The Bank Statement

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Our third date was a defining moment. I'd looked forward to it like an adolescent, hoping against hope that all would go well. Hoping that I might get her into bed, but even more than that, praying that the date would go well, that she would be happy, and that the awkward tensions of our previous date would not resurface.

We met in neutral ground, half way between London and Cambridge, at a lovely little Inn that I had discovered some months before. It was an inspired choice, and Jenny was relaxed from the start, everything I could have wished for, from the moment she turned every head in the place when she arrived, till she whispered in my ear at the end of our meal.

"Do they have rooms here Jim?" She asked, and my prayers seemed answered.

It would be difficult to describe how wonderful that night was, but I'll try. I was no virgin by a long, long way, but it seemed that I had discovered one, a rare find in one so beautiful, already into her twenties. She was so nervous as I undressed her, as if I had been the first one to ever do so, shivering as I undid her dress and allowed it to drop to the floor, breathing in deeply and holding her breath, as I unclasped her bra and slipped it off her, and whispering "Oh God. Oh, my God," as I slid her tiny lace panties slowly down her long slim legs.

I rested her down back on the bed, determined that if it was to be her first time, then she would never forget it.

I caressed her naked body, marvelling at the softness of her supple young skin, and the firmness of her breasts. Smiling as Jenny snatched at my hands to stop me, then quickly withdrew them again, unsure of how to behave.

"No Jim, no," she murmured as my fingers toyed with the narrow, neatly trimmed strip of pubic hair that nestled at the top of her legs, but made no attempt to impede me, her thighs shaking uncontrollably as she lost the battle with herself to keep them tightly closed.

Jenny gasped with delight, as I slipped one finger down onto the wonderful warm folds of her vagina, clenching her teeth and grabbing tightly at my arm as it slid deliciously through into wet fleshy slit beyond.

Her breathing was heavy and rapid, her eyes closed, as my finger explored even further, running slowly up and then down her moist furrow, her body jerking almost out of control as I quite deliberately stroked and played with her swollen clitoris.

"Jim... Jim... please Jim," she whispered huskily, but the rest was lost, as a shudder ran through her lovely body, that could only have been one thing.

Her body relaxed, and she lay back, opening her eyes at last, looking up at me with an expression that said only one thing.

"I love you Jim... I really love you," my woman stuttered uncertainly. "I think I'm ready now.... Please be gentle."

I stood up, and started to undress, Jenny watching me, then blushing and turning away in embarrassment, as I slid my underpants hurriedly down.

Gently easing her legs a little wider, I knelt on the bed in between them, and leant forward, in no hurry, cupping her breasts, and kneading them firmly, enjoying the hardness of her erect nipples, jutting out from the softness of her silky flesh.

Jenny was staring up at me, a startled look in her eyes, like a kitten who had been surprised when at play, uncertain if it was in danger. Then her eyes dropped, nervously, looking slowly down my naked body, breathing in suddenly as if in fright, when she caught sight of my erect cock hovering just inches from her exposed pussy, her thighs closing up protectively, only my legs preventing them from doing so.

"Oh Jim. Are you sure?.... Will it be alright?.. Please don't hurt me."

I leant further forward, and kissed her gently on the lips.

"It'll be OK my love," I promised her. "I'll be gentle... It'll be OK."

At the first touch of the tip of my hard cock against the softness of her pussy, she shuddered, her legs clamping even more tightly against mine as her body instinctively fought to protect her sex from me.

Jenny arched her back and pushed at my arms, gripping them tightly as my cock slid slowly through the slippery folds, and rested at the entrance to her vagina, where I held it, savouring the moment, confident there was no going back.

"Yes Jim... Do it now...For God's sake do it now," she cried, and I saw a tear rolling down her cheek, as lust took over from her fear, and at last she willingly spread her legs open wide.

"Oh Jim it's wonderful... It's.... oooh... Oh my God... Oh Jim."

Her lovely body went taught, and shuddered under me, as I slid my cock slowly but deliberately through into the warm depths of her.

