Fists of Repentance

The satellite radio system that came with the new SUV her and her Husband Craig had bought had been nothing short of a blessing for 33 year old Leslie Griffen. They'd decided to purchase the Land Rover six months earlier, just before she was due to deliver her third child, a daughter named Jeni that was now almost 3 months old, simply because with their third brought into the world, the family would soon outgrow any car they could find.

A devout Catholic and extremely active in her church, it took every bit of Leslie's love for humanity and adherence to God's teachings however to keep her from going crazy as she learned to navigate the beast of a vehicle through the suburban asphalt jungle of the Santa Clara, California neighborhood her family called home.

Thankfully she had found a Christian music station on the satellite radio system to play constantly when she was battling for space on the road with hundreds of others just like her, crammed into oversized 'soccer mom mobiles', shuttling their kids to and fro under the glorious California sun. Without the steady and relaxing music to remind her of everything her upbringing in the church had taught, only God knows what sort of primal witch might have been unleashed as the horrible drivers around Leslie cut her off, wouldn't allow her to merge, or worse as she shuffled around town.

That Saturday had proved to be just like most others. Leslie had just started feeling somewhat back to her normal self and had a million errands that had piled up while she recovered from her pregnancy. It was also early September so she had once again become a chauffeur for her 6 and 8 year olds boys as they went in all directions with their school functions and friends.

She had just dropped each off at separate friends' houses and was preparing to make her way to the mall to do some much needed shopping for herself and the home. Her Husband Craig had offered to spend the day at home babysitting their newborn daughter so Leslie was gonna make hay while the sun was shining. She'd told him she would probably be out for at least 3 hours, maybe 4 or 5 if the boys had been good when she picked them up, she might take them to a movie since they had been somewhat neglected attention wise with the new baby in the house.

Just as she was about to make the left hand turn into the mall's parking lot, Leslie reached into her purse to fish out the bottle of medication she needed to get re-filled for one of her sons when it dawned on her that she had left it on the kitchen counter.

"Shhhheeff," Leslie groaned, coming as close to cursing out of frustration as she could when she realized she'd have to drive all the way back home to get it.

She knew she could call her husband up and her could drive out to meet her, but that would require him loading up the baby and after all, he'd sacrificed his Saturday golf game to give her a day out of the house. It just wouldn't be right to put him through all that when she had a full tank of gas in the SUV and no deadlines to meet. In fact, Leslie's stomach was growling so much, she decided to stop for a quick lunch all by herself to just enjoy eating a meal, in peace, that someone else fixed and cleaned up after, before driving back home to get the prescription.

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The first cautionary tip-off that something might have been amiss was when Leslie made the left onto the street where she lived and saw an unfamiliar car parked in her driveway. The white Jetta looked vaguely familiar, but inside Leslie's rushed and cluttered mind she couldn't quite place it as she walked towards the house. She expected to find Craig lounging on the living room sofa when she made her way inside, or perhaps rocking their newborn daughter in the recliner, but when she swung open the unlocked storm door and stuck her head inside, all she heard was silence. Another small but unsettling wave rippled through her intestines as the lack of sound in the house permeated her senses.

"Maybe Craig's still upstairs taking a nap or getting into the shower," Leslie told herself even though she began to sense something might be wrong.

Making the short walk from the living room to the kitchen to fetch her Son's prescription, Leslie neatly tucked the bottle into her purse before turning her attention back to her eerily silent house. Wearing her soft-soled tennis shoes, Leslie's 135 pound frame barely made a sound as she brushed lightly across the floor.

Deciding to make a quick detour upstairs just to check on her 3 month old Daughter, Leslie briskly climbed the carpeted stairs and the first thing she saw when she got to the top of was her baby sleeping peacefully in her crib. Leslie stood at the edge of the crib for several seconds, admiring her sleeping child before turning to look in her bedroom for any sign of her Husband.

Just as Leslie was about to call out his name, a sliver of something she remembered when she first walked into the house a minute earlier came back to her.

"The door in the hall that goes down to the basement was ajar when you came in," Leslie reassuringly told herself. "I bet Craig's down there cleaning up his shop like he said he might today."

