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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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Wife's Revenge - 1
by Lesley Dudley (ouirup4it@yahoo.co.uk)
***
Wife is pissed off by her husband's fling with a family
friend and plans to get her own back. (MF, exh)
***
PART 1
Ordinarily I wouldn't have been upset by my husband's
infidelity. After all we had never been monogamous and
both of us enjoyed the excitement of an extramarital
flirtation. We had enjoyed dabbling in the swinging
scene and visited a couple of clubs. He was turned on by
my adventures with other men and encouraged me to be
'easy.'
The only unspoken rule was that all our extracurricular
activity was outside our 'normal' circle of friends and
acquaintances. As far as they were concerned we were a
typical suburban couple, good fun, but hardly
outrageous. It was at a party with our 'normal' friends
that I discovered that Gary, (my husband) was not quite
playing by the rules.
While sitting knickers round my ankles on the loo, I
overheard a conversation between two of the other women.
Perhaps they were unaware they could be heard, maybe
they didn't care. Anyway the gist of the news was that
my husband was shagging Sheila and that really it was no
surprise.
'After all, although Lesley (me) is attractive, she's a
bit straight laced.' Apparently Gary had made this
comment, when complimenting her on her sexual
enthusiasm. 'What a bastard.' I doubted Sheila's
attitude to sex was as experimental as mine and her tits
were droopy to boot. The thing that really pissed me off
though, was that she was one of those people who would
delight in scoring points over me.
No wonder she had seemed so smug earlier. I knew she
disliked me and it made me spit to think that Gary had
allowed her this opportunity to gloat. She would be
unaware that such dalliances were an everyday feature of
our lifestyle and that she was just one of many.
Unfortunately I couldn't let her know this without
making our private indiscretions public. When I recalled
the fuss he made when I had a brief liaison with a guy I
met at a disco, but who lived about a mile from us, I
was even more livid.
He had whined on and on about how the guy was too close
to home, how he might talk etc. It's a bit different
now, I thought ruefully. Subconsciously I was already
considering how I might turn the tables. For the rest of
the evening I maintained my sweetest disposition and
resolved to bide my time. Revenge they say is a dish
best enjoyed cold.
It was a couple of months before an opportunity to
obtain retribution presented itself. I had managed to
keep my cool and my husband was still blissfully unaware
that I knew of his latest 'bit on the side' or that I
was seriously annoyed. We were out one evening, when
Gary took a call from someone from work. It was after
eight, and I enquired who was working so late. 'It's
Donk the driver, he's on a late delivery, and was just
confirming he'd got the parts to the customer.' Gary
began to laugh and explained that Donk was short for
Donkey Dick the guy's nickname. 'According to the women
in the factory he's got a huge chopper' he continued
'and spreads it about a bit. Mind you they're not the
classiest lot of women in our machine shop.' he
sniggered 'then again, he's no oil painting .'
'Sometimes,' I thought, 'you're such a snob' but I said
nothing. My husband went on to enlarge humorously on the
rumoured antics of 'Donk' and his conquests for the rest
of the evening. Though Gary was obviously hugely amused
by how eager a variety of 'wives' had been to make
themselves available to this well endowed but, in his
words 'scarecrow' of a bloke, I was sure he wouldn't be
chuckling if his, and again using his words 'classy'
wife, was a notch on 'Donk's headboard. 'Mmm.' I had the
beginning of an idea.
The more I thought about it, the more intriguing it
became. How to get off with DD, let the news leak to
Gary but without it becoming general knowledge that the
manager's wife was getting shafted by the company
driver. Over a couple of weeks I managed, by sneakily
sifting through Gary's papers, to get a bit of info on
DD. His mobile number, and details of his regular runs
that sort of thing.
Now I needed a strategy to meet him. My husband had only
had this job a couple of years and I had not had any
occasion to get to know any of the workforce. They
didn't know me or anything about me, which at least
meant I wouldn't immediately be recognised as the
gaffer's missus if events went according to plan.
Conveniently I was between jobs, just doing a bit of
cover work to keep my hand in, so to speak and so had
some time to 'play' during the hours before the kids
came home from school. I had worked out that on one day
a week my quarry always travelled down the M5 first
thing returning depending on 'drops' along the same
route sometime after 2.0 o'clock. My first plan was to
talk to him on the mobile, pretending I thought I was
talking to someone that I knew but then realising I had
a wrong number. Once I had spoken to him I was sure that
if he was as much of a skirt chaser, as he was portrayed
by my husband, the next move would be easy.
