An odd title to a story, you may think, but Martini was my wife's favourite tipple for many years. It was the first drink I ever bought her and over the years, we always had a laugh about the 'Any time, any place, anywhere' advert that they used to promote their product. My wife of twenty years, is Martina or Marti for short. We had two wonderful daughters, Jane and Sandra, aged eighteen and sixteen respectively. My name is Martin, the surname is not important to my story.
My wife and I had met when we were both in high school when we were just sixteen years old. She was a beautiful, dark haired and trim bodied, five foot six and I was immediately attracted to her. Thankfully, the feeling was mutual and we were together from that point on. Her family were strict Catholics and Marti was determined to walk down the aisle a virgin. This did not stop us from heavy petting and she loved it when I sucked on her breasts and sweet pussy. I quickly discovered that her breast sand nipples were not the most sensitive of her erogenous zones. Her ears and lobes were so sensitive that after a few minutes of touching them softly with my fingertips or better still, my tongue and teeth, she would she would surrender access to her pussy for more nibbling and sucking. She would stroke me and bring me to a climax with her hands, but she refused to take me orally. I thought that once we were married things would change and our sex life would simply mature and develop as we got older.
I left school at eighteen and got myself a job working for a local engineering firm as a trainee service engineer. The company, Aircraft Engineering serviced aircraft and also manufactured specialist sub components for the aviation industry. Marti also left school at the same time and worked in a local solicitors office as an accounts clerk. We continued to date and soon, to the delight of both our families, got engaged and in due course, married. We were both inexperienced and gradually learned how to bring each other pleasure. Marti still refused oral sex and as for anal, forget it! We stuck to the tried and tested missionary sex, her on top or me taking her doggie style was not on the agenda. She said that anal sex was for animals and anyway it was against the wishes of her Church. I learned to live with the limitations as I loved her even if our sex life was boring. Our two girls, Jane and Sandra came along in rapid succession and I finally had to make Marti and ultimatum, either she go on the pill or I would be using condoms in future. She was reluctant to do either, but I insisted and got my way. She decided the pill was the best option as she liked to feel me ejaculated inside her and a condom was not the same.
During this time, I had two great hobbies, I played Rugby at our local club and I liked to have a drink afterwards. I was a fair player, never first team standard, but pretty useful Number 8 for the Seconds. I like to think I was pretty popular sort of guy and I always flirted with the girls that hung around the club after games. Marti was often with me so nothing was ever going to come of the flirting I indulged in, though I had a few offers to slip out the back with some willing girl. When we went to parties or nights out, which wasn't that often, I would dance with Marti and the other females present and occasionally things got a little steamy, hands roamed and caressed where they shouldn't have, but noting further ensued. Marti got a reputation as the Ice Maiden as she rebuffed any and all such advances very quickly. A few of our male friends had felt the force of her hand when she slapped their face after some inappropriate advance was made.
I'm not proud of this next bit, but I started screwing around! After seven years of missionary sex, I cheated on my Marti! We were on tour in Scotland prior to the week end of the Calcutta Cup match, Scotland v England game at Murrayfield. My club had a tradition of travelling up on the Friday, playing against a local club in the morning of the match and celebrating in Edinburgh after the match. This was the first time I had been able to afford to go and I was really looking forward to it. At the after match party in some pub, I picked up a girl and ended up at her place for the night. I was not alone, one of my team mates had pulled her flat mate and we shagged all night. The girl was amazing and there was nothing she wouldn't do. Our final time in the early hours of the morning was in her bum as she screamed at me to bugger her!
We joined up with our teammates the next morning and as a consequence of our nocturnal activity the previous night, got some pretty robust treatment. We played the match, which we won even with our hangovers. On the long trip home, I was worried about the tale of my indiscretion getting beck to Marti. I confided in my pal from the night before and was told, "You need have no worries on that score. We operate a strict 'what happens on tour, stays on tour' policy. It's never been violated yet, so the Ice Maiden will never heat anything about it from us! You just need to keep the look of guilt off your face and pretend nothing's amiss."
