The Pack Ch. 03

They were ultra polite, the men -- 'The Pack'- whenever we ran into them. Behind the smiles, the false gestures, I saw something my husband could not possible see, the evilness, the gloating. I wondered if they planned at some future point to blackmail me over my dalliance with George, who remained most civil, almost regretful that we had been discovered.

In the local pub even the landlord's wife had noticed an uneasy atmosphere.

"Have you and the boys got on the wrong side of each other?" she asked me in hushed tones when I stood at the bar one evening. "I know your husband had a problem with the work but that's history now sweetheart. We don't go in for long feuds around here. Hey, but if some of them have let their hands wander a few times or come on to you then that's their way of having a bit of harmless amusement. You don't want to let that worry you -- in fact, it can be fun sometimes, if you know what I mean; a quick touch up and kiss round the back of the building, you know? We have to make our own entertainment around here."

I had laughed in the right places assuring her all was well though I got the impression she knew more than was healthy. My husband was more relaxed now the antagonism he felt toward the men had been resolved but wondered, like the landlady, why the problem was still with me.

"Try passing the time of day with them," my husband had suggested, "Break down barriers, we all have to live around here."

He could never have guessed what words were exchanged or passed as conversation on the times he sat in the bar watching me walk toward the narrow corridor of the pub on my way to the ladies room. He would have seen the smiling faces of members of 'The Pack' presuming we were exchanging pleasantries, maybe commenting on the weather.

"You getting that itch between your legs again yet ma'am -- yearning for the chance to have a big cock satisfy your needs?"

I almost was becoming immune to the insults and lewd suggestions, which of course were designed to make me feel bad, flustered and upset; and frighten me.

To all intents and purposes I would be stood chatting to two or three men, passing the time of day.

"Why can't any of you just find a woman of your own and settle down like normal men do?"

They laughed when I said that.

"You talks to us about normal missus, you a decent married lady who from time to time likes to attract other men? Have you forgotten missus, how you used to flirt and exhibit yourself for us when we worked over at your place? When you lifts up your glass miss, drinking that shit beer they call lager, does that yellow liquid trickling down your throat not remind you of anything you did in the woods -- with some of us here you call abnormal? Ought we remind you missus of when we watched you pushing back your arse against George's finger while his big cock was up your cunt? How you loved it missus! Tell us again what you city folk think is normal then?"

"Just leave us alone will you?"

"We ain't doing anything wrong miss, we are pleasant with you and your husband like good neighbours ought to be; all our past disagreements have been forgotten. We are happy to see you getting involved in village life -- fitting in with us. But just remember missus, when you feel the need -- we are here!"

There was one night in the pub when an argument broke out between some regulars and a man, who, like us was an incomer from the city, though he had lived there for some time. It seemed these arguments were started to provide entertainment, insults being traded and it was sometimes difficult to tell the difference between what was meant to be fun, and when it was on the brink of getting out of control. The verbal insults had begun, the jousting, the contest had commenced.

"We country folk would survive in a crisis 'cause we have skills like knowing how to hunt and live off the land -- catch fish and all that. City folk would be lost and not know what to do."

"Bullshit!" cried out Simon, the city man, "You stupid bastards would kill yourselves eating contaminated meat -- what if the animals and fish were affected too? Believe me, by the time you came into the cities looking for processed food from the big stores we city dwellers would have already moved and secured it all."

As more customers gathered around our corner of the pub either to listen or join in the debate it became impossible for bodies not to touch each other. I hadn't noticed that two members of the pack who had been very vocal, had now closed in, and to give them better access to Simon, room had been made for them -- either side of me! Now they sat on stools close to me with Steve almost opposite.

"So you think we are quite dim then -- us country folk?"

"Certainly you're not as wily as you make out to be," replied Simon. "City folk could easily pick up what skills you have if they needed to."

"Right!" said the pack member Billy, "We're not bright enough to get one over on you city folks."

