A Parliamentary Private Secretary

She could no longer get through to me that easily. "Without me bothering you, don't you have more energy for his special kind of fucking? What was the word you used, dynamic?"

"I can't deny that I enjoy doing it with him but all he does is fuck me or stick his cock in my mouth, I don't think he knows any other way. You can fuck when it's the right time to fuck but you also know how to make love and that's what I miss."

Knowing that my wife had found a chink in my armour I cut the conversation short. That day was the second of a heat wave that was to last for another week, parliament was in recess and I also had several days free from work. It was extremely hot with the result that Debbie was always very scantily dressed, so after two or three day's exposure to her delectable body, you can imagine the effect on me. A night came when I lay uncovered in bed, sweating profusely with my throbbing penis pointing up at the ceiling and trying hard not to touch it.

A sudden noise drew my attention to the door to see Debbie standing leaning against the jamb. She was completely naked except for a film of perspiration. Her breasts thrust out seeming unusually full and her vulva appeared swollen like that of a primate in estreus. With a shaking voice she said, "I'm sure you want me and I know I want you so why are we doing this to each other. I need you so desperately, please make love to me."

The next moment my cock was inside her where it ached to be and we were fucking as if there was no tomorrow. It was frantic, it was fast and I ejaculated massive amounts but for the first time ever my cock remained stiff and we continued with tender leisurely lovemaking that lasted for hours. When we eventually slowed to a halt I accepted that, even though she would continue having sex with him, I could not manage without her.

With that decided I felt that I should more fully understand the situation. "What exactly attracts you to him," I asked gently. "He is at least twenty years older than you and to my eyes he's fat, ugly and obnoxious?"

Debbie smiled, "That's true and I don't actually like him very much. I don't admire his egotism and his nastiness but I do admire his energy, the way he gets important things done and the fact that he's got a phenomenal memory. Apart from that, although he is not physically attractive he has got a kind of aura but I'm not sure if that is a personal trait or just the power that he wields."

She thought a bit longer and then said. "It could be the place. At times the House of Commons is a mixture of bear pit and gladiatorial combat with the result that there is a whole lot of adrenaline and testosterone about. It's why so many top people have been caught out by sex like Paddy Ashdown, Geoffrey Archer, Jonathon Aitken, David Blunkett, John Prescott and Robin Cook. Then there are the ones where it is only revealed years later like Edwina Currie and John Major. There are almost certainly dozens more but the whips are very good at covering up indiscretions."

"That does explain the attraction but I still don't understand the pleasure that you admit he gives you," I said cautiously.

"Excitement," she said, without needing to think.

"And I don't?"

"Of course you do but it's a different kind of excitement. More importantly you always leave me feeing contented and he doesn't even come close. I far prefer what you give me but I don't really see why I can't have both."

This triggered a thought I had had before. "I think your time as an escort has possibly distorted your ideas on sex."

Debbie agreed. "You may be right; I don't understand why so much stress is put on exclusivity. If something gives pleasure and doesn't cause harm then I can't see a reason not to do it -- and that applies to you just as much as to me."

For some reason that I still don't understand that single sentence eased my mind more than any other.

We made love every night and often during the day but on the last night of the holiday, as I started my caresses Debbie asked, "Why don't you lick me anymore like you used to?"

"Because I don't want to put my tongue where his he has squirted his cum," I said simply.

"But I haven't been near him for over a week."

"That doesn't make any difference."

"Isn't that a bit illogical?" Debbie argued. "It's a bit like refusing to drive down a certain stretch of road because a fatal accident once happened there."

That was true and I suddenly recognised another illogicality in the fact that I had no problem kissing her. With a mental block magically removed, I moved quickly down her body and the moment my tongue touched her sweet slit it felt as if I had never been away. It was pure delicious joy, sheer heaven and possibly the most pleasurable activity in my life.

