36 comments/ 59053 views/ 9 favorites A Parliamentary Private Secretary By: ukresearcher Warning: Those of you who don't care for my other stories certainly won't like this. Note on names: In this story I have always referred to the Government minister only as 'John' but even that was not his real name. Also my wife's given name is Deborah but she likes Debbie, Debs and Deb. The only version of her name that she used to dislike is Debra. * I always considered myself to be one of those individuals especially favoured by life. Most people have some attribute in which they excel with this compensating for deficiencies elsewhere but I am fortunate in having almost the full set. I have a pleasing face and for a long time believed I was six foot tall but now admit to being some fractions of an inch short of that magic number. My physique is sound without any real effort by me, although the odd game of squash can't do any harm. Most importantly I have an acute intelligence which gained me a first class honours degree at Oxford and has enabled me to start building a rewarding career. Over the years I have never had any trouble finding willing women and none had reason to complain about my above average seven plus inches cock. And almost without exception they have been eye catching females. Very early on I noticed that exceptionally attractive girls seem to intimidate the majority of males so that at dances, when the floor was soon filled with their lesser favoured sisters; the real beauties were left playing the wallflower role. I had no such qualms and stepped in to be often well rewarded for my efforts. With no need to lower my standards, I convinced myself that only the best were good enough for me. I met Debbie through work and to begin with even I was tongue-tied by her beauty. She is one of the worlds few truly beautiful women, with a slim well rounded body and fabulous legs completing the package. Her intelligence has the edge on my own. She took a double degree, majoring in politics with research as the minor and getting top class passes in both. We met when she had just started working for a research firm that specialised in work for the houses of parliament. Our first meal out was on expenses but at the end of the evening I suggested a further date and it was accepted. Debbie was a passionate kisser but I made no attempt to take things further and even after two weeks and four further dates I still had only managed a few gratuitous feels of her body during embraces. She looked so untouched that I was frightened of seeming pushy and ruining everything. Late that evening, back at her exclusive riverside development flat, she took control by saying, "You can have me if you want." It was like tapping into a volcano. After six months we were spending four or five nights together every week, either in my small flat or her more luxurious place. Besotted I suggested that we should move in together but Debbie was resistant to the idea. "Why not?" I blurted, "I love you and I don't want to lose you. I want us to be together all the time." "I love you too and I'm not going anywhere but you can't get too serious about me," she replied. I had not considered myself the marrying kind but now it seemed the only way to hold her. As prelude to a proposal, putting my cards on the table, I told her, "I've never been married or engaged but I haven't been a shrinking violet either and there are quite a lot of girls in my past. There were two longish relationships and I did live with one girl for a few months." "There is no need to tell me that, I'm willing to let the past stay in the past," she said, rather too quickly. I had assumed that she would have very little past to divulge but now I began to wonder. "What about you?" "How many girls were there?" "More than twenty," I admitted reluctantly. Debbie nodded but said nothing. "And you?" "Why do you want to know?" "Because I want to marry you." Debbie shook her head and I thought I saw a tear in her eye. "I can't marry you and my past is the reason why not. I have never had a real relationship before you but I have had sex with well over a hundred men." The news took the wind out of my sails and a good proportion of air from my lungs. I just sat and stared at her until after a long pause she explained gently, "The whole four years at university I worked as an escort in the evening one day a week. My conscience is clear and I thought I could forget it but I know how devastated you would have been if you found out after we were married." "Why did you do it?" "It seemed the logical thing to do. I'll try to explain." Debbie paused to pour us both a large glass of wine. "My parents are not well off but they made a lot of sacrifices for me and I knew they were prepared to use the rest of their savings getting me through university. I couldn't let them do that." I started to say something but she held up a hand to stop me. "The other girls with me were all sex crazy and went out with the intent to get pissed and then get laid with the result that their lives were a continuous round of binge drinking and promiscuity, often waking up in bed with some male they didn't even recognise. I wanted sex too but in a more controlled way and this led me to think why not get paid to do it and use the money to finance myself." "How much did you charge and how did it make you feel?" I asked. "I often got over £1000 for the night but because I spent the evening dining with a client didn't mean that sex was a done deal. They still had to woo me and even then I had to feel attracted to let them fuck me. As to feelings, I enjoyed doing it, there was nothing not to enjoy. Most of the men were a lot older than me but in many ways this was an advantage. They were usually successful and intelligent and knew how to treat a woman. I never came across the kind of brashness that so many younger men tend to display." "It must have been a lonely life in a way." "Not at all. Many of the men became regulars and I built up a rapport with them. Sometimes with favourites I spent a whole weekend with them off the books and I was treated to at least one luxury holiday abroad every year." "Then why did you stop?" "It was a pleasant interlude but it was always a means to an end. It paid for my education and left me able to put a large cash sum down on my flat but I knew I could do so much more with my life. Now I'm paying the penalty because I've fallen in love with you and I know you won't want anything more to do with me after this. Oh you'll end it nicely but I know it is bound to be over between us." "You know nothing," I said fiercely. "I still want to marry you and I'm asking you to do the honour of becoming my wife. The past remains in the past where you wanted it. I know that I can't live without you." Debbie gave a long sigh and I saw happiness flood her face. "I will marry you but on condition that you don't start asking for details on the things I've done." I dutifully promised that I would never mention anything she had just told me and the next moment she was in my arms. We were married six weeks later and started on an idyllic lifestyle with every spare moment devoted to pleasuring each other. The sex was wonderful. I sometimes did wonder how my love making skills compared to that of her many previous paramours and partly as a result of this my efforts were concentrated more on giving her sexual pleasure rather than seeking my own. Life continued like this for three fantastic years. Then one evening I found my wife in a highly excited state and listened to her say that she had been approached to be the Labour candidate at a forthcoming bye-election. "I won't win because it's a safe Conservative seat but if I put up a good show I could be offered somewhere with better prospects at the next general election," she reported realistically. As a loyal husband I accompanied Debbie