Hello, my name’s Sarah. I’m 51 years old and I live in the West Midlands. I’m happily married to a lovely man, and it’s fair to say we still enjoy an active sex-life. We’ve recently started to open up a bit to each other and explore a few little turn-ons – nothing too extreme, just the usual stuff like sexy underwear and blindfolds. Until yesterday.
Having worked from home for the last 16 months I haven’t had much cause to dress for work, which would usually be a skirt, a fitted shirt and jacket with a pair of fairly high heels. The kind of thing women in offices normally wear. Now, I’ve always had a decent figure, and despite not being as young as I used to be I still have curves in the right places – so I like to sometimes make a bit of an effort and dress nicely.
So yesterday I decided to ditch the joggers and t-shirt and see if I could look and feel like a professional woman again. I wasn’t actually planning on leaving the house – I had a couple of Zoom meetings, but that wasn’t the point. I started by opening the wardrobe and pulling out a couple of my usual work outfits, but then my eye was caught by something much shinier. You remember I mentioned that we had been spicing things up in the bedroom with sexy underwear? Well this was a little step further. I pulled out the red satin-look blouse and tight, black, wet-look, above-the-knee skirt I’d bought online recently to surprise him with. What the hell, I thought. I was only going to be working in the spare room, and no-one was actually going to see me.
So what else to wear with this little ensemble, I thought. Well, stockings obviously. And heels – if I’m going to look like a slut, I’m going to need heels. So I put on a pair of glossy, barely black nylon hold-ups and slipped into the sexiest pair of patent red 5″ stilettos. By now I was beginning to feel quite turned-on, so I sat at the dressing table and applied more makeup than I usually would. God, I looked hot.
I went into the spare room/temporary office and opened up the laptop. For an hour or so I worked through emails, answered queries and made a few calls. Early in the afternoon I had a video call with some of my workmates. As I activated the camera I noticed that a couple of the younger lads looked a bit sheepish.
“Oh, hello Sarah” said one. “Are you going out later? You look very…erm, different” he said.
“In a good way, I hope?” I replied.
“Erm, yes, just a bit” he said, visibly shifting in his chair.
This made me feel slightly horny, and all throughout the short meeting I was running my fingertips up and down the stretchy, faux leather skirt, hidden from view. God knows how they’d have reacted if they’d seen me in the full outfit!
The meeting ended and I was feeling good about myself. I’d still got what it takes to make a man’s head turn. With this in mind, I decided I’d finish early and wait for my husband to return home – he was going to enjoy walking in to his wife looking like a slut, and even more to taking me to bed dressed like this!
“Wine!” I thought, “we’ll need wine, I’ll quickly nip to Asda”.
As I was picking up my keys to drive the short distance to the supermarket I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. Could I go out dressed like this? And then a little warm wave swept through my thighs and pussy. Not only could I go out dressed like this, I wanted to go out dressed like this.
I opened the front door and immediately felt a slight breeze. It was now I remembered that I wasn’t wearing underwear – and that really set me off. I was wet, and my heart was beating faster. I got into the car and set out for Asda, despite not being used to driving in such high heels.
I parked up in the multi storey car park and made my was across the concrete floor to the entrance – my stilettos clicking and my glossy stockings swishing with each step. I caught another glimpse of myself in the glass doors – my God I looked like such a slut, what was I thinking? I was about to around and go home when I noticed a man staring at my heels. He looked like he was in his 30s, and was well groomed. A bit young for me, but he looked nice so I gave him a half-smile as recognition.
I entered the store and headed straight to the wine aisle. I noticed my admirer was watching me as I bent down to a low shelf, my tight skirt riding up a little. I stood up and smoothed-down my sheer clothes and then turned to walk to the tills, and noticed that my new friend had disappeared. Perhaps he’d seen enough and gone, I reasoned. Strangely disappointed, I paid for my wine and walked back through the dimly lit carpark, heels clicking as I went. I pressed the button on my remote to release the boot lid….and that’s when it happened.
As I leaned into the boot to secure the wine bottle, a hand from behind covered my mouth. “Don’t scream. I’m not going to hurt you” said a man’s voice in a hushed tone. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out. For a second I was frozen.
You are the sexiest, most fuckable woman I’ve ever seen” he whispered, the bulge in his trousers pressing against my round bum. With one hand still covering my bright red lips, he moved his other hand to my breasts and found a rock hard nipple through the shiny red material of my blouse.
As he rolled it between his fingers he whispered “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop. I’ll walk away. Otherwise, I’m going to fuck you right here”.
I didn’t make sound. Not because I was paralysed by fear, but because I really wanted to be fucked. I was soaking wet by now, and I was aching to be taken by the stranger. Realising I wasn’t resisting, he moved his hand from my mouth and moved it down to my thigh and started to feel the silkiness of my stockings. He moved his other hand down too, and was now caressing my thighs and hips. He was slowly peeling my skin-tight skirt upwards and I parted my legs, leaning further forward into the boot of the car. I was now just standing there. Slutty heels, glossy stockings and exposed pussy – dripping wet, just waiting for his next move.
I felt him shift away slightly to unbutton his jeans. He took out his cock, and without any words pressed it against my pussy lips. I was so wet that it slid inside with ease. I was so turned on that I began to squirt immediately – something I’d never done before. He slowly started to move in and out, and I started to move to meet him, my nylon covered legs shaking with every stroke.
Even though we were pretty much in the shadows of the car park, I could hear other shoppers nearby – all adding to the feeling that someone might see me being fucked from behind by a total stranger. The thought of being caught just excited me more, and prompted me to hiss “That’s right, fuck me. Fuck me like the little slut I am”.
