29 comments/ 48551 views/ 13 favorites I Never Heard The Comma By: AJPhynn Author's Notes: The inspiration for this story came from reading comments posted to one MSTarot's stories, lamenting its poor grammar, while itself being even less grammatically correct! It is dedicated to all those authors who have given me such enjoyment with their offerings -- MSTarot, DQS, Rehnquist (where are you?), SS06 and others. Like the stories I enjoy, this is quite long. The story revolves around sex, but there is minimal sex action, so if that is what you are looking for, or prefer short stories, please skip this one. Finally, I am English and so this story is written in English, not American English. Thus 'humour' is spelt with a 'u' and 'recognise' with an 's'; an 'ass' is a donkey (sorry, mule), and 'pass' is what you hope happens when you (or your kids) sit an exam -- it is not a euphemism for dying! Lower and Upper 6th forms correspond to the Junior and Senior years at an American High School. We have more liberal laws relating to alcohol: our kids are allowed to drink at 18. The Age of Consent is 16 -- although where it becomes relevant in this story, everyone involved is over 18. With that said, over to you. Please do comment at the end: it's the best way I can learn about writing. ~-----~-----~-----~-----~ "Why don't you retire?" Phil asked. "I mean, you've been teaching for 30 years or so, you've been the Head of Department for the last 10, and HeadMistress for the last 2 -- what more do you want to achieve? There's no mortgage left on the house, we're not extravagant, and between your pension and mine, we will be comfortably off at the very least." He paused. "And I could get very, very used to waking up every morning like this -- and something tells me that you could too!" He was right. The morning had become my favourite time for love making. Not that I object to Phil's advances at any other time of the day or night, but taking his morning woody in either my mouth or pussy (and preferably both) as the morning light starts to brighten the bedroom really brings out the amorous slut in me. Of course, during term, things got a bit rushed and so our morning activity was more of a mental connection that a physical release. However, now that school had broken up for the summer holidays, we could take our time: luxuriating in the sensations of our bodies moving in tune with each other and then cuddling up together talking about this, that and the other before starting all over again. On this particular Wednesday morning, the talking about this, that and the other had roamed from a discussion about possibly going somewhere hot, sunny and secluded at Christmas through a couple of other topics before ending up with Phil's question of my retirement. "You old horn-dog," I laughed. "You know damn well that I could." I crawled up from my under his arm and kissed him softly on his lips. "I love you so much, and you always make me feel so loved. I could happily stay here all day, but somehow, I don't think we could do it day after day in retirement: we'ld soon get bed sores and one of us would have to do the laundry before we ran out of sheets. "And I am thinking of retiring," I acknowledged slowly, "it's just ...." "Just what?" I rested my head back on his chest, and looked away from him as my eyes began to brim with tears. "After everything that happened with Allan, I'm scared that you will fall out of love with me and then I'll be left on my own, and not know what to do. It sounds silly, but the job is my safety net and I'm frightened of letting it go." Phil gently lifted my head until he was looking directly into my eyes. He wiped away the tear that had gotten loose, and was rolling down my cheek. His voice carried all of the authority of his days managing projects in the Far East, but, at the same time, was infinitely gentle. "I love you, Julie, and I am not letting you go again. I wouldn't know what to do without you. To bastardise the RSPCA's slogan 'This Phil is for life, not just for Christmas'," he added with a smile. "But there's something you're hiding here. I've never asked what really happened between you and Allan -- it wasn't my place to do so and I really don't want to know. But this is affecting you, and I think you need to get it out in the open. You can tell me, or you can talk it through with one of your friends, Dani perhaps, or go to a counsellor -- I am sure you know of one through the school system. All I can promise you is that it makes no difference to me -- I love you for what you are now: what happened happened, but it shaped you into the fun-loving person that I see with me now in bed, and who I love holding and making love to. I just want to see you happy and worry free, and I think that letting it all go will help." With that, he gave me a long kiss and stroked my hair as he kept looking into my eyes -- searching from one to the other. All I saw was love coloured by concern. I kissed him back and I needed to hold him. I reared back, put both hands round the back of his head, and nearly broke his neck as I pulled him towards me with a vicious tug, pressing his head hard into my breasts. My tears let loose this time, and dropped down into his hair. Just before he turned blue, I let him go. This time, I started the kiss and lapped at his lips and tongue with all of the thanks that I could muster. "You lovely man. You're right of course, I do need to get rid of the demons, and if I can't tell you, then it doesn't say much for our future, does it?" "Let me go for a pee, and then I'll come back, snuggle down with you, and tell you everything. At least you'll understand me a bit better, and maybe it'll do what you hope." Trying to portray more confidence than I felt, and biting back a comment that I just hoped it wouldn't make things worse, I went to the bathroom to gather my thoughts. Before I go any further, I should introduce myself. My name is Julie Patterson and I am in my late 50's. Phil is my second husband -- we got married last year, a couple of years after I had divorced my my first husband, the aforementioned Allan. Depending on how I have my hair, I'm around 5ft 8 and weigh in at, well let's just say that I have a pretty good figure for my age, with the right curves in the right places. I'm not a sporty person, but I love walking for relaxation -- and being Head of a large secondary school keeps me on my toes both physically and mentally. I ran the English Department before I was promoted to the Headship, and I still teach the 6th form -- a class which now shows such promise. I climbed back into bed, and nestled under the Phil's protective arm. "I suppose it all really began when my parents moved down from Huddersfield when I was 16. Dad was moved by his business, but he managed to put it off until I had completed my O-Levels. We moved into town here, and I had a lonely summer away from my friends. Starting at a new school wasn't as bad as I feared - mainly because I would have to have changed schools at home anyway. Within two weeks, Dani entered into my life. "She was in my History class, and I hadn't spoken more than two words to her when she came and sat down next to me at lunch. 'Ay-oop, lass, yoo alreet?' she said in a dreadful parody of my Yorkshire accent. I was a bit sensitive about that as everyone else in the school seem to speak in that posh Home Counties accent and I felt my face tighten. 