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Star Quality

By: Britease



Bit of a long story this one, but I know most of you lot don't like strung out chapters as a rule. So get yourself a nice drink and settle down. No hard sex here I'm afraid, and it's even got a happy ending, so you've been warned.

++++++++++++ 

It all started out as a fairly ordinary evening ------- a few drinks at the bar at one of the hotels in town, then on for a meal and then home.

It was something that Jill, my lovely young wife and I did every couple of weeks or so, though we'd pushed the boat out a bit that night and gone to somewhere a bit posher than normal. Maybe the way that Jill dressed for that night might have given me some clue, but then she always looked fantastic.

Jill always dressed nice and had the body for it. Breasts too small for many guys choice, but what she had was firm and shapely, like the two juicy plump pears sticking out from her slim body, her long nipples like stalks, only adding to the impression. The advantage for me of having a girl like that was that a bra was pretty well superfluous, and the single one that she owned, she very seldom wore.

And not that her boobs looked out of proportion either, Jill being five foot four or so, with a slender frame, not skinny or anything, but always felt so tiny and fragile when I held her in my arms.

Her legs were maybe her best feature, again on the slim side, but very long with a nice shape to them, and looked fabulous in any form of high heel shoes. Some how Jill used those legs of hers to compensate for her lack of inches up top, her longest skirts seldom reaching more than half way down her thighs.

Then again ---- Oh boy ---- You should see what Jill could do to a pair of tight jeans.

No ---- My Jill was slim all right, but not skinny nor shapeless. Think of some of the top catwalk models, scale them down seven or eight inches in height, and there you have her ----- My wife Jill.

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

She hadn't always been so confident about her appearance, and when I'd first met her some years ago at a friend's house, all she ever wore were baggy jeans and an even more shapeless sweater.

Hiding it she was ----- ashamed of her tits, or lack of them that is, and doing her level best to camouflage what she did have.

I vaguely remember the next few times I ran into her, thinking that she had a pretty face, and that her hair looked nice in the pony tail that she habitually wore.

Quite sweet really.

But beyond that ----- Nothing, absolutely zilch ------ Hardly even remembered her name.

Then one weekend we all went swimming at the local baths. Nothing special, no sunbathing or anything, just a few hours swimming up and down, and playing around a little.

There were six girls there that day, five in bikinis and Jill. She wore a modest one piece that her grandmother could have worn, but even so, it couldn't hide from my eyes what her baggy clothes had been carefully covering up for the previous few months.

She was really rather gorgeous!

OK ---- very slim ------ Maybe too slim if you like your women curvaceous, but never skinny, her toned body being too shapely for that.

I couldn't take my eyes off her. I couldn't believe it was the same woman.

"Seen something you like Glen," asked my best friend's wife Wendy, grinning at me knowingly.

"Eh ---- Well ---- I never realised she was so ---- Well ----- So ........."

"I know what you mean Glen," went on Wendy. "I wish I was as slim as that, and had a body like that, but she keeps it hidden. She's a damn fool."

"Oh you're not too bad Wendy," I said, putting my foot in it somewhat. "That is, what I mean is ....."

"I know what you mean Glen," Wendy told me laughing at my embarrassment. "I'm not your sort, but don't worry some guys love big busty girls like me, and fortunately my hubby is one of them."

I grinned at her, nodding my head in agreement, thankful that she'd let me off the hook.

"Go and talk to her Glen," Wendy suggested. "Jill hasn't been out with any men for far too long."

"Jill?" I repeated, slightly ashamed that I hadn't even remembered her name, even though I'd been in her company a number of times already. "Hasn't got a boy friend you say."

"She had a long term guy that she went out with for years," carried on my personal matchmaker. "Her and John went out together when they were at school, and it just carried on."

"What happened?" I asked, any bit of information on Jill being of interest to me at that point.

"He got fed up because he couldn't get into her pants," explained Wendy quite matter of factly. "We all warned her ---- told her to loosen up but she wouldn't. Then she caught him one evening screwing some girl from where he worked in his car, and that was that."

"And she's never had another boyfriend then?" I queried cautiously.

"Not really," she replied, pulling a sad face. "Not to speak of."

"So she's still a virgin then?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

"Oh good God no Greg," Wendy cried out giggling. "She went barmy for six months after that. Gave herself to anyone who so much as spoke to her nicely ---- became a proper slut for a while. I suppose it was her attempt at getting back at him."

"How sad." My heart sort of went out to her. "Then what?"

"She never told us, but I think she had a scare with some STD. Nothing serious you understand. Don't know if she actually caught it or not, but it gave her a jolt and she straightened herself out."

STD ---- Oh bloody hell! ---- That was a bit off putting, but Wendy saw my look of apprehension.

"Don't worry about the STD," She told me. "It's not uncommon you know. I've had it twice and I've got over it Greg. Just a matter of a few injections."

"Right ---- Yes -------- OK Wendy," I mumbled uncomfortably. 

What an eye opener! 

Maybe I should be a bit fussier about my friends in future. 

Didn't mean that I wasn't really taken with Jill though, and I made a point of being close up by her for the next half hour while we all frolicked in the pool.

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

Took me nearly two weeks to get around to actually asking her out, and when I did, her reaction surprised me.

"You Greg," she replied in obvious surprise. "You want me to go out with you?"

"That's what I just asked Jill," I happily reminded her. "What's wrong with me?"

"But you're ----- Well you're sort of ------ Well good looking and you've got a posh sports car and lot's of money. What do you want with a girl like me?"

"Ok," I replied, trying not to break out laughing. "I have got a sports car, and maybe if I didn't have it, then I might have plenty of money. I just fancy you Jill ---- What's so odd about that?"

"You mean it?" Jill asked me nervously. "You really fancy little me?"

"Of course I do," I shot back grinning.

"You're not just teasing me are you?" She asked, apprehensively.

"No Jill," I told her taking her hand in mine. "You're an attractive girl. Why shouldn't I fancy you?"

"But I'm so skinny," she whined. "I've got no boobs or anything. Men just don't fancy me."

"You're not, you have and I do."

Seemed to sum up her objections, and as the significance of my answer dawned on her, a smile broke out on her face that just about melted my heart.

I guess looking back that it was that very moment that I started to fall in love with my future wife Jill.

"You won't let me down will you?" She asked quietly.

"Never," I replied, and I really meant it.

"I've been let down by a number of guys in my life."

"I promise," I assured her.

"Ok then Greg," Jill accepted my offer, grinning more happily than I think I had ever seen her till then.

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

Our courtship was fantastic, and by the way I did discover that the STD thing was simply a scare. Not that it would have made any difference to me by then, but none the less it was a bit of a relief.

The first date we had, I had no idea what she'd turn up in, hoping however that it was something better than baggy jeans and a sweat shirt.

She made an effort.

As I sat there in the pub waiting for her to turn up, I was pleasantly surprised to see her walk in wearing a quite nice pair of slacks, and a top that though it didn't show her off at all, at least wasn't baggy and shapeless. She'd also put on just a trace of make up, something else that I'd never seen her wear before. Quite expertly done as well, and I was later to discover that she'd worked during her college holidays for a make up company in the local department store.

Even more pleasing was quite how well we got on, and how many common interests we had. 

OK ---- She didn't actually support the Arsenal football club, but she had at least heard of them. Even knew the names of several of the players.

After dinner and a few drinks and a walk, hand in hand round town, I found myself at last, pulling up in front of her apartment block around midnight.

"Lovely car," Jill commented as I pulled my Porsche 911 to a halt.

"Thanks," I replied, grinning at her. We'd already established that Jill was really into nice cars, just like me, so her comment was no great surprise.

What my problem was that my mind was in some conflict. Jill seemed like some pretty innocent young girl, but on the other hand Wendy had told me about her somewhat lurid, if short past.

What did I do?

Kiss her chastely and go off on my way, risking that she'd think I was some kind of twerp?

Or insist that I accompanied her back to her flat; try to get inside her knickers and risk losing her altogether.

As it happened, I didn't have to make that decision.

"You going to take me out again?" Jill demanded rather seriously. "Or am I too plain for you to be seen out with?"

"You Jill," I went straight back, almost laughing. "Too plain? ----- You're a doll Jill. You're lovely."

"Other guys don't seem to think so," she responded a little sadly. "If I don't go to bed with them on the first date, then I never seem to get a second one. When I did let them, then they quickly lost interest."

I went to go back with a flippant remark, but at the last moment held back --- bit my tongue as it were.

"Maybe there's another reason Jill," I ventured thoughtfully. "You really don't make the most of yourself, do you?"

"What do you mean?" She asked with a puzzled expression.

I sighed deeply, wondering how to put it without upsetting her.

"Do you have any nice dresses Jill? I've never seen you in one."

I haven't really got any dresses Greg," she replied. "I don't wear them."

"How about skirts?"

She shook her head, commenting that she simply didn't feel comfortable in them.

"High heels?" I queried, but that just drew a laugh of derision.

"Why not?" I queried, but had to repeat the question and push her into giving me an answer.

"They're just not me Greg. I just don't feel comfortable."

I continued to encourage her, putting my arm round her shoulder as I did so. Jill happily snuggled up against me, but continued to avoid my questions. Our lips found one another's, and we kissed, simply. Not too much passion, no tongues, just a very pleasant little kiss.

I guess I judged it just about right for a first kiss.

"I'm too skinny for tight clothes and things Greg. And my legs are all sort of long and gangly, and I look awkward in skirts."

"Where did you get that idea from silly girl?" I smiled at her.

"People tell me," Jill mumbled quietly into my chest.

"What people?" I demanded.

"Oh just people," she replied in a whisper.

Now I'd seen Jill in a swimming costume recently, and though there was no denying that she was quite slender, there was no doubt that she had a lovely little body, and if she'd only show them off, a killer pair of legs.

"When was this Jill? Who keeps telling you you're so skinny?"

"Throughout school," Jill whispered back, her face still buried in my chest, her words hardly audible. "I had to wear a school uniform with a skirt and I hated it. It was just so embarrassing."

"At school?" I cried out in amazement.

"Yes ---- Some of them were horrible to me. Always saying I had matchstick legs and no tits. Flat as a pancake up top, they used to tease me. That was my nickname --- Pancake! They all called me pancake"

"Who?" I demanded. "Who used to tease you?"

"The other girls," she told me. "At least one gang of them did."

I could imagine the sort of 'gang' she was talking about. The one's who thought they were better than anyone else.

"What about the boys?" I tried.

"Weren't any," Jill sniffed, now on the point of crying. "I went to an all girls school."

