Anita was out for the morning doing her shift at the charity shop. I had wanted to get around to trying to fix a necklace of hers, which she had asked me do some days beforehand. It was a simple job so I had said to her I was not planning on taking it to the jewellers. Anyway, there I was with her jewellery box in front of me, seeking out an old necklace from which I could source a small metal loop. The box had a top tray, and as I removed it to search underneath, right at the bottom I found some memory cards, numerically labelled. My mind was of course diverted immediately from the job in ha Ler mais
I wish my wife was this dirty #5
Anita parked the car in front of Wes's office. He worked from a unit on a small business park on the edge of a nearby town. There was not a lot of activity there this Sunday afternoon. "OK, here we are," smiled Anita as she got out of the car. As her legs separated I got a glimpse of stocking tops above her short but professional business skirt. She recognised a couple of cars outside the office. "Ah good, I think Wes, Jo and Zoe are already here. Let's see if they are ready for Tania and her husband!" After a morning with the grand-c***dren, evidently my wife's alter-ego had already taken Ler mais
I wish my wife was this dirty #4
Over the following weeks Anita and I had some amazing sex - on some occasions she was dominant and at other times quite submissive. We experimented throughout the house, and outside in the garden. I guessed that her demeanour on these evenings reflected what she had witnessed earlier that day with Zoe. I also suspected that she was probably getting more and more actively involved in the afternoon's activities as every week passed. I found myself incredibly turned on as I pondered the likelihood that she was already fucking Wes and Paul, and perhaps other, unknown, men and perhaps women. I als Ler mais
I wish my wife was this dirty #3
This picks up from Part 2. To put everything into context I strongly suggest that you read these episodes in their numerical order, as I jump about a bit in chronology - it is difficult enough for me to remember how and when everything happened! I got to the end of the letter, stood up from the computer and gazing out of the kitchen window, I drew the palm of my hand across the erection in my trousers. Anita had really opened up to me and evidently felt a bit vulnerable. I told myself that I probably needed to do the same, for a couple of reasons -- we always got on better when neither of us Ler mais
I wish my wife was this dirty #2
Anita's story I woke up the next morning to the sound of the shower. The fog cleared from my brain and the delicious events of the previous evening swam into my mind. A bashful bath-robed Anita appeared from the bathroom and began to speak "I... I don't know quite what..." "I don't know either" I interrupted, "but it was wonderful." We smiled at each other. "Perhaps it might be better if there was no explanation, for now." "OK" Anita replied "but I want to, I just don't know where to begin at the moment." So we left it that and with some awkwardness returned to the real world. Later on Ler mais
I wish my wife was this dirty #1
My wife Anita shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat. "You OK?" I enquired. No reply. A mile or so went by in silence. "Why do they think it's so funny?" "What's funny?" I asked, knowing full well what had got to her. We had just overtaken a white van, which as is quite typical at this time of the year, had its back end covered in the dirt sprayed up from the roads. Some wag had fingered the epithet "I wish my wife was this dirty" in the grime - Not that an uncommon a sight. "That grafitti on the back of that van, didn't you see it?" "Oh, yeah. What a comedian!" "It can't be funny f Ler mais