Party Surprise

She looked up, startled as she saw me; her hair messed up, her clothes dishevelled and make-up in need of attention. She had an expression of guilt on her face – I had caught her at a bad moment. Her skirt, which she had pulled up around her waist, exposed a pair of very damp panties that were now half way down her legs. She was unable to hide the fact that her stockings had "runs" and several stains. Overall, she looked like she had been dragged backwards through a hedge. It was apparent to her that there was no sensible explanation for the state she was in that was going to sound convincing. I had caught her about to hide the "evidence" – and she knew it!

"You're home later than what I thought you'd be," I commented as I watched her finish removing her panties. She dropped them behind her as though she hoped they would disappear.

"Sorry," she said very nervously. My wife looked absolutely shit scared and didn't know what to do next.

"So have you had a good time?" There was no sarcasm or threatening tone to my voice. My wife looked like she was waiting for a bomb to explode.

I know what I should have said next – I know what I should have done. Something inside me had changed, something unexpected had happened. I didn't want a confrontation – nor did I want let her know that I had been following her. For some reason unknown to me I didn't want her to confess and break down in tears. Why, I don't know but something inside me had changed – both mentally and physically. I wanted to fuck her!

Almost as a way of reassuring her I walked toward her and put my arms around her, then said. "Next time you go out you'll have to tell me how late you're going to be."

As I said it I slipped my hand beneath her skirt and gently massaged her bare arse cheeks, then I pulled her close so our groins touched. She looked both startled and confused as she felt my hard cock press against her tummy. With my other hand I unfastened her blouse and she began to shake as I uncovered her breasts that still had the marks of her rough treatment.

She was now really frightened – she would have to explain how she had come home in such a state. Squeezing her arse tighter and kissing her neck I provided the excuse for her.

"Look's like you've been a naughty girl and let some man's goodnight kiss get a little out of hand," I whispered. She stayed silent, still shaking.

"Is that what happened?" I asked more urgently.

She knew she would have to give some sort of answer and barely nodding her head she hissed, "Yes!"

My spare hand had meantime unfastened my trousers and I let them drop to ground. Stepping out of them I released the grip I had on my wife just long enough to remove my underwear. She looked more bewildered than ever as I lifted her skirt up and gazed at her well-used and still damp pussy. Seeing the ruined stockings and bare flesh of her legs then her red marked tits hanging over her tight bra gave me a feeling of intense sexual arousal. Pulling her toward me I raised her just enough to ram my cock inside her.

"Look's like he also managed to get his hand up your skirt too!" I said.

She began to sob and sniffle, "I'm sorry!" she whimpered.

I thrust harder and pushed my tongue in her ear, knowing it usually gave her a thrill.

"He's been a bit rough with you, hasn't he?" I whispered in her ear. "Did you have to fight him off?"

I saw her head nod slightly. "Did you enjoy it though?"

Again knowing she would have to give some sort of credible answer she admitted, "Some of it – I was a bit flattered that someone paid attention to me. I'm sorry! It was only a bit of groping and touching – nothing happened – it was just someone I got talking to."

Moving her harder and faster I lifted her by her arse and let her slowly drop down, impaled on my shaft – I could tell it was beginning to have an effect.

"Next time you will have to be a bit more careful, won't you?"

"Yes," she said, now in a much more calm voice. I could tell that her brain was racing trying to figure out if I meant the next time she goes out or the next time she allows a man to give her a goodnight kiss. "I will next time," she added. She wanted me to explain what I meant. As I fucked her standing up I could see she was puzzled by my casual attitude and wondered why I hadn't gone "ape-shit" over it. She was right to wonder, normally I would have "thrown a wobbler" in such a situation. However, I didn't even try to explain – I couldn't – even I didn't understand my attitude. All I knew was that I was incredibly turned on.

Walking my wife backwards and pushing her against the wall I fucked her hard and she began to respond. It was pure raw sex, I pummelled into her as she grabbed and hung on to me lifting her legs off the ground to wrap around my waist. I pulled my head back to enjoy the sight of her wanton whorish look as I saw her skirt round her waist and laddered stockings and tits hanging out of her bra. But it was the images and memory of what I had witnessed her do with the group of men that turned me on most.

