“I’m telling you, he’s messing around. Why else would he see me, turn around and almost run in the opposite direction. And there’s the girl who’s supposed to be his secretary. Hmmph, secretary my ass!”
“No, I don’t believe you, Trevor would never be unfaithful,” Liz cried. Her mascara now formed rivulets down her cheaks. “Trevor loves me. I know him… he wouldn’t...”
“Listen Liz; I wouldn’t tell unless I was absolutely sure. Tanya saw him too, with that hussy, Rose, on his arm. They were in Rossini’s last Tuesday evening, holding hands across a corner booth table.” Debbie had had her suspicions that Trevor was playing the field. On more than one occasion, he had made advances on her. She’d turn him down and he’d make excuses, saying it was just a joke and not to tell Liz, it would only upset her. Well, it had gone on long enough. He had been seen with Rose, his assistant / secretary too many times out with office hours for there to be a legitimate business requirement. And besides, Rose had been spending a lot of money on clothing, jewellery, hair and make-up purely to beat the blues. No, she’d been spending money to make herself look sophisticated and beautiful for her new lover, Trevor.
Liz was sobbing now. She too had suspected something for some time. Trevor would sometimes ring home to say he was going to be late due to emergency meetings with clients or whatnot. Twice, Liz had called back, only for the office security guard to tell her no one was left in the building; and twice she had told herself that the meeting must be at a client’s office.
And now her best friend, Debbie, confirmed her fears.
“Listen honey,” Debbie touched Liz’s arm softly, “why don’t we go for a drink somewhere and talk this over. We don’t want everyone in the office to know how your love-life is working out, do we?”
Liz shook her head, “You’re right Debs, this isn’t a good place right now. Let’s go to O’Neill’s and find a quiet corner.”
The girls made their excuses and left the office early. Taking a taxi, they arrived at O’Neill’s on the High Street.
“Perhaps we should go someplace else,” Liz told Debbie. There was a loud noise coming from inside the bar. A mixture of Irish folk music and drunken laughter filled the air.
“Come on girl, you need to lighten up before you face that bastard,” Debbie coaxed.
They entered the bar, arm in arm. After ordering a couple of beers, they found a small table at the rear of the bar. It was dark and smoky. Almost everyone had a cigarette in hand or mouth and the tables were full of part-filled or empty beer glasses. The folk group played traditional Irish songs, new to Liz. Debbie’s parents were Irish, County Cork, and she had grown up with Irish folk music. She sung along to one or two songs during Liz’s quiet moments.
Liz decided to powder her nose. On return from the restroom, she found Debbie talking with two men. They looked Irish dressed in black half-length jackets and flat caps. Liz could make out their thick Irish accents as she joined Debbie.
“This is Tommy and Turlough,” Debbie introduced the men. “Tommy and Turlough have just arrived in town and are looking for someone to show them where they can see all of the wonderful sights they’ve read about in the glossy brochures,” Debbie continued.
Liz wasn’t really interested. She just wanted to go home and cry herself to sleep. She knew Trevor wouldn’t be home until late tomorrow night; he was out of town on a business trip to Glasgow, and she knew Rose was travelling with him in her official capacity as his personal assistant ‘in more ways than one,’ she thought.
Debbie kept on to Liz to join her and show these two fine gentlemen some local hospitality. Liz eventually agreed when Turlough began to flicker his eyelids and telling funny one-liner jokes. They drank up and left O’Neill’s Irish Bar.
The four found themselves at the City Park. The sun was just about to set; it had been a beautiful day, but a little cool. Liz’s long nipples were pressing hard against her thin cotton dress; she didn’t expect to be walking through a park that evening, and travelling to and from work in a cab she rarely wore a coat, even in the colder winter months, preferring lighter jackets to keep out any chilly breezes.
Turlough liked what he saw. Liz was his type of woman; tall, about 5’7” with long shoulder-length brunette hair and brown eyes that sparkled. Her face was fresh looking with just a hint of make-up. Her clothes looked expensive, knee-length blue dress and patent heals. He wasn’t sure if Liz wore stockings or if her legs were tanned. And her breasts… well, Turlough just wanted to reach out and take hold of Liz’s nipples that were standing erect, battling with her dress.
