It had only been a week since the incredible experience in the industrial estate. I had spent the week once again in a roller-coaster of emotion. I found the experience turned me on incredibly, and actually wanked to relieve myself daily over the thoughts.

But then, I also questioned the experience. How did we go from a cheeky masturbating drive in the car, to watching my first wife exposing herself voluntarily? Then, me encouraging her and her willingness, to fuck not one, but three strangers. She had always appeared shy and timid about sex, previously it hadn't been that massively adventurous.

That was, until a few months ago, when we had been caught by a jogger, whilst fucking in the woods. Since then, I saw a different side to her, which made me wonder if I truly knew her. That last thought made me sad.

There was an irony to the next weekend. We had, the following morning of the drive, awoken and lay chatting about it. It resulted in us having an intensive fuck for a good hour, each of us talking about our memories. During this session, the question was raised about the 'see you next week' comment. She laughed and said it was 'just in jest.' 

I replied that I was wondering whether they would actually turn up.

"Why don't we take a drive and see?," she offered. The irony was that she came on her period mid-week, so any cheeky plans were postponed. 

As it was, we were out with friends that particular night and our journey home took us near the industrial estate. As we drove home, I decided to detour and just check, out of intrigue. 

We drove through, my wife was getting slightly excited, but we went through and out past the bus shelter with no signs of life. Disappointed, my wife sighed. 

"Oh well, it obviously wasn't taken seriously," she said. However, I had just seen up ahead a familiar figure sitting on a wall on the opposite side of the road, just up from the traffic lights. As the car approached, the lad recognised the car and jumped up to his feet, and walked across the road to our side.

I pulled the car over, and my wife pulled down her window. 

"Hi again," she giggled, "Didn't expect to see you again!" 

"I wasn't sure if you were serious," he replied, "and there was no way I was gonna dis you by not being here, just in case." 

"Well, sorry to disappoint, but I can't have any naughty fun tonight as it's the wrong time of the month. But how about I take your number, and I can contact you again in the future if an opportunity happens? Not promising anything, but it seems only fair as you made the effort." I was a little bit surprised at her honesty and request. 

The lad was quite chuffed with this offer, however, and quoted his number. My wife took it, entering it into her cell phone. 

"OK, well maybe sees you again, beautiful," he smiled, before turning and walking back away across the road. I drove off and looked at my wife. 

"I didn't know what else to say," she laughed, "I kinda felt sorry for him."  

"Are you gonna keep the number?" I asked, intrigued. 

"Hadn't actually given it any thought," she replied, "should I?" 

"Can't hurt to," I laughed. I had no real feelings either way at that moment. 

Fast forward a couple of months. 

It had been an uninteresting period, work schedules and social life had not actually left any quality sex time, so the occasional quick fuck happened when possible. 

However, we finally had a decent free timeslot together and decided to make the most of it and head on out for a date night. Making the effort to look and smell nice, I sat in the kitchen awaiting my wife to come down. She walked down the stairs a few minutes later in a flowy, knee-grazing dress, a pair of nude coloured peephole shoes on her feet. The top of the dress was off the shoulder, teasing the bare flesh of her upper chest. 

We went out and had a nice meal. She finished off a bottle of wine by herself and spent the latter part of the meal caressing my leg with a bare foot, in a very teasing manner.  We decided to go to a local wine bar, for a few more drinks, to end the evening. 

It was a nice little place, with cosy seating areas, which allowed you the chance to chat and hear each other, compared to the bustle of the average bar. We sat next to each other, chatting about life, whilst watching the couples around us. My wife removed her shoes, and brought her bare legs up to the opposite side of her from me, relaxing against the large cushion on the seat. Then she took my hand and placed it on her thigh, took a sip of wine, and placed the glass on the table. The table served a useful purpose at this point, as it blocked the view of our waists. 

I sat caressing the thigh, slowly sliding my hand up and down the material of the dress, every so often teasing the bare skin above the knee. She shuddered gently each time I made contact, skin to skin. I decided to tease some more, and as I brought my hand back up, I did so under the dress. The flowy design gave me ease of access, and I slid my hand up bare thigh until I touched the crease between thigh and pussy. I then slid my finger slowly up and down the crease, my fingers touching the lacy edge of her knickers.

They were very loose feeling, giving me easy access to reach the lips of her pussy, and then feel the labia protruding. I slowly caressed further up, past the clitoris sheath, and onto the skin just above the pussy. At this point, I realised that not only did I have surprising access, but that the usual brush of hair was missing. Feeling a little further up, I still found nothing. 

"It's all gone," she giggled, somewhat tipsily. This was a first. She had never been fully shaven. I slid my fingertips across the smooth skin, and back to the crevice folds of the pussy, and eagerly slid down to caress the swollen clit. It was already warm, and felt slightly damp. She bit her lower lip gently and quietly hummed. 

