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Doing A Carol 40

Dear Diary. 

Phew! 

What a Christmas that was!

I’m a very lucky lady when it comes to Jerry as he generously bought me a Chanel watch and matching bracelet for Christmas. He must have read my mind, or picked up on the ‘not so’ subtle hints that I’ve been dropping along the way. Bless him. 

And he’s also bought me a luxury spa weekend for two. Now that was a surprise. He must have known how busy and exhausted I’ve been lately. 

I know he won’t go with me, as doesn’t like being touched, pummeled or stretched by strangers, so I’ll ask Sara if she’d accompany me. I’m sure she will as she does love a pamper session.

Along with some other smaller gifts he gave me, I’m a happy bunny.

I bought Jerry a Patek Philippe watch and a driving experience in a premium supercar around Brands Hatch. That will be fun for him. He’s a classic car freak and he’ll enjoy talking motor had stuff about those machines. Though that’s definitely not for me. 

Me, on the otherhand, I’d be at home or working whilst he speeds around the track, acting macho behind a powerful beast. He’s going to have fun as I know what it’s like to handle a powerful beast, don’t I?

I also bought him some new underwear and pj’s. Yes I know that can be deemed as a cop-out to most, but he needs smartening up (or I should say sexying up). His old underpants were starting to fray and were so old that they belong in a retirement home, so he needed a new collection to hold his crown jewels.

I wonder if Michael or Steve have new underwear for Christmas? Do you think that they’ll model them for me or perhaps, could I be their personal underwear inspector? I’m sure they would and I could, though I haven’t seen the guys for a while. I’ll have to make it one of my New Years resolutions to make an effort and get back in touch with them for some regular fun.

Well, since my hotel threesome, it’s been very quiet for me down there, like  an unchartered no man’s land, dry as a dessert and plugged like a dam. 

Obviously with Jerry at home, I couldn’t have any fun over the holidays, so I will have to cross my legs and wait just a little bit longer.

Talking of watering my plant, having recovered from my liason with Pascal and Scott, I replanted my flower by socialising at various parties and events with Jerry over the Christmas period. 

We had a lot of gatherings to attend to, as all of our clubs that we are members of, held their annual parties. Being a chairman of some of the clubs, Jerry had to attend and as the dutiful wife, I was obligated to join him. 

Well, it would have been rude not to have shown our faces, wouldn’t it? I mean, being such pillars of society, it’s good for business as it presents the perfect opportunity to discuss ‘work stuff’ over some relaxing bottles of wine and some nibbles. 

Though some nights I would have preferred to had been in bed and watched tv, but as soon as I were at these events, I switched my head in to socialise mode and eventually had good time.

No, nothing like that! It was just a few drinkies, dining and dancing with friends. That’s all. Totally innocent. I behaved myself and played the doting wife by Jerry’s side. Honest! 

Well, it was alright for Jerry as he could fully enjoy himself and relax as he had two weeks off from work. Lucky him. I didn’t have that pleasure as I still had two successful shops to run and they were in over drive with hoards of plastic card flexing women stocking up on their festive outfits and gaggling about what party they were going to, ‘who’ they were wearing and ‘who’ they were doing! 

I can’t complain about working hard as one, it keeps me out of mischief and two, our sales and profits were much higher this year, compared to last year, which is great for my business and for our savings as our quiet period will be upon us soon. And in some cases (fingers crossed that it won’t be us) many retailers tend to struggle to make any money at that time of year.

Although, the January sales do bring in new inquisitive customers, but obviously, the profits are much lower than average, so we do have to cross sell, up sell and push our products to make our targets. As they say, swings and roundabouts. And you know, I do like a bit of swinging, don’t I?  

Plus it’s a good time to take stock of what doesn’t sell and set some time to make plans for our Spring and Summer collections. I’ve already been to some of the designer houses and shows and have ordered some exciting new stock. They’re now in storage, ready to take their places in my shops. Though firstly, I need to make some spaces for them. 

Now bring on those bargain hunters.

Ping. Ooh, who’s this? It’s a text from Sara.

Ping. ‘Hi. Michael and I are having a New Years fancy dress party. It’s for charity, so bring some cash and your platinum cards! Ha ha.’

Cheeky cow.

Ping. ‘It was a late decision for us as we normally go away to our city apartment in Edinburgh for the holidays. But are you and Jerry up for it? It’s a vicars and tarts party?’ 

Ooh. That’s sounds interesting. Very different from their usual gatherings. I wonder what Michael will wear? 

‘Yes. We’d love to.’ I replied. I should ask Jerry first, but hey, its New Years and he needs to let his hair down (or the lack of it) and go to a different kind of party instead of the bog standard black tie ones we’ve been attending to recently. 

