Man is by nature, a fool to his Pride.
I thank my LadyCibelle and Techsan for their patience, proof reading, editing skills and of course their encouragement. As always I must also add, that I can never leave a story alone. I will most likely add some cock-ups on my read through after they have seen it. That should keep the GPs happy at least.
It was about three in the morning when I first realised that I had a serious problem on my hands. Since my wife Sandra was away, I'd been out with the boys the previous evening and tied a good one on. Now my bladder was insisting I get out of bed and relieve some of the pressure.
Getting out of bed, still not to steady on my feet I had managed to stub my toe on the bathroom door as I opened it. I let out a few curses; I had no need to worry about waking up Sandra. She was away at the bloody seminar her firm was running.
I hobbled into the bathroom and up to the bowl where I extracted my faithful friend from my trousers. Fuck, that was a good evening I'd had with boys, I hadn't even gotten undressed. Then it hit me. The burning pain as I peed. The old brain got to working and I recognised that feeling. Suddenly I wasn't pissed anymore. Oh, I was still actually pissing and feeling every damn fluid ounce as it came out. But now I was as sober as a Judge. I'd had this burning feeling before. A long time ago, but there are some things you never forget.
Years ago, it was about a month or so after I'd been to the Reading Pop Festival back in the sixties. You all know what it was like back then; there was none of this AIDS lark to worry about and the pill was around. Well, I'd picked up a dose from one of the birds I got it on with there. I stood there wondering which one it was this time, chlamydia or gonorrhea.
Now! Hang on just one bleeding minute. How the hell could I pick up an STD? I've been happily married for nearly ten years and although I must say I've had the offers and even been tempted on occasions, I've never been near another woman since I've been with Saaannndddrrraa!!!!!
I stopped pissing and started throwing up. Shit, Shit, Shit! Sandra, what the fucking hell have you done?
I met Sandra at work; well, her work really. I was giving the fire alarms in her office the once over. That's my bag; I install and service fire and burglar alarm systems. At the time I was working for some big outfit who had a lot of contracts in the City. For the City, read the "City Of London", the place where all those arsehole's earn lots of money by talking through their backside's and telling each other how clever they are.
Anyway I kinda took a shine to Sandra and she took a shine to me. I asked her out and she accepted. Things kinda snowballed from there really. Then next thing I know she's sharing my bed and six months later we were married.
Sandra sold her flat and I sold mine, then we bought ourselves a nice little semi-detached in Harrow, North West London. Not on the Hill where "Harrow School" is, but close enough to sound impressive. Look, like some of London's top bank robbers live there (when they are out of jail). Both Sandra and myself were earning good money, we figured we'd had the place paid off in a few years, so talk of children was put on the back burner for the time being.
For a couple of years, we led what was to become known as the Yuppie lifestyle and had ourselves a ball. Then some bugger - probably who worked in the City - decided to sell the company I was working for. The new owners didn't want the workers; they just wanted my employer's contracts so I was out of a job.
Sandra came up with the idea that I started up on my own. We did the maths and Sandra made a few phone calls. Christ, that girl can talk the hind legs off a bloody donkey. My garage was suddenly turned into a storeroom and I was self-employed.
Sandra would take a day off every so often and get on the phone. Before I knew it, I was employing some of my old colleagues. Then I had to rent a shop in a nearby parade and move the business in there as we had outgrown the garage. There was talk of Sandra working with me full time but that somehow never came to fruition. I was by this time, a pen pusher, and had the guys running around doing the work.
To be honest there was no need for Sandra to work anymore. She could have stayed home and had the children we had always talked about; but that didn't happen either. Sandra was climbing higher in her firm and all talk of children quietly ceased.
Now hold on, don't go getting the idea Sandra and me where drifting apart. Far from it, we were out together all the time. I was at all of the socials they had at her firm. And she was normally there at our once-a-month get together I had at my little company. Look, my guys have to work funny hours. That doesn't do much for the home life, to keep the wives sweet; once a month anyone who wasn't on-call was invited out for a meal and a bit of a knees-up with their spouses.
It was working out just fine, as I also had a policy of employing the guy's wives in the office. You know, keep it in the family. It worked out just great; we had the reputation as a company that could be relied on. Everyone was covering everyone else's arse, if you get the idea.
Now Sandra was off at this bloody seminar and I was pretty sure I had a dose of the clap. I might be a cynic. But I knew that the only place I could have got the clap was from my ever-loving wife.
The first thing I had to do was make sure I was right. Fairly easily done, in the morning I called in and told the girls I'd be late into the office, then headed for the clinic I had visited all those years ago.
A very nice West Indian nurse, after filling in some forms, took a swab and told me she would have the results for me on Tuesday. Then she asked me to make a list of all my sexual partners in the last few months. I told her there was only one, and that was my wife, she looked only slightly embarrassed as she told me she was "Sorry to hear that. But it wasn't the first time!" I thanked her and left.
At the office I tried to carry on as normal, but didn't really succeed. It was a unanimous decision by the staff that either I went home or they staged a mutiny. So I went home and got drunk; it was the best idea I could come up with at the time.
About four in the afternoon Sandra called and asked what was wrong. Apparently she had tried to call me at the office and they had told her they had sent me home. How the hell I spoke civilly to her, I don't know. But I just told her I wasn't feeling too good. She offered to come home from the seminar early. That was the last thing I wanted, so I told her I would be all right.
Tuesday I called the Clinic early but the results weren't available. My nurse called me back around twelve to tell me it was Chlamydia and that I would need a course of antibiotics. The AIDS test was going to take some time. So I went down to the clinic again to collect my pills. I was shown in to see a doctor this time and after a long chat he gave me a letter for Sandra asking her to go in for some tests.
After I left the clinic my mind was really in a state. There was only one way anyone gets Chlamydia, don't go believing all those stupid school kid stories. The only way you get it is by having sex with an infected person. So that meant Sandra had been playing away. She was cheating on me.
But why would she, and when? Did she really love me? She was always telling me she did. We had a good sex life; well, I wouldn't have the clap if we didn't.
All right forget that one. When was she cheating? Christ, she had all the opportunity in the world. Was she working all those times she came home late? I could only assume not.
Now let's look at this differently. Chlamydia has a three to four week incubation period; I was lucky, because sometimes the symptoms don't show at all. Now what happened in the last couple of months? Fuck, yes! That bloody conference in Manchester that Sandra went to. She was real uptight about it before she went. And she was upset about the changes that were going to happen in her company when she came back. She was funny with me for a couple of weeks after she came back and now I thought about it there had been something bugging her ever since. Was she upset about the firm or was something else on her mind?
That was around six weeks ago. I can only conclude that at that conference Sandra picked up Chlamydia. Sandra must have had someone there; correction, someone had her! Someone who was infected with Chlamydia!
Next problem, was my loving wife in the habit of shagging all and sundry behind my back?
I thought back. Were there times in the past when she behaved funny towards me. Yeah, there were plenty but she was in a very high powered job nowadays; I had always put her funny moods down to that. And if I'm honest, there were times when I've been just as funny with her when things had gotten heavy at the office. I think she had been a lot more patient with me than I had ever been with her when that happened.
Right, now forget all that. What the fuck was I going to do? I'm going to have to talk to her. Fuck, would I be able to do that? Look, I've got one hell of a bloody temper; would I be able to control myself? When it came down to it, I could only just control myself when we were talking on the phone. I really didn't think I dared trust myself in a confrontation with Sandra. I could really lose the plot.
.... There is more of this story ...