Judy's Revenge
Chapter 4

Copyright© 2004 by Story Smiths

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 4 - 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?

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

I had to piece my life back together in my head, and find space in there for this new phenomena. Nicki was wonderful about it, she completely understood that I had to exist in another world too, and helped me to get back there, walking me home, and leaving me at my front door with a brief, shy kiss.

Sometimes I wanted to be with her so much it hurt, but I've always been an earthbound realist at heart, and so has she. We enjoy the moments we can steal alone together, and we try not to be too possessive of each other. We both had other lovers when we met, and I have a family too. But oh, how sometimes we wish it could be otherwise, just for a few weeks perhaps. Or months.

I started to dream about leaving Jerome, or him leaving me... and Nicki moving in... Shamefully, when Jerome fucked me, I imagined Nicki doing me with a strap-on... Dangerous dreams, but you never knew what the future held. I saw less of John and Jenny, and as much as I could of Nicki. We have such an incredible rapport, in and out of bed. We make love in many, many ways, but it's usually fist-fucking that provides our grand finale, because it's what we share most passionately. When the boys met her, Mum's new best friend, she became an instant favourite. Even Jerome noticed a change in me, though I'm sure any interpretation he made would have been regulat girl-talk that made me more relaxed. Despite the sometimes painful split in my affections, I was altogether happier, and even in bed with Hubbie himself, I perversely became more generous. Guilt, and a thoroughly awaked libido, I suppose.

One night, forgetting myself, I sucked his cock until he spurted in my mouth. We were both surprised, but Jerome the more so, especially when I swallowed without any fuss. I'd been drinking John's cum happily for several months, and now found Jerome's flavour perfectly acceptable.

"You've never done that before," said Jerome in a strange voice, as I lifted my head. I licked my lips involuntarily. The old man really didn't taste too bad!

"Maybe I'm changing... maybe I want to try a few things..." I hinted, mysteriously, and left it at that.

Jerome didn't go down on me as I hoped, not that night anyway, but a few days later, as he prepared to mount me in the traditional manner, I gave him an ultimatum. Either we experimented with sex, preferably to my directions, or I wouldn't suck him off again. Jerome was as shocked as I thought he would be. I think he felt quite hurt and threatened - he really believed that he had been doing all he needed to satisfy me. If it hadn't been for the lure of regular and fulfilling blowjobs I think there would have been a row, instead of moody silence, followed by a reluctant acquiescence.

For the first time that night, Jerome and I enjoyed a genuine sixty-nine, bringing each other to lovely orgasms with tongues and fingers. I let him cum in my mouth again, and held his face to my pussy as I came hard, wet, better than I could remember having done with him since our first few years together! I woke up in the middle of the night, and saw that he was awake, staring into space, thinking hard; trying to figure out what was going on. I would wait for the right moment before I broke it to him that I was having my own affairs - or that I knew about his, with his young assistant, Francesca.

I decided to let him stew for a while longer - I needed to be properly prepared for the consequences of that bombshell! His flawed morality was surprisingly old-fashioned, and there was a very strong chance that he would throw me out, or try to. I had to find a way that would keep the boys from any harm. At five and six they were so young, so vulnerable, I couldn't bear to think of them suffering because of my selfishly unleashed sexuality. But at the same time, there was no way back to how it had been before, and from our most recent lovemaking, there was more than a seed of hope that Jerome and I could still make it work.

I puzzled long and hard, and talked it over with darling, patient Nicki for hour upon hour. Then, at last, I had an idea. It concerned Francesca, Jerome's lover. Perhaps, I thought, I should confront her, as a means of putting a certain proposition to her, or at least, and this was a faint hope, but not without substance, that I could get her however reluctantly on my side. I wouldn't use blackmail, unless it was absolutely unavoidable. I knew her fairly well through work, and though we had never said anything, and Jerome certainly didn't know that I knew about them, Francesca's fleeting looks of terror and guilt showed that she had sussed that did. She wasn't the first to fall for him... It happened first about five years ago, when I was pregnant for the second time, and still breast-feeding. Admittedly, I didn't feel much like having sex, but for God's sake, I was exhausted! The betrayal was enormous, and I was too weak at the time to fight back. I couldn't leave him, with one infant hanging on my nipple, and another on the way. For a long time I pretended to myself that it wasn't happening, and by the time I felt strong enough... well, by then I could tell it was over, he became all loving and perfect Dad-ish in the guilty aftermath, and then it felt just... too late. It's happened at least three times since then. It's almost seasonal. So, even before I bucked the system, and fell for John, I had become sort of reconciled to the Parisian habits Jerome had inherited from his French father. At least Francesca was quite nice, and seemed suitably ashamed of herself behind the breezy exterior she normally exhibited in my presence. From what I could tell, she had no intention of actually trying to take Jerome away from me. She wasn't a possessive lover.

I could hear the fear in her voice when I rang her one evening, and suggested we meet up to discuss things. Despite a rising tide of anger, mostly at Jerome, I managed to reassure her that I wasn't going to attack her, or insult her or anything like that, but convinced her that I genuinely just wanted to talk about the situation. I could easily understand why Jerome was so attracted to her. She was twenty-five, vivacious, hedonistic, into clubbing and concerts; she's stylish, tall, classy looking with long wavy red hair, exquisitely pale, lightly freckled skin, and was still naive enough to fall for Jerome's saturnine, man-of-the-world charm. OK, I admit he's still quite good looking, but he is fifteen years older than her! Now that I was attuned to my bisexuality - at last - even I found her attractive. I didn't beat about the bush, but confirmed straight away that I knew she and Jerome had been an item for nearly a year. She started to apologise to me, but I hushed her.

 
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