For the next year our lovemaking became exactly as it had been before I discovered her infidelity. At the start, her continuing to go with him did cause me some mental problems but over time it became far easier. It got so that I could happily perform oral on her when she had been with him just the night before and the only time I skipped doing it was when Debbie warned me that he had cum inside her earlier in the day. On those occasions I soon learned to tell how recently that had been by the relative silkiness of her cunt when I put my cock in her.

At the end of that period, Debbie arrived home from work one night to announce, "John has invited us both to spend the weekend at his place in the country and meet his wife. He said that he's planning to reallocate an important government contract and he wants to discuss it with you."

On the face of it this was good news because it suggested that John was not going to renege on his promise concerning the Sherwood contract but something about the invitation left me feeling uneasy. I didn't really see that there was anything to discuss. There was also something else bothering me. I had only met John the once and had never really seen him and Debbie together so my mental defence over the past year had been to pretend that whatever happened between them was in a separate compartment of her life. The danger was that if I witnessed them interacting then my hard won peace of mind might crumble away. The saving grace was that, with John's own wife present, I could convince myself that nothing was likely to occur.

The 'place in the country' turned out to be a mansion standing in extensive manicured grounds. We were admitted by a butler and shown into a large sitting room where John and his wife Barbara were waiting. She was tall and elegant with shoulder length rich auburn hair and it was obvious that in her younger days she must have been a very beautiful woman. After introductions, as we sat I made a complimentary remark about the impressive house but Barbara gave a little laugh and explained, "It isn't ours, it's a grace and favour residence that comes with John's job."

He had remained standing and now he beckoned to Debbie saying, "Come with me, I want to show you the upstairs." I started standing to follow but stopped when he said, "No, you stay and keep Barbara company, this won't take very long."

As they left I glanced over at Barbara but she only shrugged. "Have you known John long?" I asked hoping to hide how awkward I felt.

"We've been married for thirty-three years," she said. "We met when he was still a shop steward. John isn't a scholar like you, he got into politics via the unions and that doesn't happen much any more."

I couldn't think of another question and had rather hoped Barbara would keep the conversation going but she seemed to be waiting. For something to do I gazed out the window pretending to admire the garden but after several minutes, just as I had resolved that I had to say something there was the unmistakeable sound of a bed creaking from directly over head. This quickly built up into a steady fast rhythm and nobody could be in any doubt that it was the sound of a couple fucking. Very embarrassed I sat with gritted teeth staring straight ahead.

After a couple of loud squeals of pleasure, Barbara asked sympathetically, "How are you coping with John and your wife?"

"I'm managing," I said, although right at that moment I didn't feel that I was. "Has he done this before?" I thought to ask.

"For almost all of our thirty-three years together."

"Don't you mind?"

"At the start it hurt a lot and I hoped he would change but now it doesn't really bother me except at times like this."

"Why do you put up with it?" Even as I spoke I realised that she could ask me the same question.

"I love him and it's part of the kind of man he is. He also loves me in his own way. There have been a lot of highs along the way to compensate but my husbands main problem is that he doesn't do tender. My secret is that for the last twenty years I have had a friend of my own called Bill, and he gives me all the tenderness I need. I always come back to this country whenever John needs me but most of the time I live in France with Bill. John and I have a kind of symbiotic arrangement, I give him stability and a respectable background and in return he's very generous with money."

"So you are content?"

"On balance yes except when John pulls a stunt like this in front of me. He must be making a point and I'm afraid it has to be directed at you. There are other bedrooms he could have used, all with much quieter beds."

"When your husband retires which one will you chose, him or Bill?" It was academic interest but I wanted to know."

"I don't think John will live long enough to retire. He's overweight and still overeats, he smokes and drinks to excess and he is hyperactive. I think that is about the only exercise he ever gets," she said looking up at the ceiling.

As she spoke, as if to illustrate her words, the activity above became more frenzied with the sound making further conversation almost impossible, so we sat and listened as, punctuated by several massive orgasms, they built up to the inevitable conclusion. The 'performing' pair appeared mere minutes after the action ceased. Debbie entered first and had the grace to blush furiously when she found Barbara's eyes on her. His face was equally scarlet but I think from his exertions rather than embarrassment. He strode defiantly across the room and sat down.

