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Alienated

By: sr71plt



"Just a few more minutes and maybe I can get there," Kat muttered to herself. But tonight would be like the previous two nights. She had Bert flat on his back on the Fort Stockton, Texas, motel bed, and she was riding his cock as he just lay there. Light filtering in through the inadequate curtains from the headlights of passing cars sent the silhouette of her rotating body swirling around the bare walls of the room. But just like the previous night and the night before that, Bert came in three jerks and a satisfied little "Ooof." He pushed her off of him and spooned her into his body in a possessive bear hug, told her he'd been "oh so" good to her, and promptly went into a snoring sleep with his hand on one of her tits.

She'd picked Bert up in Kerrville because he'd come on to her when she stopped in a diner there on her way from San Antonio to what she hoped was a new life in Santa Fe, New Mexico. She supposed that most women couldn't have been seduced by raunchy talk about how big her hips and butt and tits were, but Kat took what compliments she could where she could find them—it wasn't often that these attributes were cited as come-ons. And Bert hadn't lied to her about how big his cock was. She certainly hadn't rejected the idea of hot nights in the sack while she was traveling up highway 285, and, as an added benefit, Bert looked like he might help keep her barely chugging Malibu together until she could get to Santa Fe.

Just her luck, Kat thought, as she lay there in the dark in the Fort Stockton motel, listening to Bert snoring, watching the lights from passing cars play across the walls and ceiling of the room, rubbing her clit to her own half-satisfied conclusion, and feeling very sorry for herself. This was the way her life was going—nothing going right and no full satisfaction. She didn't even know why she was going to Santa Fe. No one expected her there, and she had only half-baked ideas of what she would do there—or why she even was headed there. But then there had been no one to see her off in San Antonio, either. No one to regret her absence or to weep at her departure.

One thing she knew as she laid there, still tense, still wanting something Bert hadn't given her. Bert would be history as soon as she could be rid of him. Having a big cock did her no good if he wasn't interested in giving her satisfaction with it.

By the next afternoon they'd reached just south of Carlsbad, New Mexico, and the Malibu needed gas. The Malibu needed much more help than gas, but that's all Kat was going to give it until it actually broke down. She planned on ditching it as soon as she got to Santa Fe and buying herself a nice little Miata convertible. She'd put entirely too much money into the old Malibu already.

She pulled off 285 at a filling station with a convenience store. As she rolled up to the pumps, a Greyhound bus pulled over to the side of the store and several people got off and went into the store. She handed Bert a credit card and asked him to pump the gas while she went in and bought some cold Cokes for the dry run up the road. She hoped to make it to Artesia before dark. Bert grumbled at her, but she ignored him. They'd been borderline fighting all the way up from Fort Stockton, and she was just about at her breaking point. It mattered not that he was too. If he couldn't pump her right, he could at least pump gas in the car for her.

As she was coming to the register with the Cokes, two of young women who'd come off the bus were there. While one was putting her purchases down on the counter and waiting for the cashier to get off the phone with her boyfriend, the other one was picking a tabloid magazine off the rack in front of the counter.

"Oh, look at this, Massie. This story's about Roswell, just up the road from here."

"Roswell," the other one said. "Ain't that the place famous for the space ship sightings fifty years ago?"

"Yeah, and this article goes along with that. Look here. The headline says 'Escaped from Alien Breeding.' Some woman claimed she was abducted and raped by an alien outside Roswell and that she was carrying its baby. She got an abortion, though."

"Of course she got rid of it before anyone could check her story out. No limit to what they will put in these rags, is there?" Massie said with a giggle. "Just a load of crap."

"Yeah, right," the other young woman agreed. But her laugh wasn't quite as genuine, and when she put the tabloid down, she put it on the counter to buy, not back in the rack.

The cashier got another call while Kat was checking out—and, of course, gave that call priority—so it was a few minutes before Kat got out of the store. The Greyhound bus was gone—or at least chugging up the road toward Roswell.

And Bert was gone too. The gas nozzle was still hanging out of the Malibu's tank—having finished filling the car—and when Kat looked into the backseat, she saw that Bert's duffel bag was gone as well. Kat set her gaze on the back of the disappearing bus and thought, "Good riddance." But then it hit her that Bert and his duffel weren't the only things gone. Her credit card was gone too. So what she actually said out loud was "Oh, Shit. Fuckin' bastard." And then she turned and trudged back into the convenience store in search of a telephone so she could cancel her card.

"Not only isn't this my day," she muttered. "This isn't even my life."

Worse, the Malibu choked up and died just short of Artesia when she was stopping at a diner next to a service station for dinner. The only saving grace was that the service station was there and still open and the mechanic owner was still on duty.

When the Malibu died, she got out of it and gave it a good kick. Then she practically melted in embarrassment, because not thirty feet from her, leaning up against a new, gleaming Lincoln Town Car, was the hunkiest man she'd ever seen. Dark, curly hair, a well-worked build of someone who could model clothes for Abercrombie & Fitch, and a handsome face—wearing a little smile at the moment. At her expense, probably.

"Having car trouble?" he asked. The smile remained on his face and looked more friendly and sympathetic now that she thought about it.

"Yes. If I had a gun, I'd shoot it," Kat answered. "Just my luck. I was going to ditch it, but not before it got me to Santa Fe."

"Got folks in Santa Fe?" he asked.

"Not in Santa Fe or anywhere else," Kat answered in an exasperated voice, and then she just sort of collapsed against the fender of her car. "Oh, shit," she said.

"That about covers it, I'd say," the hunky stranger said. But the smile and voice were still sympathetic. "Why don't you try the service station? I think it's still open."

"Thanks," Kat answered. But she didn't move.

"And I'd be happy to stay around until you find out what can be done and to give you a lift if the car can't be saved. I'm on my way to Santa Fe too. Delivering this car to some rich guy up there."

Kat's day was suddenly looking up. A ride into Santa Fe in a luxury car with a luxury hunk. What could be better than that?

The service station owner looked the Malibu over and said he could fix it, given time and delivery of parts, but if she wanted to just junk it, he'd pay her $250 for it.

Kat had already made up her mind, but she was on a roll in the late afternoon, so she countered with, "It's more than half full of gas."

"OK," the station owner said, with a little laugh. "Let's say $260 then."

Another hour and Kat was luxuriating in the leather seat of the Town Car and gliding up the road in the gathering gloom. There had been one moment when Cliff seemed to flash a bit of pique—when Kat set her suitcase down by the trunk of the Town Car—but he recovered quickly and said that they weren't to use the trunk and she could put her case in the backseat with his. After this, though, Cliff was as charming and easy to talk to as he could be. And he threw in a little flirting that got Kat's juices going, although she was sure that he was just being polite.

But maybe not.

Cliff suggested they stop at the lone motel in Hagerman, saying that the annual Pecos Valley Horse Show very likely would have all of the accommodations booked in Roswell, and that it was getting late anyway.

"You're just about in luck," the motel clerk said. "We just have one room left. But the way it's going, that might not be available in ten more minutes."

"Umm, we really would need two rooms," Cliff was saying.

"We'll take it," Kat interjected.

"Well, OK, I guess one room is better than none," Cliff said, with an engaging smile. "But I'll sleep out in the Town Car."

"I wouldn't hear of it. We'll share the room," Kat said. But then she blushed and stammered. "I . . . I . . . mean I'm sure we can make some arrangements. I'm sure even the floor would be more comfortable for you than the backseat of the Lincoln."

Cliff smiled a little enigmatic smile at her. It was a smile that Kat thought could earn him a couple of million dollars in the movies—and that would work on any woman he used it on, if that's what he wanted. It certainly worked with her.

After bringing their suitcases into the motel room, Cliff went back to the car. Kat caught a glimpse of him back at the trunk of the car, and she thought he was unlatching it, but then she thought this wasn't any of her business—that she was probably unfulfilled partially because she didn't just accept what came her way. Cliff was all smiles when he returned and wondering if they would be able to find any decent wine in this town.

A diner was attached to the motel, and Kat was amazed that they actually found two bottles of wine to serve, which just about covered the taste of the burnt dinner. Throughout Cliff was as charming and attentive to Kat as ever. As they were leaving the diner, Kat drew back and emitted an "Ugh," when she saw a cockroach scurry across the floor and stop at her feet. She lifted a shoe to see if she could crush it.

"No, don't do that," Cliff suddenly blurted out at her elbow. "Just one of God's creatures."

And then she looked on with surprise, as Cliff leaned down and tapped on the floor between the cockroach and the open diner entrance and then again, closer to the entrance, and the cockroach followed the sound of his tapping and scurried out the door.

Kat had never known anyone like this. Not only a melting hunk, but he cared for life—all life—that much. He was just too good to be true, but she was done with questioning and doubting. She knew she'd open her legs to him at the bare mention of interest.

When they returned to the room and, only turning on a dim light near the door, Cliff took Kat in his arms and kissed her, she was lost to him.

He unbuttoned and spread her blouse—she was braless—as they were kissing, and then he arched her back and lowered his lips to the coin-sized nipples in her pendulous breasts and fed on her. Kat clung to his bulging biceps with her hands and moaned and sighed for him and pushed her pelvis into his and felt the thick hardness of him there.

They rocked back and forth and Kat raised her legs and hooked them on his hips and undulated her pelvis against him and made deep mewing sounds in her throat. She had no doubt that he would take her if he wanted her. She was already flowing more for him than she had managed for Bert while she was rotating on his joy stick.

All the time Cliff was whispering about how full-bodied a woman she was. How he loved her breasts and the curve to her wide hips. He ran the palm of his hands under her skirt and then under the waistband of her panties, and he was cupping her buttocks in his hands and murmuring about how nice and full they were. How well formed she was for lovemaking and breeding. How much he wanted to make love to her.

Kat just sighed and moaned—she didn't say yes or no, but her responses to him said all he would need to know.

Cliff frog marched her over to the bed, as she still clung to his midsection, and lowered her gently down at the foot of the bed, her buttocks on the edge, and, with his hands still inside her panties, pulled them down and over her legs. He unbuttoned her skirt and pulled that down as well, and then all Kat was wearing were her garter belt and nylons and the high-heeled shoes she had changed into before dinner.

