tagLoving WivesIs This It Ch. 01

Is This It Ch. 01


Is This It – Chapter 1 - A man coming to terms with his marriage

My name is Chris Mathieson. I'm married to Debbie and we have three children, Erin aged 12, Liz age 10 and Bobby aged 6.

We live in a small seaside town in Scotland in a house left to Debbie by her Grandmother. It's a nice house and since we moved in ten years ago, we have spent a lot of time remodelling it to Debbie's taste. I say Debbie's taste as I provide the labour and she, the interior design skills.

This arrangement works pretty well, Debbie is the clever one and an interior designer by profession. I on the other hand, well I am a plasterer by trade, a manual worker who until recently was employed as a jobbing plasterer around construction sites locally.

Due to the slump in new housing builds, I decided to branch out two years ago and now have a specialist plasterwork business. Period houses in this part of the world have a lot of moulded plasterwork on their ceilings and I found I have knack of finding the right way to take mouldings of the existing, often damaged work sites and reproduce new mouldings that match the existing. In two year's I have gone from being the hands on fixer, undertaking all the work required to a situation where I now employ three of my mates to do the manual elements freeing me to concentrate on the sales, estimating and customer management. I'm the boss and it feels great work-wise.

So everything in the house is rosy! Not a bit of it. To find the reasons for my current situation, one has to go back almost twenty years. Twenty years ago I was a skinny schoolboy who hated everything to do with education. I was never going to be an academic and did barely enough to get a few basic qualifications. I left school at the earliest opportunity when I was sixteen, but I am getting slightly ahead of myself.

At school, I was bullied relentlessly. Principally this was by a fellow student, Terry Roberts. Terry was in the same year as me but he was bigger and clever enough not to start anything unless he was accompanied by his group of cronies. High School was not an enjoyable experience until I started to fill out during my last year. I took a sudden sprout and went from five foot four to nearly six feet in just over a year and put the muscle on to go with this new height. During my final year I also gained the confidence to take Roberts or Big T, as everyone called him on whether his mates were there or not. I ended up with detention on quite a few occasions following complaints from angry parents. What the hell, I was leaving anyway, what were they going to do, expel me!

Big T had a girl friend and I really did fancy her, but she would not give me the time of day. She was destined for University and or Art School, I never really knew at the time which. Her name was Deborah or Debbie McEwan and she was every boy's idea of a wet dream. She was to become my wife and how that came about sowed the seeds of my present predicament.

As I mentioned I left school at sixteen and started a trade apprenticeship. Learning how to make tea was my most arduous task during the first few weeks but because of my size and strength I soon moved on to learn the skills that were to be the basis of my present success.

I had a few girlfriends and soon learned how with a bit of boyish charm and flannel, how to sweep them off their feet and into bed. My first success was with a local girl and we were soon at it like rabbits. It had to stop when she started making noises about getting engaged. After that, I found I liked the local licensed beverages and it was in bars that I found a better outlet for my randy instincts, married women! From my selfish standpoint, there were many advantages. They knew what the score was and if they were willing to put it about, I was happy to receive it.

Looking back, I'm not proud of that period of my life as I fucked my way through the available talent locally until one night I received my comeuppance. Three or four husbands with lumps of two by two timber laid into one evening as I left a local hostelry and put me in hospital for two weeks. The single thing I remember from the beating was the angry face shoved in mine and an angry snarling voice saying. "Yew dinna fuck married wimmen in yer ane midden!" (back yard)

A lesson I learned well and after that I was careful to satisfy my sexual needs as far away from my home town as possible. I still concentrated on married women and it was a rare event for me to be lonely at the weekend. By the end of my final year as an apprentice, I had my own place, nothing much to speak of, but it was mine. It was a one bedroom flat in a tenement building and it was a great place for me to bring back my conquests for a quick shag. The only fly in the ointment was having to get up to take them home at a reasonable hour. Then I found a steady date, a married woman with her own car. I didn't even need to wine or dine her, all she wanted was sex and boy she wanted as much as I could provide. She would phone me when she had the chance for shag and if I was available, she would come over and we would fuck. She even had her own key as it saved her hanging around if I was later getting back.

