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New Year's Revelation Ch. 1

By: quinn rogan



It had been a good New Year’s party – in one of the other flats in the block where we lived – but, at about three in the morning, the whisky had caught up on me, and my wife Janet and Hugh, my pal from work, had helped me upstairs, where I collapsed on our bed and closed my eyes …

I was just drifting off when I heard Janet giggle, and something arrested my tiredness.

"Doesn't he look sweet?" she chuckled. I opened my eyes. 

The room was dark, but I could see Janet and Hugh in the open doorway, and I was about to swing my legs off the bed when Hugh said - "Do I get my proper New Year kiss, now, then?"

I lay very still.

"Not here, Hugh," whispered my wife, and through my half-closed eyelids, I saw Hugh put his arm round Janet's waist and guide her away from the door.

I heard three or four footsteps, then they stopped. They must have been halfway along the hall. There was almost total silence, then I faintly heard Hugh say "Happy New Year, Jan."

"Happy New Year, Hugh" came her whispered reply, then silence fell again...

Then I heard Janet whisper - "You'll have to go now!"

"Why?" replied Hugh.

"Well, Pete's in there and...."

"He's out to the world," said Hugh.

"I know, but..."

"...anyway, what about my coffee?"

"O.K., then," said Janet, "but just one coffee and then you're on your way."

The footsteps receded and I gently lowered myself off the bed, a welter of mixed emotions. As I slipped my shoes off, the hall light went out, and I heard the chink of cups in the kitchen.

Janet laughed, softly. "Hugh, no - you mustn't!"

"Oh, come on, Janet - you know I've always fancied you!"

"Oh, I know that, Hugh MacArthur," she retorted. "I've seen the way you look at me!"

"What do you mean?" laughed Hugh.

"Well, it's like you're...looking through my clothes, to see what's underneath!"

"And do you object to that?" murmured Hugh. There was a short silence, then Janet replied - "Usually, yes, but, sometimes..."

"Sometimes, it's not so bad, eh?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "Sometimes, it's a ... nice feeling."

"What about now?" he muttered. There was a short silence, then Janet said, briskly, "I'm enjoying it far too much! Now, come on next door and have your coffee, then you're off to your party and I'm off to bed."

"Alone?" asked Hugh, with a laugh.

"Yes," she replied, firmly. "Unless Pete wakes up - he was pretty interested half an hour ago."

Carrying a tray, she came out of the kitchen, followed by Hugh, who turned off the kitchen light. The hall was now in darkness and I crept along to the kitchen, which was illuminated only by the light shining through the frosted glass door of the serving-hatch.

The door was fractionally open, and I quickly slid it along two or three inches. Looking through, I could see Hugh on the settee, and a rear view of Janet stooping over the coffee table, pouring the coffee. Her bottom is one of her best features, and it looked particularly enticing in her short red skirt, at that moment, under these circumstances.

I still didn't know what I was going to do - part of me wanted to "wake up" and walk into the lounge, to stop anything else that might happen, but a darker side wanted the thrill of playing Peeping Tom on my own wife. 

For the moment, I just watched, and listened, but my heart was thumping with excitement and I knew, deep down, I was hoping that something else would happen.

"So you knew he was interested?" said Tom. "How did you know?"

"The way any girl knows, when she's dancing with a man," answered Janet, smiling.

She sat down on the settee, beside Hugh.

"Mind you," she added, "I wouldn't put money on what started him off. It could have been that little tart, Karen, flaunting herself all over the place - or even her mother! Pete had a funny expression on his face when he was dancing with her, early on."


"Was that what annoyed you?" asked Hugh.

"Who said I was annoyed?" laughed Janet, not very convincingly.

"Nobody," replied Hugh. "I just worked it out when I saw the way you were dancing with that guy, Charlie. You were making a point, weren't you?"

"Yes," she confessed. "But I think it was lost on Pete."

"Was Charlie...interested, as well?" asked Hugh.

"You mean...like Pete was...and you?"

"Oh, you noticed that, as well?"

"Oh, yes... Anyway, yes, Charlie was 'interested', but he always is. He lives in the flat above and I've had to fight him off, once or twice."

This was a shock to me and, strangely enough, really annoyed me,

"You always do fight him off, do you?" enquired Hugh.

"Well, yes," she answered, hesitantly.

"Always?"

"Well, there was one time," she said, "but it wasn't what you think. Look, I shouldn't tell you this - you won't tell Pete, will you?" Hugh shook his head - and I knew he wouldn't!

"Well, one evening, when Pete was out, I had a bath and was in my dressing-gown when Charlie came in to borrow something - sugar, or milk, or something."

"And?"

"Well, when I bent down to get it out of the fridge - it must have been milk - my dressing-gown opened a bit and he put his hand in and felt me - on my... breast."

My penis had stiffened and my mouth was dry, as I listened.

"What did you do?"

"Well, there wasn't much I could do. I stood up, but he sort of pinned me against the fridge and ... pulled my dressing gown open, so that he could see. Then he put both hands on my breasts and squeezed them."

"And then what?"

"Then he stood back again, to have another look, and I managed to pull my dressing-gown together and persuaded him to go."

"And how did you feel - after?"

"Well, I was angry, and a bit frightened, but...." she hesitated.

"But?" prompted Hugh.

"Well, when he pulled my dressing-gown open and ... just looked at me, I could have covered myself with my hands, but ... I didn't."

"You enjoyed it? Him seeing you - like that?"

"I really don't know. I knew I should have covered myself, but - well, it was quite exciting, and it wasn't until he tried to feel them again that I pushed him off."

"Lucky old Charlie!” said Hugh, ironically. "How did you feel - afterwards?"

"Oh, I was really shaky, and sort of frightened, at first, and I nearly told Pete, when he came in, but I didn't, and later on, when I was lying in bed, I recalled the expression on Charlie's face when he opened my dressing-gown and it made me excited all over again."

"What did you do - then?" asked Hugh. I saw his tongue run round his lips as he spoke, and realised they were as dry as mine, as we both imagined what we thought Janet might have done, lying in bed and thinking about Charlie feasting his eyes on her uncovered breasts.

But Janet just laughed, and shook her head, her eyes downcast.

Wisely, I thought, Hugh moved on to another tack.

"What did you make of the striptease to-night?" he asked, with an attempt at nonchalance. "You know, that girl - what did you call her? - Karen?"

"Oh, they're a pair - her “’and“’ her mother. Drop their knickers at the drop of a hat!” Janet expostulated, then laughed at the smile on Hugh's face. Emboldened by her laugh, he grinned and said - "Nice pair of tits, though."

"She's nothing special," muttered Janet, but hesitantly, as though she could see how this conversation would inevitably develop, and my scrotum tightened and my mouth dried again as I followed Hugh's line of thought.

He was sitting forward on the settee, cradling his coffee mug in his cupped hands, and, as I watched him, he turned and looked at Janet, thoughtfully. I watched his eyes slide down from her face to the twin mounds in her white blouse, then down to her knees and lower thighs, revealed by her short skirt.

Janet's fingers tightened perceptibly round her coffee mug, and she hunched her shoulders to reduce the outline of her breasts against her blouse.

"Don't do that, Hugh," she murmured, her eyes fixed on his face.

He leaned forward slightly and put his mug carefully down on the table, then leaned back, confidently, his eyes still sliding over her blouse.

"I enjoyed our dance," he said. Janet dropped her eyes, and didn't speak. Her cheeks were burning and her knees were pressed close together.

"Did you let Charlie touch your breasts, when you danced with him?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"Did he try?"

"He always does!"

"Do you ever let him?"

"Just a couple of times, but not for long."

"As long as you let me touch them for - to-night?"

"No," she murmured, shaking her head, her eyes still downcast.

"You liked me - touching them?" 

She nodded, almost imperceptibly, then breathed - "Yes." She darted a glance at Hugh, then took a mouthful of coffee.

"Can I touch them again?" Hugh asked, his tongue running round his lips. His eyes were bright, his breathing short and jerky.

Janet looked down again, then reached out and carefully placed her mug on the low table. Then she sat back in the corner of the settee, her hands in her lap. She looked across at Hugh, her face still flushed, then, like him, wet her lips with her tongue.

Hugh leaned across and, cupping her face in his hands, kissed her gently on her full lips. Her mouth opened and her hands came up and rested on his shoulders. 

Hugh shifted on the settee until he was sitting beside her, then his right hand dropped from her face and gently closed on the swelling on the left side of her yellow blouse.

He squeezed her breast and her fingers tightened on his shoulders. She turned her body a little towards him and her arms went right round him, pulling him towards her. Their mouths stayed locked in a deep kiss and Hugh deftly unfastened one of the buttons on her blouse and slipped his hand inside.

Janet's left hand went up into his hair and pulled his mouth harder down on hers. Her eyes were closed and, gradually, she was slipping down the settee so that she was practically underneath him. 

