Beth's Awaening

Chapter One; Beth Makes a Discovery

Now and then I awake in the night, scarcely able to believe my good fortune. I'm going to share with you how I, Elizabeth, Beth, for short, blundered into an alternate universe, and discovered the ongoing amazement my life has become.

I've always considered myself an average middle-class housewife and mother. I met my husband of eleven-plus years, Rick, when we were in college. We dated and eventually did the "beast with two-backs" a few times before Rick proposed. He definitely rang my chimes and I didn't hesitate to accept. So two weeks after Rick graduated with a shiny new degree in Computer Science, we were married.

Since that magic moment, we've spent years doing our married thing, plodding on, watching our friends and neighbor's marriages go up in smoke, congratulating one another on the quality of our relationship.

We were living the middle-class, good-life--two kids, a boy and a girl, and a nice house in the suburbs. My husband had his work and was successfully climbing the corporate ladder, the kids were both doing well in school, and me--I was dying inside.

Every one of my days was a carbon copy of the one before--running errands, marketing, fixing meals. I was busy, but bored and unhappy. Rick and I never argued, we didn't fight, we carefully avoided talking about us. What we did talk about were well-worn subjects--the bills, the kids, and, in general, anything but our relationship. Something was very wrong and whatever that something was, it was killing our marriage. I couldn't put my finger on the trouble, but it was splitting us apart, isolating us one from the other.

I recalled the excitement we had shared in the early years; Rick getting a good job, our first house, my pregnancies, and wondered where it had gone. What currently passed for excitement in my life was chauffering the kids to soccer, skating, school, and whatever. All boring, and what was worse, my imaginary crystal ball couldn't show me anything fresh and new in my future.

Even our sex life, once a source of delight, had become routine--same day, same position--just another chore. I suspected that the same malaise was affecting Rick. He was starting to miss our regular get-togethers, always with a good excuse, but I had my suspicions. Was he getting a little on the side?

Now that the kids were older, I toyed with the idea of going back to school or finding a job, but Rick was not in favor of me working. Not having a degree, any job I could get would barely cover childcare and I was easily two years away from finishing my degree in Psychology. We had plenty of money, he told me, and said that spending my time nurturing the kids was more important than extra cash.

So, my life just limped along until the fateful morning when I made the discovery, the smoking gun, the reason why my husband had lost interest in sex.

Rick returned home from a business trip late on a Thursday night. I hate doing laundry, but I've compromised with myself and make Friday my once-a-week laundry morning.

After he went to work, I decided that as long as I was doing the wash, I'd do it all and unpacked his suitcase. What fell out of his dirty clothes bag nearly gave me a heart attack. I sat down on the bed, took a deep breath and struggled to regain my composure.

Shock quickly gave way to feelings of rage and betrayal. Most of all, a burning desire to get even exploded within me like a hand grenade.

That dirty son-of-a-bitch, I said to myself, holding up the incriminating, black, thong panty. About a size three, I guessed; I wear a five. My cheating shithead of a husband had bagged some skinny-hipped, young stuff. I considered sniffing to see if the damned thing reeked of semen, but resisted the urge. It had been worn though and, more importantly-- what the hell was it doing in my husband's laundry?

I cried while I did the wash. After drying and folding everything, I arranged the guilty panty prominently on top of the pile of Rick's clothes and placed it on his side of the bed. I wondered how my shit-heel husband would try to lie his way out of his pantygate.

More than eleven years of my life I had devoted to being a helluva faithful wife and dedicated soccer mom. Now, that fucking panty had fallen out of my husband's overnight bag and made all those years a big lie. Was betrayal to be my reward for being virtuous? No way!

I sat down, drank a cup of coffee and considered my options. I could confront Rick when he came home from work or I could be somewhere else and maybe cool off a bit before I faced him.

I tend to choose avoidance rather than confrontation having learned early on that Rick is a way better talker than I am and is very good at using his brand of logic to disarm and confuse me. I needed time to think, so I packed my overnight bag.

In retrospect, if I had decided on a face-to-face with, him this would be a far different story--essentially the same old tale I had lived for eleven years and not worth telling, but it didn't happen that way.

