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, Ağrı Escort 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 Ağrı Escort Bayan 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 Escort Ağrı 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.