Can I go to the pictures with Steve?

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Can I go to the pictures with Steve?PrefaceThis is my (sex) life story. I’ve started it from comparatively late in my life (when I was about 25) because quite frankly I had quite a normal boyhood and the usual teenage experiences that I wouldn’t want to bore you with, especially as many of you have had a far more interesting upbringing I’m sure. So, this is from the time of my first “unusual” experience and goes up to the present day (I am now 67). In that time I think I have had the thoughts that many men have had but instead of repressing them I like to think I have done something about it.Everyone is different, and what may be abhorrent to one person may be a secret fantasy to another. I think that I have an open mind and great tolerance towards others, especially with regards to sex. I really believed that anybody who does not at least have the occasional fantasy is repressed and doing themselves no good at all. We each only have one life; if you don’t grab the opportunity when you can you will spend eternity regretting it. I honestly believe that I have now “scratched all my itches” but I keep an open mind – and vivid imagination. If you still have things you secretly desire, then I say to you Carpe Diem.The contents of this story are basically true. Sometimes I have elaborated on an actual situation so that it ended more satisfactorily in the telling but is still based on reality. On other occasions at which I was not present I had to guess at what may have happened. I am positive that I am not too far out. Often I was told of incidents post-event and have elaborated in my own words as other parties may not have the imagination or language to do the situation real justice.EnjoyMike Chapter 1“Can I go to the pictures with Steve?” Not a question I was expecting from my young wife, the mother of my two c***dren, referring to our next-door-but-one neighbour, a petty officer on the Royal Yacht with quite a reputation as a ladies’ man. Why would I want to say that she could? Well, maybe I should explainWe had been married six years but a lot of that time I spent away from home, being in the Royal Navy too (I was a petty officer as well and it was a married quarters’ estate). Like just about every other matelot I used to spend the long nights at sea reading porn in my bunk and sometime previously I found a genre of porn which really did turn me on. Wife-watching. And I meant really turned me on. The thought of a man seeing the woman he loved getting fucked, screaming in delight, eyes rolling, mouth wide open; well, that really did it for me and in the dull light of the mess-deck I would masturbate night after night (hardly unique in a space containing 24 hormone-laden lads).Having a secret fantasy is one thing, being young and relatively early in a marriage and bringing it up with your wife is another. This was the early seventies; the swinging sixties had largely passed us by due to my sea time and our two-year posting to Singapore (during which I still spent months away) so in many ways we were still both strangers to the more enlightened society we had just re-joined. My wife did adopt two modern fashions though – the contraceptive pill and mini-skirts. Margaret was just 18 months younger than me, 5’0” tall, just 7 stone (98 pounds for you Yanks) and perfectly formed. She was (and is) a natural blonde with incredibly smooth skin. She has never had to shave her legs and her pubic hair is very light coloured and fine – hardly visible at all. She is also proud of her body and a bit of an exhibitionist. During our time in Singapore I got into photography and she took very little persuasion to strip and pose – even though I had to take the film to the local Chinese store for developing. We were both sure that more copies were made then were sold to us, but she didn’t really care. And she didn’t have more than a token objection when I showed the results to selected friends. My attitude was that she was very pretty and I was the envy of my shipmates, even more so when they saw what I was getting! Lots of lads were asking for “up-homers” every weekend and she would sit opposite them wearing very short skirts with her panties visible – it was hot in Singapore. Other than outrageous exhibitionism and mild flirting though, I was not aware that anything ever went further during my times away – though it would be the object of my fantasies in my bunk.So, my response to her request to go to the pictures, given my secret desires, was a definite “yes” but without sounding too keen.Even many years later I remember what she wore that night; knee length black boots, black tights, leather mini skirt easily half way up her thighs, a white blouse and short black leather jacket. I kissed her goodbye and told her to enjoy herself. I watched them both leave (in his Mini Cooper S – very “with it” in those days) and settled back to babysit – and fantasise. It was well past half eleven when she got back. I immediately noticed two things; firstly, she was looking very flushed – and she wasn’t wearing her tights! How I managed to keep the tremble out of my voice I don’t know. Certainly there was a lot going through my mind. Most incongruously was that he had a Mini! Now they weren’t like today’s Minis, these really were very small. So how could she possibly have fucked him in a Mini!“How was your night?” I asked“OK”, she answered, “It was a good film”. (I think it was Love Story, though not sure – and the last thing on my mind anyway). “I’m awfully tired, I’m going up” she said, turning away. I rapidly locked up, turned off the lights and followed her up the stairs. She was getting undressed in the dark when I got to our bedroom and though I’m not positive I think she didn’t have any panties on. She quickly finished and slipped into the bed; neither of us wear night clothes to this day so very quickly I was in with her and spooning into her back. She felt wonderfully warm, yet I detected a slight quiver. I cuddled her closely and after feeling her warm firm breast, toying with a semi-erect nipple, I inched my hand down between her legs – which she quickly closed.I had to take the chance. “You know I love you and would do anything for you”, I said. “Mmmm..” she murmured. “Well that includes me wanting you to enjoy yourself…….in any way that pleases you”. I felt her warm body stiffen slightly. “What do you mean?” she asked.I breathed deeply, here goes nothing! “Well, it may sound strange….but I would really like to think that Steve fucked you tonight”There was quite a pause; I thought I may have really blown it here.“Why would you want to think that, for God’s sake”, she burst out, almost angrily – but not quite convincingly. “Because I think you’re beautiful. I want men to fancy you. I want men to envy me.” I paused, “Do you remember our sports car in Singapore?” I felt rather than saw her nod. I had a metallic blue MGTD open top roadster that was my pride and joy. “All my mates were really jealous of me in that. And after I let a couple of my closest friends drive it around the Sembawang Road Race circuit they thought the car, and me, where the greatest”, I paused, “Well, I wanted my mates to drive you”. I paused, she didn’t reply. I pushed on. “Because the thought of you with another man, naked, screaming, panting, is the most erotic thing I can think of. I’ve fantasised about it for years and the image I have with you and Steve tonight is giving me the most tremendous hard-on as you can feel”. I held her tighter, my throbbing cock pressing hard between her cheeks.“That’s sick”, she breathed. But I felt her body slowly relax in my arms. She turned the top half of her body and I could feel her eyes look into my face in the darkness of our room lit only by a distant street light. “Are you really saying you wouldn’t mind if Steve…..” She hesitated, forcing herself to say a word I have never heard her use before. “……..fucked me?” Now it was my turn to tense up and if anything, my cock got harder.“Darling, I would love it more than anything in my life if Steve has fucked you, and…..” it was my turn to hesitate, “………and I would love you to eternity if you were to tell me all about it”. There, I’d said it all.There followed a short pause, then Margaret slowly turned around to face me and wrapped her arms around my body, cuddling tightly against my tenseness.“Are you sure? Are you really sure? I don’t want to take the risk of us losing all that is good between us unless I know you can handle this”. I wasn’t aware, but I had been holding my breath which I now let out slowly and audibly. “I’m sure”, I gasped.There was a longer pause as if she was calculating the risks, balancing the advantages and disadvantages of what may happen.Finally, “Okay”, she said and snuggled into me.“You know that Steve has always fancied me I suppose”. I nodded. “Well, I’ve always fancied him as well, but we have never had the opportunity to be alone together, so nothing has ever happened. Until tonight.” She paused. “When you said that you didn’t fancy going to see Love Story I asked Hazel (Steve’s wife) if she wanted to go. She said that she had seen it once but didn’t want to go again. Then she said that Steve had missed it and wanted to see it so maybe he could come with us. She thought you were coming as well”. She hesitated. “You’ll have to pretend you came if she mentions it”. I nodded silently in the dark.She shifted herself in my arms, warm and cuddly.“After we got in the car we didn’t get far. Just to the sports ground. I think we both knew what was going to happen. As soon as he switched off his engine we grabbed each other and kissed. Wet kisses. Deep kisses. He held me really tight and I pulled him over to my side. We kissed for some time. Nothing more than that though, not then. We said how much we fancied each other and kissed and hugged for some minutes. We did discuss not going to the pictures but decided that we had to because Hazel was bound to ask and if we seemed unsure about the story she would suspect. So we went. Steve drove most of the way with his hand on my knee, even moving it higher up my tights when we stopped for lights.”“When we got to the cinema Steve went to get the tickets and I went to the toilet”. She hesitated and tensed in my arms. “I took off my tights and pants and put them in my bag”, she whispered, and waited for a reaction.My breathing deepened and rose in volume. I held her tighter. “Go on” I croaked.“The theatre was packed so we did not have much of a choice where to sit. Not in the back unfortunately. We took off our jackets and put them over our knees. As soon as the lights dimmed I felt Steve’s hand on my now-bare knee. A beautiful, warm soft touch which made me shudder and fall back in the seat. He leant over and kissed me. I returned it. It didn’t take long for his hand to trail up my thighs, especially as I opened my legs so that he could feel the soft inside. He stopped suddenly at the top of my thighs as he realised I had no pants on! He looked me in the face and I could see him smile.”She was now breathing very heavily as she conjured up the memory and feelings in her mind.“It didn’t take long for a finger to find my clit. He didn’t have to wet his finger himself; I was absolutely soaking. He gently rubbed the button, up and down, circling, pressing. God, he was good”. She stressed the last word then paused. “I came”And I almost did as well at that moment, the images etched in my mind’s eye.“Steve is very much a gentleman though. He slowed down, then rested his hand on my hot thigh and let me come down. I’m sure the girl sitting next to me knew what was going on, but I didn’t care. While I was recovering I could see from the corner of my eye that Steve was manoeuvring himself under his coat. I guessed what he was doing. It was what I wanted him to do. He gently removed his hand from my thigh, held mine and slowly placed it under the jacket on his knees. Darling, it was enormous. It was hot. It was hard. I have never held anything so wonderful in my life – you don’t mind me saying that do you? I have to say it because it was so true”. She felt my shudder.“Oh, my darling” I said, “I want you to have the biggest and the best. You must understand that I will always get my biggest thrill from you getting your thrills. I’m really glad, honestly, that it was so good for you”, I replied in gasps between deep breaths. She tightened her grip on me and cuddled for a moment before going on.“As soon as I had got a good hold on it, Steve replaced his hand under my skirt and I opened my legs even wider. As I slowly pumped his beautiful cock up and down he inserted his fingers in my cunt and slowly, at first, slid them in and out, occasionally running his thumb round my clit then back in and faster, faster, deeper. I know I came more times though I don’t know how many. I know that he was getting more and more turned on as I felt the hardness throb. Once I ran my thumb over the throbbing head and felt the wet and slippery pre-cum and I put my thumb in my mouth. It tasted SO sweet that I did it often. Steve also kept on putting his hand in his mouth and often in mine as well so that I could taste my own juices. So, I let him taste his own pre-cum as well! We did that for the whole of the film and couldn’t wait until it finished”. She paused, then reached for my cock which was throbbing. She ran her thumb over the head which was leaking my pre-cum and then raised her hand to her mouth and savoured the taste. She didn’t comment on the relative size of our cocks but as I have a perfectly standard one of about 6” I actually wanted her to tell me that it didn’t compare. But she didn’t. Not this time anyway. I waited for her to continue.“We almost ran back to the car holding hands and as soon as we got in Steve grabbed and kissed me hard. He didn’t have to say anything as I knew what we both wanted. As we drove to the top of Portsdown Hill I reached into his trousers and got his cock out again. I would have loved to have swallowed it as he drove but there just wasn’t the room. We got to one of the quieter car parks on top of the hill near Fort Nelson and found a secluded corner. As soon as the engine stopped he pushed back his seat and I dived onto his enormous prick. I know how you like it. Wet, warm and deep, and that’s how I went down on Steve; and he must have loved it because his groan must have been heard outside the car. As I worked on that lovely cock he, for the first time, was playing with my tits. And he was really good at that as well. Then I was opening my legs with my left knee up in the air so he could get his fingers deep into me. He had no problem there, I don’t think I have ever been so wet. Not even with you, dear”. She kissed me gently and I imagined a smile on her face. My eyes were tight shut as I visualised my darling wife in the little car, mouth around a big cock, legs apart with another man’s fingers thrusting into her cunt.“I was so turned on by all this that all I could think of was getting fucked”. She hesitated. Then, “But there was no way that we could do it in the front or back of a mini. I closed my legs, removed my mouth from his cock and said to him ‘come on’. I opened the door and got out. I’m afraid I was a real slut darling, but I really wanted his cock in me, to feel it, to get his cum flooding into me. I went to the front of the car, leant forward on the bonnet and pulled up my skirt. Steve didn’t hesitate. I spread my legs wide and felt that wonderful head nuzzle at my cunt then slowly, slowly he pushed in. Then stopped, slowly withdrew then pushed in further, then further, then faster and faster. I could hear him grunt over my squeals as he went deeper and deeper. It seemed like ages but must have only been a few minutes until I felt him stiffen, groan and then I experienced the most wonderful flood of heat deep inside me, a flood that went on and on. I think I may have screamed”I was now gripping her hard and almost coming myself. I felt her body respond to the memory and her breathing quicken.“We only had time for a quick rest as we knew we had to get back before you and Hazel got suspicious. Steve didn’t have a handkerchief or tissue so, you don’t mind do you; I sucked him clean. Then we came home”. She exhaled deeply, exhausted as if she had just done it all again, which she had done, at least in her mind, and in my mind too I was shattered as though I had been there watching. After a few minutes as we both lay there I reached over and put on the bedside lamp. Margaret lay on her back and looked up at me, still not really sure about the situation, though I could tell from her breathing and erect nipples she was aroused.I said nothing but I’m sure my actions made my emotions quite plain. I had a raging erection thrust out in front of me as I lowered myself on to her body. Hesitantly at first she stretched out her arms and drew me to her. I kissed her deeply and hugged tightly.“I love you” I said. This reassured her, and I felt her body relax. I ran my hands over her body, her breasts, flat stomach and thighs. Then I gently parted her legs. She resisted at first, but I persisted. Slowly they parted and my fingers rested on the sweet fine hairs of her cunt. I gently dipped my finger into the warm wetness that awaited me. She was soaking, not just her cunt juices but I knew that I was feeling Steve’s cum on my fingers. I groaned softly. She stiffened. “What’s the matter?” she asked worriedly. “Darling”, I replied, “I’ve been dreaming of this moment for years. You with another man’s cum in you. I can feel it; I must see it and smell it”. She did resist momentarily as I lowered myself down her body but then relaxed, eyes closed, her head to one side. Then I could smell the heavy aroma of pure sex, mingled juices in her fine blonde matted hair. And I saw the dampness and what I knew was another man’s cum. I buried my head into her cunt before she could stop me, my nose and mouth saturated by those heavenly juices. I couldn’t stop myself lapping gently at her, first outside her cunt, then softly around her swollen lips, then – joy of joys – my tongue entered the Holy of Holies and I knew I was tasting ambrosia. She stiffened under me at first but then relaxed as I gently licked around her button then my tongue entering back deep inside, then sucking the sweet lips. She stiffened again as the feelings and situation hit her. Her body bucked, and I had difficulty holding firm onto her hips with my mouth clamped to her cunt. Slowly she relaxed and, sated, I lifted my body on top of hers. My throbbing cock touched gently at the lips my mouth had just vacated and slowly pushed deep inside her warmth, lubricated by her cunt juices, Steve’s cum and my saliva. Reader, it took no more than a dozen strokes before my cum burst deep inside to add to that divine mixture and I collapsed exhausted on top of my darling wife. We slept in each other’s arms deep and long that night.Chapter 2That night saw a change in us both. One of the most positive things was a spicing up of our sex life. In bed we would start off a session with stories from her past. I got her to tell about her experiences with former boyfriends and more casual encounters. She never had full sex before she met me (that she admitted to anyway) but she certainly got around. Her speciality was, and remains, the blow job, at which she was an expert and unbeknownst to me, well-known for. This was in the early sixties and she was barely sixteen. In those days k**s were neither as liberated nor experienced as they are today. Pregnancy out of wedlock was a massive taboo, there was little or no access to contraception and nice girls just did not do that sort of thing. Strangely, Margaret never gave me a blow job before we married though I did get to fuck her! She did tell me about sucking the cocks of a rock band in the back of their van one night to get free entry to a gig. And on another occasion at a party she was caught giving simultaneous blow jobs to a pair of brothers. So, she was not quite the nice girl I was led to expect before we got engaged. But it all added spice to our bedtime games.With Steve’s seagoing commitments and few opportunities to be without his wife there was only one other occasion they got together. Hazel, his wife, had a night out with friends and Steve was left in to babysit. His daughter was only two, so she would be in bed and asleep by the early evening. Margaret was aware that Hazel was going out as they were quite close friends and she must have thought the opportunity too good to miss. I remember her coming and sitting close to me after our k**s had been put to bed and giving me a big sloppy kiss and cuddle. With her legs tucked under her and head resting on my shoulder she looked up at me. “Darling,” she started, “you really enjoyed that time I told you about Steve, didn’t you?” I could hardly deny it; I had got her to repeat it to me several times as a prelude to another frenetic fucking session. “Well, he’s on his own tonight, and I was just wondering…….” She didn’t have to say anything else. “YES PLEASE”, I almost shouted. “Oh yes!”I made her dress up for the date, not that she took much persuading, I know what men really like so I got her to wear stockings and black panties, bra and sussie under a short skirt and almost-see through top. I persuaded her not to wear too much make up as we certainly didn’t want evidence of the evening to be found by Hazel on her return. Not that she needed make up anyway; her eyes were bright, her lips plumped up and there was a healthy glow about her, all in anticipation of what she hoped was to come. We kissed deeply and with a smile and a mouthed “thank you” she was gone to walk the two doors along the balcony to Steve’s maisonette.It was just after eight o’clock that she left. We had agreed that she should be back by ten o’clock so as not to be caught. We had also agreed that she was to tell Steve that she had told me she was having coffee with a friend in another block. So started the longest two hours of my life. On the previous date I did not know what to expect and had only hoped that something would happen. This time I knew that as I sat there trying to watch television with my heart pounding and my breath rasping, my young beautiful wife was probably naked being pounded by a stud with a cock she had constantly dreamt about these last few weeks. I incessantly played with my hardened cock but determined to save what I had for later – if it would only come quicker!!! I had several drinks, walked around a bit, and in anticipation got undressed and into my dressing gown. And waited….The News at Ten was just starting and the chimes fading away when the front door finally opened. She walked in face aglow, an enormous smile on her face. She threw herself into my arms and kissed me deeply. I could smell and taste something in her mouth – and it wasn’t toothpaste. “Quick,” she said, “I’ve something for you”She dragged me by the hand up to our bedroom and pushed me onto the bed. Facing me, she lifted off her top to expose naked breasts, reddened around the nipples. Then she pushed down her skirt and stepped out of it. She still had on her suspender belt and stockings but no pants. I later discovered that Steve kept the bra and pants as trophies.“Close your eyes”, she commanded. Reluctant to miss the sights I hesitantly did. I felt her climb on the bed. The next thing I knew my face was covered by wetness, smells, heat and the throbbing of a naked body. I struggled to breathe as I luxuriated in the mixtures before me. I felt her bend forward placing her hands on my hips as she rubbed her damp groin in my face. “I know that this is what you want. That’s THREE loads there” she paused, “and one more in my mouth” she groaned, and from the convulsions I could feel around my mouth I knew she had come. She collapsed into my lap, her head alongside my throbbing cock. Now that she was no longer sitting on my face I could open my eyes and look into the gaping, wet, steaming chasm of her cunt inches from me. I cleaned her enflamed, distended red pussy and licked deep between those red lips, savouring the taste I knew to be the mixed cum of my wife and her lover – yes, her lover; how pleased I was to say that. My wife had a lover! And yet here she was back with me, fucked, swollen, satiated, happy – but with ME.After a few more minutes of softly brushing, licking and sucking her swollen cunt I gently moved her around to lie in my arms, smoothing her hair and kissed her lips, eyes, cheeks and ears. She murmured her appreciation and sighed deeply.“Thank you darling, thank you so much. That was the most marvellous night I have ever had”. Her eyes flickered up at me. “You aren’t angry I said that, are you?” she said softly. “You don’t know how much that pleases me.” I replied kissing her gently. “Did he really come in your mouth?” She nodded. “Did you swallow?” “Of course, don’t I always? Well actually it was his first lot and I hate to say that some actually spilled out – but I did scoop it up and lick it off my fingers. That really turned him on. I enjoyed the taste of him, I really did; warm and almost sweet.” She paused, “I promised him I’d do that again. If I may?” She looked at me. “Of course you can darling. Try and get home with some in your mouth next time though, so we can both taste him”. She laughed softly and hugged me, then kissed me, her tongue deep in my mouth and I swear I could taste his cum.