© 2002

I first met my wife Jane on the day I came home from college for the Christmas holidays. I hadn't felt homesick but when I was back I realised how much I had missed the place. When I came across Jane sitting in the park as I strolled around the town, my heart almost stopped. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I walked around the park for a while until eventually I built up the courage to go and talk to her. She was new in town, lived with her parents and didn't know anybody. I asked her for a date that evening and I was overjoyed when she said yes. We saw each other almost every day for the next three weeks. We would drive around, go the cinema, park in a driveway and fool around a little. But whenever I tried to go further with her she told me it was bad, that we shouldn't do those things. I come from a very religious background and I respected her values, even though I felt this incredible lust for her body.

On the day I had to go back to college we met one last time. Both of us cried as we said our goodbyes and I knew that I had to see her again, that it was more than just a brief fling. We wrote to each other three or four times a week over the coming months and I couldn't wait for the spring break so I could return home. When I saw her again she was more beautiful than ever. I had had sex with a few girls before but I didn't try to pressure Jane to go all the way with me. She was my little angel.

Whenever another guy so much as looked at her I would get all eaten up inside, and sometimes I would lash out at my perceived rivals. Jane would get very upset at this and tell me not to act so crazy. She constantly reassured me that she loved me and that she wasn't interested in anyone else, but I was permanently on edge. To get a little extra money I was working the late shift at my Uncle's store at the weekend, but I always made sure I saw Jane every night during the week. When the time came for me to go back to college I was very unhappy. I wanted to spend all my time with Jane. The next few months were the longest of my life and I knew that I couldn't go on this way, not being able to see her during term time. She was the most beautiful girl in the world and I loved her with all my heart.

In the summer we picked up where we had left off. I now had three months in which I could see her every day, but I knew it would never be enough. One day, six weeks into the summer break I drove her to the top of a hill looking over our town. This was the spot where we had first made out. I helped her out of the car and walked with her towards a clearing in the bushes. Then I got down on one knee, and asked her to marry me. She looked at me, tears brimming in her eyes, and for a second or two I felt that my heart was going to shatter. Then she took me in her arms, held me tightly and said, "Yes. Oh Nick. Yes, I'll marry you." I pulled the jewellery box from my pocket, opened it up and took out the ring then slipped it on her finger.

When I told my parents that I had decided to quit college and marry Jane they were very angry but eventually they saw that it was my own decision to make and I lived with them while I began working full time at my Uncle Alfred's store. In October we were married. It was a small ceremony. Nobody from her side of the family came to the wedding. Her father had died when she was seventeen and her mother had refused to bless our union, saying that it was a damn stupid idea getting married so young, that the pair of us should be out sowing our wild oats, not settling down like some boring middle-aged couple.

I had already heard that when Jane's father was alive, her mother had had a long succession of lovers, many of whom she would let in the house when he was out working. Jane could often hear her mother fucking them in the bedroom. The neighbours knew all about her shenanigans and it wasn't long before Jane's father cottoned on. He did nothing to curb his wife's behaviour however. He simply let things carry on as they were, although he did start to drink heavily, very heavily. According to Jane, he drank himself to death. Later on I came to realise that this must have been the reason my wife so abhorred adultery and wanton behaviour. She blamed it for her father's death. She also had no time for drunks and she abstained from alcohol completely. I had thought beforehand that her strong moral values were because she was religious, like my parents, but she never went to church, even at Christmas.

We didn't have too much money, only my earnings from the store and Jane's pay from the restaurant she worked at as a waitress, but we soon had enough to rent a small one bed-roomed apartment. It wasn't much, but I knew that Jane was just happy to get out of her mother's house. She hadn't changed any since her husband died, and some of the more unkind neighbours had taken to calling her house 'the Bordello'.

Things were going pretty well at home. We made love almost every night. I wanted to try to get her to try new things, new positions, all sorts of things, but I couldn't build up the courage to ask her. I thought she might find the idea disgusting. We always made love silently, at night, with the lights off. I won't say I was bored or unhappy with our sex life, but I used to wonder if it would be this way for the whole of our lives together.

