Now there are some husbands that fly off the handle at the merest threat of his wife being admired by another man. Then there are those that remain silent and bottle up the rage but take it out on her later in private, usually accompanied by violence. And then there are those, disparagingly pigeonholed as wimps or cucks, that actually enjoy seeing their beloved eyed up by strangers, and possibly more. Who is right? Well here’s my story, you decide.

I met my second wife when she was still at school, a decade or so ago now. Kelly was sweet sixteen back then, an A-Level student, and I was her English tutor. Since I was appily married at the time, the gangly and unprepossessing schoolgirl barely warranted a second look. Though she would later confess that she wanted me from the moment our eyes first met across a row of desk,s and would frig herself to sleep thinking of me. A term passed and, as we grew as a class, I began to grow apart from my first wife.

Funny how things change so quickly, within a year the love had all but gone from our marriage and I’d srarted to notice how this particular girl in my English lesson blushed profusely whenever I addressed her. A year older now, she’d blossomed into something of a beauty, symmetrical jet coloured hair framing a classically pretty heart-shaped face. Yet I thought nothing of it, I was forty-five after all and she a mere seventeen.

Staying behind last after class one day, Kelly shuffled uncomfortably on the spot as if she desperately needed the toilet. With my warmest smile I addressed her, asking if things were okay and complimenting her last essay though in truth it was decidely average. After some effort of will, the embarrassed looking schoolgirl disclosed that she’d been let down by a girlfriend and found herself with a spare ticket for the theatre that night, an amateur production of a book we were studying on her course. “Would you, um, care to join me, sir?” she enquired, cheeks flushing like a bruise.

I smiled and graciously accepted the invitation. The play turned out to be nothing special, but then I quickly realised it was a means to end. This sexy young teenager, I soon discovered, had a huge crush on me, a man twenty-eight years her senior.

Things raced on from there but, for the sake of my career and her future, we agreed nothing should happen until she’d finished school. By that time, she’d be eighteen and contemplating university no doubt. Unfortunately, despite my close tutelage and personal attention, Kelly’s grades fell a good way short of paving the way to higher education, but no matter because we were in love. After a whirlwind romance and divorce, we married just before her nineteenth birthday, amid inevitable sighs of disapproval from both sides of the family tree.

For the first six months I was just about able to keep up with her voracious sexual appetite: five times a night was well within Kelly’s capability and desire, and rarely did she show signs of lagging. It was every man with fifty in his sight’s dream. Yet, as time passed, sadly I defaulted back to the twice a week drudgery of my first marriage, using the same old excuses the first Mrs Miller used to contain me. Kelly, of course, was good about it, never once complaining or putting me under undue pressure, but I could tell she craved more, which is where my story really begins.

Our neighbours, funnily enogh the Joneses, were having the front of their house rendered. I’d noticed how their builder, a rough, tough Irishman whose brawn far outweighed his brain, looked at Kelly. My sweet young wife acted the innocent, but I knew. Well I was nothing if not the open sort and, to be perfectly honest, secretly the premise thrilled me to bits, so much so that I was moved to confront her once evening. “Look, it’s all right,” I conceded, “just as long as you promise me three things.”

Kelly protested, maintaining that she only wanted me, though when she asked what those three conditions were, I knew.

“Okay,” I revealed. “Make sure you use protection, promise me please not to fall in love and…and tell me all about it when I get home from school. Every detail.”

There was a glint in my eye and a bulge in my pants, the likes of which we hadn’t seen in a long time. Kelly nodded understandingly if unsurely. “But how do I…?” she enquired with a patented wide-eyed look of innocence and trying desperately not to sound too enthusiastic.

“Oh, use your imagination,” I teased, surprising myself with just how excited the idea was making me. “Tell him you’ve tickets for the theatre.”

Kelly smiled, recalling the guile with which she’d first ensnared me. I could almost hear the cogs turning in her simple little brain. “Mmm I know,” she grinned, evidently getting into the idea with as equal enthusiasm as her aroused hubby. “Maybe I’ll put on my little hotpants and my halter top and go wash the car.”

“Perfect,” I groaned, under my breath.

Sadly by bedtime the stiffy had abandoned me and we spent another night just cuddling up. Kelly didn’t seem to mind, her thoughts doubtless occupied with thick Irish cock.

Ironically, I left the house the following morning with the biggest, hardest erection of my whole entire life. It was painful walking to school, my briefcase strategically placed to avoid embarrassment. Classes were a blur, and I wasn’t hanging around one single moment after the final bell. Passing the florist’s, I availed myself of the biggest bunch of flowers on display. The car in the driveway was as I expected: spotlessly clean at the back, grubby still at the front, the remnants of a bucket of suds and sponge close by. And little progress appeared to have been made on our neighbour’s rendering. Oh I could hardly wait to get inside the house and hear of Kelly’s adventures.