“May I fuck you?” I asked. “Be gentle darling, I’m awfully sore, he was so big and strong and hard” she replied quietly.I gently parted her legs and slipped by cock slowly but determinedly into the warmth and wetness of her cunt. It slipped easily its full length. I have to say that yet again it took little time before I was flooding the depths of her cunt with my seed. As I lay there impaled in her I felt the warmth of my cum slip over my cock and out of her cunt onto the sheets. After a minute or two I withdrew, reached for a tissue and gently wiped her between her still extended thighs. She sighed gently then turned to me, put her arms around my body and slipped into a deep sleep. She was still like that the following morning, whether out of love or to avoid the massive damp patch on her side of the bed I do not know.To both of our regret that was her last time with Steve. Shortly after he sailed on the Royal Yacht to Australia and we never saw him again. We moved later that year into our first house in Portchester.Before we left the married quarters however, one more incident of note occurred. My hobby then, and for many years after, was target shooting, both .22 and full-bore with military weapons (self-loading rifles, 9mm pistols, sub-machine guns) and I was the club secretary, team captain and chief coach. That summer of 1970 I led a team competing in a week-long event featuring all the other naval establishments, available ships and the Royal Marines. I was quite a good shot, county and inter-services level, and I had the benefit of two other very good shots (one went on to international level) in our team of 12. It took a lot of effort and many Saturday mornings to whip the team into shape, but it paid off handsomely when we won the majority of the competitions and the victor ludorum, beating even the Royals. Our ship’s captain was absolutely over the moon; he got plenty of silver for the trophy cabinet and could lord it over his colleagues for a year. In gratitude he took the team to the local pub, put money behind the bar and gave me more to keep the party going. Margaret had come along for the prize-giving having asked friends to look after the k**s and was the only woman there. I have to explain about Margaret and drinking. She has never really drank much, just on the odd occasion and then very little. But when she does she, in those days, went through phases. After a couple she lightens up and is the life and soul of the party, a few more and she slurs her speech somewhat and is “floppy”. More than that and she is practically u*********s. Much later in life she unfortunately added another phase just after the life and soul bit – she became very, very argumentative. But this was then. I, on the other hand, have rarely drunk much. I don’t like not being in control of myself and I also like watching others being stupid. On this occasion we were filling the many trophies with drinks, usually rum and coke which Margaret liked, and passed around many times. I noticed that she drank deeply from the cups and in no time at all she was mightily pissed, swaying and giggling, hanging on to my mates; well out of it. By now it was late in the afternoon, so I suggested that I went to the Off-Licence and spent what was left of the Captain’s money and we would go back to our place to finish the party. Unanimously agreed! I piled the drinks in the boot of the car and Margaret into the back between two of the lads. I knew what was likely to happen and I had angled the rear-view mirror to show the back seat. Margaret, as always, was wearing a short skirt which was riding well up her thighs and she was burbling nonsense and rolling from side to side. I glanced in the mirror and was not at all surprised to see a hand on each exposed thigh. She did not, or maybe could not, move them away and the hands were gently rubbing away, inching ever higher. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I only lived a mile away from the rifle range, so we soon pulled up before the hands disappeared altogether up her skirt. The other cars had arrived (this was before breathalysers were common) and I organised the drinks being taken to our upstairs maisonette. Margaret, I left for the moment, asleep in the back of my car. When drinks were organised and the party re-started I asked one of my mates to give me a hand. We went back down to the car and struggled to get her out; she was practically comatose. “It’s no good,” I said to Archie, “we’ll have to carry her. You get her feet” – which he gladly did. I got her around her arms and between us to carried her up to the upper floor, along the balcony (past a shocked Hazel) and, as I suggested to Archie, up our stairs to put her to bed. Well, actually to just lay her on top of the bed. All the time Archie had more than his eyes full of her thighs and pants and I did detect the bulge in his pants as we lay her on the bed. I thanked him for his help and told him to grab a drink, I would sort her out. And sort her out I did. I undid her blouse and slipped off her bra, then raised skirt over her hips to expose her groin. She stirred only slightly during all this. I left her pants on, though I did part her legs, raising one knee. I went to the door and looked back checking her out. She lay with tits exposed and the crutch of her pants stretched over her cunt for all to see. I “forgot” to fully close the door and went downstairs.The party was in full swing and I was asked how Margaret was. I said that she was well and truly pissed and I had left her getting undressed to get into bed to sleep it off so we were free to enjoy ourselves. First, though, I had to see our neighbour who was looking after the k**s and ask them if they could mind them until 7.00 which she agreed to do. When I got back there was a certain buzz about the room. To get to the toilet you had to pass our bedroom and I’m sure that some had already felt the need to go and seen what I had left on show. There were obviously some very weak bladders in that room that day. I made a show of getting pissed myself but actually hardly had anything. I was enjoying myself too much watching my mates spending ages upstairs and coming down flushed. Much later most of the team were totally pissed and I took the opportunity to follow one up the stairs, ever so quietly, stopping halfway up to look through the bannister. His back was to me, standing next to our bed. He stood still for a minute then I saw his left hand reach forward. As his concentration was obviously elsewhere I took the opportunity to creep up the stairs, any noise I may have made would be drowned by the music and hubbub from downstairs. I slowly inched along the landing and peered around the door. He was oblivious to me, far too busy stroking Margaret’s thigh slowly upwards until his hand was resting on her panties, pressing gently. Getting no response from my almost-naked u*********s wife and emboldened I saw him withdraw his hand, bring his fingers up to his mouth then I watched as his fingers hooked into the white material of her pants and slowly pull it away from her fair-hair covered cunt. He paused for just a bit longer before rubbing his wet fingers up and down between her lips, occasionally slipping into the warm depths. Margaret’s gentle moan caused us both to stop still but she made no further move. After a moment he continued the gentle rubbing and dipping. I saw his right hand reach towards his groin and heard the zip lower. The movement of his right arm was enough to tell me that he was wanking at the sight of my wife and the feel of her cunt. I, too, was throbbing hard at the sight. After a couple of minutes, he threw his head back and grunted. He had come. I quickly stood back and went into one of the k**’s bedrooms, closing the door behind me. I listened intently at the door until I heard the footsteps going down. Pausing a minute, I left the small bedroom and entered ours, closing the door behind me. What a sight. Margaret lay there flat out on her back, legs apart, one knee raised. Her pants had not quite returned to cover her, and a set of labia lips were visible to one side. And there was cum over her thighs and the bedcover. Moreover, I’m sure there was more than just the one load. I tentatively touched the drops on her inner thigh and rubbed into her flesh. I must admit I was tempted to lick her legs clean but I worried about the door opening with another drunken sailor wanting to cop a feel. With a final look at her, I retreated out of the bedroom and closed the door. Time to draw the party to a close. I flushed the toilet as my alibi and re-joined the party, slowly winding it downWhen the last one had reluctantly left saying it was the best time they had ever had I shut the front door and went back upstairs. Margaret lay as she had previously but now it was me that ran my hand up her thigh and slipped my fingers into her cunt. Even u*********s she responded to my touch with little grunts and murmurs. I couldn’t help but lie between her thighs and draw in the deep aroma between her legs, then gently lick between her labia. And yes, I did clean up her thighs.Then we moved.Chapter 3We got on the housing market by buying a small terraced house in Portchester at the wrong time in the price cycle so ending up paying over the top. If we’d bought just 12 months earlier, we’d have paid less than half we eventually did.The expenses we now had, mortgage and rates, meant that it was necessary for Margaret to go out to work. Fortunately, a few doors away lived Lil, the widow of an abusive and alcoholic ex-matelot, who lived with her son Bernard. He was, for a time anyway, in the Navy as well. Unfortunately for him he got caught in a homosexual ring based on the Royal Yacht (small world!!) and after six months in the military prison at Colchester he was thrown out. But that’s another story. His mother, Lil, became the nanny that our two c***dren didn’t really have, their real ones living many miles away and who we rarely saw. Lil was more than happy to look after our k**s and earn a few extra pounds to supplement her pension so Margaret could work while I was away. So she got a job as a barmaid at the Mecca in Portsmouth, working from eight in the evening until one in the morning. Now I have to say that she was perfect for that job; she worked hard, she looked great, she flirted with customers and she got lots of tips. When I was away Lil would stay at our house until she got back home in the early hours. Margaret used to work with another woman, Moira, who lived close by us and they took turns each driving into Portsmouth. When home I used to go for a drink with her husband, Alf. It was during one of these sessions that he dropped a bombshell. He told me that on many occasions his wife and Margaret had been followed home by another car which parked up around the corner from our house. After this had happened a couple of times Moira, instead of walking down the road to her house, hid and watched. Margaret went into the house and then Lil left and walked the three doors to hers. After a short time, she saw a man she recognised as a Mecca regular called Colin come around the corner and enter through the open doorway of my house. She was positive that this happened regularly. I was stunned at the news. Not for the reason Alf thought but because she had never mentioned Colin to me at all. Quite the opposite, she had said that she put all games on hold while I was away.This was the worst sort of unfaithfulness to me. It wasn’t that she betrayed me sexually because she knew she could fuck any man she wanted with my blessing – as long as I knew about it. No, this must be more than sex, she was being unfaithful to our marriage and our relationship.I got home early that night from a shooting match and let Lil go home, then waited for Margaret. She arrived in the early hours as usual. Recently she had been going in her own car all the time rather than share with Moira. I now knew why, Moira disapproved of her doing what she was doing and wanted no part of it. I also suspected that without Moira and access to our house Margaret may be having a little play with this Colin before coming home. And I was right.Margaret was quite surprised that I was still awake and up when she got in, and even more surprised when, having hardly had time to remove her coat, I held her and ran my hands up her legs to encounter a very wet cunt indeed. At least she still had pants on though. “Colin?” I asked. This startled her, that I knew his name. I knew I was right from the look on her face. “It was just the once tonight,” she lied which really got me angry. We had a blazing row, or rather I did. She couldn’t really say anything being caught out as she was. I demanded to know why she didn’t tell me – she didn’t have to ask me for permission, she knew I would have given that. She had no answer other than it just happened, she liked it and she didn’t want to share it. This was a selfish side of Margaret that I later became very aware of and which has been a major contribution to our relationship not being as good as it could be. Also, I now had doubts that Steve was her first. Maybe she had had many affairs and only asked if she could go out with Steve because it was her only chance with him that way. I felt that things could never be the same again. But I still fancied her and we had two k**s to think of. One side of me wanted to take her to bed and fuck her loaded cunt but in the end the other side won, and I slept downstairs.I made her give up her job at the Mecca as I could no longer trust her to stop seeing Colin, or any other man she took a fancy too. Not that I didn’t want her to fuck around still but I could not be sure that she would tell me about it and allow me my share of the fun. She ended up doing an 8 till 4 job in the office at Britax just down the road, hopefully with fewer temptations while I was away.It was about this time that I decided that I should also play around. Up until then I had been faithful despite the many temptations put in the way of us matelots in foreign ports but after the incident with Colin I saw no reason to continue my fidelity. Sometime later we went to a party and I was particularly struck by one girl, Pat. She too was blonde, also about Margaret’s height, slightly chunkier than my wife’s slim frame but by no means plump. I was fascinated by her energy as she danced, swinging around and flashing her pants (burgundy, I remember them well). It was one of those things; she noticed my attention and frequently returned my gaze. You do know when you’ve made a hit. She was married to a submariner Petty Officer I knew well, though this was the first time I had met her. We bumped into each other during the party and made small talk at first, then I plucked up the courage (I am actually very shy) to ask if she fancied meeting up for a drink one day. Gladly, she was very enthusiastic and suggested the following Monday in Lee on Solent. Of course, I agreed.At that time, I was in between courses at HMS Collingwood and because of my shooting I was given the temporary job of Gunnery Instructor which involved very little other than taking the ceremonial guard each morning. This involved an early start to drill them before Divisions on the parade ground at 08:00. After a warm up I would fall them in at the top of the parade ground at ease waiting for Divisions to start. This had the benefit of watching cars come onto base and I was able to see Pat’s husband coming each morning so on the Monday, I knew he was not at home with her that day. After divisions I would fall out the guard and the rest of the day was generally my own – and I was allowed to leave base.So that Monday I finished my duties and left to meet Pat at a Café in Lee at 10:00. We chatted for some time finding that we did indeed like each other, at least enough to take it further as she suggested I take her for a drive, not a long one, just to the car park at Hill Head. We were soon kissing and petting somewhat heavily and I got my hand in her blouse and under her skirt where I was pleased to find a very responsive cunt. After a bout of teenage-style groping she stopped me.“This is uncomfortable, come home with me”. Home was just a quarter of a mile away, a very pleasant semi in a new estate. Submariners get paid considerably more than us “skimmers”.She led me up the stairs to their bedroom and quickly, almost shyly, undressed. She was just ever so slightly tending to plump with pendulous breasts and was a natural blonde as I noted from her trimmed bush. I was still in the act of undressing when she sat on the bed, pulled me towards her, released my cock and filled her mouth with it. Her mouth was wet and warm and the feeling of her tongue gently touching me ahead the head of my cock was exquisite. Occasionally she managed the whole length in her mouth, her tongue licking the deep vein at the bottom of my cock, then withdrawing back to the head, sometimes tonguing the pre-cum from the little hole from whence it leaked.She stopped then lay back on the bed and as I finished undressing I saw her hands reach to her groin and, opening her legs wide, she played with herself, rubbing herself frantically up and down her cunt. Her breathing was loud and rapid, her eyes were closed, and her breasts heaved invitingly. I felt that I should be eating her cunt for here in repayment for the excellent blow job I had received but I think we were both too far gone for further foreplay, so I climbed onto the bed, positioned myself between her legs and pushed into the inviting target. She was gratifyingly wet and warm and took me easily, her legs lifting and clamping around my waist. I felt good and in control. Slowly I thrust in and out of her, deeper each time. Then, when fully in I withdrew and plunged back hard and fast, paused and repeated. I was really trying hard to please, firstly by not cumming too soon then by judging her response and reacting accordingly. It must have worked, she was grunting, heaving, writhing under me. I came and gushed into her then an incredible thing happened, something that had never happened to me before and after Pat didn’t happen again for thirty years. She squirted. I felt a torrent of warmth and wetness envelope my cock, my balls, my stomach. She was shuddering and moaning, her head to one side, a fist in her mouth. I was stunned; never had I had a girl react like this with me before.In my naivety I had never heard of squirting, but I have since googled it and now know that it is a rare response to the sex act though researchers are not yet sure what it really is. Some think it is a mixture of vaginal lubrication and urine, others think its source is elsewhere. All I know is that it is amazing to experience, and especially to be the cause of that event.After we both subsided and lay there in each other’s arms Pat sounded embarrassed and tried to apologise for what was one of my life’s better memories. I soon put her at ease and told her how amazing I had found the whole experience and would love to repeat it. Which we did.Our games lasted for a few months but eventually I started a course and never again had the opportunity of slipping away during the daytime. But the memories of that amazing little blonde will stay with me always.Chapter FourEven with my new regular “bit on the side” I was still thinking of my particular obsession. I was regularly reading the Fiesta, a very popular men’s magazine of that period. Besides pictures of naked models, it had a section called “Reader’s Wives” where men sent pictures of their wives or girlfriends (or both) in various stages of undress. Also included was a letters section and articles on various subjects. A much recurring theme was the desire of writers to watch their wives being fucked, a subject dear to my heart. I was obviously not alone in this fantasy as it was by far the most common topic in the letters section. I would get the magazine each month and drive off to a secluded spot to avidly read these “wife-watcher” letters and gaze at real women – the reader’s wives – rather than plastic posers. Inevitably, this would lead to a bout of energetic wanking. But could I trust Margaret again? She was working days and I was home most nights, so she had little opportunity to play her games. Our sex life had slowly improved after our falling out and I occasionally got her to recount details of past fucks with other men to add spice to our fun. Then an opportunity arose which kick-started things in that direction again.If a naval officer was ambitious for promotion it was expected that he undertook some voluntary work in his own time. I was the secretary of the small-bore rifle club and we shot matches in several leagues, civilian, naval and inter-service. As a chairman we had a Lieutenant Commander who benefitted from a purely nominal role but with the kudos of being associated with a very successful club. Having said that it was nominal I have to say that Chris was very supportive of us and I got to know him well. He had some time previously had a very messy divorce which made him bitter to women in general, so much so that he set up a national organisation for divorced men and even appeared on television from time to time bemoaning the bias that courts showed to men. I was soon to discover that he wasn’t a total misogynist. One day we went to a prize-giving where the team, and me as an individual, received a plethora of pots. I was feted by our club members and our opponents alike and for once I drank just a bit too much. Margaret also had had too many to risk driving so Chris volunteered to drive us both home, pick me up in the morning and then bring me back for my car in time to get to work. I distinctly remember falling into the hedge outside our house as I was helped in and sat down in an armchair. Margaret, a bit tiddly and in the giggly phase of intoxication went and made coffee for herself and Chris while I fell asleep. She had always liked Chris and felt sorry for him having heard his experiences with his ex.Something must have aroused me a short time later and I heard noises, whispering.I slowly opened my eyes and saw Chris and Margaret kissing. They kissed for a short while and then I saw Chris’s hand moving up under her skirt, between her legs. She moaned against his mouth and opened her legs just a little to give him a bit more freedom to work.He broke the kiss and asked her if she would like to go into the bedroom?She hit him on the arm and said, “No, I can’t do that.””How about we take a ride over to my house? Mike will never know, and I’ll bring you back before morning.”Again, she told him no, that she wasn’t going anyplace.Chris said, “Fine, I like it here on the sofa anyway,” and went back to kissing her. By now one hand was playing with her left breast and the other made it up under her dress to her bare leg above her stockings. As his hand was rubbing her leg just inches from her crotch he came across the strap of the suspender belt that was holding her stockings up.He broke the kiss again and asked her if she was wearing a garter belt?With all the drink she had consumed and with his fingers obviously having quite some effect by this point, she moaned that yes she was and did he like it?I heard Chris give the strap a little snap and said, “God yes I like. There’s nothing sexier than a girl wearing a garter belt and stockings.”Just then Chris moved his finger right up to the wet crotch of her panties. She moaned, “Mmmmm,” in his mouth as they started kissing again. He was running his fingers up and down her wet cunt right through her lace panties. His other hand was still on her breast and was now rolling her hard nipple around right through her dress and bra. Then Chris whispered that he needed to get her out of her dress.In an instant he had the zipper down on the back of her dress then pushed it off her shoulders fully exposing her bra. She looked over at me and I quickly closed my eyes and made grunting, snoring noises. When I thought it safe to do so I slowly peeked again thinking she would be putting a stop to this very shortly with me in the room. But Chris was now pulling on the hem of her dress. Then to my surprise she raised herself up and let Chris remove her dress and slip. He then moved her around so she was more or less laid out on the sofa flat on her back with him next to her. Chris leaned over her and started kissing her again as his hand slid down her belly. His hand made its way down to her panties and slipped right inside the waistband. His fingers made their way down over her mound and obviously came into contact with her clitoris. She moaned and rocked her hips up to his fingers.Chris moaned also, as he sank one or two fingers inside her wet cunt. He was running his fingers deep inside of her and then pulling them out, rubbing her juices all over her clit. Chris unhooked her little bra and her breasts sprang free for him to view. She at first tried to cover her breasts but Chris quickly moved her arms out of the way and sucked one of her erect nipples right into his mouth. He then started taking turns sucking and kissing one nipple then the other.She softly moaned out, “OH GOD!” and held Chris’s head to her breast and was working her hips up and down in time with his finger fucking.She pushed her hips up in the air and I’m convinced she started cumming on Chris’s fingers. He kept playing with her clit as she kept cumming and cumming judging by the a****l noises she was making.There was a bit of a pause as she slowly subsided. Then I saw Chris bend forward and kissed her belly.Then he hooked his fingers around the waistband of her little black lace panties. Slowly he started pulling them down. Again, just like with the dress she raised her hips up off the sofa to help him remove her panties. I almost went through the roof when I saw Chris’s hot tongue run up the full length of her wet slit.Chris was now finger fucking her as he licked her cunt lips and sucking on her clit. I was going out of my mind as I watched her hold his head tight to her wet groin. I’m sure she came again, as she raised her hips hard into his face and groaned. She looked him in the eyes and said, “Oh my god that was so good.”Chris, ever the gentleman, then said, “Can I make love to you?” She nodded yes.Chris laid the bottom of his hard cock right down on her wet lips. She was so wet his cock could slide up and down her slit very easily. Very slowly Chris began rocking his hips, sliding his cock up and down her cunt. With each upward stroke the bottom of his cock was rubbing her clit. I could tell that it felt good by her gasps and closed eyes. His cock then sank in between the lips as they went about half way around his cock during his sliding action. The head of his cock moved up deep in her cunt and would pop out right below her clit. Then it would continue on up rubbing her clit in a way that was unreal to watch and I’m sure to feelI think she was on the brink of another orgasm and as she pushed upwards against his thrusts Chris’s hot cock sank deep inside her. She let out a loud, “OH MY GOD!!” as it sank deep inside her again. I don’t know how I contained myself. All I knew was that my wife was cumming with another man’s hard cock buried deep inside of her and I was at last watching. Chris was now holding her legs straight up in the air as he was driving his cock in her hard and fast, right in front of me, her husband. In a very short time Chris pushed deep inside and his body shuddered, OH FUCK YES!” And he was filling her with his hot sperm. I’m sure that Margaret did her best to milk every last drop of his cum with her cunt lips. After a few more jerks Chris had emptied all his hot seed deep inside her, then panting and out of breath he fell down on top of her and they locked into a hot hard kiss.Chris broke the kiss and said, “Margaret that was the best fuck I’ve ever had.”Chris got up from between her legs and stood next to the sofa. His cock made that wet suction sound as it popped out of her. This was the first time that I got a good look at his cock. It was maybe two inches longer than mine; making it maybe 8 or 9 inches long when it was hard. Now I knew why it felt so good for her when he was fucking her. Chris now got dressed and leant over Margaret kissing her on the lips and giving her tits a final squeeze. “I’ll be back in the morning to take Mike back to his car. And thanks”.I kept my eyes closed tight as she let him out, returned to gather her clothes and make her way bahis firmaları up to bed, leaving me to my own devices. After I was sure that she was in bed I quickly undressed and moved over to the sofa and lay on the spot where I had watched my wife perform spectacularly. I could feel the damp patch under my arse where his and her juices had leaked. I held my erect cock and stroked it. Then the door opened and Margaret was standing there.