Prospecting in the Outback

Story Codes: M/F, Shared Wife, Public sex, MM/F, Anal Sex, Romance

When I met my husband he was a normal, fun-loving man, he, like me, wasn't particularly adventurous, sexually I mean but mine was caused by shyness and his was caused by years of studying rocks, stones and gravel. When we met Johnny was working as a Geologist for UK Coal, he worked in the Leicestershire coal field, mapping out the location and potential yield of the coal seams underground. I was always surprised that even after spending all day searching through core samples he could come home happy and pick up his studies. Johnny had his degree but was working towards his Doctorate while working full time and even with all that going on in his life he still made time to take me out on the town once a week and once home from our evening out he would spend several hours making me happy in bed. Actually, he made me so happy that after a night of attention and sex I always drew a little smiley face in my diary to mark the occasion.

Well, that was all in the past, Johnny had managed to earn his Doctorate but at the same time UK Coal closed down the Leicestershire coal fields, well, all but the site at Ibstock where the coal turned up just a few feet below the surface so could be won by opencast mining, at one tenth of the cost of deep mined coal. UK Coal didn't need geologists in Johnny's area anymore so he ended up being made redundant. From that day on he was in very dead-end jobs where he hardly needed spade skills, never mind a doctorate in Geology. Johnny was under-employed at work, bored to death and, well, he was depressed. Perhaps not so depressed that he needed to see a doctor or anything but definitely depressed.

We had gone through fifty-two weeks without a single smiley face in my diary, on Johnny's birthday he went out with his mates after work, came home drunk, made a pass at me and at the crucial moment he failed to achieve an erection which, even though drunk, it just added to his depression. We then had another six months of no sexual contact and I was starting to worry that Johnny was actually reaching a deep enough depression that I was about to tell him to get himself off to the doctor for some anti-depressants and then one Thursday he came home from work with a smile on his face. I was a little shocked, didn't really know what to do or say, I served up his dinner and we sat at the table but he was like a schoolboy on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa Claus to arrive.

"What do you think about Australia?"

Well, that took me by surprise, "What do you mean? I think it's a little far to go for our summer holiday, far away and very expensive!"

"Well, yes, far too far to go for a fortnight's holiday and the summer here would be the winter over there. But I guess going there in the winter would allow some acclimatisation before the summer sets in!"

"Johnny darling, what the hell are you going on about?"

"This..." Johnny dropped a printout of an email that he'd received while at work earlier in the day. I read the email; it was a little difficult to read as it was obviously written by someone who didn't use English as his first language. I checked the senders address, 'Andreas.Simonsen@name.dk' so I guessed that the man was Danish, the gist of the email was that Andreas or Andy as he signed himself at the foot of the email had been issued with a license to explore for minerals in a vast desert area in the Northern Territories of Australia. They wanted to use an acoustic technique that Johnny had explored in his doctoral thesis and as they couldn't find anyone in Australia willing to get their hands dirty in the outback, and they were running out of time to start the project they had come to England to Johnny because they knew that he was already up to speed with the technique but they needed him to start as soon as possible or they would lose their rights to explore.

Johnny had been invited to go to Australia House in London's Strand the following day, there was a list of the things he would need to take with him to speed the process of getting a work permit up. I was trying to work out just exactly what the email meant to us. Well to me, it was obvious that a company called NAME or Northern Australia Mineral Exploration Ltd was headhunting my husband to work in Australia and they were desperate for him to start with undue urgency, leaving us very little time to discuss everything that needed discussing. I was trying to think, I was suddenly not very hungry and as I tried to square the circle I was pushing my food around on my plate, "You not hungry baby doll?"

I looked up into Johnny's face, there was an inner glow in his face that I hadn't seen since they started to close down coal mines in Leicestershire, I was still holding his email in my left hand and my fork in my right. "No, me neither..."

