After the incident at the party we were both heavily into our finals – me struggling to pass, Josh to get a First – and everything else took rather a back seat.

We got married the day after graduation – nothing grand, just a few weeping close relatives.

House prices were rising fast at the time so we scraped together every penny we could for the deposit on a little two bedroomed flat in Gloucestershire. Josh signed up as an Army dentist - they had sponsored him through college - and I got a job with a Building Society analysing house price movements – the best I could find with my scraped third.

We ordered some velvet curtains for the floor to ceiling window in our living room, but when they arrived they were two inches too short so I rang the shop and the manageress said she'd pop in and have a look at them on her way home from work.

I suspected some old dragon but she was only about nineteen. She had a big round bum and wore crevice hugging jeans and knee length brown boots. Josh was sitting at the table building something electrical as usual and pretended he hadn't noticed. He would have made a good detective: he never seemed to look at anything but he noticed everything and could recall things in amazing detail.

"You see," I said to the girl. "They're at least two inched too short."

"They don't look too bad to me," she said.

"Not too bad! They're miles too short!"

"It doesn't matter if they don't touch the carpet, does it?" she said.

I was getting annoyed. "Of course it matters. We've waited six weeks for these bloody curtains and when they arrive they're too short and all you can say is there's nothing wrong with them?"

She was taken aback by my vehemence and didn't answer.

"Well?" I said as aggressively as I could manage.

"Perhaps they'll stretch when they've been up a bit," she mumbled.

"That is bloody pathetic!" I exploded. "You're service is bloody awful, you never return our phone calls, the curtains, which weren't exactly cheap, are too short, too short," I shouted, "and now you're trying to say they'll stretch! It's bloody disgraceful!"

The girl's chin began to quiver, she was fighting back the tears. "I'll get someone to come and collect them tomorrow and get them altered," she said without looking at me.

I suddenly felt sorry for her, but before I could make amends she had practically bolted for the door and was gone.

I closed the front door behind her, feeling terribly guilty, and went back into the living room. Josh was standing up. He was looking at me with that certain fiery look in his eyes.

"I see you noticed her arse then," I said rather huffily.

"No, it wasn't that," he said.

I looked at him. "What then?" I was intrigued.

"It was you, reducing her to tears."

"Josh? You mean it turned you on?"

"Oh yes," he said. He came over to me and held me at arms length. "It was… you were… magnificent. But why did you let her off the hook, just when you had her?"

"What, I should have reduced her to a quivering jelly, should I?"

"Oh God, yes!" he said and he held me tight against him. It was just like that time at the party.

"You funny old thing," I said. I rubbed his cock. "Can I, er, be of any assistance?"

"Suck me," he said desperately.

I dropped to my knees and undid his trousers. His cock was thick and twitching and already leaking excitement juice as I took it into my mouth and pushed it into every corner of my welcoming gob. Then Josh pulled his cock out of my mouth and held it with his hand and started to wank himself.

"Do it all the way, Josh," I said. "Will you Josh? And come all over my face?" I cupped his balls in my hand and looked sweetly up at him.

Josh grunted in reply and went to work.

"I want to see your spunk come out of there, Josh, come out of there and squirt on me, on my face and in my mouth, on my face and in my mouth, Josh, come on baby, come on."

And come all over me he did. Great big thick jets of it everywhere. In my hair, on my face, all down my front. Wonderful!

"Maybe they'll be wrong when they come back," Josh said optimistically as he pulled my knickers down.

"Hmm, so I can beat her to a pulp for you?" I said as he entered me.

"That's right," he said.

"We'll see," I said settling back to enjoy a good fuck.

"Know what?" Josh mused. "You and I are going to get along just fine, just fine."

I think he had realised something about me that I did not yet know myself.

A spotty youth came next day to collect the curtains and a fortnight later delivered them back to us.

He offered to help me put them up, but we'd only done a couple of hooks when it became obvious the curtains were not right, in fact they were now four inches too short. All I could do was laugh.

The youth was all for taking them away but I insisted he help me finish putting them up – there was no way the manageress was going to believe this unless she saw it for herself. I made the youth ring the shop, but the manageress wasn't there. She rang back later saying she was away from the shop today but she'd come in tomorrow evening and have a look at them. There was a certain amount of trepidation in her voice.

When Josh got in he was delighted. "I hope you're going to give her a hard time," he said.

"I'll do what I can," I said, "But I'm not sure I can just turn it on and off like that."

"I'll wear the baggy trousers anyway, just in case," he said.

She arrived the next evening wearing the same tight jeans and the same brown boots. That pleased Josh.

As soon as I showed her the curtains we both burst out laughing. I flashed Josh a 'sorry' glance. He raised his eyes heavenward and shook his head.

She measured the gap. "Yes," she said. "Four inches too short. I don't understand it. I sent them back with a note saying two inches too short and they've made them even shorter."

"Two inches too short?" I said slowly.

"Yes, that's right."

"And they shortened them by two inches."

"Oh no," she said. "They read it as two inches to short - 't' 'o' short – to shorten. I don't believe it."

"What a complete load of drongoes your firm are," I said. "It's pathetic, absolutely pathetic."

She was very contrite and promised to get a completely new set made – express.

She measured up afresh just to make sure.

"Would you like some tea?" I offered.

"Please," she said.

"I don't even know your name," I said.

"Jennie," she said

She sat down and filled in a new order form. When I got back with the coffee Josh was trying to make small talk with her – not one of his strong points.

I handed her the cup and saucer but as she was about to take it I withdrew it very slightly so that she didn't quite get hold of it and the cup and saucer fell to the floor and bounced sending tea everywhere.

"I'm so sorry," she said, and she was on the floor dabbing at it with tissues before you could say spilt milk.

"I'll get a cloth," I said. Josh didn't move.

I came back with some warm soapy water in the washing up bowl, fully intending to do it myself, but she took the bowl away from me and was down on all fours again scrubbing away at the carpet.

Now I don't know what made me do it, but her stupid fat arse was just too much of an invitation, bobbing and wiggling away down there as she scrubbed back and forth. It positively seemed to invite it. I raised my hand and slapped her right buttock, really quite hard, regretting it immediately.

Jennie froze. She stopped scrubbing and stayed motionless for several seconds, except that her head rose as if she were about to give me what for, but she said nothing.

"I'm terribly sorry," I said. "I just don't know what came over me!"

Please click here for Chapter 2 continued...

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