No Way _ Mary: Alternative

This was really quite amusing as well; watching Mary pretending she was a whore, giving us secretive little looks and winks to confirm that she was still in charge.

I wondered how long she would keep it up, and how the guy would get out of his predicament. Nobody really likes looking a skinflint in front of other people, and I actually started to feel quite sorry for him.

"Ok, four hundred it is then!"

Oh shit! Oh fuck! ____ he'd agreed to it.

I looked over at Mary, and her confident look had been replaced by one of mild panic. Some colour drained from her face, when the guy fished a wad of money from his pocket, and he counted out eight fifty-pound notes onto the table.

I couldn't help but smile. She'd got herself into this spot, so what the hell was she going to do to get herself out of it?

It would certainly teach her a lesson, that was for sure.

I almost chuckled aloud.

He took her arm, and started to guide her away from the table, and Mary meekly followed him, her legs visibly wobbling, and threatening to buckle under her.

"Tom __ Tom," urged John. "Don't just sit there man ___ do something."

I was at a loss, but started to rise from my seat, only to see that at last Mary had come to her senses. She'd stopped some fifteen feet from us, and was pushing his hand off her arm. He tried to grab her, but she leant over and said something to him and he relaxed, let go of her, and stood there while she came unsteadily back to our table, an extremely odd look on her face.

"Quick Tom, give me the four hundred quid. I'll have to give it back to him or I'm in trouble."

Well that was pretty obvious, wasn't it?

I gave the money to her, and offered to go give it back to him.

"No," she said quietly. "I haven't really been very fair with him, cheating him like that."

She looked down at me with a pained look on her face.

"Hang on, I'll be back in a minute baby."

And with that she spun on her heels and walked equally unsteadily back to where the stranger was still standing. I didn't see her give him back the money, but presumed she had, and then she stood there talking to him for some time.

Again Mary came back to the table, and again the stranger stood waiting.

This time she looked really quite worried.

"Look Tom," she told me. "He's pretty upset, so I've agreed to go and have just one drink at the bar with him."

"No way honey," I objected. "No bloody way."

"Please Tom," she pleaded. "It's just for a quick drink, and I'll behave myself honestly. I can't just leave the poor sod like that."

"Go on Tom," whispered John to my surprise. "He can't get up to much at the bar, and she'll be hot for you when you get home tonight."

I shrugged my shoulders reluctantly, accepting her request, and then watched her disappear over in the direction of the bar, wondering if I was doing the right thing. I wasn't at all happy that his hand had yet again dropped down on to her bottom.

"I'd be careful if I was you Tom," Tracy said to me uncertainly. "She was really turned on by what that Cath was telling her.

"Oh don't be silly," I told Tracy, and John agreed with me, adding that she'd be back any minute.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," whispered Tracy under her breath, but loud enough for me to hear it.

I chuckled to myself. What the hell did she think my innocent little wife was going to get up to for Christ's sake? She only gone out to the bar with him.

We sat there and waited, each minute the tension building up round the table. After ten minutes and no Mary I started to feel uneasy, then my stomach started to turn in circles, and ten minutes later I exploded.

"Where the fuck is she?" I almost shouted aloud. "How long does it take to have one quick drink?"

"I'll go and look for her," volunteered Tracy, and she stood up and disappeared towards the bar without waiting for my confirmation.

John and I tried again to talk about Arsenal's chances, but the words stuck in my throat. I just couldn't concentrate. I prayed that Tracy would pop back in a moment with my wife with her looking somewhat contrite.

Tracy did come back, but on her own.

"No sign of her Tom," she said. "She's not in the bar."

I looked at her.

The pair of them were pulling my leg. This had all been a set up to get me worked up. But the look on Tracy's face told me otherwise. She wasn't pretending, and Mary had disappeared.

All three of us jumped up, and searched the bar, the dance floor, and the rest of the club, but she was nowhere to be seen.

She'd gone ___ gone off with a complete stranger, probably gone back with him to his room.

I couldn't believe it ___ couldn't accept it. Not my sweet Mary, she couldn't do something like that.

We hung around for at least an hour, watched as the place emptied until the club was closing, leaving us the last ones there. I was close to panic, and the other two were trying to calm me down, suggesting that she'd maybe gone home, maybe gone off with a pal.

