Love Mistakes
Copyright© 2025 by Quest12345
Chapter 8: Front row
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 8: Front row - An old friend of a couple returns to take revenge and, taking advantage of a mistake made by the husband, blackmails him and forces him to encourage his wife to have sex with the blackmailer, as well as humiliating the husband. In addition, the blackmailer uses drugs to push the situation in the desired direction.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Blackmail Coercion Drunk/Drugged Reluctant Heterosexual Fiction Cuckold Sharing DomSub Humiliation Group Sex Anal Sex Pegging Voyeurism Revenge
A little relief for me
The following nights we went back to using the strap-on. I didn’t have to insist much with Lucia; it was rather she who suggested it. I didn’t know if it was because she thought it satisfied me, if it was because the sexual excitement she felt made her need to feel penetrated, or a combination of both.
Like the first time, I had to simulate climaxing those nights, which gave her great satisfaction. The semen that gushed out from the stimulation of my prostate confirmed to Lucia that I was enjoying myself and that I was reaching orgasm each time, even if it was in a different and milder way than usual. The truth was that, although I felt a sensation somewhere between pleasant and weird, at the end I was almost more aroused and frustrated than before I started.
Some days I claimed to be tired or to have a headache – again, as when I faked an orgasm, I thought of the cliché of the many women who had made such excuses when they did not wish to make love to their partner – but, between her being in high spirits and knowing that Stephen would find out, I could not avoid always going through that experience, which I found unpleasant and humiliating both because I was forced to do it by Stephen and because I knew that it was part of Stephen’s plan to fuck my wife’s virgin ass.
Lucia, for her part, enjoyed it immensely when I fucked her, cumming with loud moans and hugging me passionately. She told me that although she enjoyed it much more when she felt a real cock inside her, warm and soft, and how feeling the hot semen spilling inside her brought her to orgasm, being able to make love to me again and feeling united with me made up for it. She tried to encourage me by saying that she hoped I would soon get over my erection problems, and I tried to compensate for her enthusiasm by telling her that yes, I hoped it would soon be back to normal, but I felt bad lying to her. I knew that until Stephen released us from his clutches, there was no escape.
Finally, after almost two weeks of these games, Stephen summoned me to his office.
As I entered, he pointed to a spot in front of his desk. All his actions were pushing me to feel increasingly humiliated and inferior: the sexual impotence; the powerlessness to stop his plans; calling me ‘Tommy’ as if I were a child; making me wait standing in front of him; making Lucia fuck my ass, kneeling in front of her; having to lie to Lucia and tell her what Stephen ordered; having him fuck her in front of me while I had to just watch; sharing her with his cousin Richard, as if my wife was Stephen’s property; forcing me to ask him to please fuck my wife; forcing me to thank him for fucking her; ... It was all making me feel weaker and helpless.
After a while, he said, “Well, Tommy, I think this weekend is the big time; this weekend I hope to finally be able to fuck your wife in the ass. I was the first to put my cock in her mouth, the first in her pretty cunt, and I’ll be the first to put it in her tight little ass. I brought up the subject of sex with Lucia at her last checkup, and she hinted that you’ve been introducing toys and having sex quite frequently lately, so I think when you suggest this Saturday that I fuck her in the ass, it won’t come as a shock to her.”
“I don’t think she’ll want to,” I replied, attempting a feeble defence.
“That’s what you’ll have to take care of. You’ll have to convince her. You have to arrange a meeting, saying that you would like to have a threesome with me again. When I start fucking her and she’s really turned on, I want you, as if it occurs to you at that moment, to convince her to try anal sex as well. She’ll be so turned on that I don’t think she’ll be able to refuse. Plus you’ll convince her that it’s a form of threesome she’ll like. While I stick my cock up her ass, you will be underneath her, in a 69 position, licking her clit. You’ll convince her that you’ll both be enjoying it this way and that she’ll enjoy your tongue and you’ll enjoy her mouth, but you and I will know that in that position, you’ll have a front-row seat to watch your wife getting her first cock in the ass. Plus, you’ll be licking her and helping me make her enjoy and reach orgasm while I fuck her ass. Don’t you think that’s perfect, Tommy? Helping me make her like it when I fuck her ass.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“No, Tommy, just imaginative. You don’t know how I’m enjoying it.”
Of course, Stephen was cruel, and I could tell he enjoyed playing with me and making me suffer. I couldn’t help thinking of the apparent cruelty of cats when they catch a mouse and amuse themselves by playing with it before eating it, letting it go free for a few moments only to catch it immediately and then letting it escape to catch it again. But cats do it by instinct; it’s something they are programmed to do as a form of training for something they need to survive, to catch their food, whereas Stephen enjoyed the game. I came to think that he enjoyed fucking me psychologically as much as he enjoyed fucking Lucia physically. It seemed impossible to me that he could have held a grudge for so many years for what I had done to him. Clearly he was like a spoiled child who can’t stand to be contradicted and can’t get what he wants – in this case Lucia when we were in high school. But these reflections didn’t help me get rid of him or even stop him.
Not knowing what to say, I replied, “Well, I’ll try to arrange another meeting with Lucia for this Saturday, but I won’t assure you of anything.”
“You’d better convince her and do everything I’ve told you during our meeting. You know the consequences if you don’t.”
When I started thinking about Saturday night, I suddenly remembered that my cousin Grace had invited us to spend the weekend with her and her husband at their new cabin in the woods. With everything that was going on, I didn’t feel like meeting up with my cousin, but if it would at least delay my meeting with Stephen, I was fine with it.
