The Chain: Link 6 - Sex Stories

The Chain: Link 6

It was when the taxi continued along the Ring Road instead of taking the left turn to the area where she lived that Tess started to feel worried. “Excuse me,” she said. “I think you missed the turning.” “What turning?” the cabbie replied. “You didn’t really think I was taking you home, did you?” That was the second shock, but the third shock made her lose her breath. It came when Tess looked in the driver’s rear-view mirror and saw only a pixelated mass where his head should be. “Don’t worry, Love,” the cabby said with a grin in his voice. “Everything’s as it should be.” “Should be?” Tess said, her voice trembling as she felt herself shaking. “I asked you to take me to Blackstone Road.” There was a silence before the cabbie said, “You also kissed the figurine and recited the incantation.” This was the fourth shock. Tess stared straight in front, at the cabbie’s thick neck and broad shoulders. The figurine. The memory of that made her blush. “You people always convince yourself there’s nothing in it,” the cabbie went on conversationally. “How can there be? There’s no such thing as magic. It’s just a giggle. Trust me, Lady, I’ve heard them all.” Tess screwed her eyes shut, trying to block out the memory. “Please,” she said. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just… Please just turn around and take me home.” “Sorry, Love,” the cabbie replied. “Nothing doing. Like I said, I’ve heard ‘em all. You all think you want something, but really you want something else. And when you’re on the ...

... verge of getting what you really want… you get cold feet. But trust me, nobody’s ever sorry they did go through with it. Not afterwards.” There was a pause. “Mind you, it took a while for you to come round, I’ll give you that.” This was true. All week they’d arrived through the post. First the padded envelope with the figurine on the Monday, with the accompanying note. Tess had dismissed it as a prank, but the figurine had been nice, and she’d decided to keep it. It matched a couple of her plant pots perfectly, perched between them. On Tuesday there’d been a reminder, on Wednesday too, and then again on Thursday. There’d been nothing threatening about the notes, and Tess just ripped them in pieces and threw them in the bin, so that the children wouldn’t find them and start asking questions. They were that age where they’d just about started to read and were curious enough to ask questions about anything and everything. But Friday had been different. Her ex-husband had come round to pick up the kids. Doubtlessly they’d have much more fun this weekend than Tess could ever afford to give them, and it made her sick. But she couldn’t bring herself to deprive the children of their father. She’d already arranged to spend Friday evening with an old friend of hers, Vanessa. They’d talked about old times and new times and got quite giggly on good wine that Tess could never afford herself. Vanessa’s husband had made himself scarce, leaving the women to, well, women’s talk. The couple’s ...