A Friend's Final Act of Revenge

In only a few minutes, and with Kim still pulling me, I felt my cock harden up again – not that it had gone completely soft anyway – and I wanted to fuck her still...go the whole nine yards!

Kim said nothing as I got up onto my knees and unzipped each of her long boots and pulled them with some effort from her feet. I had looked down at her pretty face and noticed she looked anxious – but she still said nothing. Her jeans were hard to get off too, but she helped me work them down by lifting her bottom off the dusty floor for a few moments...

She just lay there looking sweet and vulnerable as I reached for the band of her partly dislodged panties...Kim lifted her butt again for me, and slowly (don't ask me how; I was now completely beside myself with lust, I can tell you!)....anyway, slowly, very slowly I slipped her tiny knickers down over her smooth hips and down her slim thighs and past her lovely knees. When I was finally near her slender ankles, Kim lifted her feet out of them – one at a time – it was beautiful!

But I left her socks on.

I knelt there looking down at her stunning body in the filtered moonlight; her breasts bare, and her iron-board flat stomach pale and slim looking, and her exquisite-looking pussy, with its little thatch of short pubic hair glistening like the star of Bethlehem, wow!.

"You can't come in me...alright? Come over my belly if you want, but not in me," Kim said frankly.

I nodded in acquiescence and moved in between her slowly parting legs as she brought her knees up – the shed was not the most romantic of places to fuck a pretty girl the calibre of Kim of course – but it would have to do. Kim let her knees drop apart from one another and opened up her slim legs, then she reached for my cock and I lowered myself down...

"You've got a nice cock, Garry...I hope I'm not too wet for you...I'm not always this juicy," Kim volunteered with a touching modesty, as she guided my penis toward her beckoning slit.

I could only describe it as electric! The moment my big fat knob touched her gorgeous, wet labia I felt wonderfully erotic tingling sensations course through my body, and with Kim's pretty little hand holding my slug, she rubbed my cock up and down her slit in preparation, her puffy folds of flesh opening up responsively...

...and I lent forward.

It went in just sooo damn easy...not that I'm suggesting for a second that she had a biggish cunt or anything, quite the contrary, but she was just sooo fucking wet her little opening engulfed all of my cock with astonishing ease.

"Remember...don't come in me...please...okay?" Kim whispered softly, as she began to rock her hips around.

I withdrew partway, and then immediately sunk my length back into her warmth completely again – she let out a small groan, smiling up at me as I rested upon my outstretched arms, while looking down at her angelic face with its cute little dimples and small faded freckles across the bridge of the nose.

Her hands reached around behind my bum and pulled me in closer – tilting her pelvis upward as she did so, "Well...you going to fuck me or not?" she suggested, crudely.

The feeling of my cock inside of her – finally, after all the long drawn out foreplay, felt completely indescribable already – but then the little vamp began to contract her vaginal muscles with surprising strength! I was in total ecstasy! I had only ever experienced that sort of thing from Claire in the past – and now, here was Mick's wife, Kim, literally milking my shaft with her wonderful, amazingly pleasurable, fabulously delightful...pussy!

Having already come in Kim's mouth some fifteen minutes or so earlier, I had really expected to have some stamina for the grand-finale of fucking her on the hard floor – but something told me it wasn't going to be so...

I began to fuck her with long, deliberate strokes at first – and with every thrust she responded with a reciprocal pelvic thrust. Still up on my arms and looking down at her, I watched with pleasure as her hard little titties bobbed back and forth like a pair of...well, like a pair of scrumptiously firm breasts!

Kim urged me on quite vocally, and began to thrash about beneath me, a bit out of sync every now and then, causing my cock to pop out of her hungry snatch a couple of times. So I lowered myself onto her and picked up the pace a bit.

I'll be buggered if she wasn't a complete maddie with a stiff cock in her! It took considerable effort to keep up with her thrashing about as I pumped into her with an almost reckless abandon!

