Circling the Drain

British English.

Category police:- there are a few categories this could have gone into, so go and have a lie down in a dark room. Nobody likes you anyway.

Circling the drain

Sunday

Ron and Lucy were making love, as they usually did on Sunday mornings. Neither of them cared for routine for its own sake, but this suited the rhythms of their week. They made love at other times of course, but for some reason Ron Coleman always woke with woody on Sunday morning. It was a fairly lazy day which made it convenient for a long session. Lucy enjoyed it too, and knew that sex always perked him up. So while she was luxuriating in a warm shower afterwards, he would be in the kitchen making coffee and a big breakfast, bless him.

He was approaching his climax now. His mates at work called it the vinegar stroke; something to do with the expression on a man's face apparently. Lucy came at the same time and they snuggled for a while before he climbed out of bed. He pulled on a pair of old joggers and a sweater and went downstairs; no need to shower, he had to mow the back lawn -- he could get clean later.

Everything except the eggs was ready; they took no time at all. When Lucy came down he asked her how many she wanted. As he watched two each in the frying pan, his mind wandered. Heat; things coming to completion. Did she fake her orgasm this morning? Something didn't feel right and Lucy seemed different somehow. He shrugged and slid the eggs onto two plates and they had breakfast.

Lucy gathered up their undies from the bedroom and put them in the washing machine. There were already several items in there. She had never seen the point of laundry hampers. Things got dropped behind them and forgotten. So they both shoved all their dirty clothes straight into the machine. It was just as easy to sort them from there. Ron knew the rules; if it wasn't in there, it didn't get washed; Sunday morning was the only exception. Satisfied that nothing was missing, she put their underwear in and set the machine for a gentle wash to start with. It didn't take long and when it was done she put the heavy items in and turned it on again. But she left the damp undies in the clothes basket; Ron was still mowing the lawn and those grass cuttings blew everywhere.

After lunch, Ron was out of the shower and drying himself. As he finished towelling his hair, he heard a noise. It was water still circling the drain in the corner of the stall. It was taking far too long to wash away and he'd been aware for a while now that it wasn't very efficient. But it was one of those things he only thought about when he was in the actual bathroom. He promised himself that he would remember to get some drain cleaner on Monday.

That night they were lying in bed spooning. Suddenly there was the sound of rain rattling against the window.

"Oh shit!" said Lucy.

"What's up?"

"I left the washing out -- both loads."

"Well I'm not going to fetch it in."

"Just as well I didn't ask you to." She sounded sarcastic.

"I had a mate who went to live in Australia. He said that when rain is forecast, they put their washing out. They reckon it gives everything an extra good rinse."

"Do they really? Good for them."

Monday

"Ooh, you're looking very trendy today boss. I've never seen you in red socks before!"

"I was hoping no-one would notice Jen." Ron told his secretary. "All my usual black ones are still wet on the washing line; I'd better buy some more. These are my old football socks."

(And they're getting worn two days in a row, but I'm not telling you that)

"Why, Mr Coleman. I do believe you're embarrassed!"

"It's simply that I've always believed businessmen should wear black socks. I think there's a law about it."

"Well if you're never going to wear red ones again, I'll have to tell the girls in the office. They'll all want to see."

"Don't you dare; I'll send you out to buy me some black socks if you do!"

"You can try, but I'll mishear. I'll probably come with bright yellow ones!"

Sure enough, Ron had to endure a morning of giggling girls peeking round his office door. He didn't approve of red socks in the office, but could not see what was so funny about them. So at lunch time, he bought two more black pairs. But when he stopped to consider it, he decided not to put them on after all. The excitement would be over this afternoon. But if Jan saw he'd actually gone to the trouble of changing them, and she would, the gigglng would start all over again. He looked at his purchase. Buying things -- he remembered! He set off in search of something to clear his shower blockage.

"What have you got there?" asked Lucy.

"It's an economy size drain cleaner; it's supposed to smell like pine. Our shower isn't draining away properly."

"I can't say I'd noticed."

"Well it's irritating me so I thought I'd sort it out. While I'm about it, I'll do all the toilets and sinks."

"OK."

