Catherine

And he withdrew his cock -- but for only a moment, then he forced himself back in again, even further this time. Catherine groaned at the slight discomfort she felt from his large penis stretching her open, a feeling totally new to her.

"Come on, man, let 'er go quick!" Mike whispered urgently.

"Fuck'sake...she's gotta nice little cunt, I tell ya," Robbo muttered crudely, pushing himself back in several more times, and getting deeper each time as Catherine's juice slickened-up his length, further reducing the resistance of her tight passageway.

Catherine was unaware of course, but as Mike moved past the table toward the back door, he could not help but look down briefly at his friend's shiny pole disappearing into her pussy -- her hairless outer-lips straining around the girth of Robbo's heavily-veined penis.

"Fuck sake, Robbo, you've got a dong on ya!" Mike exclaimed in awe.

And didn't Catherine know that, the pleasurable feeling she was trying to resist, was bordering on pain as Robbo continued to fuck her.

Catherine heard the car doors closing...any second now and John would be walking in the front door!

"Get it out of me...quick!" she hissed with increased urgency, "I can hear them walking toward the front door!"

But Robbo was momentarily lost in ecstasy and continued to fuck her for several more moments. Her silky passageway caressed every inch of his cock like a thousand tongues -- another couple of minutes and he knew he would have no doubt blown his load.

"Hurry!" Catherine pleaded desperately; she knew John would probably kill both of them if he walked in on them now.

"Aw, fuck it!" Robbo groaned, and just as quickly as it had happened, she felt him withdraw his penis, and then releasing his grip on her buttocks, he quickly moved away.

"Our little secret, Cath...alright?" Mike said to her shakily, as he handed her back her bikini bottoms he'd just picked up off the floor.

Still lying face down over the table, her thighs parted and her voluptuous bottom still pointing upward invitingly, she had nodded her head in agreement.

Catherine recovered some of her wits in a few precious seconds and straightened up from the table. She almost slipped on the wet floor while trying to replace her bikinis, just as Robbo, struggling to pull up his shorts, scurried after Mike who had shot out the back door only seconds earlier. Her heart beating rapidly against her chest, she fumbled with her bikini and heard the two men as they plunged boisterously back into the pool!

Luckily, John must have locked the house when he had left earlier, and Catherine was given several more moments to straighten up while she heard him juggling with his keys in the door lock. When her husband did finally enter the kitchen with an armful of groceries, he had found her on her hands and knees, wiping up pool water from the floor.

John had given her backside a playful smack and asked her what she was doing. With her heart still racing, Catherine had told him the phone had rung and she had run for it from the pool, not having time to grab a towel. She remembered he hadn't noticed the kitchen floor was wet on both sides of the table -- or did he seem to pick-up on a couple of the larger footprints that she had not yet cleaned up, which was of course much to her relief -- nor had he detected the blushed appearance of his very nervous wife -- or worse -- the musky smell of sex that she was almost certain would have been obvious if not for a vase of scented roses on the side-board.

Robbo's impressive cock had been the first one to enter her other than her husband's since just before she was married, and Catherine could only guess what may have happened if John had not returned when he did. Although it was pretty obvious Robbo had probably intended on going 'all the way' -- she wondered if their old friend, Mike, would have tried to have his turn with her too!

During the barbeque, Catherine had more or less kept well out of the way of John's friends as they continued to drink. She had also replaced her sarong that she had worn earlier in the day over her bikinis in an unusual attempt at modesty. Even so, as darkness descended, once or twice Robbo had run his hand over her backside when John was not looking -- whispering to her how hot he thought she was -- and how he wanted to finish what he had started with her, even having the cheek to invite her back in the pool for a swim -- of which she 'politely' declined!

She had felt more embarrassed over the incident than anything, oddly enough, not dwelling too much on the fact that she was almost raped!

The following day, John had left early for golf, hangover and all, and mid-morning Catherine was surprised by a knock on the front door only moments after she had stepped out of the shower. With just a small bath towel around her -- totally inappropriate for the upper-middle class suburb they lived in -- Catherine had opened the door and was startled to see both Mike and Robbo standing there, both looking very sheepish!

She was of course grateful the wire security door was locked.

