The Works Do
Introduction:
My wife enjoys and eveing out
“It’s staff only.”
“But it’s only at the Manor pub” I protested.
My wife looked at me. “No kids. And we have no-one else to look after them.”
I returned the look. “OK, how are you going to get there?”
“I’ll drive there and leave my car at Pat’s and then come and you can get me around 11 or 11:30. We can pick up my car in the morning.”
“I liked it better when you only drank diet coke.”
“It’s still only diet coke.”
“Yes, but with rather a load of vodka in it.” Though lately she was using whisky
Our eldest 2 had grown and flown the nest but we now had a 13 year old and a 4 year old. Don’t ask. Accidents happen. I looked at her again. What I saw was an overweight, extremely overweight female of 40 only 5’ 2” and still with the biggest pair of tits of any woman I had known.
I held up my hands. “OK, OK. So when exactly is this do?”
“Friday week, and I need something new to wear.” I knew what that meant. Saturday I would have to spend one of my days off following her round Merry Hill in the forlorn hope of finding something that fitted her and that she liked. Usually an impossible task. Well, maybe not impossible but extremely difficult.
So we did. And, miracle of miracles, she found a new dress in the space of one hour. I gave thanks to the great God of Outsize, Evans for that and we went for a cup of coffee.
“So, you’re all set.”
She shook her head. “Nope. New underwear, especially a new bra.”
I was going to suggest a scaffolding company that I knew of but thought better of it. Did not want to puncture her air of euphoria. One bra, two pairs of knickers, a suspender belt and a couple of pairs of stockings later we were back in the car and headed home.
“You haven’t worn stockings for years. Why now?”
“Just fancied them. It feels good and the weather is going to be warm so I don’t want to be trussed up in tights.”
“So why wear them at all?”
No answer, just that look again. Was not going to be said but we both knew that she really did not have the best pair of legs to show off.
On the eve of the do, in common with all females that I have known or read about, she spent and enormous amount of time getting ready. Eventually she wobbled down the stairs perched on the highest heels I had seen her wear in years. Another new purchase.
“Are you sure about those?” I asked “You’re not going to be able to walk far in them.”
“Or drive.” I added. “And you have a tendency to break the heels on shoes.”
She looked at me with disdain, fluttering her newly mascaraed eyelashes and pursing her freshly painted lips. “Well. Firstly I don’t have far to walk. And secondly I’ve decided you can drop me off.”
I bent my head to kiss her. She backed off her head. “Don’t, you’ll smudge my lipstick. Come on, I need to go.”
As we all got in the car I took a look at her. Obese as she was, she was extremely pretty. Many years ago she managed to lose a load of weight. She looked stunning. I remember the impact she had on my best friend who was also best man at our wedding. He had girlfriend troubles for a while and we did not see him for some months. Then he turned up with a new girl in tow – whom he eventually married on an evening when we were off out. His jaw dropped , literally.
Problem is, it lasted less than 12 months. She got pregnant with our 3rd and before he was born she weighed over 2 stone. 13 years later she had lost a good proportion of that but I knew she’d never see size 12 again.
“Am I dropping you off at the pub?”
“No, take me to Pat’s. John will take us on to the Manor.” When we drew up outside Pat’s house, she leaned over, kissed me lightly on the lips, admonished the kids to behave (why?) then got out of the car. She leaned in, “about 11:30?”
“Be ready. I ‘m going to have to leave the kids in bed so I don’t want to be out long.”
She nodded OK” turned and she walked up the path, the door opening to admit her as she did. She waved to us from the threshold and disappeared inside.
At home the kids watched TV whilst I prepared a meal. Neil disappeared for several hours to meet friends whelst Victoria an I finished out the evening in front of the box. Then I washed her, dressed her in her nightclothes and took her to bed. During the 3rd chapter of The Magic Faraway Tree I heard Neil come in and the TV come on. I finished chapter. “No more,” I said in response to her protests, you’ve had 3, “it’s time to go to sleep”. I kissed her forehead and went downstairs.
I have no idea what Neil was watching but fortunately, I had a good book to read. At 10:30, despite his protests I sent him up to bed. I wanted both of them asleep before I went out to collect Sue. I left it till just before 11, checked to make sure they were both asleep and then drove the 3 miles to collect my wife.
In those days it was coming close to 11:30 and that was after time. The pub was still heaving with little sign of the party breaking up. I could not find Sue. Pat was there and I asked her Sue’s whereabouts.
