Wendy's Show for the Workmen Ch. 02

Wendy was looking around quite apprehensively, her arms wrapped around her body protectively. She watched a transaction at the till and when the guy wandered outside to collect his order, leaving the sales counter free, she decisively unzipped her jacket, pulled it right off, and strode up the aisle to the counter, the coat on her bare arm and her heels making her hips sway sexily. Her little bare breasts bobbed as she walked.

"Hi Bry." Wendy said, smiling and putting her elbows on the counter so she could lean forward with her adorned breasts resting on the counter, pushed together and framed by her arms. Wendy's posture allowed Brian a full view of her displayed breasts, at the same time as hiding them from most angles. Her bare back and sides were on full display, making it obvious she was topless, but her breasts were hidden.

I was in awe of her brassiness and bravery, and adored Wendy for her plucky courage. The transaction took several minutes and Wendy held her poise the whole time as the merchant took the order, grinning and enjoying Wendy displaying herself.

A workman in painter's overalls came and stood behind Wendy, making a small que. He actually jolted a little when he realised the woman in front of him was topless, and kept trying to get a peak of her breasts.

After a few minutes Wendy turned around, the order print out in her hand and the painter stared at her adorned breasts. She gave him a confident nod and said "Hi" and then hurried over to us.

She quickly put her coat back on. She was shaking but couldn't stop grinning and her eyes had a sexy sparkle. Both the painter and Brian were watching Wendy as they chatted at the counter.

We wandered around to the warehouse, Wendy practically skipping with excitement. A forklift drew up and the driver held out his hand for the order receipt. Wendy handed it to him with a perky smile.

"Can I have a ride on your forklift if I show you my tits?" Wendy asked him cheekily and then before he could answer she had pulled off her coat again, handed it to me, and climbed onto the side of the forklift. She was standing, facing in to the driver, so that her adorned breasts bobbed right in front of his face.

The driver just grinned and sped off to get the order, Wendy clinging to the forklift frame with her bare back on show and her arms stretched up. There were three pallets to load into the van, and Wendy rode back and forth on the forklift the whole time, her blonde bob blowing in the breeze and waving at us now and then with a big smile.

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When we got back the drizzle had turned to heavy rain and the guys called it a day. Wendy waved the van off as I waited inside.

Wendy came bouncing in and plonked herself on the sofa, stretched out her legs with her feet dangling off the cushion. She was still wearing her tight jeans and the black waterproof with nothing underneath.

"That was so sexy, darling! The lust in those guy's eyes! Just wow! I still can't believe I did it!" Wendy's eyes were still sparkling and she unbuttoned her jeans. I tugged them down her legs and threw them on the carpet and then pulled off her panties, she parted her pale thighs and showed me her pussy glistening from her arousal.

I moved my head between her thighs and began licking her juices, my hands gripping her buttocks.

Wendy winced, her body stiffening.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Lookie see." Wendy said, pushing me back and turning on to her front. Right across the pale flesh of both her buttocks was a long red and raw welt, swollen and sore looking, it was turning purple at the edges as it began to bruise.

"Phil didn't just tap me, he really belted me." Wendy said. "I was crying the whole time I emptied the barrow load into the skip. I've been barely able to sit down all day."

"Jesus, Wend!" I said and went to the bathroom for some salve and rushing back to kneel down beside Wendy lying on the sofa, I massaged the salve into her welted ass.

"Phil's a jerk." I said, kissing my wife's damaged ass as she lay her head on her folded arms.

"Mmm... that feels nice, darling. Say what you want about Phil, but you couldn't belt my ass with a piece of rubber piping. Not like he did. You care about me too much."

Wendy moved an arm under her body and began stroking herself as I continued to apply the salve to her painful welt.

"Yeah. 'Cos it takes a real man to hit a woman." I said, sarcastically, annoyed at Wendy defending Phil.

"Shush darling, and let me enjoy it. I've known my lads for years. Phil knew I could take it." Wendy sounded almost proud.

"He's hit you before?" I asked, alarmed.

"No, silly. But he was part of the Met-her-bee-oh." Wendy's voice was softening, becoming languid and sensual as she relaxed into pleasuring her pussy. From where I sat, I could see her fingers circling her clitoris, occasionally moving to stroke her pussy lips and slide a finger inside herself.

