Part Time Assistant I was snowed-under at work and my boss asked if I needed an assistant. It didn't take me long to agree and I worked with him to write a job description for an Accountancy Assistant and get an advert posted. After work, my wife Claire gave me a hug and asked how my day had been. She, at thirty, was a naturally perky blonde that I adored. I still didn't know what she saw in me, especially over the past few years where my workload had made me depressed and inevitably our sex life had suffered. We'd not had sex for over three years now - I was always too tired, but in reality my confidence was very low which caused erectile dysfunction. Claire had been at a bit of a loose end at home - government cuts had made her teaching job redundant and she hadn't found a replacement yet. My wages were okay, so we weren't starving, but it's fair to say we were in a rut. Nearly every evening we stayed at home and didn't socialize much - she'd never even met any of the people I worked with. I told her about the new job and that I was likely to be interviewing alongside the boss for an assistant in a couple of weeks and she listened carefully whilst she made me a cup of tea. Our conversation carried on and we went about our usual evening rituals. Later that night, I watched as she undressed for bed. Her body still perfect in the soft light as she sat naked at the dressing table brushing her hair, breasts moving gently with each stroke. "John," she said softly, aware that I was looking over the top of my book and watching her instead of reading it. "Yes, love?" "This job - is it something I could do?" I thought for a moment. The idea hadn't occurred to me. "Well, it's not that difficult. I'd be expected to train the successful applicant anyway. Yes, I think you could do it, but I'll need to interview and if I chose my own wife, it would be seen as a conflict of interest. Honestly, I'd rather not have to make that choice." She brushed her hair in silence a little longer, seemingly accepting my concern. A short while later, she slipped quietly into bed beside me. My libido was tweaked by her near perfect body, but I could tell she wasn't in the mood - and my own failures to achieve erection on the few times we had tried over the past months put enough doubt in me not to start something I couldn't finish. We were both asleep quite soon. Back at work over the next two weeks, HR put forward several job applications having first weeded out the obviously unsuitable. I read them all and forwarded half a dozen possible to my boss, Richard, who cut them down to three and set the interview date for that friday. Friday came and I re-read the three applications. Mrs Smith at 10, Mr Clarke at 11 and a Miss Jones at 12. On paper, they were all fairly equal, having basic office experience but not much accounting background. Richard and I were to interview them in his office. Mrs Smith was a belligerent fifty year old woman. She was five minutes late and perhaps to cover up this embarrassment, was actively aggressive during interview. I would not have been able to work with her at all. Mr Clarke was a 19 year old youth who stank of weed. His unfocused eyes and nonsensical responses made it abundantly clear that he was currently high and within five minutes, Richard stood up and explained "You're high. I am ending this interview now, and whilst we're a gardening firm, we don't do /that/ kind of gardening! Get out!" As we now had a fair break before the final candidate, we had a cup of coffee and a chat. Obviously we were disappointed and I said that if there was any hope the final candidate might be able to do the job, could we just employ them and see how they went? Richard agreed - he could see I was under pressure and neither of us wanted to start advertising all over again. Noon came around and the final applicant was shown into Richard's office. My mouth dropped! "Miss Jones" was none other than my wife! I sat stunned as Richard welcomed her in and sat her down, beaming broadly. And no wonder! She was wearing a shirt with several buttons undone and showing a considerable amount of cleavage, to which Richard treated himself to a good eyeful as she sat. I sat, still shocked, looking at somebody so familiar yet so out of context. I saw she had removed her wedding ring, and remembered her maiden name was Jones. Richard was talking to me. "Uh, what?" I said. "Earth to John! He quietly mocked. "Miss Jones, sorry - Claire - was just explaining that she's fresh to the job market following a recent divorce and eager to prove her worth to our company. Do you have some questions to ask her?" He knew I did, so I slipped back into 'work' mode and asked the standard questions I had asked the others. Richard was clearly besotted and had already made up his mind, smiling broadly and giving encouraging signs at all her answers. After a short time, the standard questions were done and Richard took over. He asked about her history; she lived nearby and wanted to "make a fresh start with life". She was happy to take any hours that were offered and had no ties or family life to interfere. She had some office experience and was a quick learner, claimed to get on well with anyone and was especially keen to "do whatever it took to be accepted". Richard's eyebrows raised at this but she met his gaze squarely. With barely a glance at me, he stood up and shook her hand, saying "Well Claire, I think I speak for both of us in congratulating you for an excellent interview, and I would like to offer you the job here and now!" I nodded dumbly and Richard showed Claire to the door. They paused there and I saw him write something on the back of one of his business cards. Quite clearly, I heard him say "If you've any questions, please don't hesitate to call - this is my personal number - any time of day or night. It will be a pleasure to have you here." She thanked him and as she took his card, holding her other hand on his arm as she did so. A strangely personal, intimate moment. Then she was gone and Richard came striding back into the room, clearly very happy with his choice - showing more excited energy than I ever remember him doing so before. "Isn't she brilliant, John?" he asked. Then without waiting for my answer, "She'll brighten up these offices so much, and she can start on Monday! You'd better sort her out a desk and computer!" I spent the remainder of the work day clearing space at a desk, arranging for a PC to be installed and talking over with HR about induction, work plans. I noticed then that she had given our house name for her address instead of the usual number, presumably so that they looked different, and clearly marked her relationship status as "Single". When I got home, Claire was waiting for me with a big smile on her face and gave me a huge hug. I wasn't sure how to react, but I couldn't help joining in her obvious happiness and after she passed me a beer, she began to explain. "Don't be angry with me, John - now you can't say there's any conflict of interest or that I got the job because of you! I'm so proud to have got this on my own strengths, and I promise to try my hardest. And it'll be fun for me to be able to know who you're talking about after work! You know I care deeply what people think of me, and without a job I am beginning to think they might consider me useless, or sponging off you." I couldn't fault her logic. She was stagnating at home and the company really wasn't a bad one. I asked her, "What do you think Richard will say when we tell him you're my wife?" She looked serious then, and slightly biting her lip she said quietly, "Do we have to tell him?" I was confused but she went on, "He - they - don't need to know. I can't help but think that others will think I only got the job because of you and I'll be seen as a hanger-on. I need to know I can keep this job because I'm good at it - not because I'm married to you." She looked so concerned that I had to agree, and she gave me a huge hug and a kiss. Her hand rubbed against the front of my trousers, but my cock was flaccid and despite some gentle kneading, it stayed that way. I broke off our kiss and turned away, annoyed with myself and my body. "Never mind," she said understandingly, "Maybe another day." The weekend passed uneventfully and we worked out how this would work. Each of us would arrive separately, she