In Over My Head

This is the fourth part of a five part story and it could be read as a stand alone. I would suggest that you read part's One through Three first though. There is no sex to speak of. So if you are looking the stroke stuff? Click the back button now!

My thanks go to Techscan and LadyCibelle for their kind assistance with the editing of this story and correcting the usual clangers that keep my critics so happily amused. But I'm sure you'll find something you don't like in the story somewhere.

I would like to point out that my editors do not necessarily agree with my interpretation of the characters or the events portrayed. Any flack should be directed at me. This is a work of fiction and comes solely from my somewhat demented mind.

Part 4 – Anita's Story

I push the stiff door open, stagger inside, collapse onto the scruffy old bed, put my head in my hands and have my nightly cry. How had I brought myself to this, living in this tatty little bed-sit on my own. I had a good life, a nice house with a gentle loving husband who had given more than I ever wanted. But I had thrown all that away.

I had turned that good man into monster, who would find fault in everything I did. Who would drive me insane with his constant unspoken questions, about where I'd been and who I'd been with. In the end I couldn't stand it anymore and felt forced to leave him. But it was I who had turned him into the man he is now.

You will never believe how it started. One of the girls in the accounts department where I work, had got pregnant and decided she wasn't coming back after she had the baby, she was going to be a stay at home mum.

My boss told me that if I went to night classes and learnt how to use the accounts software they were using, I could have her job.

It was more money and I thought it would be much better than the work I was doing, so I looked into what courses the local college was running. They had a ten week course starting in a couple of weeks later, it was just what I needed and the timing was perfect.

When I got home from work that night I told my husband Martin about the job offer and the night school course. He as always, was very enthusiastic and encouraged me to go for it. That was Martin all over back then, he was always so supportive of anything I've ever wanted to do.

When I think of all the hare brained things I have done over the years, I don't think he ever once put up an objection. He encouraged me when I wanted to start horse ridding again, and even offered to buy me a horse. Then there was the ballroom dancing classes, I know he hated it, but he took me every week for months until I lost interest and there had been many other short lasting hobbies.

When I first met Martin, I was working on the tills at the local supermarket. He started coming in two or three times a day. Often buying no more than a can of soft drink and he always came to my till. He appeared very shy, in the beginning he would just smile as he paid me, after a while he started just saying hallow and asking how I was, then we would have a little chat

Mrs Sanders the supervisor, started telling me off, as he would be at my till for some time, keeping me occupied whilst other customers were waiting. But I told her, I couldn't be rude to him. One day she asked me if I liked him, I said that I did, but I didn't think he had the nerve to ask me out.

"Well, we'll soon see about that!" she replied, "You are here to serve our customers, not talk to your admirers."

The next time Martin came in I could see her watching him through the office spy window. Martin got his can of Coke and walked over to the cash tills. The other two till lines were empty, but he came and stood behind the customer that I was serving.

As I finished serving the lady, out of the corner of my eye I saw Mrs Saunders come out of the office. She came striding down the store like she was on a mission; I was worried and wondered what she was going to say to Martin.

"Excuse me young man". She almost bellowed at him. Martin was taken by surprise and spun around to look at her. "Would you mind telling me your name?"

"Martin, Martin Shaw." He answered, looking very nervous and somewhat taken aback.

"Well, Mr Martin Shaw, this young lady is Miss Anita Thomas. There! Now you've been introduced, so you can get on and ask her to go out with you, and after she has said yes, you can leave her alone to get on with her job." Then in a much softer voice. "Oh by the way, she's off shift at seven, perhaps you can meet her and go for a drink or something.

With that, she stormed off again. Martin turned back to me his face had turned beetroot red.

"Anita, would you like to go for a drink?" He sheepishly asked.

Of course I said yes and the next thing I knew, we were going steady. I had always taken Mrs Saunders to be a bit of an old cow, but I think she really had a heart of gold.

