It was becoming dusk when my car slowed to an inevitable standstill. The air around us was muggy and warm, the faint sound of Reggae music drifting down from some tower block party. We had, ourselves, been heading for a party of certainly more salubrious design than the one that we could currently hear, but a wrong turn somewhere in the city had brought us to this part of town and our current engine problems - whatever they were - seemed to ensure that we were to stay here for some time. I closed my eyes and awaited my wife's verbal onslaught. When it came it was no less vitriolic than I had expected.
"What the fuck's wrong now?" she almost shouted at me, her eyes full of anger and scorn, "can't you do anything right?" It had been the same for years: whenever anything went wrong it was always my fault. Having said that, it usually was. I can be rather inept and clumsy and the more nervous I get the worse my ineptitude becomes and Samantha, my bitch of a wife, never misses an opportunity to belittle or humiliate me. She usually waits until we are in company to ensure that my humiliation is at a maximum. Over the years, however, I have become used to these verbal and occasionally physical assaults and, strangely, can now take a certain pleasure from my degradation.
"Sorry, dear. I think it might be the fuel pump or something. I did ask the garage to fix it earlier this week, but I guess they just forgot." I sighed, "I suppose I'd better call the rescue service."
"Damn right you'd better call! Christ! You are completely useless! Now I'm stuck here in this godforsaken part of town when I could be enjoying drinks with my friends." Samantha lapsed into a sulky silence.
I looked out of the window. She was right about one thing, this part of the city was not at all familiar to me and did indeed look a little insecure. The streets were virtually empty and now almost dark. All the stores were closed and further illegal admittance was barred by heavy metal grates that covered their frontage. I pulled my cell phone from my inside pocket and looked at the display. Damn. I closed my eyes again and sighed.
"I..I..I'm sorry dear, but there does not seem to be a signal here." Sam's eyes turned heavenward in an exasperated expression but kept her sullen silence. Her arms were folded under her large chest in a defiant manner, pushing her breasts up into the low cut top of her cocktail dress and thus forming a deep, inviting cleavage. I could feel my small penis developing into an erection and shifted awkwardly in my seat. I found myself half wishing we were back home where she could take out her frustrations on me properly and humiliate me further. I made ready to leave the car in an attempt to find a call box when a large dark car pulled up behind us. For a fleeting, hopeful moment I thought it might be the cops, but as the seconds ticked by and there seemed no movement from behind us, I realised that it was unlikely that the police patrolled this area more than once or twice a day.
The lack of activity from behind us was becoming increasingly more concerning and as I kept an eye on the rear mirror, I flicked the central locking button for the doors. As I watched behind us, something started to happen. The car pulled out and the unseen driver tooled the vehicle slowly alongside us. My eyes left the rear mirror and looked over at the car as it drew level. It's windows were open, this time Rap music blared from the interior and drowned out the earlier Reggae that we had heard. The three black occupants all wore their usual baseball caps and, despite the fading light, their eyes were hidden by dark glasses. The front seat passenger was mouthing something to me. With some reluctance, but not wishing to antagonise these men, I pressed the button to operate my window. The music from the other car increased in volume as the window slid smoothly down.
"You got a problem, man?" the passenger shouted above the din.
"Tell him what's wrong" hissed the bitch, breaking her earlier silence, "then, maybe we can get the fuck out of here!"
As the occupants of the car seemed reluctant to moderate the volume of their music, it took me several seconds of yelling and expansive arm gestures to convey to them our current dilemma. Eventually they seemed to understand and as the back seat passenger climbed out of the car and retrieved a rope from the trunk, I soon realised that they were going to tow us away, hopefully to the comparative safety of the nearest gas station. Within a few minutes the large coloured man had secured the rope to our car and looped the other end around the rear towing hitch of his friend's vehicle. He climbed into the rear seat of our car.
"It's okay, man" he said with a wide grin, "Danny's a good driver and John's a mechanic. We'll tow you to a place where he can have a look at the engine for you. By the way, my name's Paul."
