Lovejuice Minnow Promotion // Le chic, le chèque et le choc by @mishegas

in #writing7 years ago (edited)

Le chic, le chèque et le choc (The chic the check and the shock) - serialized adultery for the free of heart

Chapter 1 - The voyage begins

Madame Madeleine Clotilde Alice Couve de Murville knows all about the time-honored tradition for French women of le chic, le chèque et le choc.

At least she thought she did. An aristocrat by birth, married to another. Bluer blood than theirs was not to be found in France. Early thirties, two adorable children, a Swedish nanny, country estate, horses, Paris pad in the 8-eme arrondissement, country clubs, Caribbean getaways. Childhood sweethearts who their common heritage moulded together with unshakeable bonds of mutual understanding, respect and love. Everything seemed as good as it gets. . .

Until one day, opening a letter in a plain envelope addressed to her was the beginning of a journey which ended in a small apartment with a view over the rooftops of Paris from bohemian Montmartre. And the discovery that after looking at clouds, life and fooling around outside her marriage bed from both sides, she really didn’t know chic, chèques or chocs at all.

It was all her favorite great aunt Maud's fault.

Not that Madeleine knew nothing about infidelity, all her friends had affairs regularly. And when they weren’t romantically ‘distracted’ they thought of nothing else. Madeleine’s rude awakening began with a lawyer's letter inviting her to their offices in a less than salubrious part of Paris, where the mystery thickened fast.

The building was time-worn Belle Epoque. The creaking ancient birdcage lift did not inspire confidence. But Madeleine pressed on. A door down the dimly-lit musty hallway opened and an ancient Moroccan stepped out and smiled.

He bowed his head slightly as she approached.

"As-Salaam-Alaikum. Maître Abdel Othmane Seddiki, at your service, madame."

She shook his bony hand and was guided into a surprisingly modern outer office where a stunningly beautiful young Moroccan woman was surrounded by monitors and keyboards.

Sandalwood scented the air.

Seddiki's office was a voyage into discerning Art Deco.

Mint tea was served in small guilded glasses.

Madeleine was spellbound. She hoped she wasn't blushing as the old man seemed to stare at her, as if his eyesight was failing.

"When I see you, madame," he finally said, his voice thick and cracking with emotion, "It is as if your great aunt is in front of me. Is still with us. . . She was a friend of many years. And her loss pains me greatly."

It was then Madeleine understood. "Now I remember. You were at her funeral."

The old lawyer nodded sadly. "I was."

Madeleine suddenly recalled a number of very distinguished older men grieving. And some surprisingly younger ones, none of them widowers, mingled in with the mourners.

"Madame, you great aunt married very well. But she also inherited a considerable fortune from her mother, which under the séparation de biens marriage contract has nothing to do with her public estate which other lawyers are handling. . . I have always looked after her private business."

He picked up a key off the top of two folders on his desk.

"This key opens a safety deposit box at the BNP rue Saint-Honoré. There are only two signatories: your great aunt. And yours."

"But I've never signed anything."

The old man smiled sagely and waved an arthritic hand dismissively.

"It was arranged many years ago. As far as her private business affairs go you are her sole beneficiary. May I suggest you go there today and acquaint yourself with the contents. You great aunt had exquisite taste in jewellery. And was given many extraordinary pieces during her lifetime."

"I don't know what to say, maître. I feel I'm in a dream."

The old man laughed, his withered form suddenly springing to life. "You are. You are, madame. If only you knew what you will discover," he cried. waving his hands about excitedly. "But even I can not tell you all your great aunt's secrets. . . And there are many."

He pushed one of the folders across.

"You will also need to go to Geneva to see her lawyers there. That will be trickier to explain to your husband, but it's essential and I'll make the introductions when you advise me the date you can go."

He pushed the last folder over. And smiled. It was bound on all sides by red tape and sealed with red wax.

"Your great aunt's diaries, madame. They will explain many things. Open many doors you never imagined existed where you will be made welcome. . . And these," he said, holding up a pair of Fichet security keys. "The keys to an apartment in Montmartre."

"I didn't know she had one."

"Neither does anyone else." His voice dropped, so she struggled to hear the fateful words. "It was where she, and generations of women in her family before her, discretely received their lovers, for the past hundred and fifty years."

Madeleine found the nearest bar-tabac, ordered a pastis, poured a little water on it and tossed it back in one hit.

The patrons, for the most part young unemployed French Maghrebis fell silent. Impossibly cute 30-year old blonds with pixie hair cuts, tanned legs, wearing YSL dresses, Jimmy Choo shoes and €1,000 Chanel handbags rarely dropped in for an afternoon apero.

She smiled at the barman and walked out.

One of the wasp-waisted young idlers nursing beers, got up, left his friends and followed her into the street.

"Hey, baby!" he said, with a dashing yet innocent smile which had never failed to melt female resolve since he was fourteen. "Wanna go somewhere and fuck?"

Madeleine turned, smiled and spoke in English which threw him off. "Sunshine! If you'd asked me yesterday I would've smacked you in the face. And today, baby, you're still shit outta luck, because I gotta go to the bank. But tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow maybe you can come up sometime and see my etchings."

Karim stared gobsmacked as Madeleine's eyes suddenly opened wide in shock and she turned, stumbled and promptly threw up into the gutter between two parked cars: salade niçoise, tarte tatin and pastis.

