Gone in Minutes Ch. 06

GONE IN MINUTES Ch 6

Written by Vandemonium1

Edited by CreativityTakesCourage

Just another quickie, with no beginning and no end. A little vignette to celebrate the joy of writing and a seldom if ever used discovery method. It could have been fairly titled, 'Gone in Seconds'. Feel free to add a beginning, an end or anything in between.

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The fingers trailing across my mini skirt clad ass as I stood facing my colleague, Julie, at the company Christmas party sent a trail of sparks straight to my libido. Say what you like, at forty-eight no amount of looking in the mirror, no amount of husbandly compliments or ones from colleagues and friends alike say, 'you've still got it', like a physical touch. The simple act of three or four fingers trailing their way slowly and sensually from left buttock to right along the line of my super-short dress. Sometimes on silky fabric, sometimes on silkier skin, at exactly the half-way point drawn along my panty covered sex. Pressing briefly but insistently. The touch, from the guy who'd walked ever so slowly behind me, made me wet in the scant three seconds it had taken.

Julie no doubt wondered at the beatific smile on my face as I considered just how glorious my life was. There I was, celebrating my first Christmas as a recently promoted manager in what, until recently, was a male dominated industry. A woman who'd just last week attended the college graduation of her youngest child, dux of the class and destined for greatness in her own right. I had a husband who'd also built a successful business with his own hands and his own blood, sweat, and tears. A husband who always put me above every other demand on his time and even after over twenty-five years of marriage, showed me just how attractive he thought I still was, several impromptu times a week at least.

A husband who the last time I checked was talking to my company's owner on the other side of the room. I looked at the retreating back of the carrier of the fingers of fire just to make sure it was Jacob, not some soon-to-be-writhing-on-the-floor-clutching-his-balls-then-slapped-with-a-sexual-assault-suit random. No, there he was, my fifteen-year younger lover; the real reason my life was going just so damned well at the moment. He was moseying away from me, face half turned back over his shoulder, a smile playing on his face, no sign of the smug smile he'd worn when I introduced him to my husband, Dave, at the start of the evening, thank Christ. When he sensed me looking at his retreating back, he raised his fingers and passed them under his nose, telling me he knew I was excited and knew it was him that excited me. Probably better not to ever tell him that if he could smell anything it was likely from when I'd come out from the bathroom to find Dave dressing for the party in the main bedroom. He'd taken one look; his nostrils had flared and he'd taken me. Just pushed me onto the bed, dropped his own briefs, pushed my panties aside and taken me. That's what I mean; with that evidence of two hunks finding me irresistible, I was one lucky wife, mother, and upwardly mobile woman.

I smiled at Jacob's back and wondered if, for once, I could relax my rigorous safety rules, text Jacob to meet me in one of the cloak rooms, bend over and ride that glorious cock of his to heaven and back. I'd fucked Dave and Jacob on the same day a couple of times and to say it was hot was a massive understatement. Just the thought of it was enough to make me gush. I briefly thought of dragging Dave into the cloakroom but quickly discounted it. One, Jacob wouldn't appreciate having the fact I still fancied my husband rubbed in his face like that and, two, having hot and dirty quickies bent over chairs in cloakrooms was for lovers, not husbands.

I fought the almost irresistible desire to text Jacob to meet me. l'd maintained a lover for eight months now, undiscovered, by being meticulously careful about when and where I met him and how I cleaned up and behaved before and after meeting him. I also knew a huge part of it was how I behaved around my husband, being super careful not to show him any less respect than I always had, even whilst stabbing him in the back in possibly the worst way a wife can. And, yes, I knew that was what I was doing but the allure of illicit sex with a young and handsome stud was beyond my capability to resist.

And I did respect Dave and just hoped like hell that Jacob would respect that feeling. But no, the immature little prat had to sneer at and try to denigrate Dave whenever his name was mentioned. I suppose it is a self-evident truth in this situation all over the world. Hubby had no clue about the existence of the lover but the lover knew all about his rival. Yes, I could see why that made him feel superior but did the little prick have to smirk so openly in Dave's face? I hope it didn't look too suspicious when I grabbed Jacob's elbow and dragged him away just after introducing them earlier in the evening because of that smirk.

But that was earlier and what was on Jacob's face as he walked away now was just a boyish smile. He knew very well what he'd just done to me and what I wanted to do to him in the privacy of a back room. He was headed over towards Dave's side of the room now, I sincerely hoped my sexy, but oh so naughty boy, wasn't about to go and talk to him. Not with that frame of mind. I was under absolutely no illusion as to the survival chance of my marriage should Dave discover my long-standing affair.

