Portrait of a Modern Marriage Ch. 08

Part 8

Old Routines & New Beginnings

The rest of the school term passed without much else happening with regards to Claire and I indulging in our newlifestyle. We had a couple more 'swaps' with Lizzie and George but that was it really. Lizzie by that time was really getting into the submissive thing and, whilst I was more than happy to oblige by turning her sexy backside bright red, I was not really into inflicting the sort of pain she seemed to want. She had purchased all sorts of clamps and implements of punishment for us to use but some of them I found more of a turn-off than exciting. She even went so far as to have several piercings done, her nipples and labia all had gold rings through them, and I must admit I did find thoseveryerotic.

Paul did eventually ask his young divorcee out, Sandra her name was, and at first things were a little awkward between him and ourselves whenever we met taking the kids to school. Sandra's son was also in the same class as Paul's son William and our Mikey and it was that that led us all to become good friends. The boys used to love to come round to our house to play in the pool and have sleepovers at weekends so it was only natural that we asked Paul and Sandra to stay overnight too. The first time we were all together, the combination of too much wine and Sandra sensing an 'atmosphere'led us to tell her all about my wife's and her boyfriend's earlier dalliance. Although she was shocked at first, she soon realised that I was totally OK with it and that there was no chance of a repeat and thatshewouldn't be required to join in with mine and Claire's little deviances. Eventually we all broke down into drunken, hysterical laughter promising not to mention it again.

One thing that was almost set in stone in those days was our family summer break.

My parents, Robert and Katherine, had retired early in their fifties from running my dad's building firm and a couple of years later had up sticks and moved to Brittany in North West France. They had bought a dilapidated old farmhouse years before on the outskirts of a charming little village called Kerloret near the town of Lorient on the Brest peninsula. It really is a beautiful place, just over 2 kilometres from the gorgeous beaches of Ploemeur and about a half hour or so to the airport.

My parents had spent years taking their holidays and renovating the house there, first of all camping whilst my dad (who was a builder by trade) worked on the farmhouse, until eventually they had a wonderful 4 bedroom home in the French countryside, handy for all amenities and access.

We had started taking our holidays with my mum and dad just after Mikey was born and it had become a tradition that Claire, the kids and myself, together with Claire's parents, would spend the best part of August there every year. To say it was convenient for us would not do the place justice. A total of a little over 5 hours travelling from our Cheshire home and we would be installed in a beautiful, old, countryside farmhouse, complete with a huge outdoor pool and sun-trap patio, all of which was walking distance from wonderful sandy beaches for the kids to play on.

Claire's parents, Michael and Sarah, still worked in those days. Michael was a chartered accountant and partner in a local firm, whilst Sarah had her own little florists on Prestbury high street.

People always say that, if you want to know what your wife will look like when she gets older, you should look at her mother. Well, all I can say is that the indications were 'spectacular'. Sarah had 'dirty blonde' hair like her daughter and granddaughter and, like Claire, had a very pretty face topping a wonderful, slim athletic-looking body with legs that just didn't quit. Was she a GILF?...Oh my god yes!!!... Undoubtedly so.

Michael also kept himself in good shape. He ran early mornings before work several times a week and played golf obsessively - (according to his wife). He was really looking forward to having Mikey play with him when my son got a little older having been disappointed thathisonly child, Claire, had shown absolutely no interest in taking up that 'damn stupid game' – as mother and daughter both described it.

My parents had always had liberal views on public nudity. As kids, my brother and I (he lives in Australia with his family now) had seen the both of them in various stages of undress when we were growing up and, as for long as I can remember, my mother would always sunbathe topless on our family holidays to assorted Mediterranean beach resorts. As a consequence, it was of no surprise to me when, the first time Claire and I holidayed with my parents, my mother spent most of the day wandering around the house wearing just a pair of bikini bottoms or shorts. Claire immediately joined in - (she had always sunbathed topless when we were abroad ourselves early in our relationship and subsequent marriage, also sunbathing nude in our own back garden when the British weather allowed) consequently me and dad were treated to a constant display of beautiful female flesh and my kids grew up to accept it as normal too. We never hid the children from topless beaches whenever we went to the seaside, although we always made sure it was a 'family' beach and there were plenty of other teenagers and younger around for them to play with, We weren't a 'nudist' family as such, just one which had the modern healthy attitude that is prevalent on most continental beaches; that a woman's bare breasts are not necessarily sexual or indecent but are actually quite normal and acceptable and that the human body is just a fact of life, not something to be derided, scorned or laughed at no matter what shape or size it is.

