The message was short but NOT sweet.

It was designed to intimidate. The cold, controlled voice lingered in the air, long after the message had ended. The voice would be feeling smug and well-satisfied.

“Shy, modest Bethany would be apprehensive for the next three weeks. Pleasant dreams were a thing of the past. The days of restrained, dull sex were over. I know my wife so well. I was satisfied my words would chill, not thrill!”

How fucking wrong can you be?

I stood beside the beast, as I had named my husband’s answering machine.

Oh yes, I was shaking, but it was anger and disgust.

Did you think it would be fear?

Do you think I am the woman he describes?

As we say in Scotland. Aye. Right!

As for my signature perfume.

Chanel no5.

Eh No.

Never has been, but that's always what he buys. Prick!

Earlier I suggested one of my three choices to cure my itch, was David’s return.

I lied.

I do not like my husband, let alone love him!

So why the fuck did you marry him?

Oh, trust me, I've asked myself that a thousand times.

Let's go back in time... but not too far back.

I met David at a convention in the city. Neither of us are from Aberdeen, but in different ways, oil brought us here.

My eyes were drawn to the commanding figure, tall, very good-looking, sharp intense green eyes.

To my discomfort, he returned my stare, with a questioning lift of one eyebrow. Flustered, I turned to my companion and nervously chattered absolute garbage.

I was a good lawyer, in my late twenties, really smart but not very worldly. Of course, I've had boyfriends and lost my virginity at university. Not a story for now. I had grown up in a strict Presbyterian house. University was an escape from the cold, prim atmosphere.

This man wasn't one of those fumbling, inexperienced students. His whole demeanour demanded attention, which he was getting. Especially the female kind. Hero worship!

He oozed, power, brains, sex appeal and something else, was it menace?

I shook my head. How ridiculous was this? I'm not some silly little, virginal schoolgirl!

At that moment though, that's exactly how I felt.

I turned to leave when a hand firmly grasped my shoulder. A shiver or was it a chill, ran through my entire body. Without turning I knew it was HIM.

“David Beattie. I do not believe our paths have crossed before Miss/Mrs?” Those green, searching eyes scanned my left hand for evidence of my marital status. Although, I now know that factor would be of no consequence to him.

I managed, at least I think I managed to regain some sort of composure.

“Bethany Adams, Frazer Legal. “I managed to say it without stuttering. He extended his hand. It lingered. Again, that strange sensation. A slow smile appeared, but somehow it didn't reach his eyes. I felt we were the only two people in the room. I was mesmerised.

“Dinner tonight. Amuse Restaurant. 8 o'clock.

My driver will collect you”.

He didn't wait for my response or ask where I lived. He was gone.

What had just happened? A command not an invitation had just been issued.

Chas, my closest friend, appeared at my side. Her pretty face was uncharacteristically serious.

She had witnessed the bizarre scene. She had not been amongst the doting throng of women vying for David’s attention.

“So, you've met the Infamous Mr Beattie? What did he want?” she hissed quietly.

I explained what had happened.

“You didn't accept? Please tell me you did not agree to have dinner with him!” Concern was etched into her face.

I explained that I didn't get a chance to refuse.

“Beth, I beg you don't go. Yes, he’s sexy, single and loaded, but I've heard whispers. He's not for you.”

I will not enlarge on the next 6 months. I did not heed Chas’s advice. From that day on I was plunged into a world of fine dining, theatre, extravagant gifts, and romance. I didn't stop to think and when a stunning Cartier diamond was placed on the third finger of my left hand, the deal was sealed. I ignored the little niggly doubts and Chas’s words.

He was the perfect gentleman. He never attempted to bed me, stating we would wait till our wedding night. Such respect and love.

When I told Chas, she was speechless. She stressed how abnormal this was. The man oozed sex from every pore in his body. He wasn't the kind to be patient and celibate.

Gradually, without noticing it, David isolated me from Chas, ensuring all my free time was spent on him.

The wedding was approaching. David took care of the details. I had no say. We were to be married on a private island in Lake Garda.

To my dismay, Chas and her husband were not on the guest list. I tried to protest. It was useless. The first stirrings of unease hit me. It was as if I had been in a trance and was slowly emerging.

Then I gave myself a shake. Every bride felt this. Pre-wedding nerves.

At some point, I may share my wedding day and night and the ensuing 18 months, but I doubt it.

But I’ll tell you a secret, after the wedding, I came out of my trance very quickly. I play the role of shy, naive Bethany very well. I stress it is an act. Therefore, my friendship with Chas was permitted. She was charming and polite to David in her role, although we knew he wasn't convinced. We started to plan.

Standing in the hall with his words ringing in my head, I knew that plan would now be needed. BUT... where was Chas?

Please don't let it be just business!

Please let her be finally having hot, steamy sex with the gorgeous Mr. Scott. She certainly wasn't getting any from posh boy Tony.

How did we both end up with these creeps for husbands?

I had 3 weeks to put my plan into action. Meanwhile what to do about the itch??

I headed for the kitchen. Although the house was warm, I was shivering. Reaction to the night’s events. I made a cup of hot, sweet tea and sat in the comfy chair by the oil-filled Aga. The shivering eased. I took out my phone, I knew it was late but not a problem. My mind was made up no more 'shy Beth.'