I slowly glanced around the bar. It was late and getting quieter, and I noticed the bar girl subtly looking our way. I tilted my head, pretending to look away but worked out that from her angle, she could see my hand in the crotch area of my wife. Not directly see, but easily tell what I was doing under the dress. 

My wife meanwhile was rubbing my ever-growing bulge through my trousers, her placement well hidden by the table which was fortunate, as there was no subtlety to what she was doing. I was getting dangerously turned on, and responded in kind by slipping my fingers between the wet labia lips, and inserting them slowly in her pussy while twisting my thumb round to rub her clit at the same time.

My wife was getting very turned on, and one look at the bar girl confirmed she knew. I imagined she too was getting turned on, as she appeared a bit more fidgety on the spot, trying to look busy but actually doing very little. I smiled, more to myself than anything. However, I didn't realise my wife was paying attention. 

"Does it turn you on that she is watching?" she asked quietly, "I bet she's enjoying watching. Pretty little thing. I bet you'd like to fuck her."

I was shell shocked. Both at the bluntness, but also that it wasn't said with any malice. I guessed, given recent events, that anything was open for at least discussion. 

I responded with a sudden increase in pleasuring her sensitive spots, not disguising the movement now. I was properly fingering her pussy, and it was getting very wet and swollen. I eased a third finger in, feeling the hot flesh of her pussy, forcing my fingers in deep. I placed my free hand on her breast and squeezed hard. I nibbled on her neck as I did so, increasing the pleasure, and heard a stifled groan and she shook. I eased off slightly, not wanting to draw too much attention. However, given how wet and swollen the labia felt, I realised she had just orgasmed. 

My wife, however, had no such thought of worrying about attention, as I suddenly felt her fingers grasp my zipper on my trousers and yank it open, then slide her hand in. Enjoying the sensation, I adjusted my position slightly so that she could ease her hand inside my boxers, as I wanted her to touch my rapidly stiffening member. She obviously realised this was my intention, as she quickly pushed her fingers past the elastic and onto my cock. I felt her fingers caressing around the shaft, and grasp it. Her other hand moved to my button and pulled it open, I assumed to make it easier for her position. She then eased the elastic of my boxers down over her wrist. Then with one hard yank, she suddenly eased my cock out of my boxers, which given the length was quite impressive. However, I was sat fully exposed, beneath the table, but a bit shocked and nervous. Sensing this, my wife casually pulled my shirt loose to provide a small amount of cover. 

"See, you didn't deny it," she said cheekily. "I bet you're imaging her right now. Is she sucking or fucking you?"

I didn't know what to say. 

"I was concentrating on making you cum actually," I lied, knowing full well I'd been imagining the pretty brunette naked. I had been looking discreetly at her, trying to imagine how she might look under her outfit. 

We sat, playing with each other. Fortunately, the bar by now was practically empty. I enjoyed the sensation, both of us continuing to try and appear relaxed and normal above the table level. The bar girl was currently clearing glasses from tables to the bar. She approached our table, and my wife squeezed my cock. 

"Don't you dare stop," she whispered. 

The bargirl stopped next to our table and picked up one empty glass. 

"Hi, are you folks having a good evening?" she asked politely. 

"Definitely," my wife replied, "It's been fun."

"Can I get you anything before we close?" the brunette bar girl asked. She had positioned herself now adjacent to the table and could now easily see beyond the edge. Her eyes flicked down to my wife's crotch knowingly seeing the bulge of my arm under the material. She smiled. 

"I'd love another merlot," my wife asked, and suddenly gave me a slow wank, under my shirt. I gave a small gasp at the sensation. The brunette's eyes flicked to my crotch, a sudden realisation that it wasn't just my wife being pleasured. She realised she was staring. 

"I'm sorry, I'll get your drink," she slightly stammered. 

"And one for you if you'd like to join us for a quick drink before we go," my wife asked with a pleasant smile. 

The bargirl looked round, watching the last patrons leaving. 

"Good night" she called to them. "Well, I'd like to take that offer," she smiled back at my wife. She turned to the bar. 

I went to quickly remove my hand from my wife's pussy, and to quickly dress myself, but felt my wife's hand clasp over the dress, onto my wrist.

"Don't you fucking dare," she laughed. "I want your fingers in me, until I finish my last drink." 

"But she's gonna sit with us. She'll bloody see," I stammered, getting more anxious. 

"She already knows, she's been watching us for ages. If there was any problem, we would already have been told to get the hell out," she laughed. "Besides, every time she looks at you, your cock dances." 

I panicked a little. My damn cock was giving me away. I definitely thought the brunette was attractive. But was worried I was in trouble later. 

