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Mystery Girl

We had finally secured a baby sitter who was prepared to look after a two year old and a pair of four-year old twins, so Sally and I decided to make a night of it.

When Sally succumbed to my suggestion that she should go to the fancy dress party as Princes Leia, I nearly came in my pants.

"If you're choosing what I have to wear, Harry," she said, then I'm choosing what you have to wear." Why did I feel that victory and suddenly turned in to defeat?

So when they day of the party came, and the costumes from the costume supplier arrived, I was somewhat pissed-off at finding a huge 'Chewbacca' suit beneath the wrappers. Of course, Sally found it hugely amusing, as she took her own costume up to the bedroom to change.

The furry costume was huge, thick, and I knew straight away that I was going to boil alive. With the head on, I could barely see a thing, and movement of any kind was energy-sapping.

Sally emerged from the bedroom, and it was the only time I was glad I had the head on, as my disappointment would have been obvious. Instead of the bikini-clad slave-girl-Leia I had been expecting, Sally wore the white, silky dress that Leia had worn in the first Star Wars film.

I removed the Chewbacca head for a better look.

"You disappointed?" She could read me like a book. "Well, there was no way I was going to go in that bloody stupid bikini-thing, if that's what you had thought. Not with all your pervy mates there. Besides, don't you think I look sexy?"

She gave we a twirl, and the splits in the dress flashed her thighs beautifully. She jiggled about and her breasts bobbled under the material. Sally was only a petite five feet three, and her huge 30EE boobies were always mesmerising. I was about to check with her if she was wearing a bra, but the way her breasts moved and the glimpse of nipple under the thin nearly-translucent material, confirmed she was not. I thought twice about advising her how transparent her dress was in certain light, but decided that if she wasn't going to play fair and wear the bikini-Leia costume, then this was the next best bet.

The taxi driver who drove us to the party was most amused, and offered to pick us up.

"No, thanks," I said. "We have a minibus collecting us all at the end."

We were fashionably late, and the party had already gotten in to full swing. I was only moderately pissed off at the immediate attention Sally received from the men, but it was probably my own fault for not suggesting she go as Queen Victoria or something equally as plain.

I plodded myself off to the kitchen to get us some drinks, a task which proved very hot and very hard. When I got back to the living room, Sally had disappeared, and I found myself talking to two guys from work (Dracula, and a Catwoman). I had a few beers with them, and then got caught up with a few people I didn't know, who were debating the correct order in which to watch the Star Wars films. It' amazing just how many opinions there are on this, and even though I didn't give a rats ass, it was intriguing how they formulated their opinions.

After an hour or so of this, I drifted away back to the kitchen to top up my drink.

Sally was chatting to a guy who had his back to me. He was dressed as a native American Indian, with huge headdress of feathers, leather top, and leather loincloth. He was a little portly, which made him look slightly ridiculous, but as there was nobody at the party who was dressed sensibly, I could see how he fitted in.

She was locked in close conversation with him, smiling gently, with her eyes half-closed as she does when she's drunk more than she should. So she didn't see me enter the kitchen. As I came round the side of them, I recognised his face as being that of Dan, an old school friend of years ago.

I'd heard that he had moved back into the area, and rumour had it that he had been kicked out of his rented accommodation by his landlord, after having an affair with his landlady. This didn't surprise me, as he'd always had this fantasy thing about married women even when we were at school. He wasn't especially good looking, with scraggy flyaway hair, a weak chin, an a dismal dress sense. Although he had never been married, he had a series of long and short term girlfriends, flings, affairs, and partnerships, usually due to the sob-stories he told women. Women seemed to take pity on him, and wanted to 'fix' him.

As I listened, he was telling Sally about how his last relationship had ended, after she had promised to go away with him, get divorced, and buy a flat together in London. Then, suddenly, just as they were about to start a new life together, she changed her mind and dumped him. And now he just didn't know where he was going in his life, what to do, or who to turn to. He'd returned to his mother's house, and although he loved his mother dearly, he felt it was wrong to impose himself on her for too long, as she was getting old.

"You poor thing," Sally said as he finished, resting her hand on his arm.

"Dan!" I exclaimed, as though I was surprised to see him. "Is that you, Dan? I hardly recognised you." I gave him a playful punch in the belly, that was perhaps a little too hard.

"Wha? Who the fuck are you?"

I took my Chewy head off. "It's me, Harry, you dickhead."

"Ohh, Harry, hi, yes." He took a pace back as I offered my hand. Perhaps he thought I was going to smack him. "What are you doing here?"

"Just getting a drink. One for my wife too. Fancy a coke, Sally?"

"No, I'll have another gin an tonic."

"You sure? You sound a bit slurred?"

"I'll get you one, Sally," said Dan, pushing past me to get to the fridge. I didn't like the amount of gin he threw in to her glass, but Sally took it from him, giggling.

I tried to prize her away from Dan, as he just made me feel uneasy. The way he stared at her breasts all the time, and the way she was so eager to hear of how down on his his luck he was, about the constant failure of his love life, and how he so wanted to turn over a new leaf but just didn't know where to start.

