I am pleased that a few of you had a nice little wank over my wife. How fantastic it must be to have such a slut…It is great until her Friday plans are interrupted. First up to take first place on the "piss Portia off" podium is her sister Jemima who has dared to book a family holiday, and she isn't returning until Sunday.

The second place goes to Daphne, who has contracted covid, and I don't know; there are some health complications that I cannot be arsed with, and Portia can be bothered even less, let me tell you. She has taken all of this personally, so who is taking the brunt? No prizes there, my friends.

Without her Friday night shenanigans, Portia has been unbearable to live with. However, I must admit, I have enjoyed watching her suffer. I am not disputing that her last confession was a turn-on, but lately, I have started thinking things over.

You see, I was okay with this Friday night thing until I began to see how irritated Portia has become. It is like she is withdrawing from a drug.  So, I had a word with myself because I am not a dumb idiot and if my wife wants fucking off strangers, then why shouldn’t I enjoy some of this perverted pleasure of hers?

Plus, I’ve been getting bored of the dirty talk about her antics, particularly when I never know if it is fact or fiction. I’m not too sure until I smell and taste the evidence. If I don’t get to do that, I must sniff her panties, assuming she comes home wearing them. So, when Portia was walking around with a face like a smacked arse and basically being a bitch I decided to take the reins.

As I said before, a happy wife means a happy life, so I knew I had to deliver my plan in a manner that would make Portia feel that I was doing it all for her. I am, after all, a man with a heart of gold. If my wife wants to get fucked off by multiple people, then game on. Plus, if she wants excitement and mystery with a bit of imagination, she's married the right guy.

I text Portia and ask her to be ready for 8 p.m.  I also suggest that she wears stockings, suspenders, a thong and a push up bra because her tits look fabulous when she wears those. Oh, and a thong because she has a fantastic arse. I want her to wear this ensemble under a long coat.

Portia doesn't know where we are going; she no doubt assumes I am taking her to her favourite and outrageously expensive Italian restaurant. She couldn't be further off the mark if she tried. If my wife wants excitement she’s going to get it.  I would hate to fail in my role as a husband.

When I arrive home from work, it's good to see that Portia is already dressed appropriately, and by the look on her face and her horny demeanour, she is good to go.  I run upstairs and quickly shower and change and feel my cock twitch when I think about my plan for the evening, I just hope I can pull it off.

The route I take on our little jaunt is the same way we would go if we were going to Portia's favourite restaurant, and then we drive past it.

Portia looks at me. 'I thought we were going for a meal?'

'What? And you sit there all night wearing a long coat? Come on, Portia, I thought you would be more imaginative than that?'

'Where are we going then?' she demands, her nasty mood returning.

'Shut up, Portia,' I snap. You will love this surprise, don't you worry?

‘Don’t you dare talk to me like that,’ she shrieks. ‘What fuck is up with you?’

'Sorry, darling,’ I say as softly as I can manage. ‘Just a tough day at work.’

Portia folds her arms, ‘Well, you don’t have to take it out on me.’

The irony of her comment isn’t lost on me, and I hope it isn’t lost on you, reader.

As we arrive at the secluded woodland, the car park already houses six cars, one of which is a Range Rover, which I see as quite promising. I park across from them before turning off the ignition and the car headlights. Undoing my seat belt, I turn to Portia.

 'I think you can guess why we're here?' I ask her, stroking the side of her cheek.

 ‘No, I don't, Gregory,’ she mutters sulkily.

‘Oh, I think you do, sweetheart.’  I go onto my mobile and take a picture of the country parks sign which we can’t see because it is pitch black. I hand my phone to her. She looks at it and then hand me my phone back.

‘Are you serious?’ she whispers excitedly.

‘Deadly, you up for it? If not, we can go home, you can get changed and we can go for that meal if you like? I booked a table for us anyway just in case you weren’t too sure…’

Portia squeals, ‘I can’t believe it Gregory.’ She leans over and squeezes my cheeks, ‘This is my favourite fantasy.’

