Friday Night At The Club 1

Chris pulls the car into the narrow alleyway that runs behind the working man's club, drives a little way down and parks up switching the engine and lights off.

Turning to his wife Molly in the passenger seat, in the gloom he can just make out her expression, she's nervous for sure, but there is excitement too, and plenty of it.

It was only the second time that they'd done this but already it was the pinnacle of their combined desires.

"You alright?" Chris asks, turning more in his seat, offering a reassuring smile and reaching out for her hand, grasping, squeezing.

She nods, squeezing back, "Oh yeah...just a bit nervous like last time...but that will soon pass."

On hearing this Chris glances away out the windscreen ahead to a solitary splash of light that marks the emergency exit to the club...last time...had been amazing.

Turning back to her he moves in for a slow sensual kiss, their tender moment cut short by the sound of Molly's phone beginning to ring. Breaking away she reaches into her coat pocket, brings the phone out and answers.

"Hello?...yes I'm here now...alright...see you in a minute."

Ending the call she plants a soft kiss on her husband's lips, brief but meaningful, then begins to get out the car, the courtesy light fleetingly revealing a stocking clad leg as she does so.

Chris watches in silence as she gets out and closes the door. Molly, her heart thumping madly, makes her way down the dirty, litter strewn alley towards the dimly lit exit door, heels clicking on the cracked asphalt as she goes.

Although trembling with excitement at what she was about to do, the path to arriving in the position she now found herself had not been a smooth one. The journey began a month previously with a discovery that initially shocked her to the core, and would go on to completely change her relationship with Chris...ultimately strengthening their bond...and enriching their love life.

**

Two months earlier...

"Eh...you'll never guess what?" John asked, after wiping beer froth off his lips with the back of a hand, excitement clearly evident from his beaming expression.

"What." Terry, seated to his left says, then quickly follows it up with, "See I got it first time...go on then give us another...am on a roll tonight."

There's a murmur of half hearted chuckling through the little group of men that have just sat down together this friday night at their usual booth in, 'The George', working man's club.

Terry was the type who always tried to make a joke out of everything, and considering the news that John couldn't wait to share, he found this particular quip rather annoying but grinned impatiently in response anyway.

Leaning forward across the little table he motions for all three of his buddies to do the same, they exchange brief questioning glances with each other before leaning in so that all four are huddled together in secretive pose.

John has a quick look around to make sure nobody is nearby listening, then speaks in hushed tone his eyes alight with excitement.

"I've only gone and done it again..." John glances around his friends, pausing briefly, keeping the suspense going for effect, then continues, "...ave scored another one... this bird am doing a job for."

John's three friends immediately back off, straightening up amid disbelieving calls of, 'Yeah right.' And, 'Pull the other one.'

They'd heard this kind of thing from John before and didn't believe a word, he'd always been one who dabbled in fantasy and was prone to tall tales. A painter and decorater by trade, he'd worked in the profession all his life and now did the odd cash in hand job to supplement his pension, the guys might have believed he'd gotten lucky with a client now and then in the past but in recent years his tales of bedroom conquests were preceived to be flights of fancy, especially at his ripe old age of seventy one.

Pete, sat opposite John, takes a drink from his pint, and seeing an opportunity for fun asks his friend a question, "By scored John...what do yer mean exactly?...she made yer a cuppa of tea?"

At this the table erupts in laughter, causing a sting of anger for John, but the knowledge that he is telling the truth gives him the strength to ignore his friend's ridicule.

He waits patiently while the chuckles die away, then motions for his friends to come back, close up across the table again.

"You can laugh...but I know I'm telling the truth."

Seeing that he's determined to tell a tale, Ray, seated to John's right, and the oldest of the group at 80, encourages him to reveal all, "Go on then...we're listening."

John, after having another look about them, readily begins to tell his story.

