Finding The Seedy Underbelly (Part One)

My husband and I walked into Rose and her husband’s lounge, and my husband presented hers with a couple of bottles of wine. He seemed pleased with our choices, but quickly put them down and turned his attention to me. I had taken my shawl off and given it to my husband to hang up, and as my husband turned away to do so, Rose’s husband, without saying a word to me, pulled my roll-neck jumper up from my waist to reveal my tits, which he knew on that night would not be encased by a bra. I knew I wouldn’t need one. I knew my tits would be out in seconds.

As I carried on the greetings with Rose, who was verbally ignoring her husband’s actions, he picked up each of my tits in turn, sucked on the nipple and had a very gentle chew, something he knew would be making my cunt very moist very quickly. After dealing with both nipples, he squeezed and kneaded my tits for a bit; that always gets me excited, and he knew it.

When he was satisfied with his working of my tits, he just let them go, gravity accelerating them downwards before my body slightly painfully put on the brakes. He then picked up the bottles and took them into the kitchen. Without adjusting my clothing, with my tits still very much out on display, I sat on the sofa, carrying on conversing with Rose about something mundane, with her ignoring my half naked appearance.

My husband, having hung up my shawl, came back into the room and, seeing my tits already out, went straight over to Rose. He held out a hand to her, like a man asking a woman to dance, and she took it, getting up out of her seat. He pulled at the waistband of her top and pulled it up, her lifting her arms to aid removal. Also braless, her tits were dragged up with the fabric and then pulled free and dropped and bounced into view. My husband roughly grabbed one of her tits in each hand and squeezed and kneaded them, ultimately focussing on squashing her nipples each between a thumb and forefinger. Such harsh tit work was making conversation hard for her, but she persisted.

I felt a presence next to me and felt a hand on the back of my head as Rose’s husband turned my head towards his cock, which was sticking out from his trousers. I replied to Rose’s last comment before taking his cock in my mouth and starting to work it with my tongue. As I took his length, my head bobbed backwards and forwards, and I always took care to release his cock from my mouth so that I could reply to what Rose was saying, before immediately taking his cock back into my mouth and working until it was long and hard.

In the meantime, my husband positioned Rose over the arm of the chair. As she bent over it, her short skirt rode up to reveal her pantyless state and her beautiful ass and glistening cunt.

His hand went straight to her cunt and, with her still trying to hold the mundane conversation with me, he started masturbating her, gently at first and then with increasing intensity and harshness. His working her cunt was making it hard for her to string a sentence together, but she persisted. She had to, even when he lent forward and pulled at her tits, encouraging them to wobble and snap backwards and forwards even more as her body moved to his fingers.

Despite holding the conversation, Rose still shrieked as my husband’s fingering brought her to her first orgasm of the night, and instead of carrying on fingering her as I thought he would, he took his hand away and dropped to his knees, bringing his tongue and mouth to her juicy cunt to enjoy the fruits of his labours.

Watching another man lick his wife’s cunt seemed to make Rose’s husband particularly hard, and as he withdrew his cock from my mouth, he twisted me on the sofa, pushing me round so that my face was against the seat and my ass and cunt were in mid-air. Pushing up my skirt and holding onto my hips, he just lined up and drove his cock into my already slick cunt, slippery from all the tit-manhandling and cock-sucking. I turned my head to answer Rose again and saw that my husband standing again and that his cock was buried in her cunt, his ass muscles rippling as he drove into her, holding her hips to accentuate his drive, at the same time as her husband was holding my hips and driving his cock into my cunt. Nothing was said about the sex, just about where Rose had gone shopping and what she had bought.

This is going to take a lot of explaining.

This all started with me being convinced that there was a seedy underbelly to this village. Underneath the idyllic charm, underneath the rural beauty, underneath the prim and proper exterior, I was sure there was lots of sordid goings-on, lots of depravity, lots of sex. But I didn’t have a sniff of it for ages after we moved in, and even then, there wasn’t a lot.

The village had balls; you know old style dances. Invitation only, and we were invited. The outfits were fabulous. The men of course had suits, cabaret ones, tuxedos or full three-piece ones, and I do love a man in a suit: makes me wet just thinking about it. For the women, the outfits were much more flamboyant, much more adventurous, much more revealing. Sometimes, our dresses were tight or had very short skirts, not leaving that much to the imagination (especially if you weren’t wearing panties, and I can tell you I was far from being alone in that). Sometimes, they were gowns, long with splits as deep as our hips, again somewhat risky without panties. That was the fun of it. Some fucking always happened out the back of the venue, quite a few couples not just us, but whilst it was public, it was always discrete.

We always seemed to end up outside fucking round the back of the village hall at the same time as Rose and her husband and Anna and her husband, and on the back of those simultaneous fucks, we all turned into good friends. I knew my husband really wanted to fuck Anna, but that wasn’t on the cards, and I think he was content with just watching her get fucked out of the corner of his eye, and I was the lucky recipient of a ridiculously hard cock whilst he was watching her; his cock didn’t hide what he really wanted. You know how much how I love watching sex and being watched, so those were great nights.

The only other sniff of debauchery I had was a few weeks before the scene mentioned at the start of this post, where I saw one of my female neighbours in the middle of the night, naked bent over the kitchen sink (and facing the window with the blind fully up), clearly being fucked by the man behind her, whilst her tits snapped backwards and forwards in clear view of anyone out there. I had hoped I wasn’t seen, but I was mesmerised and stayed watching (and masturbating with my skirt lifted up, hiding nothing in the process) until they were both finished, and I was so turned on that I had to wake my husband to do the same to me (although our kitchen is at the back, so it was private).

But clearly, they must have seen me, because a week later, she was at my front door with Rose, who was also a good friend of hers. Her name was Tanya, and it turned out that the man fucking her wasn’t her husband, and I hadn’t recognised him as Anna’s husband, and as Rose told me, my heart sank a little for Anna, as I thought her husband was having an affair. But equally, my heart was pounding as I had finally found some more debauchery, sordidness and sex, and secretly, I loved it.

But everything was not as it seemed, and there were three things that made them think they needed to talk to me: our fucking beside them at the balls, the fact Tanya and Anna’s husband saw me unashamedly wanking as they fucked, and the fact that I had apparently admitted to Anna about this blog (to be honest, I can’t remember that at all, so it must have been one of the evenings when there was more than a little wine involved). All that meant that they thought I would understand, that they thought I was perfect to get involved. But I really had no idea what it was they thought I was perfect to get involved with, apart from the fact that it involved fucking, and quite possibly people other than their own husbands. I was fine with that, and in the back of my mind was the fact that my husband might get to fuck Anna after all. Suddenly, the stakes felt high, and not just for my wonderful friends.