The moment I found myself picking out sexy undies and packing my favorite dress, a little, black, cocktail item, I knew what I was going to do. This time would be different--no BS, no talk--I was going to get even.

Pulling on fresh slacks and a blouse, I carried my bag and dress out to the car, then I called my sister, Mary Ann, who lives on the other side of town. All I told her was that I was having a little personal crisis and needed to be alone for a bit. She agreed to keep the kids. I couldn't sit still, so I cleaned house until they got home from school, then I helped them pack their things for an overnight and we headed for Mary Ann's. The kids were curious, but not overly pushy as their aunt loves to spoil them rotten and they adore her.

I dropped them off and told my sister I'd be in touch. She just smiled and nodded. What a great girl.

I headed across town and got myself a very nice room with a king-sized bed at the Hilton. I called down and they were able to take me at the salon. I spent the next couple of hours getting a major overhaul.

After that I returned to my room and just luxuriated in being alone. I felt unexpectedly powerful. I had taken charge of my life and, for the moment at least, I wasn't a wife, I wasn't a mother. I was Elizabeth. I contemplated the possibilities offered by my new-found freedom and when I imagined a revenge scenario, rather than feeling guilty, I discovered little tendrils of desire growing within me.

By now, it was dinner time and I hadn't eaten all day. I was ravenous so I ordered from room service. A tossed salad, a petite sirloin with mushroom sauce, and a baked potato washed down with a small bottle of Merlot dealt handsomely with at least some of my physical needs. It was time to address the others.

I took off all my clothes and stood in front of the full-length mirrors on the closet doors, surveying my assets. The salon technicians had really done a superb job. The hairdresser had managed to make my housewife hairdo into a flattering, dark-blonde, pageboy that curled attractively next to my cheeks. My finger and toenails were painted a wicked scarlet.

What my eyes told me was that my body wasn't perfect, but it was definitely acceptable. My breasts sagged a bit more than when I was twenty--a couple of kids will do that. However, there was no doubt they were fuller and that was a good thing.

I turned to inspect my butt and liked what I saw. All that Stair Master crap had paid off. My ass was still nice and tight, no cellulite to be seen. I had a few stretch marks on my abdomen, but they weren't obvious. The overall package was still quite presentable.

I made my decision. I was ready to have some fun and get even with Rick. I'd step out tonight and make a present of myself to some lucky guy. Birth control was no problem as my tubes were tied after number two. STD's were of some concern, but I'd pick up some condoms and I'd also pick up a respectable man. In my present frame of mind, if I did catch the clap, I'd positively enjoy giving it to Rick.

I put on my very own size-five thong, a sexy little matching, push-up bra that really accentuated my cleavage, black thigh-highs, and last, that form-fitting, shiny-black, cocktail dress.

A sexy pair of Manolo Blahnik stiletto heels that I'd bought at the hotel boutique just that afternoon, the most expensive shoes I'd ever had on my feet, completed my ensemble. A little lipstick, a touch of makeup, some perfume, and I was ready for adventure.

I'm making this all sound pretty much matter-of-fact, but it wasn't. The truth of the matter is that I was nervous as hell. I had that same queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach I get when I step into a roller coaster car to begin that long steep climb to what may turn out to be the ride of a lifetime or conversely--simply an opportunity to heave my guts out.

I stopped by the convenience store and made my condom purchase--another concrete step along the path to my revenge scenario. The salesgirl gave me a knowing smirk as I paid for the rubbers with my credit card not caring if Rick saw them on the statement.

I walked across the lobby and into the cocktail lounge. Okay, maybe I strutted just a little as I crossed the attractive room all decorated in shades of peach and mauve. Two couples were out on the tiny floor, dancing to music provided by a talented, black musician, who was playing one of those trick pianos with a built-in rhythm section.

I headed toward a convenient stool at the bar. Two men were seated several places away and I was pleased when they checked me out with obvious interest. I gave the room a quick once over; men outnumbered women about two to one. I remembered having seen something on the reader board in the lobby about a convention when I checked in. That might explain why the odds were so favorable.

Anyway, I slid my butt onto the stool remembering that old warning about not turning to face the room unless you want to be mistaken for a hooker. I was prepared to do that as a last resort if I didn't attract a man, but I wasn't too worried.

