A Wife's Revenge

To someone in his fifties, like Weston, I was certain they looked gorgeous. By the way he gasped, I figured I was right.

"Very nice..." he said and extended his arm, touching and caressing the nipple on one of the breasts. The man had struck me as a pervert, not by what he did, but simply by the way he looked. I can be very snobbish and I spared none of it on Weston.

"Yeah? You like?" I said coquettishly and smiled.

"Yes, I do!" he said and kept kneading the small bump as if it was the source of life.

"Well, good!" I replied and pushed the cover off my body, exposing my crotch and spreading my legs for a better view.

"Oh," panted the man, "I ain't never..." he caught himself.

"You ain't never what, Weston? Seen a shaved pussy?"

By now, I was truly enjoying myself. A distant buzz from the alcohol that I thought had evaporated remained and I had a fifty-year old - at least he looked like it - virgin right in front of me. Someone, who couldn't close his mouth as he was caressing my breasts. I loved it!

"Yeah," he admitted, his eyes firmly between my legs. "My wife..." he said, and it had sounded likemah hwa'f, "she doesn't shave like that."

"Oh, Weston," I said and leaned forward to caress his cheek. "That's alright, honey. You can have a big slice of my shaved pussy. You can enjoy it as much as you like." Having taken a shower, it had been washed clean, but again, I felt my pussy swelling up slightly. I was turned on by the little game I played with the man.

"I took two Viagra a little while ago." Said Weston and it had struck me as very arrogant for the men in the other room to assume I would be doing exactly what I was doing at this very moment. "I have a little problem, you see." I cocked my head in wonder, hanging onto every word. "Mhm?"

"My wife and I," I rolled my eyes discreetly. His wife was not the subject I wanted to discuss, but I decided to remain patient. "We don't sleep together much. We don't have a lot of sex." "Really?" I said, my eyes popping wide open in fake amazement. "When was the last time you guys... you know..." I nodded towards his crotch, triumphantly noticing him blushing.

"Oh..." sighed Weston, looking up on the wall as if looking for an answer there. "I reckon it had been some seven years." Good God, I thought. I've been married for seven years and there would be no way I would stay with a man who wouldn't want to be with me. And to think that he calls the seven-year draught 'not a lot of sex'.

"How come?" I asked. I put my hand on Weston's thigh and gently rubbed his dress pants up and down. I noticed him swallow hard.

"She says she doesn't like it. She says she's frigid." He said and for a moment looked very sad. I felt a small grain of shame stir inside my heart, but dismissed it immediately.

"So, if she doesn't want to have sex, you've no sex with her at all?" I asked, eyes still big. I must have looked like a silly little girl sitting there, asking him all these personal questions.

"I can't get it up for her anymore. Once or twice a year, she let me give her oral sex, but I can't really do much more. At least not with her."

"Oh, yeah?" I nodded. "And she likes that?"

"Yeah, she does. She says I'm very good at it."

"Ooh, good! And she cums?"

Weston smiled triumphantly. "Yes, she does."

"But she's frigid otherwise?"

"Yes." I was amazed at the man's ignorance, but decided it wasn't my place to educate him. If after all this time walking the Earth he couldn't distinguish between frigidity and plain disgust, it was him who was a fool and not me. I couldn't have cared less.

"You ever slept with another woman after your wife?" I asked and he shook his head from side to side, not denying nor admitting it.

"I tried, but I couldn't get it up for her, either. That's why I took Viagra. And, if I can't do anything today, you know..." he looked me in the eyes and for a moment I stopped pretending; he had my full attention. "I'd appreciate if you didn't say anything. I just wanted you to know up front, you know..."

"Oh, sure... sure..." I hurried to pacify his fears. "We can always try and see what happens, right?" I said and since it didn't seem like Weston was going to be the one taking initiative, I slid off the pillow and laid flat on the bed, the covers off, my body clearly exposed to his prying eyes. "Why don't you take off your clothes and show me how good you are with your tongue, then?" I said, softly cupping his crotch in my hand. He closed his eyes and sat like that for a moment.

The one thing that struck me as funny was that Weston's big ears were so thin, I could see the light through them from the small lamp on the computer desk. I wanted to laugh out loud, but thought the better of it. Here was an obviously very insecure man with an erection problem and laughing might be the last thing that would help.