Somewhat relieved, I took out my mobile phone and showed Stephen the calendar appointment, saying, “I remembered that I have an appointment with my cousin. This weekend is impossible.”
“Cancel it!” Stephen said angrily.
“I can’t. She invited us a long time ago, and if I cancel, both Lucia and my cousin will suspect that something is going on.”
“Well, it’ll be next week then. You can go,” he replied, displeased.
I was very happy that the appointment with Grace allowed me to buy some time. I usually loved meeting up with my cousin, but with what was going on with Stephen, I didn’t feel like talking to her. We knew each other too well, and I was afraid she would notice something. And I certainly didn’t want to talk to her about Stephen and bring back bad memories.
Fortunately, she had overcome the trauma caused by her relationship with Stephen and all the nasty things he had done to her, as well as the acute depression she had sunk into. Since that time, she and I had become much closer than ever before, more than if we were siblings, and we had supported each other through everything. Grace became my confidante, and I became hers. She never told anyone except me what happened with Stephen, and I had never told anyone what happened between Stephen and me either. When I fought with Stephen and reported him to the school management, I myself was not sure if I was doing it to protect Lucia, to avenge Grace, or because I felt cheated, or probably a little bit of everything. But in any case, Grace was always grateful to me and felt partially avenged by what I did. Besides, confiding in me helped her enormously to overcome her condition.
Although her horrible experience with Stephen made her withdrawn, and she had a hard time relating to other men, over time she opened up to new relationships. She met a fantastic man, Olaf, a kind and loving person whom she ended up marrying some time after Lucia and I got married. Now she was very happy, and both couples used to meet monthly for lunch or dinner and to chat.
Although Grace and Olaf had been with us and supporting us during Lucia’s illness, it had been a while since we had met up as before, and this was a first step towards getting back to normal – at least for them. I knew that the situation was not normal, with Stephen’s dark shadow hanging over us. The excuse for the get-together was a cabin they had just bought in a nearby forest.
The truth is that spending the weekend away from everything began to seem like a refreshing plan, one that would allow me to escape from Stephen and everything he represented. We packed a few things for our stay in the countryside, and on Friday afternoon, Grace and Olaf picked us up in their car, and we headed to the cabin.
Once there, we unloaded the food and suitcases, and they showed us around the cabin. Seeing the two of them together always struck me because of the contrast between their bodies. Olaf was very tall, probably around two metres, large, weighing over 100 kilos, muscular, with a beard and long red hair, and very pale skin, while Grace was short, petite, with dark hair and dark skin. But despite his imposing appearance, comparable to that of a bear, he was tender and loved Grace madly, just as I did Lucia, and I knew he would do anything for my cousin.
While we were having dinner, Grace became very serious and suddenly said to us with a smile, “I have something very important to tell you. We’re going to have a baby.”
“Congratulations,” I said, getting up and hugging her.
“That’s great,” said Lucia, hugging her too.
After the hugs and expressions of joy, Grace asked, ‘What about you two? Aren’t you feeling up to having one?’
“Well,” replied Lucia, “it seems I’ve recovered from my illness, and I think I’ll go and have my IUD removed soon.”
“No!” I exclaimed without thinking. The mere idea of Stephen having sex with Lucia when she could get pregnant turned my stomach.
Everyone looked at me in surprise.
“But we talked about it months ago, Tom,” Lucia said.
“Yes, I’m sorry; I just care about you, and I think it’s better to wait until you’re fully recovered.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not made of glass.”
“Yes, but it’s better to wait.”
“Okay.”
During the weekend, the four of us ate, went for walks and chatted by the fire, but despite the pleasant surroundings and company, or perhaps precisely because of them and the contrast with what I had to endure with Stephen, I couldn’t help feeling worried, and at times I was distracted and didn’t follow the conversations.
Finally, on Sunday afternoon, Grace took me by the arm and said, “I feel like going for a walk with my cousin,” and led me out of the cottage and through the trees.
“What’s wrong, Tom? I know you too well,” she said as soon as we were away from the others.
“Nothing,” I replied.
‘Come on, tell me what it is.’
“Nothing, really.”
“I don’t believe you. We’ve shared so much, and in some ways I know you better than Lucia, just as you know me better than Olaf. There are things about me that only you know, things I haven’t dared tell Olaf, and things about you that I know you haven’t told Lucia. Please, let me help you.”
“You can’t help me, and I don’t want to bother you.”
“Please let me try. You helped me enormously when I needed it, and I’ll feel terrible if I can’t help you now,” she insisted. And she added, with a smile, “You know I’m very stubborn, and I won’t stop until you give in and let me help you.”
I hesitated for a long time about whether to answer her or not. I didn’t think she could help me in any way, and besides, I was sure that talking about Stephen would bring back very bad memories for her. But I could see that she wasn’t going to stop; she was seriously concerned, and I didn’t want to make her more anxious. Generally, what we don’t know worries and frightens us more, and once we know, it’s easier to control our fear, although in this case, the situation seemed worse to me than anyone could imagine.
Finally, I said, “It’s about Stephen...”
When she heard that, I saw her turn pale, but she continued to ask me, “What’s wrong with him? Has he come back to town?”
“Yes. And he’s my boss.”
“How awful! Is he harassing you?”
“It’s much worse than that,” I replied. And after that, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I needed to vent by talking to someone, so I told her everything. As I spoke, I saw her face contort into a grimace of horror and concern.
When I finished talking, she was silent for a moment and then began to ask me, “But ... you’re saying that boy was going to die anyway, right? Can’t you argue that if you’re accused?”
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