tagLoving WivesNo Way _ Mary: Alternative

No Way _ Mary: Alternative


Well, not many people liked the end to this story when I originally submitted it a few weeks ago.

Worst marks I've ever recorded.

I am suitably chastised, bow in submission to my readers, and humbly seek your forgiveness.

If there are any very pretty young ladies out there who felt especially aggrieved, then I would happily submit to their chosen chastisement. (Preferably n/s, on the slim side, with nice legs and boobs not too big please)

I guess I did duck out of a bit, and it was a bit lazy of me to end it like that. Don't like it myself too much now that I've read it again.

Anyway, I've had another go and given it a different ending completely!

The body of the story is more or less the same, but even there I've made some changes, so you might wish to read it all again.

Hope you prefer this version.


I suppose I've known Mary since she was born. Not the actual day she was born of course, but even as a four year old, I can still remember my Mum telling me that Mrs. Jones down the street had just had a new baby.

Odd that I should remember that one single event, but of course the brand new little baby was to feature so prominently in my life.

We grew up together in our little street, Brookdene Road in South East London, and even went to the same school, Bannockburn Primary in Plumstead, a suburb of Woolwich, which is in Greenwich. Hope that's not too confusing, but London is an awfully big place. Not exactly the poshest part of Greenwich I might add, but a good place to be bought up in, at least when I was a lad.

We were never childhood sweethearts or anything, as I was always that bit older than her, but she was a good friend of my youngest sister, our parents were friends, and somehow I cannot remember her ever not being around.

We got into our teens, and I started noticing her in a different way, but not till I was gone twenty did I ever actually take her out.

Once I did, we became un-separable, like a couple just meant to be, and as a few more years past, we thought of marriage and spending our lives together.

It almost goes without saying that I took her virginity though she was somewhat too late to take mine, and soon after we announced to our parents that we wanted to marry. They were ecstatic with the news, and sure enough soon after her eighteenth birthday, we tied the knot.

There we were, nearly ten years later, me running my own business selling construction equipment, and Mary long since a stay at home mum. Two kids made up our family, Tom junior a lad of seven, and Jilly our beautiful young five year old daughter.

I had a lovely and loving family, and everything seemed so perfect, nothing could go wrong.


I remember quite clearly it was a Friday night in July, a warm, but not too hot evening. The kids had been packed off to stay with Mary's parents for the week end, and we were going out for the night with another couple, John and Tracy, a couple of years younger than us, who we'd known for almost as long as we'd known one another.

John was in insurance, a manager of some kind, and his wife worked at the Woolwich Building Society nearby. She was a pretty enough thing I suppose, but not really my type, with breasts just a bit too big for my liking, and legs that were OK, but not a patch on my Mary's.

OK, so I like my women slim, classy and pretty. Not too tall, nice shapely long legs, breasts tight and pert rather than big, and a nice cute little bottom, with shape, but not too rounded.

Dammit ___ I've given the game away, and just described my wife Mary.

We'd already eaten at a local restaurant and decided to go on to a club. John seemed to know all about the local places, and which were current and which were passé, so we just followed his lead, ending up in a hotel with a club in the basement, the far side of Greenwich, which I for one had never been in before.

I had to admit it was quite classy, no scruffy youngsters to spoil the atmosphere, most of the clientele being well dressed and fairly affluent looking.

We ordered our drinks and they were delivered by a pretty young waitress wearing an outfit that looked good on her, displaying her tight young body without being too blatant.

John winked at me, and I smiled back. I had no idea what he was trying to tell me, but doubtless it was something to do with the young waitress.

I never found out.

"Hi Tom," came the voice from behind me, and I looked round to see who had greeted me.

OH BUGGER ___ I was in trouble. Big trouble.

"Didn't know you came in here," she continued, smiling at my little group and me.

"Hello Cath," I responded, my mouth dry as I tried to stay calm, and adding as quickly as possible, "This is my WIFE Mary, and our friends John and Tracy."

I emphasized 'wife' to make sure she caught on, as I didn't want her saying the wrong thing. Even so my pulse rate must have rocketed, and I felt myself beginning to sweat.

"Hi everyone," said Cath, smiled pleasantly at everyone, and moved on, glancing back over her shoulder as she mingled with the crowd.