Standing between Kat's spread legs, Cliff flipped off her shoes and reached for the clips on her garter belt, and Kat helped him unsnap those. Then he slowly wound the nylons off her legs, kissing down her legs, one after the other, as they were rolled down.

Then, with his eyes holding hers in the half-light of the room, enough light now for her sense of sight to be as on the edge of passion as her sense of touch, Cliff slowly ran his hands back up her legs, one on each leg, and across her thighs, and to the very center of her.

Kat arched her back and moaned a deep moan as his hands met at her mound and his thumbs slowly parted her labia on each side.

Kat groaned and lifted her pelvis to him.

He was giving her that movie star smile of his. "Please, mam, may I?" He gave a little laugh, a half-mocking laugh. His thumbs were opening her wide and rubbing on her labia, and Kat was trembling uncontrollably.

"Oh, god, oh, god, yes," she was gasping.

And then Cliff went down on his knees between her thighs and his lips and tongue went to her cunt, and his tongue continued on inside her and latched onto her clit. And Kat was writhing under him and fireworks were going off in the room in a rolling orgasm such as she'd never felt before.

When she was calm and mellow again, and sighing heavily at an experience such as none other she'd ever felt, Cliff stood up, but remained standing between her spread legs—and slowly undressed. His body was magnificent, and he had a hard cock that put Bert's to shame.

Kat reached for it and tried to pull it down into her, but Cliff laughed again and gently pushed her hands away and picked up her legs and alternated in kissing up them from the feet again until he had worked his way into the center. And then he was feasting on her cunt again, and she was writhing and groaning and trembling, all wet and slick and flowing, and she had her second orgasm.

That familiar laugh and then he was licking and nibbling up her belly and working her breasts with his hands and mouth and she was writhing again and holding him close to her and begging him to fuck her.

He came up beside her rib cage with his knees and palmed his hands at the back of her head and brought her face up to his cock and she opened her mouth to him. She'd never done this before for a man, but he wasn't just any man. He wasn't of this world. She'd never had a man like this. No man had given her an orgasm before—let alone two—before he'd even got his cock inside her. And so she opened her mouth to him and let him work her head back and forth, making him even larger than he'd been before, as she clung to his perfect butt cheeks with her hands.

He didn't do this very long, though, just long enough to be sure that she was totally his. And then he slid back down her body, his prodigious cock dragging down her center line until she felt in move across her belly and slip over her mound.

He gathered one of her legs up to his shoulder and held the other one out wide, and just glided into her—at least three inches, that is. He had prepared her well, but he was enormous and it still took him some time, and a stop and go movement up her channel as she stretched to him, and his whisperings of sweet endearments to fill her to the quick.

And then he was fucking her in long, smooth strokes, reaching into the depths of her, as she continued to flow around him, lubricating his action. He brought his cock head back out to the surface and pushed it against her clit and started a rubbing and rotating motion that had her crying out at the taking and gave her a third orgasm. Then he dove slowly back into her to the quick, and it was just at the moment that she realized that he wasn't sheathed that he bathed her insides with great spoutings of his cum—and then she didn't care.

He leaned down over her body and took her lips in his and they kissed deeply, and then he pulled them back to her tits and sucked on her nipples as his cock was rejuvenating inside her. Kat had thought, with some sense of regret, that they were finished when he ejaculated, but as she felt him rise again, she realized that this wasn't so, and a guilty little thrill of wantonness ran through her body.

Cliff rotated her body on his cock until she was bent over the bed, with her feet on the floor. He cupped her breasts with his hands and started to pump deep inside her again. She sighed and rotated her wide hips, increasing the friction on his cock and groaned at the gasp he gave for that. She was falling into the rhythm of the fuck and moving in perfect rhythm with him when Cliff pulled his cock out of her.

But he wasn't finished. He was moving the cock head to her other channel. And he'd moved a hand down to her cunt and was gathering up the lubricating fluids she and he had created there and was fingering her asshole with his wet fingers.

Kat lurched and went tense.

"Uh. Cliff. I don't think . . . I've never . . ."

"Hush, babe," he bent down and whispered in her ear. "You'll love it. I give incredible ass fuck. You'll never forget it."

"Oh, god. No. I don't . . . Oh, god. OH GOD!"

Kat screamed out as Cliff entered her ass with his cock. But he was bringing her back up to his chest. One arm was running up her belly with a hand clutching a breast and squeezing, and the other hand covered her face, the heel muffling her mouth and two fingers squeezing her nose, so that she was thinking more about where her next breath was coming from than about the hot poker stretching and moving up her ass canal.

She struggled against him until there was no more struggle in her and he was buried to the hilt inside her ass. He was whispering in her ear to relax and that it would be all right—that she would love it this way. That she would never feel this filled and possessed before.

And as she stopped struggling, he moved his hand to under her chin, still holding her body arched up to his. He was kissing and nibbling her on the ear and whispering to her about how perfect her body was—her wide hips and flaring buttocks and how wide her channels had opened to him. And then he started slow pumping her with his cock and he moved the hand from her breast down to her cunt and found her clit, and Kat was shooting to paradise again. Cliff had not lied to her. She had never been taken as completely and intimately as this before.

He filled her as fully with his cum in her ass as he had done in her other channel.

Then, Kat completely exhausted and almost ready to pass out, Cliff gathered her in his arms and stretched her out on her belly on the bed, and she felt him leaving her.

But before he did, he was sitting next to her and putting some pills in her mouth and putting a glass of water up to her lips—and she drank without thinking, and the pills went down. She turned to ask him what the fuck that was all about, but the words didn't reach her lips. She felt herself drifting into sleep.

In the night, she came half awake again, as her body was covered by another. Cliff was back, she thought, and she was happy for him to do what he would with her. There wasn't any intimacy left that he hadn't indulged in, and she felt like a fairy princess in what a hunk he was and how he had totally possessed her. She was so groggy, though, that he'd have to do whatever it was himself.

She felt weight on her back and hands coming under her and hold her breasts—and the head of a cock at her asshole. And then, as she flipped into never-never land, hands holding her hips and hands holding her thighs and a second cock head at her cunt. And, the hands holding her firmly in place, both cocks were entering her simultaneously and sliding to the depths and pumping her.


Alienation of Affection



This is rather a long story and contains no graphic descriptions of sexual activity. The main theme is of reluctantly condoned extramarital sex but does end somewhat differently from my usual fare. 

*

My boss waved me to the chair in front of his desk and, with a relaxed smile on his handsome face, invited, "You don't often ask to see me Doug, so this is an unexpected pleasure. What can I do for you?"

This was possibly the most important moment of my life. Taking a deep breath, I laid out my case, "I need a pay rise badly. Salaries have been frozen for three years now and during that period everything has gone up in price, especially petrol and energy. Only electronics have got cheaper and I neither need nor can afford any of that."

Even before I had finished my speech, Dominic was slowly shaking his head. "I've been expecting you. All three of the other department heads have already been to me with the same request, although one was asking for his staff rather than himself. I'm sorry Doug but I'm afraid that I have to give you the same answer that I gave them, it's out of the question."

"But I think I'm a special case. If you listen to my situation you're bound to see it too." I insisted, a feeling of panic swelling up inside me.

"Doug, over the past three years, although we haven't replaced natural wastage there have been no compulsory redundancies and the company wants to keep it that way. It's a simple equation; more money for some means no job for others. Do you want to see someone sacked? 

For over forty years, house prices had risen almost constantly and so had salaries. This meant that couples could over extend themselves when buying a property in the knowledge that, within three or four years, increased wages would reduce mortgage costs to manageable proportions. My misfortune was to buy just before this benevolent period came to a sudden end.

"I'm really desperate Dom," I told him, "If I don't earn more money I'm going to lose everything. I'm already two months in arrears on my house payments and if I slip behind one more time I'm going to lose it. What makes it worse is that at the moment I've got massive negative equity." 

"About forty grand?"

Dom had nailed the amount so exactly that I immediately became suspicious and, stepping outside my supplicant role, I said sharply, "Have you been investigating me, I don't see how you could possibly know the deficit so exactly?"

My boss wasn't fazed by my switch in attitude. Smiling disarmingly, he explained, "Just an inspired guess, Doug. I know what houses in that area were selling for at the time you bought yours and I know what they are on offer for now, so depending on how good a deal you got, your loss has to be somewhere between thirty and fifty thousand." 

For a moment I considered apologising for my outburst but decided instead to press my case by saying, "So you see what a desperate position I'm in. Within the next three months I won't be able to meet my mortgage and then I'll be in a really in the shit. I need some sort of help, Dom."

Dominic sat for a while without responding, a speculative look on his face and when he did speak it took me by surprise when he asked, "Your lovely wife Carol doesn't work does she?"

I shook my head. "With two children under five she doesn't have much chance."

"Not even part time?"

"Carol has tried looking but the only stuff available around us is either cleaning or shop work and that doesn't pay much more than the baby sitting fees we would need to lay out. Any job has to be within walking distance because we had to let her car go over a year ago." 

"That's the root of your problem," my employer advised, (stating the bleeding obvious), "In the current economic climate very few can maintain a household on the basis of only one income."

"I know exactly what the problem is," I managed to say calmly, "I don't know how to get out of the situation, that is why I've had to come to you as a last resort."

Dominic again went into prolonged pensive mode before saying, "I may have a solution but you won't like it, in fact I very much doubt if you will accept."

His words were like a bright beacon shining through dark cloud laden skies. Interrupting whatever he was going to say, I assured him, "Any thing, I'll do anything to get out of this mess."

There was a certain glint in my employer's eye as he warned. "Don't be too sure. What I am about to say is for discussion and nothing we say today will be committing on either side."

"Yes, yes," I urged him on, eager to know what formula he had that might make my financial problems magically go away.

"For the past two years I've been entitled to employ a personal assistant but as yet I haven't availed myself of the opportunity, primarily because I didn't want to put further burden on the company in these stringent times," he explained slowly. "My idea is that your wife could work for me. When chatting to her last Xmas, I gathered that she used to work in Human Resources, so she should have all the necessary skills." 

"That would me fantastic," I started to enthuse but Dom held up a hand to stop me.

"Don't get too excited until you hear the whole deal," he cautioned. "When I say 'personal assistant' the stress is very much on the 'personal'. As you know I travel abroad the last weekend of every month, I will expect her to accompany me and we are likely to get very close on those occasions."