Sally eventually had to pee and so I followed her to the toilet.

"Are you going to talk to your husband tonight?" I must have sounded annoyed.

"Why should I, when he's being such an asshole?"

"What? How?"

"To poor Dan. Haven't you heard how he is? He's supposed to be your friend, you know."

She closed the bathroom door on me. I suddenly felt the urge to pee too, so I dragged my Chewbacca suit up the stairs to the upstairs bathroom. After ten minutes of getting out of the thing, peeing, throwing cold water over my face and under my arm pits, I dragged the suit back on, silently cursing Sally's choice of evening wear for me.

Back down in the kitchen there was no sign of Sally and Dan. I wandered in to the living room, hallway and dining room, but couldn't find either of them. Somebody suggested looking outside in the garden, as they had seen Sally going outside presumably to cool down.

I found Sally talking to a group of her girl friends, sitting on a bench in the corner. There was no sign of Dan, and I was relieved she had shaken him off. I chatted some more to the guys about work, football, and fishing, and hadn't noticed that it was dark until somebody turned the outside lights on.

We were stood in the garden down the side of the house. The downstairs toilet window was open, and from it came the grunting sound of a man. Like a set of stupid schoolboys, we staggered our way nearer, to see Dan's face in profile. One of the guys, Ray, crept nearer, and spoke a few words. Dan grunted something back before throwing open his mouth and having a huge orgasm.

"What the hell was that about," asked Simon, a guy I knew from work.

"Dan's gotten himself a blowjob," Ray chuckled.

"Who?" asked another guy.

Ray shrugged. "He just said she was good. Just some slut."

The guys laughed it off and we headed back to the kitchen for more beers. We saw Dan coming out of the downstairs toilet, but had no woman with him.

In the kitchen, I was surprised to see Sally, as I thought she was still in the garden. She was standing by the sink drinking a pint of water.

"Glad you're trying to sober up," I said.

"I washnt drunk. Much," She slurred.

"Good. I'm just thinking about your head the next day. I don't want you to be ill, that's all."

"God, Harry, you're sush a killjoy. Dun you wan me to ava good time?"

"Of course I do, sweetheart." I kissed her on the head.

Just after midnight, the minibus arrived, and we said out good-buys to our hosts. I was one of the last on, as, having the monstrous Chewbacca costume, I needed the wider disabled seats at the front. I looked round for Sally and saw she had a place on the back row, next to Dan.

The whole minibus was singing, people were standing and swapping seats, shouting directions, and messages about where to drop off the next person. I saw Sally's head on Dan's shoulder, and I fumed at how close they were sitting together. I noticed that there was nobody on the back seat with them.

The next time I looked, her head was still on his shoulder, but her eyes were closed, her head had tilted back, and she was biting her lip fiercely. I removed the stupid Chewy head to see better, as it was dark in the minibus and difficult to see clearly. A woman had stood up two rows back, and was singing something to a guy across the isle, so I lost sight of Sally. I wanted to try and get back to her, but the minibus was just too full. So I sat back and fretted to myself.

The minibus stopped a few times in quick succession, and soon it was only half full. I looked to the back seat, and Sally was now on her own. I was relieved at this, but bemused as I hadn't seen Dan get off. But there again, I hadn't been watching. As I looked at her, her face turned from a relaxed, far-away drunkeness, to that of sudden pain. She looked downwards, her mouth opened, and then her head went back, eyes closed, gasping. Was she masturbating, here on the coach? If she was as horny as that now, then it bode well for me when we got home.

The next stop was ours, and Sally was pushed forward towards me and the door. I grabbed her round the waist and we stepped out of the minibus into the cool of the evening. We waved our goodbyes, and as the minibus pulled away, I thought I glanced Dan's face though the back window.

I woke late on Saturday morning, and Sally was still dead to the world. She finally emerged from the bedroom in the evening, and slumped herself on the sofa holding her head. Although she vaguely remembered talking to Dan, she said she couldn't remember anything about the latter half of the night or the ride home.

This didn't surprise me, as she'd had amnesia before when she was drunk. Once, before we were married, she'd gotten so plastered that she'd removed her top and bra, dancing topless in a bar in town. Even though there had been plenty of photographs to capture the moment, she refused to admit any recollection of it.

I remained uneasy about Dan's presence, and my concerns increased when I came home from work and she let it slip that she'd had lunch with Dan. When I asked her when, she eventually revealed that she'd 'bumped in to him' a few times since the party. I told her I wasn't happy about this, as Dan had a history of being a womaniser. But she just repeated lines from his sob stories.

"He's down on his luck, Harry, and he just needs a break. He's looking at living in cheap bed and breakfast places at the moment, so I thought he could come and stay with us for a while."


"Just until he gets settled. He's having to impose on his mum. She's such a lovely woman, and Dan loves her so much. But he's having to sleep on the couch. And we have a whole room spare..."

"No. Absolutely not. Our place isn't big enough anyway. And we've got three small girls who tear up the place. I don't want him wandering out of the bathroom one morning and...and.."

