Beware of What You Wish For Pt. 02

I was going to be a millionaire. Many times over. Life was good. I just had to get through to the end because if anything went wrong I was going to lose everything.

IAN'S STORY

I'd been in America now for just over a month. I was working for Anderson's full time and loving it. Gina had called me virtually every day to start with but for a variety of reasons I couldn't bring myself to return her calls. I'd been so busy I'd not had time to give proper consideration to the problem of her infidelity. But I knew I had to come to a decision soon. I either had to forgive her or end it.

Several weeks had passed since my meeting with the Cresswell's and I'd started to grow concerned as to what, if anything, was happening back home. Doubts began to surface and with the passing of time those negative thoughts become harder to shake off but in this case all my fears proved to be unjustified.

I finally received a video call from Mr Cresswell. He began by asking me how I was getting on in America. I'd told him before I left where I was going. And then he was down to business.

"Well Ian, I have made my investigations and everything is as you insinuated. So for bringing this deception to my attention you have my heartfelt thanks. You also have my profound apologies for being party to your betrayal."

I murmured my thanks.

"I have already spoken to my lawyers regarding termination of the contract with Mr Wolfe and we may even consider suing him for breach of trust."

"How long will it be before your lawyers are ready to proceed?" I asked.

"A matter of days," Mr Cresswell replied.

"I take it you have another company lined up to take over the contract?"

"Indeed we have. We're just doing our due diligence checks on them at the moment. It may take us a little longer than normal, just to be on the safe side," he added with a faint smile. "We'll hold off on terminating the contract with Mr Wolfe until that time."

"How long do you think that might be?" I asked.

"We've been told that it could take four or five weeks."

"But isn't Paul's company starting the work soon?" I asked.

"Indeed they are. Next week I believe." He smiled and I understood.

"Thank you Mr Cresswell not only for your valuable time but also your compassion and understanding."

"Anytime Mr Mann. My wife was most insistent."

He smiled enigmatically. There was added emphasis to those last words and I knew immediately what he was inferring. I nodded my head in silent gratitude.

"Good luck Mr Mann and thank you again for your help," Mr Cresswell said.

"Anytime," I answered.

As I terminated the call I was hopeful that the legal delay would be enough time for Paul to have fully committed to the project. Only time would tell.

With stage two of my three stage plan now hopefully completed all that was left was the last and most painful part. What to do about Gina?

GINA'S STORY

I'd been out again with Paul. I knew deep down that I shouldn't but I was just so lonely. Ian was still refusing to take my calls or return my messages. I knew I was being weak but I couldn't help it.

The meal had been lovely. A six course extravaganza with a different wine to accompany each dish. Paul was at his most charming, very attentive and very witty. He took me back to my apartment and made us drinks. I didn't care anymore so I let him.

And now my breasts were sore, my nipples tender to the touch. My pussy lips were swollen and engorged. I ached to be touched down there. I guessed at some point during the evening he'd spiked my drink again because my urgent need for intimate contact was driving me to distraction.

And it didn't matter who it was with either. I was so beside myself with arousal that anyone would have done. Male or female. But it just so happened to be Paul that was with me.

He moved closer, his hand sliding up my arm, his eyes locked solid on mine, trying to gauge my reaction.

I couldn't help myself. I shivered as he touched me, my nerve ends tingling with desire. Not for him but for what he could do for me. The dull, throbbing, aching need between my legs became an unfettered torrent of desire. I shuddered. Paul definitely saw that.

He pressed himself to my body, his hand already on my leg and moving quickly up my inner thigh. I couldn't help myself. I altered my stance, shifting my legs and opening up my pussy preparing myself for the acceptance of his fingers.

He leaned into me, his lips so close to mine. I held my breath in anticipation.

"Do you want me Gina?" he whispered seductively.

"No ..." I managed to gasp out in reply. "I hate you ... I hate you with every fibre of my being ... with all my body and soul. You've ruined my life ... and I hate you for that."

He smiled enigmatically at me as his fingers made contact with my panties. I gasped loudly at the contact, blood rushing into my head. I was confused, disorientated. Where was I? What was I doing here?

