LOVE ACTUALLY – JULIET, PETER & MARK

JULIET SIGHED WHILE turning her head to look at the sleeping form of her husband.  He was snoring. Again. She was okay if she fell asleep before Peter but on those nights when sleep took its time before claiming her his snoring kept her awake. It was always worse when he slept on his back, so she gave him a soft kiss on the shoulder before giving him a gentle shove, urging him to roll on to his side. With a grunt he did, and his snores morphed from foghorn to soft rumble. Juliet closed her eyes and rolled on to her back, but it was pointless; she was wide awake. Read More …

CLICHE #4

So much has happened in a few short months that it’s now hard to remember how my doubts started. Let me think back to what happened on that extraordinary, ordinary day.

I remember it was a Wednesday, a Wednesday that started like every other ordinary work day. I left for work at seven-thirty after kissing my wife Julie and giving my two teen sons, Pete and Mick, a squeeze on the shoulder because, apparently, they weren’t babies anymore and therefore were too old for a kiss – their words, not mine – goodbye. Read More …

CLICHE # 3 – THE JUDGE REYNOLDS SAGA CONTINUES

I finished reading the note my lawyer had just passed me and smiled, then glanced over to the other side of the courtroom. There was Laura, my hopefully soon-to-be ex-wife, with her lawyer. She glanced over and gave me a nervous but confident smile. Read More …

CLICHE #2 – FIVE STAR RESTAURANT

I’d never been to a five-star restaurant before and I gotta say it felt like alien territory to a panel beater tradie like me. Give me a small family diner every day of the week. I was damned lucky to get a table, but, apparently, the five-star hotel hosting the five-star restaurant reserved tables for house guest walk-ins. The fact it was a Monday night in mid-winter helped as well, of course. Read More …

GONE IN MINUTES Ch 6

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 him to perform the act. Read More …