19 comments/ 119289 views/ 26 favorites Tried It. Liked It! By: Quin One night a few years ago I took my wife to the pub. She wore a new skirt that at first she refused to put on saying she had made a mistake, as it was far too short and tight. It was thin, summer wear, made of cotton and clingy that at the time was fashionable. I persuaded her to keep it on which wasn't easy because she was by nature quite shy and introverted. Convincing her that she wasn't showing any more leg than most other women I told her that she looked great and said not to worry about it. We had been in the pub an hour when I noticed she was getting lots of attention from several men at the bar and a group of lads; then I realised that as they could see across the room, and as Carol was sat more or less between tables, that they could see right up between her legs, her skirt having clung to her thighs and ridden right up. She seemed unaware as we were talking to friends so I never mentioned it but instead went to get fresh drinks and looked for myself. I felt excited immediately because her knickers were clearly on view to all. It wasn't only that though that got me in a flutter. Carol is not very tall or big boned but she has quite big well-rounded firm tits. With her pants and plenty of panty-clad thighs showing her white tight top completed the outfit making her look really like a sexy slut. I got the round of drinks and went back to my seat struggling to keep my mind on the conversation. Another hour later I glanced round at my wife and caught her lifting her head and actually smiling at the men who were ogling her; she knew very well what was interesting them. If I had any doubts they were immediately dispelled when I saw her smile toward them again then at the same time she peered down to see how much she was showing and purposely let her leg sway and left her knees apart more than they had been before. She wriggled her hips to get comfortable giving her the chance to turn full on to the group of men giving them a better view, then she actually looked down and checked what she was flashing before lifting her head, looking straight at them and giving a wicked grin! When we got home she thought I was in a funny mood and went off to bed before me. I thought about what I had witnessed and it had an effect on me; I took out my cock and picturing in my head the view the men must have seen I began to masturbate, closing my eyes. Carol came downstairs and walked in on me. "Why are you doing that down here? Why haven't you come to bed?" "I saw what you did," I told her, "In the pub! I saw you let your skirt ride up to show your knickers to the men at the bar." "I told you it was too short!" she argued, "It was bound to ride up." "I saw you doing it on purpose – I saw you smile at them then show them more!" I spoke very calmly and wasn't angry. She was nervous and embarrassed not to mention surprised at being caught out like that; but she didn't deny any of it. "That doesn't tell me why you're doing that down here," she said sheepishly. I was honest with her too, "It made me feel excited watching you do it – it's turned me on – a lot!" "Oh my god!" she said breathlessly and now she was even more sheepish and embarrassed. "I don't know why I did it!" "Sit on the chair!" I said pointing opposite to my seat. "Pull your skirt up – just like it was in the pub!" She reluctantly hitched up her skirt but kept her knees together. "Show me how you opened your legs – show me exactly what you did for the men at the bar." Carol covered her face but let one hand rest on the hem of her skirt. She moved her bottom and let her knees part at the same time she slowly pulled her tight skirt up her thighs, until it gave her even more movement and freedom to let her leg swing wider showing all of the gusset of her panties. I hadn't been aware that she had gone so far and actually used her hand to make it ride up more than was accidental. "Come here!" I demanded, still pulling my cock. She came and sat next to me not looking me in the eye. "Did the men see you helping it along with your hands?" She nodded. "Would they have known it was especially for them?" "Yes," she said, "I suppose I made it pretty obvious." "Did it turn you on – when you were doing it?" She bit her nails and confessed in a very low hiss that yes it did! I grabbed her and the rest is history; we fucked most of the night – and talked about it constantly reliving it over and over again! In the cold light of day Carol said she expected me to me mad one I had given it some thought. When asked she still admitted her behaviour had been exciting and made her feel sexually aroused. She said she'd probably want to do it again if she got the chance to. It gave her a tremendous thrill and it prompted me to suggest that she find other opportunities to show off. When asked how I said she could go through the whole clichéd routine. She could answer the door when the milkman called – in her sexy see-through nightdress. Then there was the postman or the window cleaner! I mentioned that she could be the archetypal sexy housewife who bent over for the builders! Calmly she told me that we weren't expecting any builders and those housewives usually finished up having full sex with as many men as were working in the house! "Would you be tempted to bend over in a short skirt if we had builders in the house though?" I asked. She had already outlined what she honestly believed was the possible result of any housewife daring to do such a thing so I waited for her answer with baited breath. "Yeah, I expect that now I've experienced what a thrill it can be, then I most likely would let myself be tempted." "Let them touch you?" "I don't