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A Real Love

By: scotjock1



Nyomi didn't know what to do, she had been stupid to trust her husband Carl would not cheat on her for a third time now. Upon discovering his infidelity, she fled her own home and turned to the only man who had ever warned her from marrying Carl, her best friend Mark.

The two had been friends since College, and now almost thirty years of age they had been friends until three months ago, when Carl had cheated on her for the second time in their marriage Nyomi had forgiven him.

Mark told her, if she wanted to repeat this routine for the rest of her life he could not bear to watch her doing it, and broke his friendship with her.

The reason however for this, was that Mark had been hiding his feelings for Nyomi since their College years.

Sadly fearing it would destroy their friendship, he never told her his true feelings for her and watching her marry Carl, and seeing her cheated on by him was too much for Mark to bear.

Now she stood outside of his apartment, unsure if her arrival at his door would upset him or if he'd even open the door to her.

Her beautiful dark, brown skin shimmered in the light of the street lamp outside Mark's building, as she wore a pair of blue jeans, and a grey blouse.

Her dark black hair was combed, and cascaded over her shoulders.

"God what am I doing? He won't even open the door to me, if he sees it's me."

Nyomi said with a sigh, swinging her arm in frustration.

The waiting was worse than the actual outcome, and so in frustration with tears in her eyes she fought back, she walked up to his front door and pressed the doorbell.

Fighting back tears, she tried to put on a brave face.

The door soon opened, and Mark stood there. Changed somewhat from the last time she saw her friend, he was a changed man.

No longer clean-shaven, but with a thick black beard and short hair he stood looking at her in a pair of jogging bottoms, and a t-shirt.

"Nyomi..."

Was all Mark could say in his strong Scottish accent.

"Mark."

There was an uncomfortable silence between them both.

"Can I come in, please? I want to talk."

Mark sighed, and nodded walking inside his apartment followed in tow by Nyomi behind.

She closed the door behind her, and followed Mark into his front room where the television and couch was.

Mark had been half-way through a microwave meal, of curry and rice on the coffee table in it's container.

Mark was single, and had been for a while and so he didn't have a luxury of a cooked meal often.

He made some space on the couch for Nyomi, and sat down as she sat next to him.

"It's been a while, since we last spoke."

Mark said gently.

"It has."

Nyomi said gently clasping her fingers together on her knees.

"So what made you come here?"

Nyomi said, bringing her hands to her face.

"He did it again, he cheated on me again. The third time now."

Mark sighed, standing from the couch.

"I'm not going to be your sob-pillow again Nyomi, only for you to go back to that fucker again."

Mark said defensively.

"Mark please, I need you."

Nyomi said in tears.

"For you to go back to him again? No! I am not going to be there for you, to go back to that prick again."

Mark was angry, infuriated but he would never harm Nyomi. 

He loved her, he always had loved her.

"I'm not going to be here for you, for you only to go and run back to Carl."

Nyomi was at her wits end, Mark was always her best friend and he was literally telling her he was not going to support her again.

"Please Mark you're all I have!"

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Every time! Every fucking time he's done this to you, I was there. I am not some fucking pillow to run to, I'm not just there for you to cry to!"

Nyomi looked up at him with wet eyes.

"What does that have anything to do with us as friends?"

"Because it's all I've ever been with you! Friends, never more than that!"

Mark wanted to punch a wall, a mirror to let out his frustration at the only woman he had and still did still love, being so far away from him in life.

"You marry Carl, and you look past the one fucking guy. The one guy, who was always there for you Nyomi, all for another cheat of a man!"

Nyomi was crying.

"I don't understand any of this, you never told me anything of how you truly felt about me not now, not even at College."

Mark sighed, calming himself.

"Because I didn't want to lose you as a friend, Nyomi."

It all made sense to her now, Mark never approved of any man Nyomi dated. Not in some possessive way, but in a manner that spoke of him struggling with feelings of his own for her. Mark never approved of Carl, even claiming he was never good enough for her. Because in his mind, he was the one he so wished to be with her.

Nyomi looked up at her oldest male friend, and sighed.

"You've wanted me, to be with me as far back as College?"

Mark laughed half-heartedly.

"Was it so hard to see?"

Nyomi stood.

"I should go."

Mark sighed, and breathed in deeply.

"Go on then, run back to that sleaze of a man who cheats on you with any woman he sees fit. You're worth more than that, and you know it, but you've never acknowledged it."

Nyomi was breathing hard herself, the revelations turning her mind.

Nyomi was about to leave Mark's home, but he took her hand.

"Tell me, truly tell me. Is it so absurd, to think of me as more than just that friend at College?"

Nyomi brushed his hand away.

"I can't deal with this right now."

Nyomi ran to the door, yanking it open and running out into the night air as the door closed behind her.

She saw him watching her, from his lounge through the window and her heart was skipping more beats than an MRI machine in a hospital.

She turned, and walked home to face Carl. 

In her mind, she'd rather face Carl than face the feelings Mark had for her.

The Next Day, 6:30pm, Nyomi's House

Nyomi had been packing her things for an hour or more, basic clothes and such in a suitcase to take to her mother's house in Birmingham where she planned to stay for the foreseeable future.

Carl was out, at least she hoped he wouldn't be back until she had left.

The sound of the front door opening, and closing signalled that Carl had returned home sooner than she had hoped.

"Oh no."

She said in a whisper to herself during her packing.

She tried to shove what was remaining of her clothing into the suitcase, but Carl walked into the bedroom catching her in the act.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

He demanded of her.

"I'm going to my mother's in Birmingham, this third time is the last straw for me."

With shaking hands she closed her suitcase.

Carl stood there in his jeans, and shirt anger clear on his face.

"You think you're leaving me?"

Nyomi had tears in her eyes, standing in front of her cheating husband in a long black skirt, and blouse.

"I gave you no reason to cheat on me, Carl. Never, not once. I was a good wife, a good lover. I did my best, and you threw it away for another woman, three women in fact."

Nyomi attempted to push past Carl in the doorway, holding her suitcase. 

Carl lashed out, grabbing Nyomi by her long black hair.

"You married me, you married this as well."

Nyomi screamed in pain, as he pulled on her hair.

Unknown to the pair, Mark had come to the house to apologise to Nyomi for last night and how he threw his feelings at her, and put unnecessary pressure on her. It wasn't by magic he was on his way to see her, he had been pondering the choice to see her and make things right with his best friend. He had attempted to call her, but Nyomi hadn't answered any of his calls or texts.

He had even brought her some flowers, thinking she would appreciate the gesture.

As he approached the front door of the two-storey house, Mark her Nyomi screaming from inside.

"Carl please, you can't stop me from leaving!"

Mark heard every word, since their bedroom was near the front door of the property but on the second floor of the property.

Inside Carl was forcing Nyomi against their cupboard, in their bedroom.

"You never leave me, you married me for life and I decide on who I fuck or be with but you will always be here. Waiting for your loving husband."

The taunt was painful for her to bear, this wasn't a marriage but a forced-unison.

"You never loved me."

Carl tightened his hold of her hair, making her wince and Nyomi's legs went weak.

Crash!

The front door of the house was kicked in, Nyomi and Carl both heard it from upstairs.

"Nyomi!"

A rough, harsh Scottish voice called.

There was the sound of an individual running up the stairs, and Carl looked to their open bedroom as Mark stumbled inside wearing his jeans and a hooded-jumper.

Carl looked at Mark, only ever meeting him once or twice at the wedding and afterwards.

He never liked Mark, sensing that he had feelings for Nyomi himself.

"Let her go."

Carl grunted in anger, at the intrusion of his own home.

"This is my house. Leave!"

But Mark didn't move an inch from the doorway.

"Mark."

It was a whisper from Nyomi, looking at him with glassy eyes.

The man who was always there for her, and she never noticed. A bear of a man, with a thick beard staring at Carl as if he was the monster of the world.

"A real big man, ain't you? Beating on your own fucking wife, after she discovers you cheated on her again."

Mark slowly entered the room, staring across at Carl with pure revulsion.

"Stay out of this, she's my wife!"

Carl retorted in a grunt.

"And that gives you a fucking reason to hurt her? She's never hurt you, nor ever cheated on you. What gives you the fucking right to lay your hands on her?"

Carl released Nyomi's hair, and she slid down the cupboard to her knees crying.

"Get out of my house, now!"

Carl shouted, breathing hard and shaking.

"Make me, ya' cunt."

Carl rounded on Mark.

Out of the pair, Mark was calm but determined. Carl was upset, not thinking straight. His anger fuelling him, and his actions.

"If you want a fair fight pal, I'm right here."

The challenge was clear from Mark's mouth, and Carl was the type of man to be goaded into a fight just like this one.

"A big man, let's see if you can take a fair fight with someone."

Mark clenched his fists, staring at Carl.

Carl lunged for Mark enraged, but Mark side-stepped his charge and turned to punch him in his ribs.

Carl collapsed to the floor, clutching his side spitting in anger at being embarrassed.

Nyomi watched the two square off, Carl turning getting onto his feet to look back at Mark who was now stood in front of Nyomi on the floor.

"If ya' want to lay your hands on this woman again, you're going to go through me first. If I'm still fucking standing, I will never back down to protect this woman."

Carl lunged once again, charging for Mark.

Mark didn't move and as Carl came at him, he brought his foot up landing it on Carl's chest sending him flying backwards into the wall of the room.

Mark unzipped his hooded-jumper, wearing a plain black t-shirt beneath it and Nyomi saw the muscular chest beneath it, the broad shoulders he had worked on since they last really saw one another.

"Get your stuff Nyomi, on your feet. You're leaving."

Nyomi on unsteady legs got onto her feet, and retrieved her suitcase.

"She's not going anywhere."

Carl grunted in a spiteful tone, spitting blood from his mouth onto the carpet floor.

"Oh really, are you going to stop her?"

Carl was unsteady on his feet, clutching his ribs.

"Leave Carl, because there is only one way you're getting to her. Over my dead fucking body."

Carl saw an intensity that Nyomi also noticed in Mark's eyes. Conviction, determination. He was willing to fight for her, even be hurt for her.

"You crazy Scottish bastard!"

Carl spat.

Mark simply smiled.

"You're not the first person to call me that, but I can prove it correct if you'd like me to."

Another threat, laced with passion as he stood in Carl's way to get to Nyomi.

Carl slowly stepped aside, and Mark took Nyomi's hand and walked her past an out-of-breath Carl from the bedroom and down the stairs.

Nyomi saw the bouquet of flowers on the floor of the corridor, as they walked past it out of the house.

He bought them for me. Nyomi realised.

"Where are you going?"

Mark asked her gently.

"Train station, I am going to my mother's in Birmingham."

Mark nodded, in his mind he wished it was otherwise but he cared for Nyomi over his own wants.

"I'll take you to the train station, get you on that train."

Nyomi didn't say anything, and nodded feeling safe. Safe for the first time in her life, a feeling she had felt at a level of friendship with Mark. But now there was something more there.

Mark called a black cab, and it took them to Euston train station in Central London.

Throughout the whole transfer to the station, Mark said nothing but she sensed he wanted to say a great many things to her before she left.

At the station wrapped up in a large coat against the winter weather, she looked at Mark with his grizzled beard and luring hazel eyes.

He smiled at her.

"Your train is boarding."

The Scottish man she had befriended in College in Manchester was about to say goodbye to her, and she feared she'd never see him again in her life.

"Mark-."

Mark cut her off gently with his hand.

"Get on that train, forget about him and move on with your life Nyomi. You deserve happiness in your life."

Nyomi was crying, and gently pressed her head to Mark's chest as he embraced her with his arms resting his own cheeks on her forehead.

"I never knew, I am so sorry Mark."

Kissing her forehead, he whispered into her ear.

"I love you Nyomi, I should have told you. I left it too late."

The pair were watched by those in the station, looking like a couple saying their goodbyes. People truly oblivious to what the two had gone through together.

Nyomi noticed scars on his wrists, and knuckles. But they were not fresh, they were healing and old. She wondered what he had been through in those three months since she had last spoken to him in person.

A message was called from the station speakers, the train bound for Birmingham was ready to leave in mere minutes.

They embraced, her feeling his heart beat in his chest against her cheek.

"I've dreamt of holding you like this, for almost half of my adult life."

He whispered to her.

Their bodies twirling slowly as they held one another, Nyomi pleading in her own mind to tell him she could love him. His heartbeat made her own heart skip a beat.

"Your mother is waiting, Nyomi."

He said gently, but fighting against his own judgement to break their embrace.

Mark saw the tears in her eyes, and gently with his thumb rubbed their away from her dark cheeks.

Nyomi hadn't released her grip of Mark's waist.

"Mark-."

He gently kissed her once, on the lips and the kiss was electric for Nyomi. 

Feelings she hadn't felt in years, surging through her body, heart and mind in a flurry of speed.

"Goodbye, Nyomi."

Gently he slipped her hands from his waist, and held them in his.

As if her body was hard-wired, she gently turned to the platform archway where her train waited.

Slowly she took small steps towards the platform, pulling her suitcase with her on its wheels.

She turned to glance over her shoulder, seeing Mark standing there.

His hair brown, but his beard in the light of the day brown and copper red covering his entire jaw and face.

A bear, but a loving bear with her as he always had been with her since they had become friends.

Mark was struggling to hold back, from running to her as he clenched his fists in the pockets of his hooded-jumper staring back at her in the busy terminal.

He was tall, she had never noticed before.

He was built, rugged, broad shoulder like a disciplined sentry on guard watching her forcing his emotions down, to stop his own tears of regret.

Her hands were clammy, moist from sweat as she struggled to walk the short distance to the platform as she looked at Mark over her shoulder.

Minutes later she was on the train, alone at a table cradling her face and crying.

Mark was struggling to leave the station, but found the courage to walk to her platform and watch the train pull out of the station.

All the while, unaware Nyomi could see him from her window seat.

"Mark."

Was all she could say to herself, alone at the table watching him.

And she was soon gone, bound for Birmingham.

*****

All feedback is appreciated, I want to gauge how people found this story to see if I can continue this series if the right people want it.

A Real Love Ch. 02



A Year Later, Birmingham

Nyomi was looking at her mobile phone in hand, in her mother's home. Since leaving London, and filing for divorce from Carl her life had become better for her.

A new job in Birmingham, still single for obvious reasons. She didn't want to go through the same pain and anguish as Carl had put her through.

But every day for the last year, she continued to look at Mark's phone number in her contact book thinking of everything that had transpired a year ago.

How a man she had known since she was eighteen had confessed to being in love with her since the day they had met, had hidden his feelings for her for the sake of their friendship only to save her from the hands of her abusive husband.

A year on, Mark hadn't sent her a single text or called her.

Nyomi assumed he was doing that, to give her space, to allow her to move on with her life.

But it only made her think more of him in the last twelve months, clutching at her phone thinking of him in London, if he was even still living there.

Her new job was fulfilling, working as a secretary to a local school in Birmingham handling administration and paperwork.

But she continued to think of Mark, every minute of every day at her mother's home.

It was this day, she finally had enough of the waiting.

Dialling his number for the first time in a year, she waited hoping the line was still active and he hadn't changed his number.

The thought of that frightened her, to lose him for good if he chose to change his number and rid himself of hers.

She couldn't blame him if he had, the years of hiding his true feelings for her must have been painful to bear.

The call rang, and her hopes faded just as a voice answered her.

"Hello?"

A distinct, Scottish accent clear through her phone's speakers.

Mark's voice.

"Mark?"

The voice on the other end shook, and quivered as if her voice hit his nerves.

"Nyomi."

Nyomi lay on her bed in her bedroom, in her mother's home wearing a pair of loose pink PJ bottoms, and a matching top.

"It's been a long time."

Nyomi said gently, smiling.

"It has. How are things up there, at your mother's?"

Nyomi laid back on her bed, grinning.

"Good, I got a new job up here at a school. Pays the bills I guess."

Mark laughed.

"How about you?"

She asked him.

He said nothing for a moment, and then spoke.

"Good, I'm working around the city."

"Doing what?"

Nyomi could hear him laughing.

"I'm a bouncer, and a security guard as a day job. I was doing it when you left."

Nyomi's smile was gone.

"The bruises, cuts on your knuckles. From work?"

"Yeah, a few fights and scrapes here and there. I've added a few more to the collection, since you left."

The thought made Nyomi shiver, at the thought of Mark being hurt or injured.

"Is it dangerous?"

Mark grunted.

"Well the company send me to places, that are let's say are viper's dens. Some ugly looking pubs and clubs in South-London. Some people don't take too kindly to a new bouncer on their local boozer."

Nyomi breathed hard, as she felt her tummy quiver.

"You're not getting yourself too hurt, I hope?" Mark laughed on the other end of the line.

"I throw as many punches as they throw at me, Nyomi."

Nyomi coughed.

"I don't mean it like that, I just don't want you getting hurt Mark."

Mark felt uncomfortable, as it sounded to him Nyomi was concerned for him.

"I've survived worse."

"Eventually the worse may come along, you told me that once at College."

Mark went quiet.

"Yeah well, maybe the worse has already come along."

Nyomi sat up in her bed concerned, butterflies in her tummy.

"What do you mean, Mark?"

Mark went quiet, coughing as if to mask something he truly wanted to say to her.

"It's nothing."

"Mark, don't lie to me. What happened?"

Nyomi asked concerned, sitting up against the head of the bed clutching the phone to her ear.

A few moments passed, and Nyomi feared Mark would not answer her question.

"I was stabbed about a month ago, at some groggy South-London club called Aces. I am alright though."

Nyomi didn't believe him.

"Mark, did you go to hospital?"

Mark sighed.

"Yeah, I was officially dead for about sixty seconds before they revived me in the ambulance."

The sudden revelation made Nyomi feel as if she was going to have a heart-attack.

"Jesus Mark, you could have died!"

Nyomi screeched down the phone like a concerned wife, or partner would.

