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No Love

By: blackdove55



"You're my wife!" Robert screamed.

"Robert, I'm your wife. I refuse to be your concubine," Nicole replied. A drop of sweat rolled down Robert's forehead. His eyes were wet from sobbing. He stood and walked to the front door. 

"Where are you going, Robert?" said Nicole.

"Out." Robert walked outside and took two deep breaths. Robert, the blue-eyed, brown-skinned Casanova, had not made love to his wife in two years. The frustration sped up his walk to the supermarket where he purchased a six pack of Heineken. When he returned, Nicole was gone. No note. Just gone.

Robert stared at "Sportscenter" on the TV and sipped from the small green bottle. He rubbed his goatee slowly, reflecting on the argument. He was baffled by what happened to their marriage. They used to be happy. They would make love at the drop of a hat. They used to have chemistry. But over the last few years, things had changed. They had not had a conversation longer than five minutes in the last year. She spent more and more time with "the girls." Nicole claimed that she wasn't the cheating type. Based on her behavior, Robert thought otherwise.

Robert woke up to the slam of the front door. Nicole took one of the three empty Heineken bottles and tossed it into his lap.

"Robert, please clean up your mess."

"Sorry. I didn't think you cared."

"I don't. It's just the principle."

"What is your problem? Are you sleeping with someone else?"

"I do not have the time or patience to deal with your insecurity, Robert."

"It's okay. You keep doing your thing. I'll just keep making love with myself." Nicole stormed out of the room and slammed the bedroom door. Robert undressed and restlessly slept on the couch.

He arrived at work an hour early. The office building was tall, and the windows shone in the morning sunlight. It reminded Robert how far he had come in life. From a rough neighborhood in New York, he had worked his way through college to become an editor at a major publishing house. A glance at Nicole's picture caused a heavy feeling to press against his chest. A gentle knock on his door broke his sorrowful gaze. 

"Good morning, Robert."

"Good morning, Clara. How are you?"

"Good. You look good, Robert."

Robert laughed off Clara's compliment. Clara and Robert had worked together for the last ten years and knew each other very well. 

Clara was attractive. Her navy blue business suit emphasized her voluptuous breasts, narrow waist and ample hips. Her legs were shapely and muscular from years of running.

"Are you okay, Robert?"

"Just dandy. Happy as an ice cube in hell." 

"Issues with the wife again?"

"Wow!! You must be psychic."

"All I have is one question. Are you happy?"

"What?"

"Are you happy?" 

Robert had never asked himself that question. He never admitted out loud that he was not happy with Nicole and had not been happy with their relationship for the last two years. 

"Honestly, no. But that's between me and my wife."

"Life is too short to be unhappy." Clara sashayed to Robert's desk, kissed him gently on the cheek and whispered, "Just remember, I'm here for you." Clara backed away from him and gave him a big smile. She turned around and walked away so he could get a full view of her from head to toe. 

Later that day, Robert sat his desk, rubbing his goatee and reading over a manuscript. His focus continued to drift from work to his situation at home. Robert wanted resolution. He remembered when they used to hang out all day and make love all night. A text message interrupted his pleasant memory.

Nicole wrote that she would be late. She was hanging out with the girls. Robert did not believe her. He rapidly wrote back and ended his message with "I love you." He always made it a point to say that to Nicole as much as possible. He never heard it much when he was growing up. 

"Hey there." Robert looked up and saw Clara standing at his door with a big smile.

"Hey. How are you?"

"OK I guess. A little down because I have to work late tonight. By the looks of your desk, so do you."

"You are accurate in your assumption."

"Be careful. A sexy vixen may try to seduce you."

"I'm married."

"Not for long."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The comment caught Robert off guard and strengthened his suspicion of Nicole's fidelity. 

"Relax, honey. I'm just playing. I hope everything works out for you."

"All couples go through their rough spots. We'll be fine."

"I hope so. You're awfully touchy these days. I'm going to grab something to eat. Want anything?"

"No, I'm good."

She really does know me well, Robert thought. Nicole never picked up on Robert's tendencies the way Clara did. Robert felt guilty about his thoughts and physical desires towards Clara. He called Nicole to check on her, as well as to alleviate his guilt. She picked up on the first ring.