Plan 'a' worked like a dream. I phoned him when I knew
he was on his outward journey. Pretending to respond to
a message from a guy trying to chat me up, conveniently
also called Brian, (DD's real name) I rattled on, using
an assumed name, suggestively for a few minutes before
he pulled me up. 'Err, I think you've got the wrong
bloke missus' He stammered in his Black Country whine.
I persisted, 'You are Brian, aren't you?'
He explained and I apologised for my mistake, by which
time he was becoming jokey and saying I could call him
up any time etc. I rang off. Just after lunch I rang him
again. This time we enjoyed a flirtatious little chat. I
asked him where he was he replied 'approaching Frankley
Services.'
'What a coincidence so I am I, have you time for a
coffee? My treat!' He supposed 'it wouldn't hurt.'
Standing in the entrance to the cafeteria I waited first
sight of my quarry. I had told him I was a rep for a
perfume distributor and had dressed with the intention
of knocking him sideways. Teetering on 5inch stiletto
navy sandals, I sported a little 'A' line skirt 'just
above the knee' and short jacket also in navy, over a
low cut strappy cream top. Underneath I'd gone for ivory
'Lejaby' platform bra and french knickers with matching
suspender and seamed stockings.
Only my opinion but I thought with my size 10, 36b
figure I looked every inch the classy sales chick you
might see in Rackhams or Beatties.
DD approached, and I have to admit my husband's
description was no exaggeration. This was indeed a
shambolic looking guy. Not short, maybe 5' 10in but
unbelievably thin. He wore a scruffy check shirt tucked
into a pair of dirty blue work trousers. These were held
up with a belt cinched into his waist so tight you
thought he may fall in half. His outfit completed with
work boots the metal toecaps of which had been lovingly
polished. Facially he was a bit Mick Jaggerish I
suppose, full lips, and a mop of unkempt dark curly
hair.
His skin was sallow and though, when he smiled, 'hello,'
shyly, I thought, his eyes had a cheeky glint in them,
his teeth were a disaster. At least one missing at the
front, some crooked and broken and receding gums,
whatever was in his trousers must compensate for some
serious disadvantages if Gary's reports of DD's exploits
were to be believed. 'Hi Brian.' I offered my hand
'Joanne, Nice to meet you, after our strange telephone
misunderstanding.'
'Oh yea' he grinned showing off his teeth to their best
effect I thought. Leading him to a table in the
cafeteria, I was aware of many eyes following this
curious couple and flattered myself the men were
perplexed as to how 'Worzel Gummidge' had landed such a
stunner.
I fetched the coffees and knew my intention had been
fulfilled. Brian was clearly mesmerised by my outfit and
me. Affecting a bit of a girlish manner, I asked him
about is job, where he went, who he worked for etc. He
responded enthusiastically, I suppose it was not very
often anyone showed such obvious interest.
Slipping of my jacket, I leaned forward conspiratorially
to afford him an unhindered view of my cleavage.' I've
never been in a truck, I bet its such fun being so high
up above the traffic. You wouldn't take me for a ride
round in yours would you?' He looked at his watch. 'Just
for a few minutes?' I pleaded in my best little girl
voice. 'Well ok' He agreed 'but it's not very clean and
tidy, and there are pictures on the cab wall, you might
be offended.'
'I won't,' I insisted and stood up to go.
He led the way through the back of the building to the
trucker's car park and a blue wagon carrying the logo I
knew so well. A few other drivers whistled as we made
our way, me almost trotting in my heels to keep up with
his ambling stride. Brian opened the passenger side
first and stood back to let me climb up.
My knee came up to my chin, to reach the first step and
I couldn't reach the pull up handle. The hem of the
skirt bunched up nicely to expose a fine sight of
stocking top and thigh. 'Can you give me a push?' I
asked. Placing his hands on my hips he almost lifted me
into the cab, taking the chance for a look up my skirt I
had no doubt. He climbed in the other side, and we were
in an instant pulling off the car park via the access
road at the rear.
