Breakfast at Tiffany's

There is a degree of non-consentuality within this story, so if the forum moderators don't decided to re-allocate it to the non-consent category anyway, consider yourself warned, rather than bitch about it afterwards.

As ever, any and all (even the complaints) comments are much appreciated and the constructive ones are taken onboard; enjoy.

I'd been out of the shower for only a few seconds when I heard Jack's call: "Breakfast's on the table Anna." Flicking still wet hair behind my shoulders, I grabbed a bath robe and rushed back into the bedroom before it got cold.

Sex with Jack wasn't especially good -- but discretion is guaranteed -- so I do sometimes wonder if I perhaps enjoy breaking the dietary taboo of eating the Full English Breakfast with which our trysts invariably conclude, almost as much as I do the sexual taboo of sleeping with my brother-in-law? I was telling Jack exactly that as I crossed the room, still closing and fastening my bath-robe as I walked.

It was only on reaching the table that I realised we weren't alone, the room-service waiter was still standing in the doorway. With the second glance, our eyes met and my mouth fell agape, while the dark haired young man, cast a knowing smile, wished me a "very good morning madam" and expressed his hope that "madam's breakfast proves to be as delicious as she's expecting" before closing the door and departing.

Jack was already tucking into his bacon and eggs and failed to notice that madam was now as white as a sheet, had lost her appetite completely and collapsed onto a chair as trembling legs buckled beneath her; what the fuck was Rob doing here! I knew my daughter Jess' boyfriend was a student at the city's university, I also knew that he worked a part time job in a hotel, but that job was at the Hyatt, not the bloody Tiffany!

I regularly, albeit subtly, checked to ensure that Rob still worked at the Hyatt and made sure that Jack never booked us into there for our trysts; so what was Rob doing here this morning? There was no doubt that he'd recognised me immediately and though he might not have noticed Jack on his own, with me to provide context, he would surely have done so. Oh fuck... fuck, shit, damn and fuck!

Dragging my attention back to Jack, I found him unconcernedly wolfing down his breakfast and there seemed little point in apprising him of the bad news; Jack's an adequate lover, but he's sod-all use for anything else. If I'd told him, he'd likely just go to pieces, panic and do something stupid; though to be fair, he was probably in far deeper shit at that moment that I was.

My husband Gordon may perhaps forgive my having had an affair; but an affair with his younger brother? Not one chance in hell! Divorce would be inevitable, but as we'd been married for almost twenty five years -- I'd been fucking Jack for eight of those! Gordon's rise from a salaried accountant, to multi-millionaire businessman had spanned those years; so even as the guilty party, our divorce wouldn't impinge upon my income or lifestyle by one iota.

Jack meanwhile worked for Gordon, or more accurately, was employed by him, with an impressive job-title and spectacular salary for a position which entailed no responsibilities or decision making whatsoever. Jack was there only because he was Gordon's brother and would be totally unemployable in the real world; while I was heading to the divorce court, Jack would likely be heading fruitlessly to the job-centre!

Jack had barely finished his meal before I was ushering him out of the door; we always left separately and though it was usually me who departed first, this morning I needed the room's privacy. The door had barely closed before I was dialing Rob's cell phone number, but it took me twenty minutes and perhaps a dozen calls before he eventually picked-up and I certainly wasn't leaving a message.

By then my concern had changed to anger; his excuse of having been cycling home and so not having heard the phone in his backpack just wasn't good enough and I ripped into him with all guns blazing!

No, he was still working at the Hyatt, but had been 'covering a shift' for some college friend. No, he hadn't been 'spying' on me, though having noticed a lady going into the elevator the previous evening which he'd 'thought' might be me, he'd arranged to deliver our breakfast order 'just to see'. No, he hadn't recognised my companion last night, but had 'realised that it was Uncle Jack' when delivering our breakfasts and no, he hadn't mentioned our encounter to Jessica, Gordon or anyone else.

Those answers and the calm and polite way in which Rob delivered them ought to have assuaged my concerns and anger, but I was so wound-up they seemed only to fuel it; rather than responding in a like manner I unleashed that fury. I demanded that he never mention what he thought he'd seen to anyone; it was just an innocent situation which he'd foolishly misconstrued. I issued threats toward too him; who was going to believe him anyway?

