Ordeal

This story is heavily interracial but after some heart searching, I decided that it belonged marginally more in the Loving Wives category than it did in Interracial Love.

*****

I suffered possibly severe concussion together with undoubted traumatic stress and, as a result, a large portion of this tale consists of snapshots and short video sequences, separated by periods of time about which I can remember nothing. These memory gaps are a blessing in disguise as, during those missing hours, I must have undergone extreme mental torment. The first of these scenes sees me standing alone outside my house, with a heavy holdall in each hand and unknowingly experiencing the last truly happy moments of my life.

Claire and I had just got home from an eight day adventure holiday. Claire is my partner of seven years, (living together for two years, married for five). We met in our final year at teacher training and moved in together when we graduated. I'm pretty ordinary to look at, just under average height with the wiry build of a distance runner and my main plusses are a good brain and a keen sense of humour. In contrast Claire is rather special by any standards. It might help give a good picture of her if I mention that at the age of nineteen (three years before we met) she worked as a photographic model. Many TV adverts and pictures in glossy magazines feature exotic locations with bikini clad eye candy in the background - well Claire was paid silly amounts of money for being there.

When she told me of this six month episode in her past, I asked incredulously why the hell she'd given up a fabulous job like that. "It's very simple," she said, "It was a cattle market, the money was great and I got to see some fantastic places but every time you were expected to put out to secure the contract - and even on location the shoot director, the cameramen and old uncle Tom Cobley all had some reason why you ought to be nice to them. Believe me, when not in front of the camera, most models spend their time high on cocaine and lying on their backs with legs in the air. I'm not a prude but if I had sex, I wanted it to be with a guy I fancied, not because it was the expected thing to do. In that industry youth rules and most models have ten years at the most. A very lucky few catch rich husbands but far more burn out on the drugs and the remainder end up either in escort work or doing porn. I knew I had the intelligence to have a career that would last all my life - so I quit and went to college instead."

Another little anecdote might help round out the picture of her. One day, when we'd been married about a year, I asked how a gorgeous creature like her ever managed to end up with a frog like me. The remark was intended as flattery but Clair answered seriously saying, "I'll admit that there are guys out there who are packaged a lot better than you but under the lid they're all pretty shallow. I'm crazy about you for your intelligence and because you're the man you are."

Our seven years teaching had seen us both rise to head a department at different schools and decent salaries (helped by a fortuitous legacy) enabled us to buy a large modern detached house in a nice rural location with the garden backing on to extensive woodland. When the six week summer holidays arrived, we planned to start with an action filled week away, then spend a month working on the house and garden and finish off with a relaxing seven day break in some warm historic location with nice beaches. We both like running and hiking through the countryside and consider ourselves very fit, (I've taken part in three half marathons and finished respectably high in the rankings each time), so the idea of an adventure holiday had a lot of appeal. Trouble was that the only thing available for our time slot was in an 18 to 30 brochure and it specified singles only. The write up stated that it would be a mixed party of ten males and ten females with the itinerary comprising a week long series of challenging activities. It was too good to miss so we booked, pretending we were strangers with Claire using her maiden name.

On the Friday afternoon I drove to the specified city and we kissed a fond goodbye before I dropped my wife a couple of streets away from her named hotel and continued on to my own. The detailed instructions said we would be picked up at 6 a.m. on the Saturday morning for transport to the camp and included the specific request that we should not try to identify others from the holiday who may have been placed at the same hotel. I ate and then spent a lonely hour in the bar but it was not until lying in bed that I began to suffer from the unforeseen snag. When booking, we hadn't taken Claire's menstrual cycle into account and it had happened that for the previous four days it had been her period. If I mention that ever since we met we'd always made love on at least four days per week, you'll appreciate that I was already under some strain. When contemplating our week's segregation, we'd reasoned that there had to be some opportunities for fraternisation - in fact the brochure had heavily emphasised that there would be. Lying in bed that night feeling more than a little deprived, I could only hope that the chance to sneak away together came pretty damn soon.

At 7 a.m. the following morning. on what promised to be a blazing hot day,. I only waited outside the hotel for less than five minutes before being picked up by a people carrier already containing two male passengers. We collected another couple of guys and then there was a twenty mile ride to the camp. This whole thing must have been planned like a military operation because 4 vehicles in all had collected from at least as many hotels and yet everybody had arrived within a period ten minutes. We disembarked and stood in two loose knit groups, one male one female, each looking curiously across at the other. I quickly spotted Claire and threw her a quick grin but she maintained the pretence of no connection by ignoring me. This rather miffed me because very quickly many tentative smiles were being exchanged between the groups, so she could have easily risked giving me a casual response. It was a bad start and it only got worse from there.

The males were a pretty average bunch except for two guys who seemed a head and shoulders above the rest. Each was 6' 2" or taller and with both their muscular physiques indicated serious weight training. One was dark haired with designer stubble where the other was clean shaven with short cropped startlingly blonde hair. I was later to find they were called Rory and Kirk respectively and were destined to engage in a friendly rivalry throughout the week. All the girls had quite decent figures while their looks varied from plain to very pretty but it was very obvious that Claire was in a class of her own.

