It's tough to get good health care in my line of work. I'm a thief. A good thief, but still a thief. My speciality: armed robbery.
The first problem is that if you carry a gun then you gotta be prepared to use it. The second problem is that if you use your's, someone else might use their's!
That was what led me to the good graces of Dr. Jenkins, a drunken, shamed physician who I swear poured more of the whisky down his throat than he did over the gaping wound in my chest. I can still feel the excruciating pain as he fumbled about inside the ragged hole, eventually extricating the .357 slug with slurred triumph.
How did I get into this predicament? Let me tell you!
The bank job was actually Ray Dalton's idea. Dalton: gambler, womaniser and, until recently, the partner in crime of yours truly, Jack Summers. We had planned and executed that last job with our usual precision, hitting the bank just at closing time. The place was empty and none of the staff gave us any problems at all. The whole thing went like clockwork and Ray and I soon found ourselves in a dark alley preparing to split the proceeds.
Ray had been acting a little oddly all day. He was highly animated and much more excited than usual. I soon found out why.
"That's fifty for you and fifty for me, Ray." I said breathlessly as I counted out the cash. "Good job, my friend!"
"Actually, Jack, I think I'll take the whole hundred grand if that's okay!"
I was confused and looked up to see my partner and so-called friend pointing the business end of his pistol at me. There was a half smile on his face; the last thing I remember seeing before hearing the retort of the weapon like an explosion and feeling the full force of the shot as it hit me in the chest.
It had taken me six long weeks to get on my feet again. I guess if the shot had been an inch to the left or right it would have finished me for good. I suppose I should have felt lucky, but somehow good fortune didn't figure too highly on my list of priorities!
As usual, on waking, the first thing that hit me was the pain in my chest. I checked my reflection in the mirror and examined again the ragged stitching that was the result of Doc Jenkins inebriated handiwork.
Carefully I pulled on my shirt, wincing at the sharp pains that shot like bolts of electricity through my ravaged body. There were two things that kept me going: revenge on Ray Dalton and the thought of seeing my beautiful blonde wife Wendy again.
It was strange that Wendy hadn't been in touch - actually nobody had - but then I had kept a low profile, as far as the rest of the world was concerned Jack Summers was dead!
But now I had work to do. I had big plans for Mr. Dalton, but those could wait. The first thing I wanted to do was see Wendy and let her know I was all right. I guessed that she must have been going out of her mind with worry.
The small, rented apartment must also have been the work of Doc Jenkins, I thought as I looked around for what I hoped was the last time. It was the type of place where he would have felt most comfortable; quiet and basic and built above a bar. But it wasn't my idea of home. I wanted to return to my loving wife. And the sooner the better.
In the bustling street outside the air was warm and filled with traffic noise and people going about their normal business. Nobody paid any attention to me as I walked, taking slow but steady steps in an effort to reduce the discomfort. A few people brushed up against me as if they hadn't seen me and this renewed the pain in my chest.
I had estimated that the walk to my house would take only thirty minutes. In the event it actually took nearer forty-five as I found myself stopping every few minutes to catch my breath. But eventually I made it and, with a proud feeling of achievement, I found myself looking up at the large, luxury home that years of unlawful behaviour had provided.
It suddenly occurred to me that I didn't have a key to let myself in. I could see Wendy's Mercedes parked in the drive and I was on the point of knocking when I thought it might be fun to surprise her with my return.
As I made my way painfully around to the back of the house, the garden looked different somehow; a little overgrown and unkempt. The colours that had always provided me with such pleasure seemed dull and faded even in the late afternoon sunshine. But I paid little attention. I was too excited. I Was about to see Wendy again.
The door creaked as I entered the kitchen quietly. My heart was beating fast causing my chest to ache painfully. I smiled as I heard the familiar light hearted laugh of my wife coming from the next room. The door was slightly ajar but as I went to open it and make my grand entrance, I heard something else that stopped me dead in my tracks.
