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A Giving Relationship

12

It was summer when we first met Bob and Jean. My husband, Sean, had driven us to a country pub. When we got there, the car park was almost full, and so was the pub, so we ended up sharing a table. Perhaps it was the weather, but it was one of those days where everyone was feeling good about themselves, and happy and gregarious, and we soon struck up a conversation with the couple opposite. They were broadly similar to us I suppose, a similarly aged, friendly couple of tidy appearance, and we soon realized that we were all getting on very well. Anyway, to cut a long story short, that meeting led to several other social outings with them, and we soon all became good friends.

It was in those early days that our relationship with them changed slightly, at a time when we felt that we knew them as people but were still unaware of much of their background. We had agreed to meet for lunch in the pub, and were just about to order our meal when Jean got a phone call. It seemed that her mother had locked herself out, and needed help to get in to her house. Jean couldn't apologize enough that she would have to go, but promised to be back as quickly as possible. "Don't spoil your lunch," she said, "the three of you order, I can always get a sandwich later."

Now, Sean is quite a handyman, so it seemed sensible for me to suggest that he should accompany Jean, try and assist and, hopefully, help her to get back more quickly. Jean demurred at first, but it was obvious that she was quite relieved to get some help. "Thanks so much," she said, "Bob is absolutely useless at anything like that!" So off they went, leaving Bob and me to relax.

I'd always found Bob something of an enigma. He was always polite, friendly and humorous, but there was something in his manner that puzzled me, something veiled in his eyes when he looked at me, something I couldn't quite understand. I knew he fancied me – not that he'd ever said anything remotely out of line – but I just felt that if he ever got me alone, I would have a hard time fighting him off (not that I necessarily would have wanted to – after all, he was undeniably attractive). "Stupid!" I told myself, "You ARE alone with him" and, I have to admit, the possibilities of the situation intrigued me.

I carried on chatting to him animatedly, but he proved to be much more reserved than I expected, seeming to consider everything before he said it. Not that he was boring - in fact, he had a dry wit and acute perception which made me laugh out loud on several occasions. Our conversation was quite wide ranging but, as often happens with friends, a mild, sexual banter developed between us, although it was fairly lighthearted. At least, it was until, in response to one of my sallies, Bob looked at me seriously and said "I want you." I suppose I must have stared at him, uncomprehendingly, because he went on intensely "Not just physically, I mean ... I want you totally!"

It had been totally unexpected but, the odd thing is, I could feel exactly what he meant! He wanted me to give myself completely to him, in a way I had never, ever given myself to anyone. The idea was breathtaking and, in a swelter of emotion, I laughed it off, but there was something deep down inside me that felt drawn to him, a feeling that I quickly suppressed.

Any further discussion was prevented by the return of Jean and Sean, who were laughing over something that her mother had said. Watching them together, I couldn't help noticing that they also seemed to be getting on like a house on fire, and that Jean had developed a very tactile way of responding to Sean, touching his arm frequently to illustrate some point or other.

Later, as we sat in bed, I raised the subject of Bob and Jean. "What do you think of them?" I asked Sean.

He thought for a moment, "I like them both," then added "She's very easy to get on with."

"Do you fancy her?" I asked, curiously.

"Wouldn't turn her down." he said, casually.

I know him so well! Despite the laid-back answer, I could tell that he was more than just interested. Thinking that the conversation was over, I was reaching for my book when Sean spoke again.

"Alison ... what about you?" he asked indifferently, "Does Bob do it for you?"

"I suppose – I wouldn't turn him down, either," I countered, echoing his false unconcern.

"Seriously," he responded, suddenly dropping the pose. "Would you let him ... you know?"

"Sweetheart, I belong to you. You needn't worry, I'm not going anywhere!"

"No, I mean ... if I didn't mind ... would you?"

I looked at him, consideringly. We had shared swapping fantasies on several occasions, and thoroughly enjoyed them, but we'd never really thought seriously about it. I made an effort to be as honest for us both as I could.

"I don't know, I might, I suppose. If I knew you agreed and could handle it. I don't think I'd like it to be just me, though ... but if it was something we were sharing – doing together – I suppose!"