'Don't fret, Julie, I'm not teasing you -- I just thought it would be a good ice-breaker,' she added. I turned to look at her and she was smiling -- I didn't even think she knew my name. "'I'm Dani. It must be hard leaving your roots, and having to start all over again. And girls can be a moody bunch of bitches at the best of times, but I don't like seeing people on their own when they've done nothing to cause it. Oh, don't worry -- I can be the moodiest of bitches when I get pissed off, but we'll cross that bridge when and if we ever get there.' "Jeez," I chuckled. "She really hasn't changed! The whirlwind that blew into my life that lunch time is still the same whirlwind we both know now -- although she just seems to have defied Physics and gained energy with age! "I've always been a bit shy -- it comes from being the only child of northern and slightly old-fashioned parents -- but Dani introduced me to her friends, and I became the 'quiet' one of the group: the one the teachers all turned to when things were getting out of hand. I seemed to be able to calm things down without upsetting any of them, and I think that's when the idea of becoming a teacher first took hold. "Over the next two years, our friendship grew: my parents never took to her. I think they had just never come across anyone so forthright and open before and didn't know how to handle it -- especially if the subject of boys ever came up. Sex, to my parents, was something that rabbits did. My mother couldn't say anything and the only words my father ever uttered to me on the subject were provoked by my mother ranting on about the activities of some sleazy TV reporter. "'Pre-marital sex!?' he exclaimed, 'Good God, your mother doesn't even believe in post-marital sex.' "And that, in a nutshell, was the total parental input to my sex education!" Phil snickered and stroked my hair. "Well," he said, "thank God someone taught you something! Don't tell me: it was Dani, wasn't it?" "The theory, yes," I agreed. "Her parents were totally the opposite to mine. They were just total open about everything. Well, you know them -- they were the most loving and friendly couple you could ever meet: it was easy to see where Dani got her personality from. "The first time I ever saw an adult in underwear was when I stayed over at her house: her mother used to make us breakfast in a negligee and knickers, while her father used to wander around in just a pair of old and very tattered boxers. I later found out that they only wore something because I was coming round -- usually they just went to bed naked, and stayed that way in the morning. "If we were going out partying, I would always go over to her place and we would get ready together -- you know how girls are. As we would be about to leave, her Dad would just look at her, quipping: "'Remember, if you're not in bed by midnight, come home.'" "The first time I heard him say it, Dani was looking at me and just burst out laughing. 'You should see your face, Julie! You look as though someone just stuck a cucumber up your arse!' which just started her and this time her father off on another peal of laughter. "We took our A-levels, and I was just coming out of my shell. Dani organised that party and made sure to invite you. Do you remember? She kept pushing you and I together and it was a disaster! I didn't want to be pushed, and you didn't even want to be there and kept trying to get away from me." "God that night was awful," Phil laughed. "Dani had quite a reputation even at that stage, and I wanted nothing to do with her, or her friends. As far as I was concerned, you were all guilty by association. I was already at uni, and considered myself above all of that teen sex scene. I cringe when I look back and remember how I treated you. You must have thought I was an absolute shit!" "Don't fret about it", I replied. "I was just pissed off with Dani for trying to organise my life -- she didn't want to go to Uni as a virgin, and didn't think I should either. Anyway, look on the positive side. If we had have gotten together then, we would have probably ended up hating each other, and never spoken to each other again. And now I am right where I want to be, and I've got you right where I want you," I said, moving my hand down a bit and cupping his balls. I lifted my head and looked at him, and stretched up to give him a kiss. I ran my tongue along his lips, and felt his balls begin to tighten, and his cock begin to swell. As I ran my finger tips along it, I loved that delicious silky feeling that our dried juices from our earlier session had given it. "Mmmmm, later", I murmured. "If I stop now, it'll never be said, and we'll be back where we started. "So anyway, we all went off to university -- me to Oxford, Dani to Brighton, and our lives developed. I lost my virginity during one of the Summer Balls to someone with whom I had been going out for a few terms -- I guess some of Dani's influence really had rubbed off on me, because I certainly wasn't looking at him as my future husband. He was fun and a rower: the kids these days would call him ripped -- we just called him hunky. It was enjoyable, but not something that made me feel I had wasted the last three years of my life. I guess we just fucked each other -- it wasn't making love as we do. "Dani and I would meet during the vacations and catch up with what we had each been up to. She was now fully into her Sports Management and had set her sights on becoming an agent for some famous sports personality. I was reading English, and planned on doing my B.Ed as a postgraduate. We talked about our school friends, and what they were, or might be, up to. You always came up in conversation, and Dani would tell me what you were up to. When you got that Civil Engineering job in the Far East directly after graduating, she looked at me, and it was the first time I had really ever seen a sorrowful expression on her face. "'I really fucked that up, didn't I, Julie?'" "'What are you talking about?' I asked." "'Trying to push Phil down your throat at that party when we finished school.'" "'Oh bollocks,' I replied. 'I was a shy little mouse, and he had his nose in the air as though all of us had used shit for perfume! The only thing we had in common was that we were both really pissed off with you!'" "She just looked at me, and gave me a wry smile as she shook her head. 