A big thank you to the best editor in the world, Randi. So talented, and helpful. Thank you for the hard work... Editing my scribble is hard work, so I say thank you, as should anyone reading this. It would be terrible without it.
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My heart beat frantically, my hands tangled tightly in her hair as my orgasm rushed towards me like a jet plane rushing, exploding out of dark clouds. "Oh god, don't stop." My voice shaky, trembling, my body no better.
I was about to come; there was no holding back. It started deep in the depths of my tummy, tingles, little electric shocks causing my vagina to convulse wildly. I could feel it pulsing, clutching wildly at her dipping tongue.
God, it felt like my pussy was on fire, I had never experienced anything like it. My thighs were coated in sticky secretions. Arousal and desire filled my nostrils.
I was about to come all over her face and I wanted it, god, I wanted it so badly.
How had my life changed so much?
Life seemed much simpler before I met Chanel. She was a force of nature, more powerful than a cyclone.
Times were easier, pre-Channel. My husband Ryan and my little daughter Bronwyn, or Bronny as we called her, lived a quiet life, an enjoyable life. It was peaceful, full of love and laughter. It wasn't all her fault, my life was in turmoil before her arrival.
Everything changed for me when, Ryan, took that bloody job in Australia. I remember that fateful day, it was etched, burned into my memory. The day my world was turned upside down, inside out.
"Honey, I want to talk," he said to me in his soft gentle voice. Normally, I loved talking with Ryan; he was warm and loving, we shared everything, or at least I thought we did.
That day, I felt an edge to his voice, if only I knew then what I know now.
Bronny was in bed, we were sitting at the table and I sensed from the moment he got home from work that there was something he wanted to talk about. He was so fidgety, his usual calm and easy-going demeanour; replaced with an urgent edgy pleading quality. He was definitely anxious, uneasy.
"Okay, babe. What's the problem?" I said, nervousness gripping me.
I watched as his hand slid across the table to grasp mine. His grip was tight, tense. Oh god this was going to be bad. "Are you ill... Oh no, it's not your parents is it?" I gushed.
He shook his head, a thin smile tweaked at the corners of his mouth. "No, Hon, it's nothing like that."
"Then what is it? You're scaring me." I blurted out.
Taking a deep breath, he mumbled, "I have been offered a job."
I felt everything go soft. Is that all, I thought. "Yes." I mumbled tremulously.
"Hon, I have been talking with Steve; he's an old mate who works in Aussie. He stunned me when he said how much he's earning."
"Aussie? How much?" I asked.
"Nearly one hundred and fifty grand a year."
My anxiety returned with a rush, my heart pounded, my mind suddenly mush. "Shit, are you saying you want us to move over there?" I was in meltdown, this came out of the blue. "Shit, we have only just started to make headway here, the salon, the house."
He shook his head slowly. "No, god no." His hand gripped tighter. "He suggested I try doing it fly in, fly out. It would mean being away for four weeks and home for one."
I could see the worry lines on his face as he gave me his news. "Do you think you could handle having me gone for that long?"
I tried not to let him know that I was actually devastated. "If it's what you want to do, I will support it, but I will not lie. I will struggle, and I know I will. Bronny is going to be broken-arsed, as well."
He nodded. "Yeah, I know Hon, I wouldn't even consider it, but imagine the money. God, if we could do it for two years we would be set for life."
I sighed. "Yes, I get it babe, but money isn't everything."
"I know that, but just think about it, Hon; just two years and if we invest wisely we could both retire early."
"Ryan, if this is something you want then I am prepared to give it a try. I'm not convinced, though. I mean, do you think we can make it work? What if it doesn't work out? You can stop, can't you?"
He nodded. "Hon, we need to be honest with each other. If you don't like it or want me to stop, then just say so. At any point, if you find it's too much, then I will pull the plug." He gave me what I thought was a pleading look. "What say we tried, six months? If at the end of the six months it's not working for us, then I'll toss it in."
I sensed his desire, ambition, it bordered on desperation. "Yeah, all right. I like the six month thing. I think we can do six months."
"Thanks, Lou. It'll be awesome, I reckon. Once we get into the swing of it, the time will fly by. Think of the money, Sweetheart."
"Yeah, of course. When were you thinking about starting?" I replied sheepishly. I wasn't really on board. I was already dreading it.
