Sorry is Not Enough

This is my first ever Halloween submission. If you enjoy it, please rate it.

British vernacular of course. Just for info, a vicar is a Church of England cleric.

There is no sexual content in this story involving anyone under the age of eighteen.

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Amy followed her husband, Tom, from room to room that morning. "Please Tom," she pleaded. "Just let me explain." He ignored her as usual and carried on making a packed lunch for Sophie, their daughter.

Twelve year old Sophie, a daddy's girl almost since birth, joined her father in the kitchen and ignored her mum. "Will you be okay, dad?" the girl asked. Tears welling up. "Since mum and that man-?"

"It's going to be okay Soph," her dad comforted her. "We'll find a way through."

"Hope so, dad." Her voice wobbled with emotion and Tom pulled her in for a reassuring hug.

"Straight home from school tonight," Tom reminded his daughter. "We're expecting company."

Amy shuddered at the thought. That had been Tom's idea. All she wanted to do was explain what had happened and make him understand that it had only ever been about the sex. But no, he wouldn't listen to reason and had invited the vicar to help deal with their problems. The fucking vicar!

By now Sophie had put her lunch in her bag and accepted a farewell kiss on her forehead from her dad as she left for her ten minute walk to school.

"For God's sake, Tom!" Amy shouted. "Don't pretend you can't fucking hear me." Tom just started to tidy the kitchen and Amy stormed off to sulk elsewhere.

It had begun, as so many affairs do, at work. Amy was an attractive woman in her mid-thirties who managed the accounts team. About three months earlier their boss had recruited a new salesman, Anton. As he was given his introductory tour, Anton assessed the team for prospects as any good salesman would. John, the harassed father of ten-year-old twins was irrelevant. Anton greeted him politely enough and then promptly forgot all about him.

Maggie was a roly-poly grandma nearing retirement. Anton reckoned a bit of mild flirting might help him finesse any slightly dubious expense claims through the system, but that was all.

Georgia, well she was a pretty little thing but, at nineteen, probably more trouble than she was worth. Protective dads, jealous boyfriends, even the women she worked with were likely to be looking out for her.

But Amy? Now there was a prize possibly worth the effort. Slender, but with nice tits filling out the lilac top she was wearing. No post-baby flab around the waist, despite the photo on her desk of her posing with a man and a young girl, obviously her family. Even in her customary pony tail, Anton could see that her dark hair was clean and silky. He liked his women to take a pride in their appearance.

Amy was pretty in a very girl-next-door way but her defining feature was her lips. They were a perfect Cupid's bow, highlighted by Amy's choice of deep plum lipstick. Yes, he decided. Those lips would look lovely wrapped around his cock. He channelled that thought into his eyes, his voice and his handshake as they were introduced.

Anton, looking for those subliminal signals, noticed what no-one else in the office did. Amy responded. Her pupils dilated and she licked her lips. He was sure that he even saw her nipples harden under her blouse. She wasn't his yet but, if it was too easy, where would be the challenge. He gave himself two weeks at most before he'd be inside her. After that, he reckoned that she'd do literally anything he asked. He smiled, almost convinced that he could already smell the scent of arousal rising from the junction of her thighs.

Amy sat and listened as her workmates passed judgement on the new guy, once the boss had continued the tour.

"Seems nice enough," John commented, without much interest.

"Oh, he's a charmer," Maggie observed. "He's pretty and he knows it. I imagine the smooth talk works on women as well as customers." She gave Amy a knowing wink.

"Ewww," was Georgia's contribution. She shuddered. "It's icky thinking about old people doing it." Maggie and Amy exchanged a pained glance. Anton was early thirties at best, and they were both apparently too old too. Bloody kids!.

"And you, Amy?" Maggie asked. "Any thoughts?"

"I'm sure he'll fit in nicely," Amy replied, realising only a little later that her comment could be interpreted two ways. In truth, she wasn't quite sure which way that she actually, deep down inside, wanted it to mean.

A week later, Anton caught her alone in the office as she was about to set off home. He kissed her and she didn't resist. "It's not my fault," she told herself as she drove home to her family. "He caught me by surprise."

