Ohne Douche
Chapter 1

Caution: This True Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Cheating, Cuckold, Cream Pie,

Desc: True Sex Story: Chapter 1 - This may be part 2 to Ohne Dich, or maybe an echo, a companion or a separate story. I will let the reader decide. I may do another part.

I was just taking the casting from the jig after I had machined it when I spotted him coming towards me. I cleaned of the dust and started to check my work with a micrometre when he walked up.

"That's what I like to see my boy." he said cheerfully, his hand briefly holding my arm before sliding his hand down it. He makes my skin crawl. "I've got some bad news for you son, I can't come to your wedding, I would love to," he grinned "but the wife's already committed us to another party." punctuated with a wink.

"Thank fuck for that." I thought, yes I have to work with him but I don't want to see him socially, I only asked because he overheard me ask Darren and Bob. I offered him the casting to check, as usual he made a meal of it, made a note on his clipboard as he said, lowering his voice and putting his head close to my head, too close. Why does he think garlic is a breath mint?

"Oh yeah, me an the ol' lady, we go to some really hot parties, if yer know what I mean?" he smarmed, again his sentence punctuated by that annoying wink, "Perhaps it's a tic?" I wondered as he turned and walked away. He looked at the clipboard, tucked it back under his arm and marched off, swinging his arm like he was on parade.

I smiled as I watched him walk away I knew he was lying. Darren came over from his workstation.

What did Whinger want?" he asked

"Nothing much, just to tell me he and his wife couldn't come to my wedding." I grinned at him shaking my head.

"He really thinks nobody knows doesn't he?" Darren asked

I nodded and started putting a new casting in the jig. "We can slag him off later." I laughed.

"Yeah." he laughed going back to his work station.

We worked out the rest of the day and as soon as I was home I showered and got dressed up for my stag night. Mum dished me up a couple of bacon butties, I had to change my shirt after eating them. I had only just done that when Titch pulled up outside with a minibus full of reprobates and beer.

Titch drove buses, so he was able to hire this one cheap, it had only cost us twenty five quid each, fuel included. Not bad for a two day hire. So there we were, off to Brighton for two drunken nights in some of their pubs and clubs. We started with a pub crawl, the first one we hit was, I think the Queens something or other, head, arms backside or whatever, opposite the station. Titch dropped us off outside it, and went off to park the bus up at the B&B we were staying at. Hopefully he would book us in as well.

It's not my fault he doesn't drink, and it's nice he likes driving. The next pub was tucked away round a couple of corners, but really busy. It was called something like the Evening Star. One thing you can say about Brighton many real ales and quality ciders are available, tonight for me was going to be a cider night. We then headed, by mistake into the gay quarter as it's known, we all could've pulled within ten minutes. I actually think Chas might have taken a walk on the wild side if he wasn't surrounded by witnesses. He did spend all his time in one pub talking to a couple of quite passable Trannies. I must admit it is an interesting experience being chatted up by a member of the same sex. Interesting, but not threatening. Even Derek seemed to manage not to get upset about it, and he's a real homophobe. We did get a frosty, bordering on hostile reception in a bar that had mostly lesbian clientèle.

We had some giggles with others we met. Others like us, that were also on stag or hen nights, but mostly the jokes and banter were kept amongst our group. That was until we found ourselves, for the second time with a bunch of girls we had met earlier. Both groups had twenty people, tell a lie we only had nineteen Titch hadn't come to find us. We were all about the same ages, except one. One of the girls was a woman, I mean she was older and she had got my attention earlier.

No I didn't want to pick her up, or anyone. It's just she looked familiar, I was sure I had seen her before. If not her then her face, maybe a picture I had seen a few years ago. If it was the face I remembered, it was a while back, she looked older now.

My mates, and the Hens girlfriends, were trying to get us to have a dance and a snog. We had the dance, but both of us really didn't want to get into anymore. Why the fuck should we, we were both getting married to the people we love in a weeks time. We had our dance and sat down to chat, we were joined by the "older" woman.

She was truly beautiful. Long dark hair, full red lips, tall and slim. As I said, I did not want to do anything to betray Karen, but if I did she was the only one I had seen tonight that could even tempt me.

"Hi I'm Mike," I offered my hand.

