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Freebie - 3
by Lord John Thomas (lord_john_thomas@hotmail.com)

***

The continuing story of a wife keeping her husband out 
of jail. (MMF, wife-reluc, prost)

***

All of my stories include descriptions of sex scenes 
that could cause offence to some people. Please do not 
read this story if you are offended by perverse sexual 
material, or if you are under the legal age of consent 
for your own country. These stories are pure fiction 
and are not based on anyone living or deceased.

***

PART 3


As this is now part three of my tale, I'm assuming 
you've read parts one and two, so you know how I got 
into the situation I find myself in at the moment. 

So some time later, maybe half an hour or so, I'm still 
lying face down on my bed sobbing, when I hear Gerry's 
voice as he stood in the doorway to my bedroom, "Come-
on Mary. You know I didn't mean it."

I lay there trying to totally ignore him. I could sense 
he was moving closer to the bed, "Please babe. I'm 
sorry. I was angry, and I just lashed out without 
thinking."

He moved in closer still and I felt his hand resting on 
my back. He slowly moved it around in a gentle manner 
as he'd done many times in the past; stroking my 
shoulders, I guess he thought relieving the tension. 
This was nearly always his approach when he wanted to 
say sorry after we'd had some kind of fight.

I lay there for maybe fifteen minutes as he sat on the 
edge of the bed; and whilst his hand attempted to soak 
away my stress, he would occasionally speak soft words 
of apology to try to explain away his stupid behaviour. 
I have to admit; I was on the point of talking to him, 
even if only to give him a mouthful of abuse. But 
before I'd opened my mouth, there was a sound from 
downstairs, "KNOCK KNOCK. KNOCK KNOCK."

It was someone at our front door, and as I felt Gerry 
getting to his feet he said, "I'll go and see who it 
is."

I turned on my side and in an angry voice snapped, "I 
don't care who it is, tell them to clear off!"

I listened carefully and as I heard the door downstairs 
opening, I then heard Gerry say, "Oh, it's you."

Then I heard the reply, and even at this distance I 
could recognise Peter's voice.

"I've just come around to make sure Mary is alright."

"Yes she is. And she doesn't want to see anyone. So you 
can clear off and tell Mr Spencer we don't want him to 
call either."

"I've just come from Graham's office. There were two of 
his cronies with him, and they were bragging about 
fleecing you, and taking advantage of your wife. I just 
want to make sure she's ok."

"I've already told you. She's ok, so just go away and 
leave us alone."

"Ok. I don't want to interfere if I'm not needed. But 
please tell Mary, if she wants anything, advice, 
someone to talk to, or anything at all, she can call me 
day or night."

I didn't know at the time, Peter had handed Gerry his 
card at this moment, all I heard was a short pause 
before the front door slammed shut with a loud, "BANG!"

All the time I'd been listening to Peter's voice, it 
had brought back such a warm feeling inside, and now as 
I heard the noise of the door being shut in his face, I 
felt instantly angry. I leapt from the bed and dashed 
to the front window, where I could see Peter closing 
our front gate and walking across the road to his car. 
I dashed onto the landing and down the stairs. As I was 
descending, Gerry had been about to start to come up, 
"What's wrong?"

"Get out of my way you stupid idiot."

His face as I yelled at him changed from a look of 
concern to one of anger, but before I'd reached the 
bottom step he'd stepped back off the stairs and moved 
clear of my pathway to the door. I wrenched on the 
front door handle and as I swung the door open called 
out as loud as I could muster, "PETER!"

He was at the other side of the road, and just on the 
point of getting into his car. He stopped and as he 
stood he looked back across to where I stood in the 
doorway.

I beckoned with my hand and called, not quite so 
loudly, but still shouting to make myself heard. 
"Please. Come back, I want to talk to you."

He closed his car door and began to walk back towards 
where I stood. I turned around and looked back at Gerry 
and gave him a scowl that didn't needs words to show 
its meaning. He in turn, looking somewhat confused, 
asked, "What? All I did was tell him to fuck-off. Like 
you told me to."

"Never mind what I said; the way I feel right now, I'd 
rather talk to him than you."

"Well fuck you then."

And with that Gerry stomped off and went into the 
living room.

I waited for Peter to arrive at the door and then said, 
"Come on in. I'm sorry my husband was so rude to you."

As he walked past me and made his way towards our front 
room he replied, "That's alright; I guess he was 
feeling more than a little angry after being cheated 
like that."

By now I was following him into the room and Gerry was 
again seated in his chair next to the TV, and again 
he'd got a can of beer in his hand. I was still angry 
with him, but now I was also burning with curiosity to 
know what Peter meant by his remark about Gerry being 
cheated.

After asking Peter to sit down I sat myself in the 
chair opposite both Peter and Gerry, and then I asked, 
"Cheated? What do you mean?"

Peter looked across to Gerry, and then said cautiously, 
"I'm not sure if I've spoken out of turn."

Then he looked at Gerry, "Doesn't she know?"

Before Gerry could answer I again gave him a scowl as I 
asked, "Know what? What the hell's going on?"

Gerry looked sheepishly in my direction as he said, 
"It's nothing. I was going to tell you later."

Peter now looked uncomfortable as he said, "Look I 
didn't come here to cause trouble; do you want me to 
go?"

I snapped my reply back, "NO!"

It came out in a lot angrier tone than I'd wanted to 
use to my guest, so I instantly changed my tone of 
voice, "Its not you I'm angry with. Once this rat has 
explained what he's been up to, I might need your 
shoulder to cry on."

And then I turned my head and as I pointedly glared at 
Gerry I said, "Well? What's all this about you being 
cheated?"

Gerry then went on to tell me about the negotiations 
that had led up to the session with the two men, of 
course, you the reader already know what had taken 
place. And then Gerry finished his tale with a classic 
male excuse, "And when you came down after those men 
had left, I was so angry with what they'd done to you, 
and how they'd only paid two hundred measly quid, I 
just lashed out at the first person I saw. I didn't 
mean to call you what I did, but I guess I just used 
the words they'd fed me earlier."

Peter looked quite confused, "My god man, are you 
saying you not only persuaded your wife into going with 
two men to earn you money, but then hurled abuse at her 
once she'd done your bidding?"

Gerry had been looking quite guilty, but on hearing 
this rebuke, he turned instantly angry, "You fucking 
butt out. She's my wife and what goes on between us is 
nothing to do with you."

I was already angry, so my flare-up was instant; I 
sprang to my feet and as I knocked the can of beer from 
his hand I blurted out, "You drunken shit. I might be 
your wife now, but if you keep up this behaviour, I've 
a good mind to let your dirty minded boss send you to 
fucking jail. And don't think I'll be here waiting for 
you when you come out."

This obviously wasn't the kind of reaction Gerry 
expected as he sat himself up and took hold of my hands 
he begged, "Hey Mary. I didn't mean anything. Come-on 
girl you know I love you. I just wanted to sort things 
out without, you know, outsiders interfering."

"Interfering? I invited Peter in because I can't talk 
to you these days. One minute you're acting like my 
pimp, and the next like a bloody holy inquisitor. If 
you can't say anything civilised, keep your mouth shut 
until Peter and I have finished talking."

"Please Mary, just calm down."

"I am calm, but you butt out until I tell you. 
Otherwise I promise I will see you go to prison."

He looked genuinely scared, and I knew my words had 
really struck home. He pulled himself back into his 
chair, never even answered, but gestured that his lips 
were sealed.

I turned to Peter, "Yes, that's exactly what he did. He 
asked me to have sex with those men because they were 
friends of Graham, and because he said we'd get two 
thousand pounds. I wouldn't have done it for the money 
alone, but I knew that Graham could still get Gerry in 
trouble with the police. And then when I came down 
after doing what he asked me to do, he called me... 
well you can guess what he called me, exactly what 
those dirty sods had told him to call me."

Gerry tried to explain himself, "Please Mary, let me 
just explain."

"Don't bother."

Then Peter said, "Look I know I'm an outsider here, and 
if you tell me I'm not in a position to say anything, 
then I'll understand."

I interrupted, "No please. That was why I called you 
back in; I need someone from the outside, just to know 
I'm not going totally insane."

"Ok for what its worth, this is my opinion."

"Gerry messed-up at work. And don't get me wrong, we 
all make mistakes, its just some come home to roost 
with a lot heavier consequences than we expect."

He paused here, and then turning to me continued, "Well 
that said, you were faced with a choice of seeing him 
go to jail, or doing something you wouldn't have 
otherwise considered. The incident at the night club 
could have netted you both a sum of money you hadn't at 
that point even dreamed of accruing. Now this time it 
was you who, dare I say it, screwed up. I know you did 
eventually agree to do the business, but it was after 
all, your delay, that caused the loss of what could 
have been a tidy sum of money. And then just to prove 
how fucked up your head was, you go and fuck the guy 
for free."

"But that's all water under the bridge now. But what 
you have to understand, in Gerry's mind, you've already 
shown him you have the potential for earning money. And 
let's not pretend, you've also demonstrated you don't 
exactly dislike the work."

I think as he'd said this he must have seen the look on 
my face.

"Hey don't look so offended, I'm not criticising. Now 
to today, Gerry isn't used to dealing with sharks like 
those two."

He was still looking directly at me when he asked, "And 
be honest, if they'd paid the two grand you'd expected; 
you'd both be sitting down now trying to work out how 
to line up your next punter."

"Don't look so disappointed my dear. Its human nature. 
You've found something you've got a real talent for, 
and it pays well. Well it should do."

He now looked back towards Gerry, "Now Gerry don't get 
me wrong lad. You're a good sort, and I know you mean 
well. But you aren't dealing with this situation as it 
should be dealt with."

Gerry went to speak, but I held my hand up indicating 
he should let Peter finish. I think I'd taken more 
criticism from Peter than I'd expected, and just wanted 
to let Gerry have a bit too even things up.

Peter continued, "You see lad, your first priority 
should be to get Graham off your back."

"But..."

I interrupted Gerry before he'd hardly began to but in, 
"Gerry! Let him finish!"

"As I was saying, we need to get some kind of document 
signed by Graham, which once signed, will prevent him 
from wielding this police matter over your head. I know 
it will involve Mary here doing the business again, but 
if she tells me her preferences, I'm sure I can guide 
Graham's mind into a direction where he thinks he's got 
her squirming, when in reality, she can just do what-
ever, and then you'll be free of him."

Gerry couldn't restrain himself, "Like what?"

"I don't know yet, I need to talk to Mary to see what 
she finds the most acceptable. But I'm not trying to 
pretend he'll go for anything that doesn't involve her 
having sex with someone."

"So why should you be the one to do the deal?"

"I'm not saying I should. That's for Mary to decide. 
But I will say this, I think I've got more experience 
in negotiations than you, and I for one wouldn't let 
any deal be influenced by getting two tickets to a 
football match."

Peter could see my look of curiosity, but Gerry just 
sat there silent. Then Peter said, "Oh I see. That's 
something else you didn't mention?"

I snapped at Gerry, "Come on, what's all this about 
ticket to the footy?"

"Its nothing, they just threw them in. It didn't make 
any difference to what happened."

Peter said, "So Larry and James were just shooting 
their mouths off?"

This I took to be the names of the two men who'd been 
with me this morning; not exactly the right protocol to 
find out a man's name after the event. But I guess in 
my new profession, this was something I'd have to get 
used to; that is, if I even find out their names at 
all.

I turned to Peter, "Ok being as you're the one stirring 
the shit pile, why don't you tell me about these bloody 
tickets?"

"I'm not trying to stir anything up. It was just when I 
met Graham. Larry and James were going on about Gerry 
as if he was some kind of moron. They say he point 
blank refused to let them double fuck you for two 
hundred quid, and then almost bit their hands off when 
they threw in two tickets to the game. The irony was, 
the tickets were freebies they'd been given by the 
security firm that just re-furbished the warehouse 
security cameras. And those were the very same security 
cameras that caught Gerry; getting you into this mess 
in the first place."

I looked across at Gerry as I said sympathetically, 
"That's about typical for you lately; if it wasn't for 
shit luck, you'd have no luck at all."

I think this remark was taken as I intended it, and 
Gerry said in an apologetic tone, "It wasn't like that 
honest. I really did think you'd kick-up a fuss as soon 
as they both started playing around with you at the 
same time."

"It's ok. I guess I should have told you before, just 
how far that perverted sod of a boss of yours had 
already pushed me."

And then I looked across at Peter, "And for all his 
protective talk, he's no angel either."

Peter looked a little defensive as he came back with, 
"That's not fair. I've never forced you into anything."

"No, but you didn't miss out on your chance to take 
advantage of me, no matter which hole was vacant."

Gerry looked surprised, "What? He's fucked your arse as 
well?"

