Stein um Stein

As she worked she undressed herself, by the time she had all her clothes off he had a full erection, throbbing as she held his full length inside her mouth and throat. Without taking him from her, she pushed him backwards towards the bed. Staying on her knees she walked him backwards until the back of his knees touched the bed frame and mattress. Reaching up to his chest she pushed him back and he allowed himself to lay back on the bed, still with him in her mouth she moved herself to follow, encouraging him with a slight gentle nip of her teeth to move further onto the bed. She released the gentle grip her teeth had on him and still with him fully inside her she circled him to a sixty nine position, it was only when she tried to lower herself to his face that he resisted.

He held her, his hands at the top of her thighs, cupping her buttocks, spreading her open before him. Unperturbed she began to move her head up and down, her mouth repeating the devotions she had focused on under the dining table. He examined her opening, pulling her lips apart with his thumbs, before releasing her and delving deep within her with his index fingers. Then he again held her open to peer deep inside.

Satisfied she was clean, he allowed her descent, guiding her onto his mouth. Tentatively at first, he licked around her opening. Working his way around her hole, then spending time, teasing around, but not touching her clitoris. His hands now touching only her buttocks, still spreading her open as he began to tongue along her lips, gently stimulating her clitoris with a flat soft tongue. Softly as he penetrated her, licking at her inner lips, he stroked a finger across her anus. He noted it opened slightly in response, hinting at its readiness for access. He stroked across again and as it dilated he paused, watching in fascination as it opened further as her kept his finger stationary. He felt her lift her head, and she jerked herself backwards, impaling herself on his finger.

It was a new sensation for Martin, his finger explored her unknown recess, astonished at how different the reality was from his imagination. He had expected the to feel a tight tube beyond the sphincter, which in itself caught him out. Instead of a deep tightness gripping his finger, it was shallow maybe only 7mm before opening wide, loose and warm. One of its many names was the back door, he mused. Who knew there was a whole room behind it?

As he smiled at his silent joke Angie spoke to him. "I thought you might like to do me there again, I made sure it was clean for you." her voice breaking his concentration. "I would like it if you did."

He didn't need her to repeat her offer, removing his finger he pushed her forwards and moved to his knees. "Wait let me get some lube." she asked as he pushed inside. He noticed she felt tighter than she had yesterday and didn't bottom out until he had made several strokes. "Please let me use some lube, it hurts." she pleaded.

"Didn't hurt you yesterday and you were a virgin then." he snarled.

His words shook her, he was right, as far as he knew, she was a virgin, she thought. As far as he knew she was dry yesterday not slick with her lovers discharge. Silently she bore the pain of his onslaught as he pounded into her. Silently she regretted the day she had allowed Francois Grimard into her bed.

After he was spent he rolled away from her, his cock felt as if it were glowing, the friction from their unlubricated anal sex had a toll for both of them. Angie moved and headed to the bathroom, cooling her sore ring with cold water and a flannel, flinching as water and salty semen flowed into the tears that her husbands assault had caused. She sobbed silently to herself not from the physical pain, nor from the act of violation her normally gentle husband had just subjected her to. She sobbed because of the guilt she felt.

What has gotten in to him she wondered as she looked in the cabinet for some soothing ointment. After tending to herself she returned to bed finding Martin snoring away merrily. She lie down next to him and began to sob again, sleep did not come easily for her.

Angie stirred briefly as Martin shut the alarm off. He looked at her sleeping form, from her position and the occasional grimaces that contorted her face he could see her slumber was anything but peaceful. "Good" he thought as he swung his legs out of bed.

He buried himself into his work, trying to ignore the unwelcome thoughts that bombarded his mind. Occasionally he would give up fighting them and sit back trying to rationalise it all, weighing up the pros and cons of his situation. His problem was he could see very few pro's, and a huge list of cons. He had thought they had a good life, he'd thought she was as devoted to him, as he was to her. He had loved her, possibly still did. He definitely loved the woman he had thought he had, but he hated what she had become. He could even think about forgiving her infidelity, especially if the new improved version was what he had to look forward to, what he couldn't forgive was her disgusting actions. He hated the disgusting trollop she had become for another man, that wasn't the woman he had fallen in love with, the woman he had married.

