Second Hand Goods

"I'll get some more drinks in, shall I?" I suggested.

"Let's have a dance first. Work up a thirst." said Lulu.

Right on cue the band played a slow one.

As well as finding out how far I could get with 'Sharon' on the dancefloor, I was also getting turned on watching my wife. Her skirt was stiff, and once her hands were around her Frenchman's neck, it crept up enough to reveal her buttocks. The thong was so small I couldn't see it from the back. Meanwhile, Chris had contrived to find bare skin above her waist, and was giving her a back massage.

"So you reckon a kilt wraps all the way round." I said. "Do you mean like this?"

I pressed my right hand firmly against her crotch, and slid it round to her buttocks. Then, keeping contact, my left hand took over and slowly returned to the front.

"Something like that." she said.

I held one hand up high and she twirled under my arm.

"That's not fair!" I complained.

"What isn't?" said Maggie.

"Your skirt flared out when you did that. And everyone saw your knickers except me."

"How do you know I'm wearing any?" she grinned.

"I just guessed. You did say that's not a kilt."

"Don't worry. I may let you see my knickers later."

We slipped an Ecstasy into their next drink, to keep them buzzing. Another round of drinks and half a dozen more dances, and it was clear we were all ready. I believe the expression is 'pushing at an open door'. Now came the big moment; it could go either way. But either way, our cheating wives were screwed.

"How about we all share one room?" I suggested.

"Bit pricey for you, are they?" asked Bethan.

"Nah. I just fought it would be fun. I'll pay for two or three hours if you like."

"I think it's a great idea." said Maggie. "Only one hour though; we can't stay too late.

Chris gave me a wink. Sure it was a good idea - this might be her big chance of a threesome. We went to reception and got a room.

"OK, to recap." I said, as the girls went to the Ladies'. "You've got the lube, and theatrical make-up. Get the lube up Bethan's arse and fuck it as soon as you can. I'll make sure Maggie sees you, and try to persuade her to try it. If she doesn't go for it, you have her anyway. Neither of them is in a position to call the police. When we're done, we get out of there and wait for the fireworks."

Up in the room, it went better than we'd imagined. Neither of us had ever had sex with the other wife before. And their slutty behaviour was a turn on. Barely ten minutes of foreplay, and Chris was pushing his length into Bethan's arse. He stopped for breath as he bottomed out. His first anal sex and he didn't want to cum yet. He soon got going again and Maggie got a good view.

"Fancy having a go at that?" I asked. "Looks like fun."

"I'm not sure." she replied.

"Plenty of lube, and I hear anal orgasms are intense."

She didn't speak so I grabbed the lubricant.

"Tell you what. Don't decide yet. Just sit on me."

It's called cowgirl style. Maggie bounced up and down on me till she climaxed. She fell forward and I held her face and kissed her. After swallowing her spit, I lifted her head.

"Don't be scared." I whispered. "Just relax. This is only for if you change your mind."

I still hadn't cum, and slipped a greasy finger up her arse. She held her breath as I lubed her. As agreed, Chris hadn't cum either, though I sensed that hadn't been easy, and was taking Beth anally, face to face. He yanked his dick out of her and she gave a little yelp; mostly disappointment. Then came up behind his wife, and I dragged her buttocks open.

"Ah, belle! I see a tighter derrière!"

He plunged in.

"No don't!" shouted Maggie.

Between us, we held her in place. Neither of us had ever tried double penetration, and it felt strange at first; another man's dick so close to mine. By the time I got used to it, Maggie was whispering 'Yes! Yes!" in my ear. We all came within a minute of each other.

She wanted to use the bathroom to clean herself up. Bethan, now looking angry at her Frenchman's sudden departure, went to help her. We had to be quick, and delved in their handbags, retrieved the bras that had only been intended for the homeward journey, and stuffed them into our pockets. Then we picked their knickers up off the floor. Maggie's were white, like Bethan's. We wiped our dicks on them and Chris produced the make-up stick. It was brown and waxy. He smeared some inside both sets of underwear; they looked like shit stains. Then we left.

