Chapter 2

By the time he arrived in his office the anger he had felt last night had returned etching a despondent glower on his face. The weight of his actions, for the near future amassed heavily on his shoulders. Only those that knew him well, would notice any difference, all they would see is the usual sad angry man, stooped over trying to hide from his own insignificance.

Just before noon he was quizzed by Charles Chiswick about his delay at the port. Had Martin not known the things he knew now, he would have wondered both why he was interested, and how he knew. He still wondered how he knew. After returning to his office Martin pondered on this, as he saw it there were several possibilities. The first and most likely was that his beloved wife had told her darling Franky. The second and third, either his car and or his house were fitted with electronic surveillance, other than he already knew about.He or his house was being watched or that fucking copper had a mole in his department.

His blood ran cold at the last idea, if that were the case then he was as good as dead. Once that thought hit him it wouldn't go away, why hadn't he got a number to contact that copper. fuck me a name might have helped. He thought to himself. He managed to come up with some ideas to put his mind at rest for some, but the mole idea was something that he would be unable to resolve. It didn't matter if it were the case or not.

Every time a door banged, every loud noise or voice caused Martin to jump. As he drove home in the evening he expected a gunman to jump out at every traffic light, to see a gun in every car that passed. He was not even reassured when that car was a police car.

He got home without incident, but was still full of trepidation as he crossed the threshold and closed his door behind him.

For the first time in many years Angie greeted him with passion. She ran to him, and wrapped her arms around him. Lifting her mouth to his, sucking hard on his lips as if she wanted to devour him. She ground her body against him, giggling softly as she moved her hand to rub him through his trousers as he responded. With a well practised hand she deftly unzipped him. As she held him in her hand and expertly manipulated him, he wondered where she had learned to do that. Certainly not with him. Was this how she greeted Franky? How many times? He wondered, had the cow fed him her lovers spunk?"

The thought pulled the blood from his tumescent organ, and he said, "Something smells nice, what's for tea?"

He looked at her, she seemed disappointed and confused her mouth fluttered as she struggled to answer. "Wha'... ? ... why di... ? er ... Steak and ale pudding, mash veg and gravy." He caught a glimpse of her eyes watering up before she let go of him and dashed upstairs. Martin felt a tear forming as well. He also felt confusion, was she having second thoughts? Had she come back to him? Should he try and take her with him on his next, his final trip to Europe?

He looked up the stairs, thinking about going to her, but the thought of her with Grimard sprang back, bringing with it memories of the many times she had pushed him away, the knowledge of what she had made him do, he shuddered at the thought remembering the syringe full of spunk. He looked for, and found her handbag, he looked through its contents, the syringe was gone. His stomach heaved at the thought, but he managed to swallow it back down. The cooking food smelled good, but he now had lost his appetite. He moved through to the lounge and poured himself a scotch and flipped on the television. He heard her come back down the stairs and busy herself in the kitchen.

He sat in front of the TV, not so much watching it, but having a visible focus, he knew his rejection had been a bad move, he also know it was instinctive, and not so much rejection as revulsion. He lit a fag and went over the things he had been told, how he should behave normally at home, how he should have last night chomped down the soiled salad and said thankyou, he also thought about the change in her attitude, was it the slap? or was it because he just fucked her like a street whore? Either way, he liked the change, he also liked the greeting he received. He mulled it over until she called him through to eat.

He poured himself another scotch before joining her in the kitchen.

One of his favourite meals, one she had not prepared for him for at least two years, he felt sorrow as he looked down at the meal before him. He felt anger as he realised it had been that long, the rot in his marriage must have been there a long time. Putting the idea out of his head that the feast on his plate could contain an ingredient he did not want to eat he tentatively took a fork full to his mouth.

His tastebuds exploded with pleasure as he chewed his first morsel, it was better than he remembered, either she had excelled herself, or shitty spunk added something. His stomach churned at the thought, he struggled to keep himself under control.

"Everything all right darling?" she asked, seeing the discomfort on his face.

He finished chewing and swallowed before he answered. "Really good love, seems like ages since you cooked this for us. Sorry about earlier, didn't mean to reject you, just a bit of a shock. It's been a long while since you welcomed me home from work like that. No, not a shock, er, just caught me by surprise, er perhaps we could try again after tea?"

Her face beamed. Again Martin thought sadly, it has been a while since I saw "that" smile from her. She didn't wait, in seconds she was under the table trying to suck her way back into his life.

Tonight has surely reminded me of some of the reasons I married her. as he chomped down another morsel and she chomped down on his. But I don't remember her getting all of me down like that before.

Last night when she had, "followed her orders" and sucked him to completion, she had done just that, wanked him off with her mouth. Today, she made love to his cock. She sucked, she nibbled, she teased. She used her tongue, her teeth and her lips, she brought him close and backed off, time and time again, keeping him on the verge of fulfilment, maintaining both his erection and pleasure. She too had forgotten the pleasure she got from giving him pleasure, his whimpers and groans keeping her already full lips smiling.

Martin had given up trying to eat, her ministrations prevented him from coordinating his arm to feed himself, but all good things come to an end, and eventually she took him over the edge and as he came she took him all the way down, swallowing instinctively with each spasm of his penis. Heightening his pleasure, many degrees past all he had known before. In the first time for forever he experienced true rapture.

It took time for him to come down from the pinnacle of pleasure she had taken him to, time before he was conscious of anything other than a warm pleasurable glow stemming from deep within himself. After a while, he saw her looking at him, smiling both at him, and with her pride in herself. She sat quietly waiting for him to break his silence.

Eventually he spoke.

"Wow!"

With that, he reached for his glass, puzzled for a second until he realised she had refilled it, he raised it to her, and spoke again.

"Thankyou."

For a second Martin wanted to dive over the table, take her in his arms and kiss her, but he remembered the things he had seen last night. He knew where she had practiced those skills and with whom. He felt the anger rising again, he knew he had to control it, with difficulty he forced himself to think of something else.

"Done anything today?" he asked her.

"Nothing much, bit of shopping. Housework, cooked dinner." she replied.

"That it, didn't you go see someone, no one came round." he pressed.

"No, oh, I talked to Charlotte on the phone." she said.

Ah! Martin thought to himself, Charlotte worked for the Grimm, he didn't know her official capacity but suspected she was one of the Grimm's whores, most if not all women that worked for him were. It was probably her that informed the Grimm of his delay.

"She told me that, that man she works for Frank ... Francois Grimard has a position going, I thought I might apply, she said she would put a word in for me."

Martins mind raced, on the one hand he did not want his wife to work for that bastard, on the other she deserved everything she got. Then again why should that bastard get his own way.

Making a decision he spoke, careful not to say anything to slate the Grimms character that might get back to him. "We don't really need you to work, we manage well enough. I would rather things stay as they are, you looking after the house and me, while I go out and work, it fulfils the primaeval man in me."