Love and Betrayal Ch. 17

Becci suffered two miscarriages before she gave birth to their first child, Ava. A sense of loss and guilt still lingered with her, while childcare curtailed her freedom. Mischievous breaks in foreign cities and games played at home were just fond memories now.

She felt overwhelmed by the responsibility of being a new mum and anxious about doing anything wrong. Under pressure from a health visitor, she reluctantly joined a baby group. Most of the other mums had older children, and they seemed to simply and naturally take everything in their stride. A few reached out to her and invited her to coffee mornings, but she ended up listening awkwardly as the others competed to boast about their child's latest triumph. Becci felt like a failure and retreated.

Although she was clearly struggling, Paul left the housework and virtually all childcare to her, particularly when Ava woke during the night. She defended him to friends and family; he was working whilst she was at home. Yet she sometimes felt so alone it was as if she was a single parent and she was only barely holding it together.

Real and perceived failings weighed heavily on her, whilst chronic sleep deprivation left her feeling tired and irritable. She struggled to concentrate and frequently lost the thread in conversation. She tolerated and laughed off jokes about her 'baby brain' from others, but when Paul joined in it hurt her deeply. Just when she most needed him to defend her, to show everyone that he understood and loved her, he mocked her to win a few cruel laughs.

Sex had largely become little more than functional. She let him have his pleasure, but she was usually too tired to do any more than just lie there. The romance and passion they once freely enjoyed together were gone. Every night that he woke her because Ava was crying and every jibe made at her expense fed a quiet, growing sense of resentment. There had been a few times when she'd briefly considered leaving him.

She felt equally insecure about her physical appearance. He used to love her belly button, a little "innie", but it had popped out during her third trimester and never went fully back in. To her it looked a deflated balloon. Although she had worked hard to keep her weight under control during her pregnancy and was back down to 110 lbs, her thighs sagged a little when she lay on her side. Dieting and exercise seemed to make little difference. Being desirable had always been so important to her; it was part of her identity and something else that she felt she'd lost.

Some years later at a party, Paul stopped her in her tracks as he casually boasted to friends about how quickly she'd returned to her pre-pregnancy weight, had virtually no stretch marks and perfect skin without a trace of cellulite. Perhaps encouraged by her reaction and too much wine, he leaned forward and excitedly continued, "And just look at her tits, they're still as perky as the day we met! But that's nothing compared to her devotion to her Kegel balls, I mean, well, it's like a slippery vice!" Becci blushed and slapped his leg, but even so she wished he had said this before, when she most needed to hear it.

Returning to Ava's infancy, she was emotionally at her lowest point, her confidence and self-worth shattered. An unexpected RSVP invitation to a hen weekend in Berlin arrived by post, followed by excited messages and calls. Although she had been close to the bride a few years back, they had drifted apart. She also hadn't been away on her own for over two years; her once famous joy-de-vie had been replaced by insecurity and self-doubt.

She decided to politely decline when Paul intervened to persuade her to go, "Don't be ridiculous, you're still gorgeous! Besides that's not the point, you're not competing with them."

Becci managed a half-smile, taking this as a partial compliment with a thinly veiled criticism. It was perhaps a reflection of how she saw herself rather than any true intent on his part, but she still translated 'not competing' into 'couldn't compete'.

Paul continued, "It would be good for you to have a break. If nothing else you could ditch the hens and slip back to the hotel for a good night's sleep." That was tempting, but the real clincher was that her parents were also going to be away that weekend and he would have to look after Ava by himself. Secretly, she hoped that he would struggle to cope and finally appreciate that it wasn't easy.

The following weekend he took her shopping and bought her an expensive little black Dolce and Gabbana dress in a sale, with heels to match. Normally this would have been well beyond their means and still cost more than anything else she owned. The dress clung to her body, yet even in her eyes it emphasised her best features. She had to accept that she looked good; almost like her former self.

During long afternoons while Ava slept she sometimes met her own needs by venturing online to read erotic short stories, something she found much more arousing than crude images and videos. Sitting alone she would start by stoking the side of her breast and inner thighs as she read, and finish quietly convulsing on one of her toys. As the date approached her mind wandered back to memories of previous hen parties. Soon those memories were matched and even bettered by fantasies.