This arrangement suited both of us, no emotional entanglements and sex on tap. Well it was until the day she turned up without calling ahead first and found me in bed with her daughter. That did proved the end of that arrangement, but it was time to move on in any case.

Events overtook that part of my life in the shape of a party held in the local rugby club where I captained the second team. The social side of rugby in those days was great and if the piss taking sometimes went too far, it never held any malice

I used to get the piss taken out of me regularly by my mates at the rugby club about never having a steady girlfriend and would just grin and say. "I'm waiting for the right lassie." They new I was screwing a married woman, but I was discreet enough not the let them see me with her. One of my friends from school who also played for the seconds and who knew about my admiration for Debbie, used to keep me advised of what she was up to. It seems that she did indeed attend Art School in Glasgow and was nearly finished her degree course. He also informed me that she was still attached to Big T and they looked likely to get married in the summer.

It was at a post match session at the Club that I got reacquainted with Debbie and Big T. It was fairly late on in the evening and we all had had a few beers in celebration of our win. The bar was decked out with Xmas decorations, complete with Tree and Trimmings, when in strolled Big T with Debbie in tow. Two other couples accompanied big T and Debbie and all were well oiled.

Debbie looked lovely as ever, if less than pleased to be in a pretty rough bar. It was definitely not the place to be dressed in a white miniskirt and tube top. The two girls that accompanied them were similarly dressed and not hard to look at either.

The bar in those days had no carpets and only rudimentary seating. It was after all a place to get pissed after match and sing songs that were less than complementary to the fair sex. I sensed that this could turn out to be an interesting evening.

I could see from Debbie's expression that she felt out of place and she wanted to leave and she kept whispering in Big T's ear until he finally said something that really pissed her off and she stormed out. Unfortunately her sense of direction was not that great and she stormed into the Men's room. Seconds later she ran out blushing with embarrassment pursued by two of our uglier front row forwards who must have been relieving themselves at the time. They were whistling and drawing everyone's attention to her error. Then they started a bawdy song about a young lady who strayed into the home team changing rooms one day and the rest of the club enjoying this rather snooty girls embarrassment joined in. Big T could do nothing to protect her and she was soon trapped in the centre of the room surrounded by a dozen rather drunk men singing and leering at her. She was almost in tears when I strolled over and escorted her to the bar.

I ordered her a brandy and gave it to her. She looked at me, then the brandy and rather snootily asked. "Do you always order a stranger a drink without asking her preference?"

I smiled at her and said. "Debbie McEwan, firstly, your not a stranger, we do know each other and secondly, Brandy is always sure to find favour, I've never had to send one back up to now."

I could she her looking up at me squinting her eyes in an effort to determine who I was.

"Try putting your glasses on." I suggested for she always wore spectacles when I last knew her.

"I never wear glasses anymore. It's all Contact Lenses nowadays and it's not their fault that I can't see a bloody thing in this light!"

She had a point, with all the coloured Xmas lighting strung around the main lights were switched off. I flexed my knees and dropped down until my nose was level with hers and let her see me up close without craning her neck. She suddenly realised who I was and started to laugh when she recognised me.

"It's wee Chris Bellows, well not so wee anymore." She said with a giggle.

We started to share some memories for school when Big T rumbled over and tried to pry her away from me. She reintroduced us and I could see the apprehension in his face when he sized me up. He was still about the same as when we last met, but I had continued to grow and fill out. As I watched him, I could see the apprehension on his face change to fear as he must have been remembering our final school encounter. I had beat him up and the two cronies with him. I can't remember why, it just seemed like a good idea at the time.

