Judy's Revenge
Chapter 1

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, BiSexual, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Fisting, Sex Toys, Squirting,

Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Judy thinks she's the archetypical bored housewife, in her thirties, sexually frustrated, with a philandering but lovable husband. She has other, stranger secrets too, that she can't admit, even to herself, until a lingering embrace with an old friend threatens to turn her life upside down. Will she break out of her humdrum life, will her marriage survive, but most of all will she achieve the sweetest revenge?

The first hot spurt splashes onto my upturned face, pearls of semen rolling and streaming down my cheeks, and then a bigger jet lands on my tongue as I look up at you and splutter your name...

"John..." and you smile as I swallow.

You know I never swallow for my husband... but you fill me with your seed, streaming it between my impassioned lips until I choke, laughing and spilling cum from my mouth, which you fill again, and this time I gurgle with pleasure, drinking the sperms straight down, in healthy, salty gulps... It's surely the sweetest adultery...

My fingers blurred over my clitoris as I stood there in the shower, panting, shuddering, on the very edge of orgasm, forbidden images playing in my head...

And later, in bed, I invite you into a place no man had been before. I'm so brave as you press your cock against my bottom-mouth, and then how I whimper, more and more excitedly until I can wait no longer, and nor can you. I suddenly lurch back, and let out a little shriek, you gasp, I groan, and at long last I lose the virginity of my arse. You take it from me lovingly, your cock pulsing hard as it loosens the tight grip of my anus upon your glans.

I slipped soapy fingers into my bottom, frigging it urgently, hoping that the hissing of the shower would cover my moans, as I let the oft-run fantasy movie play in my mind... I had been through this so many times, every thrust clearly etched in my imagination...

"Smack my bum... spank me as you do it!" I whisper, because you have found that other side of me, the one that has been longing to escape from my husband's orthodoxy.

Your hands land on the sides of my plump arse resoundingly, and suddenly my fiercely squeezing sphincter relaxes, and you slide halfway into me, and I can feel your rigid shaft warming me with its delicious heat. You smack me again, and this time I let you slip deep.

"Christ Judy, you're incredible, your arse holds me like a magic glove," you pant, and hear me mutter how I love it too, and then you bugger me, my God how you bugger me!

I grasp your balls as you plunge, stroking myself too, getting us so hot, so wild I just let myself go, and allow you pump to my arse with all nine inches. I arch so irresistibly towards our goal, bending back to let you fuck me harder, and my arse is shaking, my breasts swinging, nipples big and plump and erect, I turn my head and our smiles say it all. We come together, and its perfect, a perfect orgasm where my arse sucks each spurt from you individually, where my spasms fuse with yours, and you are a fountain erupting inside me, thrusting ever deeper with every convulsion of your loins. We could die in perfect happiness at that moment, so great is our desire...

And later, as we recover from the languor, I talk to you about the third part of my fantasy, the most important part; that has been growing in my mind unstoppably, obsessing me since I first heard of your connection to it... I speak about where I want to go to, where I want you to go, because I need it, and you so much...

With water-drowned groans, I came and came, feeling the hot gush from my cunt join the hot water from the shower. I played the jets of water over my clitoris and vulva, fingers blurring on flesh, until the peace the follows orgasm stole over me, and panting, I dropped the showerhead, and stumbled out of the cubicle.

I shook my head, erasing my umpteenth fantasy about John, and tried without success to concentrate on my life. I had known him for years, and always liked him. He was tall, quite elegant, with piercing blue eyes. More of a Richard E. Grant to Jerome's stocky, compact Jack Nicholson. He seemed to have a certain air about him, a confidence in the way he moved and talked, especially with women... I wouldn't have noticed in earlier times, but just lately I found I was changing, and instead of the pretty, pleasant but frankly, and I admit this myself, unexciting woman I had been, I knew that something was different in my soul. I had become sexy, very sexy, in that I felt like doing it, or I was always thinking about it, dreaming about wicked, naughty, depraved acts that had never crossed my mind before. When I began to hear the rumours about him, I found myself becoming just a little obsessed by the thought of him taking Jerome's place in my bed... doing those things that the rumours said he did so well... So much so that last time I saw John, and we hugged, I pressed myself to him as I had never done before, and held him close. To my horror and delight, he responded, not resisting, but immediately moulding his body to mine. I felt an intense excitement, and it was a bit scary too, because as we hugged, I clearly felt the swelling outline of his cock pressing into my belly, until in seconds it was huge and rigid against me! The first time since before I met Jerome twelve years ago at the age of twenty, that I had felt another man's penis, under any circumstances! And he knew when he looked down into my eyes that I wanted to feel it.

