Tag: Hungry Girls

Doing A Carol 46

Dear Diary. 

WTF?

Jerry cheekily winked at me as the applause died down on their grand performance.

With tradition in hand, the Can Can dancers dispersed excitedly under a cloth of screams and yelps, leaving ‘Madam Fifi La Mur’ at the centre of attention, surrounded by a circle of joyful admirers. 

Having joked with some of his friends and had pictures taken with the remaining few, Jerry saucily shashayed over to me with his boa covered arms flapping about in the air like somewhat of a demented flamingo.

‘Surprise!’ He smiled, giving it all the jazz hands he could muster.

I was too shocked to say anything. And there I’ve been thinking he was stuck on the motorway.

I then gave him a thump on the arm. 

‘You git,’ I hissed. ‘Who put you up to this?’ I looked over Jerry’s shoulder as Michael raised his glass to me. Well it was obvious that I was set up by that dastardly duo, wasn’t it? The bastards.

‘It was my idea. Well, with the help from Sara and Michael. They gave me the courage to let loose.’

And let loose you did!

‘I have to admit, It was so difficult to keep it as a secret. I wanted to see the surprise on your face.’ He hugged me for forgiveness. 

‘It certainly was a surprise,’ l said.

‘You’re face was a picture. I didn’t think I could have pulled it off. You were so nosey about my outfit, so that’s why I left out that vicars costume to put you off the scent.’

‘Well it certainly worked.’ My coldness weakened as my admiration for him took over. Well, he certainly has a dark side, doesn’t he?

‘By the way, you look so sexy,’ he purred, looking me up and down in a knowing kind of way. ‘I’ve never seen you like this before.’

‘Do you like?’

‘I do,’ he grinned. ‘Very sexy. Very naughty.’ He whispered, ‘Very slutty.’

‘Thanks,’ I replied nervously, not knowing what else to say. 

Does he know something that I don’t know? Does he know my secret? Does he know what I’ve been up to and with whom? Have I said or done anything that I shouldn’t have? Have I given the game away with my perfect tart looking costume?

Well, what ever it is, he’s staying schtum about it. For now. 

‘Shall we have a drink to welcome in the New Year?’ He asked. 

‘Why not,’ I smiled as we squeezed passed the party goers to get to the bar.

Feeling releaved that my hubby was here at last and he could see me dressed up like this, we both edged our way through the tightly clustered crowd, only for someone’s hand to reach up my skirt and grab my arse. I turned around to see if it was Jerry, but he had his hands full with two glasses of champagne. So who the hell was that? I didn’t recognise any familiar faces around me, so I had no idea who it was. Cheeky sod!

I should have been annoyed, pissed off even, that someone had invaded my personal space and had, to all in purposes, had sexually assorted me. But as you know, I’ve been a very naughty girl over the past few months with much worse than that to admit to, than to be concerned over a drunken feel of my bottom.

And yes, I know it wasn’t supposed to be ‘that kind’ of a party, but still, hands shouldn’t be wandering where they weren’t welcome. Saying that, who am I kidding? I’ve had many hands wander over me, and much more!

‘A penny for your thoughts,’ Jerry asked, as he handed me a glass of champagne.

I quickly turned to him, flushed in delight from the anonymous grope and chinked glasses. ‘Oh nothing. I was just thinking of what next year may bring,’ I lied. ‘To us,’ I led the toast, smiling over the bubbles and buzzing too much from the merriment of the party 

‘To us,’ he replied. ‘Hey it’s nearly midnight. Let’s watch the fireworks together.’ 

Without any warning, he held my hand and guided me to a quiet spot so we could watch the display more clearly.

‘Everyone, grab a glass, your partner or somebody else’s partner and let’s welcome in 2025.’ Michael’s excited voice yelled into the microphone. ‘Ten, nine…’

The countdown had started.

Jerry squeezed my hand as the chimes of Big Ben blasted out of the speakers and the firework display had begun to dance across the cloudy sky. 

‘Happy New Year my love.’ He kissed me on the lips.

‘And a Happy New Year to you too.’

‘Let’s make it a special year for us. What do you say?’ His hand tightened in mine.

‘I agree,’ I smiled as I looked up in to the sparkling sky of falling diamonds returning back to earth.  

I totally agree.

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Doing A Carol 45

Dear Diary. 

It’s 11pm and still no sign of Jerry. Where the hell is he? Then I received this text.

Ping. ‘I’m sorry. I’m stuck in traffic near Heathrow as there’s been some kind of accident. I had to take the new client out for dinner as he wanted to chat. I told him I needed to leave early but he kept me back, trying to ply me with drink, but I said I couldn’t as I was driving. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Sorry.’

Ping.

Another text from him.

‘Have fun. And I’m sure Sara and Michael will look after you in the meantime. I can’t wait to see you in your costume.’

Oh well. As long as he’s here by 12am when the clock strikes or I won’t be happy. I don’t want us to argue on the first day of the year. 

Never mind. Back to the party.

Regarding my costume, I have had a lot of comments (especially from the men) as no one has seen me like this before. 

Sara was flittering about, although I don’t know why as she seemed to have everything under control, as usual. 

I have to admit, this was the best party that Sara and Michael have thrown and I’ve been to many of them!

Everyone had outdone themselves with the costumes. There were several young ladies dressed in the classic Parisian ‘Allo Allo’ style tarts outfit, walking about with collection buckets or serving drinks and nibbles. And us ladies weren’t going to miss out either as Sara had employed a bunch of well endowed hunky men in tight black trunks with vicar dog collars around their necks, also dishing out drinks and nibbles.

I’d love to be the centre of their meaty spitroast, munching on their 8 inch nibbles and feasting on their joyous fare, but as I’m with my regular people, I have to remain sensible and not let my wanton urges take over, don’t I?

I must stay focused. I must stay focused. 

Coming back down to the party venue, the marquee was decorated to look like a glamorous French garret over looking the Seine with dimly lit chandeliers, large vases of georgous pink and red plump roses, sumptuous crushed velvet sofas dotted in groups around the tent for intimate gatherings and various beds draped with an assortment of red and pink satin covers and cushions. There were also an array of shabby chic tables with sexy lacy lampshades on them, an assortment of chest of drawers and vintage themed wine crates so that we had somewhere to rest our food and drinks on.

Talking of drinks, tucked away in their garden summer house, there was a fully stocked free bar designed as a lingerie festooned armoire with stockings and basques flung about as though someone was about to get dressed for a fun night.

Although I mustn’t forget to say that sat bang in the middle of all of this heavy perfumed air of debauchery, the ubiquitous, yet naughty, mirrored dance floor, was splayed across the floor like a drunken sailor, ready to catch a cheeky glimps of where prying eyes shouldn’t be venturing.

Yes this may seem like an oxymoron with a dose of  glamour mixed with a sprinkle of shabby, but Sara does like to mix things up and keep us talking about her legendary parties. 

Having grabbed my Bloody Mary drink from the bar, I felt a hand slid across my bottom. It was Michael’s.

‘Long time, no see sexy,’ he said as he kissed me on the cheek.

‘Yes, it has been a while,’ I replied, seductively sipping my drink through the straw.

‘Sorry its been a while. I’ve been rather busy,’ he winked. 

I bet you have!

‘You look lovely. Very naughty. Doesn’t she lads?’ The bar tenders nodded in agreement. Well, they couldn’t say no, could they?

‘Thank you,’ I smiled as Michael pulled me aside to a darkened part of the garden. ‘So what have you been up to for not being able to see me?’ I pouted.

‘Well, you know I’ve been away with Sara for a few weeks.’

‘Excuses, excuses. But at least you could have text me. It’s been ages since we’ve got together.’ I placed my hand on his chest and circled each button, heading downwards over his black gown as he was dressed as a vicar. 

Micheal looked around the darkness to see if anyone was looking. They weren’t. 

Was he simply being careful of who was about or was he showing signs of a shifty, almighty adultery man, on the prowl for pussy and not wanting to be caught by his  dominating hunter and spouse?

It didn’t matter either way as with his cock sure attitude, Michael leant in and whispered, ‘Perhaps later we could find a quiet spot?’

‘What about now? There’s no one about.’

Let’s test his metal.

Michael’s eyes flickered through the darkness, briefly contemplating the offer. 

‘It’s too busy here,’ he said. ‘And anyway, Sara could catch us.’

‘OK,’ I pouted again. ‘Yes we better be on our best behavior, even if I am dressed up like a cheap prostitute.’

‘You’re my cheap prostitute!’ He slapped me on my arse.

I didn’t know whether to take that as an insult or a compliment. Yes I am his bitch and he can have me when he wants. But since our pre Christmas threesome at Steve’s poker night, I’ve since sampled a selection of cocktails on the bar of life and I still want more from its overflowing.  

Although he doesn’t know it, I am my own bitch now and I have needs too! 

Michael kissed me lightly on the lips as his hand slid beneath my tight skirt. Ah, so you found a quiet spot then?

‘Stop it,’ I mockingly protested, enjoying his hand entering my knickers and for his adept fingers to erouse my swelling lady lips. 

‘Oh I see my slut is easily pleased,’ he released his damp hand from the flimsy black triangle that hid my wet pussy and licked his sticky fingers. 

‘Well, there’s the proof.’ I guestered to his fingers. 

Michael smiled and smartly pulled away as we heard foot steps approaching.

‘Shh,’ he whispered as we both stood still, not wanting to move in case we were caught.

As the bitch that I am, I grabbed his growing cock through his gown and held it. Just to tease the bastard. 

Michael gasped and gave me a look of ‘behave yourself’ but I continued to grip firm until the footsteps disappeared.

‘Bitch’! He hissed as I released my hold of him. I smiled. 

‘That’ll teach you to tease me. Don’t forget, I can play dirty too! I’ve learnt that from the master.’

‘Yes, I can see that.’ Michael brushed himself down. ‘I’ve taught you well.’

He nodded farewell, then slipped back to the party. I, on the other hand, stayed in the shadows for a few minutes and finished my drink.

‘Gather around everyone.’ I then heard an excited voice screeching away over the tannoy in the marquee.

It was Sara. 

‘Gather all as Father Michael has something to say.’

I entered the marquee to see Michael dutifully standing on the stage next to his wife. With a microphone in his hand and a deflated hard on now dissappeared from my hold, Father Michael made a speech.

‘My dear bretherin. Thank you for joining our gathering of The Church Of The Short Satin Skirt and for all of your generous donations.’

An applause circulated around the marquee. 

‘There’s still time to have a go on the silent auction as the bidding will close at 1am. But for now, for all of you lucky randy vicars and tarts, it’s cabaret time!’

Another cheer exploded under the canopy.

‘And for your entertainment tonight, let me introduce you to the dancing girls and our hostess with the mostest, Madame Fifi La Mur.

Everyone clapped as Jacques Offenbach’s iconic ‘Galop Infernal’, otherwise known as The Can Can music, blasted out of the speakers. 

Immediately, a blast of excited screams and yelps echoed around the canopy as a beautiful rainbow of frilly skirts busted out from behind a curtain and flashed about the dance floor. 

Each dancer swirled about like a farm of frienzed spinning tops on acid, high kicking their fishnet clad legs to say hello to their ears and tumbling about with ease and perfection. 

As the dance came to its climax, the dancers gathered together in a circle only to expertly hide Madame Fifi’s entrance. 

With her back to the audience and the end of the music now on its last beats, the girls each did the splits in line, one after the other, they all shook their skirts and screamed as Madame Fifi turned around. 

Oh my fucking God.

It was Jerry!

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Doing A Carol 44

Dear Diary.

Wow! I can’t believe that it’s been a year since starting my diary and posting it online. 

Yes,  I know we’re in mid Summer and I’m still adding entries for the New Year, but it’s been a very busy period for me, not just sexually, but with my business too!

I will do my best and try to catch up with my diary and with all the naughtiness that’s been going on, so please bear with and hang in there as there’s lots more steaminess to come. 

Love you all.

Carol.

#DoingACarol #TalesOfAHotwife #KinkyKlobber

Doing A Carol 43

Dear Diary.

Let’s set the scene.

The party was scheduled to start at 7pm, but Sara wanted me to be there earlier so that we could have a proper catch up before her guests were scheduled to arrive. 

This will be great as I haven’t seen Sara for a few weeks so we will have lots to discuss, plus we do have tons of fun when we get together. To be honest, we are a bad influence on each other as we tend to regress back to our teenage years and become those noisy kids at the back of the classroom who used to cause so much havoc.

Jerry, on the other hand, sent a text to say that he was still in the City and would be late as his new client is rather demanding, so he would meet me at the party. That’s typical of him, work first, fun later. But his work does allow us to enjoy the comfortable lifestyle to which we are accustomed too. So I can’t be too angry with him, can I? Poor Jerry.  

It’s now 6pm and I’m dressed up to the nines like some cheap hooker with my tight skirt half way up my neck and a blonde wig bubbling away like a big bag of vanilla candy floss gravitating around my head.

Along with forgoing my natural, though expensive Estée Lauder face covering in exchange for a make up creation that looked as if Cloppy The Clown had slapped his greasepaint all over my face with a rusty trowl, I’m now donned up in this ridiculous (although I do like the short skirt and the thin blouse as I may wear this again on one of my alternative nights out) creation.

And yes, I did look as if I could come across as an easy lay (well, for those of you who know my secret, I am, aren’t I?) So I guess the costume has fulfilled its job description, hasn’t it?

Saying that, my commitment to the look wasn’t truthfully one hundred percent perfect  as I was still reluctant to compromise my skin routine by wearing some cheap fragrance, to which I may be allergic to. 

And regardless of what state of dress I’m in, or not, I do have to keep up with some kind of false dignity (as I nowadays tend to hide my slutty side under various couture outfits, my signature fragrance, Chanel No 5, had to be worn. Though this was not just on my neck, but sprinkled on my maidens moss too, just in case her bloom was going to be put on show for her admirers and win a horticultural golden gilt award from her fragrant and neat presentation.

With my £600 Fendi clutch bag in hand, and forced to wear my trainers to drive in, instead of my ‘fuck me’ heels as they were a bit too high to tackle the foot pedals, I drove off to the next village where hidden behind her exclusive gated house, I could see a hive of activity taking place.

Having been buzzed in by a georgous looking young man clutching a clip board with a list of invited guests on it, I was shown to a parking spot on a mat of wooden slats which were placed to protect her front lawn.  

‘Coo-ee,’ I heard a call from the front door as Sara waved me over. ‘Don’t you look sexy.’

‘Thank you,’ I carefully turned around on the graveled driveway to show off my efforts. ‘It’s something I pulled together at the last moment.’

We both laughed.

‘And don’t you look a vision too!’ I said.

‘I’m supposed to be one of the girls belonging to Madame Fifi. Do I pass?’

‘With flying colours!’

Sara fluffed up her hair like Mae West.

‘And is our mysterious hostress here yet? I’m dying to meet her,’ I asked.

‘No not yet. She’s going to make an appearance later. Now come in from the cold and tell me all about your Christmas. I want details.’ 

Sara grabbed my hand and led me through her hallway and out through a side door where the official party entrance was set up. 

Sara giggled and pointed up to the sign [The Church Of The Short Satin Skirt] that hung above her large gate which led to the garden.

Instead of the usual wrought iron fortress, it was now decorated to look like a brown shabby church door protected by a pair of freestanding flamed medieval torches, standing either side like soldiers of the guards.   

‘Ooh. This looks impressive,’ I said as the door opened.

‘Wait until you see inside.’

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Doing A Carol 42

Dear Diary. 

Ooh. I’ve just received this email.

You have been invited to Madame Fifi’s for a night of fun and frivolity. All is welcome to the house of Ooh La La, but leave your inhibitions at the door, along with your self respect, dignity and any folding cash as we’re raising money for charity.

The hostess, Madame Fifi will be making a guest appearance, along with some of her special guests. 

So come all ye faithful, confess your sins to the beloved brethren of The Brothers of the Sacred Short Satin Skirt and let’s all celebrate the New Year and welcome 2025 will a jolly good wham, bang, thank you mam! 

Please note, donations can be made online (there was a link to a website for this) or at the door. All major credit cards will also be accepted as our Ladies of the Night will have credit card readers on hand throughout the venue. Although, if you prefer to be anonymous with your givings and want to bring cash, there will be several collection buckets dotted about for your personal usage too!

There will also be an auction later in the evening with lots of delicious goodies for you to bid on. So dig deep into your decadent pockets and give generously to our worthy cause. 

I cannot wait to see all of my cherished congregation gathered together under our Canopy Of Hope to wash away our sins as we enter a new and exciting year. 

Be merry my friends. 

Kind regards.

Father Frostie, on behalf of our hostess, Madame Fifi La Mur.

R.S.V.P. 

(Contact details of the dress code, the address, time and date were attached). 

It would of course have all of those details as Sara is always a stickler for formality in that department.

And she’s proclaiming that this party has been thrown together at the last minute. My arse. 

This has been planned for sometime. So I wonder what’s up her sleeve?

Well, we shall find out soon, won’t we? 

I can’t wait! 

#DoingACarol #TalesOfAHotwife #KinkyKlobber

Doing A Carol 41

Dear Diary. 

It’s a few hours until the vicars and tarts party and I’m alone, pottering about in our secluded country cottage in Surrey and soaking up the peace and quiet. 

Due to work commitments, Jerry had to pop in to London for an unexpected lunch meeting with a new client, so he won’t be back until later. 

I’m not going to lie, but this is good news for me as it will give me time to relax, pamper myself and enjoy the solitude of getting ready without any distractions and uninterrupted me time. 

Jerry and I (well it was Jerry’s idea for some reason) decided for fun, that we should surprise each other with our costumes tonight. 

I’m surprised that Jerry came up with that idea as it’s not in his nature to be spontaneous and impetuous. Is he going through the change? Will he one day, ride up the drive straddling a large Harley Davisdon bewmtwee his skinny legs or run around town in a bright red Lamburghini?

Anyway, it’s good for our marrage to mix things up and keep each other on our toes, isn’t it? Otherwise things can become rather stale and boring and we could eventually wonder off into other people’s arms. Oops. I think I’ve done worse than that and more than once, haven’t I?

As a good friend, Michael offered Jerry to go to his house after work where he can take a shower, have something to eat and then change in to his outfit.

That was kind of Michael to join in the fun with us, wasn’t it? 

Or are those two jokers up to something? Who knows with those two? Anything can happen when they get together. Remember poker night?

It should be a fun evening as the Cooksons always throw a good party. And with a few stiff drinks in me, (stiff drinks, now read that back again) that will give me the excuse (need I have an excuse these days) to find my inner tart and get in to the character without compromising my society status. Don’t you agree?

So for that, I’m going to wear a revealing tight, silky red blouse with no bra underneath (just to be a bit of a tease) and to show my fun side. I’ll also be squeezing into a very short black skirt, black seemed stockings and black patent high heels.

And to finish the look, I’m going to wear a long blonde curly wig and slap on some over the top make up. If I’m going to dress up, then I’m going to go the whole hog and take my part seriously. I also need to come up with a name. Now let’s see…

I wonder if Jerry will recognise me? Well, when he does, he’s going to get quite a shock when he sees me dressed up like an old fashioned street walker, isn’t he? 

I don’t think Jerry will make such an impact at the party though. He accidentally left his costume out yesterday on the bed and it’s a boring long black vicars robe and dog collar. Typical. Well that’s Jerry’s fashion taste for you, isn’t it? Predictable and staid.  

Ping.

Blimey. It’s Michael. 

Ping. ‘Hello slut. Are you looking forward to tonight? I am.’

Charming. Again, no hello or anything like that, just straight in to the hard talk. 

‘Yes. Jerry and I are indeed.’

Ping. ‘I’m not asking about Jerry.’

‘I gathered you weren’t.’

Ping. ‘I can’t wait to see your outfit.’

‘Pervert.’

‘Ping. ‘You’re such a tease.’

‘I should be. You’re a good teacher.’

Ping. ‘Too right.’

‘Are there going to be anyone else there that I know?’ I’m hoping Steve will be attending as I haven’t seen him in a while. 

Ping. ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’

And he calls me a tease! 

‘Oh. OK. I will see you later. I’m coming over a bit early as Sara wants a chat.’

Ping. ‘OK.’ 

Just OK?

Ping. ‘So, you know why?’

‘Are you worried?’

Ping. ‘No, just curious.’

‘I think she wants a catch up as we haven’t seen each other for a few weeks.’

Ping. ‘Ah. OK. Well I’ll see you later. Slut.’

‘Yes. See you soon.’

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Doing A Carol 39

Dear Diary.

Pascal looked at me and grinned. ‘Are you ready?’ 

I confirmed our agreement with a nod. ‘Yes,’ I replied. A simple and clean gesture in return for what could be deemed as a messy, liquidfest which was going to happen on the desk, on the floor or wherever they wanted to ‘do’ me.

I licked my lips in what I thought was anticipation, though it could have be down to nervousness as I’ve never had a much younger guy before.

Though I don’t know why I’m worrying as he’s been leering after me all night. Or I really should say, I’ve been doing the leering and been practicing my pick up techniques on him, though not with any intention of 

catching a trophy toyboy. It was just for practice. Honest guv’nor!

I watched Pascal turn the key. Click.

Well there’s no turning back now. Here we go. 

The door opened, only for my nostrils to be fondled by Scott’s sweet recognisable cologne as it dirty danced my way. 

My heart pounded so loud, almost to the point of exploding as my young fuck stepped in to the sexually charged room. 

With his shadowed body blocking the doorway, I was pleased that the room was dimly and seductively lit, otherwise if someone had struck a match, the spark would have ignited the tinderbox of awaiting carnal pleasure in to an explosive ball of orgasmic matter.  

What am I doing? I thought as I was about to reenact that infamous film scene where Mrs Robinson seduces a young man. 

Have my senses been corrupted by too much wine, fogging up my normal behaviour with an injection of horny hormonal interruptus?

I can’t make any excuses regarding being drunk as I’ve been ‘with drink’ before and had sex. 

Perhaps when it just comes down to it that I’m a horny slut that loves cock. Yes, that’s it. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

‘Come in,’ Pascal said, gestering the young man to step over the threshold and in to the realms of debortury and unbridled lust. ‘I have a gift for you.’

‘Merry Christmas,’ I bravely smiled as I was laid out on the desk like a trussed up turkey, waiting to be bound, buttered and rubbed down. ‘Come and play with your present.’ My trembling hands massaged my breasts. 

Scott couldn’t believe his luck, nor was he unable to hide his excitement either as 

his trapped trouser snake tented through the black material. A big giveaway!

Scott turned to look at his boss, his face gleemed with excitement and confusion. 

‘It’s OK. You don’t have to worry. It’s all good,’ I reasured him. ‘I’m your toy for tonight,’ I breathed, as I opened my legs. ‘Just as long as you don’t mind sharing. Do you?’ 

Scott nodded. 

‘Good. Now come closer,’ I beckoned. ‘I want a feel of that youthful hard cock.’

Looking less nervous, Scott edged towards me, still adjusting himself.

Click. Pascal had locked the door. ‘Safety first,’ he said.

After glancing over to the locked door, I reached out and felt Scott’s hard on. Though it didn’t matter who saw as I’ve been doing that with Jeremy all throughout the dinner.

Scott groaned as I pressed my hand along his trapped shaft. 

‘Mmm, nice,’ I murmured as I felt his bulge. It wasn’t as big as Michael’s and it certainly wasn’t as big a Steve’s, but it was young, hard, throbbing and wanting attention. So who am I going to argue with that?  

‘Oh yeah,’ I moaned as I saw over Scott’s shoulder that Pascal was starting to take his clothes off. His once crisp smart uniform was now crumpled on the floor like some shedded snake’s skin, discarded for a renewal of service. 

‘Is that nice?’ I asked Scott, rubbing him slowly up and down.

‘Yeah, it’s lovely. Don’t stop,’ he pleaded.

‘Good.’ But I did stop like the cock teaser that I am, but I didn’t want to make him cum early. I know that young lads can get excited quickly and can loose their fun fluids in a flash, so it was best to take my time with him. After all, I selfishly wanted to enjoy his cum and after all night of chasing him, I wasn’t going to be an after thought and waste such glory.

So I then took the attention away from his loins to give him a brief moment to recover, just in case he was going to spurt in his trousers, by unbuttoning his waistcoat.  

With Pascal, now proudly in  in his underwear, stood behind him and undid his tie. Both items were quickly tossed on the floor.

Scott bent forward to kiss me and cupped my breasts. I moaned as his hand tweaked my nipples. 

‘Take off your shirt,’ Pascal ordered. ‘Mrs Banks wants to see you.’

Scott obliged and hastily removed his shirt, followed by his socks, shoes and trousers. 

He wasn’t buff, but he had a georgous firm, tight body with traces of a six pack working to the surface from beneath. 

‘Ooh,’ I squealed. ‘And what’s hiding in your boxers? Is he happy to see me?’

‘You bet,’ Scott said as be pulled down his white Calvin Kleins to reveal his soldier who was standing to attention. 

‘What do you think Pascal? Is he good enough for me?’

Pascal nodded. ‘He’s a great little worker.’

‘I bet he is. But is he a great little fucker too?’

