Next to Mike stood this attractive, dark haired girl with sparkling eyes. She stuck her hand out and I meekly shook it. 'Pete - at last. I've been wanting to meet you. You've been such a friend to my husband; he's been quite lost these last few weeks without you. Please come round and see us soon. I do so want to get to know you.'
I couldn't speak. There were no words for such an eventuality. Pete broke the silence. 'It's true. I really am missing you and I'm sorry for everything I've done to offend you. Let's at least have a beer and a chat together soon.'
Those eyes smiled at me again. 'Yes, please come round soon.' She leant over and kissed me on the cheek.
I muttered something and fled.
I suppose it was six months before I saw or heard anything of Mike and Sally again. I tried to block the whole episode from my mind and concentrate on loving Jill. I would be the perfect, amorous partner. Perhaps we would even tie the knot and get married!
In hindsight, I can see that for me that just meant a lot more sex. Jill often came back from work exhausted and if a child had died she became depressed. I became more and more frustrated. We began to drift. She spent more and more time at hospital functions, training days and - well - she had less and less time for me. I began to think about Mike. If only he hadn't been so stupid! The chances of picking up another guy like him, with his lovely physique, good looks and spirit of adventure were remote. I didn't even try.
One evening Jill and I had a massive row. She went off to the nightshift leaving me with the parting shot that there were plenty of other fish in the sea and she could do a lot better than me. That was when I realised that if she hadn't got someone else already, she was probably looking. I went to the nearest pub to get drunk. That is something I have only done on two other occasions in my life; this fully justified being the third.
I had unenthusiastically dragged myself through four pints (I don't really like drinking to excess), when someone spoke to me. 'Pete, can I join you?' It was Sally. I was too depressed to answer and already being mellowed by the beer. She explained that she had been having a hen night with some friends in the restaurant and noticed me through the glass panels. She saw that I was alone and looking pretty miserable. When her party left the pub, she made an excuse to come back.
'You're not looking very happy, Pete. I know all about that; I've got an unhappy husband at home. He reckons he's blown a great friendship with a guy he really liked and had a lot in common with and he's missing you. He got quite attached to you, you know.'
'I'm missing him too. But you know. It was getting too hot to handle. Yes, I'm pretty miserable too.'
You know how it is when there's a sympathetic ear and you have already drunk more than you should. I told her that Jill and I weren't making it and I suspected she might have someone else.
'Listen Pete. It seems to me that you're in the kind of mess where you need some good friends. Why don't you come round to us - even if it's only to chat? Maybe you and Mike would cheer each other up.'
I was against the idea of going to their house. I still felt (through a bit of a haze) that what they were suggesting was not right. But in the end the beer won and I let her take me home. Mike was not in when we arrived and Sally suggested a nice hot bath may cheer me up. I was still in the tub when Mike arrived home. I heard them talking in the hallway. He came straight up to the bathroom and shouted 'Pete! Can I come in?' There was no lock on the door (though Sally had behaved herself!) and before I could reply he was standing there at the side of the bath. Ignoring the fact that I was soaking wet and naked, he flung his arms around me and said, My mate! Pete I'm so glad to see you. I really have missed you.' He held me tight and plastered kisses on my head and neck.
A little later, we sat together in their lounge drinking coffee (quite strong in my case.) For the ninety fourth time Mike apologised for being a stupid prat and could I ever forgive him? As far as my fuddled brain allowed me to apply logic, it seemed that he had already gone a long way towards getting what he wanted in the first place. After all, we were sitting together in the same room in their house.
Before long I also started saying sorry for the way I had behaved and hoped we could be friends again. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so hasty about judging some of their interests.
I don't know how it happened, but we started talking about photography. It got round to porn photography and how poor most of it is. Sally shared the desire to have a photographic record of their love together, but who could they trust with the job or the results?
I don't even remember what was said, but I found myself in their bedroom, digital camera (theirs) in my hand, watching them undress each other. Mike was a great lover and Sally certainly knew how to respond. I so much admired the ramrod erection that she could coax into being. I loved the sight of her red painted finger nails running over his shaft and rosy knob. But most, I exulted in the view as he took her. I got some marvellous penetration shots and then him full length on top of her, in various positions. When I saw his firm, round buns I felt giddy with excitement. He was lovely! But it was not until the next day, when my head was clearer and I ran through the pictures on the computer that I realised what a magnificent couple they were. I was glad to be back with this man. I wanted to be naked with him again and let him possess me.
When I took the prints round to their house a couple of days later, I was an innocent abroad. They were thrilled with my work, but they were very clearly intent on taking our relationship further. They suggested a foursome, with Jill. I knew exactly what the response there would be! Sally tried to seduce me, even stroking my erection (which she first engendered) through the material of my trousers. When I resisted (though I didn't want to), she offered to talk to Jill for me. Then she suggested we should try a threesome before including Jill. When I hesitated, Sally said she would call on her to 'gee things along a bit.' It felt like blackmail. To an extent it certainly was. When they begged me to have some fun with them there and then, I saw no way of escape. They had me, as they say, by the short and curlies.
Once again we were together in their bedroom. I was feeling like a trapped animal. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to be there. But I could see no way out. Mike tried to reassure me and said that this was a part of the natural way of enjoying life to the full. I shouldn't feel guilty. Pleasure was everything. Nothing was off limits. I should feel embarrassed about nothing.
Sally approached me, put her arm around my shoulder and caressed my head with her other hand. She pulled me against her. Her face was against mine. I was aware of her perfume. I could feel her breasts against my chest. She started stroking my shoulders and I realised that I was enjoying the experience. Mentally I pulled myself together. This was so wrong. It had to stop! I felt Mike's hands playing around my hips and gently touching my buttocks. I tried to muster some resistance, but my troops were already deserting. There was a traitor in the camp and he commanded a very strong following. His influence was growing as he reared his head between my legs. I felt a pang of panic. Sally would soon feel him if I couldn't control myself. But it was already too late. She wrapped her arms around my waist, one hand on my buttocks and then pulled us together. In the most sensuous way possible she gyrated her hips against my erection and giggled.
As she relaxed her grip I was aware of Mike's hands coming in from behind. In no time he had my belt unbuckled, my zip down and my jeans around my ankles. My boxer shorts followed. He stood up and pulled me back against him. With a start I realised that he was naked. I felt his erection slip between my legs. Still grasping me from behind, he unbuttoned and removed my shirt. Sally stripped in front of me.