know; if it made me feel sexy enough I might stray a little and let them kiss me, and, well, you know, have a feel. I just don't know – it would have to happen! I think I'd find it sexy just to sit with them and talk to them letting them see more than they ought. I'd be happy to let them look at me – see my panties – or see me partly undressed." Carol seemed to be in conflict with her own emotions and full of angst. To me it was powerful stuff. "Let me ask you a question now," she said. "Would you not get angry if I did it again – were you turned on because of the initial shock and novelty of the situation? What if I actually did begin to do it on a regular basis – told you I liked doing so much I didn't want to stop, what then? Think about it – what if I admitted that I get so very aroused showing myself off in front of other men – sexually aroused?" "So do you?" I asked in return, "It's not simply for fun or to wind-up men and get them flustered for amusement – it actually turns you on?" Carol nodded right away and told me; the thought of doing it again in various ways and in different situations was exciting, because of the possible danger, the sheer naughtiness of showing herself off, though she startled me with her insight and honesty when she added that rather than let it appear to be accidental, part of the thrill would come from letting the watchers know, maybe discreetly and subtly that she was doing it intentionally – letting them know she was doing it to give them a thrill – and she added coyly, an erection. She would be doing it especially for them! She was blowing my mind and she created enough stimulating mental images to provide wanking material that would last an age! "Of course," she said, snapping out of her erotic suppositions, "I haven't done anything yet!" She paused and changed the tone of her voice to one enquiring but hopeful. "So what would you think – would it bother you if I say I'd like to see what it all feels like – to dress differently – to try and attract men – and if I get the chance, exhibit myself to them?" "Wouldn't you still do it anyway; isn't that what wives who are that way inclined usually do?" "Yes, I suppose so – but in my case it means altering my whole style, those other women you talk about usually already dress accordingly, sexily. I'll still feel shy and nervous; I'm not used to wearing short skirts and things. Last night I was dreading going into the pub wearing that skirt and I felt really uncomfortable – it just wasn't me! But my goodness, what an effect it had when I saw that the men weren't looking at me in a critical way but with lust in their eyes. When I thought that, well, they might be wondering what it would be like to see more, or touch me, well, it made me feel weird and it aroused me in a way I've never felt before. Does that sound silly?" I breathed a long "Noooo!" and kissed her – I had to go somewhere! She pursued her new interest though for a while she was no different than lots of other women who displayed lots of leg or cleavage; really it was simply that just her style of clothing had changed and become more fashionable and a little sexier. One memorable incident from those early times was when we went to a fancy dress party. The theme was "Vicar's and Tarts" and Carol wore a short split skirt that showed her knickers off without her having to bend over and her tits were almost spilling out of her top. Her fishnet stockings were ripped and her suspenders hung down too low. Amazingly there was nothing thrilling about it all! Carol toward the end of the party looked disappointed and I wondered whether she thought the same as I. "Nothing sexy about it is there?" I said in a quiet moment. She agreed and we both admitted we had hoped to experience a certain kind of enjoyment – just like we had in the pub those few weeks ago. We both knew why there was no turn on. "It's because everyone else looks the same – dressed like sluts – that's expected - the way it's supposed to be at this kind of party! By the same token Carol had pointed out one day when we talked, she would not get a kick from being on the beach and wearing a tiny bikini, or even by being in front of men topless – that would be normal for a beach. It's a psychological thing, a state of mind – there would be no naughty, wicked element involved. Feeling a bit flat we went off to a mate's house with a small group who were going to have the last few drinks as an end to the evening. I noticed now that Carol seemed to be in different mood though, as is her nature was quietly but happily listening rather than being extrovert and participating to the rowdiness. From the side of my eye I saw her knees slip apart and my heart jumped when I realised that one of my pal's kept staring at her legs. I had a 'wow' moment when I figured she had noted his interest and was letting him see more. For a while this went on then the group began to disperse as people left. Normally I would have called it a night and Carol would have been glad to get home but this night I wanted to linger and watch what happened. Before long she was the only female left in the house and with six guys I noticed that at least one other had also taken an interest because I think he had noticed how preoccupied the first guy was. Pretending nothing was amiss I calmly talked and laughed joining in the conversation but keeping a close eye on my wife. Then the real thrill came. I saw her rapidly glance from one ogling guy to the other and knew she had become aroused knowing more than one lad was lusting over her. She shuffled, using it as an excuse to leave her legs open then let her hand rest on her inner thigh; then she slowly lifted her head to look straight