Chasmish Showing

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“You’re wanking to the thought of her?”“No, I wasn’t –“ I started to say but was cut off by her insistence.“Yes, you fucking well were.”I shook my head, rolled my eyes and looked at her. Words failed to arrive on the edge of my lips.“We’re going home. Now!”She stood up and pulled me with her. I managed to grab my book and bag that was hanging off the end of the chair and I pointed back to what was left of my drink on the table.“My drink-”“You won’t need a drink where you’re going,” she told me.She stormed out of the pub, pulling me with her. As we passed the group of girls, Alison turned to me.“Want to say goodbye to anyone in particular?”I shook my head and headed for the door ahead of her in case she made a scene.We left the pub and I was marched down the high street and towards home. I got pushed through the front door and marched upstairs.You should have seen the grin on my face. Seriously, it was a picture. ~oOo~My body had been on edge for far too long and my orgasm ripped. I had just about stopped bleeding when I heard some noise outside my cell. So I started singing a song I heard on Public Television's Classic Concert Series. Its called 'Have You Been to Jail for Justice?' by Peter, Paul and Mary.Shortly after I started, one of the interrogators came in and punched me in the mouth.Was my singing that bad?"Get up traitor."I looked up defiantly. "Excuse me???" I shook my head no to reinforce my point. "I beg your pardon??? You could not have just said what I think you said."Two others came in. They picked me up and slammed me against the wall.I started bleeding again."You heard me." the interrogator snapped. "There is no excuse for you, and you'll be begging for a lot more than our pardon by the time we're through with you." Sure, and buffaloes write poetry." Tell me the master command code." I thought you scared Ashley into giving it to you." We thought we did too. Turns out she tricked us." Or she didn't know it." I replied, far too smugly for the.
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I think everybody realised that we’d behaved very childishly that evening, but that’s how things go sometimes when you drink too much. Things returned to normal for a while. I’d started dating again, not that my job made it easy to build or hold down a regular relationship. I started having a few one-night-stands whilst I was on the road. But to be honest, whilst being fun on the evening in question, they weren’t really my cup of tea. I first got a clue that serious changes were about to happen about a year or so after the war in the hotel. My company had three main competitors. There was the one Della worked for, then there was a little firm called Morechants from down the West Country somewhere. They weren’t really in competition with anyone, as their products were of extremely high quality and very expensive. They had an established customer base, who were apparently happy to pay a premium price for their products. Not our target base at all. And then there was Permons from up.

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