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Working Class

By: fawguy88



My thanks to NaughtyAngel1369 for al her help with this story. The story is set in the 1960s when things were a lot different. It reads a lot better following her assistance. I hope you enjoy it. 

Chapter 1 - A Working Man's Tale

My given name is Charles or Charlie Givens, but due to circumstances I have been nicknamed Gimpy for so many years now that I respond to that name as well. My father was a farm labourer and mother was a stay at home housewife and mum, to myself and my three young sisters. The tale I'm writing now starts during my childhood in the late fifties and through to, well, we'll all have to wait and see when. It will depend on whether you get bored with me or I think that we have reached a point where I have exhausted my own patience.

I'm conscious that many of you reading this tale will be a lot younger and perhaps with limited knowledge of that time and what it was like. It was a time when here in the UK, people were born, lived and died in the same area. Imagine if you will, car ownership was rare, most families relied on public transport, Television was limited to two channels and in black and white, few families had a phone installed. I could go on but I hope you get the picture for times were hard; we were the post war baby boomers. 

Don't get me wrong, I am not bemoaning or trying to live in the past, but to appreciate the story, you need to understand that computers, mobile phones, the internet, instant communications and video games were only a glimmer on the horizon. OK, so we didn't have the advantages of today's youngsters, but I think, all in all we have had the better start in life than today's generation. To my mind, the post war baby boom generation have had and taken the best this world will have to offer and I have a fear that our legacy to our children and grandchildren is less bright. 

The reason for my nickname goes right back to when I was just five years old and in my first year at the Catholic primary school. We were a catholic family though not very devout, but if you were a Catholic, you went to a Catholic School! 

It was November 5th 1953 and my parents took me to a Guy Fawke's night firework display organised by the local council. It was a cold November evening and we were standing well back from the bonfire when the fireworks display started. A rogue rocket went up in the sky trailing a red and orange tail, when it suddenly veered downwards and dived straight towards us. My father, pulled me away, but the rocket struck my right leg and exploded showering me with flames. I was told afterwards that I was lucky not to lose my leg or sight, if my father had not acted so quickly and doused the flames with his donkey jacket, I would have been crippled for life. As it was, I had scars on my hands and right side of my face that will live with me forever. My right leg was not only afflicted with burns, but was broken in two places. The hospital was great and managed to save my leg but the result was that it was always shorter than my left and once the plaster was removed I walked with a permanent limp, due in part to the muscle damage. 

That was how on my return to school some three months later I was quickly nicknamed Gimpy Givens. It could have been worse, despite four operations, the right side my face would be scarred forever, so I could have been called scar-face.

Kids can be very cruel and school bullies always seen to pick on the weakest to test their power. There were a few in my primary years, but when they realised that I would fight back, they moved onto easier targets. 

It was when we moved up to secondary school in August of 1959 that my particular nemesis called Bullet Barnes arrived at our School. His dad was ex army and had just moved into town. Bullet wasn't his real name, but because he was a big lad for his age with a blonde crew-cut hairstyle, he was given this name by one of the PE teachers and it stuck. He was two years above me in school and more than six inches taller. He made my life a misery for the remainder of my school years. I tried to fight back and had many a scrap with him, but when your two years younger and a lot smaller than your opponent, there was only ever one winner.

I was not academically minded at school and there are many excuses I could put forward as to why, but I refuse to do so. I got used to being the butt of the teacher's jokes when I failed to answer questions that the rest of the class seemed to know. Ever since, I have loathed the Holy Fathers who made up the bulk of the teachers in our school. I guess I started to believe them when they called me stupid. By the time I reached secondary school, I was streamed into a class where the students were destined to be the steel workers; fodder for the shipyard's that needed a steady stream of strong, fit young men to help build the ships which carried Britain's exports all over the world. I wasn't all that strong and because of my limp, I would never be quick or agile enough to work in the yards. The one talent I did have was that I could draw, people, still life or animals and I could draw them accurately. Nowadays, in a different school and different environment, that talent may have been nurtured and given the chance to blossom, but not in the early sixties. 

I met a girl in school when I was fourteen and I thought she was stunning. Her name was Holly Miller and her family had recently moved to our town. She had long red hair and green eyes, at least that was what I noticed at that first meeting. Her father was a teacher at our school and she was seated next to me for registration every morning.

We got on well and she was the only one to call me by my given name, other than my mother. We were inseparable and everyone was aware that we were close. My father had passed away when I was eleven and my mother struggled to make ends meet. I never had new clothes, but this didn't bother me except when Holly asked me to take her to the School Christmas dance. I was too ashamed to admit that I didn't have the money or clothes to wear, so I told her I had something else on that night. She wasn't very pleased about my refusal and went off and asked Bullet Barnes if he would take her. Despite being two years older than Holly, he accepted straight away. Holly was quite the most beautiful girl in school with long red hair and even at just fourteen had well developed breasts that had every boy and some of the masters staring at her in admiration and lust. The night of the dance, I stood outside the school gates and watched as he escorted her. The way she looked up at him and smiled made me want to go over and fight him, even though I knew he would beat me without breaking sweat. 

After my rejection, she and Bullet became an item and were rarely seen apart. He always made a point of pulling her close to him whenever I was around. He would look over me with a smirk on his face. One of the last fights I had with him was when I was fifteen and overheard him bragging to his mates and their girlfriends that it was only a matter of time before he fucked Holly and that he had already had her half way there. He was staring at me as he said this and his eyes were challenging me to do something about it. I didn't disappoint him and I think he thought I was easy meat as he skipped away from me, taunting me to catch him, something he knew that I could never do. In the end they must have gotten bored as they moved away leaving me with calls and laughter about Gimpy Givens and his gimpy leg ringing in my ears. Holly did get to hear about this incident and my attempt to defend her honour and she came over to thank me in full view of the school. She told me. "Ignore him! Bullet Barnes has never got past first base with me. I'm sorry that you got involved, but it was very sweet of you." With that said, she leaned over and kissed me on my right cheek ignoring the scar, then left. 

I left school at the age of fifteen in the summer of 63 and went straight to work for a local building firm. I only got the job as the foreman was a friend of my mother's. Well, he was more than just a friend and he felt that he owed her. As I wasn't any use for scaffold or ladder work, I was shown how to use the cement mixer and drive the tipper or fork truck as circumstances arose. I was still only about five four in height but I was growing fast. By my sixteenth birthday, I was five eight and had put on a lot of muscle. Lifting cement bags into the mouth of the mixer and shovelling sand and cement soon built me up. There wasn't a lot of spare time, but on my lunch hours, I took to drawing my fellow workers as they ate their sandwiches and drank their tea. I always showed them the results of my efforts and many of them took them home for their wives to see.

At seventeen, I was now as fully grown as I would be and topped out at five nine and weighed in at thirteen stone. It was all muscle and I had grown in enough to be confident in my own abilities, but I was still a virgin. It wasn't as if I didn't try, but when the girls I approached y saw my scarred face they backed off. It hurt, believe me it hurt a lot.

This was the swinging 1960's, everyone was talking about the Beatles, The Stones, The Animals and the Mersey sound. Mini skirts and long hair were the fashions. Carnaby Street ruled and everything was buzzing. Somehow, it all passed me by. I was into music and along with my mates, spent most of my waking hours thinking about girls and in the evenings trying to get into their knickers. At this, I was spectacularly unsuccessful. I always seemed to end up with the nice girl who was saving herself for Mr Right or at the other end the one who looked like she had been short changed when the beauty genes were distributed. 

It was Christmas, just before my eighteenth birthday when Holly Miller came back into my life. Unfortunately, so did Bullet Barnes. My mates and I were in our local pub playing darts and having a few beers when in walked Bullet followed by some of his cronies and their girlfriends. I picked out Holly straight away and my stomach lurched. She was drop dead gorgeous. Her hair was still blonde, but no longer long, she had it cut page boy style and it accentuated her long neck. She had on a long coat, but when she took it off to reveal a short mini dress that did nothing to disguise her figure, I for one let out a gasp. She looked around as if checking to see that everyone had noticed her, she needn't have worried, even the old men supping their stout had stopped talking in admiration. She hung up her coat and Bullet handed her a drink. It was my turn to throw, with a chance at double top to win, but I was still in a turmoil, brain dead and tummy churning, so it was no surprise that I missed with all three darts, much to the amusement of my best pal, Andy Connor. He picked up his darts and proceeded to throw a one fifty one finish to win the game. The loser had to buy, so I went to the bar and ordered the round.

Bullet must have recognised me and shouted out to his friends. "Well if it isn't Gimpy Givens! How's it going Gimpy, still scarred and limping I see?"

I ignored him; he was clearly drunk and itching for a fight. I picket up our beers and he grabbed my arm causing me to spill some of the beer out of both glasses. He laughed at that and I turned to put the glasses down, he pulled me by my shoulder and spun me around, causing the rest of the ale to spill over his jeans. I laughed and ordered two more pints as he tried to throw a punch at me. I ducked easily under his wild swing and told him, "Bullet, you're drunk and in no condition to start a fight, just sit down with your pals and relax."

He was not having any of that and swung again at me. This time I reached out and grabbed his fist in mine and squeezed. He howled as I increased the pressure forcing, him down onto his knees. "I'm a lot bigger now and stronger as you can feel, so why don't you do as you're told and sit down!"

This time he did as he was told and sat down muttering oaths and swearing he would get me back. I just laughed and resumed playing darts. A short while later, I felt a hand on my arm and looked round to see Holly smiling at me. I felt as though my heart had stopped as I gazed into her deep blue eyes. "Are you not going to say hello to me?" she asked.

"I thought you were with the Bull?" I replied nodding at a dozing Bullet sitting in the corner seat. "I don't make a habit of chatting up other men's girls, even if it is very tempting in this instance."

"He asked me to accompany him and his friends down to the 'dark side' as he called it. I'm not his date or anything and I had no idea that I would meet you again." She responded.

"The 'dark side'? Is that what you call the Queens Head? This is my local and I like it in here. It's a working man's pub and proud of it. If your looking for fancy cocktails and wine spritzers, you had best go to the Golden Plough, that's the local up market establishment, it's more like your lot are used to!"

"My lot? What do you mean my lot? We have as much right to be in here as you and your lot!" she said, the contempt clear in her voice.

After that, a few more words were exchanged and she stormed off to pull Bullet to his feet. She needed the help of two of his mates to get him up and they half dragged half carried him out the door. 

I turned to see Andy Conner grinning like a Cheshire Cat at me and laughed as he said, "You've got it bad boy. She's way above your league, best leave her alone and forget her."

"You're the one that's wrong this time, I hardly know her for god's sake! I have not seen her in three years or more since she went off to University and based on one short conversation you tell me I've got it bad? You're wrong, so wrong."

Andy turned to the others and asked, "What do you think then guys? Has he got it bad or what?" 

The general agreement was that I had indeed got it bad. I refused to admit it, even to myself, but that night, sleep was hard to come by as I lay awake thinking about how I had just screwed up a golden opportunity to chat up the girl of my dreams.

Christmas Eve came and we were out celebrating. In those days, three or four live bands would be playing at the dance halls every Friday and Saturday night, none of this disco stuff in those days, no, it was real live bands playing. To be fair some of them were pretty awful and the one on stage playing when I next bumped into Holly was murdering their rendition of the Beatles Christmas number one from the previous year, 'We can work it out'.

This time Bullet was sober and talking with his friends. When he saw me approach he moved to place himself in my path. I tried to step around him, but he moved to block me off. I was getting a little pissed off with this, but what the hell, it was Christmas, so I just shrugged my shoulders and turned away. I must have been about fifteen feet away when I heard a shout of warning. I ducked and turned as his fist flew just over my head, brushing my hair as it passed. If it had connected, I would have been floored, but it missed and I was ready for his next attempted punch. I hit him with a straight left moving inside his wild swing and followed up with a right that put him down. It was all over in seconds and it was so quick that even the bouncers didn't have time to respond. I turned and went back to my friends. His pals helped him to his feet and they slunk off to the bar.

A couple of hours later, I was chatting with my friends and happened to see Bullet on the dance floor with Holly. She looked as though she was pretty drunk as she was finding it hard to stand up and fight off his hands as they tried to take advantage of her drunken condition. I was determined not to get involved, so I continued to keep an eye on events across the floor. Holly was fighting a losing battle and he was openly groping her with his hand under her dress. 

It was no good, I had to do something, so I walked over and asked her if she needed a hand. She may have been drunk, but not so drunk that she didn't recognise that she needed assistance if she was to fend off his advances. He was getting mean and told me to "fuck off." I took exception to this and pulled his arm away from Holly's waist. She spun back out of his arm and fell to the floor, exposing her trim white panties in the process. I bent to help her up when his fist crashed into the back of my skull. I saw stars for a moment and then heard the screaming start. I shook my head and when my vision cleared I saw Bullet coming at me with a wicked looking knife in his hand. I parried his thrust and grabbed his wrist. I squeezed as hard as I could on his knife hand and felt the bones crush beneath my grip. He howled in pain and started hitting me with his free hand. He got two good licks in before I head butted him and he fell away. The bouncers grabbed us both and took us towards the exit. I looked for Andy and saw he had a hold of Holly and he just nodded and gestured he would meet me outside.

We were both thrown out of the hall. Bullet was all for continuing the fight, but the police were patrolling, waiting for just such an event and he told me again that he was going to get even, but his wrist was clearly bothering him. He ran off when he saw the bouncers approach the police with his knife and told them what had happened. 

Andy had brought Holly outside following me to check I was ok. I walked Holly home and at her front door, she pulled me to her and kissed me on the lips with just a hint of tongue. I asked if I could see her again and she gave me her parents phone number. 

I spent Christmas with my mother and sisters and it was Boxing Day before I got up the nerve to call Holly. It was her mother who answered and when she asked. "Who can I say is calling?" I told her and she got straight on my case for bringing her daughter home in such a drunken state on Christmas Eve. I tried to deny it but she only stopped ranting when Holly pulled the phone from her hand. 

She apologised to me and asked. "Why don't you come round and explain what happened. I want to see you again but we need to sort this thing out first. All I remember is a fight and you bringing me home. Please say you'll come?" 

So I went round with some trepidation to face the wolf and his bitch in their lair. I got a frosty reception and after I told them about the events of Christmas Eve, they somewhat reluctantly thanked me for helping their daughter. That first meeting set the tone for all my future dealings with her parents for year's to come. Holly and I had several dates before she had to return to University. Our second date was on New Year's Eve and things got pretty steamy. We were in my mother's front room. Mother was out with her 'friend' and had told me not to expect her back before morning and not to do anything stupid. She knew Holly was coming round that night.

I was excited, there were very few places you could take a girl in those days, especially in winter. I didn't have a car, so that option was out and her parents never left us alone for more than five minutes when we were round there. 

My mother must have been psychic or something. I didn't have a condom, you couldn't just buy them in any corner shop or petrol station in those days. No, they could only be purchased at the Pharmacy where the counter assistants would likely be young girls with whom you went to school. It was embarrassing to ask someone you knew or who you went to school with for a pack of Durex as you knew word would get round and every girl you courted would have her morality called into question. 

In any case, I had never had the need to procure one before as I was still a virgin and as was Holly when I asked if she had taken precautions or if she had any protection to offer? 

She was understandably upset and asked indignantly. "Just what kind of a girl do you think I am?" 


Working Class Hero



"A working class hero is something to be ... ...If you want to be a hero, well just follow me." John Lennon

^ ^ ^ ^

Johnny McMullen stared at the piece of paper in his hands, and felt a cold sweat break out all over his body, despite the unseasonably warm late-winter day.

It had come out of a sealed envelope with his name on it that had been placed under the windshield wiper of his pickup truck, which had been parked in the lot at the foundry where he worked as a master machinist.

As he read it, he could feel his whole world spinning out of control, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment to gain some equilibrium.

The message had consisted of two sentences, set in fairly large type in some commonly-used font. It read:

"Your wife is getting awfully chummy with one of the attorneys at her work. Don't think anything has happened yet, but it's headed that way fast unless you act NOW."

That was it. No salutation nor end line, and nothing on the envelope, either, except his name. Just the damning message, toxic as it was.

Johnny's first inclination was to wad the message up and forget it. The thought that Patricia would cheat on him was preposterous -- or it would have been up until a few weeks earlier.

But the message crystallized some niggling little things that had -- up to that point -- been bubbling under the surface of his consciousness, nothing he could really point to that would indicate his wife was considering stepping out on their marriage, but there nonetheless.

Now, suddenly, everything had been brought into focus, and he had to consider, for the first time, the possibility of a life without Patricia.

As much as it would hurt -- and it would hurt a lot -- he knew that if Patricia had an adulterous affair, it would mean the end of their marriage.

Johnny was certain he could forgive her if she cheated on him. After all, forgiveness was the Christian thing to do, and he had always tried to live his live as closely as he could to Christian values.

