Body Language

BODY LANGUAGE

Cheating, cuckold, multi-revenge.

Despite my warnings, I still get complaints that my stories are not finished. But they end exactly where I intend them to. It’s not laziness, it’s a Brit thing. This one has several ‘endings’, so please don’t ask what happens next. Feel free to write a sequel, if you think there should be more.

The movie: ‘Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels’.

Even better, the original ‘Italian Job’ with Michael Caine.

Check out their endings. Not the whole movies; just the last couple of minutes.

With cheating wives, I’m always interested in the ways the husband finds out. Some are more interesting than others. I also enjoy parties, where the husband watches his wife dancing. There’s a party in this one, but no dancing.

*

Friday lunchtime.

The park.

“What are your chances for the head’s job?” asked Tania.

“Hopeful, but ours is a popular school.” replied Hayley, “There’ll be plenty of others after it. And often a head’s post gets filled externally. New broom and all that. The interviews are in the first week of the summer holidays. God job we haven’t booked anything.”

“Well good luck. Tell me about this annual party.”

“Of course, this is your first one isn’t it? The board of governors treats us at the end of the school year; the second Friday in June.”

“So what should I wear?”

“Fairly formal, little black dress, heels. Just flirt a bit, and circulate.”

Hayley Simmons and Tania Marks were teachers at the same secondary school. Hayley was five foot seven and slim with long blonde hair; named after the actress Hayley Mills. Tania was a little shorter and bigger in the bust; dark brown hair in a feathered bob.

Barry and Ken, respectively, were their husbands. Barry was a salesman at the local BMW dealership. Ken was a bank manager. On Fridays, the girls preferred to have sandwiches in the park, if neither were on playground duty.

“Come and sit with us Sue.” said Hayley.

Sue joined them and opened a Tupperware box.

“That looks nice, better than sandwiches.”

“Perks of the job.” she replied. “So, what are you girls talking about? Sex again?”

Tania laughed.

“Hayley’s wondering how many of the board she’ll have to screw to guarantee the head’s job!”

“I said no such thing!”

Sue pretended to take it seriously and answered.

“Well, there are six governors. Three parents, difficult to predict. Clive Ingols is the only one I know, he runs McBails Pharmacy, has a son in year two.”

“He’s a friend of Barry’s from way back, though they don’t get on.” agreed Hayley.

“And Adam Cartwright fancies you of course.”

Hayley and Tania started humming the theme tune to the old tv show, Bonanza. Their headmaster was saddled with the name of the Ponderosa’s eldest son.

“Yeah, we all know the head does.” agreed Hayley. “Dirty old bugger fancies anything with a pulse.”

“Nevertheless,” continued Sue, “his opinion might carry some weight, and he’s gone against county guidelines before. As for the vicar; Kev Yeo’s a dirty old man as well. That just leaves the local councillor. I don’t know much about him.”

“Actually, I know him. We were at university together.” confessed Hayley.

“Are you coming to the hotel party, Sue?” asked Tania.

“I certainly am.” she replied. “It’s not just for the board and you teachers. The Catering Manageress is invited too.”

She paused, and looked at them grinning.

“OK. Dinner lady!”

*

Next morning.

Barry’s house.

Hayley was still in bed, but Barry was up early, having to work three Saturdays out of four. He left a cup for her in the coffee machine, fished out the filter paper and dropped it in the bin.

Something small and shiny caught his eye. He’d told Hayley before about dumping broken glass in the bin. He fished it out carefully, but it wasn’t glass. It was a tiny sliver of foil. Barry was about throw it back in there, when he noticed something printed on one side. An equals sign. Frowning, he slipped it into his pocket.

*

The BMW dealership.

Sam, another salesman, was in the toilet and Phil, the trainee, was polishing an SUV, when the girl walked in. A rock chick; ripped jeans, short pink hair, black leather jacket over a white T-shirt. Barry shook hands with her and introduced himself.

A second person entered; a short middle-aged lady with a lavender coloured cardigan; its pockets bulging. She seemed mesmerised as young Phil approached.

“What do you think that lady’s going to buy?” the girl asked Barry.

“She’s a brochure collector.” answered Barry. “Or just looking for the toilets. Her pockets are full of tissues for her summer cold. Trust me, I can read people!”

“Can you now? Tell me what I’m interested in, then.”

Barry looked at her. Very pretty.

“Jacket, jeans, Doc Marten’s; I’d say you’re more of a biker at heart. So if you’re serious about moving into the car market, you’d prefer a Two Series convertible.”

