Web of Desire
Authors: Ray Gordon
Contents
About the Book
An older man. A friend of the family. Kissing her neck, he moved down and sank his teeth gently through the thin material of her blouse, and again she quivered.
Mandy is struggling with life, especially with money and men. And when she bumps into Paula, an old friend from school, she immediately envies Paula’s glamorous lifestyle – the luxury, the travel and the affluent boyfriends in tow. Competing with Paula’s success and sexual encounters, Mandy begins to dress, act and behave as she has never done before. Single-minded in her reckless pursuit of her friend’s conquests and triumphs, the naïve and inexperienced Mandy is soon indulging her most salacious fantasies. And it’s not long before Mandy is on a par with Paula’s professed indulgences. She’s slipped so far down the slope to depravity she hardly recognises her former self. But then Mandy discovers a shocking truth about Paula – something that will rock her to her core.
About the Author
Ray Gordon is a popular erotic novelist of near legendary status, who has penned over forty novels for a variety of big publishing houses.
Also by Ray Gordon:
TASTING CANDY
DEPTHS OF DEPRAVATION
UNEARTHLY DESIRES
THE ROAD TO DEPRAVITY
THE UPSKIRT EXHIBITIONIST
LUST CALL
Ray Gordon
One
MANDY WAS TWENTY-TWO
and not unattractive. Tall, slim and with long black hair, she should have been enjoying her life, but she was feeling increasingly despondent. The web-design business that she’d set up from home had been running for two years, but it barely generated enough income for the essentials, let alone for luxuries. She’d heard stories about people making a fortune on the internet, but it wasn’t as easy as she’d thought. It seemed that everyone wanted something for nothing, and they were unwilling to part with their cash.
As she lugged her shopping to the bus stop she wondered whether she’d ever be able to afford to buy a car. It was early days, she thought, checking her watch and looking down the road for the bus. Maybe, after three or four years, the business would pick up and the money would start rolling in. A car would make things so much easier, she thought as a Mercedes pulled up at the bus stop. Having to take a bus everywhere was a pain. And it was no fun in the winter with the wind and rain …
‘Mandy?’ the blonde in the Mercedes called through the open window. ‘Mandy Jones?’
‘Paula,’ Mandy breathed, stooping to look at the girl in the driving seat. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine. Want a lift?’
‘Thanks. That would be great.’
‘Put your bags on the back seat and get in.’
Mandy dumped her shopping in the back and breathed in the aroma of the leather upholstery as she sat beside her old school friend. Paula had obviously done well, she thought, eyeing the Mulberry handbag on the dashboard. Feeling rather ashamed to be picked up at a bus stop, Mandy covered her own tatty handbag with her denim jacket. Paula was wearing a dark skirt and matching jacket with a white blouse. Her long blonde hair crimped, her make-up impeccable, she’d turned out to be an attractive – and obviously successful – young woman.
‘So, how are things?’ Paula asked her, pulling out into the traffic. ‘Oh, where do you want dropping off?’
‘Anywhere by Lockwood Park will be fine,’ Mandy replied, not wanting to give the address of her small maisonette in the less salubrious part of town.
‘God, we haven’t seen each other since school. So, are you married, got kids, divorced?’
‘Not married,’ Mandy replied. ‘No kids, either. How about you?’
‘No time for marriage,’ the other girl replied with a giggle. ‘I’ve been having too much fun to settle down and tie myself to a kitchen sink.’
‘Yes, and me,’ Mandy breathed. ‘It’s great to see you after all this time. Are you still in touch with anyone from school?’
‘Not really, but I have seen Kay Burnshaw working in the local supermarket. Fancy ending up as a checkout girl. Mind you, she never was very bright. How about you – do you work?’
‘I have my own business,’ Mandy replied proudly. ‘It’s web design.’
‘Oh? Does it pay well?’
‘Er … yes, yes it does. What do you do?’
‘I run my own business,’ Paula said, tapping the steering wheel impatiently as she pulled up at the traffic lights. ‘Import and export.’
‘Sounds interesting.’
‘The money’s interesting, and I get to travel abroad. California, Tokyo …’ Putting her foot down as the lights turned green, Paula smiled at Mandy. ‘I should be going to Thailand soon. Now, that
will
be fun.’
‘Thailand? Wow, I wish I was going.’
‘I always mix pleasure with business, Mandy. That’s the secret of success. Here we are, Lockwood Park.’
‘Thanks, Paula. It’s great to see you after all this time.’
‘Hey, we’ll have to meet up for a drink. How about this evening?’
‘Well, yes, all right.’
‘The wine bar in the high street? Say, seven o’clock?’
‘Yes, I’ll be there.’
‘It’s lovely to see you again, Mandy. We’ll have a few drinks and catch up on the latest news.’
‘Great. I’ll see you later, then.’
As she climbed out of the car and took her shopping from the back seat, Mandy bit her lip. Money was going to be a problem. All she had was the ten-pound note she’d put by for her mother’s birthday present. She really couldn’t afford to go out drinking, but it would be nice to meet Paula and chat about old times. When she got home she dumped her bags on the floor and gazed at her reflection in the mirror.
