chapter 1

Firstly licking the bullet’s tip, I get enough saliva on it to start me off. I press the button, activating the all too familiar buzzing sound that I’ve become used to. Greedy, I move the bullet straight towards my clitoris, circling it around and around. I just want a quick release, a quick escape. My mind drifts to thoughts of him. I imagine him taking me in his arms, kissing my neck, trailing his hot tongue down my body towards my n*****s and, eventually, my c**t. I grab my breast and gently pinch my n****e while holding the bullet in place, imagining him sucking and biting whilst teasing me with his fingers, moist from me. The thought of him pushes me closer to edge. I feel my hips begin to lift and shake as my body builds up. Waves of heat spreading from my clitoris across my entire body right down to the tips of my fingers and toes. I imagine him pushing his dick deep inside me, pinning me to the bed with his strong, muscular arms. Deeper and deeper until I burst into my orgasm, crying out moans of unbridled pleasure.

                As always, it doesn’t take me long to return to reality. Lay on the bed with a towel wrapped around my damp hair and another loosely covering my shoulders but leaving my breasts exposed, my bullet vibrator still buzzing in my hand, my mind wanders to thoughts of Joe and how he would react if he came in and saw me like this. He would be mortified to say the least. He’s never been interested in fun with toys in the bedroom despite my many attempts to introduce a few. God, just remembering the time I showed him the c**k ring I bought from an Ann Summers party and he stared at it in horror. All he managed to get out was “where does this bit go?” I wish he could just for once try these things with me. But, no. I have to resort to hiding this bloody vibrator in an old jewellery box that I know he would never look in.

Not just the view of me like this would mortify him though. If ever he found out how often I fantasise about other men, how often I fantasise about Luke… A stab of guilt envelopes me but I quickly suppress it away from my mind. I shouldn’t feel guilty, Joe treats me like s**t. The name-calling, his snappy tone and the childish way he sticks his fingers up at me behind my back during arguments, thinking I haven’t seen him. Twat. Just his general mood drives me insane. He is always miserable and moody and thinks it’s OK to come home from work and project all of that on to me. Well it isn’t.

But Luke… he is something else. Just thinking about him makes my heart race again. His dark brown hair combed and slicked back from his gorgeous face, revealing his deep blue, crystal eyes. His hands, big, strong and probably very skilled. The suits that he wears to work that simply frame his entire body and give him the intelligent, sophisticated appearance that attracts and entices not only me, but every other woman in the office. Just the way he stares so intently at me whenever I mention one of my ideas in the group meetings. Of course, he probably doesn’t really care what I’m saying, nor even know exactly what it is that I do in the office, but, during that moment, when his eyes are fixed on mine, my body fills with excitement and I can’t control the smile that creeps its way on to my face.

I pull myself away from my reverie to get out of bed and comb through my, now, almost dry and very knotty hair. I blast it with the hairdryer and then tie it back into a neat bun at the top of my head with a few stray curls dangling down over my face. I look at myself in the mirror, noticing that my cheeks appear very flushed and full of colour after masturbating and my hot shower this morning and so decide against blusher. I quickly apply some eye liner and a layer of mascara and after dabbing away the smudges with a cotton bud, I’m ready to get changed. Opting for the black pencil skirt with the slit up the back and the coral frilly blouse that accentuates my tits, I quickly dress, knowing that if I am to get his attention, this is the outfit I’m going to do it in. I slip into my black court shoes with the pointed toes, knowing that they will ultimately result in painful blisters and sore feet if I’m stood up for too long today. I grab my coral leather hand bag and my black fitted trench coat and head out the door and up the street to my car. 

I can’t be late today. Katherine Saville has agreed to meet with us to discuss our ideas and plans for the potential marketing campaign for her new line of ladies’ lingerie. I really hope that the meeting goes well and we secure her business as this is finally a line of products I feel connected to and excited to think of ideas for. Lately, all we have been focussed on at Future Thinking Marketing are products like sports equipment, car accessories and children’s toys, all products I simply have no drive or enthusiasm about. It’s so dull. The only thing that’s made the past few months bearable is how passionate and inspiring Luke becomes when he’s discussing his ideas. I really have become infatuated with him and he doesn’t even suspect a thing. But then again, why would he? I have never told him or let on that I have feelings for him and what’s more, everyone at the office is under the impression that I am happily engaged. I haven’t worked there long and so haven’t really gotten to know anybody well enough to discuss my problems with Joe. All they see is the 18 carat white gold, 1.5 carat diamond ring on my finger and make assumptions.

