Revenge: a Quic Decision

Saturday morning. John had headed off to play golf with his brother, Joe. Again. And I was left alone. Again. I sat at the kitchen table with my coffee stewing over my plight. Only 33 years old and a golf widow. Suddenly, I noticed that John had left his cell phone at home.

Idly, I picked it up. I noticed he had one unread text message. Without even thinking, I opened the message that had been sent just this morning. Odd. As I read it, the blood drained from my face.

"Lvr, thank u 4 yesterday. Luv ur bg cock. Let's do again soon."

I grew hot with rage. The bastard was cheating on me. I found more text messages.

"J - okay 2 meet. Husband away all day."

That was yesterday. I had tried to reach John several times yesterday at the office and got his voice mail every time.

Another. Thursday.

"J - I need u. Wld luv 2 suk n fuk. Tomorrow?"

The fucking bastard. I'm sure I knew who it was. Some little tart on his sales team trying to get some good account assignments. There was a girl at a party a couple of weeks ago. Kept touching him while they talked.

Just then, Dave, our neighbor's son entered the yard to do his weekly clean up work. I was sitting here, humiliated, weepy, angry and now I had to deal with this college student. I was wearing nothing but silk underwear and a camisole. I went over and looked in the mirror. Why in the hell would John need to get some from anywhere else? As I assessed myself in the mirror, I knew that my body was not the problem. My breasts were straining against the material. I still got lots of head turns from these. They were 36C and they defied gravity. And my legs and ass were also the envy of the neighborhood women. No, my body wasn't the problem. It was something else.

Those text messages were forward, brazen. I had been less aggressive lately, content to have sex when John initiated it. Maybe I needed to try a different approach.

I made my decision. I went to the back door and asked Dave to come in. Like most 20 year olds, he was slow to react. But as he approached he noticed what I was wearing, or rather, what I wasn't.

He seemed guarded as he approached.

"Dave. I have a different job for you today."

I motioned for him to come inside and as he did I closed the sliding door behind him.

He turned to face me and I stood in front of him.

"I noticed you staring at me Dave"

"What? Mrs. Stevens. I wasn't. "

"Call me Christy. And yes you were. Were you staring at these?" I cupped my breasts with my hands. My nipples were drilling holes in the material. "Or this" And I turned around and wiggled my ass at him.

"Mrs. Ste, uh, Christy, I was just coming to work on the grass I swear. I didn't mean to look"

"You don't like the way I look?" I pouted and moved closer to him.

"No, you're awesome. Hottest woman on the block."

"Well, Dave, I need you to prove that to me." I stepped forward put my hand on his chest , grabbed his shirt with my hand and pulled him toward me. Bigger and stronger than I, he did not resist. I got on my tiptoes and kissed him, pressing my chest against his. I could feel his cock stirring in his loose basketball shorts. I loved this feeling. I was the aggressor. I was getting what I wanted.

I was in no mood for games.

"It's time for you to get to work" I grabbed his shorts by the band and dragged him to my bedroom. I sat him down on the bed, turned on some music and started to strip for him. I swayed to the music, slowly pulling my tank top up and over my head. His mouth hung open trying to assimilate what was happening. His cock was less ambiguous.

"Take off your clothes, Dave."

He pulled everything off in a flash and I was now naked, alone with a young man with my husband somewhere on a golf course.

I was rdy 2 fuk

And that's what I did. I knelt down and grabbed Dave's cock in my hand. Impressive. 8 inches and thick. I began to lick it like a pornographic popsicle, then stuck it in my mouth. The head of his cock grew in my mouth and I thought he would come any minute. Poor kid, I could hardly blame him.

I bobbed my head on his knob and I caught sight of myself in the dresser mirror. I was a wanton site. I wished John could see this, what he had convinced me to do in revenge.

I slid up and pressed my breasts around Dave's cock and slid up and down. On each downstroke I ended up with his cock back in my mouth. Dave had his hand on my head, guiding me to take him deeper.

I then climbed up on him and started to slide his cock inside my wet, hungry pussy. God it felt good. He was just barely inside me and I felt full. As I slid down on him I felt like his cock was dancing on my clit. My first orgasm surprised me. As I fucked him harder and harder, I felt my anger giving way to an animal lust. I was uncontrollable in search of my own pleasure. Dave was a mere instrument of that pleasure. John wasn't here. He had his own game. This was mine.

John grabbed me hard as his own orgasm waved over him. He thrust his hips up to meet me over and over until my second orgasm, less surprising but deeper than the first, overtook me.

We lay together for a while. Not speaking. I never knew revenge could be so sweet.

I told Dave he needed to get back to work, with a smile. He left the room and I went to take a shower. Later, I wandered back to the kitchen, wearing nothing but a thin silk robe. I just stood there watching as Dave worked away in the heat. I felt a little guilty about what I had done, but the phone was right there, reminding me of John's transgression.

Dave caught sight of me watching him and he smiled a shy, self conscious smile. He looked again and I opened my robe to tease him some more. Then, without even thinking, I let my hands run up to my breasts. I pulled on the nipples and lifted one to my mouth. I never took my eyes off Dave and he stopped in his tracks to watch me.

My other hand went down to my cunt where I began to tease and tickle my clit. Dave began to move toward me again as I played faster and faster. As Dave opened the back door, I turned my back to him and leaned over the kitchen island. I closed my eyes and waited with anticipation.

Instead of a cock, I felt his tongue against my pussy as he French kissed my lips. It was a wonderful surprise and it took my breath away.

Just then, the cell phone, the instrument of John's betrayal, rang next to me. This was delicious. I couldn't help myself; I picked up the phone. Dave's tongue drove deeper in and out.

"h-hello" I stammered as Dave's tongue hit a very sensitive place.

"Chris, it's Joe. You found my cell phone." "Your cell phone?" "Yeah, I lost it somewhere and I just borrowed another one to see if I could hear it ring. So I guess I left it there this morning"

"This is your cell phone, not John's?"

"No. We have the same one. I'm expecting some calls so I'll pick it up after the golf game"

"It will be right here next to me" Dave's tongue was gone and now his cock was there in its place, urgently looking for an opening.

So John hadn't been unfaithful. There was no revenge. I had been a fool. I had made a terrible, terrible mistake. I was just about to stand up and kick Dave out, try to undo the error I had made, when his prick found its mark and began to slide in.

"ohhhh"

Decision time. Go or stay. Let him fuck me again, or straighten this whole thing out and stop this. His cock was now fully embedded in me and his hips were pressed against my ass. What would you have done? In an instant, I rationally considered my situation, the implications for my marriage, for my self esteem. I thought about how John might react if he knew and how others would react if they found out. I thought of all these reasons and many more in the time it took for Dave to slowly withdraw his tool until he was just barely inside me. And my decision was made.

"Fuck me, Dave. Fuck me. Fuck me."

And that's exactly what he did. And just about every Saturday since then, whenever John and Joe head off for golf, you can find Dave and his young, gorgeous cock in my bed, and various other places in our house.

Not much yard work getting done these days. I might have to ask Dave to find a friend to give him a hand with that.

2 mn r btr than 1