What Ate Did

I watched the naked woman on the screen intently. She was stunning but she didn’t exude the brash self-confidence that might have been expected from a woman in such a situation. On the contrary there was a shyness, even a vulnerability about her. It manifested itself in her whole demeanour; in her body language, in her soft and unassertive voice and in the way she often cast her beautiful expressive eyes downwards. She was on her knees and there were three men standing over her, slowly stroking their powerful pricks. Her expression showed she was resigned to her fate, an exhausted deer neither able to run nor to resist the pack of hounds that had surrounded it. I paused the video.

I studied the frozen face that now filled the screen. God, I loved her! I loved her passionately; I loved her more than words could say. She was everything I had ever wanted and more. I glanced at the framed photograph that occupied pride of place on top of the television. It was of the same woman but the photograph had been taken three years earlier. It would not have been readily apparent to most people because her face was partially obscured by her wedding veil. There was no doubt about the identity of the proud bridegroom standing alongside her, however. That was me!

Not so long ago we were a conventional young married couple with jobs, a mortgage and hopes for the future. How could it all have come to this?

We first met five years ago and I was taken with her right from the start. I noticed her the minute I walked into this club in London, even though she had her back to me. She was about five feet eight, slender and was wearing a white halter neck dress that contrasted strongly with her golden tan. Her skirt length was fairly short and I could see that she had great legs. Her dark hair was cut in a bob and it bounced softly every time she turned her head. She was with two other girls, and they were having an animated conversation. She was even better from the front being very pretty indeed. She also had a nice full bust on her, and her cleavage looked very attractive through the keyhole neckline of her dress. But it was her sparkling eyes that really caught my attention. I watched her as she listened to her friends. Her eyes would fasten on to whoever was speaking and she gave the distinct impression that she was hanging on to every single word. I realised that she was way out of my league but I couldn’t tear myself away. Suddenly she looked directly at me…and smiled! It was a captivating, enchanting, heart warming smile. I had to say something to her. I hoped she wouldn’t just ignore me; I would feel such a fool. I might have looked confident as I approached her but inwardly I felt as nervous as a kitten.

“I know it’s rude to stare but I couldn’t help myself. You have got such wonderful eyes.”

“My eyes? Well, that’s novel.” She seemed rather dubious and the instant I looked down her neckline I understood why. Most blokes of my acquaintance would only have commented on her tits.

“No really, you have and they look even better close up. Your eyes, I mean. Not your…” This was even worse! I was making a right pig’s ear of it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you, but I just had to tell you. I was watching the way you were looking at your friends. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to them. Sorry.” As I turned to walk away I felt her hand on my arm.

“You haven’t embarrassed me. What’s your name?”

“Joe.”

“Mine’s Kate, and if you ask me nicely I might let you buy me a drink.”

It was a bit quieter in the bar so it was easier to talk. We hit it off at once. We didn’t do anything but talk for the whole evening. I could have listened to her for hours; she had such a lovely soft voice. Apparently she had just come back from an exotic holiday in the Maldives Islands. That accounted for her tan. She told me she was twenty-three and worked as a beautician in a department store. We discovered we had similar tastes in music, films and food. At the end of the evening she gave me her phone number and we arranged to meet the following weekend. Before long we were seeing each other four or five nights a week. We had been together for couple of months or so and were having dinner in a restaurant.

“Joe, there’s something I have to tell you. Do you remember that I’d just come back from my holidays when we met?”

“Yes, I do. You’d been to the Maldives, hadn’t you?”

“I had, but I wasn’t there on holiday. Well, not exactly a normal one. It was a sort of holiday, but I was actually there to do some nude modelling for Penthouse.”

“Penthouse?” I looked at her.

“Anyway, it’s coming out next week. They’ve made me the ‘Pet of the Month’.” She looked anxious. “I don’t want you to be upset with me, Joe. I didn’t even know you at the time.”

What could I say? How could I possibly hold her to account for something she’d done before she’d even met me? And after all, what was it that she had done? Nude modelling! Big deal! To be honest it was rather flattering to know that I was dating a girl who was sufficiently attractive to feature in the magazine.

“I’m not going to get upset with you, Kate. Why should I?”

