The School Reunion - No Angels Ch. 01

Who indeed. My mind was racing. If it was a made-up story then it was extremely elaborate. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. It was chinese whispers. There might be some truth in it. Perhaps Claire gave Aaron head, and the stories just grew from there. Got out of control. Became such that even the people spreading the rumours began to believe they were true.

"Hey, we've been looking for you." Steph touched my arm, snapping me out of the trance I was in. Claire wasn't with her. She sat next to me and ordered a glass of wine.

"I've been here all the time," I said. "I went to the gents a while ago, but I've been here since. Where's Claire?"

Steph quickly looked around, then put her hand on my arm. "I thought she was with you but don't worry. The last time I saw her, she was talking to Christina and they said they were going to dance for a bit. I don't do dancing, so I came looking for you. Claire said she was a bit worried where you were."

"I need to talk to her." I said after a moment. My jaw was clenched with tension and Steph must have noticed.

"Why? What's up?" She had concern on her face, and when she looked over my shoulder and saw Tom, she almost grimaced, but hastily pinched off the expression before it began.

"I just need to talk to her. Can you go find her for me?" Steph stared at me. "Please?"

"Okay," she said after a moment, then told me to watch her drink while she went to look.

After a couple of minutes though, she came back alone. "She's just with Christina and Nicola right now, dancing still. She said to give her ten minutes or so, then she'll find us. Okay?"

"Fine." I drummed my fingers on the bar surface for a moment, but I couldn't hold it in any longer. "Can you come with me for a minute? I need to ask you something."

Steph glanced at Tom again, then back at me. "Yeah, sure. Do you want to go outside for a cigarette?"

"Whatever. I just need to talk." I set off towards a nearby fire exit, but Steph quickly steered me towards the front door for some reason. "There's more room on the front, away from prying ears," she explained, whatever that meant.

I hadn't smoked for years, but I was grateful for the offered cigarette when we got outside. Steph looked really nervous, and I had a feeling she knew what I was going to ask.

"I heard that Tom guy talking at the bar," I started, deciding to just come out with it. "He was telling the other guy all about Claire when she was at school."

"Really?" Steph let the grimace form fully this time.

"Claire told me that she was a virgin until college. That she'd only slept with one man before me."

Steph's face twisted as though she was in pain. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I'm sure she had her reasons-"

I didn't want to hear excuses for Claire's lies. If they were lies. I had to know. "Tom said he fucked her, and Aaron and some dead guy called Nick. That she was basically a bit of a slut at school."

"Nick died?" Steph looked shocked.

I ignored the attempt at a subject change. "Is it true? Tell me, Steph. Or, I'll find her now and ask her myself. Right in front of everyone."

"No, don't." Steph grabbed my hands. "I don't know exactly what you heard, but yes, what you've just said is basically true. Claire wasn't a slut though, she was just young and-"

"Fuck. She lied to me." I staggered backwards, and not just from the alcohol, until my backside hit a wall and then I slid down it until I was slumped on the floor.

"She had her reasons." Steph said, sitting down next to me. "It was a bit of a scandal at the time. She was lucky that a teacher took her under his wing and protected her from it getting out into the general news."

"Mr Broadhurst. Yeah, I heard that."

"Would you have still dated her, those years later, if you'd heard that she was the school slut? Reputations count. Labels stick to people. She was ashamed of what she did, Paul. She wanted to pretend it never happened. That's why she lied to you, I'm sure of it."

That made sense, but it still hurt. I wished we'd never come here. All I wanted to do now was to collect my wife and head home. Then tomorrow, when my head was clearer and the hurt and anger had worn down, I'd talk to her about it.

"Thank you for telling me, but listen," I said to Steph gratefully. "Can you go and tell Claire that I'm feeling unwell and want to go home?"

"Yes. Will you be okay out here on your own?"

"I'll be fine. I promise."

Steph left me there to finish the cigarette.

She'd only been gone for a minute when the chubby guy, Mark came lurching out of the door. He was drunk, and to the point of being barely able to stand up. He saw me and wobbled over, dropping down onto his haunches.

"Hi, Paul. You alright, mate?" he slurred, then screwed his face up into a weird smile. "The better man won. You deserve her." Then he broke out into drunken laughter, and fell over onto his backside.