on the door knocking and stood to the side observing at all the election meetings. I did not understand the procedure but I could see how men responded to her and, win or lose, I was confident she would get far more votes than the polls were indicating. Then there was a surprising but significant development. The first reports said that her opponent had been mugged but then it transpired that the assault had occurred on a common in a notorious area where gay men were known to congregate in search of random sex. The newspapers were full of it. Debbie was continuously asked her opinion by interviewers but her answer was always, 'I refuse to capitalise on an error of judgement.' It became a catch phrase applied to her and she eventually won the seat. Very soon the event that had helped was forgotten and she was treated as the golden girl who had managed to overturn a huge majority. As a back bencher her salary more than doubled but with the peculiar Commons hours the routine of our lives were changed. However we soon adjusted and sex was given a fresh impetuous by the new purpose she now had in life. Three months later it was to change again, signalled by a very excited wife telling me she had been asked to be the parliamentary private secretary for a government minister. "How much more salary will that mean," I asked, having become greedy from the extra cash we already had to spend. "There will be extra allowances but it is essentially an unpaid post. It will mean a lot more work and responsibility but it puts me on the fast track to advancement. I might have waited for several years before getting this kind of opportunity. If I do well I could be a junior minister in a few years and after that I might possibly end up in the cabinet." My wife's eyes were shining as she spoke and I suddenly realised quite how ambitious she was. Debbie's new job impinged on our lives to a far greater extent. Her new boss made many visits to Northern Ireland and Scotland and also various capitals within the common market. Usually these were two day affairs but Debbie was generally expected to accompany him. I tried to be patient but on three occasions a telephone call from her boss took her out again when we were nicely settled down for the evening. Twice she did not return until the following day but on the most recent occasion she was back within half an hour. "He wanted me to do something for him urgently and I won't be seeing him for the next two days," she explained. I rather resented being deprived of her company by the responsibilities of the new job but this was mitigated by the very obvious pleasure it gave her. I have always had an intuitive ability to read body language and the nuances of facial expression. Soon after joining my present firm, observing the familiarity between a guy called Alan and a girl called Edwina I felt sure that they had had sex, even though he was married and she had a long term live in boyfriend. When I knew Alan better I asked if they had had an affair. He told me, "It wasn't an affair but just under two years ago we were on a three week course together and were at it like knives every night. When the course ended, we both agreed that was it and there hasn't been anything since." Later on that year, I intercepted significant glances exchanged between another colleague and the boss's personal assistant, which led me to the conclusion that they were probably engaged in a secret relationship. Six months later I think I was the only one in the firm not amazed when they both left their respective spouses and set up home together. I was rather pleased with my insight but never suspected that it would eventually tell me something that I did not want to know. After she has been a PPS for about six months there was an official banquet to celebrate the visit by a foreign head of state and Debbie was to be there accompanying her boss. Part of the event was to be televised so I settled down in front of the TV hoping to catch a glimpse of my wife if she happened to pass in front of a camera. There was a montage of outside shots but then the camera switched to a celebrity presenter in a room where guests were standing about waiting. Amongst these, my wife was at the opposite side of the room talking to a stocky older male who I guessed to be the minister, her boss. For a period of about twenty minutes various willing guests were brought in front of the camera for a few words with the interviewer and Debbie remained in camera shot all the time. Her male companion was presenting a three quarter rear view showing only the part profile of a rather jowly face and my wife was facing him, looking divine. Almost all of the other females present were grossly overdressed with most wearing floor length gowns and many also adorned with hats. In contrast, my wife had a simple knee length black dress that subtly showed all her curves but at the same time it was pure classic. I sat enthralled, overflowing with admiration for my lovely wife. But then something jarred in my brain. I don't know if it was her posture or the expression on her face but suddenly I knew with absolute conviction that she was sleeping with him. I stared shocked, desperately trying to convince myself that I was wrong but just before they left the room it was confirmed in my mind when Debbie leaned forward, seeming to slightly adjust his tie and then brush something from his lapel. Finally, as they turned to move away, his hand slipped quite naturally round her waist, (and rather low on her waist at that), to shepherd her ahead of him towards the exit. I had known all along that she would not be home until the next day but my new knowledge turned my wait into a torment because she was almost certainly sharing a bed with him. Carnal images flooded my mind and I seesawed between deep despair and intense arousal. I struggled to control my escalating emotions but in the end gave up and resorted to alcohol, finishing up spending the night lying pitifully drunk on the living room floor. Debbie has never lied to me. When faced with a question that she does not want to answer she will procrastinate or try to change the subject, most times successfully managing to avoid divulging what she wishes to keep secret. At other times she will resort to anger and has a great knack of managing to put me on the defensive. When she got home I knew she would not tell a direct lie but in the absence of any solid proof, I did not know if she would confirm my suspicions. She walked in the door at just past ten thirty the next morning. Her face had an unmistakeable glow but that could be due to the excitement of the event. "Had a good time?" I asked. "It was wonderful. I'll probably end up attending a lot of similar occasions but as a first time experience it was truly fabulous," she said with a big smile. "Did you sleep well?" "Reasonably well, The bed...." I think Debbie was about to describe the hotel room but I rudely interrupted to say, "I can imagine that you didn't get very much sleep at all. Did you?" My wife suddenly looked uneasy. "Has someone said something to you?" "What could anybody say, I don't know. Perhaps you do?" "What do you want me to say?" "I want you to answer truthfully with a Yes or No answer. Are you having an affair with John?" Even at that point I desperately hoped I would receive a negative answer but already it was obvious that guilty knowledge had got her rattled. Debbie looked unblinkingly into my eyes for a full minute and then said, "No, I'm not having an affair with him but I am giving him sex." "Why?" "He regards it as part of my job and now I think of it that way myself." "You mean you do it reluctantly? "The very first time I was reluctant at the start but now I do it willingly. I enjoy it," my wife told me honestly. "How long has it been going on?" "The first week I worked for John he slapped my