"Hey don't look so shocked. Ass fucking is almost as 
common as a pussy fuck these days. And ask her, she 
wasn't forced."

Gerry looked quite sad as he asked, "Am I the only man 
in this town who hasn't fucked your arse?"

Peter could see my distaste at this kind of comment, 
and he answered before I got chance to speak, "See lad, 
that's the kind of remark that kills the goose that 
lays the golden egg. She's done nothing wrong, and you 
should be supporting her, and making her feel good 
about her performance. Now come on tell her all that 
stuff about how much you love her, and less of this 
silly jealousy. If old Graham got one thing right; it 
was what he told you the other night."

Gerry asked, "What was that?"

"That little girl has got more cunt than you or any 
other one man can satisfy."

On hearing this crude remark once again, I instantly 
covered my face with my hands as I coloured up bright 
red.

"No Mary. Don't take that as an insult. You're good. In 
fact I'll repeat what I said the other night, you fuck 
better than anyone I've ever been with; and that I can 
tell you, is no short list. Be proud of that pussy, if 
it's managed properly, Gerry can quit work, and both of 
you could make enough money in the next eight to ten 
years for you both to retire on a comfortable pension."

I couldn't be sure I understood what he was actually 
saying, and I guess Gerry was having the same problem. 
But he asked the first question, "Are you saying she 
should become a prostitute?"

"What do you mean become one? She already is. What did 
you think those two men paid you two hundred quid for."

Gerry again flared up, "You filthy sod."

He sprang to his feet and launched himself at Peter, 
who rose to intercept him, and being a far bigger 
build, just took hold of his wrists and restrained him 
as Gerry carried on slagging him off.

I got to my feet and took hold of one of Gerry's arms, 
"Please Gerry. Stop it. I'm sure he wasn't trying to 
insult me."

Gerry shook his wrists free and slumped back into his 
chair, "Fucking typical. I say something in anger, and 
I'm the anti-Christ. He calls you a hooker in cold 
blood, and you say its ok."

"But he's right. I am a hooker. A prostitute. A whore. 
It doesn't matter which word you use, I let those men 
do it to me for money."

Peter now had a big beaming smile on his face, "Good 
girl. Now you Gerry; if you can accept it, and not get 
upset, then think of what this means."

Gerry reluctantly asked, "I don't get it."

"Those men came here today prepared to pay up to five 
grand. They'd told Graham what they wanted to do, and 
he didn't think she'd go that far for less than that 
amount, if at all. But in the event, they got what they 
wanted, and they were only here for just..."

He shrugged his shoulders, then continued, "I don't 
know; how long were they upstairs with her?"

Gerry replied, "About twenty minutes at most."

"The pair of them were cock-a-hoop about getting to do 
the double. They'd only thought it would be an arse 
fuck; one at a time."

"Ok so they conned me, how was I to know what had been 
said before they got here?"

"That's my point; not only are you not in the right 
circles to know who will pay what amount, but you don't 
even know the value of the goods you're selling."

I spoke up, feeling more than a little used in their 
conversation, "So that's all I am? Something to be sold 
to the highest bidder."

"It was your choice. Nobody was holding a gun to your 
head, or a knife to your throat. It wasn't even Graham 
using his blackmail to back you into a corner."

He paused for a second and then broke the silence, 
"Don't feel bad about it. It's done, and you're none 
the worse for it. But think, you could have been five 
grand richer. Never mind about other people's opinions, 
it's yours, and you know how to use it; if you want to 
make a living from it, then that's your decision."

"So what are you saying, she should do this all the 
time, and I don't even need to go to work?"

"I'm not saying she should. But I'm saying if she wants 
to, then she has the natural talent. And if she gets 
handled properly, she'll only need to do it until she's 
around thirty, and by then you'll have so much money 
invested, neither of you will need to work for the rest 
of your lives."

"Bull-shit."

"I'm not kidding you. But it will only workout that way 
if you spend carefully, and invest every spare penny. 
It has to be managed and planned."

"Ah. Now I get it. She fucks all your mates, we get a 
pittance to live on, and you fuck-off with all the 
money. Fuck you! Do I look that stupid?"

"Well from where I'm sitting, if you're not stupid, 
you're a good actor."

Gerry again sprang to his feet, and Peter again 
countered him, holding him as they danced around the 
room.

"Pack it up. It's my life you pair are talking about. 
Don't I get to have an opinion?"

As Gerry begrudgingly returned to his seat I said, 
"It's no good Peter; I couldn't do that for a living."

"Please Mary. Think about it. If I'd arranged those men 
this morning, you'd now have earned Gerry's normal 
weekly wage, and been able to put four-thousand four-
hundred pounds into a high interest no tax investment 
account. And it took you twenty minutes! If I only find 
you say five or ten tricks a week, you'll be on the 
same kind of money as a premiere league footballer. Now 
I'm sure that's putting it in terms even Gerry can 
understand."

I thought that remark would again antagonise Gerry, but 
when I looked across to where he was sitting, it 
clearly hadn't; I think the penny had now dropped, and 
Peter's ideas must have sunk in, because instead of 
anger, there was an excited enthusiasm in his voice, 
"Are you sure she could earn that kind of money?"

"Maybe not for the first few months, but it one of 
those things, the newer she is and the less people know 
about her, the juicer the pretence, and the higher the 
price per session. But of course, if not many people 
know about her, then she won't get many customers. Then 
come the glory days, when she gets a hot reputation, 
and everyone wants to have a slice of the action; 
during that time the price is high, and I can get as 
many as she's willing to take. That's where she can 
make the bulk of her money. But we have to be careful 
how we play that; otherwise she'll loose the fresh 
appeal. Once that happens it's up to you whether you 
want to call it quits, or just move into another part 
of the market to boost your bank balance before calling 
it a day."

Gerry was on the edge of his seat listening intently, 
now obviously taken by the idea, and then he asked, 
"How come you think you know so much about this kind of 
thing?"

"I'm in the hiring end of advertising. And in our 
business, the money to be earned by the, so called 
actors and actresses is good. But most runs of an 
advert are not repeated. I know there have been some 
that keep using the same old face, but they're the 
exception. Usually we don't want any particular face to 
become associated with the product, so it's very much a 
one shoot and goodbye. If they're lucky we'll use the 
same face again for a few more different customers' 
lines, but very soon the work dries up. With the men I 
don't even get involved, and never see most of them 
again. But a girl whose face is appearing regularly on 
TV, even if it is only five seconds of loading a 
dishwasher or selling insurance; she has a short but 
lucrative earning window. 

"And as I say, by the time their adverts are out in the 
public eye, most of them are struggling to find work. I 
can always find a customer to keep them in the luxury 
to which they've become accustomed. And once their 
glory days run out, if they still want work, there is 
lots of low-end porn. So being as I said to Mary, 'it's 
no good her pretending she's something she's not'. Then 
neither will I, as far as these girls are concerned, 
I'm their pimp."

"How many girls do you look after?"

"Difficult to put a number on. There's about ten or 
fifteen high-end girls, ones whose adverts are still in 
peoples minds. About twenty or so who get the odd good 
earner, but rely mostly on porno, either film or club 
acts. Then I've got twenty girls in a block of flats, 
but they're just straight pay-for-fuck at fifty quid a 
go."

"So this is your real job, and that rubbish about 
advertising is just a cover?"

"No, this is the sideline. Call it a hobby."

"But one that pays good money?"

"I'm not short of a bob or two, but then I wouldn't be 
destitute if I only had my advertising, that's good for 
seventy-five grand a year. So like I said, this is just 
something I enjoy, that also pays well."

"So if I let you look after Mary, what's your cut?"

"I'm not sure how much you know about running whores, 
but I think you'll probably know the normal split 
doesn't favour the girl."

"So what's normal?"

"The fifty quid a go girls get a fiver a fuck."

"So you take forty-five quid for doing nothing?"

"Not nothing. They get a place to operate from, with 
built-in security. If they could do better elsewhere, 
they'd leave."

"Well don't think you're getting that cut from my 
wife."

I broke up their cosy chat, "I think you're both 
getting the cart before the horse."

As they turned and looked quizzically, I continued, 
"I'm not doing it."

Peter added, "She's right, we haven't reached the point 
where we discus who gets what cut. Lets just workout 
how to get Graham off your backs. All the rest can 
wait."

Gerry responded first, "Have you any ideas on that 
score?"

He asked looking at Peter. But before Peter replied, I 
spoke up, "I'm wondering if our best idea would be to 
just find ourselves a solicitor."

Peter took up the conversation, "I can see why you 
would say that, and of course, it is your choice. After 
all you're the driver, and even if Gerry is your 
husband, in this respect, we're both passengers along 
for the ride. So if that's what you want to do its fine 
by me, and I won't try to talk you out of it. But 
before you go off half cocked, let me just run through 
what you'd be letting yourself into."

I interrupted, "Oh I know all that stuff about being 
dragged through the courts and our friends and family 
finding out. But at least it would be over one way or 
the other."

Gerry butted in, "That's the problem. It might be over 
for you, but think about me. At best, like you just 
said everyone will know, I'll loose my job and have 
difficulty finding another, and even if they don't send 
me down it'll be a hefty fine. But if it goes the other 
way, and you've already said about the way my lucks 
running, they'll send me down for twenty to thirty 
years."

Peter again continued, "You're both right to some 
extent, but let me just explain something else. You go 
to a solicitor first; he then has to employ a 
barrister. Now to get a good brief, costs real money. 
I'd guess if you want to keep Gerry out of prison, 
you'd be paying the best part of thirty grand just for 
the legal team. From what Graham says, the total cost 
of the false insurance claims are very substantial, so 
the fine won't be lower than ten grand, and could be a 
lot higher. So unless you have rich relatives or money 
stashed away I don't know about, I can only think of 
one way you can get that kind of money. But there is 
another way. We could just persuade Graham to sign a 
disclaimer."

I answered, "No. I know you think you have all the 
answers, but blackmailers don't give up. And all that 
stuff about legal costs is just you trying to frighten 
me. I know we could get free legal aid, that way it 
won't cost a penny."

Peter laughed, "Ha, ha, ha, legal aid! How do you know 
so much about these matters?"

"I've seen programs on TV."

"Well unlike TV, blackmailers are just people who think 
they've got the upper hand, you just need to outwit 
them. And yes you can get legal aid, but I guarantee if 
you go down that route, Gerry will be middle-aged 
before you see him again. But I've said my piece. And 
if that's your choice, it's nothing to do with me. If 
you have a change of heart, Gerry's got my card."

At that he rose to his feet, but before he'd moved 
Gerry said, "Hey, don't go just yet."

"I'm sorry lad, but it's not my place to push your 
little lady into a life she isn't happy with."

"But you said we could get Mr. Spencer off our backs 
another way; what did you mean?"

Still standing he replied, "Mary knows what Graham's 
first proposal was."

With that he looked at me.

I blushed, but said nothing. Gerry said, "Well come on, 
am I the only one who doesn't know what's going on?"

"But you do lad, she refused him the first time. And 
then he brought you into the game to win her around."

"What, not that thing about modelling the knickers from 
your catalogue?"

"That was it."

"For fucks sake Mary. You'd send me to prison, rather 
than flash your fanny in his kinky knickers."

"You don't understand. I've done that and more already, 
and we're still no nearer getting your situation over 
with. What ever I do that man will just keep asking for 
more and more."

At this point I actually broke down and began to sob. 
Not hysterically, but I just felt so sad and helpless, 
as if I was on a never ending spiral downwards. Now you 
might think Gerry would be the one to sit alongside me, 
wrap his arm around my shoulder and say, "Come-on love. 
I know it's been hard for you. But I promise I'll make 
sure that bastard doesn't control you again."

But no, it was Peter whose neck I now buried my head 
into and sobbed.


Gerry asked, "So what's your plan to get Mr. Spencer 
off our backs?"

Peter replied in a soft voice, "Not now lad. Let her 
have a little cry. Once she's got it out of her system, 
they'll be plenty time to discuss tactics."

So that was it, Gerry sat there silently as I sobbed on 
the chest of what to all intents was a perfect 
stranger. How long we would have stopped there like 
that I'm not sure, but after about ten minutes the 
phone started ringing, and Gerry got up and answered 
it. 

"Hello."

"Ah Gerry lad."

"Oh. Hi Mr. Spencer."

"I was just calling to make sure you were in. I'm 
coming around to see you about tonight."

"Tonight? Why what's happening tonight?"

"I'm going to meet some friends, and I want your little 
lady to accompany me. I need to give her the details, 
and make sure she's ready for the hairdresser and 
beautician when they arrive later. Anyway, I'll be 
there in about thirty minutes and I'll explain 
everything."

