Many thanks to Angel Love for editing this story.
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My wife Helene had a nightmare. She started wriggling back and forth in our bed before she began sobbing, "No David, no, no, not in my ass. No David, not in the ass. No never, not even my husband is allowed to do that. No, no. In the pussy, yes, yes, oh yes. Take me to the clouds. Yes, you are so big and hard. Give it to me. Yes. Oh David oh. Not so rough, no, yes, yes, moooore, more, harder David, harder, ooooh David oh. Oh."
What should I do? Wake her up or continue listening and perhaps get some clues about what her dream was about. I didn't do anything to stop her dream and she fell into normal sleep again.
The next morning I told her that she must had some kind of nightmare because she been wriggling round in the bed and shouted no, no, no several times. I asked what she had dreamed about. She got a strange look on her face before she told me that she had a slight memory of some dream about having problems with some drunken pussy hound who didn't give up his attempts before the girls got him thrown out of the bar.
Can't help it but the look on her face told me that she remembered much more of her dream and her answer gave me a strange feeling that she lied on purpose. The only David who I knew had some connection to Helene. He was her ex-boyfriend, whom she had dumped after his second cheating before she and I had met. But she had been alone in her old hometown during the last weekend where two parties were held for her childhood friend Linda who was going to be married and move away from town. First, "The last girls night out with the old gang" on Friday night and then Linda's engagement party on Saturday evening. Could she really have been involved in a classic reunion story; a beautiful wife visits her old hometown for some kind of reunion, meets her old ex and after a few drinks they want to live their old memories again. Hard to believe after they had not seen each other more than a few minutes now and then during the last sixteen years, at least as far as I knew, but anything is possible these days.
I am Kenneth Persson, a 42-year-old engineer working at my Scandinavian hometown water purification plant. This story began one Saturday evening sixteen years ago in a pub line. At that time I was living together with my girlfriend Jenny but she had been away from home for almost five months now for her studies to be nurse. She had told me so many different excuses for not coming home for the last four week ends that I didn't care any longer. I met Helene in the line, we began to talk and after only a few minutes I understood that I had found a real "Bingo" and had no need to go in to the crowded pub. Instead I suggested dinner at the best place in town. She accepted. I used my cell phone and was happy to get a table there and a taxi.
Helene was new in town and had got transferred from the local office in her hometown to the main office of the insurance company where she worked. To my good luck the main office was in my hometown. Helene had newly split up from a long time relation with her boyfriend and wanted to get away from him because of his cheating habits.
After a pleasant dinner she came with me to my apartment, where she chilled out. She noted Jenny's things there and it was clear that she didn't believe me when I tried to explain that Jenny was my ex but none of us had time to clear her things away yet. Instead of the expected great sex, we had some pleasant chat.
The next morning I went to a super market, bought cardboard boxes and packed all of Jenny's belongings in these before I rang Jenny and told her what I had done. Jenny sounded happy instead of sorry and confessed that she had met a handsome young doctor some weeks ago and hoped that I too would meet somebody. I told her I had and we agreed that our relationship was history. No hard feelings from either side.
I rang Helene at her job and planned a new date. Once again she came with me to my apartment and when she found out that I had told her the truth about Jenny, she gave me the sweetest smile I ever had seen on a girl's face and told me, "What the hell are we waiting for?"
I had never before undressed two people so fast as I did that very day. It was a matter of seconds before both of us were naked; I was between her spread legs and had entered her wet but still tight vibrating pussy. Helene was a great fuck, the best in my life. Compared to her Jenny could only be remembered as a pale shadow. I understood that a man can only hope to meet such a good fuck once in a lifetime and therefore did my best to satisfy her so she wanted to see me for more dates.
It had been a surprisingly easy game getting into her panties, but I had some unspoken doubts about us living together. But surprisingly she suggested us sharing the rent for one apartment instead of paying two. Only a complete idiot would have said no. Everything between us went much better than expected. I didn't find any valid reason to have objections when Helene began to talk about marriage after we had been living together for two years. We did it and within a few years we were an average family with two daughters, nice house, two cars and a heavy mortgage.
Helene had a good taste for clothes and kept her body in nice shape even after she had our children. Her first promotion at the job came sooner than expected and caused some shit talk behind her back until it was clear for everybody that she was the right person for the new job. She did a good job and got accepted by her fellow workers. At home we were happy to have much fewer quarrels than most other couples we knew.
