Shades Destiny Ch 01

The sharp sting of the slap woke me up. It was hard enough to take any sleepy dullness out of my head but didn't leave my ears ringing. The voice was prickly and cold, "Wake up slut! I want my day started right." I knew where I was. In her bed, between her legs, where, apparently, I'd fallen asleep what felt like an hour ago. Bright sunlight flooded the room. The night had begun not long after dinner and the drapes hadn't been closed.

I snaked my way to her parted legs and lapped at the bare, sodden lips of her pussy. Fingers gripped my short black hair tightly and held me in place. I sighed inside as I worked, feverishly, to bring her to yet another climax. My mind wandered as my tongue did its work. A part of me knew this was how I'd wind up when it began on that Friday in July. After the divorce I'd seen a shrink. Among other things I learned about myself was that we generally know when we do something wrong we will get caught. And that most of the time it's what we wanted. Shade's moans let me know I was servicing her well, again. I knew the rhythms of her body well enough by now.

Her fingers toyed with her clit while my tongue took her where she wanted to go. I saw her stomach clench, heard the low growl of pleasure, her hips rocked, my lips and mouth were flooded with her juices and she screamed as it exploded in her, using words that were no longer unfamiliar to me. This wasn't how my life was supposed to go and yet, this

is

my life. After the spasms subsided and the torrent had become a trickle she pushed me away, climbed out of bed, and strode to the bathroom. Naked, I lay on the scented, soaked sheets. I was beyond tears. Humiliation is a daily part of my life now. I guess I should go back and start at the beginning.

My name is Destiny Langan. Langan is my birth name. I took it back after the divorce. I'm 38, 5-7, 135 pounds, short black hair, pale green eyes, a trim 34c-24-36. My body is showing signs of my age, though usually I'm the only one to notice. Or was - until these last few days. Sigh

I grew up in Hackensack, New Jersey. An only child, my parents had me late in their lives. I was told I was a blessing but it felt like I'd been an unwanted burden. I went to Indiana University, majored in Accounting and Economics, and was married at twenty five. We moved to Kokomo where we eventually bought a house. I had a medical scare when I was late in my twenties and had a complete hysterectomy so children were not part of the equation.

What started out as a 'dream' marriage turned sour after that. Denny wanted a family; he was one of eight kids. Denny grew distant emotionally and physically after my operation. When the downturn hit in 2008 and the world collapsed, a town like Kokomo was devastated. Home to several big factories that employed thousands as well as just about every restaurant chain in the country, the divorce rate, foreclosures and spousal abuse all rose dramatically.

Never one to hold his liquor, Denny only hit me once. That was the night I confronted him about the affair he was having with my best friend Karin Woods. What the asshole didn't know was that she had an STD courtesy of one of her lovers. I packed up that night after he left to go back to the bar. I stuffed as many suitcases and other things into my car, drove to East Lafayette, and spent the night at a hotel near I-65. I called in to work the next day, quit, looked up a divorce attorney in town, and started divorce proceedings. I went to the bank, cleared out both our joint bank accounts, opened new ones in my name, got in the car, and headed north.

The attorney asked about the house. I signed a quit claim deed. The house was under water anyway. I never even had to go to court. I just signed a bunch of documents, faxed them back to the attorney, and was single again on December 7

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, 2008. What was I going to do with the rest of my life? I had no idea. Not one. My father had died of a heart attack at age sixty three; my mother was ill for some time before passing away the year after my surgery. Her lengthy illness chewed up quite a bit of their cash reserve so basically my inheritance was the proceeds of the sale of my childhood home.

I found a furnished apartment with a sublease on the north side of Chicago. I didn't want something permanent until I had gotten some sense of the city, where I might work, and, perhaps, made a few friends. I temped for a while though I wasn't desperate for money. It was okay I guess. Two weeks here, two weeks there. Never really getting a chance to settle in, get to know the others in the office, but it helped. It got me out of the cramped confines of the apartment, an environment even more depressing than the last few years of my marriage.

