Wife's Version of the Payback
Note: This is Part II of a story I submitted earlier as Coops181 called "A Friend's Final Act of Revenge", I suggest you read the original story first for some continuity -- however untasteful it may be to some readers.
* * *
We had said nothing to one another for nearly two hours after leaving the motel. I had a horrible headache -- and I felt sore, quite sore. I kept sipping away at the litre bottle of soda water in an attempt to rehydrate myself as my mouth was parched -- and also to try and mask the bad taste. But it was not working too well, even after I'd brushed my teeth twice I could still detect the distinct taste pervading the mint-flavoured toothpaste every now and then. And my jaw ached more than a little too of course.
I looked across at my husband, Garry. He looked as solemn as I'd ever seen him as he concentrated on the road ahead. I turned and looked back out at the passing countryside -- big paddocks with occasional red cattle scattered randomly near big old river-red gums -- and not too much else -- to me, all quite boring really.
I sighed deeply; my head was finally starting to clear with every passing mile, only now the possible ramifications of the previous evening jabbed at my thoughts like little bolts of lightning. How had it gotten so out of hand, I thought to myself, as I closed my eyes for some solace? God -- how many had there been?
I didn't want to think about it -- nor did I want to think about my behaviour toward my husband after he had discovered me -- alone and naked -- in the grotty bedroom! My god -- and the things I'd said to Garry back at the motel when I'd showered!
I felt like vomiting.
Had it been the tequila? I couldn't be certain -- it had been many years since I'd drunk so much of the vile stuff -- but if it had been, and I had just passed out as a result of intoxication, how come I could remember so much of the detail?
Maybe they'd drugged me -- Rohypnol or something similar? But didn't that give you amnesia --something that I was sadly lacking at the moment? It all didn't make too much sense to me at that moment. I'd never been promiscuous before in my life -- so why would I start now? Was it just because an old friend of Garry's had told me a story of how his wife had become pregnant to my husband over ten years earlier? Sure it had made me mad -- but not enough to allow them to...to fuck me! Well, I certainly wouldn't have thought so.
So why did I?
Morbidly, I began to cast my mind back over some of the events of the previous night...
* * *
Finally I'd started to relax. I looked over at my husband and noticed he too was looking pretty laid-back as he sat talking to his old friend, who had just brought over another beer for him. I still wished we had not come to the grungy-looking Clubhouse; I would have much preferred to have spent the evening at one of the quaint cottage restaurants that the wine-growing area was renown for -- but no, here I was, with two men -- one on either side of me -- doing their best to chat me up it would appear, as I casually lent up against the bar.
I suppose I should have been flattered. One of the men was not much older than a boy really -- quite good looking though -- and very attentive. Why he should be interested in a woman old enough to be his mother eluded me? And the other man -- well he was certainly your stereotypical biker-type -- tattoos and long hair, ear-ring and goatee. At least he was closer to my age -- but still youngish -- about thirty, I'd guessed. I remembered his name was Hogan -- the boy's name eluded me, ironically.
Garry's friend, Mick, had been talking to me earlier before he'd gone over with a beer for my husband. That's when Hogan had sidled up to me and bought a round of tequila slammers for the three of us. I should have known better, but funnily enough, I had not given it a second thought at the time. I was actually flirting back with the two of them like I had not done so in many years! A little bit of reciprocal flirting every now and then does wonders for the ego -- I have to tell you!
Well, it did not stop at one round of slammers -- another two followed the first in almost quick succession! My small frame of 5'3" was not used to hard liquor these days -- if it ever was -- I was more your glass or two of Chardonnay-type of social drinker now that I was all well-married, mature and mellow in my middle age.
Getting a little bit tipsy, I'd barely noticed when the boy casually place his arm around me and commented again on my top. It was one of my favourites -- finely crocheted in white; it hung almost loosely from my breasts and stopped just short of my belly-button. I liked it because it accentuated my tanned midriff -- my husband liked it because the holes in it made it quite see-thru and once or twice I had daringly worn it without a brassier -- only for his delight! But not tonight -- quite inappropriate I had felt -- tonight I'd worn my beautiful new bra of black lace, a lovely French brand called Luxxa Capricorne. It was so chic, I thought.
