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Have Faith? Don't Mind If I Do! Ch. 01

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After a tragic loss, can they stop the inevitably slide?
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This work has been written by INKENT and published solely on the Literotica platform. I have no issues with re-writes if someone fancy's it or extending the tale, but please let me know if you see this crop up on any other platform. I'm sure that any other author on here would appreciate the same courtesy too.

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Somewhere around the age of nineteen/twenty I had a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I fucked a red-hot MILF who had come on to me out of the blue. You want to hi-five me for this? Back then, I would have done exactly that. Now, I wish I had a time machine to go back and stop it happening.

The MILF was one of my mum's friends, my mum had asked me to pop in there as I was working up her way and drop something off. She made me a drink, then ten minutes later she was all over me, a real, sex-starved MILF. An hour later I was on my way home, wondering what the hell had happened.

As years ticked by, I pieced together exactly what had happened. Around a year earlier, her child had died, a generic issue that had passed through her side of the family. It transpired her husband couldn't come to terms, putting the blame squarely on her shoulders, and simply pulled back into his shell, taking all emotions and feeling for his wife with him.

That lack of love surfaced that day I went to her house. It wasn't sex she was after, it was love, someone to show a sliver of love to her, and to do that, she had used sex. It turned out she started having young men around whilst her husband was at work, until everything inevitably imploded. From the things my mum told me she went downhill, on a trip of sex, alcohol and drugs until she died of an overdose, not that many years later. I so wish, If only I had the head on my shoulder that I have now, how differently I could have handled the situation back then. Maybe I could have saved her.

This is a fictious tale, fictious people. It is not a documentary or a docu-soap, it tries to explore how loss can affect a relationship, how not finding a way to deal with terrible things can start to tear a relationship apart.

If you have lost someone, especially a child, possibly avoid this story, I would rather warn you now, than let you get part way in before realising some of the subject matter.

I'm a Brit, so this one is English, English. I'm going to have a go at writing a couple of stories that are entirely US based, in US English. Should be fun to write, hopefully surfacing soon.

Lastly thanks to TIM1135 for doing some serious work after my initial writeup. As usual, I've fiddled afterward, typically to re-write sections to align to edit suggestions. Those cock-ups are all mine! I'll doff my cap for ALL the editors out there!

*************************************************

Have Faith? Don't Mind If I Do!

Faith sat at her desk, looking at herself in her compact mirror for the third time in the last half an hour. It was nerves that made her do it. In the mirror, she could see the crow's feet that had formed around her eyes over the last few years, no doubt the stress caused by the tragedy that had befallen her family, had accelerated her ageing.

Putting the mirror away, she looked out of her office window that overlooked the River Thames, close to Tower Bridge. She was deep in thought when she was interrupted by one of the director's voices.

"Hello Faith, let me introduce Toby Scott-Phillips, our new Property Acquisition and Merger Manager. If you don't mind, I'll leave Toby in your capable hands for you to introduce him to the team."

Toby was Faith's new boss; she had applied for the job but, knew her chances were slim. Toby was the nephew of the Finance director so, he became the newest member of Allcott and Thomson, a big-league legal company specialising in the affairs of the rich, famous and large corporations. His team specialised in dealing with the legalities around the sale of businesses, mergers and acquisitions.

He sat opposite her. Toby was a tall man and fairly well built, but not fat. Filled out, would be a good term. What surprised her was his voice, it had a gravelled tone when he spoke. The looks and voice went together. Ray Winstone. Yes, Ray Winstone, the actor. He drew broad similarities to him.

[------------------]

In a conference room shortly after their introduction, Faith introduced the team to Toby. He outlined his plans and how his gut feeling was that they would strive to build upwards upon the rock-solid foundations of the business portfolio already in place. Everyone left the meeting upbeat. There was some whispered gossip amongst some of the women and it was nothing associated with work.

Faith sat at her desk. There was something familiar about Toby, she felt sure she'd met him before but, where? It bugged her throughout the day and she eventually put it down to likely crossing paths at a seminar or corporate event.