It took me a moment to grasp what he was saying but then the anger surged up in my head, "Are you saying that as part of this deal you expect to fuck my wife?" I shouted.

Dom remained undisturbed by my rage flushed face. "That effectively is the deal but I wouldn't have phrased it quite so crudely."

"So how the hell would you say it?"

"While we are away, there might be occasions when Carol and I will have to share the same room. It is what's referred to a 'plausible deniability', depending on the needs of your peace of mind; you might prefer to believe that such occasions will never arise."

"But you do intend to have sex with her at every chance you get?" I said coldly.

Dom smiled, "As I just pointed out it wouldn't be fair to answer that question, you must think whatever you want."

Speaking through gritted teeth, I told him, "My thinking in that situation doesn't arise because I'm rejecting your 'kind' offer out of hand." 

My boss seemed completely unbothered by my angry reply as he said, "That's a great pity because I think we could both had got a lot of benefit from such a deal, although I can understand why you feel bound to refuse."

We at in silence looking at each other as if both realised there was more to be said. When he didn't seem inclined to be the first one to speak I said, "Over the past eight years we have got on well, I regarded you as almost a friend and thought you had the same regard for me. I don't understand why, if this PA job was available, you didn't help me out by offering it to Carol without the sex conditions?"

"What you say is very true but the simple fact is that I didn't get to where I am in the world by looking gift horses in the mouth," Dom said affably, "Throw in the fact that I've never desired a woman as much as I do your wife. She's truly exceptional and you are a very lucky man."

"Haven't you got any conscience at all?" I asked scathingly.

"Of course I have," Dom said smugly, "I think of myself as a pretty decent guy but in this case the pangs of conscience were completely smothered by thoughts of the pleasure I hoped to enjoy." "You can stick your fucking offer," I told him bluntly.

My employer took the rejection philosophically, saying, "I didn't expect any other answer but I had to try." While speaking, Dom rose to his feet and walked to the door with me following. Once there he stuck out his hand and said, "I hope this won't adversely affect our working relationship?"

My inclination was to punch him on the nose but instead I shook the proffered hand. I quickly grabbed hold of the door handle, now eager to escape the scene of my humiliation, but before I could turn it Dom reached forward to stop me saying, "You never know, you might change your mind after talking it over with your delectable wife. Tell you what, why don't you take the rest of the week off as free holiday, that should give you plenty time to discuss all the pros and cons. The offer remains open until Saturday. If Carol wants the job, she should meet me that night for dinner at The Peacock hotel. That's eight o'clock sharp. Tell her that we will have a quiet dinner and then I will take her up to the room I've booked for a formal interview. "

I have a knack for maths and logic so it was natural for me to go into programming and systems analysis as a career. I progressed quickly and six years ago I took up my current position as head of a computer department, moving area to do so. The downside is that now I am mainly engaged with administration with little opportunity to write the clever code that used to give me so much pleasure. 

I'm aged thirty-four with my wife Carol two years younger. Most men believe that their wives are beautiful but I think I can objectively claim that mine truly is. She is slightly too rounded to be a classical model and her exceptional beauty probably rules her out for media work so she settled for an occupation that depended more on brains that beauty. We both worked for my previous employer in different departments but had to frequently liaise on a project I was engaged on. She was so far out of my league that I had no pretensions and was more than happy to settle for a platonic friendship but fortunately, the fact that I didn't present a threat, somehow endeared me to her. Later she told me that compared to other men, she found my company 'relaxing' and it was her who set the ball rolling by hinting, "If you want to ask me out for a drink, I will accept you know." We never discussed our previous histories but I always assumed that her early experience were roughly equivalent to my only average number of successes. From when were married up to the start of the events related here, we enjoyed eight very happy years.

I suppose that I should also include a description of my immediate boss Dominic. I consider myself reasonably tall at six foot but he has at least three inches on me. He is also more heavily built and has more of an athletic bent than I, with his main two leisure pastimes being squash and golf. His other assets are that he is good looking, confident and I reluctantly have to admit charismatic. From the start I admired his laid back style and I thought we had an easygoing, friendly, working relationship.

When I arrived home I found Carol waiting expectantly for me. "He can't give me a raise but he did offer to employ you as his PA," I told her, the news causing her face to light up with joy. "Don't get excited because it's not straight forward and you can't possibly accept. For a start he goes abroad for a couple of days every month and he will expect you to accompany him." 

The grin remained on my wife's face, "Better and better, I always wanted to travel."

"You'll be sharing a room. He's expecting that you will sleep with him while you're away."

"He can expect as much as he likes but he won't be getting anything from me," Carol said firmly but with the smile still planted on her face.

"You don't understand," I said desperately, "Sex is part of the deal, if you don't agree to let him fuck you then there isn't any job."

I didn't know how I thought my wife would react to this news but I certainly didn't expect her to laugh. "The slimy, devious bastard," she said. 

"He's certainly gone down in my opinion," I agreed.

"I might have expected something like this," Carol said thoughtfully, "At the firm's last year Xmas party, he couldn't drag his eyes out of my cleavage and, although I only danced with him those two times, I still got a bruise from where his cock kept prodding me."

"So what do you think?"

"At least Dom is an attractive man, not small, fat and balding like Mr Sugden, the last boss I worked for. Not that he ever made a move on me, although I know he would have liked to."

I couldn't help feeling that my wife wasn't really treating this seriously, so I set down my marker by telling her firmly, "I think it's out of the question. What about you?"

"I agree, in fact it is so ridiculous that it's not even worth talking about," Carol said happily, adding, "We'll just gave to solve our financial problems some other way." 

Spontaneously we both jumped to our feet to throw our arms each other and indulge in a prolonged embrace. From there, of one mind, we quickly moved to the bedroom for a rare night of passion. For the past year, mounting fiscal worries seemed to have significantly dampened both our libidos, we still had sex but it was more coming together to satisfy a need than fucking just for pure pleasure, as we had done so much in our early years. I'm not sure what inspired us but it was certainly a night to remember and lying still entwined afterwards, Carol whispered tenderly to me, "I never want to have sex with any other man but you."

Next morning it seemed strange being still at home when it wasn't a weekend or holiday. I found something to occupy me, mainly amusing the kids, but it wasn't until they had settled down around 11a.m that Carol and I found time to sit down with a mug of coffee. I had barely taken a first sip when my wife said, "I don't know if you've thought any more about what we were talking about but I have and I know we are in a terrible mess. Up to now I haven't worried too much because I felt fairly confident that your big dicked boss would manage to bail us out if the worst came to the worst."

I actually hadn't given it any thought but only by deliberately excluding the subject from my mind. Now I seized on one word from my wife's small speech to ask, "How do you know that Dom has a large dick?" 

"I don't. I've no real idea how big it is but it was certainly bloody hard. As I told you last night, it felt like a bar of iron poking in to me," Carol explained, with a touch of irritation in her voice. "Anyway, don't try to change the subject because this is serious. I've been adding up all the outgoings for the next few months and even with no unexpected bills turning up, we can't possibly meet the mortgage in June. It may take several more months before they get round to evicting us but we are going to end up out on the street if we can't find some way out." 

"I hope you're not thinking of accepting Dom's offer," I asked disbelievingly.

Ignoring my question, Carol carried on, "If we do lose the house then nothing will ever be the same again. Paying off the equity will mean living in rented accommodation for years. It's bound to be a far smaller property than we have here and in a far poorer area."

"We'll survive," I told her, not really believing that myself.

"We got to look at this from all angles and not treat it as a single issue," my sensible wife insisted. "And it's not just a matter of us, we've got to think of the children and the schools they will finish up going to. I think they could be badly bullied in a rough school."

"It doesn't bear thinking about," I agreed rather pointlessly.

"I'd do anything to get us out of this mess; I can't bear the thought of losing everything."

"Are you suggesting that we accept the offer?"

"Of course not, I'm just saying that I'll take any kind of job if it brings in some money."

"That's a relief," I said, forcing a smile.

"All the same it is very tempting, As long as we both love each other, does a bit of meaningless sex with another man have any real significance?"

"This isn't just a one time thing, if it was I might agree with you but if we accept, Dom will be having sex with you at least twice every single month." I said calmly, "Even if you did sacrifice yourself, we don't really know if it would help, we're not even sure how much you would get paid or how many hours you would be expected to work."

"I hadn't thought of that," Carole admitted, "I wouldn't want to do full time and be separated from the kids so much. Look, I don't think there's much point in talking about this until we know all the details, perhaps you should go in and see Dom tomorrow and ask him."

"But we are not accepting no matter what he says," I tried to clarify.

"I thought we had agreed that already but it would be nice to see exactly what he's prepared to offer." 

The above conversation actually took place on and off over several hours. Other stuff was said which I've forgotten but that is the gist of it. Later on we made love on two successive nights for the first time in more than a couple of years. Next morning I rang Dom and asked to see him and he told to come in immediately, He sounded very cheerful.

When I knocked on his door, Dom actually came to open it himself, shook my hand enthusiastically and ushered me to the chair, saying, "This is a very pleasant surprise, I didn't expect you back quite this soon." 

Speaking quickly to prevent any confusion, I explained, "I haven't come to accept your offer. I just want to sort out some details, such as how much salary would my wife be getting and how many hours would she be expected to work?"

It was obvious that my boss was well prepared. Picking up a piece of paper he said, "Approximately two thirds of what you get. That is right at the top of the range for that grade because I'm sure she's going to be worth it."

"Carole isn't too keen on working much more than part time and that is a full time salary."

There was a look of triumph on Dom's face and I could tell he thought he was playing an ace. "How about full time pay for effectively part time hours?"

"I don't understand."

"When your wife goes away with me she will be paid from leaving the house until she gets home again. Usually my trips are for two days, occasionally just one and very rarely three. For argument let's call that 48 hours. A thirty five hour week is 140 hours a month, take away 48, divide by four and you can see that she will only need to spend twenty-three hours actually in the office each week, that's less than five hours per day. Your lovely wife will be able to take your kids to school in the morning and be back to pick them up at night."

"That wouldn't work," I told him honestly, "As I said, Carol no longer has her own car so she would need to travel to and fro with me." 

"No problem, there's a pool car that is hardly ever used so she could have the use of that until she can afford to buy her own," Dom said complacently.

