0 comments/ 32355 views/ 4 favorites Broomstick By: egmontgrigor2010 CHAPTER 1 Sylvester Tweed violated his wife's rectum, ignoring her screams that she'd changed her mind, and inflamed in desire he rammed her into a submissive blubbering heap. Tweedie as he liked to be called, was upset sufficiently by his wife's uncooperative attitude and unseemly behavior with so much crying to suggest perhaps they ought to split up. Rita didn't even need to think. She shouted "Yes!" and Tweedie who prided himself on his popularity and had only made that offer to make his wife plead for a second chance began to panic. "But why," he bleated. "Because you're an insensitive moronic asshole who deserves to have his nuts cut out, that's why." Aghast, Tweedie shouted: "Then go ahead an divorce me and pay the costs you stupid bitch. You'll not get a dollar beyond my paying my share of legal fees. Fucking you is like fucking a dead coyote." The 35-year-old brunette Rita didn't bother asking how was he able to make that comparison. But she made a mental note to throw the carcasses of 10 coyotes into the pool and then to kick her insensitive, self-centered husband in after them. The couple had no children, although they'd tried for pregnancy in the two months before marriage and in the three years since marriage. The small-minded business owner assumed Rita would walk away with next to nothing and smiling he signed the papers and returned them to the attorney Rita had hired without bothering to read what he was signing or looking into all aspects of divorce. It was only when the 45-year-old was called to a settlement conference and contacted his own attorney that he learned his much younger wife had a legitimate claim on half of their joint assets including the business, in which Rita had been working as company accountant and secretary and was listed as holding 48% of stock, and their mortgage-free home. The company leased their cars. Tweedie was gutted and pleaded with Rita not to proceed with the divorce but she remembered the pain of his anal assault and humiliation and said just two words: "Drop dead." When it was all over following the court order confirming the negotiated settlement based on a clean break between the couple, Tweedie was almost insolvent. The house sold below market value, his ex-wife taking half the net proceeds and he'd borrowed to the hilt to pay her $1.87 million for her share of the assessed valued of their business he'd made over to her at the time of their marriage. Tweedie was anxious to be seen as a successful operator because the Professional and Business Association had chosen him to contest the Lambton City mayoral election. There was wide dissatisfied with the incumbent Mayor who since being elected two terms ago had divorced his wife and married a former night club stripper. Following her divorce settlement Rita reverted to her maiden name of Riley. Divorcee Riley thought she'd date a dozen or so guys and then find a suitable guy to marry, definitely a guy not into anal sex. Simple. A brilliant strategy, or so she thought. She had returned to live with her parents while sorting out her life and replaced their ageing sedan with a new one of his father's choice but unhappily she was unsuccessful with romance, being forced to pay for sex because no one had come calling. She chatted to the madam of the brothel about her predicament. "Rita your problem is you live in a rather small community. Everyone who matters has heard word from your ex-husband you lost your temper and rammed a broom handle up his ass and that's why he divorced you. No man in this city will touch you now. That's why my elite male worker Frank insisted on handcuffing you before having sex with you and you may have noticed he hand a butt plug inserted and insisted I lock our broom cupboards." Rita gritted and said she'd sue Sylvester Tweed and sighed when Mrs Smith warned if she took Mr Tweed to court then everyone would know full details. The news media would report a the case of the husband's allegation of Rita slamming a broomstick up his ass and then Rita giving her explicit version of what really happened to trigger divorce action. "My dear I suggest you are done in this city. With the alleged broomstick story spreading through bars like wildfire you're being cast into a sexual wasteland. No man and for that matter no woman will wish to associate with you sexually. That means you are being classified as a pariah. Rita went home depressed and wondering how a retired prostitute running the city's most discreetly sited brothel was aware of the existence of a word like pariah. She recited to herself a memorable line from childhood reading that she revisited in English studies at high school and also at college. It came from Mark Twain's 'Tom Sawyer': 'Shortly Tom came upon the juvenile pariah of the village, Huckleberry Finn, son of the town drunkard'. She left the city and drove for almost 280 miles before turning off the interstate and booking into the Social Outcast Motel although it was actually named the Flamingo. Miraculously she attained release to her sexual frustration. In the bar after dinner a guy came up to her and offered her a cigarette. She said no she didn't smoke and he said he didn't either and she thought that was a little strange. He bought her a drink and then another and then to her astonishment this guy calling himself Gilbert invited her to his room to watch TV. She said okay. Well that guy was really, really lucky. They didn't switch on the TV and he had a rather small dick but Rita was so thrilled to be hauled out of the wilderness of sexual deprivation that she had poor Gilbert holding on to the bars of the bed-head for dear life as she bucked him, screwed him, and yodeled very badly riding him cowgirl. During Gilbert's battering they both came four times before she ran out of steam. Poor Gilbert. He was covered in sweat and appeared half dead but the heavy panting suggested life was left in him. "Please go now," he pleaded. "Please go." "Thank you for extricating me from the sexual wasteland." "Shove off, you're talking rubbish and I need sleep." Rita dripped her way into his bathroom and showered and when leaving for her room saw poor Gilbert on his back with his mouth wide open and breathing like she'd image someone would breath like running up the mile-long steep include. The silly man; he shouldn't fuck someone like Rita Riley unless he believed he'd last the distance. Rita decided to stay another night at the motel and in the bar after dinner and guy hit on her. She decided she ought to make some cash out of being in demand. "All right I'll come to your room for four hours but it will cost you five hundred bucks." "What are you mad? I've never paid for it in my life." "You are the one who is mad arrogantly thinking you can get casual pussy without charge. Fuck off you miserable man." The guy fled. About twenty-minutes later, a guy who'd been eying Rita came over and invited her to his room. She said sure and she'd stay with him for four hours but it would cost him five hundred bucks. He finished his whisky and looked her over. "What about two-fifty and we dispense with anal?" Rita agreed immediately. Hell she'd forgotten about guys wanting her ass. 