely the opposite. Moral, standards, one woman man, straight sex and all that. So a final break up was inevitable. It came about a year after the Jenny afternoon. I moved out assuming we would get back together after a reasonable period, but this time I was wrong. Mandy showed more resolve than I had ever imagined she would and she amazed me by completely sticking to her guns and filing for divorce. As far as such events can be, our divorce was well-organised, quick, sensible and reasonably amicable. Of course, once 'the shackle' of marriage was removed I went fucking bananas with the birds. For a while, it was great. But with the totally screwed up standards and needs I have, once I didn't need to lie and cheat and could have birds whenever and wherever I wanted, it lost its appeal. I began to miss married life. The arrangements we had made about Sara worked fine and I had plenty of access to her, but still I missed her. Unfortunately, Mandy didn't run true to form or as I expected. She didn't weaken one bit. I spent loads of time thinking about that and formed a theory. Mandy was obviously bi. Her experiences at uni. and that fantastic afternoon with Jenny showed that. After I left, I heard a few rumours about her. Despite her being almost my age, I had been shagging one of our neighbours on and off for a few years. She was slim, posh, elegant, lived just down the road, had a dick of a husband, in oil I think, who travelled a lot, was very available and fucked like a rattlesnake. On top of all that, she was so convenient that I could pop in for a quick fuck on my way home and sometimes way to, work. Very useful. Oh she was also bi. A couple of months after I had left the house, or in reality had been kicked out, I was quite surprised when Mandy, through her lawyer, suggested she take the flat in Docklands and I could return to the house. Actually, it was bit lonely in a six-bed roomed house by myself so I was pleased that Toni, the oilman's wife, was just down the road. I pretty quickly got the fling with her going again and was soon popping in for both quickies and now and then longer, even overnights, which I don't really like, you get too close don't you, actually sleeping all night with a bird? Whilst she never completely confirmed it, she hinted, several times that something had gone on between her and Mandy after she had kicked me out. As well as that, there was a female tennis coach at the club Mandy and I belonged to who, it was hinted, had had a fling with my ex. These hints and rumours, of course, made me think back to that amazing afternoon with Jenny. Mandy had taken ages to go with the idea, but once she had and was with Jenny, her enthusiasm for sex with another woman was far, far higher than I would ever have imagined. Jenny did lead their sex at first, but I remember being both amazed, surprised and a little hurt at how quickly my wife had become a very equal party in it. I recalled: them both taking their panties off at the same time: not Jenny removing Mandy's, but Mandy removing her own; Mandy lying on top of Jenny between her opened legs supporting herself with her straightened arms, rubbing her chestnut coloured pubic mound against the blonde of Jenny; them lying 'head to toe' their faces level with the other's pussy and Mandy giving every bit as good oral as she was getting from the other woman and both of them looking at me with total and utter disdain as my cock exploded and I shot spunk all over the place; they simply looked away and kissed deeply. So, in my mind at least, what was happening was that Mandy's bi side was starting to dominate her hetero side. Don't get me wrong, I didn't think she was becoming a lesbian, just that she temporarily preferred women. After the divorce became final, Mands and I started seeing each other more frequently; mainly school and family things. We had only met once during the year we waited for the divorce, so it was nice to see her. She was slimmer, with her tits back to around a small C or large B, very nice indeed, and of course she still had that wild mane of fantastic chestnut coloured hair. Almost whenever I saw that, I imagined it wrapped around my cock with her wanking me. She was cold and distant the first few times we met. Fair dos really, after all I had fucked up her life a bit hadn't I? She thawed a little after a few months, even offering me a drink when I dropped Sara off. When I come into any sort of contact with a reasonable looking bird, I always want to shag them, that's natural isn't it? And now I was seeing Mandy regularly I wanted her, and I wanted her fucking badly. I didn't push it though, well not for a while. I got us to the position where we could talk, not chat, but really talk. Mainly about Sara and her schooling and future, but also about us. Not us a couple, but us as two individuals. I found out that during the first year or so after the divorce, she had dated a number of guys. By dated I assumed fucked. I didn't tell her that I must have 'dated' at least fifty in that year! "No Kevin, none were, or are serious." She said a few weeks later when we were waiting for Sara to leave on a coach on a school trip. Chapter 7 I had picked them up from the flat and taken them to the school to wave our twelve year old daughter off on her first ever trip away from home. On the way back to the flat she asked if I had anyone and I told her hadn't, which surprisingly was true for I wasn't seeing anyone. "No Kevin, don't," she said when I came up behind her and placed my hands on her hips in the kitchen of the flat. I stopped but couldn't resist running one hand across her bum and another through her hair. Her sharp intake of breath was nice. I took it as a sound of excitement, it could, of course, have been one of distaste: players like me don't think that way though. It was a start. The next time we were alone, I slipped my arm round her waist. The time after that I pecked her on the cheek as I said goodnight. And then I kissed her. It felt as if I was fucking Michelle Pfeiffer or someone as famous and as beautiful. Just a kiss, a closed lip one at that, yet I got an instant hard on and felt fantastic. True, she quickly pushed me off saying. "No, no we mustn't," but I had kissed her. As I drove home I got my dick out and wanked. Over a fucking kiss for Christ's sake! That became almost her mantra over the next couple of months We musn't though, very