Written by Robin
5 Aug 2011
The man in the photographs- part two
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Orgasm hardly relieved me. It simply dampened my lust, replacing it with a sense of shame and humiliation at how I was dressed and what I had been wanking over. I stripped off and showered, removing all traces of make up.
It was a long wait before my wife Caroline returned home. By now her working clothes were nearly always matching fitted tight knee length skirts and jackets, silk or nylon blouses, black stockings (sometimes seamed) and high heels. She looked very pretty in full make, jewellery, up and fragrant with Chanel No5 perfume.
Even aged 52, her size 8 figure meant she looked very girlie. She ha good skin and looks lovely, even without make up. Her 34c breasts looked very big because of her slight build. Even though she was barely five feet tall, her legs looked as if they went on forever, made so very more slender by her high heels.
Of course her body had never endured the demands of child birth. She had become pregnant twice in the 1980s but decided on abortions because she had wanted to pursue her career. She said her contraceptive coil had failed. I remember being surprised because we hadn't been fucking her a lot back then. On the few occasions I had fucked her, it had been in bed and she seemed shy about me seeing her nude. She said she felt so tired from work that she thought it was telling on her appearance,
Even so, I realised when I touched her under her nightie, that she had started shaving her pussy. The sight of her stripping off the expensive clothes she was wearing for undercover police work and seeing her in luxurious lace trimmed panties, suspender belts and panties was arousing enough. But knowing that the proud mound and slit, outlined through the clinging sheer material of her panties was bald, made me want to fuck her so hard.
I had asked her why she shaved it if she didn't want me to see it. She said it was to keep her cooler down there and ward of thrush. I knew she had complained of having thrush on a number of occasions and often seemed to have trouble walking. I recall getting very excited fucking her bald pussy that she was obviously in pain, though this did not stop her having several intense orgasms while I also pulled hard on her tits, ramming myself deep inside her. She was so uncomfortable afterwards that she rushed to the bathroom. Before she could clamp some tissue over her her bald pussy, I glimpsed her puffy inflamed sex slit. I couldn't believe the damage I had done. I felt disgusted and very guilty. Afterwards, I was always respectful about sex and never made great demands. That was when I turned to wearing her clothes and imagined men ramming themselves into me, making me climax as I imagined other men making her climax.
It was a shame about the abortions because it seemed only to have been a matter of luck that I ever made her pregnant those first two times. It seemed we had left it too late to have children at thirty. But tests showed that I had as very low sperm count. The doctor said it was a miracle I had ever managed to impregnate Caroline in the first place.
All those memories came flooding back as I beheld my wife looking very prim and proper in her little pink business suit, black stockings and high heels. My prick was busting at the thought of what she had been up to with that ugly looking brute feeling her up and snogging her in the photographs I had found among the things of hers that she had been getting ready for our move. Of course those sexy feelings were tinged with jealousy. But the sexual thoughts overwhelmed me. I just wondered how on earth I was going to ask her. But I had to ask her, my prick would not allow me to do otherwise.