The King's Head was an old coaching inn adjacent to the village green. Besides the impressive front entrance framed by Corinthian pillars, an arched gateway large enough for a carriage and horses gave access to the central courtyard with stables on two sides. The original inn sign was a painting of King Charles II and was said to be over two hundred years old, but it had grown very dilapidated over the years and had been replaced by a modern version, which was rather garish in my opinion.

Sadly, the brewery had done very little to modernise the premises, and it had been steadily losing trade to a modern pub on the outskirts of the village. At the time Sir George came to the village, the inn had been sold, and by the time of these events, was a thriving and popular amenity once more. A modernisation programme glad been carried out without losing the distinctive character of the building, and as well as the main bar with its open fire and secluded alcoves, there was now a fine restaurant.

Gillian was sitting in a small alcove when I arrived, sipping a glass of white wine. Once I had introduced myself, I went to the bar where I bought another glass of wine for her and a pint of bitter for myself.

I really didn't know how to start, and since I couldn't think of anything better I started by saying how nice and cosy the inn was these days, and how I thought the new owners had done a really good job.

"Didn't you know," Gillian said, somewhat to my surprise, "Sir George bought the inn — he really fancies the idea of being a king, even if such a small kingdom as the village. But you would be very surprised if you knew what went on behind that door," and she gestured to a door to the left of the bar with a notice saying "Private" above it. "The inn is just a respectable front," she continued, "but that door is the entrance to an adult sex club, and at the end of a short corridor there is a reception desk with a larger than life picture of George wearing nothing but a crown and being given a blow job by Angela — "giving the king head" he calls it. He thinks that is very funny. Half the parishioners are members if I'm not mistaken, and I guess that Sonia has slept with most of them. Sorry to give you such unpleasant news, but I thought it was only fair that you knew what a slut your wife has become."

That put a bit of a dampener on the evening, but I proceeded to tell Gillian that I would be divorcing Sonia, and that I had put the house on the market. "As soon as I have made a sale," I said, "I will be moving to London, and I hope to buy a small apartment near to my office. I have already resigned from the Parish Council, and the sooner I can leave the village the better. There is really nothing to hold me here."

In return, she told me that she had left Sir George's employment with immediate effect that day and that she would be going to live with her parents until she found a new job. "Whatever you might think about him," she said, "Sir George is not a vindictive man, just totally without any moral scruples, and he has given me a year's severance pay, so I will be alright for the time being. He has also given me an excellent reference, so I should have no difficulty in finding something suitable."

After that, there was very little else to say, and once we had finished our drinks, we said goodbye, promising to keep in touch, although that was merely out of politeness.

ooOoo

Two years later I was living in London in a nice part of Chelsea. This was before the property boom took off and I had managed to find a nice apartment in a quiet mews near to the Royal Hospital. This was a few months after the financial crash of 2008, and I had learned from the newspapers that Sir George had been badly affected and was being sought by the Financial Services Authority for possible fraud and tax evasion.

Since our divorce, I had totally lost contact with Sonia, although I had written to her parents to express my sorrow at what had happened. Her mother had written a very gracious letter in reply, saying that she didn't blame me at all, and that she was not at all surprised. She went on that she had always known her daughter was a person of loose morals but had hoped that her marriage to me would have changed her for the better.

I was walking down New Bond Street late one afternoon when by chance I literally bumped into Gillian again. My mind was on a particularly difficult negotiation that I was involved in and I was not really looking where I was going when I collided with a young lady leaving the front door of an office building and knocked her bag out of her hand. I bent to pick it up for her, hurriedly offering an apology for my clumsiness, but when I stood up to give it to her, she just smiled sweetly and said "Hello Paul, how are you these days?"

Rather flustered, I stammered a greeting and was about to continue on my way when she put her hand on my arm and asked whether I had time for a drink for old time's sake.

Well, a drink became a meal and we parted with a promise to meet again the next day after work. I had not really paid much attention to Gillian's appearance before as I had been too preoccupied with my marital breakdown, but I now realised for the first time that she was a very attractive young woman, with a nice smile and sparkling blue eyes, and a lovely musical laugh. After two years of bachelor life when I had devoted all my efforts to my career, I was ready for pleasant female company, and I suppose, ripe to fall in love. Fortunately for me, Gillian was the right person for me, quite different in character from my former wife.