"But I didn't and—"

But now it was Nyomi's turn to cut him off.

"But you could have, Mark!"

A silence ensued, as the two were breathing down the phone to one another uncomfortably.

"How's work?"

He asked.

Nyomi grunted.

"Stop trying to change the fucking subject, Mark. This job could get you killed."

"But it's a job, Nyomi. I should count myself lucky I even have one of those nowadays in London today."

Nyomi couldn't stand hearing this from him, him of all people. But she contained herself, she couldn't lose him if he decided to just hang up and walk away from her altogether.

"So are you seeing anyone?"

She couldn't stop the question leaving her lips, and she wondered if she would regret it.

There was a silence, and she feared the worst. Mark had met someone.

"No, the job has kept me busy down here. No one wants to date a human dart-board sadly. How about you, I'm sure you had someone after you the moment you started working at the school."

Mark said laughing gently.

"Some, but I turned them down."

Mark grunted, as if he was feeling uncomfortable himself for some unknown reason.

"Mark, I was wondering. Do you want to come up, and we could meet. Here in Birmingham. For a drink, or something. I feel like I haven't seen you in years."

The silence was staggering, again she wanted to bite her lip for asking such a foolish question.

"Yes."

The answer was immediate, as if no thought went into his decision.

Nyomi's stomach felt close to busting, as if the butterflies inside were fighting to be free.

"When are you free?"

"Tomorrow, I can get off work if you can Nyomi."

It was so sudden, did she have time to prepare for her first meeting with Mark in a year?

"I want to see you, as soon as we can do it."

Mark added, and it only made Nyomi breath so low she felt as if she couldn't breath.

"Yes, tomorrow is good for me. Can you get the first train up in the morning? I could meet you at Birmingham station at midday."

"Done."

Mark said breathing hard himself down the phone line.

Nyomi smiled.

The rest of the call was simply talking about work, and life after she left London.

By the time she ended their call, she was wet and breathing as if hadn't breathed fresh air in years.

His voice had done all of this to her, without even actually seeing him yet.

Putting down her phone, Nyomi was shaking and had to shower to clean herself.

The Next Day, Birmingham Train Station, 11:47pm

Throughout the morning, Mark and Nyomi exchanged texts about the time the train would arrive.

Prior to leaving her mother's house, Nyomi was stumped in what to wear to meet Mark.

Her mother had told her to dress as she felt, and for the first time she decided to dress to impress.

It had been a year since she last saw Mark, the day he had found her and took her away from Carl's hands.

To her Mark deserved to be surprised for once, with her.

Nyomi wore a short black skirt, and shirt under a blouse with black tights and a ankle boots but wore a long coat as it was now cold October. 

She had combed her hair, it was shorter now no longer reaching her shoulders but just above them, and had it braided for the occasion.

Standing at the platform she knew Mark's train would be coming into, she was shaking and feeling out of breath once more.

Her hands were clammy inside her coat pockets.

She dreaded it, but also revered it seeing him again.

The train pulled into its platform. 

Shaking she watched people disembark from the train, business workers and those living in Birmingham walking out of the platform.

Her eyes searched for him, and in the deepest part of her mind she feared Mark would not even show.

Perhaps he had lied, that he didn't want to see her and this was all a ruse to make her feel like he had for so many years.

Missed opportunities.

As the passengers thinned out, she was about to look away when she saw a thick mass of black hair, and its accompanying copper red beard come into view.

He was wearing a hooded-jumper in grey, and a pair of baggy jeans. But he was there, walking out of the platform.

Her heart skipped a thousand beats in that moment, seeing him spot her and walk towards her as if it were all just a dream.

He smiled under the thick beard he had grown out, still looking as rugged as the day she had last seen him.

She smiled back, and gently pushed a braid from her face shyly.

He was broader than before, his thick chest and shoulders barely hidden by his jumper.

He was standing in front of her, the pair of them breathing and both with clammy hands.

"You look... stunning Nyomi."

His accent made her wane, and she stood her ground.

"You look so handsome."

The pair gently laughed.

Slowly they moved closer to one another, and embraced.

The same feeling Nyomi had felt in Euston station a year ago returned, laying her head to his chest again feeling his heartbeat.

"I never thought I'd see you again."

She whispered.

"Me neither."

Tears flowed, as she pressed her cheek to his chest.

"Hey, it's alright. I'm here now."

He whispered back, feeling her tears on his chest.

"Don't you ever leave me again, ever."

She said in a low whimper.

"Never Nyomi."

He said gently stoking her cheek with his hand.

The embrace was watched by those going to their trains, or disembarking appearing like a reunion of lovers to most people.

"We better get out of here, we've got an audience."

Nyomi cried tears of joy, and laughed gently.

Slowly they broke their embrace, and hand in hand they walked out of the station together.

They walked into the centre of the city, where Nyomi had picked out a nice bar for them to have a drink together.

Nyomi found a table, as Mark went to get their drinks from the bar ordering himself a bottle of Lager and for her a glass of Red Wine.

Slowly she slid her coat from her shoulders, and put it behind her on the chair.

She noticed some stares from some men in the bar, but only wanted Mark to look at her as he came over with the drinks.

She noticed how taut his arms were, and how muscular his chest was beneath his jumper.

He placed her glass of wine in front of her, and took a deep mouthful of his Lager.

One man passing the table took a good look at Nyomi, but Mark glared at him making the man briskly walk passed the table and out of the bar.

"You look beautiful."

Mark said smiling under his beard, looking at her.

"I didn't know how to dress for our first meeting in so long."

Mark grinned.

"Wear anything you want, as long as it's you I met today I don't care."

Nyomi shyly smiled sipping her wine.

A momentary silence ensued, but Nyomi was not wasting this moment with a man she had craved, loved for so long since she last saw him. He could disappear at any moment from her life again, if she wasn't careful.

"How long have you had feelings for me, Mark? I mean tell me when."

Mark was gently touching his bottle of Lager, touching the beads of condensation on the glass.

"Since the day I met you in our studies class, when we became friends. I wanted you then, I still do."

He looked up, like a predator looking at something he truly wanted.

His dark hazel eyes piercing her own, and her heart.

Breathing hard, and shaking she spoke on.

"And those feelings still persist?"

"Every minute of every day they persist, I dream of you. I think of you. I yearn for you Nyomi. I want you Nyomi."

Shaking like a leaf, she felt close to falling from her chair.

"Why didn't you call me, after I left?"

She asked looking up facing him, his eyes on hers.

"A new life, I couldn't without feeling the guilt of it get in the way of that for you here. You needed a fresh start, from anything associated with your life in London. Both me and Carl."

Nyomi gently turned her glass on the table.

"I needed a fresh start from Carl, not you Mark."

Mark nodded, stroking his beer bottle.

"I should have contacted you, but you know me. How I am. In thinking I was doing something good for you, I did the exact opposite."

Nyomi playfully turned her glass more.

"You didn't hurt me, I hurt you for all of those years."

Mark stiffened in his chair slightly.

"its life, you never noticed and I couldn't blame you. I never told you how I felt about you. Had I done, perhaps some things would have been different."

Silence grew.

"So you never met anyone in London?"

Nyomi asked shyly.

"Who wants to be with a man who gets cut up, and beaten up for a living? Not many."

He answered her, drinking his Lager.

"I do."

Mark looked deep into her eyes, his hazel eyes distracted her.

"What about you, at the school? What men did you turn away?"

Sipping her wine she spoke.

"A few, mostly teachers or school staff. But after Carl, I couldn't risk the pain. But the pain was already there, with you gone." 

Mark nodded.

"Why was it so hard, when I left?"

Nyomi twirled her glass in her hands.

"Because the day I left, at that station with you there was the day I realised the man I loved was always there from the start. I just never noticed, and that was my own fault. When the man I could always love, leaves me to start a new life I was left wondering for the last year. Clutching at dreams, and thoughts as you had for so long. It's been playing on my mind, my heart for so long looking at your number on my phone. Remembering your face, it was hard."

Mark grunted, and nodded as if uncomfortable at her realisation.

"What about you, what was it like for so many years watching me? Not having me?"

Mark looked up, those god damn beautiful eyes and thick beard in front of her.

"Hell, is the best way I can describe it. Not having you, not touching you, not showing you I could be the man you wanted in your life. Carl, Michael, Terry. All of them, were never good enough for you. It tore my heart apart when you married Carl. I dreamt of you, fantasised about you. But when you chose him, I knew you were gone. You loved him, and I couldn't get in the way of you both. It would have been wrong if I had done. It was pure abyss I was in for so many years, thinking of you."

The revelation, his words, his voice made her shiver in her chair.

Mark took the chance to gulp down the remainder of the Lager in his bottle, and put it down on the table.

"And the past year, was it hard for you?"

She asked.

Mark said nothing, but looked into her eyes and nodded.

His stare, told her everything.

The pain he was in, the state he felt he was in with her. He had endured it for years, and she only for the last year.

Nyomi drank down her wine in two mouthfuls, and stood.

"Let's go."

Mark nodded, and stood zipping up his hooded-jumper once more as Nyomi put her coat back on.

They left the bar, and walked holding hands into the centre of town together and as they passed a quiet side-road Nyomi pulled Mark down it and pushed him against the stone wall of a building.

She pressed her lips against his, and they kissed deeply as Mark's hands roamed her back and under her coat to feel the short skirt she wore.

"I love you Mark."

She whispered nuzzling his neck, and face.

She felt it, it was bound to happen.

The feeling of his tent, bulge pressed against her she knew the man lusted after her for so many years. She regretted never noticing, and seeing what was always in front of her.

He kissed her neck, nuzzling her collarbone and moving up to kiss along her jaw to her lips. His thick beard tickling her skin, prickling her soft dark skin.

They were lost in bliss, lust as Nyomi's hand found the belt of Mark's jeans and undid it before unzipping his jeans to slide her hand inside to feel his thick, fat cock in her delicate hands.

They moved, Mark turning Nyomi to be pressed to the wall and her kissing her as her hand furiously stroked his member in his jeans.

"Don't you ever fucking leave me, ever? Promise me?"

Nyomi gasped, using her other hand to stroke Mark's cheek as they looked into one another's eyes.

"I promise you, Nyomi."

He said inches from her face, his dark hazel eyes and her own brown eyes entranced to one another.

"Sir, ma'am?"

A voice called, the pair looked to their rear and saw a big Police officer, and a female officer at his side looking at one another.

The pair laughed, lost in pleasure.

"I think there are better places for that sort of thing."

He said winking at them, as they saw a small crowd of people watching them from the main road.

Nyomi quickly buckled his belt, and zipped his jeans closed.

"Yes officer, we are sorry. We'll move on, find a hotel."

Mark said grinning like a Cheshire cat in happy guilt.

The two of them left the quiet side-road and walked along the main road, with the group watching them as they left.

They held hands tightly leaving together.

*****

All feedback is appreciated, leave a comment.



A Real Love Ch. 03



The pair of them walked hand in hand to a local Travelodge Hotel in the centre of Birmingham, where Nyomi had booked a room for them both the night before when Mark had decided to come down.

He didn't know this, because she wanted to surprise him. They went to the nearby bar next door to the hotel, and ordered drinks together.

They were sat next one another in a small cubicle, and Mark's hands were up and down Nyomi's nylon clad legs as she rubbed his bulge through his jeans, only stopping when someone spotted their groping.

Nyomi wasn't skinny, but quite voluptuous with big hips, thighs and bottom.

Nyomi often received criticisms from Carl, about losing weight but Mark seemed to revel in her buxom size. 

"Was it sexual, your attraction to me?"

She asked him sipping another glass of wine.

Mark nodded.

"What did you imagine, doing with me Mark?"

Her hands were on his knees now as they looked into one another's eyes.

"You could never imagine it."

He said laughing gently.

"Let me imagine it, if I had seen how you truly felt about me the ideas, and thoughts may have enticed me."

Mark coughed, feeling as if he had a piece of lead piping in his jeans.

"Well, remember that night we went clubbing with Sarah and Tommy. You were wearing that long black dress, and leather jacket over it. You had stockings on I think, and some cute little heels. I wanted to ask you to dance, I really did. But then that guy from our Studies class came over to you, and asked you to dance. Ryan I think his name was, and you went to the dance floor with him. He got the opportunity to hold you, to dance with you. I would have given anything for that chance."

Mark said laughing at his last words.

"But Sarah was interested in you, big Scottish lad. She liked you from the first moment she met you, she wanted to dance with you. But you refused."

Mark nodded.

"It's because I wanted you Nyomi, she figured that out a few weeks later I think and gave up on pursuing me."

Nyomi noticed a slow love ballad playing in the bar, and what looked to be a space on near the bar that could serve as a dance floor if used.

"Well, there's a first time for everything today I think. Come on, dance with me."

Mark smiled.

"Nyomi the bar is empty, people will watch."

Nyomi grabbed his arm.

"Let them watch, you're gonna dance with me. Your first real dance with me."

The pair smiled, and walked over to the dance floor.

Nyomi wrapped her arms around Mark, and they swayed to Beyonce's 1+1 song that played in the bar.

"You are so fucking handsome, I never noticed. I was so stupid."

The pair swayed together.

"I'm not much to look at Nyomi, I don't blame you for not noticing."

Mark said gently, shyly laughing.

She pulled Mark closer, and looked up into his eyes.

"You are much to look at Mark, I was stupid to not notice. You are a handsome, beautiful man."

Mark nodded, as they danced.

Nyomi noticed how close he held her, how he nuzzled her neck and breathed in her scent. 

She noticed then, how much it must have truly hurt him when she danced with Ryan back in College that night. 

How it had killed him, to not simply tell her he loved her and asked her for the dance.

She noticed Mark wore clothing to hide the few scars, and scrapes he had earned working as a bouncer. 

She nuzzled his neck back, and kissed his rough skin.

"Mark, put your hands where you wanted to put them that night had we danced."

Mark's hands had stayed on her lower back since they began to dance together, and slowly he dropped them down to her hips and held her closer to his waist.

"I'm going to put my hands, where I've dreamt of putting them for the past year."

She whispered grinning.

Slowly her hands moved from his back to his bottom, and she squeezed it as they moved together.

Mark's hands slid down her waist and gripped her buttocks through her skirt, and Nyomi gasped at the feeling of his rough hands.

"What did you dream of doing to me, that night at the club?"

She asked him purring as she felt his hands squeeze her firm, thick buttocks.

Mark was shaking, staring into her eyes as he squeezed her.

"Pushing my hands inside your dress, feeling you."

Nyomi clenched her eyes shut at his words, and moaned.

"Push them up my skirt, now."

"Nyomi?"

Mark asked, voicing concern for doing this in a public place after being warded off by the Police in the street.

"I don't care, you are all that matters to me. This past year, all I wanted was you and you're here. Sod who watches us. Put your hands inside my skirt, and feel me."

Mark's hands shook, but he slowly slipped them under the hem of her short skirt, and inside to feel the nylon pantyhose she wore on her legs and bottom.

Nyomi pressed her head to Mark's neck, and gasped fighting back the urge to collapse into his arms.

"More."

She purred.

Mark squeezed her buttocks, and spread them gently to feel she wore a pair of panties clenched to her skin.

Mark slid his fingers between her inner thighs, and rubbed her vagina through the nylons gently.

Nyomi convulsed, gripping Mark in her hands to stop from falling to her knees in sensations.

"Mark, did you dream of-of fucking me a lot?"

Nyomi asked gasping between each word.

"Every minute, every day I dreamt of fucking you, and making love to you."

He whispered, kissing her earlobe as his hands rubbed her buttocks further.

"I dreamt of you, since I left. Your hands, your touch. Your cock."

Mark shook hearing her speak of his cock, and squeezed her bottom more roughly.

"Ryan only danced with me, I never took him home with me. But I am taking you with me today."

Mark squeezed her ass harder, rubbing her pussy through her tights with gusto.

"I have a room, I booked it last night in the hotel next door."

Mark smiled, kissing her in front of a bar full of patrons who were shocked at the public kissing and groping the pair were doing together.

"I left a suitcase of things I brought with me for tonight, for us in the room. Before I came to meet you at the station."

Nyomi was gasping, kissing Mark frantically on his mouth.

"Let's go to the room, Nyomi."

He said sliding his hands from inside her skirt, Nyomi retrieved her coat and they walked out of the bar hand in hand into the hotel next door.

Nyomi already had the swipe-card for the room, and they entered the elevator together.

As the doors shut Mark yanked Nyomi to him, pressing her to the wall as his hands pulled up her short skirt to expose her crotch and legs to him in nylon.

Mark had his hand pressed to her crotch, and rubbed her womanhood through the thin nylon and her panties, as he used his other hand to pin her hands above her head to the wall of the elevator. 

Nyomi kissed him passionately, sliding her tongue into his rough warm mouth allowing him to touch her.

Mark momentarily removed his hand from her crotch, to yank at the belt of his jeans to get his cock out in a rage of lust for Nyomi.

But as he undid his belt the door of the elevator opened to an empty corridor, where their room as.

Nyomi smiled, kissing him once more and pulling him from the elevator down the corridor.

They got to their room door, and Nyomi felt her skirt being hiked up once more from behind her by Mark who was pressed against her.

She didn't bother trying to get the card from her pocket, as he ground his bulge into her nylon-clad bottom pressing into her.

A few seconds passed, and Nyomi struggled to swipe the card to enter the room.

She pushed the door open, and they fell inside closing the door behind them.

Nyomi turned to face Mark, slowly walking backwards from him towards the big-double bed.

Throwing her coat aside, she was standing in front of him now wearing her black blouse, and short skirt now hiked up showing her thick, firm thighs to him.

Mark undid his belt, throwing it aside and unzipped his jeans. 

Nyomi's eyes never left his bulge, as he pulled his thick, fat white cock from his jeans and it poked out at her erect, and intimidating.

Nyomi lowered herself onto her knees in front of him submissively, and put her hands behind her back like an obedient woman.

