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No Way!

By: PrinceThelo



I guess sooner or later it had to happen. It had crept up on me, real sneaky like. I had been noticing these white, hardened patches starting to grow on my foreskin, exactly on the edge that protrudes the most when my dick is at rest. But I didn't think much of it. As a tennis pro I've had calluses on my hands and feet all my life. So I was used to that. You get calluses when you work it hard.

And boy, did I work my dick hard. It's one of my favourite perks: all those nice, tight groupies. Rock stars might have even more groupies than tennis pros, but our groupies are better. Usually they play a little bit of tennis themselves, so they are fit and lean. That's just the way I like them. Other than that I don't care: I like them blonde, brunette, black, red or sporting some dodgy punk dye job. I'd even ball a chick with no hair at all. If she's got A-cups or double D's: I really don't give a fuck. As long as they are lean, in their twenties and dead set on pleasing me. No teens; they're too much work. They don't have the experience nor the confidence. And no thirty-somethings either: they lack stamina. And let's face it: things start to flab and sag once you get past that big thirty-love. No amount of iron pumping can keep gravity at bay forever. Believe me: I know from my own experience.

I was also used to soldiering on when in pain. So even when those calluses on my dick started to get painful, I wasn't worried. It felt very much like a blister: a small burn or a scuff wound that gave me this burning sensation when my pee flowed over it and especially when I shoved my dick into a nice wet pussy. I won't lie: sometimes it hurt like hell. But what the heck: I just dug a little deeper into the Vaseline. A day not fucked is a day not lived, right? And when you're horny and you've got this nice hot hardbody just craving to rest her ass onto your throbbing dick, you don't care about pain.

It really only bothered me when I took a shower. I cringed every time I had to pull back the foreskin to wash the head. But I figured that was just the price you had to pay for all that hard fucking. Like my trainer always said: "Are you a wimp or a champ, a sissy or a man, a quitter or a fighter? Give me all you've got. And then some. Beat the hell out of those balls. Beat them harder. Beat them like you want to break them."

Actually, he never really said that. He always yelled it at the top of his voice. And usually just a few minutes before I was sitting in the locker room with my elbow in a bowl of ice. But that's another story altogether.

But then one night, just after I'd made the finals at Roland Garros, I had this amazing black bitch up in my Hilton room. You should have seen her. She was wild, just like she'd only just left her cannibal tribe in the jungle. Scary Spice, the Williams sisters... they all had nothing on her. She looked at me with her big, black tiger eyes like she was about to bite my dick off. She licked those huge lips that seemed to stretch from ear to ear, cupped my balls with her left-hand and grabbed my dick with her right-hand. Her tongue slithered out of her mouth and exposed the two studs she wore side by side in her pierced tongue. It moved like a black mamba with silver teeth. A predator, ready to pounce. She started to go down. In my mind I could already feel that black mamba striking my dick as I looked at her back arching. Her big, round ass was sticking up in the air like a trophy I was about to win. Both my heads were throbbing. I closed my eyes.

"My God, what's that funky shit?" she shouted out. A cry of admiration, I thought.

"Holy coconut, that shit is nasty!" she proceeded.

Startled, I opened my eyes.

"No way!" she said. She shook her head and looked at my dick like she was sitting in a posh restaurant and had just been served a fresh piece of road kill, well done. "Ain't no fucking way Gemima is going down on that." She pointed at my dick with her long, shiny white fingernail and started to get off the bed.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"You'd better have a doctor take a look at that shit a.s.a.p." she said as her tits slipped back into her yellow top. A wave of depression rolled over me as I saw that wild, natural afro that she sported between her legs disappear into her black leather skirt again. God, it's so rare to see a natural bush these days, especially a big, black jungle you could get lost in without finding your way out for months. Before I knew it she'd opened the door, her handbag, boots and panties in hand. She turned around one more time.

"And you'd better throw my phone number in the trash right there. Because you can forget about Gemima ever going anywhere near that thing again," she said while I watched the white fingernail of her index finger do a mad tribal dance in front of her face. "I knew I should have gone up with Venus Williams again. She may only have a strap-on, but at least that one looks healthy. And the girl can work it with the best of them."

Yeah, she was right about Venus. But that's another story again. I'll tell that some other time.

Anyway: I was flabbergasted. I rushed into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. You know how you sometimes need someone to open up your eyes so you can finally see something obvious, something that's been right in front of your nose for months? Yep, I guess I have to thank that damn bitch. My foreskin was all red and sported these huge patches of hard, white calluses. The white growth was all round. I could even see some white growth on the head now. I picked at it. I could peel huge patches of skin right off. It looked like a really bad case of athlete's foot. Now, I can tell you that that's something you really don't want to happen: pieces of skin peeling off of your penis. I felt like my dick was disintegrating right in front of my eyes. 

And another thing you don't want to happen is your nice, family doctor going "Good Grief!" the moment you unveil your dick for him. I swear his eyes became twice their size as his face turned green with disgust. For a moment he looked exactly like Kermit the Frog would look if he'd just got a karate handjob from Miss Piggy. Albeit with the addition of a pair of jam jar glasses and a Jewish nose.

"Is it bad, doc?" I whispered as I lifted my head off the table so I could glance at my dick. I felt the paper sheet riding up in my crack. I'm not sure I wanted an answer.

"In all honesty," he started as he carefully lifted up my penis with his green latex gloved thumb and forefinger. "That's the worst candida albicans infection I've ever seen in the thirty years I've had this practice."

I certainly didn't want that answer.

"Candy da what's it?" I stammered. It reminded me of the name of a Vegas stripper that once gave me a free lap dance. "Is that bad?"

"Can-di-da Al-bi-cans," he answered. Yep, still sounded like a Vegas hooker.

"That's a kind of fungus," he proceeded.

"You're shitting me, doc? There's a frigging fungus growing out of my di... I mean: penis?"

He burst out laughing. "Well, I wouldn't quite put it like that."

"So, what would you put it like?"

"Candida Albicans is a relatively harmless yeast that lives inside eighty percent of the population."

"Harmless?" I cried out. "You make it sound like I'm baking a damn cake down there. A fucking fungus is feasting on my cock. Does that look harmless to you?"

"Calm down," he said. "No need to panic."

"No, of course not. The next time I'm with a girl I'll just tell her to help herself to the cheese I'm growing on my cock. How did I get this?"

"Probably from a woman you've had intercourse with. Have you been very sexually active over the last six months?"

"Is that a trick question, doc?"

He smiled.

"Candida lives inside the vaginas of healthy women without causing any problems," he proceeded . "But it can turn into an invasive, infectious form if the immune system is compromised for some reason. Stress, chemotherapy, Aids..."

"Aids?" I shouted.

"Don't worry. Probably not. But we'll do a blood test later to be on the safe side."

"So is there a pill to get rid of this Candy da Albi or something?"

"Yes. And there are creams I could prescribe. But I'm afraid they only work on mild cases. Your infection is too big for them."

"But then what? How are we going to get rid of it?"

"As bad as the affliction is, I think we're going to have to have the foreskin removed."

"Say what?"

"It's a standard procedure that's widely known under the name circumcision."

"No way!" I was shocked. "That might be good for your people, but I don't believe in God, Yahweh, Allah or whatever you call that shit. I don't even believe in Santa Clause. I don't want to lose my foreskin. I like it. I'm proud of it. Girls like it. It's a source of pleasure. For me and for the girls."

"Don't worry," he tried to calm me down again. He took a closer look at my penis again. "I don't think penis amputation will be necessary at this stage."

I don't remember anything that happened for the next half hour. Because this is the moment I fainted. Good thing I was lying down on the table.

When I woke up again, my penis had turned bright orange. And it was sticking up through a green sheet with a hole in it. It looked like a weird toadstool on an alien planet. My proud manhood, my male... fungus. I wanted to reach out to it. But the doc grabbed my hand.

"Careful," he said as he handed me a pen and a piece of paper. "Don't touch the iodine. We've prepped it for the operation. You only have to sign this release and in half an hour you'll be completely free of your problem."

I threw the green sheet away, pushed the doc aside and bolted off the table. I tripped over my own jeans which were still wrapped around my ankles. I hit the ground. I pulled up my pants, struggled to get up again and opened the door. As I dove out I was still trying to button up my pants. All heads in the waiting room turned to me. I gave them a front row view of my orange dick. I ran out, trying to stuff my orange cock into my blue jeans... God, I'm glad there weren't any paparazzi around that day.

All that happened two months ago. Fortunately the HIV test came up negative. And another doctor gave me some antifungal cream which I've been smearing on my dick four times a day ever since. It's still not totally gone. But it's a lot less. I wonder if it will ever fully go away. In the meantime: if there are any girls out there who crave the taste of a nice celebrity cock with a bit of Candy Da Thingamajig cheese on top, hit me up, will you? Because I haven't had sex since. 

Any ladies who are interested, listen up: just put a letter in the fan mail or come to meet me at the next Grand Slam tournament. Make sure you use this line, so I'll know it's you:

"I love to nibble cheese all night long."

If I take you up on the offer, you'll know it's me.

No Way _ Kim



My first story for some time. Been too busy retiring!

Not very long, as I ease myself back into it, but hope it amuses you. 

++++++++ 

"It happened John. I got called into Gerald's office today and got offered the promotion."

She said it so casually that I hardly took it in for a moment. Kim, my lovely twenty eight year old wife, had been offered a promotion -- Another one!

"That's fantastic Kim," I cried out, recovering my composure. "That's two jumps in level in the last two years."

"Yes," she replied smiling at me. "I knew I was in the frame, but I hardly thought I'd get it ahead of Mike and Frank."

"I bet they're pissed off," I threw back at my wife of three years with a grin, neither of the two guys mentioned having impressed me overly. 

"More than you can imagine John," she murmured distractedly. "More than you could imagine."

"So when do you start honey," I responded brightly, somewhat surprised at her lack of enthusiasm. Kim had always been so full of life and loved her job so much.

"That's the point John," she smiled back at me. "Thought I ought to run it passed you first."

"What's to run through Kim? It's a fantastic opportunity. Where's the problem?"

"The travelling John," she answered me quietly, and even then after a pause. "I'd be away two nights a month in France, and another two nights in Denmark. That's Gerald's regular schedule and the new job means I would have to go with him."

"I know that Kim," I responded. "We both knew that and discussed it before you even applied for the job. "I'm Ok with it, so what's the problem?"

"Gerald," she answered simply.

"But why," I encouraged her, not understanding her reluctance to accept what she had been chasing for the last two years. To seize the chance to make that magic leap into upper management while still in her twenties. 

"Gerald has made it clear that when he travels he always books a suite," Kim stated, looking up and staring me in the eye. "The best suite in the hotel normally."

"So what's the problem honey," I protested. "He wants a suite -- he pays for it. What's the problem?"

Kim's eyes had not left mine for a moment.

She sighed.

She sounded so conflicted.

"That's all he books," she answered my question at last.

"So what," I shot back. "What difference does that make to ......"

At which point I broke off, as it hit me like a train, exactly what difference it could make to Kim. To both of us.

"Just one suite?"

"Just the one."

"No separate room for you Kim?"

"Exactly!"

"The bastard really expects you to .... Well you know ... to ....."

I shuddered to a halt unable to put words to my accusations.

"He both expects it and demands it," Kim replied steadily. "He made it very clear that Mary, who I would be replacing, has been ... let's say accompanying him for the last three years or so, and that I would be expected to replace her in every facet of her situation."

"You mean become his fuck-toy," I spat out angrily.

"There is that of course," Kim mumbled quietly, having already lost all eye contact with me. "Then again honey, it would mean an immediate forty percent raise in salary plus bonuses and in two or three years time ....? Well, who knows? Mary's done her stint and she's about to made a director of one of the ancillary companies."

Silence reigned while I fought to regain my senses and Kim ...? Well I didn't know what she was thinking. This was everything she had set her sights on since leaving university, full of ability and with an incredible lust for success in the business world. So much so, that it had caused one or two rocky moments in our route to married bliss, as my somewhat laid back attitude clashed with her corporate aims. Ok, so I'd graduated as well, but had put my efforts into building up our family's building business, and wasn't afraid of picking up a shovel and joining in with the concrete gang. I didn't live in the same world sometimes as my gorgeous wife, but it had never been a serious problem.

At least, it hadn't been till now!

"So what did you say to him Kim?" I spoke up at last, my mind confused by what she'd hit me with, my throat going dry as I saw my marriage, so wonderful till then, going straight down the pan. 

"When I left him, I told him that I'd come and tell you what he'd said. See how you felt." Kim mumbled, and then shocked me with her final comment. "I told him that you might want to go and discuss it with him."

"No way Kim," I burst out angrily, the stupid cow. "No bloody way am I going to see the bastard, and no way is any wife of mine going to become some ponce's fuckbuddy. No damn way!"

I started to get out of my chair before I really lost my temper, intending to storm out of the room before doing something I'd regret. I came to a halt as I looked up my wife expecting her to be upset, defiant, angry or something, and certainly not with the puzzled look she had on her face.

"I'm pissed off that you would even consider such a suggestion," I snapped at her.

"What?" she cried back at me.

"You heard!"

"And I'm pissed of with you John that you would ever think that I would consider anything like that," Kim shouted back at me.

"What?"

"You heard!"

Stalemate!

The pair of us glared at one another, neither of us knowing what to say next.

I broke first.

"Kim, you just told me that you said you'd come home and tell me about it," I said, my anger ebbing and flowing as if it didn't know where to go.

"Damn right I did," Kim answered back. "That was just before I kneed him in the nuts and told him where to stick his damn job."

"But what about me going to discuss it with him?" I asked in confusion.

"Damn right I did," she repeated. "I know what you're like, you big lug, all six foot four of you. Gerald must have pissed himself at the thought of you going along and giving him a good hiding for suggesting such a thing to your woman."

"I think somehow honey that there may have been some confusion here," I said, quietly, calmly. "At the beginning there, I got the impression that you were really considering it."

"Oh how could you think such a thing you silly man," Kim chuckled, stepping up to me and throwing her arms round me. "I was so upset when I came in that I may not have explained it right, and I was worried that you might over react if I just came straight out with it."

"Me. Over react?" I puffed up, cuddling my wife up close. "Why would you think such a thing?"

"That guy that tweaked my boob at that bar the other week, for example?" She shot back, questioningly.

"Ah yes!" I had to admit. "There was that. But at least I ran him to the hospital when I calmed down."

"And his two friends," she reminded me, grinning up at me.

"So what now Kim?" I asked, enjoying the feel of her tits pressed hard against me. "Looks like you haven't got a job."

"With your business John, we've never really needed the money. Time for plan B."

"Plan B?"

"Babies John," she squealed happily. "Lots of them and as soon as possible."

That sounded good!

---------------

I did go and see her old boss Gerald, but never touched the bugger. I took my lawyer with me and he settled out of court. Unfair dismissal and sexual harassment charges frightened the life out of him, and I don't suppose me sitting there scowling at him helped any.

We settled for a sum that had an extra nought on the end of any figure I imagined possible, and that will make a nice nest egg for the twins when they arrive in a couple of months.

Life is good!



No Way _ Mary



Well here's another submission.

Sorry, as usual no hard sex.

The story line is maybe rather unlikely, but possible, and I believe that is what stories are all about.

I hope you enjoy it anyway.

-----------------

I suppose I've known Mary since she was born. Not the actual day she was born of course, but even as a four year old, I can still remember my Mum telling me that Mrs. Jones down the street had just had a new baby.

Odd that I should remember that one single event, but of course the brand new little baby was to feature so prominently in my life.

We grew up together in our little street, Brookdene Road in South East London, and even went to the same school, Bannockburn Primary in Plumstead, a suburb of Woolwich, which is in Greenwich. Hope that's not too confusing, but London is an awfully big place. Not exactly the poshest part of Greenwich I might add, but a good place to be bought up in, at least when I was a lad.

We were never childhood sweethearts or anything, as I was always that bit older than her, but she was a good friend of my youngest sister, our parents were friends, and somehow I cannot remember her ever not being around.

We got into our teens, and I started noticing her in a different way, but not till I was gone twenty did I ever actually take her out. 

Once I did, we became un-separable, like a couple just meant to be, and as a few more years past, we thought of marriage and spending our lives together.

It almost goes without saying that I took her virginity though she was somewhat too late to take mine, and soon after we announced to our parents that we wanted to marry. They were ecstatic with the news, and sure enough on her eighteenth birthday, we tied the knot.

There we were, nearly ten years later, me running my own business selling construction equipment, and Mary long since a stay at home mum. Two kids made up our family, Tom junior a lad of seven, and Jilly our beautiful young five year old daughter.

I had a lovely and loving family, and everything seemed so perfect, nothing could go wrong.

--------------------

I remember quite clearly it was a Friday night in July, a warm, but not too hot evening. The kids had been packed off to stay with Mary's parents for the week end, and we were going out for the night with another couple, John and Tracy, a couple of years younger than us, who we'd known for almost as long as we'd known one another.

John was in insurance, a manager of some kind, and his wife worked at the Woolwich Building Society nearby. She was a pretty enough thing I suppose, but not really my type, with breasts just a bit too big for my liking, and legs that were OK, but not a patch on my Mary's. 

OK, so I like my women slim classy and pretty. Not too tall, nice shapely long legs, breasts tight and pert rather than big, and a nice cute little bottom, with shape, but not too rounded.

Dammit ___ I've given the game away, and just described my wife Mary. 

We'd already eaten at a local restaurant and decided to go on to a club. John seemed to know all about the local places, and which were current and which were passé, so we just followed his lead, ending up in a hotel with a club in the basement, the far side of Greenwich, which I for one had never been in before.

I had to admit it was quite classy, no scruffy youngsters to spoil the atmosphere, most of the clientele being well dressed and fairly affluent looking.

We ordered our drinks and they were delivered by a pretty young waitress wearing an outfit that looked good on her, displaying her tight young body without being too blatant.

John winked at me, and I smiled back. I had no idea what he was trying to tell me, but doubtless it was something to do with the young waitress.

I never found out.

"Hi Tom," came the voice from behind me, and I looked round to see who had greeted me.

OH BUGGER ___ I was in trouble. Big trouble.

"Didn't know you came in here," she continued, smiling at my little group and me.

"Hello Cath," I responded, my mouth dry as I tried to stay calm, and adding as quickly as possible, "This is my WIFE Mary, and our friends John and Tracy."

I emphasized 'wife' to make sure she caught on, as I didn't want her saying the wrong thing. Even so my pulse rate must have rocketed, and I felt myself sweating.

"Hi everyone," said Cath, smiled pleasantly and moved on, glancing back over her shoulder as she mingled with the crowd.

The two girls looked at me enquiringly, obviously wondering who the rather gorgeous blonde girl in the short revealing dress had been. But it was John who asked the question; put his foot in it really, and I could have killed him.

"How the hell do you know her Tom?" He demanded with a smile on his face. He wasn't stupid wasn't John, but sometimes he spoke before he realized what he was saying. "You know what she does for a living don't you? She's a ........"

He ground to a halt, at last realizing what he was about to say.

"Christ Tom, I'm sorry," he eventually continued, and of course that made it even worse.

"She's a what?" Asked Tracy his wife, not acting as bright as one would have expected.

John signaled her to shut up, and the truth dawned on her. "Oh," was all she said.

Mary was looking daggers at me, and her face was going a bit red.

Oh Christ this was going to take some explaining!

"So," remarked my wife at last. "We now all know what your friend Cath does for a living, but the question is my dear husband, how do you know her, and how well?"

It was one of those moments, when if I said the wrong thing, then all hell would break loose. Mary looked as if she was about to explode, and the other two were busy studying some imaginary thing on the other side of the room.

In these circumstances honesty is always the best policy, but of course that is not always possible when facing an increasingly angry wife. 

Fortunately for me, I could tell the truth. It was something that I'd prefer not to have had to explain, but it was a damn site better than the conclusions my good wife was coming to.

"Cath's my contact," I started to explain. "You know I sell a lot of equipment overseas, and quite often I have to arrange ... eh ... well eh ... well 'entertainment' for some of my clients."

"She's a bloody hooker," Mary burst out. "You do business with a bloody prostitute."

"Cath prefers to call herself an escort girl," I mumbled uneasily, not sure how that was going to ease the situation.

"Escort, prostitute, whore or bloody hooker," she continued in an angry tone. "What difference does it make what you call her?"

"I only use her to arrange things for other guys, my clients," I pleaded, looking round in some embarrassment at the people around us, as our argument attracted their attention. "I've never actually used her myself."

"And I'm supposed to believe that am I?" Mary shot at me, glaring at me. Mary was a bit of a prude about these things, and I'd never confided in her some of the less respectable methods I used to acquire my orders. 

'When in Rome, do as the Romans do' as they say. The guy I'd taken my business over from had done it, and I'd simply continued the practice. Five hundred quid to some fancy tart to get an order for half a million wasn't a bad return, but I didn't think it the right moment to try to explain that to Mary.

We glared at one another for several minutes in silence, me not knowing what to say, and Mary, I suspected, deciding whether to walk out or not.

"Why not ask her Mary?" interjected Tracy. "Just ask her if he's been fucking her."

Tracy was nothing if not direct.

"Oh Christ Tracy, keep your mouth shut," mumbled her husband John, and he put his head in his hands, shaking it in disbelief.

Even he didn't believe me!

Bloody hell I was in trouble.

"Should I do that then Tom," Mary almost spat at me. "Look, she's coming back over this way. Should I ask her what you two have got up to?"

Why not, I thought, and that's exactly what I said to her. Couldn't get any worse than it was.

Mary continued to glare at me, not sure what to do. Mary, God bless her, had led a somewhat sheltered life, and had probably never even knowingly seen a hooker, never mind speak to one face to face. 

She slowly unwound herself, half standing and raising her hand to attract Cath's attention.

I held my breath.

The other two said nothing.

"Hi Mary," Cath greeted her when she came over, obviously having a good memory for names. Guess that was handy in her business.

"Everything Ok? What can I do for you?"

Mary was a bit lost for words, and I let out my breath at last.

A grin came over John's face as he stared at Cath's long bare legs till Tracy nudged him hard in the ribs.

"I was just wondering Cath," started my wife at long last. "Well I was just wondering ___ that is I was thinking. Well not exactly thinking, more of ___ well...."

"Whether your husband is a client of mine?" Cath asked confidently, a hint of a smile on her lips. "If that's what you were wondering, then the answer is no!"

She stood there, the two of them studying one another for some time.

"Then how ___ that is why ....." Mary tried to ask.

"How do I know Tom? Why do I know him?" responded Cath, before Mary could even form the correct question.

Mary nodded her head. She did at least seem to be calming down a little.

"Tom directs clients our way," Cath told her. "And before you ask, he's had plenty of opportunity to try out the wares, and has always refused. Even when it would have been a freebie," she added.

A smile formed slowly on Mary's face, and I seemed to have been saved. She pulled up a spare chair and motioned Cath to sit down beside her, and before I knew it, they were deep in conversation. 

Incredible! Absolutely incredible.

There was my sweet and innocent wife, who'd only ever been in bed with one man in her life, and that was me, chatting amiably with a full time hooker, who'd probably screwed more men than Mary had had orgasms. 

Well, maybe not. At least I hoped not, but you know what I mean.

Within minutes they were giggling and laughing together as if they'd been life long friends discussing boyfriends or something. At one point they both looked round at me as Mary said "I don't know really, as I've nothing to compare it with. But I think so. Well I hope so." 

They then both laughed out loud, making me blush. After Tracy joined them, there was no stopping the three of them, as they quite clearly continued to discuss John and I, maybe comparing us with other men that Cath knew.

John and I tried to talk about football, and how Arsenal had been held to a four all draw against Spurs, but our heart wasn't in it, and we tried, but without much success to eavesdrop on what the three of them were discussing. 

"Really!" cried out Mary in surprise, at something that Cath had said. "You could. Just like that and they'd know somehow?"

"Yes of course," replied Cath, grinning like a little schoolgirl. "I used to do it all the time before I started working for the escort agency. I'll show you if you want."

The other two enthusiastically agreed, nodding their heads and encouraging her. Cath pulled her chair slightly to one side, crossed her elegant shapely long legs, stuck her breasts out just a little provocatively, and leant back in her chair in a pose that nearly knocked my socks off.

John sighed deeply, but this time Tracy just smiled knowingly at him.

I'd always known Cath was a beautiful woman, but even I was surprised at how stunning she looked. How she radiated sexuality that could be detected from the other side of the club.

"Here comes one," she whispered to the other two. "Doesn't look too bad either, so maybe I might see you later."

A well-dressed guy of about forty odd came walking up, narrowly beating another younger chap to ask Cath for a dance. With a smile at Mary and Tracy, Cath stood up, took his arm, and traipsed out onto the dance floor with him.

Our wives clapped their hands together in some sort of joy, some sort of admiration, and chatted animatedly to one another.

"Did you see that?" I heard one of them say, then, "Wasn't that something?" Said the other.

John and I continued to sit there, gob-smacked at the reaction of our otherwise so prim wives, astonished that they could possibly mesh in with a working girl like Cath, and even more astonished that the pair of them would admire how she had just pulled a client.

"Oh look Tracy, she's hooked him already," gurgled my wife in admiration as Cath waved discretely to them, as she led her conquest away from the dance floor and towards the lifts to the upper floors.

"Wow!" said Tracy, as Cath disappeared from view with her new client.

"Dammit, that was impressive," added Mary, her eyes still glued to the door that they had just disappeared through.

I coughed, and John cleared his throat.

"Sorry," said our two wives together. "Did you see how she operated?"

John and I nodded our heads. I guess we'd both seen that sort of thing before.

"I couldn't do that," spoke out Tracy. "Bloody hell I'd like to try it, but I just couldn't do it."

"Hang on old girl," broke in her husband immediately. "I'm not having you getting mixed up in anything like that.

The two girls had a fit of giggling, Mary almost falling off her chair.

"Of course we wouldn't go through with it silly," she said through her laughter as she straightened herself up, but it would be incredible to pull a guy like that just for a laugh."

"Bet you couldn't," dared Tracy. "Bet you wouldn't even try."

"What do you think Tom," she asked me. "Do you think I could pull some guy?"

"Your body is as good as Cath's," I told her. "But it's a matter of attitude Mary, and I'm sorry honey, but I don't think you've quite got it."

Well, that was like a red flag to a bull wasn't it.

"Oh no?" Mary giggled. "Then just watch this. I bet I can get someone to ask me to dance within five minutes."

With that she hitched up her skirt, even higher than Cath had done, crossed her long legs, stuck her tits out, and posed, copying Cath to a tee.

I'd never seen her looking so sexy. In fact I'd never seen her displaying herself so immodestly. My prim, almost meek little wife was posing like a sex goddess seeking her prey.

It didn't take five minutes, and in fact didn't even take two. I guess the predators had spotted that one attractive girl had already been prised from our table, and had their eyes out for what else might become available.

It was the younger guy, the one who had been beaten to Cath who got there first, a couple of others coming to an embarrassing halt just a few yards short, when they realized that they had been beaten by a head.

"Of course I'll dance with you," answered Mary when he asked, and she stood up and took his proffered hand without so much as a by your leave to me.

They took to the floor, and I got a little uncomfortable at how close he held her. But I'm not naturally the jealous type, so I laughed it off when the other two pointed it out.

They past us once, and Mary stuck her tongue out at me, which made me grin till I realized that she was doing nothing about his hand, which was stroking her bottom just a little too much familiarilty.

She was teasing me of course. Not something she did often, and certainly not so blatantly, but that is what she was doing I was sure.

"You OK with this Tom? Asked John, wondering how I would react.

"No problem," I told him. "She's just having a bit of fun."

I don't know what the guy was saying to her, but I saw her shake her head a few times, which was at least reassuring, which was more than I could say for how close he was holding her.

The dance ended, and he led her back to our table, and I started to relax. I have to admit that I was getting just a bit worried. It was only then that I spotted quite how flushed she was. Her eyes were burning bright, and her cheeks were reddening.

"This is Mark," she introduced him, and then gave all three of us a huge wink, which he would not have been able to see. I didn't know what it was about, but she had obviously been playing him along, and wanted us to follow her lead.

I nodded my head discretely, indicating, I hoped, that I understood what she was about.

"Mark wants to know if you could spare me for a while. He's got a room here and wants some company."

"Spluuuurge!"

I nearly choked on my drink, and I noticed John's eyes bulge.

"She's kidding you fools," whispered Tracy. "She's just joking. Play along with it."

I couldn't bring myself to respond, so I shrugged my shoulders, feigning indifference, and Mary turned to her suiter, and told him it would be OK.

"How much?" He asked. "How much do you charge for an hour or so?"

My wife pressed herself up against him, rubbing her body sensually up against his. Bloody hell she was getting into this. I'd never seen her acting that way.

"I'm not cheap," she told him. "I don't go with anyone for less than four hundred quid."

The guy looked a little shocked, and I realized with a grin quite what her plan was. She'd obviously talked to Cath earlier about how much the girls charged, and four hundred pounds for a quickie was way out of order. No way would this guy accept a price as ridiculously high as that.

"How about two hundred?" He offered after some thought.

Quite reasonable realy, though of course he had no chance.

"No way baby," she told him, rubbing her tight little breasts against his chest, and her leg sensually up against thigh. "It's four hundred or nothing big boy. Take it or leave it."

Now I have to say, that I've never been one to imagine my missus with another man. That's just something that's never turned me on. Not something I've even thought about. But secure in the knowledge that she was just leading him on, it really got to me seeing her like that, and I was obliged to rearrange my legs under the table to accommodate my erection. 

This was really quite amusing as well; watching Mary pretending she was a whore, giving us secretive little looks and winks to confirm that she was still in charge.

I wondered how long she would keep it up, and how the guy would get out of his predicament. Nobody really likes looking a skinflint in front of other people, and I actually started to feel quite sorry for him.

"Ok, four hundred it is then!"

Oh shit! Oh fuck! ____ he'd agreed to it.

I looked over at Mary, and her confident look had been replaced by one of mild panic. Some colour drained from her face, when the guy fished a wad of money from his pocket, and he counted out eight fifty-pound notes onto the table.

I couldn't help but smile. She'd got herself into this spot, so what the hell was she going to do to get herself out of it?

It would certainly teach her a lesson, that was for sure.

I almost chuckled aloud.

He took her arm, and started to guide her away from the table, and Mary meekly followed him, her legs visibly wobbling, and threatening to buckle under her.

"Tom __ Tom," urged John. "Don't just sit there man ___ do something."

I was at a loss, but started to rise from my seat, only to see that at last Mary had come to her senses. She'd stopped some fifteen feet from us, and was pushing his hand off her arm. He tried to grab her, but she leant over and said something to him and he relaxed, let go of her, and stood there while she came unsteadily back to our table, and extremely odd look on her face.

"Quick Tom, give me the four hundred quid. I'll have to give it back to him or I'm in trouble."

Well that was pretty obvious, wasn't it?

I gave the money to her, and offered to go give it back to him. 

"No," she said quietly. "I haven't really been very fair with him, cheating him like that."




No Way _ Mary: Alternative



Well, not many people liked the end to this story when I originally submitted it a few weeks ago.

Worst marks I've ever recorded.

I am suitably chastised, bow in submission to my readers, and humbly seek your forgiveness.

If there are any very pretty young ladies out there who felt especially aggrieved, then I would happily submit to their chosen chastisement. (Preferably n/s, on the slim side, with nice legs and boobs not too big please)

I guess I did duck out of a bit, and it was a bit lazy of me to end it like that. Don't like it myself too much now that I've read it again. 

Anyway, I've had another go and given it a different ending completely!

The body of the story is more or less the same, but even there I've made some changes, so you might wish to read it all again.

Hope you prefer this version.

-----------------

I suppose I've known Mary since she was born. Not the actual day she was born of course, but even as a four year old, I can still remember my Mum telling me that Mrs. Jones down the street had just had a new baby.

Odd that I should remember that one single event, but of course the brand new little baby was to feature so prominently in my life.

We grew up together in our little street, Brookdene Road in South East London, and even went to the same school, Bannockburn Primary in Plumstead, a suburb of Woolwich, which is in Greenwich. Hope that's not too confusing, but London is an awfully big place. Not exactly the poshest part of Greenwich I might add, but a good place to be bought up in, at least when I was a lad.

We were never childhood sweethearts or anything, as I was always that bit older than her, but she was a good friend of my youngest sister, our parents were friends, and somehow I cannot remember her ever not being around.

We got into our teens, and I started noticing her in a different way, but not till I was gone twenty did I ever actually take her out. 

Once I did, we became un-separable, like a couple just meant to be, and as a few more years past, we thought of marriage and spending our lives together.

It almost goes without saying that I took her virginity though she was somewhat too late to take mine, and soon after we announced to our parents that we wanted to marry. They were ecstatic with the news, and sure enough soon after her eighteenth birthday, we tied the knot.

There we were, nearly ten years later, me running my own business selling construction equipment, and Mary long since a stay at home mum. Two kids made up our family, Tom junior a lad of seven, and Jilly our beautiful young five year old daughter.

I had a lovely and loving family, and everything seemed so perfect, nothing could go wrong.

--------------------

I remember quite clearly it was a Friday night in July, a warm, but not too hot evening. The kids had been packed off to stay with Mary's parents for the week end, and we were going out for the night with another couple, John and Tracy, a couple of years younger than us, who we'd known for almost as long as we'd known one another.

John was in insurance, a manager of some kind, and his wife worked at the Woolwich Building Society nearby. She was a pretty enough thing I suppose, but not really my type, with breasts just a bit too big for my liking, and legs that were OK, but not a patch on my Mary's. 

OK, so I like my women slim, classy and pretty. Not too tall, nice shapely long legs, breasts tight and pert rather than big, and a nice cute little bottom, with shape, but not too rounded.

Dammit ___ I've given the game away, and just described my wife Mary. 

We'd already eaten at a local restaurant and decided to go on to a club. John seemed to know all about the local places, and which were current and which were passé, so we just followed his lead, ending up in a hotel with a club in the basement, the far side of Greenwich, which I for one had never been in before.

I had to admit it was quite classy, no scruffy youngsters to spoil the atmosphere, most of the clientele being well dressed and fairly affluent looking.

We ordered our drinks and they were delivered by a pretty young waitress wearing an outfit that looked good on her, displaying her tight young body without being too blatant.

John winked at me, and I smiled back. I had no idea what he was trying to tell me, but doubtless it was something to do with the young waitress.

I never found out.

"Hi Tom," came the voice from behind me, and I looked round to see who had greeted me.

OH BUGGER ___ I was in trouble. Big trouble.

"Didn't know you came in here," she continued, smiling at my little group and me.

"Hello Cath," I responded, my mouth dry as I tried to stay calm, and adding as quickly as possible, "This is my WIFE Mary, and our friends John and Tracy."

I emphasized 'wife' to make sure she caught on, as I didn't want her saying the wrong thing. Even so my pulse rate must have rocketed, and I felt myself beginning to sweat.

"Hi everyone," said Cath, smiled pleasantly at everyone, and moved on, glancing back over her shoulder as she mingled with the crowd.

The two girls looked at me enquiringly, obviously wondering who the rather gorgeous blonde girl in the short revealing dress and high heels had been. But it was John who asked the question; put his foot in it really, and I could have killed him. Maybe I should have murdered him right there and then.

"How the hell do you know her Tom?" He demanded with a smile on his face. He wasn't stupid wasn't John, but sometimes he spoke before he realized what he was saying. "You know what she does for a living don't you? She's a ........"

He ground to a halt, embarrassed, at last realizing what he was about to say.

"Christ Tom, I'm sorry," he eventually continued, and of course that made it even worse.

"She's a what?" Asked Tracy his wife, not acting as bright as one would have expected.

John signaled her to shut up, and the truth dawned on her. "Oh," was all she said.

Mary was looking daggers at me, and her face was going a bit red.

Oh Christ this was going to take some explaining!

"So," remarked my wife at last. "We now all know what your friend Cath does for a living, but the question is my dear husband, how do you know her, and how well?"

It was one of those defining moments, when if I said the wrong thing, then all hell would break loose. Mary looked as if she was about to explode, and the other two were busy studying some imaginary thing on the other side of the room, which had mysteriously caught their attention.

I was tempted to ask John how the hell he knew what Cath did, but didn't. It wasn't going to get me off the hook.

In these circumstances honesty is always the best policy, but of course that is not always possible when facing an increasingly angry wife. 

Fortunately for me, I could tell the truth. It was something that I'd prefer not to have had to explain, but it was a damn site better than the conclusions my good wife was rapidly coming to.

"Cath's my contact," I started to explain. "You know I sell a lot of equipment overseas, and quite often I have to arrange ... eh ... well eh ... well 'entertainment' for some of my clients."

"She's a bloody hooker," Mary burst out. "You do business with a bloody prostitute."

"Cath prefers to call herself an escort girl," I mumbled uneasily, not sure how that was going to ease the situation.

"Escort, prostitute, whore or bloody hooker," she continued in an angry tone. "What difference does it make what you call her?"

"I only use her to arrange things for other guys, my clients," I pleaded, looking round in some embarrassment at the people around us, as our argument attracted their attention. "I've never actually used her myself."

"And I'm supposed to believe that am I?" Mary shot at me, glaring angrily at me. Mary was a bit of a prude about these things, and I'd never confided in her some of the less respectable methods I used to acquire some of my orders. 

'When in Rome, do as the Romans do' as they say. The guy I'd taken my business over from had done it, and I'd simply continued the practice. Five hundred quid to some fancy tart to get an order for half a million wasn't a bad return, but I didn't think it the right moment to try to explain that to Mary.

We glared at one another for several minutes in silence, me not knowing what to say, and Mary, I suspected, deciding whether to walk out on me or not.

"Why not ask her Mary?" interjected Tracy. "Just ask her if he's been fucking her."

Tracy was nothing if not direct.

"Oh Christ Tracy, keep your mouth shut," mumbled her husband John, and he put his head in his hands, shaking it in disbelief.

Even he didn't believe me!

Bloody hell I was in trouble.

"Should I do that then Tom," Mary almost spat at me. "Look, she's coming back over this way. Should I ask her what you two have got up to?"

Why not I thought, and that's exactly what I said to her. Couldn't get any worse for me than it was.

Mary continued to glare at me, not sure what to do. Mary, God bless her, had led a somewhat sheltered life, and had probably never even knowingly seen a hooker, never mind speak to one face to face. 

She slowly unwound herself, half standing and raising her hand to attract Cath's attention.

I held my breath.

The other two said nothing.

"Hi Mary," Cath greeted her when she came over, obviously having a good memory for names. Guess that was handy in her business.

"Everything Ok? What can I do for you?"

Mary was a bit lost for words, and I let out my breath at last.

A grin came over John's face as he stared at Cath's long, shapely, bare legs and trim ankles just a foot or so from his face. That is until Tracy nudged him hard in the ribs.

"I was just wondering Cath," started my wife at long last. "Well I was just wondering ___ that is I was thinking. Well not exactly thinking, more of ___ well...."

"Whether your husband is a client of mine?" Cath asked confidently, the hint of a smile on her lips. "If that's what you were wondering, then the answer is no!"

She stood there, the two of them studying one another for some time.

"Then how ___ that is why ....." Mary tried to ask.

"How do I know Tom? Why do I know him?" responded Cath, before Mary could even form the correct question.

Mary nodded her head. She did at least seem to be calming down a little.

"Tom directs clients our way," Cath told her. "And before you ask, he's had plenty of opportunity to try out the wares, and has always refused. Even when it would have been a freebie," she added.

"Pity really," she commented in a half whisper as she looked over at me.

Fortunately Mary decided to ignore that last remark, and a smile formed slowly on her face.

I seemed to have been saved. She pulled up a spare chair and motioned Cath to sit down beside her, and before I knew it, they were deep in conversation. 

Incredible! Absolutely incredible.

There was my sweet and innocent wife, who'd only ever been in bed with one man in her life, and that was me, chatting amiably with a full time hooker, who'd probably screwed more men than Mary had had orgasms. 

Well, maybe not that. At least I certainly hoped not ___ but you know what I mean.

Within minutes they were giggling and laughing together as if they'd been life long friends discussing boyfriends or something. At one point they both looked round at me as Mary said "I don't know really, as I've nothing to compare it with. But I think so. Well I hope so." 

They then both laughed out loud, making me blush. After Tracy pulled her chair over and joined them, there was no stopping the three of them, as they quite clearly continued to discuss John and I, maybe comparing us with other men that Cath knew.

John and I tried to talk about football, and how Arsenal had been held to a four all draw against Spurs, but our heart wasn't in it, and we tried, but without much success to eavesdrop on what the three of them were discussing. 

"Really!" cried out Mary loudly, in surprise at something that Cath had said. "You could. Just like that and they'd know somehow?"

"Yes of course," replied Cath, grinning like a little schoolgirl. "I used to do it all the time before I started getting my dates through the escort agency. I'm not really working at the moment, but I'll show you if you want."

The other two enthusiastically agreed, nodding their heads and encouraging her. Cath pulled her chair slightly to one side, crossed her elegant shapely long legs, pulled her skirt up even a little further, and stuck her breasts out just a little provocatively. Then she leant back in her chair in a pose that nearly blew my socks off.

John sighed deeply, but this time Tracy just smiled knowingly at him. She realized that he couldn't help it poor soul.

I'd always known Cath was a beautiful woman, but even I was surprised at how stunning she looked. How she radiated sexuality that could be detected from the other side of the club.

"Here comes one," she whispered to the other two. "Doesn't look too bad either, so maybe I might see you later."

A well-dressed guy of about forty odd came walking up, narrowly beating another younger chap to ask Cath for a dance. With a smile at Mary and Tracy, Cath stood up, tossed her hair sexily, took his arm, and traipsed out onto the dance floor with him, her backside swaying seductively, maybe for our benefit, as she went off with him.

Our wives clapped their hands together in some sort of joy, some sort of admiration, and chatted animatedly to one another.

"Did you see that?" I heard one of them say, then, "Wasn't that something?" Said the other.

John and I continued to sit there, gob-smacked at the reaction of our otherwise so prim wives, astonished that they could possibly mesh in so easily with a working girl like Cath, and even more astonished that the pair of them would admire how she had just pulled a potential client.

"Oh look Tracy, she's hooked him already," gurgled my wife in admiration as Cath waved discretely to them, as she led her conquest away from the dance floor and towards the lifts to the upper floors.

"Wow!" said Tracy, as Cath disappeared from view with her new client.

"Dammit, that was impressive," added Mary, her eyes still glued to the door that they had just disappeared through.

I coughed, and John cleared his throat.

"Sorry," said our two wives together. "Did you see how she operated?"

