Five Words

FIVE WORDS

 

 

 

Part Six: December

 

 

 

She thought she was about to cum … Whoa lady !

James jerked back so that his glistening erection slipped out of her pussy with a sloshing sound.

“Not yet, baby.” He murmured, pecking her earlobe, fingers releasing her nipples, removing all contact with her erogenous zones.

She hissed in frustration. He smiled down at the pretty curve of her spine as she arched her back and reversed into him, hungrily seeking his dick.

Time to start working for a living lady.

He grasped her shoulders and gently guided her around on the large bed so she was facing him. He kissed her, then glanced meaningfully down at his jutting shaft.

“Kiss me, baby.” He urged her quietly but firmly. “There.”

A shadow flitted across her brown eyes and for a split second her aroused smile twisted into a grimace. But she blinked and opened her lips.

“Sure.”

He watched her lower her head and scoot back on the sheets so she could take him in her mouth. For a few seconds she kind of nibbled the crown, like she was sampling it, then he impatiently pushed down on her head and felt her struggling to absorb his girth.

She hadn’t blown him since Rome. He knew she wasn’t keen. But that’s why he had to push her, test her.

Because if she wasn’t prepared to do a small thing like suck his dick, then she sure as hell wasn’t going to do a big thing like come up with the cash.

 

 

Ingrid smiled across at Lou.

In front of them, Mart was bound tightly to a metal ladder. The ladder itself was pointing almost straight up, leaning at just a slight incline against the ceiling beam in the centre of the room. Ropes secured it firmly in place.

They had tied Mart’s ankles standing on the second lowest rung, with his outstretched wrists tied to the second highest rung. Strong garden twine also bound his knees, waist, underarms, neck and elbows into a rigid standing position along the ladder.

He was now helpless and vulnerable. His buttocks and back were presented like slabs of meat at a butcher’s. And through the ladder’s slats, his face, nipples and genitals were framed by the metal squares like sculptures at an art gallery.

Ingrid studied Mart’s eyes. Green. You could tell so much from eyes. Unlike lips, eyes never lie. He was fearful and she liked that. It made her feel … good.

Both women reached out and fingered Mart’s dangling scrotum and penis. Shrunken with nerves.

“Eshtraordinary.” Lou slurred.

Ingrid smirked at her. She and Lou had this kind of open relationship. Not lesbian. Not even occasionally bi, really. But they discussed everything totally honestly with each other. Especially sex. And that had led to a bit of experimentation. Lou’s delicate, brunette looks appealed to Ingrid.

“What ?” she asked.

“How harmless dicks look when they’re shoft.” Lou was slightly drunk.

Ingrid chuckled in agreement. “Yes.”

She ran her red fingernail under Mart’s balls and watched his eyes. His dick twitched and his pupils widened.

Cute. But she didn’t want him to know that. She had already decided that Mart would make her perfect third – and final – husband. A marriage totally on her terms at last. Mart had sold one successful company. He could build her another. It was silly wasting him on minimum wage restaurant work.

And Mart was hardly going to divorce her for any infidelities, was he ?

Kelly had taken the genie out of the bottle and done her best. But now it was time for Ingrid to take over the reins.

All that was required was for Kelly and James to fall in love and then Ingrid could pick up the pieces.

She smiled down dreamily at Mart’s now hardened shaft, then gazed at the apprehensive longing in his green eyes. She turned to her friend.

“You ever heard of CBT, Lou ?”

 

 

James smiled down absent-mindedly as Kelly gurgled and salivated on his dick. He could tell it had become a question of pride for her now. She wanted to show him she could give him as good a time as some hot chick half her age. It wasn’t even about her orgasm any more. It was about his.

He pushed strands of her hair aside so he could watch his thick sausage disappearing and emerging in a nice easy rhythm.

Like taking candy from kids.

His mind returned to the important question. How to get from this point, the fun part, to his real goal, the money ?

He had until January 31^st but the weeks were racing by and this lady wasn’t a gullible fashion model like Simone. She wasn’t just going to write him a cheque for three million pounds. He’d have to extract it skilfully.

He put his finger under her chin and raised her head up so he could kiss her lips. It was time to put her out of her misery.

He eased her back down onto the bed and mounted her. He pushed her legs up high, outside his extended arms, as he took his weight above her, giving her the full deep penetration treatment. She groaned, gripping the headboard, as he fucked her. She was excited, wet, almost loose around him.

