When I married Amy, I didn't really know what I was letting myself in for. I didn't realise I was virtually marrying her sister Jill as well. Well, that's what it felt like.

You see, when I first met Amy, Jill's husband Ron was on a company posting in Singapore. Ron works for some bank in the city and they had sent him out there for a few years. Apparently he was in for a big promotion when he returned. Jillian had gone with him, of course, so when I met Amy and fell in love with her, I had no idea how close the two sisters actually were.

I knew that just after I had met Amy she had gone out to Singapore to visit her sister for a month or so and when she came back she did nothing but talk about Jill and Ron for weeks afterwards. Anyway Amy and I had been happily married for nearly two years when Ron and Jill returned to England.

I thought nothing of it when they found a nice house in the next street to ours. And in the beginning I didn't notice just how much time they spent at our house or how often I came home to find a note from Amy telling me we were eating at Jill's house that evening. She would never give me any warning like a phone call at work or anything. Just a note on the fridge saying "Dinner's at Jill's".

Okay, Jill is a nice girl, but to be honest with you Ron is a complete waste of space as far as I'm concerned. He encapsulates everything I don't like in life. He is, or rather was - he's getting on a bit now - a Yuppie. He works for a bank. No, not the sort of bank you find on the High Street. No, he works for one of these banks that buy and sell money on what they like to call the international money markets.

I didn't know. I think there's something immoral about buying and selling money and making huge profits out of it. Anyway this isn't the place to air my prejudices. Suffice to say I had to learn to tolerate Ron and his business associates.

Mind, he had to put up with the friends of mine whom I could still persuade to attend Amy and my parties once they had met Ron and his chums. Once I got used to the bugger, he wasn't all that bad. He just had a high opinion of himself.

Life with Amy was quite good, but after Jill and Ron returned, our sex life took a bit of a dive. There was no more slipping up for a quickie when I came in from work. No more sex anywhere any time, mainly because Jill was always there. When she was at our house, she rarely left until midnight and if Amy went around to Jill's place it was after twelve before she returned. With me rising at five every morning to get to the office, there wasn't much time for sex, except on the weekends.

Hold on, I suppose I'd better give you a few details about Amy. Thirty-two years old, she stands about five-six in bare feet and she has long blond hair. Slim with just the right size Bristol's' (she'll never need an implant). Could be she carries a little too much weight on her rear-end sometimes. But she keeps a close eye in it and when she feels it's required she'll spend some time at the gym correcting things. For Jill, read a twin of her sister and they always visit the gym together. Christ, I don't think they do anything apart. That includes going to the loo when we are out. But you all knew that, women always hold each other's hands when they go to the loo.

Anyway by the time we had been married six years I was just a little pissed off with having Jill and Ron's company "all" the time. Oh, I didn't say that Amy had been married once before I met her. I wonder now whether her first husband wasn't as tolerant as I am and got pissed off with living with Jill and Ron in his bloody pocket all the time.

I was looking for any way I could to separate the two girls, even if it was just for the odd weekend, when fate played me what I thought was a lucky hand. An old aunt of mine passed away. To be honest, I had almost forgotten the old dear existed. But the old girl was kind enough to leave me her little cottage in South Wales in her will. It was a tiny place with one bedroom and bathroom upstairs and small lounge-cum-kitchen on the lower floor.

Ideal, I thought for a holiday retreat and of course there was no room for Jill and Ron. I'm not sure that Amy was over-enamoured with the place at first but she soon fell in love with it.

At first I thought things were going well for us again. Could be we would get on and start a family. Amy, having had one marriage collapse, had been a little reticent about having children. We started going to South Wales about one weekend a month. Then one Friday I came home from work and on the Fridge door I found the ubiquitous note.

Oh, the cowboy bit? I'd rather not say, but I will to keep you happy. When I was younger, I used to ride horses. I gave up when I married Amy, because she could never see the fascination in riding. The only folks she ever saw riding horses were cowboys on the TV. So she claimed I was a frustrated cowboy. Hence the name and, unfortunately, quite a few people have taken to using the name for me. Well, if you can't beat them, join them; I answer to the name Cowboy nowadays.

Well, Ron turned up at my house once he had gotten home from his office and had discovered a similar note from Jill. I could tell he was about as enamoured as I was that the girls had gone off without us. To keep myself from having to put up with just Ron's company that evening I suggested that we go out to the Golf Club to eat.

We darned near spent the whole weekend there. Mind you, that had its drawbacks, as Ron is bloody useless at snooker. But then again, he's better than I am at golf, so I managed to win back the money that I had lost to him on the greens.

Did I show my anger that Amy and Jill had gone off to the cottage without warning me in advance, when they returned? Like a bloody idiot, no, I didn't! I loved Amy so I played the loving husband when she got back on that Sunday evening. Oh, and Amy tried to kill me and wear the bed out that night. Hey, kinky - Amy couldn't get enough of me that night. Every time I climaxed she'd go down on me to get me back on duty. I had to take Monday off of work because I was so knackered.

