Confession

Then I remembered that I'd posted something about it a few days ago, when Gina had first mentioned she and Steff were going out. I scrolled through the app until I found that particular message.

I almost slapped myself on the forehead when I found it. What an idiot. I'd posted that message-and the one today-without using the anonymous function. Both had been sent using my real handle. That had been silly. Not only had I sent out a picture of Gina and Steff-okay, I'd covered their faces, but it would be easy to identify them based on their clothes-but I'd also sent out a message saying that they would be on the train at Waterloo at 9pm.

It was the kind of error that could lead to potentially devastating consequences, I thought to myself. Imagine if some weirdo pervert was reading these posts-and no doubt a lot of the people following this group fell into that category. Anything could happen.

I wondered if I should warn her, but-no. What was I supposed to say? What would she say when I told her what had happened, what I'd done? It didn't bear thinking about.

I'd just have to make sure I checked in on her. There was no way she'd be on the train at nine o'clock anyway, I thought with a chuckle.

I'd just leave it until five past nine: then I'll message and ask if they got on the train okay. No doubt they'd still be out in a bar somewhere. And even if they were on their way home, it was incredibly unlikely that anyone would piece all this together. The app wasn't that popular, and I'd only posted into one of the small Kent-only groups. So, first someone would have to have seen both posts and figure out they were about the same person; then they'd have to be somewhere in the local area; then they'd have to actually believe I was telling the truth and it wasn't all some silly story I was telling; then they'd have to actually go out and start looking.

Pretty much impossible, I thought.

I checked the time-it was just after eight. A little over an hour.

I put the phone to one side and went back to the TV, though I found now that I wasn't able to follow what was happening. I didn't even know what I was watching any more.

All I could think about was Gina.

#

I sent her a text a few minutes after nine, as planned.

It got to half past and she still hadn't responded-which I figured was a good sign. They were probably still out at a bar and she hadn't thought to check her phone. I didn't want to call her-that behaviour would be unusual-but if I still hadn't heard from her by ten, I would. Just to be sure.

#

Just before ten, I picked up my phone again. I was going to have to call her, see if she was okay. Before I did that, though, I checked the app again.

There was another private message waiting, and I could see that it was from the same user who'd sent the last one, "SinglePringle". This message had been sent just a minute ago.

I gasped as I opened it: Dude, you were right! One of them is bang up for it. Thanks for the tip!

I stared at the words. I typed back: What's happened?

I thought you were joking when you posted on the app, never thought you'd be telling the truth. But we were in a bar right next to Waterloo and there were these two chicks in there-the two from your picture. So we started talking to them. One of them left, said she had to get back to her husband, but the other one decided to stay and have another drink with us.

Well, it seemed Steff would never change, I thought with a wry smile. Engaged or not, she was always the party animal. Always craved attention when she was out.

And then it dawned on me...they would have chatted up Gina, too. My heart pounded in my chest. I wondered whether any of them had pushed their luck with her, tried to kiss her or get her number... Clearly she had left because she felt things were getting out of hand, going too far. She had no doubt tried to convince Steff to come with her, reminded her that she had a fiance now and she needed to be sensible, that she had no idea who these guys were. Steff would have encouraged her to stay, to let her hair down, that she didn't need to grow old before her time.

I wondered if Gina would tell me about any of this when she got home.

The other wasn't up for it though? How did she respond to being chatted up?

My dick stirred as I typed out the words.

I think she enjoyed it too, but she was a bit more serious, more wary. I think we might have had some luck with her if we'd had more time.

I smiled at the thought.

I actually think she was a little scared of Leon. Maybe she's racist.

I jolted and asked: Are you black?

No - but Leon is. He's the one doing most of the chatting up. He's a demon with the ladies, but as I said, I think the black thing put her off from the start.

Well that didn't sound like Gina at all, I thought. But then this guy had no doubt read the situation completely wrong anyway.

He continued: But this one is bang up for it. Exactly like you said. She really came out of her shell when her friend left. She's getting on real well with Leon. She hasn't hid her wedding ring, but she hasn't mentioned her husband at all.

