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Sweet Revenge

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There I was, a young, somewhat newly married woman standing in front of “Encounters,” a swingers club for couples and singles, more specifically a club for “discreet couples and singles” or at least that’s what their online slogan had read. I clutched my small white leather bag in my hand and nervously looked down at my wedding ring, twisting it in a circle with my thumb.

I had been asking my husband to accompany to a club like this for months. I didn’t expect our passion to wane so early in our marriage. It made me sad, but more than anything it had me craving the attention of another man.

It seemed like just a couple days after we exchanged vows and returned from our honeymoon that my husband was offered a promotion with a new office. They even sprung for a new desk and, you guessed it, his very own sexy secretary with coppery red hair, a little too much blush (in my opinion,) and a bounce in her step that told me one thing: she was getting fucked 6 ways from Sunday by my husband.

Maybe it was the way she averted her eyes and bit her bottom lip when I walked in to surprise my husband with lunch or maybe it was the way he seemed to lose himself in some kind of fantasy world when he was fucking me, like his body was there but his mind wasn’t. Or it could be the way I would walk into a room and he wouldn’t even “see” me. But I knew. A woman always knows.

Last night I had the house to myself. He had another one of his late nights “at work.” I made the decision right then that I was going to do something for me. Maybe it was childish but maturity has never been my strong point. I was going to get some attention of my own. I was going to make HIM wonder for once. I would go out around seven the following evening without leaving a note and, hopefully, I would come home smelling like a two dollar whore.

The excitement of the thought alone made me wet. I knew I wanted to get fucked, I wanted someone to want me, I wanted to please a man I didn’t even know, I wanted to be nothing but three holes for his sucking and fucking pleasure. I wanted him to go home and imagine ME when he fucked his wife.

As I did my research on swingers clubs I couldn’t help but chuckle at thinking how proud my husband would be. I’m usually the more impulsive of the two of us. Reading reviews and ratings was more his thing. I picked restaurants and activities on a whim. But I knew I didn’t want to take the time to date; I am a married woman after all. However, I wanted to be sure the place I chose was at least clean and as the slogan at Encounters read “discreet.”

I didn’t think this was the best way for a marriage to start out, but I wasn’t willing to give up on my husband just yet either. I thought a little fun might take away some of the bitterness I was feeling towards him. I wanted to have a secret all my very own. I wanted him to look into my eyes and wonder what it was that I was thinking about. I wanted to turn the tables.

Since the day I started puberty men have stared. My nickname in school was bubble butt. I’ve always had thicker thighs, a round ass and round tits with what I have been told are perfect nipples. I like to keep my black hair long and a little wild. It’s a nice compliment to my round baby face. I had my pick of boys in high school and I could make most of my male teachers do whatever I wanted. I loved the way men would look at me.

Even though I had a wild side I was a good girl when it came to men. I seemed to always be caught up in a long term monogamous relationship. I still did my share of experimenting with the men I was with but cheating had never been anything more than a thrilling fantasy.

After I finished my research on clubs, even reading all of the reviews, I poured myself a glass of wine and toasted the air, already shaking with excitement for tomorrow.

“Cheers to a night of new experiences!” I said. The words once spoken aloud to no one but myself made me feel a little sad. I wished my husband was there with me. The thought of him and that red head left a sick feeling in my stomach. I drained my glass in about two swallows and the sick feeling was replaced almost immediately with butterflies. I closed my laptop and went to bed.

That night I dreamed I was in an outdoor market. I was picking fresh fruit and vegetables: apples, oranges, bananas and carrots so vibrantly colored it was as if my dream had a filter on it. I dropped an orange and reached down to pick it up. I felt someone staring at me so I opened my eyes with my head still between my legs and there were three different men behind me.

All three of them were staring right at my exposed ass and pussy. My dream self was wearing a short dress and apparently forgot her panties. With them staring my thighs got a familiar tingle and my pussy was throbbing. They were much older men, dirty old men.

It was then that I dropped all of my fruit and as the apples and oranges rolled away I happily got on my hands and knees, propping my ass high in the air just beşiktaş escort for them. I crawled around like a little slut taking my time to retrieve each bit of fruit as my pussy started to drip with wetness.

