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We were having breakfast brunch that morning. My wife Sarah and I, and some friends used to go to this little pub all the time, enjoy a long Sunday breakfast before going home to relax and enjoy the last free day of the week. Sarah is quite a stunning girl at first glance. Okay, she's no Heide Klum, but she's about five foot seven, with long golden blonde hair, a slim tight, tanned body and large full firm breasts that always draw the male eye further down than it should. We'd been married for a year, and had been together for three. Since I was only an average Joe-Bloggs type of guy, I was always secretly very jealous of anyone coming anywhere near my Sarah. Not that I needed be up until then, as Sarah always came across as a pretty vanilla type of girl. That day she was wearing very plain clothes, tight blue jeans, sexy black ankle high boots, and a tightish white wooly jumper.

I was alittle hungover from the night before and I think she was a little mad at me, but nothing serious. As we got up to leave it was already two in the afternoon and I really had nothing else planned but to laze on the couch. Outside it was cold and raining, what else was there to do?

We were almost at our car when they appeared, as if out of nowhere.

"Wait! Wait!" they were calling and I saw four young guys around my age coming forward, one holding a camera the other a huge TV mike wrapped in plastic, one just hanging back. "Hold up guys, can we talk to you ...

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