Wives And Lovers Ch 01

WARNING TO READERS - This is a long, rambling story and VERY British which has been divided into several parts for ease of editing and reading. The individual parts will make more sense if read in sequence as they follow straight on chronologically.

Most, but not all chapters contain some sexually explicit sections and the story has a strong theme of taboo family relationships and adultery which some readers may find disturbing and might wish to cease reading now.....

GF

*

Chapter One - Love and Marriage

I had not met any of Chrissy's family until that Easter Bank Holiday weekend and I have to admit that I was not looking forward to the encounter.

Chrissy and I had met in Mexico City almost six months before. She had been attending an international medical seminar representing the children's charity that she worked for as a consultant paediatrician. She was every man's dream, especially a man who was rapidly approach early middle age, was still single and had not had a relationship that lasted more than two days in over a year. She was young, amusing, outgoing, opinionated, a brilliant doctor and very, very sexy. Worse! I really enjoyed her company and wanted to spend time with her, lots of time!

My reasons for being in Mexico were less altruistic, I was working as a hack scriptwriter for a television production company who were filming sequences in the Chihuahuan desert for a long running blockbuster fantasy series. The work was easy, mostly re-writing tracts of storyline and script which were not working out on location; the money was extremely good and I got to travel all over Europe and Central America staying in the best hotels for free. Best of all it gave me a satisfactory excuse not to work on my latest novel, one which was acceptable to my agent as she owned a slice of everything I earned from the film company.

We were introduced to each other by a mutual acquaintance at a charity reception being held at the Palacio de Bellas Artes, and from the moment that our eyes met there was something special and dynamic between us. For the next hour we totally monopolized each other, utterly disregarding all of the other 300 guests becoming cocooned in a tiny private cosmos which excluded all others as we submerged ourselves in a crash course in mutual fascination.

Three hours later we were frantically tearing away each other's clothing in my hotel room in our urgent need to be naked together and satiate our uncontrollable sexual desire. We remained in that room for three days whilst we fucked ourselves to exhaustion, ignoring the insistent warbling of our cell phones and only emerging to take in the trays of steak and potatoes and bottles of red wine that were left outside the door periodically by the room service waiter.

On the fourth day, with aching bodies and bruised and chapped lips we agreed that it was time to re-enter the real world and spent an hour on our telephones trying to explain to our respective employers how we had lost three days incommunicado. In fact, being in Mexico it proved fairly simple to convince our concerned colleagues, who were unlikely to communicate with each other, that our absence was the result of an attack of the 'Montezuma's Revenge' which had the added bonus that nobody was going to press us for an immediate return to the workplace or ask for a detailed explanation. There would be no raised eyebrows as nobody was aware that we even knew each other.

We decided not to waste the extra time that our white lie had bought us and on Friday with paperwork and blood tests completed we were married and became Mr. Richard Augustus and Mrs/Dr. Christina Marie Felix, duly witnessed by two of Chrissy's amazed conference colleagues and two acquaintances from the British Embassy who had helped us with fast tracking the official paperwork. Having legally tied the knot we adjourned to a nearby bar where I stood everybody a round of drinks before Chrissy and I returned to my hotel room to resume consummating our union. I had never given any thought to getting married and it seemed as good an arrangement as any to me, but I guess that Chrissy probably felt a bit cheated out of the big family wedding with lots of guests in flouncy dresses and ridiculous hats. I secretly made a mental note to give her a proper wedding breakfast for her friends and relations when we got home to England even though it wasn't really my kind of thing.

Surprisingly, when she finally managed to get a connection on Skype to her mother in the UK that evening, my now mother-in-law Mrs. Margot Colbert seemed not at all disturbed by our revelation and was in fact full of warm congratulations and good wishes. Perhaps she was accustomed to her daughter's impulsive nature. There was no opportunity to interact with my new senior relation as the Skype connection was poor and peering over Chrissy's shoulder I got no more than an impression of a woman with a similar shaped face to my wife, lightish hair and horn-rimmed half spectacles before the video picture completely disintegrated. But she had seemed pleasant and had appeared to smile and wave at me in a friendly enough manner.