We of course, didn't hear Graham's end of the 
conversation, but even while he was on the phone, I'd 
sat up and was waiting to find out what Graham wanted. 
So as soon as he'd put the phone down, I asked, "What's 
he on about tonight?"

"He's coming around now, to tell you all about it."

"About what?"

"He wants you to go with him tonight to meet some of 
his friends, and he's arranged for a hairdresser and 
beautician to come here this afternoon."

"Oh my god!"

And as I let out my cry of desperation I again started 
to sob as I buried my head back into Peter's chest.

He gently eased me from his chest, and using one hand 
to wipe the hair from my tear soaked face, he said 
softly, "Come on. Let's not let him get the upper hand. 
We haven't got long, have you got a PC."

Gerry answered, "Yes, and it's got the latest graphics 
card, so it can handle just about any of the latest 
games."

"So long as you've got word or some other kind of word 
processor, I don't think we've got time for games."

I looked up at Peter and through my tears mumbled, 
"What are you going to do?"

He helped me to my feet and we followed Gerry into the 
back room, by the time we got there, he had already 
fired up the PC. As we waited for it to boot, Peter 
said to me, "Now you can't let Graham know I'm 
involved. And he already knows Gerry's capabilities, so 
when he arrives, this will all have been your idea. Ok, 
just give me a few minutes, and I'll see what I can 
come up with."

Gerry and I stood silently behind Peter as he tapped 
away on the keyboard. After a few minutes, he'd 
finished the document, and the printer burst into life. 
This was the text he'd written.

---

To whom it may concern:

I G.W. Spencer do affirm that G. Kendal, being my 
employee was working under my instructions in the 
testing of a comprehensive security installation. This 
work involved a simulation of warehouse stock damage. 
Looting or, and stealing of the same. Filling in false 
insurance claim forms for the same. Distribution of the 
same amongst other employees. And loading of the same 
stolen goods into his own private transport.

Therefore any recorded material, audio or video, on 
whatever format, purporting to show this kind of 
activity, is not to be taken as evidence of any crime 
or misdemeanour. 

Mr. G. Kendal, is a trusted employee, who has my full 
confidence.

I am sorry that he has decided to move on to a new 
position with another company, but I wish him well in 
his new endeavour, and can assure any new employer that 
he will be getting a first class worker who can be 
trusted implicitly.

G.W. Spencer

---

As he handed the paper to me he said, "Right now once 
that's signed by Graham, put it somewhere safe until 
you see me, and I'll get my legal boys to ratify it, 
and file it away."

I could feel such an overwhelming surge of appreciation 
building as I read the words and began to think this 
would maybe secure my freedom. And as Peter handed the 
paper to me, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and 
smothered him with kisses. As I kissed like a silly 
child showing gratitude for a Christmas present, I 
could feel Peter's hands gradually applying more 
pressure, trying to prise me from himself. Then when he 
managed to get his face out of reach of mine, he said, 
"Come-on. I appreciate your gratitude, but we really 
haven't got time for this."

As I realised how silly my behaviour was, I blushed and 
as I backed away, said shyly, "Sorry."

"That's ok, and maybe some time soon, if you still feel 
that way, you can show me properly. But right now, you 
have to decide what you want to offer Graham to get him 
to sign, and how we can manoeuvre him into doing what 
you want. Now our starting point has to be the two 
options he has already given you, but that's not to say 
he'll go for them now."

Gerry asked, "Two options, I thought there was only 
one."

"Well I'm afraid that before he involved you, he'd 
already been trying to get your little lady to come 
across with her goodies, still using your prison 
stretch as the stick. But your little lady refused him, 
and told him to get lost. It was then he threatened you 
directly, and it was you who persuaded her to 
cooperate."

"So if posing in your sexy knickers was one option, 
what was the other?"

"He said if she'd fuck both him and me; that would be 
debt paid."

Gerry's face was at first a scowl, and then suddenly it 
changed into a big smile, "That's it!"
 
"What's it?"

"Don't you see? She's already let you and Graham do it 
the other night, remember you phoned me from that hotel 
room."

"It's not something I'm likely to forget. But that's 
been and gone. If you'd had the sense to write out 
something before then, he'd have signed that night to 
get her to fuck. But now, it's water under the bridge."

"I see, so either she poses in your stuff, or you get 
to fuck her again. Seems like you win all around."

"Stop getting distracted from who your real threat is. 
If you don't decide on your strategy soon, it will be 
too late. If he knows I'm helping you, he won't go for 
it at all."

I could see Peter was right, "Come on Gerry, it doesn't 
matter if he gets something out of it. All we want is 
to get that prison threat lifted. And as far as I'm 
concerned, as soon as possible."

"Ok, but why don't you just do the modelling of his 
undies, at least that way it doesn't involve having sex 
with anyone?"

"No, but Graham wanted me to do ten different sessions 
of that. And even if I do one every night, that still 
means ten days of being under his threat."

"So are you saying you want Mr Spencer and this guy to 
fuck you again?"

"If you want to put it that way; then yes. I'd rather 
have them do it and get it over with, and then we can 
get back to our normal life."

At this point Peter spoke up, "I think she's got a 
point Gerry, Graham wouldn't sign anything until she's 
done all ten parties, and until then, he can keep 
coming back and manipulating her into doing other 
things."

"You're biased. All you want is to get back into her 
knickers."

"Well we're running out of time, if I don't move my car 
soon, he'll be here and then this scam won't work 
whichever route we follow. Hang on."

He paused for a split second, "He's just been talking 
with those two earlier, and so I'll bet he's all fired-
up and wanting to try you out with a double fuck."

Gerry burst out, "Well he's out of luck."

"No don't be so hasty. What if I can somehow persuade 
him to double fuck her, but with you and him being the 
two men."

"What you won't get involved at all?"

"Hang on I haven't got this clear in my mind yet."

There was a pause, and then Peter said, "Right Mary, 
you know what he's like, if he thinks you want 
something, that's the last thing he'll go for. So you 
need to keep pushing for the ten panty parties. I'll go 
now, and then I'll phone him, and ask him if there's 
any chance he can set you up for a double penetration 
session. But I'll tell him I can't make it until 
tomorrow. When he tells me he's too horny to wait until 
then, and that he's already either here, or on his way. 
I'll suggest he double fucks you with Gerry. That will 
really appeal to his warped sense of humour."

He looked at Gerry, "If you show your disgust at the 
suggestion; that will make him all the more 
determined."

Gerry asked sarcastically, "So what do you get out of 
it?"

"I told you, I'm not your enemy; concentrate on getting 
Graham off your back."

Then he looked at me, "Will you be able to do this 
cold, or do you want one of these?"

He was holding out a little yellow pill. I took it from 
him, and immediately slipped it in my mouth, and 
picking up the remains of a cold cup of coffee from the 
table, swigged it down, making sure the pill was gone.

Gerry stammered, "What in gods name was that?"

I answered, "Mother's little helper."

He looked at Peter, "What was it?"

"Nothing to worry about. But it'll help her relax. Now 
I'd better go. And the form for him to sign, don't even 
mention it until his already stripping off, and at the 
point where you know he isn't about to stop. But for 
gods sake make sure he signs before his fucked you. 
Right I'm gone."

As he got to his feet I again went over to him, and 
reaching up as high as I could, I put my hand around 
his neck, pulled myself up, and planted a big juicy wet 
kiss. Not just on his lips, but I pushed my tongue deep 
into his mouth. During those few moments as I hung from 
his neck, with our bodies pressed tightly together, I 
not only felt his cock stiffen as it pressed against my 
tummy, I also felt a turmoil in there, one I now 
recognise as a prelude to my arousal. Gerry was stood 
at my side watching, and I guess his tolerance ran out. 
He reached up behind Peter's neck, pulled my hands 
loose and as I dropped back to the floor, he said, 
"Enough of that, I thought you were in a hurry."

Peter replied, "He's right; just do your best to make 
it work."

With that he turned and was on his way. Gerry went on 
about the pill I'd taken, but I told him we hadn't got 
time right now, so he let it drop. We put the paper 
Peter had printed out of sight, and waited. As it was 
Peter and I could have continued that kiss for at least 
another ten minutes, as it was a good fifteen minutes 
before Graham knocked at our door. Mind you, its maybe 
a good thing Gerry interrupted us when he did, 
otherwise, left to my own devices, I'd have probably 
have been riding his cock at this moment. But day-
dreaming aside; back to Graham's arrival.

As he waltzed in our front room, with all the swagger 
of someone who feels in control, he said, "Are Gerry 
lad, I've been hearing good things about you."

"Me? What have I done?"

"This morning. My two business partners."

Then he winked and nodded towards me, "Your little 
lady."

Gerry's response even took me by surprise, "Those 
bastards! If they come here again, I'll fucking kill 
them."

Graham looked shocked, "Why Gerry lad. What did they 
do?"

"Did you really send them?"

"Well yes. But I thought you might appreciate the 
money."

"Money! They came in, saying you'd told them to tell me 
I had to let both of them have sex with Mary. I said 
no, but they said you'd hand over your evidence to the 
police if I didn't cooperate. I said I would phone you 
to make sure it was really your orders. They again 
said, no, saying if I did, you'd shop me to the 
police." 

"So what happened?"

"They took Mary upstairs, both of them at the same 
time."

"You went with them?"

"No they wouldn't let me. When they came down, they 
each threw me five twenty pound notes. And one of them 
also chucked two tickets to the football match, saying. 
'Here, they're no good to me now the blues are out of 
the running'."

"So you're angry with them for only paying two 
hundred?"

"No. It isn't just that, it was what they did to Mary. 
They forced her to... oh shit, I can't even say it."

His acting almost convinced me, and I knew the truth. 
But as he hesitated and covered his face with his 
hands, I continued, "One of them held me while the 
other took me from behind, and once he was in me, he 
held me tight, while the first man took me from the 
front."

Now it was Graham, who started acting, "You mean they 
both fucked you at the same time?"

Gerry answered, and not in his usual submissive tone, 
"YES! And there's no need to be crude about it."

"Now, now Gerry lad; lets not forget about your 
warehouse activities."

"How can I, but I'd have thought with all Mary's been 
through, that debt would have been settled by now."

"I'm not sure it's her who has been through anything; 
it's more the other way around."

"The other way around? What do you mean?"

"I thought it was more a case of all the men who've 
been through Mary."

And as he said this he gave a dirty laugh, "Ha, ha!"

"You dirty sod."

"Less of that my boy, I still have the evidence to get 
you put away."

"That's my point. You've just said in your crude way, 
she's already done it for you with more than one man. 
She must have paid off the debt?"

"Well now lad, she hasn't done any of the lingerie 
parties yet."

Just as he was speaking his mobile phone started 
ringing in his pocket.

"Hang on; I'll just see who this is."

As he looked at the screen on his phone a smile 
appeared on his face, and the phone went up to his ear, 
"Hi Pete old mate. I was just thinking about you."

"I was just ringing to ask a favour."

"Course mate, just name it."

"That bit of skirt you've got jumping through hoops, 
I've been thinking about what Larry and James did with 
her this morning, and I can't get it out of my head. I 
was thinking that maybe instead of getting her to do 
those undies demos for me, how about arranging a double 
fuck for some time tomorrow?"

"I'm with her right now; can't you get straight over 
here?"

"No can do today."

"Are you sure you can't make it, now you've sown the 
idea in my head, I quite fancy doing it now."

"Well go for it."

"But who with, I've already got a stiffy and its 
getting worse as we speak."

"What about that creep of a husband. I would have 
thought getting him to partner you would have appealed 
to your warped sense of humour."

"Shit yes. That's it. Thanks for the idea, call you 
later once I've done the dirty."

We obviously didn't hear Peter's end of the 
conversation, but we assumed he was trying to steer 
Graham towards what we'd already talked about. As 
Graham folded his phone and slipped it in his pocket, 
he said, "That was Peter."

Gerry asked, "The advertising man from the knickers 
firm?"

"That's him."

"So did you make arrangements for Mary to model his 
stuff, so we can call it debt paid?"

"Not that simple."

"Why, she's agreed to do it for him."

"Maybe, but he's not sure he wants it modelled 
anymore."

I then pleaded, "Look I know you've got me over a 
barrel, but I can't take this day after day. If he 
doesn't want the modelling doing, isn't there any other 
way we can get this sorted?"

"Well maybe."

He looked at me as he asked, "I take it you didn't like 
the idea of two men fucking you at the same time?"

"No."

And then using the most sarcastic tone I could muster, 
"Why, do you think that's some sort of treat?"

He then looked at Gerry, "And you, have you ever fucked 
her up the arse?"

"Of course not."

Graham looked at Gerry, "Ok I've got a proposition for 
you. We all go up to your bedroom, and me and your 
little lady will get comfortable. Once I've got her all 
juiced-up, I want you on your back on the bed. If you 
ain't hard, it'll be up to her to get you there. And 
then once you're ready for action, I want her to drop 
her snatch onto your dick, and I'll give her the arse 
fucking of a lifetime."

