A Little Marital Difficulty

Jane was truly repentant and we then settled down to try and rebuild our lives together. It wasn't easy. She had destroyed my trust in her and I found myself watching her, checking her e mail account, and going through her phone looking for anything to show she was trying to contact them. I even checked the linen basket looking for semen stains in her underwear. I wasn't proud of myself. I would come home early and watch the house from a distance, I even considered putting a bug in her car, but didn't in the end do it. She was trying everything she knew to get back with me, all my favourite dinners, every wish of mine was her command. She tried every trick in the book to get me into her bed, I just couldn't do it. Every time she made an advance all I could see was Bobs big dick pistoning into her while she cried out in ecstasy. It hadn't happened, but so easily could have. I might have kept her away from those bastards, but the whole thing had broken me.

She stayed in the spare room while I stayed in the master bedroom. I moved her stuff over after that first night. I cried myself to sleep most nights and often woke in the night to find myself listening to Jane crying in the other room.

To make things worse, they started to try and contact us almost immediately. We never heard from Bob or Anne, but the other four tried to e mail or leave phone messages saying how sorry they were and how they regretted everything that happened. How they didn't blame me for getting violent with me and forgave me for it (Ha! That's rich. They were forgiving me). Then there were presents of flowers or bottles of wine and other stuff delivered by courier with cards begging to be friends again. Every time it happened, my fury bubbled up again. The flowers went straight in the bin and more than one good bottle of booze was tipped down the toilet. I even tried not accepting the deliveries, saying we had moved away.

After a couple of months Mary showed up on our doorstep. Jane saw her drive up and get out of her car, and called me before running up to her room and shutting the door. I don't know what Mary expected, but her reception was colder than just frosty. I opened the door with a face like thunder and didn't let her open her mouth. I made it quite clear that if she didn't get off our property at once and stay away I would drag her off and drop her slutty ass in the gutter where it belonged. The colour in her face drained out and she turned and hurried away without saying a word.

Then one Saturday we ran into all four of them in our shopping mall. I took Jane by the arm and we turned and walked away. They followed us and John even called after us, but we left the mall and took a turn into an ally way. A couple of minutes later John hurried round the corner straight into my fist He hadn't learned a damn thing. Never give a sucker an even break said WC Fields. The same thing goes for street fighting. As John went down Bill came round the corner. I kicked him in his knee and heard it dislocate. He screamed in pain as he went down, so I kicked him in the balls again just to show him how displeased with him I was. The two girls had lagged behind and had not yet arrived so I lifted Bills head by his hair and told him that his crew of perverts had better leave Jane and me alone from here on or I would make good my promise of putting them in wheelchairs for the rest of their lives. I smacked his head back down on the concrete and left with Jane before Mary and Carol turned the corner.

Things quieted down after that for some months and I thought we had finally become free of them then while I was at work and while Jane was having her nails done at her usual place down town she was ambushed by Ann. Jane couldn't get away as her hand was being worked on by the nail bar girl, so she did the only thing she could, she called me on her mobile. I picked up the phone and heard Jane cry "Ray, Anne is here and I can't get away". There was nothing I could do so I told Jane to keep the phone open so I could listen in. Ann was treacly as she spoke to Jane. She told her how she really ought to make it up to Bob. How he was looking forward to fucking her when I caused the rumpus and took her home. How it wasn't good enough and she needed to meet Bob and fuck him, If she didn't Ann and Bob would start to send photos they had to everybody we knew and my boss. The photo's showed some black dude ass fucking some white chick, but they had managed to Photoshop Janes face on the white chick. Ann gave her the photo saying they had plenty more and others purporting to show Jane fucking different guys and giving blow jobs. If Jane didn't show up to let Bob fuck her in two weeks, the photos would be circulated far and wide in our community to ruin her. Before she left Ann told Jane to feel free to call the cops because the computer and all copies of the photos were hidden somewhere well away and their house was squeaky clean. Ann then got up and left leaving Jane a quivering heap in the nail shop. The nail girl was a Vietnamese and spoke no English so was useless as a witness.

