My Little Tramp

I have to keep tabs on the little tramp – you can see that can't you? – I have to keep my eye on her.

She's less than half his age. He'll never keep up with her. Look at them; I give it six months! I'd been thrown all these comments and more when I first married Libby. The rumour mills had been working overtime in attempting to assess the attraction between us. Personally, I thought it obvious. There was no secret as far as I was concerned: Libby wanted my money and I wanted Libby!

But they were right about one thing at least; keeping up with my wife sexually was not easy. In bed (or in the kitchen/lounge/bathroom etc) Libby was untamed; a feral being that seemed to know no restraints. I did the best I could but it wasn't long before I suspected that she was straying from the path of the righteous, devoted wife.

And so I watched her. Covertly tracking her movements. It became almost an obsession with me.

Despite the lack of need to work, Libby had insisted on retaining her job at the local factory. This irked me and the little tramp knew it. For one thing it was not favourable for a man in my position to be seen with a trophy wife who had such a menial job and for another, it meant that she was constantly surrounded by the sniffing young bucks that populated the factory floor.

The summertime was worse. Libby would dress in the most revealing clothes that she could find; short skirts that flared around her slim hips and showed off her legs, low-cut tops that promised sneaking glimpses of her tanned breasts and open sandals that exposed her pretty ankles and feet with brightly painted toes.

And then, of course there was the factory summer outing. A barbeque. I had been dreading the day for weeks. To her credit, Libby had asked me if I would like to attend. But she knew that I wouldn't and her invitation was half-hearted and unconvincing. No, I had plans for that day!

Saturday arrived and I watched Libby dress after a light breakfast. She had selected an expensive, elegant looking white silk blouse and a short black skirt. The weather was warm and so she slipped black high-heeled sandals over her bare feet without the stockings that she usually wore. Her underwear was in matching white lace and after slipping on a short designer jacket; the whole ensemble was finished off with a wide brimmed hat and dark sunglasses.

"How do I look?" she asked, smiling sweetly. It had become noticeable in my paranoia that the more suspicious I became of my wife, the more pleasant she was to me. The bitch!

I grunted through a bite of cold toast and tried to make out that I had hardly noticed her attire.

"Fine." I said sarcastically. "Hope you have a good time."

"I will!"

There was an air of wickedness in her voice as she threw that last comment over her shoulder on her way to the door. Or maybe it was just my paranoia again. I heard the door close behind her with a certain finality.

I listened as the last sounds from her VW disappeared as she drove down the street. Suddenly the room seemed empty and quiet – almost desolate. I looked around the kitchen, my eyes finally coming to rest on the keys to my Lexus. I'd stopped chewing and, as I looked at them, my jaw refused to move. Suddenly the plan didn't seem like such a good idea. Did I really want my wife's infidelity confirmed once and for all? What would I do afterwards? Separation? Divorce? The words seemed to stick in my throat and choke me. But I had to know. I did. There would be no peace in my mind until I found out what the little bitch was up to!

I didn't need to follow Libby. I knew where the barbeque was to be held and so was able to let her leave a full hour before I did. The cool air of the vehicle's air conditioning unit calmed my frayed nerves as I drove through the light morning traffic. The leather bound case housing the binoculars that I had bought the previous day rested beside me on the passenger seat and my fingers patted it comfortingly, thinking how they would provide me with a perfect view of my little tramp. It had got to the stage now where I almost WANTED to find her in the arms of another man! The shrill tones of my cell phone suddenly broke my reverie.

"Yes?" I answered almost savagely, strangely annoyed at the interruption.

It was my law-firm office enquiring on a trivial matter to do with one of the cases I was working on. I gave the necessary answers a little too curtly and put the phone down again, almost instantly regretting my rudeness. I would have to remember to apologise to Angela, my secretary, on Monday. I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to call her back now.

As I reached the barbeque area, I parked well out of sight and got comfortable. Pulling the binoculars out of the case I studied them for a brief moment admiring the precision work that had gone into making them. I grimaced as my first observation through the powerful lenses was a blurred, vague impression. I rolled the calibration wheel slowly and smiled to myself as the whole vista before me came into sharp, pointed focus. I could see the entire barbeque area now and panned the glasses slowly in search of Libby. There were not many people there – which I found a little strange – and I thought that I would have no trouble in locating my little tramp. But Libby was obvious by her absence and, after a few more minutes fruitless searching, I decided to drive around to the other side of the picnic area.