My darling wife opened the door before I even had the key in. Fresh from the shower, she was flushed from the hot water and whatever frenzied activity had preceded it. We exchanged awkward glances before she hooked her arms around my neck and pressed her soft lips to mine. Her kisses were tender and loving. When we broke, I stated breathlessly: “I want every single detail, everything, don’t you dare leave out a thing.”

Kelly pursed her pretty lips, taking my clammy hand and leading me up to the bedroom, where I was helped me out of my shirt and trousers. We rolled onto the bed, Kelly’s head sliding beneath my arm, to rest below a shoulder, innocent-looking eyes locking on mine, full of devotion. The towel cast aside, her naked body was a picture of young beauty, breasts firm, nipples like puppies’ noses, pussy lips plump and glistening. Reaching down, her slender fingers toyed with the fly of my boxers, releasing the semi-hard cock. “Mmm,” she sighed wistfully, both our breaths racing with anticipation. “I’ve been a bad girl today,” she confessed with a little-girl pout, the shaft inflating instantly in her grip.

I gasped unashamedly as Kelly drew back the foreskin lovingly. “So did you wear the hotpants and halter?”

She glanced away and I coudn’t be sure if it was part of the act or in genuine embarrassment.

“Yes,” she added, eyes still distant and seemingly guilt-ridden. “I felt like a total slut, honey. No bra, no panties…”

“Oh Goddddddd,” I moaned as her words filled my ears like a symphony and she toyed expertly with a penis that was 99% of the way there.

“The dirty bugger almost fell off his platform when he saw mecome out. I started at the back of the car, bending over right beneath him, my tight little arse sticking up in the air as I scrubbed the tailgate.”

“Oh fuck,” I mouthed, front teeth buried in my bottom lip so hard it was close to splitting.

Kelly’s hand made long slow strokes of my manhood as she continued with the lurid disclosure. “I was so turned on I swear I almost had an orgasm just from the crotch of the hotpants rubbing against my pussy. It was worth waxing,” she revealed with a salacious grin, tiny hand masturbating me oh-so-gently. “I wiggled my little bottie in his direction, knowing full well he was watching my every move. I could almost feel his hot breath on the back of my neck. I stood up and wiped the sweat from my forehead – it was hard work.”

“Oh I bet it was for our builder friend too. Very hard.”

“Mmm, it was. I stole a glance over my shoulder and could see the bulge straining at his blue dungarees.”

“Did he look big?”

“Mmm, yes he did,” she replied, pulling the sort face a five-year iold might make. “He hurt me he did, honey.”

I empathised with her, though the thought of the huge brute making her whimper was a massive turn on. Reaching between a pair of legs that parted automatically, my roving index finger traced a line from bottom to top of the silken slit. Wow, her pussy did indeed look and feel like it had received a severe butchering, tenderised by hard thick Irish cock. Kelly sucked in air as the digit worked inside, parting each moist pink fold. Massaging her swollen clit with my thumb, I prompted her to continue.

“Well it was then I had a little accident,” she disclosed. “As I raised the sponge, soapy water splashed all over my titties. They stuck firmly to the halter, my nipples pressing really hard against the wet cotton – as hard as they are now.”

I cast a glance across. Her excited nipples were half an inch long and bloated as if sore. There were distinct scratches on the flesh of each orb, doubtless induced by stubble scoring the soft flesh. Kelly angled so that the left teat brushed my lips. Parting, I took it inside, suckling long and hard, causing her to moan and press down harder upon my embedded finger. As I circled her clit and gave her a good fingering, she moaned appreciatively, the pair of us as aroused like never before.

Kelly’s breath was racing as she imparted the tale with relish. “I stood up straight with the wet top clinging to my boobs and started to fan my chest. He just watched, as blatant as you like, eyes burning into me. I smiled and he climbed off the platform slowly, over the fence and into our front garden. I couldn’t believe the cheek of the man. Without saying anything he pushed me up against the tailgate and stuck his rough hands inside my top. My nipples were burning. His tongue was in my mouth in seconds. My legs were up in the air around his waist I was so hot I wanted him to fuck me over the bonnet…”

“Oh honey, did he? Did the filthy animal fuck you in broad daylight?”

Kelly grinned as a dollop of precum oozed from the eye of my cock tip under her gentle ministrations. “No,” she frowned. “The postman was just over the road. The builder told me I was a very naughty girl and how naufghty girls need to be punished. When I asked what he meant, he said I needed to be spanked. Before I knew it we were in the living room and I was spread across his knee like a bad little schoolgirl, hotpants down by my ankles and so helpless. I just held my breath in anticipation, my body trembling. God, how he made me wait, lifting his hand ever so gradually. I almost cried out. Then he just spanked me repeatedly and called me all sorts of names…”

“Mmmmmmm, like what?”