John and I nodded our heads. I guess we'd both seen that sort of thing before. Maybe not executed quite as well as that mind you though.

"I couldn't do that," spoke out Tracy. "Bloody hell I wish I could, but I just couldn't do it."

"Hang on old girl," broke in her husband immediately. "I'm not having you getting mixed up in anything like that.

The two girls had a fit of giggling, Mary almost falling off her chair.

"Of course we wouldn't go through with it silly," said my wife through her laughter as she helped Tracy straighten herself up. "But it would be incredible to pull a guy like that just for a laugh."

"Bet you couldn't," dared Tracy. "Bet you wouldn't even try."

"What do you think Tom," she asked me. "Do you think I could pull some guy by flashing my legs off and sticking my boobs out?"

"Your body is as good as Cath's," I told her, and it was true. Slimmer with smaller breasts maybe, but none the less bloody gorgeous. "But it's a matter of attitude Mary, and I'm sorry honey, but I don't think you've quite got it."

Well, that was like waving a red flag to a bull wasn't it.

"Oh no?" Mary retorted. "Then just watch this. I bet I can get someone to ask me to dance within five minutes."

With that she hitched up her skirt, even higher than Cath had done, crossed her long legs, stuck her tits out, and posed, copying Cath to a tee.

Her boobs didn't stick out quite as far as Cath's had done, but I'd never seen her looking so sexy. In fact I'd never seen her displaying herself so immodestly. My prim, almost meek little wife was posing like a sex goddess seeking her prey.

It didn't take five minutes, and in fact didn't even take two. I guess the predators had spotted that one attractive girl had already been prised from our table, and had their eyes out for what else might become available.

It was the younger guy, the one who had been beaten to Cath who got there first, a couple of others coming to an embarrassing halt just a few yards short, when they realized that they had been beaten by a head.

"Of course I'll dance with you," answered Mary when he asked, and she stood up and took his proffered hand without so much as a by your leave to me. 

They took to the floor, and she turned back to look at us once, pulling a face at me cheekily. I got a little uncomfortable at how close he held her, but I'm not naturally the jealous type, so I laughed it off when the other two pointed it out.

They past us once, and Mary stuck her tongue out at me, which made me grin till I realized that she was doing nothing about his hand, which was stroking her bottom just a little too low for my liking, and with a tad too much familiarity.

She was teasing me of course. Not something she did often, and certainly not so blatantly, but that is what she was doing I was sure.

"You OK with this Tom? Asked John, wondering how I would react.

"No problem," I told him. "She's just having a bit of fun."

I don't know what the guy was saying to her, but I saw her shake her head a few times, which was at least reassuring, which was more than I could say for how close he was holding her.

The dance ended, and he led her back to our table, and I started to relax. I have to admit that I was getting just a bit worried. It was only then that I spotted quite how flushed she was. Her eyes were burning bright, and her cheeks were reddening.

"This is Mark," she introduced him a little breathlessly, and then gave all three of us a huge wink, which he would not have been able to see. I didn't know what it was about, but she had obviously been playing him along, and wanted us to follow her lead. 

I nodded my head discretely, indicating, I hoped, that I understood what she was about.

"Mark wants to know if you could spare me for a while. He's got a room here and wants some company."

"Spluuuurge!"

I nearly choked on my drink, and I noticed John's eyes bulge.

"She's kidding you fools," whispered Tracy. "She's just joking. Play along with it."

I couldn't bring myself to respond, so I shrugged my shoulders, feigning indifference, and Mary turned to her suitor, and told him it would be OK.

"How much?" He asked. "How much do you charge for an hour or so?"

My wife put her arm round his waist and pressed herself up against him, rubbing her body sensually up against his. Bloody hell she was getting into this. I'd never seen her acting that way, and though it was actually turning me on a bit, I wasn't at all sure that I liked it.

"I'm not cheap," she told him. "I don't go with anyone for less than four hundred quid."

The guy looked a little shocked, and I realized with a grin quite what her plan was. She'd obviously talked to Cath earlier about how much the girls charged, and four hundred pounds for a quickie was way out of order. No way would this guy accept a price as ridiculously high as that.

"How about two hundred?" He offered after some thought.

Quite reasonable really. He had no chance of course, but he didn't know that.

"No way baby," she told him, rubbing her tight little breasts against his chest, and her leg sensually up against thigh. "It's four hundred or nothing big boy. Take it or leave it."

Now I have to say, that I've never been one to imagine my missus with another man. That's just something that's never turned me on. Not something I've even thought about. But secure in the knowledge that she was just leading him on, it really got to me seeing her like that, and I was obliged to rearrange my legs under the table to accommodate my erection. 




No Way _ Mary: Alternative



This was really quite amusing as well; watching Mary pretending she was a whore, giving us secretive little looks and winks to confirm that she was still in charge.

I wondered how long she would keep it up, and how the guy would get out of his predicament. Nobody really likes looking a skinflint in front of other people, and I actually started to feel quite sorry for him.

"Ok, four hundred it is then!"

Oh shit! Oh fuck! ____ he'd agreed to it.

I looked over at Mary, and her confident look had been replaced by one of mild panic. Some colour drained from her face, when the guy fished a wad of money from his pocket, and he counted out eight fifty-pound notes onto the table.

I couldn't help but smile. She'd got herself into this spot, so what the hell was she going to do to get herself out of it?

It would certainly teach her a lesson, that was for sure.

I almost chuckled aloud.

He took her arm, and started to guide her away from the table, and Mary meekly followed him, her legs visibly wobbling, and threatening to buckle under her.

"Tom __ Tom," urged John. "Don't just sit there man ___ do something."

I was at a loss, but started to rise from my seat, only to see that at last Mary had come to her senses. She'd stopped some fifteen feet from us, and was pushing his hand off her arm. He tried to grab her, but she leant over and said something to him and he relaxed, let go of her, and stood there while she came unsteadily back to our table, an extremely odd look on her face.

"Quick Tom, give me the four hundred quid. I'll have to give it back to him or I'm in trouble."

Well that was pretty obvious, wasn't it?

I gave the money to her, and offered to go give it back to him. 

"No," she said quietly. "I haven't really been very fair with him, cheating him like that."

She looked down at me with a pained look on her face.

"Hang on, I'll be back in a minute baby."

And with that she spun on her heels and walked equally unsteadily back to where the stranger was still standing. I didn't see her give him back the money, but presumed she had, and then she stood there talking to him for some time. 

Again Mary came back to the table, and again the stranger stood waiting.

This time she looked really quite worried.

"Look Tom," she told me. "He's pretty upset, so I've agreed to go and have just one drink at the bar with him."

"No way honey," I objected. "No bloody way."

"Please Tom," she pleaded. "It's just for a quick drink, and I'll behave myself honestly. I can't just leave the poor sod like that."

"Go on Tom," whispered John to my surprise. "He can't get up to much at the bar, and she'll be hot for you when you get home tonight."

I shrugged my shoulders reluctantly, accepting her request, and then watched her disappear over in the direction of the bar, wondering if I was doing the right thing. I wasn't at all happy that his hand had yet again dropped down on to her bottom.

"I'd be careful if I was you Tom," Tracy said to me uncertainly. "She was really turned on by what that Cath was telling her.

"Oh don't be silly," I told Tracy, and John agreed with me, adding that she'd be back any minute.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," whispered Tracy under her breath, but loud enough for me to hear it.

I chuckled to myself. What the hell did she think my innocent little wife was going to get up to for Christ's sake? She only gone out to the bar with him.

We sat there and waited, each minute the tension building up round the table. After ten minutes and no Mary I started to feel uneasy, then my stomach started to turn in circles, and ten minutes later I exploded.

"Where the fuck is she?" I almost shouted aloud. "How long does it take to have one quick drink?"

"I'll go and look for her," volunteered Tracy, and she stood up and disappeared towards the bar without waiting for my confirmation.

John and I tried again to talk about Arsenal's chances, but the words stuck in my throat. I just couldn't concentrate. I prayed that Tracy would pop back in a moment with my wife with her looking somewhat contrite.

Tracy did come back, but on her own.

"No sign of her Tom," she said. "She's not in the bar."

I looked at her. 

The pair of them were pulling my leg. This had all been a set up to get me worked up. But the look on Tracy's face told me otherwise. She wasn't pretending, and Mary had disappeared.

All three of us jumped up, and searched the bar, the dance floor, and the rest of the club, but she was nowhere to be seen.

She'd gone ___ gone off with a complete stranger, probably gone back with him to his room.

I couldn't believe it ___ couldn't accept it. Not my sweet Mary, she couldn't do something like that.

We hung around for at least an hour, watched as the place emptied until the club was closing, leaving us the last ones there. I was close to panic, and the other two were trying to calm me down, suggesting that she'd maybe gone home, maybe gone off with a pal. 

But I knew it wasn't true.

I knew who she'd gone off with.

I just couldn't understand why.

We went through to the hotel section, and I demanded at the reception if they'd seen my wife, but of course they couldn't help.

I'm afraid I began to lose my rag somewhat, and they threatened to call security.

In the end John and Tracy pulled me away, took me outside and tried to talk sense to me.

But where was the sense in it?

A short while before I'd been with my wife, the love of my life. Laughing and joking and having fun together. Then just like that, without warning she'd gone __ disappeared without trace. The lump in my gut seemed to grow and grow.

The other two wanted me to leave, and I couldn't blame them. I guess they didn't even want to be there if Mary should suddenly come sauntering back.

Then Tracy had an idea. Maybe Mary was waiting for me in our car. Maybe, just maybe she was teasing me, playing a trick on me, and she had left the club and gone to our car to wait for me, leaving me thinking that she'd gone off with that chap, and she hadn't after all.

Well, that joke had backfired, hadn't it?

I was furious with her for playing a trick like that. Bloody hell would she get an earful when I got back to the car.

We wandered out of the hotel and through to the car park towards our cars, my stomach turning somersaults, as I approached, angry with Mary, but praying that she was there ___ knowing that she'd had to be there. The other two were lighthearted, telling me not to be too hard on her, but I wasn't so sure. In my opinion she'd really gone a bit too far.

The car was empty!

My heart sank, and my hopes with it.

What to do now?

"Ring her," suggested John.

Why the hell hadn't I thought of that? So I whipped out my mobile and speed dialed her number.

It rang ___ and rang ___ and rang.

At last Tracy tapped me on the shoulder, telling me it was useless, and indicating the car. I took the phone away from my ear, and heard another ringing. It was Mary's phone ringing inside the car where she'd left it, her flimsy dress hardly giving her anywhere to carry it on her.

Flimsy dress! Oh shit!

Christ it was flimsy wasn't it. I didn't want to think about her dressed like that alone with another guy.

If she still had the dress on of course.

Damn and blast!

What to do? The other two had no more idea than me.

Then I thought of Cath; maybe she could throw some light on the matter.

My fingers shook as I rang her number, which fortunately I had stored in my mobile, and just a few rings in, she answered.

It wasn't much, but the feeling of relief that something had at last worked was almost overpowering, and my voice shook as I spoke to her, and explained what had happened.

"Oh Christ no!" She answered me. "I never imagined she would."

She sounded a little out of breath, but then again she probably had reason to by then.

"Would what," I questioned her. "What would she do?"

Cath refused to answer any more questions, but told me to go home, and await her call, then rang off before I could question her further.

"What the hell were you three talking about? What bloody stupid ideas have you put in her head?" I demanded of Tracy, spinning around to her, but she simply dropped her head and said nothing.

"Come on Tracy," insisted John. "This is serious. What on earth were you talking about?"

She took some persuading, but eventually she informed us that the three of them had talked about Cath's line of work. How Cath had told them, that though the money was good, it was the thrill and the excitement that kept her on doing it.

"So," I exploded. "So what?"

"Mary seemed to be more than a little interested in Cath's experiences," she explained. "But I honestly never, ever, imagined that she'd really take it any further."

----------------------

Back home I fidgeted and worried. I couldn't sleep so I turned on the TV.

I lost interest in the TV, so I went and found a book.

My eyes wouldn't focus on the words after a short while, so I went and got myself a cognac.

Several cognacs later, well, many cognacs later, I must have drifted off to sleep.

--------------------

I awoke with a start, wondering where I was, and what that infernal noise was.

The phone. My mobile phone was ringing, and it took me a few moments to locate the damn thing.

"Hello," I croaked into it. "Tom here."

I came to very quickly when I heard Cath's voice on the other end.

"You Ok Tom," she asked me, but I didn't answer her, just demanded if she had found Mary.

"Yes," she answered quickly. "Don't worry, I found her last night, and she's here with me now."

"Put her on Cath. I must speak to her."

"Hang on Tom. She's a bit unsure of herself, and wants to know how you feel."

"What do you mean? How do I feel? Just bloody well put her on the phone will you."

"I think she'd prefer to just come home Tom," Cath told me.

"Well tell her to come home. Come home straight away."

"You're sure about that Tom," Cath asked hesitantly.

"Of course she should come home. She's my wife and she lives here, doesn't she?"

"Even after what she did last night?"

The events of the previous night flooded back to me, and engulfed me. 

Oh God, my nightmare was true.

Mary, my wife ___ no it couldn't be true.

But at that moment I knew that it was. Mary, my childhood friend, my loving wife, the mother of my two children had sold her body, and had ..... 

Even in my mind, I couldn't say it.

"Tell her to come home," I whispered tearfully into the mouthpiece.

-----------------------

"Hello Tom."

I looked round and saw Mary standing there. I'd been so deep in my grief that I hadn't noticed the passage of time. Hadn't heard her creeping into the house.

"Well?" I questioned her, not expecting any rational answer.

We both stared at one another in silence, me sitting, her standing, for what seemed an eternity.

'I'm so sorry Tom," she said at last in little more than a whisper. "God knows what you must think of me."

I just shook my head, at a loss at what to say to her.

"Did John and Tracy realize what happened?" Mary asked, probably as more something to break the silence, than really wishing to know.

"That you prostituted your fucking body last night you bitch," I replied with as much hate as I could muster. "Yes they know what you did."

Mary dropped her gaze, and tears started to roll down her cheeks. I said nothing, and within moments she started to sob.

I hung on as long as I could, my heart breaking as the woman I'd loved so dearly for so long cried her heart out. I was no monster, and could stand it no longer. I stood up and went over to her, took her in my arms and cuddled her as she sobbed away.

"Why Mary, why?" I demanded gently, but all she could do was cry, the few words she did try to utter, unintelligible as her body was wracked by huge sobs.

I carried her up to our bed, laid her down, and took her shoes off. I thought about undressing her to make her more comfortable, but couldn't bring myself to do it, for fear of just what I might discover underneath.

I went back down stairs and tried to make sense of it all. But it didn't make sense _ any sense at all. Try as I might, I simply couldn't gather my thoughts together. The person who had betrayed me wasn't just my wife and the mother of my children. It was one of my oldest childhood friends. My confident, my lover, my partner, my best friend.

Oh shit __ I just couldn't deal with it at all.

-------------------

It was late afternoon when Mary eventually came back down again. She'd showered and dressed in one of her pretty little outfits that she knew I liked so much. Tight hipster jeans that emphasized her slim waist and long shapely legs, and a white tee shirt that clung to her body.

God she looked beautiful, so fresh and vulnerable, and I felt my cock responding despite myself.

"Can we talk?" She asked simply.

"What is there to talk about?" I replied, almost out of spite.

She flinched, but pressed on, trying to maintain the glimmer of a smile on her lovely face, difficult though it must have been.

"For the children's sake we have to talk," Mary continued after a moment.

Christ, the kids! I'd forgotten the kids. They were still at her Mothers' and I hadn't even rang.

"It's Ok," Mary said quickly seeing me reach for the telephone, I've already rang and asked if they can stay for another day or so."

I relaxed back into the armchair, and looked up at her. We both stared at one another yet again for some time, both again at a loss as what to say.

"Why Mary?" I asked at length. "What made you do it? Don't you love me? Don't I satisfy you any more?"

Her lovely face near collapsed, and she looked at me imploringly.

"Tom, please Tom," she whimpered. "You are everything you possibly could be. I couldn't hope for a better man. I just love you so much that sometimes it hurts."

"BUT?"

"Yes but," my wife muttered, almost to herself. Then she took a big breath and looked me straight in the eye.

"I should have told you Tom. I should have talked about it months ago," she started. "Though God knows what good it would have done. I can't imagine what you could have done about it."

I kept quiet and let her continue, wondering what on earth she was going to say.

"Tom, you're the only man that I've ever made love to. Yours' is the only cock I've ever had inside me."

Her words startled me. I had never heard Mary use the word cock like that before in front of me. Besides, it appeared that her statement, after last night's incident, was no longer true.

"You mean 'was' I think, not 'is'," I pointed out, and the expression on her face removed the last lingering hopes that she hadn't gone through with it from my mind.

"You 'were' the only man I had ever made love to," Mary corrected herself. "I talk to my pals, and they had all slept with several men, some of them so many, that I could hardly believe what they told me."

"You were jealous Mary," I asked her.

"Yes jealous, and as the months went on, I got more and more jealous, more and more desperate to find out what the feel of another man's cock inside me would be like. Not necessarily a bigger cock or anything, though I have to admit that I did think about that. I simply had to find out, but couldn't stand the thought of having an affair behind your back."

Mary hesitated before carrying on, checking that I was still listening, and hadn't closed down on her.

"Then last night when Cath was describing what she did. The excitement of never knowing what man would be fucking her that night, or how good he would be in bed, or how big he would be ____ well it got to me. It got to me real bad Tom."

Mary sighed deeply, and shrugged her shoulders, before carrying on.

"And it seemed to be so cut and dried. No commitment ___ no emotion ___ no loving ____ Cath never even kisses her clients ___ it's just sex ____ plain sex. No need to have a sordid affair, and not making love like we do Tom ___ just plain raw sex."

Mary hesitated again, sighed deeply, and then carried on again.

"I just don't know what came over me. I went off with him right there in front of you and the other two. I wasn't thinking straight, but whether it was the alcohol or ...... well I don't know why it was. He took me to the bar, but didn't stop. Just carried on to the lifts, urging me on with his hand on my bottom. Then when he kissed me in the lift and I felt his erection up against me, I knew I was going to go through with it ___ I couldn't stop myself ___and so I did."

I was hurt, and my feelings were pretty raw. I could half understand what she was saying to me, but equally just couldn't make sense of it. Then I asked a stupid question. I suppose it wouldn't have mattered as I would have found out anyway, but my pride as a man fuelled my need.

"Was he bigger than me then Mary? Was he better than me when he was between your legs?"

A single tear appeared and slowly rolled down to her chin, as she breathed in deeply, her pert breasts rising and then falling as she did so.

"Not better than you Tom. Different, but not better, and in fact I suppose, however exciting it was, not even as good."

She hesitated, but obviously had more to say.

"Bigger though? I'm really sorry Tom, but yes ___ one of them was bigger. Quite a lot bigger. I'm sorry Tom, but I have to be honest."

What did she just say ___ one of them! ___ Did I hear that right? ___did she say ONE of them? Bloody hell what did she mean by that?

My mouth gaped open in surprise and some disgust, and Mary reached over and picked up her purse, emptying the contents onto the table in front of me.

There was obviously more than the four hundred pounds that she had taken from me the night before.

"There's over eight hundred pounds there Tom," she informed me. "Do what you want with it. Burn it if you want to."

"Christ Mary," I exclaimed loudly, angrily, rapidly doing my sums. "You charged the second punter even more than the first?"

"No Tom I didn't. The second one I only charged three hundred. The third one was the guy with the big cock, and when he showed it to me, I charged him even less.

-------------------

The next few days were a muddle, and I passed them in a haze. I could hardly bring myself to speak to Mary, and she kept her distance, realizing that I had to try to work out my feelings by myself. My meals appeared on the table, and clean socks and things in my drawer. Life went on.

The kids came back from Mary's parents, and they settled back in, their youth hiding from them the veil of unhappiness that was spread over the household.

John and Tracy rang, and I confirmed that Mary was back home. They carefully avoided asking any questions about what had happened, and I didn't volunteer any information.

I couldn't think of divorce. It may sound stupid, but I just couldn't consider it. I loved Mary, and she loved me. 

She'd made a mistake, a terrible one, but it was just a matter of how we got over it. A matter of whether I could get over it.

I didn't know, but I prayed that I could.

Some normality returned to our family life, and I reached the point where I could cuddle up to her in bed. I couldn't bring myself to have sex with her which really upset Mary, but several times she jerked me off. I guess it was her way of trying to make up a little bit. It wasn't much, but better than nothing.

Maybe if we'd been able to talk more about the details of what had happened that night it might have helped. But Mary didn't want to talk about it, and I didn't even want to think about it. Fat chance of that!

I couldn't face meeting up with John and Tracy after one attempt. I just couldn't stand the humiliation, couldn't put up with their questions and had even more problems with their silence. They were the only one of our friends that knew, and they'd promised to keep quiet about it. I knew Mary still saw Tracy, but John and I kept our distance. 




No Way _ Mary: Alternative



I had nobody to talk to about my feelings, and probably worse as it turned out, I had nobody to point out to me that I wasn't thinking about Mary's feelings. More important how she felt about that night. My brain wouldn't allow me to consider whether she'd actually enjoyed it, though my ears should have told me she did. 

If she hadn't, then why had she done three of them that night? 

Her need to find out how other men felt inside her. Had her experience satisfied that need, or had it simply inflamed it?

--------------------------

It was about a month after that infamous evening, and Mary seemed to be spending more and more time with Tracy. Hardly surprising since I wasn't the best of company. It was OK when the kids were up, but after they'd gone to bed, a silence descended. 

That night she'd gone off to Tracy's after the kids were in bed, leaving me at home babysitting. 

I chose that moment to decide to try to make an effort with John. I rang him, knowing that Mary would be there with Tracy, intending to invite him over for a few beers. 

"Sorry Tom," he answered my invitation. "I'd love to really, but Tracy and I are going out tonight. Maybe tomorrow night. Maybe we could have a beer or two down the pub?"

Ah!

"Going anywhere exciting," I asked tentatively. It was after all, none of my business.

"No Tom," he replied. "Just popping over to see her parents."

Ah!

I couldn't bring myself to ask the question. 

But then I didn't have to did I?

Mary wasn't there was she? 

If not, then where the hell was she?

All the feelings of nausea and uncertainty that I had managed to put behind me returned with a vengeance. 

I realized that there was probably a simple explanation, but knew at that moment that that's how life was going to be from thereon. 

I didn't trust her.

Mary came back in that evening just before midnight, and there was nothing odd in that. I tried to say nothing, honestly I did, but I couldn't get that noring feeling from my gut. 

"How are John and Tracy?" I asked nonchalantly. That was typical of the limit of our conversations by then.

"OK," replied Mary. Typical again.

"You didn't go out anywhere with Tracy then?" I asked carefully.

"No," she replied. "Just stayed in and chatted.

The limit of out conversation.

The end of our marriage?

I was right not to trust her.

--------------------------

Mary's next evening out was scheduled for a few days later, her weekly night out with the girls. It wasn't hard to keep my suspicions from her, as we were hardly talking more than a few words at a time. 

By the time I got home from work she was ready to go out, dressed quite modestly in jeans and a loose top. I gave her an hour or so head start, then took the kids over to her parents, telling them that I'd had an emergency at work. I then made my way through town to the pub where I knew they met up, and got there probably an hour and a half or so after she would have arrived. Her group wasn't at all hard to find. They were all dressed more or less the same as she had been, and a pretty bunch they made. I kept myself hidden, but I almost need not have bothered, as Mary wasn't there.

What to do?

I'd drawn a blank, but it was a blank that told me everything.

I saw Tracy sitting there with the group of them and decided to find out what I could so I took my mobile phone from my pocket, and dialed Tracy's number. I saw her take her phone from her pocket, and look to see who was calling.

"Hi Tom," I heard through the earpiece." Are you after Mary?"

That puzzled me, as it wasn't what I expected to hear.

"Yes. Is she there," I replied thinking quickly. "Her mobile 's not responding."

"She's just left on her way home Tom," Tracy informed me. "Good as gold she has been. Never stops out more than an hour or so these days. Not since ........" Tracy hesitated realizing no doubt that the other girls were around her. "Well not since the last couple of weeks," she finished.

"Thanks," I replied and cut the phone. I didn't need any more information; Mary had got home well after midnight every week lately, just as she had done before.

She was using her night out with the girls as a cover.

All I had to do was find out what it was she was covering, and hiding from me.

Oddly enough when she came home that night Mary was in a really good mood. The best she had been in my presence for some time. The next day she became quite chatty, and despite my doubts I responded. That night we sat and watched television hand in hand, and it seemed quite natural for us to go up to bed together, where she undressed rather sexily for me. 

We made love, and it did seem like love, not just sex. The first time for some period, but it was all still there, and by the following morning as if by magic, we seemed to be back were we'd started.

I wondered, no, hoped really, that my suspicions were unfounded, and that we could carry on as a couple. The loving couple that we had been before.

I still didn't really trust her though, and I knew that the solution would be more difficult than one night of good sex.

The week passed pleasantly enough, and it was again time for her to go out with Tracy and the girls. Yet again I parked the kids with her parents, and yet again I made my way over to the pub where they met. This time however a little earlier, but I'd only been parked outside for ten minutes or so, and I spotted Mary leaving the pub, and getting into her car.

I'm no expert at trailing people, so it was just as well that she only drove half mile or so, then pulled into the Rose Garden Hotel. 

Well at least she had taste, as it was without doubt the best hotel around, far better even than the one that our saga had started in. 

Mary got out, still dressed in jeans and tee shirt and just a large handbag, and I carefully followed her into the reception area. Mary must have not had a care in the world, because how she didn't spot my clumsy efforts to shadow her, I'll never understand. 

"Hi, has my husband arrived yet?" She asked the pretty receptionist, who obviously recognized her, adding, "Tell him I'll meet him in the bar when he arrives," when the receptionist replied that he hadn't.

Husband?

What husband? Which husband? What was going on?

I watched in astonishment as Mary sauntered over to the lift, and while she waited for it to come, I took the stairs two at a time, and hid myself at the corner, hoping that she got out at that floor. There were only two floors, and I was lucky. Mary alighted from the lift, and I counted carefully how many doors she walked by till she stopped. 

Four!

Once inside, I crept quickly along, and checked out the number ____ 214.

I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do, but there was quite clearly nothing to be gained by standing there and waiting. Catching Mary coming out of her hotel room would certainly embarrass her, and prove something. But what? Even I didn't know.

Accordingly, five minutes later found me back in the lobby, behind a newspaper, surveying the place and the people coming and going. 

If Mary's 'husband' did arrive then I didn't see him, or if I did, then I didn't know it. The place was full of smart businessmen, and it could have been anyone of them, or for that matter I could have everything wrong.

I didn't have a plan of any sort, and truthfully I was very nervous and felt a bloody fool.

All I could do was keep my eyes open for Mary to come back down again. I just hoped and prayed that she would come back down again or else I was lost. But as much as I searched every woman that passed, not one was dressed in jeans and tee shirt, and as time passed, I started to accept that I'd blown it.

Then "Shit that was close!"

God she nearly caught me, and how damned embarrassing would that have been?

The vision in front of me, walking straight towards me, was anything but dressed in jeans and tee shirt. The beautiful woman was clad in a short black evening dress and high heels. 

Simple but effective __ she looked stunning and my heart gave a jerk. Mary looked as beautiful as I'd ever seen her, and her eyes sparkled with life.

I whipped the newspaper up in front of myself, and she strolled past me, within three feet of me, and never so much as noticed. 

I decided that surveyance simply wasn't my thing. Apart from nearly being caught yet again, I didn't think my heart could stand it.

The next bit was easy enough, as Mary walked just inside the bar, and straight up to well-dressed guy of forty or so, reached up on tiptoe and pecked him on the cheek.

I couldn't hear what she said to him, but it was short. I guess it was something like, "Hello darling."

He turned to face her, put his arm around her waist, and pulled her up tightly against his body. Mary offered no resistance, moulding her soft body up against his.

It looked for all the world like what she was pretending it to be. 

A beautiful young wife greeting her loving husband at the end of the day.

I felt sick! 

I took in a number of slow deep breaths till I managed to control my breathing. Controlling my heartbeat was not so easy however.

I wanted to go and punch him on the nose. I wanted to shame Mary in front of everyone there.

But I didn't. I just sat there and watched the two of them as he introduced them to two other guys who he had been talking to. 

Mary shook hands with them like a dutiful wife, and within a few moments they were smiling and laughing as the two new chaps so obviously complimented her on how good she looked.

She reached over to each of them in turn, and put her hand on their shoulder or their chest, leaving it there just a tad longer than would be normal. Flirting with the two of them fairly innocently, but flirting none the less. Within three minutes, Mary had them eating out of her hands. 

I didn't know she could do that.

I was trapped and still didn't have a plan. No idea what to do.

The two other chaps made to leave, and I took that opportunity to get up and walk away, still no ideas coming to me.

I found myself back on the stairs, and then outside her room. That was no good of course, so with my heart pounding, I walked further down the corridor and half hid myself in another doorway.

It would be just my luck if someone opened the door and I fell in.

'Ding'

Bloody hell __ I just knew it would be them, and sure enough the two of them made their way arm in arm along the corridor towards room 214, stopping only to kiss passionately when they got there.

Mary got the key card out, and offered it to the door.

I knew it was there and then or it would be too late. I knew that if I didn't react immediately then I'd be going home with my tail between my legs.

But other than embarrass Mary as much as possible, I still wasn't exactly sure what I was going to do.

"Well fancy meeting you here Mary," I called out with far more confidence than I felt, as I made my way down the corridor towards them.

The guy looked up and smiled. Not a big friendly smile of welcome, but a smile none the less. After all, he had no idea who I was.

Mary froze. Physically froze, and even from the distance I was still at, I saw the look of utter panic on her face.

That at least made me feel good ___ really good.

"Pleased to meet you Sir," I greeted the man pleasantly enough, holding out my hand. He took it and we shook hands, for all the world like a normal meeting between the woman's husband and an unknown friend.

But which was which, and who was who?

"Mary's husband I presume," I asked the other chap.

"Mary?" he queried looking puzzled, and glancing across at my wife. "This is Gina."

"Ah!" I exclaimed heartily, throwing up my hands. "That explains everything nicely then doesn't it."?

He continued to look at me in puzzlement, while Mary, or was it Gina, stared at me like she'd just seen death.

"Then you must be Gina's husband then," I continued. "Which helps quite a lot, because Mary here is actually MY bloody wife."

Nothing could really be worth losing a wife for, but if anything was, then the look on their faces came close.

The other 'husband' took a step back, and Mary let out a sob.

I had enough sales experience, and of closing deals to know when to keep quiet. I simply stood there and stared at the two of them. The next move was up to them.

"Look old chap," he recovered enough at last to say. "Must be some sort of misunderstanding here maybe."

"No misunderstanding," I replied. "It just seems that you get to fuck my wife whatever her name might be."

"Don't be crude," mumbled Mary without looking up. "There's no need to be crude Tom __ no need for that."

Stand off!

Silence reigned as all three of us wondered what was going to happen next.

I certainly still had no idea, as though I was feeling pretty good about the way it had gone up till then, I was yet again lost as how to proceed.

Mary set the ball rolling.

"Look Michael," she said looking round to her 'other hubby'. "I think it might be better if you pushed off. I'll give you a ring tomorrow when I've sorted this out."

"Gina," he said to her calmly. "You should know me by now, and I'm not the sort of guy who you tell to push off."

"Oh my God what a mess," Mary mumbled through her gathering tears, as she covered her face with her hands.

The guy looked sternly at me, obviously still not entirely sure whether this was all straight up or not. 

I shrugged my shoulders at him ___ I was almost beginning to enjoy myself.

"There's a small matter of several hundred pounds as well old chap," he told me without any embarrassment whatsoever. "Gina always demands payment in advance."

At that point I nearly lost it.

Up till then I thought that Mary had tasted some strange, enjoyed it, and was having an affair behind my back. 

But no, not at all. The bloody cow was a prostitute. She was on the game.

Then everything clicked into place, and for the first time that evening I knew more or less exactly what I was going to do.

A hooker was she?

Already been paid had she?

Then our friend Michael would have to get his money's worth wouldn't he.

Grabbing the key card from out of Mary's hand, I swiped the door, heard it click, and pushed it open, ushering Mary quite roughly inside.

"Come on then Michael," I called to him. "Come and get your money's worth."

I dragged my wife over to one of the sumptuous armchairs, pushed her roughly over the back of it, then went round to the front of it and grabbed her hands, trapping them so she couldn't escape, her bottom stuck up ridiculously in the air.

"Come on Michael," I encouraged him. "You've paid for it, so come and get it."

He stood there in the doorway, unsure whether to come in or not. I guess at that point he might have thought that he was involved in some scam, and that we were a pair of tricksters.

"Come on Michael," I called to him again, and reached forward, grasped the hem at the back of Mary's short dress, and yanked it up towards me with one hard tug. There was a distinct ripping sound, and the dress came right up and half way off of her, leaving her exposed and naked from her waist except for her little panties.

She thrashed about trying to escape, her cries of anger muffled by the folds of the dress that was by then right up over her head. Her high heels were hardly able to reach the ground behind her, and they swung around hopelessly as she tried to get a foothold.

"By Jove," said Michael, at last making a decision. He stepped up behind her, took the sides of her panties in each hand, and suddenly slid them down her long bare legs.

I could feel Mary going frantic beneath me, but I held on tightly and she had no chance of escape.

Michael reached forward and stuck his hand up between her legs, played with her pussy for a few moments, then pushed his thumb quite firmly and deliberately straight up into her.

Mary jerked violently under the dress, and Michael started to work his thumb in and out of her.

Mary's movements didn't reduce, but they did soon change. Within moments she was pushing her bare bottom up for more attention between her legs, and the muffled cries of anger changed to moans and screams of another kind altogether. Her legs still waved wildly about, but no longer was she trying to get a foothold, or making any attempt to keep them closed. 

"She seems ready to me old chap," said Michael, more to himself than me, and undoing his trousers and letting them drop, he was soon offering his cock up to her eager pussy. 

I watched dispassionately for the next ten minutes as another man gave my wife a good rutting. He was really quite robust in his treatment of her, and it became more a question of me simply balancing her than actually holding her down any longer.

"Fancy a go now old boy," asked Michael when he had finished with her. "We'll swap places if you want."

It hadn't been my intention at all really, but as I'd said all along, I never really did have a plan of any sort.

"Why not," I replied, and I did.

We exchanged places, and I rammed into her as if there was no tomorrow. There was no love in it, just raw sex, and I thrust and I thrust till I shot my load into her, not caring a damn for her or her needs. 

I pulled back, and pulled my things back on, while Mary just lay there.

"Are you really the husband?" asked Michael.

"For the time being," I replied. "Only for the time being."

"Super," he said almost to himself. "Bloody super."

I watched with cynical amusement as Mary straightened herself and fought to get her dress back down from over her head. Even Michael ginned widely as we watched her, naked from the waist, stumbling around blindly on her high heels, unable to see were she was going. 

At last giving up, and she tore the thing right off over the top of her head, the rip in the side widening as it came off. 

She flung the ruined dress away in a temper, and stood there fuming, naked except for her high heels which had miraculously stayed on. Whether she'd lost her bra in the struggle or not bothered to wear one I had no idea. Neither did I care.

"Bastard!" she eventually spat at me. "Why did you do that?"

"Sorry Gina," I retorted. "Just giving your other husband what he'd paid for."

She glowered at me speechless, unsure what to say.

"My names not Gina," she mumbled at the floor dropping her gaze.

"As far as I'm concerned you're now Gina," I told her. " I grew up and married a girl called Mary, but I don't see her in this room at the moment."

"Splendid!" commented Michael under his breath.

With one last look at her, I spun on my heels and made for the door without looking back. The last thing I heard as I closed the door was Michael.

"Come on old girl," he was saying. "Let's see what we can do to make you feel a little better."

Strange, but I had nothing against Michael, and personally I quite took to him ___ seemed quite a nice chap really.

----------------------

The final confrontation was a bit messy as it happened, and took place right outside our front door. Fortunately the kids weren't around, though a few of the neighbors no doubt heard it all.

She hadn't come home that night, and she wouldn't have got in if she had. I was just leaving the house, when Mary pulled up in her car.

"We need to talk honey," she said calmly as if we'd just had a minor argument about her scratching the car or something. "We've got to sort this out, and see how we can get over it."

"Sorry Gina. I've nothing to say," I replied.

"If you're going to be silly about this, and keep calling me Gina, then we're not going to get passed this," she said angrily.

"Got the message then have you ___ Gina?" I delighted in answering.

My wife shook with rage, her face going red, having a job to control her temper.




No Way _ Mary: Alternative



"Look Tom, I only did this for you. I didn't have a dirty little affair behind your back like some women do. I needed something that you couldn't do for me Tom. I thought if I kept it at a business level then I wouldn't have to get involved with anyone, and ...."

She rabbitted on, trying to justify what she had done, trying to make it sound as if it was reasonable for me to accept it. Eventually she offered to stop going with other men for six months, as a trial, to see if we could work it out.

And that appeared to be her best offer.

"Don't hang around Gina ___ you must have clients waiting for you," I said to her as I got into my car and drove away, leaving her stood there open mouthed.

---------------------

That was it really.

The divorce came through quite quickly and she didn't fight it. Didn't even fight the financial settlement, which was greatly weighted in my favour. A question of us exposing her earnings as a hooker, which hadn't amounted to much when we split up, but had no doubt increased somewhat by the date of the divorce. 

I tried to cut her off from access to the children, but she baulked at that. I guess I was pleased deep down, as she was still their mother. She saw them at her parent's house, who have been absolutely wonderful throughout. The only time they talk to her or let her in the house is for her monthly meeting with the kids.

They tell me that she claims she has stopped being a hooker, and has a job on the till at the local supermarket.

But I no longer care.

And me?

Well maybe I'm a sucker for trouble, or simply go for the wrong type of women.

I've been seeing a very pretty blonde for sometime now, and who knows, it might get serious one day.

Her name's Cath by the way.

Might seem hard to believe that I'd end up with her, but at least this time I know what I'm taking on.

------------------------

Well there you are.

Hope you liked this ending better, and apologies to those who would prefer it if I had boiled her in hot oil. That sort of thing seldom actually happens in real life.

If you liked it, then you know what to do. Don't forget us amateur writers do need some encouragement to keep churning these stories out. 



No Way _ Mary



She looked down at me with a pained look on her face.

"Hang on, I'll be back in a minute baby."

And with that she span on her heels and walked equally unsteadily back to where the stranger was still standing. I didn't see her give him back the money, but presumed she had, and then she stood there talking to him for some time. 

Again Mary came back to the table, and again the stranger stood waiting.

This time she looked really quite worried.

"Look Tom," she told me. "He's pretty upset, so I've agreed to go and have just one drink at the bar with him."

"No way honey," I objected. "No bloody way."

"Please Tom," she pleaded. "It's just for a quick drink, and I'll behave myself honestly. I can't just leave the poor sod like that."

"Go on Tom," whispered John to my surprise. "He can't get up to much at the bar, and she'll be hot for you when you get home tonight."

I shrugged my shoulders reluctantly, accepting her request, and then watched her disappear over in the direction of the bar, wondering if I was doing the right thing. I wasn't at all happy that his hand had yet again dropped down on to her bottom.

"I'd be careful if I was you Tom," Tracy said to me uncertainly. "She was really turned on by what that Cath was telling her.

"Oh don't be silly," I told Tracy, and John agreed with me, adding that she'd be back any minute.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," whispered Tracy under her breath, but loud enough for me to hear it.

I chuckled to myself. What the hell did she think my innocent little wife was going to get up to for Christ's sake? She only gone out to the bar with him.

We sat there and waited, each minute the tension building up round the table. After ten minutes and no Mary I started to feel uneasy, then my stomach started to turn in circles, and ten minutes later I exploded.

"Where the fuck is she?" I almost shouted aloud. "How long does it take to have one quick drink?"

"I'll go and look for her," volunteered Tracy, and she stood up and disappeared towards the bar without waiting for my confirmation.

John and I tried again to talk about Arsenal's chances, but the words stuck in my throat. I just couldn't concentrate. I prayed that Tracy would pop back in a moment with my wife with her looking somewhat contrite.

Tracy did come back, but on her own.

"No sign of her Tom," she said. "She's not in the bar."

I looked at her. 

The pair of them were pulling my leg. This had all been a set up to get me worked up. But the look on Tracy's face told me otherwise. She wasn't pretending, and Mary had disappeared.

All three of us jumped up, and searched the bar, the dance floor, and the rest of the club, but she was nowhere to be seen.

She'd gone ___ gone off with a complete stranger, probably gone back with him to his room.

I couldn't believe it ___ couldn't accept it. Not my sweet Mary, she couldn't do something like that.

We hung around for at least an hour, watched as the place emptied until the club was closing, leaving us the last ones there. I was close to panic, and the other two were trying to calm me down, suggesting that she'd maybe gone home, maybe gone off with a pal. 

But I knew it wasn't true.

I knew who she'd gone off with.

I just couldn't understand why.

We went through to the hotel section, and I demanded at the reception if they'd seen my wife, but of course they couldn't help.

I'm afraid I began to lose my rag somewhat, and they threatened to call security.

In the end John and Tracy pulled me away, took me outside and tried to talk sense to me.

But where was the sense in it?

A short while before I'd been with my wife, the love of my life. Laughing and joking and having fun together. Then just like that, without warning she gone __ disappeared without trace. The lump in my gut, seemed to grow and grow.

The other two wanted me to leave, and I couldn't blame them. I guess they didn't even want to be there if Mary should suddenly come sauntering back.

Then Tracy had an idea. Maybe Mary was waiting for me in our car. Maybe, just maybe she was teasing me, playing a trick on me, and she had left the club and gone to our car to wait for me, leaving me thinking that she'd gone off with that chap, and she hadn't after all.

Well, that joke had backfired, hadn't it?

I was furious with her for playing a trick like that. Bloody hell would she get an earful when I got back to the car.

We wandered out of the hotel and through to the car park towards our cars, my stomach turning somersaults, as I approached, angry with Mary, but praying that she was there ___ knowing that she'd had to be there. The other two were lighthearted, telling me not to be too hard on her, but I wasn't so sure. In my opinion she'd really gone a bit too far.

The car was empty!

My heart sank, and my hopes with it.

What to do now?

"Ring her," suggested John.

Why the hell hadn't I thought of that? So I whipped out my mobile and speed dialed her number.

It rang ___ and rang ___ and rang.

At last Tracy tapped me on the shoulder, telling me it was useless, and indicating the car. I took the phone away from my ear, and heard another ringing. It was Mary's phone ringing inside the car where she'd left it, her flimsy dress hardly giving her anywhere to carry it on her.