It was with trepidation that I went home, but Marti, bless her, never suspected a thing and I was careful not to do or say anything to arouse her suspicion. When I realised that I had gotten away with it, any opportunity when we were playing in a match away from home, I accepted. I had some pretty hairy experiences, from knee tremblers with the wife of one of the opposing team behind the clubhouse to being third in line as the team banged some slut on our coach on the way home. I tried it all and found it sexually very satisfying and looked for every opportunity to cheat on my wife. One thing though, I was careful never to shit on my own doorstep! Marti was none the wiser, we kept to our now routine, Sunday and Wednesday night of boring missionary style love making.
About three years after I started cheating that I got found out! It was after one of those away matches, funnily enough not one where I had scored with the opposite sex that I was met at my front door by and angry Marti. She accused me of cheating on her and before I could deny it, she showed me the pictures depicting me and a young, leggy blonde engaged in sex. I was on my back and the blonde astride me in one picture and in the other we were in the classic sixty-nine position with her pussy in my face and my cock deep in her mouth! There was little point in trying to deny it, she had me by the short and curly's, so I tried pleading with her, saying that it was a one-time mistake and that I regretted ever talking to her and that it was her that I really loved. That didn't cut it with Marti at all. She refused to believe me and started in on me calling me, quite rightly, a bastard and a cheat and much more in that vein. I was trying to work out, when the photograph had been taken, how much she knew and who gave her the photographs? I still don't remember the incident or the girl for that matter, but it was recent! That eliminated a few of my team mates, but there were still about ten candidates for Judas! The harangue continued for about an hour and ended with her telling me to pack my stuff and get out, she burst into tears and locked herself in the bathroom. I was thankful that the kids were at their grandparents and did not witness our bust up! I packed some clothes and went to my brother, Tom's house until Marti calmed down enough for me to talk to her. Tom's wife, didn't want me and made that very clear from the start. In the end it took me three days to wheedle my way back into my own house and three weeks before she would let me back into our bed! We had some counselling from a nice middle aged man called Peter. He managed to get us to open up to each other. During one of the early sessions, I made a comment that she was a prude and referenced the fact that she was knick-named the Ice Maiden by my pals at the rugby club. That started a whole stream of angry words mostly from Marti accusing me of trying to blame her for my infidelity!
Over the next few meetings, Peter our counsellor made us look closely at our relationship and face up to the fact that we had differing ideas of what was acceptable and what was not between two consenting adults. He suggested that we read several books he had on getting the most out of sex and marriage. We had been given different books to review. I found out later, hers was full of graphic descriptions of sex acts between happily married couples. Mine was above the meaning of love and fidelity and the betrayal of trust that a partner felt when betrayed. When we had both read them, he asked Marti if she had learned anything from hers and if so to write her thoughts down and he would review them. He asked me to do a similar task and as I started to write, I realised how deeply I had betrayed her trust in me and by so doing had endangered our marriage to the point of divorce! To her credit, Marti admitted that she had been blinkered and by denying me everything but the most basic of sexual contact, she was partly to blame for my behaviour. It may sound trite, but from that point we had the beginnings of a route to saving our marriage.
Marti and I got back together again as we both tried to repair the damage I had caused. I stopped playing rugby, though we still went to the club on the rare occasions we managed to get a babysitter. I never again strayed and stopped flirting with the other sex. Marti recognised that I was trying and gradually opened up to me about her desires. She would never initiate any changes to our sex life, but when I suggested she get on top one night, she did so without complaint and it proved to be very successful. She loved the fact that she could control the pace and depth of my penetration. She got very adept at taking me to the point of orgasm before slowing the pace and delaying my moment of ecstasy just that little bit longer. That in turn seemed to trigger her own orgasm and she told me many times afterwards that she wondered why I hadn't insisted on her at least trying it before. Another change to our routine came about after she attended an Anne Summers party! One of the rugby wives had invited her attend and I had to push her into attending. She came home very aroused and told me she had found it very enlightening and that she had bought a small vibrator! I was amazed and instantly thought that, maybe, just maybe, she was starting to come out of her shell. In some ways the use of the toys encouraged her to be a little more amenable to a more adventurous sex life. For instance, she loved me to use the vibrator on her clit and occasionally on her anus, where she allowed me to penetrate her a little with the vibrating point. She came off like a rocket when I did that, but she always stopped me when I tried to push it in any deeper. I tried to get her to talk to me about it for clearly she enjoyed every moment, but to no avail. So things had changed for the better and our love life was now three to four times a week.