Mrs Saunders would always ask after Martin, and six months later when I showed her my engagement ring she was very happy for me. The funniest thing she ever did was at our wedding, we were stood in the reception line, when Mrs Saunders's got to Martin she gave him a bill for a can of Coke. Martin and both looked at her confused, and she told us that Martin and I hadn't realised that he had never paid for his can of Coke that day.

I soon found out Martin was not the shy man I had taken him for, it appeared that it was only me he was shy with. Well, until he got to know me, and he got to know me very intimately, very quickly, if you know what I mean.

Martin and I were marred a year after we met. Martin unlike me, was very cleaver and had a really good job in his fathers business. Well, it had been the family business but his father had sold out to some big organisation. Martin was on a very good salary and it appeared he was able to work when he liked. It was only later that I discovered he was a kind of figure head. He had a great chunk of the companies stock and could really do just as he liked.

I think he liked being what was the equivalent of the boss and being in on the negotiations for new contracts and things, I don't think he really needed to be there, but he claimed the people the company dealt with, like to meet a 'Shaw' when they did business. We or should I say Martin, (I never had any money until I married him) bought a great big detached house just off the high street for us to live in.

Unfortunately we were soon to find out that I couldn't have children. I thought that Martin would get upset about it, as he had said that he was looking forward to having lots of children. But he was wonderful about it and never showed his disappointment. I was very upset when the doctors told me the news and got very depressed, but Martin was my rock and helped me get over it.

He persuaded me to leave the shop and get an office job with more sociable hours. I didn't think I was cleaver enough, but he assured me that I was. I'm glad he did, as I soon found I was just as cleaver as all the other girls. Martin and I had ten wonderful years together until I started that bloody training course.

There were nine girls and three men on it and after the first week nearly all of us started going over to the pub for a drink after the class. That's when the bastard who ruined my marriage laid a trap for me. But I never realised what he was up to at the time. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, I can look back now and see every step he took.

His name was Brian, he was about six foot and quite handsome. He never made a pass at any of the girls or anything, that I was aware of. He just acted like everyone else and pretended to discuss the course. It was only later that I realised, during those chats in the pub, he was never saying he didn't understand this or that. It was Brian who was answering everyone's questions, putting us all straight. I know now he didn't need to be on the course; he was on a fishing trip and I was just one of the stupid fish he caught. But God he was cleaver about it, he never showed favouritism in who he helped, he was just helpful and friendly to everyone.

You know it was just like being back at school, we were all friends together, a nice little gang. We all got on very well with the course, I think mainly due to Brian's help and the tutor was very pleased with us.

Towards the end of the ten weeks we were all quite proud of ourselves and as we were getting on so well, we didn't have to study so hard. The conversations in the pub had started to move away from the course and on to more everyday subjects.

One evening one of the girls, Samantha, let on she spoke Spanish. I speak Spanish a little as Martin and I go there on holiday every year, and I said it would be nice to be able to be fluent in it. Brian hadn't been sitting near us and I had no reason to believe he heard me say about improving my Spanish.

On the last week of the course I saw Brian studying a brochure of the colleges courses and I asked him if he was going to do some other courses. He said that he was planning of doing the Spanish course that started in a week or so's time, that went on for twenty weeks.

Christ! I was so naive, now I realise he was playing the fish, but I never saw it back then. I just said, I wouldn't mind doing the course as well. Well that was it, he had me and but I didn't have a clew about it, or what he was up too.

Martin as he always did, encouraged me to do the Spanish course, I only wish now he hadn't been so bloody supportive of everything I wanted to do

The first evening of the Spanish course was very different to the little accounts course, there were about thirty people on it. Mostly youngsters in their late teens and early twenties, with a few retired people. The only person I knew there was Brian and we naturally teamed up straight off, and as before we went over the pub for a drink after the class. But this time, instead of a whole gang of us going, there was just Brian and me.

I didn't take any notice as by now it had become a habit to go and have a quiet drink and a chat. I didn't notice that now we were talking about each other and our lives. I didn't register that the little complements he had started throwing my way, were making me feel good. Like telling me how nice I looked and how well I was picking up Spanish. But it was all having a subtle effect on me.