'David' as the guy claimed his name was a skilled seducer and worked on Rita until she was near liquidized in ecstasy before he shafted to her and was obviously delighted that she banged back with vigor and unlike many of his casual women didn't squeal like a stuck pig into release well before he was ready to fire. "You're very good." "Thank you David. You worked we up brilliantly and that resulted in a really good fuck, helped by your smooth action I must say." "Thank you. Tell me, why did you charge when clearly you're not a prostitute?" "I just feel happier charging for it. I didn't charge the first guy last night and this morning thought I was silly because it would be useful spending money." "I see. Are you recently split from your husband?" "Yes how did you know that?" "You are confident and sexually competent for a woman in her later thirties and have a wedding ring and yet didn't attempt to hide it." "Good guessing. It's a quality ring so I kept that and my ex took the engagement ring." "Well here's the $250. You can either go or stay and have supper up here with me." "We'll pay for supper out of this money." "No my company will pay it as an entertainment expense. Why did you choose to stay on with me?" "I'm not worth $250 an hour." "I could easily disagree with that. You might be surprised to know how many women fuck badly and my wife is one of them. You rippled my senses this evening. When I said you were very good that actually was an understatement. You engage with the understanding in every way that sex also involves the other person. Most women in my experience only think that the fuck is all about them." "God the bitches." David laughed and said, "Calling my wife a bitch are you?" "Oh David no..." She then realized her didn't really mind so called him a big tease and he liked that. "Tell me what went wrong with your marriage," David said as he called through the supper order and then poured two wines. David was really interested in Rita's detailed account of the things she thought he'd like to hear. "You are right, he was an asshole and you did the right thing Rita but I'd like to say you are doing the wrong thing running away. I suggest you return and try to humiliate the asshole because he's the one who ought to be carrying the fallout, not you. You then should attempt to re-establish yourself in your hometown. Why leave when you really have no wish to?" The longer Rita thought about what David had said the more it appealed to her. After supper she suggested why not have more sex and ended up staying the night with David. They had a great time. As Rita was leaving the room in the morning David gave her his business card and Rita found his name really was David. David Faulkner was director of sales for a pharmaceutical company. "If it doesn't work out at Lambton City and you end up not knowing what to do then gave me a call. We could have some fun while you await your next opportunity." "Thanks," she smiled. "What not kiss?" Rita kissed him soundly and stroked his fringe and said goodbye. "You have single-handedly restored my faith in men." David looked rather astonished. Rita stayed the next night with her parents and the next day found a furnished apartment with immediate possession in the building that had been her first choice. The lease was for a minimum of six months with provision for six-monthly renewals and that suited her just fine. She then went to the city's largest firm of accountants and waited for an hour before another lovely man called David came out with clients at the end of their meeting. "Rita how lovely to see you again," David Gill said. They'd gone through university together. Come through. I can give you fifteen minutes. Coffee?" When he sat beside Rita on the sofa David said, "I heard about your divorce." "And the reason for it?" He grinned and said the alleged reason. "You are too nice to be fiery enough to stick a broom handle up your husband's ass. Let's forget it." "No David. I want to tell my side to it." She told him. There was no embarrassment between them. They'd often fucked at university before David began going steady with Claudia and they'd later married. "Well that sounds more like the truth and I do believe you." "David, my reputation notwithstanding, can you get me a place here as an accountant?" "Sure, join my team. We specialize in small business and you're probably known by most of our string of clients personally. But at the outset it would be best if you assisted and gradually build up your own clients through new clients coming to us." "That's fine, as good as I could reasonably expect. But won't you have to consult your partners first?" "No but I will tell them about you and give them your counter to the broom up the ass story. I'm currently managing partner so make non-referral decisions." "At your peril." "At my peril." "David I'm not sure this is a good idea." "Well I'm comfortable about the decision." David then thought for a moment and said, "What about this. I'll call a partners' meeting for 5:00 today for them to meet you and I'll suggest it will be the time to voice any objection." "Fine I'll find that's the way this should be done under the circumstances." "Good and believe me, they will find your acceptable. You are bound to know some of them." "Great and if you are agreeable I'd like to tell them what happened myself. I'm not ashamed of being violated and want as many people as possible to know." Rita arrived right on 5:00 and partners were already drifting in. David began introducing Rita to individual and when everyone had arrived said, "Well guys I've hired Rita but she's concerned some of you at least may have heard the claim of her ex-husband Sylvester Tweed whom some of you will know. Tweedie claims he divorced Rita because in a fit of rage she rammed a broom handled up his... up his anus. Rita would like to tell you what actually happened." "Good evening. I'll keep it short. My ex husband assaulted me by engaging in anal sex and I pleaded him to stop, saying I'd changed my mind, but he ignored my pleas and went at it with gusto. After the act he said if I didn't like him anymore how about a divorce and I said yes and he said go ahead. A court search will show I was the applicant and so it was I divorcing him. I deny categorically that I ever took to him with a broomstick or ever assaulted him physically in any manner. I am a very competent professional and am confident that I will serve this firm well. However some people believing my ex-husband's story may not wish to deal with me and may even decide not to use the services of any firm that hires me. And so I felt the need to front up and make that statement and answer any questions you might have. Thank you." David said, "I hereby disclose that Rita and I were in the same class as me at university and we graduated together. As far as I'm concerned I have no misgivings about Rita's professional competence or her moral standards. She will be employed here as an accountant subject to this meeting approve of her being hired. Any questions?" David waited fifteen seconds and said there were no questions and then said, "I propose that Rita Riley be hired as a general accountant in this practice and build up her own clientele." All partners raised their hand in favor. "Thank you everyone. Rita is leaving now and will start here in the morning." As Rita walked to the door several of the