Amy, of course, was off to see her sister at what seemed to me like the crack of dawn that Monday morning. I was still in bed at 3 o'clock in the afternoon when Amy returned with Jill. They had Ron in tow. Apparently Jill had tried to kill him as well, so he had taken the day too.

Two weeks later Amy and I had another weekend at the cottage. We had a great time. Being at the cottage without Jill and Ron was like being on honeymoon again. I really looked forward to our little breaks there, even if the drive was a pain in the arse.

I must admit I was surprised, and pissed off, again a fortnight later, when I got home on the Friday evening to find yet another note from Amy. Once again, she had taken off with Jill to the cottage for the weekend. I can't say Ron was very happy either. But like a numskull, I let it pass again. However I noted that Ron wasn't taking it as easily as I was. He never said anything, but I knew the guy quite well by then and I could almost hear the little cogs going around in his head.

But you've got to understand Ron and the way his mind works. As I said, he's an arsehole. Well, maybe I didn't say that, but he is. He wasn't so much annoyed that Jill had gone off to spend a weekend away without him. I think it was where she had gone that irked him.

The cottage belonged to me and Ron didn't like that. That's what his problem was. He was the big man who worked in the city and made all the money. Whereas I missed my wife and had to put up with the Pratt, he was more upset that it was Amy and my cottage the girls had gone to.

It was the same when the girls returned. Both of them tried to kill us with love and after that it became a regular thing. Every other weekend either Amy or I or Amy and Jill took off for the cottage.

That is until Ron dropped the bombshell on us that he'd splashed out and bought a villa in Spain. I could see his reasoning - he had trumped me on the cottage. There was no way I could afford a villa in Spain.

The trouble was, nipping down to Southern Spain isn't quite as easy as driving down the M4 motorway. Jill and Ron (all right, often with Amy and I in tow) would fly over there for a week or so at a time.

It didn't make too much difference to Amy and my getaways to South Wales. And it didn't make too much difference to the girls' trips down there either.

Alright, some of you less trusting individuals might ask, what are the girls getting up to in South Wales without their husbands? Well, to be honest I'm damned sure my Amy didn't get up to anything she shouldn't. The cottage was in a small village and Amy and I had become quite well known there. The trouble with small villages is that everyone knows everybody else's business and they couldn't keep their mouths shut.

So don't worry, in the village pub I heard about every little indiscretion, no matter how slight (what there was of them) that went on. If somebody had brought the girls a drink at the dance in the hotel in town, I heard about it in the pub. I knew the name of every guy they danced with and actually which taxi driver drove the girls home after the dance. Any strange car parked at the cottage would be reported back to me sometimes before the next time I went into the pub. So I had no worries there.

God, there was nothing that I didn't hear about. From the actual time that they arrived, to the time they started to pack the car for the journey home. I not only knew what jumble sales or antique shops they visited, but what junk they had brought there and how much they paid for. Interesting that one, how things somehow got cheaper by the time they arrived back at the house in London.

So you see I had no worries about what was going on in South Wales. But I can't say the same for the next shock Amy dropped on me. The announcement that Amy and Jill were popping over to the villa in Spain for a couple of weeks was dropped on both Ron and I, whilst we were all eating dinner in a restaurant one evening.

I'll give it to Ron, he took it in his stride, and encouraged the girls to go. Could be he was trying to rub my nose in it. Now he could play the big man with the second home in the sun.

The girls flew out the following weekend. Two weeks later they were back and saying what a great time they had had. That evening Amy tried to kill me yet again and once again I missed going to work on the Monday morning.

A few weeks later Jill and Ron slipped back over to Spain for a week of so. It was nice to have my loving wife to myself for a while. But I could tell she was missing her sister. For the rest of the year things were back to normal, with the girls or Amy and myself going down to the cottage every other weekend.

Jill and Ron went off to Spain for Christmas. Much to Amy's annoyance, I refused to go saying that I wanted to see my family over the holidays. In the end, Amy agreed with me and we visited her folks as well.

It was around the following Easter time that Amy announced that Jill and she were going over to Spain for another couple of week's break. Neither Ron nor I could go along as we were both too tied up at work.

The girls came back sporting really nice sun-tans and revelled in telling us how they had both spent nearly all their time out in Spain sunbathing, whilst Ron and I had been at home with the rain.

Yes, once again Amy tried to kill me with sex. I was beginning to think that it was about time I checked on my life insurance policies, to see whether Amy had increased any of them lately.

Ron and Jill went out to the villa for a week about a month later. I was really beginning to enjoy it when they went to the villa. I'd get my wife back for a whole week at a time. But Jill and Ron had only been back a couple of weeks when Amy and Jill said they were going out there again.

To be honest I was really pissed off about it and I let Amy know in no uncertain terms. Her first excuse was that her suntan had almost completely faded and she was jealous of Jill's. Then she said that Jill was going to go even if Amy didn't and she couldn't let her sister go out there on her own. So in the end I relented and they left on the Saturday morning.