Pascal turned to Scott.

‘So tell her,’ he ordered.

‘Yes, I am Mrs Banks.’

‘There’s a good boy. Now kiss my boobs.’

Scott did as he was told by grapling both of my breasts and licking my nipples. 

‘Ooh lovely,’ I breathed as his hands massaged my mounds of flesh. Let me have a closer look at your rocket.’ 

Scott stopped what he was doing and let me glide along the desk so I was at eye level with his dripping helmet.

‘And what do we have here?’ I asked as the tip of my tongue flicked around his leaking juices like a Kenwood mixer. ‘You taste lovely.’

‘Thanks,’ he proudly smiled. Though what else could he say as his sweet slippery pre cum slithered over my teasing tongue. 

‘Oh yeah,’ I mumbled as my lips kissed his swollen cock. 

‘My, my. We are hungry, aren’t we?’ Pascal gleemed. 

‘Want to join us?’ I said, continuing my midnight meal.

There were no verbal acknowledgement from Pascal, simply a physical responsive as he got down on his knees and joined in with the licking and sucking.

Scott’s cock twitched with delight as our two expert  mouths feasted on him, worshipped him and  devoured him, almost to the brink of uphoria. 

‘Oh fuck,’ he grunted as his cock throbbed and danced between our dueling tongues. 

I now wanted Scott in me, plunging me with and giving me his youthful energy drink, but that had to wait as I was enjoying my fresh faced lollipop. 

In the meantime, Pascal had moved to the end of the desk where I could feel his hands softly search the soft unchartered landscape and start to stroke my sensitive skin. 

I’m now twitching about like a fish out of water as Pascal had began to gently kiss my inner thighs, then circled around my shaven vagina, licking my bean and ended up caressing the crack of my damp pussy with his tender tongue.

Oh God, I thought, as I could hear Pascal moaning as he munched away, eating my crotch, moistening it, basting it and lathering it, ready for him to plunge in and give me his hot creamy gravy. 

I must be the luckiest bitch alive with me laying on the desk and with Scott’s wet cock in my mouth whilst Pascal’s hot mouth munched on my crotch. 

Yes, it was definitely an early Christmas present for me. My package has been truly unwrapped, thoroughly foraged and played with by an excitable couple of recipients. 

‘Fuck me,’ I begged, as I need to be pounded hard.

Though I didn’t have to ask twice as Pascal pulled me to the edge of the desk with my stocking clad legs dangling down.

He then lifted them up over his shoulders and plowed his solid weapon in to me, filling me up with his meaty Italian sausage.

‘Urgh,’ I moaned as he pumped away, whilst I continued to feast on Scott’s quivvering cock which suddenly tasted different, sweeter and juicer.

Knowing why and what was to come, I sucked and sucked his red raw cock until his spunk spurted out in my mouth and down my gagging throat.

Pascal, by now, with his once slicked silver hair flopping all over the place, was fucking me so hard that I’m sure Jerry would have been able to hear the friction of our slapping skins from our bedroom.

‘Yeah,’ Pascal grunted as he ejaculated in me, donating his erotic European fluids as Scott’s hot sexy sauce trickled down my chin. 

‘Oh God,’ I gargled with cum pouring out of my mouth. ‘Harder, harder!’

Pascal dutifully obeyed and continued slamming me until he ran out of battery.

‘Thank you Mrs Banks,’ Scott said as he pulled up his boxers. 

‘Anytime,’ I smiled, wiping the cum from my mouth. ‘And what about you?’ I asked Pascal.

He grinned and bowed. ‘It was a pleasure of getting to know you better.’

Always the diplomat. 

Having been de-spunked and drained of any sexual tendencies, the men gathered their clothes and immediately got dressed. Fucking typical.

Whilst I, was left laying on the sodden desk, out of breath, covered with cum  and wanting more!

It was glorious. 

By now, Scott had said his goodbyes and headed back into the darkness, leaving me with the knowledge of having to do that dreded walk of shame. Though I’m sure I won’t be the only one doing that tonight!

‘Will Mr Banks be waiting up for you?’ Pascal asked as he handed me some tissues to clean up with. ‘Perhaps on clean up duty?’

‘Don’t be silly. He’s not into that kind of thing,’ I said, wiping my mouth. ‘He’s very boring in the bedroom department. And anyway,  he’ll be fast asleep, which will be handy as I don’t want him to see me in this kind of state. Now do I?’

Pascal laughed. ‘Shame. I’m sure most men would love to see their wives being fucked by other men. I’ve had a few watch me screwing their wives.’

‘Have you now?’

‘Yes. It’s very liberating. You should try it.’

‘Well, we’ll see.’

‘Why don’t you leave out your dirty knickers tonight and test his reaction. You never know. He may like that.’

‘No not Jerry. He’s a strictly meat and two veg man. Not very adventurous.’

‘Oh, that’s a shame. Well if you need to release some pent up frustration, you know where to find me. I can easily book off a room for you.’

‘That’s very kind of you. I will definitely keep that in mind.’

As soon as we were dressed and had smarten ourselves up, Pascal slowly opened the door. ‘You’ll have to be quiet when you get to your room, won’t you?’

‘Yes. I don’t want to disturb Jerry, otherwise I’ll have a lot to answer for.’

‘I bet you would.’

‘Thank you for the lovely evening,’ I said as Pascal peered around the door for me, making sure that no-one was about.

‘It was a pleasure.’ Pascal gave me a kiss on the cheek before we left the office behind us.

‘Goodnight Mrs Banks. Sleep well.’ Pascal bowed and waved goodbye to me as I tottered off down the corridor. 

‘I will do my best.’

And with that, I finally sneaked in to my suite, took a shower, along with my lingerie at my wet feet so that I could to wash away the stench of sex that followed me back. 

No, I wasn’t going to do what Pascal said and leave my cum filled knickers for Jerry to find them.

And no, I wasn’t prepared to risk Jerry finding any trace of my infidelity, a sordid act that would never cross his innocent mind.  

He’s a good and loving man. It would tear him to pieces if he found out. So in that case, the crime scene would have to be corrupted and the evidence needed to be disposed off, tout suite!

Having cleansed and dried myself off, I carefully slipped beneath the covers next to the oblivious snoring husband, poor Jerry.

‘Is that you Carol?’ He muttered, half asleep.

‘Who else do you think it is?’ I joked. ‘Your snoring just woke me up.’ I lied.

‘Oh OK. Sorry.’ He rolled back to sleep.

What the fuck! And who was he expecting? Is he playing around too? No, not Jerry. That’s not his thing. Or is it?

In the meantime, I needed to get some sleep and rest my abused body. It’s been a long evening and it’ll soon be time for breakfast.

I may one day take Pascal’s advice and leave a pair of dirty knickers for Jerry to find. 

Well, it’s something to think about for the future, isn’t it?

 

#DoingACarol #TalesOfAHotwife #KinkyKlobber

Doing A Carol 38

Dear Diary. 

A few minutes later we were in Pascal’s office. It was dark, but I could just about see it was nicely decorated in the same plush style as the hotel, with extra business folders on the shelves and a laptop on the desk.

Pascal turned on a nearby Tiffany lamp, quickly removed the laptop and cleared the desk ready for me to perch on it. 

‘This is nice,’ I said looking around his private space. 

‘Am I going to be your office girl tonight and are you going to straighten your paperwork to file away in my drawers?’

Pascal smiled. ‘I’m definitely going to file those drawers!’

I giggled. ‘Why Pascal, with that attitude I think you’ll have to dip your thick nib into my ink well.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Yes. My office needs seeing to and I need a good, strong manager to sort it out.’

Pascal laughed. ‘I’m going to sort you out, good and proper.’

He then turned around and locked the door. ‘Just in case as I don’t want us to be disturbed.’

He then removed his jacket and threw it on a chair.

‘Of course. We don’t want anyone to walk in on us do we?’ I whispered.

‘No we don’t.’

Pascal walked over and kissed me on the lips. 

‘Do you entertain much in here?’ I asked as I caressed his hard bulge. 

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

I could feel his penis throbbing through his tight trousers. Only a few more minutes and then he’ll be fucking me, in any of my wanton holes. 

‘Oh. So you have had fun in here before then?’

‘Several occasions.’

‘Oh nice. And were they with horny housewives like me?’

‘Yes.’

We kissed again. 

‘Oh Pascal,’ I heaved as I leant back on the desk. ‘I’ve been a very naughty girl.’

‘Yes you have. You’ve been a right little prick tease all night.’

‘Have I?’ I asked, giving him a sly smile.

‘Yes you have. Though not just with me but with one of my staff too!’

You filthy fucker. How do you know? Have you been watching me all night? I bet you have. Oh my God! And did you see me groping Jeremy under the table? Oh, the shame. 

‘But he was only practice material,’ I protested in a mocking fashion.

‘I’m not sure if he thought of it as that! I guess he thought he was in with a chance with you.’

‘Do you think so?’

‘I know so. You’re a fantasy fuck. It’s what most young guys dream about. A highly sexual mature woman.’

‘Ooh. That’s nice to be thought as a young man’s play thing.’

I guided Pascal’s hand to rub my damp panties. His touch felt good as his fingers lightly fondled my crotch. 

‘Would you let him fuck you like I’m going to fuck you?’

‘Oh yes,’ I groaned as his fingers became more erratic. ‘I need two men’s cum in me.’ 

‘Mrs Banks. You are a dirty fucking bitch. I may have to make your wish come true.’

‘Oh please do.’

Pascal smiled as he pulled down my sleeves and let the boys bounce loose in to the fresh air.

‘Marvelous,’ his admiration gazed over my full breasts. ‘They are beautiful.’ 

He then leant in and licked one of my nipples.

‘Would you let Scott do that to you?’ He asked.

‘Yes I would.’

‘You slut.’

‘Yes I am.’

Not caring about what a horny slut I was going to become that night, I opened my legs wide to offer Pascal my marital fruit. 

He didn’t need any  encouragement to enter my space and pick the cherries off my tree.

Pascal looked up from licking my breasts and pressed his hard thick bulge against my moist crotch. 

Our lips locked and our tongues danced a dirty duet as his hands explored my thighs, lifting my dress up inch by inch.

It felt good with him rubbing up against me, bursting the bubble of our sexual tension.

‘What else would you let Scott do to you?’ He asked, inbetween our bated breath.

‘He can do whatever he wants.’

‘I’m sure he’d like that,’ Pascal said with his hands now gripping my arse and pulling me in closer to him.

‘You can suck him as I fuck you. Would you like that Mrs Banks?’

‘Who’s the prick tease now?’ I asked. 

Pascal laughed. ‘Do you fancy a threesome then?’ He joked. I can easily arrange it.’

Bastard. Just for that I’m going to call his bluff and see if this is for real.’

 ‘Yes. I’d love a threesome.’

He didn’t flinch, nor reacted to that answer. It was as though it was a normal day to day request. 

Pascal continued to seduce me and seductively kissed my neck. His soft lips tickled my sensitive skin as they gently glided up and down.

Why didn’t he say anything? I know it can be an unusual request to some, but nothing? 

Why is this? Has he done this before? Have I been their sexual target all night and been played like a right tool?

Have they dangled their solid rods in front of me to tempt me, lure me in like a naive fly and trap me in their devious web? 

Well there was only one way to find out, wasn’t there?

‘Call him in and see if he’s willing to join,’ I demanded. 

Pascal released his grip, picked up the phone and called reception. 

In the meantime, I stood up, dropped my dress to the floor and resumed my position on the table. I’m now laying on the desk wearing my black stockings, suspender belt, black lace panties and a smile.

A few minutes later, though it felt like a life time, there was a knock at the door. 

‘Are you ready?’ Pascal asked.

‘Always,’ I said. 

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 37

Dear Diary. 

The night was drawing to a close with everything winding down. The party, in my eyes, was deemed a great success. Jerry’s team looked as if they had throughly enjoyed themselves, we’ve also  acquired a new and influential client who would bring us more business and I had a little flirt or two with the possibilities of a new friend with benefits.

I know that they say you shouldn’t mix business with pleasure, but I don’t play by the rules anymore. My Stepford Wife facade has now crumbled like a delicate egg shell and is victoriously crushed under my Jimmy Choo covered feet to reveal my repressed, hidden urges that were locked up in a virtual chastity belt. 

And now that my hot wife journey has just begun, I can now explore and conquer a myriad of unchartered foreign lands, cultures, discover new delicious delicacies and capture a kaleidoscopic cavelcade of cocks on my way.  

As the slow songs smoothed other the digital turntable, some of the remaining couples who were staying at the hotel for the night, shuffled wearily on the dance floor to the melodic tune, clutching each other in case one of them fell. 

‘It’s been a great night,’ Jeremy said as he guided me to an awaiting chair. 

‘It certainly has,’ I puffed, trying to pull down my short dress. I’m sure people must know by now that I’m wearing stockings. I was too tipsy to care. Plus I was horny and I wanted Jeremy to fuck me raw.

And for those who I can hear screaming about what I did next and I know I shouldn’t have done what I did, but I put my bag on the floor next to me. As they say, bag on the floor, money out of the door. 

‘I think it’s passed your bedtime,’ Jeremy said as he sat down next to me.

‘I’ll be fine. I want to stay here for a bit longer.’

‘I really should be a true gentleman and escort you to your awaiting husband.’

‘Must you?’ I pouted.

‘Yes. I don’t want to leave you alone.’

‘I won’t be alone. You’re here,’ I purred.

‘Not for much longer as I have to go to bed as my private jet is flying me out to Dubai tomorrow afternoon.’ 

‘Oh.’ To say I was disappointed was an understatement. 

‘And anyway, I’m sure Jerry must be missing you.’

‘He won’t be missing me. He’d probably be fast asleep by now.’

‘But you need your beauty sleep.’

‘That can wait. I’m too wide awake to go to bed now.’

‘But I need to keep my promise to Jerry and look after you.’

‘I’ll be alright. There’s plenty of people about. And if I did need any help, I can always call on Pascal. He’ll sort me out.’

‘I bet he will!’ We both chuckled. 

‘I don’t feel happy about this. Are you sure?’ Jeremy asked.

‘Definitely.’ I patted his knee. ‘Yes I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. You go to bed and I’ll see you in the morning.’

Jeremy slipped his hand into mine and softly kissed it.

‘As a new friend, I’ll be here for you. And we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other. Trust me. There’s no rush.’ Jeremy rubbed my hand. ‘I will see you soon ma chérie. Our tete a tete isn’t over. It’s just beginning.’

I smiled. I’m glad I haven’t frightened him away. 

He continued, ‘And do look after Jerry for me as he’s a special man.’

‘Yes he is,’ I agreed as Jeremy departed for his private nightcap. I watched him leave as my naughty thoughts were interrupted by the remaining guests. 

‘Goodnight,’ came from the last lot of stragglers as they swayed out of the room with streamers strewn over them whilst leaving a trail of paper confetti behind them. 

‘Goodnight,’ I waved back. ‘See you in the morning.’

As the last lot of our guests retired to their rooms, a cleaner and the hunky bar tender, whom I’ve had my eye on all evening, came in to clear away the tables.

I wonder if he’s up for fun? Let’s see. 

‘Hello,’ I waved to the bar tender. He shyly waved back. ‘What’s your name?’ 

‘It’s Scott, he answered as he lifted a small crate on to the table. His arse looked good as the strain of his tight black trousers perfectly framed his pert butt cheeks.

‘Well Scott. It’s lovely to see more of you.’ I cheekily parted my legs slightly so that he could look up my dress to see the lace triangle of my black knickers and the tops of my stockings. 

‘And you too.’ Scott carried on collecting the glasses, oblivious of my intentions as he was too busy working or just too innocent to notice. Although the cleaner had a sneaky look and liked what he saw with a grin.

‘Do you enjoy your job Scott?’ I filled up my glass with the last dregs of the bottle of wine that was left on the table. 

‘Yes I do. It can be hard at times.

Oh yes. I bet you get hard. Very hard. Throbbing, in fact!

I thought I’d go in for the kill and get personal. 

‘Does your girlfriend mind you working unsociable hours?’

‘I don’t have a girlfriend.’

Mmm. Interesting. 

‘I work weird hours so I don’t have time for a relationship.’

‘That’s a shame.’ I parted my legs further. My dress got higher, as well as my hopes. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but as you’re such a good looking young man, are there any women on the horizon who might catch your eye?’

Ding! He clocked my rising dress. 

‘They’re maybe one or two.’

I do believe I saw his bulge twitch. Bingo! 

‘Ooo. Two women. You naughty boy.’

He chuckled. ‘I should be so lucky.’

‘You should try it sometime. It’s very liberating.’ Oops. Did I say too much and have I let my secret out? It’s a good job that no one was about. Especially Jerry.

‘Yes, I’d love to.’

‘Do you have time to have fun?’ I asked, trying to see his reaction.

‘It depends,’ he blushed. 

By the results of my delving questions, it looked like his manhood was growing more and more as I saw him adjust his trapped hard cock discretely behind the table. 

‘On what?’ I wanted to find out more.

‘On whether he finishes his work,’ Pascal said as he came in with a box of rubbish bags. 

Scott put his head down, looked apologetic at me and scuttled away, along with the perving cleaner.

‘Aw. I was just starting to have some fun,’ I whined.

‘I’m sorry to spoil your fun but unfortunately my dear, we need to clear the room,’ he said politely.

‘Am I being asked to leave?’

‘In the nicest terms, yes. I’m sure Mr Banks will be wondering where you are.’

‘He doesn’t care. He’ll be snoring his head off by now. I want to party.’

Again, I opened my legs to let my dress lift up more. Pascal bent down and picked up my bag. His head was now at the same level as my crotch.

I caught saw him looking at my lace covered pussy. It felt good to be appreciated. 

‘Do you like? I asked. May as well be obvious as we’ve gone past the flirting stage. 

The look of delight crossed his face. 

‘Indeed I do.’

‘Would you like to see more?’

Pascal looked over his shoulders to see if anyone was watching or could hear what was going on. No one was about except for the bar tender Scott scuttling around in the next room. And anyway, he was too busy to notice our shenanigans. 

With Pascal at my knees, I slowly ran my finger down the indentation of my flimsy covered crack from where my knickers were sucked in.

I then rubbed my finger over Pascal’s lips, letting him kiss it.

‘Ooh,’ he groaned as he stood up, only to show off his bulge in his trousers. His hands slowly slid around the outline to define it more.

‘Mmm. Lovely,’ I groaned as my hand reached out to tough it. It was thick and pulsating.

I looked behind Pascal to see Scott watching us in the distance. I furtively winked at him so that Pascal didn’t see my action. He smiled back, then carried on with his duties. I continued to rub Pascal’s bulge.

‘Come with me,’ he said, ‘and we can continue this conversation in private.’ 

Pascal held my hand and helped me up from my chair. 

‘Ooo. Where are we going?’ I asked as I fell in to his arms.

‘Away from prying eyes.’ 

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 36

Dear Diary.

It’s party time and the feeling’s right. Oh yes it’s party time, oh what a night. 

Yes, I know there’re not the right lyrics, but having drowned several more drinks at the bar and with a good old gossip in the ladies about our husbands, our private dining room had now been transformed in to our own exclusive night club for the evening. Yay.

Oh. Disco, disco, let’s go disco!

With champagne filled glasses in hand, the glitterball bouncing off the decorations and the party music filling the vibrant air, we were all whirling around the colour flooded dance floor and having a good time.

Despite the restrictions of my outfit, as I couldn’t move around too much as my boys would have made an unscheduled appearance and they weren’t to be for everyone’s eyes, I had a small boogie just to show face, then excused myself and found a quiet corner to settle down on a comfy sofa. 

‘Are you having fun tonight?’ Asked Pascal, as he filled up my empty glass.

‘Yes it’s been a good night. Thank you for looking after us.’

‘It’s been a pleasure.’ I caught him glancing down at my breasts. Yet again! 

You like? Want a grab? Do you want to bury your head in them and give them a wobble? I was going to ask, but thought, best not to. 

‘So what time do you finish?’ I asked off hand, trying not to give him the intention that I wanted to suck his cock dry or be fucked hard across the bar. I was just asking out of pure curiosity, thats all!

‘When everyone has gone to bed.’

‘Oh dear. That’s a long time to wait.’ 

Yes it was a long time to wait. I’m not sure if I had the  patience to last that long. I want him now!

I want us to be like a couple of naughty teenagers and sneak off to an empty room for some illicit fun. I could easily cope doing it quickly in the cleaning cupboard, pressed hard against the linen sheets and toilet rolls if push came to shove. I know that’s a Christmas party cliché, but I’m gagging for a bit of wickedness right now. 

Would anyone notice our departure? Would Jerry notice? Although he does have his beady little eyes on me tonight for one reason or another.

‘It can be lonely locking up at night, with just a skeleton staff on hand,’ Pascal said as he filled up my drink.

‘That’s a pity.’ I sipped my drink, ‘Couldn’t you ask any of your staff for help to get off early?’

I’m not sure if my sympathic charm was sincere or not, but he looked appreciative with my concern. Especially when he caught me looking at his bulge. Oh well, the time of being furtive is over, I guess.

‘Everyone has their own duties to perform,’ he replied, 

standing up straight so that I could get a better view of his trousers snake.

‘That sounds interesting.’

‘It can be,’ he coughed. The strain looked immense as it grew bigger and bigger.

‘So when do you perform?’ I asked in a naughty, yet verbal inverted comma comment, as my eyes lingered on his trapped twitching anaconda. 

‘Unfortunately the only time I can perform is when my shift finishes.’

‘Aw, that’s a shame.’

‘Yes it is. As they say, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.’

But you’re not dull. Naughty and flirty, but not dull. And as the Americans would say, I could Jack you off in my mouth anytime.

‘Well I must excuse myself and get on and do some work,’ Pascal said as he inadvertently adjusted himself. 

‘Yes, I can’t be selfish and have you all to myself, now can I?’

‘The night’s not over yet,’ he winked as he walked away.

Cheeky git. And what did that mean? Does he know something that I don’t know? Did I go too far with the flirting? Was I that obvious? And do I care?

Just as I tried to comprehend the conversation, Pascal then turned around and gestured to me that Jeremy was about to come my way.

‘Hello Mrs Banks,’ Jeremy smiled as he placed his glass on to the table next to mine.

‘We’re definitely passed the Mrs Banks phase,’ I said as I suggestively crossed my legs, giving him a quick glimps of the tops of my black stockings.

‘I believe we are.’

‘Are you having a good time tonight? I asked innocently. 

‘Yes I am. It’s been fun getting to know everyone. And you?’ 

‘Yes. The same.’

‘If I haven’t said this already, you look lovely tonight.’

Again, he touched my knee. 

‘Thank you,’ I replied. ‘And you look lovely in your suit.’ We both laughed. 

‘What’s so funny?’ Jerry suddenly appeared and sat down opposite us.

‘Just a silly joke,’ I said as I sipped on my drink.

‘I have to say Jerry that I’ve had a wonderful time tonight and have been looked after very well. You certainly deserve my business.’

‘That’s good to hear.’ The men shook hands in agreement. ‘I hope we can sign contracts soon and we’ll be seeing more of you in the new year?’ Jerry asked.

‘Yes indeed.’ Jeremy glanced at me. ‘You’ll definitely be seeing more of me.’

‘That’s great.’ Jerry stood up and shook Jeremy’s hand again. ‘I hope you don’t mind but I’m going to head upstairs. Is it OK if Carol keeps an eye on you for the rest of the night?’

‘It will be a pleasure,’ Jeremy grinned.

‘Great. I’ll see you later my dear,’ Jerry leant over and kissed me on the cheek. ‘It must be the champagne that’s making me tired.’

‘He’s not used to the bubbles,’ I joked.

‘I completely understand,’ Jeremy said. ‘I’m not really a champagne kind of guy either. Give me a Jack Daniels any day.’

‘Hey, me too!’ The guys hugged in agreement and to say goodnight.

‘And I won’t keep your wife up too late,’ Jeremy smiled.

‘I don’t mind,’ I butted in. ‘The night isn’t over yet. There’s still more dancing to do!’

‘On that note, I’ll let you two disco divas to dance the night away whilst I go to the Land of Nod.’ Jerry waved us farewell as he headed off to say his goodnights to his team. 

I then caught Pascal watching Jerry as he waved to everyone and stepped in to the lift. He then turned to me, smiled and nodded knowingly.

‘I believe I have permission to look after you tonight Mrs Banks,’ Jeremy said as he gently slipped his hand around my waist and led me back to the dance floor. 

‘I believe you do.’

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 35

Dear Diary. 

With the festivities fully underway and an attentive team of waiting staff had cleared away the first course, the fun was about to begin.

Being the perfect host, I positioned Jeremy to my right side as I was on a mission to keep an eye on him (which wasn’t that difficult as he was extremely easy on the eye) and still maintain my position with one of Jerry’s colleagues sat to my left. 

As predicted, there were lots of business buzz words, financial predictions and figures being thrown about the room (though sadly, not my gym sculpted figure, helped by my new personal fitness instructor, Marco).

