15 comments/ 162718 views/ 34 favorites A Drink After Dinner By: quinn rogan My wife, Susan, is a lovely girl. Oh, I'm not talking film-star, 'instant hard-on' stuff, here. She's not like that. She's – nice – wholesome – attractive –'that' kind of lovely – on the surface. Underneath, though – well, she can be thoroughly 'wicked'. I'd better explain. I met Susan when we were both seventeen, starting sixth form college. I noticed her right away – quite a tall girl; dark brown curly hair, cut short; deep liquid-brown eyes set very wide apart on high cheekbones, giving her a look of extreme innocence, almost naivety; a straight, slim nose; and a wide mouth, with generous lips, which always appeared to be hovering on the edge of a smile. The regulation school uniform betrayed little of her body shape (of which more later!) but I could see that she was neither excessively fat, nor skinny, and the calves and ankles showing below the school skirt were shapely enough. Getting to know her wasn't difficult – she was very easily approachable and friendly, with a great sense of humour – but taking matters beyond that stage was not at all easy. I tried for three months to get a date with her, but she always turned me down with a charming, regretful smile, then made me feel better by carrying on the conversation without tension or embarrassment. The one consolation was that she didn't go out with anyone else, either – in fact, people who had known her at her last school said they couldn't recall her ever going out with anyone, at all. Boys – that is, but there seemed to be no question of her being 'inclined the other way' – she seemed to enjoy the company of boys and girls more or less equally. But, I kept working at it, and the school Christmas dance proved to be the breakthrough. We weren't together for the whole evening, or even most of it, but I did get the last dance with her – and she not only let me escort her home, but allowed me four very satisfying kisses on the way! So, we became an 'item'. At the beginning, I was very circumspect in my sexual approaches, despite the thrusting desire burgeoning in my (now eighteen-year-old) loins. By now, though, I was very well aware of the general outline of Susan's shape and it was more than suited to my taste. Her breasts were high and firm-looking, if not overly large; her legs, observed during school hockey matches, were at once shapely and athletic; and her bottom, viewed even more carefully by me at these games, was one of those joyous peach-shaped structures you could stack half a dozen dinner plates on. She wasn't a great hockey player, but I loved to watch her play! By early Spring, though, I was beginning to feel the strain of abstinence, having lost my own virginity some eighteen months before and having 'had', in all, three separate girls at my previous school, and I began to force the issue a bit. Every time I tried to put a hand on her breast, she would gently remove it, and the time came when I knew I had to resolve this issue, or move on to pastures new. And I desperately didn't want to give her up – in everything but sex, we seemed a perfect match, and I couldn't imagine life without her. One night, when we were babysitting for her aunt, matters came to a head and I 'laid it on the line'. And, for the first time ever, I saw her cry. I felt such a heel for putting her through such distress, but, as it turned out, it was probably the best thing I could have done. Through her tears, she told me of a frightening, distressing experience which had happened to her when she was just fourteen. I didn't get all the detail then – she was too shy to spell it out, although I have learned chapter and verse since – and, of course, because of her age at the time, I can't go into it here. Basically, though, what had happened was one of those teenage things, when she and an older girl had just been chatting and larking about with a group of five boys when, suddenly, things took a sexual turn and, while neither of the girls was raped, they were both pretty thoroughly exposed and 'explored' by the boys, much against Susan's will, if not the other girl's. This had had a traumatic effect on the young Susan, and left her very wary of being alone with a boy, or even in a female minority, in a group. Of course, when she told me this, I was outraged, although, even at the time, I was aware of an uncomfortable stirring, deep down, when I pictured the scene. She, too, turned eighteen, soon after the night she told me about that experience, and, as she grew to trust me more and more, I at last made the breakthrough. One memorable night – clearly a considered decision – she took my hand and placed it on her left breast, while we were kissing on her aunt's settee, and, ten minutes later, I was gazing in awe at her beautiful naked