Happy? Pt. 01

She pulled into an empty parking space on an unfamiliar road, Jerome pointing to it in plenty of time. Killing the engine, Ashley looked around for a sign indicating a hotel or even a guest house. There didn't seem to be any around, most of the street seemed to be commercial in nature with some clothing store, a furniture shop and a few other variations on the same theme, the closest to where they had parked. All were now shuttered up, the days trading at an end.

"Why are we here?" Ashley turned to look at Jerome only to see him shush her as he held his phone to the side of his head.

"Hey" he spoke into the phone, "Yeah, it's Flo's Laundrette, customer number 66021... Uh-huh, that's right. Password is Trini."

Ashley looked across the street, seeing the darkened exterior of Flo's Laundrette, a metal security grille pulled down over both the window and the doorway.

"Yeah, I'm in to do some repairs... Probably a couple of hours at least... yep, no need to call the primary key holder... Sure, I'll let you know when I'm done... Cheers Mate." Jerome hung up and turning to Ashley he simply said, "Let's go."

Jerome pulled a bunch of keys from his pocket as the crossed the street, Ashley walking with her jacket pulled up over her head to keep the light rain from ruining her hair. As Jerome bent to unlock the grille over the doors, Ashley asked who he'd been calling.

"Alarm monitoring company. If I open the café, here or the corner shop outside of hours they'd call to see what's up. I figured I'd save them the hassle." He took the lock off, slipping it into his coat pocket before levering the grille up about halfway. Ducking beneath it, Jerome opened the door with another key before turning to jab a combination of numbers into a blinking alarm panel. The warning beep of the alarm ceased and he ushered Ashley inside, lowering the grille and locking the door behind her.

Jerome flipped a switch and at the back of the room a red neon sign came on. It simply ready 'Change Given' about what Ashley took to be a detergent and fabric softener dispensing machine. From the glow of the sign, she could make out the room now. It was a typical laundrette, twenty machine lining the walls, the centre of the main room having a number of chairs bolted to the ground for people to sit and wait for their clothes to finish.

"No point switching on all the lights, this is good enough," Jerome explained. Ashley followed him inside, waiting once more as Jerome disappeared behind the counter into a back room. He reemerged a minute later, his arms full, carrying what appeared to be a couple of king-sized duvets.

He spread them out in a clear space between the end of the row of chairs and the counter at the back of the room. Ashley wanted to laugh, in the red glow of the sign, it appeared like he was preparing a picnic blanket in hell.

She stopped finding it funny when Jerome kicked off his shoes, pulling his coat and shirt off before lying down on the duvet covered floor. Ashley dropped her own jacket, getting down onto the floor beside him.

The duvet was thick enough that the cold hardness of the floor seemed of little matter. Besides, Ashley had been a week without sex. Before she had begun cheating, the lack of sex had bothered her, but she hadn't found herself focused on it. Now that she was having sex more often, Jerome's fucking being far more satisfying as well, Ashley found herself constantly thinking about it. Simply put, the more she got, the more she seemed to want. She stretched out beside Jerome, curling into him as his arm snaked around her shoulders to pull her closer. They kissed and Ashley's worries about someone spotting her, telling Colin, it melted away before the heat of the passionate French kiss.

Jerome's hands began working at the buttons of Ashley's top, her own fingers tearing at the belt about his waist. He won the race, popping two buttons loose so that he could get his hand inside of her top. She'd not bothered with underwear this Friday or last, there was simply no point to it, Jerome getting her naked as soon as he could. With a gasp of victory, her fingers opened the belt buckle and she prised open the button on the waistband of his pants. Ashley got distracted then, a longing groan spilling from between her lips as Jerome's strong fingers began to toy with her sensitive nipples.

Scrambling, caressing, twisting, fondling, the two of them rolled back and forth on the duvet, shedding their clothes slowly, each removed item a triumph that was celebrated by increasingly passionate kissing. Finally, though save for his socks, they were naked, their bodies rubbing off one another, black and white skin... turned different shades beneath the red neon light.

Jerome was standing, Ashley on her knees in front of him, his black cock in her small hand as she sucked it to full hardness. Before she'd met him, Ashley had seen giving head as a necessary evil, something to be endured as part of pleasing her partner. Now she loved it. The sensation of a big cock in her hand, feeling it's every throb and pulse, the taste of flesh on her tongue, a cornucopia of flavours assaulting her palate. Above all that, she liked being on her knees in front of Jerome. His physicality, his brawny body, it looked even better when viewed by her from below.

