Consumed Pt. 01

"Claire, I am going to be perfectly honest with you," he said. "Leon was quite right. You are exquisite. You are the most incredible looking woman I've ever seen, and I have been all over the world." He started walking slowly around behind her.

"Would you like to take off your dress?" he said, catching her off guard, as he encircled her. The statement seemed to come from nowhere. And suddenly, there it was. Time to put up or shut up, as the saying goes, she thought. Claire's moment of truth had arrived, more quickly and more abruptly than she had expected. She could feel herself shaking. She slowly unzipped the dress and it slid into a soft, black puddle at her feet.

Victor stepped slowly around behind her. She could feel him pause behind her, a pause and then she flinched as she felt his hands on her hips. Slowly, he slipped his hands down and cupped the cheeks of her ass. Smoothly, she felt her lacy underwear being pushed down over her hips, down her thighs and come to rest around her ankles. She gently pushed the underwear and the dress off to the side and waited. She could feel the man staring at her as he continued his circle around her.

"And you know exactly why you came here. Your revenge. An unfaithful husband, I'm guessing. So now... you want revenge. Payback. Sex. Fucking strange men to pay him back," Victor said.

"No I I..." she stammered.

"No?"

Victor walked around and now stopped directly in front of her. Unable to control her reflexes, her hands moved quickly to cover her naked crotch. Slowly, Victor reached out and moved her hands back to her side. His eyes consumed her, top to bottom, no inch of her body was left unexamined. Her La Perla bra, her large breasts, her neatly groomed pubic hair, and the long slender legs that seemed to go on for days, all there as Victor looked her up and down. He took all of it in as he stood in front of her.

"Exquisite," he whispered, shaking his head.

Stepping forward, he stopped within inches of her. With no hesitation, he smoothly pulled down the zipper on his pants and an enormous cock emerged. Claire gasped... massive...wider than anything she could have imagined, a girth easily wider than her arm.

"Touch it. Go ahead. Touch it, Claire."

She slowly reached out and wrapped a hand around his enormous cock.

"Now, rub. Rub my cock."

Stunned and dumbfounded by the size of Victor's enormous penis, Claire began to slowly rub the massive piece of flesh.

He stepped nearer to her, his giant cock now stiffening, coming to life, just touching her body, a slight drop of precum trailed a glistening strand along her bare hip. Victor slowly reached behind her and in a deft, swift move, Claire felt her bra unsnap. The lace bra fell to the floor exposing her enormous breasts, nipples erect, jutting out in front of her.

"Truly exquisite," he uttered, shocked by the absolute beauty of the woman trembling before him. "God, you are quite beautiful. Amazing to behold. Now, begin. Suck it. Suck my cock, Claire. Excite the man you are about to fuck."

"No way," she thought to herself. "It's way too big. I'll never even get that in my mouth."

And this was certainly not what she expected. Maybe she did need more romance, she thought. More tenderness in her revenge tryst. She hesitated, averting her eyes away from his and down to the floor, realizing that she was certainly not ready for this.

"I'm sure you've never sucked an unusually large cock before. To begin, get down on your knees, Claire. Suck it. Put your married mouth on my cock and suck it. Feel it throb from wanting you."

She suddenly realized what Victor was doing. He wanted to shock her, repulse her with the pure vulgar, sexual nature of her actions. Not an affair. Not a romance with a colleague or a neighbor. This would be fucking, raw and dirty, she thought to herself. Slowly, she responded to Victor's command and knelt. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth.

The enormous head of his cock pushed into her mouth and Claire struggled to fit more in. She could only manage an inch or two of the monster into her mouth. She felt him push, hard, harder, forcing the massive meat toward the back of her mouth.

"Suck it, Claire," Victor ordered.

She could feel his hand grasp the back of her head, and with a slight but forceful pressure, he pushed her mouth deeper onto his rigid cock.

"Well, you may have seen a large cock before, but you've certainly never sucked one. You need some stretching to make a man happy. Your throat is very tight, and you don't know how to use it, Claire. You see, an experienced woman knows that the cock is going to go deep in her mouth, not just past her lips. The tightness of the back of her mouth, her throat, should relax, stretch. Look at me, Claire. Look a man in the eyes while you suck his cock. That's not what you were expecting, is it? A man fucking your throat?" Victor said.

She pulled back, freeing the massive cock from her mouth, tears quickly welling up in here green eyes.