An invisible weight seemingly lifted off her shoulders, Leslie went to kiss her sleeping baby goodbye on the forehead before turning to walk back downstairs. Strolling towards the door that led to the basement, Leslie cracked it open a little further but an instant before she was about to lower her right foot down on the top step, a third wave of trepidation suddenly clutched her throat. Unlike the initial two that had most likely been products of a stressed and overactive imagination, this one crested squarely in each ear.

There was a muffled and difficult to hear mixture of what sounded like some sort of straining and heavy breathing coming from deep within the basement. Had Craig somehow hurt himself down there or did he have the TVon maybe while he worked?

Leslie was sure she could make out a voice but she grew cold and antsy trying to decipher it, knowing it sounded much softer than her Husband's normally gruff and circumspect tone. Standing frozen at the top of the stairs, Leslie held her breath listening to the jumbled sounds, allowing the implication of them to mix with seeing the strange car parked in the driveway and the fact that her Husband was nowhere to be found.

Again Leslie had to ask herself if it was a sound of distress coming form downstairs, but as she continued to absorb the echoes radiating from the basement, she had no choice but to accept that they were becoming more rhythmic and clear.

Leslie's desperately racked her brain, trying to figure out an alternate, and perfectly innocent explanation for what she girded herself to see when she descended the steps, but the stone cold and eternal pragmatist inside Leslie just knew. Stealth on her part wasn't at all necessary. It was clear from the unabated and intensifying sounds rising from the bowels of the basement that the people causing them had no clue there was anyone else in the house except for a sleeping baby two floors up.

Despite the dam burst of confusion, rage and pain that would soon spill from her, the act of actually walking down those dark steps and witnessing the intertwined bodies of her half naked Husband and the girl he was fucking was almost clinical. Leslie didn't scream or yell, or so much as make a sound. Instead she just stood there with morbid calm, taking in the image of a totally naked young girl straddling Craig on the old sofa they'd taken downstairs when they had bought their new living room suit.

Still concealed in the shadowy sheath of the stairwell, Leslie was free to commit every measured detail of what she was seeing to memory. Once she'd seen the girl's short blonde hair and the side profile of her trim, athletic frame, it only took Leslie a few seconds to recognize the teenage girl grinding down fiercely on top of her Husband. It was Britney Moran.

Now 19, Leslie and her Husband had met Britney and her parents soon after moving to Santa Clara, at the church they all attended. Britney couldn't have been anymore than 12 or 13 at the time and they had watched as she had grown up to be a very lovely, if not troubled, young woman.

>From her conversations with Britney's parents at church functions,

Leslie knew Britney had spent her Freshman year at UCLA, but the gossip around the congregation was that Britney had fallen victim to the same potholes many of the girls her age do, namely men and substance abuse. Leslie had heard the Britney was on academic suspension from school for a semester but she hadn't seen her anywhere around town or at church on Sundays.

Never once however did Leslie ever have an inkling that her Husband had any interest in Britney, and Leslie liked to think she had a good radar about such things. He had never so much as even mentioned her name outside of church in all the years they'd lived there.

But as Leslie stared on, it was clear from the way Craig and Britney's bodies melded and reacted to one another's that this wasn't the first time they'd ever made love. And on and on it went until the couple's furious, humping pace had caused the old sofa to bang repeatedly into the wall behind it.

The knuckles of Leslie's right hand turned white as she griped the railing, wincing from the sound of her Husband and Britney's groins slapping loudly together. Her left foot on the third step from the landing and her right on the fourth, Leslie stood there motionless and watched the way Craig's strong hands reached up and squeezed the teenage girl's firm breasts, eagerly caressing them between his fingers and palms as she incessantly drilled her cunt down on top of his jutting shaft.

"Oh Yeah..UHH..UHHH..YEAH BABY...fuck me back with that sweet wet..fucking tight pussy of your's Brit," Leslie heard her Husband's raspy voice echo through the darkened basement, his voice raising an octave each time the young girl methodically tightened the grip of her cunt around his cock. Leslie could see the fiery look of wanton joy in her Husband's eyes as he endured Britney's grinding assault on his manhood.

"You like that, huh?" Britney grinned with lurid sarcasm, angling her hips in short quick circles on top of Craig's crotch, seeming to savor every last ounce of having total control of the married, father of three.

