At the Conference
Copyright© 2016 by lucyB
Chapter 2
Erotic Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Peter takes his wife Angie to the company conference in London where they discover themselves. Peter watches while Angie turns into a slut wife.
Caution: This Erotic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Reluctant True Story Cuckold Slut Wife Wife Watching
One year to the day they announced Buckle had sold the company. The new company took control almost immediately and my new employer was a large insurance company branching out into the domestic market.
A year later, they offered me a redundancy package I really couldn’t refuse. Buckle had obviously done his bit as promised and I left work with a package that was half descent. Quite honestly, I didn’t have to work anymore and at forty-seven years old, I was glad.
With paying up our mortgage, we had very little outgoings and were able to live quite well.
Over the years that had passed, I tried numerous times to speak with Angie about that weekend in London but to no avail. She just would not talk about it and flatly refused to acknowledge it ever happened so eventually I gave up.
In the third year after the conference, we were sitting in the garden and I reminisced by saying, “We had a good time in Fiji, didn’t we?” I said quietly as I looked down the garden. Since I stopped working I have had plenty of time on my hands and now the house and garden look immaculate even if I do say so myself. I suppose it’s like anything else if you have the time and inclination you can achieve most things in life. The garden was one of them. I am not green fingered and I have no interest in plants, that’s Angie domain but I don’t mind doing the grafting and keeping it all cut, mowed, weeded and watered.
“Yes, we did dear,” Angie replied.
“Would you want to go back?”
“There’s a question,” She said drinking her wine, “Yes I believe I would. The place was so quiet. The weather was warm and pleasant and the people very friendly. Yes, I would go back.”
“How about we try and go for Christmas?”
“Oh, no not Christmas, I couldn’t leave the girls on their own at Christmas,” she replied seriously.
Her tone of voice told me that I should not pursue that idea. “I won that holiday for being top salesman that year you went to London.” I saw the look on Angie’s face as I spoke about London.
Angie gently nodded her head in recognition but didn’t say anything.
“You remember London, don’t you?”
Angie looked at me a scowl on her face, “No I do not,” she said emphatically.
“You can’t deny it never happen Angie.”
“I can and will,” she put her glass down with a heavy thud; “I know what you’re trying to do John, so don’t.”
“I’m not trying anything except to try and talk about it. For over three years, you’ve been in denial. You can’t lie to yourself Angie it happened and you can’t change it.”
“Who says I want to change anything?”
“Okay then why don’t you talk about it?”
Angie snapped back, “There’s nothing to talk about. I admit it happened if that’s what you want me to say?” Anger appeared in her voice, “Also, it will never bloody well happen again.”
Again, I knew I shouldn’t pursue this stalemate further and looked back across the garden. Yes, I was proud of my accomplishments in the garden and love showing it off.
Later that year Buckle invited us to his fancy-dress party. There were about twenty of us, all ex-employees. All of us were now either working elsewhere or not working at all.
Buckle had a huge Elizabethan property on the edge of Dartmoor. We were all in the great hall and I have to say enjoying ourselves. Angie was with me and we were all dressed in Elizabethan attire. Elizabethan clothing certainly showed off her waist and beasts.
The weather had been gorgeous over the past week or more and Angie standing in her outfit looked fantastic.
“God it’s really hot in all these petticoats,” she commented as we picked food from the buffet.
“You look like you’re wilting, your certainly look hot,” I replied, “But then so do most of the woman.”
We’d commandeered a small table to one side and sat. We started to eat and watch the other guests as they too were eating, chatting and some were dancing to the small orchestra playing off to one side at the far end.
“This is nice,” said Angie as she started to eat her meal, “Your boss has a nice house.”
“A very nice house and big, but let’s get it right he’s my ex-boss.”
“Yes, I know, but he has done well, hasn’t he?” she said questioningly while looking at me as if to say what happened to you. “Look at this place,” she said opening her arms.
“Would you like a place like this then?” I asked ignoring the obvious potential for an argument.
“Of course, silly,” Angie replied, “Who wouldn’t?”
“Don’t you like our house then?”
