Harry's Quest Ch. 02

She left him quickly with just a peck on the cheek. "Call me," he said. "I'll try," she replied.

Five days later she rang. He was immediately aware of a certain tension at the other end. She said, "I have to tell you, Harry. I've told John."

Oh oh!

"He found out?"

"No. I just felt I had to tell him. He's a good husband, he wouldn't do anything to hurt me. So - "

"But what now?"

"It's all right. He's not angry, not with me or you. At first, he was - not hurt, more puzzled. He wanted to know why and how, so I told him. Then he began to ask about the details, what we did."

"And you told him?"

"Not everything, obviously. Some things are just between the two of us."

"What did he say?"

"It was strange, Harry. He seemed to come to terms with it because the more we talked about it the more aroused he got. We were in bed and the inevitable happened. Really, he was very good with me. Not as good as you, Harry. Nothing could be as good as that - not ever. But in its own way, it was nice."

They were silent. "Will I see you again, then?" Harry asked.

"That's up to you. But there's a condition."

"Which is?"

"John wants to be there."

"Wants to be there? Join in, you mean?"

"No. Just to watch. He might take care of himself, I expect, but what he really wants is to see me with you."

"Could you do that?"

"I don't know. Perhaps. Could you?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "I have to think about it. I'll call you. Next week."

But Harry already knew he couldn't go through with it. Talking to Beryl, having her beg him to fuck her, finger her arse, doing all the things that had been so exciting but doing them while her husband sat on a chair stroking his cock. It wouldn't work, and he guessed that Beryl knew it, too. Instead of waiting, he called her back at once and told her his feelings. And he was right. She couldn't have done it either. He put the phone down without saying goodbye.

Another of Harry's dreams was over. But not this time in ignominious failure. He had a new masturbatory fantasy: a checkout lady in black knickers. It would last him a long time, he thought. Or, at least, until something new occurred.