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Penny's Promiscuity - 39 to 40 - Return to Eden

"Troubled, pregnant, insatiable wife needs some serious professional assistance"

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Chapter Thirty-nine

A feeling of relief washed over me as the car carrying my husband Pete and our daughter Isobel passed through the gates and out onto the road, leaving me alone in the house. In a few hours’ time she would be installed in the city flat that she would share with her University friends for the next academic year and would be out of my hair until December.

After the last week, that was something devoutly to be wished.

Deprived of the presence of the new boy in her life, her bed and her body, Izzy’s behaviour had been every bit as intolerable as I had feared. Reverting to her previous short-tempered, judgemental, selfish side, she and I had argued almost every day.

As she explained, as if the idea of having a pregnant fifty-one-year-old mother wasn’t embarrassing enough, having to watch the bump that would shortly be her new sister growing larger every day was more than she could take in silence. The words weird, disgusting and unnatural had been added to her already unpleasant vocabulary, as well as the normal teenage revulsion at the idea of her ancient parents ever having had sex at all.

Given Izzy was now in her twenties, I had hoped for a more mature, more tolerant attitude but this was not to be.

More than once, I thought how happily I would have swapped the embarrassment of having to hear my daughter’s overloud orgasmic cries for the anger I felt hearing her cruel, judgemental outbursts.

By December, her new half-sister would have been born! God alone knew how Izzy would behave then.

And I didn’t dare even think about how she would react if she ever found out that she and her new sister did not share the same father; that the new arrival would be, as my mother would have said, a lovechild.

The only positive was that all this tension in the house had distracted me from the terrible desire that had been growing strong and stronger ever since Izzy and Jack had got together; the infinitely inadvisable but increasingly compelling idea of letting his father Tony back into my bed and into my life.

I had to keep my wits about me; though suppressed during the day, the idea kept catching me unawares during the many broken nights my increasingly swollen belly was inducing. The arousal that followed was powerful, impossible to ignore and was growing steadily in intensity.

Still, away Izzy had now gone. When Pete returned, he and I could spend the next ten or so weeks as a couple before, for the fourth time in our lives, Armageddon descended upon us in the form of a new-born baby.

As far as that part of the process was going, nature was being her perverse self once again. My fourth and most unlikely pregnancy was going more smoothly than any of my previous ones. There was no denying that my belly was bigger than before – much bigger - but my blood pressure was normal, my heartbeat fine, my ankles were their usual size, my back ache was tolerable and despite the warm weather, my clothes were still acceptably comfortable.

Though I never voiced the thought out loud, it was almost as if I had been born to bear Darren’s children.

With all three of my previous pregnancies and with Izzy in particular, all of these had been problems. She had been a tricky child even before birth and had been challenging throughout her life. But at least now she had returned to University, Pete and I had time for ourselves.

The first week of freedom from her judgemental attitude passed quickly and pleasantly.

By now, the scandal of a fifty-one-year-old Senior Scientist being pregnant had been replaced by other, more salacious rumours, not involving either Pete or me. This relieved the pressure considerably. My very obvious condition was no longer novelty at work which helped too. Though still a puzzle, fewer people stared at me in the corridors these days and Pete’s positive attitude towards the prospect of being a father again had helped dispel any remaining rumours about the unlikelihood of his vasectomy having spontaneously reversed.

Though many of our friends were no doubt suspicious, they kept those suspicions to themselves and life was carrying on as normally as it would for any expectant mother.

Well nearly normal; my libido was still extremely high, as the persistent tired look on my husband’s handsome face testified.

“Jesus Penn!” Pete gasped as he fell onto the sheet alongside me on Sunday night. “You’re insatiable!”

He was quite literally right. I was insatiable; it had been some time since any form of sex with my husband had come even close to satisfying me. Even Pete’s considerable oral skills had failed to deliver the orgasms I so desperately needed.

I had started to wonder whether being pregnant in my fifties had done so much damage that I might never climax again.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, closing my thighs and feeling the tingle of my swollen lips as they were pressed together. “It’s me; I’ve gone a bit crazy, I know.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Pete replied, stroking my belly with his fingertips and licking his lips. He nodded towards my groin. “Shall I try again?”

“Thanks, but I’m too sore now,” I lied. “Maybe I’ll use one of my toys tomorrow.”

There was a long pause.

“You called out his name again,” Pete eventually said quietly.

“Whose name?”

“Tony’s.”

“Sorry, Pete.”

“It’s okay,” he sighed. “If it helps you cum, you call out whatever you need to.”

“It doesn’t upset you anymore?”

“Not as much as it did,” Pete dismissed the idea unconvincingly. “They say you never forget your first. I suppose that applies to first infidelities as well as first fucks.”

There was another long pause. I could feel my husband’s semen oozing out of my rather capacious vagina.

“It’s not as if you’re going to leave me for him now, is it?” he eventually said.

“That’s certainly true,” I smiled wryly.

“But you did come close,” he added. “And not so long ago.”

That was also undeniable. It had been the prospect of me wanting to leave Pete and move in with Tony less than a year ago that had frightened my lover into dumping me and showing me how shallow and unreliable he really was. I had come closer to losing my husband and family than I ever wanted to come again.

“Is he really that good in bed?” Pete asked.

It was the first time in many months that he had asked anything about that difficult time in our lives.

“I’ve had better,” I replied, trying to lighten the situation.

“And younger,” Pete smiled, stroking my bump again. “But none of them was your first. There must have been something special about him that made you decide to cheat after so many years.

“Your telling me it would be okay if I slept with other men did have some effect on my decision,” I reminded him.

“I accept I said that, but you chose Tony rather than anyone else.”

Pete was clearly not going to be put off this line of questioning easily.

“It was more a case of him choosing me,” I told him honestly. “It’s not an excuse, but he’s very persuasive and once he’s got you in his sights, he doesn’t take prisoners.”

“So I’ve heard, Pete replied. “That might explain the first time, but you were together for months. You’d been fucking him for four weeks before you even let me know it had started. There must have been something special between you.”

“We’ve been through this before, Pete,” I protested.