"GOD..YEESSSS," Craig groaned shamelessly in reply, the Adam's apple bobbing continuously in his throat as he allowed himself to be overwhelmed by the 19 year old's vaginal acumen.

Craig's feet trembled and shook on the dusty carpet as Britney humped her 115 pounds down on top of him.

Leslie found herself mesmerized by the violent, yet graceful way Britney's entire body worked, all her muscles seeming to fire in unison as she ground her knees into the sofa cushions to each side of Craig, twisting her hips round and round as her torso pistoned up and down. It was almost like watching a machine made of soft flesh, gristle and bone come to life.

Taking one step further down the stairs, still holding tight to the railing with her hands, Leslie left foot brushed up against the discarded pink and white tee-shirt Britney had removed, or allowed Craig to do so for her, as they'd descended the steps. Close to it was the young girl's beige bra and as Leslie looked down she could faintly make out the tag, 36 C. Following the trail of discarded and intertwined clothing, it led straight to the sofa when the unholy coupling continued to grind as one.

Leslie couldn't help looking up at Britney and watching the way the teenager's naked breasts danced on her chest, while not much larger than Leslie's own 36 B's, they seemed so much more rounder, fuller and firmer as her own Husband anxiously kneaded them with his eager hands.

"You like my tight pussy?" Leslie heard Britney interrogate her Husband. "Tighter than your wife's aint it?"

"...Yes...," Craig's raspy reply trickled from his lips, his head now swaying side to side on the back of the sofa.

"She's never fucked you this good has you?" Britney's query was unrelenting as she clenched her vaginal muscles tighter around his buried cock to make sure to illicit a response.

"Nobody ever has," Craig gasped for air, his honesty apparent in his dazed desperation.

Keeping her right hand tight on the railing, Leslie clenched her left hand to her breasts, feeling them heave against her trembling palm as her heart pounded angrily in her chest.

"Damn right her pussy's tighter and breasts are defying gravity" Leslie's inner venom spewed under her stoic and silent surface. "I've birthed three children for you, you Sonofabitch and nursed all three too!!"

The coupling on the sofa remained undaunted and unaware of Leslie's presence, continuing to fuck ever more violently until Britney leaned forward and caressed her soft bouncing breasts against each side of Craig's face.

Leslie's tongue felt as thick as a rolled up towel as it crumpled back into her throat, yet like a passer-by sizing up the calamity of a train wreck, her eyes were focused like two pinpoint lasers watching Britney fuck her Husband.

Even though Craig's face was shielded by the way Britney had smothered him with her ample cleavage, Leslie could begin to see the tell-tale signs of her Husband's impending release. From the way his right elbow began to flail outwards, to the way each of his knees would buckle and twitch, to the rising guttural moan leaving his lungs, Leslie has heard and felt all of those same idiosyncrasies the hundreds of times they'd had sex. Once again, Leslie felt another kidney punch of indignity having to watch another woman, in this case a girl who was almost young enough to be their daughter bringing out those same reactions in her Husband.

Taken another step down the stairs, Leslie was now on a horizontal plain with the two. Britney and Craig's upper torsos were now melded together as she slowed her vaginal thrusts, from blinding quick stabs down to primal and scouring, almost methodical twists and turns with her cunt on the Craig's cock, as if she too had learned, in short order, the secret cues of the married man's impending orgasm.

Craig's rising groans filling her head, Leslie had grown so use to those sounds being associated with the tactile feel of his cock driving inside her that Leslie swore she could actually feel him inside her at that moment, despite the fact she was watching him fuck another woman right in front of her.

By now, Leslie had both feet flat on the landing staring directly at Britney grind on top of her Husband, she and Craig seeming to race towards the finish line together in what was to be a perfectly timed and mutually shared climax. Any hope that happening however was quashed when Britney shifted her head lower and began kissing Craig's neck, creating just enough of a sightline that when Craig's head rolled to the right, his eyes were opened just enough to see the blurry outline of his wife standing 15 feet away.

