18 comments/ 146128 views/ 10 favorites Puncture By: ukresearcher Editor: Techsan * I kissed Harry, my four year old son, goodbye, said "Cheerio," to my parents and walked out to my car. It was only forty minutes from home where Sarah, my wife of five years, was waiting for me but half-way there I pulled into a lay-by on a deserted country road and switched off the engine. From the boot of the car I removed a claw hammer, then went to crouch in front of the front near-side tyre. Lest I be accused of sheer stupidity this early in my story, I should point out that I had selected the tyre most in need of replacement. From the pocket of my jacket I removed a single three inch nail and this I very deliberately hammered into the tyre. The time was seven thirty in the evening, not long after the clocks had gone back, so this small exercise was conducted more by feel than by sight. It was at this point that I encountered the first snag in my plan because, although there was a rush of air as the nail went in, the metal effectively sealed the hole preventing any more from escaping. I thought that I had everything I would need placed readily to hand but now I had to root round for a pair of pliers and a torch. Thankfully, using these I was able to wiggle the nail until the tyre began to noticeably deflate. The task complete, I got back into the car and lit a cigarette. I was trembling all over. It was almost fifteen minutes before I felt sure that my voice would betray no agitation but I then dialled my home number on my mobile. "Sorry love, bit of a snag, I seem to have picked up a puncture," I told my wife. "I've an idea it might be a nail so I'm going to have to change the sodding thing. It shouldn't take me too long if the garage hasn't virtually welded the wheel nuts on like they did last time. If Matt gets there before I arrive, try to keep him amused. I won't be very long." I had won my wife on the rebound so to speak. She had been going out with a guy called Terry for almost three years, had been engaged to him for six months and was only three months away from the wedding when he dumped her and married someone else. Sarah's parents were rather fanatical Christians with strict moral views and they had not only brainwashed her with their principles but also managed to leave her extremely naive. I met her only weeks after the end of her romance and, not being the pushy type myself, I was happy to lend a sympathetic ear. We just hit it off and I very quickly realised that I was serious about her. It was at that point that Sarah felt the need to confess to me that, despite her strict upbringing, she was not a virgin. "I had sex with Terry twelve times," she told me. "Before we were engaged I always said 'No' but afterward I felt I had to give him something although my parents would kill me if they knew. The trouble was that Terry was soon not satisfied with just making love and wanted to do all sorts of disgusting things. I wouldn't let him and I also punished him for asking by not letting him have anything the next time we had the chance. Then not long before we would have been married, this other girl turned up pregnant saying it was Terry's and he believed her. She had been in my class at school and had a terrible reputation even then. It seemed he had been having sex with her all the time we were engaged and probably before as well. The upshot was that he married her instead of me. A friend of mine who knows a lot about this girl says that the odds against the baby really being his are roughly five to one." Sarah's relative innocence was irresistibly attractive to me because I was also very inexperienced. I used to be an athlete specialising in the 800 and 1500 metres and all my spare time was devoted to training right from early years at school. I was a champion runner at school and it was this success that drove me to try and take it further. Every night I was out running, doing distance work to build up stamina and fast laps for speed. In addition there were the long sessions in the gym, mainly on weight exercises for my leg muscles. I got as good as I could possibly get but I think I lacked real natural ability because no matter how I tried I was always a couple of seconds off the times that would have raised me to national level and the chance of real money. So when I finally gave up and returned to normal life I was both shy and inept with girls. I did have girl friends but a lot packed me in for 'being too slow' and those that I tried to be more adventurous with wouldn't let me. A friend once advised me, 'Never ask girls if you can do something because they will always refuse - just go ahead and do it. Sometimes you will get your faced slapped but the majority just lie back and enjoy it.' Maybe this friend had the answer but I never tried to put this into practice because it was at this point that I met Sarah. Nowadays from what I hear, girls open their legs as readily as shaking hands (except with me). As I saw it, I stood little chance of ever meeting another girl so nearly 'almost a virgin,' so not liking the idea of having a wife who had done it with dozens of other guys, I asked Sarah to marry me. We were spliced six months to the day from the date of her aborted ceremony. I haven't mentioned that Sarah is very attractive. She also has a lovely figure, is a very good cook and has a modest, very loving nature so by all normal criteria I was an exceptionally fortunate man. Being married was heaven and I honestly believed that the cuddling, kissing and making love were all that I could ever want. Some might say that we were like kids playing house and had we had a more adult approach to marriage it is likely that Sarah would not have fallen pregnant so quickly. The traumas of a new baby are well-documented and I have to say that Harry was far from an easy child. Even when the tiredness of broken nights had receded into the distance, Sarah never seemed to stop wearing her 'mother' head. For example, we always had our bedroom door open so that we could hear him in his cot but then Sarah became bothered when it came to lovemaking for fear that he could hear us. It was because I felt neglected that I bought a PC and of course, once I had one, I gravitated to the Internet. For a long time I was perfectly happy flicking from porn site to porn site, taking all the free tours. Looking at all the pictures certainly got me very aroused but believing that to masturbate would be disloyal, I finished up in bed feeling even more frustrated. Then almost by accident, I finished up on a site with a vast library of erotic stories and what I read was a revelation to me. It was 'all that you