But he would never be able to forget it, and the level of disrespect and disloyalty such an act would show wasn't something he could live with. He knew it would eat him up from the inside out and poison everything in his life. Respect and loyalty were two of the most important things in Johnny's life, and he simply couldn't stay married to someone who wasn't loyal or respectful to him.

In spite of that, he could feel his eyes misting because the thought of losing Patricia was almost more than he could bear.

He'd first met Patricia Simmons in high school, and they'd been attracted to each other from the first. But it wasn't until a year or so after they'd met that they finally started dating, and they had quickly become an item.

They were actually a fairly mismatched couple, but that just proves that opposites attract. Patricia was a tall girl, almost 5-foot-10, and well-built, while Johnny was a shade under 5-foot-9. He had sandy blond hair with brown eyes; she had dark hair with blue eyes and a dazzling smile. 

She was the oldest of three daughters born to a banker, and had grown up in fairly affluent surroundings, while he was the son of a machinist and a stay-at-home mom who earned extra income for the family as a professional seamstress.

The difference between Johnny's upbringing and Patricia's background would provide the only real conflict in what everyone said was a love that was meant to be.

He could still remember their first sexual encounter, and he smiled even in his pain. It had been a Saturday in early spring, after they had been dating about a year, the first really nice day of the year. 

His baseball team had played a scrimmage game that afternoon, since the start of the season was just a week or so away, and they were driving home, sitting close. Real close.

Johnny was driving the old Ford pickup his dad had helped him buy. He'd put a good cassette tape player and a couple of fine speakers in it, kept the engine in tip-top condition and -- voila! -- he had a ride that he could take Patricia out in.

They'd ended up at the Little League park just as dusk was descending. They parked in a fairly secluded corner of the park and started necking furiously.

Johnny and Patricia had been exploring each other's lush bodies with their hands for a couple of months now, as their relationship had deepened.

Johnny's hands cupped Patricia's plump breasts, and her hands had found the throbbing lump in the shorts he'd put on after getting out of his uniform pants. Their lips were in hyperdrive and their tongues were slashing at each other like swordsmen as their passion climbed ever higher.

Suddenly, Patricia's hand slid under the waistband of Johnny's shorts and came into direct contact with his hard meat.

"Oh my," Patricia said, with mock alarm. "What have we here?"

"Don't start something there you can't finish," Johnny said with a husky voice.

"Do I turn you on?" Patricia whispered as she began to jack his cock softly in his pants. "Why don't you show me?"

"Only if you show me yours," Johnny said with a grin.

Patricia gave it a moment's thought, then quickly shimmied her tight shorts off her legs, followed by her cotton panties. Seconds later, Patricia had Johnny's shorts pooled around his ankles, his hard cock waving in the air.

Johnny's hands gravitated immediately to the junction of Patricia's legs to the wet valley of her hot pussy. He'd had a couple of girlfriends before Patricia, so he wasn't unacquainted with the female anatomy, and he began to roll her hard little clit, then slid two fingers in her juicy pie.

Patricia, on the other hand, had never seen a live cock before, but she'd talked with her girlfriends and read enough to know a little about them. Johnny's cock was a little larger than average, though nothing unusual, and she quickly got into a rhythm.

She quickly figured out that the clear fluid bubbling out of the tip of his dick was natural lubricant, and she deftly smeared the stuff all over the head of his cock. She loved the way it twitched in her hand, and she really loved the way Johnny's fingers were delving into her increasingly-horny pussy.

"Oh God, baby, I want you so bad," Johnny said as he built up a froth between his girl's legs.

"I want you too, my love," Patricia said. "But we'd better not. I don't want to get pregnant -- at least not right now. Soon. I promise."

"You need to finish this," Johnny said with a gasp. "Do you have any hand lotion?"

Patricia quickly fished in her purse and found a tube of lotion. She squeezed out a generous dollop onto Johnny's dick and began to massage the cream up and down the shaft. Meanwhile, Johnny returned his attention to Patricia' puss, working his hand in a frenzy as the urge to come built rapidly to a head.

"Look out, here ... it comes!" he shouted seconds before spewing a fountain of cum into the air that splattered on his abdomen and all over Patricia's hands.

Her eyes were wide in surprise, and no small amount of delight, at the display of orgasm her boyfriend had put on, and that -- along with the work of Johnny's fingers in her cunt -- gave her the first climax she'd ever had that she hadn't given herself.

She shuddered as the intense feelings washed through her body, and she felt almost giddy at what they'd just experienced.

Johnny just slumped back in the seat, sated and satisfied. He respected Patricia's desire not to get pregnant, and if she'd do what she'd just done on a regular basis, she wouldn't have to worry so much about a baby.

"We'd better get dressed, before the cops show up," Johnny said, and his timing was impeccable, because they had no more gotten cleaned up and put their pants back on when a police cruiser rolled into the park 

The cop had stopped them just to check them out, but let them off with a warning to be careful.

It didn't take Johnny long after that to start stocking up on condoms, nor did it take Patricia any time to find a discrete family friend who helped her get on contraceptives. 

^ ^ ^ ^

Johnny was not the least bit apologetic about growing up in a working-class environment. He was proud of his father and had eagerly followed him into the foundry after he'd graduated from junior college.

John and Eva -- Johnny's parents -- had raised three kids in a small but lively home in a working-class neighborhood of small houses. Johnny had an older sister and a younger brother.

The couple actually had had four children, but a daughter they'd had 18 months after Johnny's birth had been born with underdeveloped lungs and had only lived two days. 

John and Eva never forgot their little girl and made sure their other kids didn't either. It made them appreciate what they had, and how quickly it can be taken away, and that's a lesson Johnny and his siblings learned and took to heart.

Johnny's little brother had been the golden boy of the family. Danny was off-the-charts intelligent, graduated with highest honors in high school, had gone to college and become the first of the family to earn a degree from a four-year university, then had gone to work for a chemical company for which he was now head of research.

Although he envied his brother to a degree, Johnny had never begrudged Danny's success. He was proud of his brother, and Danny always said he looked up to Johnny.

Johnny, in fact, was no dummy, but he'd never really liked school work, preferring to work with his hands. His passion as a kid was baseball, and he'd been good enough to start at shortstop for his high school as a junior and senior, and then went on to play two years of junior college ball.

He knew that was as far as he would go in baseball and in college. He was a very good fielder and not a bad hitter, but he was realistic enough to know he didn't quite have what it took to make it at a four-year college, on the field or in the classroom.

Besides, he'd always known what he wanted to do with his life, and that was to follow his father and fix machines. So he'd focused on tech courses -- plus a few academic subjects that interested him -- during his two years of college.

By the time he finished junior college, he was 20-years-old, ready to marry the love of his life and go to work.

In the years since, Johnny had moved up to become one of the foundry's master machinists, and he'd also gotten deeply involved in the union. Just a few months earlier, he'd enjoyed one of the proudest moments of his life when he was elected president of the local, after serving in several official capacities over the years.

That was one reason he'd never taken the company up on its offers to move into a management position. He believed in the union and felt like moving into management would be a sign of disloyalty to the guys in the ranks. 

And, too, he still loved getting his hands dirty on a piece of machinery, taking it apart and figuring out what was wrong with it, or just doing the routine work that kept things running.

Patricia hadn't been entirely pleased that he'd turned down efforts to move up in the company, but she understood that was what made him happy. Or at least she'd always said that.

After marrying at age 21, they had waited five years before having their daughter, Brittany, then three years later their son Daniel had come along.

Fairly early in their marriage they had found a house in one of the outlying areas of the city and they had bought it. It was small, probably no more than 1,000 square feet, but it sat on a lot that was slightly over an acre and backed onto some woods. Johnny loved traipsing through those woods when he needed some solitude.

Johnny was a frugal man who believed in staying out of debt as much as possible, and they were getting closer and closer to paying off the mortgage, although they still had a couple of years left on the note. 

He and Patricia had passed age 40 the previous year and were approaching their 20th anniversary. At the time, they'd seemed more in love that ever, but now it appeared that dark clouds were building that could threaten their happiness.

It was with all of this in mind that Johnny folded the letter, replaced it in the envelope and headed for home. Later that night, he'd have a couple of phone calls to make, but for the time being he had to act normally -- if that was possible.

^ ^ ^ ^

Patricia McMullen sat at the table that took up half of the den area of their small house and stared out the window. She knew she should be getting dinner together, but she couldn't motivate herself to get it going, and she'd about decided they'd just go out for pizza.

She knew at a subconscious level that the thoughts and fantasies she'd been harboring lately were wrong, but she couldn't help herself.

She looked around the house at the way everything was stacked up all over the place, and she dreamed of a bigger house. Her home was neat and well-kept, but it was small, and with two adults, a 14-year-old daughter and an 11-year-old son, the family was all but on top of each other.

Johnny had promised her that they might consider looking at something new, when the weather turned warmer, but thus far nothing had been said or done.

Patricia longed for the kind of house she'd grown up in, a nice big two-story house with lots of room. She'd adapted to living in a small house, but she'd never quite gotten used to it.

Moreover, she missed having the ability to buy whatever she wanted when she wanted. She knew it was selfish to think that way, but again she couldn't help it. Although they each made decent money at their jobs, it was still a battle every month to stay ahead of the bills and sock money back for savings.

Her folks had warned her when she agreed to marry Johnny what she could expect, but she'd been crazy in love and didn't listen. And, as time passed, the Simmons had warmed to Johnny, to the point where they now considered him the son they'd never had, more so than their other two sons, both of whom were rather humorless businessmen.

Johnny, on the other hand, was always full of stories, full of laughter, and he was always stopping by hiss to fix this or repair that. He knew they hadn't entirely approved of their daughter's marriage to him, so he'd always gone out of his way to ingratiate himself to them.

Patricia worked as a legal secretary for the law firm of Bradberry, Bradberry and Wilson, which had been founded by Richard Bradberry many years ago. Mr. Bradberry had died suddenly just a few months before, and the firm had passed to the control of his son, Randall.

Randall was well-liked around the office, as his father had been, but it had still been a difficult adjustment without Richard Bradberry's firm hand. Randall was still feeling his way around the power that came with control of the firm, and that had been a boon to the newest member of the firm, William Broadacres.

William had come to the firm about a year earlier after several years as a legal sharpie in Washington, D.C. He'd come highly recommended, and he'd already made something of a splash in local circles. He was rich -- both on his own accord and from family money -- tall and handsome. And aggressive.

He had immediately cast covetous eyes on the pretty brunette secretary, and had made a decision to take her for himself. It was something he'd done wherever he went. He had a way of finding a woman's vulnerabilities and taking advantage of them.

He'd sized up Patricia McMullen as someone who was dissatisfied with the life she'd fallen into as a working-class wife and mother, and used that to drive a small wedge between her and her husband.

And what of the husband? He'd met Johnny McMullen once, at Richard Bradberry's wake, and while he admitted that the man was good-looking, he didn't think a mere factory worker could stand up to him, his money, his position and his charms.

Patricia mentally castigated herself as a warm flash rushed through her at the thought of William. She was a happily-married woman, she told herself, with a man most women would kill for. Johnny was handsome, strong, pleasant to be around, a hard worker and she had never loved anyone else, never come close.

But curiosity is a funny thing, and she'd never had sex with any other man besides her husband -- never come close.

And William was definitely easy on the eyes, and he was definitely interested in her. She felt a connection with him she'd never had with another man besides Johnny, and it had her utterly confused.

He'd taken her to lunch a few times, and when he looked at her and listened to her, she felt like she was in confession, with a priest who looked like some movie star.

She had admitted her dissatisfaction with her life, something she'd never done with anyone before, and William had been sympathetic, telling her she deserved the kind of life she'd enjoyed in her youth, one of privilege, and hinting that he could provide her that kind of life.

Just the previous week, things had taken a decided turn.

She had surprised her co-workers be agreeing to go with them on their weekly Friday night girls' night out, and they had gone to a dance club, and who should be there, alone, but William Broadacres.

The girls had invited him to their table, where he turned on his charm for all of them, but especially for Patricia. She was the one he danced all the slow dances with, and a lot of the faster ones as well.

There had definitely been some underlying sexual tension between them, and a couple of the other secretaries exchanged knowing looks as they watched the two of them together.

And now he had invited her to dinner, just the two of them. Patricia hadn't said yes, but she hadn't said no, either. 

Johnny would be working the swing shift the next week as the foundry went through a turnaround, so she'd have the opportunity. But could she go through with it? If she did, she'd have to do it behind his back, and that was wrong, she knew it.

However, it would only be dinner and conversation between friends, right? Nothing was going to happen, right?

It was in that state of mental and emotional turmoil that she heard Johnny's truck pull in, and she banished all the bad thoughts she'd been having. She plastered a smile on her face and stood up to greet her husband at the kitchen door.

^ ^ ^ ^

Dinner at the pizza place had been unusually subdued. Patricia had been detached and Johnny had been distracted, and even the kids noticed that their parents weren't as demonstrative as they usually were.

Johnny was trying to put his thoughts in order, to line up the clues that told him Patricia might be on the verge of a very bad decision.

For one, Patricia was moody. He could have attributed that to the onset of menopause, but he thought she was still a little young for that. 

But there was no denying that she was occasionally bitchy about things she'd accepted in years past. She was complaining more and more often about the house, how they didn't have any room, how they never went anywhere (which wasn't true, and she knew it). 

For another, their sex life had become a little erratic. Until a few months earlier, they had kept to a pretty regular schedule, making love three or four times a week, with a special date once a month on a Saturday night. 

Now, they might have sex five or six times a week, then go a week or more without. And during the times when they made love a lot, Patricia was frantic, almost desperate, like she was trying to use sex to shore up her feelings for Johnny.

Finally, there was the night out she'd had, "with the girls from the office," just the week before. Johnny wasn't much of a barfly, and certainly not to the kinds of dance clubs these girls frequented. 

He might have a couple of beers at the tavern down the block from the union hall every so often, usually after a meeting, but that was all the social life Johnny wanted or needed. And Patricia had come home excited that night, almost giddy, and she had dragged him to bed and jumped his bones in a way she hadn't done in a long time.




Working Class Hero



That wasn't a lot of evidence that an affair was going on, or even imminent, but those were signs of discontent that anyone could pick up, if they knew what to look for.

Johnny walked out into the yard with his cell phone when the family returned home. The moon was already up, nearly full, as he made two important phone calls. He was still on the phone for the second call when Patricia came out to see what he was up to.

"Johnny, are you out here?" Patricia called, as she saw his shadowy figure in the drive.

"Yeah, I'll be inside in a minute," Johnny said to his wife, then returned his attention to the call. "Look, I gotta go. Thanks for the info. I'll let you know how it goes."

"Who were you talking to?" Patricia asked as she watched Johnny put away his phone.

"Union business," he replied, without elaborating. He cursed under his breath at having to lie to Patricia, but it couldn't be helped.

"Oh," she said without conviction. "Johnny, is something bothering you? You were awfully quiet tonight. Even the kids noticed."

"Yeah, I'm all right," he said, as he gathered his wife in his arms., but looked over her shoulder at nothing in particular. "Just a tough day getting ready for turnaround."

Patricia let the emotions wash over her as she stood in the slight chill of early evening in the arms of her husband. There was confusion, concern, a bit of guilt and a pinch of frustration running through her heart. Suddenly, Johnny brought her back to reality with a piercing question.

"Patricia, do you still love me?" Johnny asked.

"Of course I do," she said, a little nervously. "What kind of question is that?"

"Are you happy with me, with our marriage?" Johnny asked again.

"I ... am," she said slowly, a little suspicious. "Johnny what's this all about?"

"Oh, nothing," he said. "I just get the feeling sometimes that you're not satisfied, that we've gotten into a little rut. It's nothing I can put my finger on, but something's not right."

Johnny didn't want to reveal everything he knew about what was going on in Patricia's private life. He didn't want to put her on alert too much, but he did want to get some of his feelings and thoughts into the open, for her to consider.

He'd made up his mind that he wasn't going to resort to trickery or following his wife around to see if she stayed faithful. He didn't have the time, the money or the inclination for that. Either she was with him or she wasn't, and it would be up to her to make that call.

If she stepped out on him, he'd know pretty quickly, and he would take the appropriate action if it became necessary.

"Maybe we have gotten into a bit of a rut," Patricia whispered. "Come on, let's go inside. It's a bit chilly out here, and maybe I can warm you up the right way."

"That sounds good," Johnny said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

With a sigh, he turned them toward the carport and the side door to the house.

^ ^ ^ ^

Johnny lay on his back listening to Patricia's soft snoring, the sweat of their earlier lovemaking still drying on his skin.

As sex went, it had only been OK. It was sort of like they were just going through the motions that night, like each of their minds were off some place else.

