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Gentleman Dave quickly accepted my apologies and ordered room service. When he noted I hardly ate anything, we got in the bed and he cuddled me to sleep. He was gone when I woke the next morning. The terror of the previous night stayed with me all day.
The worry continued into the next evening. I went to the restaurant with John, but made sure we acted like business associates. He wanted to go out dancing, but I wasn't in the mood. I knew John wouldn't accept another night away from me, so I had the dilemma of where to sleep that night. If Dave turned up again and John was in my room or I wasn't, made no difference. I was finished either way. In the end, I rang Dave on our home line from John's room. I knew it was a ninety minute drive from home to there, so I set my alarm for ninety minutes. You can imagine how relaxing and fun that ninety minutes was. John got off twice, once on my face. I didn't even come close. I rushed back to my own room and was showering when my alarm went off.
I told John we were finished on the drive home the next afternoon. He took it badly to say the least. Called me a prick-tease that had made him risk his happy marriage and family for what? Somewhat vanilla sex for a couple of months. He laid it on thick about the bonus he'd given me, the dresses and all the other gifts. I knew he'd cut me off emotionally again and that it would hit me hard as usual. Somewhere along the line, I promised him one last, special session. I think the implication was clear. Of course, my plan was to delay that day as long as possible, maybe until I was pregnant and ready to resign anyway. In the meantime, I'd give Dave my last virginity, maybe after we'd ceremonially flushed my pills. I certainly had some making up to do with my husband, that was for sure.
I was happy. The decision was made, on my terms no less, and I was looking forward to recommitting to my soulmate.
The Friday night after I got back, Dave had to work late. To make it up to me, he took me to a swanky restaurant Saturday night. Dave sat with his back to the wall, facing the door, as usual. What can I say? It's a boy thing. That left me facing the back of the restaurant. I immediately saw John sitting at another table. He was holding hands across the table with a girl he'd hired a couple of weeks earlier. The slut was married as well. Listen to me. What a hypocrite. I glared daggers at him. When he saw me; he just smugly smiled. I fumed throughout the meal, all that night, and the rest of the weekend. It triggered every possessive instinct I had.
On Monday morning, I arrived at work, loaded for bear. I gave John both barrels. He defended himself strongly. If I wouldn't put out, he had every right to find someone who would. He admitted to sleeping with the girl Saturday and said she hadn't objected when he'd licked her anus. It was his for the taking, he was sure. He softened then. He didn't want her, he wanted me. I was confused and felt that he'd taken the control away from me. I just couldn't accept that. I made him promise not to see her again until I'd had a chance to think about us. The thinking took two weeks, during which John became more and more distant from me. That hurt.
I broke and told him we'd try again. I mentioned that Dave had his annual fishing trip coming up the following weekend and would be away from Friday morning until Monday afternoon. This time I insisted on condoms. I was off the pill so they were not negotiable. John joked that where he was planning on going there was zero chance of pregnancy. That caused a shudder to run through me. I tried to book a hotel for at least Friday and Saturday nights but there was a huge convention in town that weekend and there wasn't a room to be had. It was too good an opportunity to give up on though, so I reluctantly gave in to John's suggestion to spend the weekend at my place.
That Friday night John followed all my instructions. He waited until after dark, parked up the street and snuck into my house. I had candles lit in the dining room, where we shared a romantic meal, and more candles in the bedroom.
After we ate, John carried me up to my bedroom. I must say that was quite hot. He started off considerately; undressing me and kissing every piece of newly exposed skin. I felt myself dripping, which was a shame as I already knew how this was going to end. When I was fully naked, he laid me on my stomach with a pillow under my hips. He lay on the bed behind me and began licking me with long, smooth strokes. Honestly, if he'd treated me this well throughout our relationship, it might have lasted longer than it had. After a while, his licks extended to my perineum. It was actually very pleasant. I was on fire. By the time his tongue finally flicked my anus the spring was well and truly wound. I came instantly and very loudly.
