This next story will be out of sequence, but I want to get it off my chest. I'm skipping a few years to an episode near the end of my first marriage in Christchurch. I need to cover some background and give context to how this fucked up story transpired.
If you have read some of my earlier stories, you will know that I sowed many wild oats in my youth. So when I met my first wife in 1974, I was twenty-six, tired of all the one-night stands and looking to settle down. Some of my friends had told me that Julia was not right for me, and my Grandmother had even taken me aside and asked if I was sure of my choice of partner. But they say love (Lust) is blind, and I did not listen to anyone. It just made me more determined to be a good husband to her and prove everyone wrong.
I did not take my pending marriage lightly, and I entered into the union with the honest intention to remain faithful no matter what temptations arose. However, from almost day one of our honeymoon, I realised I may have made a mistake. The attractive, shy Julia who had partied with me, followed me to rugby games, skiing, etc., changed overnight. Half the things I thought we enjoyed together, she announced she did not like doing at all. She wanted to make a home, be a housewife, have children etc. Now I was OK with all those things, but just not immediately. There was plenty of time for that; I wanted to take her to parties, go sailing, scuba dive, travel, and have fun.
We only went out for about three months before marrying, and I thought the sex was pretty good. But on the honeymoon, suddenly, there were things Julia was not OK with anymore. Her good Roman Catholic upbringing had much to do with it. And so overnight, our sex life went from satisfactory to awkward and unfulfilling. Not a sound basis for a good healthy marriage. There were other issues, but I should not denigrate her any more; I was far from perfect.
Julia had brothers and sisters. Her elder sister, Megan and I were the same age. (Julia was seven years younger).
Megan was smart, attractive and easygoing. She was married to Bill, who was almost illiterate. He was a good guy but had given school away when he was ten and worked on his parent's farm. Megan was very unhappy with her relationship by the time I started dating Julia. I often had to go around and mediate Megan and Bill's issues. The background of all their arguments was Bill's feelings of inadequacy and his belief that Megan was outsmarting him and putting him down all the time.
Megan and I became close, but our relationship was purely platonic. We came close to betraying our partners on more than one occasion, but we always caught ourselves and pulled back. Many of our friends, even my mother-in-law, once exclaimed that I should have married Megan, not Julia.
I tried hard to get Julia, and my marriage to work, skipped parties with friends that Julia didn't like, and stopped seeing some of my old rugby mates for the same reason. In the bad times, I thought about divorce. But we had two beautiful children, and I wanted to do the right thing by them, and in my mind, that meant staying together, so they had a stable upbringing.
In late 1978, Megan complained to me about Bill coming home late on Friday nights and asked if I would go out with him. Megan did not ask me to spy; it was more that she thought that my being such a faithful husband would keep Bill in check. What a joke, if only she knew!
Again, some background. In those years, it was common for workers to finish work on a Friday and head to the Pub with their mates. I was a self-employed builder and would meet up with colleagues on Friday nights, usually at one of the supplier's premises. There was always plenty of alcohol, sometimes finger foods. I would drive home around 7:00 pm with a good belly full. Eat my dinner, then fall asleep in front of the TV.
My brother-in-law Bill, however, was in a different set. He would have an early dinner on Friday nights, then get dressed and head out to meet his mates at the Pub. And would frequently get home after midnight. Julia did not mind that Megan asked me to go out with Bill; we were arguing a lot, and she was probably happy to see the back of me.
On the first night out, I found another culture at play. Bill and his mates would arrange to meet at hotels around the Christchurch CBD, Coker's Hotel being their first choice, but there were others they frequented. They would drink and bullshit one another till closing time (10:00 pm), and then there would invariably be a party to go to. There were as many married women as men at the hotels, all looking to hook up. I managed to ward off the temptations offered for the first few Friday nights out with Bill. But it did not last. I can't remember my first indiscretion, but suffice it to say, soon, I was playing up, just like most of the other guys. For the next two years, I played a double life, working hard to provide a good life for my family, but on many Friday nights, I would be making out with some frustrated wife in the back seat of my car.
