Chapter 67

Sex with her was fine as well, although there was always a treacherous little thought within me after a bout of good loving that wondered if her responses to me had come from an Ikea instruction booklet: do this and then this, then turn it over and screw that, and then pound that and hope there are no bits left over. In other words, a well-learned way of having really good sex rather than a natural progression of desire.

I had always felt a little treacherous for thinking that. I never considered that treachery would come from her.

So, I had been looking at the wrong page in the cheating partner catalogue. I had imagined her with a big, fine-looking, flashy guy with an enormous nob. Not a little fucking yapping terrier with a sense of self-importance only slightly bigger than his belly.

Over two years then, since the foul-mouthed old lecher had hoisted that belly up onto her naked body and prodded at her with his cock. For a moment I wondered whether he was better at it than me, or