"Wait, hold it there," she called almost in panic, as I started to withdraw. "I beg you hold it there."

I did so and Jenny groaned, this time her turn to savour the moment, and then slowly started to grind herself carefully against me, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she panted for breath, getting used to me inside of her, whimpering with pleasure, as each small movement sparked off a new sensation inside her.

Slowly, carefully, I took back over control from her, withdrawing just a little, then pushing gently back in. Withdrawing just a little more, then returning to her depths, each stroke gradually gaining in length and vigour, till she took up the rhythm, matching my thrusts with her own movements, squealing in pleasure as I made love to her, and she returned it in full........

We lay silently in each other's arms, relishing one another's nakedness, both satisfied and contented.

"Thank you Jim," Jenny whispered into my chest, "Thank you my love."

I kissed her, and told her how much I loved her as well.

"I needed that Jim," she said after a few moments. " I've needed that for a long time, and I'm just so glad it was you."

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The second time that I followed Jenny was even easier. I knew the hotel where her meeting was scheduled, and I let Jenny get ahead, arriving half an hour or so after her, and wondering what the hell I was doing there, and quite what was I going to do.

I slunk into the reception area; terrified that she would spot me, having no idea what explanation I could possibly make for my being there. She wasn't there of course, why should she be, so I made my way to the bar, peeping in, already having decided that this was all so stupid, so childish, and that I would leave immediately if she wasn't there.

But Jenny was there, in the bar, chatting to some guy. She was sat with her back to me, but I knew it was her, and the man she was talking to looked American, much older than Jenny, maybe in his late fifties, expensively dressed, and impeccably groomed.

I felt the tension draining out of me, as I realised that he was exactly as he should be, a rich client of the agency, obviously some businessman that she was discussing some arrangements with.

I felt such a fool, cursing myself for suspecting that Jenny had been involved with some man, though I hadn't even allowed myself to admit to those thoughts till that moment.

What was I to do then?

I was still no nearer to the truth about the money, but at least my main fear had been allayed, and she wasn't having an affair. Maybe this guy was something to do with all the money she'd been hiding away, but I was no super sleuth, and had no way of progressing further.

Go home, I thought to myself. Just go home and stop being so silly. Another few hours wasted, driving up to London and back, just because of my stupid doubts.

Then Jenny stood up, and my stomach went tight. She looked fabulous and so sexy in a tight black mini dress that just skimmed below her bottom, leaving her long slim legs so bare, and moulding round her body so that even from across the room, I could see she couldn't possibly have been wearing a bra.

The tightness in my middle gripped tighter, but it wasn't how gorgeous my wife looked, but that I'd never seen that dress before, and it certainly wasn't the smart grey skirt suit that Jenny had left our house in, just a few hours before.

My chest went tight, but I told myself I was being silly again, unreasonable, why wouldn't she change for an evening meeting? Why shouldn't Jenny look sexy to impress an important customer?

Then she laughed at something he said, and smiled at him, our smile, the one that would light up the street outside. The smile that I always imagined she reserved for me. Worse, she reached up to him and put her hand on his chest, playfully, coquettishly, not the sort of gesture a woman would make to a business client, not unless she knew him well... Very well indeed!

The thought that it could be a friend of her father's flashed through my mind, an old family friend maybe, like an uncle. But I was clutching at straws, and when Jenny reached up, stretching on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, my world started to go black. A dark rage come over me, only getting worse as he bent down and returned the kiss, but directly on her lips, the two of them holding it for longer than any Uncle and niece had a right to.

The prick. The bastard. The cheating fucking bastard. I'd kill him.

But I could only stand there and watch as Jenny played up even more to him, cuddling up to him as he put his arm affectionately around her, grinning at him, as she so often did to me, as he patted her bottom, moulding her gorgeous body into his, as he squeezed her tightly.

I couldn't breath. I needed air, but I couldn't leave. Couldn't pull myself away from the dreadful scene being played out before my eyes. They kissed again, this time with even more feeling, and Jenny, my beautiful sweet Jenny, seemed blissfully lost in the company of this unknown man.