After a couple of years I had managed to turn my Uncle's business around, so much so that he had doubled my wages. With the money coming in from Jane's job at the restaurant we now had enough to put a down payment on a two bed-roomed house. My Uncle persuaded me that we should have a house warming party. I liked the idea, but Jane wasn't so sure. We had never had guests at the apartment and she was a little nervous about acting as hostess. Eventually she agreed to it, saying that it would make her feel that it was really her home.

On the night of the party, Jane wore a fabulous red dress, accentuating her lovely curves. She looked simply stunning, and I told her so. She began to voice concerns that it was too tight and might make the wrong impression, but I told her to just stop worrying and enjoy herself. She was my little angel and she looked wonderful.

We had invited most of our friends as well as many of our new neighbours. The party was going really well and I had seen to it that everybody's drink was always filled up. To my surprise Jane seemed to be drinking as much as everyone else, maybe more. This was the first time I had seen her drink anything alcoholic at all. I told her a number of times that she should be careful not to have too much, but she told me she was so nervous that she needed it.

Once or twice I saw her stumble but one guy or another would be there to give her a hand. A couple of times I saw hands reach around her hips, ostensibly to steady her, but I was sure they were trying to cop a feel at the same time. Soon it became apparent that Jane was flirting with all the men at the party. I had never seen my wife act this way before. I was getting a little worried about her, but I thought if it would be best if I didn't cause a scene. We had the new neighbours around, as well as some of my family. I didn't want to act like some domineering husband, keeping his wife in check.

During the party we had both been acting the good hosts, and most of the time we were separated from each other. Around midnight the people started getting ready to leave and wanted to say goodbye to both of us. I looked around for Jane but I couldn't see her anywhere. I thought back and realised that I hadn't seen her for at least twenty minutes. After searching around upstairs, I quickly went out to the garden to look around for her, worried that she might have been sick from all the alcohol she had drunk.

When I passed the garage I heard noises coming from inside. I looked through the dusty window at the side and saw my wife standing there with Mike Cochran. He was a guy I went to high school with who always caused trouble wherever he went. I hadn't even invited him to the party. He had just turned up with two of my other friends and there was no way I couldn't have let him in, much as I disliked him. One of his hands was pressing against her ass while his face was buried in her neck and I knew he was kissing her.

"Stop it," she said, pushing him away. Her voice was slurred and she could hardly stand up straight. "You're bad."

Suddenly she giggled and almost fell back against the work desk. Cochran grabbed hold of her by the hips and drew her to him.

"Come on baby. I know you want it," he said, pawing at her breast. He undid the top two buttons of her dress and put his hand inside.

"Umm. You... you shouldn't be in here. Doing naughty things. You're so bad."

She giggled again and stepped back from him, until her ass rested against the desk. Cochran approached her and lifted her dress up from the front, up around her waist, exposing her red, silk panties.

"Let's not waste any more time," he said.

Jane looked at him from under her eyelashes then suddenly she leant back, raising her knees up high to lay her feet on the edge of the desk. Her legs were open, spread before him.

A raging torrent of emotions flooded through me. Ever since I had been at the window I hadn't been able to fully grasp what I was seeing. It just didn't seem possible. My wife would never do anything like this, never allow someone to do this to her. Now, as I saw him grip her panties by the sides, ready to pull them down so he could have access to her pussy, it was as if I had suddenly woken from a dream. I wanted to rush in there, grab Cochran and beat the shit out of him. Then I thought about the scandal it might cause. All our new neighbours were here. It would be the talk of the town. My wife would get a reputation, just like her mother, and I knew she wasn't really like this. She was just drunk and this man was taking advantage of her. I decided that I would be better off getting my revenge on him another time, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let him carry on. I quickly ran to the back door and called my wife's name.

"Jane! Are you out here? Our guests are leaving now," I shouted, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible. "Jane! Are you in the garage?"

