Written by Carolyn
7 Dec 2015
No longer a sexually frustrated wife
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12 minute read
I started writing this months ago. Most of it was written soon after the events, just for our own entertainment. Then I discovered SH and thought I might submit it, but on the occasions I had time, no stories had been uploaded for days or more recently the counter indicated that no one was viewing stories and I wasn't sure if the site was working. Consequently I just carried on writing and this has turned into a very long story which I think I am going to have to upload in parts.
I don't imagine I'm unique. Married, bored and whilst not looking to be unfaithful, ripe for a bit of excitement. My husband wasn't satisfying me and didn't seem interested in “spicing things up” It wasn't as if we married to young, I was 25, my husband a year older and both relatively sexually experienced. I'd had ten or so sexual partners. The sex was OK at first, not earth shattering but fairly regular. Even that only lasted a couple of years becoming more and more irregular. The main problem was that he was intensely ambitious, the work-life balance wrong, his career seemed more important to him, than me. He volunteered for extra tasks, worked long hours. A supposedly romantic break was ruined by him being constantly on his phone and laptop. Seeing him trying to impress and ingratiate himself to his bosses at functions I attended with him, was enough to make me cringe.
Now, nearly five years later, thirty years old, sexually frustrated, I couldn't help wondering if I hadn't missed out. To be honest I already knew that some other people had much more adventurous sex lives. Having said that the only first-hand proof I had was from about two years ago. The house next door was let and the Dave and Julie who rented it for about 6 months used the trampoline, left by the owner, for nocturnal sex sessions.
I only discovered by accident when I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom at the rear of our house and heard something rhythmically squeaking. Curious what the noise was at about half past one in the morning I looked out of the back bedroom window. There was enough light shining from the house and a full moon for me to see the them fucking, both naked, Julie straddling the Dave, bouncing up and down on his cock. I was shocked at first, but it didn't stop me watching, staying until they'd finished. By the time they both came, I was playing with my pussy and brought myself to orgasm before creeping back into bed with my husband.
After that, whenever I woke in the night it became a habit to go in the back bedroom, pull back the curtain and peep out the window to see if they were there. Sometimes it was to dark to see much. Before they moved out I saw them fucking or her giving him a blow job several times. Twice they were joined by another guy and they both fucked Julie. I masturbated much more often than I had in the past, imagining it was me outdoors having sex, and that someone was watching. It was only on the day they left that they told me they saw the curtains moving, knew I'd been watching, hoped I'd enjoyed their shows and that they'd considered inviting my to join them. I laughed nervously with embarrassment, probably blushed, half wishing they had invited me, though I'm not sure if I'd have been brave enough to accept.
That night when my husband was sleeping, I lay awake thinking about what they'd said. It was after midnight when I went into the spare bedroom looking out the window at the empty trampoline. I undid my gown, started fingering myself, thinking about Dave and Julie. I had an idea, went downstairs, opened the back door. All quiet, the other houses in darkness. I crept out, crossed the shared drive, opened the side gate and slipped into the next door garden. I could see the trampoline in the dim moonlight. I stopped and listened, total silence. I hurried over to the trampoline. I almost lost my nerve, but the thought of being so naughty spurred me on. I took my gown off and feeling very wicked, climbed on to the trampoline naked. It squeaked. It sounded incredibly loud and I froze.
I waited, nothing happened. I relaxed. Carefully wriggling into the centre I lay back. I touched my tits, my nipples were hard. I opened my legs and touched my pussy. I'd been playing with myself in the house but I was much wetter than usual. How I wished that they had asked me to join them. I began to masturbate, imagining that the three of us were on the trampoline. I found it erotic and in my imagination Dave was fucking me from behind, Julie sitting in front of me, legs spread fingering herself. I don't know where the thought came from, but in my fantasy I lowered my head between her legs and performed cunnilingus on her. It's not something I'd ever consciously considered, but the scenario aroused me. Masturbating frantically I had an intense orgasm, having difficulty preventing myself from screaming out as I came. I used the trampoline three more times before new people moved in two weeks later.
Fucking in the garden or somewhere outdoors became what I based my fantasies on whenever masturbating. In my imagination I was being fucked by a stranger, watched by several other guys. Sometimes I'd imagine that more than one guy fucked me an idea which I found extremely exciting, probably because it was the rudest thing I could imagine and something I never thought I could do for real. Much as I enjoyed my secret sessions, my frustration grew, particularly when I listened jealously to some of the things the women I work with got up to. At least two were having affairs, and one to my knowledge was picking up guys for casual sex whenever her husband was away. I felt jealous of them, resenting the fact that they were getting more than their fair share of cock and I was getting hardly any.
That is until early this year when a guy called Nick moved his horse to the livery stables where I keep my horse and was given the stable opposite mine, the end two in the block. He had an expensive 4x4, horsebox, obviously comfortably off owning a successful business. I was pleasantly surprised that he was so down to earth, not to mention quite handsome and we hit it off immediately. There were rumours that he left his last stables, because he had been shagging someone's wife. According to a friend of a friend he had split with his last partner because he couldn't keep his cock in his trousers and liked “kinky sex” That just made him more interesting to me.