"Come and take me."

Nyomi whispered, opening her mouth wide for him as if teasing him.

Lust-filled, Mark ran over to her and grabbed the back of her head, and slid his thick cock into her open mouth.

It was too big for Nyomi, she had never imagined he had a manhood this size. 

He was long enough, but it was the thickness that pushed her jaw to it's limits trying to fit his shaft into her mouth.

With her lips widened obscenely, she felt the bulbous cock-head hit the back of her throat making her gag.

All these years, he had loved her and he had all this time had a cock that she would never grow tired of, or not want.

He was ramming his cock in and out of her mouth, as Nyomi gripped the heels of her ankle boots for balance and resolve, looking up at him with moist eyes letting the man who always loved her take her for the very first time.

Mark was passionate, she saw it in how he moved, how he grunted, how he never took his eyes off of her own.

This was a dream for him for a long time, and a dream for her for only the past year.

Pent up lust, love, and frustration he had for her was oozing out of him in how he made her swallow his thick cock, and how tightly he held her head.

He looked like an animal caged for so many years, watching a mate of his in another cage only now released to have her.

She was his only love, his painful regret, and this was something in the making he could only have dreamed of in all their years as friends.

His cock was so large, and thick that Nyomi's lips were watering stretched around his girth, salivating at the feeling of a thick sausage wedge in her mouth.

How could he have not met anyone else? With such a loving heart, impressive manhood and personality? Nyomi pondered.

He had given up any chance with any other woman in his life, for the dream of one day perhaps having her.

And he had her now in front of him, perched on her knees sucking his manhood.

Mark grunted, pulling out of her mouth gasping for air and shaking.

He hadn't ejaculated yet, he was struggling to control himself.

Nyomi stood, and began to unbutton her blouse.

"Mark baby, undress. Take your time, I am not going anywhere. Ever. Go shower, and let me dress."

Mark wiped sweat from his beard and face, looking at her.

"Dress?"

He asked.

Nyomi smiled.

"I told you I brought things here this morning, before you arrived."

She pulled a suitcase from beneath the bed, and laid it on the sheets.

"Go undress, and shower. This is all for you tonight, and forever if it's what you've dreamt of for so long."

Mark nodded, breathing hard watching her unbutton her blouse to see the large breasts beneath in a matching top.

"Go."

She said loudly, laughing.

Mark nodded once more, undressing fully as his thick cock swung and stayed erect until he stepped into the bathroom and into the shower cubicle.

She heard him turn on the shower, and put her blouse on the bed as she pulled her top over her head and unclasped the big pink-lace bra she wore that struggled to contain her large breasts.

Eventually with her tights and heels off, fully naked now near the bed she felt her pussy with her fingers and touched moistness around her small bush.

She hadn't had time to buy anything yesterday or this morning, but had a wide range of clothing and attire she had bought since leaving London.

She had brought with her a black nightie, very short literally stopping just under her crotch and fully exposed her bottom.

Slipping it on over her head with no bra, she picked out a black pair of hip-hugging French panties.

Sitting on the bed, she retrieved a pair of black fishnet stockings from her suitcase, and slid each one in turn onto her legs.

Slipping on her ankle boots once more over her fishnet-clad feet, she zipped them up closed around her ankles and inspected herself in the mirror on the wall.

Taking her braided hair she rearranged it, and smiled at herself in the mirror.

You have him, after a long hard year he's here with you. Do not screw this up, make him your man from this night onward. She told herself in her mind, to confirm what she was about to do tonight with Mark.

Turning around, she pulled from the bag a black, silk blindfold. A pair of handcuffs and a red ball-gag she had bought months before from a sex-store in the city when she decided to explore her submissive side, thinking about Mark that day she had bought her new toys.

Looking back in the mirror she inspected herself, she was almost thirty now only a few weeks away. She had grown larger when married to Carl, becoming voluptuous in areas of her body. She felt negative about her large thighs, and bottom when she was married. Feeling she was becoming ugly being larger, it made her wish she was skinny.

But Mark had never once spoke against her figure, even when she was married. He always spoke highly of her figure, and she knew why now. He had loved her, and to him she was beautiful.

Turning around in the mirror, she saw the back of her panties hugging her thick, big, firm buttocks and smiled.

I just hope he doesn't grow tired of me, once his love for me dissipates. She thought, and became sad imagining Mark in a few months neglecting her once the candle had burnt itself out for them both.

She swung her head, getting rid of the thoughts.

"He won't do that, you know him better than any person does. He loves you, and always had. Just be with him, stupid girl."

She said to herself angrily, in a whisper and smiled feeling better.

She heard the shower turn off, and turned to look at the bathroom door waiting for her man.

With her arms to her side, she clenched her hands in anticipation hoping Mark would approve of her outfit for their first night together.

Nyomi's jaw ached, and her lips were salivating at the prospect of his big cock in her mouth once more.

He stood there, Nyomi hadn't noticed the shower was now turned off. 

He stood there staring at her, and her outfit.

He was breathing hard, Nyomi noticed his entire body tense and shake.

She knew he was fighting a surge of emotions looking at her, inspecting every inch of her thick body from head to toe in silence.

She was shy, she had no reason why since she had worn this outfit for him, to show him her body this day.

Covering her panties with her hands, she looked down at the floor twirling slowly on the spot unable to look into his deep hazel eyes.

"Are you afraid?"

He asked her in a neutral tone.

"Yes."

She said in a low whisper, her voice cracking.

"Why?"

Mark asked gently approaching her.

"I'm afraid of losing you after tonight, that this could all just be one night together and nothing more."

"No, that's not all you're afraid of. Tell me."

Mark slowly walked around her where she stood, his presence making her shudder and shake.

"I'm afraid, that I am not what you've wanted all these years Mark."

Her hands had moved to her shoulders, holding herself supportively now clenching her eyes shut.

"Is that what you're afraid of?"

His voice was in her ear, leaning in close.

His warm breath prickling her neck and earlobe.

"No."

Her voice quaked.

"Tell me."

His rough hands held her arms, and stroked her skin warmly.

"I'm afraid I won't be good enough for you, that you waited so long for me and I can only understand only a year's worth of the pain you endured."

She turned her head away from his voice, shaking as she felt his hands gently stroke her arms up and down.

"But you understand don't you? How hard it was for me?"

He was now on the other side of her head, whispering into her other ear in his rough, gruff accent.

"Yes-yes I do. The absence in my heart for you was deep."

She felt it, even in the darkness with her eyes closed she felt his thick manhood between her inner thighs nestled below her mound.

"I could have loved you, better than any other man you've ever been with. I was always there Nyomi."

"I am yours, Mark. My body, and soul forever."

She shivered, gently turning her head away from his whispers again.

"Are you afraid, that I won't want you as much as you want me now?"

The question struck her heart hard, making her quiver and sob.

"Yes, I am afraid you do not want me."

Slowly his hands left her arms, and ran down her to her wrists and held them tightly to her waist.

"I was hurt, but it never diminished how I felt about you. It made me more angry, to see you not notice me. To see me as just your friend."

The revelation killed her heart, it was skipping a thousand beats at one time. 

"You hurt me, so much Nyomi. But I could never, never stop loving you. I couldn't stop loving the woman, who I first loved."

"Mark I am so-so fucking sorry, I would never hurt you. You were there every time I needed you, I should have noticed you needed me just as much, even more."

She whispered, rubbing his rough, scarred hands and fingers.

"Are you truly ready for this? To do this?"

Nyomi opened her eyes, tears filling her eyes as she turned to Mark to face him pressed to his naked chest.

"I have been ready to have you, to be with you for this past year. I have no doubts, only regrets of not being with you sooner."

Looking down she saw how truly damaged he was, his chest covered in scars and bruises from recent shifts on the dangerous club, and bar doors in London.

Her delicate fingers tracing a scar below his collar bone, shuddering as she felt how deep the cut was.

"I'm damaged goods."

He said in an awkward, pained laugh as she felt his scars.

"I don't care. So am I."

She said giggling, tears rolling down her dark cheeks.

"You could never be damaged, you just need to repair the damages."

Looking up to his deep, frightening eyes she smiled.

"Repair it for me, and keep me. Be my man, my real love."

He was shaking and leaned in to kiss her open mouth, dissolving into pure passionate kissing sliding their tongues into one another's mouth quickly.

"Touch me."

She purred, her eyes crystal in moistness.

He smiled, and slid his hand between her legs above his own erect cock, and rubbed her mound through her panties gently making her gasp and convulse.

Gently she wrapped her delicate fingers around his shaft, and barely fit her fingers around it and began to stroke it slowly in time with Mark's own touches.

Slowly after a few moments, Nyomi slid down onto her knees onto the floor in front of Mark and his cock was inches from her face.

She held his cock, and licked the shaft slowly her eyes on his as she worked the shaft until it was slick before sliding the head of it into her mouth and closing her lips around it.

She pressed his cock to his chest upwards, and worked down the shaft until the head of his cock touched the back of her throat.

Sliding her other hand into her panties she rubbed her slit, and slid a finger inside herself feeling how wet she was for him.

"Take me."

Mark suddenly grabbed Nyomi lifting her up onto his chest, as she wrapped her thick thighs around him and they kissed one more passionately, the fever of it was intense.

Holding her up, his cock just under her ass.

He turned her back to the window of the room overlooking the busy street below, pressing her to it and her dark skin sliding up and down the glass, her back arching with every thrust and push.

He nuzzled her neck, kissing her all the way down to her collarbone.

She gasped, eyes clenched shut as the building of an orgasm surfaced in her body.

His scarred, toned, muscular chest pressed to her breasts pushing them up almost out of the confines of her nightie.




A Real Love Ch. 03



His grizzled bear prickling her skin, neck and cheeks as they kissed.

People below in the street could not see the beautiful woman pressed up against the window of the hotel room above them.

"I love you Mark."

Mark was breathing hard, as he pulled aside her panties and pushed his cock to her womanhood sliding in.

She was tight, Nyomi hadn't slept with a man since Carl and even Mark was much thicker in girth than he had been, opening her up in ways she had never felt before.

"Mark, you're so big and thick. Deeper, please!"

The screech made the room echo, but she no longer cared if Carl himself walked in on them both. 

Mark was who she wanted to be with, and she would do everything in her power to keep him.

He held her up by her ass, and slammed into her pressing her brown buttocks to the glass and parted them as he fucked her, her legs wide apart bouncing to every thrust he gave her.

She began to slip down the glass, sliding down it but Mark lifted her back up supporting her with his strong arms.

He always did this for me, supported me at the edge of abysses. Picking me up when I needed him to. Now I will pick him up, and support him in return. Nyomi thought.

His thickness inside her opened her up, juices flowed like a water fountain around him as he slid in and out of her.

They moved to the bed, Mark laying her on her back and mounting her once more ramming his rod in and out of her.

He eyes were heavy, as she licked and bit her own lip as her orgasm built inside her.

"Mark it's too much, I am going to explode!"

Mark leaned in and kissed Nyomi's lips, holding her close to him as their bodies touched and the moistness of their skin touched.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she came exploding around his rod buried inside her. Her juices flowed around them both, down her legs and his onto the bed as he continued to pound into her.

She convulsed, shaking in his arms kissing him with closed eyes.

Her eyes were heavy, laden with tears smiling up at her lover as he held her. 

She noticed his thick-set arms, holding her hips, his tree-trunk sized muscular thighs spreading her legs open for him, and his double-barrelled chest hovering above her.

He was stunning, beautiful, just looking into his hazel eyes made Nyomi wet again.

She gently touched his cheek, as he slammed his cock inside her and she kissed him tenderly on the lips.

"Cum for me Mark. Cum inside me, make me yours."

Mark smiled.

"I feel like my balls, my entire body is on fire. I've never felt this way, I dreamt of this for so long."

Nyomi kissed him again.

"I came honey, now it's your turn."

Mark was tingling, his entire body went haywire at her touch and kiss and he grunted clenching his fists, and grinding his teeth as he came exploding inside Nyomi's womb.

Mark on shaking knees, sat up and Nyomi gently touched his chest making him moan.

"I dreamt of this for an entire year, Mark."

Gently touching his thick chest hair, she traced another scar of his above his belly button.

Sliding out of her womanhood, he stroked his cock a few times to spurt his semen onto her vagina, and thighs.

Slowly he turned and collapsed at her side on the bed, and she turned to face him entwining their hands together.

"You're so beautiful."

Mark said smiling, stroking her cheek with his hand.

"You're one to talk."

Nyomi giggled.

"And you thought I'd not want you as much as you wanted me, I think we've crossed that point don't you?"

Mark grinned.

Nyomi suddenly saddened and sighed, gently touching his scars again.

"What's wrong?"

Nyomi looked up shyly at Mark.

"You'll be leaving again, to go back to London. Then it will be a long-distance relationship, and we both now have strained things can be in relationships like that."

Mark kissed her on the lips.

"I'm not going back for a few days, I want to spend this time with you. After that, we could discuss things. I have my SIA license, for security work and it works all over the UK. I can come and work in Birmingham, and we could make things work between us."

Nyomi was ecstatic, choking back tears they kissed and she agreed.

Hours passed, some were sleeping together cuddling and others were more passionate sex together.

Nyomi woke at about 8pm in the hotel room, to find Mark mounting her from behind with her on her hands and knees, taking his thick cock inside her from behind.

Her buttocks smacking and clapping from the powerful thrusts he gave, before he ejaculated inside her and they lay together once more on the bed.

Hours passed, as they cradled each other.



The Next Day, 8am, Travelodge Hotel, Birmingham City Centre



They slept for most of the night, occasionally waking to kiss and talk.

By 7am, the pair of them woke, showered and dressed making their way downstairs to have breakfast that was included in the hotel room reservation.

The eating area was not too busy, with some guests eating quietly.

Mark was wearing his hooded-jumper again, and jeans as Nyomi changed into a long flowing black dress, and purple blouse. 

The pair held hands as they picked from the breakfast buffet their chosen foods, filling their plates with bacon, eggs, sausage, and toast and pouring themselves Coffee.

Sitting down together in a booth, they ate across from each other.

"So last night was amazing."

Nyomi said grinning, cutting a sausage into pieces.

"It was perfect."

Mark said grinning, drinking his Coffee.

"So what do we do now?"

Mark smiled.

"Well I'm here for a few days to see you, we could make the most of it and spend it together."

Nyomi's tummy was stirring with butterflies again.

"So what do you have in mind?"

Mark was eating a slice of toast and spoke.

"Let's go to the park first, see what we can do after that together."

Nyomi smiled.

"Sure. I think we could find some things to do in the empty parts of the park."

Mark shivered, and he felt his hard-on returning.

Nyomi's mobile phone rang, she pulled it from her coat pocket and saw the number.

It was Carl, he hadn't stopped pestering her even after the divorce was finalised.

"It's Carl."

Nyomi said uncertain looking at Mark.

His smile was gone, the mention of her ex-husband saddened him.

She knew why, that he feared enough pressure from Carl would convince her to go back to him in London.

It would never happen, but he feared it regardless.

"I know, I knew he wouldn't let you go."

Mark's face was a shroud, his eyes emotionless.

He sighed, and stood to walk over to get more Coffee from the buffet table.

"Mark wait, I am yours. I don't care about him."

But Mark was already pouring himself another Coffee, hanging his head low in pain.

She answered Carl's call angrily.

"What do you want?"

She spat down the line, impassioned to get rid of Carl for good and be with Mark forever.

"You think I would let you go after the divorce? You know you'll come running back to me, so stop fucking around and come back. Who else will love you, you're a fat whale of a woman that should count herself lucky to have me willing to wait this long for you."

Nyomi looked at Mark, his head hung low as he buttered another slice of toast at the breakfast table.

"A man who always loved me, and he warned me about you. I never listened to him, but he's here now. Mark is here, and he and I are together. That's the man who wants me, he always wanted me. Goodbye Carl."

Carl began to spout abusive curses at Nyomi until she ended the call, and put her phone away.

Mark quietly returned to their table, head hung low as he drank his Coffee not meeting Nyomi's gaze.

"He's gone now, I told Carl to leave me alone. Again."

Mark said nothing, his eyes sad and dull.

"Yeah right, give it time he'll wear you down again and you'll go back to him."

His tone pained, and awkward.

Mark couldn't meet her gaze.

She couldn't lose him, bear to see him like this.

She slid her hands over to cradle his own in hers, and forced him to look into his eyes.

"No, you don't understand. I know it's you, it was always you I needed. I will not lose you."

The phone rang again on the table, Carl's name and number appeared on the screen.

Mark saw it, and sighed standing from the table and walking towards the exit of the hotel.

"Mark!"

She called after him, as other guests watched.

Mark zipped his hooded-jumper closed, walking down the pavement of the street as Nyomi chased after him.

"Please! It's over, he tries calling me every day but I never answer him!"

There were tears in Mark's eyes, his copper-red beard shining in the morning light.

"Why didn't you get rid of his number, do anything to rid yourself of him. You kept it, I can't trust you won't run back to him!"

Mark was breathing hard, his muscular arms tense, and shaking.

"Goodbye Nyomi."

He turned and began to walk away back towards the train station.

"No! Not again! I can't lose you! Please don't leave me!"

Mark was walking ahead faster, as Nyomi felt a fresh wave of tears roll down her dark cheeks watching him leave her.

She knew if he got on that train, he would never answer another call or text from her ever again and she'd lose him.

Her suitcase was still in the hotel room, and she still had the room until 3pm. 

She didn't care about it at that moment, she cared about losing Mark.

In front of spectators who had overheard her screaming after him watched as she chased him, the pair entering a busy shopping area where people passed through to go to work and such.

He attempted to walk faster ahead of her, but Nyomi felt a surge to catch up with him. 

In the middle of the busy, populated street she grabbed Mark's arm and pulled him to face her.

His face was red, moist with tears and he was shaking.

"Don't!"

He shouted at her, struggling with an overload of emotions.