"Too much... too big! I can't! I can't..." she said quietly, her eyes tearing up, as she looked up at him standing above her, his huge cock glistening, hard, just inches from her mouth. Then it happened. She started fully sobbing, as the dam of emotion burst. It was the sobbing of humiliation and despair. Of cheating husbands and unknown futures and shattered dreams. Then it was over. She could feel him step back, bend down and take her hand. Lifting her, he helped her to her feet.

"Go home, Claire. Forget you ever came here. Sorry I had to do that. Forget your revenge," he said and started to leave.

She started to dress as the man stopped walking toward the door, paused and turned back to her.

"Some advice. If you should change your mind and do come back, leave the Chanel dress and the Louis Vuitton shoes at home. If you come here again, it must be because any doubts you have are gone, any hesitation. This is not the place for that. Or for you. But, if you should return, I would suggest you wear something more practical, something that says you know exactly what you want and are ready to get it."

Victor opened the door and silently left, closing the door behind him, reserving in her a shred of modesty, as she quietly wept and began to get dressed.

Chapter Four

"Yes, fuck me harder!" Didi Lamont screamed, as Brad Hughes rammed his cock deep into her wet cunt as he lay on top of her on the hotel room carpet. They had rolled off the bed and onto the floor, knocking the bedside lamps over as they were fucking.

"Oh my God, do it! Harder. Fuck me harder. I love it in my ass, baby. You wanted that, didn't you? Now go get it, baby. Fuck my ass," Didi moaned.

And Brad did, loving something that Claire, his wife, would never do. That was Didi. No boundaries, no limits. He pulled his rigid cock out of her swollen, dripping vagina, grabbed it with one hand and flipped Didi over onto her stomach. He placed the head of his hard cock firmly against her tight, pink asshole.

Then he grabbed a handful of her long blonde hair and pulled hard, snatching her head back.

"AAAHHHH!" she screeched, and her body moved backwards, impaling herself in the ass onto his cock.

"You like that cock in your ass, don't you slut?" Brad grunted, as he pounded his hips against her round ass cheeks.

"Ayyeee! Yyyeeesss," she hissed. "Yes! Harder! Hurt me!"

He grabbed her hips and started pounding his glistening cock deeper into her rectum. The harder he pounded, the wilder she got.

"Yesssss, I want to come with you in my ass. Come on, fuck me!" she said, lunging forward and pulling Brad's stiff cock out of her anus. Brad quickly got on his back and Didi squatted down on top of him, and she re-inserted his stiff cock back into her now stretched asshole. She then sat roughly down on top of him and started bouncing away.

"That's it! Fuck it hard!" she said and put her hand on her clit and started to furiously rub her swollen clit.

"YYYYEEESSSS!!!" Didi screamed as she came. "Kkkkeeeeeppp going!!" she wailed.

"Oh, my God!" Brad thought. "She is crazy!" and Brad pounded away, the beautiful blonde bouncing wildly on top of him, rubbing away savagely at her protruding nub and swollen red labia and coming yet again.

"OOOOOHHHHH!" she screamed, as she began roughly slapping her cunt. "God, you keep that cock hard for me. I've got lots more that needs to come out," and she squirted a stream of liquid into the air, as she slapped savagely away against her smooth, shaved cunt, spraying and squirting all over Brad and all over the room.

Fortunately, the rug burns and the tell-tale scratches Didi left on his back would be healed by the time he returned home, Brad thought to himself, as she rolled off of him. She was panting hard, now wet and covered in sweat.

"Let's do it again," she said, and smashed her lips onto his as they rolled on the floor.

Back home, Claire Hughes was facing a very different dilemma. Two days had passed since her disastrous evening at the Gran Royal. She hadn't gone in to work, but called in sick, unable to focus, unable to think. She was a wreck. Two days of crying and raging and regretting, all came together as she poured back over the hundreds of files, emails, pictures, and notes of her husband's endless infidelities. Brad's constant lies and her countless stupidity sprawled before her. Now, two nights later, a fierce resolve seemed to come over her. Yes, she decided, there would be revenge. She would deliver pain, suffering and no shred of remorse for her lying, cheating husband. It would be a payback of hurt and heartbreak for the three years of her marriage he had stolen from her, three years of her trust, three years of destroyed love. She would humiliate him and tear his heart out.

