Written by Robert

9 Apr 2011

I did a lot of wanking that night in my hotel room. After each orgasm, the idea of Jessica being used by Pakistanis, or being any kind of escort, did not seem such a good idea. Wanking so much made me sleepy and I nearly missed my meeting. The whole two days in France seemed to last forever. Images of Jessica with Pakistanis in the massage parlour kept coming back to me. I was even wanking in the client’s toilets.

At last I was back in England. I was on full expenses and hoped that another dirty-minded Pakistani back home would drive my taxi. Unfortunately it was a pot bellied balding Englishman in his mid forties.

But my mind was so full of sex; I just had to get the conversation onto the subject.

Just as I was wondering how to do this, as we were preparing to pull away from the terminal building, a very attractive middle aged woman wearing an obviously expensive tailored skirt and jacket walked out of a terminal doorway with a very well dressed middle aged man. He was pushing luggage trolley while she strutted her stuff, visibly looking down her nose at the world around her. Judging by her immaculate permed blonde hair, it was obvious that the little creature had been teetering around on high heels and being spoiled for years. I could not help noticing that my taxi driver was also ogling the tight skirted woman who’s slender black stocking clad legs made an erotic contrast to her blue silk business suit.

‘I seized my chance, she is rather stunning isn’t she? I ventured. Fuckin’ hell she is’ said the sad looking old man at the wheel. ‘Wish I was bleedin’ well married to a posh tart like that. Cunt’s beggin’ for it.’

The taxi moved slowly past the wealthy looking couple. Her well made up face looked in our direction, but not seeming to see us. ‘Are you married?’ I asked hesitantly. ‘No, wish I was, but I’d never get a posh tart like that.’

‘So do you have a girlfriend?’ I asked cautiously. Looking at his three chins and smelling his sweat, I guessed the answer to my question before he said: ‘no, never had one. Have to use tarts, but I could never get a posh tart, on my money. Love to though. I’d give the bitch a right seein’ to. She’d fuckin’ well know she’d had me up her, me hands an’ all. I’d like a nice tight little cunt, no fucking ‘air on the fuck hole. I’d fuck it so fucking ‘ard she wouldn’t walk for a fortnight.’

‘Hum’ I said, struggling for a suitable reply and hoping to keep the conversation on sex and fantasies about my pretty little high-class wife.

‘How about you? You married? He looked at me briefly, weighing me up. I felt very exposed and knew I was going to tell him too much. It didn’t seem to matter because I’d never see him again.

‘I envy you havin a missus. You can get it when you want it. Must be good’ he ventured. I wasn’t sure where the conversation was going, but I knew I wanted to expose my wife to him in some verbal way. For certain, if he pictured her, his sort would want to do rough things with her, just like the Pakistani. He was the sort to go to massage parlour wear the girls wore cheap clothes and flashed ugly thighs encased in tacky fishnet stockings. If he had the chance of seeing someone like Jessica, he would not believe his luck and would go crazy. His hands would be all over her.

I desperately wanted to see into his filthy mind. ‘What’s your wife like?’ he asked and for a moment I thought he meant what was she like in bed. If he had meant that, I still decided to just describe her. I gave him a clear impression of her physical appearance, slim, barely five feet tall, petite and always in expensive clothes, high heels, perfumed and made up, golden brown curls. That did the trick, ‘Fuck me, you sound as if you are really getting off telling me all that.’ I flushed with embarrassment, my prick growing stiffer. I guessed I sounded more perverted than the taxi driver sounded and looked did. I knew I was because I had a hard on. I was deliberately winding him up, but it looked like back firing.

We hit the motorway and drove along in silence for a short while. Then he repeated his question, ‘You do get off on it don’t you. No need to be embarrassed. I watch a lot of porn and a bloke I know makes rough sex porn films. You’d be surprised by the sort of women he gets in his films, really posh sorts like your wife. I could get him to give you a ring if you want to really show her off.’

My hand was shaking when I wrote my number on the back of the envelope he handed me. His words excited me almost beyond my powers of endurance. Now the ice was broken, I decided to tell him all about my dirty thoughts. I never expected any consequences, and couldn’t have stopped myself even if I had. My excitement had started in my head, rushed to my loins and was now in charge of everything I said to this strange man of dirt, lust, deprivation and contempt for his so called betters- people like me. How I would enjoy his and the contempt of others like him. I was opening a real can of worms.

‘I expect your wife is always dressed up nice’ said the driver lasciviously.


‘Does she wear stockings and suspenders?’

I gulped. ‘Yes’ I said. As with the other taxi driver, I was getting hard in my pants, but I couldn’t see this one getting his hand on my cock. Instinct told me cocks were not his thing.

‘Bet she wears a lot of fancy underwear.’

‘Yes, she does.’

I was worried about distracting this heavy breathing fat man from his job of driving me home. He kept looking at me; his face full of chins and beady eyes had a hint of cruelty about it.

‘What sort of things, is it expensive stuff? What colours does she wear? You know you want me to know. You’d like me to look up her skirt, I bet.

I gulped. ‘Yes it is expensive, satin and lace stuff, slips, suspender belts and panties. Sometimes she wears seamed stockings, which I like. She likes black, white, blue and yellow undies, lots of matching sets.’

The taxi was automatic and I saw his left hand touch the crotch of his jeans. ‘And would you like me to look up her skirt, so I could see her panties and stocking tops?’