'We'll see,' she added." "Ha! I had her down for a number of things," commented Phil, "but prescience wasn't one of them!" "Quite!" I agreed, still lightly caressing Phil's cock, which was now back in resting mode. "After university, we started on our careers. Dani had joined a big sporting agency in West London; I got my first teaching job -- back up in Huddersfield. Mum and Dad had moved back there when he retired, and I thought that I would feel more comfortable in my first job teaching kids from a background that I was at least familiar with. That was a mistake! I forgot just how much things can change in 10 years or so, particularly with the economy tanking as it had. But I just got in with it -- it wasn't great, but it wasn't a disaster either. It's difficult to feel totally down when the Moors and Pennines are almost on your doorstep, and most week-ends I would take myself off there to relax." "Mum, Dad and I hadn't regained the closeness we had before we moved south: I wasn't prepared to be the 'daughter for life' that they thought I should be. I'm sure they blamed Dani, but in reality it was a mixture of everything. Mum died not long after I moved up there, and Dad only lasted a couple of years before he, too, died. He had missed Mum terribly and I think he just gave up on life. "I stayed for another couple of years at the school, and then decided that, as there was nothing to keep me there, I would look for a job down south." "One came up in south west London: I applied for it and got it. I sold the house that I had inherited from my parents, and it gave me enough that I was able to buy a small flat near the school with only a small mortgage, thank goodness, as the rates were around 15%. I doubt I'ld have been able to do anything than rent a pretty poky little place otherwise." Phil was still gently stroking my hair as I let my fingers do their own thing, fondling and caressing him. "Was that when you hooked up with Dani again?" he asked. "Yes. When she eventually got back from one of her trips where she had been baby-sitting her latest sporting prodigy, we got together. She didn't live too far away, and so we used to meet up for lunch at the week-end. One day during the holidays, I got a ticket for a really good production of 'Abigail's Party'. I suggested that, before I went into the West End, we meet for an early supper near her work. She had got into her healthy food kick, and so we went to one of those salad bar type places: they weren't nearly as popular then as they are now but she insisted she needed to detox after all her hotel living. "She told me that she had seen you when she had been in Singapore; that you were doing well; looked great; how I would really have enjoyed the life style; that there was a real need for teachers, yada-yada-yada. "As far as I was concerned, that fairy tale had died its death the evening of the party, so I just rolled my eyes, and let them roam around the room. They settled on a good looking, dark-haired guy a couple of tables away. He was smartly dressed, and had obviously just come from work: he exuded confidence and success and was with some woman. He was eating a salad of some kind -- probably the house special: a mixture of different salad leaves, pepper, fruit and beansprouts . "The woman he was with was certainly no prettier that I am, and I know I had bigger boobs. I was instantly jealous of her. He didn't seem all that committed to her, either, as his eyes were roaming round the room. Our eyes met, and I knew then and there that I wanted to go out with him, and probably get married to him. At least I determined that I was going to break the habit of a life-time and be aggressive. "Dani noticed that I wasn't paying her any attention and followed my eyes. "'For God's sake, Julie,' she said, "he's one of the contract lawyers in my company and he's a complete pillock. His name is Allan. I've had to deal with him on occasion, and now I always try and get someone else to do my legal work -- he tries it on with every female he comes into contact with.' "'Look at him: just typical. She'll soon find out there's no substance under that smarmy exterior. He just eats shoots and leaves.' "'You catty bitch,' I said, 'he obviously pissed you off, didn't he? Well, tough, I want to meet him, and I'll find out what he likes and doesn't like for myself, thank you.' "As luck (fates?) would have it, his dinner partner had gone to the ladies, and he came over to say Hi to Dani -- well, it was a convenient excuse. Whereas he had been just polite to Dani, he turned his charm on full blast when he turned to me. Dani grudgingly introduced me, and tried to cut the matter short by looking at me, and telling me I had to leave NOW or I would miss my play. "It was bullshit, of course. I had plenty of time and she knew it. Allan just ignored her, and asked what I was going to see. When I told him, he said that he was going to see it next week -- we should get together after and compare notes. "I pretended not to see the daggers in Dani's eyes, as I gave him my phone number and told him I would look forward to it. His dinner companion reappeared and they left, leaving me with a rosy glow and slightly damp knickers. "'Idiot,' spat Dani. 'I told you he was a pi...'" "'For fuck's sake, Dani, just shut up,' I spat back. 'Ever since Upper 6th, all you have done has been to ram your friends, and particularly Phil, down my throat. Now when I decide I want to make my own choice, you make bitchy comments and rant on about his eating habits. And yes, it is time that I left for the theatre.' I threw a £20 pound note on the table and stormed off." The memory made me clench my fists back into my chest in a futile attempt to protect myself against the flood of emotions that hit me. My breath caught in my throat, and came out as a series of strangled sobs. A couple of tears rolled from my eyes down onto his chest. Hardly breathing, I whispered, "I should have listened to her, shouldn't I?" I Never Heard The Comma Phil had been stroking my hair throughout. When I said that, he reached over with his other hand and caressed my shoulder. Then, like you would soothe a crying child, he very softly ran his hand down my arm to find my clenched fist. He wrapped his fingers around it. "I think that you've got the hardest words out. I know you've admitted it to yourself, but you've never said it out loud before, have you?" His words were soft and comforting. "I know what you're thinking, but we didn't start off on the right track -- and, as you said earlier, we would have probably been at each other's throats. There's no point playing games of 'What if', it'll just get us nowhere. We are who we are because of what we've done, not what we've thought. And I love you for who you are." I unwrapped my fist, and laced my fingers through his, gripping them hard. Tears of gratitude flowed as I again reached up and kissed him with as much tenderness as I could muster. "Thank you," I added meekly. I settled my head back down, still keeping Phil's fingers locked firmly with mine. "You can guess much of the rest. I'm not sure who pursued whom the most, but Allan and I got married about 18 months later. When she realised I was serious, Dani had a 'kiss and make up' session, and she told me that I had done wonders, as Allan appeared to have changed at work. I accepted her apology. As I had no relatives she agreed to give me away at the ceremony, and also to be my chief bridesmaid. "Allan wanted to leave the corporate world and go into general law in a provincial firm. He had an opportunity to join a thriving practice here in Sevenoaks, and as I was getting a bit stale at the school, I resigned and became the dutiful housewife while waiting for a local opportunity to open up. I sold my place but Allan was still renting and so had nothing to contribute. Even so, because London was so expensive compared to the 'provinces', I was able to buy a little house on a new development outright. "Life was idyllic. We settled into provincial town life. Allan was enjoying the variety of work, and doing well. One of the partners persuaded him to put his professed love of drama to practical use and join the Amateur Dramatics group in one of the local villages. He tried to persuade me to join as well, but I had had enough of seeing my beloved English and Drama crucified in school plays to even consider it. "I went once to support him when he had the lead role, but they were