“Probably in the loo.” And she disappeared in the direction of the toilets. Minutes later Sue appeared. She was drunk. Not falling down drunk, glazed eyes drunk. Slightly slurred speech drunk.
She took my arm and steered me outside. “Go get you handbag and say your goodbyes.”
“No.” she said, shaking her head.
“Look, I’ve left the kids alone in the house and we need to get back to them.”
“I’m not coming. You go home I find my way back later.” There was in intense look in her eyes.
“You’ve had enough and that lipstick you were so worried about earlier is smudged. We need to go home.”
We argued and time was wasting. “Call me, no matter what time and I’ll come and get you.”
“Ok, ok,” she said, “I’ll give you a call
I left. Wasn’t too happy about it but frankly was more concerned about the kids than anything else. Having been gone 15 minutes I checked both them, made a coffee and curled up on the sofa to continue reading. I watched the clock creep round, finished one book and started on another.
It was just gone 2 when the phone rang, giggles on the other end of the line.
I sighed. “Tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you.”
“No,” she replied, “go to bed, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Are you going to be fucked?” I asked.
“Mmm,” she purred.
“Who?” I asked
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
“No, he can fuck you and then you can ring me and I’ll come and get you.”
“I’ll be home in the morning.” She hung up
This was in the early 90s. Digital dialling was a thing of the future so I was not able to use ring back. I stared at the phone. Not much I could do. I had no idea where she was and no way to find out. Even if I went to Pat’s – I was sure she was in on the plot – I knew she would not tell me or would protest innocence, so I went to bed.
Sleep evaded me. It seemed like I was awake all night listening for a key to be turned in the lock. Not true I know, it just always seems that way. However, I was awake when it started to get light and heard a car pull up outside. A car door opened and a second or two later I heard it slam closed and the car drove off.
I heard the front door open and laboured footsteps up the stairs. She came into the bedroom and started removing her clothes. All she was wearing was a bra and dress, no panties, no suspender belt. Not stockings. I could see the sticky shine of semen in her pubic hair and inside her thighs
Why couldn’t you come home last night?”
“I was in Stourbridge.” She began as she climbed in beside me. ”Jen and I started to walk home and a guy picked us up. We dropped her off at home and he began to bring me home. But he stopped and we kissed. I thought he was going to fuck me in the car, but he stopped and asked if I wanted to go home with him. So we did.”
To this day she sticks to that story. It was complete bollocks. It was much later that I realised it was one of the guys from work she went home with, probably the foreman. She worked as a machinist and, as you can imagine, the women outnumbered the men by a huge margin. I still suspect that was the plan from the outset and is why she did not want me there.
We always had an open relationship. I was happy for her to fuck outside with a few conditions. Not my friends and none of our friends or acquaintances and that would account for the secrecy.
I had also developed a fetish. I found I loved the taste of semen left in her cunt mixed with her sex juices.
She opened her legs and pushed my head under the duvet. “He came in me twice last night and we when we got up this morning, he undressed me and we did it again about 20 minutes ago. So there’s a nice fresh load in there.”
I moved my head down and, as I approached her cunt the smell of a fresh fucked cunt assailed my nostrils. I had never smelled it so strong. I cleaned her mons and the inside of her thighs of still sticky and pungent semen mixed with her cunt juices as it had run out of her. I guessed that was why she left off her knickers so the semen was on her body and not her panties.
“I need to pee.” She whispered. So I pulled apart her cunt, used my tongue to find her urethra and clamped my lips over it. Then, to let her know I was ready, I sucked gently on it. A small stream of urine began to issue from her piss hole and, as I sucked harder, she peed harder to keep up drinking the salty liquid which was sweet because she has been drinking artificially sweetened drinks and was astringent with the flavour of whisky.
The flow stemmed and I then pushed my tongue into her cunt to mop up any the semen that was clinging to the walls of her cunt. She had my cock in her hand and it had grown to full stiffness. I was more than ready to fill her with my cum.
A heard the door to the bedroom open and a small voice ask “Where’s daddy?”
“Not far,” Sue replied. You go downstairs and I’ll be with you in a tick.
When Victoria had left the room she waggled my cock and said, “We’ll save this for later.” Let go of my cock, got out of the bed, put on her dressing gown and left. So I’m left with a raging hard-on after my wife had had her sexual demands met. So much for equality.
I dozed off to catch up on lost sleep until I was awoken by her bringing me a cup of tea.
“You coming to bed?”
“Don’t be daft. Victoria is downstairs and it’s time for breakfast. Later.”
I lowered my voice. “But you won’t have a fucked fanny then, will you.”
She just grinned and left the room.