Driving home from North Wales to the South West of England, having spent a weekend at the in-laws, both my wife and I were feeling horny and mischievous. The weather was seriously warming up and it was going to be a scorcher of the day in more ways than one.
We were both thirty years old with no children at the time, but when we visited my wife’s parents we always showed respect by not indulging in any sexual activity. On the journey back home, however, my wife and I were fair game.
My wife Gemma is five-seven and she’s a beautiful brunette with stunning blue eyes and a sexy, voluptuous body. If I may say so myself. Me, the other half as she jokingly refers to me as, I’m Timothy and I’m five-ten, slim, with short dark hair and brown eyes.
Gemma and I compliment each other in every way. We met in our early twenties and married in our mid-twenties. Our relationship has always been open, honest and fun. Sure, we’ve had our arguments, but who hasn’t? We like the same movies and TV shows. We eat the same foods and we love being in each others company. Not to mention the sex is great, spontaneous and exciting at times.
Anyway, it was Sunday mid-morning when we left North Wales. Not long into the drive home we were in the middle of beautiful mountains and countryside, with not much around except for sheep grazing and a few Sunday drivers on the road.
In no rush to get home and prepare for the working week ahead, Gemma and I relaxed and watched the hills and mountains go by. We talked mostly before suddenly my wife informed me that she was feeling super horny, and couldn’t wait to get home and have me fuck her brains out. I grinned, knowing how filthy my wife can be when she talks dirty.
“You read my mind,” I chuckled. “I’ve had a hard-on for the last half an hour!”
Gemma put her hand in between my legs. “Mmmmm, these jeans do seem a little tight,” she teased, rubbing my cock through the denim material.
“What’s got you so horny?” I smirked, as her hand squeezed and rubbed me.
“No sex since Wednesday might have something to do with it,” she laughed. “What’s your excuse?”
“I can’t stop thinking about taking a detour, somewhere more remote than we are now. We haven’t fucked outdoors in ages!”
Gemma laughed again and kept rubbing. “What if we get caught?”
“We won’t. We can scan the map on the sat-nav for somewhere unpopulated. There’s bound to be tracks leading to really remote locations. Anyway, the risk of getting caught is part of the thrill!” I reminded her.
“I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.” My wife cooled down and removed her hand. “Maybe I could tease you all the way home instead?” she smiled, suggestively.
“I won’t last two minutes if you edge me for the next two and a half hours!” I told her.
“Maybe I’ll just show you a snippet of what you’ll be getting at home?” My wife smiled and looked behind us.
“I dare you!” I gasped, glancing into the rear-view mirror and finding an empty road behind us.
With that devious, mischievous grin of hers, my wife slowly started unbuttoning the front of her floral V neck summer dress.
“It’s been awhile since you got your big tits out in public, Gem,” I pretended to complain.
“Because you haven’t booked us a summer holiday abroad for ages, you tight sod!”
Gemma was right. A summer holiday to some Spanish or Greek destination was well overdue. Especially when she loves going topless on the beach.
“Noted! Now get your tits out!” I joked again, only I wasn’t joking.
Gemma again checked behind us and still the road was empty. We were gaining on the lorry in front of us though, so I slowed down by 10mph to watch her continue unbuttoning the dress.
“Keep your eyes on the road, Mr,” she giggled. “I don’t want to be in a road traffic accident with my boobs out!” We both laughed.
Gemma then leaned forwards and put her hands behind her back, under the dress. The thin summer outfit opened and revealed her busty white bra and cleavage. My cock throbbed as her bust fell forwards. It throbbed some more when she sat up and thrust her chest out to unclasp her bra.
“Mmmmm, I’ll never get tired of seeing your tits!” I groaned.
“Not even when they’re old and saggy?” she laughed.
“When you’re sixty we can get them lifted, if you like?” I winked.
Gemma laughed at me as she wriggled around in the passenger seat. I’d seen her do this on quite a few occasions. Skillfully removing her bra under a top, blouse or dress.
“Be a good husband and hold onto this for me,” she said.
My wife was now holding her bra up, dangling it over the handbrake in mid-air. Suddenly, three motorbikes came flying towards us on the opposite side of the road. Gemma shrieked and instantly dropped her big bra into my lap.
“That was close!” she gasped, pulling her unbuttoned dress tight across her chest.
“They were going too fast to notice,” I told her, grinning at what was to follow.
“Open your dress for the next five minutes, and no matter what, or who passes us, you have to keep your tits exposed.” I dared her, tossing the bra onto the back seat.
In past experiences of doing this, my wife would usually expose herself for my eyes only, and then cover up when vehicles passed. The beach was the only place I got to enjoy other men looking at her big tits. But like the good sport she was, Gemma flipped open both sides of her dress and accepted the five-minute challenge.
“Hard as bullets!” I exclaimed, glancing back and forth at her nipples standing proud in the centre of her large, dark areolas. Gemma simply laughed at my predictable reaction.
“Sat-nav says it’s 10.54am. At 10.59 they’re going away… at least for a short while,” my wife giggled, trying to relax.
Holding the steering wheel with my left hand, I reached over with my right and gently squeezed both tits. They felt so soft and full I wanted to pull over and grope the fuck out of them.