Still kissing her enthusiastically, Hugh had now freed both his hands and was working his way down the front of Janet's blouse, undoing her buttons, one by one. As I watched, transfixed, he pulled the bottom of her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt, and undid the final button. His mouth still locked on hers, he grasped the lapels and eased the blouse back over her shoulders and down her arms.

She loosened her hands from his hair to help him, and he pulled the sleeves off then eased her blouse completely away from her skirt and dropped it over the edge of the settee. Then he sat back and looked at Janet, now wearing only her lacy white bra above the waist.

Her eyes dropped down to her visible cleavage, then, her face pink, she raised them to meet his and murmured "Well?"

"Take it off," he breathed. Her eyes widened momentarily, then a strange expression flitted over her face. With a shock, I recognised it as the one I had seen occasionally when Janet had taken a - rare - initiative in our lovemaking. It only happened when she was really aroused and was about to do something she considered really wanton and daring.

The last time I had seen it was when, during a really randy session on a one-night stopover in a hotel in Birmingham, she had suddenly gone over to the window and stood, stark naked, looking up at the block of flats opposite. The room was on the fourth floor of a very large hotel, but it was still quite early, and there were still lights on in most of the flats. She lifted her arms, placing her hands flat on the window, and held her pose for a good two minutes.

At last, she turned away, with that look on her face - it was a sly sort of a grin, holding a hint of triumph. She came back to the bed and straddled me, easing herself down on my prick, and she was as wet as hell. While I fucked her, she told me several men had spotted her and had stood at their windows, watching her. She eventually climaxed, noisily, as she began to describe how a black man had put his hand down inside his trousers.......................

I was breathless with excitement as the same sly, secretive smile flitted over her face and her arms went up behind her back. Deftly, she undid the clips, and pulled the straps of her bra off her shoulders, holding the cups in place over her breasts.

Then she dropped the bra on the floor and locked her arms behind her neck, her breasts standing naked and proud, her nipples thick and brown and rigid. She half-closed her eyes, then opened them again as Hugh's hands gently cupped her breasts, rolling her erect nipples skilfully in his fingers. Her head leant back with a gentle sigh, which changed, suddenly, to a gasp as his tongue teased her left nipple.

Her hand gripped the back of his head and she pushed his mouth down on her breast. His hand closed convulsively round her other breast and squeezed it passionately and she gasped again, burying her face in his hair.

My mouth was dry and my cock was like a pole as I watched them through the small opening. 

Janet was writhing underneath Hugh as his mouth greedily sucked on her distended nipple and his hand subjected her other breast to a rough mauling. She threw her head back again, her mouth wide open as her breath shuddered in and out.

Then, with a shock, I saw Hugh's hand leave her breast and probe urgently under her short red skirt. She opened her legs to accommodate him and he pushed the skirt up, so that her stocking-tops and bare upper thighs were uncovered. She arched her back and his fingers pressed against the gusset of her panties. Little tendrils of damp, brown pubic hair escaped the sides of Janet's panties and I watched, a welter of mixed emotions, as Hugh's middle finger pushed the material aside and slid into her ............

Janet groaned ecstatically and, suddenly I knew I had to end this before it went too far. Tearing myself away from the hatch, I rushed down the hall into the bathroom and pulled the cistern. The sound of rushing water filled the bathroom and, I hoped, the flat. 

I closed the door quietly and filled the basin with cold water. My hands shaking with excitement, I scooped up a handful and splashed it on my face and neck. Then I leant on the basin and listened intently. With intense relief, I heard footsteps in the hall, then the front door opened and closed.

Hesitant footsteps approached the bathroom door, then Janet knocked, lightly, and called out "Are you all right?" "Yes, I'm fine," I replied, trying to slow down my racing pulses - and quell the tumescent bulge in my trousers. Taking a deep breath, I crossed to the door and opened it.

Janet's blouse was tucked neatly into the waistband of her skirt, and buttoned all the way up the front, and I was amazed to see that her bra was in place. I thought she couldn't possibly have had time to get it back on again. She looked flushed and her hair was a little out of place but, if I hadn't seen what had happened, I'd never have suspected a thing.

A sudden image of how she removed it, for Hugh, flashed across my mind and a surge of lust gripped me again. I put my arms round her and pulled her towards me. She wriggled a little, seeming reluctant, and, as my hands came up her back, I realised why. 


Her bra was not fastened at the back. 

Again, my cock jumped, and she felt it press against her belly. She laughed, and slipped a hand down between us to take hold it through my trousers.

"Were Karen's tits that good, then?" she chuckled.

"No," I replied, into her hair. "Actually, it was yours that got me like this."

There was a short silence, while she tried to work out what I meant, then she lifted her head and kissed me on the mouth. Her arms went round my neck and her body pressed against mine. Her tongue slithered wetly between my teeth, and I clasped her bottom to me.

"Charlie did that to me, to-night," she breathed in my ear.

"What? Did what?"

"Pulled my tummy onto his cock..."

"Was he hard?” I asked, my mouth dry.

"Yes. Very."

"Was he holding your bum?"

"Yes."

"Did you enjoy it?"

She hesitated. "A bit," she confessed, "but then he tried to feel my... my tits. My breasts."

"Did you let him?" I breathed, but she shook her head.

We kissed silently for a while, and I tried to think how to develop this conversation for my own entertainment. I desperately wanted her to tell me about Charlie and Hugh feeling her breasts - to describe how it happened, and how she felt - but I didn't want to upset her into a denial and a refusal to discuss it any further. Nor did I want it to become an inquisition, with me as the outraged husband and her as the defendant. I wanted it to be part of our lovemaking - a celebration of the excitement we had both experienced as Hugh penetrated her defences.

"Maybe Karen's little show got him going, then?" I suggested.

"I doubt it," replied Janet, with an edge to her voice. "He's been screwing her - and her mother! - since “’last“’ New Year."

This was news to me, but I spotted a possible opening.

"Oh, he gets around then, does he?" I commented.

"Oh, he's very popular round here!"

"Round here?" I said, meaningfully.

"In the block," she said, hurriedly.

"So - not with you!" I challenged, and she shook her head again. I couldn't think how do to develop the conversation. 

Then, without thinking, I took a complete flier and said - "I saw him feel your tits once, at a party." Janet stiffened in my arms, and went very quiet. My heart sinking, I cursed myself for my tactlessness, even as, unbidden, a picture of Charlie pulling Janet's dressing-gown apart in our kitchen flashed into my mind and my cock reared up again.

Janet leaned back in my arms and looked up at me, a puzzled frown on her face. "Why did you get hard again just now?" she asked. I shrugged, sheepishly, and the light of understanding dawned in her eyes.

"Does it excite you?" she asked. My throat clogged up and my eyes slid away from hers. Her hand slid between us and touched my swollen penis. "Pete!" she exclaimed. "You haven't been that hard for ages!"

Then her mouth reached up and she kissed me, pushing her wet tongue between my lips. We kissed for a long time, then she broke it off and said - "Would you like to hear about it?" I hesitated, then nodded, still unable to meet her eyes.

Taking my hand, she led me into the lounge, and pulled me down onto the settee beside her. "Why did you never ask before, Pete?" she asked me, and went on - "I thought you'd be mad at me. I've had terrible consciences at some of these parties, but, once I've had a few drinks and I'm dancing with someone I like, I find it very difficult to stop them. I've always been like that - you remember what I was like with you?"

I did remember. I remembered unclipping her bra-strap outside her back garden gate, after only our second date, and the incredible feel of her soft warm breasts falling into my hands. But it had been a long time before I had got any further, and I had always assumed that I had got that far so early because she had realised she was falling in love with me, as I was with her . . . . . 

"I've always loved having them felt," she murmured. "Ever since they began to grow."

"Tell me about Charlie at the party," I muttered, gathering her in my arms, and she laughed, nervously. "Are you sure?" she whispered. "You won't get mad?"

I looked down at her, and shook my head, solemnly. Then her 'look' began to spread across her face again. "I should have guessed - after that time in Birmingham, when I told you about that black man, watching me at the window, but I was so turned on myself . . .. "

My hand clasped her left breast, through her loose bra, and she shivered.

"I never told you this," she started, "but one Saturday morning, when Charlie came to borrow some milk, I was only wearing a dressing-gown and, when I bent down to get the milk out of the fridge, it opened at the front, and Charlie . . .. well, Charlie saw down it."


New Year's Revelation Ch. 1



"And what did he do?" I asked and, to my surprise, she responded - "Well, nothing, at the time. He didn't even comment, but I knew he had seen a lot because of the expression on his face." 

This was a very different version of events from the one I had heard not twenty minutes before and, at first, I was disappointed, but then I realised I would have to settle for Janet's version of anything she chose to tell me and, if she was a little unsure of revealing the ultimate truth at this stage, then it was up to me to build up her confidence until she trusted me completely. So I held my tongue and waited for her to continue, my hand gently stroking her breast.

"But the party in his flat was that night," she said," and he paid me a lot of attention. And, if you remember it, you probably remember that girl Linda you got so friendly with."

