Playing with Fire

And then I told her about me getting caught by Mr Blake after my last time with Nobby and how he'd made me do things for him at work I didn't particularly want to, even though I did them three times a week. And then I told her about Darryl.

I confess I was shocked when she eventually revealed to me that she thought I presented as a classic submissive and in her opinion the pivotal outcome following the incident on the bus wasn't my attraction to older men, it was more the submissive nature of my reaction to the occurrence. If it had been a younger man that sexually assaulted me, I may never have been drawn to the older men in the same way.

Now that was a lot to take in and I wasn't sure if she was right or not. But she was the qualified expert. She had a number of certificates on the wall that proclaimed that.

TERRY'S STORY

So that was it then. Our idyllic life together was over. I'd played with fire and got burnt. Yes, I know I'm to blame, and I take full responsibility. But originally it was just a stupid game that I thought would be fun, as did she.

So I pushed, I teased, I cajoled as I blindly pushed her further and further down the rabbit hole. And all to satisfy my perversion of watching my fiancée playing the siren. Tempting older men to lust after her, wanting to see her turned on by what she was doing, just so I could take advantage of her rampant horniness.

But how it had spectacularly back-fired! I'd awoken a deep rooted perversion in Vicky that went much further than I'd thought was possible and one that ultimately exposed her so called sex addiction.

I admit now that I couldn't cope with the resultant fall out. I found it hard to understand what Vicky's feelings were about her addiction. Yes, she tried to explain, and I tried hard to understand her motives, but I just couldn't get past the deception.

When she confessed that Mr Blake was fucking her three times a week, I was horrified. But that paled into insignificance when she confessed of her multiple liaisons with Darryl.

I tried. I mean, I really tried. But it got to the point where I couldn't bear to look at her anymore, let alone talk to her. We no longer had a working relationship because my trust in her had gone, and I knew we couldn't carry on like this. It was hard but I finally took the decision to move out of our flat, permanently.

Obviously, she didn't take it well. She rang me constantly, pleading with me to come home. But I just couldn't.

Two weeks later I broke off our engagement. We were done. She wouldn't let it lie though. She pleaded for more time to sort out her problems. She told me of her therapy sessions and how her counsellor had determined that she had a submissive streak, and it was that, rather than a desire for old men that had been the main factor in her descent into sex addiction.

The incident on the bus was her first submissive event and had been a pivotal moment in time that had been buried and supposedly forgotten until our games had started and unleashed the memories. Had it been a younger man on the bus, the counsellor had doubted that Vicky would have got off on doing what she did with the older men.

It was too much for me to comprehend and I couldn't get my head around it. Maybe I didn't try hard enough to understand. The main problem for me was that I still couldn't get over the deception. That was the thing that hurt the most. If she'd confessed, maybe we would have had a chance.

* * * * *

It was four months later and James and Andy had finally persuaded me to go out with them. We'd done the pub crawl and were now in a new nightclub that James had insisted that we just had to try out.

I was pretty much the worse for wear when I saw them walk in. Yes it was Darryl and Vicky, and they were arm in arm. When she saw me she looked horrified. She quickly turned to Darryl and spoke to him. As she pulled at his arm, he looked over to where I was seated. And then they turned and left.

How did I feel about it? To see her again pulled at my heart strings. She looked sad, even when she'd walked into the club she didn't appear happy. But she was with Darryl. Presumably she'd got what she wanted.

Oh fuck it! What did I care. We were done and I was over her. She could do what she liked, be with whoever she wanted. That chapter of my life was done and dusted.

But who was I kidding! It wasn't long before I made my excuses to James and Andy and left. Seeing Vicky had left me distraught. My heart was broken and seeing her had been painful to say the least. I certainly wasn't in the mood for drinking anymore. So I went home. And yes, I too had moved back in with my parents.

I was alone and my life was miserable. And it was no-one's fault but mine.

VICKY'S STORY

Of all the gin joints, in all the world...

Well, forget that classic film quote, I never thought for a moment that I would run into Terry again. Yes - I truly am that stupid. But there he was, and here I was with Darryl.

