Chapter 1

Susan, my wife of ten years had been away from home for over a month by then. Her sister Ann had just given birth to her third child and things hadn't gone as smoothly as they could have. Ann had been taken into hospital early and kept under observation. Susan had gone up to Basingstoke, to look after Ann's other two young children until she and the baby were released from hospital.

My life revolves around Susan. How to describe her? Well, Sue reminds most people of Twiggy, the model from the Sixties. She is about five one, but she claims five two and is very slim, skinny some people would say. But she's my dream girl; her small tits and bum are just the way I like them. I will say she did look quite funny when she was pregnant with our twins. She looked like she was about to fall over at any minute.

A few years back I had been promoted to factory manager at my place of work. The extra money coming in had allowed us to follow our dream. We had purchased a derelict farmhouse and its associated buildings; all in seven acres of grounds. We had renovated the main six-bedroom house and were now in the process of converting the associated barns etc. into cottages and holiday accommodation. When we finished; we intended that the whole complex would be our retirement plan.

When first I met Susan, she had been quite reserved about sex. But after we were married and I had managed to find the right buttons to push, she turned into a little tiger in bed. Her slim frame meant she could be very - now how should I put it? - very gymnastic during our lovemaking, although she wasn't into anything adventurous and she wasn't too enthusiastic when it came to oral sex; anal sex was a definite no no. After four weeks of abstinence from her however, I was beginning to get withdrawal symptoms.

Ann and her baby were finally released from hospital on the Tuesday. Susan had called to tell me she was planning on returning home on the Saturday, after Ann had time to settle in at home with the new baby.

My mother and father had come to stay at our house whilst Sue was away; they were looking after our own three children, Michael (8) and the twins Adele and Michele (6) whilst I was at work.

As driving, especially long distance driving, is not one of Sue's favourite pastimes, I thought it would a nice gesture to go up to Basingstoke and drive her home. Just the kind of thing any loving husband would do for his beloved wife. So I took the Friday afternoon off work and cadged a lift from one my firm's truck drivers who was going up to London.

All right, my real plan was to go to Ann's house, make all the right kind of Oh and Ah noises over the new baby, then collect Sue and take her out for a nice meal. Then we would spend the night playing in a room at the MotorLodge before I drove her back home on the Saturday.

Well, we had been apart for over a month, and when we got home the children would want to monopolise Sue.

The truck driver dropped me at the MotorLodge, which is not far off the motorway. I figured I would book in, then call Sue and announce where I was, then I would get a taxi to take me over to Ann's house. Well, that had been my plan. But just after I climbed out of the truck, I knew things were not going to go as I expected.

Sitting there, parked right in the middle of the MotorLodge car park, was a car with "Tolgus Systems" written in big letters down the side. Susan works for Tolgus Systems and the car belonged to one of their sales reps.

So you ask, what could I find wrong with one of Tolgus's reps using the MotorLodge? Well, normally I would say nothing, except for the fact that on this particular occasion, my fucking Beamer was parked right alongside his fucking car and that's just too much of a bloody coincidence for my mind.

Susan had used my BMW as her car was getting a little long in the tooth and might not take too kindly to a 400-odd mile round trip.

My mind went into overdrive. I seemed to remember a real flash Git at Susan's firm's last Christmas dinner; he was all over her. I was bloody sure the Pratt said he lived in Andover and that's just a few miles down the road - as the crow flies - from Basingstoke.

But, of course, Sue could just be meeting the guy for a drink or meal! Come off it! Wives aren't supposed to go meeting guys when their husbands ain't around. Besides if they were in the fucking Restaurant, why the hell are they parked down the MotorLodge end of the bloody car park?

No! I was sure things weren't what they should be.

I hoisted my bag and strolled down to reception. As I filled the booking-in form, the girl asked me to write my car number in the space provided. I was telling her that I was without a car when an idea struck me.

"Tell me, that BMW out there," I said, "I used to own it. I'm wondering if it's the same guy driving it now or if its been sold on."

"What's the number?" The girl asked with a smile as she shuffled through some papers on the desk.

I told her and said I thought the guy's name was Grant.

"No, I'm sorry, that's a Mr and Mrs Wilson in 112."

Fuck it; yes that was the Pratt's name. Gary Wilson. I remembered the way he looked at Susan at that party. I just knew what the bastard was thinking then. Now it was apparent he had probably got lucky.

"Ah, no, that's not him. He must have sold it on then, thanks anyway." I said to the girl.

I was doing my best to read the booking in sheet she had got out, upside down. I could see that there were two car numbers on the sheet and one of them was mine. I was not a happy bunny, I can tell you. It definitely looked like Sue was shacked up with this Prick. The bitch must be cheating on me, having an affair.

Now you might wonder why I didn't go rushing up to room 112, kick the fucking door down and break the guy's neck. To be honest and with hindsight, I wonder why I didn't do that myself now. But for some reason that I can't explain, I just walked quietly up to my room and sat on the bed staring out of the window. I must have been in shock or something.

Well, if you suddenly found that the woman you loved, the woman your whole life had revolved around for the last twelve years, was doing the dirty on you, you'd be in bloody shock!

From where I was sitting, I could see the path that led to the Harvester Pub next door. I must have sat there for two or maybe three hours, my mind going back over our marriage, trying to think of a reason for Sue to cheat. Or was there anything in her past that would show me she had cheated before. I could think of nothing.

Suddenly I saw Sue and the Wilson Prick come walking along the path from the Pub. She was holding his arm and they were laughing, then they stopped and went into a clinch, kissing and cuddling. I hadn't seen them go out to the pub so they must have been in there when I arrived.

If I had been more with-it, I would have taken some photographs or something, but then, I didn't have a camera, so how could I?

They walked over to my Beamer and Sue got something out of, or I thought later more likely put something into the boot of the car, after that they disappeared from my sight towards reception. I sat for a while waiting, praying that Sue would come back into my view, going back to the car. But of course she didn't.

In desperation now, I called Sue's Mobile phone. It rang for sometime then went to voice mail. Then I called Sue's sister's house, Ann's husband Peter answered and explained that Susan had left early in the afternoon, as she said she was missing me and the kids and wanted to get back to see us.

"Like fuck!" I thought. "Sue wanted some time for fun and games with Wilson."

Then I rang my mother. She told me that Sue had called earlier. As planned, mum had not told her I was on my way to collect her; she had said I was out with friends and I would call Sue later. The plan had been for me to surprise Sue. Sue asked my mother to tell me not to call her this evening as she was going to get to bed early, so she could make an early start tomorrow.

'Right, now what do I do?' I thought. If I go rushing down to room 112, I could well stop Sue getting her arse shagged off. But then again, she's had all afternoon and has most likely fucked the Prick a few times already before I even got to Basingstoke. And then of course there was the point that she could always meet up with the bastard again sometime in the future. Come to that, how many times had she fucked him in the past and how many other guys has she been fucking behind my back over the years? Bollocks, it was obvious to me that our marriage was over. I ain't staying married to any slut that runs around on me.