For a few moments there was no answer and I wondered whether they were doing it, whether he had stuck his cock in my wife and was fucking her right now. I called her name again, louder this time. I suddenly heard frantic voices inside. Cochran was telling her to go outside. I could hear Jane arguing with him.

A few moments later Jane's face peered out. When she saw that I was standing by the house she quickly came out of the garage, shutting the door behind her. She could hardly walk, but she made the effort to come towards me. I figured that she didn't want me going anywhere near where she had just come from in case I saw that Cochran had been in there with her.

"Where've you been?" I asked, trying to keep the anger out of my voice. I didn't want her to know what I had just seen.

"In there," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "I was..."

"Never mind," I interrupted. I would get to the bottom of this later. "Let's go and say goodbye to our guests."

By now, most people had their coats on and were ready to leave. Jane and I stood by the door sending them all on their way. Cochran was one of the last to leave. He smiled at Jane and kissed her on the cheek.

"Great party, man," he said to me. "You got to do it again sometime."

I resisted the urge to knock his teeth out and wished him a good weekend. I would deal with him later. When everyone had gone we walked through into the front room. Jane turned to face me, a strange look in her eyes. I thought she was about to confess everything that had happened in the garage, but she didn't. She placed her hands on my chest and felt along my body, her hands moving down until they had reached my crotch. She had never been this forward with me before, had never initiated lovemaking.

Conflicting emotions tore through me. Should I tell her that I saw what she and Cochran had done? Try to force a confession out of her? Or should I wait until the morning? She was standing here in front of me, acting hornier than I had ever known her. I put my arms around her. My hand trailed along her hip and I suddenly noticed that she wasn't wearing her panties underneath the dress. Cochran must have managed to take them off before Jane had come out of the garage. I wondered if he had taken his dick out, if she had seen it. My cock grew erect at the thought and I pressed myself against her belly. She noticed immediately.

"Well, hello," she said. "Looks like you're primed and ready for action. Are you going to give me some of that, or are you going to make me beg for it?"

I had never heard her talk that way before. I dragged her over to the couch and lay her down before me as I pulled down my jeans. I lifted her dress up around her hips and gazed at her naked pussy. I pushed my cock deep inside her, feeling it go in all the way. She was very wet. I began to wonder how much could have happened in the time I had been away from the window before she came out of the garage. Would Cochran have had time to stick his prick inside her?

"Oh, Nick. I love you," Jane whispered as her hips rose to meet my thrusts. "I love feeling you inside me."

I pounded into her hard, harder than usual, imagining all the time that I was Cochran, that it was another man fucking my wife.

"Oh yes. Harder, baby. Oh God. That feels so good."

As I thrust in and out of her she began to moan, louder than I'd ever heard her. She began a litany of four letter words, something she had never done before.

"Yes, fuck me. Fuck my cunt. Oh, baby. I love your cock. Do it to me. Oh you're bad, you're so bad."

I remembered her saying the same thing to Cochran and I instantly came, exploding inside her as her body writhed beneath mine, moaning ecstatically as she felt my sperm fill her up. After I had pulled out of her, she sat up and kissed me deeply, telling me how much she loved me. Then she bent down and took my limp cock in her mouth. She began sucking on it, gently at first, then harder and harder until it was fully erect. She stood up, taking hold of my prick and led me up the stairs to the bedroom, where we spent the night making love for hours. She was insatiable.

The following day was a Saturday and I had to go in early to open up the store, so I left Jane to sleep while I got ready to leave. The instant I had woken up the image had come into my mind of what I had seen in the window the night before. I was to see that same image all day as I wondered how to broach the subject with Jane that evening. I kept giving customers at the store the wrong change all the time. I couldn't concentrate at all and I had to blame it on a hangover and lack of sleep, whenever anyone asked me what was up with me.

