My wife becomes a true slut by manticore

The true story of my wife’s first step into a wider worldAt the time of this tale, Sarah and I had been married for some eighteen years. So far, we had had a happy and conventional marriage, nothing out of the ordinary. Our sex life had developed with time and was now most enjoyable.

It had not always been that way. Sarah’s mother had been a total prude, quite Victorian in her outlook, also bitter and twisted. Sarah was told, from an early age, that ‘Sex was sordid, messy and disgusting but was one of those things that a wife had to put up with as part of her duty”. Yes, she actually used the word duty. Needless to say, Sarah was an only child.

She had been much under her mother’s thumb, only really getting any real freedom when she went to university. She was, of course, a virgin when we met and actually sill one when we married. Which was as soon as she had finished university. I was 28, she was 21, 5’ 3”, very pretty, nicely rounded with beautiful tits and was great fun to be with (over the years she has put on weight, her tits have got a lot, lot bigger but she is still very sexy and great fun).

It took several years of marriage to get her to lose the instilled inhibitions and to get to the point where she would not only enjoy sex but would initiate things that she had been taught were ‘disgusting and perverted’. She adored wearing sexy clothing, wigs and heavy makeup and generally acting the slut in the privacy of the bedroom. We often discussed our fantasies. I would often tell her I wanted to see her being fucked another man or even men, how I wanted to see her on her knees sucking another guy off and then laying back spreading her legs, guiding his cock into her cunt and letting him fuck her while I watched. At first, she seemed shocked by this but quickly accepted it and would join in and describe what she wanted to do with another man. When we had these discussions she would often ask if I really wanted her to become a such a slut and I would say I did This always turned us both on and usually heralded a heated session between the sheets.

Though I often fantasised about watching her fuck other men, I always considered that it was just one of those things you talked about to bring extra spice to those intimate moments. After all, outside those times in the bedroom, Sarah usually appeared, to the world, to be rather prim and a quite prudish. If you asked most of our neighbors, they would probably describe her as being very strait laced, uptight or standoffish. She is, after all, on several village committees and does work for several local charities. All that changed one June Saturday evening.

Bob was a neighbor. He was single, a farmer in his early thirties who lived on the family farm with his older brother, his sister in law and his aged mother. We first met when he did some excavation work in the garden, and we had all become good friends. We’d get together from time to time for a chat and a drink and he was always round at some point over Christmas, to get a break from his family. On the last occasion, Sarah, drunk and full of Christmas cheer, grabbed him as he was leaving, ground her body against his, pulled his head down and gave him a long snog, tongues and all, under the mistletoe. His hand found its way inside her top, copping a good feel if her tits. As he did so she had undone his zip, slid her hand into his jeans and was rubbing his cock. I started to get excited but they both seemed to realise what they were doing. He withdrew his hand and she broke away, looking flushed. He pulled up his zip and he left, smiling.

Sarah’s birthday had been in the Wednesday and and we had invited him over on the Saturday evening help celebrate. He arrived about seven bringing her a present of a litre bottle of Polish vodka, which she loves. By eight, he and I had each sunk three or four tins of beer each while Sarah had sunk over a third of the vodka. All was very relaxed and mellow, with much laughter and joking. The conversation, as it always did, had started mildly, got rather smutty and ended up becoming loaded with double meanings. Sarah was always very relaxed with Bob and was, as usual, flirting outrageously with him – more so that night because of the drink. He was responding in kind and the banter had got smuttier and very sexual. I could see her getting more and more flushed. It had started in her cheeks and had spread down over her ample cleavage, as it always does when she has had a few drinks – and she had had more than a few.

Bob went to relieve himself of the beer he’d been swilling. Sarah dropped onto my lap and put her arms round my neck, kissed me and whispered “I’m feeling randy, all this dirty talk makes me so horny, it makes me want to fuck”. She was snuggling against me; her nipples were hard and very noticeable. I started to play with one of them and she kissed me harder, her tongue going deep into my mouth. I gave the nipple another hard tweak. I love teasing her when she gets like that, especially when we can’t follow through on it. She gets so frustrated and hornier than ever.

“Well, you’ll have to wait until later”

“How much later? I’m all wet and horny now. I want to be fucked!”

