The rain was torrential; droplets of water bounced off the pavement by nearly six inches which thoroughly soaked my stockinged feet. The open toe shoes did nothing to protect me and the skimpy one-piece dress that I was wearing was wet through. Even a single-celled amoeba could establish exactly what I was wearing underneath. The umbrella was a pointless addition to my attire, for whichever way I tilted it, I seemed to get even wetter. I crossed the road and stood under the nearest lamp post close to the bus stop.

I waited. My phone pinged and I looked at the message from my husband, Brian. I smiled and bit my lip. My nipples were hard and erect; trying to punch their way through the thin fabric. I felt as if I was on heat. Although wet through and cold, parts of my body were pumping out enough heat to power the nearby houses.

A car rounded the corner of the street and I waited with bated breath only for it to speed past me and into the darkness. A large splash of water from the tyres pounced at me and lapped at my feet. I watched men in black overcoats and raincoats rush past; heading for shelter in the nearest pub or coffee shop.

Part of me couldn’t believe I was doing this and part of me was overexcited that I was. I felt alive, in control of my destiny. The woman I always wanted to be but was afraid to become. Well, here I was.

Another car turned the corner and I caught the driver’s eye; wondering whether this was the car I was waiting for. It too sped past me though not as fast as the last one. It screeched to a halt and reversed back until it parked opposite me. The automatic window wound down a little and the man asked whether I wanted a lift. The stunted conversation was almost one-sided and I told him that I was waiting for someone. I must have turned him down twice until he told me that I looked sexy and cold in my outfit.

I smiled at him. I told him that I’d soak his car if I sat on those seats in my state but he just shrugged. I checked my phone and there it was, the message my husband sent me, ‘you look sexy and cold in that outfit.’ The same words this man had used. The password. I smiled once more, stepped forward and opened the car door. I slowly pulled the umbrella together while my bottom was half in and half out of the car door. I placed the umbrella down on the passenger floor and slumped inside closing the car door behind me.

I let out a low sigh. I felt nervous, very nervous. My heart was thumping ten to the dozen. I felt his eyes on me, scanning me like some security device. He must have noticed my large breasts and the way my nipples extended into the fabric. He certainly noticed my legs, I made sure of that and as I glanced towards him I could see he was taking in the sight of a lone suspender clinging to the top of one of my stockings from beneath my short dress.

After he cleared his throat he asked me where I wanted to go. I was a little unprepared for that question, to be honest. I thought he would just drive off somewhere into the darkness and know where to take me. I shrugged, and told him to take me anywhere he wanted to take me. I just stared through the windscreen wondering what his reply would be. Something twigged in my head when he asked for my home address. I was unsure as to whether I should reveal that kind of information.

I averted the question and told him that I would have to pay him for giving me a lift, to which he refused point-blank but I insisted – like the good girl I am. The car drove past a trading estate which even at this hour of the night was like a morgue. Next was the Tesco car park and I started to wonder whether he knew where I lived?

I asked him whether he would mind if I got out of my wet clothes. He looked around the car and eventually told me that the only thing he had that was appropriate for me to cover myself up with was his trench coat that lay on the back seat. I looked over my shoulder and knew that it wouldn’t be needed.

I started to pull at my dress. I knew it would easily clear my head once I had unhitched it from around my bottom. After releasing the seat belt I accomplished my disrobing with a few wiggles of my bum on the seat as I clenched the hem and raised it upwards. I threw it behind me and announced that I felt a lot better and not so cold despite the heaters being on in the car.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that the look on his face was a picture of disbelief.

Even I couldn’t believe I was sitting here semi-naked. He was gobsmacked. My nakedness, except for the suspender belt and stockings, allowed my unfettered breasts to speak for themselves. I brushed them down with my hand just to make them wiggle to entice him, rather than to brush the water off them.

We came across another smaller trading estate and I urged him to pull into one of the car parks. He chose the one for a sports shop. He seemed to take forever to choose a space despite every bay being empty.

My hand fell almost naturally onto his when he applied the handbrake. I took it and brought it to my breast. I never looked in his eyes. I just let him feel and squeeze my tit and I helped him do it. My arousal was building and I think he could tell that it was, because he placed his other hand on my breast instead and leaned into me a little. By now, my hand had reached between my legs and I was now stroking my pussy with my fingers as he played with my tits.

I finally looked into his eyes and while panting just a little, I told him to get his cock out. It was an urgent command on my part, delivered with demand in my voice. He didn’t have a choice and I think he realised that when he let go of my tit.

I heard him urgently shuffling on the seat; raising his chest to unbutton and unzip his trousers and then pulling his bottom upwards to push his trousers down his thighs. Once I had detected that he had finished the manoeuvre, I reached out with my hand and pushed his torso back into the seat and with my other hand reached over to grab his erect cock. I simply slipped over on his lap and let his cock sink between my lips. I was in my element as I sucked greedily on his knob. I could feel his hand reach down my back in an attempt to claw at my anus and pussy or to massage my bottom. I raised my body so that I could kneel on the passenger seat and allow him access while I blew him.