“Mmm … you’re so tight, baby.” He whispered.

He focused briefly on his task. He played her like a musical instrument, sawing in and out, eliciting a crescendo of shrieks from her gasping mouth, her head back, eyes rolling, until she’d reached not one, not two, but three successive climaxes. The real rag doll treatment !

Eventually, she descended from her state of semi-consciousness.

“You didn’t cum.” She said, nibbling her lower lip.

He smiled down at her with his mouth.

“Nor does your husband.”

She made a face. “That’s different.”

He shrugged. “Your pleasure is the most important thing.”

Another shadow passed across her uncertain gaze.

He grinned inwardly. All chicks hate it when you say that.

“What do you want ?” she asked. “I’ll try. Name it. Anything.”

He chuckled outwardly. Softly, softly, catchee monkey.

“You may regret saying that.”

Just for a moment he thought about suggesting her finishing the blowjob she’d started, or trying anal, but those treats could wait. He wouldn’t waste the opportunity on sex yet. Now he had an intro to the subject of an … ‘investment opportunity’ instead.

He was still inside her. Slowly he started building a rhythm again, like a train chugging out of a station, increasing speed.

It had been a stroke of fortune meeting Kelly at the tennis club. A few days before they met, he had thankfully been found ‘not guilty’ of fraud and taking illegal backhanders, in an investigation into several Premiership transfers he’d been involved in. However, the Revenue nevertheless required the small matter of £4 ½ million in back taxes and penalty interest on various offshore payments that had been undisclosed.

Three million pounds of which he didn’t have available.

He hammered into her, unleashing a healthy downpayment into Kelly’s MILF cunt. In a few weeks, once he’d achieved his main goal, he could start having some fun. She thought she was in control, heh ? Well, nobody bosses James Pettigrew lady. Soon enough she’d be doing some nice kinky stuff in between him loaning her tits and ass out to his clients.

And for some strange reason, as he slowly pulled his softening dick out of her squishy cunt, his mind flashed to Mart, back home, unaware that James was not only going to fuck royally with his wife.

He was going to be paid handsomely for doing so.

“What are you grinning at ?” she asked him, as he glanced down.

“Me ? Just at how lucky I am to have met you.”

 

Mart lay slumped against the ladder. His body quivered, drenched in a sheen of sweat. At last the physical pain had receded into a feeling of mere discomfort but, now he could think properly, the mental anguish had increased to compensate.

The enormous vibrator was finally switched off, but it was still wedged all the way up into his rectum, with electrical tape holding it in. He was an anal virgin no more. It was something Kelly had teased him with but never done. She had known deep down that it was a measure of his manliness.

But Ingrid knew none of that. Or wasn’t interested.

An hour earlier, she and her friend had delighted in showing him the shiny pink toy. Holding it up to their forearms so he could compare its huge size. Setting it buzzing, gyrating and sensuously coating it with lubricant.

It had taken them several minutes of pulling his butt apart, pushing it in, cajoling and berating him. He’d groaned, cried, begged, to no avail. Every muscle, every resistance point was overcome, until it was all the way in, making him feel as if he’d been constipated for weeks.

“What are you smiling at ?” Lou asked Ingrid.

Their excited faces were inches from his, studying him.

“I’m thinking that if he makes that much fuss about a vibe, I wonder what he’ll be like when it’s a real dick.”

“No !” Lou giggled. “You wouldn’t !”

“Sure I would. I was thinking Kevin.”

“Kevin. Of coursh.”

With the vibrator buzzing and churning at full speed in his guts, they had turned their alcohol-fuelled attentions to his helpless genitals. Mart shuddered when he saw the bright red tube with fiery lettering.

Deep Heat.

Maximum Strength.

Ingrid held the tube up to his face and read the details aloud to him; a cream emulsion containing 8% menthol, for the relief of muscular pain and stiffness.

“And,” she licked her lips suggestively, “the treatment of other types of stiffness too.”

She squeezed a generous dollop onto the palm of her hand and another dose onto Lou’s fingers. Then both women began massaging his cock and balls. Ingrid slowly painted every inch of his penis while Lou pushed her fingers underneath his legs coating from his prostate to his scrotum. Ingrid was careful to apply plenty to his crown and squished some into his urethra, while Lou massaged each tender testicle in turn.

