“Lovely, thanks Mandy, shouldn’t be too hard to relax in here.” He lowered himself into one of the loungers and sighed. It really was fantastic. A fresh breeze came through the door and he tilted his head back to enjoy it and take in the sound of a wood pigeon cooing.
“White for you, isn’t it?” he opened his eyes and took the proffered glass.
“Thank you, yes. I’ll just have the one, I’m driving.”
Mandy settled into the other lounger and took a big swig of her red wine. They talked about everything and nothing. It was a lovely way to spend a couple of hours, and Kaelan forgot about his family troubles, Mandy was a calming influence.
“Well,” he said with a grunt, pulling himself upright, “I’d better get back. Carys will probably have hung Finn up by his underpants.”
Mandy laughed and they walked companionably back to the cottage, she took his arm and a wave of fondness washed over him. She really was a lovely person. They bundled into each other trying to get through the back door, and Kaelan pretended to muscle her aside.
“Hey, no fair!” she grabbed his sides and started to tickle him.
“Don’t you…” they wrestled around the kitchen, knocking over her knife block and spilling the dregs of the red wine. He pressed Mandy to the wall and held her arms above her head. They were both panting and choking with laughter.
“Big man!” she chided, “is that how you get off? Bullying your women?” Her eyes gleamed and she toyed with her bottom lip, drawing it under her teeth.
“I don’t need to bully my women, Mandy. They submit willingly,” they were both aware of the way this could go. As he lowered his face to hers, she turned her head slightly to meet his kiss. It was soft, her pillowy lips took his eagerly, she opened to accept his tongue and they melted together.
Kaelan’s hands dropped to her waist and her arms snaked around his neck. Their kiss deepened and Mandy started to moan lightly into him. His cock hardened instantly, and she wriggled against him. He groaned and moved around to grab her glorious ass. As their tongues wove and darted, he massaged her, letting his fingers trail between her ass cheeks. The jeans were so tight they rode into her crack.
Mandy started to thrust her hips at him, trying to rub her pussy against his rock-hard prick. She gasped and pulled away, looking up into his face with something akin to wonder, “God! You’re…so big!”
He grinned at her and took her right breast in his hand, “so are you.” His eyes burned into hers and her mouth fell open, her lips gleaming as he kneaded her soft, ripe tits.
She put her hand over his pants and tried to gauge just how big he was. Her eyes went even wider. They stared at each other, holding, groping. Then Mandy’s eyes seemed to clear. “I’m sorry Kaelan, I really want to but…I’m just not ready. I’ve had a few bad experiences, and I don’t want to repeat them. It may be that we could have something real here, but I know things are difficult for you right now. I’m… I’m sorry.”
He let her push away from him, it wasn’t easy, his desire was still clouding his vision. He wanted her, he wanted to feel her around him, he wanted to taste her pussy, to feel it contract as he entered her. He desperately wanted to see that shocked expression that women always made when they took him for the first time.
Kaelan was about to protest, but when he saw her face he knew that what she said was right. He forced a smile and took a series of deep breaths. He couldn’t speak, not for a second. He was too worked up.
“Look Kaelan, I do fancy you,” she tittered, “well, I think you can tell that, it’s just…”
“I know, you’re absolutely right Mandy. I know. If we did this now, it would be more than sex. I really like you and I don’t think I’m ready for something more either. Not at the moment.”
She let out a huge whoosh of relief, “thank you for understanding. God, I had to really put the brakes on myself there. I did want it. I still do, but maybe when the time is right? Friends?”
He took her hand in his and kissed it lightly. “Always friends. Maybe more, but let’s see how things go? If you want to keep seeing me, that is?” There was a note of insecurity that he didn’t like in the question, but everything that had happened with Sophie had left him bruised.
She sidled up to him and cuddled in, “you silly man. Of course I want to keep on seeing you. That’s what I’m saying! But if things develop between us, I’d prefer it to be genuinely what we both want. I can’t risk another rebound, and I’m not looking for casual sex.”
He nodded and kissed the top of her head, and in response she kissed his chest and pinched his ass.
“Oy! Don’t confuse me, I’m only a poor male!”
They kissed softly at the door and he made his way to the car. Strangely, he didn’t feel disappointed, and certainly not crushed. More than anything he valued Mandy’s friendship and he didn’t want to risk it. He mentally projected himself home, and dreaded the tantrum he knew Carys was going to throw. He only hoped that Finn was still alive.
Chapter 19: The Fall
No contact from anyone. Not even her own Mother. No attempt by Finn or Carys to reach her. Was she as terrible as that? Did no one care for her anymore? Sophie poured another slug of vodka into her coffee. She’d bought an extra bottle on her last grocery shop and smuggled it into her wardrobe. The fuzziness in her head didn’t take away the pain, but it did numb it.
The TV blared into her consciousness. It was a daytime talk show which had been described as a judge giving an interview to the media as tantamount to ‘human baiting’, and it would have passed her by except for the man yelling at a woman on screen.