Then again, I was happy with Joe when I first started working there, or at least I thought I was. It’s only really recently that he has begun to treat me like s**t. He used to treat me like a princess. He would come home from work and plant a delicate kiss on my lips before asking me how my day had been and continuing to tell me about his. Now I’m lucky if I even get a hello out of him when he comes through the door. He just kicks his shoes off, slumps past me and walks directly towards the bathroom to strip out of his work clothes and shower. When he finally emerges from the shower, his mood is usually a little lighter, but it doesn’t last long. He’s soon back to being grumpy and nasty. Usually, I’ll be cooking our dinner and he will stomp into the kitchen and lean across the counter on his phone flicking though social media websites, not speaking a single word to me. If I so much as brush past him or kindly ask him to move out of the way so that I can get something from a drawer that he’s stood in the way of, he will just begin yelling at me, calling me all sorts of vile names. He goes on and on, and on and on, before eventually reaching a silence. Then about ten minutes later, he will finally apologise and continue as if nothing has happened.

It all began around the time we got engaged. The proposal was perfect. We had been together six years and I had been daydreaming about him proposing for almost a year before it finally happened. He had made subtle hints as we walked past jewellery shops whilst out shopping and on my birthday when he suggested that he wasn’t going to buy me any jewellery since he had a surprise in store for me very soon, I did have a sneaking suspicion. But as months passed after my birthday and our anniversary had been and gone, I began to think that it was all in my head. When the proposal finally came, I had no idea and it took me by total surprise.

It was just an ordinary Tuesday night and I had just got home from a long day at Uni. I felt tired and just wanted to get into my joggers, take off my make-up and slide into bed but Joe met me at the door with a bouquet of pink lilies (my favourite flowers) and a soft kiss and suggested that I get dressed and ready to go out for dinner. He had booked a table at the Sun Set Lounge for eight o’clock, the most romantic restaurant in town and yet I still didn’t suspect anything abnormal. When we got there he took my hand and held it tightly, stroking each knuckle as we were shown to our table. The lights were dimly lit and there was soft classical music playing in the background. As I looked around me, there were several couples enjoying their food, sipping at glasses of sancerre and prosecco and gazing deep into one another’s eyes, though none of them were as happy as we were. We had just finished our main course when the waiter brought over two champagne flutes and a bottle of Moet and Chandon Rose Imperial Champagne. All at once Joe was knelt beside me on one knee, open jewellery box in hand, asking me to marry him. His words still fresh in my mind. “I have loved you for many years and I will continue to love you for the rest of our lives together. I love you, Bethany. Will you be my wife?”

It wasn’t long before I realised I had made a huge mistake in accepting his proposal. It was as if as soon as we got engaged he felt as though he didn’t need to try any longer since he already had secured me. If anything, he was purposely trying to upset me or to make me feel like s**t. I knew he did love me as he had shown that he did for several years before we got engaged and so I felt it must just simply be a phase, a rough patch that we would work through together. I tried hard to make things return to the way they were but the months went by and nothing changed. Each day became harder and harder; I felt I had to tip-toe around him to make sure I didn’t upset him or anger him, still under the impression that things would ultimately change and get better.

Approaching the traffic lights at the crossroads just before the car park and finally seeing them change to green brings me out of my deep recollection of thoughts and my mind focuses on the task at hand: getting Katherine Saville on board in the meeting today. I glance at the clock in my car above my stereo and notice that it is only 8:45 and so I am right on time, despite the horrendous traffic congestion on the M60. I quickly park the car, jump out and stride along with a speedy pace, trying to avoid the hustle and bustle of the busy streets of Manchester, before reaching the office doors.  Once inside, I take a quick sigh of relief before heading straight for the elevators. Determined to get up to my office without being distracted by anybody before the meeting, I keep my eyes down, looking at the plans in my hand that I intend to discuss with Katherine, however, before I know it I’ve walked straight into somebody, dropping all of my paper in a scattered mess on the floor. I immediately look up to apologise and there he is. 

Reviews

[Ryan Yates]

Hey, good imagery there and the chapter ends really well and will make the reader want to read on.

1. i think maybe with the orgasm there is perhaps more details you can go into, rather than just say burst into orgasm. it is very detailed but you need your reader to really feel it. how does her skin feel, do her toes curl.
2. does guilt stop her from thinking of other men for a while until finally she lets him into her mind and it pushes her over. is this the first time she lets it happen, or does she remember when she wouldnt let herself think of other men.
3. the bit about fantasising about Joe proposing. the daydreams of him proposing have turned into daydreams of him leaving or daydreams of other men inside her.
4. When she is talking about Manchester etc. i would like to read more atmosphere about the city. is it raining. is getting to the office a relief from the outside.
5. she he sees her is she a mess from being outside, is she looking her best or worst or could she be rushing because she is late.
6. (if she is late) could the lateness be caused by the early morning bullet session. doing something like that would increase the urgency of the scene, increase her frustration. maybe make her blame joe even more, if he 'took care of her' then she would'nt be late.
7. I would expand on the walk to work / parking. i feel a disconnect here. i dont think it's quite enough to say manchester. I would like for you to describe the people, the street, the weather, the building she is going into, how does the city make her feel.

I'm writing too, please let me know what you think, we can chat a bit more about your stuff if you like.