Since then I'd been in a dreadful turmoil, torn by guilt, jealousy, and lust. I wanted John like crazy, and I had the definite impression that he wanted me! Ten years of marriage, two children, and I had become soooo damn bored with my sex life, frustrated by a husband who served me bread and butter in bed when I needed caviar. I was twenty-two when we got married, and I was fairly inexperienced then, a late flowering swan. He hadn't changed his tune substantially from our first times together. It was wholesome, plain, friendly sex, but it was no longer enough for me. I'd grown up, and it was time I developed grown up tastes! I found solace in the shower, andoccasionally in bed, when I had the house to myself. I found myself on the internet sometimes, looking, but I wasn't sure what for.

It all came to a head a couple of months later at our annual Judy-and-Jerome Christmas Party. Ever since we've been married, we've had big party for our friends on the last Saturday before Christmas. This was our tenth time, but I had a horrible, niggling feeling that it might very well be one of our last. But, as usual, I was making the best of things. I was nicely drunk on champagne and brandy, and as long as I wasn't with Jerome, I was feeling very friendly indeed. Enough so that late on, when most of the guests had gone, and Jerome and his cronies were in his study smoking dope, and talking bull, I found John alone in the kitchen, but this time the devil seized me harder than before, and I took the initiative. I held his gaze, backed him playfully into the corner by the sink, and kissed him. Ostensibly, it was a goodbye kiss, because he had just said he was leaving, but this time it certainly wasn't going to be the usual chaste peck on either cheek. He had been fuelling my masturbatory fantasies for weeks, and before I could even think about holding back, my lips were full on his, tasting all the sweetness I had ever felt for him. He barely hesitated before returning my kiss as tenderly and sexually as my subconscious willed him to. Our mouths opened, tongue slid dizzyingly along tongue, our embrace tightened at the sudden tingling rush of desire, and as I felt that swelling penis pressing into me again, I thought I would faint from pleasure. Then caution seized me by the scruff of the neck. Jerome, anyone could walk in at any second! I pulled back, John's lips following me for a brief second, and then he understood too. It hadn't lasted long, not much longer than the normal farewell between boozy friends at Christmas, but it made us both gasp and lurch with surprise at the conflagration I had started.

There was a long pause while we held each other's hands and just looked at each other.

"I'll call you, I promise," John choked, squeezing my hand, and departed quickly, leaving me feeling very strange and shaky.

An incredible, electrical sexual charge had passed between us, and left me more turned on and excited about the promise of the future than I had been in years.

However, the weeks passed, and nothing happened, except in the shower. I wandered around my home in a daze, yearning for John's special call, which never came. I'd see him occasionally, with our gang of mutual friends, but he made no move, and gave no hint that he wanted us to go further. I was terribly disappointed and at the same time part of me was very relieved. The idea of really deceiving my husband, of committing adultery, with all the implications to us, to the boys, to everything; was a pretty terrifying prospect. The urge seemed to gradually subside, and with frequent sighs at what might have been, I tried to resume my normal pattern of life. Then one day when I had long given up hope, the call came out of the blue, in the middle of an ordinary afternoon. I picked up the phone casually.

"Hi, its John."

I could hear the throbbing tone in his voice at once. All my fear and disappointment seemed to melt in a second. I felt the blood drain from my head until I had to lean on the wall for support, one hand on my pounding heart.

"Is this it?"

"Yes, this is it..."

"When?" I could barely whisper.

"As soon as possible... Now... at my place... as soon as you can get here... can you do that?"