I turned around and looked over my shoulder, the three men had multiplied and there were easily 15-20 all watching and pointing. Some had begun to rub their cocks through their pants. I was dripping with anticipation and dizzy from all of the attention. “Please fuck me. Take turns with me!” I thought to myself desperately.

I rolled over and the sun was right in my face. I couldn’t believe I had woken up! I squinted my eyes at the early morning light and felt for my husband. He had already left for work. Or did he even come home?

That sick feeling that was beginning to feel like a familiar fucked up friend returned. But not today! I wasn’t going to let him take this day from me. I had my club picked out and now I just had to find a couple of ways to fill my day.

I considered briefly taking out one of my toys or putting my fingers in my pussy and finishing my fantasy from my dream but I smiled as I thought to myself: I am going to save it, save all of it for the lucky man (or maybe men if my dream was any indicator of the future.) I would give them all of it. Every last drop of my cum and all of these pent up feelings of wanting to be desired.

For some reason my mind flashed to that cute little red head, my husband’s adorable secretary who wore too much makeup. Fuck her. I thought. Today was my day. My special day, leading up to my fun-dick-filled night. That’s the spirit. I told myself. Now, where do I start?

I bounced out to the kitchen. Fuck you Eeyore, Tigger’s back! I smiled as I hit brew on the Keurig. I stripped off my panties and my new Star Wars tank. I left a little trail of my clothing from the kitchen to the shower. He hates when I don’t pick up my clothes. Funny thing is when we were dating he thought it was cute. Shortly after marriage and then his promotion he began to find it irritating.

I stopped and looked in the mirror at my tan skin and curvy figure. My ass was so big and round, it really was a sight to behold. I always felt so fortunate that I was gifted with the tits AND the ass. I sort of felt bad for girls who were given one but not the other or even worse, none at all.

My shower was quick because I knew I’d take another right before leaving for the club. I threw on a comfy sun dress, tossed my messy black hair on top of my head and secured it with a hair tie, added a little lip gloss some flip flops and poured my coffee in a to-go cup. I silenced the ringer on my phone; I knew one call from him and I would change my mind. All I had to do was hear his voice and I’d have second thoughts.

I was out the door and headed for south Phoenix. There was a lingerie shop in a slightly shady neighborhood I had always wanted to try. My husband always said, “it looks scary from the outside and who knows what goes on inside.” Well, I was about to find out.

I pulled into the parking lot. First thing I noticed was how clean it was. Absolutely no litter anywhere. It was as if someone who worked there had the same thought as me: “trash in the parking lot would make this a trashy place” and made it their mission to keep it clean. I was nervous to go in but the excitement was a welcome feeling over the neglect and sadness that seemed to be dominating my life those past few months. I felt intoxicated with empowerment and new experiences.

The moment I walked in I felt at ease. The first few glimpses I got were of sexy outfits, some whips, and these amazing wigs! I have had black hair my whole life so I wanted to try one on immediately. A blond lady maybe a few years older than me walked up. She had an air of confidence about her that felt comforting. She welcomed me in a truly genuine fashion, like we were old friends and she knew I was coming.

“How can I help you, baby?” She said this like she was my mom and I instantly wanted to tell her everything.

I kept the details to myself, though, and just replied with, “I need something special, something different, something BOLD for tonight.” Looking back at the wigs again, I said, “Make me a different person.”

She glanced back to where I had looked and in a smooth tone, almost like my fairy godmother, she said, “You like the wigs, do you?”

“I really do! But I’ve never worn one before.”

“Come on over here and we’ll try some on.”

She took my hand and walked me over to the wig display. She placed me in front of a mirror and stood behind me. She placed the outside of her hand on my cheek and brushed it softly.

“You have a beautiful olive complexion and perfect skin,” she said.

With her touch I instantly felt a tingle just below my belly button. “Tell me what you’re thinking about,” she said.