Nausea overcame him as he remembered watching his wife, contaminating both his food and herself, he vomited into his waste basket. He was still heaving when Curtis came into his room.

"Feeling rough Martin?" he asked, without concern. "Someone you ate?"

If Martin had not had his face in the basket he would have seen the odious smirk on the face of his employer, and he would have known he was privy to Martin's dishonour. However the meaning of his comment was not lost by the object of his ridicule. Martin heaved again, resolving that just dying was not enough.

"Sorry, not feeling too good." said Martin wondering why he was apologising. "Excuse me, back in a moment."

Martin left Curtis and headed to the toilet. He cleaned himself up, and as he flushed the vomit from his mouth he decided to leave. He would take the rest of the week off, he had no reason to worry about keeping his job now, he was going to be officially dead in a week.

"Feeling better?" Curtis enquired as Martin entered his office.

"Not really, I think I will head home for the day. I will either be in tomorrow or I will phone."

Curtis did not answer, he was not used to Martin being assertive in any way, especially when he was under the weather.

As he drove home Angie was trying to break up with her lover, she was not doing very well.

"Listen bitch, you belong to me now, you will do what I want, when I want. If you want your hubby not to know what you have been doing with me, or to him." The calmness in his voice unnerved Angie, she was glad this conversation was happening over the phone and not face to face. "And don't be stupid enough to try and throw yourself on his mercy and confess, not if you want him to remain in good health."

"But Frank, I shouldn't have been with you, it was wrong and it is unthinkable that you are wanting to share me with your friends, leave me be." she pleaded.

"Bitch I ain't going to fuck you anymore anyway. Now you work for me, and you will fuck anyone and everyone I tell you too." Still his voice remained calm. "Now stop bitching or I won't send your pansy husband away and I'll make him watch.

"Noooo, you can't. Angie stared at the phone after Franky had hung up. If she had regretted her involvement before, now she understood what she had gotten herself into she was terrified, both for herself and Martin. When she heard his car pull up outside she wanted to die.

3

Martin had been thinking as he drove home, an idea had hit him on his way out of his office. Now he was working out what he needed to implement it. He pulled up outside his house, and sat for a while, going over the last details in his mind. He smiled to himself, it was ingenious in it's simplicity with only one complication, if it worked he was home free if not he would have to go with the plan laid out to him by his anonymous copper.

He heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs as he slid his key into the lock, when he entered he could hear the shower start to run. "Have I just missed a visit from Franky" he wondered.

He was brewing tea when she came down, he looked at her and asked. "Your eyes are red, been crying?"

"No" she cried defensively, "I got soap in my eyes."

"Bit late to be taking a shower." A statement not a question, his voice had an edge to it, an edge he didn't want.

"I had a rough night, slept in, er, I haven't been up long. Er, why are you home?" she replied.

"I was chucking up, came home sick." he said as he checked around the room, looking for signs that she had had company. He could see none.

"I think I will go and lie down for a while." As he spoke he watched for signs of guilt, signs that she didn't want him to see a freshly used bed. He saw both guilt and fear, a little more of the love he once had, slipped from his grasp.

He was pleased to find that although the bed was unmade, but there were no signs of fresh infidelity. He pulled the quilt straight and lay down upon it.

He lay upstairs for an hour or so trying to iron out the one complication in his plan. It was easy if he didn't have a "chaperone" as the cop with no name had called it. Try as he might, he could not see a way past that. The only thing he could think of required a change to his normal routine, and he had a viable excuse for that. He clapped his hands together with glee and jumping up from the bed pulled out two suitcases and began packing.

After he closed the second case he walked down to his wife, he could see she had been crying some more.

"You have been crying darling, it is because I treated you so roughly last night isn't it?"

Grateful of the excuse he offered she agreed that it was.