As high expectations of what the year ahead could bring to the company, along with the possibility of new clients joining us, as well as welcoming investments from all of the four cash collecting corners of The City, there seemed to be a throng of positive vibes floating around the table, along with an ever flowing fountain of free drinks overspilling into everyone’s thirsty glasses. 

It was great to see the team had made an effort with their outfits, especially the men, as they looked rather dapper in their smart, yet casual appearance, compared to their usual grey, workaday uninspiring uniform. 

The women, all glammed up in their best finery (possibly with the help of a glam squad behind the scenes) were not as wet as usual. They were merrily joining in with the articulate  conversation as they had cleverly picked up some of the lingo over the years and had acquired some insight as to what was going on in within the company, the politics and the goals, having had many nightly pillow talk sessions with their husbands.

I, on the otherhand, took a moment to step back and let the party goers entwine over their feast as I turned my attentions to Jeremy. 

I knew it was a crucial part of the evening to entertain our important guest, as Jerry and I had already discussed this earlier and as to what my role was for tonight. 

I already had a chat with the gent to my left as it was always lovely to catch up with him and find out what he’s been doing over the past year. And now it was Jeremy’s turn to embrace my energy.

‘I have to admit that you’re not what I was expecting,’ I unintentionally blurted out as I sipped on a glass of champagne. Damn. And there goes our contract!

‘Really?’ Jeremy replied as he gazed intently in to my eyes. ‘And what did you imagine I’d be like?’ The bronzed skinned God from the dessert questioned me as his smooth, deep voice escaped from his smiling lips.

‘I mean,’ I spluttered. ‘Please don’t take offence,’ I held my hand up, ‘but I assumed you’d be older. More middle aged.’

He laughed heartily. ‘Don’t assume anything until you have the facts in your hand, my dear. That’s the first rule of business.’

Oh, I’d gladly have your ‘facts’ in my hand any day. 

‘Yes, I may not act or look like the typical city boy as everyone expects, especially as my surname and appearance don’t match, but,’ he quickly looked around the room, ‘don’t tell anyone as that’s what keeps people on their toes.’

‘Ah,’ I blushed. ‘So are you based in London? Sorry, just being curious.’

‘It’s good to be curious,’ he rested his strong, yet clearly a moisturised pen pushing I-have-so-much-money-that-people-do-what-I-want-when-I-want kind of hand on my knee and leant in. ‘Ask me anything you like,’ he whispered.  

‘Anything?’

‘Anything.’

Oh dear. That’s will definitely get me in to trouble, won’t it?

‘How are we doing over there?’ Jerry asked, again, interrupting another private moment with a gusset sniffing man pecking at my feet.

Is he doing that on purpose tonight?

‘All good Jerry.’ Jeremy raised his glass to him. ‘You’re lovely wife is looking after me very well.’ 

He gently squeezed my knee, looked at me and smiled, ‘Very well indeed.’ 

Jerry raised his glass back and continued talking to a lady to the left of him.

‘You didn’t answer my question,’ I said to Jeremy.

‘And what was that?’ His hand moved slightly up my inner thigh. 

Is he playing games with me or just winding me up?

‘Are you based in London?’

‘Ah. Not as such. I have an apartment over looking the Docklands, a house in Mayfair and several places in Dubai and the South of France. Some of them I rent, some of them I stay in whilst travelling.’

‘Ooh. I see you’re well travelled then?’

‘Yes, you can say that.’ He sipped on his drink. ‘I do like to see the world.’

Want to see anything of mine?

‘That’s nice,’ I said as the main course was served. 

The meal was delicious and sumptuous, just as you would see in a Charles Dickins novel. I had the full Christmas dinner experience with a variety meats, vegetables and trimmings, whilst some of the guests were able to choose from an alternative menu as the hotel also catered for everyone’s taste and dietary needs. 

I know this maybe a long shot, but do you think they’d be able to cater for my ‘special’ needs? 

Is there a secret starters menu hidden beneath the counter in a brown paper bag, offering a variety of saucy dips where I could dunk some virile, eager lickable party sausages, packaged in tight designer underwear, all ready to stuff one’s wanton face with? 

How about for mains, a selection of big schlong studs with shiny six packs and bottoms you could bounce on, laid out on a buffet table, all hard, throbbing and meaty ready to give me a good old fashioned stuffing? 

Or a sweet, tarty flavoured tag team for desert, only to finish off with a special creamed Irish coffee to cool down my chaffed chuff after such a hearty meal for one?

Or do I have to discretely ask Pascal for an ‘extra pillow?’ Although I couldn’t possibly do that. I may be an easy lay, with my legs open for business twenty four seven, but I don’t want any Tom, Dick or Harry going grocery shopping in my exclusive premises.

I may be deemed as a hot wife, but if I want to give out any credit to their flexible friends, some kind of discretion is needed to keep up my socially acceptable appearance. 

And anyway, one, I don’t pay for sex and never will. I do have more self worth than that! Though I’m not knocking the oldest profession in the world as what I’m doing may seem stupid to those working girls and guys as I’m giving it away for free.

But I’m lucky as I don’t have to ply for business (as Michael is potentially my pimp) as I can easily find a man on my own to ease my southern scratch and fill my holes. 

And two, where would we go? I couldn’t bring a guy back to our room as Jerry would be there! 

Jerry’s not in to that kind of thing. He’s a strictly a ‘milk, milk, lemonade’ kind of guy. Predictable, methodical and boring. Experimental does not appear in his vocabulary when it comes to playing between the sheets.  

And once he’s had his way, he’s straight off to dreamland, leaving me wanting more!

Talking of more, the ping pong flirting session between Jeremy and I continued over the main meal and desert, where I found out that he was single (well, a wedding ring doesn’t stop me from getting what I want, does it?) and to some effect on what he does for a living.

I’m not sure if he said something to do with hedge funds or venture capital, but to be honest, I wasn’t really listening. My mind was on other things as to how big is his cock and what is he was like in bed?

As I’ve had a lot to drink and my inhibitions were weakened, I bravely rested my hand on his muscular exercised thigh from straddling horses at Polo whilst we nibbled on the cheese and biscuits.

His reaction didn’t quivver as I gently glidded my fingers very slowly up his leg towards his groin. Ooh. He dressed to the left!

‘Did you enjoy the meal?’ Jerry asked Jeremy as he poured himself another glass of wine. 

‘I did indeed,’ Jeremy replied, as I could feel his cock start to grow underneath the tight designer material.

‘We’re all going to the bar for a few drinks now, so that they can get the room ready for our disco. Are you coming?’

‘Not yet, but I’m sure I will,’ Jeremy coughed as my fingeres explored his swolen bulge. 

‘That’s great,’ Jerry said. ‘Do you fancy a drink dear?’

‘Yes please,’ I said, relinquishing my hold. ‘I’ll have my usual.’ I then turned to Jeremy. ‘Are you coming  with?’

‘Not quite yet. I just need to make a quick call. You two go ahead. I’ll meet you in the bar.’

Meaning that he had to let his hard on cool down before getting up. 

‘OK,’ I smiled as I grabbed Jerry’s arm. ‘Come on mister. Let’s get the party started.

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 34

Dear Diary.

After nibbling away on a tray laden with a delicious array of pre dinner appetisers whilst lounging on the sumptuous king size double bed covered in a variety of silks, satins and damasks, we finally managed to pull ourselves off from the comfy love making machine and got ready for our dinner.

With so many ‘Are you ready yet?’ coming from an impatient Jerry pacing about in the next room and with my replies of, ‘In a minute,’ calling over the many clothes hangers that were strewn across the floor from performing a mini fashion show for one, my decision was finally made. It wasn’t difficult, but it came down to an all time classic. A little black dress. 

Yes, I know that sounds boring and clichéd, but this little number was different as it had a very daring plunging neck line which accentuated my breasts perfectly and it was a lot shorter in length than what I’m used to.

Though being a hot wife (even if Jerry still doesn’t know that yet) it does give me the excuse and the benefits of being able to experiment with my wardrobe and push those all important barriers on each seasonal collection I introduce to my walk in wardrobe, as well as turning the right kind of heads around town.  

I’ve also been very artistic with my accessories and created a vintage designer looking belt made from several old gold chains and embellishments which I  bought from some charity shops (as I do love a bargain) to resemble an 1980’s Chanel look, with a  matching bracelet. I didn’t want to wear a necklace as I wanted to keep my look chic and classic, plus I wanted all the sexy men to gawp at my braless breasts and dream of burying their heads in them instead of being preoccupied with a bauble around my neck.

And of course, I slipped on a pair of black high heeled Manolo Blahniks to make my legs look good as they were seductively covered in my silky black seamed stockings, just to finish off the look! Well, it would have been rude if I hadn’t worn them, wouldn’t it?

Jerry looked smart in his dark blue colourful lined Paul Smith suit and flowered shirt. It was something that I picked out for him a few weeks ago as otherwise he would have worn a boring business suit as usual. Possibly in black or brown. And as it’s the party season, I wanted Jerry to sparkle, look a bit different from his normal office uniform and stand out from the sea of grey. 

Wanting to be early to greet our guests (I hate being late as you may well know) Jerry and I went downstairs to the bar and we picked up a glass of bucks fizz that were merrily bubbling away on the counter, ready for us and our party guests to sip on as a pre dinner drinkie.  

As I grabbed my drink, I noticed that the sexy young guy who ushered us to our room was now helping out behind the bar. So luckily for me, I had some eye candy for a few minutes and had a chance to practice my flirting techniques.

I raised my glass to him and thanked him for helping us out. He smiled back, blushed and quickly turned away, dropping his tea towel on the floor. Aw, bless him. 

Nice arse, I thought as he bent over to pick the cloth off the floor. Will have to check out his bulge later to see if it was worth investigating. I’m sure a young stud like him will have a strong metabolism and a hard cock to match.

I then turned around and saw Pascal, who approached us with open arms. Now his bulging trouser snake looked like it needed some seasonal attention. Jingle all the way, I say! 

‘My, my,’ he smiled. ‘You both look so lovely.’

‘Thank you,’ Jerry replied, puffing his chest out like a proud peacock showing off his plumes. 

‘But you, my dearest,’ Pascal turned to me and kissed me on the cheek, ‘You look best of all.’ His hand rested on my hip and gently stroked it. I’m sure he was having a feel of my tight suspender strap underneath the soft material.

‘Oh stop it,’ I mockingly protested, still letting him to have a cheeky feel. ‘I bet you say that to all the women.’

‘Au contraire. You look ravishing, doesn’t she Jerry?’

Jerry knocked back his drink and nodded in agreement as he spotted one of his team members coming through the door.  

‘Best leave him to do the social thing tonight. I’m here to look after his potential new client.’

‘Are you indeed?’ Pascal moved in closer. His heavy cologne enveloped our intimate space.

‘Yes. He’ll need my full attention.’

‘Mmm. Sounds fun. I bet you’ll look after him very well.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ I said innocently as I reached over and picked up another glass of bucks fizz and accidentally letting one of my boobs fall loose under my dress. 

‘I’m sure you will,’ he smiled, glacing down at my breasts without any shame or trying to hide his wandering brooding eyes.

‘Hey they’re here,’ Jerry called out as he beckoned me over to meet his work colleagues. I’m not sure if I were saved by Jerry or if he had dashed my hopes of seeing how far Pascal was prepared to go.

Anyway, I still have the whole evening to see if anything untoward may follow or that Pascal is just a professional flirt with wandering hands.

Anyhow, it was good to see Jerry’s team once again with the usual pleasantries exchanged over the clinking of glasses before being escorted to our private dining room. 

With gasps of delight coming from our guests as we entered the beautifully decorated room, where the twinkly fairy lights weaved their magically dainty way through the mystical streams of ivy and the ethereal festooned garlads, I seated our guests down before Jerry and I took our place.

I made sure that Jerry and I were on opposite ends of the table, so that we didn’t hog the conversation all to ourselves. Plus it’s good ettiquette for the hosts to be split up so that they can make their guests feel more comfortable.

Obviously I made sure that Jeremy Tarkington Smythe, the golden boy of the evening, was sat next to me as it was my job to keep him entertained for the evening. 

But unfortunately he was running late due to some meeting or another, so we had to start the dinner without him. Which wasn’t long as he turned up in a fragrant cloud of Absolu Aventus just as we were about to tuck in to our starters.

Well, what can I say? Any preconceived ideas of who I’d thought he’d look like, just going by his name, instantly went out of the Winter Wonderland window.

This wasn’t the guy I was expecting. I had pictured a middle aged, non descript man, decked out in a navy pin striped suit with a full stomach from over enjoying copious of good lunches and a set of rosey Brandy enhanced cheeks. 

Or at least a swauve, cash flashing Chelsea Boy with floppy hair and proudly sporting a blazer with his old school tie flapping in the wind. 

Oh no. 

This man who was standing at the doorway was something else! Something completely different, interesting, magnetic and strangely entrancing. 

From the moment he entered the room, his alpha aura oozed power and danger, emasculating the room with his exciting electric energy.  

A tingle of nervousness slithered across my twitching minge, like a bolt of lightning homing in on my lace covered cunt, only to send sparks of shock waves up my trembling tubes to target my erogenous zones. 

I gasped as the lights caught his tanned, chiselled face. And so did some of the wives too. Bitches. 

Whoever delivered this magnificent man from the golden sands of the Sahara dessert, I’m definitely going to let him fill my bucket and build some amazing castles with his loaded spade.

Welcome Jeremy! 

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 33

Dear Diary. 

Having been escorted to our room by a sexy young, yet shy stud and having unpacked our luggage, Jerry and I pleasured ourselves by sipping on our complementary Veuve Clicquot champagne whilst partaking in a pampering session in the expansive rolled top bath that proudly sat in the middle of the opulent, gold encrusted, Midas touched bathroom.

With the luxurious fragrant Frédéric Malle’s Portrait of a Lady bath suds enveloping our bodies, Jerry let slip that he had invited a new client to the dinner tonight. A City Boy millionaire hedge fund manager who’s looking to find a larger accountancy firm that could handle his group of investors and has been told that we’re trustworthy, experienced and are more than capable to tender to his books and needs, as such.

‘It’s important that we make him feel comfortable and welcome,’ Jerry said. ‘After all, he will be bringing a lot of new business to the company.’

‘I’m sure he will,’ I replied idildy as I delicately lifted my manicured foam covered foot from the over flowing bubbles.

‘I want you to be nice to him. Make him feel part of our family. You’re always good at making people feel relaxed in your company.’

If only he knew!

‘Of course I will. You know you can always rely on me to do that for you.’

We both leant forward in the soapy water and chinked the antique gold rimmed glasses. 

‘So why does he want us to look after him?’ I asked innocently. ‘Surely there are much bigger companies in town who could easily accommodate his business. Not that I’m complaining.’

‘We’ve been highly recommended by other clients who are friends of him. Apparently he’s been looking for another company for a while now as he wants to expand his portfolio, plus I’ve heard that he doesn’t get on with his current accountancy team either. Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve been told in secret that the current firm that he’s using, you know the ones where Jacob and Robert transferred from last year, that they’re not as approachable as we are, nor as relatable. I guess being people friendly really does help with business.’

I should say!

‘Has he signed any contracts with you yet?’

‘No not yet. And that’s why it’s important that we make his night unforgettable and enjoyable.’

Well I can do that, can’t I?

Jerry leant back at his end of the bath and smiled. ‘I think 2025 is going to be a good year for us.’

‘I do hope so. You so deserve it Jerry as you work really hard.’

‘And you do too. I hope you’ll find that other shop soon.’

‘Thanks. I do have a few contenders in mind. I’m even considering a branch in Cheshire after chatting to some of the ladies up there.’

‘Oh, that’s news to me.’

‘I know. As I sat there watching all of those fashion shows and looking for new designers the other week, I was checking out what the women were wearing and noticed how much money they were throwing about. It makes some of our Surrey lot seem like poorpers. There are so many potential customers up there who’d love our style.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. In the meantime, I’m going to put that on the back burner just in case I can’t find a local store down here. In the New Year, I’m going to have another look in the area and see if any are suitable for what I want. You’re more than welcome to come along.’  

‘Thanks. It may be best for me to wait until you make a short list and then I’ll come with you. I know you’re more than capable of what you want, but I want to be there to support you.’

On hearing those lovely words, I leant forward and kissed Jerry lightly on the lips. ‘I love you so much,’ I whispered. 

‘I know. And I do too.’

I sat there on my hunches and massaged Jerry’s chest. 

‘Stop it,’ he smiled. ‘We haven’t got time for that.’

‘Not even a quicky? Right here in this bath?’

What am I saying? I’ve never been like this before with Jerry. It must be the champagne talking. Yes, that’s it.

Jerry gasped as I grabbed his growing cock.

‘No,’ he grunted as my well practised hands carefully massaged his wet tool. 

Did he notice any difference with my technique or was he simply happy as he laid there, closeted in pure bliss?

‘Stop it,’ he protested in a mock, hushed tone. Though his words didn’t match his body as he still let me play with his cock. 

‘Are you sure?’ I purred.

‘Erm,’ he murmured. ‘Yes. No. I don’t know.’

I continued to gently rub him until a jet of white spunk arched out of the water.

‘There’s a good boy,’ I said as I finished him off, just before I got out of the water as I didn’t want to become contaminated my his man juice.

Jerry simmered smugly in his spunk soup with a smile on his face as I grabbed a large fluffy towel to dry myself off.

‘Have you decided on what to wear tonight?’ I asked as I wiped the fragrant foam from my glistening body.

‘I might wear my blue suit,’ he said. ‘It depends on what you’re going to wear as I don’t want us to clash.’

‘Hark at you Christian Lacroix!’

‘Who?’

I laughed. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ l leant down and kissed him on his bald head. ‘You can wear what you like.’ 

‘Thanks. And what delights have you got in store for me?’

‘You’ll have to wait and see.’ I seductively let the towel drop on to the shiny marble floor and slipped on the white fluffy dressing gown.

‘I’m going to watch tv for a bit before getting ready. Would you like me to call room service to send up some sandwiches?’ I asked. ‘I’m starving.’

‘That will be lovely. But won’t it spoil the dinner for tonight?’

‘No. I’m just feeling peckish.’ Hoping that the young stud will make a return appearance so that I can get another look at his tight arse. I wonder if he’s working tonight? Or perhaps looking after us? I’ll have to ask Pascal discreetly as not to come across like an eager coogar.

‘I won’t be long,’ Jerry called out. ‘I’m just going to lay here for a bit.’

‘That’s fine. Take your time as you’ve got a busy night ahead of impressing people and talking business.’

‘And don’t forget you’ll be working too, as such.’

Oh yes I will, but not as you may think. 

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 32

Dear Diary. 

It’s the day of Jerry’s Christmas dinner.

We’re staying in an exclusive suite for the night where our meal is being held in one of his clients’ plush, privately owned boutique hotel that’s hidden within the seductive shadows of those intimidating silver, nondescript skyscrapers which creates the concrete and glass bouquet of the City of London.

This is an ideal location for everyone as it’s central for most of his work colleagues to travel to or to stay over as the hotel have given us a considerable discount on their rooms, plus we can get all glammed up and partake in a few festive drinkies without having the worry about transportation or indeed, how to get home in one piece. 

I still haven’t decided on what to wear, so I’m taking my Louis Vuitton matching luggage set and stuffing them with a selection of outfits. That way, I can choose the perfect outfit, which will depend on what mood I’m in. And recently, as you know, my mood has been rather hot. Spicy hot! 

We, I mean Jerry, has pulled the boat out and hired a chauffeur for the evening who will be picking us up at our house at 4pm, which will give us enough time to gracefully sail through Olde London Town in style and check in to our luxury lodgings for 5pm. 

The dinner isn’t booked until 8pm, along with pre drinkies and nibbles in the bar, so that will give us a few hours to relax, use the hotel’s facilities and faff about as always.  

Normally, the meal is relaxed and informal, though can be a bit boring, even when some of the men do bring along their bland, yet pleasant wives to mix up the staid ambiance, the conversation generally revolves around domestic chit chat about house, home and hobbies, along with the ubiquitous effervescent work talk about portfolios, stocks, bonds and financial forecasts flowing over the champagne bubbles. But it wasn’t this time. 

Let me set the scene. 

We arrived on time to the hotel, where we were greeted at the rose lined entrance by Pascal, the gracious and handsome, silver slicked back hair Italian owner. We’ve met a few times at various functions and he’s always been pleasent and a joy to be around. A real charmer, in fact.

In the past, I’ve never looked at him in a sexual way, as I was an amateur, a meer shadow of myself back then.

But now, though still in my early awareness period where the Spring bloom of my wants, needs and desires are still wrapped within the protective glistening blanket of the fairy frost, I’m suddenly aware that I’m subtlety checking him out whilst he’s in midflow with Jerry.

I do have to admit that he does look like he’s hiding something fierce within his tight grey pinstripe trousers.

Question.

Is that something for me to investigate, hunt down in this cut throat urban jungle, trap, tackle and control the beast at a later date? Well, that’s something to ponder over whilst enjoying a nice cup of tea and biscuits, isn’t it?

With a hand shake completing their chat, Pascal then turns to me and offers us a festive glass of mulled wine to sample, in earnest for tonight’s festivities. Well, it’s rude not to say no to something that’s hot and wet, is it?

With the Christmas aroma from the drink seeping up my nose and making me feel a bit heady, Pascal takes his chance, closes in and compliments my outfit. 

‘You look radiant my dear,’ he said as he slipped his hand underneath my jacket to gently grip me around the waist, resting his hand on my jeans clad hip. ‘Doesn’t she Jerry?’

‘Yes she does.’ He raised his glass to me. ‘I’m a very lucky man.’

‘Indeed you are.’ Pascal  gently squeezed my waist, still leaving his hand in place. ‘A very lucky man.’

As always, Pascal’s plays the perfect host who knows what to say and how to please his customers. 

Well, I’ve not been there yet, so let’s see if he’s that pleasing, shall we?

I think he must like my new style. Yes, that must be it. What else can it be? Am I now giving out secret signals that only randy men can decipher?

‘Thank you,’ I joined in with the compliments, allowing our host to enjoy the moment.

It’s nice to know that I’m still attractive at my age. Well, Michael and Steve already know that, don’t they?

Although saying that, it’s rather a turn on with a guy holding me intimately in front of my husband who’s oblivious of the sexual chemistry bubbling away between us. 

‘There’s something different about you. But I can’t seem to put my finger on it,’ Pascal smiled.

No, but you’ve got all five of them clinging on to me, you dirty bastard!

‘I’ve also said that,’ Jerry harped in, ‘haven’t I?’

‘Yes you have, often,’ I replied. ‘Though nothing has changed except for my wardrobe.’

‘That must be it.’ Pascal released his hold but ‘accidentally’ slid his hand across my arse to cup a sneaky feel.

‘Yes, I have been treating myself to a new look. Mid life crisis and all that,’ I joked.

I twirled around to show off my pert arse framed perfectly in my skinny tight jeans that were tucked into my black knee high heeled boots (very Eastern European in style) with a flimsy cream silk blouse barely covered by a heavily embroidered black jacket.

‘And you’re worth every penny,’ Jerry smiled.

I smiled back. 

‘Of course I am,’ I said, interacting with their macho banter. ‘Although I’m not just a walking clothes horse you know.’

‘Of course you’re not,’ Jerry stepped in and kissed me on the cheek, obviously to keep me on his side. ‘And I’m very proud of you too.’

‘Thank you.’ I looked through the steam of my drink to Pascal who was clearly staring back at me. I guess trying to catch a glimpse of my boys flowing free underneath my silk blouse.

‘Are you ready to see what we’ve done for you?’ Pascal asked as he ushered us to a private dining room hidden behind a shabby looking bookcase to see if we were happy with the table setting and the artful decorations that I had specified. It was. And more! 

‘Oh Pascal. You’ve out done yourself. Truly,’ I cooed, spinning around in delight.

‘Anything for you,’ he smiled. 

Does he know too? Has ‘he’ seen my pics too? I doubt it. But hmm. I shall keep that last comment in mind. It may come in handy one day. 

‘Thank you Pascal,’ Jerry said as they shook hands again. ‘We’ll see you later.’

‘I will look forward to that,’ he replied as he kissed my hand. ‘I cannot wait to see more of you.’

#dingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 31

Dear Diary.

Apologies for the delayed entry. 

As of writing, we’re in mid of Surrey Fashion Week and the start of the party season, so my online business and my two shops have been so busy with the local social elite ladies wanting their winter collection of Christmas outfits, it’s been a challenge to grab five minutes of peace amongst the who’s-wearing-what hubbub.

I mustn’t complain though, as the sales for this last quarter of the year (if luckily enough) can balance out our quieter periods. So how ever many hours I need to work now, it will be worth it in the end.

And inbetween all of this chaos, I still have to show up and be seen to attend local functions as well as Jerry’s work’s christmas dinner, which is very important for the both of us. 

He always treats his team to a georgous meal in some fancy London restaurant, as well as giving them a long break over the holidays.

I have to admit that Jerry does look after his team very well with his basket of benefits, such as performance related Christmas bonuses, events held throughout the year and deals on discounts with local businesses. And because of all of that, his team do repay him with their loyalty as some have been with him practically from the start.

As you can see dear diary, I haven’t had any fun for a while. Not since poker night. And that was nearly a month ago! 

