The Voice in the Dark Ch. 02

Then, my licks begin to get more and more desperate and Lucy starts to move up and down as my tongue enters her, fucking her with my mouth. She moans and clenches around my tongue, and slips her fingers into me.

They latch onto my g-spot, pressing harder and faster to the point where my hips almost lift off the mattress. My hands squeeze her hips as she moves closer and closer towards blissful release, and my pussy clenches around her fingers. My orgasm is only just that little bit further.

***

As I sit on the subway on my way to work, I feel restless and edgy. The muggy heat is made even worse by the stale air of the subway car and I want to crawl out of my skin. Even the fact that I am wearing a black wrap dress is not helping me to cool down. I cross and uncross my legs in an attempt to get comfortable, but I am careful not to expose too much of my thighs to those sitting opposite. There are people sitting either side of me, gripping onto the handrails above their heads as they pack into the small space during the morning rush hour.

The perspiration pours from my forehead and I can feel it drip down my back and chest. What started as a minor discomfort is now replaced by the outright desperation to run off to find a cool shower or a rooftop pool. The slight throb between my legs has also mutated to a full on ache as my thighs squeeze together from the vibrations of the train. The wetness is soaking my panties and I am aware of every slight change in the rhythm of the train's movement, biting my lip and holding my breath.

The way I felt Lucy cum on my tongue whilst her fingers were inside me was deeply satisfying... for Lucy.

"Don't cum, beautiful girl. I want you wet, desperate, and so needy."

"But... I am so close. Please Luce, I...."She pressed a finger to my lips before caressing my neck and face and moving to kiss me once more.

"I think I may have something to tell Ricardo... if that's okay?" Lucy said as she pulled the duvet cover back over me and left me alone to sink back into sleep once more, still feeling the arousal run riot through my body.

I wasn't entirely sure what she meant. Did she want to include some of our fun times in their pillow talk? My cheeks burned bright red at the thought.

I want more than anything to get myself off but I know that I am getting increasingly closerto my office and therefore it will be quite out of the question to even try. The feeling has been increasing every minute of every hour, like the dripping of the cool water from my morning shower on my skin, and being quite unable to wash away even a trace of it.

The train rushes through a tunnel, and I can't concentrate enough to really pay attention to where I am going. I worry I will miss my stop. In an effort not to fall asleep or make my head bow under the weight of the overwhelming heat, I fan myself as best I can with my hand, once again cursing myself for forgetting to pack my portable electric fan.

The relief I have is very minor and I know it's futile, and so I reach for the lapel of my wrap dress and start moving it ever so slightly. I sigh at the feel of the slightly cooler air against my skin, but the subway is like being inside a canned tin and the hot air is compressed within this tiny little space. I count the seconds on my watch until it reaches the minute mark and repeats the cycle again, never stopping even for a moment. It reminds me of the old saying my mother used to use whenever I was running late for school: Time and Tide waits for no man.

I groan and I slump my shoulders back into the seat as my head lolls against the headrest. I try to picture cooler things in my mind: my cool shower, the pool in the gym and even the amazing air conditioning all the way through the office. It can be like a fridge in the office when the winter comes, but I am grateful for it in the hot, humid summer of New York City.

There are exactly three stops to go, and I am beginning to feel claustrophobia set in. Too many people. Not enough air. The heat is rising every second, and the throbbing between my legs is so unbearable that if not for the people watching me, I would have reached down and taken care of myself by now. My hands are gripping the seat with white knuckles as I force myself to breathe and my body to relax.

I hear the artificial voice of the subway call out the name of the station before my stop and open my eyes, ready to grab my bag and leave the hot stuffiness of the subway car once and for all. My head feels too heavy for my neck to hold up but I straighten up and feel a breeze around my chest area. The slightly cooler air feels wonderful, and for a moment I close my eyes to enjoy it.

Suddenly, I hear a wolf whistle from the other side of the subway car and lewd words are being shouted. I ignore it, there are tonnes of women around me and I am the least likely to be wolf whistled at.

