The Twice-spurned Wife

Two desks over, a phone rang.

Ritchie stopped bashing away at his keyboard, saw there was no one else around to pick it up, rolled his eyes and took the call.

"Newsroom," he answered.

"I'm blazing!" A woman's voice. Angry.

"Ooookayyy," Ritchie said. "What about?"

"My fucking husband. Pardon my French. But my fucking husband."

A beat.

"So... can I ask, why have you called the paper?"

Her husband, she explained, had run off with *that fucking slag* just six weeks ago and she'd found out that the pair of them were already married. A hastily arranged registry office wedding, two days ago. "If you can call that a wedding," she'd spat.

And it got worse, she said. She'd also discovered he already had a wife and family back in Turkey. "Before he married me! Can you believe it?!" she'd exclaimed.

"Bloody bigamist! I want the prick exposed! He should be in prison!"

Ritchie knew it sounded like a story the readers would love. And the editor too.

The woman insisted he come out to see her and so they arranged to meet. She could tell him all about it then.

Ritchie double checked the address in his notebook. Yep, this was the right house. He straightened his tie and rang the bell.

He heard the footsteps drawing nearer from behind the door, heard the lock turn and the door opened. And there she was. The twice-spurned wife. She was short, plump and wore a bright pink towelling robe. Her dirty blonde hair scraped back in a pony tail. And her ruddy complexion and puffy eyes showed she'd recently been crying. She was a good 10 years older than Ritchie - late thirties he guessed.

She looked him up and down. Ritchie gave a little cough, flashed his biggest smile and introduced himself. "Suzie? Hi it's Ritchie from the Target. We spoke on the phone earlier."

"Thanks for coming, love," she said. "You'd better come in then." She opened the door fully and waved him inside."Sorry about all *this*," she said, indicating her robe, her appearance. "But I've not been feeling much like getting dressed and going out for a few days now."

"Oh no, don't apologise, I can't begin to imagine what you've been going through," Ritchie sympathised as he stepped past her.

"Just down here on the left," Suzie said, gesturing.

Ritchie entered the living room. It felt empty and unloved. Much like its owner, Ritchie thought.

One large red sofa, a small glass coffee table and an enormous television standing in the corner. The curtains were still drawn shut and dull orange light came from a the ceiling light, barely reaching the pale bare walls where a series of dirty marks betrayed the family pictures that had recently been taken down.

Suzie invited Ritchie to sit so he perched on the sofa, declined the offer of a cup of tea and took the notebook and pen from his pocket.

Suzie sat beside him and tucked her legs beneath her.

He didn't mean to, but as she did so Ritchie caught the briefest flash of bush under her gown. He quickly looked away, flustered. Suzie didn't seem to notice. That could have been awkward, Ritchie thought to himself.

"So, just start at the beginning and I'll take notes as we go along if that's Ok?" he explained.

Suzie said that was fine and started at the beginning.

She told how they'd met on holiday. He was a waiter at the resort in Oludeniz. They'd had a fling and it continued when she arrived back home. Texts and pictures all day long. For months. Then he visited. And he visited again. But this time he didn't return home. He got a job working at The Bodrum - the place in town, do you know it? - and they were married within a year.

And the first few months were perfect. Suzie smiled as she recalled this time, her wide smile instantly making her face glow.

"The sex was amazing," she said, conspiratorially, lightly touching Ritchie's knee and letting out a small giggle.

Ritchie, a little uncomfortably, tried his best to reply with a knowing smile.

Suzie carried on. It started falling apart pretty quickly, she confided. The later nights, the sex life drop off, the early suspicions. All confirmed when, last month, she'd returned from work to find all his things gone. A note on the mantelpiece explaining how he was so so sorry, but he'd found someone else.

A furious Suzie had marched straight to the Bodrum hoping to confront him and possibly scratch his eyes out. He wasn't there but she still caused a scene, hurling plates and cutlery and demanding he be brought to her. She chuckled a little as she recalled this. His work colleagues had managed to calm her and ushered her into the kitchen and sheepishly told her what they knew. Who he was now seeing. How long it had been going on.

"Kalifa Fry! I couldn't believe it. She's a proper dog. And she lies. I went to school with her. We were still friends. And she'd been fucking my husband from the minute he arrived."

Ritchie could feel the anger now bubbling and popping off Suzie, spotted the tear rolling down her red cheek.

He put his notepad down and gently reached over, a hand on the shoulder.

"It sounds awful for you," he said. "How did you feel when you found out?"

He knew the question would set her off. But he needed some good quotes for the story, emotional quotes, and now that he'd pressed the trigger, he picked up his pad once more as she provided them.

