The Oddest of Paybacks Ch. 02: Lara

The Oddest of Paybacks - Chap 2: Lara

Quick recap:

Wife had affair

Told me about it

Kicked me out

Out of some odd sense of retribution, I sought out one of her college friends and slept with her

Now I'm trying to sleep with all of them

--

Again, not really sure what kind of payback this is. Should the wife even find out, I doubt she'd care, other than to cut the women out of her life. I wonder if that'd even bother her.

But it would bother the women. That's what made conquering Rey so easy. She and wifey were already on the outs and she was single after two failed marriages and a lifetime of bad decisions.

The rest of them would be far more difficult. Almost all were married - though not all happily - and all consider wifey one of their closest and dearest. Despite them loving me and telling me they think she done me wrong, they'll be 100% Team Wifey in public. I wouldn't expect anything else, nor would I ask them to not be. I understand how these things work.

But that doesn't mean there isn't an opportunity to prey upon their sympathies in a clandestine way that allows them to cross a line while safely knowing their secret is safe.

Rather than choosing targets, I chose opportunities. Lara would be the next target, assuming she and I were still going to the all-day music fest together.

Lara and I went way back, although not as far as she and wifey, who were in kindergarten together, besties in high school, champion badminton partners, and maid/matron of honor in each other's weddings. To say they were tight was an understatement.

But Lara and I had something; 30+ years of flirting, innuendo and infrequent drunken or drug-induced, ass-grabbing, groping, kissing and fondling. There was one new year's eve where I had my hands down her pants, another where the four of us were making out together - each with our respective spouse - in varying states of undress and lingerie on a Vegas hotel bed.

Before I started dating wife, and while Lara had broken up with the man she now called her husband, she and I even went on two dates. I look back at those as opportunities squandered as I had no game and probably could have made out a little better with some confidence and gumption.

But that man was now her husband and while they've had their ups and downs, they seem to be in it for the long haul. And he's a great guy, one of my closest friends. Was I really going to try and do this?

Her husband was somewhat aware of how Lara and I would sometimes cross a line. I don't know if she told him or how much she told him, but he's not an idiot. He maybe turned a blind eye since we were all married. I could only assume with my flirtatious history and word out that my marriage was mid-crumble, he might be more alert.

Which is why I doubly shocked when Lara said she was still game for the fest if I was, and that hubby wasn't joining us. In fact, he had left town to visit his brother, a troubled soul on the west coast with a few trips to rehab and more than a few relapses under his belt.

I had misgivings, but I also had my mission. Lara was going to be a tough one to crack, but this opportunity might never avail itself again. I had to go for it.

And as usual, there was rain in the forecast. I would be prepared as always, and this year, use it to my advantage.

Lara was excited to go, and especially to pop THC gummies all day long. She already teetered on being a high-functioning alcoholic, adding THC into the mix could go well for me. I suggested she drive to my apartment and prepare to stay the night. It will be easier for us to hop on the L to get back from the fest, than for her to deal with overpriced Ubers or a commuter train filled with drunken teens.

But that was part two of my plan. Part one was how I adjusted my rain poncho.

Usually these festivals let you bring in all sorts of stuff, like a backpack and a rain poncho. I bought a new one that wasn't clear and carefully opened up the neck to accommodate her head and mine. I then rested my Ziploc of gummies on my head and donned my floppy hat.

As a bald, former ginger with fair skin, I take sun protection very seriously. I was going to wear the hat anyway. The beauty of it is if they asked me to take it off, I would just grab it at the top, clutching the baggie as I lifted. But they never asked. I'm 56 and dressed like it; no one searches nerds.

She parked and walked up to the front door of the brownstone where my apartment was on the third floor. I realized, she would be my first visitor of any kind. I hadn't told anyone, including my brother or my mom what had gone down. The only people who knew, were people wife told. It was a little bit awkward.

She had a small bag with her, but wasn't sure about staying over. I of course offered no pressure and said she was welcome to come back and clear her head while traffic died down if she wanted to drive home tonight. But I knew her pretty well, she wasn't all that good at restraint when it came time to party.

So, we ate some gummies, chugged a beer and headed to the L.