If I had taken notice of how his attitude had changed, I might have had a chance of understanding what he was up to. God, when I worked on the tills I'd learnt how to deal with wolves. But then, they weren't dressed in sheep's clothing!

I think it was on the third or fourth week I first saw Brian's sports car. It was a lovely little thing and he was very proud of it. A Morgan he called it, an old fashion looking car, but apparently brand new and very expensive. I think it was on the fifth week he took me for a run in it after class and we went to a different pub. God riding in that car was a thrill. You are very low down and it feels like you are going very fast, with the wind blowing in your hair.

Looking back now, I wonder if he didn't spike my drink a little because I did feel a little light headed on the way back. He took me back to my car and always the gentleman got out and opened the car doors for me, then he gave me a little peck on the cheek as he closed my door. I was very flattered, and at the time, I don't think I realised how much I was becoming attracted to him. You know he was a friend not a suitor and I must have been blind.

The ride in the sports car to the different pub became the regular thing after that. Brian would sit very close to me in the bar and we had become very touchy feely, if you know what I mean. I don't how to explain it, but I had started falling for him. How can anyone do that? I loved Martin! How could I fall in love with Brian at the same time?

But that's what I did. Well I thought I did, now looking back I think it was just a kind of infatuation, you know like a fantasy. But over the weeks the closeness soon turned into real touching, then kissing and fondling. Less time was spent in the pub and more in Brian's car.

Not that there was enough room in that car to do anything. But Brian was playing with my breasts and had his hand up my skirt. You know it was fun, just like being a teenager again, with all that groping in the car.

About the fifteenth week of the course things got a little sticky. Brian and I went to the usual pub and while we were there, someone stole my handbag. We never saw who took it, because we were concentrating on each other. All right, we were kissing and my bag just went. Luckily the only thing that was important in there was my car keys and a little cash, as I didn't have my credit cards with me.

As I couldn't drive my car with the keys, Brian had to drive me home. Martin must have heard the sports car, because he asked me who had driven me home when I got in. I just said one of the boys from the course. I didn't tell Martin what pub my bag was stolen from, well he didn't ask, he must have assumed it was the pub near the college.

The following morning Martin took me down to collect my car and arranged to get another set of keys for it. That was going to take some time because of the central locking thing. You know, you push a button on the key fob thing'y and it locks all the doors, so I had to use the spare set and Martin had the house locks changed.

The next couple of weeks Brian and I started getting really heavy. I gave him a hand job the first week and he persuaded me to give him oral sex the next.

That was something strange, I often give Martin oral sex and enjoy doing it; just as I enjoy when he does the same to me. He brings me to a climax so easily that way. But with Brian it was all a bit of a chore. Maybe, I was really feeling confused, I loved Martin what the hell was I doing sucking on Brian's penis? I didn't finish him with my mouth, I used my hand and Brian acted like a child who had had his sweets taken away. I should have realised then what a selfish pig he was.

I knew it was wrong and I wanted to stop seeing him, but I just couldn't keep away from him. God, it would have been so easy to just give up the course. I honestly did think about it, but then, I thought Martin would wonder why I had stopped going.

The nineteenth week of the course Brian and I went to the pub as usual. But we didn't stay very long and were soon heading back to my car. Nothing was actually said but we both knew we were going to get into the back of my car and Brian was going to fuck me. It was the natural progression of Brian's plan. We couldn't do it in his little sports car, as there wasn't enough room.

I've no excuse's, I new what I was doing wrong, but by then I was going with the flow. I new there was only one week of the course left and then it would be over I would never see Brian again. Or I think, I hoped I wouldn't.

