Another old story - from the days when videos still existed. I 'borrowed' the title from a Jack Vettriano painting. The painting inspired this story so it seemed only fair to use the same title.
The video ended and the screen went blank as the recording came to an end. Edward stirred, slowly refocusing on his surroundings, the drawn blinds, a cigarette smouldering, long forgotten in the ashtray beside him, a large glass of brandy barely touched, his shirt open, tie pulled to one side, trousers unzipped, his chest splattered with his own semen, his now flaccid cock lay in his hand.
He was breathing slowly, in control, not like before when first anger, then shock and lust had filled his head and body. The smell of his leather armchair mingled with that of his cum, he liked it. Licking his lips, he closed his eyes and a smile flitted across his face.
The sound of the front door slamming closed downstairs startled him slightly, Susannah was back. A good 10 minutes before she looked for any sign of him though. Edward pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his chest. He did it slowly, lust and anger confusing him again. He downed the brandy in one gulp, wincing as it burned a path to his stomach - cheap shit! Why couldn't she even get the good stuff? Christ knows they could afford it. Gripping the arms of the chair, he pulled himself up and tucked his shirt in, tried to straighten his tie and decided he needed another cigarette before facing her. Disgust slowly seeped into his consciousness, disgust for himself. He took a deep drag on the cigarette he'd just lit. How could he be so aroused by the film? Then felt his cock twitching as he thought about it again.
Susannah slammed the door behind her. Another day over! Why was it such hard work dealing with the staff? And Edward never lifted a finger to help. It was his bloody business as well and yet he hardly ever visited the place... Fortunately there were plenty of mugs out there, willing to spend a fortune on the latest new age treatments so business was going well.
Staff and Edward, no Edward and staff, definitely in that order. She would have to put her foot down with him. What kind of man was he anyway? She stalked into the opulent kitchen. Thank God Mrs Jones had been in today, at least the place looked respectable. The Proctors were coming for drinks at 8. Throwing her Gucci bag onto the oak table, she opened the refrigerator and peered in, she needed a drink before 8 and the half finished bottle of Chablis would do for starters.
"Ha!" she exclaimed to herself as she mulled over her thoughts.
"Edward, a man? That was a joke! Where the Hell was he anyway? No doubt got his head stuck in a book in his study."
The chilled Chablis did nothing to soothe her frayed nerves as it slid into her empty stomach.
"Hmmm, food would be good, a small snack before the guests arrive."
In the refrigerator, there were some canapés and other essentials delivered by the catering service this afternoon. They wouldn't miss a couple.
Susannah slumped into a sturdy chair by the table, munching away at some king prawns and planning what she would wear that evening.
Edward watched her quietly from the hall, smiling again. He would enjoy this retribution. How many times had she belittled him, in private and in public? She'd never do it again.
"Darling, you're home at last," he called pleasantly as he entered the kitchen.
His voice made her jump, the crystal goblet holding her Chablis fell and the wine spilled over the table.
"For Christ's sake Edward," she barked at him, standing swiftly to get a cloth.
"It's only wine Susannah. There's plenty more where that came from," he soothed, taking her hand as she pushed past him.
Trying to pull away, her eyes hardened.
"Edward," she warned.
"Come on darling, I want to show you something."
"What on earth are you playing at? The Proctors will be here in a few hours or have you forgotten, as usual? I need to shower and change. Working full time can be exhausting you know. Or perhaps you wouldn't," she sneered.
"Actually, I have been working. Remember you asked me to review security? Well, I've found something you should see," his voice became colder and the grip on her wrist tightened.
"I asked you to do that fucking months ago Edward. I assumed it was finished."
"No more talking just now. Come on," he pulled at her and she resisted.
"Just tell me what it is for God's sake."
"No, I think you need to see it. My study, now."
Susannah looked closely at him, noting how his pupils were dilated, how his mouth was set into a thin determined line. She'd not seen him so agitated in years. Relenting, she let him guide her upstairs and into his study. The room smelled a little fusty; there was something in the air mixing with the cigarette smoke and leather.
"Don't you ever open the window in here Edward?"
"Sit down," he ordered, pointing to his chair and ignoring the question.
Her patience wore thin again.
"Edward, I simply do not have time for these games," she snapped.
He grasped her shoulders and put his face close to hers. He'd been drinking brandy; she could smell it on his breath. Pushing her towards the chair with a strength neither of them had experienced before, he growled the order at her again and forced her into the chair, holding her down, one hand on her shoulder.
"Edward, I -"
"Shut up! Watch," he interrupted harshly, pushing play on the remote control.