I didn't have to lie to Megan about what Bill was getting up to, as he hardly ever hooked up with any ladies, and when he did, it was to talk. His thing was going out with the boys and getting smashed. I should add that we all drove home like that, and I don't remember any of us ever getting pulled up for drunk driving. And I don't know of any of us having an accident; I certainly didn't.
Back to the story, Julia and I were going our own way most of the time during the last two years of our marriage. She worked at the Bush Inn three or four nights a week and usually got home after midnight, even though the Pub closed at 10:00. She said the staff stayed for drinks once the bar closed. I suspected she was playing up but did not make a scene, as we both knew we were only staying together for our children. On the weeknights, I would stay home and babysit. At the weekends, we used babysitters. Frequently we used Julia's younger sister, who would stay the night, or sometimes the children would stay with Julia's parents.
Over this time, I met some lovely ladies, but they were all one-night stands. I was not looking for anything other than a quick bonk, as I didn't want to separate and lose my kids. Most of the women were married anyway, so they were only interested in a one-nighter.
About a year before Julia and I separated, I hooked up with Bernice. She was one of Megan's best friends; they met at the Convent on their first day of school. Megan asked Bernice to most of her family functions; birthday parties, Weddings, etc. She was in an unhappy marriage, and Megan was trying to get her to leave her husband. Bernice was attractive and always looked vulnerable, so you will not be surprised to hear that I always searched her out and chatted with her when she was around. From when we first met, there was chemistry between us, but we both kept an arm's distance, scared that friends or family would notice our attraction to each other.
Like most of Megan's friends, Bernice was a good catholic girl. The nuns taught them from an early age that poverty, chastity and obedience were the things that got you into heaven. However, some nuns took it much further, telling their innocent young charges that St Peter had a list at the gates of heaven. If they touched themselves between the legs with anything other than a flannel, they would get a big red cross against their name and be barred at the pearly gates.
Bernice had dozens of red crosses against her name by the time she was married at seventeen. She had lost her virginity to an uncle when she was very young. She came from a family of nine children, and I'm pretty sure two of her brothers may have interfered with her. There were boys at school. Then when she left school and got a job at an Import/Export company, the boss, a man in his sixties, kept her behind some nights and had his wicked way.
She had gotten pregnant to some jerk when only seventeen, and as was the norm in those days, had to marry him. In an unhappy marriage, her son was born six months later and a daughter less than a year after the boy. When I first met Bernice, her children were aged twelve and eleven. Five years later, about the time I joined the Friday night hookup scene, Bernice was going through a very messy divorce. The son and daughter stayed with her husband in the family home so that they could stay at their respective schools. A situation that was not helping Bernice's mental state. She had moved into a two-bedroom flat with another divorced woman.
At a family function one night, Bernice and I sat on the deck, quietly discussing our marriage issues, and I mentioned that Julia had never had an orgasm. Bernice admitted to me that she hadn't either. I was incredulous; I had naturally assumed that with all the guys she had slept with, she must have been dynamite in bed. But no, she admitted to me she just lay there and put up with it, as her mother had told her she had to do.
By early 1980 I was becoming despondent with the Friday night scene, often turning down smiling available women and heading home early. And one night, seated next to Bernice at a birthday party, I asked her how things were going. "Not good," was her reply. She was doing it tough and hinted to me that she was often lonely and missed the intimacy of a relationship. Yet she had not met anyone in whom she was remotely interested.
I was surprised, as she was an attractive woman, and I thought she would have had guys hanging around the moment she became single. I offered to take her out for dinner the coming Friday, saying that Julia was working and things were not good at home. But Bernice did not want to be seen out with me. She knew that people would talk and that she would get the blame for my marriage failing. So I asked about meeting somewhere private to talk. And she replied that she would really like that. So I picked her up at her flat the following Friday, and we drove down to a wooded area in North Brighton. We just talked and did nothing more than kiss goodnight when we parted.