He was right, the cab was grimy and smelt of engineering
oil, sweat and something else. Brut aftershave. Henry
Cooper has a lot to answer for. The picture gallery too
was quite explicit. Girls being fucked by huge cocks in
the cunt and up the arse, girls covered in sperm and
dribbling it from their lips. As we chugged along past
the Bell at Belbroughton, I ventured 'Bet you drivers
are like sailors, but with a girl in every town.'
'No we don't have the time,' laughed Brian.
'But what about hitch hikers, don't you get a ride for a
ride?' I persisted trying to get the conversation round
to sex.
He dismissed this wistfully 'You don't see hitchhikers
these days, every woman's got a car.' The truck rounded
the island at the end of the carriage way and headed
back in the direction we had come from.
The 'in car' phone rang. Brian put his finger to his
lips and pressed the receive button. 'Where are you
Donk?' I heard my husband's voice demand.' Just pulling
into the lay-by at Clent for a pee' said my driver, and
swung the lorry into a loop off the road where I could
see a number of vehicles parked up and a few men
drinking tea at a kiosk. He pulled in behind another
lorry, so we were obscured from the view of the tea hut.
My husband continued 'don't get stopping out knobbing
some bird, we need the lorry back to load up tonight.'
As their conversation continued I decided to move things
along. Sliding to my knees in the cab, I reached to
unfasten the belt of Brian's trousers, tugged open his
zip and delved into his crotch. No surprise, he wore no
underpants. My fingers teased out his thickening cock
and I heard the strangled voice of my companion assuring
my husband he wouldn't be late just as my lips slipped
over the end of his dick pushing back the foreskin as
they went. The phone went silent and I sucked deeply on
the drivers cock drawing it into my mouth. He was not
called 'Donkey' for nothing. Soon I had a hand-span
filling my mouth and another being gripped by my
fingers.
Already my jaw ached from being held open so wide. I
felt Brian fumbling at my neck and sat up, not wanting
his grubby finger marks on my cream top. 'wait' I
instructed sitting on my haunches to remove my jacket,
top and bra. Brian used the break to ease his trousers
round his ankles then leaned forward to role a nipple
between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. 'fucking
lovely tits.' he muttered as my mouth once again slipped
over his flagpole of a dick. In the great scheme of
things big cocks don't matter to me much, but visually I
find them a turn on. His jutted out from his scrawny
groin in quite an aggressive way its broad head exposed
and taut.
I bobbed my head up and down on his cock with genuine
desire. My victim lay across the passenger seat and I
felt his hand tugging my skirt up till it was round my
waist, followed by his thick fingers, unhindered by my
delicate french knickers, probing my moistening cunt.
The phone began to ring again. It rang off then almost
immediately sounded again. Abandoning his exploration of
my nether regions Brian hit the answer button. Gary's
voice again filled the cab as Brian's fingers resumed
their manipulation of my clitoris.
As he rambled on, Brian's digits suddenly found the
spot. I let out an involuntary 'oh yes, that's it' and
there was silence on the other end of the phone. My
husband's voice demanded 'have you got a bird with you'?
I could tell he was more curious than angry, but Brian
stuttered a denial as I continued to gobble his cock. A
few more words were exchanged when Brian broke off mid
sentence gasping 'bloody hell' as I teased the eye of
his dick with my tongue.
'You have got a woman there' shouted Gary. 'What's going
on?'
Rather sheepishly Brian admitted he was getting a blow
job. Instead of pulling rank, my husband the boss wanted
to know who she was, how had we met and was Brian going
to get a fuck. All this was on loud speaker in the cab
and I knew by his voice that Gary was intrigued by the
situation. He continued to question my driver about me,
what I looked like, what I was wearing and asking Brian
to describe what he was doing to me, then encouraging
him to 'give her a bloody good fucking.' It was
gratifying to hear Brian breathlessly describe me as a
classy looking city bird called Joanne he'd met at the
services.
'Ask her to say hello to me' said Gary. Lifting my mouth
off Brian's engorged bell end, I shouted 'hello' in the
posh girly accent I'd affected in my earlier
conversation with Brian and hoped my husband wouldn't
recognise my voice. Clearly he didn't but was excited by
this remote voyeuristic situation and asked me if I
regularly got picked up by drivers. 'No' I replied 'but
it's always been a fantasy of mine, and today I made it
happen. Do you think I'm a bad girl?'