He smiled, but it was a slightly sad smile, as he recalled their wedding night. Even after almost 20 years it was still the highlight of their sexual history.

They had driven his pickup truck six hours to the beachfront condo in Panama City, where they were going to spend a week on their honeymoon.

The trip had been a gift from Johnny's father, with help from the old man's buddies in the union. It had been their way of welcoming the kid into the fold. Of course, when he got back to work, Johnny had to endure the bawdy gibes from the guys about what had gone on in Florida, but Johnny would always smile and think to himself, "if only they knew."

They had been tired after the long day, but they were still keyed up in anticipation of the night to come. 

It had been a typical Catholic wedding -- a long ceremony, with a lot of standing and kneeling, up and down, up and down -- then the reception had been a bit taxing. Mr. Simmons had spared no expense in putting on the finest reception he could for his daughter. 

It was dark by the time they arrived at the condo, and Johnny could feel the butterflies in his stomach as they rode the elevator to their floor and walked arm-in-arm down the breezeway.

It had been a month since they'd made love, abstaining for several reasons, and they were hot to go. Johnny sort of picked up his bride at the threshold of the doorway, and they kissed deeply.

They didn't even bother to unpack. Still kissing wildly, Johnny maneuvered Patricia backward into the bedroom. As they duck-walked toward the bed, Johnny found the zipper to Patricia's dress and by the time they reached the bed, the dress had fallen to the floor.

Patricia's eyes were on fire as she unbuttoned her husband's shirt and threw it aside. Her hands fumbled for the belt to his pants, to the hard cock she was desperate for. She was panting already, her whole being tight as a bowstring, sitting on the edge of climax, and she hadn't even been touched yet.

Johnny saw the wild look in his wife's eyes, and that just inflamed his lust. He didn't think he would ever get tired of this woman -- indeed, 20 years later, he still wanted her -- and he left little kisses down Patricia's neck as he unfastened her bra.

Patricia didn't even wait for Johnny; she pulled the covers back, flopped onto the bed, slid her panties off and opened her legs in wanton invitation.

"Please, Johnny, please, fuck me," she wailed as she reached down and spread open the dripping gates to her sex. "I need it now. You can love me later. Right now, I need you and I need you to fuck ... me ... hard!"

Johnny's cock was a throbbing piece of iron-hard meat as he crawled into the bed and knelt between his wife's open legs. He marveled at the intense look of lust on her face as she strummed her clit while she waited for him to fuck her.

He didn't mess around. He placed the head of his cock to Patricia's opening and thrust forward with all the power his muscular hips could produce.

Johnny hadn't even gotten all the way in before Patricia completely lost it. She'd been sitting on a tinderbox of pent-up passion for days, and when she finally got what she'd been craving, that passion went up in white-hot flames.

Her moans and keens were other-worldly as her whole body shook with the explosive climax, the likes of which she'd never experienced before, nor ever would again. Her body was taking Johnny's frenzied thrusts and then some. In fact, he said later that he now knew what bull-riders felt. All he could do was hang on and ride it out.

Johnny did his best to hold back the raging tide of his own climax, but Patricia was having none of it. She wanted his cum, and she wanted it NOW!

And she got what she wanted. With a growl, Johnny hit a blistering pace for maybe a dozen extraordinarily deep thrusts then spewed jet after jet of molten-hot cum. 

Johnny and Patricia just clutched at each other as the orgasm rippled from one to the other, as Johnny kept churning his cock back and forth in her soupy cunt. 

The deep kisses, the electric feeling of their sweat-covered bodies and the feeling of his semen sloshing around his cock had the effect of reigniting their lust, as they segued right into another passionate session.

Patricia could feel another one of "those" climaxes building, one where she seemed to be having an out-of-body experience, and Johnny just kept working, plowing his cock relentlessly as the fuck frenzy nearly overwhelmed them both.

As Patricia went rigid with her second powerful climax, Johnny felt another orgasm coming from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, and he sent another hard load of cum into his wife's flooded canal. This one wasn't quite as powerful as the first, but it felt just as good.

Afterward, they had laid together in the sweaty afterglow of their first fuck as a married couple and pledged their undying love for each other.

Where had that gone? Johnny could only wonder. Was their love really dying, or was this just one of those phases that all married couples go through? Was Patricia really set on cheating or was he reading too much into the situation?

It was in that troubled state of mind that Johnny rolled over, snuggled up to his wife -- who spooned back into him, he noted gratefully -- and drifted off to sleep

^ ^ ^ ^

Things went downhill quickly that week. On Friday, the girls had again invited Patricia to accompany them to the club where they went every Friday, and she'd gone with them again. As was the case the week before, William had been there, almost like he knew in advance what was up.

Once again, they adjourned to a dance club and once again, William had monopolized Patricia's time. 

This time, he'd taken a few liberties, squeezing her butt a few times and grinding into her pelvic area with his groin. Each time, Patricia pushed him away, but she was giggly about it, and took it as just a joke.

When Johnny got home from work, he had been met with a message on the answering machine that Patricia was going out straight from work, and his blood began to boil. Later, he got a quick phone call, and his lips had a grim set to them when he was finished.

Patricia got home about 10:30 that night to find Johnny with an angry look on his face.

"Where in the hell have you been?" he snarled.

"I left you a message," she answered. "I went out with the girls from the office. They were nice enough to invite me and I decided I wanted to have a little fun. Is that a crime?"

"What the fuck has gotten into you?" he said. "All of a sudden you've become some barfly, some party girl? And did it ever occur to you that I might want to enjoy a night out too? Or was that the whole idea? To go out alone without your husband, with a bunch of single women?"

"What is this? Do you suddenly not trust me?" she answered. Patricia had had just enough to drink to be bold, even slightly belligerent, which was not her nature. "You think I'm screwing around on you?"

"Are you?" Johnny spat back.

"Fuck you! I don't have to listen to this," Patricia said as she turned on her heel and stalked off to the bedroom. 

She failed to notice that the door to Brittany's bedroom was cracked and that their daughter was hearing everything that was going on. 

Daniel was on a sleepover with a friend, but Brittany had come home an hour or so earlier after hanging out at the mall with her friends. She and her father had sat together and talked a little about some thing that were on their minds.

Patricia slammed the door to their bedroom and locked it, but that didn't last long.

"Patricia, unlock this door now, because if you don't I'll break it down, and you don't want me to do that," he said in a low, deceptively calm voice. "Trust me."

Patricia may have been angry -- as much with herself as she was with her husband -- but she knew the tone in Johnny's voice. It was one she'd only heard a few times, and each time somebody got their butt kicked. Or came perilously close to it.

Johnny had a pretty even disposition, and was considered one of the nicest guys around. But he was of Irish descent, and he did have a temper that he took great pains to suppress. Patricia had seen him when he'd been provoked to real anger, and it was something she wanted no part of, especially when it was directed at her. 

She knew she'd pushed him too far, so she quickly walked over, unlocked the door then retreated to the bathroom, where she dissolved in bitter tears. She couldn't understand what was happening to her, to her life. They'd had it so good, and now, suddenly, it was falling apart.

Eventually, they had kissed and made up, each apologizing for getting angry, but there was still a sense of foreboding around the McMullen house that weekend, like there was an uneasy truce.

Part of what was fueling Patricia's feelings was the fact that William had once again invited her to have dinner with him at one of the city's finest restaurants, and this time she'd said yes. 

Why was she tempting fate like that? She'd asked herself that question over and over, and the answers she found sounded hollow.

She told herself that William understood her, where she'd come from and what she wanted out of life. She told herself that she missed the finer things in life she'd had growing up as a banker's daughter that she didn't have as a workingman's wife. She told herself that William cut a more dashing figure, a more suave look than her more compact, more average-looking husband. She told herself that she was physically drawn to William, like a moth to a flame.

She told herself all of these things, but did she really believe them? In her heart, if she was honest with herself, she knew she was rationalizing, inventing excuses for a possible affair, an affair she knew could only end in nothing but heartbreak for everyone.

She told herself, finally, that nothing would happen. Again. She wouldn't let anything happen. Would she?

^ ^ ^ ^

Turnaround at the foundry was the annual week-long period the company used to overhaul and make needed repairs and upkeep on the equipment. Production was halted for the duration while the maintenance crew did its work.

For several weeks, company engineers had inspected every inch of the plant, taking note of such things as metal fatigue, cracks or flaws in pipes and buckets, worn parts in machinery. Anything that could fail and jeopardize the production process or put workers in harm's way was noted and placed on the turnaround schedule.

In addition to the regular maintenance crews, the company typically hired temporary workers, journeymen provided by the various unions that the company used -- machinists, pipe fitters, boilermakers, teamsters and laborers -- plus other professionals who had more specialized skills.

It was a 24-hour-a-day effort for about a week, give or take a day or two, depending on how quickly the work was finished. The schedule required some of the regulars to work abnormal shifts to get the repairs done in a timely manner so production could resume as soon as possible.

Johnny had been assigned the swing shift, requiring him to work from 2:30 until 11 at night, with a half-hour dinner break.

He usually didn't mind the swing shift, but this time it was a real inconvenience, because it wouldn't allow him to be home in the evenings to confront this crisis that was brewing in his marriage.

Even though he told himself he wasn't going to shadow his wife or try to coerce her into some sort of admission of guilt, he had no plans to stand idly by while Patricia cheated on him. He'd already taken some steps to insure that he was as informed as he could possibly be of what she was doing, where she was going and who she was with.

It was on Wednesday night, around dinner, when he got a text message on his cell phone. It consisted of three words that were like daggers to his heart: "tonight's the night."

The rest of the night, he had trouble concentrating on his work for worrying about what Patricia was doing and who she was doing it with.

Would he still have a viable marriage when he got home that night? It almost broke his heart to realize that he might not.. 

^ ^ ^ ^

Patricia had a vague feeling of dread as she applied her make-up. She was wearing a cocktail dress she had only worn once or twice for special outings. Why she'd picked it out of her closet mystified her, but she had to admit, it looked good on her. It was snug, but not tight, emphasizing her lush curves, the plump breasts and the succulent butt.

Her emotions were all over the map over her pending dinner date with William. One minute she was telling herself she shouldn't be doing this, going out to dinner with some man not her husband. The next minute she was defiantly arguing that she was a big girl and she could do whatever she wanted, and that she was entitled to have a little fun.

She was concentrating so furiously on the argument going on in her head that she didn't hear Brittany come in the room until her daughter suddenly spoke up.

"Where are you going decked out like that, Mom?" Brittany asked.

"I'm meeting a friend for dinner." Patricia said, a little nervously.

"Is this friend male or female?" Brittany said.

"That's none of your business, young lady," Patricia bristled.

"That's what I thought," Brittany said. "I just hope you realize that when you and Daddy get divorced, I'm staying with him."

"We're not getting a divorce," Patricia said. "What makes you think we are?"

"You will be if you keep doing what you're doing ... Mom," Brittany said. "And it will all be your fault. Look at you. Daddy's working his ass off to provide for us, and you're getting dressed up to go out and cheat on him."

"I am not going to cheat on your father!" Patricia said. 

"Yeah, right," Brittany said as she spun around and stalked out of her parents' bedroom.

William Broadacres was at his most charming as he regaled Patricia with stories of his exploits in court, the settlements he'd won, the vacations to exotic climes he'd taken, the big house he'd bought in the city's most exclusive neighborhood, the possessions he owned.

He'd been mildly disappointed when she showed up for their date in a long peasant-style skirt with a long-sleeved blouse and a buttoned-down vest. He'd hoped for something a little more revealing. But it was no matter, he'd have it off of her by the end of the night, regardless of what she wore.

Patricia was only half-listening. She was replaying the conversation with her daughter in her mind. If Brittany had figured out what was going on, then she must not have been as circumspect as she thought she'd been.

Moreover, the talk of divorce and the prospect of losing her family had forced her to shed the scales from her eyes, the ones that had been blinding her to what she was doing.

Suddenly, she knew what she had to do. She just hoped it wasn't too late.

"William, I'm sorry, but I can't do this," she said as she stood up and reached for her purse, "Thanks for the drink, but I really have to go home. This was a big mistake. I'm sorry."

With that, she turned and walked briskly from the restaurant, got in her car and headed for home. On the way, she did something she very rarely did, and that was stop at the liquor store for a pint bottle of Crown Royal, her drink of choice when she needed something to calm her nerves.

She'd been acting a fool, and she'd finally realized it, admitting it to herself. William Broadacres was a seducer, who did not have her best interests at heart. He might look good on the surface, but she had a man -- a real man -- already, and he'd always stood by her, through thick and thin.

And this was how she repaid him? By getting on a slippery slope toward adultery? She was deeply ashamed of herself, and when she arrived at their small -- but cozy -- little home, she lost it and burst into tears as she sat behind the wheel of her car. 

She'd come so close to losing the best thing that had ever happened to her. Indeed, she wondered if she'd already lost him by the way she'd acted in recent weeks. She could only pray it wasn't too late.

^ ^ ^ ^

Johnny was bone-ass tired, in his body and in his soul, when he pulled his pickup truck into the space next to Patricia's car. He noted dully that she was home, which didn't prove anything one way or another. He did touch the hood as he walked to the door and was pleasantly surprised to find it cold, meaning she'd been home for quite some time.

But that still didn't change the fact that his wife had gone out to meet another man behind his back, to do who knows what. 




Working Class Hero



The house was dark, except for the light over the kitchen sink and the light in the hall that led to the bedrooms, so he was startled when he heard the clink of ice in a glass coming from the darkened living room.

"Patricia?" he said softly.

He could see her backlit from the light in the hallway, and the look on her face cut him to the core. 

He could tell from the wet streaks down her cheeks that she'd been crying, and as they stared at each other, she drained the glass and he turned instinctively to the kitchen counter, where he now noticed the half-empty bottle.

"Are you OK?" he said as he sat on the chair opposite where Patricia was sitting.

"No, I'm not," Patricia whispered. "Johnny, I've been ... an idiot, a fool. I let a slick-talking bastard get a lot further toward seducing me than I ever should have, and I just hope you can forgive me for almost wrecking our marriage."

"Have you cheated on me?" Johnny asked.

"No. No, I haven't," Patricia said. "But I've been doing things that I shouldn't have been doing, and tonight I ... I met him for dinner. I kept telling myself that I was just meeting a friend for conversation, but I was kidding myself. He thought he was going to get lucky tonight, and he might have, if your daughter hadn't made me face the cold, hard reality of what I was doing."

"Brittany? What did she have to do with this?" Johnny said.

Patricia told Johnny about the conversation she'd had with their daughter, and how it had been what finally penetrated her consciousness about where she'd been headed.

"So, who is this 'slick bastard,' you've been making time with?" Johnny said.

"William Broadacres; he's a lawyer with the firm, and I haven't been making time with him," Patricia said. "At least ... Oh hell, I don't know. I don't know anything any more. I've been so confused, so frustrated. I love you, Johnny, but ... I don't know. I'm tired of the four of us living almost on top of each other. We have no room any more, and you've promised that we might start looking to buy a bigger house, but nothing's materialized. I'm starting to feel old, now that I've passed 40, and I guess I bought some of his flattery. I don't know. Maybe he made me feel sexy, or something. Johnny, I've been so messed up in my mind; I've lost track of what's really important, and it scares me to death. We've had a good marriage, a good life together, and it frightens me to think about how easily I almost let it slip away."

"Sweetheart, I'm always here for you; all you have to do is ask," Johnny said, as he got up and walked over to where his wife was sitting. He pulled her up from where she was sitting and held her at arm's length.

"But, honey, always remember that you're everything to me. You're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me, but I'm not going to share you. Either you're mine or you're not, and if you're not, then we'll go our separate ways, and you can live the life you want, with whomever you want."

"No! God, no!" Patricia cried, and she threw herself in Johnny's arms. "I don't have a life without you. I realize that now. Maybe I just needed to get slapped around, figuratively speaking, but I know I can't make it without you, either. Maybe I don't tell you enough how much I love you and how much I appreciate how hard you work to provide a life for us, but I do, very much."

"I guess you know I'm not happy about any of this," Johnny said. "It disappoints me that you could be lured into anything that could even be seen peripherally as improper. Did you think you were invisible? That people couldn't see what was happening?"

"You knew something was going on, didn't you," Patricia said. "That's what that business was last week, asking me if I still loved you. So why didn't you say something then?"

"Patricia, I can't force you to love me," Johnny said, with deep emotion. "This had to be something you worked out on your own, something you had to decide yourself. You had to make up your own mind what you wanted, and if I'd confronted you about it then, you may have backed off, but it wouldn't have been your decision. You'd have done it for me, not yourself. Or you may have gotten defensive and denied it, and maybe decided to go ahead with an affair just to spite me. I didn't know how you'd react."

"Johnny, I'd never do that," Patricia said. 