For our 15th Anniversary, we exchanged the usual cards and gifts over a special dinner and she was fairly drunk when we got into bed. She had a sexy short nightie on, one that encased her breasts pretty tightly, forcing then to bulge out of their cups, She was in an amorous mood and I spent ages nibbling at her earlobes and kissing her. She was clearly ready and moaned at me to make love to her. I told her that I had one more gift for her and she sat up eager to see what I had kept from her. I handed her a box that I had gift wrapped and she eagerly tore at the paper to reveal a 9" real life looking vibrator.
She smiled at looked at the fake cock in her hand before saying, "Just what do you want me to do with this?"
"I want you to lie back down and use it on yourself while I put the real thing in your pussy and fuck you from the side." I replied. This was a risk, Marti disliked the F word, but I wanted to see if I could push the boundaries a little more. She never said a word but lay back down and switched the big vibrator on until it was operating with an audible hum. She looked me in the eyes and started to move the vibrating head slowly over and around her clit. I was pleased, this was a first, she had never done anything like this in front of me before, but I did suspect that she used the small vibrator to take the edge off her needs when I wasn't around. This was a pure guess based purely on battery life. I always seemed to be replacing them these days. I dropped down beside her and lifted her legs and eased my hips under her. My cock was throbbing and I presented it to her dripping sex. As I gently teased her by pushing in a short way and withdrawing, she moaned once more, "Don't torment me! Please stick it in deep and make love to me."
"We're not making love tonight my darling, tonight I'm going to fuck you and fuck you hard!"
I increased the tempo of my thrusts and imbedded myself deeper into her hot womanhood. As I did this, she turned the speed dial on the base of the vibrator to full speed. The humming got louder and Marti started to moan and twist , trying to hit the right spot with her latex coated dick. She started with a small orgasm and quickly moved on a huge shuddering climax! I still hadn't come and I twisted round pushing her hips and thighs completely off the mattress exposing her brown anus to my wandering hands. I used the lubrication from her wet pussy to lubricate my fingers and eased them into her back passage as I continued to pump my erection into her. I could feel my hardness through the thin membrane that divided her two holes. She was starting to climax again and again as I worked on her and suddenly, she squirted, flooding my cock and balls with her juices. She screamed at me, "Fuck me, harder, harder ohhhh!" as she came once more. I rammed my two fingers into her arse as far as I could as I exploded into a tremendous orgasm myself. I was shaking in the aftermath ad my cock continued to pulse and jerk for what seemed like ages before she twisted and in so doing eased my fingers from her bottom. "Wow!" was all I could say before I pulled her to me and kissed her deeply. She got up and hurried to the toilet to clean herself up and I followed her as I needed a pee and my groin was soaked with her juices. We looked at each other and she smiled. I tried to talk to her about what had happened but she refused to discuss it that night or even the following day.
Whenever we made love after that, she refused to permit me to use my fingers in her bottom until the night of our 18th wedding anniversary when we discovered we had run out of batteries for our toys and she was getting anxious about not achieving her orgasm. She was on top and grinding her pubic bone against mine so hard that it was actually starting to hurt. She was so wet and sloppy that I had a problem generating enough friction to maintain an erection. I was surprised when she whispered, "Use your fingers in the back, quickly now, I need to come!" I stretched to obey and found that my fingers slipped into her dark hole quite easily, but didn't take the time to reflect on the significance at the time, I was too preoccupied with bringing her to a climax. As she pumped herself on my erection, I worked my fingers deeper and twisted them savagely. She let out a scream and shuddered to a climax as I picked up the pace from beneath her and spent myself into her soaking depths! Afterwards we lay there talking quietly and I said, "I love you so much and thank you for being the best wife in the world." It sounds corny now that I write this, but that's how it happened. She professed her love for me and I said, "I hope we can keep having moments like this forever."
