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lowblow emma
Star
- Joined
- Sep 21, 2013
- Location
- London
I felt like I was walking up a narrow path across a cliff face.
‘Michael, we need to talk.’
I said it as calmly as I could. This was supposed to be a romantic weekend break, the first time we had decided the kids were old enough to be left on their own, but it had gone wrong on the first night. At twenty-two minutes to midnight to be exact. Except that my husband was pretending that nothing had happened, that nothing was wrong.
He looked up from the breakfast tray perched on his lap in the king size bed, his hair still damp from his shower.
‘What about?’
He was so casual it was like he was asking a patient why they had come to consult him. I didn’t have the time or the inclination to play games. The edge of the path was closer now.
‘You know perfectly well what about, Michael. Alice is what we have to talk about. Who is she?’
Michael finished chewing his toast and looked at me in puzzlement. He was good, I’d got to admit it. He had to be as a doctor I suppose, keeping a honest expression while he tells a terminally ill patient that there is nothing to worry about.
‘What do you mean, Emma? She’s our daughter. What do we have to talk about?’
I lost it.
‘Don’t fuck me about, Michael. I’m not talking about our daughter, I’m talking about your mistress. How long have you been seeing her?’
He placed the tray to one side and put on a patronising look that he probably used on patients who didn’t really have anything wrong but were convinced they did and he was concealing it from them.
‘What’s got into you, Emma? I don’t have a mistress, never have, never wanted one, you’ll all I want or need. Now, sit down and tell me what this is about.’
I could have hit him. The edge of the path was only inches away now.
‘You ask what this is all about? We were making love last night and then, just as I was about to orgasm, you cried out “Alice”. I’m sure you’ll agree that calls for an explanation, Michael. In the heat of your passion, you called out another woman’s name. And all you can do is pretend you were thinking about our daughter. Get real, Michael. Tell me who she is.’
Another step took me to the very edge of the path, but Michael just smiled innocently.
‘It’s nothing, Emma, honestly. She just reminds me of you, that’s all.’
I was peering over the edge of the path, dizzy from the height.
‘Are you seriously telling me that our daughter reminds you of me when we are making love? Do you really expect me to believe that?’
He pushed the covers aside, climbed out of the bed and moved towards me. I backed away.
‘Emma, she reminds me of you. She looks just like you looked when we first met. The same long black hair, the same long legs. Those small tits with dark red nipples. Even her pert little ass.’
He leered at me, his eyes trying to see behind me. My ass wasn’t pert any more. My toes were poking over the edge of the path.
‘Michael, you’ve been watching her naked. How could you? She’s your daughter.’
I backed further away and pulled my robe closer around me.
‘No, not like that, not all at once, but we share a house remember. She wanders around half dressed. I see glimpses into her bedroom or when she’s not shut the bathroom door properly. Come on, you have too.’
My stomach churns as my toes feel only air beneath them.
‘Michael, you haven’t ,,,, couldn’t …, tell me you’ve not …’
I was teetering on the edge. I struggled to find a right word and get it out.
‘You’ve not touched her, have you?’
He stared at me, his face pale.
‘For God’s sake, Emma, how could you ever think such a thing? She’s my daughter.’
I struggled for air. My mind was a kaleidoscope of images, all them of born of nightmares. One deep breath to steady myself and to say what had to be said as calmly as I could.
‘Michael, I don’t think you should live with us anymore. Not now, anyway, maybe later, perhaps after some counselling or therapy.’
He slumped onto the bed and stared at me in horror.
‘You’re not serious, Emma. I’m a doctor. When word gets around that I’m having that sort of therapy, I’ll lose my practice.’
For a second, I felt sorrow and some compassion for this man who I had loved.
‘Sorry, Michael, I have my daughter to think about. She has to be protected, whatever the personal cost for you.’
I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t what happened. He turned on me, snarling in my face, spittle flying as he spat out the words.
‘And what about our son? Who’s going to protect Tom from you? I’ve seen you watching him, your eyes undressing him as he walks around. Remember our holiday last year, when he got that erection in his swimming trunks? You couldn’t take your eyes off it. You can’t keep your hands off him either. Any excuse and you pretend to smooth his clothes or brush off some fluff or something. What’s going on in your mind when we fuck? Maybe that’s what needs to be explored. Maybe all these accusations are just your way of covering up your own erotic feelings for Tom.’
I stripped off my robe and started to throw things into a suitcase.
‘Get dressed, Michael. We’re going home right now and when we get there you can pack some things and move out. I can’t risk you being near Alice or spreading poison about my natural maternal feelings for my son.’
He started to move towards me, his arms outstretched.
‘Get away’ I screamed, ‘don’t touch me. Get off.’
I was struggling to keep my balance and stay on the path.
He checked out while I waited in the car. The drive home was fast and frosty. Neither of us spoke, although my mind was busy with the practicalities. Changing the locks, a court order to prevent him seeing the children, another to make sure he didn’t cut off financial support. There was a lot to do and I had to move fast, before he stopped my cards and emptied the joint accounts. And then I’d need to get a counsellor for Alice, to try to find out exactly what had been going on with her father.
As we walked into the house together for the last time, I heard noises, laughter and giggling. As we climbed the stairs, it was clear they were coming from our bedroom. I pushed open the door and there, on the bed, cavorting and naked, were Alice and Tom.
Tom was the first to recover. Kneeling sideways to us with his erection in Alice’s mouth, he remarked casually.
‘Hi, mum, we weren’t expecting you back so soon.’
Alice pulled her head up and turned towards us, her pert breasts and dark red nipples prominently displayed.
‘Hi, dad. Why don’t you and mom join us?’