And she went off! No more than a couple of minutes into our root, she told me in no uncertain terms that she was coming! I'd wondered for a split second if she was always like it when being fucked – and if Mick's neighbours enjoyed listening to their love-making too! Funny isn't it, but even though I was busily fucking my good friend's wife – a man of which I had a great respect and admiration for – at that moment in time, I did not have one skerrick of guilt or anxiety about it – or concern about any repercussions for what we were doing at that moment! Nup, not a bit! Kim and I were at one making beautiful music, on a lovely evening – as we madly fucked each other silly...

It didn't take long, I just knew it, she was probably the wildest piece of arse I'd ever had at that time – not even Claire (whom was my fiancé at the time) came remotely close to ever putting in the effort that Kim was putting in at that moment, as I ground into her! She bit, she scratched, she bucked and humped – and the language! And from a married lady too! Well it all added up to one thing didn't it...I was going to come...damn it, I guessed that barely ten minutes had passed – and I was going to blow already!

Kim, the sweet thing, had her legs wrapped around my arse, holding me in tightly – a bit too tightly. She seemed quite oblivious to my pending release (and I even felt a bit embarrassed for not lasting longer), so I did not want to tell her till the last second.

Well that was a mistake!

I grunted quite loud – and tensed up as you do. Kim looked up at me a bit stupefied at first – but then it dawned on her like a bolt of lightning hitting a church steeple, and quite frantically her long legs were unwrapped from me with instant alarm and she cried out for me not to come in her!

I didn't really see what all the fuss was about at the time – crikey, she was a married woman, and which one of them doesn't take some form of contraceptive, hey? Well, I was to learn later which ones don't.

It would have been only a bit anyway – just the first spurt or two – I couldn't help it really, for one thing; her legs had been still gripping me when I'd started to ejaculate, and two; it just felt sooo fucking good!

But I did what she asked – well sorta – and I pulled my cock out of her steaming hole, and then vigorously masturbated the last spoonful or two of thick cum right where she wanted – right over her creamy flat stomach.

Kim looked up at me with a crooked smile on her lips, "You didn't come in me, did you?"

I shook my head and reached for her hand, guiding it to her stomach. She felt the gooey mess pooling in her belly button – and thanked me! How's that? I watched her play with my sprog a bit as she rubbed it over her stomach and up onto her tits, leaving a shiny trail four inches wide over her skin.

We sat there recovering for a few minutes, sharing the last of her Wild Turkey together and saying very little. It was that uncomfortable post-coital thing you sometimes experience – when you know you may have just done something wrong...

And fuck me – had we just done something wrong! The guilt swept over me like a tidal wave (tsunamis these days, it seems) and I wanted to get out of there and get her back to her friend's house as quick as!

But Kim was not a lot different to most girls who have just shared something with a man – well, you know, fucked 'em – and she wanted to kiss a bit more, and cuddle a bit more, and fondle each other a bit more too.

But I was strong (this time), and even though she was playing with my slowly hardening cock, I said to her we should go – of course she looked upset with me – but for fuck's sake, the guilt inside of me was tripling every minute! I'd just fucked me mate Mick's wife!

It still took a bit, but I eventually got her to dress again, and holding hands like new lovers (oh boy!), we headed back up to my faithful old bike again. Yeah, I know, but at least one of us was faithful.

When we got back to her friend, what'sa-name's house (frumpy looking thing she was, but she had a good personality), I stuck around sheepishly for about an hour or so, having another beer or two while Kim went in and showered. Now you don't think that would have looked suss to Miss Thingy-me-bob? Anyway, Kim told her she was a bit cold from the ride and it would help her warm up – yeah, right. Miss Personality was no great looker, but she didn't appear to be a fool either – and for Christ's sake, I must have had "guilty" stamped in capitals right across my forehead at the time! She knew.

Guilt is a funny thing I'll tell ya, that little hour or two of passion with Mick's wife has stayed with me ever since – not to the same degree of course, but it affected a lot in my life believe it or not – not the least of which was me almost never dropping in to see my old friend as often – to not being able to hold my head up as high when around his other mates too. It was a really nice fuck, of course, quite unforgettable, and with the chemistry between Kim and I, something that was probably bound to happen sooner or later – but I still deeply regretted it.

* * *

The crack of the balls on the pool table as someone broke brought me back to the present, and I sighed again. I looked around the Clubhouse through my bleary eyes and tried to focus properly – I must have had more to drink than I had thought.