I sat there with her in my arms, amazed how kid's cruelty could affect someone's life for so long.

"How long ago did you leave school Jill?" I had a pretty good idea, but wanted to make my point.

"Four years ago, nearly five," Jill admitted.

"And you still think you're a gangly schoolgirl do you?"

"Well," she answered, avoiding the question. "I'm not a schoolgirl any more."

"What about your boyfriend Jill? What did he say about you?"

"What boyfriend?" She asked, looking back up at me questioningly. "How did you know I had a boyfriend?"

"Wendy told me," I admitted. "Told me you went out with him for some time."

"Yes the bastard," she went on, the first tear slowly sliding it's way down her cheek. "Always telling me I had no tits, and that if I didn't go to bed with him, then he'd dump me."

"But you didn't did you," I encouraged her. "You held out."

"A lot of good it did me though Greg. I found he was seeing some big titted bitch from where he worked. So it was me that dumped him in the end."

Not quite the story I'd heard from Wendy, but near enough.

"Better off without him," I whispered into her ear, giving it a little lick as I did so. Jill shivered and cuddled up even closer to me. She felt so very nice in my arms --- So tiny --- so slender ----- So vulnerable ------- So feminine ---- So damn gorgeous.

"What else did Wendy tell you about me Greg?" Jill asked, the nervousness in her voice very obvious.

"Nothing much," I lied back to her. Little white lies hurt nobody, and I could keep that discussion for a later time.

We kissed again, this time with a little more passion, Jill shivering again as I ran the tip of my tongue sensually across her open lips. Threatening to enter, but teasingly not doing so.

"So you didn't answer my question Greg."

"What question was that Jill?" I said.

"Are we going out on another date again or not," she repeated.

"Definitely."

"Good."

"And I know what we're going to do as well," I went on confidently.

"Oh you do, do you? What's that?"

"We're going shopping," I informed her. "Saturday morning, we're going shopping."

Jill expressed her surprise, but I wouldn't be drawn further. I think she had some inkling, but she didn't let on. 

We continued to kiss and hold one another, and I became more and more convinced that this girl was going to feature prominently in my life. 

I stroked her back and she groaned in pleasure, as I discovered for the first time that there was no evidence of a bra.

"That's so nice," she uttered quietly.

Slowly I eased my hand round to her front, pretty clearly hoping to cup her breast in my hand. As I got close Jill visibly tensed up, her body going rigid.

"Don't Greg," Jill whimpered almost imperceptibly. "Don't spoil it please."

"Spoil it for who?"

"For both of us honey," she replied between sobs. "You'll be very disappointed."

"Let me be the judge of that sweetheart," I whispered back, and slid my hand slowly towards it's objective.

Jill froze as my hand at last found her sweet little breast, cupping it comfortably in my hand. I heard her whimper quietly.

"Sorry Greg," Jill sobbed out. "I did warn you."

"It's beautiful Jill," I reassured her, squeezing the lovely, soft, little globe a little harder.

"Don't tease me please Greg."

"I'm not Jill."

"But I'm so small up there," she protested.

"Big enough for me."

"Please Greg," Jill sobbed. "Stop pretending."

"A good mouthful Jill," I chuckled at her. "In fact I doubt if I could get it all in my mouth."

"Oh my God Greg," she gasped out. "You're not going to ......"

"Oh yes I am," I interrupted her, and began to undo the buttons to her top.

"Oh my God," Jill croaked out, making a token attempt to stop me, which I ignored. "Nobody's ever done that before."

Incredible ---- Yes I know. 

I was going to be the first guy to ever suck on her gorgeous little tits. This girl, if Wendy was to be believed, who had acted as a slut for a few months, but had maybe never actually enjoyed having her tits felt up before.

It came to me then ------ I knew the way to this girl's heart.

I finished unbuttoning her top, gently brushing aside her feeble attempts to stop me, and, my excitement mounting, pushed it aside. The advantage of girls with petite breasts ---- As I suspected, no bra! 

No need for one either, they were so firm and pert.

Beautiful!  I both thought it and said it, and I caught a glimpse of a smile as it flittered across her pretty face.

I played with her breasts, toying with them with my fingers, tweaking her hard nipples till she squirmed.

"They're so small," Jill protested once more, but this time her tone was different. Now she was seeking assurance, wanting me to tell her again that I thought they were lovely.

"Beautiful things come in small packages," I said to her, smoothy that I was. "And these are the most beautiful, sweet, soft, little packages that I have ever seen."

Not entirely sure I was being absolutely honest there, as though I preferred small boobs and had always done so, I'd made the acquaintance of a few in my time. Still ---- they really were pretty well perfect, and reminded me of some of the young teenage girls I'd felt up years ago. 

But that only added to their appeal, and as far as I was concerned, I was smitten.

"Do it Greg," Jill uttered breathlessly. "Please do it now."

I needed no further invitation, and knowing what she wanted, lowered my head, as she arched her back and thrust her little bare breasts up towards my eager mouth.

"Oh my God," she squealed, as I licked around her nipple with my tongue.

"Don't stop Greg," as I took the tip of her breast into my mouth, suckling it, using my tongue to increase her pleasure.

Then she screamed as I nipped her nipple between my teeth, carefully increasing the pressure till she screamed out again and pleaded for me to do it harder. I bit her nipple till I was frightened to do it any more, fearful that I would do it some injury, but still she pulled my head down onto her breast, and still she called for me to bite her even harder. 

Unprepared to do that, I rolled her nipple gently between my teeth as if grinding my teeth together.

"Oh Fuck ---- Oh Fuck," she screamed, and her whole body seemed to go into spasm, her legs beating up and down on the floor of my car as her lovely body squirmed wildly in my arms. 

Bugger me ----- I've witnessed some orgasms in my time, but that one really took the biscuit.

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

"You Ok Jill?" I asked her affectionately a few minutes later as she lay there recovering in my arms, the occasional after-shudder still running through her body.

Jill simply nodded, unable for the moment to even re-open her eyes. But she took my hand and placed it back on her breast, squeezing my hand to indicate that she just wanted me to hold it while she got her breath back.

"So that's what an orgasm is really like," She surprised me with a few minutes later. "I sometimes wondered whether I'd ever find out."

Blimey!

Now I knew that she really could be mine. First guy to make a girl cum and all that.

"You really do like my boobs don't you Greg?" 

"Love them," I smiled back at her.


Star Quality



Jill looked up at me with the most wonderful smile, something between sexy and adoration.

"Would you do something for me please honey?" she asked.

"Of course. Anything sweetheart."

"Will you kiss me on the lips for a while, and then do the same thing to my other boob please?"

"I think I can manage that Jill," I confirmed.

"If I cry though, please just ignore me," Jill mumbled huskily. "In fact I'm so happy that I'm probably going to cry----- Don't take any notice ---- Just carry on with it."

I did ---- She did, and I could understand why.

As I first kissed her on the lips and then transferred my attention to her other breast, my hand squeezing and teasing the first one, long drawn out sobs wracked through her body, and streams of tears poured down her face, their saltiness on my tongue as I stopped to lick them away.

Years of being ashamed of her small breasts were kissed and sucked away in one short evening.

Yes, I could understand why she was crying with happiness.

I suppose her first proper orgasm may have helped a little as well though, and the second one didn't go amiss.

--------

"Thank you Greg," Jill said to me a little later, smiling, as she looked me straight in the eyes, hers glistening with the tears that she had shed.

"Thank you Jill," I answered back. "You're such a beautiful girl."

Jill snuggled up to me, burying her head back into my chest, as I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her protectively, tightly against me.

She mumbled something into my chest, that I didn't quite catch, but then I don't think I was supposed to.

"I love you!"

At least, I think that's what she whispered.

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

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

Our next date was as I'd planned on the Saturday morning. I picked her up in my car and ran us both in to town.

"What we going shopping for Greg," she asked, leaning up against me.

"You'll see," I replied.

"Nothing for me I hope," Jill went on. "I don't need anything.

"You'll see," I repeated and stole a quick glance across at her. She didn't say anything but the little grin on her face gave away that she had her suspicions.

She was right ----- But I don't think she would ever have guessed quite how much that shopping trip was going to change her young life.

-----------

"Well Jill," I asked her, holding up a dress I'd picked up from the rack. "How about this one."

"No way," she scolded me laughing. "I couldn't possibly wear that."

"Why not?"

"Too short ---- far too short," she protested. "It's more like a tee shirt than a dress."

"OK," I agreed, slipping it over my arm to join the other one that she'd already rejected.

"This one's nice Greg."

"OK ---- Give it to me," I sort of agreed, taking it from her. Then slipped it back on the rack once her back was turned. Too long -------- Far too frumpy!

"How many have we got for to try on now honey," Jill asked. "I'm only allowed to take up to five into the changing rooms."

"We've got six," I told her. "I'll pop this green one back."

Without waiting for her agreement, I slipped the green one off my arm and laid it over the nearest rack.

"Oh pity," Jill remarked. "I quite liked that one."

She didn't know it was the only one that she had picked out that I hadn't already discarded when she wasn't looking.

We wandered over to the changing rooms, which in itself took some time. You know what it's like guys. We'd just make a beeline for it. Go there --- Get the business done and get on with it. 

But not women, oh no! ---- They have to stop and look at everything that catches their eye, irrespective of the fact that we'd just looked at all those things ten minutes ago.

Anyway!

The changing rooms were those big communal things, where the woman leaves hubby or boyfriend outside and disappears inside to emerge if you're lucky with something for you to view.

I'd been sort of hoping for something more individual where I could be a bit cheeky and peep inside, but no such luck.

I waited.

I waited a bit more.

Then I waited a little bit more again.

Eventually the assistant came out, looked at me and asked if I was the guy with the pretty blonde with the long legs.

"Yes,' I replied. "What's she doing in there?"

"She wants to know where all the dresses she picked out are," she replied.

Oh bugger!

"What's wrong with the one's she's got?" I demanded.

She say's they're all too short," answered the assistant.

Dammit!

"What do you think?" I asked the young girl, noticing in passing that she was a rather pretty little thing.

"I think she looks fabulous," she replied. "I'd kill to have legs like hers."

"Have you told her that yet?"

"No ---- Haven't had a chance."

I thought about it ----- The situation that is. If I didn't get Jill to at least come out and show me the dresses, then this whole outing was going to end in disaster.

"A tenner if you get her to come out in one of those dresses," I offered.

"Any one of them in particular," the girl asked, her interest suddenly sparked.

