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Twisted Fate: A tale of Passion, Lies, and Deception

Updated: May 16

Chapter 1: Last Call for Deception

If someone had told me I’d meet my go-to drink-slinging savior in a downtown bar, my skeptical side would've blown it off in a hot minute. But that's exactly where I found myself: seated at the rustic wooden bar downtown, an oasis of modern sophistication hidden in a concrete jungle.

Behind the bar, an impressive array of top-shelf liquors beckoned, looking oh-so-forgiving, their amber liquid levels shimmering under the strategically placed pendant lamps.

Upon settling into my seat, the handsome, friendly bartender caught my eye over the polished wooden countertop before me. "What can I get you tonight?" he inquired with a genuine smile.

Taking this opportunity to unload my troubles, I hesitated just a moment before answering, "Give me your strongest, yet smoothest whiskey—something that'll help drown my worries. And maybe, hopefully, give me the courage to face them."

Understanding flickered in the bartender's eyes as he effortlessly selected a perfectly aged whiskey, pouring it into an elegant crystal tumbler.

"Sometimes, just talking about things helps. So, what's your name? I'm Hersey Parker, but everyone calls me Hearse," he said as he slid the drink across the bar to me.

I sighed, taking a large swallow of my whiskey, feeling the mercilessly hot liquid sear my throat as I carried on. "Allow me to preface this by saying that I'm not usually one to spill my guts to a random bartender, but something tells me you're trustworthy. My name is Sophia Garza-Javernick, but everyone calls me Sophie. And tonight, I'm in here because I suspect my husband, Troy, of having an affair with his assistant. It feels like acid in my mouth as I admit it aloud for the very first time."

"Damn," Hearse murmured, his eyes full of concern. "That's a heavy burden to carry. What gives you the impression that your husband is having an affair?"

I eyed him carefully, contemplating the concept of confidentiality in this dimly lit, contemporary bar.

"The marriage I once believed to be rock-solid, but lately I feel he's always distracted with the company we built together, and it feels like I'm losing him to his assistant," I finally managed to say.

Hearse's expression remained calm and empathetic as he took in my confession, listening intently.

He placed both his hands on the sleek, varnished bar, creating an unspoken bubble of quiet around us, amplifying the seriousness of the conversation.

"To be clear," Hearse said softly, "I'm not here to judge or pry. I genuinely want to help. Maybe by getting everything off your chest, you can begin the process of sorting through the puzzle of your relationship. It could help you find a way to restore what you have or guide you to a new path towards happiness."

His words were a balm to the raging torrent of what-ifs and doubts storming my thoughts.

As I spoke of my uneasy intuition, Hearse provided sage advice, guiding me gently through the rocky terrain of my crumbling marriage.

"Is it possible," he ventured cautiously, "that Troy is spending less quality time with you as a result of investing more necessary time in the business?"

"That could be it," I humored him, willing to consider an alternative explanation for my husband's erratic demeanor. "I suppose between us, we haven't been making time for one another lately."

Hearse nodded, looking thoughtful. "Relationships often falter not because of a single act of betrayal, but because of neglect and miscommunication.

Ever since my girlfriend quit her job at the salon and started a new office job, she has been acting distant. Feeling left out, I decided to find a way to reignite the spark in our relationship through romantic gestures. I surprised her with flowers and prepared her favorite meal, believing that these small acts of love would accumulate over time."

I smiled, unable to contain the mix of emotions swirling within.

I found myself inspired by Hearse and his anecdotes; his openness allowed me to reflect on my own experiences, empowering me to consider the possibility of salvaging the estranged bond with Troy.

Perhaps if I could change my approach, things would improve.

I left the bar and decided to take Hearse’s advice, devising an elaborate plan to surprise Troy upon his arrival home from work. I knew that I had a couple of hours to prepare, as Troy will be home late again tonight.

Rushing to the grocery store, I purchased ingredients to cook his favorite Italian meal accompanied by his favorite red wine.

Once home, I flicked on some soft music, allowing it to filter through the air, setting the mood.

I spared no detail, ensuring the house was spotless and that the lit candles surrounding the dining table created an intimate ambiance.

Finally, I adorned myself in sexy black lingerie, the top showing off my bountiful cleavage, while the barely-there black panties and stiletto heels showcased my shapely legs and curvaceous body. I felt more beautiful that night than ever before.

Just as I finished the preparations, Troy walks through the door, seemingly exhausted and troubled. Perhaps the burden of his assumed secret weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Despite Troy's unpleasant demeanor, I greet him with a hug, saying, "Hey babe, I made your favorite meal for dinner tonight. I wanted to surprise you because you've been working so much lately." Troy, now visibly distracted by his phone, looks at me and just before leaving the room replies, "Thanks Sophie, but I already had dinner. My day was long, I'm going to shower and relax."