“Wow, spot on!” she exclaimed. “Have you got any second hand models?”

She followed Barry to the used section.

“How about this one? Year, twenty seventeen, sports model, automatic. It’s a two litre and goes like shit off a shovel: seventeen thousand nine hundred.”

She didn’t flinch at the price. Nor at the rather unbusinesslike use of the word ‘shit’. Barry was proud of his phrase ‘if you’re serious’ — it was a subtle challenge.

“I love this shade of blue. Any chance of a test drive?”

Barry drove it out onto the forecourt and checked her driving licence.

“Are you peeking at my tits?” she enquired, grinning.

“God no! Sorry! I was trying to see what’s printed on your shirt. I can only make out ‘S G, ELE, and UTTO’. What language is it?”

She pulled open her jacket and Barry said a mental prayer of thanks to the underwear gods. She was braless.

‘IT’S GOT AN ELEVEN BUTTON’ said the shirt.

“It’s a quote from Spinal Tap.” said the girl.

“Spinal Tap? A bit before your time isn’t it?”

“Yeah, classic though.” she said, and started the car.

Barry fished the silver foil out of his pocket. Now he recognised what it was. Not an equals sign after all.

Back from the test drive, there was a quick debrief in the showroom.

“Bastards!” said Sam. “I go to the toilet and two walk in! How did you guys get on?”

“My heavy metal girl, Chrissy, is twenty one, and just got an inheritance. She’s seeing her solicitor about releasing eighteen grand next week, so we’re nearly there. How did you do with your librarian lady, Phil? I imagine she’d need a ladder to get into the X7!”

Phil’s face broke into a grin.

“Seems I polished it just in time, she’s buying it! Asked if BMW do a cushion, but was happy enough when I showed her the seat height adjustment.”

“Are you sure she wasn’t having you on?”

His face fell.

“Yeah, she could have been. I don’t have your experience in reading buying signals. She did give me this though!”

He plonked a wad of fifty pound notes on the table.

“Twenty thousand pounds deposit. Says she’ll bring the rest round on Monday … What? Guys? What did I say?”

“Nothing!” laughed Barry. “Clearly, reading customers’ body language is not all it’s cracked up to be. Congratulations Phil, best sale this week!”

“Bastards!” repeated Sam.

Barry made a quick phone call.

“Is it convenient to pop round and see you mate? Now?”

“Of course, come any time.”

“Hold the fort Sam, would you? I’m taking an early lunch. Won’t be long, it’ll give you a chance to catch up!”

“Bastards!”

*

McBails Pharmacy.

Clive’s pharmacy was called McBails. And generally accepted wisdom was that he was lucky to be next door to Colombia Coffee – the city’s best coffee shop. Many customers took in their prescriptions, and went next door to wait for him to fill them.

He motioned Barry through to the rear office. It smelled just like Colombia, next door.

“Want one? I live on the stuff.”

“I’d love one. Thanks.”

They sat, and Barry passed him the silver foil.

“Can you tell me what this is?”

Clive glanced at it.

“Part of the packaging from a birth control pill.”

“Thought so. And this would be from day eleven of a woman’s cycle, right?”

“Yes.”

“I believe I once told you, I cannot father children.”

“I believe you did.”

“Did you prescribe Hayley the pill?”

Clive took a swig of his coffee.

“Barry. Do you recall that chemistry lesson we had at school, just before our O’ levels?”

“What, the one where you chucked a rusty nail into a jar of hot sulphuric acid, and it exploded? How could I forget? I got acid splashes on my school blazer.”

“Well Holroyd, our teacher, went apeshit about that little incident, and blamed you. You took it like a trooper, failed Chem, and I passed. But it could have been the other way round. You joined the RAF and I majored in chemistry at Bristol uni. When I graduated, I got a job, married, and my life is what you see today. And I owe much of it to you, for taking the rap.”

“Wow! You’ve carried that baggage around all these years? Well it’s OK. I was never going to pass Chemistry, and I’m doing all right. Are you going to answer my question?”

Behind them was a desk with a CCTV screen. A white-coated assistant was sitting there. Clive made a few keystrokes and whispered something to her. Then told Barry to sit next to her. Her hand hovered over the keyboard. Clive made a little speech.

“This is Sally; she’s here on work experience. My vows of patient confidentiality are not as binding as a doctor’s Hippocratic Oath. But I cannot divulge any information about my customers.”