To our mutual surprise and joy, we found conversation very easy, and over the following weeks, we discovered that we had a great deal in common, including a love of opera and the theatre. A couple of months after our meeting I saw that there was a new English National Opera production of Puccini's La Bohéme at the Coliseum, directed by Jonathan Miller, who was returning to the ENO after a break of twelve years, and with the renowned young tenor Alfie Boe as Rudolfo. This promised to be a very exciting and much sought after production, and after pulling a few strings managed to get two tickets in the Dress Circle.

After the show, we had an excellent meal in an Italian restaurant in St Martin's Lane, only a stone's throw from the theatre, and afterwards it seemed quite natural to invite Gillian back to my apartment to discuss the production and to compare it to others we had seen. To be quite honest, I was also growing more than a little in love with Gillian and the breath of fresh air she brought into my life, and hoped that perhaps we might become more than just good friends one day.

As we entered my apartment I could feel myself getting both anxious and yet yearning for a closeness with this wonderful woman. However, even after two years I was still feeling very bruised and was afraid of being rebuffed if I made a move to take things beyond pleasant companionship. So I opened a bottle of wine and put on a well-known recording of La Bohéme from my large collection of CDs and records. Time passed very quickly as we talked about the performance that evening and other operas that we liked, and by the time we finished the bottle of wine it was well after two in the morning.

"Just look at the time," I said, "you really can't go home at this hour; you must have my bed and I will get a couple of blankets and sleep on the settee."

To my utter surprise Gillian took the initiative, and in a stroke solved a lot of my problems, by turning and putting her arms around my neck and giving me a small kiss on the lips. "Don't be silly Paul, I have had a wonderful time, as I have had every day since we met again. But it really is time that we took this to the next level if there is to be one."

I was so relieved and happy that I just held her closer to me and kissed her with a fervour that surprised me. I couldn't have been more delighted that Gillian had been the first to speak of what I had been unable to express. I guess Sonia had been right about me being an old fuddy-duddy. But no longer, not now, nor ever again.

Gillian is a woman with everything I had ever wanted in a true partner and friend and the physical attraction that had been simmering for weeks came to the boil and swept away all my hesitancy. Running my hands down her back until I reached her bottom, I squeezed and massaged the soft roundness of her cheeks and pulled her even closer to me. She moaned into my open mouth as we continued to kiss passionately, and pushed back against my now very hard member.

I couldn't wait and started unzipping her dress and when she manoeuvred to get her arms free and moved her bra straps off her shoulders with the dress, I became unable to think of anything but the joy of having her in my arms. I turned her around and unfastened her bra and let it slide forward off her arms and pushed her dress to allow it to fall to the floor with the bra.

I turned Gillian around and just held her at arm's length so I could take in the beauty of her lovely body — softly swelling breasts with perfect nipples tapering down to a narrow waist above full rounded hips barely covered by little panties, and finally long shapely legs in thigh high stockings and dainty feet in sexy high heeled shoes. She was moving her hips back and forth and side to side in a tiny circling motion as she stared into my eyes with a longing and desire that I couldn't believe was for me.

Pulling her to me again, I started to kiss her face and neck, and grasping her breasts gently in my hands I asked her if she was prepared for this step which would change things between us irrevocably. She said nothing but just nodded to show she was more than ready.

I led her into my bedroom and sat her on the bed while I undressed. Never for a moment taking my eyes off her face and body, I was amazingly calm in unbuttoning my clothes and ridding myself of them in a very short time. Then going over and pushing her gently back on the bed, I placed my hands on the top of her stockings and started rolling them down her legs, removing her shoes and slipping the stockings off her feet. I couldn't help but look with tremulous desire at the lovely and inviting mound beneath those little panties.

Running my hands up the inside of her thighs lightly but with gentle pressure I was impatient to get this woman naked so that no part of her was hidden from my gaze. When I reached her treasure I shifted to her hips and started pulling her panties down her long legs, down and down, slowly, oh so slowly. Gillian was making little noises and her breathing was shallow with anticipation, her body tense and trembling at the same time.

"Paul, oh Paul, please Paul, I have been waiting for this and wanting you so much..."

