[:::: Authors Note ::::]
I've been a little burnt out over the past few months thanks to some real-life challenges in my businesses. At certain points, I've almost felt like a character in one of my stories, a couple of situations where the abuse hurled at me kind of broke me a little. It's meant that I have not had the energy to finish a number of stories I have been working on, and for those of you who have been sending me private messages and email's thank you for your concern, it has been appreciated. I am working with editors to finish about four stories, and I have drafts on another three pretty much done, so hopefully, there will be a few new stories from me soon.
Overall, there is not much new and different about this tale. I'm not trying to break any new emotional barriers. The drama in this story is perhaps a little more muted than what you may have been used to from me in my stories.
I outlined the plot for this story and wrote the draft almost two years ago as I began drafting words that I thought I might like to publish. As such, some of the story is not as developed as I see the newer tales I write. I have updated a few sections but have chosen largely to leave it as is.
I would also be remiss if I did not thank my editors, Mike and Larry. All us authors love to tell a story, but it's the editors that spend their time polishing what we write that make it shine. Thank you, gentlemen.
I hope you enjoy 'Bed and Breakfast.'
[:::: Bed and Breakfast ::::]
I'll be honest. I don't have too much of an idea about how the final scene in my marriage played out. At the time when Candice got home from her conference, I was thirty-thousand feet in the air. I would like to imagine that she walked in the door yelling out a greeting she was home, followed by how much she missed me, and lastly, she was glad to be home.
I bet she was hoping that I would be waiting with dinner on the table like I usually did. I want to think that she frowned when she walked into the kitchen and found the full-colour printout of her less than forty-eight hours earlier, getting fucked by my boss, her boss, one of my close friends and to throw a real kicker in the mix, my lawyer.
As she looked underneath the printout, I'm sure she became upset at the divorce papers staring back at her, the copy of the pre-nuptial agreement and a thirty-day eviction notice.
I would like to think that she was upset and inconsolable, but honestly, I have no idea.
But then again, a little over a month ago, I had no idea my wife was a cheating skank, and my employer, her employer and even my friends were enjoying the pleasures of my wife that were supposed to be mine and mine alone as laid out in our wedding vows.
My name is Thomas Other, twenty-seven years old, and I was the sole heir to a seventy-million-dollar trust left by my grandparents when I turned thirty-two; that was the motivation behind all the shit I was in. Until then, I came of age. I got a payment of eight thousand a month which was part of the interest the fund generated each month. I also got rental incomes from several investment properties around the country and my own luxurious penthouse apartment with zero debt. But I wasn't a lazy trust fund baby. By day I worked as an accountant for Saymen and Zacks, a high-end accounting firm based in Melbourne, Australia.
By now, you're guessing that I had grown up on the good side of the tracks, and you would certainly be correct. However, my parents had always taught me never to look down on someone who didn't have the background we did. I was an only child and had lost both my parents and grandparents simultaneously. They were aboard a private plane that went down over Europe while they were on holiday when I was twenty-one. I was supposed to be on that trip, but I had university exams, so I became the sole surviving heir to the family fortune.
It wasn't that much of a secret that I was heir to the huge trust, but I never flaunted it. My parents had bought me a beautiful penthouse apartment near the university, which also ended up being a close walk to Saymen and Zacks when I graduated, so I had been situated very nicely for a number of years with no real complaints.
In coming back to my traitorous slut of a wife. I met Candice one evening when a couple of friends and I were out on the town. Candice was with a few girlfriends doing the same thing. We danced, I bought a few rounds of drinks, and she wound up back at my apartment in bed with me when we figured, following the drunken haze, that we liked each other. In what has become a twist of irony, Candice was out that night supporting one of her girlfriends who had found out her boyfriend was cheating on her.
Over the next few months, Candice and I met up several times, each time ending with us fucking up a storm in bed. It was a foregone conclusion when we decided to become exclusive. I truly believe that in those early days, the fact that I had money never really bothered Candice. Until recently, I always thought that she was level-headed. Candice worked at a top-tier marketing firm in the city, making a decent wage herself. Looking back, I thought we had a great married life. As a young couple of means, we rarely ate at home. Tuesdays and Thursdays were gym evenings for both of us and Saturday nights were party nights out on the town, enjoying fine dining, dancing at clubs, or laughing ourselves silly at one of the local comedy clubs.
I cringed with what I now knew when I thought back on asking her to marry me. Of course, she said yes, and at the time, I thought I was the luckiest man alive. In the looks department, Candice was what most men would think is fairly average. She had mousy brown hair and was perhaps a little heavier than she wanted to be. But she had a great pair of tits, D-cups with big nipples, and she loved sex in all its varieties. Missionary, cowboy, doggy, anal, and even some water sports now and then when the mood was right. She loved to suck my cock and always swallowed. We made our own home movies, and after a few drinks, we would often retire to the bedroom and watch a couple while I fucked my woman with all I had, and she moaned through orgasm after orgasm.