He walked out. Sally pressed Play. It was a video clip taken from behind the pharmacy counter. The camera zoomed in on Hayley’s purchase of birth control pills.

“Who zoomed in for the payment?”

“Automatic.” said Sally. “Does it on every transaction. Please don’t ask me any more questions, because I shouldn’t answer them.”

Barry went quiet and Sally spoke to the screen.

“This is the customer’s second purchase of three months’ supply of birth control pills. Earlier this year, she came in was for a morning after pill.”

Sally turned from the screen and stared at him.

“You shouldn’t be back here. Please leave now.”

Barry returned to the pharmacy, where Clive reappeared.

“Sorry mate.” he commiserated.

“Thanks. I imagine what I just saw is connected to that customer’s promotion prospects. Yet the job wasn’t even on offer three months ago!”

“I know. There’s something I want to show you. Come up to my ‘flat above the shop’.”

“Wow! It’s enormous. This is bigger than your shop!”

“Well spotted. After I graduated, I inherited thousands from some obscure uncle. People think McBails is a company, and I’m a manager.”

“But?”

“The truth is it’s a private joke. I own McBails, which is an anagram of ‘lab’, and MSci – my masters’ degree. I also own Colombia Coffee next door. There are cameras in there too, where I am not bound by any code of ethics. Nominally for security, but it amuses me to listen to customers chatting.”

Clive ushered Barry to the sofa and turned on his tv. Up came an image of the coffee shop. He zoomed in on an attractive woman.

“Recognise her?”

“That’s Alison Taylor, a friend of Hayley’s. She’s the head teacher, at another school.”

“Correct.” said Clive. “And this is where she usually meets Hayley on a Saturday. She’ll be in soon.”

*

Colombia Coffee.

“So did Barry break your fidelity deal?”

“No I did. He has no idea of course, I’ve been careful.”

“Ooh, do tell!”

“OK. What do you know about Barry and I?”

The cameras and video picked it all up clearly and relayed it to Barry who, after his discovery in the kitchen, was less than surprised. He was shocked though.

“Um, you were at teacher training in Nottingham, and met Barry who was an apprentice mechanic. You had a miscarriage, married him, and he joined the Air Force.”

“The truth. But not all of it. The baby wasn’t Barry’s.”

“Really? Who’s was it?”

“The love of my life, Clark. We’d got together in high school and he was on the same teacher training course as me. But suddenly his family were emigrating to Australia, and he was going with them. We split, and I hooked up with Barry on the rebound. Then, their emigration got delayed. I’d already slept with Barry by then. Next thing I know, Clark hitch-hikes up to Nottingham to say goodbye, you know, properly.”

“Could the baby have been Barry’s?”

“No. We were using condoms at the time. Clark and I didn’t. I had a termination and neither of them knew. It was much later, after I married Barry, that we discovered he’s infertile.”

“On the rebound is usually doomed, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps. But, Barry ditched his apprenticeship and joined the RAF. He said he could learn as much about motors there, and get paid more. So suddenly, I’m losing both of them, and Barry wants to marry me. It seemed so romantic, world travel!”

“But it didn’t turn out like that?”

“To be fair, it did. Actually I wish he stayed in.”

“So what’s the problem? Now, I mean.”

“Clark and I kept in touch, just unsigned Christmas cards at first. I made sure he always knew where I was living. He finished his training, got married, and started teaching at a high school in Adelaide. He and his wife never had children. It’s uncanny how his life matched mine in many ways. Then his wife died in a car crash, and he got life assurance and the mortgage cleared. And earlier this year his gran died, and he came back to England for the funeral. He inherited everything.”

“And you made some excuse to go and see him. Let me guess, you made passionate love, and rekindled the flame.”

“Close. We fucked like rabbits; eight times, in twenty four hours! I had to go next door, for a morning after pill.”

“That was risky. Doesn’t Clive know Barry?”

“Yes, but they don’t like each other, some incident from their schooldays. And pharmacists have a code of ethics, so he’s not allowed to tell.”

“Right. Will you be seeing this Clark again?”

“What do you think? He’s rich, hung like a horse, and we never got over each other romantically. He wants me to go out to Australia and join him.”

“When?”

“Early next year. Their school term starts late January, when they’ll be appointing a new head. He’s happy where he is; head of year and responsibility for sports. His school specifically wants someone from England, ideally already be in a head teacher post. They even asked Clark if he’s in touch with any teachers here. I’m practically a shoo-in; just need an interview!”

“You’re giving Barry the elbow then.”

“I have to. I know it sounds bitchy, but Clark was always the one for me.”

