February
Ironically, it was Valentines Day when my relationship with Suzy changed for ever. The day set aside for us all to express our undying love and faithfulness to each other was the day I found out about her infidelity.
I'd taken the afternoon off work without her knowing and returned to our flat to prepare a surprise. We were saving for a deposit to buy our own place and had cut out virtually every luxury and extravagance to save money. Saturday nights with friends were limited to a couple of cheap drinks, there were no take-aways or meals out. We'd given up gym memberships and Netflix, and even the car had been sold - it was cheaper to cycle or walk or use public transport. Tonight, I was going to spoil her with a romantic, candlelit, home cooked dinner. Nothing fancy, but enough to show that I cared. That I loved her.
We'd met at Uni, four years previously. She'd walked into the college bar, and I'd fancied her instantly. The first thing you noticed about Suzy was her haircut. She had a perfectly straight fringe across her forehead and light brown hair that fell down to her shoulders before being equally straight cut around the back. The second thing you noticed was her size. Suzy wasn't tiny, but she wasn't tall either; she was athletically thin and flat chested (AA-cup bee stings, I found out later) and looked far younger than she actually was, forever been asked for ID when we went clubbing. This particular night, the third thing you noticed were her legs - she was wearing a purple and red flowery strappy sundress with black tights and Dr Marten boots. She wasn't perfect - there was something slightly odd about her thin lips which some people found unattractive - but I thought she was beautiful. She had large green eyes which were always lined with mascara in a gothy sort of way, and subtle, carefully applied make up. I think we'd been going out for four months before I saw her without any makeup on at all, the first night I was allowed to stay in her dorm room.
I'd pursued her for months after that first meeting and had to watch her with a string of dickhead boyfriends before we got together. From our very first night together, there was an electricity between us. The sex was fantastic. Neither of us were virgins but we were both relatively inexperienced and I was amazed that she came just about every time we fucked. We pushed each other's boundaries. Our first sex was always in the missionary position and used a condom, but Suzy quickly went on the pill because she wanted to feel me cum inside her. We experimented with positions (doggy, standing, cowgirl) and quickly progressed onto anal, blowjobs and cunnilingus, which both of us enjoyed more than we thought we would. There was light bondage and outdoor sex, sexy underwear, facials and swallowing and cum on her tits as well as in her pussy and, if I was a lucky boy, up her arse.
And it wasn't just the sex. We shared a love of live music and going to gigs (although on one memorable occasion the two combined when she stood in front of me in the middle of a crowded gig and wanked me off until I came on the back of her skirt), Sci-fi and fantasy books, and rugby (I played on the wing, she liked watching large muscly men grapple with each other in the mud).
University ended. We got jobs in the same city, rented a one bedroomed flat and began to save for our future life together... which brings us back to Valentines Day.
I had the flat looking great. I'd cleaned and tidied, cooked and lit candles. There was a romantic playlist playing in the background. As I heard Suzy's key turn in the door, I poured her a glass of white wine from the bottle I'd had chilling all afternoon and waited until she'd taken her coat and shoes off in the tiny hallway and entered the living room.
"Happy Valentines Day!" I grinned.
Suzy's response was underwhelming to say the least.
"Oh," she said simply, looking around the room. "You... you shouldn't have..." In retrospect, she looked weary. Tired. Even a little teary. But I'd invested a lot in this endeavour and wasn't going to be deterred. I put the glass down and moved in towards her, pulling her to me for what I hoped would be the passionate embrace which would lead to erotic, pre-dinner sex of some description. I kissed her but she didn't respond in the way I expected - there was a reluctance to engage. I ploughed on, reaching down to place my hand under her skirt, running it up her thigh towards her arse.
"Please, Chris... not now.... Please... I need to freshen up...." She put her hand on my chest and tried to push me away. My hand reached her arse and I realised there was something missing: I couldn't feel the outline of her knickers beneath her tights. I squeezed her arse cheek and felt around some more - definitely no knickers!
"Oooh, is someone feeling naughty?" I asked, ignoring all the evidence to the contrary.
"Chris... no... GET OFF ME!"
She pushed me again, but I was so much bigger than her that it had little effect. Beginning to sense that something wasn't quite right, I released her unexpectedly just as she pushed once more. I'm not sure what happened next - our arms tangled somehow, she lost balance and toppled backwards onto the floor. There were two thuds, one as her bum hit the floor, another softer one as her head hit the carpet!
"Fuck!!!" she shouted, raising her hands to the back of her head, rubbing it and screwing up her eyes in pain.
I stood motionless for a few seconds, wondering what the hell had just happened before my eyes were drawn towards the place where her skirt had ridden up around her waist to reveal, through the sheer material of her pantyhose, her vagina.
Her shaven vagina.
Her wet, open, and obviously well used vagina.
Her wet, cum filled vagina.
Her wet, aroused vagina, clearly visible through the crusted, cum stained gusset of her tights.
Even as I watched, a glob of spunk oozed out of her cunt and joined the large amount of jizz already smeared there.
"What the fuck are you..." she started saying as she opened her eyes, still lying on the floor, legs akimbo, rubbing her head, before she saw what I was staring at. What little colour she had left in her face drained away. "Shit," she muttered, sitting up and trying to cover herself.
"Suzy... what...." She levered herself up from the floor but refused to make eye contact.
"Leave me ALONE!" she shouted, bursting into tears and running into the bedroom.
For a minute or two, I simply stood in the middle of the living room wondering what the hell was going on. Eventually, I blew out the candles and knocked on the bedroom door. When there was no answer, I opened it and went inside.
Suzy was sat on the floor at the end of the bed. Her knees were pulled up and her arms were wrapped around them. I couldn't see her face (her forehead was resting on her knees) but I could tell she was crying - gentle, silent sobs were making her body shake. The way she was sitting had made her skirt fall towards her waist, exposing her pantyhose clad thighs. From my position by the door, and I didn't dare move closer in case I spooked her,
"Suzy?"
No answer.
"Suze... what's going on?"
"Go away!" came the muffled, despondent reply.
I waited for a few seconds, not knowing what to say or do.
"Suze? Are you... are you having an affair?"
"No," she muttered with a shake of the head.
"But... have you... had sex today?"
A pause. "Yes." She still hadn't looked up at me. "I'm so sorry!" More sobs.
"Who... err... who with?"
This time she did look up. Her pleading eyes were full of tears, her mascara smeared. She seemed to be trying to say something but didn't know how to say it, what words to use. Her brow furrowed slightly until she wailed "I DON'T KNOW!" and put her face back down between her knees. My patience snapped.
"You don't know?" I asked incredulously. "You fuck some bloke on Valentines Day, come home with his spunk dripping out of your cunt and you don't know who he was?"