It’s not intentional as Steve and Michael have their own busy lives to lead and Jerry has seemed to have gone off the boil in that department. Well, he has with me. 

I hope Michael isn’t bored with me either. I’m sure he’s not as we’ve been messaging each other on a regular basis, though he is away with Sara for a pre Christmas break at the moment. So I’m guessing that he has to be careful there and stay in her good books.

So in the meantime, I’ve been chatting to other guys on that swingers website, but nothing definite has come from that yet. Just a flurry of messages, picture swaps and the odd faceless video chats.

I must admit that some of the guys on there have mighty appendages that makes my mouth water and my pussy pulse. It’s a pity that they’re miles away. But there are a few local lads who seem to be genuine and may become ‘new friends’ in the new year. I just need to bind my time and keep my head down. And oh, I wish I could keep my head down on them!

Yes, I do miss that salty fluid, ruing my designer lipstick,  running down my throat and across my chin. 

And because I’ve succumbed to the taste of their manly naughtiness and substances, I need, nay crave, to be frequently lubricated as I don’t want my lady garden to become shrivelled up like a dried up prune down there, do I?

I did dress up in a slutty outfit and drove to that ‘special’ car park on my own the other night and waited around in case anyone popped by, but sadly no one turned up. It could have been too cold to play outside or just my bad luck. Oh well, never mind. Their loss.

I don’t know what has come over me recently, but I have to admit that I have changed somewhat. Could it be that I’ve become enlightened by the call of the cock and need my tank to be filled with men’s natural petrol?

I don’t know if it’s due to the blossoming of my sexual desire with my awakening of the penetrative pumping of the penis, but some may say that my outlook to life has changed. Or some will say I’ve become a slut.

For starters, I’ve become less inhabited with my dress sence. I’m now sporting a more relaxed and casual style with revealing lines and sensual materials that accentuates my gym fit body and legally just about covers my new sexy lingerie that hide beneath. 

But whatever has happened to me, from my new style in clothes, my haircut or my boost of confidence, Jerry has noticed something different in me. He keeps saying that something has changed and he can’t put his finger on it, but he’s definitely keeps paying me attention and compliments me. 

I can’t complain about that, can I, as it’s always a boost when a guy says something nice about me. Yes I do get that from strangers online, but it’s more important when they come from Jerry. And as a true lady, I do like to treat my husband like a king and return the compliments.  

Right, I’ve now got to decide on what to wear for Jerry’s Christmas dinner tomorrow night. Shall I go conventional and don my usual classic kind of outfit, or do I dare to break the norm and go for a revealing little number?

I don’t think it will matter as most of his team are, let’s just say, happily married, grey, geeky and boring and they won’t notice any difference. 

Every time we meet at one function or another, they always seem polite and respectful. 

I’ve never spotted a spark of interest in me as they clearly see me as the boss’ wife and I’m guessing, wouldn’t dare to go there. But back then, I didn’t recognise any of the signs. I still don’t, but it’s fun learning!

Though it’s a good job too that we have to keep it professional as there are some lines we mustn’t cross. We need to keep our barriers closed and locked, however horny we may feel. 

And I’m one horny bitch on heat.

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 30

Dear Diary.

It’s late and we’re back home.

Somehow I managed to get Jerry in to bed. He was half asleep when we left Steve’s, so at least he was able to walk, or I should say stumble.

Luckily Steve leant me one of his shirts to wear to take Jerry home as mine was too see through and I didn’t want Jerry to suspect anything or why I was wearing something so daring.

I will have to wash the shirt and give it back to Steve quick before Jerry finds it. Though if he did ask, I could always say that it was a new design from the shop. It’s a good job that he doesn’t know anything about fashion so he wouldn’t know if I were lying or not, would he? 

So with Jerry tucked up in bed, I need to have a quick shower as I still had Steve and Michael’s dried cum over me.

I can’t believe what had happened. I was such a  naughty girl, especially as Jerry was in the next room, but I had a great time and can’t wait to do that again. And now I know where Steve lives, I can always pop over for some afternoon fun, can’t I?

Ping. 

Who’s this? I check my phone and it’s from Michael. 

Ping. ‘Did we have fun tonight, my little slut?’

‘Yes. I can’t wait to do it again.’

Ping. ‘That’s good to know. The video came out well and you looked like you were enjoying yourself.’

‘I did. I had a great time. Steve’s a lovely guy.’

Ping. ‘I’m glad you got along.’

‘I didn’t have much choice, did I?’

Ping. ‘Ha ha. Yes you two did click.’

‘I’m looking forward to meeting him again. Perhaps you could find me another black guy with a big cock?’

Ping. ‘Well I’ve sent some of the video to a few guys, so let’s see what comes of it.’

‘Oh really? And you didn’t bother to send it to me?’

Ping. ‘All in good time slut. I need to see the reaction from the guys.’

‘So how many are on your list?’

Ping. ‘About ten so far. They loved the previous pics. Especially of you dogging.’

‘Wow. Really?’

Ping. ‘Yes. They’re so hot. I’ll send some over to you.’

‘Thanks.’

Ping. ‘And I’m guessing that the guys are sharing the new video too with their friends!’

‘Let me know what they think.’

Ping. ‘Will do. In the meanwhile, he’s a nice picture.’

Ping. 

Oh. I wonder what picture he’s sent me?

I look at my phone and saw a clever edited picture of me and Steve caught in mid action, though from a different perspective. 

Apparently, whilst we were in the throngs of passion, Michael sneaked out of the bedroom and took a shot from behind Jerry, through the open bedroom door with me with my legs in the air and Steve pumping away. 

It looks as if Jerry is watching, but he was asleep at the time. From that angle, Jerry wouldn’t be able to see in, but Michael managed to capture the side of him, giving it the impression of us being watched by my husband. Poor Jerry. 

So that’s why he wanted the door open. The sneaky bastard. 

‘That’s a clever pic.’

Ping. ‘Thanks. And there’s more to come. Plenty more.’

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 29

Dear Diary.

With his glistening dick swaying in front of me and my moist mouth aching from massaging his pendulous appendage, I leant back on to the matress of love and opened my legs. 

Steve bent over me and guided his cock to meet my wet pussy lips.

He gently dabbed my pussy with his cock, leaving traces of his juices around my opening before diving into me. 

‘Fuck me,’ I begged, yearning for him to fill me. 

I gasped as he slowly slid his cock in me. I wasn’t used to anything this size before, so I tried to relax my inner muscles to accommodate his tunneling machinery as it stretched my hole.

Deeper and deeper his excavation continued as he gently edged his way to heaven. 

‘Oh yeah,’ I moaned along to his slight back a forth movements within me.

‘Are you OK?’ He asked. ‘Am I hurting you?’

‘No. Keep going.’ 

‘Yeah, keep going,’ Michael joined in as he zoomed in closer to film Steve’s wet cock slipping in and out of me. 

I had the urge to grip on to Steve’s back with my legs and pull him in tight, but I also wanted to put on a good show for Michael too! 

So for art, I had to suffer in silence and let the maestro do his filming whilst being fucked senseless by Steve. 

‘Turn her over as I want to film her on all fours.’

Steve pulled out and maneuvered me to the desired position.

I’m now hunched across the bed as Steve slips in me from the back. I lift my head up and moan.

‘That’s it. Good girl,’ Michael said as he walks around us, moving in and out for the best shots. ‘Fuck her hard.’

The noise from the bedroom has increased as to where I thought I heard movement from the lounge.

Michael pops out to check.

‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘He’s still asleep.’

Michael now stands in front of me, edging closer to capture my sex face.

I can see his bulge in his pants getting bigger and bigger.

Not wanting to disappoint, I reach out and pulled his pants down with one hand. Michael gladly helped with his other hand and tossed them away.

Michael then places his phone on the side table and points it in our direction to capture our rapture.

‘That should do it,’ Micheal said as he walked over to us. ‘And now it’s my turn.’

Micheal moved closer for me to open my mouth and take his cock.

Wow! 

I can’t believe that I’m being spit roasted. It feels marvellous. 

Both of my holes are being pounded and I’m loving it.

‘Yeah, take it bitch,’ Michael puffs as the sounds of slapping flesh reverberated from behind to match the squeaking of the bed.

‘Oh,’ I moaned as Michael’s pre cum slowly slipped down my throat, gently preparing me for the grand finale. His hard cock fucking my face as Steve is fucking my vagina.

‘Harder. Harder,’ I begged as the three of us began our climatic elevation to ecstasy and collapse at the feet of the Gods. 

I wanted to scream out loud so much as each joyful thrust felt like a bolt of lightning, coursing through our sweaty bodies, expanding our energies to  become a powerful unit, where each grunt and grind would have made enough electric for the whole of Surrey. 

The mixture of sweat and sex juices trickled from my pussy as both guys plundered my body and soul.

I could feel the crescendo building as Steve’s cock swelled slightly inside of me, filling the wet walls of my gushing vagina.

‘Argh,’ I yelled as I came on the sheets, followed by the mass eruption of Steve’s exlosive cock, causing a tidal wave inside my aching pussy and Michael gushing like a fireman’s hose in my mouth.

I tried to swallow Michael’s cum, but most of it spilled out of my mouth and on to my chin.

‘Yeah,’ he beamed as he continued to sefishly pump away.

‘Fuck yeah,’ I cried as Steve finally pulled out of me.

Exhausted and covered in cum, I fell on the bed, followed by the guys laying either side of me.

‘Wow. That was great,’ Steve panted.

‘Didn’t I tell you she’d be good.’

‘I am here,’ I giggled. 

‘Yes you are.’ Michael kissed me on the cheek. ‘And you will be again.’

‘I can vouch for that,’ Steve held my boob. ‘Perhaps on another night when Jerry’s not about.’

‘Well I can do day times too,’ I said as Michael gently rubbed my soggy cunt.

‘And you’re going to,’ Michael whispered in my ear.

We all laid there for a few minutes like wet sardines and soaking up the after glow with us all stroking and  kissing until we were disturbed by a distant murmer, ‘Carol. Is that you?’ 

It was Jerry. 

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Dear Diary.

I wouldn’t call it a surprise, not even destiny or providence as I’m guessing the evening had already been planned in advanced, but a wish has come true!

I’m now sitting at the bottom of Steve’s bed dressed in my lingerie with Steve standing in front of me half naked, Michael filming the whole procedure whilst poor Jerry is still tied up to a chair in the next room.

For some reason, Michael has requested for the bedroom door to stay open. That his choice, I guess. I wouldn’t though as I didn’t want Jerry to hear anything  to find out what I’ve been up to.

Anyway, as Steve is now in his tight boxer shorts and only a breath away from my face, Michael has come in close with his phone, wanting to film the big reveal (I mean big) and my reaction.

Have I now been upgraded to being their personal porn star, only to be used by Steve and directed by Michael when ever they want? 

Is Michael now the new Surrey King of Porn, going by his distribution of my pics and videos to all and sundry? 

If so, and if this is a way of Michael finding more guys to fuck me, then let’s see if it works. I can play their game and call their bluff. Though I do have my own freedom of choice as well, don’t I? 

Sure, I’ll let them find more guys for me to play with and I’ll let them think that they’re in control, but I’m the one subliminally giving out the orders. I’m the one pretending to be submissive and playing the role in their little games and let’s not forget this, I’m the one that can say no!  

‘Let’s get the party started,’ Michael said as he walked around Steve and I. 

‘What would you like me to do?’ I asked, playing the innocent woman. 

‘Take your bra and knickers off,’ Michael ordered.

‘Yeah,’ Steve said as he rubbed his bulge. 

‘Are you going to help me?’ I asked Steve.

He needn’t have answered as he pulled me in, grabbed my bra from behind and swiftly unhooked my fastenings like a true expert.

With the loose garment hanging off my boobs, I did a small shrug and let my bra drop to the floor.

‘Oh yeah,’ Steve grinned as he reached out and grabbed my breasts. ‘They’re perfect. Just as good in real life as they are in your pics.’

‘Oh really?’ I looked at Michael. He winked back.

Steve then gently circled my nipples with him thumbs, just as if I were his personal Nintendo game controller.

‘Go on, kiss ’em,’ Michael suggested. 

Without hesitation, Steve leant in and lightly kissed each nipple, teasing my tiny pink erect mounds. 

The back of my hand inadvertently brushed his warm bulge. This didn’t distract him from his licking duties. Steve continued to explore my breasts with his hot lips, puckering them across my pert mounds as his hand wandered down to my covered crack. 

With his fingers rubbing my camel toe, Michael knelt down to film the caressing and briefly joined in the fun with his spare hand. 

‘Ooh,’ I moaned as Steve slipped his thick fingers underneath the flimsy elastic band and pulled down my knickers.

‘Oh yeah,’ I heard Michael cry as he ran his fingers over my wet pussy.

‘Does she taste good?’ Steve asked as Michael licked his moist finger.

‘You tell me.’

Steve took this as the go ahead to kneel before me.

‘She smells good,’ he sniffed as his lips edged closer. I’m so glad that I sprayed down their with my favourite perfume. 

He then kissed my pussy.

Wow. My heart jumped as though a rocket had exploded up my cunt. No one has done that to me for a very long time, so it felt amazing. Truly amazing. Not even Jerry had ventured out of his boring routine to do that. Well, when it comes to sex, Jerry is very vanilla. 

Steve then poked his tongue out and gently circled my vagina lips. ‘And she tastes good too! But I’m hungry and want to have a fanny feast.’

‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

‘Lay on the bed,’ ordered Michael, ‘and open your legs.’

I did as I was told. 

With my legs hunched up and open wide, Steve came closer and teased me by lightly kissing my inner thighs and around the edge of my vagina.

Michael, on the other hand, was filming over Steve’s shoulder, trying to capture a new angle to the film.

With his soft lips moving closer to his goal, Steve started to lick my pussy lips again which made me shudder. 

‘Urgh,’ I groaned as Steve held on to my stocking clad legs. 

Another burst of pleasure shot up my spine from him from finding his target and working his magic on my clitoris. 

‘That’s it Steve. Get right in there,’ Michael said, moving position to get a good view. 

‘Mmm,’ was all I could hear from below as Steve worked wonders by fucking me deep with his tongue. 

‘Keep going,’ I cried as his tongue eased open my hole even further.

Steve lifted his head up, wiped his mouth and smiled. 

‘How was that?’

‘Magic,’ I breathed heavily, reminding him about his cheeky remark that he said to me earlier that evening.

Steve laughed. ‘I’m glad you like my conjuring. Wanna be my glamorous assistant?’

‘I’m already glamorous.’

‘Of course you are. I mean, would you like to play with my magic tricks, even kiss my wand?’

I looked up at Michael to see what he woukld say. ‘Suck him,’ Michael ordered.

‘Yeah slut. Make me cum.’ Steve added.

‘Oh well. If I must!’ I giggled as I pulled down Steve’s pants to unleash a magnificent monster, eight inches of throbbing man flesh, every glossy inch pulsated with perfection.

His cock was georgous. Thick as a cucumber and the longest I’ve ever seen. 

I watched as a bead of juice escaped his tiny cock lips, like a diamond being discovered from the dark caverns of a coal mine. It glistened in the light as the bead of pre cum slowly dripped across his helmet and down his shaft.

I instantly stuck out my tongue as not to waste his substance and let the droplet delicately drip upon my awaiting licking apparatus. He tasted sweet. Again, different from the other guy’s, but hey, I’m not complaining.

I then flicked my tongue over his black tip, exploring his glands and helmet which made him shake. Now who’s in control?

With my right hand as Michael was filming us from the left side, I held his cock and licked his shaft up and down. My lips engorged his rod as if I were munching on a delicious corn on the cob, enjoying each inch as I diligently worked up and down. 

I could see Michael getting excited too, but he would have to wait. At that heated moment, it was all about Steve. 

It was Steve’s turn to have all of my attention. All of me pleasuring him before he pleasured me. Nothing was going to stop me from having my fun. Nothing. 

Groaning away like a proper porn star, I eagerly opened my mouth and just about engulfed his bulbous tip. I couldn’t take him down deep as he was so big, almost to the point of gagging. But I loved every minute of it, even if I was choking.

Though thinking about it, would his ferocious anaconda slither into my sweet pussy easily? Is my lady garden big enough to accommodate his apple gorging snake? 

I don’t want him to ruin me, hurt me and split me into two, do I? I’m sure he wouldn’t do that intentionally. But there were only one way to find out if his turbulent tube would fit into my triangle.

And I couldn’t wait!

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 27

Dear Diary.

As my previous entry states, I’m not complaining, but I’m now alone in a stranger’s flat with Steve and Michael as the rest of the poker players have gone home.

And of course, poor Jerry, who’s still half naked and tied up to a chair. His forfeit for losing poker. 

‘What have you done to Jerry?’ I ask.

I start to go over to release him, but Michael gets in between us.

‘No, not yet.’ His hands grips my waste. ‘Let him sleep it off for a bit longer.’

‘Why? I asked.

‘I have a plan for him. Nothing bad, but I want to try something.’

‘You’re not going to hurt him, are you?’ I look over Michael’s shoulder to him as his head has now flopped down to his chest. He’s snoring away peacefully. Bless him.

‘Of course not. Just something naughty. An idea. That’s all.’

‘OK.’ 

‘You don’t mind, do you?’

‘I have no option, do I?’

Michael smiled. ‘Good girl. Now give us a hug.’

We both embraced. It was lovely to be back in his arms once again as his musky cologne brought back a flood of happy memories of our first intimate bonk on the bonnet.

I was hoping for a repeat performance tonight and going by his wandering hands, perhaps lady luck maybe on my side.

With my head propped on Michael’s shoulder, my gaze turned to Jerry. 

I’m not going to feel guilty about what may happen tonight as Jerry had brought this on himself. If he hadn’t wanted to play poker, then I would never have been in this fabulous position of Michael’s hands sliding up my thighs and grabbing my arse underneath my dress.

‘Now that you’re here, would you like a drink? I mean, of the alcohol variety?’ 

I knew what Michael originally meant. 

‘I can’t as I’m driving. I’ll have a cup of tea, if you’re making?’

‘Not a dark, hot chocolate?’ Steve joined in, insinuating something else. ‘Or something much bigger and stronger?’

I turned around as Steve approaches. Michael’s hands are now cupping my breasts. 

‘It looks like I’m going to have that later, along with some warm cream.’

‘Oh yeah baby. Mouthfuls,’ Steve said.

‘I’m glad you and Steve have hit it off,’ Michael whispered in my ear as he ran his hands over my breasts from behind me. ‘This makes your training much easier.’

‘In what way?’

Michael slowly started to undo my dress buttons to reveal my bra. 

‘In a way that Steve can be part of our school for sluts, our deputy principal and another teacher on our list. And as he’s single with his own place, he’s now just one large probing finger away from tapping on his speed dial to summon you to attend lessons and to expand your curriculum.’

He can expand my lessons any day!

Jerry murmurs still inches away from us, but Michael continues to unbutton me, regardless of Jerry stirring behind him. 

‘I’d love that,’ I groan as Michael grinds his bulge up and down my arse.

Steve steps nearer to me, holds my arms down by my side and says, ‘It gives us more scope for fun.’ His lips brush my neck and lightly kisses it.

I softly moan as Steve releases his hold and I can finally reach out to rub Steve’s huge bulge. It feels thick and enticing. 

‘I see. So am I going to be the slutty filling in your man sandwich?’

Steve lightly kisses me. Our lips connect as he runs his hands all over my excited body.

‘Filling you is the right word.’ Michael grinned as he has now released more of my buttons to reveal my black lingerie.

‘Wow,’ Steve says as his fingers explore my wet, lace covered pussy. ‘So hot. I can’t wait to make love to you.’

‘Not in front of Jerry,’ I begged, enjoying the loving attention from the two sexy hunks. 

The men looked at each other and agreed as my dress slipped to the floor. 

‘Sure,’ Steve said, now back again kissing my neck. ‘We want you for our own pleasure. For now.’

‘Yeah,’ I leant my head back for Steve to kiss me lower and across my glistening décolletage. ‘Oh fuck yeah.’

Jerry then startled us as his snoring started to fill the room. Poor Jerry. 

‘Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,’ Steve said as he held my hand and led me to the bedroom.

‘Are you going to perform some magic for me?’ I joked, referring to an earlier conversation we had.

‘As long as you’re happy being the glamorous assistant?’

‘No arguments here!’  

‘Let’s leave the door open,’ Michael suggested. 

‘Why?’ I asked.

‘Let’s say, for fun.’ Michael then got his phone out and started filming me. 

‘OK.’ Unsure of what he meant, I obeyed his orders, just as a good girl would do at Slut School.  

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 26

Dear Diary.

I’m sat in my car, scantily clad in a provocative outfit, parked outside a random block of flats thinking what am I doing? My husband is drunk and tied up to a chair whilst I’m thinking of having sex with a gorgeous stranger in the next room. Am I nuts? Do I need my head examined? Do I need a brain transfusion? Am I a slut?

Well, there is only one way to find out, isn’t there?

Having buzzed to get into the building, an old man came out and held the door open for me, which was very nice of him. He clearly looked me up and down as I stepped over the threshold and clacked across the shiny marble floor in my four inch black platent court shoes, though I couldn’t blaim him. I must admit that I did look edible, ravishing, though rather tarty.

And by his knowing leer, I’m guessing he’s mistaken me for a lady of the night going by my dress code and clearly not the regular Deliveroo guy! 

As I reached the door, I hesitated, knowing that anything could happen. 

This was my last chance to back away. But I couldn’t leave Jerry like that. It wasn’t right. Poor Jerry.

I knocked on the door and was greeted by Steve.

‘Wow.’ He said, looking at my heaving tits that were bursting through my dress, ‘Come in,’ he gestured, guiding me through the door with his big hand on my bottom.

‘Why thank you,’ I purred, seeing if I could spot Jerry and the rest of the gang through the crack in the living room door. I couldn’t.

‘We’ve been waiting for you,’ Steve smiled as he closed the front door behind me. ‘I’ve heard alsorts about you.’

‘Oh really. I hope all good?’

‘It is to me,’ he whispered as he stepped forward, put his arms around me and kissed me. 

Wow!

It was different from Michael’s kiss, much lighter and affectionate. A gentleman’s kiss that only the heroines in those romantic bodice ripper books would experience. 

‘Great outfit,’ Steve said as he pulled away. I could tell he was happy with my decision, going by the growth in his trousers. His big black snake was trying to escape and sticking out, expressively. I couldn’t wait to see it, hold it, suck it.

I hope the lads in the other room would appreciate my look too. And as it’s the same outfit that I wore in that pub a few weeks ago, I’m hoping that it will arouse the lads to the point of another fondling frenzy. 

‘I hope you like?’ I said running my trembling hands down my body.

‘Yeah I do.’

‘I can see that,’ as I pointed to his bulge, finding it hard to restrain myself from touching it. ‘Looking good too!’

Steve laughed and grabbed his trapped sausage. ‘Oh, can you tell?’

‘Just a tad.’

‘I can’t help it. It’s like a barometer, it swells when it’s getting hot!’

I laughed at his joke. ‘Well, I don’t want to put a dampner on your rising thermostat, do I?’

‘You couldn’t even if you tried.’ 

We both laughed. 

‘Shall we?’ He asked 

‘Shall we what?’

‘Go in!’

‘Go in where?’

‘To the lounge.’

‘Oh. Yes please,’ I breathed.

But we didn’t. 

We kissed again, though more passionately. My hands grabbed his tight arse and pulled him in closer, making our enclosed nether regions greet each other as old friends, though fractionally seperated by the protection of fabric.

‘Let’s go,’ he said as he held my hand and fully opened the lounge door.

Here we go, I thought, trying not to show Steve how nervous I was feeling. I must put on a good show for the lads as I didn’t want to let Michael down. After all, I’m sure he’s planned all of this, the machiavellian mother fucker! 

I was hoping to be greeted by a pack of hungry eyes and a row of hard bulges. I wanted them to ravage my sexy clad body, make me part of their fuck train and enter my tunnel with their steaming pistons, one chug after another. 

But the Duchess of Disappointment had appeared in her finery, only to dampen my dreams. 

I walked in to an empty room, not only to be accosted by the stench of beer and the remains of musty men, but by the sight of poor Jerry, out cold, half naked and still tied to the chair.

‘Where is everyone?’ I asked, as I looked over the spoils of the evening, hoping to find some kind of life lurking underneath the debris of cans and empty packets of crisps.

‘They’ve all gone home, except for us,’ Steve said.

‘And me,’ Michael cheered as he jumped out from the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

‘Oh,’ I said, trying not to sound disappointed, but keeping up the cheerful smile. 

‘I hope that’s OK?’ Steve asked.

Realising who were in front of me, I immediately changed my attitude and smiled, ‘It’s more than OK.’

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 25

Dear Diary. 

I’ve just arrived home and have a few hours to spare before picking Jerry up from poker night.

I’m dreading what state he will be in later and now thinking about it, I should have told him that he could stay over. Never mind.

And I’m also in a quandary as to what to wear when I go back tonight as I have a limited range of slutty outfits to choose from. Plus I don’t want to store them here in the cottage in case Jerry finds them and ask questions. 

