Memoirs of a Shared Wife Ch. 42

On the way back home after my seedy encounter with Barry, something happened to me.

Something that I managed to surprise myself with.

It was unusual, spontaneous....and very exciting.

Not something I'm proud of, but ultimately proved to be a source of great fascination and excitement for both John and Dave...who still talk about it fondly between themselves even to this day.

I personally don't see the big deal, I've done much more risqué things since.

I just laugh it off...."Oh yeah?...your still going on about that!... really?"

Is my response to their crude comments and jokes.

I suppose deep down I'm embarrassed, well, part of me is anyway.

The other part is proud of the effect I have on them.

When I left beaulah I decided to take the bus home, weather was atrocious by that time.

It was late, something to seven as I recall.

After a long intense oral session with Sammy followed by an equally intense tussle with Barry, I had missed my regular bus.

So I had to wait half hour to get the next.

But, I had a bigger problem.

An itch that was driving me to distraction, an all consuming urge that flooded my mind.

What Barry had done to me laid heavy upon my libido. That dirty, disgusting pervert had lit a fire within my dark inner self that only one thing could quell.

I had to...touch myself.

But how? In a bus station?

Feeling desperate, I tried the ladies room. No way! Filthy and busy, no chance I was doing it in there.

But the itch grew, I could feel the moist heat between my legs...crying out for some attention.

It wouldn't take much...

What could I do?

The answer arrived 5 minutes late..... Courtesy of Arriva yorkshire, my salvation.

The driver, who didn't look old enough to wipe his own nose never mind drive a double decker bus, was very jovial....clearly new to bus driving....and casually oblivious to the sudden idea which now gripped me.

Having caught this bus before at this time I knew the top deck was usually either empty or very quiet.

I paid and with my inner desires coming to the boil headed upstairs where I hoped I would be alone.

The top deck was empty save for an old couple sat right at the front, staring through a dirty, steamed up window.

They'd wiped a small area of condensation away to see out.

This reassured me, as when I looked around, all the other windows were fogged up.

There must have been quite a crowd on before.

Which of course meant, nobody on the outside would be able to see.....me.

I had some degree of privacy.

Quickly seating myself near the back I wasted no time, in doing what needed to be done.

My heart pounded, hands trembling with excitement and apprehension....what if someone saw me?

Quickly unfastening just the bottom half of my long coat, I proceeded to slide my right hand up the short dress..... opening my legs....touching my sweet spot through the flimsy knickers...

Working it up while keeping watch, making sure nobody else came up to the top deck, and the old couple weren't looking.

Then, when at the precipice....I closed my eyes and imagined him.... Barry....leering over me...on top of me....doing it.

I'm somehow able to keep my mouth closed as a strong one sweeps through me....breathing quickly through my nose.....half conscious still, of my surroundings.

Sure the old couple would hear my desperate breaths but no, the bus engine was just too loud.

My legs trembled as its grip left me....dizzy.

I'd gushed a little but it didn't matter, the winter coat would cover everything up....and it felt... so good.

So....fucking good.

Really quite liberating, doing it on a bus....ladies?....I urge you try it.

If you haven't already.

Anyway, when I got back home John was waiting for me.

Both our boys were at home, Chris upstairs in his room and Steve on the family desktop in the living room doing homework.

So, we were unable to talk properly at first anyway.

As I breezed past John in the hallway I gave him a secret look which he's seen many times before....and knows what it means.

I've got something exciting to tell him besides the usual.

John catches my look and returns one of his own with raised eyebrows.

I announce I'm going for a shower and with my big coat still on, make for upstairs.

With my husband following.

Chris's bedroom door is closed so he doesn't see his mum and dad go into the bathroom together.

John bolts the door, and then I begin telling him about my fun afternoon.

He loves this part, hearing all about....my day.

But this time I have a special surprise for him.

I talk in hushed tones while undressing, my husbands growing trouser bulge not escaping my attention as I slowly become naked.

He reacts with excited surprise at the news that I'd let Barry do a lot more than just expose himself to me....showing him the still wet stain he left on my naughty nurse dress....as proof... of my twisted depravity.

John, although very excited at what I'd done, did express concern for my safety.

