Edited Out

There is no graphic sex in this story and no bitches get burned. If that's what you are looking for then don't waste time reading the story. My thanks go to Black Rand who gave the story a once over for me. I have changed it a little since then so any mistakes are mine not his.


*


Mark smiled as he walked across the car park towards me. I slipped off my driving shoes and reached over for my heels. He opened the door. I put my shoes down on the tarmac, swung my legs around and slipped my feet into the heeled shoes.


'Now that's the bonus for playing the gentleman. I get to watch you do that. There is something sexy about the way a lady in a tight skirt gets out of a car.'


He held his hand out to me and helped me up.


'You find something sexy in everything a woman does.'


'Not every woman, just you.'


He held me tight and kissed my neck.


'Hmm, you smell fantastic. Did you have any trouble getting away? I know you said Harry is working from home.'


'Yes, he is. He didn't want me to leave. He thinks I'm in London and he's worried about me catching COVID. He's such a dear.'


Harry never liked me travelling, but he knew the way things were done in the publishing business. Recently, his protests had become more emphatic. I think all the publicity around Coronavirus was getting to him. This time, he all but begged me to stay home. I'd make it up to him when I get home.


Mark pulled my case out of the boot. As we walked to the hotel entrance, he put his arm around my shoulders.


'So good old Harry is minding the kids while I have a good time with his wife.'


I slapped his chest.


'Don't say that; you make it sound like we are taking advantage of him.'


'Well, it's not really taking advantage. I mean Harry wants you to be happy, right? And I make you happy, don't I?'


'Of course, you do.'


'Well, there you are then; we are just making sure Harry gets what he wants.'


Yes, it was a joke, but it made me think. Harry is a great guy and he does always try to make me happy. When I first started my own business, he stuck at the teaching job that he hated while working as an editor in the little spare time he had. Now that he is editing full time he handles the childcare for Emma and Andrew, allowing me to concentrate on building my business. He's a good husband: kind, thoughtful and an excellent father, always there for them when they need him. He attends all the school functions so that I can get out to see my publishers and authors. It's just the excitement that is missing: the excitement I got from sneaking away to see Mark, but even that was starting to fade.


*****


I met Mark at the London Book Fair. I was there supporting one of my authors who was hosting his first-ever workshop when this handsome man walked up and said, 'I know you, you're Isobel Roberts. Read this and we can discuss it over dinner.'


He placed a large wad of paper on the table next to me.


I couldn't believe how forceful he was. My first reaction would have been to tell him to go to hell, but when I looked into those piercing blue eyes, my resistance crumbled.


'I'm staying at the Corinthia. Pick me up at seven, I'll be able to let you know if it's any good by then.'


Of course, we talked about everything but his book over dinner. Both of us drank more than was good for us and Mark spent the night with me. Looking back on it, I can't imagine what came over me; it was like an escape from my life as a wife and mother and going back to the days when I was young, free and single. I did things with Mark that Harry and I had never done. I can't explain it, but acting like a whore didn't seem to fit with my role in the family. When I got home I felt ashamed, but no one else seemed to notice the difference. After a few days, I could push it to the back of my mind and pretend it never happened.


It was a week before Mark called me to ask what I thought of his manuscript, the manuscript that I still had not read. When I started to prevaricate, he said that he quite understood and suggested we meet up again to discuss it. I knew that I shouldn't do it. Going out with him the first time was a mistake, but this time I knew exactly what would happen, and it did.


It seems strange, but the more often you get away with something the less wrong it seems. Before long we found time for each other on a regular basis. The more often we met, the more normal it became. We moved on from fucking each other's brains out all the time to spending time together like a real couple. We went to art galleries and museums, which Mark claimed was vital research.


I found this hotel when Harry and I were first married. It was built on the side of a canal as a pub for bargees back in the days when canals were the main form of goods transport. Since then, it has been developed into a very pleasant country hotel. Before the children came along we would come here as an escape from the world. We would stroll, hand in hand, along the canal towpath to a delightful pub and restaurant, then walk back after dinner. I hadn't experienced those sort of romantic moments for ten years. Now I was living them again, but this time with Mark.