In seconds, his skin had ignited, like a campfire sparking. Slowly the heat began to build, before momentum increased, and suddenly the fire was ablaze, and every nerve ending in his groin had become an inferno.

He howled, beads of sweat sprouting from his forehead. The heat was like a forest fire, travelling up his spinal column, so that he felt as if his entire body was covered in the Deep Heat cream. His eyes watered.

Through blurred vision, he could see Ingrid and Lou making faces at him, imitating his expressions. They were blowing out their cheeks, rolling their eyeballs, as if they themselves had eaten a terribly spicy curry.

He managed to peer down at his penis. He was surprised to see it was still erect, throbbing, although he couldn’t feel it. It was as if it had been cut off and a burning torch attached in its place.

“Please …” he gasped at them “stop the pain. I can’t bear it.”

“Oh but you can.” He heard Ingrid reply through the cymbals clashing in his ears. She lifted a hand to cup his cheek. “You have no choice.”

He watched them withdrawing to the sofa, where they could still see him, but in comfort. They refilled their glasses, adding loads of ice. Ingrid pressed the remote and music filled the room.

The Red Hot Chilli Peppers ! Hah fucking hah.

He screwed his eyes shut, unable to look. The continued churning of the vibrator in his rectum and the flames in his groin were overwhelming.

It was hard to breathe. Impossible to think or move. He just stood there, gasping, sweating, hurting.

For almost an hour.

 

 

It was midnight. Kelly and James had been to the theatre on Broadway. They were now finishing their spicy, after-theatre Thai dinner.

“You seem a bit distracted.” She said, breaking the silence.

In fact, he’d been a nightmare ever since their afternoon bout of sex. She suspected that he was pissed at her for not giving better head.

Well fuck him ! Mart had put up with her for twenty years including her lack of interest in the finer points of fellatio.

“Do I ? Sorry. Just a business opportunity I’m mulling over in my mind.”

She watched him sip his coffee distractedly. He had barely bothered to disguise his boredom during the play. He was a sports fan not a theatre buff, he’d explained, during the interval.

“The check, please.” He said to a passing waiter.

She glanced round the restaurant at the couples and groups around them; faces in animated conversation, laughing, listening. She remembered the last time she’d been to the theatre, in London, with Mart, back in June.

Just a few weeks before her world had turned upside down.

“Fancy going to a club ?” he asked.

It took her a moment to register what he’d said. She was thinking how she and Mart always enjoyed analysing a play afterwards.

“Um …”

“Come on.” He urged, suddenly enthusiastic. “I know a great place.”

“Er … okay.”

When the waiter came with the bill, she watched James ostentatiously remove several $100 bills from a large roll and drop them on the tray.

Well at least he wasn’t after her for her money.

 

The club was the sort of place Kelly had never much liked; too many flashing lights, too much noise, difficult to speak and impossible to hear. Sweaty young bodies crammed jiving and flirting up against each other.

James pulled her through the throng to an area that was a little quieter with softer lighting and topless waitresses wearing cat-masks.

“Great, huh ?” he shouted into her ear.

She nodded.

“Two Vodkatinis.” He said to one of the well-endowed waitresses.

The bar area was less packed than the dance floors but still crowded. A throng of beautiful people hung out, male and female; each was more gorgeous, better dressed and youthful than the next.

She couldn’t help noticing that James attracted several sly looks from young women, but in turn only a solitary middle aged, executive type had undressed her with his bespectacled eyes.

“See that girl.” James whispered loudly right into her ear.

A gorgeous black girl was standing at the bar, slightly aloof, apparently unaccompanied. She seemed to be staring straight back at Kelly.

He grinned. “She likes you.”

Kelly gulped.

“You’ve tried a two-man threesome.” He winked. “Now how about a two-woman threesome ?”

She stared at him.

“You said this afternoon, ‘anything’. Well, why not ?”

Without waiting, James gestured to the black girl.

Kelly watched the beauty doing one of those corny ‘who me ?’ acts, before finally sidling over. She walked with the exaggerated, sensuous gait of a catwalk model.

James stood up, kissing her hand, ushering her into an empty seat.

“Hi.” He said. “I’m James. And this is Kelly.”

The girl flashed them both a brilliant smile. “Hi. My name’s Simone.”

“We’re pleased to meet you, Simone.” He said. “Aren’t we Kelly ?”