My wife didn't know why she had got off so lightly and didn't know what had got me so aroused, but she now kept quiet and was probably thanking her lucky stars. The sex went on a long time and before we finished I turned her round and bent her over the chair – it was hard to believe my wife had recently allowed a gang of other men to do just this. As I fucked her I imagined another man in front of her pushing his cock into her mouth.

I could not believe that it had actually happened.

Over the coming weeks my wife was unusually quiet. I sensed, sometimes that she was still expecting a confrontation – waiting for that bomb to go off. She was never late home from work and never mentioned going out for the evening. I wondered whether maybe her close call had made reform and she thought it was too dangerous to indulge in illicit sex again.

I was still puzzled by my own feelings and I never mentioned the episode to her. But sex between us had become more frequent, more rampant and more spontaneous. Gone were the "I've got a headache" excuses – and she was more adventurous than she had ever been.

True I had pangs of anger and feelings of being betrayed – and feelings of total confusion – but for some reason I didn't want to do anything about it. The strongest feelings were the ones of sexual arousal every time I thought about those events.

Again, for reasons unknown I had stopped spying on my wife during her lunch breaks. Partly it was because I just didn't have the time or opportunity and partly it was because I knew I would eventually be spotted – and I didn't want to be. But imagination is a powerful thing – sometimes, when she dressed for work or I watched her changing when she came home I pictured what she might have been doing!

All this changed when one day she asked me to meet her at lunchtime. We had some business to attend to that required us both to be present. Arriving early I parked the car and waited outside of her offices, standing in the sunshine. When she walked out through the door I was just about to wave and beckon her when two young men approached her. They obviously knew her and started to chat – but I noticed that my wife looked very nervous and edgy.

She glanced around her and couldn't help but spot me so I quickly joined them hoping to catch some of the conversation before they knew of my presence or she warned them her husband was here. I just managed to catch a few words, "Not seen you for a while," "How about going for a stroll?" "Car is round the back if you'd prefer a drive." She looked very scared as she announced in a very loud voice, "This is my husband, you haven't met him before have you?"

The two men, probably in their early twenties turned sharply and forced a nervous smile. We were introduced and I could tell there was something amiss – you could almost smell the fright!

"So – how do you guys' know each other?" I asked forcing myself to sound casual and smiling.

They were all stuck for an answer and had to think hard.

"Oh, we just seem to run into each other a lot, either at the sandwich bar or in the restaurant at lunchtimes," said one of the boys.

"Yeah!" his friend agreed, "Or sat in the park by the fountain. We sometimes stop for a chat."

"Really?" I said, trying to disguise my disbelief. Now with what I knew about parks and my wife at lunchtimes alarm bells went off. As for my wife she looked very uncomfortable and worried. There was a little small talk before the young men went on their way – I almost heard my wife give a sigh of relief.

"You meet them for walks in the park then?" I asked.

"Not meet them, no! They are sometimes just there."

"Why did they mention the car, and going for a drive?" I pressed.

She coloured up and gulped as she explained, "A couple of times I let them drive me up to the reservoir to enjoy the view over the hills and countryside. It's only a few minutes drive and it's nice to get some fresh country air at lunchtime."

It was a reasonable explanation taken at face value but I couldn't help but feel that she was overdoing it. I knew the area; it was a popular spot for walks and picnics with winding paths and secluded viewpoints. I didn't think the men I had just met were the sort to be that keen on country walks and scenery. And like I've said, I had experience of what my wife does in parks. A quick glance told me that she was wishing that she hadn't been so truthful – as though it should have been kept secret.

I wanted to ask if they all sit in the car or whether they go walking down one of the paths, but I didn't. Imagination started to work, I felt my cock begin to rise.

