First question, is that title grammatically correct?
I meant to put "Two Road Whores, Rode Hard".
I am going to cut and paste my rough draft of this story starter, to get feedback. I have the new version of word, so I wasn't sure what format was the most universal to save them in. I normally put my chapters all in one document, but I find that if you submit a story its better to have them in a page for each chapter.
So apologies in advance if this is verbose. Your thoughts on this are appreciated. I put in some ironic comments about people who take a while in the set up of their stories, as most of this is set up.
==========================Two Road Whores, Rode Hard
CHAPTER ONE: Prologue
In 2007, in an age when the Internet had made accessible what was once only available to a select few, all manner of fetishes and kinks. If you could dream of a fetish, be it a woman sitting on an apple pie, or being forced to itch herself for hours after having laid in ants, all the way from the most sensual to the most humiliating, it was available on the internet to see or read about it for free.
This was also a time of Youtube celebrityism. If you could do something outrageously stupid, you could be a super star. A girl could get on there and talk about how she likes to fart during sex and smell it, and suddenly she has 300,000 subscribers to her inane ramblings about farting.
Brittany Spears vagina was the lead story on the NBC nightly news, and when that failed to shock, she shaved her head.
They stopped reporting on men teachers having sex with their students. It was too boring and common place. You had to be a hot 26 year old female blonde teacher or have run a prostitution ring in the sixth grade or something ‘interesting’ to make the news.
Astronauts and Senators were wearing diapers and travelling across country in insane races to see who was the more disturbed.
Our Society had gone a long way from the outrage we would have shown over anything nearly as provocative or scandalous.
So it should be no stretch of the imagination to you, that Susan Anderson, a wife and career woman at one of the nations largest banks was about to make a life changing decision.
Susan was 36 years old, an attractive woman who did pilates, watched what she ate, was a fan of American Idol and Survivor, liked watching CSI. She dyed her hair a nice natural red to cover up the dirty ash blonde that was just now starting to get a few grays (only she would have noticed).
Susan had a nice career as a project manager at a Bank, and she managed a team of all male software developers and analysts who looked to her to make important decisions about resource allocations and when to schedule a ‘go/no-go’ meeting or a half a dozen other change management processes.
Susan’s Husband of 11 years was a nice guy, he worked out, played racquetball, spent time with her 15 year old Daughter Amanda, and her 12 year old Son Michael.
The both drove nice gas guzzling SUVs on their short commute from Julington creek country club to work.
In short, she was the typical suburban American woman, and she was bored with her life.