Three rings and my call was answered.

“Hello Beth. Glad you called. How can I help?”

I replied I was taking up the kind offer and was tomorrow evening too soon?

“That would be perfect. I will email directions. Looking forward to seeing you. Good night”

I smiled, finished my tea and headed to bed. Feeling warm and relaxed and excited.

Tomorrow I would have really good sex, but it would be MY choice not the command of an arrogant, and I suspected sadistic, control freak. If it was rough, it was me who decided.

Oh yes David I would dream tonight... but not of you.

Day dawned. The threat of snow had materialised along with the threatening phone call.

Overnight, the world had been transformed into a sparkling winter wonderland. Somehow, I survived a day at the offices of Frazer Legal. Ploughing my way through corporate Law. Another little lie. I was an expert. I'd kept that hidden from my husband. He thought I dealt with domestic affairs. Nothing too challenging, mainly divorce. Good, let him think that way.

Fortunately, the roads were clear as I drove to my destination in my much-loved VW golf. You thought it would be a top-end car, didn't you?

My golf was pre-David. I refused point-blank to change. Partly, because it infuriated him, it did not fit our image etc, but mainly because it was completely mine and I loved it.

I drove straight from work. I didn't dress specifically for this assignation. No need to be alluring. Sex was guaranteed. I was excited, aroused and smug all at the same time.

I followed the directions and arrived without mishap at Balmeddie. Yes, the home of Steph and Steve. You were not sure, were you?

The beautiful conversion stood alone near the dunes by the North Sea. The countryside is bleak, wild and beautiful as only Scotland can be.

Lights twinkled and smoke rose from the chimney. I knew a warm welcome awaited me.

There, smiling at the door, was the wonderful Steph. She wrapped me in a warm hug and ushered me inside to the warmth of the lounge where a log burner threw out heat and light.

We talked for a while over coffee. I told her about THAT call. She was so angry. I won't repeat what she called him. I then discovered that he was known to her, had tried to become part of her circle, but had firmly but skilfully been denied. Sadistic was the word she used. She and Steve would help me. She had an inkling where to start, but she would not elaborate.

I explained I wasn't sure about the really, open-sharing ways that she and Steve embraced and being part of their circle of discreet, like-minded friends. But never say never. Absolutely no problem. Whether or not I participated was irrelevant. I was now a friend.

The door opened. My date for the evening had arrived.

The Strutting Cockerel. Ken. I DID say it was a good night kiss and not goodbye.

Discreetly Steph left the room. We smiled at each other. We both knew this was just sex, but importantly for me, I liked this man. I now knew his story.

OK, he's still not Mr Nice Guy but...

Last night was a fucking, a spanking and a quick release of lust. This would be different.

We moved together and he began to kiss me. Not with the urgency of last night but slowly, skilfully, teasing and testing. The flames were starting to smoulder. And I do not mean the log burner! Slowly he unbuttoned my shirt and eased it off my shoulders. I started to tremble not with cold but anticipation.

My skirt was unzipped and fell to the floor I stood there in hold-ups and pretty, not erotic, pale blue lingerie. He stepped back and surveyed my body. Lit only by firelight and a single lamp. He smiled, not coldly or calculatedly like David, but with warmth and attraction. This was going to be special.

I mirrored his moves, unbuttoning his shirt and removing it. Then the button and zip of his jeans. He stood in his boxers, already aroused. Socks and footwear quickly followed.

He lowered me onto the rug in front of the flickering log burner. His hands roughened by work were amazingly gentle, not like the hungry, impatient demands of last night. It was tantalising.

He carefully unhooked my bra, cupping and kissing my waiting breasts. Watching his hands caressing my body lit more fires inside which threatened to overwhelm me. These were the hands of a man who worked. David’s hands were smooth and perfectly manicured and had never explored my body so intimately and caressingly.

The panties were slowly eased off and he parted my legs gently.

I felt my breath shortening and desire and need reaching the point of no return.

Then his lips and tongue followed the path his hands had taken.

I took my lead from him and was touching and stroking and tasting this strong male body. The scent of him was intoxicating, was it subtle and faint sandalwood? He certainly hadn't doused himself in expensive cologne in preparation for our evening.

David always smelled like the Duty-free in Aberdeen Airport!

His tongue found my inner core and had me trembling and gasping for air. He then returned to my parted mouth. I could taste myself as he began kissing me again, with more urgency but not force. My hands found his erect penis and instinct took over. I loved the feeling of the power I had at that moment. It was not something I had done with my husband.

Then patience dissolved and sheer desire took over. Bodies bathed in sweat he rolled on top of me and entered my wet, eager pussy. This was different from last night. His thrusts got deeper and more uncontrolled. Like last night we both came together. I felt truly sated... And fucked!

But this was no wham, bam, and thank you mam. He kissed me gently then reached for a nearby throw and covered my trembling body.

He stood up. I gazed at his naked body, which I had just thoroughly explored. He dressed quickly.

Then he gathered me in his arms and lay me on the sofa wrapped in the soft throw.

“Goodnight shy Beth and Thank you. What will next time bring?”

My eyes began to close. I pulled the soft throw tighter and moved the cushions below my head.

I felt something cool and smooth and inspected it.

My scarlet panties had been returned!