Well here's another submission.
Sorry, as usual no hard sex.
The story line is maybe rather unlikely, but possible, and I believe that is what stories are all about.
I hope you enjoy it anyway.
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I suppose I've known Mary since she was born. Not the actual day she was born of course, but even as a four year old, I can still remember my Mum telling me that Mrs. Jones down the street had just had a new baby.
Odd that I should remember that one single event, but of course the brand new little baby was to feature so prominently in my life.
We grew up together in our little street, Brookdene Road in South East London, and even went to the same school, Bannockburn Primary in Plumstead, a suburb of Woolwich, which is in Greenwich. Hope that's not too confusing, but London is an awfully big place. Not exactly the poshest part of Greenwich I might add, but a good place to be bought up in, at least when I was a lad.
We were never childhood sweethearts or anything, as I was always that bit older than her, but she was a good friend of my youngest sister, our parents were friends, and somehow I cannot remember her ever not being around.
We got into our teens, and I started noticing her in a different way, but not till I was gone twenty did I ever actually take her out.
Once I did, we became un-separable, like a couple just meant to be, and as a few more years past, we thought of marriage and spending our lives together.
It almost goes without saying that I took her virginity though she was somewhat too late to take mine, and soon after we announced to our parents that we wanted to marry. They were ecstatic with the news, and sure enough on her eighteenth birthday, we tied the knot.
There we were, nearly ten years later, me running my own business selling construction equipment, and Mary long since a stay at home mum. Two kids made up our family, Tom junior a lad of seven, and Jilly our beautiful young five year old daughter.
I had a lovely and loving family, and everything seemed so perfect, nothing could go wrong.
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I remember quite clearly it was a Friday night in July, a warm, but not too hot evening. The kids had been packed off to stay with Mary's parents for the week end, and we were going out for the night with another couple, John and Tracy, a couple of years younger than us, who we'd known for almost as long as we'd known one another.
John was in insurance, a manager of some kind, and his wife worked at the Woolwich Building Society nearby. She was a pretty enough thing I suppose, but not really my type, with breasts just a bit too big for my liking, and legs that were OK, but not a patch on my Mary's.
OK, so I like my women slim classy and pretty. Not too tall, nice shapely long legs, breasts tight and pert rather than big, and a nice cute little bottom, with shape, but not too rounded.
Dammit ___ I've given the game away, and just described my wife Mary.
We'd already eaten at a local restaurant and decided to go on to a club. John seemed to know all about the local places, and which were current and which were passé, so we just followed his lead, ending up in a hotel with a club in the basement, the far side of Greenwich, which I for one had never been in before.
I had to admit it was quite classy, no scruffy youngsters to spoil the atmosphere, most of the clientele being well dressed and fairly affluent looking.
We ordered our drinks and they were delivered by a pretty young waitress wearing an outfit that looked good on her, displaying her tight young body without being too blatant.
John winked at me, and I smiled back. I had no idea what he was trying to tell me, but doubtless it was something to do with the young waitress.
I never found out.
"Hi Tom," came the voice from behind me, and I looked round to see who had greeted me.
OH BUGGER ___ I was in trouble. Big trouble.
"Didn't know you came in here," she continued, smiling at my little group and me.
"Hello Cath," I responded, my mouth dry as I tried to stay calm, and adding as quickly as possible, "This is my WIFE Mary, and our friends John and Tracy."
I emphasized 'wife' to make sure she caught on, as I didn't want her saying the wrong thing. Even so my pulse rate must have rocketed, and I felt myself sweating.
"Hi everyone," said Cath, smiled pleasantly and moved on, glancing back over her shoulder as she mingled with the crowd.
The two girls looked at me enquiringly, obviously wondering who the rather gorgeous blonde girl in the short revealing dress had been. But it was John who asked the question; put his foot in it really, and I could have killed him.
"How the hell do you know her Tom?" He demanded with a smile on his face. He wasn't stupid wasn't John, but sometimes he spoke before he realized what he was saying. "You know what she does for a living don't you? She's a ........"
He ground to a halt, at last realizing what he was about to say.