That was the last I saw of the considerate, loving John. I was roused from my swoon by a lubricated cock nudging where his tongue had just been. I desperately tried to relax, but that's easier said than done. My sphincter resisted. I suppose some guys spend ten minutes getting a girl to relax. Not John. He just pushed until his irresistible force overcame my immovable object. I have no idea how far he pushed in. It felt like a baseball bat and I'm sure it was hitting my navel, from the inside. A searing pain shot through my bowels and continued as John just kept thrusting away. I screamed but he reached over and pressed my face into the mattress. I thrashed and struggled but his size and strength made that futile. After God knows how many minutes, the pain lapsed to a dull ache as, I suppose, everything went numb. I stopped my useless struggling and tried to think of happy thoughts to distract myself.
I closed my eyes and tried to think of happy memories of Dave making love to me and worshipping my body for hours. My eyes snapped open again. I couldn't remember a single session. For the last couple of months, Dave had taken me just like John did. Now, as I came to think of it, even those had stopped.
To stop myself following the logical trail this revelation incited, I focused on what I was actually feeling. Ouch. How can anyone possibly enjoy this? It was painful and humiliating. I suddenly realised the hand on the back of my head had relaxed a little. With a heave, I lifted my head off the bed. Instead of peering over my shoulder, I looked in the mirror on the wall at the head of the bed. I could see John behind me and the expression of lust and concentration on his face was scary. I knew at that point he was a truly selfish man and didn't give a fuck about what I was feeling.
As I watched, his face screwed up and he let out a mighty bellow as he unloaded in my bowels. He collapsed sideways, quickly softened, and slipped out. It was a tremendous feeling of relief. A gush of air and God knows what else erupted from me and I raced into the shower, feeling rage and humiliation. I was ready to blast him when I got out, but he grabbed me and squeezed. He thanked me constantly and told me he loved me. I was confused. His words and recent actions were greatly at odds with each other. When he told me it had been the best orgasm of his life, I felt pride battering my resolve. I told him he'd hurt and humiliated me. He couldn't stop apologising, saying he'd lost control and I should know he wasn't a selfish man usually. He kept saying it would be better next time. I didn't let on that there was never going to be a next time. I'd resolved to end this once and for all, while salvaging as much of my dignity as I could.
He fell asleep with a confused me in his arms. The last words from him were that he loved me and would make it up to me. If he really did love me, breaking off was going to be difficult and risky. Would he risk harming his marriage and mine to get me to himself full time? I couldn't risk that. No, we would have our fun until Monday morning, then I'd firmly tell him it's over. If he tried to cause trouble with Dave, I'd threaten retaliation with his wife. If anything, he had more to lose than I did.
I was no less confused the next morning when he left. I finally slept and was woken by what I can only describe as John worshipping my body. He kissed and licked me all over. It was delicious. I came on his tongue but couldn't relax afterwards when he rolled me onto my stomach. I was relieved when he entered the correct hole and started to get into it. Then the prick had to go and spoil it by reaching over and grabbing the lube again. I told him in no uncertain terms he wasn't going there again. Shortly after that he took a phone call and announced he had to leave.
The final setting of my resolve was when I realised later he'd been in my vagina without a condom. I'd been on the pill so long and was so distracted by the pleasure of it all I hadn't noticed at the time. I shuddered at how close to disaster I could have come. I finally knew that no amount of pressure from John would ever change my mind. Looking back over the last few months, I couldn't remember any of the pleasure or the thrill of the illicitness of it all. However, I could vividly remember the guilt and every shudderingly terrifying time I'd nearly given the game away. No, this would never, ever happen again. With my final decision made, I intended spending every free minute until Monday night thinking of ways to reconnect with my husband. With the decision made I could feel my blood pressure dropping. No more stress, lies, and worry. It was going to be wonderful. I would armour myself against John's withdrawing his attention when I told him we were finished by booking a spa and hairdressers appointment. I would show him my ego didn't need him. With my plan in place, I strode into work on Monday morning.
As I went into John's office, the new girl from the restaurant was just walking out. Her guilty look told me all I needed to know. I was confused. How could John love me, then carry on with someone else? Still, it would make what I had to say easier. John looked sheepish and defensive when I strode in.