The caption read: ‘My cheating wife’, and the husband or lover, was screaming at a young woman on the other side of the stage. He was tall and slender, with dyed blue hair and piercings all over his face. The woman was overweight and sullen, with greasy black pig-tails that fell on each side of her spotty face, and she clung onto the hand of a thick-set, thuggish looking man on the seat beside her.
The host stood between them, trying to wave the wronged husband back to his own seat. He was a silver-haired man in a suit, his gleaming teeth almost outshining the studio lights.
“I know you’re angry Bradley, but please sit down or I’ll have to call security,” he hammed it up for the audience and they bayed and bawled accordingly. Bradley did as he was bid, but he continued to point at his wife or ex-wife, while an anaemic woman sitting on his left tried to calm him. She didn’t succeed.
“She was fuckin ‘im for mumfs, the slag!”
The new boyfriend of the woman started to rise, but she restrained him, talking quietly to him and then turning to respond to the allegations.
“That’s not true Barry,” she said to the host as he smoothed down his immaculate hair, “I wasn wiv Conan ‘til we split.” She waggled her head and waved an admonishing finger.
It sent Bradley into apoplexy. “She’s a fuckin liar! He was round our place every fuckin Friday afternoon for mumfs!”
“Language please Bradley,” the plastic host called Barry implored, “this is a prime-time family show.”
The young man looked suitably chastened for a while, then he started up with the allegations again. “The worst fing is, she was shagging ‘im wiv our free-old daughter in the haaaasss.”
This was too much for the straying wife, who it turned out was called Tamica, and she jumped up as if to charge her ex or husband or whatever he now was. Bradley sneered and waved her on, then he said something that made Sophie wince: “an’ guess wot Barry? My mate caught her blowin’ ‘im wiv Jayd asleep on the fuckin’ couch!”
Tamica tried to shout down the crowd, but she couldn’t. Cries of ‘slag’ and bitch’ and ‘whore’ rang around the studio. It reached a crushing swell that forced Tamica back into her chair with a crestfallen expression. Her new partner screamed insults back at them, but to no avail, any sympathy she’d had in the room had vanished. She was their new hate figure and they let her know it in no uncert
ain terms.
Sophie watched with horror as the programme descended into chaos, and the collective judgement swept Tamica up and dashed her like a tsunami. The adverts cut into the unedifying scenes and Sophie let out an in-drawn breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The judgement wasn’t only on Tamica’s head, it was on hers also, and it had her reaching for the vodka bottle again.
*****
Sophie had tried to talk to Howie about how she was feeling when he got home from work, but he told her not to be such a victim, and that she was drowning in self-pity. It sickened him. What she needed was a night out. That had perked her up for a while, until he’d told her to get her slutty clothes on. That usually meant a visit to Relton woods, and an evening of dogging. And despite her protests, after they’d eaten the dinner she’d slaved over, that’s exactly where they’d ended up.
At first things hadn’t been too bad, there weren’t many people around and Howie was content to let her suck his cock. It almost felt normal, he stroked her hair and moaned her name and she had really started to enjoy it, even the arrival of a couple of spectators hadn’t made a negative impact on her. She’d hoped that he would get off quickly and they could get away, but it hadn’t worked out that way.
Howie had let her suck him almost to climax, then he’d grabbed her hair and yanked her away from his cock, almost wrenching her head off her neck. Then, as he’d held her against him, bending her back, he’d taken something out of the glove compartment, and snapped it around her throat. She’d struggled against him but he’d been far too strong, she’d pleaded, and once she’d worked out what was going on she’d cried bitterly.
He’d laughed in her face, attached a leash to the collar he’d put on her, and he’d forced her out of the car. By that stage several more cars had pulled up and there were pockets of people scattered around. Her slutty clothes had drawn immediate attention, even in the failing light. Howie had pulled her along, her high heels coupled with the tiny skirt had made it hard to walk. Her tits had jiggled inside the low-cut tank top, so much that they’d almost spilled free.
It hadn’t mattered, walking hadn’t been on his mind. He’d paraded her through a group of men, forcing her to slow enough for them to grope and manhandle her. Sophie’s eyes had clouded over and she’d whimpered to herself. Withdrawing mentally, willing the torment to be over.
He’d dragged her towards a huge tree stump somewhere near the centre of a clearing. As soon as she’d seen it she’d tried to beg him to stop, to take her home, not to let them touch her. But Howie had almost yanked her head off, he’d slapped her face and hauled her over to it.
With a vicious push, Howie had bent her over the stump, hauled up her skirt and pinned her in place, his large hand pressed down between her shoulder blades. She’d turned to look at him, tears streaming down her face, and he’d simply sneered and beckoned the men forward. One after another they’d taken turns to fuck her. They’d done this once before, minus the collar, and she had played the reluctant maiden, but the reluctance had been genuine this time.
The first guy had been rough, and because she’d been dry, it hurt terribly. She’d wailed into the night as he’d pushed his thick shaft into her and Howie had clamped his hand over her mouth.