"You might as well go now."

"What are you telling me you'd rather go to jail?"

"You know I don't want jail, but there are some things 
I won't do."

"You'll regret it."

I could see what Gerry was doing, but I thought it was 
now about time to let Graham think he was calling the 
shots, "Look Mr Spencer. Gerry isn't trying to be 
difficult, but it seems we keep doing what ever you 
say, and we're no nearer getting this debt to you paid. 
If... I'm not saying I will, but if we do let you do as 
you've just said, and Gerry does... you know, join in 
with you. Will that completely settle our debt?"

"Maybe."

Gerry took over, "This is pointless. If you're just 
going to keep stringing us along, then it might as well 
end here. Go to the police and get it over with."

"Don't be so hasty. I said maybe."

I asked, "So what is it that will make it a definite?"

"Now let me see. What about if once we get upstairs, 
Gerry takes your clothes off for me, and then he holds 
your legs open as I get on the bed and start fucking 
you. And then once I get you going, we'll just follow 
the plan I laid out a minute a go."

Gerry spoke up, "No way am I preparing my own wife for 
you to fuck. And I don't care what you say; I'm not 
having sex with her at the same time as you."

"But Gerry, if he agrees this is the last thing we need 
to do, and all your problems are over."

I then looked up to Graham, "That is what you're 
saying; if we do this it is all over?"

"I guess so."

"Please Gerry, I know you don't want to, and god knows 
neither do I, but if Graham rights-off the debt, slate 
clean, then please let's just do it."

"Ok, but this is the last time."

Graham had a smug little smile on his face as he said, 
"Come on then get your little lady up those stairs, I 
want to see you preparing her for me."

We all trouped up to the bedroom, and Graham took the 
seat by my dressing table whilst Gerry began to remove 
my clothing. As he released the clip on my bra, Graham 
said, "That's it Gerry lad let's see her tits hanging 
free."

Gerry continued without comment, and then put his 
fingers into the waist band of my panties. As he 
started to peel them down my legs, Graham again goaded, 
"Good lad, now we can see that little bald snatch."

Once I was naked I stepped back and as I sat onto the 
bed, swung my legs around and lay down full stretch on 
my back. As Gerry lifted my legs open, Graham came up 
behind him, "Ok lad, get your face down there and juice 
it up ready for my dick."

Gerry buried his face into my crotch, and his tongue 
began to lick and flick around my pussy slit, and he 
gave my mound the occasional chew. Over this last hour, 
the little yellow pill had been slowly taking effect, 
so my body had been gradually preparing itself for an 
inevitable sex session. And not being totally sure of 
what that session would entail, only served to heighten 
this arousal. So as Gerry's mouth worked my pussy, and 
my eyes trained on Graham who was by now naked, and 
working his cock up ready for action, my hips began 
their self propelled heaving motion.

By now Graham was stood there with a proud look on his 
face and his stiff cock in his hand, "Ok lad, lift her 
legs up, and hold them as wide as you can. She's got to 
make room for this little beauty of mine."

Gerry followed instructions, and up went my ankles, and 
with him stood at the side of the bed, he lent over the 
top of me and stretched my legs open wide. As Graham 
positioned himself in between my legs and lowered his 
cock into line with my pussy, I looked up to Gerry to 
see if he was coping with the situation. To my 
surprise, his eyes were not weepy or diverted from the 
action. But instead, they were out on stalks, watching 
Graham's cock as it pushed up into my pussy. I then 
diverted my gaze to Gerry's pants, and his cock was so 
aroused, it was sticking out like a centre pole holding 
up a circus tent.

So as Graham got into his stride, and I started to give 
in to my arousal, I suddenly remembered the document 
graham was supposed to sign. I knew I wanted to stop 
him, to make sure we got his signature, but on my first 
attempt, no words left my lips. I remember thrashing my 
arms about trying to get Gerry's attention. But this 
was fruitless. Then I tried kicking to see if I could 
break my legs free. This was also to no avail. I 
swallowed and tried to cry out again, and still all I 
got was a pathetic sigh, like a dying person's last 
breath.

But just then Gerry looked my way and said, "Stop 
kicking you silly bitch."

My head reeled, and I couldn't believe my ears. He was 
deeper into a trance than I was, and it was as if it 
was some kind of game or roll play. But what ever it 
was, it was his oblivion to my plight, which brought my 
voice back under my control. As I let fly this time, I 
was that loud, I almost scared myself, "GERRY. STOP 
HIM."

Graham didn't flinch; he just kept pumping his stiff 
shaft deep up inside my pussy. But Gerry shook, and 
then reality must have kicked-in.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Stop him. Put my legs down. He hasn't signed the 
form."

The next few minutes were almost a comedy situation, me 
thrashing around, Gerry trying to pull Graham free, and 
Graham just steaming ahead as if on auto-pilot. But 
eventually, maybe after a minute or so, grahams cock 
slipped out, more I think due to my thrashing around 
than Gerry's tugging. But between us, the fuck was 
actually halted. Graham looked none to pleased, and 
snarled.

"What the fucks going on?"

I said to Gerry, "Get that piece of paper from my 
dresser."

Gerry brought the paper and gave it to Graham.

"What the fucks this? Couldn't it have waited to we'd 
finished?"

I replied, "No it couldn't. You said this would be the 
last time, and I want you to sign that to make sure it 
is."

He read it and then said, "Where did you get this shit 
from?"

"I wrote it."

He threw it on the floor, "It's all crap. It isn't 
worth the paper it's written on. Now get her legs back 
up. Before I do it myself."

I pulled myself up to the head of the bed and said, "If 
it's all crap, it won't hurt you to sign it."

"Stop fucking me around. Get back down here before I 
get rough."

Gerry had stepped back, taken hold of my dresser chair, 
and he held it over his head as he said, "You move 
towards her and I'll break this over your head."

"Put that down you stupid fool. Where do you think you 
are in some western saloon?"

"I'm warning you, if you so much as lean towards her, 
I'll fucking do it."

He looked down at the paper on the floor where he'd 
thrown it, "Ok, I'm just going to pick this up."

He took hold of the paper and read it again.

"It's like I said, pure shit. Even if I sign it; it 
wouldn't stand up in a court of law."

I again spoke, "So sign it and you can have your fuck."

As I said the last bit, still well out of his reach, I 
spread my knees open and flashed my wet and juicy pussy 
at him.

"Where's the pen?"

"Get him a pen Gerry."

"I can't put this chair down until he's signed."

"I think you can, I don't think he'd like you to break 
it over his back while he is busy ramming my pussy. I 
think he knows a normal household chair would hurt more 
than the stunt chairs in his western movies."

Gerry slowly put down his chair, and graham didn't try 
to make any advances. So when Gerry handed him the pen 
he signed it.

"Ok, now are you happy?"

"Oh yes."

At this I pushed myself down the bed towards him, 
lifted my legs high in the air, and let them fall wide 
open. As graham looked down at my glistening pussy, I 
said to Gerry, "Make sure you put that somewhere safe, 
I don't want him getting any ideas about destroying 
it."

Then looking down at Graham through the 'V' formed by 
my legs, I said, "Come on then, let's see how well you 
and my Gerry can work as a team."

I could see my eagerness wasn't the reaction Graham 
wanted, but even if his gut reaction would have been to 
try some other route to humiliate me, his ardour got 
the better of him. He was back on top of me, and 
thrusting his cock for all he was worth. Not I hasten 
to add at a mad pace, but never the less, his 
purposeful long strokes were delivered with an almost 
vengeful force. But if this action was in any way 
designed to intimidate or worry me, he couldn't have 
been wider of the mark. 

As each thrust neared the end of its stroke, my hips 
would lift, bringing my crotch into contact with his 
groin in a squelchy collision. He rammed me in this 
manner for a good five to ten minutes, and I began to 
think he'd forgotten about his original intention 
involving Gerry.

While this thought was milling through my head, I felt 
him grip me tightly to his body, and with his cock 
firmly deep up inside me, he rolled over on the bed, 
settling on his back, with me above him. Then as he 
released his grip, I took my weight with my knees 
either side of him, and continued the fuck, keeping to 
his long and deliberate strokes, and ending each one 
with my whole weight forcing myself down onto his cock. 
His attention however seemed momentarily distracted, 
and there wasn't any deliberate attempt on his part to 
deliver a simultaneous push.

As I opened my eyes I could see his gaze was also 
diverted, and I looked in the direction of his 
attention. Gerry was just at the point of stepping from 
his boxer-shorts, and his cock was as big, if not 
bigger than I'd ever seen it. To say he was aroused 
would be an understatement. Graham called across to 
him, "Come on then. I'll hold her while you work it up 
her arse."

Gerry couldn't wait, and in seconds he was on the bed 
behind me, and his cock began to push at my bottom.

Now I know I was well and truly arouse, but Gerry 
didn't even rub the end of his cock around in the 
surplus amount of my sticky juices. He just pushed. 
Even though I was well worked up and willing to take 
it, it didn't even enter. I felt the pain as he about 
ripped my flesh, and instinctively let out a yell, 
"CHRIST! Gerry."

Graham must have instantly known what was wrong; I 
guess you can put that down to his experience in these 
things. He said to Gerry, "For gods sake lad, wet it up 
a bit. If you rip her arse she won't be worth fucking."

And then Graham did something I didn't expect. He 
withdrew his cock completely from my pussy, and then 
said, "Go on lad, get it in there and juice it up a 
bit."

Gerry was instantly up in my pussy, and bashing like a 
mad dog with only seconds to live. Graham spoke again, 
"Take your time, and while you're wetting your dick, 
use your fingers to get some of her snatch juices into 
her arse."

I never thought I'd be grateful to Graham, especially 
for him giving sex instructions to my own husband.

But Gerry followed instructions, and when he next 
pushed his cock at my bottom, I got that wonderful 
surge of exhilaration that I'd come to expect from this 
experience. But then Graham re-entered my pussy, and 
with the addition of this extra cock, and the 
stretching this caused, it took the stimulation onto a 
higher plain. 

Now all the anxiety of getting Graham to sign or 
question over Gerry's willingness to take part, was 
over, I just let myself drift off into the land of 
lust. Between them ramming my body from different 
direction and at different paces, and my own 
uncontrollable humping motion, the very essence of my 
being was aflame with passion. 

They fucked me in this manner for maybe five minutes, 
before, at Graham's command, it was all change. I now 
had Gerry underneath me, and he just resumed his 
fucking of my pussy, but with an eagerness I'd not felt 
from him for a very long time. Graham was on his knees, 
and pushing his cock at my bottom. Once it entered, he 
didn't just ram it up hard, but started with his slow 
strokes, and then gradually increased the pace.  

So now as they both resumed their individual rhythms, 
we set forth on the next, and as it was to be final 
stage of this session. I have to say at this point, the 
fact that my husband was one of my two partners didn't 
in anyway influence my behaviour or even my pleasure. 
At this stage of the action, it could have been any two 
men; not that I'd admit that to Gerry. 

Although I guess over time it must have become obvious 
to Gerry, that this method of having sex, (two men), 
would become my favourite. It didn't matter whether 
they took turns at my pussy or use my bottom or throat. 
Over time, I've come to believe, once there are more 
than two men involved, they loose that personal touch 
and tenderness which is so important to put you at your 
ease. And one man by himself can rarely give the 
overall stimulation. These statements are like any 
generalisation, not cast in stone, and you never know 
at the outset of any encounter, just how good it will 
be.

But back to these two, Graham and my husband. I felt 
Graham was still attempting to make his action as 
aggressive as possible, but as my body was in full fuck 
mode, the harder he pounded the more I liked it. 
Whereas my Gerry was fucking deeper and harder than I'd 
ever known, and I don't think it was deliberate, I just 
think he was so turned on. I even think he had 
forgotten it was his own wife he was fucking. As they 
both fucked, neither of them diverted any of their 
attention towards simultaneously fondling or exciting 
any other part of my body. Gerry's hands were on my 
waist as I rode on top of him. And Graham had one arm 
down by my side taking his weight, whilst gripping a 
handful of my hair with the other.

I was surprised that Gerry managed to keep up this 
action for so long without shooting his cum, but in the 
event, after maybe five minutes of this last position, 
he was the first to cum. As I detected his jerky 
movements, my own orgasm just erupted, not as the 
result of a conscious decision, just an automatic 
response to the feeling in my pussy. 

Once my pussy actions started, I assume either my 
bottom had also started to pulse, or the reverberation 
from my pussy must have reached Graham in my bottom. 
But what ever was the cause, my pussy had only just 
started to pulse, when Graham about ripped the handful 
of hair from my head as he rammed so hard, shooting his 
cum deep up inside my bottom.