The train car got more and more crowded as it got closer to the park where the festival was. Each stop, people of all kinds piled on, all of them clearly heading to the same destination. Attire was wild and varied and as Lara pressed into me tighter and we made subtle comments about the nearly naked youth surrounding us, I got to appreciate what she was wearing.

It was a maroon dress that stopped just above mid-thigh. It wasn't revealing, but was a mix of solid material and a wide-open lace pattern for increased breathability. A smart choice as it was going to be hot and very muggy, with the threat of rain upping the humidity.

It didn't appear she was wearing a bra as her modest breasts seemed to move freely underneath. And I could tell the gummies were starting to hit her when she leaned into my ear and told me for a more comfortable day in the heat, she wasn't wearing panties either.

I think she was also being nice about not mentioning my erection that immediately sprang up into her thigh when she said it. The gummy might have dulled my response, but I'm a bigger guy and it hadn't quite hit me yet.

And then we were there, exiting the L with the masses, moving as a large group from the L stop to the park, making our way through security lines, wristband lines, water station refill lines, beer lines and finally we were in front of a stage swaying to the beat.

And the drugs had started to take hold.

We drank beer and water and took a few side trips to the porta-johns. We also kept ingesting gummies and drinking beer. I know I was approaching pretty fucked up and while Lara probably drank more often than me, she was much smaller than me and we had been matching beer for beer, gummy for gummy. If I was approaching, she had careened past.

It became more apparent as she attempted to tell me which stage she wanted to go to next. Her staggered gate matched her slurred speech as she implored me to go with her, grabbing my hand and pulling me along. It was getting dark, darker than it should have been at that hour and I noticed it had more to do with the ominous clouds rolling in than the time of day.

But we made it to the stage and had a pretty good spot when we felt the first drops. I immediately went to my backpack and produced the altered poncho and pulled it on over both of us, her back pressed against my front. The moment was here.

The rain never got torrential and we stayed mostly dry. But what I didn't consider was the hood. I tried pulling the back of the poncho up to extend it over Lara's head too, but it just wasn't happening and her thick blond locks were slowly getting soaked. It actually made her look even sexier than I already found her and my brain being addled, I told her so.

"I've never had sex outside or in the rain," she replied. "I think I should probably do that before it's too late."

I just gulped and agreed while noticing that the crowd around us at the stage had increased and we were getting packed in like we were on the L. Only now, no one could see my front pressing into Lara's sweet, sweet ass. Nor could they see the erection pressing the front of my shorts forward and nestling nicely into the material of her dress over her crack. I was loving it.

And she might have been loving it too. She kept pressing in and leaning her head back against my shoulder, allowing the soft rain to land on her upturned face. It was incredibly sexy to me and with my inhibitions lowered and the poncho hiding us from the neck down, I slowly started to wrap my arms around her, hands meeting at her navel, then slowly moving up.

She just kept pressing into me, face up, eyes closed, enjoying the rain, the music, the drugs and the moment. I continued up until unbeknownst to the crowd around us, I was gently caressing her supple breasts through the top of her dress.

She never made a move to stop me. She just turned her head toward my ear and moaned loud enough for me to hear, but not enough to draw any attention to those around us, all very focused on the band.

I had groped her boobs one or two times over the years, but nothing like this sensual and prolonged fondling that we were both enjoying. Her breasts were average in size, but felt amazingly pliable in my hands and her nipples were very responsive to my touch. I carefully teased them through the fabric of the dress and I could feel them poking out and straining against the material. It was all I could do to not spin her toward me, duck my head underneath, rip her dress off and just start sucking.

But as high as I was, I maintained composure. She continued to moan into my ear and continued to press her ass back into my crotch, adding a subtle gyration into the mix but again, not enough for anyone to notice through the distraction of the band and the loose-fitting poncho. I gave her nipples a slightly harder pinch and received a sharp gasp in response, before sliding my hands down her sides to the hem of the dress and started to gather.

As I collected material on each side of her, the hemline of the dress continued to rise. Soon her entire bottom was exposed, albeit to no one. The poncho was slightly longer, but long enough that we simply looked like a couple enjoying the moment. I bunched the material together at her back in one hand, while the other explored her bottom. It was smooth and as I gripped it, she let out yet another moan, this one a little but louder, but still no one noticed.