Ashley slurped on his cock some more, breathing through her nose as she strove to take as much inside her mouth as possible, Jerome encouraging her, his hands on the sides of her head, steadying her as he rocked slightly forward, pushing her to a new limit. She was enjoying this widening of her sexual horizons, her appetite burgeoning each time they were together.

She was on all fours with her ass pushed up as high as she could manage. Jerome crouching behind, his black cock in Ashley's tight pussy, already past its midpoint and with each stroke just getting deeper and deeper. She had lifted the edge of the duvet, biting down on it as Jerome fucked her with punishing force. Ashley had become a moaning, whining, screaming machine, her lustful bellowing accompanying the intense fucking he threw at her.

With people still passing by the laundrette, even if only occasionally, she worried that someone might hear her orgasm inspired shouts. His strong hands held her hips, Ashley almost coming clear of the duvet as Jerome's own enthusiasm increased, her pussy cradling his hard cock with a velvet embrace.

Jerome spooned her, nestled in behind Ashley as she lay on her side. The frantic edge to their coupling had softened, his cock still thrusting in and out but at a more sedate pace now, Ashley could sense him holding back, restraining himself from pounding her. He was toying with her clit, his arm draped across her stomach, an index finger rubbing and stroking the tiny nub of sensitive flesh, doubling down on the pleasure his cock was already forging from the furnace of her pussy.

Ashley had mounted him, facing away, another new position, new sensation. Her hands rested on his black thighs, holding onto them as she bounced on his cock with abandon. She'd orgasmed twice, small ones but explosive, nonetheless. Ashley wanted a big one, she'd gotten hooked on the knee trembling, eye rolling, turbulent climax's that had shaken her body with enough force to make her fear she was having a seizure.

Jerome began shifting against her, his thick cock grinding as it moved inside her and Ashley felt the spark of her next orgasm flare into life. Jerome plucked at her shoulder and Ashley followed his lead, as always, leaning back, back, until she was lying on top of his powerful chest.

He moved his hips as she humped, her breathing rapid now, short gasping breathes interspersed with keening grunts as Ashley surrendered herself to the energy of the fuck.

"You're loving this cock, aren't you?" Jerome's own breath was erratic, clearly on the edge himself.

"Yes... oh yes, so much, hh-uuh, so good," Ashley moaned in response.

"Yeah... nothing better than a black cock is there?" Ashley hadn't thought of it in those terms before although Jerome had brought up his being black a few times in conversation, fishing for a response. Whatever her feelings, or lack of feelings on the subject, Ashley knew what he wanted to hear and she only wanted him happy.

"Hh-uuh, uh, yes, black cock, so, so good," she groaned. He gave her a burst of fast thrusts as a reward and she shivered in pleasure, the orgasm within her growing exponentially.

"Black cock, better than your husband's dick, am I right?" Ashley took even less time to answer this question, her emotions laid bare already, the truth was easy to tell.

"Yes, oh, yes," she moaned.

Jerome's hands were around her now as she lay sprawled atop him. His left hand was gripping one of her tit's firmly, his right hand held her throat in a firm, possessive manner. His thrusts increased now, in pace and power and Ashley opened herself up, feeling that her orgasm was imminent.

"Not stopping," Jerome growled, his cock thumping away.

"Don't, so close, keep going, uuhhh, please, please keep going," she whimpered.

"Not pulling out neither," he growled, "Cumming in this married pussy tonight, held off long enough."

"Uhhh, so good," Ashley groaned, she knew she was dancing on a razors edge, her body ready to climax so hard. "Finish inside me, I want to feel it."

She was crossing a line in doing this. The last bastion of virtue that she had clung to, an ethical lifeline that Ashley had maintained as if it alone meant that she hadn't entirely destroyed her marriage vows. She was crossing the line, fully aware, the consequences paling in comparison to the immediate return and reward.

Ashley felt Jerome's cock ejaculate in her. She had already seen him cum multiple times in their weeks together, drinking back his sperm without complaint. The volume he produced exceeded that of her husband but up until that moment, the sensation of a cock sowing its seeds inside her body had been an experience she'd only had with Colin. Now she felt the difference between Jerome's cock and Colin's dick as what felt like a bucket of cum sloshed inside of her.

"Ohhhh Jerome!" Ashley wailed, the torrent of spunk unleashing her orgasm. She couldn't fuck anymore, the energy in her limbs leeched away by the magnitude of her pussy's orgasm. She didn't need to, Jerome clutching her tight, by tit and throat, as he fucked her hard, his cock acting like a rudder as it steered her through the onslaught of sensations.

"Uhhh, oh, uhh, Jerome, uhh, I love your black cock..."