From that point I just went to dream land while they 
finished delivering there cum. Once they'd finished, 
they left me on the bed still moaning and writhing 
around. Gerry said it took a good five minutes before I 
came to my senses, but that it appears is now normal 
for me. When I got downstairs after my shower, Graham 
had left, and Gerry asked, "Are you ok?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"I guess so. But I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine by me. Have you got that paper he signed put away 
somewhere safe?"

"Yes for all the good it is."

"What do you mean?"

"Mr. Spencer said we might as well rip it up and burn 
it. He says if he calls the police, they'll laugh if we 
show them that. He recons it has no legal standing at 
all."

"I'll bet he does. But I hope you didn't fall for that 
and let him get hold of it?"

"No. I knew you'd blow-up if I did that. But he says 
you need to stop in this afternoon, he's got a 
hairdresser and beautician coming here to give you the 
once over ready for tonight."

"What. And you didn't tell him to go and get stuffed?"

"No way. I don't think he's kidding about that stupid 
paper, and it isn't worth risking him going to the 
police."

"What so you're expecting me to go with him tonight."

"We have to. It's not worth risking everything; all he 
wants you to do, is go to some dinner function as his 
guest. It's not like he wants you to do sex or 
anything."

"You're so gullible. Where's that card Peter gave you?"

He reached into his inside pocket and gave me the card 
he pulled from it. I went to the phone and rang Peter's 
number.

"Hello. Is that you Peter?"

"Yes. Is that Mary?"

"Yes, Graham's just left."

"Did he sign the paper?"

"Yes. But he said..."

Peter interrupted, "Never mind what he said, you've got 
the signed paper there?"

"Yes."

"I'll be right over. See you in about twenty minutes."

As soon as I put the phone down Gerry asked, "Well what 
did he say?"

"He's coming straight over; he'll be here in twenty 
minutes."

"But what did he say when you were going to tell him 
what Mr Spencer said?"

"He just said, never mind, so long as he's signed it."

"Well I guess we'll just have to see what he says when 
he gets here. Oh, isn't there anything you need to do 
to make sure you're ready for when the hairdresser gets 
here?"

"Only be ready to tell her to piss-off. I told you, 
Graham can go fuck himself."

"Please Mary. Lets not be too hasty about this, I know 
you think a lot about this Peter fella, but don't get 
your hopes up. I'm not sure he isn't just trying 
something on to get into your knickers himself."

I gave him an evil look, and said, "If that's all you 
can say, I think it would be better if you kept quiet."

"I'm only..."

"Only fuck-all! I don't want to hear it."

And with that I stormed out into the kitchen. Whilst 
out there I made us both some sandwiches and then 
returned to the lounge where we sat silently eating 
them. Then the knocker on the front door broke the 
silence, and I went to see who it was. I was pleased to 
see it was Peter, and I hurriedly ushered him in.

I handed him the paper, and he immediately put his name 
under Graham's, and then signed it as a witness.

"Ok I'll get this to my legal boys, and make sure it's 
kosher. As soon as I know it's watertight, I'll ring 
you back."

"But what should we do until then?"

"About what?"

"He's sending some girls here to doll me up, and he 
wants me to go with him tonight to some function."

"Have you accepted?"

"I haven't, but I think Gerry gave him the impression 
I'd go."

"Ring him back now and stall him. Tell him you've 
already got something arranged, don't tell him you 
won't do it, just make excuses about tonight. I don't 
want you pissing him off until we are sure this is 
going to do the trick."

"What shall I tell him I'm doing?"

"Well I think after these last few days, you could do 
with a night out. What is your favourite type of 
evening entertainment?"

"I don't know, maybe a film or going out to a pub for a 
meal."

"A meal? Don't forget I saw you eating the other night. 
You hardly eat enough to keep a sparrow alive. I don't 
think eating is your first love, otherwise you wouldn't 
have a waist like yours."

"Well I used to like ballroom dancing, but Gerry isn't 
keen on it, so I haven't been for years."

"I wasn't asking what Gerry liked; it's you who needs 
the treat."

"That's it. Can I use your phone?"

He dialled a number, and then, "Hello, this is Mr 
Harris. Can you tell me, is the ballroom open tonight?"

"Yes sir."

"Well I have two guests of mine who will be arriving 
around eight. I'd like you to let them have my table. 
My membership number is 876954. Ok have you got that?"

"Yes sir."

"Thank you. Bye."

He put the phone down, and said, "That's it sorted, 
it's the Marriott Hotel in town, so it's not too far to 
go. All you have to do is book a cab, and make sure 
your good lady has a wonderful time."

Gerry didn't look that impressed, "You tell us to go 
out and enjoy ourselves, and you arrange for us to go 
to a dance? And ballroom dancing at that. My god, I'll 
be bored out of my brain."

"The idea was to give your wife a treat. She's the one 
whose been carrying the strain these last few days."

"Her, what about me? I'm the one being threatened with 
prison."

"Yes but you were the one who committed the crime. The 
only thing she's done wrong was to marry you. Now are 
you going to take her, or do you want me to do it for 
you?"

"You? So that's your game. I knew you were after 
another fuck."

"For your information, some of us can appreciate what 
we've already been given, and feel we ought to do 
something to pay back our debts. And yes I'd love to 
take your wife out, it would make me proud to been seen 
out with a girl as gorgeous as her on my arm. But if I 
did, she'd be treated like a lady, and the only way the 
night would end up with personal contact, would be if 
she initiated it. So are you taking her out or not?"

"But it'll cost a bomb."

"Don't talk silly. You've got four hundred quid from 
those two men this morning. And I think you'll agree 
you owe your Mary a treat. It'll cost you no more than 
a tenner each way for the cab. The entrance and my 
table will be free. The meal and drinks won't come to 
more than eighty. So for just one hundred, you can show 
your little lady how much she means to you."

Gerry's answer wasn't a resounding confirmation, "I 
Guess so."

Then Peter looked at me, "Tonight is your night. I'll 
try my best to get this paper sorted by my legal men, 
and if possible let you know before you go out. But 
whether you know or not, just forget about the problems 
and have a good time."

Then as he walked to the door he said to Gerry, "Make 
sure she knows how much she's appreciated."

Gerry flicked his hand up to his head in a mock salute, 
as he sarcastically said, "Yes sir."

Then as Peter walked down the path, and was just about 
out of earshot, he added, "Fuck you!"

"Gerry! There was no need for that."

"Who the fuck does he think he is. Telling me what I 
should or shouldn't do. You're my fucking wife."

"But you will ring Graham and tell him I can't go with 
him tonight?"

"I'm not sure we should upset him."

My last request to Gerry have been just that, a 
request, asked in an imploring tone. But his answer 
didn't please me, and I snapped back, "I don't care 
what you think. Either you ring that dirty sod or I 
will. And if I ring him, I'll get him so wound up, 
he'll fucking explode."

"Keep your hair on. I'll ring him; you go and clear 
away those plates and things from our lunch."

I stormed out into the kitchen, and began to clear away 
and wash-up all the stuff from our lunch-time snack. I 
guess it was about fifteen minutes later while I was 
still busy in the kitchen, I heard a knock on the front 
door. Gerry answered it, and I could hear female voices 
coming into the house. As I left the kitchen, and made 
eye contact with the first of the three girls, she 
said, "Hi Mary, where do you want us to put our gear?"

It took me by surprise; it was the girls who'd prepared 
me for that first photo shoot at graham's place. I 
hastily answered, "Err. Can you just pile it all in the 
hall for a moment, and then you can all wait in the 
front room while I have a word with my husband."

They looked a little put-out by my request, but they 
followed my instructions, and while they went into the 
front room I dragged Gerry into the kitchen to find out 
what was going on.

"I thought I told you to cancel those girls?"

"Don't get all het-up, I phoned Mr Spencer, and he said 
it was too late to cancel, he'd have to pay them 
anyway. So he said being as we are going out tonight, 
you could have the beauty treatment on him."

"But he knows I'm not going out with him tonight?"

"Yes. He understands we've got our own lives. He says 
he'll give us a call in the morning to re-arrange the 
thing he'd got planned for tonight."

"Well ok. Hopefully by then Peter will have got that 
statement sorted, and we can tell Graham to go get 
fucked."

"Maybe. We'll see."

So I went up to my room with the three girls, and 
between them they worked on every part of my body. It 
was somewhere around five in the afternoon when I heard 
the phone down stairs, and I could hear Gerry answering 
it, but not what was being said. Gerry called up to me, 
"It's Mr Harris, he's got good news for you; can you 
come to the phone?"

We have a phone in the bedroom, so with my hair still 
embroiled in clips and twirled rags, I picked it up. As 
I spoke, I could tell by the sound in the ear-piece, 
Gerry must still be listening down stairs.

"Hello, is that you Peter?"

"Yes, and I've got real good news. As far as Gerry is 
concerned, he can forget all about Graham's threats."

"Oh Peter, you don't know how much that means to us."

"Well it doesn't end there. Because Graham has, in 
effect, taken the responsibility for Gerry's actions, 
he has now made himself responsible for the insurance 
fraud. And no matter what he signed on that paper, that 
is a real fraud, and it has taken place."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, my lawyers have sent him an instruction, 
telling him to return all photos, videos and any kind 
of recorded material that he has, with you or Gerry. If 
he doesn't comply, he is under threat of his confession 
being brought to the attention of the authorities."

"Do you think he'll comply?"

"Well he'll have to at least hand over some of what 
he's taken, but no matter how much he keeps, he won't 
dare to show any of it to anyone else in case it finds 
its way into the public domain. He knows if that 
happens, he will end up serving the same sentence he 
forecast for Gerry. So all the stuff he took of you in 
compromising situations, is now safe. Gerry says your 
getting ready for your night out, you go and enjoy 
yourself, and do it knowing things are now sorted."

"Oh Peter, I know I'll never be able to pay you back 
for what you've done for us, but please come to see us 
tomorrow, and I'll at least try to show you how much we 
owe you."

"I'll come, but I won't hold you to promises of that 
sort. When tomorrow arrives, if you're still of a mind, 
and your Gerry is in agreement, maybe then I will take 
up your offer. But for now, go and let your hair down. 
Bye for now."

With that I dropped the receiver back, knowing Gerry 
had heard every word about Graham's videoing of my 
sexual antics, and my offer to Peter. I spent the rest 
of the afternoon being pampered and preened, and by 
seven in the evening, even if this does sound boastful, 
I looked absolutely stunning. I stood there looking at 
myself in the mirror, in the new underwear one of these 
girls had brought with her, and just like a couple of 
days previous, I had difficulty believing this was 
really me. From drab everyday housewife to drop dead 
gorgeous, and it had only taken just a few short hours. 
Then as I was looking in the mirror, the girl appeared 
behind me, holding up a dress. This was not an everyday 
going out dress, or even a going out to dinner sexy 
number; no, this was straight off 'Come Dancing', or 
some stage musical.

Flamboyant in style, and showy to the point of being 
blatantly erotic. The underwear I was already wearing 
must have been chosen with this kind of dress in mind, 
as the dress did little to cover it up, and it was only 
the underwear that provided any real flesh cover. My 
first reaction was; no way, and that was also my first 
words to the girl who was holding it up for me to see, 
"No way. I can't go out in something like that."

"But I was told you were going to a high class ballroom 
function."

"Well I guess we are."

"Well in that case, everyone else will be wearing 
something along these lines, not necessarily as 
expensive as this, but just as revealing."

"Surely not? This is more like a stage costume for a 
chorus line dancer."

"I'm not being funny, but how long is it since you went 
to one of these dances."

"A while ago, I guess."

"Well I'm not kidding, this is normal these days, 
especially since the TV and films have made this kind 
of dancing popular. In fact, I was worried you might 
think this dress a little understated."

"My god no. I guess I can try it on and see what my 
husband thinks."

So dressed in this 'understated' dress I made my way 
down stairs, and into the front room where Gerry was 
waiting. I think the reaction from us both was the 
same; I know the initial comment was, "My god!"

Was spoke as one, so overlapping were our voices, it 
was closer than an echo. I'd never before seen him in a 
tuxedo, complete with bow-tie, and when I said it was 
hard to believe the girl in the mirror was me; it was 
hard to believe the man in my front room was Gerry, he 
looked so smart and handsome. So I guess it wasn't 
surprising Gerry found my appearance difficult to take 
in.

You can imagine the kind of remarks we made about each 
other, and eventually, we both came to terms with 
ourselves, and each others appearances. I had thought 
going on past experience, he wouldn't have wanted to be 
seen out with me looking like this, but to my surprise, 
he was very complimentary. The three girls left, and at 
around seven-thirty, someone was knocking at our door. 
I said, "The taxis early."