Hang on, hang on, I thought. This didn't make any sense. I asked: I thought the married one had left?

He took a bit longer to respond. Yeah sorry, I always get the ring fingers wrong. The married one stayed-the one who left was engaged.

Tell me what she looks like, the one who stayed.

Again, there was a bit of time before he responded. Then he sent through a message that caused my heart to jump into my throat and a sinking, sickly feeling to begin spreading through my stomach: Brunette. Glasses. Small, slim. Nice tits, good legs. Not as obvious as the other one but hot. Kinda mumsy, at least until her friend left anyway.

Gina!

My mind raced with possibilities. It couldn't be happening, not like this-Steff leaving early and Gina staying out to be chatted up by some guy... Unless this whole thing was a joke, a wind-up?

Of course, I thought to myself. That made sense. This guy was just trolling, pretending this was happening to get a reaction out of me. I looked at the picture I'd posted-yep, that description could have all come from that picture. And when I asked which one, why didn't he just use her name? That would have cleared everything up.

I could ask him that very thing: What's her name? He wouldn't be able to answer that one.

But I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. I wasn't going to send any response at all. I'd just wait here until I heard from Gina. She'd be on her way home soon, I thought.

#

I hadn't heard from her as the clock ticked to 10:45.

I picked up the phone to send her another text, but as I did I couldn't resist taking a peek at the app again to see if the troll had sent any more messages.

There were, indeed, a couple of them waiting in my inbox.

The first one wasn't a message-it was a picture. I opened it and my mouth dropped open in shock.

It was Gina. In a bar, a drink in her hand, looking at the camera and smiling politely. There was a tall black guy standing next to her, well-dressed and well-groomed. His shirt was fitted and tight and I fancied I could see his muscles rippling under it.

The message under this picture read: Dude, this is your wife isn't it? Her name is Gina.

I flicked to the next message he'd sent: I'm pretty sure Leon is going to fuck her tonight. Women never say no to him. And she has been talking and drinking and flirting for the last two hours.

I had to do something. But what?

Anything. I couldn't just sit here in shock, I told myself. I knew Gina wouldn't do anything-she was just being polite. But still. I typed: Which bar are you at?

I stared at the screen as I waited for a response. I felt like I waited a long, long time, but really it was only a few minutes before a message came back: Yeah right. I'm not gonna cockblock my best mate. I won't keep teasing you with it though-I thought the whole thing was a joke, some silly game. I didn't realise this was actually gonna be your wife. I feel bad for you, but it's your own fault really. You started it by sending those posts. If it's something you're really into, I can set up a private group if you like and send you updates as the night progresses. You never know, she might not even go through with it.

Of course she won't do anything, I thought to myself. Not my Gina. I should tell him to just get lost, then get in touch with her and tell her to come home... But, on the other hand, I could hear all about her getting chatted up by this other guy.

I looked down at my raging erection. There was nothing difficult about this decision.

I told him to set up the group.

#

So SinglePringle set up a new group. He titled it "Will she...?" and the two of us were the only members. He set the group to private, which meant no one could join unless they were specifically invited.

So much for not teasing: this whole thing was a game for Mr Pringle.

I knew I could end this whole thing by just giving her a call, but for now I would play along.

The first post read as follows: She just went outside for a cigarette with Leon. I don't think anything happened.

Then another post, immediately after: She just told us she's married (as if the ring doesn't give it away). Didn't say much more about it. Leon played it cool. He still think there's a chance, I can tell.

I let out a long, slow breath. No doubt that was the end of the whole thing. Maybe she had been a little flirty, I reflected. Maybe she'd even led them on a bit (my nuts ached at the thought-I wish I could have been there to witness it), but now she'd revealed the truth, let them down, and no doubt she'd be on the train soon.

I wondered if she'd tell me anything about these guys when I asked how her night had been.

My phone suddenly pinged-not a notification from the app-this time a text message. From Gina. I opened it: We're still at a bar but leaving soon. All is fine, don't worry, be home soon. Xx.

I went back to SinglePringle's group. The next post read: When she told us she was married, I was sure that was the end of it. But they've kept going, flirting, ever since. More so, even. She still seems up for it.