Thinking on his feet, Madeleine's gallant of the moment quickly saved the day, hailed a passing cab and bundled her into the back seat. Trouble with the cops over crazy American tourists was the last thing the neighbourhood needed.

Madeleine wiped her mouth with her handkerchief and gave bemused driver precise instructions in French to great aunt Maud's bank. She quickly gave her neck and dress a refresher blast of Obsession. It would be an unpardonable start to the relationship if her new bankers smelt vomit and pastis on her breath.

Leaving lunch in a Paris gutter hadn't been in her plans. But it cleared her head fast. And she realized for the first time in her life a randy teen had just tried to pick her up. Things like that just didn't happen where she came from. Even when she was holidaying on St. Tropez topless beaches

Now after throwing up from all the excitement, the experience left her feeling alarmingly horny for previously unthinkable liasons.

A pleasing new sensation she realized would not go away in a hurry.

She began thinking up scenarios for the trip to Geneva.

Intermingled with graphic speculation what it would be like to fuck the kid.

It also occurred just how long it had been since she'd fantasized about fucking teenage boys.

She ended up marrying the only one she'd ever obsessed about.

But she'd never felt wet with desire in a Paris taxi before - over anyone. Especially a handsome chancer she’d barely laid eyes on for twenty seconds.

She briefly wondered how many other happily married women riding in Paris taxis at that moment were feeling wet with desire over young men whose only objective was to lead them astray.

Maybe it was the pastis. . .

Later that night when the kids were asleep Monsieur Couve de Murville discovered passion in his beloved wife neither even dared dream existed. She indecently excited him beyond measure. He simply couldn’t get enough of her.

Madame was equally shocked. And she loved it.

It never occurred to her husband to wonder why or how.

Madeleine knew. She had found the first choc in her life. An experience which seriously turned her on.

Perversely she figured she owed it to her husband to discover more.

And she knew just how she was going to do it.

Aunt Maud would surely approve.

Stay tuned to @lovejuice for further episodes by Holden Braithwaite

All rights reserved
Image rights acquired from pixmac

You can find a full length novel by Holden Braithwaite “My Year With The Gods”

on Amazon Kindle Unlimited https://goo.gl/TQMhBW

Sort:  

Sorry for posting this here but I have no other way of contacting you. I made a payment of 0.2 SBD and never recieved an upvote. Roughly 7 Days ago you will be able to find the transaction...
Lovejuice.png

I have made 4 transactions of 0.1 SBD for 4 different Posts. Hope all is in order, If you would be kind enough to refund the 0.2 SBD as displayed in the screanshot or upvote another post. It will be most appreciated.

Here is a post that I questioned the non upvote 7 days ago - https://steemd.com/photo/@cryptoscout/re-lovejuice-re-moekyawsoe-yangon-photo-festival-61d8fb89d80c3-20180226t104017595z

Hello @lovejuice, I have the same problem too, Today I've sent you 0.200 SBD but I didnt recieve anything. I think there has been a problem and my post url couldnt be sent to you. But my SBDs were not repaid by you. Could you please solve this problem.

It seems like @lovejuice is not bothered by these comments and she doesn't seem to respond, for someone as powerfull as her I think this is a lost case...

I don't think we are going to get it back

Unfortunately, it went by wind.

I voted in a very nice. writing post post and commented and followed you and shared the post so that everyone can see this post and vote in this post.Hello friends.i am Bangladeshi have been there for the last few days join steemit family.steemit is a great platfram for us.ihope everyone support mefor success.....@steemitraj

Aweome post
Kept up

@lovejuice I have sent you 0.5 SBD approx 1 hour ago and voting round was finished about 50 min ago. But i did not get upvote and refund. Please, look into the matter. My post link is
https://busy.org/colorchallenge/@mehta/colorchallenge-sunday-purple-life-change-flower-at-office-lawn
Now it shows in current round, what is this?

@lovejuice Now i got upvote ($ 0.86), which is not deserved by me. I sent in previous round and got upvote in this round. Which is loss making upvote in this round.
Hope you can check and give the correct answer.

If you don't already know and use steembottracker this will be a great help
https://steembottracker.com/
because you can see BEFORE making a bid when the round ends and how much has already been bid. Leveraged returns to everybody are REDUCED the closer the total bid is to that delegated.

So if your 'return' ROI (return on investment) is or can become negative - as it can be if people pile in and destroy a round, that is not @lovejuice fault.

There ARE some crazy people on steemit who delibertely destory the leverage - to such an extent with the small bots that all bidders in a round might LOSE 96% or more! of what they transfered.

Better to make more smaller bids so if one of the bots is overloaded at the last seconds you don't waste your money, and get a leveraged return you expect.

asteemit logo.jpg

@lovejuice and @mishegas you don't understand the situation actually what happened.
I sent the bid 10 min before the round ends. and after round ends it shows in next round. this is the actually what happened. Please, check my first comment.

Sounds like the bot did not accept the bid until the next round, irregardless of when you sent it. Everything goes through the blockchain, so if there are holdups there, the bid never arrives until the blockchain processes it and sends it on to lovejuice bot

There are always things going wrong in IT

"Serialized adultery for the free of heart" - Keep it up

@lovejuice goes where the National Enquirer would like to, but isn't on Steemit yet

Nice post!
Please check my new posts out! :)