“Of course, I do but to have the opportunity of owning this place would have been nice.”
Another dig, “Do you think I haven’t provided for you since we’ve been together.”
“Yes of course I do, what ever gave you that idea,” Angie returned knowing she’d hit a nerve.
“Well you wouldn’t like this kind of place, with all the wood creaking, sloping floors, and woodworm and miles of polishing,” I added, “It would cost a fortune to keep this place up together.”
Angie looked about the room, “Yes I suppose your right, and I wouldn’t want to polish all the wood.”
“There see, you were once obvious now you’re not.”
Angie gave me a weak smile knowing I’d turned the tables.
“Well it was a nice thought. I suppose if we had the type of money Mr Buckle has got then I suppose we could afford to have someone do the work for us.”
“Yes, that’s a possibility, but we could also be drowning in a sea debt just trying to pay the mortgage.”
Angie frowned and drank some of her wine.
For the next hour, we chatted and drank. Then Angie started to fidget in time with the music. A cue for me to get up and take her onto the dance floor; Angie has always been the same. I have to accompany her for that first dance, after that she is happy to dance all night on her own.
Most of the music was quiet instrumental, background music but some people were dancing to it, mostly couples who were smooching slowly around the floor. The music certainly wasn’t the type Angie was used to so I got up and held out my hand, “You sure want to do this, it’s not your normal music?”
Angie smiled at me, “It’ll be okay.” She replied and took my hand.
“Are you that desperate to dance then?”
“Hey, it’s what I like,” she said still smiling, “Anyway I was beginning to think you weren’t going to ask.”
On the dance floor, I pulled her close and we slowly moved across the floor. Angie had always been a good dancer. I was always clumsy and heavy footed so always liked to sit back and watch. However, Angie needs a person to take her onto the dance floor for the first time. She categorically will not go up for the first time on her own she always needs someone. As soon as she has had that first dance, she will not come of the floor until it’s time to go or for refreshment.
As we gently moved to the music, I felt Angie gently relax against me and it quickly became a joy to hold her and for some reason tonight seemed exceptionally nice.
“You know, we don’t do this enough.” I whispered into her ear.
“No we don’t, and yes we should,” she whispered in return.
“Can you remember the last time we danced like this?” I knew the answer but I wanted to see what Angie would say - nothing more likely. Just ignoring me completely as she has done in the past, then again, she could just surprise me by answering it.
She had her head on my upper chest when I heard her say, “We were in London, gosh it seems such a long time ago.”
“And what did you think of London?” I asked her. This is only the second time she has acknowledged London ever happened. Since then Angie denied she’d ever been.
“Dirty, noisy and too many people,” she said moving to look at me closer.
“Well I think you enjoyed yourself going to the shops and buying all those clothes.”
“Yes it was fun and scary too.”
“Why scary?”
“It is when you’re on your own and never been before and don’t know your way around.”
It was a while before we spoke again, and Angie broke the romantic snugness we had together, “Did you enjoy your time while in London?” she asked.
“I was working don’t forget. I do know two people who did enjoy themselves though.”
Angie looked at me and then asked, “Who?”
The words were there to speak. I hesitated, should they be spoken, should the whole episode be allowed to surface again after all this time. If I don’t say them, I will forever wonder what went through Angie’s mind at the time. Will I get answers to my silly oppressive self-centred questions?
I again pulled her close and then whispered in her ear, “You and Sid.”
Angie froze. For just a few seconds we stood on the floor not moving. The she gently pulled away from my arms and went back to the table. I followed watching the sway of her skirts as she went.
Although I’ve had the memories of what happened back in London, I always knew that it would never happen again. Yet, I suppose now that it has happened you want to see it again, be involved again. The pleasure of watching Angie give herself was such an experience it left me wanting.
I sat and picked up my wine and drank. Our eyes met and I saw the anger in her eyes.
“What’s up why the angry look?”
“I’m angry because of what you just said.”
“And what did I say to make you angry?”
“About Sid, about us,” she flared.
“I haven’t said anything that I didn’t think was true.”
“True, what’s that supposed to mean?” Angie spat and then drank more wine, “What do you know what is truth or not?”