bottom a few times and told me how much he wanted to fuck me but I wrote that off as just male behaviour. The next week he came in from having been at the dispatch box and just dropped his trousers. His cock was sticking out all rigid and angry looking and he said come over here and suck this for me. I told him I wasn't going to suck anything so he said, 'Then use your hand woman, I can't even fucking walk until this thing goes soft.' So I did what he ordered and soon decided that he has a very nice cock indeed." Debbie paused to choose her words before continuing, "After I had cleaned up he said that when he got that kind of erection he needed to stick it in me and if I wasn't willing to accommodate him he'd throw me back in the pool and I could say goodbye to my fast-track career. John told me I had been employed to help him and as far as he was concerned looking after his needs was an essential part of my duties. I thought about it and what I stood to lose so next time he wanted sucking off I did what he asked and found that I really enjoyed doing it. A few days after that he bent me over the desk and fucked me." "Once a whore always a whore," I said bitterly. "My wife nodded. "That's fair," she said. "I do service John with the same attitude I used as an escort. I told you that I only opened my legs for the punters I felt attracted to but I've got to admit that the thought of the money made a few of them seem a lot more attractive than they really were." "So how many times have you been with him over the last six months?" "Every night but one that I spent away from home John fucked me at least once and each week in the office I gave him two or three blowjobs but sometimes he wanted a quickie instead." "What about the three times that he rang you at home and you went out again?" "One of those was a genuine government crisis but another time he booked us into a grotty hotel. The last occasion he just needed a blowjob and had his driver take us round the streets until I had my mouthful of cum. I wasn't away very long." I had to admire how closely she had skirted round the truth when explaining her absence at the time, 'He wanted me to do something for him urgently'. There was a vivid picture in my mind of what she described and this prompted a question, "Where did you spit it, the cum I mean?" Debbie did not hesitate. "I swallowed it, the way I always do with him." That really hurt because ever since very early in our relationship she had always spit out. We kept tissues in the bedroom just for that use. "Why do you swallow his cum and always spit mine out?" "There's no special significance. Your semen has a very strong bitter taste and I always had an upset stomach the next day where his has an almost sweet taste with no after affects. Anyway, I think he'd get angry if I spat his out." With no more questions there was a silence as I consulted my feelings. I had absorbed the fact that she had sold herself for money and had managed to put it in the past so there was no reason I couldn't do the same with this. The dominating fact was that I knew I could not bear to lose her. Speaking spontaneously I told my errant wife, "I will forgive you but on one condition. I can forget all about this as long as you promise that it will never happen again." I had expected a flood of gratitude but instead Debbie looked at me sadly, slowly shaking her head. "I don't think I can do that. For a start I don't think John would let me and even if he did it would mean the end of my career. Anyway I don't see why I should. I do enjoy doing it with him but that makes absolutely no difference to my love for you. It doesn't mean anything and I don't understand why you are so bothered by it. Can you name one way that me going with him affects our life together and before you say anything I'm going to tell John that he can't ring me at home again unless it is a genuine reason." There was one way I could name straight away, "Over the last six months you have knocked me back for sex several times which is something you never used to do. I now know that these must have been occasions when you had already been fucked by him earlier in the day. Can you deny that?" A Parliamentary Private Secretary "No I can't deny it but that need never happen again. When we make love you always start off by using your tongue on me and I couldn't let you lick down there in case there was still some of John's cum inside me. If you just wanted to fuck there wouldn't have been a problem because you would have just assumed I was extra wet. Now you know the reason, I only need to tell you to skip the oral bit for a night." "What is his hold on you?" I asked dispiritedly. "Is his cock is bigger than mine?" "It's about an inch longer but quite a bit thicker. It is also always very stiff where yours can sometimes be a bit bendy." "Is it just that or is he a better lover as well?" "He's not a lover at all in the way you are but he is very dynamic. He puts every bit of energy into everything thing he does. Sometimes in the commons he just puts his head down like a bull charging a barn door but usually he gets the result he wants. All I can say is that he's just like that in bed." "Does he make you cum more than me?" "No, you give me more orgasms but you usually manage that by licking me." I felt the bitter taste of defeat because by my standards I had already lost her whether we continued to live together or not. "I'm sorry," I told her. "You've been very honest, perhaps too honest, but I can't share you. I'm going to move my stuff into the spare bedroom until I can find somewhere else to live." "But I still love you. You don't know how much," Debbie said plaintively as I got up and headed for the door. I turned to say, "I still love you and I probably always will but I'm going to see a lawyer about a divorce. "Who did tell you about John and me, I don't understand how anybody could know?" "Nobody told me. I saw you standing with him on the TV and I just knew. Call it intuition." My soon to be ex wife gave an ironic laugh. "So you had no proof." "I didn't need proof. I knew that I only had to ask you in the right way and you would tell me." For the next few days we existed round each other, only speaking when necessary. Since Debbie made her big revelation we had lived so much in the present that thoughts about her past rarely entered my mind. That had now changed because, lying in my solitary bed at night, I was treated to a recurring vision. In it my wife is in a hotel room with her boss's huge cock down her throat and outside the door a line of faceless men, all waiting for their turn, stretches down the street and round the corner. That picture alone left me impervious to the sounds of sobbing from the next room. After five days, as I crossed the underground car park two large unsmiling men emerged from the darkness near my car. They displayed Special Branch IDs and told me I had to go with them. I protested my innocence and asked if I was under arrest but they would only say that somebody important wanted to talk to me. At a signal a limousine pulled up and I was bundled into the back seat to be taken on a journey across London. I caught a glimpse of Big Ben and soon after the vehicle stopped in another car park below street level. From there I was taken up in a lift and along a short corridor with a heavy loosely holding each of my arms. My two escorts stood me in front of closed double doors and then took up position on either side. I stepped forward and pushed open the doors without knocking. Directly ahead of me was a large ornate wooden desk and behind it sat a toad of a man. He was thickset with a pugilist's face and a significant paunch or beer belly. As I walked forward his face split into a smile or rather a smirk and raising a glass of whiskey invited, "Drink?" I shook my head. "I'll pour you one anyway; you're probably