But I knew it wasn't true.

I knew who she'd gone off with.

I just couldn't understand why.

We went through to the hotel section, and I demanded at the reception if they'd seen my wife, but of course they couldn't help.

I'm afraid I began to lose my rag somewhat, and they threatened to call security.

In the end John and Tracy pulled me away, took me outside and tried to talk sense to me.

But where was the sense in it?

A short while before I'd been with my wife, the love of my life. Laughing and joking and having fun together. Then just like that, without warning she'd gone __ disappeared without trace. The lump in my gut seemed to grow and grow.

The other two wanted me to leave, and I couldn't blame them. I guess they didn't even want to be there if Mary should suddenly come sauntering back.

Then Tracy had an idea. Maybe Mary was waiting for me in our car. Maybe, just maybe she was teasing me, playing a trick on me, and she had left the club and gone to our car to wait for me, leaving me thinking that she'd gone off with that chap, and she hadn't after all.

Well, that joke had backfired, hadn't it?

I was furious with her for playing a trick like that. Bloody hell would she get an earful when I got back to the car.

We wandered out of the hotel and through to the car park towards our cars, my stomach turning somersaults, as I approached, angry with Mary, but praying that she was there ___ knowing that she'd had to be there. The other two were lighthearted, telling me not to be too hard on her, but I wasn't so sure. In my opinion she'd really gone a bit too far.

The car was empty!

My heart sank, and my hopes with it.

What to do now?

"Ring her," suggested John.

Why the hell hadn't I thought of that? So I whipped out my mobile and speed dialed her number.

It rang ___ and rang ___ and rang.

At last Tracy tapped me on the shoulder, telling me it was useless, and indicating the car. I took the phone away from my ear, and heard another ringing. It was Mary's phone ringing inside the car where she'd left it, her flimsy dress hardly giving her anywhere to carry it on her.

Flimsy dress! Oh shit!

Christ it was flimsy wasn't it. I didn't want to think about her dressed like that alone with another guy.

If she still had the dress on of course.

Damn and blast!

What to do? The other two had no more idea than me.

Then I thought of Cath; maybe she could throw some light on the matter.

My fingers shook as I rang her number, which fortunately I had stored in my mobile, and just a few rings in, she answered.

It wasn't much, but the feeling of relief that something had at last worked was almost overpowering, and my voice shook as I spoke to her, and explained what had happened.

"Oh Christ no!" She answered me. "I never imagined she would."

She sounded a little out of breath, but then again she probably had reason to by then.

"Would what," I questioned her. "What would she do?"

Cath refused to answer any more questions, but told me to go home, and await her call, then rang off before I could question her further.

"What the hell were you three talking about? What bloody stupid ideas have you put in her head?" I demanded of Tracy, spinning around to her, but she simply dropped her head and said nothing.

"Come on Tracy," insisted John. "This is serious. What on earth were you talking about?"

She took some persuading, but eventually she informed us that the three of them had talked about Cath's line of work. How Cath had told them, that though the money was good, it was the thrill and the excitement that kept her on doing it.

"So," I exploded. "So what?"

"Mary seemed to be more than a little interested in Cath's experiences," she explained. "But I honestly never, ever, imagined that she'd really take it any further."

----------------------

Back home I fidgeted and worried. I couldn't sleep so I turned on the TV.

I lost interest in the TV, so I went and found a book.

My eyes wouldn't focus on the words after a short while, so I went and got myself a cognac.

Several cognacs later, well, many cognacs later, I must have drifted off to sleep.

--------------------

I awoke with a start, wondering where I was, and what that infernal noise was.

The phone. My mobile phone was ringing, and it took me a few moments to locate the damn thing.

"Hello," I croaked into it. "Tom here."

I came to very quickly when I heard Cath's voice on the other end.

"You Ok Tom," she asked me, but I didn't answer her, just demanded if she had found Mary.

"Yes," she answered quickly. "Don't worry, I found her last night, and she's here with me now."

"Put her on Cath. I must speak to her."

"Hang on Tom. She's a bit unsure of herself, and wants to know how you feel."

"What do you mean? How do I feel? Just bloody well put her on the phone will you."

"I think she'd prefer to just come home Tom," Cath told me.