I had nothing at all to say. My scheming employer had effectively taken the wind right out of my sails. After a minute of silence he prompted, "Are there any other 'details' you would like to clarify?"

Both of us knew to what he was referring but I simply shook my head. At the door he again shook my hand but paused to say, "Tell Carol that if she turns up on Saturday, I will be introducing her to the pleasures of Monte Carlo at the end of the month."

Back home I passed on the new information. I did wonder how Carol would receive the news of Monte Carlo because that was one place she had stated a desire to visit. I have to admit that I had been rather swayed by Dom's clarification, so concluded my statement with the words, "It is a very attractive offer; if it wasn't for the sex stuff it would be perfect."

I thought there was enough appeal in the offer to perhaps discuss it more seriously than we had before, so I was surprised when she said, "I don't like it. I was hoping for a proper job but from what you just said, it's plain that I'd be paid for opening my legs and that would make me little better than a prostitute." 





Alienation of Affection



Rather stunned I had nothing to say and this gave my wife chance to carry on, with a touch of anger in her voice, "And that would make you a pimp, how do you feel about that? When I'm away at the end of each month and you're sitting here all alone, what do you think will be filling your mind, knowing that I will be somewhere, lying on my back with Dom on top of me? For your information I'm pretty sure that his cock is bigger than yours."

"I think I might get used to it," I answered, going on to explain, "A few years ago I had a few conversations with a guy on the internet who claimed that his wife was a call girl. He said that she only worked three nights a week but still earned more than both of them added together doing normal work. I asked him how he felt while she was working and he said it didn't bother him. He did admit that it was awkward the first few times but then it was no different from any other job and what she did had nothing to do with their own private sex life. From other things he said, I gathered that it's all an attitude of mind."

"If you've got ideas of me doing the same thing, you can forget it right now," Carol said sharply but I was relieved to see the smile on her face. Nothing more was said for the rest of the day but we didn't make love that night.

Next day it was Carol who brought the subject up, saying, "I've been thinking that it's foolish to lose the house without a fight. Both of us had sex with other people before we met, so as long as it isn't cheating what's the difference if I do fuck Dom. Looking at it one way, it only seems like a small sacrifice compared to the benefits."

I found that I too had switched position. "I'm not sure if I could continue working for Dom, knowing that he's fucking you every month. I don't think I could stand the smirk on his ugly face. And what if he brags about his conquest or somebody guesses what is going on? "

"You're not being logical," my wife said coolly. "Given his position, Dom has even more to lose than we do so he's bound to b discreet and as for other people guessing, the sex will only happen in other countries so no-one can possibly know. Maybe it may be a bit awkward for you working with him but if I can stand him mauling me every month then you can bloody well put up with that." 

"Are you saying that we should do it," I asked hesitantly.

Carol took a deep breath before saying, " I've decided that I am willing to make the sacrifice, so it all depends on you whether we accept or not."

That night we had more passionate sex than for a very long time and instead of rolling over remained clinging together afterwards. Rather than cheering this rather depressed me because I had a deep down feeling that it was symbolic. Carol fell asleep almost immediately but I lay awake for most of the night with thoughts of the future churning round and round in by brain. It was almost certain that I would agree to let my wife work for Dom but still desperately hoped that I could think of some other alternative.

On Friday we went through the motions of living, working together on different household tasks and even talking about trivial things but with both of us carefully walking on tip toe round the very large elephant in the room. It was mid afternoon, just after we had made a coffee, that I broke down and made a last ditch to change the direction we were inexorably heading by blurting out, "What you said yesterday about us both having had sex with others in the past has nothing at all to do with our current situation. Since we met we have both remained completely faithful to each other, as far as I know, but if you have sex with my boss, that exclusivity will be lost and it's a rather precious thing. It is like virginity in that you can never get it back, once lost it is gone forever."

Carol didn't need any time to formulate a reply. Taking my hand and looking straight into my eyes, she said softly, "Darling, I don't want to lose exclusivity and I don't want to lose the house either but if one of them has to go, for me, it has to be exclusivity every time." 

I knew that this was the moment but couldn't speak until Carole prompted, "So what do you say, shall I go to The Peacock tomorrow or not?"

"I suppose so," I conceded.

Once in bed, I felt a desperate for a physical connection but as soon as I rolled towards her, my wife knocked me back for the first time in a very long while, saying, "You can cuddle me but nothing more please. I'm not looking forward to what I've got to do tomorrow so I'm not in the mood for sex right now. I hope you understand." I did understand but it didn't help and I spent another largely sleepless night, struggling with an irrationally stiff erection. 

First thing Saturday morning I ran the kids round to my parents where they would stay until Sunday afternoon. After returning home, for the rest of the earlier part of the day, we again went through the motions with neither of us making any reference to how the evening would end. As sign of her tension, I couldn't help noticing that Carol kept glancing at the clock almost as often as did I. The final count down started late afternoon when she suddenly jumped up saying, "Suppose that I better start getting ready." 

"What are you going to wear?" I felt that I had to ask.

"I'm not sure yet but I'm certainly not going to dress up for the bastard," Carol said fiercely. 

My wife had a very long bath and then spent over an hour in the bedroom. When she eventually appeared she stood uncertainly in the door way. She may not have dressed up but she most certainly hadn't dressed down. She looked totally gorgeous but I didn't think that an appropriate moment to complement her on her appearance. There was just time for a quick cup of tea and we were on our way. Carol had suggested that I drop her at The Peacock and then go back to collect her when she texted but I had insisted that I would wait for her in the car park.

We were almost there when I heard myself asking what she thought Dom would want her to do. "I've absolutely no idea but he certainly won't be getting any of the special stuff that I only do with you," Carol reassured me.

"But he's bound to be expecting something." At this point I was very close to stopping the car and returning home.

"Doug, stop worrying," my wife said firmly, "I'm planning to give him the minimum, not obviously of course, but with a nice bit of faking I can easily make him think he's getting his money's worth. If I do end up having sex with him regularly it might be a different matter."

By now we were in the car park. Stopping the car, I ran round to her side and we stood facing. My heart was beating like a bass drum and I was finding it difficult to breath. I leaned forward for a kiss but Carol proffered her cheek instead. For a moment I was upset by this but then realised it was to avoid spoiling her lipstick. "Good luck," I mumbled, only later realising what pointless thing it was to say.

Carol also put on a brave face. "Who knows, I might even enjoy it," she said with a grin and then she was walking away from me towards the hotel entrance.

The first hour of waiting wasn't too bad, (the first hour and twenty minutes to be exact), because I knew Carol would be safely in the restaurant. At first I couldn't believe that I was sitting there or that I had agreed to what would happen later, it just didn't feel real. Strangely that tension soon wore off as different things caught my attention and unbelievably there were times when I almost forgot why I was there. But then I got the simple text, 'Job mine, going up to his room in a minute. LUV C' and from that moment everything changed.

I looked up at the widows of the upper stories wondering which his room was. After about five minutes a light came on and I guessed that must be the one but after I had scanned the building for any others, I forgotten exactly which window it was. 

My right knee began to tremble spasmodically, with increasing severity until at one point the leg movement became so violent that I was forced to get out and walk in slow circles round my vehicle until it calmed down. I became so preoccupied torturing myself with mental images of what was happening in that uncertain room that I almost jumped out of my skin when the door suddenly opened and Carol plonked herself down in the passenger seat. "Take me home please," she said.

Little more that twenty minutes had passed since I received that text and this offered hope that nothing had happened but my wife's demeanour suggest otherwise. I had only the one question, "Did he fuck you?"

Carol didn't reply but taking a quick glance sideways as I drove away, I felt sure that she shook her head. At first I was relieved but then had a nasty thought and for the rest of the journey I was trying to work out whether she was telling me that intercourse hadn't occurred or simply indicating that she didn't want to say.

When I stopped outside our home, Carol immediately started to swing her legs outside the car but paused to instruct me, "After you put the car in the garage, put the kettle on love while I give brush my teeth and give my face a quick swill." 

Still anxious I had to wait until Carole returned and taken a sip of tea before she looked at me and said, "Dom is a far more courteous and entertaining man than I thought he would be. He made me laugh several times and two thirds of the way through the meal he still hadn't got round to mentioning the job. In the end I had to introduce the subject myself. Don't worry, I got the job and all the benefits and conditions are the same. I start in the office on Tuesday but Monday I'm shopping for some work outfits. He's given me a company card with £500 credit but I have to pay back whatever I spend out of my first three salaries. "

"And after the meal?" I prompted; worried that she might further delay by relating their conversation in detail.

"He tried to kiss me in the lift up to his floor. Actually he did kiss me and again when we got in the room but he seemed to have changed. In the restaurant he was the perfect gentleman but now he seemed to think he could do whatever he wanted and the smug look on his face irritated me. His hands were all over me but I stopped him. Pushing him away, I told him firmly, 'You aren't exactly an ethical man. I've got little reason to trust you so I'm afraid that you are going to be disappointed tonight. I'm willing to give you a blow job to show goodwill but you aren't going to get your cock in me before my contract is signed sealed and delivered.'" 

I laughed, "How did he react to that?"

"A lot better than I thought he would," Carol told me with a grin. "Actually he went up a lot in my estimation when he said, 'Fair enough, at this point in the game, I'm more than happy with anything that you are prepared to give me. Actually, it's nice to know that I'm dealing with a woman of spirit.'"

"And then?" Even I could hear the croak in my voice.

"It was all rather formal. Dom positioned himself with the backs of his legs touching the bed and dropped his trousers. Then he pushed his underpants down to his knees, he wears boxers like you. He'd already got quite an erection. Oh yes, he even took a pack of tissues out of his shirt pocket and laid it on the bed." . "How big is his cock," I heard myself asking, for some reason I seemed fixated on discovering that information.

"Not that much longer than yours but quite a lot thicker," Carol told me in a factual manner, "Actually, because of that he missed out on the things I do that you particularly like because my mouth was just too full." 

"How long did it last?"

"I don't know exactly, less than fifteen minutes but more than ten. It actually took me by surprise when he suddenly started squirting; I think that he was surprised as well."

"Did you use the tissues?" 

Carol shook her head. "No, I swallowed."

Now I was hurt. "Why did you when you won't swallow mine."