removing her wedding ring en-route. I'd treat her as any other member of staff. On Monday morning, I showered first and left whilst she was still getting ready. At nine o'clock, she arrived at my office and was greeting by Tony from HR. Soon enough, Tony had finished and he showed her to my office and sat her down, saying to me "John, over to you! Claire's ready for you to start showing her the ropes." I smiled and Tony left us alone. I brought my chair over next to hers and in the relative privacy of our room, quietly asked; "How's it going so far?" "Really good - everyone is so nice!" I smiled and started teaching her some of the systems. She'd dressed quite conservatively in a trim blouse with a black pencil skirt but her trim figure was quite obvious and on four inch heels, she walked in a way that caused your eyes to follow and your train of thought to be interrupted. Over the following week, I saw a lot of the men watching her walk away from them, and I knew she already had admirers. It's a strange feeling to know people are ogling your wife, especially when they feel free to tell you about it. "John," said Richard one day, "Your new assistant is H-O-T! If I was five years younger, and not married, boy - I'd make her my mission!" Indeed, quite a few of the men - especially the young and aggressive sales men - had dropped by to say hello to her and chat about this and that. As Friday rolled around, I returned from going to the toilet to see Jerry - one of the young salesmen - leave my office. When I entered, Claire was actually blushing! I quietly asked her what was going on? She "Shh!"d me and told me she would tell me later. Sure enough, that evening - having each driven home a different way - she confided that Jerry had been chatting her up and had asked her out on a date that evening. I asked what she had said. "No, of course! But he was really pushy and wanted to know what else I was doing on a Friday night that was so important. I panicked, John! I told him I was taking my mother for a meal!" I was shocked that somebody had asked my wife out - but why was I? She was a beautiful and bubbly woman, seemingly free and single - why wouldn't she get offers? I should have thought of this before! She was still flushed and excited about being asked, and started kissing me. I wanted to reciprocate, to take this gorgeous woman and satisfy her, but something in my mind just wouldn't let me go with the moment. Sensing my inability, she withdrew and went up to bed by herself as I stayed down and watched telly. I went up an hour or so later and she was already asleep with the covers thrown back, her flawless skin glowing in the moonlight through the window. I stood watching her, cursing myself for not being a proper man and taking her as she had clearly wanted. Back at work the following week it seemed that she had somehow become a target amongst the salesmen as one after another popped by through the days to fetch her a drink, ask if she wanted anything, and just hang out with her at the water cooler. This week, two of them asked her on a date. Again, each one she turned down and told me of it in the evening and each time she was visibly aroused. I was proud of her for resisting them, although disgusted with myself for not being able to satisfy her, or even take advantage of her arousal at being courted by these young and handsome men. She'd started leaving a button undone on her blouse, and wearing a slightly shorter skirt that ended just below mid-thigh, having gone out at the weekend to buy it. I was beginning to suspect she enjoyed all this attention and wondered where it was leading. She had also learned the basics of the work I was giving her, so I was leaving her alone more and more as I concentrated on my own workload. One day I had a meeting with Richard and a new client in the meeting room. They were running a little late and Richard was filling the time by talking about Claire, asking me what I knew of her, what she liked - clearly wanting ammunition to ask her out himself. I interrupted his questions by asking, "Richard, you're married! You're not thinking of anything improper, are you?" He just laughed and slapped me on the back. "What the goose doesn't know won't hurt her! And besides, I know the sales team haven't had any joy with her - they actually think she might be a lesbian. I want to give her a try myself, perhaps I can succeed where those little boys have failed?" Our client arrived and we got on with the meeting. That evening, over dinner, I mentioned to Claire what Richard had said. She was clearly interested and made me repeat everything that he had said. She was very quiet when I mentioned about the rumour she was a lesbian, although I had repeated it light-heartedly, she was clearly concerned by it. That night as we lay next to each other in bed, she quietly said "John?" "Yes, love?" "Please don't be angry with me for what I'm about to say." "What?" "You know I care what people think of me, and I really don't want to be thought of as a lesbian, John. I've run out of excuses not to go on a date - after all I'm young, free and single!" She waggled her left hand at me and I was shocked to see she hadn't put her wedding ring back on after work as she'd been doing. Why hadn't I noticed before? "Go on," I said - not entirely liking where this was going. "John - I'd like to accept the next date I'm asked on." I was silent. She had actually said it! "John?" "Yes?" "Please answer. You know I love you, I really do, and if you say no, I won't. But I might enjoy a night out." I thought about this, but I already knew I couldn't deny her. I loved her too and she was right, I wasn't much fun - we certainly didn't go out and enjoy ourselves much as a couple. What right did I have to deny her an evening out? "Ok, love." She turned over and gave me a big hug and kiss as a thank you. We drifted off to sleep with her spooning me, soft breasts pushing into my back. The very next day, Richard made his move. Again I was in the meeting room with a client - this time explaining our hire purchase contract to them, whilst Claire was working alone in my office. I saw Richard go in and close the door behind him. I couldn't leave my customer - he was a young man just starting up as a gardener and needed better equipment. He wasn't a businessman and was having trouble grasping the subject so it was taking a while, but I kept an eye on my office door whilst patiently explaining the details. After about ten minutes, the door opened and Richard walked out, smiling. Eventually my customer seemed to grasp it, and left to consider. I returned and raised an enquiring eyebrow at Claire as I entered. She smiled broadly at me and approached my desk and whilst holding a piece of paper so she could pretend she was talking about work to anyone that walked past the door, she explained Richard had sat on her desk and chatted away, asking all about her, using some of the info I'd shared the week before. He'd said that he was impressed by her progress at the firm, and wanted to talk about how things were going and how she found it but that he was pushed for time this week and would she care to meet one evening for a meal to continue their discussion ahead of her probation review? He'd named a nice restaurant nearby and asked her to meet him there that evening at eight. I asked how she'd answered. "I know what we discussed, but I said I'd need to check with my mother first. What do you think, should I?" "He doesn't normally ask new starters out to dinner," I said. "Figures," Claire answered. "And he wasn't wearing his wedding ring. But still?" "If you want to." I answered with a lump in my throat. Claire gave me a smile and left our office. She went to Richard and told him she was free for dinner tonight, and she would meet him there. For the rest of the day, Claire wore an inscrutable smile and Richard kept whistling a jaunty tune from time to time. That evening I was treated to the bizarre sight of my wife dressing for a date with another man. She showered and dressed in a pretty floral summer dress over a matching pair of blue nylon panties and bra. She kissed me goodbye and drove off - leaving a hint of her perfume in my nostrils. It's a strange feeling. Your partner, the person you've spent your evenings with for many years, leaving you alone to share her evening with someone else. I