Another View of Amanda Williams

Quickly, I shoved my pants and trousers down in one go. You have to strike while the iron is hot and it can't get much hotter with a chick than having your cock in her hand while she has her jeans round her ankles.

At such times they like a little bit of romancing, I have learned. Pressing my bare cock harder into her hand as, at the same time I squeezed one of her pert boobs I whispered.

"God I've wanted to get you like this from the first time I saw you in double barreled surname's office," I muttered.

"Mmmmm," was all she replied, the cool cow.

But she didn't demure when I slid my hands into the waist band of her panties, nor did she do anything, but lift her bum from the desk, when I pulled them down. "Fuck" I remember thinking when I saw that her pubes were also chestnut coloured, "I wonder if she dyes them."

I went to shove the old boy in her, but she stopped me.

"You have to use something, I'm not on the pill," this was pre aids, although herpes was on the radar screen.

I struggled into a rubber a bit pissed off, for most of the time I managed to go bareback and much preferred that.

Nevertheless, it was a good fuck. Not great, but certainly up there with the better ones. Not that she contributed that much, but then how could she wedged up against a desk like that? It was her quietly passionate response, her moaning, her hands all over my back and in my hair and, of course that we were doing it in such a place that got it an above average rating.

Chapter 3

So that's how Mandy and Kevin started.

"You dirty rotten, cheating fucking bastard, get out," was how it ended some fourteen years later. And to think at one time 'butter would hardly melt in her mouth'!

In between we: got married, had some great times, made a stack of money, got my business going: started a new one in marketing and promotions and had a lovely baby girl.

Of course I never stopped seeing and shagging other women, although I think Mandy was probably totally faithful, but then most men think that about their wives don't they? Maybe she strayed or had a fling now and then, but I doubt it, she's not, or wasn't like that.

She caught me out three times. Not bad really considering how many times I cheated on her. I never thought she would go the whole hog and kick me out or leave. She threatened it the first time and she left the second time, but both times her need and desire for a 'happy family' life got us back together.

I tried hard, in my way, to save the marriage. I didn't want to break it up, I didn't want us to part, to risk the businesses and upset our child. I just wanted to 'have my cake and eat it.'

Obviously, each time after she caught me, things got a little sticky for a while. The first time she slept in a separate room and there was no sex for a month, well with her that was, I had loads with a lovely Swedish au pair who worked for a neighbour down the road. The second time she slept in a separate house for a month. Of course it was her fucking parents' house, where else?

After a few years, things sexually between us got a bit stale. But then how could they not? She was always quite a good shag, but a man needs variety doesn't he? He needs more than just a good shag. I needed to go further with Mandy. I wanted anal, I wanted to cum in her mouth, I wanted to see her with another woman and watch her being fucked by another guy. I wanted us to go to orgies, try new things, push out the boundaries. Ok she wanked me with her hair and let me cum on her tits, big deal and once or twice let me shag her in rather risky places, but she had no interest in going further. Idealistically in my view, Mandy looked on sex and love as one thing. She wasn't able, as men and nowadays many women as well are, to separate them; she couldn't or wouldn't, just enjoy sex, it had to have such a big bloody reason. Why the hell she couldn't just enjoy a fuck without turning it into some great big emotional event I could never fathom?

Intermingled with my now almost serial philandering, a term her solicitor used during the divorce, quite neat I thought, I did get a few results.

I'd always enjoyed photography and had taken loads of shots of Mandy in and slightly out of swimsuits and stuff like that.

After the first, or maybe the second break up, I started fighting back, started demanding my rights as I saw them; more variety, more adventure, that sort of stuff, yes I wanted to shag my wife's arse and have her swallow my cum. After all, most of the bimbos I fucked, in posh hotels now, not cars, although I had my moments in them, were happy to take it anywhere and swallow whatever I gave them. It didn't occur to me at the time that that may well have been more due to my platinum Amex than my sexual prowess, which I felt was still bloody good for a forty two year old. In fact oddly, and again I didn't realise this until after the divorce, as I got older I felt more attracted to and seemed to have greater success with younger birds. Actually, the one I was having a thing with when Mandy caught me the second, or was it the third, time was slightly younger than Mandy was when I first fucked her.

Several times I had persuaded different birds bird to pose for me. Undressing, in their underwear, naked, legs open and playing with themselves were all snapped and saved: this was just before the digital age. Obviously, them posing like that led to us shagging. And bloody hell were they good shags! The posing and me photographing them seemed to add something massive.

So after Mandy thawed out a bit, I went on for a while complaining that our sex life had 'gone dull.' She was a real sucker for such sentiments. So, I suggested we try to 'spice it up'. I offered a number of alternatives including, a bit tongue in cheek for I knew she would say no, joining a swinging set, looking for partners to swap with and trying some bondage or a bit of BDSM. In some ways I was pleased she refused the latter for I wasn't actually too sure what it entailed and I felt that I would look like a real prick in a latex posing pouch. Try as I might she wouldn't go for the other suggestions so that when I dropped in her posing for me, she eventually agreed. Clever see, get her to turn me down on actions I knew she wouldn't go for, then get a sympathy vote for the other.

She fluffed around a bit pretending she didn't want to, but I knew she did really. They all do, after all, what's wrong with flashing your bits for your husband or lover? It's all private isn't it.

By now, Sara was seven or eight. Mandy hadn't been that careful after her birth and she had blown up a bit. She had that typical mumsy little pod on her stomach, which most of the time she hid, by breathing in, wearing tight knickers or loose clothing. The biggest change though, was to her tits. These had ballooned. When we first met, remember the shag in the office, she had really nice little boobs, about thirty three or four B cup. Just the right size. I have to admit that I am not a big tit fan. I like small, well-shaped tits, not fucking great mammories. And by the time of the photography, when Mandy was thirty five that is exactly what she had. Bloody great big tits. They put me off a bit, and may well have been one of the reasons why my straying became even more frequent and enthusiasm. I felt that I had to have sex with tits of my preferred size and that meant women other than Mandy and generally younger women.

Anyway, back to the snapping.

When Mandy eventually gave in and started letting me photograph her, I have to say it really went well. Not only did she, after a slow and shy start, take to it like a duck to water, but also I got to quite like her big tits and we had some fantastic sex. Being absolutely truthful, I had assumed that she would probably go no further than total nude. I was amazed, therefore, when on our third or fourth session we went much further.

Mandy was just wearing black, fishnet stockings and a black suspender belt I had bought her; she looked great. We'd been shooting for twenty minutes or so and I had gradually got her to strip out of the mini dress, slip out of her bra, play with her tits a bit and then remove her panties. She was lying on the floor and I was standing over her shooting downwards.

"Do what feels right, Mands, just go for it."

"Fantastic, that's great."

"Fuck me you look amazing, those tits look great."

These were the sort of remarks I made to her. I made them to her, because they had worked when I had made them to several other women I'd had in similar situations.

Although her body looked fantastic through the viewfinder, I think it was the smouldering look in her eyes that did most to give me such a hard on. As I had with Mandy and the other girls, I could feel that we were moving towards the time when we would fuck. There comes a time during a shooting session where that becomes not only inevitable, but also absolutely essential. And that often, usually probably, comes when the bird has stripped off and I've snapped her in all her glory. It had the previous times with my wife and I had no reason to believe it would not be the case this time. Wrong!

This time, as she lay before me naked on her back, her legs crossed, but doing exactly what I asked "Squeeze your tits Mands" she took things into her own hands, other than her tits that is.

Her gaze was burning into mine through the lens of the camera, there was a small smile on her face, her lips were slightly parted, her tongue was out a little on her upper lip and her eyes were partly closed. She rolled those half lovely and half gross mounds of flesh around and she pinched her nipples into even greater hardness. I couldn't stop myself from rubbing my erection through my trousers. Maybe that prompted her, but I doubt it, I think it was completely involuntary.

As my eyes and the lens visually fucked her, so Mandy slowly raised her knees up. As I watched and the camera recorded every movement so she, just as slowly, then opened them, wide. I could hardly fucking-well believe it. I was staring at her pussy; I was snapping away like mad, yes, I was photographing her cunt. Photographing my wife's cunt, a cunt I had fucked so many times, one I didn't want that much recently, but one that as I looked through the lens I wanted so much.

With one hand I kept on shooting, probably messing up the focus, and with the other I undid my belt and zip. I struggled my trousers and pants down and watched amazed as Mandy took things further. She slipped her hand down and I watched and shot fascinated as I saw her brown finger nail pressing down between the folds of her pussy, She found her clit and I photographed her body jerking, her eyes closing, mouth opening and her head falling back. She raised her arse off the ground and really started to frig herself.

I could photograph no more. I put the camera down, tore my shirt off and, unglamorously forgetting to take my socks, I got between her legs and fucked he. It was as good a shag as we had ever had.

That sort of thing happened a few more times. Mandy seemed to become a different person in front of the camera. A freer, more relaxed and confident person. She became wilder, more open and, wonderfully, dirtier. I guess there was an exhibitionist tendency in her that the photographing released.

Whatever the psychological reason behind it, I loved snapping her open-legged, her cunt dripping with her juices, her fingers fiddling in her pussy folds, her masturbating with both her fingers and, later, with a couple of vibs, a wicked looking black one and wild pink latex job.

Chapter 4

I suppose the photographing went on for a few months and, for a time, it really did give a boost to our sex life. I even went home a few times to shoot my wife and then have that extraordinarily successful sex with her, rather than fuck a young tart with who I was having a fling.

Regrettably, it all ended when she caught me for the second time. This time she moved out and it took all my charm, guile, persuasion powers and, I have to admit, slight threats as well to get her back.

After she and Sara returned to the family home, it was like a fucking igloo. The atmosphere was so cold and Mandy went frigid. She wouldn't let me near her and we had no sex at all for the first month or so. Of course I was getting it elsewhere, but that's not the point is it, a man should be able to shag his wife when he wants shouldn't he?

It took me ages to get things back to something like normality, but in reality I guess I never did, really. Trying, though, showed the right bastard side of my character, even though, at the time, I thought of it as my 'desperation' at trying to save my marriage. As you'll have gathered, I do tend to kid myself a bit.

Mandy was obsessed with the 'happy family and love lasts for ever' line of thought. She was convinced that she loved me and that we were meant to be together for all time. The idea of breaking up full time scared the shit out of her: I never really quite understood why, something to do more with Sara than us. Of course, though, I played on that. After I 'got my feet back under the table' or, in other words we started having limited and rather infrequent sex again, I started playing hardball. Slowly, as I tried to get her to let herself go and become more adventurous with sex, I started implying that if she didn't then I would leave her, for good. This was, actually, a bit rich considering I had pleaded for her to return, but then I have always 'wanted my cake and eat it.' My intentions, though, were not that straightforward.

I had, sort of tried, giving up my bits on the side, but failed every time. Fucking other birds was like a disease to me, certainly it was an addiction. I tried to explain this to her, but of course she couldn't, or wouldn't understand.

What I was after was for us to have an open marriage. Well not totally open, I didn't want her, going off shagging other blokes without my knowledge, but I wanted to be able to go and fuck who I wanted, when I wanted, cakes and eating, see? I explained it rather differently to that to Mandy, but of course with her prudish outlook and stuffy upbringing, she wouldn't even consider it. Not even when I promised faithfully that if she agreed to us finding some swinging partners, then I would give up bits on the side. It was a bit of a daft promise for I had already vowed that and as far as she knew, I was being faithful. See how complicated it is being a serial philanderer?

I changed tack when I saw that wasn't working and looked to have little chance, I never believe in 'flogging dead horses'!

We had started having sex again. Nothing special, nothing adventurous. No swallowing and no anal, just the normal, although we did find a good use for her big tits, for a while. But then later, as the marriage more and more broke down, she even screwed up that titty fucking. By losing so much fucking weight they were no longer any good for that. The real irony, though, was that as the pounds seemed simply to fall off her as the worry got to her, so her tits went back to the delicious, little buds they had been and I fancied her more. Odd sod aren't I?

