I originally started this expecting it to run over 5 or 6 pages but somehow it grew into 72,000+ words and I ended up splitting it into seven parts, mainly for ease of reading. For that reason, I've placed it in Novels and Novellas rather than Romance or Loving Wives, either of which might also have been a suitable genre for it.
Please note all 7 parts are written and will be released to Literotica as and when I finish editing them (hopefully that will be weekly).
I make no apology for the fact that my characters are flawed; they make poor decisions and bad choices but somehow they manage to enjoy a happy ending. That's just how I like them. So, if you prefer your story's a little more sugar coated then perhaps this isn't for you.
Constructive criticism is, as always, welcome but please remember it is just a story, the people don't exist and the situations never happened.
At least not as far as I know.
Please enjoy.
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It's Just Sex - part 5
Getting home just after midnight my first priority, despite the late hour, was a shower. Hurriedly stripping off the previous day's work clothes, I stepped under the hot water trying to rinse every trace of Darren Cunningham off of my skin.
He had demonstrated what an utter bastard he was, validating my concerns about him, and I, more than a little stupidly, had let myself be taken in by his charismatic manner.
I had let him fuck me before I had realised what a chauvinistic pig he was, but then, much to my disgust in myself, I had almost given in to him and done it again.
Soaping myself down I tried to wash the self-loathing I felt away and push my worries out of my mind, at least until Monday.
That's when the enormity of my latest problem really hit me.
I would be going back to work at the start of the week and I would have to face Darren when I arrived in the office.
'How was I going to face him after what I had let him do?'
'Was I becoming a whore?'
'What if Jon found out I had fucked my boss?'
The tears started and for the next fifteen minutes I stood there, shaking uncontrollably, as they ran down my cheeks and mixed with the spray from the showerhead.
Eventually I recovered enough composure to turn the water off and, after drying myself, I slipped on my robe and poured myself a stiff drink before sitting down on the sofa.
Between wondering about Deanna and Selwyn's party the night before and thinking about what I was going to do I was totally lost.
'Had Jon really gone to their party with his new girlfriend Jennifer?'
'If so who had he taken home?'
Forcing myself to calm down I swallowed the remainder of the brandy in my glass and took myself off to bed.
Lying in the dark the tears started again as I tried to face up to the disaster my life had become in a few short months and it was quite a while before I eventually fell asleep.
I woke late on the Saturday morning and, as I lay in bed trying to find some sort of incentive to get up, I considered what I was going to do. It seemed that for the second weekend running I would be spending my time trying to forget my transgressions of the Friday night and focus on what I needed to do to get me through the next 48 hours.
Reluctantly struggling out of bed I headed to the kitchen, via the bathroom, to make myself a coffee.
Flopping down on the sofa I turned on the tv and took a sip from my cup, gazing unseeing at the screen while my mind went back, as always, to the state of my life.
All the old concerns I had were still there but even as they began to plague me again I realised I had another, even more pressing issue to worry about.
'What was I going to do about work and Darren Cunningham?'
'Could I face him on Monday?'
'Should I simply resign from my job?'
Sitting staring at the wall I tried to think about what I could possibly do but, however I looked at the problem, I couldn't see a resolution and I faced going to work on Monday in the same state of confusion I was in now.
'Could I go in and simply ignore him?
'
I needed to find out more about Darren's relationship with Selwyn and what had been said about me.
Finishing my coffee, I thought about calling Deanna, after all it was her husband who had been the one to tell my boss my personal secrets.
Unsure of what might have happened at the swinger's party the previous evening and who she might be with, I decided it might be a little too early to disturb her. So instead, I got dressed and, after sending her a quick text message, I set off for the supermarket to do my weekly grocery shopping.
"Good morning Taylor. How are you?"
I was just locking my front door when the voice of my next-door neighbour startled me.
"Oh, hi Ken. I'm fine." I lied, "How about you?"
"I'm good thanks." The sprightly 60-year-old winked at me, "And now I'm feeling even better for seeing you."
Ken Bartholemew looked amazing for his age and always seemed to be going somewhere or doing something whenever I bumped into him. He had introduced himself to me when I moved in and had then promptly helped me shift my things up from the van I had hired to my new flat.
We had chatted as we worked and when I mentioned I went for a run three or four times a week he asked if I would mind if he joined me. I thought he was just saying it but, much to my amazement, two days later he had been outside the block of flats in the morning, waiting for me. Expecting to have to slow my pace for him I was surprised to find that I was the one trying to keep up.
"Where are you off to today Ken?"
He lifted up the small holdall he was carrying, "Yoga class."
"You do yoga as well as run?"