“He called me…he called me a dirty little slut, HIS dirty little slut. Said I’d been teasing him for weeks and that I was going to get what a dirty little slut deserved. He told me that he was going to ruin me for other men.”

She jerked my cock a bit faster as my fingertip found her ravaged clit once more. “His calloused fingers strayed under and started to pinch my nipples, twisting them hard till I cried out. He was so rough with me, honey. He ordered me to tell him how I should be treated.”

“Oh? And what did you reply?” I mouthed.

“I told him I should be treated like a filthy little slut. He said yes I should be, that I was the filthiest slut he’d ever met. Then he asked what I wanted.”

Our eyes met and she blushed. I indicated for her to continue, cock throbbing in her delicate palm. “I said I wanted his nice big cock inside me,” she revealed. “He told me to get on my hands and knees on the carpet, to wiggle my sweet little arse and to beg for it. He could see how worked up I was.”

“Oh fuck, honey, yes.”

Without prompting, Kelly cocked her leg over, mounting my rock hard cock. as she faced me It slipped easily into her wet cunt, burying straight to the balls. It was like entering a silken glove. Kelly gasped, a mix of pain and pleasure in that well-fucked pussy. That builder must really have given it to her hard. Reaching up, I cupped her perfectly spherical breasts, bruised as well as scratched, I noticed, in a dotted pattern around the aureolae where doubtless the builder had pawed her roughly. In comparison, I squeezed tenderly, lovingly as she gyrated on my eager cock, her nipples engorged. “Keep talking,” I prompted, my breath staccato. “Tell me how he fucked you.”

“Brutally,” she groaned, “his cock was like a length of long hard piping. He just put his rough hands on my buttocks, prised them apart then slammed deep in my pussy from behind. Lucky I was so wet or he’d have hurt me even more. He just thrust in and out, calling me a filthy little tramp, a whore, a slut and every so often spanking my arse.”

Beneath her, my heightened upward thrusts met her eager downward motions, cock slamming deep into her cervix as we built a wonderful momentum. I’d never been so turned on my life or as good as this. It was hit or miss whether Kelly came during our lovemaking but at that moment she was juicing all over my belly and matting the pubic hair over my balls. “Tell me Kelly, did he also fuck you up the arse?”

My young wife hesitated which suggested my hunch was right. Much as I’d craved to, I’d never gotten hard enough to take her tightest hole. Rocking forward, she let my stiff cock exit her wet cunt and press at her anal ring. The entrance was a doddle, her tunnel descending to envelop the shaft. Either I was harder than ever before or that builder had taken her up the arse all right, squeezed the hole open. As I punctured the sphincter and buried the whole length, Kelly reached to press two fingers in her neglected cunt, moaning intensely. “What else did he make you do?” I entreated as she rode my shaft anally.

“To finish off, he slipped off the condom and pushed me on my back whilst he masturbated over me. The first wad hit my tits. It splashed everywhere and he ordered me to rub it in. I did as he said to keep him happy. Then he pumped another load in my face before forcing me to suck his cock clean. I could barely fit it in my tiny little mouth. He was such a brute, honey. I told him to get out and leave me alone and never come back.”

“And did he?”

She hesitated, our lovemaking reaching a pause, her soaking wet pussy leaking on my belly as she balanced precariously, head back, tits pushed out. “Did he, Kelly?” I prompted.

She looked shamefaced. “He came back twice more in the afternoon. He was so strong, honey. I was powerless to resist.”

Suddenly I flipped her over onto her back, legs akimbo. Climbing into place, I shadowed her body completely. With all my might I thrust deep back inside her cunt, buttocks pumping. “You are a dirty little slut, aren’t you, Kelly?” I whispered in her ear, before sucking at her soft neck.

“Yesssssss I am,” she moaned as I grunted, the pair of us welded together at the midriff.

In and out I thrust, gathering momentum and getting ever closer as Kelly’s fingernails raked at my shoulders. One hard pump and a gutteral groan and I unloaded wave after wave of cum into her womb. Feeling my cum wash around inside her, Kelly’s own orgasm followed shortly thereafter, as intense a climax as ever I’d known her to have. She screamed in pure ecstasy, our bodies melting.

After a minute of breath-gathering as we lay entwined on top of the bed, she confessed: “But he didn’t make me cum like you just did.”

I smiled. I loved her dearly, passionately. And I’m sure she felt the same.