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In part seven, we heard about how the lack of clothing, Marcia’s panties, promoted and encouraged her sexual behaviour. Here, we take that further and see how it has affected her and the men around her.

Chapter 1

Marcia’s penchant for going without knickers started the third or fourth time she and Kevin fucked. That was nearly ten years ago, she was thinking at his daughter Sammi’s recent twenty-first birthday party. There, somewhat to their disappointments, they couldn’t get together. Instead, she had fucked Gareth, a city trader, who she had been having sex with for broadly the same time. Kevin was now fifty- three, Marcia forty-three and Gareth thirty- two. Marcia enjoyed fucking both the older and younger man and was particularly intrigued by the fact that Gareth was Kevin’s son by his first wife.

Kevin is married to Amanda, one of Marcia’s best friends. Gareth is one of those phenomenally successful city traders, unfathomably earning several hundred thousand pounds a year. He has no discernable skill, little knowledge and didn’t’ do well enough at school to get a place at uni. Odd world he and people who knew him often thought.

Marcia is the daughter of near aristocracy, which she terms ‘fucking old landed gentry.’ Old, boring and stuffy her family may be, but they were also stinking rich and that she liked. She was married to the gorgeous Stephen Masters, one of the most eminent consultant psychologists in Europe. His consultancy work, book writing and lecturing activities added another couple of million a year to the two or three she got in dividends from the family companies and from her investments.

Stephen is in his early fifties and has longish, blonde hair, turning grey. He’s tall, slim and fit is excellent in bed and apart from with hookers and escort girls, who don’t count, he has always been faithful to Marcia. That cannot be said for Marcia. She has been unfaithful since they met, but then Marcia’s ideas of faithfulness, differ to most ‘normal’ and for normal read poor, people. She considers herself to be emotionally, but not physically faithful. In the rarefied atmosphere and thinking of the mega rich, that is all that matters, loosely interpreted it means ‘I’m rich so I can do what I fucking well like and if you don’t like it, up your’s;’ nice people generally, the stinking rich.

Chapter 2.

“You know I have wanted to fuck you since the moment we met,” Kevin said at his and Amanda’s housewarming party.

Marcia smiled. “Yes of course, I have,” she replied walking down the path towards the pool, feeling his arm go round her waist and his hand rest on her bum.

They stopped and kissed.

They were far enough away from the house for it to be difficult if not impossible for anyone to see them. Not so far, though, that they couldn’t hear the music, the buzz of conversation and the occasional laughter or raised voice.

He cupped one of her small, almost non-existent breasts, which surprisingly really aroused him.

The surprise, on the face of it, coming from the fact that his wife, one of Marcia’s best friends, had big tits. Now that is, but not when Kevin first seduced her when she was just twenty working in an ad agency, which represented his company. Amanda had broken the cardinal ad industry rule, ‘never fuck the client’ or, more to the point with young, female copywriters, ‘never let the client fuck you.’ She not only let the client fuck her, and over a desk in the agency after a late meeting, but she also married him.

After Sammi was born, her neat little b cup boobies and thirty five inch hips both swelled and for the past few years she had sported a pair of devastating d cups and an ample thirty seven inches of hips and arse.

Kevin found that all a bit distasteful. He had never been faithful to Amanda, but as her ‘tits and ass’ grew he, almost in perfect correlation to her expansion, had a succession of affairs, long, short, mid-term and one nighters. His ‘floosies,’ as Amanda called them when she occasionally found out or had suspicions, had two main things in common, apart from easily openable legs and knickers that were surprisingly easy to get into: they were all young, under twenty five, and had stick insect-like figures with ‘pimples for tits.’

They strolled round the corner of the pool changing room, out of sight of the party. He pushed her back against the wall and they kissed longer and deeper.

“Fuck I haven’t got the key,” he said patting his pockets.

“What’s wrong with alfresco?” She asked grabbing his erection through his thin linen trousers.

“Not a thing, you horny bitch,” he replied, shoving his tongue deep into her mouth.

He pulled one of the straps of the ankle-length dress down her arm and pushed and stroked, squeezed and pinched her tits, before leaning forward and sucking the long, dark nipples into his mouth. She undid his shirt then his zip. She bit his nipple, quite hard.

“Hey steady, that hurt.” Marcia laughed.

