I heard that Adele used to go to the professional boxing tournaments with her mother. I’m not entirely surprised. Women like violence, whether that be men throwing each other around a wrestling ring or blatting seven shades of shit out of one another at boxing. Adele admits that violence is a normal way of resolving issues. You see her mother was a traveller and that was how the men sorted things out on camp too. The guy who was the best with his fists was the right guy, the definer of issues. I think that her mother must have taught her that stuff, to assume that proper men fight to determine what was right, correct, proven.
I didn’t give much thought to that until some three months after we were married. I was late back from work one evening and the meal that she had cooked was spoiled. It was my fault, I hadn’t telephoned ahead to warn her. So I got in and she was instantly in my face about it. To make amends I said that she should get dressed, we would go clubbing and have one of the taco meals from the stand outside afterwards. You should have seen how she dressed, honest! Her hipster leather jeans barely covered the top of her fucking bush. She hitched her tits up in a balcony bra and a top that made her paps looked as though they had been inflated twice as big. She put her makeup on lush, her lips emphasised and her eyes darker and mysterious using the shadow. Then she put that fucking perfume on that made me (and I assumed most men) want to fuck her.
At the club she wouldn’t dance with me. She was still peeved. So I sat at the bar and knocked back a few drinks. Watching her though, watching her dance with that silky hip thrust motion, she looked as though she was gagging for it. Pretty soon a guy was interested in her. May be the guy was thirty, may be a bit more. He looked well dressed, a husband out for a fun night. I saw him whisper something in her ear. She laughed and whispered back. Then they started to dance together. It was an intimate way of dancing, fuck, the way she brushed her crotch past his. Fingers lingered as they swept against his trousers and then his hand was on her ass. She glanced my way with a petulant ‘so there!’ look.
When he kissed her mouth and she responded, I didn’t go and break it up. I knew, she was putting me through it a bit. I had to watch and suffer. A kiss became a snog and she slipped her arms around his neck. They were pretty much necking on the dance floor, she swaying against his crotch. I was going to have to put him in his place. I was going to have to cool the fucker down, especially when she led him away from the dance floor and out into a court yard at the back of the club.
May be he was drunk or something. At any rate, I had the element of surprise and I caught him with a jab to the face and then an upper cut as he bent double. There was a thump as he collapsed onto the cobbled floor and then a groan as he tried to suck down air and he realised he had a mouth full of blood. Adele stared at me. She stared at me with a crazy mixture of pleasure and taunting in her eyes. She waited for me to come over and re own her. Her expression challenged me. He wanted my cunt, you have to fight for it, her jade green eyes challenged. Anyway, I strode over, kicked him in the ribs and kissed her. I snarled down at him,
‘touch my girl and you take the hiding’.
Adele’s eyes blazed! She really, really liked that. She liked the raw aggression of it. I remember that we left the club, abandoned the idea of the tacos and fucked up against an alley wall nearby. It was casual, dirty, instinctive. I just pulled her leather jeans down, pushed her forward against the grubby wall and took her hard from behind.
As I say, I think that this kind of shit was bred into my wife somehow. I think she had it running through her blood, a wildness and a wantoness, where fists and power ruled. At any rate, a couple of weeks later, it happened again. It was a Sunday and we had driven down to the coast and Adele was wearing a pair of sawn off denim shorts. They really accented her curvy, pert little rear, and the way she walks, her arse was soon getting noticed. It was a hot sort of day and I dozed beneath the golf umbrella that we had fixed up. Adele went paddling in the sea.
For a while she played volleyball in the water with a bunch of guys, but soon enough one peeled off and was giving her a lot of attention. He must have smelled her or something. She was on heat and the shorts weren’t camouflaging her scent. He took her hand and they started strolling through the water further along the shore. I thought, fuck, here we go again. She’s leading the sad bastard into trouble. She’s actually baiting him so he’ll get a good hiding. It was like the men were meant to look and lust but not touch. They were meant to compliment her, kiss her, but not to assume that any coy smile welcomed anything much more.
Further off to the right, a fair walk there were sand dunes. It didn’t take a strategist to work out where Romeo was taking her. I left the umbrella (fuck that) and skirted back to the promenade road so that I could get to the san dunes before them. I remember running, racing across the hot tarmac and the paving stones and swearing under my breath at Adele. She was a fucking cock tease! There had been no row this time. There was no tension between us, she just liked the fact that her looks made men want to take their dick out to her.
I sat cross legged in the dune grass at the top of a rise, lost in the waving greenery. I caught my breath as best I could. The guy led her to a quiet recess in the dunes beneath me. They started to kiss. It really fucking riled me. It made my blood boil that he was kissing her like that and worst still that she was opening her mouth to him. I watched her slip her arms around his neck and then the fucker pushed his hand down and inside the button fly of her soft ice blue denim shorts. He started to finger her. His hand went inside her shorts and he started to finger her, the proper way, his thumb glancing her clit and a couple of his fucking opportunist fingers slipping up inside her.