I did ‘acquire’ a black suspender belt from our new lingerie range at work, so I could wear that with my black stockings. Well that’s a start.

I could also wear that short black skirt with the tight blouse that I wore the first time I went dogging or that thin, practically see through white dress that I wore at the pub. I’ll see what I decide on once I’ve had a bath. I’ll have to be clean and fresh in case anything untowards happens, won’t I? 

I may need to text Michael when it’s best to come over, or I could have some toast a and a cup of tea first. Yes, that’s best. I’ll have a quick shower, have something to eat as I am feeling a bit peckish and then get dressed for fun. 

A few hours have passed and I’m now slipping in to the white see through dress with my black underwear underneath, I thought it would be easier for the guys to get a good look, when I recieve this message from Michael. 

Ping. ‘Just to let you know, my prediction came true as luck wasn’t on Jerry’s side tonight. He’s had to down a few shots.’

‘A few?’

Ping. ‘Well, many.’

Poor Jerry.

‘How many is many?’

Ping. ‘See for yourself.’

Micheal send a video. 

It was of Jerry, stripped to his underwear and tied to a chair. He was clearly intoxicated and didn’t know what was going on. 

‘What have you done to him?’

Ping. ‘He’s OK. Nothing to worry about. Just a prank. It’s his forfeit as he lost ‘big time’ tonight. I’m looking after him for you.’

‘Thank you.’

Ping. ‘I think you should come and get him now. He’s falling asleep.’

‘On my way and don’t do anything more to him.’

Ping. ‘No I won’t. He’s in safe hands.’

‘See you soon.’

Ping. ‘And remember what I asked you to do?’

‘Yes. I’m already wearing that white see through dress and black undies. I hope you approve, oh masterful one!’

Ping. ‘Yes slut, I do. Good girl. I’m looking forward to seeing you in it. I know Steve is.’

‘Is he?’ My stomach bubbled. ‘And how do you know that?’

Ping. ‘We’ve had a chat about you.’

‘Oh, have you now?’ I wonder what they’ve said? Does Steve want me too? Well he did come on to me a bit earlier, didn’t he?

Ping. ‘Yes. He can’t wait. Nor can I.’

Am I going to have my first threesome with my husband in the next room? Isn’t that risky? Too adventurous?

‘I’ll be there as soon as I can,’ I messaged, trying not to come across too eager. 

Ping. ‘You better as we don’t want Jerry to wake up mid way, do we?’

Mid way? What does that mean? Me as piggy in the middle? A hog on a spit roast? Or being fucked by the two of them and he wakes up and wants to know what’s happening to his innocent and dutiful wife? 

‘No we don’t,’ I politely reply.

Ping. ‘Hurry!’ 

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 24

Dear Diary. 

‘Good evening slut,’ Michael said as I stepped out of the lift.

‘Well hello photo sharer,’ I spat back.

We hugged and kissed, briefly.

‘Ah, I see Steve mentioned that to you then?’

‘Indeed he did.’

Michael grinned.

‘So how many others have you sent those pictures to and do they know who I am?’ I asked.

‘Just a few guys. No one who you know. And no, they don’t know who you are as I’ve cut your face out of the pictures. I have put a picture online the other night to see if there’s any interest for you.’

‘Thanks, I guess.’

‘You’re welcome. Only Steve knows who you are as he’s my alibi sometimes and I needed to thank him for the other night.’

‘Other night?’

‘Yeah I had to pop out unexpectedly.’

Well, that wasn’t with me, was it? So does Michael have other women on the go? Am I being mugged off? Am I part of a harem, Ms Saturday or Ms Sunday, that he can pick up at anytime? Does he have other sluts in training?

‘I see,’ trying not to sound jealous.

‘Now don’t be like that,’ he stepped closer and brushed the hair from my face, ‘I had to go and see some guys from the garage. Nothing interesting, just a personal thing for one of them. You know, guys stuff.’

‘Oh. So no other women?’

‘Not since you.’ He came in for another hug and rubbed my back. ‘Mmm. No bra. Nice. I thought you were happy to see me.’ He stroked my erect nipples as they peeped through my blouse.

I returned the favour and gently rubbed is crotch. 

Two can play that game.

‘Mmm. That’s nice. Suck me now bitch!’

‘Fuck off,’ I laughed as I pushed him away. Although I could have done that, have my own pre drink before tonights festivities, but I didn’t want to be caught on CCTV. 

‘So there have been other women in the past?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And you’re not going to tell me how many?’

‘No. I need to keep up with the mystery.’

‘So am I just another number? Another notch to your bed post?’

‘You’re different,’ he pleaded.

‘I bet you say that to all of your conquests.’

‘No I don’t. You’re special.’

‘OK. I’m not sure if I believe you. And anyway, we have no claims on each other, do we? It’s not as if we’re having an affair. Just a bit of fun, right?’

‘Yeah, just fun. And there’s more to come. You still have more training to do if you still want to be my slut.’

‘Do I?’

‘Yes. We’ve only just started. I’m going to push some boundaries with you, but we will do that a small bit at a time.’ 

Interesting.

He came in for another kiss. A longer one this time. Passionate and hard. Perhaps he was getting horny thinking of my training. Who knows?

It was a good job that a car pulled in to the car park to interrupt us, otherwise I would have let my guard down and things would have been a lot more steamier.

‘I’ll let you know when your next session will be.’

‘I’m honoured.’ I did a curtsey. 

‘You will be. Are we seeing you later?’ He asked.

‘As in what way, seeing me?’

‘Are you coming back or is Jerry staying over?’

‘I’m coming back to pick up Jerry later.’

‘Mmm. Good. In that case, I’m going to give you a mini task. When you come back later, I want you to wear something more sexy, more revealing for the boys.’

‘What about Jerry?’ I asked.

‘I don’t that will suit him.’

‘Very funny.’

‘He won’t notice what you’ll be wearing as he’ll be so drunk.’

‘What do you mean? I hope you’re not going to spike his drinks?’

‘No. He’s going to loose at poker as I’m an expert at it.’

‘I’m sure you are.’

Michael smiled.

‘Well look after him. I don’t want anything bad happen to him.’

Michael crossed his heart. ‘I promise. I’ll be gentle with him. Although I can’t say that about the others.’

‘I hope he’s not going to be your whipping boy.’

‘No mot mine. We may play a few pranks on him when he gets tipsy. Harmless fun.’

‘Thanks. I’d better let you go as I have to change, don’t I?’

‘Yes my little slut, you do.’ 

I turned to get in to my car as Michael called out, ‘And make sure your outfit is super sexy, as I want Steve to notice!’ 

‘Oh he will.’

He most definitely will! 

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 23

Dear Diary. 

It’s so nice to relax and enjoy a cup of tea after spending a successful day indulging in some necessary retail therapy where our triumphant trophies have filled those obligatory glossy card designer bags hanging from the crack in our arms.

It’s been ages since Sara and I mingled with the frenetic Saturday shopping crowd, took time off to beautify ourselves and enjoyed each others company whilst doing a spot of research in the process. 

You see, I’m contemplating about branching out on a third and larger shop with a higher profile, a better location and an influential and credit happy clientele. 

I need to know if this part of Surrey is the right area and is it suitable for my customers? Well yes, as Guildford is a highly desirable town with a wide and wealthy catchment area. 

Though can I afford to run three shops and a busy website? That will depend on our calulations and capital. I will have to sit down with Jerry and work out the finances. He’s my ‘go to’ man as that’s his profession and he knows what’s best for us. 

I’m thinking that a larger shop, a flagship store of some kind, especially if it’s designed as a destination store will attract more customers and then I’ll be able to extend our ranges with more designer labels and with any luck, get our brand out there to more rich bitches.

Anyway, we’ve got a long way to go on that as I haven’t seen, nor felt the right space yet and the idea is still on paper.

Talking of paper, it’s poker night at Steve’s and I’m expecting Jerry to win some paper tonight, cash as such, though we’ve decided on a budget and he can’t go anymore over that, however way his luck lands.

And as he wants to let his short grey hair down, I’m going to drop Jerry off and will pick him up later, so that he can have a few drinks.

Well, the poor bugger deserves it as he works so hard and he hardly ever has any time off to spend with friends, let alone with his loving wife!

So whilst he’s getting ready and tarting himself up, I’m idildy watching TV downstairs and deciding if I should dress up or simply wear my jeans and blouse?

I don’t know why this is occupying my mind as I won’t know anyone there to impress or anyone to take my fancy, except for Steve and that’s a long shot as we’ve only chatted briefly on WhatsApp and he doesn’t know anything about me.

I know Sara isn’t going to be there as she is having over one of her spiritual advisers for a chakra cleanse session and Michael is staying over at Steve’s or with another friend from work. Who knows what they get both up to in their spare time. It’s non of my concern. 

And I’m not sure if any of the other guy’s partners will be attending, so I decided casual is going to be the look. Well, braless under my blouse. That’s casual enough, isn’t it, And Jerry won’t notice, though I hope Steve will.

And anyway, I’m only going to pop in for a short while and then leave them to it. I can’t think of anything worse than to watch people play cards. And any case, Jerry will call me when it’s time to pick him up.

Half an hour later, we’re at Steve’s apartment. It’s a small modern unit, neatly decorated and tidy with one bedroom, kitchen, bathroom and balcony. It’s on the top floor of a new build and over looks some fields. So if he gets the urge, he can walk around naked and no one will be able to see him. Although I’d like to see that! Looks like I may have to camp out in that field one night with my binoculars. Ha ha.

As I look around, I see there’s a poker table set up in the corner ready for action with a variety of drinks lined up on a cabinet and some finger snacks in various bowls and dishes. It seems as if Steve has hosted before, going by his professional looking spread. 

‘Pleased to finally meet you,’ I held out my hand to shake, but he came in with a hug.

‘And you too,’ he replied. Thanks for dropping Jerry off. I hope he’s got enough money to lose.’

Jerry looked at him and smiked sarcastically, ‘I feel like it’s my night tonight.’

‘Nah. It’s my night tonight,’ Steve looked at me, then down to my blouse without Jerry seeing.

‘Well boys, I’m going to leave you to it. Don’t forget to call me when you’re ready to be picked up.’ I kissed Jerry goodbye.

‘That won’t be long as I’m taking all you’ve got,’ Steve played punched Jerry in the stomach. ‘And with all those shots, you won’t be fit to stand, let alone win.’

‘Shots?’ I asked.

‘Yeah. Every time someone loses, they have to take a shot.’

‘I see. Not quite strip poker I see?’

‘No not this time,’ Steve said.

‘So you’re going to have a lot of drunken men staying over?’ I asked, just being nosey nd trying to continue the conversation. 

‘A few,’ Steve said, scratching his shaven bald head. ‘Though I don’t know where they’re going to sleep as I only have one bedroom. And they’re not sharing my bed. That’s reserved for special people.’ 

His hand gestured towards the bedroom. ‘Want to see?’ 

‘Why not.’ He led me to the bedroom as Jerry helped himself to a drink. I’m sure Steve’s hand brushed my arse. It must be an accident or my imagination.

‘As they say, here is where the magic happens.’

‘Oh, I like magic. Do you have a magic wand?’ I joked.

‘I sure do,’ he winked as he squeezed pass me. ‘A nice big one! 8 inches of pure wood!’

Is he coming on to me? No, surely not as we’ve only just met. No. So why is he shooting all these double entendres at me? And can I give it back? I’m going to try.

‘So have you been spreading your magic around lately?’ I asked casually.  

‘Yeah. I do like to share my gift.’

I bet you do. Wanna share it with me?

‘I bet that makes a lot of women happy?’

‘Can’t complain,’ he inadvertently rubbed his large bulge. Wish I could do that. I wish he would throw me on the bed, right there and right now and fuck me hard.

I didn’t know what to say.

‘Are you OK in there?’ Jerry called out, breaking the sexual tension, thank goodness.

‘Yes all good here,’ I replied. Yes, definitely all good here. 

‘Any idea when the other guy’s are going to come?’ Jerry asked innocently.

Steve smiled at that remark and popped his head out of the door, ‘I don’t know. Soon I’m hoping.’ Steve looked down again at my nipples which were now trying to burst out of my blouse. ‘Yeah, cumming soon.’

He looked up and our eyes locked. His dark brown eyes skillfully scanned mine as he delved deep in to my sinful soul, searching my pools of vision for any reflecting ripples of passion. 

I tried to look away, wanting to look away, but I couldn’t. I was trapped by his hypnotic gaze.

Steve licked his lips and smiled knowingly. His strong hands rested upon my hips, clamping me to the spot.

What the fuck is happening? What is he doing? 

‘I’m going to have to go,’ I breathed, trying to escape his hungry leer. I couldn’t. I was transfixed, too intoxicated to move.

He is so handsome and easy to talk to. No wonder he has a queue of women falling at his large feet or down on bended knees for him, wanting him to wave his wand of destruction in their faces.

My heart raced uncontrollably, instantly caught under his spell. 

Did he know what he was doing? Was his arrogant magic really working on me? Was I that easy as to be put under some kind of mind control or was I just enjoying his manly attention? 

Yes I was and no I can’t! 

I mustn’t allow my slutty self to take over and show her easy side. Not yet. I must show more control. I must.

I must. I must.

I must show Steve my bust!

No, no no.

I’m not going to be one of his special people, like a prize toy won at a fun fair. Well, not yet anyway. I must be strong, even if I did want to lay on my back and let him devour me, want me and fuck me all over the room.

He could do whatever he wanted to me. 

Damn it.

I must have been giving out subliminal signals as Steve took his chance and leant in so close that I could feel the heat radiating from his crotch. 

What if Jerry walked in now? What would I say? What would he say?

‘By the way,’ Steve whispered, his hot breath wafted across my ear, ‘I love your pics.’

Oh shit. ‘What pics?’ I asked, hoping that they weren’t the ones that Michael took of me last week on that bench. 

‘The ones of you undressing in the car park. I didn’t know you were like that,’ his hand rested on my arse and pulled me in closer. Have I unleashed this black stallion before me or has he always been untethered? 

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I lied, trying to push him away, my hands pressed his pumped up pecks in protest, but secretly loving the partial petting.

‘What are you talking about?’ Jerry asked as he sipped on a bottle of Peroni. 

‘I’m saying that your lady luck is mine,’ Steve winked at me as he walked out of the bedroom.

‘You’re on. I feel like a big win,’ Jerry rubbed his hands together.

‘Do you want a big one?’ Steve said to me as I followed him. 

I blushed. Of course I do.

‘Yes I want a big win and my Jerry is going to do it, aren’t you dear?’ I bent down and kissed him on the head. Phew. I managed to get out of that situation. ‘I’ll see you later. Have fun.’

‘We will. I’ll look after him for you,’ Steve waved. ‘Though I’m not sure what state he will be in when you come back.’

‘As long as he’s standing,’ I said.

‘I prefer it when they’re lying on their back,’ Steve laughed. ‘Drunks, as they’re easier to drag.’

Charming. 

‘That’s nice,’ I replied.

‘But I may leave him on the floor as that’s where all loosers should be!’

Jerry laughed. ‘Yeah, you wish.’

‘No wish. I know so.’

Ooh. Is this some sort of a thing? Would Jerry let Steve take charge? No, my imagination is now running wild.

‘Well you boys can have your macho fun of who’s the boss. I’m off now.’

I left the two of them bantering about. They seemed like they were having fun. Plus I know where Jerry is, so if he did get drunk, he’s in a safe place.

Oh dear. Is my wish going to come true? Am I going to experience Steve’s magic wand in real life? Is Steve now coming after me from seeing those saucy pics which Michael took? And, for that matter, who else as seen them? The whole of Surrey? Even Jerry?

Not wanting to think about that anymore, I caught the lift to the ground level.

Ding.

‘Well, well, well.’ A familiar voice greeted me as the lift doors opened.

My face must have been a picture as Michael stood there in front of me. 

 #doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 22

Dear Diary.

It’s Friday evening and I’m now back at the cottage in Surrey.

Marta popped over an hour ago for a quick catch up and drinkies on her way home as she only lives in the next village. 

Having discussed the rising sales of Maisy’s collection over some nibbles and some prosecco, I drank most of it as Marta has to drive, we caught up on the local gossip before she headed home.

With Marta gone and I’m a bit tipsy, I decided to put on my black wig, my lacy black bra, slap on a bit of bright red lippy and take a quick pic of my tits for that new swingers website profile. 

Pleased with the outcome, I decided that I’ll only upload that one pic to start with as I don’t want to be seen too eager. I did check my background and nothing can be seen. Good.

Post.

There. I’ll use that as my profile pic too until I take some more naughty pics. Or should I say, Michael will take some of me, especially if I let him take pics of me in alsorts of positions. And hopefully with other guys too!

Since my last log in, I’ve had a few views, but none from Steve. I’ll have another look at him now just to show him that I have a picture. That’s if he looks back at my profile. 

I may have to add a description of what I’m looking for. Now let’s see…

‘Married woman, starting out on my sexual journey. Looking for fun guys to show me the way. Up for most things. Ask for more details.’ I think that’ll do for now. 

Right, let’s fill out more of my profile. There are boxes I can tick to let guys know what I want. Now what do I want?

I had a look down the list and ticked many boxes such as, BDSM, Cum, Group Sex and Oral. I also ticked BBC, which I had to look up what that meant. A Big Black Cock. Well Steve definitely has one of those, going by his pictures. 

Should I message him on here? No. I don’t want to look too eager or give the game away. I’ll let him do the chasing. That’s if he finds my profile interesting. I do hope so.

Ping. Oh, it’s from Michael. 

Ping. ‘Hello. Just double checking to see if Jerry is coming down this weekend?’

‘Yes, tomorrow morning. He wants to play some golf. Did you message him too?’

Ping. ‘Not yet. Just wanted to chat with you first. Just seeing how you are.’

‘Ah. I’m good thanks. That’s nice of you.’ I bet he’s bored. 

Ping. ‘Yes. Do you think Jerry will be up for a game of poker tomorrow night?’

‘I’m sure he will be.’ It’s a good job that Michael can’t see the disappointment on my face as I was hoping we’d go back to ‘our pub.’

‘Send him a text and ask him now.’

Ping. ‘Will do.’

Ten minutes later, Michael pings back.

Ping. ‘Yes he’s all good with that. Are you?’

‘That’s fine by me.’ I wasn’t really. ‘It will be good for him to go out with the boys. He doesn’t get much of a chance of that back home.’ Oh well, it looks as if I’ll have to find something else to do for Saturday night. 

Ping. ‘Great. We’re having it at Steve’s.’ 

Ooh. My heart skipped again.

‘That’ll be nice.’

Ping. ‘Yeah.’

‘Who else is going?’

Ping. I don’t know yet. I’ve invited a few guys from the garage.’

‘Well I hope you’ll have a good time without me.’

Ping. ‘I’ll try. It won’t be the same. It’s not our kind of fun though.’

‘No it’s not.’

Ping. ‘Right. Gotta go. See you soon for more of our fun!’

‘Oh yes. I’ll look forward to what you have in store for me.’

Ping. ‘Hee hee. I’m sure you will, you dirty bitch.’ 

Me? Dirty? How rude!

I wasn’t a few weeks ago before that party, but now… 

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife #kinkyklobber

Doing A Carol 21

Dear Diary.

It’s Thursday morning and I’ve received a ping from Michael.

Ping. ‘Hello. I believe that Steve was looking for me yesterday.’

‘Yes he was. Did he catch you?’ Again, no how are you or did you have a good weekend?

Ping. ‘Doing what?’

Ah. So you’ve been up to something then. Gotcha!

‘I don’t know. You tell me.’

Ping. ‘Can’t say. Ha ha.’

So you have been up to something.

‘Yes, Steve was looking for you about work stuff. I said that I didn’t know where you were.’

Ping. ‘Thanks. He found me in the end. I couldn’t answer the phone at that time as I was in the middle of something.’

‘So where were you then?’

Ping. ‘I was out of town on business.’

‘I see. And was it successful?’

Ping. ‘Yes, definitely.’

I bet, you dirty bastard.

‘Was it a blonde, brunette or a red head?’

Ping. ‘A grey head actually.’

‘Ooh. I didn’t know that you were in to older?’

Ping. ‘No. He was a client. A new business contact. He wants me to maintain his fleet of cars. We were signing contracts over dinner. Then we went out for drinks.’   

‘That’s exciting. Congratulations.’

Ping. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘I haven’t heard from Sara for a while. What’s she been up to?’

Ping. ‘She’s still on one of her self help courses or something like that. She’ll be back home tomorrow night.’

‘Oh that’s good. I may have to pop down on Saturday and catch up with her as I haven’t seen her for ages ‘ 

Ping. ‘Just her?’

‘At the moment, yes. If I have any spare time, I’m sure we could squeeze in something extra.’ Let’s play hard to get and see where that takes me.

Ping. ‘That will be good. I do like a bit extra too.’

‘I’m sure you do. Don’t we all?’ 

Ping. ‘Great. Gotta go now as work calls. I think Steve needs some help with a car that’s just come in.’

Excuses, excuses. 

‘OK. Go off and play with your boy toys.’ I joked. Michael’s garages specialises in fixing  top of the range motors and he’s hard to make an appointment with. 

‘By the way, say hello to Steve from me.’ My heart skipped a beat. Why? Is Steve my new infatuation? 

Ping. ‘Will do.’ 

Is that it? ‘Will do?’ What kind of answer is that? Where’s the smart reply? Where are your smutty come backs? And why aren’t you even a bit curious that I’m wanting to say hello to Steve? Jealous even? Obviously you’re not bothered, oblivious or are you playing me again?

If so, what are you up to now? What has he got planned for me now? I shudder to think.

Steve makes me shudder though. My groin tingles when I think of him and I’ve not even spoken to him, we’ve just exchanged a few texts and I’ve scanned a few pictures of him. But that’s a start.

Ah Steve, the pulse invader and the gasp generator. The conquering hero who can damage a woman with one swipe of his mighty sword, one thrust of his jousting rod and plunge his fair maiden into a seductive submission of ecstacy.

Well, he can certainly pillage and plunder my village anytime and anywhere.  

I sound like I’m such a slut. But I’m not. Am I? I’ve only sucked a few guys and had one true moment of passion with Michael pounding me, admittedly in front of a crowd, but that’s it. 

Though honestly, that night of my first dogging experience has given me a taste of such naughtiness. It’s unlocked a dormant succubus inside of me, a vivacious vixen on the hunt for any fresh meat to satisfy my ferocious hunger. I now want more. Much more.

By the sound of that last paragraph, I do seem to come across as a predatory woman on the prowl. A slut.

But I’m an independent woman who knows what I want and I go out and get it. And there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?

And talking about going out to get what I want, do I have time to quickly look at Steve’s profile again? No, I don’t. I’ll have to wait until later. 

But why wait? I’ve never waited for anything. I want Steve, I want him now, but I’m going to play it their way. 

I’m going to be devious and let him think that he’s trapped me in his fishing net, when in fact, I’ve dangled the bait before him and caught him hook, line and sinker!   

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 20

Dear Diary.

I’m now back home and sitting in our snug, watching TV after having a lovely late our dinner. Jerry is sitting in his usual spot on his tatty recliner, or I should say dozing, with a glass of port about to tipple from his hand. 

I’m snuggled up in my pink silk pj’s on my comfy sofa with my phone and a nice cup of tea.

Our snug is a small, eclectic and shabby chic room where we can relax in comfort, surrounded by our beloved books and oddities that we’ve picked up over the years.

It’s great just to get away from the hustle and bustle of our busy lives and have the luxury to unwind in our own private colourful cocoon. 

I love my little snug as it’s my sanctuary and safe place for me to gather my thoughts and to escape from the outside world. We are lucky to have the space in our house, even to have a tiny kitchen and cloakroom attached to it too. 

Not many of our friends come in here, only a select few as the rest are entertained in the main part of the house.

So now scrolling through various websites to get some inspiration but I’m back thinking about Steve and that website.

If I want to find out more about Steve, I’m going to have to bite the bullet and join up, aren’t I?

Right, I need to make up a name for this site as I don’t want to use my own. So what shall I call myself?

On the TV we’re some fighter jets flying over some lush countryside. I wasn’t watching the programme as it was Jerry’s thing, but he was half asleep now.

I was about to turn it over when a different presenter now spoke about birds, especially ravens. That gave me an idea for my profile name, Raven.

With that name, I made a Gmail account just for the site, as I didn’t want my work or personal details to be linked with this website.

Now that I’m logged in with my user name and password, I just had to add some basic details to create my new profile. So I did. And to be honest, my details weren’t quite accurate. Just sugar coated for extra sparkle. 

I said I was 45, though many people mistake me for being that age anyway, married and from London. So that way, if anyone searched for me, they would get my fake name and not the real me.

I decided to add a picture later as I want to have a plain background, as again, so that I wouldn’t be recognised. Plus I needed to put on my long black wig for the photos too, as that will be why I’m called Raven.

I then had to add my height and weight etc and what kind of stuff that I’m in to and what I’m looking for.

I’m not sure about that yet, so I put dogging down as I’ve just done that and I added group sex, dressing up and BDSM too just for a laugh.