“And what are your plans for this headship?”

“Well Cartwright, our head, will recommend me. I’ve been giving him a lunchtime blowjob this last few weeks. I’ve tentatively brought it up with Spencer Nabb, and he has influence with the vicar. Three votes will swing it. I just need to sort out when and where.”

“So you plan on fucking Nabb?”

“I do. He’s chomping at the bit.”

“Been there, Hayley. He ‘helped me out’ shall we say, with my last promotion. I fucked him, and our then headmaster, to get mine. He’s keen on anal by the way!”

“Not a problem. So am I. In fact, he hinted he fancied twos up with the vicar!”

“Go for it. But what’s the problem? Spencer’s well off. He can afford a hotel.”

“But he and Yeo are easily recognisable round here. And if we go farther afield, it’ll look a bit strange, two men and one woman. Hotels keep videos these days: car parks, check-in. Spencer needs to be careful.”

“Right.”

“And you know what he’s like. If he doesn’t get his wicked way with me, he may choose some other candidate, out of spite.”

*

Saturday evening.

Barry’s home.

Hayley was out, visiting her mother, and Barry was seething. Now he grasped the enormity of it all, he was in shock. It was one thing to find out that Hayley had been giving the head blowjobs, and planning more excursions with half the board of directors. But another thing entirely to discover his entire married life had been a lie.

An abortion! OK, it hadn’t been his. Nevertheless, there are some things that should be divulged before taking your marriage vows. And this Clark was the love of her life. He had always been second best. That was humiliating. She was going to burn, and slowly.

Barry was furious, and vowed she would lose everything, even the love of her life. He just had to work out how. In the bedroom, he found himself starting at the curtains. Floor to ceiling, midnight blue, very thick. Hayley couldn’t sleep if there was any light in the room. So they were like blackout curtains, with eighteen inches of overlap.

Another of her odd quirks, was that she only ever opened the left one when she got dressed in the mornings. Said she was concerned she might be seen from nearby houses if they were both open. Barry had suggested net curtains but she pointed out, quite correctly, that she liked a bright bedroom in the daytime. And nets would be see-through when the light was on.

He went and stood behind them. If Hayley had sex in here, she would close the other one, but probably wouldn’t see him. He went downstairs and looked at the lounge window, also floor to ceiling curtains. He could tell her he’d be away overnight. She wouldn’t use a spare bedroom; theirs was so convenient with its blackout. But what if she did it in here?

Barry was sure she would not use the kitchen diner, or the study; she liked her creature comforts. If she was going to fuck two men, would the sofa suffice? He couldn’t force her to go upstairs, but … he might be able to prevent her from staying downstairs. He had an idea.

*

Second Friday in June.

The Grosvenor Hotel.

“I know you don’t much care for these events,” said Hayley. “so have a few glasses of wine. I’ll circulate, and oil the wheels.”

She was wearing a pale grey, knee-length dress of clinging jersey wool. It came with a wide plastic belt, pulled tight to accentuating her curves.

Barry tucked himself into a corner with a glass of red and a plate of quiche slices. He felt strangely detached from things. This marriage was all but over, and he was surprised to find he didn’t really care. But he did want indisputable evidence. He would tell her his travel news on Monday.

Hayley walked from group to group, flirting. Then, seeing one man on his own, she made a beeline for him. He was wearing an expensive grey suit of soft fabric, like mohair, and a pale blue shirt. And grey suede boots. Who on earth wears suede boots with a suit? This must be the arse-fancying Spencer. Barry was on high alert. If there were any clues tonight, he’d spot them.

Hayley’s approach was subtly different. Shoulders back, rolling hips. Barry was watching for the half dozen attraction signals. The first wasn’t long coming — she held eye contact with him and ran her fingers through her hair. If a woman smiles and touches herself then, in crude terms, she’d like you to touch her there too. She stood closer.

Now Mr Mohair was asking her a question. She raised her eyebrows, widened her eyes, touched her lips. Another question; this one was obvious: ‘Would you like another drink?’ She took his glass and sipped from it. Very intimate. ‘Oooh that’s delicious, I’ll have what you’re having!’

As he turned for the bar, she rummaged in her handbag. Compact out, check make-up, lipstick freshened, compact back. Just enough time to tug her dress, pulling it tight across her breasts. He returned and handed her a fresh glass of wine. Barry could not read her lips, but her body language was obvious. She gently pushed his shoulder.

‘You’ll be getting me drunk you naughty man!’