"How do I know that?" he replied. "I didn't think you'd fall prey to some 'slick bastard,' either, and go out behind my back like you did tonight."

Patricia just stared at her husband as it started to sink in just how hurt he was by what she'd done already. Heaven forbid if she'd actually gone through with it and taken that final step into adultery, she thought with a shudder.

Just the mere act of going behind his back for a dinner date had wounded their relationship, and she castigated herself for letting it get that far.

"Johnny?" she said in a very small voice. "Can we get past this? Can you still love me after what I've done?"

Johnny gazed deeply into the eyes of this woman he'd loved forever, and he felt something elemental brewing in his gut. It had been a week since they had made love, and he felt it in his bones, the need to reclaim what was his. 

Even though he believed Patricia was telling him the truth about not having had sex with Broadacres, he still felt that he'd defiled her just by making the attempt and getting as far as he did. And it pissed him off.

"I'm going to get a shower and clean up," he said abruptly. "Meet me in the bedroom. We're not done here."

Patricia was bewildered by Johnny's sudden mood change. At first he'd been conciliatory, somewhat understanding. But suddenly, it was like a veil had fallen over his heart, and she was worried that perhaps it was too late, that he wasn't going to forgive her.

She looked over at the bottle of bourbon, contemplating one final drink, then shook her head. She'd had too much to drink already, and she needed what clarity she could muster to get through the next hour or so. 

She knew her marriage to Johnny was teetering on the edge of collapse and she knew she had to do everything in her power to bring them back from the brink of disaster, a disaster she knew she had precipitated, and she needed to do it now.

^ ^ ^ ^

The bedside lamp was the only light in the bedroom as Johnny emerged from the bathroom after his customary after-work shower. He stopped short when he saw what awaited him in their bedroom.

Patricia was standing by the bed, in a pose that could only be described as submissive, wearing only a pair of thigh-high stockings and a pair of high heels. She'd brushed her dark, shoulder-length hair until it looked like polished onyx, and had re-applied her makeup rather thickly.

"I've been acting like a slut wannabee," she said softly. "So, tonight, I want you to treat me like one."

Johnny almost chuckled in amazement. It was just one more bit of evidence that they were truly a pair, because he'd been thinking along those very same lines while he showered. He needed to take back what was his, and take it back with authority, and apparently Patricia had the same sense of urgency.

His cock sprang to attention as his eyes swept over the vision in front of him. God, but she was a goddess! Still beautiful, still built like a brick shithouse, and still his, in spite of the temptation she'd faced.

He softly caressed his hard meat as he walked slowly to where Patricia was standing, her eyes downcast. Abruptly, he spoke and the tone was harsh.

"On your knees, woman," he barked, and she immediately dropped to the floor. "Suck it."

She took his cock firmly in hand, and licked up and down the shaft, caressing the iron stalk with her full lips. She tasted the ball of clear fluid that bubbled from the tip, swirled it on her tongue and went for more.

After a minute or two, Johnny put his hand at the back of Patricia's head and guided his cock past her lips. He pushed it gently, but firmly into the maw of her mouth until the head was poking at the entrance of her throat.

Patricia gave a small choking sound as Johnny's cock prodded deeper into her throat, but he didn't go any further, and she quickly pulled his cock back and began to work it back and forth in her mouth.

Wet, hungry noises quickly escaped Patricia's mouth as she sucked ever more greedily on her husband's cock. She could feel the wet heat between her legs from the forceful way Johnny was working her mouth on his throbbing root.

Johnny's hand were laced in her silky hair as he guided her head on his cock. He could feel the urge to blow the back of his wife's head off with an explosive cumshot, and he wasn't nearly ready for that.

So he suddenly wrenched he cock free of her mouth and holding it tightly at the base, rubbed the leaking head over her lips, her chin, her nose, all over her face, smearing Patricia's lipstick and completely wrecking her makeup.

She didn't care; in fact, the lewd act sent spasms of lust roaring through her body as she closed her eyes and reveled in the feeling of her husband taking her.

Their lovemaking had always been just that, loving and tender, but that's not what either of them wanted on this night.

Johnny reached under Patricia's armpits and pulled her to her feet. As he did, his hands glommed onto her tits, and he squeezed them hard, then tweaked both nipples between his thumb and middle fingers.

They just stared into each other's eyes at the naked lust, the ferocious passion that was brewing between them.

Abruptly, Johnny pushed Patricia back onto the bed, with her legs high in the air. He grabbed her silky ankles to spread her legs as widely apart as he could, then he dove in nose-first.

He had made up his mind that he was going to remind this woman just how good a lover he could be, remind her that she was his, and only his, so that she'd never entertain another thought of another man again.

Perhaps they had gotten into a bit of a rut, possibly they had gotten a little complacent, but that time was over. He was committed to giving his wife such an experience that she'd never forget it.

That thought was what flashed through his mind as he worked his mouth on Patricia's drooling pussy. He rolled his tongue in a figure-eight over her sobbing hole and up to her quivering clit, occasionally vacuuming her pussy into his mouth.

Patricia gasped and writhed on the bed as Johnny worked magic with his mouth. She could feel the molten lava of her climax building higher, higher, until she thought she was going to explode.

And when he suddenly slid three fingers into her convulsing box, she felt the sledgehammer of her orgasm hit her in the gut. Her body rippled from the waves of pleasure that coursed through her, and she moaned and panted until she felt the hardest part pass.

Johnny barely gave her time to recover, then flipped her over onto her knees, pulled her up and clamped his mouth back onto her dripping pussy. Patricia gripped the sheets in both hands as another hard climax began to mount from the expert way Johnny was tongue-fucking her.

She was taken completely by surprise when Johnny slashed his way up to her little rosebud. She squealed in surprise -- and in runaway lust -- as he laved her ass with his tongue, while finger-fucking her briskly.

Patricia couldn't believe how quickly she exploded into another orgasm from Johnny's tongue in her ass. She'd never before let him come close to fucking her ass, but she knew if he wanted it tonight, she'd let him.

Johnny had indeed thought about that, but he really just wanted to give her one more thing to think about, and he was gratified to feel and see her body reacting to his tongue on her ass.

Again, he rolled his wife onto her back, and he felt a surge of lust at the vacant look in her eyes, and the way the strands of her disheveled hair fell across her face. It was a look that told him she was lost to lust, and she'd do anything he wanted.

This time, he moved up her body and suckled her achingly-hard nipples and feeding as much of her tit flesh as he could cram into his mouth, all the time churning three fingers in her twitching pussy.

After working on her tits for awhile, Johnny slid his tongue down her stomach, down her abdomen and once again worked his mouth on Patricia's angry red gash. Her back arched as he sucked and licked on her pussy, with the odd swipes at her wet and exposed asshole.

Her mind was a stunning void, filled with a kaleidoscope of pure lust, as Johnny brought her quickly to another climax. She was beyond coherent speech as her body lurched upward in orgasm.

And just about the moment she hit her peak, Johnny pulled his mouth away from her crotch, climbed up on his knees, picked her legs up in the crook of each elbow and rammed his painfully-hard cock into her cunt as far as it could go as fast as it could go. 

Patricia screamed then as Johnny's cock filled her joyfully. All she could do was lie back and enjoy, because Johnny had her bent in two, her ankles on either wide of her ears as he fucked her hard, with powerful, relentless strokes.

He was grunting, gasping as the rutting frenzy consumed him, and swept her along with him. Their minds were focused on nothing but the union of their bodies, where his cock plowed into her pussy like a piston engine working on high.

Patricia could feel yet another climax brewing from the powerful way Johnny was taking her, and she was incapable of doing anything to stop it or even slow it down.

But Johnny was already a step ahead of her. Suddenly, he released her legs, pulled his still throbbing-cock from her gushing pussy, and flipped her once more onto her knees. He pulled her up so her butt was high in the air, with her glistening pussy on full display.

"This is how you fuck a slut," he growled, and Patricia just moaned in consent. She was beyond words by now, barely conscious, and cognizant of just one thing -- getting her aching hole filled, first with her man's cock and then her man's cum.

Johnny aimed his cock at the hole that awaited him, fit it in her slot, then grabbed her hips and rammed it home, all the way to the hilt.

Patricia howled into her pillow as her cunt was filled once again with Johnny's luscious cock, and she could feel the climax begin to spike, even as she could feel Johnny fucking her with long, hard strokes.

Searching for any way to heighten her sensate pleasure, Patricia rubbed her nail-hard nipples on the linen sheet of the bed, and gasped as the rays of sensation flowed through her body.

Johnny was sweating now, and he could see dark spots in his vision as he fucked Patricia with a blinding passion. He was trying to hold back, trying to prolong the sweet agony of that moment right before release, but he couldn't stop. It was like his cock was on autopilot, out of control.

Patricia felt it first. It was almost like an atomic bomb went off in her body. She thrashed and jerked as she knelt on the bed, her face buried in the pillow, her breasts against the sheet and her butt up in the air like some whore.

Feeling her come completely unglued like that was more than Johnny's control could handle. With a roar, he gripped Patricia's buttocks tightly as a volcano of cum blew through his cock. He gasped as the release of semen basted Patricia's convulsing pussy with hot cream.

Over and over, seemingly forever, he spewed lightning bolts of cum into her body, deep into her womb. Finally, he gave a long exhale of breath, and they collapsed together on the bed, on top of each other.

With release came realization, and Patricia found herself weeping as she remembered what had precipitated this whole thing.

"I'm (sob) so (sniffle) sorry," Patricia cried.

Johnny just held her and whispered in her ear that everything was going to be fine now. After awhile, she got calmed down and they just lay together in the sweaty wreckage of lust.

"Do you still love me?" Patricia finally asked.

"Of course, I do," Johnny answered. "I'll always love you."

"Good," Patricia said as she felt sleep overtake her. "I'll always love you too."

Johnny was tired, but not especially sleepy. He felt energized by the encounter they'd just had, and the thought that his marriage was not only intact, but had been strengthened -- tempered -- by the fire of their earlier lust.

As he lay there, he started going over in his mind how he was going to approach the task he faced in the morning. Once he had everything thought out the way he wanted, he rolled over and snuggled up to his wife, drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face. 

^ ^ ^ ^

As usual, William Broadacres was in early, around 7:45 the next morning. He was going over his day planner while thinking about the events of the previous night. 

His quick mind was mulling over a new strategy for getting to Patricia McMullen, since it was becoming clear the one he'd been using wasn't working.

He'd used flattery, and while that had gotten him an in originally, it hadn't yielded results. He'd appealed to her class-consciousness and her obvious discontent with her working-class life, and he'd thought that was succeeding until the previous night's rejection.

There was no way he was giving up. He'd be damned if he was going to lose to some ignorant factory worker. Having Patricia McMullen had almost become an obsession to him, and he was beginning to think he might have to bring out the heavy artillery -- bribery or even blackmail.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he barely heard the door to his office open and shut. But he sensed a presence in front of his desk and looked up to see a fairly short, but solidly-built man of about 40, dressed in blue jeans and a denim work shirt. 

William's mouth suddenly went dry as he stared into the eyes of Johnny McMullen, and Johnny stared back with an even gaze.

"Who are you?" William demanded, as he quickly found his courage. "How did you get in here? What do you want?"

"Mister Broadacres, I'm disappointed in you," Johnny said in a deceptively pleasant tone of voice. "I would have thought a cagey lawyer like you would know that the first rule of engagement is to know your enemy. So let's cut the crap and assume you know who I am and why I'm here."

"I think you'd better leave, before I call security," William said, picking up the phone.

"You're not calling anybody," Johnny said as he casually walked over to William's desk, pulled the phone from his hands and hung it back up. "For a smart lawyer, you're pretty dumb. How do you think I got in here in the first place?"

Johnny stood impassively in front of the desk while he waited for comprehension to sink into the lawyer's brain. When he saw William sit back in his chair with a pale look on his face, understanding now that security had been the ones who'd allowed Johnny access to the office, Johnny knew it was time to continue.

"Now then, Mister Broadacres, we're going to have a little conversation," Johnny said. "Actually, I'm going to talk; you're going to listen. And in a few minutes, when your secretary arrives, I'm going to leave you two alone so you can dictate a letter. Something along the lines of, 'I hereby submit my resignation, effective immediately, to pursue other interests.' You can doctor it up however you want, but I think you get the gist of it."

"Are you out of your mind?" William said indignantly. "I'm not about to quit just because you say so. Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Someone who will kick your ass all over this office if you don't," Johnny said, leaning over the desk in a menacing fashion. "Let me tell you something, Mister Broadacres. I know the scam you're trying to run on my wife. She fell for it enough to put our marriage in jeopardy, but I think we'll get past it, because I believe her when she says nothing had happened. Yet. She may just be another notch on your belt, just another conquest, but she's everything to me, and I'm not going to just sit back and let some clown like you take her away from me."




Working Class Hero



"What's the matter?" William sneered. "Think you're not man enough to keep her from your betters?"

"My betters?" Johnny laughed mirthlessly. "I'm going to forget you said that. The day you're a better man than me will be the day when pigs fly. Ain't happening. But let's forget about that and get down to business. Let me ask you a question. How long have you lived in this city, Mister Broadacres?"

"About a year," William said. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Just answer my questions and I'll enlighten you," Johnny said as he began pacing the floor in front of William's desk. "How long do you think I've lived here? How long do you think my family's been in this city?"

"How am I supposed to know that," William said. "Look, I have things to do and I don't have time for this pointless inquisition."

"For your information, Mister Broadacres, I've lived here all of my life," Johnny said, ignoring William's impatient outburst. "I was born and raised here and I've never lived anywhere else. My great-grandfather came here in 1887 with the railroad, which means that the McMullens have been in this city for five generations, counting my kids. We helped build this place. Now, do you know what that means for you?"

"I haven't the foggiest," William said.

"It means that I'm the insider, the hometown boy, the working class hero, and you, sir, are an outsider," Johnny said. "This place is pretty clannish. We're generally welcoming of newcomers, but you have to prove yourself, and there is a -- how should I put it? -- a probationary period. We're awfully protective of our own, and we don't take kindly to outsiders coming in and trying to steal our women."

"That's not my problem, bud," William said. "And I still don't see how that gives you any call to make me resign. I'm just getting started here. And as to 'stealing your woman,' as you put it, I'd say may the best man win."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, Mister Broadacres," Johnny hissed after he'd casually strolled behind the desk and leaned over real close to William's ear. "The game ends now. And here's why. It all has to do with baseball, Little League baseball to be exact. When I was 9-years-old, I started playing ball, and I was put at shortstop by my coach, who put his son at second base. We quickly became a team, and when we were 10, we were on the same team again, and we won the city championship, made all-stars and got as far as the state finals. Later, I was paired with that same kid in high school. We played together for both our junior and senior seasons, and we won state our senior year. Now, I don't know how much you know about baseball, but they call the shortstop and second baseman the keystone combination, because it's the heart of a team's defense. The second baseman and shortstop have to work together like a well-oiled machine, and you have to have each other's back on every play. That second baseman became my best friend in high school, and we're still close to this day."

"What in the hell does that have to do with me?" William said. "What does that shaggy dog story have to do with anything pertinent."

"Oh, but it is entirely pertinent, Mister Broadacres," Johnny said. "Who do you think that coach was, back when we were 9 and 10-years-old, the one who teamed me with his son?"

"I can't imagine who," William said, perplexed. Johnny just smiled evilly, because he knew he had Broadacres right where he wanted him.

"The coach was Richard Bradberry and the second baseman was Randall Bradberry," Johnny said.

William sat back in his chair, stunned at the revelation that his boss was a lifelong friend of Johnny McMullen and that the founder of the firm had been their coach.

"You see, Mister Broadacres, we take care of each other here," Johnny said. "Now, you are going to submit your resignation and you're going to leave town. Immediately. If you do, you may actually practice law again somewhere else. If you don't, I'll make it my business to ruin you, and I can do it with two phone calls. You may think I'm just a dumb factory worker, but I'm president of Machinists Local 474, which is the largest union in this part of the state. I'm surprised you didn't know that. That means that politicians at every level try to curry favor with me. I'm a political ally of the mayor -- it also helps that we went to school together -- and I'm on a first-name basis with every other political figure that matters in this area. You've already messed with me more than most folks around here would tolerate, but I'm going to let it slide -- for now. Your resignation, Mister Broadacres, and this all goes away. You pick up and move on, and life returns to normal. Balk, and I promise you won't like your life from here on out. Do we understand each other?"

William Broadacres knew when he was beaten. Delectable as she was, Patricia McMullen wasn't worth sacrificing his career or his life over. He had clearly underestimated Johnny McMullen, and there was no getting around him. 

William had no doubt that a union man in McMullen's position could bring resources to bear that he was unable to cope with. Not only could political influence be used against him, but there was also the implied threat of more unsavory characters that he believed McMullen could call on.