Of course, I realised, Janet thought I had seen her and Charlie, which was why she assumed I would recall the precise party. Now that she mentioned Linda, however, I did recall it - only too clearly. I never did find out who Linda was, but she was a tall blonde girl with a bottom you could have stacked a tea service on, and I had spent several slow waltzes with my hands cupped round her shapely bum, my cock leaving her in no doubt as to my opinion of her greatest asset. Later on, though, she latched on to Charlie's - single - cousin, and I lost track of her.

Mischievously, Janet's hand burrowed down to feel my cock - " I see you remember her, then," she laughed and I murmured, truthfully - " That's not her - it's you!"

"Well, it was definitely her that night," she retorted," and that was why I let Charlie keep on dancing with me - to get back at you. I didn't usually let him have more than one, because he always started trying to feel me up. Actually, to be honest, it wasn't just because of that. During our first dance together, as soon as we started dancing, he said - 'I knew you'd have nice nipples!' Honestly, Pete, it was the last thing I expected him to say - I thought he wouldn't mention it, since he hadn't said anything in the morning."

"Then he asked if I knew he had seen me - that morning - and I said I had wondered, and I had hoped he hadn't, but, inside, deep down, I was all wet and warm! Then he said he had thought of nothing else all day, and he came in close so that his hard-on was up against me and he dropped a hand to my bum to hold me against him."

"I looked round for you and you had both hands on that Linda girl's bum - and your eyes were shut!"

"Then Charlie whispered to me 'I can feel your breasts on my chest - they're lovely - they feel nearly as good as they look!' Then he asked if you liked them better than any other bit of me, and if you felt them a lot, and if you had felt them that morning - and if I liked having them felt! He looked straight at me when he asked if I liked having them felt - and I couldn't meet his eyes! I felt my face going red, and I was absolutely soaking - down there - and it was then that he put his hand on my breast - and squeezed it. And I suppose that was when you saw us . . . . ."

My disappointment was crushing. All this fuss about a single tit-squeeze in the middle of a dance at a party? After what I'd heard only a short time before - after I'd watched her stripped to the waist and sucked and fondled by someone she claimed to not even like!

"Is that it, then?" I muttered, unable to keep the regret out of my voice.

"Oh, no," she breathed, apparently unaware of my reaction. "But that was all that happened while we were dancing. Charlie had tried that before, but I had always knocked his hand away. But this time . . .. I didn't, and he steered me into the kitchen and shut the door behind us. Then he pushed me back against the kitchen door and kissed me. He put both his hands on my breasts and squeezed them through my blouse and bra, then he pulled my blouse out of my skirt, and felt the bare skin underneath."

"Of course, I kept telling him to stop, but the truth was that I had been thinking about what happened that morning, as well, on and off, and, well, I'd been pretty excited all day, knowing I'd be seeing him that night, so when he reached up under my blouse and undid my bra, I was desperate for him to touch my nipples - they were aching!" 

"When he got my bra unfastened, he pulled my blouse and bra up to my shoulders, so he could have a good look - and I could see the expression on his face, which I hadn't seen in the morning! Actually, that was a bit disappointing, because he just stared at my breasts with a very serious expression on his face, then reached out and put his hands on them."

"He just held them for a second or two, then he took my nipples and rolled them between his finger and thumb. Then he squeezed both my breasts quite hard, to push my nipples out, then he bent his head and took one of them in his mouth and teased the tip of my nipple with his tongue. Well, you know how I like that when you do it, Pete - well, it's an extra thrill when it's a different tongue doing it, and I just leant back against the door and closed my eyes, enjoying it all."

"Then I felt someone push against the door and I pushed Charlie away, in a panic, and pulled my blouse back down and raced over to the sink. I just stood there, pretending to wash some glasses - I didn't even turn to see who it was who had come in. Then, after that, the kitchen filled up, and I sneaked out and went up to the bathroom and sorted myself out. And then I came back down and stuck with you the rest of the night!"

"Yes, I remember!" I said - and I did! The lovely Linda had gone off in search of pastures new, and it had occurred to me that Janet had decided to 'protect her investment' - i.e. me, by not only sticking around, but keeping me interested by behaving more sexily than she usually did when we were in company. In fact, I remembered, now, that we had left the party fairly early, and Janet had been half-naked by the time we reached our own flat!

Janet looked up at me, smiling. "Now, be honest, Pete - were you thinking about Linda's bum when you were feeling mine all the way up the stairs?" "I'll tell you that," I replied, "if you tell me whose hands you were thinking about when I felt your tits!"

She went quiet, again.

"Honestly, Pete," she said, eventually. "I know you don't mind, just now, because you're - well, randy, at the moment, but won't you feel jealous - or bitter - when you think about this to-morrow?"

"No," I replied, positively. "I feel that, at last, I'm beginning to find out about your sexuality, and I can't tell you how wonderful it is to do that. I'm so complex in that area, myself, and I had begun to think that you were so straightforward that things were almost becoming boring between us. I mean, you've got a great body and you're terrific in bed - physically - but, with me, imagination and fantasy play a big part, and that doesn't mean I think about other women all the time. I'm still sexually centred on you . . .. " I stopped, unsure how to go on. Then suddenly, I realised I had to be honest with her - well, up to a point.

"Actually," I said, "I didn't see Charlie feeling you that night - or any other night. I just took a chance and said that, in the hope it might start you talking - and I can't say how glad I am that I did! When you were describing what happened, it was the closest - and sexiest - I've felt to you in ages."

It was Janet's turn to fall silent, as my voice trailed off. After a little while, she laughed shakily, and blew out her cheeks. "Wow!" she said

"Wow - what?" I laughed.

"I'm just thinking about how much I'm going to be able to keep you . . . . . entertained, in future."

"You mean - with stories?"

"Oh, yes," she breathed. "You remember I said I loved having my . . .. breasts touched - ever since they began to grow?"

I nodded, my mouth drying as I anticipated what was coming.

"You remember that photo of me – the school one?"

It had to be the one in the sweater - Janet had been an early starter! The bulges in that tight grey sweater would have done credit to a Fifties film star. I didn't meet Janet till she was in her twenties, and living away from her home town, but a girl in my class had developed similarly at an early age and had become extremely popular with all the boys almost overnight! I nodded, wondering what was coming next.

"Well, about a fortnight after that was taken - that was the first time someone touched me - there!"

"Someone - a boy, presumably?"

"Well, sort of!" Janet laughed, a little nervously. "It was a Friday night, and I was coming home from Guides - Girl Guides - through the lane from the bus stop, and I met three boys from my school. I didn't know them well - they were actually in the year below me - but we stopped and chatted a bit and fooled around - then they pinched my beret and started throwing it between them as I tried to get it back."

"Then they started - oh, I don't know - sort of grabbing me each time I lunged at one of them to try to get it." 

"I suppose I didn't really know what was going on, but I was really quite enjoying it, and, of course, they were younger than me, so I was quite confident I could handle them. Then, in one little wrestling-match with one of them, he started to tickle me. Well, that made me sort of helpless - you know how you are when you're being tickled - and the other two started, as well. Well, quite soon, I was rolling on the grass verge, more or less on my back, with the three of them kneeling beside me, tickling my ribs and so on."

"Then one of them touched my breast. I think it was an accident, because he snatched his hand away, at first, but then I felt it again a second or two later and it gave me a little squeeze before it went away again. The others must have seen it, because, suddenly, they weren't laughing so much, and they were only tickling me to keep me on the ground and their hands were touching my breasts more and more."

"And, although I knew they shouldn't be doing that, I wanted them to keep doing it, because - well, I suppose I was enjoying it! So I pretended to be a bit more helpless than I actually was - and I was still confident I could stop them when I wanted to, because they were younger than me! But, after a few minutes, they had forgotten about tickling me and all of their hands were trying to feel my breasts, and I started to panic a bit, and struggle, and tried to stand up."

"That was when they stopped pretending, and really started holding me down - and that was when I realised they could! One of them was practically kneeling on my shoulders, pressing them into the grass, and he told the others to unbutton my shirt! Well, I really wasn't ready for that, and I really started to struggle - but I didn't dare make a noise because I thought I'd be in trouble, too, if anyone came. Despite my wriggling about, they eventually got my buttons undone, all but the top one, behind my tie, but, of course, I had a bra on, and they didn't know how to undo it."

"The one at my head kept saying -'Come on, let's have a look', but the other two didn't have a clue, although they were really enjoying squeezing me through my bra and, despite being frightened, I was still getting a thrill from every touch. Then, suddenly, one of them produced a pocket-knife and started hacking desperately at the material between the two cups. I stopped wriggling about, for fear he'd cut me - and the funny thing is, the first thing I thought about was explaining to my mum how my bra had got cut in two."

"Then, quite suddenly, he cut through the last bit, and pulled the cups away. They all went quiet - all three of them - and just looked at my breasts. It was actually quite dark, but I could see their faces, so I'm sure they could see my . . .. my tits. And that was the first time my breasts were felt - and seen - by a boy!"