We talked about it for a little longer, really without any outcome other than some sort of consensus that we might be up for it if they were, and then turned over to go to sleep. However, I lay awake for a while longer, my emotions ranging, thinking about Bob and how he had looked when he had spoken to me earlier that afternoon. I felt that ... I had to be careful. There was something attracting me to the idea – something inside me – something that I wasn't entirely sure that I could control!

In the event, it was several months before anything happened. During that time, we continued to see Bob and Jean, and developed a very relaxed, but stronger, relationship with them both. It was at Christmas that things changed once again.

We were at a mutual friend's house party. I suppose that we had all drunk a little more than usual and, as usual at that time of year, there was a sprig of mistletoe above the doorway. Everyone had been caught there at some point during the evening, and I remember seeing Sean catch Jean quite early on. In fact, I also noticed that she'd returned the compliment later, so I'd seen them kissing twice! I'd been caught 3 or 4 times by various guys before Bob got me, but he was different! The others had all given me a kiss – Bob had taken one!

I know it sounds no different. It probably didn't look any different and I can't explain it but, believe me, there was a world of difference between what the others had done and what Bob did to me! The stupid thing was, I felt as though everyone could read my thoughts and, to hide my loss of composure, I dived into the kitchen!

For the rest of the evening, I managed to hide myself away with a strategy of light chatter and helping out the hostess, so I didn't have any problems until the end of the evening, when Sean said "Are you ready, sweetheart? There's a taxi waiting, we're sharing with Bob and Jean."

Once I got outside, it turned out to be a minibus, so we all managed to get in the back, with me wedged between the two men. The bus drew away, and I remember being conscious of Bob's warm body next to me, feeling his every muscle as we were pitched from side to side.

The banter between the two men was good natured and, typically, mildly sexual. To be honest, it wasn't just them, as Jean and I joined in. Bob mentioned having seen Sean enjoying his wife (or had it been the other way around), and Sean responded that Bob hadn't seemed to have been backward in that area himself. I suppose we were all fairly well-oiled – certainly, we all seemed to think it funny. That was when Bob suddenly said "Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't you take Jean to yours', and I'll take Alison to ours." Turning quickly to his wife, he asked "You up for it?"

Jean smiled at him hazily. "The question is, I suppose – Is Sean UP for it?" She turned to me, smiling, "and Alison, of course."

Sean didn't even bother to respond and, suddenly, the three of them were all looking at me!

I was flummoxed! Part of me was saying "Get out of here," but there was another, more basic, part of me that wanted this. To hide my confusion I drawled, nonchalantly, "You know me, I always take a dare!"

Thus it was that I watched my husband ushering Jean through our front door, and then the bus turned away towards their house. Bob made no advances, merely putting his arm around me and drawing me close. I spent the rest of the journey in a welter of anticipation. What was Bob expecting? What were the rules to this? Was it just 'soft' dating, or was I expected to go all the way? How far were Jean and Sean going to take things? Then again, I figured I knew my husband well enough to know that he wouldn't turn her down if she was on offer!

At their front door I waited, numbly, as Bob paid off the driver, and was ushered in to their living room. I had been there once before - they had a pleasant, period house, with shutters and a thatched roof. The main feature of the living room was a huge fireplace, and I could see that the log fire had been banked up, and left to warm the room. There was a large, oak dining table in the centre of the room, and two easy chairs and a settee were placed around the edges.

Ignoring me for the moment, Bob efficiently removed the fireguard, storing it in a cupboard in the kitchen. Stoking the fire, he threw several logs on it, and I could feel the resultant heat even from the back of the room. Finally, he removed the dining chair from the side of the table nearest the fire and, as I gazed on uncomprehendingly, turned towards me. Taking the few, small steps needed to reach me, he took my hand and tugged me (I can only describe it as that) towards the fireplace. As we reached it, I suddenly found myself being spun around, a hand forcing my neck down towards the table. Before I really knew what was happening, I was held, bent over the table, as a hand lifted my skirt.

I t was almost like a dream! Physically, I could see, and feel, the hardness of the table and the heat of the fire, but in my mind I was watching from behind, as my skirt rose up, revealing the stockings, suspender belt and brief panties which were all that I had on underneath!

There were no preliminaries! I felt a finger push my panties aside, and then Bob was sliding his erection into my pussy. Almost detachedly, I observed that I was wet down there, and that he had no problem in burying himself in me to the hilt!