He knew of Barry's reputation as a pervert, his obsession with women, and it worried him.

I laid my husband's fears to rest however, at least temporarily, with my next act.

Oral sex is perhaps, the finest of distractions, don't you agree?

So, I sat on the edge of the bath, grasped him by the belt and pulled him to me.

All the time looking up into his eyes and telling him not to worry, I had Barry eating out of my hand, I was in no danger.

I undied, unzipped and pulled down garments until at last it sprung forth before me looking so....stiff....so ready.

My poor hubby had been plagued all that day by erotic thoughts and mental imagery of me with my boyfriend.

He once described his time at work doing mundane ordinary things while a hidden part of him wallowed in the knowledge of my 'affair'....as the most exquisite, erotic....torture.

Knowing what I'm doing but not being able to see or take part....that... was part of the fun.

And now here I was at last, for him to use.

And he did.

John came quickly, just a few moments of my talentented tongue and it was over.

For him for now. There was much more to come that night, once the boys were fast asleep.

After I'd sucked him I jumped in the shower, got it nice and hot, then washed off the rigours of the day.

My mind wandering....

I hadn't told John the truth about Barry because I knew how he'd react.

If he knew Barry had treated me roughly, that would have been an end to it.

He would not want me going anywhere near that place again.

John's very protective of me. Yes we both enjoy it rough but this was different.

Barry, a stranger. A dirty pervert, trying to prevent me leaving his flat? No, that would be going too far for John.

I did tell him, when it was all over, but I'll come to that soon enough.

'Got him eating out my hand', is what I'd told John.

I sniggered to myself as the water caressed my skin.

He's a wild one alright, old Barry. So....eager...so determined to have me.

He had surprised me with his speed and wiry strength....sly old fox is the description that came to mind...very apt.

I'd escaped easily enough but....what if he did get the better of me....and I lost control of the situation?

I suppose I could always scream, that would be embarrassing and also my time with Sammy would be over once the truth was out.

A dark, twisted thought rose up from the inky depths of my imagination and briefly flashed its tail before disappearing once more out of view... not quite gone.

The thought?....What if he did get the better of me?

Would I scream? Or would I let him have me?

This thought, and the imagery it conjured up in my mind's eye stirred up a hornet's nest of erotic sensation which quickly spread within me.

Swallowing hard and closing my eyes tight shut, concentrating on thinking straight....trying to get him, out of my mind.

I had been in a high state of arousal all day, I needed to calm down.

Eventually that evening, I did have something else to think about....my loving husband.

He proved to be a very effective distraction from my obsession with dirty Barry....for a while at least....

Thursday.

The pleasant distraction I'd enjoyed on tuesday night at the hands...and something else....of John, unfortunately did not last long.

My mind was soon swamped with unclean twisted daydreams of...him.

All that thursday morning at work I'd been distracted, clumsy, forgetful.

Sammy, a man who excited and fascinated me in equally large amounts, had been pushed to the back of my thoughts.

Barry was now at the helm of my desires.

Dave had found out, I didn't want him to know as I was feeling embarrassed about my bizare attraction.

It was John who let it slip while talking with him wednesday night, our friend had called on the phone, just a friendly catch up.

Dave was surprised to say the least, and worried like John.

With visiting Sammy, Dave knew all about the pervert who lived next door.

I tried to explain but unlike my hubby, Dave couldn't understand, he just kept saying, "I know but... Barry?"

What Dave couldn't grasp was the concept that I could be repulsed by Barry and at the same time turned on by the idea, the fantasy... of giving myself to him.

To be used by him.

And, to be used by him was at the forefront of my mind as I walked that thursday afternoon to beaulah grove...and an appointment with two dirty old men.

It occurred to me rather suddenly, hidden in plain sight as it were, that I was now entertaining four men.

Unfortunately, not all at the same time. But it still made me feel rather special.

If only my friends knew.

I giggled to myself.

Shy quiet, reserved pippa.

That's the image I presented to those who knew me in everyday life.

They just wouldn't believe what I got up to in private....nobody would.

Two of these men were quite different in their appearance and personality's.

Two quite similar.