"Come on, then!" I said and nudged his knee, making him get up. Weston kicked off his shoes, and then took off his dress pants, tie and shirt. He remained standing in a too big white undershirt and pure white Joe Boxer briefs. Very notably, he also forgot to take off his black dress socks. I decided not to comment on it.

Through his briefs, I could see the bulk of his cock, from what I thought half-stiff. It was a beginning. "Come one then, big boy, let's have you give little Miss Muffet some pleasure." I said and giggled. I couldn't believe I just used Colin's own words. It sounded very perverse.

Weston walked to the foot of the bed and knelt on the floor, grabbing onto my ankles and pulling me towards him. So much for shyness, I thought. I spread my legs and placed each foot on one of his shoulders, inching my crotch towards his face.

Ten seconds after he began to lick my clit and pussy, I realized his wife must have been lying to him, whether to be cruel or to make him feel better, I didn't know. But this guy had no clue on how to give a woman oral pleasure. He stuck his long, thin finger inside my pussy and slid it in and out, then twirled his hand around some, with absolutely no feeling of what he was doing. It was like I had a broken vibrator inside of me, I felt nothing. He sucked on my clit and accidentally used his teeth, and that was about it for me. I jumped up and smiled. "That's okay, honey, let's do you instead." I said and noticed the disappointment on his face. "I just don't want to cum too quickly, you know. We should do it together."

The explanation seemed valid enough and Weston seemed satisfied if not somewhat uncomfortable. Through his briefs, I could see that his cock was hard now. "Let's get this off..." I tried to be helpful and before he could object I pulled his underwear off, only to see his cock slowly going limp right in front of my eyes. It took a lot not to laugh in amazement and I simply raised my eyebrows and then looked at Weston.

"Oops." I said and bit my tongue.

"I kinda figured it would happen." Said Weston, reaching for my legs in order to make me lay back down again and he could work some more of his oral magic on me.

"No, wait!" I said exasperated. "You can jerk off without a problem, right?" "Well, yes." He said, obviously not warming to the idea of doing it in front of me. In spite of that, as if to show me that he could, he grabbed his cock and stroked it.

"How about you do that and I'll touch myself for you?" I asked and scooted up the bed to lean on the pillows. "When you're ready, you'll just quickly put it in, it should work then, right?"

Weston seemed somewhat uncertain, but didn't refuse. He walked over to my side of the bed and began stroking his cock with determination and very rapid strokes. It seemed like he was about to pull it off from under his fat belly.

I decided that before I forgot myself again and had another unprotected sex, it would be better to get ready in time. I reached past the pathetic figure of a standing man jerking into my face and opened the nightstand drawer, where Colin said I could find condoms. My jaw nearly hit the floor. This was the best goodies' drawer if I ever saw one.

It was absolutely packed with sexual paraphernalia, including dildos and vibrators, packs of condoms and there was even a strap on. I hated to think whom it was used on. I looked up at Weston and smiled, surprised that his eyes paused on the strap on excitedly.

"You want to try it?" I asked and pulled it out and dangled one of the straps on my finger, careful to touch as little of it as I possibly could.

To my great relief, he shook his head. "No, good Lord no." he said a little too eagerly.

"Okay," I dropped the thing back into the drawer as if it was contagious. Reaching for the unopened pack of condoms, I handed it to Weston. "Whenever you think you're ready, just pop one of them babies on, okay?" he nodded.

Just before I closed the drawer, I thought of one other thing that I had seen in it. A box of surgical latex free gloves. The look on Weston's face when he saw the strap on had betrayed his fetish or at least his fantasy. He must have been jerking off to the thought of his ass being filled with something big and stiff, I would bet my life on it. Since he protested, though, I thought I could compromise.

I took the glove out of the drawer and shook it off like it was a towel. It came apart and I quickly put it on my hand, all the while looking at Weston. His eyes never left the glove, and it only proved to me that I was right.

"How about a little massage?" I asked and for the lack of a better scenario, I got off the bed, and pressed the escape key on the computer, making sure the tone was very low before the video came into view.