“A great pair of tits you have there, Mrs,” I smiled, then a big red tractor joined the road and turned right towards us from a junction.
“Oh my God! Here comes the slowest fucking vehicle possible! Quick! Speed up, Tim!”
Gemma was flustered, wriggling in the passenger seat and blushing as red as the tractor. The situation added to the excitement, though. She was also giggling, causing her tits to jiggle.
“So what if he sees you. I’m not breaking the speed limit,” I shrugged. Adding a little extra exposure for my wife would bring a new dimension to the game. Her nipples looked just as hard as my cock felt.
As we drew nearer to the bumbling farm machine, my wife closed her eyes and tensed as if she was about to hold a hairy tarantula. She hates spiders. I found her aroused discomfort amusing and sexy. The tractor then drew level with the front of our car and the farmer stared right down at Gemma. He looked shocked before he grinned and laughed, beeping his horn at the end.
“Did he see me?” Gemma panicked as the tractor finally passed us.
“Yeah, you can open your eyes now.” I was beaming.
“But did he see me?” Gemma flapped and turned around to see the back of the tractor.
“Ohhhh yes!” I chuckled, glancing down at my wife’s big tits rubbing against my arm and the two chairs. “It was only for a second or two, but he definitely looked straight down at you. Didn’t you hear him beep his horn? That’s two men you’ve made horny and it’s only 10.57am!”
Gemma exhaled a deep breath and settled back down. She was flushed but she definitely enjoyed it.
“Two minutes left,” she warned me, fidgeting with her dress, making sure her tits were properly exposed again. That made me smile.
The next two minutes rolled without a single vehicle overtaking or passing our car. The lorry that was in front had turned off by now, so we were left with an open road ahead of us. I tried to play with my wife but she kept hitting my hand away from her body, laughing at my frustration and telling me to keep my eyes on the road.
“See how long you can keep your dress open,” I dared again, when Gemma went to cover herself up at 11am. “You went an extra minute, so let’s see how long you can really go for.”
Gemma didn’t reply, but she did leave her dress open, and finally I got to feel up her tits. I lifted, bounced and squeezed those bad boys before tweaking her sensitive nipples.
We drove like that for a few more miles until we hit a small, populated village, where my wife covered herself up, but she then exposed herself again as soon as we were back on the open road.
“I really need to fuck you!” I told her. “These jeans are killing me!”
“Maybe you should expose yourself?” she grinned suggestively again.
“I’ll end up shooting my load whilst driving, and that won’t be fun for either of us,” I chuckled. “Zoom in on that road there,” I said, pointing at a line coming off the next T junction, after the big bend in the road. “Where does it go?” I asked.
Gemma zoomed in on the sat-nav and we followed the road until it simply ended, not revealing much at all.
“We’ll turn off there and take a look!” It’s only a few minutes away.” I said, excitedly.
Suddenly, a white transit van came over the hill towards us. Gemma started squirming, but with my persuasion she put her shades on and kept her hands by her sides.
“We’re both doing about sixty. We’ll pass in a flash. The driver probably won’t even notice you,” I blagged her, hoping the driver would in fact get a damn good look at my wife’s tits.
“Easy for you to say… shit! There’s three of them in there!” She then really started freaking out.
I didn’t mean to slow down, but as I focussed on seeing if there was more than one person in the van, I dropped our speed by about 15mph. Gemma looked anxiously out of the passenger window, unable to look the approaching van.
“You’re right! There are three of them. Three blokes!” I laughed and felt my cock strain harder against my jeans. I also slowed down by another 5mph in my excitement.
The passenger closest to us started bouncing excitedly in his seat, pointing. I daren’t tell my wife. The driver also slowed right down, and all three of them were now leaning up close to the windscreen, grinning and laughing, as the first guy to spot us continued pointing and mouthing something.
In reality it all happened in a matter of seconds, but it felt like a lusty eternity. My heart was racing as I watched three men pointing at my wife with her tits exposed.
The passenger window came down on the van and words were shouted, but I couldn’t hear what was said. The driver honked his horn repeatedly as the guy in the middle of the cab moved his hands up and down, below his chest, simulating a big pair of bouncing tits.
“Fuck!” I gasped, adrenaline pumping. “They definitely saw you!” I put my foot down and it was all over. The white van was out of sight.
Gemma couldn’t bring herself to look at me, she was too busy blushing and grinning with embarrassment. I checked to see if she was ok and found she had enjoyed it as much as I had. We then drove around the big bend in the road, beside a dangerous looking rock face, until the road straightened out again.
“That junction is just up ahead, Gem. “I can’t see any buildings in the area. Can you?”
“Nope.”
Gemma and I were now looking out of her passenger window as far as our eyes could see. There was nothing but fields and fences with a line of mountains behind them. I glanced down at my wife’s gorgeous tits still on display. I couldn’t wait to fuck her.
“I’ll follow the road and see if we can pull over somewhere. I need to fuck you!” I laughed.
“If we get caught I’m blaming you!” Gemma smiled and elbowed me.
“Maybe we can live out your fantasy?” I grinned mischievously, slowing down for the T junction.
“What fantasy?” she frowned curiously.
