Excuse me, but my life is waiting.

A smutty, sordid idea that is deemed too racy, vile and vulgar in our boring everyday lives to even surface as words. Some of my stories are true, some part truth part imagination and others complete works of fiction. Trust that you have the sensibility discern fact from fiction…AND not get offended.

Enjoy.

Read Between Scylla and Charybdis after the jump …

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She was caught in middle. Trapped between diametric opposites and marooned between the two islands, she floundered like a fish out of water in her desperate search for the perfect partner in a perfect world.

Leaning back in her chair, Sarah silently admired the contours of his toned, muscular body at the copier machine across the office as she let her mind travel back to the sordid night before. They had, in some cheap motel in a filthy begrimed back-alley, banged each other horny desperate teenagers.

As Tim’s manager, she was obliged to keep a professional distance. Yet somehow, as did such things do, a heated sexual relationship had developed inexplicably between the two of them.

Sarah shuddered involuntarily as a strand of guilt wormed its way into her jaded heart as she thought of Mike. 
She refused to admit to herself that she found him boring, or that they were in reality, two parallel lines that would never meet. Sarah was 28 and she had, over the years, acquired a very expensive taste for clothes, shoes and holidays. Mike made all that possible.

Disgusted with the mental image of Mike, Sarah forcibly turned her thoughts back to work. However, as she absently moved her mouse across her computer screen, her thoughts invariably turned back to him.

Tim was 2 years her junior, but she did not mind. At the peak of womanhood, Sarah’s lusty curves were in full bloom and she was ready to let her body be explored, exploited and used. She colored slightly at the memory of how he had knelt in front of her, taken her breasts in his hands and greedily sucked at her aroused, swollen nipples. She had noticed that night, that he had never taken his eyes off her for even one second. She loved the way he used his eyes to caress her body. How his gaze would linger for just a while longer at the high-cut slit of her skit and how his eyes conveyed his burning, impetuous desire for her. The intensity of his ardor, she found extremely flattering. His depravity, his single-minded pursuit for sex, she found strangely and disturbingly intoxicating. At the thought of his touch, Sarah stood up from her seat and walked across the room to his cubicle only to find his insipid girlfriend, Claire, sitting in his chair.

The sight of Claire was like a slap across her face. She had not expected to find anyone in his office, least of all, Claire. She had initially intended to, as Claire had done, plant herself in his chair to surprise him.Sarah hated Claire. Not because she wanted him for herself, but because she found Claire to be a weak-minded, fearful and useless woman. She hated women who, for the lack of wit and ability, used tears and female wiles as their weapons to ensnare men. She loathed the fact that he, for all his acuity and intellect, would find such a charwoman attractive enough to want to marry.

Barely able to suppress her irritation, Sarah turned and left the office. She did not want to admit to herself that she was the guilty third-party or that he, insultingly, really preferred Claire to her. She had, as she lay sprawled on her bed the night before, rationalized that he had made choice out of his own free will and they were both consenting adults.

Sarah, over the last few months, had been increasingly convinced that her relationship with Mike was non-existent despite them living in the same house. She couldn’t decide which was worse; life with a deadwood or being a wanton paper pusher of meager means. Being the shrewd woman she was, Sarah knew she didn’t have much time left to choose.

Money has a way of making the ugly appear beautiful, the repulsive bearable and the stupid haut monde. Even though Mike was not charismatic, handsome nor particularly astute, he was still viewed very desirable by the many women who coveted his cars, his St Regi’s home and surfeit of property.

Long ago, Sarah believed that she loved Mike. But after 8 years of marriage, she had come to terms with the fact that she was more in love his money, his power and his status than the man himself. Mike had showered her with glittering presents, lavish dinners and impromptu weekends to exotic islands and it wasn’t before long Mike had earned himself a very besotted 20 year old as his wife.

8 years on, she had discovered that Mike was only in love with himself and his only interest was to expand his business empire. Women he had plenty. Sarah was but his official girl Friday, to be presented at the inordinately boring and meaningless charity galas and social events that they, the glitterati, had to attend.

Between Scylla and Charybdis, Sarah knew she had to choose. And like a fish out of water in her desperate search for the perfect partner in a perfect world, she could only choose to flounder.