"I have to give one months notice, so it gives me a month to get shit sorted here. Are you up for it? I mean be honest, Hon. Don't bullshit me."
"I said I am up for it." I lied. I had never seen this level of excitement from him, the desperation was so apparent. He would despise me if I refused him.
So that was it. Ryan went mad around the house making sure all the maintenance was up to scratch. He got the cars serviced, a man on a mission.
The day he flew out for his first stint I felt the full weight of what we were undertaking. At home that night I put Bronny to bed, tidied up, did laundry and sat down in front of the television. Mum came around for a visit, which was nice. I was in bed early, tossing and turning when Ryan rang to tell me he had arrived at site and to tell me he loved me.
By the third week I was going stir crazy. I tried to stay busy, visit Mum and Dad. Work was my saviour. We had only had the salon for about eight months. My girlfriends all tried to help out, as well. They circled the wagons, like friends do. They came around for girls nights, drinks and laughs. The problem was, my select little group of girlfriends were all married, had young families of their own. The visits slowed, and it was back to just Bronny and me. There was no hiding from it, I was lonely and boredom set in. I was so damn bored.
I had never masturbated much when I was younger, but now after being married and having an active sex life, I was horny and alone. Ryan called regularly, which was nice. I loved hearing his voice. He laughed when I blurted out. "Babe, I'm horny."
"Shit, Hon, you're not the only one. I am beating off like a teenager," he replied urgently. "I'm scared it's going to fall off."
Sighing guiltily, I mumbled. "Ryan, babe, lately sex is all I can think about."
"I'll be home soon sweetheart. We can make up for it then.
His first visit home was amazing. We made love every minute we could find time alone. It was difficult because Bronny missed her Dad as much as I did.
The day before he flew out, he wandered in from doing some shopping with a package. Wrapped in brown paper I started to rip it open the moment he gave it to me. Bronny screeched. "Oh what is it mummy? Is it something special?"
Ryan grabbed my hand before I had the wrapping shredded. "Hon, perhaps you might open this when you're alone." He kept flicking his eyes towards Bronny. "When you're alone, okay?"
I blushed, realising what it might be. "Oh god, you're joking right?"
He shook his head. "Nope, I thought it might help with your little problem."
"What is it, Mummy, can I see?"
Ryan picked her up. "Pumpkin, it's a special present just for mummy, Okay?"
She sighed sadly. "Couldn't I just have a little look?"
"No, sweetheart, it's not for little girls."
Dropping Ryan at the airport was again heartbreaking. I was barely out of the airport before the sense of loneliness started to settle over me.
Ryan buying me the vibrator annoyed me. Did he really think I wanted some plastic replacement? What I wanted was him. Masturbation only goes so far; yes the sexual desires eased, but it didn't help my real problem, which was I felt completely alone, abandoned.
I couldn't take much more, so after the fourth month, I tackled Ryan. "Babe, I know I said I was up for this, but I can't do it. I want you home. I'm sick of this life."
He couldn't hide his exasperated sigh. "Sweetheart, we said six months. We agreed, remember? I was hoping to stretch it to a year. Could you just stick it out for another year? Please, we are doing so well. Think about it. In a year, our mortgage will be gone, we will be free and clear."
I could see the urgent seriousness in his eyes, his pleading voice hesitant.
"God, why are we doing this Ryan? I mean, what's the use of having money in the bank if we have to live apart and Bronny never sees her father? Where's the sense in it?"
"It's our future, you know when I was an apprentice I worked with some older guys, they are still doing it, working. They were over 65 and still working because they couldn't afford to retire."
"I know, but come on, how much do we really need? God, we are only in our thirties, we still have time."
"Don't you see, this is the time to do it, while we are young enough. I don't want to be one of them old guys, working till they drop. I want us to have a good life." He seemed so angry, so intense.
"Ryan, you said that if I didn't like this, you would stop. That was our agreement."
With a rather anxious glare, I added, "I have been trying to tell you, I don't like this. I want my husband home with us. I need you in my bed, and Bronny needs her father."
"Okay, okay, okay." He snapped curtly, his frustration flowing over. "Forget the year, just give me six months, then we can reassess. I hate being away from my family, just as much as you hate me being away."