"That has nothing to do with it," my wife insisted defensively, "There were a number of reasons. For a start there was a whole lot of cum, far more that I expected. Some went down my throat instinctively, some even leaked out of corner of my mouth and I swallowed the rest as an act of defiance because of those bloody tissues. You know how much I hate being predictable."

"And then?"

"I left. I couldn't bear to stay in that room a moment longer. As I was going out the door, Dom called out, 'See you Tuesday' but to be honest Doug, after tonight, I'm not at all sure that I want to go through with this."

I wasn't going to argue about that and we didn't mention what had happened for the rest of the evening but I was in for a big surprise. I had half expected that after her experience at The Peacock, Carol would be off sex, if only temporarily, but the opposite turned out to be the case as once in bed she virtually raped me. No foreplay required as Carol seemed desperate to get my cock inside her. Even at the end of what would have been a usual session, she wasn't satisfied and made great effort to get me stiff enough for another round. When she was finally sated, Carol just rolled over and fell asleep immediately, without exchanging another word.

Sunday morning we slept late, so late that we had to grab a hurried lunch before I had to set off to collect the kids. When I returned I found her leafing through a ladies clothing catalogue, 'looking for ideas' she said before excitedly discussing how she was going to spend her clothing allowance. There was no further mention of her reservations from the previous night. 

Carol returned from her shopping foray on the Monday with what she described as three outfits and some other stuff and I was treated to a fashion show of her purchases. There were three skirt and jacket sets in either black or dark grey, all tight fitting and with the skirt length just below mid thigh. She looked nicely businesslike without hiding her sexuality. She had also bought a selection of very attractive blouses and what seemed rather a lot of new underwear. Unfortunately these flimsy under things were not included in her mock catwalk display. 

On Tuesday morning I went in to work late, so that I could run my wife into work as soon as the arranged baby sitter arrived. I left her at reception and that was the last I saw of her before I got home that night. I did think that she might have poked her head into my department to say 'hello' but on the other hand, I hadn't gone looking for her. That night Carol suggested that we should avoid contact at work, going on to say, "I even think we shouldn't take our lunch breaks at the same time. I'm not really entitled to a break but Dom says that nobody's watching. I think he expects me to always eat with him, so if you are in the canteen at the same time it might be rather awkward." 

When I got home, I couldn't park in my usually place because Carol's 'company' vehicle was already in that spot. It was a small two seater, with a low engine capacity and a lot of miles on the clock, but it did make her independent of me for getting to and fro to work. During the evening, at every opportunity, she enthused about her new career, saying how much she enjoyed being able to use her mind again. I discovered that her first trip away with my boss was ten days hence. I was pleased that she would only be away for one night, leaving early Friday and back late Saturday afternoon. I don't know if this had been arranged specially to ease both Carol and I into the new routine. The plan was that she would drive to Dom's house that morning and that they would head for the airport together. 

During that first week I remained strangely unbothered by my wife's forthcoming trip, possibly distracted by her daily excited updates on her new job. Even my 'last' weekend was quite light-hearted with lots of laughter but that quickly changed when the new working week started. Usually on a Monday you start looking forward to Friday and the next weekend but I desperately wanted time to stand still. As day followed day the tension built up in my head until by the Thursday I was a quivering wreck. In contrast, Carol seemed amazingly calm and this caused me to say nothing of my feelings lest I pass on my anxieties to her. 

I got through the Friday night amazingly well and far better than I had anticipated. I told myself 'twenty-four hours ago she was here and in another twenty four she will be back', and by continually repeating that mantra I managed to block out the time in between. I had also switched from my usual wine to hard alcohol and that certainly helped. My responsibility towards the children ruled out letting myself become inebriated but I drank sufficient to induce a welcome fogginess in my brain. 

Saturday afternoon, I was playing on the floor with the kids when suddenly Carol was there looking down on us. I don't quite how I imagined my wife would look but any guess would be wide of the mark. Her face had a definite glow and it was obvious that she was bubbling inside with suppressed excitement. Unfortunately for me the kids were immediately all over her, as if she had been absent for a month rather than just one day. My only clue came when she whispered cryptically, "You absolutely won't believe what I've got to tell you." I had to wait until after we had eaten and the kids were tucked in bed before the mystery was resolved.

Back downstairs after kissing our offspring goodnight, Carole went straight to her handbag, delved inside and proceeded to scatter large denomination but unfamiliar bank notes on the floor. "I'm not sure about the exchange rate but there is almost five thousand Euros there," she said triumphantly. "All of our troubles are over. " 

"Where did that all come from?" I asked rather stupidly.

"I won it at roulette," Carol explained with a massive smile on her face, "Pour us a glass of wine to celebrate darling and I'll tell you everything right from the start."

I quickly got out our special occasion goblets and filled them with red wine. The moment that we were comfortably seated, still with a smile on her face, my exuberant wife started her story. "As soon as we got through the Monte Carlo Customs, Dom asked if I had brought an evening dress and when I said not he took me straight to a rather classy boutique and picked out a dress for me to wear. It is in a red silky material, reaching down to my ankles but with a big slit up one side. The only thing that I wasn't completely happy with is that it leaves a lot more of my breasts exposed than I'm comfortable with. There wasn't a lot I could say because he was paying for it. I'll show you the dress later" 

"Tell me about the money," I urged but actually I was more anxious to know what happened afterwards.

"The casino was very swish, you wouldn't believe the luxury. With all the well dressed people I could have easily believed it was a James Bond set."

"The money?"

"We sat at the roulette table. Dom put a pile of twenty chips in front of me and the same for himself. I didn't realise for quite a while that they were all fifty euro chips. The croupier called out 'Place your bets' but in French the way that they do. I didn't know what to bet so I put a chip on our house number and couldn't believe my eyes when the ball ended up on 33 and I'd got a massive pile of chips in front to me." 

"That would have almost tripled what you started with," I quickly calculated. 

My wife nodded happily, "And I kept on winning. I didn't know any more lucky numbers so I bet three or four chips every spin, red or black, odd or even and groups of numbers and almost every time I found more chips being pushed towards me. It was amazing. Some people started following my bets and a great crowd gathered round watching but in the end it got too much. At first I really enjoyed being the centre of attention but then I got rather claustrophobic and I was very conscious of all the eyes gazing at my tits, so I suggested to Dominic that we move to blackjack table." "Did you winning run continue?"




Alienation of Affection



This time Carol had to shake her head. "I had six or seven bets and didn't win a single hand. Dom said that Blackjack obviously wasn't my game and that it would be silly to give all my winnings back. He wanted to call it a night. I don't know if he was genuinely concerned or just was eager to get me back to our room. I think my luck would have changed again but by this time Dom had only three or four of his own chips left so I agreed to pack up. When we cashed up, I tried to give all the money back to him but he said it was my winnings. Instead I tried to return my original stake but he wouldn't take that either, saying that he had expected me to lose and had waved that cash goodbye as he gave it to me. The moment that we had a bit of privacy, I threw my arms round him and gave him a big thank you kiss."

I had been pleasantly distracted hearing of her successful gambling spree but now we were getting to the crux of her story and I felt my guts tightening in anticipation. My foreboding wasn't helped by the fact that the look of elation had faded from my wife's face to be replaced by a more sober expression.

"I'm sorry Doug, I know I said that I was going to hold back but I didn't," she said quietly. "I gave myself to him completely. I don't know if it was the excitement or because I felt so grateful for the money but it seemed the natural thing to do. I couldn't stop myself." 

"How many times has he fucked you?" 

"Three times altogether and before you ask, we only did missionary. Dom said he wanted to let me get used to him before we tried anything more adventurous."

"Did he make you cum?" 

Carol nodded and I'm sure that it was a dreamy look which flooded her face. "The first time we did it I had an absolutely massive orgasm, the biggest one ever, but I'm sure that was all due to the situation. The second time I had several small orgasms compared to that huge one but that fuck lasted a whole lot longer. For a long time we lay not moving but with him deep inside me. I kept squeezing him with my cunt muscles and he made his cock swell and twitch. We took it in turns. He also liked to talk a lot. In particular he wanted to know the things you do to me that I particularly like."

"I hope you didn't tell him all my secrets," I butted in, not really joking.

"Course not. I told him that he would have to find that sort of stuff out for himself. He didn't seem at all bothered by the idea," Carol added with a grin.

"What about the third time?"

"That was just a quickie the next morning," my wife explained. "We overslept and had to rush so that we could check out on time and make it to the appointment with the client. Nothing was signed and they only talked for about fifteen minutes so I honestly don't see why they couldn't have done it over the telephone." 

"Did you use condoms?" That was the first question I should have asked and I couldn't believe that I hadn't.

"I know that I said we would but we didn't," Carol admitted, "I completely forgot the first time and there didn't seem much point in starting after that."

"I know you're on the pill but you might have caught something," I objected.

"No I couldn't. While we were having dinner at my interview, Dominic showed me a certificate that he was free of STDs." 

That was effectively the end of the conversation and not long afterwards we went to bed. Some might think that I would have wanted to reclaim my wife but sex was the last thing on my mind because I was in the grip of a deep depression. Not only had my wife had sex with a man other than me but I also had to accept that Carol had fucked him back. I didn't escape that despondency until I argued that, expecting her to lie passively thinking of England as he poked his big dick inside her was never a realistic proposition. I could understand how those winnings had affected her feelings this time but I could also see that if she continued to have regular sex with Dom, it was almost inevitable that we would have reached this same point sooner or later.

Next day my mood was completely different, undoubtedly helped by Carol's happy buoyancy. She was smiling, singing and almost skipping from room to room but I didn't get quite onto her wavelength until the Monday, after I had cleared the mortgage arrears and all other outstanding bills. It was a wonderfully liberating feeling not having that burden of debt always niggling away at the back of my mind. Normal sexual relations were resumed but they were far from normal, filled with even hotter passion than I remembered from our honeymoon days. This state of euphoria lasted for a full three weeks until we were on the countdown to her next weekend away.

My tension steadily increased day by day but I rather assumed that I was alone in this until, during the Wednesday evening, Carol suddenly blurted out, "You know I'm finding it harder now that I did the first time, when in theory it should be a lot easier. Then I was digging us out of a hole and I could feel good about that but now that crisis has passed so I'll be just fulfilling an obligation. Also, last time, after winning all that money, everything seemed like a dream but there won't be any distractions this time and I'm going to be away for two whole nights with him not just one." 

