The Thrill Of It All Ch. 03

Copyright © July 2022 by CiaoSteve

CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work. This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.

This is a work of fiction. All sexually active characters in this story are over 18. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Author's Notes

This is a third part to the series. Although it is self-contained from a story perspective, I would recommend you read the earlier chapters as there will be references which make more sense if you have read from the start.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Nothing more was said about either fantasy.

Life went back to normal, and any thoughts of a threesome became just that... thoughts, with no intention of being taken any further. John didn't bring the topic up again, and Roberta thought better of delving deeper into her own fantasies. She hadn't forgotten. It was just... well... there was plenty of excitement in their marriage without needing anyone else.

There was one thing though which stuck in Roberta's mind, and that was the comment John had made about Diana being beautiful. Over the days since that first encounter in the toilets, Roberta had developed an unhealthy habit of eying up the young receptionist. It wasn't that she wanted Diana, nor that she had developed an interest in other women. It was just... well... Roberta wanted an answer to a simple question.

What did the young thing have that Roberta didn't?

In her mind, all the questions were asked, then countered. Diana had youth. Roberta had experience. Diana had the good looks, albeit in Roberta's mind they had to have been artificially created good looks. Roberta was just that... Roberta... one hundred per cent natural Roberta. Okay, so she had gone for highlights from time to time, but what you got with Roberta was the real her.

What was it then? Was it the oversized tits, dominating the young receptionist's body? Was that what John found beautiful? They looked about as natural as her peroxide blonde locks. To be honest, Roberta preferred her own curves, her in proportion curves. So that left just one thing. If you set the tits to one side, then Diana was attractively slim. Was that it? Was that why John had called her beautiful? Was it a hint that he wanted Roberta to lose those added pounds that years of married life, and yes probably a few too many cakes, had contributed to?

Roberta kept considering the same question. Was she too big? Would he love her even more if she toned up a little? There was only one way to find out, and that was to ask. The question though was who to ask. Could she really ask John, and would he give her an honest answer anyway? He may have been direct, even commanding, but he never said anything to hurt Roberta. So, would he be transparent in his response?

Imagine Roberta's surprise when an opportunity came out of the blue, from the young woman herself. Once again it was a chance meeting in the rest rooms which had led to the opportunity.

"Hey Roberta," came a now familiar voice.

"Oh... Hi Diana. How are you?" Roberta responded, smiling. Unlike the last time, Roberta was much more comfortable to make some idle conversation.

"I'm great," Diana replied. "What about you? Dare I ask... was he worth it?"

At first Roberta was a bit taken aback with the directness of the question. It took her a few seconds to realise that it was nothing more than the enthusiasm of youth. Diana didn't mean anything other than to appear interested, did she?

"Worth it?" Roberta responded. "Oh god, yeah. John took me to an Italian place, somewhere out of town. It was wonderful. And you? You must have a boyfriend? Does he take you places?"

For a moment there was silence.

Had Roberta said the wrong thing in asking how Diana was? Or was it that she had mentioned John? Or even that she had mentioned the boyfriend? Did the young secretary really have her eyes on John? Was that why she had been watching that afternoon?

"Girlfriend," Diana corrected. "And, yes, we had a good weekend. Maybe not on a par with yours, but it was fun."

Roberta almost blushed. Immediately she wondered if Diana's definition of fun was the same as her own, and as she did so, her mind flooded with recollections of what had become of her in the posh Italian restaurant. Oh yes, Roberta had fun all right.

"Did you see John? I saw you on the office steps when he picked me up," Roberta asked.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snoop," Diana apologised. "I was just... well... you seemed so... what's the word... content... happy... excited... and I was just intrigued to know who this special guy was to have you dressing up like a million doll—"

"It's fine," Roberta interrupted, "no need to explain."

There was a pause before Roberta added. "So, what did you think of him? You certainly made an impression. He wanted to know all about the beautiful young woman standing in the office doorway."