partners, including two females shook her hand and congratulated her. Rita was aware she had taken the first big step in her social reinstatement. Driving home Rita wondered how she could stick it to Tweedie without using a broom handle. The 37-year-old dismissed thoughts of knifing his car tires and vandalizing his office or writing to Tweedie's bank manager saying her ex-husband had told her he would be unable to meet any further mortgage payments. They were all childish actions and could all land her in court as a result of police investigations and Tweedie probably would tell everyone talking to him in bars her letter to the bank was the action of a deranged woman who'd threatened to kill him. She could then be fired from Lambton Accountancy Services Partnership and her reputation would take a king hit. No she'd have to take on Tweedie publicly and humiliate him, but how? Yeah how? Next morning in Rita's first hour at the office four partners came to her in succession, each presenting her with the file of one of their clients whom they'd confirmed was happy to be transferred to Rita. Then late morning Jeff Hart arrived with two women and introduced them as Mrs Moira Fleming, president and Miss Stefani Crosetti, secretary, of the Lambton United Women's League. "These ladies would be delighted to have a female accountant doing the books of the league that we do at reduced rates that apply to worthy community service organizations," said Jeff. "Well ladies I'll leave you in the capable hands of Rita." "That you Jeff. Coffee ladies?" They said yes. "Jeff told us you have been slandered by your ex-husband dishonestly claiming you stuck a broom up his ass." "Yes Mrs Fleming..." "Oh please call me Moira." "Yes Moira but there is little I can do about it expect to take him to court but that could give him a real opportunity to make more vindictive false accusations against me. If I'm to take any direct action it would have to be in public but not in a courtroom and then we could slug it out." "Well he's standing for the mayoral election that's two months away. Why not stand against him. There's your forum and a perfect opportunity to slug it out." "Good god Moira my reputation has been shattered in this city by my ex husband spreading that crazy claim about broomstick up the ass." "Calm down Rita and please call me Stefani. You don't have to win election and you don't even have to have City Hall experience. As an attorney I can say if you don't have a criminal record and are over twenty-one years of age you can stand for election. We'll have no problem finding sufficient women who themselves have been victims of sexual brutality to sign your candidacy petition." "Good heavens, how amazing. But unfortunately there is a big problem." "Oh." "Stefani I have no interest in standing because I'm not a political person and being under such a spotlight could affect me professionally and threaten my employment." Moira smiled and said mysteriously, "Well never mind dear, just leave it to us and our network. Now let us explain the financial position of our society and say how happy we are to have a female accountant although Jeff was very charming and efficient to deal with." Lambton Accounting was large enough to run an internal café for its personal and on her first day Rita took the last empty seat at a table of seven female support staff and said hi, she was new to the office. A receptionist said, "Accountants don't usually sit with us Miss Riley but we do welcome you aboard." "Well it's time accountants recognized they are part of a team, not the elite," Rita said. "I learned that between semesters at university when working in a small accountancy office and influenza had knocked out our six support staff who were crammed in the one office. I practically ran the office by myself for a week because none of the partners knew how to work the new photo-copier, who serviced it and what times were the courier pickups." Everyone at the table looked impressed. Rita said, "Look guys I want you to know something. I'm the woman rumored to have stuck a broom handle up the butt of her ex husband." A couple of the women said yes they knew while the others looked agog. "Well that rumor was my husband either attempting to put in knife in me or he was on some dope and hallucinating. Here's my account of what happened..." The women chorused goodbye Rita when she left the table as soon as she'd finished and returned to her office. Someone emailed to every female working for Lambton Accounting details about the Rita and the broomstick and her response. Within two days everybody on the payroll appeared to know Rita and she was being treated like a cult heroine. So far so good. Then with Rita's approval a quarter page advertisement under the logo of Lambton Accounting appeared in the business section of the Lambton Herald. It read: The Partners of Lambton Accounting Services announce the appointment of Rita Riley as a Small Business Accountant to reinforce our service in this section of our business. Broomstick Prior to her appointment Rita our new accountant informed the partners she was the woman rumored to have placed a broomstick up the posterior of her former husband. The partners heard Rita's total rebuttal of that claim and interestingly we found no complaint had been made to the police about that alleged incident. We also confirmed that Rita had an impeccable personal record throughout her life in this city including at university. The twelve partners including myself agreed the rumor against Rita of physical assault was an utter fabrication and a mindless defamatory attack and agreed to hire Rita Riley as a valued acquisition to our business. DAVID GILL Managing Partner Throughout her ordeal Rita had acted tough but with restraint. Therefore it was understandable when she arrived back in her office from a meeting mid-morning on the day that newspaper advertisement was published and found a huge bouquet of flowers on her desk with the card, 'From the Females at Lambton Accounting', she burst into tears. Wiping her eyes Rita believed that feeling of being a victim had been exorcised. Two business woman called Rita that day to make appointments to discuss their accounting requirement and three more made appointments the following day. The next day the president of the Lambton Professional and Businesswoman's Fellowship invited Rita to lunch were she asked Rita to be guest speaker at the group's next monthly luncheon. Rita accepted and assumed these developments meant her name had been cleared as far as possible. She was so grateful about the level of support she'd received. An hour later she received a call from a voice she recognized. "Hi Tweedie." "I'd hoped you'd left town for good." "Why should I?" Tweedie said her presence could interfere with his election prospects. Aware that he'd already announced his intention to contest the mayoral election Rita feigned curiosity and asked, "What election is that?" "The mayoralty you stupid bitch." "Oh my apologies. It was my impression candidates were expected to be moral, intelligent and upstanding citizens with business acumen and displaying leadership qualities." "God you have a sharp tongue. Well I'm advising you to hold your tongue and say nothing more about that alleged rumor about you sticking a broom into me. I was