Her right hand held the glass and her left went to her throat. ‘Would you like to put your hand around my throat? Hold me down while you ravish me?’ Then it dropped and brushed her left breast.

The room got a little more crowded, and they moved closer to a wall, He put his hand on it, next to her face. Trapping gesture. This guy was not consciously reading her signals. But that didn’t stop him playing the unspoken game. Hayley smiled at him.

‘What are you going to do, now you’ve trapped me?’

He removed his hand and placed it on her hip, pointing across the room with the other. Their heads tipped towards each other, his cheek touching her hair. Barry ignored the pointed finger and focussed on the other hand. It slid around Hayley’s hip to the small of her back. Then lower. More buttock than hip.

Suddenly Hayley went into overdrive. Increased blink rate, puckered lips, stroking the stem of her glass as if she was masturbating it. Finally, one hand went to her breast again, squeezing it. Spencer was getting some tonight!

“I could do with more of a handful, personally.”

“What? Oh, hi Ken. Sorry, I was miles away.”

“Wine and cocktails are all right, but I prefer a pint. When Tania said it’s an open bar, I was expecting beer.”

“I know what you mean. Wine makes me thirsty.”

“I see Hayley’s collared the new councillor.”

Barry made a show of looking around the room for her.

“Oh, is that who he is?”

“Tania says they were at uni together.”

The flirting couple put down their glasses and looked at their watches. Time for a quickie? Hayley twisted her wedding ring and Barry knew she was on the point of looking in his direction. He quickly turned back to Ken.

“Can’t say I’ve ever seen him before.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he was aware of the man, leaving the room. He faded Ken out. Two minutes later, Hayley drained her glass and headed for the same door.

“Are you listening?” said Ken.

“Sorry again mate. Taken short, gotta pee.”

He left the room. Along the corridor, there was a thump of the Gents’ door closing. Barry waited a minute, then entered. Urinals empty, but the far stall was occupied. He turned on a tap, pulled a couple of paper towels from the dispenser and opened the door, staying where he was and letting it bump shut. A whispered “Quick then!”

He tiptoed to the end and lay on the floor to look under the door. A foot from his eyes were grey suede boots, poking out from under dropped grey trousers, and blue underpants. They matched his shirt! Almost touching Barry’s face were the undersides of Hayley’s shoes. She was between the boots and kneeling on the trousers.

He was inches away from his wife’s buttocks, flexing as she dipped her head into the councillor’s lap. It was obviously a blowjob, but she had pulled her dress up to her waist. Her thong was so small, it was barely visible between her legs. He couldn’t see up as far as the blowjob itself; that meant they couldn’t see him.

“I’m ready!” the man whispered. Hayley froze. Barry could make out gulping noises. She struggled to her feet.

“Didn’t want to spill any on my dress!”

She sounded very pleased with herself.

“Nice job Hayley. But I really want to fuck you properly. Kev the Rev does too!”

“I know. Soon you can both have me, I promise.”

*

Monday.

Barry’s home.

“Great news, babe.” said Barry.

“What? You sold another SUV?”

“Better. We’re now the best performing UK dealership, and have been invited to the motor show. In Munich!”

“Wow! When do you go?”

“We leave Wednesday lunchtime, and meet our German counterparts for dinner. Stay overnight, and do the show all day Thursday. Return Friday, back to work Saturday.”

“Congratulations sweetie!”

“Thanks. Pity you still have another week’s teaching, or you could have come with me.”

*

Wednesday.

Barry’s home.

Barry had taken some of his holiday entitlement for the next two days. Though if today went according to plan, he wasn’t sure what he would do tomorrow. Still, better safe than sorry.

He’d parked his car at the local pub, and strolled back home, grabbing a burger on the way. Now it was afternoon and he settled in to wait for Hayley to finish at school. Last night there had been a mishap as they went to bed. Barry had closed the lounge curtains and the rail had inexplicably collapsed, leaving the room open for anyone to see in.

At three thirty, he took up his position behind the bedroom curtain. He was tempted to close the other one, but she might notice. The digital movie camera was on the floor next to him. All ready. His mobile phone rang.

“Hi Mr Simmons, remember me? Chrissy? Blue, Two Series convertible?”

“How could I forget?”

“I’d like to buy you lunch soon. How about Franco’s?”

“That’s very kind of you. I could meet you tomorrow.”

“Great, I’m paying!”

He hung up, and turned his phone off. Leaving it on could have been a disaster. Now he was ready.