We talked it through, including the benefits already received and decided that we had done the right thing. At the end we were both in a far better frame of with me being particularly helped by Carol reminding me, 'It is only sex'. At the end of discussion, she said, "Like last time, I doubt if I will be in the mood for sex tomorrow night, so if you want me you better do it now."

On the Friday evening the kids played me up about going to bed, due to missing a goodnight kiss from their mother, with the result was that I finished physically tired and fell asleep the moment that my head touched the pillow. Saturday night was a different matter. My parents had taken the kids overnight so I was left alone in the house with nothing to do but brood and in bed I was troubled by a persistent erection. I felt rather ashamed about this until I persuaded myself that it was simply due to sexual deprivation and not inspired by thoughts of what my wife was undoubtedly doing. I refused to masturbate and as a result lay awake for rather a long time.

I was looking out of the window as Carol parked in front of the house. I'm not saying that she appeared as exuberant as on her first return but she certainly looked extremely relaxed as she retrieved her small suitcase from the trunk and strode briskly into the house. "We went to Paris and it was wonderful," she told me over the heads of the two small bodies clinging to her legs. 

Again I had to wait until our offspring were safely settled in bed before I got a full debrief but my wife did pass on a snippet of information before then. "You won't believe this; on the second day we went up the Eiffel Tower to see the view," she started. "At first we were in an empty lift and Dom was saying that he was going to have me on the way up. I'm sure he was joking but I'll never know because a lot of other people flooded in at the last moment, so he couldn't. I was very relieved but also possibly a little bit disappointed. I don't know where he gets the nerve." Carol seemed excited by the memory but her story left me with a vague feeling of unease.

When were sitting with glasses of wine in our hands, Carol opened the conversation with the news, "Dom licked my pussy for the first time and I've got to say that he's almost as good as you are." She seemed unconscious of the fact that I might not exactly welcome this news.

"Anything else new?"

"We did the cowgirl, I don't remember the name but I was bouncing up and down on Don's cock while facing towards him. Actually we did that both days."

That item launched me into a barrage of questions, including 'How did it feel? What did you say to each other? What were you thinking? It was this last question that provoked an adverse reaction, as Carol said with a touch of irritation, "Doug, I was thinking about what I was doing and there just wasn't time to remember all this stuff that you seem to want to know." Despite her sudden reticence, I still came away with the knowledge that they hadn't used condoms; she had a lot of orgasms from several sessions of intercourse and that that he squirted a lot more cum than I did. This time I did claim my conjugal rites but had to go slowly when she said she was a little bit sore 'down there'.

During the weeks before the next time we continued to enjoy a higher incidence of intercourse along with enhanced passion, but I still faced our next separation with a greater sense of dread because her destination was Rome and she would be away for three nights. I could in a way see that this balanced the single night of her first time but was resolved to complain if it happened again in the future. One little mental quirk I must mention. Before that first time my big issue was the loss of exclusivity but looking back that now seemed almost an irrelevance.

It was one of the truer laws of life that if you are looking forward to something it takes forever to arrive but when you are anticipating a less than pleasant experience, the opposite is true. Before I knew it, Carol's next weekend away was almost upon us. There was no conversation worth repeating but something that acquired later significance is that I didn't even attempt sex on the night before her departure.

That long weekend with my wife away was a nightmare during which I hardly slept and had a constant twisted feeling in my gut. I instinctively felt that something had changed but couldn't put my finger on what that might be. Something had certainly upset me. One thing was I suspected that, instead of reluctance, Carol had actually looked forward to her time away this time, one clue being that she packed her case three days ahead, instead of at the very last moment as she had on the first two occasions. Perhaps my unease was caused by the realisation that these absences would continue regularly every month into the future or maybe it was all simply due to that extra day.

When my wife got home, the only word to describe how she looked is 'tired' and I told her as much. "Well I have been very busy," she said. "Dom has a lot of clients near Rome so I expect I'll be going back there in the future."

Being a Monday, I had been at work all day and unable to prepare a meal so I'd got an Indian takeaway and kept it warm in the oven. While we were eating, seeming a bit more relaxed and perky, Carol started enthusiastically describing her time away. "After Dom met his client in an office overlooking the Coliseum, he took me to a place called Ostia about fifteen miles away. Two thousand years ago it was the main port of Rome but it got silted up and now it is over three kilometres from the sea. After a good look round the ruins we spent the rest of the weekend at a place over looking the beach and the Tyrrhenian Sea. Dom knows a whole lot about history and he was telling me all about Messalina, the wife of the Emperor Claudius. They had been forced to marry before he became Emperor, when she was still young and he was already an old man. She soon started cheating on him and had dozens and dozens of lovers. Some people thought that he knew and turned a blind eye but then she went too far. One day when Claudius was in Ostia for the day, Messalina organised a huge sex orgy party at the palace and actually went through a marriage ceremony with another man. She was quickly found out and finished up with her head cut off. Dominic said that he thought I was as hot as she must have been, he may be rather arrogant at times but he does sometimes say very flattering things."

Carol was putting on a cheerful chatty front but, looking into her eyes, I sensed that there was something bothering her and later, when I began my interrogation she seemed even more reluctant to answer me. In fact, after only two questions, she said angrily, "I don't get why you want to know the details anyway. Frankly I think it's a bit sick, I'm beginning to think that you actually get off on hearing what another man is doing to me." I was shocked by her remark. My questions were an attempt to retain a modicum of control and I had never even considered that they were capable of a prurient interpretation. 

That little outburst ruined the mood and we exchanged very few words for the rest of the evening. I don't think I would have tried for sex but in what I took as a peace offering, although saying she was too bruised and sore, Carol offered to suck me off instead. I possibly foolishly opted to wait. Lying waiting for sleep I found that the worries, which had gripped me for the past three days, had not yet abated. 

On the Friday evening of the second week after her return, arriving home I found a gleaming red, two seater Subaru parked where my wife's much tattier vehicle usually stood. Inside I found Carol with smiles all over her face, "What do you think of my new car?" she asked expectantly

"It looks nice but I don't understand?" 

"I've been at the firm for exactly three months and the car is a sign that I've passed my probationary period. It's not actually brand new but I love it. Dom gave me the afternoon off to drive round and get used to it."

That was the first that I'd heard about a probationary period but I let it go. Carol continued to enthuse about her new car. She said that she had always drawn attention from other drivers but in this new vehicle it seemed that every male on the road wanted to drive alongside, either waving or tooting his horn. With a smile she said how good it felt to put her foot on the gas and blow them all away. Something about her excess happiness compared to my permanent twisted feeling got to me. I suspected that she was getting a lot of pleasure from our lifestyle arrangement and I said so.

The smile disappeared from my wife's face in a flash. There was more annoyance than anger in her voice as she told me, "I don't understand you. You were fine with me whoring myself to save the house but now you're getting all uptight because you think I might actually enjoy it."

Still seething from my wife's remark the next day, I had barely seated myself in the canteen when I saw Dom heading towards me. He was alone. Sitting himself down opposite me he asked cheerfully, "So what do you think of Carol's new car?" 

"Very nice," I grudgingly admitted.

"I wangled the upgrade for her," my boss bragged, seeming exceedingly pleased with himself, "She deserved it, she puts so much energy into everything she does and she's always very willing to learn."

There was little I could say because I was unsure whether this was an honest appraisal of my wife's office abilities or a sly reference to their sexual activities. 

Two weeks later she ended up in Prague and on her return I was again treated to a travelogue. Carol described the old town and square, pointing out that many of the buildings dated back to the 13th century. It was after she had enthusiastically talked about exploring the back streets for quaint unusual shops that I innocently remarked that she seemed to have really enjoyed herself. Taking this completely the wrong way, Carol shot back, "Why shouldn't I enjoy it, it's only natural. Dom is a very attractive man, he's an excellent lover and he's got a rather gorgeous cock. What the hell did you expect?" 

I keep concentrating on her month end trips but should point out that between times we lived a normal life with few references to her absences. The only difference from before all this started was that my wife seemed to have acquired a greatly enhanced libido with her now initiating sexual activity far more than me. I think that I fell into the routine of making the most of the benefits but closing my mind to what went on when she was away.

The next major landmark occurred towards the end of the month. I had knocked off a bit early and actually followed Carol on the drive home. Outside the front door I playfully grabbed hold of her to claim my homecoming kiss but to my surprise she resisted and as she struggled to open the door and escape inside, I detected the unmistakable smell of semen on her breath.

I waited until the boys were in bed before saying simply, "When you got home I smelled cum on your breath." I could tell from her eyes that she expected me to say something."

"I knew it was a mistake to do it in the afternoon."

"You don't deny it?" 

"How can I?" my wife said, boldly meeting my gaze, "I've been giving Dom some blow jobs at work for the last few weeks but I don't think that's so terrible. That's where the Subaru comes from. Dom offered to extend the agreement by upgrading my car if I looked after him occasionally at work. Compared to what I do with him while we're away, it's nothing. I would have told you but after the way you've started carrying on about the other stuff, I couldn't see the point of upsetting you unnecessarily. I don't do it every day but it certainly happens more than occasionally. It's not always convenient because I do have real work to do. Up to now it's always been a morning thing but today Dom was out of the office for most of the day. "

"Is it just sucking him off or do you do other stuff with him?"

"I'm not going to lie; altogether I've let him fuck me three times at work. Twice I was bent over his desk and the other time we did it up on the big boardroom table but we only did that for the sake of doing it. None of the three was particularly comfortable for me and since then he's been satisfied with oral. Quite apart from saving the house, you can't claim that you haven't benefited.

I wasn't happy. "This is going way beyond anything that I agreed to."

I could see from her face that my wife was genuinely perplexed. "I don't see the harm. If he can do anything that he wants with me at the end of the month, where is the sense in having a no contact rule for the rest of the time?" 

A quick answer to her question eluded me and while I was struggling to find a response, Carol followed up by saying triumphantly, "I enjoy doing it and it's earned me a smashing car to drive. Dom is happy, I'm happy and you don't really have anything to grumble about."

"What exactly do I get out of it?"

"Sweetheart that's easy, I think that I'm now more sexually charged than at any time in my life and you are certainly getting your share."

