Class - Part One

1  

 

 

 

My wife touched her lips to mine and slipped her slender hand onto the back of my neck.

“This is the most romantic thing James,” she whispered, “You’ve excelled yourself. You excel yourself every time.”

I smiled and pretended to blush. “It’s a pleasure for someone as beautiful as you.” Theresa’s smile broadened and she hugged me even closer, pressing her cheek to mine.

I wished for a moment that she were a little more passionate but that thought disappeared very quickly. Theresa was everything I could have wished for in a wife: beautiful, elegant, and well spoken. She was highly educated and an excellent host. At the many business-related dinner parties I had to throw as part of my work, Theresa was witty and erudite, a sparkling hub to the proceedings.

She stepped away from me and we turned back to the little table with its perfect white tablecloth and picnic spread. We took up our champagne glasses and chinked them. “To us darling,” said Theresa, “and years more of this incredible romance.”

I winked at the caterers who stood back respectfully. I had called them that morning to set this up then drove Theresa up here as a mystery tour. Exactly as planned, the table, champagne and food had been provided as we drew up in my Mercedes into the cliff top car park.

“I’ve never known anyone like you,” said Theresa, “You’re wonderful.”

I shrugged. “It was nothing.”

She linked her slender arm through mine. “You’re perfect for me. Have you ever thought about that? We are perfect for one another.”

“In what way?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. Where she was beautiful and successful, I was handsome. And my vast wealth attested to my success like nothing else.  We came from very similar well-to-do backgrounds and from the time we met at Cambridge, our lives had blossomed into a pair of miracles.

“We’re just perfect,” she said, “That’s all.”

We even looked perfect – I knew that – me in my tuxedo, Theresa in a long elegant gown, her shoulders and pale arms bare, a silk wrap hanging from her elbows. We stood watching the sun setting as the colours turned from blue to orange to red and then to yellow. 

2

 

 

As it started to get dark we were sitting on the bonnet of the Mercedes, both of us feeling tipsy and full of excellent food. Theresa rested her head on my shoulder, our fingers interlinked behind our backs. The caterers had long since quietly removed their things and slipped away. It was just the two of us in romantic peace a quiet.

Then the sputter and growl of an engine broke the peace. Theresa and I broke off from our embrace and craned back to look. A small rusty van pulled into the car park, its suspension creaking as it went over the bumps. It lurched, wheezing, then span into place right next to my car. The engine barked one more time and then stopped. Then the door fell open and the racket of the dying engine was replaced by the racket of the people inside.

A cloud of smoke plumed out of each door to the noise of coarse laughter, a woman’s and a man’s. The woman’s laughter was high pitched and too loud. Hih hih hih hih hih! The man’s was a slanting uncouth ah ah ah ah ah!

I could feel Theresa tense next to me. In this whole empty huge car park, they chose to park here next to us. “I’ll ask them to move,” I said, starting to slide off the bonnet, but Theresa gripped my arm.

“No, don’t. They might get funny with you and be obtuse. It’s not worth it. We should just go.”

“No,” I whispered back, “I don’t see why they should drive us away. We were here first.”

The driver of the van climbed out on the side closest to us. He was bigger than me and it immediately made me reconsider my plan to demand they leave, even without Theresa’s admonitions. He was very chubby with a big round belly and a think roll of fat hanging round his chin. The top of his head was bald, his remaining hair dark and greasy. He had a thick moustache but his big double chin was stubbly as well. He was wearing a set of oily overalls, central button open across his huge belly, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal hairy chubby forearms, each sporting a tattoo. He slammed the van door, making the entire thing shudder then walked round to the front of it. “Cam on!” he shouted, “It’s getting’ dark!”

“Keep yer ‘air on Tony,” said the woman as she emerged from the other side, her voice nasal and whining. It made me want to close my ears. “I’ve gotta pull me knickers back on. I can’t just zip up like you can ya know.”

She strutted after him, coming fully into view, her hand pulling through her dress at the knickers beneath to get them back into position. She glanced at us shamelessly and tutted, grinning at Theresa. “Men, eh? They dunno what it’s like for us girlies, do they?”

Beside me, Theresa was speechless, her face vacant with shock.

The woman stumbled in her high heels as she made the transition from gravel to grass. There was about ten feet of rough ground at the foot of the car park followed by a wooden and wire fence and then the cliff. She was wearing a white sleeveless dress with the lowest U-cut in the front that I had ever seen and large red spots spread all over it. She was exceptionally full-figured, with large breasts and buttocks and a spare tire round her stomach. Her dress stopped half way down her thighs and her shapely but fleshy bare legs flashed beneath. Her hair was cut in a short bob, dangling hoop earrings clinking against the side of her slightly fleshy, tartily made-up face.