I also added that I was looking for men, single and married men who are local to me between the ages of 18 – 99. I can always change my wants and needs at a later date.

As I was happy with my new profile, I clicked ‘post’.

Making sure that Jerry was asleep, I did a name search on Steve and came across his profile.

It was very interesting to see what he was after and what he liked. He didn’t have many pictures on there as a lot of them were hidden, only for friends to view. But the few that I saw were very impressive. 

There were one picture of him, no face pic but of him in some tight underwear showing off a huge bulge and another one with his massive cock hanging over his pants.

Wow. He was much bigger than Michael and I bet he’s very popular with the ladies, especially with all the ‘likes’ for that picture!

As I scrolled through his profile, I noticed that some of my details matched his and I were within his age range of whom he was looking for.

I wasn’t going to delve any further tonight as there were a programme on telly that I’ve been looking forward to watch, so I came off the site and settled in for the night.

Jerry then woke up, which was lucky for me as I just put my phone down and asked me if I wanted a cuppa, not realising that I had already have a cup.

I declined. He then came over, gave me a kiss goodnight, then he popped off to bed as he had to get up extra early for an important breakfast meeting in the city.

I really wanted to go back and log on to that swinging site, but had to be strong. There will be plenty of time for that later.

But for now, my programme had started, so I needed to watch it.

Perhaps later I’ll have another peek at Steve. Perhaps. 

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 19

Dear Diary.

It’s Wednesday lunchtime and I’m back at work in my Essex boutique when I recieve this random WhatsApp message.

Ping. ‘Hi.’

Now who’s this? ‘Hello.’ I replied as I don’t recognise this number. It could be a customer who has found my details online, so best to answer back.

‘Hello. This is Steve, Michael’s friend from his work. I hope you don’t mind but he’s given me your number as an emergency if I can’t catch him or Sara.’ 

‘Oh. OK.’ That’s a bit odd.

Ping. ‘Thanks. Have you heard from either of them today?’ 

‘No I haven’t. Sorry. I think Sara is on one of her retreats this week.’ 

Sara often goes on some sort of self help or a wellbeing course. Though I can’t remember which one it was this time. She did tell me as she wanted me to go, but I said I was too busy with work, which I am.

And anyway, I’m not going to say if I had heard from them to a complete stranger, am I? He could be some sort of nutter, even if Michael has mentioned him on several occasions.

Ping. ‘Again, sorry to bother you. If you do hear from Michael as he’s not answering his phone, can you tell him I’m looking for him. It’s not that important. Just a work thing that I need his advice on.’

‘Yes, will do. Have you called his house number?’

Ping. ‘Yes, but their answer machine is on.’

Typical. I can never get through to them on their landline either.

‘Oh. Michael and Sara must be somewhere with a poor connection. That’s all can think of.’

Ping. ‘I never thought of that.’

‘I’ll message them both now and tell them that you’re looking for them.’

Ping. ‘Thanks. If you can, just message Michael as it’s work related. I dont think Sara would care about garage talk, would she?’

‘No, I suppose not.’

Ping. ‘Thanks.’

I then put my phone down and carried on dressing one of our dummies with our new range of lingerie. I must admit, the outfit looks much better on a body than in the picture on the packaging.

Five minutes later I get another ping.

It’s from Steve. I should save his number, just in case he needs help. 

Ping. ‘Are you having a good day?’ 

Ooh. The conversation has changed.

‘Yes thank you. And you?’ Better sound polite and professional.

Ping. ‘Yes, all good. Working hard.’ 

‘Me too.’

Ping. ‘Ah right. I best leave you to it.’

‘That’s kind of you. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. Catch you again. Bye.’

‘Bye.’

Well, that was random, wasn’t it? It was as though he wanted to chat.

If I wasn’t so busy I could have spared a few more minutes. 

Now my curiosity as awakened as I had finished with the dummy and stood her on a small plinth and needed something to do whilst no one was in the shop.

Have I met Steve before? I don’t think so. I know Michael has often spoken about him and his poker nights or him covering for Michael. Is this one of those times? Are they trying to work out a story together to mislead Sara?

Dying to see what this mysterious Steve looks like, I decided to do some sleuthing. So I did.  

My first port of call was to check out Michael’s Facebook page to see if Steve was on there. In fact there were two Steve’s, one from Norfolk and one from Surrey. 

Ah, the latter one must be him, I thought.

I clicked on his profile and there he was.

Steve, age 30, black, single and handsome. That’s a good start.

I delved further.

He works as a mechanic and a manger at a Surrey garage. Yes I already knew that. 

He is 6 foot 2, a gym bunny and by the cut of his trousers, he looks very, very well endowed.

I scrolled down his page and it just had the bog standard stuff on there with some nice holiday snaps of him, nights out with the lads and a few pictures of him in a pair of skimpy shorts. Nice.

Mmm. That gave me an idea. A naughty idea.

It was time to put on my Miss Marple hat and see if Steve has been up to no good, just like Michael.

So having acertained his surname on Michael’s Facebook profile, I went in search for Steve.

With a freshly brewed cup of tea in hand, I then did a Google search on him where his name came up for various work related websites and other social media sites, so obviously I checked them out too.  

At the same time, I thought I’d do an image search on him and I came up with some interesting stuff. Very interesting.

Along with his Facebook and Instagram images that I’ve already seen, a picture popped up showing off his bottom on a site that I never heard of.

I didn’t want to click on that link in case there was a virus atracted to it, so I looked up that website and it was dedicated for swingers. 

Ooh, I thought. And yes, I checked it out, but I couldn’t get anything further than the home page as I needed to create an account or be a member to log in to see the website properly. 

Damn. What do I do now?

There was only one thing to do, wasn’t there? And was to join the website.   

#kinkyklobber #doingacarl #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 18

Dear Diary.

With two loads already swallowed, I was about to take on my third and lucky load. The one that I’ve been waiting for, yearning for and soon, gagging for. And that was Michael’s.

Still on my knees before him as though I’m about to worship a revealing deity, I licked my natural flavoured glossy cum covered lips as he undid his jeans and rolled them to the floor. 

With his jeans now resting upon his trainers, his impressive cock could be seen pressed against the tight material, even under the canopy of street lights.

I smiled as I reached out and lightly stroked the pulsating outline of his bulging underwear, running my shaking fingers up and down my wrapped present. 

As the haze of the car headlights, mixed in with the moon’s soft rays beaming down on us, I could see a glistening damp patch of magic juice growing as a drop of pre cum oozed through the white cotton material of his underpants. There was no option, no choice but to lean in and gently kiss it.

Michael breathed heavily.

Mmm. Tasty. And naughty. Oh so naughty.

Leaning back to admire the view, I could see that my wet lips had left a mark on his pants. My mark of ownership and my seal of approval.

Wow. Was I really doing this? Am I about to relish Michael’s cum and in front of a perving audience, who, I’m guessing, may want to fuck me senseless as well?

I gazed up to Michael, my powerful master of mischievous and he smiled back as he grasped my head with his strong hands.

Am I’m living up to Michael’s slutty demands? Is this what he wants from me, his posh totty that he can call on anytime when he’s horny? 

Am I’m now just a sex vessel to him, his toy, his personal Barbie doll that he can dress up, play with and share with his friends?

And for that matter, if I am such of a slut now in his eyes, does he think that I’d have sex with any man he presented before me? Probably. 

Though I do have some self respect when to comes to choosing my men. But do I? I didn’t have any choices with my two previous conquests tonight, did I? And nor did i choose those guys at the pub the previous night. 

Oh what have I become. Have I become that easy? Will Michael still respect me as a friend, even with all of this sex malarkey between us? 

I’m sure he will and away, when you look at it, it’s only sex, isn’t? It’s not as if it’s love or anything intimate like that. It’s simply animal on animal, skin on skin and a basic act of fulfilling each other’s carnal needs. 

Nothing more. Nothing less. Just sex.

But what would Jerry say if he saw me now? Would he be disgusted, angry and want a divorce?

I’m so confused. Should I be participating in such dirty acts with strangers? Or even with friends? Will this affect my friendship with Sara, my marriage to Jerry or damage my reputation?

So many mixed emotions buzzed in my head. Question after question. Cock after cock. Cum after cum. 

My attention came back to Michael as my heart pounded so hard, that I thought my ears would explode. 

I went in and licked his moist material with the tip of my tongue.

‘Yeah slut,’ he said as he winked to the watching guys. ‘Let’s see if the slut is really thirsty.’

With that remark, I pulled down his underpants to reveal his 7 inch cock to the gasp of the watching men. 

Michael’s cock hovered close to my face, swaying back and forth in a hypnotic motion.

Wow. I’ve never seen anything so big like that before. Could I fit it in my mouth? Well there’s only one way to find out, wasn’t there?

I reached out and held it my my hand as I licked a drop of pre cum from the tip. The sweet juice slid over my tongue as I licked his cut, mushroom helmet.

I could hear Michael groan above me as a flash of light from my side startled me.

‘Keep going,’ Michael commanded as the flashes continued. 

Not wanting to disappoint, I ran my lips up and down his veiny shaft, licking each inch of him as I explored and munched my way on my personal expedition.

‘Mmm,’ I muttered as I reached the top again, but this time I opened my mouth and led his cock to safety in my warm and wet mouth.

I slowly pumped up and down, as far as I could go. My mouth was aching but I couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. 

I could feel him twitch under my command. Now it was my turn to be in control, though that didn’t last long.

Michael pulled back.

I was disappointed but relieved as my mouth was starting to go numb.

‘Stand up,’ he ordered. 

I did what I was told.

‘Now take off your skirt and blouse.’

I removed my clothing, leaving me defenceless in that sheer crotchless bodystocking.

Our audience murmured in delight as I stood there, almost naked. 

Another flash.

I don’t think I’ve felt so exposed and so alive before. It was marvellous. Empowering.

Michael then took my hand and led me to the front of the car, where he picked me up and gently placed me on the bonnet. 

‘Are you OK?’ He asked.

‘Yes,’ I replied as he kissed me, deep and hard on the lips. I then felt a hand touch one of my breasts. It wasn’t Michael. 

Flash. Another picture for the Internet. 

Michael looked up at me, grinned, opened my legs and kissed my stomach, then slowly inched down towards my pussy.

A tingle went up my spine as his tongue expertly circled his target, my vagina, then quickly flick my clitoris, making me wetter for his big finish, or his big entry!

As his partner in crime, I leant back and spread my legs further, offering him to plunder my womanhood with his throbbing rod.

Michael wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up. I looked down past my sweat covered body to see him teasing me by rubbing his wet helmet around the lips of my swollen vagina. 

‘Argh,’ I gasped in delight. My head flopped back, dizzy from the attention. Not just from him, but with our adoring audience too.

This is it, I thought. My dream was soon to be fulfilled, as well as my pussy.

‘Yeah slut,’ Michael’s gruff voice echoed around the car park as he carefully slid in to me. 

I can’t remember if it was pain or pleasure, but I let out a sharp yelp as his thick tool entered me, devouring my woman cave and stretching the walls of my vagina with every pump to facilitate the boldness of his exploring shaft.

‘Fuck yeah,’ a man said from one side of the car. 

‘Go on. Give her one,’ another man said, peering over his phone which was directed at us. 

The older man stood back and watched in awe as the rhythmic sound of our bodies started to slap together in harmony.  

My legs clung on to Michael’s waist for dear life as another set of hands groped my breasts.

‘Fuck,’ I moaned as one of the guy’s came in for a close up shot of the action. ‘Harder! Harder!’ I cried.

The man flashed away as now the older man moved in closer to get a better look. 

‘Yeah,’ Michael groaned as he pumped faster and faster. My grip on him became intense. I didn’t want to let him go. He was mine for the moment and I didn’t care who was watching. 

I was in that moment, the moment of pure joy and ecstasy. I’ve never felt like this before, not even with Jerry. He could never make me quiver or shudder in our love making like Michael did. 

Yes, Jerry did make me cum, rarely, but it was meerly your one star standard achievement, not a gold star or an award winning performance as such. More like a supporting actor, or even more like a walk on artist with limited dialogue. 

Now Michael was different. He had that quintessential  star quality, a persona who pervaded an air of confidence, which made women want to be with him and men want to be him.  

I let out another yelp as Michael hit that special spot. Same as when a dog flicks his legs when tickled. I didn’t flick mine. I bucked and writhed under his expert fucking.

‘Fucking hell,’ I heard from one guy as his warm spurt of juice splashed across my bouncing tits. 

‘Urgh. I’m gonna cum,’ Michael grunted as he thrusted quicker and quicker. His energy was on fire like a rampant teenager.

‘Oh fuck,’ I screamed. I couldn’t keep control of my body as his hot juices exploded in me, shooting out in force from his cock and seeding me with his delicious cum.

Michael continued pumping until he had nothing more to give. His sweaty body hung over me for a few heavenly moments until he finally pulled out of me.

Flash, flash, flash!

I laid there on the car, exhausted and emotionally drained.

Flash, Flash, flash!

More pictures were taken of me, now of my swollen pussy with Michael’s cum pouring out of me.

The photographer, not just satisfied with his pictures, leant in and wiped his finger down my sodden vagina and licked it. 

Sensing that it was OK to do that, he then bent down and licked Michael’s cum from my pussy.

Another flash, but it wasn’t from him. It was from Michael. 

‘Did you have a good time?’ Michael asked as the photographer man hastily went back to his car.

‘Oh yes,’ I sighed, trying to get my breath back as I laid on the bonnet of the car, almost stuck to it from the sweat and cum.

‘That’s a good girl.’ Michael kissed me on the lips, then handed me some tissues to clean up with.

‘Thanks for that,’ one of the men said as he waved goodbye. The older man must have gone as I couldn’t see him. And Van Man had disappeared too. So it was just Michael and I left in the car park. 

‘Let’s get you home as you need to rest.’

I smiled as Michael led me back to the car. I sat on the car seat and took a deep breath.

‘Here,’ Michael handed me a blanket from the back seat. ‘Use this to cover yourself up until I get you home.’

‘Thank you.’

I wrapped the blanket around my damp and throbbing body and instantly fell asleep in the safety of Michael’s protective presence.

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 17

Dear Diary. 

Slut or no slut, I’m sitting in a darkened car park in the middle of nowhere and dressed like a naughty secretary. 

‘Are you ready?’ Michael asked. 

It’s now or never. I took a deep breath. ‘Yes,’ I replied nervously.

Michael grinned. I’m not sure, but did I catch a naughty twinkle in his eyes?

‘Just for fun, let’s see what happens. Why not have a walk around the car and show off your beautiful body.’

‘I’m not a piece of meat that’s on offer Michael!’

‘I know, but you’re stunning and you do like being looked at and watched, don’t you?’

Bastard. How does he know?

I let out a sigh. Not a reluctant sigh, but a yes-you’re-right sigh.

‘When you get to the front of the car, bend over the bonnet, lift your arse and pretend to check the windscreen wipers. Then lift your skirt a bit higher, come back and leave your door open.’

‘Why?’ 

‘So that the men can see you better.’

‘Ok.’ I then got out of the car, sauntered around to the front and bent over the bonnet as ordered.

I looked at Michael and he gave me a wink, then nodded at me to look over my shoulder. 

As predicted, my skirt lifted high up above my waist to reveal my arse. The man on the opposite side looked over with interest.

I then flicked my false blonde hair, stood up straight, wiggled my arse as I peeled down my skirt and sat back in the car.

‘Good girl. That was a great show as you can see.’ Michael beckoned me to look down to his solid trapped hard on. ‘Look what you’ve done to me. You’re a bad, bad girl.’

‘Am I?’ My hand rested upon his crotch. ‘Am I a bad girl now?’

‘Very.’

‘So what should I do, to be really bad?’

‘Why don’t we find out?’

‘How?’

‘Let’s turn the light on and see what happens.’

We sat there for a while and watched the man opposite through the windscreen. 

He looked around to see if anyone was watching and headed over to us. The other people were still sat in their vehicles. I guess waiting to see the outcome. 

‘He we go, Michael grinned.’

The man came around to my side of the car and stood beside me. He must have been about in his late 60’s, donning a bear belly and a bald head. 

‘Alright?’ He asked, bending over to look into the car.

‘Yeah good mate. And you?’ Michael replied. 

‘I’m good too. It’s a bit chilly tonight, isn’t it?’

‘Oh, is it? I’m rather hot,’ I said as I tried to waft my tight blouse to keep cool.’ 

‘Yes, you are hot,’ the man said. ‘Are you having trouble with that blouse?’

‘A bit,’ I said. ‘I am feeling rather moist.’

‘Why not undo some buttons and let the air get to those lovely tits?’ 

I looked at Michael for mock approval, as I knew I was going to do that anyway.

‘You should listen to the man,’ Michael said. ‘He looks like he knows what he wants.’

‘I always get what I want,’ the older man licked his lips.

Not wanting to disappoint, I carefully undid by blouse and pulled it apart to show off my bodystocking encased pert  breasts. 

‘Wow!’ The man gasped as I lifted my breasts for him. 

‘Do you like?’ I asked. 

‘Oh fuck, yeah.’

‘There’s only one rule. You can only touch the nylon areas,’ Michael butted in. ‘Nothing else.’

The man grinned, leant in and stroked one of my nipples. 

‘Mmm,’ I let out a moan of joy as he circled my areola with his twitchy fingers whilst gripping his bulge.

‘Lovely tits. Wish I could bury my face in them.’ 

‘Later,’ I promised as I put my left leg out of the car for comfort, causing my short skirt to hitch up to expose my pussy. 

The man groaned as he undid his flies with his shaking hand. He then had to stop what he was doing and used both hands to undo his tatty belt.

Meanwhile, I could see another man in the darkness step out from his van and walk over to see what was happening. 

By now, I leant back on to Michael’s lap, where he had his strong hands cupping my heaving breasts. 

Mr Van Man was now watching and wanking in the background as the older man was running his hands over my legs.

I closed my eyes as Michael bent over and kissed me.

‘I want to see you suck them both,’ he whispered as his lips softly brushed mine.

‘Yeah,’ I groaned as our tongues danced the fandango. 

The older man had now took a chance, broken the rules and was gleefully rubbing my wet swollen pussy. I’m sure his finger slipped in to my vagina by accident but I didn’t mind. I was loving the attention. And loving the feel of his intrusive finger.

Mr Van Man had stepped closer and started to rub one of my legs.

‘Hey guys. My slut’s thirsty for cum. Who wants to give her a drink?’

This was a cue for the guys to step back so that I could sit up. 

The older man stepped in first with his jeans and pants now crumpled around his ankles and presented his somewhat erect, small yet thick cock.

I reached out and held it in my hand. It twitched within my amateur grip. 

What do I do now?

Trying to remember what I’ve done with Jerry, I gave it a brief massage and made it grow a bit more.

I’ve never sucked another man’s cock before, except for Jerry’s, so I wasn’t sure if I would do it right. 

Could I act as if I’ve done this kind of thing before? I’m sure I could. I’ve licked many lollipops in my life, so how hard is it to suck on a cock? This stranger wouldn’t know any difference, would he? All he wants is a willing wet mouth to pleasure him and finish him off. 

But I’m saddened as I desperately wanted Michael to be my first out-of-marriage sexual experience, but it wasn’t meant to be.

Though saying that, is this still Michael’s training session? Would I make a good student? Am I a good student? Am I teacher’s pet? Is he still testing me with this task? Would I pass? And with honors?

I didn’t have to worry about any of that as the older man moaned when I gently cupped his hairy grey balls and closed my quivering mouth around his cock. 

This was an odd sensation for me as I wasn’t used to anything different like this in my mouth, other than Jerry’s 5 and a half inches of flesh. 

I have to admit that I was starting to enjoy myself and was loving what I was doing. I felt so naughty and liberated. 

This man wanted me. For now anyway. I was a willing hole, an instrument for him to play with. And that didn’t bother me as I wanted to make him happy in my own special way.

As I now, expertly licked and sucked the older man, I could feel the heat radiating from his cock. Michael and Mr Van Man quietly cheered me on, all eager to have their turn.

The older man grunted as he gripped my head and kept pumping my mouth. Faster and faster. He then suddenly started to taste different. 

I was used to this sensation with Jerry and knew what was coming next. Literally. 

As he was a stranger, I wasn’t sure if I should spit, swallow or get out quick before his spurted, but it was too late as he had cum in my mouth.

Not wanting to disappoint him, nor my audience, I swallowed his cum and let it seductively drip out from my mouth. The older man thanked me, moved back and tucked his bits away, to allow Mr Van Man to immediately take over his duties.

With a slightly bigger cock dancing in front of me, I carried on and helped him out with my mouth. Mr Van Man had more stamina and lasted longer. 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Michael taking pics of me sucking Mr Van Man’s cock. I turned to Michael and posed for the camera phone.

From licking Mr Van Man’s helmet, kissing it and then with his cock in my mouth, Michael continued with some close up shots.

I felt so horny as some cum oozed out from the side of my mouth and dripped on to my nylon covered legs. I then continued to diligently work on Mr Van Man’s cock until he came in my mouth. It was a different taste from the older man, but with a thirst for cum, I swallowed his load to completion.

By now, two other guys from the other cars had turned up, each holding their erect cocks and flapping them about in the night air. 

Wanting to get a better view of them and to make it easier for me, I got out of the car and knelt on the rough ground before them. I then grabbed a cock in each hand and worked on them back and forth, licking and sucking their manhoods until one came after the other with their gushing juices covering my face as well as filling my aching mouth.

‘Not bad slut,’ Michael said. ‘But I’m sure you can do better.’

‘What do you mean?’ I looked up to him. He smiled down at me as his hands were rubbing the outline of his bulging crotch.

I so wanted him to show me his cock in real life. To touch it, kiss it, worship it.

‘Are you ready, slut?’ He asked as he reached for the clasp of his zip.

‘Yes,’ I pleaded as I crawled over to him. ‘I want you now!’

‘Good.’ He gripped his zipper and slowly pulled it down, teasing me with each click of the metal as it gradually, inch by inch, revealed his mighty manhood. 

‘Now it’s my turn!’   

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 16

Dear Diary. 

It’s nearly time.

Only half an hour to go and again, I’m so nervous. I don’t know why as I know what to expect this time, but my rosè filled stomach is bubbling away.

I know I’m excited, curious and horny, but that’s no excuse as to how I feel as I do. Is this normal behaviour? Does everyone feel like this when they’re on a promise? Or am I being a silly middle-aged woman who’s worrying about nothing? 

Anyway, I take my last look at myself in my full length antique mirror to see my reflection. 

As requested, I’m dressed in that sheer crotchless bodystocking, along with a flimsy cream blouse which is tight fitting around my ample breasts and nicely frames my erect nipples that are clearly visable through the blouse.

I’m also wearing a very short black skirt to which, when I bend over, my bottom wants to pop out from underneath the black fabric to say hello.

The look is very officy. Very secretarial. Very naughty. 

I’m sure Michael will approve of the desired image. Oh yes, Michael will definitely approve! And I’m hoping, in one way or another, he will show his approval by the growth in the trouser department. 

Beep beep. Ooh there he is.

His car has appeared outside on my pebbled driveway and the master impatiently awaits. Yes, he can wait. 

Now that I’m ‘dressed’ for his delight, although my outfit does feel freeing and empowering, I wave out of my bedroom window, lock up the house and jump into the car.

‘Good evening.’ Michael kisses me on the cheek. ‘Again, you look stunning.’

‘Thank you,’ I smiled. I see you’ve made an effort!’ My sarcastic remark was about his white t shirt and tight jeans.

‘It’s all about you tonight,’ he replied, quickly and slickly changing the subject. 

Yes, it is about me, you hunky slippery fish. You know I’m just letting you think that you’re in control, don’t you?

I tapped his denim clad knee. ‘Shall we?’

‘Yes, let’s go!’

Having passed ‘our pub’ as I’m now calling it, twenty minutes later we pulled up at the designated car park, only to find that it wasn’t as quiet as it was yesterday. 

As we drove around slowly in the dark, crunching over the cracked paving whilst looking for an inconspicuous place to park, I noticed there were about four cars and a white van all dotted around the small tarmac area, all with their lights off, though clearly had people sitting in them as I could see their shadowy outlines moving about. 

Strange for a Sunday night, as you would have thought people be at home with their families, rather than hanging around in a dodgy out of town car park, wouldn’t you?

Yes, it was strange. It wasn’t like this last night. Last night the car park was deserted. 

So what had changed?

Was this the usual gathering for a Sunday night? Had the word gotten out that something was happening? A fumble in the jungle perhaps?

Or, with my suspicious mind, had Michael orchestrated the whole event and circulated an advert within the dogging community saying that I was making a guest appearance tonight as the star attraction?

Whatever it was, tonight was going to be different.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something in the air, like an electrifying element of tension mixed with an aroma of anticipation.

Having parked in a secluded corner, tucked beneath some bushes which blocked us from any distractions coming from the main road, Michael turned off the headlights and we momentarily sat in silence. I could hear his breath becoming faster. The excitement was building and not just in his trousers.

‘So what do we do now?’ I asked. 

‘We just sit and wait.’

‘Wait for what?’ 

‘For the fun to start,’ he said touching my knee.