There was as it happened, but I didn't want to push my luck, so I told her no.

I went back to waiting, my fingers crossed.

Sure enough, five minutes later, the girl walked back out, winked at me and stood aside.

This was the moment ------ The defining moment.

As it happened, it didn't start out terribly promising, as Jill's head appeared round the corner of the opening, looking out, trying to find me. I'd hoped she'd come straight out, like any red blooded male, the idea of my 'bird' being admired by the other guys hanging around was rather appealing. 

But no.

"Psssssst!" Jill hissed at me, then again till I could no longer ignore it.

"What's up?" I asked innocently, walking over towards her.

"You bastard Greg," she said to me. "Where are the dresses I picked out?"

"Weren't suitable," I explained logically.

"And you think these ones are?" Jill shot back. Logic simply doesn't work with women does it?

"Don't know till I see them sweetheart."

That was pretty good thinking I thought.

"Well I'm not coming out there with this dress on where everyone can see me," Jill informed me haughtily.

"Why not?"

"It's too damn short Greg," she retorted, a hurt look on her pretty face. "If I bend over, everyone will be able to see my panties."

"Well don't bend over then." ----- Seemed another logical answer to me, but it didn't do any good, and she still wouldn't come out.

Eventually with the assistant's help, we persuaded Jill to at least stand in the entrance so that I could see her.

Looked more promising, but she stood there all sort of crunched up, her hands crossed over herself, frightened to show her self off properly.

"Stand up straight Jill," I ordered her.

"No!"

"Please."

"No!"

"Come on Jill."

"No!"

I gave her my most appealing look, and mouthed the words 'pretty please' silently.

"Oh damn you," Jill sighed, and with a big breath, she straightened up and dropped her hands to her sides.

Wow!

It was short ------ bloody short by any standards. 

The dress was black, with a little, and I do mean little, pleated skirt that flared out from her hips. The top was close fitting and even with her small breasts, it was pretty clear to anyone looking that there was no sign of a bra underneath.

"I told you it was too short," Jill pointed out.

"Well it is a bit short," I admitted. "But it looks fantastic. Your legs look ----- Well they look fantastic as well."

"It does miss," the assistant agreed. "With your legs you should wear dresses like that all the time."

"I'll second that," said a deep voice to my left, and Jill's mouth gaped open in shock as she realised a couple of the 'other halves' had crept forward for a crafty look.

"Beautiful," commented the other guy. "Wish my missus had legs like yours darling."

"Oh my God," Jill exclaimed, but held her ground bravely, even giving us a little spin to show the dress off. "Do I really sort of ..... That is ...... Well do I look OK in it?"

"Fantastic!"

Oddly enough, all four of us looking on, said exactly the same thing. Jill smiled in embarrassment, but her pleasure was obvious.

"Shall I try on one of the others?" She asked nervously.

Bloody hell ----- Success was seldom so sweet.

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

For the next twenty minutes, Jill modelled the five dresses we'd chosen, gaining confidence with each one. By the time she had the fifth one on, she strutted out like a catwalk model, looking a little surprised at the small gathering of people, and not all men, who had appeared from nowhere to admire her, and especially those fabulous legs.

She listened to a few comments, blushed like fury, rushed over to me, kissed me, and rushed back into he changing rooms.

We eventually ended up taking two of the dresses, including the black one by the way, that really was a bit short. Her decision though, honestly, but I wasn't going to argue. 

Tight jeans ------ Two pairs ----- She really looked good in them. Have I mentioned that before?

Two skirts ---- One tight and one not so, but both short of course.

Three new tops which she wouldn't have dreamed of wearing beforehand.

Oh yes, and two tee shirts ------ White, tight and short. By Golly did they look good with her new jeans!

And that's how she left the shop ------ Skintight jeans, and a tee shirt that looked as if it had been sprayed on, her sweet little tits proudly displayed, her hard nipples trying desperately to make a break for freedom.

Sexy?????

I could hardly believe the change in her myself.

"People are looking at me Greg," she worried. "They must think I look awful."

"People are looking at you Jill," I confirmed gleefully. "And they think you look damn hot."

"Don't be silly Greg," Jill replied, but if anything she stuck her little tits out even more and almost strutted down the road, desperately trying to keep her grin under control.

I did wonder if she realised quite how little that tee shirt left to the imagination, whether she would have been so confident. But she must have inspected herself in the mirror that evening, and those two tee shirts and tight jeans became her favourite outfit for the next few months, and beyond.

The next stop was the shoe shop, where Jill started on her usual protests that she couldn't wear those, and she couldn't walk in the others. Again with the help of the assistant, a man this time who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, we persuaded Jill to at last try a pair on.

Black, simple, and not too high. She wobbled a bit at the beginning, never having worn them before, but the salesman told her she'd soon get used to them, and sure enough she quickly did. We put that pair aside and the salesman offered a red pair, quite a bit higher than the black ones.

"They're lovely," gushed Jill. "But I couldn't walk in them. I'd fall over ----- People would laugh at me."

But the smile of anticipation on her sweet face told me that persuading her would be easier than with the dresses.

"Oh OK!" She relented after a few minutes. "I'll try them on but we're not going to buy them."

Our friendly salesman even gave her some tips on how to walk in them.

"Put one foot in front of the other," he smilingly told her.

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?" Jill laughed back, quite getting into it. "I'm walking forward not backwards."

"No Miss," he chuckled back to her. "What I mean is, when you put your foot forward, swing it round and put it directly in front of the other one. You know, like models do on the catwalk."

"Damn stupid thing to do," commented Jill, but gave it a go anyway, and a few minutes later, though still a touch unsteady, was walking confidently up and down, her ass swaying so sexily in her tight jeans that the two of us watching her performance were grinning stupidly at one another.

"Fabulous legs,' the salesman commented.

"Mmmm," I nodded in agreement.

"Gorgeous ass," he added, as she waltzed sexily away from us.

"Mmmm," I again concurred.

"Beautiful little pair of tits if you don't mind me mentioning it," he next said without any sign of embarrassment, as Jill turned back towards us; every detail of her tight little breasts clearly evident through her thin tee shirt, and her hard nipples sticking out prominently making it clear that she was well aware that we were talking about her.

"She looks so bloody sexy in those tight jeans and that tee shirt with those high heels."

"She does, doesn't she," I agreed yet again.

"You're a lucky sod mate," he at last ventured.

"Mmmmm," I nodded yet again. "I am aren't I?

And I was. 

Fifteen minutes later we strolled happily out of the shoe shop, the sexy red high heels in a bag, black strappy ones on her feet, and huge smiles on both of our faces.

I doubt that we passed a single member of the male sex that afternoon whose eyes didn't swivel as we passed them.

I've never been the jealous type, and it was just as well really.

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

The transformation in Jill was almost unbelievable. She had a few uncertain moments during the first few days, especially when getting up the courage to go back to work with her new image. That bit she did gently, which was a good idea.

High heels the first day, tight jeans a couple of days later, and the full impact by the end of the week.

"I got chatted up six times today," she proudly told me on the following Friday evening, giggling when she saw my face fall a little. "Don't worry Greg ---- You're my man and I owe everything to you. You're the only guy that I want to be with."

Appropriately maybe, we got engaged three months later, and by the Christmas time we were Mr and Mrs Greg Howard.

"You can't imagine how lucky I feel," Jill told me as we walked away, arm in arm from the registry office. 

I took a good long look at my lovely, sexy, elegant wife. There was no doubt in my mind as to who was the lucky one!

That shoe salesman had been so spot on as far as I was concerned.

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

The next few years we both suffered badly from this dreaded disease called the 'married bliss' syndrome!

We really had it bad.

Life couldn't have been much better for either of us, as we both slowly progressed in our respective careers, and our love matured and grew. 

I was, and remained, a reasonably good looking guy, dressed well, nice car, was personable and got on with people, and was pretty good in bed ----- Jill's words not mine.

Jill on the other hand simply seemed to emerge even further from her crystalis, and turned from a lovely girl into a beautiful young woman. She got on with everyone and everyone seemed to love her. My parents certainly took to her and sometimes it seemed that I became almost secondary in their eyes. But it didn't worry me in the slightest, Jill being close to perfect in my eyes as well.

Her dress sense improved by leaps and bounds, and for general wear her skirt length got a little longer than those first few exciting dresses we purchased. Still mostly short to take advantage of those great legs, but more classy and more sophisticated. Only when we partied or went out somewhere special did her skirt length rise up to just about the legal limit, and when she did so ---- I loved it.

And when she wore tight jeans and high heels ......... Well I've told you about that already ------ Sorry, but it still caused me chest pains just talking about it. 

Oh and those tee shirts ---- No ---- Sorry ---- We've been there haven't we?

Even so ---- Jill, bra-less in a tee shirt ........! ---- Bloody hell.

I loved to watch the reaction of other men as she walked into a room, tiny skirt, long, slender, bare legs and sexy high heels, and even better when she walked straight up to me and gave me a peck on the cheek.

Oh the jealousy ----- the envy! ------ I could smell it. I could almost taste it.

Jill was my prize, and I adored her and the way that she dressed.

It was not only her legs that she exploited either. She learned how to look up at guys somewhat coquettishly, all but fluttering her eyelids at them and all.

Ok, she flirted with the guys quite a lot. It was difficult for her not too, as they were constantly hitting on her, but she had a way of simply disarming them without upsetting them.

"Yes I'd love to go out to dinner with you Tom," was typical. "I'll ask my husband when WE are free."

Yes ---- It amused me, and her stories of how inventive some of her admirers were, used to have us in fits of laughter, as she'd recount her day as we lay in bed cuddled up together.

And then of course there were her breasts. Jill went from hating them to loving them, once she realised that not all men only liked big tits. She became quite relaxed about showing them off in the right circumstances, such as on the beach, where she always went immediately topless.

She loved wearing tops that showed off the shape of her breasts, like tight tee shirts, or blouses or shirts that she left unbuttoned really quite daringly low. She often checked with me that I didn't mind, knowing full well that it very often resulted in friends and strangers alike getting an eyeful of her naked breasts as she bent over or turned.

I loved it. 

No, I really did. No touching of course, but what red blooded, confident husband doesn't get a thrill out of his wife giving other guys the occasional flash.



"Cheeky moo," I accused her happily, going up to her at my company's Christmas party. "My boss has spent half the evening manoeuvring around you to get a look inside your top."

"I know," she replied with a giggle.

"And you don't mind?" I asked, thinking I'd check that she was OK with him doing that. I didn't want to upset my boss of course, but I didn't want Jill put on the spot either.