all so excruciatingly bad that I had to leave at the interval because I was having real difficulty suppressing my hysterical laughter. I asked the Front of House staff to let Allan know that I was suffering from a pain in my side, and I didn't want to interrupt their wonderful performance by being taken ill in the second half." Phil sniggered --he hates Am Dram almost as much as I do. I let go off his hand, and let my fingers return to one of their favourite occupations: fondling his cock and balls. "One of his little swimmers must have been faster out of the blocks than an Olympic sprinter, because I soon got pregnant. It wasn't an easy pregnancy and Allan couldn't seem to cope with my changing shape. My boobs got bigger, which he liked, but he just couldn't handle my swelling tummy. He tried to hide his growing disgust behind the usual excuses of 'not wanting to harm the baby', and 'you need your rest' but he really wasn't a very good actor! Our love life virtually stopped and never really restarted. "After David's birth, I had all the baby-raising responsibilities to myself. It was the early days of a father being actively involved in changing nappies, but as I was breast feeding, he had no reason to get up during the night. More importantly, it didn't fit his image of himself as a highly successful junior partner in a law firm, aiming for a full partnership. It was just too 'domestic'. And he made it clear that he didn't want a second child. The arrogance that Dani had recognised from the outset and which had been suppressed during our courtship was back with a vengeance. "I just threw myself into raising David, making sure that Allan's 'home' was up to his expectations and spending his money. Did I feel guilty? Not in the least. He was paying me to be his house-keeper. We only had sex when he came back from some business dinner where he had been flattered beyond any degree of reasonableness. And then it was just a 'wham-bam, not even thank-you ma'am' 2 minute fuck. He would have his climax, roll over and go to sleep, leaving me there unsatisfied and unmoved. "When David reached school age, a teaching post came up here in Pikewell and I applied. Allan wasn't keen: all of the other partners had 'stay-at-home' wives who did 'good things', but I was bored, and just ignored him. As long as the home was kept up and I was around for the rare occasions when he needed me to be, I didn't care what he thought: I needed a life of my own. Pikewell was where his Am Dram group, the 'Pikewell Players' was based; it was also the place where all those people who think they have made it live. That made my job 'acceptable'. As soon as I got the job, he put our house on the market, and found one in the 'nearly, but not-really-the-exclusive' part of the village. Moving suited me too, so I went along with it. He was far too important to bother about trivial things like applying for a mortgage -- he just told me to get on with it, and he would sign whatever was needed when I put it in front of him. After all, the other senior partners never bothered with that sort of trivia, so why should he? "He completely forgot that the previous house was in my name only, and so I just repeated that with the new one. I could afford the small mortgage from my own salary, and didn't need his input at all. He never noticed until too late. "To make up for my non-existent home life, I threw myself into school activities. I started an English club at school -- covering everything that the national curriculum didn't give us time to cover: plays and books by authors that were not required exam reading; poetry; creative writing and of course grammar. "Back then, we had to make up examples of bad grammar to show how important it can be. I paused and looked up at Phil. "If you tell me you didn't visit any porn sites when you were out on the Far East, I won't believe you. Or maybe it was so in your face on the streets that you didn't need your computer, it was there on a platter!" I smirked. He just grinned. "No Comment," he replied, tweaking my nipple and causing me to yelp. "Go on, I can't wait to hear where this is headed." I settled back with Phil's arm around me, and my head back on his chest. "So anyway, back to the grammar: now, instead of making it up, you just go to a site like Literotica. With a few very notable exceptions, any story will provide examples of bad grammar; some of them are truly awful. I've even started to use some of them at the Club." Phil spluttered. "Jeez, if that is your source, I hope you change the context a bit!" "Of course, I do, you idiot," I replied, "but with my senior lot, I bet they've done everything all already, and could even add a few details as well! "You know, it's really quite funny," I went on, digressing somewhat. "Alright, I cringe at some of the things that are written, but if the story is good, it doesn't really matter. Good grammar doesn't make a bad story good, it just makes a good story better. But you should read some of the comments that people post! "Talk about a Stasi style grammar police!! These are non-professional authors posting a story for others to enjoy, and these opinionated little Gaulieters just lump on them! What makes it so funny is that most of the criticisms have even worse grammar and spelling than the original! Pillocks..." "So, back to the story -- the English Club was up and running, I ran the school play, and with all of the marking and lesson preparation, my non-relationship with Allan didn't really matter. "During the holiday periods, I was generally acting as David's taxi service, or watching him at his various sports clubs, practising or playing in matches. I would potter around the garden and generally find different things to do. "Life carried on its usual plodding way. David finished his GCSE's and had moved into the 6th form. Never good to start with, his relationship with his father deteriorated even more when David made it clear that the last thing he was going to do at University was Law - he was more interested in the Sciences, and a practical application of it - possibly Chemical Engineering. "From that time on, the father -- son relationship ceased to exist. At meal times, both pretty much ignored to other. Allan made the odd attempt, but every time, David just fell back on the standard teenage vocabulary: a grunt for all occasions! "I think it was David's total unconcern that drove Allan to show us both that he amounted to something. He had always craved a senior partnership, but now he went all out for it. He was smarming up to the senior partners at every opportunity, pushing for his acceptance. "The 'Pikewell Players' became an important part of his self-promotion. Simon, who ran the Players, was the principal partner at the firm, and two of the other senior partners were also members. Allan saw it as a prime way to promote his cause. "If they weren't rehearsing, he told me that they were making, repairing or refurbishing the props and scenery for the next production. I know I should have been suspicious, but we really only saw each other at supper, and then we only talked generalities. "Sure, we still shared a bed, but there was no contact in it. I slept on the left -- Allan slept on the right. Plato could almost have used us for his role models! "Something happened. The Players were into dress rehearsals for yet another tedious offering, and Allan had come home late as usual, but in one of his bouncy moods. He slipped into bed and there was an edge to his smell that I couldn't place. I asked him about it." "'Oh it's just the residue of the greasepaint from the rehearsal -- you know how Simon wants us to plaster it on!' he laughed, as he reached to turn off the light. "'Allan, I produce the school plays; I do the make-up for the school plays; I know what greasepaint smells like. That is not like any greasepaint that I have come across.'" "'It wouldn't be,' Allan replied haughtily. 