The subject of his book came up less and less often, we both knew the real reason we were meeting up. More out of guilt than anything else, I spent a weekend reading through it and wished I hadn't. The plot was full of holes and the writing dull. It seemed like he had difficulty focussing on the main storyline. No publisher was going to thank me for offering them such an awful piece.


That left me with a problem: after such a long time I couldn't just hand it back with a list of things to fix. Mark thought I was offering it to publishers. I did the only thing I could do, I passed it to Harry and asked him to do his best to make it saleable. Harry, being the dear that he is, said he would fit it in between his paying work. That meant that I could tell Mark it had been handed to an editor who would sharpen it up making his good book better.


*****


'You don't think Harry suspects anything, do you?'


'No, why would he? I make sure he gets what he wants in the bedroom. We probably do it more than most couples who have been together as long as we have. We don't have many arguments. To be honest, I can't be bothered enough to argue with him. I just agree and then do what I want, anyway. What about you; does Portia suspect anything?'


'No, this is just another essential research trip for my next book.'


We walked, hand in hand, to our room. Once inside, Mark pulled me to him and kissed me with a passion that I only got from him. In minutes we were both naked. His kisses moved down my neck and on to my nipples. As he suckled there I could feel my juices rise, my head went back and I let out an ecstatic sigh.


'Take me,' I whispered. 'Take me now.'


Mark swept me up in his arms and set me down on the bed. He laid down beside me and started kissing his way down to my sex. I held his head and turned him to face me.


'Just fuck me, I've been looking forward to this for weeks. I need you inside me and I need it now.'


I wouldn't say that Mark is better than Harry, but he was certainly different. Where Harry was always trying to please me, Mark took what he wanted and that excited me. It was that excitement that kept me coming back for more. The fact that it was forbidden fruit made that excitement so much greater. With no children around I could be more vocal, which always heightened my orgasms


Being younger, Mark was able to recover much quicker than Harry. After making love we would lie on our backs for a few minutes, then I would take him in my mouth and suck him back into action. Mark, of course, loved that. I looked him in the eye as I sucked him, watching for the movement that told me he was ready. The second time I would always ride him cowgirl style so that I could make sure he hit all the right spots.


By five, we were both sated and ready to eat. We showered, dressed, then took a leisurely walk along the towpath to the pub for dinner. The pub was situated in a village owned by the National Trust. It's what some people call a chocolate box village, full of thatched cottages which made the sort of scenes you used to see on boxes of chocolates. Nothing had changed in a hundred years, and the old shops provided space for local artisans to sell their wares. The pub provided good quality food sourced from local farms. Harry and I always loved it, Mark was not so keen, but I knew that he wasn't there for the food.


I drank a little too much wine and found myself giggling at almost everything Mark said. Even when he started talking about Harry as the cuckold at home, putting the children to bed while he bedded Harry's wife, I didn't protest. When we got back to the hotel, the receptionist called us over.


'Mr Macauley, could we have a word?'


Mark got a worried look on his face as we approached the reception desk. Karen, the receptionist, didn't look too happy either.


'I'm sorry, sir but we can't honour the whole of your booking... I'm sure you are aware of the COVID-19 situation, Well, on the news tonight the Prime Minister announced a full lockdown. Starting at midnight tomorrow, all hotels, pubs and restaurants must close. I'm afraid we must ask you to leave tomorrow.'


'No! you can't do that. I booked for two days and you accepted it.'


'I'm afraid we can, sir. Indeed it would be against the law if we failed to do so.'


Mark was furious. He tried to argue with the poor girl but got nowhere. In the end, she told him to take it up with the Prime Minister and walked away. He was still angry when we reached our room. He dragged me into the room, holding my arm so tightly that it hurt. I stumbled into the room and grabbed the desk chair to steady myself. As I did so, Mark pushed me down and yanked up my dress. He pulled my hands back and held my hands behind my back so that I couldn't get up.


'Stop it, Mark, you're hurting me.'


