Wendy's Show for the Workmen Ch. 02

Instead of the romantic meal I had planned, we ate with Tylor and Marty, them directing the conversation around the build, rather than the intimate evening I had hoped for with Wendy. I ate in silence.

"Hey Mom, if you don't drink we can finish the wine and you can drop us home later!" Marty suggested and Wendy happily agreed, refilling her lads' glasses with an accommodating smile.

After the meal, I had collected the dishes and was placing them by the sink when Tylor walked up and handed me his dessert bowl. "Smack up, meal, fella! And Bendy is looking fucking hot!" Tylor said grinning.

Prior to the weekend, I had only known Tylor to behave polite and courteously towards or about Wendy, but since the two days of Wendy displaying her body for 'her lads', the young lad seemed to have gained an assumed right to ogle my wife, refer to her as 'Bendy' and to act with absolutely no regard whatsoever for my status as Wendy's husband.

As I washed up, I heard Wendy suggest a game of 'Twister' to keep her lads amused and I washed the dishes to the sound of Wendy's squeals and giggles as they played. When I finally joined them in the living room, Marty was sitting on the arm of a sofa, spinning the game's indicator arrow.

"Green, hand." Marty said and Wendy promptly bent over to place her hand on a green circle.

Wendy thighs were stretched apart from following the different actions dictated by the spinner, and when she bent over to touch the green circle, her tiny denim skirt was stretched to just below her ass cheeks. Being dressed for a seductive evening and not a physical game, Wendy looked slutty with her black stockings and suspenders on show now her mini-skirt had risen up her spread thighs.

She tottered for a moment and then squealed as she fell forwards to lie flat on the floor, her thighs still apart, and both Tylor and I had a full view of her exposed bare pussy exposed under the hem of her mini-skirt.

When Marty had had enough of playing and turned to his attention to his mobile phone, I took over the spinning role for Tylor and Wendy. Tylor whispered to Wendy and she giggled, reached her arms up the back of her white fishnet sweater and unclasped her bra. She pulled the straps down her shoulders and then, pulling the bra free, threw it at me.

"Spin it then, darling." Wendy said, giggling at Tylor.

As they continued playing, Wendy put on quite a display, contorting her body under the direction of the game, displaying herself in nearly every pose imaginable, her small breasts and stiff nipples jutting out in profile in one pose, and then dangling down the next. I was already resentful of the lads sabotaging of our evening, and I grew increasingly resentful of the physical contact between Tylor and Wendy as they collapsed in a heap, laughing and rolling across the floor together, Tylor's hands were often in contact with Wendy's soft flesh, sometimes even brushing against her nipples that poked through the gaps in the fishnet sweater.

The lads stayed and drank all of our wine, keeping Wendy up well past midnight before they decided she could drive them home. I went to bed as Wendy collected her car keys. Her bra was still lying on the chair as they drove off.

She returned about one in the morning and quietly undressing, slipped into bed. Aroused by her scent and the feel of her familiar, sensual body, I snuggled into Wendy, my hand reaching to circle her clitoris.

"Night, night, darling." Wendy said, and turned off the bedside lamp.

*************************

I slept restlessly and intermittently, my arousal awakening me throughout the night as Wendy slept like a log. Knowing Wendy's alarm would be set for seven, I slid under the covers an hour earlier, hoping to make love to my beautiful wife before she got up for work.

I gently kissed her bare thighs adoringly and licked her clitoris slowly and gently until I could feel by her sensual movements that she was dreamily aroused. Her thighs parted for me and I began adoring her pussy with my mouth.

From under the bed covers, I saw her hands go to her nipples and touch them as I pleasured her pussy. Her movements grew rhythmic, her hips slightly gyrating and her soft belly lifting up and dropping as she became more aroused. Wendy threw the covers right back so that her full bare body was displayed in the morning sun and trailed her fingers down her smooth belly to join my mouth at her clitoris, the two of us working as one for her pleasure. My cock strained against the mattress and I was desperate to feel her pussy walls around my cock.

Suddenly the bedroom door slammed against the wall, making us both jump.

"Where're my car keys, Bend?" Tylor asked, striding in and taking in Wendy's bare body, her hand on her nipple, the other on her pussy, with her thighs splayed and my head between them.

"Bend! I'm going to be late for fucking work! Where're my car keys?"