'Simon got some from a professional actor friend of his in the West End. He said that it has a totally different base, or something like that, and that's why it smells different -- it seems to react to a person's own sweat and smells in a way the normal stuff doesn't. We've noticed that it can smell different every time. Tonight must have been more stressful than I thought.' At that, he switched off the light and went to sleep. "The next few nights were the same. They were going all out for this production -- something about it being a 25th anniversary performance and so they really wanted to put on a 'good show'. Like the first performance, this was to be held outside: this time in Simon's large garden. It was Alan Ayckbourn's Bedroom Farce: I remember thinking that it wasn't a play that particularly suited an outside performance, but that wasn't for me to say. "They rehearsed that damned play every night for six weeks and most nights Allan would get into bed with that overlay to the 'greasepaint': usually it was the same, but sometimes it was subtly different. "An after show party had been arranged," I carried on as I stretched out, "and Allan was adamant that I accompany him: I also had to show willing and go to the performance as well. All of the other senior partners and their wives were going to be there. He told me that it was 'very important to his designs on being made a senior partner to show them how committed his family was'. "I agreed to go to the Last Night and the party. It was in walking distance, so we didn't have to worry about drinking and driving. With David still to go to University, and no doubt requiring the services of the 'Bank of Mum and Dad', it still seemed sensible to keep on good terms with Allan, despite my misgivings. "With my Walkman for company, a hat with a very large brim and dark glasses both of which I could hide behind, I went. "Needless to say it was awful. Over-made up, over-acted, over-directed, over everything. Thank God there are 300 miles between Pikewell and Scarborough: news of the debacle might not reach the great man -- although I am sure he would have probably turned it into another play! "I managed to hide under my hat, eyes generally closed, listen to some music, applaud when everyone else did and, at the final curtain, give Allan a big smile for his performance as Trevor. "The audience all filed out, leaving the 'waifs and strays' of the performers' families behind, wondering what to do next. I started talking to another couple: she was also wearing sunglasses despite the gloom. Deciding that they were also there on sufferance, I opened the conversation: "'Awful, wasn't it? I'm Julie, 'Trevor's' real life wife. The funniest thing about that performance is that I don't really think Allan understood the irony of his casting!' "'Ayckbourn is really very good, isn't he,' Richard introduced himself. 'My wife Cynthia was playing Jan, and that's another casting that seems to fit rather too well to be coincidental. Do you know if Ayckbourn spent any time around Amateur Dramatics? He certainly seems to have their characteristics down to a T!' "'This lot is so fucking pretentious! I bet they think they are going to be putting this on again at the next Scarborough festival! I'm Alison, by the way. My John is only the stage manager, thank God, but the stories he comes back with ....'" "Alison never got any further, because a beaming Simon came up to us, gushing and preening himself. "'Richard, wasn't Cynthia marvellous tonight -- she is so talented, we are so lucky to have her. And Julie! At last Allan has persuaded you to attend one of our little soirees! Now that you have seen that you have nothing to fear from us, I do hope we shall see a lot, lot more of you! But come on in and join us for some drinks and some anniversary cake that Tricia baked for the occasion.' "With that he turned, and, with barely a nod in Alison's direction, strutted off towards the house. "'Arsehole,' Alison commented loudly to Simon's retreating back. "'Is he always so rude?' I asked. "'Ha,' she said. 'He daren't talk to me in case I reply: he's learnt from bitter experience that I'm not afraid to tell him exactly what I think of them all and their performances. He'ld love to get rid of John, but until the Council permit someone else to handle all the lighting and the electrics, he's stuck with him -- and me! And so he ignores me, and I just smirk at him, knowing that he knows exactly what I'm thinking. "'Needless to say, I won't be joining you inside. I'm off.' She turned towards the garden gate, but suddenly turned back to me. 'A quick word of advice. Keep a close eye on your drink: they're not above spiking it.' "'What's that about?' I asked Richard. "'I have no idea,' he replied, 'I don't often come to these things myself, so I have no idea. Alison certainly seems to have it in for Simon, though, so maybe she's just trying to spook us. I suppose we'd better go in -- Simon's not above sending out the sheepdogs to round up his flock, and I don't feel like getting my heels nipped!' "We went and joined the others. Mindful of Alison's advice, I poured myself a glass of wine straight from the bottle, and held it close. We hadn't been noticed yet, and I had a chance to look around at the throng. There were some individual conversations, but for the most part they were all crowded around, and fawning, over Simon, I thought that 'herd' was a more appropriate collective noun: flock identified with dumb animals, and as most of them were professionals, they could hardly be thought of as dumb. I took a sip of my drink and almost immediately snorted it back out through my nose. Perhaps Richard had been alluding to a vicar presiding over his flock of parishioners! The image was just too much to keep silent, and as I wondered who the poor 'choir boys' might be, the flock turned as one towards me, wondering if they had missed one of Simon's jokes. "'Sorry,' I gasped as Allan marched up to me. 'I've only just got one of this evening's jokes. I was so overwhelmed by your performance, that some of the double-entendres escaped me at the time. Allan, you really were quite breath-taking up there: you've certainly made great strides since the last time I saw you on the stage -- I think all of you have. Well done!' "Allan was immediately mollified and almost glowed. 'Why, thank you, Julie,' he gushed. 