Encounter with wife’s co-worker Sandra True story Part One

I should’ve been angry; I discovered my wife was having regular sex with at least two guys and had been for ages. It perhaps explained a lot of things, but I wasn’t innocent either having had sex with one her coworkers, but that was a one-off moment. Grounds for divorce perhaps and even though things weren’t great I had little option than to go with the flow for the time being.

The weather had gradually got worse as the evening progressed and torrential rain and winds made conditions extremely dangerous and thank goodness our last bus had limped back to the depot, and everybody was safe. Our outstation however advised me a fallen tree had fell across three buses and caused some damage. Well, that would have to wait till the morning.

We spent most of that Saturday tree chopping in the out-station yard and clearing the debris that we stacked at the side of the workshop, it would make good fuel for our heating systems and sawdust for various spillages. The damaged vehicles were inspected that Sunday and required a few windows to be replaced and one a temporary repair to a holed roof, otherwise they were good to go until we could get them in for any body work repairs.

The weather had calmed a little, very light rain and the wind settled to a gentle breeze, but the damage was all too clear. Flooded roads, trees down, debris of all descriptions strewn across the land scape. I headed for home knowing very few buses were running, it was a Sunday so running a reduced timetable in most areas.

Brighton was like a ghost town, very few shops were open and even those were limited opening times. The glass people were however very busy, still boarding up shop fronts and such like and the council appeared to be out in force clearing the roads and streets. Very few people were out, and traffic was almost extinct.

I swung down onto the seafront heading eastwards admiring the debris of deck chairs and a couple of beach huts blown over and two plastic bags that took flight and started swirling around giving me an air display that would give the Red Arrows a good run for their money. I continued cautiously along the front avoiding debris and flood waters the best I could.

I saw her walking at a fast pace, she was 5’6 and looked well fit from behind. She was wearing a beige anorak and jeans, her feet in black hiking boots. She looked back a couple of times as she made good progress. I estimated we would reach the junction at the same, I was only doing 15mph due to the conditions, but I wanted to see this maidens face, she looked young.

I kept an eye on her as I increased speed estimating I would now make my turn just ahead of her and could get a good look at her. I was eyeing her, she was slim, about right for her height. I turned just as she approached the junction. I hadn’t seen the flood sitting in the road camber and hit it full blast sending a torrent of dirty muddy water over the poor girl.

A scream in shock followed by verbal shouts that would embarrass the most hardened of foul mouth people filled my ears and all of it deserved. I pulled over and slid out the driver’s seat. I approached the girl still spewing her venomous tongue and instantly recognised Sandra, from my wife’s work.

Her face red with anger and eyes that could kill. She was pretty, but always a bit rough around the edges with her choice of makeup, often excessive black around her eyes made her look more of a demon and sometimes she had her hair tied up on top of her head giving the impression of an alien antenna and her clothes, old and tatty made her look like a chav.

Her eyes bored into mine and her mouth opened and closed with a lesser tone as she recognised the culprit who tried drowning her. She stood rigid to the spot, water driblets running down her face creating a wetter patch on her tee-shirt that was soaked through. The zipper on her jacket broken and gapped open explaining the reason she caught the full force of my activities. Her jeans were wet too. I apologised quickly accepting everything she accused me of.

She calmed a little accepting my lame apologies then kicked off again as a minibus flew past the junction. That was her bus and explained the looks behind and fast walk, she had been heading for the bus stop just beyond the junction and not turning the corner as I had assumed.

She shouted that was the last bus to her village on a Sunday and now faced a hefty walk. I promised I would give her a lift home; she told me that would be a start but would take more than that.

She was soaked through to her skin she told me as we got in my car. I flicked the heating on full thinking hard. She pulled her anorak off and revealed her black hair up in ponytail, she looked alright with no make on today, but her face showed signs of teenage acne and with her teeth braces a little off putting for some, but I thought that made her appealing.

She strapped herself in saying she was soaking wet and cold. I remembered I had my work bag on the rear seat. I told her I had a clean shirt in my bag, she could put that on if she wanted. I knew there was a mini golf course just five minutes along the road with some toilets, she could change in there. She found my shirt as I pulled onto the car park and stopped close to the toilet block.

To my surprise she unclipped her seat belt and pulled her tee-shirt off, she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her breasts were there, she didn’t seem bothered I took a good look before looking away. They were small but I reckoned she had a hand full. My cock began to twitch, some time ago I’d seen her camel toe, and she didn’t seem bothered then either. Was she just innocent or a teaser.

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