"Or boys!" I countered, my hands, once again, caressing the breasts in question, my erection pressing against Janet's thigh. "And did they touch them again - when they were naked?"

"Yes, they did," said Janet. "I couldn’t stop them. But I said I'd tell on them if they didn't let me go, now, and I think they weren't quite sure what to do next, anyway. I'm sure none of them had seen a girl's breasts, like that, before, and they were a bit shocked. There was one other thing, though - as I got to my feet, the one with the knife remembered he had a torch, as well, and they grabbed me again, when I was standing up and shone the light on me. They pulled my arms behind my back and shone the torch on my breasts, sticking out, but then the one holding my arms relaxed his grip so that he could get a better look, and I wriggled free and ran for it!"

"And how did you feel - afterwards?" I asked. "Like - when you were in bed, that night?"

"I know this probably sounds a bit silly," said Janet, "but I was - relieved, as much as anything. I mean, I didn't really know if boys would like my breasts until then and, even though they were quite young, I was glad they hadn't - well, laughed at them, when they actually saw them - bare."

"And, what else?"

"Oh, eventually, I began to think about how it felt when they were touching them, and that made me feel - well, you know!"

"Tell me!" I insisted.

“It made me - moist, and damp!" responded Janet, reluctantly.

"Where?"

"Between my legs", she whispered.

"Did you play with yourself?" I asked, my mind conjuring up pictures of her hand straying down to her slippery vulva, her fingers seeking out her sensitive spots . . . . . 

"Yes!" she breathed.

"Did you come?"

"No," she replied. "I didn't know how to, then."

I sighed with pleasure and, as my hands closed round her breasts again, Janet jumped to her feet – "Come on," she said. "Let's get to bed."

I followed her, my mouth dry with anticipation, wondering what other secrets I was about to hear ...

To Be Continued...

* * * * *

Please e-mail comments.



New Year's Revelation Ch. 2



Naked under the duvet, I lay with my arm round Janet's bare shoulders, her warm, soft palm cuddling my still semi-erect cock, and wondered how to get her to start revealing her hitherto unknown post-marital exploits - always assuming there were any, and that Charlie hadn't been the first to trespass on what I had always assumed was my exclusive territory.  For the moment, I shrank from examining too closely the reasons why the thought of Janet, as my wife, being fondled by another man, was so much more stimulating than her adventures as a single girl - but there was no doubt that it was!

As I allowed my memory to dwell on the recently-witnessed encounter with Hugh, my excitement grew almost unbearable and, as casually as I could, I removed Janet's hand from my hardening penis.  The combination of my thoughts and her nimble fingers would inevitably lead to a premature climax, and I wanted at least one more story before that happened...  

"Jan," I murmured, my hand slipping down over her softly-rounded belly, into the thick cluster of hair above her thighs. 

"Mmmm," she replied, sleepily, and I panicked at the thought that she might be drifting off - without the post-marital barrier breached.  She might feel entirely different in the morning, and pass it all off as just fantasy. 

"When was the first time - you know, after we were married?"

She stirred, then sat up a little and, leaning on one elbow, looked down at me, a worried expression on her face. 

"Pete," she said, then stopped.  After a moment, she tried again.  "Look," she said, "I've never 'done it' with anyone else - you have to know that! I've never been unfaithful to you – well, not completely...  "

"I know," I interrupted, "but you've...  well, like with Charlie?"

"Well, yes," she agreed.  "Are you sure you want me to tell you - what will you think - later on - to-morrow morning?"

"It'll be O. K. ," I insisted.  "This is all separate - this is sex.  I want to know you, sexually - in body and mind!"

She fell silent, again, then relaxed on her pillow and looked up at the ceiling. 

"Do you remember that winter week we had in Spain - the second year we were married?"

"Yes," I breathed, my hand stroking her smooth inner thigh. 

"Do you remember the waiter?"

I thought back - it was all of ten years ago.  I remembered we had had the same waiter at our table all week, but I could not recall his name, or anything else, much, about him. 

Then, suddenly, a picture of a young Spaniard - not more than eighteen - flashed into my mind - quite small and slight, with dark eyes and long black hair.  What was his name? I nodded, anyway, anxious not to interrupt Janet, now she had started. 

"Young chap," I said, aware that I sounded patronising.  Janet laughed, briefly. 

"Jaime," she said.  "That was his name!"

"Yes," I said, but I didn't think I had ever known the boy's name. 

"Well - he was really very sexy!"

"Was he?" I said, in genuine surprise.  I had hardly noticed him, and thought he was just a schoolboy earning some pocket-money. 

"Oh, yes," breathed Janet, reflectively.  "When you weren't looking, he was always making eye-contact with me, then letting his eyes slide down - on to my body, then smiling and looking back into my eyes.  And, often, he stood beside me while you were looking at the menu, looking down my blouse - and sometimes he brushed his - his - front - against my bare arm... "

"You mean - his prick?" I asked, incredulously. 

She nodded.  "Mmmmm", she said. 

"Was it hard?"

"It was - every time he touched me. "

I was really staggered by this - I hadn't had the faintest idea! I could hardly remember the guy at all, and all the time - all the time, what?

"And did it - go any further?" I asked. 

"You remember we had a late flight home - at about one in the morning? And we went for a couple of hours sleep on the last afternoon?"

"Well, not just a sleep," I laughed, the memory of that particular half-hour in our hotel room still very clear in my mind, not least because of the stunning contrast between the tanned and untanned areas of Janet's young, strong body...  She laughed, softly, and gently stroked the underside of my prick. 

"With me - it wasn't even a sleep," Janet said.  "You dropped off immediately, but I couldn't - I think I was too hot, maybe in more ways than one. "

"Anyway, I decided to go down to the pool for a last sunbathe, so I put on my bikini and a toweling robe and left the room, quietly.  I was standing by the lift when Jaime came down the stairs with a bundle of fresh towels under his arm.  When he saw me, he stopped dead and just looked at me.  He wasn't smiling - his face was very intense and his eyes seemed to be burning.  Then he came down the last two steps and went over to the first door on that floor, and opened it, with a master key.  And all the time, he never took his eyes off me. "

"By the time he opened the door, I was trembling - then the lift arrived! The door opened - and I just stood still, looking back at Jaime.  He didn't say a word - he didn't have to! His eyes said it all, and I just couldn't break his gaze and turn to go into the lift.  Then I heard the lift doors slide shut, and Jaime held open the door of the room. "

"I couldn't help it, Pete.  I walked past him into the room and he shut the door behind us.  I walked over to the window beside the balcony and looked out.  He must have put the towels down, because I felt his hands on the shoulders of my robe, then his lips on the back of my neck.  I shut my eyes and leaned back into him, and his hands came round and undid the belt at the front of the robe. "

"Then he stood back a little and pulled the robe back, off my shoulders, and it fell to the carpet.  I didn't move, and he closed in again, and his hands came up and gently squeezed my breasts.  I moved my head round, and his lips came down on mine. "

"We stood, kissing, for a while, then he gently eased me round until I was facing him, keeping his mouth on top of mine.  By this time, both our mouths were open, and our tongues were exploring. "

"Then I felt his hands untying my bikini top.  I felt the strap give way, then he eased it over my shoulders, and caressed my bare back.  Then he stood back, again, and reached out and pulled my top away.  I didn't move – I watched his eyes as they took in my bare breasts.  His face was so young, and serious, and his eyes were very dark brown, and shining. "

"Then he touched my breasts very gently with the tips of his fingers, just stroking my skin, until my nipples felt as if they were bursting! Then he bent down and just teased one nipple with his tongue - then when it was as hard as it could get, moved his mouth to the other one, and took the first one between his finger and thumb. "

"Then he lifted his head away and took both my tits in his hands as he kissed me, again, on my mouth.  The kiss lasted for ages, and his hands on my tits got more and more confident, until he was squeezing them really hard, and flicking my nipples back and forward. "

"Then his body began to press against me, and I could feel his erection against my stomach.  I pushed my hand down between us and held it in my palm, through his trousers. "

"I could feel the knob against my hand and I pressed my fingers against the base, just above his balls.  I started squeezing, then releasing, the base of his cock, then, suddenly, he groaned and I could feel his cock begin to throb.  I gave it one more squeeze, and he started to shake and I began to feel his come as it soaked through his trousers. "

"His hands tightened on my breasts and he buried his face in my neck as he jerked back and forward until, eventually, he went quiet and I put my arms round him for a few moments.  Then I stepped back – I was shaking like a leaf, but I managed to put my top back on, and my robe.  I turned to go, but he said something and grabbed my hand.  Then he bent and kissed my hand – the way they do – and I saw a huge dark stain on the front of his white trousers! I didn't know what to do, so I sort of blew him a kiss, and rushed back to our room!"

"And woke me up!" I recalled – and I did remember her hasty return! How would I have felt if I had known?

