6 comments/ 73248 views/ 5 favorites Final Act of Revenge - Part II By: Coops812 Wife's Version of the Payback Note: This is Part II of a story I submitted earlier as Coops181 called "A Friend's Final Act of Revenge", I suggest you read the original story first for some continuity -- however untasteful it may be to some readers. * * * We had said nothing to one another for nearly two hours after leaving the motel. I had a horrible headache -- and I felt sore, quite sore. I kept sipping away at the litre bottle of soda water in an attempt to rehydrate myself as my mouth was parched -- and also to try and mask the bad taste. But it was not working too well, even after I'd brushed my teeth twice I could still detect the distinct taste pervading the mint-flavoured toothpaste every now and then. And my jaw ached more than a little too of course. I looked across at my husband, Garry. He looked as solemn as I'd ever seen him as he concentrated on the road ahead. I turned and looked back out at the passing countryside -- big paddocks with occasional red cattle scattered randomly near big old river-red gums -- and not too much else -- to me, all quite boring really. I sighed deeply; my head was finally starting to clear with every passing mile, only now the possible ramifications of the previous evening jabbed at my thoughts like little bolts of lightning. How had it gotten so out of hand, I thought to myself, as I closed my eyes for some solace? God -- how many had there been? I didn't want to think about it -- nor did I want to think about my behaviour toward my husband after he had discovered me -- alone and naked -- in the grotty bedroom! My god -- and the things I'd said to Garry back at the motel when I'd showered! I felt like vomiting. Had it been the tequila? I couldn't be certain -- it had been many years since I'd drunk so much of the vile stuff -- but if it had been, and I had just passed out as a result of intoxication, how come I could remember so much of the detail? Maybe they'd drugged me -- Rohypnol or something similar? But didn't that give you amnesia --something that I was sadly lacking at the moment? It all didn't make too much sense to me at that moment. I'd never been promiscuous before in my life -- so why would I start now? Was it just because an old friend of Garry's had told me a story of how his wife had become pregnant to my husband over ten years earlier? Sure it had made me mad -- but not enough to allow them to...to fuck me! Well, I certainly wouldn't have thought so. So why did I? Morbidly, I began to cast my mind back over some of the events of the previous night... * * * Finally I'd started to relax. I looked over at my husband and noticed he too was looking pretty laid-back as he sat talking to his old friend, who had just brought over another beer for him. I still wished we had not come to the grungy-looking Clubhouse; I would have much preferred to have spent the evening at one of the quaint cottage restaurants that the wine-growing area was renown for -- but no, here I was, with two men -- one on either side of me -- doing their best to chat me up it would appear, as I casually lent up against the bar. I suppose I should have been flattered. One of the men was not much older than a boy really -- quite good looking though -- and very attentive. Why he should be interested in a woman old enough to be his mother eluded me? And the other man -- well he was certainly your stereotypical biker-type -- tattoos and long hair, ear-ring and goatee. At least he was closer to my age -- but still youngish -- about thirty, I'd guessed. I remembered his name was Hogan -- the boy's name eluded me, ironically. Garry's friend, Mick, had been talking to me earlier before he'd gone over with a beer for my husband. That's when Hogan had sidled up to me and bought a round of tequila slammers for the three of us. I should have known better, but funnily enough, I had not given it a second thought at the time. I was actually flirting back with the two of them like I had not done so in many years! A little bit of reciprocal flirting every now and then does wonders for the ego -- I have to tell you! Well, it did not stop at one round of slammers -- another two followed the first in almost quick succession! My small frame of 5'3" was not used to hard liquor these days -- if it ever was -- I was more your glass or two of Chardonnay-type of social drinker now that I was all well-married, mature and mellow in my middle age. Getting a little bit tipsy, I'd barely noticed when the boy casually place his arm around me and commented again on my top. It was one of my favourites -- finely crocheted in white; it hung almost loosely from my breasts and stopped just short of my belly-button. I liked it because it accentuated my tanned midriff -- my husband liked it because the holes in it made it quite see-thru and once or twice I had daringly worn it without a brassier -- only for his delight! But not tonight -- quite inappropriate I had felt -- tonight I'd worn my beautiful new bra of black lace, a lovely French brand called Luxxa Capricorne. It was so chic, I thought. Again, I'd barely noticed when the boy's hand drifted down from my waist to rest lightly on my buttocks. The boy looked into my eyes and smiled, and commented on my figure. It was so flattering or course -- I knew then and there I should have told him to keep his hands to himself -- but instead I'd chuckled like a silly schoolgirl and let him have an "innocent" feel of my bottom. My husband often told me my bum was my best asset. He often told me how it had only gotten better with age -- and now that I walked five miles nearly every morning, I had to admit it had firmed up nicely too. What I'd imagined to be the tequila had relaxed me to no-end. The boy -- his hand still caressing my bottom through my jeans -- reached toward my hair with his other hand and brushed my auburn locks to one side and lent forward till his lips softly nuzzled my ear and he said something totally inappropriate to a married woman of good virtue -- he said he wanted to have sex with me! I know I should have slapped him and rushed over to Garry immediately -- but for some strange reason, I felt glued to the spot and instead, I merely smirked kinda awkwardly, and said something to him about being a bit young for me -- it just had to be the tequila! That was probably the turning point... It was almost as if in slow motion -- the