I couldn't really dispute that so I let it go and it wasn't until the night before her next time away that we had another moment of contention. I had been ill from the start of the week and not in the mood for sex but by the Thursday night I was feeling randy. However, when I tried initiated action, Carol pushed me away saying, "I thought we agreed that you wouldn't have me the nights before I go away."

"I don't remember any agreement," I said unhappily, "We didn't do it the first two times because you were nervous but that certainly doesn't apply now."

Thinking I had overcome her objection I tried again but she resisted even more strongly saying, "If you must know, Dom likes me to be clean when I'm with him. He doesn't like giving me oral if there might still be some of your cum inside me from the night before." That news did little to improve my peace of mind.

My wife's destination that month was Amsterdam but I can recall little that she told me except that they had visited the Anne Frank house. I don't think I even enquired about her extra marital sex. In some perverse way, the fact that she was servicing her boss during the month made it easier for me while she was away as it seemed to remove the special significance of her time abroad. Consequently, I got through the two days without giving much thought to what she might be doing at any given moment.




Alienation of Affection



The next month was completely different. From the moment that I knew ahead of time that she was going back to Rome I had a problem. Maybe it was because this was the sixth time she would be away and therefore a bit of an anniversary, perhaps it was memories of that dreadful three day absence or could it be that I instinctively knew that location had some special significance. As I lay alone in bed while she was away, I was almost back to square one. 

Carol walked in the door on the Sunday afternoon with a big smile on her face and even before I could kiss her, she said that she had two nice surprises for me. She said that Dom had waited until they were away to tell her the good news. The first item was that she had been awarded an unexpected £1000 bonus and the second that we had the use of a luxury villa for a week, starting the following weekend. The villa was owned by the company and usually reserved for directors but Dom had spotted a free week and somehow managed to put it at our disposal. Needless to say, that night and the days after we talked a lot about the holiday and what she might have got up to while away was never mentioned. 

It was a luxury villa in the true sense of the word. Located on a cliff top with a panoramic view of the sea, the outside area was equipped with both a small infinity pool and a six seater Jacuzzi. Inside there was a large living area with several Roman style couches scattered around, each with an accompanying long low table. Also, mounted on the wall was a massive slim line TV screen. There were two equal sized bedrooms but while one held a huge king size bed, the other had bunk beds and a folding cot.

Hindered by over excited kids we still managed to unpack and get sorted comparatively quickly. An hour later, with Carol and the boys in the Jacuzzi, I was trying to sort out the barbecue. Everything was fine except that I couldn't find the expected tools, so I loudly bemoaned that fact. "In the kitchen, cupboard to the right of the sink, second shelf down," she shouted back, without even having to think.

"You certainly know your way around," I told her.

"I should do, this is the third time that I've stayed here," my wife explained, without any sign of embarrassment. "Dom and I always come here when he has business in Rome; this is where we spent last weekend."

With that statement the whole holiday soured in my mouth. I said nothing more but after we had eaten and with my wife busy with the kids, I wandered into the master bedroom and stood gazing at that extravagantly large bed, my mind filled with obscene images of what I knew must taken place upon it. Hell, I could even imagine that the smell of sex still lingered in the atmosphere of the room. 

Early next morning, still very depressed, I got up and went out to explore. I quickly found there was another mirror image villa back to back with the one we were occupying. Tentatively trying the door I found it unlocked and stepped inside. The layout was identical but the view was of landscape rather than sea and it lacked the outside facilities. I presumed that they were shared. While checking out the main bedroom, I saw something sparkling, caught in the thick pile of a bedside rug, and investigation showed it to be a diamond earring. It belong to Carol, I knew that because I had purchased the rather expensive set to celebrate our second wedding anniversary.

After eating breakfast while still seated at the table but with the boys away playing with their toys, I slid the earring across to my wife and told her where I found it. She gazed at it for a full minute without speaking but then said, "I suppose that I better tell you, last time I was here I did a threesome with Dom and another man."

I of course wanted to know details and was told that he was a client of Dom's called Armand, who she described as 'a man in his fifties, badly balding and with the start of a pot belly'. "It was a bit of a flop as a threesome," Carol elaborated, "Armand had trouble getting it up, he was probably feeling a bit overawed, so the next night Dom disappeared leaving me to sleep with Armand by himself. I didn't get much out of it but he thought all his birthdays had come at once. That £1000 wasn't really a bonus; it was my commission for clinching the sale."

There was nothing for me to say. I just sat gazing at her in disbelief and I think disgust. This non response causing my wife to shrug her shoulders and say guilelessly, "We still need every penny we can get, right?" 

Right from the start I knew that the iniquitous bargain that we struck with Dominic was open ended but I think that at least part of me believed that, in six months or a year, when Carol's salary had repaired our finances, she would quit her job and we would return to normal married life. Now I was having to gradually resign myself to the fact that I would be sharing my wife's body with another man for the foreseeable future.

Carol ended up in Berlin one of the next two months but I've forgotten which. I regard this as a limbo period during which I had a constant underlying feeling of dissatisfaction with the way my marriage was deteriorating but I was not desperately unhappy. Nor were there any notable discussions. One time when she was busy packing for a new trip I did complain that her frequent away times were ruining the marriage but her unsympathetic response was, "I don't see what you've got to grumble about. You're getting far more sex now that you did before I started fucking Dom. I go out of my way to make sure that you don't miss out. When I get home from being away, I always let you stick it in me no matter how much Dom has worn me out."

I couldn't contradict her on the sex because Carol did seem intent on shagging me to death but during our private time, there seemed to be more and more raw sex but less and less making love. Another occasion, when she was about to leave, faced with her now obvious eagerness to be with her lover, I found myself asking about his appeal. My wife's face positively lit up as she told me, "He's exciting. He makes me feel alive. Dom enjoys taking risks, like doing things with me in places where we might easily get caught. He's fucked me a couple of times in lifts and once in a cable car. That was in daylight and anybody on top of the mountain with a pair of binoculars could have seen everything."

"Do you like doing that, it doesn't sound like you?"

"It makes me feel very uncomfortable but I find it very hard not to do anything that he wants," she said simply.

"Anything?"

"Only within reason. For example Dom wanted me to pretend that I'd gone off the pill so that you'd have to start wearing condoms. I couldn't do that to you so I really put my foot down on that."

During the earlier of my wife's away times with Dom, apart from some vaginal tenderness, he had always returned her in approaching pristine condition but after her last couple of trips I had noticed bruises on her breasts and elsewhere, very swollen nipples and even an unmistakable hickey. I had let this go without remark but then something happened that was beyond the pale. 

The day after she had returned from her ninth European destination, I had wandered into the bedroom to find Carol naked, in the middle of getting changed. She was standing with her back to me and I was shocked to see a series of parallel, vivid red stripes across her round buttocks. In one place it even looked as if the skin had been broken. Sensing my presence behind her, she quickly whipped round, attempting to conceal the damage from me, but it was too late. "How the fuck did that happen?" I shouted. 

"It isn't as bad it looks," she said quickly, "Let me put some clothes on and I'll explain."

Reluctantly I waited and when she was dressed, preceding her words with a kind of awkward laugh, Carol said, "It's just a game that Dom likes to play. I have to pretend to have been a naughty girl and then he punishes me with a spanking. Up to now he's always used his hand but last time he tried with a cane and it just got a bit out of control. Don't worry, he promised never to do it that way again." 

"What kind of things do you confess?"

My wife seemed even more embarrassed as she said, "There are some things that Dom doesn't want me to do with you any more. I do them anyway but then he makes me suffer for it." 

That was the first time that I thought that I might be better out of the marriage.

One day mid month, Carol asked if I minded her going out for the evening with some girls from the office. I quickly gave my permission and she arrived home late but in a happy, buoyant mood. That had been repeated two times since but on this occasion, for some reason, I was very suspicious. After she set out, a call to my parents quickly brought them round for emergency baby sitting dut, leaving me to drive off in my car. I was not at all surprised to find my wife's distinctive vehicle parked in front of Dominic's house. 

I confronted Carol the moment that she entered the house but she was unapologetic, shouting back, "You don't like me screwing him at work so I don't but I can't get through the month without going with him. You've no idea how much I want him. It's not love, I could never love him as much as I loved you because he's not really a lovable person, but there are times when I go crazy with the need to feel him inside me. I don't understand it myself but he's got this strange kind of hold over me." 

I was shocked by her sentiments but more shocked by the fact that she had referred to her love for me in the past tense. Next morning I contacted an up and coming lawyer named Colin, who was a friend of a friend, and the following day I took time off to visit his office.

Over a period of more than two hours, I told him everything that I described above, (which is part of the reason that I remember the details do well). I also had to answer a large number of his probing questions. When he had all the information that he needed, Colin asked me what I hoped to achieve. I said that I would be seeking a divorce but more importantly, I wanted to know if there was any way to legally get back at Dominic.

Colin smiled and said, "I know of the perfect law but you might be fifty years too late. It's an action called 'Alienation of affection' and falls within the tort category of litigation. The trouble is that it has been repealed in all but five American states. The UK I'm not sure, it has certainly lapsed but there is a good possibility that it is still on the statute book. The beauty of this one is that in the case of co-workers you can also sue the employer for allowing it to happen."

"That sounds almost too good to be true. What's the snag?"

"You've got no proof," Colin told me, valiantly trying but failing to keep the grin off his face.

"What about everything I've just told you?" I asked, completely deflated.

"He can deny it, claim falling in love or irresistible mutual attraction. What you need to prove is that your boss cold bloodedly operated a campaign to steal your previously loving wife away from you. If you can get him to admit that on tape you're home and dry. To succeed in this action, your wife must have left home, preferably to live with him and you must also show that it was a happy marriage before all this started. Try to avoid talk about that stupid agreement and if they bring it up in court we'll deny it. I doubt if they will believed. " 

At the end of our meeting Colin sent me to another office in the same building. There I met a retired police offer who, I had been told, handled all the investigative work. Having been informed of my needs, he quickly and efficiently fitted me with what he called 'a wire', a recording device with a miniature microphone taped to my chest. Actually, playing safe, I left his office with two of the gadgets. It didn't take much practice before, flushed with confidence, I rang Dom asking to see him. 

