This segment and the ‘Barbara’ segment have been released as a full-length novel, ‘The Descent of Elizabeth Browning’, on Amazon Kindle/Kindle Unlimited (UK) and Amazon Kindle/Kindle Unlimited (US)
This story contains strong interracial and cuckolding themes
Chapter One
Tommy
This is the story of my marriage from my perspective. My wife, Mrs Elizabeth Browning (yes, I know. Irony, huh?), will tell her side of the story. I suspect hers will be far more entertaining from a reader’s point of view, yet there cannot be light without shade.
I am 31, and my wife of six happy years is 28. I work in the insurance industry for a high-street broker in an affluent area of London. Our house was an inheritance from my grandmother. She was estranged from her daughter—my mother—and did it to spite her. My mother, Louise, was delighted on my behalf. She dotes on me, and I adore her.
Alongside my mother in importance is Elizabeth. We met at Uni, got engaged, and our lives are content and straightforward. In retrospect, it was probably dull, but we enjoyed the ‘dullness’. We didn’t know any better. Everything about me screams average. Average height, average build, brown eyes, brown hair. I don’t rock the boat. I don’t stand out. Elizabeth is more outgoing. She is blonde, fair-skinned and slender—a classic English rose. We suited each other. Our sex life was equally conventional. If you had to colour us as a couple, it would be beige. Sure, we had our wild moments—who doesn’t? Sex on a beach on holiday. The sand got everywhere. The party where Elizabeth got chatted up by a handsome older dude, ‘all teeth and cock’ as my mother would say. My wife giggled, enjoying the attention, the tease. I got a rush out of it, too, and we had for us what would be classed as wild sex afterwards, using the incident to indulge a little bit. I was the handsome stranger, and she was being talked into ‘naughty sex’. She even used a rude word or two. Shocking stuff!
Elizabeth is a secondary school teacher. She loves her job and the kids, and we were planning our first steps into parenthood until fate intervened in the shape of Dr Phillip Robinson, the new Principal at Elizabeth’s school—an impressive man with first-rate credentials and presence. Eyes would gravitate to him. He was tall and broad, 6’5″, striking and handsome, with a rich bluish/black skin tone.
My wife gushed her excitement and praise after the staff met Dr Robinson over drinks prior to his official start date.
“We are so lucky to have him working in the public sector! He is constantly being sought after by prestigious private schools, but they don’t interest him. Feels the people there aren’t real. I totally get that. Imagine him at our little school!” Her eyes sparkled.
“It isn’t that little, and we are in an affluent borough with a good catchment area.” I was a little irritated. The guy was a Head Teacher, not Nelson fucking Mandela.
“I guess. Anyway. We are in good hands under his leadership. Big hands, too! I thought I was going to get lost in them!”
“Want to get takeout?”
“What? Sure. Pizza?”
I nodded—anything to change the subject.
Little else was said after that. After a few days of Dr Robinson this and Dr Robinson that, the topic of his royal fucking highness gradually receded. Which was natural after the initial enthusiasm. At least, that was my blithe assumption.
Lesson one. Never fucking assume. A serpent had entered our Eden.
****
Life meandered on. Nothing changed. We got up, went to work, came home, ate, and occasionally made love. It wasn’t a rut exactly, but it was close. It wasn’t until a month later that I noticed changes in Elizabeth. She wasn’t one to fuss over her appearance or clothes. The school environment didn’t leave much room for experimentation, and Elizabeth was a feminist by nature and education, yet her wardrobe was subtly changing. Her work skirts were a little shorter, her heels a little higher, and she started wearing her hair in a ponytail. A pronounced one at that. It arched up and then down. I liked it.
“Why the change?” I asked one morning.
“Oh, no reason. Just fancied a different look.” She smiled at me with that open fresh face of hers, her eyes sparkled.
“You’re in a good mood,” I smiled.
“Very!” she laughed and poured herself more tea.