boy moved his face in front of mine and kissed me lightly on the lips -- lightly, but deliberately! It had felt electric! My god, I'd instantly forgotten for the moment that my husband was sitting barely twenty feet away! The boy squeezed my buttocks a little harder and whispered in my ear how he loved older women --and he whispered in quite graphic detail of what he wanted to do to me... Instead of being disgusted with the boy's behaviour, I had a bizarre feeling of...well...of empathy toward him; a type of closeness... I danced up against him slowly...and said nothing of his wandering hands... I felt...I felt control of my faculties slipping -- the music thumped seductively -- rhythmically -- the tempo making my hips rock and my body move in time with it. And then desire erupted within me incomprehensively...and the darkened bar seemed to offer anonymity to the surreal feeling of serenity I was becoming totally immersed in. What was happening to me? How many drinks had I had? I was not sure... Coloured lights on the far wall flashed in time with the music -- and I moved with it too. Hogan -- funny name to remember I know -- he lent in toward me as I danced with the boy -- I thought he was going to kiss me too, but instead he told me to open my mouth. I could not fathom what he wanted -- but I did as he asked just as he leant in closer, and pursing his lips, he blew pungent smoke into my face. I breathed the smoke in till my lungs hurt -- and the back of my throat went dry. I had never smoked before! I closed my eyes as I held the smoke in my lungs for a moment longer, and then as I exhaled, I felt lips touch mine again -- surprisingly soft lips -- almost on reflex I allowed my mouth to open wider and a tongue darted in to explore in earnest. It felt so natural I kissed him back -- I knew from the stubble tickling my nose that it was Hogan and not the smooth-shaven boy this time. I don't think we kissed for too long before we broke apart -- and when we did, I laughed delightedly -- telling Hogan he was bad. I was cocooned in an odd little world and my husband was far from my thoughts for the moment. Then the boy turned me around so my back was now up against the bar -- and I'd offered little resistance -- and why should I, I remembered thinking? The boy moved in front of me again and he placed his hands on my waist and I continued to gyrate to the music -- my senses heightened enormously at his touch on my bare flesh. A weird tingling sensation of desire fluttered low in my belly as he move a hand upward -- beneath my little top! I shuddered involuntarily as I felt the boy's hand rest upon my breast -- and I sighed loudly and rolled my hips forward as if seeking him. He smiled knowingly and squeezed my flesh through the thin lace of my bra and I reached for his wrist to push his hand away -- and in my mind I did just that -- but in reality, I just held his wrist as he fondled my breast without recourse. The boy worked my loose top upward till my lace bra was on display for the small group of men that stood around us. As stupid as it now seems, I remember thinking how pleased I was to be wearing my new lingerie and how good my breasts looked in the low cut bra... The boy was quick -- a hand around my back unclasped my bra in a blink and I felt the pressure of the garment on my breasts ease. I attempted to reach behind to re-fasten the strap, but Hogan -- standing behind me -- quickly ran his hands under my arms and lifted my lace bra upward spilling my breasts from within! I squealed in disbelief -- and the few men watching cheered at the display! The boy grinned at me and ran his hand over my naked flesh, pinching and pulling one of my nipples. Hogan, standing behind me, held my top up near my neck just as the boy dropped his face down toward my bare breasts -- I looked down at the boy and giggled as he drew one of my long, sensitive nipples into his warm mouth... I told them to stop -- of course I did -- I was a happily married woman, wasn't I? But they didn't take me seriously -- they were all laughing -- and by now so was I... Things became a little blurry after that. Someone had removed both my crocheted top and my black bra -- maybe it was Hogan. I remember letting them both suckle on my breasts at the same time -- of that I am sure -- and I remember my bewilderment at being led over to the pool-table... A few men were laughing and making lewd suggestions -- and I felt powerless to stop them, powerless also to stop them from touching me and feeling me -- and dancing up against me. I didn't want the others -- I now wanted the boy to hold me -- to dance with me, and I looked for him amongst the small circle of men as they passed me from one to the other... The heady atmosphere of the dimly lit room throbbed with tribal music and flickered with technicoloured lights, further intoxicating me into a dreamlike state as I danced before the men. It felt like a lifetime, but I found my boy... and in his arms once again, I danced seductively against him, my naked breasts pressed against his chest and his hands caressing my bottom... and it was at that moment I felt an overpowering surge of desire wash over me, and through my veins an undeniable arousal coursed until I felt it was totally enveloping me. Dancing against him, I let the boy undo my jeans and edge them over my hips... Other hands, of whom they belonged I am not sure, helped draw my jeans down my thighs, and my boy gripped each orb of my naked buttocks, squeezing and pulling them apart to the delighted guffaws of the small audience... And none of it felt real... Not even when the boy turned me around and gently pushed me up against the pool-table, lifting me slightly till I was sitting on the edge, and holding my hand as I lay back against the hard felt-covered surface. Nor did it feel real when they stripped me... I'm not too sure who removed my high-heeled shoes -- but the boy was certainly the one who managed to pull my jeans from me as I lay back, my long auburn hair splayed out like a halo -- and I do remember my utter compliance -- no matter how inexplicable it may seem now! It felt like a dream -- it truly did -- and one that I had on occasion certainly fantasised about in the past, sometimes even while I masturbated when my husband had been away. But was it a dream now? Laying back, almost naked, I felt the room spin, voices were garbled and faces leered down at me lasciviously -- but it did