A hand, under the table had crept up my thigh. I immediately snapped my knees together. Trying not to show shock I used my glass to cover my face alarmed that someone would see and all hell would break loose with Steve fighting the men. It was hard to keep my legs shut tight preventing the hand from sliding up my inner thigh while trying to prevent the other hand, which belonged to Billy's mate from working it's way up my outer thigh.

At first I wondered why no one had noticed and was astounded by the audacity of the men who, in such public a place had the nerve to fondle another man's wife! I soon realised that because one side was sheltered by the wall and due to the crowded corner, no one actually had much of a view of anything going on because too many bodies were in the way.

"So we isn't crafty enough, or bright enough or capable of fooling any of you city folks -- we is too simple?"

Billy's mate kept repeating the insults and accusations of Simon making him sound as though the man was right after all and he agreed with him.

"See!" said Simon seizing an opportunity to reinforce his point, "You sound like a stuck record, repeating your self and sounding like a half-wit!"

The crowd laughed. No one noticed the two hands up my skirt. Keeping calm I managed to smile in the right places and even laughed out loud with others, as though nothing was amiss. The men argued and should anyone have grown suspicious as to why either of the men had hands under the table they began to alternate, with Billy caressing my thigh and trying to worm a finger down between the top of my tightly clasped legs then withdrawing it as Edward, his friend, took over. Each man would have both hands in view every other minute and no one would be any the wiser or notice that I was being fondled -- right in front of my husband. Simon was wrong; these men were capable of being very crafty and very devious.

Eventually the people around grew tired of the so-called debate but most stayed put with small groups talking and joking amongst themselves. The fingers gently explored and prodded, and it was becoming a battle of minds, which of us could break first, the men or I. Then it seemed to change, for me at least but I think also for the men, their touch was not forceful, their faces didn't show the same malevolence. We didn't intentionally catch each others eye and our conversation was directed to others around the table, including my husband, but the weirdness of the situation was making me feel a strange thrill.

The fingers had also managed to tickle and touch the very top edge of my vagina, stimulating me in a way that was wrong. I suddenly realised that, with all the shifting and moving, plus with the fact that I had grown quite used to the fingers being where they were and lost my sense of exasperation, that I was beginning to feel more relaxed.

My husband had gone to the bar for a round of drinks, so too had the men. As they came to sit back down Steve passed me my glass, I reached forward, half standing to take it from his hand, the men squeezed back onto their stools at the same time. When I balanced, lowering myself onto my seat through necessity, I had spread my feet a little -- and as I sat a hand was there between my legs, just slightly touching my slit.

"Is that drink okay?" Steve shouted across the table over the chatter.

"It's fine," I shouted back, smiling, then with a rapidly beating heart I relaxed even more -- and let my knees, and my thighs -- fall apart.

Now I needed to join in the conversation, or appear that I was, to disguise the fact that Billy now had two fingers inside my wet vagina, and was playing expertly with my clit. Edward had figured out what was happening and for a second, as I lifted my glass to take a sip our eyes met. His look was questioning, curious, as to what I would do in the next seconds when his hand would want to take over. I knew that one hand was about to replace the other and exaggerated my interest in the subject of the conversation, laughing just a little louder than I would have normally. I felt Billy's hand withdraw slowly as he too joined in the chat making appear all was normal and regular. I took a sip and patted my upper chest clearing my throat, shifting my hips slightly and opening my legs -- letting Edwards fingers creep inside my knickers.

I was wet; being fingered while sat amongst a crowd, feeling those rough hands inside my panties made me thrilled and aroused. At one point Steve leaned forward speaking to me and gave me a quick kiss as my body too bent forward. My husband whispered, asking if I was enjoying myself and I answered yes, feeling those rough thick digits push further up my hole. From the sides of my eye I saw both men smirk.

It had to come to an end as people were leaving and we were more exposed. Hot and flustered I needed to get out for a minute not least to satisfy the urge to piss. Without drawing attention to myself I signalled to Steve my intention and slipped away. Reaching the narrow passageway leading to the ladies room I took a deep breath as my brain took in the amazing act I had just let happen. Behind me I heard the busy chatter of other giddy women who I assumed were on the same quest as I was.

