Other Men's Wives

Her husband had seen this little exchange but the expression that it brought to his face was sulky rather than annoyed. Possibly a year or two younger than his wife he was about my height but with a slimmer more wiry frame, however the muscles on his bare arms suggested that a life of manual labour had left him generally pretty fit. The woman, whose name I knew to be Marie, moved unnecessarily near to me while indicating that I should sit down and during this moment of close proximity I was assailed by her scent. Owing nothing to commercial artifice the smell was of warm female flesh spiced with a hint of the aroma from between her legs and carried upon a mixture of fresh bread, onions, hay and horse manure. My head began to pound with desire. Dropping my gaze to avoid her laughing eyes I saw for the first time that beneath the floor length peasant skirt, her feet were unshod and urgently in need of a wash.

"Pour our guest a mug of tea Tom," Marie ordered imperiously but then in a different tone accompanied by a coquettish wink, assured me that they had just brewed up. The mug that he handed to me was not exactly clean but the tea was the best I had ever tasted and I wondered what I had missed in a lifetime of using tea-bags. Everything that the woman said had some level of innuendo while her husband grew more and more surly. If we had been alone, with this encouragement, I would have come on strong. However in the presence of a husband who was obviously unhappy with the situation and might possibly be able to beat the shit out of me, I felt that prudence was called for. Purely as a defensive measure, I studied the heavy dark wood beams from which hams, herbs and such hung in abundance but Marie was not prepared to let me get away with this for long and lifted her foot to rest on my knee. Startled I glanced down to find myself looking down a long tanned leg to be faced with the inescapable fact that a bra was not the only item of underwear that she had neglected to wear.

This was too much. I jumped unsteadily to my feet muttering that had had to get started. Marie immediately said she would accompany me but I protested saying that I usually conducted inspections walking round by myself. "This place can be dangerous if you're not used to it," she said, blatantly admitting that the farm contravened at least the safety part of the Health and Safety regulations. At the door she asked me to hang on while she put on some shoes then crouched in front of me to do so. Looking down I had a perfect view of her lush ripe breasts and the uniform tan told me that the farm gave opportunity for sun-bathing au naturelle. I shall never know how I managed to walk stiff legged down those steps without falling.

When Tom started to follow us across the yard, Marie pointedly asked him if he hadn't got anything to do, reinforcing the question with the assurance that she was capable of showing me round without his help. Her husband winced at her words but doggedly insisted that he would tag along. He was only causing extra torment to himself because his presence did not inhibit her at all. Most of the doorways were very narrow and at every one Marie found reason to squeeze past me. On one such occasion, as I luxuriated in the feel of her tits against my chest, very deliberately she grasped my cock and gave it a squeeze, looking into my eyes as she did so and pushing the pink tip of her tongue tantalisingly between her lips. Guiltily I glanced at Tom hoping that he hadn't noticed but he was watching like a hawk, not missing a thing. At the next doorway she reversed and pushed past with her back to me but half way she stopped and rubbed her hot buttocks up and down against my erection. Had I been taking notes the whole damn place needed to be condemned but my mind was consumed by lust, fanned by Marie's provocative behaviour and only tempered by her husband's malevolent eyes boring into me.

By the time we started to return to the farmhouse I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was going to fuck her. The trouble was that Tom knew it too. At the bottom of the steps he crowded up beside us provoking Marie to tell him sternly, "The boar needs putting with Connie. That's your job for this afternoon - hadn't you better get on with it. "

Tom reddened and muttered, "I'll do that tomorrow."

"You'll do it today and tomorrow as well for insurance. The sow is ready now and I don't want to miss the chance of her conceiving - and if the stupid animal can't get it in by himself then you better give him a hand," she ordered. Her husband slumped and turned quickly away, I think to hide the tears in his eyes. We watched him trudge half way across the yard then Marie hoisted her skirt above her waist and preceded me up the stairs, the round globes of her buttocks swaying temptingly and with my eyes fixed on the tuft of brown hair showing between her thighs. As she opened the door I tore my eyes away and looked back to see Tom standing at the corner of a building unhappily watching us. "I don't know what has got into my husband today," she said laughing. "He usually loves to see the animals screwing - you might say that it's his hobby."