At the end of the day, she took the Docklands light railway back to their apartment in in Greenwich. Her husband, Ibrahim, had beaten her home today so, she was greeted by the amazing smell of various spices that were the mainstay of the amazing vegetable dishes he could concoct.

[------------------]

Ibrahim had been born in this part of London although it was in Woolwich, close to the free ferry crossing. Brought up on a council estate, he considered himself one of the lucky ones that didn't drift into a world of crime. His saviour came in the form of athletics. He found he excelled at running, with the 10,000-metre becoming his choice event. Twenty-three years ago, it had proven to be a sage choice. He won a gold medal at the Olympics.

It was at that Olympics he met his wife, Faith Adams. Faith was born during the Kenyan Garissa Massacre which took place at the Garissa Primary School football pitch. The local population were held for three days without water or food and over three thousand people, including her parents, perished. Against all odds, a new-born baby survived and was adopted by an English couple who were aid workers. Her adopted parents named her Faith. Faith, that one day, the world would stop seeing needless tragedies like had befallen their adopted daughter's family.

[------------------]

Faith removed her coat, walked over to Ibrahim and kissed him on the cheek. He turned and reciprocated, kissing her on the cheek too.

"Can you lay the table please Faith, should be ready in a jiffy. By the way, how'd it go...with the new boss?"

"Seems decent enough, at least he isn't some pompous upper-class idiot that is full of himself. He gave a little motivational speech to us all but, I'm sure that some of the girls felt motivated in other ways."

"Oh...and why's that?"

"There was lots of girly chatter through the day. At lunchtime, they were cackling away in the canteen and I overheard Monica say she'd need to bring some spare knickers tomorrow. You know how she has no filter. I'm sure it'll die down."

"So, new office pinup boy then. What we got? a Brad Pitt, Jason Statham, Hugh Grant look alike?"

"That's the thing...no. He reminds me of Ray Winstone, the actor. He looks and sounds more like he'd be selling dodgy cars on a lot than dealing with the intricate details of working within our legal system. I was gutted I didn't get the job but, he does have a decent work track record. The funny thing is, I'm sure we've met before but, I can't place when or where. It's not important...I'm sure it'll come to me one day."

[------------------]

Ibrahim served dinner. As they ate, he asked the question that the limited discussion had led him to form in his mind. Suddenly stopping, with the fork midway through the motion between the plate and his mouth, he spoke;

"Did he get your motor running too?"

"He's not my cup of tea Ibrahim. Have you ever seen me lust after a white boy? Now, if he was a Denzel Washington lookalike, it could be a different matter!"

He smiled at her and continued eating. Faith was bemused by the question. He had never, at least as far back as she could remember, asked her if she found another man attractive. It made her feel uneasy. The relationship between her and Ibrahim had been bombproof and she always thought it couldn't be breached. But a breach had occurred, a fissure had been growing since 'it' happened.

[------------------]

Faith had met Ibrahim at numerous track events when they were both in their late teens in the couple of years before they were both selected to represent Great Britain at the Olympics. At the Olympics, they both struck gold, literally and metaphorically. Winning gold medals in their respective events, they became the British darlings of the Olympics.

Faith, the black woman born in Kenya, brought up as the daughter of a white middle-class family. Ibrahim, born in England, he was brought up by his parents on a London council estate who'd come to the United Kingdom from the Ivory Coast. It was a match made in media heaven and they found themselves in the limelight, long after the Olympics finished.

The metaphorical gold was, they found each other. At the closing out Olympic party, their relationship, which had been growing like a well-tended plant, spouted into something serious. Within weeks of coming home, news of a pregnancy created a further media frenzy.

Their son, Jacob, was the outcome of their celebratory night at the ceremony, taking after his dad in stature and track abilities. He was predicted to be another family gold medal winner when he suddenly collapsed halfway through a race. Nobody knew he had inherited a genetic heart defect from Faith's linage and died that day on the running track, leaving behind two distraught parents.