"I am Cheryl, you already have met my niece Samantha." she smiled as she spoke. We got talking, so were the others so we ended up spending the rest of the night there. Cheryl led the conversation, at first comparing the situation Sam and I were in, what our fiancées were like when I told them where I lived I could tell Cheryl would have been happier if I had been from somewhere else. When we got to jobs and I told her where I worked, there was definitely something there. She guided the conversation back to Samantha and tried to keep it there.

I excused myself and headed to the toilet, it was only then I noticed my fellow stags, and the hens had all sloped off together; leaving me with the two ladies. As I stood peeing, I was thinking over what had been said. As I was trying to work out what was up with Cheryl, I realised, all she had volunteered about herself was her first name and that she did not live in the same town (Basingstoke) as Sam. I zipped up and returned, half expecting them to have deserted me and was not surprised to find our seats empty.

"Cheers guys, great stag night." I said to myself, then I was tapped on the back, I turned and it was Cheryl, holding out a pint of cider to me.

"Sam's gone to the loo." she informed me, the smile was back. I smiled too, the cider and the sheer fact I hadn't been totally abandoned gave me a boost. Taking the bull by the horns as we sat down I asked her why she had been avoiding talking about herself.

"Lots of reasons, ones that don't only affect me. Can we just leave it at that." she said, I reluctantly agreed. Just then Sam returned, I must have been spending too much of my attention on Cheryl, it was only then that I noticed how pissed she was. She sat down with a thump next to me and leant her head on my shoulder.

"Where are you staying?" I asked Cheryl. "Perhaps Sam should go lie down."

Cheryl gave me that look again, the one that appeared when it seemed she didn't want to admit to something, the one she used whenever I had spoken about work or home. I made a guess.

"You're staying at yours aren't you? You live locally." I was rewarded with a guilty blush.

"Let's get her back to your place, don't worry I won't have a clue where I am going, and even if I did, your secret is safe with me." I said, trying to reassure her.

Cheryl looked at me and Sam and back to me again. "No you are alright I can man..." she was interrupted by Sam leaning down and vomiting in my lap. I held her head out of the puddle of warm greasy liquid as she regurgitated the contents of her stomach with easy convulsions. It was obvious her last meal had involved chips and sweetcorn.

Cheryl and I looked at each other without speaking, I imagine I looked as horrified as she did.

"Right, out you three." We turned to the voice, the landlord was stood, pointing at the door. "Now" he shouted.

Cheryl rose and together helped an almost unconscious Samantha to her feet, accompanied by the sound of the contents of my lap falling to the floor. We looked at each other and giggled, as we staggered to the door, a few customers looking at us with disgust.

"I think I can manage now." Cheryl told me, but as soon as I released Sam, she fell to the floor. I helped her up again.

The three of us staggered down the hill toward the sea front and hailed a taxi, we had to promise the driver an extra twenty quid to take us, mercenary bastard.

Brighton itself is only a small part of the metropolis that people living outside Brighton call Brighton. It is a collection of towns that have grown together and merged, each little piece, retaining it's own identity, I found we were heading to Southwick.

All the windows in the cab were open as the smell emanating from my lap was disgusting. We got to our destination in about 15 minutes.

"Cheryl paid the driver as I helped Sam out of the car, she was now awake, but as soon as she was on the street she heaved again. Cheryl opened her door as I struggled with her niece toward the door, as soon as it was open, Cheryl ducked under her other arm and we helped her through the door.

"In there." Cheryl said gesturing toward a door with a nod of her head. I opened the door, it was a toilet, Sam dived to the bowl and heaved again.

"I'll get her some water, then we'll see about getting you cleaned up." Cheryl said and headed through an open door to what was obviously a kitchen, she returned with a glass of water. Sam took it from her with a mumbled "thanks auntie Cher."

Auntie Cher was looking at me with a mischievous smile on her face. "If you aren't going commando, get your kecks off and I will sling them in the washer." I did as she requested and was soon stood in front of her in my boxers, holding out my trousers to her.

"You can go shower in there," she said pointing to a door. "If you pass all your other clothes through the door I'll sling them in the wash too, you will find a towel big enough to retain your modesty" she said with a giggle.

I took her up on her offer and as I showered, I began to worry, Karen would not be happy with this situation, even though it was completely innocent. Wasn't it?

I dried myself off and wrapped myself in a towel. I was glad it was a large bath sheet. I not only wanted to protect my modesty, but my fidelity as well.

When I exited the bathroom, I found Cheryl had got Sam undressed to her bra and panties, as soon as I was out of the way Cheryl led her to the bathroom and closed the door, at least she was walking under her own steam now.

