Seven Year Ditch
TROLLS:
There's a cheating wife here. Put a finger on 'Chris' and track it through to the end. Just for fun, see if you can read it without moving your lips. Then go to the comments section and whine about 'cuck' and 'slut' and so on.
NORMAL PEOPLE:
A revenge story with some sex. As usual, not heavy on body descriptions. Constructive feedback appreciated.
Chris first met Nick when it was pissing down with rain. He was driving to work, wipers at full speed, and there was this drenched man. The bonnet of his car was up and he was standing in front of it, kicking the grille. Chris had to smile. He'd had his fair share of crap cars when farther down the corporate ladder. And couldn't help but laugh when the bonnet crashed down and trapped the guy's tie. He pulled over.
"I don't know much about cars, but can I help?"
He got out and released the catch, and the bonnet shot up again. The man jumped back to avoid getting smacked under the chin, and sat down in a puddle. Chris helped him to his feet and bundled him into his car. They sat side by side for a moment, watching the rain slant down.
"I hate Wednesdays!" he said, more to himself than Chris.
"Too far from both weekends." Chris concurred.
"Now I'm ruining your seat."
"You've ruined your tie too."
It was, well had been, bright yellow, and he held it up and studied it, as if seeing it for the first time. There was a black oily mark across it.
"Fucking loaners!" he shouted.
They looked at each other and laughed.
"I'm Nick Cooper. Thanks."
"I'm Chris Jaggers. You're welcome. I've had cars like that in the past. Been there, done that, got the wet arse!"
"It's not even mine. Mine's in for repair."
They chatted for a couple of minutes. Then Nick dashed to his car and retrieved his suit jacket. Chris handed him a small towel which was always kept in the car. England had a lot of weather like this in the autumn. He wiped his trousers and cleaned his shoes with it. Then combed his hair while Chris drove him to his appointment.
On the way, Nick explained this was an interview for a major contract with a finance company. He was just starting up his own IT / security business, and this might be the big break. Outside the building, he looked at his watch.
"Just in time. Thanks again."
"Your jacket will cover the worst of your wet trousers. Take my umbrella."
"I can't do that, what will you do?"
"I'm a manager Nick. That's why I can do this, and get to work late. I have my own space in the underground carpark. Nearest the lifts I might add."
He took it.
"Don't worry. Everyone will be a bit dishevelled in this weather. Here, take my tie too."
He protested, but did so. They agreed to meet in an Italian restaurant the following Friday evening.
*
"Are you sure you won't come Liv?"
Olivia and Chris had been married two years now. He should know better than say 'Are you sure?' She was always sure.
"Who is this Nick guy again?"
He'd already told her the story of meeting Nick Cooper in Wednesday's rain, but she'd been distracted as usual. So he told her again.
"I'll give it a miss thanks. He wants to thank you, not me. Go and have dinner and a few beers, I'm meeting up with some workmates again tonight anyway."
That night Chris got a new friend. Turned out Nick had been pitching for a contract to provide security to the company, and thought he was merely being assessed. But after a two hour session, was given a document to take away and study. The job was his as soon as he signed.
"Well I manage the contracts department of our buying division." Chris said. "Perhaps I could look at yours."
"You've done enough already. I'm sure it'll be all right."
"People who begin a sentence with 'I'm sure' -- usually aren't. It won't hurt for me to give it the once over."
"But it's Friday, I have to take it in Monday morning."
"No problem. I'll meet you in The Nightjar tomorrow lunchtime. You can buy again."
*
There was no point inviting Olivia to that meeting either. She worked hard during the week and deserved her night out with the girls. He knew she must have overdone it, because there was no rousing her Saturday morning. He left the coffee on, for when she finally surfaced.
The Nightjar was not busy and they found a quiet table. Chris read through the contract.
"Is it all right?"
"It's fine, but you could request one change. They're imposing a six month trial period. It's standard but you'll have a lot of capital invested by then. It's worth asking for it to be reduced to three; show them you're no pushover. The worst they can do is say no."
"OK. I'll try it. By the way, I forgot to give you this."
He handed over the tie.
"Where did you get it?"
"This? I can't remember, I've had it years."
"Only their general manager seemed to be staring at it. And he said 'Nice tie' as I left."
Chris turned it over and examined the label. 'Biddiscombes'.