“I know. But this whole Izzy and Jack business has set it all off again in my mind.”

“In mine too,” I agreed.

“So what was it?”

“It’s hard to say,” I said, uncertainly. “I was flattered; he’s very attractive and I’ve always enjoyed his company.”

“That was obvious,” Pete interjected.

“And it sort of took us both by surprise,” I continued. “He gave me his usual Goodbye Grope…”

Pete snorted. Tony was known for his over-enthusiastic kissing of friends’ wives.

“But this time he just kept going. Before either of us realised it was happening, I was on my back with his cock inside me. Neither of us planned it.”

“And it was so good you started an affair?”

“It was good enough to do it again,” I confessed. “The affair just sort of happened on its own. Please can we talk about something else?”

I could feel myself becoming aroused by the memories of that first fall from fidelity. Given the last few weeks, the last thing I needed was another reason to remember Tony and how he had made me feel.

“So, what do you want to do about it now?” Pete asked.

“What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely puzzled. “Do you think I want to see him again? Is that what all this is about?”

“Maybe,” Pete sighed again. “It’s made me feel a bit insecure I suppose. Perhaps you do still have feelings for him even if you don’t realise it.”

“Pete I would never…” I protested.

“Never say never, Penn. Right now, your hormones are going haywire,” he continued. “You don’t know how you really feel or what you really want. That’ll change after she’s born of course but…”

“Please believe me Pete. I wouldn’t ever…”

“You mean that now, but right now, you’re not in full control of your emotions and desires. You need distracting and that’s obviously more than I can provide on my own.” He sighed again and there was a long pause as if he was making up his mind.

“That’s why I cancelled this weekend with Mum and Dad and booked a date in Manchester.”

Pete’s words caught me completely by surprise. I sat up abruptly.

“What?”

“I’ve done what I promised and booked Adam and Eve again. On Saturday night.”

“Oh my God!”

“I knew you’d be pleased.”

“Saturday? This coming Saturday?”

“This coming Saturday.”

“And you didn’t think to ask me?”

He gave me an old-fashioned look.

“After the way you’ve been behaving - in bed and out – I didn’t need to.”

“But…”

“Don’t you dare pretend you’re not turned on by the idea, Penny Barker!”

I sat there stunned.

“I know you need it and you know you need it. We know them a lot better now and I’ve booked them all night if necessary. They know what you like to do - and what I like to see.”

“Pete I…”

“Forget all the faking you’ve been doing.” I glared at him, but he looked straight back into my eyes. “I’m not stupid Penn. I can tell when you’re faking it and that’s all I’ve seen in weeks. Saturday’s going to be the real thing.”

He grinned from ear to ear and I could see his cock had become erect again.

“You’re going to cum so hard and so often you’ll beg them to give you a break. And I’ll be there to see it all happen!”

I stared at his, stunned before he added.

“Maybe then I’ll be able to get some sleep at nights.”

Pete rolled onto his side and closed his eyes.

***

The rest of the week simply crawled by, my mind full of both excitement and apprehension.

The excitement was obvious; for a woman with my doubtful past, the prospect of a night of the highest quality, no-strings sex with a very attractive man had a profound, almost primeval appeal.

The apprehension was perhaps less obvious. I had cheated on my husband often enough not to be phased by the morality of doing it again, especially as he so obviously wanted it to happen. But it had been many weeks since anyone but my husband had even seen my swollen, naked body, let alone thrust an erect cock into my vagina.

In my vulnerable physical and emotional state, I couldn’t avoid feeling self-conscious about my pregnant body and worrying how Pete would feel seeing his swollen wife in the undignified positions that would inevitably take place in any encounter with our professional friends.

Might he realise what I had done? To him and to our marriage? Might he fall out of love with me?

Pete of course gave me no tangible reasons for these fears. Treating me like a princess all week, he made his own excitement clear and if anything, seemed even deeper in love with me than before.

Work was little help. With only a few weeks to go before my due date, I had already put most of my projects either to bed or into the hands of one of my students, so there was little constructive I could do in the hospital to distract me.

I was tired too, so only worked there half of each day, the rest from my home office. Given this was literally in the room next to the place my first seduction and infidelity had taken place a year ago, there was no way I could possibly keep that event from my memory.

That of course brought Tony, my first seducer to mind far more frequently than was good for my peace of mind, my sanity or my marriage.

Every time I entered the lounge, images and sensations flooded back; the thrill of being wanted; being desired, being seduced. His handsome face merely inches above mine…

And of the incredible feeling in my loins that first time his short, ultra-thick cock had forced its way into my over-sized vagina, the first time since my marriage any cock other than my husband’s had been within me.

And those orgasms… Oh my God, those orgasms!

Despite all my efforts at cleaning, the tell-tale stain on the sofa that my first infidelity had produced, could still be seen if I looked hard enough.

Listening to my daughter on the phone, tearfully lamenting how terrible it was to be separated from Tony’s son Jack, the new and apparently most profound love she could ever have in her life, made things even worse.

And with the thought of Saturday always somewhere in my mind, thank God for old friends when you need them.

***

“What do you think? Can you taste the difference?” Julie asked excitedly.

It was Thursday afternoon and we were sipping our second coffees in the local branch of a national chain. It wasn’t what I would have chosen but Julie, my best friend and soon-to-be-ex-wife of that first lover Tony, was something of a coffee connoisseur and had been extolling the virtues of their newest blend.

To me it was just coffee, but my taste buds were unreliable these days thanks to my erratic hormones, so I simply smiled.

“Wonderful. Now, where were we?”

At my insistence, baby talk had been banned from the conversation. I knew it would eventually be inevitable but for the last hour or so we had chatted about everything else; work, politics, holidays, scandal amongst our friends.

The latter was a relief, reassuring me that the gossip had at least temporarily moved on from my unexpected and unlikely pregnancy to other matters.

In that respect I am as hypocritical as the next girl; hating to think that my own private life was being discussed by strangers but quite happy to gossip about the lives of others. As usual, Julie was a good source of lurid speculation in which we indulged shamelessly.

