Purdey's Lustful Quest
Copyright© 2026 by CoryKing
Chapter 15: Purdey’s Rebirth
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 15: Purdey’s Rebirth - Purdey opens her marriage seeking desire and control. What begins as permission becomes obsession, power, and erotic reinvention. As intimacy turns transactional and freedom grows intoxicating, the consequences ripple through her marriage, family, and community. A provocative erotic novel about female agency, fantasy, and the cost of wanting more.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Ma Fa Mult Consensual Drunk/Drugged NonConsensual Romantic Heterosexual True Story Sharing Slut Wife Wife Watching BDSM Light Bond Rough Spanking Gang Bang Group Sex Polygamy/Polyamory Swinging Interracial Oriental Female Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism Oral Sex Tit-Fucking Public Sex Size
The persistent drumming of Melbourne’s winter rain against the window matched Purdey’s movements as she arranged her new apartment. Each methodical drop mirrored her careful actions—folding linens, organizing books, creating order in this fresh start. Two months had passed since she’d left her marriage, trading the large family home with its perfect garden and empty promises for this two-bedroom apartment overlooking Heidelberg’s leafy streets and foggy valleys. The space was compact but wholly hers—no lingering memories in corners, no betrayal in the hallways, no lies about working late or strange perfume scents.
She stopped by the rain-streaked window, watching water transform the city into blurred watercolors. Leaving had been both the hardest and simplest choice of her life—hard because of thirteen years invested, simple because staying meant continuing to diminish herself into someone she couldn’t recognize. Her husband had finally promised to stop sharing those private photos of her online, saying he’d focus on their children and the woman he’d been seeing secretly. A small comfort that arrived too late. Freedom, she was learning, brought its own particular pain, but she preferred it to the slow suffocation of living with lies.
Her phone vibrated with a message from Kim. “Coffee today? 2pm at Mr Martin’s?”
Purdey smiled. Throughout everything, her friendship with Kim had endured—grown stronger, even. The pregnancy had given Kim’s freckled face a radiant quality despite her fifty-one years.
“See you there,” Purdey typed back, sliding the phone into her pocket.
She continued unpacking kitchen items, carefully placing mugs on open shelving. Her new space reflected her shifting priorities—simple lines, practical items, nothing unnecessary. Like her current life.
At Mr Martin’s Café, Kim waved from a corner table, her round belly visible beneath a flowing green dress. Six months pregnant, she carried herself with a mix of amazement and tiredness.
“You look wonderful,” Purdey said, sitting opposite. It wasn’t flattery—pregnancy suited Kim, bringing color to her skin.
“I look enormous,” Kim laughed, rubbing her stomach. “But I’ve never been happier.”
They ordered—herbal tea for Kim, strong black coffee for Purdey—and settled into conversation.
“How’s Lloyd?” Purdey asked, adding sugar to her cup.
“Anxious. Thrilled. He painted the nursery last weekend—twice. Couldn’t choose between pale yellow and mint green.” Kim leaned forward. “He asks about you.”
Purdey nodded, focusing on her coffee. “I’m not mad at him anymore. He was used too.”
“By Ian.” Kim’s voice hardened.
“Yes. By Ian.” Purdey sipped her coffee. “How are my girls?”
“They miss you. Lila makes drawings for you every day.” Kim paused. “Olivia’s having a harder time. She’s old enough to notice something’s wrong, but too young to grasp why.”
Pain tightened around Purdey’s chest. “I’m seeing them tomorrow. Ian agreed to bring them to my place for the weekend.”
“And your lawyer?” Kim asked, changing topics.
“Optimistic. With Ian’s manipulation and my evidence, she says I should get primary custody once it’s resolved.” Purdey traced the rim of her cup. “I don’t want to put the kids through a nasty court fight, but I can’t let them stay with him.”
Kim covered Purdey’s hand with her own. “You’re making the right choice.”
Kim noticed changes in her friend. Purdey had been exercising regularly at her apartment gym, her arms showing subtle muscle. Her body seemed firmer than six months ago. Her face appeared younger somehow, with tighter skin across her cheekbones. Kim might have guessed Purdey was in her late twenties, not forty-two.