Hayley ran up the stairs two at a time, and rushed into the bedroom. She grabbed the open curtain and closed it, then rummaged through her underwear drawers and put on a pair of black hold-up stockings. Finally she removed her bra and replaced the blouse.

She looked in the mirror. Not bad. No need to shower or change clothes; Spencer had requested she be ‘straight from school’ but braless. The stockings were her idea. The shirt was scratching her nipples and they were already hard.

‘Just got time for some anal lubricant.’ she thought.

Before long, there were three of them in the room.

Spencer grabbed her first.

“I trust you’re going to be my three-hole slut, Hayley.”

“Of course. I’m going to fulfill all your fantasies. Both of you.”

She smiled at the vicar.

“Oh, good.” said Kev. “In that case, I have a request.”

“My dear Reverend Yeo.” announced Spencer, turning Hayley towards him. “You do not make requests of Mrs Simmons. You issue her orders; isn’t that so?.”

He tweaked one of her nipples and made her gasp.

“Yes, Kevin. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

Hayley stepped up to him and raised her skirt. Thrusting her crotch in front of his face.

“Under here, is my cunt, and it’s ready for a good seeing to. As you can see, my panties are wet. I’ve been thinking of you all day.”

She turned her back, and bent over.

“And here is my arsehole. It’s very tight. I’ve already oiled it up and it really wants a hard shafting.”

She turned back.

“And it goes without saying, my mouth is available any time. You must feel free to put anything you like in it, no matter where it’s been. I rarely gag.”

“Then I want to begin by watching.” he replied. “I’ve never actually seen anyone making love. You two start, and I’ll join in later.”

“Pull up a chair and get as close as you like.” said Spencer. “But what you’ll see will not be making love. I’m just going to fuck her like the slut she is.”

“Yes please!” said Hayley.

“We’d better both get naked.” Spencer told Kev.

He turned to Hayley. “You get that shirt off, lie on the bed and hold your legs open. Kevin wants to see it up close.”

Hayley complied, and Kev pulled his chair up close, and started fondling his cock.

Spencer lay next to her, gripped her left nipple, and started to pull. It looked like he was trying to remove it.

“Ow!” she yelped.

“Does that hurt?”

“Yes!”

“Shall I stop and go home?”

Hayley didn’t answer and Spencer repeated the process with her right nipple. She squealed even louder.

“Does her screaming bother you. Kev?”

“Not at all. I think she’s enjoying it. It looks like her cunt is getting even wetter!”

“Have a little feel of it and see what happens.”

Kev reached up her leg, and gave her panties a squeeze.

“She’s dripping. You could wring these knickers out!”

Spencer moved his mouth over Hayley’s breasts.

“Do you want me to bite them? It’s going to hurt.”

“Yes.”

He sunk his teeth into one nipple as if trying to bite it off. Hayley screamed, but held his head in place.

Her sobs subsided when he stopped.

“Well?” he said.

She proffered the other nipple. When he bit that, she gritted her teeth and went ‘ng, ng’ but this time didn’t cry.

“She loves it.” said Kev. “It’s oozing out of her. I want those knickers.”

He shoved the gusset into Hayley’s cunt to get them even more soaked, then yanked them off her. He produced a small case from his folded trousers, removed a pair of sunglasses and stuffed her panties in, snapping it shut.

He stroked his cock and continued watching. Spencer fucked Hayley hard; first up her cunt, then in her mouth.

“Ready to get your arsehole filled?”

“Can’t wait!”

“Then assume the position, slut!”

Hayley knelt on the end of the bed, reached back, and pulled her buttocks apart.

“Wider, I want to see it smile!”

He assisted her with his thumbs and plunged his dick into her tightest place.

“Wow!” said Kevin.

“Want a turn, before I fill her up?” asked Spencer.

“No thanks. I’ve never fancied anal.”

“How about a double-up then?”

“Oooh, yes please!” agreed Hayley.

Without removing his dick from her arse, Spencer rolled over onto the bed, pulling Hayley with him. His feet were on the floor, and she lifted hers onto his knees. Kev stood in front of them. He slid into her cunt and she flopped back against Spencer with a moan.

And so passed the next two hours. They fucked in nearly every position possible, and Hayley made sure all three of her holes got fucked. The vicar came twice, and the councillor came three times. Hayley lost count.

‘So, do I get the job?’

They laughed. When finally sated, they all squeezed into the shower at the same time; too busy soaping and groping each other to hear the front door closing.

*

Thursday.

Franco’s.