"What the fuck's a met-her-bee-oh?" I asked.

"Make the bitch obey club. MTBO. It just sounds cuter as MeT-her-Bee-Oh." Wendy's pussy was glistening with her juices as she indulged in her memories.

"Tell me." I said, tracing my fingers up her inner thigh, to intertwine my fingers with Wendy's as we pleasured her pussy. Wendy's sexy, rounded and welted ass moved slowly up and down in rhythm with her strokes.

"It was a group of our husbands that met every Friday at the 'Nag's Head.' It used to be so sexy and exciting, not knowing what our punishments were going to be."

"Your punishments?"

"Mhm, we all got maintenance spankings anyway, so all of the wives' asses were red once a week, but the MeTeBeeOo club was where they decided our extra punishments. Our hubby's gave us most of our punishments in private, but the club was always told about them."

"What kind of punishments?" I asked.

"All sorts, they were pretty inventive when it came to that sort of thing." Wendy was bucking her hips as we jointly stroked her pussy.

Like what?"

"Like this one time, the whole club came around and I'd served them all their drinks, and my John's sitting there whittling away on this big ginger root." Wendy was stroking herself faster now.

"He's like peeling it and the long strips are dropping into this glass bowl on the coffee table... and it's totally silent apart from these strips of vegetable dropping off... plonk, plonk, plonk into the glass bowl. Anyway, I'm like sitting watching him, kind of nervous in my jeans and sweater, I mean the whole club was there, it always made you feel nervous, and excited. Any one of those guys on their own had a kind of sexy powerful presence, but all four together was like a powerhouse of testosterone. Back then they were all so big, strong and sexy. You know, the kind of guys that made their wives proud to be the ones to worship their cocks, darling."

"What happened?" I asked, aroused by Wendy's pussy feeling so wet and aroused and her juices glistening on her pussy and fingers as she stroked.

"Well, my John finishes peeling this ginger root, and the whole room has this sort of spicy perfume from the root, and when he's finished he looks at me and says "Come on, Wendy" and takes me into the kitchen."

Wendy hunched herself up onto her knees, still on the sofa, with her head bent low, her back arched and her haunches lewdly pushing her rounded ass back and up. Leaving one hand still alongside mine pleasuring her pussy, she began gently circling her displayed asshole with the other, her rounded buttocks gyrating as she relived her memory.

"Then what?"

"He tells me to pull down my jeans and panties, and I did, down to my thighs. I was really nervous cos the guys were just in the other room. I felt so vulnerable. And then he makes me face the sink and run the tap, and he's wetting this ginger root. I can remember feeling so aroused and scared at the same time. I had no idea what he was about to do, or if the guys were behind me watching me display my bare ass and pussy."

With her buttocks pushed up high, I had a full view of her pale flesh, oily from the salve, as Wendy's finger circling her asshole began to push a little against her rim.

"Then he tells me to hold my ass cheeks apart and I'm like totally on display, just like I am now for you, darling, and the kitchen's cold and I can feel the cold air on my stretched asshole, and then John pushes this ginger root right up my ass."

I watched as Wendy pushed her finger up against her closed sphincter, prodding it and then relaxing it so her finger slid inside her ass. She began bucking her hips, the pale flesh of her ass cheeks wobbling.

"Then he tells me to pull up my jeans and panties and we go and join the guys in the lounge, and everything's normal, except they all knows I've got this big, hard ginger root stretching my ass under my jeans... and then this burning starts to build until my ass feels like it's on fire, my rims stinging the worst cos it's so stretched, but the inside burns so much too."

Wendy pushed a second finger inside her ass, stretching out the folds of her sphincter.

"But the humiliation was worse than the pain, sitting there with the guys enjoying my punishment, and everyone in the room knowing I'm squirming about on the sofa 'cos of this ginger plug stretching my ass."

"This sofa?"

"Mhm. So the burn gets worse and worse and I start crying... and John wipes my tears with a tissue as I'm struggling to manage the pain for him, and then he says a good spanking can help with the pain... and leaves me to think about it... the pain's totally unbearable and every second's lasting forever and then I realise I'm going to have to ask John to spank me in front of the guys... and I hold out until I can't take this pain in my ass any longer, so I do it; I wrap my arms around my John's big, sexy shoulders and whisper 'spank me.' He makes me stand in the middle of the room and pull my jeans and panties down... it's so humiliating and I only pull them down low enough to bare my ass for my spanking and then Phil sits just where I've been sitting, next to my John. And I lie face down across their laps, and Phil holds my arms twisted up behind my back, and John starts whacking my bare ass until I'm sobbing into Phil's jeans..."