"Oh, Harry, grow up."

"He's not staying here, Sally. I haven't seen him in years. I don't really know him any more, and neither do you. I know he's been selling you hard-luck stories, but that's what he does. That's what he always does. It's just his technique."

"Technique? For what?"

I paused, but I hadn't actually got anything stuck in my throat. "For trying to get inside your knickers."

"Oh for God's sake. You really are bloody immature sometimes. Besides, you said yourself, you haven't seen him in years, so you don't really know him. He's not like that."'

"I don't care what he's like, he's not staying here!"

Our discussion had turned in to a row loud enough to wake the twins, who peered out from their bedroom, wide eyed.

Of course I got the cold shoulder from Sally for the next few days, but I just got on planning our summer holiday trip. We were going camping with a large group of friends down to the south coast. The campsite was just off the beech, and if the weather was good, we would have a week of building sand castles, collecting shells, and barbecues. I was excited as we hadn't had a holiday for a few years, and this might just be an opportunity for Sally and I to rekindle our pre-marital sexlife.

We were all set on the morning of our departure, with the kids buckled in to our MPV, and the tent and gear stashed in the boot and roof rack, when Sally picked up a call. She spoke for several minutes, laughing with whoever had called. It sounded like she were discussing cooking arrangements.

"Who was that?" I asked as we set off down the road.

Sally looked a little uncomfortable. "Well, you might as well know now. Dan will be coming on holiday with us."


"It's not just me. Some of the others told him to come along too."

"Oh, Sally, why did you do that?"

"He's on his own. He's lonely. The company will do him good."

We argued for an hour before it went silent. And remained silent for the next two hours, when we arrived at the campsite.

I busied myself unloading, sorting the kids out, and putting up our huge three-bedroomed tent. I set up the kitchen gear, tables, and chairs in the huge porch, and started inflating the air beds. There was the predicable row between Dee and Indy, the twins, as to who was getting which room. I looked round for Sally to arbitrate while I completed pegging out, but she was nowhere to be seen.

I took the three kids up to the campsite shop and bought a few provisions, before heading back down, checking in with all our friends. I asked few if they had seen Sally.

"She's over at Dan's tent drinking wine," said one.

I dragged the kids over to Dan's tent, with the aim of making Sally feel guilty. But she was already sozzled enough not to notice.

"Excuse me," I said eventually to Dan, grabbing Sally be the hand. "My children are in need of their mother."

We put the kids to bed and then I put Sally to bed. Dee and Indy had claimed a room each, which left two year old Libbie sleeping between Sally and myself.

Any thoughts of this holiday having any romance at all for me were fading rapidly.

The next day we all took off for the beach. It was gloriously hot, and we spent all morning jumping in and out of the sea, applying layers of sun lotion, building sandcastles, and playing cricket.

Around midday, the mums agreed they would sort out lunch for us all. The yummy mummys, clad in bikinis and bathing costumes, set off back up the beach, whilst us dads continued with the cricket with the kids. When the mums returned, Sally was wearing a new tiny white bikini. So tiny was it that it barely covered her beautifully big boobs, and she looked utterly fuckable.

I was walking up to her to say how much I loved the way she looked, when Dan beat me to her. Sidling up to her, he wrapped his arm round her waist.

"I knew you'd look good in that," he said. "You're really beautiful, Sally. By far the most beautiful woman here. I so wish I could have someone like you."

I was going to launch in to a rant about that being the biggest load of bullshit I'd ever heard, but all the mums were cooing and ahhing over him, saying how sweet he was, that any woman would be lucky to have him, and they were sure he'd find somebody on this holiday. I was flabbergasted. Not only had Sally bought his crap, but so had all the other mums too.

One other thing that irked me, was how he had said "I knew you'd look good in that" as if he had been expecting her to put on that skimpy bikini, and like he'd seen it before.

That evening, the consensus was that some of the adults would hit some of the bars in town. We drew lots to see who would be baby sitting, and I drew one of the three short straws. I was chatting to Ricky and Paula about how we would watch all the kids in six tents, when the taxis arrived to take the others in to town.

Sally popped out of the tent wearing a very sexy pale blue linen dress, with tiny straps, and a matching blue bra that was clearly visible. Her long auburn hair was down her back, and her hips wiggled as she strolled toward the taxi in a pair of killer high heels. She looked good enough to eat, and I tried to get near her to say how good she looked, and how pissed off I was about not being able to go with her. But she had been pushed inside the taxi, which was rammed with other bodies, eager to get into town.

The taxi pulled away and to my dismay I saw that Dan had taken a seat right beside Sally.

Ricky, Paula, and I placed three deckchairs in the centre of the six tents, where we could keep our eyes on all the doors and openings. We cracked open some wine and began chatting. Every few minutes or so, we'd wander round the tents, peeking in to see little faces asleep, and the occasional grunts and snores. By midnight we'd finished our third bottle, and the first of the taxis had arrived back.

"You look shattered," said Ricky. "You hit the sack."