"What do you want, Robert?"

"I wanted to hear your voice."

"That's sweet, Robert. Can I go now?"

"Nicole, I am trying to show you I care."

"That's nice, Robert. Can you do it when I am not busy?"

"Bye."

Click. Her actions were a dagger to his heart. He placed his head in his hands and balled. Tears dripped from the spaces between his fingers. Robert did not understand why Nicole was so cold towards him. Sometime later, a soft hand rubbed his hair. Clara was standing next to him with tears in her eyes, too. She hugged him firmly. For the first time in years, his body reacted to another woman's touch. Her feminine softness and sweet scent were both comforting and stimulating. Clara felt Robert's reaction, but knew this was not the right time. 

"What happened, Robert?" Robert told her about his exchange with Nicole. Clara listened attentively. 

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know Clara. I just don't know."

After careful consideration, she decided it was time to break the news.

"You need to do something. This situation is starting to affect your performance at work. You're becoming less productive, withdrawn and irritable."



"Have people started to notice?" Clara looked at the floor. Her silence was Robert's answer. She walked to her desk, grabbed an envelope and handed it to Robert. His confused expression met Clara's guilty eyes.

"What's this?"

"It's your severance package. Mr. Biggs thought it would be better if it came from me." 

"I'm getting fired?"

"I'm so sorry, Robert."

"Whatever."

"He wants you out by the end of the week."

"Let him be a man and tell me himself."

Clara walked out of his office. Furious, Robert sat at his desk rubbing his goatee. He received a text from Nicole that said she was on her way. He didn't bother to respond. He was through with drama for the day. The last thing he needed was for Nicole to assume Clara and him were having an affair. He stood up to stretch his legs. He looked at Clara, his co-worker for ten years, and wanted to curse her for doing her supervisor's dirty work. The sound of the elevator opening broke Robert's hateful gaze.

Nicole slowly walked down the hallway with her head down and avoiding Robert's eyes.

"Robert. We need to talk," Nicole said in a tired voice.

"About what? You said what you had to say over the phone didn't you?"

"Clara, I would like you to come into Robert's office too." Clara stood up and had a very mischievous look in her eye. She came into the office and stood directly next to Nicole. What was that all about?

"Robert. I have something to tell you."

"Let me guess. You have been seeing another man and you want a divorce. How could you Nicole? After all these years, I never cheated on you once," Robert stated.

"Let me explain, Robert."

"Explain what? How you thought it was OK to step out on your husband?"

"I am sorry, Robert. But you need to know the truth." Nicole grabbed Clara's hand and squeezed it.

"Clara? You knew about this too? What kind of friend are you?" Robert stopped and thought. Was all this stress really worth it? He had lost his job and his wife was dating someone else. What did he have to lose?

"Nicole, the last two years have been hell. We have grown apart, I have lost my job because of you, and I am miserable in this marriage. I want a divorce. And to you Clara, go to hell."

"Are you sure about this Robert?" Nicole said. She held Clara's hand even tighter. 

"Yes."

"That's fine, Robert. Have it your way. But you need to know the truth."

"What? Do you have more than one boyfriend?"

"No. You know the woman I am dating very well." Clara wrapped her arms around Nicole's neck and softly kissed her lips. The soft peck turned in to a French kiss.

Thirty seconds later, Robert was leaning on his desk in an attempt not to pass out from shock. After finally breaking their passionate kiss, the women turned to Robert.

"Surprised?" asked Clara.

"Why?" Robert asked.

"You denied me so many times, Robert. I ran into Nicole at a party two years ago and we hit it off. She is beautiful and an amazing lover."

"Robert, I guess she figured if she couldn't have you she might as well have your better half," Nicole said. The women laughed at the crude joke that was anything but funny to Robert. They left as he sat at his desk and wondered where he would go from here. 

Although Robert thought his life was falling apart, he was confident that he would find love again. As he packed up his desk, he picked up the picture of Nicole and slammed it into the trash can.

No Love Lost



I had never been happy with the size breasts, and what there was was already, at the age of nineteen, starting to sag, so I took the opportunity of a little time off to get myself a little surgery. After a little recuperation around the flat for a couple of months I decided I needed to rethink some of my wardrobe to fit with my new shape, and I went out to do a little shopping. 