Diana blushed.

"I'm sorry," Roberta commented. "I'm teasing you... but you are beautiful you know... and young... not an oldie like me... and I hope your girlfriend appreciates that."

"Er... sure... she does," Diana responded. "And... you... you are attractive too."

"I guess... in a different sort of way," Roberta replied, at the same time running her eyes up and down Diana's petite figure. "Wouldn't harm though if I lost a few pounds, would it?"

There was an uncomfortable silence, broken only by a smile then a laugh from first Roberta and then Diana. With the atmosphere back to a level of joviality, the two women headed out of the rest rooms and back to work.

"Catch you later," Roberta said as she reached her office.

"Sure thing," Diana replied, before adding in a whisper, "and I'd die for hips like yours."

Roberta just stood and watched as the young receptionist headed back towards her desk. There was nothing wrong with Diana's figure. She was a most attractive woman, and seemingly a most approachable woman to boot. Okay, so you needed to look beyond the peroxide blonde locks and overly large breasts to see the true Diana, but it was there if you scraped through the veneer.

Roberta was happy that evening when she left for home. It might only have been a few minutes conversation, but she had learned so much, and had put some of her doubts to bed.

Did Diana have the hots for John? Was she on the lookout for a man? With a girlfriend in tow, then the answer was a resounding no.

Did Diana think Roberta was fat? Well, she didn't say as much as no, but the inference was in that direction, and Roberta was happy to go by inference.

That said, Diana was still on Roberta's mind as she took the train back home. It wasn't so much the image of the young woman which consumed Roberta's thoughts, but more around what the young thing might get up to in private, with her girlfriend.

Roberta had plenty of fun with John.

What sort of fun did Diana get up to?

Roberta's imagination was short lived as a tell-tale beep from her mobile broke her train of thought. She rummaged in her bag, at the same time conscious that she wasn't so far away from her destination. As she glanced at the screen, her heart skipped a beat. It wasn't so much the sender which had gotten her all excited—the message was from her darling husband, after all—but what he said, what he was suggesting, or more to the point what he was ordering. There was a simple picture of a kitchen table, and underneath were the words...

'Blindfolded... bound... all holes filled... and cumming so hard... excited?'

Excited? Did he really need to ask if she was excited? Roberta was so turned on by what he was saying. Those very words pandered to her inner slut. He'd done the blindfolded bit before. He'd even tied her up before. For sure, he had made plenty of use of all her holes, and she had fully enjoyed letting him take her.

So, what was different? Roberta could do nothing but stare at the message. There was something in what he had written... something which led her to a question of her own. What exactly did John mean when he said all holes filled? What did he have in mind? Thoughts came back of her fantasy, the one she had told him about, the one she had now put to the back of her mind. Surely not. He wouldn't do that without talking about it first, would he? Even then, it wasn't all her holes, was it?

Roberta was still contemplating the same, when the train drew up to a halt at her station and she set off on the short walk home.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

By the time Saturday came, Roberta was on edge. She had thought about nothing more than that message but hadn't dared to ask. Orders were orders, and exciting orders were... well, they were always the best. There were some though, and this was one, which took her out of her comfort zone... which took her to the unknown... which had her wondering.

Roberta lay there in bed, in the same naked state she had climbed on top of John the night before and ridden his humungous cock, in the same naked state she had fallen asleep with the warmth of his creamy seed filling her pussy.

When she woke, Roberta was scared, scared yet excited in equal measures. It was no different to those other first times, and there were many... her first deepthroat... her first spanking... her first time in the ass... her first time tied to the bed... her first... god, this was like all of them put together. How the hell was he going to fill all her holes, and was he really going to get somebody else involved? Who would it be?

"You gonna stay in bed all day?" came a shout from downstairs.

Roberta glanced at the clock. It was almost ten, so John had a point.

"Let me grab a quick shower. I'll be down soon," Roberta answered.