Certainly not my husband and daughter, particularly with Jack to back up my side of any story he might concoct. I said much more and would concede that this narrative doesn't perhaps convey the tone and language with which I delivered it. The sound of a couple of intrusive 'pings' from my phone was what finally caused me to pause and into that silence Rob calmly replied: "Check your messages Anna and I'll put the kettle on; I don't have any lectures this morning and my house-mates are all out." Whereupon, Rob simply hung up.

I glared at my phone for several seconds, before opening the first of two WhatsApp messages; this detailed an address, along with a cryptic message: 'So who will G&J believe?' The second was a video, only a few seconds long, which showed a woman - probably recognisable as me - walking across a room, while adjusting her bathrobe, to join a man -- possibly Jack -- at the table; if you paused the film at just the right moment I may at that point have been flashing all I had to offer, but nothing too damning; the accompanying sound track however, was ruinous:

"I really can't decide whether it's your stiff cock or these illicit breakfasts that keep me sneaking out to spend the night with you Jack". My assertion that nobody would believe Rob had perhaps always been a little over-confident, Jessica was smitten by him and Gordon too had often said what a 'grand lad' he thought Rob to be -- high praise indeed for any suitor of his only daughter - I threw myself face-down onto the bed and screamed into the pillows; those few words left no room for debate.

I was in my car within twenty minutes and courtesy of the sat-nav, despite making one stop, I was parked outside the address Rob had given me within another twenty; ample time to have settled on a new line of approach. The door opened as I reached for the bell and a freshly showered Rob, looking and indeed sounding very relaxed in sweats and t-shirt invited me in: "I've made you a mug of tea Anna, no sugar right? It's not quite the palatial splendour of Hawksley Manor I'm afraid, but we do our best."

The small terraced house was scruffy, but surprisingly clean and tidy, a far cry from the smelly squat which I'd envisioned of a place shared by five young men; that along with Rob's apparently casual demeanour, for a moment quite undermined me; but I took a breath and made my pitch.

Taking a line that the affair between Jack and I was casual and recent, that it had only arisen due to Gordon's waning sex drive -- he is almost fifteen years older than Jack - and that I would of course now be ending it. So, given the affair was over anyway, Rob's telling Gordon or Jessica what he'd witnessed, would only cause unnecessary pain; undermine Jess' respect for her mother and underscore Gordon's depression regarding his fading libido.

I hoped that I'd sold it well, but the look in Rob's eyes suggested otherwise: "Bullshit, the guys at Tiffany tell me that the two of you have been regulars in there for years; how much of the rest of it is also lies?"

How many times have I heard the old adage 'when you're in a hole, stop digging.'? But still I took one further shovel-full and offered Rob £300 -- all that the cash machine had allowed me to withdraw -- as a sign of my gratitude for his silence.

The expression that appeared on Rob's face told me that I'd messed up yet again and his response confirmed it: "You're offering me money; I thought whore's collected the money, not handed it out?" Rob's words stung, but the next, well...: "And let's be honest, the money you're offering me, to not tell Gordon what a treacherous bitch he's married to, is actually Gordon's money rather than yours anyway; how many different ways can you cheat on him?"

That really stung, but Rob still wasn't finished: "If you want to buy my silence, at least have the decency to pay for it yourself, not that you have much to offer beyond that adulterous cunt of yours; so how about that? Offer me a piece of what you've been handing out to Jack and God knows who else for years."

I was overwhelmed by Rob's rebuke, my mind a jumbled mess of thoughts and emotions: I was insulted, disgusted, shamed, even somewhat frightened by what he'd said and in the way he'd said it; but at the same time I was also flattered, excited and more than a little aroused by his proposal too. Rob's an attractive young man, who -- to my shame -- had made quite a few appearance in my private fantasies; I'd noticed the outline of his cock within tight jeans or shorts more than once, was it as well proportioned as it appeared?

That said, Rob's suggestion was outrageous, the very idea that he could treat me like a slut, just some cheap tart to satisfy his lust and nothing more; it was much like... like... perhaps the way I used Jack... It was also I realised a similar breach of Gordon and Anna's trust, if he were to fuck me, that made Rob no better than I was, just a cheating bastard who could no longer take the moral high ground, nor afford to spill the beans! I think it was that -- self preservation - which won the day.

