Broken Dreams

After dinner one evening, while Richard was helping his friend with the car restoration project, Ann found herself alone with Juan, sharing the rest of a bottle of delicious Spanish red wine that Juan had provided. They were sitting together on the sofa, watching some meaningless TV game show, but Ann had the impression Juan was in a pensive mood.

"Ann," he eventually said, "I need to tell you something, but first I want to thank you once again for welcoming me into your home. I know you were a bit reluctant, but you will not have to put up with me for much longer. There is a good chance I can rent a small apartment not far from here, but it won't be available until next month."

"That's good news, Juan," she replied, "but please don't think we are simply putting up with you. We enjoy your company and I will definitely miss you when you go. Have you told Richard?"

"Not yet," Juan replied. "It's not definite, so I would like to wait until then."

"Okay, if that's what you would prefer I won't tell Richard."

"Thanks, Ann. Would you like me to give you a massage now?"

"That would be nice. Relaxing with a couple of glasses of wine was a good idea, but finishing up with a massage would be really lovely, if you don't mind."

"For you, Ann, it would be my pleasure."

The two of them made their way to Juan's bedroom, where he stripped the bedclothes off the bed, then placed a towel on the bottom sheet. Meanwhile, Ann switched on a small table lamp that stood on a chest of drawers and closed the bedroom curtains. Juan switched off the main bedroom lights, leaving the room in the watery glow of the table lamp while Ann removed her jeans and tee shirt and lay face down on the bed in her bra and panties. She reached behind her and unfastened her bra.

Juan swung his leg over Ann and knelt astride her. He poured some oil on his hands, rubbed them together to ensure the oil was warm and started on Ann's back. Not a word was spoken as he massaged up and down her back, then down and back up each leg, making sure his thumbs were rubbing right up the inside of her legs to the edge of her little white panties. Ann appeared totally relaxed, but he repeated the whole process once more, just to make sure.

Pleased with his work so far, Juan stood next to the bed. "How about you turn over now and I can do your front?" he asked.

Ann hesitated for a brief second then turned over, clasping her bra loosely to her chest. Juan slowly started massaging her legs from the ankles upwards, paying special attention to her thighs. His hands moved slowly and deliberately towards her panties, his thumbs between her thighs, circling teasingly close to her pubic mound before moving away again.

Once again he swung a leg over her, this time sitting directly on her crotch as he oiled up his hands, then he ran his palms over her abdominal area, softly caressing her curvy tummy. Through his loosely fitting jogging pants, Juan could sense the heat emanating from Ann's pussy and he thought he could smell her arousal. He smiled down at her while she looked into his eyes, trembling slightly and biting her lip.

"Now I'm going to give you a Spanish massage," he told her, reaching for her hands, then moving them away from her chest and tossing her bra aside. She sucked in her breath as he slowly manipulated her soft breasts, rubbing her rosy nipples with his thumbs. He poured some oil onto the middle of her chest then pushed her breasts together, moving them one against the other in the slick sheen.

Pausing for a moment, he pulled his jogging pants down far enough to free his prick, which emerged semi-erect and twitching with anticipation. Juan shuffled forward until the head of his prick lay between Ann's tits, which he squeezed together to create a soft channel for his prick to penetrate. He could see the excitement glinting in Ann's eyes as she stared in fascination and he started slowly fucking her tits.

Thrusting between Ann's tits, Juan soon established a steady rhythm and Ann felt her excitement inexorably mounting. He quickly rid himself of his jogging pants, before returning to thrust his prick even further up between her tits. Eventually he had his knees under her arms and she excitedly took over squeezing her tits together while he leaned forward vigorously humping her chest, his prick inches from her panting mouth. Passion and desire overwhelmed Ann as she felt orgasmic bliss surging through her.

"Madre de Dios! You are such a beautiful woman, Ann!" Juan exclaimed. "Look how you are making me so excited. Let me finish in your mouth!"

Without thinking, Ann opened her mouth as Juan pressed forward, then he pushed his swollen prick between her lips as he reached his climax. Caught up in the moment, Ann sucked and licked as shots of Juan's sperm filled her mouth. When he pulled out of her mouth she surprised herself by swallowing it all in one gulp.