Again, I'd barely noticed when the boy's hand drifted down from my waist to rest lightly on my buttocks. The boy looked into my eyes and smiled, and commented on my figure. It was so flattering or course -- I knew then and there I should have told him to keep his hands to himself -- but instead I'd chuckled like a silly schoolgirl and let him have an "innocent" feel of my bottom.
My husband often told me my bum was my best asset. He often told me how it had only gotten better with age -- and now that I walked five miles nearly every morning, I had to admit it had firmed up nicely too.
What I'd imagined to be the tequila had relaxed me to no-end. The boy -- his hand still caressing my bottom through my jeans -- reached toward my hair with his other hand and brushed my auburn locks to one side and lent forward till his lips softly nuzzled my ear and he said something totally inappropriate to a married woman of good virtue -- he said he wanted to have sex with me!
I know I should have slapped him and rushed over to Garry immediately -- but for some strange reason, I felt glued to the spot and instead, I merely smirked kinda awkwardly, and said something to him about being a bit young for me -- it just had to be the tequila!
That was probably the turning point...
It was almost as if in slow motion -- the boy moved his face in front of mine and kissed me lightly on the lips -- lightly, but deliberately! It had felt electric! My god, I'd instantly forgotten for the moment that my husband was sitting barely twenty feet away!
The boy squeezed my buttocks a little harder and whispered in my ear how he loved older women --and he whispered in quite graphic detail of what he wanted to do to me...
Instead of being disgusted with the boy's behaviour, I had a bizarre feeling of...well...of empathy toward him; a type of closeness...
I danced up against him slowly...and said nothing of his wandering hands...
I felt...I felt control of my faculties slipping -- the music thumped seductively -- rhythmically -- the tempo making my hips rock and my body move in time with it. And then desire erupted within me incomprehensively...and the darkened bar seemed to offer anonymity to the surreal feeling of serenity I was becoming totally immersed in.
What was happening to me? How many drinks had I had? I was not sure...
Coloured lights on the far wall flashed in time with the music -- and I moved with it too. Hogan -- funny name to remember I know -- he lent in toward me as I danced with the boy -- I thought he was going to kiss me too, but instead he told me to open my mouth. I could not fathom what he wanted -- but I did as he asked just as he leant in closer, and pursing his lips, he blew pungent smoke into my face. I breathed the smoke in till my lungs hurt -- and the back of my throat went dry. I had never smoked before!
I closed my eyes as I held the smoke in my lungs for a moment longer, and then as I exhaled, I felt lips touch mine again -- surprisingly soft lips -- almost on reflex I allowed my mouth to open wider and a tongue darted in to explore in earnest. It felt so natural I kissed him back -- I knew from the stubble tickling my nose that it was Hogan and not the smooth-shaven boy this time.
I don't think we kissed for too long before we broke apart -- and when we did, I laughed delightedly -- telling Hogan he was bad. I was cocooned in an odd little world and my husband was far from my thoughts for the moment.
Then the boy turned me around so my back was now up against the bar -- and I'd offered little resistance -- and why should I, I remembered thinking?
The boy moved in front of me again and he placed his hands on my waist and I continued to gyrate to the music -- my senses heightened enormously at his touch on my bare flesh. A weird tingling sensation of desire fluttered low in my belly as he move a hand upward -- beneath my little top!
I shuddered involuntarily as I felt the boy's hand rest upon my breast -- and I sighed loudly and rolled my hips forward as if seeking him. He smiled knowingly and squeezed my flesh through the thin lace of my bra and I reached for his wrist to push his hand away -- and in my mind I did just that -- but in reality, I just held his wrist as he fondled my breast without recourse.
The boy worked my loose top upward till my lace bra was on display for the small group of men that stood around us. As stupid as it now seems, I remember thinking how pleased I was to be wearing my new lingerie and how good my breasts looked in the low cut bra...
The boy was quick -- a hand around my back unclasped my bra in a blink and I felt the pressure of the garment on my breasts ease. I attempted to reach behind to re-fasten the strap, but Hogan -- standing behind me -- quickly ran his hands under my arms and lifted my lace bra upward spilling my breasts from within!
