Letters to the Editor Ch. 02

I apologise to all the people who were promised follow-ups to my previous stories. I have lost the data twice and have decided that Fate, helped by my stupidity decrees otherwise -I have started again. Apologies also to anyone who expected a reply to e-mails, please note I have now a new address. Regards, Quin.

*****

The editor picked out another letter from the sheaths of papers in the file. This one featured a different scenario concerning the theme of horny wives. Settling down in his chair he began to read.

Dear Sir,

You asked the question in your magazine on how much unusual sexual activity goes on out there and how much is imagined. Here is my story though some won’t believe it.

When I was eighteen I helped out at the local parish hall. We live in a very small country town where everyone knows each others business. Or so they think! The number of volunteers varies depending on the importance of the event, though there is a hard core of eight men. Actually it is three men and five boys – the boys being aged from eighteen to early twenties – the men in their late forties and fifties.

After a few months I noticed how tight knit this group was – almost secretive. As I was the only one that worked with them on a regular basis I started to take exception to the way I was dismissed at certain times when I knew there was lots to do. It usually consisted of, “We can manage now thanks! You may as well go home or do whatever you do.”

Something else I noticed was that the wife of one of the community leaders seemed to appear at unusual times and stayed to help with things that she really wasn’t connected with. Many times it coincided with the days or evenings I was sent away. As she was a real good looker it made it even more annoying, though I thought she was too high class for anyone there. She was about mid thirties, tall and slim but big busted with long dark hair - and amazing legs too. What I found strange was that when her husband was present that she didn’t seem half as friendly with the others.

More than once I felt impatience on her and the group’s part while they waited for her husband, and then me, to leave. Why her husband never noticed I couldn’t imagine – maybe he did. As he spent so much time away mostly she wasn’t noticed. It was very odd that a woman like her would want to spend so much time with a group like that. When I talked about it to the others I was told in no uncertain terms that I asked too many questions and should “button-it.” To cover their overreaction one of the older men told me to keep quiet because she didn’t like people knowing how much time she spent helping in the evenings. It was put to me that I was privileged to be a part of the regular group. Not being stupid I knew that it would draw more attention if they purposely “banned” me.

One night I went for a drink to the house of one of the other boys. I made a point to take advantage of the drunken state he had got himself in and questioned him about the group. He eventually let so many things slip about covering certain things up that he had to tell me the story. I had put it to him that I would broadcast it round the town that they were hiding something. He became really scared but being under the influence he said that if I gave him my oath that I would never tell – he would divulge the secret.

He said that when everyone else has gone and they know that they shouldn’t get interrupted the councillor’s wife gets undressed for them. She puts on a little show and parades about in her sexy underwear while they all work. Guess what? I laughed. “What a load of fucking bullshit!” I jeered at him. “Come on – you can do better than that!”

“It’s true!” he pleaded. “They will fucking kill me if they knew I had told you.”

“And why on earth should she want to do that?” I laughed mockingly.

“Well, because it all started when the older men caught her one night with two of the boys. She was in a back room – they watched through a small window for a while. She let them play with her tits and then when she was jerking them off the men burst in.”

“So you’re saying its blackmail?” I asked.

“Not exactly – it started off like that. They told the boys to wait outside then after a while they came out and told the boys how much trouble they were in – unless they could come to some arrangement and be trusted to keep their mouth shut. Apparently when the boys had left, Mary, Councillor Thomas’s wife, was begging the men not to tell. They told her that they wanted what the boys had just had. She agreed to let them have their way and they both played with her tits while they took turns to be wanked off. Then they told her that she would be expected to do much more in return for them keeping quiet. The men had to keep the boys from talking so they were let in on the arrangement. Mary was told she would have to be nice to them all.

The snag was that other boys knew – that’s how I come into the picture. When the men found out they had no choice but to include them. That’s basically how the group came into being. What was not expected was that she enjoyed it. She is what is known as a submissive. There are certain things that she likes and that’s her chance to indulge and let them happen. She likes to show off her body and watch young boys masturbate over her. The men do other things with her too.