"Twice a week. Down at the community centre. You should come and join us sometime."
I giggled, "You just want to see me in a leotard."
Grinning he held up his hands in mock submission, "Sorry. Guilty as charged."
"You cheeky sod." I smiled back at him, "You need to find yourself a girlfriend."
"Are you available?" He winked at me again.
"I'm not sure I could keep up with you."
It was nothing more than our usual banter and I thought nothing of it, after all he was older than my father.
Walking out of the building together I said goodbye and then paused to gaze after him as he headed off to his class.
I had put his age at late forties the first time I met him and had genuinely been shocked when he told me he was sixty. I knew how fit he was from the occasional runs we did together but watching him stride away down the street, with his back straight, it was apparent he was a lot fitter than most men half his age.
Shrugging I turned towards my car to drive to the supermarket, feeling a little happier after my brief interaction with him.
Keeping myself occupied I was halfway through my shopping list when my phone pinged.
I'll call round later for a chat?
D xxx
The message was brief and concise but, after confirming when I would be back, I finished my shopping with some hope that I might get some answers to my questions. Whether I liked what they were remained to be seen.
Hurrying through the second half of my shopping expedition I threw my bags in the back of the car and set off home.
Unpacking my groceries and tidying my small apartment I managed to keep myself busy for a few hours as I waited for Deanna to arrive. The clock had just passed 2 p.m. and I was just thinking of calling her to ask when she would be coming when my phone pinged again.
Sorry babe, am a bit tied up. Can we meet at Annabelle's later?
D xxx
Her message left me feeling a little despondent and had me speculating whether her partner from the previous evenings party was still occupying her time. However, I considered it unlikely that that would be the case so now I was becoming rather curious as to what she might be doing.
I thought about it for a few minutes, wondering if she was proposing another girl's night out, before coming to the conclusion that she wasn't and sending back an acceptance. returning to my housekeeping tasks.
Sure hon, see you there at 7.
Returning to my housekeeping tasks I managed to drag out the rest of them out until around five when I made myself something to eat and then took a long soak in the bath.
Laying there, relaxing in the hot water, I once again tried to resolve the host of questions that seemed to continually swirl around in my mind.
'What might Selwyn have said about me?'
'Whatever it was I still had to face Darren on Monday morning?'
'Should I even go back to work?'
Thirty minutes later I sat down in front of my dressing table mirror to put on my make-up, still without any resolutions to my problems.
After brushing a layer of mascara onto my eyelash extensions I applied a bronze eyeshadow and some eyeliner, before spending ten minutes fiddling with my hair and ending up deciding to simply leave it down.
Then it was on to what always seemed to be my biggest problem, what to wear.
I couldn't make my mind up whether Deanna was planning on a girl's night out without telling me or really did just want a quick drink and a chat.
The last thing I wanted, after ending up on the Friday night sleeping with my boss, was to spend the evening fending of the unwanted advances of numerous assorted drunks. However, I wasn't going to go out without making some sort of an effort and looking my best.
Slipping on a lilac bra and matching thong I rolled a pair of black lace-top stockings up my legs and then turned my attention to my dress.
It took me several changes of mind before I settled on my little black dress. Tight fitting with thin shoulder straps, it ended a few inches above the knee while the bodice revealed enough of my cleavage without being so low cut it appeared slutty.
But as soon as I looked in the mirror I came to the conclusion that, whatever the evening turned out to be, my outfit was a little too suggestive.
It was just then that the sound of a car horn outside signalled the arrival of my Uber.
Checking my watch, I realised I didn't have enough time to change so, after grabbing my handbag, I headed out of the door, albeit a little reluctantly, and set off to meet my friend.
I was a little early and I stood outside for a moment before pushing open the door to the wine bar. Inside I looked around the patrons for Deanna and, not seeing her, found a stool at the end of the counter and ordered myself a glass of chardonnay.
Perching on my seat I tugged the hem of my dress down to cover my stocking tops and, feeling rather self-conscious sitting by myself, took out my phone. Keeping my head down and pretending to be texting to avoid any unwanted eye contact I sipped my wine and waited.
"Can I buy you another drink?"
I hadn't been sitting there for more than ten minutes when an older man in a business suit leant on the counter smiling at me and asked.
"No thank you, I'm waiting for my friend."
"Just my luck, the prettiest girl in here is already spoken for."
"Sorry." I gave him a weak smile and, as he turned away, went back to my phone hoping Deanna would turn up soon.
"All alone sweetheart?"
Only a few minutes had passed before someone else decided to try their luck.
"What?"
Twisting around I found myself face-to-face with a young stranger this time.
"Are you ere by yerself?" He repeated his question.