Then a middle-aged woman next to me says, "Ma'am, you know your dress lapel has exposed your bra, right?" She doesn't say it unkindly, in fact, she is being helpful. I cover my face and I apologise profusely. I can't believe that I allowed myself to be exposed like that, even in the midst of this terrible heat. Whilst I am no stranger to wearing revealing clothes when it's hot, I have never outright exposed myself on the train with little to no consideration about who may have to look at me.

"It's hot out, don't worry, it happens."

I cover myself as best I can. In the nick of time, I manage to grab my belongings and run off the train onto the platform before the doors close, ignoring my new admirers. I check my watch and see that I have exactly ten minutes before I am due to be in work and so I continue to walk along the hot humid streets, checking the hemline and collar of my dress as I go.

The throbbing of my pussy has decreased a little what with my embarrassment on the train, but then as I walk, I begin to hear the blood roaring in my ears and my heart races as my eyes close and I lean against the wall of a quiet corner, the people around me filing out of the station and onto work.

I hear and feel nothing but the quiet strength of the wall behind me and the slight footsteps of those entering and leaving the subway station, and it takes all I have not to fall to my knees. My eyes close and my chest begins to feel tight with the need for air. I walk as quickly as I can climbing the stairs out of there and towards the light of the late morning.

All the while, I can see images of red hair, green eyes, strong manly hands and dark brown eyes, as the words Good Girl begin to resound in my head.

***

"You, Jessica Ashton, need serious help!" says Gloria, loud enough for almost the entire office to hear, and I blush the same colour as her lipstick.

"You're telling me that you met a guy last Friday, and then you found yourself home the next morning, with no memory of what happened the night before and only a vague memory of who this guy was?" Gloria sounds incredulous, but I can't exactly expect her to automatically believe me. I knew I'd be unable to lie to her the moment she saw my face coming into the office this morning. I have never been a very good liar to begin with, but I am especially bad when it comes to people like Gloria and Lucy.

I didn't want to tell her this much detail, but I had very little choice in the matter. She's like a dog with a bone whenever something doesn't sound right, and the part of the story I neglected to tell her came tumbling out of my mouth.

"I know Glo, it sounds weird now I think about it. I don't know what happened to me, and why I felt so strange."

I don't bring up the episodes of flashing, or the hot and steamy times with Lucy but the urge to bring all that up is overwhelming. It's like something is clawing at me from deep within myself. I want so desperately for things to continue, whilst a more logical part of me is desperately trying to prevent myself from falling further and further down the rabbit hole. However enticing it may be, there is no end in sight. After all I have suffered since my breakup, I deserve to feel good again, but that may come at a price if I don't keep a lid on my emotions.

Gloria pauses before speaking again, her face has worry lines around her eyes and her mouth is tight as she contemplates just how much I have veered off course. Her eyes then soften and she wraps me in a tight hug, which catches me off guard, as I was expecting that she would go into full blown investigative mode.

"Jess, I know your breakup has been tough on you, but you were so brave throughout this terrible situation. Honestly, you came in and you did your job to perfection, and I never would have guessed what was going on if you hadn't told me . It's just that, I worry this may be a delayed reaction to the trauma. And... well, I'm worried about you, Doll."

I am close to tears at the sound of her voice spilling the words she has more than likely repressed for months due to my delicate state. She had never seen me look so depressed, and even now she's worried she might say the wrong thing, which is so unlike Gloria.

She and everyone in my life have been treating me with kid-gloves, and I am just about done with it.

"I know Gloria. It does sound really weird, and I guess maybe I never really stopped to consider how weird it actually was. I suppose maybe I just didn't want to. I wanted to feel good again after so long..."

"Justin is an asshole. He truly is. He can't just end a near two-year relationship for absolutely no reason. Did you ever ask him why?"

"In my mind, I've been through every scenario as to why he could have possibly done it, a thousand times, but I don't think I'll ever really know." The sadness that had swamped me for months threatens to bubble up again, but I repress it. Work simply isn't the place to do it.