We completed our business and returned to work. That night I felt especially turned on and fucked my wife several times throughout the evening. She didn't ask what had aroused me and was as keen and responsive as I. But for the next couple of days I felt very uneasy. I had an urge to be there when she met the young men. I made a point when I could of being near her office at lunchtime, however, it was all in vain, nothing happened. Though I did see the two young men hovering round – they too it seemed were keeping an eye out for my wife.

I figured that she wouldn't have risked seeing them too soon after them meeting me so I would provide her with a safe day. I told her one evening that I had to go way out of town to see a client and it would take all day and most of the evening. As far as she was concerned there was no chance of me turning up unexpected. She now had two chances to misbehave – lunchtime – or early evening.

The next day I managed to park the car near to her office but well enough out of the way so as not to be seen. Positioning myself at a good vantagepoint I patiently waited – it wasn't long before the two boys walked down the street and waited by my wife's office.

A few minutes later she strolled out of the building – and walked straight up to the young men. It was a spring day but chilly and my wife wore a long coat over a button down summer dress. In this part of the world you never know how the day is going to turn out weather wise so you have to dress accordingly. It was nice enough for a walk and they wandered down the street – I followed. I was taken by surprise; suddenly they got into a car and drove off. Cursing them I ran back to my vehicle and tried to catch them up – without success.

As I drove around I decided they may have gone to the reservoir – it was a bit obvious but worth a try. For all I knew they could have gone to someone's flat or house, I could have been on a wild goose chase.

As I arrived in the area I realised just how big it was and how many roads and paths left the main thoroughfare – it was a maze. I decided the best place to go was the highest point, so I could look down on most of the roads and picnic areas. Fortunately I'd had the sense to bring my binoculars so I reckoned if they were there I would eventually spot them.

Fifteen minutes I scanned the sights – and saw nothing. Maybe I had made a mistake and they weren't even here. Then I spotted them, all walking back to the car. Whatever they had been up to I had probably missed it. I watched them through the glasses, they reached the car and one man unlocked the door. The other pulled my wife to him and started to grope her and kiss her. The other one then came up behind them and put his hands under my wife's dress. For several minutes they touched her up and kissed her, pulled up her dress and put their hands between her legs, played with her tits. Until they were interrupted by a couple walking their dog. Then they were gone – I had missed the main show, I was too late.

Sitting in the car I asked myself why I felt disappointed – if I wanted evidence I had got it. Why did I want to see more? Why was my wife letting every man she happened to meet fuck her? Why was it always more than one? Was she a hooker or a nymphomaniac? Why was my cock hard?

I spent the afternoon sitting in a café drinking coffee and thinking. When it was time for my wife to finish work I decided to go and meet her and tell her I had got back early. I was shocked to see the two men waiting outside the office – she was meeting them again.

This time I was ready, when she came out and climbed into the car I followed them at a safe distance. They drove back to the reservoir, which surprised me somewhat. Now it was deserted as the cool spring evening was closing in, only a few people where still about. They parked in a little clearing near a bench and my wife got out to admire the view. Putting the car out of sight I took my binoculars and crept through the undergrowth. I managed to get so near to them that the glasses weren't really necessary. My wife sat on the bench and I decided that if I climbed up the banking I would have a good sideways view of the seat and the car.

The two men got out of the vehicle and joined my wife on the seat, one each side of her. Nothing happened for a while, I was beginning to think they had just come to take in the evening air, they just chatted. Then I saw my wife unfasten her coat and pull it aside – her dress was already unbuttoned – all the way down. Her underwear was on show for the men, I could see it even from where I was sitting, bra, bare flesh, panties, and stockings. I knew the outfit was one of her most see-through ones.

The men wasted no time, one put his hand inside her panties while the other lifted her tits from her bra and sucked on them. She cradled their heads as she lay back enjoying the treatment. I was able, with the help of the glasses to see most of the action. For a while she let them feel her up and I saw her squirm and wriggle against the man's fingers – she held the others head as he licked, sucked and, I suspected sometimes bit, on her nipples.

