If you don't buy a ticket II

If you don't buy a ticket II

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica

Summary

how the chip shop girl saw the incident and the feelings it stirred up.

Summary

how the chip shop girl saw the incident and the feelings it stirred up.

Content

Submitted: April 05, 2016

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Content

Submitted: April 05, 2016

A A A

A A A


 If you don’t buy a ticket…Part II

 

I was free. He’d signed the papers; In return for me not taking half the business as well as half the house, I got all of the house and none of the business. Which I didn’t want anyway. I was strictly accounts and office, didn’t know nor care about contract cleaning and I definitely didn’t want to see or deal with him anymore. What I neglected to tell him was that I had taken half of the money he’d had me fiddle from the Tax and GST men. ‘His Pension’ he always called it…His, not Ours. Bastard.

What was he going to do? Complain to the Authorities somebody had stolen half of what he had stolen from them…yeah right.

Now I could be Me, my first week of freedom and what did I want to do? I didn’t actually know, but whatever it was it would be my decision not his. Short Version; Whatever the fuck I wanted…The Stepford Wives World he wanted me to live in could learn to manage without me.

Friday afternoon, I had a shower. But what should I wear? well where was I going? Who was I going to see?

That was another of my problems, we moved to his town, we saw his friends. The North Shore was pleasant enough but I really couldn’t face the stress of moving, I was in the de-stress business.

I could go anywhere I wanted, but what did I want? What do people do at the weekend? Out on the town, The Viaduct, K Rd, Clubs. Even in my new free state, I didn’t think dancing the night away until god knows what time was me, maybe 10 yrs. ago but not now.

I sat on the small deck of my 3rd. floor newly leased Browns Bay beach front Apartment, with just a towel wrapped around me, sipping at a glass of wine. I had thrown away most of the clothes he had bought me and most of the underwear except what I needed for decency sake at work. The evening was still warm, the muggy heat dissipated by a nice breeze. I had replaced some of my clothes but not all. I settled on a new Sun dress with a semi elasticated top and a billowy skirt…fuck the underwear.

I would go to that Restaurant in Torbay that was getting all the good reviews and see what all the fuss was about.

I parked round the back and walked in. As there didn’t seem to be a free table I sat at the small bar. I was served by a young dark haired English girl with impressive braless tits that strained at the seams of a white blouse with one too many buttons undone…no wonder they were full.

I ordered a house wine and enquired about a table for one. Only to be told they were fully booked, she gave me a business card with the name ‘Kate’ written on it, along with my drink and hoped I would book in the future and how she looked forward to seeing me again.

I fell back on the old standby of ‘people watching’ as I sipped at my wine.

But mainly due to the mesmerising effect of dark aureoles and nipples randomly moving about under a white blouse. I watched the young waitress as she moved from kitchen, to table, to bar, to till.

I picked at the antipasto tray on the bar to soak up the wine, deciding that another was called for, but only the one mind as I was starting to get hungry.

As I didn’t seem fated to eat in a restaurant I googled Torbay Takeaways. There was one just over the road. I phoned the number and placed an order. I was told 10 minutes and given a number; 38.

Driving out of the restaurant carpark, I turned right, went across the mini roundabout and was lucky enough to find a park 30 metres past the takeaway.

The couple of wines I had had on an empty stomach made me borderline Illegal. I thought, the quicker I get home the better.

I walked through the dangly multi coloured plastic strip thing in the door – I hadn’t seen one of those for years, besides a guy waiting on one of the 5 or 6 chairs I was the only customer.

“Number 38?” I enquired? “2 minutes Missus.” the man said. The muggy day had been replaced by a decent breeze which seemed to blow straight off the sea, up the hill and into the takeaway.

I could feel my skirt waving around but didn’t care, I kept my legs together…nothing to see here, move along. But to be honest I didn’t care that some tradie might see up my dress. My legs were good enough, it might cheer him up.

I could feel the wind blowing stronger, my dress rising higher and higher, I just clenched my arse cheeks tighter.

A really big gust came and my dress billowed and hovered at my waist, seemingly for seconds.

Then a hard sharp spank stung my right cheek, I gasped, then slowly turned my head to search for the source of my pain.

The only person in here was the tradie, who wore a look of cherubic innocence. But who else could it be. More importantly why could I feel myself getting wet. The wine and the exhibitionism had something to do with it, could the sharp spank have something to do with it as well?

I collected my order, turned to face the man, numerous options went through my head; ranging from slapping his face to inviting him back to mine. My face must have shown the internal conflict, but all he did was raise a questioning eyebrow. I did and said nothing, I was just free from one man, I was not about to take a chance with another…no matter how wet I felt.

I drove home on my tender backside, parked in my allocated spot, took the lift up to the 3rd floor. Supper went on to the kitchen bench, while I carried on into the bedroom. I gathered my dress above my waist and looked as best as I could in the mirror at the pink hand print. The sharp pain had turned into a warm glow that made my pussy tingle. One hand rubbed my arse, the other moved between my legs to feel the extent of my wetness. I backed onto the full length mirror for support and let the cool of the mirror soothed my stinging arse, my hand rubbed and rubbed at my clit. The other pulled my top down so I could fondle my breasts and nipples.