not frighten me -- not at all - instead I remember smiling as I looked down my body toward my boy... I watched the boy discard my jeans onto the floor and then reach up my thighs for my g-string -- they were of the same set as my lace bra and I remembered lifting my buttocks off the table so they would not be damaged as the boy pulled them from me with urgency. My heart was pounding as I now lay there naked in front of a throng of ogling --leering faces. I felt someone grab my ankles and my legs were pulled apart. Someone sniggered and commented on my pussy and the little gold ring that adorned my clitoral hood. And I squirmed as hands felt me and prodded me -- surely it was just a dream? "Fer fucks-sake...she's wet!" I heard someone say, as fingers explored me roughly. "Git into 'er young fella!" another gruff voice suggested crudely. I felt them manoeuvre me till my butt was near the edge of the table -- my legs pulled up high. Looking down my body in bewilderment, I watched the boy step out of his jeans and move between my thighs -- my heart raced and I swallowed saliva that was rapidly building up in my mouth. The boy's penis was rigid with his excitement and it looked as formidable as Garry's ever did. He moved in closer. I don't know why, but at that moment I looked sideways to where Garry was sitting earlier -- truly expecting him to now be gone from there -- but there he was, slouched back, his eyes partly open with a blank look upon them -- and his teeth gritted with what looked to be defiance or something. I didn't understand -- why wasn't he stopping them? In my fuddled brain, a thought materialised from nowhere -- had he set me up for this? Is this what my husband wanted to see? I suddenly felt betrayed! Still looking at my husband, I flinched when I felt the boy rub his cock against me and flick his glans against my clitoris -- and almost instantly, my desire returned and I relaxed my vaginal muscles in anticipation as he began to apply pressure. The feeling of the boy's penis touching me was electric -- I now desperately wanted to be fucked and didn't care who it was between my open legs at that moment! Nor did I care about the small audience that had gathered around the pool-table watching us both. My inhibitions had completely dissolved for some extraordinary reason of which I could not quite fathom. Closing my eyes briefly, I grunted lustily when I felt his cockhead slide into my moistened vulva and nudge forcefully for a few seconds at my tightness before it popped past my vaginal opening. Oh, the feeling was absolutely exquisite; I could not remember my pussy ever feeling so sensitive! Again, I looked over at Garry -- in my mind, he now looked to be smiling serenely -- or was it really a grimace? I could not be sure, but I smiled back at him anyway just as the boy began to slide his long cock back and forth into me. The boy wasted little time -- soon he was fucking me in earnest to the slaps and cajoling of his friends who now watched on -- and I found myself encouraging him vocally too! I seemed to be in an extremely heightened state of sexuality -- my every nerve ending from my nipples down to my clitoris -- and even the walls of my vagina -- they were all on hyper-drive, and every part screamed to be touched! Maybe it only lasted a minute or two -- I'm not too sure -- but it felt sooo damn good! I eagerly pushed my hips forward when I felt the boy tense up -- and then smiled up at him as he grunted victoriously like a triumphant gladiator just as he ejaculated. I wrapped my legs around his back and pulled him in even harder, until his cock was buried as deep as he could force it inside of me! The feeling was magnificent -- I actually felt his young cock throbbing with youthful vigour as his semen shot against my cervix! Then I heard someone telling him to hurry up -- and I naively thought it was over. I was almost delirious with a weird combination of lust and confusion! Had I really just let a boy who I'd only met a few hours earlier have sex with me...on a pool-table...while my husband apparently looked on? Surely it was a dream? I closed my eyes as I felt the boy withdraw his cock from my pussy. I knew I was smiling like a lunatic as I squirmed around on the hard table in time to the hypnotic music that sounded sooo erotic to me. I was lost in a world where I just wanted to savour the moment in the company of my new friends -- and I barely noticed my legs being parted again as another warm body moved in between them. I felt hands rubbing my breasts -- rough hands. I mewed when one of my nipples was pulled and twisted recklessly. It was all feeling just way too good for some reason that I did not care about at the time. With my eyes still closed, I could picture in my mind what was happening between my legs -- it was as if I could see myself from above. It was the handsome biker, Hogan, now standing between my legs. His cock looked superb, like sculptured marble, thick veins criss-crossed its length and a big glob of clear pre-come glistened beneath the glow of the overhead pool-table light. My pussy pulsed with anticipation at what I was about to receive. Much thicker than the boy, I was surprised at how easy his well-aimed cock entered me -- there was only a modicum of resistance as his long thick penis penetrated me completely in one lunge...it felt magnificent... Within seconds of Hogan entering me, I came -- my orgasm was like nothing I'd felt in many, many years! And as Hogan fucked me with long, deliberate strokes, my pussy pulsed and twitched continuously for what seemed like an eternity. It was absolutely mind-blowing! A series of orgasms engulfed me so strongly that anyone watching would have thought I was having a fit! I was so enraptured that when someone grabbed my long hair and pulled my head toward the edge of the table, I felt only bliss. And when a penis was forced past my soft lips I willingly opened my jaw to accommodate... Hogan fucked me...and I sucked and slurped on the cock in my mouth, greedily seeking contentment again and again... I was barely comprehensible when someone finally lifted me off the pool-table and carried me to the darkened bedroom down the hall. I remembered the smell was horrible at first -- and the mattress that I was laid upon felt dirty -- but it was soft -- far more comfortable than the unforgiving slate of the pool-table. I was not too sure at all who was in the room with me. For a moment