"Go through to the lounge." Cheryl called through the door. "Fix yourself a drink, can you pour me a Glen please."

I found the lounge, over in one corner was an antique table with bottles and glasses on a silver tray. I looked through the selection of spirits, the only Glen I could see was some 21 year old Glen Livit. I poured two glasses. And sat down on a chair.

The room was tastefully decorated, not particularly girly, but definitely not a man's place. I looked around the room from my seat. Then I saw a picture on the sideboard, a picture with two girls, I now knew where I had seen her before. I knew who she was. I decided I was not going to let her know that I knew. She wanted to keep her secrets, and she was entitled to.

I heard them come out of the bathroom. "Stay where you are." Cheryl called out.

I stayed put and was soon joined by my host. She had changed into a Tee shirt and slacks.

"Thanks for all your help," she said. Sorry about, well, everything. Your clothes should be washed and dried in about an hour or so if you need to get away. If you don't, you can crash in my bed."

I must have looked either petrified or shocked, perhaps both. "Oh no. Sorry, I will slip in with Sam. So you don't have to worry, I haven't brought you here to satisfy my carnal desires." she added in a hurry, looking embarrassed.

We had a moment, a long moment of an awkward silence. I mumbled "this Glens nice" with that she drained her glass and took mine and refilled it. I looked at the quantity in the glass and said. "Looks like your bed it is." I smiled as I said it. "Be gentle with me please."

"You wish" she giggled. Then we just started chatting. After that momentary awkwardness, I found her easy to talk to. She was happy to tell me about her life in Brighton and I didn't venture into her previous life. That changed when she started talking about her love life, or lack of it more to the point.

Her lover had died a couple of years ago and in a nutshell, even though it was his dying wish that she find herself someone to be a good companion and look after her, no one could come close.

"To be honest the best option I have is my ex..." She stopped as she realised what she had said and emptied her glass.

I chose to let her keep her secret, I said nothing as she wobbled over to refill her glass.

"You know who he is don't you?" she asked.

"I think I could hazard a guess, but I wasn't going to ask."

"You," she said pointing a finger at me. "You are a good man, I think you could be the one."

"Oh fuck" I thought.

"But you already have someone, and you're about fifteen years too young." she slurred and staggered toward me. She sat on the arm of my chair and leaned against me. "But you'll do for a roll in the hay." and she slide onto my lap and kissed me.

I didn't push her away, but I didn't respond either, when she noticed I wasn't kissing her back she pulled away.

"What's wrong?" she slurred. "Am I past it, too old and ugly for you?"

"Too old, too ugly?" I was incredulous. "How can you say that? If I were single, well I would have been trying to bed you since we met, but I am not single. And you, my lady, are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met." I said trying to reassure her.

"There you go again, you just can't help being nice can you?" she said, tears were beginning to flow.

I held her, my panicking mind sobering up fast.

"It's not about being nice, it's about being truthful and believe me. When I say something, especially when you know I am right, You really are beautiful." I told her, and I meant it too. She snuggled into me, sobbing quietly into my neck. I wrapped my arms around her as I tried to work out an escape plan.

I am not sure how long we sat like that before gentle snore began coming from her. I smiled both with pleasure at the soothing sound, and relief that she now was less likely to make me satisfy her carnal desires, as she had put it earlier.

I heard the washer finish it's cycle, from then on the only sound I could hear was the soothing sound of Cheryl's light snores, I soon joined her in slumber.

When I awoke I could hear someone bustling around in the kitchen. I needed to pee, and as I rose from the chair my body complained. No matter how comfy it is to sit in, sleeping upright in a chair is not good. How long my lap had been vacant I do not know. After I had completed my ablutions I wrapped the towel back around myself and walked into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry." were the first words out of Cheryls mouth.

"No worries." I answered. "Can I get my clothes now?"

She looked at me, her eyes wide with fear.

"Don't worry, we didn't do anything we shouldn't have. You were a perfect gentleman." I said trying to inject a little humour into a difficult situation.

She had a blank expression for a second then I think she remembered last nights events or at least a few more pieces.

"They, they're in the washing machine, s, sorry. I'll tumble them now." she said with embarrassment as she started to transfer my clothes. "You must think I am a terrible woman."

I grabbed her by the shoulders as she stood. "Listen Cheryl, stop running yourself down and stop telling me what I think. I do not think you are a terrible woman, and for the umpteenth time, before you try to tell me again. I do not think you are too old, nor do I think you are the slightest bit ugly."