at the guy who had first ogled her. I saw the astonishment on his face as momentarily he attempted to avert his gaze then realised that the expression on her face was something very different than indignation. My pal looked back at her and I distinctly saw her give him a little wicked smile while she kept her eyes locked on him. As the other occupants in the room chatted away apparently unaware what was happening (which I hoped would, to my wife and those two pal's who were enjoying this erotic experience, include me) I saw my friend feel compelled to let his attention move from looking at Carol's sexily smiling face to look between her legs, drawn there by the movement of her hand on her upper thigh. It was an incredible new sexually exciting experience to watch my wife gently rub the inside of her leg and, as though easing a slight discomfort rub her fingers on her soft skin letting them drift right to the edge of her crotch where her tight silky panties met her thigh. As both men let their eyes dart from her face to her midriff, probably expecting her to cover up once she realised what she was doing, they instead found them selves looking into her calm sexy stare and for an extra thrill, as she had their full attention she let them see her glance down to watch her hand moving along the line of her panty leg then slowly she looked back up at them and broke out into the dirtiest smirk I have ever seen. Now they were in no doubt that she was 'entertaining' them giving them a turn on. In contradiction to the shy retiring girl I had known and married I saw my wife exchange little discreet naughty looks with the men and grin wickedly whenever she caught their eye. She fidgeted and wriggled around, sometimes pretending to scratch a little itch or find a need to rub her skin, using it as an excuse to make her thighs open and with them her pussy lips. It felt exciting for me but also a bit unnerving to know my best pals were prepared to secretly carry on this way with my wife. What signal was she sending out for what they might expect in the future or if they had the chance to be alone with her? Now I experienced pangs of jealousy, which climaxed when I saw her and Gary, for a full minute, look deep into each other's eyes, then her fingers crept to the buttons of her shirt, which was already parted and undone to the point were her tits could be seen spilling out of her bra, and without anyone else noticing she popped open another two, exposing to full view the lacy cups of her black bra that hardly covered her nipples. This changed the scene a lot! Up to know what she was doing had been largely hidden from the rest by the ample arms of the easy chair that was turned slightly away from the centre of the room. Gradually now the others began to take notice and to most it was easy to make out clearly the redness of her swollen nipples too. One lad actually found an excuse to stand up and move to get a better view seeing for the first time how high her skirt was and how wide her legs were open; he was speechless and bowled over by what he saw. Of course all this was done without anyone making it obvious they were looking and Carol tried to give the appearance that her shirt had come unfastened accidentally and she hadn't noticed – no one was going to tell her – no one but me, her husband; I could not continue pretending I had not noticed (though I let it go for a few minutes more). I was to be further surprised; when I quietly signalled to my wife that her shirt buttons had come undone instead of the fake shock and horror I had envisaged she shyly apologised to everyone turning toward them and turning her chair with her. Now all present were able to see her black lace knickers and as she fumbled with her buttons her back straightened as she looked down to concentrate causing her feet to move apart to offer balance. Everyone was stunned into silence as her movement meant that her vagina 'ate' the gusset of her pants and the mounds of her pussy protruded either side of the thin creased material. If that were not enough she then leaned forward to gain some slack enabling her to bring to two halves of her shirt together. It was too much for the restraining powers of her half-cup bra; her nipple popped to the very edge then out popped her breast! How she giggled and fumbled, taking lots of time to repair the damage, shuffling in her seat though keeping her thighs parted. She apologised once again explaining that her embarrassment had made her very clumsy and that's why it had taken such a long time. Still she sat perched on the edge of her seat legs akimbo then one of the lads found his voice and joked that, "We all should have jumped up to assist you!" The very idea excited Carol – I could tell – and as I witnessed in whose direction she gave the dirty smirk I knew who she would have liked to help her put back her tits. Gary looked sheepish conscious he was being singled out. I was experiencing a powerful arousal but also felt jealous. Later it dawned on me that the guys must have wondered why I let her perch on the edge of the seat for so long showing her cunt after just telling her that her shirt was adrift. At home she wanted to fuck. "Do you fancy Gary? You spent enough time looking into his eyes?" "Did I turn you on?" she cooed. Her honesty once again stunned me. "I was turned on – Gary has eyes that really penetrate – I'm sure he could read my thoughts – he has a really dirty smirk – he really enjoyed watching me!" She was lost in her own world and she whispered to me that she would have to find more opportunities to do naughty and exciting things. In her ecstatic, almost drunk with sex state, she told me how glad she was that I liked her being