Johnny was on his feet in an instant; he came to my side of the table, grabbed my hand and pulled me from my seat, I was dragged from the dining room dropping the email printout and my fork behind me. As my husband dragged me up to our bedroom I remembered six months earlier when I drew a frowny face in my diary, he had dragged me upstairs on that day too, he'd stripped me naked, got me all excited, turned on, ripe!! But then he'd failed to get a hard cock, either the drink or the depression had killed his ardour so this time I wasn't getting excited until Johnny delivered the goods.

Johnny gave me an hour of foreplay, just like the good old days, well, no, not at all like the good old days; he only delivered enough foreplay to make me receptive and wet for his cock. After an hour's foreplay and more orgasms than I could count he threw his body down on top of mine and...and...there was definitely no problem with his erection this time. We fucked frenetically for ninety minutes, the only reason that we stopped after ninety minutes was because Johnny suddenly felt peckish so we wandered down to the kitchen in the nude and I buzzed both of our meals in the dreaded microwave oven.

After eating Johnny wanted to go back upstairs to pick up where hunger made him leave off earlier, "What about your interview tomorrow? Don't you need to prepare for it?"

"It isn't a business interview, they just need to list where I've worked, where I went to school and where I've lived for the last ten years, NAME are only asking for a work permit, not for me to emigrate permanently."

Well that was an answer to one of my many questions at any rate, so he wasn't planning on making the move to Australia a permanent. "And what about me, what am I expected to do while you're swanning off across the other side of the world?"

"Well, you have to come with me, NAME have a very strict policy, the project leader can't be any more than three hundred kilometres away from his, or her, spouse and children. They have experienced projects falling apart when the team leader gets homesick and bailed out mid-way through the contract."

We were in our bedroom by that point in our conversation and Johnny was on top of me again. We fucked for another hour before exhaustion got the better of both of us and we went to sleep, the last thing that went through my mind as I dropped off to sleep was that I'd have to mark yesterday down in my diary with two smiley faces.

We were a little late getting up so we were in too much of a rush to talk anymore about my role in Johnny's plan, it was a good job that he had a single folder holding all of his most important documents in his little office at the back of the kitchen, he just had to grab that one folder and stick it in his briefcase. I had to drive him to the railway station, NAME had provided him with a first class rail ticket but he would have to collect it from the ticket office but that meant going into the main railway station in Leicester as they were the only local station that actually had a real ticket office and because he had to travel from the main station there was no free parking nearby and the railway station car park was close to a crime hot-spot, so I had to drive him in to the station.

Johnny spotted a small bookshop on the London Road, "Stop! Stop, I need something to read on the train, I've got almost two hours to kill."

I watched Johnny run into the shop, he grabbed at a magazine in passing from the top shelf, ran to the counter to pay for it and ran out, back to the car, I spotted the title on the front of the magazine, 'A Brief History of Dogging in the USA.' Johnny stuffed the book in his brief case in double quick time and I finished driving him to the railway station.

I went to work, got in a little late but it didn't really matter, I only worked part time and it wasn't exactly a profession, it was just shelf stacking at an out of town store, the kind of job that was easy to pick up and put down as necessary, that wasn't what bothered me about the possibility of traipsing after my husband to the other side of the planet, I'd miss my little bit of independence, the little money I earned and also the fact that it took me out of the house for twenty hours a week. I hadn't managed to get much information about where Johnny would be prospecting but even with my lack of knowledge about prospecting for minerals but even I knew that you didn't do much prospecting in towns or cities.

I got home just after three o'clock and walked into a ringing telephone. "Could I speak to Dr. Clark please?"

The voice was cosmopolitan, not cultured English although his English accent was very good, just a hint of Eastern Europe or Scandinavian.

"I'm sorry; my husband is in London at the moment!"

"Isn't he back yet, we received confirmation that the good Doctor had passed the interview and he'd been in for his medical already, I just assumed that he'd be home by now."

"I'm not expecting him to get back yet, whenever he gets to London he will always stop off at The Geological Society in Piccadilly, he tries to keep in touch with the latest developments whenever possible, I expect he'll be on the five o'clock train from London to Leicester."