Debbie was a fine lady too. She was an inch or two shorted than Liz and she too had similar taste in fashion. Her dark fawn hair and blue eyes were as sweet as an angel’s and her smile made Tommy feel like he needed to smile too. Debbie’s figure was slightly bigger than Liz and her breasts were markedly heavier. She was definitely Tommy’s type.
They sat by a flowerbed and the Irish lads told the girls stories of Ireland. The girls listened with intent and soon, before they realised, the sun had set and dusk was almost converted into night.
Liz looked at her watch, “Jeez, the time. I’d better be off,” she told the others.
“I’ll walk you home,” Turlough insisted.
“No, no, thanks all the same, but I’ll catch a taxi.”
Turlough and Liz left Debbie talking on the bench. Liz knew that her friend wanted some privacy with Tommy. Her best friend liked the company of men and Debbie would get stressed out if she went without for more than a week.
Turlough saw that Tommy was in with a chance with Debbie. He gave Tommy a wink as he stood and followed Liz through the park.
“Really, I’m all right, I’ll get a taxi,” Liz insisted, but not hard enough. Turlough took her arm and walked with Liz. As they left the park, Turlough hailed a taxi and Liz hopped in. ‘Oh, what the hell,’ she said to herself as she looked Turlough in the eye, as she sat in the back of the taxi.
“Come on then,” she waved as she slid across the seat.
The apartment door burst open. Turlough had his arm around Liz’s waist, his mouth planted firmly on her’s. They kissed passionately as they stumbled across the hall and into the lounge. Turlough fell backwards onto the sofa, Liz on top. They giggled and continued to kiss.
‘What’s good for the goose…’ Liz had thought as she had offered Turlough a coffee on the doorstep. He had accepted without any hesitation and now here they were, kissing on her sofa, his hands exploring her ass as she tried to lift his shirt out of his trousers.
Minutes later, Turlough had her nipples in his mouth. Her 34B breasts were large enough for Turlough, but her nipples were the biggest he’d seen, apart from one of two of those of porno stars on the TV.
Liz loved having her nipples kissed. It made her juice up and the excitement of this stranger groping her body made her feel both guilty and horny. She could feel Turlough’s manhood swell under her as she stroked her fingers through his hairy chest.
Turlough’s hands had drifted down to Liz’s silk panties. He placed his thumbs under the elastic and pushed the cotton material down past Liz’s thighs and calves. Liz lifted each leg to free herself from her panties.
She had never cheated on Trevor and she had only been with two men in her entire thirty-four years. But strangely, she felt no guilt. She found herself wanting to submit to this soft-spoken Irishman. She reached under herself and undid Turlough’s trousers. He lifted himself, allowing Liz to slide the material down, exposing a hard cock of at least 8” in length. She knelt over him and slowly lowered herself onto his cock.
Turlough watched as Liz eased herself onto him. Her pussy, neatly trimmed, swallowed his cock, inch by inch, until her clitoris rubbed itself against his pubic hair. It didn’t take much for them both to reach orgasm. Liz felt Turlough’s cock harden even more as it began to twitch. She knew he was about to cum, so she considered lifting herself, allowing him to spray his semen over her stomach. But she just couldn’t get off him.
Turlough massaged Liz’s breasts as she ground hard against him. His cock deep inside her, he felt her pussy tighten around his shaft as she moaned, flinging her head back as she came to a thundering climax. Liz collapsed on top of Turlough and kissed him.
After several minutes, kissing and cuddling, Liz began to feel guilt set in. She wanted to be alone and asked Turlough to leave.
That night as she lay in bed, Liz trembled as she recalled the evening’s events. It was the first time she’d cheated on Trevor. Her guilt was too much and she felt the need to confess to her husband. As she lifted the receiver, she thought about what Trevor might be doing right now, where he was and with whom. She replaced the receiver and switched out the bedside lamp. The guilty feelings subsided, and she could see Turlough’s face, hear his soft Irish accent, and feel his cock inside her as she lightly touched her clitoris. Liz closed her eyes and decided that two could play Trevor’s game.