bad and seeing her do naughty things for other men. I didn't bother arguing and we just fucked. Though that incident seemed to be the most daring and outrageous antic my wife had done it didn't appear to set a trend. In fact her predilection for exposing herself to men became so ordinary and commonplace that I ceased to be enthralled or at times even notice. If I had married an extrovert woman (as many of my peers and co-workers had) who from the outset thought nothing of behaving in a raucous manner, removing their tops to dance in their bra's and thinking nothing of groping men's bums or having their own felt in front of their husband's then Carol's antic's would have seemed normal and usual. Many women teased to distraction and now there was no astonished arousal from me when she related incidents. In fact either I failed to take notice of indiscretions or she didn't think it worth bothering to mention. She had been through the typical naughty wife scenario like quite unnecessarily greeting the postman while showing her breasts through a see-through negligee, letting her robe fall open, or similarly pretending to struggle to locate her purse or money to pay the milkman and having to invite him in while she search through the kitchen. Needless to say she would either be undressed, still in her nightwear or partly dressed. One of her more daring escapades was when she told me the window-cleaner had climbed his ladder while she was stood in the bedroom in just bra and panties, sliding her nylon stockings up her leg; she pretended not to see him. I'm afraid my laughing at the obvious clichéd classic 'sex comedy bad movie' story annoyed her immensely causing her be less eager to tell me of her flashing opportunities. In the company of others I would see how, if she noticed a man, or men, taking notice of her she would let her knees part and now she liked to wear short skirts and dresses, even in winter when pantyhose and thick clothing meant she was well clad against the cold she managed to look erotic when her skirt rode up showing evidence of white panties under thick black tights over her well rounded bum cheeks. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so blasé and complacent. About this time we moved house, to a better neighbourhood and on the actual main day of moving in I had much to do. Needing to be back in the office for a few hours I had stayed at the old house long enough to make sure the removal men knew what the score was then later I made a quick visit to the new one mainly to ensure Carol was okay directing operations. I was well aware that she wouldn't miss this chance to tease especially as two of the guys were mid thirties muscular sorts while the other older man had already ran his eyes over my wife's body in a most lustful way. He looked to be well experienced in dealing with naughty housewives! Frankly, though I felt a surge of the old arousal I was far to busy and frustrated to pay much attention and knowing Carol would almost definitely be showing her panties off to the men I couldn't afford the time. Tried It. Liked It! Unbeknown to me at the time this would be the first occasion when Carol let things go a little further. A couple of years would pass before I got to know the whole story – if in fact I did, because at the time she had only admitted to playing the usual kind of teasing and flirting games. Whilst the men got on with the work Carol sorted out a few last minute jobs. She was conscious that they kept eyeing her up which prompted her to start misbehaving. They were all upstairs and as she chatted to them whilst flitting from room to room she spotted a couple of vases filled with water she had been cleaning ready to be packed away. She very clumsily upturned the vase soaking her front. The men, very much amused asked if she was okay. Carol noticed a change of look come over them as her thin top being soaked had now become transparent. One of them made a joke about being like a contestant in a wet T-shirt competition. Carol was in no urgency to go and change and let the men have a good look, then, to their delight, while still keeping up conversation with them stepped into the bedroom and said she had better take it off as it was soaking right through to her bra, pushing her chest out and drawing attention to her tits. Now they were on heat and she said they all stood right at the doorway to the bedroom about to shuffle off when she again said something that warranted them having to give a reply and while one answered her she calmly drew up the wet top and pulled it off. Standing there in her bra (and knowing how clearly her nipples could be seen) she then complained that she forgotten to take a towel from the linen cupboard and rather than the men having to be discreet and avert their eyes she stepped passed them very closely and opened the cupboard to get a towel. As though nothing was amiss she continued to chat pleasantly holding their attention while she began to dry her breasts, rubbing her tits seductively, making her nipples erect and prominent. They stood and stared, mouths agape and just to round things off she interrupted the conversation, declared that her bra was far too damp and turning away just enough to appear at least vaguely decent she let the straps slip from her shoulders and undid the clasp letting it fall to the floor. They may have got a glimpse of her reflection through the mirror- she couldn't be sure but most likely they did as she walked across the room still not quite with her back to them to delve into a drawer for a fresh bra. She said she took her time and fumbled and the men stayed and ogled until, once again covered she turned to face them and saw how the 