"I think we should go away for a few days." he told her. "Try to sort ourselves out, we seem to be getting it all wrong, when I want you, you don't want me and vice versa, I hope after a short break we will be back in sync."

Her eyes lit up for a second, then the fear returned. "H'how long for?"

"I'll call Charles in a while, if he says no then we will leave tomorrow night as soon as I get home and come back late Sunday, or I could phone in sick tomorrow and we could leave right now, but if he says yes, I will try for all next week." He gave her a couple of seconds to ingest what he had just said. "So up to you, do we take a definite three days, or do we risk that for a possibility of a good ten days, that could well be only two."

As she answered, she knew it wouldn't be ten days, at the most it would be seven but the idea of being away from any prospect of Frank fucking Grimard turning up on her doorstep demanding she fuck him or some other bastard, getting away from that, for any time was to be jumped at. "Yes, oh, yes please, where shall we go."

"Lets decide that when we know how long I can take off." He smiled. "I made a pot of tea earlier, I doubt it's still drinkable."

"I'll make a fresh one." She offered reaching for the kettle.

Over a cup of tea they chatted weighing up possible destinations things they would like to do or see, both remembering how this was how it used to be between them, both covering up their own secrets, their own agendas.

Martin waited till just after half past three before he called Charles Chiswick.

"Hello Charles, Martin here."

"Curtis said you went home ill, are you feeling better?"

"Somewhat, still feeling a little queasy, I think it's best if I take tomorrow off too, er, but I er, was er, wondering could I take next week off as holiday, Angie and I have been talking and we would like to get away for a few days."

"That would be alright with me hang on I will check with Curtis to make sure he has nothing planned for you."

Martin could hear a mumbled conversation, he assumed Charles had covered the mouthpiece. After a couple of minutes Charles spoke to him.

"We will need you back at the end of next week, so we will see you Thursday goodbye."

Martin had never gotten used to the way both Charles and Curtis ended a call, goodbye and hangup, no chance for whoever was on the end to say cheerio. Martin turned to Angie, "We are coming home Wednesday."

Angie forced a smile, she had hoped for a while there would be a way out of her predicament.

"I suppose that means you will be heading over to Europe again?" she proffered.

"He didn't say?" he answered, both of them knew he hadn't needed to.

Martin fetched the suitcases down from the bedroom and locked them in the boot.

"I didn't realise you had already packed, do you want to get going immediately?" said Angie.

"Ready when you are" he replied.

"Um um, I'll just use the loo."

As soon as she was out of sight he looked in her handbag, he was pleased to see no syringe. He took her phone out and kicked it under a chair, closing her handbag he took it out to the car. He was returning inside when she met him at the door.

"Have you seen my handbag?" she asked.

"Yes, I just put it in the car, come here, we might as well start as we mean to continue." He grabbed her and pulled her close, he kissed her passionately, running his hands over her body, or as far as he was concerned, her pockets, he was still checking for a syringe.

Martin loved to drive, he is one of those people that holds an atlas in his head, perhaps it was the numbers, he held them in his head too. As he picked his way north and west until he connected with the A1 at Retford. From there they headed north for another couple of hours, before finding a hotel for the night. Conversation had been sparse, both of them thinking about their own situation. Angie could think of nothing other than ways of getting herself out of her predicament. Hopefully, without her husband finding out. She had in the last few days, either remembered her love for him, or fallen back in love with him.

Martin had his own thoughts, he was still angry with her for the betrayal and the sheer bloody disrespect she had shown him, and he needed to pay her back, however he did not want the woman he had loved to be used as a whore for the man he now hated.

She ravaged him once the door to their room was shut, but she did ask that he give her arsehole a rest. She was still sore from the pounding he gave her last night. Tonight he did not just fuck her and feign sleep, he made love to her, doing to her everything he could, to keep her in ecstasy. His devotions giving her orgasm after orgasm. When he finally let her rest she was asleep in seconds. He made sure she was asleep and dressed quietly, then he left the room and went to his car.