When her upset subsided, Ritchie asked to see the wedding certificate and were there any pictures of them together - on holiday, perhaps, or on their wedding day - she could send him?

The story would need those.

She got off the sofa and left the room briefly, returning with some papers and some pictures in frames.

"That's us on our wedding day," she said, handing the picture to Ritchie and climbing back beside him on the sofa. A little closer this time, Ritchie felt.

He looked at the photo.

"Crikey, that's you?" he said. "Sorry I didn't mean for that to sound rude... but you look fantastic!"

And she did. Draped around her new husband - a handsome man, all brown eyes and stubble - her head thrown back, laughing, sunlight bouncing off her long blonde hair, ruby red lips glinting. The impressive low cut white dress pushing up her impressive bosom.

"I told you I scrubbed up well didn't I?" she laughed. The laugh quickly faded though, as she continued.

Just like her own wedding, the *fucking cheating bastard's* latest wedding had been all over facebook, she said. "Shameless, fucking shameless," she hissed.

"And then this comes..." she went on. Suzie stood again, walked over to the coffee table and picked up a sheet of paper. She handed it to Ritchie. It had been torn up and stuck back together with sellotape. A legal letter. From Turkey. Sent on behalf of his first wife.

"Bloody hell," Ritchie gulped. He read the letter, which carried all manner of threats to the bigamist husband and calls for financial recompense. He then looked up and asked: "Can I take a copy of this?"

Suzie, still standing in front of him, nodded yes, he could.

As he'd looked up, Ritchie had noticed her robe must have loosened as she'd moved about the room, getting on and off the sofa. The cord had untied. Her large round breasts almost spilling out from the middle. Ritchie panicked. Quick thoughts tearing round his mind: Oh my god am I looking at her tits? Shit, did she catch me?

He averted his eyes, felt his face reddening, felt he needed to say something.

"Erm, well I think I've got all I need for now," he blustered. "And I can call you if I've forgotten something can't I?"

"You can, love," Suzie said.

"And would you be Ok if I send a photographer round to get some pictures of you for the piece?" he asked.

"When?"

"Later today? Is that any good?"

"Oh yes, give me a chance to scrub up a little! Like I said, I don't normally look like this you know?" she explained, and gave a small laugh.

Ritchie tried to share in the joke and smiled. "Well you've been through a lot... and I don't think you look half as bad as you think..." He was trying to be nice. Shit. Does it sound like I'm flirting?

"Oh you've been so sweet, thank you,"Suzie said.

A brief silence and then she spoke again.

"Plus, you're helping me to nail that fucking prick and show everyone what kind of man he is! I should have just got a nice man... like you."

Ritchie felt himself blushing and tried to laugh it off.

The compliment gave him a tiny flash of heat in his groin.

And as he looked at this rejected woman, standing in front of him in a robe that was loose enough to reveal most of her firm round tits, a naval, a wisp of fur below it...

"Well it's a good story so we're helping each other aren't we," he said at last, breaking the silence.

"We are," Suzie agreed. "It feels such a long time since anyone was kind to me as well," she continued.

"If we can't be nice to each other what can we do eh?" Ritchie said, the heat in his groin rising. Shit it definitely sounds like I'm flirting.

"Mmm yeah, I agree," Suzie said, as one hand searched out her sex under her gown.

She gasped when she found it.

Ritchie's mouth dried. He watched Suzie slowly explore herself. She closed her eyes, one foot raised on tiptoes, then with her other hand she loosened the cord of her gown fully until it fell apart completely.

It granted Ritchie a full view of her hairy mound, fingers exploring herself, her large tits spilling free. Her milky skin tensing all the while. She let out a light moan. "Thank you for being kind," she whispered, eyes still closed.

Ritchie sat back on the sofa, watching. He knew Suzie was emotionally vulnerable - but no one told his cock that. He felt it harden and shift. Ritchie traced his index finger along its outline in his trousers.

Suzie opened her eyes again and looked straight at Ritchie. Ritchie saw she was biting her bottom lip. Her eyes travelled to his midriff. She saw how he'd grown at the sight of her nakedness in this quiet, bare room, reached out and touched him.

Ritchie tried not to gulp as she made a claw and ran her nails along the outline of his cock. As she took a sharp intake of breath whenever she caught her clit. And as the claw reached into his trousers to dislodge his fattening dick.

He could have stood up, jumped to his feet, could have made his excuses and hastily left. But he didn't. It was Ritchie's turn to let out a low moan now as his stiff cock was pulled out, Suzie's delicate fingers clasping his pulsating shaft.