Ping. ‘Great. Come early as we can catch up on the gossip. Plus I want to see your new jewellery that Jerry bought you. You know I do like my bling.’

‘Yes I do. We’ll look forward to it.’

Ping. ‘I’ll text you the details. And don’t forget to dress up.’

No I won’t. ‘Will do.’ 

Oh poor Jerry. He’s not going to like that as he’s not in to fancy dress parties. This is going to be very out-of-his-comfort-zone night. Although I know he will make an effort as that’s what friends do. But knowing Jerry, he’ll make a big fuss and commotion over nothing about how it’s going to ruin his reputation. Then after his rant, he’ll calm down, reluctantly wear what I tell him to wear and dutifully attend the party with gritted teeth.

Well, he’ll have to like it and lump it as it’s only once a year we can do something silly and have a fun night out with close friends, instead of minding our p’s and q’s with a bunch of uptight associates.  

And more importantly, it will give me a chance to dress up really slutty, act like a tart and not have to hide it as that what the costume depicts.

Though thinking about it, will my outfit give Jerry a heart attack as he’s never seen me dressed in anything naughty or revealing? 

We will have to wait and see. And anyway, it will give me the perfect excuse to buy some new sexy lingerie and say it’s for the party. He’ll never know the real reason why I would need a selection of saucy purchases, will he?  

#doingacarol #kinkyklobber #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 6

Dear Diary.

I’ve just woken up from passing out on my antique four poster bed and a few hours have gone by like lightning. My make up is all over the place and I look a right mess. I’m glad no one can see me now as my friends wouldn’t recognise me. 

What was I thinking of? 

Having drunk some water, removed my make up and got undressed, I decided I’ll have a shower in the morning as I couldn’t cope standing up straight right now. 

Still woozy from all of that prosecco (I don’t suffer like this when I drink champagne) my head was confused as to what had happened earlier.

Did I really prance about half naked infront of all of my friends? Did I really ride Michael like a horse and slap him on his arse? And why did I like it?

And what the fuck was all that about in the car? Was Michael happy to see me in that kind of sex way or was he his usual ‘soul of the party’ self and was generally excited about being the centre of attention?

Whatever it was, there were lots to think about.

I’ve never looked at another man in that kind of way before, or even think naughty thoughts like that. Jerry has always been the number one man in my life. Yes, our sexual activities maybe bland, damn right missionary, but it was enough for me. Or was it?

What have I done? Why do I feel so confused, naughty or even aroused? Am I the only one or do other people think like this? 

Is this right? Why do I want to have another peak at Michael’s bulge? Is it right to want to see what he’s hiding?

Then ping, a WhatsApp message appeared on my phone. It was from Michael.

Fuck! Should I open this? Of course I should. He could be letting me know that Sara is home and safe. What else would he be messaging me for? 

Why am I shaking? What’s wrong with me? It’s just a text.

My wish had come true.

Micheal had sent a picture of himself, sat on the bonnet of his car in his tight trunks, obviously pleased with himself.

Wow! Not wow. I shouldn’t be looking. I turned the message off and put my phone on my bed. 

Damn. He knows I’ve seen it by the blue ticks.

Ping. Another text.

‘I hope you like.’ Followed by a horny devil emoji. 

Yes I do like. No I don’t. I must control myself. But yes I definitely do like. Definitely. 

Do other people have naughty thoughts about someone else’s partners? It it taboo? Pervy? Hot?

Whatever it is, it starting to make my heart race and my stomach has began to flutter. 

Can I? Should I? Why is he in my head? Go away. Go away.

My breath became deeper. 

I took another look at his pic and zoomed in.

What’s come over me? What am I doing? My hand started to rub my lady parts.

I haven’t felt excited like this in ages. Not excited, aroused. 

‘I’m glad you got home safely. Is Sara there?’ I messaged back.

Ping. ‘Yes she’s in bed. Are you?’

What should I say? The moment took over and my fingers tapped, ‘Yes I am.’

Ping. ‘Mmmm.’

Mmmm! What does that mean? I replied, ‘I’m off to sleep.’

Ping. ‘Alone?’

Of course I’m alone. Jerry is back in Essex and I’ll be joining him later that day. ‘Yes,’ was the short answer.

Ping. ‘That’s a shame.’ 

‘Jerry is back home. I’m just staying over here for the night.’

Ping. ‘Ah. Do you like the pic I sent you?’

Fuck yes. ‘Nice car.’

Ping. ‘Ha ha. I’m not talking about the car. Anything else?’

