Emily Ch. 01

### Day 1 - *The Husband*

Friday. 3.15pm. For the past hour and a half, my work colleague Hayley and I have been in mine and my wife's bedroom fucking each other's brains out.

Just as we're finishing up I hear a car pull up outside.

"Fuck!" I gasp, looking out the window, "Emily's home!"

My Friday afternoons with Hayley have been a regular fixture for well over a year now. Thankfully we both always park around the back of the house as a precaution for this eventuality.

We dart quickly down the stairs, our clothes tucked under one arm, scurry through to the kitchen and out the back door. My heart is racing, I feel nauseous, but for a brief moment - as we slip through the back gate - I feel like we're going to getaway unseen. I then realise my mistake. I've left my trousers upstairs. I tell Hayley to leave and head back inside.

When I get back up to the bedroom I hear voices coming from the front driveway. I look through the window and see Emily talking with two men. She seems upset.

They follow her into the house and I hear them walk through to the living room.

"You can't," Emily pleads, "He's going to be home any minute. Please go. Please."

"That's half the fun though isn't it?" one of men laughs.

My heart starts racing. What the fuck is going on? I ask myself.

I retreat back into the bedroom and open the Ring app on my phone. I can now see and hear everything that's going on downstairs.

"Please..." she continues to beg, "You can come back tomorrow."

"The quicker you shut up and do as you're told, the quicker we can leave," the man tells her.

He unzips his jeans and pulls out his cock.

"Please..." she pleads, one final time, as he pushes her down onto her knees.

Seconds later he is invading her mouth. I watch in disbelief as he grabs the back of her head and plunges himself deep into her throat. Her hands come up to his thighs, and she makes a feeble attempt to push him away.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he spits. His right hand swipes hard across her face.

As she gasps for air, he walks over to our TV and rips a cable out from behind it.

"You clearly can't be trusted," he laughs as he binds her hands behind her back.

What the fuck is going on? I ask myself again. Who the fuck are these scumbags? I look over at my old cricket bat, leaning against the wall. I step towards it and pick it up, squeezing it tightly in my right-hand, as I prepare for the impending violence.

Just as I move towards the door the man asks his counterpart a question that stops me dead in my tracks: "Are all your teachers sluts like this?"

"No," I gasp outloud to the empty room, "That can't be..."

I examine the other man more closely. For the first time I appreciate his young age.

"You reckon we've got time to fuck her?" he asks, smiling broadly at his friend.

"Fuck, yes," the older man replies.

He throws her face down into the carpet. She whimpers as he starts roughly tugging down her trousers.

"Please," she begs, "Don't do this now. Come back tonight."

The man stops and looks at his friend.

"Tonight?" he asks, "When tonight? And where exactly?"

"After he's asleep. I'll...I'll meet you in the garden."

The two men nod at eachother, and the older one starts to untie her hands.

My head is spinning. Why is she negotiating with them like this?

They leave - slamming the front door behind them. With Emily now fumbling at the TV cables - trying to make the living room look undisturbed - I take my chance to creep out.

I somehow keep my composure, make it to my car and leave unnoticed. For twenty minutes I drive around before heading back home.

"Emily?" I call, as I enter the house, "I'm home."

"I'm just having a quick bath," she shouts from upstairs, "I'll be down in a bit."

I walk into the living room. There's no evidence that anything has happened.

A short while later we are eating dinner, and she is complaining about her day at work, like nothing has happened.

"Are you OK?" she asks, "You seem very quiet?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answer, as cheerily as I can possibly manage, "Just a bit tired."

We head up to bed at around ten o'clock. I pretend to fall quickly to sleep.

"Babe," she whispers softly an hour or so later, shaking me gently by the shoulder. I continue to feign a deep sleep, and she tip-toes quietly from the room.

I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling as she creeps down the stairs.

Why is she doing this? I ask myself, over and over.

I try with all my might to stay where I am. Whatever is happening in the garden is not something I need to see, I tell myself.

I manage to hold-out for about ten minutes before climbing out of bed and walking down the hall to the spare bedroom. I look out of the window and into the back garden.

Emily is bent over our garden table. She is naked. The younger man is fucking her hard from behind. His friend sits on a chair, his feet up on the table, casually smoking a cigarette, while tapping away at his phone.

"Fuck," the younger man groans.

"Don't fucking cum in her before I get my turn!" he is warned, by the older man.

"Get on your knees," the younger man tells Emily, as he pulls out his cock.