This was new territory for Ann. She only rarely gave Richard a blowjob and it was usually either as a precursor to intercourse or she finished him off with her hand. From her limited experience with Richard, she had assumed semen would taste salty and slimy, but she found she quite liked the texture and aftertaste of Juan's ejaculate.

*

As a hairdresser, Ann worked every Saturday at the salon. Her days off were Sundays and Mondays, when the salon was closed. Richard and Juan played football on Saturday mornings and on Sundays Richard and Ann were usually out and about, doing some hill walking or visiting their parents. On Mondays, Ann tended to have a lazy morning and then go shopping at the local supermarket.

Juan's college course was full-time, but there were plenty of gaps in the schedule of lectures and tutorials, so it wasn't difficult for him to arrange to be at home the following Monday. When Ann eventually emerged from the main bedroom, wrapped in her thick white dressing gown, Juan made them some fresh coffee and they chatted about the weather and whether it would hold up for Ann's shopping trip that afternoon.

Despite or possibly because of the fact that they had already been fairly intimate, Ann readily accepted Juan's offer to give her a massage before she got showered and dressed for the day. Juan had left his bedroom curtains closed and he was pleased that Ann didn't hesitate to take off her dressing gown. Naked except for her white cotton panties, she lay face down on top of his bed while he took the small bottle of massage oil from the bedside table and poured some onto the palms of his hands.

Juan sat astride Ann, rubbing the warm oil onto her warm skin, knowing she would sense his hardening prick nudging up against her backside through the loose joggers he was wearing. His hands worked their way up and down her back and then each of her legs, his fingers and thumbs gently applying pressure to soothe and relax her muscles.

"Richard told me you were childhood sweethearts. Did you ever try kissing a few other boys?" he asked.

"Richard was the only one who was interested in me," she replied. "He didn't mind that I was chubby and unattractive."

"I can't believe you were ever unattractive, Ann," he said. "You are a very beautiful woman. In Spanish we say muy hermosa. Any man with eyes in his head can see that. In Madrid there would be many men who would be interested in you."

"Do you really think so?" she asked.

"Claro!" he replied. "You have beautiful soft skin, magnificent blonde hair and a pretty face to match your lovely figure. You are a perfect example of what a man looks for in a woman."

Well, thank you for the compliment," she responded with a smile.

"The only thing you need to add is a little bit of practice in bedroom skills. If you have never been with any other men it will be difficult for you to do your best for Richard. There are lots of amazing things you could learn. Of course, I could teach you and no one would ever know."

Ann looked back over her shoulder at the handsome young man sitting astride her legs. He would be moving out of her home before the end of the week and in a matter of months he would leave Scotland to return to Spain. She was curious and feeling more than a little horny. "What sort of things are you talking about, Juan?"

"If you turn over, I will show you," he said, grinning in anticipation.

During the next five hours Ann learned about cunnilingus and sixty nine, then a variety of positions including cowgirl, reverse cowgirl and wheelbarrow, finishing up with a gentle introduction to well-oiled anal intercourse. She told herself she was being coached by an expert and it was all just as much for Richard's benefit as her own. Afterwards she spent a long time in the shower, washing off any traces of her marathon 'training' session. In fact, she ran out of time to go food shopping before Richard got home from work.

Ann was secretly very pleased with her newly acquired knowledge of various sex techniques. She knew she would have to be careful not to reveal the source of that knowledge, but she was looking forward to gradually improving her love life with Richard over the next months and years. The only down side she could see was that the three of them had to make do with beans on toast for dinner that evening.

*

A few weeks after Juan moved out, Richard returned home after football training one evening, visibly upset. He threw his kit bag on the floor of the lounge and turned towards Ann, who was sitting on the sofa.

"Juan's been kicked off the team," he told her.

"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed. "What did he do?"

"It's more about what he said he did," replied Richard, grimacing. He fell to his knees and knelt in front of her, the tracks of tears evident on his pale cheeks. "Tell me it's not true," he gasped, staring at her. "For God's sake tell me you didn't fuck Juan!"