breasts, with their dark pink aurolae and thick, erect nipples. Very soon afterwards, I discovered that her nipples were extremely sensitive, both to manual and oral stimulation, and it was only three weeks later that the final barrier collapsed and I drew down her panties to reveal her full-lipped, moist vagina in a nest of soft brown curly hair ...... She gave up her virginity happily and, as far as I could tell, practically painlessly, and, from that point on, we could not keep our hands off each other. We married four years later, when we both finished university and, now, eleven years on from then, we have two sons, a nice Georgian house in the country, and an idyllic life – by and large. Well, it's pretty good, I suppose. I have a very well-paid job with an international engineering organisation and the travelling involved does at least mean we get a break from each other. Maybe I've put that rather badly. It means we have to separate from time to time, for longish periods, which rekindles the embers and makes us more appreciative of the times we have together. Well, that's the theory, anyway. I suppose, in practice, when it comes down to it, when you've been fucking the same woman for fifteen years – feeling the same pair of tits – it really can get a bit monotonous – well, 'samey'. For – oh, about the last five or six years or so, I've found myself more aware of other women and, if the truth be told, I have strayed off the straight and narrow a few times, when I've been away. But, each time, when I've come home, and looked into Susan's wide innocent eyes, I've felt really bad about it. Mind you, the eyes are not always a completely accurate window on the soul, as I've found out where Susan's concerned! A few years back, in bed one night, I pressed Susan for every last detail of her 'traumatic' experience of her early teens. It led to a memorable, and very educational, night – probably for both of us. First of all, I found that, far from my having to drag it out of her, she was only too ready to go into every last detail – and, it seemed to me, got more and more turned on as she did so. I was less surprised that I, too, became more and more horny as the tale unfolded – so much so that, halfway through, I couldn't keep off her and fucked her until I came, and then came back for seconds, for the first time for several years, as she took up the story where she had left off. Then she confessed that she had not only relived it in her mind a thousand times, but the she had fantasised about it going further – and had masturbated to these, and other 'forced sex' fantasies. This was a hugely liberating admission, for both of us, as it allowed me to 'come clean', not least to myself, about a feeling of massive arousal when I contemplated Susan with another man – 'forced' or otherwise. And it led to a tremendous re-awakening of our mutual desire for each other, fuelled by fantasy. We even occasionally 'acted out' rape scenarios with each other, which excited Susan enormously, and she willingly cooperated in my fantasy encounters involving her with other men. But even more rewarding, from my point of view, were Susan's confessions of a few 'true-life' transgressions, since our marriage – indeed, our relationship – had begun. The first halting admission involved a mutual friend, who had since moved away, who had been dancing close to Susan at a party at which I had been somewhat the worse for wear, and, by then, actually asleep in a darkened room. The guy, called Noel, had made it plain, by the simple expedient of pushing his erection against her while they danced, how he felt, and Susan, who had had a drink or two herself, had let him manoeuvre her into another room, where there was only one other couple dancing. They had been all over each other and, before she recovered her wits, Susan had allowed Noel to slip his hands up her blouse and push her bra aside to fondle her bare breasts – in fact, she had enjoyed it so much that she didn't call a halt to it until his other hand was wedged down the back of her panties, squeezing the soft cheeks of her luscious bottom. There had been other similar occasions – not always when I was insensible through a surfeit of real ale! One New Year, though, I had been non compos mentis when the brother of one of our neighbours, who had been pursuing Susan determinedly ever since she went slightly 'over the top' with her New Year kiss, finally got her in a slow dance to a Beatles classic – which I know turns her on – and weakened her resistance to the point where he was behind her, his erection jammed hard against her squirming bum, one hand fondling her exposed tits, the other down the front of her panties teasing her clit, as they watched his brother on a settee with another neighbour, sliding her panties off as she parted