“You look different,” Kim said, examining her friend. “The gym is working wonders.”
Purdey smiled with slight pride. “Three weekly sessions with a trainer. Mum says my arms are too muscular, but I’ve never felt stronger.” She ran a hand along her collarbone. “My body’s changing in surprising ways.”
She stood suddenly, lifting her fitted black top to reveal defined abdominal muscles. “Look at this,” she said, proud yet disbelieving. “Six pack abs at forty-two.”
Kim’s eyes widened. “Good grief, Purdey! What happened to that loose skin you always mentioned after Lila?”
“It’s gone.” Purdey smoothed her top down, but not before a young male barista walking past nearly stumbled, his eyes fixed on her stomach.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, recovering with an embarrassed smile that highlighted his neat beard. His name tag read ‘Zach.’ “But are you on Instagram? Or maybe OnlyFans?” His gaze moved appreciatively over Purdey’s toned body, flattering without seeming inappropriate. Sunlight streamed through the café windows, catching highlights in his sandy hair as he leaned slightly closer, creating a warm glow against the wooden tables and coffee-scented air. “You could make money with fitness content. Those arms alone would attract followers,” he added, his voice dropping as his fingers tapped nervously on the marble counter between them, his manner suggesting both confidence and vulnerability as he waited for Purdey’s answer.
Purdey stared, surprised by his directness. He couldn’t be older than twenty-five—almost twenty years younger. The busy café around them seemed to fade away.
“I don’t have any accounts,” she replied, sitting back in the creaky leather chair. “Social media isn’t really my thing.”
“You should think about it.” He placed a napkin with the café’s logo on their table, his fingers touching hers briefly. “My sister runs a fitness page. Makes good money.” He wrote a number on the napkin, his handwriting surprisingly neat. “Text me if you want her info. Or,” he added with a slight eyebrow raise, “for anything else that crosses your mind later.”
With a confident, charming wink, he moved toward another table, weaving through the lunchtime crowd, leaving both women watching him leave.
“Did that really happen?” Purdey whispered, blushing as she touched the napkin.
Kim laughed, stirring her half-finished latte. “A cute barista barely out of university asking for your social media? Yes, and I saw it all.” She smiled. “Maybe consider his offer—the Instagram part, at least. Show Ian what he gave up.”
Purdey shook her head but tucked the napkin into her purse, surrounded by coffee and pastry smells. “I’m too old for social media drama.”
“You’re too young to claim you’re too old for anything,” Kim replied, looking at her friend’s transformed body with new respect. “Really, Purdey, what’s your secret? You look amazing.”
“Spite,” Purdey answered with a wry smile. “Pure, unfiltered spite. And protein shakes.”
They talked about lighter topics—Kim’s strange pregnancy cravings, Purdey’s new job at a smaller architectural firm, the silly reality show they’d both started watching. For an hour, life almost seemed normal, afternoon light shifting across their table as customers came and went.
As they prepared to leave, Kim hesitated, fidgeting with her purse strap. “You should know something. Ian’s staying at your old house. Cindy visits sometimes.”
Purdey nodded, her expression unchanged. “I figured.”
“The kids seem to like her.”
Pain flashed across Purdey’s face. “They would. She knows how to make people like her.”
Purdey thought about the five years she’d known Cindy. How she always found reasons to visit their home—bringing holiday gifts for the girls, delivering papers Ian had “forgotten” at work, attending every barbecue and birthday with expensive wine and calculated compliments. She’d shown up at least twice weekly with flimsy excuses.
“I should have noticed,” Purdey murmured, understanding clearly now. “She wasn’t my friend. She was studying my life, preparing to take it.”
Kim’s eyes widened. “You mean this was happening for years?”
“Five years of her coming over. Always bringing something for my daughters. Always praising my decorating or asking for recipes. She wasn’t being friendly—she was taking notes.” Purdey’s hands shook slightly. “Remember when she asked where I bought my bedsheets because they were ‘so comfortable’? She’d already been in my bed.”
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