going to need it. Sit yourself down," he instructed. The chair he pointed to was just in front of the desk but I chose to ignore the order. Remaining on my feet I placed myself just behind the chair. "Do you know who I am?" "You're the bastard who's poking my wife." He laughed. "I've been called that before." "I bet you have. What else would you call yourself?" This seemed to amuse him. "There are many ways I could describe myself but I think the term 'alpha male' is as good as any. His posture was arrogant and it was obvious that he considered himself impregnable. There seemed little point in a battle of words so I asked bluntly, "What do you want? Why have you had me brought here?" "I hear that you want a divorce." "So the slut has told you already, I bet she can't wait to get rid of me." "On the contrary, she asked me to start leaving her alone. I refused so she threatened to give notice if I wouldn't put our relationship onto a proper business footing." He paused to let this sink in and then said, "I got my cock out and asked her to reconsider." "And one glance at your stupendous organ had her grovelling at your feet," I said, completing the anecdote for him. "How little you know your wife. It was not an easy decision for her but after a couple of minute's consideration she insisted on her resignation going through." My hopes soared at this point but then he went on to say," I asked her not to be precipitate and to think about it for a couple of days. I also promised to use that time to have words with you to see if anything could be arranged. After I said that, she sucked me off and here we are." "You can have your 'words' with me but I warn you now that I won't agree to any arrangement." "You have put your wife, Debra into an intolerable position. On the one hand she can't get enough of the kind of sexing I give her but on the other hand she loves you very much and doesn't want to lose you. At the moment her love for you is slightly the stronger but she's hoping that I can convince you to let her have both." "Why should I when it appears that I have won?" "You haven't thought this through. Put aside the fact that I am a very vindictive man and don't take well to losing, place yourself in your wife's mind after she has thrown away her job. She will resent you for the sex she'll miss and she might even eventually come to hate you for making her sacrifice a possibly glittering career." "Then you can have her." "I don't want her. I've already got a wife but I also want to borrow yours as the need arises." "Use her you mean." "If that's how you want to think of it. What's the harm? Apart from being in your head, the private time Debra spends with me hardly impacts on your life." "But it is in my head and as long as I know you are putting your filthy hands on her it will stay there," I said angrily. "You need to look at this from a different perspective," John said, in what was for him a reasonable tone of voice. "Its how the system works and it is how it has been for thousands of years. The Roman Emperor Caligula used to chose the wife of one of his dinner guests and take her into another room for an hour or so, leaving the husband sitting at the table." "He was a madman." "Then what about British kings, there were very few that didn't bed the wives of their subjects, Henry VIII was notorious for it. With royalty involved the cuckolds had it rough because while the king was ploughing their wives the husbands had to stay off the plot completely, to ensure that any seed planted could only be royal seed. Even so, the husbands went along with it and many were rewarded with titles and land. Throughout history lesser men have regarded it as a privilege to share their wives with somebody powerful." "And you think I should feel the same?" "I don't see why not. I served as chief whip for a number of years and knew all the dirt. Believe me, the house of commons is one huge knocking shop. There were literally hundreds of infidelities but none of those husbands rocked the boat so why should you?" "Perhaps because I am another alpha male." He gave a loud disparaging laugh. "No way. If you were alpha you'd be fucking other men's women not throwing your rattle out of the pram because somebody is putting his cock inside your lovely wife." Only the knowledge of the heavies outside the door prevented me leaping over the desk and planting my fist in the smug bastard's fat face. Up until meeting John I was still prepared to forgive Debbie's infidelity as long as she stopped being a whore for her boss but now I was not so sure. Had he turned out to be a good looking hunk I might have understood better but this was a literal case of the beauty and the beast. Now after meeting him I felt she had been contaminated by his touch. "If that is all you have to say, can I leave now?" I said proudly. "I haven't even started so why don't you park your butt because; given your attitude this could take a long time." Without any real alternative I sat, resolved to let his words just wash over me until he had finished. He continued, "I had hoped we could talk this through as reasonable men and come to some equitable agreement But it seems that the only way to persuade you is to point out the harsh facts of life." I sat sullenly gazing at a neutral spot across the room but this show of disinterest did not stop him from saying, "I intend to keep on being serviced by Debra and I'm willing to play dirty to ensure that." "But why her," I burst out, "With so many women to chose from why pick her when you must have known she was very happily married?" "Because I can is the short answer. She is also one of the best looking females I have ever met and it was easy to tell that she was also the type of woman who loves sex, but you must have known that. The key was that she's very ambitious and ambitious women can always be tempted with the right inducements. From the moment I first saw your wife I decided I was going to have her and her love for you didn't come into the equation." "You are evil," I told him, appalled by his total cynicism. "Not evil, just doing what comes naturally, playing the power game. It's the pecking order, you are lower in the food chain and so I peck you by fucking your wife. Without any complaint from her I may add." "It is wilfully destroying my marriage and that has to be evil in anybodies book." "How you react is nothing to do with me. If you weren't so short-sighted there is no reason why your marriage should be harmed at all. Debra has enough sex in her to keep us both satisfied. Hell, if she hadn't told you I could have kept on grabbing my share from the top of the sack without you ever knowing. All I need is the odd blow-job in the office and a decent fuck or two whenever she travels somewhere with me. She would not be home at those times anyway so you can't claim that I impinge on her time with you." "If there's a little sex as you claim why go to all these lengths?" I was genuinely puzzled. "Because there are occasions when I need sexual release urgently and at those times I don't want to be ringing round to find a female who is available. It's far more convenient to have Debra at hand, on the payroll so to speak." "If you need release that badly why don't you do it yourself?" He laughed. "Lad, I haven't pulled my own wire for years and I don't intend to start now to spare your feelings. Instead you are going to go home and tell your wife that you no longer want a divorce. There is a chance that she might still want to resign but you will persuade her not to. You'll tell her that you and I have come to an arrangement that you are happy with. The terms will be that the pair of you will continue to live contentedly together, as you always have, but my needs will take priority where and whenever they occur." "Like hell I will, fuckpig." He only smirked. "I could call the officers in to