by Turner, V T
5 Days a Week: Tuesday
V T Turner
Copyright © V T Turner 2013
[email protected]
Also by V T Turner
My Paid Angel
Troubled
Sinister Touch
Good, Bad, Girl
Betrayed
Voyeur
Forbidden
The Interview
Part 1: Morning
Amber Matthews
Amber was tired. She could barely keep her eyes open. She hadn’t slept a wink, had spent the night staring at the wardrobe, knowing that her lover was locked inside and wondering if and when she should get him out.
She had tried a few times. The first time had been at midnight. She crept out of bed, opened the door for him. She saw his face in the moonlight. Despite having been locked in a cramped wardrobe for hours, despite sitting slumped and half naked, being forced to listen to his lover as she had sex with her husband, he had a bright and warm smile on his face. It melted her heart, but her heart then jumped in shock when she heard her husband stir behind her, heard him mumble to her. She shut the door quickly.
“What’re you doing?” he wanted to know.
She grinned back, his eyes were squinted closed and it was dark, he wouldn’t be able to see, nor would he have been able to see the obvious guilt that she had hid behind her grin. He was awake, so he wanted sex. She pleased him, giving him what he wanted in the hope it would send him straight to sleep, but he didn’t drift off for another hour.
She had tried again when she heard him snoring but he caught her before she clambered out of bed. She hoped Phillips would escape of his own volition, but in the morning, when she went to him after her husband jumped in the shower, she discovered why Phillips hadn’t tried to escape. He was fast asleep.
She roused him with a shove, he woke up startled, his wide eyes bearing into hers. He seemed confused at first, as if unsure where he was. He smiled at her, kissed her, noted the horror and haste on her face and then it dawned on him.
“Shit,” he hissed.
He hopped out of the wardrobe. He was naked from the waist down, his clothes still bundled in the wardrobe with him. She couldn’t help but admire him, couldn’t help but reach for him. She was scantily clad herself, nothing but the nightdress that her husband adored do much. She put a hand on his thigh, felt the firm muscle there, the thin tickling hairs. They kissed and embraced, she felt his penis stir, felt it harden against her thigh.
She allowed him to push her up against the wall, allowed him to brush up her nightdress and sink his cock inside her. She was already wet, already waiting for him. She had been with her husband mere hours before, he had heard, but he didn’t seem to mind, didn’t seem able to restrain himself. She stopped him when he began to thrust, she moved backwards, away from his desperate cock.
She put a finger to his lips when he moved back towards her and tried to kiss her.
“No time,” she said. She could still hear her husband in the shower, he didn’t usually take long, unless he was with her in there, and even then he was barely more than a few minutes. “Go,” she told him.
He gave her a long stare. She saw the desperation, the eagerness in his eyes. They both turned their heads as they heard the shower shut off, listened as Ian Matthews opened the shower door; heard his footsteps on the en suite flooring.
“Go,” Amber hissed.
Phillips turned on his heel and left, taking his clothes with him. She heard him rush across the landing, then creep down the stairs. She turned to the en suite doorway as her husband appeared, naked and dripping. He had a grin on his face and he had an erection. She sighed internally, knowing that he wanted her again and wishing that she had time to be with Phillips instead.
Ian Matthews
It was another bright morning, another good day. He was fully sexed-out. His wife had been restless all night, he remembered waking a few times, remembered having sex with her on at least one occasion. It felt like a dream, almost unreal, but he knew that if it was a dream, it wouldn’t have been his wife he was fucking. She was standard, easy, obtainable and boring. She was still fuckable of course, something that didn’t escape his attention in the shower when he stood under the hot jets of water, getting excited as he thought abut her tits.
She seemed a little off when he fucked her after the shower, but she came quickly and was very wet and ready for him, which was ideal, as he hadn’t been in the mood for foreplay. She had been the same the night before. She had probably been thinking about him, wanting him, just as he had thought about her on his way home in the car.
He drove himself to the office. He had a driver, someone he paid to do the job for him, but he liked to do it himself. He felt it gave him more freedom and he knew it gave him more control. He liked to be in control.
He winked at Simone as he entered the building. “Morning sexy.”
She wasn’t as happy as the previous day; wasn’t as annoyed as she had been after he slept with her and spread his fluid on her tits and her blouse. She had a wry smile on her face, a curious glimmer in her eyes. He advanced to the desk, mistook her expression for horniness.
“Fancy…” he tilted his head towards the toilets opposite the desk. “You know…” he finished with a wink.
She stared at him for a moment, her wry expression changed to a look of contempt and distaste. She seemed to be weighing him up. Eventually she slowly shook her head.
He was disappointed. He’d had sex a few times already in the last twelve hours, but the pills that Doctor Phillips had given him spiked his sexual appetite to teenage levels. “Are you sure?” he pushed. He had already banked on her saying yes, had already started to get into the mood.