That night Jane had dinner waiting on the table when I returned. She wore an apron, tied around her waist, but quickly took it off after I walked in the door. She had looked just like my mother used to when I was small. Suddenly I couldn't confront her at all. I didn't want her to tell me what had happened, or why. I just wanted us to carry on as we were. I loved her too much to want to rock the boat in any way. Jane must have had a bad hangover in the morning, but she seemed to be in good spirits now, although I had the feeling she was waiting for something, perhaps for me to talk about last night. Even if she didn't know what I had seen, she must have wondered how I would react to the way she had behaved with me. Fucking all night, using dirty words, sucking my cock, all the things that she had never done before. I finally decided that the best thing to do would be to pretend that none of it ever happened, to brush it all under the carpet.

That night we made love in the usual way, in the missionary position, with the lights off. The difference this time was that as I mounted her I began to fantasise about what I had seen in the garage. I even found myself wishing that I had let them go further before I interrupted. I began to picture what it would have looked like, Cochran fucking my wife on the desk in my garage, as I watched through the window. I soon came deep inside her, imagining that it was him that was doing it to her, not me. Afterwards I felt very guilty, as if I had been committing adultery myself, but the next few nights I found myself doing the same thing every time we made love.

About a week after the party I was walking with Jane in the town shopping centre when I suddenly saw Mike Cochran in the distance heading towards us. I quickly turned to my wife and told her that I had left my wallet in the car and that she should carry on and meet me at the bookstore later. When she had walked on a little I doubled back and hid behind a large ornament in the centre of the precinct. I wanted to see how she'd react when Cochran came across her and I wasn't around.

I saw him grin broadly when he saw her. As he approached he began talking to her. I couldn't hear what he said but it was clear that my wife had cut him dead, ignoring him completely as she walked on. I don't think she even recognised him. I knew then that she wasn't interested in him, that it really had been just the alcohol, and that it was unlikely to ever happen again.

That night, when we made love, I found myself fantasising again. Not about Cochran fucking my wife this time, but other men. Other men at the party, people I met at the store, anyone. For weeks it was the same story, I would pump my cock inside her, pretending to myself that I was the postman or a neighbour, anyone at all. It was becoming an obsession. At the store, whenever anyone asked me how Jane was I imagined they were smirking at me, that the whole town knew she was a slut, and that they all hid it from me. It got so I almost believed my fantasies. Sometimes I thought I had imagined overhearing people talking about her, the way she behaved.

Gradually over the next few years these fantasies became less frequent. I put it to the back of my mind. It was just a drunken, youthful indiscretion that I had blown out of all proportion. As for our sex lives, well, it was okay. I still loved doing it to her. She was gorgeous, with a great figure. Money-wise, things were going well. My Uncle had made me General Manager of his store, Jane was doing a secretarial course at night school and had a job lined up in the local car showroom. We were settling down to a life of married bliss. We even began talking about having children sometime in the future. Everything was going very smoothly, if a little dull, until one night in May.

I usually gave Jane a lift home from her night school, picking her up outside the college at 10pm. On the last day of the course Jane called home to tell me that they were all going for a celebratory drink at Koala's, a bar nearby. She said she wasn't going to have a drink herself, but she thought she ought to go along anyway. I asked her what she wanted me to do and she told me that her friend Lily would give her a lift home and that she'd be back by midnight.

By about 11pm I was bored waiting at home for her, so I decided I would go there myself to pick her up and save Lily the extra journey, as she lived in the opposite direction. I wouldn't embarrass her by going into the bar. I didn't want to make it look like I was keeping tabs on her. I would just wait outside until I saw her come out. It was a twenty-minute drive and I had only been sitting in the car in the street outside the bar for ten minutes when I saw Jane walk outside. She looked a little unsteady on her feet and I knew instantly that she was drunk. I was very surprised to see this, but I know how hard it is to not drink when everyone around you is. I figured that they must have persuaded her to let her hair down. I was surprised that Lily wasn't with her, but I thought she might have only gone outside to get some air.