Chrissy's older sister, Gail was another matter altogether. Even with the volume of her laptop turned down low I could hear that the call was not going well and picked up high pitched cries of "You Fucking Idiot!", "Moron!" and "Who is this chancer...?" and other endearments of a similar ilk before I decided to take the coward's way out and retreated to hide in the bathroom until she had completed her familial conversations.

"Mummy was really thrilled and happy for us...I think she likes the idea of having an author for a son-in-law." Chrissy told me comfortingly when I finally emerged. "I told her to look you up on Google.. you are on Google aren't you?"

"I guess that one consenting vote out of two is better than none..." I commented a bit sheepishly. I only had one personal call to make, to my agent, and I wasn't looking forward to that either.

"Don't be put off by Gail...she will come around eventually..." She told me. "My sister can be a bit prickly at times." She paused and grinned, "Her husband Todd is a total arsehole and so she has bit of a down on the whole idea of marriage and men right now!"

"H-m-m-m-m," I mused, "What sort of family have I got into here? A mother who is only too pleased to see her daughter married to a total stranger because he is an author.... A sister-in-law who already hates me with a husband who is an arsehole...!"

"So tell me about your family then....I'll bet they are even stranger than mine..." Chrissy challenged grinning. If only she knew!

"No family! I am all alone in the world!" I sighed dramatically and tried to pull a face resembling a Greek tragedy mask. "The last survivor of the dead Felix clan!"

"Never mind my precious...." She cooed throwing her arms around my neck and dragging my lips down to hers. "You have me now.... And I have hundreds of relatives that you can share......"

For me it was a bonus that Chrissy was one of the few women I had met who had not heard of my eccentric Uncle Frederick, or his outrageous escapades which were always in the popular press in the 1980s and 1990s. Frederick had been one of the last of the dotty English globe trotting adventurers and had been my last surviving and only relation.

"Are all the women of the family as sex mad as you?" I chuckled as I felt her hand curling down to caress my penis through the opening in my bathrobe.

"Oh, much, much worse!" She laughed. "I have an aunt who has been married seven times... each time to a man younger than the last.... She just wears them out and gets a new one!"

"Is that what you have planned for me? The first in a long line of worn out husbands?"

"That remains to be seen, you seem to have some life left in you..." she chuckled evilly. Her caresses had triggered an almost instant erection which was already throbbing in the tight grip of her small fist. "I think that I am going to call this thing Lazarus...because it keeps coming back from the dead...."

"It is not dead but sleepeth..." I grinned.

"Don't argue with me....I'm a doctor remember...." She giggled. "I think that it needs artificial resuscitation..." Her hand began to pump steadily up and down my length... "Maybe I should begin with the kiss of life?"

I certainly wasn't going to argue with her reasoning.... I guessed correctly that it would be a room service dinner again that night.

*

Our impromptu conjugal bliss was short lived. Chrissy was due to fly out to Ethiopia for a six month assignment with a Save the Children mission on the Sunday. My film crew had already departed for Europe and I had promised to catch up with the team at Malta no later than Tuesday of the next week. It was a shit deal but our work schedules were inflexible and something that we both had to accept. Until we met both of us had been totally committed work-a-holics married to our careers... our personalities were not going to change overnight we just had to find a way to cope with our special form of bigamy, being married to each other and to our work.

Sex was going to be our major problem!

Now don't get me wrong, I was totally and devotedly committed to my new relationship with Chrissy from day one...but....I have ALWAYS been something of a sexual freewheeler. I adore women, all women, they are an obsession for me. I am one of those guys who cannot meet a woman of virtually any age without wondering what she is like in the sack and starting to calculate how long it will take me to get her there. I need sex....lots of sex...to constantly feed my over active libido. Being single and constantly flitting from one exotic location to the next has done nothing to convince me that monogamy is a better way of life than the casual sexual lifestyle that I have pursued enthusiastically since I was a teenager.