Claire was still over by the bar, leaning back against it now, as one of Mick's other mates chatted to her. The young fellow was still there too, quite close to her with his arm around her back – not touching her, just resting on the bar top.

My wife looked completely at ease amongst them, but she always did have a thing for bikers, and she laughed and giggled merrily to whatever the men were joking with her about.

I sighed again; I wanted to leave, but for some strange reason, I just couldn't seem to get my shit together and make the move. I'd left my mobile phone in our car just down the street, and if I was going to ring a cab I'd have to go and get it – but nup, I just mellowed out a bit more and sunk back into the old couch. Maybe in half an hour we'd go, I'd figured, didn't want to appear rude or anything.

Looking around again, I couldn't see Mick anymore, but guessed he'd be about somewhere. I did notice that a few more had left and thought to myself that just maybe Claire and I could just sleep there on the couch or something for a few hours and head off in the morning.

Thinking of my wife, I looked back over to her, just as another three shot glasses were set on the bar next to her. The new bloke talking to her, a tall, dark-haired fellow of about thirty, picked up the slammers and passed them around. Claire seemed to hesitate at first, but after a little cajoling, she accepted the glass, and turning around back toward the bar, she slammed it down in unison with the other two either side of her and knocked it back!

I had to have a bit of a chuckle at the younger of the two, as he casually placed his arm around her waist. I wondered if I should have gone up there to take possession of my wife again – but quickly discounted it. Nah, the lad would have known who she was, Mick would have told him for sure. No doubt, I was just being a bit possessive like the old days again, something that had not occurred to me in years. I had nothing to worry about with Claire, nothing at all. And although she was still quite attractive, and as I had sorta mentioned before, was still in great shape for a woman of her age, she had not even looked liked straying in the last ten years of our happy marriage.

She'd be right – let her have a bit of fun, I thought, as my eyelids began to drop a little.

I must have drifted off for a few minutes, I'd guessed, and I felt so relaxed. I forced my eyes open a bit and looked back up at the bar. The three of them were still there, and I just caught the taller fellow glance toward me for a moment. Claire was leaning against the younger one now – I was not too sure if it was for support or what. My mind was unbelievably fuzzy for some reason, which I could not explain, as I'd had no more to drink since the last beer Mick had given me awhile ago.

The young fellow still had his arm around my wife – but now his hand was resting on her butt – she didn't seem to mind that either. A little wave of panic rippled through me when I noticed the young one look over my way – and then, what seemed to be quite deliberate, he began to rub Claire's butt in slow circles, all the while as he smiled at me.

I felt my heart race a few notches as a jealous pang developed in my stomach. Something was not quite right...

I wanted to get up – but I couldn't move properly. I tried to call out, but nothing seemed to come out of my mouth.

In horror, I watched as the younger biker brushed her lovely brunette hair away from the side of her face and lent in to nibble at my wife's ear for a few seconds. I waited for Claire to stop him, but she just giggled drunkenly, even allowing her head to be drawn around to face him and letting him brush his lips against hers for a moment.

I was spinning; maybe I was just hallucinating or something. But this was no crazy old LSD trip – no, this was somehow different – like being in a dream, or worse, in a nightmare when you are unable to run. Fuck's sake! I couldn't even move! My body felt like lead!

The taller fellow had his arm around Claire now, and I watched quite mortified as she let him kiss her too.

"Stop it!" I yelled out, "Let her go, you fuck-heads!"

But it was all in my head – no words really came out...

I fought to keep my eyes open – to be vigilant for my wife's sake. But there was nothing I could do...

Claire allowed herself to be turned around and she leant back against the bar – her arms dangling loosely around the neck of the young man. And then he leant in close to her – right up against her, his right hand coursing up from her bare waist, and up under her little crochet top!

A glimmer of hope flickered through me when I noticed Claire put her hand on his wrist in an effort to halt his advance...

My eyelids kept flickering shut and I felt like I was melting into the worn out old couch – my vision becoming blurrier with every long second...

I heard her laugh – the music had softened, or so I had thought. With tremendous will power, I opened my eyes again and focused for a few seconds – my vision becoming crystal clear for just a brief moment or two...