I couldn't say no to that, so headed back to our tent. Sally's white bikini was laying on our airbed, and I began to stiffen at the sight of it. It felt so soft and smelt of her. I placed it beside my pillow, moved the sleeping Libbie to one side, and fell asleep.

It was some time later that I heard the taxi. It stopped, and the doors opened. There was some commotion and what sounded like an argument developing. Putting on my trousers, I wandered outside. Ricky was paying the taxi driver, and holding on to Sally, who could hardly stand.

"No money," said Ricky. "Don't worry, I've got it covered. You get her to bed."

"Come on, honey," I said, taking Sally under the arms. "How are you feeling?"

She spoke, but it wasn't really English.

"Have you come back in the taxi on your own?" I asked, looking round. Again, she mumbled something. I looked over to Dan's tent but there was no sign of life.

Eventually I had to carry her to bed. I peeled her out of her dress, unfastening her bra, and helping myself to feel of her melons. Pulling her dress down, I was shocked to find no knickers. The thought of Sally going commando in that dress made my semi into a fullie. She looked utterly fabulous, lying naked on our airbed, with the light from a nearby lamp illumining her bumps and curves.

I removed my shorts and lay on top of her.

"Sally? Sally?" I whispered. If she could hear me, there was no response, apart from a mostly incoherent groan. I kissed her face, and lips, hair, ears, everywhere. Suddenly I was consumed with lust. I had to have her, now. I knew it was probably wrong of me to take advantage of her in this predicament, but she was my wife after all. I kissed her tits, taking first one and then the other in my mouth. They were always too large to fit inside my mouth, but I always loved seeing if I could take just that little bit more. I feasted on them, suckling her erect nipples, and stimulating a moan from her. My fingers reached for her pussy, smooth and freshly shaved. My God, she was so wet! Utterly soaking.
She moaned something that sounded like, "No more" but I wasn't really listening, and continued to finger fuck her, whilst kissing her pelvis and waist. Her breathing had increased, and I could sense her hips moving in rhythm. I could wait no longer, and praying that little Libbie would stay asleep, I pushed my cock home.

I slid straight in to her, right to the bottom. Normally, I need to work on her for some time before she can accept my full width. But tonight she was magnificently moist. As I pumped away at her, my mind wondered what it was that had got her so wet. Was it going commando, the alcohol, or had she gotten so sexually aroused at something that her panties had become too sodden to wear?

Little moans escaped her lips as I pounded into her, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. Finally I exploded inside her, blacking out for a second with the effort. I rolled over, catching my breath. An urgent need to pee made me leave the tent for the toilet block. On the way back, I could hear Ricky's voice, chatting to some of the others who had been out in town.

"So who is Dan's mystery girl," Ricky was asking.

"We don't really know," said another voice. "He must have picked her up to to tonight, I guess. Either way, she must be pretty loose as, by all accounts, he had her in the loos twice."

"Jeesus. What's her name?"

"All I know is that he called her Cunnylips."

There were chuckles from the men, and tuts of annoyance from the women. I made my way back to our tent, checked on Dee and Indy who were fast asleep, and then joined Sally and Libbie before falling into a deep, satisfied sleep.

It was afternoon down at the beach when Sally finally emerged along with her hangover from hell that she'd brought with her.

"Don't ever let me drink that much again," she said.

"I would have tried to stop you if I'd been there and not baby sitting."

"What? You mean you weren't at that club last night? Didn't we...?"

"I drew one of the three short straws if you remember? No?"

She looked vague and puzzled, so I handed her a bottle of water.

Nobody drank much that night, and we all sat around on deck chairs in small groups, a lighted fire here and there, with blankets around to keep off the night chill. Ricky, Paula, and I had been the only ones without a hangover, but with no alcohol on site, and with nobody willing to go look for any, it was the job of Ricky and I to take a walk to the local off- license.

This proved tricker than we thought, and we got lost several times on the dark, unlit backroads than led to the village. The offlicense was closed when we got there, but we managed to scrounge a few bottles of table wine from the local pub just before they were closing.

We arrived back at the campsite an hour and a half later.

"You go on. Take the wine," I said to Ricky. "I'm going to pee."

After I'd relieved myself, I walked down through the campsite. As I passed Dan's tent, I heard noises coming from within. Slurping, kissing, moaning. I'd noticed that I hadn't seen much of him that evening, so I stopped, just for a moment.

"Ohhh...fuck..." A loud whisper. It sounded female.

"You like that, Cunnylips?" Dan's voice was hushed.

"Ohh, God, yesss," she hissed back. There was more slurping, and more moaning.

I know it's perverted, but I wanted to see if I could identify her. There was a small open flap near the base of the tent, and I crouched down on hands and knees peering in. Through the insect mesh of the tiny window,I could just see Dan's head between a pair of bare legs. He was working away at her with his mouth and tongue, whilst his hands ran up her sides. I couldn't see what his hands did to her next' but it made her squeal.

Dan chuckled to himself, and started kissing her pelvis, moving up to her abdomen, and then I lost site of his face completely. In to view sprang his erect cock, poking out from his flyhole. I saw his hand move down to take hold of his shaft and began to guide himself into her.