The following evening she was alone in the office again. This time she had found work to do until the others had left. This time she was wearing nicer underwear. This time, when Anton kissed her, he didn't take her by surprise, but she still didn't resist.

Two days later, Amy told her husband that they had installed a new accounting system and she'd be late home on Thursday evenings for the foreseeable future. Both statements were true. They had installed a new system but it would have actually allowed her to leave earlier rather than later. She had to stay late because it took time to follow Anton to his flat and fuck him. He'd given himself two weeks to get inside her. Amy had surrendered in ten days.

There was no pretence of a romance. Amy was there for one thing; to fuck. That first time, they undressed and she knelt and sucked her new lover to hardness, taking him deeper than she'd ever taken her husband. Then, time being limited, she had simply laid back, legs spread and said, "Fuck me. Fuck me hard."

Anton obliged her, pounding his dick into her willing cunt with no thought of affection or finesse until he spurted, both coming within seconds of each other. Each was elated for their own reasons; Anton because he now had a regular source of pussy with virtually no demands. Amy couldn't insist he went to visit her parents, take her shopping or fix her car. All she could demand from him was sex; he was okay with that.

Amy felt much the same. She was now a woman with a secret lover; she too was fine with that. She didn't want a clingy boyfriend, she just wanted to be fucked by a man who wasn't her husband. She wanted to able to do the things that wives couldn't admit to fantasising about.

Anton was discreet. He didn't like complications. They never booked into hotels or took week-ends away. They didn't have dates in out of the way bars or restaurants. They simply fucked each other, sometimes in the office, mostly in Anton's flat.

As he'd anticipated, the adulterous version of Amy would do anything he asked of her. He took her anally before the month was up. Tom had been too much of a gentleman to even ask. Anton merely slathered lube on his dick and bent her over his bed. It hurt at first, but the thrill, the wickedness as his dick slid through her pucker into her rectum and left his seed where her husband's had never been, more than compensated.

Amy justified her wanton behaviour by convincing herself that Anton was a magnificent lover. In reality he was just selfish. In response to his demands she did things she'd never consider with her husband; things that nice girls just didn't do.

It's impossible to predict how long the affair might have carried on and what might have brought it to an end, had it not been for Amy's car developing a transmission fault. It would be in the workshop for at least two days. It was booked in on Thursday morning and she assured Tom that someone from the office would pick her up from the garage and give her a lift home that evening.

John collected her on the way into the office. They chatted good naturedly in the car and he offered her a lift home after work. She declined, saying that she'd already made other arrangements.

Driving back to Anton's flat that afternoon gave her a new, delicious frisson. They were together, openly, in public. Anton noticed her excitement. "Suck me," he'd demanded. She felt her crotch respond almost instantly.

"What a slut," she'd thought to herself. "Two words from him and I'm almost wet enough to fuck."

She complied willingly, unzipping his trousers and pulling the gusset of his briefs to one side, freeing his cock and balls. She bent to take him in her mouth and he glanced down as he put his left hand onto her head. He revelled in the power he had over this woman. Anton returned his attention to the road. He swore and Amy looked up in alarm. He swerved, there was an impact and the world went black. That had been a week ago.

It was five o'clock and Tom answered the front door, his daughter by his side. "Come in vicar," he said, stepping back.

"Oh, for fucks sake Tom," Amy complained. "Why do we need this old fraud? Just accept my apology and move on." The vicar wasn't offended by Amy's outburst and followed Tom into the living room.

Reverend Adams sat in the chair that Tom indicated, and father and daughter sat side by side on the sofa, holding hands as Amy stood hands on hips behind them.

"Your wife's accident was distressing enough, but the situation that the emergency services discovered after they freed her and her... 'friend'... must have been overwhelming," the vicar said sympathetically. "Are you both coping?"

"No, and we never will until he gets that stick out of his arse and accepts my apology," Amy raged.