"Well tell her to come home. Come home straight away."

"You're sure about that Tom," Cath asked hesitantly.

"Of course she should come home. She's my wife and she lives here, doesn't she?"

"Even after what she did last night?"

The events of the previous night flooded back to me, and engulfed me.

Oh God, my nightmare was true.

Mary, my wife ___ no it couldn't be true.

But at that moment I knew that it was. Mary, my childhood friend, my loving wife, the mother of my two children had sold her body, and had .....

Even in my mind, I couldn't say it.

"Tell her to come home," I whispered tearfully into the mouthpiece.

-----------------------

"Hello Tom."

I looked round and saw Mary standing there. I'd been so deep in my grief that I hadn't noticed the passage of time. Hadn't heard her creeping into the house.

"Well?" I questioned her, not expecting any rational answer.

We both stared at one another in silence, me sitting, her standing, for what seemed an eternity.

'I'm so sorry Tom," she said at last in little more than a whisper. "God knows what you must think of me."

I just shook my head, at a loss at what to say to her.

"Did John and Tracy realize what happened?" Mary asked, probably as more something to break the silence, than really wishing to know.

"That you prostituted your fucking body last night you bitch," I replied with as much hate as I could muster. "Yes they know what you did."

Mary dropped her gaze, and tears started to roll down her cheeks. I said nothing, and within moments she started to sob.

I hung on as long as I could, my heart breaking as the woman I'd loved so dearly for so long cried her heart out. I was no monster, and could stand it no longer. I stood up and went over to her, took her in my arms and cuddled her as she sobbed away.

"Why Mary, why?" I demanded gently, but all she could do was cry, the few words she did try to utter, unintelligible as her body was wracked by huge sobs.

I carried her up to our bed, laid her down, and took her shoes off. I thought about undressing her to make her more comfortable, but couldn't bring myself to do it, for fear of just what I might discover underneath.

I went back down stairs and tried to make sense of it all. But it didn't make sense _ any sense at all. Try as I might, I simply couldn't gather my thoughts together. The person who had betrayed me wasn't just my wife and the mother of my children. It was one of my oldest childhood friends. My confident, my lover, my partner, my best friend.

Oh shit __ I just couldn't deal with it at all.

-------------------

It was late afternoon when Mary eventually came back down again. She'd showered and dressed in one of her pretty little outfits that she knew I liked so much. Tight hipster jeans that emphasized her slim waist and long shapely legs, and a white tee shirt that clung to her body.

God she looked beautiful, so fresh and vulnerable, and I felt my cock responding despite myself.

"Can we talk?" She asked simply.

"What is there to talk about?" I replied, almost out of spite.

She flinched, but pressed on, trying to maintain the glimmer of a smile on her lovely face, difficult though it must have been.

"For the children's sake we have to talk," Mary continued after a moment.

Christ, the kids! I'd forgotten the kids. They were still at her Mothers' and I hadn't even rang.

"It's Ok," Mary said quickly seeing me reach for the telephone, I've already rang and asked if they can stay for another day or so."

I relaxed back into the armchair, and looked up at her. We both stared at one another yet again for some time, both again at a loss as what to say.

"Why Mary?" I asked at length. "What made you do it? Don't you love me? Don't I satisfy you any more?"

Her lovely face near collapsed, and she looked at me imploringly.

"Tom, please Tom," she whimpered. "You are everything you possibly could be. I couldn't hope for a better man. I just love you so much that sometimes it hurts."

"BUT?"

"Yes but," my wife muttered, almost to herself. Then she took a big breath and looked me straight in the eye.

"I should have told you Tom. I should have talked about it months ago," she started. "Though God knows what good it would have done. I can't imagine what you could have done about it."

I kept quiet and let her continue, wondering what on earth she was going to say.

"Tom, you're the only man that I've ever made love to. Yours' is the only cock I've ever had inside me."

Her words startled me. I had never heard Mary use the word cock like that before in front of me. Besides, it appeared that her statement, after last night's incident, was no longer true.

"You mean 'was' I think, not 'is'," I pointed out, and the expression on her face removed the last lingering hopes that she hadn't gone through with it from my mind.

"You 'were' the only man I had ever made love to," Mary corrected herself. "I talk to my pals, and they had all slept with several men, some of them so many, that I could hardly believe what they told me."

