In the late 1990's my now ex-husband, John, and I used to go out every Saturday night to listen to a blues band in the Rotterdam Bar in Belfast. John's best friend, Les, used to go with us, and we took turns driving, which meant that the driver would refrain from drinking alcohol that evening.

The evening progressed as it always did. We sat with a group of our friends from the Upper Ormeau Road. The band played their usual set routine. I danced with most of the guys in our company, but mostly with Les. The time flew by, and all too soon, it was last orders and we left.

Les was the driver that evening, so he had remained sober, unlike John and I, who had consumed just a little too much booze.   I sat in the front of the car with Les, while John got in the back and fell asleep for most of the short drive home.

When we arrived at my house, I went inside and put on the kettle to make coffee. I had prepared a few sandwiches earlier, and I set everything out on the table. Les had to help John out of the car and support him while he staggered into the living room.  John sat on the sofa and nodded off to sleep again.

Les and I sat at the table, chatted, drank tea and ate the food which I had prepared earlier. He asked me how my recent holiday in Spain had gone, and I told him that it had been wonderful and that I had spent most of my time on the beach.

John suddenly woke up and said, "Yeah, she was running around the beach with her tits out and flirting with all the guys. She thought I didn't notice, but I was watching her from the beach bar."

John was correct. I had indeed been flirting with some of the young men, who had been playing volleyball and had been tempted to join one of them for a frolic in the nearby sand dunes, but decided not to, because I was aware that John was keeping his eyes on me.

John told Les that he had watched me posing for photographs and that I had given my camera to one of the young men, who was directing me while taking the pictures

Then John said, "The photos came back this morning. Maybe Les would like to see them and give his opinion? I'll go and get them."

At that time, I was unaware that the photographs had come back. I had posted the film reels off to Belmont photo services the morning after we got home from Spain, and I had hoped to intercept them before John got to see them.

There were two packs of pictures. One of them contained mainly pictures of me posing topless on the beach, but the other pack contained quite a few pictures that I didn't want John to see.

John collected both envelopes from the hall and returned to the lounge. The envelopes had been sellotaped, and John was having difficulty opening them. He threw them down on the coffee table in frustration and walked into the kitchen to get a couple of cans of lager from the fridge.

I knew that John would be back soon, so I opened the first pack of pictures. This was the pack that I didn't want John to see, so I hid it below the sofa and had just opened the second pack, as he returned to the lounge.

John sat down at the table beside Les and snapped the envelope out of my hand. He took all the pictures out of the folder and had a good look at each of them before handing them to Les. Most of the pictures were topless poses of me on the beach wearing only a thong bikini bottom.

I watched Les as he studied the pictures and noticed that he seemed to be more interested in the pictures that showed my posterior than the bare breast pictures.

I didn't mind Les looking at them. I was just a little too tipsy to care, and when Les complimented me on my sexy figure, I felt very flattered.

John checked the photos again and then addressed Les.

"Would you like a wife who flaunts herself in front of a dozen complete strangers with hardly any clothes on?"

Les didn't answer, but I wasn't going to let John get away with what he'd said. I told him that if he'd been with me on the beach instead of getting drunk in the bar, I'd never have found myself in that situation in the first place.

John responded by calling me a cheap tart before storming out of the lounge. He went upstairs to the bathroom. I could hear him muttering to himself, but after a few minutes, all went silent.

Les continued looking at the photographs, and he picked out a few that he liked in particular.

"So, you prefer bums to boobs, Les?"

Les just smiled back at me and told me that he thought that all the photos were very sexy. I thanked him for the compliment and moved closer so that I could kiss his cheek, but we ended up in an embrace and a full-on French kiss that lasted for minutes.

Les and I continued kissing for a while, and I was starting to feel very horny. I decided to see what had happened to John, as he'd been missing for half an hour.. I went upstairs and found John lying on top of the bed. he was fast asleep, so I decided not to wake him. He was drunk and would be asleep for hours.

I made my way downstairs, and Les was still thumbing through the pictures. The bulge in his jeans was more than noticeable.  I took the pictures off him and asked him if he wanted to check out the other set of photographs.

I retrieved the photos from below the sofa and opened them. I spent a few minutes sorting them out before showing them to Les. They fell into three categories.

I started by showing him some more photos of me in very similar poses to the photos that he'd already viewed. The next batch of approximately a dozen was of me and some of the young men whom I'd spent the afternoon with. Most of them were innocent, although a few of the guys had placed a hand on or near my boobs or on my bum while having their picture taken.

The last batch of ten photographs was far more daring. I had taken off my thong and had posed with some of the guys. One picture showed me on my knees, having my pussy rubbed by one of the young men, and another showed my pussy being deeply probed by a smiling youth's fingers.

The last few photos showed me and Kevin. He had removed his shorts, and I was either holding his erect cock close to my lips or sucking the tip. All the other guys stood close by, so that no one else on the beach was able to view us.

"Did you suck him off, Kate?"

I told Les that I had just wanked him a little to keep him hard while the pictures were being taken, and that I had gotten a bit carried away because of the attention that I had received from the young men.

It was now obvious that Les had become very excited. The bulge in his jeans was now much larger. I couldn't help myself. I reached down and ran my hand over it slowly. Les didn't object, so I  unzipped his jeans and freed his very erect cock. I had guessed from the bulge that he had a big cock, and I was correct. He was easily eight inches and thick, too.

I pulled his jeans down to his knees and went straight down on his cock, doing my best to perform deepthroat. Les was moaning softly and trying to loosen the buttons on my blouse at the same time.  I got up and took off my blouse, leather skirt and g-string, before lying on my back on the floor. Les took off his jeans and knelt down beside me. I sucked on his cock while he fingered my pussy and rubbed my aroused clit.  Les was getting harder all the time, and my throat was getting sore from deepthroating him. I told him I wanted to feel that big cock inside me.

Les positioned himself over me, and I took his cock in my hand before guiding it into my pussy. I knew Les couldn't last long, but the feeling of that big cock inside me was amazing. I told him to ride me hard. It had to be quick. John could wake up at any moment and discover us.

Les did as he was asked and fucked me hard. I told him I was a whore and I wanted his hot cum inside me. That did it. Les's cock stiffened, and he thrust deep inside me. I felt it spasm wildly, and his hot cum gushed out, filling my pussy and dripping from me onto the floor. Les collapsed on top of me. I held him tight and kissed him wildly, whilst milking every last drop of cum from his cock with my pussy.

At that point, I heard movement upstairs. Les pulled out of my cum filled pussy and zipped up his jeans.. I listened carefully, but John had gone to the toilet and then back to bed.  I escorted Les to the door, wearing just my half-cup bra and stockings. His cum was now dripping from me, and my lace top stockings were soaked. I kissed him and promised to meet again for a much more intimate session..

I went to the bathroom for a quick shower, put my stockings and bra in the wash. That only left the puddle of cum on the floor to deal with. A quick wipe with a tissue, and all traces of my infidelity had been erased.

I slept on the sofa that night. It's impossible to sleep in the same bed as John when he's drunk.