They showered and put on clean clothes before an early breakfast, Martin wanted to get a few miles under their belts before the traffic thickened. As Angie had repacked their suitcases putting their dirty clothes in a plastic bag she was puzzled at how dirty Martins clothes had seemed to get over night.

Their next stop was to be Rosslyn chapel, a place they had visited years before Dan Brown had made it famous. They agreed it looked better now the roof had been restored, and the protective covering over it that had made it look like a Dutch barn had now gone. Later that afternoon they headed into Edinburgh. Martin took no notice when the oil warning light came on. They took a hotel in Edinburgh, a very late lunch followed by more sightseeing, they did the castle and the ghost walk (Royal mile ghost tour) before returning to the hotel for a late dinner. Martin sampled many of the single and double malt nectars on offer. So many, Angie had to get assistance helping him to their room. Needless to say, no ones toes were curled that night, and there was no early start in the morning.

They only just made the ten thirty checkout time, and Martin insisted on going for another walk around the city. She thought it was so he could sober up, he however had other plans. They wandered around, and Angie found herself looking at the displayed work of an upmarket hair salon, Martin told her to go in and see if they could fit her in, they could. While she had her hair done he hit the local branch of his bank and drew out a substantial sum. He also paid for the months accommodation that he had arranged yesterday. He bought himself a scotch pie and a bottle of pop before meeting back with Angie. After retrieving the car, they continued heading north. Martin continued to ignore the oil warning light and when Angie mentioned how noisy the engine was, he assured her it was nothing to worry about. They got almost to junction 2 on the M90 when the engine screamed and died accompanied by a cloud of black oily smoke. It was only then that Angie discovered she had no phone.

Martin called for roadside assistance as they waited to be rescued, Angie complained to him about not picking up her phone.

"But it's always in your handbag, are you sure you haven't lost it somewhere? Besides I have mine, you can use that if you want." he retorted. "I doubt there will be much of a service anyway, once we get where we are going."

She had no answer, she didn't really need her own phone, the only time it was used was to talk to her girlfriends and when she was told to get ready because Frank was on his way.

The AA man came and told them the engine was dry, no oil, it had seized. Martin was silently impressed that it had lasted so long since he "doctored" it that first night.

"No matter it's a company car." Martin assured her as they were transported to a suitable repair place. "We will hire a car, and get reimbursed for it when we get back.

Less than four hours later they were again heading up the M90 in an almost new Toyota Auris. Less than three hours after that they pulled up outside a small croft with no other sign of anything resembling civilization in sight. They had seen no other habitation for over half an hour as Martin had driven along the maze of lanes.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Somewhere in the middle of the Grampians, at least twenty miles from anyone else that I know of." he said as he went round the side of the croft, finding a stack of dried peat he fumbled around."

"Ah, here it is." he said.

"What?"

"The key, got to love their sense of security up here." he said grinning.

"You planned this without telling me, how?"

He didn't answer her. They explored the croft, finding it adequately furnished, but still sparse in places, they were both amazed at the thickness of the stone walls. They found the larder, fridge and freezer well stocked, for two people it would last well over a month.

In the secluded location, aside from walking or stargazing, there was little to do other than getting reacquainted with each others bodies. Over the next few days they did just that Fucking, sucking, licking and fingering every inch, every hole, of each other with passions that would put newly married teenagers to shame.

The reminder Martin had set on his phone told him it was Wednesday morning. As he shut off the alert he gulped. Now was time to have the confrontation, time to tell her what he knew.

He made a pot of tea and took them to the bedroom where she lay, the flush of a well fucked woman glowed from her cheeks.

"Oooh, sweetie, thankyou." she mewed.

"Angie, I have something I must say, must tell you." he blurted out, she looked at him. Seeing the discomfort on his face, she asked."Whats wrong sweetie?"

"I know Angie." he replied.

"You know what Darling." she asked. Fearful of the answer.

"All of it Angie, everything, what you have been doing with that black bastard, and what he had planned for you this weekend." He chocked back a sob. "And what makes it even worse is what you have been doing to me."