"Would you rather I'd stayed with Jaime?" she laughed.  "He had just about got his second wind when I made a run for it, and he'd have been looking for more than a feel of my tits second time around!"

Her constant switching between shy reticence and almost coarse expression was stimulating in itself and, while I couldn't resist calling up a mental picture of the young Spaniard removing Janet's bikini bottom and spreading her thighs apart to receive his hard young cock very erotic, I realised that, in fact, I would find it hard to come to terms with the reality of its having happened.  As it was, the picture of his hands and lips on her breasts became too much for me, and I groaned as Janet's skilled fingers brought me past the point of no return, and my stored-up seed gushed onto her waiting palm...  

From that point on, our sexual relationship blossomed as never before - it was even better than when we had first met.  To me, Janet took on a whole new level of fascination.  Whereas, before, her body - the curve of her breast, a twitch of her bottom, a glimpse of her thigh - had still caught my attention fairly frequently, my interest and excitement was rekindled to new heights as I gradually gained a unique insight into her sexual psyche, learning things I had never even suspected about her - and about women, generally. 

In the process, I was also learning about myself, and trying to come to terms with this strange fascination, almost amounting to a compulsion, for hearing about Janet's encounters with other men - especially the 'illicit' ones where she had been driven by her own urges to do something which, in the cold light of day, she would scarcely dream of doing.  Her impulsive exhibitionism at the Birmingham hotel window had been the first example of this I had witnessed, but I had failed to recognise it for what it was.  Now, I became aware of the stimulus she got from all sorts of apparently innocent displays, and the effect they had on the men who were lucky enough to witness them. 

She liked to see the effect, if possible, and would watch, surreptitiously, as she bent over too far in front of a male guest as she poured coffee or a drink for him, revealing a glimpse down a loose top into the deep valley between her breasts.  Watching his eyes flicker away then, inexorably, back to the forbidden fruit, she would feel her nipples harden then, as soon as possible, would force the tips of her breasts against her blouse, so that the outline of the distended nipple was clearly delineated against the taut material. 

Once or twice, she confessed, she had left the room and removed her bra, then repeated the operation - but only when she really fancied the bloke, or, I was surprised to learn, didn't like his wife!

I also realised that she was attracted to men like Hugh - brash, confident types who made no secret of their desires and who looked at her frankly, paying particular attention to the shape of her breasts and bottom.  Once this dawned on me, I found it easier to trigger Janet into her reminiscences - the mention of a particular name could stimulate her memory - and not only that - into detailed recall. 

I knew, for example, that she had never liked Marion, a near neighbour who had moved away with her husband, Tim, some three and a half years ago.  Of course, part of the reason for her dislike was that I was one of the few people Marion seemed to get on with - and, also, it had to be said, that she had pretty sensational tits, herself.  Not that I ever got to touch them - I didn't think anyone other than Tim did - but she was difficult to look in the face when she was wearing a tight sweater, as she often did. 

In bed one night, I contrived, while we were discussing the mammary merits of female friends, past and present - for our conversations had now reached this new, and, to me, very stimulating, high, since I could always get Janet to describe those she had seen, once she was in the mood - to ask her if she had ever seen Marion stripped to the waist.  She merely shook her head, then went quiet and, for a moment, I wondered if I had really touched a nerve. 

Then she said - "Haven't you?"

"No!" I answered, with a regretful laugh.  "Not a chance - I wouldn't have dared try!" Nor would I have.  For all that she had a very sexy figure, Marion - a schoolteacher - was not the type you took liberties with. 

"You should have," responded Janet, seriously. 

"Oh?"- was all I could think of to say. 

"Oh, yes," responded Janet, her fingers slithering over my stomach to caress my cock. 

"Tell me," I murmured. 

"She and Tim were a lot more sexy - and adventurous - than any of us gave them credit for.  They had a bet that she could get you to take her bra off before Tim got into mine! They were really into fantasy, you know - they had loads of books about sex, which suggested all sorts of things you could do to make it more exciting, without actually changing partners. "

"Like what?" I asked. 

"Well - like we're doing now," Janet replied.  "Telling each other about experiences they had had with other people, and making up imaginary situations with people they knew.  People like us, and the other couples we knew then.  They used to imagine things getting out of hand at those parties we used to go to - with wife-swapping, and so on - and, apparently, one of Marion's favourite fantasies was for you to pick up Tim's car-keys and take her off to a bedroom. "

"And?" I asked playfully, my cock hardening in Janet's warm palm as my imagination ran riot, but she just laughed. 

"I think you can work that out for yourself," she chuckled.  "Anyway, you missed the boat. "

"Yeah, well, it was only fantasy," I said. 

"Mmmm," said Janet.  "That bet wasn't, though!"

"How do you know?" I asked - in all innocence - puzzled that Marion would have confided such a thing to Janet.  And then, as a possible solution dawned on me, my mouth dried and Janet chuckled, quietly, as the sudden hardening of my penis in her hand betrayed my train of thought. 

"Was it - Tim - who told you?" I asked, my hand straying, involuntarily, to the firm warmth of Janet's left breast.  She buried her head in my neck and murmured - "Mmhhmm. "

"Because he - won the bet?" I whispered, hoarsely, my heart beating like a triphammer.  She said nothing, but I could feel the movement on my collarbone as her head nodded in agreement.  Her fingers closed round my erection and her teeth nibbled my ear.  Then she moved her head and looked up at me. 

"Do you want me to tell you?" she breathed.  I took a deep, shaky breath and nodded.  Janet removed her hand from my cock and lay back on the pillow.  Her nightdress was up round her shoulders, and she did not adjust it.  She wore nothing else, and she slipped her right hand down to cover her pubic area.  Her middle finger slid between her thighs and began to move, gently. 

"I went round to their house one day, in the middle of the week, to deliver Marion's Avon stuff.  It was a beautiful summer day and I walked round, with John in the pram.  It was during the school holidays, so I thought Marion would be home, alone, and Tim would be at work.  Well, when I got there, Tim was in bed, with 'flu, and Marion was just about to go out to meet her mother in the city. "

"She was quite short with me, I remember.  She just took her Avon, paid for it, then shot off in her car, leaving me to see myself out.  She was leaving the door unlocked, anyway, because Tim was there.  Well, as I was leaving, I suddenly thought I'd pop up and see Tim, and see if I could get him anything. "

"So I ran up the stairs and called to him as I got to the landing.  He called back - "In here, Janet" - in a pathetic, muffled sort of voice, and I went into the bedroom.  Well, he was in a real mess.  He hadn't shaved for days, his hair was all matted and sweaty and sticking up, and the bedroom stank of stale sweat.  He had obviously had a fever, and there wasn't a window open in the place. "

"He tried to sit up and make himself a bit tidier for me, but he couldn't do much.  The bedroom curtains were drawn and there was very little natural light in the place.  The contrast with the day outside was very marked - and also between him and me! I had had a bath before I came out, then a cold shower, and I was wearing my yellow summer dress.  It actually took a few seconds to get used to the darkness in the room, after being outside. "

"Anyway, I sat on the end of the bed and asked how he was feeling and if I could get him a cup of tea, or something.  I could see he was embarrassed at being caught like this - you know how fussy he was about his appearance - but he was doing his best to be bright and cheerful, under the circumstances.  Anyway, I offered to make a cup of tea and went down to the kitchen to make it. "

Janet went quiet and began to chew her lower lip, lightly.  Her eyes were closed, and her middle finger was no longer visible between her thighs, which were clamped together.  I reached over and gently brushed a finger against her nipple.  Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled up at me, reaching her spare hand up to her other breast. 

"While I was downstairs," she said, " I popped out to check on John, in his pram, and it was just then that it dawned on me that we were alone in the house together - Tim and I.  What I mean is - I knew we were alone, but I hadn't thought about it - that way.  You know?"

'Also, the whole situation, which should have been a complete turn-off, was having exactly the opposite effect on me! Tim being sweaty, unshaven and, frankly, dirty - the smelly room compared with the bright fresh day outside. " 

"Also, I had heard a bit of a scramble just before I went into the bedroom and thought it was just Tim, tidying up, but, as I left to go downstairs, I saw a corner of a magazine poking out from under the pillow.  I couldn't tell what it was, but I had a pretty good idea, and the thought that, if I hadn't called out, I might have walked in on him masturbating gave me a very strange feeling. "

"I was thinking about all this while I was waiting for the kettle to boil and I kept visualising Tim, all filthy and sweaty, with his cock in his hand, pumping it up and down and looking at these pictures of girls and reading these stories.  Then I imagined him bending at the middle as he started to come and catching it all in a Kleenex...  "

"By the time the kettle boiled, I was really shaking and excited, and I suppose - well, I was hoping something might be going to happen.  But I had no idea what.  My mind was racing.  I just got on, automatically, with making tea and setting out cups and things on a tray and I didn't dare think seriously about anything happening, or what I would do, if it did.  When everything was ready, I just picked up the tray and set off upstairs without hesitating.  I made as much noise as I could, so that Tim would know I was coming - I suppose I thought he might be wanking again and I suppose, deep down, I was terrified of catching him at it...  "

"But only because I wouldn't know how to react," Janet added, in a small voice, after a few seconds' hesitation, then laughed, shakily. 