. Ron stood in the shower glaring down at the cicular metal cover in the corner. And he just knew that it would have moved slightly since the last time he was down there. So it wasn't going to lift out until it was lined up exactly. He'd have to go and find a pair of tweezers. He hated this job, so better get it done now before he tackled the rest of the house.

After much cursing and jiggling about with the tweezers, he lined up the top disc and levered it free. Laying it to one side, he used them again and gently lifted out the plastic mesh trap. What was stuck in it was disgusting as always. He took both parts stooped over the toilet, and began picking off the crap.

"I don't get it." he muttered. "It should only be hair that gets trapped in here, why does it always look like shit?"

In future he promised himself he would comb through his hair when rinsing, and pull the loose ones off the comb. Then he could throw them straight into the lavatory -- less clogging for the drain to cope with. Lucy wouldn't bother to do that but the fewer times he had to do this chore, the better.

Ron picked the brown clumps off the underside of the top cover and flicked them into the pan. When it was more or less hair free, he threw it into the sink - he would polish both culprits off with the nail brush. He was peeling off the clinging brown mess from the plastic trap when he suddenly stopped. He was holding a clump which contained black hairs. His was brown, and Lucy's was blonde and long. Had someone else been using this shower? As he stared at it, he registered they were short and curly.

"Jesus!" he said out loud. "What if they're pubes?"

He shook his wrist violently and flicked the mess into the toilet pan and flushed. Once he'd cleaned both discs and replaced them in the shower floor, he scrubbed his hands.

He thought about asking Lucy about it. Obviously he was suspicious this might be evidence of an affair, so he would have to keep the conversation light hearted. But how could he phrase the question without tipping his hand? No, he didn't want her to know what he'd found yet; it could be some woman's hair of course. He ran through a mental list of their friends -- male and female. There were some who had black hair and one or two were quite curly. But he couldn't imagine why on earth any of them would have occasion to use this shower. He sloshed some of the cleaner into the sink and toilet.

While he was pouring some down the kitchen sink, Lucy asked him to do the washing machine.

"You know -- not the machine itself - just where the hose empties through the floor. Sometimes it smells a bit."

Ron dragged it away from the wall, pulled out the drain hose and poured more cleaning liquid down the hole. Then he did a circuit of the house flushing and turning on the shower and taps. Feeling satisfied with his efforts he returned to the washing machine. As he poured a kettle of warm water down the drain, he could hear Lucy upstairs commenting on how pleasant everything smelled. He pushed it back into place and paused.

He'd read the stories about cheating wives, and was now wondering if he might be married to one. The husbands in these tales were supposed to check if their wives had recently bought sexy underwear; especially if they were trying to hide it. And they also looked out for suspicious knicker stains. He could see Lucy's panties through the glass door, waiting for the next gentle wash. If she did have a lover, and he was using their bathroom, then she must be entertaining him in this house.

He took her panties out and had a good look at them. There was only one pair and they were certainly suspicious. There was a crusty stain in the gusset. It could have come from her, but there was rather a lot of it. He sniffed them but was unable to discern anything specific, certainly no black hairs. They were black and lacy and Ron had never seen them before. She didn't order items like this online, so he wasn't sure how he could check when and where she'd bought them. Their being unfamiliar wasn't particularly odd anyway; he didn't make a habit of checking her underwear. Perhaps he should.

No, what was strange was the fact there were any panties here at all. Lucy had washed everything yesterday. The sun had come out this afternoon and it was all still on the line. So why had she changed her undies when she got home? Or had she changed them at work? She normally took her panties off just before bed. Was she walking around knickerless right now? He doubted it. Another thought hit him with a jolt. Her vaginal juices, if that's the stains were, were not only thick; they were completely dry. She must have taken this pair off hours ago -- lunch time perhaps? Did she wear sexy panties especially for some lover and bring him back here midday? Did she then change into an everyday pair and go back to work?

He was careful to watch her gettng undressed that night. She removed a pair of plain pastel coloured panties; bigger than the soiled black pair. He lay without sleep for some while. What he must do was give her an opportunity to spend more time with this guy; somewhere he could observe their activities. That was if the black haired lover existed. He dreamed about drains.

Tuesday

"I'm away on a business trip tomorrow babe." he said. "I have to go and sort out a problem in our Norwich branch and will stay overnight. I should be home Thursday evening."