Flimsy dress! Oh shit!

Christ it was flimsy wasn't it. I didn't want to think about her dressed like that with another guy.

If she still had the dress on of course.

Damn and blast!

What to do? The other two had no more idea than me.

Then I thought of Cath; maybe she could throw some light on the matter.

My fingers shook as I rang her number, which fortunately I had stored in my mobile, and just a few rings in, she answered.

It wasn't much, but the feeling of relief that something had at last worked was almost overpowering, and my voice shook as I spoke to her, and explained what had happened.

"Oh Christ no!" She answered me. "I never imagined she would."

"Would what," I questioned her. "What would she do?"

Cath refused to answer any more questions, but told me to go home, and await her call, then rang off before I could question her further.

"What the hell were you three talking about? What bloody stupid ideas have you put in her head?" I demanded of Tracy, spinning around to her, but she simply dropped her head and said nothing.

"Come on Tracy," insisted John. "This is serious. What on earth were you talking about?"

She took some persuading, but eventually she informed us that the three of them had talked about Cath's line of work. How Cath had told them, that though the money was good, it was the thrill and the excitement that kept her on doing it.

"So," I exploded. "So what?"

"Mary seemed to be more than a little interested in Cath's experiences," she explained. "But I honestly never, ever, imagined that she'd really take it any further."

----------------------

Back home I fidgeted and worried. I couldn't sleep so I turned on the TV.

I lost interest in the TV, so I went and found a book.

My eyes wouldn't focus on the words after a short while, so I went and got myself a cognac.

Several cognacs later, well, many cognacs later, I must have drifted off to sleep.

--------------------

I awoke with a start, wondering where I was, and what that infernal noise was.

The phone. My mobile phone was ringing, and it took me a few moments to locate the damn thing.

"Hello," I croaked into it. "Tom here."

I came to very quickly when I heard Cath's voice on the other end.

"You Ok Tom," she asked me, but I didn't answer her, just demanded if she had found Mary.

"Yes," she answered quickly. "Don't worry, I found her last night, and she's here with me now."

"Put her on Cath. I must speak to her."

"Hang on Tom. She's a bit unsure of herself, and wants to know how you feel."

"What do you mean? How do I feel? Just bloody well put her on the phone will you."

"I think she'd prefer to just come home Tom," Cath told me.

"Well tell her to come home. Come home straight away."

"You're sure about that Tom," Cath asked hesitantly.

"Of course she should come home. She's my wife and she lives here, doesn't she?"

"Even after what she did last night?"

The events of the previous night flooded back to me, and engulfed me. 

Oh God, my nightmare was true.

Mary, my wife ___ no it couldn't be true.

But at that moment I knew that it was. Mary, my childhood friend, my loving wife, the mother of my two children had sold her body, and had ..... 

Even in my mind, I couldn't say it.

"Tell her to come home," I whispered tearfully into the mouthpiece.

-----------------------

"Hello Tom."

I looked round and saw Mary standing there. I'd been so deep in my grief that I hadn't noticed the passage of time. Hadn't heard her creeping into the house.

"Well?" I questioned her, not expecting any rational answer.

We both stared at one another in silence, me sitting, her standing, for what seemed an eternity.

'I'm so sorry Tom," she said at last in little more than a whisper. "God knows what you must think of me."

I just shook my head, at a loss at what to say to her.

"Did John and Tracy realize what happened?" Mary asked, probably as more something to break the silence, than really wishing to know.

"That you prostituted your fucking body last night you bitch," I replied with as much hate as I could muster. "Yes they know what you did."

Mary dropped her gaze, and tears started to roll down her cheeks. I said nothing, and within moments she started to sob.

I hung on as long as I could, my heart breaking as the woman I'd loved so dearly for so long cried her heart out. I was no monster, and could stand it no longer. I stood up and went over to her, took her in my arms and cuddled her as she sobbed away.

"Why Mary, why?" I demanded gently, but all she could do was cry, the few words she did try to utter, unintelligible as her body was wracked by huge sobs.

I carried her up to our bed, laid her down, and took her shoes off. I thought about undressing her to make her more comfortable, but couldn't bring myself to do it, for fear of just what I might discover underneath.

-------------------

It was late afternoon when Mary eventually came back down again. She'd showered and dressed in one of her pretty little outfits that she knew I liked so much. Tight hipster jeans that emphasized her slim waist and long shapely legs, and a white tee shirt that clung to her body.

God she looked beautiful, so fresh and vulnerable, and I felt my cock responding despite myself.

"Can we talk?" She asked simply.

"What is there to talk about?" I replied, almost out of spite.

She flinched, but pressed on, trying to maintain the glimmer of a smile on her lovely face, difficult though it must have been.

"For the children's sake we have to talk," Mary continued after a moment.

Christ, the kids! I'd forgotten the kids. They were still at her Mothers' and I hadn't even rang.

"It's Ok," Mary said quickly seeing me reach for the telephone, I've already rang and asked if they can stay for another day or so."

I relaxed back into the armchair, and looked up at her. We both stared at one another yet again for some time, both again at a loss as what to say.

"Why Mary?" I asked at length. "What made you do it? Don't you love me? Don't I satisfy you any more?"

Her lovely face near collapsed, and she looked at me imploringly.

"Tom, please Tom," she whimpered. "You are everything you possibly could be. I couldn't hope for a better man. I just love you so much that sometimes it hurts."

"BUT?"

"Yes but," my wife muttered, almost to herself. Then she took a big breath and looked me straight in the eye.

"I should have told you Tom. I should have talked about it months ago," she started. "Though God knows what good it would have done. I can't imagine what you could have done about it."

I kept quiet and let her continue, wondering what on earth she was going to say.

"Tom, you're the only man that I've made love to. Yours' is the only cock I've ever had inside me."

Her words startled me. I had never heard Mary use the word cock like that before in front of me. Besides, it appeared that her statement, after last night's incident, was no longer true.

"You mean 'was' I think, not 'is'," I pointed out, and the expression on her face removed the last lingering hopes that she hadn't gone through with it from my mind.

"You 'were' the only man I had ever made love to," Mary corrected herself. "I talk to my pals, and they had all slept with several men, some of them so many, that I could hardly believe what they told me."

"You were jealous Mary," I asked her.

"Yes jealous, and as the months went on, I got more and more jealous, more and more desperate to find out what the feel of another man's cock inside me would be like. Not necessarily a bigger cock or anything, though I have to admit that I did think about that. I simply had to find out, but couldn't stand the thought of having an affair behind your back."

Mary hesitated before carrying on, checking that I was still listening, and hadn't closed down on her.

"Then last night when Cath was describing what she did. The excitement of never knowing what man would be fucking her that night, or how good he would be in bed, or how big he would be ____ well it got to me. It got to me real bad Tom."

Mary sighed deeply, and shrugged her shoulders, before carrying on.

"And it seemed to be so cut and dried. No commitment ___ no emotion ___ no loving ____ Cath never even kisses her clients ___ it's just sex ____ plain sex. No need to have a sordid affair, and not making love like we do Tom ___ just plain raw sex."

Mary hesitated again, sighed deeply, and then carried on again.

"I just don't know what came over me. I went off with him right there in front of you and the other two. I wasn't thinking straight, but whether it was the alcohol or ...... well I don't know why it was. He took me to the bar, but didn't stop. Just carried on to the lifts, urging me on with his hand on my bottom. Then when he kissed me in the lift, I knew I was going to go through with it ___ I couldn't stop myself ___and so I did."

I was hurt, and my feelings were pretty raw. I could half understand what she was saying to me, but equally just couldn't make sense of it. Then I asked a stupid question. I suppose it wouldn't have mattered as I would have found out anyway, but my pride as a man fuelled my need.

"Was he bigger than me then Mary? Was he better than me when he was between your legs?

A single tear appeared and slowly rolled down to her chin, as she breathed in deeply, her pert breasts rising and then falling as she did so.

"Not better than you Tom. Different, but not better, and in fact I suppose, however exciting it was, not even as good."

She hesitated, but obviously had more to say.

"Bigger though? I'm really sorry Tom, but yes ___ one of them was bigger. Quite a lot bigger. I'm sorry Tom, but I have to be honest."

One of them! ___ Did I hear that right? ___did she say ONE of them? Bloody hell what did she mean by that?

My mouth gaped open in surprise and some disgust, and Mary reached over and picked up her purse, emptying the contents onto the table in front of me.

There was obviously more than the four hundred pounds that she had taken from me the night before.

"There's over eight hundred pounds there Tom," she informed me. "Do what you want with it. Burn it if you want to."

"Christ Mary," I exclaimed loudly, angrily, rapidly doing my sums. "You charged the second punter even more than the first?"

"No Tom I didn't. The second one I only charged three hundred. The third one was the guy with the big cock, and when he showed it to me, I charged him even less.

-------------------

I sat in my study later that night, reflecting on what we'd talked about then and indeed afterwards, and wondering what I was going to do about her.

I knew beyond doubt that nothing could be the same ever again, and even Mary had confirmed that. That evening had set something alight inside her, and Mary, being Mary couldn't lie to me. 

She'd cried pitifully as she told me that she just couldn't trust herself any more, not to go off and do the same thing again. 

She told me to throw her out, and abandon her before she hurt me again and again. She just begged me to let her see the children regularly, and not cut her off from them.

She'd gone to bed exhausted emotionally, and no doubt after the night before physically as well. I couldn't face going up to sleep with Mary, and found myself just sat there in my study at a loss what to do.

She needed the children, and the children needed her. She was the best mother in the world, and I would never find a substitute to match her. For the sake of the children I needed to find a solution, and besides ___ I damned well loved her. 

I don't know how, after what she'd done, but I damn well still loved her.

I don't know what made me do it, but I picked up my phone and rang Cath. Maybe she would be able to help me out of my predicament. I didn't know how, but I was desperate, as I was worried I would end up hitting Mary if I didn't get my act together by the morning.

As it turned out, it was the best thing I ever did. 

If I hadn't then I wouldn't be the multi millionaire that I am now, even as I recount this sad story.

-------------------

I left the house early the next morning, before Mary got up, not wishing to have to confront her. 

I messed around ineffectually at work till lunchtime when I went off to meet Cath. I don't know what I was expecting from her, but it certainly didn't turn out as I'd imagined.

Within twenty minutes we were in a hotel bedroom together.

"I've looked forward to giving you your freebie for ages," she told me, as she led me through the bedroom door.

She pushed the door closed behind us, reached up and put her arms round my neck, her firm breasts squashing deliciously against my chest. 

Then she kissed me. Kissed me long and hard. Kissed me like I had seldom if ever been kissed before.

I came up for breath at last.

"I thought you didn't kiss clients," I pointed out to her, remembering what Mary had told me.

"I don't," Cath said, as she reached up to kiss me again.

"I don't see you as a client," she went on huskily, a little later. "In fact for some time I've been wondering if you and me could be more than just friends."

Needless to say, sex followed. You bet it bloody well did, and to say it was fantastic would not half describe it. But it was not that which changed my life.

---------------

--------------

Well, here we are several years later.

I'm still married to Mary, very happily as it happens, and she is still a wonderful mother to our children. 

Without question we are still very much in love. In most respects we have a wonderful, normal relationship.

It turned out that Cath had been thinking for some time of buying her old boss out, as she was getting a bit past it and ready to retire.

'CREST ESCORT AGENCY'

It wasn't being run very well, and needed managing properly. The web site was a bit dated as well, and all those things were my forte.

A cash investment from both me and Cath, and we became equal partners, going up market and dealing only with rich clients.

We started with just four girls, four special girls, Zoe and Claire who Cath had carefully selected as being a bit 'exra', Cath herself of course, and my wife, my Mary.

Mary was our top girl for quite some time. I suppose it was the enthusiasm that she put into it that made the difference.

She's about the prettiest of the lot anyway, but maybe I'm a bit biased.

That happens I'm told when you love someone the way I did Mary.




No Way _ Mary



Anyway, she's now a very happy girl, and naturally I reap the benefits. 

We've now got over twenty girls on the books, and these days Mary and Cath now do only their special, favourite clients.

Am I jealous ___ No, not really. 

Am I rich ______ Yes, full stop.

My special perk is that I get to try out all the new girls. Most of them are quite young and new to this sort of thing, and usually need a few lessons in how best to please men.

I know my place, and I don't complain too much. Someone's got to do it after all.

Got another new girl this afternoon to audition, though both Cath and Mary had to be very, very nice to her husband to persuade him to let her have her wish. It is something she's wanted to try out for some time.

As I said earlier, Tracy isn't really my type normally, but John assures me she's a real tiger in bed, and she's really just so keen to have a go, and join her two best friends.

-----------------

Of course it's nonsense!

Only meant to be a bit of fun, so hope you didn't take it too seriously.

I do happen to know however, that they all lived happily ever after ___ so there!



No Way  ___ Sue



GROUP PRODUCTS
SUPPLYERS TO THE TRADE

Read the sign over the door.

It wasn't where I worked myself, but I had an excellent excuse to go in, as I regularly sold them my own products, being in the cleaning trade.

That wasn't my real reason for being there that day though, and I had other thoughts on my mind, and every one of them involved a young lady called Sue.

Sue was indeed a lovely young lady of some twenty-eight years, married for sure, but since when did that worry me?

Not when she was as slender and beautiful as she undoubtedly was, and certainly not when she had responded to my previous overtures in the way that she had. 

My specialty was married ladies, and I found that the prettier they were, then the easier they fell.

Fell for my charms that is, as I practiced my skill as a seducer. 

"Hello my lovely ___ how are you this fine day?"

That's how I greeted her, and was rewarded with a huge beam of a smile.

"Hi Fred," the lovely replied, her voice already taking on a husky tone. "Is it lunch time already?"

I simply nodded at her, and twinkled my eyes. Took her arm and led her quickly out of the office and down to the local pub. 

THE ROSE AND CROWN
FINE ALES & SPIRITS

A couple of drinks, beer for me and gin and tonic for her, and things were going well. Sue rang up her office and told them that she would be back later than expected as something had come up.

Another round of drinks and we were already discussing where to go, back to my place or to find a hotel. 

The hotel won, and the expense would be worth it. Sue though slender had the most beautiful breasts, and long, long legs. She was my ideal conquest, and I would enjoy licking the former, and sliding between the latter. 

As she slid into my Porsche 911, her short skirt slid up further. But she made no attempt to cover up, just sat there ____ enjoying me, enjoying her. 

A quick flit through the lunch time traffic and I pulled into the car park of the hotel.

KING'S HEAD HOTEL
4 STAR ACCOMODATION
AIR CONDITIONED

We went through the formalities and were soon making our way up to our room, Sue giggling like a young schoolgirl at the adventure she was embarking upon. And me just looking forward to screwing the young lady, the wife of an old friend. 

Her dress was soon off, and I helped her with her bra. Then her panties were slipped slowly down, and she stood there before me ____ absolutely splendid.

Perfection personified.

So slender yet curvy, so soft yet so firm. Her waist tapered in deliciously, before flaring out over her hips, and the twin peaks of her fine breasts jutted out daring me, challenging me to take them. But her face said it all. The fire in her eyes as she stared unflinchingly up at me, and the tip of her tongue that peeked cheekily out between her slightly parted full lips. 

I slowly undressed and pushed up against her. She moved delicately back till her calves made contact with the edge of the bed, and then slowly leant backwards as I supported her, till she lay there before spread out before me. 

Our first time, and there'd be no messing.

She wanted me inside her, and that is where I wanted to be. 

Her legs slid slowly apart, and I stepped into the gap.

Knock, Knock!

Oh what bloody timing! ____ go away.

Knock Knock _____ Knock Knock!

Dammit ____ go away!

Knock Knock ____ Knock Knock ____ Knock Knock!

Oh bloody hell ____ I'd have to answer it. Grabbing a convenient towel, I went to the door and opened it.

"Bastards! _____ Call yourself a friend? ___ Call yourself a wife?"

Oh shit! ___ Sue's husband, my friend.

He burst in and rushed at me, threatening me, throwing punches.

I ducked under his flailing arms and punched him. Punched him hard, just the once, right on the chin.

He went down, so I grabbed him and dragged him back over to the still open door, and with one great heave, through him back out into the corridor. 

I listened at the door, and heard him getting up, then skulking away. 

A cuckold ____ Beaten by the better man, and gone away to lick his wounds.

"What should we do now?" Asked Sue, and I turned back round, my scowl changing to a grin as I saw her on the bed, still naked, still beautiful, a startled look on her face. 

"Carry on of course," I informed her, and her look changed from startled to expectant, lying back down on her back, and re-opening her thighs.

"Oh ___ he'll be OK I suppose," she said as I approached her, my erection never having diminished. "I'll chat to him about it this evening. I might even have to let him have his way with me."

"No need to be too charitable," I told her. "Wait and see what mood he is in."

Then we were at it again, Sue sighing with delight as I at last slid deep inside her. Groaning with pleasure, as I slowly but surely worked my way back and forward.

Oh what sweet delights. A married woman, a beautiful young one, a friend's wife, wimp though he was. 

It didn't get much better than that.

CRASH!

The hotel room door flew open, and the stupid fool leapt back inside the room.

I slowly pulled out of Sue, and turned to face him, this time determined to teach him a real lesson, one that he wouldn't forget.

Oh dear ____ Oh dearie me.

Was that gun he had real?

Did he even know how to use it?

I decided that the chances that one of the other would be in the negative, so reached out my hand to wrestle the gun from him.

A bang ____ a flash of light ____ the merest hint of a pain in my head. 

Red mist, then coolness _____ clouds seemed to come over.

-------------------------------------------------

Where was I?

Everything seemed vague and cloudy ______ Funny _____ wonder why?

I could see a white van of some sort, and I seemed to be getting into it.

AMBULANCE
EMERGENCY SERVICES

Was this really an ambulance? What was I doing in it?

Sirens, tyres squealing, there was somebody alongside me.

Rushing, braking, accelerating, cornering ____ stopping.

They're carrying me out ______ How can I see that?

St JOHN'S HOSPITAL
EMERGANCY DEPARTMENT

They're putting me on a bed _____ It's stainless steel ____ why are there no sheets?

Everything is going dull. The lights are going out.

-------------------------------------------

Christ, where am I now?

Looks a nice place they've bought me to anyway. Maybe some sort of nursing home.

What's that ahead ____ A set of huge shiny gates.

There's a bell to push. I push it ____ I want to get in, but there's no response.

I see the sign _____ and at last I begin to understand.

THE PEARLY GATES
MEMBERS ONLY
I MUST GET IN! 

I ring and ring the bell, and at last relief as I see someone coming. A vision of loveliness ___ a tall slim blonde, with two wings behind her back, clad in tiny panties and bra, and balancing on four inch high heels.

I can't believe it ___ It's not possible _____ Victoria's secrets got it right!

"Let me in," I demanded.

"Let me at her," I actually thought.

"Where's your papers?" She demanded sternly.

"I haven't got any bloody papers," I told her.

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head. "No way honey ____ I can't let you in here."

The vision turned on her heels and walked back the way she'd come, her ass swaying seductively, making my loss even harder to accept.

Then it got cold. 

Very cold, and I started to shiver as the freezing temperature started to get right through to my bones.

A blast of warm air at last, and for the first time I noticed the archway from where it was coming. I rushed over and felt the warmth run over me as I passed through. Then down the stairs, down and down, flight after flight of steps, the temperature rising dramatically the lower I got.

The end ___ another gate, but this time open wide.

INFERNO CLUB
OPEN FOR LONG AND INDEFINATE STAYS ONLY
PROP. Lucifer de Ville

Oh bloody hell no!

I entered nervously; sweat dripping off me as I cautiously made my way in. There were other creatures there, hardly human, which scuttled away at my approach.

"Hi, is that really you?" A voice said at my side. "You've ended up here too."

It was Sue, who'd arrived a few moments before me, except that she'd grown a moustache, one boob had shrunk and her legs had lost half their length. She'd become incredibly ugly. 

"Ugh!," she said looking at me in absolute disgust. "What the hell has happened to you?"

---------------------------------

Just a bit of silly fun really, but be warned. 

This could be what happens to all adulterers

So think twice before you jump in.




No Way At All I'm Sending Pictures



Saturday June 11, 2005 (about 3 in the afternoon)

i've been looking for subbie girls in chat rooms. Met only one or two. i want to share my love for Marie. i want to learn. i think many of these people are just play acting or downright lying. Then of course, i get hit on by dozens of creepy guys.

One guy kept my attention a little while. i think he called himself BootyHunter69 or something like that. What kept me chatting is that he said he was trying to get a Domme to see him and was not succeeding. i could sympathize with his desire. There's at least one reason he might be a creepy fake however. He said he wanted pictures of my bare feet in a certain pose as a present for the Domme.

Now i can understand that he wanted a particular pose. He wanted to see if i was real. i don't mind that. But a Domme with male slaves who wants pics of a girl's feet? That doesn't make sense. Who am i to judge? Everyone's turn-on looks goofy to someone else. i must not be negative. i would not want people putting me down. So... i'll consider it.

The pose is not even reveling. Just lay on my tummy smiling at the camera. Breasts hidden behind folded arms. The focus of the pic is supposed to be my feet. i'm supposed to bend my knees so my bare feet stick up in the air. Seems harmless. i guess someone likes the soles of feet.

i'll ask Marie if it's ok when She come home.

Saturday June 11, 2005 (about midnight)

i had no idea that my Marie was so possessive!! She did not like the bare feet picture idea at all. No. Not even one little bit! 

Saturday evening while we're eating i casually mentioned that i had been chatting online. Marie doesn't mind that. She knows i want to have some kinky girl talk with other subs. She approves and thinks i might have fun. But when i continued that i had been chatting with a guy, She went silent. Not realizing the significance, i blathered on and on how he wanted pictures of my bare feet and a specific pose.

Marie quietly put down Her knife and fork. "Come with me," She said as She slid back Her chair and stood up. i had no idea what was going on, but of course i followed. She led me upstairs and went into our bedroom closet. i just stood there meekly. She came out with my thigh-high boots. "Put these on now," She ordered sternly. i still did not know why, but Her voice sent a chill up my spine. Something was wrong and i didn't know what! i don't wear these boots much. They're tight. They're hot and sticky inside. They only have a four inch heel, but they hurt a little. The toes are too pointy for one thing and they should be at least a half size larger for another.

As i was pulling them on and lacing them. MISTRESS was digging around in our toy drawer. i could hear the clatter and jingle of chains. i usually like that sound very much, but this time i felt uneasy. When i had finished, She had returned with legirons, my dog collar and padlocks in Her hands. She wrapped my collar around my neck and locked it on. OK, slave rules apply. i know what this means. She inspected my lacing. 

"Pull them tighter now," was all She said. So, of course i pulled all the laces tighter with my fingers and re-tied the bows. She bent over and stuffed the bows down inside the boot tops. She slid a little padlock through the top lace hole on my boots! She'd never done that before! She pulled the hole over to the other side and LOCKED it. i thought, "That's too tight!" but i could never say anything like that to Her, especially in my collar, so i kept my mouth shut. She did the same to the other boot. There is no no way in hell i could take them off. She lifted my chin with Her hand and sternly looked me in the eye. "You put the irons on now, Do it!" She barked. This was scary. What's going on? Of course, i bent over in front of Her and clicked the irons around my ankles. 

"Tighter! NOW!" She ordered! They were already tight! i repositioned them to the smallest part of my ankles and clicked them both two notches tighter. The leather of the boots was now compressed by the steel. She grabbed my hair and stared into my eyes again, not saying a thing. She lifted her foot and pressed it against the legirons, clicking it closed one more notch on each of my ankles. 

"Now stand up and come with me," She said as She turned and walked back downstairs. She did not stop at our unfinished dinner, but continued to my basement computer room. She ordered me to sit at my computer and said, "I don't know or care how you do it slut, but you send this message to that fucker who wants pictures of your feet, 'FUCK OFF! janet belongs to ME! If you come near my slave, I'll cut your fucking balls off!' exactly like that! Send it!" Then She left.

So that's what's going on! There is certainly no way at all i'm taking pictures of my bare feet now! i found BootyHunter69's little icon thingie in my archive and sent the message. Now what am i supposed to do i wondered? i went back to our dinner. She wanted me to refill Her wine glass and just continued eating. We finished dinner in silence. i had no idea what to say.

i cleared the dishes and cleaned-up the kitchen. She read the newspaper. The boots were a little uncomfortable, but not too bad. i tried to wiggle my toes, but it was too tight in there. If i stepped the wrong way, the cuffs hurt my ankles. i worked in silence. She tossed the papers on the floor, turned off the TV, and headed upstairs. i straighten the room as usual, turned off the lights and followed. 

She was relaxing in the middle of our bed. "Massage my feet slave," She ordered. i got some lotion from the dresser and went to work silently. She just watched me, then laid back and closed Her eyes. "Keep at it, but also work your way up," She instructed. At least this was normal. i started to relax and enjoy myself. M has such lovely legs. For a while everything was nice and normal. i worked my way up Her body. She rolled over and i started at Her feet again and worked my way up Her back. She rolled over again and i knew She expected me to service Her. i love this! As usual, i eagerly stroked Her fine breasts, gently massaging in the lotion. i switched over to kissing Her. She permitted me. i lavished my love on Her neck, Her nipples, Her thighs, kissing with real passion. i lovingly gave Her head until She was satisfied.

Now this is when She would usually do me. Instead She just rolls on Her side and tells me to turn out the light. i was.... disappointed doesn't quite do it justice. i'm dripping wet. i can feel my cunt pulsing. My nipples are so hard they hurt. i WANT!! i think i just knelt there on the bed for minutes with my mouth opening and closing. Not knowing if or what or how i could say anything!

i decided i HAD to chance it. "Mistress? Please Mistress. Could we be together a while longer please?" i cooed softly. She rolled over and sprung into an upright sitting position. "NO!" She glared at me, "You have been very bad. You're lucky I did not whip you!" i was so surprised that i said something more back to Her! "But Mistress, he just wanted some goofy pictures, It would have been harmless." i should NEVER have said that! in fact, being in my studded dog collar, i just earned... let me count... nineteen lashes. "Mistress" and "please" are on the list of words i am permitted. the other nineteen words are not. Luckily, i did not accidentally say "no" or "don't" or i would have gotten the lashes for sure.

"If you say one more word, I'm going to lock a gag on you as well as those boots. I haven't decided when I might take those boots off, or even if I ever will! Maybe a gag is a good idea," She stared at me like She was really considering it. i swallowed and kept my mouth shut. Gags are fun, but only for a few minutes. She rolled back on Her side and said sleepily, "I think you look fine in those boots. That will do for tonight. We will see how good you are tomorrow and see about the gag."

i thought, "tonight? tomorrow? ever take them off? oh no! what am i supposed to do?" The padlocks at the boot tops were really digging into my thighs now. There was no longer any way to hold my feet so that the cuffs did not hurt my ankles. This was not good. At least She forgot about the lashes. i hope She did. Did She? Please please please don't gag me too i thought. Funny... i'm almost praying to Her in my mind.

i didn't have any choice. i made my way quietly down to this computer. i'm sitting here writing this when we should be loving. We should be writhing on the bed arms wrapped around each other's torso. Drinking each other's juices. Sigh... i guess i'll masturbate. i guess i'll get tired enough to sleep in these boots later. i still have to get up at 4 am to prepare Her breakfast. Please please please just be joking or something. Maybe She'll take these off tomorrow.

Sunday Jun 12, 2005

i'm going crazy! i'm still locked in these boots & my dog collar! The boots mean i could not go out today. i was hoping Marie (the loving girl friend) & i could go out or something. The collar means i MUST be a 100% pure sex slave period. i am only allowed to say nine words in any combination i like: "yes Mistress i love you please fuck me harder" There's only so much you can communicate like that!

i could not run this morning. i'll get fat if this keeps up! i could not take a shower. Had to sponge bathe. Had to wash my hair in the sink. i like to shave my legs & "suzie" in the shower, but couldn't. Tried an old electric razor. It pulls and doesn't cut cleanly.

Marie is being MISTRESS with all capital letters. Since i am allowed to answer questions freely, She's not asking any. She just barks orders.

my feet hurt! my ankles hurt! my thigh hurts where the locks are! i'm afraid there's not enough blood getting in my feet. i try to wiggle and exercise. i think it helps.

At least She forgot about whipping me for talking back to Her last night. i think She forgot. i hope She forgot

Aw this is shitty! Sundays are the only day She's off all day and we can be together! We usually have a wonderful time. Come on MISTRESS! Have a heart! i love you! i miss you. i can't say anything! i tried just sitting at Her feet. i said "Mistress please, i love you" over and over. She said "Yes, I know." But that's all She said! i tried stroking Her leg. She did pat my head. She did spread Her legs and let me lick Her. But when She was satisfied, She kicked me away!!! What am i going to do?

Monday June 13, 2005 (about 11:30 at night)

Hooray! all is forgiven! Maybe we'll even take pics of my feet for that pervert guy online. When She came home She ASKED me if i'd be a good girl! So, i FINALLY could explain!!!

All day today was like Sunday. Yes, i love bondage and discipline, but this wasn't fair. i could not go shopping. It was difficult to do normal stuff around the house that needs to be done on Mondays. i could not work in my garden in the afternoon. No shower again! i'm going to stink real soon!

But when Marie came home, i professed my love and obedience when She permitted me. i got down on my knees (which by the way is one of the few more comfortable positions for my feet) and FINALLY explained that the creepy man told me he was a slave or i would not have chatted with him. FINALLY got to explain that the stupid pics were supposed to be an order from his Domme. Of course my Mistress relented. No matter how odd it sounds, we would both help a slave serve his/her Dominant. Well... She would permit it, i would help if i could.

So off came the legirons. Off came the boots. Off came my collar and they were all put away. MARIE massaged my feet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! oh heaven!!!!!! She finally "did" me... good too!!!! Luckily dinner didn't burn. We ate rather late after this big turn of events.

We had lovely, warm, passionate sex again after dinner. She would never say this, but i think She missed me as Her lover.

i just had to write this. Don't know why i'm still up. She's sleeping. She's so beautiful sleeping. i'm going to bed now.



No Way Back



Edited by DB448

"Tell me again why I have to come?" I asked my wife of 10 years. 

I'm Eric Sanders and the apple of my eye, Beth, sat beside me as I drove down the road.

"Susan's brother is in town, and she didn't want him to be the only guy there while we have our hen party" said Beth.

"Besides" she continued "If you're good I'll really make it up to you later"

Beth's make ups were worth anything you could name, so all of a sudden I was really ready to be good.

We pulled into Marge's driveway and I readied my provisions for the day. My survival kit had gotten me through lots of bad situations. The kit contained all of the necessary supplies for keeping me occupied during any long boring situation. It consisted of a pack of wild berry skittles, a plain Hershey bar, a small bag of chips and a wild cherry Pepsi. These items, when added to my ever present iPhone, would allow me to deal with anything.

"Eric, while we're here, try to communicate with someone. Don't just lock yourself away on your phone and forget the rest of the world" Beth said.

"Well what do you expect me to do while you hang out with your friends?" I asked.

Beth knew that I hated her friends. I couldn't understand why my beautiful wife hung out with those "depraved skanks". I guess she really didn't care for my friends either, but at least I didn't force them on her.

We went through the house and out onto the deck. I looked around and half heartedly gave a wave to Susan, Marge and Amy. They were so busy talking and hugging my wife that they either didn't notice or didn't care that I kept my middle finger extended during the wave. Why were they always hugging each other, were they closet "lezzies" or did they just miss each other so much since yesterday?

I looked around and didn't see any other men, so I loudly cleared my throat, and when Beth turned towards me, I gave the universal, both hands out, "where the fuck are the guys" shrug. 

As Beth shuffled over to me, her tight white shorts looked like they were painted on.

"Honey Susan's brother went out last night and didn't wake up yet, he'll be by later" she said.

"So what am I doing here now darling" I snapped through closed teeth.


"Just hang out sweetie, take a dip in the pool, oh, you could talk to Brandy" said Beth as an after-thought.

"Beth," I asked "who the fuck is Brandy and why, can't I just leave and pick you up later?" 

"Marge says that wives spend a lot of time waiting for their husbands to do things, and the sign of a healthy relationship is the husbands' willingness to reciprocate" said Beth.

"Marge can suck my dick" I said smiling, just loud enough for Beth to hear.

"That's my job" said Beth rubbing my crotch. "Don't forget I'm going to make this all worth it" she said.

"OK" I purred.

I looked around and sure enough there was a woman sitting at a table across the deck. She appeared to be reading, and had several notebooks and other items on the table in front of her.

Beth ran back to her coven. The triumvirate of evil is what I called them. There was Susan, who was going through a painful divorce. Beth had told me about it but for the life of me I couldn't remember the details. Susan was the reason for the meeting today, she was heart- broken and needed the support of her cohorts. Susan was 40ish but looked older, her thin features and sour disposition made her look 50 normally. But today, with her whining and caterwauling, you could add another 5 or 10 to the total. Susan did however have a nice trim body, slim hipped and small breasted, but tight. Not really my cup of tea, I preferred women who were built like women, but If you're looking for the thin lipped, shrewish, 50 year old supermodel type, Susan is your girl.

Amy was the newest recruit to the fold. She was Italian or Mediterranean in appearance. She had beautiful eyes and long wavy dark hair. Her hair was so thick I could imagine running my fingers through it and getting stuck. She had large breasts and a big round ass. Unfortunately she also had a big round stomach and was only 4' 11. Her hook nose and slight mustache were also not big features in any of my masturbatory fantasies. Amy wanted so badly to fit in with the group that she bordered on ass-kissing.

Finally, there was Marge. In the back of my mind I always called her large Marge. Marge was an Amazon of a woman, and had the temperament to back it up. Whatever you talked about, Marge was a fucking expert on it. She had seen everything, been everywhere, done everything and had the whole collection of T-shirts to prove it. Marge was the type of woman who could tell you what it felt like when she got her dick sucked. Add that to her grating, over modulated, voice and you get the picture. I hated Marge with a passion. Just as I was thinking it, the bitch looked across the deck and smiled at me. I swear that whore was psychic.

I made my way over to the table where the other woman sat. Although I dearly love my wife, this woman was beautiful. She was slender with largish breasts and long tanned legs that she showed off in shorts. She was doing that thing that women don't recognize as being overtly sexual where one of their shoes hangs precariously off of their toe and just dangles there. She had a leonine mane of tousled tawny colored curls framing a heart shaped face. If I wasn't happily married I could have made a fool out of myself over her.

I quietly took a seat directly across from her so I wouldn't disturb her. She looked over her glasses at me and went back to studying. I snickered when I saw the book she was looking at. It was a college Physics book. She also had a work-book, a lab manual, several notebooks and a programmable calculator. It brought back memories from when I was in college.

I very quietly pulled up a movie on my iPhone and settled in. I cracked open the top of my soda and rustled my chips. 

"Sorry" I said, as she looked at me, when I crunched a little too loudly.

"Actually, you just reminded me that it's been a while since I've had any real junk food" she said. "Anyway I'm stuck so I should probably take a break instead of just beating my head against the wall"

"What are you stuck on?" I asked.

"Oh nothing, just a couple of problems from the chapter review" she said. "May I?" she asked pointing towards my chips.

"Please" I replied.

As she grabbed a healthy handful of chips, I looked at her neat figures on the page of the notebook.

"You're using the wrong numbers" I said.

"What?" she asked, looking at me like I was a moron.

"This is Newton's laws of motion right?" I asked.

"Well yeah" she said with an exasperated tone.

"Force equals mass times acceleration?" I asked again.

"yup" she said "that's what they claim"

"You're using velocity instead of acceleration" I told her.

"The problem didn't give us acceleration" she said, realizing that I might be right.

"But they gave you final velocity, and they gave you cycle time; acceleration is simply the change in velocity over time" I explained.

I went to the programmable calculator app on my iPhone and showed her. She did the same calculation on her calculator then input the new numbers into her equation. She consulted the back of the book and the answers matched; she was overjoyed. She came around the table and hugged me.

This of course got noticed by the caldron stirrers across the deck and my petite little wife gave me a quiet nod.

"I'm Brandy" she said, after letting me go. "Marge's sister" she threw in as an after- thought.

I almost spit out my soda upon hearing that. 

"Well, sister" she clarified.

"I almost barfed" I said.

"Why, don't you like my sister?" she asked.

"Well, I'm sure she'll grow on me over time" I sputtered. "But I'm 32, and I don't think I'll live long enough for her to take root" I smirked.

That was the start of a great friendship. That afternoon I helped Brandy with her physics and we talked about everything we could think of. It's really strange, but we just clicked, in no time it was as if we'd been friends all our lives. I have to admit that when it was time to go, I was a little saddened.

A couple of hours later after eating a pizza Beth and I had picked up on our way home, I was lying on our bed waiting for Beth to join me. She stepped out of the bathroom in a filmy blue Fredericks of Hollywood Cover-up that didn't cover anything up. She lay down beside me and asked, "Honey, do you have any thing you can think of that you would like us to try?"

I sat up because my BIBSD was going off big time. For those of you who don't know what that is, women are supposedly born with what they call women's intuition; men are born with a BIBSD. The BIBSD stands for the built in bullshit detector and it's a man's version of psychic powers.

I knew then that something was up. 

"Well Marge says..."she began

I immediately frowned up, and crossed my arms because I didn't want to hear shit from Marge if she had a mouth full of it. I didn't trust Marge as far as I could throw her which wasn't very fucking far because the bitch was way bigger than me. And she probably had a bigger dick.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To cut the grass" I replied.

"No wait, you're going to like this" she said

"Not if it came from Fucking Marge" I said.

"Marge said, that to make our relationship stronger I should try to act out your fantasies, or try new things that you're interested in. If I don't like it, then we compromise or maybe try something else, but that we should experiment and try to make each other as happy as can be. It's the only way to make sure our marriage doesn't get stale" she said.

"So I was trying to find out if there was anything you wanted to try" she smiled.

"Well........."I remember saying, with a smile. 

Over the next week, we tried everything I could think of. Our sex life had always been good, but now it was like a v-8 firing on ten cylinders. On a scale of 1 to 10 we were a 12. She gave me blow jobs until her jaws ached. We tried anal for the first time but I don't think she liked it. We tried dressing up and role playing. My beautiful little wife was becoming the personal slut of my dreams. Some nights we'd make soft slow romantic love that gave us that wonderful glow and brought us closer together; other nights we just fucked like monkeys, hard fast and rough until we couldn't move. I loved every minute of it. She showed up at my job and blew me under my desk while I was going over plans for a project with a co-worker. I t was awesome. I loved her more than ever. Shit, I loved Marge, because, after a gazillion useless suggestions, the bitch finally came up with something good. What a sucker I was.

When the weekend came we went Susan's place, Beth of course wanted me to come along. I didn't mind at all, I even managed to say hello to Marge without being sarcastic. Susan's divorce was eminent, counseling had broken down, and now it appeared that Amy wasn't feeling too strong in her marriage either. I felt truly sorry for Amy. Beth and I had absolutely no problems in our relationship and as a matter of fact I think that we were better than ever. Even Marge's suggestion had only served to make us stronger. I worshipped the ground Beth walked on, and I knew that she loved me just as much. I guess Amy's husband had cheated on her, or maybe she had cheated on him, and they needed to work it out. That would never happen between Beth and I, we loved and respected each other far too much to cheat on each other. We had a good marriage and Marge had unknowingly made it better.

Unfortunately, I didn't realize it then but the enemy of good isn't bad; the enemy of good is better. What that means is when you have something that's good, you should just stand pat, because a lot of the time when you try to make it better, you fuck it up.

I spent the whole time that we were there talking to Brandy again. We could talk about anything it seemed. We also got in the pool and splashed around some. We even ordered a pizza, and devoured it while the witches had their finger sandwiches and tofu. 

I finally couldn't help myself and asked her "Brandy, you're young, you're beautiful, you're wonderful so why the hell are you single?"

"I'm 24, I'm divorced, and there aren't enough guys like you to go around" she said quietly.

"What do you mean guys like me?" I asked.

"Eric, you're a really special guy" she began "You and Beth have a great marriage" she said quietly. "Even Marge is jealous of the way you treat her and the things you do for her. You surprise her with little gifts, just for the hell of it. You split the household chores with her, you really talk to her and you guys communicate. She knows that she's the most important thing in the world to you, and you to her. My asshole of a husband cheated on me, before our first anniversary" her eyes looked downwards as she said this.

"Do you see anything wrong with me?" she said turning around and doing a little pirouette in front of me.

"Nothing at all" I said.

"Some guys are just cheaters" she said with venom."The first time, it hurt me really badly but I forgave him. When it happened again, I took him to the cleaners" she said smacking her open palm with her fist.

I wanted to put my arms around her and make her feel better. Telling me was obviously hard on her, but I saw Beth heading my way, so I didn't think it was appropriate.

"If you need someone to talk to about it, you can always call me" I said softly.

On the drive home, Beth seemed really chipper. She had one of those "cat that swallowed the canary" smiles.

"You seem to be getting along well with Brandy" said my loving wife. "That's great" she said, but something in her tone told me it wasn't great.

Later on after dinner, we were lying in bed, and I could tell something was up.

I decided to break the ice myself this time, since last time was so good.

"Go ahead Beth" I said, "I know you want to talk about something"

"Well sweetie, Marge says that experimenting and trying things is good for our relationship"

"Yay Marge" I said "Whoo hoo!"

"And" she continued, "There are a few things that I'd like to try too"

"Like what?" I asked; my curiosity was piqued.

"Well, I think I'd like to try having sex with another man" she said softly.

I was stunned. I couldn't find the words to express how pissed I was, but I tried to remain calm.

"Marge is out of her fucking mind!" I yelled.

"Marge said that, if you really loved me, if our relationship was really strong, that this would only make us stronger" Beth said quietly. "But if we're only based on sex, and not love, then sex could come between us" she said with a straight face.

For a second I wondered if she was quoting Marge or the Holy Book of horseshit, or both.

"This isn't about me loving someone else because I could never love anyone else nearly as much as I love you. It's just about trying out another man to compare to you, so I'd know what someone else feels like" she said.

"No. Not in a million years" I said firmly. 

"So you don't really love me then" she said

"If letting some other guy fuck my wife is part of love, then I guess I don't" I snapped.

"Beth maybe you should stay away from Marge" I said.

I turned off the light and rolled over to the edge of the bed. Beth put her arm around me, but I shook it off. She tried to roll over and snuggle up to me and I got out of bed and went to the couch.