appalled when I first heard it but of course we are all powerless against rumor." "I see no reason to continue to repair my reputation by denying that incident. It's gone as far as I can take it. Are you calling wanting to hire me as your accountant?" "Get fucked," Tweedie said, cutting the call. That rude goodbye reminded Rita she was neglecting that part of her life. At a nearby bar on Friday with other accountants from the office a fresh-faced young accountant called Henry Poole asked would she go to dinner with him that evening. Rita whispered, "Only if it's your policy to try to have sex on first dates." Henry looked close to panic. "Come on Henry be upfront." "Yes," he croaked. "Oh Rita please be careful with me. I'm not all that experienced as mom made me promise I'd keep away from women while I went through college and I gave away most of my good chances." "Most?" Blushing Henry admitted one or two female students had broken down his resistance. Rita was beginning to regret this but actually Henry turned out to be okay. He took a room in the hotel where they dinned and later almost whined and said, "If you ever meet my mother please never tell her the sex was your idea. She'll half-kill me and accuse me of being a wimp." Rita sighed and decided it would be wrong to suggest to Henry he ought to stay away from his mother. In the room Rita said after they'd messed around a bit, "Pull it out and let me see what you've got Henry." "What with the lights on?" Rita sighed and turned out all the lights while Henry struggled to unknot his tie. She left a reading lamp on. She was gentle with Henry, allowing him to do all the banging. He was well-equipped and they bypassed fellatio and cunnilingus simply because he didn't press for those activities and when Henry inserted and said, "Please tell me what you like; I don't mind following a woman's instructions," Rita worked happily at teaching Henry how to stop pussyfooting and to fuck robustly to give any woman what she really wants when offering her pussy. She went home with the right attitude, feeling that she had been fucked. But that would be the last of Henry. He really was too much of a bedroom gentleman for her. The next week a Leo Watson contacted the office looking for a new accountant and was put through to Rita and they arranged to meet over lunch. It was a hot day and Rita was wearing a tight black leather skirt, a white shirt with ruffled shawl collar and black high heels. As the maitre d' took her to the table and Leo stood Rita felt his eyes rake her... well she perhaps she was aware he was taking just a little more than a glance. Instinctively she pulled in her tummy and took a deep breath but unfortunately tripped over a chair leg and went sprawling against the maitre d' who managed to keep both of them on their feet. Rita felt strong arms around her and one hand cupping her right breast and heard Leo say in quite a deep voice, "I have her. Thanks for saving my guest from falling." The maitre d' checked that Rita was okay and left and Rita whispered to Leo did he want her breast or could she have it back. "Oh sorry," he grinned, letting go of her. "It's a while since I've had a good handful." Rita blushed and he swallowed and pulled out a chair for her. "I think this is an auspicious start to a good working relationship," he smiled. "I think so too," she said with a bit of a flutter of eyelashes but hers were so short she didn't think he would notice but then she was sure he murmured, "Very sexy." She wondered if he ever committed adultery. She later received indisputable confirmation that he did. CHAPTER 2 The race for the mayoralty reduced down to three prime candidates, the incumbent Mayor Arch Lauder, Tweedie and Felicity Brandt, owner of three very popular fitness centers. In interviews published in the Herald, Mayor Lauder claimed he deserved re-election based on his proud record. Mrs Brandt said the city was under-governed and was well overdue to have a community minded businesswoman at the helm. Mr Tweed was reported as saying the city needed a new generation businessman to lead it forward and he had the ideas and the passion to do just that. The first public event the three candidates attended was a luncheon sponsored by Lambton United Women's League. The majority of people packing the hall were female. League president Mrs Moira Fleming welcomed the three candidates and introduced them. She said that could each speak for ten minutes and then answer questions. All went smoothly and she called for questions after Tweedie had given his short address but she said, "I'll ask the first question. Mr Tweed is it true you had a broomstick or similar object inserted into your person?" "God no, certainly not. I can't understand why anyone would start such a foul rumor," Tweedie said, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. "Well that clears up that despicable rumor," Moira smile. "Thank you for your honesty. The press is present and I hope your denial is noted." "Mrs Thelma Smith," Moira called, although no one had a hand raised. "Mr Tweed, my husband Trevor is prepared to sign an affidavit that he and two friends who are prepared to sign affidavits were told by you in the Anchor Bar that your wife had shoved a broomstick up your ass and you were divorcing her. What have you say to that? Be honest now." "I deny those allegations and have nothing further to say about that. Next questions please." Moira called Stefani Crosetti. "I trust you will have appropriate success in this election." Tweedie smiled. "Thanks for that kind remark. I look forward to your question." "Perhaps you won't like my question Tweedie. I have searched court records and found your wife lodged the application for dissolution of your marriage. What have you to say to that? Apparently you have been publicly claiming you divorced your wife." Tweedie reacted angrily. "This is a deliberate set-up to attempt to run my campaign off the rails. I'm leaving." Tweedie walked out to the humiliating sound of slow hand-clapping. "Oh this is very distressing for us, exposing a candidate who can't stand the heat in the kitchen when it goes against him and his veracity is in question," said Moira. "We now give the two remaining candidates five minutes each for their wind-up speech." The report of mayoral candidate Sylvester Tweed walking out of a public meeting after his veracity was questioned about his divorce and rumors made against his ex-wife made front page of the Herald next morning. Tweedie was ordered to attend an emergency meeting of the executive of the city's Professional and Business Association at noon that same day. The association had placed $10,000 into his campaign fund. Tweedie spoke desperately to keep his backers onside and the executive agreed to stick with him but urged him to ensure none of the other two meetings was stacked with detractors. "I guarantee that this smear campaign had ended," Tweedie said and got away with that, no one asking how did he propose to prevent further public outbursts. Tweedie went to the Herald and was interviewed about what he called 'An orchestrated feminists campaign against him simply because he was a divorcee'. Part of the interview published next morning read: Reporter: But the Mayor is also a divorcee although since remarried. Mr Tweed: Well then I