Moreover, William didn't like his chances in a physical confrontation with the man. Sure, he had a significant size advantage and he worked out to stay in good shape. 

But he had been sizing up McMullen as he stood confidently in front of the desk, or when he was pacing the floor like a panther on the prowl, and he didn't like what he saw. He could see that McMullen had broad shoulders and powerful hands, and there didn't appear to be an ounce of fat on him.

No, as badly as he wanted Patricia McMullen for himself, he was smart enough to realize that the game was over. Galling as it was to admit defeat, it was time to cut his losses and move on to the next encounter, wherever that might be.

He just nodded his head, Johnny nodded his head, then Johnny turned on his heel and strode out of William's office. He didn't look back.

Johnny saw Randall Bradberry chatting with Patricia, and they were both surprised to see him emerge from William's office. Patricia had a look of concern on her face, but she trusted her husband to do what was right.

She'd been a little concerned when she'd awakened to find Johnny already showered, dressed and gone. Usually when he worked swing shift, he slept in, and after last night she expected to find him zonked.

"Hey man," Randall said as he gave Johnny a hug and a hearty handshake. "Everything OK?"

"Well, yes and no," Johnny said. "As far as that matter we discussed last week, it's all good, but I'm afraid you're about to be short an attorney again."

"I take it he's quitting?" Randall said.

Johnny gave his wife an even look as he nodded his head.

"I guess we'll manage," Randall said with a shrug. "It'll save me the trouble of firing him. I was never taken with him in the first place, but Dad liked him. But then Dad never met anyone he didn't like."

"True; your dad was great that way," Johnny said. "Look, can I have a word with Patricia for a moment? I won't keep her long."

"Sure," Randall said. "I think I can spare her for a minute or two. Glad everything worked out. You two are awfully important to me and I'd hate to see anything happen to you. Call me if you need anything."

Johnny guided Patricia to the break room and closed the door. Then he gathered his wife in a tight embrace and just held her as the emotions washed over him.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered tearfully.

"That's the last time I want to hear an apology over this," Johnny said, lifting his wife's chin off her chest so he could look her in the eyes. "I love you and it's behind us. Like I said last night, I'm disappointed that it got as far as it did, but I'm glad you came to your senses in time. And maybe we can start looking into buying a bigger house. You know we've got the money in savings for a nice down payment, and I think we can afford to take on another reasonable note."

"Sweetheart, you don't have to ..." Patricia began, but Johnny silenced her.

"Shhhhh," Johnny said. "Patricia, my main goal in life has always been to make you happy. If you aren't happy in a small house then let's change that. It's about time we got someplace better anyway. We can afford it, and if it makes you happy, we'll do it. We can even keep our current house as a rental property."

"Oh, Johnny, maybe I don't deserve you, but I love you so much," Patricia said. "You are the best."

After returning Patricia to her desk, he happened to catch sight of one of the other secretaries, a good friend of his wife's who gave him a nod and a wink. Johnny winked back at her and walked out of the office smiling.

It sure was nice to have friends in strategic places, he thought with a chuckle.

^ ^ ^ ^

Patricia McMullen sat at the table that dominated the small den in their house, much as she had a few weeks earlier. Only this time, she was feeling buoyant, rather than morose, as she had been that particular day.

She was waiting for Johnny to come home in a few minutes so she could give him the news that she was pregnant.

She hadn't been feeling well for several weeks, and when she missed her period for the second straight month, she knew. She'd bought a home pregnancy kit the day before, just to be certain, and taken a half-day off that day so she could do the test while she was alone.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of Johnny's pickup truck pulling into the drive, and her stomach did somersaults. She wasn't entirely certain how he'd react to the news that they were going to be new parents again, so late in life, but she knew they'd deal with it the same way they had dealt with everything else that came along -- head-on, decisively.

Johnny came in the kitchen door, as he always did, and stopped short when he saw Patricia sitting at the table with a worried look on her face. He looked at her face, then down at the little strip of paper that indicated the positive pregnancy test and his face split in a slow grin.

"Does that mean what I think it means?" he asked in a slightly incredulous tone of voice.

Patricia just nodded as she stood up to hug her husband.

"Wow," he said slowly. "It's a good thing we're closing on that house this week. We're going to need a bigger place."

"Are you OK with this?" Patricia said. "I mean, we're both over 40. What are the kids going to think?"

"I'm fine with it," Johnny said. "A little shocked. When do you think it... You don't think it was that night, do you?"

"I think so," Patricia said. "Maybe it was God's way of helping us work through the problem. I hope you're happy. I know we didn't plan this but..."

"Of course I'm happy," Johnny said. "After all, a good Irishman always wants lots of babies, right? And as for the kids, I'm sure they'll be fine. It's not like they have any choice. They'll learn to love this baby just like we will."

"Oh, you are my hero," Patricia said emotionally. "My working class hero. I'm all yours, Johnny McMullen, and I will be until the day I die."

Johnny just held his wife tight as he thought about the past few months and how close they'd come to not having this moment. They had weathered a crisis that could have broken them apart and come out stronger than ever.

Yes, he thought, maybe he was a working class hero.



Working Class



I explained my dilemma and we had a giggle at the fact that we were both still virgins. I said, "You can probably understand why I am still like that, but with a face like mine and a gammy leg, I'm not exactly the catch of the season. You must be very strong willed not to have surrendered your virginity by now?" I realised that I had put my big foot in it again and hastily tried to cover up by saying, "What I mean is, you must have plenty of opportunities by now!" and immediately realised that I had just made an even bigger balls of it. 

Holly laughed at me and said, "I would stop digging, if I were you. I know what you're trying to say, and yes I have had a few opportunities to have sex with my boyfriends, but once or twice their timing was off and either my period had started or there was no privacy at the Halls of Residence. There always seemed to be some obstacle in the way. I'm glad that there was now, I want to my first time with someone I have always liked and who I know will be caring and gentle." 

With that she said, "It should be OK if you make sure to pull out before you come. I want this and I want it to be you who makes me a woman."

We kissed again and she allowed me to undress her. That she had to help me with her bra, showed how ignorant and clumsy I was. I undressed and we kissed some more and our passion grew. With some guidance from her, I was soon caressing her sex and teasing the hard nub of her clit, making her shudder and moan. As I did this she was gripping my hard erection as if she wanted to choke the life out of it. Without being told, I started to kiss her full firm breasts and spent time teasing her elongated nipples to full erection, then I moved down between her legs and replaced my fingers with my searching tongue. I felt her shudder to a climax and she pulled me on top of her and told me to take her. She said, "Just put it inside me, but gently and for Christ's sake don't come inside me!"

I did as she asked and inserted my throbbing erection slowly into her vagina. I was scared of hurting her and when I came up against the resistance of what I knew was her hymen, I stopped. She asked what was wrong and giggled when I told her I couldn't go any further. She told me to push harder and then let out a little scream as I broke through. I stopped instantly, but she started to move her body and I guess nature took over. Within a few seconds, I felt myself start to ejaculate and pulled out quickly and blasted her pubes with what seemed like gallons of semen. I had covered her pubic hair with my sticky cum and I noticed that some was leaking into her swollen sex so I told her what had happened and she ran to the bathroom to clean her self up.

When she returned, we resumed kissing and with her encouragement, we tried again. This time, I had much more control and slowly pumped in and out, gradually increasing my pace and she responded by pulling me into her and whispering in my ear for more. I felt my orgasm approaching and tried to pull out but she trapped me with her ankles locked around behind my back and I screamed out a warning to her, and she released her grip just in time as pulled off her just as my cock erupted. For a second time that night, her pubes were coated with my semen and she hurried away to clean herself.

We lay back down on my bed and kissed and cuddled. It was nearly midnight when she jumped up and said, let's go down to the Square and see the Year in there.

Later on as I walked her home through the park, we talked about whether we had a future together or not. She said, "I still need to finish University and don't want to be tied down just yet. Please, I like you a lot, but I want to live a little before I settle down."

I was hurt and decided on an all or nothing strategy, so I stopped and took her into my arms and taking a deep breath said, "I think I fell in love with you way back when you first sat beside me in that school room. You were the only girl who would simply ignore my disfigurement and talk to me without condescension or pity. I fell for you then and when I saw you in come into the Queen's Head a few weeks ago, I realised that my feelings had not changed, I love you and want to be with you always." 

She broke away from me and sat down on the park bench, She was silent for several minutes then said, "Charlie, you the sweetest, honest and most dependable man I have ever met, but I'm just not ready for that sort of commitment! There's a lot more to life that I want to experience before I settle down. I want to go dates with other men and yes, if the right opportunity and person comes along, go to bed with them. I like you more than anyone I have ever met before, that's why I gave myself to you tonight. Perhaps, sometime in the future we can get together again, but not right now. I'm sorry but I'm just not ready yet." 

There seemed to be little point in pressing her into a commitment to each other, she clearly was not ready for that type of relationship so, I just settled for what I could get. We dated another couple of times before she had to return to University and out of my life, or so I thought. 

After work, one cold February Friday night, I found Holly waiting for me outside my mother's house. She was shivering with cold and I asked her why she hadn't just knocked and asked my mother if she could wait inside. "I was too scared, she would know straight away why I'm here!" 

I quickly took her inside with me and my mother gave us one look and ushered us into the front room. Holly waited until she had left us alone and said quite simply, "I'm six weeks late and I've never been this late before! I think I'm pregnant and you're it's daddy!" and then she burst into tears. 

I tried to comfort her and eventually she calmed down enough to listen to me. My first instinct was to ask if it was mine, but in my heart I knew it was and I quickly snuffed out any thought that maybe it was someone else's. I tried to sound confident. "Well, first thing is to get it confirmed and then decide what we want to do about it. I will marry you, you know how I feel about you? I love you and I will love our baby. I don't want my kid born a bastard! Have you thought about what you want?"

"Not to be pregnant, that's what! Why didn't you pull out quicker? Look at the trouble I'm in now!" The she burst into more tears just at the point when my mum came back with a pot of tea for us.

She took the situation in at a single glance and asked Holly, "How far gone are you?"

That brought another flood of tears from Holly and my mother went to her and took her into the kitchen to talk. I made to follow them, when she rounded on me and said, "Son, you've done enough damage for now, I warned you to be careful, now leave us alone and we'll see what can be done about this mess the pair of you have got yourselves in."

They were in their for over two hours before emerging. Holly looked much better and Mum looked at me and said, "I take it that you will stand by her?" It was not really a question, more a command so I confirmed that I would. 

Mum was a wise old bird and then said, "Holly has come back scared and without the knowledge of her parents, we'll keep that way for now. She will spend the night here and tomorrow we will go to the city to see a doctor." I started to say something, but she cut me off, "Before you ask, she will share with Mary tonight, so no hanky panky tonight! You understand what I'm telling you Charles?"

I just nodded confirmation. When Mum calls me Charles I know I have made her very angry with me. The next day, they went off together and came back with confirmation that Holly was pregnant.

Events happened quickly after that, we faced up to her parents and told them we wanted to get married and why. You can probably guess they were less than happy and called me for everything. We had no money for renting a house, so they offered to provide us a room in their home. This was not ideal, but my mum's house was not large enough, so we were grateful to accept their kind offer. The wedding was quickly arranged and the local priest conducted the service, Andy was our best man and Mary was our bridesmaid. After the short ceremony, we left for a weekend long honeymoon in the Yorkshire Dales. 

We were both very inexperienced sexually, hell we did not even know each other that well, a couple of dates and bingo we were thrust together as man and wife. My mother had given Holly a book on sex called The Good Sex Guide as a present. I said she was psychic! We put it to good use that weekend and many nights since. Holly was more adventurous than me and loved to hold my cock in her hand and feel it grow and harden. Since the damage was done and she was already pregnant, we went at it like bunny rabbits. Holly loved it when I went down on her to lick and suck her nectar. All too soon we had to return to normality and life with her parents. 

Our honeymoon allowed us two days to get to know each other. I tried very hard to prove my love for her during the next weeks and months. I realised that she missed the freedom that University life had given her. Socially, she was an outcast, her friends refused to speak to her and openly snubbed her in the street. Her only real friends turned out to be my sister Mary and Andy. When she was going through the morning sickness phase, I felt at times, that she despised me for getting her pregnant and causing her this distress. At first, the relationship between her parents and me was one of toleration of each other, but over the next few months as Holly began to show, her mother in particular started to make snide remarks about my being responsible for ruining her daughter's education, then it was my lack of manners and moans about my coming home in muddy overalls and boots. I made an effort to change clothes before leaving work, but I still had to bring the dirty clothing home to be washed. That caused another bout of moaning until I lost it one night and told her I would wash my own clothes in future. That just gave her more reason to find something else to berate me about. 

I was working twelve hour days, six days a week. Now that may not sound like much, but this was hard physical labour and I would get home at night utterly exhausted. Life with her parents had descended into open hostility, I hated living under their roof and our sex life was suffering as Holly was quite vocal when aroused and would not let me make love to her while her parents were in the house. They rarely went out!

Somehow, we got through that pregnancy, and Holly presented me with a son. We named him Roy after her father. Having a grandson to drool over seemed to ease the tensions with her parents. They were no longer openly hostile or trying to demean me in Holly's eyes, well not in front of me anyway. 

Chapter 2 -- New Life Begins

During the wait at the hospital, the father's had to stay in the waiting area outside the delivery room. Husbands were not encouraged to be at the delivery of their child back then. To pass the time, I had used my sketch pad to doodle some of the nurses and visitors to the ward. I was not really concentrating on the subject, more of doodle really, when one of the doctor's stopped and looked at what I had drawn and said that the likeness was remarkable. I looked closely at what I had drawn and it was one of the nurses working on paperwork behind her screen and it was a fairly good likeness. She came over when the doctor summoned her and was surprised at the sketch. She asked if she could have it and the doctor said jokingly, just as I was about to hand it over, "Best get him to sign it first, you never know, it may be worth a fortune in a couple of years!" I looked at her for some guidance and she nodded at me so I signed simply 'Gimpy' followed by the date 1967.

She looked at it and realised straight away why I had signed it that way. She asked me when I had sustained the injury to my leg and burn scar on my face. I told her and she advised me that I should see my doctor as there were new procedures available now that could address my foreshortened leg. She also suggested that I ask him to refer me to a plastic surgeon as she believed that something could now be done about my facial scar. I promised her that I would look into it and she left to return to her duties. I thought about what she had advised quite a lot over the next couple of hours and decided it was worth a try.

I did see my doctor and he referred my case to an Orthopaedic Consultant, but he also advised me that it would be several months before I would be contacted. The waiting lists for National Health Patients back then was no better than today.

I had managed to scrape together enough cash to enable Holly and I to rent our own place. It was two bed roomed flat in a rundown part of town, but close to my present job site. We moved in, straight from the hospital. Andy helped us move as he had a little van he called his passion wagon. Holly used to tease him about the use he put the mattress he had in the back to. He told her she would need to come out with him one night if she wanted to find out. The flirting was good natured and I knew he would never do anything to hurt me or damage my marriage. He was godfather to little Roy and Mary was godmother.

Life settled into a routine, it wasn't easy for either of us. Holly was permanently tired from caring for a demanding baby, I was knackered working as many hours as I could get to try and keep up with our bills. Within two months, Holly had recovered her former figure, albeit with enhanced breasts from feeding our son. That had to stop when the little bugger grew his top and bottom teeth as he was biting her and even drew blood on a couple of occasions.

Our sex life resumed, this time with condoms. Holly had a long discussion with our parish priest and he made it quite clear what the Church's view was on contraception. Basically he advised that good Catholic's would only use the rhythm method, but Holly told him that she wanted to return to University and another child was not on the agenda. That discussion put a damper on her faith in a Church run by priest who had no experience of marriage and she stopped attending regularly. Christmas and Easter, we both made an attempt to attend, but was as far as she went. No confession or communion, we got along fine without it.

So condoms were the order of the day and I used them religiously, but I didn't particularly like them. I asked her about perhaps taking the contraceptive pill as this had been available in the UK since the early sixties. Holly was concerned about possible side effects and didn't want to take them. I think her main worry was that they could lead to weight gain. She had worked hard to get her figure back and was in no mood to compromise on that topic.

In due course, I saw the Orthopaedic Consultant and he scheduled me for surgery within the next twelve months. After fifteen years, I was finally going to walk without a limp. The downside was, I would be in plaster for two months, two months with no earnings, only Sick Pay. I was worried and wanted to cancel the operation, but Holly insisted I get it done.