Wendy was shoving her fingers in and out of her ass hard and fast now, leaving her sphincter gaping wide until her fingers rammed back into her displayed ass. "

I'm going to cum, darling; please spank me." Wendy whispered, still using her two fingers to push in and out of her ass and stroking her clit faster and faster.

I slapped her lewdly displayed buttocks gently.

"Harder, please." She told me and I slapped her ass harder, trying to miss the huge welt Phil had given her.

She continued telling me about her punishment.

"But what's totally humiliating is when John stops spanking my ass, and I'm sobbing and relieved, and then my ass burns worse and worse, until I'm actually begging to be spanked again, and all the time I can feel Phil's erect cock against my chest, cos he's pushing me down on it with his grip on my wrists."

Wendy stopped telling me her memory then, focusing on her growing orgasm until she climaxed, her buttocks shoved up, and her back bent, ramming her ass with two fingers and stroking her clitoris as I slapped her upraised ass.

Her face was shoved against the sofa cushion, and her ass pushed as high as she could, and as she came with two fingers up her ass, madly stroking her clit, it was the most primal and animalistic expression of Wendy Braithwaite I had ever seen.

I was so aroused by Wendy's animalistic display that I was desperate to make love to her, but instead, as she relaxed, Wendy had me snuggle alongside her on the sofa, my head against her black waterproof so I could feel the soft, warm flesh of her breasts underneath.

Her hand reached to my zipper and pulled out my hard cock and just held it throbbing in her grip until moments later her fingers slid away as she dozed.

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I lay with my head on the waterproof coat, listening to Wendy's heartbeat and feeling her soft breasts swell and dip under the weight of my head with her relaxed breathing. I was too aroused to doze and too full of questions.

I had thought I had known Wendy Braithwaite entirely, but these disclosures of her past were outside any context I knew of Wendy.

To me Wendy was the sexy, middle-aged housewife and business woman, confident, practical and caring. Neither submissive or dominant in her love making, but sensual, natural and intimate.

Because of my uxurious devotion to Wendy's beauty and sensuality, our love making has evolved in ever heightening gyres over the years to focus entirely on her pleasure. For me, the most beautiful and erotic experience is Wendy and I jointly pleasuring her and sharing in the beauty of her orgasms.

That's why I long ago suggested to Wendy that she should never have to touch me to make me aroused, her sensual presence always being enough to arouse me and have me ready. It's not that Wendy can't touch my cock if she wants to, but she rarely does, usually just touching it to check I am aroused, and then carrying on with our joint focus on her pleasure and orgasms.

She had told me before that 'her John' had been quite controlling and she didn't want to go back to that, but I'd no idea it had involved anything like what she has just described.

The fact that Wendy had lain across 'her John' and Phil's laps on this very same sofa we were snuggling on right now, crying her way through a spanking, made me see the whole house in a new light.

I imagined what they must have felt having Wendy's sexy body lying across their laps, feeling the intimacy of her soft breasts and firm thighs writhing and tensing in pain through their jeans. My wife had felt Phil's hard cock against her breasts as he had held her down.

The house and the people surrounding Wendy seemed to hold such strong bonds, memories and levels of intimacy that were intimidatingly powerful, and while the Wendy Braithwaite I had married seemed definite that our devoted and loving relationship was what she wanted, her past felt like a claustrophobic miasma permeating everything with an innuendo historic allegiances and significance.

Every piece of furniture, every acquaintance from Wendy's past now took on an unfamiliar and latently hostility. They felt more permanent than our recent marriage, like the roots upon which Wendy's life had been nourished and through which their influence still pervaded.

As I snuggled into my beautiful wife, I was haunted by the memory of Phil's face earlier in the day, contorted with rage as he pointed at me saying "Hey, none of this is any of your fucking business. You don't know how we do things around here, so sit down and shut the fuck up!"

When Wendy woke up, I kissed her gently and asked her if we could talk about her past and the MTBO club.