[------------------]

That was three years ago and once they had comforted and supported each other after 'it' happened, something changed in the dynamics of their relationship. It was a partial disconnection of the feelings for each other, as if the love they had previously felt had somehow, been numbed. They never really discussed it but, both felt it within themselves and it had started to get worse, not better.

They used to have a really great sex life. It wasn't uncommon to make love well into the early hours of a weekend. They explored and knew each other bodies intimately. They understood what made the other tick sexually and this created an ability to lead each other to sexual nirvana.

When they started to make love after 'it' happened, it was reserved, feeling like they were two strangers trying to find their way in love. The main issue was that intimacy started to lack something between them, growing progressively worse, as layers of time started to build up since their son's death. The mistake they made, was accepting it as the new norm.

To paper over the cracks that had started to manifest in their relationship, they both threw themselves into work. Ibrahim was a full-time member of the Olympic selection committee and therefore, travelled extensively around the country and Europe assessing athletes plus, providing guidance for the up and coming. Faith travelled. Less but, sometimes for longer durations of time. Usually within the UK but, since Brexit, within the confines of Europe as countries set about creating operational bases in both domains.

[------------------]

It had been a month since Toby had started and she admitted to herself, he had a presence that had energized the team. That included her.

At forty-four, she was still a shapely, attractive woman but, she felt as if that shine for her had gone from Ibrahim's eyes. Several months back, they had both been away for a heavy week of work, so she purchased some fresh lingerie from Victoria's Secret. She changed into it in the en-suite whilst Ibrahim was getting into bed. She had her hair done earlier in the day and slipped away into the bedroom beforehand, to spend time applying her make-up perfectly, for a night of passion.

When she walked into the bedroom with a suggestive slow stride, he looked at her face as she reached the bed. She lent down and kissed him, pushing the bedsheets back as she knelt across his athletic body. She kissed him slowly and passionately and moved to grind their groin together and...his body failed to react.

"I'm sorry Faith, you look stunning, it's not you, it's me. I've had a tough week. Watching the teen track events has brought it all back, it always brings it back...it's what we've lost."

She moved off of him and lay in the bed next to him. She cuddled into him and he put an arm around her to draw her in. But it was missing, she felt as if the part in her heart for him just withered, a little more. This wasn't the first time this had happened, when would this agonising decay stop, she wondered?

It wasn't long before Ibrahim's breathing changed to the tell-tale pattern to show he was asleep. She lay in the darkness, as tears trickled silently down her face.

[------------------]

Back in the present day, there was an informal drink after work to celebrate the closure of a particularly protracted contract. As they sat in the pub in Hayes Galleria, the women started to chatter amongst themselves. Monica moaned at her lack of progress: She had done everything in the 'Woman's Book of Bagging Your Man' to entice Toby into bed. The last comment she made that, she would strip in his office down to stockings and her fuck me pumps, brought shrieks of laughter from the other girls.

As they calmed down Sonia spoke;

"Monica, you could bend over his desk dressed like that shaking your tush in front of him and it'll make no difference. He has eyes for only one."

There were murmurs and nods, and all eyes had fallen on Faith.

"Noooo, you can't be serious!" cried Faith.

That was greeted by a choir of "uh huh" and nods of confirmation. Once Again, Monica was quick out if the blocks.

"You can't be blind girl. He looks at you like a cat stalking a canary! Mmm, he could eat me any day of the week!"

Cackling laughter broke out as Toby arrived with the Finance director. Toby asked what the joke was he'd missed.

Monica struck whilst the iron was hot.

"We were talking about a nature program on TV last night. It was all about polygyny, where one male mates with several females in a group. We were discussing how it would probably play out if..."

She let her worlds trail away, everyone got the gist of her comment. Once again, cackles of laughter arose from the women and the two men laughed along. Faith glanced up and looked at Toby. She had ignored, what she had thought she'd seen, since he'd started. Looks that camouflaged a lustful desire and yes, Monica was right. They were clearly for her. She felt an unfamiliar flutter in her core, a flutter not felt since the time when she realised Ibrahim wanted her, years ago.

