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A UK Girlfriend Reluctantly Shared

I met mete a few years ago. I had seen Pete a few times at a local pub where a few of us used to meet up, and he always looked at me - and I fancied him too. He always said I was the best looking girl he had seen. The only problem was his age - he was 25. My parents have always been strict and brought me up to live conventional norms in life, i.e. Sex with one partner, always safely, and, ideally, that it would be my husband or long term partner. An age gap was expressed as a certain 'no', which I guess comes from social stigma.

However Pete started talking to me and I liked being around him, As I stood there, I was wearing black leggings and a white top with various accessories. I am slightly less than five foot, naturally slim (thankfully), UK size 6, and a petite 26B. I have long brown hair (but the colour can change with each visit to the hair dresser!). I also try to look as good as I can, but maybe suffer with confidence. Guys always said my best feature was my bum...

Pete was taller, being 5' 10", quite a stocky build and incredible eyes. Whenever he looked at me, I filled up with excitement, wanting him to fancy me. I consider myself to be reasonably attractive and had had several lads wanting to take me out. But Pete was who I wanted to be with. He seemed kind and polite, something I thought my mum and dad would like. After a week or so, he asked for my number and we chatted a lot from there. This progressed naturally and we became partners quickly. I introduced him to my parents and we lied about his age, saying he was 20. I am not sure whether they actually believed this though.

Sex naturally came along with me losing my virginity to him soon after I was 18 (always with him protected) and he always seemed very sexual, and we soon had a good sex life. I went on the contraceptive pill and we had unprotected sex a few times but I felt generally ill - a visit to the doctors showed the pill was disagreeing with me, so I came off it. He quickly mentioned during our relationship that he had sexual fantasies, and one day maybe we could do them. I never really gave this much more thought.

Our sex life started fairly normally - he performed oral on me a lot, which I really liked, and he also comments on how good I taste - almost sweet - which I don't really understand! He also mentioned how perfect my pussy was. I always shave as I don't like hair down there and I have quite plump vaginal outer lips, which are very close together. My pubic mound is also fairly pronounced. The first time we had sex was incredibly painful for me. I thought his penis was large, being 5.5", and he always commented on how tight my vagina actually was though. After a few times, this started to get better but I always had difficulty getting it inside me.

After 5 months of us going out, we had been in town drinking and, on our taxi ride home, he said to me, "Beth, you know how I talk about fantasies, well, I need to tell you mine."

Drunk, I joked, '"Yeh, sure".

His words will stay with me - "This doesn't mean I don't want you, I just am so turned on by the thought of other men having sex with you while I watch; me giving them permission to be with you, to use you, and you willing to do this for me because you love me - which you do, don't you?".

I couldn't believe it, I was literally filled with shock. "What... what do you mean? I don't, what?" We had been out many times (and men looked at me) but he had always seemed to get so jealous, saying to me, "Look at him looking at you, look at him". Now it started to make some kind of sense.

"But why would you want another man to be with me?"

"Because they would love your little tight pussy, Beth, you would drive them wild. Look at it just as sex, nothing else, it would turn me on so much, Beth."

I was literally filled with dread, with worry. How could he possible want this? Why would he want to see this happen to me? This was so wrong. I freaked out, stopped the taxi and jumped out and, being only around the corner from my parents, ran home. When I got home, I broke into tears, unable to understand why someone I loved would want this. Over the next few days, I kept my distance from him. He apologised and gradually we started seeing each other again. After another month or so, he gradually raised the idea again - when an attractive guy walked by he would say '"How about him, Beth, you could if you wanted to" and generally made a joke about it. During sex he would comment, "Your pussy looks amazing with my cock inside, just think what it would be like with a bigger one." Eventually, after nearly a year, I had simply had enough. I loved him so deeply and he helped me through a tough time in my life when a relative died. In the end, I decided to call his bluff: "RIGHT, ok then, fine, set it up."

Without any more questions, he said,"GREAT! Beth, I knew you would. I love you so much." And, with that, I didn't hear anything else.

A few weeks went by without him saying a word. I felt relaxed, at ease, thinking that my plan had worked and that, in fact, he had panicked and didn't want to take it any further. Mum and Dad announced that they were away for the weekend and I had the place to myself ("No outrageous parties Beth, but we know Pete will probably be stopping by, so you don't need to lie!" I suggested this to him and we planned an amazing weekend - Friday night on the town for drinks, then a duvet day on Saturday with films.

That Friday, I had a day off from college. I had had my birthday just 2 weeks before so I felt like letting my hair down! I spent most of the day getting ready to go out - hair washed and straightened, skin moisturised, shaved all over with a new razor (bar my head!), nails done, new underwear and dress - the works. I had a new fitted black 'Lipsy' dress, a black lace thong and a lace strapless bra with nice high-heel shoes. I felt nice.

Pete came over after work, around 7pm, and we had a few drinks. I could tell he was turned on as he touched me softly over my pubic mound whilst we kissed. "Let's go upstairs," I said to him, my pussy wanting to feel his lips and tongue.

"Let's save it for tonight."

I thought this was slightly odd but, after a while, our taxi arrived and off we went. We had a fair amount to drink while we were out - he seemed overly keen to keep topping up my drink. After a good night, we got home around 1am. As we walked up our driveway, I heard a car door close, which was funny as the taxi had just driven off, and heard, "PETE, BETH, HEY!"

It was Marcus... what the hell did he want?!

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