“What are you doing”, she said, “as if I didn’t know”I was speechless, not knowing what to say. “Come on up to bed and I’ll let you play with me and fuck me. That is, if you want to”, she saidFive minutes later I was between her legs driving into the wet passage prepared for me by another man – and loving it.The outcome of this was that I agreed she could have boyfriends again on the condition she told me all about the sex with them.And Chris, true to his word, picked me up at seven o’clock in the morning. He told me that he had enjoyed his night and we must go for a drink again soon.Chapter 5It was time again for me to go back to sea. I was drafted to HMS Falmouth, a general purpose frigate happily Portsmouth based so when we weren’t at sea at least I could get home at night – usually. Some ships are happy, others not. Luckily the Falmouth was one of the happy ones and I really enjoyed by two years on her. I was in charge of the maintenance of the radar and sonar but being one of nature’s volunteers I was soon on the ship’s welfare committee, running the recreational radio on board and producing the ship’s newspaper.Previously in my married life I had been very faithful, never having played around at all; generally, because I was too busy fantasising about Margaret and her lovers. However, now that I had had some experiences in that way and because I knew that she had been less than truthful and, it appeared, would have no hesitation in shagging around again with or without my knowledge I decided that it was time for me to play. In my life I have never actually instigated an affair with any women. This is probably down to shyness and fear of rejection. Physically I am nothing special to look at, just 5’8” though fairly well built and I have always been fit, working out, jogging, badminton, squash etc. It has often happened, however, that a woman has taken a shine to me for whatever reason and I was now determined to take whatever advantage of the situation I could.Our first port of call was the town of Falmouth as a courtesy visit. As was usual the liaison officer went ahead and organised girls to bring on board for socials in the Wardroom, the Chiefs’ mess and the Petty Officers’ messes. The officers usually got nurses and the rest of us whatever was left. On this occasion the Chiefs’ mess entertained some girls from K.P. Morritt’s which was the town’s biggest employer. This company made fishing reels and was very big in the sixties and seventies. Unable to compete with Japanese imports it closed down shortly after.I was the youngest chief in the mess at that time and in some ways different from the rest of the “roughie, toughie, hairy-arsed matelots”. I had been educated at a very good grammar school in the North of England learning Latin and Greek amongst other subjects, nothing so crude as woodwork of course, played rugby rather than football and did the Times and Telegraph crosswords for amusement. Most importantly, I was taught how to be a gentleman by my father, an ex-naval officer himself. I think that veneer of poshness has stood me in good stead on many occasions and indeed this was just such a one. I met Lynette. She was just 19 and later said she was attracted to me because all the rest in the mess” were old” and I talked nice – she talked with a broad Cornish accent or “Janner” as we said in the Navy. I was very impressed with her looks though; brunette, slim, no more than a mouthful of tit – just how I like them. To cut a long story short we ended up in the Grove Hotel in town. Young she may have been but inexperienced she was not. I hardly got a wink of sleep trying to tame her insatiable appetite for cock and kisses. I remember a large white bath towel being saturated with juices as we wiped each other off before another bout of sucking and fucking. I think I stood it up against the wall before I left! Ah, the endurance of youth. Not many women look better undressed than dressed sadly, but Lynette was one of the few. After a long night I had to get back on board and I was to leave her to have breakfast and make her own way home which fortunately was close by. But I was unable to close the door behind me without slamming it which would have gone down well in a small hotel at 6 o’clock on a Sunday morning. So Lynette climbed out of bed and walked towards me totally, adorably, beautifully naked to close the door behind me. I treasure that sight even to this day 40 years later. One worry I did have though is that we did not use any precautions whatsoever and I never knew if she was on the pill or not.Another UK port we visited before sailing far away was Southend. This time we were invited to the local police station and were well entertained with free booze, guided around the best night spots and even rides back to the ship in those taxis with blue flashing lights. Naturally we reciprocated the following night. One of our guests was an enormous detective constable with that air of repressed brutality that some of them have. He was accompanied by his wife and what a contrast. She was very petite, brunette with a lovely smile and freckles around her eyes and high cheekbones. Despite knowing that she was coming on a warship she was wearing a very short skirt indeed. Her husband was enjoying many pints of our CSB (Courage Sparkling Bitter – the standard beer in Senior Rates messes, very tasty and deceptively strong) then turned to me and said, “Babs has been looking forward to a guided tour. Don’t forget to show her the golden rivet”. He roared with laughter. I asked her if she would like a look round and she nodded, so off we went. I was looking forward to following her up the many ladders we have on-board and soon I was having more than my fair share of panties as she climbed ahead of me. Other sailors I passed also watched her with some admiration and a lot of envy.Falmouth was only a small ship so the tour didn’t take long. We ended up in one of my radar offices and I was explaining the workings of the 993 surface radar when she suddenly asked me where the golden rivet was and when could she see it. I told her gently that it was a joke, there was no real golden rivet. It was a euphemism for a sailor’s private parts. She dimpled and looked down. “Yes, I know, but I want to see it”.A nod being as good as a wink I put my arms around her and kissed her. Her tongue probed my mouth and she put her arms around my neck. I put my hand under her top and lifted her bra to squeeze her lovely tits and twiddle her nipples. Suddenly she pulled away, dipped down and pulled off her panties, throwing them on the floor behind me. Now, radar offices do not come equipped with beds or sufficient worktop spaces to lay down a beautiful writhing woman. Minutes later we were against a bulkhead, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck, her legs locked behind my back, our lips crushed together and with me thrusting in and out of a very welcoming, soaking vagina. Fortunately, there is always a lot of background noise on a ship else her stifled cries, groans and grunts would have awakened the Watch on Deck!It had been a few weeks since I had last cum so the flood was not unexpected by me but boy, did she welcome it with a cry as it shot into her hospitable body. Her legs tightened their grip before they slowly relaxed and she slid to the floor holding on to my neck for support.It was some while before I could take her back to the mess and her husband, so flushed was she in the immediate aftermath of our fucking. I’m fairly certain he had a good idea what we had been up to though; I imagined he got her to tell him all about it later in bed, then perhaps he went down and licked out the remains of my cum from between those gorgeous legs.The following night the ballroom at the end of the pier went up in flames so we had to cut the trip short. Shortly after we set sail for foreign parts, a trip of some six months duration. I am sure that Margaret would not be celibate and I had no intention of being so either.First port of call was Gibraltar. In those days it was still a major naval port with ships and garrisons permanently based there, so our visit did not excite much comment or offers of hospitality. There was an incident of note however, concerning my petty officer.Danny was the diametric opposite to me as far as personality goes, very outgoing and absolutely determined to fuck anything that moved. Nothing much to look at but he did have a way with women! His philosophy was that statistics show that 5% of women randomly selected would fuck a stranger as long as there were no repercussions. So all he had to do was to ask twenty women. His chat up line was, “Before I spend my time and money on you will I be getting at shag tonight?” It was as simple as that. I wouldn’t begin to have the courage to say that to anyone. Nineteen insulted rejections do not compensate for a fuck in my book, but it worked for him. In all the time he was on the Falmouth he never once spent a night on-board in a foreign port. Except in Gibraltar he made a mistake. There were a bunch of girls in the Lord Nelson pub and he chose his first target. Unfortunately, she was with her boyfriend, a corporal in the garrison regiment and he took exception to Danny’s usual question. Danny didn’t argue; he just hit him. Big mistake, Danny was arrested and charged with assaulting a junior rank. He was court martialled, but to make matters worse his wife, Avril, was a Chief Petty Officer Wren who worked in the Admiralty Adjutant General’s office in charge of Court Martial evidence. They are no longer together to no-ones’ surprise.The next port of call was just across the Straits in Morocco, Tangier. As usual we entertained a load of ex-pats in the mess on the first day in. As the youngest chief in the mess I was given the task of looking after a 21-year-old girl for the afternoon and to make sure she got home alright at the end of the social. Great, you may have thought. Except she was fat. Not just fat, but obese, enormous. Some men have a thing about BBWs – Big Beautiful Women – but I’m afraid I’m not one of them. I have struggled with my weight on occasions, but I have always got down to a healthy level by exercise and diet. It only takes a bit of effort, will power and self-respect. I’m sure that there are some people with medical reasons that prevent them achieving a healthy weight, but I am equally sure that the vast majority are more concerned with binge drinking and Big Macs than what people may think. I have no great respect for such people.Now whether her problem was self-control or medical I do not know, but I just felt uncomfortable being with her but as a guest she had the right to at least a degree of civility from us. Eventually, mid-afternoon the party broke up and I was detailed to escort her home. It was about a twenty-minute walk and she talked incessantly and I played my part well. I also did the things my father taught me for being a gentleman; walking on the road side of the pavement, opening doors, smiling, talking about her and her life and so on. It must have really impressed her, and I think that maybe no-one had treated her with so much respect before, because as we reached her apartment she stopped, took my hand and said, “Will you come in with me?” I quickly declined on the grounds that I had work to do on board which had to be completed before we could sail in the morning. “Oh, you must”, she blushed, “I want to give you something really valuable”. This startled me. “Oh no, I really couldn’t, I don’t deserve anything”“I’m a virgin. I want you to make love to me”, she spoke quietly, eyes down. On the outside I was stunned, inside I was aghast. There was no way I could see this girl naked, the very though sickened me. I’m sure I made all the right noises about being honoured and what a privilege it would be, but I had to get back on board and so on. Reluctantly she let me go but said that she would pick me up later that evening. She kissed my cheek and went in.What an awful dilemma. It went very much against the grain for me to let anyone down, and it was really an honour to be asked, but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t. So, I took the coward’s way out. I hid on-board, not answering the many calls that went out, until the end of the evening. The following morning, we sailed. It is not something I am particularly proud of and I’m sure it didn’t do her much good emotionally, and if I mentioned to my mess mates that I had turned down the opportunity to de-flower a young girl I would never live it down. But worse things happen at sea.Our next port of call was Cape Town. My mate Ron had a girlfriend there – one of the sailor’s girl in every port girl – and he was bemoaning the fact that she always took her girlfriend everywhere with her, and it would cramp his style somewhat. Ever the gentleman I offered to take her off his hands. “Oh no, I wouldn’t do that to you”, he said. “Why not? She’s not fat is she?” “No” he replied. “She’s not 7 foot tall?” I asked. “No, she’s quite short and slim”. “No problems then, mate”.Big mistake. I think I’ve seen her since in the Lord of the Rings as one of Sauron’s henchmen. The point I am making is that contrary to common belief that men in general, and sailors in particular, check only for a pulse before shagging a woman is just not true (well, for me anyway). Indeed, during our time in Cape Town I got together with a very attractive girl and we attended dances and parties together and never did anything apart from kissing.Hong Kong was a different matter altogether. On our first night in with the usual bunch of ex-pats in the mess for a cocktail party one of our guests saw me behind the bar and positively drooled. Possibly because I was the youngest in the mess or maybe she just fancied me, but she came almost running across to me and asked my name, ignoring everyone else.Her name was Gloria Younger. She and her husband, James, had a factory in Hong Kong manufacturing fishing flies which sold world-wide. They seemed very successful and it appears he indulged her hobby of picking up young sailors. It was now my turn. She was about forty, tending towards plump but not excessively so, fabulously well dressed and bejewelled and rather attractive so I had no problem in allowing myself to be seduced.James was an alcoholic and was soon out of it. Gloria asked for my help in getting him home and I was glad to oblige. I helped him into their Jaguar and she drove us through the packed streets of Hong Kong past the magnificent hotels, along Gloucester Road then across the island passing the Happy Valley Race Course, possibly the most expensive real estate on earth, on into Aberdeen overlooking the bay with its sampans and floating restaurants. They had a penthouse by the bay in an imposing block with heavy security and an underground car park with lift direct to their place. And what a place! James was reasonably mobile by now, mobile enough to sit on a stool alongside a bar which would not have looked out of place in a hotel. Just about every common drink on optic of lined up on shelves behind the bar. The scotch, my drink of choice, was actually labelled “distilled and bottled for James Younger, Hong Kong”. This guy was seriously wealthy.“I’m just off to freshen up” said Gloria, “help yourself and James to a drink”. She left us alone. James poured me a scotch with a splash of water, and himself a large neat one. We talked for a while during which time he had a refill or two. There was no way I could even try keeping up with him. Then I heard Gloria calling, “Mike, come and help me”. I looked at James who shrugged and said, “You have to do as you’re told with Gloria” and turned back to the serious business of finishing a bottle.I walked the way she had left and was just passing one door when she called out “In here”. I entered.I was in a very large bathroom and in the middle of the room was a sunken bath, actually more of a small swimming pool. Gloria was sitting to one side covered in bubbles. An incongruous image of Amanda Barrie in “Carry on Cleo” swept through my mind and I’m sure my jaw dropped.“Come on in darling. I need my back scrubbing”, she giggled. It was quite obvious that she had done this before, even with James in the house, so I really didn’t hesitate too long before I stripped off and walked down the steps – yes, really, there were steps! – into the bath to join her. She reached out her arms and I lowered myself next to her. We kissed. What followed was a frenzy of kissing, hugging, soaping, scrubbing and most of all, feeling each over all over. We were both slippery and her hand on my cock was as exciting as my fingers slipping in and out of her cunt, all done with a great deal of splashing and laughing. I tried to enter her with my hot, wet, slippery, throbbing prick but she stopped me. She led me out of the bath and put a large white fluffy towel around me and rubbed me almost dry. I did the same to her with another. She then led me by the hand out of the bathroom and into the room opposite. It was a large bedroom with d****s on the wall, subdued lighting and glass sliding windows leading out to a balcony overlooking the bay with its twinkling lights on fishing boats. Magnificent.She pushed me backwards onto the large bed bent over and took me in her mouth avidly, sucking, licking and twisting her hand round and up and down. I had to stop her after a couple of minutes or it would have been too late.I pulled her onto the bed on top of her and kissed her deeply, my hands wandering down her back and caressing the cheeks of her arse. Her vulva was pressing hard on my cock and she ground down on me. I swung her round and lay on top, forcing her legs apart with mine. She reached down and guided my cock into her then raised her legs and wrapped them around my waist. I pushed into the hot warmth of her body and just reached the limit of my thrust as I felt the head of my cock touch her cervix. I withdrew almost fully before thrusting into the limit once more, and again, and again. All the time she was screaming, scratching and kicking against me, her head rolling from side to side, her eyes closed and her mouth open. Faced with that response and following weeks at sea it was hardly surprising that my cock soon spewed out spurt after spurt of semen deep into her. I slowed down gradually but left my deflating cock between her legs which she lowered and closed, holding me tight as we descended from the heights. We did that silly kissing thing, quick little ones on eyes, mouth, ears, neck as we relaxed. Then we spooned and rested.I’m pretty sure I nodded off, but I was very pleasantly awoken by a wet, warm familiar feeling around my cock. Being a gentleman, I swung her around and buried my face between her damp inviting thighs. God, how I love that smell, that taste, even though I know that its mine. I tongued my way up and down, in and out, around her little erect button. I have a gap between my front teeth and how she loved it when I sucked her clit in and lashed the captured clutch of nerve endings with the tip of my tongue. That woke us up and she was soon bouncing up and down on top of me with me grabbing and caressing her tits, her head thrown back.The rest of the night was a blur of wild activity, cuddles, snoozes, gentle nibbles and finally a deep sleep.Fortunately, the next day was a Sunday so I didn’t have to get back on board. There was no sign of James; Gloria told me he had his own room and wouldn’t be up until lunchtime at the earliest. She served me breakfast on the balcony overlooking the bay and to really start the day properly she knelt in front of me and sucked my cock in front of the 1.2 billion Chinese people, well maybe not quite that many and we were on the ninth floor. I wouldn’t have cared though, it was divine.We spent two weeks in Hong Kong on a maintenance period where the local team of engineers took over most of the work on board so I was left with Gloria most of the time. I spent many more nights there, with James keeping out of the way. I also got taking around her circle of friends some evenings where I think Gloria was showing off her “toy boy” (before the term came into fashion). One place we went to belonged to the senior HK Bomb Disposal Officer and I swear that his wife Mary was after a threesome, but Gloria kept her away from me; obviously she thought I didn’t have enough to go around!All too soon there were tears on the jetty as an extremely knackered Chief Petty Officer waved from the flight deck and looked forward to weeks at sea and some much-needed rest.And we headed back to Pompey.We hadn’t been back in Pompey for long before the Icelandic Cod Wars broke out and we set sail again. This involved us working for a couple of months in mountainous seas protecting our trawlers from Icelandic gunboats. At one stage we were rammed by Icelandic gunboat Thor which had a section of railway track welded to its superstructure as a battering ram. Fortunately there was only minor damage, but it could have been serious. I was glad I wasn’t on the trawlers though, in those seas. Not a lot of sex on that trip, but I did have the freshest and best Cod and Chips ever. I swear its tail flapped in the batter! And I grew a beard. Now I have a thing about beards and the people who wear them. I don’t like them; too often they are worn by overweight men with tattoos wearing leather and with a high opinion of themselves. I can’t believe that women would want to be with a man like that or be kissed by him (except perhaps between the legs for the “tickle factor”). But we were going off to a cold, hostile place and the Captain thought that a beard-growing contest would add a bit of fun to the trip. You don’t just stop shaving in the Navy, you must put in a formal request to “discontinue shaving”, then when you wish to shave it off you must request again to “commence shaving”. So most of us on board started to get hirsute. I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised with my effort and decided to keep it when we returned to Portsmouth. Naturally Margaret hated it and ordered me to get rid of it just as I was getting used to it. I did try to “tickle her fancy” a couple of times first though and she enjoyed that, especially as she had shaved just for my return (or so she claimed; I think one of her lovers asked her to). However, I did put in my request and shortly after shaved off. Needless to say, as soon as I did Margaret said that she preferred me with the beard. I have never succumbed again though.Chapter 6This may be a good time for a bit of self-analysis and an attempt to explain my motivations in my marriage. Firstly, I’m assuming that as you are still reading this story the idea that a man can enjoy watching his wife being fucked and get sexual satisfaction out of it is not revolting to you, perhaps even titillating, or maybe you too have tried it or would like to. So why does it turn me on? Some may say that it is a repressed homosexuality. I’m not too sure about that. In my 24 years in the Navy I must have seen hundreds, if not thousands of naked men of all ages and descriptions and not once have I had the slightest urge to do anything with any of them. I have had opportunities; even though in those days homosexuals were banned and could be imprisoned but we all knew which were that way inclined. One guy in my very early days was leaving the ship in Bahrain and during his last night went around the mess giving farewell blow jobs. He probably didn’t fancy me as I was missed out and I can’t say I was too upset.A lot of it is voyeurism. I love to watch all sorts of activities. As a schoolboy I used to climb our apple tree in the back garden to watch the girl next door get undressed for bed. She never drew her curtains and I guess she knew I was there, though she would totally ignore me when we bumped into each other. But then she was eighteen and I was only f******n. Yet strangely I have never been much for strip shows. I used to go to be one of the lads, of course, in Newcastle, abroad, London, at stag nights and so on, but because I knew they were staged and not real they did nothing for me. Even the sex shows I saw in Hamburg had no effect when I went with shipmates, though strangely when Margaret and I went to the same city I persuaded her to see a show and that was a turn on, but I was watching her, not the stage.Associated with voyeurism is my appreciation of all things beautiful and this could get me into trouble because I adore seeing beautiful c***dren, boys and girls. But I have no sexual interest in them; I also like a****ls such as dogs but that does not make me bestial. As far as paedophilia goes. I think it is more to do with the exercise of power than a need for sex. And my predilections are the exact opposite to the exercise of power.Perhaps my category is cuckold? Maybe, but I would dispute that on the grounds that it infers submissiveness and I have never required her to be dominant in our relationship. Yes, Margaret does cuckold me, but normally this is at my request though as I have mentioned she has at times taken it upon herself to go behind my back but I am not sure this meets the definition, rather it is infidelity but that unfortunately brings in the notion of disrespect, something which has worried me and has threatened our relationship.The category I would be most content with is wife-watcher. This may be more complex that just voyeurism of the wife because an added requirement for the perfect situation is that Margaret must fully engage, want to do what she is doing and, most importantly let herself go and give her partner the best experience of his life. And she must orgasm too. I would never make her fuck anyone she didn’t really want to fuck before I suggested it,The added complication to my self-analysis, and which the attentive reader would have picked up on, is my frequent reference to eating other men’s cum out of Margaret’s cunt and off her body. If that isn’t gay, I hear you say, what is. Well, firstly, I refer my learned reader to my comment on the hordes of naked men I have seen without a single twitch of the old penile muscles (yes, I know there are no muscles in the prick but you know what I mean). Then, at that time any fantasies involving men always include Margaret. I do admit, however, that a recurring and strong fantasy is my involvement in a threesome with Margaret and her lover but that really is an extension of my voyeuristic thing plus extra stimulus for Margaret plus being nearer the source of her orgasm and having warmer juices to