"Come on." I invited him, my ungloved hand gently caressing my crotch. "Come on, no one need know." I nodded. "I know this is what you like, I saw your face. Come on, now."

Still stroking his cock, Weston awkwardly walked across the room and stood in front of the computer desk. "Bend over," I whispered and gently pushed his body forward. He did exactly as I told him, propping his weight on the elbow of the hand that wasn't occupied, the other one working on his own cock diligently. Ever so gently, I caressed his ass cheeks, then ran my hand up to his back and softly scratched against his skin, causing it to break into goose bumps.

As I ran the fingers in between his crack, he turned his head towards me. "Don't do it too hard, please. I've never..." "I know." I replied. "Don't worry, I won't." And for the first time since this man walked into the room, I truly meant what I said.

Like I thought before, Weston was the easiest one of all. I rubbed against his asshole a bit and then stuck a fraction of my finger inside, noticing that his stroking picked up the speed and he began moaning out loud. He was obviously completely unconcerned about the others in the adjoining room. I pulled the finger out and stuck it back in, this time as far as it would go, before Weston jumped up and hissed. He turned around and apologized. "It hurt a bit." He said.

"I know, but it also felt good, right?" I nodded as if the question was posed to me and he joined me in the acknowledgment. He returned into his previous position and it had taken four or five more times of my finger dipping inside his ass before he jumped up again, this time his face flushed, urgency in his voice overpowering.

"Come on, I'm ready." He said and reached for the condoms. He fiddled with the packet for so long, I was afraid he'd lose his hard earned erection. I didn't feel much like messing with a man's ass, Weston's or someone else's. I only did it because if felt sorry for him and he was so clearly enthused about the anal thing.

While he was struggling with the condom, I took off the glove and threw it in the corner of the room, lay on the bed, spread my legs wide, propped a pillow under my head and dipped the fingers inside my pussy, trying to look as seductive as I possibly could.

Condom in place, Weston almost threw himself on me, which was only the indication of his clumsiness in bed and confirmation of his clutsy nature otherwise. Rather than kneeling in front of me and hitting the target in a first go, he lay on top of me, pushing his ass in the air, pressing all his weight of the upper body on me and stabbing blindly between my legs. I wanted to guide him to the right spot, but couldn't get my hand in between us.

The situation was absolutely hilarious to say the least. I knew I'd be thinking about this later and pee my panties laughing. At the same time it had struck me as sad. He seemed to be trying very hard to impress me, only to totally blow it, even after I had seen through his poise and realized how goofy the man really was. It must have taken him some eight tries before he finally managed to squeeze his cock inside my pussy and a look of triumph washed over his face as he pushed himself off me.

I wanted to make a smart remark of being nearly suffocated, but thought the better of it.

What is there to say about the actual intercourse with Weston? That it was mighty quick, perhaps. Less than two minutes, for certain. He banged away like a madman with no rhythm that I could catch up on. I tried to fall in sync with him, but it was simply impossible. As soon as he stuck his cock in me he began whining and moaning like a cat in heat, something that was more scary than erotic. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth wide, gasping with each thrust and to someone who was privy only to the sound, it would probably have sounded like he was the one being fucked, not the one doing the fucking.

I lay there for a while, feeling completely inadequate as I couldn't help in any sort of way, or so I thought.

"You like it? You like it?" I heard him murmur and I was appalled over the audacity that he would even begin to think this was what sex was about.

"Oh, yeah, honey..." I said and closed my eyes in case he had the presence of mind to look into my face. "Mmmm..." I added, hoping he'd cum before my head reached the headboard and he slammed me into it with all the force he could muster. He fucked me so hard, I could feel myself slowly sliding towards the upper end of the bed.

Just like his finger in me before, his cock didn't do anything for me - good or bad. I felt no pleasure, save for the knowledge of what I was doing. There was no physical satisfaction, but I moaned and gasped just the same.

I slightly opened my eyes and peeped at Weston's face only to find him staring at me, his face an ugly mask of hard labor. "Come on, honey. Come on..." I said, hoping he'd cum before he broke anything, his or mine.

Suddenly, Weston's revolting face started turning deep red and for a moment I was afraid he was giving himself a heart attack, only to realize that this was the moment of his climax. He banged against me a few more times. The thrusts were so powerful, I could feel the tip of his cock hitting the softness inside of me.