Her relief was evident. “I’d been dreading having to tell you.”

“You shouldn’t have done, really. Actually it makes me feel quite proud. I mean, me, Mr Ordinary, going out with a girl who’s appeared in ‘Penthouse’.” I looked at her with a smile on my face. “When I was fifteen or so that would have been my second favourite fantasy.”

“So, what would have been the first?”

“Playing soccer for Arsenal!”

Despite my apparent equanimity I cannot say that I wasn’t anxious one week later when I went into the newsagents to buy the magazine. I scanned the top shelf and saw it at once. It was quite easy to spot too, because Kate was adorning the front cover. I tried to be as casual as possible as I paid for it at the till. As soon as I was indoors I ripped the cellophane off and opened it at the centre. There she was in all her naked glory. I looked at the other pictures and I was bowled over. Kate looked absolutely stunning. The photographs had been taken on a deserted beach. In some of them she was wearing skimpy beachwear; in others she was completely naked. But with or without the beachwear, in or out of the water, standing up or lying down, she looked incredibly sexy.

Kate came round my flat that evening. We were planning to go out for dinner.

“I bought it on the way home, Kate, and I’ve been looking at your pictures ever since.” I paused for a moment. “I think they’re fantastic!”

Her smile said it all. “I’m glad you like them.”

“Like them? I love them! I can’t imagine why you were so worried about it all.”

“Well I knew you weren’t the jealous type. But even so…”

That was true, I wasn’t the jealous type but I was the inquisitive type. What had happened in the shoot, I wondered. If I had been the photographer I would have tried to screw her. I wondered if he had tried it on. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask her. I might just as well have asked her if she had had sex with any of her previous boyfriends. The fact is it had nothing whatsoever to do with me.

We went out to dinner although to be perfectly honest I wasn’t hungry; well not for food, anyway. I can’t remember what we had to eat, but there is one thing I do remember. I remember constantly wondering if anything had happened when she was naked in front of the photographer. And every time I thought about it I got an erection.

We were back in my flat lying on the floor in front of the fire and kissing. I had undone her blouse and was struggling to unhook her bra. Eventually I managed it and was able to slip the cups up and over her breasts. It was hard to believe that here I was, actually fondling the selfsame breasts that were prominently displayed on the top shelf of maybe five hundred branches of W H Smith’s. What a claim to fame! I was kissing them and sucking on her nipples when I felt her hand unzipping me. Soon she had her hand clasped around my erection. I stood up in order to remove my clothes. She lay on her back looking up at me as I did so. She had already removed her blouse and slipped off her bra. Now that I was completely naked I knelt down in front of her and undid her skirt. I grasped the waistband and began to slide it down. She raised her hips so as to make it easier for me. All she was now wearing were her panties and her stockings. I held her ankles in one hand and raised her legs in the air. I was thus able to hook my fingers into the top of her panties at the back and to remove them, by sliding them up her raised legs. Once I had slipped them over her feet I lowered her legs, gently easing them apart at the same time. In this position it was very easy for me to fasten my mouth on her femininity. God, she was so wet! I wallowed in her silken wetness and licked her to a rapid climax.

It was my turn now! I was looking at her face as I slipped into her without effort.

“Kate, those photos are fabulous. You really do look fuckable!” Not the most erudite of compliments, I know but given my state of intense arousal, it was the best I could come up with.

“You really do like them?”

“Absolutely.” My impending release had given me courage. “Were you turned on? You certainly look as if you were.”

“Yes, I was actually, it was incredibly erotic. At that moment I wanted him more than anything else in the world.”

“Him?”

“Simon, the photographer.”

“And did he?”

“Yes!”

“Bloody hell, Kate!” And then I was ejaculating into her. I don’t think I have ever come so much or for so long. It wasn’t just the photos that had got me going. It was the fact that she had screwed the photographer. I wondered afterwards if I was normal to have been so turned on by this event.

For a while I was the envy of my friends. They would joke that whilst they could now see what I saw in her, they still couldn’t understand what it was that she saw in me. In fact I did sometimes wonder myself. I could make her laugh, I suppose, but apart from that I wouldn’t have said that I was much of a catch. Maybe it was simply the attraction of opposites. But whatever her reasons, she seemed to be just as much in love with me as I was with her. We got married two years later. I have never felt so proud as I did the day we walked down the aisle after our wedding.