"Course I don't honey," she answered me. "I've been moving around to give him a better look."

"Cheeky cow," I repeated in mock annoyance. "Show me what you've been showing him."

Jill obliged and leant forward a little and turned her body half sideways on to me.

Bloody hell!

"I can see everything Jill," I gushed out. "I can see your whole breast, nipple and all."

Jill giggled.

"Well maybe he'll give you a rise then honey."

"He's the one that will have been getting the rise," I laughed back at her, and later that night in bed I punished her severely for her unreasonable behaviour. We both enjoyed it so much that I punished her again.

Well I did get the rise, in wages that is, but not till some months later, so I liked to think it was due to my ability rather than just my wife's breasts. Though I have to confess my boss often asked how my lovely wife was getting on, and I, that is we, seldom got missed off the list when some company 'do' was announced.

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

Life continued like that for another couple of years, the pair of us getting kicks out of Jill occasionally giving the odd guy a flash of boob down her top, or a glimpse up her short skirt. 

Nothing too overt ---- nothing too risky. If any of the guys involved suspected that we were doing it deliberately and in collusion, then they never said so.

Then it changed somewhat!

It changed when I discovered that Jill and I weren't necessarily singing from the same hymnbook.



"You were getting a bit heavy with Mike on the dance floor," I casually accused her one evening when we were out with friends.

"No more than normal sweetheart," she replied, taking a swig of her drink before taking the hand of the next guy in line waiting his turn.

I watched the pair of them as they danced to some modern tune, Jill swaying around sexily a foot or so away from Ted her new partner. I was only too aware that he was staring at the gap between her half open blouse as it flapped open and closed as she moved. Normally I would have grinned at such a sight, but I had been a bit surprised at what I thought I had seen her get up to with Mike a few moments before, and especially her flippant response when I had mentioned it.




Star Quality



Then the music changed as if by order, and Ted took Jill in his arms and pulled her close.

I felt uncomfortable.

For the first time ever, I felt uncomfortable with the way that Jill was behaving.

I didn't mind the looking ---- loved it in fact! But I wasn't so happy with any touching, and I was damn sure that Mike had touched Jill's breast when they had been dancing.

Then Ted did the same bloody thing!

I watched, my breathing on hold as I saw him slip his hand upwards, sliding it in between them till it disappeared between their bodies.

The bastard was feeling her up!

He was playing with her right breast, and Jill was doing nothing to stop him.

Damn and blast!

That blouse was so bloody thin it would be like he was stroking her bare tit.

I fought the temptation to leap up and separate them, continuing to sit there, squirming in my chair, getting more and more annoyed at their actions, my insides churning and the sweat gathering annoyingly on my brow.

"Hi honey," Jill greeted me as she flounced back off the floor, totally unconcerned that I had seen her give Ted a quick peck as they parted. "I promised Mike another dance Greg. Will that be OK?"

"No it bloody well won't Jill," I spewed out, my anger more than evident.

"What's up honey," she asked quietly, a look of concern on her face. "Do you want the next dance?"

"It's not that Jill," I answered a little quieter, aware that our friends were all around.

"What's up then Greg," she demanded, her voice all sweetness and honey, as she sat down on my lap, throwing her arms around me.

"It's what you've been doing Jill," I told her keeping my voice low. "First with Mike and then with that bloody Ted."

I was never too keen on Ted at the best of times ---- Unlike the rest of us more sensible guys, the fool supported Manchester United.

"What? ----- Dancing with them?" Jill asked, still playing dumb.

"No not dancing with them Jill ----- Letting them touch you like that."

"Like what?" she queried, for all the world genuinely puzzled.

"Letting them feel your tits Jill," I spat out unhappily. "Don't try to deny it. I saw you."

"Oh that." 

"Yes that Jill," I went on, taken aback by her complacency. "What the hell did you think you were up to?"

Jill hesitated a few moments, staring at me uncertainly.

"I was only letting them have a quick feel Greg," she whispered eventually. "Nothing serious ---- Just a quick fondle of my boobs honey ---- nothing more, honestly."

"And you think that's acceptable behaviour, do you Jill?"

"Well ..... that is .... yes Greg. I thought you were OK with it. They were only feeling my boobs up."

"Why the hell would you think I wouldn't mind Jill," I spoke up, raising my voice more than I meant to.

"Look Greg," my wife said, taking my arm and pulling me over towards a far corner. "We'd better discuss this where the others can't hear everything we're saying."

I followed in a sulk, letting her drag me over to the empty corner, my mind in turmoil and my insides boiling over.

What the hell was my wife thinking of?

"Now what's this about Greg?" Jill demanded, standing there in front of me with a stern look on her otherwise lovely face. "What's this problem you've suddenly got with me letting a couple of your friends touch my tits up a bit? I swear it was only my boobs, and I didn't let then get their hands inside my top. What's so special about tonight?"

I stood there dumbstruck, hardly comprehending the meaning of the words she had just uttered.

"Come on Greg," she urged me when I didn't respond. "Why am I suddenly in the wrong just because Mike and Ted get a grope? It's not as if it's the first time, and you've never complained before."

"Not the first time?" I asked in little more than a mumble.

"Of course not Greg and you know it," she said, starting to get angry. "You know our arrangement for Christ's sake! As long as you're around it's OK if I let the boys have the odd feel of my tits if I'm in the mood. I know it turns you on, and I don't do it if you're not there ---- Never!"

"What arrangement Jill?"

For God's sake ---- Even I felt pathetic.

"Now don't try that one Greg," Jill said as if scolding a small child. "You'll be telling me that you didn't get your hand inside Annie's blouse next."

"Annie's blouse?" I cried in confusion. "What the fuck has Annie's blouse got to do with this?"

"Christmas," Jill spat at me. "Fred and Nicole's party ----- Don't deny it Greg."

Oh fuck!

How did she know about that?

Even I could hardly remember it, the state I was in that night.

"I'd forgotten that," I admitted. "It meant nothing ----- I was pissed ------ How did you find out?"

"She told me Greg," Jill responded. "You know she did. We discussed it."

"We did?"

"You know we did Greg," Jill carried on brusquely. "That's when we came to our little arrangement. You can touch up our friend's tits, if they'll let you that is, and I'll do the same with the guys. But only when we're both around, and it stops there."

"We did?"

"We did!"

"When?" I queried, having no recollection of this conversation. "When did I agree to all this?"

"That night Greg," Jill explained to me, even her face taking on a pained look as it began to dawn on her that I wasn't joking. "When we got home and back in bed we discussed it Greg. Don't you remember telling me you'd always fancied having a feel of Nicole's boobs?"

I didn't remember anything about that, but the fact was true. I'd always fancied a go at our neighbour Nicole's lovely boobs, and I very much doubt if I'd ever let slip that bit of information to my wife.

"I was pissed that night Jill," I reminded my wife.

"I know you were honey. I had to half carry you home, but you must remember," she protested.

"Not a word!" 

"Oh fuck!"  Now that was a word that I didn't hear my wife use very often.

We stood there contemplating what we had just discovered; both deeply entrenched in our own thoughts.

"It's now mid February Jill," I pointed out unhappily. "Does that mean that for the last six weeks or so, you have been .......... Well, you know?"

Jill nodded.

"Who?" I demanded. "How many of them?"

"Don't ask." She replied quietly. "Quite a lot honey ---- I'm sorry."

"My friends?"

"Most of them at one time or another," Jill confirmed sombrely.

There was another long silence.

"And you haven't .......?" She left the sentence unfinished.

"Not once," I confirmed. "Not with one of them."

"Except Annie at Christmas," speculated my wife.

"Well apparently so," I confirmed. "But I didn't even get my hand inside her blouse as I remember. I can't even recall what they felt like."

"And you've never noticed me before this evening Greg?"

"Not at all," I admitted unhappily.

"But I asked you if everything was Ok a couple of weeks ago Greg," Jill went on. "You told me everything was fine, and then when I asked if you were doing Ok, you said yes."

"When was this Jill?"

"The night we went out to the club with Marsha and that crowd. You were messing with your computor when I came down. I wore my new blue dress for the first time --- The one with no back."

Ah yes ---- The blue dress with no back. I remembered that night well as I'd got just a tinge uncomfortable with the way some of the guys Jill danced with had been running their hands up and down her bare back. Well apparently my concerns were misplaced, as it seemed that they had been running their hands up and down her front as well.

"When you asked me if I was Ok Jill, I thought you meant was I ready to go out," I informed her.

"Oh!"

"Then when you asked if I was doing Ok, I thought you meant was I doing Ok on the computor game I was playing when you came down."

"Computor game?"

"Yes Jill, computor game.' I reiterated.

"So you didn't mean you had been doing Ok with some of the other wives then Greg?"

"No Jill. I didn't mean that."

"Oh fuck!" My wife repeated yet again, putting her head in her hands. "I'm sorry honey –oh fuck --- Oh I'm really sorry."

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

Well!

What to do?

Once I thought about it, somehow the thought of a few of my pals having a quick grope didn't seem like the end of the world. Not that I was exactly ecstatic about it of course, but it wasn't enough to wreck a good marriage for, and Jill seemed genuinely upset that she had misunderstood me so.

"I guess I owe you a free pass for the rest of the night then Greg," Jill at last offered. 

Well that seemed a fair enough offer, but let's put this all into perspective shall we?

There's me, Greg, late twenties and reasonably good looking. My objective then was to feel as many girls' tits up as I could that night.

Chances ----- Let's face it pretty limited.

Results ------ Not including one slapped face ----- One quick grope with a woman that I didn't really fancy.

In the other corner.

There's Jill ------- mid twenties ------ slender and absolutely gorgeous ------ legs to die for, and lovely little breasts, beautiful and as usual, temptingly half way out on display.

Chances ------- Just about unlimited.

Results ------- I don't even like to think about it!

God was I an unhappy bunny by the end of that evening.

"Not working is it Greg?" remarked Jill as we drove home from the party in the early hours.

"Not for me Jill," I sighed aloud. "How about you?"

"No trouble getting my boobs felt whenever I fancy it Greg," she replied wistfully. "My main trouble is keeping their hands out of my panties."

"How many tonight?" I queried sadly.

"Too many honey," she came back instantly. "And it's not the fun it was either, knowing that you're not having a good time."

"I'm not Jill."

"Shall we stop then Greg?"

"Can we please?"

"Of course we can Greg," Jill told me. "I was never that happy letting all your friends maul me around anyway."

"Thanks Jill."