The two girls looked at me enquiringly, obviously wondering who the rather gorgeous blonde girl in the short revealing dress and high heels had been. But it was John who asked the question; put his foot in it really, and I could have killed him. Maybe I should have murdered him right there and then.

"How the hell do you know her Tom?" He demanded with a smile on his face. He wasn't stupid wasn't John, but sometimes he spoke before he realized what he was saying. "You know what she does for a living don't you? She's a ........"

He ground to a halt, embarrassed, at last realizing what he was about to say.

"Christ Tom, I'm sorry," he eventually continued, and of course that made it even worse.

"She's a what?" Asked Tracy his wife, not acting as bright as one would have expected.

John signaled her to shut up, and the truth dawned on her. "Oh," was all she said.

Mary was looking daggers at me, and her face was going a bit red.

Oh Christ this was going to take some explaining!

"So," remarked my wife at last. "We now all know what your friend Cath does for a living, but the question is my dear husband, how do you know her, and how well?"

It was one of those defining moments, when if I said the wrong thing, then all hell would break loose. Mary looked as if she was about to explode, and the other two were busy studying some imaginary thing on the other side of the room, which had mysteriously caught their attention.

I was tempted to ask John how the hell he knew what Cath did, but didn't. It wasn't going to get me off the hook.

In these circumstances honesty is always the best policy, but of course that is not always possible when facing an increasingly angry wife.

Fortunately for me, I could tell the truth. It was something that I'd prefer not to have had to explain, but it was a damn site better than the conclusions my good wife was rapidly coming to.

"Cath's my contact," I started to explain. "You know I sell a lot of equipment overseas, and quite often I have to arrange ... eh ... well eh ... well 'entertainment' for some of my clients."

"She's a bloody hooker," Mary burst out. "You do business with a bloody prostitute."

"Cath prefers to call herself an escort girl," I mumbled uneasily, not sure how that was going to ease the situation.

"Escort, prostitute, whore or bloody hooker," she continued in an angry tone. "What difference does it make what you call her?"

"I only use her to arrange things for other guys, my clients," I pleaded, looking round in some embarrassment at the people around us, as our argument attracted their attention. "I've never actually used her myself."

"And I'm supposed to believe that am I?" Mary shot at me, glaring angrily at me. Mary was a bit of a prude about these things, and I'd never confided in her some of the less respectable methods I used to acquire some of my orders.

'When in Rome, do as the Romans do' as they say. The guy I'd taken my business over from had done it, and I'd simply continued the practice. Five hundred quid to some fancy tart to get an order for half a million wasn't a bad return, but I didn't think it the right moment to try to explain that to Mary.

We glared at one another for several minutes in silence, me not knowing what to say, and Mary, I suspected, deciding whether to walk out on me or not.

"Why not ask her Mary?" interjected Tracy. "Just ask her if he's been fucking her."

Tracy was nothing if not direct.

"Oh Christ Tracy, keep your mouth shut," mumbled her husband John, and he put his head in his hands, shaking it in disbelief.

Even he didn't believe me!

Bloody hell I was in trouble.

"Should I do that then Tom," Mary almost spat at me. "Look, she's coming back over this way. Should I ask her what you two have got up to?"

Why not I thought, and that's exactly what I said to her. Couldn't get any worse for me than it was.

Mary continued to glare at me, not sure what to do. Mary, God bless her, had led a somewhat sheltered life, and had probably never even knowingly seen a hooker, never mind speak to one face to face.

She slowly unwound herself, half standing and raising her hand to attract Cath's attention.

I held my breath.

The other two said nothing.

"Hi Mary," Cath greeted her when she came over, obviously having a good memory for names. Guess that was handy in her business.

"Everything Ok? What can I do for you?"

Mary was a bit lost for words, and I let out my breath at last.

A grin came over John's face as he stared at Cath's long, shapely, bare legs and trim ankles just a foot or so from his face. That is until Tracy nudged him hard in the ribs.

"I was just wondering Cath," started my wife at long last. "Well I was just wondering ___ that is I was thinking. Well not exactly thinking, more of ___ well...."