This had an obvious effect on him as he grabbed me by my hair and pulled my head back, making me gasp with surprise.
“I’m going to fuck you, and I’m going to spunk inside you. I’m going to fuck you so hard, you dirty fucking slag. I’m going to cum in you like the cock-teasing bitch you are” he whispered.
This just made me squirt even more and flooded his cock, which was pumping even faster now. I was almost sobbing as I orgasmed on his rock-solid pole, hammering into me, the tips of my stiletto heels scraping on the concrete floor with each thrust.
“That’s right, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me” I cried under my breath. By now the car was rocking, he was hammering me that hard.
“Oh, fuck, I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum in you now” he gasped.
And he did. His thrusts slowed down as he grunted and then groaned, his cock pressed as far as possible inside me – firing spurt after spurt of thick spunk into my cunt. He came so much I could feel it inside me, filling me up. He held me for a moment, kissed my shoulder, and pulled out. My legs were still shaking as I slowly stood up straight and pulled down my tight skirt over my stocking tops.
I closed the boot and turned around, but he’d gone. I felt as though I was in shock and I could barely walk after the savage fucking I’d just been given. Nonetheless I got into the car and slowly drove back home.
As I pulled onto the drive I saw that my husband was already home. I had to wait a few moments to compose myself, and then slowly turned the key in the front door. I saw my reflection in the hallway mirror again. This time I didn’t look so smart – my hair was ruffled where he’d pulled it back, my bright red lipstick was smeared where he’d gagged me with his hand, and I looked…..well I looked like I’d just had the roughest shag of my life.
My husband came from the kitchen to greet me, and he stopped in his tracks when he saw me. At first he was taken aback at how I was dressed – I was after all still wearing my red satin top, shiny, skin-tight skirt, glossy stockings and red high heeled fuck-me shoes. His jaw almost hit the floor, and he was clearly liking what he saw. But then he noticed something I hadn’t. It was the dribble of thick white spunk running down the inside of my nylons.
“Wh…what’s that?” He stammered, knowing perfectly well what it was. I was mortified. I’d been so consumed by lust and the desire to be used that I just didn’t think to wipe up the spunk from my swollen cunt.
“I…I…I’m so sorry darling. I dressed like this for you, and I..I went to Asda and this guy just came up behind me in the car park and…and…”.
“And what?” He said. “He raped you?” “Is that what happened? Did he force himself on you?” His voice becoming more worried.
I could have lied, I suppose, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t raped – although it could easily have looked that way if any of the other shoppers had actually seen us. He didn’t force me, because I wanted to be forced. I wanted to be taken that way.
“No, darling, he didn’t rape me. He fucked me. He fucked me, and he came in me because I wanted him to. I let him shag me from behind, over the back of our car, and I let him fill me with cum. I didn’t do it to hurt you, or because you’re not good enough. I did it because it was so fucking exciting, and I am so, so sorry”.
“Sorry? SORRY?” He shouted. “I’ll fucking give YOU sorry, you fucking slut!”
He angrily strode towards me. I thought he was going to hit me, or throw me out, or both – most men would. But no, he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me into the sitting room. Then he did the one thing I was not expecting. He threw me over the back of the sofa and pulled my stocking clad legs apart. He pulled up my skirt and undid his jeans, and, for the second time in an hour, I was getting a fucking good seeing-to. Again, no lubrication was needed – the first time was with my own juices, but now it was another man’s cum. My husband, consumed with fury, was using the spunk left in his own wife’s cunt by a stranger to fuck her with. And fuck me he did.
He was like an animal. He pulled me from over the back of the sofa and threw me down on on the carpet. He then pulled my legs apart, still sticky and smeared with cum, and held my ankles as he thrust into me. Now this was something else, and I was squirting again – something he noticed straight away.
“Oh, you’re enjoying this, are you slut?” He snarled.
He’d never spoken to me like this before during sex.
“Is this what turns you on, acting like a slag? Fucking strangers? Letting them cum inside you?”
“Just fuck me” I said sternly, looking him in the eyes as he pumped into me.
I wrapped my stockinged legs around his waist and crossed my ankles – my stiletto heels scratching his back as he fucked me mercilessly.
“Just shut up and fuck your slut wife”.
This sent him over the edge, but he had one more surprise for me. He pulled his cock from my cunt and grabbed the back of my head once more, forcing it into my lipstick-smeared mouth.
“You want to be a slut? Well you can take my cum like a slut”.
And with that he spunked in my mouth – my lips tight around his twitching shaft as his semen hit the back of my throat.
I didn’t swallow – I’d never had anyone’s cum in my mouth before, not even my husband’s. Instead I thought he might enjoy seeing his wife, dressed like a whore, dribbling spunk from the corners of her mouth onto her silky blouse.
He clearly did, because he was hard again straight away. Without another word he pulled me onto my knees, with my elbows on the chair and got behind me. He entered me again, and held my shoulders as he satisfied himself again in my cunt. I was so turned on that I squirted and came again as he pounded me. He took his hands from my shoulders and held me by my bright red heels, which clearly turned him on as he pumped yet more cum into me.
After a few moments he pulled out and left the room, leaving me sobbing on the floor, with two loads of cum in my cunt and one smeared over my slutty face.
He showered and went to bed. I did the same, but in the spare room. We didn’t speak.
This morning we sat and discussed what had happened. He said that he was hurt that I’d been with another man, but understood that it was just sex. In fact, he admitted that seeing me with cum rolling down my leg was the most turned-on he’d ever seen.
This afternoon we went to Asda together. I wore the same outfit, but this time it was my husband who fucked me senseless in the car park.
Sarah. X