"You're drunk, Mark. Get yourself off home."

"They kicked me out!" he said incredulously. "I was just trying to tell them that someone was having sex around the back, but they wouldn't listen. They just said I was drunk and threw me out."

"You are drunk. Do you want me to order you a taxi?"

Mark's face lit up suddenly. "Hey, it might be your Claire. She always was a bit of a naughty girl or so I heard. She'd fuck anyone. They even said she was screwing the gym teacher." Then he managed to stagger to his feet and with a wave, he careered first into an adjacent wall before walking away up the road.

Someone was having sex? Around the back. Steph hadn't wanted me to go that way, through that fire exit. Of course it wasn't Claire but I had a sick feeling in my stomach as I stood up. Steph still wasn't back. How long did it take to find someone and bring them out to their waiting husband? Especially after what had just happened.

I walked back into the venue, pushing through the crowd on the dancefloor. I could see Nicola and Christina dancing, but there was no sign of Claire or Steph. They also weren't at the bar, or anywhere else that I could see, so I walked through the fire exit and looked over a little patio at the venue's rear. There were several people out there smoking and drinking, but no still Claire or Steph. But then I saw someone standing at the far end of the patio, nearby to what looked like a small entranceway into a side building. As I walked down some steps and approached the person, I saw that it was Steph. The moment she saw me, her eyes widened visibly, then she quickly composed herself again and walked towards me, putting her hands out in front of her.

"Paul, she's just doing a pee down that alleyway. She's really drunk and needed to go urgently." She laughed. "You need to take her home before she makes a fool of herself."

Her laugh was forced. Something wasn't right here. I looked over Steph's shoulder but couldn't see anything. "I'll go and fetch her before she falls over then."

I tried to walk past her, and when Steph grabbed me by the arm and tried to stop me, I knew something was definitely up. I shook her off and strode towards the alleyway but she caught up with me and pulled me to a stop again.

"Paul, please don't."

"What's going on?" I hissed at her. "Is she having sex with someone?"

Steph's eyes were full of tears. "I'm sorry, Paul. She's drunk and Aaron can be pretty insistent. She asked me to keep you busy for a minute but I didn't think-"

"You didn't think?" I spat into the night air.

What the hell was I going to do? Walk down the alleyway and beat the shit out of this guy at a school reunion? Drag Claire out of here in front of everyone, and tell them all what she was really like? Hell, she probably did fuck the teacher too, like Mark said. I had no idea who my wife was right now and no idea how was best to react. Every nerve in my body, every fibre of my being, wanted to push Steph off and sort the pair of cheating bastards out but something stopped me.

"I need to see it." I bit back my anger and repeated it softly. "I need to see it."

Steph's eyes were wide with anxiety. Tears were streaking her cheeks black with mascara. She didn't let go of my hand, but after a moment instead led me slowly and quietly down the alleyway. She looked around the dark corner and then beckoned me to do the same.

Claire was there. She was bent over. facing away from me. Her dress was up around her waist, her panties discarded on the floor nearby and Aaron was behind her, his trousers around his ankles as he fucked her.

I blinked several times, almost disbelieving what I was seeing. Was it really her? Or just another blonde in a cobalt dress that looked like her? My Claire was innocent. She'd been with one man, an older man. Plus me. That was all. This couldn't be her, but the naked breasts that had been pulled out of her dress and were swinging in rhythm with Aaron's pounding looked just like hers. When the woman came, her moan sounded just like Claire's. Then Aaron said, "Fuck yeah, Claire. You're as tight as you always were."

I stepped back. I could have watched until the end. It was entrancing. Painful. Hurtful. Confusing. But entrancing. I had no idea what to do or say. Did I just wait for them to finish? The urge to rush in there and kick the crap out of the guy had gone. I felt numb. And for some bizarre reason, incredibly horny.

Steph led me away, managing to avoid everyone by walking around the throng of people on the back patio. She lit me another cigarette and then lit herself one. We both sat on a small wall at the side of the venue, away from everyone.

"She said it was just this once. Once more, for old times' sake." Steph said. "She made me promise never to tell anyone."