'I told you we had improved, but I have to say tonight was one of our best. You'll have to come more often now you can see how good we are. Not quite West End material yet, but nearly there! Join us, and maybe we can teach you one or two things for your school plays,' he added. "Having snorted my drink once already that evening, doing it again so soon would not have been appropriate, but God, it took some keeping down. Alison had been spot on -- they really thought they were that good!" Phil's chuckle had started deep in his belly and had swelled through his chest to emerge as a great guffaw into my hair as his whole body shook. "It's a damn good job I haven't got a drink in my hand," he laughed. "You would have got very wet!" He paused and then asked somewhat nervously, "You were being ironic, I hope?" I lifted my head and gave him the stare I reserve for a student who has just been totally stupid. I gave his balls a quick squeeze as well, just to reinforce the point. "Sorry," he muttered, going red, "but seriously, did he not get it?" "What do you think?" I scoffed. "He lapped it up. Anyway, I put on a bright smile, and told Allan to introduce me to everyone. Some I knew from our Saturday evening dinner parties, but there were quite a few that I didn't. "By the time we got round to Richard and Cynthia, I had come to the conclusion that, without exception, the 'Players' were total dorks. Their partners were generally OK, but some were so sycophantic, that old Larson cartoon about Rudolph being a brown nosed reindeer came to mind. "We started chatting, and Allan and Cynthia almost immediately starting discussing the performance -- or more exactly, the other actors' performances. Will (who had played Nick) came in for real bitchy comments. As they got more and more into their back-stabbing, my nose started to twitch: it had started picking up the 'greasepaint' smell, but this time with much stronger overtones." "I remembered Allan's comments about the way this new greasepaint reacted to a person's emotions, and assumed that, as they were getting so excited again, the reaction was getting stronger." I paused. "Don't look at me like that!" I snarled, staring towards Phil's feet under the duvet -- all the while going red. He didn't even try to pretend: he just laughed and kept schtum. "I may be good at acting, and at being ironic: I just wasn't good at seeing the blindingly bloody obvious. OK?" Phil stroked my hair. "One of the things I love about you," he said, "is that you are so straightforward and trusting. If I didn't know better, I would call you naïve, but you aren't -- you just want to see the good in people. "Don't ever change. Please?" he asked with love coating every syllable. "I promise you, you'll never have to worry about me. Being with you is just so relaxing. I don't have to think about every word before I open my mouth. After all those years out in the Far east when you had to be so careful that no one 'lost face', I don't think you fully understand how much that means to me." I Never Heard The Comma For answer, I gently sucked his right nipple into my mouth, and swept my tongue softly back and forth. His cock started to grow under my hand, but we both knew that this story had to be finished. I let him go, and laid my ear on the wet spot on his breast and continued. "'But I thought you were all tremendous,' I gushed. 'It was such an ....' I paused, trying to find the right word, 'educational performance. I have never seen it acted that way before, and it really made me think. Where on earth did you come you up with that approach? It was quite, quite unique! "Cynthia swelled so much I thought she would burst. She looked hard at Allan and said 'Well Simon takes most of the credit, of course, but some of the things were my idea, weren't they Allan?' "Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Richard looking slightly askance at that, but he was obviously too well trained to say anything. "'Amazing,' I said. 'Simon had better look out, hadn't he Allan? I think we had better go and warn him that someone is after his place as Director' I laughed: Cynthia gave me a very concerned look. 'Oh! There he is now. Cynthia, Richard, we'll catch up later, but now I want to find out where all these other ideas came from. "I dragged a stunned Allan with me. I'm not sure he could cope with this display of outright enthusiasm! "Simon saw us coming, and held out his arms to welcome us. Maybe the vicar analogy wasn't so far off, I thought. 'Julie, Allan! I can't tell you how good to have both of you here at one of our little 'après show celebrations'! And, Julie, I do so hope it won't be the last! I meant what I said outside. It would do Allan's standing in the firm no harm at all if the partners were to see such family support.' "Allan looked at me with an 'I told you so' expression. "'Did you enjoy this evening? What did you think of our humble offering?' "I was damned if I was going to let him intimidate me with that glare. 'Well, as I was telling Cynthia, I have never seen such a performance before -- and I have seen the Bedroom Farce a few times over the years. It really was quite ... educational, yes, that was the word I used. I learnt quite a few things tonight!' I couldn't stop myself from teasing him. 'Cynthia told me that some of the ideas were hers,' I mentally pumped my fist as his eyes hooded, and his expression flashed angrily. 'But she said that the real direction came from you: she would never have thought those things without your initial guidance.' "'You want sycophantic, Allan?', I thought to myself, 'I can do sycophancy with bells AND knobs on!' "Simon's expression resumed its habitual superior look. 'What can I say, Julie? When I realised we had to do the play for the anniversary, I talked to George -- he's one of my West End actor friends, by the way -- and we both agreed that there was just too much "Yorkshire" in the play: we felt it needed a more up to date treatment to reflect the way we all live down here in the South. Maybe I overestimated the sophistication of our audience, because I don't think they gave it the acclaim it deserved, but I thought it was a perfect allegory for our current lifestyle. Don't you agree, Julie?' his stare daring me to argue with him. "Allan's expression was priceless -- I wish I could have captured it on camera. It told me that his whole future, not just in the Players, but in his firm, was dependent on my answer. "'Oh absolutely, Simon! I mean, having Nick being so stereotypically gay rather than just plain ill, was just a masterstroke. That would never have gone down well in Scarborough! And that was just one of the changes! No, if it was allegory of the Pikewell lifecycle that you were after, I would say you got it absolutely spot on! "'But how did you get your actors to adapt to the new approach? I know Allan has seen the usual interpretation, because we both saw the same performance years and years ago when we first met. I imagine some of the others must have seen it as well. This was quite a change!' "Simon preened himself. 'Oh, it wasn't easy -- you're right about that! It was why we had so many rehearsals! Once I had explained the premise to the cast, and we had been through lots of role-playing sessions without reference to the script, it all seemed to fall into place! I'm really very excited by it. George was very taken by the direction and wants to discuss it with an agent or two in London.' "I wanted to throw up in the nearest potted plant, but just about managed to keep a straight face. "Simon continued. 