He shagged me! No foreplay, no caresses, he just fucked me! I should have resisted, I should have made him be gentle! Instead, I just meekly accepted him and - the ultimate betrayal of my body - orgasmed copiously as his seed sprayed into me.

We lay in a heap across the table for a few moments, then he dragged me to the settee, virtually ripping my clothes from my body. Forcing my head down again, he made me take him in my mouth and, tasting both our secretions, I soon felt him becoming aroused once again. He took me several times that night, in various positions and with varying force. I didn't give my body - he took it - and, as dawn broke, I realized something which I had feared. I was his - he was going to be able to do what he wanted with me!

Later, he drove me home. Sean and Jean were sitting at our breakfast bar sharing a coffee, and we joined them. It was as though nothing had happened! We just chatted good-naturedly and, eventually, Bob asked Jean if she was ready to go. After they had gone, I lay down with Sean and thought long and hard about what had happened to me. In the cold light of day, things appeared different and I realized that our marriage wasn't under threat. Nevertheless, whilst I accepted that I still loved my husband, I knew that Bob had awoken something in me that I could not deny, and that I would have to satisfy.

Our life was different after that. For several weeks, on the surface, there was little change, except that our sex life often now included Bob and Jean. Sean had enjoyed himself, as Jean had, and there was no sign of jealousy anywhere. We mostly met as a foursome, sometimes only watching each other with our own partners. We sometimes swapped in each other's presence, but Bob was a different person on those occasions, taking me fully, but gently, each time.

Bob and Sean were the best of friends, and I'm not sure which of them next suggested that we should cross date. Jean wanted to go dancing, and said so. Something made me look to Bob for direction, and I was mildly surprised when he chose the cinema. A few days later, Sean and Jean bade us farewell and Bob drove me into the city. When I saw the cinema, the penny dropped. It was an adult theatre! We went in and quickly found seats in the middle of a row.

I suppose there were a half dozen people in there. There was only one couple apart from us and they were much younger, probably teenagers. The others were all single men. As the film began, in the dim light of the projector, I could see them dotted around the theatre. I looked away from Bob. There was a man on the far end of our row, but no one else near. As we took our seats, I began to remove my Mackintosh, but had only undone a couple of buttons when Bob said quietly "Leave it on!"

That puzzled me, but my attention was soon taken by what was happening in front of me. The film director hadn't wasted time! Two minutes in, and a well-built blonde was being seen to by two well-hung studs. It was quite clear that every orifice was on offer and was going to be used with vigour!

My attention switched sharply! Pushing aside my coat, Bob had run his hand up my inner thigh and found the bare flesh above my stocking. Involuntarily, I eased my legs slightly further apart, and his fingers began to caress my panties. I felt myself moisten.

As Bob began to caress me more fully, he deliberately pulled my coat away at the side farthest from him, and pushed my skirt up, revealing the inches of white thigh above my stocking tops. Alarmed that we might be seen, I looked along the row to the man at the end. Clearly, he had missed nothing! His eyes locked on mine enquiringly and, as I stared blankly at him, he began moving along the row towards us, never once taking his eyes from mine. I felt like a rabbit, trapped in headlights, and it was a moment before I could react but, as the stranger took the seat next to me, I began to draw away from him.

"No! Stay there!" Bob said forcibly, under his breath and, as if to compel me, dropped his arm, which had been around my shoulders, down behind me, grabbing my forearm, and pinning me in my seat. This left me slightly facing the stranger, with my legs and panties on display, and my arms effectively pinned to my sides. I felt like an offering in some sort of sacrificial ceremony!

Seeing Bob so obviously presenting me to him, the stranger moved close. He was an older man, with grayish hair and glasses. Incongruously, I remember thinking that, 20 years ago, he probably would have been quite good looking. Reaching forward, he slid one large, gnarled hand onto my thigh, quickly moving upwards to squeeze the soft flesh above my stocking top. The other hand went round my shoulders, pulling my upper body closer to him and forcing me to move my hips forward on the seat. I felt Bob move backwards, away from me, effectively delivering me as this stranger took possession and, before I could even think about the implications of this, the man was kissing me!