“Do all your customers buy you a thank you lunch, Mr Simmons?”

“Please call me Barry. No Chrissy, only the ones who are flirting with me!”

“Is that what I’m doing? Oh, I forgot. You’re the body language expert, so you’d know!”

He recalled the little old lady who had not come in for the toilets at all.

“You tell me.”

“I am flirting. I can see you’re quite a bit older than me, but I’m moving up. From bikes to cars, from boys to men.”

“You know I’m married don’t you?”

“Yes. But I’m not after a wedding ring, just some fun.”

Barry looked at her. She was braless again; pretty in a punk kind of way, and vibrant, full of life. She was more than ten years younger than him, and he wondered if he’d be able to keep up with her. Then he realised something. Having sex with her, whatever his reason, would make him little better than Hayley.

“Chrissy. There’s a lot of bad shit going down in my marriage at the moment. And I fear it’s going to take a few months to sort out.”

“Hey, no probs. This is still only a thank you lunch. You’ve got my number. Just give me a call when you’re straightened out ok?”

“I will.”

“If I’m still free and single, you can buy me a lunch, and we’ll take it from there. But if you have to dig me out from under some Ferrari salesman … tough!”

“Deal.”

*

July to October.

Unsurprisingly, Hayley sailed through her interview and got the headship. Feigning a urinary infection, Barry avoided having sex with her, and she soon lost interest. They didn’t travel on holiday that summer, and Hayley spent more and more time with her mum.

Barry claimed it was their busiest time of year for sales. But actually it was quiet. The annual registration plate changed in September, and they would actually be busiest from then to December. Luckily she paid no attention to that. He spent more time with Clive, who was discreetly approaching friends as potential members of the school board of governors.

Early September, there was an article in the local papers. ‘St Martin’s secondary school welcomes new head’ sort of thing. Also a photo of Hayley ‘arriving on her first day’. The official announcement was in the Times Educational Supplement.

On the last Friday of September, there was a smaller party at The Grosvenor Hotel, to celebrate Hayley’s promotion. The ex-head, Adam Cartwright attended, making it his last appearance. Ken and Tania were there of course, and this time Ken got Barry’s whole attention. Not least because he managed to smuggle in a cool bag, containing a dozen cans of German lager.

Barry did keep a watchful eye on Hayley, more out of curiosity than anything. But this time her body language gave nothing away. Her behaviour was immaculate.

He was still observing her during the half-term break, in October. Her laptop revealed evidence of two long sessions on Skype.

*

Last Friday in October.

Barry’s home.

“We need to talk.” Hayley announced.

He was relieved. At last.

“Go ahead.”

“I want a divorce.”

“Sure.”

“You don’t seem very surprised!”

“You’ve always been full of surprises Hayley. They no longer catch me unawares. Just talk to me.”

And she did. Barry was surprised though; mostly at her candour. She told him nearly everything: Clark, the love of her life, all that. Only missing out the parts about her termination and her threesome on the marital bed.

“I’ve had my interviews with the Adelaide high school, and they’ve offered me the job. There will be a month’s probation, while I acclimatise.”

“Congratulations. It’s nice to see someone getting what they deserve.”

She frowned slightly at that comment, but let it go.

“I handed in my notice at St Martin’s today. They’re sad to see me on the move, so soon after the promotion, but I have to go. You can see that, can’t you?”

“Of course I can babe. You have to follow your arse – I mean follow your heart! What happens next?”

“This is not your fault sweetie, so I won’t ask for anything. Keep the house and furniture, everything. I’ll just take my personal stuff, and start again.”

“With Chuck.”

“With Clark.”

“So, we just file for a divorce now, based on irreconcilable differences, and I complete it here, after the appropriate separation? No solicitors?”

“Agreed. I’ll move in with him of course. We’ll keep that discreet to start off with, but I don’t think the school will be bothered. And, the moment I start, they’ve agreed to advance me my first month’s pay. They’ll claw it back over the following four months. So I won’t even need any of our savings. They’re your savings now.”

“Perfect.”

“All I have to do, is sign in person when I start the job, then it’s all done and dusted.”

“Good,”

“I must say, you’re taking this very calmly Barry. It’s like you don’t care. Almost like you were expecting it.”

“You know me babe, I’m an expert at body language. It’s more than just spotting buying signals, and pressing the customers’ buttons. I’ve observed that you’re not happy.”

*

First Monday in November.

St Martin’s school.

“Thank you all for attending at such short notice.” said Clive. “But this is an emergency meeting.”