What did surprise me however, (and thrill me a little I must admit) is that the first time Michael and Sarah holidayed with us in France, Sarah joined my mum and my wife in discarding her top almost as soon as they had arrived – Claire had in fact warned her mother what to expect and Sarah was totally OK with the situation, as I'm sure her husband was too.- She also carried on with the established trend of just wearing shorts and no top around the house, together with my wife and mother, something she would have never considered when we were at home in England. I suppose the old saying'what happens on vacation, stays on vacation'springs to mind and although many of our holiday photographs from that period showed all three female generations of our familysanstops and with their breasts of various shapes and sizes exposed, it was never mentioned (and the picturesnevershowed to anyone outside our family) when we arrived back home. Luckily, digital photography had come into our lives by then, so there was no need to have any film developed and keeping those particular photos private was no problem.

(Note from the author :- I know from a personal experience when I was once inadvertently asked into the back room of our local chemist to collect a large parcel and whilst there saw probably hundreds of topless and nude photos of women pinned up all around the walls on display, that any good holiday snaps were kept as souvenirs by the developers for their own pleasure and amusement... How digital photography must have ruined their fun...)

For several years I had been around my own mother, my wife and her mother and occasionally other older female friends of my parents who visited from time to time without any sexual overtones going off in my brain. However that year, the year of mine and my wife's headlong dive into the world of 'open' marriage and sexual liberty, was different somehow. Due to my new-found freedom I had started to look at most women I met as potential sexual partners and found, certainly my mother-in-law and some of the other visiting ladies,verysexually attractive. I even noticed consciously for the first time - (honestly,thosesort of thoughts had never intentionally crossed my mind before) just what a magnificent pair of breasts my own mother had. Yes they were hanging a little lower than she would probably have liked but...My god they were big!!!...No wonder our house was so popular amongst my friends when I was growing up.

My new-found sexual attraction to her mother was discovered by Claire during the second week of that particular vacation. I was idly stroking my erect cock whilst watching Sarah andmymother playing badminton with the kids from our bedroom window. They were both topless and just wearing small bikini bottoms with both pair of elderly tits bouncing and swinging in a most provocative manner. Lost in my admiration of their female forms, I was surprised when my wife silently, - (and sneakily I might add) crept up on me without me knowing she was there. Instead of wildly admonishing me, as she no-doubt would have done several months earlier, she instead saw what I was looking at and immediately knelt in front of me and took my unrepentant cock in her warm mouth, sucking me to the back of her throat with well-practised ease. Of course the stimulation of my view from the window, combined with the naughty ministrations of my mischievous wife, soon had my love juices spurting down her throat as I moaned quietly in wonderful orgasmic bliss.

Standing and grinning at me, my wife wiped the sticky residue that had slipped from her lips and onto her chin before sucking her fingers clean and threatening me in what I hoped was a mock serious voice.

"I do hope that was for my mother and not yours," she giggled, "I think that would be too much for even our dirty minds... And don't even think of trying to fuck my mother you pervert, If my dad didn't kill you then I would," she whispered playfully whilst squeezing my spent balls quite painfully in her hand, "I know we agreed it is OK for you to fuck other women, just not my mother... Understand?"

I nodded my head in amused agreement, my thoughts wandering to how my mother-in-law would look bent over a table while I fucked her from behind... Ah well...One can only dream!!!...