"It isn't a taxi; we're going in Mr Spencer's limo."

My heart dropped, "Gerry, don't tell me he's waiting 
out there?"

"No. He's lent us his car. He said as you weren't going 
with him tonight, he had no use for it."

"I don't like being beholden to him."

"Relax, it's saving us money."

I decided to let the subject drop, and out we went to 
the limo. It did feel grand; both dressed to the nines, 
and being driven in this big car. We even got a voice-
over from the driver telling us there was champagne on 
ice in the drinks cabinet, and we were to help 
ourselves. Gerry was soon pouring out the glasses, and 
we drank as the car carried us effortlessly to the 
ball. When the car pulled up in the reception 
courtyard, and we stepped out, I looked up at the big 
illuminated sign. 'CLUB EXOTIQUE'

I turned to Gerry, "This isn't the right place. We're 
supposed to be going to the Marriott Hotel."

"It is right. Mr. Spencer said they hold ballroom 
dancing here, and being as he's a member, we not only 
get in free and get a free table, but he also said our 
meals and all our drinks will be free."

"You tight fisted sod. You've brought us here, just to 
get out of paying one hundred measly quid."

"But this place is better than the one Mr Harris 
suggested, he says here they have professional dancers 
to act as dance partners, you know I hate dancing."

I reluctantly let him lead me in, and as we walked into 
what I can't deny was a sumptuous ballroom, I asked 
him, "So am I going to find Graham appearing at some 
point during the evening?"

"No. We're here on our own."

"Well I might as well be on my own, I guess you'll be 
sitting at the bar drinking while I dance with a 
perfect stranger."

"But I did it for you."

"That's rich. So how do you make that out?"

"You like dancing, you know you do. I'm useless at it, 
and I always end-up either tripping you up or treading 
on your toes."

Now I hate to admit it, but there was more than a hint 
of truth in his statement. But for all his clumsiness 
on the dance floor, I'd much rather have spent this 
night with him than a stranger.

By now we were being shown to a table at the edge of 
the dance floor, and as a waiter handed us the menu, I 
could see Gerry's eyes were on stalks, looking at what 
looked like professional dancers as they stepped out 
across the floor. These dancers didn't look like girls 
out to have a good time, but more like competitors 
warming up for a dance competition. And their dresses, 
were as my dresser earlier had predicted, every bit as 
revealing if not more so than mine.

We ordered our meal, and again, I can't complain about 
anything to do with that part of the evening. The food 
and wine were wonderful, and we were treated like some 
kind of royalty. Then after we'd finished, and the 
table was cleared, up came a well dressed man, but he 
didn't look quite like one of the waiters.

"Excuse me sir, madam. I believe you would like to make 
use of our dance partner service?"

Gerry began to answer before I could stop him, "Ah, 
yes, my wife would..."

I interrupted him, "Please Gerry. Before you go to the 
bar, at least come on the floor for one dance."

Gerry looked at me, and then turning back to this man, 
"It looks like we won't need you just yet, but once 
I've tripped over her dress a few times and she gets 
fed-up with my two left feet; then you can come back."

So the man left us, and we went out onto the floor. 
With Gerry, it wasn't really a case of dancing around, 
he'd just shuffle his feet, and no matter what dance 
was being played, we'd just slowly edge our way around 
the floor. But although I could tell he was hating 
every second, it felt so good to lay my head on his 
chest, knowing all the worries of the past week were 
now gone. I guess I was in a kind of dream as we slowly 
moved around the floor, with all these real dancers 
gliding past. Then my trance was broken as Gerry said, 
"This is where I get off."

I opened my eyes, and lifted my head, "What. Oh. We're 
back to our table."

"That's it girl, once around the floor is one too many 
times for me. As soon as that guy finds you a partner, 
I'm off to the bar."

Before I'd hardly re-seated myself, the man was back at 
our table, and asking Gerry, "Do you require our 
partner service now sir?"

This time Gerry looked at me, as if to ask if I was 
ready, and I nodded. 

"Yes, I think my wife is ready now."

The man now turned to face me, "Would madam like me to 
bring the book, or would you prefer to come with me, 
and make your selection in person?"

Before I answered, Gerry quipped, "My god, they've even 
got a menu for choosing the right man. I bet it's 
called a manu."

"Ignore my husband; he thinks he's a comedian. I'll 
come with you, its more important the partner is the 
right height, and I can judge that better by standing 
in front of him, rather than seeing him in a book and 
reading his measurement."

The man bowed his head, as he replied, "As you wish 
madam, this way."

I walked in the direction he'd ushered, and he 
followed, just half a pace behind me. Gerry, of course, 
immediately turned and headed for the bar. We proceeded 
from the dance floor, and along various corridors. If 
it was necessary to make a turn, the man would just 
lean forwards, and give directions with his arm, and 
then as we arrived at a door, he lent forwards and 
opened it, allowing me to go in first. In the room were 
about ten men all sat around either reading or watching 
the TV in the corner of the room. 

As soon as they saw me entering, the TV was switched 
off, and all men put down their books and magazines, 
and began to form an orderly line across the room. They 
stood there to attention, like soldiers on parade. I 
was ushered to walk along the line, and it felt so 
surreal, as if I was the queen inspecting the guard of 
honour. But from the ten men, I found three that I'd 
say were the right height for me.

I don't think I've mentioned it, but dancing is a long 
standing love of mine, and I'd originally started my 
dancing at around ten years old. Like lots of girls of 
this age, it was just somewhere for mom to send me on a 
Saturday morning to keep me amused. I guess at around 
fifteen, I'd moved into the ballroom training, and by 
seventeen, there was talk of me making it my 
profession. But again, like lots of seventeen year old 
girls, I discovered boys. 

Well dating boys and regular training sessions don't 
mix, and as one had to go, the dancing took the back 
seat. I still went to regular dances on Saturday 
nights, but all thoughts of becoming a pro just 
disintegrated. (Funny how that word, 'pro' can mean 
different things depending on what context it is used) 
But back to the present, and the reason for me 
mentioning my past experience. I was always told, 'to 
enter a dance competition, it is most important to get 
the correct match of heights between the partners. 

The girl should turn her head slightly to her left and 
lean it forwards. That is to say, towards her right 
ear, this should then rest against the shoulder of her 
partner.' If you had been partnering someone for a few 
years, especially in your teens, it was often the case 
one of the partners would grow out of this symmetry. In 
these cases, special shoes would have to be made to 
rectify the height.

But I'm drifting again. Back to my choice of three. One 
looked too smug, I'm sure he thought he was god's gift 
to women, but not the man for me. Then there was a man 
around forty to fifty, very distinguished, and 
handsome; but somehow, not my type. And the man I opted 
for, I'd guess aged in his late twenties, big broad 
shoulders, and in some ways, he looked very like my 
brother. I turned and looked at the man who'd escorted 
me to the room, "Can I choose this one?"

"Certainly madam. His name is Gregory. So you can call 
him Greg if you wish."

I looked back to the man I'd chosen, "What do you 
prefer?"

He didn't answer, but the other man did, "It's your 
choice madam; he isn't allowed to have an opinion."

"Ok, Greg it is. Will you take my arm Greg?"

As he stepped forwards and slipped his arm through 
mine, the other man asked, "And how should he address 
you, Madam, Mrs. Kendal or would you like him to use 
your first name?"

"Well Mary is my name, so I think that would be just 
fine."

"Ok Greg, can you escort Mrs. Kendal to the dance 
floor."

He then made eye contact with me as he said, "I hope 
you have a wonderful evening. If there is anything else 
you need just get Greg to contact me."

As he escorted me back along the corridors, I said, 
"Now old sour puss has gone, what name do you really 
want me to call you?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not allowed to get personal. If 
they found out, I'd get the sack."

"Oh come on. I can't enjoy myself if you're going to be 
a stuffed shirt."

"Well providing you don't let on; my mates call me 
Trav."

"Trav, how on earth did you get that from Gregory, or 
is that your middle name?"

"No it's nothing to do with my name; it was just a name 
from my teens. When I was going to dance classes, my 
mates all used to take the pi... Oh I'm sorry. I mean 
the used to kid me, saying I was like John Travolta. 
And I guess the name stuck."

"So you like dancing?"

"My god yes, if I was better at it, I'd have been a 
pro. But although I try, I'll never make it big time. 
And you? Are you just here to enjoy yourself, or are 
you here to compete?"

"To have a good time and relax. Why is there a 
competition on tonight?"

"Yes, it's the Latin American sessions tonight. I 
thought with your dress, maybe you were going to 
enter."

"No, the dress was... oh maybe that's a story for 
another time. But no, I didn't even know there would be 
a competition on tonight."

"But do you dance?"

"Yes."

"I mean competition style?"

"Well I trained, but that was years ago, and I haven't 
even been on the floor for ages."

At this point we were back in the ballroom and just 
walking onto the floor, "Ok, let's see how much you 
remember."

He started cautiously, and although it had been so long 
since I last danced, real dancing that is, it was, as 
they say, like riding a bike. From the moment I felt 
him pulling my body up against his, and I felt that 
guiding push from his hip, the steps just seemed to 
come without even thinking about it. Within just the 
first few steps, it was like going back all those 
years, and it felt so wonderful gliding around the 
floor.

By the time the first dance had finished, which by the 
way had been a waltz, it was almost as though we'd been 
partners for months. And then as the band struck up 
again, and as the Foxtrot started, we were off. During 
this dance he tentatively tried one or two of the more 
flamboyant movements, and I instinctively responded as 
he threw me into a spin at the end of each movement.

As I glanced around, it became obvious people seated 
around the dance floor were beginning to take notice of 
us, as were one or two of the other dancers. As the 
dance ended, Trav said, "Well you certainly haven't 
forgotten how to dance. Now would you like to enter for 
the competition later?"

"Don't be silly. I'm just enjoying myself, it's been so 
long, and I hadn't realised just how much I'd missed 
the feeling of floating around like that. You're such a 
good lead; I don't think I've ever had a partner as 
experienced as you."

"Don't sell yourself short. You don't need me to lead 
you, you're a natural dancer."

"Thank you. But as I said, I'm only here to enjoy 
myself tonight."

"No reason why you can't do that, and at the same time 
make some money."

"What money?"

"This is a preliminary for next years dance show on TV, 
and this is big business. The prise money for just this 
one section, the Latin American; is worth five 
hundred."

"You have to be kidding?"

"No. And I think there's an outside chance we could 
take that prise."

"No way. I'm so out of practice."

"But I can tell you're a real dancer. All you need is 
some advice on the flashy stuff."

"What do you mean?"

"Most of this lot are new to the game, and they are 
nearly all relying on the glitz and glamour to impress 
the judges. You already know how to dance; now you just 
need a few flashy moves."

"But we wouldn't have time to practice."

"Hang on, if you wait here for just a few minutes, I'll 
go and make some inquiries."

With that he was gone, and I sat alone at my table. I 
was only alone for a few minutes, before Trav returned 
with another man.

"This is William, he runs a dance class."

"Hi, Mary isn't it?"

"Yes, I don't know what Trav has told you, but I never 
was that good, and I'm way out of practice."

"Well if you'd like to take to the floor, I'll only 
need to see you do a couple of circuits, and then I'll 
tell you what I think."

Trav took my hand, "Come on; let's show him what you 
can do."

So off we went, and even though in my own mind I didn't 
believe I was that good, I knew, good or not, this was 
something that really gave me pleasure. So I just let 
myself be guided by Trav, and didn't attempt to inhibit 
the normally hidden extrovert side of my nature.

When we arrived back at the table, William was full of 
praise, and he hurriedly ushered us off along the 
corridors, and into a small dance studio. It had three 
walls lined with mirrors, two of which had a dance 
support bar running along their length. We three were 
the only ones in the room, and he didn't waste any time 
in explaining the situation to me.

"What you lack is the 'New style', but it is obvious, 
you already have the dancing itself well and truly 
mastered. But what you'll be mostly up against out 
there is girls who can't really dance, but have been 
practicing the style, and flamboyant movements. Now I 
can show you quickly a few of the modern movements, 
which are all based upon the principle of using 
sexually provocative poses to wow the judges, and of 
course, once you appear on TV, the viewer. I could see 
from that brief step around the floor you are not 
afraid to use your body, and if you put out the poses 
with enough unashamed daring, I'm sure you are in with 
a chance of getting at least into the top three."

"You really think so?"

"Yes; but as with all these things, it is the 
connection between you and the judges that makes the 
final deciding factor. Don't eye them directly, but 
surreptitious glances, and coy flirting usually wins 
votes."

"I'm not sure I can do that."

"Well that's up to you, of course. Now let's show you 
how to display yourself, without making it look too 
blatant."