Stopping the car again, I now had a different view of the whole area, this time including the almost deserted parking lot. There seemed to be a crowd of people gathered around a mini-van – the only vehicle I could see - and I trained my glasses in that direction.

What I saw then made the breath catch in my throat and a sheen of sweat break out on my forehead. Libby – the bitch – was seated just inside the van with the side door wide open. Beside her and in a state of some excitement, was not just one man – but two!

Libby was already in a state of semi-undress. Her blouse was undone and her bra discarded exposing two mounds of tanned, womanly flesh that the first man was squeezing and groping lustily. Her short skirt was rucked up; her expensive lace panties, torn and unneeded, lay crumpled on the grass. Libby's hands rested on the second mans' head as she pulled him urgently in between her spread thighs.

I was too far away to hear sounds but from the way that Libby's mouth hung open and her lips moved in silent words of encouragement, it was clear that the two men had already brought my wife very close to climax.

I watched her body contract and contort beneath her two lovers as the orgasm washed over her body. He high-heels had been kicked off and I could see the toes of her bare feet curl as she climaxed hard. Her whole body seemed to shake and tremble and it was obvious that the two men were having a little difficulty keeping her still.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

I closed my eyes as I heard the voice close to my ear. The voyeur exposed as a pervert by the cops. I'd been busted.

"Well?" The voice repeated.

I looked up and squinted into the sun expecting to see the familiar uniform of the local constabulary.

"Hold on." I started. "You're not a cop!"

"Of course I'm not a cop! Gary Langton. I work with Libby. Pleased to meet you!"

I looked at the proffered hand as if it were a live fish. My brain was still in a whirl.

"Gary Langton?" The voice said again, indicating once more his outstretched fish. I shook the fish carefully.

"She's great, isn't she?" Langton continued putting the fish back in his pocket. "Every year it's the same. Never fails to entertain the troops! Wonderful for company morale!"

Through my befuddlement, I suddenly realised that Langton was talking about my wife. He was so relaxed about it, it was as if she had just bought the staff a large bottle of scotch rather than let them grope her semi-naked body. But before I had chance to reply, the younger man was opening the car door and helping me out.

"I've not seen you before, have I? I guess you must be a new hand at the factory. Come on, you'll get a much better view from over there with us. It's my turn next and let me tell you, I got a hard-on with Libby's name on it!"

Suddenly it dawned on me that Langton thought I was one of the work force. He hadn't recognised me as The Tramp's husband.

I followed the younger man towards the open mini-van and took up a position just to the side and out of my wife's view. I didn't really know what I was doing, but I did know that Libby shouldn't see me. Not that the little bitch would have been very interested in me right at that point. She had other, more pressing matters to attend to!

Libby was now seated in the doorway of the van; her legs were open exposing a pussy wet with saliva and sex juice. A tall, naked man was standing next to her with his erection touching her red painted lips. I watched as she opened wide and allowed the young man to push the entire length of his tool into her mouth and started sucking him off.

I was transfixed by this wanton display of lust. I had been shocked by the fact that TWO men had been with her earlier, but now a whole line of several lusty young guys formed a queue patiently awaiting their turn with The Tramp.

Perversely, although Libby's breasts and pussy were exposed for all to see (and touch), her eyes were still shielded by the Cartier sunglasses. I looked back just in time to see the guy that she was sucking blow his load into her mouth. Libby groaned deeply as she tried to swallow his sticky issue but, inevitably there was too much and the thick liquid began to ooze from the corners of her mouth and drip down onto her hard, swollen nipples.

As the first man moved away, now sated, the next man in line took his place. It was Langton and he smiled over at me as he forced his cock in between Libby's cum-stained lips. One of his hands pulled on the back of her head while the other grasped her breast, pulling and pinching the nipple almost viciously as he pumped himself into her mouth.