The week before we were due to return home, all the grandparents decided to take the youngsters up to Paris and visit the Disney World resort there for a few days, leaving Claire and I to have a short 'private' holiday without having to worry about what we had to find to keep the kids occupied. I must say, that was great of the parents. My wife and I spent a blissful few days laying around nude by the pool and shagging ourselves sore in whatever room of the house we were in whenever the mood took us.

The day before the family were due back, Claire decided she wanted to go to our favourite little beach for a picnic. It was an absolutely beautiful place called 'Plage du Perello', about 2 kilometres from the farmhouse and a very easy, pleasant walk.

We got to the beach around 10am to find it almost empty as it was midweek and any locals obviously had other things to do. The back of the beach had several little hideaways; patches of soft white sand surrounded by bits of scrub-land with small bushes to the rear but open to gorgeous views of the sea from the front, and it was in one of those that we spread our blankets out and settled down for the day. Claire pleasantly surprised me when, for the first time ever on a public beach, she took her dress off to reveal she was wearing absolutely nothing underneath. She had walked all the way from our holiday home with neither bra nor knickers to protect any semblance of modesty she may have had. Although strictly speaking it was not a designatedplage nudiste, (nudist beach) full nudity was accepted provided it was discreet, but even so, that was the first time my wife had ever exposed herself fully like that in public – another sign of her increasing fetish for exhibitionism I suppose – Anyway, she stood and blatantly covered her nude body with sun-cream, paying particular attention to her freshly shaved genital area as she carefully rubbed the cream further into her moist folds than was probably strictly necessary, smiling and pouting coquettishly at me as she unashamedly covered her now glistening body with the sun protection.

She lay down on her back and propped her head and shoulders up on the bag we had carried our stuff in, her head towards the sea and feet pointing towards the scrub-land behind us, then settled down with her book, smirking at my open-mouthed expression of dismay. Shaking my head in amusement, I declined the opportunity to expose 'Little Bob' to public scrutiny and sat down, still dressed in my shorts, with my own book to read and facing the opposite way to my wife, consequently giving myself a spectacular view between her naked thighs – (and a wonderful view of the sea of course)

We had been there for several hours, occasionally putting our beach umbrellas up as the sun reached its red-hot peak, when we ran out of the water and food we had taken with us. Luckily there was a small refreshment hut a couple of hundred metres further along the beach so I was designated to 'trot off' to fetch more supplies. It probably took me about 20 minutes to get what was needed and return and when I did I found my totally naked, glistening wife happily chatting to an elderly couple who were stood in the bushes behind her as their dog was scratching around looking for rabbits or whatever.

Now let me tell you, I am absolutely useless with any language other than English, so I didn't have a clue what they were talking about. Claire on the other hand was by then quite fluent in conversational French, having a natural aptitude and picking it up over the years we had been going there, so she was happily laughing and joking with the old couple in their own language. About the only thing I understood was the"Bonjour Monsieur"I received when I first arrived and the odd word I managed to pick out in their animated conversation for the next 10 minutes or so.

Eventually they bid their farewells and made to leave us alone once again, the old lady smiling warmly at us with a mischievous glint in her 70-odd year old eyes before saying softly to my openly displayed wife,

"Merci Madame, mon mari se rappellera que votre belle chatte ce soir que j'espère. Peut-être je deviendrai chanceux ce soir."

Not having any idea as to what the lady had said, I was absolutely gob-smacked when my brazen hussy of a wife casually spread her legs and with her right hand pulled her very wet pussy lips as wide apart as she could before inserting her middle finger deep into her moist recesses, then putting the finger in her mouth and obscenely sucking her juices from it. I stared open-mouthed at her as she shuddered in what I instantly recognised as a small orgasm, her eyes closing as her breathing deepened and her nipples stretched to their maximum of their own accord.

Laughing loudly, the couple set off as the man said quietly over his shoulder,"Merci Madame, au revoir"

Shaking my head in disbelief at what I had just witnessed, I hissed at my once again supine wife, "What the fuck was that all about?"

"Oh nothing, he just said thank you and goodbye." she murmured impudently, a soft giggle breaking her voice.

"I knowthatyou hussy. I meant before...when you opened your...you know...your fanny like that!"