"My God, it's my old school tie! What was his name?"
"James Prescott. Maybe you could get in touch."
"I remember him! No, nasty piece of work. He'll be fine with you, but I'd rather not see him again!"
"OK. Anyway, it did the job."
*
They remained friends. Nick got invited to dinner many times, and always raved about Olivia's cooking. He remained stubbornly single, and repaid them with expensive restaurant meals. Often they were a foursome, when Nick brought along 'his latest squeeze'. But, attractive as they were, none ever appeared more than twice.
He once confided he liked the idea of being married, but hadn't started looking until after that wet Wednesday when he'd landed his first big deal. Then he'd met Olivia.
"She's spoiling me for anyone else Chris. You two seem to be the perfect couple. Where will I ever find someone like her?"
Chris was about to argue they were not perfect. All marriages had their ups and downs. But what they had was so close to perfection, there was little point in arguing.
"The fact is, I fancy her." confessed Nick. "No-one else measures up. No offence intended."
"None taken. Lots of guys fancy her, it makes me proud. Well, smug might be a better word. She flirts outrageously and seems to make everyone love her. But we know where the lines are drawn, and I trust her implicitly."
"I've flirted with her myself." he confessed.
"I know you have."
"Yes, she told me you both flirt. I've a pretty good idea where your lines are drawn."
*
A year later Nick did something outrageous. His now established company was just beaten to a contract with a massive multi-national. He brazenly informed their CEO they had made a mistake. Once the rival system was installed and tested, Nick by-passed it and stole a million pounds. The new contractor was called in for explanations, before the police got involved.
After thirty minutes of heated recriminations. Nick burst into the meeting and told them what he had done. It was not really stealing of course, the money would be found in the CEO's personal bank account.
"These clowns came to you with a flashy PPT demo, a bunch of fantastic promises, and that lady there... " he pointed, "... flashing her stocking tops!"
He remained silent through the ensuing uproar.
"I'll leave before you throw me out. But get rid of this cheapskate outfit. I've shown you how bad they are. If you use me instead, I'll pay you a million pounds if they can ever break in past my internet defences."
Six months later, they quietly awarded Nick the contract. He increased his staff threefold, and his income by a factor of ten.
*
It was four years later, and Chris and Olivia would celebrate their seven year anniversary in mid-November. It was still some months away but he was wondering what to get her. It was supposed to be copper or wool, which did not sound very romantic. In fact he'd read somewhere that symbols for this anniversary were particularly difficult, because of the so called seven year itch. Even centuries ago, it was recognised as a trying time.
Chris thought it was all nonsense, but it made you think. Olivia seemed to be snappy of late, and their sex life was on the wane. They'd had a holiday in the south of France in early June. She'd enjoyed it well enough, but it did not appear to have given her much of a boost. He tackled her on the subject.
"I know what you mean, and it isn't you." she admitted. "I just feel... I don't know... unfulfilled."
"Maybe we... "
"Stop there Chris. I'm not explaining myself very well. It is not you. I don't need us to change anything. I'm just out of sorts. The menopause isn't for years yet, so it can't be that. Just be patient, it'll blow over."
So they left it at that. But it continued to niggle. Perhaps there was something to this seven year itch, after all.
*
It was mid-June, and they were going to a house-warming party held by Brian Nash. A house extension warming, to be exact. He was on the board of governors at the school where Olivia was deputy head. Chris didn't like him; he always seemed to be looking down his nose at people. She could hardly be expected to stay away from him, but Chris hoped there would be no dancing.
"How do I look?"
"Fantastic, very sexy!"
And she did. The dress was a modest knee-length, and had a scooped neckline and back. The material was wool, and Chris had never seen it before. It was almost flesh-coloured and gaps in the 'knitting' made it nearly see-through.
"Wow!"
She smiled.
"I wanted to buy myself something sexy."
"You succeeded!"
"I know a house-warming party is not the most appropriate showcase for this kind of outfit, but we may not get out much more, before the round of Christmas parties."
"No problem. Are you wearing a bra? It's hard to tell."
"Actually, the weave is tight enough not to be transparent. So I bought these at the same place."
Olivia slipped the dress off her shoulder to display one exquisite breast. Chris noted two things. First, how easily that shoulder slid down, considering how form-fitting the rest of the dress was. Second, her nipple had disappeared!