The following week I met with her again, and our goodnight kiss turned passionate when we went to leave. As we broke apart, she asked why I was not making any advances and whether I did not find her attractive. I quickly squashed that idea and told her the truth; I was incredibly attracted to her, but I didn't want to be just another guy that lay on top of her, blew my load, and then buggered off home. She said she didn't mind. But I didn't want our relationship to be like that. So I drove her home, arranging to meet her again the following week.
In those days, it was not that easy to get good information about sex. No internet, and many books were years old and full of more misinformation than anything of use. But I had read an article in Playboy magazine, written as a guide for women, on how to achieve an orgasm. It talked about the obvious things, like being relaxed, taking time, being well-lubricated, etc. But one thing that caught my attention was for a woman to masturbate and get confident in achieving an orgasm, and then an orgasm would become much easier to accomplish with their partners.
So on our next date, I told Bernice about this and urged her to masturbate for me. Her reply was a definite, "No way!" It took another two or three dates and a lot of encouragement and for-play on my part before she gave in. That first time is burned in my memory forever. As I fingered her, she tentatively slipped her hand down and touched her clit. She squeezed her eyes shut so as not to see me watching her, and she masturbated herself to a small climax. I had to speak reassuring words and tell her how much watching her was turning me on throughout.
On our next date, I hardly had to give Bernice any encouragement, and as soon as I had her sufficiently aroused, she began to masturbate on her own. We were in the back seat, parked in the woods at Brighton. She was leaning against the left-side door, and I pulled back, leaving her to do it alone. I pulled out my cock and started to masturbate myself. When she opened her eyes and saw me masturbating, she got very excited, so I moved across the seat and presented my cock to her. She didn't hesitate, took it into her mouth, and when I almost instantly exploded, she came as well.
By now, I was seeing Bernice two or three times a week. And one night, parked around the back of Christchurch airport, she asked me to go all the way. I quickly had her naked from the waist down, climbed aboard and went to town. It was not my best effort, I came way too soon, as I was so aroused. She started blaming herself for not being able to climax. But we talked things through, waited for half an hour and tried again. It was much better; she came quite quickly, and I continued on, trying to get myself off a second time. When I finally came, Bernice had a second much more rewarding climax. Over the next few months, we explored her sexuality, and surprisingly, found she was multi-orgasmic.
It was a very secret affair, she was adamant that none of our friends was to know about us, Megan especially. So we never went near the Friday night pub scene. As our relationship evolved, I hardly ever went out with my mates on a Friday night. Getting half-cut and having quick unsatisfactory sex with some unfamiliar woman in the back of my car, no longer held much appeal.
Our meetings were usually on the backseat of my Falcon, midweek, and Friday nights when I could get a babysitter for a few hours. Bernice did not want her flatmate to know she was fucking a married man, so we only went to Bernice's place if her flatmate was away. I should mention, that Bernice and I never talked about our marrying or even dating openly. It was purely what today is called 'friends with benefits'. She knew I had fucked some of Megan's other friends and never seemed to mind. She was indeed a wonderful lady.
Our routine became pretty standard once I found out what she liked. As soon as we were parked up, she would give me a blowjob and get me off as quickly as possible. While she was blowing me, I would be playing with her tits and fanny, and often she would climax when I came. Then, after her blowjob, I would often go down on her and, using my tongue and fingers, give her another orgasm. After that, we would fuck. We tried many positions and places. She liked the excitement of public sex but was mortified at being caught. So sometimes I'd talk her into doing it outside the car, with people nearby. And I remember us making love in the front window box of her flat one night when some people walking home from a party stopped outside the hedge and watched us. I thought Bernice would go nuts and stop me, but she was too excited and had a massive orgasm before she scuttled away and hid from sight.
A funny aside; one night, when I was going down on her, she had her feet up in the air, and she came so hard her high heels tore two holes in the ceiling trim of the Falcon. I had to explain to my wife that a piece of timber with two nails had done the damage.
In late 1981, Julia and my marriage had run its course. She was openly talking about leaving me and taking up with her latest flame, an unsavoury character with links to a local bikie gang. He was one of the bouncers where she worked, and I was not happy with the thought of him bringing up my children. So I went to his flat one night, got very heavy, and persuaded him to end their relationship.
