The Start of Something

Everyone in this story, which is based on fact, is over eighteen. I was absurdly innocent for my age when these happenings began, a good while ago. Things changed...

*

My wife Ingrid and I were on holiday in Romania, staying in a package-deal hotel at the beach resort of Mamaia, on the Black Sea coast. It was hot.

Every night a fairly crap band played fairly crap music for guests to dance to, but things livened up when they played a Romanian dance -- I think it was called the 'Perinitza' or some such thing. Everybody pranced around in a circle, holding hands, with one person in the middle, holding a scarf. If this person was female, she hooked it around the neck of a bloke she fancied in the circle, and they snogged, then the bloke took the scarf and hooked a girl, and so on, and so on. Pretty simple.

Ingrid was a rather attractive, very Nordic blonde, and I was, I suppose, a fairly well-set-up sort of a six-footer, in those days, so we both got 'hooked' quite often, and I found myself grabbing, and being grabbed by, a slim, rather slutty brunette from Milton Keynes, who breathed that her name was Sharon, when she came up for air. But Christ, she could snog, fairly sucking the tongue out of my head, so that I had to creep back to the circle doing my best to hide a king-size erection. Ingrid was also in some demand, being seized by a big Russian she said was smelly, and a horny Swede who brought no complaint from her.

When we got back to our room, she was out of her little sundress in no time, panties off, and pulling a pillow under her buttocks, the way she liked it. I drove into her wetness with all the rigid urgency of my twenty-eight years. We had only been married two years then, and at least one fuck per night was the norm. Her hips rose to meet me, her long legs locking behind my thighs, and she groaned her pleasure in my ear as I rammed deep into her, the moisture of her cunt squelching with every thrust, until I came, in huge gushes. Neither of us mentioned the catalytic effect of our Romanian dances, and the snogging that went with them.

This went on for the whole holiday, and I think sown the seeds of the next phase of our social life. Parties had already become part of our life, before our holiday, a loose group of friends getting together in each others' houses perhaps once a week. We'd dance to the current music, and hold each other's wives close, wearing their long, silky dresses which were then the fashion. It was, I think, Ingrid, who started the snogging trend, but it quickly caught on, and I, for one, didn't object, especially when I got to grips with the lissome Anne, who could have kissed for England. I had a fairly permanent stiffy throughout these parties, and Ingrid was always wet and ready when we got to bed, so our sex-life was never better.

But, of course, as with all things in this life, you always want more, don't you?

I had invited along to one of our parties a workmate, Derek, who hadn't been to one before, and he brought along his wife Dawn. Wow, what a dish, I thought! Slightly below average height, perhaps, she was slim, and had the face of an angel, with big, dark eyes, and a wide, generous mouth. Her hair was a long, chestnut mane. She wore a long, pale pink dress of some silky material, with spaghetti straps, which could no way have concealed a bra. In fact, she looked just about ready for bed. Ever the perfect host, I asked her if she would like to dance, having ascertained the Ingrid was busy preparing food. Dawn moulded her body to me instantly, and when I surreptitiously ran my hand down to her buttocks, she whispered smilingly into my ear, 'That's right, Andy, I'm not wearing panties.'

'Christ!' I said, 'I'm not going to be able to dance with you for long, Dawn.'

For reply, she nibbled my ear-lobe, which didn't actually do much to calm me down. When I kissed her, it was a sweet, lingering one, our tongues working overtime as she pressed her lithe body against me.

When Ingrid turned up the lights and announced that food was ready, I didn't want to relinquish my hold on Dawn, but she whispered that we ought to dance with our respective spouses, and held my hand with a meaningful (I thought) squeeze as we parted. When we all parted at the end of the party, she again gave my hand a longer-than-usual hold, which felt more like a caress.

So it was that, on the pretext of visiting a client, I made sure Derek was safely in his office one early afternoon the following week, and found myself parking outside the bungalow he and Dawn occupied at the other side of our town. On second thoughts, I drove around the corner, parked a way down a side street, and walked back, then, as casually as possible, went and knocked on the door.

At first I thought there was nobody at home, but then heard footsteps, and was suddenly face-to-face with a dishevelled Dawn, in jeans and a sweat-shirt, a trowel in her hand.

'Andy!' she said, 'Come in. But look at me -- I was gardening, planting. God, what a mess!'

She looked pretty good to me, even like that, and I said so.

'You're a lying, charming bastard, you know,' she said, 'Look, I'd just finished anyway, so let me get you a drink, then I'll have a shower and do a quick change. I won't keep you.'

She went and put down away her trowel, and whatever else she was working on, then came back.