From there we had briefly talked about my imminent transition into motherhood for the fourth time, and from there rapidly into my impending first Grand-motherhood. That of course led to the inevitable subject of the highly physical romance that had started between her younger son and my only daughter.

The loved-up couple had spent nights in both our houses so I had to assume Julie had heard their noisy, passionate copulations just as clearly as I had – though whether they had had the same physical effect on her distinctly unpregnant, petite, china-doll-pretty body was doubtful.

“How is he handling his first weeks at Uni?” I asked.

Jack had been away for a full week longer than Isobel.

“He’s pining,” Julie replied. “As you’d expect. He’s never had a proper relationship like this before.”

From what I had heard, inexperience wasn’t cramping his style too badly.

“Izzy’s being impossible too,” I sighed. “I just hope she’s getting some work done.”

Julie laughed.

“Have you come to terms with it yet?”

She didn’t have to explain; the new relationship was making us both feel uncomfortable.

“Maybe,” I replied. “I’m not sure but I’m trying not to let it show.”

I couldn’t tell Julie that the biggest problem was the vivid memories were of being fucked half senseless by her soon-to-be-ex-husband.

I certainly wasn’t going to let her know that thinking of her one-night stand with my very much not-ex-husband could make me feel almost unbearably jealous and insecure even now.

“How is your love life going?” I asked as brightly as I could manage.

“Oh, you know...” she replied ambiguously.

“Anyone serious in your sights?"

“I’ve got a few irons in the fire,” she said even more vaguely.

“But your needs are being seen to?” I whispered.

She smiled an embarrassed, shy smile which was quite uncharacteristic of her. This could only mean that whoever she was seeing, the sex was very good and that it was someone she thought I knew.

“Maybe!”

I grinned, knowing when to give up probing and leaned back in my seat, my hands on my rounded belly. Julie stared openly at the cotton-covered bump.

“I still can’t believe you’re really going to have a baby,” she said wide-eyed, adding. “At our age.”

“Well the evidence is right in front of you,” I smiled ruefully, rubbing my palms over my bulge.

“How are you coping now? Pete says it’s not as bad as you expected.”

“I’m pleasantly surprised,” I told her. “It’s as if I was born to… as if it was my first all over again.”

I was so shocked at having been close to telling my friend that carrying Darren’s child had been easier than any of Pete’s that I almost didn’t notice what she had said.

“You met Pete?” I asked casually when the realisation hit me.

Was that a look of shock or fear on her face?

“We… we bumped into each other in town,” she replied casually. “Didn’t he mention it?”

I shook my head.

“It was only for a moment,” she continued awkwardly. “I’m pleased to hear he’s right,” she carried on quite naturally. “He sounded ready to be a Dad again anyway.”

“He is, thank God!” I smiled, though slightly unnerved. “And I’m definitely ready to get back to a normal size again.”

“How long to go now?” Julie asked.

“Seven, eight weeks maybe,” I replied. “But I wasn’t within a week of my due date with any of the kids.”

That much was certainly true. Of my three previous births, one had been a week late, the others two or more weeks early so I had no expectation of hitting the date in early December I had been given.

“Rather you than me,” Julie smiled wryly. “Thank goodness I’m past that danger.”

I smiled back.

The next half hour was spent in very pleasant recollections of our kids when they had been tiny and the things they and we had done before Julie said her farewells and went on her way.

It was noticeable that neither of us made any further reference to either of our husbands.

 

Chapter Forty

After a troubled Friday and a broken Friday night, we drove up to Manchester on Saturday morning, checked into our luxurious hotel then had lunch it its casual café-bar. The journey was smooth and uneventful; I had dozed most of the way, my night-time sleep badly impeded by an inability to find a position in which my oversized belly was comfortable.

At least it kept my nerves within manageable limits.

After lunch, we visited one of the major museums the city has to offer. It was more Pete’s kind of thing; Imperial War with lots of videos but there was enough history for me to enjoy along the way. But enjoyable though it was, it was nowhere near enough to distract me from the fears and anxieties of the evening’s planned entertainment.

Okay, I had met our soon-to-be-lovers before, had been fucked silly by Adam both in my vagina and rectum and had been transported to a new level of sexual delight, but that had been months ago when my pregnancy was relatively new and when I was clothed, hardly noticeable.

Now, seven months gone, things were very different. My belly was enormous, completely unmistakeable and although I was still fit and healthy, I had definitely put on a few pounds and was waddling like a heavily pregnant woman in a nineteen-sixties comedy.

The one positive effect was that my previously almost non-existent boobs had grown to the extent that they would actually move on my chest if I did not wear a bra of some kind. They were still tiny by most women’s standards, but the change did make me feel much more feminine.

The afternoon’s activities had made me tired, so I spent a good hour dozing on one of the room’s large double beds before Pete and I had an early dinner in the restaurant.

Pete joked that it was probably the only time I would sleep in that bed before breakfast.

After dinner we had a glass of champagne in the room – the only alcohol I was going to allow myself all weekend. Then I had a long, relaxing bath, taking great care to deal thoroughly with all the body hair I could find. This careful preparation helped calm some of the millions of butterflies that had decided to nest in my tummy.

As Pete sat on the edge of the bath watching me shave, I could see apprehension on his face as well as arousal between his thighs. In a strange way, seeing his anxiety had a calming effect on my own.

The night was clearly going to be a nerve-wracking experience for us both.

“How do you feel?” he asked when I had washed the conditioner from my hair.

It was a silly question and we both knew it but what else could he have said?

“Nervous. Excited.” I replied.

“Horny?”

“Not yet, but I’m sure that will come soon,” I smiled, raising my freshly-shaved body from the water.

Pete handed me one of the room’s luxuriously soft while bath towels and I patted myself down before applying body lotion and other unguents to the most important areas of my exposed flesh – especially the tightly-stretched skin covering my tummy.

“Even my stretch marks have stretch marks,” I sighed.

“I don’t care,” Pete replied. “And I’m sure Adam won’t care either. I think he was rather fascinated by you.”

