Taboo

Keywords: Day, Renewal, (Non-), Valentine's,

"***AUTHORS NOTE: This Story is a 'sequel 'to "Last Christmas". For better understanding, it would be best to read that one first."

"I would again that ABSTRUSE for her assistance in the editing of this story. Her help, as always, was invaluable. Many thanks go as well to rozezwild for her editing, review, and assistance in the polishing the story. Their help made the presentation of this story possible. All the good stuff is because of them. The bad stuff is mine alone. **"

*

Laura plopped down in the high-backed chair in her high fashion condominium. She was tired to the point of exhaustion. It had been a busy eight...no, twelve weeks. It was all worth it though. The new contract presentation had worked and they had landed the multi-million dollar contract with the new clients without the slightest hitch. She would be getting the new partnership now, just as her boss had promised.

She would be going from Junior Account Specialist to Partner in one of the most successful advertising companies in the City. The time and work it took was well worth it if she could make a leap up the corporate ladder. She had put in more hours and worked harder than any of the actual Partners in the firm.

Having spent more time at work than even her boss had, plus her time warming his bed, she had not even been back to the condominium, except to change quickly and grab some clothes, during the entire time. She looked at the stack of mail laid on the table where she had just gathered and dropped it when she had dashed through. It was quite a large stack.

Luckily, her accountant paid her bills, so she knew everything was current. It was probably just personal notes of congratulations and junk mail. It would wait until she had a nice, slow relaxing bath. As busy as she had been, she owed herself to relax and take her promised week off.

Just as she was finishing getting undressed, her phone buzzed signaling a call from the front desk of her condo. Picking up the phone she answered, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

"Yes, what is it?" She inquired with clear impatience. "OK, why didn't you just bring it up? I am too tired to come down to get it. I don't care, just sign for it and give them a tip and I'll give it back to you when you get up here. I'm busy, so hurry, I can't mess with this all day!"

Slamming the receiver down, Laura stormed into the living room again, waiting for the doorman to arrive with her registered letter. Why someone was sending her a registered letter at home, she wondered. She saw them routinely at work, but very rarely at home. She popped up and down several times, looking to her entrance door, clearly impatient over what was taking the doorman some time to get to her condo.

The last time she went to her briefcase and withdrew her wallet. She eschewed carrying a purse, like so many of the corporate drones she saw every day. She pulled out a ten-dollar bill, shook her head, returned the ten, instead pulling out a five. She had to reimburse him for the messenger's tip.

Just as she was closing her briefcase, the buzzer on her front door went off.

"'Bout fuckin' time," she muttered to herself.

Jerking open the door, the startled doorman handed her the large manila envelope.

"I tipped the messenger five dollars, mam. It was all I had," he said apologetically.

"Fine. Here, I'll bring you something down when I go out"

Closing the door without even thanking the man or telling him goodbye, she turned the envelope so that she could read the sender's name.

"Burke, Burke, and Howe," she read as she began opening the large envelope. "I wonder who they are and what they want."

Then she remembered that she had used them before, for some of the legal work on the cabin and their house. Once she remembered that, she was doubly curious why they would have something for her sent registered and why it wasn't sent to her husband.

Dear Mrs. Houston,

Please forgive us for intruding on your privacy. We are about to close the office for our vacation month. We have been unable to deliver this receipt for, and accounting of services to your husband. We did not wish it left until we returned next month.

Thank you choosing to use our firm.

Sincerely,

Dropping the letter, she opened the accompanying envelope. Laura just stared at the itemization of services and her mouth dropped. According to the itemization the law firm had sent, the 'Paid in Full' account was for: Preparation of divorce on the grounds of abandonment, preparation of divorce on the grounds of adultery, the transfer of all real property into a single owner, listing their house in Westchester, their cabin the Catskills, all of their vehicles, and the preparation of legal papers.

Seeing red, Laura slammed her first into the table. How dare he think he could divorce her, not only that, but to accuse her of 'adultery'. She was not openly adulterous, well except for the Christmas Party. It was a party after all and he had not come to Manhattan to join her in attendance, not that she'd asked. Still she had only been sleeping with her boss and his boss to make her way to partner.