In the car, Chris said: "You definitely told them we'd be at yours till late?"

"Definitely."

"You've got your normal clothes in the car?"

"Yep."

We drove to Chris's house and parked a street away.

Inside we tidied ourselves up and got into our everyday clothes. Then came the difficult bit. I had to glue on a fake moustache. We'd spent ages making it the same shape as my original. Time well spent I hoped; the last thing we wanted was Bethan -- well either of them -- identifying us. That might allow them to work out what we'd done. We were sitting in his living room, lights out of course, when their taxi pulled up. The girls were back half an hour earlier than normal. Chris jumped up and slipped across to the downstairs toilet. We didn't want either of them running for cover. As they entered, I turned on a tall reading lamp, which threw my face into partial shadow.

"Oh!" said Maggie. "I thought you were over at your own house. Where's Chris?"

"Right behind you." he said, and pushed them into the room. Then he leaned back against the closed door, arms folded. To their credit, they both looked as good as when they'd arrived at the hotel.

"What's going on guys?" asked Bethan.

"A little bird told us that you two arrived at the hotel braless. Is that right?" I said.

They could hardly deny it; standing there without a bra between them.

"Sure. It was just a bit of fun." said Maggie.

"You do that every time you go?" I persisted.

"No, this was the first time."

I let that go for now, and nodded at Chris.

"Which brings us to a rather more serious issue." he said. "We have also been informed that neither of you are wearing knickers either - that's why I'm blocking the doorway. If it's true, we don't want you running off and finding some. So Joe and I have agreed you must lift your skirts, and prove it."

We were pretty sure they were wearing them by now, albeit washed. But they would be cringing at the thought of what they looked like.

"We'll spare your blushes." I continued. "I imagine you're mortified at the thought of your bare arses being shown to another man. So Maggie can show hers to Chris." I nodded to Bethan. "And you can stand in front of me and display yours. Stay close and you'll block my view of her."

"We will not!" said Bethan. "No way!"

"Then there's a serious problem." said Chris. "Joe and I were told our wives have been dirty dancing at the sixties night. And lots of men there saw your lack of underwear. Then we were informed you were coming home in that state. That's why we came round here. We figured that if there was no truth in the rumour, you would go to Joe's as suggested. But if it was true, you would both come here, to sort your undies out. And lo! Here you are! Just do as we say, or we'll force you. It won't be difficult."

Maggie was having none of it.

"You lift my skirt and I'll divorce you!" she said.

Chris said nothing. And the silence that followed drew out like a blade. Her words, left hanging in the air, sounded ridiculous.

"Strange grounds for divorce." he said at last. "I don't want to be married to this man any more, your honour, because he wanted to see my panties. Still, you've had worse ideas."

"I just..." she began.

He leapt at her, and lifted her skirt, pulling down her panties in one swift movement. Bethan took a step towards them, and I did the same to her. They both put up a brief struggle and toppled to the floor as their underwear was removed. Chris and I stood over them, staring at the wet brown gussets.

"Our mistake; you're only braless." I said. " I think it would be pretty unusual for one of you to shit your pants. But both of you?"

"It's not shit!" said Bethan.

They both stood up as I sniffed Beth's thong.

"What I'm seeing here is panties that have been washed. But they're more or less dry at the waistband, so you've tried to rinse something off the gusset."

"Same here." agreed Chris.

"So, if it isn't shit, what is it?"

"We're not sure."

"That implies it wasn't you who put it in here."

"I... we..."

Their problem was they'd felt safer putting on washed panties, rather than come home with none. But as they believed we'd both be at my house, they hadn't prepared any kind of explanation.

"If someone thought it was a fun idea to stain your underwear, it must have been men. And you must have taken them off to give them the opportunity. Taking off your knickers means you had sex with them. Personally I don't care if you did it in a room, or on the dancefloor, but I do want to know who they were."

"I don't agree!" shouted Chris, on cue. "I don't care who they were. Your slutty outfits, lack of bras, and dirty knickers, all point to one thing. You set off to the hotel intending to fuck someone. What I want to know is two things. So tell the truth now - lies may lead to divorce - first, did you have fun at Woodlands, yes or no?"