"I want you so much... !" Did I say that? Apparently, I did.

"Me too!"

Perhaps God was on my side, working in some very mysterious way, because by sheer luck the boys were being picked up from school by Jerome's parents for tea, and wouldn't be home till evening. Jerome nearly always worked till at least eight o'clock anyway, so for the next four hours at least, I was completely free to go and do as I pleased. Fifteen minutes later I was with John, at last in the embrace I had dreamed of until it seemed real, pressed so close to him we could hardly breathe.

Our mouths met with a voraciousness that almost made our lips bleed. Without hesitating, without conversation, we undressed, in the sitting-room, in front of the fire that John must have lit in anticipation of making love. My imagination had not failed me; though it hadn't been able to do full justice to John's long, lean body, with a cock half as big again as my husband's. My throat was dry; I could hardly speak from the excitement. I watched John as he looked at me. I know how I look; I'm realistic there. I've got the marks and signs of motherhood, but since my second child I've somehow come into my own, I've blossomed.

It was strange, after my first child, I let myself become quite plump and earth-mothery, but after the second, I think I realised it was now or never with my body and its propensity to plumpness, and I worked on myself hard. At that moment I was probably in better shape than I had ever been, even though the children have added that certain maturity to my tummy and tits. My skin was clear, my long brown hair gleamed with chestnut highlights, I was toned, healthy, but with all my curves still curvy, and pretty much in the right place. It had taken a while at the gym., but I'd regained my 38D, 27, 38 figure. I've never been skinny. In my early thirties, I think I'm really reaching my peak. I'm soft and firm, and when I'm turned on, I now know I can be deliciously accommodating.

When John held me that first time in his apartment, I could feel the utter complicity and surrender in both of us.

"We're going to have such fun!" He told me in a voice audibly thickened by desire, and lifting one breast, kissed the large, conical nipple. A line of fire seemed to arc from his lips to my breast, to my groin. I moaned, deep in my throat.

"Please... go down on me... I want to know how it feels..." I begged, it was my fantasy still; this is what he did to me in my dreams.

John was astonished; he couldn't believe I had never had my pussy loved by a man's mouth before! I didn't bother to explain yet. I just let him move down my undulating body, his tongue-tip tracing the line between my breasts, down my stomach, into my deep belly button, and out of it again, and then, into the rich brown vee of my pubes. I opened my thighs wider, exposing my moist, long-lipped vulva, with its pronounced hood. I felt him tease his tongue under the hood, and find the salty nub of my erect clitoris. I gurgled and writhed as John delicately licked it, like a cat tasting cream, before the greedy feast. I felt shudders in my thighs, I was intensely excited; I was almost ready to come right away. John could tell this woman needed a giving lover, so he gave me my first oral orgasm, playing my sex like an instrument, setting off resonating chords of sexual bliss that made me squeal and giggle with joy. As his tongue extracted spasm after spasm, he sank three fingers into the wet heat of my cunt, and kept them deep, pushing against my loins in time with my rapture. When my breathing became harsh and ragged from an excess of pleasure, he lifted his head. Panting, I looked down and saw his face wet with my free-flowing juices.

I reached out my arms for him, and we held each other, stroking and muttering endearments as the post-orgasmic tenderness engulfed me. I sobbed softly as I clung to my lovely lover

"Why won't he do that for me?" I asked, sadly.

"Do you ever do it for him?" John inquired.

"Well, yes... but I won't let him cum in my mouth... why should I if he won't even try to return the compliment... and anyway... I don't really like the taste of him... its... well... frankly it makes me gag... But why am I telling you anyway? Why don't I at least try to give you what you just gave me?" Somehow I knew that with John it would be different, not just because of my fantasies now, but because he had given me such pleasure first. I felt strangely tuned to him, my whole body tingling slightly, alive, in a new and very sensual way...

"Only if it's what you want... I mean, I'd love you to, but you don't have to..." John assured me, stretching out, his cock hard and pointing straight at me.

"Actually, all men do taste a bit different from each other... so maybe one day you'll find a flavour you like," he laughed softly, and I giggled at the idea of tasting a line of men until I found the right one. "If you don't like it... no problem... I'd still love to taste you again..."

