Although I had known Fred for a little more than two years, it was the first time I had heard his voice. A little deeper than I had expected but with that great British accent Americans love.
"So good to finally meet you and Cat in person, Ed. This is my wife Sue. Welcome home."
We had just endured a full day of travel, the last leg of which was a 7-hour, overnight flight from Washington/Dulles to Heathrow. Those words, spoken in the rush of the arrival hall refreshed us and were the perfect touch. We love to travel, have been to the UK a few times, but always spent our time shuffling between cities and B&Bs, seeing and doing as much as possible in the limited amount of time a full work schedule had allowed. We had made acquaintances along the way but no friends.
I extended my hand in greeting trying to respect the British reserve, but Sue ignored it and gave me the continental kiss on each cheek. I noticed that Fred did the same with Cat. Fred and I shook hands, and I made a lame comment about not having a kiss for me. My mouth sometimes gets me into trouble, and I say stupid things. There was an awkward laugh, followed by the customary comments about how tired we must be and inquiries into the quality of the flight and the food. "One good, one bad" was our response. Within a half hour we were settled into the back of their car and headed toward their home, about an hour to the west of London. While Fred was paying attention to the driving Cat and Sue traded comments and questions. It gave me time to reflect on how we had ended up here.
Fred and I met via comment communication on an adults-only web site. It was a benign site that was filled with pictures of the poster's girlfriends, wives, or themselves. While that suggests all participants were male, an overwhelming number were. It was rare to see a contribution under a female name and it is hard not to be skeptical. There were no boundaries, but it appeared none were needed, as users tended to police themselves. There was nudity but no overt sexual acts or postings of just body parts. Most had blurred faces to protect the not so innocent.
It seemed the convention was for each user to post an album of pictures of his wife/gf in various stages of undress. Cat(hy) is an extremely attractive, slim, mid 50-year-old woman, who is the love of my life. With three children out of the home it was time for us to live the retired life and explore the world. We love each other completely and would never, ever, consider any extramarital activities. We are incredibly happy with our lives and have no intention of doing anything that might jeopardize our situation.
It was early May. I remember the moment precisely as the spring flowers on the holly and honeysuckle in our part of Virginia gave off a tremendous fragrance and that aroma entered our bedroom. Lying in bed I summoned the courage to ask Cat the question that had been on my mind since visiting that site. Knowing how very modest she is, (growing up in an Irish/Catholic household where sex was a four-letter word how could she not be?) I asked how she would feel if we took some risqué pictures. I'm fairly good with a camera and of course given the digital world no film or development would be necessary. No messy trips to the drugstore to pick up the prints.
Instead of responding with a yes or no, she surprised me by asking: "What would you do with the pictures?" Did not see that one coming. I said that I would do exactly what she wanted me to do with them, including deleting them if she asked.
Then I said, "I wish you had asked me what I would want to do with them, instead."
She looked at me: "OK, what would you want to do with them?"
The moment of truth. I had gotten this far and was determined not to retreat. "Post them on the internet, and hope other husbands will see them, get excited by them, and perhaps write and tell me what they thought." It was out in the open now.
"All right, but under two conditions" she said. "You cannot show our faces, and I want us to remain anonymous. No meeting anyone you show them to."
Quickly agreeing, I posed us in the bedroom, before the blue drapes which covered the walkout to the pool. The pictures were cheesy, and I felt terribly awkward looking into the lens of the tripod mounted camera, my naked wife hugging my body, the self-timer clicking away.
And now, here we were, contradicting all agreements, taking risks, excited.
All because of a simple flirty chat that had started innocently enough. Fred and Cat were Facebook friends, a small denunciation of our vow of anonymity. He had posted a picture of a tunnel he often rode through on his bike rides through the glorious Cotswolds' countryside. It was obvious to any observer that it resembled a woman languorously lying with her legs wide open and he asked the easily defended question of whether or not that sort of imagery was used in American films. Cat rose to the bait and replied yes, trains roaring out with smoke spewing, as well as rockets blasting off. She had now upped the ante, challenging him to respond.
Over the next month the chats became increasingly sexual in nature, Cat and Fred almost challenging each other to be more brazen and more provocative. They had switched from Facebook to WhatsApp as it not only provided more security but allowed them to post pictures you would NOT see on Facebook. Fred had an arsenal of pictures of Sue (they were both nudists) and had collected pictures of us that he and I had traded over the years. Cat kept a couple of rules in place, no sexual acts and no pics of just body parts. She relaxed the previous ban on showing faces as Facebook participation had negated that. I made sure Fred had the now unblemished pictures of myself and Cat. Fred could use those to surprise her as he chatted with her.
Each time Cat finished a chat, she would come and sit by my side and ask me to read it back to her aloud. I was astounded but more pleased than I could relate. Each chat raised the stakes, until finally she shared the one I wrote about: "The Cat in the Chat." She had encouraged him to stroke his cock while looking at pictures of her, naked, legs spread, her beautiful pussy on wanton display. He had combined those pictures with one of him lying on his bed, his cock completely rigid, standing proud. It was so erotic and as I related in my previous post, Cat told me during our reading of their chat that she wanted to suck his cock.
We pulled into their driveway, the anticipation growing, and as tired as I was, watching Sue walk into their house, her hips swaying, my cock responded gratefully.
Cat noticed and smiled. Fred did not miss it either. Only Sue who was walking ahead of us was unaware.