"Oh, God no, Dan!" she whispered. "Not here. Somebody will hear."

"I know you like it. I know you want me. You wanted me last night, didn't you."

"Did I? Oh, God..." He pushed himself in to her. She cried out, so loud I thought someone would come.

"Shut the fuck up, Cunnylips." He must have stuffed something in her mouth, as her cries became muffled as he pumped her. There was no gentleness about him, no tender seduction, no slow and gentle lovemaking, just a fierce piston designed to make her cum hard and quick. Her knees came up and her legs moved further apart, a foot hitting the mesh on the flap I was staring through.

His ass rose and fell rapidly, and her stifled moans became louder and more urgent. I tried to stuff my face closer, to see if I could see any more. I saw her hand reach down his back, caressing his skin, and then digging nails into his back. He began grunting with each thrust, and with a series of much deeper, harder thrusts, she screamed, her knees straightened and his ass went down and stopped. His buttock cheeks clenched as he pushed hard and deep, moving both their bodies headfirst a foot and out of my view.

"Are you in their, Dan?" A male voice from the other side of the tent.

"No, it's the fucking Smurfs," came Dan's reply. "Whaddyouwant?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just sounded like you were in pain. You need help?"

"Ha fucking ha. Piss off."

I rolled quietly away from the tent, and hid for a few minutes under the hedge that separated the campsite from the road. I was only partially shocked to find I was fully erect and poking out of my shorts. I knew I couldn't exactly go back to camp in this state, so I knelt down, removed myself and began rubbing.

There were whispers and rustling coming from Dan's tent. Silence for a few seconds and then the sound of the tent zipper. It took me a little longer before I was able to cum, but it felt empty and unrewarding.

A returned to the campsite, and was told Sally had gone back to our tent. She was curled up beside Libbie, so I slipped in beside them and fell asleep.

I woke up just before Sally, and told her I was going for a run. There was a wide stretch of beach about two miles away that I was going to make for, and then I'd be back to make breakfast.

I love running in the morning. It's a great way to clear your head, and physically set yourself up for the day. I'd planned to run along the wide stretch of beach for a couple of miles, before turning round and coming back. But I hadn't reckoned on the tide being in, and the whole beach was underwater. So instead I jogged up and along a lane that looped up and away from the sea and back to the campsite.

Passing the shower block on the side of the campsite furthest from ours, I decided to try it out, to see if it was as good as the facilities at our end of the campsite. The block was in use, and warm steam filled the building. I had to wait a few minutes for one of the six cubicles became free. I had the cubicle second from the end.

As I stripped off, there was a huge thud from the wood and plastic partition wall between mine and the end cubicle. Above the noise of running water from all the cubicles, I heard the groan of a woman. Then a slurping sound, followed by a woman's groan and then a little shriek.

I dropped to my knees and peered under the narrow gap between the concrete floor and the bottom of the partition. Through the steam I could see a woman's foot and ankle. She appeared to be facing away from me and leaning back on to the partition. A man was on his knees in front of her. I couldn't see the woman's other foot, so I could only guess it was over his shoulder.

The partition wall thudded again, and she let out a long steady moan.

"Ohhhhhhhhh...Dan..." I could only just hear her over the noise of the showers.

Leaning my back up against the partition, I soaped myself down and took hold of my shaft, bringing it to full hardness. The heat of the water made the soap froth, and friction soon disappeared. There were more moans, slurping and thuds on the partition.

Then for a few seconds everything appeared to stop.

"Oh, God, Dan...don't stop now. I'm nearly there. What...what are you doing?" There was another thud on the partition wall. "Oh, God,, Dan...not there," she whispered."Please no...not in there..."

Dropping to my knees to peer under the gap, I could just see the woman's knees. She was facing toward me, presumably with her head and hands pressed up against the partition. Behind her, Dan was knelt, his hands on her hips. She was struggling against him. He reached round her waist and pulled her back on to him.

"Aaaasrghhhh..." She screamed.

"Shut the fuck up, Cunnylips," he hissed. "You're my bitch. You'll take it in any hole I want."

It was brutal and animalistic, whatever it was he did to her. It sounded like she was desparately trying to stay quiet, but was failing miserably.

"Eeee...eeeee...eeeee...eeee..." She cried, in unison of a hard thud from the partition. And then, " can't...aaaarrrrgggghhhhh..."

Dan uttered a long, low, gutteral groan. " you've had my seed in every hole."

The woman collapsed to the floor, sobbing. I dropped to my knees, my stiff cock in my hands, pumping furiously.

The water from the shower in Dan's cubicle stopped. "Clean yourself up," he said. I heard him putting on his clothes. I needed to cum. I grabbed some soap and smoothed it over my cock. The woman whimpered. "You're not wearing those anymore. Not on this holiday, Cunnylips. Your pussy needs to be easily accessible. At all times. Come on."

I heard the cubicle door open, and saw their feet walking past my cubicle on their way out of the shower block. I wanted to throw the door open, to see who she was, and who had just been assraped by Dan. But my cock was still hard, and I was still in need of cumming. I closed my eyes and focused on the panic striken noises, yelping, and pleading of desperation made by the woman. My cock exploded, spitting out its contents into the drain of the shower.