"They're nipple covers. This dress is supporting, only the neckline is loose, so I don't need a bra. And although the apertures in the weave are not big enough for me to poke through, these are a precaution. For what it's worth, they're non-reflective. In case there's any flash photography!"
"Trust me babe. Every male will be taking home photos of you tonight!"
She grinned.
"You don't disapprove then?"
Chris noticed something in her tone. He was certain that Olivia's decision had been made. She was going to the party dressed like this, whether he approved or not. Part of him was tempted to express reservations. But why rock the boat? It would only provoke an argument, and she was in such a good mood.
"Not at all, as long as you stick to our rules. And I would like to be the one who removes those nipple covers when we get home. Preferably with my teeth!"
"Deal!"
He thought this was the first time she'd sounded really enthusiastic about sex in weeks. Maybe the party would not be so bad after all.
+
And they did have rules. Not written down, but discussed in bits and pieces as they'd first cropped up. Now, after six years of flirting, they were understood and agreed upon. There was no doubt where the boundaries lay; her with other men, and similar rules for him and other women.
Olivia could flash an upskirt or a downblouse, as long as it appeared accidental, and was not too frequent. She could hug anybody, and kisses on the cheek were allowed. A peck on the lips was acceptable on birthdays and public celebrations. When dancing, slight contact with breasts was ok, as was a gentle squeeze of her buttocks.
But the rules were more precisely defined by what was not allowed. No open-mouth kissing and tongues, or aggressive groping of the buttocks. Absolutely no hands under her clothing. Her breasts and thighs, and beyond, were out of bounds. And she would never touch a man's penis, even 'accidentally' through his trousers.
+
In the taxi on the way there, Chris realised he had not enquired about her panties. There was certainly no visible line. Could be a tiny thong, or nothing at all. He didn't dare bring it up now. She'd only accuse him of checking up on her, and he didn't want to spoil the moment. He put one hand on her knee and slid it under the hem of her dress. She picked it up by the wrist and put it on his lap.
"Original pantyhose," she stated. "as opposed to normal tights. It becomes a seamless cotton panty where it needs to. Nude colour of course."
"Of course."
He knew she was answering his unasked question, and felt suitably guilty.
"Olivia! Welcome! Oh, hello Chris."
'And so it begins' he thought. 'Subtle, but only just.'
Brian Nash gave Olivia a bear-hug, and lifted her off the floor. Far too enthusiastic; he wasn't even a work colleague. The greeting was noticed by some of the people nearby. As an afterthought, he shook Chris's hand, a brief pump that was unnecessarily hard.
He whisked her away 'to meet some of my people', holding her arm. Chris sighed, but thought about the sex he hoped to have later.
"Bossy bastard isn't he?" said a voice in his ear.
"Nick! Haven't seen you for ages! I didn't know you'd be here. How long have you known our host?"
"Come on, let's get a beer."
He steered Chris to a table set up as a bar.
+
"You haven't seen me because I've been out of the country. Croatia to be precise."
"Holiday?"
"Yes and no. I'm building a house in Orebic, a villa really. Building regs are complicated but we're getting there. Adriatic coast, orange trees, clean sea, clean air and English spoken, if not widely."
"Wow! You're leaving us?"
"Not exactly. I'm making so much money, next year I'll become a tax exile; only live here five months of the year. I already divert a lot of my income to the Cayman Islands. From there, it's redirected to Croatia. You'll have to come and visit once it's completed. I tell you: Croatia has the most beautiful girls in the world!"
Chris looked across the room and saw Olivia chatting with Brian and 'his people'. She looked animated.
"I've asked you before, but I'll try again. Why don't you leave your company, and work for me?" asked Nick.
"You did ask before, and I bleated about pensions and job security. But you still seem to be on the up and up."
"I am. And I can pay you double what you're getting now. Fund your own bloody pension!"
"I must say, it's tempting. But IT is not my strong suit; my mobile phone is still playing up and I can't figure it out. Sure, a change would be good, but I would not want to be hanging around like a spare part. The Victorian work ethic and all that."
"But my reps go out and get the work, and my techies do the installations and testing. I actually need a contracts manager, like you. We fucked one up recently and got taken to the cleaners. I could afford the loss of course, but it's the principle of the thing; I don't like being screwed. If we'd had you on board, you'd have spotted it. Shit, if you wanted to move, you could do the job from anywhere."