My hubby and our special friend Dave are very much alike in appearance, especially so later on when Dave lost weight.

The pair could be brothers.

Their personalities too, are almost the same.

Sammy and Barry are as different as chalk and cheese.

Literally a different colour.

Sammy, old and wise, kind and good natured on the surface, but with the right woman in the right circumstances....he can be very domineering and quite cruel....cold and heartless.

Just imagine if poor John didn't know what his sweet innocent wife was really doing?

The phone calls....

Believing Sammy was a good samaritan finding my phone...etc.

Sammy had a dark side alright.

Then, there was Barry.

The oddball creepy pervert who's personal hygiene was....non existent.

Barry.... who's desire for....and obsession with me....drives me to distraction and ultimately into his grubby, grasping hands.

Barry also seems to have a few screws loose, a quick, sly man who's apparent frail appearance is just an act to lure me into a false sense of security.

It's while pondering his wickedly sly approach, that I'm suddenly awoken from my daydream by the looming relic that is beaulah grove.

I'm almost there.

I read recently in the local paper that the place has been earmarked for closure.

It's badly in need of refurbishment but the council say they cannot afford it.

A petition is currently doing the rounds to keep it open and a beaulah grove support group has been formed.

I wonder absently while pressing Sammy's buzzer if it will do any good.

Sammy's voice, so loud through the speaker it makes me wince even though I'm prepared....welcomes me in.

Once inside I'm confronted by the familiar smell of damp and decay.

There's nobody at the front desk....good.

The manager, for that's what I presume him to be, appears not to suspect anything but it's always best to get in and out without him seeing me.

However, rounding the corner and going into the corridor that leads to Sammy's flat I see the manager walking ahead of me, as he levels with Barry's flat he turns and looks inside... comes to an immediate stop...

I hear him scolding Barry...."Hey!....Malcolm?....what are you doing?...you've been told about this before....get some bloody clothes on!"

It appears the guy has witnessed something that Barry had intended for me.

I keep walking and as I get close the manager notices me approaching, stops his berating of Barry and quickly closes his front door.

"Hello love."

He says, looking red faced and harassed.

Replying 'good afternoon', I intend to keep on walking but he stops me with a question.

"Has he been bothering you?"

He gestures to Barry's flat door looking concerned.

Shaking my head and lying through my teeth I reply that no, he hasn't.

The guy looks briefly surprised before continuing, advising me that if I have any problems with this tennant I'm to report it to him immediately.

Nodding my head and replying I will, then proceeding onward down the corridor to Sammy's place and knocking on the door.

I don't look back around, don't want to draw attention to myself, but I know he's still there watching me..... perhaps making sure I'm not bothered by Barry.

Sammy answers the door almost immediately and I'm ushered inside.

Once within his warm cosy flat the incident with number 8 is quickly pushed to the back of my mind.

Sammy pours the tea, and the charm.

We get down to our usual routine of friendly respectable conversation.

The build up to what we both know is coming, is almost as exciting as the act itself.

Almost.

Today I'm dressed in my 'secretary' clothing.

No need for the big coat to cover me up, both the weather and my garments being respectable.

Grey mid length skirt, white blouse, grey suit jacket.

Underneath I have black seemed stockings, and a black bra....no knickers.

I love the feel of being bare.

After our friendly, polite conversation takes on a more risqué tone I treat Sammy to a slow striptease right there in his living room.

I've brought the black lacy gloves again, he loves them.

There is something so intoxicatingly erotic....stripping off in front of a dirty old man....

His eyes devouring my body.

Soon we retire to my master's bedroom, where I begin with a back massage.

He's improving daily, the pain easing, it won't be long Sammy assures me....before he can 'take care of me' properly.

Afterwards I'm ordered to present my rear for his pleasure.

He's propped up with pillows on the bed naked, his big brown cock swollen, stiff, and ready for me.

Getting on all fours and backing up so my bum is in his face.....

Oh god....I love being eaten.

He soon has me moaning and eventually cursing....

While I'm being brought to a healthy, very wet climax by Sammy's eager tongue, I'm aware of 'him' next door.... listening to me....waiting for his turn.

That afternoon at Sammy's seems to fly by, even though I'm there above two hours.

