Copyright© 2006

I watched her face contort with ecstasy and new her orgasm was fast approaching. I knew the look well, it is the one she gets when her vaginal muscles contract strongly around my throbbing cock and start mercilessly milking my monster member.

"OH! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuuuuuccck me deeper!", was her desperate cry. How many times had I heard these words echo around our bedroom walls as Julie, my wife of thirty six years, and I screwed away another exciting evening?

It was about now that balls tightened and semen blew hard against her already slippery vaginal walls without pity, and the mighty little swimmers started their life and death race towards her ovaries in the hope of finding an egg to fertilise.

But thoughts of pregnancy were the last thing on Julie's mind while she orgasmed and milked as much cum as she could into her hungry, humping hole. Though she was well into her fifties, Julie had yet to even commence "The Change".

It annoyed her slightly, because when, at eleven, she had her first period and mum explained the whole 'women's business' to her again, but in more detail now that she was actually experiencing 'it', Julie had imagined she was signing up for 35 - 40 years of menstruation which would then give way to freedom from the monthly intrusion. By fifty two she should have been released at last, but, no, here she was at 56 still as regular as bloody clockwork, and still taking "The Pill".

Julie knew she had absolutely the best ever husband in the world and the most unbeatable family - two boys and a girl. They were her and Barry's greatest achievement. They both had successful careers but had also succeeded in managing together the almost impossible task of progressing their careers and raising a normal family.

Barry, on his part, also imagined he had the worlds best family and the wife he called 'Gillette' - after the Gillette shaver advert which had as its motto "The best a man can get!" - that was his Julie. And those wonderful kids of theirs; all married now, two with kids of their own. Two terrific grandkids he and Julie adored without reservation.

I moved my eyes away from Julie's face as she came down from her climax and started to relax, the small beads of perspiration glistening on her forehead.

We've both saved our holidays and in three more days we're leaving on our "Dream Holiday" - Hawaii, North America, then England and Europe before coming back home to Sydney via Singapore and Hong Kong. Four months of relaxation and enjoying one another", I thought to myself as she slid out from under and turned on her side to relax, just like she always did after we made love, "our present to each other for all the years of hard work together raising our family and 'being there' for each other." That's what we both said this was.

Now I had to remember all the things I had to do before we left - you guys know - the long list of things 'she' leaves for you to organise. We were having a large family gathering Saturday night and then off to the airport Sunday morning for that Qantas flight to our planned mutual reward.

One of my jobs was the Saturday thing - you know, organising the drink, the steak for the barbecue, make sure the gas bottle is full and everyone who should be was invited - family, close friends and a few neighbours. Julie would organise some salads, dips and finger food. She would also decorate the tables and do a few ribbons and balloons around the place to add to the party flavour. Oh, and did I mention, Julie was in charge of packing our bags - her main function the next couple of days. My bag took her one morning, the rest of the time will be spent packing hers, then unpacking and packing a different heap of clothes and accessories. Thank the lord we could afford first class or we would be hiring a transport plane to take her stuff. Guys understand this - women readers have no clue what I mean here!

On Thursday afternoon I was pottering around the barbecue area checking that everything was in order when there was a loud noise in our usually quiet street. I knew straight away what it was, I'd known bikes all my life. No, I wasn't secretly a Hell's Angel or anything like that - I'd never even ridden a bike, except occasionally as a pillion passenger in my teens. Anyway I heard a whole lot of 'real' bikes (not Jap crap) stop near our place and then a lot of yelling and smashing coming from Wade's house, the one on the other side of us from Bill and Marge, Philip's parents.

Suddenly Wade came through the gate in our common fence looking white as a sheet - a hard call for a black guy. "Shit Barry, they're going crazy, those bastards", he gasped as he shook in fear, "They're crazy bastards".

Wade didn't get any more out before there were a couple of muffled explosions and the bikers roared off out of the area. Quickly Wade and I went out the front to see what was happening, but as soon as I saw the fire I ran back inside and dialled 000 to get the emergency services here as quickly as possible.