"Whether your husband is a client of mine?" Cath asked confidently, the hint of a smile on her lips. "If that's what you were wondering, then the answer is no!"

She stood there, the two of them studying one another for some time.

"Then how ___ that is why ....." Mary tried to ask.

"How do I know Tom? Why do I know him?" responded Cath, before Mary could even form the correct question.

Mary nodded her head. She did at least seem to be calming down a little.

"Tom directs clients our way," Cath told her. "And before you ask, he's had plenty of opportunity to try out the wares, and has always refused. Even when it would have been a freebie," she added.

"Pity really," she commented in a half whisper as she looked over at me.

Fortunately Mary decided to ignore that last remark, and a smile formed slowly on her face.

I seemed to have been saved. She pulled up a spare chair and motioned Cath to sit down beside her, and before I knew it, they were deep in conversation.

Incredible! Absolutely incredible.

There was my sweet and innocent wife, who'd only ever been in bed with one man in her life, and that was me, chatting amiably with a full time hooker, who'd probably screwed more men than Mary had had orgasms.

Well, maybe not that. At least I certainly hoped not ___ but you know what I mean.

Within minutes they were giggling and laughing together as if they'd been life long friends discussing boyfriends or something. At one point they both looked round at me as Mary said "I don't know really, as I've nothing to compare it with. But I think so. Well I hope so."

They then both laughed out loud, making me blush. After Tracy pulled her chair over and joined them, there was no stopping the three of them, as they quite clearly continued to discuss John and I, maybe comparing us with other men that Cath knew.

John and I tried to talk about football, and how Arsenal had been held to a four all draw against Spurs, but our heart wasn't in it, and we tried, but without much success to eavesdrop on what the three of them were discussing.

"Really!" cried out Mary loudly, in surprise at something that Cath had said. "You could. Just like that and they'd know somehow?"

"Yes of course," replied Cath, grinning like a little schoolgirl. "I used to do it all the time before I started getting my dates through the escort agency. I'm not really working at the moment, but I'll show you if you want."

The other two enthusiastically agreed, nodding their heads and encouraging her. Cath pulled her chair slightly to one side, crossed her elegant shapely long legs, pulled her skirt up even a little further, and stuck her breasts out just a little provocatively. Then she leant back in her chair in a pose that nearly blew my socks off.

John sighed deeply, but this time Tracy just smiled knowingly at him. She realized that he couldn't help it poor soul.

I'd always known Cath was a beautiful woman, but even I was surprised at how stunning she looked. How she radiated sexuality that could be detected from the other side of the club.

"Here comes one," she whispered to the other two. "Doesn't look too bad either, so maybe I might see you later."

A well-dressed guy of about forty odd came walking up, narrowly beating another younger chap to ask Cath for a dance. With a smile at Mary and Tracy, Cath stood up, tossed her hair sexily, took his arm, and traipsed out onto the dance floor with him, her backside swaying seductively, maybe for our benefit, as she went off with him.

Our wives clapped their hands together in some sort of joy, some sort of admiration, and chatted animatedly to one another.

"Did you see that?" I heard one of them say, then, "Wasn't that something?" Said the other.

John and I continued to sit there, gob-smacked at the reaction of our otherwise so prim wives, astonished that they could possibly mesh in so easily with a working girl like Cath, and even more astonished that the pair of them would admire how she had just pulled a potential client.

"Oh look Tracy, she's hooked him already," gurgled my wife in admiration as Cath waved discretely to them, as she led her conquest away from the dance floor and towards the lifts to the upper floors.

"Wow!" said Tracy, as Cath disappeared from view with her new client.

"Dammit, that was impressive," added Mary, her eyes still glued to the door that they had just disappeared through.

I coughed, and John cleared his throat.

"Sorry," said our two wives together. "Did you see how she operated?"

John and I nodded our heads. I guess we'd both seen that sort of thing before. Maybe not executed quite as well as that mind you though.

"I couldn't do that," spoke out Tracy. "Bloody hell I wish I could, but I just couldn't do it."

"Hang on old girl," broke in her husband immediately. "I'm not having you getting mixed up in anything like that.

The two girls had a fit of giggling, Mary almost falling off her chair.