For the rest of that week, I kept hearing snippets and stories about Cunnylips. Dan had kept her identity a close secret, but during a drunken moment he had let it slip to Ricky, that she was to be the star turn at a Stag party. Apparently he had convinced her to be the waitress at the party, which was to be held in an old barn somewhere at the other side of town. The party was going to be a big deal for the young Stag and about a dozen of his friends. They had chipped in to hire a prostitute, when Dan said they could all borrow Cunnylips. The young lads had been quite pleased, and Dan had pocketed the £200 that the lads had raised.

Friday night came, our last nite on the campsite. I was busy packing up the girls stuff, and dismantling all the kitchen equipment. I figured that if I could load most of our gear into the car that evening, then there wouldn't be such a huge rush in the morning.

I suddenly realised that Sally still hadn't returned from the beech. I was immediately pissed off that she hadn't been there to help pack everything up. And then doubly pissed off when I saw that the kids had removed all their belongings from the bags I'd carefully packed, and strewn them about the place, looking for something to wear on the last night.

Angrily, I called Sally's mobile, and left a message to indicate how pissed off I was at her. By now it was eight o'clock, and I was busily trying to get youngest ready for bed, whilst explaining to the twins that they could stay up for another hour, but no, there wasn't a last-night party, it was just a bit of a get together, and no they could't get all their clothes out of the bag again.

By ten o'clock, I'd finished packing, read Libbie a story and got her to sleep, and retrieved the twins who had been busy investigating everybody else's tent. "Bed. Now!" I wasn't taking any prisoners.

At eleven, I sufficiently pissed off to call Sally again. I left another message, followed by a one-line, rather blunt text:

- WTF are you?

A reply came back a minute later.

-Out lol

-out? Where? What bout your children?

-Party. I told you

I was about to send another text, but I get so pissed off with all the texting shit sometimes, so I just called her.

It went to answerphone, again. So I hung up. Then I dialled again.

"Hi, hunny," she sounded drunk.

"Where the hell are you, Sally? I need help packing up you know."

"I told you. I'm helping at a party."

"No you didn't. What party? Get yourself back here right now."

"Oh for fucks sake, Harry. Chill out will you. I'm sure I told you. Dan's asked me to help out at his friend's stag party. They need someone to serve the drinks."

I had to check the ground to see how much blood had just run from me. My pulse shot out my head, and the campsite started to revolve. "What?"

"Just for a few hours. I'm sure I told you yesterday. Didn't I?"

"No. Where are you now?"

"Just in the taxi. I don't think I'll be too late."

"Taxi? Who with?"

"Just with Dan. So don't worry. I'll be quite safe. He told me I'm the star turn," she giggled.

Suddenly I saw what had been staring me in the face for the past few weeks. Dan's sob story of heartbrake and sadness, had engineered his pleasure in the downstairs toilet at the party, and Sally's face of pleasure on the back seat of the minibus on the way home. He had fashioned his way into our holiday, had his way in the nightclub, seduced Sally in his tent, and raped her in the shower. And God knows what else and when else.

And what now?

"Sally, you need to come back now."


"You don't understand. I know what's been happening. What he's doing. And you need to come back now?"

"I will. I told you I don't think I'll be too late."

"Sally, listen. You don't know what Dan's going to do to you. He's been tricking you. Can't you see?"

"What? I can't hear you." There was laughter in the background. "I've got to go."

"Sally! Listen. Tell the taxi driver to turn round. Tell him to bring you straight back to the campsite. Sally! Sally?"

The line had gone dead.

I called back, but it went to her answerphone. I hung up, looking around me. I checked my car keys in my pocket. But where was I going? Where was the party? And who would look after the kids?

I stumbled around the campsite, re-dialling Sally's number. It never occurred to me to send a text to her, to tell her that I knew what was happening.

Eventually I stumbled in to Ricky and Paula. They asked me what was the matter. So I told them. Paula gasped and clamped both hands to her mouth. Ricky just shook his head, looking at the ground and turning away. A few of the others joined us, noticing that something was wrong. Gradually the story spilled out, as the true identity of Cunnylips revealed itself.

At first, nobody would believe it. They all though Dan was a nice, regular guy, who'd just fallen on hard times and needed a break. With mums putting their arms around me in comfort, the stories started to come out. It seemed that, individually, Dan had provided some sort of hard-luck story to everyone. But when the pieces started to be put together as they were now, many of the mums commented that he had made advances, or flirted, or dropped hints of a sexual nature to them in the past. More stories of his conquests came out, and we were presented with a picture of a deviant sexual predator.

Of course, none of this was any consolation to me. My wife had been multipully unfaithful, God knows how many times. She had allowed herself to be seduced, and had enjoyed the end fruits of her seduction, to the point where her seducer could legitimately claim consensual relations had taken place.

Needless to say I didn't sleep that night. Whilst Paula looked after my kids, I drove around the town and surrounding countryside, looking for a barn or any signs of a stag party. But I found nothing, and by 4.00am it was getting light and I arrived back at the campsite.