I've also grabbed her ass before, always over jeans or pants and it's always been more of a fleeting thing. To spend an extended time softly rubbing my hand all over it was exquisite torture. But as long as we were humming along and she wasn't objecting, I continued my pursuits and slowly worked that hand around to her belly and the top of what felt like the softest tuft of pubic hair.

I pulled her in a little closer now that my hand was no longer massaging her cheeks, and drifted further down until my middle finger had reached the cleft of her sex. I continued slightly lower and was surprised when she shifted her weight and adjusted into a wider stance, granting me access to her honey pot.

I couldn't believe this was happening, but also wasn't in enough my right mind to think. I just went on instinct and began to gently massage. I was pretty sure I was at her clit and the gasp and small bucking of her hips confirmed it. I continued to rub, slowly increasing pressure and speed, and she kept trying to be quiet and trying not to writhe too much, but the pace of her breathing was increasing.

So I turned it up a notch and slowly allowed my fingers to drift lower and curl up and into her soaking wet pussy.

Now I was fingerfucking her. I wasn't very deep and I didn't go very fast, but with the focus more on insertion that her clit, the make-up of her response changed. Her hips started to undulate under my ministrations and her panting became erratic. I started to figure out that maybe she was one of those women who enjoyed vaginal stimulation over clitoral.

Boy, you think you know someone.

Over the years and many, many TMI conversations she did once say she liked to feel her man. I was starting to understand what she meant. It only became more clear as she struggled to gasp words to me while my fingers enjoyed the warm and wet sanctuary of her box.

"Please, ungh ungh, uuuhhh, please fuck me."

Despite coordinated efforts that were intended to lead to this, I was still flabbergasted - both that the plan was working at all, but also that it was working like this. There was a plan, but this wasn't the plan.

But if you think that stopped me or even gave me pause, well, it didn't.

I kept two fingers inside her while I released her dress, unzipped my fly, and pulled out my absolutely ram-rod rigid cock. It felt great to be out of the constraints of my shorts and even better when I pulled her dress back up over her hips from behind and nestled my naked dick against her naked pussy.

Our angle was not ideal. We still needed to be somewhat upright and the packed crowd did not give us a lot of space. But darkness had fallen and most of the lights - and the folks with us in the crowd - were focused onstage. But I was determined to take this as far as it could go. I removed my fingers from her dripping snatch and with one hand on her hip and the other on my cock, I began maneuvering, pressing into her folds to open her up.

She reached down and pushed the bottom of cock toward her while I pulled back and pressed in at her opening. She bent forward a tiny bit and I could feel her soaked lips part at my head's insistence. I progressed slowly, but once I had established my head inside, I pushed forward with authority and sunk as deep into her scorching pussy as the angle would allow.

She let out a low guttural groan that was drowned out by the music and the crowd to everyone but me. It was easily the most arousing sound I had heard all day and I almost lost control right there. Now, while firmly ensconced in her tight and warm wetness, I grabbed at both of her hips and slowly began to move in and out.

My movements were forced to be slight and subtle. But rather than limit our pleasure, it seemed to enhance it. Her grams and moans became squeaks and squeals, high-pitched expressions of her lustful appreciation of my sparse movements. While I still longed for a night of bending her legs back to her ears and pounding her for all it's worth, something about the forced restraint, the limited strokes, the slower pace that was hotter than anything I'd ever done.

I also cannot rule out the simple fact that after 30+ years of innuendo and teasing and groping and inappropriate moments and sexual tension and the overall assumption that nothing would ever be consummated, we were finally fucking.

Suddenly, everyone's hands went up at the behest of the front man. With everything happening in Lara's brain, it's hard to imagine what prompted her to follow suit, but along with being swept up in our tryst, she maybe involuntarily got swept up in the crowd as well, raising her arms to the sky.

Bad idea in a rain poncho that is also being used to shield the world to the fact that you're in the middle of getting railed.

Instinctively, I reached up to grab her arms and pull them back down, but that only lifted our cover even more. It was only for a fleeting moment, but when your drunk and high and having some of the most intense sex of your life, time's movements are mysterious and incalculable.