I opened the car door and was about to get out to cross the road to see if she was okay, when I saw a man follow her out of the bar. He called her by name and I figured he must have been someone from the college who knew her. He was in his late thirties, with a week's stubble on his chin, and looked like he might be a teacher. They tend to look pretty down at heel these days. They stood talking for a minute or so, the man's hand on my wife's shoulder, steadying her as she swayed in the evening breeze. He put his arm around her and led her down the side alley next to the bar. I got out of my car and shouted her name, but they didn't seem to hear me. I crossed the road, heading for the alley. I figured that he was walking her to his car to drive her home. Perhaps Lily had left early. Jane was obviously in no fit state to make it home on her own.

The alley was very darkly lit, but I knew that it led directly onto the college car park so I walked swiftly along, hoping to catch them up. Suddenly I felt myself tread on something and a cat screeched loudly. I jumped back against a narrow doorway not knowing what had happened for a second. All I could see were a pair of cat's eyes staring at me. Then it hissed at me fiercely and scrambled off into the night. I must have stamped on its tail.

"What was that?" I heard a voice whisper further down the alley.

I stayed where I was in the shadows, looking towards the end of the alley. It was very dark but I could see two figures quite clearly. A woman was standing, her back against the wall, one leg raised high and with her skirt up around her waist. Her panties were hanging from the ankle of her outstretched leg. The man was pressed up against her, one hand holding up her leg while he used the other to guide his cock inside her. The woman cried out when she felt him enter her. It wasn't until that moment that I realised it was my wife. I quickly ran towards them, as fast as I could.

When the man saw me he coming he ran off, leaving Jane standing there against the wall. I thought about chasing after him, but I wanted to make sure my wife was all right first. I stepped closer towards her and suddenly she grabbed hold of me.

"Where'd he go?" She asked, her voice slurred. "Never mind. You'll do."

She reached out to my groin and grabbed my balls.

"Come on," she said. "Take it out. Take it out and fuck me."

I couldn't believe the way my wife was acting like such a whore. I felt myself get an erection as she unzipped my jeans and ran her fingers down my shaft. I was about to speak when I suddenly realised that she had no idea who I was. In her drunken state and the dark of the alleyway I was a complete stranger to her. She just wanted me to fuck her, anyone to fuck her. She pulled my cock out from my jeans then raised one leg high up over my hip.

"Go on stick it in me. I want to feel your cock inside me."

My cock felt bigger than it ever had before, I was so aroused. I pushed it against her pussy lips and found that her entrance was sopping wet. I entered her quickly, slamming her against the wall.

"That's it. Fuck me hard. Come on."

I wasted no time thrusting in and out of her as fast as I could. My hands reached around to grab the cheeks of her ass as she pulled up both her legs and wrapped them round my back. She wanted me deeper inside her, as deep as I could go. She opened up her blouse to free her tits to the open air then began squeezing them, playing with her nipples, until I leaned my head down and began licking and sucking them, one after the other.

"Mmmm, yeah... Suck my tits... Come on... Treat me like a filthy whore... oooh... yes... harder... oooooh, God... You're going to come inside me, aren't you?"

A few moments later I felt my whole body stiffen as my cock started to pump inside her while she screamed with pleasure. When I had finished I quickly put my limp penis away as I watched my wife pull her panties back on and adjust her blouse.

"Thanks," she said. "See you around."

I watched her walk back up the alley the way we had came. I leaned back against the wall, unable to believe what had just happened. It was incredible, unbelievable. If I didn't know better I would have sworn that that woman wasn't my wife. The things she had said, the way she had acted. I followed her from a distance and watched her walk back into the bar. I ran across the street, back into my car and sat there.

I looked at my watch. It was ten minutes to midnight. I placed my hands on the steering wheel. They were shaking uncontrollably with the excitement. I waited there for a few minutes, trying to calm down, until I saw Lily and Jane step out of the bar and walk along the street. They must have been heading for their car. As soon as they were out of sight I turned on the ignition and drove home as fast as I could. I wanted to make sure I was back before them.