Returning to the tent I found Sally asleep beside Libbie. I carried the sleeping Libbie into Dee's compartment, and left her there, with the intentions of having a very serious few words with my wife. But of course Sally was completely comatosed, and I could get only a small grunt from her.

She was dressed as a Cowgirl; but of course, she had been to a barn. I say dressed, but the costume she wore covered very little, being composed of a tiny brown leather miniskirt, and matching crop top. Cheap brown leather thigh high boots and a 10 gallon hat completed the look. She wore no bra, and no panties. I had to look between her legs, but wished I hadn't. Her usually beautiful pussy was red, swollen, and was leaking fluids of all colours and consistencies.

Suddenly, I was filled with rage. A kind of murderous rage I'd never felt before. I burst out of the tent, storming over to Dan's, and ripped open his door. He too was comatosed, with drool and vomit clinging to the side of his face. I called his name a few times, and kicked him with reasonable force in his chest and gut. When it was obvious that he wasn't moving, I started searching his tent. I'd no idea for what, but when I stumbled across the Camcorder, I knew I had to play it back.

The tape had been made at the Stag party, in a barn somewhere. There were about twenty guys, all pissed, and drinking beer from cardboard crates. There was no bar, or fridge, or glasses, and no need for anyone to serve anything to anyone.

Sally appeared in her Cowgirl outfit. "I can't believe I let you talk me in to wearing this," she said to the camera.

"You look fit as fuck," came Dan's voice. "Doesn't she, guys?"

Hoots and yells of agreement came from all the men there, before Sally was led away by two of the men into the middle of the barn where music was playing. They began to dance, one in front of Sally and one behind. The rest of the men gathered round drinking beer.

I pressed fast forward. The next scene made me nearly drop the camera. Sally was on her back on the ground with her tiny skirt around her hips. A man was kneeling between her legs, holding her hips and fucking her furiously. Sally had her hands on his shoulders, as if trying to push him away.

The camera moved in closer, and Sally looked toward it. "Dan!" She exclaimed. "Dan! Ohhhhh..." The man had obviously hit a tender spot inside her. With several deeper thrusts, the man let out a huge groan. His cheeks tensed, and then released, before he rolled off her.

Sally's knees were drawn up, exposing her pussy, which oozed cum. Suddenly, another man was between her legs. He had already removed his trousers, and was massaging a huge erection. Without any warning he plunged straight in to my wife, and began fucking her just as fast as the previous man.

"Ohhhhh!" she cried again. "Dan! Dan, what's happening?"

The camera moved in closer to the man's face, which was just a couple of inches above Sally's.

"She a great fuck or what, eh Pauly?" came Dan's voice.

"Yehhssss," utterd Pauly, as he continued ploughing into my wife. He stared down to Sally's breasts, and pulled down her tiny leather top. Taking one breast in his mouth he began to tease her nipple.

"Dan?" Cried Sally. "Dan? Ohhhh...please...Dan!" Her eyes closed slightly and she bit her bottom lip.

They took turns with her. I lost count eventually, skipping forward on the video. Near the end she was screaming loudly at something off camera. Two of the men were holding her down, and the camera panned round to show Dan holding a cricket stump. As the men held her with her legs open, he inserted the cricket stump into her slime covered pussy. She cried out a few times, thrusting her hips into the air.

"Hold her!" came Dan's voice, and the cricket stump went in further.
There were only a few more minutes of this before the tape ended. A ninety minute tape.

I sat on the floor of Dan's tend, stunned. It was about six o'clock, and in a couple of hours the campsite would be waking.

I stared at him, laying on his front, unconscious.

And then, I developed a plan.

I went out to my car. The sun was up, but the campers were still slumbering. In the boot I removed the two rolls of Duct Tape, before taking the cricket stump I had seen discarded on the grass just outside Dan's tent. I returned to the tent and began removing Dan's clothes.

It was then I spotted his mobile phone. I picked it up, but it was locked. It had one of those fingerprint identity systems, so I grabbed his hand, and after a few seconds, I had unlocked his phone.

There were dozens of pictures of Sally, many of them taken in his tent, with her sucking his cock, or riding on top, and being taken from behind. I saw texts from him to her, and her to him. Many times he thanked her for being so understanding, and for being such a good friend when he was so in need. The only other woman who had ever been so good to him was his mother. He mentioned his mother several times in his rambling texts to her. She replied saying that of course he was a lovely man, that it was such a shame he'd had so much bad luck, and that she felt so sorry for him. And of course she would agree to meet up with him.

There were scores of texts and e-mails between them, all starting on the night of that party, including one the next day from him:

-Thanks for what u did 2 me in the toilet hun. Hope you had a good time on the back seat?

It had been his idea to move in to our house, but he had put it so subtly that it sounded like Sally had come up with the idea in the first place. He had even told her that he could look after the girls for us. And it was clearly him who had put the idea in her brain that he should come on holiday to recuperate.