What could I say? Nice bulge. Now take your pants off and show me what you’ve got. ‘It’s very cheeky.’

Ping. ‘Just cheeky?’

What else does he want? Yes I know what he wants. ‘Very naughty.’ That should make him happy.

Ping. ‘I like being naughty.’

‘I can see that!’

Ping. ‘Do you?’

‘What?’

Ping. ‘Like being naughty?’

Damn. He’s trapped me. ‘Sometimes. When I’m in the mood.’ That should shut him up.

Ping. ‘Mmm. Sounds good. Are you in the mood now?’ 

Will he never give up? ‘I’m too drunk to be in the mood. And in the mood for what?’

Ping. ‘Stop playing games.’

‘Just wondering what you’re on about.’

Ping. ‘You know what I’m on about.’

‘Tell me.’

Ping. Another picture arrived. This time it was Michael in the nude.

Wow!

Ping. ‘You like?’ Same question as before.

How would any hot blooded woman not like? His cock was erect, thick and meaty. The rumours were true!

Do you hear me complaining? ‘Great picture. Sara’s a lucky woman.’

Ping. ‘Not that lucky lately.’ 

‘Oh I see. So do you show your bits to every woman?’

Ping. ‘Only the ones I like!’

‘That’s nice. I’m lucky then?’

Ping. ‘Yes. And you could be too!’

‘Oh.’ My heart pounded even harder as my fingers explored my pulsating clit.

This is so wrong. So wrong but so right!

I opened my legs wider and slipped my finger in to my vagina. Slipping it in and out, thinking of Michael munching down there, licking and teasing me, tickling me with his tongue. 

I should be thinking of Jerry. No can’t. Need Michael. 

Oh God. Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts. No, good thoughts. Great thoughts. Hot thoughts. 

I arched my back with desire. I wanted him. Desperately wanted him.

Ping. ‘Let me know when you want to see it for real. You won’t regret it.’ 

I know I won’t. I want you now Michael now! I want you now.

I stared his the latest picture, rubbing my bits and thrashing about on my bed. I wanted his chunky manhood inside me, pumping his hard cock and pushing my boundaries. 

I let out a soft moan. By now my whole body was quivering with wanton last. 

Fuck I’m going to cum.

A shower of heavenly juices flowed out of me, soaking my legs and hand.

What have I done? Did I regret it? No. 

Did I enjoy it? Yes. Do I want more? Fuck yes!

Ping. ‘You still there?’

‘Just about. Feeling sleepy.’ I lied. Well kind of.

‘I shall let you sleep. As you will need your energy soon. Night.’

‘Night night.’

I Iaid on the bed exhausted. Panting from a different kind of experience that I’ve never had with Jerry.

Poor Jerry. I mustn’t let him know. He’d be heart broken. Devastated.

Damn. I really do need a shower now. 

Shit, shit, shit! What have I done? I can’t really pursue this with Michael, can I? It was a drunken thing, a spur of the moment, horny thing, wasn’t it? Nothing special. Just silly text fun.

Damn. I can’t concentrate. Need my shower. 

Oh Michael, what have you done to me? I’m a wreck. You’ve messed with my head. 

I’m a successful business woman with a loving husband. 

Surely texting isn’t cheating, is it? Nothing really happened. But why do I feel so guilty?

Damn. I’ve got lots to think about. But that can wait until the morning.

But for now, that fountain of hot water awaits. 

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 5

Dear Diary.

Here’s the continuation of my party escapades and the consequences of what happened after.

So after the break and a few discreet purchases being made by the other ladies, we were now on to game number three.

This time it was Wanky Races. Each of us were given a fully charged dildo. We had to line them up and the first one that crossed the finishing line, wins. 

I was determined to win and I picked the best toy.

‘3, 2, 1. Go.’

The toys buzzed and whirled across the floor to the screaming directions from the ladies. 

‘Come on number 1. Come on Bouncing Bunny!’

Obviously the toys couldn’t understand what we were saying, but we all drunkly laughed at the chaos that writhed before us.

And yay, I won! It was my turn to pick a prize. So I delved deep into the basket and pulled out a thin parcel.

‘Open it,’ Marta yelled. ‘Let’s see what you’ve won.’

Not wanting to disappoint, I ripped open the pretty pink paper to reveal a finger sized vibrator.

Everyone clapped. 

‘Ooh. A purse sized playmate,’ Marta chucked. I blushed and quickly stashed it away in my handbag.

‘And now for our fashion show,’ Casandra announced. ‘Who wants to try on some outfits?’

Sara looked at me. ‘Go on Carol. Try on that basque and stockings.’