——
In the last two months of our marriage, Julia started dating a guy I knew well and liked. We were working through our separation and my moving back to Auckland.
And about this time, Bernice had asked me to accompany her to her company's work function. It was a dine-and-dance, with a DJ playing music. We were seated at a table with half a dozen of her workmates. I'd had a couple of dances with Bernice, and had just sat down when an attractive young woman from another table came over and asked Bernice if she could have a dance with me. She explained that her husband didn't dance.
I still remember her name, Tami, and we hit it off. As we danced she told me all about herself, how unhappy she was in her marriage, etc. At the end of the bracket, I returned to sit with Bernice. She told me that all her workmates were talking about my dancing with Tami, as they thought she was very prim and proper and were amazed she had asked me to dance. Tami gave me the eye a couple of dances later, and I alternated between her and Bernice for the rest of the night. As mentioned, Bernice was never possessive, and my dancing with Tami didn't worry her. But Tami's husband was a very different story. He was giving me dirty looks and, near the end of the night, came onto the dance floor and dragged Tami away, threatening me and making a bit of a scene.
Sometime after midnight, when the Deejay announced his last bracket, Tami came over and asked me for one last dance. She manoeuvred us to the far side of the dance floor, stuck her hand in my pocket and gripped my cock. It was semi-hard but immediately became fully erect. I didn't know what to do; I couldn't walk back to the table like that. And even though she seemed to be trying to get me off, which would have been a very nice solution, it was not the time or place.
Luckily Bernice came to my rescue, excused Tami, and Bernice and I had the last dance together. Bernice had seen where Tami had her hand and quizzed me about it. I had to be honest with her; I had never seen it coming. We drove to her flat that night, as her roommate had gone skiing. And we had the most incredible sex. I'm sure the sex was enhanced by the fact that Bernice had caught Tami playing with my cock on the dance floor.
Anyway, the next morning, when I awoke, I gathered my week's dirty washing, asked Julia what she had that needed washing, and went out back to our wash house. Bernice and I had been in such a hurry the night before we had fucked without my removing my trousers. And when I got home, I noticed the white mess coated all around the front of my pants. Hence my doing the washing. The first thing I did was empty the pockets and found a blue folded piece of notepaper. The message inside read, 'Call me at work, Tami', underneath was a phone number. I knew the number well, as I often called Bernice on it.
Well, Monday lunchtime, heart in my mouth, I dialled the number. Once I had Tami on the phone, she told me her husband was away three days that week and asked if I could come and see her. The storey was that her husband was a sales rep and travelled out of town twice a month. This week it was down South as far as Invercargill, and he wouldn't be back until late Thursday.
I had to think long and hard about whether I should go or not. Bullshit! I was as keen as hell.
I called a babysitter on Wednesday night and was outside her door at 7:30 sharp. We sat on the couch to talk, but within minutes I was donkey-deep and fucking her with abandon. Afterwards, we talked, and I asked her about protection. I know, a bit bloody late to be asking that. Tami informed me not to bother with it; she and hubby had been trying for a baby for about six months and were not having much luck. She said they had both been tested, and it turned out he had lazy sperm, so it would be touch and go if she ever got pregnant.
She made no apologies for the fact that she was hoping I would get her pregnant, as I had the same physique and colouring as her husband, and he would never know. It didn't bother me much, I didn't think it was right by any means, but I was just there to fuck. However, she was a very attractive lady, so I did wonder what a baby from us two would look like. Soon she wanted to have sex again, and she did a striptease for me, before removing all my clothes and whisking me away to their marital bed. I left just before midnight, so I could get home and dismiss the babysitter well before Julia arrived home. I was feeling pretty chuffed on the drive home. I'd given her at least three orgasms, and she had raved about how good a lover I was and how big my cock was compared to her husband. Just the sort of stuff a red-blooded male wants to hear.
She wanted me to come around again two weeks later, but a Tuesday night this time, as hubby was away north of Christchurch and would only be away Tuesday and Wednesday nights. And again, we had heated sex. On the dining room table to start with, then she wanted me to bend her over hubby's workbench in the garage and fuck her from behind. And all of Bernice's workmates thought this girl was a prim and proper little lady. It's a funny old world as my mate Ivan would say.