I started checking out coffee shops. I'd sit in the always changing landscape -- young, old, men, women, all wanting to fill their unique craving for caffeine, my laptop on the table top, searching for any sort of employment that looked interesting. Today, for whatever reason, I'd wanted to try a new one. I spotted it as I was riding the bus and got off at the next stop. D's Coffee Shop. I liked it the moment I stepped inside. It was quaint, soft music dancing off brightly colored walls, the pervasive scent of coffee, soft murmur of voices. It felt like it had female ownership; there was the distinct sense of a woman's touch as my eyes moved around the room. Coffee in hand, I looked for an open table. I found one, settled in, and took a first, small sip, taking in the crowd. Well now, maybe I'd been dealt a bit of good luck. Everyone in the shop was female. No staring, leering men. No reason to feel uneasy.

I was gliding over the want ads when a voice asked, "Would you mind company?" The pretty face, accompanied by a wide, inviting smile, was attached to a woman with round grey eyes, lush dark brown hair, and flawless skin. What the hell; break up the monotony of being alone.

"No, please sit," I said with a welcoming smile. "The company will be a welcome change of pace."

"Thank you. It's always awkward barging into someone's alone time but I know what you mean. I needed to get out of the house for a bit. I love my kids but sometimes I need to just be Stacy." With that she reached across and offered her hand. "I'm Stacy Gaffney," she said with a shy smile, "though most days now I'm 'Mommy.'" I laughed and had that little twinge in my heart. I introduced myself as well. "I don't think I've seen you here before Destiny. Are you new to the neighborhood?"

Well, you probably know all the stories I do about how a stranger becomes your new best friend an hour later. This time, it was nearly two hours of non-stop chatting, some hilarious baby stories, and sympathetic nods as I told her what led to and about my divorce. I remember blushing when Stacy told me I had the most beautiful mouth. I guess I'm pretty. It was nice to hear a compliment from a woman, very attractive herself. I never thought of it as anything more than that.

She described some of the details of her life. Thirty three when we met, she and her husband, Matt Rooney, were married at twenty five. He is an attorney. They waited a few years before starting a family. Gavin, four, was in pre-school. Brianna, two, was just getting out of diapers. She seemed blissfully happy if a little harried.

At one point the conversation moved to work. When I mentioned I was temping Stacy asked about my background. I gave her the short version. Her eyes brightened, her smile beamed and she said, "You know, just the other day the owner of the place I work mentioned she was looking for someone to bring in as bookkeeper. That's probably a little beneath your qualifications, but if you have a résumé handy I'll give it to Shade. Shade Nguyen, my boss, is the owner of the Lincoln Park Insurance Agency."

I was flabbergasted and grateful for the opportunity. I handed her mine with a slight tremble in my hands. We giggled as she helped me with puzzle of pronouncing Shade's last name correctly. Mispronouncing a prospective boss's name does

not

leave a good impression. It had been over two hours and Stacy hinted she needed to get back home. When she asked I agreed to meet back here Saturday morning. We stood, hugged, and promised to keep in touch. We'd exchanged cell numbers and emails. As we headed to the door together a voice called out to Stacy. She turned to me apologetically.

"Oh please, don't be silly," I said, casually dismissing her concerns. "This was my first time here. You live in the neighborhood and probably come here often. I'll catch the bus, you catch up with whomever. See you Saturday." She smiled gratefully, squeezed my hand, and said thanks. I smiled, turned, and headed out. What a lovely woman, what a fabulous little find the coffee shop was, and what a great break if this chance meeting led to a permanent job.

That Saturday morning get together with Stacy turned out to be a fantastic day. I'd gotten a call on Friday, had an interview scheduled for Monday, and Stacy shared my excitement at the prospects of my hiring. We chatted about the baby, juggling work and home, and her always busy schedule. Matt was home with the kids. I shared her joy and kept the ember of anguish about her seemingly normal life at bay. She mentioned that she was going shopping and asked if I had plans. Saturday in a city I was still learning my way around? My social calendar was chock full of empty. Of course I'd join her. I was thrilled.

After we'd finished our respective coffees and had gabbed for a while we headed out, hand in hand. Stacy was airy, cheerful and talked a mile a minute as we walked down the west side of the street. She pointed out various shops along the way, giving me the thumbnail sketch of what they carried, what she thought of them, and so forth. We stopped in several, tried on blouses, skirts, shoes, and cooed over scarves, handbags and the like. She held up a gorgeous emerald green, scoop neck, pull-over blouse. She asked what I thought. It was a fabulous complement to her grey eyes. She scurried to a nearby dressing stall and pulled the curtain. I marveled at my good fortune in finding such a comfortable, charming new friend as I made my way through the rows of offerings.

