Years ago, aged twenty two I met a man fifteen years my senior. I'll call him Paddy. He had been married before he met me and also lived with several women in various parts of the world, having been a mate on cargo ships, mostly under foreign flags. He was Irish by birth and like so many of his countrymen he could charm the birds from the trees with his twinkling eyes and confident patter. Women were putty in his hands, including me. (I was married to someone else at the time.)

My husband Mike was young, attractive and ambitious. A nice guy in all respects but totally inadequate for me sexually. A brief affair with Paddy resulted in the first climax of my young life. When his ship left Port I quite literally followed him North, I left my husband of two years without even a backward glance. Through the shipping company I traced Paddy back to a small flat he owned up in Liverpool, caught up with him there and ended up living there with him in a sexy haze for three months while he reduced the size of his bank account, shore leave entitlement and large scrotum.

He was offered a mate's job on a tanker and suggested I could travel with him on it but the company insisted only married crew takes wives with them on their ships. On reflection I think that was probably the only reason he married me! I got a quickie divorce by letting my husband keep everything we had and married Paddy in a register office in Essex. We sailed for the Persian Gulf that week. It was a good life on the BP Tanker, lying around in the swimming pool all day, sun, lots of nice food and plenty of sex... I loved it. We sailed literally all over the world for almost two years on various ships, mostly large black oil tankers carrying crude.

Paddy was a very sexual man and liked to be verbal during sex and his partner to be the same, fantasizing all manner of sexual "deviations" including threesomes with both sexes and even dogs. He said several women had "performed" with dogs for him in South America and he had loved it. Within a few weeks I had progressed from just listening to, 'imagining' for him that I too was being fucked by a dog, enjoying it and telling him what it felt like... (I couldn't be accurate then though, I didn't know!

He also liked me to "tease" other men! Sometimes he would have me sit in a deckchair sunbathing by the pool, in a beach skirt with no bikini bottom on, "accidentally" letting the Chinese crewmen coming past get a glance at my knee's apart open pussy. It turned him on, seeing them finding a dozen excuses to keep walking past me glancing up my skirt... It turned me on too, having the only pussy between the 30 or so hard cocks on board that ship and Venezuela, three thousand miles to the west.

On another trip I had my first experience of threesome sex, two cocks up me at once. We were having a few too many drinks in our cabin with a young third officer who Paddy knew fancied me. We all had a bit too much to drink and when he went out to pee he asked me to show more leg and give him a 'treat.' It started with me "teasing" him but I ended up totally naked after a game of "strip poker" and then blatantly playing with myself and giving them both a "display." In the end they both fucked me silly, together, then again one after the other again and even again after I'd sucked them both hard in turn. I was sore for days...

The rest of the trip was a bit embarrassing really, for all of us, I think the story "went the rounds". Paddy was first officer and was 2nd in command of the whole ship... one didn't "do" such things in the "Officers Mess". We ended up leaving that ship (and BP) a week or so later when we got back to Tilbury, I think he was "asked" to by the Captain. (A lecherous, jealous old bastard!

Paddy had a coastal Masters ticket and went skipper on the coast for a while but didn't like it much, he was a deep water man he said. In truth he was always in trouble for not meeting deadlines. He once put a Collier bound for Rotterdam in at Shoreham with a 'suspected' steering gear malfunction and told me to drive over from Bournemouth to meet him there. The reason? I told him on the RT I was horny and desperately needed to be fucked. Thankfully for the ships owners he left the sea altogether about another six months later and we bought a boatyard on the South Coast with his redundancy payoffs.

He was an undisputedly brilliant sailor and the yard meant we always had a decent boat ourselves to use, although we kept selling them and using another until that too was "done up" ready for sale. Locals in Bournemouth and the Isle of White ports must have thought we were millionaires, we rarely took in the same boat in twice and some of them really were class boats, forty footers or more he'd picked up through Greek agents. He bought dozens of badly neglected (but sound) boats cheap down the Med, and sailed them back to the UK to completely re-fit, re-paint and sell again in the Solent. He made a fortune doing it (at first.)

We were party animals and at first we earned plenty of money from boat sales to do it. Paddy was a hard drinking, fun loving character who loved every aspect of sex. We had lots more threesome fun with several women and couples, usually out on the various boats. I did eventually consent to have sex with a German Shepherd dog, "for him".

He borrowed it from a pub for that very purpose. I certainly wasn't going to be outdone by some Brazilian floozy in turning on my man! I went "into it" heart and soul and took to it like a duck to water. It was even nicer than I'd imagined it, just a bit "quicker"

But it felt so deliciously "dirty and wanton" when I felt it coming in me. Paddy was nearly passing out with excitement watching it at close quarters.

He'd get behind the dog and get me to rock my pussy gently back and forwards onto its swollen up cock while he held him still to stop him jumping down. He would whisper excitingly "gross" things in my ear that would have disgusted me normally like,

"Go on, milk him dry, squeeze his cock harder, you're his randy bitch now. He wants to stretch you apart and flood your cunt with his spunk." ( As if I needed telling, I could feel it all right, hot and splashing come against my cervix and stretching me as his dick seemed to be swelling even bigger)

As it happened I didn't need any acting skills. I was so turned on doing it after fantasizing about it for months for that I came as soon as I felt the dogs cock slip into me. I liked it (a lot) and we did it again, two or three times, even getting our own dog later, a Collie. We had him for three or four years and he had sex with me regularly during all that time but sadly he got killed in a road accident. It honestly was like losing a lover. I was totally devastated. There again, just like Paddy, he consoled me at the time when the vet said he couldn't save him.