"Well I got this new job couple of days ago...started on wednesday like...a young couple living up tranmore road...in their late twenties...Chris and his lass Molly...wanting some painting and papering doin...nowt heavy...it wer only gunna take a few days...anyway he's out all day at work so there's just me and this young bird in the house...well I knew straight away she were up for it like...kept giving me the eye yer know...oh you should see her...what a beauty...long ginger hair...and yeh...in case yer wondering she's a natural...big blue eyes...curvy figure...nice rack..."

John continues telling his version of events to his friends over the next half hour, going into some detail which, despite them all being over seventy and not believing a word, still causes stirrings down below...in every single one.

After revealing all, exciting as it was, John's anger and frustration returned, for apart from asking the odd question he was met with the same disbelieving glances from his friends, and the hot topic was quickly brushed aside by the usual politics and sports subjects.

The biggest frustration of all was that, although he'd exaggerated some of what happened between himself and Molly, he knew this one was very special, unlike the others.

Yes he'd had some fun when he was younger but most had been village bikes, young wives wanting a bit extra while hubby was at work, and in recent years, especially since he'd retired the fooling around had almost dried up altogether.

There was that bird up on the big estate last year, but she was in her fifties and they only did it twice, she got scared hubby would find out.

Most of the stuff he told to the guys these days was made up, snippets of old encounters he'd mashed together hoping they wouldn't notice, but they did and he knew it.

But now...talk about the boy who cried wolf.

When the night at the George was over, John, feeling worse for wear, half walked half staggered the quarter of a mile back home and crashed into bed next to his disabled wife Jean.

Despite the beer haze...images of Molly and the memory of what they'd done together earlier that afternoon filled John's mind...he drifts off to sleep with a smile etched upon his face.

**

For Molly however, things weren't quite as simple, at the same time John was drifting off to sleep she lay awake, filled with shame. Laying next to her sleeping hubby Chris in the darkness, guilt eating into her, she went over the events of that week in her mind...for the millionth time...

Meeting John initially on the monday evening at their home, Chris had previously been in touch with him by phone after a friend recommended him as a good decorator.

John had had a look around while Chris explained what they wanted, some painting work in the kitchen and papering in the lounge. He seemed like a normal friendly chap, very chatty, nothing out of the ordinary, just an old bloke with a beer belly.

Wednesday came around and Molly, a stay at home mum, had just arrived back home from walking Toby their six year old son to primary school, when John arrived.

Being quite shy in nature it was a whole different situation than monday evening, being in the house with John on her own, however, the guy came across as fine and friendly and she quickly got over her nerves.

Molly's new daytime companion proved to be quite the comedian, and John soon had her giggling. After a couple of hours together the pair had hit it off, building up a good rapport. Although he'd started on the kitchen first, Molly had to keep visiting this room due to her chore routine, washing up dirty dishes, seeing to the washing etc.

In the past when some tradesman had been working in the house, Molly would have avoided that room while they were there, only venturing in on the work's completion.

But with John it was different, she found herself drawn to him, something about the way he looked at her, spoke to her, the things he said, his common down to earth charm, she found herself actually making excuses up to go in the kitchen purely to engage with him.

Surprisingly, despite her good looks, Molly had very little experience with men. She and Chris were childhood sweethearts, they married at twenty and along came Toby a few years later. She'd had no other romantic partners and being the shy quiet type was quite naive in 'the ways of the world' so to speak, something which John had spotted immediately and set about exploiting for his own agenda.

At the end of that first day's work Molly still had no idea of John's motives, just finding him good company and a laugh, something which she happened to be craving.

Having the house to herself all day could be a little boring, Chris worked long hours in the IT department of a big company and although they spent time together on a weekend the weekdays were a trudge.

Then there was the marriage...

Yes she loved him dearly, yes they were happy, they both doted on Toby, financially secure, no worries there. But lately something seemed missing, it was like they were just going through the motions of everyday living, the spark hadn't exactly gone but it was diminishing.

John's appearance in her life couldn't have come at a worse period, or better, as time was to tell.

During the second day John's flirting went unnoticed once again, Molly mistaking his subtle advances for compliments and charm, although as a result she did find herself more attracted to him, not so much physically but in a 'making her feel good' way.

