I was almost two hours late for work, my colleges spotted instantly that there was something wrong with me, well something different at least if not wrong. I knew that I was glowing far more than I had ever glowed in my life before. Even the simple act of sitting at my desk reminded me of my early morning foray into a very different world of sex. I had just spent six days suffering with the cramps and other pains caused by my menstruation, which I found to be a trial each and every month and now, here I was suffering almost the same pains, the same cramps, the same dripping from my lower orifice but this time it had been caused by pleasure, and extreme pleasure at that.

All through the day I couldn’t help myself, I kept rubbing my stomach, I had to keep rubbing my stomach, each time I pressed my palm against my lower abdomen I remembered the feelings, I closed my eyes and I could see the whole thing over again. Watching myself that way had been a blast in itself but watching as Woodrow opened up my body, feeling as he almost split me in two, the pain and the pleasure, it was almost unbearable to live those minutes and hours over and over again, knowing that I would never feel anything quite like that ever again.

Each time the phone on my desk rang I almost jumped out of my skin, my body may have been sitting in my typists chair, behind my nasty Formica and chipboard desk, in front of a computer screen that had remained black all day but my mind and my heart were both in a hotel room, in a small village, just five miles from the back of beyond. When my cell-phone rang I jumped even higher, Harry, my husband, was the only person I would have expected to ring me on my cell-phone during the day. I checked the screen, I didn’t recognise the number I saw flashing out at me. “Hello!” “Hi, Tracey”, just two words but it conjured up a whole colourful mosaic in my mind, I instantly saw a huge grin of brilliant white teeth, hands that were both immensely powerful and at the same time gentle. “You there?” “Hi Woodrow, how unexpected, how did you get my number?” “Well little girl, or should I say not so little girl today. I stole it from your phone while you took your shower!” Woodrow was calling to see if I was OK, he told me to make sure and check to see that any fluid that was leaking out was clear, any signs of blood and I had to get to A&E immediately, he had been talking about me to a friend of his from the JH club and he reminded him that there could be complications caused by a woman’s first time. “You told someone that you did that to me, I thought you were more of a gentleman that that Woodrow!” “Baby girl, we always tell each other everything, the whole point of the JH club is to let everyone know there may be a new ‘camp follower’ out there”. I so wanted to ask what the hell the JH club was but I knew that I had to hang up the phone and then turn it off for the rest of the day, just to make a point to Woodrow that he had overstepped the bounds.

I dialled a number on my desk phone almost absentmindedly, “Hi!” I recognised Sandy’s cheery voice, “Hi it’s me Tracey”, “Hi Tracey, I didn’t expect this call, I thought that you would forget all about us now that you have a job ‘down south’!” “No, I have just been a bit rushed off of my feet, that’s all”, “Dell has been missing you like crazy”, “Has he? Sandy, I phoned to ask if you have ever heard of a club called the JH club?” “No, never come across that one”, I thought for a few moments, I wanted to go into every detail of the mornings entertainment with Sandy and then it hit me, I had known Sandy for less than a month and I wanted to tell her everything, not so much to brag but to share with someone before I burst. Woodrow had probably known his friend for years and he had done exactly what I would have just done, that is before I had just acted so petulantly to him. “You still there Tracey?” “Sorry, I got a bit distracted, just wondered if you had ever come across that club that’s all, we’ll have to get together at the weekend for a drink if you have a spare five minutes!” I hung up the phone, I felt strangely confused, now I wanted to turn my phone back on, wanted to use the recent call facility on my cell-phone to get Woodrow’s number and call him back to apologise, but there was still a part of me that was shocked and embarrassed to find out that men are as big gossips as women.

I managed to leave my cell-phone switched off until five o’clock, I only switched it back on as I placed it in the hands-free cradle in my car. I had driven less than five miles when it rang, I recognised Woodrow’s number as it flashed onto the screen, the phone was set to auto-answer so I had no choice but to talk to him. “Hi baby, we got cut off earlier”, “Yes sorry, I was in an open plan office and there were too many ears around”. We talked about nothing at all for over an hour, I was most of the way home and because I had been chattering to Woodrow the whole way it made the journey seem to go past in a flash. “I’m almost home now Woodrow”, “Call me Woody”, I giggled, “Would that be a descriptive noun”, I said and Woody dissolved into fits of laughter. I told Woody that I had arrived at home, even though I was a mile or so from it and told him that he couldn’t ring me again, “Can I call you on your way to work?” “OK, but not until after seven o’clock”. I drove the last mile home with the phone turned off. Harry was waiting for me when I got home, he had been trying my mobile for almost an hour and he got a busy signal all the time, I told him that I had my phone turned off all day but that didn’t cut any ice with him, he knew a busy signal when he heard one.

I made my own supper, Harry had been trying to call me to see if I wanted him to wait until I got home to eat but as he couldn’t contact me he had decided to eat alone. ‘Petulant child’ ran through my mind, his plate was still warm in the kitchen when I got home, so he would have only had to wait a few more minutes for me and we could have eaten together.

I heard the house phone ring, I froze, what if Woodrow had searched through the list in my address book and found the entry for home, that could be him phoning me now. I ‘cocked an ear’ to listen to what Harry was saying, he was telling someone that I was busy, he couldn’t call me to the phone but he would take a message, I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the word Sandy, it was Sandy calling not Woody, perhaps to organise that drink at the weekend. I washed all the pots, Harry’s and my own and then joined him in the living room, “Who was on the phone?” “Wrong number”, I had distinctly heard him say Sandy and that I was busy and couldn’t be disturbed, well I certainly was disturbed now. Harry went to the toilet a short while later and I dialled one four seven one, to get the number of the last person to call our phone, it was Sandy’s number. Harry came back into the living room and I went to the bathroom, I took my cell-phone with me and while my bath was running I called Sandy.