'new' bra hardly did its job at all. Two of the men had actually moved into the room and though she swore nothing happened she admitted it would have been hard for her to resist if they had made a move on her. For a few more minutes she let them lust over her as she, very slowly she said, chose another top and put it on. The men were aroused and it caused them to be a bit less noisy as they pondered on what they had seen probably asking themselves, "Did that really happen?" and wondering if my wife was game for a bit of fun. Carol said the atmosphere was electric and sexually charged. It subsided somewhat when they parted company to take our belongings the ten miles to our new house and, understandably by my presence there. When Carol first told me this story I sat asking myself if she was telling me the truth, as I couldn't imagine red-blooded men in a situation like that not trying their luck or taking her actions as a 'come-on', an invitation. As I contemplated this she told me the rest! A short skirt isn't the ideal item to wear when moving house but Carol did. Maybe she didn't really have to go up stepladders but she did. Stepladders wobble and she cried out alarmed, and guess what? Gallant workmen came to steady them for her and she let them peer up her skirt. At his point I told her it was bullshit and she sounded like a story straight out of a soft porn magazine. "You've never before lied about you're flirting and exposing your body to men – shit – you do it in front of me and always have done – why start lying now?" There was no stepladder; Carol wanted to make a confession and she was trying to justify her actions by implying it all started accidentally and she slipped into the arms of a removal man as she stepped down from the ladder – then got carried away. Instead she had been bending over some boxes knowing full well one of the guys kept passing by. She was aware that probably the tops of her hold up stockings came in view; after the episode at the old house she intentionally taken off her pantyhose intending to give them more thrills – a fact she felt guilty about telling me as it had caused things to go much further and she felt like she had instigated it all. A voice behind her said, "Wow – I was wondering if the bottom half is a as sexy as the top!" Carol had said he should not be looking but joked, "Don't tell anyone else or everybody will want to come and have a look!" She had not bothered to even try and cover herself up. The voice told her that it would remain a secret and said, "So – are you going to oblige?" Carol said she was still merely flirting and teasing saying that she "Didn't do it for just anyone." "But you didn't mind showing off your lovely breasts – that was fantastic!" Carol answered, "Why, thank you! No, I didn't mind, glad you liked it – I enjoyed doing it for you!" She said she felt excited but a little too vulnerable but she gave in to the urge and bent a little more pushing her bottom out and up expecting to flash the part of her thighs above her stockings to just below her panty leg. A strong hand was felt between her shoulder blades and though gentle pressure was applied she was 'forced' down from the hips until her head was almost inside the box and her bottom now high in the air meant her skirt was all the way up to her hips. She expressed shock and told the man he should not be doing that but she didn't try to get up – not until she began to feel discomfort – by which time the man had spent a couple of minutes letting his hands run over her upper thighs, over the cheeks of her bottom sometimes slipping his fingers under the hem and making her give a startled cry when she felt his hands on the bare flesh of her lower back and realised her had pulled her skirt right up over her hips. Everything he felt – he could also see – and her panties were flimsy! She told him she needed to get up but he complained it would be a shame to spoil the view and said he was enjoying it so much. Carol felt cramp coming on and was desperate to straighten up. She knew it was the wrong thing to say but she had to make him allow her to stand. "I didn't say you needed to stop – but I need to get up – it's uncomfortable – I'll bend over something else for you!" Carol conceded that the tone of her voice would have given the impression that she was enjoying it too. He helped her up and drew her close to him still facing away from him. Her skirt had fallen back into place and he asked her if he could carry on now. She admitted she excused her actions by telling herself that she felt obliged to keep her promise to let him carry on having a grope and a feel but she confessed that being pressed against him and feeling his arousal had made her excited and when his hand came to her front and grabbed hold of her breast squeezing her nipple she was turned on enough to want to let him spend another few minutes feeling her. Carol reasoned that when the others came upstairs that it would have to come to a stop anyway, so meantime she would let it go on. He whispered in her ear, "Can that skirt come up again so I can admire your lovely arse?" She told him, "Alright, but only if you promise not to tell anyone I let you!" With difficulty she confessed to letting him lift her skirt up to her hips and she allowed him to grind his crotch into her, neither of them speaking anymore, one hand came round to play with her tits and the other stroked her upper thigh. She felt his cock pressing into her crack told me it made her feel very aroused. Yes, she said, I did begin to respond by wriggling my bum into him. When she felt his hand covering her pussy and trying to prise her thighs wider she was turned on enough to open her legs and let