Keira looked at the video playing on the screen in front of her, not quite able to believe her eyes. She watched as her head bobbed up and down, a hand holding on to her dark blonde hair, a hard cock going in and out of her mouth.
She saw her hand reach up to cup and stroke his balls. She saw herself look up to make eye contact with him. She saw herself on her knees, party dress gathered around her waist.
She saw his chiselled torso, the sharply defined muscles. She saw his implausibly handsome face. She saw his eyes close as he got close.
She saw the broom cupboard at her tennis club, cleaning materials stacked up on the shelves. Not exactly the most romantic place.
And then she saw a man who was not her husband pull out and cum on her face, and watched herself lick it off her lips before standing up, wiping her face, giving the cock a quick squeeze, and going back out to the party.
Keira had seen enough. This was marriage dynamite.
She dialled the number again. "Ok... I understand. What makes this go away?"
His voice came down the line. "One thing, and only one thing..."
Rewind a month, and Keira had been trying everything she could to get her daughter regular tennis lessons at her local club. The trouble with living in an expensive town in the London commuter belt was that everyone was trying to get their children to do everything, competitive parenting was the term, and it was tiresome.
Her daughter wasn't like that. She chose a thing and then wanted to do it, rather than spending all of her time doing every activity under the sun. But the trouble was that for tennis there was a long waiting list, so long that there was little prospect of her getting a place until she inevitably lost interest in a few years' time. And her daughter needed a place now because that was the route into joining her school's tennis team with her friends.
Keira didn't know what to do. Her husband was next to useless with this sort of thing, claiming that part of the deal with him going out to work and her having given up her own career to stay at home was that she did all of the admin. She wasn't sure that was quite fair, but that was where they were.
When it came to tennis, Keira played several times a week, in fact as far as she could see it was one of the few upsides to being a stay-at-home mum in her forties was that it kept her in good shape and maintained her figure. In fact, she was probably in the best shape she'd been since her early twenties, not that her husband seemed to notice.
Keira tried everything to get her daughter a place, regularly talking to her coach Ben to see what he could do, calling in favours from friends who also played at the club, talking to the club president, but all to no avail. There seemed to be no way to avoid the long waiting list.
Fast forward to the Saturday night, the weekend just before Keira watched the video.
The tennis club summer drinks party... an evening that didn't tend to get exactly wild, but was a good opportunity for people to let their hair down. Keira's husband decided last minute that he was too tired from the week before to go, so Keira went on her own.
She soon got talking to some friends, and one glass of wine followed another. She was, she had to admit, a little drunk, maybe more than a little but certainly not a lot. Keira's husband might get a nice surprise when she got home at this rate.
One friend starting talking about how her son was enjoying the lessons he'd just started, and Keira couldn't quite believe her ears. She'd only signed him up a couple of months before and he was already starting, having skipped the list. She was furious, but hid it well while they talked.
Taking another friend to the side later, she asked her, "How on earth did they jump the list? I've been trying so hard to get my daughter into lessons."
Her friend replied enigmatically, "I've heard there are ways..."
"Ways? How do you mean?"
"I mean," and she mimed a blowjob motion, "there are ways..."
Keira paused, then looked at her in curiosity. "You didn't, did you?"
"No! Of course not. But, well, I've heard a rumour that some do and not just from one person."
Keira turned away to get another drink, her mind reeling. That seemed really unfair.
The first opportunity she got though she sought out Ben, asking if she could talk to him in private. They stepped outside where, in the twilight, a few people had gone out for fresh air but there was the opportunity to talk without being overheard.
"Ben... look, I don't mean to put you on the spot but you know I've been really trying to get my daughter doing tennis lessons."
He smiled. "Yes, I know. Look... my hands are tied; the club operates a strict waiting list and there's no way around it."
"I know that, but how come some people are jumping the list. I've had one person tonight tell me that their son got in after just a couple of months. What gives?"
Ben looked slightly awkward, but simply replied, "I'd need to look into that... I'm not sure what might have happened there."
Keira looked at him in exasperation. "I've heard that there are ways..." she said quietly.
Ben just looked at her, a look that was impossible to read.
Later, Keira would blame this moment on the drink. Without thinking, she blurted out, "What if I suck your cock?"
He looked at her for a few moments, then simply nodded his head. "That would work."
That would work? It seemed such a casual response. "Really? I mean really, genuinely?" she replied.
He nodded again. "Yes. Look... you're beautiful. I look forward to our coaching sessions every week. Of course I'd love you to do that." Keira could tell that he'd been drinking quite a bit too, the way he was opening up.