It was enough. You can’t hear people walk down hill through sand. You literally glide down a dune. So I came up behind him, kicked him in the back of both knees and he dropped into the sand as though he was preying to the little bitch. I remember wrenching her to one side and then grabbing him by the ‘surfs up dude’ leather thong around his pretty neck and frog marching him down to the water. I had him moving pretty quick, the momentum bowling him down to the sea, Adele staring. Fuck, she had that look on her face again. It was a look of pleasure.
Into about three feet of water I marched Romeo and then I dunked his head beneath three times. He was spluttering, begging, struggling, shouting enough already. My girl was a ‘fucking siren’, he was ‘sorry, really sorry’. So I stood him, jabbed him to the gut and watched him collapse on his knees whilst I collected Adele and told her to do her shorts up.
‘If you don’t fuck me…in front of him, then the tests will only get tougher’ she hissed.
She meant it too. She really meant it! But I marched her back to the car and we did it there. We did it in the car, even though some teenagers gawped at us and wondered how ‘any man handles a chick like that!’
I’m pretty reasonable with my fists I really am. I did three years in the army. I don’t go looking for fights but I can give a fair account of myself in a fight when needed. I begged Adele to stop giving those fuckers the come on. She protested that it wasn’t conscious. She didn’t flirt on purpose. With some women the sex appeal is instinctive. Her body sends signals that she can’t stop it.
‘I can’t go on giving men a hiding because of you’ I told her, ‘some day the law isn’t going to understand.’
She simpered at me. It was like I was speaking in Urdu to her or something. She seemed to hear the words, but not to register the significance of them. This was serious! Autumn came and with it a wedding that we went up to in Yorkshire. May be it was her ovulation week again or something. May be it was just that weddings made her feel extra horny. Anyway, the little dress that she wore was in silk, red roses on a white background and it looked fabulous against her sun tanned skin. She was wearing her potion perfume again and she wore her jewellery nonchalant, the bracelet loose on her wrist. She walked as though she knew a lot about sex, she looked at men as if she was asking what they wanted all the time.
There was a black dude there. Someone called him Marvin. Any way, Marvin looked back at Adele much the same way that she looked at him. He passed her a glass of Champagne and they started flirting. I hate fighting unless I have to. This fucker was bigger than the other two. He had a physique on him, as though he knew how to handle himself. I let it run for half an hour, the glib talk, the easy touching. I shook my head at her. No! Not at a wedding. I was sending her such looks, but she ignored everything. I was distraught. I’d have to find another surprise angle to put that bastard down and quickly. I’d have to find a way of doing it discreetly too.
After the wedding luncheon, the speeches and the wine, I saw Marvin lead Adele quietly off to an area behind where the marquee was set up for dancing. I decided to go around the other side, look as though I was taking a smoke break and then swipe him one when he didn’t realise that I was Adele’s husband. I got there nimble and quick. They hadn’t arrived as yet, but there were two other dudes. Two other brothers. I’d seen these fuckers chatting to Marvin after they had arrived late.
‘Hi’ I said and went to slide past them reaching for my cigarettes.
‘You ain’t going cause a fuss man….are you?’ the taller of the two said to me.
I looked at his pock marked face. He looked as though he had made it through smallpox.
‘Don’t know what you mean..’ I ventured and moved to brush on past him. There, there beyond a set of speakers that the band would set up, there was Marvin snogging my wife. They had arrived prompt anyway it seemed. The tall guy grabbed my wrist. I swung at him and landed a decent blow to his ribs. It winded him you could tell, but the other was on top of me like a fucking black panther. He wrapped his thick arms around me and put his knee sharply into my thigh so I was dead legged. My body gave way and I collapsed downwards.
Marvin saw the kerfuffle but he kissed Adele anyway. She was the altercation, but she responded, opening her soft teasing mouth to his. They started to neck, his hands going around to her rear.
Winded bro caught me two swipes across the side of my face and my head jolted round. He was sneering, his white teeth showing. Bro was fucking well hacked off! The second brother brought his knee up into my jaw and I felt as though my teeth were being knocked out. Then the taller one got hold of my ear and twisted it till I yelped. He dragged me forward and held me down on my knees whilst Marvin put his hand up the dress of my wife. I knelt there, panting, panting whilst he felt her up. I was so close I could smell her cum on his fingers. Adele was wet for the fucker, she was grinding down on his arrogant paw.
‘You want him hit again?’ Marvin asked her.
She looked at me panting, shadowed by the two men in black, one of whom was trying to turn my ear into a wine press. My face was swelling, it was swelling already.
‘Have them hit him whilst you take me’ she said calmly, ‘he failed. He should have tried harder.’
I watched the fucker smile and then reach down and unzip his fly. I saw Adele assume the position, leaning against the speaker trolley, her legs akimbo so he could see her wet sex sticking out beneath the hem of her dress.
Marvin’s cock was large and so, I could see was the taller dude’s fist. This was going to hurt.
Lutheran Maid