'Not so funny now, am I? I saw you laughing at me while that bitch downstairs was telling us to leave. She walks away from me and you stand there grinning like a Cheshire cat.'


'I wasn't laughing at you, it was the situation. Argh, that hurts.'


Mark had forced his dick into me and started pounding away. As part of lovemaking, it might have been a pleasant experience, but there was no love in what Mark was doing to me. With no foreplay, I was still dry and every stroke hurt me. It was a blessed relief when he ejaculated giving me some lubrication. He released his hold on my wrists as he fell forward on top of me. I eased myself out from under him and ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind me.


I sat on the toilet and cried. This was a side of Mark I hadn't seen before. I saw the door handle move and the door shook but didn't open. After a short pause, he began tapping on the door.


'Isobel, let me in, we need to talk.'


'I've got nothing to say to you. You hurt me.' I looked at the red marks left by his fingers when he grabbed my arm. 'And I'll have bruises to prove it.'


'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get angry. If that bitch downstairs had been reasonable it would never have happened.'


'She was doing her job. It was you who was being unreasonable.'


'I'm sorry, you're right. It's just that we get so little chance to be together I got angry when it was cut short. You know how much I love you. It will never happen again. Please, let's talk without this bloody door in the way.'


I knew I'd have to let him in sooner or later, but at that moment I needed time to get myself together.


'I need to get cleaned up first, but if you hurt me again I'm calling the police.'


'Yes, of course, but don't worry; it won't happen again.'


If I hadn't already had too much to drink, I'd have left him there, but as it was I needed somewhere to sleep it off. I had to pacify him and make the most of his guilt. I washed my face and fixed my make up. In the mirror, I could see that my eyes were still red from crying, but that was something I couldn't fix.


I opened the door, to find him sitting on the bed. He got up and came towards me. I instinctively backed away.


'Oh my God, you're frightened of me. Please, don't be, I'll keep my distance if that's what you want?'


He backed away and sat in the chair by the door.


'Right now that's exactly what I want,' I said as I rubbed my arm where he had grabbed me. I sat on the bed and leaned against the headboard.


'Go on then, explain yourself.'


He sat in the chair looking down at the floor and wringing his hands.


'Look, I'm very sorry, I don't know what came over me. It must have been the booze. That girl seemed so bloody pleased that our little getaway had been ruined, I just lost it.'


'And I saw it as funny that we were both working so hard to keep it from our spouses, but in the end, it was the government who stopped us.'


I rubbed my arm which was still red.


'I'm so sorry, what can I do to make it up to you?'


'Well, you could start by finding that poor girl from reception and apologizing for your behaviour.'


'If that's what it takes,' he said, as he got up from the chair and opened the door. 'I'll go and find her now. You're right, it wasn't her fault and I was unreasonable.'


As soon as he closed the door I went to my bag and dug out my "emergency" big knickers and full-length nightdress. By the time Mark came back I was already in bed, watching the late-night news.


'That's it, all smoothed over.'


'Good, now take a shower and come to bed.'


'Perhaps I should come to bed first and take a shower later,' he said with a smile.


'Don't even think about it. I'm much too sore for anything like that, and we'll both need some sleep if we are driving home tomorrow.'


The smile disappeared from his face and he went into the bathroom. I switched off the TV and snuggled down in the bed. When Mark came to bed he tried to cuddle up to me. I cried out in pain as he put his hand on my arm and he soon backed away.


I tried to sleep, but for much of the night, I couldn't get the events of the evening out of my head. I found myself making excuses for him, but each time Harry's voice came into my head telling it like it was. There was one of Harry's sayings that kept coming back. 'Alcohol only removes the inhibitions. It reveals the person's real character.' For the first time, I could see what he meant. I thought about Harry at home looking after the children and realised that I had forgotten to call him. I'd switched off my phone before going out for dinner and had forgotten to switch it back on. What would he think of me? I almost laughed at the irony of it. I'd deliberately left him alone so that I could spend time with my lover, yet now he was all I could think of.


Mark slept like he hadn't a care in the world. While I tossed and turned he lay there snoring. I must have fallen asleep at some point because I woke to the feeling of Mark's dick pressing into my arse and his hand stroking my pussy. I turned onto my back and pushed his hand away.