Ten minutes later: I just went to the toilet, came back-and I'm sure they were kissing! They were pretty close anyway, and she looked breathless and flushed.

Then: Usually I'd take my cue and just go home. Clearly I'm not needed or wanted here anymore. But I promised you I'd send live updates; I wouldn't be much of a journalist if I walked away from this now, would I?

The only response I could muster: Thanks.

She went to the loo and I took the chance to grill Leon about my suspicions. He didn't want to answer at first but... I was right! He said they were kissing while I was gone and that he even managed a little feel of her tits.

He wanted to know why I was so interested, so I told him about you. Told him you're her husband, that you tipped us off in the first place. Leon said thanks. He said he will send her back well serviced.

This had gone too far.

I called Gina but she didn't answer. She sent a text right away: Sorry honey, loud in here, not much reception. You were right, we went out to a late bar. You off to bed? We're just drinking up, should be on our way soon. Xx.

I knew I could put a stop to the whole thing. I could just message her to say there was some emergency-her dad was ill, something like that-and she'd come rushing home. Then tell her I'd made a mistake, I was joking, something like that. Sure, she'd be pissed off, probably wouldn't talk to me for days. But at least it would put an end to this torturous night.

No, I told myself. I wouldn't do that. I wanted to see how this played out. Maybe she really had kissed this guy-maybe she was more drunk than I'd ever seen before-but she wouldn't do anything more than that. Not Gina.

Then again, an hour before I'd have insisted there was no chance she'd even kiss him.

#

So we're heading back to Leon's now. It turns out we all live in the same neck of the woods, though you guys definitely live in the nicer part! We're on the same train anyway.

Leon suggested she should come back with us for a drink. And she agreed! I suppose she still might change her mind before we get off the train.

I think maybe she feels safer knowing I'm going back too, like it's a normal end of the night drink. Maybe she's telling herself this isn't about sex, this is just going back to a friend's for a drink...

...But it definitely IS about sex. You should see the way she's looking at him.

Leon is going to give her a damn good fucking tonight.

She didn't change her mind. She got off at our stop (which is just a couple before yours). Just ten minutes in a taxi now.

Leon is fingering her in the cab. The three of us are in the back, her in the middle. He's got his hand up her skirt. I suppose they might think it's discreet, except she's making moaning sounds. Even the cab driver must know what's happening.

I'm pretending I don't know what's going on. Engrossed in my phone.

That was close! Leon forgot his keys and we didn't think we'd be able to get in the house. That would have ruined his fun for sure. But his cousin, Frank, was at home. Lucky! (for Leon anyway)

No time wasted. We got in, went to the lounge, poured drinks. But they just left them on the table. They were all over each other. Leon whispered something to her and she giggled and nodded, and the two of them went into his bedroom and shut the door.

She's noisy. I can't even imagine what he must be doing to her in there. Frank said he's never heard anything like it either.

I didn't respond to any of the posts. No replies, no likes, no encouragement at all. But they kept coming.

It couldn't be true. Maybe they really had met Gina-I suppose they must have done, considering the picture-but none of this could be happening. Drinking with her, the cigarette...yeah, all possible. The kiss: maybe. I could imagine her being too polite to say no when he leaned forward and went for it, allowing him to kiss her-but not kissing back. No way. Then awkwardly moving away when they were interrupted, making her excuses, leaving.

The rest of it was just a joke. Leon-or whatever his name was-hadn't managed to do anything with her, but they were pretending he had. She'd walk in the door soon and even then they'd keep messaging, telling me she was with them and she was still in the bedroom with Leon.

I looked up at the door. Any minute now.

That thought echoed in my head, over and over, for forty-five minutes.

Then another message on the app pinged my phone.

Holy shit! Me and Frank were drifting off on the sofa. I was thinking it was about time to head home. The noises had eased off, so there wasn't even that to keep me amused. Then a few minutes ago, Leon appeared. Great big smile on his face. Said she's amazing and can't get enough. She's worn him out but she still wants more. Asked if I wanted to have a go.

