tagLoving WivesOh Fuck!!!

Oh Fuck!!!


Just a short story based on a supposedly true tale I read in a gossip magazine once. No explicit sex I'm afraid, so if you are looking for a quick 'fix' please move on quietly.

As always, constructive criticism and comments are most welcome and, as usual, any personal attacks either on me or Britain in general will be deleted so don't even bother writing them.

Votes are both helpful and appreciated by us budding writers in order for us to gauge readers reactions to our efforts, so please find the time to comment and vote (no matter what your feelings)

Hope you enjoy,



Helen Patterson reclined back on her comfortable pillows admiring the strong, muscular physique of the tall black man getting dressed at the bottom of her bed.

A smile crossed her lips as she remembered vividly how that same man had ravaged her body for the last two nights; how he had used her for his enjoyment and satisfaction; and how he had totally satisfied the sexual yearning she had been feeling a few days before.

She looked down and smiled at the marital rings on her finger, the beautiful diamond and ruby engagement ring her husband of 15 years had placed there when he proposed to her on her on her 25th birthday all those years ago, the plain single gold band that he had placed there when they married shining like a beacon of their love. A tinge of sorrow crossed her mind, sorrow that she had been unfaithful yet again to their loving marriage back home in England. No remorse though. She thoroughly enjoyed her extra-marital dalliances while she was away in New York one week in every month and had long ago ceased to have any feelings of guilt and shame at her blatant betrayal of the wedding vows they had exchanged on that beautiful summers day all that time ago.

She needed those sexual escapes. Her life at home was wonderful, loving and caring. The sex with her husband John was never less than satisfying and more often than not absolutely spectacular, leaving them both totally satiated and content. Why then did she stray every time she was away from her marital bed? Why no guilt? No remorse? She knew she risked everything by doing what she did, so why did she continue?

Her adulterous betrayal of her marital vows had started 8 years previously. She had been travelling to New York for the monthly main board meetings for a couple of years by then, staying in the same hotel, same room even, for the majority of those times. Adamantly refusing the temptations and inevitable invitations offered by work colleagues, she invariably spent lonely nights in her suite after eating in the first class restaurant downstairs. That particular day she had been involved in some intense discussions at work, the rivalry between between her and her peers for the approval of the main board of their individual suggestions had spilled over into some rather heated debates and she was extremely tense when she had arrived back at her hotel in the early evening. Against all her self-imposed rules for her 'downtime' as she put it, she had gone straight into the bar and had several large gin & tonics to help her wind down; those strong drinks of course had gone straight to her head as she had had nothing to eat for several hours beforehand. This situation had left her extremely vulnerable to the attentions of the devastatingly attractive man who had joined her at the bar and invited her to have another drink with him. He appeared to be several years younger than her and she felt dangerously flattered by his obvious sexual overtones. Consequently, they had spent the rest of the night in her room, fucking like rabbits, her body responding to his far more than she would have wished if she had been sober.

She had woken the following morning alone in her bed with a slight hangover; a sticky, well-used body, and an extreme sense of anguish and remorse at what she had done to betray her loving husband. Surprisingly, she had felt extremely relaxed in the meetings the rest of the day, her demeanour and mood giving the intended impression to her colleagues of a woman at the 'top of her game' who was not someone to be messed with in the slightest.

Travelling back to London the following day she had gathered her thoughts as she sat in First Class, sipping the complimentary champagne as she ate her wonderful lunch. Normally she would have been working on her laptop, but on this occasion she had far too much going on in her head to be able to concentrate on such mundane matters. She went through all the emotions one would expect in a woman who had just committed drunken adultery for the first time, the feelings of guilt and shame; the wonder of how she would cope if John noticed any differences in her body; how she would be able to look him and their children in the eyes, knowing that she had betrayed their love like that. At the back of her perplexed mind however was the underlying feeling of excitement. The thrill and depravity of giving herself willingly to a stranger for the first time since she met her husband totally overpowering all the sentiments of guilt and remorse. By the time the plane had landed at Heathrow she knew, this was not going to be the last time she fucked another man!!!....

