A Sticky Wicket Ch. 01

"But why did she have to interfere?" said Wendy, petulantly.

"Because she did something you obviously don't do! She cared about me! She cared enough to look after my interests when you were enjoying a new life as the fucking village bike!"

Wendy's face flushed. "I am not the village bike!"

"Oh, OK, Wendy," sneered Jack. "I apologise. You'ree only the cricket club's bike!"

"What do you want, Jack?" she asked.

"I rather think I want a divorce, actually, to be honest."

Wendy gasped. "A divorce? But why?"

He sat back in his chair and threw his hands up clapped them on his head. "Dear God, woman! I caught you fucking eleven of my former friends! I threw up because I saw all of their spunk gush out of your gaping cunt! The question isn't why I might want a divorce, but why wouldn't I want a fucking divorce!"

"Can't we get through this?"

"Get through the fact that you had unprotected sex with eleven men, allowing them to come off in your cunt more than once? That you allowed, even encouraged them to talk shit about me, that you laughed at my expense when they made mock of me! How, Wendy? Please tell me how we can get through this? Please tell me how I can get through this?

"We could get Doctor Collins to arrange counselling for us?" Wendy sounded hopeful.

"You fucking moron!" shouted Jack. "You seem to forget that I can no longer go to see that fuckhead Doug Collins, as he was one of the men fucking you!"

Wendy flinched at that. "Oh. I am sorry. I hadn't thought of that!"

"There's a lot you haven't thought of, you stupid, fucking bitch!"

"I wish you'd show me some respect!" snapped Wendy.

The look on Jack's face was priceless. "Show... you some respect? What in the name of fuck do you mean? Oh, hang on! I'll show you some disrespect!"

He stood up and walked over to the coffee table and took her iPad, started it up and plugged a data stick in it and showed her the video that Sarah had recorded.

Wendy watched it, with tears streaming down her face. "Dear God! Oh, dear God! No wonder you want to divorce me! But you weren't meant to see or hear any of that! We, none of us meant any disrespect to you! It was just intended to be a bit of harmless fun! Maybe it went to far?"

"Too far?" Jeez, that's an understatement, if I ever heard one!" He shook his head.

"I can't forgive you for this, Wendy. I'll never be able to get over it."

"Why not?"

"Because if you had just had an affair with Steve, that would have been bad enough. But you had sex with eleven other men. If you'd just stayed at one lover, I might have been able to get over that.

"I'd have had some problems, wondering if your lover was better at sex than I was, if he had a bigger, longer or fatter cock than I did. But with what you did, having sex with eleven other men, I can't compete with that in my own mind. Because the law of averages tells us that out of those eleven other men, of course some of them were better at fucking than I am! Of course some of them were really well endowed, with absolutely huge dicks!

"Any normal person who had a cheating spouse would only have to get over with the fact that when they were making love that their spouse might, however unwillingly, be comparing their stupid, cheated on spouse to their lover.

"But I wouldn't have that luxury, would I, Wendy? Should I ever be stupid enough to stick my cock in your cunt again, I'd know that you were comparing me to at least eleven other men, including my own fucking father!"

At this point, Wendy really began bawling her eyes out. She was trying to speak, but only a few words were intelligible. "Sorry" being predominant.

While she cried he went up to their bedroom, the used to be their bedroom, and cleared out his side of the wardrobe and his drawers in the dressing table. He packed them in a couple of suitcases and took his clothing to his new home, leaving Wendy distraught in the lounge.

Later that afternoon Jack had a horrible meeting with his parents. They sat in the large kitchen of their equally large house. Jack had always felt comfortable and at home in his parents home, the house he had grown up in. Now, he felt like a stranger. He no longer felt at home, there.

Before he could say anything his mother said: "Jack, I feel that we owe you an explanation. Over the past several years, the romantic life between your father and I has declined, greatly. This is due to the fact that I passed through the menopause. However, your father still has a high sex drive. He overheard your friend Steve talking to Doug Collins about their plans for some fun with Wendy at the cricket club and rather than putting a stop to it, he asked if he could join in."

Jack realised that this was yet another level of betrayal that he had not counted on.