I went shopping around all the best stores, but couldn’t see very much I liked. I was just on my way back to the hotel when I spotted someone I had liked even less. He was standing chatting to a couple of guys at the side of the road, and laughing, leering at girls as they walked past. I hadn’t seen him for around seven years. He hadn’t changed a bit. Apparently I had, though, as when I walked past he leered at me the same as the other girls. Well, that’s not quite true. He leered more. He was attempting to be no more faithful to his third wife than he had to his first. My mother.

My father stepped back in mock fright as I walked back, apparently expecting an attack. I paused a moment, scared of what I was about to attempt. I swallowed. First I would test the water. ‘Hi.’

My father stopped his laughing, nonplussed. ‘Hello, love. How can I help yer?’

‘Steve?’ I kept my accent as clipped Home Counties as I could. 

Now my dad was really fazed. ‘Erm… Yes,’ he said, cautiously.

‘Christine,’ I said, holding out my hand. ‘Perhaps your daughter mentioned me?’

He relaxed a little, perhaps relieved that I wasn’t from the tax office. ‘No. Have we met?’

‘A long time ago. Though you must have made an impression on me, I suppose. I went to school with your daughter.’

He furrowed his brow in concentration. ‘Now that you mention it I do seem to recall a Christine. Bit of a tearaway, eh?’

‘Yes, that’ll be me,’ I chortled falsely. The fact that he remembered Christine didn’t surprise me. She had practically thrown her pert, large breasts at every man she came into contact with. Breasts that were about the same size as mine were now. Not large for a nineteen year old, but huge for a twelve year-old. Breasts that kept grabbing my father’s attention even now.

‘If you’re not busy, perhaps you would care to join me for a spot of lunch?’ I asked innocently. I looked at my father’s friends. Any other time I would have been delighted for a threesome, but this was different. I wanted to tempt my father into something.

You see my parents had split up, many years before, because he was abusive to my mother. From what I gather my mother had not always been keen on sex, and my dad used to threaten her to make her do things. Nothing violent, that’s not usually my dad’s way. He used to take photographs of her in compromising positions, threaten to sleep with her sister, that kind of thing. The final straw was when he raped my cousin, while she was staying over. He has always denied it was rape, and nothing was ever proved, but my mum had had enough. I had never been sure whom I believed, but I knew I disliked him. This was my chance to prove it to myself one way or another. And my little mental checklist of fetishes could get ticked off one if I was right. And my dad certainly was a good-looking man.

He looked at his friends. ‘Hey, don’t let us keep yer,’ called one. 

My dad smiled and nodded. ‘See yer later, Harry. Eight, yeah?’ He turned his attention back to me. ‘So where d’yer wanna go?’

‘Where do you like?’

‘Erm…’ He looked me up and down. Every glance he took at me made me more nervous. I was sure I looked different, but how different? I had larger breasts, in my heels I was much taller, I had bleached my hair (all of it that I haven’t had waxed off), and I was quite a bit thinner; but surely a father would always recognise his own child?

‘I know a good place. You just follow your uncle Steve, eh?’ Apparently not. 

I followed him blindly through the streets of London, nearly losing him at one point in the hustle and bustle, so that he had to double back. He took my hand and smiled at me, and I smiled back and teetered on after him. Finally in the middle of a fairly quiet street, he stopped, and I ran into the back of him. He laughed, and put an arm around me, and said, ‘Here we are, love. Just down here.’ 

We were at the mouth of a dark alleyway. I was all knotted up with nervousness and excitement. This was better than I could have dared hope. I had planned to seduce him and lead him to a hotel room, so that I would have a little something over on him. If he planned to try something on with me this quickly all the better. Innocently I asked ‘What’s down there?’

Trying to keep the leeryness out of his voice he replied ‘the best thing you’ve ever tasted, love. I promise.’ Did he really think that the weak double-entendre excused this? 

My legs felt like they were turning to jelly as we walked down the alleyway which got darker and darker, and about halfway down his hand slipped down from my shoulders to my ass. 