The bargirl returned to the table with two red wines, and slid onto the spare bench space adjacent to me. My wife was still grasping my cock under my shirt, squeezing it slowly. There was no way to not know my wife was touching me, but nothing was on show. 

"My name is Emma," she offered, "Cheers." She raised her glass to her lips, eyes peeking down at us. 

"I'm Suzanne, this is Logan," my wife replied. She released my wrist and took her glass. "Cheers." 

Some idle chat followed before Emma looked at my wife and brazenly asked a question. 

"I've got to know, how did you manage to cum so controlled. If I hadn't been paying attention, I would not have known." She laughed and smiled wickedly. 

"With great difficulty," my wife laughed back. "I had to really work hard to stop any noise or show too much pleasure. Also, I guessed you were watching."

"To be honest, I wasn't sure whether you were touching, or not. Normally I would have thrown you out," Emma stated, "But I thought you looked like a nice couple, trying so hard to carefully have fun, without being blatant. I guess that impressed me, and kinda intrigued me. Also, I quite enjoyed watching." She smiled. 

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, but was still nervous at the brazenness of my wife. She had gone back to slowly wanking me, the material of my shirt barely disguising the movement. I circled my fingers inside my wife's labia and she quivered. Emma sipped some more and was again using the movement to try and disguise her looking. She was sitting with her spare hand in her lap, and I noticed her fingers gently squeeze her own crotch, very subtly. 

"Do you like watching people?" my wife asked her, in a slightly leading way. 

"Sometimes, " Emma laughed cutely. "It's free porn in a way. I've sometimes seen people in the park opposite. Logan, are you enjoying playing with your wife's pussy in a public place?" The wife part was accentuated questioningly. 

"Yes she is. And yes I do, it's thrilling to do something so daring and risqué, but without being crude," I laughed. 

"Just checking that you're a proper couple, you never know in here. All kinds of affairs go on in here! "  Emma responded. She was watching with intrigue, her fingers now discreetly grabbing more at her black trousered crotch. 

My wife laughed suddenly at the statement, and had to quickly lean forward to put her drink down before she spilled it. However, her sudden movement pushed my shirt open, and suddenly my cock was in plain sight, her hand wrapped around it. 

Emma gasped and stared. My wife giggled and looked down at my exposed cock, and then up at the bargirl. 

"Well you may as well have a proper look now," my wife suddenly let go of my cock. There it was in all of its near nine-inch glory, solid and pulsing. Emma simply stared at it. 

"Wow," she smiled. I watched her eyes staring at me, and felt a huge amount of pride. This must have been how my wife had previously felt in the woods and the industrial estate. It was a great feeling being admired by a stranger. I also noticed Emma fingers tightly squeeze between her thighs, pushing against her crotch. 

"Emma, can I be honest? I'm very tipsy and very horny. I've always wanted to see another woman holding my husband's cock. I'd really like it if you would touch Logan's cock," my wife stated, looking directly at the flustered brunette. Again, this had never been mentioned previously. 

"Wow, OK, erm. I gotta be honest, I had actually come over because I wanted to watch you close up. It turned me on watching you being played with under your dress. So when you offered me the drink, I thought 'great'. But I didn't realise you were both playing," she appeared a bit flustered but hadn't taken her eyes off of my cock. "I, erm, are you sure???"

"I'm so serious Emm, plus I currently have his finger in my pussy, and this whole thing is really turning me on. Please," my wife almost begged, kind of giggling. 

Emma looked at my wife, smiled, then gingerly reached out, her small fingers quivering slightly. The pink gel painted tips touched my shaft and I shook involuntarily. She slowly wrapped her fingers around as much as she could. I am also blessed with a decent girth, and her small hand just accentuated this fact. I pulsed in her hand. 

Emma looked at my cock, tilting her head and stared. I looked at my wife, saw her watching, and rapidly rubbed her clit with my thumb. My wife bit her lip and gasped. Emma glanced over, and recognised what was happening and smiled a beautiful smile. 

I felt a slow change in contact against my cock, and felt the beautiful bar girl slowly slide her hand up and down. She pulled the foreskin back fully, so slowly, I shuddered more, and ran her hand down the full length to the base. She sat staring at the glistening helmet, my precum all over it. 

"You should be proud of that," she smiled at me, eyes locking, "it's huge." Turning her gaze from me, she turned to my wife, "Do you want me to have a play?"

My wife was in the effects of my touch, and simply smiled and replied, "Please do, wank him for a while." She shuddered as an orgasm built up. I didn't stop, as suddenly I felt Emma wrap both hands around my shaft and start slowly pumping it. I was so turned on, I didn't slow down the fingering, forcing two in, and rubbed the swollen clit with driven passion. I suddenly felt her shudder and her thighs clamped onto my hand, and her hips jiggled on the bench. My wife came. Hard. I actually felt her juices squirt against my fingers, around my knuckles. She gasped, staring at my cock, and rode the waves. 