I didn't see Tami the following week, as It was not a week her hubby travelled. And that Friday, I flew up to Auckland, where I attended a Westlake High school reunion on Saturday night. Megan and Bill had finally split a couple of months earlier, and she had moved to Auckland to start a new life. We had been keeping in touch, and she called me the night before I flew out, asking me if I would take her to my reunion. She had been dating a guy that she knew would be there. There were also some other friends we knew were going, so I readily agreed. I didn't tell Julia, though; why rock the boat? She would have only given me hell about my fucking her sister, which erroneously she thought I had.
I stayed with my parents a few miles away from the school and borrowed my mother's car. I picked Megan up around 7:00 pm at a flat in Milford. When we arrived at the school, we parted ways, and I searched for some of my old school friends. After a while, Megan came over and introduced me to the guy she was chasing. He was a jerk: good-looking, tall, olive-skinned, and very sure of himself. A bit too much like me. We each gave one another hostile glances. Not that I was at all jealous of him being with Megan, but I did want the best for her, and his constant glances at all the pretty women passing by told me he was not going to be the one for Megan.
Megan sensed our dislike of each other and dragged him away. As soon as they left, an old mate of mine's younger sister came over. We hugged, and she got up on her toes and kissed me on the lips, which took me back for a second. I had always wanted to sleep with her, but it had never happened.
I had felt her up a couple of times when fooling around in our youth. But the closest we came to having sex was when she jacked me up with her girlfriend. We met down the end of their road in Smiths Bush, Takapuna. Jill was with her current boyfriend, and her girlfriend had asked Jill to jack up a date with me. The guy and I, lay our jerseys down in the long grass, the girls stripped their skirts and panties, and we fucked the girls as they lay alongside each other. I remember I was keen to swap after I had fucked Jill's girlfriend, but the other guy was not interested in swapping.
Jill and I talked about the times we had come close and questioned why we had never slept with one another. Then she looked at me and said, "About time we rectified that, isn't it?"
By mutual agreement, we headed for the side door. I followed her out of the hall and around behind the prefabs. P.4. to be exact. She pulled her knickers down, stepped out of them and stuck them under my nose. She had always been forward. Fuck, they were wet and had a strong aroma of her sex. I grabbed them off her and put them in my pocket. Then fucked her up against the prefab wall. While we were at it, another couple came and started going at it down the other end of the prefab. For the rest of the night, I watched with amusement, other couples sneaking out the side door.
When we finished and were walking back to the hall, I asked Jill what she was doing now, hoping I could spend the night with her, as I was still bloody horny. And I was sure she wanted some more. But she told me she needed to locate her husband, who was inside somewhere with friends. And told me to wait outside the hall for 5 minutes. She asked me for her knickers back, but I shook my head, "They are mine to remember you by." She didn't complain; she just turned, flicked the back of her skirt up so I could see her naked arse, and slipped back into the hall. Bloody tease!
Sometime around midnight, Megan found me; she was angry as her guy had dumped her for another woman and had not been very kind with his parting words. I could see she was close to tears. We hadn't planned on leaving together, but I didn't mind. So after some goodbyes, I helped her to the car and drove her home.
When we got to her place, she insisted I come inside and have a good night's drink. And as you can probably guess, soon we were in the sack fucking. I knew it was wrong, You just did not fuck your sister-in-law, very bad form. But I had wanted to nail her for years, and I'm a weak-willed bastard when my willie is hard. I'd like to describe the multitude of positions and many orgasms we had. But as this is a true story, I cannot lie. The reality was, that she was a terrible fuck, just lay there not moving a muscle. I could not get out of the bedroom fast enough, a great disappointment after all my years of lusting after her.
I flew back to Christchurch the next day (Sunday) to my disintegrated marriage. The next day I went to pick up some timber for the job I was doing, and there was a message at reception for me. It was from Tami. Leaving messages at the timberyard was one of our ways of contacting one another. Her husband was down South, and she wanted to see me on Tuesday and Wednesday nights, and could I phone her at work?