The fire had a really good hold before the fire engines arrived, but they managed to put it out in about twenty minutes. Though not before the interior of Wade's house was a write off. Lots of water kept the exterior brickwork sort of intact and also saved our house and his other neighbour's from fire or heat damage.

Wade had a few uninsured paintings and a quite a bit of sporting memorabilia he'd collected over the years. He was proud of his collection of football jumpers and I knew he would be devastated when he realised they were destroyed - there would be little in that house worth salvaging.

"All they kept saying was something about black Moslems taking over their country and they wouldn't let it happen", Wade sobbed as he watched the fire fighters dousing the last few pieces of smouldering wreckage.

"I didn't know you were a Moslem Wade", I said. I knew he was black - I'm not blind.

Julie wasn't home when all the excitement happened, she likely needed something extra to take on the trip. There was quite a gathering of neighbours out in the street when the police arrived. Our quiet cul-de-sac had only eight homes and we all knew each other quite well. Almost everyone told the police the same thing: It all happened in a few minutes, maybe less, probably one or two at the most. The bikers roared into the street, broke a few of Wade's windows, smashed in his front door, started a fire and left. In fact most people were like me - they didn't go outside until the bikers left, so we really saw nothing - only heard a lot of noise. Let's face it, who in their right mind would walk out in the street and watch a mob of crazy bikers on a rampage?

Wade told them about the racist and religious crap they hurled at him, and he wasn't even a Moslem! I knew Wade didn't like the way the extremists were going on in our country, and he was not at all impressed with being considered one of them. There had been four other similar incidents in the past week and police were no closer to finding the culprits for any of them. No one on the quiet local streets got a number plate from even one bike. Everyone was so shocked by the noise and furore that they didn't think to look - not that they were likely to see well enough from behind curtains to read fifty millimetre high letters from twenty metres or more away.

Our street featured on all the TV news bulletins that night and the next. Wade went to stay with his son a few suburbs away, turning down my offer, and that of several of our neighbours for him to stay with us in the area.

Julie was worried that this sort of thing could happen right where we lived. As she said it was different when you just saw it on the TV happening in someone else's street. I told her I wondered if these were all really just random attacks, or like most of the drive by shootings and home invasions, were they really drug related. Or had the others and Wade done something to truly piss off someone they should not have fucked with.

"We've known Wade for so long Barry," Julie said, "Surely you don't think he is a really drug dealer?"

"Well, you know he has all that art work, and those football jumpers he is always going on about are likely worth lots of thousands", I pondered out loud, "maybe he was up to something shady. They went straight to his house. They knew who they wanted. I'm beginning to wonder if he was up to something. Something he'd rather keep hidden."

"Oh Barry!" accompanied by a big exhale of breath- the standard reply from an exasperated wife who is ending the conversation, huh guys?

We talked to the neighbours Friday and they all agreed we should still have the going away party Saturday as planned. I wanted to have it, but didn't want to offend too many people if they thought we should give it a miss.

Saturday went well, or as well as Barry expected it would. Wade was dropped of by his son and Barry and Julie were to drop him home if they could not get him to stay the night. Barry knew he would be ok to drive. There was no way he was drinking enough to affect his enjoyment of the plane flight the next morning.

Everyone, neighbours included were wary when Barry announced he had an embarrassing bit of video to show them all. His kids always cringed, the neighbours, but less so. Always there was a lot of shared laughter after one of his special 'showings'. Barry specialised in putting together bits of the kids early years and embarrassing them with it. Well, not really embarrassing them - in reality they all enjoyed seeing what he had dug up each time he did this. Barry had paid a professional service to convert all the old Super 8 film they had of the family from the days before video cameras became all the rage. Tonight was no exception when he showed the boys at age eight and ten, with one of their playmates completely naked and covered in mud from playing in the wet clay where the foundations for the house where Wade lived had just been dug and it rained the next day.

Barry had deliberately been devious looking and sounding before he showed the video and this seemed to put Julie on edge a little, but she decided to put it down to the excitement of the world trip they were starting tomorrow.