"Damned it, oh, I'm sorry Mrs Clark, please forgive me, it's just that we need to see your husband as soon as possible, my business partner is in Copenhagen at the moment but he will be leaving for South Africa to source some of the special equipment that we will need in Australia, he won't be back in Copenhagen for a fortnight, I really needed to talk to your husband to arrange for him to fly into Kastrup Airport tomorrow. It's very urgent that we get the interview process finished as soon as possible."

"Well, if it is important that my husband flies to Denmark tomorrow he will just have to fly out to see you won't he?"

There was a slight chuckle in the earpiece before the caller cleared his throat, "Thank you for that Mrs Clark, the first flight to Copenhagen from Heathrow is just after six o'clock in the morning, there will be two tickets waiting at the SAS desk for you but you'll need to be at the desk by five o'clock to give you time to catch your flight, I'll book you on the last flight home again, just in case."

There were a few pleasantries and then the call was over, I hadn't even managed to get enough of my wits about myself to ask the guy his name but I assumed that he was the man who sent Johnny the email on Thursday.

I picked Johnny up at just after seven o'clock, I'd already made sure that he had a clean and freshly pressed shirt, he had been wearing his best suit all day but because of the time he's have to wear it, smelly or not, I'd planned to squirt it all over with Fabreze to freshen the smell and to press it as best as I could so he'd look reasonable for his interview.

Johnny was bouncing about when he got home, he was so hyper that I worried that he'd never get to sleep, his interview at the Australian Embassy may not have been a job interview exactly but his interview on Saturday most definitely would be and Johnny would really need his sleep so even though he wanted to have sex with me I stopped him and made him try to sleep.

I didn't really understand why I had to go with my husband to Denmark but a free trip to a foreign capital wasn't to be sniffed at. Johnny's outfit for the day was kind of fixed, he only had one good suit, dark and conservative as would be expected at an interview, his Oxford shoes cleaned and polished to within an inch of their lives. Johnny got such a keen shine on his shoes that they reminded me of new patent leather shoes, an ancient memory flashed in my head from my mother, "Good girls don't wear patent leather shoes, boys will be able to see their knickers in the reflection."

Well, I had never seen a boy looking at a girl's shoes to see the reflection of her panties mind you, I was brought up in the era of the maxi skirt, as a young girl the shortest dress I owned was three inches below the knee so no boys ever got to see up my dress. I had no idea what the weather would be like in Denmark and I knew that I could be on my feet for almost twenty hours so, starting at the bottom, no not my bottom, the bottom, I was wearing flat black shoes with ankle socks, I had considered tights but spending twenty hours on the go in tights could turn out to be extremely unhealthy and smelly. I chose comfortable, utilitarian underwear, full sized, white cotton panties and soft cotton bra in matching 'Virginal' white. My dress was lightweight, cotton, mainly white with powder blue, occasional print to break up the glacial effect. The dress was buttoned up the front from my ankle to my chin. It wasn't voluminous and the way I'd buttoned it meant that I wouldn't be able to run but if the wind got up it wouldn't embarrass me either.

Johnny drove to Heathrow and parked in the short term parking lot even though it would be expensive to stay there all day. We found the SAS desk and they were expecting us and had two first class air tickets waiting for us which impressed me a lot, not just the organisational thing but the fact that they had paid for first class travel for us. The fact that we had first class seats was a moot point as the aircraft was a Bombardier dash eight four hundred, it looked just like a coach with wings on, there was absolutely no difference between any of the seats inside the aircraft, all they did was move a short curtain along the row of seats to behind the last seat occupied by a first class traveller. We got free newspapers as well as free alcoholic drinks and we were given free champagne or bucks-fizz while we waited for all of the economy passengers to troupe past us as they boarded after us.