He stopped, next to a metal fire escape. ‘Why, Why’ve we stopped?’ I asked, unable to keep a tremor out of my voice, and hoping it would pass for fear instead of excitement.

‘Because I heard stories about you at school, mi dear. About just how much you could take. And I want to test them out. Don’t worry, I’ll not be rough.’

I gulped, and tried to look fierce at him. ‘And If I refuse?’

‘Then I will be rough, and I’ll tell thi fatha’ all them stories I know.’ Now it was time to make a judgement. How rough was my father likely to be? He had certainly never bruised either my mother or my cousin, but perhaps there were others I didn’t know about. I judged he didn’t get off on pain, just humiliation. That was okay, I actually enjoyed being humiliated. I decided to play the game to the hilt.

‘Well, I refuse anyway,’ I said, and turned on my heel and started back up the alleyway. For a moment I thought he wasn’t going to follow me, and then I felt his hands around my waist. ‘I thought you might say that,’ he said.

He let go of my waist and grabbed my hands, quickly tying something around them. It was a rotten knot, and I could have slipped it easy, but I was playing now, and my cunt was slippery with anticipation. He picked me up by me waist and just managed to drag me over to the fire escape stairs, and knelt me down in front of them. With one hand on my shoulder to keep me down he undid his fly and pulled his cock out of his pants.

‘Now then, Chrissy, I bet tha’s never seen one as big as that before, has tha?’ My father’s was impressive, I could see why he was so keen to use it, but the truth was I had been fucked by at least a dozen bigger ones in the last year since losing my virginity. I felt that to say so at this time would probably have spoilt the mood, though, so I merely dumbly shook my head in awe.

‘Lick it,’ he said, and I eagerly did so. It tasted of male sweat and cigarettes. I felt nauseous and elated. ‘Open up,’ he said. I clamped my lips together. ‘Open up!’ With what I hoped was a scared look I complied. My father roughly pushed his cock down my throat, making me spit it out, and gag and retch on the floor quite genuinely. He pulled my head back and barked ‘Again!’ 

Again I took his cock in my mouth and again he grabbed the back of my head with his free hand and pushed. He was closing up my airway, and I began to struggle for air. He pulled back out.

‘Suck it yourself, then,’ he said. ‘And I won’t have to do the work for yer.’

I was almost disappointed but began to suck eagerly and expertly on his cock, deep throating him voluntarily. I could feel him stiffening, and I waited for the gush, but he pulled me off of him.

‘Nay, love; it’s not ending that quick. I’ve got to test you out proper.’ He grabbed me by the neck and turned me around, pushing me down onto the fire escape. He then quickly lifted up my skirt and pulled down my panties. I was biting my lip. This was exactly how I liked it; I couldn’t let him see I was enjoying it, couldn’t cry out the words that were springing, unbidden, to my lips.

I heard him mutter ‘a little extra lubrication, I think’, and then he put his hands on my arse cheeks and spat on my little pink rectum. I gasped as he rammed himself hard into me again and again. I yelled out a number of times, and after a while I couldn’t stop myself. ‘Oh, yes. Oh, God, Oh Jesus, yes,’ I cried.

‘Yes, you little bitch, you like it, don’t you?’ replied my father, and pounded into me all the harder. Finally he removed himself with a cry of ‘Yes!’ and ran around the side of the fire escape to twist my face around and come into it. I opened my mouth to catch it, but most of it just ran down the side of my nose onto the pavement below. He rammed his cock into my mouth and I sucked all the last juices from it. 

‘I think you really enjoyed that lunch, didn’t you?’ said my father as he removed my knickers before handing stuffing them in his pocket. Then he undid my bonds and replaced his tie. 

I sat up and rubbed my neck, which had become sore rubbing against the step. ‘Bastard,’ I said with some venom. I was sure now that my cousin had told the truth. 

‘Here,’ he said, and flung a business card at me. ‘If you fancy it again just give me a call.’ He walked away up the alley, whistling to himself. He didn’t look back.

I picked up the card and pocketed it. I would call him later on and let him in on the good news of exactly whom he had just ass-fucked. Meanwhile I had the horn like you wouldn’t believe. I needed a proper fucking. And I knew exactly where to get it.