knew Richard quite well, professionally. He liked to talk and I knew he had been unfaithful to his wife several times. I was under no illusion that he wanted to add Claire to his list of conquests, but I thought she would resist him yet still have an enjoyable meal out. I heard Claire's car arrive. I checked the clock - 11.30. Her key in the lock and she walked into the lounge where I was sat, again watching the tv. I looked up and saw that her carefully brushed hair was a little unruly, and she had a bit of a flush in her cheeks and a glint in her eye. She sat down and I turned the sound off the telly. "How was it?" I asked. "Fun!" Claire said, beaming. "That's a really nice restaurant - well, it's actually a pub with very good food. Richard was very welcoming and good company. The place was really busy because there was a live band playing and after our meal, we danced for a quite a while. Did you know he could dance? He's quite the mover! Then we sat and talked away from the music for a little longer, it was really nice." I was jealous but tried not to show it. After all, I'd given my permission. "Did he, you know, try anything?" I asked carefully. "Well, he did keep trying to pour me wine, but I was driving so only drank the one glass. And he did flatter me a lot - despite the reason for our evening meeting he hardly mentioned work at all - and whilst we danced his hand did drop low on one of the slow numbers. He definitely felt my pantie-line, John! He made it clear that he found me attractive and that was a big morale-boost for me." She paused and for a moment looked uncertain before continuing, "I felt Richard's cock pushing against me as we danced, John. He was hard." I know she didn't say that to hurt me, but it still did. My own cock hadn't been hard in her presence for some time. It must have been flattering indeed to know she had provoked such a response. But now - I realized my penis was stirring as she told me these things, but she wasn't able to see that. "Then what?" I asked. "Then we sat down away from the music and chatted for a bit. The conversation did turn sexual - he asked about my partners, what sort of things I liked, what sort of man I fancied - you know." I did know. Richard was lining her up for a fuck. "And then?" "Then I made my excuses and came home!" She kissed me on the forehead and went upstairs to bed. I turned off the tv and followed, watching her undress carefully and put her pretty dress in the hamper. She undid her bra and slid down her knickers. I definitely saw moisture in the gussett before they, too, disappeared in the hamper. I undressed too - my penis now deflated back to a useless dangling tube. As she walked into the bathroom, I quickly opened the hamper and took out her still-warm panties. Yes - the gussett was definitely moist - I sniffed it, her rich aroma filling my nose. Clearly Richard wasn't the only one to have become aroused by the dancing! I quickly put the panties back as I heard the toilet flush and slipped into bed. Claire joined me and pressed her warm body against my back. Her small hand reached over and gently stroked my cock, giving it a squeeze and a bit of a tug, but it remained flaccid and she soon stopped. I felt that was a final test of me and that my body had failed hers. We lay there breathing in sync until just as I was about to fall asleep, she whispered, "Richard's taking me out again tomorrow..." I shot bolt upright in bed and said "What?!" "Shh, honey. I enjoyed myself, what harm is another nice evening out in good company?" She was almost purring as she fell asleep beside me. It was a long time before I was able to. The next morning was Friday and I asked where she would be going that night? She said Richard was collecting her - so could I please park my car further down the street and keep out of sight for eight so I wouldn't blow her cover. Now he knew she liked dancing (another thing I was bad at!) then he would be taking her to a club after a few drinks at a bar. At work, Richard was in our office several times through the day, each time to chat to Claire who was certainly welcoming to him - smiling, chatting, flicking her hair back as they flirted together in front of me. He was the boss, so nobody was going to tell him off for wasting time - and I was very neatly trapped into not being able to say anything. Claire had now stopped wearing my ring entirely. After lunch, a florist delivered a bunch of red roses for her. She squealed in delight as she read the card and when she saw they were from Richard, jumped up to give him a kiss on the cheek as he stood in the doorway. My heart dropped a little, but for some reason a part of me was aroused by this display, especially as his hand reached behind her and cupped a buttock as she leant into him briefly. The moment was one of a couple, of him claiming ownership of her. Not over me - he had no clue I was her husband and had spent years with her. The day wore on, slowly for me but quickly for her. Again we made our ways home, she left after me and was fifteen minutes later back home clutching her roses. When she came through the door, buzzing with energy, I asked why she'd taken so long to get home. "Oh, I stayed behind and talked to Richard." "Is that all?" I asked, a little surly. "Oh babe, sorry to make you jealous. I don't mean to, but this is such fun - it's like being young again! We did have a little kiss after everyone else had gone, but I left as soon as he tried to feel my boobs." Her expression changed to one of sadness and she pouted a little, "Do you want me to stop this, John? Shall I ring him and tell him I won't go out tonight and have fun?" I considered. I was a little scared that even if I said no, she would still go and I would lose all pretense of having some control over my wife. I forced a smile. "No, love. You go out tonight and enjoy yourself. Just promise to tell me everything when you get home." Claire threw her arms around me and gave me a hugely happy hug and a big sloppy kiss. I wondered how little that 'kiss' had been with Richard, but I couldn't taste anything unusual She spent the new couple of hours happily getting ready. Taking a long, hot bath and shaving her legs and armpits. I brought her a glass of wine in the bath and sat on the toilet chatting, while admiring her perfect body. Her pubic hair was trimmed tidily as usual, and her breasts full and perfect. My lack of ability in the bedroom meant I'd been unsuccessful in siring children and the subject had been put on hold, so her body at thirty was still free from sag or stretch mark. She stood up in the bath after drinking the wine and while the water drained away I patted this goddess dry with a big fluffy towel, all over. Once dry, she walked confidently to the bedroom and passed me the moisturizing lotion. "Be a love, would you?" she asked and lay down. Well, this was no hardship. I liberally and slowly rubbed the lotion into her soft, damp and yielding skin, savoring the experience. First her neck, shoulders, back - then her lovely buttocks and a quick slide up her crevice to ensure every inch was moisturized. Down her legs and feet, then she turned over. Still at her feet, I worked my way up. Shins, knees, thighs... Inner thighs... An inch of my index finger slid inside her and up, carrying the lotion into her crack. She shuddered in pleasure, eyes closed and enjoying my work. Then up across her hips, stomach, up her sides, around and under her perfect breasts, then her newly shaved armpits, neck and with the tips of my fingers - her face to its hairline. Finishing, I kissed her lightly on her lips and declared; "Perfect." For some strange reason I had enjoyed this ritualistic preparation of my woman for another man, and I felt my penis swell. She hadn't noticed and although I felt a desire to swiftly shove it hard between her oiled thighs, I said nothing about it. "Do you think he'll like me?" she asked, eyes still closed. "Any man would. You are gorgeous." I replied honestly. She got up and crossed to the dressing table, sitting in front of its mirror and carefully brushing her long, blonde hair. She put in two small silver earrings and a thin silver chain around her neck. I'd seen her prepare herself many times before, but never in this context - exclusively for somebody else. "You are a love. Please can you fetch me the blue carrier bag in