I left work at once and drove into town to pick up Jane. She was in bits and didn't know what to do. She hated the idea of going to see Bob, and knew if she did Jane would be able to take real pictures of her fucking and the blackmail would go on. But if she didn't submit to them Ann would send the photo shop fakes all around the town. It was pointless going to the cops. All I could show was a photo supposedly showing Jane being ploughed by some random black man. Even if they searched Bobs place the computer he used and the photo printer and everything else used would be long gone. We only had two weeks before Ann fulfilled her threat.

There was no way in the world that I would let Jane submit herself to be fucked by Bob. Even if we tried to set him up he could claim that Jane came to him of her own free will and everything was consensual. That would end up as a "he said-she said" case and would go nowhere. I therefore needed to think outside the box.

I spent some time thinking what to do and came up with a plan. Next morning I drove into town and bought a cheap burner phone. I dialled a number that had been ingrained into my brain many years ago. It rang three times before being picked up. "International Imports, how can I help you" a voice said. I was very careful and precise. "This is Mr William White. Can I speak to Jonathan Green please about importing ski jackets?" The voice said "I'm sorry sir but Mr Green doesn't work here anymore" and hung up. I keyed in a second number and waited exactly 3 minutes and twenty five seconds after the last call ended before pressing the call button. The phone rang nine times and was picked up. "Yes" a voice said. I said "This is operative 59386. I need help". The voice said "be at point Kilo at 1745 hours on Wednesday" and disconnected.

A quarter before six the following Wednesday I was sitting on a park bench reading a magazine some 300 miles away from home. A voice behind me said "Hallo Ray. Long-time no see" We had worked together on several ops. I owed my life to him, and he to me.. We were blood brothers in a way that civilians can never understand. I told him my problem. It took a while. He asked some questions and I gave him the answers. I never asked him for anything. He listened. Never writing down anything. In my old line of work anything on any scrap of paper might be a death sentence for somebody. After about 15 minutes. He said OK Ray, leave it to us. Goodbye old buddy, see you around the bazaars sometime, and just as he arrived, he was gone. I finished reading my paper, got up and took a long drive home.

Eight days later, Ann and Bob left town. Well at least that's what their neighbours said. It seems a moving van arrived at their house with a couple of guys in suits as well as the moving crew. A few minutes later Bob and Ann came out of their house with the two guys in suits, got into Bobs SUV and drove off. The moving crew spent two hours emptying the house. Later a cleaning company turned up and cleaned the place from top to bottom. Just before the end of the day a guy turned up with a "For Sale" sign and went away. Nobody has seen or heard from Bob or Ann since.

Jane and I don't know what the sudden disappearance to their friends did to Carol, Mary and their husbands, but the effect was electric. Carol and John moved to South Africa soon afterwards while Mary and Bill moved to New Zealand so their neighbours told us. We woke one morning to a postcard on our mat with just the words. I'm so sorry. Mary. We never heard from any of them again.

So what of us. It took a very long time but we are more or less back where we were before all this shit hit the fan. I still can't bring myself to trust her as I did before and I still check on her from time to time. She never knows when I will be home, or where I will show up. I can't help it. Old habits die hard. Jane still dissolves into tears from time to time and for no obvious reason. It happens less than it did, but now and then it hits her. It's a form of PTSD of course, and I do what I can for her, but let's face it we are both casualties of a war we shouldn't have had to fight.

There are plenty of folk out there into all sorts of weird sexual shit. I don't mind what they do or who they do it with as long as they don't do it around me, or try and get me involved. If Jane had wanted to stray, all she had to do is tell me. We could have divorced and stayed friends, and then once free she could have fucked who she liked as often as she liked. I could have moved on a sadder and wiser man. As it was, she and her friends decided to trick me into doing something I would never do. That didn't end well for any of us. Like everybody who survives a war we are trying to rebuild our lives as best we can. We are doing OK now, but it will never be what it was. All that just because somebody thought it would be fun to fuck a big dick.

How sad is that.