Holly had made friends with a couple of other mothers to be at the Pre Natal Clinic and they started to go out every Wednesday night to the local Bingo Hall. I had no problem with her going out, she needed to get out the house and the Bingo allowed her get away from me and Roy even if it was only for a few hours. Between them, the girls were quite lucky and if any of them had a 'shout' they would pop in to the pub for a drink before coming home. I didn't begrudge her that either, but she did start smoking again. I had never smoked, it cost too much even then and she had stopped during her pregnancy and I thought she was off them for good, but she came in one night reeking of cigarette smoke. Usually, it was only on her clothes as smoking was permitted in all places of entertainment in those days, but when she kissed me, I tasted the nicotine and complained about the taste, After that, she always had some spearmint gum and her breath was much better.

Shortly before I was due to have my operation, Holly came in from Bingo full of it. She had won the jackpot, over three hundred pounds. That was a fortune, it was roughly four month's wages for me and would tide us over during my incapacity. I had the operation and it was a success. It took me the full three month's before I was able to get back in harness. Fortunately, my boss held my job for me, so I was able to slot back in. 

During my recuperation in hospital, I kept sketching and even did some oil paintings to pass the time. One of the Doctor's told me about a new Cancer Wing they were opening soon and said there was a competition to select some original artwork for the Reception Area and that I should submit an entry. The problem was I didn't have a clue what to paint. Holly came up with the idea of painting a portrait of the original house that once stood on the grounds that the Hospital was built on. The house had been so badly damaged in a fire during the Second World War that it had to be demolished. The Hospital itself was named after the original owner of the house and his family were one of the major benefactors of the present facility. She went to the local library and found an old pre First World War photograph of the house and from that picture I painted my submission. Some weeks later I was told that my entry had won the competition and with the victory came a cheque for £500!

Holly and I attended the opening ceremony and watched as the descendant of the original benefactor, Lord Stevens officially opened the new wing. He made a point of talking to me later and asked me to come and see him tomorrow at his home, he had a proposal for me to consider.

I duly went and saw him and he asked me to paint a portrait of himself and Lady Stevens. He told me he would pay me £50 if he liked it. That was a good sum but not overly generous, but never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I accepted and four weeks later presented him with the result. He was delighted and intrigued by the signature at the bottom. I told him the 'Gimpy' tale and he was quite amused.

Following that I had several more commissions for portraits and I tried my best to meet the demand. I did some quick calculations and realised that I could never make a living at being an artist, the £500 was a rare bonus, so as soon as I was fit again, it was back to the grindstone. 

While I was off work, Holly and I had ample opportunity to make love and we took full advantage, always using a condom of course, but something went wrong one time as I realised when I removed a used condom from my penis. Instead of a pool of semen inside the thing, there was just the residue. I told Holly straight away and she rushed to the toilet to try and douche, but a month later, she informed me she was pregnant again. She was not happy about it, Roy was just coming up for two and she was hoping to continue her studies at night school with the intention of getting back into University, but that was now just a pipedream. I was secretly pleased, but worried about how we would manage financially.

Our daughter Sarah was born eight months later and life resumed. We struggled on and managed to keep our heads above water as I was now earning more money as a gaffer on the building site. I also bought a small van and picked up other workers on the way to work. This helped cover the running costs.We worked anywhere within a fifty mile radius of home and I was getting paid for running the taxi service. My sex life continued sporadically, Holly was always tired out and lacked the enthusiasm she once had for sex. She also distrusted condoms and went on the pill. During this period I often wondered why she bothered, intercourse once or twice a month, usually immediately after her period, meant that there was little chance of her getting caught again.




Working Class



By the time little Roy was ready to start school and Sarah was enrolled in a day nursery, Holly started job hunting, but the prospects finding anything matching her aspirations was negligible. Part time office work to suit school hours were almost impossible to find. Eventually, one evening when I came home, she told me she had been offered a part time job. I thought I better show some enthusiasm for her initiative and I asked her to tell me about it. 

She looked decidedly nervous when she said, "It's only Friday and Saturday nights at the 'Badger's Arms' from five till eleven thirty. They advertised for barmaids and I applied. I went and had my interview today and Mr. Evans asked if I could start this Friday?"

The expectant look on her face made it impossible for me to deny her anything. She obviously wanted the independence that earning her own money would bring and god knew, we needed it badly. The bad weather of late had stopped work at our site, so the money was going out a lot faster than it was coming in. I was still picking up odd commissions for portraits and that helped, but things were looking bleak. I smiled and asked, "What is he paying you?" 

"As I have no experience as a barmaid, he offered £0.50 an hour, is that about right?"

It took me a little while to recalculate the newly introduced decimal currency back into shillings and pence, but it seemed more than fair. I told her that was pretty good money and asked how she was going to manage the kids. "I've got that covered, your Mum is going to come over and baby sit till you get in from work Fridays and of course, you'll be here on Saturday, so the problem is sorted." She said triumphantly. She had it all worked out, until I said, "There's one thing I'm worried about, how are you going to get home after work? I don't want you walking home at that time of night."

She had an answer for that as well, "Mr Evans has offered to run me home, so I've got that covered to!"

I knew John Evans, the landlord at the 'Badger'. He was nearly sixty and he and his wife had run the pub for years. I knew they wanted to employ a barmaid as his wife was getting too old for the job. He had told me over a pint one night that he needed to get some younger staff to handle the young bucks that had 'adopted' the 'Badger' as their local of late. He also said that he wanted a woman who would dress a bit sexy to keep the punters coming back in, nothing too outrageous, just a bit of cleavage or glimpse of thigh would do the trick. Seeing how badly Holly wanted this job, I kept that information to myself. I was mildly amused and wondered how she would handle that situation when it arose. So Holly started her new job as a barmaid that Friday and the extra money certainly helped.

That first Friday, I was still working when she went left the house to go to her new job at the Badger so, I had to wait until she came home to find out how she had dressed for her first big night. I was up waiting as I heard the car door slam and she came in looking rather tired. I helped her off with her coat and was surprised that she has a conservative skirt and a tight knit jumper on. It was V necked and displayed just a hint of cleavage, but her bra was clearly noticeable and I could see the outline of her nipples trying to poke through their restraining folds. I asked how her first day as a barmaid had gone and she said she had made lots of mistakes and broken a few glasses, but that she had enjoyed the being in the company of adults and that John had been very patient with her, teaching her how to pull pints and how the till worked. She had found it easy to count the costs of two or three drinks and ring them up, but when a large round was ordered it was difficult at first to memorise the total cost. The tills did not do it all for you as they do now, so a skilled server had to keep the running total in their head and chat with other customers at the same time.

Saturday came and we spent the day as most couples do, shopping and tidying up the loosed ends that we had neglected during the week. I watched as she dressed for work that evening and this time her skirt was a bit shorter and displayed her long perfectly formed legs to their best advantage. She was about to pull on a pair of tights but, I stopped her when I asked, "Won't you be too hot wearing them indoors in September?" She agreed and stepped into her tiny lace embroidered panties. Her bra was a black half cup affair and thrust her full breasts out and up, not that she needed any assistance in that department. She then pulled on a black knitted top with a deep scoop that complemented the bra beneath, then turned to me and asked, "Will I do, do you think?" I said, "as long as you don't bend over too much it'll be fine. Give them a flash now and then and your tips will soon be as much as your wages." 

She smiled and stooped in front of the mirror to see just how much cleavage was on display and abruptly stood up and started to remove her top. I took hold of her and stopped her and she protested, "It's far too revealing, the punters will be able to see my bra and most of my tits, every time I reach for a pint glass!" 

"So just rearrange the glasses so you don't have to stoop when facing them. Then you can decide when to give them the quick flash, I'm telling you you'll have them panting for a glimpse of you charms."

"You don't mind then, if your wife is ogled and lusted after by every man in town?" she said teasingly.

Kissing her hard, I said. "You know fine well that every Tom, Dick and Harry stare at you every time you walk down the street. You are so beautiful that they all wish that they were married to you, or that they stood a chance of getting into your knickers, but you're my wife and I love you and I know that I'm the only one to ever achieve that! So what if you show them a little of what they can never have, I want them to look at you and know that you are forever just that little bit out of their reach."

She giggled at that and said, "You're so cocksure of that aren't you? You never know, I might just surprise you one day and let one of them may sweep me off my feet and ravish me!"

To this day, I don't know if it was the sexy teasing or the fact that I had her pinned against the bedroom wall, but I felt my cock spring to attention and what's more she did to!

"I think the idea of me flashing my tits at the punters turns you on, doesn't it?" she teased.

"As long as it's only flashing and you come home to me, then you have my blessing, but only flashing!" I reiterated.

She smiled and kissed me and grabbing my erection she said, "Just you keep that thought and have this ready for me later and I'll tell you all about it! Now let me go or I'll miss the bus."

She left for work and I sorted out the kids tea's and then put them to bed after telling them a story. The rest of the evening, I tried to do some sketching, but each time I stopped and looked at what I had produced, it was impressions of Holly, semi clothed and draped along the 'Badger's' bar being ogled by dozens of leering men. Foolishly, I didn't destroy these titillating sketches, but shoved them into my drawing case.

Chapter 3 -- A warning bell sounds

Holly came home a little later that night, at around midnight. She explained that the bar had been very busy and it had taken longer than usual to get the punters out and clear up. I helped her off with her coat and kissed her deeply, searching for tongue with mine. I could taste the whisky on her breath as we stood there trying to undress each other and made a mental note to keep an eye on that. She didn't drink much at home and after a few glasses was pretty tipsy. We just about made it to our bed by the time we were both naked. She was as randy as I have ever seen her, hard nipples, dripping pussy and her hands were pulling on my cock as she begged me to fuck her. That, in itself was unusual, she had never used language like that before, but it did have the effect of spurring me on. She started her first orgasm before I even managed to get my erection fully inserted and had a few more before I, with a final thrust, shot my load as deep into her pussy as I could get. She turned over and was asleep before I could say goodnight.

I left for work at seven AM as usual and took her a cup of tea up before I left. She smiled and said, "Last night was the best sex we have ever had, thank you." I smiled, kissed her and left for work.

Life for the next few months settled into a pattern and Holly settled into her job very well. John had given her a 10p an hour raise and her tips grew as she got to know the regulars. We had managed to save a few quid towards Christmas presents for the kids even allowing for the fact that Holly had bought some new tops to wear for work. The tops were all designed to allow the punters a glimpse of heaven without being too risqué. She also bought some new bra's. She always modelled her new work clothes for me before wearing them publicly. We had some great sex after these modelling sessions. One bra in particular caught my attention, it was a black lacy one with a hole at each tip that allowed her nipples to stick out and press against her blouse. When she showed me, I had an instant erection and told her that she was not to wear that to work under any circumstances. She giggled and said, "Mmmm, I see what you mean! It is a bit raunchy isn't it?" But she never wore it to work that I am aware of.

I asked her permission to draw her wearing it which she readily agreed to. I posed her at the window, with the curtains drawn and reached for my case to get some paper and the drawings that I had completed some months ago tumbled out before I could stop them. Holly grabbed them and suddenly realised that they were of her. I waited to see what her reaction would be. She looked at them again this time more slowly before lifting her eyes to look at me she said, "Is this how you would like see me? Looking like a wanton slut, half naked in front of all those men? You've even drawn the bar fittings identical to those in the 'Badger'"

When I didn't answer straight away, she took that as an affirmative answer, but gave me another chance, "Do you really want to see me like this? Answer me!" she demanded getting angry at my failure to respond. Finally, I managed to find my voice and said, "No! Of course I don't want anyone other than me to see you like that. I sketched them on the evening that you first started at the pub, I was just doodling and was surprised as you are at the result. They're a pure fantasy, a figment of my imagination and I never meant for you to see them. I intended to destroy them and forgot. Please, give them to me and I will burn them now?"

"Uh, Uh." She replied shaking her head. Then she surprised me by handing them back and ordered to sign them. "I think this is some of the best work you have done, don't you dare get rid of them. You never know, there may be a market some day for erotic art like this."

I did as she ordered and then said, "By the way, there already is a market for illustrations like these. There are erotic novels and Men's magazines circulating that are crying out for art like this to enhance them." 

She asked to know more and where I had learned about dirty books and things like that and a long discussion followed. I explained that working on building sites, top shelf Men's Magazines circulate and many of them contain not only photographs of naked women, but of erotic illustrations and reader's stories as well. To cut a long story short, she asked me to bring some home for her to read. I said, "OK, I will but only if you let me do this sketch of you dressed just as you are now!" 

She smiled and adopted the pose I had previously put her in. I quickly completed the sketch and while she was in the mood arranged another pose, this time with the bra straps dropped off her shoulders. We were on a roll and I continued to slowly peel away her clothes until she was posing totally naked. Eventually she said, "I'm getting tired and my pussy's in need of some attention, so pack up and take me to bed and sort it out!"

I brought her some of the mags the next day and for many weeks after our sex life perked up in no end of ways.

Holly continued to work in the 'Badger' and Christmas came and went, our sex life was the best it had been for years. I put this down to the fact that she was slowly losing her inhibitions about flashing her tits at the punters and that with her wages, we were no longer having to count the pennies. The only concern I had was that she was coming back from work on occasions more than a little tipsy and I was concerned that she may be vulnerable to the attentions of some of her customers. I mentioned this to her and she reassured me that she was in no danger as John always made sure she was brought home safely. In any case, I was reaping the benefit as she was always more randy when she had been imbibing.

With Holly's encouragement, I contacted the publisher of one of the magazines and submitted some of my sketches of her in various stages of undress. I was delighted when I received a cheque for £30 for the four they published. They also requested that I identify the model, but I told them she was out of my imagination and didn't exist in the flesh. However, I subtly changed some of the features on my remaining sketches of Holly, just in case someone recognised her, we didn't need that to come back and haunt us. The same letter requested me to submit more sketches based on the some of their forthcoming stories. They gave me a précis of the story for guidance and some suggestions as to the pose required. Some of these requests were very raunchy and included the model using a variety of vegetables on herself as though masturbating and others replacing the vegetable with a vibrator. I rather nervously approached Holly and showed her this request and asked if she would pose for me. Instead of the indignant refusal I expected she was all for it and asked, "I can provide plenty of vegetables but, where will you get the vibrator?"

I told her I didn't know, but I'm sure I know a man who would. It only took a few subtle hints to my workmates and I had my contact for sex toys. I met him and bought several different models for Holly to select from. Some were massive, far bigger than my seven inches and I wondered what Holly would make of them. I had no need to be concerned she loved them all and we had some great times while I sketched her in the requested poses. 

I submitted the sketches and this time the cheque was for £50 and accompanied with requests for more even stronger poses. This new line of artwork continued through the winter and into spring. We steadily accumulated a tidy nest egg that we used to take the kids away for a summer holiday. This was during a time when the package holiday to the Spanish Costa's were starting to get popular and we like thousands of others elected to go to Majorca. We had a great family holiday for the first time and returned from holiday much refreshed.

My work was steady and I was now site foreman for the company so our money troubles were a thing of the past, at least for the foreseeable future. With Holly's wages and mine. We were able to buy our first home, mortgaged for more than I liked, but Holly was so keen on the house that I couldn't refuse her. Our sex life had started cooling off a little. Our love making had deteriorated when the commissions for sketches dried up just after Easter. I was lucky if we got together twice a week now. I put it down to the demands of looking after two active kids and working long hours behind a bar. 

One Friday evening she came home almost an hour later than normal and said, "We need to talk!" She had clearly been drinking as she slurred her words and staggered a little as she removed her coat and shoes. I dreaded hearing statements like that. Andy and his fiancé had just broken up and he had told me that's how their conversation started. 

We sat down and she said, "The 'Badger' is entering two teams in the town's darts league. That means they will be playing a home match every other Thursday night and I have been asked if I will work Thursday's as well. They will pay me more for the extra shift, a bit like overtime I suppose. What do you think, should I do it?"

This was not to my liking, but I wanted to see where she stood on the subject, so I replied, "It's not up to me, it's you that's got to do the work. We don't really need the extra money, we are doing OK as it stands, but do you want to do it?"

She said straight away, "Yes I do, the extra money will help us buy a car instead of that dirty old van. The kids are getting too big to clamber about in the van, a car will be much more practical and I can take some lessons and be able to stop using the buses to get around the shops

Clearly her mind was made up before she came in the door, she just wanted me to rubber stamp it so there would be no recriminations from me when she came home too tired for sex. Up until now, we were only making love an average of twice a week, but Friday's and Saturday's were off the agenda and now it looked like Thursday's would be as well. Not wanting to disappoint her, I said, "Give it a trial up until Christmas. If it gets to be too much, you can simply tell them to find someone else." 

Something about this new initiative didn't quite ring true. The John Evans that I knew never allowed a darts team in his shop. He said that they caused too much trouble and disturbed the neighbours at the end of their evening's entertainment. He wanted no truck with darts leagues. I asked Holly, "When did John Evans have the change of heart about Darts Leagues then, he would never have them in his shop before?" 