He pushed his fingers against my pussy, just tracing around my pussy lips, making me wet, making me hornier than I already was. Concentrating my mind. My eyes closed as I bit my lower lip and I groaned.

It was a deep, primeval groan of lust. I licked my lips and swallowed hard as his fingers pressed firmly against the fabric of my panties. He began to rub softly, which was so cruel. I wanted them inside me. I wanted them to be rammed hard inside of me. And if not his fingers, then his big, hard cock would do. I just wanted the strange feeling I had between my legs to stop. I didn't think I could stand it for much longer.

I opened my eyes to see he was smiling at me. It was a cocky smile of triumph. I was shuddering with arousal as he continued to tease me down below, his fingers still so soft with their contact. His other hand came up to cup one of my breasts. He squeezed it hard, so hard I winced. It was in total contrast to what he was doing to my pussy but it nearly made me cum on the spot.

"Please ..." I groaned.

"Please what? What do you want Gina? You only have to ask." He was grinning malevolently and I realised why I hated him. But then he eased a finger inside my panties and entered the gooey mire between my legs.

"Ohhhh ... fuuuck," I moaned, trembling from the intense sensation I now felt. I suddenly felt weak. I needed to sit down and fast. Paul sensed that and supporting me, walked me over to the sofa. He helped me to sit down and then took the seat next to me.

I watched in a detached stupor as he undid the buttons of my blouse. I made little effort to stop him as he tugged it free of the waistband of my tight pencil skirt. Once free he slipped it off my shoulders and tossed it onto the floor. My bra swiftly followed.

"Ohh fuck Gina, your tits are fantastic," Paul said as he took hold of my left breast. He hefted it around in his hand for a few seconds before squeezing and groping it hard. My nipple responded immediately. He flicked across it with his fingers a couple of times. It grew harder, the feeling of tenderness almost impossible to bear.

I gave no thought to my actions as I lifted my bum up off the sofa to make it easier for him to remove my skirt and panties. My hips began to rotate as I squirmed down into the cushion. He was driving me wild. I knew I was soaking wet between my legs. I could feel it. I spread my legs wider hoping that he would take the hint that I was ready to accept his phallus.

He stood and quickly undressed. His cock was already erect and hard as he lowered himself down on top of me. I spread my legs as he leant in and I felt his cock pushing against my pussy lips.

"Ohh god," I grunted loudly as he entered me. I grimaced as he pushed forward, forcing more of his thickness inside me. I coiled my arms around his neck and pulled him in closer and kissed him hard.

He paused briefly as he enthusiastically returned my kiss before he flexed his hips to bury a bit more of his cock inside my pussy. And then he proceeded to fuck me, his hips rising and falling as he steadily and rhythmically pumped his cock in and out of my hot pussy.

I grunted and groaned as he took me to fresh heights of passion and arousal. For a while I was insatiable, mindlessly crying out my joy to the world of how good it felt to be fucked like this.

And then it was over. Paul came inside me and then rolled off. I lay there catching my breath, waiting for my passion to subside. But it didn't.

The fire still raged. I needed to be satisfied. I needed to be fucked again. I looked across at Paul and saw his cock was limp and flaccid. I struggled up and grabbing hold of his shaft took it inside my mouth. I was as surprised as Paul. This wasn't like me at all.

It didn't take me long before I had him hard and then I was up on my hands and knees begging him to take me from behind. Paul was laughing maniacally as he pushed his hard cock back inside my pussy and started to fuck me again. I lost count of how many orgasms I had before Paul deposited another load of his seed inside me.

I think Paul fucked me again, this time in the bed, before he left but I can't really remember. I was pretty much out of it by then. I can't actually remember him leaving but I was on my own when the phone rang the next morning. I struggled to find it and wasn't focused at all when I accepted the call.

"Hello," I said groggily.

"Gina, it's me, Ian."

Ohhh fuck! My husband had finally rung me and here I was, sat up in bed, with a mess of Paul's cum crusting between my thighs.

"Can you come out to America. I think we need to talk."

IAN'S STORY

What to do about Gina? That was the problem that was continuing to haunt me.

I'd loved her. Unreservedly for many years. We'd fit together perfectly. Or so I'd thought. But now I wasn't so sure that I loved her enough to get past this.