want to know about sex' and I was astounded to realise how little I actually did know. I learned one hell of a lot but my most galling discovery was to see how very restricted my own sex life was compared to the fortunate men who were featured in the stories. I never saw my wife naked and she always wore a cumbersome nightie in bed. I could play with her tits as much as I liked but her cunt was a very different matter. She did not refuse to let me touch her there completely but invariably kept her legs so close together that the most I could insert was one finger and that not very far in at all. When it came to actual copulation, the old missionary position was 'the only decent way to do it' and even here you might have thought that she had a physical disability which prevented her legs spreading very wide. Generally in the middle of the act she panted a little bit and for five years of marriage I was able to convince myself that this was an orgasm. Now had Sarah been unquestionably frigid my only option would be to settle for a puritan home life and find my sexual kicks elsewhere but I had good reason to believe that this was not the case. You see, Sarah had dreams of a definitely erotic nature. She always denied dreaming when I questioned her but her behaviour in bed when asleep left no doubt in my mind. At some point during every night that I managed to stay awake, she went into dream mode and sometimes her thrashing legs awakened me even when I had drifted off. When dreaming, Sarah put her hands behind her head and lay with her legs so far apart that it was almost the splits. Then, for sometimes as long as an hour she would breathe heavily, groan and move her pelvis in an unmistakable rutting motion. As final confirmation, those times that I dared to tentatively sneak my hand between her legs, I invariably found her twat to be extremely hot and wet. Is it any wonder I became convinced that I was married to a sexual powerhouse trapped inside a lovely but brainwashed exterior? The question was how to jolt her out of the straight-laced prison that her parents had built around her. One night, inspired by an internet story and remembering the maxim ' Do - don't ask', I crawled up the bed and forced the head of my stiff cock against my loved one's lips. Sarah angrily pushed it away shouting, "Don't tell me you are turning into another pervert like Terry - that is exactly the kind of filthy thing he always wanted me to do." Another night when my wife was in the midst of a right royal shagging session with her personal incubus, I tried to replace the seductive sprite with my own very stiff organ. The trouble was that Sarah woke and in the transition from sleep to wakefulness she switched instantly from wanton to puritan mode. "What do you think you are doing, Alan?" she scolded, " - you know very well that this is not one of the nights I let you do it." Less adventurously, I often took advantage of her dream state to get my hand between her wide flung thighs. Several times I managed to work up to three digits inside her juicy twat and enjoyed the sensuous pleasure of feeling her unknowingly humping my fingers. The big snag was that if I was too rough or did things too suddenly she woke up to tell me that I was technically guilty of assault. My claim of being asleep myself cut little ice for Sarah simply said, "I don't care if you are awake or asleep, if I can't go to sleep without fear of being molested then it is time to seriously consider having separate beds." Attacking on a different front one evening at no little expense, I brought home a pornographic video but the moment that Sarah realised what it was I was forced to immediately remove the offensive cassette from the house and return it unseen to my source. I decided that the problem lay with me or the inevitable effects of marriage and familiarity. If you would secretly like to do something but had big reservations, it had to be hard to try it for the first time with someone who you would be walking round a supermarket with the following morning. On the other hand it must be far easier if you would either never see that person again or only in a similar sexual context. The inescapable conclusion of this line of logic was that I needed to introduce a third person into the equation. One evening when Sarah was in a good mood, I gradually worked round to the subject of wife swapping. "What would be the point?" she asked with genuine puzzlement. I decided to lay my cards on the table. "I think that we could get a whole lot more pleasure out of sex than we do," I told her frankly. "I do see though that after so long it is hard to suddenly start doing something different even though we might both secretly fancy the idea. With strangers we can try whatever we like with no recriminations because we never need see them again." "But where does love come into it?" "It doesn't. Love is what we are sharing now, darling, sitting here happily with our boy asleep upstairs. Sex is the pleasure that can be gotten from the body and I'm sure that we have no idea what we are missing. Sex and love can be combined but it is not at all necessary." Sarah sat quietly and for a fantastic few moments I thought she was considering what I had said but then she shook her head. "No - this is just a trick to let you have it with other women and get them to do those things that I am too shy to try." Despite my disappointment I got a boost to hear that it was shyness rather than distaste that inhibited her. "You're wrong," I said. "It is not necessary for me to go with the wife - I would be satisfied just for you to have sex with the husband. That is what real love is - I would be happy for you to have sex with another man because I know you would get a lot of pleasure out of it. I really wish you would." Sarah just said, "You really are a very strange man," to terminate the discussion but I took heart from the fact that I had managed to bring up the subject without her getting angry. A few days later in a public convenience, one of the items written on the wall read, 'I will fuck your wife while you watch'. This seemed to be the answer because, with no other females involved, I could not be suspected of ulterior motives - so I rang the number provided. I was very impressed by the businesslike way the guy on the other end conducted the conversation because I felt it showed he had done this sort of thing before. Without asking for names he enquired about my situation and then listed his own virtues, cock length, stamina and specialities before stating what he would not do. Ruled out completely was any involvement by me. I said that I would think about it but almost