"Can I help you sir?"

I looked round, and there was some uniformed flunky, questioning my right to be there. Questioning my right to watch my beloved wife make out with some bastard stranger.

"Fuck off!" I shouted, far too loudly.

It all got out of hand after that, and he called for help, three of them manhandling me out to the back entrance, as I watched Jenny going off with this stranger, laughing at his no doubt stupid bloody jokes, running her hand up and down his back, and making no objection as he reached down and cupped the cheeks of her arse, squeezing it, as if he owned it, his fingers curling round the bottom of her skimpy dress, and stroking the bare flesh at the very top of her thigh...

I found myself on the floor in a back alley, a few scratches on my face but no serious harm done. I made my way back to the front, and stormed back in, determined to confront her, to find out what was going on.

But the security guys caught me again, threw me out on my ear, threatening to be less gentle if I didn't bugger off, unwilling to listen to my pleas that my wife was in there with another man.

I slinked off, searching hopelessly up at the windows, wondering which set of curtains they were hidden behind, and the thought of what that bastard was doing to my Jenny, my dearest Jenny, tearing at my soul.

What hold did he have over her? Where did the money come into this?

Damn it!... Fuck it!.... The money didn't matter any more. My wife Jenny was in there somewhere being fucked by her lover, and I was powerless to stop it.

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After that last date, things went wonderfully. I felt like a teenager in love again, and it just never seemed to go away. Jenny seemed the same, and I met her parents, who seemed overjoyed that at last someone had won her heart.

We were married six months afterwards, the biggest wedding I'd ever been to, or ever likely to, all paid for by her wealthy parents, who seemed more interested in making a good show, than anything else.

I vaguely tried to find out if she had some troubled past experience, why she had apparently still been a virgin in her twenties in this day and age, but she didn't wish to discuss it, promising to tell me all about it one day, and we were so happy, so in love, that it didn't seem to matter anyway.

The first six months were bliss. Unless you worked for me of course, in which case it seemed that nobody could get much sense out of me. It didn't matter, as everyone was happy for me, even my competitors so touched that they didn't take too much advantage.

Like hell they didn't!

It came as a wake up call, when we lost a big account, and I had to put a lot more effort into my business, not that I neglected Jenny however. But she felt the difference I supposed. Lost a bit of her spirit, and acted a bit down.

"What's up Jenny love?" I asked for the tenth time, not really expecting a sensible answer.

She looked at me, sighed, and at last told me.

"I'm a bit bored," she admitted. "Not with you, not at all, your wonderful."

I smiled back at her, happy to hear her say it even though our lovemaking had waned considerably over the last few months.

"I need something to interest me. Keep my brain working. Maybe I could do a bit of work for my old agency."

She'd stopped working for them just after our marriage, and had seemed happy, but it was true that just lately there was obviously something missing in her life.

"Would they take you back? Have you asked them?" I ventured, thinking it might be a good idea.

Jenny smiled. It was that smile, and I knew her mind was made up, and that I had no argument, even if I thought of one.

"They've rung me every month since we were married. They're desperate for me to go back," she sung out. "I've sort of suggested that I might go back and do a bit, just part time."

It was settled. The following week she went back up to London to see them, and started a few days later, doing some afternoon meeting thing for them.

She came home that evening full of smiles, happy as Larry. She'd had a great day, and all was well again. The Mathews household was back on track.

I had nothing to complain about, as Jenny rediscovered her zest for life, and the energy for sex. Even more than before, though I wouldn't have thought it possible.

Jenny had always liked straightforward sex previously, which I put down to her lack of experience, shying nervously away from anything out of the ordinary. But from then on, she became liberated, totally, prepared to try anything, only sucking my cock still being off the menu, but often demanding that I eat her sweet little pussy, which she had never been keen on me doing before. It was surprising how naturally good at it all she was, and how much she loved it.