But she had the visit all wrong -- they had not come around to pick-up where they had left off the night before -- no -- they had both come to apologise -- and quite profusely too. Mike had even brought around a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and Robbo had a large box of expensive-looking chocolates for her.

While standing there clutching the bath towel to her chest with one hand, Catherine listened to their bumbling pleadings for forgiveness for several minutes almost amusingly, before she had nodded her acquiescence, asking them to leave their gifts beside the front door next to the mat -- as she was still a bit unsure of them both and did not think it wise to unlock the door to accept the gifts personally.

But then she had the last laugh -- standing there watching as they turned to walk back down the pathway, Catherine waited till they were some ten metres away, then with her free hand, she unlocked the wire door and stepped out onto the porch.

"Thanks for the gifts, boys," she called out to them.

As they turned around toward her -- Catherine spun to face the gifts on the step, and spreading her legs well apart so she could hold the spring-loaded wire door open -- she quite deliberately bent over to pick up both the lovely flowers and the box of chocolates. Catherine was well aware that the back of her towel had ridden up her buttocks -- and she lingered there just a little longer, pretending to admire the flowers. Of course, without a hand holding her towel anymore, it swung open at the front, and as she stood back up, Catherine feigned surprise when it fell to the ground at her feet!

Catherine looked back over her shoulder at the two dumbfounded men standing motionless on the path staring back at her, with both their mouths agape.

"Oops-a-daisy!" Catherine said in mock-horror.

"I'll...I'll get the door for ya, Cath!" Robbo called excitedly, as he started back up the path, getting the hint.

Even though it was way too déjà-vu-ish for Catherine, she stood there with her back to the fast approaching men for several seconds, completely naked. Her hands full, she flicked the towel inside with her toe, and then stepped back inside, letting the wire door close behind her. Then without haste, she placed her gifts on the small side table in the entranceway -- just as Robbo walked back up the steps.

"Um...are you sure you're alright?" Robbo enquired, as he stared at her through the mesh.

"Oh, I think I'll be right, thankyou," Catherine said matter-of-factly, as she bent to pick up the towel.

When they were barely a metre away, Catherine, raising her eyebrows and smiling, said, "Bye boys," -- then shut the main front door firmly and locked it -- laughing wickedly at her own mirth!

She was still a tease!

Still standing in the entranceway, she peered through the peephole in the door and watched the two men leave, her fingers diddling her moistened clitoris vigorously. Her pussy tingled with the excitement of such blatant exhibitionism -- something that was so much more than she had ever done before and she was almost breathless with the experience! When Catherine could no longer see them, she went straight into her bedroom and threw herself down on the rumpled sheets of the unmade bed. Spreading her legs wide, her hands made a bee-line for her quivering, hungry pussy -- and she masturbated furiously -- her first orgasm upon her in a matter of moments.

Catherine never saw Robbo again after that -- left the state according to John. But Mike still came around occasionally -- and a knowing glance between the two of them is sometimes exchanged -- but nothing said.

Suddenly a loud bike pulled up next to the other Harleys and instantly brought Catherine back to reality. A smile had crossed her face at the wicked memory of that event last summer -- one of which she often found herself fantasising about when she was alone too.

She could not see her friend Pam's car anywhere and looking down at the clock on the dash of the car, Catherine realised she had arrived some fifteen minutes or so earlier than what she had expected. Not really wanting to go in on her own with a bunch of bikers inside, she thought she would ring Pam to see how far away she was.

"Blast!" she exclaimed to herself when she picked up her mobile and noticed the battery was flat.

She could not even go to a public phone to ring her friend, because like so many people these days, Pam's phone number was only saved in her phone, and not committed to memory or anywhere else for that matter.

Catherine let out a sigh, she had waited long enough and she looked back over at the pub, she could just make out a jukebox playing an old Bob Sieger tune -- it seemed to fit the locale, she thought.

"Here goes," she said, as she opened the car door and swung her legs out to stand on the dark road.

Briskly walking over to the other side of the road, Catherine brushed down her dress to try and increase the length a bit more. She felt quite inappropriately dressed for the bar she was about to enter -- jeans and a jacket would have been far more suitable, she thought to herself.