"Don't leave me please! I'll change my number, everything!"

Mark sighed.

"You could have done that and you didn't."

Nyomi felt a surge of pride, of control and spoke.

"If I did, you would never have been able to contact me. It was why I kept this number, in the hopes of the past year you would call me. I would have lost your number, had I changed my number, my phone. All of it, I can let it go now because you're here."

Mark pushed away tears.

"I loved you, for so fucking long and to see you still talking to him after everything he did to you. I can't do this, I knew it was too good to be true I had you."

Mark stifled and turned to walk away.

"No, not again! You walked out of my life a year ago, and I've spent that year dreaming, wishing for you to come back and you're here! No I won't let you go, not again!"

People saw how upset Nyomi was, tears streaming down her face and her body shaking as emotions flowed freely inside her body.

Mark saw everyone watching her and him, including a trio of Police officers watching assuming this was a domestic incident unfolding.

"Nyomi, I should leave. People are watching, I left you a year ago to allow you to move on and live your life. I should never have agreed to come."

Slap!

The strike was sharp, a slap across his face by Nyomi's hand.

People gasped, in shock at the slap.

She was shaking, breathing hard, even feeling as if she was sick to her guts.

"Don't ever say that again! Yesterday was the best day of my shitty life, seeing you there, back in my life. The greatest thing I ever did was agree to meet you, because I love you so much Mark. More than any other man in my life. And I don't care if the fucking Queen herself was watching us right now, I would not let you leave without showing you how much I love you."

A crimson bruise began to appear on his pale cheeks, beneath his beard.

Taking her handbag from her shoulder, she opened it with tears in her eyes and weeping silently she pulled what looked to be a frayed, old photograph.

She shoved it in his face, with a shaking hand clutching the photograph.

"I kept it, a picture you may not remember. When we were in Manchester studying, we were outside the city for the day and we went hiking. Do you remember, in the Peak District? It was the middle of November, we went against everyone's advice and climbed that big mountain with Sarah and Rachel. We almost got lost in the snow, in the wind and I almost fell from a steep ledge, and you caught me. The fall would have seriously fucking injured me, I could have died even but you grabbed me and hauled me back onto the ledge. It was not just you catching me, it was that it was cold enough to freeze without proper clothing or protection and yet you-you gave me your big coat. With just a hooded-jumper you kept me close, freezing in the snow yourself to give me your coat. I never noticed, but Rachel and Sarah did. They told me when we were alone, no man would have done that! No man they ever knew, but you did it for me. They said you had feelings for me, that you were so deeply concerned for me that it had to have been love. I didn't believe them."

Nyomi's hand was shaking, as a large crowd of people watched them. Some assuming this was a spousal argument, others thinking filming for a romantic film were under-way. But there were no cameras.

"Until that day, in Euston station. I found the photograph that they took of you and me in the mountain. The way you were holding me in it, your arms around me. The concern on your face, look at it. The way you are looking at me."

Mark didn't take the photograph but looked down at it, with fraying edges he saw the distinctive photograph of the two of them in the snow, in the mountain together.

A picture he had hoped Nyomi would never give a second thought of looking at again, and noticing it.

Because it was Nyomi's flush face, forcing a smile but clearly cold with him holding her close. But he wasn't looking at the camera.

He was looking at Nyomi, concerned for her as she shivered in his coat.

"Look at it, for me Mark."

Her hand was shaking as she held it out for him to continue to look at.

He wasn't smiling in the picture, his face, his eyes looking down at Nyomi at his side. The look of concern etched across his face and features, the damning evidence.

"You loved me, even then. The way you pulled me up from the ledge, the way you held me close for hours as you shivered in the cold. I told you to take your coat back after an hour, but you wouldn't listen. The fucking way you're holding me close, that's not just friendship is it? It's fucking love! You took me home that night, and made sure I was kept warm, you made sure the heating was on in my flat. You put me to bed do you remember? You never let go of my hands that night, worrying over me about pneumonia. I never noticed, but I did after I left London. For a year I looked at this photograph every day, noticing everything. Your worrisome look. That moment you couldn't contain or hide your feelings any longer was in this picture. You love me, and I love you for this moment. For the moments like this we can still have together. No man ever cared this much for me, Carl would happily see me freeze on a cold January morning than give me his coat, waiting for me to ask him for it. He never showed concern or love for me."

Some of the gathered spectators were whispering to each other, some commenting that this was one of the most heart-breaking moments they had seen a couple show in a public place.

Others thought a film was being filmed, that cameras were hidden or something to capture the true nature of the moment.

One or two were even recording the hear-breaking moment on their cameras, not out of malice but a need to record something so pure, so heart-wrenching.

"Tell me you did not care about me that day, in the mountain? Tell me that when I fell ill from colds, flu's and stomach bugs that you didn't really love me when you cared for me. Fucking tell me that after all these years, you could not stand me marrying Carl because you wished it was us marrying!"

Mark was shaking, tears in his eyes rolling down into his beard and down his cheeks as he saw the officers watching us, unsure of how to approach the pair.

"Tell me! If you really want to leave me forever, then tell me you never loved me in those moments we've had. Because I sure as hell know I love you for them now, and wish I had fucking seen the signs even then."

Nyomi's shaking hand clutching the photograph slowly dropped to her side, and she was crying heavily tears running down her cheeks, dropping onto her blouse.

"Please."

It was a whisper from her lips that those gathered had only barely heard.

The words made Mark shake, and roughly wipe his face free of tears.

"You mean everything to me, Mark. You're the man I am meant to be with, and to marry. I can only ever apologize for hurting you those years, and try to amend for that."

She slowly approached Mark, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Carl means nothing to me, I divorced him with hopes, dreams of you marrying me. Twelve years of pain for you, and a year for me. We've had enough pain for once, we both deserve to have what we've been dreaming of don't we?"

With the photograph clutched in her hand she took Mark's hands, as he tried to look away from her brown eyes.

"No more dreaming, we've both done enough of that. Let's just have what we've wanted for so long together."

Pulling Mark close by his neck, she pressed her face to the crane of his neck crying and kissing his neck.

Mark's hands wrapped around her, pulling her close into a warm hold, a protective one.

Spectators watched, some gasping and some whispering.

"I will never leave you Nyomi, I am so sorry for saying I would. I was angry and—"

Nyomi cut his words off with a deep kiss on his mouth, and looked into his eyes as she gently wiped tears from his eyes.

"I know, I felt like you this past year. Every emotion, and feeling you felt for twelve years I've felt it. No more scaring me, please. Don't leave me."

It was a whisper, their faces inches from one another.

"I am truly in love with you Mark, never think I don't."

Mark smiled and with his thumb in front of dozens of spectators, wiped her tears away.

"I love you Nyomi."

She smiled, and they held each other as whispers and gasps were exchanged around them.

They were oblivious, not caring if the entire world watched them that moment. It was them, and them alone that mattered.

A real love unearthed after long years of pain for Mark, and discovering that love Nyomi felt the pain and absence he felt.

She loved him more than words could ever explain, and she would never ask him to explain his love for her.

She could never hope to understand the deepest levels of his love for her, but she could embrace it.



(All feedback is appreciated, leave a comment please.)



A Real Love Story



This is a true story and all the events actually happened as described.

Every word of this story is true, exactly as it happened. Even though it took place years ago I remember the details as if it were yesterday.

This story begins many years ago when I was 24 years old and in my second year of medical school in Philadelphia. It was a very difficult time to meet females. This was before computer dating and since I had to devote most of my time to study, I had very little time and opportunity to meet members of the opposite sex.

Saturday night was my night to go looking. This particular night, fate brought me to a local bar where singles congregated. I tend to be more of a passive observer of life rather than an active participant. In a word, I was an introvert. Not the least bit outgoing, I was at the opposite end of the spectrum from "The life of the party." I was never comfortable approaching a strange woman and striking up a conversation. Once it was started, I had no problems but just that initial approach was difficult for me.

Years later I still had that problem. I was dating a psychologist, nothing serious, and asked her what a good opening line would be. 

"Something really clever" I said.

She said "You don't need anything clever. Most guys don't have anything clever to say. You'r a good looking guy, just start a conversation."

"It's just not that easy" I replied.

She said "OK, lets have a little experiment. Lets go to a pickup bar, go in separately, you stay close to me and listen to what guys say when they hit on me."

I said "Hey, that sounds like fun. I might learn some clever lines. Lets do it."

I listened as she was approached by numerous guys who, much to my disappointment, came up to her and pretty much said "How are you doing?" 

Afterwards, in an analysis of the evening, I said "So that's it. All they say is "How are you doing?"

She said "No, that's too formal. They don't say "How are you doing." "They slur it and make into one word like "Haayadoin." 

I said sceptically that's it, "Haayadoin?"

She said "That's it. That's all you have to say. Just try it out. If a woman is interested, she will answer back and you'll be on your way."

I was still skeptical but I said, "OK, I'll give it a try." 

The next time I saw a good looking woman sitting by herself at a bar, I sat down beside her and when she turned to see who just sat down, I smiled and said "Haayadoin?"

To my amazement, she responded in kind, smiled at me, and the hook was set the conversation was started and I reeled her in with ease.

I thought "Wow, all these years of trying to think of some clever approach, and that's all it took!"

But I digress. Since it was years before I acquired the afore mentioned magical phrase, I was just standing at the edge of the dance floor, observing the various life forms as was my usual practice. My attention was especially drawn to a particularly attractive, slim, animated female who always seemed surrounded by a group of admirers, both male and female. She was obviously an alpha female and the life of the party. Certainly not someone who was approachable by me, especially since I had not yet learned the magical greeting phrase. As my gaze wandered around the floor, looking for a female at the opposite end of the greek alphabet who might actually be approachable, suddenly there was the alpha female right in front of me, actually saying something to me!

I looked around to see if it was me she was really talking to or just talking through me at some alpha male standing behind me. When I realized she was talking to me, I stupidly said "What?"

She just smiled and said "Would you like to dance?"

A line from an old joke "Wood eye, wood eye" ran through my mind but I managed to say "Sure." "You bet" was not a popular phrase at the time.

It was a slow dance and when I had her in my arms, I realized she was thin, but not too thin, tall, but not too tall and very good looking with small features, perfect teeth, black hair cut short and blue eyes. In short, she was like a high performance sports car, good looking and built for speed. That night, I was in a zone with my bon mots, charm and wit flowing off my tongue effortlessly. She brought out the best in me even though we were clearly opposites. She was totally extroverted. She was the yin to my yang. Maybe opposites really do attract. At the risk of sounding immodest, she seemed attracted to me as well. 

At the end of the evening, when I asked if I could give her a ride home, Chickie (her real name was Pat) said her girlfriend drove and she would tell her that I would take her home. As I got to know her, I found out it was her modus operandi not to drive, so that if she met a guy, she could leave with him. It turns out she lived not far from the bar, on a fairly busy street. I parked in front of her house, wondering if I should chance an attempt at a goodnight kiss, when she moved over to me, started kissing me and rubbing herself up against me.

She said "Please do me a favor and make me cum. I have to have an orgasm every night or I can't sleep."

Never in my young life had I encountered a female who was this straight forward and forthcoming! You have to remember, this was back in a time before females asked men to dance and before females really talked honestly to men about sex and a date was classified in baseball terms such as getting to first base, second base, etc. Here was a woman inviting me, practically a lifetime singles hitter, to home plate even before I knew the game had started! In any event, I quickly complied and slipped my hand under her skirt, and inside her panties which were already soaked from anticipation. I proceeded to play with her and in much too short a time she had a moaning, thrashing orgasm. She then sat up, thanked me, gave me her phone number and went into the house, leaving me in a state of aroused shock.

This was the beginning of a relationship like no other I had before or since. Chickie was TOTALLY sexually oriented. The term "nymphomania" did not do her justice. Nymphomania is defined as "Excessive sexual desire." Her response to that was that no one was oversexed, it's just that all the rest were undersexed! No matter what I said to her, she would take a sexual meaning or connotation from it. 

Our relationship quickly evolved into going out every Wednesday and Saturday nights. I was not aware of it at the time, but looking back I realized she fit me into her schedule those nights without me realizing it until one time I asked her to go out on a Friday night.

She looked at me in amazement and said "Don't you realize that Wednesday and Saturday are your nights? I set aside two of the best nights of the week for you."

Obviously she meant the other nights of the week were reserved for others. The funny thing though was there was no jealousy between us even though we both dated others, and even talked in general terms about other dates, although her social life was far more active than mine.

When I would pick her up on my assigned night, if I asked her what she would like to do, she would look at me and in her sexy voice would just say "You know." Knowing that "You know" meant sex I would say, well, besides that, what do you want to do. 

Her response would always be "I don't care."

I learned so much from Chickie about openness, both sexual and otherwise. She introduced me to playing Ravels, "Bolero" when we had sex. As soon as I heard it I realized what perfect background music it was for sex. Chickie could literally have an orgasm just listening to it. 

Another time she told me she couldn't go out with me the next Saturday because she was going to a ski resort.

I said "But you don't ski or even ice skate."

She replied with a smile "I'm going there for the indoor sports."

As I got to know her better and knowing I was a medical student, she confided in me that she had a severe case of rheumatic fever as a child and it damaged her heart. The next time I saw her I brought a stethoscope with me and listened to her heart. To say it was damaged was like saying a head on collision was a fender bender. Her heart sounded terrible. I realized then that she was very sick and had a very short life expectancy. In another strange twist of fate, the cardiologist she told me she was going to was on staff at my medical school. 

Amazing as it sounds, and I swear this is true, he came into class one day as a guest lecturer and presented her case! Call it fate, Karma or whatever but in a city of millions, I meet this girl in a bar and her medical history is now presented to me in medical school! I realized that whatever fate had in store for me, it revolved around Chickie.

When I saw Chickie I told her about her case being presented and much to my surprise, she became quite angry. We had never had a harsh word and I had never seen her angry like this before.

She said "How dare he invade my privacy like that."

I said, "He didn't give out your name, he just showed us x-rays of your chest and reviewed your medical history."

Chickie said "If he didn't give out my name, how did you know it was me."

I said "Well, he said this case was about a 21 year old female with heart damage who had a severe case of rheumatic fever as a child and when he showed the chest x-ray, I recognized the outline of your breasts on the film."

Chickie smiled at this and said "You recognized my breasts."

I said "That's because you have perfect breasts. If you look up breast in Grays anatomy, the picture of a breast is exactly like yours. Not too small, not too large, but just right. That's how I knew it was you."

I reached out and put my hand on her breast and said "I would know these anywhere."

She moaned and rubbed up against me, instantly turned on as usual as soon as I touched her. Now, don't get me wrong. Chickie was not just some oversexed bimbo. She was very intelligent, very quick witted, very sarcastic which I loved, and very funny in addition to being VERY sexy.

One time she said "When I come home from a date, I take my panties off and throw them against the wall. If they are still sticking there in the morning, I know I had a good time."

Whether consciously or unconsciously she knew she would not live a long life and I am sure she wanted to cram as much living and as much pleasure in the time she had on this earth as she could. 

Another thing I really admired and respected about Chickie was that, even though her mother and sisters were very religious Catholics and Chickie had been raised and inculcated as a Catholic, she rejected religion. You would think that someone with a ticking time bomb in their chest would would embrace religion and hold onto it like an alcoholic clutching a bottle of scotch. Chickie had no time for religious dogma and I greatly admired her for that. She was not looking for a fire escape. Chickie had to cram as much living as she could in the short time she had and could not waste her time on prayers. She quoted me the cynical definition of prayer from Ambrose Bierce's "Devils Dictionary" which was, to wit: "To pray is to ask that the laws of the universe to be annulled in behalf of a single petitioner, confessedly unworthy." She was the only woman I ever met who could quote from Ambrose Bierce. 

One night Chickie told me she was going into the hospital next week to have two of the valves replaced in her heart. Now this was back in the days when open heart surgery was fairly new but she showed no fear or apprehension about the coming surgery and just mentioned it in a rather matter of fact tone.

Surgery went well and she was in intensive care for a time afterward. At that time, visitors were not allowed in intensive care, so I went to visit her as soon as she got out on the regular post surgery floor. She had literally hundreds of get well cards in her room. In the back of my mind I wondered if they were all from former and present lovers. In any event, as we walked down the hall, she started literally rubbing up against me.

She said "I'm so horny I'm climbing the walls. Lets go back to my room and close the curtain around my bed and have sex."

I said "Are you crazy. You just came out of intensive care and your heart has not even had a chance to heal. You get too excited when you have sex. Your heart would be going a mile a minute and tear out the stitches. No way am I going to do that. I could see the headlines in the paper, MEDICAL STUDENT SCREWS CARDIAC PATIENT TO DEATH. Has sex with with patient in her hospital bed right after heart surgery." 

Chickie laughed and said "I understand your concern, but I still need it."

I said well, "I'm sure you will get what you want but just not from me, at least not until you get out of here. Believe it or not, I care too much for you." 

If you think I should not have been so cautious and should have taken care of her needs in the hospital, you have to understand the phrase "Fucks like a minx." If you ever saw a video of minx having sex, you would know what I mean. It looks like they are fighting. Rolling around, biting, kicking scratching when they have sex. Chickie literally fucks like a minx. I had to hold her arms down when I was in her because she would scratch and claw me with her nails. She would also bite, and bite hard. Not just little love nips. The funny thing was, that since she would go so completely crazy when she was having sex, she would literally not remember scratching, biting or any of that afterward. One time I didn't restrain her arms well enough and when I showed her the scratches she made on my back afterward, she was really surprised that she had done that to me and she had no memory of doing it. 