guess those female activists are guilty of discriminating behavior because the third candidate is also a divorcee. Reporter: Do you deny hating your former wife? Mr Tweed: Yes I deny it absolutely. I still love my ex-wife and call her most days. A panel within that article stated: The Herald contacted the former Mrs Tweed, Miss Rita Riley, to ask did Mr Tweed call her most days. "I deny that absolutely," said the attractive, pleasant and very articulate Miss Riley. "The last thing I really remember my ex husband saying to me was making love to me was like making love to a dead coyote. I was outraged and perhaps it was fortunate no broom was in reach." That article was published next morning and immediate radio and TV news and commentators were into the act. Rita appeared on breakfast TV and the interviewer Mary-Anne Bell frowned and said they'd invited mayoral candidate Sylvester Tweed to appear for this interview with his former wife. "Here is what he had to say when I called him." The recorded voice said, "Stick your program. I'm not going near that bitch. If she were a coyote I'd really take care of her." "How would you do that Mr Tweed?" "You dumb bitch. Use your imagination if you have one." "Wow, that was mayoral candidate Sylvester Tweed all riled after reading this morning's Herald that published the interview he requested with its award-winning political writer Samuel Stead. "Miss Riley can we clear up this issue. Did you ever take to your ex-husband with a broomstick?" "No never. I'm not a violet person even when mad." "Was Mr Tweed ever violent to you?" "Very rarely." "Please describe those incidents." "No because I don't wish to jeopardize his election prospects." "Will you vote for him?" "No my vote will go to Mayor Lauder. As Mayor he's not been as progressive as some would wish and no conservative enough as some would wish. Therefore that balance he's achieved in taking the city forward as leader of local government is probably about right." "Do you still love your former husband?" "No." "Why not." "I rather not say." "Who spread the rumor about you sticking a broomstick in the direction of your husband?" "I suggest you ask him that question." "Are you implying something?" "Oh good guess." "My impression is you don't sound bitter about your husband." "Correct, after my initial unhappiness I told myself to restart my adult life and reestablished myself as a public accountant and I'm doing that. As for my ex-husband I'm completely over him." "Well finally do you wish your ex-husband who is known widely as Tweedie, well in his election bid?" "No. That's the answer my legal adviser gave me, expecting you to ask that question. You have been very pleasant in conducting this interview and I thank you for your courtesy and no my legal adviser didn't suggest I thank you like that." "Wow. Thank you Miss Rita Riley now works in our city as a public accountant in the practice of Lambton Accountancy Services Partnership. Isn't she lovely? Our next news bulletin follows." As the interview finished Tweedie sighed and called the director of the Professional and Business Association. "Hi Phil did you see my ex-wife's interview?" "Yeah Tweedie." "I'll officially withdraw from the election this morning. I've only spent $4000 from the fund so will refund you $6000." "We want our full ten grand back." "Sorry Phil, bad line. Bye." After placing his business for sale with a business broker Tweedie set off to formerly withdraw from the election. It was rather humiliating with several people calling out, "Where's your broom Tweedie" but he'd expected that. The business broker called David Gill and reported he had the listing. "Tell your client our partnership is offering fifty grand under his asking price with an immediate settlement and the only condition is that the business be left as a going concern." "Right I'm on to it David." The broker called back an hour later to report a done deal. David said he'd on-sell the wet-weather and industrial clothing company fairly soon and would expect to make a tidy profit. "You will David. Properly financed it's a cash cow." * * * After that breakfast TV interview, Rita thought it was time to be proactive about her sex life that she thought was little more than a dribble. She had an idea and called the David of her one-night stand, David Faulkner who was director of sales for a pharmaceutical company. When he answered she said brightly, "Hi it's the Broomstick Lady reporting to you on my rehabilitation in this community. It's going well." "Hi Rita. Surprised I remembered your name so easily?" "No because you remember your good fucks." He stalled slightly and then laughed easily. "You caught me there. I was expecting you to say that being in sales it was my business to recall names?" "Well yes and I decided to deliver something unexpected to shake your from your lethargy. I had been hoping to have had a call or even a visit from you." "Well I am married and there was the question of you working for reinstatement. Those two negatives were sufficient for me to place my passion for you on the back-burner." "Oh come on David, I can't have made that great an impact on you." "For three days or so after I was with you I thought about you a great deal, even when I was having sex with my wife." "Oooh." He laughed and said he'd been smitten by her. "Rita you are the easiest woman to talk to and to relax with that I've ever met. You will understand that the passing days at the apparent hopelessness of the situation deflated my passion?" "Oooh I hope that's all that has been left deflated." "It is hardening as we speak," he chuckled. "I must go as I have a sales meeting to chair. I'll call in a day or two when I work out my scheduled. I'm thinking of swinging your way to say hi face to face. Oh my wife is divorcing me, amicably I must say. Her complaint is I spend far too much time away from home. Everything has been settled so perhaps in four months I will free of my biggest critic." "Oh David, I'm sorry about that. It must bring unhappiness to your both." "Actually we both see it as a solution, but thank you for expressing your concern so beautifully. That's one of the things I love about you Rita. Now I really must go. Bye." Rita felt giddy. God David's marriage was in the process of being dissolved. She'd love it if he hooked up with her, even on an irregular basis. But the thing that had really stirred her was his use of just one word: he'd said 'one of the things I love about you' whereas most people would have said 'one of the things I really like about you'. Was that intentional and therefore very significant or had she misread it? She decided to regard it as significant although he'd not made any attempt to contact her and that was a bit of a worry. The other David called Rita and invited her to lunch. An hour later they met at a nearby restaurant. David chose a light beer and she a dry French white wine she liked as an aperitif. "I must say you have settled in so well as so very quickly," he smiled. "Yet I should have expected that because you always were a classy person." "Thank you David. So kind." He grinned. They chatted until their drinks arrived and David then said he had something important to tell he. "My partners and I possess an unconditional sales agreement with Tweedie to buy his business as a going