'Do sit down, Andy, and let me get you a drink. What would you like? We've got......just about everything. But what are you doing here?'

'Oh just a glass of juice or something would be nice.' I didn't answer her second question.

She put a large tumbler of orange juice down on the table in front of the sofa I had sat on.

'Won't be long,' she said, and trotted off through a door that appeared to lead into a corridor. I heard another door, then the sound of water running. I looked around me at all the usual framed wedding photos, rows of books, shelves with various ornaments, and wondered what on earth I was doing there. I had been married to Ingrid for some four years, and had never gone astray -- yet here I was, on the verge of doing just that, or, at least, I thought, I hoped so.

She was gone a littlee while. I looked at my watch, saw that it was only four o'clock. Derek wouldn't be home for a couple of hours at least. I sipped my juice, and looked around as the door opened and Dawn walked in. The transformation was complete. Her hair was pinned up, presumably to avoid wetting it in the shower, and she was letting it down as she walked across to sit opposite me, its glorious auburn locks tumbling around her lovely face. She wore a blue silk robe, tied loosely at the waist with a broad white ribbon. It fell open casually as she sat, revealing a long slender leg, her foot dangling a black, furry mule, with a spike heel that must have measured five inches. Around her slender ankle was clasped -- for my benefit? -- a gold chain, its loose end swinging free a couple of inches.

'You didn't tell me what brought you here,' she said, a smile playing on her luscious lips.

'No, I didn't, did I?' My cock throbbed, just from looking at her. I noticed she had put in long, gold ear-rings -- I was sure she wasn't wearing them when she came in from the garden -- and I was sure she had done something to her make-up.

'Maybe it was the party?' she suggested, 'I can be a little.....forward.'

Was she putting me down? But no, as she said that, she leaned forward, and patted my knee, and as she did so, her robe fell open, so that I could see her breasts. I knew it was deliberate, and, taking up the cue, reached out and cupped one with my hand, finding it warm and so, so firm, the nipple responding immediately, growing and hardening in my fingers.

'Oh God, Andy, I like that!' she said, and slid off the chair, then joined me on the sofa. In a flash, we were kissing, our breathing now coming in gasps as our tongues fought in each others' mouths. I caressed her gorgeous, firm breasts, telling her how lovely I found them, but she was occupied with my belt buckle, then my zipper. I had to help by pushing down my boxers, to release my world-record erection, then her hand was encircling it, stroking, tenderly fondling my engorged member. I felt her soft hair around it, then her tongue was licking at my crown. She looked up at me as her lips took my cock in their intimate embrace, and I thought I should cum instantly. But she was no novice, and grasped my shaft at its lower end, cutting off the blood supply, slowing me down.

Quite suddenly, she released my cock, and I wondered briefly if I had breached some unwritten code, but she stood up swiftly, and shrugged off her robe, so that she was stood right in front of me, gloriously naked, save for a fine gold chain around her narrow waist. I started to reach up for her, but she pushed me back, then slowly parted her legs, her eyes never leaving mine. Both hands went to her pussy, which I now saw was completely devoid of hair -- not very usual in those days, so far as I knew -- and she very deliberately parted the folds of her labia, arching her back slightly, so that I could see the damp, pink depths of her cunt. The sight inflamed me, so that I almost came, right there and then -- only willpower stopped me.

'Fuck me, Andy!' she said, simply, and just lowered herself slowly, ever so slowly, impaling herself on my urgent, pulsing weapon. I had never known anything like this in my life, and drove into her to the very hilt of my sword. But it was Dawn who was doing the fucking, and she controlled me, bringing me to the very brink, then reaching down and grabbing my shaft hard to prevent me from cumming too soon. But then her moans grew to shouts of joy, and she suddenly threw her head back, and yelled, 'Yeesss! Cum in me now. Fill me with your spunk!' I obliged.

'Oh Dawn,' I said, when I had recovered the power of speech, 'Now and only now, do I know what sex is really like.' I meant it. But then came the bombshell.

'I...I...don't know how to tell you this, Andy,' said Dawn, hesitantly, pulling her robe back on, then was silent, and looked to be close to tears.

'What is it, love?' I asked.

'Derek and I are off to Australia next week,' she blurted out, 'for good.'

'B..but, I didn't even know he was quitting the firm,' I said.

'No, love, he's kept it quiet,' she said, and now she was crying for real. I couldn't find words to say.

On the way home, I realised that my marriage was on its last legs. There were more parties, but no Dawn. My wife soon announced that she was leaving me -- no surprise there -- and it wasn't long before I started up a different, and altogether more loving relationship. But that's another story...