'You're the best sort of girl,' responded my husband in
a choked voice 'Are you going to let him fuck you?'
'Oh I think I should, don't you? he's got a huge dick,
much bigger than my husbands. Do you want to listen and
jerk off, while he gives it me?' There was no answer
from the phone and I was suddenly aware that Brian's
tongue was vigorously lapping at my left nipple in the
same rhythm as his fingers stimulating my cunt.
He manoeuvred me onto my back along the passenger seats
of the cab, pulled off my skirt and knickers and I felt
the end of his cock pushing at the greasy folds of my
fanny. It slid in without a pause and I was aware of his
bollocks resting against my arse. 'Oh that is so good' I
exclaimed 'are you still listening Mr Bossman, your
driver has nine inches of fat dick in me and it feels
brilliant. Come on big boy fuck me senseless!'
With that Brian began to piston his prick in and out of
me all the time slurping on my tits with his big lips. I
had my one leg over his shoulder and the other foot
wedged against the steering column. The springs in the
seating squeaked in unison with the squealching of my
vagina and the slap of his balls against my behind. As
no strings fucks go it was pretty impressive and with
the added frisson of having my husband listening and
probably wanking, I was well into it meeting every
thrust and then clenching the vaginal wall as the
drivers thick cock withdrew.
No doubt I was muttering and moaning as his tool rammed
relentlessly back and forth, but from the phone my
unsuspecting husbands voice applauded. 'Go on Donk make
her fucking squeal, she's some hot tart, send her home
to her husband full of spunk. The dirty slut.' Panting I
pushed Brian off. 'Let me turn round, fuck me doggie
fashion.'
One leg kneeling on the seat the other on the cab floor
I bent over to present my arse
to his dick. Without ceremony he guided it to the
entrance and again bottomed it out in one thrust before
recommencing if anything a more frantic pace.My face was
against the side window of the cab as he battered my
cunt. As he ploughed my thighs and tweaked my nipples, I
felt the unmistakable first spasm of orgasm, shuddering
in a few more relentless piercings to a full blooded
convulsive conclusion. Lipstick smeared the glass as my
face distorted against it in unconcerned abandon.
"Arrg God!" I groaned as the wave subsided.
He too paused mid stroke.
With a belch of smoke and a rattling roar the diesel
engine of the lorry parked in front of us sprang into
life and in the next second it was gone, giving a clear
view of the tea hut and the tea hut an equally clear
view of us.The three men standing there momentarily were
oblivious to us, but the chap in the hut pointed our
way. Donk was slowly resuming his metronomic rhythm.
'Fucking hell' he said as the men began to approach.
'Don't stop' I said . Soon they were grouped around the
cab standing on the steps to look in. Laughing and
joking they shouted encouragement to Donk and asked if
it was their turn next. I attempted what was meant to be
a winsome smile as my face was once more pushed against
the window. 'Whats going on?' demanded my husband's
voice from the phone.
'We've got an audience gaffer,' muttered Brian without
missing a stroke. 'And I'm just about to shoot my load.'
As if on cue he jammed his knob against my cervix and I
felt the spurts of jism spattering my insides. To the
cheers of our observers I turned and took his softening
tool in my mouth and licked it clean. 'What's
happening?' demanded Gary.
'She's sucking my dick clean boss.' said Brian.
'What a filthy slut you've found there you lucky
bastard,' murmured his boss, 'I wish I knew her.
I sat up 'Maybe Brian will introduce me to you one day,
you may be surprised. Bye.' I switched the phone off. As
the men outside stared at me hoping for more action, I
wound down the window. 'Shows over now boys, maybe next
time.'
Brian struggled into his trousers, started the truck and
swung it out onto the highway. In minutes we were back
at the services. I had managed to put on my blouse and
skirt, put my knickers in my bag and had a semblance of
order about me.
I climbed out of the cab, again to the inquisitive
stares of the drivers of other wagons.
'Thanks Brian, maybe we can do this again? do you have
any workmates who would fancy a bit of fun with us, but
not your boss ok. Maybe I'll call you sometime. You can
tell your boss what a good time you had though.'
Later that evening it was interesting to hear how Gary
had listened as Donk had been fucking the arse off some
cheap slut he had picked up on the Motorway services.
To be continued in part 2...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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