Farah’s Revenge – Reginald St. James - Sex Stories

Farah’s Revenge – Reginald St. James

... for all these years. Well, I want it now.”

“You want what I gave Jack?”

“Yes. I want to impregnate you.”

“Can you give me what he gave me?”

“You can find out this evening.” He laughed crudely. “For years, I saw your thick nipples making pokies through your bras and blouses, Farah. I want to suck those gorgeous tits of yours, I want those nipples in my mouth.”

*

When Hossein came home from work, he found me in my boudoir dressing for the evening.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I have a work dinner for the company.”

“I thought you were on maternity leave. And you said you’re not going back.”

“Wrapping things up. It’s a one-night stand.”

Hossain never got my double entendres.

“Who are you having dinner with?”

“Reginald St. James. The chairman.”

“Oh, the old man. No need to worry, then.” He laughed. “Unlike with Jack Grierson. I’m so relieved Grierson is dead and out of your life. Whenever you came home from evenings with him, you looked faint and smelled like you just had sex. Of course, I know you’re a faithful wife, but my imagination made me jealous.”

“You give me all the sex I can handle, Hossein,” I said, patting him on the arm.

“Yes, yes,” he said with a touch of eagerness. “Before you go out to this dinner, can we –”

“I’ve just spent a lot of time on my makeup and my hair, Hossein. Perhaps tomorrow.”

“But seeing you like this, you’ve got me hard. You’re going to wear that sexy bra and thong – lace and silk – ...

... black choker necklace, and platform high heels! And our bed is just there. I can be quick –”

“Oh, you’re always quick,” I said, dryly.

Hossein never got my irony either, so I felt safe using it.

“Tie me up, will you, darling?” I said to Hossein, holding my bra cups on my breasts with the ties of the back strap hanging down by my sides.

Again, he missed the double entendre and tied my bra back strap in a tight little bow.

I put on a white chiffon blouse and buttoned it up. Then I pulled on a tight short skirt and zipped it up.

“That blouse is almost see-through,” he complained. “I can see your bra through it. And the fabric is so thin that your nipples are clearly outlined. And your skirt is so tight, I can see the lines of your panties as you walk.”

“Just lines and outlines,” I said, putting on my big glasses.

When we were first married, Hossein would never have let me go out of the house wearing an outfit like this. But over the years, I’d worked him into mellowness by being a good mother to the children he thought were his – and giving him blowjobs when he least expected them. I always made him cum so quickly that he would exclaim, “Your mouth is like a suction pump!”

I picked up my large purse, checked I had everything I needed, and left.

*

I drove my high-end BMW to the Four Seasons, gave the key fob to the valet, and my coat to the check. My high heels clicked on the marble floor of the lobby to the elevator but were soundless on the thick ...