The next morning, for the first time since we were married, we didn't have breakfast together because I got up early and went to work. The whole day I barely got anything done because I couldn't shake the image of my Beth with another man from my head. Beth called me 3 times during the day but I didn't answer any of them. After the 3rd call I just turned my cell off. Normally at lunch time I called her or just showed up at her job and took her to lunch, but today I did neither. When I got home that night, Beth was already making dinner. "Not hungry, I'm going out to run" I told her.

"I'll run with you, wait up" she said.

"I want to run alone. I have some things to think about" I said.

"Well I'll wait and eat with you" she said.

"I've got a better idea" I told her "Why don't you have dinner with fucking Marge"

I drove to the park and clipped my ipod to the waistband of my shorts. I started running hard and fast. I loved to run because it gave me time to clear my mind of all of the junk that jumbled around up there. 

Why the fuck did Beth need to try out some other guy? We'd just spent the last week trying out so many things that I'd wanted to try. 

That was it, things that I'd wanted to try. Was I being selfish? Hell no, why is it that everything I wanted to try involved her? The things we did that she didn't like, I never asked for again because I love her too much to subject her to something she doesn't like. So why would she try to force me to do something I don't like? Then she goes and quotes the queen of all skanks, Marge, who tells her that if I love her I'd let her just spread her legs for some other guy. What happens when Marge tells her to try running a train, or a gangbang? To me I guess I've always thought that a marriage is between 2 people.

I don't care if it happens to be 2 girls, 2 guys, or one of each, but the number needs to be 2.

Love is when 2 hearts become one, not one plus one plus someone else occasionally for fun.

During the run I also found myself thinking about Brandy. What kind of a dickhead would a guy have to be to cheat on that woman?

When I got back to the house, I took a shower and then went downstairs into the kitchen.

Beth was there, she obviously had a sad face and a story to tell.

"Don't you want your dinner?" she asked

"No thanks" I said, harshly, "I can't afford it"

"What does that mean" she asked

"I smell Marge" I replied. "Everything about that bitch is the carrot and the stick. You offer me something I want, something nice; but the payback for it is so harsh that I don't want anything nice ever again" I said.

"Marge is just trying to make our relationship stronger" Beth cried. "Boredom and insecurity doom most marriages. I want you to see that you don't need to be insecure about me and any other guy. I love you Eric, and only you. It would just be sex, nothing more, no emotions, just bodies. This heart beats only for you, not for some guy just because he fucked me. Anyone could fuck me, I could be raped on my home from the store tomorrow, it wouldn't make me love you any less" she said thinking she was making a point, "and it certainly wouldn't make me love the guy who raped me. But you see, that's the point that Marge is trying to make, you see me as your pristine little wife, your property. But if I were sullied, or used by someone else, you wouldn't want me anymore. Just that one little act and all of the love you claim you have for me would disappear" she said.

She paused and looked at me with pleading eyes.

"What about you?" she asked "Aren't you curious to see how I'd feel about you being with another woman?"

"Nope" I said, "Because I'd never do that to you. I love only you and I don't need to try out anyone else" I replied.

"What about Brandy?" she asked, "You guys seem to have a little bit of a connection. I have to admit I was getting a little jealous of the 2 of you Saturday"

"Nope" I said, "Not going to happen"

Then Beth left the room. I made a turkey sandwich and ate it in front of the TV.

I don't know a lot of things but I know my wife. This was not the last time we would talk about this. Over the next week things around our home only grew more and more tense. I no longer recognized us. Where we used to do everything together, even to the point of her dragging me to her hen parties, we now barely spoke. I missed her badly, but I couldn't give in on this because this could be the end of us.




No Way Back



Diane looked down and smiled to herself. Although it was far from small, Clive's hand looked almost tiny as it massaged the vast expanse of her boob, and compared to her pale skin it looked even darker than it really was. Ever since her first sexual awakening she had always had fantasies about black men, wondering if they were really as well endowed as she had heard. Now she hoped she was about to find out.

Eighteen months ago her marriage had broken down, and because her husband was the only man she had ever been with, in fact her only boyfriend, she had been struggling to find her way back into the social scene, when a friend casually mentioned an over thirties singles bar she had heard about. Diane hadn't been too keen on the idea, after all she wasn't exactly desperate, but she was fed up sitting at home on her own, so she figured it wouldn't hurt to check it out. The first thing that struck her when she walked through the door, was that there was nothing really remarkable about anyone there. She didn't know what she had expected, if anything, but ordinariness was not it. The fact was that most of the people looked just as drab and overweight as she felt herself to be, and she heaved a small sigh of relief that she wouldn't stand out from the crowd. Finding a corner table, she ordered a drink from a waitress, and when it came she sat watching the other patrons as she sipped. As the bar became more crowded, groups formed and the atmosphere became more relaxed. 

After a while it became clear that many of the clientele were there for more than merely a social drink. Her eyes widened as she saw a grinning woman thrust her hand into the pants pocket of a man standing beside her. It was obvious from his expression that she wasn't seeking loose change, and she laughed as another member of her group briefly cupped her breasts. Feeling uncomfortably like a reluctant voyeur, Diane drained her glass and signalled to the waitress for a refill. Unlike some of the people here sex was the last thing on her mind - all she wanted was company - but she'd gone to the trouble of coming here so she may as well enjoy a few drinks and head home. She was halfway through her third drink, and deciding to call it a night when she spotted a trio of black people, two men and a woman standing near the bar. The woman was around her own age and quite attractive, and although Diane didn't know her, there was something vaguely familiar about one of the men. It was a few moments before she realised she'd seen him several times in her local shopping centre, but hadn't taken much notice other than that he was one of the few black men she'd seen there. The three chatted for a few minutes as they surveyed the bar, then the woman kissed one of the men on the cheek and left with the third.

Almost as though he sensed Diane's eyes on him, the remaining man turned to look in her direction then casually strolled towards her table, and without speaking he set his drink on the table and took a seat facing her.

Now that they were finally face to face she studied him as frankly as he was studying her. He took a sip from his glass before he spoke, and when he did she was surprised at the mellowness of his voice. 

"I've seen you in the supermarket." It was a statement rather than a question, and she nodded. There was an uncomfortable silence for some minutes, and then he spoke again. "This is the first time I've been here. My friend and his wife persuaded me to give it a try."

She nodded her head again in understanding. "I know what you mean. A friend told me about the place too. I only came to have some company other than myself."

Now that the ice had been broken, he introduced himself as Clarence, grimacing almost apologetically as he said the name and they both seemed to visibly relax. The conversation began to flow more easily, and despite her original reservations she slowly found herself warming to him, really enjoying his company, so it was with genuine reluctance that after a while she pointed out the time, and said she should look for a cab before the late rush started. When he suggested that since they were both going to the same area maybe they could share a cab, it made perfect sense so she readily agreed. It took several attempts before a cab finally stopped for them, and there had been nothing about his demeanour that rang any alarm bells with her, so she gave it little thought when he put his arm around her waist as he helped her into the back seat before taking his place beside her. 

Halfway through the trip another car emerged without warning from a parking space, causing their cab to swerve suddenly and throwing her against him. As he raised his arms reflexively her breast pressed against his palm and they both froze. Pulling a face to cover her embarrassment she pulled away and settled back into her seat. The remainder of the cab ride passed in an awkward silence. She knew it had been a pure accident, but she couldn't take her mind off how his hand had felt. It had been years since a stranger had touched her there, and although it had been unintentional she couldn't stop wondering how it would feel to have his hand inside her bra. To cover her confusion she fumbled in her purse for her share of the cab fare, but he put his hand over hers in refusal. As she turned to insist she realised his face was closer to hers than she thought, and before she could draw back his lips met hers. The kiss was brief, but his full lips were so soft and warm that as he broke off she responded without thinking, and moved closer. 

At that moment the cab stopped outside her house, and her companion sighed softly. "Thank you for a very nice evening," he said quietly. "I'll walk you to your door before I head home if it's OK?"

She couldn't trust herself to say anything, so he took her silence as agreement, climbing out of the car and moving around to open her door. The unexpected chivalry surprised her, and as he helped her out she grasped his hand firmly. She opened her mouth to thank him, but the words that came out stunned them both. "Why don't you pay the driver and come in for a coffee or something?" Even as she said it she knew how it must have sounded, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to care. Without speaking Clarence paid the fare, and as the cab drove away he accompanied Diane to the door. Her hands were trembling as she fumbled with her keys, finally finding the right one and turning it in the lock. 

The moment they were inside she stood quietly, suddenly apprehensive. As much as she'd imagined him feeling her boobs, and if she was honest with herself, anything else he wanted to feel, she was afraid. What if he took one look at them and was turned off? After all she'd really put on weight over the years, and whilst her breasts had always been large even as a teenager, now the only word for them was enormous and they were definitely losing the fight with gravity. It hadn't bothered her much with her husband because he hadn't exactly stayed in shape either, but this was different. Her thoughts were interrupted when he put his fingers under her chin, tilting her face up to his. This time the kiss was deliberate and searching, and she moaned softly as his hand found her breast, squeezing and kneading, reawakening almost forgotten sensations. Thankful that he was showing a confidence she was far from feeling, she allowed him to lead her to the living room where she stood acquiescent as he unfastened her blouse and slipped it down her arms. When he reached for her bra fastening she closed her eyes, not wanting to see the disappointment in his face, but as the cups fell free he whistled softly.

"Holy fuck, they're superb!" He hefted her boobs in his hands, lifting and pushing them together before lowering his head and sucking her nipple deep into his mouth. Without disengaging his lips he eased her onto the couch, and for several minutes he sucked and squeezed her magnificent mounds. Finally opening her eyes she looked down, seeing the stark contrast of his dark hand as he fondled her soft white flesh. His hands were strong and work roughened, but the roughness only added to her pleasure as he stroked and massaged her pliant tit flesh. After a year and a half of celibacy, she once more knew the caress of a man's hands. Her breathing quickened and she offered no resistance as he pulled up the hem of her skirt and slowly slid his hand into the waistband of her panties, down over the swell of her belly. She drew in a sharp breath when his fingers touched her clit, and she reached across to free his tool from his pants. A pleased smile lit up her face as she saw that, at least in this case, the claims about black men were justified, and she lowered her head to take it eagerly into her mouth.

Although she enjoyed sucking cock she had never liked the taste or feel of cum in her mouth, and had learned to recognise the signs so she was able to pull her head back at the last instant. This time however she was determined not to stop until she had swallowed every last drop of Clarence's creamy fluid. With his fingers working their magic on her clit and nipples she bobbed her head faster, licking and sucking the huge black bone, urging him to fill her mouth with his sticky jism. His glorious cock began to twitch in the familiar prelude to ejaculation, and she increased her efforts, but he suddenly pulled it from her mouth. 

"No, babe," he panted. "I want it in your pussy." 

Kneeling between her thighs he eased her panties over her hips and down her legs, then sat back on his heels admiring the pouting lower lips, neatly divided by an inviting slit with just the hint of a protruding clit. Relieved that her skirt concealed her expanded waistline, she opened her legs wide and sighed with pleasure as his mouth covered her pussy. Probing her puffy slit with his tongue, he licked up one side and down the other before pinching her clit between his lips. She gasped and raised her hips and he responded by thrusting a finger deep into her wetness, and sucking hard on her love button. Her excitement started to build and she held his head tight, working her pelvis to increase the contact. With a low moan her climax burst from her trembling loins, and rising to his feet he helped her from the couch and led her to the bedroom. 

Quickly stripping off her skirt, he gazed appreciatively at her nude form before divesting himself of his own clothes. He made to move closer to her, but she put her hands against his chest, tracing the muscles as she studied his body. Wishing hers was as flat, she ran her palm over his hard stomach wrapping her fingers round his rigid organ, and began to stroke slowly and gently. During their twenty years together she had been faithful and had always enjoyed her husband's cock. Despite the fact that he had never given her a real climax she had still liked it whenever he fucked her, but now she realised that part of the reason for the breakdown of their marriage was that, much as she had enjoyed his tool, she had never really wanted it the way she wanted this one. Tightening her grasp she edged backwards until she felt the backs of her knees against the bed and then pulled him down, desperate to feel him inside her, plundering and ravaging her depths. 

He lay down beside her and resumed worshipping her massive breasts, his roughened palms scraping across her stiffened nipples and raising her need to unimagined heights. Just as she thought she would go crazy with frustration, he moved between her widespread thighs and watched the bulbous head of his huge black cock push between her plump pussy lips and bury itself to the hilt in her eager slot. With each powerful inward thrust she felt her hole stretch to accommodate his girth, and she raised her hips in an attempt to draw him deeper. This was more than just a fuck, it was a whole new sensory experience as his glorious love muscle probed places even her favourite sex toy had never been able to reach. His mouth on her tits as he fucked her took her into one long drawn out orgasm, and her juices were flowing like a river as he shuddered, pouring a stream of hot cum into the deepest recesses of her clutching tunnel. 

As his spent rod relaxed inside her, she was delighted to find that even in repose the magnificent weapon still plugged her hole most satisfactorily, and her mind began to picture the wonderful fuck sessions that lay ahead, provided of course that Clarence was willing. For now though there was still some unfinished business to take care of. As he rolled off her she leaned over him, taking his softened cock into her mouth and savouring their combined juices. She knew it could take some time, but as far as she was concerned they had all night, so she contented herself with licking from tip to balls and back again, occasionally taking as much as she could into her mouth before returning to licking and nibbling. After a while her efforts bore fruit, and wrapping her lips around his stiffening tool she sucked greedily until she was rewarded with a torrent of thick cream flooding her mouth. With a satisfied grin she let it slide down her throat, and licking her lips she let out a mischievous chuckle.

"Well that's supper taken care of, any suggestions for breakfast?"

It hadn't occurred to her that he might refuse such a blatant invitation, so she was stunned when he reached for his clothes.

"Sorry babe," he told her, "it's tempting, but I have to work tomorrow and all my work gear is at home." He saw her stricken expression, and he took her in his arms. "If it's OK with you I'd like to stop by after work tomorrow?"

She nodded listlessly. She should have seen it coming. He'd had his one night stand with a bonus blowjob for good measure, and now he couldn't wait to escape. The offer to return meant nothing and they both knew it. It had only been a conscience gesture to make her feel better, so she wouldn't feel used, although in all honesty she had to admit that she had used his impressive cock just as eagerly as he had used her pussy and tits. Perhaps more, because never in her wildest dreams had she imagined being fucked and filled so thoroughly, so she certainly had no reason to complain. Even having him cum in her mouth had been more pleasant than she had expected. By no means had it miraculously converted her into a born again cum lover, but it had been appropriate to the occasion so she had enjoyed it. 

After he had left she rinsed out the aftertaste with a glass of cola, then took a shower to rid herself of the pungent scent of sex before climbing into bed, where she lay tossing restlessly until finally she fell into an uneasy sleep. It was still dark when she woke, and she rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but when she closed her eyes fragments of a dream kept popping into her mind, all coming together to form a clear picture. She had been lying on a bed in a huge room, surrounded by every man she had ever met socially. One by one they had unfastened their pants to reveal immense black cocks, which swayed hypnotically as they approached and drove in and out of her unresisting pussy. As she had awakened, although she knew it had only been a dream, she could still almost feel this endless stream of impossibly massive tools penetrating her, filling her with their floods of scalding fluids. Try as she might she couldn't get the erotic images out of her head, and with a sigh of resignation she reached into her bedside drawer for her vibrator, desperate to still the insistent burning in her loins. It took several minutes of frantic thrusting to bring her the much needed relief, enabling her to drift off again.

It was late morning before she woke again, and after setting the coffee to brew she went to change the bed sheets which were stained from her nocturnal exertions. Sitting naked on a kitchen chair, she sipped her coffee and went over in her mind what had happened last night. It had certainly been the most memorable sex she ever had, so perhaps it was as well that Clarence wouldn't be back. It was hard to imagine reaching those peaks again, so a repeat could be a disappointing anticlimax. Draining her cup, she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, then stood before the mirror critically studying her reflection. It hadn't seemed important during her marriage, but now for the first time she was seeing herself as she imagined a man would see her. The huge pendulous breasts which hung almost to her waist, and the sagging belly that all but concealed her slit. It was no wonder that Clarence had made a fast getaway. He hadn't wanted her. He'd simply been horny and all he'd wanted was a willing cunt to stick his oversize prick into. Well he had certainly found that hadn't he? 

Dismissing it from her mind, she stepped under the shower and leaned against the wall, enjoying the warm spray. She wasn't sure how long she stood there, but suddenly the water ran cold, and she turned off the taps and wrapped herself in a huge shapeless robe that concealed her form. Making herself a sandwich and a fresh coffee, she sat watching television for a while, and after she had eaten her light lunch she rinsed the empty cup and plate. Just as she was putting them away her doorbell rang, and pulling her robe tight around her she went to answer. Her jaw dropped with surprise to see Clarence, still in his work clothes.

"Hello, I thought you were working today?"

He smiled and shrugged. "I was, but then it started raining. Can't lay bricks in the rain, so I thought I'd drop by and thank you for last night."

Standing aside to let him enter, she looked at him. "I didn't think I'd see you again. I didn't think you'd want to." 

"Why would you think that?" he asked, tugging at the tie of her robe. "How could I not want to see a body like this? You're magnificent."

He said it so simply that there could be no doubting his sincerity, and she stood unmoving as he removed her robe and ran his hands over her. She could see the want in his eyes. Not lust. Not need. Not even desire. Just want. He wanted her, not just her tits and pussy. Her. The complete package. Despite all her imperfections he wanted her. She couldn't remember ever being looked at the way he was looking at her, and she liked the feeling. Taking his hand she pressed it between her thighs, wanting him to feel the sudden wetness. Wanting him, and wanting him to know she wanted him. 

She couldn't find the words for what she wanted him to know, so she just looked into his face for several moments and then dropped her gaze. It seemed as though he knew what was going through her mind, because he took her hand and led her into the bedroom, where he quickly undressed. Her eyes glazed with need at the sight of his rigid tool, and knowing instinctively there would be no need for foreplay, he turned her around and leaned her forward until her palms were flat against the bed. Moving behind her he spread her legs, and speared his cock between the pouting lips of her chubby pussy. She slumped forward with her head on her hands as she felt his hard length fill her completely, and she pushed back to meet his thrusts. A loud moan tore from her throat when he grasped her dangling breasts, squeezing and twisting the hard nipples as he pulled her against him. Her orgasm began immediately, her juices flowing down her trembling, suddenly weak legs as he fucked her with what she could only describe as a gentle force. She knew it seemed a contradiction, but it was the only way she could think of it. There was power in his thrusts, but there was a gentle quality about the way he fucked her, almost as though he was afraid she'd break. 

When she had woken up she had thought it impossible to reach the same peaks as last night but now he was taking her even higher. She was too horny to want tenderness, and she pushed back savagely as she begged him to fuck her harder. In response he dug his fingers into her tits and rammed his enormous black cock in and out of the pink folds of her dripping snatch. She had thought that her climax couldn't be more intense, but now her entire body seemed to be one huge quivering orgasm. Pressing her face into the mattress, she gave out a long muffled scream as his plunging tool erupted, flooding her fuckhole with a torrent of hot cum. He continued to fuck her until his cock stopped pumping his juices, then as he withdrew, her trembling legs finally gave way and she collapsed, sobbing with totally sated passion.




No Way Back



He stood panting, looking down at her, his dangling manhood glistening with his and her cum, then sat beside her, gently caressing her quivering flanks. After some moments he went into the bathroom and returned with a facecloth. Urging her on to her back he parted her legs, watching the results of their exertions oozing from her well fucked hole, then carefully wiped the insides of her thighs, and finally her pussy. She had always been self conscious, perhaps even a little embarrassed, at the copious amount of fluids she secreted when she was being fucked, but the expression on Clarence's face told her that he couldn't be more pleased. Having cleaned her up to his satisfaction, he lay back and handed her the cloth. Smiling, she tenderly washed his limp member, then almost as an afterthought she lowered her head to take it deep into her mouth, not from need or lust, simply because it appealed to her. She had always enjoyed the feel of a cock in her mouth, but she was still not ready to swallow cum as a matter of course, although after last night she wasn't prepared to dismiss the possibility if the mood called for it. Withdrawing her lips before he could start to stiffen, she rolled onto her back and for the rest of the afternoon they lay side by side, chatting comfortably.

It was nearing five o'clock when he sat up and looked at her. "I suppose I'd better get home and get out of my work clothes." 

She giggled and looked at his naked body. "I thought these were your work clothes. It certainly works for me."

He pulled her legs apart and kissed her firmly on her pussy. "I like your work outfit too. How about you get yourself prettied up and I'll be back in a couple of hours to take you to dinner?"

His suggestion took her by surprise, because she had been about to offer to cook a meal for them both, but she readily accepted. As he reached for his clothes, she returned his teasing by seizing his tool and planting a lingering kiss on the tip. She was showered and dressed in plenty of time, and when he returned she locked the door behind her and met him at his car, which was a typical tradesman's station wagon loaded with tools and junk. Dinner was a low key affair at a small restaurant, where the food was moderately priced but good. As they ate they chatted about mostly trivia, almost as though neither appeared willing to disclose too much personal information, other than that they had both had failed marriages.

He did mention however that he had been married twice, although the first had lasted less than six months. With a rueful smile he told Diane that despite his wife seeming to be almost insatiable, enthusiastically taking his prick anywhere he wanted to put it, the reason she gave for leaving was that he was too big. He believed that the truth was she had only married him to defy her parents, who had been opposed to their rebellious daughter marrying a black man. When the novelty had worn off she simply made up an excuse to leave.

When they had finished their meal they made their way to his car, and started the return drive to Diane's home. During the trip she thought over what he had said about his first wife. It seemed ludicrous that the cock a woman had been enjoying for six months should suddenly be too big. As she herself knew only too well, Clarence's cock may be big but it was certainly not big enough to be uncomfortable, except perhaps for one place, although undeniably there were plenty of women who enjoyed it there too. Diane just wasn't one of them. In the early days of her marriage she had let her husband fuck her ass once, and that had been more than enough. Then again, she hadn't been as obsessed with his cock as she was with her new lover's ebony stick, so if Clarence wanted to she doubted if she would have the will power to refuse to let him at least try. There was no way she would suggest it, and she fervently hoped he wouldn't either, but if he did she would have to deal with it.

By the time they arrived home her thoughts had had the inevitable effect, and without pausing to do more than strip off her wet panties she led him to the bedroom and urged him to fuck her. 

Her orgasm was brief but intense, and as she lay catching her breath she reflected on how her life had changed. With her husband it had always taken prolonged foreplay to get her in the mood to want sex, but with Clarence - and she didn't know if it was because he was new, or he was black, or even because he had a big dick - the only foreplay she needed was the thought of him sticking it in her pussy. 

He had sex with her one more time, slowly and tenderly, and with a gentle drawn out orgasm for her before he had to leave. She refused to think of it as love making, because she certainly didn't love him, and she was sure he didn't love her, but they did have an amazing sexual compatibility, and that was all they needed, at least for now. There was no knowing how long their relationship would endure, but even if it ended soon she couldn't envisage a time in the future when she wouldn't be eager to let him fuck her, should their paths cross.

Before he left, they made arrangements to meet in a couple of days for dinner and a movie, but as she was dressing for their date he rang, suggesting instead that she meet him at his place, and he would cook a meal, and afterwards they could watch a DVD or whatever. 

It was the 'whatever' that occupied her thoughts as she rode a cab to the address he gave. After a year and a half without sex, and not particularly missing it, she had been suddenly drawn into a whirlpool of sensuality, and now after only one night without she could think of nothing else. The cab dropped her off at a house that was being renovated, and Clarence met her at the gate and guided her through the rubble. A delicious aroma of cooking greeted her as he ushered her through the door, and he wasted no time in seating her at a table. She felt an unreasoning pang of disappointment that there were no candles, but this was quickly dispersed when he served her a plate piled high with some sort of meat dish, on a bed of fragrant rice. Impressed, she tasted it tentatively, finding it at first a little spicy for her liking, but the more she ate the more she began to enjoy it. Knowing what was to follow, neither saw any need to hurry the meal, nonetheless by the time it was finished the crotch of her panties was soaked. Settling on the couch he thumbed the remote control to play a DVD, and reached to fondle her breasts. His lips met hers as his fingers worked on the buttons of her dress, and she parted her thighs in anticipation. 

No sooner had he exposed her bra than there was a loud knocking on the door. Cursing at the interruption, he went to answer, and when she heard voices she hastily covered herself. She barely had time to fasten the last button before he returned, followed by the couple she had seen with him in the bar. Although they were not drunk they had obviously been drinking, and the woman was leering at Clarence as she said loudly.

"We just came round to see if you fancy a threesome..... Oh...." She tailed off as she spotted Diane. "Sorry, we didn't know you had company."

To fill the sudden awkward silence, Clarence laughed. "These are the friends who dropped me off at the bar the other night. I'd tell them to piss off, but if it wasn't for them I wouldn't have met you." With mock seriousness he added "The ugly one is Edina, and the uglier one is Gavin."

Gavin was taller and slimmer than Clarence, and had an open friendly face. Edina was about the same age as Diane, and although she wasn't as heavily built she was still well padded. The most striking thing about her was that with her natural poise and elegance, if she had been more slender, Diane would have taken her for a fashion model but for one thing. Two things actually, and she couldn't help staring at them enviously. 'If only my boobs were as good as hers,' she thought, as she realised that for the first time in her life she was seeing another woman the way a man would. She had always been pleased when she knew a man was sexually attracted to her, but she had never really understood why he was. Now she was beginning to understand. It wasn't that she was attracted to Edina, but now she could appreciate another woman's figure, the way her hips flared and how her breasts jiggled when she moved.

She glanced at Clarence, and saw that he was looking at the newcomer with obvious interest, and remembering what Edina had said when she came in, she suddenly wished she were somewhere else. Jealousy wasn't a part of her make-up, so it didn't matter to her who he fucked, she just didn't particularly want to be there when he did it. The pattern of her thoughts set her juices flowing again, and she felt a strange satisfaction when she realised that Gavin was looking at her the same way Clarence was looking at his wife. 

Edina's voice broke into her thoughts, and she looked up. "Hey Clarence, I think Gavin fancies your lady friend. What do you reckon on his chances?"

"Diane is her own woman. She's nobody's property, so if she wants him to fuck her who am I to say no?"

The woman being discussed shifted uncomfortably. She was a little disturbed that her new lover should be so casual about what she did, but then again he was quite right. What she did with her own body was her business, and nobody had the right to object. With all three looking at her, she was finding being the centre of attention quite pleasant, despite the subject, or maybe even because of it. She wasn't accustomed to being discussed as a sex object, but now that she was it was amusing and also more than a little stimulating. 

Edina took a seat beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. "You're right. It's for her to make up her own mind." She looked at Diane thoughtfully. "Actually I think you'd like Gavin. Take it from me, he's every bit as good as Clarence. He may not be as big downstairs but he's definitely as good. And I know he'd just love these" she added, cupping Diane's boobs. 

Diane's eyes widened. It was the first time she'd ever been touched by a woman, and whilst she was uncertain she didn't protest when Edina's hands went from holding to openly stroking. Momentarily forgetting the presence of the men, she reached out a hand, suddenly wanting to feel the other woman's nipples pressing into her palms. With a smile of understanding, Edina pulled up her tee shirt to allow access to her generously proportioned dark brown tits with their hard, almost coal black tips. So intent was she on exploring the splendid globes, that it took a moment or two to register that Gavin was sitting on the other side of her unbuttoning the top of her dress. Too excited to be embarrassed, or to care who was watching, she leaned back so he could free her breasts, pleased at his unspoken appreciation as he took her stiffened nipple between his lips. A quick sideways look told her that Clarence was similarly engaged with Edina, and she returned her attention to Gavin and the pleasure he was giving her.

By now she was so worked up that she could think of only one thing, and she readily allowed him to help her to her feet and out of her clothes. She had already experienced one hard black cock, and now she was eager to discover for herself if Gavin was as good as his wife had claimed. His finger worked her clit from side to side, and she pushed her hips forward as she watched Clarence undress Edina. With her large proud tits and voluptuous hips, she looked like an exotic African fertility goddess, smiling as his fingers slid in and out of her neatly trimmed vagina.

Vaguely aware of the wetness trickling down the insides of her legs, Diane almost forgot what was happening between her own thighs as the erotic scenario unfolded. Clarence divested himself of his clothing, and Edina perched her bottom on the edge of the couch, leaning forward to take his rigid cock into her mouth, sucking momentarily before slumping back, thighs wide. Her fingers eased apart the dark lips, revealing the glistening pale inner folds and the pink tongue of her engorged clitoris. 

To Diane, time seemed to wind back to more primitive times, as the two superb black bodies came together in a ritual as old as man. As the immense ebony phallus drove into its natural receptacle, she became conscious of her own mounting orgasm, and tearing at Gavin's clothes in a frenzy of lust she threw herself backwards onto the cushions, guiding his cock into her dripping crack. 

Just as Edina had said, Gavin wasn't as well endowed as Clarence, but even so he was still bigger than Diane's husband, and she sighed with pleasure as he pushed in and out of her wet slit. Although she knew she shouldn't, as she was being fucked she couldn't help comparing. Where Clarence relied on sheer size, Gavin was all about technique. He varied the angle of penetration with each thrust so that the head of his cock explored different areas in turn. The erotic sounds emanating from the couple beside her acted directly on her own senses, and she writhed her hips, fucking him as fiercely as he was fucking her, wanting to feel him everywhere inside her, wanting the fiery fingers of passion to touch every cell of her being. Her orgasm crashed over her like a giant wave, blotting out all awareness of everything but the plundering tool sending her to the pinnacle of ecstasy. Seconds later his cock erupted, adding his steaming juice to the already liquid depths of her hole.

He continued to thrust gently, slowly easing her down from the heights as her sated pussy coaxed out the last of his cum, and she opened her eyes to see Edina with Clarence's spent cock in her hand, looking at her and shaking her head in wonderment.

"Damn, I never thought a white woman could fuck like that! Us girls had better guard our menfolk if there are many like her around, or we'll never get any."

Diane smiled to herself at the mental image of frustrated black women, cursing outside bedroom doors and weeping because their menfolk were inside fucking white women instead of them. Of course that was too unlikely, because if most women of her own race were like the friends she had grown up with, they were far too inhibited to really let themselves go. In fact it had taken the unconstrained sexuality of her present companions to release her own animal instincts. 

As the men moved to sit in the armchairs facing the couch, Edina reached for Diane's breast. "It will be a while before the boys are fit for action again." she murmured, taking a nipple between her lips and sucking briefly before continuing. "God I love these tits." Diane's lust was totally satisfied, at least for a while, but she was pleased that she was appreciated, so she leaned back with her eyes closed and gave her new friend free rein with her boobs. A comfortable warmth spread through her, and she felt a hard nipple nudging insistently against her lips. "Suck my tits baby." Her mouth opened and she sucked the puckered bud urgently as the black woman threw a leg across her, rubbing her slit up and down her meaty thigh, and smearing Clarence's cock cream over the pale skin before she tensed, and with a long sigh she resumed her place.

Diane had never seen herself as particularly alluring, but the fact that her three companions considered her to be excited her. She had never until now been the centre of attention, and she made the most of it by spreading her legs wide so the men facing her could have a clear view of her pussy. With a malicious smile and her eyes fixed on the men's faces, she lifted one breast, taking the nipple into her mouth then moved her hand down and began to slowly and deliberately manipulate her clit. Clarence was first to react, his cock stiffening and lengthening until it was again magnificently rampant. With his gaze firmly on her slit she rose from her seat and crossed the small space between them. With Edina and Gavin looking on, she parted her plump pussy lips and sank down until his immense weapon was completely engulfed. She gasped as she felt him stretching her, then sighed with pleasure. 

A week earlier she would have died with embarrassment at the thought of anyone seeing her in her underwear, but now she wanted them to watch her having sex, wanted them to see this huge tool plundering her wet twat. She rose and fell steadily, moaning with passion as Edina and Gavin took up positions on each side of her, and began kneading and sucking her enormous tits. Clarence thrust up into her and put out his hand to finger her clit, sending tremors through her whole body, and as her cum ran down his shaft she fucked him furiously, silently begging him to match her orgasm with his own. His tool finally stopped pumping his juices into her, and she slowly disengaged and slumped to her knees.

As she sat back on her heels looking at his still hard prick glistening with their secretions, Edina gently urged her aside and bent to take it in her mouth, at the same time signalling to her husband, who immediately moved behind her and thrust his cock into his wife's snatch.

Over the next several months Diane started to wonder if perhaps it had been some form of initiation, because although they often got together with Edina and Gavin socially, there was no mention of what had happened, and no suggestion that the experience should be repeated. Inevitably there had been the odd occasion when she and Gavin had fucked, just as there had been times Clarence had fucked Edina, but that was more a comfortable one on one friendship thing, rather than the uncontrolled group lust of the first occasion. She had not attained the same intensity of course, but it had nonetheless been immensely satisfying. The option of the extra cock had also contributed greatly to her contentment. There was no disputing Edina's claim that Gavin was as good as Clarence in as much as having an orgasm was concerned, but when it came down to it she preferred they way Clarence's huge organ filled her completely. Her relationship with Clarence had progressed to a point where much of their time together was spent just enjoying each other's company. Neither wanted their sex life to be reduced to a predictable routine, so for the most part their fucking was spontaneous. He was not demanding, but she was always willing and it only took the slightest hint for her to get wet.

They had been seeing each other for about five months, when one Saturday evening their friends arrived unannounced. Edina was dressed to kill, with her obviously braless boobs threatening to pop the buttons of her blouse. Diane was feeling hornier than usual, and looked at her hopefully, but Gavin announced they were on their way to a party, and thought they'd see if she and Clarence wanted to join them. They way he stressed the word 'party' caught Diane's curiosity, and she looked at Clarence questioningly. 

"Sounds good to me," he said, "but I'm not sure if it would be Diane's kind of party."

"Why shouldn't it be?" she asked, "What kind of party is it?"

Clarence looked her in the eye. "Remember when Gavin and Edina first came here? It's like that only more so."

She thought back to that incredible experience. "How do you mean, more so?"

"It's a swingers party. Everyone fucks anyone they want, except their own partners."

"Oh, I see. I'm not sure I could do that. I mean it's different with Gavin and Edina, they're friends, but I don't think I could have sex in front of strangers. Especially with a body like mine. But don't let me stop you going if you want to."

He took her hand. "They're friends now, but that first time you didn't know them at all did you? It didn't bother you then so why should it bother you now? And there'll be plenty of others there in far worse shape than you, so don't worry about it. Look, it's just a party. You don't have to screw if you don't want to. No one will mind if you just want to sit and talk. There's no pressure on anyone to do anything they're not comfortable with. Besides, not everyone likes an audience. There are those who do of course, but for those who prefer privacy there are rooms where they can have all the privacy they want." 




No Way Back



Diane looked at him thoughtfully. "You seem to know a lot about it." 

He grinned at her. "I've been to a few. What do you say? Want to go?"

She wasn't totally reassured despite what he told her, but she didn't want to spend the evening alone either, so she reluctantly agreed. After all, if it really was as he said she should be safe enough.

They all piled into Gavin's car, with Edina and Diane in the back seat. When they were under way, Edina moved closer. "Don't worry, it'll be fine." she said, resting a hand on the other woman's breast. "Just relax. If any of the guys try to feel you up tell them to leave you alone. There will be enough willing girls to go around so you won't upset anyone if you refuse." The hand on her boob seemed more protective than sexual, and that alone reassured her more than anything Clarence had said.

In due time they arrived at a large, fairly new house shielded from the road by a tall hedge. It took a little while to find a parking space before, surrounded by her companions, Diane was walking nervously up the driveway to the house. They were greeted at the door by a coffee coloured woman even larger than Diane, wearing a diaphanous negligee. Her face lit up with delight when she recognised her latest guests, and she gave a saucy laugh as Clarence boldly felt her humungus breasts before planting a kiss on her smiling lips. 

"Hello Kay," he smirked, "you're feeling well today. This is my friend Diane. She's a bit shy so make sure you look after her and protect her from your lecherous friends." 

The big woman wrapped her in a bear hug, and kissed her on the cheek. "Welcome my dear. Don't worry, you're amongst friends." Then she laughed again, and addressed Clarence. "I can guarantee she'll be safe from you, but who's going to protect her against me?" After greeting Edina and Gavin in similar fashion, she turned and led them into a large room, where several people were standing in groups drinking and chatting. "Grab yourself some drinks and nibbles, then introduce Diane to everyone." she said "I have to keep circulating."

When they had served themselves from a small bar in the corner, her three friends took her around to meet everyone. Apart from strategically placed mattresses here and there, and the fact that most of the women wore just enough to leave something to the imagination, there was nothing to indicate that this was anything other than a normal party. Moving from group to group, Clarence and Gavin would occasionally grope a breast, or one of the men they met would grope Edina's. This casual familiarity helped Diane to relax, but it seemed a little strange to her that none of the men had made the slightest attempt to feel her tits. It was then that she realised that none of the women who had had their boobs fondled were wearing bras. It was as though the lack of this particular undergarment was viewed by the men as a tacit invitation, and she suddenly felt overdressed. 

The more people she met the more she realised that Clarence had been right. Very few here were exactly model material, but judging by the way they were dressed she was the only one self conscious about her figure. Although she wasn't too sure she had the nerve to take advantage of the mattresses, she was beginning to feel better about herself, and was becoming a little envious of the attention some of the other women were receiving. Even if she didn't go any further she saw no reason not to enjoy having her boobs fondled, so she excused herself and went into the bathroom and removed her bra. Tucking it into her bag, she returned to her friends to find that they had been joined by Kay and a tall distinguished looking man several shades darker, who Kay introduced as her husband Eric. They exchanged pleasantries for several minutes, and then a slim blonde woman approached and whispered to Kay, who nodded and turned away and clapped her hands for attention. 

"OK, boys and girls," she called loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. Let's get comfortable."

This was the signal they had all obviously been waiting for, and people began to pair off. Some couples began to drift from the room, apparently in search of privacy, and as the throng thinned, two things occurred to Diane. One was that there were undoubtedly more men present than women, a fact that would probably suit many of the women, given the nature of the gathering. The other was that as far as she could tell, she and the blonde seemed to be the only white people here.

She hesitated, uncertain what to do. There was no uncertainty amongst her companions however, as with a broad grin Clarence turned to their hostess and stripped her of her negligee, before leading her towards one of the mattresses. A second later the fair haired woman opened her shirt and guided Gavin's hands to her small breasts, then reached to unfasten his belt. 

Beside her, Eric laughed and turned to Diane. "Well, someone is sure in a hurry," he chuckled pointing to his wife, who had wasted no time relieving Clarence of his pants, and was lying back eagerly guiding his rigid cock into her. Diane held her breath as she watched the huge organ disappear, then she jumped with surprise when Eric nudged her. "Watching Kay being fucked never fails to turn me on." he whispered. "She certainly likes them big." Diane smiled in agreement as he turned away to survey the guests, then she noticed that Gavin and Edina were no longer beside her. She looked round for them and saw that they had already got into the party spirit. The blonde who had spoken to Kay was stretched out on a mattress with Gavin kneeling astride her thrusting in and out of her mouth. In turn his wife was on all fours between her thighs, licking her pussy and being fucked from behind by another man.

Disconcerted at being left to her own devices, Diane was almost relieved when a man approached and began to blatantly fondle her breasts. Encouraged by her apparent acquiescence, he unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it down her arms. The fact that he was a total stranger struck an unexpected chord within her, and she let her pent up breath out slowly as her nipples responded to his attention. All of her earlier uncertainty began to fade, and she made no attempt to prevent him slipping his hand under her skirt, parting her legs to stroke her panty covered crotch. The erotic activities all around her, coupled with the unmistakable smells and sounds of sex were too much for Diane to resist, and she stood quietly as he removed the rest of her clothing. By now most of the mattresses were occupied by two and in some cases three couples, but they spotted one where two women were lying, with their faces buried in each other's crotches whilst a group of men looked on. Taking her hand, he led her over and eased her down beside the pair, before undressing and joining her. The first touch of his fingers on her clit was almost like an electric shock, and reaching for his cock she opened her legs wide, aware that the attention of some of the watchers had switched to her and her companion. 

When Clarence had first suggested she come along she had balked at the thought of strangers seeing her having sex, but now that was exactly what she wanted, and knowing she was about to be fucked by a stranger with other strangers looking on only added to her excitement. As he pushed into her she smiled at those watching and started fondling her tits. Just as she hoped, one of them dropped to his knees beside her, replacing her hands with his own, then lowering his mouth to her nipple. She raised her hips as the man between her thighs began to thrust in and out, and after a few moments the other whispered in her ear. 

"Will it be OK if I have a turn?"

The way she was feeling at that moment she would be happy to take on all comers, so by way of reply she grasped his cock and nodded assent. He grinned and went back to sucking her tits and she concentrated on being fucked. Her climax started to build and she moved her pelvis to meet the thrusts, but just when she was approaching her peak he grunted and spilled his cum into her. She was almost ready to scream with frustration, but directly he pulled out the second man took his place and began to fuck her frantically. Her heels beat a tattoo on his butt as she tried to force him deeper, and she gasped with relief as her orgasm washed over her. For several minutes longer he drove in and out, maintaining her plateau until he gave a final shove, keeping his shaft buried deep as his sticky jizz flooded her already dripping hole. Thanking her politely he withdrew his softening pole, and satisfied for the moment at least, she rose from the mattress and went to the bathroom to clean up before going in search of another drink.

Sipping slowly she looked around the room. She had to admit that so far she'd had quite a pleasant time. True the first fuck hadn't been as good as she had hoped, but it had warmed her up and the second had more than made up for it. Understandably she was no longer as horny as previously, but she knew it wouldn't take much to get her back in the mood. Even as the thought came to her, she heard a high pitched giggle behind her, and turning round she saw Edina standing with legs apart, laughing as a group of men took turns feeling her up. 

Noticing Diane's gaze she broke away and wandered over, taking the glass from her hand and sipping before handing it back. "Enjoying yourself?" Receiving a nod of agreement she smiled. "We told you it would be fun, how many so far?" When Diane held up two fingers she grinned. "Great, you should be nice and puffy down there then. Let's find a space and I'll kiss it better."

