After the student party, a lot of the pretence had gone. Sharon admitted she was enjoying becoming a submissive slut, and we talked it out openly. As far as I was concerned, I now had the green light to look for more adventures.
This was far from easy in 1980s Belfast. I thought about it for a while and decided to buy Sharon a vibrator. There was no online shopping back in 80s Belfast, so the next day, during my lunch break, I visited the only sex shop in the city at the time. It was called Blake’s—a sleazy place up a back entry and very overpriced.
I bought Sharon her first vibrator. It was white, hard plastic, about eight inches long. That night in bed, I told Sharon I had a surprise for her. I removed the vibrator from the brown paper bag and explained how it worked. I turned it on and Sharon’s eyes lit up.
I placed the buzzing beast between Sharon’s legs. My God, she was surprised. I pushed it into her now very wet pussy. I felt her hand come down and plunge it all the way in. Sharon bucked around, moaning, having a great orgasm. I rubbed her big breasts and nipples hard as she came.
I pulled the vibrator from her wet pussy and slammed my cock deep into her as we both came. The vibrator lay on the bed, screaming for more with its electrical buzz. I lifted it and pushed it back into Sharon’s well-filled pussy. As I pushed it into her, my cum came rushing out and Sharon came again. What a great night we had—and a new instrument to keep Sharon on the boil.
Time moved on, and I was told by work that I needed to attend a course in London. It was a one-day course, so I arranged to take Sharon with me and stay an extra two days.
The journey was uneventful. We went by the Belfast–Liverpool boat and then by train to London. We stayed at the Union Jack Club at Waterloo for three nights. The course finished on the first day at 4 p.m. Sharon stayed in the hotel while I travelled by underground. I could not believe how packed the trains were.
It was then that another adventure occurred to me. When I got back to the hotel, I excitedly told Sharon my plan. I asked her to wear her blue-and-white tie-dyed top, tied at each shoulder, and not to wear a bra. She was reluctant, but I said, “Sure, no one knows you here.” I also asked her to wear a short white skirt with sandals—nothing else. After some thought, she agreed.
We set off the next morning at 8 a.m., dressed as I had requested. The subway was packed. I could see Sharon’s nipples poking through the thin material, and this did not go unnoticed by the other male passengers. Sharon was sandwiched between a number of men. As I kept my distance, I could see them rubbing themselves against her. The guy at the back was subtly feeling her arse through her skirt. A well-dressed older man faced her tightly, clearly rubbing his erect cock against her. His hand kept rubbing against her braless tits under the pretence of holding the strap.
They kept this up for a few stops but had to get off when they reached their destination. We got off at the next stop.
I told Sharon to remove her pants and give them to me. She reluctantly did so, and I put her very wet pants in my pocket. I told her I wanted her to flash her pussy when we got back on.
We reboarded the train, which was not as busy. She sat opposite a rather dirty-looking older man wearing a boiler suit and a donkey jacket. He looked a real pervert type.
I told Sharon to start flashing. She did so slowly. The old guy could not believe his eyes as he caught a glimpse of her hairy pussy. His eyes went from her exposed pussy to her braless top, with her nipples sticking out like stalks. She opened and closed her legs, giving him a good view every time. I was amused to see him adjust his cock as he watched.
I indicated to Sharon to get off at the next stop. She led the way, followed by our new friend. I watched from a distance as he stopped her to talk. He asked her to come with him for a drink. I approached them and introduced myself as Sharon’s husband. He looked frightened, but I told him it was OK and that the bar was a good idea.
His name was George. He led us to a busy but sleazy bar full of workmen. I bought him and Sharon a drink and had a Coke myself. I noticed he had moved beside her and was becoming very touchy-feely, running his dirt-ingrained fingers over her arm as they talked. His hair had not been washed for some time, and I dreaded to think about the state of his cock.
He turned to me and asked what the game was. I explained that Sharon was my wife and that I liked to see her with other guys. “Is that so?” he said, as he put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her tight.
When I came back with another drink, I noticed his hand had dropped to her right breast and was slowly rubbing it. I worried he might be drawing attention, but when I looked around, I saw other men watching. That was not surprising, as Sharon was one of the few women in the workers’ bar.
I then watched as his hand went behind the table and up her leg to her pantless pussy. He was now in complete control. His fingers found their goal and he proceeded to maul Sharon’s pussy, stuffing three dirty, work-worn fingers into her and finger-fucking her hard. Sharon’s head went back as she bit her bottom lip.
George turned her face to his and kissed her long and deep, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. I was not expecting this—it was very intimate and bittersweet to see Sharon respond, her tongue darting into his mouth as they kissed deeply.
I looked around and saw the smirks of other men as it became obvious that George had taken ownership of Sharon. He said, “Time to go,” as he led her out the door with his arm around her. I had no idea where we were going, but I went along.
He led us to a large park he clearly knew well and found a heavily shaded spot behind trees and bushes. He opened his boiler suit, opened his fly, and produced a very long, gnarly cock covered in pre-cum. I could smell his unwashed cock from where I stood.
He pushed Sharon to her knees and, without any formality, stuffed his engorged cock into her mouth, holding the back of her head with both hands as he face-fucked her hard. I could see her wince as he did so. He pulled down her top, exposing her bare breasts, grabbed them, and mauled them with one hand while the other finger-fucked her.
I watched as he bit her exposed breasts hard, chewing on her nipples, calling her a dirty fucking slut between bites. He bent her over as she held onto a tree branch and slapped her arse hard. I handed him a condom, but he slapped it away and forced himself into Sharon. With a loud groan, George finished and then wiped himself down, laughing as he left her standing there marked and dripping.
Of course, I had to add my cum to Sharon’s well-filled pussy before we cleaned her up and headed back to the hotel, where we spent the night talking about what had happened and fucking like rabbits.
We had been invited to a wedding in Bradford a couple of weeks later, so I knew there would be another opportunity soon for more adventures.
Please let us know if you would like to hear what happened to Sharon in Bradford.