“Just be careful I don’t leave scratch Çankaya Escort marks right down your back, you bastard, cheating on my best friend.”

They both laughed.

He pulled her long skirt up; she wasn’t wearing tights, just panties. He slid his hand between her thighs and lifted his thumb so that it pressed right into the gusset of the panties covering her pussy lips.

“Mmmm,” she murmured. Kevin wasn’t sure whether that was due to what he was doing or, because she had taken hold of his bare, hard cock. Maybe a bit of both he thought.

He pressed his erection against her and wiggled his hand into the elastic of the waistband of her panties. He started to pull them down. As her pubes and pussy were exposed to the air, Marcia felt an even more urgent surge of arousal than what she was getting from holding his throbbing cock. She grabbed his hand when her knickers were half-way down her thighs.

“That’s far enough,” she said sharply, used to always being in control in her relationships.

“What don’t like the open air?” He replied pushing her knickers down past her knees.

“Just shut up and fuck me smartarse,” Marcia said helping Kevin push his trousers and pants down a little.

Kevin smiled, but did nothing further other than push his finger right against her clit, then ease two up inside her.

“Nice?” He asked hearing her grunt and feeling her body jerk.

“Yes,” she grunted, grabbing his cock again.

She guided it towards her eager pussy. They kissed as it brushed against her lips and then she grunted and he groaned as he thrust his hips forward surging his cock deep inside her. Marcia lifted one leg up and wrapped the calf and ankle round the back of Kevin’s legs. They were now kissing furiously as their arousal and passion grew. He was pounding into her, she was squirming herself back against him. His hands were all over her breasts, the top of her dress now being completely open: her’s were running up and down his back, slightly scratching it, worrying Kevin that she might carry out her earlier threat.

“Oh fuck yes,” she grunted. “Harder, fuck me harder,” she moaned grabbing his arse and digging her fingernails into the pliant flesh.

“You horny cow,” he replied, surging himself as far into her as he could go and then holding himself rigid in there as she writhed against his hardness, in effect fucking herself.

“I’m near,” he grunted.

“Good,” she responded.



Several more deep, slow thrusts from him, a few more writhing, squirming movements from Marcia, and they were both cumming. Each holding onto the cheeks of the other’s bum and squeezing those delicious mounds they relished in their mutual climax.

“Phew,” Marcia muttered falling against Kevin.

“Nice?” He asked.

“Mmm, bloody lovely.”

“Come on we had better get back.”

“Oh fuck look at my panties?” Marcia said. They both looked down and saw that they had slipped off from her foot and she or he had trod on them, they were covered in dirt.

“Easy,” Kevin said, picking them up and shoving them in his pocket.

Chapter 3

They had sex again a couple of weeks later. This time it was at Stephen and Marcia’s house in Hampstead.

They got to know each other better, both socially and sexually. Kevin knew they were well off, but hadn’t appreciated quite the level of Marcia’s family wealth, which she explained in a matter-of-fact manner, not sounding at all boastful. From the house warming party, he knew that sexually she was a goer and up for some of the more outrageous aspects of sex, including being fucked up against a wall just outside a party at which she was guest and he the host. The warm afternoon in Hampstead confirmed that and they had four hours of uninhibited sex that promised well for the future.

The two couples had met at a dinner party given by, Jonas Bright a supplier to Kevin’s business. It was quite a grand affair with ten or so couples at his huge apartment overlooking Regents Park. They had hit it off well and discovered that they were going to be in Hong Kong at the same time a few weeks later. They had met up for dinner a couple of times out there and had then seen each other again in Jonas’ box at Royal Ascot. Things just progressed from there and a year later, when Kevin and Amanda moved to large house in Essex, just outside London to the east, they had naturally been invited and, almost as naturally, Kevin and Marcia had fucked.

Stephen was suspicious of Marcia and Kevin, but then, quite rightly he was suspicious of her with most men. He knew she played around, but had no idea of the scope, variety and nature of her ‘infidelities.’ He put up with it firstly, because as a psychologist he studied and understood human behaviours. ‘That’s just how she is,’ he rationalised and secondly he loved her. Simple, straightforward and unarguable reasons.

Marcia was naked. She was laying on a huge bed in a Mayfair hotel, on Keçiören Escort her front, her slender, shapely legs wide open. Her, long, straightened brown hair with highlights was tumbling over her bare back onto the bed. Kevin had just made her cum by lying between her legs and sucking, licking and kissing her arse.