She packed her bags alone. Her heart was racing as she placed her Aubade 1/4 cup lace bra, thong and suspenders in her case, followed by a second little bra and thong set. She pretended to herself that she just wanted to look good. Her new dress and two others she had decided to take were quite tight and she wanted to avoid a panty line. It wasn't that she intended anything to happen. Yet, just before her taxi was due, she quickly slipped her crimson satin and lace bustier into her case.

As she checked into the hotel with the other hens, their conversation was already racy. After a brief interlude to freshen up, they started with cocktails in the hotel bar. Becci was draped in a baby pink sash that simply read, 'try a bridesmaid'. It stood out against her short backless black dress, finished in heels with leather ankle straps hinting at restraints. A perfect combination of slutty, classy and kinky.

She brushed aside the suggestion that a man was staring at her, then looked over desperately hoping that it was true, that she was still desirable even in present company. She instantly blushed as she caught his eye, covering her face and giggling like an immature schoolgirl. Jenny, one of the more flirtatious hens, wondered over to share their plans for the evening with him and his friends, and returned having secured another round of drinks for the girls.

Later in a club Becci caught her breath as the men walked in, with him leading the pack. He didn't take his eyes off her as he confidently strode towards her and introduced himself as Dave. As the night progressed his attention was entirely focused on her. He flattered her eyes, lips, and figure, particularly in the sexy little number she was wearing. He couldn't have missed her wedding and engagement rings, but didn't mention them.

Drinks flowed and her insecurities and inhibitions gradually faded. He soon asked her to dance, "Just a little harmless fun." Dave held her close, their bodies touching, and inhaled her scent. Jesus, why did that make her tingle? She felt his hot breath on her ear and his moist lips on her neck as his strong hands ran down her bare back and over her buttocks, pressing her against him.

He was in good shape and his body felt so warm and firm as he held her against him. His muscles were well defined and toned without being exaggerated. During the first dance, she slipped her upper thigh between his legs and instantly smiled and blushed as she felt the outline of his penis. This was a move she had perfected in college; at first it felt substantial though spongy, but it rapidly became rigid.

Soon he had an impressive erection rubbing against her as they moved together on the dance floor. In that moment she knew that he really did want her,; it had been so long since she felt wanted as a woman. Dave's attention rekindled her own sexual desires and fulfilled a supressed but desperate need for some form of validation. Her thoughts ran wild. She wanted him to pin her down, splay her legs open and simply thrust his cock inside her. To fuck her like a wild animal. Strangely, she perhaps most wanted to see the pleasure her body would give him.

Becci looked longingly at him, but guilt overcame her. She hesitated, then broke away and took a step back, "I, I can't. I'm married you see, with a one-year old daughter." She blurted out everything Paul had done for her; she exaggerated his efforts to rebuild her confidence with kind words, and truthfully described how he'd bought her the ridiculously expensive dress and heels she was wearing.

Almost tearfully, she condemned herself, "And here I am using everything he has done for me to flirt with you, with another man, God forbid, perhaps more than flirt." She meant those last words, and left to find the girls shaking.

Shortly later, one of Dave's friends disappeared with Jenny. She had a long-term boyfriend at home, yet blatantly left with a wink and, "What happens in Vegas girls!" The rest clinked their glasses with her to seal the pact. Becci felt conflicted and jealous, and betrayed her thoughts as she whispered, "Just imagine what she is going to let him do to her.... imagine them fucking!" There was a moment's silence, before she finished with, "Such a little slut!"

There is something more illicit about hen weekends held abroad rather than at home; indiscretions and infidelities are much more common. Most of the other girls excused Jenny's behaviour, almost as if there simply wasn't an issue. It seemed she had a free pass from present company at least to do as she pleased with whoever she wanted.

Dave found Becci again much later, back in the residents bar. Somewhat more inebriated, she smiled coyly at his renewed attention. She still couldn't believe that he would want to choose her, or be so persistent in chasing that prize. His compliments were easy to listen to, and as he spoke she let his hands linger on her arm and shoulder, glancing her breast as they slipped down her body to her legs.