There was an awkward silence until Barbara asked Debbie and me in turn which universities we had attended and reciprocated by telling about her own place of higher learning some thirty odd years ago. Then she volunteered the information, "John didn't go to university, he claims that he learned at the University of Life instead. That may be true but I believe that it has far lower academic standards, don't you?"

I tried to suppress a snigger at the jibe but Barbara hadn't finished. "My parents didn't want me to marry him you know. They said that I could do far better for myself but you have only to look round this place to see that was not completely true."

I don't know if John intended to respond but at that moment the butler entered to announce that dinner was served. We all filed into the dining room and for a time were too busy eating to talk. The food was to gourmet standard and it was delicious. When conversation restarted Barbara ensured that we stayed on university topics and whenever her husband tried to change the subject she had a ready put down such as 'John, nobody wants to talk about that now." I watched with pleasure as he got more and more frustrated. My image of Barbara as a long-suffering wife needed radical adjustment.

Suddenly she stood saying, "Come on Deb, it's time to leave to men to their port and cigars. My husband does like to live out his pretensions."

The moment they had left the room John snarled at me, "And you can wipe that smirk off your face for a start. I was going to talk to about the Sherwood contract but now you can bloody well wait until tomorrow."

He poured two glasses of port and ungraciously tossed me a cigar then sat morosely smoking until the grandfather clock in the corner struck ten. When he stood I followed his lead, at which point he turned and instructed, "When you get to your room, wait ten minutes and then send Debra to me I'm two doors along the corridor. I've decided that there's some leftover business that I want to deal with."

I waited until we were in the room where our overnight bags had been left before telling Debbie that her presence was required elsewhere. She did not seem at all perturbed at being dragged from my side and just kept checking her watched until the prescribed ten minutes had elapsed then headed out with the cheerful assurance, "This shouldn't take very long."

I undressed and got into bed with the torment of knowing that by now she would be with him. But this was nothing new because many times over the past year I had lain alone, very aware of the fact that somewhere, at that very moment, John was in the process of fucking the woman I loved. During that year I had learned to cope so why wasn't I coping now?

One difference had been the afternoon. Listening to rampant rutting in surround sound from directly overhead, the sex was not just in my mind, it had been all too real. I knew now that enduring that humiliation had had a greater impact on me than I had realised. And this time in that nearby room, they were not fornicating at some unknown location, he had his grotesque cock up inside her only twenty yards from where I lay. For some reason this combination of mental imagery and intense sexual arousal sent me into a kind of sexual hyper state.

Her 'not very long' turned into an hour and a quarter and I was almost going crazy when Debbie eventually skipped across the room and slipped into bed to snuggle her naked body up against mine. I kissed her hair and then each of her breasts causing small moans of contentment but when I started to move my head further down she panicked. Locking her hands under my chin to prevent further movement she said urgently, "You can't do that, he's just cum inside me, less than two minutes ago."

Grabbing her hands I roughly prised them lose saying, "I don't care. I want to do it, I need to."

There was a momentary struggle but then she relaxed, spreading her legs to give me easier access. As my face got lower, I was first aware of the heat radiating from her groin and when my probing tongue touched the skin near her vulva it felt feverishly hot. There was no sensation indicating the presence of semen until my tongue slipped inside the lips of her vulva and then it came flooding out as if it had been waiting for my touch to unlock the gates. There was no special taste and what there was not unpleasant but the texture seemed like a strange mixture of custard and glycerine.

The effect of my oral ministrations on Debbie was dramatic. She locked her heels behind my head, ground her clitoris against my nose and urged, "Yes, Yes, suck it all out of me."