That evening, she sat at her dressing table at home, preparing to do what she felt needed to be done, what she knew had to be done. "The sluttier, the better," she muttered. The dark glistening gray of her shadowed eyes stared back at her in the mirror. The long fluttering false eyelashes all combined to create a look of seduction... invitation, hunger, cheap sleazy sex. This time there would be no stopping, no backing out and certainly, no tears.

Looking in the mirror, aware of her trembling hand, Claire applied the thick grey smoky eye shadow around her eyes. The long false eyelashes fluttered as she brushed on another layer of glistening shadow.

"Are you sure?" she asked herself. Ah, there it was, her doubt. She was going to get rid of that tonight. She stood and went over to the full-length mirror. Tossing off the dressing grown, she stood naked in front of the mirror. She looked at herself for several minutes and then suddenly stopped. Something was wrong, different. What, she wondered? She stared at herself in the mirror. "What?" she asked herself.

Was it the "Tall Girl Slouch" from her youth? She needed to be strong, upright, shoulders back, standing tall and proud. What was wrong...? What had changed? Then she thought... the breasts? Since the boob job, she had probably, very gradually, started stooping and hunching her shoulders. Perhaps, deep inside, a tinge of insecurity about her new figure? She rolled her shoulders back and looked again at herself in the mirror. Her large breasts now jutted upward, out, huge, enormous, just what the men at the Gran Royal would like, she thought. She looked back into the mirror, and there it was, the new look, the proud, sexy body. No, she was definitely going to have sex tonight.

"What a fool I've been," she muttered aloud.

"That's the first thing that will change tonight. No more doubt," she said, as she stepped into her clothes closet and instinctively moved over to select a dress to wear to the club. "NO!" she said suddenly. Another mistake she would not make again. She turned and looked at the other side of the closet, that side of the closet that she had ignored for years. That was the side of the closet filled with scandalous clothes from the first two years of their marriage. Sexy, revealing dresses, boxes of scanty underwear, bras and garter belts that still had the tags on them, shoes with outrageously high heels, filling the space. These were all things that she would never have worn. Until now.

She stepped quickly over to the side where all the provocative clothes hung untouched. She pulled out a very short black skirt with the tags still on. "Not much of a skirt," she thought. "Won't even cover my ass. It's perfect." Then she grabbed a silver lamé top and took a moment, rummaging through several drawers filled with new, untouched, scanty lingerie. She grabbed several pieces and started to get dressed.

The bra she had selected was not really a bra at all, she decided. It was black satin with no actual cups. The cups were missing and only the straps were there, going around the sides of each of her large breasts. A small demi-shelf was under each breast, pushing everything upward. The bra covered nothing with its open cups and was not meant to cover anything, she observed. It was meant to shove her breasts up and out. It was meant to entice. To seduce. To offer her breasts, her body, to whoever wanted it. To Victor. Perfect, she thought. Yes, she would be ready tonight.

An hour later, the door to the Gran Royal swung open and a spectacular redhead stepped into the club. The tall, slim beauty strode into the club and stopped. Over at the bar, Leon stood facing the door, Victor next to him, his attention on the bar traffic. There was a rustle, an obvious disturbance in the atmosphere of the club when the door opened and then closed. Claire stood and gazed around the floor, the dancing couples rubbing and touching on the pulsing floor. Leon glanced at the door and then nodded to Victor, who turned and then a slight, almost unnoticeable smile came to his face.

She was wearing a silver metallic blouse that had a low, cowl neck, and was open completely down the front to her waist. Her enormous, exposed breasts bounced as she strode across the floor, a hint of a bra showing through the opening of the blouse. Her erect nipples jutted out, exposed as the blouse swung side to side as she walked. The tight short black skirt was stretched taut across her ass, her slim, long legs glistening. Her shiny black hose with lace tops were quite visible and the silver platform shoes with two straps around her ankles made her entire body shimmer. Her dark red hair was disheveled, wildly tossed over onto one side of her head, unlike any way she had ever worn it before. Long red whisps covered one eye and half of her face. She felt mysterious, seductive, unstoppable, and ready for her revenge.

The 5-inch stiletto heels clicked as she moved across the floor to an empty table. She sat at the empty table and instantly felt the cool leather of the chair on her exposed thighs and ass. Indeed, the skirt was as short as she had predicted.

"Well, Chanel, welcome back. Claire," Victor said with a small nod, and he stepped over to the table. "I really didn't think I'd ever see you again. You certainly have changed your look. But have you changed your mind?"