So, it’s not blackmail anymore – she likes to do it. The first night that we all met one of the men told her to take off her skirt and top so that we could admire her body as we worked. That became a regular thing. She walks around in bra and panties until we are all turned on and then we take her in the back room.”

I laughed and said, “You tell a good story for a man who’s drunk.”

“Your mouth will get you in trouble – and me too. Keep quiet if you know what’s good for you. It goes beyond what I have told you. Just keep quiet – that’s all I’m saying.”

I was intrigued by his last comment about “goes beyond” then I asked myself the question your magazine asked. Is there really lots of kinky illicit sex out there in the so-called nice neighbourhoods – or do people just fantasise?”

I didn’t see the guy I spoke to for a day or so. When I did he wouldn’t talk to me. What I did notice was his black eye and bruises. Someone had given him a real beating. I was scared myself now. I was eighteen and getting out of my depth. I debated whether or not I should turn up the next time a function was on and volunteers were required. I decided I would have to face the music eventually. If the guy had got a beating because of what he had told me then I figured they would want to make sure I wasn’t a threat - either by coercion or by a similar beating to scare the shit out of me.

Two weeks passed before an event arose that required the use of volunteers. The regular parish hall people were putting on a play so quite a bit or work was required in the stage area, with scenery and things. I reluctantly turned up and as the evening wore on people left and I found myself with just the group. A couple of others had been “encouraged” to go home so now I was about to disappear of my own accord. The councillor’s wife Mary had just arrived with some material for the scenery.

“You can stay tonight,” I was told abruptly. I told them I had better go when the boy with the bruises snapped at me, “Stay!” It was though he was saying that as he had to suffer a beating because of me I wasn’t going to be given a choice. I nodded and found a job to keep me busy at the same time watching my back.

After an hour had passed I noticed the men whispering to the woman. Now I felt quite excited. For the first time a little fact had suddenly dawned on me. It was that if the boy had got a beating – then the rest of his story could be true – which meant, unbelievably, that this classy woman would be taking her clothes off. Never happen surely? Had they, hopefully, forgotten that I was there?

I was lost in my own thoughts when suddenly I was aware that Mary was just a few feet from me. As she turned to walk away she glanced over and smiled. The front of her jacket was opened to reveal a white half-cup bra. As though nothing was amiss she walked back to the stage that was at the other end of the room from me. Had it come opened accidentally? I watched and waited for her to fasten it back up – there was no way it could have gone unnoticed for so long – she didn’t touch it.

Trying not to be so obvious I carried on with my task, occasionally looking across the room. She climbed a step ladder, just a few rungs. One of the men walked over to steady it for her. Then his hand went up her skirt to stroke her thigh – it stayed up. Others had noticed and stopped to watch. She was allowing the man to put his hand between her legs. She didn’t flinch or attempt to move. When she finally came down from the steps the man kissed her roughly then she, not he, pulled off her jacket. She was now in skirt and bra. A boy standing near to her came behind her and as he kissed her neck his arm came round to her front to feel her tits. Passively she stood and let him grope her.

The woman was eventually allowed to carry on and everybody got on with their jobs. However, when I looked across a little later she had lost her skirt. I stood with hard cock watching this high class woman parade about in front of all these men and boys in just her little white panties and bra. A voice behind me spoke.

“You wanted to be part of this so now you are. But any more shooting your mouth off and you’re dead!”

For a long time I just watched her. I had an urge to get my cock out and wank but as no one else was I didn’t. Then I was called over to a little group – the woman joined us. She began to chat and asked me if I liked how she was dressed. I nodded stupidly. She said that she hoped I could be discrete and that she liked to have some fun with the men. If I talked I would be spoiling it for myself. Then she said she was going into the back room with two of the boys and would I like to join them.