“The one where I tie you up naked to a tree or a post, or something. Blindfolded and gagged to be found,” I gave a dirty chuckle and took the ninety-degree turning off the main road.
“That fantasy is staying firmly in the bedroom, Mr!” she laughed.
“Come on, Gem! It will be hot as fuck!”
“And what if somebody finds me like that?”
“Nobody is going to find us out here. I’ll be close by in case somebody did come.”
“You’re nuts! It’s a fantasy! Not something I actually want to do!” Gemma was laughing in shock. I believed she could be coaxed into doing it though.
“Let’s see what we find first, hey? Let’s not rule it out just yet!” I laughed once more and dropped the idea, for now. Gemma shook her head, giggling, and elbowed me again, but she didn’t say no!
I drove a few miles along the B road until it split two ways. I stopped the car and looked left and right. To our left the road became a track, which clearly led to a large farm. Just on the horizon we could see the roof to a farm house, and smoke rising from a fire. To our right the road also turned into a track, barely wide enough to take a car. We had no idea where or what it would lead us to.
“Well, this is no good,” Gemma complained.
“Maybe we can park here and I’ll take you over the bonnet?” I joked and put my hand up her dress. “You’re soaking!” I chuckled.
Gemma blushed and closed her legs before opening them again. She let me rub her mound through her panties then I hooked a finger inside. Rubbing her clit and pussy-lips, she was definitely soaking now.
“As much as I need your cock inside me we’re not doing it here. Drive up that track and see where it takes us,” Gemma suggested.
Nodding in agreement, I removed my hand from her hot, moist panties and turned the car right. It was a squeeze at first, but once I drove about a hundred metres along the track it opened up, and I relaxed, realising we weren’t going to get wedged in.
“Do you have anything in the car that you can tie me up with?” Gemma mumbled, too shy to say it out loud. My heart started thumping. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Fuck yeah!” I exclaimed. “I’m sure I have something amongst the breakdown equipment, but are you serious, Gem? Because I am!”
My wife blushed and squirmed. She looked so hot and vulnerable with her dress open down the middle, still showing off her tits.
“Only if we can park somewhere safe and find some place I’m comfortable with, and confident we won’t be disturbed.”
That somewhere safe appeared around another mile ahead. In the way of an opening that looked like a neglected lay-by. I pulled in and checked there was enough room for vehicles to pass without scratching my car. We then got out and took a little stroll around the area for that ‘some place’.
Gemma left her bra on the back seat but buttoned up her dress before getting out of the car. I held her hand and we walked further up the track, until we saw an old barn constructed from corrugated steel, almost hidden behind some over grown bushes.
“Shall we take a look?” I smiled eagerly.
Gemma was excited to. “I’ve always wanted to fuck in a barn,” she giggled and snuggled into my arm.
We carefully approached the opening to the barn and crossed over the track, and then through the open, rusted gate. The place had obviously been abandoned long ago. Providing it was safe inside, I began to get my hopes up of giving my wife one of her kinky fantasies.
“It’s kind of spooky,” Gemma giggled again, gripping my hand tight.
“Don’t be daft. There’s plenty of day light in there,” I told her.
What I presumed to once be the front of the structure was completely gone. It stood abandoned with a dodgy roof, two sides and back, which all looked to have seen better days. I walked my wife into the barn and looked around the place.
It couldn’t have been bigger than six metres wide, ten metres long, and maybe four metres high. Apart from a few old bales of hay the place was empty. Then I noticed a snapped piece of rope hanging down from one of the roof girders. I looked directly beneath it at the floor and laughed.
“What’s so funny?” my wife wondered.
“There’s your bind,” I told her, pointing at what was left of an old homemade swing.
On the floor was a pile of blue nylon rope attached to a plank of wood. It reminded me of when I was a kid making tree swings in the woods.
“I was actually hoping you wanted to have your wicked way with me over one of those hay bales instead,” my wife giggled and squeezed my crotch.
Studying the place, I grinned. “Not quite. I’m going to tie you to one of these vertical girders over there,” I informed my wife, pointing to the back, right corner. I then kissed her passionately for a moment.
“Are you ok waiting here by yourself while I quickly run back to the car? I’ll be as quick as I can.” I said.
“Don’t be long,” Gemma smirked and went towards one of the hay bales.
As fast as my legs could carry me, I ran back to the car and opened the boot. I stopped to think what I’d need. I’ll blindfold Gemma with her sleep mask and she can lay on the picnic blanket, I told myself. I’ll gag her with the panties she’s wearing. I grinned at that thought. As if fate would have it, the rope was already on site.
I locked the car and returned to the barn and my wife, excited as a kid on Christmas Eve. Upon entering the barn I raised my arms up, holding the picnic blanket in one hand and the sleep mask in the other. Gemma was sat on a bale of hay, twirling her long brown hair with a finger. She started rocking with laughter as soon as she saw I had what we needed.
“Come here you sexy thing!” I said, putting the blanket down. I needed to show my wife how much I loved and desired her before attempting to do this.
Gemma wrapped her arms around my neck and I held her hips. We kissed passionately once more as I gently caressed her tits through the dress. I then lifted the dress and slipped a hand straight down the front of her panties.
Moaning in unison, the kiss became wet and noisy as I slowly fingered my wife in the middle of an abandoned barn in the middle of nowhere.