Nooo....my confused mind cried – Claire's top had been pulled upward – her black-lace bra exposed to an audience of no less than five men standing around her...she giggled like a drunken schoolgirl when the youngster's hand had snaked around her back for a moment. And even from where I sat, I could see the firmness of her bra containing her breasts fall away from her flesh! The taller one reached under the lace cups and lifted the garment upward – exposing her full breasts instantly!

The other men cheered – and my wife squealed......just as the youngster's hand covered one of her breasts!

Where the fuck was Mick, I thought to myself in anguish!

My last recollection was the horribly disturbing image of Claire letting her head loll back...just as the young biker lowered his face to her chest...and I would have sworn she was telling him to stop it....well that's what it sounded like....

...and then blackness...

* * *

I stirred slowly to the sound of traffic outside. My head was thumping something severe; my mouth was extremely dry and my bladder was full. My fucking back ached terribly, too. All the hallmarks of a good night, I thought to myself, as I slowly got my wits together.

Before I'd even tried to open my eyes, I'd wondered where I was briefly – feeling quite confused, but then snippets came back to me slowly – that's right, Mick's Clubhouse!

I sighed deeply, and with a moderate degree of effort, I opened one of my eyes just a bit. Early morning light filtered in an otherwise darkened room. One or two blokes were asleep on chairs over near the pool table – but that appeared to be it – there was no one else around from what I could gather.

I lay there a bit longer, trying to wake up fully. Fuck, I had a mean headache! I desperately needed a piss – followed by a big drink of water.

Funny thing looking around a Clubhouse the morning after a big night – all looks so different in the light of day. The place was grubby, furniture old and stained looking – and it reeked of stale cigarette smoke and grog! Empty cans and stubbies littered the place; ashtrays overflowed onto tables and onto the bar, along with an assortment of chip packets and a few pizza boxes. Amazing how much atmosphere a few red lights and good music could do to a shithole like this at night, I thought with a degree of aloofness.

I looked at my watch – half eight – not bad for me, bit of a sleep in!

I took a deep breath, and with a lot of effort, I raised myself up from the saggy couch – fucking back was caning!

The urge to piss suddenly became a priority, and I made a beeline for the toilets near the back door.

What a relief! I stood there urinating into the trough for what seemed like five minutes – my head thumping as I tried to piece the night together. Claire must have driven the car back to the motel and left me, I'd guessed.

Finishing, my piss, I tucked me old fella back into my jeans after a good shake and turned to wash my hands in the sink. Splashing water onto my face, I looked into the mirror. I looked a wreck. This sorta thing can really age a person, I thought. My eyes looked like the proverbial piss holes in the snow – my pupils unusually pinned like I'd done some drugs or something.

I picked up a dirty glass from the bathroom window sill and after a quick rinse, filled it with water and drunk copiously. I was feeling better by the minute.

Taking a few deep breaths, I walked back into the bar area – still a little bewildered. Fuck the all-night parties – I was well and truly past it!

I walked up to the bar – I needed a caffeine fix and spotting some cans of Coke in the fridge, I helped myself to one, and popped the top. Reaching into my pocket for some change to pay for it, I was surprised to find I still had my car keys.

How did Claire get back to the motel, I wondered?

Maybe a cab, I thought, or maybe Mick dropped her off. Then I remembered my phone – that's right, I'd left it in the car. I'll give her a call, I thought, as I took another gulp of the Coke.

Leaning up against the bar, I looked at some of the paraphernalia that adorned the mirrored shelving along the back wall – the usual sort of stuff; pictures, weird looking spirits bottles, CD's and other bits of trivia. Then I spotted the rack of trophies – not your usual trophies, mind you, nup, biker sorta trophies – women's bras and g-strings!

I sniggered at the childishness of it, but certainly remembered being a part of it all once and contributing the occasional special piece myself. One piece stood out – most of the others were dusty with cobwebs over them, relics of past conquests – but there hanging from its shoulder straps was an obvious new addition – an expensive-looking black lace number. It looked nice, and I was tempted to have a better look – maybe it still smelt like its donor?