Tales Out of School

I'm only 25 and I don't want to sound like some frumpy old woman, but after the first couple of years of a marriage you do settle into a routine. I got married when I was 20 and the first year or two were exciting - pretty much a honeymoon period. After that, without even realising it, we settled into a routine.

As far as I was concerned our sex life was great, but after a few years I realised that my husband Paul's tastes were a bit more adventurous than mine. I don't mean that he wanted to do anything weird, but he started to ask me to dress a bit more sexily, act a bit more daringly.

I should explain that I'm a rather private person and in truth I'm pretty strait-laced. In fact Paul often teased me saying that I was the stereotypical junior school teacher. I always dressed in "sensible" clothes, didn't drink much, seldom swore; you should be starting to get the picture.

If there was one date when things changed I think it was the time we went for a meal at a friend's house. Paul had bought me some new lingerie which I wore and on the way to their house he talked me into undoing an extra button on my blouse. Not that I was showing anything more than a hint of cleavage.

"If you wanted you could go a step further," he said as we approached our friend's house.

"What do you mean?"

"Well I thought it might be fun if you left your knickers off when you went to the loo. I like the thought of my prim and proper junior school teacher sat there with no knickers."

"Are you joking? What would be the point of that?"

"No point," he agreed laughing. "I just thought it would be sexy, a bit of fun."

We were pulling up on the driveway, so nothing more was said and I didn't have any intention of doing what he'd suggested.

There were three couples and the evening went very well. Everyone seemed on good form and it was one of those occasions when the conversation flowed without anyone making any real effort. It wasn't the only thing that flowed, I had a bit more wine to drink than normal, which perhaps explained why I acted on impulse later.

I was sat on the loo when I remembered what Paul had asked me. With a nervous giggle I slipped my knickers off and tucked them into my handbag. It did feel odd returning to the table and sitting there, outwardly respectable, but with a bare pussy. Still my skirt went to just below my knee so there wasn't much chance of anyone seeing something they shouldn't.

We left the house without Paul suspecting anything and to be honest I think he had forgotten his earlier request; probably he'd assumed I wasn't up for it.

We'd left the motorway and were on the back road which leads to our village when he put his hand on my knee and started to stroke the inside of my thigh. Rather predictably his hand began to drift higher. At this stage I might normally have pushed his hand away and told him to concentrate on his driving, but tonight I didn't.

I felt oddly excited, my stomach was churning and I realised I wanted his hand to go higher, to discover that his "prim and proper" wife had a sexy side after all. Almost without realising it my legs parted slightly. I loved it when his fingertips brushed against my naked cunt.

"You've taken your knickers off!"

I smiled and parted my legs wider. Abruptly he pulled the car onto the verge. He hurriedly undid his seatbelt, then mine, reached past me and raked my seat back into a reclining position. He pushed my skirt up round my waist and moved above me. I parted my legs wide, then cried out as he rammed his prick into me. His very stiff cock pounded into my very wet cunt, then the inside of our car was suddenly illuminated by a passing car. It must have been obvious what we were doing because the driver gave a lusty blast of his horn before accelerating away.

As the lights and noise faded Paul groaned and swore, then fired his sperm deep inside me. We tidied ourselves up and drove home, where Paul whisked me straight upstairs and fucked me properly, making me cum twice before he pumped another load of sperm into my pussy.

The following morning he was full of himself. His hands were all over me and he was telling me how sexy I was. He told me I'd have to go without knickers again soon and I wasn't entirely averse to the idea.

Two weeks later it was his birthday and we'd arranged to go out for a meal to a Thai restaurant. Paul asked if he could choose my clothes, I said yes and he laid out a very summery dress. It left my shoulders bare and in truth I'd only worn it once because I felt it was too revealing.

Still it was his birthday, so I went along with it. I picked out a white strapless bra and a pair of lacy white knickers. Paul was waiting downstairs, so I went into the lounge and did a twirl for him.

