Shmel The Rat

The Shock Video…  On one of my early trips to Anne’s apartment, after we had indulged in a good girly chat over a cup of tea, our conversation gradually got around to Shmel. After relating some of his most recent antics, she suddenly said, quite mischievously that she has some ‘things’ for me to see. Being curious about anything to do with Shmel, I urged her to show them to me quickly.

            She went into her bedroom and came out with a package and some items of clothing that looked like underwear. She teasingly shook out the undergarments which consisted of a skimpy G-string and matching bra and told me that when she was clearing out her house in order to pack for the move she found all of this stuff in the loft along with a video. Cheekily, she laid the items on the table, I pulled a face at the underwear and turned my nose up as I poked the bra with a finger and picked the panties up between my thumb and first finger. I then turned the video over in order to see the title but it didn’t have one. Well, not a real one, it only had a white label with ‘Shmel’ written in pen on the spine.

            Anne was extremely blasé about her little surprise and she seemed to take great pleasure in picking up the video and carrying it across to her player.  She located the video into the slot, but hesitated a moment and looked round at me before pushing it fully into the machine. She continued to look at me while the video was running into the start. Naturally, Anne, had already seen the show, so she was more interested in watching my reaction to the sordid, amateurish sex video made by Shmel, showing him and his middle-aged Austrian mistress-come-girlfriend of the time, having sex. I was quite eager to see the video but as soon as the images appeared on the television screen, I was filled with mixed emotions. I was suddenly shocked, disgusted and horrified. I couldn’t imagine what else I could possibly see or find out about this awful man with whom I was wasting my life.

The Betrayal…    During these, now regular visits to the East End sauna, while I stayed seated in the car, the receptionist would come out to pick up a fresh delivery of clean towels from the boot of the car. These were special, thick towels that were cleaned at a good laundry who made sure they were returned beautifully white, soft and very fluffy. The sauna’s receptionist was a pleasant young girl and when collecting the towels she would always make a point of speaking to me. She would often make some pleasant comment about my hair-do or clothes, she was indeed, very sweet. I like people in general and love to chat so we struck up a relatively friendly relationship always remembering of course, that she was one of my husband’s employees and I was his wife. Nevertheless, this young girl was to be the final straw in the, already, shaky relationship I had with my husband. This would also prove to be the very last visit I made to this sauna, for while my dear rat of a husband was waiting for the builder to appear, this young lady came out to collect the towels as usual and we chatted for so long that it must have given her the confidence to speak out. But I most certainly wasn’t prepared for the revelation she was about to make.

            During our casual conversation I happened to speak of my husband and when I mentioned his name, the young girl suddenly looked at me most puzzled and said, “Tell me; why on earth did you marry this man?” 

            Being rather taken aback by her question, I said, rather defensively, “Well, why does anyone marry anyone? I love him of course.”

            The girl then sighed and looked at me with a sad, much older than her years, expression and lowering her voice said, “Look, I’m sorry if this is going to hurt your feelings but I think you ought to know something about him...”  At that she hesitated…

            “Well, go on; tell me.” I urged…

            The girl took a deep breath then continued saying, “The night before your husband was due to be married, he spent it here with a ‘working’ lady who also does the cleaning to earn a bit of extra money.” 

            While I sat in stunned silence she went on to inform me that my husband also spent every Tuesday afternoon at the sauna and he would take a Latin prostitute to a vacant room where she