As if I didn’t know that she has told me enough times.  I grin at her, ‘Okay, well, let's get the party started.'

 I flash my headlights at the other cars, so they know that we are ready for them to be a piece of Portia's action. I then lean over and undo the buttons on her coat, slowly undressing her as if I am opening the most precious of packages. I marvel at her creamy breasts and the way they are heaving out of her bra. In the meantime, Portia is lowering her seat slightly, talk about eager.

 Once I have exposed my wife, I sit back and let her do the rest and wait to see how long it will be before we get the attention she clearly craves.

 First, Portia slips her fingers into her thong, and I use the circular motion on her clit that I know always gets her in a horny mood. Literally minutes later, a face appears at the passenger car window, and I put on the car’s interior light.

The guy looks about twenty-one, younger than us, and I get turned on thinking that maybe he is inexperienced and can't get a woman, so must get his kicks dogging. I notice Portia watching him as he unzips his jeans, showing how excited she has made him.

Portia plays with herself faster and faster, and I can see her legs starting to shake. In no time, the entire car seems to be surrounded by guys eager to look at my wife. They start to bustle with each other as they fight to get closer and get a better view.

 'Why don't you take off your thong?' I suggest. 'Let them all see that tight, shaven pussy of yours.' 

 At my comment, Portia climaxes and comes loudly, and now I know we can get this party started.

 By now, Portia has got all the guys wanking as she strokes her lips, and I think it's time we move on to the next part of the evening. I could never have imagined that there would be so many men here, and I can't wait for Portia to get her fill. I open the car door and get out. Closing it, I lean my arms on top of the car and look at the array of cocks, various sizes and impressively various colours.

 'Listen, guys,' I say with hopefully an air of authority, like an MP ready to deliver a speech in parliament.

 'My wife will get out of the car and bend over the bonnet, and one by one, you can have a feel of her pussy. You will form an orderly queue behind her and your number is the one that represents your place in the queue.   She will then shout out the numbers of the guys she wants to fuck. However, there will be no condoms involved, so if you are opposed to that, you may as well not touch her unless you want to drive yourself crazy. Understand?'

Portia smiles at me as she steps outside in stockings, suspenders, and a bra. Slowly, she walks to the front of the car and bends over the bonnet, and I have never seen grown men move into an orderly queue so fast. I walk around to the passenger seat and open the door.

 The first guy is tall, with dark hair and broad shoulders - he looks like he trains and has money. I am guessing he is the Land Rover guy. He runs his hands up Portia's legs before moving his fingers to her pussy. I hear Portia moan and realise that whatever this guy is doing, she is enjoying it. However, I want to keep this pussy playing short so that Portia can get all fired up by the multiple teases I have created.

 'Right next,' I cock my head in a manner that tells guy number one he has had his fill.

 One by one, they all touch my wife's pussy. One guy gets a bit clever and tries to feel her tits which weren't in the bargain, so I instantly cross him off our fucking Portia list.

I walk over to Portia and ask her to tell me the numbers of the guys she wants to fuck her. There were ten altogether, and she quickly rhymed off the numbers.

'Right,' I shout. 'The lucky guys are numbers one, three, four, six, eight, seven, ten. The three remaining can watch.'

I motion to number one for him to get going before walking back to the car and getting inside. I put the car headlights on as dim as possible so I can see a piece of the action. Well, there is no point me being here is there if I can’t see it?

I stroke myself as I watch one guy after another push themselves inside my wife. Some bang her hard and fast, some just fast. I imagine all the spunk that is filling her cunt, and she is loving it. I mean enjoying it so much I briefly wonder what the fuck I have married.

I had noticed that the Number One Guy didn’t come. He just fucked for a bit, then stopped and stepped aside for the next. I figure, being first, he was a bit nervous. As the last guy pulls on Portia's hair and releases his spunk in her.  I nod at him, and he scuttles off on his way.