Twenty-two years old and broke, she thought dolefully, recalling the luxury of Paula’s Mercedes.
Wandering
into the lounge, she looked at the secondhand sofa and the threadbare carpet. What with the mortgage and other bills, things hadn’t been easy. But she had faith in her web-design business, and she was sure the day would come when the hard work would begin to pay off. Eyeing the brown envelope on the kitchen table as she put the shopping away, she knew that time was running out. She was getting behind with the bills and, unless she started making money soon, she’d be in dire trouble.
Mandy went into the dining room, switched on her computer and checked her emails. She shook her head despondently. A man wanted a web site designed for his landscape-gardening business, but he didn’t have a great deal of money. He’d listed his questions. Could Mandy do him a deal? Could she design something simple on the cheap? Could he pay by monthly instalments? This was typical, Mandy thought, replying to his email. Didn’t he realise how long it took to design a web site? Even a simple design would take several hours, but she needed the money and offered to design a site for a cut price.
Her father had always said that she shouldn’t lower her price. He reckoned that her services should be expensive, giving the punters the idea that they were paying for something special. He was right, she knew. But she was afraid that she’d get no business at all if she followed his advice. His analogy was that a coffee table for sale in a backstreet shop might be fifty pounds, and in a posh shop the same table would be two hundred. Not having a head for business, Mandy didn’t know what to do.
It was approaching seven o’clock. Mandy dressed in a turquoise miniskirt and white blouse. She looked good, she thought, eyeing her reflection in the dressing-table mirror. But she didn’t feel good. She applied
her
make-up and tried smiling, but her smile failed to conceal her pained expression. It was worry, she knew. Worry over the business and her lack of money. She’d often thought of selling her flat and moving in with her parents, but that would be admitting defeat. The way things were going, though, she might not have a choice.
Mandy grabbed her handbag and walked the short distance to the wine bar. It made a pleasant change to go out, she thought as she wandered into the bar. The sound of people joking and laughing cheered her up. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out for a drink. It must have been at least a year ago, maybe two. She ordered a vodka and tonic, took her drink to a corner table and checked her watch. Ten past seven. Hoping that Paula wasn’t going to let her down, she watched a group of men standing at the bar. They were chatting and laughing, reminding Mandy of her teenage years when she’d go out on Friday nights with her friends.
She’d met her first love when she was eighteen. John was good-looking and great fun to be with. But he’d run off with another girl and had left Mandy heartbroken. Alan came along and, after a year, he did the same thing. Mandy had decided that men were a waste of time and had put all her efforts into her web-design business. But two years without a relationship – two years of celibacy – had left her introverted. She’d locked herself away in her own little world and had thought only of her business. She really had to make an effort to get out and meet people before she became a total recluse, she thought as Paula breezed into the bar.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ Paula said, walking to the table. ‘One of my boyfriends wanted to see me this evening and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.’
‘That’s OK,’ Mandy said. ‘Get a drink and we’ll have a chat about old times.’
Watching the girl walk up to the bar, Mandy sighed as she recalled her friend’s words.
One of my boyfriends
… How many men did Paula have? she wondered as she eyed her friend’s red miniskirt and white crop top. The last thing Mandy wanted was several men hanging around her. One man would be nice, though. A male friend to share the odd evening with, go out for a meal now and then and …
‘He looks all right,’ Paula said, joining Mandy at the table and nodding in the direction of a young man standing at the bar. ‘I wouldn’t mind getting inside his trousers.’
‘Yes,’ Mandy breathed, unsure what to say in response to Paula’s crude remark.
‘Mind you, I have enough men hanging around at the moment. How about you? Are you screwing anyone?’
‘Well, I … I do have a boyfriend,’ Many lied.
‘What’s he like? Has he got money?’
‘Well …’
‘Always make sure they have money. That’s the first rule, Mandy. A man without money is about as much use as a man without a cock.’
‘That’s a good way of putting it,’ Mandy said, with a giggle.
‘It’s true, isn’t it? By the way, someone said that you were working in a café. I’m going back a couple of years, so I can’t remember who it was that told me. But I do remember thinking that they must have been wrong. I mean, who’d work in a greasy-spoon café?’
‘Yes, I … I did for a while,’ Mandy admitted sheepishly. ‘Actually, I didn’t work there. I mean … I
did
work there, but I was only helping out a friend.’
‘Oh, right.’
Mandy felt her face flushing as she recalled her time at the café. The pay had been awful, but she’d worked there for eighteen months because she couldn’t find a decent job. Luckily, her parents had given her the deposit for her flat and had even helped out with the mortgage a couple of times. But, even with their help, things hadn’t been easy. Recalling the late nights she’d worked at the café, the times she’d got home at midnight, she gazed at Paula and pondered on her success. It was funny to think that the two of them were the same age and had had the same education, and yet Paula had done so well for herself.
‘I meant to ask you earlier,’ Paula said. ‘Why were you waiting for a bus? Don’t you have a car?’
‘No, I … I don’t need a car,’ Mandy replied. ‘Working from home, I don’t need to go anywhere.’
‘I don’t know how you can survive without a car,’ Paula breathed, her blue eyes frowning. ‘Lugging your shopping home on a bus every week must be dreadful.’