We continued to see each other for the next two years until I graduated and had to leave for my internship. I took her out one last time and when I brought her home we sat and talked in the car about what I had been putting off saying all night. I told her I wished I could take her with me, but I wanted to get married and have children and I knew she could never survive a pregnancy. Also, I knew her insurance was not portable and if she quit her job, she would never be able to get another policy that covered further treatments she would need on her heart. We both cried as we said goodbye. I know this sound heartless and cruel, selfish and self centered. All of which is true. But have you ever had a relationship with someone where you could be TOTALLY honest and say exactly what you were thinking? Reveal your true self no matter how flawed and still be accepted? Ours was such a special and unique relationship. There was never any jealously or angry words between us. We both felt we could be completely honest with each other and we were. The funny thing was, that the word "love" was never mentioned. Looking back on it, I realize now that she was the only woman I ever really loved. 

Sometimes I use to take her to her doctors appointment and wait in the car for her. She told me that she sometimes makes out with her doctor in his office. I told her that was fine if she wants to do that but I told her not do it while I'm waiting for her in the car. 

She just said "OK, I will not do it when you drive me there."

Meaning she would keep doing it other times. That was the kind of relationship we had.

I got married to a nurse during my internship. Actually, I got her pregnant and we got married. I often thought about Chickie and wondered how she was doing.

I went to Pittsburgh where I was from and open up a family practice and just barely made expenses. In fact when I went to an accountant to do my taxes, I had made so little money he felt sorry for me and didn't even charge me. I soon realized the practice was going nowhere and that I had to get out. A doctor in Harrisburg was looking for a partner and so I drove there to interview for the job. That night I gave Chickie a call at home and her mother said she had her own apartment now and gave me her number. I called her and it was very noisy and she said she had a group of her girl friends over for a get together. I told her I was in Harrisburg and could get to Philadelphia soon if she would like to see me. She said she would get rid of her girl friends and gave me directions to her place.

When I got there, I walked up to the door and rang the bell. She came to the door, looking just as fine as ever. However, she didn't invite me in. 

She saw my overnight bag and said "I don't hear from you in years and you think you can just walk in here and spend the night?" 

My face fell and I said "Chickie, I'm married and have a kid. I can't just pick up the phone and call you or come and see you. This was my one chance to see you but if you don't want me here I understand."

She smiled and said "Oh, come on in. I just thought you deserved a little bit of a hard time after not hearing from you for so long. I missed you."

I said "I missed you too and think about you all the time. This will be a good night to make up for lost time."

We caught up on the news with each other for a while and then it was time to go to bed. Chickie was just as hot as ever and I made sure I held her arms down as there was no way I could explain scratches when I go home. However, she got very short of breath and we had to stop every few minutes for her to catch her breath. She wanted to keep on going however, until she was finally exhausted and fell asleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night I was awakened by a loud crash and I saw Chickie was not in bed. I got up to look for her and found her laying unconscious on the floor of her bathroom. When I revived her, she told me she was passing out frequently and would be going back in the hospital next week for more heart surgery. The next morning we woke up when her alarm went off but she said she wanted more sex so I was more than happy to oblige. 

I said "Don't you have to go to work."

She said, "I don't care about work, I just want to have sex."

While she was wildly thrashing around in bed with one orgasm after another. A couple of her girl friends she worked with came to pick her up for work and rang the bell and pounded on the door. 

I said "Shouldn't you open the door before they break it it."

She said "Don't let them bother you, they'll go away."

Nothing bothered her or distracted her when she was having sex. At one point the phone rang and rang but she ignored it too. Also, at one point I made the mistake of getting my face too close to her and she bit my cheek. My immediate thought was how I could explain a bite mark on my cheek when I got home. Finally, she was just too exhausted to move anymore.

She said with a smile "Wow, I forgot how good you are. Now I'm going to have to get rid of my boyfriend. He just doesn't measure up, if you know what I mean."

I said "Yes I know what you mean, you horny little minx.  You are the best I ever had or ever will have. We are just so compatible in and out of bed. I will miss you like crazy."

She didn't want me to go and I didn't want to leave. I finally managed to drag myself away from her and as we said goodbye I think we both realized it was a final goodbye. I headed back to Pittsburgh while I thought of how to explain the bite mark on my cheek. 

When I got home and my wife asked what happened to my cheek I said "You know that new adjustable blade razor I got? Somehow, the blade got opened all the way and I didn't realize it and started to shave and scraped my cheek like that."

Fortunately, she accepted the story.

About three weeks later, I got a letter from Chickie's mother who said she found my address in Chickies apartment. She wrote that Chickie went in for surgery and died on the operating table. Her heart was so badly damaged they were never able to get it started again. She was 25 years old. It wasn't a total surprise to me because I knew how sick she was, but I cried and it was a shock that I had to conceal from my wife. It took me a long time to recover and I'm not sure I ever have. After all these years she still lives in my thoughts and is still 25 years old in my mind and my eyes grow moist as I write this. She was always so full of life, I could not have imagined her ever growing old and she never will in my mind.      



A Real Loving Wife



Beverly Walker was in a spot of homemade bother. In the sense she had made it herself in her own home. She had just been unfaithful for the first time in her life, and although she hated the idea, she was almost certain it would happen again, and again after that. The 30 year old mother had just been comprehensively seduced by her son's young teacher. 

Truth be told, he didn't even have to work very hard; she was a physical wreck around him the instant she had met him. His dark Latin looks, his stature, the way he carried himself, the way he talked, his demeanour, his walk, His super confident manner. He appeared to have an inner ability to sense, and feel an empathy with her. But most of all, it was his hypnotic voice, which mesmerised her, and talked her right out of her pants. 

She had always looked upon herself as a charitable woman, one or two of her friends had had an affair, a fling, call it what you will. And whilst she disapproved, she kept their council. But always saying, "How can they, even if their marriage isn't that strong, they should never go off the rails." 

Beverly was a very attractive woman, tall at 5ft 9" an extremely pretty face, a gorgeous figure and she dressed well. Her one extravagance, in her opinion was her fairly expensive taste in clothes, and that included designer underwear. But her husband of ten years was the beneficiary to that. 

Her hair was long and shaggy, (deliberate) and silky chestnut, which she slightly kept highlighted, but denied it to all, was a mane of beauty. It was always soft, down around her slim shoulders, and a constant cause for conversation among friends and others. 

Her body was a very sensitive instrument, an arousal could even be triggered by surprise, a scratchy dress or top, her nipples would go for broke sometimes. A lewd thought, the sight of a good looking man's tight bum in jeans, muscular buttocks were a favourite, but never once acted upon. 

Her seduction didn't come as a surprise either, it wasn't a sudden occurrence, like a car crash, she was walking into this with both eyes shut tight. It had started weeks ago, she knew it was coming; she seemed to accept the inevitability of it somehow. Whenever she had met him, his intention, unsaid, was more and more apparent to her. She was now hoping to bump into him at her son's school when she went to pick him up, or called in over a small problem. 

She knew what she was doing, leading herself to marital infidelity, but was powerless to stop it. In all her married life she had believed with an unerring certainty that she would pass on as the ultimate faithful wife when she left this earth for heaven. She had first met him on a teacher parent evening, to chat about progress mainly, but also small incidents, issues, she needed to know about. 

She was immediately and irrevocably attracted to him, his name was Mr Peters, or Mark he had told her when only in his earshot. She looked into his eyes when he talked to her and her knees wobbled. She had never in her life felt this, been like this, she was in constant control of her emotions. 

He knew how good looking he was, the inimitable babe magnet, 22 years old, and in his first real teaching job. He also knew that this wonderfully sexy mother had the heat for him, he could see it in her eyes, feel it coming off her. There were many young mothers who let him know they 'liked' him during the 15 minute window he had for his chats. 

But this mother was different from all the others, she was a star, sexy, lovely and open to offers? The piercing look she gave him when he talked to her, the look he gave her back told him he was right. He ran fingers through his hair and kept his eyes on her as he did, she followed every movement. 

He was over 6ft, probably 6ft 2", and masculine, broad shouldered and athletic. He was square jawed and chiselled looks, his hair was dark, almost black, and wavy, longer that most men's but not down onto his collar. All of his physical actions were innocent, she was checking him out and he knew she liked what she saw. 

Beverly was awe struck; tongue tied at times, in fact she had to tell herself to make sure her tongue wasn't hanging out. She had never been this way with any man. He was super confident in his manner, the way he handled himself and Beverly too. The way he explained things, told her what he wanted her to do for her son, had her hanging off every word. 

That had been her first meeting with him, and when she left she was in a daze, and her hot pussy was damp, no, tell the truth Beverly, it was wet! She went home, and for the first time in years she went upstairs and got herself off, with him in her very active mind, the scene was set! 

Beverly told her best friend about the meeting, what the effect he had had on her. Her friend laughed and told her to be careful or her pants would be off. Life went on, he was in and out of her mind, she would see him at school regularly, and he always made a point of waving to her, even crossing the playground for a chat. 

It would always leave her breathless, finally Beverly admitted to herself that, "if chance presented itself," innocently of course, then she would let him make love to her. The beautiful sexy 30 year old woman was on collision course with her inner self, the faithful wife that would never entertain infidelity. 

At her next meeting she had taken care to look so good without being too obvious, for him. Beverly wore a pencil summer dress, white with a floral pattern, 3" above her shapely knees, 3" heels to lift herself nearly up to his height, hair immaculate, along with her makeup. She knew she shouldn't be doing this but she just had to. 

At her meeting, Mr Peters decided to put her to the test, as they were talking, and he pointed something out in her son's school book, he deliberately let his little finger, along with his third and middle fingers, rest on her little finger. It was all quite innocent, but he never moved them. And Beverly never pulled her hand away, she got electrocuted by him. 

"Beverly," he said magnetically, "we need to talk in private don't you think, can we meet away from here?" he asked her, quite firmly putting the ball in her court. She was completely blindsided, no wind in her sails, utterly nonplussed. This was the moment, which one she knew not, but it was. 

"Do we need to Mr... er Mark?" she managed to respond. "Yes Beverly I think we need to, I have a day off tomorrow, perhaps we can meet for lunch in town?" He mentioned a place and time and Beverly heard herself agree. "Until tomorrow then," he said softly, stroked her finger once smoothly, and Beverly nearly wet herself. 

She rose from her chair, offered her hand for him to shake. But she only did it so she could feel his touch again. It was soft yet it demanded, his big hand engulfed hers and she nearly died. She looked at his lips, he saw her and licked them, Beverly was done for completely now. 

She left the school, she was already seduced, and she knew that tomorrow he would make love to her. He was 8 years her junior, young and single, a fantastically good looking and as sexy as all hell man. 

From that moment she told herself to make an excuse and not go, she knew where she was going, what she was going to do when she got there, and what the possible consequences were. Even that couldn't stop her wanting him. That night she worked hard at being 'Beverly,' she made dinner, put her son to bed, chatted, had a small glass of wine, and turned her back on her husband when they went to bed, she was saving herself! 

The next morning after a surprisingly good night's sleep, she saw her husband off, took her son to school, then dashed home to ready herself for her lunch time date with Mark at 12 noon. She spent the morning going through her extensive wardrobe, and in the end settled for a white satiny mini skirt, that ended around 5" up her thighs. An almost none existent thong, with backless high heels that showed her terrific toned pins off magically. 

Beverly Walker had what most other dreamed of and would kill for, perfect legs, long, meaty and not bony. Smooth toned thighs that tapered to sheer knees, no ins and outs, then tapering to dainty well formed feet. Her stride was long and graceful, languid yet purposeful. 

Her top was of similar material to her skirt, with one shoulder bare, and allowing a glimpse of flat midriff. She put on a small bra, then took it off, "no need for that Beverly is there?" she told herself throatily, she was getting more and more excited. She tried her hair up, down and sideways, every which way, it ended up resting on her shoulders, and parted right down the centre, she let it fall around her face giving off an alluring innocent school girl look. 

She made her face up lightly, not wanting to challenge God's own creation. All this time she was telling herself not to go, but when she looked into the mirror for a final appraisal, she knew how good she looked. Beverly told herself, ridiculously, that after all this effort she had to go, and she did. She got into her car and timed it to be fashionably 10 minutes late. 

When she got there she was immediately, and felt unreasonably jealous, to see him sitting at a table and chatting to a waitress, she was giggling and looking over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being watched by the boss, and maybe hoping for a request for her telephone number. 

He saw Beverly, smiled a huge bright and completely disarming smile that melted her right off. He stood to greet her like a gentleman would, the waitress left after trying not to stare, or glare at the goddess that was taking her place with this, oh so dishy guy. 

He poured tea, they drank, they chatted, Beverly listened and was enraptured, and when he asked her to accompany him, in a daze, she did. They were in the swankiest most expensive hotel in the city, as they left the room Mark took her hand, it was the real first intentional and intensive touch she had shared, she crumpled inside. 

"Beverly, please turn and walk away, don't do this Beverly, don't!" The voice in her head was adamant, then she stepped into the elevator and into his arms, he kissed her full blooded pouting lips, the protests and warnings were silenced. Lips mashed, tongues entwined, bodies melded together. 

"Beverly you look so absolutely fabulous, you are so utterly beautiful," he whispered between touching lips, "you smell wonderful, you are just fantastically sexy as hell, but nothing can compare to this," he said, and his kiss deepened. Beverly nearly fell down as his body tightened to her, her nipples were ready to explode, her pussy was dripping to the floor, and boiling hot. 

Her fidelity was no more, her marriage vows that she had always held so dear were worthless. His cock pressed right into her and she pressed back, they were touching, and now clamping head to toe. She was breathing hard through her flared arousal made nostrils, mewling submissively into his mouth. Her arms fastened tight around his neck, she kissed him as hard as she had ever kissed a man. 

They shuffled out of the elevator, and fortunately there was no one in the corridor, he slipped the card key into the door of room 511 and they entered. It was a magnificent penthouse corner suite with huge floor to ceiling windows. Beverly didn't see a thing, her eyes were shut, all she wanted was him, her son's teacher, and nothing mattered now to her but him. 

A massive double bed along one wall was where he guided her, he had never seen a sexier, beautiful, or alluring woman in his life, and he was going to fuck her to within an inch of her life. Then make love to her to make sure she came back for more. There was nothing better in life than fucking a married woman, especially one such as Mrs Beverly Walker was. 

Mark Peters was a real lover of women, he adored them, worshipped the ground they walked on, he couldn't do enough for them, he paid them every attention. He had been seducing them since he was fifteen years old, one of them his own mother, one a sister who was seven years older than he and also married, an aunt, a couple of cousins. 

Two of his teacher's fell for his seductive charms, his divorced dad's wife, his step mother. Friend's girl friends, friend's wives, a married college tutor. And plenty of women along the way, he did prefer married women, but never concentrated solely on them, single women were never turned down. 

But this one, Mrs Beverly Walker was exceptional, top of the league, numero uno, so far as the sexy beautiful stakes were concerned. And, she was married too, well married, she had told him at their very first meeting how happy she was to be married, so to have her here now was more than an added bonus. 

The thrill he was feeling to have her here in his arms, silently begging him to take her was the best he had had, ever. He nipped her tight ass with his finger tips, it made her squeal with more arousal into his mouth, Beverly could not break the kiss, it was tormenting her she loved it so much. She had never kissed, been kissed, or wanted to be kissed more than she did right now. 

He yanked her ass tightly to him forcing his rock hard cock into her pussy crack. Beverly moaned and moaned, He got her on the bed and spent an inordinate amount of time kissing and fondling her. She was going nuts, desperate for him and his cock. "Please Mark, don't tease me any more I can't stand it, make love to me, please, please, please. 

Mark didn't want to disappoint her, he removed her top, bit, sucked and murdered her nipples making her cry out as she scrambled for his cock. He got her skirt off and unceremoniously tore her thin thong right off. This too made her squeal, no one had ever done that to her, if it was possible to get more aroused, and more excited, that did it. 

Mark helped her with his clothes, but Beverly only concentrated on his zip and his trousers, followed by his shorts, and she was not disappointed, his lengthy thick cock popped out, hard and ready. "Suck Beverly, let me know how much you want me, let me know you have earned the right to have it in you." He told her quietly but with conviction. 

She threw herself on it, and tried always to swallow it whole, she couldn't, it was too long and thick, it was half the size again of her husband's. Her lovely manicured hands warmed him, they smoothed over it, his balls, even up to his ass. The head, a marvellously shaped deep purple plum, fitted her mouth like no cock ever had. 

She looked up adoringly at her young lover; she devoured what she could of it. And she sucked it as hard as she could, trying to suck the head right off, she grazed her teeth over him. "Beverly, you suck cock terrifically, go on girl give it to me, more Bev more, Mmmmm." He liked to hold back when he was being sucked off, but the married beauty was giving more than her very best to make him cum for her. 

"You're going to make me cum Bev, do you want me to?" he said gruffly. She nearly broke her neck nodding so hard with the iron bar stuck between her white even teeth, and beautiful cock sucking lips. He relaxed on the bed, and waited the few seconds it would take for his balls to reach boiling point, and then blast it into her mouth and throat. 

Beverly, eyes closed sucked, caressed, and squeezed him, all with the sole intention of making him fire his load right down the gulley of her luscious mouth. She felt the first indication, his cock somehow got harder, it shuddered between her lips, it rose in temperature. Then his hand in her hair, holding her on, "here it comes," she thought gleefully. 

She was about to happily swallow another man's cum, it was something she would have sworn a few weeks ago would be an intolerable thought. The first scalding salvo hit the back of her throat, she gulped and forced down what she could before the next one hit. The taste nearly missed her, but as she got it down the slightly salty feel touched her senses, it was wonderful. 

The next blast almost decapitated her, never in her life had so much cum been blown into her in such a forceful way, if Mark hadn't been holding her on, it would have knocked her off his cock. She sucked and swallowed it all, taking every last drop and there was a lot of it. Beverly thought she wouldn't need to eat for a week with all the protein he had just drowned her in. 

Her head on his stomach she gently but continuously kept sucking, then she left his cock alone and went to his empty balls, the hairs tickling her as she licked, sucked, and kissed her way all around him. Mark was laid back watching, he wished he could have her husband watch his wife while she serviced him in a way she probably never did to him. 