"What are you angry about? I said I would stay away from her until you'd finished thinking. I did. You won't give me what I want, so I have every right to look for it elsewhere."
All of a sudden it was like a veil was lifted from my eyes. This man was shallow and far from loving me, didn't give a shit about anyone else but himself. I'd been played like a fiddle. He'd got inside my defences and knowing I would resist his initial advances, had actually manoeuvred me into initiating an affair. An affair in which he'd manipulated me all the way along. He'd used my sense of decency to consent to him to fucking me without condoms. He'd used my disgust at swallowing to get me to agree to him humiliating me by blowing all over my face and, worse, making me think he was doing me a favour by doing that. Which was all bad enough. The fact that I'd been manipulated into allowing him to humiliate my husband by taking my ass in Dave's bed was suddenly crippling. I saw it all now. None of the last few months had been on my terms and I was nowhere near as clever as I thought.
The humiliation of all the revelations made me turn tail, slamming first his door then mine. That left me standing in the open area, the subject of stares from over a dozen, suddenly idle, secretaries. I turned abruptly and went into the break room. One of the other girls—Sharon—followed me in.
"Finally gave you the ultimatum did he?"
"What?"
"The ultimatum that he gave your predecessor. Give up your ass or piss off. My advice is to tell him to fuck off. I reckon that if you don't stand firm, and give it up, you'll end up servicing some of his clients as well as him."
An embarrassing silence fell. Well, embarrassing on my part. Sharon just stood there with a faint smile.
"How long have you known?"
"Since the first week you gave it up. Hang on, are you really saying you thought we didn't all know? Surely you can't be arrogant enough to think you'd kept it secret? Come on, girl, you made it so obvious. You waltzed right through the office with his cum on your lips for Pete's sake. How unobservant do you think we are?"
I couldn't believe I was hearing this. I was sure I'd hidden it from everyone. Hang on. If it had been so obvious to them, what did Dave see? I suddenly realised what I'd seen as a character flaw in Dave, his naivety, was now my only possible saviour.
Utterly embarrassed, I headed back towards my office. On the way, I passed Peta's desk. Not one to hide my head in the sand, I stopped in front of it.
"Have you told Dave?"
She gave me an almost sad smile.
"Would a friend do that?"
"Do you intend telling him?"
"No, he won't hear it from me, but I can't say the same about the other girls."
I looked around at over twelve threats to my perfect life, any one of which could be motivated to blab in the hope of snagging Dave on the rebound. Not being able to handle their judgemental stares, I retreated to my office. I couldn't wait to give John the news and wipe the smug smile off his face.
Wipe it off I did. It was then I found out he was only the manager of the business. It was originally his wife's father's. He immediately went into damage control planning. Typically, it was all about covering his ass and saving his marriage. He actually came up with a fairly good plan. He would tell his wife Dave had gone off the rails and was convinced, incorrectly, that he and I were having an affair. He was demanding money from the company or he would go public. John would pose it as a question to his wife as to whether she thought he should give in to that. That way, if one of the office girls told Dave, and Dave decided to retaliate by telling John's wife she wouldn't believe him. With his acting skills, I'm sure John would be able to pull it off convincingly. I briefly wondered if I could modify the same plan. I could tell Dave John had been pressuring me for sex and was threatening to get one of the office girls to out me to him, unless I gave it up. I knew my acting skills weren't even close to being up to that challenge though. The only thing in John's plan, for me, was that it guaranteed my job. John would have to keep me around to back him up and stop me vindictively telling his wife. I'd need this job if Dave ever found out. I'd stay in what was obviously going to be an uncomfortable environment until I was sure my marriage was safe, then leave. Maybe I could be a woman of leisure until I had a baby.
I spent the rest of the day plotting. None of the bitches could tell Dave if they couldn't contact him. All I had to do was isolate him from them. I would cancel our old email account, saying that spammers had discovered it. By getting home before Dave every night, and never leaving him alone, I could intercept any mail and if any of the bitches came around, I'd run them off. There weren't any company functions coming up so I was safe there. I think my lying skills were up to telling Dave that John had requested he stop coming in to the office and distracting his workforce. Yes, I could do that.