her legs in open invitation ...... Susan only escaped that time, by making a beeline for the loo, in her last moments of sanity, but she does enjoy it when I take that one forward, in fantasy, and have her screwed, not only by the brother, but by our neighbour, who is apparently very well-endowed in the prick department! These, though, are the 'highlights' of Susan's 'extra-marital' career, although there have been other passionate fondles from time to time, and I calculate, in all, a total of eight guys, other than me, have groped her tits and three have actually made it, with their fingers, into her pussy. However, the demands of childbirth, and parenthood, have meant that, recently, our social life has been a bit restricted, and it was a very rare occasion, at the back end of last summer, when we found ourselves with a free – a child-free, even! – weekend, the older boy attending Cub camp, and the younger visiting his grandparents. The weather was glorious – that luxurious early September sunshine that warms you without making you uncomfortable. I flew in from Germany in mid-afternoon on the Friday, and we had a lazy evening, with a glass or two of wine, then an 'early night', with some very satisfying sex – without even having to worry about the noise when we both came! When I woke, the next morning, I fancied a bit more of the same, but Susan wriggled away, playfully, and said she wanted to 'keep me on the boil' for that night. She slid out of bed – still naked from the night before – and went over to open the bedroom curtains. She flung them wide open and stood, naked, soaking up the morning sunshine through the glass, which reaches down to the floor. She knew what that was doing to me. We're not very visible from the road outside, but we're not completely invisible, either, and she knew it would give my cock a lift – the slight chance that someone passing by might get a clear view of her lush, desirable body. I knew, too, that she only does that when she's aroused, herself, so I crept over and grabbed her from behind, clasping her tits, feeling her thick, erect nipples, and pushing my erection into the firm flesh of her buttocks. At first, she struggled, then she seemed to concede, and stood, looking out of the window, as my hand slid down over her belly, into her pubic forest, towards her juicy cunt. Then she suddenly wriggled free, and dashed into the shower, slamming the door behind her. "To-night, you randy bastard!" she yelled at me, through the door. "And only after you've bought me dinner at the Sun!" It wasn't a bad idea, though – dinner at the Sun, our local pub, then back for another night of sex and sin! I flung on some clothes, and went out to attack the garden ...... Working in a suit, mainly in offices, as I do, I find that a day 'at one with nature' – taming its elements, so to speak, does tend to make me feel a bit 'earthy' – a bit 'randy', really, and, as the afternoon drew to a lazy close, I packed up the tools and looked forward to a long soak in a bath, then the Sun and another good shag! I had to wait for my bath, as Susan beat me to it. It's always a good sign when she has a long bath – it usually means she's in a sensuous mood, even before she goes in, and it always means that, when she comes out ...... We don't actually 'share' baths, and I do think, from time to time, that she 'amuses' herself when she's in there. But – don't knock it! I usually reap the benefit, anyway! By the time I emerged, relaxed – and clean again! – Susan was dressed. Even I stopped momentarily, at the sight of her. She looked fabulous. Over the summer, she had developed a deep tan, and she was wearing a deep yellow summer dress, with matching underwear, which set off her skin and hair tones superbly. "God!" I said. "You look terrific!" "Thank you, kind sir," she said with a cheeky grin, and twirled to let her dress rise, showing her tanned bare legs, and her skimpy yellow panties. "I think I'll just fuck you, now!" I growled. "Sod dinner – and the Sun!" "That's what you think," she laughed. "Anyone who fucks me has to buy me dinner first!" I was half-serious. Susan looked majorly fuckable and, for two pins, I'd have started on her, there and then. And, as I was still naked, having just got out of the bath, the evidence was there for all to see! Susan sidled towards me, and took a gentle hold of my erect cock, looking down at it. "Is that all for me, kind sir!" she said, in her 'little-girl' voice. "Oh, my – do you think I'll manage it all?" She slid her fingers up and down it, then bent down and ran her tongue over the tip. I was tempted to force her head down over it, but thought I'd never be forgiven ...... "You've got five seconds before I rip that dress off you ...... " I started, but, with a laugh, she was off. As we drove the few miles to the