At their session in her house in Hampstead, Kevin had discovered that she was very sensitive there and that she liked anal foreplay; he hadn’t yet, but fully intended to soon, found out, though, whether she liked being fucked up her arse. Along with most parts of a woman’s body, he was an arse man. He adores plating womens’ bums and having them do the same, and more if they would, to his.

Marcia knew that it wouldn’t be long, maybe even today, before Kevin would want to have her arse. She didn’t mind that, although always felt it wasn’t all that it was often cracked up to be, for the woman that is. The incongruity of anal sex was that she found the foreplay hugely sensual and massively arousing. She loved being made to cum through the use of fingers, tongues and lips on her bum hole, just as Kevin was doing now.

“You really are a dirty bitch, aren’t you?” He grunted between pushing the tip of his tongue right against that delightfully puckered entrance and sucking at Marcia’s arse.

“You’re the one with their mouth up an arse, so what’s that make you?” She replied.

He gave her a thwack on her arse, storing the fact that her response sounded like a purr of pleasure.

He renewed his efforts, sucking and licking and combining the use of his fingers with that of his mouth.

Marcia was writhing with pleasure. She slid a hand down her body and found her clit. ‘What could be better’ she thought to herself, a tongue on your arse and a finger up it, as you play with your own clit?’ Not much, she concluded, because she was starting to cum.

She didn’t often allow a man, particularly a relatively new one in her life, such control. Normally, she ran the show, but with Kevin she was realising she had met her sexual equal. ‘Well for a man that is,’ she smiled to herself as those wonderful feelings roared through her body. Even as her body shuddered and she writhed and made deep, animal sounding from her throat, he kept fucking her arse with his finger and licking and sucking everywhere down there.

She finished, well the noisy bit, that is, the tingling and little tremors kept on for some time. Half of her wished that he would hold her, cuddle her and whisper tender messages in her ear. But she knew he wouldn’t for that was not what their affair was all about.

She lay still for a while, regaining her composure. She felt him moving around on the bed. He took both of her wrists in his hands and pulled them, gently above her head. Then, she felt something being wrapped round them. It didn’t register at first what he was doing, but then suddenly, as she felt whatever it was that was wrapped round her wrists being pulled tight, she caught on. ‘He’s tying me up the bastard,’ she realised, opening her eyes and trying to turn onto her back. She couldn’t as he stopped with his hands.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Marcia asking answering the question herself really as she watched her wrists being tied to the headboard.

“Simple Marcia, tying you up.”

“Why, I don’t like that.”

“You will,” he replied.

It didn’t feel as if her wrists had been tied too tightly and she struggled looking at where they were tied to the bed. ‘The bastard has only used my fucking knickers to tie me up,’ she recognised, pulling and twisting her body and wrists.

“You bastard,” she growled, feeling annoyed at the smug look on his face.

“Now, now,” Kevin replied enjoying and starting to get aroused at seeing her slim body writhing and squirming on the bed. “Oh fuck,” he said seeing one of her hands come free. He grabbed it and tried tying her panties around it again, but couldn’t manage it.

“See you cocky sod, you can’t do what I don’t want you to do,” Marcia said harshly as she struggled with him over her panties. “Now look what you have done, you fucking lunatic,” she said after she had removed them from her wrists and the headboard of the bed. She held the pale blue, lacy panties up for him to see. They were not a thong as she usually wore, but had a full bottom and a small front cut acutely up from the gusset. They were made from silk and lace and had tiny strips joining the front and back. One of those and the gusset had been torn making them completely unwearable.

“They’re fucking AP as well, sixty bloody quid a pair,” she ranted.

“Well you’ll just have to go commando won’t you, you’re probably used to it.”

Sitting on the Northern Line of the tube Marcia felt odd. Although it was quite chilly, she wasn’t wearing tights for she still had a good tan on her shapely legs from the two weeks she had recently spent in Antigua.

She was wearing leather, Etimesgut Escort mini skirt, which were highly fashionable at the time. With her legs crossed the skirt obviously rode up her legs, almost to her crotch. Normally that and the stares from the male travellers would not have bothered her at all. Today, though, both did bother her. Well more than bother for she felt a strange sort of arousal. ‘If only they knew I wasn’t wearing panties,’ she smiled to herself, recrossing her legs, but making sure not to do a complete Sharon Stone!

