Banging for Roof

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Wendy scowled at the screen of her smartphone, the inane smiley-face emoticons fuelling her anger. Her blood boiled. She knew it was a mistake to rely on such a tenuous relationship, but her husband had insisted. The latter part of that thought sent her eyes rolling. Before she could refocus her irritation on him, however, the panic began to set in. She could feel the thump of her heart as her mouth ran dry. Her mind raced and her eyes welled. She didn’t know what she was going to do. Leaning forward out of the plush armchair, Wendy reached for the glass of gin and tonic she had been nursing for the last hour and a half. What ice she hadn’t already sucked into her mouth to stall the retreating tide had long since melted. She was down to her last inch. The remaining fourteen dollars she had in her purse wasn’t enough for another. Very carefully, she took the smallest sip: just enough to moisten her tongue and the roof of her mouth. One possibility stood out in her mind above all others. It was so well practiced from her youth, it was almost a muscle memory. Paratrooping. In the gap year Wendy had taken to travel the world between high school and university, she had only paid for accommodation about a third of the time. Throughout Western Europe she hadn’t once seen the inside of a youth hostel. Her cheeks warmed at the memory, the corners of her mouth pulling back in a knowing smirk. ‘What had Emily called it?’ she thought to herself, her brows furrowed in recollection of her English travel companion. ‘That’s right, “banging for roof”.’ Her lips split into a broad grin. “Oh, I can’t,” Wendy whispered, shaking the smile from her face. She hadn’t cheated on her husband since they had been together. ‘Well, since we’d been married,’ she reminded herself with another impish grin. Her hen’s night had left her being spit-roasted between a pair of Viagra-fuelled strippers well into the small hours. And there was her best friend’s bachelorette party a few years later. Wendy fought the blush staining her cheeks by rationalising that it was just a blowjob. Two blowjobs, in fact. ‘What is it with me and strippers?’ She took another drink. ‘Well, what Andrew doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.’ Catching herself halfway through the gulp, she tipped the glass forward to save the last splash of her gin and tonic. Licking her lips as she put her drink back down, she pressed two fingers to her mouth. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to do it. Her heart pounded in her chest as she scanned the velveteen lounge for suitable lodgings. Dismissing the clutches of hipsters in their twenties littering the dimly-lit nooks, her eyes fell on a table of thirty-something businessmen her own age across the roomy cocktail bar. There were other possibilities, and there would be more as the after-work crowd grew, but the well-groomed suits appealed most for now. Satisfied with her choice, Wendy took off her jacket and laid it over her carry-on. She subtly undid a button on her white blouse, revealing a seductive dip of cleavage. Then, making a show of the tight bun at the back of her head being uncomfortable, she tousled her dark brown hair free and smoothed it down over her shoulders. Her look complete, she sat back into the armchair and crossed her legs, making sure the hem of her grey pencil skirt rose high above her knee. As she surveyed the decadent basement bar in hopes of attracting the eye of one of the businessmen, Wendy noticed that her wedding and engagement rings shone conspicuously on her left hand. Straightening almost with a start, she wriggled them across to bahis siteleri her right ring finger. She tried to massage out the groove they left in her flesh, but it was no use, to say nothing of the tan line. “Hello,” a man’s voice smiled above her, catching her off-guard. She was immediately struck with the kindness of his piercing blue eyes, the corners warmly wrinkled. “I wonder if I might join you?” Wendy guessed him to be a good twenty years her senior. Most of his age was in his hair, with the battle between salt and pepper long since lost by the latter. He was attractive, she thought, and his loosened button and tie gave him a roguish quality she quite liked. “Please,” she smiled, gesturing to an empty armchair next to her. “I’m Michael,” he announced, taking her hand and her name. Sitting down, he claimed the other vacant seat from any potential rivals with his suit coat. “Can I buy you another drink, Wendy?” He summoned a uniformed waitress with a raised finger before she could answer. ‘Confident old bugger,’ Wendy thought, unable to keep herself from smiling. She ordered another gin and tonic, and Michael held up two fingers to the waitress standing over him to order the same. Leaning forward, he laid the cocktail menu on the table in the centre of their luxurious setting. “I’m a Bacardi man myself,” he explained once the waitress was out of earshot. “But I can hardly come to the Gin Palace and order rum, now can I?” Wendy smiled politely at his joke. “You don’t come here often?” “Of all the gin joints in all the world?” he teased, his eyebrow arched. “No. I’m from Canberra; I’m just passing through. I’m doing a lap of the country, briefing tenderers on a competitive grants round we’re running.” ‘So he’ll have a hotel then,’ she guessed. ‘And judging by the look of him, it’ll be a nice one.’ But what she wasn’t quite sure of, was whether the gold band on his left hand was going to waste her time or not. Despite her agenda, Wendy was genuinely interested in his work. There were plenty of smiles and nods as they spoke. She leaned in, resting her chin on her thumb and forefinger. Subconsciously, she crossed her legs towards him. “What about you? What brings you to Melbourne?” Michael enquired, his eyes discreetly brushing over Wendy’s tanned legs before falling on her small suitcase. “Agriculture conference,” she replied, her eyebrows lifting as she did. “I’m with the Queensland Department of Primary Industries.” “Ah, a fellow bureaucrat,” Michael beamed. He reciprocated her interest in his job, probing for details on how the Queensland public service was faring after the recent change of government. “Yeah, actually,” she sang, nodding a silent thank you to the waitress delivering their drinks. “The travel allowance is really good now.” Wendy leaned in even closer, conspiratorially whispering above the smooth and lively background music, “So good in fact, I actually cashed it out to help pay for our renovations.” Michael threw his head back and barked a boisterous laugh. “Oh, yes. I’ve been there.” Holding his glass up, he chuckled knowingly, “To travel allowance.” Wendy clinked his glass with hers as she repeated the toast. She took a sip, smiling like the cat that swallowed the canary. They chatted about her renovations as the bar slowly filled. The enthusiasm for the beauty of Queenslander architecture soon waned as Wendy explained the trials and tribulations of restoring a nineteenth-century weatherboard house. She remained light, but the frustration behind her sarcastic quips was evident. They had blown the budget and maxed out canlı bahis siteleri their credit cards, stalling the project until brief opportunities, such as her business trip, could nudge them a little further along. “So this trip finishes off the bathroom with a claw-foot bath.” She waved her glass in bitter triumph, the clear liquid inside swirling smoothly around the middle of the tumbler. “All for the discomfort of a night on some distant relative’s couch,” Michael observed dryly. “An old friend from uni, actually.” Wendy lifted her gin and tonic to her lips, carefully choosing her next words. She sighed, “But unfortunately something’s come up, as usual. She just text me to say she can’t put me up tonight.” Michael smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and winced in sympathetic disappointment. “Best laid plans, huh?” He was giving nothing away. “Hmmm,” Wendy agreed sorely. She pressed herself back into her opulent armchair and tilted her head slightly as she fixed her gaze on his. Michael seemed to delight in the silence that followed. Eventually he went on, “We used to be the same: the nice house; the fancy cars; generally trying to keep up with the sharp-elbows crowd. You know, taking advantage, exploiting every opportunity?” Not expecting an answer, he drained the last of his drink. “It all became too much in the end, chasing one shiny thing after another. At the end of the day, it’s just stuff.” She was drawn in, his words striking a chord with her. It was a realisation she had been coming to for some time now, much faster than her husband, with no small amount of frustration on her part. “So I took a job a couple of levels down, we bought a smaller house, and we pulled the girls out of private school,” he continued, describing his family’s new anti-materialistic philosophy. “We spend more time together now – quality time. It’s all about experiences for us these days.” “Experience?” Wendy was intrigued. Leaning forward, she placed her empty glass on the table. “Yeah,” Michael smiled, mirroring Wendy’s lean. “Stuff: you get used to. Experience: enriches your life.” He flashed Wendy a smouldering look, his bright blue eyes twinkling mischievously in the dimly lit bar. “I could save money and be on the train to Frankston right now, hoping I don’t get murdered, and dreading a miserable night on my sister’s couch, smothered in cats.” He laughed along with Wendy, before smoothing his tone. “Or I could top up my travel allowance for a fancy hotel I couldn’t otherwise afford, and be here, in a cocktail lounge far too cool for me, talking to a beautiful woman far too young for me.” Wendy blushed at the compliment, the grin involuntarily spreading across her face. While she had set out upon this errand as the hunter, his self-deprecating charm had her feeling very much like the prey. “Can I get you another drink, Wendy?” he breathed. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” Wendy flirted, unable to keep the giggle from her voice. “I assure you,” Michael smiled warmly. “It’s merely my conscience I’m trying to take advantage of.” Wendy laughed, her brown eyes ablaze with excitement. His intentions finally clear, her entire body flushed with an intense heat. Her nose and lips surprisingly bore the brunt, along with her nipples and a very pleasant ache between her legs. Certain no morsel of her exposed skin was not glowing red, Wendy swallowed the lump in her throat. “Well, mine could definitely do with another kick while she’s down.” Michael revelled in her admission for a second before turning his attention towards one of the busy waitresses. canlı bahis A flurry of hand signals and dancing fingers soon produced two fresh gin and tonics to their table. “To experience,” he toasted smugly. “To experience indeed,” she conceded with a broad smile, touching is proffered glass with the rim of her own. *** Bleary-eyed, Wendy hobbles through the darkness towards the bathroom. Her senses are slow in returning to her drowsy consciousness. The expensive carpet feels soft underfoot, and she can’t help but curl her toes into the luxurious pile as she walks. Her thighs ache like they haven’t in years, the insides ludely glazed with her infidelity. Carefully closing the door behind her, she leans against it a moment before turning on the lights. The spacious bathroom gently comes to life in tasteful earthy tones under the soft lighting. Wendy spies her naked reflection in the mirror over the twin basins and winks at the smeared mess smirking back at her. “You slut!” she giggles under her breath. Not waiting for the retort, she pads over to the enormous shower and lays a fluffy white bathmat on the floor in front of its clear glass door. It takes her a minute to figure out The Westin’s taps. Three chrome knobs in a vertical line stare back at her: one controlling the temperature; another the pressure; and the small one in the middle adjusting the flow between the hand-held rose mounted on the wall and the rain shower in the ceiling. Plunging herself under the torrential downpour, Wendy luxuriates in the warmth that soothes her aching muscles. The water envelops her in a cocoon of white noise, and she huffs another laugh to herself in its solitude. ‘The whole point of this was to find a place to stay and get a good night’s sleep.’ But that scoundrel had kept her up all night. She fights the giggle, but she is powerless to keep it from escaping in delighted little bursts as she ponders the events of the previous night. Leaving the bar, Michael had carried her suitcase up the stairs onto Russell Place. His chivalry continued to impress her as he helped her into her coat and fastened the buttons in the chill of the laneway. He brushed a few wayward strands from her gin-warmed cheeks, returning her smile in the muted glow from the street lights, the tingle of his fingertips behind her ear travelling straight to her nipples. She loved the way he stared into her eyes the entire time. She loved the way he looked after her. It had been far too long since she had been cared for like that. ‘He was so suave,’ she recalls with a hum. As they turned onto Collins Street he had taken her hand in his. It felt so completely natural. Even the way he fucked her with his eyes as they strolled down The Westin’s long drive had been charming. His smouldering gaze had only intensified in the lift on the way up to his room. Wendy had bitten her bottom lip to try and contain her smile as she looked up at him. The faintest growl caught in his throat. Her chest heaved in response, her cleavage stealing his attention from her blazing brown eyes. Wendy plucks the tiny tube of shampoo from the shelf and tilts her head with another broad grin. Squeezing a large dollop into her palm, she massages it into her scalp, piling up her hair as she goes. Foamy trickles of bubbles snake their way down her neck and between her breasts as she rinses it from her mane. She repeats the process, then again with the conditioner. Smirking with amusement, she relishes the memory of Michael’s sudden change in demeanour as they entered his room. His confidence had evaporated in an instant, reducing him to a stammering mess. A sheen of sweat had polished his forehead, seemingly draining all the moisture from his mouth. He had repeatedly licked his teeth and tried to swallow down his nervousness. She found it adorable.

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