"Oh; you definitely can't get back tomorrow?"

"Not a chance I'm afraid; I'll still be working on it Thursday morning."

(Interesting you should ask though)

When Ron got home that night, he heard Lucy finishing a phone call: "... save wear and tear on the springs; and it isn't you who has to do the washing."

"Everything all right?" he asked.

She looked a little flushed and was fumbling her phone back into her handbag.

"Sure, why wouldn't it be?"

"No reason."

It wasn't long before she told him her own news. He wasn't entirely surprised.

"Rather than stay in on my own while you're away, I'm going out tomorrow night. It works out rather well Ronnie; you couldn't have come anyway."

Alarm bells were ringing. She only called him Ronnie when she wanted something; usually something she was feeling guilty about.

"And why couldn't I have come? Do you have a date with a tall dark handsome lover?" Ron grinned to show he wasn't serious. But a frown flicked across Lucy's face.

"No, of course I haven't; don't be stupid. Do you remember my friend Sandi Williamson?"

"Tiny little thing -- a bit mousy. She lives in a one-bed flat on the Larches estate."

(And I don't like being called stupid)

"Yes, that's her. Well she went on a dating site apparently, and agreed to meet up with a man. Then she got nervous about it and asked her brother Jack to come along as a kind of chaperone. Jack said ok and gave up his cards night."

"Jack's married to Lisa isn't he?" I asked. "They've got a toddler."

"Yes. Jack plays poker with his mates on Wednesdays and Lisa has a drink with her workmates on Thursdays. They don't really like individual nights out but Lisa says the baby's too young for a sitter yet. Anyway, my friend Sandi panicked: suddenly thinking how was she going to get to know this new man if her brother was hanging around? She didn't want to tell Jack she'd changed her mind as he'd gone to some trouble to help her, so she asked me."

"Asked you what?"

"If I would go and make up a foursome. It'll look more natural. She and her date can get to know each other; while Jack and I can, well, pretend to. And if they seem to be getting on well, we can say we have to leave. So that's why we couldn't invite you; five people going on a date would look ridiculous."

"It all sounds far too complicated to me. She should have just asked you and me to tag along in the first place."

"That's exactly what she said! But it's too late now and you couldn't have gone anyway."

"So while I'm slaving away in the middle of boring Norfolk, you're cosying up to handsome Jack?"

"You know it's not like that. Jack would never have an affair. And I could never do that to Lisa."

She was probably right. Anyway Jack Williamson had brown hair, more like Ron's.

"Where is this foursome taking place?"

"We're having dinner and drinks at the Lakeview Hotel. It's expensive so I think the guy wants to impress Sandi."

"Who's paying for your dinner? Not that it really matters."

"Jack is. Actually, if Sandi's date had known about the chaperone situation at the outset, he could have booked the dinner through Jack. He's done a lot of work for Lakeview and could probably get a discount."

"He has. Don't tell me mystery man has booked a room in case he gets lucky." Ron joked.

"I very much doubt it. I think Sandi said he lives on the other side of the city so he's not travelling far. And he'd hardly expect to score on a first date. He has seen photos of Sandi -- would you?"

"Good point; I wouldn't expect to get my hand up Sandi's dress until somewhere around the tenth date!"

Ron waited until Sandi had gone to bed and checked the washing machine. There was a pink thong in there and the gusset -- what little there was of it -- was full of crispy matter. It looked like more than mere vaginal juices. Christ, was she fucking some guy every day? His marriage was circling the drain and someone was going to get hurt. He went up to bed and noticed a white cotton pair on the floor; two pairs again. Perhaps he liked to fuck her with her panties on.

Wednesday

Ron set off on his bogus trip. He wasn't considering divorce yet; he wasn't considering anything until he was certain what was happening. The problem was if Lucy was bringing tall dark and handsome back to the house, they were unlikely to go there today; he'd given her an opportunity for an all-nighter. After she'd left for work, he went back in. He hadn't slept well last night and needed a nap. He'd sleep in the guest room, just in case.