She spins around and drops down, as instructed. A heavy jet of cum shoots out of his cock, covering her face.

The older man starts laughing.

My stomach flips. I'm going to be sick. I dart towards the bathroom, collapse to my knees and my insides explode.

What the fuck is going on? I ask myself, as I catch my breath. This can't be real.

### Day 2 - *The Husband*

Emily wakes me around nine o'clock. My mind is hazy, I was awake until at least five o'clock.

"You better get up," she says softly, "We're supposed to be there in a couple of hours."

I stare at her blankly. Be where? I think to myself, as she hands me a cup of coffee.

We have been invited to our friends' house for a barbeque, I now remember.

"Are you OK?" she asks, as we drive over, "You don't seem very with it?"

"I'm just tired", I reply glumly.

Almost as soon as we arrive I find myself a quiet corner and go to work on a large crate of beer. I look over at her several times. She is laughing and joking like nothing has happened.

Why is she so OK? Why did she let them do those things?

All morning and into the afternoon people tell me I'm quiet and ask if I'm OK.

"I'm just tired," I explain.

At some point the exhaustion and alcohol take their toll, and I pass out in my chair. I come around briefly as we leave, and apologise to our hosts as Emily and I say our goodbyes. They laugh and tell me not to worry.

As soon as we get home I flop down onto the bed, still fully clothed and fall into a deep sleep.

I wake up some time around midnight, with my head feeling like it is ready to explode. I look to my right and see that Emily is not in bed.

Perhaps she decided to sleep in the spare room on account of my inebriation?

I clamber out of bed and walk down the hall. The spare room is empty. I look towards the window, and freeze.

Surely, she wouldn't? Not again.

I slowly walk over. My fears are quickly confirmed.

Tonight it is just the ring leader by himself. He is sitting down on one of the garden chairs, and she is eagerly sucking his cock. I start to doubt less and less that her involvement in all this is anything other than fully consensual.

"You fucking whore," I whisper, as I slump down onto the floor.

I curl-up into a ball as my head pounds harder and harder. I stay like that for several minutes, until I hear them talking.

"Say it," he says standing over, holding his now flaccid cock in his hand. I look at her face, it is once again covered with cum.

"I..." she stutters, "I...I want you to piss in my dirty slut mouth."

My jaw drops as a stream of piss shoots from his cock straight into Emily's mouth. She instinctively turns her head to the the side. He quickly stops pissing, and slaps her hard across the face

"I'm sorry," she splutters, "I..."

Before she can finish the apology he starts pissing again. This time she doesn't move. There's so much piss that it runs down her chin and onto her dress.

"Good little toilet whore," he laughs, as the last few drops trickle out.

Without any warning he spits violently into her face, and starts squeezing her tit through the sodden dress.

"I'll see you soon slut," he says, wiping his wet hand through her hair.

Emily remains perfectly still as she watches him walk towards the garden gate and disappear from view.

I need to move I realise. If she looks up at the window now she will see me watching. I tell my legs to walk but they won't listen. I can't take my eyes off of her.

Move, I tell myself, move! Now!

It's too late. She looks up. She sees me.

### Day 3 - *The Husband*

I'm still in the spare bedroom, laying on the bed and staring up at ceiling. I don't know exactly how long I've been here but sunlight is now starting to creep in through the window.

I don't regret that she saw me, I've decided. I couldn't have gone on much longer pretending I didn't know what she was doing. I realise now, whatever happens, my life will never be quite the same ever again.

I stand up and walk through to our bedroom. Emily is sitting at the head of bed, her knees tucked up to her chest. She is wearing a dressing gown. Her hair is wet from the shower. As I enter she looks up at me teary-eyed.

"I'm so sorry..." she weeps.

"I don't want an apology," I say firmly, but calmly, "I just want an explanation."

Her sobbing intensifies.

"You owe me that," I continue, trying to keep my composure, "What the fuck is going on?"

"I did something really stupid," she sniffs.

"What?" I ask, "What did you do?"

"I...a couple of weeks ago...I was helping one of the six-formers revise for his exams after school. We were laughing and joking...I don't know what came over me. I...I kissed him."

"You kissed him?"

"Yes."

"A pupil of yours?"

"Yes."

"Not...he didn't kiss you? You kissed him?"

She covers her face with her hand and sobs.

"Fucking answer me!" I shout.

"I don't know why I did it, it was..."