luxuriate in. But I will admit that later in my life I started thinking of tasting the source of her lover’s juices first hand. But that’s for later.But I think the real nub of my philosophy is my desire to see others happy. In every aspect of life, I always give others the benefit of the doubt; I wave people through when I’m driving; I hold doors open for men, women and c***dren; if people owe me money and don’t pay I assume they have trouble doing so and let them off. I got more satisfaction when I was the coach for the Wrens inter-service team and they won than when I won the Navy Individual Championship. Once, I was sure that one of my team members cheated, rather than bring disgrace on the club and him I disqualified his and my own cards on a technicality. In many ways this is a weakness as well as a strength. Often I am just not forceful enough. But in the case of sex I would far rather see others enjoy themselves rather than achieve orgasm myself. It is a bonus if they both happen. As a practical demonstration, Margaret was fascinated with s**tology (defecating and urinating) and she once asked if I could piss on her. I did that for her when she lay in the bath, covering her all over. She appeared to enjoy it and may even have come. After a couple more of these, and with great hesitation, she asked if she could watch me shit. She knelt naked between my legs and watched carefully, her hand playing with her cunt. Then she wiped my arse for me. Finally, and it must have taken a lot of courage for her to say this, she asked me to shit on her tits. Of course I did it for her; though it did nothing for me (quite the opposite), the look on her face was my reward. That scratched her itch for her and she never mentioned it again. That is my thing, pleasing others.But of course I have had other women so how does that tie in? I wasn’t doing it because my wife was turned on by it. Far from it, Margaret would most certainly not allow me to have sex with another woman. The couple of occasions that I have admitted to having had affairs have usually followed long periods of very poor relations with Margaret and on each occasion, frankly, I couldn’t have cared less if she walked out on me and I told her so at the time. And on each occasion, she immediately forgave me and our sex life improved tremendously. And as regards to the other occasions, I did not ever initiate sex but when it was offered with no strings attached I plead guilty to gratefully accepting it. How many men would not?Now back to the storyMy two years on the Falmouth came to an end and I got sent back to HMS Collingwood as an instructor in Radar Theory teaching artificers and mechanicians. I took over the Shooting Club again and Margaret got a job behind the bar at the Collingwood Club. So we settled in to another phase in our life.We had moved again, this time to a small estate still in Portchester, to a semi with a large extension with cloakroom. This gave us more room to play.As I was settled again and wouldn’t be doing duties at night or going away for a while, when Margaret came home one night and said that she had been hit on and would it be alright to play I was more inclined to say that she could, but on the usual terms. The beneficiary of her appetite this time was a fellow chief petty officer called Bill who I knew reasonably well. I was a bit baffled as to why she had picked him out. She was still extremely attractive but Bill was nothing special. The same height as me, which wasn’t a lot, he was certainly heavier, wasn’t good at any sport that I knew of and had no particular reputation that I knew about. Margaret explained that what attracted him to her was that he had dark hair, but incredibly blue eyes and she found this to be an extreme turn on. He was also part of the inner circle in the Chiefs’ Mess. This was an enormous mess with about 500 members so was almost a business in itself. Chiefs were allowed to run their own affairs with the occasional audit by a senior officer just to keep things in check. It was due to an audit that Bill met Margaret. One of the things the auditors check is the bar stock and as usual there was a discrepancy which had to be sorted before the audit commenced. To rectify the situation the mess would borrow the requisite number of barrels from the Collingwood Club, the organisation run by the NAAFI for junior rates and where Margaret worked. It was Bill who went along to pick up the barrels and Margaret who took him to the cellar. One thing led to another and he chatted her up. For a couple of nights he drank in the Collingwood Club and tried his luck. And one night his numbers came up.Margaret had told me about him, how persistent he was and how she fancied him. Could she fuck him?The following night she made an extra special effort with herself, including a crocheted top and no bra so the junior rates in the Collingwood Club that night got a bonus as well. She finished about 11.00pm usually and I told her she had to home by midnight else she would turn into an ex-wife. I know that this didn’t give her much time, but I wanted a quick fix too. As usual I fidgeted then played with myself after putting k**s to bed, then hucked out hidden copies of Fiesta and fantasised. Almost on the stroke of midnight she pulled up and came in looking dishevelled and flushed. I asked if he was as good as she hoped, and she answered. “Better!”Bill lived not too far away from Collingwood and travelled by bike usually. He had told his wife Sue that he had a mess committee meeting, though I believe that he treated her with scant respect anyway and very much did what he wanted. After Margaret had finished work he had got into the front seat of our car and she drove him to Tanners Lane which is a farm path alongside Collingwood – no time wasted there then! Even though it only took minutes for her to find a reasonably concealed spot to park his hand had been up her skirt, panties pulled aside and had inserted his fingers. He knew that she was his to do with as he wanted. She told me that with his fingers still inside her she reached over and pulled his face to hers and tongued him deeply. His other hand was now under her top and squeezing her tits. It was Margaret who suggested going into the back of the car and very quickly he was sitting in the back with Margaret’s mouth over his prick and his hands running over her naked back.Even though Margaret gives an excellent blow job, Bill was anxious to use the most of the limited time available and wanted to fuck. She has no problems with being naked in a car and she and I have done that often enough, so it did not surprise me when she told me she stripped completely for him, much to his delight, trying all the time to keep his cock in her mouth while she undressed. Incidentally she told me his cock was only average. I was disappointed for her. Maybe I read too much porn.He laid her down now along the seat, pushed his trouser down his thighs and lifted her legs over his shoulders before plunging in to her very inviting and wet cunt. One thing that pleased her was that he could last so long (I imagine he was calculating hexadecimal numbers up to 1024 as I do). This really aroused her and so when he paused for a second and then with a grunt thrust deep down into her, she was happy to join him in a screaming orgasm.After an unwinding cuddle and frequent kisses, she dressed and drove him home. The following morning, he had to walk to work to get his bike. Shame, or maybe I should have bought a bike carrier for the car! I did check out the car in the morning and, sure enough, there was a large stain right in the middle of the rear seat.I got my usual feel, lick and fuck. One of the fringe benefits of allowing Margaret to fuck around is that she is obliged to pay for her pleasures. Or, as I like to think, she is still so aroused she needs even more. Without her fringe benefits I would probably not get so much sex or it would be more boring. She asked if she could have longer with him and I put her off for the moment. I had a plan.After two late night fucks with Bill, each time in Tanners Lane, I decided that the time had come to actually get closer to the action. I would watch. Now previously when I had asked to watch her, Margaret had refused on the grounds that it wouldn’t be fair on her lover. Now call me naïve if you must but I think her lover was getting his benefits anyway and a secret watcher would not affect the pleasure he would be getting as a freebie. But what the eye does not see………So, on the third night I knew she would be fucking him I made sure the k**s were asleep. They were 12 and 8 at the time and I didn’t think there would be a problem. They rarely if ever awoke and never came into us if they did. At 10:45 I felt confident enough to leave them alone for an hour. I was dressed in my shooting camouflage gear and a balaclava helmet and was soon riding my motor bike to Collingwood. It took me less than 15 minutes to arrive at Tanners Lane and find somewhere to hide the bike and myself. Ten minutes later I saw my car drive along the bumpy track and pull up alongside a stand of trees hiding them from the lights of Collingwood nearby. I waited for a minute or two until they got out, opened the back doors and climbed in. Quick as a flash I ran to be close to the car, quiet in my trainers and confident that their night vision would be impaired with the interior light on for the 30 seconds or so it took to go out. I got close enough before the light extinguished to see them with arms around each other kissing deeply. The windows were not yet misted up so for a few minutes I had a clear few of their movements without having to get too close. Illuminated by the glow from the lights of the Wardroom and Officers’ cabin block immediately adjacent I had a good view of their love making. There was much activity as they undressed quickly, throwing their clothes onto the front seats. The main benefit for me was that their naked bodies were much easier to see in the poor light, so I was fully aware of what was happening when I saw Margaret dip down on Bill’s lap as he lay back on the seat. I was near enough to see her head move up and down on his lap and his mouth open. I was fairly certain his eyes were closed but didn’t take the risk of moving closer. Yet.After a few minutes Margaret rose off his lap and put his arms around him and they kissed deeply. His hands were just about visible caressing her naked body, her stomach, her tits and down out of sight. She pulled him down over her body and raised her right leg, the foot resting on the back of the front passenger seat. Now was my chance. She could not see me from below the rear door window and his eyes were looking down at her as he took in the sight before him of my wife’s naked body. I quickly ran around the other side of the car and closed in, so I was looking down behind him lying on top of Margaret. She could not see me with his body in the way and was far too aroused to be aware of anything other than the presence of a cock now pumping into her body. I watched as his naked arse rise and plunge deep into her cunt, her bare white legs now wrapped around his waist. I got out my cock and wanked in double time with his plunges and her responses as she met every thrust with a counter thrust. I don’t think any of us lasted long on that occasion. Despite being about three feet from the car I’m sure I splattered the bodywork and I know Bill had well and truly splattered hers.I quickly put my cock away and hid in the bushes as they kissed, cuddled and got dressed. Finally, Margaret drove off to take him home and I was able to get on my motor bike and get home before her. When she finally arrived I asked her, as usual, to tell me what happened, and she detailed exactly what I had seen. I began to think I could trust her again. “Next time”, I said, “you can have until half twelve”. In gratitude she sucked my cock until I came in her mouth and, as she prefers, she swallowed it all.So now I had had a fairly good view of Margaret fucking but I then started wondering what they said during their love-making. I am an electronics engineer but this was well before the age of consumer electronic equipment such as bugging devices. So I made my own.I got a battery operated cassette recorder and split the battery circuit with two pieces of aluminium foil divided by paper. To each of the pieces of foil I had attached a wire. When the wires were shorted the recorder was live. To create the short, I made three pressure pads which completed the circuit to the recorder when any one of them was activated. These I now positioned within the front passenger seat and both sides of the back seat so that if anyone sat in the passenger seat or anywhere in the back the recorder would switch on. The microphone I hid between the two front seats facing to the rear. I inserted a C120 cassette which would give me 60 minutes of recordings and then switched to record. First, I checked it would work by watching the recorder as I sat in the front passenger seat. The tape turned. I checked the back with equal success then hid the recorder under the driver’s seat.I knew that Margaret was seeing him again that night so waited in anticipation. She took almost all the extra time I had allowed her before returning home. We fucked as usual as she told me about her night, much the same as usual but they did it twice, the latter time with her sitting on his lap allowing him full access to her tits as she repeatedly lifted up and fully down on his cock. The amount of lubrication I felt was evidence of the extra load she took that night.The following morning I removed the tape from the hidden recorder and listened to it on the car stereo as I drove to work. The first few minutes were very indistinct as the microphone was hidden and pointing to the rear. Then they were in the back seat. Unfortunately, the quality was not brilliant but I could hear snatches of sentences – “missed you”, “love you” – but mainly groans, heavy breathing, grunting, clothing being removed and finally a sequence where he was fucking her and the tape went off and on as he lifted off the pressure pad and then back down. The screams and moans I heard on that journey to work made the tape shoot straight up my personal hit parade to number one. The final section I remember very well.Bill: “I wish you were coming home with me instead of going back to Mike”. Margaret: “I wish I was too, I would fuck with you all night. I love you”. Then kisses and the sound of clothing before he got back into the front and was taken home with very poor recording quality of voices making the words indecipherable. I listened to that tape until it was worn out, often at night at home when I knew that at the same time they were in the car parked up somewhere and doing just what I was listening to.I also bugged the telephone as I had seen Bill, at work, every morning go to the telephone box during his break. I was convinced he was ringing Margaret and I was right. They spoke daily about sex and what they would do next time they met. Margaret is usually quite shy but these conversations left nothing to the imagination. I did challenge her about whether it was getting serious and she denied it. She did say that she often led him on and gave the impression it was true love but it was his body and cock she was after, nothing more. Actually I did believe her. There was one night that the mess had a big social evening and Margaret and I dressed up for it. The night was formal, so I was in Mess Undress and bow tie; Margaret wore a long white gown with slit up to mid-thigh. She looked stunning.Naturally she got chatted up by many of my mates and eventually we were in the company of Bill and his wife. We talked sociably for a while then as I was talking to Sue I noticed Bill take Margaret slightly to one side and whisper to her. Sue didn’t notice, and I pretended not to. I saw Margaret nod and Bill came closer to us. “I’ve just got to go in the office and sort something out” he told his wife. Her eyes rolled as she was obviously used to being treated in an off-hand manner like this. He left us, walking to the main entrance. Margaret beckoned me with a movement of her head and a touch to my elbow and moved a few paces back. I excused myself and went to her. She whispered in my ear, “Bill wants me to go to the duty cabin with him. He’s there waiting”. What a nerve, I thought. With both his wife and me there he wanted to fuck my wife not 50 yards from where we stood. I hesitated for just a second. “OK, but not for long”. She smiled, squeezed my hand, turned and headed for the main entrance. I watched her tight arse syncopate away in her flowing dress. It didn’t occur to me at the time but afterwards I wondered how she knew which one was the duty cabin out of them all in the block.I returned to Sue who was standing with a hand on her hip and one leg forward. I remembered commenting that it was an aggressive pose. She surprised me by saying that Bill tells her to stand like that. Curious, it was the sort of pose that a prostitute took when touting at the roadside.However, I quickly said that I had to go to the loo and excused myself. I actually ran over the road and around the back of the accommodation block to where the duty cabin window was. I was in luck as the curtains weren’t quite fully drawn. Not a perfect view but enough to see Bill helping Margaret out of her long dress to stand there in white bra, panties, suspenders and stockings before him. He sat on the bed and pulled down her pants then dived at her cunt with his mouth, her hands pulling his face hard into her body, her head back and eyes closed. One of his hands worked its way up her leg and thigh, her legs parting at the touch, to supplement the work of his tongue. I saw rather than heard her gasp as he plunged his fingers into her and search around inside, then pump them in and out, slowly then faster, then frantically. After a few minutes of this she pushed him back and dropped to her knees. It was his turn. She helped him off with his jacket, unbuttoned his trousers and inched them and his pants down over his knees. The only reason I had such a good view was that he fell back onto the bed, knees over the side and his head resting on the ledge of the window I was peering through. I had a marvellous view of my wife taking his cock in both hands and lick around the head, her tongue tasting the hole at the tip before slowly sinking her lips down its length. She fully engulfed it at the first attempt, paused for a moment for her tongue to lick his ball sac before pulling back leaving his cock glistening in the dim cabin light. Her lips closed totally round the head of his cock and I saw her cheeks move in and out as she tongued and sucked her favourite bit. Then it was up and down again, faster at first then slowly to tease. It had to happen after all that loving ministration. His hips shot up and I saw his prick throb and spurt into her waiting mouth. As soon as she felt it cum her lips clamped over the head so as to not miss a drop. After what seemed like ages of pulsating cock action she slowly pulled back, pursing her lips as she did so to clean him off. Then finally it was out of her mouth and she wiped her forearm across her mouth and licked her lips clean. She bent once more to kiss the end then looked up at him and smiled. She watched his cock slowly shrink, holding his balls as she did so. They struggled to their feet, embraced and kissed deeply before she dressed herself. I left at that stage and quickly got back into the mess, found Sue and was chatting away when they returned separately, Margaret coming back first. She twinkled and smiled at me. I reached for her hand and held it, pulling her gently towards me. I leant forward and kissed her, pushing my tongue into her mouth forcing her lips apart. I probed deeply and pulled back. I looked quizzically at her; she smiled and gave the barest nod. Bill came back shortly after with a grin on his face like the cat who had got the cream. I laughed to myself knowing that it was Margaret who had got the cream. We left at the end of the evening with Margaret driving and me with my hand in her pants, later to make love for hours. I never told her that I had watched them that night. In total their affair went on for about two months and it then slowly tailed off as they both got used to each other and the thrill of the new ebbed away. They did meet up for a daylight session one afternoon though. They went to Portchester Castle and on the green actually made love within sight of visitors to the keep, just for that bit of extra spice. Chapter 7It was now 1976, a year famous for its hot summer and forest fires. Margaret had settled down after her extended affair with Bill and left the Collingwood Club to work as a barmaid much nearer to home, at the Cormorant near Portchester Castle. She was proving popular, dressing provocatively and flirting with young and old. It was to prove a good hunting ground for her that year.Meanwhile I had been picked as adjutant for the Portsmouth Command Rifle Team which involved doing all the administrative work in preparation for two weeks at Bisley; in the first week were the inter-services competitions with the Naval Commands shooting against each other, army regiments and RAF units, plus overseas military personnel. It really was the shooting highlight of the year for the Armed Forces. Following that we would stay for Bisley Week where marksmen came from all over the world to shoot in many famous competitions. For all this I was given six weeks off. I was now a Classification Range Supervisor which meant I could run shooting ranges for all types of shooting; sub-machine gun, pistol, target rifles, assault rifles etc. I also had access to rifle ranges throughout the South of England, naval and military. There was one occasion I took a small team up to an army range in Longmoor for some SMG work. After a morning of shooting we piled the weapons in the boot of my car (very casual with weapons those days; impossible now) and on the way back decided to pop into a pub for a cool drink. The weather was just heating up towards the record temperatures that were to come that summer. We were dressed in a hotchpotch of kit as the day was informal. I had elements of combat gear and jeans on I remember, others had bits on Navy stuff and odds and ends. Very un-professional. We hadn’t been in the pub long when three middle-aged women walked in. I don’t know why, but I had the immediate impression that they were wives of army officers given our location, the way they talked and their manner of dress. When they saw us across the room I sensed disapproval at first but when they worked out that we were Navy and not local they sat down and chatted away.You know how it is; you are just sitting there and you feel that someone is looking at you. I looked up. One of the women quickly glanced away but I knew that she had been staring. After a minute or two she looked up again towards me. This time she caught me looking at her and I quickly looked away as she did too. This happened once or twice more, each time we held the look just a bit longer until we were holding our gaze. I smiled at her for the first time, and she smiled back, then dropped her eyes and carried on talking to her friends who seemed oblivious to what she was doing. The next time we looked at each other I took the chance. I smiled again and just gave a very slight nod. I wasn’t sure, but I thought that she had nodded back. As I’ve already said, I am at heart a shy person who doesn’t like the thought of rejection but this seemed too good a chance to miss. I told the lads I was just going for a piss and walked towards the toilets which were in the other bar. Fortunately, the pub was very quiet that time of the day. I walked past their table without looking and headed to the other bar where I paused. After a minute or two I thought that I had misread the situation but she must have tried to make it not too obvious to her friends by waiting a bit longer. She came into the empty bar, saw me and smiled as did I. Without talking I reached out my hand which she took without hesitation and we walked into the beer garden on this wonderful summer’s day. Still without saying a word we found a quiet spot behind some bushes and fell into each other’s arms. The situation was obvious to us both. This was not the start of a wonderful love affair; we would never see each other again after that day. From her point of view, she was slumming it with a bit of rough stuff, the equivalent of a squaddie from the garrison but with less chance of being discovered and the embarrassment that would follow. So we dived straight in, no time for much foreplay, our hands roaming over each other’s body, my hand running up her leg pulling her dress up to her groin. My fingers roughly pulled aside her panties and dived in to what was a very welcoming place. Her legs parted for me and her knees buckled slightly. We each had an arm around the other’s shoulders, our lips pressed hard together with tongues playing in concert. Her other hand had gone straight to the front of my jeans, undid the waist button and forced down the zip, diving into my pants to grab a willing and throbbing prick. After a few short moments she removed her arm from my shoulders and with both hands was pushing my jeans down over my thighs. I turned her around and she leant forward to grasp the back of a garden bench. I flung her skirt up over her back, pulled the gusset of her pants to one side and thrust into the prepared cavern. We actually rutted like wild a****ls, thrusting and grunting together, the occasional gasp slipping from her lips as I touched a particularly sensitive spot. We couldn’t and didn’t waste any time. I was soon pumping in to her as her fingers whitened on the bench back and a choking, gasping sound escaped her lips as she felt the wetness and warmth of my sperm fill her most secret parts. It really was rough and ready. We didn’t hang around too long, both aware of the risk of discovery and quickly made ourselves respectable. She went first, a gentle touch of her hand and a little kiss on the cheek as she left. I waited a bit before I too re-joined my friends. We did not look at each other as I passed their table. I don’t think either of us aroused suspicions and the whole episode couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes. It was only on the way back that I realised we hadn’t spoken a word. And I never did see her again.Before I disappeared to Bisley for the two weeks of shooting competitions Margaret excitedly told me of a 21-year-old regular at the Cormorant who came on to her and who she really, really wanted to fuck. His name was Colin; he lived close by with his mother and father and was very good looking. Could she please, pretty please, go home with him one night? How on earth could I turn her down, especially she had kaçak iddaa an arm around