"Yes."

"Are you having fun now?"

"No."

"Then the answer's clear. Fuck off back there!"

"Good idea." I added, and grabbed Bethan's handbag.

"Call for a taxi back to the hotel. You've enough money for a room for the night." I flourished her bag. "Of course, you may not need any if the studs you serviced are still there. Chris and I will be here at ten tomorrow morning. We realise that giving you all this time will allow you to get your stories straight, but we'll take that risk. Be warned, as Chris said, lies may lead to divorce."

They didn't like the idea, but didn't like the situation they were in either.

"Can we change our clothes?" asked Maggie.

"Certainly not." said Chris. "Those outfits were good enough last time you were there."

"And don't try sneaking into our house." I said, flourishing Bethan's keys. "It's locked up tight."

When they'd gone Chris double-locked anyway. I took the guest room.

Next morning, he said: "They obviously didn't recognise us. But think about what we told them. We heard they were braless. Someone said they were knickerless too. OK, the second one was wrong, but they'll work on the assumption there was someone spying on them. They did the dirty dancing, and went up to a room. They'd be stupid to lie now."

They were on time. Somewhere along the line they'd acquired some clean panties. I still thought they'd make up some story. The curtains were closed, so my moustache wouldn't have to stand up to close scrutiny. Chris let them in and Bethan took a deep breath and began.

"Last night, we had sex with two guys in a hotel room. And it must have been them who soiled our panties as a prank. While we were in the bathroom, they left with our bras."

"I remember Halloween." I told her. "So I'm not entirely surprised you finally strayed. There's more questions; one lie and it'll be divorce."

She nodded.

"What was his name?"

"Francois."

It was all right if she saw me smile, she'd know why.

"Did you have sex with anyone the previous week?"

A slight hesitation; she wasn't expecting that.

"No, we just flirted. Last night was the first time."

Maggie gave a slight frown. She'd either have to go along with that lie, or drop her best friend in it. I glanced at Chris, who gave a little nod. His turn.

"Your guy's name?" he asked Maggie.

"Harry."

"And did you try the threesome you've always fancied?"

"Yes, for a short time at the end."

"Anyone last week?"

"No."

It was all over bar the shouting.

"And the question that's most important to me... did you have anal sex?"

"No!"

And there was the shouting.

"I think that'll do for now. Let's go home." I said.

The rest of the weekend passed in silence. I removed the fake moustache, and Bethan asked why I'd shaved. I replied: 'Because you like the moustache.' Monday morning I called the solicitor. He couldn't see us till Wednesday. Maybe he got a lot of divorce work after the weekend. Chris and I both filed citing adultery. It wouldn't make much difference to the settlements, but gave us some satisfaction. I told Bethan and she accepted it stoically. Chris got a more hysterical response, but it died down after a couple of days.

Bethan and I agreed to a fifty/fifty split, and I told her I'd be moving out, but I didn't say where. Apparently Maggie went ballistic, but there wasn't much she could do. None of us had children, so Maggie saw sense at last and agreed how everything would be split. Chris and I were ready to go; the business purchase was complete. We packed our stuff into two cars, plus the trailer. All four of us were at my house, as we were about to leave. I'd spotted a bottle of wine in the fridge and guessed they were going to console themselves. We faced each other, outside the front door.

"Before you leave, there's something we both deserve to know." said Bethan.

"Go on."

"You implied we might get past this if we told the truth. We did, but now you're divorcing us anyway. We'd like to know why."

"You did lie." I replied. "Remember you swore that was only time? Well, the previous week, someone overheard you. Your guy said you were the best fuck he'd ever had, and could they see you again. I believe you said no, let someone else have a turn."

She went white.

Maggie must have felt on safer ground. Someone might report what they'd heard in the hotel foyer, but nobody could possibly know what was done in the room.

"And what was my lie?" she asked him.

Chris smiled. As rehearsed, we produced their bras with a flourish, dangled them, and dropped them on the ground.

"Ah, belle!" he said. "I see a tighter derrière!"