‘And how do we know when it’s started?’ I thought it was a silly question, but needed to say it. ‘Do we need to do anything?’

‘There are several ways to show interest.’

‘Oh. And what’s that?’

‘Well, for instance, we can flash our headlamps and start the fun off ourselves.’ His hand slid up and down my thigh. 

‘Oh.’

‘Or we can watch what happens and join in the fun.’

‘I see. Are there any other signs of what we should look out for?’ 

‘Oh my sweet, pure innocent slut, he purred. ‘If you want to be watched having fun, all we have to do is turn the interior car light on and see if anyone comes over, like moths to the light.’

‘And if they did come over, what happens next?’

‘It depends on who wants to play and what they want to do,’ he replied. ‘Remember, you have the power here and not the men.’

Men? How many are expcted to turn up? Could I handle such an army of cock sure guys?

‘I see,’ I nodded as a looked over to a man having a smoke by his car. He looked back, but no reaction.

‘Or if people are feeling really adventurous, they go for a walk in the woods and see what happens.’

‘Well I’m not going for a walk in these heels.’

Michael grinned and turned to watch the man opposite who had just stubbed his cigarette out. ‘What about him?’

‘What about him?’

‘Wanna try him out?’

It was such a loaded question. Am I ready to be mishandled again or go even further. 

‘Give me a few more minutes, to think about it,’ I said as I closed my eyes.

‘Take your time. But remember, you’re MY slut.’

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 15

Dear Diary. 

It’s now Sunday evening and I’m back home from having had a lovely lunch with Marta. We went to an old farm which has been converted in to a restaurant, along with some craft shops and a small garden centre. Well more like a few green houses and their wares. It’s owned by one of Jerry’s friends who bought the property a few years back and turned the place around. So luckily for me, I get a substantial discount there. Plus the food is delicious too. A definite gem hidden within the leafy Surrey countryside. 

With a few hours to spare before going out tonight, I’m now having a rest with a glass of rosè in one hand and watching rubbish on TV.

It’s very rare of me to go out on a Sunday night when I’m down in Surrey. Most of my friends here have families so they tend to do stuff in the evenings together. They do invite me to their gatherings, which is very kind of them, but most of the time I’m so tired from travelling or working in the shop all day, so have to decline and catch up with my rest.

Well that’s not happening this weekend, is it?

Saturday night was an eye opener, my first step in to the hot wife world. It’s a fantasy for many frustrated husbands who wish they could to be blessed with such a slutty wife. Though could they really handle it?

Could they easily watch their wives blatantly flirt with other men, knowing that she’s probably having sex behind their backs and as well as in front of them without being involved? Could they handle being emancipated, 

not allowed to be in control in the bedroom department, not just by the wife but by other men too, with possibilities of their sex lives branching out in to their personal lives? 

It’s a lot to think about and much discussion needs to take place before the initial step takes place. As once that manicured toe is dipped into that pretty pool of penis pleasing parties, then there’s no going back! 

Though that didn’t happen to me, did it? I was swept away by innocently riding on the back of someone at a party to now having plenty of play mates to call upon when I need a hard cock or three to fulfill my greedy girl needs.

More details of that to come, dear diary!

So I wonder what Michael has in store for me tonight? I know it’s going to be sexy and hot by what I have to wear. 

I haven’t be out knickerless before, so I’m guessing it will be breezy and airy down there.

Ping. ‘Hello, my sexy slut.’ 

Such a gentleman. It would be nice just to say hello, wouldn’t it?

‘Hello.’

Ping. ‘Have you had a good day?’

‘Yes, very nice. I had lunch with Marta at The Stables. How was your day?’

Ping. ‘Yeah, not bad. Spent the day at the garage. Now at home with Sara.’

‘So what have you told her about tonight?’

Ping. ‘I said I’m playing poker at Steve’s.’

‘Ah. And he doesn’t mind you saying that?’

Ping. ‘No, we cover each other all the time.’

‘That’s handy.’

Ping. ‘Yes, Steve’s a good mate. Very understanding. If you get my drift?’

‘Oh, so have you done this kind of thing before? Led a woman astray?’

Ping. ‘Its not a gentleman thing to say, is it?’

‘I’m guessing yes!’

Ping. A winking emoji popped up. ‘Talking of leading you astray, I’m moving you on to the next stage of your training.’

‘Mmm. That sounds interesting.’

Ping. ‘Yes, hopefully. We’re going to the same place as last night.’

‘What? That pub?’

‘No not there. To that car park.’

‘Oh.’ More outside fun. ‘Are you going to take more photos of me then?’

Ping. ‘Possibly.’

Sounds good. 

It’s a strange place to go to have fun, isnt it? Well, for most people it is. Wouldn’t it have been better to stay in a romantic and comfortable hotel with a four poster bed and a roaring log fire? You would think so, wouldn’t you?  

Yet a car park it is.

And because of this strange location, call it a gut feeling, or a woman’s intuition, but I believe this is what he’s been building up to this weekend. And that is for us to go dogging!

Yes, I may sound innocent when it comes to my vanilla ways, especially when I’m encased within my Egyptian cotton sheets with Jerry, but I do know what goes on in select societies and behind those black leather padded locked doors. I’m not that naive. 

And with what had happened yesterday, I have been doing some research today on what I should expect tonight. 

At this time of writing my diary, I’m not yet experienced or knowledgeable enough to be fully in control or my desires, wants and needs.

So I’m just letting my teacher take those wicked reigns and I will, under caution, blindly follow his instructions. For now! 

Ping. ‘I have a big question to ask you.’

Oh shit. I’m not sure if I like this or not.’

‘Go on then.’ 

Ping. ‘Before we head out, I want to see if you’re OK if a man touched you, intimately?’

‘Oh. Aren’t you going to touch me?’

Ping. ‘Of course I am. But for your training, I’m making sure that you’re willing to participate in such activities and not feel forced in to doing anything that you don’t want to do.’ 

That’s very thoughtful. No wonder Sara’s married to him.

I had to think. Really think. I know I was close to that happening in the pub last night, but am I ready to take that next step? Only Jerry has had that pleasure of seeing and playing with my private parts. I’m not sure about other men.

‘I’m not sure.’

Ping. ‘That’s not a problem. You’ve still got plenty of time to think about it.’

Oh great! ‘Thanks.’

Ping. ‘Right. Gotta go as Sara will be wondering what’s happened to me.’

‘Where are you then?’

Ping. ‘In the bathroom.’

‘Ah.’

Ping. ‘See you later.’

‘Yes. Looking forward to it.’

Ping. ‘I bet you are, slut!’ 

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Caro 14

Dear Diary.

Wow. What a night!

It’s Sunday morning and my head is in such a tizz.

I can’t believe that I was such a slut, so brazen and a complete show off. I never thought I had that in me. Little ol’ me! What was I thinking?

Well, I must admit that the drink did help to release my naughty inabitions, didn’t it? So tonight, I will try and not have too much pre drinkies as I’ll need to see if I can do this whilst staying a bit sober. We’ll see!

I wonder what Michael has in store for me later? If last night was the starting point, what’s the next step?

Now Diary, I know this is my just-woken-up before coffee moment, but do I remember what happened last night? Yes I do. And was it fun? Yes it was. And would I do it again? Yes I would. And would I go even further next time? What does that mean? Strip completely naked? Well I did that already for Michael. But would I let another man touch me? Fuck me, even? 

I’m not sure on that one. I guess it may depend on the situation and who’s involved. I want Michael to be involved. He can touch me, fondle me and fuck me. That would be good. Very good.

Ping.

Oh, talk of the Devil. What does he want at this time on a Sunday morning?

Ping. ‘Good morning my sexy slut. Did you have fun last night?’

‘Yes I did. And you? Did you have fun?’

Ping. ‘Of course.’ 

‘Did Sara ask where you were?’

Ping. ‘No. She knew I was going out. What about Jerry?’

‘He doesn’t know, obviously.’

Ping. ‘What would he say if he found out what you’ve been up to?’

‘I’ll approach that when, or if it happens.’

Ping. ‘Have you opened your package yet?’

‘Yes I did, thank you. I had a peek earlier. It’s very revealing.’

Ping. ‘It’s supposed to be. An ideal outfit for my slut.’

Micheal gave me a small bag containing a long blonde wig and a sheer crotchless bodystocking, with a card inside saying, ‘For your next training session.’

Ping. ‘You’re welcome.’

‘I guess I’m not just wearing that, or am I?’ Please say no. Please say no.

Ping. ‘No. You must wear that underneath a blouse and a short skirt. No underwear except for that bodystocking. Same shoes that you wore last night too.’

‘And my training?’

Ping. ‘All will be revealed. I will pick you up at your home at 10pm. I will be using the same car again.’ 

Then ping. A picture arrived. It was of me getting out of the car. ‘You take a great pic by the way.’

‘Thank you.’ Blimey, was that really me dressed up like that? I have to admit I did look sexy. ‘That’s a naughty picture of me.’

Ping. ‘Certainly is. And I have more!’

Of course you do as you didn’t stop snapping me.

Oh shit! I just remembered.  Someone else had taken pics of me in the pub. Shit! I bet they’re all over the Internet by now and on some dodgy websites, possibly saved in someone’s wank bank. Shit! 

Well it’s a good job I had that wig on. I don’t think anyone would recognise me and it was rather dark in there. Yes. That’s what I’m saying to myself and I’m sticking to it.

‘I hope you’re keeping those pictures to yourself?’

Ping. ‘Of course. Who would I share them with?’

‘I don’t know.’

Ping. ‘You shouldn’t be ashamed of your body. It’s beautiful.’

‘Thank you. I’m not ashamed, just shy.’

Ping. ‘There’s no need to be shy. I bet there are loads of men who would love to see you looking like that.’

‘Don’t be silly.’

Ping. ‘I’m not. You’d be surprised who thinks you’re sexy. Look at those guys in the pub. They couldn’t take their eyes off you.’

Michael was right there.

Ping. ‘I bet they’d love a picture of you on how you were dressed last night.’

‘Really?’

Ping. ‘Too right. Your pics would make them hot under the collar.’

‘Have you got anyone in mind who would want to see them then?’ Was this part of the training too?

Ping. ‘No not yet. I can find out who’d like a pic, if you like?’

Do I like? I’m not sure. Am I being pressured into something that I don’t want to do? Well, no as I enjoyed being watched at the pub. It made me really horny. So having someone see a naughty pic of me is the same thing, isn’t it? 

‘OK. You can share a few pics. But you must be discreet.’

Ping. ‘You have my word.’

‘Good. I need to go and get dressed now.’

Ping. ‘Great. I’ll let you know when I find someone who likes your pics. See you tonight.’

Was that wise of me? Well I do feel wanted that someone would like my pics and especially at my age. For fucks sake I’m getting horny thinking about it.

Right. I need to take my mind off it and make a quick coffee, have my morning shower and breakfast before checking my emails. And then I’ll give Jerry a ring to say I’ll be home Monday evening. 

He’s used to me staying here for the odd weekend as he knows I just work, go home, watch the TV then bed. But not this time. Definitely not this time.

Anyway, I bet he’s out with some floozy and doing the do with her. 

Right. I must get up and sort myself out. I want to pop into the shop later and do some paperwork before tonight.

Plus Marta and I are popping out for a late Sunday lunch, just to catch up on things.

We have such a laugh when we get together. So it will be good to have a girly chat before my next training session. 

I wish I could tell her what I’ve done. But I don’t want my secret to be let out yet. 

Not until I’m ready. 

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 13

Dear Diary. 

‘What’s going on here?’ Michael asked, standing at the door. 

About time!

Though not sure as things were getting hot in here.

Startled by the roar behind them, the men all turned around, saw the handsome looking stranger in the doorway and scurried off like rats back to their dark crevices, retrieving for their own safety.

‘Having fun, are we?’ He smiled cheekily as I quickly did up my dress.

‘Possibly.’

Michael grinned.

‘I see you made it then,’ I said, trying to sort myself out.

‘Yes. Sorry. The car I borrowed was playing up. You look gorgeous by the way.’

‘Thank you.’ I did a twirl. ‘Do you approve?’

‘Oh yeah.’

And with that he gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, to the disapproval from the bar tender and his friend as they were expecting that and much more.

‘Are you ready?’ Michael asked, tapping at his watch in mock impatience. 

‘Ready and willing.’

‘Great. Have you got everything? Like your decency?’

‘Fuck off,’ I laughed, flinging my handbag over my shoulder. 

Michael rubbed my arse as I turned to exit.

‘Let’s go.’ Michael turned back and winked to the bar tender. ‘See you another time.’

The bar tender nodded back, in a kind of knowing way. 

What was that all about? Was this a set up?

‘Do you know that man?’ I asked.

‘No, why?’

‘Just being nosey.’

Michael beeped his borrowed car open and we both jumped in.

‘Right. We’re going for a short ride before I take you home,’ Michael said as he switched on the car.

‘Oh.’ My heart sunk. It looked like we weren’t going to play tonight.

‘We’re going to take a detour. Let me make a quick text first.’

‘Ooh. Where?’ I asked as I checked my lipstick in the mirror of the sun visor.

‘I’m not sure. Let’s see where the road takes us, shall we?’

‘OK.’ I played the innocent one, knowing full well he knew where we were going, but I didn’t want to spoil his fun.

He put his phone away and then we sped off into the darkness where the country roads linked village to village.

‘Not long now,’ he smiled as we approached a main road.

‘Not long until what?’

He didn’t answer. He kept driving and checking the road.

‘I love your outfit. Fucking sexy,’ he said, touching my thigh.

I opened my legs up for him to have a proper feel of the lace encased goods. He didn’t react. Bastard. He removed his hand, gripped the wheel and carried on driving.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked, ‘Will you do me a favour?’

‘What’s that?’ I wasn’t sure if I was in the mood now to do the him a favour.

‘You see that lorry in front of us?’

‘Yes.’

‘I want you to open your window and flash your stockings at him as we go past.’

I’m not sure if I wanted to.

‘OK,’ I said reluctantly. 

‘Are you alright?’

‘Yes I’m fine. Just feeling a bit woozy.’ I lied, looking out of the window.’

Michael then manoeuvred next to the lorry and kept with up the same speed.

‘Are you ready?’

‘Yes.’

I then lifted my skirt up to show off my stockings. The lorry driver looked down, smiled and waved at me.

That did cheer me up.

‘How was that? Michael asked as we slowed down. 

‘It was nice.’

‘Nice. Not horny?’

‘I was expecting more.’

‘All in good time.’ He reached down and stroked my inner thigh. His fingers almost touched my panties. I gasped quietly. ‘We’ll be doing more soon. Much more!’

I smiled back. He certainly knew how to cheer a girl up.

We continued flashing my legs to a few happy lorry drivers, all giving back their compliments.

‘You have a lovely pair of legs,’ Michael remarked.

‘Thank you.’

‘And your boobs are remarkable too.’

‘Are you trying to get me to show them off?’ I smiled as I slowly unbuttoned the top half of my dress to reveal my black bra.

‘You read my mind.’

‘Yes. I can see the response in your trousers.’ Michael’s crotch area was starting to tent. ‘Let me help you out there.’ 

I reached down and held his growing bulge. ‘Mmm nice.’

‘You’ll see it soon. Trust me.’

‘I can’t wait.’

Michael pulled up to another lorry, but this time all my buttons were undone and I was showing off my lingerie. The driver couldn’t believe his eyes. He flashed his lights to show thanks.

‘Yeah. That bloke loved you.’

‘Yes he did. This is fun.’

‘I’m going to have to stop for a minute, if that’s ok? I need to stretch my legs.’

‘Sure.’ 

‘There’s a lorry stop coming up soon. We can pull in there’

‘OK. I best cover myself up, hadn’t I?’ 

Michael smiled.

Minutes later we pulled into a tiny parking area and stopped.

‘Just give me a minute or so,’ Michael said as he got out of the car. I could see him adjusting himself. 

‘OK.’ 

I watched Michael walk around to my side and opened my door.

‘Do you want some fresh air too? He asked. 

‘Sure. I need to clear my head.’

But just as I put one foot on the pebbles, Michael said, ‘Stop. Let me take a quick pic of you like that.’

He then got out his phone and took a picture. Snap.

‘Wow. You look fantastic.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Let me take another pic. No one’s around.’

‘Oh OK.’ I undid some buttons.

‘Fuck. You’re so sexy.’

I giggled and opened my legs wider for him to get a better picture. 

‘Why don’t you sit on that bench over there,’ he suggested to a bench by the curb. ‘You’ll be more comfortable on there.’

We walked over to the bench as he continued to take pics of my arse.

‘Hey, bend over on that bench.’

‘Like this?’ I asked as I lifted my dress up.

‘Perfect. Why don’t you take off the dress?’

‘Here?’

‘Come on. You know you want to.’

I did. 

‘You’re a bad influence Michael.’

‘I know. Now take it off.’

I did as I was told and posed some more. Click, click, click.

‘Your breasts look amazing in that bra.’

Was he trying to say sometime or ask for something? I thought I’d beat him and removed my bra.

‘Fuck. So hot.’ Michael smiled as kept snapping and as I kept posing.

It was fun, I can’t lie about that. And as no one was nearby, only the crack of trodden sticks coming from the bushes by the local widelife and except for a small empty car tucked way in the corner, I felt I could be naughty. Really naughty.

The area was discreet, quiet with the odd occasional car passing by. I’m glad that the car park was hard to find and well hidden from the road, otherwise I wouldn’t have been so brave.

‘Michael…’ I whispered.

‘Yes?’

‘You see my panties?’

‘Yes I do.’ He then took a close up of my lacy covered crotch. 

‘I think my pussy needs some air.’ I could see the outline of his cock spring in to action with that remark.

‘I think so too!’

I then slowly pulled down my panties and placed them on the bench. Michael continued to snap away from all angles, giving me directions on what to do. 

He leant in and took a picture of his hand lightly stroking my vagina. I let out a soft moan of pleasure.

‘You look fucking amazing,’ he said and he took the last picture. ‘I can’t wait for tomorrow night.’

‘What’s happening tomorrow night then? I said as I began to get dressed.

‘You’ll see. Let’s get you back home and rested. You’re going to need it.’

‘OK. You’re the boss.’

‘And don’t you forget that.’ He grinned as we both got in the car. ‘I’ll be picking you up at the same time, but this time I want you to wear this.’ He pulled out a bag from the back seat. ‘No looking until you get home. Promise?’

‘Promise.’ 

‘You’re a good girl.’

That’s what he thought.

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 12

Dear Diary.

I can honestly say the pub lived up to its reputation. 

Let me set the scene.

It’s your typical old fashioned looking, non descript cream painted building, possibly was a coach house back when it was first built. 

Outside there are several faulty lamps clinging to the walls, flickering like a fake disco and providing no basic lighting system, whilst in-between them are a series of hanging baskets spewing out a fountain of thirsty flowers. 

As I entered the place, I was immediately accosted by a sea of stagnant, musty air, rippling towards me like a tidal wave, wanting to escape through the door behind me and attacking my nostrils on its way to freedom. 

Strangly, the pub wasn’t busy for a Saturday night, only a few bodies were dotted about, although I could hear the recognisable crack of pool balls coming from the back of the pub.  

The interior was dimly lit and covered with football memorabilia and old stained pictures that lined the walls which were draped in that dreadful old fashioned seventies red and black fuzzy flock wallpaper. 

In front of me was a bald middle aged bar tender standing behind a cluttered bar, cleaning his pint glasses and was chatting to his chubby male friend who sat on a bar stool. They both stopped what they were doing and watched me walk over to them. So did the three old men who were sat in the corner playing dominos. They also stopped their game and watched my every move. 

Only the guys playing pool in the back room and a young lad in his painters overals didn’t notice me at first as he was too engrossed in his phone. 

I don’t think that I’ve ever felt so out of place and nervous as I did then. And being the only woman in the place, did I feel safe? I’m not sure. In any case, Michael will be here soon, so surely nothing untowards could happen in that time. My mind was playing tricks again. I’m just being silly arent I? Of course I am.

I’m fully aware of my situation and how vulnerable I may seem to be, but I’m a strong woman who can look after myself. I’m just having silly thoughts, that’s all.

As I carefully stepped upon the sticky grandparents style carpet in my black patent high heels and brushed away those negative thoughts, I could feel all of their eyes undressing me, leering and meticulously scanning the white material to see what laid beneath. Well it was clearly obvious what it was covering. Anyone from space could see my sexy black underwear shining through the flimsy material. Was it worth wearing the dress in the first place? Damn right as it covered my modesty.

As I ordered a glass of rosè, the bar tender kept glancing down at my pert breasts and the guy on the stool inched nearer, I guess hoping to catch a feel. He didn’t.

I swiftly grabbed my glass of wine, thanked the bar tender and sat down at a grubby table near the young lad, who by now has looked up and had taken an interest.

It felt like I was the entertainment and that they’ve not seen a woman before. 

Then I get a text. 

Ping. ‘I’m on my way.’

‘Hurry up. It feels dirty in here.’

Ping. ‘I thought you were a dirty girl.’

‘I can be, but not in here. It’s manky.’

Ping. ‘Here’s a good place to start.’

A good place to start? What? What does the fuck that mean?

I then take a sip of wine and fiddle with my phone, trying not to stand out. 

Then I catch the young guy trying to take a sneaky picture of me.

What the hell!

Ping. ‘I should be there soon.’

‘Please hurry.’

Ping. ‘Aren’t you having any fun yet?’

‘What do you mean?’

Ping. ‘Is there anyone in the pub who’s not looking at you?’

‘The pub is empty. Just a few men lurking about. They’re all perving at me.’

Ping. ‘Perfect. How does it feel?’

Is this fucker twisted?

‘How the fuck do you think I feel?’

Ping. ‘Tell me, slut!’

What? Are you that stupid?

‘I feel degraded and dirty.’

Ping. ‘Dirty? Not even a bit sexy?’

‘No. Not even a bit,’ followed quickly by, ‘Well…’

Ping. ‘Good girl. I have a task for you.’

‘I’m not playing anymore.’

Ping. Yes you are. You’re my slut now and you will do what I say.’

Fuck. Am I? I must be to be sat here on my own in such an outrageous outfit. 

Ping. ‘I want you to go to the ladies and take a selfie.’

Shit. That means I’ll have to walk right through the pub and into the pool room.

‘OK. But hurry up.’

Ping. ‘I’m nearly there.’

Trying to keep calm, I get up and walk through the bar and through the pool room where the guys have now stopped playing and watched me go into the ladies toilets. 

Inside, I checked myself out in the mirror, took out my phone and took a selfie. 

Sent. 

Ping. ‘Wow. Looking good.’

‘Thank you. Are you here yet?’ 

Ping. ‘Just around the corner.’

‘Great. I don’t think I can last any longer in here.’

Ping. ‘Get used to it. You have one more task and it’s very simple.’

I don’t believe it! What’s he up to?

Shall I continue to play his silly games or should I go home? I’m not sure but nothing bad has happened yet, except for some dirty old men leering at me. So what’s wrong with that? 

Now that’s a loaded question which will upset those who are easy offended, those living in their wimpy wet lettuce political correct world and the woman’s liberation brigade who, I do believe in, have bravely fought for justice and equality so that we can have a better life. 

Good for them as I’m right with you ladies, joining the ranks and standing up for what’s right. But for now, it’s my turn to put that liberation in to practice and turn the tables on those poor old defenceless men who are only thinking with their droopy, withered cocks. 

These men may think they know what they are doing but when it comes to me and my rules, I’m the one in charge. I’m the one stating what’s what and I’m the one who’s in control of the situation.

Even Michael. Poor Michael. 

He may think he’s in charge of the game. And, of course, I’m letting him think that.  

Yes, he maybe ahead with the moves at the moment and I guess he has some sort of gameplan worked out, but he forgets that I’m the prize. If he’s going to win his trophy, and he eventually will when I’m ready, he’s going to have to show his hand soon so I can trump it or be a big bitch and prolong his advances. 

But for now, I’ll need time and lessons on how to develop my womanhood, discover my inner Goddess and to unveil my self doubt and unleash my sexual pleasures and deviancies.   

Ping. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Yes. One last task and then you come and get me.’

Ping. ‘Good. I want you to unbutton your dress to show off some cleavage, unbutton some of your dress to show off your stocking legs and walk through the pub. Order a drink and sit down. I’ll be there shortly.’

‘Is that all? Don’t you want me to fuck the bar tender as well?’ I joked.

Ping. ‘All in good time!’

Is he joking? Is he really fucking joking?

‘One drink. If you’re not here in five minutes then I’m off home.’

Ping. ‘Ooo. Someone’s getting fiesty.’

‘I’m not joking Michael. You have exactly five minutes from now.’

The countdown had started. Tick, tick, tick!

Right. If he wants to play a game, he’s now playing against the best. Me!

But this time, I’m going to entertain myself and it’s going to be his loss.

I looked in the mirror once again, re-apllied my red lipstick, undid my dress to show off my new black lingerie, well its not as if it’s unlike wearing a bikini on the beach is it, and stepped out of the toilets, with just three buttons away from being arrested.