instruct you on the correct way to address a cabinet minister but I will let it go this time. Rather than watch you being chastised I will take the time to make you realise that it is very much in your own interest to grant me unfettered access to your wife's cunt. If my information is correct you are employed in the defence industry (he named the firm that I worked for). You are highly thought of but cannot advance any higher until an account comes available which means you are essentially waiting for dead means shoes." "How do you know that?" He had given other information (not mentioned above) that I knew Debbie was unaware of." John lifted a heavy folder up from his desk and let it fall with a thud. "I know everything there is to know about you. I also know that your firm has a government contract that is almost due for renewal and that it represents a large proportion of the firm's income." "About a third." "38.5% to be precise. Now suppose that for some reason that contract was not renewed, what kind of impact do you think that would have on the firm especially as some of your other customers would follow the contract?" "There would be a lot of redundancies for sure." "But you are confident that you would be retained because there are many who would get the chop before you." I found myself nodding confirmation. "Now suppose that the firm discovered that you and you alone were the reason they lost the contract, how highly would they regard you then?" He paused for effect as I stared at him in horror as the scenario unfolded in my mind. "Imagine it also being known that you were under investigation as a security risk. You could be arrested and held incommunicado for twenty-eight days during which time you might easily think of something to confess. It would not matter because by that time the contents of your hard disc would be enough to condemn you." "But there's nothing on my hard disc that shouldn't be there." He delivered the coup de grace. "Believe me there will be. Which would you prefer, a paedophile's horde of images or details of your incriminating contacts with a radical terrorist group." Blindly I reached for the whiskey glass and swallowed the contents in one gulp. John waited and the silence grew until I pleaded helplessly, "You win. Just let me out. I'll walk away, no divorce. Debbie can keep everything." "That's not good enough. If you just move out, sooner or later someone is going to start wondering why you left and tying it in with the fact of your wife starting to work for me, so I need you to continue living together. I don't want a scandal." For a moment I thought I saw a way to fight back. "If I go to the newspapers and tell them of this conversation there will certainly be a scandal then." John was unperturbed. "You have no proof and even if you had I would simply issue a D-notice and there isn't a paper that would dare to publish. No, the danger to me is innuendo in gossip columns, that does the damage and that's what I want to prevent. There's no alternative, you have to stay at home and make the best of it for a couple of years until the next general election. You never know, once you get used to the situation it might not seem so bad." "I very much doubt that. I will agree to your terms because I've no choice but I will never be happy about it." "I believe in using both carrot and stick but admit I'm far better with the stick. However, there is an inducement I can offer that might make you more willing to play along in the right frame of mind. I don't want you working on your wife's head and making her feel bad about going with me. Your firm's main rival Sherwood's also has a government contact due for renewal in fifteen months. Now if you have been good up until then I could switch that contract to your lot, with the stipulation that you have to be the account executive." The £ signs started buzzing in my head because that represented a massive leap in remuneration. At my present level salary increases came in thousands where directors got theirs in tens of thousands. When I got home, Debbie was just finishing preparing a meal. "You're late," she said. "You're boss had me picked up outside work by a couple of his official thugs." My wife did not seem surprised. "What did he want to see you about?" "He convinced me that divorcing you was not a good idea." Debbie gave a relieved smile but I went on quickly to say, "He did that by threatening to ruin both me and the firm I work for." I went on to repeat everything that would happen to me if I refused. "He can be a real bastard," Debbie said without seeming to think any less of him because of it. "I also agreed that he can continue fucking you whenever he pleases and that I won't do anything to rock the boat." "So we can go back to how we were before you found out?" "In your dreams," I spat out. "I will keep living with you and doing everything he demands but I'm certainly not touching his leavings with a ten foot pole. You will have to make to with just his cock from now on and if that isn't enough you can always go back to escort work on the side." I intended to hurt her and I succeeded but when I had cooled down I greatly regretted it. Next day I apologised saying, "I'm still not going to sleep with you but I should not have said what I did. We are both locked in a situation and the only way through it is to continue being pleasant with each other." My wife's face lit up and she moved as if to come and kiss me but then stopped herself. Instead she said, "I'm glad, I enjoy just being with you when you're nice and we can continue living quite happily together even though you don't want to have sex with me anymore." For the next three weeks, apart from not sleeping together, we slipped back into our old life. We laughed together, enjoyed watching TV together and I even found myself touching her affectionately but abstaining from sex did begin to become more and more difficult. Part of the problem was that I had gone quite a long time without sexual release and I refused to masturbate. Debbie always was extremely desirable but she seemed to be putting on an erotic show for my benefit. For example, she stopped wearing jeans and during the evening watching TV, her long legs on display across the room were a constant distraction from the screen. I was permanently sexually aware and my arousal rose to fever pitch the times that I knew she had had sex with him. When there had been some encounter at work I could tell from her face immediately she got home and when she was with him for couple of days, for the whole time she was absent I was in a terrible state with my mind filled by fevered images of them copulating. These caused painful rigidity in my cock but perversely also stiffened my resolve not to weaken. The phone was harbinger of a new development. I answered and immediately recognised John's voice. "My wife is out in the garden. I'll fetch her," I told him. "Don't bother; it's you I want to speak with," he said. "You don't seem to have much interest in that Sherwood bonus we spoke about." "I don't know what you mean, I've done everything you asked." "Except that your wife says you're refusing to fuck her. Don't get me wrong, in one way that suits me because it makes her even hotter for what I give her but I do worry about what you are doing instead. I'm ringing to warn you that there can't be any bits on the side or hiring whores. For the next couple of years you've got to either stay celibate or get your rocks off with Debra." "You mean fuck the whore I married," I said bitterly. "Naughty, naughty," he said laughing, "Just keep thinking about the Sherwood contract." My wife walked in just as I was replacing the telephone receiver. ""That was your lover, wanting to know why we still sleep in separate bedrooms," I told her angrily. "How the hell do you expect me to start feeling better about you