He woke with a start at three; nobody here. She would come home from work, shower and get changed, and then go out to dinner. He should watch the house in case she brought the man home for a quickie; though that was unlikely. He had parked round the corner from his house and crossed the road to a tree that would hide him for a while. It wasn't perfect but he'd be able to see if she brought anyone home. At last Lucy arrived and went in ... alone. Ron waited fifteen minutes and returned to his car. He would go and eat at KFC, and then get a room at Lakeview. He could watch the foursome and then see where Lucy went.

When he checked in he was surprised to find they still had the old style register. He signed in and had to admire the beautiful leather-bound book. They did everything else on their computer so probably just kept this for show. Up in his room he waited till five, got an outside line and called home.

"Hi babe, I'm in my hotel room but have to go back into the branch office again tonight. The job is taking much longer then I expected. At this rate I may not be getting home till Friday."

"Oh no; please tell me if that happens, won't you?"

(Yes, I thought you might say that)

"Sure, I'll call you at work tomorrow lunch time, and let you know either way."

"So what are the hotels like up in Norfolk?"

Ron looked around his room.

"Much the same as round here ... round there I mean."

"Well I'm getting ready to go out in a moment." she said.

"Yes, have fun on your date."

"I will, but it isn't really a date. If Harold and Sandi get on well, we may finish quite late."

"Harold?"

"He's her date silly!"

Ron sat at the hotel bar and had a pint. He could see the front door and would duck out of sight when they got here. This Harold guy would probably be the first to arrive. He would want to make a good impression and be in place before his date. He wondered if Harold was aware there would be four of them. Surely Sandi had forewarned him? Assuming Jack was unaware of Lucy's affair, they would probably use a taxi. And it wouldn't be unreasonable for Lucy to invite Jack, in for a nightcap -- Sandi too if she hadn't stayed late with her date. Lucy would probably call her lover after they left. He hoped this business didn't run on too late.

Late! Lucy had said on the phone if it went well she might be home late - but why? If Sandi was comfortable with her date then Lucy and Jack needn't hang around very long. Surely they would slip away early and leave the new lovebirds to it? His thoughts were interrupted by a voice in reception.

"Good evening, I'm Harold Miller and I have a double room booked."

Ron heard the receptionist confirm the booking: "Welcome to Lakeview sir. Here's your key."

Could this be 'his' Harold -- with a room? If he only lives on the other side of town, he must be confident of scoring with shy Sandi. Ron got to his feet but in his haste he knocked his barstool over. It landed at the feet of a customer behind him, who jumped back and spilled some of his beer.

"Sorry mate!" said Ron.

"No harm done."

"Here," said the barman, "let me top that up for you sir."

Ron felt obliged to wait.

"How much?" he asked the barman.

"Don't worry about it sir; no charge."

By the time Ron got to front desk, Harold had gone. He glanced at the lifts; one had just stopped on floor three.

"Can I help you sir?" asked the receptionist.

"No thanks. I thought I recognised Harold Miller's voice just now. I'm due to meet him this evening."

"Well that is the name of the gentleman who just checked in. He's in 306 if you need to speak to him."

She picked up the phone.

"No it's ok; I'll catch him at dinner later."

"Ron returned to the bar and finished his beer. He went to the Gents' - where he had a piss and gathered his thoughts. If Sandi's date really did live quite close, a taxi home would be cheaper than an overnight stay. So if that was him, what had made him think he would score with Sandi? And why book a room in an expensive hotel? Impressive dinner yes, but they could have sex at Sandi's place. Perhaps she'd come out of her shell recently and sent him photos of herself, naked. But no, if that was the case she'd already be prepared for sex tonight, and would hardly want any chaperones. There seemed to be an unreal quality to this. Ron returned to the bar and ordered another pint.

He'd only taken a sip when he heard a familiar voice.

"Let's sit over there in that booth. We've got time for a quick drink."

It was Harold again -- Ron turned to see him walking through the bar. He was with Sandi, her brother Jack, and Lucy. Ron rapidly turned away. Shit! Where had they sprung from? He must have missed them arriving while he was in the toilet. And Harold was black! That was a surprise choice for nervous little Sandi.

He hunched his shoulders and hoped it would be Harold who came up to the bar. Any of the others would recognise him. He was in luck: "So what do you two want to drink?"