“Positive,” she affirmed.
“Oh,” he groaned, sagged a little. “It won’t take long--”
“No,” she hissed, the glimmer now gone from her eyes. Replaced entirely by contempt.
“Fine,” he snapped in the tone of a child who hadn’t gotten his way. He knew he would have to satisfy himself but he didn’t mind, masturbation was still exciting and enjoyable and he had a large collection of porn on his laptop which would make it even more enjoyable.
He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, pulled it out to see he had a message from Sissy, his young and horny assistant; someone who would give him what he wanted. She was better than porn.
“I actually need to have a word with you,” Simone said as Ian studied his phone.
He looked at her, sneering out of the corner of his eyes. He had no interest in her or what she wanted, not now that he knew it had nothing to do with sex. He opened the message and felt his heart sink when he read it. He cursed under his breath and began to quickly move away.
“A word?” Simone called after him. “It’s important!”
“Not now!” Ian shouted back, already on the stairs, the door slamming shut behind him.
Sissy
Sissy had struggled to sleep all night, her mind whirring with thoughts of Ian, Amber and Shelly. She conspired and worried; plotted and pondered. Then she began to worry about the baby. She loved Ian and she knew he felt the same way, but she didn’t think he wanted a kid. He was old, probably beyond the years of procreation and he hadn’t had one yet, so what were the odds he would want one with her? She settled on the hope that he would want one with her because he loved her; that he had never loved, or even liked, his wife and that was why he had never had a baby with her.
She finally drifted off in the early hours of the morning, her sleep plagued with horrible dreams. She dreamt that she had lost Ian, that he dismissed her
and went back to his wife after she told him about the baby. She dreamt that he took her job, her house and left her on the street. She had surreal, suffering dreams after that; her sleep was far from peaceful.
When she finally awoke she was a mess and she knew she had to tell him. She had to get it off her chest, the worrying wasn’t doing her any favors. She was still suffering from morning sickness and that, along with the strains of work and maintaining a relationship that technically didn’t exist, was eating her soul.
She texted him when she was hunched over the toilet. She was going to be late for work again, she wasn’t due in early but he liked her in so he could screw her before everyone else arrived. She planned to text him to tell him she would be late, give him a feeble excuse, but as soon as her fingers began to type she got carried away with herself. She regretted what she had written after she hit ‘send’ but the deed was done.
She experienced another flood of nausea, this one from the worry more than the morning sickness. She was still retching when the phone rang in her hand.
Mark
He hadn’t slept much. He’d stayed awake, angry at himself and at Sissy. He’d never liked her very much. She was stuck-up. She thought that she was better than everyone else just because she was fucking the boss. He’d known girls like her at high school, the prim and proper tarts who excelled at everything, looked down on everyone and eventually ended up pregnant or sleeping with the English teacher. He’d avoided her, ignored her, but after last night, after she’d interrupted his time with Shelly -- the girl he was obsessed with, the girl he was sure he was destined to be with -- he couldn’t ignore her anymore.
He was still annoyed when he woke from what little sleep he had, but he tried to push the hatred down; tried to concentrate on the day ahead. He would see Shelly again, that was always a plus; that thought sustained him, kept a smile on his face as he ate breakfast, showered and headed to the office.
The smile didn’t fade from his face when he noticed that Simone seemed to be grinning like a crazy woman at the front desk; it didn’t fade when he noticed Shelly hadn’t shown up with the others and forced himself to chatter idly with them, all the while looking out for her; it didn’t fade when he saw his boss and tried to offer him a friendly smile only to be rebuffed by an aggressive and unwarranted outburst -- Matthews was clearly pissed off at something. The smile did fade when, an hour into the morning, Shelly was nowhere to be seen.
She hadn’t shown up for work.
Simone
She had all the dirt on her boss that she could have dreamed of getting: crystal clear video of him fucking her in the office. Now it was just a question of how she played the game. She spent all night working it out but didn’t really come to any sound conclusion. It wasn’t a spur of the moment thing, she had planned it for a while, but most of her efforts had gone into the dirty deed itself -- forcing herself to go through with it, finding the right moment when he was horny and they were alone -- and she hadn’t thought of what to do afterwards.
She was still trying to work it out in the morning when he came to her desk and hit on her, hoping to stick his desperate and tiny cock in her again.