“Is Mrs Simmons coming?”

“She is not.”

Clive confirmed to the board that Hayley was leaving and emigrating to Australia. Nobody thought to ask whether or not her husband was accompanying her.

“But this meeting is far more than just discussing the advertising for her replacement. This is more about a complete reorganisation of the board members.”

“They all looked suitably confused.

“I know you’re all wondering why we need to do this, so you should all watch the video first.”

He turned to a large screen he’d set up and played the movie. It started with Alison Taylor’s conversation in Colombia Coffee; her face was blurred out. But Hayley’s wasn’t, and the viewers got increasingly uncomfortable as story progressed.

They reached the point where she said: ‘Cartwright, our head, will recommend me. I’ve been giving him a lunchtime blowjob this last few weeks. I’ve tentatively brought it up with Spencer Nabb, and he has influence with the vicar. Three votes will swing it. I just need to sort out when and where.’

“Ridiculous! She’s merely fantasising!” said Nabb, jumping to his feet.

“Sit down!” ordered Clive.

His tone of voice shocked everybody, and Spencer sat. The movie’s conversation wound down and switched to Barry and Hayley’s bedroom. The parent members stared open-mouthed, and Clive stood behind the two male performers, to prevent them from leaving.

‘Want a turn, before I fill her up?’

‘No thanks. I’ve never fancied anal.’

‘How about a double-up then?’

‘Oooh, yes please!’

The outrage really exploded when they all saw and heard: ‘So, do I get the job?’

At last it was over and there was a stunned silence.

“I now put forward the following proposals.” continued Clive, as if it was just a regular meeting. “First, Reverend Yeo and Councillor Nabb will resign with immediate effect. If they are still in this area two months from now, edited stills from this movie will be shown to their superiors and their families.”

This was met with noises of approval.

“Photos will also be published, if either of them disclose any details of this meeting, to Mrs Simmons. Her husband took this film secretly, and wants her to go to Australia none the wiser. I need everyone’s agreement on this minor subterfuge.”

More approval.

“Second, Mrs Simmons will see out the rest of the school year in the head post, but will have no further involvement with the board. Time to vote, I think.”

*

Hayley crated up her belongings, including her summer clothes, and shipped them off to Adelaide. She only kept a small selection of winter clothes, and a few toiletries. She did wonder why Spencer Nabb and the vicar left suddenly. They didn’t even say goodbye.

In December, Barry got a firm offer on his house. The buyers wanted to occupy in mid-January, and Clive said he would put Barry up, while he looked for another place. He had no desire to stay in the marital home now.

Relations remained amicable, but strained. They separated over Christmas and New Year, spending the holidays with their respective families. Hayley bought her flight ticket to Australia, with the promise that the fare would be reimbursed once she started in her new post.

It made sense to go a couple of weeks early. Move in with Clark, shake off the jetlag, and get used to the heat. Barry was supportive of course. Though he was disappointed when Chrissy called and said she was going steady with an estate agent.

*

Second week in January.

Heathrow Departures.

“Well, I’ll leave you here, babe; got plenty to do today. No need to drag this out.”

They both stood, Barry completely unemotional, and Hayley brimming with tears. He hugged her tightly. It lasted a long time. Then he turned, grim-faced, and strode away. His face only broke out into a grin, when the airport doors hissed behind him.

He made good use of his day off. He went to the bank and cancelled the joint credit card; not that she’d used it for months. Then went home and finished packing. The removal company was due next morning, and a professional cleaning crew in the afternoon.

Finally, checking the copy of the dvd was in his pocket, he drove to a friend’s house.

“Hi Alison!”

“Oh, hi Barry. I wasn’t expecting you. Sorry to hear about you and Hayley. I always thought you two were perfect for each other.”

“Liar.”

“Pardon?”

“I said you’re a liar Alison. You’ve known about her and Clark for ages.”

“I think you’d better leave.”

“I will, but not for a couple of hours. First, I’ve brought a dvd you need to watch.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Plus plenty of anal lubricant! Let’s go inside.”

*

An Adelaide secondary school.

Orientation Day.

“Just a quick debrief,” said the head, “first day of term tomorrow. I think that went very well.”

Murmurs of agreement.

“They look like a pleasant bunch of kids, not too rowdy.” said Clark.

“Is Mrs Simmons not attending?” a colleague enquired. “She is the new head after all.”

“No, she’s gone home.” Clark replied.

He was a little embarrassed; unsure how many of the teachers knew where Hayley’s ‘home’ was.