It was so nice of him to say that, and it made me love him more. I smiled at him, gratefully, and took the tip of his shaft between the softness of my full, tender lips. My dream was coming true at last. John arched upwards as my tongue shyly caressed his glans. I expect he could tell I lacked experience he was used to, but I don't think that made it any less exciting for either of us. I lowered my mouth over him, he was a lot thicker than Jerome, and I had to be careful with my teeth. He felt really big, and was soon hard against the back of my throat, half his length stretching my jaws wide and throbbing wickedly.

"Hold my balls Judy, play with them while you suck me..." John gasped.

I did as he asked, and he sighed as feelings I could only guess at flooded his groin. I found a rhythm that suited his excitement, and my head bobbed up and down on him, the moist heat of my mouth taking him higher and higher. The feeling of his huge hardness sliding in and out of my mouth was arousing me wickedly again. He was so turned on by my sucking and ball-squeezing that I soon felt his cock twitching, pre-orgasmically. At this point, with my husband, I had always pulled back and finished him with my hand. But not today. Dribbles of slightly salty fluid were seeping onto my tongue, and I made no move to let go, though I actually wondered if he had started to cum. I looked up into John's eyes, nervously, not sure of myself any longer.

"Harder Judy... Harder... squeeze me..." He gasped, suddenly pumping up towards my face.

I realised that it was just pre-cum, and it tasted quite nice, very sexy, in fact. I tugged his balls, and pressed them as hard as I dared. John jolted, and then roared as he started to come for real! His cock seemed to swell and harden outrageously, almost choking me. I drew in air through my nose, and sucked as hard as I could at the beautiful manhood invading my head. Now our eyes were locked again, and I felt a surge of understanding between us as he erupted, volcanically, flooding my mouth with jet after jet of boiling hot semen! It felt so wild in my mouth, sticky waves of cum half drowning me, but what a feeling of joy, of fulfilment to give a man such pleasure. I had to draw back, after a few seconds, cum was flowing over my lips, down my chin. I had a big pool of it in my mouth. Everything was so fast now.

"Try to swallow Judy... taste me..." John panted hoarsely, while more sperms splashed hotly across my cheeks, which was also a first. No man had ever come on my face before!

I swiftly gathered my courage, and swallowed, and it was actually OK! It didn't make me gag at all, it was like a subtly flavoured savoury, creamy, lightly salted soup, and it was from John who I now knew I loved. He saw the blissful grin spread across my face when his cum slid down into my belly. I closed my eyes, and took him back in, so that the last, smaller spurts poured into my mouth once more. I felt the last jet land on my tongue, and sucking, pulled back from him, so that his cock left my mouth with a naughty 'pop'. This time I needed no prompting as I drank down the second mouthful of my lover's cum.

"I... I did it! I swallowed it!" I exclaimed, my eyes shining with pleasure.

I caught trickles of sperm from my chin and cheeks with my forefinger, and looking as deliberately wanton as I could, licked it off. John laughed at my naïve cum-play.

"And what did you think of it?" He asked, playfully, rubbing his cock over my face.

"It's not bad at all actually... I think I could get to rather like it..." I mused, taking his softening shaft in my hands, and milking out a tiny final morsel, making him shudder as I licked it off the tip.

Now that our lusts had been temporarily sated, we could talk properly at last. I had been longing to tell him about my doubts and yearnings, and I wasn't really surprised to find that he was a wonderful listener.