Why was I with Darryl? Well my treatment for sex addiction was still work in progress. I still had a strong desire for sex, although the lust driven excesses had been curbed somewhat. And Darryl had been most persistent in seeing me again. And he did have a great cock, and he certainly knew how to use it.

What's a girl to do? I didn't love him, doubted I ever would, but he was giving me what my body appeared to crave. Darryl was my fix. My methadone treatment. On a positive note I'd seemingly progressed far enough with my therapy that I no longer felt the desire to go looking for old men dick, in fact I'd not even been tempted to revisit The Grape Escape.

Seeing Terry had been most traumatic and part of me longed for a Hollywood film ending, where he would be my knight in shining armour and come and sweep me off my feet, and all would be right with my universe again as we kissed. Roll film credits!

But life isn't like that. I told Darryl that we needed to leave and I would make it worth his while if we left immediately. He was more than eager.

We fucked all night, and in the morning he asked me to move in with him. A couple of weeks later he told me he was moving to a club in Italy at the end of the football season, and would I go with him. I was surprised because this season was a long way from over. But he said he'd already signed a pre contract agreement to join them, whatever that meant.

What the hell. My life here was shit anyway. The next day I bought an Italian phrasebook.

I guess my life was sorted. Despite the fact that I still loved Terry, he clearly didn't want me and if my relationship with Darryl didn't work out... well... Italian men are supposed to be sexy and dominant and like their women to be submissive... or is that a myth that I just made up!

EPILOGUE

TERRY'S STORY

They say time is a great healer. I say, bullshit!

It was months later. I'd dated quite a few women, even had sex with some of them, but knew I was totally incapable of forming any kind of long-lasting relationship with any of them going forward. And all because I thought I was still hung up on Vicky.

I didn't want to be. I'd really tried to forget about her. So I decided I needed a fresh start. I changed my job and was now living in another town. But even that fresh start had failed to revitalise my life.

And then I met Sally. She was blonde and bubbly and dare I say it, a little bit overweight. But she was really fun to be with. I started to fall in love with her and as I did so, so my thoughts about Vicky faded away.

A year later and we were married and she was pregnant. I thought I had it all and had finally laid the ghost of Vicky to bed.

It was just another typical day going into work that Monday. That was until we had a big meeting. I was working for a small production company that specialised in documentary style programmes for TV.

At the meeting it was revealed we'd been asked to help out on one of those 'behind-the-scenes' documentaries, you know the ones I mean, the type you see on Prime Video for example.

The main company were going to shoot a series on the fierce rivalry between Associazione Calcio Milan and Football Club Internazionale Milano or as they're better known throughout the footballing world - AC Milan and Inter Milan. They were going to do the hardcore stuff, including interviewing the 'ultras'. For those of you who don't know what they are, they're the hardcore fans, often prone to violence. They make the English football hooligans seem tame by comparison. So good luck with that, was my thoughts on the matter.

Our company's input was to to focus on the wives and girlfriends of the players of both teams. Brilliant - NOT! I was so underwhelmed when it became increasingly obvious that the WAGS segment was to be shot almost in a reality TV show format, and we all know how shit and false that is.

Despite the fact I would be spending quite some time in Italy, I didn't want to be involved. I'd joined this company because it was perceived to be an up and coming force in cutting edge documentaries, and now it had been lured to the 'dark side' to do a fluff piece?

But I was under contract and had to go where my bosses decided. Luckily I wasn't involved in the planning aspects of the show and had no idea how they were going to set up the WAGS interactions with each other. I suspect they were hoping for some animosity between the women from each club and if there wasn't, then I was sure the production team would manufacture some, as they always do in reality shows.

It was all going okay. From an eye-candy point of view most of the women were drop dead gorgeous although they did absolutely nothing for my libido. Most of them seemed so superficial and dare I say, boring!

And then in walked Vicky.

I was stunned. She looked amazing. Forget about Paris, London or New York; Milan is the fashion capital of the world. And Vicky was dressed in the best it had to offer.