 

By now, it was dawn in England, and Ingrid was fast asleep in her four poster. Mart was curled up on the floor at the foot of the bed like a dog.

A thunderstorm was rattling the bedroom windows, and occasional flashes of lightning sliced through a gap in the curtains like a white knife. A particularly loud clap of thunder woke her. She’d been enjoying a naughty dream about the first night of her honeymoon with Mart and she stared into the darkness, momentarily disorientated.

She lay there, getting her breath. She could feel the warmth between her legs and her nipples brushed against the sheet. In the dream she’d been enjoying an orgy with Lou, Kelly and James while Mart watched them all.

Up to that point, she had not considered using Mart sexually. He was a toy to play with, a potential husband and support, but not a sexual partner.

She could hear his steady breathing below her feet.

Give in to it, she thought. You know you want to.

“Mart.” She called, over the noise of the rain. “Wake up.”

She heard him stir. Seconds later she was able to make out his silhouette standing in the murky light.

“Come here.”

She threw back the covers to make a space for him. He stood by the bed.

“Still pissed with me ?” she asked, an amused tone in her voice.

“… No … Ma’am.” He eventually replied.

“Climb onto the bed.”

She shifted so he could join her.

“Kelly told me you’re good with your mouth. Is that true ?”

“… I … h … hope so, Ma’am.”

“Well, let’s see, shall we ?”

She raised her knees and parted them, making a tent with the covers. Mart slowly shuffled under them and she felt him getting into position.

Then a bolt of lightning illuminated the room as his lips zapped her moist heat.

Maybe this was the way to go after all ? She lay back on the bed, head nestled in the pillow, and gave into the sensations. He was pretty good.

Where are you Kel, girl ? Hope you’re having fun ! Cos’ I am.

 

 

“Give in to it.” James urged. “No man can do it like another woman.”

Kelly was laying back on their hotel bed. James was cradling her head in his hands, kissing her on the lips, while Simone was hunched between her thighs, teasing her with butterfly kisses.

She felt her knees being eased further apart, raising her hips. She slowly gave in to the sensations. It was no longer a woman’s mouth.

Just lips, tongue, probing, wet, skilled.

Suddenly James was no longer kissing her. She was vaguely aware of him lowering his pants and then suddenly his great slab of meat was in her face again, homing in on her mouth.

She gave in and shifted her head so she could suckle him. Dimly, she saw his hands also stroking Simone’s frizzy hair, to her shoulders. His torso glowed in the lamplight, rippling abdomen like a squared chocolate bar.

Two minutes went by as they made a noisy but wordless tableau; a slurping, gasping triangle of half-dressed, vodka-infused flesh.

Smiling, James leaned, eased his erection from her lips and nodded, as if to say; thanks for the warm up act.

She watched in silence as he walked around Simone, crouched on the bed, and mounted her from behind in one smooth movement.

Simone’s hot breath tickled Kelly’s clitoris as she groaned. The snaking tongue slithered agonizingly slowly up each millimetre of her labia. Somehow, the girl seemed able to keep her constantly on the brink of the abyss.

But Kelly also felt irrelevant, an appendage to two people fucking. She looked up at James in the lamplight and saw a different expression on his face as he teased himself and Simone with his magic wand.

They looked so good together. Like lovers, not one-nighters. He hadn’t even used a condom.

In Rome, the thrill of illicit sex had made her feel liberated. Lust as it was meant to be. She’d been glad she’d tried a new experience. But here in New York, underneath the current hazy buzz of booze and sex, she knew this was a little sordid. A nagging hangover would linger in the morning.

And then she saw something she’d never seen. James lost it. His grimace of ecstasy and agony, of disappointment and thrill, as he realised he had unintentionally past the point of no return. For ten long seconds he groaned in release.

Simone took it in her stride, glancing up for a split second at Kelly, giving her a cheeky reassuring grin, then continued her teasing licks.

Eventually James was standing by the bed again, slime glistening from the tip of his sagging erection.

“Come.” He said, gently lifting Kelly’s head.

Then he manoeuvred Simone too, tugging her waist around.

He wanted them both in a 69 position.

Simone’s slim, muscled legs nestled either side of Kelly’s ribs. Then, super-slowly, she lowered her haunches.

No, no, no ! Kelly wanted to scream.