He suddenly leaned forward and was on her cunt like a predator pouncing on prey. Nose deep in her wiry dark mound, tongue probing her pussy, pushing her lips open to reveal a deep pink which matched the open robe.

Suzie grabbed his head with both hands, pushing his face into her, mewling like a kitten.

Ritchie continued lapping away at her wetness, lashing her fat clit, grabbing the back of her thighs and feeling her shake under his expert tongue.

Eventually Suzie couldn't hold back. She pulled her gown from her shoulders, letting it drop to the carpet, and demanded he fuck her right there and then. I want your cock deep inside me. Please fuck me. Please.

She turned her back to him, knelt on all fours and thrust her round ass in the air towards him. Ritchie stood and clumsily dropped his pants to his ankles, almost tripping in his haste to enter this waiting woman.

Ritchie knelt behind Suzie, arching her back and slowly rocking side to side like her whole body craved him. He took his firm cock and shuffled forward on his knees until he could slap her pussy with it. Suzie groaned with anticipation. Both of them fizzing now expectantly. He guided himself inside her and pushed. Her whole body trembled and she cried out. Fuck, yesss. Yesss.

And he was in her, hips rocking back and forth, his throbbing cock sliding in, out, in, slowly.

And every push brought a tremor from Suzie, who clasped his cock with the walls of her sopping cunt but did little to slow down Ritchie's rhythmic pumping.

Ritchie grabbed Suzie's ponytail, found purchase and yanked her head back, pulled her towards him so he could go deeper inside her. She gave a yell and Ritchie started, ready to let go. But then she laughed and told him: good lad, that's what Suzie likes.

Then she pulled herself away from him and flipped into her back. She raised her knees. "Fucking do me like this, go on," she urged.

He did so. Forcing his wet cock back jnside her, his chest now resting on hers, his hands grasping her round ass.

"Choke me, bite me," Suzie begged through her panting.

It flipped a switch inside the excited young man. He drove into her with more intensity as their bodies slap slap slapped together, the pair of them now grunting in unison like animals in heat.

Richie reached up and grabbed Suzie's throat, finger gripping her smooth pale neck, slowly tightening his grip. Suzie's grunting stopped, her face reddening but her smile of satisfaction never leaving it.

Until - until she coughed and Ritchie's grip loosened, the white imprint of his fingers still there.

Then he found himself slapping her face, her tits, each strike bringing a "yes" of delight from Suzie.

And he could feel it. The first fizz in his groin telling him he was going to cum.

And as he bit down on her dark, hard nipple, bringing a loud cry from his insatiable partner, he felt the jet streaming through his erect cock and shot streams of hot semen inside Suzie's cunt. He continued driving away at a hundred miles per her, the sweat now teaming down his face, his body, and felt the cum firing out and into her.

Suzie felt it too and screamed encouragement. "Give it me, give it all to me!" she shouted, her nails now digging through his crumpled shirt and into his back. And she held onto him like that until his thrusting slowed, slowed, and ended.

As the spent young man collapsed on top of her, Suzie nuzzled his neck and whispered into his ear. "You've no idea how much I needed that," she said.

They lay like that for several minutes, way after his slippery, flaccid cock fell from her creamy cunt.

After a while, Suzie whispered into his ear again. "You've need to leave now...Before my husband gets home."

Ritchie sat up with a start. "Your... wait - are you fucking with me?"

Was she joking?

"Oh babes, no. Well, I have been, yeah, but I'm not now."

A look of total confusion passed over Ritchie's face.

He waited for an explanation. Eventually it came.

"My husband's not a bigamist. He'll be home from work in half an hour and I need to get all the pictures back on the walls. And you need to leave. Sorry."

She placed a hand on Ritchie's cheek.

"But thanks, babe, you did great."

"So, what? You got me out here because you just wanted someone to fuck?" he asked with incredulity.

"Got it in one lover boy," Suzie said.

"Look, I am sorry I led you on but... well you enjoyed yourself didn't you?" she added.

Ritchie didn't answer. He just pulled up his trousers then buttoned up his shirt, glaring at the still-spreadeagled Suzie as he did so.

But then he had to admit he had enjoyed himself. A smirk started to cross his lips.

"There you go. That's my boy. I knew you'd come round to it," Suzie grinned.

She got to her feet and placed a soft, lingering kiss on his mouth.

"And you've still got a story. Just one that you can't print in the paper." She chuckled at her own joke, grabbed Ritchie's notebook and pen from the disheveled sofa and passed it to the naive young reporter as he straightened his tie.

"Come on, I'll show you out," she said.