"Oh." She replied, "John's no longer the licensee, it's Mr & Mrs Lees, Manny and Sylvia Lees. They took over the pub last month, John decided to retire as his wife is poorly and he needs to care for her. Anyway, some of the regulars approached Manny and asked if they could form a team and he said why not, it's a good way to increase sales on a usually dead night like Thursday's. So that's how it all came about."

This was the first time I had heard of the change and my first thought, who was bringing her home now that John was no longer in the picture. The second one was, why had she failed to tell me of something so obviously important to me in that context, she knew that it was one of my prime concerns when she took the job in the first place! I was angry and blurted out, "So just who is bringing you home now?"

"Manny or Sylvia, but it's usually Manny. He's talking about providing a taxi for Friday and Saturday nights as he has a lot of work to do after closing. The brewery wants the sales figures on orders processed every Monday morning and he likes his Sunday's relatively easy, so he does the books after closing each night."

Now, I had never met this Manny or his wife, John I knew and trusted and I wanted to find out a bit more about Manny Lees before I passed judgement on his character. I was concerned that he would try and take advantage of Holly, especially if she had been drinking as she had been tonight. I looked at Holly a little more closely but apart from the fact that her usually impeccable lipstick was absent from her mouth, she appeared to be the same as when she left earlier. I did note however that her skirt she was wearing was one of the shorter ones in her wardrobe and the blouse was semi transparent allowing her bra to be clearly seen. She had worn that outfit a few times before, but told me she felt uncomfortable with the transparency of the blouse and stopped wearing it. So why did wear it tonight? 

I had nothing concrete to go on, but I had a feeling that there was more to this than she was telling me. I decided there was no point in getting into an argument until I had some real justification for objecting to this new arrangement and decided to let matters lie until I could find out. We left the discussion agreeing that she would work the extra nights until Christmas and review again then.




Working Class



First thing the next day, Saturday, I called on Andy and related the facts, as I knew them, about the discussion between Holly and I the previous evening. He played darts for our 'local' and told me was aware that the 'Badger' had submitted two teams in the league. He also informed me that the leading light in the 'Badger' team was none other than Bullet Barnes!

"But I thought he lived abroad?" I blurted out. 

Bullet had left town quite suddenly not long after Holly and I married, seven years ago. We never did find out why, but there were rumours that he had molested some young girl and that his father had paid the girl's family to hush it up and that the only condition her family stipulated before accepting the payment was that Bullet had to leave town. 

Now he was back and Holly must have known about it! If he was now a regular in the 'Badger' there was no way she couldn't have known. Why hadn't she told me he was back? 

"He's been back about six months." Andy told me, "and his father's set him up as manager in one of his car dealerships, so he's not short of money, drives a Jag convertible to boot. Nice car that. From what I hear, he's not changed at all, still a loud mouth and still as arrogant as ever."

This was not good news and it gave me great cause for concern. I walked slowly home from Andy's place. My mind was in turmoil, full of conflicting thoughts. Holly had been his girlfriend, or at least he thought so. According to her, she only dated him occasionally and they were never exclusive. I had always wondered about that. She certainly seemed to spend a lot of time with him in those days, but he had been away for nearly seven year's and as far as I knew had never kept in touch with any of his old friends. I knew that Holly received mail from a pen pal she had had since her school days and that she also kept in touch with some University friends by post, but I had never opened any mail addressed specifically to her. Could she have kept in touch with him? I didn't know what to think, but I knew I had to do something. 

When I got home it was mid afternoon and the kids were watching telly. Holly was in our bedroom getting ready for work. I was going to wait until tomorrow when we had the whole day to discus things, but my anger prevented me from waiting. I watched as she carefully applied her make up. She had her dressing gown on and I could see glimpses of her black half cup bra as she raised her arms to fix her hair. She watched me as I stood there observing her actions and smiled at me. I thought, she never takes as much care with her clothing or make up when we are going out, but for her admirers at work she was prepared to spend ages perfecting her image. I turned and checked what she was wearing tonight and saw she had laid out a dress that I had not seen before. It was one of those that had buttons running from the V neck front to finish just below her waist, with tight matching belt that would emphasise her trim waist and accentuate her full breasts. Suddenly, jealousy took over and I just lost it completely and waded straight in.

"Why didn't you tell me that Bullet Barnes was back in town? Did you think I wouldn't find out? Not only do I have to find out from someone else, that he's back, but that he's also a regular at the 'Badger' and sniffing around you again!"

Holly didn't even looked surprised at my outburst, she just coolly turned and faced me and replied, "You're reaction just now is precisely why I didn't tell you. I tried several times recently to open the subject, but the moment never seemed to be right. As for him sniffing around me, he's only doing what most of the other punters in there do every night! You have known all along that I flirt with them and give them a little flash to keep their interest and you have never complained before, in fact it seems to turn you on that your wife is lusted after by other men, so don't come crying to me just because Bullet takes an interest in me! It's more than you have been doing lately!"

With that said, she shrugged off her dressing gown and stepped into her dress. God, I thought, she's absolutely beautiful. I tried to reach for her but she slapped my hand away and said, "Don't even think about it, I've just done my hair and face and I don't have the time for this. You come in here practically accusing me of having an affair with Bullet Barnes and then try to paw me. Well you got no chance now!. We'll talk tonight when I get home."

Before I could stop myself, I said, "if you're sober enough to hold a conversation we will!"

She almost screamed at me, "What's that suppose to mean? Yes, OK, I have a drink or two after hours, so what? Sometimes I think I take it, just to give me the strength to come home and face you and your perpetual inquisitions! You're fucking right we'll talk tonight!"

She stormed out the room and off to work, but at least she stopped to kiss the kids before she left. I sat there on the bed stunned. I went over our confrontation in my head and the first thing that struck me was, what had I said that suggested to her that she and Barnes were having an affair? I went over it again and again, but failed to see the connection. That, in turn made me consider that she is having an affair with him and maybe she suspected that I knew more than I was letting on. I was totally confused and went right back to the beginning of what I saw as the downturn in our marriage. Last Easter, that was five months ago, Barnes had been back in town roughly six months ago, so the timing was about right. Her general moodiness apart from when we went to Majorca seemed to peak around the weekends when she had been working. It was no good. I decided to wait and have it out with her that night regardless of how late she came home.

I took care of the kids, fed and bathed them, before sitting in front of the TV pretending to watch Match of the Day. The programme finished at 11.20 and I switched it off and went to bed, but was unable to sleep. I got up and went downstairs to sit in the darkness and await her return. I heard the sound of a car draw up and peaked out the window. The street light was out so I could not see the car clearly, but I knew it wasn't a Taxi. I expected to hear the car door slam shut, but it was nearly five minutes before that happened. I pulled back from the window and listened as her heels tapped there way up the path to our door. Holly entered and switched on the light and took her coat off. She turned and screamed when she saw me standing watching her. I looked at my wife and noted that the top two buttons on her dress were not fastened correctly. She saw where I was looking and casually refastened. 

She said, "You nearly gave me a heart attack, I thought you would be in bed."

"You mean, you wish I had been in bed?" I retorted. "That way I would not have noticed that you took over five minutes to get out the car before you came in. Who brought you home anyway, that was no taxi?"

"I am not going to have this discussion right now, I'm tired and intend to go to bed."

This time I was having none of her bullshit and delaying tactics, I spun her round and dumped her on the settee. "No you're fucking well not!" I said seething with anger. I saw the fear in her eyes for she had never seen this side of me before. I was an angry and frightened man. Angry at her refusal to talk to me until she was ready and had prepared her arguments and frightened that I was losing her. 

Wearily, she said, "Alright, Bullet brought me home tonight, but that's the first time he's ever done it. I was so mad at you for what happened earlier tonight that when he caught me by surprise and kissed me, I responded. He took a few liberties and managed to unfasten the top buttons of my dress before I could stop him. But I did stop him! I want you to know that I am not having an affair with him, or any one else for that matter! Now you can choose to believe me or not, as you wish. I will not allow you to continually silently interrogate me with your eyes every night after work. I have done nothing to warrant your suspicions and quite frankly, I'm tired of continually watching what I do, what I say and how I dress for work and always that look of silent criticism in your eyes!. You can either live with the fact that in my job I come into contact with lots of men, any of whom would like to fuck my lights out and Ok, I flirt with them and that's as far as it goes. Now you have to decide, can you live with this or not. It's your choice, but I cannot take much more?"

She got up and stomped off to bed. I was once again going crazy with mixed emotions. I wanted to believe her and mostly I did, but the one thing was missing from her outburst tonight, she had never once said that she loved me! That's what hurt the most. When I thought about it, I could not remember her telling me she loved me for over six months now and before that, it was a very rare occurrence. 

When I went to bed and tried to kiss her goodnight, her back was firmly turned away and I think she pretended to be asleep. I lay for two hours trying to sleep and in the end got up and sat in the living room staring into space. I don't know how long I sat there, but at some point I fell asleep and awoke to find Holly must have put a blanket over me at some point. I returned to our bedroom and climbed back into bed and reached out to her. She turned round and clung to me as we both wept like babies. I told her that I believed her and she said, "I'm sorry that I put myself in a position where he was able to kiss and grope me. I'll be far more careful when he's around, it's hard to defend yourself, his hands are everywhere! I should have told you that he was back in town, but I just couldn't find the right opportunity."

She even offered to give up the Thursday job, but I told her to give it a try, if either of us found it was starting to screw us up as a couple, she would stop there and then. We agreed that our marriage was more important than the extra income. 

Chapter 4 -- Things come to a head

They say that make up sex is the best, but we had no chance that morning to find out as the kids came bouncing in demanding to be fed. Later, we more than made up for that night and the next, I truly felt we were back on track.

The next month or two was pretty good. I got a couple of commissions for proper portraits and I have to admit that it was Holly's mother that was responsible for me getting them. They both paid well and we were comfortably managing to put money away once more. They were badly needed as the country was in the grip of inflation running at 8.5% and getting worse. Britain had joined the EU and enforced pay restraint. A maximum pay award of 3% was the order of the day. The Middle Eastern oil producers were restricting the flow of oil to the west and as a result a three day working week was about to be imposed on every working man. 

It was November when my doubts were once again given a prod. This time it was Andy who put me wise to some shenanigans going on at the 'Badger'. We were out for a drink with some of our pals one Saturday lunchtime when he pulled me aside and asked, "How are you and Holly getting on?" 

I was instantly on full alert and told him, "OK, I guess. Why are you asking?" I knew he would not have raised the subject without good reason and my heart was sinking as I awaited his response.

"We were playing a darts league match in the 'Badger' last Thursday, just a normal league fixture. Towards the end of the night, Bullet Barnes was at the bar talking to Holly then started whispering to her. She shook her head at whatever he was talking about and moved away, but he called her back and said something else to her and she looked around the bar and just nodded in agreement. He started spouting off as usual and said, "I bet I can get Holly to remove her bra in front of everyone here." There was much nudging and whispering going on and money was changing hands. Bullet was holding a book and recording the bets until he had a pile of notes in front of him. He then called to Holly and said, "Ok Holly, There's fifty quid in it for you if you stand on the bar here and take off your bra. Are you game?"

Andy continued as I stood there wondering what the hell was coming next, he had to be joking, but he doesn't make jokes like that and said, "Holly looked over to her boss, Manny and he nodded in approval. She clambered up onto the bar counter using a stool and with many willing hands trying to take the opportunity to cop a feel of her arse in the process. She slapped them all away and told them that she would stop right now if they kept that up. They stopped and she stood there. Everyone, and I have to admit me included held our breath's as she reached for her sweater, but instead of removing it as we all hoped, she slipped her arms out of the sleeves without revealing anything other than her belly button, She then proceeded to unclasp her bra, it was a front opening one and she took it off, one arm at a time and finally with a flourish held it up for all to see. Honestly, Gimpy, she didn't reveal a thing and there was a lot of grumbling from the guys who had placed the bets. Bullet was smiling as he helped her down and someone tugged the bra from her hand. She tried to get it off the guy, but he just held it above her head out of her reach and she jumped up a couple of times to try and reach it. You can guess what happened, her tits were bouncing and everyone could see her nipples hardening due to the friction. Holly must have realised what was happening and strode off back behind the bar, picked up her coat and bag and started to walk out. Manny stepped in at that point and said, "OK guys you've had your fun, now give Holly back her bra and you, he said, pointing at Bullet, pay her what you owe her, she won the bet fair and square." To be fair, Bullet paid up and a crimson faced Holly disappeared into the Ladies to put her clothes back in order."

Holly had made no mention of this to me when she came home that night nor had she since! I looked at Andy at a loss about what to say, when he said, "There's a bit more." He said, "and it's this bit that made me ask you about how you two were getting on." 

I was afraid to speak, so he said the words that I was dreading, "Last orders were called soon after that and Holly started collecting up the empties. She went over to the table were Bullet was sitting with a couple of his team mates. She reached for the glasses and when her hands were full, he took the opportunity to run his hand up under her skirt. She just froze for a moment and he took the opportunity to go even higher. Holly dropped the glasses and turned to berate him, when he spun her round and pulled him onto his lap. It looked to me that she was not trying too hard to get free and it must have been his conclusion to as he took the opportunity to grab her breast and kiss her on the lips. She did tell him to stop it and managed to free herself from his clutches and he slapped her behind as she stormed off. Manny had to come out and he blasted Bullet verbally and threatened to ban him if anything like that happened again. Well, you know Bullet he made a joke of it and started making some smart comments about being old friends with her and not doing anything he hadn't done before. He then boasted that he would 'have her' before Christmas and to prove it he would get her knickers off and have them framed for the trophy cabinet. I made a lunge for him, but my mates knowing how close I am to the two of you pulled me away before I could reach him. Just as well really as he would have murdered me."

Andy was only about five foot six in height and ten stone dripping wet. Bullet Barnes was now about six foot and weighed in at nearly fifteen stone. I asked if that was it and he said, "I think so but as we hung around waiting for a taxi, Bullet pulled up outside the pub and the next thing was Holly came out he pub and jumped in and they drove off."

"What time was that?" I asked reluctantly, fearing what his answer might be. 

"It must have been about twenty past eleven, because just as we were leaving, I heard Manny telling everyone it was time to get out. I reckon he was scared he would lose his licence, if the cops found anyone drinking after hours as he was already on a warning about that. I also heard him say to Holly that she could go, he would finish up in here. He asked if she wanted him to call her a taxi and she said it was alright tonight, she had a lift." 

I thought back to the previous Thursday night and remembered I was in bed reading when she got in. I rarely go to sleep when she's out late, and checked the time, it was twelve fifteen. It doesn't take more than ten minutes to get home from the 'Badger' by car! Where the hell was she in the intervening time? I felt sick and thanked Andy and told him I had to leave. He said he would walk with me and as we walked home, he apologised for being the bearer of such bad news, he had been in a quandary all weekend whether to mention it to me or not. If the truth be told, at least I now knew that Holly was keeping things from me and I once again had to risk her wrath, by confronting her, I could see no alternative, we had to sort this and let the cards fall as they may.

When I got home, the kids were over at my sister's house and Holly was sitting on the couch watching TV. I switched it off and simply told her to shut up and listen when she started to protest. This must have surprised her, I don't often act in such a rude manner and certainly not to her. She sat there and started to listen as I said with more than a touch of acidity in my voice. "I hear that you stripped off your bra in the 'Badger' last week? I also heard you were paid £50 for doing it, have you changed your job description to include stripping now?" 

She didn't look surprised at my charge and she said, "Bullet Barnes put me up to it, it was no great deal. When I went back to Uni, after that last Christmas with you and before I realised that I was pregnant, we were always short of beer money. So, Bullet dreamed up this scam that involved both of us going into a busy bar. I would be wearing something pretty tight highlighting my breasts and pretty much displaying the goods while he circulated, setting the scene and talking customer's into putting their money into a kitty. He sold them on the tale that I could be persuaded to remove my bra in full view of everyone. He had me rehearse and rehearse, until I could do it without removing my blouse or revealing any thing at all. Of course, the punters didn't know that and they were expecting to get to see my tits. He wasn't greedy, he would only take a couple of bob from each man, so they didn't really feel all that cheated when I performed the trick. Bullet was pretty good at charming any guys that did get antsy and his physical size intimated them in any case. At the end of the day, each of them had only lost about the price of a pint. We only did it three or four times, before the word went round and we would be warned off as soon as we entered a new pub."

"OK," I said, my voice rising with indignation, "I can see that it would be a good fun scam, with no real victim when you were a student, but you're supposedly a happily married woman now, so what made you agree to perform again? Did you think that I wouldn't get to hear of it and why did you think that I would not be fucking angry when I found out?""