My jaw dropped when Stacy came out in the blouse. Though loose fitting, it looked gorgeous on her. Sleeves just above the elbow were loosely banded with elastic. She seemed thrilled at my approval. She wandered the rows with me. When I held up the blue chiffon blouse Stacy actually gasped out loud. It was absolutely stunning. She begged me to try it on. How could I refuse those grey eyes? I pulled the curtain, slipped off my light cotton sweater, and slid the silky fabric over my head. I looked at myself in the full mirror. It was absolutely spectacular.

I was debating about whether to dare look at the price when the curtain was pulled back. There stood Stacy with two other blouses over her arm. I blushed; she apologized for being so forward, then stood and gawked. She hung the two blouses on the hook and moved closer to inspect the blouse, commenting on the fabric, the fit, and how it looked on me. My self-conscious self dismissed her barging into the close quarters as a friend's enthusiasm over my find.

She reached for one of her selections. Blue seemed to be the color of the day. She asked me to face the mirror; as I did she reached around and held the blouse in front of me. I felt her presence behind me. It was fabulous. Stacy described the design on the scooped neck as origami. I had no clue. She begged me to try it on. I blinked.

"Oh for god's sake Destiny, we're both women. I do this all the time when I'm out shopping with friends." She shook her head and smiled. I felt foolish, shrugged and lifted the light chiffon over my head. She handed me the new blouse and hung the other on a clear plastic hanger. I slipped the dark blue over my head and let it slide down over my shoulders. It was the definition of light as a feather. The sleeves came just below the elbows, the hem just south of my hips. Perfect! I turned - a smile on my face.

Stacy shook her head in wonder. "Destiny, it's like that blouse was made with you in mind." She stepped close and grabbed lightly at the shoulders as if to shake it out. Stepping back, she nodded in approval. "I don't know how much you want to spend but I think you're two for two today." Her smile ear to ear, she hugged me. Hmm. It felt awkward not to return the hug so I did. "Come on lady, we've done enough damage here. Put your sweater back on and let's hit the road." As she finished she turned, reached for the sweater and handed it to me. She waited; I waited. The moment passed. I put the fleeting thought out of my mind, took off the blouse, and put my sweater on.

My friend beamed her approval as I reached for my purchases. I was happy; they're both wonderful. We each paid. The sales woman thanked us and said, "It's nice to have you back Stacy. And thank you for bringing your friend." Stacy introduced me to Shelley. We shook hands. Shelley said she hoped to see me back again soon. How sweet! I signed the credit card receipt. She asked for my email address. I hesitated; Stacy assured it me they only used it to keep customers informed when new merchandise arrived. Stacy's endorsement helped; it seemed harmless enough. I wrote it on the back of the credit card slip. Shelley wished us both a pleasant weekend and bade us goodbye.

Down the street we went, ducking in here and there, trying things on, holding up others to mirrors, commenting to each other about yays and nays. We had gone maybe eight blocks when Stacy suggested we cross the street and try that side. Sounded like fun. My Saturday of shopping resulted in a scarf, a pair of sunglasses Stacy assured me I simply had to have, a pair of earrings that I couldn't pass up, my two blouses and a partridge in a pear tree.

As we approached D's it seemed this fabulous day was coming to an end. Stacy had other plans. She insisted on buying lunch. I demurred, she persisted. Not wanting to offend I caved. Even though it was early April it was unseasonably warm so we took advantage and sat outside. Stacy asked if I drank liquor; she suggested white wine when I replied in the affirmative. It seemed she knew someone everywhere we went.

She addressed our server by name, "April, this is Destiny, a new friend. Would you please bring us two glasses of my fav Chardonnay?" April smiled, nodded as she wrote, and left. Young, Hispanic coloring, stunningly lovely, dark brown eyes, full lips, slender, wearing a tee and jeans that had that painted on look. Simply gorgeous.

