The following story is true. It happened some 20 years ago in Liverpool, England. To protect the innocent and not-so-innocent, names of people and places have been changed and the action brought up to date. Bon appetit!
The marriage had been going down hill for a few months. I knew it - Angela knew it. Some of our friends and family knew it. So when the split came nobody was too shocked . The fact that the final split was caused by me walking into our bedroom and finding my wife getting royally fucked by a guy I used to think of as my friend, was perhaps the only shock.
I pulled them apart, gave him a couple of quick rabbit punches followed by a haymaker to the nose. As he scampered down the stairs I stared at my wife. Her legs still wide open, pussy lips red and swollen, cunt hair wet and sticky. My dick was starting to harden, but I was still angry. I slapped her, turned and left the marriage home.
For the next three weeks or so I was incommunicado. Nobody could get hold of me. My mobile was switched off, I took a sabbatical from my job as a doorman at Peroni's Nightclub, and moved in with my friend and co-doorman Tony.
The days were spent sunbathing in Tony's garden, and at night while Tony was at Peroni's I would surf the internet, watch some porn or football on the box and get through the better part of a bottle of vodka. After three weeks of this I was bored. I needed to be back at work, back at the club. I also needed to get laid! I called Alex, the club manager and told him I was coming back in that evening.
Peroni's was the third nightclub I had worked the door for - but it was by far the best. Targeted at a slightly older and more affluent clientele it attracted people from all parts of the city. During The Grand National race meeting we would get a whole slew of celebrities looking for somewhere to splash their winnings. (One year I ended the night in the back of a hired limousine going down on a member of a famous girl band - but that's another story for later in the alphabet). But for most of the year it was normal, very attractive local non-famous people.
Like Julie.
Julie was a tall, well-built, red-haired solicitor; friend with most of the girls behind the bar, and well known to all the regulars. She was an excellent dancer and one of the hottest flirts around. The amount of times she had 'accidentally' backed in to my crotch...well I'd lost count.
On my first night back at work after my break Julie was one of the first in.
" Heard about you and your wife," she said before even greeting me hello.
" Yeah, well..." I shrugged.
" If you ever get lonely...." she let the sentence dangle in the air, licked her lips outrageously and sashayed off into the club. I watched her disappear and then turned to see the other guys on the door staring at me.
" What?"
"She wants you Kenny. She wants you so bad she's almost dripping," said Barney.
I shook my head. " She's a prick tease guys - always has been."
From the look on their faces I could tell they didn't believe it. And I got to thinking. Would Julie go further? Could I tempt her? I decided to try and find her during my midnight break. Maybe I could get a little action.
Two hours later, with the witching hour approaching, I took my break. Instead of heading up to the restaurant kitchen where I usually spent my break talking football with Graeme the chef I headed toward the dance floor, my eyes searching for Julie. I saw her almost instantly - her red-hair flashing above the rest of the bottle-blond tresses of the other women.
I caught her eye and hooked a finger in the classic 'come-here' motion. She pointed at herself, mouthed the word 'me?' with a small smile on her face.
I nodded.
She came over.