I thought they were going to let me sleep. But I was wrong...sooo wrong! Tongues lapped at my nipples -- and cocks rubbed across my face seeking my mouth. I had no idea how many of the bikers were in the room with me -- maybe two -- maybe more? An unusual sense of order seemed to prevail though after an initial rush to grope every part of my body. And although my previous state of arousal had abated somewhat -- I did not try to deter them -- my state of mind was almost dreamlike -- it could have actually been a figment of my imagination, I thought at the time, and I just went with the flow...oh how I went with it! Final Act of Revenge - Part II It was when I was rolled onto my stomach and my hips pulled into the air that some semblance of reality struck a cord -- that, and the thick finger that prodded at my anus while warm saliva was dribbled down onto my bottom... A man in front of me had positioned himself beneath my face -- and with handfuls of my hair, he guided my face down onto his cock...just as whoever was behind me began to finger-fuck my rectum! I didn't want them to continue -- but, even more oddly, I did not resist in any shape or form either! And as I gobbled the smallish cock in my mouth with some enthusiasm, my bum was fingered and my buttocks were squeezed and slapped... The anonymity of the darkened room gave me a sense of wellbeing of sorts -- my care factor was at an all time low. The finger in my anus actually felt quite good, I thought. Then the thick digit slipped out, and I felt him move in closer behind me, moving my knees apart. He pushed me in the small of my back making my bottom poke upward and I felt him run his penis along my slickened pussy a couple of times...then he entered me...and I went back to sucking the cock partly filling my mouth... Less than a minute later, the cock withdrew from my pussy -- just as it had started to feel good too! I was about to say something, when I felt him prodding at my bottom! That's when I really should have said something! No one had fucked me in the arse since before I was married -- and it had only been happened once -- and I had been totally reluctant! Not even my husband went there! But I said nothing... And, relaxing my sphincter as he pushed into me, I was surprised at how easy it went in -- and I was more than surprised at how good it felt too...sooo good in fact...in a really weird sort of way... I let them use me without recourse; and they were in no hurry it seemed. I let them manoeuvre me around till I sat over one of them and I lowered myself upon his cock -- all while the one behind me still had his cock deep in my rectum... ...and they were certainly not the last either before they had finally tired of me and let me sleep...sore and abused...dirty and smelly... but absolutely and well and truly...sated! * * * "Claire! Claire!" I shook myself out of my daydream when I heard Garry calling me. Momentarily disorientated, I looked around and noticed we had pulled into a shady wayside stop. "Are you alright?" he asked me. I nodded. It had been the first thing he had said to me since we had left the motel hours earlier. "You seemed to be in a trance or something?" "No...really...I'm...I'm okay..." Just hearing Garry's voice, with its tone of caring modulation, brought on a sudden feeling of utter guilt! What had I done! "I've got to go to the toilet, Garry." Quickly, I hopped out of the car and headed for the public toilet block that was made out of green corrugated iron less than thirty feet away. Once inside, I knelt over the bowl and vomited! Not much came out -- mostly vile-tasting bile -- but it made me feel a little better. I then raised my skirt and lowered my g-string, then sat down and urinated. Looking down at the crotch of my panties, I could see a smear of what was no doubt semen, now partially dry. And I felt like crying. Returning to the car, I tried to avoid my husband's eyes. My guilt overpowering to the point I felt I would break. Any confidence I had felt hours earlier as I mocked my husband while I showered in the motel room had now completely evaporated to be replaced by a feeling of deep anguish. What had I done indeed! "Claire...I remember stuff-all of last night...absolutely stuff-all. I reckon they slipped me a Rohy or something the fuckin' bastards!" I said nothing, but merely stared down at my hands folded in my lap. I, unfortunately, remembered almost everything it seemed, but was I going to tell my husband? "Tell me Claire, if you'd been slipped one as well, you'd be pretty much a blank too. I reckon you were still out of it when we'd got to the motel...how do ya feel now?" "I feel like...shit..." I said solemnly, and I did too, only much, much worse. "So you don't remember much either?" Garry asked. "Bits." "Bits? What bits?" he asked. I said nothing. "Look, if those fuck-heads doped you up and raped you! By fuckin' Christ...I'll...I'll..." "Honey...can we just go home now? It's still a long way to go," I said softly. Garry started the car and we headed back out onto the highway. The traffic was light and we had a good run for the next few hours. Neither of us spoke much to one another for awhile -- but I could tell it was just simmering below the surface with Garry -- he wanted to know -- he wanted to know if I could remember what had happened... Ironically, my mind became clearer and cleared as nightfall approached, and with the clarity, came the deep pangs of guilt -- I still could not understand how I had let it happen -- but there was no denying my vivid memory of the immense pleasure I had felt at the hands of all those men! With the darkness, came a sense of privacy too, and as my husband concentrated on the road ahead, I let my hand wander up under my skirt and touched my tender pussy. It felt puffy, but surprisingly, was not too sore anymore. With my legs slightly parted, I rubbed myself gently for awhile and felt some solace at the little tingles of pleasure as my fingers bumped against my hardened nub of flesh. I knew Garry didn't like driving too far into the night in this part of the country -- too many animals on the road -- so we pulled into a nothing sort of place that had a few cheap motels and booked a room for the night. I knew if we drove like we had today, we would be sleeping in our own beds the following night -- thank god! And maybe then I could forget? We had a light meal at the motel restaurant -- neither of us eating much. Garry