As she looked through the door she noticed several of the patrons watching her. Then taking a deep breath, she pushed open one half of the glass-paned double-doors and stepped inside. The din of voices seemed to halve for a moment as some of the occupants turned to check-out the newcomer. Catherine stood at the threshold for a moment longer as her eyes adjusted to the soft light of the hazy room.

It was your fairly typical watering-hole; a number of stools lined up along the long, straight, wooden bar, various liquor bottles sitting along glass shelves reflecting in the mirrored wall behind them. Looking around, she noticed a few men playing pool on two three-quarter sized tables in the centre of the room, and over against the other wall was the usual assortment of tall, round tables and high-chairs made of chromed tubing and black plastic. Catherine guessed there were only around a dozen or so people there, most of them men, and most of them looked like bikers. Of course, she could not see her friend Pam anywhere.

"What'll it be, miss?" the craggy middle-aged bartender asked her as she walked up to the bar.

"A Baileys please," Catherine said a little nervously.

"Sure," the bartender replied. Trevor had worked at the Railway Inn for nearly five years, he had seen all sorts walk into his bar and the dolled-up blond who sat on the stool in front of him as he prepared her drink, was almost as unremarkable as many others he had seen enter the establishment at different times -- or so he thought at first.

He eyed her inquisitively for a moment trying to guess her story. At first glance, with the way she was dressed, Trevor had thought she was probably a hooker. But then he thought she lacked the confidence of a lady of the night, or the hard look they mostly had. The other give away, he notice shrewdly, were the bands of gold and the cluster of small diamonds on her wedding finger -- he figured her for someone just passing who may have been waiting for her husband to arrive.

"Haven't seen you around 'ere before," he commented, handing the glass to Catherine.

"Hmm," Catherine took a sip of her drink, "first time...meeting a friend here."

"I see -- a fellow?" Trevor enquired, as he handed her change to her. Normally he would not ask such a personal question, but never-the-less she seemed unperturbed by his probing.

"No!" Catherine said, holding up her left hand and fluttering her wedding rings.

Trevor smiled, "Sorry."

"A girlfriend of mine, you may know her, Pam? She says she comes in here a bit sometimes."

Catherine went on to describe Pam to the barman and she thought he seemed to know her friend. Before she had a chance to ask him if he had seen her that evening he excused himself politely and moved down the bar to serve one of the bikers.

Catherine looked over at the biker as he stood leaning against the bar. He had longish, dark-brown hair and a neat beard that was starting to grey; his arms were bare and were almost covered with un-recognisable tattoos. He looked to be over six feet tall and slim-waisted. Not her type at all, she thought as she raised her glass and took another long sip.

Catherine watched Trevor place four schooners of beer in front of the biker, murmuring something to him discreetly. The biker nodded then turned his head to look directly at her -- catching her eye instantly and smiling at her.

Almost blushing with embarrassment at being caught checking him out, Catherine smiled back demurely and nodded. She thought he had a nice smile and a surprisingly friendly face -- his blue eyes looked clear and honest with small crows-feet at each corner. She decided he was not all that bad looking -- in an uncouth sort of way.

The biker smiled at her a little longer, and winked! Then he clasped his big hands around the four glasses and casually walked over to his friends by one of the pool tables and handed them out. Catherine looked away quickly when he glanced in her direction again.

No sooner had she finished her Baileys than Trevor had another one lined up for her.

"That's from Jed, with complements," Trevor volunteered.

Catherine raised her eyebrows in surprise, "Who?"

"That fellow I just served, he said you had a nice smile," Trevor answered with a sly grin.

"Does he?" Catherine picked up the glass, and turning slightly, she looked back over toward where Jed stood. Almost on cue, the biker met her gaze and smiled, raising his glass in salute, and then took a large gulp. Catherine also raised her glass in salute, mouthed 'thankyou', and drunk some of the creamy liquid.

Several minutes later, while polishing glasses, Trevor watched Jed saunter over toward the blond and strike up a conversation with her. Without being asked, he replenished both their drinks and smiled inwardly, he had seen Jed in action many times -- he knew the rings would not stop him, more of a challenge if anything, he was good!