Then he threw his head back and opened his mouth, letting out a terrifying scream, something between the roar of a wounded animal and an agony of a man who had just been scolded by boiling water. It pierced my ears and made my skin crawl. He stopped banging me hard but he didn't stop fucking. Like a jackrabbit he continued to pump, high pitched 'eee...eee...eee...' accompanying his pleasure and adding to my disgust.

As he ran out of steam, he simply plopped on top of me, and I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. I've finally had enough. "Get off me!" I said and thought the better of adding 'you freak'. "I can't breathe, get off!" I said in a panic, ready to start screaming for help from the others.

"Good Lord!" Weston gasped as he finally rolled off me. "Good Lord!" he tried to catch his breath.

"He's got nothing to do with it, buddy." I said. I wanted him to leave. "Come on, you gotta get up." I was beyond being careful and not rude. Surely, there were no more disgusting creatures like this out there. He was simply the most awful man I have ever allowed to touch me. I hated the sight and smell of him; I hated the fact that his forearm was now touching mine as he tried to regain his senses.

"I'm at the Sheraton," he gasped and turned his head to give me a smile. My stomach turned. "I'll be there for another week, it sure would be nice if we could get together again." I rolled my eyes. "I don't think so." I said and got out of bed, reaching for the drink, which I had previously decided would remain untouched. I needed a stiff one after this little escapade. "You need to go, now." "I'm from Georgia, you know." Said Weston as he got out of bed and clumsily looked for his clothes.

"No shit!" I couldn't help myself. If he mentioned another detail from his life, I would leave right there and then. But not before telling the little macho group outside that their buddy likes a little something up his ass. I would have done it, too if he dragged his feet, but the look on his face told me he finally caught on. He seemed surprised and in disbelief, only to change his expression to that of utter disgust.

"That's exactly how I feel about you. Now get!" I said and turned my back on him.

He left with his underwear on, the rest of his clothes and shoes in his hand. I felt my skin crawl and wished I could have taken another shower, but thought the better of it. The sooner I was through with this, the better.

"Tell the next one to come in!" I said just as Weston was closing the door. I was definitely beyond shame.

I searched through my purse wildly, hoping I didn't forget to bring my cigarettes. Just as I inhaled the first drag and headed for the bed, there was another knock and before I could say anything the door opened.

My heart sank when a man, who could easily have been Weston's brother walked in. Tall and skinny, with the facial features of the ventriloquist's dummy, I decided right then I simply couldn't do it anymore.

"I need a couple of minutes, sweetheart." I said and smiled sweetly. The man remained standing in the room like a deer caught in the headlights. "You guys have any coffee going out there?" I asked, trying hard not to snap. The man nodded.

"Okay, why don't you bring me a cup?" I asked. No movement. "Please?" I almost begged. I had to get the man out of my room instantly.

Without a word, the man turned around and walked out, closing the door behind him. It had taken me less than a minute to get dressed. I was throwing my clothes on regardless of whether they were on the right way or not. I had to leave.

How stupid of me to think of this as a revenge. If my husband doesn't know about it, it means nothing and I could never tell him. Not in a million years, he'd walk out on me instantly. He didn't care about the gender prejudice, and I knew it. To save a little bit of my face, I decided this was as far as I'd go.

At the door, holding my bag tightly to my chest, I took a deep breath and bolted out. Half mad with fear I searched for my coat and just as I had spotted it in the closet next to the front door, Colin tapped me on the shoulder.

"What's the matter?" he asked and my heart sank. Did I get myself into something that was way over my head? What if they didn't allow me to leave?

"I have to go." I simply said and scrunched the heavy coat under my arm. "I have to go." I repeated.

"Why? What's wrong?" he said, his face showing a genuine surprise.

"I just have to go."

Colin squeezed my shoulder lightly. "But I thought we had an agreement..."

"Yeah, well..." I sighed, slowly realizing that nobody was going to do me any harm. "Next time, you shouldn't send the freak to be the first in line."

Colin turned around and peeped into the living room where his friends sat drinking and were now trying to catch our words.

"He doesn't mean any harm." He said, turning his cold eyes on me again. "Did he hurt you?"