the bottom of the wardrobe?" I spotted it quickly and passed it to her and she emptied the bag's contents on the dresser. Inside were two items. Firstly she put on a very thin white g-string. Smaller than anything I'd seen her in before, the front only just covered her blonde bush. The view from the rear was astonishing - just a thin white cord disappearing between her cheeks. The second item turned out to be a white sleeveless halter-top dress. Sliding it up her body and tightly over her golden breasts, she looked amazing. Held up by a thin strap behind her neck, it squeezed her breasts together enough for an impressive cleavage while flaring out at mid-thigh. Stunning. Together with a pair of two-inch heels for dancing, she was the perfect picture. The doorbell rang. I glanced at the clock - 7:55 - he was early! Claire gave a quick squirt of perfume down her cleavage and wrists, grabbed her handbag and with the briefest of kisses to me, trotted down the stairs. I stayed in our bedroom upstairs as she opened the door and heard Richard's deep voice exclaiming at how beautiful she was. She giggled girlishly and then the voices were cut off as the door banged shut. I went into the unlit spare bedroom and looked out carefully to see Richard holding open a taxi's rear door for her. She slid in, he hopped in the other side and they were gone. Silence. Loss. Jealousy. Loneliness. Arousal. I returned to the bedroom and after switching off the light, lay back in darkness and thought. Was Richard kissing her in the taxi already? Which bar were they going to? And which club? Would she let him grope her? Would she go somewhere private with him? As I lay there, I became aware that my penis was erect. FULLY erect, harder than it had been in years. This confused me. I had already admitted to myself that I found it exciting to watch my wife be approached by Richard and the other men of the office - somehow our secret made this act of voyeurism as I watched her get hit on day after day even more pleasurable, but I hadn't actually achieved a full erection for so long I had begun to doubt I ever would again. Was that why I had allowed Claire to "go have some fun"? There is a word I have heard before, "compersion". It means "An empathetic state of happiness and joy experienced when another individual experiences happiness and joy," This was what I was feeling. I loved my wife so much I wanted her to be happy, even if it was with another. Not forever of course, I didn't want to lose her - and actually Richard, being married himself, was a safer bet than most. He wouldn't want to get emotionally involved. I masturbated. The once familiar movements and feelings returning, my body opening like a flower to the rain after a long, long drought. A shuddering climax and helplessness. I cleaned myself up then watched some TV, always listening out for a car pulling up as I half watched the clock. 11.30 came and went. Then 12.30. Finally, at 1am I heard a car draw up outside and turned off the tv. A car door opened and there was female giggling and exaggerated shushing. I recognized Claire's voice. Things went quiet and I peeked out of the window being careful not to be seen. No risk - I could see down to our driveway that Richard and Claire were embracing against the side of the taxi, sharing a deep french kiss. Her hands, almost white in the moonlight, were clamped around his buttocks pulling his groin into hers. My penis was again erect as I watched my wife behave lewdly outside our marital home. A white blur in the taxi itself revealed the taxi driver was having himself a good look himself. Eventually they broke and she tottered up the driveway as Richard got back in the taxi and left. Claire was very drunk, but also very happy. She lent on the doorbell and I rushed down to let her in before she woke the neighbors. She fell into my arms across the threshold as I opened the door. "Hello love!" she slurred. I supported most of her weight as I closed the door and walked her slowly up the stairs. As we entered the bedroom she pushed herself away from me, dropped her handbag and fell face-first onto the bed. She mumbled into the pillow; "John, babe, baby... I've been a bad girl... Hic." I asked her softly, "How, what did you do?" "Water..." she mumbled. I went downstairs to fill a glass with water and by the time I got back to her, she was fast asleep and snoring loudly. Great. She was still dressed in the strappy top - it was a warm night and she hadn't taken a coat in the first place. I decided to undress her. Rolling her comatose body onto its back, I undid the bow around the neck and peeled down the top, lifting it over her breasts and out from under her. I smelled the dress - it smelled of her perfume, cigarette smoke a man's aftershave. I put it in the hamper and turned on the light. My wife was buck naked, save one earring and the pendant around her neck. Her g-string was gone and her pubic hair matted. There was a love-bite below her left ear and her breasts had quite clear marks where a hand had squeezed too hard. My wife had been unfaithful to me for the first time. With the evidence before me, I was again aroused. I pushed my trousers down and stuck my erect cock in her slimy cunt. For the first time in years, I had sex with my wife - although she was sleeping and oblivious... Three, four, five thrusts and my orgasm burst forth inside her - my sperm joining that of Richard, mingling in her uterus. After my breath returned, I slid off her and grabbing some wet tissue from the bathroom, wiped her down and cleaned her vagina as best I could. Turning her onto her side, I lovingly stroked her breast and then slid in behind her, spooning her softly snoring body, one hand cupping a tit, nipple between my finger and thumb. I fell asleep too, then - more content than I could remember being. The next morning I woke before her and woke her with a cup of coffee. She was clearly hungover. I watched as she winced, stretched and then horror crossed her face. Her eyes opened and she looked fully at me. "John...?" "It's okay, Claire. It's okay." "But - I think I may have gone too far with Richard last night!" "I know, but I forgive you. I think you had fun and you came home safely to me. That's all that matters. I know I haven't looked after some of your... needs, Claire, and I don't blame you for scratching an itch. I still love you." Claire promptly burst into tears and sat sobbing uncontrollable for a full minute, before pulling herself together enough to embrace me in a big warm hug. "Thank you" she said between sobs. Her warm, naked body was having an effect on me. She noticed that my penis was thickening and becoming harder. With a questioning look at me, she reached and gave it a soft squeeze as if not expecting it to be real. It was hard! With a hunger, she pushed me back and straddled me urgently, desperate to get me inside her whilst it lasted. She rode me hard, staring at me as if breaking eye contact would break the spell. She came hard, still watching me - enough to trigger my own orgasm, the second within her that morning but the first she knew of. We collapsed and spooned happily. All too soon, Monday arrived again. We performed our little charade and each went to work. Richard was late in, but when he did arrive he stopped off at our office first and bending to give Claire a kiss at her desk, he looked up at me and seeing my shocked expression, grinned and winked at me before going into his own room. When he was gone, Claire looked around at me with big eyes as if expecting me to explode - but I forced a smile and got a quick, relieved grin back from her. A short while later, Richard rung through and summoned me to his office, motioning me to close the door as I entered. I did so and sat before his desk. "John - sorry about this, but I simply have to tell someone and I trust you! I had an amazing night with your new assistant. Wow - she was unbelievable!" I swallowed and mumbled out a dry-sounding, "How so?" Richard continued, "I took her out to a bar and poured a few drinks in her - you know, to loosen her up, then we went dancing. Boy, that girl can move! And she was wearing a tiny little dress with no bra, so her tits were bouncing around. Honestly - if I looked as high as her eyes twice at that place I'd be amazed! And I wasn't the only one, every man there was wishing they were