promised to ring again. However, driving home, the very obvious truth struck me - Sarah was far less likely to do things with a stranger but with me watching than she would with me by myself. So another great plan bit the dust. It was so frustrating because all that I needed was a single spark. But then the word 'spark' struck a chord and I kicked myself for not having thought of it sooner. I knew a guy who was perfect for the job. Before explaining I will digress to mention a conversation that happened at my office. We were discussing the TV program ER when one chap said, "I am usually very jealous but if I found out that my wife had enjoyed a fling with that George Clooney, I don't think it would upset me at all. Part of the reason is that he comes over as a really nice guy but the main thing is that I could understand why she did it." Now Matt Greenboro, softly spoken and coincidentally also an American, is not quite in that league of good looks but if people were sorted into boxes, he would certainly finish up in a box not too far from the film star. Although from the USA, Matt had lived in this country more or less permanently for the last five years. The previous year he had been at the firm where I work for three months putting in computer systems and during that time I struck up a good rapport with him. He wore a very wide band wedding ring and when I enquired about his wife he laughed and told me that he was not married and only wore the ring as a ploy. Later on I asked how he managed to have a sex life as he was constantly moving about the country with three months here and three months there. "I seduce young married women so the moving about suits me perfectly and that is where the fake wedding ring comes in," he said. I immediately queried this, saying that I thought a wedding ring would handicap seduction and anyway, surely young married women were the hardest category of females to seduce. Matt grinned and told me the following. "First, the ring gives them a false sense of security, especially when I lay it on how happily married I am. It hides the fact that I am coming on to them until it is too late. Seducing young married women is actually as easy as plucking ripe fruit off a tree providing that you choose the right ones and are prepared to spot the potential behind unwashed hair, no make-up and sloppy clothes. I specifically target mothers whose only or youngest child has just started school. When a couple first marry they fuck like rabbits until the wife gets pregnant and then it all changes. There are broken nights, shortage of money and the wife is responsible for the child all day every day for the next four years and that is extremely tiring in itself. "Eventually the child starts school and the young mother finds that she has six hours every day to herself. At first she welcomes the freedom but with no established pattern of activity for the new situation, it is not long before she starts to get bored. Around this time she begins to feel like a woman again instead of just a mother but has no motivation to do anything about it. Hubby is no help because he has been on short rations for so long that he has forgotten that life was ever any different so he just keeps his head below the parapet and carries on in the same sweet way." "Enter the seducer," Matt said dramatically but lessened the effect with a cheeky wink. "In the morning I go along to a junior school and stand amongst the mothers and children waiting to be let into the reception class. Having picked my target I find something to enthuse about in her child and this invariably leads to an exchange of pleasantries and I am asked if I have a child in that class. At that point, I look embarrassed and admit that I am standing there under false pretences, explaining that I miss my wife and two kids back in the states whom I have not seen for three months. I say that watching other small children eases the pain and then I generally flash this photo." The snap that Matt showed me had himself and a rather attractive woman posed with each balancing a small child on their knee - it looked a very happy family group. "It's actually my sister and her kids but it has earned me one hell of a lot of sympathy over the years," Matt grinned, his disarming smile seemed to lessen the cynicism. "So they say, 'You poor man, I must take you home to bed and make you feel better,' do they?" I quipped. "I don't work quite that quickly," Matt admitted. "The following night at home time and every night until I spot her, I hang about outside the school gates. When I see the mother I have zeroed in on, I just wave and say something about not being able to stay away from the place. Nothing more - it sounds like a small thing but in some strange way it establishes the fact that we know each other. So the next morning outside the classroom I can quite openly approach her and start talking. If she has smartened up or put on some lip-stick I know right then that I am on to a certainty. When she has handed young Johnny or Sue over to the teacher I suggest that she might like a coffee. Alternatively if the weather is bad and she has not got transport I offer a lift and bring up the subject of coffee en route. Very few refuse and a lot, not wanting to be taken somewhere smart in their scruffs, prefer to take me to their homes for the coffee. Even those who are cautious the first time take me home with them the next. A psychologist recently claimed that he could take any reasonably compatible man and woman at random and put them in a situation where they would inevitably finish up screwing. His law states that 'the availability of opportunity makes sex irresistible'. It works. I know because having made first base I've never yet come away without scoring a home run. The fact that I am always moving on is a big help because it does away with any fear the woman might have about getting stuck with an involvement. I also reckon that I do the husband a big favour because I put a spark into their sex lives that would have possibly taken years to burst into flame otherwise - if ever." "Are there any women that your conscience would not let you seduce?" I remember asking. "None at all. What is there to feel guilty about? As I said, I'm convinced that I actually do the husbands a really good turn." As I said, that conversation occurred a year previously but the significant fact was that Matt was back at my firm and half way through a new three month contract putting in a new small system and updating the earlier one. Matt was the ideal solution and the only problem that remained was working out exactly how I was going to introduce this temporary