"I'll think about it."
+
Olivia was buzzing. She'd been attracted to Brian Nash for years though never done anything about it. But recently their paths had often crossed, and she thought he looked more handsome than ever. He told her his wife was going through the menopause and had gone off sex completely. He was frustrated and strangely, so was she.
The holiday in France with Chris had been lovely, yet somehow unstimulating. She had no intention of leaving him; he was a good husband and a great provider. But, increasingly, she felt she needed more. Excitement? Danger? She wasn't sure.
*
She knew her friend Caroline had gone through the same thing, and had discussed it with her husband. Finally, Geoff had given her a 'Get out of jail free card', for one weekend only. Caroline had gone away to a small hotel in the Cotswolds, with a young stud from her office. She claimed they'd had sex more than a dozen times. She had returned to her husband rejuvenated. Now their sex life was better than ever. She would never stray again.
Caroline had insisted that it was nothing to do with how well hung the man was. It was simply everything. The sheer difference. His enthusiastic efforts, his lack of technique, lack of body hair. Olivia envied her. She doubted if she could ever get Chris to agree to something like that; he was far too wrapped up in their 'rules' for one thing.
She had told Caroline about flirting with Brian, but Caroline had stopped her. It was get your husband's agreement, or don't do it. They had argued and she had refused to go swimming with Olivia. Ironically, she bumped into Brian that same day. He'd gone with her, and there had been some fooling around in the pool, and even more in his car afterwards.
+
"Enough Brian! I served my apprenticeship in the backs of cars when I was seventeen."
"Where then? I've got to have you. I've never wanted a woman as much as I want you!"
Olivia was sure his passioned plea was faked, but it was still passion. She was flattered despite herself.
"If it's meant to be, an opportunity will present itself."
"I don't believe in fate, Olivia. I want you now."
He took her hand and placed it on the throbbing bulge in his trousers. That certainly wasn't fake. She removed it.
"Enough, I said. I'll tell you when."
She had kept him more or less at bay till now. And realised she wouldn't need a whole weekend to satisfy this urge. Once would be enough.
+
"As for Nash, he got his whole security system upgraded when he completed the extension and swimming pool. Locks, external and internal, and all the IT. He invited me as a thank you." said Nick.
"I thought you only dealt with big business these days?"
"Usually. But our reputation marches before us. I've also done private premises for a solicitor and a high court judge. You know, just in case."
"Clever."
"Nash offered me double our normal rate if I would personally do the work. Then doubled it again when I'd finished, to buy my silence. He's a dirty bugger!"
"In what way?" asked Chris, though he had a good idea.
Nick had witnessed the embarrassing display when Chris and Olivia arrived. So he broke his vow of silence, and told the whole story.
+
Brian Nash was rich, and could easily afford to pay over the odds for the extension and updated security. But his wife Patricia was even richer. Without her knowledge, he'd instructed Nick to set up discreet spy cameras. Several in the biggest guestroom, which could be electronically locked. It also happened to be the room farthest away from the master suite. There were more cameras sited in the jacuzzi, pool, changing rooms, and hot tub. The latter even had some below water level.
But Nick had uncovered the biggest surprise by accident. While laying a cable across the the bathroom's false ceiling, he had slipped and knocked a bottle of cologne off a shelf.
+
"English Leather if I recall correctly." Nick said. "It was in a fancy wooden box, except the box burst open on the floor and there was no cologne in there. It was full of roofies and E's, packed tight with cotton wool."
"Full of what?"
"Rohypnol, I'm guessing to knock his wife out, while he plays around in the guestroom. Ecstasy, presumably to get his victims in the mood."
"Jesus! Is that legal?"
"I'm not sure, but the way they were hidden suggests a lot of subterfuge. Anyway, nothing's hidden from me now. I've routed everything he records back to my computers. It might be a good idea to send it to yours as well."
Chris's heart sank. He knew why, but asked anyway.
"Why?"
"Because I think Olivia may be next. In fact I think they may have already done the deed. Sorry mate."r"
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http://iratyasningrum-manga.blogspot.com/
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http://irdirect.remotecentral.com/cgi-bin/mboard/rc-general/thread.cgi?554,2
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http://irishwhip1.blogspot.com/2007/08/irish-whip-exclusive-andrei-arlovski.html
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