and him when you seem to have a need to tell him every fucking detail of our marriage?" Debbie burst into tears. "You've got it all wrong," she sobbed. "I didn't deliberately tell him. I tried to resign again. I said I knew I was losing you because you wouldn't sleep with me and didn't even kiss me any more. I told him I would rather give up my career rather than lose your love." A Parliamentary Private Secretary She could no longer get through to me that easily. "Without me bothering you, don't you have more energy for his special kind of fucking? What was the word you used, dynamic?" "I can't deny that I enjoy doing it with him but all he does is fuck me or stick his cock in my mouth, I don't think he knows any other way. You can fuck when it's the right time to fuck but you also know how to make love and that's what I miss." Knowing that my wife had found a chink in my armour I cut the conversation short. That day was the second of a heat wave that was to last for another week, parliament was in recess and I also had several days free from work. It was extremely hot with the result that Debbie was always very scantily dressed, so after two or three day's exposure to her delectable body, you can imagine the effect on me. A night came when I lay uncovered in bed, sweating profusely with my throbbing penis pointing up at the ceiling and trying hard not to touch it. A sudden noise drew my attention to the door to see Debbie standing leaning against the jamb. She was completely naked except for a film of perspiration. Her breasts thrust out seeming unusually full and her vulva appeared swollen like that of a primate in estreus. With a shaking voice she said, "I'm sure you want me and I know I want you so why are we doing this to each other. I need you so desperately, please make love to me." The next moment my cock was inside her where it ached to be and we were fucking as if there was no tomorrow. It was frantic, it was fast and I ejaculated massive amounts but for the first time ever my cock remained stiff and we continued with tender leisurely lovemaking that lasted for hours. When we eventually slowed to a halt I accepted that, even though she would continue having sex with him, I could not manage without her. With that decided I felt that I should more fully understand the situation. "What exactly attracts you to him," I asked gently. "He is at least twenty years older than you and to my eyes he's fat, ugly and obnoxious?" Debbie smiled, "That's true and I don't actually like him very much. I don't admire his egotism and his nastiness but I do admire his energy, the way he gets important things done and the fact that he's got a phenomenal memory. Apart from that, although he is not physically attractive he has got a kind of aura but I'm not sure if that is a personal trait or just the power that he wields." She thought a bit longer and then said. "It could be the place. At times the House of Commons is a mixture of bear pit and gladiatorial combat with the result that there is a whole lot of adrenaline and testosterone about. It's why so many top people have been caught out by sex like Paddy Ashdown, Geoffrey Archer, Jonathon Aitken, David Blunkett, John Prescott and Robin Cook. Then there are the ones where it is only revealed years later like Edwina Currie and John Major. There are almost certainly dozens more but the whips are very good at covering up indiscretions." "That does explain the attraction but I still don't understand the pleasure that you admit he gives you," I said cautiously. "Excitement," she said, without needing to think. "And I don't?" "Of course you do but it's a different kind of excitement. More importantly you always leave me feeing contented and he doesn't even come close. I far prefer what you give me but I don't really see why I can't have both." This triggered a thought I had had before. "I think your time as an escort has possibly distorted your ideas on sex." Debbie agreed. "You may be right; I don't understand why so much stress is put on exclusivity. If something gives pleasure and doesn't cause harm then I can't see a reason not to do it -- and that applies to you just as much as to me." For some reason that I still don't understand that single sentence eased my mind more than any other. We made love every night and often during the day but on the last night of the holiday, as I started my caresses Debbie asked, "Why don't you lick me anymore like you used to?" "Because I don't want to put my tongue where his he has squirted his cum," I said simply. "But I haven't been near him for over a week." "That doesn't make any difference." "Isn't that a bit illogical?" Debbie argued. "It's a bit like refusing to drive down a certain stretch of road because a fatal accident once happened there." That was true and I suddenly recognised another illogicality in the fact that I had no problem kissing her. With a mental block magically removed, I moved quickly down her body and the moment my tongue touched her sweet slit it felt as if I had never been away. It was pure delicious joy, sheer heaven and possibly the most pleasurable activity in my life. For the next year our lovemaking became exactly as it had been before I discovered her infidelity. At the start, her continuing to go with him did cause me some mental problems but over time it became far easier. It got so that I could happily perform oral on her when she had been with him just the night before and the only time I skipped doing it was when Debbie warned me that he had cum inside her earlier in the day. On those occasions I soon learned to tell how recently that had been by the relative silkiness of her cunt when I put my cock in her. At the end of that period, Debbie arrived home from work one night to announce, "John has invited us both to spend the weekend at his place in the country and meet his wife. He said that he's planning to reallocate an important government contract and he wants to discuss it with you." On the face of it this was good news because it suggested that John was not going to renege on his promise concerning the Sherwood contract but something about the invitation left me feeling uneasy. I didn't really see that there was anything to discuss. There was also something else bothering me. I had only met John the once and had never really seen him and Debbie together so my mental defence over the past year had been to pretend that whatever happened between them was in a separate compartment of her life. The danger was that if I witnessed them interacting then my hard won peace of mind might crumble away. The saving grace was that, with John's own wife present, I could convince myself that nothing was likely to occur. The 'place in the country' turned out to be a mansion standing in extensive manicured grounds. We were admitted by a butler and shown into a large sitting room where John and his wife Barbara were waiting. She was tall and elegant with shoulder length rich auburn hair and it was obvious that in her younger days she must have been a very beautiful woman. After introductions, as we sat I made a complimentary remark about the impressive house but Barbara gave a little laugh and explained, "It isn't ours, it's a grace and favour residence that comes with John's job." He had remained standing and now he beckoned to Debbie saying, "Come with me, I want to show you the upstairs." I started standing to follow but stopped when he said, "No, you stay and keep Barbara company, this won't take very long." As they left I glanced over at Barbara but she only shrugged. "Have you known John long?" I asked hoping to hide how awkward I felt. "We've been married for thirty-three years," she said. "We met when he was still a shop steward. John isn't a scholar like you, he got into politics via the unions and that doesn't happen much any more." I couldn't think of another question