"Of course we can darling." Wendy said, stroking my head as it lay on her chest. "Book us a table at the Nag's Head, table number 9, that's where it all used to happen, and I'll tell you all about it. But seriously, darling, you have nothing to worry about, my lads are traditional guys, they'll respect that I'm married, even if they don't respect you."

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I rang the Nag's Head from the bedroom phone the next morning and booked table 9 for the following Thursday evening. The landlord sounded really enthusiastic when I booked it under Wendy Braithwaite and asked me to pass on his best wishes to Wendy.

Wendy came padding past me, fresh and clean from her shower, and stepped into a pair of white panties and then her black work pants.

"The guy at the Nag's Head sends you his best wishes." I told her.

Wendy giggled. "Carruthers? I bet he did!" Wendy said, reaching behind her back and fastening her bra strap, concealing her beautiful bare breasts from my view. She slipped on a white work blouse and wandered downstairs as she buttoned it.

When I joined her in the kitchen, Wendy was putting on her make-up, using the east facing window for better light. She had made herself a coffee in her thermos cup to save time.

"I feel like we hardly see each other at the moment." I said.

"I think you and my lads got to see a whole lot of me at the weekend, darling." Wendy said, smiling saucily.

"Not like that, I mean time for just you and me."

"Got to run, darling." Wendy said, putting her fingers to her glossy lips, kissing them and then putting them up to my lips.

"But tell you what, you make me a lovely romantic meal tonight and I'll be all yours." Wendy said, walking down the hallway, grabbing her laptop case and giving me her usual cutesy wave and rushing out of the door.

Seconds later her head popped back in. "Oh my God! My used panties are still on the scaffold! Can you bring them in before the contractors, arrive, darling?" Wendy said.

As Seg and his work crew had site work during the week, he had given our work out to contractors for the week. We had both totally forgotten.

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I finished work early to buy the ingredients for our romantic meal, and began preparing the meal as soon as I got in.

Wendy arrived home just as I was putting the meat in the oven and she came up behind me, pushing her hips against me and circling her arms round me, to fondle my crotch.

"How's my little man? I hope he's all excited to see me." Wendy said, playfully biting my neck. This was the third day since I had been able to cum and the feel of her hands teasing me through my work pants made me grow hard quickly.

"Mmm... My little man is excitable today! Just popping for a shower, darling. When's our romantic meal ready?"

"About half an hour." I said, checking the timer on the stove, and Wendy went upstairs for her shower. I heard the water running and worked as efficiently as I could to time all the varying components of the meal.

I lit the candles, placed serviettes, uncorked the wine and put our love making CD into the player.

Wendy came down the stairs just as I was preparing the dessert. She looked absolutely stunning and sexy in a tiny denim mini-skirt and white fishnet sweater that displayed her pale flesh and her small breasts in a push-up white bra through the diamond shaped holes in the weave.

Her make-up was done in her usual glossy pink style and she was adorned with silver ear rings and bangles that jingled against her bare fore-arms as she ran her hands through her blonde hair.

"Well, am I suitable date for your romantic meal?" Wendy asked, spinning around and displaying her sexy body for me.

"Sure are." I said grinning. "I'm going to take a quick shower. Don't touch anything." I said, handing her a glass of Chardonnay. I sprinted up the stairs, and ran the shower, my cock so sensitive and aroused by Wendy looking so sexy in her outfit that it was rigid just from me lathering my body. I was out, dried and dressed, heading back to the kitchen to serve the meal within ten minutes.

Wendy's son, Marty was sitting on the kitchen surface, dangling his feet as he chatted to his mom. Tylor was goofing around with Wendy, play-dancing, his hands on her swaying hips.

"Hey darling, Marty and Tylor popped around. I put some extra veg on so the meal will stretch to four." Wendy said, and then burst into a fit of laughter as Tylor span her round and titled her backwards, with his arm supporting her lower back. He held her leant back, her small breasts thrust upward in the push-up bra, grinning.

In one moment, I went from revelling in the uxurious pleasure of an intimate night with Wendy, to feeling like an inconvenience in my own home. Tylor and Marty would stay late, playing on the X-Box and demanding Wendy's time until they went. Not only that, but my wife's body, adorned and displayed so provocatively for me, was now on show for Tylor to enjoy.