concern." That quite stunned Rita. "Omigod does that mean he'll leave town?" "I believe so. He's been under financial pressure since his divorce and so we have purchased at fifty grand below the average value reached in two independent appraisals. Tweedie told me he was eager to leave the city because he'd been absolutely humiliated." "Oh poor Tweedie," Rita giggled. David smiled and said, "That's my girl. I relished this opportunity to shaft him for him. In our boardroom we called it the broomstick purchase. I hope you don't mind that?" "Not at all. Good thinking because none of you will have to think now what property was that?" "So we are in agreement that deal is good for us?" "Yes absolutely. It actually is a damn good company as brand loyalty is holding despite the inroads into the market by foreign suppliers. I am also thrilled that this purchase probably represents the permanent exit from the city of my wretched ex-husband. Thank you David." He smiled and nodded and then said he wanted Rita to accept the position of chairman of the reorganized structure of the company to apply from the date the partnership took control of its asset. He proposed initially Rita would need to spend four hours a day over at the company's offices, using Tweedie's office. "This arrangement would continue until we quit the purchase and that could be as early as three to four months. Part of your responsibility will be to find a new buyer." "Well I suppose I have the advantage over other accountants here is that I've already partly managed the company," Rita said modestly. "Is that a yes?" "Yes and thank you for your confidence in me. Managing assets through transition is something accountants do." Back in her office Rita called the pharmaceutical company and left a message for David Faulkner to call her and he called twenty minutes later. "Hi again," she said brightly. "Hi Rita. I was thinking of calling you anyway. I've decided we should get something going between us." "Yes but let me ask, what academic qualification do you possess?" "An MBA and a bachelor's in sales and marketing." "Oh excellent. An opportunity has come up here that may well interest you and if you have any money left after your divorce you might wish to invest in the company as well as run it as managing-director and CEO. The company makes wet-weather and industrial clothing and its continuing success against increasing foreign competition rests on product quality, brandings and sales and marketing, exactly the areas pharmaceutical companies must excel at because they too face strong competition." Broomstick "I could be very, very interested. My two superiors here are in their early fifties and so I know I must go elsewhere to advance. To be honest I had not thought of becoming involved in business ownership. But now the idea really appeals." Rita laughed and said good man. "Now for disclosures," she said. "The business owned by my former husband has being purchased by the accountancy partnership where I now work. They were expecting to dress up the company and then flick it on but I could prevent them from pouring in more money because that would only raise their asking price." David said good thinking. "The other disclosure is I have just been appointed executive chairman of the restructured administration of that company in which I partly managed for almost four years. One of my responsibilities will be to find the new owner. If you are interested in making the purchase after due diligence I can tell you I'll be prepared to take up at least 40% ownership and have the cash to do that. Well that's it really. You would need to come here and look at what's involved if you are interested." "Is it convenient for me to visit this weekend?" "I'll have to make arrangements to tour the facility with my ex but that ought not be a problem. We take over in twenty-four days from today. I'll advise you about that but look, come anyway and you can stay with me in my apartment. Are you not too shy to sleep with me are you?" "Grrrrrrrrr." "Ooooh thank you. David should you not proceed with any business proposal with me I'd still like you to settle here and live with me." "Why?" "God you're such a tease," she giggled. "Place your hand on your dick; it will tell you why." "God you are so coarse," he laughed and said that in the tone of intimacy lovers use. THE END Broomsticks and Locomotion Pt. 01 Constitutions and Locomotion Part 1 The house had been boring for quite some time. Things were different, there was no escaping it. Ever since the night we fought off the Nazis, everything else had become a pale shade of itself. Where was the thrill in doing housework after striding through a battlefield rife with guns, explosions and walking suits of armour? The answer sadly was "nowhere" and there it stayed for a long time. Our parents' death hadn't helped of course. It felt like some cruel irony that we survived a head on assault from the Germans with Miss Price but my parents' home was struck by a bomb, dropped by a plane, flown by a man they had never even seen. We had all been thankful that Miss Price and Emelius offered to adopt us. We were bored but at least we were alive and we had each other; a close family to get you through the tough times that came later. Britain had won the war but was almost completely crippled itself in the process. We ourselves would've starved if it wasn't for Emelius' connections in the criminal underworld. He, as always, was nothing more than a simple street hustler with a waxed moustache, but found himself wielding a certain level of influence. Miss Price's home was large and out the way, so provided a prime location for an unofficial warehouse, storing a plethora of stolen goods for those willing to pay. It was hard keeping quiet during that time, unsure who it was safe to confide in, so I subsumed myself in any crime literature I could lay my hands on. If I was going to be a criminal, why not surround myself with such things? I loved everything I cast my eyes over, finding myself drawn toward the danger of it all with growing enthusiasm. Soon I moved onto other fiction, then non-fiction, periodicals, autobiographies, journals. It was like my mind had finally realised I could do anything I wanted, be anyone I wanted, not just in word but in reality as well. I didn't have to forever be the illiterate, wise-talking Cockney girl I had been raised to be; I was free. The notion solidified, set and without anyone else knowing, I had started to become what I had always thought a woman should be. One very-late night I was staying up again, finishing off another of the tome-like biographies that littered the library. No-one else was awake. I could hear the rafters of the house settling and the low groan of the wind blowing under one of the window-frames in the study. I turned the page and something fell into my lap. It was a small, rectangular booklet, made out of old, cheap, yellowing paper. Years later I would find out that the booklet was called a Tijuana Bible but at the time I had no idea. The only thing I noticed (and kept my eyes locked on) was the cover. A beautiful, busty young girl with long black hair standing, embarrassed and totally naked, in front of three ogling men. I felt the rush of excitement instantly. My heart began to race but I didn't know why. I knew