The saying 'Love them and leave them' is not so much a cliché for me as a way of life, except that love, real love has always been something of a mystery to me. I have loved women, lots of women but I don't think that I have even been 'In Love'. I don't really understand what that is. In the same vein I have never really been able to get to grips with the idea of monogamy or marriage and so the next few months were destined to be a voyage into the unknown...... 'To Boldly Go....' Etcetera, etcetera.

It is probably my casual approach to sex that has coloured my writing style and turned my rather mediocre thrillers into slightly racy potboilers which seem to creep slowly up the bestseller lists every year unexpectedly, surprising me and helping to make my agent a very rich woman.

Being apart for at least six months was not going to be easy for either of us. We had already worked out an intricate if rather naïve schedule where-by I could fly out to Addis Ababa between shoots or she could join me on Malta or Ibiza for a few days. I had built up enough Frequent Flyer Air Miles to keep us mobile for years. The truth was that a few days here and there was not going to be enough. It would buy us perhaps thirty nights together in hotels over the six months but we both knew that my libido would not be able to last out on such a drastically reduced sex diet for that amount of time. I was going to come up short by 150 nights that I could be having sex or at the very least enjoying female companionship.

I would be working in exotic and romantic locations, staying in plush hotel suites and associating with large numbers of beautiful women, many of whom would willingly fuck a camel for a speaking part in the script. I knew they would be almost impossible to resist and so did Chrissy but she seemed to understand and accept that!

I was not too sure about Chrissy's ability to hold out either. She was blessed with a fantastically high sexual appetite which was to my advantage when we were together but was going to make being apart difficult for her too and she would be working under emotionally stressful conditions with a team almost entirely composed of young athletic French and Italian male medics and like me she was accustomed to her sexual freedom. I was under no delusions that before we had met she took her physical pleasures where she found them and was not chauvinistic enough to condemn her for that just because she was a woman. It was after all the same lifestyle that I enjoyed.

It was unavoidable that we were going to find company and comfort elsewhere whilst apart but we were adult enough to realize that from the start and be able to deal with it as a side effect of having a long distance relationship. At least I hoped we were. I really did want to be married to Chrissy I couldn't think of anybody else that I would want to share my life with long term we just had to get through the next six months or so. She was the first woman that I had ever met that I wanted to wake-up beside for more than three consecutive mornings.

There had to be rules of course, but in the end we could only come up with one that stood any chance of working.... We simply just agreed not to discuss or talk about any extra marital adventures that either of us might undertake when we were apart or to ask each other questions about who we had been with and what we had done. We were like ostriches sticking our heads in the sand... what we didn't know about couldn't cause distress.

One way or another we did manage to get through the first six months. We met up whenever we could and holed up in hotels to shag each other senseless sometimes not even coming out of our room to eat and frequently only narrowly catching the flight out of the local airport when our brief spells of honeymoon ended and it was time to return to work. We managed to spend an idyllic five day break in Rome at Christmas. Chrissy was a little bit sad that her mother and sister could not join us for the festive break but I was secretly pleased... I was happy to have her to myself. Christmas in Rome was a lot of fun but the nights, and some afternoons, alone in our hotel suite were even better.

Chrissy was at least working in one place most of the time where-as I was moving about constantly, Malta, Italy, Ireland, Turkey, the Czech Republic, and even Nepal for a few days. Oddly I found it quite easy to resist returning to my former casual sexual circus whilst filming on location, I controlled my hormonal urges quite well and for once I wasn't shagging a different girl every night, well not EVERY night at least.

What proved to be more difficult was returning to my London flat in February when the on location film crew were stood down and resuming my alter-life as an author of pulp fiction. The most unnerving part of coming back to London was the thought of having to meet face to face with Gabby Rubens, my literary agent and make my excuses for my impulsive actions in Mexico.