pub, through the country lanes, I kept glancing at her. Christ, she was so sexy tonight – she was giving off an aura, almost, and my cock was reacting predictably. I hoped it wouldn't leak through and leave a mark on my light slacks ...... Then, as we passed a field, I couldn't suppress a chuckle, as Susan almost became invisible, the colour of her dress an exact match for the crop swaying in the light breeze. She looked up. "What's funny?" "Your dress – and those flowers!" I replied. She looked out of the window, and smiled. "Oh – the rape field?" "The what?" I said. "Rape – that's what that is – oil-seed rape," she explained, patiently. I'm not too 'up' on recognising crops in fields. "It might live up to its name, on the way home," I threatened. "I'll be getting pretty desperate, by then." "Promises – promises," she laughed. "And I'll promise not to run too fast!" We had a lovely dinner. The restaurant wasn't too busy, and the little waitress had a very attractive cleavage every time she leant over to pick up a plate, which all added to the sexual ambience and tension which surrounded the whole evening. As usual, we called in at the public bar before we left, so that I could have a pint of real ale, which they weren't keen on serving in the restaurant. It was quiet in there, too – just two or three groups of locals, playing dominoes and crib, and a couple of young lads at the dartboard. Susan had a last glass of wine, to add to the half-bottle she had consumed, almost single-handedly, in the restaurant. I had refrained, knowing that I would have a pint of beer before we drove home. I stood at the bar, while Susan sat on a stool, idly swinging her legs in the short dress, watching the action on the dartboard. I was aware that I was drinking my beer more rapidly than usual, in my keenness to get back home and start exploring beneath that yellow dress. "Oh – nice one!" Susan called, as a dart thudded firmly into the double twenty, closing out the game. "Well done!" "Thanks," grinned the thrower. "Do you fancy a game?" "Why not?" replied Susan, cheerfully. "Just a quick one – see if I've still got the touch. I used to be quite good when I was at college." I was devastated. I didn't want to play fucking darts in a fucking pub – I wanted to get my wife home and fuck her brains out – or get her to fuck mine out! But she was tripping lightly across the floor, taking three darts from one of these guys, and having a practice throw. And – she was taking her time about it. Standing on the mat, one long slim leg stretched out behind her, one arm raised high, straining the material of her dress tight over her right breast – she had a pretty good idea of the picture she presented. I looked at the two guys. They didn't look – or sound – local. But they weren't looking at me, at all. They were watching Susan – and she bloody knew it! I felt a little tremor – just a frisson of excitement. I knew what they were thinking, and I couldn't help it turning me on. They couldn't have been much more than twenty – but Susan didn't look much over twenty-six or seven, herself, especially in that dress. Her practice throws were quite good, and the boys applauded enthusiastically. She went forward to pull her darts out, then turned to face the three of us. I immediately spotted the prominent indentations of her thick nipples poking through the yellow material of her dress – and I was sure I wasn't the only one looking. "Why don't you get the boys a drink, Robert? I'm Susan, by the way," she said, to the lads, "and this is Robert, my husband." We all shook hands, the boys introducing themselves as Mark and Gary. I didn't care for Mark, too much – a tall, slim, slightly supercilious lad – but Gary, who was smaller and stockier, had a pleasant grin and an easy way with him. They each asked for a pint of cask ale, and I turned to get them in. As we played, Susan chatted easily with them – more so with Mark, I noted – while noting his frequent glances down the front of Susan's dress, as well. Gary was eyeing her up, too – less blatantly but, it seemed to me, more – well, knowledgeably, if that's the right word. They were two of a group of four college pals, camping in a field a couple of miles down the road. The other two had taken the car into town, to see a film, and those two had walked it here, for a quiet drink, before they moved on, the next day. They beat us easily, twice, on the dartboard and, by mutual unspoken consent, we abandoned the game and sat down at one of the small tables. Susan was blossoming as the centre of attention of three admiring males and my impatience had subsided. I felt that, in the long run, this encounter would prove to my benefit – all this adulation would put her even more in the mood, when we eventually returned to the empty house. Inevitably, as