“Are you ready to be helpless? Left to be found and fucked by a stranger?” I teased her softly. My cock was raging.
“A stranger?” Gemma sounded slightly concerned.
“Me, silly. I’m the stranger.”
“Oh, in that case, yes!”
“I’ll leave you in here on your own for five to ten minutes. I’ll be around the barn. I promise I won’t go any further than that. Then I’ll come in and pretend to find you.”
Gemma giggled and became giddy in my arms. She was more than up for doing this.
“What if a real stranger does find me? I’ll have to keep my dress on, fully buttoned up, just in case.” My wife reasoned.
“That’s fine. It’ll add to the excitement when I remove it. If somebody does discover you then I’ll be right by your side. If it’s embarrassing then so be it. At least you’ll be safe and we can just get the hell out of here.”
“I’ve never felt so nervous and excited in my life!” Gemma shrieked.
“Shhhhh,” I chuckled, excited. “Don’t make too much noise. Ok, let’s use the girder in the corner. But first you’ll be needing this.”
Softly slipping the sleep mask over my wife’s head and covering her eyes, I then told her to stand still while I collected the picnic blanket and the old rope still laying in the middle of the barn floor.
“Are you up for doing this?” I whispered in Gemma’s ear, taking her hand in mine. She bit down on her lower lip and nodded.
Carefully walking my wife towards the corner of the barn, I opened out the picnic blanket and helped her lay down on it.
“Oh my God!” she trembled. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”
“You’ll be fine. I’m here with you,” I assured her. “Now lay down and put your arms above your head. That’s it.”
With my wife in position, I wrapped the rope around the girder and then her wrists. I wouldn’t last five minutes as a sailor with those knots, but they didn’t need to look neat and tidy. They only needed to bind my sexy wife to the barn, and they did.
Standing back to admire my ‘handy work’, my mind absorbed every erotic detail. I gazed the length of the girder and then at the blue nylon rope binding my wife’s wrists together. From there my gaze followed along her outstretched arms to her excited and nervous, blindfolded face.
I paused to watch and listen. Gemma was fidgeting against the rope and her breathing was concentrated, as she tried to get herself comfortable and relaxed. My gaze went further, appreciating the size of her soft mounds peaking under the dress, the buttons that I would soon be pulling apart, to finally the hem of her dress.
My wife looked hotter than I’d seen her in a while, and that was saying something. I also felt my cock start throbbing inside my jeans again. I don’t think it actually ever stopped throbbing since my wife got her tits out. It all felt like a sexy dream since we left Gemma’s parents’ house.
“You look so sexy,” I said softly.
“What are going to use as a gag?” she asked curiously.
I didn’t answer her right away. Getting down on my knees I removed her sandals from her feet and softly ran my hands up her smooth legs. Gemma giggled and let out a soft squeak when I pushed the dress up to her waist, and exposed her thighs and panty covered mound. She was hot and moist with a sizeable damp patch showing at the front of the white lace fabric
“I’m going to use these,” I told her, tucking my fingers inside the waistband.
“You could have at least gotten a clean pair from the car,” she laughed.
“But they are clean. You only put them on this morning,” I teased, slowly removing the panties down her legs.
“Uh, mmm, uhhhhh,” Gemma softly and quietly moaned, until I eventually pulled her panties down her legs and over her feet.
My sexy wife’s shaven pussy was raring to go. Ready and in need of some serious action. Her clit was no doubt throbbing, I thought, because her outer lips were swollen and slightly parted, and her hole was glistening with pussy juice. My sexy wife was ready to get fucked. She probably had been for a while now, but our game was only just getting started.
Running a hand up the inside of her left thigh, I traced my fingertips softly along her sensitive skin. Gemma gasped and exhaled suddenly. Then I gently rubbed my fingers against her pussy, watching her melt as her head lulled erotically from side to side. My wife’s mind was now firmly fixed on what I was doing to her.
Moaning softly, she pulled her feet up the blanket and spread her legs. “Just fuck me now, Tim!” she begged.
I smiled and started moving her clit in small circular motions. Gemma gasped and raised her backside an inch off the ground. I then slid my finger down the centre of her pussy, pressing into her slit, then into her pussy.
“Ohhh fuck yes! That’s it!” My wife exhaled her approval as I fingered her gently, taking her to the brink of her first orgasm in days.
Once I had Gemma panting and gasping, bouncing her backside up and down on the blanket, I knew it was time. She exhaled in frustration when I stopped, but she knew it was all part of the game. I would shortly return to fuck her hard.
“Nod your head when your panties are in far enough,” I said, carefully stuffing her undergarment into her mouth.
Gemma wriggled, struggling to settle her heightened arousal. With her mouth now full of damp, lace material, excited short gasps started sucking and blowing through her nostrils. It was hard not to just take off my jeans and fuck my wife right there and then. She looked incredibly hot, so sexy and so very, very vulnerable.
“Is that comfortable enough for you, Gem? I don’t want you chocking to death on your own underwear,” I chuckled. My wife gave a muffled laugh and nodded her head.
My heart started racing at the realisation of what we were about to do. Although the risk was minimal, it still very much existed. I put my mouth close to my wife’s ear and whispered.