Though Pete didn’t know for certain, Adam had indeed been intrigued by me. Perhaps more familiar with women’s bellies that most men, he had spotted my pregnancy in its early stages and had confessed with some excitement that I was his first pregnant client.

At least, I thought, the first client that was pregnant at the beginning of the evening. I smiled inwardly as I wondered whether any women had unknowingly left in that condition as well as satisfied.

“Don’t be silly,” I blushed, pulling the black hold-up stockings that I had previously thought only suitable for sluts but which I now looked forward to wearing.

Reaching over to the bed for my black lace panties, my thighs opened automatically, revealing my recent handiwork between.

“I like it when you shave down there,” Pete said quietly. “At least, I like it when I know why you’re doing it and what for.”

I smiled back.

“It excites me too,” I confessed. “I could keep myself bare all the time if you wanted?”

“Let’s save it for special occasions,” he grinned. “Like tonight.”

We dressed in near silence, both feeling increasingly anxious as the hands on the bedside clock gradually moved towards the magic hour of nine o’clock. Once dressed, Pete passed me my clothes and jewellery item by item as I requested, his hands trembling as he fastened the gold pendant behind my neck.

“Are you ready?” he asked once I had surveyed myself in the full-length wall mirror, seeing the albeit well-dressed reflection of a tired, distinctly middle-aged woman with an enormous, bulging belly.

“Ready as I ever will be,” I replied, my heart thumping.

“Then let’s go!”

As we descended to the bar in the lift, I couldn’t help giving both of us a long hard looking over in its unflattering, floor-to-ceiling mirrors.

It’s in a woman’s nature to be overly self-critical, but I have to say that by the time we reached the ground floor, a good deal of my previous shaky confidence had evaporated.

Although my short, carefully-chosen maternity dress followed my shape perfectly, the legs it displayed rather too much of, looked bony rather than shapely and definitely belonged to a woman in her fifties.

Although my recently-darkened, shoulder length hair still had its hormone-induced sheen and my skin still glowed, my face showed much of the tiredness and anxiety I felt inside.

Pete on the other hand seemed to have grown ten years younger. In his chinos and tailored shirt, he looked confident, fit and strong, and to my eye, simply in a different class to the older, pregnant woman on his arm.

The fact that he couldn’t keep his sparkling eyes off my body went some way to reassure me, but as the lift doors opened and I stepped out into the busy bar, I was not feeling either my most confident, most sexy or most desirable.

Pete had promised me that there was to be a surprise that night. In the end there were many surprises but the first was that when we arrived at the secluded corner table where our friends were already installed, Pete melted away. Eve followed him immediately after kissing me hello, so her husband and I spent the next half hour as if we were simply a couple on a date.

I have to say it was a very pleasant experience.

“It’s great to see you again Alice,” he said, kissing me lightly on the lips. “You look simply amazing.”

For a second, I wondered who Alice was then remembered that when we had first met, in my haste to give him a false name, I had chosen the central character of one of my stories.

That night I had been Alice so tonight I must be Alice again.

Whatever his education and manual day job might be, Adam was an expert at making a girl feel special. The fact that we already knew each other very intimately was a great help, but after only a few minutes in his company we were flirting, chatting and touching each other’s hands and arms in a relaxed way I would have thought impossible only half an hour before.

Adam asked bright, genuine questions about me rather than simply talking about himself. But more than that, he actually listened to my answers, as if he viewed me as a new and interesting friend to be discovered and enjoyed rather than a captive audience or a lucrative client.

Any girl reading this will immediately know what I mean.

Okay, we didn’t have the same educational background or come from the same income tier, but it didn’t matter. I’m sure his strong Manchester accent would have grated after a few days too, but for an evening’s companion, he would have been a delight even if we hadn’t been paying and sex wasn’t to be the main event.

He seemed genuinely excited and delighted by my advanced state of pregnancy, his eyes constantly moving from my face to my bulge and back, pausing on route to admire my enlarged bust. As we talked, his hand followed his eyes, touching my upper thighs and the lower part of my belly under the table.

His touch sent shivers through me and almost erased the feelings of doubt I had suffered in the lift.

Almost.

After half an hour, Eve and Pete still hadn’t returned and the bar was so busy our conversation would be inaudible to anyone sitting more than a few inches away. Adam clearly deemed it safe to move on to matters more overtly sexual.

In a few short sentences, looking me directly in the eye and with his hand firmly on my upper thigh, he began to tell me in a casual voice and in the middle of the crowded bar, exactly what he planned to do with me in the bedroom very shortly.

The butterflies returned to my tummy with a vengeance and, despite being in full public view, I felt myself lubricating rather more freely than my too-short dress could safely have concealed for long.

I’m sure he could easily have talked me into bed even if we hadn’t set it up in advance. Adam’s hand on my thigh worked in partnership with his low, sexy voice, raising my arousal to a level that was positively dangerous for a woman in my condition.

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I can’t remember which of us led the other towards the lift a short while later, but I do know that all my resistance had melted away along with most of my inhibitions.

When Pete and Eve casually joined us at the lift door, I was visibly tingling with desire. I hardly noticed the sexually charged body language that seemed to have developed between my husband and his highly attractive companion.

“You two getting along alright?” Eve asked her husband, taking charge as she had done throughout our previous date.

“She’s warming up nicely,” he replied, snaking his arm around my waist.

“A treat for you tonight then,” his wife grinned then added. “He’s been practicing seduction ever since your lovely husband called.”

She slipped her own arm through Pete’s and moved close to him. He looked more than a little awkward.

“I hope you enjoy yourself too, Peter. You deserve a treat too, being a Dad again so soon.” Eve’s purred in her smooth, sexy voice.

For a moment I was horrified she had used his real name but then remembered it had slipped out during our last date. I felt Adam’s hand squeezing mine and remembered that the fact that my baby was not my husband’s had also slipped out.

For a moment it dawned on me that these two people already knew more of our deepest secrets than anyone else we knew. More than that, Adam had done more extreme and pleasurable things to my body than anyone had ever done. But far from worrying me, the knowledge of my vulnerability merely aroused me even more.