and had rather hoped Barbara would keep the conversation going but she seemed to be waiting. For something to do I gazed out the window pretending to admire the garden but after several minutes, just as I had resolved that I had to say something there was the unmistakeable sound of a bed creaking from directly over head. This quickly built up into a steady fast rhythm and nobody could be in any doubt that it was the sound of a couple fucking. Very embarrassed I sat with gritted teeth staring straight ahead. After a couple of loud squeals of pleasure, Barbara asked sympathetically, "How are you coping with John and your wife?" "I'm managing," I said, although right at that moment I didn't feel that I was. "Has he done this before?" I thought to ask. "For almost all of our thirty-three years together." "Don't you mind?" "At the start it hurt a lot and I hoped he would change but now it doesn't really bother me except at times like this." "Why do you put up with it?" Even as I spoke I realised that she could ask me the same question. "I love him and it's part of the kind of man he is. He also loves me in his own way. There have been a lot of highs along the way to compensate but my husbands main problem is that he doesn't do tender. My secret is that for the last twenty years I have had a friend of my own called Bill, and he gives me all the tenderness I need. I always come back to this country whenever John needs me but most of the time I live in France with Bill. John and I have a kind of symbiotic arrangement, I give him stability and a respectable background and in return he's very generous with money." "So you are content?" "On balance yes except when John pulls a stunt like this in front of me. He must be making a point and I'm afraid it has to be directed at you. There are other bedrooms he could have used, all with much quieter beds." "When your husband retires which one will you chose, him or Bill?" It was academic interest but I wanted to know." "I don't think John will live long enough to retire. He's overweight and still overeats, he smokes and drinks to excess and he is hyperactive. I think that is about the only exercise he ever gets," she said looking up at the ceiling. As she spoke, as if to illustrate her words, the activity above became more frenzied with the sound making further conversation almost impossible, so we sat and listened as, punctuated by several massive orgasms, they built up to the inevitable conclusion. The 'performing' pair appeared mere minutes after the action ceased. Debbie entered first and had the grace to blush furiously when she found Barbara's eyes on her. His face was equally scarlet but I think from his exertions rather than embarrassment. He strode defiantly across the room and sat down. There was an awkward silence until Barbara asked Debbie and me in turn which universities we had attended and reciprocated by telling about her own place of higher learning some thirty odd years ago. Then she volunteered the information, "John didn't go to university, he claims that he learned at the University of Life instead. That may be true but I believe that it has far lower academic standards, don't you?" I tried to suppress a snigger at the jibe but Barbara hadn't finished. "My parents didn't want me to marry him you know. They said that I could do far better for myself but you have only to look round this place to see that was not completely true." I don't know if John intended to respond but at that moment the butler entered to announce that dinner was served. We all filed into the dining room and for a time were too busy eating to talk. The food was to gourmet standard and it was delicious. When conversation restarted Barbara ensured that we stayed on university topics and whenever her husband tried to change the subject she had a ready put down such as 'John, nobody wants to talk about that now." I watched with pleasure as he got more and more frustrated. My image of Barbara as a long-suffering wife needed radical adjustment. Suddenly she stood saying, "Come on Deb, it's time to leave to men to their port and cigars. My husband does like to live out his pretensions." The moment they had left the room John snarled at me, "And you can wipe that smirk off your face for a start. I was going to talk to about the Sherwood contract but now you can bloody well wait until tomorrow." He poured two glasses of port and ungraciously tossed me a cigar then sat morosely smoking until the grandfather clock in the corner struck ten. When he stood I followed his lead, at which point he turned and instructed, "When you get to your room, wait ten minutes and then send Debra to me I'm two doors along the corridor. I've decided that there's some leftover business that I want to deal with." I waited until we were in the room where our overnight bags had been left before telling Debbie that her presence was required elsewhere. She did not seem at all perturbed at being dragged from my side and just kept checking her watched until the prescribed ten minutes had elapsed then headed out with the cheerful assurance, "This shouldn't take very long." I undressed and got into bed with the torment of knowing that by now she would be with him. But this was nothing new because many times over the past year I had lain alone, very aware of the fact that somewhere, at that very moment, John was in the process of fucking the woman I loved. During that year I had learned to cope so why wasn't I coping now? One difference had been the afternoon. Listening to rampant rutting in surround sound from directly overhead, the sex was not just in my mind, it had been all too real. I knew now that enduring that humiliation had had a greater impact on me than I had realised. And this time in that nearby room, they were not fornicating at some unknown location, he had his grotesque cock up inside her only twenty yards from where I lay. For some reason this combination of mental imagery and intense sexual arousal sent me into a kind of sexual hyper state. Her 'not very long' turned into an hour and a quarter and I was almost going crazy when Debbie eventually skipped across the room and slipped into bed to snuggle her naked body up against mine. I kissed her hair and then each of her breasts causing small moans of contentment but when I started to move my head further down she panicked. Locking her hands under my chin to prevent further movement she said urgently, "You can't do that, he's just cum inside me, less than two minutes ago." Grabbing her hands I roughly prised them lose saying, "I don't care. I want to do it, I need to." There was a momentary struggle but then she relaxed, spreading her legs to give me easier access. As my face got lower, I was first aware of the heat radiating from her groin and when my probing tongue touched the skin near her vulva it felt feverishly hot. There was no sensation indicating the presence of semen until my tongue slipped inside the lips of her vulva and then it came flooding out as if it had been waiting for my touch to unlock the gates. There was no special taste and what there was not unpleasant but the texture seemed like a strange mixture of custard and glycerine. The effect of my oral ministrations on Debbie was dramatic. She locked her heels behind my head, ground her clitoris against my nose and urged, "Yes, Yes, suck it all out of me." Within seconds she was trembling all over and as I continued, the passionate cries caused by her massive orgasms must have echoed throughout the house. Some time later when I finally put my cock inside her I ejaculated immediately but she held me in place on top of her. At first entry, due to her stretched state of her cunt I had very little sensation of contact but now, somehow she managed to grip my softening penis with vaginal muscles and effectively milk me to another erection. The ensuing session