Chanel Awaens Me From Myself

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."

I could see there was no denying him. "All right, six months, but that's it, then you come home."

He screwed up his face in a tight grimace. His face set in a determined expression. "Six months and we reassess. Come on Hon, once you get past the loneliness, it might get easier, just give it a chance. I promise I'll call every night."

The tension built slowly; it started innocuously. At first he was true to his word, he called every night, but then, they dropped off. I noticed when he did call he was drunk, or at least tipsy.

Even when he was home, he drank a lot. He never used to drink that much, but he drank every night. When I questioned him about it, he said, "Cut it out, Hon, don't nag. Christ, all the other guys have a drink. Bloody hell. It's like forty degrees in the shade over there. It's the only thing that keeps us sane. The camp is in the middle of the bloody desert. Give me a break."

I didn't want to argue; we only got six days together before he flew out again. It destroyed our visit, though. He was grumpy, which made me uncomfortable.

It got worse. He arrived home on Wednesdays and flew back to the bloody mine site the following Wednesday. As I was getting ready to go in to work Saturday morning, he complained bitterly. "You're the boss, Hon, surely you can get somebody else to do the weekends while I'm home. It would be nice if we could maximise our time together?"

"No, I can't, and it wouldn't be an issue if you weren't doing this stupid fly in fly out job. I'm sick of it."

He gave me a rather caustic hiss. "Why not sell the salon; with the money I'm making, we don't need it."

"We will in five months time when you come back, and find a local job."

That was the end of our happy visit. We argued for the rest of his stay. He apologised when I dropped him at the airport, but it didn't really help.

We did make love while he was home, but the intimacy was missing. I knew it was mostly my fault. I held him responsible for my loneliness. Then there was a long run of breakdowns, that just piled misery on top. First it was the washing machine. I had a load in while I dashed to the supermarket.

When Bronny and I got home, she scooted inside while I unloaded the car. She came sprinting out in a fluster. "Mummy, the house is full of water." I was left to deal with the insurance company, then I had to put up with the house turned upside down while the contractors laid new flooring.

Ryan apologised, but it didn't help. I was furious that I was left to deal with everything.

Then the car broke down, Bronny and I were stuck on the motorway. We were stuck in traffic for hours at peak traffic waiting for Dad to come and get us. It just snowballed. I was left frustrated and lonely.

The lawnmower died, the oven packed it in. All the while, I had to take time off from the salon to be there to unlock the house for the never-ending stream of contractors.

It even sounded to me like I was making excuses, and maybe I was, but I was well and truly over this nightmare. Every time Ryan did call, I had another breakdown to gripe about. Every phone call ended in a heated argument and tears. I feared I was having a breakdown. Mum and Dad noticed, and they both tried to be around more, but they had their own lives to lead. They both worked full time.

It was Dad who said, "Sweetheart, this experiment isn't working. I have never seen you so sad, and you're not looking after yourself. Are you even eating? Don't you think it's time to call it off?"

I burst into tears, my words coming out as fervent sobs. "You think I haven't tried, Dad? This is bloody Ryan's idea. I want him home now. I bloody hate it"

"Should I talk to him? Would that help?" He asked.

That was my dad, always in my corner, always there to help. I wasn't convinced, but maybe. "Well, it couldn't hurt. Maybe if you talk to him, he might understand."

That really caused a fight. Ryan rang in a very angry mood. There was no happy greeting. He just laid into me about me getting my father to call him.

"Well, if my husband was here at home where he was supposed to be, he wouldn't have to would he." I screamed hysterically at the phone.

"Christ, you've become a real bitch lately, Lou. Every time I come home you nag me like an old crone."

"Fuck you, Ryan, don't bother coming home at the end of this swing."

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't," he snarled.

When the septic tank overflowed, I was over it. I was sick of living by myself.

The six months was up, I tried and I was sick of living like a solo mother. I waited expectantly at the airport for him. He looked so happy to be with me. He swung me around in his arms, and we kissed passionately. "God, it's bloody good to have you in my arms again." He sighed loudly.

We rushed home, breaking speed limits all the way. We jumped into bed, and made love frantically. It was rough and furious, but oh so good.

Afterwards, I jumped out of bed, and started getting dressed. "Where are you going?" he complained.

"To get Bronny, you remember your daughter, right?"

"Come on darl, would it matter if we had another hour together?"