I met Rob's gaze, with an indecently suggestive smile on my face and throatily whispered: "Sounds like a plan; take me to bed and let's see if you like what I've got to offer."

My bold response clearly aroused him and within moments Rob had led me into his bedroom, where I'd peeled off my jeans & sweater by the time he'd closed the door; if Rob wanted a wanton slut, then I'd give him one! My lingerie I held onto for a while longer -- lace trimmed, burgundy satin and skimpy as hell -- as they outlined what I was offering perfectly.

I couldn't help but smile as Rob struggled to remove his own clothing, he was just too busy ogling me! My boobs are far larger than my daughter's and Rob was bug-eyed, gaping at them; when I slipped out of my bra at just the same moment when his sweats reached his ankles; he almost fell on his face :)

Jack and I married long before 'Trophy Wife' became a term, but I've overheard 'Milf' being muttered more than once, so I know that I've still got what it takes to interest a man... whatever his age. I was still wearing my panties when Rob unceremoniously pushed me down onto the bed's edge and recalling his harsh words of a few minutes earlier, I steeled myself for the rough-fucking that I was surely about to receive; perhaps that expectation is what made what followed so memorable?

Rather than fall on me like some ravening beast -- from the way Rob checked his momentum and drew a couple of deep, calming breaths I'm sure that'd been his first intention -- Rob sank to his haunches between my open legs, leaned forward and delivered me a deep, searching, kiss; I was so surprised that it took me a moment to respond, but respond I most certainly did! That embrace lasted minutes rather than seconds, I was gob-smacked, I doubt that I'd been kissed with such intensity since I was a teenager.

When Rob finally broke away he took my nipples, each in turn between his lips, a hand invariably caressing the other breast whilst he did so; my nipples had been firm to begin with, but they quickly grew and hardened still further under Rob's stimulation. My boobs are far from small and have always been... shapely; at forty-six years old, motherhood and the passing years might have taken their toll, but that'd already been remedied by a talented -- there was only the hint a scar -- and very expensive surgeon.

Rob was clearly enamoured by my breasts and was certain that he'd never have enjoyed their equal amongst the girls of his own age; Jessica's certainly wouldn't provide competition. I recalled how delighted I'd been to discover that motherhood and nursing had left both my breasts and nipples, not only larger and more substantial, but more... durable too. I'd caught the glances which Rob had bestowed upon them in the past, so the attention he lavished on them now came as no surprise.

It was some while before Rob managed to drag his hands away from my breasts and his mouth remained latched onto them still! When those hands eventually slipped lower, crossing my stomach and grasping my panties, I raised my bum in an instant, eager to have him slide them free. Proceedings might have begun with a mindset to tolerate Rob's violation, but I was now more than ready to be fucked; indeed I was impatient for him to begin, but Rob blindsided me once again.

Dropping to his knees as he pulled my knickers past my ankles and over my feet, Rob didn't return, instead he grasped my knees, spread my thighs wide and pressed his face between them; his mouth arrived at the soft centre of my womanhood almost before I'd realised his intention.

Rob's tongue plunged unhesitatingly between the soft folds of my vulva, then a single firm stroke dragged it the full length of my pussy, where it concluded the pass with a firm stab directly against my clit; I grabbed him by the hair, pressed him more firmly into my crotch and positively squealed with delight.

Rob wasn't the first man to go down on me, though Gordon never had; too much for his inflated sense of dignity to allow. I'd had Jack eat me out often and other lovers too, but those I'd often suspected and as Rob now confirmed, had all been half-hearted efforts; no more than a means to an end, that 'end' being to stick their cocks between my legs just as soon as possible.

The attention that Rob delivered was a whole new experience for me, it certainly lasted for fifteen minutes and might well have been twice that; I really did float away on cloud-nine:

Rob began with three or four of those firm, full-length, tongue strokes, before transferring his attention to the sensitive petals of my labia on either side; besides his teasing tongue, Rob suckled and even gently nibbled his way around these and then back again, I was trembling and whimpering long before he'd finished.

Rob then introduced his fingers, gently parting those now swollen petals and wrapping his lips completely about my clitoris; when those lips began to vibrate, while Rob's tongue rasped directly, across my clit, those whimpers became a keening wail and I simply exploded.