me. She was really into it - as if she was trying to dance away all her problems. "Well, after an hour of that, I was getting pretty turned on by her and requested some slow songs from the DJ. He wasn't keen, but after slipping him a few quid he obliged and we danced slowly. John, I had my hands all over her, inside her dress - she was letting me go wherever. I even had my fingers in her fanny at one point, right there on the dance floor! Well, I guess that was against the rules because half-way through a slow song, the DJ put on some faster music. So I asked if she'd like to step outside for some air and she practically dragged me out. We climbed over a park fence and I soon had my hands full of those luscious tits, sucking one and then the other. I pulled down the tiniest g-string you've ever seen - look!" Richard opened his desk drawer and waved the same white g-string I'd last seen on my wife in front of my face! "We fucked like rabbits right there on the park lawn, John. Shit, I've never come so much in my life!" She was dribbling all the way down the street after, and left a gooey mess on the taxi's seat when I dropped her home. Amazing, girl - you'd never guess she was so dirty from the way she behaves at work!" I gave Richard what I hoped was a congratulatory grin as he put the g-string back in his desk drawer and then returned to my office. I didn't tell Claire what he'd said as I passed her - she was deeply concentrating anyway. Just before lunch, Claire whispered to me that Richard had emailed her and asked her to lunch. Did I mind? Again, I smiled and gave my permission. Lunch is usually 1-2pm at this business. Richard didn't return with Claire until almost three o'clock. Her hair was disheveled and her bra had disappeared. Without it, her nipples were making soft bumps in the blouse she wore. Neither seemed to be too bothered about returning together in this way, and several heads turned as she walked between the offices with him. As she got closer, I saw her lipstick was smeared and that she had what looked like a grass stain on her knee. Claire gave me a strange look as she entered and I nodded politely with a small smile - playing the part of a distant yet mildly disapproving co-worker. That night, I asked about lunch. Claire candidly said that Richard had driven them back to the same park as before - only this time in daylight. There were several people around, mostly elderly with pushchairs so they had to be a little careful, but he'd found them a sheltered bench behind some bushes and she'd given him a blow-job as he sat back. Her eyes lit up as she explained that she'd only just finished when an elderly couple walked around the corner and Richard had had to pull his flies up really quickly! She says he made her remove her underwear and give it to him, and also unbutton her blouse so that the sides of her breasts were clearly visible. They walked together like that around the park, him telling her to slowly ease up her skirt as she walked. After a while, the skirt was level with the bottom of her buttocks and he made her sit next to him on one of the park benches with her legs apart, allowing anyone who looked the ability to see her vagina and pubic hair. I was shocked, but Claire was clearly still excited about this. I realized she had an exhibitionist and submissive streak that I'd never uncovered in all the years of our marriage. Richard found it on the third date. She came to me and squeezed my dick, but it had withdrawn to its usual flaccid self and she sighed, obviously disappointed. "Richard's taking me out again Friday night. Be a love and tidy the place while we're gone. I might bring him home, so make sure there aren't any signs of you - no photos, no personal things in the bedside table." I noticed she didn't ask this time, but I was still happy for her to enjoy herself and agreed. That evening, I watched her bathe and she asked me to shave her mound - explaining that Richard had asked her to. I gladly agreed, using my own razor and cream as she sat on the toilet after her bath. I was careful and slow and she was starting to get aroused, as was I. I let my finger slip between her labia which elicited a gasp and she looked down to the lump in my pants. "No, she said. None of that before my date!" and passed me the moisturizing cream. Again, I caressed her body and made the skin soft and supple, but she steered my hand away when I stroked her bald pussy a little too slowly. She had new clothes again - this time a very tight red dress that caused her boobs to push forwards and form a really deep cleavage. No knickers or bra, she explained. Again, Richard wanted her dressed like this. I was surprised as the hem of the lycra dress was right at the top of her thighs and unless she was very careful she would be giving an eyeful to lots of people! Richard collected her by taxi again. I peered around the corner at the top of the stairs to watch them passionately kissing, with his hand disappearing up her dress. It was obvious his fingers were moving around inside her as they stood on the doorstep. Again, my erection grew as I watched another man finger my wife. After they finally drove off, I masturbated as I re-lived what I had just seen. I was finding this aspect very thrilling. I wondered what to do when she returned home, if she did indeed bring him into our house. I looked around the bedroom. It's quite a large room with an en-suite toilet. I considered hiding in there, but figured she may want to use it. We do have a large fitted wardrobe though - and I resolved to hide myself in there when I heard their taxi draw up. Just after midnight, I heard a car door slam. I peeped out of the window to see Claire leading Richard up the driveway by his hand as a taxi pulled away. Then another car drew up behind it and four men I've not seen before got out. They followed the couple who were clearly expecting them. Claire let herself in - she wasn't as drunk tonight, but she was obviously happy and giggly with Richard. I listened from the bedroom to hear the stereo turned on, and clattering from the kitchen as glasses were discovered and the "clunk" from my liquor cabinet door as its contents were found. Clearly Claire had invited some friends back for a party. I stayed out of sight, listening around the corner at the top of the stairs until I heard somebody leave the living room and head upwards. I quickly scurried silently to my position in the wardrobe and closed the door. Through a grill in the door I saw the bedroom light snap on and Claire's voice softly call, "John?". I peeked out of the wardrobe. She was alone and walked towards me and gave me a big kiss. "Hi Babe. I hope you don't mind, but we bumped into a few of Richard's golfing buddies at the bar and I invited them back for a nightcap." I didn't say anything - this was a big change in our agreement and one that could turn risky. "I've just told them I was popping upstairs to slip into something comfier." she said, and gave me a big grin as she lifted the red dress upwards and over her head. She handed it to me and turned around and walked back downstairs, completely buck naked, to a room of five men. I heard a road of approval from downstairs as she entered the living room and I moved back to the top of the stairs, figuring I might not be noticed now. All eyes would be on my wife. Richard's voice cut through, "See boys? I told you she was hot! Who wants first go?" A clamor of voices and Richard had to shout over them. "Tell you what, get naked, sit down and I'll let the lady decide!" I'd rounded the corner now and could see all five men hurriedly undressing whilst my wife stood naked in the centre of the room, swaying softly to the music. When they were all undressed and sitting down on my sofa and chairs, Claire slowly walked around, touching each of the five erect penises in turn. "Eeny, meeny, miny... mo!" she exclaimed, and without hesitation lowered herself down onto one of the men - a balding, chubby man of about fifty. She rode him slowly up and down, but he didn't last very long. Turning red in the face, he went "Uff!" and seemed to deflate. Claire then climbed off him and onto the man to her left. This was a younger chap, about thirty with a big bushy beard. She bounced softly up and down on his dick whilst holding his face to her chest. I guessed she must like the tickle from