Masters And Lovers 1-4

*****

Al arrives home to find his wife waiting in the hallway with a suitcase. “Eve? Where are you going?”

Her voice is almost conversational. “I’m leaving.”

Slack-faced, he stares at her. “Leaving? What do you mean?”

“What part of the word don’t you understand, Al? Leaving. As in going away and not coming back. I’m only here now because I’m waiting for a taxi. I’m picking Shelley up from school. Then I’m going.”

Panicked now, “Why? What’s wrong? What’s happened…?”

For reply, she stabs a finger towards a letter on the telephone table. Headed in red. ‘Notice of Repossession’. “I couldn’t have stayed much longer anyway. None of us could. They’re taking the house, Al. And you didn’t even have the decency to tell me.”

Wild-eyed, he snatches up the letter. “No. It’s a mistake. I just need to catch up a little. I’m nearly there….”

Her mouth pinched, “Oh, give me a break will you. I’ve seen the rest of it too….” Eve huffs a laugh that has nothing to do with humour…. “…. or at least as much as I could find. You’re going to need new locks on your desk.”

The hoot of a car horn comes from outside. “There’s my taxi. Bye, Al. Have a good life, whatever you decide to do with it.”

She turns, opens the door and makes for the cab waiting out on the road.

“Eve…. Wait. Please… At least tell me where you’re going.”

“I’m staying with my sister to start with. I’ll take it from there when I figure what to do next.”

“What about Shelley? The boys?”

“Shelley’s going with me. As for Stephen and David, they’re old enough to make up their own minds. I asked them, and they said they want to stay with you. They’re both earning now, so I suppose they can help you with the rent wherever you end up.” She turns away, stepping into the taxi.

“Eve…” He calls after her, but the car pulls away and disappears around the corner.

It’s barely been five minutes since he arrived home.

Bleakly, unbelievingly, he goes inside. In the lounge he finds his desk, the drawers prised open. A hammer and chisel lie on the carpet, surrounded by a scatter of veneer and wood chips. On top of the desk is the sheaf of letters he has been hiding….

Demand for Payment….

…. Final Notice….

…. Court Order….

Five minutes later, David comes in. “Dad? Are you alright?”

Stephen follows him in. “We’ll manage, Dad. We’ll sort something out. And when we’ve done that, we’ll get Mom to come back. You’ll see.”

But neither of them likes seeing the tears on their father’s cheeks.

*****

Charlotte

glass of wine. I don’t generally drink during the day, but

are you alright?” It is my Master, watching me

a bit nervous I suppose, wondering what Beth is going

pour another glass. “You shouldn’t be nervous. Whatever Beth

still won’t talk

“Then there will be another way of finding your mother.” His skin is cool on mine. He casts a sharp look down to where he touches me, then

Testing me…?

You shouldn’t be,” he says. “But I do understand how much this means to you.” He takes one of the glasses, presses it into my hand. “Drink some of your wine.” He

in my hand, magnifying the movement,

from me, putting it down along with his own, then his hands on my shoulders, he draws

the wine, his mouth captures mine. The kiss is

warm as he nibbles and mouths the soft

my spine, up and into my hair. “Bend forward,” he murmurs. His voice is slow and chocolaty and the lightest pressure between my shoulders pushes me forward and down. A tingle shivers down

close by my cheek. “Ankles wide,” he whispers. “Grip

tight and I'm growing warm and liquid as I ease my feet apart. But his shoe nudges at my ankles, opening me

of my head slips along my spine then down over the curve of my hip and further. Fingers trace my outline

inner thighs, stroking down to my

whispers my Master, his voice all honey and curling smoke. I'm quivering, longing for the fingers to rise further, but they don't, simply

Master, the man who can bring me to my knees

“Please.” My voice trembles.

“Please, what? This?”

rises to trace my panty line, the nail digging in, so slightly, to the skin

but not from nervousness any

My clit throbs. I want

“Please….”

good time. Remember

There's a brief tug, a pinpoint of pain that dances to my core; a thumb and forefinger tugging at a

“Master….”

for me now.” His voice is so soft. The finger withdraws and a

Stay there….

my panties, tugging them down.

the other. Something rustles, then there is the rasp of a zipper. And finally, pressing at my entrance, my Master’s

over me again, his face again close to

gentle.

mine. I scent his musk,

slips out, stretches in, slips out, stretches

me, I tighten around him, then relax to let him enter again. He shudders and

so. One hand slides along my arm, fingers curling around mine where I grip the counter. The other slips down between my thighs to finger

spearing into me, raising a gasp with every stroke. Clever fingers, busy fingers, work my clit, sending pleasure

jump as his hips piston against mine, but I can’t. Instead, my gasps turn to moans, then to wails. And as he plunges into me harder each time, ramming home,

me,” he

heat inside me blooms and grows, releasing a hot gush

“Come for me.”

grows, spiralling tight,

me.” His voice is fierce as he slams me inside. And with a final thrust, the

flesh. He drops down over me, his fingers vising around mine as he

his, his body covering me as we lie together. We descend from the skies, my breathing and his slowing

more resting against mine,