of course what sex was, having not only my old friends who told me of their exploits but also the wealth of diagrams, sketches and detailed articles in the library's books. This feeling though, was something completely new. There was something dirty about the picture, which in turn made my heart flutter wildly. I looked cautiously through the pages and the breathing started becoming heavier. I pored over the simple comic strip; reading and re-reading the story of the girl in the cold. The girl, having just bathed, steps out of the house for a moment when her towel blows off. She grabs for it, running after the thing down the street. She meets three young men who admire her, grope her and then have sexual intercourse with her in a variety of different positions; quite forcefully. I felt hot and flustered, so quickly returned the booklet to its hiding place and went to bed. It was difficult getting to sleep that night. As time went on, I started sneaking looks at the booklet when I knew everybody else was asleep. Each and every time I had the same heated reaction. Soon my vagina began to tingle when I thought about the book; later it began to ache. I started touching myself. It started with me tracing my fingers across the skin on the top of my arm, then my belly button and neck, then my breast and finally settling my hand gently on my pussy. The aching was instantly replaced with satisfaction; a kind of continuing intense relaxation. My hand was always on the top of my underwear; those days I thought it must be 'wrong' in some way, so reasoned it was okay as long as I never actually touched the bare skin surrounding my vagina. The sessions would go on for hours at a time; me slowly masturbating over the same erotica comic, night after night. Every time I came close to an orgasm I would stop, rest then restart after the sensation died down. The feeling was scary back then, I still felt uncomfortable letting myself go to that degree. Without a friend of my own age to talk to at the time, I had no-one to tell me that it was all perfectly natural. Miss Price wouldn't have even known the meaning of the word 'cum'. And so I would've stayed if it hadn't been for the smuggling. There had been a few good years after the war, times were changing and I had just turned eighteen. Emelius had managed to amass a fortune in illicit trade but it wasn't enough for him. He had found it impossible to change his ways, having relied on his conman persona so heavily for so many years. When the profit in hoarding dried up he tried to convince Miss Price to sell the estate. I never heard the full argument but caught certain words and intonations through the wall. Even if I hadn't, I would've noticed the tense atmosphere. Emelius and Miss Price didn't speak to each other publicly anymore, which meant the house was silent the majority of the time. It all seemed a long way from the idyllic picture I had imagined when we first became a family. Life had become a slog and my little comic was the only thing that kept me going. The arguments between Emelius and Miss Price became venomous after they stopped having sex; curses took the place of the barely audible moans from the master bedroom. They no longer had anything left in common and I saw the strain in Emelius' appearance. He looked tired; drawn; irritated. Woe betide anyone who tried to spark up conversation with him. One night the stress of money, sex and dissatisfaction caused Emelius to come looking for me. It was late, far later than my nocturnal reading sessions. While I slept, Emelius snuck quietly into my room, stared at me for a short while then finally slunk away. I'm not sure how long this had been going on for. It was only when, one night spent too long in the company of erotica, I barely had time to pull the covers over me before he appeared. I had thought Emelius had heard me amusing myself in the library. I opened my eyes as much as I dared and watched him as he stared at me. His hand was gripping the bulge in his pyjama bottoms and gently rubbing it up and down. After ten minutes he left but that wasn't the last I saw of him. For weeks it was the same routine. Emelius would appear in my room, touch himself then leave. After a while I cautiously started caressing my pussy. The feeling was exhilarating knowing Emelius would've been mortified if he knew I was awake when he visited me. I could only imagine the look on his face if he knew I was masturbating right alongside him. I still hadn't cum but now it had become something of a problem. I positively loved stroking my cunt through my underwear but before I could reach orgasm, the intense sensation would cause me to stop. I just couldn't physically bring myself to any kind of climax and it was becoming tiresome. I no longer rested when masturbating; I continued on for hours just trying to reach satisfaction. My hand slunk below my knickers but still, I didn't cum. I started to bury my fingers as deep as I could in my tight hole but still, I just couldn't cum. Some nights I would completely soak my bed-sheets and nightdress with my excretions but still went to sleep restless. The aching returned and I became irritable and short-tempered. I needed release. I desperately needed to orgasm! So I devised a plan. I was going to seduce Emelius. I was going to be a honey trap. It was a solid enough concept; make a good situation look even sweeter to entice him in, then 'snap!', you bolt the doors and trap the poor bastard. It worked in so many crime novels I'd read so I could only hope such an idea would work in real life. The night rolled around and I waited, idly thumbing my vulva, trying to keep myself calm and collected. I heard the unmistakable sound of someone creeping down the hallway outside my room. Quickly and before I could hesitate, I turned to face away from the door, hitched my night-dress up over my bum and tried to lay the quilt in such a way that made it look like I had simply rolled over in bed. My soaking labia felt cold and sticky, exposed to the open air like that. I could just about make out the intoxicating aroma amongst the mix of old linen, varnish and moth-balls. Emelius entered. My exposed behind must've been quite a shock to the old man's heart. I'm certain I heard him gasp slightly. It must've been quite a sight, my glistening pussy highlighted in the moonlight pouring through the window. For a moment I thought I'd completely misread the situation. It sounded as if Emelius was trying to leave the room, his shaking hand grasping clumsily for the doorknob. I had no need to worry though, Emelius was locking the door. The honey trap had worked! Now all I had to do was lie there and wait. Emeilius tip-toed over to my bed; I could hear his heavy breathing already. I had thought the first thing he would do was touch my labia but instead he lowered his head and just smelt my pussy. For a while I couldn't figure out what he was doing and it was driving me wild. Soon though I heard the sniffing and felt the light brushes of the tip of his nose and the edges of a moustache on my naked flesh. Once or twice he brushed past my clitoris. I was so wet I felt a bead of juice start to gently roll out of my engorged cunt and trickle, slowly and stickily down the inside of my thigh and onto the bed underneath me. Suddenly Emelius rammed his tongue