"I need to tell you about this problem I have," I said, after we had exchanged all the tender necessities of new lovers' conversation, and moved back to sex. "It's nothing to do with Jerome really... I mean it's certainly not his fault, like the rest of it, but... I've a feeling you might understand... It's just that ever since my second child... when Jerome fucks me, I... it's awful to tell you this, but I can hardly feel him inside me any more. I've done all sorts of exercises that my gynaecologist recommended, but it doesn't seem to make much difference. Jerome's not small either, and it used to be fine... But I really do miss that feeling of being filled, of stretching as a man enters me." Blushing, I continued. "I... I'll let you into a secret... I've been masturbating with cucumbers, just to remember what it's like to open up properly..." I watched a strange look come over John's face, and knew that he had guessed where I was heading. For the longest time I had not tried not to allow myself much more than the merest idea of his... speciality... as a fantasy, keeping it as far from possibility as I could because it just seemed too bizarre, and how could it ever happen to me? But each time I heard certain stories about John from one of my girlfriends, about gentle John who always treated women so nicely, and then did amazing things to them that changed them forever... I let him reach for my dream by himself.

"I've known other women with that... problem too," he began. I cocked my head, curiously. "I had a girlfriend, way back, long before I met Jenny, who was rather capacious 'down there, '" He grinned hesitantly, hoping that he wouldn't appear too flippant. "She used to complain that she never felt a man's penis touch the sides, as it were." I smiled, seeing his blushing uncertainty. "But she found out eventually how she could be satisfied - and she had tried cucumbers too!" He continued.

"How was that?" I asked, badly wanting to hear him say it.

"She learned to take her own hand in her sex. And then other peoples' hands... which was when I met her."

"You mean you fist-fucked her?" I blurted, blushing too, in the end I hadn't been able to wait to hear him say the words fist and fuck in the same sentence.

"Y... you've heard of fist-fucking then?" John stammered. I shivered as if he had caressed me. It was time for the secret of my deepest desire to come forth.

"Of course I have, silly, I've been thinking about it, and trying not to think about it since not long after Jake was born! I read about it in a Cosmo sex advice column, a negative reference actually, about how dangerous it was, but it somehow set my mind onto the wildest track. Then my gynaecologist examined me one day, because of my... problem... and though it was pretty ghastly, and I didn't even begin to enjoy it when her hand... went inside me... Afterwards, it set me thinking... there was the memory of a feeling I had for just a few seconds in her chair... I tried to suppress it, but I've just got this... I'm always drawn back to it sort of... magnetically... God, you must think I'm such a perv! I want to try it properly John... I really do... I've got a funny feeling it might be just what I need... and I'll be honest, it's one of the reasons why I came on to you. That and the fact I've always fancied you. But when I... I... um... discovered that you had a kind of... underground... reputation for... er... fist-fucking... that really swung it!" I couldn't help laughing at the relief of saying all this, my eyes dancing to see John's sweet bewilderment and dawning wonder.

"I may not have tried much, but over the last couple of years I've heard an awful lot - read a lot, even seen a few things, on the internet - it's just Jerome is so weird about sex. He's the archetypal old-fashioned 'marry a virgin, sleep with a whore type.' But like a lot of those men, he doesn't want the whore to be his wife! I still love him, really I do, but I've no illusions about him any more. I even know who he's fucking, probably right now at this moment." I tried to say it without bitterness, but my voice began to choke up.

I didn't want to spoil our mood with talk of Jerome's philanderings, and I could see John was desperate to know how I knew so about his fondness for fisting.

"Yes, but how did you find out about..."

"Girl-talk, the grapevine." I interrupted him. "Allie told Rachel who told Bea, who told me. There's not a lot about you men that we don't know." I concluded, smugly.

"So I see. That bloody Allie... I had a feeling she'd have trouble keeping her pretty mouth shut!" John commented, wryly.

"So, would you like to try it with me?" I asked, direct as I usually never was about sex.

"At this moment, more than anything else on earth!" John exclaimed, fervently.

The light of sensual desire filled our eyes as I lay back on the bed, my thighs parted wide and relaxed, knees bent. I do like and enjoy my own body, and I knew my sex looked luscious, peeking out of its rich brown forest. The exercises had had some effect, and I made it pout and pucker at John enticingly. My full breasts lolled sexily to the sides, and I toyed with them, holding and stretching them upwards by the nipples, making the sensitive teats tingle. I was suddenly inspired. Remember, most of my sex had been in the dark with the lights off.

"You know, I'd love to see how you do it to me, I'd love to watch..." I husked, lustfully.