‘Yes I would.’

‘So maybe you can get her in those porn films. Then I could see it all, along with a lot of other sad deprived bastards like me. You and your wife would be doing us a service.’

‘I doubt very much I could get my wife to do something like that.’

He picked up my intonation, replying: ‘But you would if you could?

‘Yes’ I would, I replied with a sense of relief that I was sharing my dirty desires with this seedy fat man who was now openly rubbing the large bulge that had appeared in his jeans. I was very sexually excited.

He went on to ask some very sexually explicit questions about how many lovers my wife had before marrying me. He got very turned on when I told him that she had rebelled against her parents by having a Rastafarian boyfriend ten years older than her, when she was 18. Quick as a flash he said: ‘so she likes big black cock then. That’ll be good in the porno films.’

Oh my God, this was all too much for my prick. I had to rub it. I didn’t care what he thought. ‘Go on get the little pecker out and play with yourself. Bet you’d like me to play with your wife’s fine pussy. Bet its bald like my head mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm’

That was too much. I had my cock out and was rubbing it slowly, but gripping hard. Then he mocked me: ‘you aren’t very big are you? Ha, ha, ha, ha. It ain’t fair. I got a big long fat dick and no posh chick. You got a little pencil dick and you got the chick.’ That did it. His mockery was too much. I rubbed furiously and came hard out of embarrassment and humiliation. It shot down on the car’s carpet.’

‘I ought to make you lick that up you dirty little fucker. And all because you want nasty ugly bastards like me to fuck your little wife.

My excitement was not over because when we arrived at my secluded home, the driver asked me if he could use one of our toilets. I could hardly refuse him. My prick and balls tingled when I told him of my plan. He eagerly agreed to spend as long as possible in our toilet, Very kindly he carried my bag to the door. I paid and tipped him, then let us in with my key.

Jessica had heard us arrive and came prancing into the hall, wearing a closely fitting knee length black silk skirt and a transparent nylon blouse. I could see she was wearing a pretty white satin and lace slip underneath. The bra cups looked very pretty and feminine and flattered her lovely pert tits. Her figure hugging clothes rubbing against black silk stockings certainly got the taxi driver’s attention. This was something she had not failed to notice. She may have been well made up, but I knew she was blushing.

‘Down the corridor and first on the right.’ I said to the taxi driver. ‘Thanks he said. I’ll be a few minutes, as I have to do a big job. ‘ I watched his big wobbling bum and tried not to imagine him dropping a load. Then I had an idea.

My hard on pressing against my trousers, I threw my arms around my wife, breathing in the fragrance of her intoxicating and far too expensive perfume. Backing her up against the passage wall, I pulled her skirt and slip up and felt her cunt through tight sheer panties. She responded to my kiss. Her cherry painted and pouting lips felt so sexy, I couldn’t help gripping her hard, Urgently my fingers were inside her gusset and feeling her sex lips.

Her clitoris was soon engorged. Turning her and pressing her against the entrance hall wall, I started fingering her for all she was worth. My thumb brushed her smooth mound and then her clitoris. Knowing that man was in the house, I was about to pop in my pants. She was moaning loudly. I struggled to pull her skirt and slip high above the tight vee of her panties.

Her golden brown curls were shaking from side to side and her mound starting to spasm. Pushing hard against my mound, her well made up face wearing an expression that mixed agony with ecstasy. She looked exquisitely vulnerable.

I pulled the pantie gusset right away from her pussy and looked down at her moist slit as she started to cum very strongly. Using three fingers in her, made a very wet slurping sound.

She still had her eyes closed when I became aware of the big fat taxi driver crouching down behind me. He was trying to feel my wife’s pussy. To cover him, I pressed my face to Jessica’s, kissing her hard and probing her mouth with my tongue. At the same time, I dropped my hand to my side to make way for his. A sharp pained and stifled moan assured me that he was fingering her in her last moments of cumming. Then she was moaning more. I could hear his fingers slurping inside her. It was incredible. She is multi orgasmic and was cumming again on the dirty old man’s fingers. I held her tightly as he bucked between me an the wall. I breathed hard to cover the sound of the interloper’s breathing. But she was making so much noise and cumming so hard, I knew she wouldn’t hear him.

She was still moaning when the man pulled his fingers away and backed down the passage. I chose the moment to rub her mound and hope she had not noticed the fact that another hand had felt her so intimately.

Moments later the man came along the passage, acting as if he were surprised to see what was going on. My wife’s bald pussy was still on display and he was feasting on the sight. Slowly opening her eyes, she looked horrified and was trying to pull her skirt down, but my hands stayed deliberately in the way as I turned to look at the taxi driver who was staring brazenly between my wife’s legs.

She was furious with me after he had gone, but I took little notice. While she let off steam, I read my e-mails. My eyes were drawn to one from my boss. Jessica’s words were just a shrill drill like noise in the background because my main concern was that I had just been made redundant. Things were just getting worse. I couldn’t see myself getting another post on my salary in the present economic climate. There would be generous redundancy, but Jessica or I would have to find some sort of employment if we were to have any chance of keeping our house, let alone the lifestyle. On the up side, I now had the perfect excuse to persuade my lovely young wife to take up work in the sex industry. I had been given two contacts. I wondered if I could persuade her to take one or both of them.