I didn't reply because she knew damn well that Tom was bothered by what was going to get into her - and just at that moment I felt a small twinge of pity for him. Lacking response, Marie said gaily, "Enough of him, I've got something to show you inside that will need a lot of really close inspection," and immediately we were through the door she put her words into action by peeling the dress over her head and throwing it casually to one side. She walked to the kitchen table, turned to perch with her buttocks on the edge and then spread her legs as wide as they would go. I ran forward fumbling with my zip, feeling that if I did not release my cock quickly it would burst through the material of my jeans. Marie had placed her juicy cunt at exactly the right level allowing my rigidly stiff prick to plunge home like an arrow shot from a bow.

After such a sexual build-up I challenge anybody to exercise their usual self control. Very quickly I realised that I would be unable to hold back to enjoy the long shag that I had hoped. Marie seemed aware of this and when my breathing quickened she whispered urgently in my ear, I want you to squirt it down my throat." It needed an iron will to pull out and step back but Marie was in action just a split second behind me, dropping on her knees and engulfing my cock deep within her mouth just in time to swallow to torrent of hot semen bursting forth from my balls.

If felt bloody marvellous but at the same time I had a sense of disappointment that it was all over so quickly. But Marie continued to suck long after she had milked the last bit of spunk out of my wilting member. She started doing unimaginably nice things with her tongue and her hands were teasingly active, tickling and squeezing, with the result that I felt a surge of new life in my dick exceedingly quickly. I pulled her down beside me on the rug, swivelling round to get my head between her legs and satisfying a craving that had started when her dirty foot had rested revealingly on my knee. My expectation was more than satisfied. Her cunt may not have been as ripe as Maude's memorable hole but it was far more basic than any found on my many intervening women. My idea of heaven would be to lie thus for ever, lapping that intimate nectar into eternity.

Despite the fact that I made her cum with my tongue, Marie had other ideas, making it plain that she wanted me to mount her again then, as I slid inside her she urged, "Make it good. Give me the kind of fucking I deserve Mr Inspector Man." I was far from loath to comply and we started to shag with gusto. The woman was pure raw unadulterated sex and that was even before we heard the noise from the pigpens. The sound was a long high pitched squeal and had I not known better would have assumed that the unfortunate animal was having its throat cut. This auditory evidence of pig passion inspired Marie to frantic action, grinding herself against me with legs locked around my waist and fingernails scoring bloody tracks across my back. The orgasm when it came was bigger by an order of magnitude than any before experienced by a woman lying under me and the decibel count of her cries exceeded even those of that young satisfied sow. It has to be put on record that this was the best fuck of my life. It ended then because unable to resist the rhythmic grip of her vaginal muscles my cum gushed out to fill her thirsting cunt.

As we lay resting in post coital euphoria Marie would keep talking about Tom when I would have preferred to leave her husband well out mind. "He's an odd sort of guy," she said. I recently caught him tossing off Rex the boar. Tom claimed that he was doing a feasibility study on artificial insemination which seemed reasonable except that it doesn't explain why he had to take his own clothes off to do it and anyway, he likes watching animals fuck too much to want a different system. I used to like watching as well until I got too envious seeing those magnificent cocks at work. Sometimes I think that I could be tempted - if we had a big hound then I just might give it a try but somehow I just don't fancy the sheepdog."

"Wouldn't your husband have something to say about that," I had to ask even though half guessing the answer.

"He doesn't have much to say about anything when I have set my mind to it. Actually I think he'd like it - he'd certainly prefer for me to have animal cocks up me rather than the human variety."