colleague into my wife's bed. Puncture After a great deal of thought I came up with the following elaborate and very expensive plan. It was Sarah's twenty-sixth birthday and I laid on a surprise dinner party having found a catering firm prepared to turn up at the house and serve a slap up meal for four. I made the booking only after Matt had agreed to be a guest and a girl from work that I get on rather well with said that she would make up the four. There is an ongoing frisson of attraction between Claire and I but she had a fiancé working in Saudi Arabia that she was determined to remain faithful to. To set the scene I got my parents to take Harry for the night and talked Sarah into dolling herself up in the belief that I was taking her out on the town. The evening was a resounding success. First Matt arrived and I had barely completed introductions when a taxi deposited Claire at the door. Then we had just enough time for a relaxing drink all round before the caterers arrived with what all agreed was a fabulous meal. With the table cleared, we settled down to a convivial evening of music, dancing and desultory conversation. Although we did swap partners, I did most of my dancing with Claire and it was very smoochy dancing at that. This was deliberate and I was pleased to see that Matt had quickly followed my lead without any noticeable resistance from Sarah. Eventually the evening drew to a close and when our guests had gone my wife gave me a very big kiss and thanked me for giving her a wonderful birthday. "Did you have to monopolise Claire quite so much though?" she asked as the sting in the tail. "Claire asked me to," I lied. "She said that if she spent too much time with Matt she felt he could easily get her to do things she didn't want to do ". I paused for a moment and then went on with a grin, "She then confessed that she actually wanted to do those things with Matt but knew that her fiancé would not be too happy about it if she did." For the first time that I could remember, Sarah smiled at a sexually oriented joke. Prior to bed we sat on the settee holding hands, overcome with that after-party lethargy. My mind was busy going through the machinations of my master plan when Claire asked suddenly, "Have you had sex with Claire?" "No, I haven't, but I would like to," I told her honestly. "The only thing that stops me is knowing that you would be upset. I can't see anything wrong with two people taking pleasure in each others bodies - as I said, sex has nothing to do with love." Now this was all purely theoretical and in addition it was a philosophy that I did not actually subscribe to. My words were simply an attempt to get my wife into the right frame of mind for what I hoped was going to happen. I reinforced my message by saying, "If you ever do get tempted, remember that I don't mind what you do. In fact I would want you to enjoy yourself." In bed Sarah was far more relaxed than usual but I did not know if this was due to the drink, the erotic dancing with Matt or simply my reward for giving her the party. I waited a full fortnight before inviting Matt for another evening and was pleased to find my wife very amenable to his return visit. This time I did not ask Claire - I said that I had but claimed that she was unable to make it - but once again I arranged for my parents to mind Harry. The previous night I concealed a long-handled wrench in the boot of the car and I then stopped to use it the next morning on the way to work to ensure that the nuts on my selected tyre could be easily undone. An hour and a half before Matt was due to arrive I was strapping Harry together with his night-time toys into the car ready to take him to my parents when Sarah decided that she would come with us. "Better not, love," I urged using every bit of persuasion that I could muster. "Stay and make yourself extra pretty instead. Matt might turn up early and if there is any kind of snag on the road it would be terrible if he arrived to find an empty house." So there I was sitting in my car having deliberately punctured the tyre. Having given Sarah the bad news I efficiently changed the tyre and then waited until thirty minutes had elapsed since my first call. "It is just what I was afraid of - the wheel nuts are rock solid and the flimsy car jack handle is no damn use at all," I said when I rang again. "I've contacted the AA but it seems there are a lot of lone women drivers in trouble tonight and they are given priority. I also get the impression that they don't think a lot of male drivers who can't change their own wheels. The bad news is that it is going to take at least two hours before they get round to me." "Can't you ring a taxi to bring you home?" my wife suggested. "I could but I don't want to find the car stripped or gutted tomorrow. I would far rather stay with it." "But what am I going to do - Matt has already been here for twenty minutes," Sarah asked plaintively." "You will just have to entertain him until I get there," I said unsympathetically. "You know chat, make conversation. Why don't you dance with him? You looked good together last time." As soon as my wife had reluctantly rung off, I started the engine, drove to a pub I had spotted and spent the next two hours drinking non-alcoholic beverages. During this time with my mind filled with images of what was probably occurring in my home I got very aroused - but there was also a surprisingly large degree of hurt in there. I steeled myself with the thought that the sacrifice would be well worth while if it had the result that I hoped for. Before leaving the country inn, I rang home to warn that I would be back in half an hour. When I walked in, Sarah and Matt were sitting an unnatural distance apart. In addition both had an awkward self-conscious posture that tried to proclaim, 'We haven't been up to anything, honest.' My wife was looking very flushed and my colleague became unusually jocularly verbose, finding it necessary to remind me of amusing incidents that had occurred at work. In theory I had missed less than half of the potential evening but not long after my arrival, Matt stood up claiming a very early start the following morning and although I tried to dissuade him, Sarah remained singularly quiet. On this evidence, I quietly congratulated myself on the apparent success of my plan but did not experience quite the degree of satisfaction that I had expected. I filled the time before bed by talking at length about my imagined problems with the breakdown service but did this to excuse my wife from giving any account of her evening. In the bedroom I looked set to reap the first fruit of the engineered evening when Sarah