me with her other hand rubbing up and down the front of my trousers. “Usual rules apply”, I told her and looked forward to hearing about her first time with him.I didn’t have long to wait as he was in the pub that night and was very pleasantly surprised when she accepted his invitation to go home “for a coffee”. She drove him as he didn’t have a car and entered his house with him. She was very surprised when she found that his mum and dad were still up waiting for him. He introduced her and in response to their questioning she told them she was a divorcee with no k**s and was a friend of Colin’s. They didn’t seem at all surprised when Colin bid them goodnight and led her up to his room. Typically untidy, she told me, but at least he cleared off the bed before putting his arms around her and sinking down on it. She told me he was very impatient and wasted no time unbuttoning her blouse and slipping it off her shoulders, quickly followed by her bra. He paused only to paw her tits and nibble at her nipples before undoing the skirt and sliding it over her hips. She enthusiastically helped in all of this, keen to see him undress which he quickly did as she lay on her back watching and breathing heavily. His erection was huge she told me, and she didn’t waste a minute getting it in her mouth. As I have mentioned many times she is a consummate sucker of cocks but she was aware that if she was too good he would cum in her mouth and she would miss out on feeling that great throbbing young cock in her, or so she thought. She needn’t have worried as he soon pulled out and without ceremony dived between her thighs and lifted her legs over his shoulders before impatiently driving deep into her. The discomfort of her position was alleviated by the feeling of deep penetration, as deep as she has ever had it before she said. His thrusting was making the bed shake and squeak under her and even though she knew his parents must hear she was practically screaming with the pleasure of it. His youth and inexperience caused him to come quickly, but his youth also produced great streams of cum and she told me she could feel every hot liquid drop bursting in her. The other advantage of youth, she told me, was that within minutes he was ready again – helped in no small part by her mouth around his cock slimy with his sperm and her juices. His imagination was obviously heavily influenced watching American porn as he asked if he could cum on her face. We have done that a few times but as far as I know this was her first time with another man. She was more than happy to agree because she adored watching a lover’s face as he came. He sat astride her stomach and with one hand playing with her tits he wanked in her face, slowly at first then quicker and quicker. Margaret watched his face as his mouth opened, then his eyes closed and his head went back. With a little cry he stopped wanking and her eyes shot down to his cock in time to see streams of white cum fly towards her face. She felt the warm splashes across her lips, her cheeks and her eyes which she shut just in time. Colin collapsed on her body and panted, head turned away. After a few moments to recover Margaret groped on the floor, found his underpants and wiped his cum off her face. She then got dressed, not at all helped by Colin’s groping at her tits and arse. As she went downstairs to be shown out, his parents shouted goodnight from the front room. Realising that his bedroom was directly above them and due to the shaking bed and the enthusiasm of her love making it was quite obvious what they were up to, for once she was embarrassed. There was a bit of a bonus for me that night. She obviously felt the need to give me a special reward to letting her fuck such a prize. When she got in I was still up, so she stood in front of me and threw off her clothes completely. She ordered me to lie down in front of the fire then straddled my face with her naked body, pushing her still-wet cunt down onto my mouth, leant forward with her hands on my hips and gave me her present, grinding down on me. She followed that with a wonderful suck. I do like 69’ers.Not too long after that Margaret and I were taking the dogs for a walk, heading to the foreshore, when she suddenly stopped me. Pointing to two people ahead of us, walking away, she told me that these were Colin’s parents. We hung back for a bit until they turned into a detached house. This, I assumed, was where Colin lived, which Margaret confirmed. Her regular night with Colin had settled down to a Wednesday and on each occasion he had easily managed two cums. She felt that if she didn’t have to get home he could easily manage another.The following week I ensured that the k**s were asleep and jumped on my trusty Honda motorbike, rode the half mile or so and parked around the corner from Colin’s parents’ house. I didn’t have too long to wait before she pulled up in our car; they got out and entered the house. Very shortly afterwards, I presumed after having gone through the motions with his parents, the upstairs light came on as they went up. I rushed over to see if there was an opportunity to spy but unfortunately Colin was just pulling the curtains across as I got to the back of the house. I waited a minute or two before giving up, but as I walked around the side of the house I was attracted by the light in the window and looked up. It was another of those scenes which remain engrained in my memory. I saw Margaret coming out of what was obviously the bathroom. She paused then stood still for a moment and unbuttoned her top and removed it. She had just slipped a bra strap down ready to take it off when she moved out of my view. It was obvious that she intended entering his bedroom ready for action. I felt that familiar pang of pain and arousal tighten across my chest and waited just a bit longer just to imagine and relish the thought of the writhing naked bodies just yards away from me as my wife was being fucked by another man yet again. Shortly after the time came around for me to go to Bisley for two weeks. Margaret arranged with old nanny Lil to baby sit for her while she worked at the Cormorant. She asked if I would mind if she brought Colin home one night as she felt too constrained in his house with his parents present. I asked about Lil finding out but she assured me she would be discrete. So I consented, not wishing to spoil her fun. Besides, I had plans of my own and this fitted in perfectly.The first few days at Bisley were frenetic. As adjutant I was responsible for the establishment of our camp, security of weapons, programme of events and so on. We were billeted in a line of large army tents with beds and cupboards already erected by the duty army regiment which this year was the Ghurkhas. Our weapons were kept under guard at a central armoury and we had our own armourer to issue and maintain them as necessary.Once settled in we found a watering hole. Traditionally the Naval teams adopted the Artists’ Rifles Clubhouse on Bisley itself. At that time it was run by a rather effete individual called Stuart. The club itself was founded by the Artists Rifle Volunteers which was a regiment comprising of artists, actors, musicians and sculptors and raised in 1859. Nowadays it is very much an exclusive dining club for leading journalists, military personnel and adventurers. In 1976 it was a watering hole for randy matelots. I quickly got my feet under this particular table, was given the run of the club including a key and ended up almost as assistant manager, social secretary and chief cook. Thus started a brilliant fortnight. But first I had plans for the Wednesday night.I had brought my motor bike with me in one of the big lorries, one of the perks of being the adjutant. After supper on Wednesday night I made the excuse that I was popping into Guildford to see an old friend. I naturally gave the impression that it was a woman just to enhance my reputation, but actually made my way home, timing it to get there before eleven o’clock. To appreciate what I was up to you need to appreciate the layout of our house. Imagine a normal semi-detached house with kitchen at the back with door out to the side and an “L” shaped lounge with one leg of the “L” heading towards the door into the kitchen with a window at the back of the house. Now build on a large extension at the back of the house with the lounge window replaced by double sliding glass doors leading into a large room with a cloakroom to one side with a small lobby and another door leading into the garden. The wall opposite the sliding doors contained windows alongside the whole length. The double doors had curtains over them to allow some privacy from the view through the extension’s large number of windows. In the extension by the sliding doors was a bar on castors with quilted front and “glass” (actually plastic) front.The extension was never used during the night as the lounge was far more comfortable with great deep armchairs and padded sofas. I parked up my bike out of sight, walked around the front of the house and checked that Lil was in the lounge watching television and waiting for Margaret. I then went to the back of the house and unlocked the door to the extension and crept in, locking it behind me. I went over to the bar and lay down on the floor behind it. As always at night the curtains were drawn but before I had left I had ensured that the side to the wall was not completely closed so that with the bar close to the door I was able to see into the room almost fully, including watching Lil sunk in the big sofa hardly awake. I had realised that if anyone needed to use the downstairs loo they would come into the extension but the bar was big enough to hide me fully, and there was nothing behind the bar that would be needed.I didn’t have too long to wait fortunately as it was a bit cramped lying there trying to keep quiet. I had assumed that Margaret would come in, wait until Lil got off to bed before letting her lover in so I was rather taken aback when the front door opened and she came in with this young lad. Lil didn’t seem in the slightest bit surprised, smiled at him and had a quick conversation before wishing them goodnight and disappearing upstairs. So she was in on Margaret’s affairs, probably happy to help in revenge for her awful marriage to her violent drunkard of a husband.Colin did look rather young, fairly tall, blondish hair and slim. I could see why she had been flattered by his attention and fancied him. It must have been as good for her ego as for his to have access to a good looking randy married womanThey both sunk back into the enormous deep sofa and spent some time kissing before he stood up and pulled her to him. A brief cuddle and whisper followed then they both completely stripped off. Why waste time with foreplay!I half expected them to go upstairs to our bed. Would that have upset me? Well, yes, but only because I wouldn’t have been able to watch and I have no problem with the knowledge that she had fucked lovers in my bed. In fact, I would lie there at night imagining it.Now naked they sat back on the sofa and explored each other’s bodies with hands and lips working themselves up frantically. Finally Margaret pulled away and fell to her knees between his legs and grabbed his rather good looking cock and dived onto it giving him one of her Premier Division blow jobs. He lay back, eyes closed, and relished every touch of her lips and tongue and throat. I now saw what Margaret meant by the advantages of youth as hips thrust upwards into her mouth, his hands pushed her head downwards and he pumped his sperm into her. Margaret obviously knew that this would not be the end of the evening and was relishing what must have been just the first taste of cum. After licking her lips to catch what she had missed and wiping her mouth she jumped back up next to him and kissed. He didn’t have a problem with the taste still being in her mouth as I saw their tongues entwine. It was Colin’s turn now to kneel on the floor and Margaret leant back and opened her legs wide to allow his tongue to explore deep inside her, then sucking gently on her labia and licking the nub of her clit. By the look on her face and with her hands holding his face down between her legs, she was finding this totally arousing. Her body reacted violently at times as she approached her climax then I could see the orgasm shoot through her body in a paroxysm of lust. The sound, the sight and the feel of her orgasm was the trigger for him to achieve another full erection. He now stood and pulled her up. After a passionate kiss and grope he turned her round and knelt her on the sofa with her white rounded arse facing him. He bent forward and kissed her cheeks and reached his fingers into her. I thought for a moment that he was about to fuck her arse. We had done that a few times, but she didn’t find it particularly arousing, just different. But it wasn’t to be sodomy tonight. Wantonly Margaret reached around a pulled aside the cheeks of her arse exposed the wet, red gash of her cunt, an invitation which he quickly accepted driving his prick deep and hard into her pushing her against the back of the sofa. He grabbed her hips and brutally thrust again and again. Her mouth opened with every push and even through the double glazing of the sliding doors I could hear the sound of her pleasure. Faster and faster, holding harder and harder onto her hips causing a redness that would take days to disappear, he went until, with a short pause with his cock almost fully out, he pushed one more time and stayed deep inside her pumping out the young fertile sperm into her womb. Then they both collapsed onto the sofa, a mix of heaving, writhing bodies and panting breasts.After a few minutes Colin sat up and pulled her across his lap, his arm around her shoulders. They both looked utterly exhausted. They talked quietly together with the occasional little kiss and Colin’s hands gently stroking and squeezing her tits, occasionally reaching down to fondle between her legs which she happily parted for him.I have to admit that by this time I had cum into a bunch of tissues I had prepared so I too was breathing heavily and getting aroused again as I watched by naked wife in the arms of a handsome young boy. But that was the end of the evening for them. After an intense embrace, Colin got dressed and Margaret, still naked led him by the hand to the door which I could not see but I am sure he kissed and fondled her one more time before walking off home, no doubt with a spring in his young step. Margaret came back into the lounge, picked up her clothes and turned to go to bed. I swear she still had a smile on her face.Shortly after I crept out of the house, locked up and made my way back to my bike and Bisley.That first week at Bisley was hard work as the competitions were based on combat situations and required us to wear full combat clothing, including in one competition a gas mask and having to run 500 metres, firing at every 100. This was the hottest summer of the century and the Navy invoked a naval regulation originally intended to help when stokers had to do some particularly hot work in the boiler rooms in the tropics. They sent out an urn of “Limers”. Needless to say, by the end of each day we looked forward to some real refreshment and that meant the bar at the Artists clubhouse. The clubhouse was not as well appointed in those days, and in fact was a bit shabby, but it was still the bar of choice for many of the local middle class (we were in deepest Surrey after all) due to its history and the cachet of being the spiritual home of so many of thenoted intelligentsia from the past, many of whose portraits hung on the walls. If we matelots were a little more sensitive we may have felt out of place in the company but in fact we all mixed very well indeed, especially with the women. And no, I didn’t actively seek out a conquest, and yes, I did get one. I can’t even remember her name. I do remember that I walked under the moonlight on the world-famous Century Range (so called because it had a hundred firing positions) with her, we groped against a tent which almost collapsed, were sworn at by the Ghurkhas who were sleeping inside, and finally went back to one of the bedrooms at the Artists where we shagged until dawn. Actually, it was a bit off-putting because my abiding memory of the night was that she had hairy legs!Another night I was dancing with a divine looking young girl of about 15 or 16 who was very attractively dressed. In my small talk I told her how lovely she looked and only needed thigh high boots to be a goddess. She laughed. I was not trying to get off with her at all but did have a pleasant evening in her company. And she was with her mother anyway, possibly even more attractive than her daughter and a divorcee (Surrey you see) in her mid to late thirties. The following night they turned up again – and this time the daughter wore full length boots that she teased me with as she twirled and stamped on the dance floor to Country and Western music. I danced several times with both her and her mother and towards the end of the evening her mother asked me if I would like to go back to their house for coffee. Not the old mother/daughter fantasy I hear you ask disbelievingly. Alas, no, but I did sleep with the mother, a nice, warm friendly fuck, and she even drove me back to camp at six in the morning, fully satiated but totally knackered. An extremely pleasant evening with a woman who just wanted no-strings-attached sex with a relative stranger after years of being divorced and alone.Bisley overall was a success. We won the Inter-Command competitions, had some success against the Army and RAF and some individuals amongst us did well in the civilian competitions in the second non-military week. And I got a couple of fucks and an excellent voyeur session under my belt. Most satisfactory.I doubted that I would ever have another six weeks off to get to Bisley again so had made the most of it. That same year though I had another week off to coach the Wrens in their inter-services match, something I did about half a dozen times altogether in my naval career. Straightaway I will put my hands up. I never had sex with any of the Wrens, WAAFs or WAACs. The Wrens were a mixed bag of ratings and officers, some plain, many pretty and some beautiful, but they were all utterly professional and dedicated to their sport and I admired them for that. The WAACs, I’m pretty sure, were all butch and lesbians (except one, I think, but I only saw her the once). On average I would have to say that the WAAFs were the best looking but somewhat aloof and saving themselves for fast jet pilots. Despite the lack of opportunity (and I never really even tried) I always enjoyed my time with them. I could always fantasise of course, I’m good at that. There was one occasion we stayed overnight at HMS Dauntless. This was the WRNS training establishment and was manned (womanned?) entirely by women. Well not quite, there was a single man on the camp, a Navy stoker responsible for maintaining the boilers and garden machinery. I did see him once, stoop shouldered, grey-haired, wrinkled skin, shuffling across the parade ground And to think he was just 26 years old.Chapter 8The thing about being in the Navy is that life is never boring; every couple of years you enter a new phase and this phase was about to finish and another begin. Margaret’s nights with Colin eventually slowed down and I believe there were the occasional mini-affairs, gropes, tit feels, finger fucks and the like with other customers of the Cormorant, but I think this was more an automatic response to the general lack of extra-marital sex and boredom than anything else.Then our neighbour told her about a job that was available in the Halifax Building Society in Cosham. This suited Margaret down to the ground; it had status, she could wear nice clothes and it was part time that fitted in with the k**s’ school hours. So she moved from randy barmaid to respectable Halifax cashier.In the meantime, I got the job as senior chief on a new ship, so new in fact that it was still being built. So off I went to Newcastle, some 350 miles away from home.HMS Glasgow was being built at the Swan Hunters yard in Wallsend, Tyne & Wear. The reduced ship’s company, mainly specialists like myself, lived in lodgings all around the area. I ended up in Whitley Bay, just down the road from the police station with a lovely landlady called Elsie. She was quite safe from us sailors though, being seventy! There were half a dozen of us in the house and I shared a large room with an old mate called Rick.My first day in the Naval Offices in the Yard was a real eye-opener. The office was on the second floor overlooking the main road and just opposite was a pub. At about five to twelve I was looking at the window and noticed something strange; the bar staff were pulling pints and putting them on every available space, tables, windows, ledges. But there was no-one else in the pub. There must have been a hundred unaccompanied pints in the bar. Then a hooter blew, the shipyard gates were flung open and a mass of overalls ran across the road, poured into the pub and grabbed the nearest pint. When they had finished their drink, and some went down very quickly indeed, the drinker went to the bar and paid for two. The ingenuity of the British Working Man enabled maximum consumption within a minimum period. Of course, the standard of work in the afternoons left much to be desired and probably had to be re-done. And the ship was two years behind programme. Good old British heavy manufacturing, no wonder we have so little now. Maggie’s got a lot to answer for closing down all out heavily subsidised industries some say. A pity the unions didn’t put as much energy into making work profitable rather than striking for political purposes.Newcastle was a revelation, a total different world from what I was used to. I would say that socially they were fifty years behind the South. There were many men-only clubs throughout the area. We visited a typical club one afternoon. Outside was a woman holding a baby and she pleaded with us to ask her husband to come out and speak to her. She described him, and we entered, found him at the bar and passed on her message. He went mad, slammed down his pint, stormed out and we heard his shouting and a cry from her. He came back in, still steaming, took up his pint and said, “That’ll teach her to ask me for money”. We didn’t stay; we would have liked to have caught her up and given her some money, but we never did find her.Another strange custom was that one night a week, Thursday, the women were allowed a night out on their own. They got really dressed up and poured into the bars and night clubs for their nights of freedom. A short walk from our lodgings was the Burgundy Cobbler night club and after the pubs shut we would go there for a final drink or two. It was always packed with women, dancing around their handbags, illuminated by the flashing disco lights. Picking up was easy-peasy, especially when they heard our “posh” southern accents and found out we were sailors. Rick effortlessly chatted up one girl and I ended up with her mate; not the first time this has happened or would happen. He wandered off with her and Mary (I think) asked if I wanted to go for a drive. Well, a gentleman could hardly refuse. We drove north along the coast towards what was apparently a local spot for alfresco sex but at one stage Mary ask me to duck down below the windscreen for a minute. Mystified I ducked until she told me I could get up again.