“As your husband, your protector, I’m going to leave you now. You’ll be safe, but I want you to slip into your fantasy. Try to let go and enjoy this experience, Gem. When I return I’m not going to speak. I’ll be fulfilling my role as the stranger. The silent passer by.”
“Uh! Uhhhmph!” Gemma breathed through her nose and pulled on the rope. She was on fire now.
I kissed her forehead softly and pulled her dress down, making it presentable. Rising to my feet, I smiled at my wife, my helpless, super-horny wife. Man, she is perfect in every possible way, I acknowledged. I then turned and left her all alone.
Outside the barn I scanned anything and everything for signs of human life. Nothing. I sighed in huge relief and excitement. The scene was as it was when we arrived, some thirty minutes ago. It was peacefully quiet and spacious.
I walked around the barn for five minutes and checked on my wife through the many gaps and rusted holes in the corrugated steel. She wriggled for a little bit, not trying to free herself, but to contain herself.
Eventually, she did settle and become almost lifeless, breathing steadily through her nose as she lay on the picnic blanket, blindfolded, with only her dress covering her modesty, and of course, with her wrists above her head, bound securely to the girder.
The barn was largely hidden from the overgrowth in the field that reached the fence and track. Before returning inside to really get things underway, I went into the bushes to take a piss. That’s when my heart rate quadrupled.
I heard voices. Lots of voices. Male and female coming down the track. Quickly finishing my piss, I put my cock away and crept around the bushes to find lots of heads bobbing up and down. Then more of who they actually were came into view.
“Ramblers!” Or something similar, I thought anxiously. Basically, a group of people, usually retirement age, whose hobby it is to go on walks with likeminded people. My grandfather was a member once upon a time.
My anxiety got worse when the group stepped off the road and through the gate into the field with the barn.
“For fucks sake!” I cursed angrily under my breath. The group dropped their rucksacks and decided to take a water break.
A few of them looked at the barn and started discussing what they thought it was once used for. One of them only need approach the huge opening at the front and they’d discover my wife tied up like a psychopaths victim.
“Gemma!” I gasped, then quietly made way over to the back of the barn.
I peered through a fairly large gap to see my wife laying as dead still as she possibly could. She was panicking though, breathing fast through her nose. I knew she could hear the group of walkers to, because I could see and hear them from my standing position.
That moment was truly terrifying. There was nothing sexy about this group discovering my wife. They’d no doubt come to Gemma’s aid and call the police. I started thinking how I would reveal myself and confess that my wife and I were playing a game.
Gemma would of course back me up, but the shame and embarrassment we’d both feel would surely dissolve any chance of us having fun outdoors again. This very experience was likely to dissolve any chance of us playing this game as it was. The memory of getting caught by this lot would be a very humiliating one indeed. I had to wait it out, and so to did my wife, and hope nobody would discover her.
“Pssst! Gemma!” I hissed through the gap in the barn. Her head turned sharply towards the sound of my voice. “Just stay still and don’t make a sound. It’s just a group of Ramblers. They’ve stopped for some water. They’ll be on their way again soon, and then I’ll come and untie you and we get the fuck out of here.”
My wife nodded and remained still. I couldn’t even imagine what she must have been thinking and feeling during those intense moments. It scarily felt like the unknown and that time had stood still. The Ramblers hung around for about fifteen minutes before they finally started putting their water bottles away and pulling on their rucksacks.
Then, our worst nightmare began. An old looking fella, around mid-sixties, I guessed, strolled into the barn. Looking up at the decaying roof, he had his hands in his pockets, whistling. I moved away from the gap close to my wife and to a more inconspicuous one further down the rear of the barn.
The old man was tall, stocky and bald on top, with grey hair around the sides and back of his head. He was obviously fit, but he still looked old compared to me and Gemma.
I glanced at my wife. She appeared very tense now, and her chest was rapidly rising and falling as she breathed through her nose. I then flicked my attention back to the old man. He was still looking around the place as he whistled a tune I didn’t recognise, but one I will never forget.
“Don’t look this way!” I muttered anxiously under my breath. “Just turn back around and leave with your group!” I begged in a whisper. No such luck.
My stomach felt like it was going to drop out of my arse, and my adrenaline released so fast I felt nauseous. The old man turned around and immediately stopped whistling. He was now staring with a blank expression at my bound, blindfold, gagged wife.
My whole body started shaking uncontrollably and I didn’t know what to do. The old man glanced back at his group, who were chatting amongst themselves and getting ready to leave. He then glanced back at Gemma, with an air of curiosity that suggested he might have found something valuable he didn’t want to share. Like a bullion of gold.
I swallowed hard and gritted my teeth as this stranger stood a couple of feet in front of my wife, skirting his eyes up and down the length of her body.
He was so difficult to read. The idea that Gemma might actually be there against her will, didn’t seem to cross his mind. It was as if he was trying to decide what he should do. Ditto. I was also trying to decide what I should do. I was worried but aroused. Worried for my wife but aroused by his presence.
As the realisation began to set in, that my wife’s fantasy had now come to life, I selfishly decided to wait and see how it would actually unfold. I was overcome by so many emotions that it felt as if my feet were rooted in the ground anyway.