women do, she was asking about girl-friends. Mark was still 'playing the field', as he put it, and I thought, a little sourly, that he was probably doing quite well at it, judging by the way Susan was smiling up at him. Gary, on the other hand, had just broken up a long-time romance with his girl-friend from school – the separation of his going to university proving too much for her to handle. Susan asked which of them had found someone else and, when Gary said that she had, her eyes misted over. I could tell she wanted to cuddle him and cursed him – it wasn't her maternal instincts that I wanted to arouse tonight! A Drink After Dinner I wasn't surprised to hear that Gary had had a long-term – presumably sexual – relationship. He struck me as having much more awareness and understanding of women than his friend, Mark, who clearly saw them all as sexual targets, and behaved accordingly. I could certainly tell that Gary had made a hit with Susan – more so than his friend, I thought, with some satisfaction. Susan was talking about how we had managed to survive those three years at different universities, glancing at me, from time to time, with that wicked look in her eyes. She knew exactly what I was thinking – 'For God's sake, let's get out of here, and back to our empty house!' I drained my glass, and stood up. I had had enough. "Come on then – it's time we pushed off. I daren't drink any more, anyway!" I announced. To my relief, Susan got up, too – followed by the two boys, who said they would have to get back, too. So we walked out together, into the now darkened car park. "Can we give you a lift?" asked Susan, suddenly. I knew they were camped in the opposite direction from us, but it was only a couple of miles and I was quite happy to go out of my way. But it wasn't as simple as that – is it ever? Mark asked if we could take him back to the field, then run Gary into the town –where we lived, anyway – so that he could pick up some chips, then get a lift back to the field from their two friends who were in the town, anyway. "Yes – that's all right, isn't it, Robert?" said Susan, who was even more animated now that she was out in the open air. Taking my acceptance for granted, she opened the passenger door of our two-door car and held it open. "Now, Gary, you get in there, and I'll get in beside you, because Mark will be getting out first ......" Gary clambered in and Susan flopped down beside him and pulled the passenger seat towards her. Mark got into the front, beside me, and we set off. It only took a couple of minutes to cover the two miles, with Susan chattering gaily all the time, then I pulled up at the side of the road, as directed by Mark. He thanked me for the lift and we shook hands. Then he turned his head and tried, rather awkwardly, to reach his hand behind to shake hands with Susan. She giggled as he struggled to get round, then suddenly half-raised herself from her seat and, putting her hands round his head, kissed him full on the mouth. He caught on quick, I'll say that for him, and managed to put an arm round her as they kissed, open-mouthed. I must say I wasn't exactly surprised – Susan was obviously very fired up, and I had worked out already that she fancied this guy. And I should worry – he was about to disappear from our lives – for ever. So, if he ratcheted up Susan's sexual temperature by a notch or two – that was OK by me. I could sense, though, that Gary, in the back, was a bit shocked. His stunned silence was almost audible! No doubt, he was now hoping for something of the same when his turn came – and I was looking forward to witnessing it, I realised. Looking a bit stunned himself, Mark stumbled out of the car, and Susan sank back in her seat. I pulled the passenger door shut, and gunned the engine. Susan took a long breath, then exhaled slowly. "Wow!" she said, then – "Hey, take it easy, cowboy – you don't want to get stopped, do you?" There was something in that, and I slowed back down to a respectable 20 mph. There was a brief silence, then I heard Susan say – "Gary? Do you miss Sandra very much?" There was something in her voice, and his hesitation before he replied, that made me glance round. Sure enough, between the two front seats, I could see Susan's hand on his and, as I watched, she intertwined her fingers with his, then gently pulled his hand out of my field of vision. My heart began to thud. What was she up to? Where had she put his hand? I didn't hear his reply, and glanced round again. My cock stiffened. Susan's left arm was pulling Gary's head towards hers, her mouth upraised and open. He was twisting his head towards me, his eyes wary. I snapped my head back to the front and reached up to adjust my mirror. It re-focussed just as their lips met in a hungry kiss, Susan's hand clasped round the back of Gary's