Sandy had been talking to a friend of hers in London who had heard of a club called the JH club but she didn’t believe it really existed but there was an email address that she had been given if I wanted to try to contact them which was ‘jh_club_london@yahoo.co.uk’. Rumour had it that the club had been set up as a support group for men who were particularly well endowed but who had difficulty finding lovers who could satisfy them totally. “I wouldn’t thing that a man with an above average sized cock would have any difficulty in finding partners willing to try!” I quipped, “Well yes, I mean, Size isn’t everything and all that but imagine if you were a man who had a monster of a weapon and you could only find women who, although willing, could only take half or less, how frustrated would you be?” Was Sandy’s reply, my hand went instantly to my own belly and I closed my eyes to relive that mornings sexual encounter, “Mmmmmmm, yes”, I said. I used the notepad facility on my cell-phone to store the email address that Sandy had given me, I wasn’t sure if i would want to contact the club, that was if it existed at all. Before I let Sandy go I asked her if she had phoned me before and left a message for me with Harry, “Yes a few times” was her response, “Thanks Sandy, I’ll remember that drink at the weekend, catch you soon”.

As I soaked in my bath I played things over in my mind, I was far from the perfect wife, and getting further away all the time but that still didn’t excuse Harry vetting who I could talk to and who I couldn’t. Harry had proved himself not to be the perfect husband as well, I didn’t know if he had been playing away from home as I had been for the past few weeks but I believed that what he was doing to me was actually worse, mental cruelty rather than physical cruelty.

Harry was in bed waiting for me when I finished my bath, he obviously expected sex from me as it was a few days since my period had finished, the time of my monthly cycle where he felt it was safest to have sex with me and not risk my falling pregnant, even though his treatment to turn off his sperm production was almost at an end and he was almost totally safe himself. I’m not usually vindictive but as Harry made his move I told him that I had a headache and turned my back to him. If Harry had been woody I think I would have felt a hot snake of man flesh probing me from behind, if Harry had been more like Dell I think I would have felt soft caresses of loving fingers at my temple trying to sooth away my pain. Harry “Harrumphed” and turned his back to me, the word ‘petulant’ kept running through my mind over and over again.

Breakfast was a fast affair, I managed to shower, make coffee and toast, eat the one and drink the other and was walking out of the front door as Harry walked down the stairs, I waited for a kiss at the door but Harry waked straight past and into the kitchen, “Bye then!” I shouted, I heard no response; I didn’t expect to, I closed the door as gently as possible so as not to break the spell. I checked my watch, six forty-five, I would just about reach the motorway by seven o’clock, I would turn my phone on at one minute to seven and I expected to hear the ring tone at exactly seven.

I switched the phone on at two minutes to seven; I was dropping down the slip road leading from the A 52 to the roundabout that formed the midway point between the A52 and the M1. As soon as I reached the Motorway I would need most of my whits about me, I wouldn’t be able to turn the phone on so easily. “Good morning baby”, I was concentrating so much that I missed the ringing of the phone completely; it was a good thing that the phone was set to auto-answer. I checked my clock before I responded, exactly seven o’clock, “Hi Woody, how did you sleep?” “I missed you, did you miss me?” “No not one bit!” I lied, “Oh so you let your old man in last night then?” “No!” My response was an automatic reaction, I chastised my self inwardly, there was no reason to tell Woodrow anything about my home life, what my husband and I did or did not do together. “So you need a little love this morning then?” “Why you on the motorway between Nottingham and Leicester right now then?” “No, but I could be at Junction fifteen in an hour!” “Well there would be little point, I can’t be late again this week, I would only have five minutes at the most so there is no point in either of us getting our hopes up”, I said.

There were a few breaks in the conversation, usually as I went under a bridge or passed from one cell to another that was too busy to handle the extra traffic but basically Woody and I chatted for the whole time that I drove southward, as I left the Motorway ay junction fifteen I noticed a large, powder blue Audi A6, parked in a lay-by just off the motorway slip road. My reactions were a little slow and I almost missed the lay-by altogether, I just managed to squeeze on to the last six feet of safety zone. Woody drove along the lay-by so that he was right behind me. I was fighting furiously to fix my makeup, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone until I got into the office and usually I would fix myself up in the car park just before going in to work. Woody opened my door and helped me out of my car; his kiss was passionate in the extreme, but then so was my response, “Come with me to a hotel for an hour” Woodrow asked me, I checked my watch, I had fifteen minutes to be sitting at my desk, “I can’t be late again, I’m sorry but not this time”. Woodrow kissed me again, “Yes, sure, I understand”, I saw the disappointment in his eyes, he had driven from London to Northampton, fifty miles or more, and after our brief encounter he would have to drive all the way back, I stood a chance of being a few minutes late at most but he would be around ninety minutes late or even more.

I saw disappointment turn into mental triumph across Woodrow’s face, “Tell your husband that you have decided to stop over in Northampton tonight and drive down to London to my flat and spend the night with me”. Woody’s plan was very simple, very appealing and I though a definite case of poetic justice on Harry for his petulance. “Let me think about it and I’ll let you know before five, and don’t phone me while I’m at work either!” I said, we kissed until the last minute possible, my back pressed against the door of my little Vauxhall and I had to quite literally tear my lips away from Woody’s to enable me to get to work on time. If I did agree to go to London to spend the night with Woodrow I would at least know that I would have a real man to share the night with. I could have phoned woody as he drove south to London, I was ninety-nine percent sure that I would be phoning Harry later to tell him the bad news, that I would be stopping over night in a Northampton hotel, but then it wouldn’t do to give too much to Woodrow too quickly, meat that has had time to stew in its own juice all day would be the tenderest meat of all.