"But we're married," I said, pointing out the obvious. "Why would she do this?"

"Aaron's really-" Steph hesitated, then shrugged. "Well, he's really good in bed. He's got a big... you know, and he's just well..." she paused again, not knowing quite what else to say.

Aaron was broad and probably really ripped beneath the smart shirt and tie he was wearing. Was Claire really that shallow? To be sucked into cheating on her husband, just because someone was good looking - to be tempted from her husband that easily?

"How do you know he's good in bed? Have you fucked him as well?" I shook my head, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Yes. We had a thing too, after Claire, but it didn't work out. He was cheating on me the whole time. I bet he's fucked half the girls in the room behind us. Maybe more than half."

I felt like being sick. Why the hell did I feel so bad and yet so horny at the same time? I was confused. My mind couldn't get rid of the image of Claire being fucked in the alleyway, plus I was imagining her in the gym, being spit-roasted by Tom and Aaron. The teacher walking in on them. What the hell was wrong with me?

"I never knew." I sighed. "She never told me. I feel so stupid."

Steph put her hand on my knee. It felt warm. The sky was fully dark now and the air out here was chilly.

"You're not stupid," she said softly. "You're hurt. At least you didn't do the macho idiot thing and getting into a fight with him."

"What the hell do I do now?" I asked. She hadn't moved her hand. I looked at her for answers. Her eyes were still brilliant blue, lit by the moonlight, even though they were surrounded by tear-streaked black mascara.

"Calm down. Talk to her when you've sobered up, the pair of you. Sort out your differences. No knee-jerk reactions."

"No knee-jerk reactions?" I chuckled miserably. "You mean like this?" Then I put my hand on hers, leaned in and kissed her.

Steph kissed me back. Just for the briefest of moments, she pushed her lips back against mine, but just as quickly she withdrew, exhaling sharply and pulling her hand away.

"Exactly like that. Don't be crazy, Paul." She gazed into my eyes. "Claire loves you. She never stopped talking about you all night. About how amazing you are. But then she got drunk and Aaron came over and I couldn't get a word in edgeways after that."

"It's not your fault," I conceded. No one could stop Claire when she wanted to do anything. She could be so headstrong. That was one of the things I loved about her. Her determination and downright stubbornness. Steph wouldn't have been able to talk her out of it, no matter how hard she tried. It was my fault, for letting her out of my sight and letting her get drunk.

"I feel so bad for you," Steph said. "But I really want you to work this out. I'm sure it'll just be a one-time thing. Once Claire comes out, and finds us, pretend nothing's happened. Try to move on from it."

"How can I just pretend nothing's happened?" I said angrily, but then quickly calmed myself down before anyone heard. "I guess he's just a better man than me."

"I'm sorry," Steph apologised again. "Don't listen to me. I'm no expert on relationships. Every man I've ever had has cheated on me. And no, he's not better than you. You're attractive, Paul. If you were single, I'd... No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't say that."

"Thank you," I smiled ruefully. What a mess. I sat there, my head sinking into my hands until I felt Steph's hand on my shoulder. When I looked up, her face was close to mine.

"If I let you fuck me, you'd be even, wouldn't you?" she said quietly. "You wouldn't need to finish it with her. I don't want you do. She loves you and-"

What the fuck? Was she even being serious? This was surreal and crazy. I stood up and walked off before the night could get any weirder. I turned the corner into the rear patio and saw Claire standing there, looking around.

"There you are!" she called over to me. "Where the hell were you? I've been looking for you for ages."

Yeah, sure you have,I felt like saying, but I didn't. I looked her up and down as I walked over. Her dress was slightly rumpled and her hair wasn't quite as perfect as it had been, but I wouldn't have known that she'd just been fucked against a wall in an alleyway if I hadn't just seen it with my own eyes.

"I was just talking to Steph," I said truthfully. I looked over my shoulder but there was no sign of anyone. "I've been bad and had a couple of cigarettes." I didn't know what else to say. It suddenly felt like Claire was a stranger.

Her forehead wrinkled as it always did when she sensed something was up. "Are you okay?"