“What was all that about”, I asked. “My husband and his mates often parks up just back there to pick up motorists”, she explained. He was a copper!We drove down a bumpy track and pulled up at the far end of a car park by Saint Mary’s Lighthouse. She grabbed me and we kissed before she broke off, got out and climbed into the back seat. Very forward these Geordie lasses. I, of course, got in with her but she was already pulling down her pants, dropping them on the floor and pulling me on top of her, fumbling with my trousers. It was only a matter of seconds before my pants were around my ankles, she was lying along the seat, legs up in the air, and I was thrusting into a wet, warm and very hairy cunt! I remember the light from the lighthouse sweeping around and illuminating us every few seconds, incongruously think it must be frustrating for voyeurs in the car park.I have to say she was easily satisfied; my grunt was matched with a little scream in her throat. Then she reached down, picked up her pants, wiped herself down (and, fortunately, my prick), put her pants into her bag and climber back into the front seat. She dropped me off back in Whitley Bay and with a kiss and a “thanks petal” drove off.Rick didn’t get back until later and it appeared that he had got on very well with his lady and would be seeing her again. The following morning, we got up early and packed our bags to go back home for the weekend. It was then that I noticed my wallet was missing. It must have dropped out of my trousers when they were around my ankles in the back of her car. Panic.Fortunately, Rick had his girlfriend’s telephone number and called her from the Naval Office to explain the situation. She said she would call Mary and get back to him. Half an hour later she called back. Mary didn’t have the car; her husband had taken it to work! You can imagine the thoughts that went through my head. What if an enormous Geordie copper found a wallet containing the ID card of a sailor in the back of the car his wife had used the previous night? He may not have been CID material I believe, but he could probably add two and two. Rick’s girlfriend was going to take Mary to the police station and look in the back of the car and would get back to us. It was a long wait but eventually she rang to say she had got it. I could breathe again. Things were not going too well at home; despite me driving 350 miles every Friday, and back again Sunday night, Margaret was not at all grateful and frankly I wondered why I bothered. She may have been having withdrawal symptoms from extramarital sex and couldn’t handle it. With no excuse for nights out as our k**s were now of an age to notice things and talk, she had little chance for a bit of fun, and didn’t seem to want to have fun with me.So things trundled on for months with me dreading the 700 mile weekly drive with the wear and tear on me and my car, and Margaret not appearing to bother if I came home or not. Indeed, she was always in a foul mood and we argue almost from the moment I pulled up. So when an opportunity arose I was glad to take it.Her name was Carol and we met in the Tuxedo Junction in Newcastle City down by the river. This was rather a posh night club with telephones on each table and a table number above. You could view the talent and if you saw someone you fancied you dialled the table number and introduced yourself. The recipient of the call was invited to view the caller and if they fancied who they saw then the next step was a dance.My phone rang. A lilting Geordie accent said, “hello, what’s your name?” I told her. “You’re not from Newcastle are you,” she brilliantly guessed. I laughed, and then we started chatting. In the meantime, I was looking around to see who was calling. Then I spotted her. Blonde, slim, still in her twenties, rather attractive and smiling in my direction. She waved and I waved back. “Fancy a dance?” she asked over the phone. Now I am not the world’s best dancer and would rather avoid it, but if I did I would have missed the best opportunity since I arrived. I walked over to her table and reached out my hand which she took with a look of surprise. Apparently, most Geordie lads would have been more abrupt. I walked her out to the crowded floor and we started. Fortunately, due to the press of the crowd I did not have to demonstrate my lack of skill. Indeed, we ended up close to together most of the time shouting in each other’s ear; her name, I caught over the noise, was Carol. We didn’t go back to our respective tables, she waved to her friend and I waved to Rick and his girl and we went to find somewhere we could sit and hear each other. And talked.She was married to a Merchant Marine officer and lived in Blyth which was some way from Newcastle, a few miles north of Whitley Bay. She was having her regular Thursday night out with friends had seen me, and through the anonymity of the phone system was curious to see what I sounded like. When she heard my southern accent, she was intrigued and wanted the dance to learn more. We talked for quite some time; I drank little and she only had soft drinks as she was driving. The time really went quick and we certainly seemed to hit it off. She asked me if I wanted a lift back to Whitley Bay and I quickly accepted. She drove a red Datsun 280ZX, similar in looks to the Ferrari Daytona but a 2+2 and not quite as fast, though still one of the quickest on the roads in those days. It put my Rover 3500 SD to shame as she spun the wheels out of the car park and we headed to the coast. I’m pleased to say that she pulled over before we reached my lodgings and it took me no time at all to place my arms around her and kiss her deeply. I don’t know what held me back that night, but I did not go into grope mode and treated her respectfully and gently. As it turned out this was the best thing I could have done. We were obviously simpatico as she was melting in my arms and responding to each little peck on her cheeks, ears, neck and lips. We spent most of the time just cuddling and talking until, with a sigh, she said she had to go as her husband waited up for her. I asked if I could see her again and she jumped at the offer. We agreed to meet at the Rex Hotel in the Bay the following Thursday at eight o’clock. I told her she would easily recognise me; I would be the one wearing an enormous smile! That made her laugh and she was smiling still as I waved her goodbye.With another 700 miles under my belt and another miserable weekend behind me I was delighted when she walked into the pub bang on time and looking a picture. Carol wore an almost permanent smile and was conservatively dressed but in quality clothing. Her smile broadened when she spotted me, and I held out my hands which she took and I kissed her gently on her cheek to her surprise. But I was playing my Gentleman card in the long game. We spent much of the night in the pub in a quiet corner talking away. I discovered she had been married just a couple of years, they had no c***dren and no plans as yet for any. He was away a lot but was very possessive and didn’t like her streak of independence. We then went up to the Burgundy Cobbler where I danced cheek to cheek at every opportunity. Again, she had to go back home to her husband so I walked her to the car, held open the door for her and kissed her gently goodnight. I also arranged another meet the following week. The following week went much the same except for one important detail; her husband was back at sea for a month. He worked on supply vessels out of Aberdeen servicing the oil rigs. Would I like to come back for a coffee? Actually, I dislike coffee but no-one has ever invited me home for a cup of tea! But then we all know that a cup of coffee is a euphemism anyway.She drove me the 6 miles to Blyth and to a very pleasant detached house in a small estate. It was very comfortable inside too. I turned down the coffee, (but not the euphemism) so she gave me a small glass of malt whisky to sip while she did herself one. She curled up alongside me and kissed and cuddled for some time before she whispered, “I can’t go all the way”. Shortly after I was lying with her in the spare bedroom, she was naked except for a small pair of tight white pants performing the duties of guardian of her chastity. But we still had a highly charged session of heavy petting, rubbing my cock all over her body, my hands caressing her mound through her pants, kissing nipples, breasts and ears. She was incredibly aroused, her body writhing under my ministrations, her breasts heaving and moans coming from deep in her throat. Twice her back arched and she came but on I went on and on until I could hold on no longer. “I’m so sorry”, I said, “I really need to come”. “Oh please, yes, yes”, she moaned, “come over me”.She lay back flat on the bed and I climbed to sit across her hips. She grabbed my cock rubbing it frantically until I could hang on no longer. I hadn’t had sex for weeks, I had had a couple of wonderful hours playing with a responsive, beautiful woman so what happened next was hardly surprising. My first couple of spurts soared over her head and splattered into the wall behind her, the next spurt with lesser force dropped into her hair, then on her face and finally dribbled onto her very firm breasts. She had watched me intently as I came, and I think she orgasmed at the sight of my extreme arousal.Though our night was almost chaste, more teenager than mature adults, I remember that night with great affection to this day. I didn’t need a blow job or fuck to experience extreme pleasure; I just needed a beautiful, willing woman who respected me and, possibly, even loved me just a bit.We had many nights like that and it wasn’t until some months later that she indicated that she was ready to fully engage, signalled by wriggling out of her pants. I was very gentle, because I knew that emotionally she was being unfaithful for the first time and I wanted her to enjoy it without hang-ups. So we didn’t fuck, we made love. And we did so often after that. She never gave me a blow job though, but I often went down on her now that her pants were off. I never pursued the bj; I was getting quite enough thank you.Good things come to an end though, and the day came that we sailed. She came to the end of the breakwater at Tynemouth as we left Newcastle for the last time and we waved until she was out of sight.Two things happened sometime after we left Newcastle. We were visiting Glasgow, our “chummy” city and some of the lads did a sponsored bike ride back from Portsmouth. I volunteered to drive the support vehicle back to Portsmouth with some other equipment on board urgently needed elsewhere. I took a diversion from the normal route which I could get away with as I was the senior person in the vehicle and headed to join the A1 near Newcastle then head south. Carol had been in regular touch with me, indeed she rang the ship the day we arrived in Portsmouth. This time I rang her, and she jumped at the chance to meet up at a service station near Newcastle. When we got there eventually I recognised her car instantly in the far corner of the car park. I jumped out of the Navy Transit and ran over to the car from which she emerged waving and smiling. We embraced and kissed for ages. I only had a very short time while the others had a toilet break and snatched a quick lunch, to get back on schedule. She took me around to the passenger side so that the car hid much of our bodies then completely amazed me; she dropped to her knees and I got my very first blow job off her. This was my present for coming to see her. When she judged that I was ready she sat back in the passenger seat with her legs out of the car, lifted her hips and slipped off her pants. Then she lay back and invited me forward. This time we did not make love, it was brutal and quick and she loved it all the more for that. It was half an hour, no more than that, from beginning to end when I had to leave her with tears in our eyes and my cum dripping between her legs as she waved goodbye.The next time I saw her was a year later in Portsmouth. She rang me up and we met in the Still and West pub in Old Portsmouth. She was now working there as a barmaid and I was thinking that this could be complicated because at times I think I was willing to leave Margaret and live with Carol, but Blyth was just too far for a sea-going Royal Navy sailor. Now her she was in my home port. But I needn’t have worried. Sometime after our car park meeting she met up with a naval officer also standing by another ship at Wallsend and in very quick time he asked her to marry him. Apparently Carol had divorced her husband shortly after we had left Newcastle but she hadn’t mentioned it as she did not want to put any pressure on me. I did not expect anything for old time’s sake and we parted the best of friends.The Glasgow was another “good” ship. Excellent ship’s company plus interesting deployments led to a memorable commission, though not for the sex. Despite trips to places like the Caribbean and the States where I met some lovely friendly people sex never came into it at all. As I have said previously I do not go out of my way to seek sexual adventures and if they just don’t occur that’s fine by me. I’ve played golf with millionaires’ wives, had beach barbecues with Coastguards and their families, shot in matches with local clubs and against police forces, attended receptions and parties with locals and ex-pats and generally had a good time.We also worked hard. I was now the President of the Chief’s Mess and head of the Weapons Engineering Department looking after the ship’s computers, missiles, guns, radars, sonars etc. I also ran the ship’s TV system, was on the Welfare Committee, arranged two holidays in America for the wives of the officers and ratings, and ran a successful ship’s shooting team and a few more things that I can’t recall just yet. So it’s hardly surprising I didn’t have time for a bit of fun on the side.We were involved in exercises, including a big one with the US Fourth Fleet. We were invited along with 26 of their ships for an exercise which included being attacked by two pilotless target aircraft flying at 60,000 feet. We were placed at the end of the line and were told that if by any chance the PTAs got through we were welcome to try. In the Operations room we listened while ship after ship failed to detect or lock on the targets or get their missiles off. Much to our surprise we were given the go ahead by the American admiral. Our systems detected both, locked on and fired both Sea Dart missiles. Both million-dollar PTAs were destroyed. Over the open communications net the Yank admiral, through gritted teeth, congratulated us and then ordered all American ship’s captains to his office. Our captain bought us a drink.We also were involved in Hurricane Allan which struck St Lucia. The ship was ordered to Castries which was the capital and was relatively unaffected, but politics was involved. Much to the disgust of the ambitious young officers I was detailed off with 24 men to go to the International Airport in the South, reconnoitre, set up a base, establish priorities, liaise with incoming international aid, organise distribution and get the airport up and running. Big ask for a mere senior Chief but it all went very well indeed but there were some hairy moments such as doing an air recce by the ship’s helicopter which had a dodgy engine, swooping over volcanic peaks and down over jungle clearings. I also had to chair a meeting with Venezuelan and American senior military figures and fight off the St Lucian government ministers who tried to confis**te the loads of relief aid I was in charge of, including many Continental frame tents. A very satisfying time which got me my quick promotion to Warrant Officer.On another occasion we were sent to the far north in the Arctic Circle to spy on the Russian fleet exercising off Murmansk. We were fitted with state of the art surveillance equipment and two dozen specialist Russian speaking technicians who eavesdropped on all plain language conversations. Our helicopter pilot made a name for himself early one morning by flying out of the mist INTO the open loading dock of an amphibious carrier and got many pictures before leaving them open-mouthed. That must have upset them because the following day we tracked a destroyer out of Murmansk which headed straight for us. The helicopter reported that there was no-one on the decks and all doors and hatches were fully clipped. This gave us sufficient warning, but we were stilled rammed near the bow. Fortunately, the damage was not too bad and we stayed our full term before being relieved by a submarine.But the greatest adventure for the Glasgow came two weeks after I left her. The Argentinians invaded the Falklands and a couple of months later she was bombed though fortunately the ordnance didn’t explode.Chapter 9While I was on the Glasgow I do believe that Margaret had been “faithful”, partly because on occasions when I did ask her in bed she denied any current activity, so I had to make do with tales of old affairs, but mainly because she was working days now in the Halifax branch with our rather puritan neighbour, a policeman’s wife, and our k**s were of an age (both now teenagers) where they were very observant.My new job was at a Naval Research Establishment on the top of Portsdown Hill, just above our house. This involved the development and commissioning of the next generation of anti-air and anti-missile missiles, the Mark III Sea Wolf system. This was a fantastic job, cutting edge technology, working in a civilian environment, great sports facilities, flexible working and I even got my own Hewlett Packard computer to take home in 1982 when most of the country were making do with the Sinclair ZX81! The guys I worked with were a mixed bunch; my immediate superior was a Naval Officer, Russell, who was a lovely guy and with whom I had some great times during our various jaunts around the country in the job. The other two in the office were senior civil servants; one, Bob, was great – conscientious, knowledgeable and hardworking, just what you would like a civil servant to be. The other, Ray, was the exact opposite. He had a side line running an engraving company and he would spend his evenings knocking up signs and name plates, but he spent the days in the office doing the administration for his private business. And he got away with it.About half way through my period I this job it was decided that I would join HMS Brave, then being built in Glasgow, as the Senior Warrant Officer in charge of the weapons systems to facilitate the trials and commissioning of the new system. Unfortunately, it would also mean a great deal of time away from home, up to four years in total. In compensation I was promised no more sea time until I would retire at fifty-five on a very good pension. But that would always be subject to the exigencies of the service and no more sea time did not necessarily mean being near my home. There are many distant posts which were in some ways worse than being at sea. Margaret gave me a great deal of grief about it and eventually I bowed to pressure and gave my eighteen months’ notice that was required of me as a Warrant Officer. It would still mean me standing by the ship during its final months under construction in Glasgow but not the extensive sea trials that would follow. This decision was something I regretted at the time and still do so today. It also meant that I needed to do some advanced systems courses to facilitate the setting up of the systems in the shipyard. The two principal courses I attended were at Ferranti in Bracknell for two weeks doing intensive training in programming their new FM1600E computers which would control the weapon systems. Unfortunately, the knowledge I acquired was of no use to me outside the Navy as they used a unique code called Fixpac based on 12 bit words whereas the rest of the world used code such as C++ in 8 or 16 bit words. However, it was interesting, we were based at the RAF college Senior Ranks mess and we had some good nights, but no leg-overs!The other course of note was at the Marconi College in Chelmsford and I would be there for six weeks with a nice guy, Andy, who would be one of my surveillance system chiefs on the Brave. Now this was a bit more like it. It had been some time since I had gone out to play and Andy and I spent most weekday nights wandering round the pubs and dance halls which were always full of students and k**s. One night we were at a dance when Andy saw his dream girl; big busted, blousy and blonde. She was dancing with another woman who was much more to my taste, slim, pretty and very fit looking. Now as I’ve said before, I don’t go chasing women, but Andy was determined to meet the blonde and I always help a mate. We split them up and I shuffled for a time until, thankfully the music stopped. Andy by now was well into his chat up lines so we came off the floor and joined them at their table. They were quite impressed by us being sailors and soon Andy was soon regaling them with tales of life in the Navy and I could hardly get a word in. Actually, my girl, Lynne, was far quieter than her friend who was lapping up every word. In fact, she seemed embarrassed at the way the conversation was going and, like me, hardly joined in. It was only when they decided they wanted another dance that I had the opportunity to talk properly to her. She was the ex-wife of a solicitor, lived in Westcliffe-on-Sea, was the Roads Safety Officer of Essex, played badminton and was a bit wary around men having gone through a messy divorce. She had no c***dren and lived alone in their old home. To say that we got on well would be an understatement. I adore intelligent women and she was certainly that. Once she came out of her shell I couldn’t stop her talking but I didn’t mind in the least. When Andy and her friend came back we ignored them completely and were in a world of our own. We were hardly aware when they left. As a footnote he got nothing from her that night or any other.A couple of hours later Lynne and I just about knew everything about each other; it was as if we had known each other for years. Eventually she said she would drive me back to our lodgings. I placed my arm around her shoulder as she drove and we gave each other those little laughs and squeezes. When she pulled up it was easy to draw her towards me and kiss her, a move that was obviously to her liking. I went further than I usually do and put my hand up her top and was rewarded with the warm feel of a bare, firm, responsive breast. Noticing my surprise and delight she whispered that she never wore a bra. Her breasts were not big, but were extremely firm, attributed she told me, to her fitness training. We kissed and talked for some time, but I went no further. I mentioned that it was a shame I couldn’t take her into the lodgings, but I shared a room with Andy. She paused for just a second, and then invited me back to her place. Needless to say, I accepted. It was a twenty-mile drive in the early hours, but we talked and I caressed her shoulders and thighs the whole way.Her house was delightful; there was a log fire slumbering in the fireplace which she stoked and restocked then got us drinks while it flared up. By the light of the flames and with the crackling of burning wood in the background we undressed and lay on a sheepskin rug in front of the fire. Our first time was slow and gentle and she opened herself up fully to receive my patient cock into her wet and warm passage. It was divine and tender. We both came, gripping hard onto each other as waves of passion swept over us, one of the nicest experiences I had had. As we lay there kissing and embracing, exploring our bodies gently, I heard the odd crack and felt the occasional burning spark of wood land on us but we were oblivious to a little pain that night.I did find out that she was fastidious about cleanliness almost to the point of obsession. She insisted that we share a bath before we went to bed and we sat with her in front of me, my legs around her hips, and me soaping her back and breasts, and gently between her thighs.We dried each other on enormous fluffy warm white towels and clambered into a four-poster bed with d****s. We held each other tight and as it was now past two o’clock, we were soon asleep. We awoke about six o’clock and made love again, then another, quicker, bath which she preferred to showers. She then drove me to the railway station, and together with all the other commuters milling around she kissed me and waved me off just as though we were a happily married couple. I was late back at the college but all I got were knowing grins and thumbs up. Andy was somewhat miffed having got his hands slapped when they strayed too far.For the rest of the time at Chelmsford it was indeed as though we were married. I spent Monday to Thursday nights with her, but now got an earlier train back so was never late again. We ate out at times but mainly she cooked for us, and she was a brilliant cook. We bathed and slept in her bed with clean linen sheets every night. I suspected that she would not be into oral sex and was right, so I never pushed it at all. The nearest I got to anything like that was one night, when she lay naked on the sheepskin rug in front of the spitting fire in post-coital repose, I went into the kitchen and got a can of whipped cream which I sprayed on her breasts and stomach and spent a heavenly few minutes licking it off. After first jumping at the coldness of the cream she was aroused by this and my hand between her thighs and fingers tickling and rubbing her clit. But then she had to have a bath of course. I always shared her baths and at times we almost fell asleep after gently playing with each other in the warmth of the water and bubbles.Alas, my time at the college came to an end and I had to say goodbye to her. It was a very emotional morning at the station with the other commuters pecking their wives’ cheeks, putting newspapers under their arms and hefting briefcases. We in the meantime were in full cuddle mode, my arms around her waist, her arms around my neck and tears in our eyes as we said goodbye for the last time.As a footnote, about six or seven years later I had an excuse to go to Southend and I looked her up. We spent the afternoon in bed together, but only after a bath!My last twelve months in the Navy were spent mainly in Glasgow. Andy and I, plus one or two others, shared digs in a tenement block near the shipyard at first but that was real rough. I would jog to work in the mornings but was never too sure I would make it un-mugged! Then, during the winter a dozen or so of us lived at the Loch Lomond Castle Hotel in the grounds. They had pine cabins and if they turned off the heating the wood would shrink and crack, so they let them out at nominal rents just to keep them warm. We had full access to all the hotel facilities, including pool and gym, almost all to ourselves. Andy had brought his car up, a TR7, so he and I had transport and played badminton and golf all around Glasgow.I did not get up to anything at all in Scotland. I’m afraid the women just did not turn me on. Whether it was the ubiquitous beer bellies, the unintelligible language, or the deep-fried pizzas I don’t know. I just was not comfortable. I managed to get home every weekend on some pretext or other, flying by the BA 757 shuttle from Heathrow. It’s a shame they didn’t do airmiles then, I’d still be living on them.The day finally came for the ship to leave the hands of the Shipyard and join the Royal Navy, and the new Warrant Officer who was my relief joined. After a two-week long turnover he was ready to take the ship to sea and get my weapons systems up and running. I did feel rather sorry to see her go.I flew down South, spent a couple of weeks in London working at Whitehall and finally handed in my ID card and gas-mask.So, after 24 years in the Navy I was about to take the biggest step of all – into Civvy Street.Chapter 10In preparation for life after the Navy while working at the Sea Wolf project I had attended College for two years, day release, and did what was then called a BEC, now a BTEC, in Business Studies. This covered economics, financial and management accounting, law, statistics and administration. It was a very good course for me, especially as most of the class were female and young, employed in banks and building societies and working towards the Institute of Bankers examinations as high flyers. I didn’t really try anything with them, they were mostly eighteen to twenty years old and I was now forty. Besides, there was another male in the class; he was a Portsmouth City footballer working for qualifications under some FA scheme or other. I have to admit he was good looking and, of course, very fit. He often too the opportunity to wear shorts to show off his toned calf muscles. I’m not sure he got anywhere with any of them either, they were very professional and he wasn’t too clever. Most of the course was too much for him and he soon dropped out.I did get to play squash with one of the mature (she was twenty-eight!) students, Heather. That caused me a few problems; she wore a short tennis skirt and white pants that were absolutely see-through when wet which they rapidly became due to her sweating as I pushed her. When I dropped a ball tight in the corner I would get a magnificent view as she bent to retrieve it. I actually did do myself harm one day. Have you ever tried to play squash with an erection? I ended up in the Naval hospital for a cystoscopy due to blood in my semen. Nothing serious was found fortunately and I got a pain-free vasectomy while under the general anaesthetic.I passed the course with distinction and with my technical qualifications I felt quite set up for Civvy Street.Due to my experience I was offered a job with Marconi Radar Systems, based in Portsmouth and working on the Sea Wolf system so this was absolutely made for me. I passed the interview and agreed terms but then the Navy withdrew the contract. Marconi still wanted me, but I would have to work in and from Chelmsford. That would kaçak bahis have been a problem; firstly, I didn’t particularly like Chelmsford, or Essex either for that matter, then the k**s were at a critical stage