The second, male voice, was also familiar. Dalton! What the hell was that bastard doing here, I thought? He and Wendy were laughing together as if they didn't have a care in the world. I wanted to burst through the door and attack him there and then. Strangle him or stab him and leave him for dead as he had left me. But my body refused to co-operate; my legs remained fixed to the spot by some unseen force and all I seemed able to do was to open the door just a crack and peer through. Not only were Dalton and Wendy laughing, but they were now engaged in a lustful embrace. My whole body seemed to shake with the injustice of it all. How could Wendy do this to me, I silently asked? I would have expected this behaviour of Dalton, but never of her. I sank to my knees silently. I wanted to turn away and throw up, but the unseen force kept my gaze from faltering.
Dalton's hand was on my wife's thigh as they kissed deeply. The house was warm and Wendy wore only a thin, summer dress that covered little of her lithe, sensual body. Her legs looked long and tanned and the halter covered only about half of the breasts as they swelled from the low neckline.
I watched them as Wendy's head fell back exposing her slender, swan-like neck and Dalton's lips pecked gently at the soft skin. His tongue extended and licked the smooth creamy flesh and my stomach revolted again, turning over with sickening lurches. Why I was not able to stop this display of infidelity I couldn't begin to comprehend. Usually I would have been straight through the door, kicking and screaming at the pair of them, but there was something that I couldn't understand; something that stopped me and forced me to continue watching.
I had managed to stand again now, but my eyes were still fixed to the scene before me as I observed the debauched behaviour of my wife through the crack in the door. Dalton's hands were now all over her; pulling the hem of her short dress up and stroking her urgently through the thin material of her panties. His other hand had found her breasts over the dress and were squeezing and manipulating the heaving globes as Wendy murmured words of obvious encouragement.
Wendy's quiet moans quickly became more stringent as Dalton's hands aroused her. I could hear her breathing becoming shorter and more ragged as my nemesis eased down her panties and inserted a finger into what was clearly a very moist pussy.
Dalton began to finger my wife quickly and expertly as she stood, feet apart, in front of him. Her hands went behind his head and pulled his lips back to her neck. I could see his finger flash in and out of her pussy as he finger-fucked her closer and closer to orgasm.
Wendy suddenly let out a long low moan. Her lower body trembled, her legs like jelly as she climaxed on her lovers finger. I noticed with some jealousy that she had completely shaved the hair from her mound and it was easy to see the moisture that clung to Daltons finger as he finally withdrew.
Apparently eager to return the compliment, Wendy now squatted in front of my sworn enemy. Her fingers fumbled for a moment at his belt, but I, and he, knew exactly what was coming next.
With clearly trembling fingers, my wife opened her lovers pants and withdrew his stiff, angry looking member. For a moment she held the inflamed weapon in her hand, admiring it lovingly and stroking the turgid flesh. Dalton moaned deep in his throat as she gently encouraged him towards her open and clearly willing mouth. I heard him gasp as he entered the warm, wet cavern, his hands resting on the back of her head and gently pulling her towards him.
Wendy fellated him expertly. Her mouth opened wide to accept his wide girth and I heard her gag slightly as she allowed him to enter her tight throat. For Dalton's part he was clearly revelling in the attention being bestowed upon him. He leaned back with a luxuriant expression on his face. His eyes closed gratefully as his entire member was swallowed by my wife's greedy mouth. Her fingers played wistfully with his tight, heavy balls stroking the twin sacs tenderly as he swelled in her mouth. I watched as she slipped a finger between his legs and tickled seductively at the man's anus.
"Oh, shit baby!" Dalton cried, "that feels so good!"
With her mouth so completely full of his tool, Wendy was in no position to speak but the sigh that escaped her lips told me that she was happy enough to please him.
Slowly, Dalton began to rock his hips back and forth as his fingers tensed and entwined in Wendy's hair, gripping the blonde tresses. He held her head steady while he fucked himself deep into her throat, groaning lustfully with each downward thrust.
But the sensations were soon to cease. With a look of quiet composure, Wendy extricated herself, while somewhat reluctantly, from Dalton's solid length and looked up at her lover.
"Don't cum yet, baby," she whispered, "I want you to fuck me hard!"
"My pleasure, darling!" replied Dalton with a smile, "I thought you'd never ask!"
Helping my wife up to her feet, Dalton stood back to admire the view. While still wearing her dress, Wendy was an absolute picture of lust. But the dress wasn't to last long.
