Hi all. Sorry for the delay in publishing Ch.3. It's been a busy week at work and I was editorially not pleased with my story so had to keep going through and adding/removing parts. It's a bit of a transitional chapter. Thanks for all the Ch. 02 reads and upvotes.
Due to Friday's events, the weekend has been very busy. I've reflected on my night tied to Linda's desk and feel that I've scrutinised every aspect of it. I've thought back to each of the involuntary orgasms and her delight at my inability to prevent them happening. Linda was unquestionably wrong to have done what she did to me. I've wondered quietly whether my submission to her might have derived from a sense of guilt over my complacence as a wife. In a way, what happened has helped me to realise that I ought to be making more effort in my marriage.
When I'd gotten home on Friday, it had been around a quarter to midnight.
I'd made a drink for myself and sat staring at the TV screen, contemplating.
Tom had already been in bed, and I'd not wanted to wake him up. In truth, I was angry at him.
I'd firmly believed that nothing physical happened between them, knowing that Linda wouldn't have been able to keep it to herself if it had. She'd have relished describing it to me.
I'd felt old feelings resurfacing, from when Tom and I had first gotten together. I'd been a very jealous person in my youth. I'd always seen opportunities for Tom to be unfaithful to me and had wrongly accused him of infidelity multiple times. We'd had a few crazy years of 'the green eyed me', before I'd finally felt secure enough to trust him, and I'd managed to get my feelings under control. Jealousy is often an ugly emotion, and our marriage had flourished when I'd dispelled it.
On Friday night, I'd seen potential in myself to 'fly off the handle' at Tom for his night with Linda and I didn't want to prematurely instigate an argument for something as 'trivial' as conversations between him and my boss; so I chewed on it quietly instead.
I considered reporting what Linda had done to me but ultimately talked myself out of it, considering how mortified I would feel having to speak about the number of orgasms I'd endured.
I'd fallen asleep downstairs and Tom had woken me up with a coffee on Saturday morning.
He'd waited for me to become conversable before asking me if I'd managed to get my work finished the previous night. When I'd looked at him confusedly, he'd told me about Linda's insistence that it was an outstanding 'personal development project' that was overdue. I was able to imagine her saying those exact words, with a deliberate double entendre. She is a proven genius in spinning lies. Tom had felt the need to tell me that she'd also assured him that I'd insisted she meet him instead of me. Tom is usually a very perceptive person, and I didn't doubt that Linda had been convincing.
Much unlike Linda, Tom had not embellished or given much stock to Friday night. I'd tried to be casual in quizzing him about it, and the answers he'd provided appeared to be honest and detailed enough. Some of what he'd recalled had been synonymous with Linda's account of things, but Tom's version of events seemed much more platonic and much less 'fairy-tale' than hers had been. When I'd asked if he'd exchanged numbers with her, he'd denied it and offered his phone for me to check. I'd declined to, believing him completely.
He'd laughed when I'd told him that Linda seemed to think they were flirting with each other and had insisted that he'd have rather spent the evening with me.
He'd made an offhand comment that I'd probably been having more fun with my 'overdue personal development project' than he'd had with Linda.
Perhaps this would have been the chance to have told him about what Linda had done to me, but in my own stupid mind, I'd felt that I should focus on repairing problems in our marriage instead of adding to them. I'd not wanted Tom to push me into reporting Linda either.
I'd made peace in my mind with the idea of Linda's penance being served in the knowledge that Tom would never choose her over me. I'd been on my best wifely behaviour for the weekend to reinforce this. On Saturday, I'd suggested Tom and I go for a day out together, which he'd seemed pleasantly surprised by. We'd gone for a coffee together in town and I'd taken the opportunity to quiz him about work. He'd talked about his need for more clients and though I'd been somewhat bored by it, I'd listened and tried to contribute regardless.
On Sunday, I'd resurrected our sex life. I'd made the time to groom myself, including shaving my legs, which Linda had described as a point of contention for him. I had come downstairs from the bath and seductively lain my legs across him to display their pristine condition. He'd complimented me and I'd felt attractive.
I'd then suggested we go upstairs together, making it abundantly clear what I was hinting at. I've never really been an initiator of sex, but I'd felt compelled to. Tom had apologised profusely and told me he had to go to the gym. I'd been disappointed but understood his commitment to his fitness.
I'd posed on the bed when he'd come out of the gym, hoping he'd ravish me. When he'd come into the bedroom to get clean clothes, he'd breathlessly asked me what I was doing, and I'd donned my best 'fuck me' face.
He'd apologised again and told me that he needed to shower and grab a protein shake.
I'd gotten up from the bed, trying to hide my rejection and gone downstairs to make the shake for him.
By the evening, I'd been getting a bit desperate, and defied my naturally submissive nature for the sake of making myself feel better. I'd dropped to my knees in front of Tom while he'd been watching boxing. He'd tried to make excuses as I'd wrangled his trousers and boxers down his legs.
I'd been determined to please him. Normally, I'll admit to not going the 'whole way down' his length, but on Sunday, I'd slurped my way down his inches, regardless of personal discomfort, gagging loudly. As I'd teased his cock, I'd found myself thinking about how Linda might do it differently, if she were given the chance.
The image of her sucking him hungrily had made me want to exceed my previous standards.
Tom hadn't objected to my renewed interest in pleasuring him, and after fifteen minutes of slobbering and choking myself on his shaft, he'd sprayed a hot load of cum into my throat.
Afterwards, he'd mumbled that he loved me, before putting his cock back into his boxers and offering to give me an orgasm in return. I'd declined and let him continue watching the boxing match.
It's now Monday morning and the weekend with Tom has made me feel better. I am confident that our marriage will survive Linda's attempts to damage it.
I've dressed myself impeccably instead of heeding her instructions. To flaunt my decision, I plan to walk right past her office and let her see me. I'm hoping she sees my rebellion as proof that I won't submit to her. If she hopes to repeat Friday's debauchery to me, the office will be full of potential witnesses. It'd be stupid to try, and she's definitely not stupid.
Tom's eating his breakfast when I arrive downstairs. He looks up at me and appears to do a double take.
"Wow," he comments. "Look at you!"
I giggle and spin for him, allowing him to see my tight-fitting dress and the way it hugs my figure. I admittedly don't have Linda's magazine cover physique or round bust, but I've dressed up what I do have.
"You look great," he says then thinks. "But don't you think it's a bit...dressy for work?" he frowns.
I narrow my eyes at him.
"Not really," I retort. "If you saw some of the stuff Linda wears to work, you'd think I'm auditioning to be a nun."
He laughs awkwardly. "Yes, I suppose so. But she is your boss. Being a boss usually comes with a higher level of privilege. And I'm not talking about Linda, I'm talking about you."
I shake my head at him in disbelief.
"Gabby, I'm not saying you don't look nice," he explains. "I just don't want you getting in trouble because you're wearing something that your boss may disapprove of. It's up to you. Wear whatever you want." I stay silent.
"I've got to go to work," he resigns, sensing my disappointment and standing from the table. "Hopefully I'm wrong. I'll see you later."
He kisses me on the cheek and leaves.
I quickly eat breakfast, then gather my bag and lunch and set off for work myself.
When I arrive at the office, it's closer to nine o'clock than is usual for me and I don't have time to do my 'point proving strut'.
I see Linda through her slatted blinds, staring out at me.
I head for my workspace and put my bag down on my chair before turning my computer on.
The internal phone on my desk begins to ring and I see from the information window that it's Linda's office calling me.
I stall to answer, hoping she'll give up. She doesn't. When I do answer, Linda speaks coldly.
"Get to my office now," she orders.
