Chapter 1:
Our minds are such fickle masters of our actions. What is it that makes us so suddenly fall in love so that we can no longer bear to exist without someone? How does our mind become so mesmerised that its judgment is totally abandoned? And yet how fickle it is, that we can just as easily fall out of love again and no longer care whether we see that same person? That suddenly our life seems so much better without them. How can such an irreversible change happen so suddenly and so absolutely? Yet if our mind is indeed fickle, then it is also very vulnerable. Are we the victim of random chance that dictates how our minds will respond? Or is there some purpose in the way it twists our behaviour first one way then another? Either way every one of us must guard carefully this power house of our daily actions, for if we are too open then we may let someone inside and like a maggot they will eat away at the very heart of our being, twisting and turning us in much the same way a maggot twists and tries to escape the inevitable once impaled upon the fisherman's hook. From the outside everything may seem untrammelled, but inside just as the rotten apple, we are transforming - slowly bit by bit, piece builds upon little piece turning us into some new design. But whose?
They were happy times, those happy years with Tom. Perhaps not the exciting adventurer that would constantly have you with your heart in your mouth, but caring and dependable, always supportive, always the rock. Yes we were happy and life was good, whatever else life had in store for us, we were together and together we would face it. Yet somehow in this life we always pay for the small fragments of happiness we manage to pick up along our road. Someone always looks jealously upon your happiness and from somewhere deep within they find a need to destroy it. There must always be a price to pay and someone out there willing to exact that price from us. And it seems that the more happy we find ourselves, the greater must be that price we must pay. Well Tom and I were indeed very, very happy and as for the price...
I suppose it started, or at least that is the earliest I can trace it back to, when the company Tom worked for went through a major repositioning in the market and there were new people brought in. One of these was Ricky who was hired in to head Tom's division. Tom was very worried about this brash new kid coming in and what changes he would bring. At the same time, however, perhaps this was Tom's chance for promotion. If he could impress and show that he could bring forward the changes Ricky needed then, he argued, he would be rewarded.
So it was that Ricky was invited over to our house for dinner one night and the opportunity for Tom to impress him. Problem was, however, that Tom was not at home when Ricky arrived on the doorstep and so started to unfold a tale unimaginable to me at the time. Oh if only Tom had not been late that day, but then again there were many things that I didn't understand then...
Sara and Tom had been married for only a couple of short years. They were very much in love and with their combined income there was every chance of a happy future together. With the arrival of Ricky on the scene, however, Tom was passing through a period of great uncertainty and he did not want to risk a chance for Ricky to form the wrong impression of him so as soon as the young whiz kid was installed Tom lost no time in inviting him round to talk about his ideas for the reshaping of the company. Tom was young and ambitious and with his wife Sara by his side he felt confident. Yet on the day, while everything was being got ready for Ricky's visit, the phone had rung. It was Sam from work. He had lost his job in the recent reshuffle and Tom agreed to go over and chat with him. After all, he had said to Sara, if it were the other way round he would need some support from his colleagues to cope with the lay off.
So Sara flitted about the house trying to get all prepared. Fortunately she had Marie, their maid, to help her. She seemed to be very efficient and Sara was almost unaware that she was there, but could see how everything was under control. The food was cooking, and it smelt good, and the house was being tidied and readied for their guest. They worked together and there was a chemistry between them that helped them quickly to establish an understanding. Marie was a Latin girl of similar age and build to Sara and had only recently joined them, being sent by the agency.
Ricky arrived and Tom was still not back from his visit to Sam. Sara felt some irritation towards him leaving her alone to tackle Ricky at their first meeting. She was a little apprehensive as she showed him into the house. Ricky was clearly a bright man; he looked too young to be Tom's boss so must have risen fast and had no trouble feeling at ease as he entered their home. Clearly he had plenty of self-confidence. Sara showed him into the sitting room as Marie called out she was off home and then fixed him a drink. She sat opposite him and they started to chat. Of course she had to apologise for her husband's absence and privately cursed his name as she did so.
As they chatted Sara found it difficult to keep up with the conversation. She found herself strangely distracted, although she was not entirely sure on what. Ricky seemed to be asking quite personal questions about her and Tom which made her feel a little uncomfortable. Yet during their conversation she was repeatedly wrong-footed by her mind wandering off at a tangent and leaving her struggling to keep a focus on what he said. Perhaps she would have been a little more circumspect about her answers if she didn't have to work so hard to concentrate.
Sara was not comfortable being alone with Ricky and hoped her husband would show up soon. She started to wonder what to do about dinner if he delayed much longer. Why was it so difficult to hear what he was saying? Was he whispering or was she just distracted?
"My God, I hope he doesn't realise. He will either think he is boring me or that I am a complete Bimbo", she thought. "I must try harder for Tom's sake."
Suddenly her thoughts cleared as she heard Tom's key in the lock. She felt the relief wash over her at the sound but at the same time felt confused as one waking from deep sleep. She wasn't quite sure where she was and as with a vivid dream as she awoke she could suddenly picture what had been running through her mind as it faded slowly beyond recall. She had been sitting opposite Ricky and running through her mind she had seen a picture of herself lying back in the curve of her armchair. She pictured her body, seen sideways on, the chair sweeping it round and raising upwards the lower half of her frame, up towards Ricky. In this picture painted in her mind, she could see her most private parts being pushed up by the chair like an offering to Ricky and she became aware that in reality her legs were planted apart as far as the tightness of her dress allowed. The mind picture had been so vivid, a woman wantonly displaying herself towards this man, ready and open for him like some offering.
She had pictured his cock sliding into her wet hole; she could see the veins on his member bulge as they slid back and forth against her lips pulled tightly around it. She was leaning back supplicating as he drove himself into her. She could feel the submission deep within her as she saw the head of his cock push right up to her cervix. She could feel the knock-knock of it at her womb as he hammered into her and how she longed to open that door and feel his seed rush inside her. Sara's conscious was repelled by the vision it saw. How could she think such thoughts of a man she had just met and barely knew? She was Tom's wife and her womb should only open for his seed. What had she been thinking of? Yet as she replayed these scenes she became aware that she was very wet. For a confused moment she wondered whether these things had really happened, that Ricky had actually made love to her in her own armchair, in their own house while her husband was out. She became aware that these thoughts were driving a feeling of tightness in her chest and she could feel her nipples harden in response to the idea. Horrified she shook her head to escape the phantasm.
As she did so she became a little more aware of her surroundings. She wasn't actually leaning back, but was sitting well forward, leaning towards Ricky. Her legs had been splayed and leaning forward made her feel more wanton. Ricky was on the couch somewhat sprawled, lying even, as he talked with her. His hands were in his pockets and clearly as she had leant forward her face had been pointed towards his groin. As her eyes focused she realised that he was clearly aroused, his monster was very obviously straining within the confines of his trousers, as it tried to reach up towards her mouth which she became aware, had been open. She became aware that her throat was dry and so she must have held her mouth open for some time. As she awoke from her trance she closed her mouth and looked up into Ricky's eyes as Tom entered the room. She found to her horror recognition on his behalf of her proffered state and feared what he must have been thinking. How could she have acted in this way?
"Hi darling, sorry I'm late." Tom's words broke into her thoughts. Then turning to Ricky, "I hope Sara has been keeping you amused. Time just seemed to pass so quick. Sorry darling, I got back as soon as I could." Tom held out his hand and Ricky stood up and shook it.