"Of course we wouldn't go through with it silly," said my wife through her laughter as she helped Tracy straighten herself up. "But it would be incredible to pull a guy like that just for a laugh."

"Bet you couldn't," dared Tracy. "Bet you wouldn't even try."

"What do you think Tom," she asked me. "Do you think I could pull some guy by flashing my legs off and sticking my boobs out?"

"Your body is as good as Cath's," I told her, and it was true. Slimmer with smaller breasts maybe, but none the less bloody gorgeous. "But it's a matter of attitude Mary, and I'm sorry honey, but I don't think you've quite got it."

Well, that was like waving a red flag to a bull wasn't it.

"Oh no?" Mary retorted. "Then just watch this. I bet I can get someone to ask me to dance within five minutes."

With that she hitched up her skirt, even higher than Cath had done, crossed her long legs, stuck her tits out, and posed, copying Cath to a tee.

Her boobs didn't stick out quite as far as Cath's had done, but I'd never seen her looking so sexy. In fact I'd never seen her displaying herself so immodestly. My prim, almost meek little wife was posing like a sex goddess seeking her prey.

It didn't take five minutes, and in fact didn't even take two. I guess the predators had spotted that one attractive girl had already been prised from our table, and had their eyes out for what else might become available.

It was the younger guy, the one who had been beaten to Cath who got there first, a couple of others coming to an embarrassing halt just a few yards short, when they realized that they had been beaten by a head.

"Of course I'll dance with you," answered Mary when he asked, and she stood up and took his proffered hand without so much as a by your leave to me.

They took to the floor, and she turned back to look at us once, pulling a face at me cheekily. I got a little uncomfortable at how close he held her, but I'm not naturally the jealous type, so I laughed it off when the other two pointed it out.

They past us once, and Mary stuck her tongue out at me, which made me grin till I realized that she was doing nothing about his hand, which was stroking her bottom just a little too low for my liking, and with a tad too much familiarity.

She was teasing me of course. Not something she did often, and certainly not so blatantly, but that is what she was doing I was sure.

"You OK with this Tom? Asked John, wondering how I would react.

"No problem," I told him. "She's just having a bit of fun."

I don't know what the guy was saying to her, but I saw her shake her head a few times, which was at least reassuring, which was more than I could say for how close he was holding her.

The dance ended, and he led her back to our table, and I started to relax. I have to admit that I was getting just a bit worried. It was only then that I spotted quite how flushed she was. Her eyes were burning bright, and her cheeks were reddening.

"This is Mark," she introduced him a little breathlessly, and then gave all three of us a huge wink, which he would not have been able to see. I didn't know what it was about, but she had obviously been playing him along, and wanted us to follow her lead.

I nodded my head discretely, indicating, I hoped, that I understood what she was about.

"Mark wants to know if you could spare me for a while. He's got a room here and wants some company."


I nearly choked on my drink, and I noticed John's eyes bulge.

"She's kidding you fools," whispered Tracy. "She's just joking. Play along with it."

I couldn't bring myself to respond, so I shrugged my shoulders, feigning indifference, and Mary turned to her suitor, and told him it would be OK.

"How much?" He asked. "How much do you charge for an hour or so?"

My wife put her arm round his waist and pressed herself up against him, rubbing her body sensually up against his. Bloody hell she was getting into this. I'd never seen her acting that way, and though it was actually turning me on a bit, I wasn't at all sure that I liked it.

"I'm not cheap," she told him. "I don't go with anyone for less than four hundred quid."

The guy looked a little shocked, and I realized with a grin quite what her plan was. She'd obviously talked to Cath earlier about how much the girls charged, and four hundred pounds for a quickie was way out of order. No way would this guy accept a price as ridiculously high as that.

"How about two hundred?" He offered after some thought.

Quite reasonable really. He had no chance of course, but he didn't know that.

"No way baby," she told him, rubbing her tight little breasts against his chest, and her leg sensually up against thigh. "It's four hundred or nothing big boy. Take it or leave it."

Now I have to say, that I've never been one to imagine my missus with another man. That's just something that's never turned me on. Not something I've even thought about. But secure in the knowledge that she was just leading him on, it really got to me seeing her like that, and I was obliged to rearrange my legs under the table to accommodate my erection.

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