We took one another in our arms and kissed the kiss of lovers, eventually coming up for breath some time later.

"Can I still wear sexy tops and things though Greg?" Jill asked, and I nodded my agreement.

"And flash my boobs off a bit like I used to?"

"I hope so Jill," I answered her. "I really hope so sweetheart."

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

Jill was as good as her word. I'm really sure of that, and over the next few weeks I noticed more than one so called pal looking upset as Jill kept them well at bay. 

Yes everything was fine again. I couldn't help but occasionally reflect back on Jill having her tits felt up by all those guys, but I suppose she was just making up for not having the fun that most girls did in their teens.

Come on ----- Let's be honest. 

The thought of my wife with other guys was a bit of a turn on. It had only been her tits that were on offer after all, and by then I'm quite sure that they had all long since had a good look at them with the sexy outfits that Jill wore all the time.

No ---- I'd got over it ----- No problem. Bit of a turn on really.

Trouble maybe was, that I hadn't realised that Jill had guessed that.

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

We were lying in bed together one Saturday morning, with nothing better to do. I was, as I was wont to do on occasions like that, idly stroking her breasts. Nothing too sexy, and not in the depths of some passion, just casually playing with one of them while discussed the room we were planning to paint soon.

"Ever imagine anyone else doing that Greg?" Jill asked during the conversation,

"What do you mean?"

"Ever imagine some other guy doing that honey?" She more or less repeated.

"Some other guy painting our room for us," I laughed back at her. "Chance would be a fine thing Jill ---- We can only just about afford the paint after we've bought your new car."

"Not the room you idiot," Jill giggled at me. "My boobs."

"What? ----- Some chap painting your tits Jill," I laughed back, well aware what tack she was actually taking. "What colour would you have them done?"

"Idiot man!" chuckled Jill, smiling up at me. "You know damn well what I mean Greg. Do you ever think about any other chap feeling me up? You know groping me."

"Never!" I lied. Though with the risk that she might allow it gone since she'd made her promise not too, my mind had frequently strayed down that path.

"Don't believe you," Jill said, staring me straight between my eyes.

"Why would I lie? Why would I think about some other man doing this to you?" I objected, giving her nipple an extra twirl for good measure.

"'Cos it turns you on honey."

"It does nothing of the sought," I retorted.

"Oh yes it does honey," sung out my wife. 

"It doesn't!"

"You're thinking about it now aren't you Greg," Jill stated with yet another little giggle. "Don't deny it, you're thinking about it now, aren't you?"

"Well of course I am now you've mentioned it," I felt forced to admit, but refusing to concede that the thought did turn me on quite a lot for some reason that I couldn't quite get my head round.

"And it's getting you excited, isn't it?" 

"No --- No of course it isn't," I denied, trying to keep a straight face.

"Then why, oh why, is this little fella so big then honey?" Jill asked in her little girly voice, as she reached down and took my very erect cock in her tiny hand. "Explain that away."

Not easy of course, and despite some blustering, Jill just kept teasing me. Demanding to know who I thought of playing with her breasts, where, when, would I be watching, would there be more than one of them at a time, and would I join in? All the questions that I really didn't want to answer. 

Dammit I hardly wanted to admit to myself some of the fantasies that I had enjoyed in private.

"Perhaps we should talk about this another time Greg," she said at last letting me off the hook, and giving me a squeeze. "I think I should deal with this little problem here."

With that I grabbed her and we started our foreplay, a wonderful bout of love making taking up most of the rest of the morning.

It was good ----- really exceptional, and I somehow knew that I hadn't heard the last of our subject of conversation.

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

"You thought any more about it honey? " Was casually slipped into our conversation a couple of days later. 

"About what Jill," I asked, though I instantly knew from the look on her face, exactly what she was talking about. In honesty, I had been expecting it, and she didn't give me the chance to avoid it.

"You know what I'm talking about Greg, and I know you must have been thinking about it," Jill started her explanation. "I know it turns you on, and you know that I enjoy the thrill of it."

"But it's embarrassing thinking that my pals are touching you up Jill," I complained. "Imagine the fall out if any of their wives got upset about it."

"You're right Greg," she agreed with me. "I always felt a bit uncomfortable letting your mates have a grope, but what about someone we didn't know?"

"No Jill," I countered uncertainly, only too aware that my little fella was reacting whether I wanted it to or not. "I just don't want you to let other guys cop a feel."

"Why not?" She asked.

How do you answer that?

"It's just not right Jill," I explained. "It's not that I'm jealous, but it just doesn't seem right."

"Just a little feel?" She giggled, and despite myself I couldn't avoid grinning back.

"Why do you feel the need sweetheart?" I questioned her, desperately trying to re-arrange myself so that she wouldn't spot the tent in my trousers.

"Just a bit of harmless fun," she responded. "And besides ....."

"Besides what," I asked, wondering what she had left unfinished.

"Well the sex afterwards always seems so much more spectacular!"

"Well it had better be with me then," I wriggled out of it. "Let's see how things go."

We did leave it at that, and later on she dragged me off to bed early and we did about just everything that it seemed possible for two lusty young people of the opposite sex to do.

There was no question really.

The fantasy of Jill having her breasts touched up turned the pair of us on even more than just flashing them. Trouble was, as I'd already found out, Jill's distinction between fact and fiction seemed somewhat more blurred than mine.

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



It was a Friday night and Jill and I had been out for a wonderful meal at the local hotel, which had the best restaurant in town. Sure it was expensive, but it gave Jill the chance to get dressed up, and things between us were, if anything, better than ever, and we were, the two of us, still pretty crazy about one another.

"I'm not ready to go home yet honey. How about we have a night cap in the bar?" my wife suggested.

That was OK with me of course, and I seldom turned down the opportunity to show off the lovely Jill when there were other guys around. That night she'd worn the short blue dress, the same one with no back, and for that matter not overly much in the front. We'd not long got back from a short holiday in Spain, and she still sported a beautiful golden tan, and despite the brevity of her dress, not a single tan line was showing, and I'll leave you to guess the reason for that. 

I was very proud of her!

Oh so very, very proud!

Christ, I was so proud that it was almost painful.

We both took a stool against the bar, and Jill did her normal thing of crossing her long legs, making her short skirt rise even higher, her shapely tanned bare thighs on display, her panties barely covered. The barman had a good look while he served us, trying not to be too obvious but failing pretty miserably. He wasn't sure whether to look at her legs or down at the gap in the front of her dress that extended half way down to her navel. There was a lot of leg showing, but I think the gap won and having spent the evening opposite her, I could understand why.

"Cheeky," I accused her when he moved away.

"I only do it for you honey," she retaliated, and we both laughed.

"Right!" I declared, knocking back the rest of my cognac in one. "Finish your drink my girl, because when I get back from the toilet, I'm going to take you home and give you a good fucking."

"Promises, promises," Jill chuckled back.

I don't think we'd ever been happier.

I didn't exactly run or anything, but I wandered off to the men's room, did my business, gave it a shake, put it away and returned, a little surprised to find that Jill was no longer alone.

I'd only been gone five minutes, but there alongside her, leaning on the bar, was some well-dressed stranger, deep in conversation with her.

After the initial shock I realised that any girl on her own as good looking as Jill, was likely to be chatted up in a bar like that, especially one showing the amount of flesh that she was.

I strode up confidently, a grin on my face, about to enjoy putting my arm round her waist and giving her a big kiss. Showing this guy whose girl she really was.

"No my husband's away on business at the moment," I heard her say. "I'm here with a guy that works for me and we've just finished our meeting."

Pardon!!!!

What???

Did I hear that right?

I worked for her?

What rubbish was Jill spouting to this stranger?

Needless to say, I changed my immediate plans and slowed to a halt unsure what to do.

"Fancy coming off to a club with me then Jill?" The stranger asked her, apparently having already found out her name.

"Sorry Daniel," Jill replied, leaning towards him, and no doubt deliberately giving him a good long, unencumbered look down the front of her dress. "I can't go off and leave Greg just like that. But you're welcome to join us if you want."

"Ok," this Daniel guy agreed readily. "Maybe we could slip off a little later."

"Maybe Daniel," Jill teased him. "We'll have to see."

Time for me to impose myself on them I thought.




Star Quality



"Well Jill," I greeted her, reaching to put my hand round her waist. "Who's this that you've found?"

"Oh there you are Greg," Jill replied, deftly diverting my hand away from her waist to end up on the bar. "This is Daniel ----- Daniel, meet Greg."

We shook hands uncertainly, both sizing one another up. Him no doubt wondering how he could get rid of me quickly, and probably thinking that I was trying to protect my rather lovely female boss from a predator. In reality of course, he wasn't far wrong.

"Pleased to meet you Greg," he greeted me. "You're lucky to have such a beautiful boss as Jill here."

"I shot Jill a look and she blushed in embarrassment, probably already regretting her little subterfuge. 

"Yes Daniel," I responded. "Sometimes it's such a pleasure serving under her."

Jill coughed, almost spluttered, and Daniel stared at us, wondering what was going on.

"Daniel's here to look at a company that he's thinking of buying Greg," my loving wife kindly informed me, making me feel even less significant. Even in real life I couldn't get anywhere near to matching that, but as Jill's so called assistant I was feeling the first pangs of humiliation.

"Greg," piped up the bloody Daniel. "You're nearest old chap. Could you just pop over and get my jacket on that chair over there where I was sitting?"

Hackles rise in situations like that, and Jill saw mine rising. 

The bastard was treating me like some lackey. Putting me down in front of my ....... My wife ---- my boss? Whatever.

Why don't we go and sit down there instead boys," interjected Jill, diffusing the situation. "It'll be more comfortable for all of us."

Before I could blow up, she thrust a couple of glasses in my hand and directed me towards the booth that our new 'friend' had apparently vacated. Arriving there, I found myself on one side of my wife, with buggerlugs on the other side. Not the arrangement I would have chosen, but it could have been worse. 

Polite conversation followed, while I sat there silently fuming, sidelined and substantially uninvolved, my anger mounting. It's rare that I objected to any guy lucky enough to steal a glimpse of Jill's breasts as you must realise by now, but the way he was leaning over her, no doubt openly lapping up the sight of her hard long nipple as it popped in and out of view as she moved, just pissed me off. Jill's rather obvious efforts to help him in his venture didn't exactly help either.

I'd just about had enough of the situation, when I heard Jill ask her friend if she could have another drink. For a moment I honestly thought that they were going to forget about me, when Daniel remembered and asked me what I wanted.