[------------------]

A couple of months after Toby joined the business, he called Faith into his office, just before lunch one day. It was a carefully orchestrated move on his part. He brought up some business that could have been discussed over a telephone call, then put a large framed photograph on the desk.

"Oh my God, where'd you get that! I'm in that photograph, it's the year I won gold at the Olympics!"

She leant over the desk, and pointed to the twenty-one-year-old black woman that was part of Team GB. Toby also stood up and his finger touched a gangly, nineteen-year-old, high jump athlete. Their faces were inches apart. As Faith scrutinised the picture, it all fell into place.

"Damn, I said to Ibrahim I'd met you but, couldn't place it. I'm sorry, I couldn't quite place you before now. You have no reference to any of this in your media profiles."

Faith turned the photograph over, a printed legend listed all of Team members.

"Toby Phillips. You changed your name?"

"My dad died a few years before the Olympics, my mum married shortly after and my mum took on a double-barrelled name. It made sense to do the same."

But that wasn't the reason, it was family embarrassment born out of the Olympics. Being just nineteen-years-old, full of raging hormones, he had an erection occur whilst waiting his turn to jump. With a substantial long and thick cock pressed down his thigh, the stretchy material of his garments showed a distinct shape that wasn't particularly well hidden. A keen photographer snapped away. The following morning every tabloid paper in the UK had a picture showing the embarrassing state of poor Toby. Headlines such as GB Pole Vaulter Hides Secret Pole During Event made Toby's family a minor laughing stock, which didn't go down well. As for Toby, during the Olympics, he stayed in his room unless he was required to go out for some reason.

Faith asked how he fared at the Olympics.

"No, unlike you, I didn't shine. But it was an experience, wasn't it?"

He smiled and chuckled, Faith didn't understand what was so amusing.

"I had my five minutes of fame out there for something completely... different ......but it did have a silver lining which was to my benefit."

Faith looked at him inquisitively expecting him to continue. Toby smirked at her.

"I tell you what, I'll spill the beans over lunch. Are you OK with going out to lunch with your boss? We'll pop over to the Bookmakers pub, they have a nice lunch menu."

"OK, let's do it, but you better spill Toby!"

[------------------]

She left after the exchange and light banter, trying to remember back to the Olympics. Because of all the media fuss centred around her and Ibrahim at the time, other memories never really became deeply seated in her memory. Despite trawling her memories, she resigned herself to the fact it would wait until lunchtime.

As Faith left his office, Toby rubbed his hands together. He would enjoy this. The chase, the subtle approach, breaking down and peeling away the barriers until he had what was rightfully his. Faith, she owed him. One thing he had learnt from his step-father was the art of being patient. His step-father and his forbearers, spent their lives acquired businesses to asset strip. He would watch them slowly struggle before stepping in with a ridiculous bid to buy the company. When Toby was a late teen, his step-father would sit reading the Financial times over breakfast, smirking to himself as he would follow the downturn of whatever business he planned to snap up.

But Toby wasn't after a business, he was after a woman. One, particular, woman. He remembered as if it was yesterday, standing out in the Olympic stadium waiting for his turn to perform a high jump. On the outfield. were a couple of athletes warming up, glancing across to them was a black fit and toned woman stretching down, touching her toes, with a well-formed derriere on display. It was that sight that had caused his cock to stir and grow that day. It was that woman that had been the cause of the mockery his step-father felt he had to endure and the subsequent hard life metered down to Toby, when he returned from those Olympic games. He was now going to reap some payback for all those years ago.

[------------------]

When they reached the pub, Faith was surprised that Toby had booked a discrete booth for them. They ordered drinks and foods, then she spoke;

"Right, come on, spill the beans then!"

It was all light hearted and Toby was grinning like a Cheshire cat. Reaching inside his jacket pocket he carefully removed a piece of folded paper and passed it to Faith, asking her to be careful with it, as it was fragile though age. It was a newspaper cutting, which she carefully unfolded, placed on the table then brought both of her hands up to cover her open mouth but, was unable to hide the shocked expression on her face.

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