The larger woman hesitated. It had never entered her mind to let another woman touch her there, but then she remembered the time they had first met. How nice it had been to feel those hard black nipples pressing into her palm, and how exciting it had been to take them into her mouth. Her friend's fingers on her slit brought her back to the present, and she knew the time had come for her to explore new sensual avenues. Hand in hand they looked round for a vacant place on one of the mattresses. Uncertain what was supposed to happen Diane lay with her legs parted slightly, waiting for her more experienced friend to take the lead. Dropping to her knees the darkly statuesque woman worked two fingers in and out of her hole, thumb rubbing the swollen clit whilst leaning forward to offer her generous breasts to be sucked and fondled. After several moments she changed position, kneeling astride Diane's head and lowering her mouth to lick her slit. Looking up at the neat pussy hovering scant inches above her face, Diane moaned softly and raised her head, parting the brown lips with her tongue and exploring the pink inner folds. As she dipped into the exotic hole she could taste the cum of the last man who had fucked it, and she wrinkled her nose, but since her own pussy was receiving so much oral pleasure she persisted. Her taste buds gradually adjusted, and she discovered that her former aversion to having semen in her mouth was steadily diminishing. She told herself that even though it was unlikely she would ever actually like the taste, she no longer saw any reason to object to it. 

Having settled the matter in her mind she concentrated on some serious muff munching. Focussing on what Edina was doing to bring on the delicious sensations she was experiencing, she copied every move, on the theory that a woman licked another pussy the way she liked her own licked. After all Edina was giving her an orgasm, so if she did the same she should be able to give Edina an orgasm too. In the past she had regarded having full on sex with a woman in much the same light as swallowing a man's cock cream, so now that she was doing it she was surprised how much she was enjoying it. Parting the chocolate hued lips she sucked hard on the engorged pink love bud, gulping the juices that flooded her mouth as Edina shuddered in orgasm.

She lay panting as Edina rolled off her and turned round to plant a deep kiss on her cum coated mouth and whisper in her ear. "That was sensational. I knew you could fuck like one of us, but if I'd thought for a second that you could eat a cunt like one of us I would have had you months ago. I'm going cock hunting." This last was added with a lascivious grin. Despite her surprise at what she decided was meant as a compliment, Diane smiled with delight. She had been sure that her inexperience would have been obvious, so she had hoped her enthusiasm would mask it, and the fact that she had apparently given as much pleasure as she had received boosted her confidence. 

As a result of all that had happened since she first walked through the door, she was on the most incredible sexual high, and she didn't want to come down, so she decided to follow Edina's example. Thanks to the attention she had been receiving, not only from the two men who had fucked her and Edina, who had introduced her to all-female sex, but also from those who had watched, for the first time in far too many years she felt attractive and desirable. Climbing to her feet she looked around at the people gathered around each mattress watching the erotic activities. Shocked at what she was about to do, but too horny to stop herself, she picked one man out and wrapped her fingers around his erection. "It would be a shame to let this go to waste," she murmured, "especially when I have just the place to put it." He looked at her in pleased surprise, then put out his hand to feel her moist pussy before laying her down and thrusting into her. She had never imagined that a woman could possibly feel this horny, certainly not herself, and even as he was fucking her to yet another orgasm, she was looking round for another cock to fill her insatiable cunt as soon as he had finished. When she had received her third load of cum for the evening, she got up from the mattress and went looking for someone else to fuck her. 

Her mission was interrupted when Kay called out loudly, "Nibbles everyone." Diane turned to look in her direction, and burst out laughing. The hostess and her husband were coming in from the kitchen, each carrying a tray piled high with hot savouries. The cause of her amusement was that Kay was still naked, but for a novelty apron which sported a massive artificial inflated penis hanging almost to her ankles. Eric was similarly attired in an apron with enormous conical inflated breasts that stood out at least twelve inches, above a large pubic triangle of fake fur. Upon drawing closer, Diane saw that the overall comical effect was topped off with oversize teardrop shaped beads, suspended from the lower point of the triangle to represent large drops of semen. She burst into a fit of embarrassed giggling as the thought struck her that that was probably how she looked. Maybe she wasn't so hairy, but she was certainly aware of the cum leaking from her slit, so picking up a paper napkin she turned her back and discreetly wiped herself. 

When she turned back Clarence had joined Eric and Kay, and all three were deep in conversation. She selected a couple of savouries and stood slightly apart from the trio, not wanting to appear to be eavesdropping. A few moments later Kay moved closer to her and spoke matter of factly, almost as though she was talking about the weather. "That's one hell of a fine cock your man has. I have to admit he's best fuck I ever had. Apart from Eric, that is." Reaching out, she hefted one of Diane's huge boobs. "Hey Eric, how would you like to play with these babies?" 

Her husband looked at the expanse of white flesh and grinned. "You know me too well, wife of mine." He put out a tentative hand, and asked "Do you mind?" 

Diane smiled and shook her head. "I guess such a courteous host is entitled to some small privileges." 

"These are magnificent," he said, running his hands over her tits, and her smile widened as he reached down to feel between her legs. When he felt her wetness he looked her in the eye. "Shall we fuck?" 

She nodded eagerly, and lay down on the nearest mattress with her legs wide, wanting to feel his eyes on her. Watching his face uncertainly, she reached down to pull apart her pussy lips, sighing with relief at his delighted smile. Reaching up, she tugged his apron off impatiently and gasped as she saw the obvious reason he had said Kay liked them big. Clarence was impressive, but this was awesome. 

Suddenly she was filled with a mixture of apprehension, curiosity and excitement. She was apprehensive because she wasn't the least bit certain that such a gargantuan love muscle would be able to fit into her pussy without causing severe pain. It was almost half as thick again as Clarence's glorious pleasure pole and looked to be at least two inches longer. On the other hand she was curious enough to want to know for certain, and just the thought excited her to the point that her juices were already providing more than enough lubrication for her to want him to try. He stretched out beside her, sucking avidly on her nipples as his fingers explored her slit, taking his time stimulating her clit and judging her readiness. She began to moan softly, undulating her hips, and he moved between her widespread thighs, positioning the rubbery tip of his tool at the entrance to her femininity. 

Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate on relaxing her muscles as the giant cock was forced deep inside her twat, but she was unable to stifle a groan as her fuck tunnel was stretched until she felt certain it would burst. She was almost ready to plead with him to stop, when she felt him withdraw until only the head was still inside her, and then he slowly thrust back into her. A sigh of pleasure mixed with relief escaped her as she felt her cunt adjusting to his size, and she lifted her nipple to his mouth. Her excitement started to grow as he fucked her slowly and rhythmically and she lifted her hips to meet him. Matching his powerful thrusts, she looked up through slitted lids and saw Clarence stroking his erection as he watched Eric's cunt splitter driving in and out. With her eyes pleading, she opened her mouth wide, and he dropped to his knees and thrust his stiff rod between her lips. Having two cocks in her at the same time was another first for her, and she sucked passionately, willing both men to fill her with cum. She tried unsuccessfully to tighten her inner muscles around Eric's driving rod, but it proved unnecessary because the immense organ erupted, pouring a flood of hot lava deep inside her well stuffed cunt. Seconds later Clarence's tool delivered a load of sticky jism into her furiously sucking mouth.

As the two men withdrew their spent cocks from her cum filled apertures, she thought of a popular boast of the non white section of the population. Tonight she had "gone black" and she certainly in no hurry to go back. Unless of course Kay and Eric hosted another party, and then she would definitely be back.



No Way Back



I got into the habit of sleeping in my den, and several times over the next week or so I'd awaken in the middle of the night to see her standing in the doorway, silently watching me. In over 10 years together this was the very worst thing that had ever happened to us.

Then one night I got a phone call that I wasn't expecting.

"Hey stranger"

"Who is this?" I asked

"It's Brandy" she replied.

"Hi" I said perking up.

"Don't try it Romeo, your voice sounded like you lost your best friend and I know why. Marge has been talking to your wife daily, pumping her full her crap and her new plan is to try and make up with you, and then do it without you knowing it" she told me.

"What" was all I could say.

"Yep, you heard me" said Brandy "Then after the dirty deed is done she's going to fuck your brains out, and after you guys are back on solid ground, she'll tell you that she did it, and show you that it didn't make any difference in your relationship"

"Thanks Brandy" I said, "you're a good friend" and I hung up the phone.

The next day I called my lawyer, and had him start on the divorce papers. He couldn't believe that Beth and I were in trouble. "Is there no way to work this out?" he asked.

"That depends on Beth" I told him.

I separated all of our accounts by taking my name off of the joint accounts after transferring half of the money in each to a new account in my name only.

I removed Beth's name as beneficiary on my insurance and retirement accounts. That only left the house. The house was mine before I ever met Beth, so I hoped that I could keep it, but if we had to sell it and split the proceeds at least I wouldn't have to worry about living among all the memories of things we'd done in that house. I also got the name of a good fast locksmith who could be called 24/7 in case of an emergency.

When I got home that night, Beth was waiting for me. She hit me with the "we need to talk" speech as soon as I opened the door.

"Eric, I love you and I miss you, can't we go back to how we were?" she asked "Why do we have to fight about this?"

"Beth what we have is called irreconcilable differences, and unless one of us gives in, we can't go back to how we were. And "we" aren't fighting because thanks to Marge, "we" haven't said a word to each other, in 2 weeks" I said.

"Beth "I'm" the one who's fighting. I'm fighting for my marriage, for the woman of my dreams" I told her. "You're willing to just kick over the apple cart because Marge says to"

"Beth, have you ever heard the expression 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it?' Before Marge started filling your head with shit, was there anything wrong with us?" I asked. "Also, if Marge is such a fucking expert on relationships, why has she been married and divorced 3 times. If Marge knows so much about how to keep a man...."

"Why is she alone?" I asked.

"Anyway, Beth, I love you, I always have and I want us to grow old together, just you and me. Not you, me, Marge and the guys she wants you to fuck. Take some time and think about it. I do not own you, I understand that no matter what Marge thinks, but I thought, that I did own a little piece of your heart, the same way that you've always owned a piece of mine" I said.

I left Beth standing in the doorway, went upstairs to take a shower, and went into the den.

She knocked on the door at about 10 p.m. and asked me if I was coming to bed. But as much as I wanted to go with her, I shook my head no.

Maybe I should have gone up to our bedroom with her and made love with her. Perhaps that would have turned the tide towards my arguments, and maybe we could have gone back to the way things were. God knows that that was what I wanted more than anything else. But I needed to know that my opinions and feelings mattered to Beth more than Marge's did. If they didn't we'd have no future anyway.

I guess I drank way too much soda that night, because in the middle of the night I had to piss really badly. I went to the upstairs bathroom and on my way there I heard Beth crying softly. I felt like such an asshole. If this was making up maybe fighting was better.

Saturday I went out to run. I knew that this was going to be the last day of this shit one way or another. When I got home Beth wasn't there, she'd made her decision. I took a shower and headed downtown. Instead of driving my Fusion, I went to the garage and took the cover off of my Mustang. I hardly ever drove the car because I tended to feel invincible in it, and that made me drive stupidly.

I went to the movies and caught Ironman 2. When I got back to the car it was starting to get dark and I saw the message light on my iPhone. I had 12 messages in the last 2 hours.

Just then the phone rang again. I had to go to the hospital, Beth was there. I got to the hospital in no time. The argument between us was forgotten. I went to the desk and asked for Beth's room number. I was told that she had just come out of the emergency room and would be available soon. She was on pain killers and resting comfortably. I asked what was wrong with her but no one would tell me.

In the waiting room, I saw Marge, and I knew something serious had happened. 

"It's not my fault" she said. "I....I just wan....."

"Shut up cunt!" I snapped

A nurse let me into Beth's room and I went in immediately. As I neared the bed I saw her. Her beautiful face was bruised and she had a swollen eye that would be black tomorrow. I was pissed beyond my ability to express it. 

I took one of her small hands in mine, and just held it. I sat there all night until she woke up.

At about 2 in the morning, her one good eye opened, I think the other one tried to as well. She smiled when she saw me, "I didn't think you would come" she said.

"Why wouldn't I come, Beth?" I asked "I'm still your husband aren't I? Whenever you needed anything, I've always been there for you"

"But....." she started

"What happened?" I asked.

Beth looked like she was going to cry and started to say something but words wouldn't come.

The door opened and the doctor stepped in. He looked at both of Beth's eyes, looked under her sheet, and finally listened to her heartbeat.

"She'll be fine, in a couple of days" he said. "She's going to be sore down there for a few weeks so I would suggest that you wait until she isn't sore to resume sexual activity. You can take her home in the morning" and then he left.

I turned to Beth, and saw tears rolling down her face. I left the hospital and drove straight to Marge's house. I didn't use her driveway, I drove across her lawn. I jumped up on her porch and kicked her door repeatedly until I heard someone trying to open it. It was Brandy. She looked at me and pointed towards the stairs. I ran up the stairs and went from room to room until I found her.

She was cowering in her bed.

"Get up Bitch" I screamed. "What happened?"

"She....she.... she wanted it... at first, but then she didn't... and he" she stuttered.

It turned out, that as per Marge's plan, she had tried to hook Beth up with Ramon.

He was a personal trainer from the gym Marge went to and Marge had fucked him a few times. Ramon was a Cuban and had a really big dick. The problem was that my Beth had a really tight pussy and even under the best circumstances those two things don't really match. Add that to the fact that Beth changed her mind at the last minute and decided she couldn't go through with it and you've got a real problem.

Ramon, when told no after getting himself all worked up, had decided to get "Macho" and force himself on Beth. She then tried to close her legs and pushed him off of her. His pride was wounded at the rejection he had slapped and hit Beth several times and then tried to force his giant dick inside her, thinking that once he got it in she'd love it. Since she was producing no lubrication, he'd bruised and tore her vagina. Brandy had come home and brought her to the hospital.

The police had already got Ramon in jail, so looking for him would do no good. I thanked Brandy for her help and for taking care of Beth and got ready to go home.

"We aren't finished by a long-shot Bitch" I said to Marge.

"Where are you going?" asked Brandy

"I'm going home" I answered.

"Do you need some company? What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I wish I knew" I told her. "Obviously my marriage is over"

"Why?" she asked, "She wasn't going to go through with it. He did this against her will" she said.

"But for her to be there in the first place, when I had already specifically let her know that I was against this, means that Marge's opinion matters to her more than my feelings, so maybe she should be married to Marge instead of me. But that won't be a problem for much longer" I stated.

Brandy came with me and I saw Marge watching as we left.

When we got to my house, Brandy just held me while I cried my eyes out. I know that we rough and tough guys are not supposed to cry, but I bawled like a little bitch. I felt like someone had just reached into my chest and dug my heart out with a dirty plastic spoon.

"This doesn't have to be the end. She loves you, so much" said Brandy "She kept saying "I didn't want to" and "I changed my mind" the whole time we were taking her to the hospital"

"If she really loved me, she wouldn't have been there in the first place" I said again. "For the past few weeks we've been barely tolerating each other, because of some shit that your sister put into her head" I said emphatically. "I was very clear on my position with her. She made her decision, now we'll both have to live with the consequences" I said quietly.

"But this is all my sister's fault, just like the others" said Brandy

"What others?" I asked.

"Susan and her husband were doing fine until Marge started telling Susan about how strong your relationship with Beth was. She got Susan to thinking that her husband should be more like you, he should do this and that, and she shouldn't settle for less. He tried it for a few weeks, but after a while he told her that if she couldn't love him the way he was she could find someone else" she explained.

"He filed for a divorce and left her with the kids, and now she's miserable" Brandy said, looking at me. "Marge also convinced Amy to confront her husband about all of the thin women he stared at. She convinced Amy that her husband was cheating on her with his secretary. She got a PI to follow him around, for 2 months, and since Amy doesn't have a job her husband was paying to have himself watched" she laughed. "It cost almost thirty thousand dollars. He wasn't cheating, his secretary is a lesbian. Marge told Amy she could be happy now that she knew her husband wasn't cheating, but it didn't help because her husband was so upset about the lack of trust in their marriage that he filed for divorce last week" she said sadly.

I sat in silence for a few minutes as the extent of Marge's manipulation sank in.

"Maybe she just doesn't want to see anyone else happy if she can't be" Brandy finally said.

"Maybe she just doesn't like men" I shot back.

"Well that doesn't run in the family" said Brandy.

The next morning, Brandy and I picked up Beth at the hospital.

"I didn't think you'd come back" said Beth.

I didn't answer her and I just pushed her wheel chair to the doorway and went to bring the car around.

I drove us home and made her some soup, and some tea, for her raw throat.

Before you get an idea in your head, her throat was raw from crying, Ramon only got her in one place.

I gave her a little bell she could ring if she needed me and I told her if I heard it I'd come immediately.

For the next 2 weeks, I took care of Beth around the clock and did whatever she needed; I bathed her, fed her, gave her massages, and rubbed lotion into her bruises. I combed, brushed and washed her hair. I moved a TV into the bedroom for her to watch. We never had a TV in our room because we wanted the room to be specifically for 2 things; sleeping was the first and you know the other thing. Anyway I did everything but talk to her.

Every time she tried to start a conversation, I left the room. If she rang the bell, I came. If I walked in and she starting talking about the incident or Marge or how sorry she was, I left.

Beth had a few nightmares about it. We knew that when she got better, she'd have to go to counseling. Her doctor had dropped by a few times to check on her, and she'd been to the hospital a couple of times as well. I didn't care, I just wanted her better. When the subject of counseling came up, I once betrayed my true feelings by saying "Why doesn't she just talk to fucking Marge, Marge knows everything".

Marge had not been seen or heard from since the incident. I anonymously bailed Ramon out of jail and waited for him outside of his "shit-hole" apartment. As soon as he got out of his car, I blindsided him with a baseball bat. I kicked Ramon in his nuts 10 times. One for every year of the marriage he fucked up. He didn't feel all of them though because he blacked out after the first 3 and long before the blood stained the front of his jeans. I woke him up by pissing in his face, and all he could say was "Marja, Marja, she tell me no stop. She tell me no stop" I had him repeat it while I recorded it on the digital recorder app on my iPhone.

I told Ramon that if I ever heard from him again, I'd have him killed. I dropped him off in front of the sane hospital Beth had been in.

Beth's recovery seemed to be taking a lot longer than the doctor's predicted. The nightmares were also so bad now that she woke up in the middle of the night screaming and crying. It was almost as if she didn't want to get better. Several times she'd screamed in the middle of the night and I went running into her room and held her hand until she fell back to sleep. She wouldn't let go of my hand so I ended up lying next to her all night. When it happened again the next night, I awoke to find her spooned in front of me with her holding my arm against her breasts. As I tried to disentangle myself I found that it, and I, was hard. I wanted her so badly I could taste it. 

"I miss having you in me so much" she said. "Do you realize it's been almost a month, since we made love? That is not natural for us. I think it's time for us to have a baby anyway" she said.

I looked at her like she was crazy, and got up roughly.

"Beth you think we could...." I started but before I could finish my sentence she said,

"It's still a little sore, but I want to so badly" she said

"Maybe we should have the doctor check you out" I replied.

"Whatever you want sweetheart" she said smiling. "Even if we can't do anything, I'm glad we're talking again. I realized a lot of things lately"

Damn, I thought, she just won't fucking shut up.

"I love you so much and I can't believe how close I came to losing the most important person in the world to me. I had doubts about whether or not you loved me enough for us to try to get past this but for weeks now, as pissed at me as you are, you've always been there for me. Way more than I deserved, I'll love you forever" she said

I turned and left the room, without saying shit.

I went back into the room a few minutes later and took her my phone. I played the recording of Ramon for her. She was seething with anger at Marge and could barely look at Ramon.

"It was awful" she said "Every time I see you, I get wet. You can look at me in a certain way and I'm ready to fuck but with him, it just didn't work. I was all excited about trying someone new, but my heart wasn't in it so my body didn't react" she said beginning to cry. "And you know how tight I am down there anyway. I can't believe that Marge told him not to stop" she said and started crying harder. "That bitch was just trying to mess us up" she snapped

"I told you that from the beginning" I said.

"Well no one will ever come between us again, I promise" she said, trying to pull me down for a kiss.

"No one will" I said "Tomorrow's a big day"

"Why?" she asked

"Well first we've got to see the doctor, to see if we can, you know" I said faking a smile.

She smiled as I said it.

"We've also got to clear the air with Marge, this all needs to be sorted out" I said

"And then this will all be over, and we can go on with our lives? Will you sleep with me and hold me tonight, even if we can't make love?" she asked.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea" I said, "I might get too worked up, and hurt you"

"It would feel so good it'd be worth it. What if I have a nightmare?" she asked.

"Well just remember that after tomorrow, this whole nightmare will be over and we'll both finally be where we should be" I said solemnly

As soon as I left the room, I called Brandy and told her that Beth wanted to speak to Marge tomorrow to clear the air.

"What's going on? Are you and Beth finally getting back together?" she asked, and I think I heard a bit of sadness in her voice.

"Not a chance, but don't tell anyone" I smirked. "Actually when this whole thing is done there's something else I'm thinking a lot about" I said. "I don't drink alcohol, but I want to try a certain type of liquor"

"I'll buy you a bottle" she said, "I got drunk a lot during my divorce"

The next morning the doctor came by at about 11 a.m. He gave Beth a complete clearance to not only return to work, but to resume having sex.

He did tell us to go slow and be very gentle at first, but he saw no problems.

Beth joined me in the den, with a smile on her face. At noon Marge and Brandy stopped by.

Marge came into the den and saw Beth for the first time since the incident and she moved to hug Beth who moved away from her angrily. Before they could say anything the doorbell rang.

I escorted 3 men into the room. Marge looked at 2 of the men strangely.

"Marge, the reason we're here is to clear the air about this whole situation" I said.

I stood next to Beth, with my hand on her shoulder.

"When my Beth first met you, we were madly in love" I began. "We had a very good and very close marriage. Besides being my wife, Beth was my lover, my confidant, my best friend and my soul mate. You, Marge, twisted her head around and you took all of that away from me" I said with a really vicious tone in my voice.

"But I was just trying to h...." began Marge.

"Marge, how could you have helped, you've been married and divorced 3 times. You couldn't even hold onto any of your own husbands, so how could you help other women hold on to theirs?" I asked.

Marge sat down and stared at her shoes. This wasn't going the way she thought it would.

"But Marge, you didn't just help Beth and me, you destroyed 2 other marriages as well" I said. "Mr. Martin here is an officer of the court" the little man approached Marge.

"Marge Blair?" he asked

"Yes" she said

"You've been served" he handed her 3 sets of papers.

"What are these?" she screamed

"You are being sued on three counts of alienation of affection leading to the end of 3 marriages"

"You deserve it you bitch" said Beth squeezing my hand tighter, then her face paled. "Wait, there's only two divorces you mentioned"

Mr. Martin came to our side of the room.

"Beth Sanders"

"Yes" she said hesitantly

"You've been served" He handed Beth her divorce papers.

"Why" she screamed, "I love you! You told me when this was over, we'd be back together" she said through her tears. "We can get past this" she said pleadingly.

"You didn't love me enough to listen to me when I was begging you to help me fight for what we had" I said coldly "And you "heard" that when all this was over we'd be back together, but what I said was when this was over we'd be where we should be. And to me, I should be with someone who loves me enough to put me first. You should obviously be with Marge and we're already 'past this' as you put it" I said.




No Way Back



"Then what's the problem?" she asked with tears streaming from her eyes.

"The problem is that we're a long way from where we were when this started, and there's no way back. I packed up your stuff for you while I was taking care of you. We're splitting everything down the middle 50/50. It's a good thing we didn't have kids" I said sadly

"I still want to have your babies" she said trying to put her arms around me.

"Well have them with Marge" I said "you put her opinion before my feelings, and let her destroy the trust we'd built over 10 years. If you really loved me as much as you keep saying" I told her "that would never have happened. And on top of that you willingly played all of her little games, just to get me to agree to her foolishness. I loved you with all my heart, but it's gone now" I said sadly.

6 months later the divorce was final and I got my liquor. The kind that I wanted didn't come in a bottle. Yup, it was Brandy. I love her like there's no tomorrow. We got together, got married, we have 2 kids now, and it's great.

We talk about everything together not through anyone else. She loves all of the little things I do for her, she loves me too, and we keep everyone else out of our marriage.

Beth went a little crazy when she realized that we were not going to get back together. She ended up in a psych ward after trying to kill Marge. Believe it or not Brandy visits her often. I don't, because it's too painful for me to see her the way she is now and have to compare her in my mind to how she was. It's also bad for her because she still thinks that she and I are together and she has a relapse whenever she sees me. 

Amy and her husband got back together, as did Susan and hers. We all get together often to just hang out and be. Marge left town and never came back. Last we heard she was living with an even bigger woman and giving marital advice from an internet website.



No Way Honey __ Anne



Hi again ___ Another in this little series, so sorry no real sex.

A sad little story this one, and I don't normally like them myself. But this one was inside and had to come out.

Hope you like it.

Thanks for all the comments on the others by the way. Without them writing wouldn't be the same.

-----------------------------------------

Oh God what a mess I've made of my life.

Just a week ago everything was just so perfect, and then I went and ruined it all.

I had the most wonderful husband, and a wonderful life.

Now, at twenty-six I have neither, and life looks so bleak.

No I didn't go to bed with another man and lose him if that's what you're thinking. It was worse than that ____ much worse.

------------------------------------------------



Dave was sitting down to dinner just over one week ago when I asked him that damn question. I shouldn't have asked him of course, but I felt cornered, and had to do something.

"Dave," I started hesitantly. "Would you mind too much if another man saw my breasts?"

He looked up, a puzzled look on his face, but at least the hint of a smile around his mouth.

"They have Anne," he answered slowly. "Hundreds of them have. The last two years on the beach on holiday you've been topless, and with a body like yours lots of guys would have looked."

"I didn't mean like that Dave," I replied carefully, trying to find the right words. "I mean .... Well I mean like in private. Taking my top off to show him my bare breasts."

"Is this some kind of joke Anne?" He demanded, all hints of his smile disappearing.

I wished it was, I really did, but life isn't always straightforward as much as you might wish it to be.

"It's Joe I'm talking about Dave." I told him, and his face clouded over. 

He had sympathy with Joe's position, but simply couldn't understand how I felt about him. How I just needed to help him in the terrible state he was in. We'd been at school together and he'd never seemed too well, but during the last few years he'd got worse, much worse, and unless he got a double organ transplant soon then he wouldn't survive. The trouble was finding one that was compatible, and so far they just hadn't been able to. Poor Joe was house bound, and could hardly leave his bed, so I spent a lot of time round at his place trying to cheer him up. 

Dave thought I spent far too much time round there, but put up with it, as he knew I had been friendly with Joe for so long. 

"So bloody Joe not only monopolizes my wife, but wants her to flash her tits off him as well does he," Dave asked in a calm voice that hardly hid his annoyance.

"Be fair please Dave," I pleaded with him, trying not to cry. "Poor Joe has never had a girl friend and very likely never will. He's never seen a girl's bare breasts, not in real life."

I looked up at Dave and saw that he wasn't happy, not happy at all. But at least he wasn't shouting and screaming at me as I had worried he might. 

Time to make my confession.

"I did it Dave," I whispered to him, unable to keep something like that secret from him. "This afternoon when his Mum went out shopping, I took my top off and let him look at my breasts. He didn't touch them ___ just looked."

Dave looked sad ___ just so sad.

I didn't know what else to say to him, and had no idea what he'd say next.

"How long did he look?" He asked at last.

"Does it matter how long Dave?" I replied, wanting to stand up and run to him, cuddle him to show him how much I loved him.

He shook his head sadly and sighed. 

"I don't know what to say Anne. I really don't. I can sort of understand why you did it, and I can imagine how much it must have bucked up Joe. But I'm not very happy about it ___ Not very happy at all."

It wasn't the right moment to tell him the rest of what was bothering me. Not something I'd done, but something I'd promised. I wished I hadn't but I had.

At least he'd more or less accepted what I'd done, showing my breasts off to Joe, but what I'd promised was far more serious, and I simply couldn't bring myself to do it without getting Dave's consent. 

At twenty-six, poor Joe was still a virgin. Never really even had a proper girl friend in his life, and little chance of ever getting one as his life slipped slowly away. He desperately didn't want to die a virgin and had begged me to do it with him just once. He didn't even really have the strength to get on top of me, and I'd have to be very careful when I got on top of him.

If I did it that is!

Oh God how had I got myself into this awful situation?

The atmosphere in our room was a little difficult for the rest of the evening. Dave didn't say much, and I could tell he was brooding about what I'd done. I spent the evening wondering how on earth I would broach the subject and when.

Dave went up to bed a few moments before me, and by the time I got there he was already in between the sheets. I started to undress, and as I unclasped my bra and dropped it, Dave laughed.

"What's up?" I asked him.

"That Joe was a very lucky chap," Dave remarked. "That's the best pair of boobs I've ever seen, so I suppose I can't stay angry too long just because you flashed them."

I shook my breasts at him and Dave's smile just got wider and wider. Eventually he grabbed me and dragged me onto the bed, his hands then his mouth seeking out my breasts. 

We made love as well as we had ever done before, both of us having orgasms several times before we fell asleep exhausted.

My last thoughts as I drifted off were that he would understand why I had promised poor Joe. I was pretty sure of that now, and resolved to bring up the subject in the morning.

-----------------------------------------------

Dave was in a good mood at breakfast, and I waited for the right moment to bring the subject up.

I guess I waited too long, and by the time I got the courage to start, Dave was almost ready to leave for work.

"You don't mind too much about Joe and my boobs then?" I asked nervously.

He laughed, which encouraged me to continue. I plunged straight in and told him what I had promised Joe, that I would have sex with him just once before he was too weak to take part.

I misjudged Dave. I got it completely wrong.

He stood there and looked at me, his face showing the anger and disbelief at what I had just told him.

"No way honey ___No bloody way!" he told me, his voice rising as his temper rose.

"But Dave," I complained. "It's just the once, and it's Joe's only chance."

"Then pay some bloody hooker to do it then," he shouted at me loudly.

"No Dave we couldn't do that, it would just be so heartless." I shot back, my own voice showing that I was upset with his attitude.

"Heartless ___ fucking heartless," he screamed at me, really losing his rag. "Go ahead and fuck him if you must, and tear my heart out at the same time."

"Dave, you're being stupid," I screamed back at him losing all control. "I wouldn't stop loving you. It's only bloody sex after all, and we both had plenty of that before we met one another." 

"Oh great," Dave said hatefully." That's fine isn't it. Just remind me again of all the men you fucked before you met me. And now you want to add to the list and want me to agree ___ well I don't, and never will!"

"Oh Dave," I whined at him. "Please don't be like this. Please understand. It's just once that's all. It needn't come between us."

"No," he shouted as loud as he could. " I don't understand, and never will."

"Bastard," I shouted back, adding without thinking. "Then I'll do it whether you like it or not."

"Then don't be surprised if I'm not here when you come back," he screamed at me, and with that he picked up his briefcase and stormed out of the house.

I stood there for a few moments shaking with anger. I suppose I was so upset at poor Joe's problems that I wasn't seeing things straight. 

I rushed to the front door to grab Dave and apologize to him. To tell him how silly I was being, and how I just hadn't thought of his side.

I was too late.

As I stood at the door, I heard his Mercedes roar, as he slammed it into gear and shot out of our drive, the wheels throwing up gravel as he accelerated away. A tear ran down my cheek as I heard the tyres squeal as he took the first corner, and disappeared from my view. 

"Sorry my love," I whispered as I stood there wondering quite what I had done.

Rushing back indoors, I grabbed my mobile phone and rang him, but all I got was the answer phone.

"Sorry Dave," I cried into it. "I won't do it I promise. Please ring me my love."

---------------------------------------------------------------

I had no work that day, but made my way unhappily down to the shops to get something special for dinner. It was late morning when I found myself at Joe's front door, not looking forward to telling him that I was going to break my promise.

It had been one of the worst days of my life, but it was about to change completely and become one of the best. When I rang the doorbell, Joe's mother answered, and I could see from her face that something special had happened. She was beaming and excited, as she cuddled me and told me the great news.

A donor had been found, and the ambulance was on its way to pick up Joe, and take him to the hospital. There was no time to lose, and all thoughts of my earlier problems evaporated as I laughed and joked with Joe and his Mum.

I realized that there would now be no need for me to keep my promise, and I decided to ring Dave. 

I'd forgotten my mobile and borrowed their phone, but again had to leave a message for Dave, not forgetting to tell him how much I loved him.

Then I'm afraid I forgot all about Dave, as the excitement of getting Joe ready and following them to the hospital took over all my attention.

St. Matilda's was a big teaching hospital not too far away, and before long we were there, standing aside as the professionals took over. There was little we could do really, but I kept Joe's Mum Company till late in the afternoon.

"You'd better be getting home to your husband dear," she told me at last, so making sure she would be OK, I made my way out of the hospital wondering what reception I would get at home.

I'd make it up to Dave that night, a special dinner and give him a night to remember. I felt so elated at Joe's good fortune just when it seemed too late, that I found myself looking forward to telling Dave, and telling him how sorry I was, for not seeing his side.

I knew, just knew, that everything was going to be fine. Joe would get better, and him and Dave would become good friends. I giggled aloud as I wondered if they would ever discuss how nice my breasts were, over a beer one day. 

-------------------------------------------------

"Oh ___ Hi, what are you doing here?" I asked in some surprise as I entered my house and discovered Dave's mother there. We got on well, but I hadn't expected her that evening even though she didn't live far away.

"Anne, Oh Anne," she cried out. "Where have you been? We've been trying to contact you all day."

"What's up?" I demanded, as she looked so terrible.

"It's Dave," she told me, unable to hold back her tears. "He's had an accident Anne ____ I'm so sorry, but he's dead."

My life stopped. I couldn't move or talk as I listened to his mother explaining what had happened. 

"It was early this morning," she told me. "On his way to work, just down the road. He missed a bend and crashed into a tree. The police say he must have been doing over a hundred miles an hour, and would have died instantly. At least he wouldn't have suffered."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. The grief I felt had hardly started to take root.

"Why would he have been speeding like that Anne?" his mother asked. "Was he late for work? Why would he have been driving so crazy like that?"

All I could manage was a shake of my head, as I recalled how he had left the house that morning furious at me and what I had told him.

I knew why he had driven like that, and I'd have to live with the consequences for the rest of my life.

The two of us fell into one another's arms, both crying pitifully at our loss.

"There's one other thing Anne," she said at last. "It might help a little."

I nodded for her to continue.

"They found his organ donor's card on him when they got his body out of the wreck," she went on. " They took his body to St. Matilda's hospital this morning, and right now there's some lucky chap being operated on. At least some good might come out of this mess."

'Tear my heart out' he'd said to me. 'Tear my heart out'

Oh my God, he'd never know that I hadn't gone through with it. 

How could I ever face Joe again, knowing why he was still alive, when Dave no longer was?

How could I live with myself?

-------------------------------------------

Well, there you are.

No idea what happened to Anne and Joe.

Maybe they got together, maybe not.

Maybe she became a nun and Joe didn't make it.

Who knows?



No Way Honey __ Ellie



Hi again

Last story was too long by all accounts, though some enjoyed it. Those that understood it I guess. Thought I'd pop this short one in before I go off on holiday. Hope I've managed a half way house with the hang 'em and dump them brigade.

I enjoyed writing this one, so maybe I'll make a little series of similar stories.

Any bright ideas?

Sorry, no explicit sex at all.



"Wow, just look at that."

Oh bloody hell what was my wife looking at now?

It would be one of those bloody magazines. 'OK Magazine' or 'Today', they were the ones she preferred, anything that filled her tiny head with images of minor celebrities, be they singers or footballers or just hangers on.

Wasn't fair to say she had a tiny head, as she was really quite intelligent, but of late her life just seemed dominated by her obsession with celebrities and the golden lives that some of them led.

What did I see in her? What did I ever see in her?

Stupid question if you looked at her. Ellie was bloody gorgeous by any standards you would wish to set. Twenty-five, a good bit younger than me, five foot four, slender with a model like figure, and I mean the sort that modeled swim suits and lingerie, not the skinny ones that looked under fed. Long lustrous brown hair, big dark eyes, and legs that just seemed to go on for ever.

And she was bright really, not super intelligent, but much brighter than most, with a degree in business studies, and a good job in the city that bought home a fair wage. 

I blamed her friend Shelly.

Shelly was as big and busty as Ellie was slender, but they'd been friends since university so she actually pre-dated me. 

Difficult to ease someone like that out of your wife's life, even though you thought her a bad influence on her. It was Shelly who had led her along this line, working for some PR agency which bought her into regular contact with these minor celebs. 

Unfortunately Shelly had invited Ellie to a few parties and things where these precocious, fatuous, people who lived in an unreal world existed.

It had bowled her over poor girl, and though I knew she would grow out of it eventually, I was beginning to wonder how long it would take.

We'd been married nearly three years and of course we loved one another dearly, just this obsession with celebrities being a constant irritant.

"God, just look at him."

I looked up at her, and didn't really want to look at 'him', but made the effort to please her, and asked her who she was talking about.

"Ashley Collins of course," she replied, adding, "The footballer, you must know who I mean."

I did.

I'm more of a rugby man myself, but it would be difficult in the Uk not to know the names of any number of premiere league foorballers from the amount of press they received, and Ashley Collins was one of the stars, an England international. 

He was also one of the celebs that featured just a little too often in my wife's imagination, and I wondered how often when we were making love together, it was him in her thoughts rather than me. 

Then again I had my fantasy women as well, and old Ashley might have been surprised at quite who he had ended up with in our marital bed without either of them having any idea whatsoeverthat they were there. 

I could live with it ______ I loved her and she'd get over it eventually.

-------------------------------------------------

"Bill," she started one evening, after we'd finished dinner. 

I waited for her to continue, but waited in vain. She was after something that much I knew, as this was her way of making sure she had my attention. I did tell you she was a clever woman, didn't I?

"Bill," followed by another long delay. OK, it had worked, and I was actually interested in what she had to say. 

"Bill," she continues at last. "You weren't planning anything for us for next Friday evening, were you?"

I wasn't, and if I had she would have known, as Ellie was the one who organized our social calandre.

Silence ______ she didn't follow it up. Try as one may, you cannot just dismiss a question like that. She was up to something, and knew I'd want to know, but was playing me along ______ What a tease.

"Well?" I asked at last, reluctantly giving in to her ploy.

"Nothing Bill," Ellie responded off handedly. "Nothing important."

Another ten minutes of silence, while she studied her damn magazines again, and I pretended to read the newspaper. I was near to breaking but held on.

"Bill," she said again.

"For Christ's sake Ellie, what do you want?" I demanded. "Just tell me."

Ellie looked up at me and smiled. Not just any ordinary smile, but one of those when she knows she's got me just where she wants me.

"Shelly's got some invitations to some event next Friday," she admitted at last. "Could be really exciting."

"What sort of event," I asked, my interest waning already.

"Some awards ceremony up town," Ellie gushed, obviously very keen to go.

"I really don't like things like that," I reminded her. "But if you want to go so much, then we'll go."

"Ellie bit her lower lip, a habit of hers when under pressure, and stared at me for a few moments before continuing.

"Actually Bill, you weren't invited," she informed me at last. "Invitations are like gold dust, and she's only got one spare."

I looked at my wife and got the picture.

'EYE CANDY'

Both her and Shelly were both beautiful girls, and not for the first time she'd been invited to these things for her looks rather than her brain, or who she was. I trusted her however, and wasn't at all worried. Told her she could go, and promptly dismissed the event from my mind.

I knew I had pleased her, and would look forward to my reward a little later in bed.

I wasn't disappointed! My wife really knows how to please me when she can get her head out of those bloody magazines.

-----------------------------------------------

The evening of the event arrived, and I looked forward to spending the time in front of the TV. I didn't do that too often, but there was a program on ocean sailing that I particularly wanted to watch, and in fairness to Ellie it would have bored her to tears.

"Wow!"

This time it was my turn to utter the comment as Ellie came down the stairs ready to go out for the evening.

She looked gorgeous, and I felt my cock twitch just looking at her.

"Have I seen that dress before?" I enquired.

"Oh you must have done," she responded, smiling at my positive reaction. "I've had it a few weeks. I showed it to you when I bought it."

Maybe she had, but letting me peep at a new dress in a bag, was hardly the same thing as wearing it out for the first time when I wasn't with her.

It was somewhat revealing!

Not too far over the top, but certainly not the sort of thing that she would wear down the pub.

Christ she looked gorgeous! She was going out without me, dressed like that and I was jealous. 

Unreasonable? ___ Yes. 

Unfair? ____ Yes. 

Was I jealous of who she would be with?_______ Abso-bloody-lutely.

Her little red dress had not much back to it, and was undone a few buttons at the front, just enough to show off a little more breasts and bra than I was entirely happy with. I suggested she did up two more buttons, but we compromised on one. The skirt stopped a good three or four inches above her knee. Too short for my liking when she was going out on her own, though there was little I could do about that.

"See you later," Ellie called as the door bell rang. "Don't wait up honey."

"What time will you be home Ellie," I demanded as she traipsed out to join Shelly, seemingly having dismissed me for the evening.

"Oh I don't know," she replied nonchalantly. " Eleven maybe ______ No probably midnight. I'm not really sure. Don't wait up."

No problem really.

It left me free to watch my program on TV, and I wasn't bothered.

Like hell I wasn't.

Shit, she looked so gorgeous in that little red dress.

I wondered who else would think the same as I did.

Who else that would be at that bloody event would think the same as I did.

Shit!

Damn and blast that bloody Shelly. If it wasn't for her, then my Ellie would be there by my side tonight.

Get a grip man I said to myself. She's just going out for the night with her pal. An opportunity to live out one of her fantasies.

Then I thought of my fantasies. Bloody hell, I really, really didn't want to go there.

It would be Ok. I told myself over and over that it would be OK.

The program on ocean racing started, and within moments I was lost in the intrigues of international sailing.

Strange isn't it?

One moment I'm worrying about my wife being seduced by international celebrities, and the next moment I am lost in a flurry of luffing and tacking.

No problem. I'd been worrying about nothing.

---------------------------------------------------------

The program finished and I picked up a magazine on sailing. I nearly laughed at my duplicity, as it dawned on me how much time I spent reading my magazines on sailing while she read Ok or Today or whatever.

OK, we had our differences, but surely that is what made a stable relationship.

I flipped the page, and there it was. The boat I dreamt of, even though I knew I never would have it.

We were the same really, Ellie and I, both had our unattainable dreams, but would be happy with each other for years to come. I continued to read.

'And here comes Ashley Collins ______"

I'd left the TV on, but was lost in my magazine, only that name breaking into my concentration.

Ashley Collins _____ Who the hell was he??

Oh yes ____ It came back to me, as I remembered he was a top footballer. The one Ellie had mentioned earlier.

The one she had talked about so much over the last year or more.

Good looking bastard _____ I had to admit it as my attention was drawn from my magazine to the TV screen. 

Young, fit, tall, muscular, black. 