We spent only about fifteen minutes, but in that time 
he got Trav to throw me in slow motion into various 
positions. And as I'd roll or twist from Trav's arms, 
William would manoeuvre my body and even legs into a 
pose he wanted me to take. Then he said, "Ok, I think 
you've got enough ideas there, just go out and dance 
your socks off, using which ever of the poses I've 
shown you that you feel comfortable with. But remember, 
look happy, try to look natural, and if you catch the 
eye of a judge, flirt. Now go and have fun."

We were soon out on the floor and even with these new 
poses, I just let myself go, exposing my assets, such 
as they were, for all to see. Not that our dancing was 
any more extrovert than the other professional dancers, 
but just more than I was used to. I guess we had almost 
thirty minutes on the floor before the announcement 
came over the speakers,

"Ladies and gentlemen. We are pleased to announce the 
first section of our Latin American dance competition. 
So if you can all return to your tables, we will then 
get our competition couples on the floor and the show 
can begin. Oh and if there are any couples out there 
who have not yet registered, and want to compete, 
please make sure you do so before taking to the floor. 
Thank you, and now we will have the first dance."

As the floor cleared, and the band struck up with the 
first dance, Trav said, "Ok Mary; lets show them what 
we can do."

"But we haven't registered."

"That's been taken care of, come on."

So without any further talking we were off. He danced 
so effortlessly, and his confident manner somehow began 
to influence me and my ability. By the time the first 
round had been judged, they whittled the initial thirty 
plus couples down to just six; and we were one of that 
six. This in itself was way beyond what I could have 
expected, and even this achievement helped to boost my 
confidence.

So now as each dance began the judges only had six 
couples to follow, and this, of course, meant their 
appraisal could be a lot more critical. Throughout this 
session, I did make a conscious effort to engage either 
of the two male judges in fleeting eye contact. And 
although I say it myself, I felt I was successful in 
this undertaking on several occasions with both men 
individually. But then as we got towards the end of the 
round, I think the not knowing how well we were doing, 
coupled with my lack of experience, began to show. 

At one point as Trav span me around, I missed my 
footing, and in the resultant trip, my hand slipped 
from his grip. I sprawled across the floor, and came to 
rest only a few feet from the platform where the judges 
were seated, so there wasn't even a chance I'd gotten 
away with my blunder without being seen.

Trav was instantly down by my side, and his expert 
movements as he lifted me back to my feet could in a 
normal dance, have almost led onlookers to think this 
was part of a deliberate movement. But it was obvious 
to the judges, that I'd made a gaffe. As I was being 
helped to my feet, my eyes met up with one of these 
judges; and although it is impossible to be sure. The 
look he gave me, didn't convey 'You stupid girl', but 
more 'I want to have sex with you'. As I say, that is 
just my interpretation, and I could have been wild of 
the Mark.

The round ended, and there was the usual build-up to 
the announcement of the two couples who would go on to 
the grand finale later in the evening. I guess you 
won't be surprised to find out, Trav and I were chosen 
as one of these two. But I for one was absolutely 
flabbergasted, and I even came over in a mild faint, 
requiring Trav to slip his arm around my back, and take 
my weight as he helped me back to our table. Even the 
judge who was doing the announcements noticed, and 
asked over the microphone if I was alright. This I can 
tell you didn't help my situation, and only served to 
make me blush bright red as the spot light picked me 
out for all to see.

But once the dance floor was returned to normal 
dancing, and I was again alone with Trav, I soon 
regained my composure, and had just settled down to 
drink the glass of wine he'd ordered for me, when Gerry 
arrived at the table.

"So. Was I right to bring you here or do you still 
think we should have gone to the Marriott?"

I'd been having such a wonderful time, I'd forgotten 
about the earlier argument about our venue for the 
night. But I reluctantly replied, "Yes, you were right. 
We can go out for a romantic evening on our own any 
night."

Then Gerry asked, while looking at Trav, "So are you 
two going to win the big prize tonight?"

"Well sir, I'll do my best, and if I don't let your 
wife down, then she has every chance of going home a 
winner."

Just then the man who'd arrived at our table earlier 
asking if I required a dancing partner, re-appeared at 
our table. We later found out this was the ballroom 
manager. He walked directly up to Gerry, and taking him 
to one side, they began to talk. With the volume of the 
music, I couldn't hear what was being said, but Gerry 
turned and as he held his hand out towards me, he said, 
"Come on, looks like you've attracted the attention of 
some kind of big-wig."

Still seated, I asked, "Who? And what does he want?"

"Don't look so suspicious. He's a Japanese business 
man. Very rich, he owns one of the biggest 
manufacturing companies in Japan."

"So what? Why would he want to meet us?"

Gerry lent across and whispered in my ear, "He owns 
this place. And he just wants to meet you."

"But I don't want to meet him. I'm happy where I am."

Gerry again whispered in my ear, "He can fix the result 
of the dance competition."

"So what does he want in return?"

Again in a whisper, "Keep your voice down. Don't be so 
silly, if he can fix it for you to win, if we don't go, 
he could also fix it so you to loose."

"So?"

"It's five hundred quid. Since when did you get so rich 
you could turn your nose up at that sort of money?"

"That depends on what he expects in return."

"Don't be silly. In a place like this? You've been 
watching too many films."

Then as he gave my hand a tug, "Now come on."

I let myself be led to my feet, and off we went 
following in the managers footsteps. We entered a lift, 
and then as the doors opened on the first floor, we 
walked out into the most sumptuous of apartments. All 
around we men dressed in traditional Japanese male 
attire, some even had swords. It was almost like Gerry 
had just said, a film set. But for some reason, the 
sight of these men dressed this way felt threatening. 
Nothing you could put your finger on, but never the 
less, I felt a shiver of fear go down my spine.

We were ushered across to one side of the room where 
there was a glass window running the full length of 
this wall, and seated looking outwards was a tiny man, 
also dressed in traditional Japanese clothes. But his 
robes were obviously very expensive cloth, and they 
shimmered with gold and silver threads inlaid into the 
material. As we arrived at his side, his seat turned, 
and his eyes looked me up and down. This in itself 
reinforced my apprehension, as his gaze was one of a 
lecher invading every inch as he scanned. I instantly 
turned my head to avoid he eyes as they reached my 
face. In that few seconds, I was staring out of the 
window, and from this vantage point had a panoramic 
view of the whole dance floor.

My trance was broken by the little man's sharp and 
shrill voice as he snapped out something in Japanese. 
The manager then spoke, translating for the little man, 
but in a manner that led me to think he was almost 
afraid of him.

"Quickly! Turn and bow to Mr. Aioka. He thinks you're 
being discourteous."

I turned to face him, and lowered my head in a half-
hearted show of servitude. The manager then said, "No. 
Like this, and lower your eyes; it's not your place to 
look him in the face."

As he spoke he had placed both his hands together in 
front of his chest, as if praying, as he bowed his body 
low. I looked at Gerry, and then as I began to turn 
towards the door I said, "He can go take a running 
jump. I'm off."

The manager's face was horror struck, and Gerry just 
looked confused. But before I'd moved one step, four of 
the men who'd up until this moment, been just standing 
near the outside of the room; made a dash towards Gerry 
and I. I'd only moved a few feet before a man at each 
side of me had taken hold of an arm apiece, and 
returned me back in front of Mr. Aioka. Gerry was also 
being held, and he was now in a position just to my 
side. The manager then said, "They'll release you if 
you promise to do as you're told."

I was furious, and I looked at Gerry to see what his 
reaction was. But he just said, "Come on, all you have 
to do is bow to him, it's just their way."

So reluctantly, I said, "Ok tell his goons to let me 
go."

The manager didn't need to pass the message on; both 
men instantly released my arms. I put my hands 
together, and gave him a low bow, remembering not to 
look him in the eye. A smile appeared on Mr. Aioka's 
face, and then he again spoke. But I had no idea what 
he'd said. The manager translated, "He would like you 
to slip your dress off your shoulders."

"I'll bet he would. Tell him to go f... Tell him no."

The manager spoke to Gerry, "Please, tell her to do as 
he asks. If she doesn't, you'll both end up regretting 
it."

Gerry looked perplexed, but before just passing the 
instruction on to me, he asked, "If I get her to do 
that? How much further is he going to expect her to 
go?"

"It doesn't matter how far. If he wants her dead. By 
tomorrow morning, she'll be lying dead and naked in a 
ditch somewhere. I don't think you understand who 
you're dealing with."

Gerry obviously didn't like what he heard, "Hang on; we 
didn't come up here for this sod to just do as he 
pleases with us."

"You still don't get it. If Mr. Aioka wants something, 
no matter whom or what it is; he gets it. Don't make it 
hard for yourselves."

"So if we don't cooperate, what does he think he's 
gonna do?"

Gerry had hardly finished his sentence, before the men 
holding him, pulled his arms out into a crucifix 
stance, and while they held him, another man came and 
lowered his trousers and pants. Then a fourth man 
appeared with a knife similar to a cut-throat razor, 
but this knife wasn't a foldable type, and had a fixed 
wooden handle. As the shiny steel blade caught the 
light and flashed, my heart dropped. The man had taken 
hold of Gerry's penis, and was now holding the blade 
against the flesh. Gerry was, of course, trying to 
struggle, but avoiding any lower body movements.

I didn't hesitate, and as I began to peel my dress from 
my shoulders, I begged, "Tell him to take his knife off 
Gerry."

"You just concentrate on pleasing Mr. Aioka, and your 
husband won't get hurt."

I'd dropped the top of my dress, and it now hung open 
down either side of my hips, the top of my body being 
covered by the bodice, come bra. Mr. Aioka again gave a 
smug grin, and then again spoke out some instruction. 
Assuming it was an instruction for me to remove more 
clothing, I asked, "Ok what's the little pig want now?"

My heart leapt into my mouth as the man who was holding 
the knife against Gerry's penis, slashed out, drawing 
his blade across the top of Gerry's naked leg. The 
blood just poured down Gerry's leg, and I realised 
these men understood English, and were reacting to my 
remark about their boss. 

My first thought on seeing his hand movement, and the 
blood that followed, was that he had indeed sliced off 
Gerry's penis, but as I looked across, although serious 
enough, it was obvious this was just a warning. I 
clasped my hands together, and as I bowed low and 
humbly, I pleaded, "Please forgive me. Please don't 
hurt my Gerry. I'll do what ever you want."

The manager now spoke, "That was foolish of you. Now 
remove your dress, and use it to stop the bleeding."

I hurriedly ripped off my dress, and struggled to tear 
it into strips to use as bandages. The material 
wouldn't rip, and I had to hold it out towards the man 
with the knife, and ask, "Can you cut it please?"

This he did, and once he'd made a short cut, I was then 
able to tear it. I repeated this a couple more times, 
each time asking for it to be cut. And then on my 
knees, I first cleaned the wound, and then bandaged it.

Luckily, it wasn't deep, and although it had looked 
like a lot of blood loss, as soon as I'd wrapped the 
bandage around it, it reduced to a slight trickle, and 
very soon it stopped altogether. But as soon as I'd 
completed my rudimentary first aid, the manager said.

"Ok, now thank Mr. Aioka for allowing you to do that."

I followed instructions, again clasping my hands 
together, and pleading, "Please forgive me. I'm sorry 
if I caused offence."

His face again turned into a smile, but the kind of 
smile that doesn't encourage a feeling of safety. Then 
he spoke, and as before the manager passed on his 
orders.

"He would like to see your tits."

I put my hands to the bottom of the bodice, and lifted 
it allowing my breasts to fall free, and held it there 
so he could look at them.

"No. He wants you to take it off."

I lifted it higher, and stretched it up over first one 
shoulder, then the next, and finally lifted it off, 
dropping it on the floor at my side. I stood there as 
Mr. Aioka got to his feet, and began to fondle them.

He spent maybe a minute or so working from one to the 
other, just using his hands, but this was sufficient to 
produce two hard protruding nipples. This obviously 
delighted him, and after making sure everyone in the 
room knew he'd aroused me, he again spoke, but this 
time, he appeared to be addressing his men at the side 
of the room.

Three men appeared, two of them carrying a long plank. 
Not a rough builder's variety, but a wooden type board 
all the same, even if it did have strategically 
positioned leather straps and cushioning attached. The 
men lifted the plank up to my shoulder height, and as 
they placed the centre of it on the back of my neck, 
the third man reached up from in front of me, and 
fastened a leather strap around my neck. The other two 
men had each taken a wrist apiece, and were restraining 
them to straps at each end of the plank.

So now I'm stood there like Jesus on the cross, almost 
naked, just my pants, which thank god, gave me full 
protection, being designed to be on show beneath the 
ball gown. Again Mr Aioka spoke, and the manager turned 
to Gerry and said, "Pull her knickers off."