When I hurried into the ladies room and heard the door swing open again I didn't bother turning but felt something was odd as the chatter should have been louder. Walking into a cubicle and about to turn to close the door I felt a pressure on my back and saw the shadows of two large men block the light. Inside with me were Billy and Edward -- and in behind them but unaware of their presence were the two chattering women who it seemed had made a small diversion, so clinching my fate.

Stood still and once again shocked I was frightened the women would realise what was going on. Not daring to move I trembled as, squashed with Edward at my side and Billy at my front I looked up at their devilish faces, feeling the buttons of my shirt being undone and my skirt being slid up my to my waist. Hearing the giggling gossip of the women I was helpless and could only watch as Edward slowly unzipped his fly taking out his almost fully erect cock then placing his hand on my wrist to guide my fingers to wrap around his shaft. Billy allowed himself a smile as he lowered my knickers slightly pulling the gusset to one side.

The silly women took a long time, hovering, preening gossiping while I was slowly and systematically being touched, sexually abused, with Billy opening my shirt to admire and play with my tits over my bra and Edward working my hand over his foreskin while he played inside my pants with his spare hand. Both men sported hard dicks, rampant and impatient to get inside my cunt.

Billy kissed my neck and lips then as the women left I whispered loudly and firmly. "The only reason I haven't screamed is so not to cause trouble -- you'll have to get out! I need to pee!"

Billy hushed me by placing his finger over my mouth as the door was heard to open again. More women had entered and we needed to be quiet. Billy saw that as an opportunity to put that same finger into my mouth and move it back and forth making me seem as though I was sucking a small dick, I dared not resist. We had to be very quiet -- Edward was peeling down my panties, about to take them off altogether. They gently pushed me back to straddle over the porcelain; the purpose was clear -- if I needed to piss, then piss!

The women gossiped and giggled, the men waited watching, touching. Edward played with my clit parting my labia, waiting for me to empty my bladder and both men occasionally kissed me -- and because of Edward touching my clit I was starting to feel like kissing them back. The door went, the women left -- and I needed to take that piss. My lips opened for Billy when he began to kiss me; and I began to empty my bladder. My hand worked without any help on Edwards foreskin.

Billy's tongue licked inside my mouth, but then mine explored his. The sound of my piss splashing into the bowl excited me and the men looked to watch too. Edward kissed me, Billy kissed me again and in between I whispered.

"You must promise never to tell anyone or use this against me!"

They didn't answer; I wanted fucking. Taking hold of Billy's dick I pulled it and him close to my hole, Edward helped me balance and held me, gripping my breasts as I spread my legs to take Billy's dick inside my cunt. The time we spent inside there was not all that long; but women came and went. When the door opened we would slow down, giving us time to look at each other while we fucked, me with one hand wrapped around Edward's cock, Billy inside me; we would lick tongues, like erotic snakes. Then, when the place was empty we would thrust against each other fucking hard and enthusiastically.

Edward knew about George and I, he had watched. Before long a moistened finger was up my arse thrusting away. Then the door went again and I heard my name called out.

"Susan?" called the landlady, "Are you alright -- Steve asked me to come and check?"

My voice faltered, "Yeah, I'm okay, I just felt a bit queasy, probably drank too fast -- be right out."

It was as though she suspected something, "Right, well don't be too long, he may come himself and make sure."

The situation was urgent and time was limited -- at that stage none of us wanted to go away unsatisfied. We fucked hard and I was almost feeling sorry for Edward that he would never get chance to fuck me properly -- not that night anyway. I wasn't shy of showing my delight when hot sperm filled my cunt then, from Edward, the palm of my hand. We didn't talk or hang around. As I reappeared in the public bar cleaned up but flushed Steve accepted my explanation and it was time anyway for us to go home.

It was hard for me to come to terms with myself realising that once again I had shown such enthusiasm and willingness for sex with members of 'The Pack'.

The villagers, like the landlady of the pub had made clear, were not without their share of promiscuous women. Steve had attracted the attention of several young wives and one particular sex-starved teenager of nineteen whom always seemed to appear when he was in the village.