Then the lift stopped, the doors slid open and two couples, mismatched in age but with sexual sparkles no observer could have missed, walked and waddled down the deserted corridor and entered the large bedroom.

***

I do not propose to detail all that took place behind the closed door that night, though there would be much to tell. But as soon as we reached the bedroom, were all inside and the door locked, Eve took control as she had before.

“Strip her Pete. Get your wife ready to be fucked.”

Pete looked shocked, then oddly pleased. He came close, my knees trembled as did my husband’s hands as he slowly peeled the close-fitting dress from my body.

“Bra and panties too,” Eve commanded.

Pete unfastened the rear claps of my bra. It fell forwards into my hands. He took it from me then dropped to his knees and slowly lowered my black lacy panties to the floor, exposing my freshly-shaved, still-pink vulva beneath my large rounded belly and leaving me only in hold-ups and heels.

“She looks a real slut like that, doesn’t she?” Eve grinned.

Pete had risen to his feet and was staring at me.

“What does your wife look like, Pete?”

His eyes still fixed on my crotch and boobs, Pete spoke like a man in a dream.

“A slut! She looks like a slut.”

“And what do sluts like best, Pete?”

“Being… being fucked?” his voice was as much a question as a statement.

“That’s right. Being fucked. How does your wife like to be fucked, Pete?”

“Hard. She likes it hard.”

“How hard?”

“Very hard. Until she cums.”

“Can you fuck her so hard she cums?”

He shook his head slowly.

“Then give her to a man who can, Pete,” Eve commanded. “Give her to the man who’s going to make her cum so hard she begs him to stop.”

My husband looked everywhere other than into my eyes as he led me the short distance to where Adam was standing, already undressed. His cock was large, dark and semi-erect. He took my hand.

“Tell him what you want, Pete,” Eve’s voice was hard and unforgiving. “Say what you want him to do to your wife.”

The bulge in Pete’s trousers was large and unmistakeable, his hands still trembling with arousal. My own tummy was a mass of butterflies and I could feel myself lubricating freely.

“Fuck her!” Pete said quietly. “I want you to fuck her.”

“Can’t hear you Peter!”

“I said fuck her! I want you to fuck my wife!” His voice was much louder now and had the harsh, passion-filled growl that I had heard the last time we had been with our new friends.

He turned to look me in the eye, his words hard and cruel.

“I want you to fuck my wife until she cums so hard she can’t even walk!”

There was a pause. Adam’s hand tightened on mine as his wife spoke triumphantly.

“There! That felt good didn’t it? Well done Peter. Leave them together she’s his now, she’s not yours anymore.”

Pete stepped back obediently, his expression somewhere between fear, love and lust.

“Now come here and enjoy the show.”

For the next hour or more, Eve and her handsome husband took Pete and me on a sexual journey that will remain in my mind forever.

I remember standing near-naked, watching Eve and Pete quickly disrobe, then being pressed to my knees alongside Eve as the two men moved in front of us.

Then the two of us delivered blowjobs to our respective temporary partners; Eve’s mouth on Pete’s cock, mine on Adam’s. In my case the oral sex performed was clumsy and amateur, but I could tell that the effect Eve’s mouth and tongue were having on my husband’s loins was profound. His loud sighs and deep moans were all the evidence I needed; it had been many years since my own attentions had produced anything like them.

After a long time with Adam’s hardening cock in our mouths, we were moved to the beds. Adam lay me on my back, opening my thighs wide then, his head all but concealed by my bulging belly, delivered some of the loveliest, longest-lasting oral sex I could remember, even from Pete.

As a long, slow, body-shaking climax rippled through me, a surprised, delighted moan came from the bed alongside. I looked across to see my husband’s head buried as deep between Eve’s thighs as Adam’s was between mine and for a moment felt proud; my husband’s cunnilingual skills were clearly considerable.

Then Adam’s tongue found the underside of my clitoris and all other thoughts became impossible. As Adam’s lips and tongue worked their unseen magic on my vulva, I lost all track of time. Climax followed climax, shaking both me and the bedsprings.

Eventually I became aware that Adam’s face was no longer between my thighs. I was about to protest when to my amazement, it was replaced by Eve’s who went to work on me immediately, giving me no time to gather my feelings; still less to object.

The climax that hit me then was far more intense, noisy and body-convulsing.

It was only the first such climax I was to enjoy or endure that evening.

Judging my helpless condition to perfection, Eve abandoned my slit then lay back on the bed and guided my pink flushed face and dazed brain towards her own most private place. Then, as both our husbands watched closely, I remember giving her oral sex in return.

It was clumsy and inexpert; the first time my lips had touched a woman’s vulva since my first tentative explorations with a close friend at school so many years ago. I had never shared this secret with anyone, let alone my husband, but as my mouth filled with Eve’s pungent vaginal juices, memories of that teenage sleepover flooded back into my mind.

In those days we barely knew that our clitorises existed, let alone what they did or how amazing they could make us feel. Forty years on, I knew about both, but as I searched with my lips and tongue for Eve’s hard nub amidst the fleshy folds of her vulva, I couldn’t help feeling guilty for being so impatient with men and boys who in the past had struggled to find my own.

Although my efforts apparently yielded good results – Eve moaned and grabbed my hair and her juices flowed freely - I suspected her of faking at least some of her orgasms. Faking orgasms is something at which my own expertise was undeniable, and I recognised a fellow performer when I saw one.

When she had apparently had enough, she raised my head from between her thighs and sat me on the bed, my tummy bulging over my thighs, my chin covered in her vaginal excretions. I was panting, as stunned and aroused as I could ever remember being, and having broken yet another taboo, in no condition to refuse anything any of my three partners wanted to do with me.

Fortunately, I was in safe hands.

“It’s time to fuck her now,” Eve announced confidently. “Is that right Pete?”

I looked up at my handsome husband. He was looking at me with an expression something close to adoration on his face. Our eyes met and he nodded slowly.

“Was that a ‘Yes’, Pete?”

“Y… yes,” he mumbled, still unable to break our gaze.