"Hold on, I'll get them for you, Tylor." Wendy said, immediately climbing out of bed and padding past Tylor, not even taking the time to slip on her white towelling robe.

"I thought Phil'd said you two couldn't fuck?" Tylor said, matter-of-factly to me. "I'll text and ask him." He said, more to himself than to me, taking out his mobile.

Wendy came back up the stairs with Tylor's keys. "Here you are Big Man." She said, standing naked before him and smiling up at him.

"Cheers, Bend." He said, holding his hand out for her to drop the keys into his palm, which she did with that cute curtsy action she had been doing on Sunday, the action making her bare thighs and ass jut out and bounce slightly, sexy and demure.

As Tylor's footsteps receded down the stairs and the front door slammed, Wendy lifted her arms above her head, stretching her petite body, watching me for a response.

"Mmm... is my little man desperate for my hot little bod?" Wendy teased, reaching for my erect cock and patting it affectionately.

"Maybe tonight I'll let you finish off licking me, darling." She said padding out to the bathroom.

I lay in bed frustrated and feeling a mixture of exacerbation and resentment at the set up I had moved into, where Tylor and the lads seemed to be given priority over everything, even our intimacy it now seemed. I knew that wasn't fair, Tylor had been late for work, but the way he had just let himself in and felt perfectly at ease to just walk into our bedroom without even knocking felt disrespectful. But then, ever since Wendy's display for the work crew at the weekend, Tylor had assumed a less respectful role with Wendy, now calling her 'Bend' and clearly feeling he had the right to ask her to remove her bra last night.

Again, there was this complete lack of respect for my role as Wendy's husband and this general expectation of Wendy to obey a young man less than half her age. Wendy acted as though the whole situation was normal and usual.

*************************

Wendy was away Tuesday night with work, due back late Wednesday night and I busied myself tidying up the attic. When I came across some old VHS videos and an old video/TV in one, my curiosity about Wendy's past, after her disclosure on Sunday, led me to watch the videos.

The first couple of tapes were just standard old seventies porn films, but as I fast-forwarded through the second one, the screen flickered and changed scene.

The screen shot was a close-up of a flaccid cock and a woman walked across and lay down beside the man's hips on the far side of the shot. It was unmistakably Wendy, beautifully made-up and looking in her early twenties.

She looked adoringly at the cock in front of her, and taking it delicately between her finger and thumb, swirled her tongue around it, looking up at the man's face lovingly. His face was out of shot of the camera.

Wendy sucked the cock, alternately taking it into her mouth and running her tongue along its length until it gradually grew erect.

Then she produced a pot of yoghurt and spooned it over the hard cock before devotedly licking it from him.

Wendy's every movement and action was an act of adoration, her eyes misty with love and lust as she worshipped his cock. She did everything she could to stimulate the guy, cupping his balls with her hands as she sucked him, and even at one point holding his cock against her cheek, fondly like a lover.

Eventually the guy was clearly near to cumming and Wendy slid the head of his cock between her lips, stroking his shaft until he came in her mouth. Wendy kept her lips around his cock head, looking like she was in ecstasy as the man shot is spunk into her mouth.

The screen flickered and went back to the seventies commercial porn film.

I sat thinking about the contrast between my uxurious relationship with Wendy that was all about her pleasure, and her previous marriage where Wendy had seemed to happily subjugate herself to pleasing her husband.

The line she had said about the wives' husbands being the kind of guys that made a wife proud to worship their cock kept running through my mind and the contrast to mine and Wendy's agreement that she should never have to touch me was striking.

With hindsight, seeing your wife with a look of absolute lust and adoration in her eyes as she swallows another man's cum is not an image you want to see, trust me. Even though it was a time and a place, the fact she had felt that way about him hurt.

I wouldn't have had our relationship any other way, but Wendy's past was haunting me and my main worry was why she still had the tapes.

***************************

Wendy arrived home late Wednesday evening, tired from her train journey, bathed and went to bed. I hadn't cum since Friday and I hoped the booked meal at the Nag's Head the following night might give us the intimacy to make love.

For our meal Wendy wore her tiny denim mini-skirt with a matching denim jacket that left her fore-arms and waist exposed. Underneath, her lack of bra was obvious, the shape of her little breasts outlined in a tight white crop top. She had a white hair band holding her blonde bob back from her beautiful face, and she had accentuated her overall trashy blonde look with white bracelets, ear-rings and a pearl necklace that matched her white tasselled boots.

