My name is Carol and I live alone in a small two-bedroom apartment in a suburb of a large city on the eastern coast. One of my closest friends is a girl named Lisa. I recently invited Lisa to stay the night at my house. We haven’t seen each other for a while and I thought it would be a good time for a girl-talk. We work in different jobs and we are far enough to make it a long distance call when we chat, so we usually don’t talk very long.

I was a good Catholic girl and didn’t allow sex before the wedding, despite having many boyfriends. That’s why I was shocked when my husband showed me a contact magazine, and he showed me that a man was offering to buy panties used by any married woman in London, where we live.

We were still out of money, and the Hubby, Jonathon, said that damage could be done to sell my panties, so he persuaded me to let him respond and arrange a meeting, in a local Saloon bar. We met the man, and he seemed very beautiful, and he paid me compliments on my appearance, and we drank a little, and I became quite excited by the idea of this man who owns my panties, to deal with, however he wanted, however bad. In the end, as we had more drinks, I grew up bolder, and when he invited us to his house, I promptly agreed to go with the plan.

While we were in bed, I looked at my sleeping wife, Crystle. She was exhausted. I lost the count of the number of times she orgasmed last night. Towards the last one seemed to have a constant orgasm.

Me? I could just cum twice. No, it wasn’t me who caused all his orgasms. No, it wasn’t just a dick. There were four dicks next to mine you were enjoying. One after the other. While a fuck she was sucking another to get hard again so that she could fuck again and add another load of hot sperm to that already in her tight pussy well fucked.

Another time, about 1995, several families camped on the beach with all our children. My wife is not a swimmer, so when I brought a group of kids to snorkel, she stayed at the beach watching us. I noticed she was sitting with the husband of one of our friends, a boy who had made no secret about her admiration for my wife, and who had reached under her shirt and grabbed her tits while kissing her last New Year’s Eve. He pulled his chest out of the bra and played with his nipple under his shirt for several minutes while everyone sang “Auld Lang Syne”. Many people noticed the movement under my wife’s shirt. The year before, as they were riding on the back seat returning from a beach that went out late in the evening, he would put his hand on his erection. He said he heard him up and down, “he wasted once” then pulled his hand. She pulled her hand back and pulled her over a blanket. Under the blanket, he pulled his shorts, and my wife heard his hard penis smooth. He whispered “it’s not a good idea”, but all the others in the car, besides the driver, seemed to fall asleep. He hit it up and down for a few minutes, feeling it grow weaker and harder, and a small pre-cum came out to assist with lubrication. She was beginning to breathe heavily, and she thought she would shoot early enough, when the other occupant of the back seat, the boy’s wife, woke up. My wife quickly took her hand and ripped her off the blanket, so she was just covering the guy and his hard. In both stories, I suspect there was a little more than he told me.

My wife, Andrea, is still out of service at 35. Dark and flaming red hair, green eyes, big skin and a fantastic body (36C-24-35). He’s close to a nudist like I’ve ever known. After we were married, I realized how much he loved to wear anything or as little as possible around the house. And I liked it.

One day, I came home from work and arrived at the main door at the same time as the newspaper boy. He’s a nice, handsome guy about eighteen years old and we said hello and he gave me the paper. At the same time, I opened the door, and there was Andrea, naked stark! The boy has a huge smile on his face while his eyes took the great body of my wife. Andrea banged the door and the paperboy left with a big smile on his face.