Though he could easily afford to pay someone to muck out and feed his horse, he chose to do it himself. Usually we were the only ones there early mornings. He was older than me, mid to late thirties, fit and athletic which I found attractive. I have quite a trim 34C – 25 - 36 figure. The twice daily manual work keeps me slim and fit, lifting and carrying bales and hay nets improves my upper body, keeping my tits, pert and firm. I think my best features are my bum and legs. Nick certainly noticed my bum especially when I was wearing jodhpurs, just as I couldn't help noticing his muscular thighs, not to mention the outline of what appeared to be quite a good sized cock when he wore his.
As I got to know him better I let him pick straw my hair, brush it from my back and shoulders or arms. His touch excited me, I didn't object when his fingers briefly touched the side of my tits, nor when he brushed straw or hay of my bum. In fact I returned the favour, playfully brushing non-existent straw off his bum. Just flirting and messing about no more.
He's a more experienced rider than me and helped improve my skills. It sent a shiver through me when he touched my thigh, adjusting my position. Even more exciting was when the horse suddenly moved, his hand slipped and I landed on it, trapping it between the saddle and my pussy. I'd clamped my knees together as he steadied me with his other hand and it was several seconds before he could move his hand from my pussy. He apologised and I made a joke of it saying something about the horse could move as often as it liked if that's what happened. He laughed and looking me in the eyes said he wouldn't mind either.
A few days later he touched my pussy again, this time not accidentally. We were alone in the tack room. He was squeezing passed. I didn't move to give him more space, playfully wiggling my bum against him. He put his hands on my waist, I leant back and he kissed my neck which always turns me on. I didn't stop him when his hands cupped my tits, then drifted lower, fingers touching my pussy through my jodhpurs. He took my hand placed it on his cock and I stroked him through his clothes until he was erect. We were both getting carried away. He had slipped his hand down the front of my jodhpurs, fingers inside my panties, stroking my pubes, almost touching the top of my pussy, when we heard someone and had to stop.
After they'd gone we started kissing again. He pulled his zip down and got his cock out. I took it in my hand and began to stroke it. I felt it growing and stiffening. We broke the kiss, I looked down at his cock. Thick, tipped by a large bulbous knob, heavily veined, a good 8 inches, his pubic hair short, little more than stubble. He slipped his hand back inside my panties, whispered in my ear that he wanted to fuck me. I was aroused, desperately wanted him too, but wasn't ready to go that far yet and offered to toss him off while he fingered me. Resting my head against his chest I began wanking his cock. I watched as it grew rock hard in my hand, squeezing it gently, spreading the precum oozing from the tip over his glans.
He'd unfastened my jodhpurs, pulled them and my panties down my thighs. His fingers delved into my sopping pussy, rubbing my clit. My will power began to waver, but somehow I managed to refuse again when he said he wanted to fuck me. He didn't exactly take no for an answer “Suck it instead” he urged, removing his hand from my pussy, up the back of my top, deftly unfastening my bra, before pulling the cups away from my tits.
He cupped my right breast, rolling the nipple between finger and thumb. I sighed as it became hard, wanking his erection faster. “Suck my cock. You know you want too” he murmured seductively, releasing my boob, turning me to face him, hands on my waist. “Just a quick suck” I responded, nervous at the risk of being caught, but excited by my recklessness. I felt him grip my top pulling it and my bra up over my head. I briefly released his prick allowing him to remove my upper clothing, before he put his hands on my shoulders, gently pushing me down. Squatting in front of him I took his cock back in my hand began to kiss and lick it, then took the glans between my lips and sucked an inch or two into my mouth.
He lightly held my head while I sucked him for three or four minutes, taking perhaps half his shaft in my mouth. He grunted he was getting close, began to move his hips, fucking my mouth, without trying to shove his cock in to far. In the past, by this stage I'd have stopped, turned my head away and tossed him off. Instead I began to suck harder, reflexively swallowing, gulping his semen down, when he ejaculated two or three times.
As I fastened my bra and put my top back on, I savoured the taste of his spunk in my mouth, briefly wondering if sucking another guys cock counted as being unfaithful. Smiling to myself I decided it probably did. We kissed passionately, my arms wrapped around his neck, him fondling my bum. I didn't want to let go of him because I wouldn't be seeing him again for over a week. By the time we departed for our respective homes I'd promised that when he returned he could fuck me. That evening, when my husband came home, I didn't feel remotely guilty. I looked the same and there was nothing to make him suspicious. I'd swallowed all the yummy incriminating evidence.
Nick was going away the next day, for a weeks holiday to Maspalomas which meant nothing to me at the time, but is no doubt familiar to many of you. I'd agreed to look after his horse which didn't involve to much extra because spring had arrived and they'd not long been turned out in the fields. However, I missed him desperately the whole week. During the day at work I was unable to concentrate. Most nights, after my husband had gone to sleep, I slipped out of bed, went down stairs and lay on the sofa quietly masturbating, thinking about Nick, regretting that I hadn't let him fuck me before he'd gone away.
One consolation though. He was due back the day before a barbecue at the stables. My husband disliked horses, rarely came to the stables and on the few occasions he had he made comments about horses which hadn't gone down well. He probably wouldn't have wanted to go but I told him that he wasn't invited because he'd “pissed off” people. Not strictly true but not far off the mark and it meant I could spend the evening with Nick, fulfil my promise and let him fuck me.
This is probably as good a place as any to break for now. There are another 20 or so pages. Assuming anyone's interested in reading them, please comment whether you'd prefer me to continue splitting the story or upload it all in one go. I'm a very accommodating girl and will do whatever the majority want.