'You can forget about that, I'm still sore from last night.'


As I looked at him I saw the marks he had left on my arm. Overnight they had changed from red marks to blue bruises and were painful to touch. I ran my hand gently over them.


'How am I going to explain this to Harry? It's so obvious that they are finger marks. I'll be wearing long-sleeved tops for a week, at least.'


Mark stroked my arm and kissed the bruises.


'I'm so sorry, I had no idea I was holding you so tightly.'


'What's done is done and can't be undone. We just have to accept it and move on.'


He lay with his head down beside my arm and looked up at me with sorrowful eyes.


'Does that mean you forgive me?'


'That depends on whether it happens again.'


'It won't, never. I don't know what came over me.'


I ran my hand over my bruised arm.


'Come on we need to get up or our time together will be gone before we know it.'


I half expected him to follow me into the shower, but thankfully, he stayed in bed. I spent a long time in the shower trying to wash the event of the previous evening off me. I found more bruises from the way he'd handled me roughly. They were in places I'd find difficult to explain away. Mark was lying on the bed watching the morning news when I came out of the bathroom.


'What are we going to do through lockdown if all the pubs and hotels are closed? Didn't you say you had a cottage somewhere?'


I sat in front of the mirror and reached for my makeup.


'In Selsey, yes. It's quite a large house really, five bedrooms, three bathrooms with great sea views. It belongs to Harry's parents, but they can't manage the stairs anymore. We use it for holidays and weekends.'


'Couldn't we use that?'


'Have you not understood anything? We're supposed to stay home and only go out to go to work or for food shopping. What am I going to say to Harry? I'm just going out for some shopping darling, I'll be back in a couple of days? Last night they said they expected it to last a month. We'll just have to wait it out.'


'I'm not sure I can wait a whole month for another glimpse of that gorgeous body.'


'Well, you are going to have to. We all have to make sacrifices, you know. Now go and have your shower so we can go down for breakfast'


While Mark shaved and showered I put on my makeup and got dressed in the sort of conservative outfit Harry would expect me to wear to business meetings. I went out into the corridor and tried to call hin, but after a few rings, it went to voicemail. I looked at my watch and realised he was probably doing the school run. I left a message apologizing for not calling the previous night and giving him the good news that I would be home early.


Mark dressed and we went down for breakfast where everyone was talking about the lockdown and how they were going to manage. I told Mark that I wanted to make the most of our time together.


'How about we finish packing and check out of here, Then we could leave our luggage in our cars and walk to the village for lunch and walk around the village to watch the artisans at work?'


'If that's what you want.'


'It is. I'm in no hurry to go back to my humdrum life. Let's put it off for a few more hours.'


That's what we did. By eleven, we had checked out and put our luggage in our respective cars. Mark took my hand and we made our way to the towpath. Once we reached the canal I let go of his hand and slipped my arm around his waist. I pulled him close and looked up at him. He looked down at me and stopped. He turned, took me in his arms and kissed me. I joined in the passion. as his tongue pushed between my lips I brought my hands up to his chest.


'Wow,' he said as he released his hold on me. 'Looks like you really have forgiven me.'


'Not on your life, I haven't,' I said as I pushed him away with all the strength I could muster.


His eyes opened wide and his mouth dropped open as he staggered backwards. He stepped back, trying to avoid falling, but the only thing beneath his foot was the edge of the canal bank. The edge crumbled and he started to fall. It was like watching something in slow motion as he tipped backwards with his arms flailing as he tried to regain his balance. His body hit the murky water, sending waves out and over the canal bank. I watched him go under and it seemed like an eternity before he surfaced again. I looked down at him struggling in the water.


'You seriously think I could ever forgive what you did? Well think again, I never want to see or hear from you again. Have you got that?'


'I can't swim.'


I stepped turned and took a lifebelt from its stand on the other side of the towpath. I turned to look back at him.


'I asked if you've got that.'


'Yes, yes I've got it now throw me the fucking belt.'