Having looked in those same eyes over a million times, Leslie was sure she'd seen every emotion Craig was capable of, but as his eyes fixed on her and began to freeze in their sockets, Leslie knew it was a look she'd never seen from him or any other human being in her entire life. Like seeing a child that had just done bad, as much as it hurt her to see what Craig had done, Leslie loved him and it crippled her in that instant to the marrow to see him in such a confused and helpless state.

Oblivious to it all, Britney continued humping down on Craig's crotch despite the fact that his body had grown still and his eyes had locked on his wife's icy hot stare. The only 6 inch sliver of Craig's being that hadn't frozen up after seeing Leslie was his penis, which was past the point of no return. Britney continued squeezing her pussy like a tight velvet fist around Craig's manhood until the seed that was now at a pure boil inside his balls had began it's irrepressible voyage upwards.

"AAAA..HHHHH.....Yeah Baby...just hold on for a few more seconds....that's it...yeeeaaahhhhh.....keep fucking me baby..ahhhh..keep fucking me...I'm about to cum Craig....just hold on..just hold on...," Britney's voice squealed with a youthful zeal, her cunt with a death grip all the way down to the base of the married man's penis as his heavy balls bounced warmly under her bare and grinding asscheeks.

Lost in the blindness of her own approaching release, Britney clawed her fingernails hard into Craig's scalp, holding on for dear life on top of him as the freight train of her orgasm slammed down the tracks.

"Make me cum Baby..Come on ...Make me cum..then shoot your cum deep inside me and put out that fire" Britney pleaded like a little naughty school girl into Craig's ear, still unaware his wife was there taking it all in.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH FFUUCCKKKKKKKKK..... GGAAWWWDDDDD DAAAMMMMMIIITTTTTT," she finally screamed like a sexually starved beast when she went over the edge, feeling secure in Craig's arms, and safe the knowledge from their previous rendezvous in the basement that her cries of passion wouldn't carry to any of the neighboring homes.

Just as Britney's entire body began contracting with rapid fire concussions of orgasmic release, she felt the first strand of Craig's molten hot semem shoot deep inside her pussy, followed quickly by another then another. Grabbing him tighter around the neck, Britney could feel every vein and ridge of the older man's now familiar penis as it fired inside her, but unlike every other time they'd made love, the rest of Craig felt distant, if not even there.

Pulling her head away from Craig's shoulder as the waves of her release continued to ricochet through her flesh, Britney saw Craig looking to his right. Following the path of his gaze, it wasn't long before she too saw Leslie standing there, staring a hole in them.

At that moment the trinity was complete, everyone in the basement knew what was happening. But there was a pause for all three as if no one knew quite what to do next. Britney didn't move a muscle or even utter a word, not out of fear so much as a primal and sick desire to catalogue Leslie's horrified expression to memory. Trapped under Britney's weight, her 19 year old vaginal sheath still clinging tightly to his cock as his spilled seed sloshed inside her, there was no hope for him moving at that moment either.

An unsettling frailty suddenly swept through Leslie as she stood there, unable to make a move. It was as if Leslie was the one stripped naked in that basement, not the other two. She had just waited there watching a girl half her age, the Daughter of church friend's for Godsakes, fuck her Husband right in front of her, and she couldn't do anything about it. And in Leslie's moment of her own self-recognized weakness, suddenly there was a currency shift of sorts and she could see in Britney's eyes that the young girl had somehow honed in on her vulnerability.

Feeling Craig's semen swimming inside her vagina as he sat motionless and silent below, his dick still half hard inside her, Britney inexplicably rocked her hips forward and began rotating them in slow, rhythmic and ruthless circles once again, as if to lather every nook and cranny of her cunt with his sperm, the whole time never taking her eyes off Leslie as she did it.

It takes a brazen enough woman to fuck another woman's Husband, right in the woman's very own home while she's just out running errands. Britney knew if she and Craig kept it up, eventually they'd get caught but like with many of the bad judgments she'd made over the past few years, Britney never really gave much thought to the grave potential consequences of her actions.

Actually confronted now with Craig's wife standing between her and her escape from the house, Britney should have been mortified. Perhaps it was the controlled substances in her system or something even less tangible, but she felt no fear at that moment. The way Leslie stood like an impotent statue at the foot of the stairs, Britney could have easily stood up and got dressed and never had to look back, but instead she continued to rock back and forth tauntingly on Craig's lap.