The whole cliff face gave way and I fell through the air.
‘Michael, we need to talk.’
I said it as calmly as I could. This was supposed to be a romantic weekend break, the first time we had decided the kids were old enough to be left on their own, but it had gone wrong on the first night. At twenty-two minutes to midnight to be exact. Except that my husband was pretending that nothing had happened, that nothing was wrong.
He looked up from the breakfast tray perched on his lap in the king size bed, his hair still damp from his shower.
‘What about?’
He was so casual it was like he was asking a patient why they had come to consult him. I didn’t have the time or the inclination to play games. The edge of the path was closer now.
‘You know perfectly well what about, Michael. Alice is what we have to talk about. Who is she?’
Michael finished chewing his toast and looked at me in puzzlement. He was good, I’d got to admit it. He had to be as a doctor I suppose, keeping a honest expression while he tells a terminally ill patient that there is nothing to worry about.
‘What do you mean, Emma? She’s our daughter. What do we have to talk about?’
I lost it.
‘Don’t fuck me about, Michael. I’m not talking about our daughter, I’m talking about your mistress. How long have you been seeing her?’
He placed the tray to one side and put on a patronising look that he probably used on patients who didn’t really have anything wrong but were convinced they did and he was concealing it from them.
‘What’s got into you, Emma? I don’t have a mistress, never have, never wanted one, you’ll all I want or need. Now, sit down and tell me what this is about.’
I could have hit him. The edge of the path was only inches away now.
‘You ask what this is all about? We were making love last night and then, just as I was about to orgasm, you cried out “Alice”. I’m sure you’ll agree that calls for an explanation, Michael. In the heat of your passion, you called out another woman’s name. And all you can do is pretend you were thinking about our daughter. Get real, Michael. Tell me who she is.’
Another step took me to the very edge of the path, but Michael just smiled innocently.
‘It’s nothing, Emma, honestly. She just reminds me of you, that’s all.’
I was peering over the edge of the path, dizzy from the height.
‘Are you seriously telling me that our daughter reminds you of me when we are making love? Do you really expect me to believe that?’
He pushed the covers aside, climbed out of the bed and moved towards me. I backed away.
‘Emma, she reminds me of you. She looks just like you looked when we first met. The same long black hair, the same long legs. Those small tits with dark red nipples. Even her pert little ass.’
He leered at me, his eyes trying to see behind me. My ass wasn’t pert any more. My toes were poking over the edge of the path.
‘Michael, you’ve been watching her naked. How could you? She’s your daughter.’
I backed further away and pulled my robe closer around me.
‘No, not like that, not all at once, but we share a house remember. She wanders around half dressed. I see glimpses into her bedroom or when she’s not shut the bathroom door properly. Come on, you have too.’
My stomach churns as my toes feel only air beneath them.
‘Michael, you haven’t ,,,, couldn’t …, tell me you’ve not …’
I was teetering on the edge. I struggled to find a right word and get it out.
‘You’ve not touched her, have you?’
He stared at me, his face pale.
‘For God’s sake, Emma, how could you ever think such a thing? She’s my daughter.’
I struggled for air. My mind was a kaleidoscope of images, all them of born of nightmares. One deep breath to steady myself and to say what had to be said as calmly as I could.
‘Michael, I don’t think you should live with us anymore. Not now, anyway, maybe later, perhaps after some counselling or therapy.’
He slumped onto the bed and stared at me in horror.
‘You’re not serious, Emma. I’m a doctor. When word gets around that I’m having that sort of therapy, I’ll lose my practice.’
For a second, I felt sorrow and some compassion for this man who I had loved.
‘Sorry, Michael, I have my daughter to think about. She has to be protected, whatever the personal cost for you.’
I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t what happened. He turned on me, snarling in my face, spittle flying as he spat out the words.
‘And what about our son? Who’s going to protect Tom from you? I’ve seen you watching him, your eyes undressing him as he walks around. Remember our holiday last year, when he got that erection in his swimming trunks? You couldn’t take your eyes off it. You can’t keep your hands off him either. Any excuse and you pretend to smooth his clothes or brush off some fluff or something. What’s going on in your mind when we fuck? Maybe that’s what needs to be explored. Maybe all these accusations are just your way of covering up your own erotic feelings for Tom.’
I stripped off my robe and started to throw things into a suitcase.
‘Get dressed, Michael. We’re going home right now and when we get there you can pack some things and move out. I can’t risk you being near Alice or spreading poison about my natural maternal feelings for my son.’
He started to move towards me, his arms outstretched.
‘Get away’ I screamed, ‘don’t touch me. Get off.’
I was struggling to keep my balance and stay on the path.
He checked out while I waited in the car. The drive home was fast and frosty. Neither of us spoke, although my mind was busy with the practicalities. Changing the locks, a court order to prevent him seeing the children, another to make sure he didn’t cut off financial support. There was a lot to do and I had to move fast, before he stopped my cards and emptied the joint accounts. And then I’d need to get a counsellor for Alice, to try to find out exactly what had been going on with her father.
As we walked into the house together for the last time, I heard noises, laughter and giggling. As we climbed the stairs, it was clear they were coming from our bedroom. I pushed open the door and there, on the bed, cavorting and naked, were Alice and Tom.
Tom was the first to recover. Kneeling sideways to us with his erection in Alice’s mouth, he remarked casually.
‘Hi, mum, we weren’t expecting you back so soon.’
Alice pulled her head up and turned towards us, her pert breasts and dark red nipples prominently displayed.
‘Hi, dad. Why don’t you and mom join us?’
The whole cliff face gave way and I fell through the air.