grumbled that it was far too hot for her heavy night-dress and slipped into bed naked, even though she had worn the garment in all weather for the previous five years. However my hopes were immediately dashed when she murmured the dread words, "I'm feeling rather tired," indicating that there was no fuck for me on the menu. But then, surprise surprise, without being asked she reached out and played with my cock until I came - it didn't take very long. Not having counted on the amount of grief that my wife's suspected infidelity was causing me but believing that she had been given the spark which had been the object of the exercise, I would have preferred for it all to end there but realised I had to let the events that I had started run their course. The consolation was that Matt had less than a month before he moved on to pastures new. I also knew that on two days every week he worked for another firm at premises that were too far away for him to conveniently make secret visits to my house. That left only three days when he would be in the area and on one of these days he would spend the morning working with me. My obvious counter on those days was to take Matt out to lunch and delay so that there was little time left before Sarah had to pick up Harry from school at 3:20. It couldn't be helped - the man was certain to enjoy another four sessions between my lovely wife's legs but my reward would be a lifetime of enhanced sexual pleasure. In bed I had resolved to take things gradually and not just jump in expecting an immediate fully fledged sex life but almost from the start Sarah was putting more on offer than I had been prepared to try for. We started having sex with the light on and she took to walking around only partially dressed, deliberately flaunting her body. Then towards the end of the first week, quite spontaneously, Sarah scrambled down the bed and took my penis in her mouth. I actually finished off between her legs that time but this was the start of a whole new area of sexual activity. The very next day, at one point she was lying with her legs spread very wide and I was gazing hungrily at that moist pink slit in its nest of soft hairs, wondering if I dared when she opened her thighs even more in unmistakable invitation. Now this may be imagination but as my eager mouth moved forward to gobble her that first time, I would swear that the lips of her twat formed into a definite 'O'. Although I have sucked her cunt many times since then, I must admit that it has never happened again. Ironically, the nearer I got to the sex life I had always hoped for the more I resented having to share my wife with the serial seducer. Those afternoons that I knew my wife was entertaining I suffered dreadful jealousy and got so knotted up inside that I became incapable of doing any work. Even after Matt had safely moved on, I could not escape the jealousy of knowing he had screwed her until I did some rationalising that put things into perspective. I added the times Matt had been with Sarah to the known number of sex sessions she had indulged in her ex-fiancé and then asked myself how many men these days had a wife who had been fucked so few times by other guys. As the weeks passed, things just got better and better. To my inestimable pleasure, Sarah progressively played the roles of nymphet, sex kitten, strumpet and whore. She was constantly coming up with new things to try and I marvelled at where her marvellously lewd imagination could have sprung. My wife's new appetite both for sex and innovation certainly outstripped mine and I should point out that it was at her specific invitation that I first stuck my dick up her rectum. My prediction that she had the potential to be a sexual dynamo was spot on and, as evidence of this, I can say that it got so that every night she was already very wet from the first moment I touched her. I have no idea if she still dreams because every night I sleep the sound solid sleep of the sexually sated. One Sunday afternoon with Harry safely at his friend's house, I was lying stretched out on my back on the bed. Sarah was squatting above me and moving herself enthusiastically up and down on my cock, giving me the double pleasure of sensation combined with the sight of her lovely bouncing breasts. Pausing for a rest she sank down on her haunches, cupped her breasts to plump up the nipples with her thumbs then stretched both arms exuberantly into the air to say happily, "Oh, God, I do like to fuck. You are clever, Alan, because you knew I would all along." I smiled complacently, unable to suppress a justified feeling of self-satisfaction. Sarah looked at me with a kind of little girl coyness and added significantly, "And you're not the only one that I have done it with." She said it as if expecting that I would be as thrilled by her announcement as she obviously was. Now I was ahead of the game but, deciding to play it obtuse, I said, "I know, you told me all about Terry." My wife giggled. "I don't mean Terry. Anyway I've realised lately that what I did with him wasn't really proper fucking. No, I'm talking about much more recently." I did a big production on looking puzzled and then asked doubtfully, "You don't mean to say that you did it with Matt?" Sarah nodded gleefully. "Nine times. When I say nine times, I don't mean just nine fucks. I've been with him nine times altogether but we fucked a lot more than once every time." Now I was a bit peeved to hear this because, according to my calculations, they should not have been able to get it together more than five or six times. I also suffered more than a slight twinge of jealousy to know that they had managed such a quantity of humping. Oblivious of any upset showing on my face, Sarah went on, "It started the night you had that puncture that made you so late. I didn't know what the dickens I was going to talk to Matt about so I did what you suggested and put on some music. He was very happy to dance and pressed really close to me. It felt so warm and good. I could feel his dick digging into me and that made me even more excited. I was feeling terribly guilty at the way he made me feel so I suddenly broke away and dashed into the kitchen saying that I was going to make some coffee. "He followed me through and coming up behind he breathed hot air into my ear and said, 'You really are gorgeous.' His words made me go all weak at the knees and I kind of sagged back against him. He had got his arms round me; squeezing my tits and making my nipples feel as if they were going to burst through my sweater. I could also feel that his cock was very stiff because it was poking right into the crack in my bum. My body knew