Brenda catches her husband with a prostitute. She's upset, drinks too much wine, and sends a selfie of her bare breasts to her step-son. The photo triggers her dirty revenge. ~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~ I looked at Mick, forcing myself to confront his stare. Giving it up, I sighed and muttered, "I'm sorry. Please don't show anyone--" Then I shut up. I knew I wouldn't be able to influence the outcome. Mick was Mick; his father's son. He would do what he wanted and I couldn't stop him. "Brenda," Mick said, like he was disappointed in me. In a strange role-reversal, Mick was now the parent, the father saddened by the daughter's irresponsible actions. "What's this?" he asked, holding the phone so I could see the screen. Confronted by my own stupidity, I felt the blush deepen. I had no answers. All I could do was stare at the photo, head swivelling slowly side-to-side. I was about to mutter another apology, to beg Mick to delete the image, but, with leaden despair sinking into the pit of my stomach, I saw a figure at the door. "Oh God," I groaned when Jeff walked in. I gaped at Jeff before looking at Mick. "You showed him?" I breathed.
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Copyright © 2018 by Tia Lascivo
All Characters are 18 and Over
I’m Brenda. I’m forty-eight. Married. I have two stepsons, no children of my own. It’s a good life in an affluent area: detached house; six bedrooms; driveway and gates to the front; garden enclosed by sturdy wooden fencing and trees. I drive a BMW X5, which is far more car than I really need, but I like it. I work part-time as a volunteer in a charity shop while Robert, my husband, owns and runs a small business involved in manufacturing components for computers. Sounds dull, but the financial rewards have been staggering. The boys, Jeff and Mick are both in their early twenties. Jeff goes to university, he’s studying English and Philosophy. He’s very bright. Mick is older than Jeff by a year. He’s twenty-four. Mick is shadowing his dad in the business. We’re a normal family, the same as most. We have our-ups and-downs. The usual minor disagreements and squabbles. Robert and I argue about holidays – he never wants to take them. Robert is always working. I tell him to slow down, to let Mick take over some of the small stuff, but Robert is a driven man. He needs to be the top-dog. The Alpha male. Robert must excel. If he doesn’t, he thinks he’s failed. Mick is like Robert. He’s competitive, hates to lose. He poses, shows-off, brags and boasts while Jeff, who also has the same drive to succeed is quieter, more cerebral and not so brash. Jeff’s ambitions are along academic lines.
Sex with Robert has always been robust. He likes to dominate me, to use his size and personality. He’s not abusive. Robert doesn’t force me to do anything against my will, but, luckily for both of us, I’m very open-minded and willing to experiment. Robert and I have done the role-play scenes; used toys and costumes – and I’ve loved it. We even enjoyed an impromptu and supremely arousing adventure in Greece involving a Russian couple we met.
She was gorgeous, lithe and petite with the body of a gymnast compared to my big boobs and fleshy figure. The man looked like he belonged in the mafia: shaved head, huge shoulders and a laugh to match. Tattoos, and a cock like a fire-hose as I’d find out. It started as a male-dominated contest between Yuri and Robert. Alcohol and testosterone. We were on the patio of the villa, late evening, drinks inside us. Yuri made a comment about my breasts, complimentary as he compared me to Gina. God, I was shaking so much when I realised how the evening might end up. Excited, nervous, and terrified, I sucked my husband’s cock while Gina worked at her husband’s enormous dick. The lovely blonde slurped at Yuri until, with just a glance from her, the suggestion in her expression, Gina and I, without a word passing between any of us, swapped men. We went at it right there in the open air, both of us glomming and sucking, my lips stretched impossibly tight around that big Russian bear.
We were fucking not long after, and I can clearly recall sitting on Yuri in a cowgirl position, his fingers splaying the cheeks of my arse as I eased down over his cock, his wife in doggy with Robert, my husband already robustly fucking at her.
The fun lasted the five remaining days of the holiday. Causal sex whenever any of us was in the mood – which for me was pretty much constant. I was so excited to have two available men I was near insatiable. I always wanted the sex. Yuri and my husband shagged me rotten. It was wonderful. I felt young and daring, beautiful and reckless. They had me together, both men competing in what was for me a marvellous time of sexual freedom, a time full of joy and filthy, nasty sex. I watched them with Gina, too, the blonde contorting into some very interesting positions so they could get their dicks inside her. I watched, horny and a little bit jealous, fascinated by the way the diminutive blonde bent and folded and took those cocks into her body. It was like car-crash TV seeing Yuri’s huge girth stretching his wife. The big cock was about the same thickness as her forearm, and nearly as long. It amazed me to watch it, the sight just about the single most erotic vision I’d ever encountered. The look on Gina’s face when Yuri fucked her with vigour and gusto made me hot for sex. She groaned and moaned, face all slack with the pleasure. I knew how it felt, too. I’d fucked with that cock in vehement style. God, did that man like to use pussy. He was like a machine, muscled up and apparently insatiable. It was also incredibly sexy to watch my husband with Gina, even though I felt the cuprous, corrosive jealousy inside me when I saw her pleasure at fucking my husband. Because Robert wasn’t as big as her husband, Gina could really let go and shag with abandon, Robert’s size, while quite a lump, not being as brutal as Yuri.
We were couples and threes, a foursome on occasion, with Gina and I teasing the boys by lezzing it up. Not that I’m into girls at all. I like cock, my husband inside me, sometimes fucking and sometimes loving, but Gina was gorgeous. And the men certainly liked it.
So, why, with this almost perfect life, the money, the house, success, a wife who’s up for just about anything, does my husband go and cheat on me with a prostitute?
Robert pursued me. He made it his goal to have me. It’s what he does. He gets obsessed by competing and winning and, back when we first me, he was desperate to stick his dick into my pussy.
I played it hard to get at first. Truth is I was just as randy as him but understood him on an instinctual level. Somehow I knew if I gave it up too soon, if I made it too easy it would dampen his fire. I was interested in Robert from the start. I loved his forceful style, the way Robert took control and expected me to go along with whatever choice he’d made.
The first time I opened my legs and let him fuck me we were in his car. A roomy Mercedes with plenty of space in the back. I cranked his dick to get him worked up, then begged him to lick me until I just about squirted lady-cum all over the leather upholstery. I’d taken great care to prepare for what I knew was going to be the night I let Robert have what he wanted. My legs were smooth, body lightly tanned from a couple of sessions under the lamp in the spa. My vulva was bald, a style I knew Robert preferred, boobs supported by a quarter-cup bra, cleavage a devastating crease for Robert’s eyes to fall into. It was no secret that Robert has a thing for women with some size to their boobs, so I showcased my tits in a key-hole dress that clung to me in all the right places.
Robert went wild for sucking my pussy. He licked and lapped and paid attention to my clit. He used two fingers inside me, finding where I liked it best before rubbing me there. I squealed and grunted, working up to a climax before I got onto my knees and begged him to fuck me.
“No,” Robert said when I suggested a condom. “Bareback,” he added, nudging the dome at my body.
“All right,” I’d said, gasping and horny. “But don’t come inside me.”
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