Shocked and surprised, Ann looked at her husband kneeling in front of her, begging her for reassurance, but she couldn't find her voice. In her mind she had somehow locked away the secret of what she had done with Juan, telling herself that succumbing to her desire was only a temporary aberration, to be filed and forgotten as life returned to normal. She hadn't expected to be confronted by her husband and hadn't thought about what she might say to defuse this bombshell accusation.

In that moment of hesitation she lost any possibility of plausible denial. Richard knew she was a poor liar and the desperate look in her eyes before she glanced away served to reinforce her unspoken confession.

"I'm sorry, Richard," she finally said, returning her gaze to his distraught visage. "Juan was very persuasive and I couldn't resist temptation. I was curious about what it would be like to be with someone else, but there was never anything more to it than that. It wasn't a love affair. I suppose it was simply desire, selfish desire. It was wrong of me, but I hoped you would never find out."

His face crumpled. "Well I know now," he sighed, "and it hurts. It hurts like hell. My head is aching and the physical pain is almost as if I've been stabbed or shot. This morning I was thinking how lucky I was to have you as my wife and how we would be together forever. Then I find out from my team mates that you're the latest notch on Juan's bedpost. I could kill that bastard! As for you, how could you betray me? Did my love for you mean nothing at all?"

"I made a mistake, Richard," she replied. "I know you love me, but I let myself get led astray and I made a terrible mistake. I don't know what I was thinking, but I do love you. Please forgive me."

*

For more than a month Richard and Ann tried to get back to a semblance of normality, but it was obvious to Ann and anyone who knew him that Richard was a shadow of his former self, unsmiling and morose. Any conversation between the two of them was more or less merely functional and Richard deliberately avoided any physical contact with Ann.

Perhaps, if they had tried to talk about their feelings, things might have turned out differently. Instead, Ann returned from work one evening to find a note from Richard.

"My dearest Ann

The humiliation is unbearable. I hate seeing all those looks of pity. It was difficult enough when only a few people knew about it, but word has spread and everyone seems to know about you and Juan.

All the sordid details have been given a public airing at my expense. From what I've heard, it wasn't just normal sex you had with Juan. You did oral and anal with him and you even let him fuck your tits. My mind is constantly tortured by images of you with Juan. I know he seduced you, but you went along with it.

The love you and I shared has been dirtied, degraded and devalued by your actions. You were everything to me. I loved you with all my heart and the pain and anguish of your betrayal is overwhelming.

My spirit and soul are crushed, I feel totally humiliated and ashamed, I have lost my self-confidence and I can no longer hold my head up when I meet anyone. I will always love you and I forgive you for your mistakes, but I'm sorry I can't be with you any longer.

Your loving husband

Richard"

*

Richard's funeral was a horrendous ordeal for everyone involved. The mourners were all aware of the circumstances that led him to take his own life. Nevertheless, his suicide was unexpected. His parents were devastated, but compassionate towards Ann, who was inconsolable in her grief.

For Ann, the funeral was made almost unbearable by the looks of disdain she got from many of Richard's relatives and friends. After the service some members of the congregation gave voice to what they were thinking and Ann had to endure clearly audible accusations that his death was entirely her fault.

As the service drew to a close the outright hostility towards Ann eventually became so loud and unceasing that Richard's mother finally intervened. Turning to address the small crowd she spoke loudly and clearly. "Listen to me, all of you. He was our son and our hearts are breaking. We are grieving the loss of a son, but our daughter-in-law has lost the love of her life. This is a tragedy that will haunt Ann for the rest of her days. For God's sake have pity on her!"

After the funeral Ann led a miserable and lonely existence. Her parents and Richard's tried to provide shoulders for her to lean on, but Ann's waking hours were plagued by thoughts of guilt and regret, while her sleep was plagued by nightmares.

*

His colleagues assumed Dr Dixon Green was a grumpy old man. For nearly forty years Dixon 'Doc' Green had been a police forensic scientist and there was little he hadn't seen by way of blood and gore. In truth, he wasn't actually grumpy, but the work he did was often grim and he found the mask of grumpiness to be a useful device that saved him from having to deal with idle chatter as he worked his way closer to retirement.