The old man took another glance at his group then stepped towards the right side of Gemma. Staring down at her with piercing eyes, he adjusted the front of his walking trousers and got down on his knees, close to her head. I should go to her, I urged myself. I should go to my wife, but I couldn’t. I just had to see what he would do first.
I watched almost paralysed as the old man gently stroked my wife’s arms, up to the rope and around her wrists. Calm and controlled, he rubbed his thumb over my wife’s diamond ring. He grinned and Gemma gasped, pulling on the rope. Her breathing increased but she didn’t kick out, wriggle, or try to scream like you see in horror movies. I gulped and my heart started pounding.
“Ok, everybody!” a woman shouted. “Let’s get moving again!”
Hesitating for a moment, the old man appeared to be in two minds before he stood up and finally left the barn to join the group.
I knew I had to come out of my hiding place and try to pass it off as some kind of fucked up joke, before the old man called the police. No way was he going to pretend he didn’t see my wife. Only God knows what Gemma must have been thinking. Her mind would have been in turmoil after that ordeal.
Static by what I had just witnessed, and all the worrying thoughts bouncing around inside my skull, I watched from a distance as the old man stood talking to the woman who had gathered everyone up. There were no signs of concern or distress. No urgency to run into the barn and free my wife, or call the police. Nothing.
It quickly became apparent why not when the group left without the old man. The area descended into complete silence and I noticed my wife relax. Oh no, I thought. He scanned the track from left to right, checking all was clear before heading back to the barn.
“Fuck!” I cursed.
I went to warn my wife of his return, but instead of entering the barn, the old man dropped his rucksack and decided to walk around the structure. Going out of my mind, I quickly dashed for the bushes and hid.
Only wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, the thorns and brambles attacked my arms and face, scratching and cutting into my flesh. I had to grit my teeth to stop myself from cursing out loud in agony.
The old man suddenly appeared at the rear of the barn, suspiciously scanning the area, even looking in my direction before he disappeared down the side nearest me. He did two laps before eventually going back inside.
Cursing quietly at my cuts and scratches, I crept back to the inconspicuous spot to find him standing over my wife. One foot either side of her vulnerably accessible body. What the hell is he going to do? I wondered.
Any hint of reluctance from my wife, however, and I’d jump this old fella for sure. He looked fit for his age, but I wasn’t about to let him rape my wife. I was more than confident I could over power him if it came to that. I was certain.
The old man slowly got down on his knees with my wife laying through him. He wasn’t applying any pressure to her body but Gemma was gasping through her nose. Still she didn’t protest. He then reached for the top button on her pretty floral dress and I froze. The old man breathed steadily, taking his time with each button that was aligned down the front of her body, prolonging the anticipation. Gemma inhaled sharply and seemed to hold her breath.
The old man’s face remained concentrated and serious, showing little emotion, then Gemma exhaled and her body began to tremble with a familiar nervous excitement. I’d seen it before when we had risky, outdoor sex. I’d have robbed a bank if I could, to pay for her thoughts in that moment.
When the old man eventually released the sixth and final button, just below her navel, he kept the dress together as if it were still buttoned up.
My cock was straining so bad I unashamedly took it out and slowly stroked it. I then watched as the old man held the two sides of my wife’s dress between his thumbs and fingers.
“Do it,” I gasped quietly, losing my shit. Gemma was still yet to protest. I wondered how far she was prepared to let him go before kicking out and begging for my help.
Staring at the front of my wife’s dress for a moment, the old man finally whipped it apart. He nodded and grinned, absorbing the wonderful view of my wife’s big tits.
Words don’t do the memory of it any justice, but it was insanely intense and addictive. Like coming up from a powerful drug, I wanted more and more. I wanted to see my wife continue consenting, but above all, I wanted to see how far this stranger was planning to take us all.
In complete silence, he slid his hands up the sides of my wife’s body to her underboob. She snorted and tensed up. Gemma had so much breast tissue he took his time gently cupping and pushing her big tits up her body.
The old man then opened up the palms of his hands in preparation. I swallowed hard as he moved from my wife’s underboob to the outer curves of her round flesh. He then began caressing there for a few moments, before moving on to feel, fondle and caress her full tits. Gemma responded as if it were me touching her.
Satisfied he had my wife writhing beneath him, the old man remained high on his knees and gently stroked her right nipple. Gemma muffled a gasp, and then another, as he moved to gently stroke the left one.
My wife could no longer contain her excitement when he started circling her large, dark, protruding areolas with the tip of his finger. She finally became audible, groaning muffled sounds from her panty stuffed mouth.
This gentle play lasted only a minute or two before the old man shuffled backwards down my wife’s younger body. He bent his older one forwards and my throat tightened. I watched him open his mouth and bring his tongue out. He then began drawing light circles around Gemma’s nipples, taking his time with each one whilst grinning at her responsive groans.
Gemma’s nipples were so hard they appeared to spring back into place when the old man increased the pleasure and gently flicked them with his tongue. My wife arched her back and her muffled groans became a little bit louder, rising in that corner of the abandoned barn.
With my own selfish lust having rendered me powerless, I squeezed my shaft and watched another man take one of my wife’s ripe teats into his mouth. Knowing Gemma wasn’t in any rush to protest, the old man alternated between her nipples, licking and sucking on them.