I put my arm round his shoulder and said quietly to him. "Now why don't you and your other friends just fuck off before there is any trouble. I will see that Debbie gets home safely. He was not happy with this and pulled away from me and back to Debbie. He demanded that she leave now with him.

Debbie smiled at him and said. "No, I'm not ready to go now. When I wanted to leave earlier, you were the one who demanded I stay. Now the boot's on the other foot, you want to go! Why don't you just leave? I'll talk to you tomorrow."

I could see the indecision on his face and when Debbie turned her back on him, he shrugged his shoulders and left with his friends in tow.

We continued to drink and chat until closing time. At one point someone started the Karaoke machine and Debbie went up to sing. She was terrific and she had to sing two more songs before they would let her leave the platform that we called a stage.

When the fresh air hit Debbie, the alcohol she had consumed caught up with her and my pal Andy and his wife Sarah practically carried her to my place. My place being the nearest. There was no way I was delivering her home in the state she was in. I didn't want to face her snooty mother.

I had done some work in her grandmother's house as a favour to a friend and had a run in with Debbie's mother on the very first day. I did not like her attitude to me. Considering I was doing her mother the favour, she could have at least treated me with a little respect. Instead I was ordered to remove my boots before entering her home. I was about to enter via the lino floored utility room at the back of the house and every surface from the door to the lounge where the ceiling needed re-plastering following a burst pipe was covered in dust sheets and protective sheeting.

I refused and told her that if I had to do that then she could find another plasterer. We had the classic standoff until an older lady, she subsequently turned out to be Debbie's gran came out to see what all the commotion was about. She shooed her daughter away and told me pay her no mind. She told later that her daughter sometimes forgets that her father was a riveter in the local shipyard who got lucky on the football pools. She was a tonic Debbie's gran and we soon got on like a house on fire. I flirted with her like mad and she loved it!

So no going back to her parents house then, so I got Sarah to phone Debbie's parents that she was staying over with her that night. Sarah and Debbie had also been classmates, so it was not that much of a stretch.

Getting Debbie to my place was one thing, but she was now getting her second wind and wanted to continue to party. Andy and Irene beat a hasty retreat as they had a baby sitter to relieve and I tried to get some coffee into Debbie. I guess that's when I discovered that once she has been drinking, Debbie's inhibitions will shed very quickly. To cut a long story short, it started with a kiss and ended with us naked in my bed. I also found out that night that Debbie was no virgin, but hell neither was I. She was near insatiable, we made love in the standard missionary position the first time and after a brief respite she mounted me and rode me like a demented jockey. The third time was only after she had spend ages using her mouth to get me erect enough to perform. I mean three times in an hour and a half was near my record performance.

When I surfaced the following morning she was still sound, so I went and had a shave and shower. After dressing, I made my way to the kitchen and started making breakfast. The aroma of bacon frying must have been too much for her as she awoke with a loud groan. I handed her the tray with her breakfast and juice and watched as she tucked in. Slowly she started to come around and with it the awareness that she was naked and when she realised who she spent the night with, she let out a shriek and screamed at me.

"Did you use protection when we fucked?"

"No. Didn't you?" I responded.

"Oh fuck, shit and hell's bells." She cried. "It's my fertile part of the cycle! What if I'm pregnant?"

"Well, I guess we'll have to face that when and if it happens." I said.

"You don't understand, T and I are supposed to get engaged this summer." She explained.

"So what's the problem then?" I asked.

"I won't foist another man's child on him, I love him too much to do that to him."

"You love him so.... much that you fucked me half to death last night. How does that work then? Anyway, you don't even know if you are or not, so I suggest you stop worrying until there's something to worry about."

She at least had the good grace to blush, thought about that a bit and then said with a smile. "You better not have made me pregnant because if you have I will have your balls."

I tried to talk some sense into her but there was no reasoning with her. She showered, dressed and left as quickly as she could.

To be continued

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