She looked up to my face and smiled. The tear stains and smudged make up did nothing to reduce her good looks, if anything they added an attractive quirkiness to her.

I felt something brush downwards on my legs, as it passed my knees I heard a scream behind me. I dropped to the floor, clutching for the towel that had chosen that second to abandon my modesty to the wind.

Sam was screaming behind me, Cheryl was laughing in front of me, neither sound was easy on my banging head or my growing embarrassment.

Sam stopped screaming and joined her aunt in laughing at my misfortune, I recovered enough to say.

"Thanks girls, you have no idea how much of an ego boost it is for a man to have two women pissing themselves at him when he is naked." Of course that made them laugh harder.

I wrapped the towel around me again and stood blushing.

"It's the situation not you we're laughing at, numpty. Cheryl said. "Besides from what I just saw your fiancée is going to have no complaints, that's nothing to laugh about at all."

"Auntie, behave." squealed Sam.

"Any chance of a cuppa?" I asked "I have a real case of birdcage mouth."

Sam poured me an orange juice and as she passed it to me she implored. "Tell me I didn't throw up in your lap."

"Okay, you didn't throw up in my lap." I smiled at her.

"Yes you bloody well did." Cheryl said with mock castigation. Then to me. "Milk and sugar?"

"And aspirin, please." I answered, at the same time Sam was saying sorry. "Don't you start." I said to Sam. Are all the women in your family eternally apologetic? Buggar me, everyone is entitled to make a twat of themselves every now and then, even more so when you are pissed. They both hesitantly nodded. I noticed my wallet and phone with a good handful of shrapnel, that's coins to the uneducated, on the side. Cheryl saw me looking and verified it was all mine. I checked my phone, several texts asking where I was from various people, I returned the texts, telling them I was alive and would meet them later if they let me know where they will be.

We drank our tea quietly, our hangovers stifling our attempts at conversation.

"I think we need breakfast." suggested Cheryl, I looked down at my towel. "When you are dressed." she smiled.

I nodded and smiled back. Half hour later we were in Cheryls car heading to a cafe that apparently did a good breakfast.

She drove us into an industrial estate, so I thought we were headed to a greasy Joe type café. I was wrong.

It was an up-market café, by day, Bistro by night. Very clean, and a fairly full dining area.

I ordered myself a full English, my companions had those French puff pastries, croissants. The food wasn't quick in coming, but was worth it when it did.

Both Sam's and my phones were receiving incessant texts, apparently Sam should have stayed with her girlfriends last night, but they guessed she had gone off with her aunt. A few of her friends and mine asked how we got on last night, nudge nudge, wink wink. Eventually we met up with the others back at the Evening Star around five.

It was amusing watching the awkwardness that of some of our individual parties had with each other. They, of course being the ones that had got it on together last night. I did find out Chas had disappeared last night and apart from a text to Titch saying he was ok, nobody had heard from him since. I had my suspicions as to where, or at least who he was with, but that is his business.

We started to talk about food and Cheryl recommended a small Chinese restaurant that was literally around the corner, about midway between the first two pubs we had hit last night. Come to think of it, I remembered walking past a large group of Chinese men smoking cigarettes in the street last night.

She guided us around, and as was the case last night, there were many Chinese men. Both outside and inside the restaurant, it did not look like they would be able to seat us all. I was glad, to be honest it looked a bit of a dive. Cheryl walked in and spoke to a man sitting at a table with four others. There was some sort of cooking apparatus on the table he and the other men were dipping, I assume cooking, things from a tray. He nodded several times as she spoke, I saw him say something Cheryl appeared to be thanking him and she came out smiling.

Han has asked if we could go have a drink somewhere and he will have space for us in half an hour. We walked up to the Queens Head and had a drink in there, before returning to a deserted restaurant, save for Han and his fellow diners.

The Famous Sichuan was the name of the place and it has ruined Chinese food for me. Cheryl's recommendation was richly deserved. To say the food was exquisite is down playing it, if I know anyone going to Brighton now, I tell them to make sure they check it out.

