My Wife Fucking My Friend
So Jennifer pointed no fingers at Peter, nor even at James. James' true nature, and his connection to Peter, went undisclosed. But what Mike already seemed to know, Jennifer confirmed:She met a man at the gym. They became friends. He invited her to join him as a volunteer at the hospital, and she jumped at the chance. Then came the night when the boy Kevin died. It sent her into a deep depression, and she accepted James' suggestion that they go have a drink. Then things got a little ... touchy-feely ... but she righted the ship before it sank.It didn't sound so bad, Jennifer thought. It wasn't so bad, she told herself! Except...Except for the fact that she'd kept Mike in the dark about all of it. Not just with omissions, but with lies—outright lies. Now, Mike was crucifying her for those lies.The lies also impeached her credibility on other matters. Mike refused to believe that she and James had just been friends. He also refused to believe that they'd not had sex that fateful night. ”“Oh, OK, where is this Red Room?”“Through the archway and up the stairs it’s the first door on the right.”Steve slugged the rest of his beer. “OK, what do I owe you?”“That will be £15 please Sir.”“Fifteen quid for a bottle of Becks you are joking?”“My apologies Sir, that’s including the lady’s glass of Champagne.”Steve handed over a twenty pound note. “Keep the change.”He headed across the bar through the stone archway and up the stairs. The lighting grew dimmer the further he walked from the bar until at the top of the stairs he could barely make out his surroundings that were lit by candles on small sconces on the walls of the hallway.He spied a red leather covered door on his right and tried to push it open. Locked! He saw a stream of light coming from the large old fashioned keyhole and thought; let’s see what’s going on in there.He knelt on the carpeted floor and put his eye to the large keyhole.Fucking hell, that’s Trish. Through the keyhole he spied his girlfriend sat on the.
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