As I read, I became more incensed. There were messages to other women too. E-mails, mails, texts, instant messages, Wotsaps, every conceivable form of social media had been used to communicate with other wives and girlfriends.

I picked up the Duct Tape and cricket stump. The next ten minutes of his life were probably the most uncomfortable.

I zipped up his tent as I left.


I watched him enter the fast food restaurant, just after it opened. He was first in there, just as always. So predictable. He ordered the same bacon roll and the same tea with two sugars and sat in the same table, away from the counter and away from the door. That the table was secluded from the rest of the café by a screen, was just perfect.

He rose to leave, the moment he saw me. But I just placed his Camcorder on the table, staring him down.

"What do you want?" He was hyperventilating.

"A chat," I said. "Sit down, Dan."

Obediently he sat, eyeing the Camcorder. "So it was you?" I said nothing. "You bastard. Do you know what permanent damage that's caused to me? My doctor says..."

"Do you think I give a fuck?"

He stood up, and grabbed the Camera. "I'm going to the Police. What you did was assault."

I shook my head. "I don't think so." I reached in to my jacket pocket, and pulled out his mobile phone. I placed it on the table.

He fell rather than sat back in his seat. "What do you want?"

"I want you to leave town."

He laughed. "Fuck you. What do you think this is? High fucking noon?"

I leaned forward, staring him in his eyes. "I've seen the contents of your phone, as well as the tape." I tapped the Camcorder.

He switched it on, but the screen was blank. He stared at me. "What have you done to it."

"Wiped it, of course. You don't think I'd let you keep that, do you?"

"She loved it!" he sneered at me. "She came begging to me for it. She said you weren't man enough for her. You didn't satisfy her. But I..."

"Shut it, you prick. You're in deep shit."

"Am I? Am I really?" he sneered. "I don't give a fuck."

"No. You don't, do you. You really don't care whose lives you ruin. You don't consider the families you could pull apart."

He looked over his shoulder, eyeing the door. "I'm out of here."

"No, you're not. Not before you agree to leave town."

"Why the hell should I do that?"

"Because of the texts and the e-mails on your phone."

He grabbed the phone from the table, and flicked through his messages, and texts. "The photos? And videos? What have you done?"

"I've deleted them from your phone, of course." He sighed, relieved. "It's a bloody good job that the Chief Exec of that company you're working for, hasn't seen the e-mails between you and his wife." He looked pale. "Or the video of her tied to a hotel bed with something sticking out of her private parts. Did she agree to let you do that?"

"Fuck you!" He checked his phone again.

"Of course, I've made backups of everything on your phone. Everything. Including your contacts list. All those wives and girlfriends, and their husbands and boyfriends. All their home and work e-mails, mobile numbers. Plus all the dirty pictures and videos. And the ninety minutes of you gangraping my wife."

"She agreed to that. She wanted to come. And what are you going to do anyway? You and your whore wife will be a laughing stock if anyone sees any of that!" He sat back in his seat, folding his arms. "No, mate. You're fucked."

"The thing is, Dan, what Sally and I have, is called a loving relationship. You see, unlike the sordid little affairs you have, Sally and I have been together a long time. We know and we trust each other. Of course, what she's done has shaken me to the core. It's ripped us apart, made us question our whole lives. But we're turning a corner. That's what the marriage guidance people are telling us. And our friends. You see, they all know. They knew from the night you took her to the barn. From that moment, we all realised what a complete shit you are."

He licked his lips, and glanced at door. "Fuck you, Harry."

"So. I'm giving you one week. And then, as you say, you're out of here."

"Fuck off!"

"You're going to work now, as usual. But not as usual, you will hand in your resignation. You will copy me in to your resignation. Give personal reasons, whatever. You won't be able to work your notice, you'll have to go off sick. And then, once you've packed all your stuff, you will fuck off out of town, and out of the county. And you will never, ever come back.

You see, I have a huge online Cloud account set up. In that account is a repository of all your nasty videos, pictures, messages and e-mails. I have a link to that account, which is pasted into an e-mail. That e-mail is set to go out to every contact in your phone. There are quite a lot of contacts. Over five hundred, did you know? Business partners, customers, as well as friends. Can you imagine how they will perceive you, when they see that little lot?"

"Fuck you." It was a weak reply. His mouth was as dry as a bone, his face pale, and his hands trembling as he clutched his phone.

"And of course, number one in your contact list, is your mother."

His lips tried to form a word, but all that cam out was, "Ffff..."

"What would she think of her precious little boy? What would she make of his adultery, his lies, his tricks and deceit? Would it sadden her to know that her son targets married women? Would she cry for hours and days at a time? What would she say to you, Dan? Would she even speak to you?"

I let this sink in for a minute.

"One week. That's all. I give you one week. If you're not gone, then I click send. If you come back, then five hundred people find out the real you." I stood up and made to leave. I had a family to put back together.

"Oh, and one more thing," I said, reaching in to the bag I had over my shoulder. "If you ever contact my wife again, this will go in all the way."

I placed the cricket stump on the table and walked out the restaurant.

mystery   girl  

Feb 5, 2018 in anal