The owner ordered a beer for everyone. All thirty eight of us, about halfway through our meal. We were shocked when we finished up and were ready to pay. We had basically ordered the set meal for eight, for all of us, most of us thought they had thrown in a couple of extra courses. According to the menu, we had expected to pay about twenty pounds each, possibly more. The total bill was four hundred and twenty pounds. A tad over eleven quid each, we couldn't believe it was that little, the beer we drank must have been at least a hundred and fifty. We all chipped in the expected twenty quid apiece, we all felt it was worth it. Han, the owner insisted we had another beer each. It was gone ten by the time people started to move.

I am not sure how it happened but somehow Cheryl and I got separated and lost our groups, I was reaching for my phone to find out where everyone was and she stayed my hand.

"Colin, would you mind if we stayed away from the bedlam. I am enjoying your company and would rather talk than shout over loud music in the club they have gone to." She asked with that smile, how could I refuse?

She then took me into the gay quarter, when I mentioned I was apprehensive she chided me, and took me into a pub.

I would never have guessed it was a gay pub. It was a real spit and sawdust place, apart from being spotlessly clean. You know the sort of place old wood everywhere, bare floorboards, but everthing was polished and clean. The clientèle were all big burly bearded men, none of which would look out of place at a motorcycle convention.

We got some strange looks, Cheryl was the only woman in the place and I have to admit I was comfortable there, apart from when I had to go to the loo where I was understandably nervous.

A few drinks later she asked me. "You work with my ex, don't you?"

"Whinger." I nodded as I said it.

"Whinger, is that what you call him? She giggled. "I am not surprised. You have done well not to ask why we split up."

"I just think it's really none of my business." I answered. "Not to say I am not curious. I have heard rumours."

"What does he say happened?"she asked.

I grinned at her. "You won't believe me."


I took a deep breath. "According to him, or what he tells people is, you are still there. By the way I am sorry you can't attend my wedding next Saturday." I told her, she looked puzzled. "He told me you and he have a hot party to go to."

I paused for a second to let her digest what I had just said. "The whole world and his dog know you left years ago, but he always talks about his other 'alf, the lovely Shell."

"Yes he always called me that." she replied. "You know I loved him once, or at least I thought I did." I didn't answer. I felt she was at the edge of an emotional precipice. "It was his fault you know, I would never have done anything, it was only because he kept going on and on about it that I did it. I don't know much about what happened after I left. Doug had to pop up a couple of times. The first time he went, he was, er, picked up by the police and questioned. They sent a local bobby round to me, I had to convince them I was me. Apparently he had told them he killed Doug and me..."

I reached over to her holding her hand. "It's alright you don't have to tell me."

"I do Colin, if not for you, I have to tell for me, but please don't use it against him." she said.

"When you first left him, umm, well he ... well it's more than a rumour, he, er..."

"Went a bit loopy?" she offered guiltily.

"Yes, my Aunt worked in St Bridget's, you know the funny farm. He was put in there until he was, er ... He was there for some time after they found out you were still alive. They had even dredged the gravel pits for your bodies." As I spoke her eyes were filled with regret, her head fell. I watched helplessly as a tear dripped from her cheek into her glass.

Taking her hand again, I tried to soothe her. "Cheryl, you have had a lot to drink, don't say anything you are going to regret telling me, please." I said trying to reassure her gently. "Auntie Kath only told us that much, and that was because she thought she had a murderer to watch." I stroked her hand, and we both sat in silence till my bladder insisted that I move. I excused myself and braved the toilet again. I did get asked at the urinal if I was really straight. When I returned she had gone, I assumed to the loo, as I couldn't see her. and got another round in.

I found myself people watching and do you know the strange thing about watching this group of gay men together? There was absolutely nothing odd about it. Yes, there was the occasional lovers touch, but nothing overtly sexual. I think we were having more contact.

I hadn't noticed Cheryl return to the bar, I only noticed when she sat back down. She had four more glasses with her.

"I am going to tell you whether you like it or not, but I need a drink first, sorry it's only the fifteen year old." she said passing me one of the glasses. I watched as she necked two of the others.

"Right listen to me and don't interrupt. If when I am finished you never want to talk to me again I will understand, put me in a taxi and I will never see or speak to you again." She looked at me, almost daring me to say something. I just nodded and reached for my beer.

"He liked his men's magazines, you know Mayfair and whatnot." I wanted to say I had never heard of whatnot, but I resisted. She continued. "We had a good sex life, well I say good ... We had a lot of sex and I orgasmed a lot, but er, it wasn't fulfilling er, for either of us." she paused and took a drink from the JD and coke I had gotten for her.