During our conversation afterwards, I can't get Barry out of my mind.....am I really going to let him do... that?

Part of me is unsure, he is.. disgusting....but.

What would it be like to let him loose on me?

My curiosity fuels the excitement.

I must know.

Eventually it's time to leave Sammy, we kiss at his door and he promises me he'll be better by next tuesday.

And with a wicked grin, and a slap on my behind, we bid each other a good weekend....and he closes the door.

Leaving me alone momentarily, with the most exquisite feeling of nervous excitement I've ever known.

I'm shaking.

The adrenaline rush of what I know is coming, all consuming.

Slowly, once more on legs of jelly, I begin wandering towards number 8, home of Beulah groves resident weirdo.

Drawing near I can see the door is ajar but not fully open like usual, clearly Barry is wary after his encounter with the manager.

As I come to a stop outside number 8 a shadow suddenly looms in the crack of the open door....then a face...thrust into the gap.

Wild eyes searching out....me.

I'm bizzarely reminded of the shinning and Jack Nicholson's now famous, 'Here's... Jonny'.

In one of my trademark 'silly' moments that the reader may be familiar with I have to stifle a fit of giggles as I imagine Barry saying the words, his name taking the place of Jonny.

The door opens fully and I see Barry is wearing his dressing gown and apparently nothing else.

This time it's wrapped around him and tied properly, nothing on show... for now.

I'm beckoned inside with quickly gesturing hand and whispered words, "Pippa....come....come in....quick...come in."

He backs away from the door, to let me in.

Looking around, making sure nobody is watching, I step inside.

Barry then does something unexpected but so obvious it's gone straight over my head, I've failed somehow to take it into account.

He quickly closes his front door....then locks it... putting the key in his dressing gown pocket.

Part of me is kicking myself for not seeing that coming.

The other part is aroused by the man's actions, he's not as daft as he first appears this one....so sly...in his desire to own me.

Im now locked in a flat with a pervert.

However, I don't have much time to mull my situation over, as Barry once again lunges at me.

I'm pushed back hard into the wall adjoining Sammy's flat, his clawing hands going straight for my tits, groping through the material of the jacket.

I'm pinned and can't move at first, so let him grope me, feeling his hard on rubbing against my belly, his whole body squashed tightly against mine.

Barry's face is red, greasy, leering....just how I imagined it while on the bus.

His wild eyes stare determinedly into mine.

For those first few seconds I freeze, not knowing what to do....but beginning to enjoy the sensation of being molested.

Two things wake me from the trance, the first is that high pitched sort of squealing noise that Barry makes when he's enjoying himself.

The next is more forceful, quickly tiring of groping me through a jacket, Barry tries to tear me out of it, grasping the garment and pulling apart trying to pop the buttons.

It's a good quality jacket and the stitching holds briefly while I get things under some control.

Looking him in the eyes and grasping his hands in mine, speaking in a soft but confident tone I say, "Malcolm...no...take it easy...I'm not going anywhere....I'm here for you....I'm yours... alright?"

His straining hands ease off, but the determined feverish look remains.

I'm concerned about Sammy being able to hear us through the thin wall, so, looking around, I see the bedroom door over in the far corner of the room...

Motioning towards it, "Let's go in there."

At my whispered words Barry glances around at his bedroom door, when he looks back at me....oh my...

I've never seen a more determined, excited stare.

The sly old fox nods while grinning fiendishly then loosens his grip on my jacket but immediately grabs my forearm and takes off for his bedroom, with me in tow...

I don't resist.

I'm led forcibly through the door and into his bedroom.

Where I'm pushed towards the bed while Barry slams the door shut behind us.

I'm left briefly untouched as he does it, giving me a chance to remove the suit jacket and my blouse while I take in my surroundings.

Here I am, trapped within the confines of a perverts bedroom.

And what a state it's in....the word 'hovel' comes to mind.

The bed before me is filthy, covers askew, stains covering most of the bottom sheet and duvet cover.

There is a strong smell laying heavy in the air, a heady mix of stale urine and freshly squeezed semen.

Scattered around the room are dozens of dirty magazines, their pages stained with what I presume is Barry's cum.