Stalked

Joey Hammond sat in a dark corner of the bar, unobserved and reclusive. A glass of straight Jack Daniels stood in front of him his throat still warm and tingling from his last sup. The blue grey smoke from his third Marlboro of the hour curled in wisps about his head and hung in the stale, motionless air.

He breathed in the smells and aromas of the bar not visited for nearly a year. Familiar smells. And he watched the woman.

Familiar smells. Familiar faces.

He hadn't expected to see her in the bar and, despite his yearlong absence, she appeared not to have changed much. He was certain that he had.

The unexpected sighting of Mary Hammond had thrown his plan out of skew. The drink had been by way of Dutch courage and, after his period of absence, he had to admit that it tasted good. But the plan had been for just the one shot of alcohol before a slow, thoughtful walk to the house that he shared with his wife.

He had rehearsed the introduction speech a thousand times in his mind and was almost pleased with it. It was designed to be delivered to Mary in the comfort of their home, but now, with her sitting just the other side of the bar, the words that jostled for correct order in his mind seemed not to fit the occasion. How could he profess his love for her in a bar? And how, when it was her duty to wait for him, could she be sitting there, laughing and smiling sweetly with another man!

Joey studied his wife's companion. Tall. Dark. Young. Younger than himself. He took another sip from the glass and felt the burning alcohol mix with the acidic bile that was rising from the pit of his stomach.

Mary looked happy and this made Joey Hammond feel all the worse. How could she betray him this way, and with such a flagrant disregard for their marriage?

The cigarette had burned down so far that he could feel the heat singe his yellowed fingers. He stubbed it out quickly in the overflowing ashtray and immediately lit another, inhaling deeply as if the smoke could obliterate his feelings of incensed jealousy. He continued to watch the couple as they finished their drinks.

Thoughts and ideas rushed through Joey's head and, for a moment, his mood lightened as he realised that the tryst that he was witness to might be completely innocent. But this feeling was purely temporary as he watched his wife lean over and plant a loving kiss on the young stranger's lips.

A red mist descended over Joey's mind and the anger began to build. He stood – still unobserved – and was about to cross the bar, fists at the ready. But Mary and her companion were suddenly leaving. Their glasses drained, purses and keys were collected from the table as they walked, casual and oblivious to his presence, towards the door.

Joey knew that he should think before acting – this oversight had landed him in trouble before – but in this situation a quick decision was called for. He would follow them.

The walk was not far and took the opposite route to that of Joey's home. He kept a safe distance behind the couple. They held hands, obliterating any possibility of innocence, in Joey's mind, and laughed and joked frequently. Their light-hearted chatter drifted on the light breeze back to Joey and incensed him. Haunted him.

The couple turned the corner of the street and, for a moment, Joey lost sight of them. He hurried – not running but a sort of hasty scamper – to the corner and peered round.

Although the air was still warm and humid, the evening was drawing in. The light fading fast as the gloom of night began to descend. Joey hated the night. Hated the dark.

Mary and the young man had stopped in the street outside a small, compact one-storey house. It was a nondescript sort of place; white painted boards and small rectangular windows. The type of house that lined the streets of towns all over the country.

As Mary and her companion – lover? – entered the house, Joey spotted a side gate. The latch was old and creaked a little but, apart from this noise, he was able to slip silently into the rear garden area.

The sodium street lamp cast dark shadows around a grassed area that looked untended and a little wild and caused Joey to shiver slightly. The trees and bushes looked just as unkempt and proliferated throughout the garden. He quickly found a dense area that afforded him a view directly into the bedroom window.

Joey watched again as Mary – or "The Bitch", as he had now dubbed her – and her young man entered the bedroom.

Mary looked tanned and healthy – healthier than Joey did, at least. His year away had done nothing for his physique. She wore a simple pair of denim shorts, – a little too short, Joey thought – a white halter top and sandals. Her long, blonde hair, longer than he had remembered it, fell in curls about her shoulders and cascaded halfway down her back.

Immediately the couple were inside the usually private room, the young, handsome man took Joey's wife in his arms. They kissed deeply and Joey watched them as their tongues entwined and probed. There was heat there; that was plainly apparent, and as the embrace continued it became obvious to Joey that the two would not simply be getting into bed and falling asleep.

As if reading his mind, Mary unhooked the button at the waistband of her shorts, kicked off her sandals and shimmied the denim down her long, slender legs. She wore a pretty pair of blue panties and Joey could see his archrival eying her body with lustful anticipation.

The young man seemed quite at home and smiled at Mary as he pulled her to him again. His hands gripped the hem of her halter-top and eased the tight garment up and over her breasts. Joey gasped from his uncomfortable position as he realised the "The Bitch" hadn't even bothered to wear a bra.

Joey looked on as the young man began to maul the pert, round orbs of Mary's breasts. Her face seemed a picture of joy and contentment as she allowed him to roll the stiffening nipples between his fingers and Joey caught the little squeal of lustful joy as the man's fingers then stroked gently over the fabric of her panties between her legs.

Mary's lover quickly shed his jeans and Joey gasped again. The bulge in his shorts looked impressive. No, more than impressive, Joey thought. Huge! Mary helped him off with his shirt and the couple tumbled back onto the bed laughing in their state of near nakedness.

Joey wanted to act. He wanted to dash into the fray like a gladiator. He wanted to save the damsel in distress. But there was no damsel in distress, no one in distress at all, he realised angrily. "The Bitch" was a more than willing participant in this adulterous scene. Joey still wanted to slake his thirst for revenge but, strangely, something held him back. It was as if something was making him powerless to do anything but watch.