<<0>>

Monday morning. The best thing about Mondays for Ashley, apart from seeing Jerome at the café, was knowing that the week had begun, just four more nights of sleep before Friday came around. It felt like she was experiencing Christmas every week, going through the same anticipation as a child would, counting down the days before she got to unwrap her big, thick, stiff present.

Ashley finished up at the gym, almost skipping across the road to the café. A young black woman stood behind the counter, flustered looking as if unused to dealing with the rigors of caffeine supply and demand. It wasn't even all that busy but clearly, she was struggling.

"Help you?"

"Umm, I'll wait. Jerome knows my order" Ashley said, looking about as if he'd appear as she spoke his name.

"Jerome aint here today, help you?"

"Uhh, Americano then. To go," Ashley replied.

Holding onto her coffee she left the café wondering where he might have gone. He hadn't mentioned on Friday about taking time off so maybe the reason was unexpected. She immediately wondered if his wife's condition might have worsened and Ashley physically shook her head, trying to knock the thought from her mind lest she dwell on it and the guilt that came with it. No, she refused to think the reason he wasn't there was negative in nature, she couldn't handle anything happening to him.

His other businesses... maybe he'd been required to deal with an issue at one of them.

The corner shop he owned was only a minute's walk away so Ashley made her way there, dumping her coffee along the way, the taste bitter, the young woman needing more training. At the shop, Ashley bought a bottle of water from the man behind the counter. She loitered at the magazine rack for a time, hoping that Jerome might appear but again, he simply wasn't there.

Outside, Ashley considered just going home, running from place to place after him... she was getting stalkerish. That was sensible, go home, work, see him on Tuesday instead. Sensible, grown up, logical.

Instead, Ashley jumped on a double decker bus that would pass by the laundrette she'd been in on Friday. She popped her I-buds in, sipping at her water as she listened to music, her eyes tracking the slightly familiar route, watching for when she'd need to get off. From habit she had sat on the top deck, preferring the view from on high. The bus made slow progress, the journey taking longer than it had when she'd driven that way with Jerome a few days before.

It hit a snarl of traffic on the road where the laundrette was located, looking intently out the window, Ashley was rewarded by the sight of Jerome carrying a large brown box from the back of a van in through the doors of the laundrette not fifty feet from where the bus was stopped by a traffic jam. She considered heading down but she knew the driver wouldn't let her out until the bus was at a designated stop. Instead, she kept her eye on the door, waiting for Jerome to exit, hoping he wouldn't drive off in the van before she had a chance to see him, to talk to him.

The bus crept forward another twenty feet. Agonisingly slow in its progress. So near, yet so far came to her mind. Then she saw him again, his dark handsome features set in his usual smile as he talked animatedly with someone inside the laundrette. The bus crept forward again, drawing level to where Jerome stood on the pavement.

Ashley raised her hand, ready to knock on the window, maybe get him to look up, to know she was there. Before she could, the person Jerome was in conversation with stepped out from the shadow of the laundrette's doorway.

Short, shorter than Ashley anyway. Heavyset with a wide set of hips, the curves of which were accented by the flowing yellow dress she wore. A colour better suited to a summer's day than the dreary cold of a London in late Autumn. The woman talking to Jerome didn't seem to mind the chill, her headed tilted back in a laugh that Ashley recognised from the picture on Jerome's phone.

It was his wife.

Jerome's wife was standing talking to him. Standing. Walking. Moving about. Not wheelchair bound and paralysed as he had told her. Not depressed and uninterested in life, love or her husband in the manner that Jerome had spun his tale of woe. No, she was if anything, full of life, reaching forward to grab her husband's hand, pulling him into an embrace as Ashley peered through a grimy bus window at the laughing, loving couple.

Ashley sank back from the window, slithering back out of sight as her heart slumped within her chest. She didn't cry at the sight of his lies and betrayal. She didn't cry on the bus, taking it for another three whole stops before finally exiting. No, Ashley waited until she had found a quiet alleyway, a fortuitously placed wheelie bin halfway along it. She crouched behind the bin and sobbed her heart out, her tears a blend of self-pity, grief at Jerome's duplicity and sorrow at the betrayal she had instigated, her poor husband oblivious to her deceit.

She was staggered by how easily Jerome had manipulated her. A few casual touches, a story that made her own problems seem small and at the same time linked them together. Feigning surprise at her suggestion for a tryst. Then drawing on her need to make it Ashley who begged him to see her again. She had been a fool, blind to the truth, unheeding to the cost of her addiction. Drying her eyes, Ashley realised that however bad she felt now, worse was yet to come. She had to tell Colin, not all of it but she at least had to tell him that his wife had betrayed him, cheated on him. If she was to recover anything of her former self, then she couldn't do it living a lie. Ashley headed home to break Colin's heart.