"He'll have a soft drink," interrupted Jill. "He's got to drive me home afterwards."

"Soft drink it is Jill," Daniel responded quickly. "But maybe he might not have to drive you home."

They both laughed.

I squirmed.

Fuck them!

I'd had enough, but Jill squeezed my arm signalling me to keep my cool. I'd long lost my cool, but I held my temper, managing not to scream out at the pair of them.

"God I'm so sorry Greg," cried out Jill as soon as Daniel was out of earshot. "This all started as a game and I was just flirting with him. I expected to get rid of him as soon as you got back."

"Well get rid of him now then Jill," I told her. "I'm fed up with him staring at your tits, so get rid of him and let's go home."

"We can't Greg. He's getting us a drink, so we can't just walk out."

"Well stop putting me down in front of him then Jill, or I'll walk out on my own."

"Ok Greg," Jill said, kissing me on the cheek. "I'll be more careful. Let's just play along with this for a while."

"Play along? What do you mean play along?"

"Come on Greg," she chuckled. "This could be fun. Let's just see what happens."

"What do you mean? What happens?"

"Well he is kind of cute."

"But ..... "

At which point Daniel returned, and I shut up. I wasn't happy, but at least Jill and I were on the same wavelength again.

"Here we go then folks," Daniel said as he laid the tray out on the table. "A G&T for the lovely lady, a Vodka Red Bull for me, and here's your coke Greg."

"Thanks," I responded, and Jill kept quiet.

"So what do you do then Greg?" asked Daniel, taking his seat, apparently deciding that he wasn't going to get anywhere by belittling me.

Crafty bastard!

He'd worked it out, hadn't he? Upset the guy who worked for her, and he was hardly likely to be getting into her knickers later on was he?

Crafty bastard!

"A bit of this Daniel, a bit of that ---- You know." I wasn't going to be placated that easily.

He smiled at me and leant over to Jill and whispered something into her ear. I can't be sure, but for the life of me, it sounded like 'Can we get rid of this guy Jill?'

That pissed me off I can tell you.

Jill giggled and leant up against him.

That pissed me off even more.

"Look you two," Daniel spoke up after nuzzling up to my wife. It'll all be out in public tomorrow, so why don't we celebrate."

"What's to celebrate?" I muttered miserably. I didn't feel as if I had a lot to celebrate, and was counting the seconds till I bought this charade to an end. This guy Daniel was a few years older than me, obviously a lot richer, and, I had to admit, rather more worldly wise. I felt rather overawed by him, and was very uncomfortable with the way my wife was playing up to the bugger.

"I said I went to look at a company today, but I actually shook hands on a deal to buy it. It's Whimehold and Grimley, you know, W&G ltd. They're quite big around here."

OH MY SAINTED AUNTS NO!

OH BLOODY HELL NO!

"W&G," mumbled Jill quietly, sitting back in her seat. "Oh that's nice."

"Yes," he went on, not noticing our concern in his excitement, and continued to give us some vague details about what fantastic things he hoped to do with his new acquisition.

"Look! I'll get some Champagne to celebrate," he cried out jovially, standing up and making his way back to the bar.

"Christ Greg, what are we going to do?"

My wife was in a panic.

"You got us into this Jill," I reminded her.

Yes ----- That's right. You may have guessed. Jill was a junior manager with G&W. It was almost funny if it hadn't been so serious.

"I'll get the sack Greg," she pleaded.

"Probably." I agreed nastily, though of all the things that I was worried about Daniel doing to Jill, sacking didn't exactly top the list.

"But we can't afford it Greg," she carried on. "We can't afford the mortgage on just your salary."

It was true. We were in the veritable shit!

"We'll just have to play along Greg," Jill whispered as Daniel arrived back at our table, cutting our conversation short. "Leave it to me honey. I'll get us out of this."

"Here we are then folks," he declared happily, pouring the Champagne and craftily slipping his arm round my wife's slim waist. "To a great deal today, and maybe an even more exciting night later."

Jill smiled over at me nervously ----- I tried to hide my scowl.

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

Daniel poured the Champers, and even remembered me. We toasted his success that day, and then toasted it again. Unfortunately we didn't stop there, and before I knew it my head was spinning as I stared uncomprehendingly at the three empty bottles of 'Dom something or other' that sat there on the table in front of us.

Actually even I had to confess that Daniel was good company as long as he kept his hands off my wife's naughty bits, and they were both making sure that I wasn't left out of the conversation for a change.

"Oh Daniel!" My addled brain detected by the side of me, and I found myself giggling drunkenly as I watched my wife kissing Daniel, gasping softly as his hand slipped inside the deep V down the front of her dress.

"Hey stop that you two," I think I said, but to no avail as they ignored me. I reached across to pull his hand away, but caught her dress and heard it rip as I yanked at it.

"Look what you've done Greg," Daniel laughed out loud. "Jill's left tit has popped out. What shall we do with it?"

"One of you could suck it maybe?" giggled my wife, her eyes a little glazed, and her speech somewhat slurred. Jill was never much a drinker, and upon reflection I should have never has let this situation develop.

"Me," I claimed drunkenly, but as I leant forward, my hand missed the table and I lost my balance falling in a heap on the floor. Even as I looked up I saw that bugger bend down towards her, and watched spellbound as he took her little breast in his mouth.

Fuck him ---- Fuck the pair of them!

Oh God, if I could only think straight and my head would stop spinning.

If I could only get back onto my feet properly.

I managed to pull myself more or less upright, astonished at how quickly the sparkling wine had affected me. I levered myself back up onto the bench seat, blinking my eyes and deep breathing to try to sober up. By then he had both of Jill's breasts freed from her top, and was squeezing and caressing one while he sucked on the other.

All she did was lay back, her mouth wide open, panting and letting out little groans of passion.

By God she'd got her way hadn't she, but somehow all I could do was sit there and grin stupidly at the pair of them.

"Stop this --- I'm sorry but you really have to stop this right now!"

I agreed! Absolutely bloody right!

Trouble was, it wasn't me that said it!

Looking up, I saw the duty manager, who, perhaps, had been called in by the barman who was stood there alongside him taking in the scene.

"Sorry," he repeated, more quietly, once Daniel and Jill had come back to reality. "You can't carry on like that in the bar sir."

"Ok, sorry old man," sang out Daniel, while Jill simply giggled, totally unphased by the fact that four men were staring at her semi nakedness, her dress having slipped right down to her waist.

"You really do have to cover up miss," the Manager told her, though he made no attempt to stop ogling. "That, or go off somewhere more private."

"What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?" giggled Jill, shaking her little boobs at the two hotel employees.

"It's not that ..... It's ..... Well that is Miss .... Damn it ..... We just can't ....." His voice petered away as he found himself lost for words, bewildered by the half naked perfect specimen of womanhood stretched out before him.

"OK chaps," called out Daniel, taking charge. "Give us a hand here and we'll get out of your hair."

They helped us to our feet, spending more time helping Jill than me, despite the fact that I'd somehow ended back on the floor, and then ushered the three of us out of the bar area, Jill's dress having been restored more or less to its correct position.

"Who's going to dare me to walk through the lobby without my dress on?" called out Jill drunkenly, breaking away from the grip of the manager.

"No Jill," I shouted.

"I don't think so madam," ordered the Manager.

"I'll dare you," laughed out Dan.

"Oh bugger, just look at that," remarked the barman in wonder as Jill pulled her dress off over her head and discarded it to the side of her.

All four of us stood there stunned as my wife strutted across the lobby still half full of hotel guests, naked except for her spiky high heels and her tiny thong panties, her virtually bare ass swinging, and her gorgeous little tits stuck out proudly.

"Miss, Miss please," the Manager called out as he came to his senses and rushed after her, closely followed by Daniel and I. 

We caught her half way across the lobby where the manager tore off his jacket and threw it round her shoulders desperately trying to make her respectable, and leading her off to a corridor to one side. 

"Sir," he said sternly to Daniel. "I know you're a guest here sir, but this is out of order. Please make sure this lady doesn't reappear like this in my hotel."

"Sorry mate," grinned Daniel "We'll look after her."

Even I couldn't help grinning like an idiot at what had just taken place. Drunk or not, Jill had certainly outdone herself that night.

"Hey Greg," Daniel said. "Why don't you go back and get her dress? She can't go anywhere dressed like this."

"Ok Daniel," I answered suppressing a giggle. "I'll just go and get it."

In my drunken fuddle I went to the wrong place, and if the barman hadn't appeared looking rather smug with the slip of a dress in his hand, then I may never have found it.

"Looking for this?" He asked. 

"Ah yes," I chuckled. "My wife seems to have lost her dress."

"Your wife sir?" He queried. "I don't know about the manager, but as far as I'm concerned you can come back anytime."

"I'll remember that," I sort of thanked him as I tried to concentrate on reaching for the dress.

"Lovely little pair of tits sir," he commented.

"Thank you my man."

"Have a good evening then sir," he ended, passing me the dress and turning to go back into the bar.

What a charming chap I thought to myself.

Christ, I must have been pissed!

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

I stood still for a moment while the room somehow magically spun round me, then when it had settles down again I made my way back towards where I'd left Jill and Daniel. 

Couldn't find them! No bloody sign.

I wandered around for a few moments ignoring the disdainful looks from the diminishing number of guests, till my very good friend the Manager came up yet again.

"I think you should be leaving now sir," he told me, taking my arm.

"But I've got to find Jill," I tried to reason with him, my head still spinning.

"I think the young lady has gone off with her husband sir," he answered, still urging me towards the exit.

"But I'm her husband," I explained.

"In which case maybe he's probably taken her home for you," he went on, desperate to get rid of me.

"Doesn't know where we live," I countered, and suddenly in a flash realised where the bugger had taken her. "Which room is he in?"

"None of your business sir."

"Of course it's my business," I cried out getting excited. "He's got my damn wife in his room."

"Well if she is, then she obviously went of her own accord," he retorted loosing his cool as he started to drag me along.

"Let go of me you bastard," I shouted at him, knocking his hand away, only to find two other uniformed guys grabbing hold of me.

"You're leaving now sir, whether you like it or not," one of them, a big sod, shouted at me.

"Call the police someone," I yelled out, taking a swing at one of them as I tried to break away. "They've kidnapped my wife."

Well ---- That was my first major mistake wasn't it, other than allowing myself to get pissed in the first place of course. Bloody hotel must have had a hot line or something, as the next thing I remembered was two coppers taking over and bundling me out of the hotel, unwilling to listen to what I was trying to tell them.