It was on the Monday at work that I really flipped. Some of the younger guys were crowded around one of the computers making the kind of comments that young guys make when they are looking at porn. Out of interest I strolled over to see what all the excitement was about. The youngster had brought up a porno site and they were making comments about how far the girl in the movie had this guy's massive cock down her throat.

But that wasn't what caught my eye. What I saw were the two little triangles of white skin on the girl's chest. She was sporting a bloody good suntan; as good as Amy's had been when she came back from Spain at Easter. But somehow I didn't remember those triangles where her bikini top should have covered her breasts.

Come to that I didn't remember seeing the triangle where Amy's briefs should have been either. Now that bloody villa had a communal pool and there was nowhere that the girls could have sunbathed in the nude. Well, not in private anyway, and I did not like the idea of my wife being in the nude in public.

I went back to my desk but I didn't get much in the way of work done that afternoon. Amy was not one to have lain by that communal pool naked. Christ, I doubt the other residents would had stood for it anyway. So just where had she been when she got that all over tan?

The problem worried me all afternoon. Later that afternoon I came up with the only answer I could think of. The girls were going to someone else's villa, one with a private pool area. The silly thing was the only person I could remember that we had met over there who had a private pool was the Major. He was an old guy; he must have been at least sixty-five or seventy if he was a day. But then I remembered something else - I remembered Ron commenting about the bulge the Major had in his shorts.

"I'll bet he was a right Casanova, in his day." Ronny had said to me. Now I was suddenly beginning to think, "I ain't too sure about the 'was' bit, Ronny my boy". He had looked pretty fit to me and could still be very active at sixty-five. And then of course there's always Viagra nowadays.

I called and booked the flight from my desk, then went in and told my boss I was taking a few days off. For some reason he never questioned why. It could have been because of the look on my face. After rushing home and throwing a few things into a bag, I just managed to make the afternoon flight out of Gatwick.

My mobile phone rang whilst I was at the car hire desk. It was by then half-past seven London time. When I checked the caller ID, it said it was Amy calling. I let the call go to voicemail because if I had answered it she might well have heard voices speaking Spanish around me. I still had a long drive to the villa ahead of me. If Amy suspected I was in Spain, she and Jill would then have plenty of time to make any necessary arrangements; you understand what I mean.

I listened to the recording after I was safely settled in my hire car and there where no untoward background noises that could interfere should it be necessary for me to call Amy back. I pushed the play message button.

"Cowboy, where the hell are you? Ronny just called and says you're not home from work yet. He's waiting to go to the Golf Club, poor dear. Give him a call, will you? I think he's worried."

With that she hung up. No "I love you" and she didn't say that she was worried about me. Just that Ron was worried. I was really pissed off at that. I just turned my phone off and started on the hour's drive to the villa.

I arrived there just in time to watch Amy and Jill come trotting out of the front door and join the Major in his Mercedes convertible. Jill sat in the front with him and Amy in the back. They drove off with me following at a discrete distance in my hired Seat. Out on the coast road they pulled into a rather touristy restaurant-cum-night-spot. Handy for me as the place was crowded with coach parties.

After giving them time to get settled, I followed them in. The bar in the place was on a higher level than the main restaurant with its dance floor and stage. When I got inside, the cabaret of traditional Spanish flamenco dancing was going on. I spotted the girls and the Major sitting at a table down by the dance floor. Their meal was just being served.

At first I was relieved that Jill was sitting beside the Major and Amy was siting opposite them, but then I noticed that the fourth place setting hadn't been removed. Then some guy turned up and sat alongside Amy. I sat at a table by the edge of the balcony that the bar was on and watched them eat their meal.

When the dancing started, I watched Jill and the Major get up first. It looked to me as if Amy was telling the guy she didn't want to dance. But later, after she had had a couple more drinks, she got up and danced with him to the faster numbers. But she quickly returned to her seat when the slow numbers started.

As far as Jill was concerned she was canoodling with the Major like a bloody teenager. It was apparent to me that Amy was trying to prevent the guy she was dancing with getting too close. I was just getting to the point where I was going to go down and interrupt the happy party when all hell broke loose. Spanish police came running in and there was pandemonium for a few minutes, before like everyone else I realised that there had apparently been a bomb threat and for safety the place had to be cleared.

You wouldn't believe it but the girls and the Major walked right past me without recognising me. I did keep me face averted while they passed but I made sure to bump into the guy that Amy had been dancing with as he followed them out.

In the car park the four of them stood and talked for awhile. I know I'm not a lip reader but I somehow got the idea that Jill and the Major were trying to talk Amy into riding with the other guy. After maybe ten minutes I saw that Amy had acquiesced and she started walking over to the guy's car with him.

Now it was time for me to act or my marriage would be over. Assuming, that is, that it wasn't over already. I got into the Seat and drove it across the car park and stopped in front of the guy's Mazda just as he was about to pull away.

I just sat there looking at Amy as the guy shouted obscenities at me telling me get out of the way and waved his arms about. I watch the look of horror come over Amy's face as she realised who was driving the Seat. She screamed so loud that both Jill and the police heard her.