Stacy teased me as my eyes followed April while she headed into the restaurant. "See something you like?" I turned several shades of red. I guess I deserved that. The truth is she

is

a lovely young lady. Hard

not

to notice. Stacy seemed amused as I fumbled to verbalize what I'd been thinking. She patted my hand with hers and, curiously, left it there. "Just imagine the looks she'd be getting if Matt was here." My tension disappeared with her cute comment.

When April returned with the wine I saw her glance at Stacy's hand on mine and the quick glance at Stacy. I moved my hand to pick up the wine glass. Stacy ordered the southwest salmon salad; I ordered the Santa Fe chicken salad. We both laughed at our distinctly female selections. We clinked glasses to Stacy's, "Thank you for joining me on this beautiful Saturday, Destiny. I enjoyed the company, the shopping, and love your new blouses. It's just wonderful to have made a new friend." I thanked her and agreed. I had thoroughly enjoyed the outing.

We chatted lightly as we sipped our wine; when April brought our salads the banter continued. Stacy and her husband had dinner plans for tonight. Tomorrow the family was going to his parent's house for brunch. She hoped to spend a relaxing Sunday night at home. I'd be going back to the tiny confines. The salad was wonderful; Stacy echoed my thoughts. We relaxed with another glass of wine before leaving. April wished us both a great weekend. When Stacy and I said our goodbyes we hugged; she kissed me lightly on the cheek. Startled, I did the same. Her eyes bright, she wished me luck on Monday. We said our goodbyes. She headed home; I waited for the bus. Fuck it; I hailed a cab.

The interview seemed to go very well Monday. Shade was very pleasant. The questions were in depth. I answered them as best as I could. She seemed pleased. She asked when I could start. I wasn't on assignment so I let her know I was available as soon as she had made a decision. She nodded, stood, thanked me for my time, and promised a call in a day, two tops. It came early Wednesday morning. Could I start Monday the 13

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? You betcha!!

That's how I wound up working where I did. That it started out as temporary was a bit disappointing, but Shade's explanation during my interview made perfect sense. She was unsure of just how much work there was, wanted to make sure she'd found just the right person, and promised a review in three months. Sounded fair to me. The environment at work seemed pleasant enough. There were eight of us, including my friend Stacy, who worked there. All of us were women. The office was a mix of what you'd expect: some married; some divorced, and some, like Shade, were single. I was the oldest of the group. Though I was temping I did begin to make friends with some of the others in the office.

Six agents, including Shade, sold a variety of products for a host of companies. I didn't know much about the insurance business and it felt strange and icky. Selling things to people? Denny and I had been approached by people we knew and/or had gone to school with. He had played baseball in college until he blew up his shoulder during a double play. He wasn't gigantic or anything but he was a sturdy 6 ft 3 inches. His stony glare usually resulted in a hurried retreat.

I was grateful when Shade befriended me. She's is a tiny little thing. Second generation Vietnamese, now 33, long, straight, black hair! She's not only short but slender; think 5 ft 4 inches and 110 pounds. Bubbly and warm with clients, I learned she could be distant and harsh in the office. She lives in a posh condo on Lake Shore Drive. I was a dinner guest on occasion. Plus, while the Agency was still small, she'd had office parties (Christmas, for instance) at her place.

I was thrilled when Shade made good on her promise and offered me full time employment after three months of temping. A first step toward a new life. I moved into my apartment over Labor Day weekend of 2009. Chicago was becoming my kind of town but I hadn't completed my makeover. I was living and working in a city I'd never set foot in prior to the divorce. I relied on those I'd come to know best, particularly Stacy, for help with things like doctors, dentists, and other professionals. Stacy recommended her Ob/Gyn; a blessing. Insurance? I'm laughing. Anything I needed, any questions I had, I could simply ask anyone in the Agency.

It was Shade who recommended the management company that helped me find my apartment. Stacy came to the rescue as I furnished the place. She took me to some upscale second hand stores for some of the things that could be purchased that way. Several of the others in the office, Shade included, generously offered their time and assistance as well.

If you're a woman reading this you're asking: Where does she go to get her hair, nails and the rest done? I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings but I also didn't want to impose on Shade and Stacy for every little thing. Lindsay Berger, a gorgeous blonde who was part of the sales team, always looked completely put together. I asked her one day where her salon was. It was within walking distance of the office. It turns out several of the employees were regular patrons as well. That was all I needed to hear. Another puzzle piece in place!!