We got back to my car, it was dark in the college car park so no one could see us. We got in the back, I locked the doors and we both got undressed. After kissing and cuddling for a while Brian asked me to suck him and get him nice and hard. Then he produced a contraceptive. I hadn't told him that I couldn't get pregnant so I put it on him. I wonder, did I think that was a barrier against him? Was I trying to keep him out of Martin's property. I know that when he pushed into me, I knew I had made a big mistake. I knew that I would never let him do it again. I didn't care if Martin did get suspicious I was never going to see Brian again after that night.

Brian was driving into me and I really wasn't enjoying it at all. You know I wasn't a virgin when I met Martin. I remember the first time I had sex, I didn't enjoy it much, but after that every time I had had sex I'd enjoyed it. But that night with Brian panting away driving his cock into me, I just didn't want to be there. I think the guilt factor had finally struck home.

Then suddenly all hell broke lose. There was a loud clang as all the car door locks jumped up and the interior lights came on as someone pulled open the door. I was totally confused as, arms reached in and grabbed hold of Brian, they pulled him off of me and out of the car. I saw two men, but I didn't recognise them. They threw Brian on the floor, then punched and kicked him for what seemed like hours.

I was screaming hysterically, I thought they were going to kill Brian and rape me or something. When they finally stopped beating on Brian, one of them said, "Right you f-ing bastard that will teach you to stay away from other peoples wives."

Then to me. "And you, you little slut! You had better get home to your old man. He knows what you've been up to tonight. If he's got any sense he'll give a bloody good hiding."

Then they were gone. I called and ambulance for Brian and quickly got dressed but I couldn't dress him. When the police and ambulance arrived, they knew what we had been doing. The police put two and two together and went straight after Martin. I did tell them that it wasn't him who had beaten up Brian, but they said Martin had better have a good alibi.

Well Martin did have a good alibi, for some reason he had spent the evening playing darts in the pub next to the police station, where the off duty police drink. Now that's what you call a bloody good alibi.

When I got home, I was in a hell of a state. Martin wasn't there he never came home until nearly midnight, the police who had been waiting outside came it to talk to him. Once they saw who was, it was obvious that they knew him. He just told them the names of the officers he had been playing darts with and they left.

Martin came in and sat in one of the chairs in the lounge. I was sat on the sofa crying as I knew he knew what I had done. I started to try and apologise but he told me to be quiet.

He sat there for some time staring at the floor then he said "Do you love him?"

"No! I love You. I think I was infatuated with him. But I don't think I am anymore!"

"Did you fuck him?"

I started crying again. "Only once and that was tonight, but he didn't finish and I had no intention of letting him do it again. I was going to quit the course so I wouldn't have to see him again."

Martin raised his eyebrows.

"Do you want to stay married to me?"

"Of course I do! I love you."

"Bloody fine way of showing it. Go to bed in the spare room we'll discuss this further tomorrow night when I get home from work. I can't think straight right now"

"The spare room. Can't I sleep in our bed?"

"My bed! I'm not sure I want to sleep in the same bed as a tramp. I'm not sure what I might catch. That bastard you fucked tonight sleeps with any whore he can get his hands on. You had better go to see the doctor tomorrow. See if the arsewhole has left you any little surprises or going away presents."

"Did you organise that tonight?"

"No I would have killed the pair of you! They were some other husbands whose wives he's been shagging. As you were his current slut, they suggested I got a good alibi, as the police would suspect me first. Now please go and get your stuff out of my room, we'll talk tomorrow night."

I went to bed in the spare room. Martin was downstairs for hours, I heard him talking on the phone but I couldn't hear what he was saying. I cried myself to sleep.

In the morning when I got up Martin wasn't there. I called into work to say I was ill, My boss said something so strange, that I got very curious about, all he said was.

"It's to be expected. Take a couple of days off and we'll see you next week."

I couldn't work it out at the time, it was like he knew about me and Brian, and that Martin had found out about it. But how could he?

I went to see the doctor and he sent me to a special clinic. The place was quit nice, but some of the other patients there were frightening. A couple of them were prostitutes and they could see that I was frightened and they were nice to me so I sat with them. They asked me why I was there and they reassured me.