Once again I expressed disbelief that this was the same woman I had married. I sat down in the undergrowth, watching. My hand had gone to my zip and found myself pulling out my stiff cock and slowly stroking the foreskin up and down. Had my wife developed a penchant for sex in unusual situations – was she a nymphomaniac wanting lots of different lovers? Had she always been like this? But why didn't I want to stop it? Why did I feel intense jealousy and betrayal yet so much excitement and arousal I let it carry on?

Now as I watched one of them began to remove her panties, sliding them down her thighs. I could tell trousers were being unfastened and looked through the glasses to confirm it. Her hands became busy as she pulled on their cocks – then her head went down to suck one. My own hand worked faster as I watched.

Suddenly they all jumped and looked startled – something had scared them. Quickly they all sat upright and as my wife closed her coat around her the men put away their weapons. They had been disturbed by the sound of a man approaching – I watched as they sat pretending to admire the view, the man glancing with a suspicious look at the woman between two men. As the man shouted his dog and moved off I wondered whether he would be curious enough to hide somewhere, in the hope he would see the woman have sex with the men. Somehow that thought made me feel even more aroused – another stranger watching my wife letting two men have their way with her. Bizarrely I wished I were able to watch the man, watch my wife being fucked.

If he had hidden he would have been lucky. It was only a couple of minutes later when my wife let her coat slip open to expose her almost naked body. Her pants had gone which made it even more erotic to see her body be uncovered. Here she was in the countryside with two men, apparently fully dressed with a long coat then suddenly exhibiting her-self for their pleasure.

They wasted no time – I watched amazed as they both simultaneously unfastened their trousers and took out their cocks. As one sat upright on the bench, dick in hand, my wife moved over his knee and lifted the coat – her bare arse was over his cock and they shuffled about until she was impaled on him. I felt my heart race as the other now stood in front of her, his penis in line with her mouth. She was letting them both have her at the same time! It was almost too much to bear as I watched her open her mouth and then her hand reach out to close around his dick. I sat mesmerised in the undergrowth watching her arse buck up and down and her head bob back and forth as she sucked and gobbled the man.

I fantasised about where that cock she was sat on had entered her body. Though I well knew it in her vagina I wondered whether she would have objected to it being in her anus. From what I was learning about my wife anything was possible. My excitement grew and though still horrified at my wife's behaviour I allowed myself to be consumed with the amazing voyeuristic pleasure of secretly watching. When I finally succumbed to ejaculation it was especially intense.

As the evening light faded and people had long since left, my wife and the young men whom where by now almost in silhouette reached the pinnacle of their debauched outdoor display –it was time for me to leave.

I drove around for a while trying to reconcile my reaction to what I had discovered but to no avail. Thinking about it only made pictures come into my head – and caused my cock to grow hard. Although I had told my wife I would be away for most of the evening I decided to go home now. I figured she would be home and eating a meal which would give me chance to keep out of her way until I had composed myself and could act "normal."

I was shocked and surprised to discover she still wasn't home, as I drove up to the house it was in darkness. Feeling even more betrayed than ever I turned the heating up and had a quick shower. Dried and changed, I walked into the living room to find she still hadn't appeared. Then I heard the rear door open as she almost sneaked in.

She was bedraggled and untidy – and when she saw me she also looked scared. Where had she been since I left her – or more to the point what had she been doing – and with whom?

"You look a bit worse for wear," I said quietly. She didn't know how to reply then finally she responded.

"I've just had a hard day – I'll go and have a shower."

As she tried to make a quick exit I stepped forward and pulled her back. She protested and turned away from me but taking hold of her coat and pulling it from her shoulders to trap her arms by her side she fell silent. Her dress was buttoned badly, some wrong buttonholes had been used, other buttons left undone. What appeared to be grass stains marked the material. She looked down at herself – and began to cry – like a naughty girl who had just been caught in the act. She knew this would be impossible to explain. I snapped open the top buttons of her dress and she looked again at the damning evidence of red marks and rough treatment. As I suddenly tore open the rest of her dress she yelled and sobbed even more loudly. She tried to stop me from seeing the most incriminating piece of evidence - her panties had not been replaced.