him go inside her knickers to find her clitoris. Next, with convincing argument she insisted the sheer expertise of the man was to blame for bringing her to the state where she didn't care anymore and was totally sexually aroused and open to suggestion and manipulation. He knew just where and how to touch a woman she said, making her like putty in his hands. His hand had gone down the front of her pants and he pulled up her top dragging her bra over her orbs. She let him bend her over a chest of drawers then suddenly her story came to an abrupt stop as though she had got scared of what she was about to divulge. "Did he fuck you?" I demanded. I had to ask the question many times and threatened all manner of things before I had an answer. Before I got my answer Carol said she regretted telling me and should have realised what a dire effect it would have. She had vowed originally never to let me find out and said it was silly of her to imagine she could get away with telling me a sanitised version of events. "Did he fuck you?" I repeated but of course I already knew the answer. "Yes! I was carried away." Cynically I laughed and said, "So the others didn't get there in time to bring it to an end? The cavalry didn't appear!" The look on her face told me she had something else to feel guilty about. I pressed and she told me through tears. This time she took the blame and accepted responsibility. The man had her bent forward and was fingering her – and she said she was enjoying the way he was masturbating her, so much so that she worked her pussy against his fingers making it clear to him that she was loving it. It went on a few minutes and she cooed as he squeezed her tits and she held his hand over her breasts. Then his hand moved away and she heard him unzip his pants. Instead of alarming her it only excited her more and she told me that by this time she was probably prepared to do anything. She had cried out and it prompted the guy to ask her the burning question. "Do you want me to stop?" She said no, she didn't, but then asked, "What about the others?" She sensed something was amiss and the man after a pause said, "What?" To my wife's utter shock another voice answered, "It's okay!" then after a further pause a voice desperate to sound reassuring said, "We thought that you knew we were all here! It's okay!" Carol said she was too stunned to move and it wasn't until she felt her body moving that she realised she could feel the guy's cock inside her pussy and she was being fucked by him from behind while the others watched. Their various voices would reach her ears spasmodically telling her not to worry. "No one will know!" "Just enjoy it!" She let the guy fucking her pound into her then when someone suggested she should be 'turned round' she let them manipulate her making her walk onto the landing and lean over to rest on the banister. Now, her body more accessible and her attributes more easily seen she became subject to having different hands fondle and play with her. "Did they take turns with you – did they all fuck you?" She knew by my tone that there was no sense in pussyfooting or talking around things. "No," she said resigning to the fact she needed to be honest, "There wasn't chance to. The other two were already so excited that it didn't take much for them to ejaculate. They had been playing with their dicks from the start!" "Explain what you mean by it didn't take much to make them come." "Well, I didn't object when one of them wanted me to take hold of his cock and play with it." "What," I interrupted, "While you were still being fucked or after he'd finished?" I was now eager for detail. "While I was still being fucked," she said full of guilt. "He wanted me to masturbate him at the same time. He was close to me fondling my tits." "And the other guy?" This took a great effort to tell – and with much angst and shame. "I was still bent over the banister, holding on to it with one hand to steady myself. The other man saw that – he wasn't going to be left out. You can use your imagination – he was stood at the other side of me - when he turned my face toward him it was obvious what he wanted me to do." "So you did?" She shamefully nodded her head, "He was only in my mouth a couple of minutes, not even that!" I took a deep breath, "But if he had taken a long time, it wouldn't have made any difference to you – wouldn't have bothered you? You didn't know how long they were going to take. You sucked him off? Did he 'cum' in your mouth?" She said, "Sort of – I wasn't expecting it – yes he did!" "And?" I worked my hand on the other one while he 'cum'. And before you ask, the guy fucking me had already climaxed and was just holding me – getting his breath back." It's an incredible story!" I said, my mind subdued and numbed by picturing the various scenes and train of events. Cleary what was missing from her tale was explanations of how she felt inside, whether she made conscious decisions or simply got carried along with events. Many questions had to be answered but now wasn't the time to analyse. One question, if she answered it honestly and forthrightly would give me an insight into the true nature of her sexuality. "Did you see them again – did they come back for more?" She looked uneasy and searched for the right words. "They didn't come back no – neither did I arrange to meet them on another day." "There is something else though isn't there – I can see you struggling?" Carol let out a long sigh and rubbed her forehead in the way mentally frustrated people do. "Afterwards, I think we were all shocked by our behaviour and the men left me and got on with their work. We didn't talk hardly from then on but having cleaned myself up