"Christ Tom, I'm sorry," he eventually continued, and of course that made it even worse.
"She's a what?" Asked Tracy his wife, not acting as bright as one would have expected.
John signaled her to shut up, and the truth dawned on her. "Oh," was all she said.
Mary was looking daggers at me, and her face was going a bit red.
Oh Christ this was going to take some explaining!
"So," remarked my wife at last. "We now all know what your friend Cath does for a living, but the question is my dear husband, how do you know her, and how well?"
It was one of those moments, when if I said the wrong thing, then all hell would break loose. Mary looked as if she was about to explode, and the other two were busy studying some imaginary thing on the other side of the room.
In these circumstances honesty is always the best policy, but of course that is not always possible when facing an increasingly angry wife.
Fortunately for me, I could tell the truth. It was something that I'd prefer not to have had to explain, but it was a damn site better than the conclusions my good wife was coming to.
"Cath's my contact," I started to explain. "You know I sell a lot of equipment overseas, and quite often I have to arrange ... eh ... well eh ... well 'entertainment' for some of my clients."
"She's a bloody hooker," Mary burst out. "You do business with a bloody prostitute."
"Cath prefers to call herself an escort girl," I mumbled uneasily, not sure how that was going to ease the situation.
"Escort, prostitute, whore or bloody hooker," she continued in an angry tone. "What difference does it make what you call her?"
"I only use her to arrange things for other guys, my clients," I pleaded, looking round in some embarrassment at the people around us, as our argument attracted their attention. "I've never actually used her myself."
"And I'm supposed to believe that am I?" Mary shot at me, glaring at me. Mary was a bit of a prude about these things, and I'd never confided in her some of the less respectable methods I used to acquire my orders.
'When in Rome, do as the Romans do' as they say. The guy I'd taken my business over from had done it, and I'd simply continued the practice. Five hundred quid to some fancy tart to get an order for half a million wasn't a bad return, but I didn't think it the right moment to try to explain that to Mary.
We glared at one another for several minutes in silence, me not knowing what to say, and Mary, I suspected, deciding whether to walk out or not.
"Why not ask her Mary?" interjected Tracy. "Just ask her if he's been fucking her."
Tracy was nothing if not direct.
"Oh Christ Tracy, keep your mouth shut," mumbled her husband John, and he put his head in his hands, shaking it in disbelief.
Even he didn't believe me!
Bloody hell I was in trouble.
"Should I do that then Tom," Mary almost spat at me. "Look, she's coming back over this way. Should I ask her what you two have got up to?"
Why not, I thought, and that's exactly what I said to her. Couldn't get any worse than it was.
Mary continued to glare at me, not sure what to do. Mary, God bless her, had led a somewhat sheltered life, and had probably never even knowingly seen a hooker, never mind speak to one face to face.
She slowly unwound herself, half standing and raising her hand to attract Cath's attention.
I held my breath.
The other two said nothing.
"Hi Mary," Cath greeted her when she came over, obviously having a good memory for names. Guess that was handy in her business.
"Everything Ok? What can I do for you?"
Mary was a bit lost for words, and I let out my breath at last.
A grin came over John's face as he stared at Cath's long bare legs till Tracy nudged him hard in the ribs.
"I was just wondering Cath," started my wife at long last. "Well I was just wondering ___ that is I was thinking. Well not exactly thinking, more of ___ well...."
"Whether your husband is a client of mine?" Cath asked confidently, a hint of a smile on her lips. "If that's what you were wondering, then the answer is no!"
She stood there, the two of them studying one another for some time.
"Then how ___ that is why ....." Mary tried to ask.
"How do I know Tom? Why do I know him?" responded Cath, before Mary could even form the correct question.
Mary nodded her head. She did at least seem to be calming down a little.
"Tom directs clients our way," Cath told her. "And before you ask, he's had plenty of opportunity to try out the wares, and has always refused. Even when it would have been a freebie," she added.
A smile formed slowly on Mary's face, and I seemed to have been saved. She pulled up a spare chair and motioned Cath to sit down beside her, and before I knew it, they were deep in conversation.