When you're far from home, especially in a foreign country - even if it is America - the nights alone can be long and lonely. It gave me too much time to think about Gina and our relationship.

I'm a fairly methodical person so I did my best to rationalise my thoughts and put them into some kind of order to try and make sense of what prompted Gina to cheat. I still wasn't buying the whole I was drugged excuse. Certainly not since my conversation with Mr and Mrs Cresswell. I came to the conclusion that no man truly understands the way a woman's mind works. I'm not even sure they do.

But throughout all my introspection there was only one thing that kept coming back to haunt me. Why? Why had a seemingly totally rational, intelligent person suddenly become a slut. Maybe I was being harsh calling her a slut but that's what anger can do to you. It can make you unnecessarily mean.

Was it my fault? After all, I had been the one to regale her with stories of Paul's prowess in seducing various females on my nights out with him. Maybe that had titillated her enough to wonder. Had it been that which had made her curious despite my blunt warning? Did she really expect that she could date him platonically but stop him from actually shagging her? Was it a dangerous game that she'd played but ultimately lost?

Or was it something even deeper? More than morbid curiosity? She knew Paul was fertile; god knows he had enough kids floating around to prove that; so had her desire to fulfil her female destiny been the reason? I couldn't impregnate her but surely Paul could?

I began to settle down into my new life in America. Before my first trip to the States I had read with some disquiet about the high levels of obesity, the junk food, the excesses, so decided to cut out meat and go onto a healthy vegetarian diet wherever or whenever I could whilst I was there. That didn't mean that I didn't enjoy the odd rib-eye steak now and again. But it was something that I had kept up with on my return to Britain.

I'd also cut way back on the drinking. The last few weeks had seen that spike quite alarmingly. Alcohol doesn't help solve problems. It just numbs the pain for a few hours that's all. When you wake up the next day the problem is still there but now you have a head that feels like shit.

I eventually plucked up the courage to call Gina. She sounded groggy when she answered, which was strange. I wondered briefly if I'd messed up when working out the time difference. She should have been up hours ago but no matter, it wasn't important.

I told her that we needed to talk but that she would have to come to me because I was now working for Andersons and would be staying in America for the foreseeable future.

She was beyond eager and took the next available flight out of the UK. The reunion was tense. I noticed immediately that she'd coloured her hair. It was now closer to auburn than strawberry blonde. I didn't know what her reasoning was although it did cross my mind that maybe she thought changing the colour would eradicate the old Gina and that therefore I would forgive her more easily. Or maybe she just fancied a change. It actually looked nice so I decided not to overthink it.

We tip-toed around each other like we were on a blind date and not a particularly good one. On the second night I took her out to a nearby bar for a drink. We both drank too much.

I admit I was weak. I hadn't had sex for weeks. It hadn't helped one bit that earlier I'd just happened to walk past the open doorway to the bathroom as she was getting ready. The first thing I noticed was her black stockings and suspenders and then the minuscule thong that disappeared into the deep, tight crevice between her arse cheeks. She was leaning forward as she applied her lipstick and my eyes were drawn to the mirror reflection of her breasts. Her bra could barely contain them, her cleavage was enticing. And her new hair colour did make her look like a different woman.

As we left the bar and she walked to the car in front of me I couldn't help but admire the sight of her shapely arse in her tight skirt and the curve of her legs in her high heels. And knowing what lay beneath the clothes only served to heighten my arousal. As she took her seat inside the car her skirt rode up high, exposing her luscious thighs and stocking tops to my gaze.

I looked at her breasts. Her chest was rising and falling provocatively with every breath she took. I looked at her face. Her eyes were beguiling, her lips pouty and appealing. Her perfume was intoxicating.

I couldn't help myself. The dam broke as we simultaneously attacked each other. We kissed hard and sloppily, our hands roaming over each others bodies as lust consumed our senses.

She groaned loudly as I mauled at her breasts, squeezing and groping them, feeling her nipples quickly grow hard and erect. She pawed at the bulge in my pants, wrestling with the zipper as she strove to get her hands on my cock.