The aircraft had around eighty seats but only had thirty passengers so it was far from full. As soon as the wheels left the ground we were handed a hot cooked breakfast while the people in the rear of the aircraft had a cold continental breakfast. After breakfast and coffee I searched the seatback in front of me looking for something to read to take my mind off of the boredom of a two and a half hour long flight. There was one booklet in multiple languages trying to sell in-flight goods that didn't interest me at all and the other was written in Danish so I couldn't read it at all. Johnny got his briefcase down and took out a sheaf of papers that he'd picked up at the Geological society's offices in London on the latest developments in mineral exploration using acoustic reflections.

"I should have thought about picking something up to read before we left Heathrow!"

Johnny had just started to digest the wad of information he had to get through before his interview but I was getting bored so even though he was busy I butted into his thought processes, "Do you have anything in your briefcase that I could read?"

Johnny stopped reading his research papers and looked me in the eyes, "I've got the magazine I brought yesterday but I don't think that you'll want to read it, it's a top shelf, gentleman's special interest magazine!"

"I'll read anything, even your notes on how to find special rocks amongst a pile of boring rocks!"

Johnny didn't look like he believed my answer but he put his papers down and opened his briefcase and found the magazine I'd seen him buy the previous morning on our way into Leicester. The front cover of the magazine looked innocent enough, just the large lettering proclaiming that the magazine contained a history of dogging in the USA. There were a few pictures in the magazine, naked woman, naked men but they didn't appear in the same picture together.

In the first few stories men described how they loved, no, loved was far too small a word, men who got a sexual thrill, to the point of orgasm, just from watching men look at their wives or girlfriends, those men would dress their women up in as revealing clothing as possible and just watch as men flirted, trying to entice the women into bed. The men in that section of the magazine didn't actually want other men to touch their partners, just to look and flirt and the places of choice for their particular kink were beaches or nightclubs.

In the second section the stories were about men who liked to actually share their wives or girlfriends with their male friends, sometimes even picking up total strangers, befriending them over the course of an evening and then bringing up the possibility of their new friends having access to their partner. The men in this group usually liked just one other man in bed with them and their partners as a threesome, typically they would engage in their sexual kink infrequently, six or twelve times a year on average, something to keep for special occasions.

The men in the third section were exhibitionists, they loved to fuck their partners while other men watched, the third group of men usually didn't want other men to touch their women, they just got a heightened feeling of sexual arousal when strangers watched them fucking.

The men in the fourth section were the most outlandish of all; they would enter chat rooms and invite all comers to join them in a public place, then at the appointed hour they would take their partner along, fuck her and then invite all others there to fuck her too, some used condoms some didn't. This group is where the generic term 'Doggers' came from. Because the men met in public places, often car parks or parkland, the invitees would carry a dog's leash so if the authorities turned up, the men could claim to be looking for a runaway dog.

I had read several stories from each section and although I found it very farfetched I had also turned my husband down when he offered me sex the previous evening, just because we had to leave home at three thirty this morning and now I was very turned on, very turned on indeed. I was just about to read yet another mass orgy story from California, dozens of men watching Greg and Dawn fucking in a beach car park after dark, Greg has just opened a box of ten condoms and invited the first ten men to come up, take a condom and fuck Dawn, his wife while he watched.

I had just reached the point where the first man, a Mexican illegal immigrant had taken the first condom from the box when the cabin attendant announced that we were starting our descent into Copenhagen's Kastrup Airport, "Please close your seatback tray and return your seat to the upright position. The captain will shortly be illuminating the fasten seatbelt signs so please return to your seats now."

I dropped Johnny's mucky magazine back into his briefcase but before I did I took the trouble of slipping my boarding card into the page to mark my place in the magazine, I chided myself for being so greedy, reading so many of those stories instead of leaving myself enough time to visit the toilet and look after the need that the stories had created in my body.

We left the aircraft in silence, passed through passport control; we didn't need to go through baggage reclaim as the only bags we'd taken were Johnny's briefcase and my handbag. Sadly, to get out of the airport we had to pass through customs and as always, that channel was at the end of baggage reclaim. As we were shuffling along slowly at the back of a long line of people waiting to pass through the 'Nothing to Declare' area, it was usually much faster than this but they were checking almost everyone passing through, asking questions, checking through bags.