“Cam on Tina, ya tart,” said the man, “Anyone’d think you’d never ‘ad an orgasm before.”

She tottered up behind him where he stood looking out to see and boomed, “I ‘aven’t ‘ad one at fifty miles an hour before.” Then she looked back at us and laughed. Hih hih hih hih hih!

“Oh for God’s sake,” muttered Theresa under her breath, “That’s disgusting.”

The couple quietened down, whispering to one another.

Theresa and I tried to return to our romantic pose, looking out to sea, but the two classless louts remained in our field of vision, spoiling the mood. The man kept pawing his wife and she kept shrieking with laughter and pushing his hands away.

“They’re horrible,” said Theresa.

“I’m inclined to agree,” I replied, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the flashes of thigh the man kept revealing when he tried to grope under the woman’s dress. Her high heels made her calf muscles stand out in the most alluring way.

“We should move on,” said Theresa, sighing, “They’ve ruined the mood and it’s such a shame too. You made a lovely gesture.”

“Mmmm.” I half nodded, staring at the woman’s fleshy chest. She wasn’t wearing a bra and every time the man pushed up against her, her cleavage pressed together even more, accentuating it.

I’d love to shove my fat cock between those tits, I thought.

Then I frowned.

Wherever had that thought come from?

I had no idea.

I broke off my gaze at the vulgar couple, looking back at my wife. She looked irritable and… for a moment I thought… prudish. Her chest was a lot smaller than the woman’s and neither one of us was interested in practising lewd acts like that. I had no idea what had possessed me to think it.

Nevertheless, as we climbed off the car and I had a last look at the couple before I got in the driver’s seat, I had to carefully manoeuvre the erection through my pocket to make sure that Theresa didn’t see.

 

 

3

 

 

“Would you mind pulling in here for a minute,” asked Theresa, as we approached the slip road to a industrial shopping estate.

“Sure.” I dropped down a gear and signalled, cutting across the slow lane and sweeping into the car park.

“Just pull over near Discount Clothes.”

I frowned. “Discount Clothes?”

“Yes please.”

I did so, curious to see what Theresa had in mind. She normally hated those kind of shops, preferring only the most expensive end of the market to do her shopping. I’d have disapproved if I wasn’t exactly the same. With the amount of money I pulled in, finding things to spend it on was sometimes a challenge. It seemed a waste to have too much of it gathering  dust in the bank, so my wife and I had long ago decided to only ever purchase the best. That was why it was so odd to be pulling up here of all places.

“Do you want to wait in the car?” asked Theresa, “I won’t be long.”

“I suppose so. What are you planning to buy?”

“I’ll just be a minute,” she said and climbed out.

It was late dusk now. I watched Theresa make her way through the car park in the gloom, still wearing her evening gown. I had no idea what she had in mind. 

4

 

 

After twenty minutes I started to get very bored, realising I shouldn’t have believed for a minute that she was really going to be quick. I started tapping on the dashboard and sighing.

Time dripped past. The sky got darker. My mind started to wander.

I thought about the slutty woman up on the cliff top, about her fleshy chest and her bare arms. I imagined grabbing those arms and kissing her chest, pushing my face into the soft pillowy skin, smelling her gaudy cheap perfume all over me.

My hand crept down to my belt and unclasped the buckle. Then I slipped my hand inside my trousers and closed my eyes.

In my imagination I continued to kiss the woman’s breasts, moving up to her neck, her earring pressing against my nose. Her high pitched grating laughter. Hih hih hih hih hih!

Then the passenger door opened and I whipped my hand out of my trousers, startled and hot.

Theresa dumped two large bags into the footwell then climbed in, oblivious to what I’d been doing. “Sorry I took so long.” She reached to do up her seat belt. I used the distraction to pull my jersey down over my undone belt.

“What did you buy?” I tried to sound innocent though I felt guilty and caught out. It wasn’t like me to have fantasies like that and it certainly wasn’t like me to masturbate. I’d never had the need to and thought it was the refuge of lonely teenagers and dirty old men.

“Er, just some things,” she said, “Nothing special. A surprise.”

I was intrigued. One bag was from Discount Clothing. The other was from the shoe shop next door. Both looked full. “You have my undivided attention. When am I going to get a look?”

“When we get home,” said Theresa, uncharacteristically evasive.

I put the car in gear and turned the ignition, seriously curious. 