Everybody was asked to introduce themselves in turn and then we split up to the two large tents where bedrolls were already arranged radiating out from the centre. Later I found that the rest of the site comprised a unisex toilet block of four cubicles with wash basins opposite and further on two pairs of open fronted shower stalls set facing each other. There was also a roofed area containing a large barbecue rig together with a gas powered cooking range and completing the set-up was a cabin that provided sleeping accommodation for the holiday administrators and visiting activity specialists.

We were told that the first day was devoted to preparing us for what was to come, with the morning activity being an obstacle course. After being given breakfast, we changed into suitable clothes and walked to the course about 200 yards away hidden amongst trees. Instead of a straight run though of the different hazards, each obstacle was tackled separately with everyone else watching as each attempt was made. The first challenge was a six foot wall with the men to go first. Rory and Kirk quickly pushed themselves to the front of the line and then both in turn seemed to simply vault over making it look far easier than it turned out to be. The next three got over with somewhat less facility and then it was my turn. I don't know what I was doing wrong but despite my fitness it took me three tries to even get a grip on the top of the wall and by the time I finally got my legs over and dropped to the other side I had exerted so much effort I would have preferred to pack up for the day. I was already more than a little ashamed of myself. Because of generally shorter stature the girls were allowed to work in pairs helping each other and by the time I'd rested watching lots of gaping tops and flailing bare legs I was feeling far more cheerful.

I acquitted myself reasonably well climbing up netting, the hanging ride across a ravine and a couple of other obstacles but failed to really shine at any. In contrast, both Rory and Kirk succeeded at everything as if they had been born to it. Then came the ladder. This was fixed horizontally about ten feet above the earth with twenty rungs exposed, with the task being to travel hand over hand from one end to the other. It goes without saying that Rory and Kirk displayed perfect coordination, swarming quickly across with the agility of monkeys, six other guys also made it to the other end as did half of the females. I just couldn't get the knack and dropped ignominiously to the ground while attempting the third rung. It was humiliating that everyone else in the party did far better than I.

I should have mentioned that the camp was situated on the side of a decent sized lake. Getting back all hot and sticky from the obstacles, we were told we could cool off in the water and this suggestion was greeted with great enthusiasm. I too was eager but, although not a compulsive smoker, the way I was feeling I was gagging for a cigarette so I gave that need priority. The first two to plunge in were girls down to bra and panties followed by some guy wearing Y-fronts but others stripped down to the buff and soon skinny-dipping was the order of the day.

Within minutes, as I watched I could no longer identify Claire due to the crowd of male heads surrounding her. As stated, I had intended to swim but the general nakedness put me off - I do believe that my penis reacts more adversely to cool water than most men and after the humiliation of the morning having no desire to expose myself to further ridicule I opted for a quick shower instead. There was a short jetty leading out into deeper water and when I got back to my watching point there was a steady stream emerging from the water to run along the jetty and either dive or bomb back in. Both Rory and Kirk were keen to display their prowess as this skill too and I couldn't help noticing that, although not huge, both men's sexual endowments were significantly larger than average.

I sat growing more and more demoralised watching my wife happily frolic with her many admirers. The final straw came when Rory and Kirk moved into shallower water, each with a naked female on his shoulders, (one of which had to be Claire), and engaged in some kind of mock battle while the others shouted encouragement. Thankfully when that ended, Claire was the first to leave the water, snatching up her discarded garments to stride purposefully towards the female tent with gorgeous round breasts gently bobbing, nipples pointing proudly forward and glistening droplets of water clinging precariously to her sparse pubic hairs. As she approached my position I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice as I remarked, "That looked like lots of fun."

"It was fantastic, you should've come in," she said unsympathetically, heading on without a pause.

Lunch was eaten at a treadle table with narrow benches on either side that seemed to almost magically appear and while consuming the welcome sustenance we watched a string of ten kayaks being towed up and tied to the jetty. The afternoon was devoted to training in Kayak handling and learning how to recover from difficulty. We were split into to two random groups swapping over when one group had been instructed, this followed by each group having an hour for free-form paddling out on the lake. Claire was in the other group to me but even when she was out of sight I wasn't unduly concerned as there was little opportunity for physical contact. I managed to perform quite well and did enjoy the activity.

After the evening meal everyone split into different small groups around the various park benches that were conveniently dotted around. Two or three couples already started meandering into the woods, either wandering off with exaggerated nonchalance or boldly holding hands. I did engage in some conversation but my attention was constantly fixed on the small crowd around my wife and although retiring to bed fairly early I still managed to keep an eye on her under the lifted bottom of the tent.

The next day our training was put to good use, with the whole time spent white water kayaking down a river some miles away. There was a packed lunch at midday and everybody got four runs down the mile course, two in the morning and twice more after eating. It was quite exhilarating and there was security knowing that nobody could hit on Claire out of my sight but I felt growing frustration at my own inability to get her alone.