‘No I couldn’t.’

‘Go on. You’d look great in it.’

I wasn’t sure what to do. As there weren’t any men about to be spied upon, I thought, sod it.

‘Alright. Alright,’ I exclaimed. 

I picked up the basque and Casandra gave me a pair of black stockings and then I headed to the bedroom to try them on.

‘Anyone else wants to play?’ Casandra asked. A few hands went up followed by a small stampede to the clothes rail.

With a few of us girls ready in the bedroom and a bottle of prosecco in hand to share out, Casandra played some music and we all paraded around the lounge, pretending to be super models and saucy lap dancers.

As we were shaking our booties, Casandra commented on what we were wearing and how much it would cost. 

With a discount on offer for purchasing the lingerie and toys that night, I couldn’t resist the savings so I whipped out and charged my credit card.

Casandra even pulled out a few novelty g strings and jock straps for the men in our lives.

‘I can’t imagine Jerry wearing one of these,’ I giggled, flicking a leopard print g string to Marta which landed on her lap. ‘He’s not that adventurous.’

‘Give that to Michael,’ Marta passed the garment to Sara. I’m sure he’ll be up for it.’

‘It will be too small for him,’ Sara replied.

‘That’s what we’ve heard!’ Marta winked to the ladies. We laughed and raised our glasses.

‘How very rude of you,’ Sara grinned, though I’m guessing a bit embarrassed of us talking dirty about her husband. ‘He has more taste than that.’

‘I’m sure the youngen’s will be able to find a fit guy to wear this,’ Marta said as she gave it to Maisy.

‘Mother!’ Maisy protested, then giggled with her friends. 

‘Right ladies. The party is nearly over,’ Casandra stated. ‘If you want any more products or wish to host a party, here are my details and some brochures.’

We all grabbed a brochure each and I stashed mine in my hand bag.

Then we heard the door bell go.

‘I’ll get it,’ Maisy said and left the room.

‘It’s probably a hot pizza guy wanting to share his delivery,’ someone shouted out.

‘Tell him I’d like a hot stuffing,’ another voice yelled. We all laughed. 

But it wasn’t the pizza guy.

Just then, we could hear ‘You can keep your hat on’ by Tom Jones coming from the hall.

We all looked at each other. What’s happening?

Then suddenly in bursts Michael, wearing only a pair of the tightest black boxer trunks ever that clearly showed off the protrusion of his talked about mighty bulge, a black bow tie and the biggest smile ever!

‘Ta da ladies. Your cabaret is here.’

Michael then proceeded to give us a lap dance, wiggling his bum and bulge about close to our faces.

Sara was horrified and stormed out.

‘Someone better go and see how she is,’ Marta called out whilst enjoining the impromptu show. 

‘I’ll go,’ I said.

Still in my underwear, I left the room to look for Sara. The front door slammed infront of me.

I couldn’t follow her as I were still in my lingerie, so I went back to the party, where Michael was now on all fours and crawling about like a dog.

‘Get on his back and ride him,’ Marta screamed. ‘Go on Carol as you’re standing up.’

Not wanting to disappoint, I straddled his back as he scrambled around the room.

I don’t know what came over me, but I slapped him on the arse. He neighed like a horse.

‘We know you’re well endowed like a horse, so act like one,’ I barked.

The girls laughed as he bucked and reared like a frisky horse. Methinks he was enjoying it a bit more than us. I got off and slapped him on the arse again.

‘Thanks for the ride,’ I laughed.

‘You’re welcome. Anytime,’ he winked.

With all the fun and games finished as Casandra had started to pack her things away, the ladies started to depart and thanked Maisy on their way out.

‘I don’t know what happened to Sara,’ I said to Michael whilst gathering my bits together. 

‘Oh she’s gone off on one of her huffs. She’ll be home soon. Do you still want a lift?’

‘That will be great. Thank you.’

With my hugs and thanks given to Marta and Maisy, Michael and I left the party and headed to his car.

Still in his underpants as his clothes were crumpled on the back seat, we both buckled up.

‘That was fun, wasn’t it?’ He asked.

‘Yes it was. It was a good evening.’

‘I mean you and I,’ he casually adjusted the rear view mirror.

Oh. I didn’t know what to think. Was he coming on to me?

‘Yes we did have a laugh,’ I joked, trying to break the tension.

‘Didn’t we? I can’t believe you slapped my arse.’

‘Sorry, I got carried away.’

‘Don’t apologise. It was a spur of the moment thing. Just a laugh, yes?’

‘Yes. Just a laugh. Right you’d better take me home or Sara will be wondering where you are.’