“Can’t hear you,” Eve taunted. “It’s time your little pregnant wifey was fucked hard, isn’t it? Then you can fuck the life out of me! I’m not going home without it tonight, cuckold!”

The hard words were clearly as much a shock for Pete as they were for me. He smiled ruefully, raising his eyebrows in silent question. I looked back, my head spinning, then took a deep breath… and nodded.

“Fuck her!” Pete immediately said, loudly and clearly.

“What was that, Pete?” Eve asked with a leer.

“Fuck her!” he repeated. “Fuck her noq! Fuck her cheating cunt within an inch of its life.”

Then Adam did what Adam had been asked to do and did it as well as Adam could do it.

In the large, king-sized bed alongside my husband and his wife, that extraordinary man simply and comprehensively fucked the living daylights out of my swollen, middle-aged body.

And I absolutely, completely and utterly loved it!

Though he was forceful, he was still sensitive, gentle yet irresistible, energetic and imaginative, paying close and vigorous attention – if you will excuse the crudeness - to all three of my orifices.

On that subject, I can say without fear of contradiction that Eve was right – some things do get easier and feel better with practice!

Taking his time and with infinite, intimate attention, Adam worked patiently and understandingly, to bring me extraordinary pleasure, filling my mouth until I thought I would choke, plundering my vagina mercilessly, exploiting my newly-discovered love of anal sex to the full until after less than half an hour, the ‘breeding frenzy’ had returned with a vengeance.

And all done with the greatest care taken to protect my belly and its unborn contents.

Much of what happened is merely an orgasm-induced blur as climax after climax struck without relief or mercy.

At one point, as I lay on my back, Adam’s body thundering wildly into mine with my legs lifted painfully above his shoulders, I heard myself begging him to knock me up, to make a baby in me and, at the time, I really meant it.

God alone knows how my poor husband on the bed alongside must have felt watching me, his wife of twenty-plus years screaming all this to another man right in front of him, but Pete bore it all in near-silence.

The reason for this silence became clear a short while later as Adam hammered his cock deep into my gaping anus. My knees were on the carpet, my arms and face on the edge of the mattress, my bulging belly hanging safely downwards while his thrusting hips slapped hard against my buttocks and his cock plumbed the depths of my rectum.

I looked up with glazed eyes to see that my husband’s attention was somewhere else entirely. There, only a few feet from me, Pete was fucking Eve. And if the look on Eve’s face was even close to being genuine, he was doing it very well!

Given the force with which Adam’s cock was being thrust in and out of my rectum and the waves of pleasure that were rippling through my helpless body, I could do nothing but watch, stunned as for the first time in my life, I saw the man I had married so many years ago with his cock in another woman’s vagina.

Unlike Adam and me, they were fully on the bed, but Eve was on her knees too, her face pressed into the pillow while Pete hammered himself into her from behind. His hands were on her hips as firmly as Adams;’ were on mine, his fingers digging deep into her flesh as he pulled her back onto his cock with every thrust.

The loud slapping sound as their bodies collided again and again, told me how wet she was as clearly as her squealing told me how aroused my husband had made her.

‘Slap-slap-slap-slap!’ came the sounds from Eve’s vagina.

“Yes! Oh God, fuck me, Pete!” Eve’s voice wailed into the pillow in orgasmic cries that even in my muddled condition I could tell were in no way faked.

‘Slup-slup-slup-slup’ came the reply from my rectum, but I was too far gone even to think of speaking as the umpteenth climax of the evening wracked my over-sized body.

‘Slap-slap-slap-slap!’ from Eve’s weeping vagina.

‘Slup-slup-slup-slup!’ from my distended anus.

‘Slap-slap-slap-slap!’

‘Slup-slup-slup-slup!’

Beneath the onslaught from Adam’s cock, my tiny, dangling boobs wobbled, my hanging bump rocked and lubrication poured from what could only be called my cunt down the inside of both thighs. My anus had long since given up any attempt at resistance, its complete surrender leaving my body open wide to anything and everything my assailant wanted to do.

And what did he want to do? The answer caught me completely by surprise.

‘SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!’

The palm of Adam’s right hand struck my right buttock hard, three times. He paused in his thrusts, his cock still balls deep inside me as if to let my fuddled brain register this new event.

My senses reeled at the unexpected assault, my flesh stinging.

‘SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!’

This time, my left buttock took the full force of his blows. It stung wonderfully.

‘SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!’ on the right again.

‘SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!’ on the left.

It hurt! It stung! It felt… simply incredible!

I could feel my lubrication flowing even more freely down my inner thighs.

‘SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!’

It felt so good; I barely noticed that the creaking of the bed alongside me had paused too.

“Look at her Pete!” Eve’s hissing, passion-driven voice came from above. “She’s loving it!”

She was right; I was loving it! The realisation was almost as great a shock as the blows themselves.

‘SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!’ Adam’s hand fell on my stinging buttock again.

“Christ! Look at her face! Your slut of a wife loves a spanking!” Even hissed.

There was no point even trying to deny it. To my amazement, being spanked by her husband was doing the impossible; turning me on even more.

‘SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!’

“Look at her, Pete!” Eve pushed my husband harder. “Look! She’s got a baby in her belly and an ass full of cock but it still isn’t enough.”

‘SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!’

“Oh my God!” Pete’s voice sounded amazed.

‘SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!’

“Your wife’s a slut Pete,” Eve voice above my head growled. “Look at her; Alice is a dirty, pregnant slut!”

‘SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!’ ‘SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!’

“AaaahhhhoooooGGodddDDD!”

A small but new and completely unfamiliar kind of orgasm rippled through my body, making me shudder, driving Adam’s cock even deeper into my gaping rectum.

“She just came Pete!” Eve ‘s voice was triumphant. “She just came with my husband’s cock in her ass! She’s a slut Pete! A cock-hungry, cheating, pregnant slut!”

My head was spinning.

“Tell her Pete! Tell her what she really is!”

Adam paused in his fucking as if to let me hear whatever my husband said more clearly. But Pete said nothing.