Then, on friday, it happened.

They'd been chatting away as usual, laughing and joking, this time in the living room where John was papering. Molly was telling him about Chris's last birthday, where they'd been to celebrate etc, she happened to mention that Chris had been given the birthday 'bumps' twenty nine times while at work and had come home with bruised arms.

"Honestly...for an important job they can be so childish at that place." She commented.

Always looking for an opportunity, John responded by asking if she had kissed him better, to which Molly replied yes and that she'd kissed him twenty nine times.

"That sounds very nice." John said while bent over brushing a recently hung piece of wallpaper, he then straightened up, looked straight at Molly grinning lasciviously and added, "I bet you're a good kisser Molly...aren't yer?"

Finally realising what John is after, Molly's heart leaped into her throat and she began to blush. Seeing her flush red only encouraged John and he kept going, "It's alright...no need to be shy with me lass...go on then...come over ere and give us a kiss...prove me right."

Molly looks down briefly, studying her cup of tea, feeling nervous...and surprisingly...excited too.

In that moment she is torn, one part of her is shocked and apprehensive...the other...

"Go on...come ere...nobody's gunna know."

Although John's words are placid, there is an underlying commanding tone which Molly finds irresistible. Looking up from the tea his eyes find hers and hold them, and all of a sudden she's placing the cup on the coffee table and standing up, walking over to him.

With her heart racing, excitement coursing through her veins with every beat, she feels his arms around her, his lips upon hers.

For a brief moment the kiss is soft and gentle, everything seems to stop and a dreamlike surreal atmosphere pervades, and then suddenly, like a switch has been thrown, she is consumed by passion.

Strong arms hold her tightly, and breath comes quickly through their noses, she feels his tongue slither into her mouth and doesn't resist, eagerly wriggling hers against his.

Lost in forbidden carnal delight, she wraps her arms around him, it's so wrong but feels so good. Breaking away John gazes down into her eyes, his breath is quickened and he wears an excited, determined expression, "Oh yeah...I thought so...as good as you look...ave been wanting to do that since I first laid eyes on yer."

John looks away, glancing around the room as though searching for someone, releasing his hug on Molly he then takes her by the hand and begins leading her out the room, "C'mon...let's go upstairs."

His words go unchallenged and Molly allows herself to be led, off up to the bedroom...and the bed she currently lays awake in...the marital bed now defiled... along with her.

'What were you thinking?!' A voice from within angrily enquires. The fact of the matter was she didn't think, caught out and forced into a spur of the moment decision, but why choose to do what she'd done?

Laying there in the gloom, Molly tried hard to block out the thoughts and feelings that were produced from addressing this question, afraid of the answers. After what she'd done that afternoon she was almost sick with worry, and indeed looked so flustered that upon returning home from work earlier in the evening Chris had remarked on her appearance, enquiring with concern regarding his wife's health.

Molly, learning to tell big lies to her hubby for the first time ever, passed it off as something she'd eaten.

It was going to be a long night for Molly, the guilt keeping her awake until the wee small hours, but eventually she succumbed to mental and emotional exhaustion, falling into a mercifully dreamless sleep.

**

The next day, Molly went through the motions of ordinary suburban family life, trying to ignore the huge burden which now rested upon her moral shoulders.

She had cheated on her husband, something previously unimaginable, and so out of character for Molly. It had happened so fast too, one minute she was just chatting away with John like normal and the next she was in his arms.

For the rest of the weekend Molly struggled with her conscience, all the while aware of something lurking at the back of her mind, something which she was trying hard to ignore.

On Sunday night, and with the knowledge of John's looming return the next morning consuming her thoughts, Molly finally began to acknowledge a truth, no matter how bitter the pill was to swallow.

Laying there in the dark next to a sleeping Chris, she faced her demons.