With that, he started the car and drove me home like a proper gentleman.

A few minutes later we were outside my cottage, with only the moon giving us some light.

I leant over and gave him a hug, accidentally brushing his bulge with the back of my hand. I thought I could feel him stir within the tight material, but wasn’t sure.

‘Thanks again for bringing me home.’

‘Anytime. And thanks for sitting on me. Sweet dreams,’ he smiled cheekily as his red Mercedes-Benz sped off in to the darkness.

I waved back then entered my home.

What did he mean, anytime and thanks for sitting on him?

The only man I’ve sat on and that was Jerry last month. Was Michael trying to tell me something or was I thinking about it too deeply?

Anyway, my head was buzzing from all of that drink, the room had started to spin and my bed was calling.

Time for my sweet dreams.

And it was. I then I passed out fully clothed on my bed and drifted off to dreamland. 

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 4

Dear Diary. 

I had to jot down as to what had happened at the party, the dawning of my hot wife journey and the raunchy repercussions that followed on that pivotal night.  

So, having done some research of what to expect at this party (and yes, my thoughts were correct) I packed a small wicker basket with a few bottles of prosecco, some crispy nibbles, a tub of chocolates and a thank you present for Maisy, our host.

Luckily for me that my friend Sara was going too, so her husband Michael offered to take us and bring us back so we could enjoy ourselves and have some drinkies.

Well it didn’t take me long to get to Maisy’s apartment as our intimate 19th century cottage is only a small drive away in the next village. 

It’s a walkable distance, but with hardly any street lamps lining the winding country lanes to protectively guide me back home, it can be very dark and mysterious. 

After waving goodbye to Michael and him saying that he was looking forward to Sara’s purchases (he’s such a cheeky and naughty sod, always up for a laugh) we were greeted by Maisy as Marta was already in the kitchen fussing about with the catering.

My offerings were a welcome sight as we soon cracked open a bottle of prosecco to get us in the party mood.

I’ve read that there’s a lot of ‘unusual and practical’ games to be had and I need to feel a little more looser to join in. I can’t be seen to be a party pooper, can I?

I’m not a prude, by any means as I’ve had a dalliance or two in my time, but somethings should be left for the imagination and for the bedroom. Well, that’s what I thought back then.  

We were ushered into the lounge where Casandra, the sales representative, sat chatting to a few ladies, surrounded by a clothes rail of undies, a table laden with adult toys and a basket of wrapped gifts with a ‘prizes’ sign attached.

I recognised a few faces from our village, golf club and local area, along with some of Maisy’s friends, it looked like it wasn’t going to be a bad night after all.

With the smattering of small talk and having caught up with the latest gossip, we had to wait half an hour for the rest of the ladies to arrive, so more corks were furiously popped and the festivities began.  

Casandra introduced herself, thanked Maisy for the invitation and made sure that our glasses were full. 

She then explained that we were going to play some games with the products and have lots of fun in the process.

We could later on try on some of the outfits and have a small fashion show. I wasn’t going to participate in that, well that’s what I thought. 

Casandra also had a range of products to sell and had her card machine on hand, as well as taking cash. This was handy as I wasn’t expecting to buy much. Just a small item to help Maisy earn  some commission. 

The first game was Naughty Bingo, where we were given a card and pen and had to go around and ask people naughty questions that were on the card. 

When each one was answered, it was crossed off. The first one to get a line won a prize, then we played for the full house.

It was very revealing as to what the golf club lot had done in the past. Very interesting. 

Marta won the line and Sara won the full house for the bingo game. Right, war had been declared as I was determined to win a prize. No matter what.

The next game, after another bottle opened with a round of drinks, was Dildo Hoopla.

Casandra had stuck different sized silicone dildos to a board and we had to throw sets of knickers onto them. Which each dildo worth a certain point, the person with the most points wins.

Unfortunately I came third and one of Maisy’s friends won. Bitch! 

With nibbles being passed around, we had a small break to look at the lingerie and toys.

‘You’d look gorgeous in that lacy basque,’ Marta said as I held up the item. ‘Especially with your lovely body.’

‘Oh shut up,’ I joked, secretly thinking that she may be right. Would Jerry approve of me wearing such a daring outfit? I’m sure he would. 

‘Here’s another drinkie,’ Sara said as she handed me another glass of prosecco.

‘Are you trying to get me drunk? I asked. 

‘Just want you to have some fun. We don’t have to worry about getting home as Michael is going to pick us up. Plus you deserve to let your hair down sometimes.’

Sara was right. I do need to loosen up and have more fun. Life’s too short, isn’t it?

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife