Chronicles of a Shared Wife Ch. 01

Authors note.

This is a sequel to memoirs of a shared wife.

These are a collection of true life experiences.

I may have dramatised some of what happened but I have also toned down some of the content.

The series begins where 'memoirs' left off, after the physical relationship that happily married wife pippa enjoyed with her hubby's friend Dave, ended.

It was spring 2016.

The events of my 40th birthday, now just a memory, an erotic but also guilty one.

A curious combination...

It was several months before we began 'looking' again.

Searching for someone to share me with.

After having experienced what it was like to have that special guy join us, we were both eager to have it back.

For us, there is simply nothing more erotic.

Myself with another man while my hubby watches and joins in...is our drug.

And we were beginning to experience withdrawal symptoms.

Dave and Becky are very happy together.

She moved in with him and got on very well with Adele, Dave's youngest kid.

Our family situation had changed too.

Our eldest son Chris was at college and dating. A nice girl called Zoe.

We hardly saw him anymore, he was always either at college or Zoe's parents house.

Steve was in his final year at high school, doing very well.

He too intended to go to college. No girlfriend as yet, late developer our Steve.

After things with Dave ended there followed a strange intermediate period where we were in a kind of mild shock at his absence.

We still saw Dave occasionally on his own, where we could talk about our secret past away from Becky's prying ears.

Reminiscing over a drink usually at our house.

It was during these times that Dave would urge us to try again and find that special guy to replace himself.

He could see that we desired, what we had lost when he 'left'.

And perhaps felt guilty.

But, it wasn't that easy. We had come across Dave quite by accident at the walking group.

The chances of meeting someone in similar circumstances were remote.

In desperation we turned to a tried and trusted method, the email pen pal sites.

I posted my profile in two very popular websites, but before anything could happen there..... something happened elsewhere.

Something unexpected and spontaneous.

Often the best encounters are like this.

And this, was one such encounter.

Spring of my 40th year, saw change but also some familiar activity.

As mentioned in previous chapters, my husband John is an avid wild camper.

He's usually gone for one weekend out of every month from april to october.

Sometimes I go with him but not in the colder months.

Anyway, it was a sunday evening in april when John reappeared at our front door after spending the first weekend of the season out on his own wild camping.

He had his big pack on, he was dirty, and stank.

It amazes me to this day how someone can become that smelly from just one weekend roughing it.

I welcomed him into the kitchen, helping my hubby off with his pack.

Almost immediately I noticed something different about him, there was a look of great excitement, along with the usual weary look in his eyes.

Not waiting for him to speak I simply asked with a questioning frown, "What?"

As he plonked down at the kitchen table.

John looked straight at me wearing a strange secretive grin.

"What?", He asked, repeating my enquiry.

Then continued, "What?....oh pip...."

He shakes his head.

"...your not gunna believe what I found....what I've seen."

Now my hubby had my full and complete attention.

"What do you mean?....what is it?"

I asked again while pulling up a chair next to him.

He shook his head again, the grin broadening, forming itself into a chuckle.

"Oh fuck me...."

He trails off, continuing to giggle to himself.

Becoming impatient, I ask one more time, with a more serious tone in my voice.

"Come on that's enough now... stop pissing about.....just tell me."

Hearing my pleading tone, John responds by ceasing the laughter, slowly shaking his head while forming a downturned smile.....no.

"Sorry love but this is gunna work better as a surprise."

His resigned voice.

"Trust me.... you'll thank me for it."

As you can imagine I was not best pleased, my curiosity hurts if I don't get it satisfied.

Like an itch that you can't scratch.

But John wouldn't budge on his secret.... not even parting with a clue.

It was obviously something or someone he'd encountered while out on his travels, but what?

My imagination ran amok.

As the week wore on, despite my prying, John's lips remained tightly sealed.

On wednesday he asked me to make sure my weekend was free, no girls nights out etc.

I agreed on the condition he give me a clue.....none was forthcoming...so I obeyed him anyway.

By friday I was desperate!

I'd endured a week of torture by curiosity.

On the friday evening after arriving home from work, John told me that if I wanted to find out what the secret was then I would have to accompany him that night....

A short drive out into the country followed by a walk.

"Wear something practical and drab.... nothing that stands out."

John instructed me.

The plot thickens....

April is usually a mixed bag of weather and still cold, especially at night.

So I chose black leather boots, jeans, t shirt and jumper with a leather jacket on top....hardly sexy, but it fitted the description of 'something practical'.

I was given no other information, John really was taking the secrecy thing very seriously.

We set off in the car that friday night quite late, nearly 10.

Driving out of town along familiar roads initially.

But then he lost me down ever more secluded country lanes.

Another 5 minutes and I hadn't a clue where we were.

Eventually, John slowed down and pulled in to a passing place along a lonely narrow lane.

Turning the cars lights off we were immediately plunged into darkness.

Albeit temporary, night vision encroaches... creeping slowly in.

Getting out, John asked if I was ok?

Confused but increasingly excited....I nodded in reply.

He then proceeded to lock the car and set off, into the night....with me following.

A full moon shines down on the weary potholed tarmac, little pools from a recent downpour flash its reflection briefly at us as we stride along side by side.

Tall hedgerows on either side of the lane create a closed in, secretive atmosphere.

Although nervous, an air of mischief is prevalent....a strong desire for adventure floods my being.

The night is cool and fresh, a gentle breeze fetching with it the scent of horses, and a farmyard.

An offensive smell to some but one I happen to like.

A strangely reassuring smell.

John walks beside me in silence for several minutes, then, as we near a gap in the hedge on our right he slows to a stop and turns to face me.

Giving me my first clue....

Leaning down to speak quietly, his face close to mine.

"Look.... there's no guarantee it will be happening tonight....this is guess work on my part so I apologise in advance if I've dragged you out here for no reason...ok?"

Again I nod my understanding, adding a quiet, "Ok." For good measure.

He continues, "It was there last friday at this time so I figured....you know....it might be repeated."

Nodding once more my acknowledgement, John goes on to warn me that we will now be going across country and will be on private property so I'm not to make any unnecessary noise.

Setting off again, we pass through the gap in the hedge and follow another hedge line up an incline along the edge of a muddy field.

What with all this secrecy and faffing about, I'm beginning to imagine what it would be like to strangle my husband... if it has all been for nothing.

As if to sense my annoyance, John keeps asking if I'm alright and informing me that it's not far now, every few minutes.

My patience is threadbare!

Then....it gets worse.

A large wooded area looms in the darkness, John announces that we are to enter, reassuring me again that 'it' is very close now.

Even in the darkness he sees how angry I'm becoming....leans in for a kiss, then says, "You won't be disappointed....I think it's on....I can hear them."

I can hear them? What does that mean?

I can't hear anything, at that point anyway.

John enters the wood with me gingerly following, trying hard not to make noise but it's virtually impossible.

It's been very windy of late and there are a lot of dead branches and twigs on the ground, just about every step I take goes crack.

But, as we get deeper in, another noise becomes apparent.

Subtle and quiet, but definitely there in the background amongst our footfalls and the white noise of wind through trees.

At first I can't make it out, but then I realise what it is as we get closer to the source.

Voices, there are people close by....but here? In a wood.... way out in the countryside at night?

Closer still we creep, pushing through the shrubbery.

Now I see light through the trees, and figures moving.

The sounds they are making become more recognisable....excited male voices.....and a woman....moaning in the grip of some intense pleasure....upon hearing this, my heart leaps into a rapid thumping rhythm.

Then....I see...

We are near the edge of the woodland, a barbed wire fence marks the boundary.

Beyond that is a small gravel car park.

I'm later informed by John that the car park belongs to a nature reserve.

Following my hubby closely, slow... careful steps....until we are close enough to see.... everything.

John looks around at me while grinning, his face beaming with excitement, "I told you it would be worth it."

My hubby's voice low, barely audible above the breeze in the trees.

Looking past him, following his gaze as he looks back at the spectacle playing out before us.