"Mother, did you know beforehand that he planned to have sex with my wife?"

His mother looked at Jack, with a gaze that was impossible to fathom. "Yes, Jack, I have to be honest and say that I did know."

"If you two can't have sex any more because its uncomfortable for mother, you could have gone to the chemists and get a tube of K-Y Jelly, you fucking bastards! You do not use my wife as surrogate whore!"

Jack's father said: "Show some respect in my house! If you don't stop swearing I'll..."

Jack cut him off by shouting: "What? What will you do? Hurt me? You stupid twat! Nothing you can do can hurt me any worse than my finding out you were one of my wife's eleven lovers! I am not going to put up with any more of your shit! You are no longer my parents. Good bye!"

The next morning he made a phone call to speak with a firm of solicitors in the neighbouring town of Bankridge. "Gains, Leper Legal, how may I help you?" said the bright and cheerful voice.

"Hello, I'd like to make an appointment to see a partner at your firm to start a divorce action, please?"

"I'll just put you through to the secretary of our Mr Rollings. He's our divorce expert!"

Within ten minutes he had an appointment for early that afternoon. Apparently there had been a late cancellation. His lucky day.

He typed out the list of adulterers and shook his head. None of this seemed real.

Dr Doug Collins (our doctor) Peter Shapell (our solicitor) Nigel Boston (my father) Peter Brickmann, Reverend Barry Cotter (our vicar) Will Downton, Clayton Smith, Arthur Harris, Steve Markham (ex-best friend), Patrick Smee, Donald Ross.

When he handed the list to David Rollings the divorce expert at Gains, Leper, Rollings' eyes had bulged. He said: "This is a long list. Over what period of time has she had these men as lovers?"

Jack swallowed and said: "Just the one morning, actually. Though for some time before with Steve Markham."

"That morning? Dear God! What did she do? Have sex with a cricket...? Oh! Dear God! Oh, my God! That is a cricket team, isn't it? It's the Pottersbridge Cricket Club! Your own father? Christ. I feel for you, young man. Do you have any evidence?"

Jack plugged the data stick into his iPad and let Mr Rollings watch the video. He began taking notes. At one point he paused the video and rang through to his secretary and asked her to cancel and reschedule the rest of his afternoon's meetings. He then started the video again.

Nearly two hours later when the video stopped (when Sarah removed the receiver and drive unit) he sighed and put his pen down. "That's horrible. No wonder you want to name all of the bastards!"

Jack signed up with his company and they instigated the divorce proceedings on the grounds of adultery with 11 different men.

In the UK one does not have to use process servers. The First Class post usually suffices. But Rollings wanted to use old fashioned process servers to hand deliver the divorce petition naming them as adulterers, hopefully embarrassing them into the bargain with a public humiliation.

In theory a divorce can be obtained in about six months in the UK, but the fact that Jack wanted to go for the nuclear revenge option meant that things were delayed.

However, the revenge hit several people well before the divorce hearing started, let alone for the Decree Absolute to be handed down. The vicar was stripped of his parish living, the doctor was sacked by his colleagues at the practice (and awaiting a BMA trial for inappropriate sexual contact with a patient) and their family solicitor was suspended from practising law, pending an ethics and professional standing hearing by the Law Society.

And still it meandered on its not-so-merry way.

Several of the adulterers attempted to have their name struck out of the divorce petition, but their lawyers had to admit failure. As the judge said: "Your client was recorded having sex with the wife of a friend. That the aggrieved husband chooses to sue all of his wife's affair partners for divorce should not, in my opinion, give rise to any questions as to the propriety of his actions, which, if I am honest, are wholly and entirely justified."

Sarah tried to avoid Wendy as much as she could, but ultimately there came a denouement of sorts in the village shop.

Sarah was on the way in whilst Wendy was on the way out. Harsh words were said, mainly by Wendy. Eventually Wendy shouted: "You are trying to steal my husband from me, you bitch! Why? What have you got that I haven't?"

Sarah was the original Non-Confrontational Kid, a hang over from her life before she moved in with her grandmother. But this time she was stung into making a reply. "What have I got Wendy? Let me tell you what I have got, shall I? Legs that stay together and, unlike you, I don't use my cunt as a Tunnel of Love for fucking all-comers!"