I wouldn't put it past Jacob to subconsciously out us. He'd made no secret of the fact he would like me all to himself. I never had the heart to tell him that openly having a relationship with someone almost young enough to be my son, and a subordinate, was never going to be part of this ambitious woman's future. As I said, I just hoped my little toy-boy played nicely.

I let my focal length expand to see where Jacob was actually heading and froze. He WAS heading straight toward my husband, it seemed. I think my heart actually stopped. I know I actually staggered backwards a step or two as Julie had to steady me as my gaze focused on my husband's face about twenty-five paces away. The expression on Dave's face made it abundantly clear that he'd seen everything. Jacob's hand brushing my buttocks, his lustful grin, and my answering seductive, loving smile. All actions of a sexually comfortable couple in an emotionally involved relationship.

I knew in an instant that my happy, sedate marriage was a thing of the past. As dead as the dodo. A future flashed, or should I say flushed, in front of me. One of devastated children, who if the news of the annihilation of their family wasn't bad enough, would soon be asked to choose who to be loyal to. A career driven mother, who had abandoned them at an early age to various day-care centres. A mother proven to be a liar and a cheat. Or an emotionally wounded, doting father, frantically trying to reach around to remove the knife firmly implanted in his back. I wasn't at all confident I'd come out very well in that contest. Who was I fooling? I'd lost before I even started a defence.

The same went for friends and extended family. How many of them would pick the cheater over Saint Dave? Oh hell, why didn't I think of all this before? Why? Because I've been an arrogant fucking bitch, that's why.

As I watched, Dave's face morphed from shock to mounting anger, then straight through that into towering rage. His rabid eyes accused me of killing the life he thought he had. A life he now knew was a lie. I just couldn't face that anger and, like it had a life of its own, my gaze roamed to the right.

Straight toward the still shocked expression of Mr. Grace, the owner of my company, lay preacher, moral crusader, and the champion of the board to get more gender equality within the company. The reason I was promoted. His face told me all I needed to know. He'd been watching me alongside Dave when Jacob pulled his little stunt without checking for observing eyes first. If he hadn't already, he soon would conclude that he'd witnessed an affectionate act of two established lovers. Proof of a relationship so far from his world view as to be almost alien. I knew my career with this company was finished and there would be no glowing testimonial as a thanks for twenty-six years of devoted service. Not only that, but I'd have to move a powerful long distance away from this town to even bother applying for a file clerk's position.

In cowardice, my eyes swung from this new source of terror, back to Jacob's retreating back. Everything up to now must have taken mere seconds as my lover's face was still half turned toward me and he'd only covered about two thirds of the distance between the doom of my marriage and its victim.

The fool had no idea what he was walking into. His plan was obviously to have a little gloat at my husband's, sorry, ex-husband's expense. As he approached the group of people around Dave, he turned his full attention to them and his face fully away from me. I saw his expression in the mirror behind Dave and Mr. Grace, it morphed from a boyish grin to full on sneer. It took another four paces and less seconds for him to register the expression on his intended victim's face, but his legs kept going automatically.

Then his face suddenly fell and, two paces short, his legs stopped. I could tell to the nearest half second when he knew. Knew with a dread certainty that he wasn't going to get to gloat today. His visage turned a deathly shade of white, no, it was grey, chalky grey, as he looked at the guy he'd been walking towards. The guy half a foot taller than him with about an axe handle length distance between his pectoral muscles.

Fascinated, like when an accident happens before you, like when you peek through your fingers at a gory scene in a horror movie, I watched the inevitable happen. Dave took the final two steps to the immobile man and the lightning quick right fist impacted the stomach of the flaccid office worker. The noise of the explosive expulsion of every molecule of air in Jacob's lungs overrode all other sounds in the room. As he instinctively doubled over, his face met Dave's knee as it came up.

Dave wasn't always the gentleman he appeared nowadays. He'd had to claw his way from the gutter of his youth. Claw, bite, scratch, and kick. Jacob went down, like he was poleaxed. I saw Dave stomp on something towards the prone man's lower body before Mr. Grace pulled him away.

As soon as he saw the angry man's rage has dissipated enough, Mr. Grace walked up to the closest group of people and started talking, I'm sure explaining how they'd just seen nothing; witnessed nothing.

I ran.

THE END

Now lighten the fuck up. Let's see how many people I can upset with these ones.

How does every ethnic joke start? With a look over your shoulder.

CTC came up to me the other day and said, "I don't know if I'm coming or going."

I said to her, "Judging by the look on your face, you're going - 'cos when you're coming, you look like a fucking Pit Bull trying to whistle!"

Has anyone seen my teeth?