"Ya know what..." Gloria says, for once choosing to change the subject to something less invasive, "we need another night out with Lucy soon. I don't think we've all been out together since before your breakup, and me and Dan have been so busy working and getting the apartment in working order that we haven't really had space for ourselves. Wanna go out this Friday after work?"

At these words, the sadness and stress seeps away, and my body sighs in relief.

"Hell yeah. Lucy and I usually meet up at her restaurant every Friday after work, and we sometimes go on from there to a nightclub. Why don't we all go and meet up when she finishes at 7:30?"

Gloria flashes her megawatt smile. She starts happy dancing and clapping her hands simultaneously as she grooves to the party going on inside her head. Her long statement earrings bounce against her neck and she hugs me tight.

"Oh I can't wait. I'll just have to let the old ball and chain know at lunch today so he can invite some friends over or something. When the cats are away, and all that..." She giggles and I smile my second genuine smile in a long time. I love my loud mouthed, crazy and downright wonderful Gloria. She and Lucy have been my constants throughout these last few months, and I could not be more grateful to have them.

Whether I had a crazy encounter with my mysterious stranger or not doesn't seem to matter to me anymore. I find myself feeling a lift and it's only going to get much better. I straighten the neckline on my dress, and sip my coffee with a contented sigh. Although I still feel very achy down below, I allow myself to just be in the moment.

Gloria's mouth curves upwards in a smile, and her eyes sparkle with fun as she takes in that I am looking more dressed up than I have been in months. I am glowing from the inside out, and clearly it shows. I remember looking into the mirror this morning and loving my look. These past couple of days have made me feel simply phenomenal, with hair that has taken time and effort to create, makeup really well-done and carefully selected clothes that are a far cry from before.

For weeks, I have been getting up at the last possible minute, and only putting on my most comfortable clothes, with barely brushed hair and minimal makeup. I've been concentrating so hard on getting through the day without bursting into tears, and so my mascara was given the old heave ho. My head and eyes ached from all the typing and reading I had to do just to stay on top of my emotions, and so my appearance suffered. So much so that I hardly dared look in the mirror for once again seeing that pale, gaunt and miserable looking girl with nothing left of her sparkle.

I hated bringing this kind of energy into a job I have loved for years. The office has a great atmosphere, and there is a challenge I love to rise to every day, all alongside people who are supportive, kind and thoughtful. But I shunned it all simply to distract myself from the pain, and the endless questions running through my mind. If I wasn't working my arse off with little to no talking, I would be crying buckets onto poor Lucy. Too emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed to really take notice of anything outside of my day-to-day life.

That seems very much behind me now. They say that pain and sadness can't last forever, and eventually the world moves on and changes with or without you. It has to for its own survival, and I am strangely comforted by this.

Human beings are designed to overcome adversity, and my all-too-common problem of being abandoned by the man I loved for no reason isn't exactly big news here anymore. Most people were sympathetic when they heard about my breakup, but I steadfastly refused to talk about it with anyone save Lucy and Gloria. It was just all too painful.

Suddenly, I hear my phone go off in my bag and I reach for it. I scowl at the screen as I see another text from my mum.

We need to talk! Why are you avoiding me?

I know I will have to tell her the whole story eventually, as my mum is never satisfied with half answers, and I silently thank Steve for keeping her calm as best he could the last few months whilst I dealt with my pain.

I knew eventually I would have to face the music, and now that I am feeling a lot more settled and accepting of the situation, I type out a message to her that I hope will calm her down enough to stop bothering me for the day.

Later on, after a productive morning, I eat my lunch at my favourite spot, by a window looking down upon the city. Every day, I am thankful for my small piece of heaven, knowing that there are millions of people who feel discontented, lonely and unfulfilled in their lives but don't have either the courage or the financial freedom to change it.

It's something I have successfully avoided feeling up until now. One bad experience doesn't define you, it's how you respond to it that makes you who you are. I have chosen to soldier on when all I have wanted to do was just lie in bed and give up, unable to face the world and any of its wonders because of the actions of one bad boyfriend.