"Do you like what you see?"

"You look beautiful, but what have you got on underneath?"

"Bra and pants," I said puzzled.

"I didn't put any underwear out because I don't want you to wear any. I thought that as a birthday treat you'd go out in just a dress, those heels and nothing else."

"But with this dress everyone would be able to tell I was braless!"

"I know and that's part of the appeal." He stood up and came across to me. "You're a gorgeous woman and tonight I want you looking at your sexy best. I'm fed up with you being shy about your appearance, tonight we're going to celebrate it."

He pulled the top of my dress down, unfastened my bra and tossed it to one side, then pulled my dress back into place.

"Paul, I can't go out like this, it's too obvious."

He reached under my dress, pulled my knickers down and removed them. Ignoring my protests, he picked up his keys and led me out to the car.

Part of me was annoyed to be treated in this domineering fashion, but I do rather like a man to take charge and be in command of things and in truth I was getting a buzz out of the situation.

Sat in the car I was aware that even though it was a warm summer's evening my nipples were very erect and I hoped I would calm down before we reached the restaurant.

I felt very self-conscious when we walked into the restaurant. Stood waiting to be seated I kept my arms folded across my chest, but I could hardly do that as we followed the waiter across the restaurant and I can honestly say that I felt like my nipples were boring a hole in my dress. I know I was blushing and I kept my head down and avoided eye contact with anyone.

"Relax," said Paul, once we were sat down. "No one's looking at you, it's nothing like as obvious as you seem to think."

Perhaps he was right, but even so I was glad that we had a quiet corner table. Later in the meal when I had relaxed a bit I asked him why he had been so insistent -- did it really turn him on that much?

"Look you know I love you, but you have to admit you're a bit strait-laced. Most of the time I don't mind, it's just part of you, but there's the odd occasion like tonight when I do wish you would lighten up a bit. You're a gorgeous woman, you should be proud of it, instead of acting like it's something to be embarrassed about. You've got lovely long dark hair, a beautiful face and a wonderful figure. Most women would die for your looks and figure, and I know I'm biased but I do think you've got absolutely world class tits."

I didn't reply to any of that, but I did feel flattered and without being vain I knew what he meant about my tits. Several of my girlfriends had said they wished they had breasts like mine, not big and gross, but nice and curved and definitely not flat chested (I'm a 36D).

I popped to the loo part way through the meal and I tried to be less self-conscious about my braless condition. Even so it did feel as though my tits were moving about very obviously and one older guy sat with his wife seemed to have noticed my lack of support.

When I returned to the table I looked to see if he really had noticed anything. Our eyes met briefly and a knowing smile flickered across his lips. I hurriedly looked away and continued back to my husband.

It felt odd -- another man had been staring at my tits. Alright he couldn't actually see anything and I'm not completely naïve, I know men like to look at women, but for once I had invited those looks. I'd dressed in a way which said look at me, look at my body, lust after my body.

It felt wrong, but there was an undeniable buzz from it. I wondered what that man would think if he knew that I didn't have any knickers on. I felt very vulnerable and very accessible. One tug at the top of my dress and my tits would be exposed. Stick a hand up my dress and you would have easy access to my pussy. Was he sat there perfectly respectably with his wife, but secretly imagining himself sucking one of my breasts and then parting my legs and sliding the angry head of his thick, heavily veined cock between my cunt lips. I squirmed in my seat.

Sexually I was very inexperienced and I was a virgin when I met Paul.I wouldn't say that I'd had a particularly strict upbringing, but my parents were very inhibited, at least as far as sex was concerned, and I guess they passed that on to me. Enjoying your sexuality, indeed revelling in it, wasn't something I was used to, but I was starting to see the attraction.

We weren't eating late, but I hoped that Paul didn't suggest going for a drink after we left the restaurant. I had visions of my man sat on the settee whilst I straddled him, pulled my dress up round my waist and guided his erect cock into my welcoming pussy. Then I would pull the top of my dress down and offer him my "world class" tits.