He pulled her up to him; it was her turn now while he had a bit of a rest. He got over her, knees either side in a dominant position, he leaned down and kissed her softly, and then he took her nipples, squeezed and rolled them. Beverly hit the ceiling, her hands went to his head as he kissed her, then he slid down and bit each one gently, sucking, and nibbling his way around them. Beverly's nipples were always on a high, but this high was frightening. 

She rolled her head side to side as he licked and kissed his way down to her most desired and treasured spot. No one but her husband had been there for ten years, previous boyfriends had. But now it was virgin territory, territory reserved for her husband. And now to be taken by a young man ten years his junior, and eight years hers. 

Beverly didn't care, she rejoiced in the fact that being unfaithful had its own benefits, more excitement and arousal than she could possibly bear. He reached the golden honey pot, slipped down between her legs, got his shoulders under her thighs and lifted her up. 

Then he struck, he dove his tongue right in making Beverly scream out in utter pleasure and complete surprise. His mouth closed over her pussy lips, and he sucked at the same time as poking his tongue as far in as it would go. Beverly was in shock, so much so she came immediately, right into her young lovers waiting mouth. She tasted as sweet as the honey she was, her cum rushed out to be drunk by the waiting bear. 

She collapsed inside, her pussy pulsing and throbbing as she came again, and then another right after that. She hadn't cum more than once since her wedding night, but now she knew that this man could probably make her cum just by telling her to. Mark stayed on her for an age, taking her to the proverbial cleaners. 

The biggest surprise and a huge unknown, that elicited an excited response from her, was reserved for the moment when he prodded a finger into her otherwise untouched ass. She called out his name, "Oh Mark, Oh Mark, Oh God, Mark," she ranted as he wiggled it about. She and her husband had experimented briefly with anal sex but it had never got off the ground. 

Beverly knew that this would be a part of her and Mark's sexual playground from now on. His finger working a magic in her insides was excruciatingly arousing her. Sucking and licking her pussy, prodding and jamming her ass with his finger made Beverly race between the two, each demanding her full attention, and both making her cum, twice more. 

Mark was recovering from his own cum, and in a short while Beverly was going to a fucking that she had never had, known or believed in. He felt himself, "ready to go boy?" He asked in his head, his cock twitched a yes. Gliding back up the beautiful wife's tender sexy body, he took it all in, the superb shaven pussy, the sweep of her hips, the upward taper to her up turned tits. The acorn hard nipples, the slender neck, her gorgeous face, those fabulous lips, and topped off by her mane of wondrous silky hair, now spread out on the pillow. 

"Put me in you Beverly, lets fuck and make love shall we?" he asked tenderly, intending nothing tender when he got into her. She got a hold of him and looked down at the most fabulous sight she had ever seen. A man's magnificent body, divine in every way, superbly made and finished off, the flat heaving chest, the ripped muscles of a six pack, and below that the God made shaft of the finest cock she had ever laid eyes on. 




A Real Loving Wife



She pulled him and nestled it in her pussy lips, "There," she breathed huskily. He pressed down, Beverly let go and flopped back, Mark pushed forward, he opened her up with a forceful push an entered her. Beverly's knees rose in obeyance to the thick member making its way in. Her back arched up, her head went back, her eyes rolled in her head. He shoved and their bodies were fully connected. Her pussy had never been so full, her body felt obese. 

Mark withdrew and went back in, Beverly moaned in full appreciation of what he was doing to, and for her. After several strokes, and Beverly was accepting the length and girth of this monster between her thighs, Mark speeded up. He withdrew and whump, he was back in, and again, and again, and again, wham, wham, wham. She was suddenly looking at her feet waving about in the air where her legs had thrown them after the first earth shattering bang. 

She got as far as saying "M"... when her voice failed. Her legs went sideways and Mark fucked her for all he was worth, Beverly was a scarf around his prick waving about in a strong wind as he assailed her with continuous thudding thumps with his thick hard weapon. 

She was helpless as he did her the way he wanted to, he took everything she had. She climaxed, orgasmed time after time after time. The pain was horrendous, but she loved every agony he put her through, and made her want more, to be hurt and used. Mark granted her unsaid wishes. 

Beverly had never known loving and love making to be like this, he was super human. She had never been fucked, screwed or made love to like this, all her previous boyfriends, even her husband. They were nothing more than children compared to this young giant of a man, a man among men. That's how she thought of him as he plundered, pillaged, and literally raped her. 

She wondered how many more times she could cum for him, for herself, she had never had so many. Then he slowed, looked down at her and smiled, then kissed her. He slid in and out of her in a soft graceful way, this was him loving her. Beverly's heart just about broke, he was so endearing, he looked so innocent there right above her face, she reached up to kiss him tenderly. 

Then he came in her, he didn't tell her, he didn't ask if he could, he just did, and Beverly fainted from the heart stopping moment of utter love he had shown her. He had cum just like that, because of her. She, Beverly Walker had made him cum, and simply because of whom she was. He settled down on her, kissed and loved her. This was the moment every woman savours after making love, the gentleness, and the tenderness. 

The only thing she had on was her wrist watch, lazily she looked at it, she knew, even he knew she had to pick Matty, her son, up at 3.30. It was now 2.45. She had gone from drinking tea to being bombed out of her mind in less than 3 hours. All of her vows, promises, integrity, everything she had believed in had been not just taken away from her, but she had given them so freely it astonished her. 

"Mark," she murmured, "I have to go." He nodded, he knew it, he was prepared for it. And he understood, he had had this woman of such feminine beauty, it had been his mission. But now he had accomplished it, he wanted more. Beverly Walker was a woman of rare quality. Not only unbelievably gorgeousness, and sexiness, but she was just so nice to be with. Beverly Walker was more special than she could ever know, and he would bet that her husband had no idea of who this woman was. 

"I need to see you again Beverly," he told her, "I know it's a bit difficult, not only for you, but for me too because of my job." She knew that but nodded, she wanted to see this man again, and again after that, she had to. She wrote her number on a piece of paper, "For day time texts only, no calls before or after school hours," she said. 

He would follow instructions, knowing that as soon as his number was in her phone she would do the contacting, he was right. They dressed, kissed, loved, touched and stroked. Then he told her to leave on her own, she agreed and left after a long heavy kiss. Beverly put the long wool coat on she had put in her car, no one would see her dressed to kill. 

Mark Peters left the suite and took the elevator to the top of the building. His family owned it and many other businesses, he was the only son of an extremely wealthy family. And his 'home' unknown to anyone was a two bed roomed apartment on the top floor of the swanky hotel. 

Beverly picked her son up on time, and on the outside she was still 'Beverly Walker' but on the inside she was utterly wrecked physically and mentally, how she would get by tonight as her normal self she didn't know. And now there was the guilt, she hadn't felt anything until she saw Matty smile at her when he saw his mommy. 

Now at home she quickly settled him, took a very hot shower, cleaned her hot beaten pussy, checked for unknown marks on her still tingling body, there were none that couldn't be covered with a little make up. Beverly then did something she never did, she had a large glass of wine to help her to calm her nerves which were beginning to jangle, and loudly. 

She busied herself with all sorts of little jobs, scuttling around the house, and also preparing dinner for her family. But no matter how much the guilt built, so did the effects of what Mark had done to her. She couldn't get away from the fact that she had had the most exhilarating afternoon of her 30 year old life. 

Her husband arrived home; he was a cuckold now but obviously never knew it. He kissed her, and they hugged as they always did. Beverly's mind screamed at him, "I'm an unfaithful slut, I have been in bed all afternoon with another man being screwed off my rocker Barry, what are you going to do about it?" 

"Dinner's ready Barry," she said as he played with their son, "come on Matty, up you get." She told him pulling back his special chair. They sat and ate, Beverly tried to be herself, but she didn't know how to be, she had never taken note of who she was in this manner. Barry noticed though, he saw she was at odds with herself for some reason. 

"Are you okay Bev, you seem er, distracted or?" he asked. 

Beverly got annoyed but tried not to be, she half snapped, "I'm fine why?" 

"No reason," he said, "sorry." Beverly wilted visibly; he peered at her with a concerned look on his face. 

"I'm sorry too," she managed to say with a smile, "must be that time of the month, I have felt a bit tetchy this last couple of times," she offered. 

Her husband smiled too, "it's okay, I understand," he said. She somehow got through the evening, and when they went to bed, he was feeling frisky, but she managed to contain him to a hand job, which kept him happy. The trouble was her guilt came right back, but this time because she had jacked her husband off, and Mark had been firmly fixed in her mind and she wanting this to be him. 

She had a very fitful night's sleep; she hardly slept at all, and was nearly late the next day. She had decided not to answer any texts from Mark, and she would stay away from school, this had to stop and now, she agreed completely with her sensible mind and heart. 

She took Matty to school and hurried away, she went into the store to do some early shopping. As she pulled up her phone dinged, she knew what it was and almost broke her fingers trying to get it out of the case. She didn't even think of her earlier promise that it was over, no more, done with, never again. 

"How is the most beautiful and sexiest of women on the planet today, feeling like me Beverly, euphoric, vital, alive?" x x x x x 

She was, she knew it, and she had never felt this good. Her nerve ends tingled, her body lit up, she could feel him touching her, kissing her, almost hear him speaking to her in bed. 

"Hi Mark, yes I am good thank you, what are you up to?" It wasn't an invite, just a question as to his plans. 

"I have free periods until one o clock, want to come and see me again, please?" 

"Where are you?" 

"I'm where we were yesterday, come on please, I need you Beverly." 

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," she got back in her car and drove off. Mark rang the reservation desk and booked suite 511 again for a client of the company. Beverly got there as fast as possible, her mind was scrambled, all she knew and wanted was to feel the weight of him on her, over her, and around her again, nothing else mattered. 

Her phone dinged, another text, "Don't go to the desk, come right up." She didn't even consider why he was there, how a teacher could afford such a room. She parked and dashed in and onto the elevator, as she got to the door it opened and there he was, her dream. 

All he was wearing were shorts, he yanked her in and they kissed aggressively and passionately. He was undressing her as they staggered to the bed, her right hand already in his shorts gripping his beautiful heavy thick cock once more. She sighed with happy satisfaction knowing that in a few moments he would be in her again. 

He struggled with her snug jeans; she took her shirt and bra off, as he finally dragged them off her. He stared at her luscious shape, her stature, her gorgeous face, cheeks flushed in passionate arousal, lips pouting. Beverly posed for him, enticing him, herding him into her own personal coral. 

He took her left hand, lifted it and stared at her wedding rings, she knew the meaning of the stare, she was another man's wife and she was owned by another, even if only for today she belonged to another man. He lifted her on to the bed, got over her and sank his prick right into her, her sigh of acceptance; of the need, of her passion for him, it was this was insurmountable. 

Mark went off at a tremendous pace, almost castigating her pussy, she was crying for him to go on and on, not to stop, more and more. Her long shapely legs hanging over his back, her nails dug into him to help her hold on whilst he hammered her into utter oblivion. His face contorted with the wonderful pain of her nails raking his back bringing blood to the fore and trickling down his skin. 

His face was directly above hers, but neither saw the other, their eyes were screwed tight with the undeniable and unyielding throes of gutter fighters fighting to the death. Each took the other to their limit and beyond, Beverly was cumming like a flood drain, every part of her was ablaze as Mark fucked her even harder than yesterday. She was in pain but wanted it to hurt more. She flopped back under him; he gripped her so tightly she could hardly breathe. Then he came in a roar like the mighty lion he was. Her stomach swelled with the enormous amounts of hot steaming cum filling her pussy, her womb and beyond. 

When he had finished cumming, he peered at her, she peered back, they laughed and kissed like the lovers they now were. Mark was in complete awe of her, he had fucked and screwed a lot of women, but never had he been with one like Beverly. She was utterly beautiful, absolutely as sexy as hell, she was a great, if not the best fuck he had ever had. 

But she was more than that, he could see in her eyes that she was, even though he had seduced her and not the other way round; she was an honest and open person. Yes she was now an unfaithful adulterous wife, her husband a candidate for cuckold of the month or year. 

But he believed in her, he had never felt so strongly about a female but he did for Beverly. They way her eyes settled on him, telling him that she was good, she liked what he was, what he did, the way he did it. Was he falling in love for the first time in his life? 

Beverly rolled him onto his back and got over him, now it was his turn to surrender to her. She kissed with the best kiss she had, her lips adjusting to his, her tongue poking into his mouth. Mark gave in to it gratefully. Her soft chestnut hair hung down over him, he was cocooned and a flowing haze of silky velvet. The kiss lasted for at least ten minutes, passion fulfilled them both. 

Beverly was teasing him, but she was teasing herself more, passion was building through the interminable lip locking lovers smooch. Her hand slid down his body, his caressed her taut ass. She tried to stop her fingers reaching for him but she couldn't, she needed to hold him, feel him, feel the power, the strength of him. 

Her next thought made her smile, "can he do me again, right after what he has just gone through?" It was an unfair question of him, but Mark had the answer, and it was right there in her spreading fingers. She thrilled feeling him grow once more, to know with an unerring certainty, it was her that was making him like this, no one else, it was her! 

The excitement of her feminine beauty and power grew within her as her body released the shackles of love, nothing would be held back, he could have her, she was his. He rolled her over now, going where she liked to be, under him, waiting for that fundamental shock of hard big cock splitting her open for him. 

"Get on your knees Beverly, I want to fuck you from behind," he told her. She immediate did as she was told. She knew already that if he told her they were going to fuck, make love, rut, shag in whatever way he wanted, she would be ready and willing. He got behind her slicked ass, he didn't tell her, or warn her he was going into her rear end, her tight brown unused hole was wet and greasy with their combined cum. 

"All the lube I need," he told himself. He gripped her hips, made sure the hold was good; Beverly had her head down, her fingers curled into the sheets for steadiness. She had no idea what he was preparing to do, although she expected it soon from him. He slipped the head up her pussy lips, and when it was looking its anointed target, in he went. 

"Arghhhh," she screamed loudly, her body shot forward, he went with her, hands leaving her hips, and wrapping them under her shoulders, he went all the way in, in one positive shove. "Mark, oh Mark pleeeeease, no, Arghhhh, Ohhhh." But he was where he intended to be, his hold strong, Beverly had no chance of getting out from under him. 

He literally took her, debased her and used the perfect rump he was now securely fixed in. He held his place until she stopped trying to dislodge him. Giving into the inevitable ass rendering he was visiting upon her. She knew she would let him do it the minute he mentioned it. But he hadn't said anything, the surprise and pain were total and uncomprehending in severity. 

She bent her head and felt her body give in, he wanted, he was getting, she surrendering. He held her there, her ass gradually expanding to allow the monster in and secure its place in her forever. Mark moved a little, Beverly gasped waiting for the hurt, 

"Shhhhhh," he whispered in her ear, "Shhhhhh, lie still Beverly, lie still, let it go, let it happen, relax darling," his words soothed her and she tried to do what he told her. He moved again, but this time pulling out slightly. Beverly's ass tried to go with him, but when he pressed down she felt the thick length of him control and take her body parts over. 

Now she understood her part, "hold your ass tight when he pulls out, relax it when he comes back in, got it?" she asked her mind, "yes," was the reply in her head. Beverly now determined to give him what he wanted, let him have his head, literally. Mark drew back about half way, he had to make sure Beverly got with the programme, he sank back in, and that's when he heard her breath out. He pulled away again, her ass tightened, she breathed in, he pushed back down, he felt her relax around him, her nostrils gushed air out. 

"Beverly, you are just too wonderful, I love you," he snuffled into her ear. He didn't hear himself say the words, but they hit her with all the force of a battering ram. Her head lifted to ask him to repeat that, he pushed back in and the words came out of her with the air in her lungs. 

Now he pulled almost all the way back, and sank back in without breaking stride, and out again, until her ass ring held the head of his cock in. That was the moment, the defining point of her receiving her first real and proper ass reaming. He bottomed out, (no pun intended) Beverly went with it, now she knew what to expect, and how to react to him. 

Mark now went after her; he pulled out and drilled back in, in a big hit. Beverly mewled; her face buried into the sheets, and her teeth gripping them, with her sweat soaking into them. He got into his stride and fucked her ass big time, he showed no real mercy and Beverly knew not to expect any, he hadn't shown any when he had fucked her previously, 'why start now,' she asked herself. 

She became an add on, a bit part player, while he fucked her ring hard and long, and soon she felt the glow of arousal coming from behind her, into her stomach via her pussy. Now she was getting hers, just as he had hoped she would. In fact he would have bet on it, but the proof, as they say is in the pudding. In Beverly's case the climax forced through his prick, into her ass, up through her pussy, and swamping her body. 

Then her mind and Beverly exploded in the biggest cataclysmic orgasm she had ever had or endured. She thought she was going to die; such was the ferocious magnitude of the earth shattering detonation she experienced for the first time in her life. She lay prone beneath him, nothing worked, her arms and legs wouldn't move, her body heaved through attempting the intake of oxygen it now desperately needed. 

Mark knew he had attained his objectives, to make her have it, to make her want it, to make her take part in it, and to orgasm because of it. He withdrew his sticky cock, slid back from her and looked at her ruined ass; it was gaping wide where he had been. He knew it would close up soon, but never again would it be as tight as it had been ten minutes before. 

He went into the bathroom and had a quick shower, paying particular attention to his shit covered and slimy genital area, she didn't need to see that just yet he told himself graciously. He dried off and returned to her, she was half turning over with some difficulty. 

She grinned at him wildly, and said softly. "I will never ever walk straight again you horrible man," she giggled, then said, "Ooooooh," aqs she grimaced, and put her hand behind her to stroke her bum. Mark got on the bed and collected her in his arms. 