What woman wouldn't lust after him, especially since he was famous and all. 

I chuckled to myself. Sorry Ellie but you and ten thousand other women. Gorgeous you may be, but really let's get serious.

"And what do you think of the award you have been given this evening?" asked the lovely young lady who was hosting the program.

"I feel truly honored," answered the footballer, surprising me with his sincerity. "Footballers don't always get a good press, so this award is a bit special."

Bloody hell ____ an intelligent footballer. I didn't think it existed, which just shows what a prick I was at the time.

"What are you going to do for the rest of the evening then Ashley?" Asked the commentator, displaying less common sense than the man had himself.

"Well me and a special friend are going off to enjoy ourselves," he answered, cuddling the pretty girl that he had his arm around, squeezing her tight as he smiled down at her.

Lucky bastard, I thought as I watched him on the screen. A guy like that could probably pull almost any woman he fancied. 

Like the doll he had in his arms.

Like the stunner who was gazing lovingly back up at him

Like the beautiful girl in the little red dress that................

Oh no!

Oh fuck!

Oh Christ!

I don't believe it. It can't be true.

My insides turned to stone and I stopped breathing as the camera panned back to include Ashley's girl ____ my wife Ellie.

She'd hitched her dress up, till the hem must have just been skimming her panties, and the button she'd done up for me was now undone, and a few more as well, the swell of both breasts quite clearly exposed through the gap which dipped down to near her navel.

Where the fuck had her bra gone? She was close to flashing her tits off.

"And who's the lucky girl then Ashley," asked the commentator lightly.

"Oh I think it's me who's the lucky guy," answered the footballer, cleverly avoiding the question, the answer to which he may not have even known, pulling her even closer to him as he bent down and kissed her lightly on the lips.

The camera panned back in again as their lips met, albeit briefly, catching quite clearly the top of her dress as it gaped open, quite clearly exposing her bare breast and her hard nipple as he crushed her against himself.

DAMMIT!

I am quite simply not one of those guys who get a kick out of some other chap making out with my wife.

I was furious ____ bloody furious!

I threw down my book, and stormed over to the TV, gripping my fists tightly together as the camera dwelled on Ellie's bare breast. 

I knew it. I knew what this would mean.

The million dollar shot that the media yearned for, dreamt of, and I knew that by tomorrow that shot of my wife's breast would be spread all over the daily tabloids.

Dammit! Bugger it! Bloody stupid woman!

The neighbors, our friends, my work mates would all know.

How fucking embarrassing! How could she put us in this position?

I fought to control my emotions as I watched bloody Ashley walk my wife to a huge black limousine and help her in, his hand lingering far too long on her shapely bottom as he helped her get in.



The program passed onto another subject, but I sat there staring at the screen, oblivious to whatever it was that had replaced the story on the awards thing that had just been on.

I zapped it!

Didn't want to watch it.

Wished I hadn't seen it.

Hated it. Detested it. Never wanted to watch the television again.

Silence.

Thoughts.

Worries, disbeliefs, fantasies, imagination ______ I hated the world and wanted to get off.

Christ almighty help me _____ I didn't know what to do, or what to think.

I felt tears welling up inside me, as my insides knotted up.

Was I being stupid _____ Probably, but who wouldn't be in my situation.

Think about it ______ Just think about it ______ what should I do?

Ring her ____ yes ring Ellie. Demand that she comes home straight away.

Her mobile sounded , and rang for a few moments, till it announced that she was not available and would I like to leave a message.

"Hi Ellie, It's me Bill," I replied. "Don't do it Ellie. Please don't do it if you love me."

It was all I could think to say.

Waste of time I thought _____ But was it?

--------------------------------------

Eleven soon passed of course, and then midnight threatened. I sat there in our lounge waiting for her, desperate for her to come home, but dreading how she would be. I tried to read, tried to watch TV but all to no avail. I couldn't get the thought of her bare breast exposed to the public out of my mind, and what the hell she might be doing at that moment.

I came close to being sick.

Midnight passed.

OK, so how often had I given her a time, and been half an hour or more late.

One O'clock passed. Ok, so I had occasionally been wildly out with my time when out enjoying myself.

Two O'clock. I was running out of excuses for her.

Three O'clock.

Four O'clock.

Four forty, and I heard a car pull up outside.

I resisted the temptation to look out and see who had bought her home.

I heard the key in the door.

I heard her open and close the front door behind her.

I heard her high heels as she crept along the corridor, then hesitate as she realized that the light to our lounge was still alight.

One minute, two minutes, three minutes passed and then Ellie gingerly opened the door.

"Hi Honey," she said hesitantly. "Still up are you."

"How's Ashley 'fucking' Collins then Ellie," I demanded, abandoning my planned cool, calm reception.

She said nothing, just stood there and stared at me, the colour draining visibly from her face. 

"Had a good evening then have you," I demanded. "Had a fucking good evening maybe, have you my dear wife."

Ellie turned on her heels and fled from the room. I wanted more confrontation, but I wasn't to get it that night. I should have chased after her, but I was frightened of quite what I might do to her the mood I was in.

-------------------------------------------------

The next morning was difficult. 

Quiet.

Calm.

No conversation.

No anything really, till at last Ellie turned to me.

"I'm sorry," she admitted. "I was later than I expected to be."

"Much later Ellie," I replied.

"OK, much later," she admitted. "But Shelly and me went on to a party," she claimed.

"So both of you left the ceremony together did you?" I enquired as casually as I could.

"Yes of course."

"You didn't leave on your own with one of your celebrities friends then?" I asked.

"No ____ Of course not. Well not exactly."

"You didn't leave on your own with Ashley Collins then?" I ventured further.

"No! Of course not Mike. Where did you get that idea from?"

"The television Ellie," I told her. "I watched you get into his bloody car, and I watched as he put his arm round your waist, and feel your ass. That was after, with half the nation I watched your bare tit sticking out."

We stared at one another for several moments before I carried on. It was obvious at that point that she had no idea that the TV camera had focused in her bare breast.

"Then I sat here for five bloody, damn hours waiting for you to come home."

Another long silence while I waited her to respond, and she no doubt wondered what on earth she could say.

"Was I really on TV Bill?" She demanded at last, quietly, but I could hear the excitement in her voice.

I couldn't believe it. 

I couldn't understand her.

I was trying to establish whether she'd cheated on me, and she's more interested in whether she'd been on TV.

"So how many times did he fuck you Ellie?" I demanded, ignoring her question, but she just sat there, a half smile on her pretty face.

"You just don't understand do you Mike?" She asked quietly after some time. "You live in a world of your own and have no idea of what really happens."

Oh blimey, Oh dammit where was this conversation going. She was trying to justify her behaviour before we had even established what she had done.

"So explain to me Ellie," I asked her as gently as I could. "Explain to me why I should not be upset that you have flashed your tits off on TV, then publicly gone off with some stud for the night, probably fucked him, and I should just accept it as normal."

Ellie looked up at me. At last she showed some remorse, as she realized quite how upset I was with her. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked straight at me.

"Mike you know how much I love you, but this is just something I have to do. I can't help it honey, I just can't help it, but give me a bit of time, and maybe I'll get over it."

She looked up at me, tears in her eyes, till one rolled slowly down her cheek.

"Ashley is really quite sweet Mike. He really is. You'd really like him if you met him."

"Inviting me to meet your lover Ellie," I demanded roughly. "You really expect me to shake him by the hand and thank him for screwing you."

"How can you be so horrible to me Mike," she cried aloud. "Why do you have to assume that I let him make love to me?"

"So what the bloody hell did you do for four or five hours last night after you left with him?" I screamed at her.

She didn't answer. Wouldn't answer, but just clammed up and refused to speak about it. Short of hitting her or strangling her, there was no way I could get her to talk about her evening. It wasn't because she was ashamed, and if she had fucked this Ashley guy then I figured she should be.

So had she? Or hadn't she?

I had no bloody idea, and if anything not knowing was harder to live with than if she had just admitted it.

-------------------------------------------

The next morning she was up early before me, which wouldn't be the norm on an average Saturday morning. By the time I'd showered and got down for breakfast and whatever else awaited me, she was at the table eating some toast and pouring over the morning paper. 




No Way Honey __ Ellie



She didn't even notice me coming in, and it was obvious that she'd gone out and bought a copy of every paper she could find.

Ellie jumped in surprise as I looked over her shoulder, but then sat back, a huge happy grin spread all over her face.

"Good likeness isn't it Bill," she said enthusiastically, as she held page three up for me to admire.

There right in front of me was a full page picture of Ashley whatever his name was and my wife. 

Her left breast was quite clearly on display, her nipple so clear that it must have been enhanced by some fancy computor technology. In fact I was quite familiar with her nipples, and they'd never been quite that big.

My heart sank as It dawned on me that everyone I knew would be looking at this picture or one like it that very morning.

'Ashley's very breast girl friend' read the banner below the photo.

'Ashley's new girl pops out for the evening with him.' Read another on the table. 

'Can Collins handle his new girl.' Read another.

I didn't know what to say. I was speechless ____ Just didn't know what to say or how to react.

"Fantastic aren't they Bill?" Ellie asked happily, almost on the point of laughing with joy. "Everyone will know it's me Bill. Look ____ a couple of them have even got my name correct."

Was she barmy? Was she completely bleeding crazy?

I'd come down expecting some major confrontation, one that could seriously effect our marriage. And there she sat staring at a photo of herself with her tit hanging out, as happy as Larry.

The phone rang and Ellie was up like a shot, the phone in her hand before I'd even turned round.

"Hi Stacy," she cried aloud into the mouthpiece? "Have you seen it? ______ Oh you have. Aren't they fantastic? ______ What a night, and then to be in the papers like that."

She listened while Stacy must have said something to her, then responded.

"Oh Bill," Ellie answered her friend. "Yes I guess he's alright ____ No of course he doesn't mind." 

She looked round at me, blew me a kiss and continued.

"Well no, we haven't actually talked about it yet, but what an opportunity. I could be famous, so I'm sure he'll understand."

Understand be buggered. I understood all right. I understood that my wife was a stupid cow and that if I didn't get her out of my sight then I'd do something I'd regret.

Ellie never even noticed me leaving as I made my way down to the local pub, leaving her screaming with excitement into the phone at what her new-found fame could mean.

-------------------------------------------------------

It was a mistake ____ A huge mistake.

Going down to the pub I mean.

My so called pals took the piss out of me from the moment I got there, though I should have expected it when I spotted a picture of my misses with her boob hanging out, pinned up behind the bar, the moment I arrived.

I had to lie about the evening, to save myself further embarrassment and humiliation in front of them, and told them all that I'd been there with her. That the photo and the stories were just so much press exaggeration and invention. I even pretended that I'd met Ashley Collins myself, and that we'd both gone back to the party with him afterwards. 

Yes I even damn well told them that I thought Ashley was a nice sort of guy.

How could I do otherwise? 

How could I admit to them that I didn't yet know whether my lovely young wife had been screwed by him the night before, and that she was refusing to even discuss it with me.

Damn her! I couldn't see my marriage surviving the week end. 

When I got back to our apartment I was in a flaming temper, and fully intended to have it out with Ellie. 

Stacy was there with another of her empty headed friends.

"Oh isn't it wonderful Bill," Stacy cried out as I walked in on them. "OK magazine has rung up while you were out, and want to interview Ellie."

"And Ashley Collins called as well," added Jill, the other friend. "He wants Ellie to go to another party with him tonight, and he said we could both go with her."

All three of them lined up and looked at me as if it was the greatest day of their lives.

Perhaps it was?

In which case our marriage diminished even further in importance.

I wondered idly what it would make of Stacy and Jill's marriages if their husbands found out. I'd already made a life changing decision myself.

Holding my temper, I eventually eased her friends out of the door, leaving my wife and I alone.

"You're not going to be difficult about this are you Bill?"

Her words were more of a statement than a question.

I thought about it.

I thought about it hard.

No I wasn't going to be difficult about it, as there was little point any more. But there were a few things I needed to find out. Just to make sure.

"Did he fuck you last night Ellie?" I asked calmly.

"What does it matter?" she replied, a touch of nervousness in her voice. "As long as I love you Bill, what does it matter. Just think of where this could lead ____ I could get on television and be famous."

"It doesn't matter Ellie," I told her." Not really, I just want to know how it's going to be from now on."

Her frown relaxed and she beamed at me joyfully.

"I knew you'd understand Bill. I just knew you would. Don't worry, I'll always love you, and always have time for you no matter what."

She threw her arms around my neck and showered me with kisses. I didn't push her away, and she didn't seem to notice that I didn't respond with any great enthusiasm.

No way honey, no bloody way!

"Well did you Ellie?" I reminded her of my question.

"A bit I suppose," was her rather unsatisfactory reply.

I asked her what that meant, and she admitted that they'd ended up in bed. She didn't go into any great details, but it was obvious that he'd fucked her for two or three hours. 

"Was it good?" I next asked her, though I really don't know why. Just natural to ask a question like that I guess when you find out your wife has committed adultery.

"OK," she replied, though the look on her face as she said it spoke volumes.

What to do now I asked myself. 

Nothing rash, just bide your time and think about it. What's done is done and I couldn't undo it. Decide what you want to do, and what you want out of this situation. Not long to decide the rest of your life.

A few hours later, and I found myself waving them off at the door, Ellie and her two pals, all done up to the nines, bare flesh on show everywhere, and so much leg you'd be hard pressed to measure it..

"You're such a great husband Bill," Stacy told me as she kissed me on the cheek as she left. "Just so understanding, if only there were more men around like you."

Ellie was so excited, she forgot to kiss me goodnight, but at least she did thank me, as she told me not to wait up for her.

I wouldn't, not that night I wouldn't.

--------------------------------------------------

I didn't hear them come in, which wasn't surprising really, as when I got up at eight in the morning, they still hadn't returned.

Good! Thanks to the wonders of internet banking I was able to re-arrange various things without even leaving the house. I'd just finished when the three of them made a noisy entrance, all looking somewhat the worse for wear.

They didn't look nearly so happy as they had when they'd left the night before.

"Bastards," spat out Stacy a look of hate on her face. "Got us tipsy then took advantage like that."

"God I had four of them in the bedroom with me," said Jill, on the point of crying. "They stripped me naked, and then screwed me all night."

"You were lucky Jill," joined in Ellie my wife. "That bugger Ashley got me stripped off and them forced me back out into the lounge. There must have been twelve of them there, I lost count. I could hardly walk properly this morning."

They all whimpered in sympathy with one another, apparently unaware or unconcerned at my presence.

I thought I'd better remind them I was there _____ I coughed, and all three looked round.

"If my husband calls, tell him I spent the night here please Bill," asked Jill.

"No problem Jill," I replied. "I've already spoken to him."

Jill thanked me, but would get a nasty surprise when she discovered later, just what I had told him.

"I'd better be getting back to my hubby," said Stacy. I told him I'd been late, but not this late."

I smiled and agreed with her, wondering how she would feel when she got home and found her husband was no longer there.

Left on our own, I put my own plan into action.

"Ok Ellie," I said to her at last." You've got your fantasy men, so I guess it's OK if I have my fantasy as well."

Ellie's face clouded over. This really wasn't what she expected. 

"Who?" she asked, her face a picture of surprise.

"Giselle," I replied simply, waiting to see her reaction.

"Giselle who?" She demanded, wrinkling her face, just a hint of jealousy showing. "Not Giselle Blondell, the top model. You haven't got a chance Bill."

I simply shrugged my shoulders at her. I had absolutely no idea who Giselle Blondell was, but if that's what she wanted to think, then that was OK with me.

"No chance," she said again, as she went off for a shower. "If you can even get to talk to her I'd be surprised. Besides these celebrities are not worth bothering with."

Strange _____ That was the last time I ever saw her. 

----------------------------------------

I left her a note to say I'd gone down the shops, but by midday I was at the airport, and within the hour I was taking off on my way to La Rochelle in South West France. I wondered at what point Ellie would realize that I wasn't coming back from the shops.

By mid after noon I was walking down to the port, and then I spotted her waiting there for me ____ Giselle.

Bloody hell she was beautiful as she lay there waiting for me, just lying there soaking up the sun.

Fourteen years old, and she was the most beautiful, stunning sight I had seen in years. I could hardly believe that she would shortly be mine, just mine.

For me it was a dream come true, and without Ellie's infidelity I would have never had the nerve to go through with it.

I just stood there staring at her as she lay there ______ Beautiful, just beautiful.

There were a few formalities to sort out, but before the end of the day I'd made all the arrangements, and looked forward to spending my first night with Giselle.

I wasn't disappointed, and she fulfilled all my expectations. Giselle was one of the most beautiful forty two foot blue water ketches that I could have imagined. 

By the next lunch time I'd recruited a deck hand, and was off on the high seas to start the rest of my life, to follow my dream.

-----------------------------------------

Bermuda was beautiful, and it was wonderful to be just sitting there in the sun. I'd never contacted Ellie, and though I knew she had tried to trace me, she had never caught up with me. By the time she found were I was, I'd moved on to somewhere else. I'd cleared out the bank accounts to buy Giselle, but had at least paid up the rent on the apartment till the end of that month.

Then I looked along the deck and couldn't help smiling, knowing I'd done the right thing.

She was twenty six years old now, and every bit as beautiful as the first moment I'd spotted her. 

No, it wasn't twelve years later, sorry if that confused you. 

I was talking about Sally, my stunning blonde deck hand, who over the last eighteen months had become my partner, my girl friend and my lover. We'd just dropped off our latest charter clients, and on cue she had stripped off naked till we reached the next port.

She always did that.

I liked that in a girl!

Hope you liked it.

I'm the only one who knows what happened to Ellie, but I'm not going to tell you. Perhaps you can guess?



No Way Honey --- Heather



Little loving wives story.

Sorry no real sex, just a short interlude in a couples life together.

-----------------

Heather and I were an unexceptional couple to anyone else, but to ourselves we always thought that we had something special. 

We'd first met when we were in our early twenties at a friend's party, but at first it seemed nothing special at all. My pal Mike had first tried to chat Heather up, but after half an hour of trying every line he knew was getting absolutely nowhere. 

"Jack," he called to me, signalling me to come over. "Come and meet Heather Jack. She's a really interesting girl."

Trouble was once I'd got over there and said hello, Mike smiled at us both and said, "Right then. I'll leave you two alone to get to know one another."

With that he was off, scouting around for a more amenable young lady to try to pick up, having blatantly dumped Heather and left her with me.

Now in fairness, it could have been worse.

Mike only ever chatted up pretty girls and Heather was no exception. About five foot three, with a nice slender build, and a pleasant hint of nice breasts trying to hide under her sweater. She had trousers on, so I couldn't see her legs, but whatever, they were certainly on the long side. 

But it was her face, her brown eyes and her long chestnut hair that caught one's attention. I'm not sure where the dividing line between pretty and beautiful lies, and I suppose it is, as they say, in the eyes of the beholder. 

Let's just say I found Heather pretty beautiful, and leave it at that.

"I think I've just been dumped," she said to me, but with a smile on her face.

"Sorry Heather," I replied hesitantly. "Mike is a bit ... well a bit ..."

"It's Ok Jack," she butted in, saving me any embarrassment. "He was a bit too full of himself was Mike. He wasn't getting anywhere and he knew it."

"Yes, but even so ...." I started again, still not sure what to say.

"Shhhh!" Heather interrupted me with again, holding her finger up to her mouth. "Let's show him how much I care."

With that she took my hand and virtually dragged me into the middle of the room to join the crowd who were dancing. It was fortunately a slow dance, as I was no great shakes myself at fancy moves. I did however know how to hold a pretty woman close to me, and a little to my surprise Heather willingly moulded her tight slim body very close up to mine. 

My abiding memory of that first dance was just how incredibly nice her firm breasts felt squashed up against my chest. It's something I'll never forget.

We had a couple of dances, during which time Heather made sure that we passed close to Mike, no doubt trying to piss him off at my success after he had failed. It certainly did to some extent, and he made silly faces at me a couple of times, at least one of which she could hardly have missed.

"Thank you Jack," Heather whispered to me after the second dance finished, and a faster number started up. "That was nice and you're very sweet."

"A pleasure," I answered grinning at her. "Maybe we could ....."

"Shhh!" She interrupted yet again, her finger up to her lips. "Thank's for helping a maiden in distress, but I'd better be going now."

Heather smiled that lovely smile at me, uncurled herself from my arms and disappeared off to the hallway, and apparently out of my life.

Five minutes later found Mike and me jostling one another good naturedly the way guys do, him claiming I'd got no further than he had, and me claiming quite the opposite.

I took another girl home that night from the party, a redhead with big boobs. At least I think she was, but maybe the redhead was another night. Either way, she really didn't register with me the way the lovely Heather had. 

------------------

Months passed, and Mike found the girl of his dreams, a pretty, voluptuous blonde called Karen. Before I knew it they were engaged and had even set the date for the wedding.

And what a wedding it was!

Of course I was best man, and it being my first time, my mind was in a whirl as the time for my speech approached. It was traditional that you had to embarrass the groom, but not go over the top. As it happened I had sufficient material from our seven years as best friends without having to reveal anything that happened on his stag night a couple of nights before.

It went down well, and I relaxed, started circulating around the other guests and for the first time went over to talk to the bridesmaids.

"Hi Mary -- hi Jane," I greeted the two that I knew well, having been to school with one of them, and for a short while the year previously dated the other.

"Ah Jack," replied Jane straight away. "Loved your speech by the way --- you had Mike squirming there a few times."

We all laughed, and I happily drank in the adulation of three such pretty girls and being the centre of attention.

"By the way Jack," Mary started, indicating the third bridesmaid who I had hardly seen till then. "This is an old friend of Karen's from university; her name's ...."

""We've already met haven't we Jack," butted in the third girl to my surprise.

Yes, it was the interrupter specialist ---- Heather!

-------------------

As you can probably guess, Heather and I got it together that evening, and she explained that the last time we'd met, she had been engaged to some chap in the army. It hadn't survived her finding out about a couple of flings he'd had on the side, and by then she was free and single. 

Not for long though.

I didn't actually get her into bed that first night, but we did get into some heavy petting. The second date she gave me the most fantastic blowjob that I'd ever had in my life, and on the third we made it all the way.

Mike was my best man, returning the favour by embarrassing me at our wedding with tales of my near conquests when we'd been out together as single guys. Better that however than the ones when I had succeeded, but the funniest was his weird and completely incorrect explanation of how he had first chatted up my new wife, and how I'd tried to butt in, but got nowhere. It all ended in tears of laughter, and Heather and I set off on our married life together. 

-------------------------

Several years passed and we both progressed in our jobs, me in computers and Heather in insurance. We'd decided to put off having children for the first few years, but they were definitely planned on at some time in the future.

We were incredibly happy together, our differences seeming to mesh in with one another. 

Heather was no great cook, whereas I loved it. I constantly left a mess everywhere I went, and Heather took pleasure in cleaning and tidying, always keeping our house beautifully clean and tidy. I loved my football, having been a life long fan of the mighty Arsenal, and Heather loved tennis. In this respect we both took pleasure in each other's interests.

Then there was sex --- making love that is.

There was little, if any diversion there.

From the off we seemed to be so suited to one another, that it was hard to believe. If I wanted to try something then Heather never refused me, and visa versa. We either both loved it and added it to our repertoire, or both agreed that it wasn't for us. We simply never seemed to disagree, even to never doing anal, which neither of us even fancied trying, though there wasn't much else that we didn't at least have one go at.

When I say that of course, I didn't mean anything that involved anyone else in our sex life, as we were all that either of us needed. 

We did however play around with fantasy situations as most couples do, I suppose, pretending to have a third person in bed with us, or that Heather was anyone from our pretty next door neighbour to Halle Berry (Yes I know, but come on ---- in the dark, who would know the difference? And I always really fancied Halle Berry)

Or I'd be --- well anyone she wanted to be, whether it was some chap she'd seen in the supermarket, or Pierce Brosnan. OK, so both of us had a thing about James Bond and his women, and we'd seen all the films.

Heather had been sent up to bed before me one night and was planning to be Halle for me, when to her surprise I walked in my dinner suit, James Bond to the tee. She really enjoyed it and giggled throughout, promising the next morning, to give me an even bigger surprise one day.

Anyway, all innocent fun and games, and that is exactly what it stayed. Heather was a great tease, and was always playing little pranks on me, but we trusted one another completely, and I don't think either of us ever had so much as a tinge of jealousy about the other. (Well ---- Pierce Brosnan was a little difficult at times, as she really got carried away sometimes when I was him.)

-----------------------

Soon after Heather's thirtieth birthday, a mark that I had passed some eighteen months previously, she was invited to a seminar by her company in Paris. The Insurance company that she worked for was an international outfit, and had branches all over the place. Heather went off on these 'jaunts' as I liked to call them to her mild annoyance, every couple of years or so. 

'Networking' ---- that was the word she used to describe what went on there, whereas the only networking I ever got to do, was linking computers together.

I didn't really begrudge her going at all, as I knew she always had a good time, and usually came back missing me so much, that she would nigh on kill me in bed.

"Behave yourself sweetheart," I told her as I kissed her goodbye just before she got into her car to go off for the three-day event. "But have a good time."

"Can't I just settle for having a good time?" Heather demanded in her little girly voice, fluttering her eyelashes at me.

"Just enjoy yourself honey," I replied with a smile. "But not too much."

We kissed, and she was gone.

That evening I had a quick call from Heather, just to let me know that she had arrived safely, and that the hotel was really nice. She'd met a few of the others at the meeting already, and they were all eating together in the restaurant later on, where they were due to meet some of the big bosses from other parts of the world.

My wife had even called me at the right time, knowing that I'd want to be in front of the TV half an hour later, watching Arsenal, hopefully, beat Atletico Madrid in the European Champions league. 

I told you how switched on we were to one another's needs didn't I.

Well, of course Arsenal won again, and I went to bed happy as Larry. The next morning I went to work, came home at my normal time and made myself a simple meal.

Dring, dring ---- dring, dring ---- dring, dring, bought me out of my daydream, and when I picked up the phone I automatically grinned.

"Hello lover boy," my wife greeted me," How's everything with you?"

"Fine," I answered her. Missing you already, but other wise OK ----- How are you?"

"Missing you Jack," she responded, and we chatted away happily about our days for a short while, before she blew me a kiss over the phone and rang off.

I was just settling down again when the phone rang again.

"Hello," I answered not knowing who it would be.

"It's me again Jack," came Heathers sweet voice. "There's something I forgot to tell you."

I asked what it was, and she hesitated. It was just a moment, but I couldn't miss it.

"This is going to seem strange Jack," she went on. "But one of the guys here, looks just like Pierce Brosnan."

I laughed. Well what else would I do in a situation like that? So some guy looked like a famous star that she fancied --- so what? Nothing was going to come of it.

"Don't laugh Jack," Heather went on. "His name's Ted, and he's one of the big bosses from Canada. A really big boss, and it appears that he owns a fair chunk of the company."

"So what are you going to do Heather," I joked. "Go to bed with him or something?"

She didn't answer as quickly as I had expected, but when she did, it was at least the right answer.

"No stupid, of course I'm not," she retorted.

"So I've got nothing to worry about then have I?" I laughed.

"No of course not --- well ---- not really."

Hang on!

There was that hesitation again.

What did that mean?

"Is there something you want to tell me Heather," I asked tentatively, my heart just beginning to pick up it's pace.

"Of course not Jack --- well that is ----- well nothing of any consequence."

In a slightly more sombre voice, I asked her exactly what she meant by that.

"Well he sort of singled me out last night Jack. Didn't exactly hit on me really, but he did flirt quite a bit."

"What do you mean by flirt Heather?" I demanded to know.

"Oh nothing serious. You know, just told me how pretty I was, and how lovely I looked in my dress."

"Which dress was that?" I questioned her, not knowing how to take what she was telling me.

"The little black one Jack. I thought I'd make in impression on the first night."

Oh bloody hell!

The little black dress ---- it had to be that one didn't it? 

I didn't even know that Heather had packed that particular dress for that trip, but I could now understand why some big shot might want to flirt with her. 

It was a cute sort of dress. Well sort of, except that there wasn't really very much of it to be cute. Mid thigh, slashed low at the front, and not a lot at the back.

She looked fabulous in it --- bloody gorgeous.

She had the legs and the boobs to suit it you see, and the dress was just designed for her tiny waist and flat tummy.

"And that was all there was to it then Heather?" I asked, my mouth already beginning to feel dry.

"Of course Jack ----- well I flirted back, but nothing serious."

"And that was it?" I again sought confirmation with just a touch of apprehension.

"Of course that was it ---- well ---- he did ask me to dance with him several times, but I made an excuse each time."

"And you went back to your room on your own I trust," I carried on more confidently, immediately wishing I hadn't said that, as if I didn't trust her.

"Of course I did Jack --- what do you take me for?"

"Sorry," I replied. "But you were getting me worried there for a bit."

Heather laughed aloud, and teased me by asking what I was worried about. I told her nothing really, but reminded her of how many times she had made love to Pierce Brosnan in our bed, and that a look alike might imitate him better than I could. 

We both laughed, and said our goodnights, and I relented and agreed that it would be Ok if she did dance with Ted 'Brosnan' if he asked again.

That night in bed I day dreamed of my Heather making love to this guy, and secure in the knowledge that it was never going to happen, got, well shall we say, a little carried away, reliving the fantasies that we had experienced together.

---------------------

Nothing of interest to report on my next day, so by early evening I was playing around with my computor, waiting for Heather's call.

When she did, she was gushing with enthusiasm about how the seminar was going, people she'd met, and things that she'd learnt.

"So how's Ted?" I asked when the conversation died down.

"I thought you were going to ask that," she replied.

"So did he flirt with you again?" I asked, my tummy tightening a little as I waited for her answer.

"Of course he did Jack."

"And did you dance with him then?" I couldn't hold back from querying.

"You said I could Jack."

There was a silence that stretched out embarrassingly long as I waited for her to elaborate.

"How many times then Heather?" I didn't want to ask, but I had to ---- I had to know.

"Not sure Jack. Most of the evening I suppose ---- he's a really good dancer."

I didn't know what to say next. I trusted Heather completely, but this situation was new to both of us, and I was having difficulty handling it. Besides, my treacherous cock was beginning to react at the thought of it.

"You still there Jack," Heather said at last.

"Yes ---- yes of course I am. Just a bit worried about asking my next question that's all."

Heather giggled.

"You're jealous aren't you Jack?"

"Not exactly jealous Heather, more sort of ....."

Heather did her usual trick of butting in.

"A bit turned on then maybe Jack? Thinking of me dancing up close to another man, wondering where his hands might be wandering?"

How the hell did she know that?

Bloody hell ---- No way could I admit that to her.

"Not turned on Heather. Just sort of ..."

"Wondering what I'm up to?" She interrupted me again.

"I guess so," I replied.

"Don't worry Jack. I won't deny that I got just the teeniest bit horny dancing with him, but certainly I slept on my own last night." 

"That's OK then." My relief must have been pretty transparent.

"I didn't let him into my room Jack," she explained in all innocence. "He wanted to, but I wouldn't let him come in."

It took a few seconds for that to sink in, and when it did I felt a lump forming in my stomach.

"So he took you back to your room then did he?"

"Yes Jack, he did. But I didn't let him in."

"And you didn't kiss him goodnight or anything then?"

"Well just one little kiss Jack that was all."

"On the cheek?" I demanded, my voice just beginning to rise.

"Oh come on Jack," Heather came back softly, but determinedly. "I'd been dancing with him all night long --- he'd been holding my body tight up against his and he'd already sort of kissed me a few times on the neck and things by then. So it didn't seem unreasonable to let him have just one little kiss on the lips."

I said nothing for a few moments, trying to control my thoughts. My bloody cock was having a field day, while the rest of me was in complete conflict. I simply didn't trust myself to say anything.

"Oh come on Jack," Heather repeated as if what she was telling me was an everyday sort of thing. "We've been fantasizing about me being with another man for the last couple of years, so this must be doing something to you. It's not as if I'm really going to let him go any further than a quick kiss."

I pointed out that it had all been just fantasy, and reality was something all together different. Heather reminded me that she had kissed other men at Christmas parties under the mistletoe, and I hadn't complained, giggling at me when I suggested that it was hardly the same thing.

"Admit it though Jack," she pushed me. "This must be turning you on at least a bit isn't it."

"I guess so ---- yes a little bit Heather. But no further OK. I don't want you to go any further than you have."

"Ok," she replied. "I promise I won't go any further with Ted than I have already." Then in a rush she went on," Look Jack, it's getting late and I'll miss the others --- Love you sweetheart, but I'll have to go."

"Goodnight darling," I replied, only then realising as I looked at the dead phone in my hand, that I had just effectively given my wife my permission to kiss that bastard again later that night.

Ring her back. 

Yes ring her back straight away.

But I didn't know the number ------- In my haste I hadn't even asked the name of the damn hotel she was in.

Mobile phone ---- yes that's it.

No answer --- out of service ----- Damn it to hell!

The rest of my evening was uncomfortable, and I couldn't get the vision of my lovely wife in the arms of this Ted character out of my mind. 

Dancing up close together, his hands all over her, their lips locked in an embrace as they swapped tongues.

Ahhhh! ---- Hated it the more I thought about it. 

But that wasn't true actually, as the more that I convinced myself that this relationship wasn't going anywhere, then the more that it got me going.

OK, so Heather might kiss some guy goodnight tonight. So what?

I just wished my cock wouldn't keep going hard thinking about it.




No Way Honey --- Heather



As long as that was all!

Oh Christ ---- please let that be all.

----------------------

I fully admit that I was fidgeting the following evening waiting for her call. The day had been bad enough and several people had asked me what was wrong. 

But what do you say?

I'm worried that my wife is making out with some other guy??

No of course you don't. You just do as I did and smile back, and tell them that nothing's wrong at all.

It's not easy!

I snatched at the phone on the first ring, just managing to stop myself from shouting down the receiver.

"Hi honey, that you?"

"Yes Heather it's me sweetheart," I replied.

We never so much as mentioned her meeting, or what she had been up to during the day. All I was worried about was what she had been doing yesterday evening, and the night for that matter as well.

"Been thinking about me honey," Heather asked in what seemed a nervous tone.

"Thinking about you and what you've been up to Heather," I replied, unable to keep the note of concern out of my voice.

"Did you enjoy wondering what I'd been up to darling?" she asked me. The question surprised me, and threw me off balance for a moment, leaving me unable to give a straight answer.

"I take your silence to mean that my playing around turns you on then Jack. Is that right?"

"Playing around Heather?" I shot back. "What the hell do you mean? ----- Playing around?"

My mouth was starting to go dry, and my insides forming a ball. Playing around surely meant more that a quick goodnight kiss?

"Nothing for you to worry about Jack." She answered immediately, full of confidence. "We just went out to a club, had a few drinks, and danced quite a bit --- even a couple of quite fast numbers."

I decided to ignore the inference of the last comment, and pushed her for more information. She was teasing me --- that was obvious, but what lay behind that teasing. I had to know.

"Who did you dance with Heather," I demanded. "Several of the guys or would it be one in particular?"

"Sorry, I don't understand what you mean," she responded.

"What I bloody well mean my wife, is did you dance with other guys from your meeting, or did that damn Brosnan look alike monopolize you?

"Oh I see," came the breathless reply. "Didn't I tell you sweetheart, there were no others last night. Ted took me out on our own for a night on the town."

Oh shit!

Heather couldn't be doing this to me. She was either winding me up, or risking throwing our marriage down the pan.

"Don't be too jealous Jack," she went on when I didn't say anything. "I'm having a really good time honey, and I'll be back tomorrow morning to make it all up to you I promise. I'll be there about eleven thirty."

"But Heather, you didn't mess around with him did you? You didn't do anything you shouldn't have done?"

"Oh don't be upset honey," she replied in a low pleading tone. "I haven't done anything to be ashamed of --- not really ashamed."

"But what have you let him do Heather? Have you let him feel your boobs yet --- has he got your clothes off."

"You're getting carried away Jack," she came straight back. "Sorry but I've got to go."

"Hang on Heather," I cried down the phone. "What did you do last ....... "

I dried up, nothing more to say, as I realised that my wife had put the phone down on me. She was off on another jaunt with her new boyfriend, and Christ knows what they would get up to.

It was only then that it dawned on me, that I still had no way to contact her. I didn't so much know the name of the hotel she was staying in, never mind the number. Her mobile phone was a waste of time as well.

I spent the rest of the evening and into the night imagining what she had done the night before, and how much further she might go with him that night. 

It was a confusion of disgust and sexual stimulation. I didn't want her to do it ---- but if she did --- if she was ---- then ---- well bloody hell I just didn't understand my mind.

I eventually fell asleep on the sofa sometime in the early morning, and dreamt of my loving wife, naked in the arms of another man.

It was a worried, confused night.

--------------------

A cold shower the following morning bought me to my senses. It had been years since I had done that.

I didn't know what I had to look forward to, only that I loved Heather, and I felt ashamed of the emotions that had coursed through my body at the thought of her in bed with that bastard, revelling in sex.

I hoped and prayed that nothing had happened.

Eleven approached and passed.

Eleven twenty, and the phone rang, like a church bell ringing to summon the end of all normality.

"Hi honey," she greeted me. "I had a fantastic time last night ---- didn't sleep much of course. Well hardly at all really, but I'll tell you all about it when I get home."

"When you get home?" I queried desperately, fighting back the urge to scream at her. "You're supposed to be home about now."

"Ah yes Jack," Heather wavered. "Slight change of plan I'm afraid."

Silence reigned

"Still there Jack."

"Yes."

"Look Jack, honey, I know I promised, but things got a bit out of hand last night, and by the time I got back to my own room this morning to pack, I'd already missed my flight.

"What!" I screamed down the phone. "What the fuck do you mean by that Heather? --- What the hell do you mean ----- got back to your own room this morning?"

"Well I didn't mean to go that far honey, but ----- well what can I say? Anyway Ted has invited me back to Canada with him for four or five days."

"No way Heather --- No bloody way." I screamed angrily down the phone at her.

It's as far as I got.

"Look Jack, it's only for a few days after all, and I know I'll be .... Well like I'll be with Ted and things, but when I get back we can sort it all out. Don't forget that I love you Jack, just you and nobody else."

"Four or five days Heather?" I mumbled, falling back into my confused state, totally unable to take in the train that had just hit my whole life.

I should have been shouting and screaming at her, but I was so shocked, that I couldn't muster my thoughts.

"Yes just a few days sweetheart," she answered without any sense of regret. "Ted would like me to have gone for longer, but I've really got to be back at work before next week end."

"Next week end?" I queried pathetically.

"Yes," she replied cheerfully. "I've a project that I have to finish."

"Heather, how can you do this to me," I objected wearily. 

It's all very well thinking how macho you might act if this happened to you, but the reality is that it hits you straight between the eyes when a loved one does something like that to you. The energy simply flows out of you. You feel hopeless, stranded, simply incapable.

"Look I've got to go Jack," Heather told me. "The flight leaves in a couple of hours, and I'll see you next week some time honey. Oh yes ---- I've left a note for you in the drawer by the fireplace. Read it Jack. You must read it straight away ---- It's most important that you read it now."

"A note?" 

"Yes a little letter sweetheart. Read it now and you'll find it explains everything."

Click --- the connection was cut.

I suddenly felt sick.

I sat there for some time with my head in my hands, unable to believe what had happened to my life in the last few days.

She'd ended up in the bastard's bed last night, and now was running off with him --- abandoning me.

I'd never felt such emptiness in my life.

I wasn't going to stand for it --- no way --- our marriage was over, and if I could find that bloody Brosnan look alike, then I'd murder the sod.

Then I started to think about the note she'd left, and the truth of her visit to Paris dawned on me.

The cow ---- the bloody cow. She had all this planned in advance.

She must have known that she would be meeting up with this Ted guy before she even left. Heather, my wonderful trustworthy Heather, the love of my life, had left me a note before she'd even left the house. She must have known that she would be meeting him in Paris, and maybe even that she would be going off to Canada with him.

I didn't seem possible ----- not my Heather.

How long had this been going on behind my back?

How long had she been cheating on me?

I wearily pulled myself up from the armchair, and made my way over to the fireplace, pulling open the drawer to the small desk alongside. It was a desk that I never used myself, and was normally full of junk.

There it was!

The note.

Sat there innocently on top of the pile.

One little note that signalled the end of my life as I knew it.

I stared at it for some moments before my shaking hand reached forward to pick it up.

I slowly, nervously, unfolded it, dreading what I was about to read.

My legs shook with the tension that I was feeling, and my eyes nearly glazed over as I read what was written on the single sheet of paper in front of me.

I couldn't understand it.

It made no sense whatsoever.

On the single sheet of paper, the following single sentence was written in Heather's own handwriting.

WE DO NOT HAVE AN OFFICE IN CANADA

What the hell did that mean?

------------------------------

"Hi Jack, It's really great to be back home."

What?

What the hell!

I spun round in astonishment, and there stood with a grin her face, was Heather.

"Fooled you didn't I jack?" She continued, as my mind span in circles.

"But ..... but what .... How ...." I just didn't understand, and stood there, the note falling from my hand.

------------------------

Having devoured my lovely wife in kisses and nearly cuddled her to death, we eventually settled down, and I demanded that she told me what the hell had been going on.

"The note," I started. "No office in Canada --- what was all that about?"

"Insurance," she replied. "Just in case it all went wrong."

"What went wrong Heather?" I demanded with all the presence that I could muster. "What the bloody hell really happened in Paris?"

"Never went there," she replied. "There was no meeting in Paris."

I stared at her blankly, not knowing what to say.

"Thursday I went in to work like normal, and then that night I went out to the pictures with Wendy who I work with. I slept at her place that night."

I continued to stare at her, my mouth open wide in amazement.

"Then I went into work Friday again, and then went to my parents for a couple of nights. Haven't really spent too much time with them lately so it was overdue."

"Your parents?" I queried limply.

"Yes Jack --- they send you their love and all that. I've just driven back from there this morning."

"The meeting in Paris?" I queried again, trying to make sense of it all.

"Didn't take place," she repeated.

"Ted, the Brosnan look alike?" I demanded.

"Figment of my imagination."

"So the kissing and ---- and things?" I mumbled, my mind hardly able to take in what I was hearing.

"The only person I've kissed since I left here are my Mum and Dad Jack." Heather told me, smiling at me and my confused look.

"But why?" I asked, the warmth flooding back into my life, as I realised it had all been a game.

"To tease you --- get you turned on and worked up a bit," she replied. "To get you back for doing your James Bond thing to me the other week."

-------------------------

We agreed to disagree about whether it had been over the top or not, but I had my Heather back with me, and we spent the rest of the day in bed.