It came as a bit of a surprise when I realised that what I planned would be the first time I would have initiated any lovemaking that was at all out of the ordinary. That made me all the more determined to take the leading role for once. I could feel a pleasant tingle of anticipation and if I had been wearing any knickers they would have been distinctly damp.

We finished our meal and Paul settled the bill. As we headed out of the restaurant we almost bumped into the man who had been looking at me earlier. He wasn't blatant about it, but he did check out my breasts again.

The car park is in two sections and the restaurant was quite busy so we were parked in the farthest one. It was a lovely summer's evening with the sun close to the horizon, though this area was shaded by a tall privet hedge.

When we reached our car Paul didn't unlock it, instead he backed me up against it and started to kiss me. That was fine by me, but then he started to squeeze one of my breasts, I broke off the kiss and whispered in what I hoped was a seductive voice that we ought to head for home.

Instead he returned to kissing me and squeezing my breasts. He seemed very excited and I guessed the fact that I was braless (and very obviously so) in public had really turned him on.

Then I gasped as he pulled the top of my dress down so that my breasts were fully exposed. His head went down and he sucked fervently on my left breast whilst squeezing the other one.

"No, not here. Let's go home."

My pleas had the opposite effect -- he pulled the hem of my dress up so that it was bunched around my waist. I was stunned and speechless. The top of my dress had been pulled down and the bottom had been pulled up so my dress was just a band of material round my waist; I was effectively naked in a public car park!

"Paul, not here. Anyone could come, some parents I know from school might come."

It made no difference. I heard and could tell he was unzipping his trousers, then he thrust upwards, narrowly missing my pussy. Another thrust and another miss. Then my breath was taken away as his cock speared into me. Paul groaned and started to fuck me, pumping in and out of my wetness. He kissed me deeply, his prick ramming in and out of me, then stiffened and gave a final extra deep thrust. I felt his prick jerk and jerk inside me, then that lovely warm, wet sensation when a man fills you with his cum.

I came back to reality and focused on the other side of the car park. That older couple were stood by their car watching us. I made eye contact with the woman and she hastily opened the door and got into the car. The man stayed there a few seconds longer, a quiet smile on his lips. Then he mouthed a thank you and got into the car.

I pulled my dress into place and we both got into our car. We waited a short while to let the other couple leave first, then headed for home. Paul seemed perfectly happy, but I couldn't decide whether I was excited or deeply embarrassed, or (more likely) a bit of both.

Close to our house there is a long straight stretch through a patch of woodland. At the start of that Paul told me to put my feet up on the dashboard. I did that and his hand slid up the inside of my thighs. He slid a finger into me and proceeded to finger fuck my very wet pussy. I tensed as a car came the other way, but kept my feet in place. Then it was past and we were approaching our village.

I decided my plan to straddle Paul on the settee could wait for another day. In the event he locked the door behind us and guided me towards the stairs. I didn't actually make it upstairs because he pushed me down on the stairs, rucked my dress up round my waist (again) and took me from behind.

I love being taken doggy fashion, it's my favourite position and at last I was free to gasp and groan as Paul's cock seemed to drive the very breath out of me. He asked me if I liked being fucked from behind and I told him I loved it.

"What do you love?"

"I love your big fat cock fucking me from behind. He feels massive and I love being fucked by him."

I could feel the first waves of an imminent orgasm, so I urged him to go faster, then I came very noisily. Paul speeded up, then it was his turn to groan and swear as he pumped his sperm deep inside me.

Since that day there have been several occasions when I've left my panties off. Paul loves it and I must admit it gives me a thrill. I feel semi naked and like the idea that anything could happen - a gust of wind could come along and expose my pussy to a complete stranger. I actually think Paul would enjoy my embarrassment and I have to be honest and say that although the "old" me would be mortified by such an experience, there is a "new" part of me that would be turned on by it.