I kept out of the way and kept busy. At one point much later in the afternoon I made them a cup of tea and we made a little small talk as though nothing had gone on but it felt uncomfortable for all of us I think. Eventually their job was finished – early in fact, due to the way they engrossed themselves in the task after the extraordinary diversion. I had tried to put it out of my mind so not to raise any alarms or let you suspect or have to ask why things hadn't gone to plan. Maybe the men thought that too, making them determined not to leave any suspicious clues. They had done the job and were about to leave; we were all stood in the hallway. The realisation that all was well and knowing they were well ahead of schedule must have made them relax giving them time to think about the things we had done – I don't know, I'm just surmising. Anyway the foreman said, "We've done now," and in a self-satisfied way pointed out how quick and efficient they had been. Now that they had time on their hands I could sense they were looking at me in the way they had that morning and must have been thinking about what had happened. I noticed one of the younger guys seemed to be getting restless and kept drawing in deep breaths like he was building up to something – and he was! Walking up to me he dared to put an arm around my waist; he planted a kiss on my lips. I know I should have pushed him away but I was taken aback and then, well.... let's say I didn't find it unpleasant. He broke off but stayed put just nibbling my neck and giving little kisses while making flirtatious comments. He told me that it had been great working here and that I was amazing. The others just looked on while gradually the man's hands started to wander, over my breasts and on my backside. I began to feel excited and I could see the faces of his mates and imagined what they were thinking when they saw me just stand there and let the guy pull my top out of my skirt and slide his hand up to play with my tits. I let myself surrender to it all - when he went to give me a really passionate and hard kiss I bent my head to one side to meet him and responded kissing him back." "Get to the point, now!" I urged impatiently. "So what happened – did the others demand a farewell last grope too?" Carol developed a faraway look then said, "When the guy next broke off from kissing me pointed out again that they had finished quite early – then he asked me, "Do you want to go upstairs?" I had found it exciting feeling a different penis inside me and wasn't going to pretend I hadn't enjoyed it." "So you said yes?" I snapped. "It's not that I said yes – I just didn't say no. He saw me glance at the clock to check for time so knew that I was willing. He whispered that he'd make sure they were gone well before you came home and started to walk me to the staircase. I went in front of him upstairs and let him take me into the bedroom. My heart was pounding and I knew I was acting like a slut but I was in a daze. It wasn't until he turned me around to face him that I fully realised what I was doing – he hadn't meant go upstairs with him! When he had asked me if I was willing to go upstairs he had meant with all three of them! The others were there and having followed right behind us they were already calmly getting undressed. I stood there and we all looked at each other as they dropped their pants then I felt the button on my skirt come slack and it fell around my ankles. A hand grabbed me between my legs then my arms went above my head automatically so my top could be pulled off. I'm sorry – but if you want me to tell you all I have to admit that when I stood there in just bra and knickers seeing the dirty look on their faces – and seeing their cocks standing hard and bouncing in front of them – when I saw the effect it was having on their cocks...I wanted it! I let them all have their turn; they were greedy and clumsy at first but they organised themselves on the bed and I played with cocks while they waited their turn to fuck me. And I wanted to experience all three – having all three men separately but consecutively ram a cock inside me and fuck me hard! I'm sorry but I won't pretend – I loved every minute of it and no I didn't the slightest bit guilty afterwards!" "You would do it again – if you got the chance?" "I never saw them again – that's the truth – but if I was in a situation, similar, with other men – yes. I think I would be likely to give in to the temptation if I felt the same kind of thrilling sexual excitement. It's powerful – though I wouldn't even want to try and fight against it anyway – I would give in to it because I would want to!" "So – it's only reasonable to assume that you already have?" Carol actually had the audacity to laugh, "No, not exactly – but I have been with another man." "Who?" The question was short simple but said with determination to insist on an answer. "The old guy – who lives at the end of the street." "You're fucking joking – please!" "Listen," she screeched, "If you want the story!" "Those fields, at the back of the street, leading down to the river. I once saw him going out with his camera and being a nice day I followed him out of curiosity to see what he took pictures of. I caught him up by the gate at the bottom of the meadow and he told me it had been a hobby of his for years, taking pictures of the wildlife and the passing seasons. I was just having a laugh and for amusement I perched on the gate and asked if he'd like me in one of his pictures. He laughed too and lifted his camera to focus when a breeze blew and my dress went up around my waist. I was sat on the top bar of the gate and had rested my feet on the bottom strut, spread out for