I see several parked cars.

The car park is ringed by a tall hedgerow and it's very secluded, only one entrance in and out.

There, in the foreground before us, through trees and wire fencing, is a grassy area with picnic benches.

It's upon this grass, atop a blanket, that the woman I can hear moaning is laid on her back.

A large semi clothed black man is on top of her, fucking her.

Gathered around them is a small group of men, two of which have mobile phones out and pointed down, filming what's happening.

The others have their erect cocks in hand, wanking as they observe the couple.

Through the light cast by the phones I can see the woman has her bare legs wrapped around the black guys waist.....his trousers and underwear are around his ankles.

Watching, staring intently, I see his big bum clenching as he humps her.

I'm filled with the utmost excitement as I take in this scene....but there is more.

John indicates over to our right, carefully raising a finger to point while glancing around at me, "Look....over there."

He says quietly.

Following his finger I see another group of men, this time gathered around a large car.

This group is further away but I can make out the figure of a woman, she is stood, bent right over resting her upper half on the bonnet, her lower half bare.... there's a guy fucking her from behind while she has her head buried in the groin of another.

Again, she is barely visible, being surrounded by men with mobile phones, casually filming....

It appears that my John, bless him, during a wild camping trip last week has inadvertently stumbled upon a dogging site.

Words cannot begin to describe what I'm feeling at that moment of realisation.

I had actually considered, when trying to guess at my hubby's secret, perhaps some lovers lane 'in car' situation.

Or maybe he'd discovered some kind of occult group who dabble in sex rituals, skyclad.

Both good guesses I'm sure you'll agree.

But I dare not hope for such a show as this....

This, was outstanding.

We had watched many a dogging video on porn sites in the past.

It is one of my ultimate turn ons.

The thought of giving myself to lots of strangers.... letting them use me....one after another....

That fantasy, leaves me feeling weak and light headed.....so powerful the effect it has upon me.

However, it is to this day, something which I have not yet been able to pluck up the courage to do.

Crouching down low, copying John beside me, I continue to stare in excited disbelief.

Anxious that they will see, but unable to resist this private viewing.

As I stare, it seems almost impossible that they cannot see us.

There is little foliage on the branches of trees and bushes before us, only the darkness shields our presence.

A flimsy veil of secrecy, all it takes is one of the camera users to point in our direction...

The chance of being caught? A bringer of both anxiety and intense excitement.

Enhancing the experience.

Watching the show intently, completely focused.

Mainly on the closest group.

One of the guys filming, blocking my view, moves to his right giving me a clearer image of the couple.

They are about 20 yards away.

Laid facing us, she is clothed on top, a skirt on her lower half is pulled right up revealing bare thick thighs.

She appears to be a curvy girl.

Blonde hair, young, about 20 something.

It could be me 20 years previous... a sobering thought of getting older....and missed possibilities.

The guy is older but not much, he's big and broad, heavy looking.

Very dark skinned.

The contrast between their colour reminds me of myself and old Sammy in days gone by.

Dear old Sammy.

The big black guy is really going at her, the girls body shaking violently to each powerful thrust....it's beautiful to watch.... mesmerising.

I cannot look away.

Her moans and gasps become louder, condensing breath from her wide open panting mouth billowing upwards....mingling with her lovers.

As I continue to stare between branches, she lays her head right back, pointing toward us.

If her eyes were open? She would perhaps see us.

But they are closed tight shut.

A brief moment later the young lady tenses up....screams out loud into the cold night air....

Her face contorts, eyes screwing up tighter still.

A ripple of excitement both animated and auditory goes through the small crowd of men stood watching.

Gestures, clapping, excited comments.

I can't make out the words.

One of the guys filming it gets right down on his knees, holding the phone inches from the girls face.

Capturing the moment of climax.

She....does not notice.... blissfully oblivious.

She is somewhere else.

Somewhere wonderful.

At that moment, I so want to be her.

To be in her position.

Being used and filmed....and fucked....and fucked.

Over and over.