had a couple of Shiraz's, and I had half a glass of Chardonnay before we retreated into our room. Sitting on the edge of the bed with my husband felt surprisingly uncomfortable. He must have felt it too, because he went to the bar fridge and pulled out a cold glass and poured himself another red from the small selection of bottles on the shelf above the fridge. "Well, Claire, do you wanna talk about it now?" My throat felt dry. "Look, I've been thinking, one of three things may have happened last night," Garry said matter-of --fact like, "Those arseholes gave you a Rohy like they did me...and you don't remember bugger all. Or just maybe they had loaded you up with ecstasy...doesn't fuck up your memory like Rohypnol...fucking dance drug all the kids are using these days...bit of a love drug they reckon...lowers inhibition and can be a turn on for some." I sat up straighter, as my husband described the drug's affect that closely resembled how I had felt the night before. "So what's the third one?" Garry gulped down the glass of wine and looked at me. "The third one? Mmm...well maybe you just let yourself get pretty drunk...your flirting got out of hand...and out of some bitter sense of revenge because some prick told you a story...you just let them fuck you over while I was out of it." I couldn't help but snigger contemptuously at that, "You really think I'd risk all sorts of STD's just to get back at you for screwing your friend's wife and getting her pregnant all those years ago?" Garry poured another glass of wine. "You don't know me very well if you think I'd lower myself to that level, you bastard!" I said scornfully. I was really hurt. "So you remember?" "I remember! And pretty much everything too!" I retorted before I had a chance to catch myself. Garry looked at me with resignation, slumping his broad shoulders. "Do you wanna talk about it to me now?" he said softly. "I'm tired, Garry, really, really tired...and I...I feel so ashamed..." I thought I was going to cry. "How about you have a shower and get into bed? If you feel like talking..." he didn't finish his sentence, merely shrugged his shoulders and smiled feebly. The shower was soothing; I let it run over the front of my body for several minutes -- just standing there quietly and occasionally caressing my breasts with a bar of soap. I could see myself in the bathroom mirror as it slowly fogged up -- I could see several small welts around my nipples that had to be bite marks -- and turning around, my buttocks too had marks on them, one of them quite large with teeth marks forming a distorted circle. Surprisingly, I felt no discomfort. I let my hand drift down to my pussy -- and ran my index finger up and down my little slit several times and smiled with relief -- it felt normal -- quite normal, with barely a skerrick of tenderness, I thought, incredulously! When I re-entered the bedroom Garry was laying back on the double bed almost asleep. His eyes lit up when he saw me though -- I'd slipped on my red-sheer chemise that was his favourite (but I rarely wore). I had brushed my auburn locks so they cascaded over my shoulders the way I know Garry likes -- and I smiled feebly at him. "You look nice, Claire. Do you feel a little better?" I nodded. Standing there by the bed, I felt a bit uncomfortable for a moment as Garry looked me over. I knew my nipples, sensitive to the touch of the light fabric, were quite hard and their size prominent beneath the chemise. The soothing shower and the gentle masturbation had sparked a desire in me that should have been the farthest thing from my mind. It was bizarre to say the least. "I'm...I'm sooo sorry, Garry, I don't think I can explain it..." "Honey, it wasn't your fault! You were drugged! And it was all because of something I had stupidly done years ago," Garry said consolingly, "For fuck-sake talk about hold a grudge, the arsehole!" "Do you think it was Ecstasy?" Garry nodded, "I've read a bit about it lately...can be pretty dangerous you know? People drop dead from using it sometimes!" "Oh Garry, I am really sooo sorry for what it made me do...please, please believe me..." Garry looked at me inquisitively for several moments as if thinking and sighed, "Claire...if it was Ecstasy...or MDMA...it doesn't really 'make' you do anything." Now it was my turn to look confused, "What do you mean?" "It merely lowers your inhibitions...or so they say...you may feel love and empathy for those around you...but it won't make you do something you don't really want to..." "Are you saying I wanted them to...to use me?" I asked, my anger starting to return. "Things feel and sound a lot better with Ecstasy use in some people. Please don't get wound-up when I say this...it can heighten arousal...but you need to feel aroused in the first place," Garry said softly, "It's like the old saying, 'you can lead a horse to water'..." "But you can't make it drink..." I finished for him, "So...I wanted it?" "Well, not necessarily...but the suggestion may have seemed okay to you at the time...maybe it had been a fantasy of yours?" "Christ, Garry! Fantasising about being... well you know... being tossed up...is one thing. But allowing it to happen?" "Drugs, Claire...what can I say..." I sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. What my husband had just told me made sense --unfortunately -- a lot of sense. Laying back on the bed, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and began, "Almost every part of my body had tingled to be touched...the music...the atmosphere of the darkened Clubrooms...the attention of who I thought were some pretty good-looking, but manly type of men...oh Garry...it was all so...um, sooo utterly sensuous...erotic even..." Garry placed a hand on my bare shoulder and squeezed gently, "So...did you enjoy it...any of it?" I should have been really angry with his question -- struth; just what did he truly take me for! But strangely, I felt a warm tingle flutter in my loins instead, and I smiled inwardly at the memory, "What do you want me to say?" His hand on my shoulder rubbed my skin in little circles, gradually working down to the top of my breast. "The truth, I guess. I dunno why, but I wanna know what happened to you..." he said, as he casually lowered a shoulder strap to my chemise, and eased the lacy part of the top down till one of my breasts was partially exposed. I sighed again, "Well...you asked for it," I hesitated for effect, "Garry, it