Staring out aimlessly through the passenger window she’d been silent for some time. His concerns were growing. She couldn’t be getting cold feet could she? Surely – Not now?
But his worries were short lived. Finally she broke her silence.
“So, Timothy.” She asked him quietly. “How many men are you expecting me to have sex with tonight ?” He checked in his rear view mirror, indicated and overtook a slower moving vehicle.
“Just the one.”
“Only one?” She replied, sounding surprised, but relief in her voice clearly evident.
“There are some photo’s in my bag on the back seat. That is, if you want to look.”
She sat quietly for a few moments, back within her own thoughts. Then curiosity seemingly getting the better of her, deciding to take a look, in an attempt to reach his bag she turned and struggled, stretching herself uncomfortably over the seat to the rear of the car. But it proved just too far.
Cursing quietly to herself at her inept failure, she removed her seat belt and climbed up on the seat to kneel on it and found now as she stretched for all she was worth, with the very tips of her fingers she could just reach the bag and all at once out of the corner of his eye, from under her revealingly short skirt, he got a flash of silky soft white flesh above her stocking tops and he saw suspender belt and designer panties too. He was sure they had to be the crotchless ones he’d chosen for her, because she was wearing the low halter Dior dress he’d also neatly laid out on the bed for her earlier.
And if she were wearing those, she’d have the low cut bra on too, the one that was so low cut it left her nipples exposed.
If she wasn’t into this, she certainly had a funny way of showing it. He drew a deep breath and for a split second he had to close his eyes.
“Where are they?” She asked as she sat back in her seat and wrapped the safety belt back over her breast, his big black bag now sat on her lap.
“They’re in a brown colored folder.” Trying to concentrate on his driving he watched as she unzipped the bag and started to take a look through.
“This one?” It was a brown file, and it seemed to meet his description. He gave it a quick glance to make sure and nodded. She opened the folder and started looking through the array of glossy color photos it contained. Timothy peered over.
“His name’s Randolph. He’s forty three, married with two kids. Fit and very healthy.”
She sat there silently, taking her time as she glanced through each and every one of the A4 sized pictures.
“Not bad looking.” Adding quietly. “I suppose.”
“Wife’s away for a couple of weeks. Jamaica or somewhere.” Susan smiled to herself.
“And the kids?” She didn’t want any small children running in while in the throes.
“They’re with her, but there’s a Russian au pair, working as nanny, She’s still here, the wife reckoned she could look after the two teenage lads so she wasn’t needed out in Jamaica.”
Still thumbing through, she came across a particular picture that made her go quiet. It was Randolph, this time with an attractive young woman. He was naked. The young woman was similarly attired, wearing a studded black leather dog collar and nipple clamps dangled painfully from her ample breasts. She brandished what appeared to be a flogger, a cat of nine tails. By the look of it she appeared to be beating him with it.
She had a look of aggression on her face. Randolph was in a noticeably pronounced aroused state and she suppressed a gasp at his size. ‘Interesting,” flipped through her mind, almost speaking the word out loud but she refrained. She didn’t want Timothy to know them, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that she actually enjoyed doing this. After all, it was all part of the game. But he’d know that photo was in there and that she’d been seen it.
She put the pictures down on her lap, stared out of the passenger window and bit her knuckle as if she found it distasteful.
“Why?” She burst out, angrily. “Why do you want me to do all this Timothy? If you really loved me. I mean. Why?” He took his hand off the steering wheel and squeezed her stocking clad knee, running his hand up higher pushing her skirt up, to the inside of her exposed thigh. He so wanted to go further, but refrained. He took his hand away.
She brushed her skirt back down across her long legs, pleased he hadn’t found her wetness.
“Because… “Both his hand were back on the steering wheel. His knuckles were white as he clenched them tight. “Because Susan… Because I want you to.” She sighed. It wasn’t an answer, but she knew it was all she’d get out of him and any further talk from her would get him riled.
He turned a corner. It was a leafy part of town, big houses, expensive cars, Timothy’s Jaguar wasn’t out of place. Wealthy. Affluent. The sort of area where anything could be bought and frequently was.
But this liaison was not to be for financial gain or reward. No, this was gratis, for Timothy’s kicks, his own sexual perversion, touting his attractive thirty two year old wife on the internet for sex and he was not surprised that there were plenty of takers.
Timothy slowed the Jaguar, looking, and then drew it to a standstill.
“Number 4. This is it.”
“Right.” she said. He made a quick call, telling them she was here.
“He’s waiting for you. You got everything?” The photos lay askew on the floor. She picked up her bag.
“I’ve got all I need.” She sighed. They both knew that wasn’t going to be much.
He got out and went round to open the door for her.
“I’ll see you later. Call me when you’re through.” She nodded. He helped her into her coat and he gave her a quick peck on the cheek and squeezed her hand. He felt her hand shake, slightly, but it was no different to last time, nor the time before that. She’d be alright. He knew. She was a big girl, a strong capable woman.
He climbed back in the car and watched her as she walked to the front door. It opened before she got there, the man, early middle age, not unattractive, handsome perhaps, lots of smiles, friendly. He put her hand to Susan’s shoulder and drew her warmly in. At the last moment, Susan glanced back at Timothy and then the door shut. He closed his eyes.
He hadn’t told her everything. Randolph had outlined what he wanted and Timothy had agreed, saying his wife would comply implicitly.
He visualized the scene. Bit of banter first, then drinks to relax the atmosphere and from somewhere, the children’s nanny would join them, the woman who’d been in the photos with the flogger.
They’d progress to touching, kissing, fondling they’d proceed to the bedroom.
And then this man, Randolph would amuse himself, watching while the nanny began toying with Susan. And Timothy closed his eyes as he visualized the look Susan would have on her face as the nanny’s tongue entered through the slit in her crotchless panties and began its pleasuring.
Then when she could take no more, Susan would watch while Randolph fucked the nanny.
Then when he’d finished with her, it would be Susan’s turn to be fucked.
It would be slow and subtle, she’d be laid bare, the nanny helping strip her, her low cut bra and crotchless panties would be ripped away, and inevitably that big cock of his would end up slicing its way up inside that tight cunt of hers and the nanny would watch while Susan had sex with him.
Timothy started the car and drove away slowly, stroking himself. He couldn’t wait to get his wife back.