Once the crime scene was secured, it was Green's job to analyse what had happened. He took his time examining the dead body in the bedroom and then conferred with the two detectives in the small kitchen-dining room, where they were sitting waiting for him.

"What have you got for us, Doc?" asked MacDonald, as Green sat down carefully on one of the dining chairs, making sure to avoid touching anything.

"Rigor mortis has set in, but there is some residual body heat," said Green. "It's now coming up for nine o'clock. My initial estimation of the time of death is between midnight and four this morning, in other words it was only a few hours ago. I can probably narrow the timeframe down a bit once I've run some more tests. Despite the pattern of blood spray there was little sign of a struggle, so it's almost certain the victim was taken by surprise. The murder weapon is a meat cleaver and the first blow would have been fatal. The carotid artery was severed, which caused the extensive blood spray. Not only was it a violent way to kill someone, the murderer subsequently used the cleaver to hack through the spinal cord, more or less decapitating the victim."

"So we're looking for someone capable of extreme violence," concluded MacDonald, as Campbell jotted some notes in a small notebook. "Was there anything else worth noting, Doc?"

"Yes," replied Green. "The bed was soiled with faeces and urine, which happens when someone dies, but there was also evidence of recent sexual activity. I found traces of dried semen on the body of the victim and on the bed sheets. There were also two empty wine glasses on the bedside table."

"We found an empty wine bottle in here," said MacDonald. "It looks like he was entertaining a lady visitor yesterday evening before he was killed."

"No wonder he was taken by surprise," said Campbell. "The wine and sex must have put him out for the count."

"We'll see if we can track down whoever was here yesterday evening, but that might not be easy," said MacDonald. "The neighbours told us there was no shortage of women coming and going in the short time the guy was living here, with plenty of noise from bedroom activities at all hours of the day and night. I got the impression they were sorry he was murdered, but not exactly unhappy now he's gone."

"It sounds like he was a bit of a ladies' man," said Campbell, "so we might be looking for an angry husband or boyfriend."

"Angry is an understatement," said Green. "I'd say whoever did this was raging mad. I'll get the murder weapon and the wine glasses checked and dusted for prints."

"There's also a blood stained bath towel lying in the bathroom," said McDonald. "Presumably the murderer must have used it to wipe themselves off afterwards."

"Okay," said Green. "I can get our guys to check for traces of DNA on the towel and we'll dust for prints throughout the place. If we get anything we'll check the databases for possible matches."

"What I don't understand is there's no sign of anyone breaking and entering," said MacDonald. "The front door was lying wide open, according to the neighbour who called emergency services. We checked and it's undamaged, so it wasn't forced open."

Just then, Green's mobile phone rang. MacDonald nodded and Green took the call, listening to whoever was on the other end of the line for a couple of minutes. Finally he grimaced and replied, "I'll be there as soon as I can," before ending the call. Turning to the others, he told them, "It seems we may have found the murderer."

*

Nobody likes a miserable hairdresser. Ann found it almost impossible to work in the salon and finally realised she needed what some people call closure. She knew the idea of closure was illusory and nothing could ever set things right. However, once she recognised her need for closure, it wasn't difficult to decide what she wanted to do.

Juan had kept a low profile following the tragic fallout from bragging to his team mates about his seduction of Ann. He was largely indifferent about being banished from the football team and the cold contempt of his former team mates was of little concern to him. What he couldn't understand was why anyone would react the way Richard had, just because his wife had been unable to resist the advances of another man.

Richard was a far cry from a murderous South American businessman and Juan had expected a less extreme reaction. He was surprised there seemed to be no reaction whatsoever from Richard. Juan's lack of empathy meant he had no idea of the damage he had inflicted on Richard's psyche. Instead of confronting his tormentor, Richard had internalised his anguish and had sunk into a depression, unaware of the dangerous deterioration of his mental health.

Juan had imagined Ann would never want to see him again and he was surprised she was knocking on his door that Monday evening. She had his forwarding address, so she knew where to find him and she had deliberately picked a weekday evening when there was little chance he had company.