I ordered a glass of Chardonnay, took a sip, and my heart skipped a beat. Shit, I was still wearing my wedding and engagement rings. Quickly, I justified my little oversight. I wasn't setting out to fool anyone. I'd make sure any man who hooked up with me knew what he was getting--an angry housewife.

And speaking of hooking up, my presence had sparked a decided upturn of interest on the part of the male patrons. I took another sip of wine, watched the room in the mirror behind the bar, and realized that I was the only unattached female in the place. In quick succession, a second glass of Chardonnay appeared at my elbow followed closely by one of the men at the bar who asked if I would like to dance.

Well, I did like to and, boy, did I dance. Man after man, probably a dozen or more danced with me. Feeling like a princess, I danced slow ones and fast ones. I couldn't remember the last time Rick and I had been dancing. As the evening wore on, that first man, who I learned was Dan from Boston along with his friend Jack from Providence, moved me to a booth, claiming more and more of my time until I was dancing with the two of them exclusively.

These charming and very attractive men worked for a company named Huelit Pickford, or something like that, and were here for a convention. By this time, I had danced several slow dances with each of them and had been favorably impressed with the caliber of their desire as they pressed themselves against my belly.

It was obviously time for me to make my choice and I was leaning toward Dan. He was the taller of the two with nice broad shoulders and a cute butt. But at the same time, Jack had special qualities--such a nice smile and an infectious laugh. How could I choose? I didn't want to disappoint either of them.

So I didn't. Due in no small part to the endless glasses of wine I had consumed, I found myself saying, "Why don't all three of us go back to my room and get comfortable."

After a moment of stunned silence, I swear I was as surprised as they were when I realized what I'd done. I'd just invited, not one, but two men to my room. Dan and Jack exchanged smiles, looked at me, and both spoke at the same time. The gist being that they could hardly wait. To be honest, upon reconsidering my outrageous proposition, neither could I. I couldn't remember when I had felt so lusty. A well of desire deep in my abdomen overflowed, sending ripples of sensation to my breasts and my brain. My two soon-to-be lovers were the most desirable men who had ever touched me and heaven knows I was eager to have them touch me all over.

One of the guys signed the bar bill and without wasting any more time they followed me back to my room. Knowing that they were watching put a little extra wiggle in my walk.

"God, just look at that cute, little ass!" Dan said. "Did we get lucky or what?"

As I put my card key in the slot, hands touched my butt. "Shit, Dan. She feels as good as she looks."

When we were in the room, Jack locked the door, but not before he put out the "Do Not Disturb" sign. This was it--my moment to feel guilt, to back out, or whatever. Guilt failed to rear its head, but lust was near at hand, and I wasn't going to pass up this incredible opportunity.

"For the record, you appear to be a married lady," Dan said, taking me in his arms. "Is there a story here?"

"Oh, yeah. There's a story all right. My husband cheated on me and I'm out to get even."

"We're going to be your perfect recipe for a pay back," Dan said. "A double helping of revenge that will be twice as sweet."

"How are we going to go about this?" I asked, my heart shifting into overdrive. "It appears I have an extra man to take care of and I don't know where to begin."

"Jack and I've shared girls a time or two so we have a little experience along these lines. As sexy as you are, I predict we're going to enjoy a delightful threesome." Dan put his hands on my butt and we kissed for the first time. When our mouths opened to each other, I could taste the flavor of the red wine he had been drinking, and I was instantly intoxicated with him.

Dan's hard-on snuggled against my tummy, a promise of delights to follow. I ascended to a new height of excitement when Jack's hands cupped my breasts from behind, his erection fitting snugly in the crack of my ass as he kissed my neck and squeezed my tits. We stayed like that for several minutes, me sandwiched between two obviously, excited men who continued kissing and caressing me. It was wonderful, but I wanted more and I wanted it now.

"God, lovers. Let's get naked," I said. "I want to feel skin against me."

Jack unzipped my dress and Dan eased it off my shoulders, slipping it over my hips, holding it so I could step out of it. I noticed that he didn't just drop it on the floor, but took a moment to drape it over the back of a chair. What a nice gesture, I thought. This guy is a real gentleman. My train of thought was refocussed on more lecherous details when Jack unclipped my bra and Dan slid it off my arms. Shivering in anticipation, I stood still while they both slipped my thong over my hips, following its progress down my legs with little kisses. Naked now except for shoes and thigh-highs, I stepped out of my shoes.