Married life was wonderful. It wasn’t just the physical side although that was great. Kate was such a good companion, such a lovely person, so generous natured, and so determined to make me happy. Life could not have been sweeter. And then it all began to unravel.

We were brought crashing back to earth when Kate’s sister, Jamie, became seriously ill. She was diagnosed as having a rare condition that affected her whole nervous system. The condition was life threatening and there was no known cure. Kate was distraught; she and her sister were very close indeed. They only had each other; their mother and father had been killed in a car crash a number of years earlier. The only possible hope was a clinic in the USA that had had some success with a revolutionary new treatment. The problem was the cost. We reckoned we needed at least £20000. The only way we could raise the money was by taking out a loan on our house. Kate was prepared to work longer hours to help with the finance.

However before we completed the preliminaries with the bank I lost my job. There had been an ongoing downturn in the economy and I was made redundant. I wasn’t the only one in this predicament; there were now about two and a half million other people in the same situation. This naturally meant that there was far more competition on those rare occasions when new jobs did became available. In fact most positions were no longer advertised in the national press because a company would then be inundated with hundreds of applications.

I was now in a position where I had no job, and had very little chance of getting a new one. We were already struggling to meet the original payments on our house and borrowing more money was out of the question. Selling the house was the only option but house prices were falling as the recession took hold. We called in the estate agents but once they gave us the value we realised that there would be no more than a couple of thousand pounds left over by the time we had settled the outstanding mortgage and paid all the fees. In short there was nothing to be gained by selling it. The house losing its value didn’t worry me. Neither, for that matter did losing my job because I knew that in time I would bounce back. Jamie, sadly, did not have the luxury of time and we were at our wit’s end. I was totally unprepared when the solution presented itself.

“I bumped into Sarah today.”

I was watching some football on the television. I glanced up at Kate. “Who’s Sarah?”

“I have spoken about her before. She was working for ‘Penthouse’ when I was featured in it. Well, she’s now moved on and is working freelance.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Kate, but I am trying to watch the football.” It was a really exciting game; end to end stuff. Why do women always choose these moments to talk?

“Pardon me for breathing! I just thought you might be interested to know we may be able to get the money we need for Jamie!”

Talk about feeling like a heel. I turned the set off and looked expectantly at her “How?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Sarah and I hadn’t seen each other for a long while so we went and had a coffee together. I told her about Jamie and about everything else. She thinks she might be able to help. She runs an agency for glamour models. Her main clients are the men’s magazines. She can offer me some work in this area. The only problem is that glamour modelling is not that well paid anymore. However, every so often she gets asked if any of her girls would be interested to do something a bit more raunchy, maybe an adult film. Some girls are, because there is quite a bit of money to be made, certainly far more than they are ever going to get doing glamour shots. Anyway someone was asking about this yesterday. She is going to find out if they are still looking and if so she is going to put my name forward. She said that as I was a former centrefold and still had my looks and figure they would have to be interested.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Kate, are you telling me that you have decided to make blue films?”

“No, I haven’t made any decision. I wouldn’t do anything without discussing it with you first.”

“But you haven’t ruled it out?”

“Well if you want to put it like that, no, I haven’t. It may be that it isn’t hard core, anyway.”

“Just suppose that it is. What then?”

“What if it is? Look, Joe, if this is the only way we can get the money for Jamie, I’ve got to do it. How could I live with myself if I didn’t?” She looked me straight in the eye, defying me to disagree with her.

“I know we have to do everything possible for her, Kate, but I cannot believe that it’s right to do this.”

“Of course it’s not right! No one would say it’s right. But if this is the only way to get the money quickly, I have no choice. You must understand that, surely.”

Her logic was irrefutable. There was no alternative. Jamie was running out of time. Her condition was deteriorating with every passing month. The sought after treatment only held out the prospect of arresting the decline; not of restoring her health. It was therefore vital that it should start at the earliest possible opportunity. It could not wait until I had got a job; that was abundantly clear. This was literally a matter of life or death.