"You can talk!" he fired back at me when I brought the subject up, "You pretend you don't like all those guys but I've seen the way you look at some of them. Anyway," he joked, "Glad I can still pull good looking young women!"

I joked too, "She'd eat you alive -- have you seen how short her skirts are -- and those low cut tops! Oh dear, silly me -- of course you have -- you develop a limp! Not sure you could manage her Steve!"

He grabbed hold of me.

"And you think you could handle those big farmer types? Wouldn't they be a bit too rough for you, ripping your knickers off? How many could you handle before you begged for mercy?"

We were both starting to feel aroused. I whispered in his ear

"Do you think their cocks are as big as their hands and feet? Maybe about four or five - or two groups of three!"

"You dirty arrogant sexy bitch!" he joked, unfastening my skirt.

I unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock.

"How quickly could you recover after servicing that young wench -- she'd want more than you could give her in one go?"

My husband whispered in my ear as he entered me, "I'd enjoy myself trying!" he said, "What about you?"

"Who knows?" I replied, "I may find out one day!"

"Do you sometimes wonder -- about other men I mean -- what it would be like?"

I felt honest, "Yes, sometimes I look and wonder. How about you?"

My husband was very excited and aroused.

"Let's go up stairs!" he said.

Steve said later that our lovemaking session had been one of the best; he seemed intrigued and wondered if our talking about, and imagining, having sex with other people might have provided that extra stimulation.

"I wonder if you'd easily give in to temptation if the chance came along?" he said.

The possibility seemed to excite rather than worry him.

During the winter months I made a point of staying out of the way, not leaving myself open to the attention of members of 'The Pack'. Our evenings spent in the village pub were confined mainly to weekends, preferring instead the warmth of our cottage and the log fire rather than trek out down to the village in the driving rain and wind.

Apart from the weather two little incidents had made me wary. One evening in the village pub the landlady, who now seemed to accept me as one of the locals, the change in attitude signified by the fact she now called me by my first name Susan rather than refer to me as missus, or ma'am, gave me a knowing look when one of the men passed by and she saw us exchange glances.

"I'd swear there's something between you two!" she said, winking her eye, "Told you there's lots of flirting goes on around here. Wouldn't be surprised if you two had indulged in a bit of 'slap and tickle' around the back." She stared, waiting for a response that wasn't forthcoming.

"You'd not be the first, nor the last!" she said.

There seemed no sense in feeding the gossips; I was horrified by the thought she might learn more.

The week before that however, I was off on a trip to town to deal with some business for Steve. Having called at a couple of places in the village first I turned onto the main road leading to town passing the bus stop; George stood waiting in the damp morning air. I had been grateful for one thing from him -- that he had never pursued or pestered me after our encounter or neither had he tried to use it against me, ridiculing me in front of his friends. It was stupid of me but I felt I owed him a favour, feeling sorry for the simple man who could not drive, standing forlornly, huddled up clutching his small bag.

"If you're going into town I'll give you a lift," I said, winding down the window.

George was grateful and polite, not giving any trouble. We reached town and though I expected him to pester me to go for a coffee or perhaps suggest he meet me later for lunch he simply thanked me and went on his way. Calling him back I asked how long he would be in town; the bus ran every hour until five in the afternoon.

"I think I will be here 'till late afternoon missus -- hope to make the four 'o clock bus."

"Well, I'm not sure how long I'll be here -- but I'll look out for you when I pass the bus shelter."

He had behaved on the incoming journey, it seemed right to offer him a lift back.

Maybe, after my errands were complete I found excuses to hang around. I kept getting flashbacks of our last journey and its consequences. In my subconscious a plan was hatching, not so much as a plan but a hope, a desire. It was three forty-five and from across the busy street I spotted George, sauntering along to wait for the bus clutching two little bags. The light was already fading on that dull winter's day; by the time we reached the village it would be impossible to see the occupants of a vehicle on a country lane. I was not so much worried about any villager, or even Steve -- I would be seen as being neighbourly -- as long as we weren't seen by members of 'The Pack' who would have more bullets to fire, more ridicule to pour on me.