When everyone was gone, their three kids with a copy of the DVD Barry had shown, Julie, Karen, (Barry's recently divorced sister who was staying a few days in the house to 'find herself' as Barry had told Julie), and Wade sat quietly for a few minutes. Barry had suggested short time to wind down before they drove Wade home because he definitely did not want to stay with them. Julie agreed, quietly telling Barry it would save Karen from having to take him home in the morning. Barry smiled at Julie, complimenting her on her thoughtfulness regarding his sister.

"OH! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuuuuuccck me deeper!" - Julie's passionate scream filled the lounge room, and the projector spread a graphic image of Julie in the throes of orgasm onto the wall in larger then life size. Wade started to rise from his seat when he recognised his sweaty black arse pounding between Julies beautiful white legs.

"Sit, you black arsehole", Barry said dispassionately while pointing the .32 automatic pistol his father left him straight tat Wades groin, "nothing will give me greater pleasure than an excuse to shoot you in the balls, you worthless shit."

Julie was rolling herself into a ball on the floor where she fell as soon as she saw what was on the screen. She knew this was likely the end for her. She knew how often she and Barry had discussed their views on fidelity - she knew his all too well, and had expressed the same strong views to him also. As the show ended, Karen left the room.

"I asked Karen to leave so there are no witnesses to what I say to you two. If you agree to agree on what I said it will only be the words of a cheating whore agreeing with her lover - not a great likelihood it will carry any weight at all. Wade, you've suffered the start of your retribution for fucking with my wife - your house is gone. Did you think I would sit back and you'd get off scott-free?" I spat at him, "And it's only beginning, but you'll find the rest soon enough. I know she allowed it, I didn't see her exactly fighting you off, but you know the risk a fool takes when he fucks another man's wife. I found out, and I won't take it sitting down. You took the risk, now you pay the piper. You won't fuck another man's wife again - I guarantee that!"

"It will be here in a minute Barry," Karen said, poking her head around the corner of the doorway.

"OK Wade, that's enough for tonight", Barry told him, "get out of my sight. There's a taxi coming to take you home. If I even imagine you tried to contact Julie, or go anywhere near her I will kill you. Now, PISS OFF arsehole!"

Not surprisingly, Wade got up and left silently, probably thinking he was lucky to get out of there in one piece.

When Wade got up and left, obviously thinking he got out of my house in one piece, I smiled to myself. Tomorrow afternoon when the police went to collect him from his son's place he would not be so sure.

Sometime tomorrow morning I knew the police would get the report on the white powder in the canisters in his back room that didn't get a lot of fire damage. It was cocaine - two kilos of the crap. All in canisters with his fingerprints on them - he had screwed them shut a week before after I got some different size wood screws from him to fix a few loose boards on my pergola. I didn't see the coke go in there, but I know it did. It cost me.

It would soon come out that the fire was an attack over a drug deal gone wrong. Another silly suburban guy running drugs on the side. In Australia, it's more like a white mafia running the gaols. And it won't help Wade any when they find out he was screwing some white guys' wives. Not one little bit. Then he'll really be fucked. And he deserves every minute of it, because he will never feel the pain I'm living with now if he's there for fifty years being fucked up the arse every day.

The only dark cloud on the horizon while we prepared for our trip of a lifetime had been Philip. Philip was the eighteen year old son of our next door neighbour, and he was going to come in the house daily while we were away and feed my tropical fish and the birds. Our family dog was going to stay with our eldest son and his family while we were gone. He was to have a few 'trial runs' while we were away for a couple of short periods before our overseas trip.

"I think Philip used our spare bedroom last weekend", I told Julie after I saw the bed messed a bit when I got home one Monday afternoon, "I'll figure what's going on and talk to him about it, or maybe just warn him about having strangers in our house when we are trusting him with the key".

"Okay dear", she said, "I think just a general warning will be fine though".

We left it at that, but I wanted to know what he was up to. I suspected he might have had a girl in there to save going to his place or hers, and decided to try and catch him, or find out for sure before I made a fool of myself. The fact he may be screwing a good looking chick was not a deciding factor, but the idea I might get some 'live' sex on camera was definitely not a reason against the venture.