was one of the most sexually-energised experiences of my life!" His hand near my breast stopped moving for a moment and I opened my eyes only to see a sudden look of resignation wash over his face. "And?" he asked in almost a whisper. "And! Do you really want to know more?" I asked, shaking my head in confusion, "How does it make you feel, Garry, knowing what happened to me? To your wife?" He looked at me solemnly, "Geezus... I'm pretty much shattered, without a doubt! It's all quite unreal at the moment..." he said shaking his head glumly, "But...but I feel I just need to know..." I looked at him inquisitively for a moment, "Alright then," I nodded in acquiescence, "But you're not going to like it..." I paused momentarily, "Garry, I pretty-much enjoyed every moment of it...is that what you wanted to hear?" His hand went to my bare breast and he ran his thumb and forefinger gently around my long nipple -- twisting and pulling it upward as if trying to make it grow even larger. I closed my eyes and shook my head in confusion -- my confession should not have brought this on -- surely? "It's alright, Honey, you may have had the desire...but it were those bastards who spiked your drink with the Ekky...and that removed your natural defences," he said forgivingly, "At least you're not hurt...you're not are you?" he added quickly. I sniffed, "Um...well...me bum is a bit sore I suppose. Got a fairly big bite-mark on there you know." "Gis a look," he said, helping me roll over onto my stomach. I felt him lift up the short hem of my chemise -- I wasn't wearing underwear -- and I heard him whistle. "Nasty...already bruising up," he remarked as he touched my buttocks softly with the tips of his fingers. Gently, he rubbed my bottom soothingly for several moments. "Anywhere else...you sore anywhere else?" "Well...I thought my...um...you know...my pussy...I really thought it would be pretty sore..." I said somewhat candidly. I felt him open my legs slightly -- I guessed he was looking at my quim for evidence of my ordeal. "Uh huh...and? It still looks alright..." he offered huskily. "Oh that's good. It's amazing really, Gaz, I didn't think I'd be able to walk for days!" I quantified for him further, "And even me little poo-hole even feels pretty good..." I blurted unthinkingly. "Did...did you let...I mean...did one of them really...you know?" Garry stammered. I swallowed deeply and sighed, "Oh, I'm sooo sorry, Garry," I answered softly, "But it was really quick...barely got it in..." I lied; how could I tell my husband the truth now? "Did he come in you?" "Um...I don't think so...it happened so fast..." I lied again. I knew that at least two of them had unloaded in my bum -- and they were both far from 'quick'. "The fuckin' bastard!" my husband snarled. "Oddly, the worst part is my jaw really aches..." I blundered, trying to change tack. "What, from suckin' their fuckin' cocks I suppose?" he snapped. I went quiet for a few moments; I did not want to have things turn uglier than what they already were. "Very funny...no...but I remember that for some reason I was grinding my teeth..." "Or yeah, righto!" Garry paused, as if thinking, "Grindin' ya teeth? Yep, that's another side effect of Ekky's...they reckon some people even break their teeth!" "Uh huh...that must be it then..." I acknowledged. "So...did ya suck any of them off?" he added. "Oh Garry...what do you reckon?" I said, getting annoyed immediately. "Is that a yes? Huh?" he asked, momentarily squeezing my bruised bottom and making me flinch, "How fuckin' many?" I sighed yet again, "Mmm...you really want to know?" I asked bemusedly, "Two, I think..." "Whadda ya mean, you think?" he said, needling me. "It was dark, Garry, I'm not too sure!" "Did they come in your mouth?" I wanted him to stop asking me about it -- I wanted to forget -- but he asked again -- he really wanted to know! "Yes they did, Garry, both of them! There, is that what you wanted to hear? I swallowed too, every last drop!" I said angrily. I know I shouldn't have said it, but I was tired and irritable -- and Garry was being bloody persistent and giving me the shits. Christ, I though he would have blown his stack at my confession -- I had never swallowed his cum -- ever! Strangely, my husband went quiet for a minute or so. And oddly, I could feel him running his hands up and down my back, slowly caressing me quite tenderly. Then he worked his way down and over my buttock and to my thighs and tickled me for a bit while gradually working my legs open -- then moments later, he was running a finger up and down my slit. It felt nice and I smiled to myself. "Sooo...do you want to fuck me too, huh?" I asked mockingly. "Dunno...maybe..." he said softly as he opened my labia and pulled at my inner lips gently, "You gonna let me?" "Maybe..." "Geez, Claire, have they turned you into a flammin' nympho or something?" I chuckled, "The drugs...they just lowered my inhibitions, remember...your words." "Fuckin' lucky you never discovered party drugs years earlier then, hey? Otherwise I wonder just what sorta slut my wife would be now!" Garry admonished, but in an ironically light-hearted tone. Suddenly, for the first time that day, I actually felt like laughing properly, "You want me to give you a bit of an idea?" "Whadda ya mean?" "Well...how many cocks does a girl have to have to make her a slut? Maybe after last night I'm already one?" Garry inserted a finger partway into my pussy, "Um...yeah, righto then. I guess you could be. So for the record, just how many of the bastards fucked you!" "I don't think you could handle it if I told you," I said, opening my legs a little wider. "What's done is done, I guess, ya pussy still feel alright...the little thing that it is...so I'm guessin' it wasn't more than...I don't know...three?" I laughed almost cruelly, "Wishful thinking my dear hubby...wishful thinking. You want to know? Well...if you do me now...you'll be number six!" I said, not quite truthfully of course. "Number six, hey? Are you serious? Cripes, that would have ta make you a slut for sure!" he gulped. I could hear his breathing labour for a few seconds as my confession sunk in. "So who were they? I wanna know, Claire. I remember you told me this morning that that cockhead mate of mine, Mick, fucked you last...fuckin' arsehole...and I think you said the young prick you were standing up at the bar with was first..." "You remember correctly..." I said softly. Garry