school-wise and they would miss their friends; and finally I think I may have been tempted by the proximity of Lynne, perhaps terminally so with regards to my marriage. So having talked it over with Margaret we decided we would look at self-employment.We visited a commercial estate agent in Fareham and looked at what was on offer by way of businesses for sale. There wasn’t a lot, but the first one in the pack was a shop selling beach goods and toys on the sea front at Lee on Solent. We asked for details including the reason for the sale. It appears that the woman now running it had been recently widowed and reluctantly took it over pending sale. That was a pretty good reason for selling I thought. The accounts we were shown weren’t brilliant, but the shop appeared to be profitable (just) and I believed that not all the money would have gone through the books anyway. Before deciding we visited the shop incognito; as soon as I entered I felt at home – it was dark and dank and painted a mix of Navy Blue and shipside grey. I’d just spent 24 years living like that!I then parked in the car park opposite and on a graph charted the number of visitors per hour over a couple of days, estimated average spend by going in a few times, then I found the average mark-up on the stock from the VAT data. From all that I extrapolated monthly, quarterly and annually profit-making adjustments for seasons etc. I reckoned that I could do it with a bit of investment in new shop fittings and decorations. I won’t bore you with details, but I bought the business and in the next ten years it evolved into a successful fishing tackle shop. But I did have some rather interesting experiences along the way.It took six weeks for all the legalities to go through and in that time I stayed at home rather bored. Home was now a rather nice four bedroom detached Georgian House on a very pleasant estate in Locksheath which we could afford at the time of purchase on my Warrant Officer salary and Margaret’s money plus cheap mortgage rates as she worked for the Halifax still. As a part of the development the builders provided a Community Centre which was run by the estate. This was very middle-class territory with naval officers, senior policemen, business owners, footballers (before the days of obscene wages), engineers and accountants. Many were active in the Community Centre and I soon got involved as well. We got to know lots of people on the estate. Among these were a family opposite. He was a successful designer and draughtsman and his wife Mary worked with him for much of the day, coming back early to prepare tea for when their k**s got in from school. She quite took a shine to me and took to coming over when she got in before starting her chores. She made it clear that she didn’t usually have anything to do with other men, but she really seemed to fancy me. The problem was that she was fat. As I have mentioned previously I don’t really have much time for fat people and I was not prepared to shag her even though it was obvious that this was her intent. We came to an unspoken agreement though, and every afternoon for that six weeks she would come over, suck my cock and I would come in her mouth. I had a friend whose favourite tee shirt had a cartoon prick on it and the words “Describe your worst blow job……Fantastic!” Well, not quite true I’m afraid. She was rather poor at it, too much teeth, not that warm and wet, and when I came she would go to the sink and spit it out. But being a gentleman, I would thank her and tell her how wonderful it had been. The week before I was to start in the shop I relented and told her that she had been so good to me there must be something I could do for her. She asked me if, the following afternoon, I could go over to their house. I did, of course. She led me to her bedroom and asked me to undress and lay on the bed; she then left the room as I was preparing. I lay there for a minute or two trying to recall erotic scenes so as to maintain a half-hearted erection when she came into the bedroom. Mary was into riding and had a horse which she rode regularly at week-ends. She wore her riding rig including boots, blouse and helmet – but no jodhpurs or knickers. And she had a riding crop. She climbed astride me and lowered her not inconsiderable bulk down on my cock, guiding it with her hand between the rolls of fat into her surprisingly rather tight, warm and wet cunt. She bounced up and down on me and reached back to apply a touch of the crop on my thighs as she did so. This must have been a long-standing fantasy of hers because her body shuddered and she moaned after just a few minutes. Her cunt certainly felt even wetter and warmer which, fortunately, was the catalyst for my orgasm and I could be relieved of the weight on my body. Thank god, that crop hurt. That was my last experience with Mary, but it must have ignited a spark because a couple of months later she was caught by her husband in bed with his brother and he threw her out and they divorced. I never asked him if she was wearing a helmet at the time!Also in that period I noticed that one of our other neighbours, the wife of a footballer and extremely pretty, had the habit of doing the housework in the nude. I used to sit with my spotting telescope for hours daily after I first caught her at it. The best day was when she was cleaning the windows and reaching up while knelt on the window sill!We had become frequent visitors to the Community Centre which was about 100 yards from our back-garden gate and we were soon accepted in the crowd of regulars. It was quite obvious that there was a great deal of wife-swapping and “private” parties going on, but Margaret did not want to join in. One of her problems is that in any group of people she had to be the centre of attention. If there were any other attractive women then we sat on our own, but if there was no opposition then she was the life and soul of the party. I would have loved to have got in on that scene as I believe the parties were no holds barred and I may have fulfilled my fantasy of indulging in a threesome with Margaret, or at least a very close encounter. Again, that was more important to me than me shagging. There were some very attractive women in the Club. There was a weekly badminton game in the hall and I played regularly with a lovely redhead, a dream in short white skirt and tight knickers, and a very good player indeed. Nothing ever came of that with me, nor did I try, but she did soon after run away with another club member, together with her two daughters. Her ex-husband is my golf partner these days and I think we both still miss her.Though Margaret was now almost forty she was still very attractive and it wasn’t too long before she drew the attention of a twenty-five year old regular called Kevin. He was recently married and a qualified electrician with his own company, mainly installing alarms. Club members used to take turns working behind the bar and one night it was Kevin there when we went in. I did notice the interchange of glances and it came as no surprise when I came back from a toilet visit to find her sitting on a bar stool laughing and joking with him. It also came as no surprise that sometime later when I told her we should be going she said that she had volunteered to help Kevin clean up the bar and collect glasses. From the look she gave me it was obvious that she wanted to resume her extra-marital activities after all these years. After a short pause I nodded and left her to it.I lay in bed and waited. It seemed like an eternity, but I then heard her high heels tapping along the road (we do not come in the back way as there are no lights). She undressed fully in the dark and found me with my erection pointed toward the ceiling. She climbed onto the bed and mounted my cock. She pumped up and down a little and I could feel the hot flow her lover had left behind run out of her and pool on me. She reached down and stuck her finger into it and then stuck her finger in her mouth. She told me how different men’s come can taste. She offered me a taste and smeared her wet finger on my lips. I was so close to coming I didn’t care what she did. She was being to understand me. Afterwards, we stretched out on the bed and talked about the experience. My wife again told me how much she enjoyed having sex with other men and asked me if I was still happy with the arrangement. I could tell from the way that she asked that it probably didn’t matter what I answered but I did enjoy her fucking other men, as long as she told me about them, so of course I agreed that I was still happy about it.After that Kevin would volunteer for as many nights working behind the bar that he thought he could get away with, leaving his new wife somewhat frustrated I would imagine, and night after night Margaret would “help him clean up”, come home and regale me with their latest position; over a table, on the carpet, against the bar, sitting on him in a chair. She seemed insatiable with him, but I always got my share vicariously. I was tempted to spy through the curtained windows of the bar if I could leave a great enough gap but unfortunately the club was in full view of houses and well-lit by street lights. But sometime later I would get my way.Soon it was early July and I was in the shop; at first it went very well indeed. I employed the husband of a friend of Margaret’s as my assistant and the weather was quite reasonable. On the first hot weekend of the summer it went absolutely manic and I was shovelling notes into the till and working for ten hours at a stretch without a break. After a couple of these I thought I had it made. During the week it was much quieter of course. Before the k**s broke up for the holidays one particular customer would come in having picked up her four-year-old son from school and brought him in daily to have a look around at the toys. Now I know that at times I am prone to exaggeration, but I would not be so now in saying that this young mother was the girl of my dreams; the perfect figure, exquisitely dressed and coiffured, and beautifully spoken. At first, I did nothing but admire her from afar, partly because of my inherent shyness but also because I did not think I would have a chance anyway. How wrong I was. I was always friendly and polite when she came in of course, but then that is my nature with all my customers, but perhaps she detected that edge, that tremor, in my voice when I spoke to her. There was no defining moment that I can remember where we actually hit on each other, it just seemed to creep up. We were certainly on first name terms and joking with each other when, on day, she asked if I could get a certain toy for her son. I replied that perhaps she would like to come with me to the wholesaler, in Poole, quite some distance away, and maybe we could pick one up there. I couldn’t believe my luck when she agreed enthusiastically. During that drive I got my first kiss from her. I was still playing softly, softly but she had no such inhibitions. I discovered to my surprise and delight that inside this beautiful, sophisticated exterior there dwelt a woman with a man’s morals, needs and randiness. Moreover, and I say this without exaggeration or hyperbole, she loved, absolutely loved, giving oral and always, but always, swallowed and savoured each and every drop. She explained sometime later that she relished the power it gave her over men; she would look up at their faces as she drained the juices from them knowing that they would do anything for her at that moment and would crawl over broken glass for the promise of another world class blow job in the future.I had a variety of scenarios with her lovely lips clamped around my cock sucking my warm juices down her throat, including on one occasion where the day previously she had asked me what would turn me on, I had said, half-jokingly, for her to come to work naked to save me the time undressing her. The very next day she appeared at the door of the shop wearing her trench coat which she slowly unbelted, then unbuttoned from the top and finally opened up wide to stand in front of me naked but for stockings. Some minutes later she was crouched under the counter and sucking my cock as I was serving a customer. Another occasion was on a Sunday; that morning I had sold a fishing outfit to a guy called Dave and told him to go to Haslar Creek on the rising tide before twelve for the best chance of catching flounder. I locked up at three in the afternoon and Andrea and I were out back with her on her knees with my prick deep in her mouth, when the phone rang. I looked down at my lover and without removing a throbbing inch from her mouth she nodded. I picked up the phone to hear an excited Dave telling me all about the fish he had caught. I remember that this was just about when I came deep in Andrea’s throat and saying words to effect of “Yes, oh yes. That’s great”. He came into the shop during the week thanking me for the enthusiasm and encouragement I gave. He remained a regular for many years.On another occasion, Andrea fancied some alfresco sex and, leaving Rob to look after the shop, we went to a little car park in some woods. During some heavy-duty petting in the car we were observed disapprovingly by some old dears and Andrea suggested we go deeper amongst the trees for more room to move. As we sought a comfortable place I noticed that a young guy was following some distance behind and mentioned it to Andrea. She did not care in the least that he was watching from a distance as I lay out the blanket and she went down on me. This time I finished by fucking her, which was quite rare in our relationship, but she did ask nicely. I’m sure that the thought of being watched was the reason for the departure from our normal bit of fun. Remember, this was 1987, before dogging became almost de rigeur, particularly among Premier League footballers.On another occasion we agreed that a session in a more romantic setting would be nice. One afternoon I took her home with me. We went up into our bedroom and in a move burnt into my memory to this day she stood away from me, did something to her dress which just slipped off her body and she stood there, legs apart, hands on hips in a white basque, panties and self-supporting white stockings. What a poser, what a wonderful, beautiful poser. I had just managed to calm down and clasp my arms around her when I heard a noise I recognised. It was Margaret’s Fiat X1.9 sports car pulling up in front of our house. Panic! I scooped up her clothes and put her in the spare bedroom, then went down to catch Margaret as she entered. She said that she had been sent home from work as she was very poorly with a raging migraine. Of course, I sympathised and suggested she went and got into bed in a darkened room. I took her a cup of tea up and told her I was off to a trade show, having come home to change. I smuggled Andrea down the stairs and I then noticed her handbag over the bannister. How Margaret missed it I do not know. Rather than being worried about the near miss, I remember Andrea and I laughing all the way to our little car park in the woods to finish our afternoon off properly. I also began to think that I could live without Margaret as my wife. Her affair was still very much on-going, and I suspected that he was coming around our house on Wednesday afternoons which Margaret had off from work. But she was beginning to keep details from me on the grounds that it wasn’t fair on Kevin, her telling me all his personal little habits and techniques. We had begun to argue about this, I was by now not getting much in the way of sex with her and what I did get was perfunctory. I was getting very unhappy about my marriage.I was determined to check out if I was right about Wednesdays, and if I was I was determined to do something about it. One Wednesday morning I took some time off work and went home. In our bedroom I drilled a hole through the ceiling where I would have a good view of any activity that may occur. Just before she was due home I climbed up into the loft and waited. I was quite certain that something was going to happen when Margaret came home from work and went straight up to the bedroom, got undressed, had a shower and put on a dressing gown over her naked body and went downstairs. It was stifling hot and uncomfortable up there and I strained to hear sounds from downstairs. After what seemed like ages I heard the dog bark. By getting my eye as close to the hole as possible I could just about see the stairs. My heart was in my mouth as minutes later I saw her lover walk up those stairs, followed by my wife, and into the bedroom. As they faced each other my wife slipped off her dressing gown and reached up to put her arms around him and kiss him full on the mouth. She is only 5′ 1″ and he was over 6ft. They were directly under me, only inches away. I was sure he would look up and see my eye through the small gap I had made but fortunately his mind was elsewhere. She finally let him go and dropped to her knees. Seconds later I had the incredibly erotic sight directly below me of my wife feeding his hard, white cock into her mouth with her small hand wrapped around it. He fucked her mouth for a few minutes before lifting her to her feet and pushing her back onto the bed, OUR bed, and sucked at her nipples whilst gently fondling between her thighs, her hands holding him tight to her heaving body. She opened her legs wide and I could see her wetness glisten as his spare hand slipped up to her cunt and played with the redness that opened to him. Then, shit, they got into the bed and pulled up the bedclothes. They fucked three times – but each time out of sight under the duvet. And she went under the duvet on each occasion to clean him with her mouth. After over an hour of this he dressed and left. My wife left to pick up the k**s from school shortly after and I managed to get down and escape. I managed to watch on a further two occasions, but only once were they partially uncovered. Then at last I saw this tall blonde god thrusting in and out of my little wife’s body. My God, it was beautiful. And the sucking! She managed to get his (a disappointingly average-sized) cock completely into her mouth. She always did a better job on him than she did on me – and she swallowed at least once that I saw. Andrea and I continued to play our games. She always wanted to expand on our experiences and once when asked for a fantasy I remarked that I had always wanted a blow job whilst driving my car in daylight. That happened about a week later on the way to a trade show in Bournemouth. On the way she pulled up her skirt flashing her stocking tops (she always wore stockings) to lorry drivers. Then, minutes before we came off the dual carriageway she leant over, unzipped me and took me in her mouth. I came in a few short great minutes. Licking me clean she sat up and fingered some stray come back in her mouth saying how lovely it tasted. As I have said she loved to suck and always, always swallowed. She preferred to suck than fuck. I suppose it was about then that I seriously started wondering what it would be like, after all she seem to get so much out of it. I think that, like her, I preferred to please people rather than getting pleasure myself, so this would be a part of that process. On the way back from that trip after much begging I finally got her to divulge one of her fantasies. Remembering our time in the woods she said that she wanted to make love in the open with people watching. With no hesitation I took the opportunity to pull off the A31 and drive into the New Forest at Stoney Cross. We found a semi-secluded spot, laid out a blanket and started to kiss and cuddle. Within a few minutes we had an audience. One was a gentleman in Barbour jacket and tweed flat cap, the other a young forestry worker. As soon as she was aware that her audience had arrived she set to work, flashing, sucking, fucking. It ended up doggy fashion followed by her licking me clean. It was fantastic playing to the gallery and this for me was later to start more of an interest in dogging.Andrea was now working for me at weekends. She was married to a traffic policeman and as she was now my employee I got to meet him, a pleasant enough guy. I had told Margaret that I was employing part-time staff as it was getting busy. She hardly ever came to the shop wanting nothing to do with it as long as it paid the mortgage. But then one Saturday she came in while Andrea was there. We weren’t up to anything and in fact had customers, but Margaret stared at Andrea and without a word turned and left. I have to say that there was an air, almost a smell, about Andrea which just oozed SEX.When I got home that evening in a matter-of-fact voice Margaret told me that she had rung her boss and given in her notice. She was now going to work in the shop and THAT woman had to go. Needless to say, we had a blazing row. Never mind the accusation that I was being unfaithful on spurious grounds (oh, okay, maybe I was) but it meant that we now lost her wages and our discounted mortgage. But she was adamant, so I decided the time had finally come and I left her.I spent some time sleeping in the shop which wasn’t very pleasant but on occasions made more bearable by Andrea visiting me and making it all seem worthwhile. I know that I really was prepared to leave Margaret once and for all and if Andrea had felt more positive about it my life now would be a lot different, almost certainly for the better. Margaret, unfortunately, made that option impossible by informing the Police Service that the wife of one of their officers was being unfaithful. He was promptly transferred to Andover in an attempt to save his marriage and regrettably Andrea opted to go with him and I never saw her again. But I still didn’t go home. I ended up as a lodger at a friend’s place.I had time now to review my marriage. Firstly, on the plus side she was still very attractive and was a good worker. Then on the minus side, though she was one of the prettiest tools in the tool box she was far from being one of the sharpest! One example of her intelligence was when she spent a long time getting our garden looking really good; then to finish she watered it all with a non-selective weed killer, killing everything. She was amazed because the flowers weren’t weeds!She also had little respect for me, for my achievements or my intelligence. I like to think that I had achieved a lot in my life, but she thought that it all took no effort and just came naturally. Then, if a passing stranger were to tell her something that became the received wisdom regardless of the arguments that I advanced demonstrating the absolute absurdity of her position. Two examples; she argued for ages that when a home was compulsorily purchased only the value of the land was paid, not the value of the house as well. She could not explain why the obvious unfairness of the situation with thousands being made bankrupt unable to pay their mortgages hadn’t been made more widely known by the media. Then someone had mentioned that Councils would not work with companies that did not have a Quality Standard called BS5750. Somehow, she twisted that into a requirement for all shops to have it and would not give way until someone else told her differently. She couldn’t possibly believe my logic, I was her husband!I blame her boyfriends, actual and potential. Too eager to get into her knickers, they would agree with everything she said, giving her a high opinion of her intellectual capacity. She has kept just the one school report from her youth and this showed that she had come 44th out of a class of 47. And her lack of ambition both for herself and our k**s annoyed me too. She was always satisfied that our c***dren didn’t come bottom in class, I would be disappointed if they did not come top, a philosophy I have always applied to myself. She was offered promotion at work, only to assistant supervisor, but this was too much responsibility and she didn’t need the money – she had a husband who would provide that. In fact, on more than one occasion she stated that she shouldn’t have to work anyway. It was my duty to provide for her for the rest of her life apparently. She was stuck between the attitudes of the 1920’s and 1990’s choosing the best bits of both for herself. Associated with her lack of ambition was a complete lack of competitiveness (though just as far as sport is concerned, not the desire to outdo and outspend other women!). I was really into badminton and even played regularly with her then lover, Kevin. She intimated that she would like to play as well but when I did try to help her she got very angry that I wouldn’t just knock the shuttlecock back and forth over the net and couldn’t grasp the idea of scoring. On reflection I suppose it was in her psyche to keep a cock up as long as possible!But my main complaint was her selfishness. Again, I suppose it was mainly my fault because I am by nature a very easy going person and would rather give way than argue unless I felt very strongly about something. Our money was mainly spent by her, often on her clothes but always it was her choice of everything. The only time she ever asked my advice was so that if things went wrong it would be my fault; not shared mind you, MY fault. I let her do just about everything she wanted; after all the extramarital sex thing had been going on before she discovered that I actually got turned on by it. And now I have a confession to make. All the descriptions of her affairs I have told above are actually my words, not hers. The most I ever got out of her after I begged her to tell me what she had got up to was “He felt my tits, then he shagged me, then I came home”. I pleaded for more information, but our sessions became more like cross examinations in court. “And what happened? Did he remove your pants?” I think you now see why I was so keen to watch; even with my vivid imagination I had difficulty getting a true and satisfying picture. So Margaret was having a great time and in return would throw me some inadequate scraps, if any at all. And of course, it was made worse because she knew that I would have let her do what she wanted anyway so her deceit was not just selfish but also very spiteful.I decided that our marriage had run its course and despite the fact that I would lose my house and possibly my business I told her I wanted a divorce. This came as a considerable shock to Margaret; she could see the gravy train about to tootle off into the distance. There were no lovers in a position to take her on and because of their ages our k**s were not the meal ticket they would have been a few years previously. After a few days when it became obvious to her that I was serious she rang me and asked me to come round one evening to talk about our problems. Like a fool I went. On reflection it should have been on neutral ground.She had arranged for the k**s to be away for the night, staying at their friends, and when I arrived it was to a lounge with lights darkened and drinks waiting on the coffee table. She was dressed in full wanton chic; short skirt, see through blouse, stockings. She pleaded and begged with me, apologised for her years of selfish behaviour and swore that she could and would change into the woman I wanted. I remain hard hearted and adamant that I wanted out of our marriage once and for all. Then she closed on me, took my hand and placed it under her dress. I felt the wettest, warmest, most swollen pair of vaginal lips I have ever encountered in my life. She positively dripped onto my fingers. This was the most extreme manifestation of a women’s body I could imagine. Did she really want me back so much that her body was screaming for my touch? Could she put this on? Or were her emotions for real?The superb cock-sucking session that she then instigated just after did nothing to settle the matter though; I’m sure she had done that often enough to dozens of men. I was, however, beginning to weaken, but not enough to stay the night. I left promising to think about it, though I had difficulty getting those engorged cunt lips out of my mind.The following days had Margaret ringing me regularly, pleading and asking if I had decided yet. On one occasion she rang to tell me that she had bought a vibrator and was playing with herself as she was speaking. This was something that I had never seen her do and the image was extremely arousing; especially as I listened to her bring herself to what I assumed to be an orgasm. However, I was still wavering but was tending towards taking the plunge and finishing our marriage when one day I had a call which convinced me.