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“You don’t look too happy, love. What’s up?” I heard one morning.
I looked up from my desk, my boss was standing in front of it.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m fine. Just concentrating,” I said, adding a laugh.
“Nah, you don’t look happy. But it’s okay if you want to keep it to yourself. My door’s always open, though.”
He was a nice guy, married with a couple of kids, one of which worked as a builder. I’d met his wife a couple of times and really liked her as well. She’d come to visit and always bought me a cake. She’d warn me about some of the men, encouraging me to answer back to their silly, suggestive remarks. I remembered her saying,they aint brave if you go back at ‘em, love.
I sat for a moment wondering how miserable I looked, and if I was miserable? I wasn’t sure. I had a successful boyfriend; one many girls would love to date. Okay, so the sex wasn’t great, but was that the be all in a relationship?
I sighed. I’d make more of an effort in the bedroom department, maybe take the lead a little more and see what happened. Perhaps I’d buy a book. There must be one I could read to gain a little insight in how to please both Andrew and myself.
With a resolution in mind, I was happier.
* * *
“I’ve been invitedfor drinks after work by the boss tomorrow. He wants to thank us all for this quarter’s results,” I said.
Andrew and I were flicking through estate agent’s brochures having decided to move in together. My flat was too small, and he shared his, so we’d decided to start afresh.
“Did you tell him that you couldn’t go?” he said, not looking up. “Here’s one that might suit and in a good location for my work.”
He pushed a leaflet towards me.
“No, I said I would go. I didn’t think you’d mind. And what about my work?”
My flat was close to where I worked, and his close to his company. Neither were that far away from each other, but the property he was showing me was miles away.
“I think it’s more important that we worry about mine, don’t you? I’ll be the bread winner after all.”
We hadn’t got to the discussion about who was paying what. I assumed we’d just go halves on everything.
“I’m not sure I could afford my half of that property,” I said, sliding it back.
His jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed as he slowly looked up at me. “I don’t think I like your tone,” he said, standing.
“I don’t have any kind of tone; I’m just saying that might be a little too expensive for me. I don’t want you to think that you have to pay for me.”
He slammed his palms on the table, scattering the brochure and loose leaflets.
“Am I not good enough for you now? Been asked out by the boss so you don’t want to live with me, is that it?”
I had no idea how he’d reached that conclusion. I stood and moved around the table to his side. I placed my hand on his cheek.
“You are way more of a man than my boss. You’re more respectable, you earn more, you’re my partner.” I’d learned that making Andrew feel better than anyone else often calmed him down. “I don’t want to go out for drinks with them and if you feel this is the right property, then let’s book an appointment.”
He took in a deep breath.
“Why do you have to always spoil things, Amber? This was meant to be exciting, now I don’t know if I can be bothered.”
He sat back down and picked up the television remote. I tidied up the papers and then sat next to him.
“Let me make you feel better,” I said, rubbing my hand over his crotch.
He leaned back, not taking his eyes off the programme while unzipping his trousers. He freed his cock and then grabbed the hair at the back of my head.
“Want to make me feel better? Suck that,” he said, forcing my head down.