neck. My eyes travelled downwards, and I saw Gary's right hand, guided by Susan, close round the firm swell of her left breast. It was an incredible sight. I had visualised this in my mind a hundred times, when Susan had described it to me, but this was the first time I had ever seen another man actually feel her breast. I didn't know what to think – or what to do. This wasn't fantasy – this was happening. I slowed down even more – aware that my infrequent glances at the road would make me a real hazard if I was going at any speed at all. My heart was beating like a triphammer – I was so excited, I almost felt sick. It was then that I knew, for sure, I didn't want to stop it – in fact, I didn't want it to stop. There might come a point when I would, but I didn't know when it would be. All I knew was – it wasn't now! I realised I was now crawling along in second gear. Susan and Gary were still on their first kiss, and I could hear Susan moaning softly. Gary's hand was now feeling her breast openly, squeezing and cupping it, but he had made no move to uncover it. He must have known Susan wouldn't object, which meant that I was the one he was worried about ...... God, if only he knew! My cock was practically screaming for release as it stood up, ramrod-straight, in my tight trousers. I didn't want to speak, for fear of breaking the spell – I decided to try to signal my OK by letting the car coast to a halt. I slipped the gear lever into neutral, and slid the car into the side of the road. I left the engine running, in case a sudden silence might alarm one, or both, of them. I turned in my seat, to get a better view. Susan's eyes opened, and she slowly removed her mouth from Gary's. She pulled his head down into her graceful neck and spoke to me over his shoulder. "Hi, Robert," she breathed softly. "This OK?" I didn't trust myself to speak. I nodded vigorously, trying to signal my excitement and approval with my eyes. My eyes strayed to where Gary's hand was still caressing Susan's left tit, then back to her. A little frown of concern furrowed her brow. "You sure?" she asked. "Oh, yes," I replied, and mustered a shaky smile. It was the most erotic thing I'd seen in my life. I doubted I'd survive the moment when his hand slid inside her dress ...... "Robert!" Her voice was urgent, and I looked into her eyes again. They slid over my shoulder – her head jerked slightly, telling me to look out of the car. At first, I didn't get it – then, in the soft moonlight, I saw the gently swaying yellow heads ...... Susan began to giggle. Gary raised his head and, sensing the change of mood, jerked back into his seat, releasing Susan. There was a look of puzzled disappointment in his eyes. Suddenly, Susan pushed the passenger seat forward, fumbled for the door catch until it gave, then scrambled out of the car. "You explain it to him, Robert – I'm starting to run, now!" She tore off down the narrow road, then disappeared into the field. My brain raced with the task of trying to explain to Gary – and I decided not to. "Come on," I said. I hopped out of the car and held the door for him. He clambered out. "Look," I said. "There's not much time for explanations. Susan – well – she likes to be chased – and captured – it's a sort of – a game. When we catch her – well, just follow my lead – do what I say. OK?" He stared at me, then grinned. "Gotcha!" he said, then turned and started to run. I took off, as well, but I soon realised he was quicker than me. I could see them both, in the clear moonlight. Susan was moving fairly quickly, but Gary was obviously a runner, and he was reeling her in, steadily. I had no intention of getting there first, and 'capturing' her, anyway, but I realised I would have to hurry if I was going to be close enough to see what happened when he did catch her up, so I tried to put on a sprint. I was badly out of condition, and my erection wasn't helping my running action ...... I was still about twenty yards away when Susan finally gave up and slowed, then turned, raising her hands above her head, as though in surrender. But then she stretched them out in front of her, straight from her shoulders, as though warding something off, and began half-walking, half-running, backwards, away from the advancing Gary, her face wearing a convincing expression of fear and apprehension ...... Gary, too, had slowed down, obviously unsure of what to do, and he was about ten yards away from the retreating Susan when I caught up with him. That was when I heard her say – "No – please – please don't ......" It took me a second to catch on – then it hit me like a bolt of lightning – both of our fantasies, in one! We could see her face, now – contorted in apparent terror, her voice thin and quavering ...... "Please – don't touch me. Let me go, please ... please ...." Gary