She stared at him with contempt. God, how she hated him. He was everything that was wrong with the world. He had a lot of money and no idea how to spend it; a beautiful wife and a gorgeous girlfriend and no idea how to treat them; status and power, with no intention of using them for good. He was an egotistical, disgusting human being who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as anyone else. Since she had started working in the office she had seen him fritter away his life and his relationships, had watched as he skirted the law and every grain of common decency and came out the other end still smelling of roses with an army of sycophants and lovers still ready to bend over and call him god whilst he fucked them. It was despicable, disgusting and when she saw the horny glint in his eye, she decided that she would just play the game there and then. There was no need to pussyfoot around it, no chance of being anonymous and no point in playing it cool; she was going to blackmail him, pure and simple, there was no safe way around it.
“I actually need to have a word with you,” she told him after he had stomped his feet like a petulant child who’d been refused a bag of sweets.
He seemed distracted by his phone. He hadn’t got what he wanted, hadn’t been able to stick his tiny dick inside her and now he had lost interest. He was probably texting a hooker, hoping to pay for his morning fuck now that Simone wasn’t giving him one for free. There was Sissy of course, but she, like Simone, clearly couldn’t stand the thought of being with the sweaty prick this morning.
He seemed alarmed by his phone and quickly hurried away as Simone called to him.
“A word? It’s important!”
She grumbled under her breath as he disappeared. She muttered a few curses in his wake.
Eventually the wry smile returned to her face. She didn’t need to rush, she’d been waiting a long time to get what she had, now that she had it she could just sit back and wait for the right moment to strike.
Ian Matthews
I can’t hold back any longer. We need to talk.
That was the message from Sissy. She was finally going to do it. She had been threatening him since the start of their relationship, since their first couple of passionate fucks had turned into something more consistent.
“I have to tell your wife.” She had first said those words just after they had finished having sex, when he was still grinning from the orgasm, still out of breath, still feeling the pain of her fingernails in the flesh on his back. He dismissed it then, and every time after that. He told her she was being stupid when she insisted that his wife needed to know, tried his best to brush her off when she said that if he wanted to be with her, he needed to break up with his wife. He thought he was keeping her at bay by lying to her about Amber, telling her that they didn’t get on and didn’t sleep together anymore, perhaps implying that he was ready to divorce her without Sissy’s say-so, but she had clearly lost patience.
They had nothing to talk about except that and, as he had already warned her that he didn’t want to discuss it again, it was obvious that she was going straight to Amber.
He stormed into his office, slammed a fist against his desk. He didn’t mind that Simone had turned him down before, he wasn’t horny anymore, he had more important issues at hand. He tried to calm himself, keen not to lose his nerve with Sissy.
He phoned her up.
He was breathing heavily into the phone, listening to it ring. Once, twice, three times, four times. She wasn’t answering.
“Come on, come on,” he mumbled to the device.
He held it out, checked he was calling the right number. He was, but she wasn’t picking up. He knew she had the phone on her, she had just used it to text him. If she wasn’t answering then that could only mean that--
He gulped, paused; the blood draining out of his head and for once not ending up in his penis.
Sissy was ignoring him because she had already made up her mind. She was going to get in touch with Amber whether Ian wanted her to or not.
Shelly
She was still in bed, still staring mournfully at the ceiling. She was beyond late. There was no way she could show up now.
She had slept in. Her alarm had failed to go off again, but this time she didn’t wake up to before hand and intercept its failings. She had surfaced an hour or so later, she remembered glancing at the time on the display and then... nothing. She must have fallen asleep again.
She decided she wasn’t going to bother going to work, there was no point with only half the day left. She didn’t mind that it was only her second day, didn’t mind what the boss would think; he had other things -- most notably women and his penis -- to think about. But she didn’t want to give a bad impression to her colleagues, especially Mark. She liked him. Then there was Sissy, and when she thought about Sissy she couldn’t stop a grimace from spreading across her face.<
br />
If she didn’t show up for work then Sissy would think she had won, that she had scared her into a retreat, forced her into a shell like a bullied child who feigned illness to her parents to avoid school. Shelly Simpson wasn’t someone who shied away, she preferred to fight for what she believed in, for what was right, and she didn’t like horrible people to get their own way.
She climbed out of bed with a newfound determination on her face. She had to go to work to show Sissy that she wasn’t going to be her lackey, that she wasn’t going to tell her boss’s wife about the affair just to please her. If anything, she should tell Matthews what Sissy had asked of her. That would annoy her, which would please Shelly.
Sissy had threatened Shelly’s job. She’d said that if she didn’t do what she wanted her to do, if she didn’t tell Ian’s wife about the affair, she would convince Ian to sack her. It sounded like an idle threat, but Sissy was young and manipulative, Shelly couldn’t be sure that Sissy wouldn’t be able to get her own way with Matthews. She was young and sexy -- albeit a bit stuck-up -- she could probably get whatever she wanted, with few questions asked. But if Shelly got to Matthews first, if she told him what had happened and what Sissy had planned for his wife, she doubted he would be too happy with her.