Throughout the experience he was paying particular attention to my wife’s physical and audible cues. Everything he did drew the best possible response from her. I learnt a thing or two myself.
Pre-cum was dripping from the tip of my cock but I was unable to let go of myself. The visual and physical stimulation for me was overpowering, so I slowed the strokes right down instead.
While the old man had his mouth focused on my wife’s nipples, he used his hands to gently grope her tits at the same time, and despite all of Gemma’s writhing and muffled moans of pleasure, he didn’t get carried away.
The old fella was good. I had to give him his dues. He knew exactly what he was doing, holding and squeezing Gemma’s tits in a way that kept her electrified, and him able to suck, lick and tease her nipples effortlessly.
Losing track of time I figured he’d been playing and stimulating my wife for a good ten minutes. I wondered again what the hell she must be thinking. After all, she knew it wasn’t me on top of her pleasuring her big tits.
The old man finally removed himself from my wife’s body and stood up. He clicked his knees then stepped back. Gemma was frantic on the floor. Wrists pulling on the rope, breathing heavily through her nose, all with her tits exposed and her excited nipples covered in saliva.
Opening my wife’s legs, the old man got back down on his knees, this time between them. My heart missed several beats and it felt like I couldn’t breathe for a moment. Gemma pretty much spread her legs for the guy and pulled her heels a couple of inches up towards her backside. He grinned at my wife’s wantonness and pushed her dress up around her waist, exposing her shaven mound. I felt nauseous again.
There was no teasing this time. The old man got right in there and ran his tongue along my wife’s inner and outer folds. It sparked an immediate response from her. She moaned into her panties and her blindfolded face looked directly upwards at the barn roof. Even her toes curled.
From my angle it was like staring into the centre of a clock from the eight and nine o’clock positions. I could see everything. Well, everything I needed to see.
Ramping up my wife’s libido, not that it needed it, the old man licked and covered the entire area of her soaking wet cunt. He moved gently but firmly, and repeatedly.
“Um! Um! Um! Um! Um!” Gemma groaned, as he worked a figure eight motion into her lips, clit and opening.
“Um! Um! Um! Um! Um!” my wife groaned again. The rope was digging into her wrists now, I could see the red marks on her flesh.
“Ummmm! Ummmm! Ummmm!” she groaned louder and longer, using her thighs and hips to shift her pelvis closer towards the old man’s mouth.
He already had his head between her legs and his tongue buried inside her cunt, but like me, Gemma was desperate to cum. She loves to grab the back of my head and pull my face hard into her pussy when I go down on her. I knew this would be torture for her, not being able to use her hands. A pleasurably intense torture.
“Um! Um! Um!” Gemma’s body bounced on the blanket. The old man concentrated his tongue on just her clit and slid two fingers inside my wife. “Ummmm!’ Ummmm!” she cried into her panties.
It didn’t take long. I watched utterly dumbfounded as a stranger brought my bound, blindfolded and gagged wife to a climax.
“Ummmmmmm! Um! Um! Ummmmmm!”
My wife’s muffled groans filled the barn as the old man moved quickly. Resting on his knees he removed his t-shirt and revealed an old but stocky body. His chest was covered in thick grey hair and he had a fading tattoo of an eagle on his left shoulder.
The old man then unzipped his walking trousers and pushed them down below his knees. He shuffled deeper between my wife’s legs and I saw his cock. It was thick with grey pubes around the base of the shaft. Seven inches, maybe pushing eight. It didn’t matter. It still looked bigger than mine by a good inch or two. I gulped.
The old man didn’t need to exert much energy in lifting Gemma’s legs. She clearly assisted him by pulling her legs up to rest them on his shoulders. On his hands and knees, supporting the weight of my wife’s legs, all I could see was his thick cock angled to enter my wife, and a pair of hairy, saggy balls hanging down between his legs.
I swallowed hard a few times more with my eyes transfixed between his legs. He adjusted himself until he was upright then drove into my wife’s cunt with one solid thrust.
“Ummmmmm!” Gemma groaned, similar to before, only this time it sounded much deeper and satisfying.
The old man then brought his arms round the outside of my wife’s legs to grab and squeeze her tits. Gemma continually groaned out of her mind as he started fucking her hard and fast. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. This old man, this stranger, fucking my young wife with the stamina of a much younger man.
Gemma was struggling against the rope again, bucking her hips as best she could. Then, a white substance I’d never seen before, began to froth around the base of his shaft, every time he went balls deep inside my wife’s cunt. The old man literally smashed my wife for a solid five minutes.
Inevitably, Gemma experienced her second orgasm, which edged me much closer to my own. But there was no time to rest where this guy was concerned. He lowered Gemma’s right leg to the ground but kept hold of her left one. Turning her pelvis slightly to the side, her body followed.
Holding her left leg high in the air, the old man positioned his cock against my wife’s cunt for a second time. Another solid thrust and he was quickly fucking her again. Each time he drove into Gemma’s body her tits wobbled violently, and I knew his thick cock was going deeper than before.
My wife was squealing through her panties as the old man’s pubic bone repeatedly slammed up against her clit. Gemma didn’t normally climax more than once from penetrative intercourse, especially if she had climaxed during foreplay, but this was anything but normal.