Why would I feel any different about Justin dumping me when the pain of a breakup isn't new to me? Sure, every breakup, just like every relationship, is different, but that doesn't mean you can't be better because of your bad experiences. I guess maybe it was a lot harder to move on without really knowing why he wanted to end our relationship. I know you can never really have closure, even if they tell you exactly why they did it, but it would make me feel just marginally better to know why, right?

I am shocked that thinking deeply, and honestly, about my breakup hasn't made my eyes prick with the harsh sting of tears like it has before. I sigh in satisfaction at feeling normal for the first time in a long time and am just sinking comfortably back in my chair, when Neil comes back into the common area looking a little more relaxed than when I saw him yesterday, though his tie is still somewhat askew. He moves to the window sipping from his coffee mug and closes his eyes, unaware that he's being watched.

I have always thought Neil attractive. He's classically handsome, with a strong jaw and broad shoulders. He always looks so well dressed and beautifully groomed. Whilst it seems these days women prefer ridiculously hairy, ungroomed cavemen, I like a man who takes the time and effort to look well groomed. In fact, I had a crush on him before I started going out with Justin.

Justin, on the other hand, put very little effort into his appearance, even when it came to big parties and nights out. Neil, no matter how busy or stressed out he gets, always manages to look well put together. He may not be a model, but he certainly turns heads, and even Gloria, who is happily married, sneaks a look at him as he passes by.

When I first arrived at the office, I was ridiculously shy and overwhelmed at the enormity and craziness of New York. I can still picture myself with my eyes firmly glued to my boss' lovely suits and easy smile. He made me feel respected, important and comfortable in a new workplace.

I consider him a wonderful boss, and friend, and he has never once treated me as inferior. Even in the position of manager, he still prefers to eat lunch with us in the common area than at fancy restaurants, or his office.

I catch his eye and wave, beaming at him. He then moves over to my table, placing his lunch opposite me.

"Hey Jess, how are you? You're looking very happy today."

"I am. I feel great."

Of course, I haven't told everything to Neil, but he knew enough to know that the best thing he could do was to keep me busy as I worked through things.

"I'm glad Jess. You're a hard worker and you bring a lot to this team. We want to make sure you succeed."

I am touched by his concern, and I lean forward a little more to engage in the conversation.

"I think, no matter how hard life gets, it will only be temporary. You have ultimate power over your life and choices," I say with genuine confidence and self-assurance in my voice.

Neil looks like he wants to say something but is interrupted by a ping of a message on his phone, and he looks down at it before smiling at me.

"That's good, because you know Mr. Johnson's son is visiting our department in a couple of weeks, right?"

"Yeah, I had heard he was taking over the company, but does that mean he's checking over other departments before he comes to ours?"

"To be honest, there is no protocol for how that usually works. It's very much a company that has never known any other leadership than Mr. Johnson Senior, or one of his agents, and so we had to work throughout the day yesterday to get a meeting arranged." Neil's eyes betray the stress he must have felt yesterday, but looks to be a little more under control now.

"You got any holidays planned for when the company finally changes hands?" I ask, hoping to steer him in a more positive direction.

"Oh yeah, I have two weeks of vacation time coming up after Mr Johnson's visit. It's gonna be a lot of hard work, but it will be worth it when he's up to speed and ready to go. It means I can get back to my regular work, and not worry so much about whether he plans to sell us off." Neil pulls a face, and takes another long sip of his coffee.

I have never met Mr. Johnson, or his sons, but from what I have gathered they seem like a family who are more focused on their reputation and strength of their business than their own needs as a family.

"What are they like, Neil? Ya know... as people"

Neil pauses to think a moment before he begins. "They are very intense; all of the men are powerhouses. However, the most memorable is also the only woman in the family. Mrs. Johnson keeps them in line. The men may be scary, but she is on a whole different level."

"Does Mrs.Johnson own a share of the business?" I ask, wanting to know even more about the strange family who have played an important role in the business despite them being mostly in the background.