of sensually making love lasted for many hours into the night. During a lull I asked how it felt to have sex with two men within minutes of each other. "I've actually had two at the same time," she said. "When I was a working girl one of my favourite regulars recommended his best friend and he became a regular too. Then they both took me away for a long weekend and afterwards clubbed together to buy the necklace that I wore at the state banquet. Later that year one of them got me the matching earrings after a holiday in Monte Carlo." Later as I lay waiting for sleep, with the heat gone from my brain, at first I was disgusted by what I had done. But then I rationalised that countless millions of women regularly ingested male cum so it certainly wasn't toxic therefore the only block on one man swallowing another man's semen had to be mental. I had overcome that barrier and that gave me a great deal of extra freedom. It meant that what I wanted to do was no longer constrained by his prior activities. I felt confident that I could now handle anything Debbie's lover threw at me but I no longer saw any point in looking forward to the end of their association because I was resigned to the fact that my wife would probably always find reasons to fuck other men. Next morning I woke in an empty bed and on going downstairs found John eating alone in the breakfast room. In expansive mood he waved me in saying, "The girls have gone out picking fruit so we can have that chat postponed from last night." Pausing only to go and refill his plate he went on, "The Sherwood contract is all arranged and only awaits my signature but before I get round to that there's a small favour I want you to do for me." I definitely did not like the sound of that but I still enquired what I could to help. "Next week it's the annual party conference at Blackpool," he said. "Last year I went alone and it was murder so this time I intend to take Debra with me for the week." I did not like it but I reckoned I could manage for five days without my wife. "I don't see where I come in?" I told him. "At the conference the paparazzi hunt in packs and the first things they check is hotel registers to see who has a room next to who. They'd clock on to me and Debra straight away so I need you there as well to cover for me. We will still have adjoining rooms but officially you will be booked in with your wife. You can of course sleep there at night but during the day I don't want you around. There is always the Pleasure Beach and you can get your pleasure there, ride on the bumper cars or something." When I told Debbie about the arrangement, 'That should be fun,' was her only comment. During that week I passed the days quite pleasantly strolling along the seafront in the warm September sunshine. On only one day did wind and rain force me to seek refuge back at the hotel and there I split my time between the bar and lounge. Twice I spotted John and Debbie in the lobby when they popped out of the conference and found it more difficult than anticipated watching them walk to the lifts together. Every evening, even though they had sex at least once every day, at nine o'clock Debbie went through the connecting door to return up to two hours later, full of cum and eager to give me my share. One time, in her keenness to be with him, Debbie left the connecting door open. I looked at it for several minutes but could not resist the temptation to peek. The obscene sight that met my eyes was his red, admittedly impressive, penis sticking out from under a substantial belly with my lovely wife slobbering over it as if it was attached to a veritable Adonis. I should have retired quickly but, knowing I could not be seen, something kept me rooted to the spot. My wife was a beautiful, self assured and successful woman, the perfect role model for female liberation so I could not believe how submissive she was to him. He gave her frequent slaps that she apparently enjoyed, not playful taps but full bodied slaps that left vivid scarlet handprints on the creamy skin of her buttocks and when they fucked it was brutal, as if the word 'gentle' didn't exist in his vocabulary. I have said before that during sex my only motivation was to give her pleasure but during what I stood and witnessed that was completely reversed. Two weeks later at work I was informed that I had been made a director with an important account to administer. My salary more than doubled. A few days afterwards, when driving home I was flagged down by the police and escorted to the outskirts of Hyde Park where John's limousine was waiting. I assumed that he wanted to talk about the contract but immediately I clambered into the back with him he said, "I won't beat about the bush, Debra is pregnant." A Parliamentary Private Secretary "But how?" I gasped "Her birth pills were duff. I've already had an enquiry and the firm admits they knew about the faulty batch but because only a few thousand pills were involved out of many millions they decided to say nothing. They say it should mean less than a hundred extra births and that won't even show on the failure statistics." "Why did Debbie tell you and not me," I asked unhappily. "Because she didn't want you to know," he said bluntly. "Debra hoped that I could arrange a quick very secret abortion but I don't think it is right to kill your child without you having a say in the matter." "It might be yours." John shook his head. "It's your child and there is no reason for anyone to think any different. Don't worry, I'm not going to do a Blunkett* on you, in fact if you decide to do your own DNA test, I won't cooperate. Babs and I don't have any kids and it might help your decision to know that I have always been completely infertile." Afterwards Over the next few weeks John stopped having intercourse with Debbie but she continued sucking him off and giving hand-jobs throughout the pregnancy. When our son was born, immediately after birth I thought his red screwed up face looked a bit pugilistic but a nurse assured me that most brand new babies tended to look a bit like that. The global credit crunch killed the long time feel good factor and created great public dissatisfaction in the country. Some old government errors came home to roost and there were also some big new ones, with the result that over the space of little more than a year the Labour party went from virtually unassailable to almost unelectable. Inevitably at the general election the Conservatives won. Debbie and John both lost their parliamentary seats but while he was immediately ennobled into the Lords, Debbie simply became unemployed. Fortunately within weeks she was head hunted and offered a salary only marginally less than mine. Eighteen months later John suddenly collapsed with a seizure and was on life support for over a month. He survived but was left substantially paralysed. A newspaper report said that John's wife of thirty-six years was devoting herself to being his full time carer but that Bill Walsh, an old family friend, had sold up his home in France and come back to the UK to help her. I indulged in an ironic smile at this poetic justice but that smile quickly disappeared when, further down the page, I read, 'An elegant Lady Barbara said she regretted never having had offspring, blaming a bad miscarriage early in the marriage that had left her unable to have children.' * David Blunkett, while UK Home Secretary, had an affair of three years duration with an American married woman called Kimberly Quinn. During the course of the affair she gave birth to a son and was again pregnant when she ended the affair. Believing that he was the biological father of both, Blunkett sued for and was granted DNA tests. He was proved correct about the first child but not the second, however this did not stop him successfully seeing for regular access. The couple are still together.