* * * * * *

Ms Patterson, as she was known at work, was the 42 year old CEO and Vice President of the UK arm of a multi-national merchant bank based in the USA. She had a first class Business Management degree from Manchester University as well as a Business Law degree from Cambridge. She had risen rapidly through the ranks at the bank, her talents as a hard negotiator and her keen eye for a new business opportunity soon bringing her to the attention of the movers and shakers who ran the business. Determined never to have to be beholding to anyone in her career, she had steadfastly refused to ever date anyone she worked with, never becoming involved in the sexual merry-go-round that other women seemed to succumb to in order to advance in the male dominated world of corporate finance.

Helen had met her husband John at Manchester University. He was a year in front of her, studying computer science, and they had met when they both attended a summers ball at the end of her first year there. They had hit it off immediately, her being attracted to his wit and rugged good looks; him, as he had confessed many times since, enchanted by her beautifully shaped, medium sized breasts. Although he was a year in front academically at Manchester, she was actually two years older than him when they met. She had already studied for her Law degree at Cambridge and had enrolled at Manchester on the advice of her father. He was a very successful businessman in the Northwest of England and had studied at 'his' university for his own degree years previously.

Helen and John were inseparable almost from the first moment they met. They had moved into her flat together after only knowing each other for five weeks and all their family and friends were immediately aware that they were total soul-mates and destined to marry as soon as they could. That event however took a little longer than they and anyone else had anticipated. They were both extremely busy trying to build their careers until eventually, just before Helen's 27th birthday, they discovered she was pregnant. Not wanting her wedding photos to be ruined by having a large bump in the front of her dress, they had married a short few weeks later on the island of St Lucia in the Caribbean, surrounded by their families and a few close friends and all paid for of course by her delighted parents who loved John like the son they had never had themselves.

Baby Annabell had arrived faultlessly on time just after the Millennium, followed two years later by her sister Rebecca. It was obvious from the beginning that Helen was going to rise quickly in the corporate world, her opportunities for advancement far in excess of her husbands. With this in mind, they had taken the marital decision for her to concentrate on her blossoming career while he worked from home; being a so-called house husband as well as the children's main carer and major housekeeper.

This arrangement worked extremely well for them. Helen had gradually advanced to her current position, whilst John had started his own website design business, working from his home office in the evenings after his wife had arrived home and taken over the care of their children. Although John's business was extremely successful, Helen's salary soon outstripped her husband's hugely – her recent annual bonuses alone were all in excess of £1 million – and consequently, they were a very affluent young family.

* * * * * *

Helen was acutely aware as a lawyer that, in the event of her marriage breaking down and them getting divorced, John would receive substantial alimony from her as well as child support. He would undoubtedly get custody of the girls and as the main carer, would also be allowed to keep possession of their beautiful home in the royal borough of Windsor. Despite all this, she still felt safe in her adulterous behaviour.

She had imposed several rules on herself when she decided to continue fucking other men. - It would only happen while she was in New York – There would be no work colleagues involved – As the hotel she stayed in was a 5 star in Manhattan, the men involved would all likely be well-to-do businessmen but she would also try and pick only the married ones, (less likely to want to continue a relationship) – There would be NO intimacy, i.e.:- no kissing or oral sex on her part, that was to be kept for her husband. - The men would be allowed access to both her pussy and her anus, (she loved anal sex) and would ALWAYS have to wear a condom – There would be no sex less than 48 hours before she returned to her husband, (gave her body time to remove any trace of sexual activity) - And lastly, she would NEVER, NEVER, give her true name or phone number to her paramours, no matter how attractive they were.

With these 'rules of engagement' in place she felt that there was no way that John would ever discover her betrayal.

* * * * * *

Two weeks after her latest New York trip, Helen arrived home on the Friday evening after work to a surprisingly quiet house. Normally at that time of day it would be filled with the sounds of the girls creating havoc while John was making supper.

She let herself in the front door and after dropping her briefcase and keys on the hall table went in search of her family. She found her husband sat at the kitchen table with a buff coloured, A4 sized envelope in front of him. She received no answer when she enquired as to the whereabouts of the children, instead, with a wave of his hand and a stern stare, John indicated that she should sit opposite him at the other end of the table.