inserted a second digit into me and slowly started to finger me, waiting for me to confess even further. "The good-looking one called Hogan...he was second...he had a really big cock, really big..." I cooed, as Garry tried to work a third finger into me, "Don't you remember watching? I was on the pool-table and I thought you were looking right at me?" "I don't remember a fuckin' thing..." he said despondingly, gradually driving his fingers deeper into my wet pussy. "Mmm...that's nice, Gaz...nearly as nice as a thick cock," I said, wiggling my butt a few times as he worked his fingers back and forth. "You see, at the time, I really thought you were consenting to it...that maybe you had even set it up with them? Wow, I musta been really out of it to think that, hey? Anyway...well...then they took me into the bedroom..." Final Act of Revenge - Part II "What happened then?" he asked huskily. I took a deep breath and continued (confession is good for the soul, I reminded myself), "Well...two more did me...it all happened pretty quick though..." again, I wasn't being totally truthful. What I had told my husband was bad enough; I didn't have the heart to be totally honest (a partial confession would have to do). "Argh shit! Fair-dinkum? Geezus, Claire, I hope you haven't caught anything from 'em!" "And me too of course! But Honey, think about it, do you think your old mate, Mick, would have had me last if he thought he was going to catch anything?" "I suppose not...hmm..." he said wistfully, "Hey, wasn't there a used condom on your big toe when I found you though?" "Oh I don't know...maybe there was. Isn't that a good thing...sorta? Anyway, I think there were a few of them in the room, wasn't there?" I asked. "Five of 'em did ya...fuckin' bastards..." Garry said, a slight tremor in his voice, "and you reckon you enjoyed it, Claire? Christ almighty!" "Sorry, but you insisted on knowing...look, you know I love you...and it's not ever going to happen again...ever...I promise. Hey, what chance is there of a set of circumstances like that ever repeating itself?" I said in an effort to console him, "Hey, if you're going to fuck me, can we hurry up and do it, 'cause I'm really, really tired..." My husband continued to surprise me -- even after what I'd just told him, he still wanted me. Was it because he wanted to reclaim what was rightfully his? I guessed so. He fingered me silently for a little while, kissing my bottom and caressing the small of my back before slowly removing his slickened fingers from my pussy and pulling me up onto my knees. With my head resting on my forearms he slid my chemise up under my armpits and moved in between my legs. I couldn't believe for a second he really wanted to have sex with me after my confession -- however abridged it was! But that's exactly what he did! He wasted little time too -- and blew his wad inside my slightly de-sensitised vagina within a minute or so -- just as it was starting to feel good! He apologised for coming so quick (as he often did after screwing me these days), and left me lying on the bed while he went and showered. I know it was wrong of me, but I couldn't help compare him to my experiences of the night before -- and unfortunately, it was undoubtedly the worst fuck I'd had! But I was certainly not going to tell him. My god, did I really have to tell him so much? My poor husband; and to think I even had him believing he was the sixth! If I really wanted to think about it, I knew it was quite likely he was more like the tenth or so! I felt confused, how could I have been so faithful to my husband all these years -- only to allow something so bad to happen -- maybe deep down I was really a slut after all? Was it really the drugs that made me so insatiable? I smiled to myself at the memory and began to rub my little clitoris -- if it was really because of the drugs, woo hoo, it had certainly made me horny -- and almost voraciously so! * * * Epilogue: Both Claire and Garry were extremely lucky. After several discreet visits to an STD clinic, they were both finally given the all clear and life settled down to some form of normality for them -- with neither of them talking about their ordeal again. Nearly two months later, Garry left for a week long business trip interstate -- or so he had told Claire. He hadn't been totally honest with his wife as to where he was really going -- and after two days driving he had returned to the bikers' Clubhouse -- he didn't go inside of course, merely parked down the street on the opposite side of the road and watched the place for over two days. While they may not have talked about it, the night at the bikers' Clubhouse was never far from Claire's mind, and she found herself masturbating over the wicked memory quite often when alone. She now knew that reality was far, far better than she could have ever fantasised in the past. But masturbation was not enough -- and Garry was far from satisfying her these days. With her husband gone for a few days, Claire decided to go out dancing. This was nothing too out of the ordinary in itself, except she usually went with a couple of girlfriends -- this night she went alone. Garry knew he had to pick his moment well. He didn't want to seriously hurt anyone of course -- although others may have not cared less. What they had done to his wife was unforgivable -- he could have understood if Mick had been the only one -- after all, Garry had fucked Mick's wife years earlier hadn't he? But the knowledge that at least five of them had Claire as payback? Totally unjustified, Garry felt, and now retribution was only hours away. The Clubhouse was a big old weatherboard house. In its day it would have been one of the biggest houses in the area and quite impressive. Garry knew the time it was safe to carry out his plan was close. Claire had heard about the dance club from her girlfriends -- and it appeared to live up to its reputation as a rambunctious place. It was jam-packed with mostly young people -- much younger than her. She felt a little self-conscious at first -- her skirt was very short and her small top was low -- but looking around, Claire quickly realised she was not too outrageously dressed after all... She managed to find her way to the bar and ordered a couple of tequilas -- why not, she thought. The music was pretty typical dance stuff -- loud techno stuff with too much bass thumping the walls. Claire had just finished her second