Here's a bit of an experimental "challenge" piece, prompted by a fellow author. It needs a little cleanup, for sure, but I'm actually very pleased with the results.
“Oh, honestly, Harold?”
Francesca Delaney threw down the handful of business mail she’d just
retrieved outside. Crossing her arms over her chest she glowered. Not even
twenty-four hours back from his latest jet-setting jaunt –this time to Greece –
and here sat her soon-to-be-ex husband, in her
home office, being straddled by some new twenty-something. The little
cunt’s simpering giggles carried well out into the hall and any of Francesca’s
staff might hear it, just as they would surely witness the blatant sex-play
with their own eyes simply walking past the wide-open double-doors. Harold
wouldn’t mind any of it, of course. Humiliating Cesca just made him more
pleased with himself.
As Francesca walked in on them, Harry’s red-headed bit of candy was
holding both ends of his loosened tie in one fist. The bright, shimmering gold
tips of her nails bit into his almost-naked chest a little above his heart.
Francesca wondered if the cunt undid the buttons of his tailored dress shirt
with her teeth. He’d always liked it when Cesca herself nipped them off. Back
when he and Cesca still fucked. Now the two interlopers glanced up, feigning
surprise. It must be feigned of
course. They hadn’t ended up in her office by accident, after all.