Pretty soon my hips started jerking as wave after wave of orgasm hit me. I sank slowly down the mirror to the floor, my hand gripped tight by my thighs, my knees nearly under my chin as I rode out the spasms.

I was a virgin when I married and in the 6 yrs. had never experienced anything like this. Looking back in comparison, it seemed I had hardly orgasmed at all, if this was what they could be like. Another reason to leave the pig.

When I recovered I reheated my meal and devoured the lot, orgasms must give me the munchies. Later in bed I treated myself to an encore orgasm, it was good but not as good. Strangely, my last thought as I drifted off was should I clean the streak of pussy juice I left on the mirror or leave it as a reminder.

 

3 Months Later:

Just before lunch the Boss, Kevin, called me into his Office, as I entered he indicated a seat.

“Well Nyree,” he said, “You’ve been here 3 months and your probationary period is finished, would you like to make it permanent?”

“Yes. Yes I would.” I beamed.

“Would you be upset if I expanded the Role, gave you more responsibility or would you prefer to stay as you are?”

“I think I could handle it.” I thought then added, ” Depending what you wanted me to do, that is.”

“You know our work is of a confidential nature. Your expanded role would involve a degree of client confidentiality several stages up from that. You’re not easily shocked are you?”

“No why, well I don’t think so.”

“Let me give you some back ground. My Degree as you know from the business cards is in Accountancy, member of this, fellow of that, all the alpha-betty spaghetti. I worked in Forensic Accountancy. Sometimes I got to go out ‘in the field’ as they say, to chase up assets in the physical sense, as well as find where they were hidden in the balance sheet, or in some cases not even on the balance sheet. Business men ‘losing’ 20m. catamarans in the petty cash, you’d be amazed what people think they can get away with.”

I said, “I’ll tell you about my Ex one day, but go on.”

“I found I liked the field work better than the number crunching. Now that makes up 80% of our work and profit. I contract out the boring stuff that takes weeks to do. I do one set of business accounts just to keep my hand in.”

“Your sister’s restaurant in Torbay.” I supplied.

“I know you can do the Accountancy and book keeping stuff and I’ve seen you can handle the software for the credit checks and the rest. Up to now I’ve been doing all the outdoor work, the malingerers with ‘bad backs’ claiming on ACC while digging their garden. But there are only so many hours in the day and I can’t be in 2 places at once.”

“What I want to do is send you on an official course where you can get proper certification to legally allow you to carry out the work. Due to the Government’s recent Election win they now have to make good some of their promises, one of which was to crack down on Benefit Fraud. The Company is now a full accredited Benefit Fraud Investigator for ACC. Your certification will allow you to do this work and the other more confidential relationship work.”

“I didn’t think enough people even got married to warrant divorce lawyers and private Investigations now." I said. A thought struck me and I blurted it out, “I haven’t got to hide in wardrobes and jump out with a camera when they’re at it have I?”

“No but you have to supply your own Trench coat and Fedora…joke…no wardrobes.”

“Marriage is just another type of legal contract now and people want to find out if the other half is sticking to the terms, religious or civil.”

“All you will be doing is recording person ‘A’ or ‘B’ meeting with person ‘C’ at a location the other half doesn’t know about. ‘A &’C’ together for this amount of time at this motel or where ever. Then we give the report to either the client themselves or their Solicitor and what they do with it is up to them.”

“What I would like to do, if you have no objections to what I’ve said so far, is to treat you to dinner tonight, by way of a bonus and discuss it further after you’ve had the afternoon to think it through. What do you say?”

I decided, “So far I like it, so yes, dinner would be nice.”

“Great,” he said, “We’ll go to Adele’s, she does top notch food and we can let the taxman pick up the bill like good little accountants should. What about if I meet you at ‘Speakers’ that’s near for you at about… six forty five?” he offered his hand across the desk, “Deal?”

“Deal.” I said.

I arrived about 10 mins early, got myself a drink and found a place to stand where I could see most of the bar and yet not be in anybody’s way. I fell into my default state of ‘people watching'. After a few minutes I saw somebody who looked familiar, at first I couldn’t place him, then I did. It was Chip Shop Man; he was at the pool table. While I watched a shot or two, another guy came over and placed a coin on the side of the table, I knew that this meant he would like to play the winner, I also then knew that I wanted some payback.

The thought flash through my head about buying tickets for raffles and something, something. I didn’t remember the quote but I had the principle behind it. I went in my bag and found a business card, I wrote my number on the back. Should I?

Just then I saw Kevin come in the door that led to the carpark, scan the room, miss me and head for the bar…Decision time, yes I should. With leaving my pig of a husband and getting the offer of a promotion in work I figured I was 2-0 up in life’s raffle. Shit or bust. One more ticket in life’s raffle please.

Chip Shop Man was bent over the table stick in hand, watching as his ball slowly trundled back up the table. I walked over, slapped his arse as hard as I dare, saying.

“We’re even now.” I said and walked over to join Kevin at the bar.

 

 

 

 

 


© Copyright 2017 E.M. Ockleshaw. All rights reserved.

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