It was as if I had tempted the fates or upset some higher authority for the next weekend brought about the events that led to our divorce!
It was Saturday in Spring and it was a rare sunny, warm day. We had gone into town shopping and had completed the weekly grocery shop, loaded the bags into the car, when Marti decided to take the girls to shop for new underwear for them. I was clearly not welcome to accompany two teenaged girls shopping for that type of attire, so I told them I would go to the pub and have a pie and a couple of pints and that I would see them at home later. I gave Marti the car keys and said I would walk home or get the bus back afterwards. I had supped a few pints and started walking home through the park. It was such a nice day, I sat on a bench and watched the world pass by. I reflected on how well Marti and I were getting along now and I must have dozed off for a few minutes. I woke with a start and realised that I had been sitting there for over half an hour and started making tracks homeward once more. I needed a piss so I detoured to towards the public toilets situated by some high bushes at the edge of the park. As I approached, I heard a loud scream and rushed into the Gents where the scream had emanated from. It was darker inside and before my eyes had adjusted to the gloomy interior, two youths rushed past me and one of them thrust something into the folds of my jacket.
All I could tell was that they were young, probably nineteen or twenty years old, wearing jeans and hoodies. I went further into the toilet and found a young girl, probably no more than eighteen slumped on the cold, wet floor. She had clearly been assaulted as he skirt was around her waist and her blouse ripped open, revealing her budding breast that had been pulled from her lacy bra. She was crying hysterically, her tears mingled with her mascara stained cheeks. I went to her and tried to help her up, when she sprang at me trying to scratch out at my eyes and face. Her nails were long and extremely hard and my hands went up defensively to ward off her attack. She scratched the back of my hands and managed to scratch my face as well before I could restrain her. The next thing was felt myself being hauled off her and knocked to the floor and kicked a few times. I tried to explain that I was just trying to help the girl, when she screamed, "He raped me! That man raped me!" On hearing that, the two men that had pulled me off her, started to give me a right hiding and I was only saved when the Police charged in and pulled them off me. I was taken to the Police Station in town along with the two men who had assaulted me. I was locked in an interview room and left alone for an hour or so. I was still bleeding from her scratches and feeling very sorry for myself, but confident that when the girl came to her senses, I would be thanked for coming to her assistance and released.
That didn't happen, she didn't change her story and after I gave my statement, I was arrested on the suspicion of rape and a Doctor examined me, took DNA samples, blood samples, photographs, the works and then they chucked in a cell. I demanded to be allowed my phone call and contacted Marti and asked her to get me a solicitor. I had no chance to explain what had happened, only that I was in a cell and in deep trouble! Later that night, the cell door swung open and a man I later discovered was an Assistant Chief Constable or ACC for short entered the cell alone. I'm a pretty big man, you don't have little guys playing at No.8 in a rugby pack, but he was bigger than me by a long way. He grabbed me by the throat and pulled me to my feet and proceeded to batter me senseless until at some point, he either got tired or he was pulled off me. I do remember him bending down and hissing in my ear, "You Cunt! That was my daughter you raped and I fully intend to see you banged up for the next ten years. You're nothing but scum and I hope you enjoy your new life being faggot in Strangeways!"
I knew what Strangeways was, a prison in Manchester and by all accounts, not one of the more enlightened repository's of Her Majesty's guests! He left and I was left there for the night. In the morning, I was taken to an interview room and met my solicitor for the first time. He told me he had been contacted by my wife and asked to represent me. I explained the circumstances of my arrest and of the beatings I had received and he promised to take the matter up with the appropriate authorities. After I was returned to my cell and the following morning, taken to court where I met my solicitor for the second time and also a Barrister he had engaged to defend me. I was told that this was just an arraignment and all I had to do was confirm my name, address and plead not guilty! I was told that he would ask for bail, but he was doubtful that it would be granted given the nature of the charges. He also warned me that public feeling was running high and that the press had been plastering my details all over their front pages. The girl had not been identified, but since I came from a small town, everyone had a fair idea of who the victim was. I said, "Don't forget, I'm also a victim here!" He looked at me carefully and said, "The evidence I have seen so far is pretty damning, mostly circumstantial, but I will do my best for you."