I was thinking about kissing her. About her mouth on mine. I imagined beşyol escort her pinning me to the wall as she made her way down my neck and straight to my breasts. She made me feel like I was the only customer she had ever had. It was embarrassing when I realized this was her job and she probably made everyone feel this way.

“Umm…What do you mean?” I replied awkwardly.

Just then our eyes met in the mirror and she smiled. “I mean, what colors are you considering?”

“Of course!” my usually olive cheeks actually flushed and I felt the blood run right to my head. “Uh, something different, something bold, maybe fiery. Maybe…red? But I am totally open to your professional opinion,” I added nervously.

She pulled a beautiful wig off the shelf. It was long and red but not coppery like the clown face my husband had been plowing. It was more of a burgundy. She placed it against my face and said, “I think this is the perfect color for you.”

She placed a net over my natural hair, to prevent fly-aways I guessed, and then gently put the wig on my head, straightening it so it was perfectly in place. She put part of it behind one of my shoulders, caressing the nape of my neck as she did this. I could feel her breath on my back and the tingle returned.

She looked at me proudly, like I was her project and suggested we make our way over to lingerie to find “just the perfect thing for my sexy curves.”

I couldn’t help but feel like a shy little school girl when she said that. A little corner of my soul wanted to ask her what she was doing tonight and ditch all my plans for the swingers club. Imagine his reaction if he came home and found us in bed together?? Maybe that’s just what our marriage needed, but his secrets meant the childish part of me needed secrets of my own before I was willing to share a beautiful woman with him.

I watched her walk a few steps in front of me and she really was beautiful. She had the kind of legs I had always wanted. Not that men ever complained about mine but hers were long and strong and wore her short skirt just like it was meant to be worn.

She turned at me quickly and looked at me in an almost surgical fashion. Her eyes darted from my hips to my waist to my breasts.

“You’re a double D, right? So you’ll probably want something with a little support.” She started rifling through hangers until she came to something white. “I know it’s white and kind of innocent but it’s still very sexy and extremely naughty. I think it matches your personality,” she said with a smile that made me tingle again.

I wanted her confidence, I wanted her ability to make people feel so special in just a matter of moments.

“Tonight I will channel her!” I thought as I followed her into the dressing room.

Once in the dressing room she very casually asked if I wanted her help. She added, “Rob is in the toy and movie section helping other customers.” She pointed out that I was her only customer and as early in the day as it was I would probably be her only one until after noon.

“I would love that. You’ve been great so far,” I told her thankfully.

We looked in the mirror together again, with her behind me. She must have been a good five inches taller than me. Like a mother to a child, she gently untied the straps of my sundress and in one swift movement, like only a woman with the understanding of women’s clothing could do, my dress was gone. I stood there in light blue boy shorts and no bra.

Instinctively my hands went right over my breasts. She looked at me with kind eyes and slowly removed my hands one at a time.

“You’re a beautiful girl. Don’t ever cover yourself up like that.”

I turned and looked at her and I could hear the sound of our breath. Hers was relaxed but shallow. Mine was shaky. She ran her hands down my shoulders and the length of my arms leaving a trail of goose bumps as she did this.

“We need to remove these boy shorts if we want to get the full impact this lingerie is going to make on your beautiful body.” She dropped to her knees and pulled them gently off my hips. Slowly they slid down my round ass. She had so much poise, so much patience, like she was unwrapping the birthday gift she had been waiting on for years.

She slid her hands down my thighs and I could feel her breath on my pussy. I was sure she would see a wet spot on my panties as she lowered them down my legs. I was filled with the sweet scent of my own sex as I am sure she was too. She lowered them down to my ankles. As I took one foot out at a time her eyes never left my pussy.

Her desire for me was almost overwhelming. I wanted to grab her head and shove her face in my sweet pussy where it belonged. As the thought occurred to me I let out a soft moan. Embarrassed once again my hands instinctively covered my pussy. She patiently but firmly removed them.

“What did I say to you earlier?” Her voice was controlled yet firm.

When she beykent escort took the lingerie off the hanger I was instantly thankful I chose to have her accompany me in the dressing room and not just due to her insanely intense sex appeal. The outfit looked so complicated with all of the white lace and satin and small little hooks and buttons and ribbons.