Back in my boss's office, as I seated myself in the chair, again playing the role of supplicant, I couldn't help think of the previous occasion when I sat in that position. "What can I do for you this time," Dominic asked with that same confident demeanour.

"I want you to stop having sex with my wife," I said softly.

He gave a contemptuous laugh. "No chance, in fact you're lucky to still have her living with you. I only have to snap my fingers and she'll come running, in fact if it wasn't for your kids she'd be with me already. You've lost her to a better man Doug and you might as well accept it."

"I don't understand how this happened," I mumbled and this was sufficient send Dom off on an ego trip, during which he bragged about his cleverness and irresistible seduction technique. His words couldn't have been better suited to my purpose if I had scripted them myself.

"It happened because I made it happen," Dominic said smugly, "I fancied her from the first moment I saw her, any man would, but it wasn't until last Xmas that I realised she was seducible. My trouble was that I didn't know quite how to put that knowledge to good use until I had the idea of offering her a job. That was a stroke of brilliance, if I say so myself. From then it was easy but I didn't rush it, instead I worked stage by stage. Taking her abroad with me was the key because I had every opportunity to get into her mind and soon she was like putty in my hands. That woman is a sexual volcano and you didn't know, I'd bet good money that you've never realised how submissive she is."

I shook my head in apparent helplessness and this served to provoke him into further triumphant taunting, "One other thing that I found hard to credit, how long have you been with her? Ten fucking years and in all that time you never once got your cock in her ass. What a waste. Jesus! It took me less than three months to crack that particular cherry. Face it Doug, she just too much woman for you. She loves it that way now, can't get enough of it."

"I thought we were friends."

"Maybe we were but you know what they say, 'Everything's fair in love and war'. At first it was just a matter of getting my leg over but once I'd had a taste, I decided that I wanted her for myself and from that moment on Doug, you were toast. A woman like Carol needs a real man and unfortunately you don't qualify. You're a decent enough guy and pretty good at your job but between the sheets I reckon you must be a bit of a muppet."

Despite the need for evidence, I jumped to my feet unable to stand the condescension but Dom almost raced me to the door. Once there he stuck out his hand saying, "No hard feelings but you have to face it, the better man won." I declined to shake it. 

Filled with elation at the ease with which I had accomplished my mission, I left work and sped to take my spoils to Colin. He was delighted, stating that Dom's unknowing words were more than sufficient to win our case. He said that he would get a transcript made from the tape and have copies included when writs were issued against both Dominic and the company head office. Before I left he reiterated that he wouldn't act until I let him know that my wife had abandoned the marital home. 

I returned home filled with sadness at the knowledge that I was almost certainly going to end my marriage. I did wait until there were no distractions but then without preamble, I told Carol that I would no longer put up with her cheating on me. I said that what she did at the office was cheating but I had overlooked that, however I wouldn't tolerate her lying to me, just to snatch a few extra hours with a man who was now very obviously her lover. 

"You are just being silly," Carol said lightly, obviously having misread the seriousness in my voice. "I only sneak out for the evening in the middle of the month, to see me through to when I go away with him again. What's the harm?"

"If you don't know then I can't tell you," I said quietly.

"OK, if it means so much to I will stay away from his house but I might start screwing him again at work. I have my needs," Carol said petulantly.

"That's no longer good enough; I want you to stop seeing him completely. In fact I want you to hand in your resignation tomorrow so that you have no contact with Dom at all. I'm fed up with sharing you with another man, especially as we aren't desperate anymore."

"This isn't about money. I love my job and I love having sex with Dom, I love having sex with you too but Dom takes me places that you never can and I don't mean going abroad," Carol shot back angrily. "I'm not giving him up no matter what you say." 

"This isn't what I expected when you took the job," I said helplessly.

"I didn't expect it either but things happen. I never imagined that I would develop feelings for him."

"Are you saying that you love him?"

"Possibly not true love but I am besotted, I can't get enough of him," Carol admitted.

"Then I want a divorce," I told her. I thought that my announcement would have the effect of a nuclear weapon but it turned out more like a damp squib.

Carol studied me for a moment and then said softly, "That's actually a bit of a relief. Dom has been pushing for me to leave you for the last couple of months and I was tempted but I'm still very fond of you and I didn't want to hurt you like that." 

"I will be seeking custody of the boys but I won't try to stop you seeing them. You can visit any time you like as long as you come alone," I told her in a more conciliatory tone of voice. 

My soon to be ex wife gave me a wan smile before saying, "I regret the loss of what we had but, even if Dom was no longer on the scene, I don't think we could ever get back to how we were a year ago."

"Why do you say that," I asked, (I think that part of me still hoped that reconciliation was possible).

"I've changed and I don't think I'm a nice person any more," Carol said sadly, "For instance, when Dom had you had in his office last week to give you a bollocking about that computer balls-up, what you didn't know was that I under the desk with his cock in my mouth. I daren't make a sound otherwise I could easily have had an orgasm just from the kinkiness of the situation. At the time it seemed like a big laugh but afterwards I felt ashamed. I realised then that I was developing a split personality but that probably goes with the territory for trying to keep two very different men happy."

"Maybe you want to go to him now?" I suggested and Carol quickly nodded to accept my offer, saying only that she wanted to grab a few things to take with her.

It was only a few minutes before she was back, carrying two small holdalls but as I moved to shepherd her towards the door, Carol hesitated and said, "There's no rush, can't we have a last glass of wine together?"

Over the next twenty minutes or so we had a fairly friendly discussion, touching on the kids and happier times but mainly talking about what went wrong. Towards the end my wife admitted that she sometimes wished that we had let the house go, laughing ironically as she added, "It's stupid, I threw away my marriage trying to save the house and I end up not even living in it."

Finally, standing by the door before she exited, we spontaneously threw our arms around each other for a prolonged embrace. Then she was gone. As her rear lights disappeared from sight, I felt a slight twinge of guilt that I hadn't warned her about the impending storm

My first task at work the following day was to ring Colin to tell him to set the wheels in motion.

On my return home from work the following day, the baby sitter informed me that my wife had been there, removing stuff from the house. Looking round I found very little missing from its usual place but up in the bedroom, checking in Carol's side of the wardrobe, I was faced with a row of empty hangers. It was in that moment, with a feeling of sadness, that I admitted for the first time that our relationship was really over. 




Alienation of Affection



Two days later, I had hardly entered my office in the morning when the door burst open and Dominic stormed in. With scarlet face and bulging eyes, he appeared to be on the verge of apoplexy and, almost in slow motion, I could see specks of spittle spraying from his mouth. "You fucking cocksucking turd!! What the hell is all this alienation of affection crap?" he shouted, waving a document in the air.

Striding across the office to stand in front of me, he shook his clenched fist under my nose and snarled, "I've a good mind to beat the shit out of you."

Despite the fact that at that moment he seemed to tower over me, I stood firm and said calmly, "You daren't take the risk."

"What fucking risk? I could take you down with one hand tied behind my back."

"You will be satisfied with just bloodying my nose but if I do manage to get the upper hand I will kill you," I told him. I think it was the venom in my voice rather than my words that unsettled him but Dom quickly stepped back muttering something about 'not dirtying his hands'. With apparently nothing more to say, he then turned abruptly and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

After another couple of days, I arrived at work later than usual having been delayed sorting out my kids but was hardly inside in my office when my second in command appeared, asking if I knew what was going on. When I professed ignorance, he explained that some people from head office had turned up; going on to say that both Dominic and Carol had been made to clear their desks before being escorted from the premises. I pretended to be as mystified as he. Next morning I received a courier delivered communication typed on head office stationary which read:- 

Dear Sir, With regard to the matter of Dominic **** and your wife, our lawyers hold the considered opinion that the law you refer to is no longer extant. Notwithstanding, we are advised that, by dismissing the aforesaid two employees at the earliest opportunity, we have acquitted ourselves of any and all liability. On that basis we intend to defend the suit, should you chose to pursue it. 

That weekend, I was half expecting Carol but it was Dom I saw approaching my front door, so when the bell rang, I opened it with the security chain in place. Seeing my precaution he held out his empty hands palms up, saying that he didn't intend violence and just wanted to talk. Noting that he looked rather subdued, I let him in. I gave him a drink, as hospitality demanded, and when we were seated, with more confidence than I really felt, mimicking his words, I asked, "What can I do for you?"

"I haven't got the hundred thousand pounds you're asking for," he said, "Hell, if I sell everything it will come to a lot less than half of that and then there will be the legal costs if I try to defend this. I've come to ask you to be a bit more reasonable if I settle out of court. If the company caved in so easily, I know I don't have a fucking chance." 

I let him wait as I pretended to ponder and then asked, "What do you think would be fair?"

Dom shrugged his shoulders helplessly, "I don't know, the amount that you are asking for I suppose. I have been a bit of a bastard."

I let him sweat some more but that admission saved him some money when I said, "I think it only fair that you pay the £20,000 that is Carol's share of my negative equity because I don't want that still hanging round her neck when you dump her."

"I've no intention of dumping her," he was quick to protest

"Maybe not in the short term but I doubt if you and she will be drawing your old age pensions together. I think that Carol and I might have achieved that if you hadn't intervened, so I want another ten grand for that. You will also pay my legal costs but I don't think they amount to that much at the moment." Having stated my terms I paused for effect and then added, "That is my first and final offer but the amount will increase if you try to delay." 

The relief on his face was palpable. "That is very generous, I accept," he said.

Strangely, with business settled he seemed reluctant to leave and launched into a speech which amounted little more that trying to justify his actions. He concluded by saying, "I was willing to lay out cash to win your wife but I never dreamed that she would be quite this expensive. I'm going to end up in a worse financial position than the one you were in when this whole thing started. The Subaru will have to go for a start, would you believe that I paid for that fucking car out of my own pocket.

*

Six months down the line. 

I applied for Dom's job but understandably failed to get it; I did however keep my own position and was given an increase in salary, ironically almost exactly the amount that I had hoped for the year before. Carol calls frequently to see the kids. I find that I can't hate her for losing control of her hormones and we have an amicable relationship. I even went away from home for two weekends and one full week during which she moved in for quality time with her children. It seems that Dom has taken badly to relative poverty and I got the impression that, outside the bedroom, Carol is already becoming disenchanted with him. There is no prospect of us getting back together, not least because I have established a special rapport with my baby sitter Sue.