John leapt off the bed, and a moment later, he was arranging a full-length dressing mirror so that I could see my own pussy reflected before me, in all its moist coral beauty. He climbed back onto the bed again, kneeled beside me so as not to obstruct my view, and smiled at me conspiratorially. I looked into his eyes, deep into his eyes.

"Fist-fuck me?" I whispered, quietly, but in a voice filled with the urgency of pure lust.

John opened a drawer and brought out a tube of Vaseline. In a worshipful near silence, I watched him spread the lubricant over his left hand, and over the thick lips of my ripe pussy.

Even seeing the preparations was making me all runny inside. I moaned softly at the first touch of John's fingers, and lifted my pelvis in supplication. I felt and saw my inner thighs tremble involuntarily as he slid two questing fingers between the slippery labia, and into my soft heat. Parting them after a few seconds, he could feel that my sex was already remarkably open. Instead of this being a problem, he added two more fingers, and with the four, he thrust knuckle deep, twisting, reaming; stretching my vulva as easily as elastic. I saw my labia sliding and rippling over his fingers, the flesh looking swollen and heavily aroused. John moved his thumb, sweeping it over my clitoris until I shivered and stiffened, and then as I relaxed again he tucked it into the palm, so that it was in the middle of his bunched, pointed fingers, and as he continuously swirled and thrust, I felt myself widening, inexorably. It was such an amazing sensation, almost orgasmic just by itself. I started to move instinctively onto John's thrusts, my breath hissing between clenched teeth, the wider he opened me, the louder my moans, the greater my pleasure. It looked amazing, to see his hand steadily opening my body, and knowing that the way things were going so far, the half buried hand was soon going to go all the way into me! I was ready for each stage so quickly that after just a couple of minutes John was thrusting up to the thickest point. His fingers danced in the wet heat of my vaginal tunnel, and I could see his cock was ragingly hard again.

"Are you ready for it?" He asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it.

"Oh yes... please... push your fist into me!" I croaked, desperately.

My eyes were staring wildly at the mirror, at the picture of a man and a woman joined in lustful perversity, at the sight of a man's hand poised at the fullest diameter of a female sex. He gave his hand a special, smooth, thrusting twist, and we both gasped with joy as the hard bulk of it slid sinuously through the tight noose of sex-flesh, and sank into my gloriously quivering cunt. For the first time since Jake was born, I felt truly full of man. Our eyes met, we were smiling, so happily.

"At last..." I croaked.

"Yes, at last," John echoed, and then made me arch as he thrust again, the heel of his hand sliding inside me too, so that my vulva encircled his slowly turning male wrist.

I was feeling truly stretched at last, deliciously, twingingly, tremblingly full! I must have been yearning for that sensation all my life, because I couldn't remember ever feeling that good from penetration, even before having children. I obviously had a pelvis that was totally suited to fisting, because I had felt only the tiniest discomfort, and even that was sexy. John began to very gently pull his hand back, making my vulva stretch over the thickening part, in reverse. It felt as wild as it looked, and I squealed delightedly. The sensations in the neck of my pussy were unbelievable, and getting more intense still as John thrust back into me, and pulled again.

"I think you're a wide-woman!" He said, almost reverently. His eyes were glued to my sex, watching the lips expanding and contracting around his hand as he slowly, masterfully fucked me.

"Wh... what's a... wide-woman... ?" I gasped.

"She's one in a million, she's very special... she loves to be opened, to be as wide as her body will allow... she loves this..." He said, and drew back, more sharply than before, so that his hand was poised at its apex, holding me so stretched that I cried out. Not from the pain, which was there in a small, erotic measure, but from incredible pleasure. He kept his hand still for endless, ecstatic seconds, and then plunged it back into my heat again.

"You loved that, didn't you?" He asked. It was a rhetorical question, but I nodded vehemently anyway. I had entered a new world as his hand entered my sex. Any last inhibitions were melting like snowflakes on a fire. I was burning with sexual desire, throbbing in every nerve with an awareness of my potential. I was utterly alive.