In one of those post sex, post orgasm heart to hearts that new lovers have, Mandy had admitted that at uni she had had some girl on girl stuff. She'd told me that ages ago, even before we married. That had of course got me really going. I just adore lesbian stuff and the idea of seeing Mandy shagging, or being shagged by, another girl I found amazing. Ever since then I had tried to get her to have a threesome with me and another girl or, at least, let me watch her and another woman. But of course she never had, up until I essentially said unless she did then I was off, for good.

There was this girl, Jenny, who was a regular in the pub in the village where we lived at the time. She was an actress. Not very successful and she did a variety of other jobs ranging from promotions, voice-overs, role plays and, of course secretarial to make ends meet.

She was slim and attractive with long blonde hair and pert little tits. Although a little outside my usual target age range, I had, of course, tried it on with her a few times when I was in the pub without Mandy. She turned me down, quoting knowing Mandy as the reason. Fair dos and nice to know some people are loyal. I did think, though, if I had really pushed she would have gone for it.

Anyway she was very outgoing, rather mouthy and bit flash. She liked being one of the boys and the centre of attention, which she gained and held in the pub with her stories of her sexual exploits, including a couple of references to female casting directors, to get and keep jobs.

We had periods when we would go to the pub a couple of evenings a week and then times when we wouldn't go at all for ages. As coincidence would have it during one of our pub visiting times, Jenny was also using the place regularly. The three of us got quite friendly.

That's when I really piled on the pressure with Mandy.

We'd just had quite good sex. I opened up the topic of her going with another woman with me there. She refused.

"Look you did it at uni, why not now?"

"That's all behind me, I was just a kid."

"You were eighteen, you knew what you were doing."

It went along those lines, the same sort of thing for several nights, with her offering a range of different reasons. They were, though, I began to notice more now to do with the practicalities and not the morals of the issue.

"I don't go around fancying other women, it's not like that."

"I wouldn't know what to do."

"I wouldn't know how to pull a woman."

Were some of her latest excuses. Then the opening.

"Anyway, I don't know anyone who would."

"So would you if you did?" I asked quickly.

"Just her and me with you watching?

"Yes."

"I really don't know. We're not the same as men; we can't just turn it on and have sex with anyone."

"I realize that, but if it was someone attractive who you liked, would you then, for me, for our marriage?" I rather slimily asked.

She didn't completely reject that, so I took it as a yes.

Ok so that was Mandy fixed; now I had to find the other bird. Guess who was in the frame?

I racked my brain to think of a way to broach the subject with Jenny. I couldn't so I asked around about her. I had some pals in show biz. In the end I chose to be straightforward, an unusual choice for me.

I stopped by the pub a couple of times on my way home before I found Jen there. I bought her and the other couple of regulars a drink. I got her to one side, sitting across from each other over a table. We chatted about this and that before I got down to business.

"So how's the love life, Jen?"

"So so, your's"

"About the same, you know old married couples."

"I can imagine."

"Can you?" I asked looking her right in her eye.

"I think so, yes."

"What then?"

"You both get a little fed up, it all becomes a bit samey and one of you strays, didn't you Kev?"

I laughed. "How did you know?"

"Like most of the village, I guess."

We both laughed when she went on. "And of course you did invite me to stray with you, remember?" But we didn't pursue it any further.

"Yes it does become samey and we both look for something to spice it up a bit, you know what I mean?"

"Sure."

"Interested?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean would you be interested?"

"In what?" Jenny asked seemingly a little shocked.

"In helping us spice it up."

"How?"

"Well Mandy has always liked you."

"Huh?"

"Look let's get our cards on the table."

"Ok?"

"Mandy has been with other girls as I guess you have, right?"

As cool as cucumber Jenny took a sip of her red wine. "Sure."

"And like many men I have always wanted to see her with another woman."