I looked at her closely. Her makeup seemed bolder—the lip gloss was redder, and the eyelashes thicker. I hesitated, then shrugged and returned to the emails on my phone, planning my workday.
The buzz of her phone interrupted my flow. She mouthed an apology. “Work messages.”
I shrugged again. Elizabeth had been tasked with setting up a working group and took the project seriously. Her excitement at being chosen had been infectious, and I was delighted for her. It did mean more out-of-hours work demands, but that was no different to me. I glanced at my watch—time to move. I headed upstairs to get my suit jacket and found the bedroom empty. A giggle came from the en-suite, and then what sounded suspiciously like a soft moan. What the fuck? I was tempted to listen in but knocked over the bedside lamp with my jacket, causing me to beat a hasty retreat.
Elizabeth came down a few minutes later. Neither of us said anything. We caught separate tubes, and I watched my wife disappear to her platform.
Chapter Two
Elizabeth.
I know Tommy has filled you in with the basic details, so I won’t bore you. My story starts with Dr Robinson and my first introduction to him. Drinks in the staff room after school, and I hurried along, not wishing to be late.
Grace pushed a plastic cup of cheap plonk in my hand. “Just in time. He’s over there! Damn, he is gorgeous!”
“He is?”
“God, yes! Absolute hunk! I may get divorced!” Grace Harker was in her early forties and married to Ken. We had socialised a few times and enjoyed their company.
My eyes tracked to where a giant of a man stood imposingly tall with my colleagues orbiting around him. He caught me looking and smiled. It was an engaging, open smile, and I immediately warmed to him. After a few minutes, he wandered over, scattering staff in his wake.
“Mrs Browning, I assume?” His voice was a deep bass rumble. It resonated through me. I nodded, my throat suddenly dry.
I held out my hand. He took it, bowed and brushed his lips over it. “My pleasure. May I call you Elizabeth?”
“Of—of course,” I stuttered. I felt the moisture on the back of my hand. I fought the urge to lick it. Pull yourself together!
“Grace said you would be along soon. I have reviewed your record, and I am impressed. You are a tremendous asset to this school.”
I simpered and blushed. “Thank you, that is very kind.” He let go of my hand.
“We must talk further, Elizabeth. I am anxious to get the staff’s input on where we can improve.”
“I look forward to it, sir, Dr Robinson,” I babbled.
“Good. Now, if you will excuse me, ladies.”
Grace and I nodded until our necks were sore.
“Well?” Grace nudged me.
“Well, what?” I stared at his broad, retreating back.
Grace laughed, noting my stare. “Oh, nothing, nothing at all.”
I floated home. Never had a man made such a first impression. I even succumbed to licking the back of my hand in the staff restroom, hoping to taste him. It all came out of me in a burst when I got home. Tommy gave you the abridged version. I positively enthused about Dr Robinson. It was if he was a living God!
I was impatient for the weekend to be over and get back to school on the Monday. I was like a teenager on a first date as I agonised over what to wear, discarding blouses, tops and skirts and ending with my first choice. To be honest, there wasn’t a great deal of choice in my wardrobe.
Classes diverted my thoughts from our new Principal, yet he tickled away at the back of my mind. I briefly saw him during the morning break. He was talking to Grace and Patti, then moved off. Grace gushed about him later at lunch, and I affected disinterest. My heart thudding in my ribcage gave the lie to that disinterest.
To my crushing disappointment, I didn’t get to talk to him. He was perpetually surrounded by others eager to make themselves known. The majority of the staff were female, and I entertained dark thoughts about my not-so-fair sex.
I hung around after school, even walking by his office, hoping for a call, a chance to meet, and then I saw him driving away. I stopped, embarrassed by my behaviour. I was a married woman with a loving husband, even hoping to start a family, and here I was moping around like a silly, well, a silly tart!
I went home and tried to banish Dr Robinson from my mind…
This story continues in the Novel ‘The Descent of Elizabeth Browning’ available on Amazon Kindle/Kindle Unlimited (UK) and Amazon Kindle/Kindle Unlimited (US)