"Anyway, when I got into the room, Tim was sitting up, arms folded...  "

"What was he wearing?" I interrupted. 

"Oh, pyjamas - top and bottom - stripy things, all creased and crumpled.  But he had tidied up round the bed - and the magazine had disappeared.  I started looking for somewhere to put the tray down, but there wasn't anywhere! Tim was in the spare bedroom and there was no room for anything but a bed in there.  So he moved his legs, under the bedclothes, and made a space on the bed for the tray.  It was when I was putting the tray down, carefully, that I saw the bulge under the bedclothes.  There was only a sheet and a light coverlet on the bed, and there was only one thing that could have caused that shape in them!"




New Year's Revelation Ch. 2



"I didn't dare look at Tim, but I knew there was no way he wasn't aware of it.  I tried not to look again and tried to get on with pouring the tea, but my hands were so shaky...  "

Janet stopped talking again, and took a deep breath.  Her left hand was gripping her breast, hard, and it was with a tremendous effort that I maintained only a caressing grip on the other one. 

"Suddenly the teapot felt very heavy, and I had to put it back on the tray.  My hands were so sweaty, I practically dropped it! I put my hands on the bedclothes and wiped the sweat off them - then I reached over and...  and I touched it! I just touched it with my fingers, at first, then I put my hand round it and squeezed it, through the bedclothes.  Then I looked at his face.  His brow was shining with sweat and his tongue was running round his dry lips.  He wasn't moving a muscle and I wasn't even sure he was really taking it all in. "

"It occurred to me that he might be so feverish that he thought it was all a dream, and - I don't know, but it began to seem to me to be a bit unreal - Tim in such a filthy state, in that dirty, smelly room.  It was so squalid! But I felt as sexy as anything! It was all I could do to stop putting my other hand between my legs and squeezing myself.  As it was, I kept pressing my thighs together and getting these floods of warmth. "

"Then I said to him - 'Do you want a wank, Tim?' Just saying it like that excited me all over again and I squeezed his cock, hard.  He said nothing, but he nodded, then pushed the bedclothes down, off his chest.  I let go of his cock and pulled the bedclothes further down - down to his knees.  His cock was still inside his pyjamas, sticking up and stretching the material.  He tried to reach down to release it, but I leaned forward and untied his pyjama cord and pulled his trousers open. "

"His cock sprang out, sticking straight up in the air.  It was circumcised, like yours, and the bit at the top was such a dark purply colour it looked black, and there was a great huge purple vein running down the underside of it.  He had masses of reddish-blonde, curly pubic hair and two big round testicles, tight in his scrotum.  I put my hand under his balls, very lightly, and just stroked the base of the vein on his cock with my index finger. "

"He sort of groaned when I did that, and I wondered if I had hurt him, but then he whispered - 'Janet!' I said 'Yes', and he said 'Can I have a look at your breasts, as well?' 'As well as what?' I asked.  "As well as you giving me a... ' but he couldn't think of a polite word for it. '"

"'Do you mean a wank?' I said, and he nodded.  'What do you mean?' I insisted, and he whispered - '...  a wank!' Then I said - 'And what is it you want to see?' He smiled a little, as the penny dropped.  'Your tits!' he said.  'Show me your tits!'"

"I let go of his cock, and stood up.  As soon as I let him go, his hand travelled down and made a fist round his cock.  'Don't do it yourself, Tim,' I said, and he smiled weakly and let it go again.  I started to unbutton my blouse, from the top, and he whispered - 'That's it, Jan - get your tits out!' My mouth was very dry and my hands were shaking, but I couldn't wait to get my blouse off.  I pulled it out of my skirt and pulled it off my shoulders.  I dropped it on the floor, then reached up my back to unclip my bra.  I stood facing him all the time.  When my bra-catch gave way I pulled the straps over my shoulders and down my arms, but kept the cups in place.  Tim was watching, intently, and his hand was back down at his cock, cupping his balls. "

"Then I eased the cups away from my breasts and dropped my bra on the floor and stood facing him, my hands at my sides.  'Do you like them, Tim?' I asked, and he licked his lips as he nodded.  'Do you want a feel?' I said, and he said 'Oh, yes!'"

"So I lay down beside him, on my side, and he took my tits in both his hands and felt them all over.  He kept coming back to my nipples and soon he was kissing and tonguing them.  Of course, I found myself with my hand round his cock again and I started to masturbate him, slowly.  Then I felt his hand pushing up the inside of my thigh to my panties.  His finger started to push against my crack, where my panties were soaking, and I felt myself starting to come.  I gripped his cock harder and quickened my strokes.  Almost immediately, he started gasping and groaning and I could feel his cock pumping, and I let myself go, too. "

"Even while I was coming, I could feel his sperm hitting my tummy, and then I lost the place altogether.  I think I made a hell of a noise, then just collapsed on his pillow.  It wasn't until I came round that I realised that two of Tim's fingers had actually got inside my panties and were deep inside me! What's more, he had recovered before me and his fingers were already moving around again. "

"I could feel myself getting wet again, but I was worried about John, so I leapt up off the bed and grabbed a dressing-gown off the back of the door and ran downstairs to the kitchen.  I could see John's pram from the kitchen window - he was fast asleep.  I wasn't sure what to do next.  I would have to go back upstairs, if only to get my clothes, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to, now.  Then I heard a sound behind me and Tim walked into the kitchen. "

"He was completely naked, and his cock was half-hard again.  I was horrified and started to tell him to get back to bed, but he said - 'No-one can see into our kitchen, Jan.  Honest! I've had Marion dozens of times in here.  I'm always coming in and getting her tits out while she's washing the dishes!' As he spoke, his cock started jerking up again, and he walked towards me and tried to open the dressing-gown.  I struggled a bit and tried to hold it together, so he took his hands off it and put them on my breasts, through the gown, and squeezed them. "

"Then he said - 'Your tits are a bit smaller than Marion's, but they're a nice shape, and I definitely prefer your nipples.  Your nipples are gorgeous!'"

"I knew he could feel my nipples through the dressing-gown and, when he pulled the lapels apart again, I didn't stop him.  I let the gown slip down off my arms to the floor and let him look at my breasts again.  My nipples were hard again and I was very wet, down below.  I had to look down to make sure I was still wearing my skirt, but it was still there, thank goodness.  Tim saw me glance down, and chuckled.  'Still there!' he said.  'That's a pity!' Then he put his arms round me and held me close to him, my breasts squashed against his chest - and his erection pressed against my belly. "

"He bent down to my ear and whispered - 'I dare you to take your panties off!' I shook my head vigorously and said 'No!' 'Why not?' he said.  'I hardly ever let Marion wear hers in here - anyway, now I've felt your cunt, I want to see it. ' Well, you know what I'm like when I'm feeling like that, Pete.  When he mentioned my 'cunt' I nearly came again on the spot.  He must have caught on fast, because he kept on talking like that.  'I want to see if your cunt's as hairy as Marion's, Jan.  It felt quite hairy when I was feeling you upstairs, and you're so dark...  Marion's got loads of hair, but it's quite mousy.  I bet you've got a really black wide V going up to your waist...  Go on, Jan, give me a look!'

"I hesitated, and he stood back to look at me, putting his hands back on my breasts again.  Then he bent down and kissed my nipples, one at a time.  'Listen,' he said, 'if it makes any difference, how about if Pete was to get a feel of Marion's tits?' 'What?' I said, really shocked, and it was then that he told me about their bet. "

"Actually, I thought it was really weird because he went into a long story about how he would arrange for you to get Marion's tits out while he and I were watching, and what he would be doing to me while you were fondling her, but it was obvious that a lot of the excitement for him would be see Marion's tits being felt by another man.  I didn't realise then how much of a thrill he could get out of another man feeling his wife up...  "

"But you do, now," I whispered, taking her hand and closing it round my cock. 

"He made me do that, too – put my hand on his cock - while he was describing it," Janet breathed.  "He was really hard - just like you are!"

Feeling myself nearly coming, I eased her hand off me again, and asked - "Did you let him take your panties off... ?"

She shook her head, seriously.  "No," she replied.  "To be honest, I think he was getting round to suggesting a bit of wife-swapping and there was no way...  No, I masturbated him again while he was fantasising about you and Marion, and, once he had come, I helped him back upstairs to bed and got out of the house, quickly. " 

"I'd have enjoyed a feel of Marion's tits," I said, then added, because it was true, "and even more if I was watching Tim feel yours at the same time. " And, indeed, the mental picture which was exciting me at that moment was not my hands on Marion's breasts, but Tim's closing round Janet's.  Following that train of thought, I asked, "Did you and Tim ever get together again?"