his beard against her breast. He lasted longer, and when he was gone, she moved onto the third, then the fourth and then finally Richard. He gave her the most active fuck even though she must be by now quite loose and slimy. I found my hand encircling my own penis and tugging it in rhythm with their movements. Claire climaxed loudly with Richard - I could see from here he did have quite a big dick and she seemed to be enjoying it. One of the men had achieved another erection and seeing this, Richard lifted Claire off him and pushed her face-down over the man's penis. As she sucked obediently, he entered her from behind. He seemed to be having trouble entering her, and I realized with a shock that he was forcing himself into her anal cavity. She didn't react at all, just kept sucking away. Eventually Richard slid his tool into this dark crevice and slowly started pumping away. He smiled at his friends, explaining, "Fanny's loose now, let's visit Brown Town!" Sitting there at the top of the stairs in darkness, slowly pumping my cock, I was suddenly aware of how ridiculous this was. My wife was in my own house, being anally fucked by my boss whilst sucking off another man - while three other men watched. Four, if you counted me! All she'd asked was to go on a date or two, not turn into the town slut! I should have been outraged, I should have stormed down there and punched everyone out - including her. Stormed off and instructed my lawyer on divorce proceedings the next day. Instead, I crept back into the bedroom, got my phone and after making double-sure the sound and flash was turned off, silently returned to my place on the stairs and started filming the disgusting scene below me. Richard didn't last much longer, but no sooner had he ejaculated into my wife's rectum - a place I had never been in all our marriage - than one of the other men took his place. Then another, until all had fucked her anally or vaginally at least twice. None we wearing condoms, and despite the risk of disease, Claire was not using any contraception. For some reason, this excited me even more. By then, it was almost two in the morning, and the party was winding down. I scooted back to the bedroom and listened while the group of four left, happy and content with their night's debauchery. I wondered if they were returning to wives and girlfriends. Richard didn't leave, and I heard his soft voice below so returned to my watching post. Claire was curled up on the sofa while he was now dressed and on his phone. I heard him give his address and realized he was arranging a taxi to pick him up. He hung up and sat down on my sofa, cradling Claire's tired, blonde head in his lap. It was a touching scene and I watched him gently stroke her and murmur nice words as he patiently waited. The taxi didn't take long, but already Claire was softly asleep and he tenderly got up and tucked her in with a blanket as she slept, then turned off the lights and let himself out quietly. I softly padded down the stairs to the lounge and watched my used slut of a wife sleeping angelically. With the blanket tucked in, she looked strangely beautiful and innocent with the moon's light bathing her face. Gently I moved closer and the smell of sex invaded my nose, dispelling any pretence of a clean-living girl. I rolled back the blanket and lifted it clear, revealing her familiar shape to me once again. The darkness hid too many details, so I turned on the room lights and closed the curtains. I knew this room could be seen into from several houses across the street and I wondered if any of them had seen? Kneeling before her, I inspected my woman. Claire was covered in semen and bruises. Her new friends hadn't been gentle; there were bite marks on her breasts, buttocks, thighs as well as three love-bites around her thin neck - glowing red against her honeyed skin. Her pubic mound was matted with further globs of dried sperm on her thighs, stomach, breasts, neck, face and hair. As I watched, another glob oozed from her still gaping cunt and slid obscenely down her arse crack onto the sofa. Once so house-proud, she would have been angry had I allowed the sofa to get stained. I stood up to go and fetch some warm water and a flannel to clean her off but, half way to the door, stopped. A nasty, dirty, shameful thought crossed my mind. I turned it over for a moment or two and then returned to my knees in front of the sofa. Gently and without any rush, I started my task. Ensuring I cleaned her, I ascended her body. I spent a lot of time sucking pieces of her pubic hair clean, but didn't try to push her labia apart lest she wake. Avoiding her face for a moment, and only when I was satisfied, did I start licking her face. Eventually I reached her mouth and french-kissed her and slid my tongue inside to do a thorough job. It wasn't until her own tongue started moving back against mine that I realized her eyes were open and my wife was awake. I separated and smiled at her. "Hello, love." I said. "Hello, John," she murmured in return. "Was that nice?" I asked. "Mmmm... " was her reply, together with a cat-like stretch of pure sensuality. This was a woman who was totally satisfied. I pulled the blanket back over her and left her to sleep on the sofa. The following Monday, it was a fairly uneventful day at work. I had to go and visit a customer in the afternoon, and went directly home from there - arriving later than usual. When I entered my house, I immediately heard my wife's enthusiastic moaning from the upstairs bedroom. I froze. This was unlike any of the other times - I was completely unprepared. The moaning continued and increased, along with the unmistakable slapping sound of flesh on flesh. A man's voice now, "Oh, Baby. Oh darling." and a deep grunt as he came, I imagined deeply within my wife's unprotected womb. I realized he would probably be down soon, so I quickly let myself out of the door, pleased that I'd parked in the street again, and hid inside my garden shed. I crouched down and watched through the corner of the window and a few minutes later the front door opened and my neighbor from across the street came out. When the coast was clear, I went into the house to see Claire, already dressed, making herself some coffee. She smiled and kissed me, then prepared another cup. "I saw George leaving just as I got home," I said. "Oh," said Claire. "Yes, I've just let him fuck me." Matter of fact. No remorse. I must have looked a little comical as I gaped, as she laughed at my expression. "I got home a little early tonight, traffic was good. I heard a knock on the door and George was there. He showed me some photographs he took of me, uh, entertaining Richard's friends the other night, taken through the window - you know his house faces ours across the street? Turns out he's got a pretty good camera and lens, they were very clear. He said he was surprised that a respectable married woman would do something like this and said he would tell you about my affair and sluttish behavior unless, well, unless he was allowed to fuck me once a week." I was angry and it showed. I stood up and was ready to charge across the road and bash his door down - how dare he blackmail my wife? Claire stopped me and gently but firmly pushed me back down into my chair. "Love, it's nothing. I took him upstairs there and then and let him have a go. He wasn't that bad, actually, and it didn't take long. His cock is narrow but very long - an unusual feeling, ticklish. Anyway, I've agreed. It's kind of nice and won't interfere - I'll pop over to his house once a week, give him his jollies and our life will continue. I love this new me, John, I don't want to risk losing it. Even if he knows that you know about these things, he could still ruin the respect I have from my friends and parents if he were to spread those pictures around town. That would be awful." I accepted this and again, strangely, was turned on. I led her upstairs and told her to undress and tell me exactly what he'd done. She stripped off quickly, seeing the rare bulge in my pants. "First I lay on my back like this, with my legs spread." she demonstrated. "George got naked and stuck his dick in quite roughly." I flung off my clothes and did exactly as she had described, my penis now stiff, and started fucking her still greasy hole. After a few minutes, she said "Now he pulls it out and shoves it into my mouth." Again, I did as she described and felt her warm lips envelop my manhood, sucking and swirling as I held her blonde head tightly. As she felt me beginning to rise, she pushed me back and said "Then he ordered me onto my hands and knees and did me doggy-style until he came!" She assumed the position and I knelt behind her on the bed and shoved my cock in, grasping her swinging breasts as I did so. It took no more than five thrusts before my world exploded in stars and after kneeling rigid behind for several seconds, I gently collapsed alongside her on the bed. We lay there, sweat cooling. A few minutes passed and Claire softly spoke, "Looks like we've found a way to fix your problem..." I could hear her smile even though she was turned away from me. I murmured gently in agreement. Looks like we had. Life went on that way. Once a week, Claire would say "Doing the chores, back shortly" and pop across the road, or drop in for half an hour on the way home. George, who we already knew was an amateur photographer, took some shots of her in the nude for his collections, and some while he was fucking her. I wondered what they were like, and once even tried looking back across to his bedroom from our lounge while she was there, but the angles were wrong and I couldn't see anything. She carried on her affair with Richard. He had confided in me that his wife had started to be suspicious so had eased off the evening dates, but they still flirted and occasionally petted in the office. Richard trusted me completely and often told me of his relationship, including the sordid details. It was not hard to act interested and even pretend to be turned on when he described what sexual acts he and my secret wife had done. He thought she had a private investigator watching his movements, and my office was the only place he could have relative privacy with Claire. They kissed and cuddled at least once a day whilst I worked at my desk, pretending to ignore them, but each time feeling a swell in my pants as he groped my wife in front of me. But I could see both he and Claire were getting frustrated that was as far as it would go. One night, about 8pm, I got a call from Richard who asked me to visit his home. This was very unusual and I hopped into my car and drove across town. The lights were on and he opened the door as I arrived and I was ushered inside to the dining room where his wife was already sitting. It was clear she wasn't in a good mood. A 40 something brunette with sharp features and an even sharper expression. "John, thanks for coming," said Richard, taking a seat. "No problem Richard, what's the problem?" "John. I'm afraid we're having a bit of a disagreement, my wife and I, and I hope you can ease her concerns." "I'll try my best," I said and smiled at his wife. Julie, I recalled her name was. "You know we have a business trip next week, across country to see this new importer, Patterson?" I knew no such thing, but I felt Julie's eyes boring into my face. "Uh, yes - sure. What about it?" "My wife doesn't trust me. She thinks I'm up to no good!", Richard gave a smile - relieved at my answer, but ice was coming from across the table. He continued, "Can you please confirm that it's myself, you and your assistant who are going to France?" I played along. "Yep, it's been on the work calendar for about a month - my wife had no concerns when I told her." Julie's expression changed a little. Not sure whether to believe me. She spoke for the first time, "And who is this assistant?" I answered. "Her name is Claire and she works in my office." Julie's expression made it clear that wasn't helping, so I took a chance. "Claire told me she has a boyfriend and is very happy. They're planning a family together." Julie seemed a little reassured by that. Richard stood up, shook my hand and thanked me for my time and showed me out. At the door, he asked "That wasn't true, was it? You and Claire?" He was jealous! Amazing. My wife's lover was jealous that her husband might be going out with her! I held down a laugh and answered seriously, "No, of course not - I find her attractive, but I wouldn't tread on your toes, Richard." He smiled and thanked me again, and I drove home to Claire, explaining that it looked like we were all going on a trip next week. The next morning at work, as expected Richard entered our office and shut the door. "Thank you for last night, John." he said. He turned to Claire and after hugging her and kissing, he explained. "My wife is very suspicious Claire, but I cannot be without you much longer, I feel I am going to burst. So I invented a trip away to spend time with you. As soon as I told her I was going on a business trip, she exploded and accused me of all kinds of things. The only thing I could think of was to ask John to come to my house and lie for me, to tell her that us three were going on this trip to France to meet a supplier. She was still suspicious and I owe John a huge debt for thinking on his feet and telling her that he and you were, uh, romantically engaged." Richard gave a little laugh at this absurdity and Claire looked alarmed at me, worried that our secret was out. Richard saw this look but misunderstood. "Oh, don't look so startled, he only did it to protect me, but it would do no harm if you meet outside of work to show a little friendliness together in case her spies are watching." He gave my wife a kiss on her forehead, "Now - both of you, I've arranged a flight for Sunday afternoon. Meet me at the airport." The week passed quickly enough. Richard dropped in for five minutes once or twice a day, pretending to discuss finances with myself but instead embracing, kissing and fondling my wife in front of me. At night she was incredibly turned on, but my penis had again gone on strike. Apparently it was only interested if she had had sex with somebody else, and she grew frustrated. She masturbated every night but I could see her tension growing. She visited George across the street twice that week and stayed longer than usual - clearly this girl needed cock and needed it badly! On Sunday we packed. We were heading to the South of France, and all I knew of it was that it was quite warm, so I packed t-shirts and shorts. I watched my wife pack a selection of very thin and small dresses, some new lacy underwear and a very tiny bikini. We met Richard at the airport and he shook both our hands. He'd kept his flight arrangements at work and was reasonably confident that Julie didn't know which flight or where, but he was being careful whilst on home ground. The flight was the usual mix of boredom and expectation. Us three sat together with Claire in the middle. I watched his fingers stroke her thigh once or twice, below the hem of her summer dress, but he could do no more. Our destination was Nice and once through customs we grabbed a taxi and drove to our hotel. Richard had arranged two double rooms, joined with an interconnecting door - an arrangement often used by couples with a family. No sooner had we entered our rooms than Richard burst through the inner door, grabbed Claire by the wrist and with a squeal had dragged her into his room and the door banged shut. The walls were thin and I could hear every sound. They were frantic to have sex after such a period of forced abstinence and the bed springs started bouncing and the headboard was banging against the wall, inches from me. I lay back on the bed and masturbated as they made love. She calling his name, he hers, and snatches of "harder", "fuck me you bastard" and "faster, FASTER!" I shamefully ejaculated my seed on my belly as they noisily came together. I didn't see much of either of them that night, but woke several times to the sound of them fucking. Richard's plans hadn't given much thought to what I would do, but Claire came into my room the next morning to collect her bags and we arranged to meet downstairs for breakfast. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek as she did so and thanked me for allowing her some fun. It was strange, sitting outside under a sun umbrella in the morning cool, to watch two obviously happy and infatuated people walk towards me, hand in hand. Claire had a healthy glow and was wearing a short, thin and pleated skirt that reached her mid-thigh with a white string bikini covering her breasts. I saw a love-bite on her neck. We relaxed whilst drinking coffee and eating a continental breakfast. I dropped a napkin and, when reaching under the table to retrieve it, was shocked to see that not only was my wife not wearing anything under that little skirt, but that Richard's index finger was between her shaven labia, gently stroking up and down. I must have looked a little startled when I sat back up as my wife gave me a tiny, smug smile and gently bit her lower lip. She never looked sexier than right then. We spent the day around the pool. Claire, now wearing the bottoms of her swimsuit, dove into the pool and swam a couple of lengths to cool off. When she emerged, there was a gasp from several people lying on the loungers around us as her thin white bikini had become almost entirely transparent. Claire was oblivious - perhaps deliberately - as she walked back to us. Her nipples and aurials showed clearly and her vaginal lips were not only outlined, but on translucent display. Richard noticed my stares and proudly asked me, "She's something, ain't she?" I gulped and nodded. In the evening, the hotel had a pretty cheesy disco with a strong 80s theme. This time Claire wore a stretchy one-piece red dress without bra or panties. It was so thin that underwear would have been very obvious, and Richard danced well with her. I sat at the side and was approached by a lady who must have taken pity on me sitting alone. She sat down at my table and started chatting. Her name was Rita, she was here with some friends and was enjoying the sun. Rita was quite flirty, and not unattractive for someone I guessed to be late 40s, but despite my attempts to be polite, my eyes were constantly returning to Claire. Rita couldn't help but notice and was offended, "You like that little tramp? She's been flashing those tits and arse since she got here, but you stand no chance mate. Enjoy your night alone." and she was gone, back to her group of similar friends and told them about us. Laughing came from that corner and nobody else came over to be sociable. Richard and Claire left fairly early, and I stayed below and drank. I eventually went up to bed around midnight, a little bit drunk. As I entered my room I saw that the interconnecting door was ajar. I gave it no thought and stripped off and went to bed. I was woken to the familiar sounds of love-making, this time louder as the door was open. My dick was hard and I felt a need for a closer look. I walked, naked, across to the door and peered around to see my wife riding Richard. Unfortunately, Richard was looking in this direction as I peeped around and he saw me. "John!" he shouted. "Sorry, sorry!" I said and retreated. Shamefully I returned to my own bed and crawled in, embarrassed. I heard whispering from beyond, and then bed springs as somebody got off the bed. I closed my eyes, dreading a confrontation. "John?" said Richard's voice, close by. I opened my eyes to see him standing by my bed, wearing shorts. Was he going to hit me? Shout at me? Sack me? "John, Claire feels sorry for you, here all alone. She wants you to join us." I must have looked stunned. Richard continued, "Hey, it's okay. She's freaky as hell, you wouldn't be the first man I'd shared her with. And your own wife would never know." Claire appeared beside him, fully naked. She pulled back my bedsheets and straddled me, gently rubbing her shaved pubis against my penis. I felt it grow in response. Clearly my little man thought that being unfaithful to my wife, with my wife, as her lover who was being unfaithful to his own wife, watched - was a jolly good thing. He grew enough to slip inside her well-lubricated slit and familiar sensations grew. I was too quick to climax, over within a minute, shuddering in orgasm as she smiled and clenched those wonderful muscles to milk me dry. "Wow," said Richard. "That was hot as hell! Now, my turn - no, don't move a muscle, either of you!" Claire settled down on my groin with my shrinking penis still inside her. Richard returned from their room with a tube of lube and squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers, put his hand down and started rubbing it around and inside Claire's anus. She smiled smugly, her eyes closed, clearly reveling the sensation of her husband inside her as her lover prepared her forbidden hole for an onslaught. His hand went lower and gently massaged my balls with his sticky fingers for a moment. The bed shifted as Richard climbed on. He took position and gently eased his large dick inside her anus. I could feel his progress with my own cock, separated only by thin membranes and the shocking novelty caused my own member, so recently exhausted, to grow inside Claire alongside his. He kept the tempo slow, his penis doing all the work for the three of us. It was so strange to feel it rubbing almost against mine. All three of us orgasmed almost simultaneously. The rest of the brief holiday / business trip was spent fucking Claire alternately or together. I was amazed how continually eager she was for more, and one night Richard even invited the barman up to join us. A swarthy and well-tanned frenchman who fucked her as we both watched. As he left, he told us of a nudist beach not far away and the following day Richard, Claire and myself went there and sunbathed nude. The atmosphere was very relaxed and as Claire rubbed suntan oil over Richard's back, he turned over and she began oiling his prick. Unsurprisingly it was quickly erect and she mounted him without hesitation, riding him to orgasm right on the beach. Several men wondered over and almost formed a circle around them both, and one of the bolder ones reached down and felt her breasts, gently and first and meeting no resistence, pinched and pulled her nipples. She came very noisily and instantly every man wanted a handful. As she rode Richard, her head was turned to one side and a stubby French cock pushed into her mouth. She sucked him to completion, then another before Richard climaxed. She was lifted physically off Richard's wilting penis and onto another man's. Claire was passed from one to another and fucked by at least twelve different men of all shapes, sizes and even colors, all without condoms. I also fucked her as part of the crowd and it was clear she had no idea it was me or even what was really happenning, only that she was lost in a sea of sexuality. Eventually the crowd dispersed to reveal Claire's exhausted form. Semen was leaking from anus and vagina, she had sperm and sand stuck in her hair with bite marks on many places. We carried her into the sea and washed her off, then replaced her thin white bikini. We walked her back to the hotel and into our rooms, ignoring all the shocked looks of a woman in a bikini covered in dozens of human bites and love-bites. It didn't matter, she was fucked to insensibility and slept the entire afternoon. That was without doubt the best business trip any of us have been on. Unfortunately, whilst we were away, George - the pervy neighbour - had missed his rations and spitefully put up posters of Claire entertaining Richard and his friends that night all over town. Richard's wife, Julia, was shown them and divorced him. Richard had to sell up the business to provide the settlement. It was sold to a larger firm who already had accounting staff and both Claire and mysef were made redundant. I'd been there for many years so I got a reasonable settlement and a good reference and to avoid the unpleasant atmosphere of the town having seen those photos, we moved a long distance away and set up home again. We never saw Richard nor kept in contact. I got another job, and one afternoon when I returned home I went upstairs to see Claire looking at her naked body in the mirror. "Notice anything?" she said, smiling? I did notice her belly was a little rounder than usual. "You're not...?" I asked? "Yep," answered Claire with some satisfaction. "I've known for some time." "Um, do you know when you, er, conceived?" "Maybe 'Where' would be the better question, John. The dates definitely match our visit to France." So that's the story of how my wife got pregnant. She's at six months now. I've no idea if it's mine, Richard's, the barman's or any of those men at the beach. It might be white and blonde like us, it might be white with dark hair like Richard, it could even be half meditteranean or even half-black. I guess we'll find out soon. The End.