When she was completely naked, I reached over with my body almost touching hers, and kissed her deeply on the lips, our tongues touching and entwining in mutual passion. My hands now holding and caressing her breasts and nipples, I began to shower little kisses on her throat and down to her breasts making her whimper and sigh with pleasure. Urgent now to possess her most intimate treasure I ran my hands down across the swell of her tummy and as I approached my goal she started moving her hips up to meet my hand, urging me to give her relief from her need. I spread her swelling lips apart like the petals of a flower and felt inside to find that she was already slick with her juices. With barely any resistance my index finger then slipped inside her warm velvety sheath and the gasp and deep loud moan she uttered told me without words that Gillian was eager to abandon herself to me without any more delay in the act of ultimate possession and love.

I could hardly keep myself from just pushing my cock into her, but used first one finger and then two, I found her g-spot and caressed and stimulated it, whilst I rubbed her erect clitoris with my thumb.

I could feel the muscles of her vagina rippling and gripping me as she moved to the rhythm of my fingers, and soon she groaned "Mmmmmm, oh Paul! Yes, yes, YES!" There was no doubt of her high state of arousal and in a short time, Gillian came for the first time, writhing and crying out in ecstasy.

The feeling of pleasure and love that came over me at that time! To be able to bring this lovely and wonderful woman to a climax overwhelmed me. This was not at all like the frenzied and lascivious fucking to which my former wife had seemed addicted, and the acts of degrading depravity which she craved. There was a sweetness and joy in our coupling that went beyond the physical, and in these moments of ecstasy there was a coming together of minds and souls as well as the carnal union of our bodies.

Moving Gillian to the centre of the bed, I climbed up and spread her legs with her knees up and her heavenly opening wide and shining with moisture, and I finally pushed deep into her with my hard cock with a single slow thrust until every part of me was enfolded in her warmth. The way her pussy gripped me as her arms tightened around my back, and her hips arching up to meet my thrusts ... I was entering paradise. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster, and deeper and deeper, I totally abandoned myself to all but the joy of completely possessing this woman. The sensations in my body went beyond the merely exquisite into realms of delight I had never experienced before, and when I felt I could hold off no longer I reached between us and pressed on her little bud and moved my fingers over and over it until she screamed out and climaxed with such force that I had no way to stop myself from releasing deep into her, giving her all that I had, filling her with seemingly endless streams of my essence. Ecstasy, rapture, and bliss seem inadequate to describe the overwhelming feelings of our mutual orgasms. We truly flew among the stars that evening, a journey that we have taken many times since.

ooOoo

To say that my life took a wonderful turn on the day I met Gillian again is an understatement. Within a few months, we had agreed that there was nothing keeping us from marrying and sharing our lives. My small apartment was far too small for our needs, especially when the first of our two baby girls arrived in the world to enrich and delight our lives. We moved back to the country in a small village about twenty-five miles from London on one of the main commuter railway lines into the capital, but far away from my former home. The only thing I have always been sorry about was that I didn't meet Gillian before Sonia. My humiliation and pain could have been avoided, for now, my life is complete, but I did learn one thing from the disaster of my first marriage, and that was to put my wife and family first, before work and politics, and community involvement.

As to what happened to Sonia, I have no knowledge for certain, but I did hear that someone looking like her had been seen working in a topless bar in Miami — I only hope that she has found some sort of contentment and peace. Looking back on our twelve years of married life, I have sometimes wondered about our inability to start a family. I had assumed that it was the result of what Sonia obviously thought of as my under-active libido, but with the birth of mine and Gillian's first daughter, I started to think again.

I dismissed it from my mind because it was no longer important, but a recent conversation with a neighbour of mine awakened my curiosity. Jim and I travelled up to London together, and sometimes if we were on the same train in the evenings we would stop for a quick drink in the local pub on our way home. As is the way with Englishmen, for many months our conversation was limited to the weather and the performance of the England soccer and cricket teams, but eventually, we reached the point where it was no longer impolite to talk about more personal topics, and it was then that I discovered that Jim was a leading scientist with the government Department of Health.

A couple of months ago when I enquired into his current work, he told me that he was helping to draw up new policies regarding sexual health and the prevention of sexually transmitted infections. It was interesting, he said, that many of our assumptions about the importance of the various causes of these infections had been sadly limited and that recent investigations had shown that a bacterium related to one causing eye disease was a major cause of infertility, and that in our major cities, as many as ten percent of teenagers were infected without showing any symptoms. I found that rather enlightening, and wondered if Sonia’s admittedly promiscuous lifestyle before we got married might have been more significant than she realised. I will never know, however, and it is now time to put that episode of my life firmly behind me.