That only left Dave's cell phone. I could make it disappear, but he could just replace it and get the same number. That number was my Achilles heel and I knew it. The solution my desperate brain came up with was a uniquely 21st century one. I spent the rest of the afternoon online, entering every competition I could find and registering on every website I could access. All using Dave's name and number. Ever wondered why they ask for phone numbers? A good proportion are just looking to match names to phone numbers. These they sell to anyone that will buy them. Hopefully, within a week, Dave's phone would be so inundated by charities, pollsters, and general time wasters, that when I suggested he get a new phone number, he'd jump at it.
Convinced I'd done as much as I humanly could, I went home to prepare for Dave's return. Now that I knew he could possibly know, I watched him like a hawk. He came in and kissed me like normal and rabbited on about his trip while he packaged up the fish and put some in the freezer. My wonderful, naïve husband, I swear, was absolutely normal. I felt overwhelming relief. You know what it's like when you go to the doctor for some entirely routine tests, then go back to get the results and are nervous about what you'll hear. Well, that's what I felt like. The doctor had just told me that I was going to live. After the relief came the extreme fatigue, common when relieved of long held stress. I fell asleep on the couch but was roused as I felt Dave lift me up and carry me to the bedroom. I remember luxuriating in that feeling of anticipation you get just before sex, but I must have fallen asleep again. The next thing I knew, Dave was waking me, saying if we didn't hurry, we'd be late for work.
It's been three weeks since I last put pen to paper. I've re-read it and can't believe what a delusional load of crap it is. Since then, my life has descended into nightmare and I'm completing my record, I think, in a vain attempt to stay sane.
For the rest of that week work had been very uncomfortable. I could no longer look on my colleagues as anything but threats. The only exception was Peta, but she was away that week. John just treated me with contempt, barking orders at me whenever he wanted anything. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of going home and snuggling with my Dave.
Dave was very late home Tuesday and instantly picked up on my sadness. He came and gave me a big hug. I broke down and cried. His arms were my last place of refuge from the hell I'd made of my once perfect life. He carried me upstairs again and held me till I fell asleep. It was wonderful.
Wednesday morning, I woke still in his arms. He apologised for not telling me earlier, but he had to go away for two nights and would be back Friday. Of course, I forgave him. He'd become a specialist Aluminium welder and his company occasionally hired him out for difficult out of town jobs. I didn't like it, of course, but I was happy he was respected in his field and sought after. Wednesday and Thursday night, he rang briefly to say he was exhausted and going to crash as soon as he ate. I went to bed early on Thursday. The next day was going to be huge. It looked like Dave was going to do what he'd done once before—pretend to forget my birthday, then hit me with the surprise.
Even the depressing atmosphere of work couldn't break my mood the next day. I even managed to smile at the office girls. That was until the text arrived from Dave just before lunch. "Client problem today. Have to stop one more night, see you tomorrow." I was instantly very angry. How could he do that to me on my birthday? I rang his cell but it was turned off. I knew his company frowned on personal calls during business hours. I left a message I knew it was all a trick, and a very poor taste one at that, then said I'd see him tonight.
I fully expected him to be there when I got home and was very disappointed. I rang his cell again but it was still turned off. The joke was getting real old, real fast. I sat on the couch and stewed; fighting back the feeling of dread that was creeping over me. My desperate logic that it was only paranoia was convincing myself less and less. I pulled out my cell and read his last text again. It was only then that the chilling familiarity of those words struck home. With trembling fingers and a heaving breast, I spun through my text history until I located the one I was looking for. There it was, "Client problem today. Have to stop one more night, see you tomorrow." It was the message I'd sent Dave after my second night of sex with my lover, enabling a third consecutive night. That may have been a staggering coincidence, but what caught my eye next, proved it wasn't. Below that text from me, so many months ago, was the next one I'd sent. It was the one apologising to Dave for forgetting his birthday. The fact that two identically worded texts had been sent at the same times on each of our birthdays, took it well beyond the bounds of coincidence.