"God, Dan. Just look at her. She's absolutely gorgeous. Have we died and gone to heaven?"

Dan laughed. "I doubt that, but there's no getting around the fact that our beautiful Beth is one delightful package. The heavenly part is that she's anxious to share her sweet ass with us," Jack said, kissing my butt.

"I'll show you how eager I am," I said, pirouetting, using a move I remembered from when I was a cheerleader in high school, then leaned forward and slapped my own butt for emphasis. "Hurry up and get naked so you can sample some of this."

My guys exchanged glances and smiled at me as they took off their shirts.

I fell to my knees and tackled Dan's belt and zipper. Jack fondled my tits while I pulled down Dan's pants. When I got his boxers down, I discovered my reward, an absolutely spectacular hard-on. I looked up at him and smiled, then took his penis in my hand and kissed the swollen head of an organ that was easily half again as big as my husband's. His sharp intake of breath and the way his hips thrust forward left little doubt that he liked my attention.

"Hold that thought, lover," I said. "I'll be right back after I get your buddy naked." I turned to Jack and smiled.

"Beth, you're an unexpected delight," he said, removing his shirt.

"I'm the one who's ready to be delighted, lover," I said, attacking his belt buckle. A moment later another throbbing cock was in my hand. Perhaps not as long as Dan's, but it was thick and hard. I kissed and licked it, enjoying his intake of breath as my tongue touched the head of his organ. A second penis, this one attached to a bare-naked Dan, demanded my attention. I shifted to him, happily giving him head while Jack finished stripping.

Things got somewhat crazy then what with all three of us writhing around on my king-sized bed, kissing and licking and sucking. I totally forgot about the condoms and totally lost track of time and totally didn't care. My world was a blur of cocks in my mouth and cocks in my pussy surrounded by the delicious sounds, smells, and tastes of sex.

Special moments stand out clearly, like when I was on my knees on the bed with Jack fucking me from behind while I blew Dan. They etched that moment in my memory by trading places and carrying me to one delicious climax after another.

I discovered that riding Dan was a total turn-on. I was in control and could take his big hard-on as deep within me as it would reach, finding places inside myself that a cock had never before touched. I worked my pussy on that big pole until my lover came and when he did I joined in, enjoying the shrieking climax that exploded within me.

We three screwed in every position I'd ever heard of and I achieved a state of excitement I'd never before experienced. I honestly believe I had a nearly constant climax from the time the two of them first started fucking me until we all collapsed in exhaustion.

Approaching the finale of that first marathon of orgasms, Jack rode me in the missionary position. I held his ass cheeks urging him to bury his marvelous tool ever deeper in me. He whispered that he liked to have his lover's tongue dart into his mouth in the same rhythm he was using to fuck her. I tried that and discovered that I liked it too, so I fucked his mouth with my tongue while he fucked my pussy with his cock.

I was still holding his ass cheeks when they tightened and then flexed as he ejaculated in me. His climax carried me with him and I held him close against my crotch revelling in the sensations flooding my groin.

"That was one spectacular fuck, Beth," he said, murmuring in my ear. "I hope it was special for you too."

"It was special all right. You and your sexy friend have given me more climaxes in one night than I've had in the entire past decade." We kissed and cuddled a bit before he rolled off my hips.

I couldn't believe it when Dan announced, "My turn," and climbed between my thighs. Only minutes before, he'd fucked my brains out and then came in me, but his big erection was proof, this guy had some remarkable powers of recuperation. He entered my come-filled pussy and kissed me, saying, "Watching Jack fuck you really turned me on. I'm going to enjoy getting sloppy seconds on a lady as hot as you."

"Technically, what you're about to get is sloppy thirds," I said, returning his kiss.

When he was completely in me, his extra-sized prick reached that almost virgin territory inside me he'd just discovered and for me the result was yet another unbelievably intense climax. I had been coming constantly for at least an hour, but this one was special. I hoped the soundproofing was good between rooms as we both made a lot of noise. I wailed and moaned and Dan grunted and growled as he filled my pussy with another dose of come.