Sex and the Stranger. Justine Elyot

      

      SEX AND THE STRANGER

       A Collection of Casual Fun

      A Mischief Collection of Erotica

      

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Picnic Itch Valerie Grey

       Moondance Rose de Fer

       The Only Man Worthy Aishling Morgan

       Something Between Them Ashley Hind

       Shelf Pleasure Justine Elyot

       Deep End Terri Pray

       Hot and Bothered Kat Black

       Supply and Demand Elizabeth Coldwell

       Here There Be Dragons Chrissie Bentley

       I Have You Charlotte Stein

       More from Mischief

       About Mischief

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

      Picnic Itch

      Valerie Grey

      I married my husband, Steven, ten years ago, when I was just nineteen. He developed bad drinking habits as he moved up the corporate food chain. It wasn’t going out with the boys twice a week that bothered me – it was when it became four times. I tried to get him to cut back, even going so far as to join a health club so we could work out together, but he gave up after a couple of weeks on the treadmill and consoled himself with as much booze as he could find.

      I’m no nympho who wants sex five or ten times a day but when it became only once a week with my husband Steve, then maybe once a month, I began to get restless. I started noticing other men and wondered what they would be like in bed. I still loved my husband and never acted on my impulses.

      I was tempted.

      And then there was my husband’s company picnic. It was an annual event that the employees’ families were invited to, which meant at least four hundred people would be attending, gobbling food and slurping beer and plastic cup cocktails. It was at a park that had a sizeable lake, leaving plenty of space for everyone to mingle without feeling fenced in.

      I was feeling particularly horny that day and dressed in a pair of shorts that were a size too small and a skimpy halter-top. Underneath I wore an even smaller bikini in the hopes that Steve might get turned on and I’d get a little action before the picnic.

      Steve didn’t even seem to notice as we hopped in the car and drove off.

      The day was sunny and a touch on the hot side and as soon as we arrived we started mingling with the others. Steve introduced me to a couple of guys I hadn’t met before. Oscar had recently been assigned to work under my husband, and Hank was the supervisor for most of the trainees. Both of them were about our age and in good shape. I hit it off with them instantly, and soon we were chatting away like old friends. I learned they were married, but their wives hadn’t come. Steve excused himself to go to the restroom, leaving me alone with the two guys.

      I’m a born flirt and, left to my own devices, I fell into my old pattern with these handsome men. They responded in kind and soon we were having a good time trading sexual innuendos.

      Steve returned and insisted on tracking down some of his closer friends. Reluctantly, I said farewell to the guys and followed my husband. The flirting had made me even hornier, so I asked Steve if we could go back to the car for a quickie. He laughed at the idea and told me to relax and enjoy the picnic.

      I tried; he failed.

      It didn’t take long to locate his friends and drinking buddies he hung out with after work. I had met them several times and found them obnoxious. I didn’t have much in common with their wives either. I was reduced to standing around and forced to make polite conversation while the guys laughed it up and slugged down beers like they were back in the college frat house.

      The president of the company gave his obligatory inspirational speech that lasted a long thirty minutes and told everyone to have fun. It didn’t take long for my husband and his buddies to entrench themselves near the open bar and see who could drink the most vodka tonics in the shortest amount of time. I couldn’t take any more of this and asked Steve if it would be all right if I walked around for a bit. He gave a short ‘sure’ with a dismissive shrug that made me want to scratch his flesh bloody, and returned to getting drunk and laughing too loudly with the boys.

      It didn’t take long for Oscar to notice I was alone. He could tell I wasn’t having a good time and asked me what was wrong. When I told him about my husband and how I felt I was being totally ignored, he sympathised and invited me to join a volleyball game that was about to start. That sounded like fun. I agreed and followed him to where they were setting up the net. Hank was there, as were three younger guys who were introduced as Ron, Todd, and Jack, all interns Hank was in charge of. The opposing team was a group of computer programmers.

      ‘So we stand a chance, especially with you on our side,’ Oscar said.

      I was the only woman there and I quickly found myself the focus of a healthy amount of attention. The interns treaded carefully and didn’t flirt as much. Jack was a bit raunchy. I guess they didn’t want to risk saying something wrong and angering the wife of a superior. Hank and Oscar more than made up for it by showering me with very flattering compliments.

      I hadn’t been treated this well in years.

      Our opponents arrived and the game began. I’m a very competitive woman and it wasn’t long before I worked up a sweat. With a touch of flourish, I shed my halter-top and showed off my skimpy bikini. That little move made me the centre of attention of all the guys. The interns became a lot more talkative, and Oscar and Hank were flirting constantly. It puffed up my ego to know I could still catch the eye of so many men.

      It was a hard-fought game. We emerged victorious and I loved winning.

      We were all a sweaty mess. Hank asked if I had worn the matching bottoms to the bikini and, when I said I had, he suggested we take a dip in the lake to cool ourselves off. I told him I had to let Steve know, but that I’d probably be around in a few minutes.

      I returned to my husband and it was obvious he was well on his way to getting smashed drunk and showed no signs of stopping. I told him how the game went, but all he did was grunt ‘That’s nice,’ and took another drink. When I told him I wanted to go swimming,