“Would you like to watch me fuck Kevin next Wednesday?” she asked. “You can be in control, tell me what you want me to do and how to behave”.I moved back home the following day and we made love wildly and often. I told Margaret about the hole in the ceiling which genuinely surprised her, and she asked how much I had seen. “Not enough”, I told her, “you were always under the covers”. “There will be no covers on Wednesday”, she promised.Wednesday could not come quickly enough for me, and Margaret appeared to be just as keen. I had her wear a matching bra and pants with suspender belt and black stockings. As I was the choreographer of this event I asked that she keep on the suspenders and stockings as I assured her this was a great turn on for most men. I did not dictate what activities to indulge in; I was keen to see how much she wanted to please me.Then the day arrived. Shortly before the expected arrival time Margaret showered and dressed as I had requested, covering it all with her silk dressing gown. I clambered into the loft and got myself as comfortable as possible in the heat and stuffiness of my surroundings, eye close to the hole which I had enlarged now that Margaret knew about it, and I assumed her lover would be too aroused to notice.A mercifully short time later I heard the dogs barking and glued my eyes to the hole, just about seeing Margaret leading her lover up the stairs. She held his hand and pulled him into our bedroom closing the door behind him. Turning she encircled his neck with her arms and kissed him deeply, all this just inches below me. I worried that he would hear my heavy breathing as I drank in the scene below. But he was obviously too engaged elsewhere. Eventually she stepped away from him and slipped off the silk dressing gown, which slid down her body to the floor. She stood in front of him in the arousing lingerie I had selected for her and it was obvious that he appreciated the effort as his eyes drank in her body. She fell into his arms again and their tongues touched and entwined deep in their mouths. Kevin’s hands reached behind her and unclasped her bra, slipping the straps over her shoulders to fall onto the floor freeing her breasts and erect nipples to his gaze, and then his touch. Margaret was now unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off his torso, bending forward and nipping his nipples with her teeth. Her hands slipped down to the waistband of his trousers and unhooked them before slowly inching down his zip. As his trousers fell to the floor she gripped the top of his underpants, now barely containing his pulsating prick, and lowered them to expose the object of her desire. She pulled backwards, sitting on the side of the bed but with her mouth level with his cock, a position she took full advantage of by drawing it deeply into her mouth and throat. Kevin grasped her shoulders as he felt the warmth and expertise of her ministrations on his throbbing prick. Anxious not to allow him to come in her mouth and cause a premature end to my show, Margaret allowed the now glistening cock to slip out of her mouth and she lay back on the bed, raising her hips to push off her pants and throw them to one side. She now lay on her back, still with garter belt and black stockings on, legs wide apart and playing with herself before her lover and husband, eyes closed and head back. We were both aroused by this sight but only Kevin could do anything about it; quickly divesting himself of his remaining clothes he dived between her legs, lifted them up around his waist and plunged into her; she gasped and threw her arms around him.He rammed hard into her for a few minutes and even up in the loft I could hear her cries. Then he stopped, withdrew and turned her over, lifting her at the waist and into the “doggie” position. I was later told that this was his favourite, especially in the Club late at night over the tables in the lounge.Positioning his cock at the entrance to her awaiting cunt he drove hard into her, holding her hips tight to prevent her falling, until finally, approaching the climax Margaret collapsed with Kevin on top. Her legs closed, tightening her cock around his prick, his hands scrabbling under her body to grab her tits. Then he came deep inside her; she could feel the warmth and let out grateful whimpers as the flood entered her womb. Margaret and I had expected more to come based on previous afternoons in her bed, but Kevin surprised us by apologising that he had a dental appointment and had to leave. To be fair to Margaret she did everything she could to get him to stay for longer. He protested that he couldn’t, but she then reached into the drawer of her bedside table and brought out the vibrator that she had told me about. She lay back and thrust it into her cunt, well lubricated with his cum, deep and often. Her eyes rolled and her head fell back as she brought herself off to an orgasm to the surprise of a spent lover and astonished watching husband. Unfortunately, even this could not persuade him to stay; he dressed and she saw him off down the stairs and to the front door with dripping cunt and just in stockings and garter belt.As soon as I heard the door close I was out of the loft and caught Margaret returning almost naked up the stairs. She led me into the bedroom and lay back inviting me between her open legs. I covered her cunt with my mouth inhaling the erotic mixtures and tasted the wetness of them both. I then lifted myself up her body and between her legs, now raised and open ready to accept me, and drove into the mixed juices that awaited. She bucked under me and I like to think that we both came together as I finally drove down and flooded her once more.When we had finally subsided, showered and dressed I took her into Southampton and bought her a leather mini skirt by way of thanking her. I told her I would stay.Chapter 11Of course, it was quite obvious that Margaret’s new found enthusiasm for our relationship was based purely on self-interest. I doubt that there was anyone that was ready at that time to take her and the k**s on, though our son was now independent and our daughter shortly to be so. And she had it made. A nice big house, sports car, a stake in a business and she didn’t have to work too hard to maintain it all. I really do regret not having the courage of my convictions and calling it a day before I was seduced back into what has become a really unsatisfactory time since then, albeit with a few high spots certainly worth recalling. But who knows what the alternative may have been for both of us. Would I have been writing this now, or perhaps not have had the time, being surrounded by hordes of nubile Thai girls.But reality now set in. There were a few more times with Kevin for Margaret but I never got to see them. He disappeared to Spain with his family and a friend to run a bar and as far as I know she hasn’t seen him since. She was now “working” in the shop with me and in the next few years neither of us had much time for anything else. I took over another shop which I dedicated to fishing tackle while Margaret ran the toys, then I changed them over as the fishing expanded and toys shrank. Then I took on an even bigger shop and we sold off the toy shop. Margaret was persuaded to go out on her own by a friend who ran a lingerie shop close by who told her how amazingly easy it was to make good money. So we invested some fairly serious money into setting her up in a lingerie shop back in Portchester where we had lived some years previously. Bad move. Really, I should have known from Margaret’s behaviour when we lived in Portchester; the women there don’t wear knickers! At least that was one theory I had for the total failure of the business and the loss of a lot of money. Another reason was that Margaret didn’t open up until 10.00am, closed for lunch and shut up shop at 4.00 pm. About the only regulars she had were the local transvestites who relished the fact that she let them try on the expensive underwear and allow them to pose in front of her. The only plus to the whole affair was that it got her out of my hair for a couple of years. In my shop she was a disaster. In the fishing tackle trade it was important that every customer was your best friend and with business being so cut-throat discounts were a way of life; they got money off for being members of fishing clubs, for being in the Navy, even for being able to walk through the door, though each and every discount was made to seem like it was just for them for being such nice people. Margaret didn’t do discounts. On one memorable occasion a very good friend of mine who had been drafted to the submarine base in Scotland persuaded his Group Purchasing Officer that high visibility flotation suits would be a good idea. He rang me to say that they would be after 200 of these and I would need to give a good price. I bought these in at £85 and sold at £120 though I usually had to give a discount. As I didn’t have to stock these, simply telling the wholesaler to send them direct to Scotland, I could make a nice few quid by just making a telephone call. The next thing I knew was my friend calling from Scotland asking me what I was playing at. Apparently someone from the shop had told the Navy that we don’t give discounts, even for massive orders like that, so they went elsewhere. That was another couple of thousand pounds I lost through her. On another occasion an ex-warrant officer I had known came into the shop with a proposition. He had been well known as having the best collection of pornography in the South of England but was about to emigrate to New Zealand and couldn’t take his collection with him because Customs may find it and he would be refused entry. So could he have a rod and reel in exchange? Oh Yes! And what a fantastic collection of videos and magazines it was as well. I had a couple of cameras in the shop and a player/recorder out back, and when business was quiet and Margaret was out on her interminable shopping trips I would spend many a happy hour marvelling at the flexibility and imagination of hordes of nubile boys and girls.On the home front nothing much was happening. Our visits to the community centre were less interesting now that Kevin was no longer there, and no obvious replacement appeared. After a while we stopped getting invites to the “interesting” parties which went on after Margaret had declined so often and as she was now once again confident that I wasn’t about to leave the sexual element of our marriage dwindled away. She’d got in with a couple of her old friends from Portchester again and wanted to go the Vosper Thorneycroft Social Club there with them. As one of these friends was married to a retired police inspector and very prudish I didn’t see it as a problem so did not raise any objections. I did use to ask if there were any interesting men at the social club, but she said it was all bingo, dancing and retired shipbuilders. However, after a few months I began to have my suspicions. It wasn’t anything I could put my finger on and remember that she could have done whatever she wanted; indeed, it may have helped revive our flagging marriage. All she had to do was to tell me all about it. But such was the measure of her selfishness she would rather take the risk.One night I confided in our neighbour (whose wife I received those blow jobs from for so many weeks) and he suggested that I borrow his car to keep an eye on her as she would go in my car and the shop van was a bit too conspicuous for surveillance work. So later that night I drove to Portchester and the Social Club. Our car was in the car park but there was no easy way of looking into the club itself to see what she was up to, so I settled down to watch. And I didn’t have long to wait. Shortly after 10.00pm I saw her come out of the club arm in arm with a middle-aged guy I have never seen before. They got into her car and left the car park with me not too close behind and started off towards Portsmouth. They ended up some four miles later outside a house in Leigh Park, a massive sprawling council estate, and entered together, still arm in arm and laughing and joking. There was, unfortunately, no way I could get close, so I had to wait in the car, fuming, for them to finish. This was just so unfair, it was a deliberate act of infidelity made far worse by knowing that she could have let me know what was going on, but she’d rather just enjoy a quick fuck, for a quick fuck was all it was. Less than 30 minutes later they were out of the house and heading back to the club for her to say goodbye to her friends and head back home at closing time. And of course, yet again all her friends were aware that she was shagging around so I was, to them, the cuckold to be laughed at behind my back.When she finally got home I was waiting in the bedroom for her. I accused her of shagging behind my back and she denied it hotly. I pushed her onto the bed and forced my hand up her skirt, ripped aside her pants and dug out fingers full of cum to wave in front of her face. Faced, literally, with undeniable evidence she crumpled and cried, saying it was the first time, she didn’t mean to do it and wouldn’t do it again. I was totally unconvinced, equally positive that it was not the first time and that she would do it again if she thought she could get away with it. So started a period of utter misery in our relationship which was to last for many years. By this time, I had so much energy and money tied up in the business I could not easily detach myself from our marriage without losing almost everything, though I was tempted to give it all up anyway.I don’t think Margaret did do anything again, she must have known that I would not put up with it and would have made her life hell. Our c***dren now had left home, our son running a business from Margaret’s old lingerie shop for which she had foolishly signed a twenty year lease, and our daughter moving up North to the Wirral to search for her roots; Margaret’s parents, sisters and brother all lived there and she got a job as dental nurse with her aunt (married to a dentist), for which she was qualified.Sometime later our daughter told us she was living with a partner in Ellesmere Port and inevitably, we assume deliberately, she got pregnant and we got the first of six grandsons. Margaret wanted to move back up north to be with her daughter and family and after some thought I agreed. Our son was doing well, he had his own house and business and we thought no longer needed us, not as much as our daughter anyway. So we put the fishing tackle shop and house on the market. It didn’t take too long to sell either of them. The shop went to an ex- navy Warrant Officer who used his gratuity to buy what he thought would be a nice little earner. He worked with me in the shop for eight weeks during which time I taught him all the tricks of the trade, rod making skills, how to handle unreliable and dishonest bait diggers, how to clean maggots – all the fun parts of the business. Unfortunately for him within two years he had got cancer and died; his widow tried to continue, employing muppets, but the shop subsequently went downhill and closed. Most of my regulars were very sorry to see me go. I always flirted with the wives of the customers and one in particular quite surprised me. She was rather young, attractive if slightly overweight but disabled, walking with crutches or sometimes in a wheelchair. Both she and her husband were very emotional in the last week and on the last day she came into the shop alone on crutches and leant over the counter to kiss me goodbye. Expecting a peck on the cheek or lips I was startled to find her tongue deep in my mouth reaching for my tonsils and her hand fondling my crutch! I quickly gained my composure and soon my hands found their way to reaching into her open jacket to fondle her breasts. This was obviously not unwelcoming to her as she redoubled her attempt to eat my tongue and her breathing became more rapid and heavier. Her hand struggled with the zip in my trousers for a moment but then I felt the coolness of her fingers touch my groin and then grasp the hardness of my cock. One of my hands was by now slipping into one of her bra cups and felt the glorious warmth of a firm breast and erect nipple. All this in the middle of the shop and in full view of passers-by!I led her into the back room and we continued with our groping, grappling and caressing though I was very conscious of her problems with standing. After a few minutes she pulled me backwards towards a chair on which she sat, one leg straight and to one side. She now had my cock out and was able, by bending forward, to firstly lick the throbbing head then totally engorge the full length into a very warm, wet and welcoming mouth. I ran my hands through her thick auburn hair, closed my eyes and threw back my head as she proceeded to give me the best blow job since the blessed Andrea many years before. Due to my recent abstinence it was never going to take long, and I soon warned her that I would be coming but she just redoubled the lip and tongue action then accepted my spurting cum into her mouth. And it was an enormous amount of accumulated sperm that she held there, rolling it around her mouth and over my still throbbing cock, until with a slurping noise she pulled off me, noisily swallowed and ran her tongue over her lips. She took a final sweet little kiss of my deflating and slimy cock before tucking me away and pulling herself up. “That”, she said, “was my going away present”. Thank god no one came into the shop for the whole five minutes it took!If I had known how aroused she could make me I most certainly have tried my luck before. Never let a disability cloud your judgement about a woman.Chapter 11With shop and home sold we then moved to the North, Merseyside, to commence a new stage in our relationship. The hope was that a change in scene would improve our marriage. Some hope.Due to the price differential for housing between the north and south we could pay cash for a reasonable place and with my navy pension it was possible that I would only need a part-time job to maintain a reasonable standard of living. Well, that was the theory anyway. Of course, it didn’t quite turn out like that but as this is a biography about sex we’ll just précis and skip.Due to having to support my daughter who ended up in a very unsatisfactory relationship which cost me many thousands, having a wife with an aversion to paid work and poor record in keeping a job, and paying for a large extension to the house we bought I ended up having to work full-time as a general manager for an engineering company. As it was quite a small one I was responsible for IT, administration, quality management and what was becoming a burgeoning part of industrial life, health and safety. On the personal side my relationship with Margaret was just plain awful. I would be exaggerating if I said I had sex more than once a year over that period and what I did have, out of desperation mainly, was to say the least very unsatisfactory. The only silver lining to my grey cloud of misery was that I had two grandsons to whom I devoted a great deal of time, energy and love. As they were to live with us for a part of the time due to the poor relationship that their parents had, they too were a drain on my emotions and finances.Having no friends in the North, having been away for so long, I did not have much of a social life and did not get on with my in-laws at all, so I did what many men in that position do, resorted to a good right hand, the internet (still in its infancy) and ladies of the night. One Sunday afternoon I was driving along a rather rundown part of Birkenhead, the Corporation Road and Cleveland Street area, when I noticed a very good looking, very young girl standing in the doorway of a shuttered-up corner shop and she flashed me a wonderful smile. Now, I have no delusions about my attractiveness and I quickly realised that I had found the red-light district. I have to say that I was certainly attracted to that one in particular, though I actually never saw her again and suspect she may have been a “plant” by the police on one of their clean-ups. I had no problems telling Margaret that I was going out that night as she couldn’t have cared less. So I drove back into town. I soon got the hang of things; you drove slowly and looked at the girls, if they were available they gave a little nod. You pulled up and they came to the car. Thanks to the marvel of electric windows you could negotiate at the same time as checking them out in close-up. All I wanted was a blow job, anything to actually get relief from someone other than my right hand! The first one I approached came to the window, she was certainly better looking than I expected. As this was my first time I was rather hesitant and embarrassed so quickly agreed to a price of £25. She slipped into the passenger’s seat and told me where to go for the dastardly deed. She was quite chatty and self-assured despite being young, late teens or early twenties, and sensing that it was my first time took charge. I handed over my money and she reached over, opened my zip, fumbled for my cock – which was rather straining to get out anyway – flipped it out and bent over to take it in her mouth. The warm, wet feeling of her lips and tongue brought back memories of the beloved Andrea and our amazing times together. She rubbed me along my length wile flicking her tongue around the head, tasting my pre-cum and savouring the sweet taste. He expert ministrations brought me to an exhilarating climax all too soon and I was flooding her mouth with a week’s worth of warm cream. She held it for a while before slipping my cock from her mouth and spitting the cum into a tissue. That last bit was disappointing for me, used as I was to Andrea savouring every drop.After that I took to driving around the red-light areas on a regular basis and for £20 – £25 I got regular blow jobs which I felt was well worth it in the circumstances. Only once did I actually fuck one of the ladies and that was when at midday I was driving along and saw a working girl I had used several times coming out of a pub. Seeing her for the first time in daylight I was quite impressed with how attractive she was, in her twenties, very slim and well dressed. She recognised me as I slowed down going past her and joined me as I pulled in onto some wasteland. I told her I was feeling desperate and she led me to the rear of the car, bent over the boot and pulled up her skirt to expose a beautifully formed pantie clad arse. It was only a matter of moments before I was unzipped and pounding into her. I remember looking over the roof of the car at the passing lunch-time traffic as I thrust in and out of her surprisingly well lubricated cunt. I remember grabbing her hips and pushing hard as I came while through half-closed eyes I saw a bus pass with a couple of curious passengers staring at us through the window. It only added to my enjoyment – the exhibitionist in me. As I handed over a twenty pound note I suddenly realised that I had not used any protection. For a while after that I worried about every twinge I felt anywhere in my lower regions. I did later donate blood and it was accepted with no little note to my doctor later stating that I had a STD; still worrying though, so no more shagging the professionalsA few more years of the same old, same old; ignored by the wife and keeping the female Merseyside underclass in money for smokes and worse. I had a few regulars and felt quite comfortable with it all.Eventually I became a partner in a small professional consultancy which involved a great deal of travel. One evening I was at a small party held by the senior partner, Margaret hadn’t come, she never wanted to meet my friends (except the bank manager of course). I was introduced to Lynn, a recently widowed middle-aged woman and eventually in the early hours of the morning there were just the four of us, senior partner and wife, me and Lynn all smooching to romantic music (and all very, very “relaxed”). I started to get a little bit heavy, deep kissing, roaming hands, thrusting groins, you know the sort of things. The response was amazing; I’m sure from the sounds she uttered, that she orgasmed several times as I pulled her into me. My friend was given me the thumbs up over his wife’s shoulder, not that I needed any encouragement. I walked her home in the early hours and got a “knee trembler” as my reward. Naturally I asked her out and the following night we went to a pub to get to know each other. She had married an Asian guy, a manager in the Middle East where she had lived for a while. She had two daughters, early twenties and fifteen. Her husband had died a year previously and she said, as she squeezed my hand, that she felt it was time to start her life again. And she did. At midnight that night we were in the back of my car in a local beauty spot and I had her pants off licking her clit as she played with my cock in her mouth, rolling her tongue around the head and sampling my pre-cum. Soon she was naked to the waist and sitting astride me, bouncing up and down on my cock, oblivious I’m sure, to the other cars parked close byTO BE CONTINUED

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