The fact was that Molly had been in denial, yes she'd betrayed her husband whom she was madly in love with and yes she'd felt terrible about it, but as John was exploring her body in the bedroom...and then later...while fucking her in this very bed, she had experienced an intense level of excitement the likes of which she hadn't encountered before.

There were numerous reasons as to why this happened, the thrill of being desired by another man for sure, but there was something else, something dark and twisted which she was only now daring to admit to herself. Initially it had been the commanding tone with which John spoke to her, and then later in the bedroom, John took control of Molly...ultimately using her...and she had loved it.

Chris was a meek and mild guy, always a considerate lover, but John was the opposite, handling her roughly, compared with Chris of course. He smacked her bottom and pulled her hair, cursed too, which was something Chris didn't do.

Added to this was John's age, she'd allowed a man forty two years her senior to, 'have his way' with her, which generated it's own special variety of thrill. Finally, Molly focused her recollection of the experience on John's, 'thing'.

It was bigger than Chris's and he was not circumcised...and...it had felt...it had felt?...what?...different?

No, it was time to stop denying things, it had felt better. John had made her moan, and curse, and tremble.

After immersing herself in the memory of what happened friday afternoon, Molly was so aroused that it was all she could do to refrain from touching herself.

In the end, she went back to worrying about tomorrow and John's planned visit to finish off the papering. What would she do? The right thing and tell him to leave? Or perhaps lock the door and pretend she wasn't in? Either would be the right thing.

However, Molly had never faced temptation like this before, and as she drifted off to sleep...imagining doing the right thing seemed to elude her.

**

Driving up tranmore road, John pulled over to the kerb outside number 30 and switched off the engine, glancing out his door window as he did so. A movement briefly caught his eye, the net curtains of the lounge window twitching, maybe, he couldn't be sure, and what did it matter?

Because John only had one thing on his mind this fine monday morning, and that thing was about 5'4", maybe 130lbs, 3 or 4 of that just pure tit, beautiful chestnut hair upstairs and down, and oh boy did she make a nice noise, oh yeah, good old John had got her singing alright, and he intended to again.

It was fair to say that Molly, his new tart, had been at the forefront of John's mind all weekend, and he was rather keen to see her.

Getting out the van and locking up before strolling down the garden path whistling happily to himself, he knocks on the door and waits...nothing.

Ceasing the tune and trying to listen for signs of life within, only to be thwarted by a noisy motorbike going past just as he's doing it, John knocks again this time louder, leaning in closer to the door and listening once more.

Bizarrely, a scene from the shining flashes up from the murky depths of his memory, Jack Nicholson leant against a door grinning insanely while knocking...little pigs...little pigs...let me come in...

But why that image? Was his subconscious mind trying to tell him that he was the bad guy? So what if he was? The fact this one was married mattered little to him. Most of John's past conquests, as he liked to think of them, had been married, the knowledge that he was getting one over on an oblivious hubby only added to the thrill.

Still no sign of life, perhaps Molly hadn't returned from the school run yet, looking around there were a few 'yummy mummy's' strolling down the pavement, some wheeling pushchairs before them.

He decided to give it one last try and then wait in the van for a while, he'd waited all weekend so he could wait a little while longer. This time however, after knocking there came the subtle sound of footfalls approaching the door, and seconds later it's opened to reveal the gorgeous sight of young Molly, with her cute little nose, lightly freckled face and beautiful blue eyes.

She's not exactly dressed in a sexy manner, her drab clothing of jeans and t-shirt completely in contrast with such a pretty face, but John acknowledges that she's probably just got back from taking Toby to school so it's irrelevant, for now.

Molly smiles and briefly makes eye contact while inviting him in, John notes that she looks nervous and seems agitated about something.

Once inside with the door closed, Molly makes to go past John in the narrow hallway while speaking, "Erm...John I need to talk to you ab..." But her quiet, hesitant words are cut short by John's next actions and a question.

Grasping hold of her arm to stop her, he glances off down the hallway, cautiously asking, "Are we alone?"

Molly turns to look up at him, nodding, her throat working, she looks almost frightened.