So far we had only one serious quarrel when Helene had gotten too boozed up at a company party without invited spouses eight years ago. One of her fellow workers rang me from the party and told me that if I didn't want my wife being fucked by "Mincing Michael," once a famous hockey star, today with a reputation of successful salesman and eager pussy hound, I had to get there quick as hell to stop it. To my great luck the party was held at an easy reachable hotel just outside the town center. I got there within a few minutes, rushed into the party with a pair of pruning shears in my pocket.
I was told where to find Helene and the horny bastard. I found them in the darkest area of the place where they were necking in a booth. Two of his supporters, one with a camera stood next to the table so it was difficult for the other guests to see what Michael did with Helene. The creep with the camera obviously expected Michael to do some nasty things with her right there in the booth. They didn't notice me before I had taken the camera and thrown it on the floor and hit Michael on his head with the pair of pruning shears so he got groggy.
Before anybody could stop me I had dragged him to the floor, opened his flyer waved the pair of pruning shears in the air and shouted, "You have fucked your last married women."
Then several other guests reacted, jumped on me and locked my arms. Helene, who was shocked by my interference, was crying loudly. I had caused a real mess, indeed. Helene's boss barked as a mad dog and accused me for the worst scandal during his time at the company.
One of the middle level bosses who liked Helene had suspected that something was wrong and took their bottle of white wine from the ice bucket and sent the wine to a lab the next day.
Before I was thrown out of the party one of her fellow workers promised to take care of the hysterical Helene and take her home the next day. She and her husband came with a very regretful Helene about ten o'clock the next morning and left as soon as I had convinced them that I had no intentions of hurt her.
Helene begged me to forgive her and when she told me what she had been drinking during the evening I suspected that Michael had added something to the wine on the sly. I knew that even one of her bosses had suspected the same thing and the wine would be sent for lab tests. I decided to wait and see what came out of that. Anyway, I was in love with Helene who was a good wife and mother to our two children. That is why it wasn't too difficult to forgive her and after a few chilly and silent days our marriage got back to its happy level again.
Michael had worse problems after the party. The lab test showed Helene's wine had been "spiked" with extra alcohol to more than double the strength. The reason why Helene didn't notice that extra strength was that the wine was"Retsina" from Greece with a strong taste of resin. Helene's job is an important customer to that hotel, so they demanded an investigation of the matter and got the barman to confess that Michael had bribed him to fix the wine.
Michael's two supporters confessed that they had been helping Michael to bring a drunken women to his apartment once before and got rewarded with using her after Michael had his fill . All three of them got a serious last warning at their job. Michael's reputation changed from an envied womanizer to a disgusting creep who nowadays had to use dirty tricks to get any pussy.
The local gossip was that I had succeeded in doing what I intended to do with the pruning shears and Michael had been forced to change his name to "Michaela," which had become his new nickname among his acquaintances. He got enough of our town and left it soon after a gang of tipsy "girls night out" girls had met him at a single bar, demanded to see if he had a real or artificial penis. When he refused they had simply laid him down on the dance floor for closer investigation. The shameful treatment made his penis shrink. The tiny size had caused so much laughing among all the girls who were there that from that moment he was a laughing stock among local girls and his usual simple seductions were gone with the wind.
But now I couldn't get Helene's dream from my mind and collected available information about this David Brillmann. Thanks to his rather unusual name it was easy to find him in the public registers. Within a short time I knew that he had been four months in jail for beating his ex-wife and further two months for drunk driving. For the time being he was unemployed and had not gotten his driving license back. By using some connections I even succeeded in getting some local gossip via a friend working at a company with customers in David's hometown. His months in jail had not been any disadvantage for him in his relations with women. There are many "jail-bird groupies" even married women, who of some unexplained reason, get dragged to such a nasty bastard for kinky sex.
At home after a bowling game I told Helene a story that I had met a guy from her hometown who knew both her and her ex boyfriend David Brillmann, who had been in jail for "lady boxing" and drunk driving. Then I continued, "And now that disgusting coward is some kind of idol among the local 'jail bird groupies'. Did you met him during the party with the old gang?"
She was surprised, got a strange look on her face and replied after a slight hesitation, "He was at the same bar as we for some time but he didn't say much to me. Why do you ask?"
"Didn't he try to persuade you to join his 'fan club'?"
"Of course not, he knows I'm married."
"That's not any obstacle for him. But I really hope that you could resist the temptation to 'play with the fire' with such a creep. You know how you can be after too many drinks."
Now she got angry and shouted, "Are you accusing me for something?"
"No, but have to say what I've been told about your friends. Did you know about his bad habits against women?"