'You are very perceptive, Julie -- as I say, not many others have appreciated my approach, but I can see that you understand it all. I really shouldn't be surprised, should I? I know that you produce the school plays -- so you, of all people, will have the vision to look at totally different points of view! Mind you, I don't suppose you could put that particular performance on in school!' he smirked. "'Seriously, I want you to consider joining the Players in some capacity. I would love to work with you on the Direction side, and see if we can come up with some new twists to otherwise relatively staid classics. I am sure we could do something with Abigail's Party that would knock peoples' socks off!! "'And with so many senior partners in the firm as members, it could do no harm to Allan's chances of promotion to the top table if you were to be co-Director. We will start work on our Christmas production soon, and it would be wonderful to have you on board for that. Think about it,' he finished. "I looked at Allan, and then back at Simon. 'Well, if tonight's production was anything to go by, it would certainly be an interesting experience to see first-hand how such unique ideas were carried through to production! School plays don't give too much scope!' I chuckled. "'But seriously, you are going to have to let me sit this one out: the term leading up to Christmas is just too busy for me at school. I have to look after the 6th Form review, the Lower School Christmas play, and I have just found out that I will be the Acting Head of the department, as our current Head has had to take time out because her mother is seriously ill. With all of that, and my normal teaching load, I just cannot commit any time to the Players.' "Simon nodded his head. 'I had heard about Martha's mother -- I'm sorry about that, but, if you have to work, we should congratulate you for being promoted to step into her shoes!' "God, he was a smarmy, condescending git!" I confided to Phil in an aside. "'I understand,' Simon said. 'Sit this next one out -- I'll explain to the others that you have other obligations that you cannot get out of. It's enough that you are considering it.' "He turned to Allan. 'I'll see you on Monday, there are things we need to discuss. Now I must go and see to my other guests.' "Simon turned back to me, and rather than offering me his hand, he pulled me into a hug, and, as he gave me a rather wet kiss on the cheek, he dropped his hands and squeezed my arse. My head jerked back in shock, but before I could say anything he was gone. "'Did you see that?' I almost shouted at Allan. "'Oh, don't fret, that's just the way he behaves with the people that he likes. You need to take it as a compliment', he continued, brushing off the whole thing. 'I'm on my way to the top table! You heard him. Everything I have worked for is paying off at last. I said you needed to get involved, but you wouldn't believe me! But now that you're here, and Simon knows you'll be on board............... Oh, how we'll celebrate when we get home!!' "He was like a dog with two tails, and he just couldn't wait to get back home to wag one of them in my direction! As soon as he reasonably could, he dragged me out or there, marched me back to our house, and upstairs to the bedroom. "It was almost rape." I shuddered at the memory. "He tore my dress off, threw me on the bed, stripped his clothes off, and while I was wondering why he wasn't wearing any underwear, lunged on top of me. He pushed my knickers aside and thrust himself into me. It was Pikewell Caveman at his most rampant, literally -- I couldn't remember him being this hard for a long time, and that's probably why it hurt so much. He was usually so inept, that it didn't matter whether I was wet or not, but this time, he was so obviously full of himself and his thoughts of being an alpha male, that the testosterone levels had gone through the roof. "'Shit, Allan,' I yelled. 'You might at least warm me up a little before you act all He-man like.' "He was so full of his own self-importance, he didn't hear, or at least acknowledge, me. He just ploughed me and ploughed on. Fortunately, his stamina was just as pathetic as ever, and before I knew it, he shot his load into me. He rolled off me. "'Senior partner, Julie! I told you I would make it,' he crowed, staring at the ceiling. 'YES!' And with that he fell asleep and started snoring. "I really didn't know what to make of it at all. I had been left, not just high and dry, but dumb-founded and dessicated. Even by his usual efforts, this was pretty damned abysmal. My mind was hopping all over the place. Gallows humour kicked in, and I thought that if you ever wanted to catch Allan 'in flagrente', you would need a bloody high speed camera to do it. More cynical thoughts followed. "'The bastard really is just using me.' I realised. 'Well, at least he had been honest about that!' "I got out of bed. Stepping over my torn dress and grabbing my robe, I went down to the sitting room. A large glass of Armagnac in hand, I curled up in the armchair and started thinking. "After a while, I calmed down. I realised the evening and his performance hadn't really changed anything -- at least for the immediate future. Allan was still being a complete dick-head, but now I saw that he always would be: putting his own career above anything else, and just using me as a means to an end. I hadn't a clue what would happen when he finally achieved his goal -- probably ignore me completely, or treat me as his slave. "I got angrier and angrier. If tonight had been an indication of his future attitude, he may well end up sharing the Top Table with his actor pals, but he certainly wouldn't be sharing my bed much longer. It was at that point that all of the inertia that had kept from doing anything earlier in our marriage disintegrated. I decided that I wasn't going to be treated like that and if he thought he could, he would be in for an unpleasant surprise. "I fell back on the advice that I had pounded into David over the years, 'Don't waste your energy worrying about what may or may not happen in the future. If you can, and want to, influence the future, do so: if not, stop worrying, because you'll only give yourself an ulcer.' "'Yes,' I thought, 'I could probably have some influence on the outcome, but the real question is: do I want to?' For the immediate future, though, I still needed to get David to, and through, University, and if that meant that I had to use Allan for my ends, then that's what I would do. Resolving to find out the following day just where I stood with regard to the house, and any claim that Allan might try to make on it, I went back to bed and the snoring wanna-be Casanova." Phil and I shuffled around a bit in bed, easing the pressure points in hips and bums. "Sure you want me to go on?" I asked, as I looked at Phil from the crook of his elbow. "Oh carry on," he replied, smiling. "Your English lessons must be quite enthralling if this is an example of your story-telling!" I looked at him, trying to work out if he meant it, or was just being sarcastic. "Mmmm..." "The next few months just shot past. Allan and I carried on our non-relationship and, truth be told, only really saw each other at weekends. Allan was heavily into his rehearsals, and I could tell when they started in earnest because the 'Player-specific' smell of greasepaint was back -- this time with a few more different overtones. "I hadn't lied to Simon about the Christmas term workload, and my week-end leisure time was non-existent. "David started his final year at school, and although he and I chatted together when we could, he seemed more distant than usual. I put it down to the looming A-levels, and didn't push it. His relationship with his father had gone from cold to Arctic, and he always found some excuse to leave the room whenever Allan walked in -- even to the extent of bolting his meals whenever we all sat down together and dashing out with some excuse or other. "At the beginning of December, Allan announced that Simon was holding a special party after their Christmas performance: it was to be a 'Noughties Party' in honour of the decade that was about to come to a close, and had specifically asked that I be there. 