I almost threw the phone across the room as I read that. My heart pounded in my chest; my cock throbbed in my trousers. I let out an involuntary "aaaaaaahhhh" sound.

I typed my response quickly: What? NO! Can you just stop this please? Tell her to come home.

Then I added: This can't be real anyway. I don't believe it. This is just a wind-up.

I waited, phone clutched in my hand, staring at the screen.

#

Twenty minutes later.

Dude, I'm sorry. This is not a joke. This is happening. I feel a bit baD, but in the end this is just about pussy. Nothing personal. Your wife is hot, and she really can't get enough.

I walked into the bedroom and she dragged me onto the bed. She almost ripped my undewear off to get to my cock, then buried it so far down her throat I thought she was going to suffocate. But she didn't.

After a few minutes, I knew I was getting close. I tried to pull away but she wouldn't have it-just said she wanted to feel my hot spunk pouring down my throat. That did it for me. She swallowed the whole lot, licked it clean, then fell back on the bed. Pleased with herself but disappointed I didn't fuck her.

"I'll send Frank in next," I suggested. "But I'm hoping that's not it-are you staying for Round Two?" She said: "Definitely."

I'll see if I can take some pictures for you. Frank's in there at the moment but I'll see what I can do. But yeah, she's probably gonna be home a bit later than expected anyway.

I had no answer. Of course it wasn't true. It didn't matter that my dick raged in my pants, that the whole idea sent shivers through my body.

It couldn't really be happening. Whoever this was, he had played it well so far. He had, in places, really had me going. But he'd taken it too far now, way beyond any believability and out into some weird fantasy land.

She'll be home soon, I told myself. Very soon.

#

It had been two hours. Still no word from her. No word from SinglePringle either.

It was time to worry. Time to start thinking about all the bad things that could have happened. I had texted her a handful of times, and called her too. Whatever the situation, she wouldn't leave me here like this to worry. If she was with a bunch of guys-even if she was doing what this guy claimed she was doing-then she would have responded, at least to lie to me and say she was with Steff so that I wouldn't worry. And if she was with Steff-well, they had never stayed out this late before. I had no idea what they might be doing if they were still out now.

I knew I had to call the police. But what would I say?

My wife's missing. She hasn't come home yet.

Well yes, that would be the start. But when they asked where she was supposed to be, if I'd heard from her, if I had any clue at all where she was? Then what? Well, she might have gone off to have sex with a few guys she met in the bar, but I'm not sure if it's a joke.

Then? Show them the messages?

And what if she showed up right after? Or it turned out she was just out with Steff, as she said?

I didn't know what would be most embarrassing: admitting my weird fantasies, the fact that I'd been duped into worrying...or finding out it was all true.

Just a little longer, I kept telling myself. A little longer and I'll do something.

And now two hours had gone.

I almost jumped into the air as the phone pinged. A notification! A new post!

I grabbed the phone and scrabbled to unlock it.

You guessed it dude. We've been pretty busy the last couple of hours. Sorry to keep you in suspense.

She'll be home soon. She's just taking a shower. She said she doesn't want you to find out what happened! Lol!

So tell me, I dared. Tell me what happened.

But he was going to tell me whether I wanted him to or not.

Frank was done quicker than me-said he nutted in her mouth and she just swallowed the whole lot and licked him clean. But she wasn't done, and it was too quick even for Leon to be ready for another go.

She came back into the lounge for a drink, all four of us sitting there naked. Leon told her he was sorry we weren't ready for action yet, it'd probably take a few minutes. Then he suggested she get herself off, right there in front of us. He said it would turn us on and we'd be ready again in minutes.

And so she began playing with herself. She got really warmed up, one leg over the arm of the sofa and the other straddled across Leon's lap. She was flicking furiously-I've never seen anything like it.

Next he posted a pic, slightly grainy as if taken discreetly with a mobile phone. There was a woman alright, sitting on a beige sofa, her legs wide and high exactly as he'd described. Completely naked. One hand over her crotch while she worked at herself, the other cupping one of her bare breasts. Her head was tilted back so that I could see nothing of her face. There was a hint of dark hair on her head.