So Tuesday night, as soon as I was in through the front door, she was in my arms and dragging me over to the kitchen bench. Afterwards, we talked, but soon she was going down on me, and when she had me hard, she dragged me to the bedroom for more sex. She got off on our making love on her husband's side of the bed and liked us to talk dirty, which turned me on no end. The next night I was back down to her place again, and when I left that night, she informed me that it was her most fertile time of the month, and she hoped she might get pregnant.
Although a bit uneasy thinking about the complications that could arise if she became pregnant, I was on cloud nine. And I felt even better when Bernice called the next day, to say that her flatmate was away and I could come over and stay the weekend.
I told Julia I was skiing with a mate for the weekend; this was by no means abnormal. I did go away skiing with mates two or three times every ski season. One of my friends had a place down at Twizel, with a ski field nearby. I'm pretty sure that Julia had something planned and was happy to be rid of me.
I packed all my gear and headed off as soon as I got home from work on Friday. Parked out of sight around the back of Bernice's flat and met her at the back door. I dragged her into the outside laundry and lifted her onto the washing machine. Then, with her knickers around her ankles, I went to town, a very memorable fuck. It was an old agitator machine with a wringer on top above the tub and a big lever on the side to set the agitator going. Once we started humping, my knee hit the agitator lever, and the machine started vibrating. Bernice was most impressed. It must have been a bit like sitting on a Symbian device, not that we knew anything about them in those days.
We kept our heads down, not daring to go out. We just watched the Telly, listened to music and had lots of good sex. But Sunday, I was a bit itchy around my nether regions. I had a good shower before going home around dinnertime, and the itching lessened. Monday, however, it was unbearable, so after lunch, I packed up my tools and went to see our doctor. He took one look down there and told me I had Crabs!!! I asked him how and when, and he told me I would have caught them about five to seven days before and asked if I had slept with Julia. When I said I had been up in Auckland and she wasn't with me, he said that I needed to tell her, as just lying next to her in the same bed would most likely mean she had them as well. He gave me a prescription for a lotion for both of us.
And so started the worst three or four days of my life. I found Julia getting ready for work that night when I got home. I didn't tell her then as I was still shocked and sorting out just how big a mess I was in. Once she took off to the Pub, I fed the kids, bathed them, read their stories, and got them into bed. Then poured a stiff drink, sat and sorted out what I should do.
I figured it had to be Megan, Julia's sister, who had given them to me. I was pretty sure it wasn't Jill nor Tami as both were married, and I was sure they were not fucking around with anyone else. So when the kids were sound asleep, I put a toll call through to Megan in Auckland. She tried to deny it at first and even suggested I had given the crabs to her. But I wrangled out of her that she had them since the Monday after we had slept together, and as I had not found out until the week after, she came clean that Mr Smooth, from the School reunion, had to have given them to her. She was worried I'd tell her sister where I got them, and I spent the last ten minutes on the phone assuring her I wouldn't ever tell it was her.
Next, I called Bernice; she took it quite well. I told her I had no idea how I'd caught them, hinting at a toilet seat or from a towel at the swimming pool. But, again, I could not tell her it was from Megan, her best friend. She was not stupid. I'm sure she figured out I had been with some girl at the reunion. I spent the next two weeks on tenterhooks, hoping that Megan did not tell Bernice that I had taken her to the reunion. For I knew Bernice would have twigged where I caught them.
I couldn't call Tami that night, as being a Monday night, I knew her husband would be home. So I called her at work the next day. She was not a happy girl, as she would most certainly have given them to her husband. She gave me shit and called me some pretty choice names. I never saw her again, so I have no idea how she handled it with her husband or if she was pregnant. But the month before I left Christchurch, I saw a lot of Benice and she never mentioned Tami having any issues. So I had to conclude that all was well there.
When I told Julia, she gave me a bloody hard time. She used my infidelity to drive a tough divorce settlement. I was a very happy boy the day I set out for Auckland.
Funny to look back on it now, but my shenanigans cost me thousands, on my settlement.
