Chapter 1

It was on a warm sunny Friday afternoon, David Antony Musgrave arrived at the house he shared with his girlfriend Cecilia Thompson to find that the front door was ajar. Cecilia’s car was in the drive and the bonnet was warm so he surmised rightly that she had arrived shortly before him. He entered the house and heard her on the phone. She must have heard it ringing and rushed in to answer it, was his thought. He walked toward the kitchen where she was. Then she said something which stopped him in his tracks.

“Gary, you shouldn’t be phoning our land line. David could have answered it.”

There was talk from the other end.

“You would just hang up? Oh, yeah, good way to get him suspicious.”

David’s mind raced. Me? Suspicious? Why would I be? Of what? Or of whom?

Celia was talking again.

“ ... Ok, you can talk for a bit. I’ll hear his key in the lock when he gets here, but I might have to hang up quickly.”

“ ... Gary, David’s a good man; he’s very good to me. I won’t have you dissing him, it’s just that after five years the shine has gone off.”

That’s news to me, thought David. Shine? Well, I’m glad I’m a good man. Just not good enough it seems.

“ ... You know I want you, but I’m not going to cheat on David. You know, you and me, we have a good time. I love our lunches together.”

They have a good time? Lunches? No cheating? Big deal!

“ ... It’s not as easy as that, Gary my darling. This house is David’s. When I finish with him I’ll have to leave. Are you going to take me in?”

“ ... No I thought not. So I’ve had to find a place of my own. Now I’ve got the flat, it won’t be long my darling. But I’ve got to let him down gently. Once I’ve left him, then you can have me!”

“ ... You dirty boy! Yes you can, any way you want me! I’m getting wet just thinking about it!”

“ ... Don’t go there Gary. David is more than enough in that department. Just because you’ve got money doesn’t make you any better than him.”

“ ... Yes, I know. It all sounds so exciting. I’m longing to see your boat.”

“ ... I can’t wait either. But we’ll soon be together, I’ll be feeling you in me.”

“ ... Yes, in my mouth as well. And there too. Soon my love.”

David left the house again quietly, and went to sit in his car to think. So she was throwing him over for a rich playboy. She’d already got a flat, so she really was going. He wondered if it could be that footballer she was chatting to for so long at Gwen’s last party. She was smiling and touching his arm and giggling. Perhaps.

He was not surprised that Gary went after her; he wasn’t the first, but he was the most glamorous and the richest. Celia was a walking wet dream. Most girls have one physical feature which outshines the rest, but not Celia.

Everything about her was in perfect proportion, medium very firm breasts, body tapering gently to a slim waist and flaring to slender hips. Long sinuous neck and a strikingly beautifully symmetrical face with blue eyes, delicate nose and a generous mouth capped with lustrous long blonde hair. Her back was a delightful ‘S’ shape with her spine in a gentle valley leading to the crease between her pert rounded buttocks. These were atop perfectly shaped thighs and calves. Feet dainty, as were her long-fingered hands.

Fully dressed, no male could tear his eyes away from her, and David saw her body and had her naked every night! So he was understandably still besotted after six years, which made this revelation all the worse.

He was numb. He thought he had satisfied her, that they had a good life together. All right, he didn’t earn vast amounts of money like Premiership footballers; he didn’t have a super-luxurious car or a yacht, but he always thought they enjoyed the same things, simple things. They did their share of concerts, plays, clubbing. They held parties, and had a good number of friends. This was what most would call an ordinary happy life.

They talked. They talked about everything. His Dad often repeated that saying: ‘It goes without saying’. Well with them nothing went without being talked about. Life with each other was above all interesting.

And in bed? They were compatible and she more than got her share of orgasms and seemed satisfied. She was supremely affectionate, always ready for a cuddle, a kiss, a stroke.

He tried to be the romantic type – flowers, weekends away. They’d had some great foreign holidays and she always showed she appreciated his efforts with shining eyes and gasps of pleasure. He never felt he needed more from life than her and their lifestyle, and he had thought she felt the same.

He thought she knew that there is such a thing as everyday life: work, housekeeping, gardening, mowing the lawn, shopping; that real life is not a fairy tale. Some aspects would bring the word ‘chore’ to mind, but he reckoned he did more than his fair share.

He always thought they had a better life together than most, but perhaps the very rich lived in a fairy-tale world where there were no chores to worry about. She was a poor cook, and she was disorganised and untidy, but she was so affectionate and repentant when he snapped and begged her angrily to tidy her stuff up.

He normally cooked the meals, and often found himself tidying up after her, but in his mind they were small faults. All in all she was good company, always cheerful with a ready wit. He had thought he was good company too.

Gradually the reality hit him and he started to get annoyed, resentful. He had given her his best and she had been happy. He knew that. She’d hum and sing happily round the house, she’d be excited by weekends away, she appreciated those romantic gestures. And now? A rich spoilt brat was going to take her from him.

His annoyance turned to anger. Six years! One year ‘dating’ and five living together. The first two years she called him her ‘boyfriend’, then he became her ‘partner’. Hell! She had recently even been hinting at marriage, and he’d bought a ring ready to propose! A lucky escape there, he thought grimly; that ring cost him an arm and a leg.

Then amid all the resentment and anger there was relief. At least they were not married, and she had no call on anything of his. He’d bought the house before he knew her. He paid the mortgage, he paid for all the furniture she wanted. They kept their money separate. He had paid most of the bills and she contributed to the food and the luxuries. In reality she paid relatively little into the household budget. She could walk out of their relationship, though she would go with nothing but what she came in with.

He couldn’t deny that he desired her. So the thought crept in that that perhaps there was a chance they could stay together. Perhaps he could make her see this was a bad move on her part. But was it a bad move from her point of view? He’d never thought of her as a greedy person, or someone who was materialistic. Had he misjudged her all those years?

Did she envy the footballers’ wives and girlfriends’ lifestyle – their expensive clothes, jewellery, flashy cars, foreign luxury travel, a certain amount of reflected glory and fame? If she did, David could never compete.

Then he remembered his dad’s advice. “It goes without saying that it’s stupid to marry a very beautiful woman, son. Pick yourself a fairly pretty girl who wants to be a homemaker. Remember the song ‘When you’re in love with a beautiful woman’. Every man will try to hit on her, and sooner or later she will give in.”

When he had taken her home to meet his parents, his dad had shaken his head in disbelief, when he saw how beautiful she was, and when they were alone he had given the ‘goes without saying’ speech.

But David was still in adolescent mode then, particularly with a devastating woman like Celia on his arm, and in his bed. He thought his father was a fool.

Later, when his father had once again become wise, he had told David the same thing had happened to him before he met David’s mother. Now it was happening to David as well.

Then another thought arose. If Celia was thinking of dumping David, but he managed to stop her going, and she dropped Gary, it was more than likely she would do the same thing again later, perhaps after they had married.

Then he really would be up shit creek. Maintenance, child support, losing the house to her that he had paid for! So it seemed that logically it would be better if she left now, though his emotions shouted loudly to fight for her, and there was that sinking depressed fear of losing her. He did love her, was deeply in love with her, and he did want her in his life. It wasn’t just lust. He was already jealous of the playboy.

He realised that this was getting him nowhere. He told himself to be realistic and practical. He might try to talk her out of it, but he knew getting into an argument with her would not work. When she argued she became very stubborn.