We had been married for two years and were starting to talk about a family when in retrospect, it all started falling apart. Every few months, Candice would have to travel for work, a conference or some other reason. At first, I never gave it any thought. I mean, we never have cause to doubt the ones we love, do we? In the bedroom, nothing changed overly much. We still fucked like bunnies and sure, I missed her when she was gone. But I always knew when she came home, I would receive a whole lot of makeup sex. More than once, while my wife was travelling, I relieved the tension by watching one of our home movies, but I never thought of the shit show coming my way until one day it did.
My manager and partner in the firm I worked for, George Saymen, had just announced that he had to travel for three weeks. It happened now and then, but the duration of three weeks caught my attention. Candice, this morning also told me she had a three-week conference to attend next week as well. Of course, being a clueless husband, I thought it more idle curiosity than anything else. But it was one of our interns, a twenty-two-year-old blonde bombshell, Iona from Germany, that clued me in.
"Hey Thomas," Iona said, drifting into my office after George's announcement. "You got a minute?"
"Sure Iona, give me a second," I told her just saving a spreadsheet I was working on for one of our enterprise clients. I turned back to her and studied her for a moment.
Iona Braun was quite short but cute in the extreme. She had long golden hair down to her waist, big expressive blue eyes and the petiteness of a princess. She always wore conservative clothing but in a very professional manner that always told her out to be serious about her job. She was finishing up with us at the end of next week and moving up north as she toured Australia for the next year before heading to Germany for another year to meet extended family. I had shared a few coffees with her during the three months she had been with us. I found her to be honest to a fault, never letting anyone do the wrong thing.
One time one of the junior accountants was under pressure to get a job done, so they tried to cut a few corners. Even though Iona was only an intern, she called it out, and the accountant had to eat crow for a month. So, as I looked at Iona, seeing the solemn expression on her endearing face, I frowned, knowing the topic was going to be sombre.
"What's up Iona? You look serious, is everything all right?" I asked.
She hesitated for a second, looking over her shoulder out of the office at everyone. Then she frowned at something before looking back at me.
"Thomas," Iona said very seriously. "I need to talk to you about something, but not here. Would you take me for lunch today?"
Caught out by what this might be, I became curious.
"Not a problem. Make Your Own sound good to you?" I asked, referring to a make-your-own sandwich shop that was quite popular. You could create a sandwich, wrap or salad with whatever you wanted for a few dollars.
She nodded, "Yes, but the one up on George on the other side of William St. please."
I must admit I was curious but thought nothing heading so far from the office until we sat down with our food and she reached out and put a hand on my arm. I looked at her raising an eyebrow. I would never have thought Iona would hit on me, and she knew there was no way I would cheat on Candice.
Seeing my eyebrow raised, Iona quickly withdrew her hand blushing.
"Sorry Thomas," she said in her sweet high-tone. She had just a tinge of the German accent. "It's just I know what I have to say is going to be very hard for you to hear. I didn't think, forgive me."
I felt my stomach lurch. I wasn't sure what this was about, but suddenly knew it was going to be trouble for me. I had only been given the look Iona was wearing once in my life. That was when my grandparents and parents didn't return from overseas.
I swallowed.
"It's all right Iona," I replied with mock confidence, my lunch now forgotten on the table in front of me. "But I have to admit you have me worried. What's this about?"
Over the next twenty minutes, Iona relayed to me how she overheard George Saymen talking last week to someone about how he was looking forward to fucking 'everyone' in two weeks' time. Iona blushed as she told me he got very descriptive and agreed to meet the group labelled everyone for a coffee to coordinate their upcoming debauchery that evening.
She then blew me away as she told me she quietly followed him, taking photos of George and other men embracing and kissing a mystery woman. Turning her phone with a pained expression on her face, Iona showed me the photo where it turned out the woman turned out to be my wife, Candice.
I just about lost my half-eaten lunch, and over the next few minutes, Iona told me how sorry she was. The only reason she knew who the woman was, was because of the photo on my desk of Candice and me holding each other on our wedding day.
To say I was devastated was an understatement. I must have sat there almost comatose for a few minutes before Iona reached out and touched my arm again.
"Thomas?" she said softly, "Can you hear me?"
I snorted.
"Yeah, sorry Iona, thanks for not asking if I am all right; I'm not," I replied, then I sighed heaving my shoulders expressively. "I guess I need to call my lawyer."
Iona frowned.