5

 

 

We parked in the underground garage and took the lift up to the top floor. I offered to carry the bags but Theresa refused my help. She seemed very quiet and I worried that she’d seen what I was doing through the car window before she got back. My wife and I had a very conventional love life and I knew that she shared my disapproval of kinks of any kind. She wasn’t the type to argue and shout at me but I didn’t want to be getting the cold shoulder for days.

Trying to warm her up, I said, “It was nice and romantic this evening, wasn’t it?”

“Until those people turned up,” she replied curtly, turning away.

I raised my eyebrows and shook my head. It looked like I had definitely done something to annoy her. I just hoped it wasn’t what I thought it was.

Once inside our huge apartment, Theresa walked through to the master bedroom. I sidled after her sheepishly, waiting for her to speak. She had always had a thing about not arguing in public, so now we were behind locked doors I was liable to finally hear what it was that had irked her.

She put the bags down on our huge four poster bed and stood over them, her back to me. I leaned against the door frame.

“Can I ask you something James?” said Theresa.

“Sure.”

“It’s something I have never asked you before,” she said, “I’m a bit nervous.”

My stomach tensed. Here it comes, I thought.

Theresa opened the first bag out onto the bed. Inside was a white dress covered in large red spots and what looked like a blue shirt wrapped in plastic. I stepped closer and saw that it was a set of overalls. Blue overalls.

Then she opened the second bag to reveal two shoe boxes. She tipped them out onto the bed. One was a pair of white high heels. The other was a pair of black work boots.

I couldn’t believe it.

“I was wondering if you might like to do a spot of dressing up,” she said.

I raised one eyebrow.

I didn’t know what to say. 

6

 

 

I was flabbergasted.

Theresa had never suggested doing anything like this. I’d felt ashamed of myself that I had found the trampy woman on the cliff top sexy. Now, it seemed that beside me, my wife had been every bit as turned on herself by the man. It made me feel put out that she would find that fat vulgar oaf sexy until I realised I was just as guilty of roving eyes in this particular instance.

“You want me to dress up like that man?” I said, “and you want to dress up and pretend to be that woman?”

Theresa blushed darkly. “Uh huh.”

I looked her up and down. She was a beautiful elegant antelope of a woman in her evening gown. With her soft cultured voice and quiet eyes she was about as far from being that bimbo in the car park as… as I was from being the man – but nonetheless, I was tempted. I didn’t know why.

“I guess… yes. We could,” I said.

Theresa beamed. “Shall we get undressed?” She didn’t wait for a response. She just started pulling at the zip down the centre of her back. “Give me a hand will you.” I did so.

By the time I’d climbed out of my tuxedo I was feeling very aroused. Over and over I kept thinking, this is so unlike us, but I couldn’t deny that it was great fun and really exciting. Theresa reached for the spotty dress and pulled it over her head. Her movements were rushed and careless, unlike her normal practised grace. Her hair came loose from its tight bun and fell around her shoulders. She was grinning from ear to ear. “Hurry up with yours,” she said.

I picked up the overalls and slipped my legs into them. It was momentarily difficult to get them round my shoulders. I wasn’t used to the movements. I don’t think I’d ever worn a set in my life. They were several sizes too big round the middle and hung loose but they instantly gave me a feeling that I had become that man on the cliff top: Tony. I imagined what it would be like to be fat and bald and to have a thick moustache and to talk so badly and as I did so my penis swelled.

Theresa had her dress on now. It was too big for her as well. It looked to be the same size as the woman from the car park. She slipped her feet into the high heels and I ran my eyes lustily from her ankles, up her smooth legs to her torso and chest and then to her face. I felt a shiver of disappointment when I got to her breasts and face that they weren’t those of the woman from the cliff top but I was getting carried away now anyway. I really wanted her. I wanted her right now.

“Put your boots on,” she said. I sat down on the edge of the bed, chomping at the bit and strapped them on as Theresa slinked over to the wardrobe. As she passed in front of the mirror set into the door I saw a double image of her beautiful body, then she leaned against the frame and looked at me, her eyes misted with lust. “Come here.” I got to my feet. “Come here and stick that cock of yours in me.”

I staggered across towards her, seeing my blurry reflection as I approached in my peripheral vision. I transformed it in my imagination into the image of Tony. Swelling fat belly, bald, pale forhead. Hairy arms and chest. Moustache.

I grabbed Theresa’s bare arms and pulled her roughly to my lips. She gasped, coming forward off-balance as I mauled her. “Come here you little slut,” I said, swinging her round and pushing her toward the bed.