“She’s cheating on you now, Pete!” Eve continued. “Look at her! Right in front of you! My husband’s cock is balls-deep in her arse, he’s giving her a good hiding too and she’s loving it! She’s loving every inch of it like the cunt she is!”

Adam said nothing, he simply slid his erect cock slowly in and out of my rectum as his wife’s tirade continued, keeping me at a peak of arousal.

“Say it Pete! Tell her what you think of her. Whatever you say, it’s only going to be the truth. Look at her!”

There was a pause, then my husband’s voice rang round the room, familiar but with a hard, feral tone unlike anything I had ever heard before.

“She’s…. she’s a cunt!”

“That’s better. Say it again!”

“She’s a cunt! Alice is a cheating cunt!”

She was right and he was right. I had been and still was a cheating cunt wife. On all fours, my rectum impaled on another man’s erect cock, my thighs glistening with my orgasmic juices and yet another man’s baby in my belly, how could I possibly deny it?

“That’s the way, Pete. Let it all out! Fuck me while you tell her!”

Eve turned away, presenting her vulva to my husband again. He obediently and immediately thrust his erect cock back into her vagina and began to thrust, hard and brutally.

“You’re. A. Dirty. Cheating. Slut,” he continued.

His words should have hurt but instead, along with the increasing power and pace of Adam’s thrusts, they drove my arousal to even greater heights.

“You’ve. Cheated. On me. For. The whole. Of last year.”

Pete’s words matched the pace of his resumed thrusts.

“Yes! Yes! I did,” I gasped in response although he probably couldn’t hear my desperate voice.

“You fucked. Our best friend!” he snarled, driving himself hard into Eve’s body.

“Yes! I fucked Tony.”

My voice was full of passion.

“You fucked.” SLAP! “Two kids too.” SLAP!

“Yes! Yes! I fucked them!” I wailed.

“It’s. Not. Even. My. Baby. In your. Fat belly. Is it Penny?”

Neither of us noticed that he had used my real name. From our previous evening together, Adam had guessed Pete was not the father of my child, but this was the first time it had been shouted out so clearly.

“No!” I responded, carried away by the heat of the moment. “No Pete! She’s not your baby! Darren knocked me up!”

“Who Penny?”

“Darren. Darren. Knocked. Me. Up!”

And with that, I dissolved into one of the most intensely emotional climaxes of my life. Tears poured from my eyes, my legs shook, my arms gave way and my whole body shook as wave after wave of climax overtook me.

This was too much for Adam. Though only partly in touch with reality, I still had enough consciousness to recognise the throbbing and pulsing of an erect cock ejaculating deep inside my rectum.

“Jesus Christ Penny…” he exclaimed as he came, using my real name for the first time.

I fell forward onto the rug, my arms and legs splayed helplessly. Adam’s body followed mine, his cock still inside me, still spurting semen into the latex sleeve in my darkest place.

Above my head, the bed was creaking wildly and noisily as my husband was reaching a similarly messy conclusion inside Eve’s no doubt tight, possibly spasming vagina.

For a moment I wondered how it must feel to have a woman’s body wrapped so tightly around so sensitive a part of one’s own… but then my own body’s convulsions drove all such curiosity from my mind as I came for what was to be the last time.

***

A few minutes later I was lying on my side on the carpet, my body trembling, feeling the heat of Adam’s body pressed against my back and the last pulses of his ejaculating cock deep inside my rectum. Behind my head, his breath was noisy and warm on the back of my neck. As I lay there shaking, I felt his strong arms encircling my body, holding me securely against him as my mind tried to come to terms with all that had just happened.

It took all the little self-control that remained within me, not to tell him how much I loved him and how I wished my baby was his.

Fortunately, before I could make an even greater exhibition of myself, we were disturbed.

‘Creak-creak-creak-creak-creak-creak-creak-creak!’

From above our heads, the protests of bed on which Pete and Eve were fucking came louder and faster as his thrusts reached jackhammer speed. The sound of flesh striking wet, weeping flesh filled the room.

‘Slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap!’

Pete was giving his all; his body slamming into Eve’s as hard as I had ever felt it slam into mine. His long slender, latex-covered cock was pummelling her cervix as it had so often pummelled mine but much faster and with a passion I had only seen in my husband after I had been fucked by another man.

‘SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP!’

Immediately after this came the loud gasps, wails and sighs of a male and female reaching the end of a mutually satisfying, intensely climactic copulation.

“Oh my God! Oh God! Oh God! Oh God, Yessss!”

Eve’s voice wailed in what was either an impressive orgasm or an even more impressive fake, followed swiftly and disturbingly by the familiar voice of the man I loved reaching a climax more intense than I could remember him ever having while fucking me.

“Nngh! Nngh! NnnnngggHHH!!”

Pete’s grunting was feral, almost primeval in its animal intensity. The rhythm of the creaking broke, its pace became erratic and even in my dazed, post-orgasmic state I could tell that within seconds, my husband of over twenty years would be ejaculating in the vagina of another woman.

Nnnnnaaaaggghhh!”

Then Pete came in a condom as deep in Eve’s vagina as her husband had cum in my rectum. Apart from our friend Julie, this was as far as I knew, the only other occasion since our marriage in which Pete’s semen had been pumped into another woman’s body.

My heart ached as I listened, my own lover’s softening cock still within me, unable to do anything but hear and cry.

Then the room was still.

Once his climax was over and every last drop of semen had been pumped into the condom, Adam drew his softening cock slowly from my rectum, lifted me to the bed and folded me in his arms. I held him tightly as my trembling body descended from the heights of its final and most intense climax, wrapping my arms and legs around my lover, crying with emotion throughout and begging him not to let me go.

I looked up to see Pete and Eve on the other bed, my husband behind his lover, both looking across at Adam and me as we spooned.

There was a look on Pete’s face which I hadn’t seen before; lust, desire and admiration were all there in abundance, but there was an aura of guilt mixed with satisfaction too.

Our gazes met; the regularly cheating wife looking deep into the eyes of her newly unfaithful husband.

There was a long silence while we both tried to come to terms with what had just taken place.