As I nodded again she took my hand and guided me into the back. My heart was racing now as I knew something sexy was going to happen. She told me to stand near her and whispered to me that I could feel her breasts. I shook with nerves as I moved my hand to her tits and squeezed and rubbed the outside of her bra. She said, “What else have you been told happens here?” I told her, “Nothing really – I was just told you like to walk about in your “undies” and turn everyone on. She gently pulled me toward a chair and sitting down on it she pulled me in front of her. I was shaking and stunned as she unzipped my pants and unfastened my belt. She took out my cock and kissed the end.

“Are you going to be a good boy and keep quiet?” she asked. I answered in the affirmative. “Then here’s a little reward and encouragement for you.” She took me in her mouth and gave me an amazing blow job – when I lost control she put her hand on my arse and kept me in until she had swallowed every last drop. Though I was depleted and well satisfied I stayed and watched. It had kicked off an amazing gang bang with two lads getting alternately sucked then one lifting her up and sitting her on his cock facing away from him. While he fucked her someone else stuck a dick in her mouth and masturbated. She loved every minute of it, becoming more and more insatiable and frantic.

The finale was even more amazing. The two older men entered and undressed. Without speaking she stopped what she was doing and bent over a chair with her arse in the air.

“She’s ready now, sufficiently turned on,” someone said, then, looking at me they said, “This is what she likes.” From somewhere a small riding crop appeared and there was a loud thwack as it landed on her now bare buttocks. Three more stinging strokes made their mark and her arse was now red and twitching. As the crop landed she gave a yell of pain but made no attempt to move away.

The man with the crop suddenly pointed at a boy and said, “You can take a turn tonight.” The boy quickly took of what remaining clothes he had on and knelt on his knees. The woman was pulled up from the chair and with little guidance she stood in front of the boy and opened her legs wide. Holding his head she pulled his face into her crotch and he began to lick and kiss her cunt. Her hips started to move as she gently grinded her genitals fucking the boys face. Then it started again, one blow followed the other as her arse was lashed. It seemed to me that the cries of pain had become cries of ecstasy. She finally worked herself up to one hell of an orgasm almost suffocating the boy with her crotch.

Over the next eight or nine months when her husband was at a safe distance and we where assembled in the hall in she would come and an orgy or something near to one would follow. I saw many things happen, the most surprising event being when quite by chance I caught one of the men and the vicar escorting her and another man to the back door of his house. Not being able to resist spying I spent an hour watching her being abused in all sorts of ways by the two men while the vicar watched. He became very excited when after using the crop they took turns to fuck her anally. Her “punishment” for being a naughty girl was for the vicar to urinate in her mouth while she knelt before him. I guess that’s what my drinking pal had meant when he said it went beyond what he was able to tell me.

It turned out that I wasn’t as clever as I thought I was - I wasn’t the only one to notice what was happening. Many others were either in on it or chose not to get involved. Rumour had it that her husband knew of his wife’s little weaknesses. When September came I left that small town and haven’t been back since.

The editor, being young himself, had imagined himself in the role of the writer and was now starting to feel a little turned on. “I think I know another reason why they kept these letters,” he told himself. Slowly he unzipped his pants and picked up another sheet of paper.

Dear Sir,

Let me warn your readers how indulging in a sexual adventures can quickly get out of hand.

After experiencing some financial problems my wife and I found ourselves almost destitute and on the point of losing our home. Though we and our 18yr old daughter “tightened our belts” somewhat we still were desperate to raise much needed cash. I had a new job though it didn’t pay enough.

About a year before this some friends of ours, a couple in their early forties had, what they described as, “discovered sexual freedom” What they really meant was that they had become involved with people who swapped partners and indulged in group sex, etc. They were constantly trying to persuade my wife and me to join with them in these adventures. One thing the husband, Jack, had become almost obsessed with was watching his wife with other men. Though we never joined in their games he delighted in telling me almost every detail. He watched his wife being touched up, partially undressing, and generally showing off her body to other men. He hinted that she had, on a few occasions, gone much further.