"I feel a bit ill, actually." I did feel sick, and not just because of the cigarettes or several beers that I'd downed. My heart was still racing and I felt sweaty and anxious. How many people here knew what had gone on? Had Aaron gone into the venue and told his buddies? How could I face anyone?

Then Steph appeared from the fire exit door. I wasn't sure how she'd gotten in and out, but she'd done it and managed to sort out her makeup at the same time. "There's a taxi here, if you want to take it?" she offered. "I ordered it for me, but with you feeling ill, you can go first, if you like?"

"Thanks," I said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. I felt her arm around me and she whispered something into my ear but I didn't hear properly and was in too much of a rush to ask her to repeat it. I wanted to get the hell out of here, so I grabbed Claire's hand, pulled her through the venue and pushed her into the taxi before she could even protest.

She glared at me the whole way home, but didn't say a word until we got through the front door at home. "What the hell was that all about?" she shouted. "You made me look a right idiot, dragging me out like that!"

"Not as much of an idiot as you made me look." I said calmly as I took off my shoes and undid my shirt. I had no idea how I was so calm, but I was. Which was the opposite of Claire. If looks could kill, I'd have been dead ages ago.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she stormed.

I stared at her in disbelief. Did she really think I didn't know? Did she really think she'd gotten away with fucking her ex-boyfriend so blatantly while out with me? Was she going to just carry on as though nothing had happened?

"I think you know what I mean."

"Seriously," she practically screamed at me, "I have no fucking idea what you're talking about. I was having a lovely night - we both were - then you go off like that just because you're feeling sick."

I've always loved angry Claire. The way she folds her arms. The way she stamps her feet. The mean look in her eyes when she glares at me. The way she chews her lip as she tries to control her temper. She was doing all of those things right now. Her arms were shoving her tits up, making her cleavage heave as she took big, deep, angry breaths. I noticed for the first time in the light of the living room that her lipstick was smeared. Some locks of hair had escaped the hairclips and trailed down her pretty face. I wondered if she'd remembered to put her panties back on. If he'd cum inside her.

"Well?" she demanded, pouting at me.

For some reason, the way she glared, her pout, her defiant attitude, it all came together and I found myself simply wanting her. Another man had fucked her tonight. Pushed her against a wall and taken her. It should have appalled me but for some reason, all of my anger slid away, flowing from my heart and stomach into my groin and becoming something else. All I could think of doing right then, all I wanted in that moment, was to take my wife back. To reclaim her.

I walked over to her, and kissed her. Hard. She was a bit taken aback, her eyes widening, but then she kissed me back. Her arms wrapped around me, tugging at my shirt, lifting it up and over my head. I pushed her away but only to pull the front of her dress down, her smooth white tits falling free, and her hand went to my belt buckle, pulling it undone, followed by my zipper.

The dress came off and she had indeed put her panties back on, but I pulled them down, almost tearing them in the process while she yanked down my trousers and shorts, and grabbed my rock-hard cock. Within moments, we were fucking urgently on the sofa. Her pussy felt wet and tight but right at the moment, I didn't care that it was because she'd already been fucked earlier this evening.

We managed to drag ourselves upstairs to the bedroom, carrying on the passionate fuck as soon as we fell onto the bed. As I came deep in her smoothly shaven pussy, she held me tightly and whispered into my ear. "I love you, Paul. I love you so much."

How could I believe her? I desperately wanted to, but how could I? She'd lied to me for all these years, and fucked her ex-boyfriend behind my back, while I was standing just yards away. Who else had she fucked while we'd been married? What other secrets did she have?

She curled up in the crook of my arm, her head laying on my chest and her blonde hair now all loose, fanned out across me. She was asleep within moments, but I had too much on my mind to do the same. As angry and disgusted with her as I was, and as disillusioned and confused as I felt, I knew that I didn't want to lose her. I still felt like I didn't know who she was, not who she really was, but of course, she was still my Claire, my wife, and the person who up until a couple of hours before, I'd believed was my soul mate.

For some reason, as tiredness slowly started to take hold and I began to drift off to sleep, the last thing I remember being on my mind were images of her being fucked hard from behind in that alleyway, and the imagined ones of her as a young schoolgirl, sucking off and fucking her three male friends. I didn't want to think of it, but I did.

And I dreamt of it. All night.