I had no idea why I deserved this unrivalled pleasure. I didn't worry about it, and I just enjoyed it. The next two years or so were incredible, the earlier problems having disappeared. We spent every possible spare moment together, and I pined when she was out for the evening, even more so when she was away for a whole weekend, in Paris, New York or where ever. But her job took her mainly down to London, and when ever I could, I tried to arrange something, so that I could meet her down there and have lunch, before she disappeared off for the evening to some function or other.

Then I found that Bank statement, and it all changed.

I couldn't believe she was cheating on me, but the evidence was there, I'd seen it, I'd seen her kissing and cuddling up to her boyfriend in the hotel. I'd seen his hand on her arse, his fingers disappearing up under the back of her short dress. Christ they were only an inch from her pussy, and there was no doubt in my mind that they had ended up inside it not much later on. The thought of that bought tears of frustrated rage to my eyes.

How could she do this?

How could she betray me like this?

What was so special about this American guy?

What did he have that I didn't, a bigger cock or what?

Dammit, he was twenty years older than me, thirty years older than her.

Maybe it was someone she worked with, but he looked well off, so perhaps it was her boss, and I seemed to remember her saying that one of the directors was an American. However close a working relationship, bosses aren't allowed those liberties, not unless there's something going on. My mind went in circles, till I felt like bursting into tears. Maybe this had been going on for some time. Maybe that's why she wanted to go back to work for them.

Maybe... Oh damn it. I didn't know what to think.

It was a Thursday, the morning after I'd been thrown out of the hotel, and I just couldn't take it any more. I'd heard Jenny's car arrive home in the early hours, and I wondered how many other times she had come home this late when she'd been with him, without me knowing, when I was fast asleep.

It was sometime before she came up to bed, and even in the gloom I could make out that she'd changed into her night gown already, maybe showered in the spare bedroom as well, maybe so that I wouldn't detect the smell of her lover on her, or find traces of his cum on her body in the morning.

I was livid, but determined to hold on till the morning. If I was going to throw her out, then tough on her, but if it was me to be walking out the door, then the early hours weren't too welcoming.

I still preyed that there'd be an explanation, and that in the morning she'd laugh about it, and tell me about the stupid prick trying to take advantage of her.

She snuggled up to my back, but I pretended to be asleep, refusing to be aroused from my slumbers, even though she cuddled up close, wrapped her arms around me, and kissed the back of my neck. Then she slid her hand around and took my limp cock in her hand, teasing it, to bring it alive, but even without me trying, it didn't respond, neither it, nor me being interested. I doubted whether we would ever be sleeping together again, never mind making love.

It was with some relief to me that she eventually gave up, probably to her as well.

She wouldn't have to pretend any more.

The next morning I was up and dressed long before her, but then I hadn't had such an energetic evening, as she had no doubt experienced.

"Hi sweetie," she called out as she breezed into the living room, her loveliness almost making me change my plans. "How are you this morning?"

I didn't reply, just sat there impassively my heart thumping, and she looked round at me, the cup in her hand crashing back to the table as it slipped from her hand.

"What on earth happened to you," she cried. Her concern could almost have been genuine, the two bruises that had been added to the cuts on my face the second time I'd been thrown out, were obviously a bit of a surprise.

Jenny made to run to my side, but I held my hand up to stop her. Maybe the look on my face had more to do with it.

"What's up Jim? What happened?" She demanded urgently.

"I got thrown out of a bar last night." I replied tersely.

I didn't get the response I expected, but I should have foreseen it.

"What? You? Thrown out of a bar," she squealed in her oh so English accent. "You stupid man you. What did you do get drunk or something?"

She looked at me and grinned, almost giggled as she imagined me, the pillar of respectability, getting thrown drunk out of some pub. " Hope it wasn't the Bull Jim, we're supposed to being going there tomorrow night."

The grin on her face died as she realised I wasn't smiling back. From now on I would begin to enjoy this little discussion, and in some small way, I would make her suffer for what she had done to me.

"What's up Jim?" She asked simply.

"Sit down," I instructed. "You may need to."

I waited a few moments, savouring the tension in her face. She knew something was up, but had no idea what. Now the shoe was on the other foot.

"It wasn't a pub I was thrown out of, it was a bar. A hotel bar."