I’ve decided I am going to make sure that  Number One Guy comes, and he is going to fuck Portia in his Range Rover. At this point, though, I need to confirm the car is his. Opening the door, I get out and look at Portia's face, which is red and covered in a film of sweat.

I point at Number One guy, 'You, which is your car?'

He nods toward the Range Rover, 'That one.'

Congratulate me on my psychic skills’ later reader.

'Great, well, you can get my wife fucked in the back of it, and you fuck her till you come.'

He nods, walking over to his car, he makes a bit of a song and dance about pushing down the back seats but finally he is ready.  Portia gets in, lies on her back, and I sit in the front passenger seat where I can see the action close hand. I slip on the interior light for good measure.

Getting in, he slides over Portia. ‘You sure you’re okay with this?’ he asks.

I feel like belting him one around the head. ‘Of course she is okay with it,’ I snap. ‘She is lying flat on her back, mate, now get on with it.’

It’s weird, reader, because you would think him being the best looking one of the bunch and owning a Range Rover, he would be quite dominant. That is what you get for making assumptions, my friend.

Portia doesn’t disappoint me though, she takes charge by putting her legs over his shoulders before guiding his thick cock inside her and eventually, once Mr Sensitive gets into his stride, he is soon punishing her tiny slit and to be fair, he does a good job before coming inside her, what looks and sounds like a hot, brutal and shuddering climax.

Getting off her, he pushes his fingers inside her one more time before licking his fingers.  That bit surprised me to be fair, maybe he is just one of those that takes ages getting into his stride.

 Portia gets out of the car and straightens herself up.

‘Um, that was great,’ the guy finally manages. ‘Do you come here often?’

I suppress a groan, 'Nah, mate, it’s a one-off.’ I look across at Portia and see a flash of disappointment cross her face. I turn back to him, ‘Well, maybe not.’

‘We could exchange numbers if you like?’ He gets out his phone and I am wondering if it is Portia he wants to fuck or my good self.

I pat his arm, ‘No, you’re okay but we will be here on a Friday if we feel the need arise again.’

He nods and I walk off to end the awkwardness he is creating. Finally, I hear his car door shut and the car fire up. If there is going to be a next time, I will make sure he is the last number in the queue and Portia doesn’t choose him again, aggravating cunt.

We cross the car park to our car and Portia stops me. ‘Your turn,’ she whispers.

I stop. ‘Listen, if you think I am fucking your cunt now, you are mistaken. Anal or nothing, darling.’

She frowns. ‘What’s got into you tonight, Gregory? ‘

I look at her. ‘Nothing. Why? What’s up?’

Portia folds her arms. ‘We have never done anal. In fact, you have never showed any interest in it. Also, all this tonight, it just isn’t like you.’

I walk to the car and get in and wait for Portia as she teeters on her heels; no doubt her legs are aching, and her pussy must be red-raw. She finally gets in and slams the car door.

‘Sit on your coat,’ I demand as I turn the ignition key. ‘I don’t want come stains on my car seat.

Portia does that aggravating harrumph she does when she hasn’t got her own way, and we drive home in silence for a while, but Portia can’t keep quiet for long.

‘You have made me feel cheap, Gregory, do you know that?’

‘I am winding you up, silly,’ I say finally and pat her leg. ‘You were wonderful. I was just getting into a little role play of my own, that’s all, the dominant husband.’

I can feel Portia relax with relief. ‘Don’t do that again, Gregory; it doesn’t suit you.’

‘You enjoyed it though, didn’t you?’ I ask as I park up in our driveway.

Portia grins, ‘Of course it was fabulous. I think that must be one of the biggest and best surprises you have ever given me.’ She kisses me softly before getting out of the car. I watch her as she puts her key in the front door before I take her come sodden off the passenger seat.

Getting out of the car, I lock it and smile to myself, Portia has quite a few surprises to look forward to and so has her friend Daphne and then her sister. You see, my slut of a wife owes me. When I have finished with those two, Portia can watch me fuck someone. Only on a Friday evening, of course. We don’t want to mess up Portia’s Friday night fun, do we?