Langton was clearly over-excited and only lasted a few moments. To cheers and hoots from his friends, Libby's young co-worker groaned loudly and emptied the contents of his balls. He was moved on quickly by the next man who immediately took his place.

The third guy was a small black man that I was sure I had seen before (although I'm certain it would have been with his clothes on!). His cock was thick and long and I heard a small squeal of delight from Libby as she greedily sucked it into her willing mouth. She was beginning to look a little abused now. Cum was dripping from her lips and had pooled, drying in the sun, between her sweat-sheened breasts. But this didn't stop her eagerly blowing the big black cock that was currently thrusting in and out of her mouth. Her hands cupped his balls and her lips formed a tight seal around the wide head. It was no surprise that the man shot his load in less than five minutes.

Things then started to move a little more quickly. Libby was bodily lifted and pulled, wet and dripping from the mini-van. An older, slightly overweight man, that I recognised as the factory foreman – Libby's boss – sat inside and held a short, squat looking penis in his grubby hand. Libby was encouraged to bend over and take her boss into her mouth while standing. Yet another man then moved behind her and, unceremoniously, pulled her short skirt up to expose her juicy pussy from behind. She was still wet from the earlier licking that she had received and the young mans' cock slid in easily up to the hilt.

I could hear my wife moaning like a cheap whore as she was penetrated at both ends. Her legs were shaking as the young man slammed his tool into her from behind and I guessed that she was in the throes of another crashing orgasm.

The two men came almost together and Libby received another faceful of thick, sticky jism at one end whilst the guy in her pussy quickly pulled out and shot his seed over the small of her back.

The Tramp was now clearly exhausted but there were still three more men that had not yet sampled her ample charms. For the first time since watching this obscenely wonderful spectacle, I heard her speak.

"More." She gurgled through sperm-stained lips. "I want more cum! Shoot it all over me!"

Lying back in the mini-van, my slut-wife tore open the front of her blouse, ripping the buttons and sending them spinning off onto the grass. With her breasts fully exposed, the last three men stood to her sides and started masturbating furiously. In turn she took each cock in her mouth, licking and sucking the head and then rolling it over her impossibly hard nipples. The air was thick with the sounds and aromas of raw sex and it was only a short time before the men started to present Libby with her much needed gift.

The cum flew everywhere; spurting from the ends of throbbing, twitching cocks and splashing the hot flesh of my wife's tits and face. The valley of her cleavage was a pool of semen and the thick sex fluid obliterated her designer sunglasses. Her red painted lips mouthed more words of support as she and the men wrung every last drop out of their balls.

I looked around me at the surrounding area of grass. Men, young and older, lay around relaxing and recovering in varying stages of undress. Limp cocks lay against flat, work-hardened stomachs and perspiration stained the brows of most of Libby's conquests. Despite myself I could feel the strain of a solid erection beneath my own pants as, unobserved, I sneaked off back to the Lexus.

It was nearly five-thirty when I heard Libby return. All afternoon, the images that I had witnessed would not leave me. My erection had ached and, on several occasions, I had to resist the almost overwhelming urge to masturbate.

"Did you have a good time?" I said casually, glancing up from my newspaper as she entered the lounge.

She looked very different to the last time I saw her. Gone were all traces of semen. Her hair was freshly washed (in who's bathroom, I wondered) and her chic clothes were expertly arranged. Who would have guessed that, earlier, she had been behaving like such a cheap whore.

"Very nice, thank you!" She replied with a grin.

I thought I'd push the point. I wanted to catch her out.

"I've been feeling horny all day!" I said. "But you look a bit tired for sex now."

Libby always wanted sex. She never said no. Let's see her wriggle out of this one, I thought!

"Oh, I'm not tired!" She chuckled. "I'm just ready for a good fucking! Would you like to fuck me in the ass, baby? For some reason I got a bit of a sore pussy today."

As my little tramp bent over the sofa and pulled down her panties, baring her sweet rounded buttocks, I forgot all about the fact she wasn't wearing the bra that she had earlier. I decided not to ask about the different colour lipstick and the fact that her pussy was still wet and juicy I pushed to the back of my mind. As my cock speared her tiny, star shaped anus, I smiled as I realised that The Tramp was mine now – All mine!