She realised that she was smiling at him, while he caressed her knees, gently slipping his hand up towards her inner thigh, just under the hem of her dress. Her heart skipped a beat when he leaned forward to discretely ask for her room number and whispered, "If you head up to bed I'll follow in twenty minutes, no one will know, I promise."

Becci could have stopped then, but she hadn't felt so alive in years and she was afraid that she might never have the same opportunity again. Paul had failed to support her when she needed him the most. Perhaps she deserved this, just this once. She whispered, "614," then openly pushed him away, just as she had done in the club and rejoined the girls.

Becci soon feigned exhaustion and left. Her heart was pounding before she even reached the elevators, and almost beating out of her chest as stripped to quickly freshened up in her room, giving particular attention to her intimate areas.

Standing naked, she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She refastened her suspender belt and rolled a stocking to slip her foot in, toes pointed, stretching the silk over her calf and up her leg to fix it in place. As she pulled the other stocking up, she ran her hands seductively over her slender leg to smooth the fine material. She realised that it was as if she was putting on a show, except no one was there to watch.

Her thoughts strayed back to better times when she did similar things to get Paul excited before going out for a romantic evening. She felt momentarily empty and ashamed, almost as if she'd lost a part of herself. She hesitated as she looked at her reflection, her expression transiently uncertain and forlorn, then quickly pulled her dress on. She returned to her bedroom clutching her delicate French lace thong and bra; they were so pretty and sensual. Shamefully, she placed them in clear view. Something to tease and entice.

Becci was trembling, uncertain whether she should go through with this and desperately worried that she might be caught letting Dave into her room. She stood by her bedroom door and opened it on the first knock, pulling him in. He smiled as he spied her sash draped over a chair and lingerie on the seat. This was an open invitation and he was on her almost immediately, kissing her neck and caressing and fondling her body.

Becci hesitated briefly, "Oh please, this is wrong, we mustn't." She lied in desperation that she'd never been unfaithful, but in that moment her guilt was real.

If he had stopped she wouldn't have pursued him, but instead he silenced her with a passionate kiss. Through tears Becci's lips parted and his tongue entwined hers as he unzipped her dress. It fell to the floor. No fumbling; he had done this a few times before. She was naked in his arms, except for her stockings, suspenders and heels. His hands explored her body. There was no turning back now.

Within minutes he scooped her up and laid her down on the bed. She loved being lifted in his arms and the feeling of being in his control as he placed her body exactly where and how he wanted her. Dave kissed her neck, breasts and belly, before sliding her legs open and diving onto her sex. Becci gripped his head, her slight body convulsing as his tongue flicked over her clit and into her pussy.

With impressive agility he stripped while performing the most incredible cunnilingus on her. Soon naked, he slipped two fingers inside her warm, moist vagina and looked up with a knowing smile. He had found the two short strings dangling from her cervix; she had a coil inserted after giving birth as she didn't want to take the pill whilst breastfeeding.

In a moment of almost complete betrayal and anticipation, she instantly knew that he wanted to fuck her bareback and she decided to let him. Part of her almost wished that what followed had been a single, soulless, mechanical fuck. That was all she deserved, and perhaps it would have taught her a lesson. The truth could not have been more different.

Dave hoisted her ankles over his shoulders and ran his hands down along her legs towards her pussy. His eyes were burning into her, "You know you were the most beautiful and desirable woman there tonight.... Your skin is so soft....." Becci was easily flattered by his words and needed this reassurance.

On the physical side, her eyes were drawn to his muscular physique and, shamefully, his erect penis. Men had always wanted to fuck her before, but it had been so long since she had even an innocent flirtation. She felt so neglected and abandoned by Paul, despite his recent generosity, and had lost so much confidence in herself. That only intensified how she felt in this moment, the feeling of being truly wanted once again.

Staring hungrily back and forth between his groin and his eyes, she took his penis in her hands. It felt hard and warm; both forbidden and inviting. As she pulled his foreskin back and forth over his swollen glans, a few glistening beads of precum oozed from the tip, coating her fingers and providing generous lubrication. The silky fluid hung in threads between her fingers as she brought it to her lips, while staring up at him like a wanton harlot.