I was about to ask another question on this theme when the returning sound of Tom's boots returning across the yard galvanised me into action. I scrambled into my jeans and was hastily buttoning my short as he started to slowly climb the steps. Marie got up of the rug as well but stood holding the dress loosely in her hand. The poor bugger actually felt obliged to knock on the door. "You can come in Tom," she told him sweetly leaving the 'we've finished' part of the sentence unsaid. It was not until he had entered the room and seen her nakedness that she let the dress fall casually over her head. "How did it go? Did our Rex make her little piggy heart pound with passion? Did his stiff prick make her squirm with pleasure?" Marie asked, the questions being a very obvious allusion for what we had been doing. When her husband, painfully aware of the parallel, gazed mutely at the floor she went on "Of course I do know the answer because little Connie's squeals of pleasure carried all the way up here." Left unspoken was the question, 'Could my squeals of pleasure be heard down there?' From Tom's face I knew that they could.

Even though I had thoroughly enjoyed the sex without being troubled by conscience I now felt awkward in the presence of her husband. There had been an extra kick to fucking her knowing that he hated it so much but I could not help feeling somewhat sorry for the poor sod - especially with her being so determined to rub his nose it. For these reasons and because there was nothing to keep me, I made my excuses and left. I gave the farm a clean bill of health. I don't honestly know if this was corruption because no deal had been struck or even suggested and the whole encounter had been passed of as being the spontaneous result of mutual physical attraction. In contrast, a few weeks later sex was specifically offered as inducement for me to turn a blind eye.

Even approaching this farm I could see that it was badly run down and the first thing that met my eyes in the farm yard was a very old decrepit tractor with much of the engine dismantled and lying on the ground underneath. The farmer I placed as being nearly sixty. He was a tall thin man with exhausted worried features. His wife was sitting on a chair in front of him, incongruously with the upper part of her dress undone displaying bra-covered breasts that had seen better days. She had a very careworn face but one that still bore signs of one time prettiness. I estimated her to be around fifty years old but she might conceivably have been quite a bit younger. The woman was uncomfortably aware of the revealing state of her attire and kept automatically pulling the edges of the dress together, only to remember and again open her chest to my eyes before gripping the arms of the chair hard. The farmer coughed to attract my attention and I was surprised to find that there were tears in his eyes.

"The farm is in a bad way, I can't deny that but if you close it down it will be the end of us," he said. "We wondered if you could be prevailed upon not to submit an adverse report. I have no money to offer you but..." At this point he paused and had to control his voice before continuing, "But Marie my wife will entertain you this afternoon while I go into town." Having made the offer his hands fell to grip her shoulders reassuringly but with knuckles showing white. Marie tried to look coy but I could read the terror in her eyes. The man had spoken with dignity - or as much dignity as there can be when prostituting the cunt of a much loved wife. It had to be their last recourse in face of total disaster.

Despite possible impressions to the contrary I am not a complete bastard. I didn't fancy the woman (although I have been with some real dogs in my time and could have squeezed some pleasure out of her body) but the plight of the couple having reached me; I had no intention of condemning their farm. The trouble was that I could not leave them knowing that the let off was due to pity and nor could I let my rejection of the wife's charms impugn her desirability. "I'd love to," I said, "- but unfortunately I only called to say that I have a suspected case of BSE that I need check out immediately. I'll have to sign the farm off for now and possibly I might take up your offer at the next inspection in four years - but perhaps you will have corrected any outstanding faults by then." The look of relief on their faces put me on top of the world and that feeling lasted until the weekend when, nursing a stiff prick with nowhere to stick it, I cursed myself for being a cavalier fool.

I had it made. My salary was good, the work was easy and imbued a 'God complex', and there were the unofficial gratuities and plenty of chances for the other - so why did I muck it all up? If you must know I broke the primary rule of the profligate - the one about not defecating in front of your own portal.