Of course I'd been brought to a climax by oral sex before, or at least I'd thought that I had; but it'd never been like this! This was a full on, arch you back until you feel your spine crackling and howl like a banshee orgasm; Rob plunging those until that moment, ever so gentle fingers savagely into my snatch at the exact instant, simply drove it higher. He'd even forced his thumb into my bum; though at that stage I'd assumed that to be by accident.

I fell back onto the bed as that climax ripped through me, legs splayed and dangling over its edge, my feet just brushing the floor; I was vulnerable and defenceless, though to be fair, I'd no desire to defend myself. I was barely aware of Rob as he rose from his knees, pulled off his shorts and slammed his cock into me with the same savagery that his fingers had employed just a minute before; he penetrated to his full length with that first stroke -- Jesus but I was wet down there!

I might perhaps have screamed in response to the brutal impact as Rob bottomed-out, but it'd driven the last ounce of breath from my lungs and all I managed was a weak, gurgling, mewl. Perhaps fortunately, Rob sensed the extent of my dissipation, he partially withdrew and rather than spear into me for a second time, he held station above me as I gasped and whimpered my way to recovery; I didn't make it the whole way, but my vision had cleared and I was again breathing, albeit heavily, when Rob's assault re-commenced.

An evil expression had spread across Rob's face as he awaited my recovery and the words he uttered were equally baneful: "Is the adulterous whore back with us... it's time I found out if Jack was getting his money's worth." An instant later Rob's cock ploughed back into me, the penetration was every bit as ferocious as his first but this time there was to be no respite; Rob pounded into me, our coupling was barbaric, brutal... relentless. There was no concern for me... Rob simply used me.

It didn't last long, a minute or two at most and as I bounced around like a rag doll beneath him, Rob punctuated each stroke with a vile and degrading epithet: 'Dirty... Wanton... Filthy... Salacious... Sleazy... Old... Cheap... Scuzzy...' and of course, the oft repeated 'Adulterous', because each and every one was concluded by the word 'Whore!' It was a disgraceful violation, depraved and humiliating... so why in hell did I respond with calls of "Again... Harder... Do it... Fuck me..." and most often, just a simple "YES!"

When Rob abruptly ceased and began pumping his seed deep inside me, I was already lost in the throes of another powerful climax; I wouldn't have believed that I could achieve a second one of that magnitude so quickly. Oh Rob's cock had been special, even bigger than Gordon's in his prime and those were key words: 'In his prime'. Being reamed by a cock as hard as Rob's had for me been a distant memory, even Jack's had long since lost that... inflexibility, which only youth can bestow; beyond that of course had been Rob's vulgar annotation, no man had ever dared... disrespect me like that.

Rob stayed atop me as we both recovered and while he softened inside me, his cock never did slip out; was that his size, or more likely the position in which we were conjoined? When Rob eventually stood upright -- and finally withdrew -- I too sat up and immediately retrieved my discarded panties; Rob caught me by the wrist, snatched them from hand and tossed them away: "You don't need those Anna; I've not finished with you yet."

I was silent for long seconds, staring open-mouthed at Rob; that villainous expression was back on his face: But... but, you've had your fun, you've come... got what you wanted... you're not even hard anymore"

"I'm sure that pretty little mouth of yours can soon rectify that for me."

I glared at him: "In your dreams Rob, I don't do...that!"

Rob struck with the speed of a cobra, one hand grabbed me by the hair, while the other slapped me sharply across the cheek; his reply was equally commanding: "You're a whore Anna; whores do whatever's demanded of them... I'm not interested in what you did or didn't do for Jack and God knows who else; now that you're my whore, you-suck-cock!" A sharp twist of my hair and my mouth gaped open in response, I got no opportunity to voice a reply; Rob's cock pressed between my lips an instant later.

It was in that moment I realised that Rob had misread me, though I couldn't really blame him, as to be fair I'd not even recognised it myself: I wasn't and never had been anyone's whore, not Gordon's, or Jack's, nor indeed for any of the other lovers that I'd enjoyed over the years:

As Rob had so succinctly expressed it 'whores do whatever is demanded of them' and that'd never applicable to me! From the night that I'd surrendered my virginity, I had always been the one to.... call the shots, Anna dictated where, when, how, or even if she made love; that's the way the world works when you're smoking-hot and the one with the pussy.