***

There was more than a little awkwardness as we both slowly disentangled ourselves from our respective partners a few minutes later. Both of us knew instinctively that something important had just changed but neither yet knew just what or how.

Adam and Eve had clearly encountered post-climactic confusion before. Unfazed, they rose silently from the beds and went together into the room’s large en-suite bathroom. I couldn’t help watching Eve’s slender, feminine figure as she moved gracefully across the carpeted floor and compare my own distinctly middle-aged body with its hugely swollen belly very unfavourably.

“Feeling okay?” Pete asked as he slid to the mattress alongside me.

I nodded, unable to speak, my head spinning as the final tremors of climax left my shaken, swollen body.

He moved closer until his legs were pressed close to mine. I could see his cock, long, dark but now flaccid lying on his sticky inner thigh; the cock that had just brought so much genuine pleasure to his temporary lover. I could feel the soreness between my buttocks beginning to replace the pleasure of my recent penetration.

“Are you sure?” he asked again. “You’re crying.”

“I’m okay,” I insisted, unable to stop the tears. “It was just… a bit too much.”

Pete looked at me with a frown on his handsome face then lowered me to the mattress.

“I understand,” he whispered, running his fingers along my jawline.

It was intended as affection, but I could smell Eve’s powerful orgasmic juices on his hand.

I was too dazed and exhausted to do anything more than lie on the bed while our friends calmly and relaxedly washed and dressed themselves. Pete was talking softly to them both. I couldn’t make out the words, but the atmosphere was warm and friendly.

Before leaving, Adam came to the bed and kissed me full on the lips, as did his wife before wishing me goodnight.

“Good luck with the baby,” Eve smiled. “Whoever’s it is.”

I smiled ruefully at their backs as Pete showed them both to the door, kissing Eve on the mouth and shaking Adam warmly by the hand, thanking them profusely before closing and locking the door and returning to the bed and his naked, spent wife.

“It’s over,” he smiled, stroking my arm. “How do you feel now?”

“Exhausted,” I replied, my eyes half closed.

“I bet. Was it as good as last time?”

“What did it look like?”

“It looked like you were having a pretty good time,” he grinned.

“Not just me this time,” I chided.

Pete flushed as if embarrassed.

“Is that upsetting you?” he asked.

“Of course not,” I lied. “I’m hardly in a condition to complain.”

He bent over and kissed me on the forehead.

“You’re amazing, Penny Barker,” he said. “Do you want me to run you a bath?”

I shook my head.

“I just need to sleep,” I sighed. “Can we clean up in the morning?”

“Just one last thing…”

Pete smiled, rolling me onto my back, my legs opening instinctively. Pete spread my thighs then paid my abused vulva some very pleasant attention with his tongue before mounting my spent, unresisting body.

I was too tired to play my part with any enthusiasm and so loose around his shaft that it took a long time for my husband to reach orgasm, but when he did eventually cum, his ejaculation was copious and messy.

We fell asleep, back-to-back under the light duvet.

***

Needless to say, the following morning I was battered and sore. Pete and I woke late; too late for a hotel breakfast. As I washed the sticky evidence from my body in a warm, deep bath I found tiny reminders of the night’s activities all over me.

Little bite nips, small bruises around my inner thighs, bright pink marks on my buttocks and of course, a very sore, slightly gaping anus, just like the last time I had woken in such a room.

But not everything was like the last time and this was unsettling me more than a little. One thing was profoundly different. This time I wasn’t the only one who had been fucked to within an inch of their life. This time I had watched as my husband had fucked another woman, confidently and effectively.

He had looked handsome and capable as he did it; like the man I loved but much more so. I no longer felt I knew him as well as I had before. To my surprise and horror, and despite the outrageous hypocrisy of it all, I felt intensely jealous.

“Feeling better now?” Pete asked as he brought me a cup of lukewarm tea.

“Tired and sore,” I replied.

He perched on the edge of the mattress. There was a long silence during which neither of us seemed able to look the other in the eye.

“Did you… enjoy the evening?” he asked tentatively as if unsure what reply he might get.

“About as much as you did,” I answered acidly, then metaphorically shook myself into a more reasonable frame of mind.

“Sorry I…” Pete began.

“No! I’m sorry,” I interrupted. “I’m being unfair. I had an amazing time, couldn’t you tell?”

He looked ashamed.

“No of course. You were having a good time too.”

“Penny I…”

“You don’t have to say anything Pete. If I’m getting fucked to Hell and back why shouldn’t you get a share of the pleasure. It’s only fair; it’s just that I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

Pete looked relieved.

“To be honest, I wasn’t expecting it either. She just came on to me more and more as her husband got deeper and deeper into your knickers and before I realised what I was doing…”

“You were fucking her on the bed?”

“It sounds pathetic, doesn’t it?” Pete said quietly.

I laughed.

“It sounds like something a teenage girl might say after losing her virginity to the wrong boy. And equally unconvincing.”

“Are you upset?”

“I’m insanely jealous,” I joked – well, partly joked. “You’ll have to make it up to me today.”

“How?” he asked, clearly relieved.

I shuffled on the bed to get more comfortable. A bolt of pain shot from my anus deep into my belly.

“Well it won’t be in bed for a while,” I sighed ruefully. “I’m afraid I’m ruined down there for a good few days.”

“I’ll run you a bath,” he grinned. “And I’ll get the Vaseline.”

“You brought Vaseline?” I asked, amazed.

“After last time, I had a feeling this might happen.”

The bath was wonderful for my aching limbs, but the soapy water stung my poor, mistreated sphincter and my red-raw vulva very badly. I dressed carefully in the loosest maternity clothes I had brought and half an hour later descended in the lift to the lobby.

We had a late, leisurely breakfast in a nearby café then spent the day visiting galleries and some of the extraordinary museums Manchester has to offer before doing a little shopping. The weather was uncharacteristically kind for the time of year and as we walked anonymously through the busy streets holding hands, we must have looked outwardly like a conventional, slightly older couple.

The fact that the wife was pregnant at her age might have drawn a few puzzled looks but only a few.

But inside my head, things were anything but conventional.

 

Published 
Written by JennyGently
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