He had also made it very clear to me that he would like to watch me with his wife, and that she would be more than willing to have a threesome. To say that sex had taken over their lives would not be an exaggeration as she was as fixated as he was.

When he learnt of our plight he promised to try to help in some way. One evening he told us that to supplement our earnings from our regular jobs he knew of a chance of some occasional work that didn’t demand lots of time and paid quite a bit – “for the right person”. We let him explain – the job turned out to be that my wife would pose for a group of his friends - men that liked the slightly more mature “housewifely” model. They were quite prepared to pay good money for discrete, non-professional women and girls. My wife, now thirty-nine was the ideal candidate he told us. He went on to explain that she would probably start off with up-skirt shots then go on to pose in various stages of undress. She would need to have various sexy, flimsy items of underwear. He emphasized the point that it wasn’t fashion photography or tame poses. They were amateurs that wanted sexy photos. There would be no fancy assistants working out the perfect lighting or makeup artists in attendance. For lots of reasons they preferred classy-looking “lady-next-door” types. He certainly gave us the hard sell – but we said no thanks.

Inevitably we talked about it and I was surprised that my wife gave it quite a bit of consideration. Then, when things got ever more desperate the subject came up again. I told her that the money offered wouldn’t be enough to make much difference but she pointed out that at least it would be money that our creditors – or the taxman – wouldn’t know we had. She reasoned that as she sunbathed topless when on holiday on the beach or by a hotel pool it wouldn’t be a big deal. And, she added, younger girls showed off all the time nowadays – times had changed.

She persuaded me to let her give it a go. I thought she seemed a little too keen but we were desperate for every penny we could get so I agreed – on condition that I accompanied her. Now that’s the first thing that didn’t work out as planned!

Our friend made the arrangements and the evening came round for the session to take place. Discretion was the key word, everyone could be trusted, and payment would be cash in hand. No problems except for one thing – I was called into work and couldn’t go with her. That was the nature of the job and I couldn’t afford to argue. I hoped she would want to cancel but she reminded me of how much we needed every penny – I had no choice – off she went.

The thing was, that I had watched her get ready and saw how she had picked out her sexy see-through black lacy panties and bra and I had become very horny as I watched her pull up silky stay-up stockings. The way she finished off her outfit with tight skirt and even tighter top made me feel that she was really getting into it and was without doubt going to enjoy posing for this group of strangers. I felt very jealous and anxious when I had to leave for work just minutes before she left.

The following morning she was quite happy to tell me just how they had asked her to pose and even admitted that she had been quite daring when she had willingly, in just her panties had spread her legs and posed as though she was touching herself. She told me how the men, about a dozen of them became more turned on as they started with her flashing lots of thigh and then slowly and teasingly expose her underwear. She didn’t mind admitting that she noticed how their trousers had bulges by the time she was ready to drop her skirt. When I asked if she had been completely naked or if they touched her she denied both and clammed up saying that she had told me everything.

Three more times she went but only once was I able to go with her. It seemed a much tamer and less daring session than the ones she had described, due, she said to my being present – I was putting the men off requesting certain poses. The men themselves appeared friendly and not at all perverts or sex- fiends. I felt weird and uncomfortable sitting in a corner of the room watching my wife strip off and pose for these strangers but they did their best to make me feel OK. My wife made no secret of the fact she enjoyed the work. The money was far more than I had expected but I reasoned that they were wealthy men and could well afford it – their photographic equipment must have cost a small fortune.

I was a bit envious and jealous of them – and worried that my wife liked it too much. I couldn’t deny that it did strange things to me as I watched or thought of her posing when I wasn’t there. One day I asked her, “Surely they don’t pay for you to pose in the same positions every time – what else do they ask you to do?”