"Ryan, she's been hanging out to see her dad. She bawled her eyes out when I told her she was staying with Nan while I picked you up."

He collapsed back on the bed with a resigned sigh.

Bronny was so happy to see him, and once he had her in his arms his demeanour changed. They kissed and hugged, and she dragged him into her room to show him her new toys.

Dinner was fun, Bronny was laughing as she stuffed her face, sitting on her daddy's knee. There was no escape for Ryan; he had to read her a book when we finally convinced her it was bed time.

The cleaning up was complete, and I was sitting with a coffee in the lounge. He grabbed another beer, his fourth, and sat with me. "We could have an early night," he suggested with a sexy smirk.

"I wanted to talk first."

"Oh right, yeah, let's do that," he grumbled sourly.

"Ryan, this is important. The six months is over, and I wanted to talk about what you're going to do. Have you started looking for work yet?"

"What, I have a great job, the plan's working. Fucking hell, Lou, in another six months, the mortgage will be gone. We will be free, baby, fucking free. No more indebtedness to the bank. We can do what we like."

"Ryan, when I agreed to the six months, you said you would come home. We need you." I couldn't stop the tears, I hated crying, but I was so frustrated.

"No baby, we said we would reassess. Jesus, didn't the fucking vibrator help at all?"

"What, you think this is about sex? I'm lonely, Ryan, if I wanted to be a solo mother, I could be. That's not what I signed up for. We had an agreement, and I'm holding you to it."

He put his beer down, and pulled me into his arms, and the kiss was so warm, so soothing. I felt the anger dissipate, and somehow we ended up in bed making love again.

The next day he started on the gardens, and when I got home from work, he and Bronny were working, busily clearing the mountain of weeds.

That night, dinner was good, the evening was fun, right up until Bronny went to bed. I asked him, "Did you look for work?"

He gave me that determined, set, square-jawed stare. "Lou, I have a job, and it's a fucking good one. Look, just give me a year. Let me get rid of the mortgage."

"No, we had an agreement, and I'm calling it."

"Sorry, Lou, but the answer's no. You're just being fucking daft. Tell you what, sell the salon, that way you could spend more time with Bronny and keep the house maintenance up. That way when I get home, we can spend it together. Christ, every time I'm home at the moment, I have to do gardens, lawns, water-blasting the fucking house."

"So. You're breaking your promise?"

"No, the agreement was we reassess. I've done that, and I want to keep going."

"Well, I don't. It's not fair, Ryan, not fair at all. My vote is just as important as yours. I want you home. I work long days, as well. I'm tired."

"That's what I'm saying, baby, sell the fucking salon. Spend the time with Bronny. That way you wouldn't be fucking lonely all the time."

"You've actually become a real dick since you've been working over there with all those arseholes. You used to care about us."

"Oh, fuck," he snarled. "You think working twelve hour days in the baking fucking heat isn't caring? I'm doing this for us."

"No, you're not, Ryan. We have plenty of equity in the house, and my salon is doing really well. If you came home, we would be fine."

The argument blew up big time. Bronny came running out and I had to quieten her down as she cried and cried. Ryan just paced around angrily.

The next day, things returned to a non-warfare mode. We managed to find some love. That night we made love again, although it was so cold. It was more fucking than lovemaking.

In the end, there was no denying him. He wanted another year, and he got his way. I hated it, absolutely despised him for forcing me to live that way. Our marriage was dissolving around us, and there seemed no way to stop it.

We were in an eddy, a vortex sucking us towards an inevitable implosion, we just didn't know it.

It wasn't just the fact we were alone. When he came home, it became plain to see he was morphing into the guys he worked with. He swore all the time, and I had to constantly berate him for swearing in front of Bronny. It wasn't just the swearing, it was his attitude to life in general. He used to be so warm and caring, now he was coarse, and rigid.

He was becoming one of those chauvinistic, domineering arseholes he used to hate. It wasn't just life in general, it was sex, as well. We used to make love, we used to have this loving warm loving sexual relationship, now it was all just frantic fucking, and he said nasty dirty things to me while he used me.

That caused an argument on its own. "How much porn do you watch when you're away?" I sniped.

He shrugged, "A bit. I mean, shit baby, you surely can't deny me that. Fuck, I have needs as well, it's just easier to masturbate with a bit of visual stimulus."