Within seconds she was trembling all over and as I continued, the passionate cries caused by her massive orgasms must have echoed throughout the house. Some time later when I finally put my cock inside her I ejaculated immediately but she held me in place on top of her. At first entry, due to her stretched state of her cunt I had very little sensation of contact but now, somehow she managed to grip my softening penis with vaginal muscles and effectively milk me to another erection. The ensuing session of sensually making love lasted for many hours into the night.

During a lull I asked how it felt to have sex with two men within minutes of each other. "I've actually had two at the same time," she said. "When I was a working girl one of my favourite regulars recommended his best friend and he became a regular too. Then they both took me away for a long weekend and afterwards clubbed together to buy the necklace that I wore at the state banquet. Later that year one of them got me the matching earrings after a holiday in Monte Carlo."

Later as I lay waiting for sleep, with the heat gone from my brain, at first I was disgusted by what I had done. But then I rationalised that countless millions of women regularly ingested male cum so it certainly wasn't toxic therefore the only block on one man swallowing another man's semen had to be mental. I had overcome that barrier and that gave me a great deal of extra freedom. It meant that what I wanted to do was no longer constrained by his prior activities. I felt confident that I could now handle anything Debbie's lover threw at me but I no longer saw any point in looking forward to the end of their association because I was resigned to the fact that my wife would probably always find reasons to fuck other men.

Next morning I woke in an empty bed and on going downstairs found John eating alone in the breakfast room. In expansive mood he waved me in saying, "The girls have gone out picking fruit so we can have that chat postponed from last night." Pausing only to go and refill his plate he went on, "The Sherwood contract is all arranged and only awaits my signature but before I get round to that there's a small favour I want you to do for me."

I definitely did not like the sound of that but I still enquired what I could to help. "Next week it's the annual party conference at Blackpool," he said. "Last year I went alone and it was murder so this time I intend to take Debra with me for the week."

I did not like it but I reckoned I could manage for five days without my wife. "I don't see where I come in?" I told him.

"At the conference the paparazzi hunt in packs and the first things they check is hotel registers to see who has a room next to who. They'd clock on to me and Debra straight away so I need you there as well to cover for me. We will still have adjoining rooms but officially you will be booked in with your wife. You can of course sleep there at night but during the day I don't want you around. There is always the Pleasure Beach and you can get your pleasure there, ride on the bumper cars or something."

When I told Debbie about the arrangement, 'That should be fun,' was her only comment. During that week I passed the days quite pleasantly strolling along the seafront in the warm September sunshine. On only one day did wind and rain force me to seek refuge back at the hotel and there I split my time between the bar and lounge. Twice I spotted John and Debbie in the lobby when they popped out of the conference and found it more difficult than anticipated watching them walk to the lifts together.

Every evening, even though they had sex at least once every day, at nine o'clock Debbie went through the connecting door to return up to two hours later, full of cum and eager to give me my share. One time, in her keenness to be with him, Debbie left the connecting door open. I looked at it for several minutes but could not resist the temptation to peek. The obscene sight that met my eyes was his red, admittedly impressive, penis sticking out from under a substantial belly with my lovely wife slobbering over it as if it was attached to a veritable Adonis.

I should have retired quickly but, knowing I could not be seen, something kept me rooted to the spot. My wife was a beautiful, self assured and successful woman, the perfect role model for female liberation so I could not believe how submissive she was to him. He gave her frequent slaps that she apparently enjoyed, not playful taps but full bodied slaps that left vivid scarlet handprints on the creamy skin of her buttocks and when they fucked it was brutal, as if the word 'gentle' didn't exist in his vocabulary. I have said before that during sex my only motivation was to give her pleasure but during what I stood and witnessed that was completely reversed.

Two weeks later at work I was informed that I had been made a director with an important account to administer. My salary more than doubled. A few days afterwards, when driving home I was flagged down by the police and escorted to the outskirts of Hyde Park where John's limousine was waiting. I assumed that he wanted to talk about the contract but immediately I clambered into the back with him he said, "I won't beat about the bush, Debra is pregnant."