encouragingly, became, we shouldn't. Lovely, the door was opening, would the legs follow? I was now inventing reasons to see her and, amazingly, she was going along with them She broke away, but not until she had responded with her tongue as I pushed mine past her opened lips, whilst we sat in my car waiting for Sara. "No don't, please stop," she said pushing my arm away so that my hand was removed from her breast, which I had briefly cupped, a week later, also in my car. "Oh Kevin, what are we doing?" She moaned, two or three weeks later as she writhed her stomach against my hard on in her mum and dad's garden at Sara's thirteenth birthday party. "No, no, please, please," she groaned as we stood in her kitchen. We had brought Sara home and she had popped out to a friend's house. "I'll be about an hour; will you still be here dad?" "Not sure, love, you'd better ask your mother." I waited with bated breath as Sara pondered; she knew as well as I did what was bound to happen. After what seemed an age Mandy said. "Yes he'll still be here, I expect." She let me kiss her, there was hardly any resistance. She let me prise her lips open with my tongue. She let me shove it deep into her mouth and she squirmed her tongue against mine. She let me grind my totally hard cock against her mound and stomach. It was after she had let me squeeze her breast outside the thin sweater and I had slid my hand inside it cupping her boob that she said, her mantra. "No, no please, please. We shouldn't" Despite saying that, she let me continue squeezing it, she let me rub it and pinch her nipple through her bra and then she let me slip my fingers inside her bra and play with her bare breasts and nipples. I then thought she would let me fuck her, so I rolled the sweater up and looked for the first time in years at my ex wife's bare tits. Two things happened. She stopped it right there and I saw her bra. It was totally see through, was made from the most delicate of lace and was cut across her tits so that her nipple was almost bare. It was the sexiest bra I had ever seen and why the fuck was she wearing it, I wondered? It was kids stuff really. The sort of things that inexperienced couples do. Teenage petting. But that's exactly what my ex wife and I then started doing and what we do now. Another View of Amanda Williams We moved one hesitant step forward at a time. It was a game, it had rules, rules that we made up as we went along. Nothing could be taken for granted and progress was slow, painfully so, but so exciting. Each time I saw her I would tingle with expectancy and most days I didn't see her I would have a wank about her. Not about fucking her, funnily enough, but about what the next stages would be. As the weeks went by, I found out. I had caressed her bare tits when I had lifted them out of that sexy bra, but it took a couple more 'sessions' until she let me take it off and then a couple more before she let me suck them. Not without some token resistance though. That seemed to be 'the game', Mandy needed to show some resistance. I couldn't believe how exciting it was, however, when she didn't stop my hand going up her skirt, when she didn't stop me touching her panties, when she let me slip my fingers between her legs and rub her through the material. I desperately wanted to get inside those panties, but I made her cum too quickly. The next time, though, I did get inside them, with my fingers that is. And not just inside them, but also inside her. It seemed amazing to me that I could get such excitement and sexual pleasure from fingering my ex wife to an orgasm on the back seat of my car, yes she had started agreeing to 'climbing into the back.' So that's where we are now. That's where that fuck up against a desk in an ad agency has led to. We have refined it a little, because, unlike during our marriage, we have talked about it. Neither of us wants to go back and neither wants anyone to know, we have firmly agreed that. Oddly, and I have to say it is more her choice than mine, we don't fuck. We also don't do anything in our own homes, just in our cars and, occasionally outdoors. A typical 'date' would be as follows. We both drive to a car park and, usually, Mandy gets into my Rangerover Sport. I drive into the country to one of several places we have found that are isolated, but with good views to see any approaching cars or people. We get in the back and I lock the doors. Since we started talking about it and planning things, she almost certainly will have her bra in her bag and sometimes her panties as well, occasionally she might not even have them in her bag! I can hardly believe how much more adventurous she has become since we parted, makes me wonder how many other blokes she has done such things with. I always have a couple of blankets and a long coat on the back seat, just in case, and she will generally wear a dress, usually a baggy one that is as easy to get back on as it is to take off. Once in the back we will usually kiss, although she doesn't like that too much. "You kiss people you feel affection for," is her rational, and that categorises me neatly, doesn't it? Then I will take her dress off and ooh and ah at her braless tits, her nice thong or her total nudity. Then I will make her cum. We do everything but fuck. I play with her tits, I suck them and chew her nipples as I slide my hands all over her, again I'm afraid, rather voluptuous body and big DD tits, which I don't find as distasteful as I used to. She will then generally unzip me and get the old chap out. I don't usually undress, but sometimes she will insist and we will be in the back of the car naked. That is fucking exciting I can tell you. Usually, she gives me a hand job to finish, but most times now, she will suck me for a while before that. Still no cumming in her mouth or swallowing though! Where will this lead? Who knows? Will we get back together? I doubt it. I don't think she would have me and I don't think I could ever again even consider tying myself to one woman. What about Sara? She doesn't know a thing about it. I have a few bits of stuff I see on a semi-regular basis and am always on the look out for 'new recruits.' Mandy, on the other hand, or so she tells me and I have no reason to doubt it, doesn't date and is, and has been for several months, celibate. Her only sexual relief is me and her hands and her vib. So I guess there is just one answered question. Will we fuck?