"No," she replied, quickly.  "That was the only time – with him.  Like I said, I didn't want anything like wife-swapping, or anything like that.  It was bad enough, knowing he was going to tell her what had happened. "

"Did he?" I asked. 

"I don't know," Janet replied.  "I kind of kept away from them after that. "

Then her hand closed round my cock again, and slid slowly up and down the shaft.  She wriggled on to her back, spreading her thighs. 

"Now," she breathed, "what bit would you like to hear again?", as she guided my throbbing prick between her moist, waiting lips... 

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New Years Revelation Ch. 3



Janet's tale of her afternoon with Tim gave me much food for thought – and fantasy – in the ensuing days, and weeks. Despite my excitement at recalling what had happened between them in the bedroom, my mind kept returning to the scene, afterwards, in the kitchen, when Tim had slid Janet's dressing-gown off and felt her tits in front of the uncurtained window. I imagined her hands clasped round his erection while he tried to talk her into removing her panties.

It was a recurring theme in our pillow talk from then on – not surprisingly – and it was obvious to me that she had been on the point of taking them off when Tim blew it by bringing up the possibility – in Janet's eyes, anyway, of wife-swapping. When we relived the scene in bed, Janet admitted that she had been on fire, again, and fully prepared to let Tim pull her panties off, until he had mentioned me getting a feel of his wife's tits, in exchange.

Sometimes, we even pretended she had gone through with it, and that she had ended up with her back to the kitchen sink, legs spread, with Tim on his knees, tonguing her to orgasm as his hands reached up and squeezed her breasts …..

What I never mentioned to Janet was the very deep recess in my mind which harboured the image of Tim rising from his knees and sliding the head of his cock, and not just his tongue, into her. When I thought of this, she was always taken by surprise by his action, and gasped – "No, Tim – you mustn't – please – " but, by then, it was too late and, holding her thighs apart with his knees, he would thrust his hot cock deep into her and, after two or three strokes, with Janet still protesting, would climax with a shuddering moan, shooting his come up her hot quivering passage.

It was only at moments of high passion in our own lovemaking that I allowed this thought to take over. I knew, in reality, I would be devastated if she had let any cock other than my own invade her most secret places.

Of course, I knew she had not been a virgin when we met and, although she was gradually revealing some of the more intimate details of her pre-marital experiences, I still shrank from asking her to describe occasions when she and a previous boyfriend had 'gone all the way'. I was never quite sure why, although, if the truth be told, I was probably, like most men, a bit reluctant to hear how good another man was in that department – especially if there was a suggestion that he might be better endowed than me! Be that as it may, while I enjoyed descriptions of early breast-fondling in the back row of the cinema, and even hands slipping up her skirt and inside her panties, I always fought shy of details of the final act.

In any case, there was no doubt that it was what had happened after our marriage, with its added ingredient of the 'forbidden', that turned me on the most. 

In the November following the New Year which changed our lives, I was filling up the car with petrol and, for an extra pound, bought a 'Poppy' window-sticker, for the Armistice Day commemoration. I stuck on my front window, and thought no more about it, but, when I picked Janet up from her office, she noticed it immediately.

"Oh," she said. "Are they doing these instead of buttonholes, now?"

"No," I said. "They're still selling the flowers, as well."

"Oh, good," she replied. "I'd hate to see them die out!"

I looked at her, in some surprise. I never thought she cared much, one way or the other, about Armistice Day. We never went to any of the church services, or anything.

"I didn't think you paid much attention to it," I commented. 

"Ah, well," she replied, mysteriously. "You don't know everything about me, yet."

I looked at her, sharply. I could have sworn there was a sexual undertone to this conversation, but I couldn't imagine what it could be.

"So, tell me," I demanded, feeling the first stirrings of excitement. "What is it – about you and poppies?"

But she shook her head.

"Maybe later," was all she would say, and I had to be content with that.

I was busy that evening, writing up the minutes of a meeting of the football club committee. Janet watched a bit of television and then had a bath. When I heard the bathwater running, I pricked up my ears. Janet is often very relaxed – and receptive – after a long soak, and my mind returned to our earlier conversation. There was definitely an undercurrent there – I was sure I had spotted a trace of the "Birmingham" look in her expression when she was talking about poppies.

I got up and went to the wardrobe in our bedroom. Sure enough, there was a poppy from a previous year still lodged, a little sad and dog-eared, in the lapel of one of my jackets. I straightened it out as best I could, and laid it on Janet's pillow …..

Janet emerged from the bathroom, glowing and flushed, already dressed for bed, about an hour later. As we had a bedtime drink, I enjoyed the occasional glimpse of her long, bare thigh, as her dressing-gown slipped away, from time to time, from her lap. I amused – and aroused - myself by trying to work out whether she was wearing panties under her short nightdress. Janet knew what I was up to. She enjoyed teasing me in this way, and was pretty good at it. It was a silent game, in the sense that we spoke about other things, while both our minds were concentrated on the 'one thing'!

We cleared up for the night, and went through to the bedroom. I was getting undressed, and Janet had just slipped off her dressing-gown, when she noticed my little 'offering' on the pillow. She gave a low laugh and, picking it up, held it between her teeth like a flamenco dancer. She raised her arms above her head and, clicking her fingers, executed a Latin dance round the bed. It wasn't the greatest dance I'd ever seen, but it did reveal that the only covering beneath her nightdress was the gorgeous dark V at the base of her stomach, and I turned away to conceal my growing erection …..

But you can't hide these things from Janet and, the minute I slipped in under the duvet, beside her, her fingers snaked out and closed round my cock.

"Mmmmm," she said, the poppy still clasped between her teeth. I put my hand on her stomach and slid it down into the damp undergrowth. She murmured contentedly and I leaned over and, with my teeth, removed the poppy from between her lips. Disposing of it, I kissed her. Her response was fierce, her lips mashing against mine, her tongue darting into my mouth.

"Put the light out, Pete," she murmured as she broke off the kiss. My balls tightened. She always had to have the lights off when we talked about her 'exploits'. I reached up and flicked the switch. The moon shining through the curtains showed her face, in shadow, and I kissed her mouth again, gently, as my fingers trailed through her pubic bush. I felt her clitoris – it was prominent, but not erect – yet.

"So," I breathed. "Poppies!"

"Yes," she whispered, suddenly a little shy. "Pete – you're sure about this, aren't you? I know we've talked about – a few things – but this is, well, something new."

"New?" I said. "You mean – recently?"

"No," she answered. "No – something I haven't told you about before. No, it was quite a long time ago – not long after …. the Spanish time."

My mouth was dry, as usual. I felt between her legs. She was very wet.

"Of course it's OK, Jan," I said, reassuringly. "You should know that, by now."

I kissed her again.

"Well," Janet started, hesitantly, "until that Spanish holiday, there hadn't been anything, at all. In fact, until then, I really thought that sex, from now on, would only be with you and I was quite smug about it. I told myself I was glad I had sown my wild oats before I settled down and that I wouldn't need any extra-marital stimulation, but the thrill of that twenty minutes with Jaime was so.. different. With the best will in the world, our married sex life couldn't provide that kind of novelty and excitement! I realised I still wanted that kind of stimulation, but I vowed, after Jaime, not to let it happen again. And I kept that up for exactly three months."

"And then what happened," I asked, breathlessly, wondering which of my old friends of those days had been the beneficiary of Janet's fall from grace.

"Armistice Day!" came the – not unexpected - reply, accompanied by a little laugh.

"Well, I thought it might have something to do with that – but I really can't see the connection. Why Armistice Day?

"Well, it was actually just before," replied Janet. "It was the Saturday afternoon before Remembrance Sunday. You were out playing football and I had just come back from the supermarket. I was unloading the boot and carrying the shopping into the house and a man came round, selling Armistice Day poppies, and he offered to help me carry the boxes into the house."

"He was probably over sixty, but he looked like an ex-soldier, or something. He wasn't very tall, but he walked very straight – you know, shoulders back – and he was wearing a blazer with silver buttons and regimental badge and tie. His trousers had knife-edge creases and his shoes were very shiny – oh, and he had one of these little pencil moustaches – and Brylcreem on his hair!"

"Anyway, I thanked him for offering to, and said I would be grateful for some help. He was standing at the side of the car as I was leaning into the boot to lift up a box, and, I could sense he was taking advantage of me leaning forward to look down my blouse! And, when I looked up at him, he didn't bat an eyelid. He didn't actually say anything, but he didn't try to pretend he wasn't looking, either. And he somehow managed to convey that he was enjoying the view!"

"Anyway, he lifted up another box and said he would carry it in for me. We walked side by side to the door of the entry, but he stood back to let go ahead of him up the stairs to the flat. And, all the way up, I knew his eyes were fixed on my legs, and my bottom! He followed me into the kitchen, then we went back down to the car for the last two boxes. He lifted my one out for me, so I didn't have to bend over in front of him again, but he made sure I went up the stairs in front of him again."