“You’ll have to wait ‘til Bob’s gone”.

She smiled wickedly “What if I can’t wait that long?”

I laughed, “You’ll just have to. We can’t disappear upstairs leaving him to wait ‘til we’ve finished fucking. It’d be rude and not at all fair, unless,” I joked “you are aiming to be a good hostess and fuck him as well?” She was about to reply when Bob came back into the room which put an end to the discussion. He apologised for interrupting, she just laughed, got off my lap and started to leave the room. I said “While you’re up, can bring us a couple more beers please”.

“I’m not going to the kitchen, I’m off to the loo, anyway what do you think I am, a barmaid?”

“No” I said “you aren’t dressed right for a barmaid.”

Bob smirked and said, “With a figure like yours, I can easily imagine you as an old-fashioned tavern wench, all laced up top with your boobs almost falling out of your dress – always ready to ‘serve’ her customers!”.

She flushed and put her head on one side. “So, you want to see me walking round with my tits hanging out, do you?”

He laughed. “Well….as you’re asking, I’d like to see more of them”.

She stuck her tongue out at him. “In your dreams. But, if you can wait ‘til I came down again, I’ll see about your beers, or you can get off your fat arses and get them yourselves!”.

A good while later we heard her come down the stairs and she called to ask if we still wanted the beers. We said yes and heard her head for the kitchen. When she came back into the lounge all we could do was stare in amazement. She wore heavy mascara, scarlet lipstick, her hair was down and she was wearing a skimpy, black, maid’s dress, black stockings, suspenders and scarlet shoes with five-inch heels. That she wore nothing else was fairly obvious as there is very little to it and it’s practically see-through. Her full ripe figure was shown off to great advantage. Her tits were straining against the lacings and her nipples seemed to be trying to burst through the material. She had seen our stunned looks, gave a dirty chuckle and started grinning broadly.

“Sorry I don’t have a tavern wenches’ outfit, this is the nearest I can find,” She held her arms high and wide, a tin in each hand, and turned slowly round. The raised arms caused the dress to hike up, clearly confirming the fact that she wore nothing underneath it. “will it do?”

Neither of us said a word. Bob sat there doing an impression of a goldfish and I probably looked much the same. I was so amazed at the sight of her. It wasn’t just the outfit; she knows I like her to dress in tarty make up and sexy clothing, and this was an outfit she frequently wore to tease/please me. It was the fact that she was wearing it now, in front of Bob and the way she was behaving. Ok, she was somewhat drunk, but it was so totally out of character. I have to say, she looked fantastic, standing there like that, flaunting herself. Only in my wildest fantasies had I ever imagined that she would do anything like that. I felt hard, eager and excited, but I was unsure what this was leading. I knew what I wanted to happen, but I had visions of her suddenly panicking and scooting out of the room having wound both of us wound up. How wrong I was.

She came over to me and, bending from the hips, placed my can on the coffee table. To see what she would do I reached forwards and gave the bow of the lacing on her dresses a tug. With the pressure of her tits behind it, the front burst open and her ample tits spilled half out. I pulled them totally free of any material and gave one of her nipples a tweak. She smiled ran her tongue along her top lip.

“I want to be a really, really, really good hostess”.

I nodded and said “Go on then”. Grinning broadly, she stepped round me and turned to face Bob. Leaning across the table tits swinging, she put his beer down. I now got the view that Bob had just been treated to as she waggled her arse, almost in my face. There was her naked cunt, ripe and glistening wet. So, I stroked a finger down its lips. She sighed and placed her hands onto Bob’s knees for support.

As she stood there, I stroked her then slipped a couple of fingers in to her wetness. At first, she gasped and stiffened, and then she started to sway back and forth so that she was thrusting against my hand, forcing my fingers deeper, her tits swinging back and forth. Bob sat staring; his eyes glued to them.

She looked him straight in the eyes. “Well, do you like my tits? You’re always staring at them, youv’e copped a feel of them more than once and you did say you wanted to see more of them. Well, now they’re all the way out. Are they big enough for you? Do you like my big saggy fun bags?” She jiggled them in his face. He tried to say that that wasn’t what he had meant but she just laughed and said “Liar”. She swung herself away from my questing fingers and looked round at me.