Gabby had gone totally ape-shit when I telephoned her and told her about getting married not because we had a bit of an ongoing friends-with-benefits thing simmering away in the background, it would never have occurred to Gabby that our relationship might change, but because it completely screwed up her carefully composed and totally fictional publicity profile of me as the unmarried playboy author whose globe-trotting lifestyle mirrored that of his roistering fictional characters. It was all crap of course, total fantasy but it looked good on the dust wrapper beneath the Photo-shopped out of date portrait which made me look like a poor man's James Bond wearing a white dinner jacket with a smoking cigarette in my hand. She told me that it helped to sell books but I did draw the line at wearing that white tux to book signings at Waterstones, I was approaching forty and it made me look and feel like pratt.

She had cursed and screamed down the phone and threatened to sue me if I fucked up her publicity campaign for the new book and got me to promise to keep my marriage to Chrissy a secret until she was ready to release it to the press. She wouldn't sue me really...we had been close mates for too long and I made her too much money. At least I didn't think she would sue... she might if she thought it would be good publicity for my books... but I kept stum anyway! Gabby had been my agent and friend now for over fifteen years and had never let me down and taking her advice always paid off in the end. She was a brilliant business woman, was loved by the media and terrorized the publishers both sides of the Atlantic into getting the best deals for her clients.

My flight in from Ankara was an hour late and the cab from Heathrow finally dropped me off outside my St John's Wood flat in Grove End Road something after eleven o'clock.

I still thought of the apartment as 'mine', Chrissy had never been to the flat but I had lived there since I was twenty when Uncle Frederick had died and left me the bulk of his estate. As I needed a London base Chrissy and I had tentatively agreed that I should keep it on and we would look for a more suitable marital home in Surrey or Berkshire when she returned to the UK in the spring. The apartment is absolutely perfect for a single man, full time porter and housekeeping service, kitchen, lounge, bathroom and a single large bedroom. How many bedrooms does a man on his own need..... if you bring a girl home you don't expect her to sleep in the guest room and a male friend will camp on the sofa for the night if need be. As an added bonus I had a garage in a secluded mews just around the corner... a godsend as parking anywhere in Westminster is an expensive nightmare.

I let myself in, dumped my large stuff bag, my overnight bag and laptop case in the hall and went straight to the bathroom, stripped off and stepped under the cold shower for 10 seconds, dried off and brushed my teeth. The curtains were open with silver moonlight shining through and so I didn't need to put the lights on as I crossed the lounge, and tripped on something; a something that seemed to have wrapped itself around my ankle. I tugged it away... it was a bra.... an expensive black lace Fleur bra.... there was only one woman I knew that wore upmarket Fleur of England lingerie? The only person who had their own key to my apartment and a habit of just dropping their discarded clothes and leaving them scattered around the room for somebody else to pick up.

I pushed the double doors to the bedroom open and was greeted with as beautiful a sight as any man could want.

Sitting in the centre of my big king sized bed smiling at me was Gabby Rubens, one of my cream pure silk sheets pulled up to her chin and her dark hair spread out in a silken cascade across the plumped up pillows. The sheet had moulded to her body shape leaving very little to the imagination, the small hard points of her nipples pushing against the sheer silk dispelling all doubts that she was naked beneath the cover. Her laptop and spectacles were on the bed beside her, an indication that she had been in my bed for some time waiting for me to arrive home. If she was shocked or surprised that I was standing stark naked before her she gave no indication of it.

"Hello Gabby." I grinned. I should have known that she would be waiting to ambush me as soon as I got back.

"Well, Hi-ya han'some...." She chuckled doing her best Mae West impersonation. "I guess you are glad to see me...huh!" It was a corny old joke but she looked fantastic lying there the pink tip of her tongue lightly moving across her red upper lip and her shapely legs spread beneath the sheet, just the shadow of a darker triangle showing through the almost translucent silk, as sexy and desirable as when I had first let her seduce me fifteen years ago. Was it any surprise that my prick was standing up to greet her?

Gabby Rubens had been my agent, my best friend and occasional lover from the beginning of my writing career, and it was far from the first time that she had seen my erection.