I was overwhelmed by her appearance. She looked amazing. The dress she wore was alluring and sexy and clung tightly to her body thus highlighting her sumptuous curves. But whilst her body was spectacular, her face still displayed that freshness and youthfulness that belied her age.

She was clearly nervous and smiled hesitantly as she was welcomed into the group of WAGS from AC Milan. And then it came rushing back. She was still with Darryl Rose and whilst my life had gone down the shitter, he'd signed for AC Milan. Understandably, I'd lost all interest in my local team whilst he was still playing for them, and had taken little notice of which club he'd subsequently joined at the end of that season.

I decided to avoid her at all cost. But of course it didn't work out that way. During a break in shooting I'd gone outside to get a breath of fresh air. I'd been there for about five minutes when I was aware of someone sliding up to stand alongside me. Her perfume smelled exotic and expensive, and I could feel the warmth of her body envelope me as she moved closer.

"Hello Terry," she said, in a quiet voice. "It's lovely to see you again."

I turned my head sideways and found myself staring straight into two deep pools of chocolate coloured love and desire. My stomach turned over as my knees went weak.

VICKY'S STORY

I couldn't believe it! Terry was here, here of all places! My heart soared. I couldn't wait to talk to him again.

I hadn't wanted to take part in this show. It felt shallow and trite and was not the sort of thing I would personally ever watch, let alone take part in. But Darryl had insisted. He thought it would get me out of my funk, as he put it. We hadn't been getting on that well for a while. In fact, I couldn't even remember the last time we'd had sex.

I had seemingly got over my sex addiction, or at least had it under control. And now that it was, I'd discovered that I didn't need or want Darryl anymore. It had always just been about the sex with him. But I needed more now. I had realised I wanted to be in love with a man, share my life with him, in every aspect of what that meant, and he was never going to be the one. I wanted what I'd had with Terry.

I'd actually been on the verge of leaving Darryl and going back home when this show had come up. He'd pleaded with me to take part and in the end, I begrudgingly agreed. I felt I owed him that much before I dropped the hammer on our relationship.

And now, even after all this time, seeing Terry again had opened up all my old feelings of love for him, although I guess I'd never lost them in the first place.

"How are you?" I asked.

"Fine," he replied. "You look great," he added after a long pause.

"Thanks."

There was another long pause. Why was it so hard to talk to him? We were like complete strangers, but even complete strangers can talk to each other more than we were doing.

I could see him shooting the occasional glance at me, so in the end I went and stood in front of him. He appeared aloof as he tried to look past me, his male pride not allowing him to look at me directly.

I put a hand on his arm fully expecting him to stiffen. But he didn't. He lowered his gaze and looked into my eyes.

"I still love you Terry."

He didn't reply, he just stared at me.

And then a production assistant came to tell us we were about to start shooting again.

We didn't speak again that day but every time I looked over towards Terry he was looking at me.

The next day, I was one of the first to arrive. I couldn't wait to see him again. I'd had a dreadful nights sleep, tossing and turning as I dreamt of being in bed with Terry. And no, we weren't sleeping!

I took every opportunity to be near him as much as I could. I took all my breaks with him, whether he liked it or not. Even the production crew started to notice how much I was always around him. I even heard some of the lewd comments that were thrown his way.

I asked him out for dinner. He refused the first time but eventually gave in. Darryl being around wasn't a problem as he was away with his team, playing in some other European country for some reason.

The meal was superb, the company stiff and reserved. But as I got some Italian beer inside of him and topped it up with copious amounts of some good Italian red wine, he began to loosen up a bit. I asked if he would come home with me. He refused at first but after a few more drinks he acceded to my request.

TERRY'S STORY

I know, I know. I was stupid. I have no defence for my actions, other than I'm a guy and I was drunk. But when a gorgeous woman asks you back to her place and you know that you're definitely going to get your leg over, then your moral compass just seems to disappear.

And it didn't help that it was Vicky. Thinking only with my dick, I was too weak to resist and gave no thought to my pregnant wife back home.

The sex was urgent and physical. We certainly didn't make love. And it didn't take me long to blow my load. I think she had an orgasm but I'm not sure if she faked it or not because I came really quick. There was no repeat performance. I fell asleep almost straight away.