"He was passionless, oh yes he knows a woman's tender spots, how and where to touch, to lick and nibble, but he was like a robot. Can you understand that? Sex without lust, it just left me empty, not that he's small." She explained hurriedly. "So one day he showed me this article about swinging, it was around our second anniversary. We had a blazing row, I told him no, and if I wasn't enough for him he could whistle. He wouldn't let it drop, on and on he went."

I necked my fifteen year old whatever.

"So eventually, months later I relented. I agreed not to swing but to er, to at least entertain the idea of meeting up with a man and er..." she took a drink. "Well, er, talk to him and decide whether to, er, let him chat me up." she took another drink to cover her embarrassment.

"So we went over to Oxford and got a hotel room, then we found a singles bar. One that advertised in one of his dirty mags. We went in separately after agreeing that for the night we were not married, well I was fighting off suitors, left right and centre. The old man, well he struck out with every woman he spoke to. Well to cut a long story short, I took a man back to our hotel and we fucked like rabbits all night. At nine o'clock in the morning the old man rang. Nine o'clock precisely, can you believe it?" I grinned at the shared joke, the problem with the Whinger, was just as she had described with her sex life. A procedure for everything, the term OCD was invented to describe him. A scene from the sitcom Porridge jumped into my head. Ronnie Barker is mocking the prison officer Mr McKie. In a military style voice he says "stand by you bed ... Wait for it, wait for it, get ready, knickers down..." I burst out laughing.

"Sorry I just had a thought", I explained and she laughed. I noticed all our glasses were empty, "another?" she nodded and I went to the bar just as they called last orders. I returned with four doubles of the fifteen year old Glen Livet.

"Now where was I, oh yes old Whinger had phoned the room. Well I guessed it was him, he didn't speak. So I just lifted the receiver off of the cradle and lay it on the bedside. Anyway we were, you know doing it and the pervert listened, when we finished I told the man ... Oh aren't I awful I can't remember his name, to be honest I'm not sure if I ever knew it. I told the man, it was my husband on the phone and he was on his way. I swear I have never seen someone get dressed so fast, he was out of the room in two minutes flat.

They must have passed in the hallway, because seconds after he had left, the ol' man came in." she took a gulp, emptying a glass. "He was undressed as fast as the other guy had gotten dressed, and then he was on me. He licked me everywhere, and I do mean everywhere, and with passion. I mean for the first time in his life, he was an animal." she looked into her glass. "The problem was I wanted him to be like that because of me, because of us, not because of what I had been doing. I just lie there letting him lick every drop of sweat and come from every inch, every orifice, every nook and cranny of my body. He was having the time of his life, me I was only tolerating his attentions and then only just. I felt sick, almost paralysed. I felt he was sick. By the time he had vented his lust we were long past checkout time, we had to pay for a second night."

Another glass was emptied. "So then he starts on at me to go back later and pick up someone again." she giggled." Well I let rip at him, I told him he was trying to pimp me out like a common tart and I was having none of it. I told him if he was so intent on eating spunk he should go and pick up a man for himself. I caused such a ruckus that the hotel called the police. Before they would leave us, we were asked to leave."

She drained her last glass and leant forward, bringing her head close to mine. "It was pretty damn chilly in the Winger household for a month or so, that was when I realised what was wrong with his lovemaking, that unknown man in the hotel hadn't managed anywhere near the orgasm count I was used to, but he was a fucks sight more satisfying. Do you understand that? She looked at me, the question boring into me from her eyes. "I doubt you do." She was right, I had no answer for her.

"So eventually I relented, I agreed to look at swinging, like he wanted." I saw her eyeing up my untouched glass, I pushed it to her and she took a sip. "So he contacted some swingers and the following Friday we headed to Birmingham for a party. Well, not being big headed, but we were by far the best looking couple there. So all the men, spent all night trying to get me to bed. None of them succeeded." she giggled at the memory. "Old Whinger was probably for the first time in his life, actually in demand. You got to admit he is a little bit handsome. I watched him with some old fat bird, it was a real eye opener for me. His lovemaking was a religious ritual for him, from then on his attentions never, and I do mean never, got me going."

"I got him to go back home in the early hours, I told him on the way back that it wasn't working for me and he needed to sort out what it was he wanted out of our marriage. His only reply was that he loved me and wanted to give me the best sex possible, that he knew he wasn't getting it right and would be happy if I got it elsewhere. I tried to make him understand that he needed to stop trying to use a manual, doing it by the book just doesn't work, but I was wasting my time, he wouldn't, or couldn't change."