The sounds of their fucking was wet and noisy, until the old man slammed into Gemma and remained buried deep inside her, right up to the hilt. He then started making slow circular movements with his hips, giving my wife deep penetration as well as maximum stimulation on her clit.
My wife was soon sobbing through her third climax. I thought I was going to cum any second. I was worried that if didn’t I’d end up having a stroke at the young age of thirty.
Lowering my wife’s leg to the ground, she gradually came down from her high, but then the old man quickly turned her over onto her front. Gemma moaned in pain as her wrists crossed over. The old stallion grabbed her hips and yanked her arse up in the air, but her stomach and tits were still on the floor.
Kneeling behind my wife now, in between her legs, the old man positioned his cock at her swollen pussy-lips and slapped her right arse cheek. I continued stroking my cock as I watched him mount my wife for what surely would be the final ride.
Ploughing into my wife from behind with ease, the old man pulled back and drove a little harder into her. Back and forth he fucked my wife slowly but hard and deep, making sure his motions caused his balls to bang up against her clit again.
Gemma was instantly moaning and doing her best to push her body backwards to meet her strangers thrusts. He then gritted his teeth, grabbed her hips and started fucking her as hard as he could.
“Um! Um! Um! Um!” my wife groaned, but then suddenly her audible groans became clearer. “Ah! Ah! Ah! Yes! Ah! Harder! Ah!”
The position naturally had her head facing the ground. In the midst of getting fucked hard and fast, my wife’s panties had fallen from of her mouth. She was now able to express herself freely, and express herself freely she did.
“Oh my God! I’m gonna cum again! Ah! Ah! Yes! Ah! Ah! Harder!”
My wife groaned so loudly I felt my balls tighten up. Watching and hearing my beautiful, sexy wife living out her fantasy was erotically gripping. Then the old man hissed and grunted, letting my wife know he was getting close.
Gemma screamed and rocked her body backwards until she stopped and used all of her strength to keep her arse in the air. “Ah!
Ah! Ah! Fuck your big! Ah! Ah! Yes! Ah! Make me cum!” Ah! Ah! Harder!”
“Grrrrrr!” The old man grunted whilst seriously pounding my wife from behind. His body met the back of my wife with such force the slapping sounds echoed around the barn.
My legs started shaking and I was trying to catch my breath as I listened and watched my wife explode into her fourth and final orgasm. Then it was the old man’s turn. He grabbed Gemma’s hips and rammed into her body. He held her firm and kept himself buried deep inside her well fucked cunt, balls resting against her clit.
I’ll never forget the sounds of his animal like grunts, or the contorted look on his old face. He was sweating and groaning up at the roof. Eyes closed as he emptied the contents of his balls inside my wife, filling her with his seed.
“Ahhhhhh! he growled, satisfied, before pulling out of her cunt.
Thick gloopy cum then appeared and started running out of her, before it dripped away from her battered lips on to the blanket
“Uhhhhmph,” Gemma sighed, collapsing front down. More cum oozed from her body.
Not a single word spoken since he found my wife, the old man pulled his walking trousers up and his t-shirt on, while she rolled over onto her back. My wife’s pussy was ruined, swollen and glistening with a strangers load leaking from it.
The old man grinned and cheekily picked up her white lace panties from the floor. He then stuffed them inside his trouser pocket and slung his rucksack over his shoulder. He was finally ready to leave, but before he left, he spoke some words for the first and only time.
“I’ve finished fucking your wife now! I hope you enjoyed it as much as she did!” he shouted around the barn, then left chuckling to himself.
As soon as the old man had gone I came running into the barn to check on my wife. She appeared to be in a state of shock. I asked if she was ok.
“I need you to fuck me, Tim,” she sighed. “Did you watch us?”
“Yes! You were incredible. Are you not mad at me?”
“You gave me my fantasy. How could I be mad at?” Gemma spoke a little dreamy.
Leaving my wife in the state the old man had left her, I pulled down my jeans and spread her legs. Gemma moaned as I feasted on her tits and sunk my cock inside her soiled cunt.
Forget sloppy seconds, I thought, whilst fucking my wife and sucking on her nipples. It felt more like silky seconds. Gemma’s pussy was super smooth inside. Having been stretched by a bigger cock, my smaller one didn’t seem to arouse my wife as much as I hoped, but she moaned and told me she loved me.
The mere fact that we’d spontaneously and unintentionally fulfilled her fantasy, and I was fucking my wife with another mans cum inside her, sent me over the edge within minutes.
I simply couldn’t hold out longer than two or three minutes. With a deep grunt I gritted my teeth and shot my load deep inside my wife’s greedy cunt. Probably not as deep as the old man, but I didn’t care or feel jealous. It felt amazing to finally empty my balls inside my wife, especially knowing I was adding my cum to a strangers.
On the drive home my wife slept. She was knackered, bless her. That night in bed after we showered, my wife asked me something.
“You know that thing we did in the barn today,” she blushed. “Does that make you a cuckold and me a cuckoldress?”
“I guess it does,” I chuckled.
My wife grinned. “Soooo… we can do it again sometime?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely!!!