I didn’t want him to last long at all, I wanted his sperm in me, filling my mouth before sliding down my throat. The whole encounter felt hot and seedy; a prostitute in a client’s car, a quickie but not in the back seat. I heard words leave his mouth, I felt his finger scrape past my anus and my world centred on his cock and balls. My hand feverishly pumped his stiffened member while my mouth descended to meet my upward strokes. I felt him tense. He moved back into the seat and his bottom started to involuntarily thrust towards my mouth. I felt his sperm hit the back of my throat and I held it in my mouth until the second and third jets joined it before I took the time to swallow; repeating the action a second and third time. I presumed his head was pressed hard against the back of his seat. Not a drop was wasted because I had no intention of wasting any of it.

Only when I was certain he had finished did I pull my mouth from around his cock and look him in the eye. I told him to get on the back seat with that same urgency in my voice. I pushed myself over to the passenger side and he opened the driver’s door at the same time as I opened the passenger door. I scooted in the back seat just after him and as soon as he had sat on the seat I positioned my body over his and aimed his cock straight into my cunt. It went straight in without any problems. I knew it would. My breasts were immediately thrust into his face and he didn’t waste any time in suckling on my flesh and sucking my nipples. They were indeed needy for attention.

Then I fucked his cock. Now it was the turn of my cunt to feel his creamy juices.

I bounced frantically on his lap, changing my position slightly to rock my tummy over his abdomen and let him slide in and out before bouncing again. I could feel my approaching orgasm knocking heavily on my door and I let it all happen. I just let the pleasure flow through me. I pulled his head into my cleavage and held it there; smothering him in tit flesh and working his cock inside me. I rocked my bottom to and fro and I felt his sperm shoot into me and flood my cunt. He certainly wasn’t short of a drop or two. I came almost at the same time, shaking and shivering on his length as I clutched his head tightly to my chest.

After our mutual orgasm, I pushed him away from me and I smiled at him for the first time. From the beginning to the end he had not uttered a single word. A few moans and a few expletives, yes, but not one single word. I wanted to keep it that way. I told him that I was thankful for him letting me pay my way and that I think he should get me home now.

He quickly nodded. I could see the excitement on his face and I knew that this much younger chap had had the time of his life. I slipped off him and picked up my still wet dress. I exited the car, slipped it over my head and was once more clothed, as much as I ever was clothed in the first place. He busied himself by putting his tool away and was soon back in the driving seat. I told him my address and that he should take a left and then a right out of the trading estate. He followed my every command.

Outside my front door, I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek and then the lips. Hell, I thought, he may as well taste himself too. I thanked him for the lift and then waved goodbye from the pavement.

I watched as he drove off. I walked the fifty yards to my house, opened the door and once inside I leaned against it, took in a very deep breath, and planned my oratory speech for my husband.

I couldn’t believe how slutty I had been, a total stranger to me, but not my husband. I enticed him, exposed myself to him, sucked him off and fucked him – then discarded him with only a thank you; like a prostitute on her day off.

It felt thrilling to be in that position. I bit my lip as I was about to face my husband. I was grinning as I approached him in the kitchen. I asked whether he was happy doing the dinner.

I was faced with a barrage of abuse. It started by him asking where I had been, that the bloke he sent to pick me up complained that I was not at the bus stop. That he drove around a while before phoning my husband back to tell him the bad news. Of course, my husband had insisted I would be there, waiting.

I finally got a word in edgeways and told him that a car did turn up and that the man inside did give me the password and that I thought it was his friend.

It took a while before he started to laugh and I nervously joined him in a bout of laughter before he pushed his finger in my cunt and removed it. He studied the white sticky coating that covered it.

You see, the plan was that I was to meet a stranger and fuck him. It was a fantasy that had been churning inside me for a while. So my loving husband arranged for a workmate to pick me up at a specified location and to announce himself to me with a pre-arranged password, the same password that my stranger had inadvertently used. I was dressed to seduce, or not dressed as was the case. I would expose myself and give him no option but to be naughty. Then he would take me somewhere and fuck me before bringing me home. I would then relate the tale to my husband; tell him everything that happened over dinner, about how naughty I had been and how slutty I acted.

I suppose it all made sense afterwards, simply because the person that picked me up didn’t know where he was supposed to take me. It made perfect sense. We laughed so loudly. I mean, what were the chances that some complete stranger would come up with the same phrase?

My husband smiled at me as we sat down to dinner at nine. He poured the red wine.

“So,” he began with a glint in his eye, “tell me what happened to my fifty-year-old wife on her birthday?”

I looked at him and just knew that our lovely meal was going to go cold.