I shrugged my shoulders, “I can only say what I think Angie.”
“But you don’t know it’s true you don’t know whether I enjoyed what happened on those two nights do you?”
“No I don’t I have to make my own conclusions.”
“You know I didn’t want to discuss it and now we are,” she again drank her wine, “Is that all you think about is me and Sid?”
“No, I think about you most of the time.”
“Do you,” she snapped back, “What, with me on my back and Sid on top I suppose?”
“Angie I don’t know why you are getting up on your high horse about this. If you would talk to me about it maybe, I would understand better. All you do is deny it ever happened, well it did. You had sex with another man and I watched. It’s as simple as that.”
“But...”
“There are no buts Angie, that’s what happened. That man serviced you and you responded to him. You can’t just refuse to accept something that really happened. He brought you off Angie and by what I saw you came big time.”
Angie sat staring at me eyes wide with surprise. Her look was complete shock as her denial become reality.
“That was the first night the second night you were even more animated.”
“You make it sound as if it were my entire fault?”
“I am not accusing you Angie, it’s nobody’s fault and then it’s both our fault. If it wasn’t yours its mine and vice versa, we’re adults and what we do together is nobody else’s business.”
“But it doesn’t make it right though does it,” Angie came back, “I was once a respectable married woman now I’m a slut.”
“And who knows you’re a slut. You’ve not lost any friends over it have you. Your colleagues at work don’t know and probably never will. I say again, what goes on behind closed doors stays there. Yes, you are a slut but you’re my slut and love you just the same.”
“Do you. It’s not that John, it’s me, it has affected me and I don’t know what or how to accept it. I will never do it again, never. This is the end to it I do not want to talk about it anymore.”
Angie glared at me daring me to challenge her but I had to accept her decision, “Okay if that’s the way you want it. Don’t ever ask me talk to you about anything because I will take your attitude and you will have to back off just like I have had too.”
Angie gulped the rest of her wine and we fell silent. The silence ended our evening, “Come on we’re going,” I said forcefully, “If you can’t talk to me about something we’ve done together then there’s no point in us being here,” I said angrily and noticed Angie look at me realising that she’d hurt me.
We drove home in silence neither one of us wanting to instigate another argument.
Although Angie didn’t have to work, she kept her part time job going. She felt it would help keep her sane being out of the house two days a week instead of having me under her feet seven days a week.
On a nice warm June day, I went into town. I had been decorating the bathroom that ended up being a complete renovation job. I had stripped the bath out knock a wall down and decided to put in a standalone shower cubicle. Replaced the bath, sink and decorated the rest.
On this nice warm day, the whole project that had been going on for almost two weeks was very nearly completed. Yet there’s always something you forget to finish the job. That small thing that says job done, so here I was with that small thing in my pocket leaving the post office with the forms Angie had asked me to get.
I stepped through the door as a woman entered and held the door open for her. As I stood there holding the door so a man came rushing in after her. Letting go of the door I started to walk away when a voice called out, “Well I’m buggered,” the voice spoke sounding shocked, “Is that you Peter, Peter?”
I turned at the sound of my name and there I saw a man standing holding the door open. I saw his face light up and a smile form on his lips get wider as he recognised me. As I remembered the small bald podgy man it all came rushing back, “Hello Sid.”
“Peter...”
“What brings you this far south?” I asked terror-stricken. I really didn’t want to speak with this man. He was the last person I wanted to see. I could remember returning from London thinking about how I could kill the old git.
“I’m down here looking for business premises,” he replied, “Look why don’t we grab a coffee we can have a chat. I’ll buy, I just need to get a form from here and we’ll find a café.”
I nodded.
“Just a minute and I’ll be right with you,” he said with a smile. I could see the expectation in his eyes as he turned away from me. I waited outside wondering whether I should just go, return to my car and go home. He returned quite quickly form in hand. As he came through the door, I noticed that he was fatter, or should I say, his potbelly was larger and he’d lost more of his hair. The form in his hand he folded long ways and slid it into his inside pocket of his jacket.