Marcia felt a tingle throughout her body all the way home. As she walked up the escalator at Hampstead station, she imagined that people behind her would be able to look up her skirt and see that she was naked under it. Of course they didn’t and couldn’t do that. Just as no one on the train who stared at her legs or walked behind her would know of her clothing omission.

That was not the point, though, well not in her mind. The point was how not wearing knickers made her feel. And not to put too fine a point on that, it made her feel fucking horny.

Chapter 3.

“It’s every young bloke’s wet dream material’ isn’t it?” Gareth was telling his mates the Sunday after Amanda and Kevin’s housewarming party. “She’s got no tits to speak of, but what an arse?” He went on. “At the ball, I had my arms round her during this smoochy number and she was pressed bloody tightly against me. You can guess what happened?”

The three other traders he was talking to in the flat he shared with one of them made the inevitable raucous remarks. They had all been on the Stolli and each of them had had several lines, so they were relaxed, uninhibited and very open with each other.

Gareth was in his early twenties and was beginning to make it as trader in the city. Especially with the coke, nothing seemed to be impossible,

“Yes, right I got a hard on. I felt embarrassed.”

“Yeah like fuck you did, I bet,” one of them remarked.

“What doubting he got hard on, or that he was embarrassed?” another one asked, laughing.

“I thought she would at least, move away a little.”

“So what did she do?”

“Her mouth was about level with my ear and I heard her go mmmmm, as she pressed herself harder against me.”

“You lucky fucker.”

“I was still a bit out of my stride for remember, she’s mid thirties, married and as rich as God. Very upscale and really out of my league, I thought.”

“Oh is this the humility side of Gal coming out? Out of his league, my arse.”

“I mumbled sorry and she whispered, don’t be. I said, stupidly you don’t mind? She didn’t say anything, but looking me right in the eyes, she simply pressed her mound right against my cock.

“And then?”

“Well I’d got me confidence then ‘adn’t I? It was quite dark and we were in a bit of a corner so I let my hands run down her back. She was wearing a long, sheath dress, tight as a second skin. She looked fucking fabulous. I felt her arse. At first it didn’t register, but then suddenly I thought there was nothing under the dress. When it registered that she was probably stark bollock naked under it, my hard on nearly hit her chin.”

“So what did you do?”

“I said, “seems as though you forgot something Marcia” as I ran my hand from her shoulders, all the way down her spine to the little wiggly bit at the end.”

“What makes you think I forgot? She replied, so I said; left them off on purpose then, have you?”

“You cheeky bastard,” one of his mates remarked.

“That’s a coincidence,” Gareth said taking a swig of vodka with a touch of water.


“That’s exactly what Marcia said.”

Chapter 4

After that arousing trip home on the Northern Line after Kevin had ruined her panties, Marcia thought she would ditch him. ‘He’s fucking crazy’ she told herself as she was getting ready to play golf with Amanda and her next-door neighbour Toni at Marcia’s golf club in Highgate.

“Hi Marcia,” Amanda said down the phone. “I’m afraid Toni can’t make it, still want to play?”

Amanda had this innocence about her. She was still completely besotted with Kevin and had this tendency to use phrases with unintentional double meanings. Marcia smiled at that.

“Just the two of us, of course I do,” she replied.

Marcia had fucked the partners of several friends, so she didn’t feel embarrassed with, or sorry for, Amanda. To her, sex was pretty much a commodity and if Kevin wanted her and she wanted him, what was the harm? Amanda, of course, had no idea, that her ‘friend’ and her husband had shagged each other at the housewarming or that they had started an affair.

It was unseasonably warm for late October. Bright and sunny and in the low sixties, Marcia decided to wear a short, sleeveless golf shirt, which just tucked into her cropped trousers. Both were quite tight.

She had no idea what prompted her not to wear underwear, but when she saw the reflection of her bum in the mirror, she felt excited. The thin cotton material was drawn tightly and beautifully smoothly over the pert, symmetrical, taught cheeks of her bum. It fitted snugly round her rather prominent pubic mound and rubbed excitedly against her lips and the hood covering her clit. She put her finger right there. Bang, she felt an internal explosion of want. ‘Mmmmm,’ she thought ‘I can almost cum on demand.’

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