It was the sun streaming through the large picture window that awoke me the next morning. For a moment I was disorientated, unsure of where I was. It was when I turned my head to see who was lying next to me that it all came flooding back.

Shit! What had I done? I slid out of bed and grabbing my clothes as I left the bedroom, made my way downstairs where I eventually found a bathroom. Relieved, I found the kitchen and drank some water, hoping that would help get rid of the buzz in my head. Taking a second glass of water with me I wandered into the living room. As I sipped from my glass of water I idly began to look around.

It was then I saw it. It was a picture of Vicky and Darryl. I picked it up and gasped. She was wearing a short white dress and was holding a small posy of flowers in her hands.

Fuck!

She was married. She'd married Darryl.

Fuck!

I had to get out of there.

"It's not what you think."

I turned quickly, startled by the sudden appearance of Vicky into the room. I realised I still had the picture in my hand.

"Sorry?" I replied, as I placed the photo frame back on the table.

"It's not what you think," she repeated, "we're not married. We were at a wedding of one of Darryl's team-mates. I was a bridesmaid. All the bridesmaids wore the same dress and had flowers."

"Doesn't matter," I said, "you're still in a relationship with... HIM... and you've just cheated."

She came closer and put a hand on my arm. "But I love you Terry, not him. I'm only with him because you abandoned me and I didn't want to be alone."

I shook my head. I had to get out of there. I couldn't think while she looked at me with those deep, lustful, chocolate brown eyes. Plus she was naked. And that certainly didn't help AT ALL.

"What do you want from me Vicky?" I asked.

"I thought that would have been obvious from last night," she said, smiling coyly.

I let out a deep irritated sigh in response.

"No, no... what I mean to say is that seeing you again Terry has re-awakened all my feelings for you again... although they never really left. I love you Terry... have from the moment I first met you and will until the day I die.

"I want you back Terry. I'm over my sex addiction, I'm cured. I no longer have any kinky desires or needs. I'm ready to be yours again, but properly this time. No fantasies."

I shook my head. "But I'm not over it Vicky. Yes, I know the whole Grape Escape debacle was on me too. I pushed because I thought it was exciting. For both of us. And it was to a certain extent. That was until you seemingly wanted more and started going behind my back. I could excuse that with Nobby and to some extent with Mr Blake, but what really killed US, was your fling with Darryl. That wasn't ANY part of OUR fantasy, that was all on you."

"But Terry, I'm cured... I..."

"Vicky..." I interrupted, "You're not listening to me. It's over. You killed it with Darryl. I may well be a weak person for being unable to get past that and forgive you. But that's who I am. And I can't change who I am."

"But Terry, I love you, I need you, you are my soulmate."

I shook my head sorrowfully and looked down at my feet. "Vicky. I'm married, and my wife's pregnant." As I uttered the words, even to me my voice sounded dull and emotionless.

"What?" she gasped. I watched as all the colour drained from her face. But she recovered well.

"So what was last night all about," she finally said, her voice trembling slightly although her tone was harsh.

"A moment of weakness and a massive mistake, one that will never be repeated."

The silence was awkward, the atmosphere now distinctly chilly.

"I have to go," I said.

"Please don't," she replied.

"I have to go to work," I stated. "No doubt you'll be there?"

"Yes, I guess," she answered softly.

She wasn't needed that day so thankfully for me she didn't turn up, but my part of the day was busy nonetheless. When I got back to my hotel room I promptly rang my company in England. I told them I had a family emergency and would have to leave Italy on the first available flight. Knowing Sally was pregnant they immediately agreed to let me return. She of course was fine. It was me who had the emergency.

Was I running away? You bet your life I was.

Sally was surprised to see me return so soon and was a little bit intrigued as to my sudden burst of loving attention that I showered on her. I told her it was because Italy was such a passionate place and it had rubbed off on me. I think she bought it. The guilt I carried due to my last ever liaison with Vicky took a while to diminish but eventually it did.

VICKY'S STORY