“So, where’s the nearest café?”
“Just up the road,” I said pointing.
“Come on then,” he seemed to command, “How have you been, blimey it must be three years nearly, since London?”
I saw the leer on his face as he reminisced those two nights in London. I felt embarrassed but glad Angie wasn’t here for I am sure she would have died on the spot.
“Four actually,” I replied somewhat at a loss as to where this was going other than the obvious, and the obvious was making me angry.
We entered the café and ordered our drinks, found a table and sat.
“So, what have you been doing with yourself these past four years?” he asked with a slim smile.
“That depends on how you look at things. We had a good holiday on Fiji a couple of years back. I’d actually won that at the Conference in London.” I replied adding sugar to my coffee. “What brings you all the way down here to the West Country?”
“I’ve been here now for over a week looking for some business premises. I’ve thrown the old job in and set up with a couple of colleagues dealing with computer parts. The moneys rolling in and we need to find some decent premises instead of working from each other’s garages.”
“Sounds like you could be on a winner there. Just remember to make sure your source isn’t going to let you down. Always have a backup plan.”
We went silent and I could see he was itching to ask something, I already knew what it was.
“How’s business with you then?” he finally asked though that wasn’t the question.
“A year after London the company sold out to some enormous Asian conglomerate and I was surplus to their requirements and so offered me a retirement package, one I couldn’t refuse. I took the money and ran. Since then I’ve pottered about the house and gardens and loving every minute of it.”
“Blimey that sucks, Pete. You were also top salesman that year as well, weren’t you?”
“I was but it didn’t amount to anything. I was still beating targets when they made the offer. Beating targets didn’t seem to matter; they got rid of me anyway. I’ve heard since then that whole sections of the business have been carved up and sold,” I replied sipping my coffee and went on, “Still it’s all water under the bridge now. We’re happy, no mortgage, no money worries so I’m not complaining.”
“And Angie, how’s she?” he asked, it was a simple question yet the undertones were enormous.
“She’s fine still got her part time job. Gets her out of the house for a couple of days a week,” I replied, “Have you had any luck finding any premises?” I thought I’d try to change the subject, keep his mind off Angie.
“No not really. It’s cheap enough around here but what I’ve seen so far hasn’t been fit for purpose.”
“So when are you due to leave the area?”
“Day after tomorrow, I drive up to Bristol and then on to Birmingham.”
We fell silent again. He drank his coffee I drank mine. He was running his finger up and down the handle of the coffee mug as he contemplated his next question. Again, his face flushed as his expectation grew, I could see it in his eyes the same look he had when I first saw him talking to Angie in the hotel bar in London. My problem was I didn’t know how I was going to answer it when he does.
Then he spoke, “Look Pete you don’t think you and Angie would like to come out tonight for a meal and maybe another session with her?”
His face coloured but he wasn’t embarrassed just nervous, probably worried about how I would react.
“I don’t know Sid. That weekend has been a no no since then, I can only but ask her for you.”
There was a crash from across the café, looking over I saw a waitress had dropped a plate and made a mess on the floor. I looked back at Sid, “To be honest with you Sid I don’t think it will happen.”
He gave a weak smile in recognition but his eyes showed his disappointment. He’d asked the question and somehow, I’d managed to answer it reasonably well.
“You have a great woman there Pete,” he said frankly.
It was then I rather snapped, “Don’t you mean I have a wife who’s a good fuck?”
At first, he was surprised with my response but he shook the surprise off and said, “Yeah that’s precisely what I meant a really good fuck. Pete, I didn’t want to be that crude but as you bought the subject up, she was and I bet still is. You know her cunny was nice and tight and as I rode her she came good on my cock, didn’t she?” he said his voice turning mean as if he wanted to punish me, “And we did it the second night wow, did she sing while my cock was deep in her cunt.”
His eyes were wide and bright with lust. It was plain as salt that Sid had never forgotten those two nights in London and the impact Angie had made on him. He was looking for more and now that he has found us, I was fearful that he might do something stupid if he didn’t get what he wanted.
I gave a weak smile at his language and my own foolishness at starting this crudeness about my wife.