"You're drunk," one of them shouted down my ear. "Get a taxi and go home."

"Don't want to go home," I garbled back at them. "I want my wife."

"Go home now or we'll arrest you," the other one bellowed. "Get a taxi."

"Don't need a damn taxi," I spat at them. "I've got my own bloody car."

"I wouldn't advise that sir," they warned me, and then that's when I made my second major mistake of the evening.

Yes, yes, I know. Bloody stupid and all that, but at least they arrested me for being drunk in charge of a motor vehicle before I'd had a chance to drive off and have an accident. Not very comfortable a police cell isn't, especially when as pissed off with life as I was.

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

Sometime in the early hours of the morning, my mobile phone rang. Surprised that I still had it, I looked and it was Jill ringing me, some five hours or so after I had last seen her there in the hotel lobby. 

Five sodding hours of fucking each other no doubt, till my darling wife had taken the time to notice that I was no longer there.

Damn her!

I clicked the off button and stuck the phone back in my pocket, and tried to go back to sleep on the hard police cell bunk.

Not easy!

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

The police rang my wife during the morning to let her know where I was, but there was no answer and I told them to forget it. If she wasn't interested then nor was I. The last thing I wanted was for her to come and get me, and I was in no hurry to get home to confront her.

Two busses, and a two mile walk it took me, but I was no nearer ready to confront 'HER' than when I'd started, especially when I saw the lights on in the house ahead of me in the gathering gloom.

"Greg darling, where have you been," Jill cried out as I walked in the door, rushing up to me and throwing her arms around me. "I've been frantic worrying about you."

"Like you were worried about me last night you mean," I answered her flatly.

"Oh honey I'm so sorry about last night, but I went frantic when I realised you were no longer there. I nearly screamed the place down."

"Oh yes?" I challenged her. "Then how come it took you five damn hours to realise that I wasn't there any more?"

"Five hours?" She repeated uncertainly. "It couldn't have been that long honey. It couldn't have been."

"I've got your call logged Jill," I informed my good wife angrily. "Your first call was more than five hours after I left you in the lobby. Does that sound as if you were all that worried about me?"

"I don't understand it honey," she grasped for an explanation. "Maybe .... That is ---- I woke up in Daniel's room and you weren't there.

"And how many times had he fucked you by them Jill? How many orgasms had you had?"

"We didn't honey, I swear it," she claimed, her eyes misting up. "I woke up with my head spinning and couldn't find you."

"And where was your boyfriend Daniel?"

"He was fast asleep till I shook him awake."

"On his bed alongside you I suppose," I accused her.

"Yes, I suppose so honey," she admitted looking down at the floor. "But we hadn't done anything, I swear to you."

"And what did you have on Jill?"

"Not a lot," she whispered a look of shame appearing. "But I still had my panties on Greg."

I stared at her not knowing what to think, or even knowing whether she knew herself what she'd done.

"What time did you get back here then Jill?" I quizzed her.

"Does it really matter honey?" Jill gushed the tears in her eyes more evident. "You've come back to me darling and that's all that matters to me."

"What time Jill?" I insisted, shaking her by the arms. "What bloody time?"

"I don't know Greg. This morning sometime," she fretted back. "What difference does it make?"

"Liar," I accused her. "Fucking lying bitch. The police kept ringing till nearly midday and nobody answered. You didn't get home till sometime this afternoon."

"Police?" Jill almost screamed. "What have the police got to do with this?"

"Because I spent the night in a bleeding police cell Jill," I screamed back, offering no further explanation. "Now tell me the truth for a change. What time did you get back?"

'I'm not sure Greg," she mumbled between sobs. "Some time after lunch. What difference does it make?"

"It makes a difference what you were doing all morning Jill," I told her, trying to keep my calm. "Did you have a cosy breakfast with your lover, or did you spend the whole morning in bed fucking him?"

If possible, Jill's face went even whiter, even the sun tan from our Spanish holiday failing to hide it.

"Well," I pushed her. "Breakfast or fucking ---- What was it?"

"He bought me lunch," Jill whispered almost inaudibly. "Then ran me back here."

"So what did you do till lunch time then Jill?" I demanded, my temper rising again. "I don't suppose you played cards all morning did you?"

"No." Jill admitted meekly. 

"You fucked?"

"No. I had nothing to wear and I could hardly come home in just my panties, could I? Daniel went out and bought me something to wear, and then drove me home."




Star Quality



"You said he took you for lunch," I pressed her.

"Well yes," she admitted, screwing her hands together. "I couldn't get you on the phone, so I knew you weren't home, so I went to lunch when he invited me. He had bought me a lovely dress."

"So you weren't worried about me then?"

"Well Greg," she started, looking at me plaintively, "You were supposed to be going to the Dentist this morning, so I presumed that's where you were."

Oh Fuck!

Forgot about that!

Damn it; that was the second appointment I'd missed and I'd be in trouble.

"Please Greg ---- Please," she started to beg. "I really do love you. I was silly last night but nothing happened, so can't we just forget it?"

"And darling Danny-boy Jill, what about him?" I demanded. "You spent the night with him half naked and expect me to believe that nothing happened?"

"It didn't, I promise."

"So he didn't touch you then?"

"No! ---- Well --- That is ....."

"That is what?" I screeched, my temper flaring again. "I've already seen him feel your tits and suck them. Did you let him finger fuck you as well, or did you suck him off?"

"No No No," she cried. "All we did was cuddle a bit."

"And kissed?"

"A little bit," she relented. "But not like we do."

"And you let him feel your tits I suppose?"

"Well a bit Greg. Yes I did, but I kept him out of my panties."

"Bloody well done," I replied sarcastically. "I'm really proud of you. What a wonderful wife I've got."

"Oh Greg, I'm sorry. I said I was sorry. I don't know what got into me ----- I'd drunk too much."

"I can only guess what got into you Jill," I spat back at her. "And I bet it was attached to that bloody Daniel."

"No Greg please," Jill sobbed, and then burst into tears.

Jill started to cry out loud, huge sobs wracking her body as she clung onto me, desperate for me to put my arms around her to comfort her. 

"What have I done Greg? ------ Oh my God, what have I done?"

"Fucked our marriage Jill," I told her. 'That's what you've done."

The conversation was pretty obviously not going anywhere, but I shouted at her, and she cried back at me for the next half hour or more. Eventually we quietened down, and I took my place in my favourite armchair, rejecting her attempt to come and sit on my lap.

"Why didn't you stop me Greg," she asked at last, having settled down somewhat. "I was drunk ---- Out of my mind. Why didn't you stop me?"

"I don't know Jill," I told her. "Maybe I was just as much at fault as you were. I should have put my foot down when you started on again about ..... Well, you know."

When at last she came over to me, and crawled up into my lap, I didn't reject her.

I was too tired --- Too exhausted to fight it.

We sat there the rest of the evening in silence, clinging on to one another, neither of us saying anything, both wishing to God that the previous evening hadn't happened. Wondering if by some miracle whether our marriage could survive. I still really had no idea whether Jill had really cheated on me the previous night, and I wasn't sure whether she knew for sure.

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

We never went to bed that night, simply rearranged ourselves out on the sofa. Jill did ask whether we should go up to bed, but it just seemed to be too much trouble.

The next day passed in a blur, and the week that followed wasn't that much better. Jill was totally pissed off with me when she discovered that I'd lost my licence for a year, but when she mentioned it I simply stared back at her, and she soon shut up.

I was like a robot, carrying out my functions at work, refusing to let my brain dwell on what had happened, or how I was going to deal with it.

Maybe I was making a mountain out of a molehill. I just didn't know.

The Ostrich comes to mind when I think back on that period. If I didn't confront the problem then maybe it never happened. Maybe one day it would go away. I loved Jill with all my heart and soul, but I couldn't forget what had happened that night.

It couldn't go on like that, not for long, and eventually Jill cornered me one evening.

"Greg," she said. "We've got to talk about this. We've got to get past it."

"I don't know if I can Jill," I told her. "You put that bastard before me that evening, and then spent the evening with him naked and forgot all about me."

Jill put her head in her hands and burst into tears.

What is it about a woman crying that breaks even the strongest man down? Especially when it is a woman that you love.

Nothing was resolved for the long term, but for the first time since that goddamned awful night, we ended up making love together that night.

It wasn't exceptional, not even that good. Damn it, it wasn't very good at all. But it didn't matter ---- It was a start, though we'd have to see whether we both wanted to continue to go there. 

Not her you understand --- Me!

A day passed, then a week, and then at long last a full month. Nothing really resolved, but we were still together, still clinging on hopefully, even though the ultimate joy seemed to have deserted our relationship. But we were trying. Not just me, but the pair of us.

Then something happened that gave us both some thing to grab hold onto. Out of the blue, Jill got a major promotion. It wasn't just some normal progression, but a new job that catapulted her into a new level of management, and for the first time in our relationship, Jill was contributing just about the same income into our home as I was.

This might seem unimportant --- inconsequential --- but I knew that for Jill this would be a pivotal moment, and felt that it could be the turning point for our relationship.

And so it was!

The next six months were much better, nearly as good as before --- That is before ---- Well, you know!

I'd just about forgiven her! Not forgotten you understand, that's different. But everyone makes mistakes, and as they say ---- Life goes on.

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

Then came the Christmas party. The bane of my life --- Christmas parties.

It was hers of course, W&G Ltd, who she still worked with.

"I've got to go Greg," she insisted. "I simply have to."

"No problem," I assured her. "I'm expecting it. I've kept the date free."

"I'm really pleased you're coming Greg, but if you don't fancy it, then you don't have to."

"Why wouldn't I fancy it," I queried merrily. "Free drinks and all that that, and a bit of dancing."

"Ok honey."

But she wasn't happy.

There was something wrong.

Something was up!

It took me ten minutes of cajoling and teasing, but at last I got it out of her.

"Daniel's going to be there," Jill admitted.

"He owns the company honey?" she went on. "I swear on my life that I haven't seen him since that evening, but he's going to be there that evening."

"Fine Jill," I told her, acting more laid back and chilled out than I really felt. "He's there. So what!"

Jill shrugged her shoulders, smiled and pulled a face.

What was I to make of that?

"He's sort of indicated that he would like me to support him a bit during the evening. You know ------- Introduce him to members of staff and things. Act as an intermediary --- Sort of a hostess."

We stared at one another for several moments, while I sorted my senses.

"You told me you hadn't seen him Jill," I cried out, upset. "That you haven't spoken him even."