"Thank's Paul" I said now feeling slightly less worried, "I'm Dave and this is The Bit- er..this is my wife, Samantha"
The introductions complete, I released the hand brake and we moved off. Paul was sitting directly behind Sam and chatting to her idly. I glanced over a few times to look at her. The contemptuous expression had left her face and had been replaced by an apprehensive smile. Her head was turned sideways to look at our companion, her long, brown hair falling about her shoulders and partly obscuring her profile. Her whole demeanour had changed since Paul's arrival; her body language spoke of desire and her eyes twinkled with what I can only describe as unbridled lust.
I had long since accepted Sam's infidelities and affairs but this open flirting, right in front of me was something quite different. My mind began to wander as we drove. Sam had never bothered to lie to me about her lovers and often I had returned home unexpectedly to find her either being fucked over the back of the sofa in our den, on her knees with a large cock buried in her throat or in any other amount of sexual positions with other men. She had never apologised for her lewd behaviour and if she did comment, it was usually to say something about the fact that she needed more of a man than I was, to satisfy her. For my part, I have never been jealous and recently I have found myself becoming more and more aroused by seeing her with other men. I knew well her penchant for coloured and well endowed men and, therefore was not in the least surprised that she was coming on to Paul so strongly. She probably wanted to ensure that the evening was not a complete waste of time!
Danny drove his car at almost break neck speed, turning corner after corner and losing us completely in the labyrinth of narrow back streets. I struggled to control my own car and, when ten minutes later, he pulled into a small dark courtyard and suddenly stopped, I had to hit the brakes hard to avoid a collision. My brow was damp with cold sweat as I applied the hand brake and, opening the driver's door, climbed out into the still night air.
Everyone now exited their respective vehicles, and John and Danny pushed my car over towards a run down looking work shop. They popped the hood and I wandered over to join them as their heads disappeared into the darkness of the engine compartment. Samantha, resplendent in her white satin evening dress, stood, bored looking, to one side. The three coloured men and I all looked at her. The white dress shone beautifully in the half light of the courtyard and the tantalizing split in the side now revealed a generous proportion of Sam's creamy white thigh. She had omitted to wear stockings or tights, claiming that it was way too warm this evening and her naked leg protruded from the silky material sexily. Her arms still folded under her ample chest accentuated her deep cleavage further and it was obvious that our team of rescuers could hardly take their eyes off her.
The whole outfit was finished off with high heeled silver coloured shoes that increased her hight to nearly six feet. Her expression of boredom faded as Paul joined her once again and they started to talk. I was too far away to hear what was being said, but from the way that Sam constantly touched the black man's arm and then laid her open palm flat on his chest, laughing out loud, I knew that their conversation had turned intimate.
"Yup! Definitely the fuel pump." said John suddenly, breaking my reverie. I turned and looked helplessly under the hood.
"I can fix it, but it's gonna take at least an hour."
"Okay...if you wouldn't mind John. That'd be wonderful."
"Take the lady in the office." John called over to Paul, almost ignoring my presence now. John waved his agreement back and I saw the two of them disappear into a doorway.
"How much do I owe you?" I asked, now alone with John. I realised that Danny must have joined his friend and Samantha in the office. John looked up at me. He seemed to be trying to judge my reaction.
"I think Danny and Paul are getting paid right now, don't you?" he said with a lopsided grin. "Your wife's been coming on to us since we picked you up, you can't deny it."
The words failed me. My head fell and my eyes stared at the floor.
"What's wrong, man? Can't satisfy the bitch anymore, is that it?" John didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "She sure is a hot looking number, man! Why don't you go watch? As soon as I'm finished here I'll be along for my own payment!"
Without knowing it, this large black man had hit the nail on the head; I did want to watch. I wanted to see what was happening in that office. I wanted to witness all the details: to hear the bitch scream with joy, see her writhe under them and to watch them cum and cum. John could see the need in my eyes. Averting my gaze, I turned and walked quickly towards the doorway I had seen them go through a few minutes earlier.
It was not difficult to find the offices - I just had to follow the voices.