“Then you climbed into the saddle didn’t you Pete? I bet her cunny was slick and easy after I’d left it. You know her throat was just as tight as her cunt when you push it all the way in, and she did take it all the way in didn’t she Pete? I’m sure you’d love to see that again; didn’t miss a drop either did she, Angie swallowed the whole damn load -- what a girl!”
He lowered his head when he said the last part and I instinctively looked around to see if anybody had heard but the room was practically empty and no one was close enough to hear. As I looked away, he was mumbling I heard the words but didn’t take them. I just wanted to get away as quickly as possible.
I stood up saying, “Well it was nice meeting you again Sid, thanks for the coffee, maybe when you pass through this way again we might meet again.”
“Hey hold on here’s my card. Call me later once you’ve spoken to Angie. You never know she might want to feel my old man once again,” he said with a lecherous grin.
I nodded unconvincingly.
“You will call, won’t you?” he asked desperately.
“I said I would ask her Sid and that’s what I’ll do. I can’t promise anything will come of it.”
“No, no you’re right. But call me anyway whatever her decision, okay?”
I saw the desperation in his eyes. The lust had gone, replaced with a boyish need. I nodded, turned and left the café.
I was home twenty minutes later. I was dump struck, everything that happened in London came flooding back every sordid detail was there imprinted in my memory; the pictures just kept forming of Angie on her back with Sid on top of her, fucking her.
I sat in the garden with one of the hardest erections I’ve ever had. I felt like a teenager with his first erection and not knowing how to get rid of it. When my brain finally succumbed to the idea that it was never going to go down I laughed to myself in the knowledge that it always goes down in the end. However, my thoughts were on Angie and if she were here now I’d fuck her.
Looking at my watch, I realised Angie would soon be home so I started preparing dinner like I always do, only this time I was walking around with a tent in my trousers. I was standing over the sink peeling potatoes when it hit me. The words I didn’t pay much attention too, the mumblings Sid had made just before I left him in the coffee shop. What was it he said?
I tried to think of the words, they were there but I couldn’t put them together. Then I remembered he said, you ... you should have been there that afternoon?
I was looking at the potato lying in my hand as I thought over what Sid had said. He had mumbled and his voice very quiet. What did he mean?
Then the shock hit me, he saw Angie that afternoon. I remember the bed being ruffled, not a mess but clearly someone had been laying on it. And Angie, though she was all dressed up she did have that look about her a just fucked look. I’d ignored it because of the way she had looked – her attire as she hadn’t dressed like that for years. It had disguised the fact that Sid had visited her and fucked her again, that’s why she didn’t protest about doing it again that evening. My god, she really fucked him while I was at the conference. Christ how many times did they fuck. Maybe he had her before he went home and when I got home she still had the remains of the fuck in her belly. Fuck, no wonder she doesn’t want to talk about it she’s afraid I’ll find out, the little bitch.
Over dinner Angie asked, “Did you get the things you needed for the bathroom today?”
“Yes I did, I should have it finished tomorrow.”
“That’s great dear; did you also get the other things I asked for from the Post Office?”
“Yes, they’re on the desk beside the PC.”
“Oh, great I can now re-apply for my driving license.”
I swallowed hard and said, “I bet you can’t guess who I met today?”
Angie looked at me confused, “Well I don’t know it could be anybody. Was it Betty I haven’t seen her for a while?”
“Nope,” I replied with a knowing smile.
“How about Norman and Sarah I hear they’ve just had an extension built on their house?”
“Nope”
“Who then, I know Charlie and Amanda?”
“No, Charlie and Amanda moved to France.”
“I don’t know then,” she said disgruntled, “Who was it?”
“I met Sid today.”
“Sid, Sid who?” she asked unknowing.
“You remember Sid, don’t you? We met him in London,” I said as normal as possible.
“London... ,” she replied her voice trailing off as her eyes grew wide as she remembered those two days in the capitol. “Oh that Sid,” she got up from the table with her plate in hand and went to the sink.
“He asked after you,” I said, “And we had a coffee.”
“You had a coffee with him?” she said incredulously spinning around to face me.