"Fuck!" I scream, as I spin around and throw my fist into the bedroom door.

"I'm so sorry," she weeps hysterically.

I feel like I'm going to be sick. I race down the hall to the bathroom, drop to my knees and my stomach erupts.

This is all just a bad dream, I tell myself. I need to wake up. Please just let me wake up.

"Are you OK?" she asks sheepishly, from the doorway, as I splash my face with cold water.

"How does you kissing some kid explain what I saw last night?" I ask bluntly.

"He got my phone number," she sighs, "I don't know how, honestly, I didn't give it to him. But he got it and he started texting me.

"I just ignored him to start with. He was asking if we could meet-up and stuff, but I didn't respond. And then he started making threats."

"What kind of threats?"

"He said if I didn't start replying he was going to tell people what happened. So, I asked him what he wanted, and...well he wanted...sex."

"So you just fucked him?"

"No! I told him that was never going to happen, honestly I did."

"Well obviously it did fucking happen! So why?"

"He sent his friend round. That guy from last night. I don't know who he is but the two of them came round last week and told me if I didn't do what they wanted they'd hurt me. And you. They said they'd hurt you."

"Oh, I see. You did it all to save me? Should I be fucking grateful?"

"Of course not. Please don't be like that. I felt so trapped. Please don't hate me."

She starts sobbing again, and throws her arms around me. After a few seconds I reluctantly reciprocate. We stand in eachother's arms in the bathroom as she continues to cry, and I try with all my might not to follow suite.

"So what happens now?" I ask, eventually, swallowing hard.

"I don't know," she sniffs.

My mind starts whirling in a million different directions. There's no way out of this, I realise. There is simply no solution. It suddenly feels like the whole world is closing in around me. I can feel my breathing becoming erratic and my arms start to shake.

"Are you OK?" Emily asks, concerned.

"I just need to lie down," I tell her.

I return to the bedroom, collapse down onto the bed, and everything turns black.

A few hours later a wake up. My hangover has eased considerably. My mind is clearer.

I walk downstairs and find Emily at the kitchen table. She looks over as I enter the room.

"I am so sorry," she sobs, once again.

"It's going to be OK," I say calmly, "We'll get through..."

"He's sent me this," she interjects, holding out her phone.

I stare at it, fearful of what I am about to see. With a deep breath I reach out and take it from her. There is a message on the screen.

"We'll be coming back tonight, same time as yesterday. Make sure you're ready."

"What am I going to?" she asks, as I gently place the phone back down on the table.

I shrug, and walk away.

I consider leaving. I could pack a bag and drive off somewhere. Nothing would stop me. I could go anywhere. Instead, I return to our bed. I lay there for hours, again just staring meaninglessly up at the ceiling.

I don't see Emily again until much later in the evening.

"He is here," she says with little emotion from the doorway.

She waits a few seconds. I make no reply, and she turns away, closing the door as she leaves.

Stop her, a voice is screaming inside of me, don't let her do this again! I ignore that voice and wallow.

I try my hardest not to think about what is going on in our back garden. I try not to wonder how many of them there are, and what they're doing to her. I try and I try, but fail.

I soon find myself back at the window of the spare room.

The ring leader and two other men are sitting down at the table. They are smoking and talking with eachother. They pay little attention to what is happening a few feet away in the middle of the lawn, where a fourth man has Emily on all fours, fucking her hard from behind.

Her eyes are closed, and she is biting down gently on her bottom lip as he pounds into her. I can't help but feel there is something of a disconnect between the traumatic state she has been in for most of the day, and the expression now on her face.

Maybe they've told her to act that way? I think to myself.

"Gonna fucking cum," the man groans.

"Hey!" the ring leader says sternly, "If you wanna cum in her pussy you have to pay extra."

Pay? Did he say pay?

"How much?"

"Extra twenty."

"Deal!"

I watch her face closely as he cums inside her. I still cannot detect any distress.

While the two other men argue over which of them will fuck her next, fate deals me another devastating blow: it starts to rain.

"For fuck sake," the ring leader says looking up at the sky, "Let's get out of here. We can go back to my place."

The other three men head towards the gate.

"Come on then," the ring leader says to Emily, who is still sitting on the grass.

"You...you mean me?" she splutters, "Me go with you?"

"Yes. Obviously. Move."

"I can't...I..."

"Fucking move!"

She looks up the window. Now I can see distress. Our eyes meet, just as he grabs a fistful of her hair and drags her away.