The guy stops humping for a moment, staring down at her, a big grin forming on his face.

His attention briefly diverted to the man who's filming, he's saying something to the black guy.

It's very frustrating not being able to hear what's said.

He nods and says something back, then slowly begins to fuck her again as she recovers, her tight grip upon him relaxing.

The cameraman says something to the woman, then stands up, walking around the couple to capture different angles.

Looking back at her, I see that weary but satisfied look that I've seen etched upon my own face many times while watching our special 'home video's'.

At this point my attention is interrupted by a commotion over at the 'car' group.

The men surrounding the woman over there become animated, excited.

Some clap, others cheer.

Although I cannot hear anything from her, it appears she too has just climaxed.

Continuing to watch this group, I see the man behind her has stopped humping.

It seems that he too has reached the point of no return.

He withdraws and is immediately replaced by another guy, who promptly gets down to business.

There is no respite for her.

Or for my focus of attention, as it's grabbed once again by the foreground group.

The black guy has sped up, his thrusts desperate....jerky.

He's coming.... coming in her....while we watch....while they watch.

He doesn't make much noise, just locks up, bum clenched tight, staring down at her.

She stares back up at him, moving her lips, saying something....I can only imagine what...

He stays like that, frozen for a brief moment.

Then lowers down to kiss her on the lips before withdrawing.

Getting up onto knees, pointing down between her legs, drawing attention to what is no doubt a substantial cream pie.....leaking.

The guys filming, both point their phones down at the sticky mess, it's so frustrating not being able to see everything.

Our little vantage point is good but it has its limitations.

If only I had the courage to break cover, make my presence known to the group of men....

What would it be like...

To join them? To let them have me?

The thought brings with it mouthwatering images....

Coming to....from my brief daydream, I can see the black guys cock dangling, wobbling a little as he goes to stand up.

It's in the process of deflating but it's still a whopper, perhaps as big as Harry's, my old boyfriend.

It's glistening with her juices and his cum.

The guy makes no attempt to clean himself, just pulls his trousers and underwear back up in one go.

The man who filmed the woman's face up close now becomes the center of attention.

He announces, in a voice I can at last hear... addressing the crowd, "Who's next?"

What he says and how he says it....I'll always remember.

It's now clear to me that this 'cameraman', is connected to the lady on the blanket.

Perhaps they are boyfriend and girlfriend.... or hubby and wife?

I'm struck by how casual his important statement is delivered.

That is what makes it stand out.

'Who's next?', who is next....

She... has no say.

No choice.

She, is his property

She belongs to him...and the crowd.

At that point I realise, while moving position slowly... carefully...trying to stay low....just how wet I've become.

So absorbed by the show, the effects of my own intimate arousal have gone unnoticed till now.

The gusset of my knickers is soaked.

My mind is swimming in a sea of erotica, still in disbelief and mild shock at what I'm witnessing.

It's too good to be true.

In reply to the 'hubbys' question, a man steps forward out of the group.

This guy looks much older than the others, perhaps in his sixties.

He's balding, wearing glasses and quite short in stature, probably the same height as me.

He's one of the group who has been wanking while watching....now it appears....he is ready to have a 'go'.

The old man says something to the hubby, who turns to the girl and barks something at her.

I can't tell what exactly he says but the tone it's delivered in is more like an order than a request.

She promptly rolls over then gets up on to her knees, the old guy getting into position behind her, taking his trousers down....

While doing this another from the crowd steps forward, gets down onto his knees in front of the girl.

I watch wide eyed as she takes him into her mouth, just as the old guy grasps her hips and pushes himself in....

The classic spit roast, a situation I've found myself in many times.

Watching intently the look on her face, she has her eyes closed once more, mouthful of cock...a look of concentration.... she's absorbing all the sensation...soaking up every little movement.

Just as I would be...

So engrossed in the scene unfolding just yards away, John's unexpected touch causes me to jump in surprise.

I've failed to notice that he's moved position away from my side....to my rear.

He's close, pressed up against me, arms creeping around my waist in a bear hug.... firmly grasping.