But she didn’t. She just lay there. At least the girl was beautiful. Her dark skin smelt of lavender and musk, flesh tight in a swirl of mysterious curves and hollows. Her pubic mound was shaved completely hairless. Her wetness glistened like molten chocolate.

“Try it. You’ll love it.”

James’s smirking face was inches away from her, watching.

Then darkness enveloped her.

 

 

At ten o’clock, Mart brought Ingrid a tray with breakfast in bed; tea, juice, cereal, sliced fruit. He’d even found a small vase and put a single flower in it.

She patted the bed after he’d placed the tray down.

“Sit here.”

He’d dressed in the high heels, miniskirt, and tight top she’d given him the evening before. She chuckled at his appearance.

“I need to tell you something Mart.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“I spoke to Kelly yesterday. I’m afraid she’s not coming back.”

His mouth fell open like a fish. “But …”

“Shhh.” She said. “Of course she’s coming back. But not as planned. You see, after Hawaii, they’re going to Las Vegas. For the Christmas holidays and New Year.”

Mart nodded, apparently relieved.

She smiled at him kindly. “You ever been to Vegas, Mart ?”

He shook his head. “No, Ma’am.”

“Great place. Fun capital of the globe.”

She paused, taking a sip of her tea.

“And you know what else. It’s the wedding capital of the world too.”

He frowned. She placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Kelly is going to marry James, Mart.”

He stared at her, face crumbling, and then put his head in his hands.

“I’m afraid that, as of yesterday Mart, you are already legally divorced !”

 

 

Kelly lay awake in the dark, listening to the even breathing of James and Simone next to her in the large King bed.

The digital clock said 05.15. A quarter past ten in England.

She thought of using the phone in the ensuite bathroom to call Ingrid.

What was it that Joan had said ? Joan was an old friend of Mart’s who’d run off with a younger guy after fifteen years of marriage and three lovely kids. Six months later she’d come slinking back, asking for forgiveness. A while later, after too many drinks, Kelly had asked Joan why it hadn’t worked out with her boyfriend.

Joan replied wistfully; ‘he didn’t know the jokes’.

Point being that Joan and her husband knew the punch lines and when to laugh. They could recount a funny story or memory and collapse about giggling without any effort. They shared history, music, friends, senses of humour. But once when Joan tried to recount to her boyfriend an amusing thing that had happened to them all in Key West back when Jamie was a toddler, the guy just gawped at her.

For a while, sex with him had been great. But he didn’t know the jokes.

Now, lying in this strange hotel bed across the Atlantic, Kelly was starting to understand what Joan meant.

 

Kelly marry James ? Divorced ?

For a moment Mart thought he’d misheard. He kept his head in his hands, hoping he could control his tears but he couldn’t. His worst fears had been realised. He’d been stupid to imagine otherwise. He’d lost everything; wife, daughter, life, self respect.

“Look at me, Mart.”

He opened his fingers, wiping his eyes.

“I have one final bit of news.”

He watched her take another sip of tea, evidently enjoying the moment.

“Kelly gave you to me … for keeps.”

He stared at her. A huge thumping pounded his chest.

“Unless you’d rather be out on the street, penniless ?”

 

The next afternoon, James kissed Simone goodbye outside the deli after their quick lunch ‘a deux’.

“See you in Chicago.”

His young, long suffering girlfriend pouted. “Not tonight ?”

“Nope. She might get suspicious. Can’t take any risks darling.”

He took a Yellow cab back to the Mercer and walked to the Reception for his key.

“Any messages ?”

The clerk handed him a note. It was from Kelly. Short and to the point.

‘Do not come after me.”

Five Words !

James scowled and crushed the note into a tiny paper ball.

Damn ! Time to revert to Plan B.

 

Kelly sat in the airline lounge and dialled her daughter Chantal to say she’d be arriving in LA a day early. Then she called Ingrid.

“Hi. It’s me, Kel.”

“Hi ! How’s things over there ? All still going well ?”

“Er … fine. Just changing plans a little. How are things your end ?”

“Great. We’re getting along fine too. Mart’s well. He was a bit upset to start with but … you know. He’s coming round. You never told me how much fun having somebody like him about could be !”

“Didn’t I ?” Kelly bit her lip. “I’m thinking of cutting the trip short.”

“Oh ? You don’t want to do that. Have fun ! Enjoy those Hawaiian nights with your man.”

“Er … umm. So things are fine with you ?”

Kelly figured she could extend her stay in LA a bit.