'Simon has had his secretary check the school diary: he knows about the final Lower School performance, so he accepts you won't be at ours, but then he says that there's nothing else on and so he won't take any excuse for your non-appearance. "'Also,' Allan continued, 'the Firm will be announcing their business plans for the New Year shortly after, and I know that they are looking to expand next year. So you need to be there with me to remind Simon that we are committed as a family. "Hearing that my usual escape routes had been blocked, I had no real choice but to agree. I couldn't see many benefits of creating a scene and refusing, so I went along with it. "The weekend before the party, I asked Allan what the dress code was. You know how I always fall foul of the fashion police on my staff at school, so I needed time to prepare. "'Something a bit risqué,' Allan replied. 'We have to make our mark,' he grinned. 'I heard Simon say that although it was a Noughties party, it should be interpreted as being spelt with an 'a' not an 'o'!' How about that white boob tube and those pink hot pants you wore to that 70's themed fancy dress party the school parents' association organised a few years back?' "'For goodness sake, Allan! That was nearly 10 years ago -- I'll never fit in those pants and, if I remember, you were practically drooling over my tits all evening.' "'Exactly,' he said with a lascivious grin. 'Just the thing! Simon and all the other partners will love it. More brownie points! Anyway, I'll bet you that's quite conservative compared to some of the things that they and their wives will be wearing.' "Alarm bells started going off in my head, and Allan could see from my eyes that I was looking for a way out. "'Oh no, Julie. You promised. No getting out of it now -- even if your maiden aunt is on her death bed! Which she can't be, as I know you haven't got one! Once you get a drink or two in you, you'll be fine -- Cynthia was telling me that she has got the recipe for a great punch from an old college friend, and apparently, it's a real ice breaker.' "'What are you wearing, then?' I asked, taking a hit of the whisky I had poured myself. "'Oh I thought I'ld wear a kilt -- then if people ask what does a Scotsman wear under his kilt, I can show them!' "I spluttered. 'If you do that, I'm definitely leaving! It's bad enough having to go as some 70's tart without having to cope with you being some brazen hussy as well. Are you really sure I have to go? -- I do have a reputation at school to think of you know!' "'Yes, you do have to go,' he almost shouted. 'And I know for a fact that a couple of your school governors are going to be there enjoying themselves, so you've nothing to worry about on that score -- you never know, it might even add another dimension,' he smirked. "My eyebrows hit the roof at that one -- not that I knew many of the governors at that stage, but I couldn't help but wonder just what I was getting let in for, particularly given the tone in which he delivered that last remark. "The evening came. David had gone out first thing in the morning. He had given me an odd look as he left, just saying that he would probably be staying the night at a friend's house. Before I had time to ask him who, he slammed the front door and was off. "I spent as long as I could on my make-up -- Allan kept pestering me, and telling me that we were going to be late. When I finally joined him downstairs, he looked at me as though he was appraising some side of beef at the butchers. No 'You look great, darling!' or 'Fantastic, let's go and have some fun'. All I got was: 'I thought the 70's was the era of burnt bras and letting tits hang free -- you would look much more authentic for the times if you took your bra off.' "'Allan, there is a fucking limit to what I am going to do for this party,' I replied angrily. 'Now, if you really want me to "hang free" as you so charmingly put it, I am not going to ruin this top with mascara and lipstick when I take it off, so I will first have to take all my make-up off, then take off my top and bra, then put the top back on, and then take the time and trouble to put back on all this eye-liner and eye-shadow. Then we can be really late -- even to the point of being past fashionably late. Would that make you feel more authentic?' "'Christ, Julie, I was only joking,' he stuttered, although the look in his eye gave the lie to that. 'You look fine -- I'll get your coat, and we'll get going.' "As we walked up the road, Allan seemed determined to lighten the mood: he started telling me some of the more amusing stories about his clients and what they had been up to, and how they needed to be rescued. It struck me that we hadn't talked like that for ages -- almost since we had first started dating. When he was in that sort of mood, he really was very likeable and as we walked up the path to Simon's front door, my foul mood had evaporated, and I was giving myself a good talking to about just enjoying myself, and having a fun time. "Amelia, Simon's wife, opened the door. 'Julie, how lovely to see you -- and your Twiggy outfit looks wonderful.' I mean, Phil, look at me -- I know I'm not super endowed but even wearing a bra, I've got more than Twiggy ever had. How on earth could she get it so wrong?" Phil chuckled, cupped my boob and confirmed that the handful he had was certainly nothing like the thimbleful that he would have had if he had ever had the chance of cupping Twiggy's. "If you move just a bit, I should check the other one as well -- I mean, we need to make sure they are a matching pair, don't you think?" "You know perfectly well that they match -- you can't keep your hands off them!" I replied. "Anyway, it soon became clear that Amelia's thoughts were elsewhere, because as Allan followed me through the door, she threw her arms around him. 'Daaaarling, I'm so glad you've come, it's been aaaaages since I've seen you.' "'And to come as a Scotsman -- I didn't realise you had clan connections,' she gushed. "'Oh yes,' Allan replied, trying to disentangle himself from her arms under my less than enthusiastic glare. 'The connection goes back ages -- the old castle still stands in the Borders, although we don't go to the ceilidhs as often as we used to.' "This was news to me -- I had never heard of any castle in the borders, let alone any ceilidhs or even a Clan, for that matter. "'Well, it looks fantastic on you -- don't you think Julie? And, Allan, you have to tell me, is it true about what Scotsmen wear under their kilt?' "I groaned, and with a glare that had descended even further down the thermometer, let Allan know that his response would dictate whether he was solo or accompanied for the rest of the evening. "'I don't know what you know, Amelia,' he chuckled, 'but you'll just have to carry on wondering, won't you. Now, where's the drink -- it's cold out there, and I'm sure that Julie would welcome a drink to warm up with.'