I heard Lily's car in the driveway a few minutes after I had got inside. I looked out the window, unsure how I would act when I saw my wife. I just didn't know how I could face her. Amazingly I felt guilty at what I had done, as if I was the one who had done something wrong. To my surprise, Lily got out of her car and rang my doorbell.

"Hi, Nick. Listen, I'm afraid Jane had too much to drink tonight. She's passed out in my car. You'd best give me a hand bringing her inside."

I followed her out and opened the passenger door. I shook her awake and she smiled at me then laughed.

"Hey, Nicky. What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice slurred.

"Jesus. You really are drunk, aren't you? We're home, honey. Let's get you inside. Come on."

Jane pulled one of her legs out of the car on to the pavement. Her skirt rose up high as she lifted her leg and the image of her standing up against the alley wall flashed through my mind. I lifted her under the arms and dragged her up to the bedroom with Lily's help. I lay her down on the bed and she promptly went back to sleep.

"What happened?" I asked Lily as we went back downstairs.

"Oh, you know. Just one too many. She's not used to the hard stuff. God, she was really wild," Lily started to laugh. "She should drink more often. But not that much, obviously."

"What do you mean, really wild?"

"Oh, you know," she said nervously. "Singing, dancing, that kind of thing."

I wanted to ask her to be more specific. I wanted to know if she knew what Jane had got up to in the alley, but she would never have told me so I let it go.

"Anyway, I'd better make a move. I hope she feels okay in the morning. See you later, Nick."

I went back to the bedroom and looked down at my wife, sleeping innocently. I undid her skirt and blouse and pulled them off then I did the same with her bra and panties, until she was naked before me. I spent the whole night sleeping beside her, reliving in my mind what I had seen in the alley and what I had done to her myself, hearing the way she talked, seeing the way she acted.

The next morning I asked Jane exactly what had happened the night before. She looked at me curiously and I wondered whether she had in fact known it was me that had fucked her in the alleyway. She said nothing for a few moments then eventually told me that she couldn't remember anything after entering the bar. She knew she had drunk some cocktails. She had protested at first but eventually gave in as everyone was drinking from the same pitcher and she didn't want the others to feel that she was being left out.

"Lily says you were really wild last night," I told her.

"Yeah? What did I do?"

"I don't know. You'd better ask her. She wouldn't tell me. She did say you should have a drink more often though."

"Oh I don't know if I should do that. It makes me go a bit out of control, I think. What do you reckon? Do you think it's bad if I drink like that?"

I didn't know what to say. It was obvious to me now. Whenever my wife had a drink she turned from a prim and proper lady into a complete slut. The complete personality change was unbelievable. I guess that most men might have forced their wives to see a psychiatrist or a doctor of some kind, but I figured that it might be better not to make a big deal out of it. She didn't seem aware of what she had done and as long as I could keep her away from alcohol there was no reason to think she would be anything but faithful for the rest of our lives. I decided to keep a close eye on her in future.

Six months later our anniversary came around and I had booked a table at a fancy restaurant out in the city. During the week, Jane's mother, Alice called and asked us to stop over at her house at the weekend, saying that she had a gift for us. Jane sometimes spoke to her mother on the phone, but she never allowed her into our house. I didn't know if this was for my benefit, but I wasn't bothered either way. I had known from an early age, via television, that in-laws were to be avoided at all costs. I had only seen her two or three times since the wedding, and that was okay by me.

We arrived at Alice's house late in the afternoon on Saturday. We planned on heading straight for the restaurant from there. Jane's mother opened the door for us, kissed us both on the cheek and invited us in. She sat us down on the couch and told us to make ourselves comfortable. She wore a very short skirt and a tight sweater, which accentuated her large chest. The clothes were too young for her, but she wore them well. She was still only in her early forties and I couldn't deny that she was a fine looking woman. I hoped that Jane would look as good in twenty years time. Jane wore a knee length, low cut black dress. It was the most figure hugging and revealing outfit she had and I knew she only wore it as a treat for me.