Written by Julie (Feb 2000)
After I had shown my disobedience to the man I thought was my friend, I was told that in all future letters I had to call him "Master", and I was left in no doubt that I had to obey his wishes in full from now on.
He still assured me that he had my best interests at heart, and that we would never actually meet, but the threat of blackmail was always hidden between the lines of his letters, and I knew I had to take the threat seriously if I wanted my life to remain as it was.
I had a high profile job, a luxury house, a boring marriage, but a few lovers to compensate for that, and I had security. All that was under threat.
The threat being dozens of photos showing me having sex, many from my teenage days, and many from my married life which were clearly in my marital home - and bed. So, I had no choice but to comply with the order that I must repeat what I should have done, but not on one, but three consecutive nights.
In the few days leading up I prepared myself mentally, but as the time approached I felt more nervous. I wasn't sleeping, my mind wouldn't stay on work. In fact it was a blessing when the day finally arrived, and when the apprehension started building up inside me I was like a bomb about to explode, full of tension, shaking and trembling uncontrollably whenever I let my mind drift. I told my husband that I had late meetings on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.
He didn't question this, if I wasn't working late I often made meetings up so I could spend time with lovers. I prepared a bag with my change of clothes and hid it in my car, and after an almost endless day at work I headed for the railway station, went to the toilets and got changed.
I stripped off my business suit, stood shivering in my underwear for a few minutes while doubts filled my mind, than pulled off my sensible shoes, panties and bra, and stood in my black stockings and suspenders while I unpacked my tight green mini skirt and a see through blouse and high heels.
I put them all on, struggling with my buttons as my hands were shaking, and packed all my other clothes back in my bag. I put my long leather coat on but left it opened as instructed and went to the lockers and put my bag in, and walked out into the station knickerless, breasts clearly visable, and bought a ticket to the nearby city.
It was a thirty minute journey on a pack train with men stood around making no effort not to look at my breasts and stocking clad legs, and it was a relief to get to my destination and walk to go to the pub just outside the station. Now all I had to do was stand outside for thirty minutes, with my coat folded over my arms, and hope that no-one approached me.
The order was, of course, that if anyone approcahed me in either the thirty minutes outside or my time in the bar, I was to make it plain I wanted sex with them. Just how plain though? And was my Master somewhere watching? Thankfully it was early, the lull between people having gone home from work and others coming out for a drink at night. Maybe this would be easier than I imagined. After thirty minutes I went inside the pub and ordered myself a Bacardi and Coke, and, as instructed I sat on a stool and drank it at the bar.
I had only been there five minutes and hadn't dared look around, when a smart businessman, mid thirties, came up and stood next to me and ordered a drink, turned to me and asked if I would join him, I ordered another Bacardi and Coke, and he sat next to me, we chatted, and I thought "If I am going to be picked up, please let it be him".
We finished our drinks and he said he had to be going. I said I thought I had been stood up. He looked surprised and said that he doubted anyone would stand me up, and that he could see I had a wedding ring on, and surely my husband wouldn't leave me sat in a bar on my own.
I said no, my husband was at home, and we had better not go into why I was there. He asked if he could give me a lift, I accepted, and we went outside to his executive car, and he opened the door for me to get in.
I was shaking all over. I wasn't used to doing the picking up, men always made the first move on me.
As he got in I asked his name, he said Peter, I said I was Julie. He asked where I was going. I nodded across the road to the train station, and said "There, but not for an hour". He started the car up, drove off, and headed just outside the city and down a dark lane near some motorway roadworks. He stopped. I could hear myself breathing.
He leaned over and kissed me, for a moment, and then for longer. His hand was on my thigh, and it slid up. He felt around, realised I had no panties on and in seconds he had my seat reclined and he was knelt in front of my seat pushing my tight skirt up and tonguing my already wet cunt.