had stopped, and I shouldered my way past him, and grabbed Susan's shoulders. I could feel her trembling as I whirled her round to face Gary. At the same time, I moved behind her, pushed my hands beneath her armpits and locked them behind her neck. "Nooooo," she wailed. "Please – noooooo!!!!!!!!!" "Come on, Gary," I breathed, my cock jammed hard up against my wife's squirming buttocks. "Come and give her tits a feel ......" "Oh, no – please," whimpered Susan, but not quite convincingly enough. Gary stepped forward and placed his hands, confidently, on Susan's breasts – and squeezed. I felt her shudder, and she moaned – "Nooooooooooo .........." Gary started on the top button of her dress. "Oh, no – don't open it – don't ......" Her bum was rotating wildly against my erection, and I had to keep taking deep breaths, to keep myself from the point of ejaculation. My mouth was dry, and my heart thudding wildly as I watched the young man skilfully unbutton my wife's dress, revealing her lacy yellow bra through which, even from my vantage point behind her shoulder, I could see her nipples making large indentations ...... With her dress open to her waist, Gary reached up a hand and took Susan's left nipple between his thumb and forefinger. First of all, he rolled it gently, and I could hear Susan's breathing becoming quick and ragged – then he squeezed it, sharply, and she gasped, with a quick intake of breath. He looked into her eyes, and grinned, then bent his head and, through the flimsy bra, took her other nipple between his lips, and sucked at it vigorously. "Ooooohhhhh, Jesus," moaned Susan. "Ooooohhhh, please ........" She was becoming difficult to hold, as she writhed around, her head shaking from side to side. I didn't know how much more of this I could take ......... "Get them out!" I snarled at him, over her shoulder. "Get her tits out – let's have a look!" It was – really – as though I would be seeing them for the first time. And it was the first time I would be seeing them exposed by another man – to another man. "Oh, no," beseeched Susan. "Not – two of you – I've never had two men touch me – there – before ......" But, to the accompaniment of a choking sob from Susan, Gary lifted the bottom of her bra, and raised it up, revealing her naked, succulent breasts. They had never looked so tempting to me. I desperately wanted to reach forward and fondle them, myself, but I sensed that Susan wanted to stay 'imprisoned' by my arms – to be 'helpless' as her body was exploited and fondled by this virtual stranger. And Gary, now, was taking full advantage, his mouth and hands roaming freely over Susan's tits. Her body was now tightly sandwiched between us and I was sure she must be able to feel Gary's erect cock, also, pressed hard against her. Then, suddenly, her bottom jerked back hard against me, and she let out a long, shuddering moan. I felt her raise herself on tiptoe and realised that Gary's fingers must now be delving between the tops of her slightly parted legs – and, for the first time, I thought about the logical ultimate outcome of this passionate role-play. Could I handle it – the sight of another man's cock sliding between Susan's open thighs? I tried to visualise the scene and the answering surge deep in my balls gave me the answer ...... Gary had dropped to his knees and was tugging at the remaining buttons on Susan's dress. From behind her, I was staring down at her breasts, bouncing free. My hands ached to take hold of them, and I loosened my grip round the back of her neck and cupped them, sliding my hands under her armpits. She twisted her head, looking up at me, and I lowered my mouth to kiss her. Her tongue forced its way inside my mouth and a succession of low moans came from deep in her throat. I looked down her body. Her dress was now fully open, and Gary's hands were at the waistband of her panties. As I watched, he began to slide them down, over her hips, down her thighs. He lifted one of her feet, and pulled the skimp garment over her shoe. Then he slid his hands up the back of her legs, and I moved back, just in time, as his hands cupped the cheeks of her squirming bottom. I felt the added weight as he eased himself between Susan's thighs and lifted them slightly, and dipped his head towards the dark V at the top of her thighs. I saw his lips descend on her pussy and caught a glimpse of his tongue, extended forward, before Susan suddenly arched her back, a soundless scream vibrating the back of both our throats. She ripped her mouth away from mine. Her body was horizontal, rigid, as she fought for breath against the choking, sobbing gasps brought about by the invasion of her engorged cunt by Gary's probing, caressing tongue – and, I could now see, his thumb, expertly teasing and vibrating her clitoris. Then her breathing came