Mary had tears streaming down her cheeks, mascara stained lines told Sara she had been crying for some time.
”What’s wrong?” Sara asked softly as she tried to comfort her friend, hugging her on the porch of her 19th Century home.
“H, h, he’s left me,” sobbed Mary. “H, h, he fucked me and as soon as he’d wiped his tiny little dick, he left me, for some whore he met just a few weeks ago at the tennis club.”
Mary burst into another flood of tears. Sara led her friend into the lounge and poured a stiff drink, “Here, drink this and tell me all about it.”
Mary told how her husband, John, “had been having an affair with the tennis club’s new secretary, Joan Something-or-other, a blonde bombshell who had been wooing the men, flashing her deep cleavage and long legs. They met by accident at a local bar, hmph, that’ll be right. John had worked late at the office and needed a quick drink before getting home and the whore had slipped into the bar to meet her date, who hadn’t turned up. They just hit it off right there and then. John had fucked the bitch then came home to me, all excited and eager to get into my panties. I knew there was something up, he had acted a little strange, over excited, you know what I mean?”
Sara nodded her head as Mary continued. “That bastard has been fucking that bitch for weeks, then coming home to me and doing me too! One evening, I decided to blow him, I could have sworn there and then I could taste something strange on his dick, another woman perhaps. He played it down, claiming the taste to be some lotion one of his mates had given him when he’d taken a quick shower at the club. The lying bastard,” Mary added under her breath. Mary drained the scotch in one gulp and held out the empty glass. Sara refilled her empty vessel and sat back down, placing a friendly arm around Mary’s shoulders.
The girls talked for hours. Eventually, Mary decided she couldn’t go back to the house and Sara offered her the use of the spare room. Mary thanked her friend and kissed her cheek. Sara, not expecting the sudden show of affection from her friend sat slightly shocked at Mary’s display of affection.
Sara loaned Mary some clothes and both took turns to shower and apply make-up, fix their hair and dab a drop of Channel onto their pulse spots.
“What are you two up to?” asked Dave, surprised at seeing Mary and Sara sharing a mirror and lipstick.
“Oh, just girly things honey,” Sara smiled. Sara suddenly realised how lucky she was having Dave as her partner. They had complete trust in each other, telling one another of every concern, every happy thought, every fantasy.
Mary could see the strong bond between her friend and her lover and was immediately envious. She had stopped sobbing and was beginning to sober up; beginning to place the details into some form of logical order, into perspective. But most of all, she wanted to take Dave and screw the ass off him. The thought had just popped into her head, she didn’t know from where, but, nevertheless, there it was. She wanted her best friend’s lover.
“What?” Sara asked Mary.
As if woken from a dream, Mary shook her head, “What?”
“What were you thinking about, just then?”
Dave left the room to take a shower. “You are one lucky girl,” Mary told her friend, “if only…” her voice trailed off as she drifted once again into a shallow trance.
“I know what you are thinking,” claimed Sara. Both girls laughed.
“Oh, don’t be so silly,” Mary retorted coyly. “How could I think such a thing? Hell, only minutes ago, I was bawling my eyes out because John had left me.”
“I know how you tick girl. I bet you’d love to pay John back for what he’s done to you, and a divorce wouldn’t be good enough.”
The three ate their evening meal in silence. Sara had managed to explain Mary’s predicament to Dave in the short time it took Mary to go pee.
“So, how long is she going to be staying?” Dave asked.
“Dunno, maybe a week or two.”
Two weeks later, Mary insisted she take Sara out for a girl’s night. Taking in a meal and several large glasses of wine, the two staggered for the ‘Century’ where they had agreed to meet Dave.
The bar was very busy and there was no sign of Dave. Mary told Sara she had to go pee and left her friend at the bar to wait for her husband.
The queue at the ladies restroom extended past the entrance to the gents. Mary decided she couldn’t wait any longer and slipped into the gents thinking that there’d be no-one there - she hadn’t seen a man enter the toilet since she joined the queue, five minutes earlier.
Mary squatted on the pan, her urine splashing into the toilet water. She heard the muffled sound of conversation faded in and out as the restroom door opened then close. She could make out a tune that someone was humming under his breath as the sound of urine splashed into the urinal trough.
Mary wiped herself dry, pulled on the toilet flush and exited the cubicle. At that same moment, the man turned and began to replace his penis into his trousers. Mary saw he was well endowed and broke the shocked silence.
“My my, you are well blessed,” she teased. The man flushed pink and for a second he checked he was in the right place. “I couldn’t wait any longer,” Mary continued, pointing to the pan, “I’m Mary.” She offered her hand and they shook slowly, the man still shocked by the surprise of seeing a woman in the men’s room. Mary’s head spun a little from the alcohol. She hadn’t had sex for over a month and, with a high libido, she had frigged herself to sleep almost every night since staying at Sara’s.