As Wendy drove to the Nag's Head I couldn't keep my eyes off the hem of her tiny denim skirt as it rode up revealing nearly all her bare thighs, pale and smooth and sexy in the orange glow of the passing streetlights.

When we got to the Nag's Head I held the door open for Wendy and as Wendy walked in the barman shouted "Wendy!" and came striding around the bar to take Wendy by the waist and lift her off the ground in an affectionate bear hug.

"Long time, no see, sexy!" The tall, bar man said, putting Wendy down, but keeping his hands on her bare waist as he smiled down at her, taking her all in.

"Argh, it's good to see you, how've you been?" He said, squeezing the bare flesh above her hips and using it to wiggle her hips, his eyes all over Wendy's body.

"Hey Carruthers." Wendy said, smiling up at him and posing a little, letting him admire her petite body in her cute denim outfit.

"Who you here with? The club or the wives?" Carruthers asked.

"Neither. Meet hubby number two!" Wendy said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me in front of Carruthers.

"Ah, right. The off-comer." Carruthers said, his manner immediately becoming more restrained. "Your tables over here, Sir." He said, assuming a detached professionalism.

The Nag's Head was a converted barn; the structure of the animal pens having been retained to make vestibules for individual group tables. Table 9 was in the far corner of the main lounge.

He guided us over to our reserved table and handed us both menus when we sat down. "Can I get you any drinks?" He asked.

"No, silly. I'll pop to the bar and we can catch up! I haven't seen you in ages!" Wendy said smiling brightly, almost bouncing out of her seat to accompany Carruthers to the bar.

I sat watching Wendy as she sat on a bar stool, looking radiant, with her little legs crossed so that her bare thigh was displayed to the bar lounge as she smiled, giggled and chatted to Carruthers. Quite a few people stopped to greet Wendy as she flirted with the bar man, most of them hugging her familiarly. When she had finished her drink, she ordered another then came trotting over with them on a tray.

"Sorry, darling. Just catching up with old friends." She said.

Wendy held up her glass and proposed a toast to 'us time' and sat back smiling fondly. "This place brings back so many memories."

"Yeah, you were going to tell me about that club thing."

"Mhm... but first I need to know you're okay, darling."

Over a bar meal we discussed what Wendy called the 'elephants in the room', with Wendy offering to answer all my questions. The video tapes she had no idea she still had, and she suggested we burn them ceremoniously at our next barbeque. The intrusiveness of her lads calling in any time and having keys to the house, she offered to chat to her lads about, and her exhibitionism she agreed to stop if I found it too difficult. After we had discussed all of these things, Wendy leaned forward, her elbows on the table and her hands framing her beautiful face.

"But, none of this is the real white elephant, darling."

"What do you mean?"

"The real white elephant is you're worried your sexy wife is going to fuck someone else, right?" Wendy said, staring into my eyes earnestly."

"I guess so, yes."

Wendy took my hands in hers, rubbing them affectionately.

"Darling, I'm yours and you're mine, nothing's going to change that. All this sexy fun that's going on, is just that; sexy fun. I know you don't know how we do things around here, but whatever else you might think, we do take our marriage vows seriously, darling. I take our marriage vows seriously." Wendy said, smiling, and then she told me about the MTBO club.

*************************

"Friday nights were so sexy in here, darling. Me and the girls would spend all afternoon preparing for our men; getting our hair and nails done, and I mean all our hair, darling. All the wives had to be completely shaved between our legs. We'd wonder about town all glammed up with our puss's bare and smooth and everybody knew us as the 'slut wives.' Wendy said, her eyes twinkling and sipping her wine.

"Not slut wives like that!" Wendy said, giggling when I looked at her, shocked.

"Sluts for our hubby's. That's what the whole club was about; us being trained to be sluts for our hubby's. The guys'd change at the steel works and then call in at the Nag's Head looking like medallion men."

"Huge egos!" Wendy said, laughing, making a swollen head gesture with her hands, and continued;

"At the start, Carruthers used to keep this table reserved, but after a while everyone just knew not to sit here. So, the guys would sit down and we'd rush to the bar and bring our hubby his beer. Then we'd pop to the Ladies to get changed. We'd made these little cheerleader outfits with our hubby's name written across the tops; huge egos see! That's why I wore this crop top tonight, darling, so it would feel the same." Wendy said, opening her denim jacket to show me the shape of her little breasts and big nipples outlined in the tight, white top.