what it wanted to do and I did not know how I was going to resist but then I remembered you saying that you wouldn't mind if I had sex with someone else. I even remembered you saying that you actually wanted me to and for a silly moment I half believed that you had not had a puncture at all and had set up the evening just so I could screw your pal. At that point I turned towards him and as I did so he somehow unclipped my bra though the sweater and got the other hand up under my clothes to grab my tit. We started kissing and I was rubbing the front of his pants trying to work out how big his cock really was. By that time we were both getting really frantic. I pulled my tights and knickers down but not completely off because while we were fucking I still hand them dangling from one foot. His penis was in me before I knew what had happened. Matt had just picked me up and started fucking with me balanced on the edge of the kitchen table. He had hardly started when I seemed to explode inside. It was like a really massive internal sneeze with all kinds of fireworks going off. Matt later explained that it was my first orgasm. Until that marvellous moment I hadn't realised that women could actually cum." Having said her piece Sarah started moving up and down again but had to stop. My cock inside her was still big but it had lost a lot off stiffness so realising this, she settled back and went on, "We managed to do it another two times in the sitting room before you got home. The first time was on the settee - it's a good job that it is made of leather because a lot of stuff leaked out of me and made quite a mess but I was able to easily wipe it using a tea towel. Then he fucked me again on the floor. This time I spread the tea towel underneath my bottom but it must have got rucked up while we were shagging because afterwards there was a stain on the carpet that I had to hide by spilling a glass of wine over it. The following Monday, Matt called during the day and another two times that week. We screwed again on three occasions the following week but only two the last week. One of our sessions each week was about an hour shorter because Matt came to me straight from having lunch with you and he grumbled that you would keep him talking. You might like to know that it wasn't just fucking that I did with him. Matt wanted to do all the same stuff that both you and Terry tried on me and I can see now that I was very mean with the pair of you because you were dead right, Alan. I loved doing it and I didn't feel at all rotten afterwards. Usually I took him up to the guest bedroom but a couple of times we did it in the bath. You won't believe the stuff that is possible in the bath, which sounds disgusting to say but is really fun to do." Hearing all this my dick had shrivelled up and now ignominiously just popped out of her cunt. I had been more than happy for Matt to provide the sexual spark but I had not counted on him racking up all the firsts in the process of my wife's sexual awakening. With a puzzled glance down at my miserable organ, Sarah climbed off me and with her first expression of doubt asked, "Are you sure that you are happy about me screwing Matt?" "Oh, yes," I said and then, more in an effort to convince myself than her, I began to extol the benefits, "Look at the difference it has made. Our sex life is fantastic compared to how it has been since we got married." "I agree. I'm so glad that you put the idea into my head and said I could fuck other men." Mainly to stop her continuing to stress that it was my entire fault, I suggested that we should get up for a cup of coffee. Sarah started to move but then stopped and said, "I was hoping to tell you about Brad while we were still in bed." "Brad. Who the fuck is Brad?" I gasped. "He's a guy that Matt brought with him the last time that he called. He said that they have been pals for ages and he sometimes passes his girlfriends on when he has to move to another part of the country," Sarah innocently informed me. "Brad is a bit older than Matt, not as tall and quite stocky. I never said but Matt's cock is about an inch longer than yours where Brad is the same size as you but quite a bit thicker. It was strange at first being in bed with two men at the same time but I soon began to see that it is the best arrangement of all. There was no filling in time at all because I always had at least one stiff cock to amuse myself with. You know, I'm sure that it's going with other men that keeps me sexy for you." "But that was over two months ago, you haven't been with him since have you," I asked, knowing that it was a vain hope even as I asked. Sarah shook her head. "It is two months since I took both of them on at once but I have been seeing Brad twice a week ever since - every Tuesday and Thursday. I counted up and he has now shagged me more often than Matt. He doesn't care much for sucking my twat but he likes sticking his cock down my throat just as much as Matt did. Altogether he is less fun than my first lover but I can count on him for a good hard shag every time and he makes me cum loads of times. Whenever I mainly only suck you off at night, it's usually because Brad has made me sore during the afternoon. Oh, yes, he really likes to do me doggie fashion and I've decided that I like it that way a lot too." Trying not to sound agitated, as clarification I asked, "So two nights every week when I get home you have already had sex?" "It was only two nights until I got involved with Eddie." "Eddie?" "The paperboy." "The paperboy," I repeated incredulously, "But he is only fifteen or sixteen for heavens sake." "I know he only looks young but he was eighteen the day it first happened. It was partly because he said it was his birthday that I decided to give him a day to remember. The day was a really hot one and I was sunbathing in the back garden. I was in the arbour and because I could not be seen from anywhere I had taken off my bikini top. Well, Eddie came wandering round the back of the house. He was delivering leaflets instead of his usual newspapers. When he saw me he just stopped and stared but the front of his pants were like a tent." "I looked at it and asked how old he was and when he said 'eighteen today,' I told him that he was a big lad for eighteen. He may have been young but his cock turned out to be only a bit smaller than yours. He just stood there not knowing what to do so I said, "You seem very hot and bothered Eddie. Why don't you come back for a lemonade or something when you have finished your deliveries.' He went then but was back within ten minutes. His bag had been almost full so I don't know what he did with all his