Haven't done one of my little snapshot stories for some time, and this one suddenly popped into my mind. No sex, no character build up and no background, so you've been warned. What you see is what you get, and I hope you enjoy it.
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"We need to talk Mike," she greeted me as I walked through the door, so you probably have more idea where that was going, than I did at the time.
"Sure Annie," I smiled at her. "Let me just get myself a cup of tea."
"Right," Annie sighed mysteriously. "Get me one Mike. I'm going to need it."
'Strange,' I thought, but didn't say anything, simply went and made two brews, Typhoo if you're interested, and went and joined her at the kitchen table.
"Is there anything you want to tell me Mike?" she questioned me testily.
"About what?" I replied, sipping my tea, and very nice it was, honestly having no idea what she was on about.
"I spoke to Mary Smith today," she told me.
"You speak to that bitch every day Annie," I reminded her, her best friend being no great friend of mine. She was the sort who would only drink Earl Grey.
"Yes and she spoke to Jennifer Murray yesterday."
"Jennifer who works in our building?" I queried, still wondering where this was going, and enjoying another sip from my cup.
"The very same Mike," she confirmed, with a smug grin on her face. "And she heard what that slut Angela Jenkins said to you on Friday lunchtime."
Oh dear. This might take some explaining away. As my wife knew, Angela Jenkins was a very pretty little thing and she had been playfully flirting with me for a few weeks now, and maybe my responses could have been better chosen.
Despite myself I guess my face at that moment added fuel to the fire.
"So you admit it you bastard," Annie spat at me angrily.
"What's there to admit?" I parried her, trying to remember exactly what Angela may have said that day that could possibly have upset her so much, but Annie simply banged her cup down on the table and glared at me.
"Ok, I'm sorry Annie," I tried to placate her, surprised at her over reaction. "I promise you it won't happen again."
"Bit late for that Mike. It won't wash. You can't expect to fuck the slut and get away with it."
WHAT!
"Your damn girlfriend should be more careful what she says when other people are around," Annie crowed. "Jennifer heard exactly what that bitch said to you."
I stared at her, totally gobsmacked, desperately trying to think of what Angela could have said to me to cause this rumpus, when with a snarl, she delighted in telling me.
-- "Oh Mike. You were wonderful. That was the best session we've had since we first got together. I'm so sore I won't be able to walk properly for the rest of the day." --
My mind reeled.
Shit, she was right.
How the hell had ... Oh shit, this will take some explaining.
"So you don't deny it?" Annie yelled at me.
"It's not what it sounds like Annie," I claimed, hardly the most original line of defence. "It's only been the last couple of weeks or so."
"The hell it's not," my wife shot back at me, the scowl on her face slowly morphing into a smile. The sort of smile that you would run a mile from, and rendering me speechless.
"No matter honey," she then surprised me with. "I guess that makes us even."
"Even?"
"Yes even," she grinned at me. "I'm surprised you never suspected."
"Suspected?"
"Yes Mike, me and Tom Harper."
"Tom Harper?"