His hands were undoing the buttons on my blouse and he threw it open and squeezed my breasts and teased my nipples and then he was up on top of me kissing me again. He stopped long enough to get a durex from his wallet and drop his trousers and he was on top of me again with his cock pushing into my cunt as his tongue went down my throat.
It was raw sex. I hadn't done it in a car for years and I had never found it easy to orgasm (never ever with my husband), but Peter had me coming in five minutes as my whole body went rigid and then into convulsions as he moaned out loud that he was coming. We lay recovering for ten minutes before we started putting our clothes back on, and then he drove me back to the station in silence.
Before I got out he gave me his phone number and asked me to ring him to let him know I had got home OK. I did, and we had a year long affair, although usually in hotels after that. When I got back to my home town I changed back into my business suit and left my clothes in the locker for the next two nights. I was so randy I even had sex with my husband when I got home, although my mind was on other things.
The following day I sat at work and wrote to my Master telling him everything that had happened and how well it had gone. I felt more confident about the next two nights.
At 5pm I was off to the station to retrieve my "whoring" clothes, and was soon on the train knickerless for my next encounter. By now I would have been disappointed if nothing had happened, and after standing outside as if I had been stood up for the obligatory 30 minutes, I went in and bought myself a drink.
It dawned on me that Peter might call in again, which would have been embarrassing. It was really quiet, I had two drinks, and was contemplating a third and final Bacardi, when a man approached and asked if he could buy me a drink. I wasn't keen, but accepted. He was around 60, smoking, shabbily dressed with dark grey greasy hair.
Hopefully he was a bit past picking up women in bars. He chatted about the weather and then said it was quieter than last night. I said I didn't know, but he replied that he had seen me picking the business man up.
He asked how much I charged. I was horrified that he thought I was a hooker, and I told him so. He wasn't convinced and said that he might not be able to match last night's guy, but he would pay the going rate. Oh shit. What was I doing? I knew I had to let him take me outside, but I wasn't going to lower myself into prostitution. I told him that I was here for a dare, and he could pick me up, but I didn't want his money. He must have thought it was his birthday.
He said he had his car outside, and I walked out with him. It wasn't anything like last nights, it was a rusty old saloon car, full of cig ends and old newspapers. I asked if he lived nearby, he said we couldn't go there as his wife would "chop his bollocks off" if she saw him even talking to me. He said he knew somewhere, and he drove ten minutes to a wooded area and reversed up a track between the trees.
He had obviously been here before, I had no idea where it was. He lit another cigarette and told me to get my tits out. I nervously undid my blouse and he put his rough hand inside and grabbed my tits and dug his fingers in and he called me an upper class whore, and asked if my husband wasn't rough enough for me.
I said I didn't like it rough. He said "tough shit lady, I've had women like you before, like playing games do you?".
I stuttered that I had a train to catch in half an hour, and asked if we could be quick. He laughed and told me to get my blouse off and my knickers.
I pulled my blouse off and lifted my skirt to show I hadn't any knickers on. He put the interior light on and felt my shaven fanny and told me to take my skirt off so he could have a good look at me. I sat in my stockings and high heels and let him grope me all over for ten minutes, then he told me to go and stand in froint of the car and finger myself.
I was aghast. He threw my skirt and blouse into the back of the car and said "Go on - do as I say or get out and walk home, you choose". I got out into the freezing darkness and went and stood in the car headlights. I nervously felt between my legs.
He shouted "Lean against the tree and do it". I moved back against the tree and fingered my cunt. He shouted "Go on, put on a show or I'm off".
I slid two fingers up my cunt and spread my legs wide, my high heels sinking in the earth. I squeezed my tits and rubbed my thighs.
I hated it. My eyes were closed. I heard the car door open and looked as he came up to me. He pushed me down to my knees and undid his trousers and he pushed his sweaty little cock between my lips and made me suck it, spunking down my throat in two minutes flat.