"Ohthat," she teased, "She just said that her husband thought I had a beautiful cunt and that maybeshewould get lucky tonight too." She laughed as she continued, "I just couldn't help myself. The thought of that old couple using the image of my body to turn them on enough to fuck... I just had to cum, so I thought why not?...I would really give them something to remember."

I stared in amazement at my wife. Not only had she totally ignored the fact that she was as naked as a jaybird while having a normal conversation with a fully-clothed couple probably old enough to be her grandparents, but she had then displayed even more of her charms to them as she made herself cum while they watched her. That was all so new. The Claire of a few weeks before would have been embarrassed to be even seen naked in public, never mind carried on a conversation as though she had just met a friend in a supermarket and then, even more unbelievably, had exposed her potent sexuality to a couple of relative strangers... Fucking Unbelievable!!!...

Eventually we gathered our belongings together and slowly made our way back to the farmhouse where I immediately bent her over the kitchen table, raised her dress to expose her gorgeously tanned buttocks and proceeded to give that beautiful arse the thorough spanking it deserved before spreading her legs apart and piercing her hot receptive cunt with my frustrated cock. Not surprisingly, given my wife's afternoon display of wanton exhibitionism, I came fairly quickly, filling her to overflowing with my sticky mess. Luckily she also came quickly, almost as soon as I first entered her in fact, so it was two very satisfied, very happy lovers who made their way upstairs to bed and had a much more relaxed session of lovemaking over the next couple of hours.

All in all then, that was one holiday I will remember for the rest of my life...

Once we had returned home from our French adventures we again settled down to what had become ournormalmarried life. The kids had gone back to school; young George had gone off to college (hopefully to distribute his new-found sexual prowess amongst the young female students of Glasgow University); Paul and Sandra had very much become a couple, having spent the best part of the summer break together; and Amy and the rest of my staff at work had obviously managed very well without me (as they always seemed to) - So by mid-September we were pretty much back in the old routine.

Claire had developed her new-found love of exhibitionism. For several years we had gone out on a 'date' night once a month on a Saturday whilst her parents had the kids over at their house for the weekend, leaving us to have a nice romantic couple of days to ourselves. These weekends had rapidly turned into 'shagfests' as we would spend most of our time nude and fucking each other with abandon anywhere in the house that took our fancy. Now, with my wife's latent desire to show herself, we would go somewhere we weren't known for our 'date'. She would wear increasingly revealing outfits whenever we went on our romantictrysts; sheer tops with no bra, shorter skirts (often with no knickers), all that resulting in her (and me) to get extremely aroused at the lustful glances that came her way from other men (and a surprising number of women).

We had begun to not wait until we got home to consummate our mutual lust, rather we would drive to various well-known 'lovers' spots and, always with the risk of being discovered, we would fuck like teenagers in the back seat of my car. We did at that time contemplate taking up the adventure of 'dogging' (as we discovered the practice is called); parking up in a specified area and allowing other men, or women to watch us perform or even join us in our sexual escapades. This idea we abandoned after a short discussion in bed one night. Neither of us wanted the risk of catching something from a complete stranger and Claire certainly didn't want to have someone she would never fancy in a month of Sundays take advantage of the situation and fuck her usually unattainable, gorgeous body.

This, of course, left us with the problem we had had right from the beginning of ouropen marriageagreement; I had no difficulty meeting potential lovers, whilst my wife struggled to meet anyone suitable. Therewasa young relief teacher who was at Mikey's school for just a week in early October, who had, quite understandably for a mid-twenties heterosexual male, tried his luck with the extremely attractive MILF that was my wife and complemented her on looking so good one morning as they passed at the school gates after she had dropped our son off. Little did he know that the afternoon he actually finished his secondment, he would find himself fucking a very horny, very attractive, 40 year-old mother of one of his temporary pupils in her marital bed in every one of her available orifices. As per our agreement, I of course knew all about this little sexual interlude beforehand and was able to hear all the gory details later that night as I was fucking my naughty wife's obviously pre-used pussy and rectum.