"Keep going, please," she stammered through her orgasm, "Both of you, oh god, please."

Meanwhile, Emma was increasing speed, not yet too fast, but definitely enjoying herself. She watched my wife orgasm, wonder in her face. She too was wriggling her hips on the bench. And I was loving it. I had never had an experience like it. She looked around just to check everything was OK in the bar, and then focused back on my cock, and enjoying playing with it. My wife came down from her high slowly and sighed. I slowly withdrew my fingers, and could feel how wet they were. She looked at me and smiled. I smiled back and saw her look at Emma. I looked back at the brunette too, and she suddenly increased speed, and I could make out her breasts wobbling under the uniform blouse. Decent sized for her frame. Loosely held in place. I could see the protruding material indicating erect nipples. This pushed me over the edge. She had switched to a one-hand wank, the other now pushing hard against her crotch. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," I stammered. Emma smiled beautifully and again we locked eyes, she was staring into me. I came instantly just from that moment, without control, staring into those beautiful brown eyes. Spunk shot out across her hand, and my shirt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I shuddered. She slowed her movement but didn't stop, watching the creamy spunk oozing down the shafts, onto her beautiful delicate fingers. She was controlling my orgasm. Then she locked eyes with me again. They were so beautiful, brown and deep. 

Emma slowly released my still throbbing member, a hanging thread of spunk connecting us. 

"I'd better wash this up quickly," she giggled. My wife laughed, and said "I'd better get you some tissue and, erm, dry myself off." She got up and moved to the toilet as Emma slowly slid out from the table. As my wife turned into the toilet entrance, Emma quickly turned, reached over, and grabbed my cock helmet, and gently squeezed, the cum squeezing through her fingers. Then she turned to face me... . And kissed me passionately on the lips. It lingered for a few seconds. 

"I want you so bad," she whispered, as she pulled away from the kiss, "and I don't ever say that or do this." She smiled at me. "I hope that doesn't scare you?" she finished.

"No, never, I'm really honoured you said it to me," I retorted, "and I think that would be incredible." Honoured?? What was I saying? It sounded so dumb. 

She smiled a massive smile, turned and moved to the bar. She turned her head and cheekily licked her fingers, a delicate trail of cum from her lips to fingertips. I sat in shock, trying desperately to take it all in. I watched her washing up at the sink behind the bar, and she dried her arms, and then did something on the bar. I looked around, hoping my wife would be back already, as I needed to clean up. Emma came over from the bar with a couple of towels. One was hot, and she quickly rubbed it over my cock. It was still solid. She pulled the towel away, and stared a little. Then handed it to me, and said, "You'd better do your shirt." 

As she did so, she handed me a napkin with writing on. 

"My number," she smiled, "In case you want it." My heart pounded, my head swimming a bit. 

"Thanks. I don't know what to say. No, I actually do," I blurted out, "Can I just say, that was incredible. And you're so incredibly beautiful." Why? Why did I say that out loud??? With that, she checked the toilet door quickly and leaned over. She grabbed my cock again and placed her lips on mine. Then I felt her tongue gently push into my mouth. I let her in, enjoying her tongue explore my mouth. I kissed her back. Passionately. Her hand was all over my cock. I reached up and felt her boob as she leant forward. It felt pert and full. Our tongues intertwined. My cock was pulsing again. She looked down. 

"Wow, ready to go again," she laughed. "Never seen that before either. God, now I REALLY want to fuck you." 

Again our lips locked, and our tongues swirled. She grabbed my cock, and started wanking me again. 

"Keep it safe and hidden, my number," she smiled a big smile, "and for the record, I've never done anything like that before. I also don't give my number to just anyone." She asserted the last bit. Hearing my wife returning, she deftly went back behind the bar. I shoved the napkin in my pocket. 

My wife appeared from the ladies, tissues in hand. I laughed and took them, quickly making out I was cleaning myself off. 

"I was very wet," she giggled. 

"Good," I replied, "that was incredible." 

"Are you ready to go?" she asked, watching me struggle to put my semi back in the boxers. "I'm just going to speak to Emma, to make sure we're good." She turned and walked to the bar. I quickly finished dressing and moved out from the table. Emma had come around the bar and gave my wife a hug. I walked over, smiling. 

"Thanks for a great evening," she said, and hugged me too. I felt her hand squeeze my bum, pulling my semi against her body. "Hopefully I'll see you both again."

My wife smiled at me and we left. Stepping outside, I again tried to absorb what had happened. I even questioned myself whether it had happened, but the napkin in my pocket reassuring me it had.