She’d lost count after the third man had penetrated her. It had been less painful after that, and she’d almost lost consciousness. Finally, Howie had fucked her, plowing her mercilessly and finishing inside her. He’d slapped her ass and roared his conclusion.
He’d carried her back to the car, and they’d travelled home in silence. Sophie had pressed her face to the passenger window and let the tears flow. When they’d got back, he’d sent her to sleep in the guest room, where she’d cried herself to sleep. It had taken a while though, her pussy was so sore that it hurt every time she changed position.
*****
For the next few days Sophie avoided being sober. She drank until she couldn’t think, until all the pain of what was happening, of what she’d lost, turned from a searing open wound into a dull gnawing ache. Howie bullied and goaded her every chance he got, reducing her to tears when she was aware enough to register it.
“We’re running low on everything, get your lazy ass out and get some groceries. I’ve left money and a list in the kitchen. You’d better not fucking forget again, or I’ll drag you back to the woods for a second round.”
Sophie physically flinched at the threat, she knew that he meant every word. Her body had only just recovered and the thought of ever going back to that place made her shudder with horror. She stared at him with wide eyes.
“Got it?” The words were cold and hard and they drew a desperate nod from her. “Good, do not disappoint me.” He frowned and left, but Sophie heard him say: “fucking useless bitch,” as he slammed the front door behind him.
It took her until the early afternoon to rouse herself and shower, and then even think about going out and getting the shopping. It was a long list and Sophie dreaded it. She felt like a shadow, a ghost, insubstantial. In an old track suit with her hair tied back and pulled through a cap, she looked like a tired and drawn housewife. What she would give to be that again.
It took her several minutes to step out of the door and get into the small hatchback that Howie had kept when Anna had left him. She missed Harriet, her own small car. As she sat behind the wheel watching life go on around her, she wondered whether this was how he had treated his estranged wife. This was surely why she’d left. The irony of the sympathy she and her friends had heaped upon him hit her hard, and she let out an hysterical laugh.
A kindly looking man walking his dog hesitated as he saw her rest her head on the steering wheel, but before he could come over and ask what was wrong, she turned the ignition and pulled away. She went to one of the out of town retail parks to avoid seeing anyone she knew.
The carpark was surprisingly full, but she found a spot, picked out a trolley that didn’t squeak or lurch all over the place, and went into the store. For the first time in her life Sophie felt overwhelmed by living, just the ordinary every day activity of shopping felt too much.
The absence of Kael and of the kids was a gaping chasm inside, and she had to stop and take a deep breath to move through the foyer. People breezed past, sometimes brushing against her, and it was all she could do not to turn and run. With another in-drawn breath she ventured into the fruit section and inspected the list.
A young man in shorts and a vest reached across her to pick up some bananas and she caught the scent of his aftershave, she felt the tingle of his presence, strong and masculine. Normally, there would have been some tension, a buzz of sexual energy, she was used to that. Since she’d been Carys’ age men had given her attention, shown her in subtle and explicit ways how interested they were. Yet the young man merely smiled apologetically and wandered away without a backward glance.
It was the same wherever she went, hardy a look came her way, and the sensation that she was disappearing grew. She had to do something, make a connection, underline her existence, make it certain.
“Excuse me,” she mumbled to an older man wearing the store’s garish green uniform, “could you tell me where the dried apricots are please?”
He smiled at her and his open face crinkled, “yes, my dear, I can do better than that, I’ll show you” He wiped his hands on his apron and pushed his trolley out of the way, indicating for her to follow him.
“Thank you so much, I don’t shop here usually,” she said to avoid any awkwardness, and to further validate her existence.
“It’s no problem at all, helping pretty ladies is the only perk of this job,” he turned conspiratorially and added under his breath, “but don’t tell my supervisor.” Sophie chuckled as he waved an arm extravagantly at the dried fruit stand, “here we are, apricots!”
Sophie returned his smile, but she couldn’t retain it and he noticed.
“Everything alright my love? You look a little down?”
He was a
singularly unattractive man, virtually bald, with red puffy cheeks and a pot belly that stretched his apron almost obscenely, but he was kind and it radiated out of him. For no reason that she could think of she trusted him. “Have you ever…?” she swallowed, “…felt like you’ve lost everything? Like you don’t know what you’re doing?”
He placed a hand on her arm, it was warm and clammy, but she didn’t shrink away.
“We all feel like that sometimes, but it always gets better. You just have to hang on, have faith. You have a family love?” She nodded. “Well there then, you have to pull it around for them. Every time I’ve felt like giving in, and there have been many, many times, I just think about them and it’s enough. You know what I mean?”
“I do,” and she did, but her family were gone, there was no way back to them. She choked and a tear ran down her cheek. His hand touched her forearm.
“Take my advice, forget the shopping, get yourself home and be with your loved ones. It’ll all seem brighter then. I guarantee it.”
A Shared Wife Stolen Page 17