“Absolutely. Getting better all the time. I’m doing as you asked. Pushing things.”

“Shall I have a quick word with him ?”

“He’s busy, Kel. To be honest I think it might throw him if he speaks to you so soon. Why don’t you call us again in a few days ?”

A boarding announcement drowned out further conversation.

“Okay then.” Kelly shouted. “And Ingrid, er … thanks again.”

“A pleasure dear. Bye !”

 

Ingrid clicked off the phone.

Mart was kneeling at her feet with a bowl of hot water, a pedicure set, cream and nail varnish. He had kissed and sucked each of her toes in turn. Now he was washing, clipping, filing and creaming them. Finally he would paint each one. Throughout her conversation with Kelly, his head had remained lowered.

She was naked but for her towelling robe hanging open. She felt more comfortable being naked with him now. Her breasts were visible and her thighs parted. She could tell, with satisfaction, the effect her nudity had on him.

“I think you should write to Kelly and James.”

He looked up.

“She’s obviously a bit concerned about you. You should write and reassure her. Tell her you’re thrilled for her. Thank him for making her happy. And tell them that you would like to stay with me after they’ve returned. It’s all sorted. Yes ?”

She studied him. Slowly he nodded, turning back to her little toe.

“I will dictate. You just write.”

She lapsed into silence.

In truth, she was disquieted by her conversation with Kelly. Not exactly as enthusiastic as she’d hoped. Still, she’d continue with her plan. The next few days would be crucial. Perhaps she might even fuck him ? Just once. Just to bait the hook. Who knows, she might even enjoy it. Her random blend of regular abuse and occasional kindness was designed to break Mart’s resolve. He would face a choice between staying but being abused, or leaving and losing everything.

 

“You remember Will ?” Ingrid said.

Mart curtseyed. He remembered him from the dinner party when he was first ‘outed’.

Five days had passed since the terrible morning when he’d learned he was divorced. Five more difficult days of chores and ordeals, petty humiliations and unpleasant tasks. He’d barely slept and had felt light headed, unable to get used to the idea of a future like this.

When had it all spun out of control ?

What was that phrase; ‘power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely’. Essentially saying that a person’s sense of morality lessens as his or her power increases.

He’d given Kelly absolute power. She’d handed Ingrid absolute power. And they’d used it to fuck his life. The truth was that Ingrid was exciting in a professional Fem Domme kind of way. Pay her by the hour and she’d offer any sub male punter value for money.

But there was no romance, no eros, no love, like there had been with Kelly in those early months.

And now he’d lost the love of his life forever.

 

Mart stood to attention, wrists crossed behind his back, as Ingrid flexed the plastic 12 inch ruler. Will and Lou sat of the sofa watching, interested.

Outside, wet snowflakes had started to fall, although they weren’t sticking on the ground. There were just 13 days to Christmas.

“Sing us a carol.” Ingrid chuckled. “O come all ye faithful ! Rather an ironic choice, but I like that one.”

Mart started to sing.

They all smiled at his embarrassment.

After the first line, Ingrid lashed the ruler across his bruised, scabbed, sore erection.

He whimpered. “J … joyful and tr … iumphant …”

She thrashed him again. It landed with a hot splat across his throbbing vein, making his penis bounce. A previous cut had opened and was weeping.

“O come ye, o c … come ye, to B …”

He howled, doubling over, as the plastic slapped him in the balls. Somehow he managed to control his hands from tearing the ruler out of her grip.

She waited patiently, blue eyes on him, as he got his breath back.

“Come and behold …” he gasped.

A piercing doorbell rent the air, saving him from more pain, at least for a moment. Ingrid shrugged and carefully placed the ruler down, making it clear she hadn’t finished with it.

“Excuse me a moment everybody. Won’t be long.”

He watched her rise, heard the echo of her heels going to the front door.

Will and Lou ignored him, chatting quietly together.

A wave of nausea caught in his throat. He realised just how much he dreaded the clack, clack of her heels returning in a few moments.

And then the most extraordinary thing happened.

Kelly burst into the room. She looked amazing. A bit tired but beautiful, dressed in a stunning winter coat, eyes blazing with anger.

“What the fuck is this ?” she snapped.

Perhaps the five most beautiful, glorious words he’d ever heard.

 

 

End of Part Six

A New Year dawns in Part Seven (“January”)

to be posted in one week’s time