"I can honestly say Beverly; I have never met a woman like you. You are utterly breath takingly wonderful," he whispered. "So prettily beautiful, so sexy, so nice, and" he said, "so utterly woman." She gruffed at that. "You give what you don't know you have, and I can't explain that remark. But you give everything." 

Beverly was lying there stunned, to be told all this from a man so young, so knowing, so giving of himself. She knew that what he had done, these past two days, what he had accomplished. Was to show her that her life wasn't quite as complete as she was sure it had been. 

And in the throes of making manic insane love to her, he had told her that he loved her. Now Beverly had to ask herself that same question, did she love him, she really didn't know the answer. But she knew that he was a part of her life now that she didn't think she could do without. And, did he really love her, or was it a comment made in the heat of passionate battle while in her arms, and in her body. 

He had taken her to places she didn't know existed, shown her things she knew nothing of. He had fucked her ass, he had taken her, made her accept it, and therefore he had dominated her like she had never been dominated. The fact was, he had dominated her as no other man ever had, she had been dominated, and she had liked it, a lot. 

Beverly had let men think they could 'boss' her, even in school it would be boys, maybe even tell her. But it happened because she let it happen. When it came time for her to show otherwise, the men and boys were shot down big time. But what Mark had done bamboozled her, he hadn't asked, he hadn't told, no indication, he just had and Beverly liked him using her. 




A Real Loving Wife



The way he had first made manic powerful overwhelming love to her, just taken her ass, the time he had simply ripped her thong off. She looked at him and knew, as only a woman can know, that as young as he was, he was a man to be considered, listened to and heard, and Beverly was listening with her body and mind. Beverly wanted to cuddle and love him, she turned into his arms and buried her face in his ches, her hand roamed him, her lips kissed him, she crushed herself to him. 

"What am I going to do?" she asked herself, "I'm so far into him now, I need to be with him. But my boy, my little Matty, oh God where, what, have I done to me, to them?" He stroked her back and Beverly melted, he kissed her hair, snuggled into her, arms and legs intertwined. 

Sleep overcame them, when she opened her eyes she was still exactly in the same position, she wondered where she was, then memory came back, she kissed his chest. She looked at her watch, it was time for him to go to school. 

"Darling, Mark," she nudged him, he grunted, moaned, and turned in her arms. 

"I love you Beverly," he said, eyes still closed. Was he still asleep? She wondered. 

"I love you too," she said, watching his face, it never moved. "Beverly! you idiot, what are you doing," she scolded herself, "what are you saying, you have just told him you love him." She decided it was a good job he was still in the land of nod. 

"I know you do," she heard him say, her closed eyes popped open to see him looking at her with a lovely sexy smile on his handsome face. "Mark, you weren't supposed to hear that," she said softly. 

"Why, didn't you mean it?" 

"Yes, No, Oh I don't know what I mean." She replied confused. 

"Yes you do Bev, you can deny it all day long, but you know I love you, and you know that you love me as well." 

"But Mark," she cried, "I'm married, I have a loving husband, and my young son, he is your pupil too, oh lord, oh my." 

"Yes it is a bit of a twist, and I am not going to put any pressure on you. But I will tell you this, I want you, I love you, and I want you to be my wife and not his. There now you know where I stand, the decision s yours, take as long as you like. I'll be here waiting for you." Beverly had never been confronted in this way about anything in her life. 

She knew in her heart that she did love him, but she loved her husband too, and her son Matty got top billing in every way. 

"You will lose your job over this Mark, then what would you do? I would lose my life, my home, everything would be gone, how would you support me, and then there's Matty, what about him hey?" He had no intention of telling her about his family riches, his own personal wealth. His teaching job he loved. But it was done with the intention of proving to himself, and to his family that he could make his own way without them, he was and would always be, his own man. 

"There would be bridges to be crossed Bev, and I would be holding your hand all the way, but you have to give me that hand by your own volition. There would always be the doubt if you didn't," he told her with a kiss. They loved some more, and she didn't want to go, she wanted to be with him. 

Eventually he moved to shower and dress, she went with him; Mark marvelled at her long legged but so graceful stride, it almost gave him another hard on. In the shower, there was no one else on earth but them. Beverly washed and cleaned him, then dropped to her knees to service him, she did it willingly, he never asked. Her husband had to, but Mark didn't, that thought stuck in her mind. 

She blew him away, his cock and balls swelled to how she liked them to swell, then she really got at him. She wanted a final unexpected load. He didn't disappoint her, he blew a hot wet load into her mouth where she dutifully swallowed it all, then his wilting cock was sucked right down into her throat, it was the first time she had ever deep throated a man. And it wasn't her husband. 

They parted sadly, her making her way out again, and on her own again, she didn't like that at all. She forced herself to go shopping; she needed to occupy her mind. When she got home she was lonely, sad, and she was bereft, she needed him, she wanted him, she loved him, Damn it! 

The beautiful sexy thirty year old mother looked at herself in the mirror. "You really have put the cat among the pigeons Bev haven't you?" she asked her reflection. She knew he had chased her then seduced her, but she had been just as complicit in her seduction, her surrender to him. But what she hadn't bargained for was how she felt about him. She had never thought of the possible consequences, and now those very same consequences were taking their toll. 

"I love him Bev," she said in the mirror. "But he's so young; he's only twenty two, for god's sake!" "So what," her mind answered, "so effing what!" 

"But what am I going to do?" she asked, the ache in her stomach was painful. "He told you it was all down to you, he would be there, and you know he will," her mind replied again. Beverly burst into tears, sat in a chair and cried her eyes out, her life was truly in turmoil. She made herself look like Beverly Walker once more and went to pick her son up, she didn't see Mark, but she did see her best friend. 

"Beverly, what have you done?" she asked pointedly, "come on, I know you've been up to something I can see it like a flag waving in the breeze!" Beverly broke down, was it so obvious, her guilt, her cheating, her infidelity, her adulterous life? 

"Oh Carol, what am I going to do?" she wailed. Her friend took her by the arm and forced her into her car. 

"Come on Bev, what is it?" 

"I, I, I, er I have seen another man Carol, oh my god what am I going to do," she wailed again. 

Carol really was stunned, "You haven... Oh no Bev, Mr Peters, Mark, oh Jesus Bev, how, why, when, oh fucking hell," then humorously, "Is he as good between the sheets as he is to look at, Oh you lucky lucky girl. I wish it had been me." 

Beverly had to laugh even through her tears. "Yes he is," she blubbed, "and even better than that, oh my god what am I saying!" 

Carol stared at her, this was serious, "Hell Bev, just how far have you gone with him?" she asked. 

"As far as one can go Carol," she sobbed softly, "and maybe even further than that, don't ask me why or how, I don't know it just did. And I have never felt anything like this in my life. He has opened me up to someone I never knew, me!" Now Carol was absolutely perplexed, she had always known of Bev's feeling on stepping outside of her marriage, and now here she was, confessing to it all. 

She wished it had been her, she had the hots for this guy from the off, but Bev somehow, innocently or otherwise, had beaten her to the punch big time. "What are you going to do Bev?" 

"I don't know, he told me he loved me, and I think I love him. But he made it quite clear that whatever the choice, it would be down to me, and no pressure from him. He wants me carol, he really does." 

Carol sat back now, she couldn't think, "but what about Barry, and what about Matty? Mark will certainly lose his job over this, then what, what will you do?" 

"I don't know, but he is so confident, he doesn't brag, I think he is one of those rare people that no matter what they do, they come up smelling of roses and all is well with the world." 

"That won't be enough Bev if you go with him, you and Matty will need more than a nice rosy smell," her friend was firm with that. 

"Yes I know carol, but I can't imagine not seeing him again, it just won't fit in my head, even if Barry finds out, I know I would still see Mark. I couldn't say no to that, ever." 

"Well Bev, you know I'll always stand by you, but you have to make Mark tell you what his intentions really are, and after that, you have to tell Barry!" That stumped Beverly, she knew her friend was right. 

"Next time I see him, I'll have it out, if he doesn't come up with the goods, I'll walk away, I promise Carol, I really will." Bev was adamant in her voice. Matty and Carols daughter came running out and that was the end of their conversation. 

Carol took her daughter home, rang the baby sitter and headed back to school, she was after Mark. The blond haired lovely saw him driving out of the car park and followed. She saw him pull into the hotel private parking area, 'funny,' she thought. 

She parked in the public one and trailed him in. She watched him go to the desk where a girl happily smiled at him and gave him a bundle of mail. 'What's going on?' she wondered. Then instead of going into the restaurant or bar, he walked around the reception desk, Carol was about ten feet behind him. 

She watched him hit a key pad four times and a door opened, elevator doors slid back and he stepped in. Carol jumped after him and the doors closed behind them. 

"What, who, I'm sorry this is a private elevator Miss?" Then he recognised her as a mother of one of his pupils. "Mrs Horton," he said, "why are you here what can I do for you, "he asked, a bemused look on his face. Carol looked at the side of the door, there was only one button, she hit it and the elevator took off. 

Carol was the same age as Beverly, and gorgeous in her own right, but next to Bev, she was just a competitor. Even so she had no shortage of suitors, and in fact was fucking one of the dads of her daughter's friends. Blond haired, and 5ft 5" she was a bombshell in anybody's eyes. 

Today she was wearing a simple grey plaid calf length skirt, a white long sleeved shirt, come blouse, and grey high heeled ankle boot. "Call me Carol Mr Peters, Mark," she said, "and we need to talk, urgently." 

"We do, why?" he asked, he was taking her in, "nice," he said in his head. The elevator stopped and the doors slid back. 

Carol stepped out, forcing him to follow. Now she knew something was amiss. This wasn't a part of the hotel, this was a private area. They were at the end of a stylish corridor. And there were four doors. "Which one is yours Mark?" she said taking a chance. His hand drifted to a pocket, but stopped. Carol dipped her hand into it and came out with a key card. 

"Ah," she said and tried one door, then the next and it opened. Mark was amused now, he had no idea what was going on, but he was finding it amusing. If she had been a man he would be head to hospital right now, but he was not worried about her. Carol stepped in and whistled, "Wow, is this yours Mark, are you hiding this from the world?" 

"It belongs to the family," he told her, the 'family' was one of the wealthiest in the country. She whisked around it as only a woman can and would. 

Carol was a very astute woman, she guessed quickly and rightly, that his family was a known, and or powerful one. "Very nice," she said, "Now, you are having an affair with Beverly Walker, and I'm here to tell you that it stops, and it stops right now, or I will ruin you, got it?" She was standing hands on hips, head thrown back, feet apart, she was looking up at him, thinking "God isn't he just so good fucking looking." 

"Are you fighting her battles Carol, doesn't she have the stomach for one?" he said, trying not to smile. 

"She doesn't even know I'm here Mark, but she has a terrific husband, a wonderful son, whom you know well. That won't go down well at school will it, or the authorities for that matter." She was flushing, she wasn't angry; she was defending her friend and her life. Carol was divorced from her husband who had had an office fling. Carol had retaliated with his brother, hence a divorce. 

She was a happy go lucky woman, friends with everybody, especially Beverly. Without thinking she pushed him, he went with it, she did it again, and so did he. This was getting her hot and bothered, he was checking her out. He ended up being pushed down into a huge leather arm chair. 

Suddenly she knew what she was going to do, or try to do. She was stood over him looking down. "You end it Mark and I really do mean what I said, but you will get a reward," she told him. 

He smiled broadly, he was being threatened, told what he could and couldn't do, and now she was offering him a reward? His wide grin turned Carol on, she could feel her cheeks flushing, and the hot tingle she got on the pit of her stomach when she was turned on. She hadn't meant this to happen, but it had. 

"And just what does this reward consist of Mrs Hort... Carol?" he asked almost laughing. Carol took the wind right out of his sails, and wiped the grin right off his extremely handsome face. His Latin dark looks became alive in her eyes. 

"This," she said, rapidly pulling her shirt open, she was so glad she hadn't got a bra on. Her marvellous full, firm, hard long and thick nippled tits were staring him in the face. His jaw dropped, his eyes popped, then Carol hitched her skirt up and straddled him, he was trapped, her knees either side of him. Grabbing his head she kissed him, "is the reward Mark, me!" 

Taking his hands, she lifted them and placed each one on her breasts, it was game over for him. "I have just won the jackpot, the biggest lottery win in history," he chirped as his mouth closed over a solid nipple. Carol moaned, and held his head to her, he suckled and nibbled, sucked and licked, Carol Horton was his, she had given herself to him to defend her friend's honour, and her marriage, but now he was taking the control, and she loved it. 

Carol dropped her hands to undo his belt and zip, digging in with her hand she found what she was looking for and swooned. It felt wonderful, long, hard thick and ridged, she was impressed without even seeing it. 

"Bedroom," she warbled, "now Mark, oh Jesus Christ, now, hurry Mark, please." He forced himself out of the chair, Carol wrapped her legs around his waist and he ran. Throwing her on the bed, he began pulling his clothes off, and Carol did the same. Both naked bodies came into view and both were happy, very happy, with what they saw. 

She was dripping wet by now, he had a hard on that could knocked a hole in a brick wall. He pounced, Carol threw her legs in the air and BANG he was home. "Argggggh Oh fuck Mark, what is that a fucking baseball bat!" she cried out. He heard but was focussing on fucking her like she had never been fucked; he was going to teach her a lesson in manners. You don't blackmail someone like Mark Peters. His piston like prick was touching parts forever untouched; he ripped at her with long hard detonation strokes. 

She fit him like a finger in a silk glove, she tensed her pussy muscles as he bottomed out, and let go when he pulled out. They were both concentrating on their own bodies, and the sensations both were receiving from the other. Carol howled in orgasmic glory, no man had screwed her as heavily and as hard as this, it was sher bliss, being rammed and so filled with big cock was a new experience for her. 

He too was sensing that this woman who had burst into his life was especially different too, certainly to Beverly. Beverly was the best looking of the two, even though she was a lovely as well, "but this woman has that Ooooomph!" he thought gleefully. Carol did have a quality that most other women couldn't match; including Beverly. She attracted men to her, as well as some women, simply because of the nature instilled inner star quality that she possessed. 

Her legs over his back, heels dug into his ass, fingers forming dents in his shoulders. Carol was Ooooohing and Arggghing, he was growling and grunting with the exertion he was making. Then both came in the same instant, sweat dripped from his forehead, Carol was glassy eyed from the pounding. 

She shot her love juice out of her soaking pussy and on to the bed. Just as he refilled it with stifling hot cum. He thrust in hard one last time, and she held him in as he blasted cum up, and out of his prick, and her pussy did its level best to squeeze it all back out. 

The afterglow settled on them, then Mark started laughing, he laughed out loud, he guffawed, Carol wondered why, what was he thinking. "That's the best reward any man alive could be given," he told her sweetly, "I'm certainly looking for more after payments Mrs Horton, sorry, Carol," and he sniggered delightfully. 

She looked at him, still on top of her, still connected to her, still held by her. She too was looking to 'pay' him more, after what she had paid him, and the deposit he had given her in return. "That Mark," she said, "will depend on our agreement, we do have one don't we?" 

He looked at her, he also knew she was right, even though he was an MCP at times, he knew he couldn't hurt Beverly and her family. "We have an agreement Carol, I promise. I will tell her I'm not ready, that I don't want to commit, not yet, That we have to stop because of the terrible consequences if it ever got out, okay?" 

"I believe you Mark, but don't ever let me down, you don't want me to come after you," she told him. 

"Come after me?" he said laughing, "You came at the same time I did. You fancy round two later?" She punched his arm, "yes," she giggled, "but it'll have to be tomorrow, I have to go home, Sandra, my daughter is waiting." He helped her up, and thought to himself, "how lucky can one guy get, I have met and been to bed with two of the most delightful and stunning women I've ever met." 

Hey dressed, and kissed as he walked her to the door, she turned to him and asked. "Who are you Mark really; you can't be just a penniless new teacher beginning a new career, because you're not?" 

"This has to and must remain between you and me Carol. What I tell you now must never be known, promise?" she swore on her life. "I am the only son of one of the wealthiest families in the country. My parents are filthy rich, so am I as it happens. But I have to prove to them that I can and will make it on my own. That's until the day arrives when I take it all over. There now," he continued, "that's me, who and what I am. But I am also your daughters and Beverly's son's teacher too." 

Carol was stunned; she promised again that it would remain with her. She kissed him hurriedly, gave him her number, "Delete Beverly's now, and change your number so she can't call you either, that is an order!" She chuckled. 

"Yes maam," he laughed a she left. He sat and pondered events for an hour, he deleted Bev's number and rang down for a new phone. He downloaded the names and numbers and put them in it, adding Carol's. He then sent multi texts to all of his contacts, that he had changed his contact number. 

Three days later, he saw Beverly; he asked her to meet him for a coffee and he gave her the news. She thanked him, but said it sadly, but she agreed he was right. She also told him she would never forget the fleeting moments they had had. She left and the she cried, but later her son's cheery cheeky face made her smile. That night she made love to Barry in a way she hadn't for a long time. He too sensed a change, and he felt his wife had come back from wherever she had been. 

Carol and Mark became an item, eventually she told Beverly that she had met Mark out of school, and that they were getting serious. Beverly told her she loved her, and wouldn't forget that she was her best friend. But asked her to be careful, you know what he's like, Beverly laughed. She kept out of Mark's way and got back into her life. She knew that even though she had loved him, she loved her family more, and the right decisions had been made.



A Real "Loving Wife's" Tale



I met Brian, the man of my dreams, in college. While I was enamored of him the very first time that I saw him I didn't really think that I had a chance of even dating him, let alone a long standing relationship with him. He was so good looking, so witty, so kind, so smart, so charming, that he literally could have had his pick of any girl in our college, or even any female professor. His big blue eyes always seemed to be dancing, his muscular arms and chest heaving, and his lips pursing -- at least to me.

