billing. He was married, surely no competition.
But when Darlene excused herself to the bathroom, and Ben followed, Mick felt the acid sting of jealousy in his chest. When he could stand it no longer, he excused himself to the maze of hallways that led to the rest rooms. He never got that far.
A shushing sound drew his attention to the door of a store room standing ajar. Holding his breath, he tiptoed closer. He could hear soft moans and grunts. Cautiously he peeked inside.
There was Ben Taylor, trousers down, pale bare arse muscles clenching as he pistoned Darlene’s upturned cunt. She was bent over, one hand pinching an exposed nipple, the other tweaking her clit. ‘That’s it. Jesus, that’s it! Fuck me hard,’ she breathed.
Mick’s cock felt like hot lead in his trousers as he watched.
‘I’m coming!’ she rasped. ‘Oh God, I’m coming.’
With an expansive grunt and a quiver up his spine, Ben came too. As the pair collapsed on to a heap of tarpaulins next to a stack of crates, Darlene turned just enough to catch sight of Mick. He froze, his cock went limp. Her mouth was distorted not only by a festered canker, but by teeth grown sharp and too big for lips curled back in a sneer.
Mick felt his own distorted mouth, tasted blood where the sharp edge of his misshapen teeth grazed his lip.
He shoved his way out of the dream world and sat up like he was spring-loaded, sucking oxygen. A thin sheen of icy sweat smeared his body. ‘What the hell did you do? You made her ugly. She’s not. She’s beautiful, wonderful.’ He tasted blood.
‘Give me a mirror,’ he gasped, fighting back nausea. ‘Jesus! Give me a mirror!’
Sally offered him a silver gilt hand mirror along with a tissue. ‘You bit your lip while you were under. It happens sometimes.’
Sure enough, there was a small tooth mark from his normal teeth in his normal mouth. It was seeping blood. The visceral sense of relief passed, and he fumbled for his clothes. ‘I’ve had enough. Break the spell, undo it. I don’t care how, just stop it.’
‘It’s already broken.’ She stood and slipped into a robe. Even in his agitated state, he was sorry. He’d grown used to her nakedness. He felt strangely bereft without that intimacy. She extinguished the candles one by one. Outside, a heavy moon hung over the trees.
Mick drifted through the next few days in a fog. He thought about Sally lying naked, watching him dream, about the way she had cleared his head with her scent, with her taste, with her touch. He shook the memory away. He didn’t want to think about her. He had known what he wanted before Sally Haddon. There had been certainty. Now there was none.
Sally promised the spell was broken, and yet the world seemed different, darker somehow. Except when he thought of her. Strange that. She was the cause of his disquiet. He should be outraged at her. Instead there were butterflies in his chest when he thought of her.
He went to the break room for coffee, but there was none. Cursing to himself, he set about making a fresh pot. At the corner table two secretaries chatted. The heavyset one he had overheard talking with Darlene spoke quietly. ‘His wife took the kids and went home to her mother in Manchester.’
‘That’s too bad,’ the secretary from accounts said. ‘Ben loves his kids so much.’
Mick held his breath and listened.
‘But he’s not willing to give up Darlene,’ the heavyset one said.
Mick’s stomach dropped to the floor, as the secretary continued, oblivious to him. ‘Thing is, he doesn’t have Darlene. You saw what she did to Ted Engels.’
The accounts secretary shook her head. ‘Poor Ben. He’s too naïve to see it.’
Mick left without coffee. For the rest of the day he buried himself in work. Somewhere in the swirl of numbers and accounts that kept his mind off things, he looked up to find everyone else had gone home. But he didn’t want to go home. He wanted to go to Sally Haddon, but he doubted
But when Darlene excused herself to the bathroom, and Ben followed, Mick felt the acid sting of jealousy in his chest. When he could stand it no longer, he excused himself to the maze of hallways that led to the rest rooms. He never got that far.
A shushing sound drew his attention to the door of a store room standing ajar. Holding his breath, he tiptoed closer. He could hear soft moans and grunts. Cautiously he peeked inside.
There was Ben Taylor, trousers down, pale bare arse muscles clenching as he pistoned Darlene’s upturned cunt. She was bent over, one hand pinching an exposed nipple, the other tweaking her clit. ‘That’s it. Jesus, that’s it! Fuck me hard,’ she breathed.
Mick’s cock felt like hot lead in his trousers as he watched.
‘I’m coming!’ she rasped. ‘Oh God, I’m coming.’
With an expansive grunt and a quiver up his spine, Ben came too. As the pair collapsed on to a heap of tarpaulins next to a stack of crates, Darlene turned just enough to catch sight of Mick. He froze, his cock went limp. Her mouth was distorted not only by a festered canker, but by teeth grown sharp and too big for lips curled back in a sneer.
Mick felt his own distorted mouth, tasted blood where the sharp edge of his misshapen teeth grazed his lip.
He shoved his way out of the dream world and sat up like he was spring-loaded, sucking oxygen. A thin sheen of icy sweat smeared his body. ‘What the hell did you do? You made her ugly. She’s not. She’s beautiful, wonderful.’ He tasted blood.
‘Give me a mirror,’ he gasped, fighting back nausea. ‘Jesus! Give me a mirror!’
Sally offered him a silver gilt hand mirror along with a tissue. ‘You bit your lip while you were under. It happens sometimes.’
Sure enough, there was a small tooth mark from his normal teeth in his normal mouth. It was seeping blood. The visceral sense of relief passed, and he fumbled for his clothes. ‘I’ve had enough. Break the spell, undo it. I don’t care how, just stop it.’
‘It’s already broken.’ She stood and slipped into a robe. Even in his agitated state, he was sorry. He’d grown used to her nakedness. He felt strangely bereft without that intimacy. She extinguished the candles one by one. Outside, a heavy moon hung over the trees.
Mick drifted through the next few days in a fog. He thought about Sally lying naked, watching him dream, about the way she had cleared his head with her scent, with her taste, with her touch. He shook the memory away. He didn’t want to think about her. He had known what he wanted before Sally Haddon. There had been certainty. Now there was none.
Sally promised the spell was broken, and yet the world seemed different, darker somehow. Except when he thought of her. Strange that. She was the cause of his disquiet. He should be outraged at her. Instead there were butterflies in his chest when he thought of her.
He went to the break room for coffee, but there was none. Cursing to himself, he set about making a fresh pot. At the corner table two secretaries chatted. The heavyset one he had overheard talking with Darlene spoke quietly. ‘His wife took the kids and went home to her mother in Manchester.’
‘That’s too bad,’ the secretary from accounts said. ‘Ben loves his kids so much.’
Mick held his breath and listened.
‘But he’s not willing to give up Darlene,’ the heavyset one said.
Mick’s stomach dropped to the floor, as the secretary continued, oblivious to him. ‘Thing is, he doesn’t have Darlene. You saw what she did to Ted Engels.’
The accounts secretary shook her head. ‘Poor Ben. He’s too naïve to see it.’
Mick left without coffee. For the rest of the day he buried himself in work. Somewhere in the swirl of numbers and accounts that kept his mind off things, he looked up to find everyone else had gone home. But he didn’t want to go home. He wanted to go to Sally Haddon, but he doubted
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