leaflets." Puncture At this point I could not contain my dismay any longer and interrupted to say, "I don't understand how you could even consider doing it with a teenager." Sarah laughed, "Don't be silly. It was fun rather than real sex although I will admit that, by the time he came back that day, I was starting to have my own reservations. I could not remember what the age of consent was for boys but at the back of my mind was the idea it was eighteen instead of the sixteen that it is for girls. I had put my top back on and decided to just give him the promised lemonade and send him away but the trouble was that tented front to his pants. He was wearing loose fitting jogging bottoms and it turned out there was not any underwear and that's what made the effect so spectacular. While Eddie was sipping his drink and staring at my tits I walked past and brushed him with my hand. It was just curiosity to see if his prick was really as big at it looked but this was a bad mistake because the instant I touched him he ejaculated without any warning. That's the thing about Eddie, he's extremely trigger happy but the good thing is that he can cum over and over again and his cock is never not stiff for long. Anyway, I was a bit ashamed of what I had done so I told him to take off his track suit bottoms, saying that I would clean them up for him while he finished his drink. I used a sheet of kitchen roll but before I had finished his cock was already sticking out like a signpost even though he had cum only moments before. It turned out to be not that big. As I said it was just a bit smaller than yours but it still looked very nice. I decided that the least I could do in the circumstances was to let him have a quick fuck but that was easier said than done and it took several attempts before he got it in me for any length of time. He still constantly squirts off all over the place even though I have been to bed with him quite a few times now. Just trying to put his cock in my mouth isn't easy because I often get a load in my face or all over my tits. She laughed, "And when I lie back and open my legs for him, I am never surprised to feel his spunk splatter against the inside of my thighs before he gets it anywhere near." After she said that Sarah continued to laugh as though it was hilarious but I remained a long way from being amused. "I took Eddie to the same bedroom I use for Brad but soon found that I had to spread two bath sheets on the bed instead of just one," my wife went on. "I didn't make any arrangements to see Eddie again that first Friday but on Monday I spotted him stooging about on his bike in front of the house. On a whim I invited him in again but this was another mistake because after that he was outside almost every day - although I did warn him to stay away on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. I explained that I worked from home and my boss called then to collect what I had done. It was rather flattering having the lad hanging about for hours just on the off-chance and it was nice knowing that whenever I felt randy all I had to do was open the front door and beckon to have an eager young prick to rush in and do my bidding. I did call him in more than I should, even some mornings when I had Brad coming in the afternoon. It was very nice but I had to put a stop to it once I started screwing Ted from next door because I didn't want Eddie knowing about him. Now I only see Eddie on Fridays and sometimes the odd morning. To play safe I make him hide his bike and sneak in from the woods at the bottom of the garden." At the name of our next door neighbour my spirits plunged to new depths because I did not care for the man. There was no valid reason for this dislike. He just seemed to rub me up the wrong way. About forty-five years old, he is shorter than me but exceptionally broad across the shoulders and, in swimming shorts, his thighs look like tree trunks. Until he was fairly recently invited to apply for voluntary redundancy, he held some high powered role in the airline industry but now seems to have settled for early retirement. His wife still holds some sort of very responsible position so at one time they must have enjoyed a pretty fantastic joint income. I think they could easily have afforded a far more pretentious property elsewhere but instead they must have spent one hell of a lot of money making that house into everything that they wanted. This included a substantial swimming pool at the back of the house and a fully equipped gym in the basement. He was a man obviously used to giving orders but I also found him to be pushy with that natural aggression of smaller men who feel they ought to have been born taller. I thought that Sarah had paused to gauge my reaction to her latest revelation but I must have been mistaken because how I felt must have shown plainly on my face, yet my wife carried on obliviously. "One morning I was out in the garden when I saw Ted on his side of the fence waving to get my attention. When I walked over he said, 'Does your husband know how long the paper lad's bike is parked outside your front door each week?' I immediately thought that he was trying to blackmail me so I said rather haughtily, 'My husband is happy with anything I care to do but if you want to inform him about Eddie then please do.' "Well, Ted just grinned at that and said, 'You've got me wrong. I don't care whether you give the lad a roll in the hay or not. The fact is that, innocent or guilty, people talk so I was just offering a friendly hint that it might be more discreet if the lad wheeled his bicycle round to the back of the house'. With that sorted out we started chatting on a more friendly basis and after a minute or two of this, Ted said, "You know, if you do have any spare energy, you can always wander round and make use of my gym.' Showing interest, I asked what time would be convenient and he said that there was no time like the present, so I went." Sarah nudged me and said, "When they invited us both round to have a look at the gym soon after it was finished, you wouldn't go because you said you didn't like him. Well, I wondered what it was like ever since and now I know. You were also wrong about Ted because he is actually a very nice man." I was feeling extremely aroused but perversely my penis stayed obstinately flaccid. It must have been a self-defence mechanism. If it went stiff, I would have to fuck Sarah and at that point I was not sure if I wanted to have sex with my wife ever again. Simply by getting out of bed and going downstairs I could have brought this lurid confession to a close but instead I heard myself ask, "So what did you and