"I haven't Greg," Jill exclaimed. "Well not exactly. I haven't seen him or talked to him face to face since ----- Well since that night. But I work for him honey. It was Dan that promoted me into my present job. We e mail one another, fax one another, and I speak to him most days on the phone."

Oh Jeeeesus!

She'd never even mentioned that before.

You noted didn't you ---- Not Daniel, but Dan!

What a choice!

Go with her?

Let her go on her own?

Demand that she stays home!

What a fucking choice.

Whatever I said was going to be wrong.

Ok so we discussed it sensibly.

No bloody chance. Sure we discussed it, but the more that we talked about it then the more we shouted at one another, the more I sulked, and the more Jill screamed.

Who was in the wrong?

It was her of course. But then again on reflection if I had the choice again ----- I don't know!

So there we were ---- 21st of December, eight o'clock in the evening, and I was sat there as miserable as fuck in my favourite armchair, waiting for my wife to emerge from our bedroom. Waiting for the love of my life to show to her loving husband just how she was going to dress for this so special evening. How she was going to be dressed for her date for that night.

That's right!

I wasn't going with her.

Oh Jeeeeeesus!

"No Jill, no!" I declared when she presented herself. "Not that dress sweetheart. Not that one."

"What do you care,' Jill spat out at me. "You don't trust me. You don't support me, so don't you dare to tell me what to wear."

With that, Jill, my wife, spun on her heels, and walked out of the room, the front door slamming behind her.

I don't think I'd ever seen her looking more beautiful.

Finality!

The dress she'd worn was one I'd bought her earlier that year, and shortly before we had run into our 'problems'. A dress that we had promised ourselves that we would keep for a special occasion.

To say the very least ---- It was revealing!

No problem if she was out with me ---- But ...... Well just ....but!

Some fucking special occasion ------ One that her husband wasn't welcome at!

That evening. No not even that evening, just the early part of it, up till when Jill left in such a huff. For me, all the progress that we had made over the weeks, months since she had deserted me were lost.

What a bloody fool I had been.

I sat at home fuming, reliving the last few words she had said to me, reworking them in my head till they spun round and round.

The cow, the bloody bitch. She'd gone off with that bastard and deserted me for the second time.

OK ----- I didn't know that for sure, but what else was I to think?

There was nothing else was there ---- Jill had gone off to spend the evening with the wonderful Daniel, and I wasn't welcome. Could I have been more understanding? Yes of course I could have, should have been maybe. Perhaps Jill was just trying to protect my feelings, my ego ------ Perhaps ----- Perhaps not!

Fuck it! Fuck them!

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

Don't know what time she got home, and didn't care a damn.

OK, so it was sometime around one thirty two in the morning, but who was counting?

"Hi honey," she greeted me just before midday when Jill eventually emerged for a late breakfast. "What did you get up to last night sweetypie? Did you have a good night?"

I looked over at her, stared at her, shaking my head in disbelief.

"What's up Greg?" she asked.

Was she bleeding stupid? Was she totally daft?

"So did you fuck him last night then Jill," I demanded quite calmly. "Or did you have sex with the whole damn male staff?"

Jill leapt back in surprise, her mouth gaping open.

"What do you mean Greg," she cried out. "Why would you say something like that?"

"Cheating bitch," I accused her, not caring whether it was true or not in this instance, having just about lost it. "Why don't you bugger off back to your lover boy?"

"But Greg, she started to protest. "I haven't .... That is I ....."

"Shut up you cow," I screamed at her. "Just bugger off and leave me alone."

"But Greg ....." she started again.

"Fuck off bitch," I interrupted.

Jill stared at me for a few moments, tears welling up in her eyes.

"But Greg honey. I didn't do anything sweetheart. I didn't."

"Too late bitch," I shouted at her. "I no longer believe anything you tell me."

With that, Jill burst into tears, turned on her heels and ran from the room. Ten minutes later, I heard the front door slamming as she left the house, bound for I knew not where.

It took me a good five minutes before I started to curse myself for being so damn stupid.

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

The next few months were a jumble, involving a shed full of beer and any number of bottles of cheap whiskey. I don't remember a lot about it, but at least I didn't feel a lot of pain. But eventually as always reality had to dawn.

It was Mike ---- You remember Mike ------ My pal that I'd caught feeling my wife's tits up all those months ago? 

Hardly seemed important now in light of what had gone on since then.

"Don't you think you've had enough Greg?" I heard someone saying to me, as I slumped against the bar in some pub in town. It wasn't my local, it having been made clear that for the time being at least I wasn't welcome there anymore.

I looked round recognising Mike through the alcoholic haze that engulfed me.

"Fuck off Mike."

I guess he was expecting that, and he persisted, at last persuading me to go and have a McDonalds with him, on the promise that he'd get me a drink later.

Now then!

I have to make some sort of statement here.

I don't like Big Macs! ----- No sorry I didn't like them at all, and still don't really.

But maybe I'm one of the only people alive, whose life has been saved by a Big Mac.

It gave Mike the time to get through to me. To talk to me, and tell me what a complete fool I was being. I'd lost my job and I didn't even know it, having simply failed to turn up for work so often that eventually I simply stopped going and they stopped expecting me.

He never once mentioned Jill, and I never asked him. He concentrated on me and listened as I poured my heart out to him.

Then he took me home, to his home where May, his lovely wife continued the healing, the pair of them taking time out from their own lives to help me mend mine.

"I really should go back home," I pointed out to them after I'd been there over a week. "I may have left the gas on or something."

"I doubt it Greg," Mike replied smiling. "You're flat was repossessed a couple of weeks back."

"Where have I been living?" I asked unbelievingly.

"Doss houses, friend's places till they got pissed off with you, the park maybe on more than one night."

Oh God!

How could have I have fallen so low?

"You can stay here as long as you like Greg," he offered, and May nodded, backing him up.

"Let's say two weeks maximum," I countered. "I have so much to thank you two for, that I can't keep depending on you for ever."

"As long as it takes Greg," May offered. "As long as it takes."

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

What friends!

With friends like that, it's difficult to have enemies ----- Ok ----- well you know what I mean.

"Any idea what happened to Jill?"

I had to ask!

I hated bringing up the subject, but I'd been working up to it and I couldn't avoid it any longer, as much as I may have wanted to.

"Don't worry about her Greg," Mike started, but May interrupted him, introducing her womanly wisdom.

"He's got to find out sooner or later Mike," May spoke out. "Better from us now than down the pub one night."

"What," I demanded. "What's happened to her? Is she alright?"

Oh shit --- My heart was pounding and despite everything, I was still concerned about her.

"She's Ok Greg ----- Maybe better than OK," May continued. "She's shacked up with that Daniel Murray guy. The one that bought out W&G."

Before I could say anything, Mike intervened.

"Not any more from what I've heard May," he told both of us. "From what I hear, she's dumped him and gone off with some big-wig nearly twice her age."

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

With Mike and May's help, I got back onto my feet and started to rebuild my life. It wasn't always easy, but then I was nobody special with no great expectations, so equally, for the most part it wasn't so very difficult either.

I dated, but not a lot, always trying to match the poor woman up to Jill.

By the way, the big-wig , who you would all have heard of, was nearer three times her age than twice, and in any case didn't last very long either.

'OK magazine' --- 'The Sun' ---- Even the Times and the Telegraph and the television. They were all methods by which I could chart the progress of my loving wife.

Yes --- Wife ---- As to my knowledge we were still married, no divorce ever having taken place.

The Cannes film festival with some ageing rock star, and a few weeks later LA, at some premier with the heart throb male lead. Jill had become a minor celebrity in her own right, a personal friend of Paris Hilton with whom she was photographed with frequently.

That photo that hit all the headlines with Paris exiting her car and showing to the world that she was out for the night 'commando'? Well the girl in front was Jill, and I somehow doubt that she had any panties on either.

We simply moved in different worlds, and I worked my hardest to drive all thoughts of her out of my mind.

Not easy if you read the newspapers.

Even harder if you watched television.

Even in out local pubs it was hard to avoid, her being a local girl 'made good'. How many times did I hear some guy claiming he'd known her before she became famous, claiming he'd taken her out and bedded her when she was just a local girl.

How many fights did I get into?

How many did I lose?

They weren't even close with their stories, but I eventually learned to keep my counsel and not to intervene.

I was OK till I heard that old record by Peter Starstedt. You know, the one that starts 'Where did you go to my lovely' or something like that, and charts the life of a girl from the Italian slums. Not quite Jill's story, but the similarities broke me up. Especially the reference to the topless swimsuit.

Oh Bloody hell! I should explain about that.

I'd been reading a magazine that I probably shouldn't have even opened. OK, so I was becoming obsessed. There in the middle pages was Jill, yes my Jill, on some Arab prince's floating gin palace in the Med. somewhere, glass of wine in her hand, tiny bikini bottoms and very little else. Her pert little bare breasts sticking out cheekily, teasing the group of well heeled guys who surrounded her.

She just looked so vulnerable, and I wanted to protect her but couldn't.

Them perky little tits ---- Them long slender legs ----- That smile ----- They just cut me up so.

I spent the night wondering which of the guy or guys she'd ended up in bed with. No I didn't sleep much that night.

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

I endured my torture for the next two years. I'm not saying I didn't go out with other women, and didn't go to bed with some of them. I'm not claiming that I didn't have a good time. By then I was in my early thirties, well maybe a little bit older, had a well paying job, my own apartment and a nice car (Yes I was still into nice cars, and had long since got my licence back).

Many of my pals, both new and old thought that I had the life of old Reilly. 

Well I did!

Till the next time I spotted my wife in the newspapers or magazine or the telly. Out for the evening with this guy or that guy, and it didn't seem to matter as long as they were rich and famous.

God Jill was fucking gorgeous!

Every guy's wet dream.

And it was me that had discovered her as well.

And she used to be mine ---- mine! --- Bloody hell, just mine, but I lost her, stupid sod that I was.

Then it got worse by a mile.

She got a bit part in some nondescript movie shot in some obscure place by some unknown director. It got featured in the Cannes film festival and was a minor success, so called artistic photos of my wife running naked along a beach somewhere, were spread everywhere.

Jill became more famous in a minor sort of way.

Then it got worse yet again!

James Bond ---- Yes you know the guy. 

My Jill got cast as a Bond girl for the latest film. All right, not the principal girl, that went to some famous French actress, but Jill played the part of some bimbo who caught Bond's eye, and spent most of the film till she got bumped off by the baddies, with virtually no clothes on, only the discrete camera work distinguishing her performance from what could otherwise have been mild pornography.