Helen was worried. Had something happened to the girls? Was it too terrible that her husband couldn't even speak about it? Was it their parents? She began to panic slightly as her poker-faced husband continued to stare at her, his face showing no emotion although his eyes were glaring hard at her as though he was trying to look into her very soul.

Silently he reached into the envelope and took out a neatly folded piece of paper. Opening it up he slid it across the table to her and indicated she should read what was written on it.

Dear Mr. Patterson,

It is with much regret that I feel obliged to send you the enclosed evidence of your wife's adultery.

The man in the photographs and video is actually my husband Paul, - our last name doesn't really matter. I have suspected for several months that he was being unfaithful to our marriage on his frequent business trips and consequently hired a private detective to check if my suspicions were correct.

As you can see from the evidence, sadly this has proved to be the case. I haven't personally looked at the video (much too painful) but my lawyer has and tells me it is quite damning. I have though looked at the enclosed photos and, as both their wedding rings are plainly visible in several of the pictures, I am certain that both of them were quite aware that they were each married. This means to me that your wife too has willingly committed adultery on your marriage and, whilst not wishing to break up another union as well as my own, and not knowing any arrangement you and your wife may have, I do feel so angry about the whole situation that I have no alternative other than to include you in my outrage.

I am so sorry to have to be the bearer of such bad news but I would hope that if the shoe was on the other foot so to speak, you would have informed me too.

I have written both my private investigator's and lawyer's phone numbers on the back of one of the photos, just in case you feel you need to confirm any of the evidence enclosed, and once again would like to express my sorrow.

Yours Sincerely,

'A Sorry Wife'

Helen was inwardly panic-stricken after reading the damning note. How unlucky was she that her last lover had been a serial adulterer like herself but unlike her, had a suspicious spouse. Her mind was in turmoil as she tried to think as to what her best reaction would be. Her years of negotiating and not showing her emotions to her opponents helped as she quickly ran through the alternative ways of responding to the obviously infallible evidence of her adultery in her husband's possession. What was the best way to rectify the dire situation? Was there any way she could save her marriage?

Quickly deciding that perhaps partial truth and throwing herself on her husband's mercy may be the best strategy, she started to tell him what she thought he should hear. How it had been the first time it had happened; How she had been celebrating a complex deal going through successfully and drank too much champagne (he knew that champagne made her giggly and irresponsible); How she had felt herself inexplicably and drunkenly attracted to the other man, filled with curiosity as to whether all the myths she had heard about black men and their prowess in bed were true; Swearing to her husband it would never happen again, she begged his forgiveness.

John responded to her tear-filled pleading by shaking his head slowly side to side, a look of sorrowful contempt distorting his handsome face. He again reached into the envelope and pulled out one of the enclosed photographs, pushing it across the table to his wife. He then pressed the play button on the remote for their in-house music system that he had been holding in his other hand. Helen heard her instantly recognisable voice through the speakers, the reproduction crystal clear and in glorious surround sound. She heard herself explaining her rules for committing adultery to her new lover, the words condemning her beyond repair. Looking down at the photograph in her hands and with tears streaming down her face by then, she saw through the haze the total, unmitigated damning evidence as to the pack of lies she had just blurted out to her disbelieving husband.

There, obviously taken through the open balcony doors of her hotel suite, was a picture of her on her knees being impaled anally by a rock-hard cock. Her face plainly showed the lust she had been feeling at her debasement and both hers and her lovers wedding rings were clearly visible glinting in the light of the bedside lamp. However, the final irrefutable proof of her lies was in the main feature of the man fucking her ass so enthusiastically. Instead of the black man she had confessed to having an illicit affair with, there was a middle-aged, slightly overweight man who was clearly as WHITE as the driven snow.

Helen buried her heads in her hands, sobbing loudly as she realised her marriage and serenely comfortable life was irretrievably over. She was unable to look her contemptuous husband in the eyes as he spoke for the first time since she had arrived home.

"I want you out of here before I bring the children home. I've packed most of your things in suitcases and taken them to your parents house, you can arrange with them to pick the rest up when the house is empty."

The cheating, lying wife gasped, uttering just two words in reply before breaking down completely,

"OH FUCK!!!!!"

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