I just hoped he was going to take me to the station now, but he told me to lean against the tree again and he pressed himself against me and felt my bottom and bit my neck and then he kissed me, his stale tobacco breath nearly making me sick. He muttered that if I wanted to get back to town I had better get him hard again so he could fuck me.
I felt down for his cock and started wanking him as he kissed and licked my breasts. when he was semi hard I said I had a durex in my pocket but he said he couldn't get hard with a durex and he started fingering my cunt and then pushed his cock inside.
He asked if I fucked the guy last night. I said yes and he told me to tell him about it. I said we had sex in the guy's car. The old man asked if I went home and told my husband all about it. I said no. He was fingering my bum and fucking my cunt. He said he bet I went home and sex with my husband.
I gasped "yes" and he said "You're worse than a fucking whore aren't you.....come on aren't you". I gasped "Yes, yes" and he shot his spunk straight up me.
As I recovered he had his trousers up and was walking back to the car, he shouted "Come on, I've got to get home". I ran after him and I was putting my clothes back on as he drove down the streets, and he dropped me about half a mile from where I wanted to be. I had missed my train and had nearly an hour to wait, most of which I spent cleaning up in the toilets.
I didn't feel much like shagging my husband after that. For night three I wasn't feeling so sexy. Not apprehensive, nervous, horny or anything, just numb. I just wanted it over with.
By the time I was in the bar I needed a few stiff drinks and I knocked back three Bacardi's in ten minutes. Then a young body builder type came in and put his sports bag down next to me. He was about 18 and 6'2, and very muscular.
I asked if he had been training. He said yes as he ordered an orange juice. He bought me a Bacardi. I said I had been stood up and had better not have any more to drink or I would be anybodies. He bought me another, and then asked if I fancied a walk to clear my head. I said yes, and he helped me off the high stool with his strong hands round my waist, and as I jumped down my breasts bounced a bit and brushed his arms.
We looked each other in the eyes and he picked his bag up and said "Come on before I burst out of my jeans". He grabbed my hand and I followed. Out of the pub, up the side alleyway into the darkness. He held me agaisnt the brick wall and kissed me, long and passionately and his hands were pulling my blouse buttons open and he sucked my breasts and bit the nipples and then put both his hands up my skirt and pushed it up around my waist as he lifted me up to kiss me on his own level and then he undid his jeans and his nine inch cock sprang out. I put both my hands round it and gasped out loud and he turned me round to face the wall and bent me over.
I put my hands out in front of me agaisnt the wall and he grasped my hips and forced his cock up my cunt in one big push. I cried out. We could hear the people walking past the bottom of the alley. They must have heard me. He fucked me with his bare cock, alternating between squeezing my tits and gripping my hips and then he pulled out and turned me round and kissed me again and pulledme behind a big skip and he laid on the floor and pulled me down and said he wanted me to fuck him. I lowered myself onto his cock and it sank in my unprotected cunt and I started bouncing up and down on him and we were both grunting and gasping like animals as we fucked.
He pulled my nipples and put his hand round my neck and pulled me down on top of him so I was laid out with my hips and bottom jerking up and down as I took nine inch of throbbing cock in and out of my cunt. He started groaning again and said he was close, and I thought for one second about tryingh to pull off, but then I had the biggest orgasm I ever had up until then, and I cried out and rammed myself down onto his beast of a prick just as he was spurting his spunk out in bucketloads.
He gave me a couple of upward thrusts as I convulsed on top of him and then we lay still for ten minutes recovering before his cock finally slipped out of me. God that was a good fuck. We said Goodnight as we put out clothes back on and I staggered back to teh train station and went home.
I couldn't even be bothered getting changed, I knew my husband would be in bed.
I cleaned up and stripped naked before I went to bed, and we fucked. Being a devious little whore I even split the condom, just in case, thankfully it wasn't necessary. My Master told me I had done well, and he left me to find my own affairs for a while, until he got bored and decided I should fulfill some more of my fantasies
Love, Julie. xxxx
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