At the end of the evening barbecue, Claire left the main table and wandered quite a way off, to perch where there was room for only one other. This was my chance so I quickly followed. I think this was planned by my wife because she had thrown a rather deliberate glance in my direction. "Thank God," I said, the moment I got close, "Everybody's doing it so let's go somewhere please - do you know how long it is since we had sex, it seems forever and I'm going absolutely crazy. I swear my balls are aching all the time."

"Sorry love, I'd love to but I can't," she told me. "Try and see it from my point of view. All the other girls are panting for a turn with either Kirk or Rory but I've already knocked both of them back along with three of four others. That's done my street cred a whole lot of good but it'll completely ruin it if they catch me making out with you. They've seem to have made me into a kind of leader and I don't want to spoil that. Look love, you did agree that, rather than blow our cover we'd stay apart all week and that's how it's got to be. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you when we get home - think about that. I've got to go they're looking for me."

Knowing that those two confident jocks had both tried and failed was a big boost but I still felt a need to ask what reason she'd given for refusing them. "I said I was engaged," Claire told me but then laughed and added, "Later Susan mentioned that she was engaged as well but thought rules were suspended when you were on holiday and another girl claimed she'd been going steady for years but still didn't think it was much of an adventure holiday if you couldn't have a sexual adventure or two as well." With that my wife was gone back to her new friends but in leaving she destroyed my improved piece of mind by mischievously muttering, "I don't know - perhaps those two have the right idea."

For the next three days we were split into five groups with two males and two females in each. The selection had obviously been made on the basis of ability displayed thus far because, to my distress, Claire and her friend Susan were paired with the two show-offs - but it did help slightly that each set had an activity expert to chaperone the group. I was in group four. The first day was rock climbing (climbing up and abseiling down), the second potholing and the whole of the third day spent horse riding. I actually did very well at all three activities but I rather felt that this didn't make up for my rather ignominious start to the week.

Claire has a very easy smile and when talking she gives the other person such complete attention that they must feel like the only person in the world and I'm sure given many men the erroneous impression they were in with a chance. Now when you have an exceptionally attractive female with a less than macho partner, many predatory males feel emboldened to try their luck and throughout our relationship men have often hit on Claire within my earshot. Sometimes a hostile stare from me is enough to dissuade them and at others I have had to inject myself into their conversation but these occasions always fill me with feelings of jealousy and anxiety. During this holiday those two emotions were ever present - I'd never before felt that way for such a sustained length of time.

During the evenings after both the climbing and potholing I did join in conversations but only after positioning myself where I had my wife in sight. She never gave any cause for suspicion but the day of the horse riding was different. It had again been very warm so after the evening meal I stretched out in the shade, situated where I could maintain my vigil but unfortunately I fell asleep. When I woke after about an hour Claire was nowhere to be seen and a quick head count showed that three males were also missing along with a pair of other females - these included Kirk, Rory and Susan.

In a panic I ran round the camp site searching. I checked the toilet block, behind the log cabin, amongst the nearby trees and down by the lake - I even stuck my head inside the female tent. I had no success in finding her and another circuit produced the same result. With no other option I sat down to wait with pounding heart. Images of Claire out there somewhere fucking one of the studs (or even both of them) began flickering through my brain like a triple X pornographic video and soon, even had I wanted to search again I couldn't, due to an erection that was so stiff it would have made it almost impossible to walk.

After about half an hour the other couple emerged from the trees with arms wrapped round each other but then another slow hour passed without further activity until Claire and Susan appeared, each carrying bowls heaped with fruit that proved to be wild raspberries. My heart leapt at the sight of my wife but still remained heavy because I was convinced that the fruit gathering was just a cover and that the two tall males would soon be walking down the same path, a tactful distance behind. I was wrong. A little over half an hour later as it was beginning to grow dark, Rory and Kirk appeared, each in a kayak, skimming easily in from out on the water to loudly brag how they had slipped away to grab a quick pint at the pub on the other side of the lake.

By general request, Thursday was a repeat of the white water experience and Friday morning we all played a hectic game of paint ball. The afternoon was spent packing and tidying the camp and then we were bussed to an old hotel where a fabulous medieval banquet had been arranged for the evening. There were ten double rooms to share. We were told that occupancy could be mixed pairs and no fewer than eight couples took this option - after seven nights of roughing it all wanted to take full advantage of a soft bed. I opted to share with a male and thankfully my wife didn't. The next morning we were back in people carriers being ferried back to our original pick-up points.

I retrieved my car and picked up Claire at the agreed spot. In the car she threw her arms round me and smothered me in kisses, saying, "God I've missed you," - this rather belying the impression she had given all week. It was rather a long embrace oblivious to the stares of passers by. I was too overcome for words and we were a mile or so down the road before I was able to ask how she'd enjoyed the holiday. "It was fantastic," she said but then looked sideways at me to say, "You didn't enjoy it much did you? Don't think I didn't notice you watching. You really a very silly man - don't you know by now that I'm not the sort of girl to mess around?"