Several things happened at the same time. Sarah realised she'd rather have no made that remark, the people in the shop roared their approval at Sarah's remark and, with a sob, Wendy fled the scene.

The confrontation angered Jack. "She had no right to say those things to you, Sarah! No right at all! Do you want me to get Mr Rollings to take an order out forbidding her from approaching you?"

"Hell, no!" said Sarah. "Certainly not! I doubt she'll bother me again." And she didn't.

After a full year, the Decree Absolute was handed down and the marriage was over. As were several other marriages in the cricket club. Collateral damage, one might say.

It was then that Sarah invited Jack out for a drink in the Drover's.

"Jack, this is by way of a celebration of your freedom." He nodded and they clinked their glasses together.

"Jack," she said, tentatively, What do you think of me, as a woman?"

The question caught him unawares, so his answer was perhaps more candid than it might have been. Which was perhaps why Sarah asked the question in the way she did. "You're a very pretty young woman, Sarah. Oh! I hope I didn't..."

She cut him off. "No, you didn't! I am glad you think I am pretty. I think you are handsome, Jack. Very handsome indeed."

"Really, Sarah? I had no idea! When did this come on?"

"I have fancied you rotten since I first saw you!"

By the end of their visit to the pub, they were officially an item.

Their relationship caused some raised eyebrows (she was almost 20, he was 32) but the majority of people in the village thought that it was a sweet story and that Jack deserved some happiness.

One day they were talking and Jack asked Sarah if they could make love? Sarah went beet red and stammered: "Oh, Jack... I have a confession to make, I am still a virgin!"

He smiled at her and said: "Well, that's interesting news, Sarah! This just means I will have to step things up a little!"

He went down on one knee and proposed to her, presenting her with a gorgeous engagement ring. She accepted, with tears running down her face.

The pre-Wedding interview with the new vicar (nobody in the village gave a shit where the previous incumbent the reverend Cotter had gone to) was interesting. After chatting for a few minutes Sarah said shyly to the vicar: "Actually, vicar, I have something to tell you. I am a virgin."

The vicar had smiled and nodded. "Well, that's good. A fairly rare thing, but very good, in my opinion."

She added: "I have known Jack for years. I realised I was in love with Jack, but he was married. But I knew his then wife would cheat on him, eventually. It was only a matter of time." She gripped Jack's hand and smiled at him.

Jack looked at her and said: "Well, what if Wendy hadn't cheated on me?"

"Then I'd have had to have died as a spinster, never having had a man in the Biblical sense of the word!"

The vicar smiled and said: "Now that is love and devotion!"

It was a summer wedding, a day that was warm, yet not too hot. Sarah was in white, not merely to follow tradition but, because it was her right as a virgin.

Her grandmother gave her away and most of the village turned out. A few of the members of what was left of the cricket club turned up. And Wendy attended the wedding. She hung around at the back of the church watching her handsome ex-husband marrying his beautiful bride. She had tears in her eyes as she thought: "I can't blame Sarah for what happened. I was a bloody fool to listen to the blandishments of Steve Markham. And fuck knows why I let him convince me to take on the entire cricket team, especially Jack's own father! It was such a stupid idea! Jack was bound to find out, sooner or later."

The honeymoon started in a hotel in Barmouth in coastal Mid Wales. That night, in the Honeymoon Suite, Jack stood, naked, as he watched his new and bashful bride take off her wedding dress to reveal her new sexy lingerie that she was wearing just for him.

"Jack," she said: "You know it's my first time. I'm not going to insult you by saying crap like: 'Please don't hurt me' because I love and trust you enough to know you'd never hurt me deliberately. But I do have one request, my love."

"OK, what's that?" he asked.

The first time we make love, no condom, OK? And I know what you are going to say! But if I fall pregnant on our honeymoon, then so be it! Come on, Jack! Love me!" And he did.

Nine months later, they were proudly pushing their baby -a boy called Harry, in honour of the grandfather who had died before Sarah was born- round the village.

Life was good.