My immediate boss Henry was the large, taciturn, self contained type. I liked the guy well enough in passing but for longer proximity I quickly ran out of things to say, the lack of common interests making prolonged conversation difficult. Soon after getting the job I heard that he had a much younger wife - someone said that she was more than twenty years his junior. Consequently I was looking forward to her promised appearance at the Xmas party but she failed to materialise. One morning I was sitting at my desk getting through the customary paperwork before setting out to do an inspection, when an absolute vision entered the office and walked towards me. She had the face of an angel framed by very blonde curly hair. Her tight fitting bodice clung like a second skin and was cut to reveal breasts that were mouth- wateringly ripe. The flimsy skirt was only micro length and swayed above acres of golden leg leading down to high heeled sandals. I think that my mouth dropped open in the classical cartoon manner. Our eyes met and she turned her head when passing my desk so that our gaze remained locked until the last possible moment. From the way that she marched into Henry's office without knocking I knew that she was a relative but almost certainly had to be his daughter.

My work done I should have left the office but hung about hoping for another glimpse of that fantasy figure. I was rewarded when Henry brought her to my desk to say, "I don't think that you have met my wife Lauren." Lost for words I just stuck out my hand. Lauren did not speak either but the look that her brown eyes sent me made my toes curl.

Now there was no question of leaving the office until I had seen her again. I was pretty sure that there was something there for me if only I could manufacture the opportunity. For the next twenty minutes I sat working out different stupid plans that might give the chance to speak to her alone. So engrossed in these mental machinations was I that I failed to hear her leave Henry's private office and did not know she was there until those gorgeous legs went past my desk - I think on the way to the loo. A few steps in front of my desk she stopped and then bent right over, pretending to adjust the strap on her shoe. She was wearing a brief white thong - and believe me, there was virtually nothing left to the imagination. I swear that but for the presence of pants the erection that the sight of her nether regions caused must have lifted my desk at least a foot from the ground. My obvious opportunity was to intercept her as she returned. I sat prepared but nearing my desk she gave me the look again and ran her tongue lasciviously over her lips. The resultant tornado of desire that overcame me destroyed any ability to chat and by the time that I had recovered my senses, Lauren was once more ensconced with her husband.

I feared that when she again left the office Henry would escort her past my desk precluding any chance of speaking to her. With this in mind I gathered my stuff and went out to the car but only drove as far as a lay-by some 100 yards from the car park. Once there I waited, keeping a constant scrutiny in my rear-view mirror. Sure enough after ten minutes a small red sports car convertible with the hood down turned out of the car park and headed along the road towards me. I had hoped that a wave would encourage her to stop or failing that, I intended to pull out and follow her. Both plans seemed doomed to failure because, at the first opportunity, Lauren must have floored the accelerator for she hurtled past like a bat out of hell. In desperation I tried to follow but with a sinking heart because I had no chance of keeping up if she maintained that speed. She must have noticed me in her mirror because suddenly and unexpectedly she slowed right down. After closing up behind, I saw her eyes in the mirror and I do believe that I saw her smile.

I had expected her to stop when opportunity arose but she kept going at a steady pace, although checking after every roundabout and intersection that I was still behind her. Eventually she pulled down the drive of a large house and I turned in behind. Getting out of the car I found her smiling broadly at me. "Now whatever can have brought you this way kind Sir," she asked.

My mind filled with possibilities, just the sight of her combined with her forthright manner left me rather tongue-tied. "Back at the office we didn't get a chance to speak and I would rather like to talk to you," I stuttered.

My ineptitude seemed to amuse her. "If that's all you want," she grinned. "I must warn you that I do like to do my chatting lying down."

A touch of the old repartee snapped in. "Lying where?" I queried. "On the grass, on the floor or even on the kitchen table?"

"Anywhere at a pinch but preferably on a nice soft bed," Lauren told me bluntly.

Like an eager puppy, I followed her down a dark hall and up a wide curved staircase. I had expected to be taken to one of potentially many guest rooms but we finished up in what was obviously the master bedroom because a jacket that I recognised as one of Henry's was hanging on the back of a chair. This knowledge checked me and I mumbled, "Is it wise to...you know....here?"

I think that Lauren was laughing at my scruples. "Henry knows that I fuck around," she shrugged. "- he also knows that he has to put up with it if he wants to keep me."