Both men instantly released Gerry, but he first looked 
at me, and then turning back to the manager, shook his 
head as he said, "You can't do this. We'll report you 
to the police."

The men instantly grabbed him, and the man with the 
knife again held it as if threatening to cut off his 
penis.

"Don't be silly. If you do as you're told, you will be 
rewarded. But if not, you'll be disposed of, and after 
she's been raped, she'll join you in a cold wet ditch. 
Now just be a good boy."

As Gerry was released and looked my way, I nodded, as 
if to tell him to do as he had been instructed. At this 
point I didn't doubt their intention or ability to 
carry out their threats. So Gerry was now on his knees, 
as he lowered my pants, and I stepped out of them. The 
men either side turned me around so I faced away from 
Mr. Aioka, and then as they guided me, the manager 
said, "On your knees. That's it. Now lean forwards."

As I leant, my hands, still restrained on the board, 
rested on a small padded table or stool placed either 
side of me. This took my weight, the board giving my 
arms the strength to hold myself in this position.

"Open your knees. Mr. Aioka wants to see your cunt."

I immediately complied, and waited for the dirty little 
Jap to mount me. I couldn't see what he was doing, or 
in truth, who it was. But I felt hot breath on the top 
of my legs, and instinctively knew someone had their 
head deep up into my crotch. Then as Mr Aioka spoke, I 
felt his words as they caused a hot wind on my pussy. 
The manager translated, "He wants you to come and lick 
the sweat off her cunt and arse."

As I saw Gerry's feet walk past my head, I realised the 
instructions were for him; and I guessed Mr. Aioka must 
have now moved clear to allow him access to do the 
licking. A tongue touched my pussy lips, and even if I 
hadn't seen Gerry's feet or heard Mr. Aioka's 
instruction, I'd have known this was my Gerry. Even 
with, or maybe more so, because of all these men 
watching, my reaction was spontaneous.

I began humping, as Gerry licked. His licking started 
as you might expect, awkward, and unwilling. But as I 
humped and pushed my pussy into his face, he, like me, 
just began to get aroused. So much so, as the manager 
called, "Ok, that's enough."

Gerry carried on oblivious to any voices. But on the 
second telling, two men took hold of his shoulders, and 
as soon as Gerry realised, he was on his feet and out 
of the way.

I expected Mr. Aioka to make his presence known by 
ramming his cock into my pussy, and this was by now in 
my state of arousal, I'm ashamed to say, what I 
actually needed to happen. But it seems just when you 
think you know what will happen next; something new 
comes up to surprise you.

"WHACK!"

A pain stung its way from my pussy lips, and as I let 
out a yell, my body automatically recoiled. I guess I 
must have closed my legs, because the next thing, there 
were hands pulling at each knee, spreading me open 
again. Then, "WHACK!"

Again I yelled, but the hands held my legs tightly.

I heard Gerry's voice, "What's he hitting her for?"

"He wants to."

"But she's doing what she's been told to do?"

"So? If Mr. Aioka wants to slap her around a bit, he'll 
slap her. Think yourself lucky he isn't using a stick."

The slapping went on for what seemed like an age, but I 
guess was only maybe five or so minutes. I'd already 
given up my yelling as each slap had landed, it was as 
though now my body was expecting the pain, although not 
immune to it, it just couldn't see the point in wasting 
even more energy shouting about it.

But never the less, I was glad when he stopped, and as 
I waited for my next surprise, I was so glad to feel 
his cock as it pushed up into my wet pussy lips. I 
heaved myself back onto him, and although he rammed me 
in a violent manner, his cock wasn't as big as Gerry's, 
in either length or thickness, and for all his violent 
ramming, I thought he would have difficulty in bringing 
me to what I now consider to be an orgasm. But he'd 
only been fucking less than a minute before he was 
giving more instructions.

The manager then said, "Get down there and fuck her 
face."

In seconds, I could see it was Gerry who was on his 
knees in front of me, and he was more than just 
aroused, his cock was rampant. I can't say I was any 
less eager than Gerry, and as he presented his cock, I 
first sucked, and then rolled my head back, allowing 
him full access to my throat. So with Gerry fucking one 
end, and the little Jap at the other, they did take me 
to a gusher, even if not a wild out of body type. 

Once the Jap had spent his ardour, he pulled out, and 
Gerry was instantly pulled up to his feet, before he 
had time to shoot his cum. They dragged Gerry off in 
one direction, and I was carried in another direction, 
my pussy still in spasm, and oozing cum.

When they put me down on the floor of this room, I 
realised I was in a bath/shower room, and they just 
walked out leaving me there. I gradually recovered my 
senses, and proceeded to shower. Making sure I didn't 
get my hair wet, and trying not to make my already 
somewhat spoilt make-up any worse. Then as I stepped 
out from the shower and began to dry myself, two girls 
appeared and immediately began to make sure I was once 
again presentable to be seen in public. But, of course, 
I hadn't got any clothes to wear; I'd torn my dress up 
to make bandages.

This was not a problem, as the girls had also brought 
with them a new, and even more glamorous ball gown than 
the one I'd been wearing. And, thankfully, the 
underwear to go with it. Once I was dressed and ready, 
they opened the door and I was shown out into a 
hallway. To my delight, Gerry was already out there 
waiting, and he was also in new clothes. A man who we'd 
never before met, ushered us to the lift, and then 
guided us back to the ballroom, and pointed our way to 
our table.

As he turned and left us standing there, Gerry asked, 
"Are you alright?"

"Yes. What about you? How's your leg?"

"They got a doctor to dress it for me, its nothing 
really."

"Oh my god Gerry. I thought they were going to cut it 
off."

"Yeh, so did I. I think we got out of there lightly, 
they looked like they would have actually killed us."

"Let's go straight home."

"Oh my god Mary! We've just gone through all that, and 
now its time to make a bit of money out of it, you want 
to go home."

"But this place frightens me."

"Well I'll admit, they frightened me while we were up 
there, but we're down here now, and they can hardly do 
anything with all these people around. Anyway, now 
we've done what that dirty sod wanted, he won't be 
interested in us any more, and we'd be silly to miss 
out on the five hundred quid. That manager said it's 
yours for the taking."

"I couldn't dance now. My legs are like jelly."

"Let's go to the bar and get a stiff drink, that'll 
make you feel better."

"No I couldn't. You go to the bar; I'll go back to the 
table and wait for you."

I didn't expect him to take me up on my offer, I 
thought he'd just take me home, but I guess men are 
men, and although I love my Gerry, he isn't even a good 
example of what a man should be. So as he turned and 
headed for the bar, he said, "I won't be long; I'll 
just have a swift double."

I made my way back to the table, and I'd only been 
seated for a few seconds, when, "Hi, can I sit down?"

There was Trav, and for some reason I just felt I 
wanted to be in his arms. I knew I couldn't do that, 
not here on the edge of the dance floor, but as the 
next best thing was to have him sitting next to me, I 
said, "Oh yes please."

As he sat, he asked, "Are you alright? You look 
frightened."

"Oh take no notice. I guess its just nerves."

"You look fabulous in that dress, were gonna knock 'em 
dead when we get on the floor."

"Oh Trav, I'm sorry, but I can't get up there again."

"Why ever not? You can't be that nervous. Think about 
the money."

"I'm sorry. I know I'm letting you down."

"You're not letting me down, all the money goes to you. 
It's just such a shame if you don't go through with it. 
Everybody's talking about you. They all want to know if 
you've come from abroad. They know you're not off the 
UK dance circuit."

Just then the announcer came over the speakers, "Ladies 
and gentlemen. Were pleased to announce it's time for 
the grand finale of tonight's Latin American dance 
competition. As you all know, we're down to two 
finalists."

At this point the spotlight illuminated our table, "We 
have couple number twelve."

He paused, and Trav said, "They're waiting for us to 
stand and take a bow."

He got to his feet and offered me his hand, I took it, 
and as I stood next to him, we both bowed. 

The spotlight then left us, and as it picked out the 
other couple, and the announcer carried on his 
introductions, Trav said, "You're up now, come on, just 
give it a try."

"I don't think I can, my feet feel like lead."

I'd hardly got the words from my mouth, when the 
spotlight again illuminated us.

"So without more ado. Let's have couple number twelve 
on the floor."

The band started, and Trav took hold of me. Then as he 
led, our bodies pressed closely to each other, my leg 
just stepped back, and we were off. It was a bizarre 
experience, I don't think I was even conscious of what 
dance we were doing, but as if on auto-pilot, I just 
stepped my way around the floor. I think our session 
was some ten or more minutes, but it seemed to me we'd 
hardly been once around the room before we were taking 
our bows, and I was being walked back to our table to 
the sound of deafening applause.

As we sat at our table, the other couple were gliding 
their way around, and Gerry arrived back from the bar.

"You'd have beaten them with or without that dirty 
little Jap's help."

Gerry had obviously had more than just the one double 
he'd said he was going to have, and I didn't want what 
had happened up stairs to be public knowledge, or even 
someone like Trav to know about it.

"Gerry! Shut up! Don't go telling everyone."

He put his finger up to his lips, and in a slurred 
voice said, "Shorry."

I took hold of his wrist and pulled him towards the 
seat next to me.

"Come and sit down, you're drunk."

"I suppose you'll be wanting to take this one home to 
show him your gratitude."

For a second I wondered what he meant, then I 
remembered Olaf, and for some reason I blushed bright 
red. By now the other couple had also finished their 
session, and right at this point with me all red faced 
and feeling very flustered, the spotlight again 
illuminated our table.

"And our winners tonight are couple number twelve. Its 
Mrs Mary Kendal, and its all the more of an achievement 
as she was dancing, not with a regular partner, but a 
house stand-in. So come on Mary, and collect your 
prize. Both Gerry and Trav helped me to my feet, and 
they almost had to push me to get me started across the 
floor. I collected my envelope, and hurriedly made my 
way back to the table. But before I'd arrived, the 
announcer was saying,

"Now one more time, can we see the winning couple show 
us all how it's done."

Trav met me half way, and again he took over, guiding 
me around, and me just dancing on auto-pilot. As soon 
as that dance was finished, and the spot light that had 
followed us back to our table had gone, I said to Trav, 
"I'm sorry about this, and I hope you don't think me 
rude, but I have to leave right now."

"Oh that is a shame. I was hoping we could maybe dance 
the rest of the evening away. But real dancing, none of 
that flashy stuff."

"Believe me, there is nothing I'd like better, but I 
have to go."

I could see he was disappointed, and I also felt I owed 
him something for the way he'd looked after me all 
evening, but he got to his feet and in a cold business 
like tone said. "Well thank you for a pleasant evening. 
And I hope madam has enjoyed herself."

With that he gave me a little bow, turned to Gerry and 
did the same, and then turned and left.

As he walked away, I said, "Oh shit! Now I've offended 
him. And I owe him so much."

It was supposed to be a secret thought going through my 
mind, but I'd spoken the words, and even with the band 
still playing for the dancers, Gerry had heard me.

"I'm surprised you didn't take him home to fuck him."

I ignored his crude remark, and as I rose to my feet, 
snapped, "I'm going."

Then I just began to walk out towards the exit; 
expecting him to follow. I didn't look behind me, until 
I'd reached the foyer. But when I did, there was no 
sign of Gerry following. Then one of the doormen 
approached, and I asked him to get our driver to bring 
the car round to pick me up. I had wondered how I'd 
describe which was our car and driver, as I had no idea 
what either of them looked like. But in the event, the 
doorman didn't need this information, and by the time 
I'd collected my coat from the cloak-room, my driver 
was standing in the foyer waiting for me. 

As I climbed into the car, he asked, "Are we waiting 
for Mr. Kendal?"

"No. If he wants to stop there getting drunk, that's 
his choice. Please take me home now."

So off we went, and I arrived home around one in the 
morning, and went to bed by myself. For some reason, I 
cried myself to sleep; my head full of the events, good 
and bad, spinning around until I dosed off.

I dreamt that night, and I'm sure you won't be 
surprised if I tell you Trav featured very strongly in 
my dreams. It wasn't, however, a dream of sex and lust, 
but more a romantic journey with him at my side, 
protecting and guiding me through some magical garden. 
The details are long since faded from my memory, and 
even at the time I first recalled them the next 
morning, didn't actually make sense. But I know I 
thought a lot about Trav in those next few days.

I think it is again time to make an intermission here. 
And as always, I will wait for any emails to see if you 
the reader would like to know what happens next. Thanks 
for reading, and please feel free to email me at 
Lord_John_Thomas@hotmail.com 

It is only the feedback from readers that make the 
effort of writing worthwhile, and I will answer all 
mail received (eventually). To ensure I accept your 
mail, make sure your mail has 'Story Feedback' as a 
subject, all other mail to this account is deleted as 
spam.

Continued in part 4...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 55