"I think... I must be... I wide-woman... too!" I groaned, and shuddered as John opened me again, twisting his hand at the entrance, stretching me even more, making me wince and bite my lips as my flesh and bones moved for him.

It felt so good I couldn't imagine that orgasm would improve upon it, it could surely only punctuate a pleasure this grand. How wrong I was! As John widened me still further, and plunged in and out, in a steady but dizzying rhythm, he started to touch the area of my distended sex near my clitoris. Even simple proximity to the throbbing bud made me jolt with the shock of fresh rapture. It was such an intense sensation it was frightening. I briefly wondered if I dared come with his hand fucking me like that. Would my senses just burn up? John eased his hand out of me, making me shudder hard and moan at the sudden emptiness, and then crushed it back through the tightness - but it wasn't the tightness of before, because I was already loosening, my sex adjusting to the size of him coming and going. It felt so good as he moved back and forth, gradually making me stay open for him. He was twisting his hand more, turning it, swirling his fingers against my cervix, and I now I caught tantalising glimpses of the darkness within. Casually, lightly, he brushed a finger over the tip of my clitoris. I shrieked, and my cunt went into a wild, clenching spasm of pre-orgasm. A taste of what I would feel any time now, whenever he wanted to take me that far. Our eyes met, his were liquid pools of lust, and I knew mine must have been much the same. He was waiting for my signal, he wanted to make me come, but needed me to want it too.

Almost inaudibly I whispered,

"Now John, give it to me now... !" and he smiled beatifically, the forefinger of his right hand lowered, touched, caressed, blurred over my clitoris, and the lightning bolts of ecstasy flung my pelvis and my senses sky-high.

I came fearfully hard, clamping his hand inside me like a vice. I heard deep harsh cries, and realised they were my own. The orgasm shredded the fabric of my consciousness, and re-made me as a fist-lover, as a sex-lover from that moment on. John rode my climax masterfully, sliding deep between spasms, drawing to the widest to take the next, until I was so weak and trembly I could hardly bear his touch any longer. I had gushed very generously, and I was all squishy inside, so wet that I heard a long, sexy slurp as he slowly; carefully drew his hand from my body. My eyes watched the departure through a mist of post-orgasmic languor. So much man had been inside me, and I had loved every gram and millimetre of it. I was crying without realising it, crying with such extreme happiness that I was laughing too, and John laughed with me. He held me for ages after that, until the trembling stopped, kissing me softly, stroking me; soothing me while I settled in my new reality.

After a few minutes, as I stroked John's long body, my hand brushed against a rigid pole. His cock, still terribly aroused, and needing release, while he looked after me entirely. My love for him surged, and I took his shaft in my hand. He moaned as I gently pulled back his foreskin, exposing the glistening glans.

"You poor thing, I've kept you waiting haven't I?" I said to it, and for the second time that afternoon I went down on John's big, thick cock.

This time I felt like a woman of some experience. I knew he tasted good, so I had no nervousness about that, and I knew one or two things he especially enjoyed, like having his balls tugged and squeezed. In return for the amazing gift he had just given me, the least I could do was give him the best blowjob I possibly could. I took him into my mouth gently, my lips caressing his length as I sank onto him. I felt the thickness and heat of him with my tongue, and now I knew it better, I found it more exciting than ever before. I held the base of his shaft, so that his tip was completely exposed, and raising my head, I flicked my tongue all over it, and then wormed the tip of my tongue against the spot where the foreskin joins the glans. John gasped, and shuddered. I felt him swelling with desire, so I backed off a little, and suckled him very tenderly for a minute, until he calmed a little. Now I closed my lips around his glans, and sucked hard on it, hollowing my cheeks, as if trying to siphon the sperm from him. While doing this, I began to lash him with my tongue, and again I felt the swelling. I backed off once more, blowing a stream of warm air over the purple head of his cock, and then I started to stroke his balls, very subtly at first, feeling them move against teach other in their sac. I slid down a little, reasoning that if my hands felt good for him, my mouth would feel even better. I sucked one ball into my mouth, and prodded it gently with my tongue. John whimpered, and his loins sort of quivered. I changed balls, and he quivered some more.