"It really is a crying shame but look what a life he had Di, that Mutt had more fun in his short life than catching a few frisbies!

It was true -- I went on to have sex with several more dogs over the next few years we were living together too, that part did not really affect me at all then but later the swinging did. I went off that totally after about six or seven years, I hated it.

What creased me was the phony attitude of some of the couples, the females especially. Paddy often talked of, "That time in Singapore when you did so and so" or show real photographs of us in ports all over the world but never mentioned the fact that it was actually courtesy of BP or Shell tankers. He didn't say so but it generally was always assumed by all listening that we'd been to these exotic locations on his various luxury yachts, not crewing oil tankers. The young women that were half his age were far more impressed by different boats he kept inviting them onto, then "got fed with and changed " than they should have been, it was all Blarney. Far from the owner of a small boatyard hardly turning a profit, they thought he was Onasis. Being the total womanizer he was he naturally took full advantage of the fact. He was now taking more and more advantage of the "gold mining" young women or the couples we met too and I suppose I just got jealous. I wasn't getting that much from sex with the husbands actually, I honestly would have preferred for just he and I to have a kinky dog session. It got so I more and more just 'went along' with the swinging and eventually really started to hate it.

The crunch came when he sort of "set up" an evening with a swinging couple I didn't realize were from near our own locality. We met at a drunken party in Poole and gone on back home with them. It ended up we did swap but all fucked in separate rooms. Afterwards, later in the evening on our own the wife asked me something which left me stunned and totally embarrassed.

I was helping her bring snacks through from the kitchen for the men when she suddenly whispered in confidence.

"God, have you honestly been fucked by a dog? wow, I've seen it on videos but God, but what does it feel like?

Stunned, I pretended to be a little drunk and she went and got Paddy and I said I felt sick and wanted to go home. - I did!

Later, in the car on the way home I furiously turned on him about it. He admitted he had told her stuff about me but in supposed confidence, to "reassure" her he said. I'd been quiet at first and Paddy said she'd only been worried that I wouldn't go along with things and let her husband fuck me like she was already doing with him.

He'd laughed and told her, "not to worry," He'd added I was so horny for it I'd probably let myself get fucked by a dog again too if they'd had one there, let alone her husband.

I was absolutely furious. These were strangers but living in the same town, they could soon talk or pass it on or find our address. Crazy! Fucking her with her dildo or getting her husbands cock gets back-biting gossip at worst, fucking with a dog can get me in a shit load more trouble than that.! I was mortified that he'd told her. I was upset with him, and stayed that way.

I suddenly realized I was getting well over my head with all this kinky sex. I now had a good legal job that I liked and certainly didn't want to be pasted all over the Sunday papers. I took my stand, meant it and stood by what I'd said.

I refused to go along with any more swinging or kinky sessions anywhere that he suggested after that. I simply turned off...

All kinky sex was out. I was happy to have normal marital sex with each other but gradually that petered out too. We just didn't do it anymore. I guessed Paddy wasn't a guy to be doing without and must be having an affair. A year later I found out he was.

It was with someone ten years younger than I was who worked part time in the yard and I found she had now started occasionally crewing for him, up from the Med. (Oh yes?) It went on for a while, with rows and accusations of who's fault it all was and then he suddenly upped, left and went to live with her. We split almost exactly eight years to the day from being married in Essex.

Our divorce was bad, lots of insults and accusations then flew around both ways. I felt a pervert over some of the things he said to me and threatened to bring up. I didn't even fight for half the boatyard but he was fair with the house I suppose, he let me keep it and I gave in about the yard. I just felt bitter and I suppose jealous of her.

I totally went off sex all together for about two years, even solo sex, I was just non-sexual, no dates, no sexy thoughts, nothing.

I wore my sackcloth and ashes hard over my previous sex deviations for a few years, at first I really hated myself for what I'd "done." The "dog" thing was the worst guilt trip I suppose. I felt a total pervert for actually "doing it" with dogs but I told myself mentally that it had all been down to his 'encouragement'. I'd done it all "for him", not me. He "made" me...

I know now this was totally untrue but in my mind then I had started to believe it myself! I brainwashed myself into a sort of mental 'get out'. It all creased me mentally after the divorce, for perhaps three years in all. I felt awful and just shut it all out, I really did feel like a pervert over my past. I hated sex or even feeling remotely sexy myself. I shut sex out. Paddy married his "cabin boy" after our divorce and being a sailor like him she was much more "use" to him in the boatyard. The business got back on its feet again (in truth due to her partnership influx) and I decide to leave the South Coast and all the memories. She was, in fact, better for him.

By now I had qualified legally and could work freelance, from anywhere that I could install a computer. I sold up and I moved to North Yorkshire, again in a very remote area. Just me, the moors and a cat. I worked Freelance from home and made a good living.

A couple of years later I met Paddy at a family funeral over in Ireland and I quietly gave him a hard time in the corner of a pub afterwards, blaming him alone for all the kinky sex games but he denied that vehemently and said he could prove it. He said that I'd forgotten and shut it out and he'd prove without hurting me it took "two to tango." Then I couldn't deny it, even to myself.