into my vagina. The sensation was too sudden and intoxicating to stifle myself. Without thinking I pushed my pussy backwards onto Emelius' face and let out a gasp. Instantly I prayed my sigh hadn't been loud enough to hear. It apparently wasn't as Emelius seemed to instantly regret his momentary lapse of control. He jerked his face away, stood up and sounded like he was trying to unlock the door. I was annoyed, infuriated that he refused to take advantage of something practically offered to him. I could feel my labia positively burning; my roasting, soaking loins, more wet than I had ever known before. There was only one more thing I could try. I turned, freezing Emelius to the spot. I didn't open my eyes but instead rolled over in the bed to face the doorway, flicking the covers away to make out that I had been too hot while sleeping. The top few buttons of my night dress were open (as I'd undone them slightly earlier while waiting for Emelius) causing one of my breasts to fall out. The slight cold breeze emanating from the window instantly caused my nipple to become erect; the light, tingling sensation sending cold shivers of excitement down my spine. Emelius stared at me again for a long while; breast exposed, night dress around my waist, pussy revealed and aromatic; an increasingly damp patch spreading out from beneath my buttocks. It was all too much for the old man. He moved over to me again but this time sounded far surer in his movements. Emelius placed one hand on my pussy and sat down slowly on the bed. He took three long strokes of my pussy, forcefully manipulating it. I wanted to cry, the feeling felt so good. All too quickly though Emelius stopped the massage and gently grabbed the inside of my leg and turned me on my side. I screwed my eyes tightly together as he lay down behind me. I vividly remember how hot he felt, the heartbeat thumping in his chest. I could smell the sweat and feel his rigid penis poking into my lower back. It took him around half an hour of dry humping before he finally built up the nerve to unleash his cock and tease my pussy with it. I was in pain. I wanted him inside of me so badly. Suddenly he sank his cock into my immature, waiting cunt. It was so pleasurable, the shattering of my hymen barely even registered in my mind. Even today (after a considerable number of experiences) I still look back on that night and positively ooze with lust. His penis felt massive, though in truth it was never a particularly good example of the species. The experience felt like it would never end. Without warning (and all too close to what felt like an orgasm) Emelius stopped. I feared that he may have ejaculated prematurely; unsure what such a thing felt like. Emelius' hand appeared on my vulva again as he withdrew his soaking member. The fingers caressed my pubic hair, curled down over my clitoris and through the crinkled lips of my cunt. He dipped his digits into me and far as he could; stretching all my already worn, but still wanting, hole. I could still feel his wetted cock pressed up against my back as the skin around my genitalia stretched. If I had been more experienced and less keen, I may have wondered why Emelius was so thoughtfully soaking his hand in my beautiful juices. I was shocked then when he suddenly took his fingers from my pussy and then quickly reached round and started to part my buttocks. His index finger coated my anus in vaginal juices before plunging straight into my rectum. Caught unawares, I opened my eyes and tried to cry out. Within an instant Emelius' right hand passed under my neck and clamped tightly across my mouth. "Shush girl!" he whispered hoarsely into my ear. The finger retracted, stopping short of my sphincter, where it tickled my entrance before ramming straight back in. Muscles clenched but this time, as it contracted, the sensation of his fingers slipping past the muscle was exquisite. For a while, uncomfortable pain mixed with an increasingly filthy enjoyment. A second finger was inserted, tipping the balance back in the favour of pain. I winced and let out a momentary gasp. "Touch yourself girl." Emelius demanded. Having left the charade of sleep behind, I complied willingly. My lips were still red hot, my clitoris rock-hard beneath puffed labia. I wanted to groan but I was terrified someone might hear and interrupt. Emelius must've noticed by the look on my face as he removed his fingers from my bum and rammed his cock back into my vagina. A shudder of delight passed through my body. "You're wet, girl. You filthy little bitch! You're enjoying this." I was. God, I was! "Please," I whispered, almost inaudibly, "fuck me, Emelius. Do whatever you want." The old man didn't reply, instead he moved his dick from my cunt and pressed it hard up against my anus. For a moment it resisted before sinking back into my bowel. I dug as many fingers as I could into my sopping pussy and bit hard down into the corner of the pillow. For a time I mirrored the speed he fucked my arse, before increasing the rhythm. Emelius followed suit, finding it easier to slide into my behind as my body relaxed. I pulled my hand out and jammed my fingers into my mouth, sucking the delicious concoction from them. Evidently Emelius found this engaging, switching holes again to pound my pussy savagely. I let out a muffled cry and his cock returned to my bum and carried on its frantic pace. Neither my pussy nor my anus posed a match to his passion. While he fucked one recess, the other stayed pursed and ready, waiting another assault. Whenever I could I slipped my fingers back into my cunt. My pulse raced and I began to babble to myself. I could feel myself reaching climax but I had no time to linger on such thoughts. Emelius grabbed my shoulder and started deep fucking me as long as he could. He stuck his fingers in my mouth then crumpled into a series of gasps and grunts. He erupted into the deepest recesses of my rectum. The spasms receded then for a few moments pumped more semen into me. My vagina clenched hard, the tingling pulse of energy coursed through my cunt which itself clenched tight time and time again. I tried to express the sensation in sound but words wouldn't come; just the rush and the aftershocks. I lay there, trembling with delight, as Emelius slowly drained the last of his seed into my bum. All I heard from him was a single, protracted sigh as he pulled his member from my slightly stinging hole. He left without saying a word or even looking back, off back upstairs to lie back down next to Miss Price. I wasn't upset, he'd done what I wanted him to and I was sure he'd be back the next chance he got. I lay there in the moonlight, my night dress around my waist, running fingers through what little pubic hair I did have. No-one had told me what semen did after it had been ejaculated inside of you. It was a hidden delight to feel it slowly but surely trickle out of my arsehole, down my cheeks and down onto the bed. My hand reached down and scraped some of the deposit up into my palm. I took my time licking every last remnant of it off. The pure filth of it sent the same familiar tingle of lust through me; within moments I found myself getting wet again. I lowered my now clean hand back down to caress myself. I still had energy to orgasm again and I had a long night ahead of me. THE END OF PART #1