"I just can't find it in my heart to forgive her," Tom admitted, his voice thickening with emotion. "And all I hear, day in, day out, is her insistence that it was only sex, that if I loved her I would just move past this. Father?" Tom stared pleadingly at the vicar. "I beg you, please can you help us find peace?"

Reverend Adams stood and opened the case he'd carried in with him. He took out a simple silver candle-stick from it and set it on the table between them. Amy, silent for once, watched as he placed a squat church candle into the holder. He lit it with a match and paused to let the flame take hold.

He then took out an ornate bible and placed it next to the candle. Next came a small silver bowl which he half-filled with water from a small bottle. After that was a simple wooden cross. Finally he took out a small silver bell, about the size of a pear. He closed the case and put it beside the chair.

He rang the bell. Suddenly, Any felt uncomfortable. If the old fart was going to do anything, at least he should be explaining about the virtue of forgiveness, not pissing about with a private mass. After all, if that dozy old man hadn't driven his mobility scooter in front of Anton's car, causing him to hit that bollard, no-one would be the wiser about her little adventure.

Amy realised that two other figures had entered the room, standing in the shadows behind her. Tom and Sophie ignored them, their whole focus on the priest. He dipped his fingers in the bowl and drew a cross on her family's foreheads. He began the ritual.

"Depart, then, transgressor. Depart, you who follow the seducer, full of lies and cunning, foe of virtue, persecutor of the innocent. Give place, abominable creature, give way, you monster, give way to Christ, in whom you found none of your works. For he has already stripped you of your powers, bound you prisoner and plundered your weapons. He has cast you forth into the outer darkness, where everlasting ruin awaits you and your abettors. Leave this place and lets its inhabitants know God's peace in this world while you discover your own fate in the next."

Amy felt sick. Then, the figure to her right stepped forward with his hand raised. The Priest's incantation stopped. Everything stopped. The figure spoke. "When this is done, you will be judged," it told her. "Your fate then will be to come with which ever one of us claims your spirit. Before that happens though, I am permitted to show you this."

Suddenly Amy was aware of time passing. She saw her family crying as they laid a wife and mother to rest. She saw the funeral of the man that she and Anton had killed by their stupid sex games in the car. She saw Anton in surgery to repair his bladder after her head had ricocheted off the steering column and the exploding air-bag had driven her crushed skull even more forcefully into his belly.

She saw him a broken man, sentenced to twenty years in jail for causing death by dangerous driving. She saw him released after fifteen years with no home, no job and no prospects. He tried to use his smooth talk do do the only thing he knew, selling. But he tried to sell drugs in the wrong street and she saw him left to die in an alley in a pool of blood as an example to others. As his life ebbed, two figures appeared; one in white robes, one in black. The white figure stepped back. It had no role in that moment.

The black figure reached out its hand. "You have been judged," it intoned, and Amy watched as Anton's life left his body.

When Amy's consciousness returned to their present she knew, without looking, that the figure behind her was wrapped in darkness. She looked at the pale figure beside her. "Do I have a chance?" she asked. "Did I ever? Was I condemned from the first moment that I let him touch me?"

She though that the being might have smiled, though sadly. "No. It is in your kind's nature to sin. Forgiveness comes from repenting the sin and the hurt it has caused to others. You had no intention of stopping, far from it. Even now, you demand forgiveness for being discovered rather than atoning for your betrayal; that is what condemns you.

She heard movement behind her, then that same hollow voice. "You have been judged," and her world went black again. The messenger, being-of-light, angel, whichever description you prefer, restarted time in the cosy family room. Amy had been tempted and was weak but there was hope for her redemption. In time, centuries perhaps, she might be granted mercy. Anton though, was a predator with no thought, or care, for the consequences of his actions. There was no redemption there.

Insofar as he had a sense of humour, it amused the being to think how satisfied Tom and Sophie would be if there was a way to let them know that there was, indeed, a special place in Hell for Anton and his kind.

As the being's presence faded, the Reverend Adams finished the ritual. "May God's blessing be upon this house," he called out, and the intrusive demands for forgiveness from the departed straying wife and mother fell silent forever.