"Oh Judy... its too good... I can't take much more..." he groaned, so, promising myself that I would suck his balls until he came one day, I moved back up him.

"Let me see your face as I cum!" He growled.

He kneeled, leaning back against the bed head, and I knelt before him, holding his great cock in my hand, taking him as far into my mouth as I could, sucking on him, pumping my mouth onto him, tugging his balls until he roared, tasting that first trickle - the signal I now recognised - feeling the wonderful swell, not stopping it this time - wanting to see it happen too - wanting to taste him on my tongue - feeling his eyes on me, looking up into them as the first spurt shot, thick and hot, into my mouth - opening my mouth wide, with his cock still just inside - so he could see himself as jet after jet poured out of him - into me - spurts hitting the back of my throat - me trying to swallow with my mouth open - spluttering sperm over my chin - my cock-gripping hand stroking out the spasms - the other squeezing the cum from his balls - that haunting flavour on my palate as I swallow - the length of his orgasm - the oyster slippery savour of him in my mouth as the last trickles oozed out... Looking up into his eyes, I lapped up the last of his cream, a happy cat who'd had hers!!

It was time for me to go - the children had to be picked up from Granny's, and I could expect Jerome back later too. I wondered with a sinking feeling how I would cope with my family now I had had this sudden, awesome change in my life.

I had to take a shower, I smelled powerfully of sex. I'd have to explain away my damp hair with an impromptu visit to the gym.

"We have to talk about this properly," said John, reading my mind as we stood at the door.

I nodded.

"I'll call you tomorrow... or maybe... I could come round again?" I asked, my voice shaky.

I wanted it again already. I was shocking!

"Call me first, you have to think hard, and we have to talk before we go further with this," John insisted, and for the first time I guiltily thought of Jenny, his wife, my friend.

He was cheating too. He was right, we had to at least try to be sensible. We kissed, and I felt my burgeoning guilt slink away as our tongues mingled. We would manage. Somehow. We would work it out. Tomorrow... Soon.

It was a difficult evening, feeling as I did, so tender and emotional from the phenomenal loving I had had, but I managed to pull myself together, and got through, thanking God that Jerome was back very late, and so tired he could barely say goodnight. I lay awake for hours, my mind churning and spinning. What was I going to do? How was I going to cope? I comforted myself that Jerome had a lover, so I was only giving as good as I was getting. I still wished it could be him though, who made love to me so utterly, and satisfied me so completely. It was deeply frustrating! I slept eventually, and felt a little more stable when I awoke. I packed the kids off to school. Home. Fingers shaking. Dialling. John.

"I'm so confused... what about Jerome? And... What about Jenny... I always thought you and Jenny were so much in love..."

"We are... Jenny knows about us..."

"You told her? Last night? Oh God... I feel so awful now!"

"Calm down Judy... Jenny's known since Christmas that this could happen... you have to know about us... you see, we've nearly always had lovers... sometimes we even share lovers... We talked about you a lot, and she wanted this to happen... as much as me... you needed it so much Judy, we could tell... and as for Jerome, well, maybe one day Jerome will understand too, but for now it can be just us. It's all a lot simpler than you think Judy. We can be lovers, and it won't hurt people... as long as you understand that Jenny will know all about us... we don't hide these things... even if you need to."

" I can't keep up John... you mean Jenny... has had other men?"

"And women..."

"Oh boy... oh wow... it's all rather a bombshell... I need to think."

"Of course you do. Think. For as long as you need to. But don't fear it Judy, if you are really ready for it, if you can take that step, I know we can make you so much happier."

We rang off, and I went out for a long walk, as I did each afternoon for most of the following week, my mind trying to come to terms with all this strange new information. I spoke to John a couple more times, and he reassured me that I was no more in the wrong than Jerome, and in fact my need for experimentation was much more justified than his. Slowly it all seemed to settle in my head, and I knew I couldn't stop it; I had to go on, and see where this new road would lead me. My life had become so uniform, so dull; I couldn't bear to think that the future contained nothing more than I had already. Perhaps this excitement was what I needed to face my mid-thirties full on.

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