She slowly and longingly inhaled his scent and licked a stray strand of his precum with the tip of her tongue. Her breasts were heaving with each breath as she whispered, "Hmm, I love how you taste..... intoxicating!" Becci knew this excited men, and she wanted to excite him more than anything else.

Dave was poised over her, watching her intently as she returned to his generous erect penis. She felt her cheeks burn crimson as she took it in her hands once again and guided him to her pussy. She kept a firm hold of him and smeared his oozing precum over her clit and around her entrance. She held him there as she looked back up into his eyes, her lips parted. Her heart was racing as she finally felt him press firmly into her, his hard, bare cock sliding through her slippery fingers, stretching and filling her.

Oh, the moment he penetrated her! An abhorrent violation of her marriage vows and yet she felt the most intense pleasure and longing. More than that, she felt wanted, more so than she had done in years. This instant was captured in her mind forever, and she would return to it many, many times.

Dave grasped her breasts to secure her as he started to fuck her. Her pussy clamped around him as she felt his cock slip through her fingers into her. In turn, he slid his hand underneath hers and onto her clit, rocking the little hood back and forth over her pink bud in unison with each thrust. An orgasm began to build, her toes curled and muscles tensed. Like a little sex-starved slut, Becci reached back to grab his buttocks and hooked both her legs around his waist to slam him into her, "Fuck me, ff-fuck me, ha-harder, ah...hah...hah... Fucking.... tt-take meee...."

He broke free from her tight grasp before he came. For a second Becci was confused and frustrated; she desperately wanted him inside her, just pounding the life out of her. In a broken, high pitched plea, she begged, "Pl..... Please don't.... don't stop!"

She knew that she was just a piece of flesh to him, but in that moment that was all she wanted to be. Suddenly she felt his tongue on her clitoris and gasped! Her legs started to shake involuntarily and uncontrollably as he licked and sucked her. He edged by alternating between fucking her and eating her as waves of orgasms flowed over her.

Finally, he pounced back on top of her, pulling her hair and crushing her. Ten, maybe twelve violent thrusts followed as he continued to fuck her even as his semen was pumping into her. She imagined it spurting into her vagina and seeping into her womb to fertilise her eggs. Of course, her coil meant she couldn't get pregnant; she was nothing better than a filthy cheating slut. Becci crashed from guilt to ecstasy and back again. As he slipped from her, she reached down to stem the flow of his cum. The familiar musky smell hit her.

Dave handed her a few tissues, then simply pushed her head down towards his groin without a word. As she moved down the bed, she ran her hands over his muscular chest and back, feeling renewed desire. She looked up at him and whispered, "This is wrong." Becci hesitated for only a moment, then took him in her mouth, her tongue swirling over the head now coated in his salty cum. He tasted different to Paul; perhaps a little bitter.

It wasn't long before she felt the glans begin to swell again. Slowly she took him deeper and deeper into her mouth, her tongue protruding over her teeth and flicking wildly on the underside of his cock. She was good at this, she knew she was good at this. She was trying so very hard to please him, no even more than that, to be better than any other girl he had ever had.

Becci angled her neck and let his rigid cock pop over the back of her tongue. In a strained whisper, Dave exclaimed, "JJ...esus! FF...Fuck!"

She finally pulled free, gasping for breath, "Just remember, I can't breathe when you are in my throat."

Dave looked wide-eyed, "No girl has ever truly deep-throated me before, not like that!"

He gave her only a few seconds to gasp some oxygen into her lungs, before pulling her mouth back onto his cock. Finally, and almost choking, she pushed him away. Dave went with her motion this time and threw her onto her back, then plunged into her pussy. She succumbed, frantically grabbing his buttocks again as he repeatedly ground into her to the hilt, his pelvis smacking into hers. He withdrew as his cum was still pulsing into her, and the last few shots splashed her hand, belly and tits. She wiped herself down with tissues, pausing briefly as she noticed his cum was smeared on her wedding and engagement rings.