"No worries. I sorted you out some clothes and left them on the window seat," John responded. "Oh... and make sure to clean inside as well as out."

Window seat? It was her favourite spot to sit and watch the world go by, usually with a good book and a steaming mug of cocoa. Now though... now she was stark naked, the curtains were well and truly open, and it was broad daylight. Would he mind if she grabbed something different and snuck away into the shower? She could always change later, couldn't she? But then orders were orders, and disobeying them came with punishments, as her ass knew all too well.

Roberta sat up in bed. She could hear the hubbub of daily life somewhere outside, and as she did, the thrill of excitement started to fill her mind. Roberta stood up, at first wrapping the duvet around her naked frame. She peered towards the window. For sure there were voices somewhere outside, but Roberta couldn't see anyone from where she was standing.

There was only one thing for it. She knew what John wanted by placing her clothes in front of the window. With her pulse racing, Roberta dropped the duvet. Tentatively at first, she took a few steps closer. It seemed quiet outside, so Roberta took her chance. With the stealth and speed of a pouncing tiger, she rushed forward and took hold of the bundle of clothes.

But, instead of sinking back into the shadows, Roberta found herself staring out of the window. She stood there, naked, her full breasts sagging slightly, only a clenched bundle of clothes covering her shaven mound. She glanced first one way, then the other, down the street below. She had gotten away with it. Here she was, a middle-aged wife, standing on full view in her bedroom window with not a care in the world. Bar for a young couple heading away from her—Roberta assumed it must have been their voices she had heard earlier—the street was now empty.

Time seemed to stand still. Roberta just stood and watched, seemingly oblivious to her state of undress. A dog ran across the street and off towards a patch of trees. An older man came out of the newsagent at the end of the road and, head down in his paper, walked right past the front of the house. Here she was, stark naked for all to see, yet noticed by nobody.

She heard a door, somewhere close by, open and close. It was the neighbours, predictably for a Saturday morning, heading off to the shops. Should she move away from the window? What if they had forgotten something? What if they turned around and glanced in Roberta's direction? Roberta held her breath—she wasn't sure why she held her breath, but it seemed the right thing to do—but didn't pull back. The couple, oblivious to the scene upstairs, simply headed off into the distance.

Finally, it was a call from downstairs, which broke Roberta out of her gaze.

"You ready yet?" John called. "Or... shall we go as you are?"

'Shit!' Roberta thought to herself, knowing just how serious John could be.

It was one thing to stand naked in an open window, watching the world go by, but it would have been something quite different to walk down the street in a similar state of undress having the world watch her go by. That said, the thought had crossed her mind on more than one occasion, but not here, and definitely not right on her doorstep. There was something refreshing, revitalising, invigorating, at the thought of running free... through long grass... across a sandy beach... into the chill of the lapping waves.

One day, Roberta told herself. One day she would seed the idea in the mind of her husband. Maybe that could be another fantasy. For now, she had orders to follow. She wasn't sure why but, picking up her anal douche, she knew what was expected of her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Just over an hour later, Roberta was following her husband through the town centre. It was busy, as it always was on a Saturday, but soon the crowds started to thin as they headed away from the main shopping streets.

"Where are we going?" Roberta asked.

"Oh... you'll see," John replied non-committedly.

"Well... is it far?" came a second question.

Roberta didn't have a clue where they were heading. All she knew is that she stood out like a sore thumb. She didn't need to look around, to know that heads were turning, eyes following her every step.

It was hardly surprising given the outfit her darling husband had chosen for her. The push up red lace bra exaggerated what was already a full bust, melding Roberta's sightly saggy mounds into firmly pronounced melons. A low-cut black top barely covered the bright red bra and did nothing to hide the resulting deep valley of cleavage. Then there were the heels—a full three inches, more suitable for the dance floor than walking up what was now a steep cobbled hill—which gave a most wonderful shape to opaque-black stay-up clad legs, the soft nylon running all the way up until her plentiful thighs disappeared under the hem of a spotted flared mini skirt.