in great shaking gasps, and I lowered her, as gently as possible, to the ground. I stood up, shaking with overwhelming excitement, as she lay on her back, the lower half of her body writhing in passion as Gary expertly tongued between her legs. Her hands flew up to grip her naked breasts savagely, clutching her nipples, and pulling them, stretching them ...... Gary's free hand was busy unbuckling his jeans, then he frantically pushed them down, exposing his lean, hard buttocks. I caught a fleeting glimpse of his thick cock before his fingers closed round it, and he shuffled forward a little, lifting his mouth away from Susan's soaking cunt. I didn't know when I had opened my slacks, but my own rock-hard erection was in my hand as I watched Susan's legs open wider, gently eased further apart by the pressure of Gary's advancing knees. Then, I saw him lower himself between her waiting thighs. Susan's eyes suddenly focussed on me – they were wide – questioning. I couldn't read the expression in them – was it fear, doubt, or an unspoken plea for approval? They flickered to my hand, clutching my own erection – then it was too late – her mouth dropped open and I saw Gary thrust himself forward and I knew he was in her – his hard thick cock driving up inside her moistness ...... He was now lying fully on top of her, his buttocks thrusting back and forth. Her hands reached up and grasped his hair, pulling his head down into her neck, and her legs scissored round the backs of his thighs, locking his maleness deep inside her. He was grunting, now, with each deep thrust, and her answering gasps were in perfect unison. Suddenly, he pulled his head back and raised his upper body until he was sitting upright, the backs of Susan's thighs supported on his, lifting her hips from the ground, and revealing, to me, the sight of his cock ploughing in and out of her spread lips. His hands reached down and grabbed her swaying tits. He pulled them, hard, and she began to shake in the throes of imminent orgasm. One of his hands slid back into her dark forest and I knew he had found her clitoris again. Susan's neck arched and the back of her head dug into the soft earth. Her cry was long, drawn-out and piercing, and gave Gary the trigger he had been waiting for. As she began to convulse, he plunged deep into her and, releasing her breasts, pulled her hips against him. I stared at the fusion of their pubic thatches, as they shook together in mutual climax, locked together in a moment of total ecstasy, then Gary began to shake as his sperm rushed inside her and he let out his pent-up breath in a mighty series of harsh gulps. I had wanted to delay my own climax – I had had some confused thought about adding my sperm to his, inside the lovely writhing body of my wife – but, it was too much for me. I, too, was gasping and moaning in release as jets of cum streamed from my own tortured cock, spraying over the ground ...... I was numb – momentarily. Closing my trousers, I watched, as though from a distant place, as Gary, passion finally spent, leaned forward and kissed Susan softly on the mouth. She didn't seem to return his kiss, but nor did she reject it. He eased himself away from her and stood up, turning his back to pull up, and fasten, his jeans. He turned to face me and seemed about to say something. Then he thought better of it and shrugged his shoulders. He was right – there was nothing to say. He spread his hands, then, with a hesitant smile, turned and walked away, continuing across the field, away from where the car was parked, in the direction of the main road. I watched him for a while, and, by the time I turned back to Susan, she had managed to dress herself again. We hugged, very tightly, the way that people do, when they can't think what to say, but they want to show their love for each other. I felt much better after that. I knew we would have to take time to absorb this experience, but I thought we would not be harmed by it, and might even, eventually, find it enriching. We spoke little on the way home but, once we were inside, we bathed, and then made slow, passionate love. Afterwards, with neither of us inclined to sleep, we spoke, at last, about what had happened and, slowly, the remembered passion overcame us and we made love, again, this time recalling the incident in detail, and savouring the unbelievable excitement we had both felt. We have relived it in our memory, and imagination, many times since then, although we have never repeated it. We understand each other's needs much better now, though, and have each had small 'adventures', part of the enjoyment of which has been the prospect of discussing them later, when we're alone together ...... (As always, I am very happy to get e-mail comment on my stories, and will reply to all those with a return address.)