“Yes we had a chat; apparently, he’s looking for business premises.”
“What here in town?” her voice was subdued and slightly submissive. She leant back against the sink.
“Yes, but he can’t find anything suitable, been looking for nearly a week. He moves on to Bristol and then Birmingham I think he said.”
“Oh,” she replied as she turned back and started to wash up the dishes.
“He wants to know if you’re up for another session.”
Angie stayed silent; I wondered what was going through her mind. The last attempt at trying to discuss it was a miserable failure and we haven’t since. The silence was thick with memories as I too recalled my wife on those two occasions. My recollections were clear and vivid as I saw her again in my mind’s eye.
“You know what I think about it so why didn’t you just tell him we weren’t interested?” she asked not turning round.
“I don’t know, I honestly don’t know,” I replied and that was the truth, we simply hadn’t talked about it.
She went silent again and as time passed, she had the dishes washed, dried, and put away. For some foolish reason, I seriously thought she was going to say yes call Sid and get him to come over. However, she suddenly turned round with a plate in her hand and said, “No I don’t want another session.”
Angie stood there looking at me quite emphatically.
“Okay,” I said getting up. I picked up my mobile and entered his number in, taking the number from his card. It rang for quite a while and I was about the hang when he answered.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hi Sid, its Peter.”
“Oh, hi Pete. Sorry for the delay but I was under the shower.”
“That’s okay. I’ve spoken with Angie and as I said earlier it’s a no.”
“Oh okay,” replied Sid forlornly. I could clear hear is disappointment.
“Sorry about that mate.”
“Well at least you tried, I suppose dinner is out of the question?”
“... ‘fraid so mate,” I got up from my seat and walked to the kitchen door asking, “You said something this afternoon as I was leaving but didn’t quite hear what it was, something like ‘that afternoon’ I was wondering what it was you said?” I turned back to look at Angie. She was standing beside the sink, head down washing the same cup over and over again.
“Ah that,” he said, I could tell he was smiling, “Sure, I met Angie in the foyer of the hotel and we went up to your room. I have to say Pete she was very willing.”
“Was she?”
“Oh yes, she had it twice up her swallowed on the third. I’m guessing she didn’t tell you then?”
“No she didn’t. Thanks for that Sid.”
“No problem. Say what about just us two for dinner?”
“I’ll pass on that Sid, thanks all the same. I’ve got quite a bit to think about now. See you around sometime.” I cut the call and put my mobile on the side. Angie was still washing the same cup.
Angie never looked up.
From the kitchen, I went to the lounge and sat. I was confused yet somehow excited at the same time. Bumping into Sid today brought back a lot of memories and new thoughts. Images went through my mind of Sid and Angie together, but new images materialised of Angie and Sid that afternoon. Was he just setting me up or was he telling the truth? I had, for some reason, always remembered the way the bed was all ruffled especially after room service would’ve tidied the room in the morning. What did Sid have to gain by saying what he did. It certainly wouldn’t get him back in the saddle then was just trying to split Angie and me up out of spite. Well he didn’t sound vindictive at all everything said between us seemed like two old friends talking about a good time from the past. Sid seemed to accept the answer he was given with no quibble at all. Does that mean he already knows where we live and is planning on turning up at the house seeing Angie behind my back. Had he already contacted Angie, he’d got her number the last time they met, and they have already made plans?
Angie then entered the room and sat opposite. She wouldn’t look at me and I could see a fearful expression on her face. Picking up the TV remote she switched on the TV. I, on the hand wanted to know what happened in London, wanted to know if it’s true what Sid had said.
“Angie is there something you want to tell me about London?”
“Like what?”
“About what happened in London?”
“There’s nothing to talk about as far as I’m concerned,” she replied, “Haven’t we been through this before. Didn’t I say I didn’t want to talk about it anymore?”
“Yes you have, but this is different Sid has found us. It wouldn’t take much to find our address and make a visit,” I said, “And you could be here on your own when he arrives.”
Angie looked at me and I could see her resolve was unchanging, “I still mean it John, there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Isn’t there?”
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