"You were jealous Mary," I asked her.

"Yes jealous, and as the months went on, I got more and more jealous, more and more desperate to find out what the feel of another man's cock inside me would be like. Not necessarily a bigger cock or anything, though I have to admit that I did think about that. I simply had to find out, but couldn't stand the thought of having an affair behind your back."

Mary hesitated before carrying on, checking that I was still listening, and hadn't closed down on her.

"Then last night when Cath was describing what she did. The excitement of never knowing what man would be fucking her that night, or how good he would be in bed, or how big he would be ____ well it got to me. It got to me real bad Tom."

Mary sighed deeply, and shrugged her shoulders, before carrying on.

"And it seemed to be so cut and dried. No commitment ___ no emotion ___ no loving ____ Cath never even kisses her clients ___ it's just sex ____ plain sex. No need to have a sordid affair, and not making love like we do Tom ___ just plain raw sex."

Mary hesitated again, sighed deeply, and then carried on again.

"I just don't know what came over me. I went off with him right there in front of you and the other two. I wasn't thinking straight, but whether it was the alcohol or ...... well I don't know why it was. He took me to the bar, but didn't stop. Just carried on to the lifts, urging me on with his hand on my bottom. Then when he kissed me in the lift and I felt his erection up against me, I knew I was going to go through with it ___ I couldn't stop myself ___and so I did."

I was hurt, and my feelings were pretty raw. I could half understand what she was saying to me, but equally just couldn't make sense of it. Then I asked a stupid question. I suppose it wouldn't have mattered as I would have found out anyway, but my pride as a man fuelled my need.

"Was he bigger than me then Mary? Was he better than me when he was between your legs?"

A single tear appeared and slowly rolled down to her chin, as she breathed in deeply, her pert breasts rising and then falling as she did so.

"Not better than you Tom. Different, but not better, and in fact I suppose, however exciting it was, not even as good."

She hesitated, but obviously had more to say.

"Bigger though? I'm really sorry Tom, but yes ___ one of them was bigger. Quite a lot bigger. I'm sorry Tom, but I have to be honest."

What did she just say ___ one of them! ___ Did I hear that right? ___did she say ONE of them? Bloody hell what did she mean by that?

My mouth gaped open in surprise and some disgust, and Mary reached over and picked up her purse, emptying the contents onto the table in front of me.

There was obviously more than the four hundred pounds that she had taken from me the night before.

"There's over eight hundred pounds there Tom," she informed me. "Do what you want with it. Burn it if you want to."

"Christ Mary," I exclaimed loudly, angrily, rapidly doing my sums. "You charged the second punter even more than the first?"

"No Tom I didn't. The second one I only charged three hundred. The third one was the guy with the big cock, and when he showed it to me, I charged him even less.

-------------------

The next few days were a muddle, and I passed them in a haze. I could hardly bring myself to speak to Mary, and she kept her distance, realizing that I had to try to work out my feelings by myself. My meals appeared on the table, and clean socks and things in my drawer. Life went on.

The kids came back from Mary's parents, and they settled back in, their youth hiding from them the veil of unhappiness that was spread over the household.

John and Tracy rang, and I confirmed that Mary was back home. They carefully avoided asking any questions about what had happened, and I didn't volunteer any information.

I couldn't think of divorce. It may sound stupid, but I just couldn't consider it. I loved Mary, and she loved me.

She'd made a mistake, a terrible one, but it was just a matter of how we got over it. A matter of whether I could get over it.

I didn't know, but I prayed that I could.

Some normality returned to our family life, and I reached the point where I could cuddle up to her in bed. I couldn't bring myself to have sex with her which really upset Mary, but several times she jerked me off. I guess it was her way of trying to make up a little bit. It wasn't much, but better than nothing.

Maybe if we'd been able to talk more about the details of what had happened that night it might have helped. But Mary didn't want to talk about it, and I didn't even want to think about it. Fat chance of that!

I couldn't face meeting up with John and Tracy after one attempt. I just couldn't stand the humiliation, couldn't put up with their questions and had even more problems with their silence. They were the only one of our friends that knew, and they'd promised to keep quiet about it. I knew Mary still saw Tracy, but John and I kept our distance.