She became silent, I thought perhaps she was thinking she had told me too much when she cut in again. "I met Doug, it doesn't matter how, where or when. Just that we got together. With him I got the passion and the orgasms." Tears started to fall. I remembered that she had told me he died a couple of years ago. I reached out a reassuring hand again.

"Sorry" she said blowing her nose. "But I really do miss him."

I noticed we were almost the last customers in the bar, I ushered her out, with our arms around each other we teetered unsteadily down to the seafront. We found a bench to sit on and sat watching the waves in the moonlight. She cuddled up to me, I returned her touch and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. I felt her body tremble as she continued to sob gently, till she fell asleep.

"This is becoming a habit" I thought smiling to myself. I shook her gently to wake her, she snuggled in to me, I continued to shake her, soothing her, telling her it was time to go home. Eventually she awoke and became aware of her surroundings. We walked in the direction of a taxi rank as the sun began to peep over the horizon.

Her house was full of human detritus, it looked like we had missed one hell of a party, we stepped over slumbering corpses and picked our way into her kitchen. I put the kettle on for coffee.

I made us both a cup, and we moved outside to her garden. Daylight had asserted itself, birds were singing, it looked to be the beginning of a beautiful day.

I was dying to hear the rest of her story, but I didn't want her to get upset again. We had another awkward silence, I realised it was only the second since we met. That might have been less than thirty six hours ago, but I felt we had known one another for years.

"Looks like a nice day." I offered lamely.

Cheryl looked at me and smiled. "That's the best you can do, I share my innermost secrets, bare my soul and all you can come up with is, it's a nice day."

We laughed together at the absurdity, she was right, she had opened up to me, not because I had asked, but for her own reasons. She had to get it off her chest, had she been catholic she would probably gone to confession. I pondered for a short while before summoning enough courage to ask. "So what made you leave? Or shouldn't I ask?

She looked me in the eye before answering. "I had been seeing Doug for a few months, and I realised I was living a lie. I hadn't told hubby that I was seeing anyone, and I am ashamed to admit it, a couple of times I let him make love to me when I was dirty, you know after I had been with Doug."

She had hesitated, it was difficult to tell me, I was about to say it didn't matter but she carried on, gaining the strength to continue as she spoke.

"It was always the same with the old man, I can almost remember his recipe, Kissing and stroking, he would work his way down, a couple of minutes on my neck, down to my breasts." she giggled. "Left first ... oh never mind that's not important. Yes I came to him dirty for the second time, from Doug and I noticed that he hadn't noticed. He was making love, at least in his mind and nothing was different. I must have been as unclean as I had been after the stranger, but because he didn't know, even though he must have tasted Doug on me. For me there was no passion. Perhaps I should have told him, perhaps if I had we could have found the passion I needed. The problem was, I was already getting it. So I stopped letting hubby touch me, stopped him dead. No, no, not that night. I let him satisfy himself, but after that night, never again. Was that cold of me?"

I stuttered nothing came out, I didn't really have an answer for her. She was good at that, asking me questions I couldn't answer.

"No you don't have to answer that, Two or three months later, I was awful, I had forgotten it was his birthday. I had gone over to Doug's after work and he was giving me a right good seeing to, sorry am I being too crude? Thinking of him makes me feel that way, anyway the door wasn't locked and he walked in. Doug was pounding into me, and when I noticed him there, stood with his cock in his hand. He was wanking, he was tossing himself off with a big dirty, no, disgusting leer. Doug noticed I was distracted and turned to look at what I was looking at. I said. God knows, I shouldn't have said it, but I said look darling, dipshits come to watch."

Her head dropped in shame. "That destroyed him, he fell to his knees crying, Doug and I just stared at him. After a while he got up and left. I haven't seen him since. Doug and I went back the next day to Joe's and we collected my clothes and stuff, he was nowhere to be seen. Doug found work down here a few weeks later and we moved. I haven't given Joe a second thought till I met you. What do you think he would do if he saw me? If I came back up, just to visit, family and friends; both old and new?" She looked at me and gave my hand a squeeze as she said it.

I let go of her hand and stood. I stood to attention and saluted and in my best impersonation of the Whinger I said "Sergeant Joseph S Winger reporting for duty ma'am."

When this story gets more text, you will need to Log In to read it

Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Cheating / Cuckold / Cream Pie /