balance. Tried It. Liked It! I hadn't intended it but when I knew he could see my panties and my legs were open wide it changed the mood and brought on that feeling I get – sexy, urge to be bad. He hesitated and dropped the camera away from his eye for an instant expecting me to pull down my dress. I pretended nothing was wrong and stayed looking at him smiling for the camera. I asked him if he'd prefer me looking into the lens or was it better if I gazed into the middle distance. He said it was fine and it dawned on him slowly that I was well aware my panties were visible to him. The old guy took a couple of shots and was becoming quite excited. I teased him saying that I hoped it wouldn't cause him trouble if his wife found out he'd been taking pictures of other women. It made it all seem the more thrilling and wicked for him and he assured me he was discreet and being digital he could view them privately on his computer without needing to rely on someone to develop the film. The old chap, bless him, had just discovered modern technology and had made it his new hobby. When I smiled and whispered, "It's okay then we'll keep it our naughty secret!" he was almost shaking. He could still see my panties. He shook even more when I let my foot slide along the rail knowing it would make my pussy lips open and display the flesh either side of my pubes. I let him take some more pics and we chatted a bit; he used our chat as an excuse to feast his eyes on me without having to mess with his camera. As he was about to take a few more shots we heard voices and I had to adjust my clothing. Our eyes met as I pulled my dress down and it was like we both shared the same sexual thrill. I got down from the gate while a couple of men passed with their dogs and knowing the path was likely to become quite busy the man reluctantly put away his camera. He told me he would go down to the river and thanked me for posing for him. I was feeling pretty horny now and was eager for more. I asked him, "Would you like me to come with you – or shall I leave you to your hobby?" I saw his jaw open wide in disbelief; he hadn't expected me to make an offer like that. He stuttered a bit and said he would be delighted if I went with him. We wondered down along the banking and he pointed out some wild flowers but I could tell he had rather lost interest in nature and the surroundings. I said why didn't he take a snap of the flowers with me sitting next to them and I sat on the grass leaving one knee bent and my thighs apart. He was in no doubt about what I was doing and knew it wasn't accidental. He clicked away and after a few shots I opened my legs even more for him pulling my dress up right above the waistband of my panties. "Make very sure your wife doesn't see these!" I said. He was so excited he was out of breath. We progressed along the riverbank and he picked out spots, for instance, a fallen tree where I would pose for him. I had unfastened my top enough for him to appreciate my tits but not all the way because we could hear voices in the distance probably coming our way. I asked him about the little wood set on top of a rise and he suggested to me that it might be an idea to go there so we wouldn't be seen; he said it like he was nervous about being so direct and half expected me to be insulted. We went of course and he was like a child at Christmas. Now we were away from prying eyes I undid my top and showed him my tits properly and posed far more lewdly. It was me who edged closer to him tempting him to touch me, almost inviting him to in fact. It might have got no farther than excessive teasing and flashing, followed by letting have a grope if I hadn't have discovered what a fine specimen of a penis he owned. I joked asking him if it still worked and he took it in his hand and this time let me watch him bring it to attention. He saw how interested I was, took my hand and placed it around his shaft. Between letting him play with my tits while I masturbated him and letting him finger me I squatted down and sucked him. He said he had never had that done to him for years. I finished up getting so carried away I pressed him backwards to lean against a tree and told him I wanted his cock inside me. He stood there while I pulled my panties to one side and impaled myself on him – then I fucked him and brought myself off. So there you have it." "Do you still see him – for sex I mean – he only lives at the end of the road?" "Occasionally I pop into his house when his wife isn't there and pose for him but it's just an excuse to go and have sex. The neighbours think I'm just looking out for an old man and being friendly. There have been times when I have met him along the road and driven with him to a secluded spot and we either just play with each other and I suck him off or just wank him." I gave a sardonic laugh and said, "Lucky old bastard." We didn't speak again for two hours and went about our day in deep thought until Carol snapped. "So what happens now? Does one of us pack our bags – do we consult lawyers about getting a divorce?" I sat down and motioned her to do the same before I addressed her, speaking in a very calm and steady matter-of-fact voice. "Next time you go and see the old guy see if you can get some stuff from his hard drive particularly those early pics, down by the river. You know how to do it don't you? Also I had been wondering about having some work done on the house – a small extension perhaps. What do you think? It would mean the house would be littered with builders, plasters, and electricians and such like for quite a while; do you think you could cope?" Carol looked delighted and relieved – then excited. "Yes, I think so!" she purred. The End