Nearly an hour later -- the bar had filled up even more, but still no sign of the blond woman's friend, Trevor noticed. Between serving customers, he had watched her occasionally as she attempted to play pool with Jed, her short, black-dress riding up her shapely thighs each time she bent for a shot, generously exposing the tops of her stockings with just the hint of a smooth round buttock coming into view too. She seemed to be enjoying the attention Jed and his group of friends where giving her too.

Trevor had watched Jed give the blond some coaching during a few difficult shots -- that no doubt had been intentionally set up by the biker -- while standing very close behind her as she lent over. Trevor thought she looked quite relaxed -- and she ought to be too after six Baileys or so, he mused.

* * *

John was now beside himself. Forty minutes before he had received a call from Catherine's friend Pam telling him she had broken down on the way to meet her for drinks. Pam told him she had tried to call Catherine but said her call had gone straight to message-bank and guessed her phone was either flat or turned off. Pam had given John the name of the bar they were to meet at and suggested he call them to cancel their evening as she was not too sure how long she was going to have to wait for vehicle assistance.

Of course, John had acted nonchalant and thought he would wait for a few minutes before he tried to contact his wife.

There were a couple of "Railway Inns" listed and after a few unsuccessful attempts; John eventually got to speak to someone who had seen his wife.

"Yep, I know the lady you're talking about, pretty blond, short black dress, friendly like," the barman had told John over the phone.

"Can you put her on, please?" John asked him.

"Love too...but you've just missed her, if only you'd rung a couple of minutes ago," the barman said.

"She's gone?" John felt relieved.

"Think so, just left with one of our regulars."

"What!" John exclaimed, "Who?"

"Don't worry, he's a nice enough bloke, fellow named Jed....maybe they've just gone outside for a smoke," the barman said reassuringly.

"My wife doesn't smoke!" John growled down the phone, "Look, if she comes back in could you pass on a message?" John asked, and then went on to explain the situation to the barman about Catherine's friend, Pam.

"Look, I can't guarantee anything, mister. Hey, does your wife like bikes?" the barman asked him.

"No...why?" John asked, his annoyance rising rapidly.

"See, I think I just heard Jed's bike start up...yep, it's Jed's bike alright, fucking noisy thing it is, shakes the bloody windows....looks like your wife might be going for a ride!"

"What? Can you please run out there and stop them?" John demanded angrily.

There was a pause for a minute or so before John heard the barman's voice again.

"Sorry...too late, yep, looks like Jed's taking your wife for a ride. Look, I can pass on your message for ya when they get back...but if I know Jed; they may not be back for a couple of hours or so," the barman said almost contemptuously, "bit of a lady's man, our Jed."

John slammed the phone down in seething anger.

"Fucking lady's man, hey!" he spat.

John quickly picked up the phone again and rung for a taxi. The cab company said they were very busy and there may be a lengthy wait. Frustrated beyond belief, John paced impatiently and waited, fidgeting with the spare keys to the Corolla that he thought he might need when he finally arrived at the Railway Inn.

"Why would she want to go for a ride on a bike with some creep?" John asked himself.

* * *

Catherine had never been on a Harley before; Jed had told her it was a classic, a Panhead or something weird like that. He had grabbed a spare helmet off one of the other bikes out in front of the bar for her and had helped her do it up before blasting off down the dark street.

She was not too sure how the biker had managed to cajole her into going for a ride, but he had, and Catherine thought of her husband and wondered what he would think if he ever found out that she had accepted a ride on one of those "Harleys" with a stranger.

Thinking of John made her angry again, "Prick!" Catherine grumbled to herself as she thought about what he had said to her before she had left home that evening.

They cruised around a few blocks for several minutes before coming to a set of traffic lights that were red. A car full of hoons pulled up next to them and wolf-whistled. Catherine smiled back at them, and blew them a kiss, she knew her dress had ridden up her thighs -- no doubt well past the tops of her black stockings and when Jed gunned the bike away as the lights turned green, Catherine could feel the cool night air caress her bare buttocks as her dress blew up even higher. The thought of the young men in the car behind them brought out the exhibitionist in her, and she made no attempt to keep the hem of her dress from lifting up past her bare buttocks. She hoped they had a good look!