"Earlier that night, before all this came up, I had been chatting to Bullet about our need for a cheap reliable car. He asked my how much I was prepared to pay and when I told him we had only £100, he told me he just had a second hand mini come in and he could let me have it for £150. I told him that was way outside our budget and had to get back to work as a customer was waiting. Later, after he had been drinking a fair bit, he called me over and said that if I did the bra strip scam for him, right now, he was sure he could get the £50 I needed to make up the difference. I was tempted, but said no, but he talked to Manny and it was Manny that told me to go for it. That's how I came to do the bloody thing, I don't know why you are getting so angry, you've used sketches of me doing all sorts of things to earn money, so I thought it would be OK as the punters never got to see anything! As for you finding out, I saw Andy that night and knew it would get back to you, so I asked him not to say anything. I realised, almost right away, that I shouldn't have done it. I hoped Andy would keep his mouth shut like he promised, but obviously he did not. I should have told you myself when I got home, but the opportunity slipped by."




Working Class



Andy hadn't said anything to me about Holly asking him to keep mum, but that was typical of him. 

"The bra scam was not the only reason he felt obliged to tell me about! The real thing that disturbed him more than anything was the incident at closing time, when you let Bastard Barnes touch you up and kiss you?" 

She thought for a minute, clearly trying to recall the incident and then her face went red and I knew she was aware of what I was referring to. "Oh, that was nothing! Things like that happen from time to time, it goes with the territory as they say. I admit that Bullet took things way too far that night and I made him aware that it was not to happen again!"

Holly looked at me and could see that I was unconvinced, so she said almost playfully, "Look Charlie, a barmaid has to flirt with her customers, if she wants to get decent tips and have a deaf ear to some of the suggestions she hears. That particular night, the team was celebrating, they had beaten last year's champions and they were all buzzing. They had been tipping me well, plus they had not reacted badly about the trick I had pulled on them, so naturally, a few of them tried to cop a feel when the opportunity presented itself. Andy must have told you how I reacted when they refused, at first to hand me back my bra. Another thing I need to tell you about, doubtless Andy already has, I left work early that night, Bullet took me to see the Mini. It was parked on the forecourt and we drove over to see if it was what I wanted. I could only look at it from the outside as the keys were locked in the Showroom. It looks great, but I told Bullet that I wasn't sure. He said he would reserve it for me, but I have to let him know by Monday night, if I want it. I think it's a bargain, can we go and take another look at it tomorrow?"

"I'm not going anywhere near Mr fucking Barnes, I would probably end up in the clink for assault after what you've just told me. No, I won't go there, but I will get Andy to go with you to give it the once over. If he thinks it's a good buy, then go ahead and make the deal."

Holly jumped up and was all over me, her excitement was bubbling over and one thing led to another and we were soon at it on the living room floor. It was one of our better sessions and when we were both lying sated, she said softly. "All that doesn't matter anymore in any case, I have told Manny that I won't be working any more Thursdays from now on! Three nights in a row are just too much and it isn't fair to you or the kids."

A feeling of relief swept through me, I was going to insist that she stopped working Thursday's myself, but she had saved me from having to make that demand. It was time to collect the kids, so I got dressed and collected them, stopping at Andy's to make the arrangements about seeing the Mini. He was more than happy to escort Holly. He said by way of a wind up, "You know it does my ego a lot of good to be seen out with someone as classy as Holly. It'll make my ex girlfriend jealous when she hears about it!" 

"You should be so lucky as to get a gorgeous woman like Holly to even take a second look at you!"

"I have my moments." He said dryly and I didn't doubt it.

He asked about what Holly had said about Thursday night and I told him the gist of it. He agreed that her explanation was plausible and once again, disaster had been averted by her quick thinking, but I was now fully on guard. The next day, he collected Holly and they went to check out the Mini. They came back with the news that she was now the owner and that she could pick it up as soon as we had paid the balance owed. Andy, took me aside and said quietly, "That's a right bargain she's got there. That car is worth at least twice what she paid for it. Bullet must be taking a huge loss on it!"

As he was leaving, Holly gave him a hug and kissed him quickly on the lips. If he was embarrassed about it he covered it well with a joke. "If that's how you thank me, can't wait for the next car." She turned and went back to making dinner and he said to me. "Mind you, there's one thing about her new car, it's certainly distinctive!" Seeing the questioning look on my face, he said, "Remember the Michael Caine movie, the Italian job? Well her new car could have been one of the ones used in the film. It's Post Office red with a Union Jack painted on the roof."

That night in bed, Holly and I made love. It was a nice slow fuck with both of us taking our time to ensure that the other was fully aroused before culminating in a nice orgasm each. Holly cuddled close and said, "Now that I am no longer working Thursday's do you mind if I start going to the Bingo again?" I was relaxed and in that post sex aura, nothing she could have asked would have been refused, I simply said, "OK."

After that, life returned to normal, or what passes for normal in our house. Our love making had steadied out at three or four times a week, but if the frequency was less than I really desired, it was more than countered by the passion extracted when we did couple. Holly's Bingo nights resumed and she even had a win one week. Not a fortune, but welcome none the less.

I suppose that we would have continued in this fashion if I hadn't bumped into Kate, one of Holly's Bingo friends who just let it slip that 'she was sorry Holly couldn't make it to the Bingo last week'! Shit in a bucket was my first thought, for Holly had went out as usual last Wednesday, returning at her normal time of ten fifteen. I remember so distinctly because I was in the mood for a ride and had to settle for a kiss and cuddle as Holly said was too tired for any sexual gymnastics that night, but she would be 'better' tomorrow night and she was!

The following Wednesday, I arranged for Mary to come over just after seven to baby sit her niece and nephew. When I asked her, she took one look at my face and said. "It's Holly, isn't it?" When I just nodded, the tears running down my cheeks, she hugged me and said, "Stupid cow, the fucking stupid cow." I think she must have inherited the second sight gene from our mother. She warned me that I had to stand tall and don't let whatever I found out or saw tonight to compel me to violence, "The last thing you're kids need is you behind bars!" 

We had arranged that she would come over just after Holly's normal departure time of seven. I would leave the back door unlocked for her. I waited until I heard Holly's Mini start before jumping into my van and followed her discreetly allowing a couple of cars to get between us when we reached the main round into town. I followed her to the town centre and watched as she parked next to Bullet Cars forecourt. Andy was right, her car was easy to spot, the roof decoration made it very distinctive. I watched as he greeted her with a long kiss at the showroom door and walked her to the back where his office was situated. The place was lit up like a Christmas tree until shortly after they had disappeared, then the showroom lights were extinguished. The forecourt lighting was still on and I could see light coming from his office. 

The Showroom door was still open when I tried it, the cocky bastard was too idle to even ensure their privacy. I crept up to the door, not that they would have heard me if I had been wearing tacked boots. Holly was naked already lying on her back on the coffee table next to his desk. She had her legs wide open and Bullet was approaching her with his big cock erect and swaying in front of her face, "Suck it!" he commanded. She refused and he slapped her right tit causing her to scream in pain. "I told you once, you slut, you do as I say or the pictures will be sent to Gimpy or maybe we should call him Cucky from now on. Now suck!"

I had an almost perfect viewing position and watched them as she sucked him to a climax. While she was busy sucking his cock, he was playing with her engorged nipples, tweaking them and pinching then viciously. She was writhing in pain from this abuse, but his other hand was firmly behind her head forcing his cock deeper and deeper into her mouth until finally, she almost passed out from lack of air. He released her head and she gagged and was sick into the waste bin beside the table. When she had finished, he simply presented his cock to her lips and she opened to receive him once more. He climaxed and pulled out to spray her face and tits with his semen. It clung to her face and when she tried to use her hand to wipe herself, he ordered her to leave it where it was. He was still erect and moved between her legs and entered her with a single thrust. She must have been well lubricated as she just grunted and moved her arse to accommodate him and aid his intrusion into her sopping pussy. He fucked her for several minutes and I watched in disgust as she had a massive orgasm. He ordered her onto her feet and over to his desk. He placed her so she was facing the desk and told her to bend over. She readily complied and he once again entered her, this time from behind. Holly was getting into it now as Bullet teased her with his big cock. He was slowly fucking her and withdrawing until he was almost out of her. I watched as her pussy lips would cling to his knob end and she started screaming at him to fuck her hard. He complied, all the time asking her if he was a better fuck than Gimpy and other stuff of a similar nature. I strived to shut it all out and was about to leave when he shuddered and shot his load up her cunt. 

He ordered to clean herself up and get dressed, which she did. Before she left, she said. "I think Gimpy suspects something, he normally cross questions me after work about every minute I'm late, where I've been and who with and so on, but he has stopped doing it and it concerns me that he may be planning something. I can't be late home Friday or Saturday this week. In any case I want to stop this affair now before things get out of hand. You've had your fun with me these past two weeks, can't you just leave me alone to try and get my marriage back on track. I love my kids and don't want to see them hurt! If only I hadn't allowed you to take those bloody pictures."

He looked as if he had been struck and reached over and caught her breast in his big mitt and squeezed. Judging from the squeal she emitted, it must have been really hurting her. Pulling her up close, he hissed loud enough for me to hear, "Listen you cunt, you're mine to fuck and you will fuck whenever and whoever I tell you to. I'm not ready to stop screwing you and I have planned an expansion to our party for next Wednesday, so you fucking well better turn up on time. You are going to entertain me and some of my associates, then maybe, just maybe, I'll let you alone for a while."

She dropped to her knees and clung to him with her arms around his thighs and I watched as she implored him not to give her to his friends like some cheap whore. He laughed and said, "You slut, you know that once you get into it, you'll take on anything with a cock and you will perform next week, just like the slut you are!"

After that she let go of him and sat there on her knees crying. He pulled her to her feet and said, "Get yourself off home, you have twenty minutes left before he will start to get suspicious. When you get there, I want you to get Gimpy into bed and insist that he go down on you. You are not to clean yourself any more than you just have! I want him to experience some of what I have deposited in you're hot cunt. Do you understand?"

She nodded and dried her eyes with a tissue from her bag. He kissed her again and her arms as if without any conscious effort on her part, went behind his neck to pull him closer.

I left them there embracing and returned home and to await her return. Mary was waiting with Andy for me. This was a surprise but from the flushed looks on both their faces, I could tell they had been doing more than just talking. I briefly confirmed that she was fucking Bullet and that she intended to do so again next Wednesday. They both urged me to wait until after next Wednesday before confronting her. Andy said, "I know you, Gimpy, you want to go over there and punch his lights out, but you have two young children to consider and a home with a mortgage that needs to be maintained. The last thing you can afford is to wind up in the clink over that bastard!" 

Knowing what he said made sense was one thing, but inside I was seething, he was right and I wanted revenge on him, on her? They both kept asking me to promise that I would do nothing to indicate that I was aware of her infidelity. I promised, but I wondered if I had the ability to sit back with the knowledge I now possessed and say nothing.

Chapter 5 -- Confrontation

Holly arrived home from her evening at the 'Bingo' and was all smiles. She came over and kissed me and I played along when she wanted to go to bed. She stripped off and the sight of her luscious body, a body that I had seen being abused less than an hour before, made my cock throb in anticipation. I wondered how sick I must be to get turned on at the sight of my wife's abused body. Even now, I can't explain it. Maybe I just wanted to prove that I could give her as many if not more orgasm's than Bullet Barnes or maybe I just wanted to assert my male pride, but whatever the reason, I had a throbbing erection and I was determined to make her beg for mercy. 

She pushed me onto my back and straddled my head, slowly lowering pussy until it was just out of reach of my searching tongue. She allowed herself to tease me like that for a few minutes before her lust must have gotten the upper hand and she lowered herself fully onto my mouth. I sucked and nibbled her to a couple of orgasms, revelling in her soppy pussy. I tried hard but could not detect any of Bullet's seed. It must have been well mixed with the juices streaming from her cunt. After her second orgasm from my tongue, I was too impatient to wait any longer and I pushed her off me and onto her hands and knees. Without any further foreplay, I rammed my cock up her cheating cunt as hard I as I could. She let out a howl and told me to go a bit easier, I guess her cunt must have been tender from the abuse it received earlier on the cock of her lover, Barnes. I was not having any of that and hammered on until I came. I did not wait for her orgasm, but she convulsed into her own just after mine.

As we recovered, she said, "What was that all about? You are usually a tender and gentle lover, but tonight you were like an animal. What got into you?"

I was never to be more tempted than I was at that moment to scream at her that I knew all about her and her lover, but I controlled my temper and replied trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, "I was just feeling particularly randy tonight and you were out at the Bingo, so when you came on to me for some sex, I lost control and let it all hang out."

She smiled and said, "Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, that's the best loving we had for ages. 

I kissed her lips, lips that were wrapped around her lover's cock earlier that night and said, "Holly, I love you so very much and I live to keep you happy. It's late and I have work tomorrow. See you in the morning."

Andy and I met up the next day after work and over a pint we talked about what had transpired at the showroom. He said, "Next Wednesday night Mr Barnes is going to get a little visit from some of your friends. You need to get your self a cast iron alibi. I suggest you visit the Queen's Head and stay there between eight and ten fifteen. Make sure you're noticed and try to act as if you haven't a care in the world."

He didn't need to say any more, personally, I wanted to be the one to do Barnes, but I was touched that he was prepared take issue with him on my behalf. I told him about the photographs he had used initially to get Holly involved with him. It didn't excuse her in any way, she could have come to me, but didn't. Instead she went back to him and from what I could see, she was more than willing to do whatever it took to please him! Andy and I settled on a plan that would point the finger in my direction, so my alibi was imperative to my continued freedom.

The days until the next Wednesday dragged by, Holly took herself off to work as usual and I made no mention of the fact that she was late coming in both nights. I did notice, however that she was wearing a corset thing and asked where she had acquired it? I knew full well that Barnes had given it to her and listened more out curiosity to see how she would answer when she explained, "It's not a corset, it's called a Basque and I bought it mail order from my catalogue. I thought It would help spice up our sex life!"

There was nothing I could say to refute that. She did look very sexy wearing it and even more so when she started to slowly strip off her skirt and nylons, not tights! I asked, "When did you start wearing stockings to work?"

"Tights don't work with a Basque, any way it comes with suspenders ready made for stockings. When I decided to wear the Basque tonight, I just had to complete the image with the full set. I was going to keep it for just us, but it was so pretty and wearing it made feel so sexy, that I couldn't resist teasing the punters with the odd flash of my stockings."

She looked at me standing there in just my shorts and my prick making a huge tent and smiled, "It seems to have the same effect on you. Come here and let me take care of that." I did and she did!

At last, Wednesday arrived and I could hardly do any work that day, my mind was on what was to take place that night. Mary came over to baby sit and I left for my rendezvous at The Queen's Head. I made sure to circulate and talk to just about everyone I knew that was in there, it helped take my mind off what was happening elsewhere. Around nine thirty, Andy came into the pub and catching my eye, smiled and nodded. We found a corner table and he told me all about it.

"We got there just in time to see Holly park up and go into the showroom. Just like you said, he didn't lock the door and we were about to follow them, when another car arrived and two more men went into the showroom. We gave them ten minutes and crept in, we had balaclava's on back to front and had cut eye holes so we could see. We had checked each other to ensure that we couldn't be identified and holding a length of scaffold pole we walked up to the office door. All three men were naked and Holly had just completed what looked like a striptease for them. Their erections were sticking out and she moved to take Bullet in her mouth when we crashed through the door. They were so surprised that all we had to do was threaten them with the poles and they meekly allowed themselves to be restrained. By this time their cocks had shrivelled. I pulled Holly up off Bullet's prick and he tried to be a hero, so I thumped him on his arm just hard enough to discourage him, I think I broke his arm from the sound of his screams."

Andy paused to refresh himself with a gulp of beer and continued, "He thought we were there to rob him and told us where the safe was, so to maintain this fiction for a minute or two longer, we emptied his safe. I told him he was a scumbag and it was time for him to find out that blackmailing another man's wife into fucking him could be painful. We sat him at his desk; Jimmy grabbed his leg and placed on the desk top and Tommy held it tight. Jimmy pulled his chair away from the desk and I hefted the pole ready to bring it down onto his leg. He screamed that he would give us anything we wanted, but not to hurt him. If you could have seen him beg, Gimpy, it was magic to see the fear in his eyes. He even offered us Holly! He said we could take her and fuck her anyway we liked, she was just a slut and would not object in any way. He told her to help him, but to her credit she didn't move. I brought the pole down, straight onto his kneecap. Bullet screamed as his knee simply exploded. Jimmy held his hand on the desk, Bullet was screaming and writhing in pain and I smashed his hand with pole. He passed out at that and fell to the floor, so I stomped on his balls a couple of times for good measure. We needed to hurry now as his screams may have been heard, so as we had also found the pictures of Holly in the safe, we were ready to go and as planned, I left one picture and Holly's clothes and bag at the scene for the police to find. I took Holly home still naked beneath the donkey jacket I gave her. She didn't utter a word the whole way home, too shocked by the violence to even ask how I knew where she lived. Mary took her inside and I came straight here."