"A Revenge martin please, and I'll take it in the back," she said. She stood and without invitation or hesitation, she headed to the small hallway off of the bar and toward the rooms within. She walked straight to the back hall.

"This one" Victor said, pointing to an adjacent room on the opposite side of the narrow hall from the room they were last in. He handed her a frosted black martini glass and she drank half of it in one swallow.

Claire turned and headed into the room, a different room, somewhat larger than the one they had been in before. A large, black marble table stood in the middle of the room, two large white leather armchairs and a large leather sofa wrapped around the room, a huge white leather circular ottoman sat in the middle. The room glowed a pale blue, colored by the neon lights that covered the walls.

Suddenly Claire noticed two men slip into the room, quickly closing the door behind them. One of the young men was white and other more olive skinned. They had quietly stepped into the room and were now standing off to one side, watching her, their eyes glued on the beautiful redhead.

"What... why are they..." she asked. Claire was clearly confused as she looked at the attractive young men, one white in his late twenties and the other Mediterranean, Greek or Italian perhaps, she thought. Suddenly she felt an urge to run for the door, embarrassed by their presence. She and Victor would be watched? She was definitely not ready for that.

"They may provide options, if you feel a particular person or anatomy may be more to your liking," Victor said quietly, as he leaned and whispered in her ear. The heavy bass of the music on the other side of the door pounded the air in the room. She turned back and looked at the two men. Victor nodded slightly to them, an action, an order.

"Strip," the young white man demanded.

Slowly, Claire peeled the tight skirt down and then removed the blouse. She knew that Victor was again testing her resolve with these other men, so she wanted to show him that she was there with serious conviction. She was there to fuck. As she slowly removed her blouse and skirt, she looked all three directly in their eyes as she undressed. She certainly hadn't meant for it to become an erotic display, but that's exactly what it was, as she realized from the massive lumps in the trousers of all three men. When she finished, she looked at the young man who ordered her to strip.

"Well?" she said.

Now, standing there in her ridiculous cut-out bra, she stood offering her enormous breasts for their pleasure. She had never seen looks of pure lust like she saw in the faces of the three men. She was a lurid feast for their eyes. There she stood, the tiny satin shelf pushing her magnificent tits up and out, now both an invitation and an offer to them.

"Well?" she said again, seemingly snapping them out of the trance she had put them in.

With the small black thong still covering her sex and the shiny black stockings, she felt could not have been any sexier, any sluttier if she wanted to be.

"Truly exquisite," Victor whispered. He stepped to her and pulled the tiny thong down over her hips and watched as it fell to the floor.

"Tell me Claire, are you here to fuck?" Victor asked.

An old tactic, Victor, she thought to herself. She saw exactly what was going on. Victor had brought the two men along to intimidate her, to frighten her and to once again have her break down in tears and run. This was an obvious move on Victor's part that was not going to work this time, she reassured herself.

"Is somebody going to fuck me, or what?" she said and slowly walked over to the thick marble table and leaned back against it. Her bare ass cheeks pressed back against the cool edge to the stone tabletop as she began to spread her legs. She slowly opened her legs, exposing her crotch to Victor and the other two men, who had now stepped in closely behind Victor.

"Which man would you like?" Victor asked.

She paused, at a complete loss from this unexpected and unprecedented question.

"I see. Never mind. Allow me. Just lie back," Victor said. "Why don't you simply show us what you want."

Again, she knew Victor was pushing her to turn and run. Now, hesitant for the first time that night, Claire momentarily paused, then sat on the edge of the polished black marble tabletop and timidly eased her long legs a little apart. As she lowered herself back onto the table, her large breasts stood firmly upward, as the cold stone table took her breath for a second.

"Gentlemen, please," Victor said.

The two men moved quickly over to Claire and took hold of her ankles. Gently, they pulled her legs slightly wider apart and then back towards her head. They moved next to the table, holding her spread open, her legs now splayed apart, an obscene erotic display the men obviously enjoyed. As she lay there, her legs held wide apart, she noticed that the two men had both unzipped their pants and both now had their large cocks sticking out from the front of their pants, firm and quite rigid. Then the most unexpected thing happened. Victor leaned forward and slowly pressed his mouth onto her open and exposed cunt. Slowly, he began to lick her tight vaginal lips, swiping gently up and down on her soft outer lips.