They say that prostitutes will do just about anything for a client except kiss them – it's just too personal. I guess that's how I felt too, because it was only when this complete stranger touched his lips to mine that I felt in any way violated. Panic rose in me, and I was just about to struggle when Bob laid his hand on my shoulder. "Easy," he said "Do this for me."

What he wanted me to do wasn't exactly clear to me, but the momentary panic was gone. Something deep inside me wanted to please him. I felt as though it was Bob I was giving in to, not the stranger, and, mildly I relaxed and accepted this man's tongue between my lips, as his hands probed my breasts and the soft, silk covering between my legs.

One hand now found its way up inside my blouse and under my bra, cupping and squeezing one of my ample breasts. The other, which had been delving between my thighs, now slid inside my panties, down into the wetness there. Parting the tender folds of flesh, a finger probed and stroked itself inside me, quickly finding the little nub that is the source of so much womanly pleasure.

Suddenly, I felt Bob lean forward once more, and a whisper came from behind.

"Unzip him."

Tremulously, I reached both hands down and located the stranger's fly, using one hand to steady the material as I drew it open. Sliding my fingers inside, I pushed down the band of his underwear and grasped his already solid erection, drawing it into the open. Even in the flickering half light of the theatre, I could see that it was large, and doubts assailed me. Could I do this? I asked myself. Would I be able to perform to Bob's expectation? What was his expectation, in any case?

Perhaps sensing my turmoil, he whispered "Rub it!" and I obediently began a steady rubbing motion on the man's prick. My hand went up the length of the shaft, around the head, and down again, dragging the foreskin as it went. If I had thought it large before, my fears were now heightened, as it seemed to stiffen and swell before my very eyes! As I continued to rub him, the stranger sat back, his eyes closed in enjoyment.

Shortly, I felt a hand on my neck. Bob was forcing my head down towards the object of my attentions. There was no doubt what was expected, what he demanded of me, and I realized that this was THE moment, the special moment between us. If I backed out now, I could never, ever be what he needed. I had to make this sacrifice freely in order to be truly his. Boldly, almost flamboyantly, I shifted my position and leaned down to impale my mouth on the stranger's quivering tool. Behaving as though it was an object, rather than part of a living being, I began to suck and tease it, constantly varying the pace and depth of my ministrations. The results were not long in coming, and the stranger grabbed my head with both hands, thrusting upwards into the recesses of my throat as he fired sperm wildly into me. Gagging, I had little choice but to swallow most of it and as he relaxed, and I managed to straighten up, Bob passed me a hankie to clean the strands trickling from my mouth.

"Come on!" Bob said, and we got up to leave. My erstwhile partner was clearly about to remonstrate with us over this abrupt departure, but Bob silenced him with a glance, Hurriedly pulling my clothing together, and fastening my coat, I followed him quickly out.

Outside the theatre, Bob hurried me to the car, pausing only to kiss me. I felt a mile high! Everything seemed so intense, the smell of the air, the sound of the traffic – I felt as though I was experiencing them for the first time. Bob's kiss was languid, probing. I was conscious of every touch, the warmth of him, even the faint, manly smell of him!

Pushing me into the car, Bob leaped into the driving seat and we shot away. I thought that he was about to take me to his place and fuck me but after a mile or so, we turned into a woody parking area. It was almost deserted, and Bob drove well in to the tree cover, where there was little chance of us being seen by the casual observer. Striding around to the passenger side, he pulled the door open and almost lifted me bodily out of the car. Half expecting to be flung on the floor, I was surprised when he opened the rear door and sat me on the back seat facing him. Leaning down to kiss me, I felt him pulling my coat down around my shoulders.

His next move was a complete surprise! Yanking my coat belt from its loops, he reached right around me and tied my wrists together behind me. Standing back for a second to admire my thrusting breasts, he then reached forward, tearing both halves of my blouse apart. He then slid the ribbons of my bra down my shoulders and pulled the cups down around my waist. Satisfied, he stood back, admiring his handiwork as I sat there, tethered and open, with my breasts swaying gently in time with my intense breathing. For a moment, time seemed to stop as we contemplated each other. I can't even guess what he was thinking, but I was awash with anticipation. I knew what was going to happen to me – it was just how it would happen that was keeping me guessing!

12
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