“Technically this is from the bridal section of lingerie.” She glanced down to my wedding ring, looked back at my face and said, “though I have a feeling this isn’t for your husband. I thought the white would complement your complexion and deep down I sort of enjoyed the thought of someone unwrapping you and making you theirs for the evening.” She gave me an understanding wink.

Once again she was on her knees as she slowly rolled one white stocking up to my thigh and then the other. She made it look so easy. The few times I had worn thigh highs I think I struggled more putting them on myself than she did.

“There,” she said as she gripped my legs holding them in place while squatting on the back of her heels. Once again my pussy was right in her face and I could feel her warm breath.

“You have such a pretty little pussy,” she said to me and that was it. It was like that was all I needed to hear. My knees were weak and I was brought back to my dream from the night before. All the men staring at my pussy longingly, hungrily and now this. I wasn’t sure if I could really save myself for tonight. I wanted her so bad.

She rose up, all business, and placed the corset over my torso and took her time buttoning each little snap. The corset made my tits look amazing and really accentuated my curves. The boning ran from my ribs all the way down to my hips where the garter began.

She attached the garter to my stockings, stood up, held my arms out once again like an adoring mother to a child and said, “You look so sweet and so sexy and it really goes with the hair!”

She looked down at my pussy again and smiled and then sort of laughed, covering up her mouth. “Uh oh, looks like I may have forgotten something.” And once again she reminded me of a fairy godmother, only it wasn’t the shoes she forgot it was the tiny white panties that I knew would ride right up my ass the moment I had them on.

“Well, you get the idea,” she said and we both smiled. I looked in the mirror and I liked the way the lingerie covered my stomach and my tits with just the mound of my pussy showing and my round ass out the back. I knew my pussy would look so cute and supple once I had it all shaved.

I gave her a big hug, pressing my tits against her, and told her how much I appreciated her time and attention. My pussy was throbbing and my hard nipples rubbed against the satin of the corset. I was sort of waiting for something else to happen but I did take into consideration she was working.

“SHOES!” she yelled, bringing me back to reality.

We picked some killer shoes out. “This is where the strippers shop for their shoes. That’s why we have so many different kinds.”

We also picked out some sensual lotions, body wash and shave cream. I didn’t want to leave. I felt like I had made a new friend, the kind of friend you can talk to and fuck but I assured her I would be back to shop. I waved goodbye heading for my next appointment. Mani/pedi! Everything had to be perfect for tonight.

As I walked into the salon I remembered the last time I was here. I had come to get a mani/pedi but sprung for the Brazilian wax “Hollywood” style where they remove all the hair on your pussy with not even a landing strip.

When I had been taken into the back room I had been a little disappointed that I never got the one and only male technician they had. That particular day I was really craving the touch of a man, especially during something so intimate as the full wax treatment.

When I had arrived home later that day I greeted my husband at the door wearing nothing but a school girl skirt and a tight white tank top with knee high socks. I had jumped in his arms, handed him a paddle and purred, “Daddy I’ve been a bad little girl.” To my surprise he had looked at me with more irritation than lust and told me he was only home for a quick shower and had to go meet the big boss for dinner.

My attention was brought back to reality as a small Asian woman greeted me and showed me to my massage chair. To my surprise the male technician came right over to me and asked me what I wanted. As I explained to him how I wanted my nails and toes to look I started the vibration function on my chair. I felt the sensation start at my ass and thighs and move right up my pussy. It was such a distracting feeling as this young man took my foot and began to massage.

He massaged so deeply and with the power not a single one of those women held in their small hands. I thought today truly was my lucky day! For a brief moment I considered going to the casino after this just to try my luck at some Black Jack. I decided I wouldn’t push it though.

I looked down at his large hands on my foot and we made eye contact. He had kind, dark brown eyes and a sensuality about him that comes from working in the service industry and pleasuring people, most of whom were women, all day long. As he stared in my eyes and made his way up my calves he made my whole body melt in his hands.

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