Husband:

My wife seems to have become fascinated with the way other people live. She recently had to visit her boss at home to give him some assistance. She was surprised at what a nice place he lived in, and for the last few weeks has been trawling the property sites to see what sort of apartment we might live in. I'm not keen to move, but I'm also aware that if my wife wants to get a new place, we will be going. She told me that she had contacted a few agents and was going to look at a few.

I did ask her if she wanted me to come, but she said that there was no need. She then mentioned that she wasn't really that keen to move, but was turned on by seeing how other people lived. As long as she played along, she was sure that the agents would keep showing her over properties. I was perhaps a little more sceptical about it. After all, most of the agents I had seen were always busy. Or at least that was the impression they gave to me.

My wife, as usual, told me I didn't really understand. She spent her days convincing high-powered businessmen to sign up for services with her company that they didn't really need. She just needed to provide the right incentive, and she said they would be showing her around as many properties as she wanted to see. She was proved right over the next couple of weeks. She saw a large number of properties, with a wide range of agents.

I had hoped that my wife would get excited, having fulfilled her desire to see other people's private places. That's how she described it to me. She certainly was keen to do this as many evenings as she could. I was left to my own devices, getting dinner ready for when he finally got home. All that looking around certainly took its toll on her; she seemed exhausted when she got home. She ate up her dinner and went to bed. She said the energy of the young agents was wearing her out.

Wife:

One of the girls at work was telling me that she had a great deal of fun looking at properties before she and her husband bought a new house. The young agents were very attentive and were very flirty, even when her husband was in the other room. She said that she got turned on so much that she jumped on her husband when they got home. I certainly wasn't going to be jumping on my husband, but being flirted with on my way home sounded like fun.

One of the downsides of my job was that the mainly older guys I had sex with didn't last that long. The thought of an insatiable younger guy was well worth trying. So I booked an appointment, but told them I wanted at least forty minutes to get a good look around. I'm not sure what he was expecting, but a slut in a transparent blouse, a very short skirt, and no underwear was probably not it. He was unsure, but when I hooked out his cock and sucked it, he got the picture.

I didn't really get much further than the kitchen, but I've found that leaning over a worktop is the perfect height. He fucked me hard, ignoring the many calls and texts on his phone. I played with my clit unashamedly as he took me from behind. I must have come three or four times before he told me he was coming too. I pushed him away, dropped to my knees, and let him finish down my throat. I wasn't going to let a drop of that escape. He told me that he had a lot of flats to show me.

After the third evening spent very productively as far as I was concerned, he told me that his boss would be joining us the next time. He had gotten a little drunk and let slip what a great fuck I was. If he was worried about me objecting to being spitroasted, then he wasn't good at reading the signs. What was even better was that his boss showed me round one of the show houses. There was no time limit, and he brought along a change of bed linen and some freshener.

Husband:

My wife told me that after spending a lot of time in other people's kitchens, she was bored with our kitchen layout and would get it remodelled. I'm happy for my wife that she has another project. She often tells me that she gets bored during the day. I'm not holding my breath that we get a new kitchen, as we have been here before. She follows the same pattern each time, every time she has a new project

First, she gets a dozen or so individual traders to come round, size up and give her a quote. If she can find more tradesmen, she will get them all to come over. A month or so later, after a procession of builders have been in the flat on the day she works from home, she selects the three best. It's time to get down to the final details, so she gets them to come over a couple more times. Most of the time, she gets them to bring some of their workmen over as well.

When I question the number of workmen who have spent hours in our kitchen, my wife generally gets upset with me. What does it matter, she explains, if she spends time making sure they know what she wants. After all, they will be spending a couple of months on the job making sure my wife gets exactly what she needs, so it's important to ensure no time or effort is wasted. She also says she wants to get the best possible price.

What does surprise me is that normally, when the price and estimate finally get here, she loses interest and cancels the whole project. What I can never understand is that my wife does this every year. The contractors all seem to know the score. That it is time wasted; they never get any work out of it. Yet for the last five years, the same contractors keep coming round to measure up for my wife, spend hours finding out what she wants.

Wife:

After being bent over a lot of kitchen worktops and taken from behind by a succession of young men, I realised that I didn't need to travel to get fucked, I could do that in the comfort of my own home. So I checked out all of the websites where contractors look for work. I made appointments for them to visit, with their tools at the ready. When they saw me in a tiny belt, with a blouse half undone, and no evidence of underwear. They quickly worked out what I needed.

The first guy gave me a solid fucking for almost an hour, promising to return the following week with the samples he had in his van. The following week, he returned with one of his tradesmen. He told me later that he owed the guy money, and the blow job I gave him brought him another week to pay. Word obviously got around the tradesmen.

I didn't have to worry about another quote as my details were passed around the fraternity. Sometimes one guy turned up, sometimes two. The best afternoon was when an older guy turned up with his two sons. He was teaching them to give quotes, and I taught them how to suck pussy. The guys kept coming all through the winter, when work was slack. There was nothing slack about their cocks, though; they filled me to the brim,

Eventually, around Easter, they had enough work to keep them all busy. So they told me that next Autumn, they would come back for another estimate. My husband had no idea just how many guys measured up his wife, both inside and out. They kept me happy all through the dark afternoons, even though they all knew I was never going to actually get a new kitchen. Although I'm telling my husband that this year, I'll get the job done properly