If it had got me turned on, then the charade had done wonders for Heather, and she took me apart in bed, leaving me a shattered wreck.

I spent the rest of the weekend wondering how I could get my revenge, and I suddenly remembered Josie from the accounting department at work. 

Now Josie, was nothing like Halle Berry really, but she was black and a pretty little thing with a lovely trim little body. What's more she was always up for a laugh, and would surely go along with some spoof on Heather.

We could .... Well no, that wouldn't do.

Perhaps we could sort of .... No just too far over the top.

I know --- Josie could ..... maybe not, that would get Heather a bit too jealous.

"Ah .... I could take Josie ..... no, that's just plain silly.

Eventually I came up with a plan. 

A good one I thought.

Me in my Pierce Brosnan dinner jacket, and Josie pretending to be my Halle.

I might even get to steal a kiss from the pretty little coloured girl, and Heather couldn't act jealous.

I'd broach the idea of my plan with Josie on Monday morning.

------------------

I went to bed that night feeling pretty pleased with myself, having worked out the details in my mind.

"Hi lover," greeted Heather as I slipped in beside her. "I didn't tell you about the film I went to see with Wendy the other night did I?"

"No Heather," I whispered back to her, as I curled my arm around her, cupping her firm breast when I found it, and smiling to myself in the dark at the plan I had worked out.

"We went to see the latest James Bond movie," she went on. "Wow, there's a new James Bond lead, and he's called Daniel Craig."

The first warning sounds washed over me.

"You should see Daniel Craig Jack. Wendy and I drooled over him, and Brosnan and his lot are history now."

"Oh." Was all I managed.

"And wait till you see the leading lady Jack, she ......"

I lost track of what she said after that as my plans for my revenge collapsed in a heap.

Oh well ---- I had time ---- back to the drawing board.

I pulled Heather over to me, and stopped her talking by planting a huge kiss on her mouth.

Who cared anyway --- It was just so wonderful to have her back.

Fin.



No Way Honey: Jan



Hi everyone,

I thought that was it for today, but I just had a great idea and wrote this little tale. 

It just flowed out.

Two in one day ___ not bad.

Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Sorry __ No sex at all. Not even a kiss.

* 

The party, if you could call it that, had not long begun.

It was not so much a party as a gathering to say good-by to out next-door neighbors who were moving away up North.

We'd been friends and neighbors for the last four years, and Mick had been promoted and had to move up to Manchester to take up his new appointment. We would all miss him and Mary his wife, but equally were happy for them as the new job promised so much.  

My wife Jan and I had got to know them both really well, especially the two women who had become best friends. I thought Jan was taking their moving away really hard, but these things happen, and life moves on.

We'd invited most of the immediate neighbors, along with Mary's parents who lived nearby, and even Mick's new boss was there, which was pretty good really, as he'd see what a nice guy he was, and how much his old friends thought of him. Any excuse for a party, but it was nice to be able to give a pal a lift in his new career.

Oh, and Jan's parents were there as well. They hardly knew our friends of course, but were staying with us for the week so made up the number. 

Mary was a very attractive woman, and a few of the guys joked that our new neighbor's wife would probably turn out to be a hag. Maybe? We'd find out, as they hadn't sold their house yet, and anyway, I had my lovely wife who's beauty still stunned me from time to time. We'd been married seven years, and were still just as much in love as we had been the day we were married. The sex had moderated just a little, but with two kids to contend with that wasn't a surprise. When we did do it, it was good ____ very good.

I looked over at my wife, and as if by magic she returned my glance. Somehow we had that magic connection that a close marriage can give you. Sometimes we were like one entity, controlled by just one brain. We both smiled. That was all that was needed; it said it all. We were simply a happy, contented, married couple. 

Our oldest Tom came buzzing by, and charged over to his Grandfather, leaping on his lap, almost spilling his drink. Then the youngest, Lilly breezed in as if she owned the place. Sometimes it seemed as if the household revolved around her, and I guess we spoiled her a bit. But she wasn't the sort of child to take advantage, and when she sat on my lap I could have forgiven her anything. Four years old, blonde and pretty. Who could resist her, certainly not me.

"I'll get the nibbles," said my wife, standing up, and making for the kitchen.

I offered to help, but she told me she was OK, grinning all over her face as she watched Lilly cuddle up against me as she disappeared from sight.

"Well," I asked Lilly. "Are you going to miss Auntie Mary?"

"Yes," she replied. "I wish you weren't going Auntie Mary. Please come back and see us."

"Of course I will," responded Mary, almost breaking into tears as she realized quite how much she would miss her best friend's children.

"And will you miss Uncle Mick?" I demanded, playing to the audience, showing off quite how cute my little daughter could be.

"NO!" Said my little daughter to my complete surprise. "I like uncle Mick, but I am glad he is going now."

"Lilly," I reprimanded her angrily. "That is no way to talk to uncle Mick ____ Go and say sorry to him you naughty little girl."

Lilly jumped off my lap and ran over to Mick and gave him a big kiss. "Sorry Uncle Mick," she told him. "I love you really."

Mick kissed her back and threw her playfully up in the air. "And I love you to, pumpkin. I'll miss you terribly."

"And Mummy will miss playing with you every Tuesday uncle Mick," said my innocent little girl.

SILENCE

Nobody said anything.

"Sorry Daddy," said Lilly, turning to me. "I do love Uncle Mick, but I am glad he is going because I don't like him playing with Mummy when you're not here."

"Lilly ___ Mummy made us promise not to tell daddy," Butted in my five year old son.

"Yes Tommy, but now Uncle Mick is going, so we can tell Daddy, can't we?" Lilly replied.

"Where do Mick and Mummy play?" I asked my daughter, my voice betraying the shock that I had received.

"Oh, only in the bedroom Daddy," She answered immediately. "They don't really get in our way at all."

An icy silence descended on the room, as the two children laughed and joked while the adults studiously avoided one another's gaze.

"Bloody hell," sounded off Nick eventually, one of our neighbors.

"Shut up Nick," his wife responded angrily, standing up, grabbing her husband by the arm and dragging him out.

One other couple followed them, but the others never made a move, maybe too stunned to quite take in what had been revealed.

"Well I think I'd better be going," spoke up Mick's new boss. "You'd better give me a ring on Monday Mick,' he said. "I'm not sure where this leaves us."

"Dave," interjected Mick. " Don't think..."

"Don't say a word Mick," butted in his boss. "Just ring me on Monday and we'll see were we go from there."

"You bastard," screamed Mary at Mick at last, finally finding her voice. "How could you ____ with my so called best friend as well ____ you bastards ____ the pair of you."

With that she stood up, and fled from the house, closely followed by Mick, swinging her handbag at him as he tried to pull her back.

"Don't think you're staying in our house tonight you bloody adulterer," were the last words we heard. 

Mary's parents quietly followed them out.

Silence descended again, as our neighbors and friends cautiously glanced at one another, wondering who would be the first one to have the nerve to say something.

Nobody did, and not one of them met my gaze.

*

"Here we are, nibbles for everyone," Jan, my wife announced breezily as she burst happily back into the room. "Come on eat up, before my greedy husband takes all the best bits."

She ground to a halt as she sensed the mood. Put down the two plates of food and looked cautiously round her.

Both her parents avoided her inquisitive look, as did I.

"What's up," Jan demanded. "Where is everyone, where have they gone. Where are Mick and Mary?"

"How could you Jan?" Asked her Mother stiffly. "How could you let us down like this?"

"Hi Mummy," cried Lilly. "It's Ok, Uncle Mick has gone."

She looked at me with fear in her eyes, asking me what had happened, to please help her out.

No way honey ___ No bloody way.

Jan stared around the room, totally confused, her face losing all its colour. 

"What's up," she demanded. "Why is everybody looking at me like that?"

*

Don't ask me what happened afterwards ___ I've no idea.

Whatever you think is fine by me.

If you don't like it, please just don't vote. I am trying my best you know. If you did like it, how about a five. I really need another 'h' to keep me going. 



No Way Is Impossible



No way is impossible

Much has to be said for John Hopkins, the guy I meat last week at a gay club in New York.

He was not as one might assume just doing what he did for kicks, He did it because of a sincere feeling and consideration for all those guys who could not just have normal comforting and gratifying sex.

"It was almost as if people thought that, because they had no legs, no arm or what they had no sexual feelings" John said with feeling as we enjoyed each other mutually.

"Because they do" John continued as I gently caressed his hind with the soothing touch I know he loves. "I read this article about how the Japanese make gadgets to enable the disabled to comfortably have sex, it seem the Japs had the incentive to be among the first to appreciate the needs of these unfortunate folk, in the magazine I saw an advert asking for volunteers who would be prepared to spent maybe a day or so a week, caring for a disabled person intimately. The usual exchanges were made ensuring that we were compatible and there was a likely hood of linking and bonding. I thought about it seriously and because I truly felt I could help, I volunteered and have never been sorry since, I have one or two regulars now I seen about once weekly and it is a pleasure to see their response after a good soothing of 

souls, that's what I call it, Pete"

"Soothing of souls is a great pitch, John - and I do appreciate you telling me."

"That's how it is Pete. doesn't mean I think any the less of you. I still want and need you but I thought it just fair I should fill you in."

"That's my job" I joked and he flushed beautifully. I do so like making it with John, he is so rapturous and makes me feel complete as I feel him begin to massage me so wonderfully.

"I am so happy you take it like this" Pete said, his eyes peering up to mine. I should hate for us to louse up, you mean so much to me, you really do Pete."

"If anything it strengthens my bond with you John, I think you are a great guy, to have the fortitude and patience to serve those guys - I guess you needed to take a course on how to use the aids?"

"Not really, the guys, being in the predicament they were, quickly learned as a matter of urgency, how to best use the gadgets and equipment, things like the electric lift chair , enabling intercourse by way of adjusting the height and position of the chair in order to gain a good connection if you see what I mean, Pete."

"Those Japs are ingenious Huh?

"They are and for me it is beautiful to serve guys like Jo and Bob who have no legs and no arms, but they do have a cock and balls and so are just like us, wanting the occasional relief and when I hear them cum I am feeling there is another very happy guy I have helped and that does feel so good, Mmm just like the way you are making me feel good right now, Pete"

I gently massaged his hind, still inquisitive as to how best he served these guys: "John, tell me how you do it with a guy with no arms or legs, I am curious"

He smiled and said it was no problem. I had and armchair in the lounge with wide arms, he said he would demonstrate and anyway it would be a good thing for us to do maybe.

I made myself comfortable in the armchair and waited in expectation. John still in those really sexy tight boxers horsts looked ravishing as he sort of came backwards to me, placing his knees astride me on each arm of the chair, and thus presenting me with a very voluptuous ass which I had never had the delight to see in that way.

"This is how, Pete and they enjoy me this way, all the time I give them a slow and gentle hand job which I am just able to reach if I bend enough, feeling them suck me everywhere. The feeling, as well as being very sensual is emotional too, knowing that I can give them such pleasure and then, when they are done with the oral, I slip down carefully until I am able to guide their erection into my well prepared hind, and that in itself is an achievement, is to hear them cum and grunt, and then the overwhelming gratitude"

"I am impressed John, you are such a lovely guy and I do love you very much, and I can see the utter enjoyment they cane perceive taking you in those beautifully inspiring and very fuckable position"

"Well shut up for a moment and get on with it and if you want to know, although it is very nice to serve those guys, to feel the sensation of what they do down under, you are still my everything and I want you now to enjoy me."

"I will, I will" I said stretching those gorgeous cheeks apart to reveal that aperture I love to suckle and fuck so much, and he was in the perfect position for me to enjoyed him to the full, his lovely tight ass steeped up the way he was, his head down between my thighs as I smothered my face into him, over his boxers, then tease then aside to taste that beautifully proportioned inviting brown hole I loved to eat so much, and felt his mouth take my cock, feeling the warmth of that and the utter joy of his mouth enjoying me, it was divine and there was me in another world, a place of paradise, it is do lovely having John like this and I could really appreciate just how those disabled guys enjoyed his gorgeous ass this way

After that and when we were ready for fucking, I told him it was a wonderful position that I would love to try again.

"So glad to be of service but I equally enjoy the taste of your cock warming me inside, that is the ultimate,"

"Want it now, John?"

He looked up at me, didn't say a word, but just bent over for me once more but this time on all fours on the carpet and there it was again, beautifully posed and positioned for me, down to the special cushion we use, which he placed beneath his knees allowing his ass to rise up to meet my demanding fresh sucked cock.

It was a case of fresh sucked cock meeting fresh sucked ass and it was so good to feel him take my fuck, moving his hips side to side as he helped my stiff length inside hi, he telling me just how good it was to feel me inside again and how he loved my fuck so very much, that for him there was only one guy who could endure him so much, who could fuck and satisfy him the best, and that was me.



No Way Melissa



A simple little story of simple country folk. Well not quite, but I hope you enjoy it. Not a lot of sex __ sorry.

----------------------------------

"Come on John. This is our chance to nail the bastard."

I looked up at the two immaculately dressed guys sat the other side of my desk and wondered if I should just agree to their idea. Neither of them would I describe as my very best friends, but we'd worked long enough in the city of London together to be trusted colleagues, and we'd done enough deals together to trust one another. 

"I'm not so sure," I replied cautiously. "What you're suggesting is blatant insider trading and that's illegal."

"But what he's doing is bloody immoral John," came back Michael sharply.

"If he gets away with it, then hundreds, no dammit, bloody thousands could suffer," added George, the eldest and normally the most upstanding of the three of us. 

"Do we know who he's targeting this time?" I asked, knowing that they had no more idea than I did, but stalling for time. My question didn't even trigger a response, simply a shrug from the one, and a sigh from the other. I looked out past them through the huge plate glass window, seeing not for the first time the impressive vista from my twenty-second floor penthouse office window. St Paul's, the impressive curved gherkin building, and the Thames itself all there in front of me; a view that would normally make me realise just how fortunate I was. 

But not on that day.

Not at that moment in time.

Does the Minister know?" I demanded.

"Of course he knows John," replied George who had the best connections with the current government. "I dare say the Prime Minister himself knows by now."

But we all knew that they wouldn't be able to help us if things went wrong. That's just they way things worked at this level in the City of London, the financial capitol of the free world.

"I wouldn't want to end up before some court anymore than you two would," I pointed out to them.

"Tell me that when you're down to your last million," retorted Michael. "Because if it's one of us that his bloody hedge fund is going after, then that's where we'll end up anyway."

Difficult times __ difficult times indeed.

We agreed to reflect on our positions over the weekend, but to all take stock of what we had available, and how together we might take him on. If our combined recourses couldn't counter his seemingly unlimited wealth and power, then nobody could. Well maybe there was an American or two, but we were here and they were there. They had enough problems of their own at that moment.

I called my personal assistant Jenny to get David my chauffer to bring the Bentley to the entrance, and offered a lift to my two friends.

George declined, but Michael accepted a lift to the heliport, and all three of us were soon on our way back to our homes for the weekend. 

It wasn't going to be an easy or relaxing weekend, but not even I had any idea just how taxing it would turn out for me.

-------------------

I tried to work on my portable apple-Mac while David threaded the large limousine expertly through the late rush hour traffic. 

Tom Gentry __ Bloody Tom Gentry, the Chief Executive of Conault Hedge Fund, the most voracious, unfeeling bunch of bastards on this God given earth. They'd already bought down a number of otherwise good businesses, and made themselves a fortune in doing so. At least my group of companies produced useful articles, and my two friends from earlier ran honest banks. But Gentry and his damn Conault produced nothing, helped nobody, just gambled huge sums on the stock market and in derivatives making money out of other people's misfortune. I personally rued the day that the futures market had fallen into the hands of vultures like him.

I disliked him from the day that I'd first met him, and my mind took me back to those early days. We were at boarding school together, in the same house even, though he was a year ahead of me, and seldom missed a chance to remind me and my chums of that fact. 

A typical school bully.

I hated him the day I met him after he clipped me round the ear for no reason, and I've hated him ever since.

But for nearly eighteen years now, he'd had reason to hate me back. Since the day that I poached his girl friend Melissa, and especially since the day that I'd married her. Nearly eighteen years of near continuous happiness for me, and though like any couple we'd had our ups and downs, eighteen years when I would change very little.

Melissa, the lovely Melissa, the glamorous top model of the moment when I first saw her on Tom Gentry's arm; recognising her long golden hair, and tall slender figure, from the seemingly hundreds of pictures of her that used to appear in the newspapers and magazines round the world. If she wasn't making the news on the catwalks in Paris, London, New York or where ever, then the paparazzi of the day were busy snapping her at all the top clubs, and in the company of some of the richest and most famous men in the world. And who had she chosen? Well the guy whose arm she was seen on these days was pretty rich now as well, and though it was her that still got the press attention, it was me that was now wealthy ___ very wealthy indeed. I loved it, being seen with a woman who still turned heads where ever she went, and still got the attention of maitre D's in the best restaurants much quicker than I, despite my wealth and connections. 

Eventually we were zipping along the Kentish countryside, and there at last my home. A timber framed manor house, several hundred years old, depending on which part you were looking at, but recently refurbished to the very highest standards. The door opened as I alighted from the Bentley, and Cathy, our housekeeper welcomed me at the door.

"Melissa home yet?" I demanded, and was disappointed to find that she was not. 

"Haven't seen her since Wednesday," remarked a somewhat disapproving house keeper, who considered that a wife like Melissa should always be home when I got back for the week end, having been obliged to spend most of the week at our City centre apartment.

But that's not my wife, who has her own life to think about. She no longer models full time, but still does the occasional photo-shoot, and the odd spot on TV. Having seen it a hundred times or more, I still got a tingle each time I watched her in that TV advert, her back view as she walked through that door, naked except for her fancy high heels. Me and how many thousands of other guys I wondered. She must have just about the most admired and lusted after bare asses in the land, but it's mine, and she's mine, and I was more than happy with that. Yes, she has her life, and her own friends, but I don't begrudge her at all, as long as she behaves herself and was always there for me.

"Disappeared Monday morning soon after you left," she went on. "Only popped back on Wednesday afternoon for a change of clothes."

Oh Dear __ Cathy was in a disapproving mood. Wonder what had got into her?

"She was with that July Cotton," Cathy continued. "That awful woman with the false tits on that TV show."

Ah! __ now I knew why she was in this mood. Cathy didn't approve of the actress July Cotton at all.

"July's not really like her character on TV Cathy," I pointed out, trying not to grin at her simplicity.

"That's because you don't hear them talking," she replied quickly. "If you did then you wouldn't be so calm."

This time I laughed, not unkindly, but amused by her simple outlook on life. "Come on then Cathy," I demanded gently, trying to be serious. "What terrible things have you heard?"

Gossip amongst servants always was a bit exaggerated, and hadn't changed much over the years. Even so what she told me was worrying, no real evidence, but worrying all the same.

"I've been trying to tell you for months," she answered me, a pained look on her face. "But you won't listen. You're always too busy. You think the sun shines out of that woman's arse, but she's running around on you. I'm sure of it, and that July Cotton is part of it.

-----------------------------

Cathy didn't know much of course, just snippets of conversations, and snatches of talk on the telephone. 

But it didn't look good. It didn't look very good at all.

When I said earlier that Melissa and I had experienced our ups and downs, then what I really meant was that I had accused her a few years ago of messing around with other guys. She laughed in my face, telling me not to be silly, and not to believe what I read in the press. She really did live in a different world to me, but we had got over that, and up till now all had been fine.

It didn't look good now though. It really just didn't look good. Not with the other things I had to worry about as well.

--------------------------------

To make matters worse, she didn't come home that night. Not so much as a call, and no response from her mobile when I tried it. I was pretty pissed off I can tell you, and when in the morning George rang me to tell me they'd identified who Conault were targeting it got worse ____ It was me. Not just me personally of course, but the group of companies that I controlled. Conault had information on my investments that they shouldn't have had, and we couldn't figure out how they had discovered so much, though I'd recently sacked a manager I'd caught behaving badly, and we decided it must be him.

"What does the Minister have to say George?" I enquired, but that didn't result in much.

"What does Michael think?" 

"He'll go along with me," George replied.

"And what do you think George?"

"I'll go along with you," he ventured bravely.

I told him I'd ring him on Monday, and thanked him for his support, confident, or nearly so, that together we might defeat Gentry, illegal though our action might be.

--------------------------------

Mellisa didn't come home that evening either, and I was beginning to get really upset. But then around mid morning on the Sunday, her Aston Martin DB9 skidded to a halt in the drive in a shower of gravel.

She elegantly unwound herself from the sleek sports car, then stood and shook out her blonde hair. By God she looked gorgeous, but then she always bloody well did. 

"We need to talk," she told me brusquely, as she swept passed me as if I was the doorman.

Too bloody right we did!

I'd more or less worked out what I was going to say, and she was going to get the rough end of my tongue.

"Where the hell have you been Melissa," I demanded, "You've been gone all week."

"What I do is my own business John," Melissa spat back at me. "You don't own me and you never have."

I wasn't going to stand for that. In my book if we were married, then we both owed a certain responsibility to each other. "Well if you're going back to your old ways Melissa," I threatened her. "We're going to have to rethink our marriage."

She turned and looked at me, that smile that had won over a thousand clients on her beautiful face.

"What marriage?" She asked me sarcastically. "We're finished anyway ___ I'm leaving you for someone else."

Somewhat took the wind out of my sails. 

"One of your stupid actor friends I suppose," I shot at her, more out of spite than reason. If she was leaving me, then that was that. It'd save me the bother of throwing her out. "If you think you are going to get any money out of me, then you've another think coming." When we had been married, she had been famous and relatively rich, and me, though by no means a pauper, not the multi millionaire that I had become. It was her lawyer who had insisted on the marriage contract to prevent me getting my hands on her money, but by then she had gone through most of hers, and was having a pretty good attempt at going through mine. But the contract worked both ways, and I wondered if Melissa knew just how little she would be leaving with.

"I won't need your money John," my soon to be ex wife informed me imperiously. "There's plenty where I'm going, and besides you might soon not have much left."

How the hell did she know that??

Melissa turned away and looked up the drive as another car swept into our driveway, obviously following her, but unable to keep up with the reckless way she drove her Aston.

Oh shit! 

A Buggatti, a black Bugatti Veyron. Nigh on a million pounds worth of super car, and I only knew one person who had one of those.

"Hi John boy," sneered Tom Gentry as he slid from behind the wheel. "Round two to me I think, don't you?"

"How long has this being going on?" I managed to blurt out pathetically.

"On and off it's never stopped," crowed bloody Gentry triumphantly. "She may have married you John, but she never stopped screwing me."

I just stared at him, not knowing what to say.

"Twenty damn years I've planned and waited for this moment," he spat at me, as he followed Melissa up to pack as if it was his own house. "Now you're beaten John. More beaten than you yet know."

----------------------------

I never saw them leaving, as I'd gone myself by then, back to my London Apartment. Later that night Michael and George, my two banking friends, and a couple of other trusted friends met at my club. The Government Minister was there as well, but discretely, not officially of course. 

"Well I now know where he got his information from," I told them. "My loving wife told him everything he needed to know."

"So based on what you have deduced from your wife's betrayal John," the Minister summed up half an hour later. " You can counter Conault's moves without recourse to any inside information."

"I hoped you'd see it that way," I agreed with him, and we all shook hands and retired to the bar.

--------------------

By mid morning the following day shares in my company started plummeting after enormous sums were mysteriously gambled on the futures market that we wouldn't survive the week. But it didn't last long, as two private banks supported my company with funds fortunately put aside, and then two well-known stock pundits told the world there was no problem. The slide hesitated, then slid a yet again when further huge sums of money was gambled against us making it. For several hours it was touch and go, and the phones were red hot as deals and counter deals were struck. At three o'clock in the afternoon, it was announced on the TV that the Government was declaring my company as preferred bidder on a huge contract to supply services to National Health Service. Coincidence maybe ___ then again maybe not. Handy to have friends in high places, especially when what they were doing was so honest.

It didn't matter that the contract was never actually signed. It was just the confidence that it sent out to the market, and the raid on our share price quickly fizzled out. 

Conaults lost a huge fortune, and in a turn of events the market turned against him. They never actually went bust, but Tom Gentry's reputation was ruined, and two months later he was ousted from their board. There were few who mourned his going, and to my knowledge nobody who stepped forward to help him in his time of need.

He hadn't lost everything, but when his Bugatti crashed into a motorway bridge on a long straight stretch of road at a hundred and seventy miles an hour, less than a month later, they did say that he was down to his last million.

Poor sod!

Pity really __ that Bugatti had been a lovely car.

Melissa came crawling back. Well of course she did, but I didn't throw her straight out.

When she called me at my apartment in the city, she was all love and apologies. Maybe she'd checked up with her solicitor what she was likely to get out of our split up.

"Hi honey," she cooed sexily. "I made a terrible mistake, but it wasn't my fault sweetie."

"Oh no?" I queried. "Deserting me for my worst enemy wasn't your fault you say?"

"No honey ___ honestly sweetie-pie, he forced me into it." Melissa claimed.

"What did he do then," I went on. "Tie your hands behind your back with your own panties and force you to have sex with him."

There was a silence on the other end of the line, and I wondered how close my flippant remark might have been to something that may have indeed happened. It could well have been, because she changed her tack.

"Look honey," Melissa carried on at last. "I admit I went to bed with him willingly enough, but I didn't mean it to split us up. I still love you, and you're my one and only true lover."

"Bloody Gentry told me that he'd been fucking you since soon after we got married Melissa," I reminded her.

"He exaggerated a bit," she whined back.

"Oh of course Melissa, we went away on honeymoon for three weeks so you must have waited at least that long."

She changed tack again, in fairness fairly bravely of her, throwing caution to the wind. "For goodness sake John," she spoke out with an air of more confidence. "You know I've never exactly been too faithful to you during our marriage. The circles I've always moved in have a different attitude to casual sex than yours."

This admission was news to me, though in all honesty not exactly a great surprise. I said nothing, and just let her carry on.

"Sex is sex ___ so what. I've fucked guys when I was a teenager because they'd given me work when I first got going, and since then I've done it for the fun. But John I've only ever loved you my sweet. You've always been the only one for me."

She was really very convincing, and besides having been a top model, she'd also done a bit of acting. If it hadn't been for Gentry then ........? Well I hadn't exactly been a saint myself. What was I to do?

On the one hand I think she really did have some feelings for me, though now that Gentry was no more, my wealth could have influenced that.

I guess I still loved her in my way.

She was great in bed __ fantastic in fact, and though she couldn't cook for tuppence that hardly mattered in my position.

She was also extremely beautiful, and that wasn't just my biased opinion. It was only a couple of years since she'd been voted as one of the ten most beautiful women in the world by that stupid celebrity magazine her and her friends read. It had never harmed my business to turn up to some function with Melissa on my arm, and there were few guys around that she couldn't wrap round her finger.

But Gentry ___ even now dead he was still there haunting me as he had done for so long.

"I'll be back down in Kent Friday night," I told her. "Be there and we'll talk about it."

---------------------

I actually got home a bit earlier than normal as I had several things to arrange before Melissa got there. When she turned up in the Aston Martin, and unwound herself sexily from the seat, I could tell that she'd taken extra care with her appearance. The short flimsy dress she wore could not be bought in any high street shop, and the name 'Versace' struck a bell, but I couldn't be sure. One couldn't help but admire her.

"Hi darling," Melissa breathed huskily at me as she kissed me warmly on my cheek.

I took her into the house, and led her through to the salon, where I took her into my arms. Her soft body melted against mine, and I felt firmness of her genuinely natural breasts crush up against my chest. By Golly she felt nice, and I realised quite how much I had missed feeling her body against me since she had gone. Reaching behind her, I unpopped the button at the back of her neck, and released my grip on her sufficiently to let the slip of a dress slide slowly down her body. We kissed tenderly, then I took her hand, and as she carefully stepped out of the dress, I led her gently in the direction of the billiard room next door. 

"Oh John," she murmured sexily. "It's some time since we made use of the billiard table this way."

I pushed open the door, and stood back to let her through.




No Way Melissa



"What on earth .... Who ..... Oh my God," she uttered in surprise as she walked into the room and saw the surprise that I had prepared for her.

"You want me to take you back ___ then there's a price to pay Melissa my dear," I whispered into her delicate ear, urging her further inside the room.

Gathered round the room were a group of good friends. Michael and George of course, and five others who had helped me in my time of need. It was payback time in more than one way. They all drank in Melissa's beauty as she stood there in front of them, in just bra and panties, high heels and the longest pair of dangly earrings that you could imagine. 

The miniscule bra and panties were the very same one's that she had modelled at Victoria Secrets annual fashion show in New York, just a couple of years previously. Without the wings of course, but I'd only known her to wear them once since, and she couldn't have made a better choice. 

One could have heard a pin drop as Melissa stood there working out what was going on, and the guys stared at her, drooling openly at the half dressed vision in front of them.

"I'm this evening's entertainment then," Melissa asked me, looking back over her shoulder at me, more than a hint of a smile on her pretty face.

"Up to you sweetheart," I answered, smiling back at her.

"You said price to pay John?" She murmured taking a cautious step forward. "This is the sort of punishment that I could submit to every day."

With that she left my side and stepped into the middle of the room with that walk that only models seem to do.

"Michael," she whispered aloud to my friend. "Perhaps you would like to get the ball rolling and take off my bra."

Michael needed no second invitation, and stepped up behind her, unclasped the catch, and slid the flimsy garment slowly off her shoulders, his hands brushing fleetingly against Melissa's breasts as he removed it completely.

"Nicely done Michael," said my wife smiling at his cheekyness, looking over at the others.

"What can you manage with my panties George?" By now she was almost panting.

"No George not like that," Melissa scolded George as he reached forward to slide her panties down. "With your teeth George __ please ___ with your teeth."

It could have been funny ___ we could have all laughed, but nobody did. It was one of the most erotic things I have ever watched as George quite expertly, as it turned out, slid first one side, then the other slowly down. 

By then Melissa was completely in control. Some of the most powerful men in the country, and they were eating out of her hand.

"Who's first then?" She demanded, looking around at the grinning faces surrounding her.

"Is that you Normy-baby hiding over there in the corner?" she demanded, looking over at the Government Minister huddling in the corner. He'd been hesitant to attend because of his position, but couldn't resist it when I told him what was on the menu. He visibly blushed, and went to stand up, only to be waved back by Melissa.

'Normy-baby' eh? ___ the otherwise extremely staid Sir Norman St. John, Minister of the crown, and Member of Parliament for Chelsea East would take some time to live this down. 

"And not you either Arthur my sweet," she said to the world renowned newspaper magnate to her left. "You didn't leave me satisfied like you usually do last time, so you can go last."

Well that was news to me as well, and he gave me an embarrassed glance. I guess it didn't make much difference by then anyway.

"You there, what's you name?" She demanded of probably the only man in the room that she didn't know."

"Cedric," he gasped, and grinned like a schoolboy, as she took hold of his tie and dragged him, not unwillingly, to his feet. He was still grinning when Melissa undid his flies, and grinning even more when she pulled out his cock. 

"Not huge," she commented, handling it. "But big enough for the job in hand."

Melissa positioned herself upon the billiard table, opened her legs wide, and the fun began. 

At one point George was thrusting into her gaping pussy like a man possessed, while Michael had his cock in her mouth. She had Arthur and Cedric's cocks in her hands, while Normy-baby was sucking her tits. The others were recovering, but even so she was wearing them out. Fortunately I had asked David my chauffer to pop in and help after an hour or so, knowing that my friends were not all that young any more, and he stepped into the breach admirably.

My Gardener Fred did his bit as well, but disappeared fairly promptly as his wife Cathy, my housekeeper was due back later on. Well someone was going to have to clear up the mess on our billiard table weren't they?

Five hours and thirty-five minutes I timed it, give or take a little. By then all the men were knackered and had had enough, otherwise Melissa would have kept on going.

Damn her! She bloody well enjoyed it the cow.

Never mind, as I didn't keep my word to her, and threw her out on her ass the next day. Cathy took great pleasure in packing her cases for her, and they were ready when she came down for breakfast. As we loaded them into the Bentley, Melissa pleaded with me again to take her back.

" No way honey," I told her. "No bloody way."

She was fuming mad as she reluctantly climbed in to the car behind David, the keys to her Aston carefully stashed away.

"It won't take long to replace you," Melissa spat at me as she drove off. "Drop me off in Mayfair David. I've got friends who will be pleased to see me there."

Maybe they were, and maybe they weren't. But since David had been instructed to drop her off at the local bus stop in the village, it would be many hours and changes of buses in those ridiculously high heels and with those heavy suitcases before she would ever find out. 

I knew it wouldn't take her long to find another sucker to finance her life style, but word of her betrayal and the gangbang filtered out. 

I wonder how?

She never did become an 'A' list person again, and even her advert was eventually taken off the air as she dropped out of her celebrity status.

Never mind though ___ I've still got a copy of it on a DVD. 

----------------------

Sorry for any technical mistakes, as I live a shade or two off of this level myself. Did go out with a quite famous model once though, but it didn't last long enough for her to be unfaithful to me.



No Way Out



I wasn't personally present for this particular story so you won't have to put up with all of the wrestling commentary. This time you'll just get to listen to the story itself. The only thing that you need to really understand as far as the wrestling goes is that me and the guys were busy watching No Way Out. The main event was Shawn Michaels in a Steel Cage vs. the Undertaker in a number one contenders match that the Heart Break Kid would eventually come out of victorious.

Karen however was out with her special boy toy of the moment at their private spot up in the mountains. I never found out exactly where it was that the two of them used to go, it's kind of her private place to sit and think these days when she doesn't want me to find her. Right now however she was happily sitting on the hood of her Jetta with a bottle of Smirnoff in each hand alternating taking sips from the watermelon flavored bottle in her right and the sour apple in her left. She was dressed in a pair of black jeans that clung to her curvy hips and a matching button up shirt that could barely contain her bust. Beneath that she had a plain white undershirt to hide the bit of weight she'd packed on. Her crimson braids were visible on either side of her head escaping from the black beanie she'd stolen from me earlier that night. 

Mark was a few steps away mixing her next drink in a thermos. His normally spiked hair was slicked back to his head in an almost secret agent sort of style. "Trust me, you'll love this girl." He looked up from his work letting the right side of his face pull up in a one sided smile. He was wearing a blue sweater over his work uniform, a white collared shirt and black slacks. "Now when you drink this you should drink it fast. Its good shit but the aftertaste is nasty shit." He smiled thrusting the warm thermos at my girl.

She only hesitated a moment to look at the concoction. Whatever it was it was brown and had wisps of steam rising up off it but it smelled sweet. "What is it?" He shook his head and motioned for her to drink it. Karen lifted the thermos to her lips inhaling the scent again. It was hot chocolate spiked with. .she couldn't quite place the liquor.

"Drink up." He shoved his hands down into his pockets waiting for her to drink up. He almost stopped her when he saw her lovely green eyes staring at him over the blue thermos but instead he let his smile grow just a bit. Karen gripped the thermos with both hands and leaned her head back drinking as quickly as she could. "Don't stop don't stop! Just breathe and finish it!" Mark insisted as she started to lower it from her lips. She gasped in a mouthful of air and then finished the drink.

There was a moment that went by as she felt the warmth invade her insides starting at her belly and then filling her chest and over her face. "What was it?" She finally asked fanning herself with one hand.

"I like to call it Panty Dropper. It's mostly hot chocolate but also a little something I cooked up in chem. class one day. It puts a woman into a hypnotic state." That lopsided grin was struggling to become a full blown smile but instead it remained just a half smile. Karen stared at him in shock and disbelief as the chemical started to act in her system spreading that intoxicating temperature to the tips of her extremities now. "And it usually makes them very skanky." He added. If he'd waited one more second she would have been able to tell him the last part on her own though as she felt her cunt moisten with hot slick juices.

"You bastard." She whispered as her legs started to tremble beneath her. A familiar tingle spread between her thighs as she stared at Mark hungrily eyeing his body. It had been a while since she'd really noticed just how sexy he really was. Right now was undressing him with her eyes imaging his smooth cream colored flesh. In her mind's eyes she was staring at his stomach that always tensed into a six pack just before he came and his hard dick. His hard dick was almost a full shade darker than the rest of his body. 

"I know." He grinned motioning her towards him with a single finger. She didn't even have a choice over what to do. Her legs just carried her to him without any decision of her own. When he motioned downward she just fell to her knees and glared up at him. Part of her was infuriated that he had control over her, that her body was dancing like a puppet on his strings but the rest of her was thrilled at what he would tell her next. 

Karen felt her nipples started to harden and press out against the fabric of her undershirt as soon as Mark started unzipping his pants letting his cock rest on her face. "Open up whore." Karen opened her mouth and leaned forward wrapping her lips around his shaft and slurping at his cock. He didn't have to explain to her to use her tongue to rub along the underside of his shaft as her head bobbed up and down. He just stared down at her and laughed. "I always knew this is what you were best used for. Just another piece of shit whore." He gripped her hair and wrapped it around his fist and started pulling her farther forward onto his nearly seven inch shaft. 

It didn't matter that he was nearly tearing her hair out of her skull or that she could feel her body trying to keep from gagging as he pushed into her throat. It only mattered that he was a man and he was touching her and letting her touch him. She was already shifting her legs back and forth trying vainly to ease the ache between her thighs. "Only thing a man could want you for is this." He spat sprinkling her face with spittle before yanking her forward again stabbing the back of her throat.

Even as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft stroking him off tears started to form in her eyes. She hated what he said but it didn't matter to her either. If he said it had to be true she realized still slurping noisily on his cock. "Stop." He commanded. Karen pulled away from his cock only a thin trail of saliva and pre-cum connecting the purplish head of his cock to her lips. "Get in the car." Mark pointed to the car and Karen turned and got into the car. "Stupid cunt." Mark smiled and got into the driver's seat. 

Mark whipped the little car out of its hiding place between the trees popping the e-brake to turn it completely around and start driving down the street. "Take off your shirt." He commanded rolling the window down as he spoke. He didn't pay her any attention as she unbuttoned her shirt and handed it to him followed by pulling her white undershirt up and over her head revealing her tanned skin. She hadn't bothered with a bra that day so he could already see her pierced nipples hard and surrounded by goose bumps. Lower her belly was just barely hanging over the band of her pants but like always he barely noticed. Mark rolled the window down quickly and tossed her clothing out.

She wanted to scream at him to go back and get her clothing but she couldn't. She didn't have permission to go back and get her clothing or permission to do much of anything but scowl angrily at him. "Don't look at me that way." Her angry scowl instantly faded at his command. "Pants too, and that stupid thong as well." Her eyes widened with fright as she realized what he was going to do, it was even worse because she didn't have any control over her actions. Instead of tell him to fuck off she reached down and untied her shoes and then rolled her jeans down her hips and then pulled off her thong. When Mark held out his hand he didn't need to specify what to do, she just placed her clothing in his hand and watched him fling it out the window. Behind her car she saw her clothing billowing in the wind.

"Where are we going Mark?" Karen finally asked staring out the back of the car as her clothing becoming a distant speck on the highway. She knew that people were staring at her as they drove by; a few of them had honked at her. Of course she didn't cover herself up, she knew better than to do that after Mark had thrown her clothes off.

"Margarita Rocks." He paused slightly but before she could ask another question he hushed her. They pulled up into the parking lot and he climbed out of the car. "Put on your shoes, I didn't bother to throw them out." She looked at him in disbelief while pulling her blue and black sneakers back on and tightening the laces. "Now come on." Karen's water logged eyes finally burst letting tears stream down her face and over her throat.

"Please." She pleaded getting out of the car and falling to her knees curled into a tiny ball. Her face and breasts were buried in her knees as she sobbed looking around the packed parking lot. 

"Shut up, stop crying and follow me." Mark replied walking to the back of the bar. Karen sniffled once more and wiped the tears from her face and then stood up following behind Mark. The warmth of his drink was still flowing steadily through her veins, no sign of slowing yet. 

There was a single man waiting for them at the back door and instantly knew who he was. His name was Jacob, the overweight younger brother of Mark. He'd wanted Karen since the first time he'd laid eyes on her. Always copping a feel on her and sending chills of revolt up Karen's spine. Right now as she felt his greedy little piggish eyes roaming over her naked body sent the same wave of nausea over her. She wanted more than anything to curl up and barf right then but she didn't. Karen just remained in place waiting for the horrible command she knew was coming.

"Karen, come over here and tell him how bad you need to fuck." Mark commanded.

Those words turned her stomach but she walked over to Jacob and looked down at him, he was actually a little bit shorter than her and the white striped t-shirt he was wearing made him look even fatter than he really was. "I don't want to fuck you." She sneered leaning close enough to kiss him.

"I thought you said?" Jacob whispered in shock turning to Mark.

"She is. Kiss him." She lunged forward pressing her lips to his. "Don't stop making him think you want him." One hand traveled down his back and over the rolls of sweaty flesh, the other caressed the side of his face. Most importantly to the fat virgin bastard her tongue was stabbing into her mouth and rolling around with his. This kiss continued as her hands started wander over his flesh trying to get past the revolting urge to gag.

"She'll do anything you tell her."

"Anything?"

"Anything." Mark replied. "I'm gonna go get me a few drinks." He turned around and walked away.

"Finger yourself. I want you all nice and ready for me to fuck." Karen looked at him an angry glare burning in her green eyes as her fingers slipped between her thighs. Just two but she was still soaked from the formula so they slipped in with ease. Jacob could already hear the sloshing noises as she pumped in and out. "On your back, I wanna see." 

It was disgusting enough to be kneeling in that back alley that stank of piss and spilled beer but the idea of laying in that filth was revolting. There still wasn't any choice for her as she rolled onto back her tanned skin instantly sticking to the grimy concrete as she spread her legs and continued pumping two fingers in and out of her slippery cunt. Jacob was smiling down at her as she continued pumping her fingers inside her.

She would never have admitted it but she could feel her orgasm starting to build up inside her. Each pump of her fingers drove a new unique chill up her spine that she wished she could deny. "Slut." Jacob gripped her wrist and pulled her fingers out of her pinning her hands over her head. Karen turned away as he lifted his stomach to unbuckle his pants still lifting his belly up to fish out his cock. The sweaty underside of his belly pressed against hers as he slipped his cock into her.

Karen hardly felt the four inches of flesh the virgin shoved into her. She kept her eyes so tightly shut that her eyes were turning purple. Her stomach clenched each time he palmed her tits with sweaty hands and thrust inside her. "Tell me you like it." Jacob hissed through clenched teeth.

"I like it." Karen sobbed.