Every girl in my sorority flirted with Brian. The ones lucky enough to get dates with him swooned. Their only complaint was that he was too much of a gentleman. I still remember the comment Marg Simpson -- probably the girl with the biggest tits and finest ass that I have ever seen -- made after her third date with him. "How can the guy only want to make out and not fuck me? I even rubbed his cock and didn't wear any underpants and he didn't get down. I would have let him use my mouth, tits, pussy, or even ass!"

Sitting in the student union eating lunch one day, reviewing my notes for a quiz in my next class, Brian came up to my table and asked if he could sit with me. I was almost speechless. He was so pleasant and funny that I quickly became at ease. I ended up five minutes late for class, bombed the quiz because all I could think about was him, and was really pissed at myself for allowing myself to think that his friendliness was anything more than that.

Over the next few weeks it seemed that Brian always ended up at my table whenever I was in the student union, and then shocked the hell out of me by asking me out. He apparently took my shock for apprehension, and put his head down and started fumbling around apologizing for being "so forward." I surprised myself by lifting up his chin, looking into his eyes, smiling, and saying "I'd love to; what do you have planned?"

Our first date ended with a kiss, and the next two we made out. I was guarded, however, because I knew that I could fall completely for him instantly and couldn't believe that he wanted a long term relationship and was protecting myself from getting burned. Halfway through our fourth date we had a frank discussion.

"Julie, it seems that you're really holding back in our relationship. Is that a correct perception, or am I reading things wrong?" Brian said while holding my hands as we stood near a fountain in a local park.

I decided to be completely straight forward when I responded "I guess you're right. You're out of my league and I don't want to get burned, cause I could really easily fall for you."

He laughed. His laugh was a combination of a relieved and humorous one. "Are you serious?" he asked; "I honestly thought it was because you thought that you were out of my league."

"How could you ever get that impress..." I started to say before he drew me to him and gave me the most passionate kiss of my life.

When he finally let me come up for air he said "Let's both let ourselves be vulnerable and see where it leads us."

With a big smile I said "OK," then kissed him as passionately as he had kissed me.

Two dates later we had a magical sexual epiphany. Naked in his dorm room -- his roommate was out of town and the door locked -- his body looked even better than clothed, especially his beautiful stiff cock. His eyes -- and lips -- told me that he loved how my body looked too.

The times that I had had sex before Brian were more or less slam, bam, thank you ma'am. While enjoyable, they were far from earth-shattering. Brian was way different. He slowly sucked on my tits while massaging my pussy without penetrating it. I tried to get my hand on his dick, but he would cleverly move it away from me as he hopped from one nipple to the next. While I was in a semi-dreamlike state as he was sucking one nipple suddenly his mouth was on my clit and a finger in my pussy massaging my G-spot, until that moment something that I wasn't sure that I had.

I came harder than I ever had before in my life the instant that his tongue touched my clit and his finger entered my pussy. Then as his lips, tongue, and seemingly all ten fingers worked over my entire crotch I had another first -- multiple orgasms. All that I could do was moan, yelp, and hold onto his hair and shoulders.

I don't know how many orgasms I went through before he rose up, gently put my heels on his shoulders, and penetrated me. I had another orgasm the instant his cock entered my then very wet pussy. He pounded, then gently stroked, then pounded again until he unleashed a tsunami of cum into me when my pelvic floor muscles squeezed his dick. The last feeling I remember having was euphoria so far beyond my previous experience that it was in a different universe!

I recovered from my comatose state with Brian's cock still inside me, very gently stroking or wiggling as it gradually became flaccid. When he pulled out we laid cuddled together gently kissing each other. I then experienced another first -- orgasmic aftershocks! Each only lasted five or ten seconds, but they were spectacular. Brian was intermittently flinching too, off sync with my flinches, so I knew that he was experiencing them too. When we both experienced one at the same time as we passionately kissed we broke our kiss and laughed.

I will never forget looking into Brian's eyes the next morning and seeing something different -- there was a clear glint, almost like his sexual satisfaction was celebrating itself in his eyes. I vowed to make sure that that glint never disappeared.

From that night until about eighteen months ago I considered my sex life (in fact, my life in general) to be as close to perfect as possible. Brian's cock fit my pussy perfectly, we both loved to experiment with different positions, our bodies readily molded to each other, and our values, morals, goals, and personalities meshed perfectly. We were inseparable from that night forward, got married right out of college, and now, both having recently turned fifty, are still as in love as we were that night.

Except for about three weeks before and six weeks after I delivered each of our three children, and only two extended business trips that Brian took, the frequency and intensity of our sexual intercourse has never wavered. Having mind blowing sex five times a week was the rule more than the exception. The only time that the glint ever went out of Brian's eyes were the times that my body was unavailable due to child birth and his two extended trips. In both cases, the glint was back in his eyes by the second time that we made love once I was back in commission or he was back in town.

While both of us enjoyed oral sex, the orgasms from oral sex were usually mild. We tried anal only a couple of times and neither of us liked it at all; it was painful for me, and didn't turn Brian on. Brian did occasionally tit fuck me, but since when I'm not nursing my tits aren't very big or pliable, it was never that great for either of us. Vaginal sex was where it was at for both of us, as best I can remember never ceasing to result in mutual intense, earth-shattering, toe-curling orgasms.

Eighteen months ago, shortly before we turned fifty, with three adult children that we were immensely proud of, and two darling grandkids, things changed drastically. They didn't change for the reasons they often do on 'Loving Wives.' I never cheated on Brian, and I am positive that he never cheated on me either. There simply was no need or desire to. What changed was my vagina.

Over a period of about a month, my vagina started getting more and more sensitive during intercourse. At first I dismissed it, but when pain caused me to interrupt Brian within mid-stroke one night, we knew that there was a problem. He was extremely concerned and thought that he had done something wrong. I assured him that he had not, but that obviously there was something wrong. I promised him that I would see the doctor as soon as possible, and gave him a less than stellar blow job, although he went out of his way to thank me for it and remark about how great it made him feel.

I got an appointment with my OB/GYN, Dr. Mary Phillips, as soon as I could. In addition to a normal physical she gave me a pelvic MRI and an ultrasound. I went back to see her three days later -- three days without vaginal penetration of any kind, although I tried to give Brian the best blow jobs that I could -- when my blood work and analyzed test results came back.

After a few pleasantries, Dr. Phillips got right to the point. She is a no-nonsense medical professional and I always expected, and got, "the facts" from her during my pregnancies and normal checkups.

"Julie, the news isn't good. I've consulted with several colleagues, not just in my practice, but around the country. None have ever heard of someone having all three of the conditions that you have at the same time. Vaginismus, Endometriosis, and Pelvic inflammatory disease known as PID for short."

I groaned. "I don't know what they are, but they sound bad."

"Well one is real bad, and two can be. The treatment for one is exercise, the treatment for one is antibiotics, and there are three possible treatments for the third," she said with a stern expression.

"Lay them out in order of severity please," I said after taking a deep breath to steel myself.

"Vaginismus is treated by exercises, including the Kegel exercises you did while pregnant. I think that this condition was actually brought on by the other two and your body's reaction to them. If you follow through with the exercises within a few weeks this condition may be overcome, but that might not do you any real good."

"Great," I mumbled.

"PID is typically treated with antibiotics. Your PID is not an STD, but apparently due to the changes, for some unknown reason, in the microorganisms that comprise the vaginal flora in your reproductive system. We will have to experiment with various antibiotics until we get the right one, but hopefully over time the drugs will take care of this condition," she indicated.

"OK -- but why do I feel that the ax is now about to drop?" I replied.

Now it was Dr. Phillips' turn to take a deep breath before she continued. "Unfortunately, because the ax is about to drop. Your endometriosis is about the most severe that I've ever seen, and I'm surprised that you have lived as normally as you have."

"Exactly what is endometriosis doctor?" I inquired. 

"It's a condition in which the endometrium, the tissue lining the uterus, grows outside the uterus. Normal treatment is with hormones or surgery, but neither are permanent nor are they expected to be particularly helpful in your situation because of the extensive nature of your problem. Even a hysterectomy may not be successful because 'implants' of the disease are all over your pelvic cavity, and they feed on estrogen, which is typically the hormone replacement therapy given after a hysterectomy," she replied, her voice cracking.

I sat stunned. "Do you have a recommendation?" I asked.

"I recommend both a partial hysterectomy and non-estrogen hormone therapy, but unfortunately the probability of relieving the pain sufficient for you to ultimately have normal sexual intercourse is small."

I collected all of the information that I could from Dr. Phillips, with the intention of starting the exercises and antibiotics immediately and discussing other options with Brian. It was a bad day -- a really bad day -- maybe the worst of my life.

I won't relate any more medical information to you because all of that is simply background, but will instead focus on the relevance to why this story is on this site.

Brian was devastated. The glint in his eyes disappeared after a couple of weeks when my symptoms not only didn't improve but got worse.

Certainly our lives did not revolve around sex -- but sex was always the whipped cream and cherry on top of the sundae of life. Five of the ten most memorable experiences of my life are completely dominated by sexual experiences with Brian.

Since sex had been an important part of my life ever since I met Brian losing it was even harder on me mentally than physically. Brian was as compassionate and understanding as possible, but the absence of the glint in his eyes told me that it was every bit as hard on him as it was on me. I tried my best to please him any way that I could, seeking out his cock to blow him or give him hand jobs whenever he gave even the slightest hint that he was interested in them or my less than stellar tit-fucking. However, for both of us they were a very, very poor substitute for vaginal sex.

We tried anal. To be honest, it hurt me almost as much as my conditions caused vaginal sex to hurt, but I tried to pretend that I enjoyed it. Brian was too perceptive for that. He realized after our first few times that I got less than nothing out of it, and he also didn't like it -- he never had when my pussy was working well, and my pussy being out of commission didn't seem to change that.

That left us in sexual hell -- or rather non-sex hell. While our non-sexual relationship was as good as it ever was I still constantly thought about what we had lost. I even went to see a physiatrist but simply could not put it out of my mind.

I eventually personally came to terms with my conditions, recognizing that I had simply lost an important part of my life -- but it was harder to come to terms with what Brian had lost. He had no physical problem; he was as sexy and potent as ever; yet my problem was now his and our problem.

In the process of coming to terms with my personal loss I went through various stages of grief. At first I was certain that Brian would look elsewhere for sexual satisfaction, even though I had no logical reason to believe that and even though his love for me showed absolutely no sign of wavering -- in fact he made every effort to treat me even better (if possible) without showing any signs of pity or sorrow.

It was at that stage of grief that I did something that I now hate myself for, although my physiatrist says that my feelings toward myself are too harsh given my situation. I tested Brian.

In the large metropolitan area that we live in there is an organization (that I'll call "RT") that advertises relationship testing. I personally went to see them to get all of the information possible about their services. In a nutshell, they collect as much personal information about the person to be tested (called "the target") as possible, and then put him or her into contact with someone of the opposite sex of roughly comparable age, attractiveness, and intelligence who subtly 'comes on' to them and records their reaction. Their operatives record the meetings with the target, give their best efforts to interest them, but do not do anything sexually overt and are absolutely forbidden -- on penalty of losing their job and being blackballed -- from actually having sex with the target.

Since Brian is about as attractive and intelligent as a fifty year old man can be, RT gave me their choice of their two best looking operatives between forty and fifty five years old. I insisted on meeting with both of them, something that RT does not normally allow or recommend, but my offer of double their normal fee convinced them. 

Cheryl was forty five with long red hair, a flawless complexion, a pretty age-appropriate face, and a body that looked twenty five. She had a Masters' Degree in public relations, and was charming. I really worried about putting someone as attractive as her in contact with Brian for any reason, but had resolved to go through with it.

Denise was forty eight with medium length light brown hair, also with a pretty age-appropriate face. Her body was more age-appropriate than Cheryl's, but she had perfectly, for Brian's tastes, sized (that is large) and shaped (that is truly conical) knockers. She had a B. S. in marketing and was as charming as Cheryl was.

I asked both of them, when I interviewed them individually, why they worked part-time in relationship testing. They had the same response. They enjoyed the rush it gave them, they had both been cheated on in past relationships, and it was the easiest extra money that they could possibly imagine. Their wardrobes indicated that they knew how to spend the extra money that it brought in.

I hired both of them for two contacts each, first Denise and then Cheryl. I didn't want to know their plans for making contact, but I provided them sufficient information, and they had sufficient flexibility in their normal work schedules, to figure out appropriate scenarios.

After two months Mark, the director of RT, gave me a final report. "Brian passed with flying colors. He was polite, considerate, friendly -- and totally uninterested. Both Denise and Cheryl gave it their best in two contacts each. In fact, they both indicated to me that if they had been able to get Brian into a sexual relationship they gladly would have given up their careers in relationship testing. Considering those statements I think that you can assume that they gave it their all, because neither has said anything like that before."

I smiled broadly, but instantly was filled with guilt.

"Do you want to hear the recordings?" Mark asked.

"No thanks -- your verbal report is all that I need. Can I settle my bill in cash?" I replied.

"No problem," Mark smiled as I counted out my guilt-tainted money.

That night I resolved the myriad of conflicting ideas and emotions that had been wracking havoc on me for months. I knew what I needed to do. Brian deserved to be as happy as he possibly could be, I had no doubt of his undying love for me, and I wanted to show him how much I loved him.

The very next day, after I gave Brian the best blow job that I could muster and we cuddled as he thanked me profusely I hit him with my plan.

"Brian, you have no doubt that I love you with all my heart, do you?"

After giving me a perplexed look he said "Of course not; and you can't have any doubt about my love for you either, can you?"

"Absolutely no doubt," I replied. "It is because of our deep loving relationship that I need to ask you to do something for me; something that I need to make me happy."

"Sure, Julie -- you know that I want you to be happy."

"Brian -- I can't be happy knowing that you're not sexually satisfied. I want you to establish a sexual relationship, specifically including vaginal sex, with someone else."

He first laughed; then seeing no smile on my face he said "What, are you crazy. I don't need vaginal sex to be happy."

"Brian, I know you better than you know yourself. While I know that you would never cheat on me, it wouldn't be cheating. It would be the opposite -- it would be something that makes you happy that I can no longer do for you, and I'll never be happy unless you are." I tried to be stoic, but tears started falling at the end of my statement.

After a significant pause he responded "Julie, you'll be better someday -- I can wait; I don't want anyone except you."

"Be realistic, Brian; the chances of me getting better are slim and none. If I do get better, you can break it off. Think about it, but think about it not in the context of possibly hurting me, but in the context of making the person I love with all of my mind, body, and soul happy."

"I can tell you right now, no way -- you can put it out of your mind," he replied, a little more sternly than I expected.

I knew that would be his initial reaction, but I don't give up when I think I'm right about something. I never have, and certainly never would when the happiness of the person most important to me in the entire world is at stake. So every other day I brought up the subject again.

I was subtle, direct, forceful, joking, serious, pleading, persistent, but never, ever, nagging, and discussed it only when we were being as intimate as we could be. It took more than two months but one day after I had unintentionally flinched badly when he inadvertently came into contact with my pussy, followed by the best blowjob that I could give him, when I brought it up yet again he had a different response.




A Real "Loving Wife's" Tale



"You know you've brought this up for more than two months now, Julie -- but how could this possibly work without hurting our relationship?" he asked.

"Oh, darling -- please consider it. I'll write it out and have it on your desk tomorrow when you get home from work. When you see what I have in mind you'll know that it can't hurt 'US;' it can only make me happy and you fulfilled." I smiled broadly and then sucked on his testicles.

I made a point of being as cheery as possible the next morning and gave him a passionate kiss and crotch squeeze before he went to work. I had already prepared my "Rules of Engagement," but polished them and then put them in my own handwriting, and on his desk in the study. They read:

"Rules of Engagement

1. You are discrete and you can trust her (or "them" wherever "her" or "she" is indicated below) to be; this includes never telling anyone that we know about this arrangement;

2. She isn't presently married; 

3. She is tested for STDs since obviously condoms would defeat the purpose;

4. You never, for any reason, bring her into our house;

5. You never tell me anything about her, and in fact never even mention her;

6. You never tell me when or where you're meeting her. You don't have to give me a reason for being absent, whether it is for bowling league, poker, working late, going with the guys to a basketball game, or intercourse. Just tell me your schedule, not what event is being scheduled, and I'll never ask you about it; and

7. You can show her this document if you choose to.

Please do this for me -- for US -- I not only give my consent, but it is my sincere heart-felt wish that you do it.

With love, Julie."

I didn't bring up the subject again. Brian and I continued to have our normal loving interaction. About a week after I put the Rules of Engagement on his desk the document disappeared. By two weeks after that the glint was back in his eye.

I couldn't have predicted my reaction when the glint returned to his eye. I was both overjoyed and jealous at the same time. It was all that I could do to keep from trying to find out who it was. Knowing Brian, even though I had given him carte blanche to have more than one sexual partner, I knew that it would only be one, at least after a "trial" tryst.

Although I of course never knew for sure because I never inquired about Brian's whereabouts, after a couple of months I strongly suspected what his "schedule" was. Most likely he had intercourse twice a week, probably for a couple of hours each time. He never brought home any evidence of it, and was always ready to fuck my tits or get a blowjob if I ever indicated the mood for either.

After a couple of months I stopped trying to figure out the "who" or "when" or "how often." Brian's love for me came through loud and clear and I never doubted my decision. 

Ultimately I did find out the "who," basically by accident. I won't give details because part of it is embarrassing. I knew her only very tangentially. She was perfect for him.

I became even more comfortable with my decision after my last visit to my OB/GYN. While I still had two of my three original problems an even more serious one came up; whether it was brought on by the other conditions neither my doctor nor anyone she consulted with could determine. I had cancer, and likely only two months to live.

I'm going to tell Brian the prognosis tonight. I'm going to tell him that I hope that he can find love elsewhere after I'm gone, and that if he doesn't I'll haunt him (ha, ha). I will ask, however, that he wait at least six months before remarrying -- if that is the path that he takes.

I will go to my grave confident that I am a true "loving wife!"