Ted get up to?" "Before I tell you that there is something else I should mention," Sarah said happily. "Towards the end of last summer, not long after he lost his job, Ted was in his gym. I know because I kept hearing weights crashing on the floor. Well, I was looking out of the back bedroom window when he ran out and dived straight into his pool. He was only wearing those long baggy lager lout type shorts and as he entered the water they came straight off. There must have been something heavy in the pocket because they sank straight down to the bottom of the deep end. Ted made a couple of ineffective attempts at swimming down to reach them but then gave up and climbed out on the side. I couldn't help noticing that he had a really massive dong. It was not just a quick glimpse either because he looked round, didn't spot me watching, and then started fishing for the shorts using one of those long pruning tools for reaching up trees. It took him over five minutes before he finally got them out. At that time I wasn't particularly interested but since you so cleverly persuaded me how very nice sex could be, I've thought about that big cock one hell of a lot." Could things get any worse? First I find that a guy I dislike has shafted my wife and then she tells me that the bastard is hung like a horse. "I did have a quick look round his gym but then Ted took me upstairs for the real work-out," my wife picked up the narrative with obvious relish in her voice. "His cock is very long but not unusually thick, not as thick as Brad for instance. I'm not sure how long it is in inches but I can measure it next time if you are interested. He's also got very big hairy balls. The important thing is that Ted takes his fucking very seriously, he is very forceful and rather basic. I really do love doing it with him." "For the last two weeks I have been humping Ted every Monday and Wednesday. I always go over to his house. Most times it happens in a bedroom but we have screwed in the gym a couple of times. Working in some of the equipment in there can lead to some really fantastic sex. The only other thing that you ought to know is that I have had his cock down my throat. People say 'down my throat' as a figure of speech but this was really in my throat. He was pushing it in and when the head touched the back of my throat I started to gag." "Well, Ted said sternly, 'Swallow,' and then, 'Again.' I did as he ordered, without thinking, and the next thing I knew it was actually in my throat. It was a bit frightening but also very exhilarating. Ted told me to relax and breathe through my nose and he kept very still until I got used to it being there. I had to swallow a couple more times as my throat tried to react but after that he could move it in and out without any problem. It must be the same technique that men who swallow swords use. Now I can do it from scratch with very little problem. Ted likes doing it a lot but I made him promise to always pull back when he is going to cum because I don't want the spunk going straight into my stomach without me getting a taste." Sarah lay back smiling contentedly. I gave a long sigh and asked, "Is that it?" In reply, she sat forward, held up one hand and began bending fingers as she spoke, "I see Ted on Monday and Wednesday, Brad on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Eddie on Friday and any odd morning I can spare the time from my housework. That leaves the two days of the weekend when so far I only fuck you." "What do you mean, 'So far'?" I asked, panic gripping my stomach muscles. "Ted has mentioned that he would like me to pop round and see him on Saturday mornings." I started to shake my head but, ignoring this, Sarah went on, "More importantly, his wife is going to stay with her sister for a fortnight next month and Ted wants to come round to our house at night. He says that, if you are as broad-minded as I say you are, then you shouldn't raise any objection. With both Ted and Brad, I made no secret of the fact that they had you to thank for being able to shag me. I told them how you convinced me that sex had nothing to do with love and that it was actually a good thing if I wanted to fuck other blokes. They were very impressed. Brad keeps going on about how much fun it was the time that he shared me with Matt and only this last Thursday he was wondering if you might like to join in a threesome." "What did you tell him? I mean what did you tell both of them?" My wife smiled confidently. "I said that I couldn't promise without speaking to you first -but, knowing you so well, I think I gave both of them the impression that it was going to be all right." "I'm not so sure about that," I murmured. Given my wife's very obvious enthusiasm, I thought it advisable to only work round gradually to my categorical refusal. "I am being a bit selfish, aren't I," Sarah said changing tack. "I've been having such a good time these last three months that I have hardly given a thought to you. I think I rather thought you were poking Claire all that time. I know you told me that you hadn't screwed her but the way she was all over you that night at our house it was easy to see she was ready to open her legs whenever you asked. Tell you what, why don't we invite her for a weekend. We could make it into a real party. I would rather like to see another woman being fucked, especially Claire and I would particularly like to watch Ted pushing his long thing up her." * This narrative might more aptly be titled 'Pandora's box'. I did vainly try to tell Sarah that I had changed my mind and now believed that fidelity was the best policy. She only laughed saying, "Don't be silly. I don't know how you can say that when it's so obvious that what you said before couldn't be more true. I love you more now than I have ever done and that's mainly because you let me have so much fun." It gave me great satisfaction to put the fear of God into Eddie the paperboy but I could do nothing about the other two. I maintained my refusal to participate in group sex but had to accede to Sarah spending several nights next door with Ted while his wife was away. As for Brad and his threesome, I told Sarah that if she wanted to give him that treat then she should take him next door. As an act of self-defence I tried my luck with Claire but she said, "I'm so sorry, Alan, but you're too late. If you had asked earlier, I would have gone to bed with you like a shot but my boyfriend has just come back from Saudi early and we are getting married next month. Harry is a happy little boy and for his sake I do not want a divorce but I realise that staying married will need a great deal of mental readjustment.