She didn't love them or anything. It just got lonely in the condo by herself all the time. It was surely not worth a divorce and she was certainly not going to give up everything she had worked so hard for, either. Well, to be honest he'd bought it all and worked to put her through school so she could go to work, but damnit, it was still half hers.

Going to the telephone, she dialed the number to the Westchester house. She would talk to him and get this all straightened out. Maybe she would go to the house and see him for Valentine's Day. She had not been to the house in at least a few months. She might give him a little; he was always good in bed. If only he had more ambition, she wouldn't be out working and playing among the power brokers, movers, and shakers. Laura frowned when the phone received no answer. The answering machine didn't even pickup.

'Well maybe he's out. It's Monday, maybe he went somewhere for the day. I'll try again later,' she thought.

As she was walking back to her bedroom, she again noticed the large pile of mail on the table. This time, noticing several large legal looking envelopes, she paused to look a little more closely. There were indeed several legal envelopes from the same lawyer's office as the registered letter.

Looking a little further she realized all the mail from the Westchester address was being forward directly to her condo. The effective date on the little Post Office stickers said 28 December. That was over a month and a half ago, she was curious that she had never noticed. She wondered why all their mail was being forwarded and why that effective date.

Before digging into the intriguing mail, Laura returned to her bedroom and slipped on some casual slacks and a jersey type pull over shirt. She hadn't earlier removed her lacy g-string. It was a Christmas gift from her boss and she had wanted to enjoy wearing it a little while longer. She didn't bother with a bra since she really didn't need one anyway. Everyone, besides her husband, had urged her to have a boob job. As it was she was so small chested, that she barely needed any kind of bra. Her tits were not even large enough to sag.

Sam had been the only one who had ever claimed to like her tits just as they were. He loved to play with her sensitive nipples, telling her if she enjoyed them, they were certainly large enough. Laura felt a small shiver go through her thinking of all the times Sam had played with her tits and praised them.

'Yes, she would definitely have to give him some for Valentines. Only Sam could make her scream like a banshee'.

More suitably attired for the time being, she returned to the mound of mail. She was curious. Before beginning on the large legal envelopes, she thumbed through the rest of the mail. Half of it was junk mail, just as she had guessed, but it was a mixture of her condo address and the house address. Apparently, the forwarding order that called for everything to be forwarded to her condo.

'That's unusual,' she thought. 'They don't usually forward all mail, just selected stuff. I'll have to remember to ask about that.'

In the stack was a post office confirmation copy of the forwarding order, dated December 16. It was in effect for six months. Her husband signed it at 4:30 in the afternoon. She thought and then remembered that day. That was probably the last time she and Sam had spoken. He had pleaded with her, repeatedly, to come spend Christmas up at the cabin as they always did.

He'd told her the firm could hold out a few days without her, and he really needed to see her. She had told him that he was being silly: She was too busy and needed to get to the Christmas party that night. She had been busy getting dressed when he had called. She had on her sexiest backless, knee length sheath dress.

Of course, she had to wear it sans underwear, since any underwear would show through the barely opaque material. If the night went well, they would just be something else to take off. She smiled embarrassed at herself. Boy had she enjoyed a good time.

She had done not only her boss, his boss, but also all the corporate VP's, all the 'big wigs' except for the president of the company. At least twelve in all, she wasn't really sure. She was so sore that weekend that her boss had to settle for blowjobs all weekend, her pussy and ass were so well used. It had been fun, having sex with all those big wigs, right there in the corporate conference room.

Ending her reminiscing, she resolved to make it up to Sam sometime. She had fun, but she did miss being on his arms and being squired around like a princess. Her boss let her pretty much fend for herself. She'd make it up to San, so things could get back to something like normal. It was just Christmas, nothing important. Just because he always wanted to do the tree and all the gifts and such, it was not that big a deal.

Keywords: Day, Renewal, (Non-), Valentine's,