| Lesbian: First Time: A Test of Faith - Part One (1/7) |
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A Test of Faith Shali Silva This is a five-part story that I've submitted subsequently. I do hope that you enjoy it. Comments would be lovely. Shali * Ohh fuck, that hurt. I stared into the enraged blue eyes of my lover, glancing absently at the perfectly manicured hand that was still partially raised in the air. My left cheek was sore from the spot where she hit me and I wondered if it would leave a bruise. Monica’s chest was heaving, the indecently large mass of her breasts pushing against the low neckline, pink dress. She looked like the perfect Miss Barbie; it was just too bad that I’d cheated on her. “Thanks for that, Monica. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave now,” I said, lifting a hand to my stinging cheek. “Leave? You want me to leave?” she sputtered, her disbelieving eyes locking with mine. ‘She had probably expected an apology,’ I thought inwardly with a sneer. “Yeah. Tell Marie to buzz me when the five o’clock is in, would you?” I said, turning away to light a cigarette, leaning against the railing of the twenty-fifth story’s balcony. A sudden, surprisingly strong hand clamped on my shoulder and pushed me against the railing, holding me in place. The cigarette dangled precariously from between my fingers. Monica pushed against me, making me back up against the black steel that dug into my ass. “Why’d you do it?” she hissed. Her eyes had become red and mascara trailed black goop down her cheek. “Why, Jessie?” I blew a puff of smoke into her face. “Payback’s a bitch, honey.” I think she slapped me again, but I couldn’t feel it. My cheek had gone numb. Through a haze of cigarette smoke, I saw a satin encased ass making its way into the office and disappear from sight. A distant click of the sliding door confirmed that she was gone. Finally. Monica had been a good lover and all, but under all that make-up, she was just as dumb-ass stupid as they came. I never liked her, but she’d made a good bedmate and I’d dumped her when she’d worn on me. She wasn’t any different from the rest of the women I’d dated. I flicked the remains of the cig over the side of the building and made my way into the office. A quick glimpse in the mirror told me that Monica hadn’t done any real damage to my cheek – there wasn’t a handprint or anything – just a little redness was all. I rubbed at the spot soothingly before taking a seat behind the mahogany desk. A file was already open and the numbers and figures were a welcome distraction from my newly lover-less state. It was probably about ten minutes later when there was a buzz at the door. I growled, for I hated being distracted when I was in the middle of calculating something or the other. “What?” I snapped into the speaker that connected me to the person who was on the other side of the door. I knew it wasn’t a client or Marie would have buzzed me first. It was probably one of those pesky attachment |
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cant wait