As both Mary and her lover shed the last vestiges of their clothes, Joey could see that his first, reluctant impressions of the young man were correct. His muscles bulged in all the right places and his almost perfect physique seemed to compliment Mary perfectly. But the man's biceps were not what Joey – or Mary – were presently concerned with. The protrusion of manly flesh that stood firm and proud from his groin was indeed enormous. For a second Joey smiled as the proportions looked faintly comedic in relation to the rest of his body, but this, almost pleasant feeling was quickly doused as he saw the way that Mary looked at her lovers cock. Her expression said it all: lust; greed; hunger.

Now on her hands and knees on the bed, Mary crawled towards her lover and, in particular, that part of his body that she so clearly craved. Joey looked on as her fingers curled slowly around the throbbing shaft and guided it towards her mouth. It looked to him far too large to fit between her lips. But "The Bitch" had other ideas. Her mouth opened so impossibly wide that Joey thought her jaw might dislocate.

Slowly she took him inside her mouth. There was a smile on the young man's face as he looked down at Mary. His fingers gently pulled her head towards him as he eased another inch of inflamed meat between her lips. Joey realised that his wife was finding it hard not to gag on her lovers hardness but that she was clearly trying to get as much of his enormous appendage inside her mouth as she possibly could.

Joey watched the young man slowly rock his hips back and forth. His eyes were closed, lost in the sensuous emotions that were overwhelming him. He seemed content to have no more than a third of his shaft in Mary's mouth and was building up a steady rhythm.

Joey moved closer to the window. He was apprehensive about being observed by the occupants therein, but his need to see more – and possibly hear – was greater than the fear of being apprehended. With his nose almost pressed up against the pane he was happy that his view would be uninterrupted.

"Oh baby! I want you inside me now!"

Joey was delighted. He had been correct in his assumption that moving closer would provide him with auditory stimulus as well as visual. His wife's pleadings were faint but clearly discernable.

The young man seemed more than pleased with Mary's suggestion and, extricating himself somewhat reluctantly from her mouth, pulled her down onto the bed with him.

Joey looked on as "The Bitch" turned on her side and opened her legs wide. Her lover, his hard cock still throbbing and twitching but now with a sheen of saliva over the top third, crawled up behind her and pulled her leg up and back over his body. This operation pulled Mary's clean shaven pussy wide open and put her moist labia in a direct line with his cock.

Joey wanted to close his eyes as the young man began to ease his big tool into Mary's pussy. He was jealous as hell – and angry – but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the spectacle he was witnessing. He could feel the strange pressure of his own erection and used his hand to press on the front of his grimy jeans to adjust himself into a more comfortable position.

The minutes passed slowly as Joey watched his wife and the stranger as they coupled. He could see that Mary's pussy was stretched to the limit as she took more and more of the turgid meat that was being fed her. The room was full of moans and sighs that assaulted Joey's senses until he felt he could take no more. His own cock ached painfully and was in dire need of relief. He unzipped silently and withdrew the solid but small member. Masturbation seemed to be the obvious solution.

As Joey stroked his shaft slowly he could hear his wife's moaning increasing in pitch until it became almost a wail. She was cumming and cumming hard.

"The Bitch!" thought Joey as he caressed his balls. "The Bitch is cumming with another man's cock in her cunt!"

"You want my cum, baby?"

Joey's strangled thoughts were quickly returned to the window as he heard Mary's lover speak for the first time. His voice was deep and resonant and a wicked smile swept over his face. He had withdrawn his glistening telephone pole from Mary's body and was slowly stroking the length; keeping himself on the edge.

If Mary did answer then Joey didn't hear her. Any vocal sound that she might have made was lost as her lover once again introduced the head of his mighty weapon into her mouth. But this time he was not as slow and gentle as he was before. This time he was close to climax and was urging Mary to swallow as much of his swollen weapon as she could.

Joey gripped his own cock hard in his hand as he heard the orgasmic groan of his rival. His face was pressed up against the window and he jerked himself hard and fast as he watched the young man empty the contents of his balls onto Mary's sweet face and between her pert breasts. He seemed to keep cumming and cumming; great wads of sperm pooled in the valley of Mary's cleavage and splashed her face.

Joey bit his tongue. If he hadn't he was sure that he would have cried out. There were bells going off in his head as the semen spurted from the tip of his penis and splashed the wall.

As he drew breath the bells were still there – bells or sirens?

Joey's cock still hung limp from his fly when he felt the familiar hand of law enforcement grip his collar. He turned and looked up pathetically into the uniformed face and knew that he was returning to jail.

"But my wife….The Bitch…" he stammered.

Neighbours were beginning to open doors and wander out onto the pavement, intrigued as to what was going on. Joey could hear the words being uttered in disgusted, middle class tones: "Pervert." "Peeping-Tom." "Appalling in this neighbourhood!"

"But she's my wife!" Joey repeated, wailing pitifully as if in some way he might make a defence.

Suddenly, as he felt the cold bite of metallic handcuffs close around his wrists, Mary and her lover were standing in front of him.

"Oh my God! Joey!" Mary cried. Her hand was in front of her mouth and her words were muffled.

"Do you know this man?" The uniformed policeman asked incredulously.

"Yes…I mean…I did. Joey and I were married. For about a week! But that was nearly five years ago. He had a breakdown. I thought that he was in Belmonte Hospital. I haven't seen him since we were divorced over four years ago."

As he was ushered into the back of yet another squad car, Joey was smiling. A wild, manically insane grin. In his confused, tortured mind he now recalled the stark walls of the hospital wards; the shock treatment; the smell of urine and depression. He remembered the last hearing he received; the suits saying that he would be there for another five years, and he remembered his escape and the feeling of freedom.

But there would be other opportunities, he thought, other escapes. Nothing could ever keep him from his Mary.