As I slowly walked back through the bar, there were no clanking coming from the biker guys playing pool, no dominos slamming down on the table and no chatter coming from the bar. Just rock music pumping out of the speakers and a jaw dropping gaggle of men watching my every step.

Now this is liberation!

Having reached the bar, I ordered another glass of wine, checked my watch, three minutes left and had a brief chat with the tongue hanging bar man.

I’m sure the man next to me brushed his hand over my arse, or it could have been my handbag swishing against me. Anyway, the way I was feeling, I didn’t care.

With a sence of empowerment, I turned around and lent back on the bar.  My breasts were bursting through the tight dress and my legs were now exposed, showing off my sexy black stockings.

I felt good. Real good.

I’ve never felt so nervous and yet so alive. 

My head was starting to buzz from the drink, but it was a good feeling. A good buzz.

The young lad was clearly taking pictures of me but I didn’t care now. I was giving them a free, yet brief show. 

And why not? For a fifty year old woman, my body was in bloody good shape.

Still leaning against the bar, I slightly spred my legs a bit wider, tensing the grip of the buttons and touched the guy’s leg with my leg who was sat on the stool.

He smiled at me and rested his hand near my leg, ever so lightly stroking it with the back of his finger. I didn’t complain as it felt nice. Well, naughty.

I casually looked down and saw his crotch was growing. I then looked up at him.

With an interested crowd gathering, I slowly undid a button. I heard a gasp. 

Smiling to my audience, I undid another. Now I could see their hands grubby hands grabbing their balls and adjusting their growing hard ons.

By now, the young guy had become more brazen and stood nearer taking pictures. I could see him taking pictures of me from different angles, but I didn’t care. I’m a slut in training, remember?

I then asked the guy on the stool to undo my button and he did so eagerly, yet with a shaky hand.

A cheer went around the pub. There I was, exposed in my sexy black lingerie, with the young guy snapping away.

I was the centre of attention and I was loving it. It felt as if I had arrived. My free, wanton spirit was now released and unabashed.

Nothing was going to spoil this magical moment. Nothing!

Then Michael walked through the door.

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 11

Dear Diary. 

I don’t know where to start. Wow! My head is still spinning and trying to take it in as to what happened over the weekend. 

Did I really do all that? Me, this conservative wallflower, who has never looked at another man in that kind of way before, has overnight, opened her petals, blossemed into a new kind of glorious bloom and wants all the thirsty, greedy and horny propagators to fly in and devour her nectar.

I know!

As there is so much much to jot down, I’m going to have to split my diary entries over two parts, one for Saturday and one for Sunday. 

Right. Where do I begin? 

Firstly, Michael was right. I am a slut! A top of the class, gold star award winning slut!

I can’t believe it. Me, a slut! How the fuck did that happen?

I don’t know how, but I’m going to have to hide this diary from Jerry. He’d be mortified if he found out what I’ve been up to behind his back. 

Although I’m sure he’s had some ‘extra’ fun over the years. 

Anyway, my hot wife journey properly started when my cab arrived and the driver couldn’t believe his eyes.

There I was, exposed as such, in a cheap, thin short white cotton dress with my black underwear clearly visable underneath.

Bastard Michael. He knew that would happen. 

Sitting in the back of the cab, I would catch the driver glancing through his mirror, checking me out. Cheeky sod.

Well I don’t blaim him as, if I say so myself, I do look hot. 

Feeling tipsy and naughty, I thought I’d tease the driver and quickly parted my legs slightly to briefly show off my lacy panties. 

I caught him looking. It felt good. 

‘Are you going out with the girls tonight?’ he asked.

‘No. Just a friend.’

He smiled. ‘I see. That’s a nice outfit.’

‘Thank you. It’s what he wanted me to wear for him.’

Oh look at me being brave with my words. I blaim my pre drinkies. Always blaim the pre drinkies. 

‘Lucky friend.’

‘Yes he is.’

‘The Dog And Bone pub isn’t the best place to take a lady like you there for a date.’

‘Really? Why’s that?’

‘It’s really rough. All the baddens go there.’

‘Oh. I didn’t know that.’ I did.

‘I’d be careful if I were you. It may not be safe in there.’

‘I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it. Plus my friend will be there too. We’re not stopping, it’s just an easy place to meet up.’ I’m sure they all say that.

‘OK. Just thought I’d give you the heads up.’

‘That’s very kind of you. Thank you.’

That was nice of the driver to look out for me. It made me feel better. But that suddenly changed.

Just as we reached the pub’s car park, I received a text.

What does he want now?

Ping. ‘Sorry but my car has been playing up. Had to borrow one from work.’

Michael owns a few garages around Kent and Surrey, so he’ll have plenty of cars to pick from. 

Does that mean he’s not coming?

Ping. ‘I’m going to be about ten minutes late. Wait inside for me. Get a drink if you like. I won’t be long.’

Shit. I can’t believe that the bastard is making me go in to a strange pub looking like this and then have to wait for him. 

I told the cabbie my predicament and he asked if I wanted to wait in the cab with him until Michael came.

Of course the driver would want me to stay longer so that he could have a proper look. I said I’ll be OK.

What could possibly go wrong when I’ll only have a few minutes to wait for Michael? 

Having paid the cabby, I slipped out of the car, pulled my dress down as I think it accidentally slid up and gave the cabby a nice view of my bottom and walked up to the peeling main door.

Outside I could hear rock music seeping through the building but no vision to look inside as the windows were covered in alsorts of advertising or there were shabby red curtains blocking out the outside world. 

Should I go in? The cabbie was still there, watching me through the windscreen. I’m sure I could see his right arm moving up and down feverishly. Or it could be my imagination. Who knows?

I could go back home and disturb the cabbie from what he was doing as there’s no harm in calling the whole thing off, is there? It was a fifty, fifty decision. All my lifelines were gone left, I couldn’t ask the audience and I had no friend to call upon. It was up to me.

No, I’m not a time waster. I can do this. If I can stand up in a packed room and do a business speech in front of a bunch of powerful women, then I can easily step over the tatty threshold.

So what’s stopping me? I’m just nervous, that’s all. Who wouldn’t be?

Sod it, I thought. You only live once.

With that in mind, I brushed down my black bob wig, took a deep breath and entered the pub.

Here we go!

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahothife

Doing A Carol 10

Dear Diary. 

It’s a Saturday afternoon and I’m back working in my Surrey boutique, trying to do things to take my mind off about what’s going to happen tonight. 

I’m not sure if I’m scared, excited or stupid. Whatever it is, my stomach has been churing all day, cursed by a case of the dreaded first time nerves.

I’ve been chatting to Michael by text over the past week and he wants to make sure that I’m still OK about meeting him. 

Of course I am. I can’t wait. The weekend has taken ages to come around, with what seems as though the time had passed so slowly on purpose.  

I’ve been looking forward to today, ticking the days off mentally in my methodic mind and physically preparing my self with a series of ritual pre show waxing, moisturising and a general all over preening sessions. 

I’m not sure if Jerry has noticed that I had a spring in my step all week, but I have been a bit skittish and not my usual calm self. Who can blaim me?

Then I received this message from Michael. 

Ping. ‘Instructions. When we meet on Saturday night, I want you to wear black sexy underwear and stockings, a white or light coloured front buttoned up dress and a black wig.’

What? What’s his game? Is this his kink?

‘Why?’

Ping. ‘Because.’

Bastard.

Should I be annoyed by this, his arrogance, his ego and his demands? Or do I, in a strange submissive kind of way find this dominate side of him attractive and desirable? 

I should be the one giving him orders as he’s the one doing all the chasing as he wants to fuck my brains out.

I’m not used to being bossed about as that’s usually my job, so why am I giving him my power?

And why am I finding this unchartered territory unnerving, intriguing and interesting?

You can see my dilemma, can’t you? I so want him to take me, defile my aching body, crack the code, break the seal to Jerry’s personal pussy, make me dance diligently upon his loaded weapon and let me squirm within his flowing man juice. 

But I don’t want to seem easy and succumb to his demands. If I do, where would that lead me? Could I trust myself with him taking the lead?

I’m sure I could. I’m a big girl now! But what if I did allow him, want him to take charge for a change? There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? It’s just for fun! For shits and giggles.

Anyway, were consensual adults, now part of the sexual revolution, an awaking of sexual equality and balance. It’s not as if it’s going to be a full-time thing. Just a one off, isn’t it? 

Especially if it’s done on my terms. Is that so wrong? I don’t know. I’m really flustered at the moment. My brain isn’t functioning properly. It’s as though I’m a teenager again, going on my first date.

I don’t know what to expect tonight. My head is cloudy in anticipation and my heart is pounding heavily. 

I just want him to desire me as a woman, a goddess and a lover. And not to be treated like a piece of cheap meat laid out on the slabs of a shabby market stall for any Tom, Dick or Harry to have a fondle and grope. 

Mmm. Thinking about it, a threesome does sounds fun.

Back to the matter in hand, oh Diary, what am I going to do?

Silly question. We know that answer already, don’t we?

Ping. ‘Do you have everything as requested?’

Here we go.

‘Yes I do.’

Ping. ‘Good. Meet me tonight at 10pm in the Dog And Bone car park. It’s about five miles from the village. I’ll send you the post code.’

‘It ok. I’ve been passed that place many times. I thought it was closed down.’

Well it looks like it should be just by going on the outside decor. It’s a rundown place that’s renowned for its undesirable clientele, a so called spit and sawdust pub. Definitely ‘not’ the place to be seen in!

Ping. ‘No. It’s the perfect place for what I have in mind.’

‘And what’s that?’

Ping. ‘You’ll see. Remember to wear what I told you.’

‘It’s in my bag, ready for your pleasure, sir.’

Ping. ‘Mmm. Good girl. You’re making me hard just thinking about you in your sexy outfit.’

‘That’s what I want to hear. I can’t wait to see it and feel it when it’s hard.’

Ping. ‘You won’t be disappointed. ‘

‘I’m sure I won’t.’

Ping. ‘Good. I also have a surprise for you.’

Oh shit. I don’t do surprises. ‘What is it?’

Ping. ‘Can’t say, but you will enjoy it.’

Mysterious and exciting.

Ping. ‘Now wait for further instructions.’

Further instructions? What is this? 

Ping. ‘See you later my sexy slut.’

Slut? And now he’s calling me a slut! How can he call me that? We haven’t done anything yet! Well, I guess with what I’ll be wearing, it will be very revealing, that’s for sure. But it will be dark and no one will be able to see me. Thank goodness.

I looked at my watch that Jerry bought me for our anniversary last year.

Only a few hours to go. That will give me plenty of time to lock up the shop, have a bath, pamper myself and have a drink or too. I think I’ll need some Dutch courage, just enough to take the edge off tonight’s activities, don’t you?

Right, back to work. 

Oops, almost forgot. Need to book a cab. I mustn’t be late, must I? 

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 9

Dear Diary.

Poxy Michael. 

Poxy fucking Michael. 

He’s been messaging me all week. ‘How are you? Are you having a good day? What are you up to? Fancy a chat?’

Chat! Chat about what? There’s nothing to say. 

This week I’ve been exhausted with work, attending a few functions and ordering our new line in designer lingerie.

I’m not lying but it’s been tough juggling everything, so I’ve been trying to get some early nights. Jerry, on the other hand, likes to stay up late in his office and do his paperwork. He’s more of a night owl then me.

‘Hello. Yes I’m fine thanks,’ I replied bluntly. Trying not to give him any encouragement.

It’s 11pm and I’m struggling to read a book in bed, but can’t get into it. My mind is working over time. 

Ping. ‘I’m good too. Thanks for asking.’

I didn’t ask.

Ping. ‘When are you back down again?’ 

‘I don’t know.’ I did know, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

Ping. ‘Fancy a drink when you’re back?’

‘That will be nice. Thank you.  It would be great for Jerry and I to catch up with Sara and you.’ 

Ping. ‘I meant just the two of us.’

Shit. Here it comes. I must control myself. I must control myself. 

‘I’ll have to let you know when I’m free. I’m very busy at the moment.’

Ping. ‘A busy girl is a dull girl.’

‘I’m certainly not a dull girl.’ How rude!

Ping. ‘Prove it.’

‘What?’

Ping. ‘I said prove it.’

What is he saying? What is he asking? 

‘What do you mean prove it?’ 

Ping. ‘Take a picture.’

‘Of what?’ Knowing full well when he meant.

Ping. ‘Take a picture of yourself. A naughty picture.’

‘No way. Jerry’s in his office.’

Ping. ‘I dare you. Put that sexy basque and stockings on for me.’

I so want to, but shouldn’t. 

‘No.’

Ping. ‘Go on. You’ve seen me in my pants and my cock.’

‘That’s different.’

Ping. ‘How different?

‘It just is.’

Ping. ‘Go on. Nip into your bathroom and slip in to them for me. I know you want to.’

Damn it. Can he read my mind?

Ping. ‘It’s only fair!’

Shit. He’s got a point. I gave in. I know I shouldn’t as I’m a strong woman.

‘OK. Give me a few minutes.’

Ping. ‘I can’t wait.’

What have I promised? It’s only a picture, right? Nothing bad about that, is there?

Starting to get excited once more, I slipped out of bed, grabbed the lingerie from my chest of drawers and headed in to my bathroom. It’s a good job that Jerry and I have our own dressing rooms and bathrooms. 

With my outfit on, I sat on a chair and quickly took a headless selfie. 

Sent!

Now just waiting for a reply.

Nothing. So I took another picture, but this time I set the timer on my phone, sat on the edge of my bath and spred my legs. 

Sent. Still nothing.

What the fuck. What do you want? Oh, I know what you want.

One more go. This time I removed my knickers and took the same shot as before.

Ping. ‘Nice.’

‘Is that all you can say?’

Ping. ‘Sorry. I’m in my local with my work colleagues having drinks for one of their birthdays.’

‘Oh.’

Ping. ‘I’m gonna nip in the toilets and look at them properly. I don’t want anyone to see them.’

‘Nor do I!’  

Five minutes have gone by and no news, no pings and no replies.

Bastard!

I want his compliments. I want him to say that he likes what he sees. I want his cock.

Ping. ‘Wow. Fucking hot!’

About time.

‘Thanks. I’m glad you like.’

Ping. ‘You’ve got me hard.’

‘Good.’

Ping. ‘I’m wanking in the toilets over them.’

Classy!

‘That’s nice.’

Ping. ‘We need to meet up.’

‘Yes.’

Shit. I’ve sent a wrong message. Meant to have said ‘oh.’ Poxy subconscious. 

Ping. ‘Great. Will look forward to that.’

What the hell. ‘Me too.’

Ping. ‘Can’t wait to fuck you.’

And there it is.

‘I bet.’ 

Ping. ‘Sorry. Been drinking lots.’

‘That’s OK.’

Ping. ‘Would love to kiss your pussy.’

Wow. Not even Jerry’s done that to me.

‘That’s nice.’

Ping. ‘Stop teasing me.’

‘Am I?’

Ping. ‘You know you are. I saw you looking at me in the car.’

‘I can’t complain. It was a nice view.’

Ping. ‘Well you’ll be able to see it close up soon.’

‘Yes.’ I can’t wait.

Ping. ‘Gotta go as the boys will be wondering where I am.’

‘Well we don’t want to upset the boys now, do we?’

Ping. ‘No, you won’t upset them.’

What’s that supposed to mean?

Ping. ‘Speak soon.’

‘Night.’ Then silence. 

Well that’s it then. The seed has been planted. Now I need to get undressed before Jerry catches me in this garb.

I then quickly got undressed and just reached the bed as Jerry entered the room. Poor sod. We wished each other a goodnight and then I happily fell asleep.   

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 8

Dear Diary.

For some reason, sex with Jerry the other night had shifted slightly.  

I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or bad thing, but it’s definitely shifted.

The routine of what we tend to do had changed, with Jerry suddenly improvising his moves and catching me somewhat off guard. 

Was it because of my new sexy lingerie that caused an interest? Did that excite Jerry? Is that his thing?

Whatever it was, our playtime routine was not its usual wham-bam-thank-you-mam, in and out, job done and here’s your certificate.

I noticed that there were a flicker of fire in Jerry’s eyes. A phoenix arising from the ashes moment. It was brief, but it was there. Just.

Or could it be it me, giving out the wrong signals to Jerry, still thinking of those naughty pictures Michael had sent me, tempting me to see and feel the real thing, his snake of seduction?

If so, the game had now changed during half time, only for the old, tired team to be retired and replaced with a fresh and frisky new invigorated group of fit young players to win the match and bring home the cup.

And, as I was going to find out, there are more ways to hold the glistening trophy of satisfaction high in jubilation and celebrate the liberation to my journey of sexual transformation.   

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 7

Dear Diary. 

It’s been nearly a week since that party and what went on afterwards and things are back to usual. Well, sort of.

I’ve been mostly working from home this week doing some online research in to a new line of products. And in my Essex store we’ve been busy dressing harrased and excitable ladies as there’s a few local parties and functions coming up and they all want to look their best.

The golf and tennis clubs are having their annual dinner and dance functions, as well as a celebrity promised charity ball being held at a local hotel and gardens. So anyone who is anyone that’s attending all three of these events will need to have a different gown and it’s my job to make sure that no one turns up in the same outfit.

Luckily for me, I have my outfits already as Maisy has come up with some incredible designs. They’re all originals and have been made especially for me.   

They’re not fancy in anyway, as I don’t do fancy, so my gowns are simple and classic in design, yet embellished with a splash of beading.  

I haven’t stocked Maisy’s collection in my Essex store yet as I want to test them out and see what the sales are like in my Surrey store.

So far the figures look promising and Maisy is causing a stir by bringing in new customers and making my old customers spend more. 

With my own gowns ready, covered and stored away and my hair and nails appointment is booked, it’s back to work to pay for all this glamour. 

Sara sent a message to apologise for her walking out of the party and I said not to worry.

She said that Michael always embarrasses her in one way or another and I told her not to worry as we didn’t mind and that I couldn’t remember most of what he did. I lied. I said, what I can recall, we thought it was funny and she was ok with that. 

Sara can be a bit uptight like that and worry what people think of her. I’ve learnt not to be bothered so much. Yes I have a standard and an appearance to maintain, but to be concerned about stuff that I can’t control, I’m not going to carry any unnecessary baggage as people have their own troubles than to worry about me.

Michael messaged me in the week to see if I was alright. I acted casual and answered as normal as possible, trying not give him anymore leeway or excuses for another online session. 

It was fun, but that had caused me too much anxiety, especially when I arrived home and saw poor Jerry watching the football on our big screen in our games room.

Pleased to see me, Jerry gave me a hug and we chatted about the weekend and the party. He asked if I had fun and bought anything. I said I won a finger size vibrator and showed him my black basque and stockings. 

He looked as if his pecker had pricked up and deemed more interested than usual.

He’s not seen me in anything like that so I guess his interest was aroused. I’m sure Michael would love to see me walk about in my new lingerie, bending over for him provocatively so that he could seductively stroke my black seemed stockings clad legs.

Jerry, on the other hand would be happy watching his beloved sports or have his head buried deep in his account books 

I mustn’t complain as he’s very caring and gives me anything that I need. I can’t ask for more. 

The only thing missing is the great sex we used to have. Now it’s scheduled in our diaries as we’re both busy. But I don’t think it will be scheduled in this diary. If so, they’d be nothing to write about. 

Now if it were Michael…  

#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 3

Dear Diary.

My manager Marta, who runs my Surrey boutique, her daughter Maisy has just graduated from fashion college and has created a line of women’s ready to wear gowns and asked me if I could have a look at them and give her some advice.

Not a problem. I’m always glad to help and promote new talent when I can. Especially when people are starting their own business’. 

I have to say, she did have a few dresses that caught my eye and I would definitely wear some of them. So I said that I will display them in my shop on a sale or return basis, just try them out. It’s a win win situation for both of us.

I’m sure my customers will love her elegant style as they’re always looking out for the next new thing and my ladies do love a bit of glitz and glam too! I have to admit, so do I.

So being the nice person that I am (unless I’m restraining my cuckolded husband under my four inch black patent heels, more of that to come) I gave her the green light and now her first collection, however limited her range is at the moment, is being fonderly fumbled by the moisturised bejeweled fingers of the privilege Surrey Set.   

Now Diary, you’re wondering where I’m going with this, aren’t you?

Well, the seed of my naughtiness was planted that day when I was invited to a party. But it wasn’t any ordinary party.

To thank me for helping her daughter’s friend, Maisy was going to host one of those ladies only lingerie and toys party as her friend had just become a sales representative and needed help to build her business.

With mixed feelings of firstly, wanting to help out a fellow business woman and secondly, knowing that this wasn’t my kind of thing back then as Jerry and I hadn’t had sex for a while at that time due to both of us being really tired and my labedo was low, I felt pulled from all angles.

Not wanting to let Maisy and her friend down as I don’t think those kind of representatives earn a lot of commission from doing that kind of work as they have to initially fork out a considerable amount of money just to buy the basic sales kit (unless they earn money from their own teams) and after a few begs and a promise of a having a laugh, I reluctantly said yes as Maisy had successfully twisted my arm.

What have let myself in for?

Who knows as I had never been to anything like that and didn’t know what to expect. 

As Marta was also reluctant about attending the party, we both made a pack that we’d stay for an hour out of politeness, buy something small to help Maisy’s friend and then we would make a quick exit. 

Well, that was the plan.  

 #kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 2

Part 2.

Dear Diary.

Let’s talk about sex.

Over the past few years, sex with Jerry has been very vanilla. You know, the obvious obligatory weekly missionary position where the basics take place with no whistles or bells. No earth shattering shudders up the spine and no tingling in the groin area.

When we first got together, Jerry and I did have fun under the sheets and went at it like rabbits.

But over the years, that had  dwindled off as our careers took precedence and we hardly saw each other except at the weekends. And then the sex ended up like a simple dot to dot puzzle where the end picture is always guaranteed to be a simple and uninspiring finish. 

I’m sure Jerry must have been getting his end away somewhere as he wasn’t getting it at home. Or I should say, not much at home. My shop was shut, big time and no one was going to open my shutters! 

I didn’t mind as my metabolism and sexual desire had dived to an all time low. As long as he came back home to me after his little affairs, then that’s all I wanted at the time.

The key to his bank balance was more important than a map to his pants and him parking his used car into my garage. 

Unfortunately, due to complications with my inner workings, I wasn’t able to have any children, so I’m guessing that gave Jerry an excuse to release some fluid frustration and find intimacy elsewhere.

But these days, things have come back to full circle and we’re now swinging from the chandelier. In one way or another.

#doingacarol #talesofahotwife

Doing A Carol 1

Dear Diary. 

Where shall I start?

My name is Carol Debbie Banks. I’m 50 years old and happily married to Jerry Banks, a smart, yet average looking man who owns a busy accountancy firm in the heart of the City. We’ve been married for 20 years now and we live very comfortably within the Essex triangle. For those who don’t know where that it, it’s formed from the towns of Buckhurst Hill, Chigwell and Loughton.

Some people who don’t know me may call me a slut, slag, the local bike, whore and a nymphomaniac. But I prefer to be called a hot wife. 

As well as running my two profitable and successful designer boutiques called Banks, aimed at the ‘ladies who lunch’ brigade, I have an active social life where I sit on several charity committees, dutifully attend any of my hubby’s work functions and have a great circle of friends who are always there for me.

Regarding my business’, I love fashion and have worked in that exciting and glamorous industry for many years. And now (with thanks for my lovely hubby who has put his money where his mouth is and has invested in me) I have total control of what I sell and how much money I can make for my high maintenance lifestyle and for my after hours curricular activities.

Towering over my friends, I am tall in stature. Well, 5′ 10″ compared to Jerry who is 5′ 8″. He maybe smaller than me, but makes up for it with the devotion and love he bestows upon me. I can’t ask for more than that. Or can I?

To maintain my polished appearance (though to be fair and don’t tell anyone as I’ve had some work done with a few nips, tucks and fillers over the years) I try to go to the gym twice a week, not just to stay in shape as someone in my circle should do, but to meet up with Marco, my fit, hot blooded Italian personal fitness instructor who knows how to get into all of my nooks and crannies with his delving, yet tender fingers.

I’m so lucky to have this young, sexy Latin stud in my stable, as he knows my body inside and out, generously helps me with my stretches and offers a ‘helping hand’ on those dreadful torture chamber like contraptions that puts you into alsorts of contortions which leaves you helpless and with no modesty left to hide. 

I’m happy that Marco doesn’t mind my ‘gym glow’, given the fact that he has been found with his head buried between my moist, supple legs after a heavy work out on occasion. 

And now that I’ve reached the big Five O and entered the dark side of when the fun is supposed to start, I decided to grab the bull by the horns and try new things. So much so I have recently treated myself by having a drastic make over with all of my glossy brown hair chopped off and styled into a feathered, pixie look. This look is now easy to maintain and also easy to cover up when I’m dressed up in one of my many naughty disguises.

Jerry’s not impressed with my new look as he loved to grab my hair during our throes of passion, but I needed a new transformation which is going to take me into my new era of sexual awakening.

Yes, it’s a complete change from my usual long luscious look, breaking away from those Essex big hair clones, but I do like to stand out and give people something to talk about.

Don’t you?