Her eyes were lit up as I pushed her backwards at the foot of the bed so that her legs were down in front of me and only her torso was on the horizontal surface. She tried to get her hands free so that she could reach for my cock but I squeezed harder, pinning her arms to the side. Then I reached down myself and pulled it out.

Theresa wriggled, totally absorbed in the moment. I thrust my face down against her chest and buried my face in the flesh there, closing my eyes.

In my mind she was the slut from the cliff top with the huge tits. It was those huge tits that I was kissing. It was Tina. Not Theresa. Tina.

“Oh Tony,” she said, Oh I like that. Oh yes you fat bastard. Give me a love bite. Yeah!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing but it fired me up even more. I was insatiable. I shoved my hand up her dress and pulled her knickers out of the way and then shoved my cock inside her.

“Yes! Yes! Tony! Oh yes, you fat fucker! I like that. Yes!”

I saw myself doing it to her, pumping in and out as though I were him. I imagined my balding head and thick moustache. I imagined my belly bloated, hanging over her. And I imagined her slutty make-up and chubby body, her huge tits and soft thighs.

I wanted her. I wanted her so badly.

“You tart,” I gasped, “You fucking stupid whore.”

“Yes!” she screamed, “Oh yes Tony! Fuck me! That’s it! Fuck me!”

“You whore Tina!” I growled, my voice straining, becoming gravelly. “You fucking little whore!”

I couldn’t hold it anymore. I couldn’t hold it.

I knew I should slow down – make sure my wife got the pleasure she needed, but I didn’t give a shit about that. I just wanted to have her now and I didn’t care whether she liked it or not!

I pumped harder, pushing deeper and then I exploded inside her, letting out a roar of passion and at the same time Theresa gave out a nasal high pitched scream.

And then it was over. 

7

 

 

I rolled off Theresa and we both lay there panting, starting up at the ceiling.

“That was amazing,” said Theresa.

“I know,” I said, “I don’t know what came over us.”

We remained quiet for a long time. My sweat cooled and started to dry.

“What did come over us?” asked Theresa finally.

“I don’t know.”

“I’ve always hated people like those two we saw,” she said, “so uncouth and vulgar. But for some reason…” She paused for several moments. “For some reason I got turned on thinking about being that slutty woman and being with that man.”

“I felt the same way about the woman. It’s weird.”

“I’m sorry James,” said Theresa, her voice quivering.

“I feel just as guilty,” I said, “We both wanted it.” I was afraid to say what I wanted to say but did anyway. “And it was really good.”

Theresa looked at me with moist eyes. “I know,” she said, “It was wonderful.”

 

 

8

 

 

In the morning I woke up late, surprised to see I was still wearing the blue overalls. My head was itching. Scratching didn’t help to relieve it much. I sat on the edge of the bed feeling very tired and looked down at my stomach. It was bloated, pressing out against my overalls.

My head was so cloudy from sleep or I would have cried out. As it was I just stared uselessly. I had never had anything remotely resembling a beer belly. My stomach had always been very trim, but now it hung on my thighs like a ball!

I got up off the bed, stumbled over to the wardrobe mirror and gasped.

Literally overnight I must have put on two or three stone!

My stomach bulged, not just forwards but out to the sides as well. My arms were thicker, my legs stocky. My face was round, a loop of fat hanging from my chin! But that wasn’t all! Impossible as that change was, there was something even more disturbing now I could see myself. There was a week or two’s worth of stubble on my cheeks and double chin. That was startling enough since I had shaved only last evening. But I had a moustache! A thick moustache!

I ran my fingers across it, feeling its shaggy density. It was a real moustache, really attached to my face!

This was impossible! It was impossible!

My thoughts went instantly to the man from the cliff top the night before. The same fat body and face, the same stubble and moustache. But it was still my face beneath the fat and I wasn’t bald like he had been. I put my hand to my forehead then ran it up through my hair, gripping it to reassure myself and instantly wished I hadn’t. As I pulled my hand away from my head a little shower of hairs fell down in front of my eyes and as my hand came into view I saw that there was a clump of dark hair caught between the fingers.

I turned back to the bed and yelled “Theresa!” but that scared me even more because the voice that came out of me wasn’t my normal voice. It was deeper and had a wheeze to it that had never been there before. “Theresa, wake up!”

I ran over to the bed, my new bulky body turning my movement into an alarming shamble and grabbed at the covers, pulling them down.

Then I let out another gasp. Because I saw Theresa. And I saw what she looked like.