Oh yes, he had chosen an outfit which would make heads turn, but Roberta knew it was something more than the outfit alone that was catching attention. It wasn't so much what she was wearing which had them looking, but more so what happened each time a gust of wind took hold. The skirt might have been mini in length but, it was full, it was thin, and it was very easily caught by the slightest breeze.

At first, she'd tried to cover up, to hold the folds of her skirt down around her legs, but before long, and with yet another command from her darling husband, Roberta didn't make any effort. What did it matter if she gave them an eyeful of bare thigh where stay ups came to an end? What did it matter if she flashed a glimpse of bright-red lace, the narrow gusset of French knickers disappearing down between her plump ass cheeks?

All that mattered was that Roberta kept up with her husband. John had a sense of purpose in his stride. He was marching ahead, turning from one street to another, with Roberta trying her best to follow. Finally, they came to a halt in front of a small row of shops.

"We're here," John announced.

Roberta wasn't listening. She was simply staring at the view in front of her. Standing back behind a full layby of cars, stood a row of half a dozen outlets. There was a newsagent, a butcher, a barbershop, and a couple of takeaways. It was none of these though which had grabbed Roberta's attention. She was staring at the final store in the row.

What had caught her eye? Was it that this one was twice the size of the others? Yes, it did stand out because of its size, but that wasn't what she was looking at. It wasn't the attractively laid out window displays either, in fact there were no displays to be seen. What took Roberta's eye was the single large sign running above window height for the length of the building's front. In white on a blue background were silhouettes of a man and a woman, standing close together, along with two simple words... private and shop. Roberta didn't need a window display to know just what was being purveyed inside.

Slowly Roberta looked at John, back at the shop, then back towards her husband.

John smiled, nodded his head, then set off across the road.

For a moment, Roberta stood there and watched her husband stride confidently towards the adult store. Oh, she wasn't so naïve to think that they didn't exist, but she had never been inside one, nor had the inkling to do so. John though, well he seemed quite at home. As she watched John near the other side of the road, Roberta did start to wonder. Where did the collection of sex toys at home come from? She had imagined off the net, but if truth be known they hadn't had many parcels delivered. Had john been here before... to this very store? Was this where he had purchased—

"You coming?" John called out as he started to open the door to that very shop.

Roberta took a deep breath. She loved being a closet slut, but there was something different about keeping it secret to the world, as against proudly proclaiming the same for all to see. She knew she had no choice but to obey, but even so, Roberta had a good look up and down the street before making a move.

Roberta followed her husband inside, letting the door close behind her. She had no idea what to expect of such a seedy place, but it was no different to anywhere else. Okay, so the goods themselves were most specific, but it was a shop just like any other, a store full of row after row of sex toys, as far as the eye could see.

No sooner were they inside than Roberta was glancing around, checking whether they were alone or not. They weren't. A middle-aged man was already paying for something. Another was busying himself with a selection of sexy underwear. Then there was a couple of younger women, giggling away to each other as they slowly wandered down one of the aisles. Roberta and John were not alone, but the store wasn't exactly busy either, and what customers there were seemed interested in their own shopping and nothing more.

The place wasn't at all as seedy as Roberta had imagined, and she soon found herself paying more attention to what it sold rather than what it was. Outside, other than the obvious name, there was nothing to suggest the delights within. Once inside though, little was left to the imagination. Roberta was already running her eyes across the display of vibrators immediately in front of them, glancing at the plethora of styles and sizes, her eyes drawn to word after word... mighty... thick... long... powerful... intense... extreme... everywhere she looked, her mind filled with the thrill of excitement. She glanced up at the signage hanging from the ceiling, wondering what other delights were hidden out of sight.

One sign, in the clothing section, grabbed Roberta's attention... one five letter word... latex. Immediately her mind went back to those tight stretchy trousers, the ones which clung like a second skin, accentuating every sensual curve.