"I could feel his eyes on my bottom – and I could feel myself enjoying it! When we reached the kitchen, he was smiling, but I pretended not to notice. He put down his box and said he would go back down again for his tin and his poppies. I thanked him for his help and asked him if he would like a cup of coffee and he said yes."

"It was while he was fetching his tin that I realised that I'd never been aware of being 'looked over' by a man of his sort of age before. I mean really looked over – as in 'mentally stripped'."

I had to interrupt her, there. "You mean the way guys like Hugh McArthur look at you?" 

"Yes," Janet replied, slowly, reflectively. "Like Hugh – and David Richards – and Mike Snowball – but they're all young, and randy. This was the first time I'd been conscious of a really old guy thinking about what I'd be like – naked – and it was, well, different – and a bit exciting."

I slid a hand up her nightdress and cupped her breast. Her nipple was hard, in my palm. I hadn't ever quizzed Janet about the New Year episode, with Hugh, and she had never come out with anything, herself. I resolved to raise the subject, soon, but, meanwhile, I thought about this old guy, looking Janet over, and I began to feel excitement rising in me, as well

Janet resumed.

"When he came back, I bought two poppies and we sat in the kitchen, drinking our coffee. He obviously thought of himself as bit of a 'ladies' man' – he was full of old-fashioned chat-up lines, but – I don't know – he delivered them almost automatically, as though he knew the difference in age between us was an insurmountable barrier. It was just a habit, really – it was obviously the way he always spoke to women."

"He told me he had had a married daughter about my age, and a son a bit older, but that he had been divorced from his wife for nearly twelve years, and that he was moving, soon, to live with his daughter, and her family – somewhere in Yorkshire."

"He did most of the talking. He was sitting at the kitchen table, and I was on one of those high stools we had. I was wearing a fairly short skirt and I knew he was looking at my legs, and trying to see up my skirt. And, while he was talking, I was wondering what he would do if I - well, did something!"

"Actually, I wasn't actually thinking of anything in particular, but I was more and more tempted to do something – partially to call his bluff, but also, well, I felt as if I wanted to 'give him a treat'. He was really quite a nice man, and I could see he was quite lonely."

"It was when the idea that he was lonely dawned on me – quite suddenly – that I started to flirt with him – to respond to his chat-up lines. He said that, if he had someone at home like me, he wouldn't be wasting his time playing football on a Saturday afternoon, so I said – looking innocent, but not too innocent! – 'Why? What would you be doing?'"

"To be honest, I thought the question would throw him, but he wasn't a bit fazed. He nodded at the bedroom door and said – 'I'd be looking after you – in there!' I gave him another big-eyed innocent look and said – 'Oh, would you? And what would you be doing?'"

"He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out and I could see, immediately, that he wasn't sure what words to use. How to say that he'd have me stripped naked and give me a good fucking all afternoon. I think he suddenly realised he was talking to someone like his daughter, and he just couldn't say these things to her."

"It made me feel a bit guilty – I felt like a prick-teaser, and it wasn't fair. I really quite liked him and I shouldn't have been doing that to him. And, also, I was beginning to feel turned on. I was curious about what it would be like with a man of that age – would he be able to get a hard-on, still? Did his generation know anything about oral sex? – I realised I assumed that, with them, it was always in bed, in the missionary position, with the lights turned off!"

"Then, before I had a chance to think about it, and have second thoughts, I said – 'Would you start off by feeling my tits?' I meant to say 'breasts' but, at the last moment, it came out as 'tits'. And, when I heard myself saying it, I suddenly got really aroused."

"He just looked at me, his mouth open. He obviously thought he had misheard me, or I was just playing a cruel joke on him. His face went red, and he frowned, but he couldn't think of anything to say. That – well – it made me feel even more guilty, but it also gave me confidence. I felt in control, if you can understand that. As long as I made the running, I could stop it when I wanted to."

"So I said – 'Would you like to have a look?' He stared at me, and I slid down off the stool. I was trembling with excitement. 'I mean it,' I said. 'Do you want to see my tits?'"

"He pushed his chair back, and stood up. 'I … yes,' he said. 'Yes, I would like to …..' I started to raise my hands to unbutton my blouse, then I said – 'Would you like to do it?" and he said – 'Yes," and he came round the table. I stood where I was, my back to the table, and he stood in front of me and started to unbutton the front of my blouse."

"His fingers were shaky and he kept his eyes on what he was doing. He didn't try to touch me, at all, and, when he had unbuttoned my front, he gently pulled my blouse out of my skirt, while I undid the buttons at my cuffs. When my blouse was free of my skirt, I pulled it open and pushed it back over my shoulders. He took the hint and gently lifted it away from me and laid it on the kitchen table."

"By now, I was really shaking with excitement and I could feel my heart fluttering. When he had put my blouse on the table, he went round behind me and undid my bra clips. As soon as they were undone, he let them go and came round to face me. My breasts were still covered and he was obviously going to let me make the decision to reveal them."

"I looked at him until his eyes met mine, then I crossed my arms over my chest and pulled my bra away in a single, slow movement and dropped it on the floor. Then I put my hands on the stool, behind me, and watched his face as he looked at my breasts. His expression was lovely – I think it was probably the first time he had seen a young woman's breasts, in the flesh, for a long time. No doubt, he had a stock of magazines and videos at home, for masturbation purposes, but they weren't the real thing. And that was what made me say – 'You can touch them, if you like.' He didn't say anything, but he took a step forward and gently took one in each hand. As he did so, he let out a sigh, and his thumbs rolled over my nipples. Then he bent his head and his lips brushed the skin – he didn't really kiss them, just brushed his lips against the surface, but it was very sexy and I felt myself becoming very aroused."

"If he had put his hand up my skirt then, I'd have let him feel inside my panties, but he didn't and, after a little while, I lifted his head away and he stood back, letting go of me. Then he said 'I don't suppose you'd like to . . . ' and his voice tailed off and he looked down. There was a bulge on one side of his trousers. Well, that answered my question about whether he could still get hard, and, suddenly, the thought of seeing his cock was much more exciting than anything."

"But I wasn't sure what he wanted – I mean, I wasn't going to let him – go all the way with me - so I said 'You mean – with my hand?' and he nodded, and so I said 'All right.' And we stood and looked at each other for a minute, then he undid his zip and took his penis out. It was long and thin – and it wasn't circumcised, like yours. But it was straight, and hard, and I wanted to touch it, so I stepped over and put my fingers round it. He said – 'That's nice. That's very nice.' I started to move my hand up and down and he felt my breast again."

"Then he touched my leg, just above my knee, and stroked my skin and, when I didn't object, he slid his hand up my leg, under my skirt. He touched my panties and I started to masturbate him, properly. His breathing got harder and he pushed a finger inside the leg of my panties and felt the entrance to my vagina. Then he slid it in. His whole finger went in. It went in very easily, because I was very wet. Then I felt his thumb pressing on my clitoris. I was really surprised that he found it so quickly."

"Then he started to come. Suddenly, all this stuff started shooting out of the end of his cock, all over the kitchen floor, but, even when he had finished, he kept on teasing my clitoris and then I came, as well. I hung on to him, gasping and sobbing and feeling his finger right up inside me. I hadn't meant to go that far, honestly – just a quick look at my tits – and here I was with this old man's hand in my panties!"

"What happened then?" I asked.

"Well, I think I was in a state of shock, and he took over, completely. He took me into our bedroom and slowly took off all my clothes and laid me down on the bed. He stood, for ages, looking at my naked body, then he took off all his clothes and we lay on the bed together and he felt me and kissed me all over. I wouldn't let him put his cock inside me – or in my mouth – but I made him come once more with my hand, and once by squeezing his cock between my breasts."

"And what did he do to you?" I asked, imagining how he had felt with his cock trapped between Janet's large firm breasts. By that time, there must have been a lot of lubrication, though, and I thought about how it would have slid easily between her twin mounds, becoming more and more sensitive, until ……

"Well, he kept playing with my tits – with his hands and his mouth. He tickled my nipples with his moustache, then tongued them, then he lay between my legs and did things to my clit that drove me wild! I came much more often than him – at one time, I must have come five or six times in ten minutes …"




New Years Revelation Ch. 3



"His cock was great! It was long, and thick, and it never seemed to go really soft and limp. I know I said I wouldn't let him fuck me, but it wasn't because I didn't want him to! I really wanted to feel his big cock inside me, but – well, I wouldn't do that."

I drew her hand back down to my cock, which was like an iron bar.

"Do you want to feel this one inside you, Jan?" I breathed, hoarsely, and she nodded, taking it in both hands and spreading her luscious thighs as she guided it in. She gasped in pleasure as I pushed my full length inside her.

I nibbled on her earlobes, and she squirmed ecstatically.

"Tell me how you made him come between your tits," I pleaded with Janet, as I withdrew, and thrust into her again – and again – and again ……

 (To be continued) 

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