I stand there, staring at his retreating figure, fighting the tide of despair creeping in, as I began to feel a sense of extreme devastation at Troy's reaction. But, despite this minor setback, I didn't throw in the towel just yet, instead summoning a renewed resolve by recalling Hearse's encouraging words.

As Troy showers, I decided to busy myself with pouring wine into our best glasses, lighting a couple of dimly lit candles, and waiting for Troy in bed. This time, I slip out of my bra and panties, now only wearing my heels and the glass of wine I carried.

Minutes pass before I hear the bathroom door creak open, and Troy's weary figure steps into the dimly lit bedroom, with a bath towel around his waist.

"I have a surprise for you, Troy," I gently announced, attempting to draw Troy's attention towards my seductive appearance.

Before Troy could respond, I take the opportunity to move closer, slipping my hands up his arms and drawing him into a soft, yearning kiss, which Troy reluctantly returns.

After a moment, I gently usher Troy towards the bed, hoping to erase the invisible barriers that have emerged between us.

I slowly undress him, our movements conjuring memories of passion, pleasure, and the prominent role intimacy once played between us.

Once Troy's towel lies strewn about the room, I pressed my body against his. My nipples grew erect as I glide my way down Troy's body, finally reaching my knees. Still there on my knees, I stare Troy in the eyes as I slid his dick in my mouth.

His breath hitches as he grows harder while I run my soft lips, tongue, and suction up and down, using my hands, controlling my full speed and intensity.

Troy moans, eyes fluttering shut as he surrenders to the intoxicating sensations coursing through his body. He fists his hands at his sides, desperate to maintain control as I take him to the brink of ecstasy.

When he can't hold back any longer, Troy grabs my shoulders, pulling me up gently. He cradles my face, kissing me deeply, tasting himself on my lips, and whispers, "I want you. Now."

An electric shiver dances down my spine as he lays me on the bed, the anticipation building.

He pulls the blankets aside, guiding me to lie down, and parts my legs wide open, exposing my glistening wetness.

Without any hesitation, he lowers his head between my thighs. I lock my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. My senses are immediately engulfed by the warm, wet sensation of his tongue exploring my folds, teasing my clit in delicate circles. His filthy mouth pleasures me into a writhing, breathless mess. My inner thighs tremble while Troy feasts on my drenched pussy, skillfully plying his tongue, alternating between gentle flicks and long, deep strokes that trigger ripples of pleasure to surge through my body.

My soft moans grow more pronounced as I call out his name, weaving an intricate melody comprised of desperation, aching want, and tender sentiment.

As he plunges his fingers into my dripping cave while sealing his mouth on my clit, sucking it fervently, my back arches, my spine bowing off the bed. I craved more of this primal connection.

He crooks his fingers, discovering that perfect spot inside of me. My breathing quickens as Troy expertly massages my G-spot, pushing me closer to my peak. It was only moments before I erupted into a high-voltage orgasm. "Don't stop, Troy!" I screamed, my head thrown back, hips bucking uncontrollably. Troy continues to lap and probe, drawing out my release, electrifying my core with wave after wave. Aftershocks still run wild through my body as I shakily beg for Troy to enter me.

Just then, Troy’s cell phone rings. It’s his assistant, Tess. He looks at his phone as it keeps ringing. Troy pauses, wavering, examining the device as it demands his attention. He weighs the decision to answer against staying present in this moment.

With a sigh of regret, Troy glances up at me, and giving in to the pressure, he reluctantly accepts the call, mouthing an apology.

I immediately felt a surge of frustration as I have now experienced Troy's rejection for the second time tonight. "Seriously, Troy? Are you fucking her?" I demanded, building up the courage to confront Troy.

Troy's face contorts with annoyance as he proclaims, "Sophie, why do we have to go through this every time? I've already explained that things between me and Tess are strictly work, that's all."

Tension filled the room as Troy's words pierced through my heart like a knife. I knew he was lying, but I was frustrated, exhausted, and not willing to engage in another argument.

"Forget it. It's clear that you have more important matters to attend to right now, so I'll allow you to focus on them. I'll sleep in the guest room tonight," I said to Troy, turning off the light before I exit the room.

Troy is left standing there alone in the darkness, with only the flickering bedside candles casting uncertain shadows.

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Grippling, sexy and oozing with the author's unique compelling sensibility

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I will read with interest Ms Jacobs. I'm fascinated by the terrain you explore, and your enthusiasm for living life to the fullest. I'm writing my own collection of short stories at present, so I also feel solidarity with your pursuits. warm regards, G (

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