I pulled her arms down and the poncho fell back around us. I looked around to see if we had been caught and sure enough, two girls just to my right were giving me gawking smiles. Lara didn't seem to notice, while I sheepishly shrugged my shoulders. One of them even offered me a high five, but I shook my head at the idea of raising my hand again. She gave me a look that said, "I get it," and they both started laughing, before moving away from us through the crowd. Perhaps they thought they were giving us our privacy. Didn't really matter to me. Things were beginning to reach their climax and that was happening whether they were there or not.

Things were becoming more intense and Lara was becoming a little too loud for us to maintain my cover. But at this point, I didn't care and I don't think she did either. I just kept sliding in and out of her slick pussy, forcing the walls open with each thrust, feeling the delicious friction of her hot wet cunt as it formed around my rock-hard dick. I felt her start to tremble and then she began writing more fervently as I felt her pussy flood my cock with cum. That was it for me.

I gave one last push and gripped her ass tight as my balls emptied, rocketing up my shaft and hosing down her insides. It was glorious; better than everything I had ever imagined and fantasized about with her and in more than thirty years of conjuring up masturbatory fantasies, I had imagined a lot.

I stayed buried inside her and holding her tight as I noticed the music had stopped, the rain had stopped and the crowd was mostly dispersing to other stages, while the road crews attended to the equipment for the next act. We just stood there, not moving, basking and waiting for an opportune time to attempt to make ourselves decent enough to leave our spot.

My dick softened and fell out of what I will forever call, "My Disneyland - the happiest place on earth." I moved slightly back and let go of Lara in order to put my member back in my shorts. It was slippery with our cum and I wondered how much wet would be visible on the outside of my shorts once the poncho was off. That's when Lara turned her head toward me and said, "There is a lot of stuff dripping down my legs."

I really didn't know how to respond, but I was put away and decent and her dress had fallen back down to mid-thigh when I asked her if she was ready to remove the poncho. She nodded and I lifted it up and over our heads.

I don't think either of us realized how hot and sweaty it had become under the poncho until it was gone. Waterproof rain gear isn't exactly breathable, and we didn't help by spending most of our time under it fucking. The fresh air against our skin was rejuvenating, Lara even sported some goosebumps on her arms... and probably her upper, inner-thighs due to the added wetness of our blended cum clinging to them.

I still didn't know what to say. I was in disbelief at the whole affair. Lara finally broke the silence.

"I think we should go."

I didn't protest. We remained silent but for directions as we stopped at the porta-johns, then made for the L, the walk to my apartment and finally, my front door.

As we stepped inside, I was more clearheaded than I had been since she had arrived earlier that day. I felt rejuvenated and definitely wanted her to stay the night and continue our liaison. I saw no reason why it couldn't continue. Her husband was out of town and not expecting her home and we had already crossed every line. There was no putting that genie back in the bottle so we might as well push through to morning, or even the next day. I had pining for her for three decades. Now that I had had her, I only wanted her again and again.

I was apparently alone in those sentiments.

"I've sobered up and am going to drive home."

"But it's late and you brought stuff. We can shower up and get a good night's sleep," I pleaded.

"I'm supposed to believe you're going to let me sleep?"

I just looked down sheepishly. She continued.

"Look, everything we did today was amazing. It felt amazing. I loved it all and you know I love you. But also, everything we did today was wrong. I betrayed my husband and your wife. And if I'm being honest, betraying your wife probably bothers me more."

"But she cheated on me and kicked me out. I'm the one who was betrayed and punished for it. It's not your job to stay faithful to a crumbling marriage that isn't even yours."

"Women, just don't see things that way."

A long pause.

"Look, a shower does sound appealing. But if I get naked in this apartment, I can't trust either of us to do the right thing... especially after an afternoon of such incredible wrongness. I have to go."

I stayed silent to see if she'd actually leave, or if she was waiting for me to convince her further.

While I waited, she grabbed her bag and walked out the door.

My plan had come to fruition. I had had amazing sex during a music festival. I had fucked one of my wife's closest friends and a woman I had lusted after for years. I succeeded in every way.

So why did I feel such loss?