tequila when a young man standing next to her started (trying) to talk to her. Claire knew what she wanted -- and she took a big chance -- leaning close to the young man she asked him something that he could not quite hear. She asked him again -- almost yelling in his ear -- and he smiled knowingly and nodded to her. Garry placed the incendiaries around the side of the house. He had jumped a neighbouring fence unseen, and peeled back a couple of rotting boards just far enough to roll the crude devices under the house. He was confident in the cheap timers he had fashioned at home weeks earlier, having tested a couple. Amazing what sort of info you can get on the internet, he mused. By the time they went off, he was certain of two things: one; he was going to be miles away -- and two; nobody would be at the house till much later -- when it would be all over. The young man led Claire through the throng of dancing, sweating bodies to a darkened booth at the back of the club. Two other men were sitting in the small booth drinking Coronas and they both looked Claire up and down as she stood in front of them while her new friend talked to them. She felt a little nervous. One of the men, a biggish fellow with a dark complexion, motioned for her to sit down next to him. He immediately put a large hand on Claire's thigh and smiled at her as he squeezed it. He told her he had what she wanted -- good ones too -- he told her the price, and she agreed readily. It was that easy. Garry drove away from the small town with a smile on his face -- in four hours time the house would be in flames. He would finally feel some comfort at destroying the Clubhouse. He knew they would not have had insurance on the place. It would put them out for quite sometime. The Ecstasy tablet was finally kicking in, Claire noticed, as she danced with her new friend. She knew what to expect this time, and she went with the flow. It amazed her how much better everything seemed -- the music and the lights fascinated her, and the crowd seemed so friendly. She cared less that she didn't know the name of the young man she was dancing with -- and she cared less how he was holding her against him. He was young, and that was what mattered to her the most. The incendiary bombs worked perfectly -- the old house was in flames within minutes of them igniting. As anticipated, no one was at the Clubhouse at the time. The fire brigade did their best to extinguish the blaze but it was useless -- the tinder-dry wood went up in a roaring inferno and all was lost. Some neighbours were heard to whisper amongst themselves how pleased they were that the eyesore was finally gone -- maybe they could finally get some sleep of a weekend at last! Less than two hours after she had arrived at the dance club, Claire was following her partner down a laneway just over a block away from the club. Once away from the loud music, she was surprised to hear he had an English accent as he told her he was on holidays with some friends. They didn't talk much more. In the secluded laneway, she let the young man bend her over the bonnet of a small car and remove her tiny panties. He wasted very little time -- he had his hard cock inside her welcoming vagina with as much formality as you would afford someone when asked for the time -- and it was just what Claire had wanted! He fucked her hard and fast -- and he lasted longer than she could have wished for, making her come exquisitely before filling her with his hot semen. Garry drove toward home at a sedate speed not wanting to attract undue attention to himself. His car was hired from a small company miles from where he lived -- he had taken the precaution to smear some mud on the rear plate before casing the bikers' Clubhouse and felt confident he would not be traced. He had also hoped his placement of the incendiaries near some of the house's old wiring would have investigators putting it down to an electrical fault anyway. Garry hadn't decided if he was going to tell his wife -- probably best not to, he thought. After they had fucked, the two of them returned briefly to the dance club. Her young lover managed to find his two friends he was travelling with and he introduced them both to Claire. She was pretty wasted by now -- the Eccy more potent than some on the street -- and she danced with the three young men like she had known them for years. Less than an hour later, the four of them caught a cab to the cheap resort the boys were staying at only a few miles away. There were two pools in the palmed courtyard of the complex and although the evening was warm, only one couple was cuddling together in one of them. Claire was led over to the spa at one end of the larger pool and without too much coercion; she was enticed out of her skirt and top, as the three boys stripped off also... The spa was warm and the bubbles further titillated her senses. She closed her eyes and let the boys fondle her body. She lifted her bottom when she felt someone tugging on her tiny panties and they were quickly removed. Giggling, she offered her breasts to them, her nipples hard as berries... Claire wasn't too sure who was first -- as things became a little blurry. She remembered being lifted to the edge of the spa and one of the boys moving between her legs. He fucked her for a few minutes, and then another boy slid his cock into her... And she loved it -- every moment of it! The boys took turns with her for most of the night. After the pool they had taken her to their room and fucked her senseless -- and Claire could not believe their stamina! This time, when she finally went home, she was quite sore from cock -- virile young cock -- and it made her happy -- sooo happy. Garry arrived home noticeably cheerful a day later, and Claire appeared pleased to see him. She seemed quite bubbly, he thought. She told him she'd gone out dancing one night while he was away -- and she teased him how some boys had tried to crack on to her -- and he didn't like it -- not one bit! If only he really knew? Over the next few months, Claire's sexual appetite ebbed and flowed -- Garry would go away on occasional business trips -- and Claire would go 'dancing' alone in an attempt to quench her almost insatiable appetite for young cock! Of course it was only a matter of time before her husband would find out what a whore she had become -- and all because of his little indiscretion with a friend's wife all those years ago... * * * * *