"All the guys in the pub would when we came out in our little pleated mini-skirts and tiny tops, like we were celebrities. I mean, I know you find me gorgeous now, but you have to picture the young Wendy Braithwaite; petite, sexy, short, and blonde. You know like in the video you saw."

Wendy wrinkled her nose up at the mention of the video.

"And even though we were sitting just over there..." Wendy pointed to a table opposite. "...in these skimpy cheerleader outfits nobody ever dared chat us up 'cos everyone knew we were owned by the 'MeeT-her-Bee-Oh' boys. That protection was so hot! Anyway, we'd be sitting with our drinks, our smooth pusses tingling, knowing our husbands were discussing how well we had performed that week; whether we had sucked our hubby's cock to their satisfaction, you know stuff like that."

"When they were ready, they'd whistle for one of us and we'd rush to the bar, buy the guys a round of drinks and bring it to their table, serve them, curtsy and then whichever one of us it was, would be taken to the Men's room by their hubby. Carruthers used to put an 'out of service' sign on the door." Wendy said, smiling and pointing at the Men's room door.

"The fuckings I've had in that Men's room! John would slam me against a wall, rip my top down and really slap my tits hard. He'd call me a 'bitch' and a 'slut' and I'd drop to my knees, loving it and just worship his cock, not lovingly like at home, but like a total horny slut, drooling and choking myself with his hard cock."

"As soon as he was hard, he'd drag up, turn me and fuck me like a slut with my arms up against the walls, hard and fast, belting my ass and pulling my head right back by my hair. Sometimes I'd be screaming. The fucking would be over in a flash but that feeling of being taken and owned would last the whole night. Then he'd drag me out of the Men's room, me desperately trying to cover up my tits, and be presented, freshly fucked to the guys. I'd stand there with my pussy feeling empty and missing his hard cock, like a slutty trophy to his sexual power."

I pictured the young Wendy Braithwaite standing in her cheerleader outfit in a busy pub on a Friday night with her hair tousled and her face flushed and aroused, her displayed body glistening with sweat as she panted. I tried to imagine her 'just fucked' look, her thighs trembling and her eyes misty with her husband's cum sliding out of her shaved, wet pussy into her panties. My cock grew hard in my jeans.

Noticing the arousal in my eyes, Wendy smiled and slipped off her denim jacket, leaving her arms bare and her small breasts on show in the tight white top. Giggling, she wriggled down in her seat and I felt her boot against my hard cock. She began stroking me through my jeans with her boot.

"I thought you'd like my little story!" Wendy said, biting her bottom lip as she concentrated on rubbing my cock with her boot heel.

"So, the guys would have given us a competition for that week."

"Like what?"

"Well, like this one week we had a blow-job week. We had to suck our hubby's cock as much as poss for that week. I'd done seventeen in one week, all swallows too, and I told them that, all proud for being a good slut wife and pretty confident I was going to win." Wendy said, actually looking proud.

"And Seg gets my John to confirm it, and I'm like all smiles, glowing 'cos he can be proud of his slut wife, and then Seg is like 'Denise did twenty-three, three of them facials, and one in front of all the guys." Wendy said, her face a picture of disbelief.

"And then I'd be gutted, like I'd failed my John. But that was the thing, the feeling when you failed and the pride when you were the best slut wife was totally addictive. We even created our own 'slut wives club' to encourage each other to be as slutty as possible for our husbands. It was fab."

The pictures created by Wendy's memories swam in my mind and those combined with her foot rubbing my cock brought me to the brink of orgasm.

"I'm going to cum" I told her urgently and Wendy threw a small glass of water in my face, bursting out laughing as I stared at her, shocked and dripping wet, with my orgasm stopped.

"You look like a startled bunny!" Wendy said, bursting out laughing every time she looked up at my face. She handed me a napkin shielding her eyes with her hand to check her hilarity.

"So you see, darling..." Wendy continued once she had stopped giggling. "We were all happily married and it was totally hands off each other's wives and hubby's, but that didn't mean we couldn't all have fun. The guys loved the power of deciding our punishments and we loved pleasing them. The ginger root thing I told you about was my punishment for complaining John's cock was too big for my ass." Wendy paused, and tapped my cock with her boot heel.