I lowered her seat backwards and scrambled over to her side of the car. My trousers were around my ankles, my cock exposed through the slit in the front of my boxer shorts.

Gina's skirt was pulled high up around her hips. I lowered myself down and as she pulled her thong to one side I entered her.

She gasped at the force of my entry and began to cry out as I fucked her hard. There was no element of love-making in what I did to her. I just took what I wanted as I all but raped her. I suppose in my sub-concious I was reclaiming what was mine.

It was all over as quickly as it had started. She orgasmed twice in quick succession before I exploded inside of her. Emotionally and physically exhausted I lay on top of her for what seemed an age until she patted my back.

"Ian, get up please. You're squashing me," she said quietly.

I clambered back over to my side of the car and pulled up my trousers. She didn't speak as she re-adjusted her skirt.

The drive back to my apartment was quiet. The silence palpable.

"Where do we go from here?" Gina said when we finally got inside.

I looked at her, an immense feeling of loss suddenly overwhelming me.

"I don't know," I answered, "I just don't know."

We went to bed and she clung to me tightly for a long time, neither of us speaking.

The next morning we had another heart to heart. We agreed to take it a day at a time. The days slipped by and we seemed to be getting stronger. The hurt still came to the fore every now and again but it was getting weaker.

Maybe everything would be okay in the end.

And then it wasn't.

* * * * * * *

"I'm pregnant!"

I stopped what I was doing and turned around to face her. I could see in her face that maternal glow. She looked both elated and downright scared.

"Congratulations," I said harshly, "have you told the father yet!"

"Yes ... just now. You're the father Ian."

I started to laugh. "Fucking brilliant Gina. So I'm the father am I? I don't think so. Have you forgotten that I'm infertile? Well have you!"

I started towards her. She cringed as if I was going to hit her. Of course I wouldn't. I wanted too though. Badly.

I walked past her and into the bedroom where I rooted around in a drawer until I found what I was looking for. I went back into the room and thrust the envelope into her hand.

"Go on - open it! Read it you fucking stupid bitch!"

With trembling fingers Gina took out the letter and opened it up. She gasped as she got to the bit that mattered.

"Yes ... right there ... the bit that states that I'm infertile!"

It was a report from a fertility test I'd had done at a clinic on my first trip to America. I was hoping that a test in an entirely different country might produce a different outcome to the several I'd had in Britain. Looks like I had been wrong.

"No it doesn't, it says you have a very low count. That's not the same thing," she said quietly.

"Of course it is! I've had numerous tests before and they all had the same outcome. And the bottom line is that despite everything ... I couldn't get you pregnant, could I?"

She put the letter back inside the envelope and dropped it onto the table. She looked up into my eyes and as I stared back I could see a realisation and then fear in hers.

And at that moment I knew.

FIVE YEARS LATER

IAN'S STORY

I kept in touch with people I knew back home and was delighted when I finally heard about the collapse of Paul's company. Cressida had pulled the plug and a desperate Paul had sued them for breach of contract. He lost the court case and the banks stepped in. He was ruined. He'd lost everything. I was elated but it was cold comfort as I'd lost much more. I'd lost the love of my life.

It had been hard. Don't let anyone kid you, moving to another country is tough. Life IS different. Shopping, banking, socialising ... it's all different. The only common bond was the language. But even that could be a minefield of misinterpretation.

After Gina left I moved out of my rented apartment and bought a house. My first and biggest fuck-up was when I told my new neighbour's wife; who had suggested we could be running buddies; that I would knock her up at six in the morning. Of course to a Brit that meant I would call round and knock on her door. Totally different here though. Luckily her husband laughed. She just raised an eyebrow and smirked. I would probably have to keep a wary eye out on her. There was no doubting that she was very attractive but unlike Paul I didn't go after married women.

I'd also been lonely. The nights were the worst. The days were fine, these were filled with my new job. I spent more and more time at work hoping that the numbing pain would eventually ease.

And eventually it did. As the weeks turned into months I finally allowed myself to be coaxed into going out with work colleagues. Invites to barbecues followed. Women were introduced to me and eventually I even started to date a little bit. Even had sex a few times. It was slow and steady but as time passed it got easier and the pain caused by Gina faded.