Note to readers: I have written erotic stories for my own edification over the years, but this is my first time posting one. Hopefully you enjoy it! All feedback is welcome. Please take the time to post a rating as this gives me an indication of whether I've hit the mark. All characters portrayed in this story are over the age of 18.
Chapter 1 - Conflicted
As I lay there staring down at her sleeping serenely by my side, I realised that after 13 years together I no longer knew who she was. She still held the beauty of the girl who had captivated me so completely. Her long blond hair lay tousled around her recumbent form. Her full lips were pursed in that way that I had found so endearing as she slept. Her heavy eyelids, which twitched as she dreamed, concealed her deep brown eyes. Her loose polyester pyjamas fought in vain to conceal the full breasts and rounded hips that lay beneath.
But I knew that when those eyes eventually opened they would not look on me with the tenderness that I had once known. As recognition dawned, the distance between us would return. The origins of her change in feelings towards me were unclear. Certainly, after the birth of our daughter eight years earlier we had both been caught up in a new routine with more responsibility and less sleep. However, for a time things had seemed fine. The changes had been imperceptible. But Jessica's interest in me had gradually declined.
She had never been a demonstrably sexual being, but I knew that she had once desired me and sought my touch. When our physical intimacy began to wane I put it down to the stress of balancing work and raising our child. However, with time she touched me less and the fleeting kiss that I would receive all too rarely was more habitual and for appearance sake.
I lost count of the times that I had tried to discuss our situation with her. She would become angry and defensive when the subject was broached and walk out on the conversation. Without a way to address what was happening I nursed the pain, confusion and deep sense of loss. I tortured myself trying to work out what I had done, replaying disagreements that we had over and over.
I had always shared the domestic duties and played an active role in my daughter's upbringing. While my professional life had led to a fair share of late nights, I had tried to be attentive to Jess and her needs. I tended to spoil her and she never had reason to doubt my love and affection.
As time marched on I became bitter and frustrated at her rejection of me. The hurt left me feeling hollow and all aspects of my life suffered. I contemplated leaving her but the memory of what we had once shared and the vain hope that we could return to those days kept me from that course of action. Also, I didn't want to be forced into a shared parental arrangement and miss out on having time with my daughter, Christine. This left me trapped without any obvious recourse.
Now as I looked at her all these years on, I realised that I no longer saw her the same way and that the damage to our relationship was irreparable. A hint of resentment persisted, but time had worn the sharp edges of the pain and sadly I recognised that when I looked at her now it was with mild disinterest, as if at a stranger.
While my situation sometimes felt emasculating, this feeling was at odds with my character and temperament. In all other aspects of my life I exuded a quiet confidence. At six foot, two inches tall, with strong, broad shoulders and a muscular, athletic physique I cut an imposing figure.
At university I had attracted my fair share of interest from the opposite sex and I had been told on several occasions that my slightly unkempt dark brown hair, stubbled angular jaw and hazel eyes gave me a ruggedly handsome appearance. While at 42, there was a light dusting of greys interspersed with the chocolate brown just above my ears, and my hair was now cut slightly shorter, I had not succumbed to the 'lateral' growth that so many of my friends had in their 30s.
I was also a successful architect who catered to a wealthy clientele seeking bespoke home designs. I had carved out my niche as much through my approach to the business as through my creative concepts. When I was new in the industry I had learned the perils of poor relationships between architects and builders and when I went into business for myself, I allied with a small construction team who I trusted to deliver a high-quality product.
What evolved over the next 12 years was a firm that could deliver a complete package more quickly and economically than most of our competitors. As an employer of 24 staff and the frontman for the operation, I had become comfortable managing others.
As the business grew, I hired a project manager to liaise between my design team and the building team to ensure projects were delivered to specification and budget. They would also support various aspects of logistics, including negotiating supply contracts and coordinating site reports and inspections.
Stephen Conroy had been recommended to me by a colleague and had proven indispensable. He was an older, down to earth man who was equally at ease talking with apprentice brickies as the well-to-do clients who would frequently demand last minute changes to design. I suspect that a good part of my business' success over the years could be attributed to his easy style and competence. Stephen had become a friend and mentor to me over the years. His extensive experience was invaluable and more than once he had steered me away from poor decisions in his usual, affable manner.
This bond was what made his sudden passing so difficult to deal with. Stephen had been on an orbital trainer at the gym when he suffered a massive heart attack. I was deeply impacted by his loss. In many ways it had been like losing my father all over again. As I struggled to come to terms with the loss of my friend, I was forced to replace him for the wellbeing of the business. This realisation was tinged with bitterness as I knew that I wouldn't find anyone who could manage their affairs as well as Stephen had.
I used a recruitment firm to find a suitable candidate and the generous salary had certainly attracted no shortage of applicants. However, none of them had the mix of personality and experience that I was looking for. The weeks that the position sat vacant soon turned into months and things began to slip on a few jobs. I reached out to a couple of trusted colleagues in the sector for advice. Ironically, these were the same people that had pointed me in the direction of Stephen years before.
My enquiries netted me only one name. Chloe was very young to be considered for such a position, but she had worked with a much larger firm as a project manager. She came to me with huge wraps and when I met with her she certainly understood the role I needed filled and talked the talk. More than that, she had a relaxed nature and mature sophistication that belied her years and I felt would work well with my affluent clients. I decided to take a chance and hired her.
Chloe quickly learned the way that my business operated and I came to trust her judgment with my clients. She didn't advise me in the way that Stephen had, but I found that I was able to bounce logistical matters off her. While our relationship was different to the one I had with Stephen she quickly became my trusted lieutenant.
Chloe was always immaculately dressed and she seemed to expertly straddle the divide between professionalism and feminine sensuality. Her clothes were tailored and hugged her lithe, hourglass figure. The business skirts and dresses that were her preferred work attire, ended above the knee, drawing the eye to the smooth, tan skin of her toned legs. Her feathered, pixie haircut was stylish and the honey blond bangs seemed perfectly matched to her slate blue eyes.