"Look at me and make me feel like the best you've ever had." Jacob commanded kissing her throat. She immediately let loose a pleasured squeal and wrapped her legs as far around him as she could manage. She looked like she was straddling a horse, unable to cross her ankles behind him. Karen couldn't reach far enough to claw at his back; instead she had to settle for his shoulders raking up and down. "Oh yes baby yes, do me harder!" She moaned like the girls on the porn Jacob loved.

"Dirty slut!" He shouted as he pushed into her one last time and squirted his juice inside her. Karen shuddered as the fat former virgin rolled of her and got back to his feet. "Wow, that shit really works." He zipped up his pants just as Mark turned the corner.

"You enjoy her?" Mark kept glancing back over his shoulder as he spoke.

"Yeah man." Jacob walked over her. "Stay girl." He muttered before spitting on her face. Karen didn't move at all accepting the command as law before stepping away.

"Well we need to get out of here man, so leave that piece of shit and lets go." Mark grinned. "Where'd you park?"

"Why I though you had Karen's car." 

"You should see it, that's what happens when you drink and drive."

Karen didn't manage to get to a phone until nearly three in the morning when the streets were abandoned enough for her to make it to a pay phone. By the time I got to her she was curled up in what was left of her car. It looked like he'd rolled the black car completely over. The paint was scraped off on one side and the other side was dented in. Most importantly as I wrapped Karen up in a blanket and pulled her clothes onto her I saw her eyes. Her normally green eyes were slate gray, a color I'd only seen once before when a boy had insulted her grandmother. Nothing good ever came of that look. Once you've become the focus of it there is truly no way out.



No Way Out



It was the fifteenth of April in sunny Chicago; Joss had been walking along the sidewalk window shopping like she did every Sunday since she had moved to the city. She had already visited the open air Farmers market where she picked up two pears and an apple. Her dark denim jeans, tall brown boots and breezy sweater was the perfect outfit to wear on this in between spring and summer day. Joss was admiring a scarf in the window that would go quite nicely while she nursed the vanilla bean frap that was nearly emptied, when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Excuse me, "The gentleman said, "I believe you dropped this back at the market, I did not want you to fret." He grinned as he held out the chartreuse scarf that she was just admiring in the window. His salt and pepper hair lay perfectly, and although it was warm enough to go without an overcoat, he was well dressed in a suit and tie. 

"Sir, that can't be mine. It is beautiful but you must be mistaken." Joss smiled back kindly, but had a sense of alarm as she started to walk away. He was charming and handsome of course, she thought, but she also knew she had been admiring that exact scarf for the last month. How strange. 

"How silly of me," The older man called out still extending the scarf toward Joss, "Forgive me, take it anyway?"

Joss paused frozen with a suspicious grin. She was 25, and he must be at least 45, twenty years her senior. Before she could turn around to reply, he was coming up beside her, pulling at the scarf with both hands. 

"Do I know you from somewhere? Maybe the school or the store?" Joss held her arms open as if trying to offer up an explanation that she didn't have. She was referring to the children's art academy where she taught or her parents store in Odem, just outside of the city. 

"No, neither of those, but I do know you Jocelyn." He grinned a wide toothy smile, he was disarmingly charismatic. 

Joss studied him carefully trying to recall a date or time where she had met this beautiful stranger. Perhaps he was a friend of her fathers, which would make even more sense, as he was the only one that still referred to her as Jocelyn. 

"Jocelyn? Only my father calls me that." She smiled letting down her guard a bit.

"I know," The stranger stepped in closer gently wrapping the scarf around her neck while brushing away her long, dark hair. 

"So Jocelyn, I see you have completely finished that coffee, and it is nearly noon. That tells me, you have not had a satisfactory lunch and would be thrilled to accompany me to Naples for some pasta, would that be true?" He held out his arm and took her tote of fruit off of her arm. 

"As long as we walk, Ok? No taxis." Joss insisted. 

"Smart girl." He whispered. That was the first time she noticed his slightly British accent. 

"Now I know that I don't know you, I would have remembered your accent!" She said with a slight giggle as she pulled her arm away abrubtly. 

The man grasped at her fleeting wrist and turned it upside down, placing his thumb firmly near her wrist bone. 

"I never said you knew me," he drew her in closer, held her eyes and whispered again, "But I do know you."

Joss immediately withdrew her hand and jerked away in fear. 

"I do not want to do lunch anymore." She abandoned her tote of fruit that he held and turned to run. It was the middle of the day on a busy street but she never felt so secluded. 

The man cackled loudly enough for her to hear, and called out again, "Jocelyn, dear, I have it on good authority your father is dangerously close to losing his business. You would not want to be the stake that nails the coffin, do you?" The man smiled a twisted, content smile with his arms crossed.

Joss stopped dead in her tracks, how could he know? Was he with the bank? She thought she knew everyone involved with the store, how could this be happening?

She turned to meet his stare again. His eyebrows had high arches that reminded her of every villain she had ever seen in a film. He was removing his suit jacket and laying it across his arm and pulling her in once again with his offered hand. 

"Now that I have your attention Jocelyn, I will not give you any more insight into my plans than I have already. At least not until we have eaten." He said placing her arm again in his. 

Joss thought her eyes screamed "Help!" to every passerby. But what could she be yelling for? She was not in pain, she was not in harm's way, that she knew of, but she knew something was very wrong. 

They walked the sidewalks completely silent. He towered over her 5'3 stature; she was guessing he was probably six foot three, and around 250 pounds. He could probably outrun her, and most definitely could overpower her. He did not exude his strength or size on her at all. Perhaps, she thought, he merely wanted to talk about her father's business after all. However she knew in the back of her mind that he wanted something else entirely.

Lunch

When they arrived at the restaurant, the matre d apparently knew the man.

"Mr. Fairfax, we have been expecting you! We have your usual table, by the window in the back. Your niece is joining you today?" The maître d asked chummily, smiling gleefully at Joss. Joss decided to stay quiet and go along with the charade to determine what was going on. 

"That would be fine Maxwell, very well." The gray haired man replied with a sigh. The pair followed the waiter back to a very private table set for two. It appeared to be a banquet room that could hold nearly fifty people, but today it was entirely dim, and removed. It was a vast contrast from the beautiful sunny day on the Chicago streets. 

"I am not hungry." Stated Joss emotionless. 

"We will both have the lamb, rare, a house salad, and a bottle of the best champagne Maxwell, we are celebrating!" The man ordered, removing Joss' sweater, and pulling out her chair. 

The Maitre d nodded and disappeared from Joss' sight. She felt like she had just lost a lifeline.

"I will walk," she whispered with a harsh tone, "No...I will run, out of this place as fast as I can if you do not tell me who you are and what it is that you want from me immediately." 

He chuckled again in a low gruff manner placing his hands in front of his mouth, as if hiding a secret. 

"Very well, Jocelyn." He sipped the water set in front of him. 

"My name is Vance Fairfax," he replied, "Does that sound familiar to you at all?" 

It did to Joss, but she shook her head and touched her forehead as if trying to recall the information. 

"VF?" She mouthed with her lips. 

"Yes, that's right. Good girl. You do remember me." He smiled again, pleased. 

"VF.....VF.....you ran for an office? Last November?" Joss held a hand up in the air, as if grasping for a thought. She couldn't imagine, what in the world this political figure would want with her? Why in the world would he have had that scarf?

"VF was a part of my campaign, your right. I was a senator for two years..........and now I am the attorney general." He smiled dancing his fingers on the lip of his glass. 

"I am sorry Mr. Fairfax... I haven't the slightest idea what this has to do with me or my family." Joss leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. 

The waiter carried out a plate of rolls and butter, champagne and glasses. The waiter was silent and precise. Mr. Fairfax never even blinked. 

"All in time Jocelyn." Vance Fairfax winked as he held up his glass in a faux cheers and swallowed the champagne. 

The food came out shortly after, and Joss finally broke the silence when the waiter walked away. 

"I don't really care for lamb." Joss stated scooting the plate away. 

"Have you ever had it?" he asked and she shook her head. 

"Well, it's absurd that you would deny yourself any pleasure simply because you had never had it before. How would you know if you enjoyed it or not? I request that you at least try it...I did buy it for you." He ushered the plate back in front of her. He did make a point. She was already at the restaurant and whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was starving. 

She took a small bite and enjoyed it so that she began eating it fervently. 

"Good girl." Vance smiled again. 

At the end of the meal, they both sighed loudly and began their conversation again. 

"So tell me, Mr. Fairfax, what business you have with me so that I may be on my way." Joss explained matter of factly. "Please call me Joss."

"I will not call you Joss, your name is Jocelyn and I prefer it. We can talk business now if you like...would you like to talk about it here or your loft?" The smirk he had hidden while he was eating had come right back to his face and rested quite comfortably there. 

"How do you know about where I live? How do you know about my family?" She questioned as she could feel her chest rise and fall quickly with haste. 

"Alright, we can talk here..." he swallowed the last bit of champagne and began, "Well I ordered the champagne because we are indeed rejoicing. We are celebrating your new scholarship opportunity. I had come across your application to complete your Master's Degree with the University, which is my alma mater. I wanted to inform you that you had been chosen."

Joss remembered the paperwork she had filled out in the fall but they had called to tell her she was denied. 

"I know the University denied your request, however, I made a considerable donation to help them.......reconsider." Vance leaned in to the table as if telling a secret. 

"But, I don't..." Joss protested and he held his hand up to silence her. 

"I am not done." He continued with a stern tone.

"Your father is in far over his head and understanding when it comes to that poor excuse for a diner. He has two loans on it with the bank, and is within a blink of an eye away from losing it. I have it in my power to close it for good, or help it sustain into the far distant future. Your poor mother has had ill health for what, five years now? I can see to it that she never has another hospital bill, with the best care possible, for as long as she lives. Your brother, overseas in the military, yes? I can make one simple phone call that can have him on a plane in an hour and on your parents door step tonight."

"How could you, I mean why..? WHO ARE YOU?" Joss questioned pushing out her chair and raising her voice. 

"Oh dear, calm down. I told you who I am. I am only here to help you.........." His voice trailed. 

"But...?"Joss interrupted his sentence.

"However, I do need something myself of course. In lieu of payment.... I have a simple request. There is no need for money of any kind. I have no need for more money." Vance let out a sigh and a sly smirk. 

Joss simply replied "No."

"No? You do not even know what it is that I am after." He grinned.

"I have an idea." She stood up quickly.

"Jocelyn Tate, sit down or you might as well sign the deed to the diner, wave goodbye to your mothers hospital care, and you can pretty well guarantee you will never see your older brother Thomas again." He said in a gruff, hateful tone.

She nearly fainted into her chair when she heard her middle name. She was beginning to get dizzy. What is it that he wanted...her mind raced. 

"Now then, these are the rules for my.....lets label it my, scholarship program." He whispered. 

"Number one, you will carry this phone with you at all times. I am the only one that has that number, and I will be the only one that you discuss this relationship with.... Do you understand so far?" He stated sternly. 

She nodded and dizzily stated, "I can just go to the..."

"Police, Jocelyn? Really? I thought you were a bright girl....I am the Attorney General. I have the FBI, and CIA in my pocket, do you honestly think I do not have officers bending over backwards to please me?" he looked out the window, pointing to six men on the street.

"One, two three....four, five, six. Six undercover FBI agents, watching my every move. They all know what this is about, and this has been going on a lot longer than today sweetheart." He continued grinning. 

"The scarf...." Joss pulled on it around her neck. "How did you know about the scarf, and my family... how did you find me? Why me?"

"Well goodness me, I guess it was about five weeks ago. Yes, five weeks, it was still quite frigid out and you were strolling with Gus in the park." He recalled the name of her dog, and her stomach sank even lower. 

"You wore your long beautiful curls down with that hideous knit hat. You were carrying your satchel of art supplies back to the studio and accidently dropped one of your brushes." He finished.

"You picked it up. That is why you looked so familiar." Joss put a hand to her lips from trying to hold in her breath.

"I fell for you then Jocelyn. You snickered when I handed it back to you and of course thanked me." He broke her gaze and looked away recalling the moment. 

"I would follow you by that damn store for three weeks while you admired that scarf....you had to have it."

"Why not just ask me to dinner, or coffee? I might have said yes!" she exclaimed.

"I do not ask, Jocelyn. You see, I get what I want, when I want it.I do not leave it up to you." He took her wrist once again as she tried pulling away slightly. He traced her arm with his middle fingers, sending chills up her arms.

"Think of me as a naughty school boy who does not share his toys," He whispered, "I do not share, and I do not comprehend the word no."

The Loft

Her hands were shaking as she tried to unlock the bolt to her apartment. Vance Fairfax was inches behind her tracing lines on her back.

"Lets go, Jocelyn. I have places to be." He pushed her gently. 

She pulled the key out of the lock, and in a last attempt to get some answers she spun around facing him.

"How did you know about everything Mr. Fairfax...where I live, my family, just tell me how?" She demanded meekly.

He placed both of his large hands on her hips and slid his fingers on the inside of her pants.

She gasped for breath while he answered her slowly.

"I just did my due research Jocelyn. I had my investigators wire nearly every square inch of your loft, I hired a brand new executive at the bank that handles all of your father's affairs, and I enlisted a few imperative individuals at the hospital where your mother gets her transfusions. There is no need to call on my military contacts until you and I have established a......genuine and accountable relationship." He leaned in to her neck and she shuttered. He gently kissed behind her ear and down to her shoulder. 

She turned around in final protest to unlock the door and he angrily took the keys out of her hand and forcefully turned the lock. She nearly fell into her apartment. He tossed the keys onto the butcher block counter to his left. 

He called out "Cease."

"What does that mean?" She questioned.

"I will not have my team recording our time together." He said calmly. He crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her small waist. She inhaled a shaky breath not wanting o display her nerves. He held her hair up to kiss her neck, and blew a quick breath giving her a quick chill. She winced, drawing up both shoulders. 

"To the bedroom Jocelyn, you will find something on the bed. Put it on, and I will be right behind you." He let her go as he began taking off his jacket. 

She quickly walked to her bedroom preparing to draw out her cell phone to call her parents, or anyone for that matter, for help. She didn't have a plan, but she did not want to be alone with him without someone else knowing he existed.

He came in seconds behind her. "Are you looking for this?" He held her phone in his palm. He laid it on her bed, next to the beautiful white lingerie. "It no longer works, Jocelyn. Only the new one that I gave you will work now. I will be able to hear every precious word you tell a soul, so do not doubt that I will be on your doorstep should I hear any hint of you spilling the beans about us to anyone." 

She felt a tear swelling up in her eyes. She was completely caught up in his web. Mr. Fairfax still wore the smug smile he had worn all afternoon. It was now close to six in the late afternoon and he had drawn all of the blinds, it grew so dark in her room. 

"Why are you near tears my dear? I have done so much to please you...do you not appreciate the outfit, the money, or the lengths to which I have gone for you?" Vance pulled her in pressing her damp right cheek to his lips. 

"You will enjoy our times together, I assure you." He whispered. 

She stood still as he undressed her slowly. First her warm sweater gently fell to the ground. Chills spread rapidly to her stomach; next he fell to his knees and unbuttoned her jeans. He was still in his gray suit and tie which turned her on more than she wanted to admit. 

She was wearing nothing but her light pink bra and underwear when he began undressing. 

"Put on the lingerie and get on the bed." He demanded pointing to the bed she had crawled out of just that morning. 

It was an intricate lacy, beautiful piece of lingerie, she thought. He sat down on her gray chair watching her change. He had removed his jacket and unbuttoned the top of his pants. 

"Now, Jocelyn come over, sit on my lap, and unbutton my shirt." He opened his arms and patted his lap. She timidly walked over to him. He took her hand and pulled on her gently.

"You may call me Vance. Ok Jocelyn?" Vance said kindly. 

She nodded. 

His legs were warm underneath her bare bottom, she could feel his member throbbing beneath her damp underwear. She could feel her shaky breath rising and falling with angst. She began slowly unbuttoning his shirt, rarely looking up to his eyes, which never left hers. 

"You look just as I always imagined you would. Perfect. Your skin is so tanned and warm Jocelyn, please do not alter that." He described her like he was looking at a piece of artwork. He took his left hand and removed the straps of the restrictive lingerie. He inhaled sharply as he sat up abruptly taking her in his arms. He stole passionate, wet, and incredibly sloppy kiss as she moaned loudly. She nearly came from earnest desire. 

He threw her onto the bed with fierce longing as he pushed his pants to the floor.

"Ahh..." she moaned letting her eyes roll to the back of her head. Before she opened them again his lips were less than an inch away from hers. He pushed her knees flat onto the mattress until the resistance bounced them back.

"Are you ready for me love?" he quietly persisted, holding her hands well above her head. 

She nodded emphatically with her dark brown tresses bouncing off of her moist, bare breast. She was ready for this man to take her. She had no opportunity to fight him, no outlet to get away, and he made it so easy. He felt so powerful, and in some twisted, perverted way, she reveled in it. 

He thrust his engorged penis into her tight, wet swollen cunt. She let out a cry that could be heard around the building she was sure. He covered her mouth with his hand and grabbed tightly onto her ass with the other. He did not let up, but instead thrust only deeper still. She finally could breathe no longer and tried to gasp for air. 

"That's it..that's it, right there isn't it Jocelyn?" he demanded again. She nodded again holding his hand firmly over her mouth. 

She pulled her hair behind her neck, as she was growing even hotter. On that cue, he pulled out and threw her over and placed her on her knees. Joss grasped the pillow as hard as she possibly could as he smacked her ass with his hand. She was panting heavily and let out a small cry. 

"Jocelyn... what is my name?" He asked. "Do you remember what my name is?" Vance took his right hand and pulled her up by her neck under her chin. 

"Vance..." she whispered with her eyes shut. "Vance."




No Way Out



"Good. That's nice..." he began tracing her under her tight boobs and grasping her nipples tightly between his fingers. She let out a small cry. 

"I did not say to cry Jocelyn." He said sternly and grasped them even harder, forcing her to cry out even louder. He pushed her shoulders down and smacked her bottom even harder. She screamed into the pillow. 

"You get what you deserve Jocelyn. I told you... I get what I want and you can NOT complain or cry out... understand?" 

"Yes." She whimpered. How she enjoyed this pain, she wondered. Why did it feel so good coming from him? "Yes Vance." She finally let out. 

"No, I suppose you have lost the right to call me that." He shook his head. "That just won't do." 

He pulled her hips up to his and wet between her legs again. She shuttered. 

"You can call me sir, or Mr. Fairfax." He said in a louder more pronounced voice. He shoved his member again in her forcefully over and over again. She cried out repeatedly. 

"Is this pleasing to you Jocelyn?" He pulled her up to him again, this time she fell nearly limp. She merely nodded. He held her chin from behind. 

"Speak." He demanded licking her jaw line of its sweat. 

"Yes. It feels good." She whined. 

"It feels good?" He whined back "Who, who is making you feel good Jocelyn? Who has their dick so far in your pussy you can't talk? Who is that??" He was still holding her chin up close to his so that he could hear each breath that escaped her. 

"Sir... You sir... Mr. Fairfax." She replied not even opening her eyes. 

"Mr. Fairfax what?" He said playing with his other hand on her crotch. 

She shook emphatically while he tickled her raw, throbbing, sopping wet pussy. 

"Mr. Fairfax makes me feel gooooood." Joss let out. 

"Nice." He exclaimed shoving her back onto the bed. He finally let her have it, and gave her a release. She exploded all over his legs and her bed. 

"Oh Jocelyn, you made a mess." He pulled back and flipped her around so that she was sitting upright. "You need to apologize."

"I am sorry?" She questioned with her eyes closed.

"No, no, no, no, no...." He yelled. He placed his thumb on the inside of her bottom jaw and shoved her face down to his enormous cock shoving it into her mouth. She choked at first and then began stroking it with her tongue. 

"That's better... there, there, there..." He smiled patting the back of her head. 

"Now apologize" he said cramming her face into his crotch. 

Mumbling she tried to get it out. 

"What was that?" he asked again.

Again, she tried. 

"I still cannot hear you little girl... are you sorry for making a mess?" he asked. 

She nodded, now stroking him rapidly.

"Of course you are. You are a good girl. Good girls always clean up after themselves." He chuckled. 

He came shooting into her mouth with such speed that it shocked her. He kept it inside her mouth, forcing her to swallow. 

Vance picked her head up, pushing the hair away from her moist face. 

"Now what do you believe a good girl should say?" He grinned forcefully upholding her head with his hand under her chin. 

"Thank you, Vance." She mustered.

"Oh... no. Try again." He demanded pulling her hair taut behind her. 

"Thank you Mr. Fairfax." She cried.

"I don't know that I believe you are realllllly grateful Jocelyn," He pulled even harder on her hair. "How sad that makes me." 

"I am though sir," She cried even louder "Thank you Mr. Fairfax!" 

"Better." He whispered kissing her once more with a heavy passion. 

He stood quickly and threw his suit back on while she still lay limp on the bed. She opened her eyes to find him staring longingly back at her. 

"Take a shower, I will have dinner ordered in for you." He spoke slowly. He looked at his watch, and looked up again, this time with a straight face displaying no pleasure. 

"Remember the first rule Jocelyn. Not a soul but you and I will know about this arrangement." He waved his finger in the air like her mother used to when she was getting taught a lesson. 

"You will notice a small weekly allowance in your accounts in addition to your tuition. Do as I ask and it could increase. If you disobey my requests and you will see that also reflect not only your tuition and allowance, but your family's situation as well." He explained it all as she was now fully aware of the position again. 

"See that you remember that I have 24 hour recording of you, everywhere you may go. Do not doubt my power and the extent I might go to find you Jocelyn. You are mine and mine alone. I do not share." Vance recalled.

He walked straight over to the door, as she pulled the covers up to her face, trying to shield her indiscretions. 

He completed strapping his tie around his neck and with a fleeting thought he turned around and said 

"I will have packages delivered here for you. I might even have some of my men stop by to check on you if I am unavailable. NONE of them are to even speak to you, let alone touch you, so do not be afraid. This is meant to be pleasurable." He winked his icy blue eyes and walked out.



No Way Out



I relaxed slightly as I sat down, until I felt a hand rest against my thigh and I froze.

"Did you actually think I wouldn't find you?" My eyes burned with tears as I recognized the voice. I tried to reassure him that the thought never crossed my mind, but the duct tape over my mouth stopped me.

"Take it off," he instructed. The black bag was lifted from my head and I looked down when I met his angry gaze.

"Oh come on beautiful, don't cry." He wiped the trails of mascara from my cheeks. I shuddered, pressing my back against his goon. i struggled to free my wrists but the rope was knotted too tightly.

"Now I told you Guinevere, I love you! And NOTHING will keep us apart." He reached up and tore the duct tape off in one rip. I cried out a little before I quickly silenced myself.

"Please...Derek. I didn't mean to stay away..." He brought a finger to my lips and it smelled like his cigars.

"Shhh...no need for lies dear. It's clear you no longer love me and since you wish to leave me, the least i can do is make sure that you keep to your vows."

"Vows?" I asked nervously.

"Till death do us part of course." He squeezed my knee a few times and took a drink of his imported liquor.

"No baby; I love you! i've always loved you; you know that!" I protested, scooting closer. I was scared for my life. What had i been thinking? It was stupid of me to run. 

"Amazing how compliant you become when you know your life's at stake," he announced cupping my face. i snuggled against his hand affectionately.

"It was a mistake, I'm stupid baby. I don't make good choices if they're not made for me...I swear I won't do anything like that again." The words tasted bitter on my tongue but I said them anyways.

"Well, I suppose I might be inclined to forgive you, but I'm not too convinced you ARE sorry." My lower lip trembled against my will. I knew what he wanted, my ropes were cut and I got down onto the floor of the limousine. I leaned onto his lap and started to unzip him, ignoring his goon who stared out the window, equally ignoring us. Derek needed no preparation as he was already straining against his slacks. As I pulled out his length, he wound one hand into my hair. I didn't hesitate, I wrapped my lips around him and began to slowly bob my head up and down. Derek moaned and leaned back, his grip tightening slowly. I'd done this enough I'd almost mastered the technique he liked the most. I barely paused long enough to catch my breath. It was only 15 minutes before he grabbed my head in both hands and thrust, his warm cum shooting down my throat. I swallowed obediently and rested against his leg panting. he petted my face affectionately and tucked himself back in.

"I have missed you so, my love," he whispered as he patted his lap. I sat down and leaned against him while he wrapped his arms around me and grinned.

"Everyday without you was torture," I pouted, feeling slightly lightheaded.

"You only had to call and I'd have come gotten you."

"I was scared, I don't deserve you. I wasn't sure you'd want me anymore after I'd disobeyed." He slapped me, the stinging sensation spreading across my cheek.. His hand slid down my face and tightly squeezed my throat.

"Do not LIE to me," he growled. I shook my head and he squeezed harder.

"I know you better than you know yourself." He kissed my chin and kissed his way down as he brought me close enough that I was straddling him. I ground myself against him eagerly and his hand caressed my backside while the other cupped my breast. He kissed me deeply, roughly and passionately. he groaned as my dress rode up. reaching between my legs he undid the button and I could feel him rubbing against me.

"Does my Guinevere want this?" he asked between kisses. i nodded, whimpering and moving my hips against him.

"Please," I pleaded. On the inside I wanted nothing more to kill myself and be done withall of this. I sounded so pathetic and weak and I hated myself for it.

"Please what?"

"Please Master," Ibegged. it didn't need repeating, he thrust up and brought me down simultaneously. I cried out as our bodies hit one another and he pounded into me with desperate raw need. There was no gentleness, only urgent lust. When we came I just leaned against him, breathless. After a few minutes he shoved me aside and quickly cleaned himself while straightening his clothes.

"It appears you DID miss me," he announced as he cleared his throat. my heart skipped a few beats, had I convinced him I was worth keeping alive?

"Almost there boss." announced the driver. Derek nodded.

"Perfect, i have a welcome home present for you darling."

"What is it?"

"If i told you, it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?" he held my hand tightly and I waited until the limo came to a stop before i followed Derek out and past the warehouse doors. He led me into a cold, dark room.

"Derek..." I heard a muffled grunt and suddenly the lights came on. After adjusting my eyes I found Steven tied to a chair, unconscious and covered in blood. i screamed and ran to his side; I tried to rouse him.

"Steven?" His eyelids fluttered.

"You see Guinevere, I believe if we eliminate that which tempts you the most, I might be able to trust you again someday."

"No, please! let him go," I pleaded, sinking to my knees. Derek shook his head, as though my answer confused him.

"I'm sorry, I cannot do that."

"Derek, baby, it's not his fault! punish me, not him, it was my fault...my plan. He's only guilty of being weak to my wiles." I sobbed, hand trailing Steven's bruised and bloodied face.

"All your fault huh?" he asked.

"Punish me master, not him. please!!" I begged. Derek came up behind me and pulled my head painful to one side.

"My pet wants punishment?"

"Instead of Steven, please!" Steven lifted his head, opening his eyes.

"Don't Gwen," pleaded Steven.

"SILENCE!" Derek yelled. I crawled over to where Derek had moved, begging him.

"Hands and knees, facing him," he ordered. I obeyed quickly, not thinking twice. i offered myself to him.

"Gwenie..." Steven pleaded.

"See, it took me months to train her Steven...a lot of time, energy and patience went into this," He circled me but I didn't dare move even an inch.

"Even some blood, huh sweetie?" Derek asked, petting my head. I nodded slowly. I'd learned, it had taken awhile, but I learned.

"You're a sick disgusted pig," spat Steven. Derek only laughed as he kneeled behind me, pants already undone, he lifted the hem of my dress up and just shoved his whole length into me. I cried out a little at the change of angles, this one felt different. Steven looked away so Derek thrust harder and faster causing me to make more noise and leaving Steven unable to ignore what was going on right before his very eyes.

"Mmmmm, who's are you?" he asked.

"I'm YOURS master!" I cried out as one of his hands felt its way down the front and began massaging me. I screamed as I orgasmed around him. i hated him, but the intense pleasure always brought me back. it was like a drug, and i was its slave.

"Tell Steven what you are..." Derek instructed, the sadistic bastard.

"I'm a whore..." I announced, knowing from the past all the right answers that always got me rewarded with the feeling I craved the most. I came again as Derek shot his load into me with a good and hard smack to my rear. He gave me permission to relax and I melted into the floor, body floating and numb.

"You see Steven...give it to them well, they come begging for more."

"You're a poor excuse of a man Derek." Derek laughed as he stood and adjusted his pants. He reached into the pocket of his jacket which rested on a sawhorse, and pulled out a large hunting knife. I knew from his collection, this one was one of the best. within seconds, he moved behind Steven and slit his throat. Blood splashed down his chest and hitting me in the face. I screamed, lazy calm feeling replaced with panic and fear. i rushed forward, pressing my hands to his neck, trying to apply pressure to the wound. I knew it was useless, I was too late, he bled too fast, but still I held on even as the gushing turned into a slight trickle.

"Let this be your one and only warning Guinevere; I do not share!" I tried desperately to wake Steven up, grip slipping because of all the blood. Derek wiped his knife on the back of Steven's shirt and sheathed it. I kneeled there, feeling all hope drain from me as the blood drained from Steven. Derek motioned to his bodyguard who picked me up by my arm. I didn't help, motivation left me and I just went dead. when I refused to stand the bodyguard picked me up in a barrel hold and carried me after Derek. I was deposited back into the limo where I sat a huddled mess. Derek answered a call about business and I was promptly ignored. Just the way I liked it. I wondered if the death even registered to Derek. Steven had, after all, been his best friend since childhood. his business partner. Had he planned to kill him all along? Was Steven's lack of remorse the trigger?

Or was he already too much of a sociopath? I glanced at his bodyguard, Jason. He'd known them both for years. Did watching his boss kill Steven affect him? I looked down at my dress, stained red with blood. looked like someone dumped a paint bucket full on me. I wasn't too worried about leaving a mess in the limo, we already knew blood was easy to wash off leather. I just stared at the floor, feeling deflated and hopeless. Was there even a reason to keep going now? While I craved the things Derek could make my body do, my heart belong to Steven, always had. Even back in high school. The ride wasn't long before we got to the small airport. Nobody seemed to mind I looked like i'd just bathed in a massacre. I made my way up the stairs and into the private jet. 

The stewardess threw a sheet down, the leather was just too white. Most the blood had dried, and began feeling like caked on mud. By the time Derek got off his phone I was already starting to fall asleep. He sat beside me and brought my head to rest on his shoulder, not caring one bit if I stained his suit, he was always like that.

"Don't be so gloom sugar. I'll miss him too, but I couldn't let him get away with taking you away from me." I didn't respond, it wouldn't do me any good to argue with him. He just continued to stroke one hand absently down my arm. Eventually I closed my eyes and fell right to sleep.

Unfortunately sleeping didn't allow me to escape this nightmare. Awaiting behind my closed eyelids were nightmares, blood covered nightmares. when I finally woke up from an uncomfortable fretful night, I found Derek sipping his scotch while reading something on his laptop. I never really asked him much about the work he did, not that he was much of the sharing type anyways. What I knew from Steven was they worked for a big law firm for some major oil companies. And Derek was a partner, there was no one that could argue and win over a jury like he could. He could sell ice water in hell. I just sat there, watching him, his eyebrow furrowing over something on the screen before him. Just as his scotch would get low, the stewardess would refill it automatically so that he never ran out. She could recall several nights where she'd found him passed out on the loveseat in his office, empty glass in his hand, the smell of scotch clear across the room. 

The three of us had gone to the same high school, Derek and I had even lived in the same trailer park, we'd known each other since we were little and our parents had been friends. Growing up in the same park, going to the same schools we'd been close. But high school changed everything. while I'd once been happy to just sit around and get fucked up with Derek and a few others the year before. High school kind of hit me with a dose of reality. I didn't have many years left before I'd be an adult and forced to fend for myself. I'd been taking care of myself for years, but if I wanted to ever break the cycle and become more than a drunk passed out on the couch like my own mother, I needed to strive for something better.

It began the second week of high school, I was in the library, actually doing homework while I waited for Derek to get out of detention. Steven had sat down at the same table, the only one with room left. He broke the ice by asking to borrow a pencil, and realized we shared the same math class. I asked him about problem 23 and we became instant friends. He actually met Derek and despite how opposite they were, we were like the 3 amigos. Steven was the son of a lawyer, lived high class, you'd expect him to be a snob, but Steven just wasn't that type of guy. When I went out of state for college Derek had gone berserk, ending our relationship. I went to an art institute and both Derek and Steven became lawyers and eventually inheriting Steven's firm. They were like brothers.

I sat up slowly, watching and waiting for Derek to acknowledge I was awake. sometimes he'd play 

games and pretend I wasn't there for hours. He'd changed so much from the boy I'd befriended by the frog pond. His black hair was medium length and gelled back neatly. Everything about Derek screamed time and care. He held himself with poise and purpose and just his presence demanded attention. If he didn't acknowledge me, I didn't exist so therefore I wasn't allowed to talk, or move really until he acknowledged me. I just stared at him, patiently. After a few minutes a smile curved his lips and he looked over with a smile.

"Wash up, we're landing soon and we have a lunch we have to get to. Everything is where it's always been." he announced. I nodded and made my way into the back of the plane where he had a suite built. I made myself a hot shower and scrubbed myself clean. once dried I shuffled through the closet of expensive clothes and picked out my little black strapless dress. After makeup, jewelry and my hair just the way he liked it I made myself comfortable in the seat beside him. His hand rested on my leg while the other scrolled down the pages of his memo. I rested my head on his shoulder and stared blankly at the wall.

"I noticed while you were sleeping that your ring is missing..." he announced. i didn't respond or move, frozen in anticipation. He patted my knee reassuringly.

"See, that's how I found you. You and he left a pretty messy trail, and I picked it up at the pawnshop." I felt the cold metal slip around my finger and my heart sank. He turned his head and kissed me. I kissed him back until he pulled away and took another sip of scotch. Declaring himself tired he closed his laptop and pulled me close until I lay on my side facing him.

"These past few weeks without you have been very lonely," he announced. I looked up into his eyes, such passionate words, but when coming from the mouth of a cold murdering psychopath, it didn't exactly warm my heart to hear. I buried my face into his chest and waited patiently to see what I should be doing next. And for a while Derek seemed content to just hold me against him. But like always, that never lasted for long. when his hand caressed its way down my side, and his lips captured mine. Closing my eyes I sank into his embrace, letting him lead me.

The jet landed with little disturbance and once we touched ground I could breathe again. I never felt completely safe in the air. With my arm wrapped through Derek's we made our way to an awaiting car. A bright green Lamborghini. Having been raised in poverty, Derek believed himself entitled to whatever he wanted. Even if that included me. Nobody told Derek no, except Steven. but i guess he didn't say no anymore either. Derek sped to the country club. Having been drinking for many years, it took more than a bit of scotch to affect him. His hand trailed its way up my leg and under my dress. I parted my legs for him. and his hand found their destination. I moaned and bit down on my lower lip as his fingers explored and exploited.

I slapped a palm against the window and tossed my head back in ecstasy. as I panted and tried to regain a small hold on reality, he withdrew his hand. when I could think clearly again we were already parked. Derek leaned his back against his door and was just simply watching me.

"A little something to get you through some of tonight," he muttered. I looked over at him dazedly.

"Thank you for your kindness Master." Derek just smiled at me and finally got out and came around to help me out of the ridiculously expensive car. He helped smooth my dress out before we headed inside. For the first hour we made our way around the room and greeted everyone, a few faces familiar others I couldn't quite place. A few asked me about my mysterious illness and I just smiled and answered the way I knew I was supposed to. Even when we were younger, I'd never fitted in with these people. My anxiety would rise, I'd hyperventilate. Steven was born into it and somehow Derek just seemed to fit right in, despite having similar childhood to me.

This was his world now, and how he could manipulate most of these arrogant people. If only they knew the kind of person really was behind his facade. His blending skills amazed me each time I see him among this element. Never knowing what to say or how to fit in, I always relied on Derek to see me through. and he'd taught me, day after day until I had it down perfectly. Soon we were ushered to our seats where we eagerly stared up at the podium. I sat on Derek's knee, and if people were staring, I was unaware. None of their opinions mattered anyways. only Derek, his wishes, opinions and needs were all that mattered. As the scene blended into the background, i found my mind running. I wasn't sure when the Derek I knew became the Derek that was here today. He was different when I came back from college. He was cold, indifferent. having been my best friend, I'd expected a warm welcome; I'd been stupid.

Once the presentation was finished Derek snuck us upstairs and into an office. He didn't waste time with warm up he sat me down on the desk, burying his head between my legs. I wrapped a hand in his hair and moaned. He kissed my thigh, nipping the flesh. then he delved his tongue forward and I threw my head back, relaxing into him. He growled and rested one of my legs over his shoulder while lifting the other heel onto the desk. He dug in, tongue lashing wildly while his hand lent him assistance.

"Oh Derek," I breathed. the encouragement sent him into a frenzy and spots of white light flashed in my vision as I came. I fell onto my back, gasping. his head peeked up over my knee and he grinned. Something about his grin always reminded me of the old Derek.

"We have lost time to make up for," he explained. Even with his appetite he'd never been this crazed before. As I lay there in an orgasmic stupor he stood and lifted both my legs up, his member met little resistance. He grabbed my hips and began to pound me into the desk. Each time my backside slammed into the wood I cried out and grabbed the edge of the desk as not to be fucked straight off the desk. I flexed my hips up to meet his, matching the rhythm with equal intensity. At the last second he moved to the opposite side of the desk, stroked twice and released himself on my face. He cried out with the involuntary flex of his hips. I licked the mess I could reach and he ran a hand through my hair.

"You're so beautiful Guinevere..." he announced. I looked away, I didn't feel that way, hadn't for a long time. Derek had turned me into a wanting sex toy, Steven had made me feel like a woman...a person with a mind, with wants and dreams. Things I'd forgotten about a long time ago. Of course it hadn't always been that way, I'd married Derek after all...although looking back I had to wonder which actions were truly mine and which ones had I done to please him? I could feel his spunk, cold clumps drying on my face but until I was told so, I didn't dare move or attempt to clean it off. Derek fixed his suit and handed me a handkerchief from his pocket and I cleaned myself up best I was able.




No Way Out



"You seem very distracted babe," Derek announced, brow furrowing. My heart raced.

"I'm sorry," I apologized immediately. if he suspected, or I gave even the slightest indication I was thinking about Steven and his death who knew what would happen. I feared it was too late to go back to mindless slave, I'd spent too much time out of his care, too much time with Steven, being reminded that I was a person inside. Standing up to Derek wasn't an option. if he thought I was a lost cause, I doubted he'd have hesitated to slit my throat like he had to Steven. Tears ran down my face as I tried to control my emotions. He'd proven that even running away was useless. there was no escape for me, we'd be stuck in this endless cycle until one of us died.

I'd considered killing Derek once...only once, the thought barely flittered across my mind now. I had a scar to remind me if I even gave into such thoughts. it had been during my training...I'd gotten a hold of one of his hunting knives, I'd threatened him with it, crying hysterically to be let go. We'd fought for it, I'd gotten one good slice down his bicep before he wrestled it away. I lay pinned, his blood flowing down his arm freely as he stared those cold eyes down at me. I had thought that was it for me, that very second I'd felt the icy cold brush of death and I was scared. But instead of killing me, he'd pulled out his lighter and started to heat the tip of the knife. I fought, uselessly. Slowly he'd brought the tip down onto my arm and dragged it painfully across the inside my bicep. it cut, it burned and I screamed, trying to break free.

But I quickly learned that I wasn't free unless he wanted me free. I could see the scar perfectly, although because of its place, few others could. the scar throbbed with ghost pain and I absently rubbed it. I had spent 6 long painful months in 'training'.

"I hate to see my girl so upset," he muttered as he reached over to wipe away my tears. I just stared at him, struggling to control myself.

"I just miss you," I answer honestly. but the Derek I missed, seemed to exist no longer. I had watched Derek carefully for a few years, I never even caught a glimpse of the old Derek.

"Do you remember the day we met by the Frog Pond?" I asked softly, hoping to see a flicker or even brief glimpse of the old him. But even as he recalled the memory so perfectly, his cold demeanor still held. My mother and father were fighting, about money, as they always did in those days. They were screaming and throwing things at each other. None of them bothering to concern themselves that I was only a few feet away. One day, having heard my limit, I snuck out the back door and decided to run away. I went straight for the woods, determined to live off the land like the boys in Huckleberry Finn. i doubted they'd even know I was gone. It was noon, judging by the intense heat beating down from the sky and I stopped by a small pond to cool down by putting my feet in the pond.

I remember being sad and feeling hopeless about my parents constant arguing. across the small pond I caught a glimpse of a boy idly chatting away to the frog in his hands. I watched for quite a few minutes before he looked over and noticed me. He stood and ran into hiding.

"You don't need to run from me!" I called out, but he stayed out of sight. I sat down and soaked my feet." I kept my eyes to the woods, hoping to catch glimpse of the boy who seemed to be my age. I'd yet to make any friends. it seemed forever before he finally appeared, behind me.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded from behind me. I looked up at him, he wore cut off jeans, sandles and no shirt. His scrawny little Body had small scars and a few bruises, and I asked him what they were from.

"My dad gets mad when he drinks." That was the only explanation he gave me and I chose not to ask further.

"Now answer my question girl!" I giggled.

"I'm running away!" I replied with a smile. I still hadn't figured out where i was going, but anywhere was better than home?

"Your dad a drunk too?" he asked softly, sitting down besides me. I shook my head, there were other things, but I wasn't sure how much to tell and what was secret.

We'd stayed the night by the frog pond, talking, playing a few games, he even built a small fire and shared the hotdogs he'd brought with him. We ended up going home in the morning, hungry and swearing we'd run away after we could prepare better. We never did actually runaway, no matter how often we talked of it. Eventually Derek got emancipated, shortly after his dad died so he had the trailer home to himself which is where I spent so much my own time. My mother had killed herself and my dad decided to spend his time either high on drugs or drunk. He couldn't deal with the death of my mother. Derek had been my best friend, my savior. the shoulder I always cried on, the one person who made me feel safe and loved. I sighed.

"Why can't we go back to then?" I asked. He shook his head.

"Because that Derek didn't get the one thing he wanted no matter how hard he worked for it. If this is what I have to do to keep you, then I can do it." His words chilled me to the bone, he'd never willingly let me go. And sadly what he said held some truth. if i didn't fear him, I would have left long time ago.

"That's not true.." I protested. He grabbed a handful of hair and yanked my head to the side exposing my throat to him where he planted small kisses.

"Don't LIE to me darling...you know you're no good at it." He leaned forward, kisses traveling down. I closed my eyes and gave into him once.