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Used to work for AVIVA offshoring IT to India.  Now retired through ill health, writing my life story as a series of blogs chronologically from birth to current time.  At www.jw-alifeofsurprises.blogspot.com

Thursday, 1 November 2012

Not so cocky now are you?

Suited, Booted and Big-Haired - 
only without Tuxedo Shirt!

I awoke next to Monique, her breathing steady and quiet.  I looked over the balcony and could see the Pacific Ocean in the distance through the large picture window.  There wasn’t a sound to be heard apart from Monique’s breathing and I lay back down looking up at the ceiling, noticing the concave lines between the sheet-rock where the Spackle (plaster) had not quite covered the joints.  If I'd of lived down there I may well have been the decorator who painted that place, such was my work in the Bay Area.  Painting new build condo's and apartments.  Monique stirred beside me and I looked at her profile lying as she was on her back.  Little twitches behind her eyelids were apparent as was the slight flaring of her nostrils as she breathed in.  Stunningly beautiful even when asleep, I reached over and drew traces with my fingertips softly around her face and watched her nose wriggle and her lips purse as my fingers moved over them.  Smiling as I considered the events of the night before, I lifted the sheet slightly to look at her body, her breasts were smooth mounds, each topped with a raspberry coloured nipple, her stomach flat and taught, the slight mound raising up between her hips covered with soft hair.  My fingertips moved across her skin tentatively, unwitting to disturb her slumber and I could feel myself getting aroused as my touch moved ever lower, silkily, delicately stroking her skin and the hair between her legs which were beginning to spread again,  Whether unconsciously or not, she was enjoying my touch and I was getting ready to start the second round.

My attention was momentarily distracted by a phone ringing somewhere, probably next door, I then remembered Mum and looked at my watch.  It was still early, only just after seven and I wondered whether I should continue my gentle foreplay or whether I could fall back to sleep if I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes, postponing the seduction for a while longer.  Whilst I could have carried on with the seduction as it was, there was no chance of anymore sleep!  I was wide awake now and needed to decide whether to continue my amorous manoeuvres or not, when Monique rolled over and away from me.  I  sat up searching the room for my boxer shorts, jeans, cigarettes and lighter, and finding them, picked them up and made my way downstairs as quietly as possible to the kitchen.  I filled the kettle turned it on, pulled on my clothes and searched the cupboards for cups, instant coffee and sugar.  I found everything I needed and having made a brew walked across the ground floor and out through the patio doors onto the balcony, closing the doors behind me.  

The clean bite and snap of the salty sea air hit my throat and I breathed in deeply which in-turn inspired a deep throaty cough, smoking!  I sat on a patio chair and recovered my coffee from the table, where I placed it during my coughing fit, and drank as much as I could, despite the heat of the liquid.  I lit a Marlboro and stared out to sea, the cars on Highway 1, between myself and the Ocean; zipping past, their shapes disappearing and reappearing, as they passed behind the tall pines along the roadside and on the hills.  The Ocean was a deep blue, almost green in colour and here and there, white-capped waves formed and pursued one after the other in a race to shore.  Seagulls, their wings spread wide soared up and away as the waves grew in size as if trying to reach up and pull down the birds, the Gulls calling but the noise barely reaching me where I sat.  I smoked and sipped in turn, savouring the taste of both coffee and tobacco; a true flavour partnership if ever there was one.

Walking back inside I found Monique coming out of the bathroom, naked.  She smiled and said “Good morning George”.  “Hi, how are you?” I asked, “Feeling great, do you want more coffee?” she said looking at the cup in my hand.  “Yes please” I replied and walked over to where she stood by the entry to the kitchen where I took her in my arms and kissed her lightly on the lips.  She wriggled free and made fresh filter coffee, still naked; and it was all I could do to stop myself from bending her over the sink and taking her again.  “I told you I wanted to take you to my friends house, remember?” she asked.  “Of course I do” I said, “well they work and we have to get going if we’re going to catch them” she said, darting past me and upstairs to get dressed. “Oh” I thought to myself, no chance of a quickie to start the day off right then?  I followed her upstairs to find her pulling on jeans and a t-shirt, Nike’s and a cardigan.  I picked up my creased white shirt and dressed, aware that I was going to look very out of place in my evening finery.  “Are you sure we have to meet these guys?” I asked, “My clothes look a bit over the top”.  “You’ll be fine they won’t care,” she said and dashed downstairs to the bathroom again emerging a few minutes later, after I had followed her down, freshly made up, her hair tied back and she was bouncing around excitedly.  I collected my keys and wallet and we walked out to her car and she drove back down the hill towards the Ocean, turning onto a road leading through an estate.  We parked outside a block of apartments and she was out of the car in a shot with me following after her.  She knocked on the door of the first apartment we came to and I heard a squeal come from within and seconds later the door flew open and three women stood in front of me, staring and laughing, saying simultaneously, “Oh…my………god”.

“This is George Michael,” said Monique.  More squeals and shrieks, the women were all aged around their late teens, early twenties and were bouncing up and down as though on springs, “Come in, come in” said one and Monique and I walked in, as they all stood to one side.  As I passed by they scrutinised me closely, staring and looking at one another and then closed the door behind us.  I sat next to Monique, who grasped my hand and held it tightly on her thigh as the others circled around and then sat on a low couch opposite.  Monique looked like she was fit to burst and started telling them all about the meal and the kissing, the jazz bar, more kissing and eventually got to the part where we arrived at her apartment.  Her audience were captivated, sitting tightly together and issuing forth, “oohs” and “ahs” and more “oh…my…gods”.  Meanwhile, I was looking at them, two blondes and a brunette, all built for fun and not a ‘Goppa’ amongst them; Mark Cameron would be kicking himself!  My mind went into overdrive, a “5-some” might be on the cards I thought, but where would I start?  Monique spared most of the gory details from our late night session in her apartment, but said enough to ensure that the women went from looking at her in envy, to looking at me in lust.  Excellent!

But………there is always a ‘but’.  They all had to get to work the clock was ticking and with no more than a quick peck on each cheek from each, we were gone.  We got into her car and Monique said “Right, I’ll drive you to the Motel”.  I was pleased that she didn’t say, “I’ll drive you back to your Mum” as it would have been weird.  “They know I am not George Michael, right?” I said, “Those girls, your friends, they know I’m not him?”  Monique had a mischievous smile running across her lips and said stared ahead at the road.  I suppose she wanted them to think she’d slept with a star, or, she had told them the truth and had wanted to show me off, to get them to appreciate just how easily she had assumed I was him and all the more after my Mum had confirmed as much; I’ll never know.  Monique drove me back to the Motel pulled into the car parking space next to my car and did not turn off the engine.  I looked at her, she looked at me and I knew that this was it, over.  Nothing else, no follow up’s, no repeats, no relationship.  Simply sex, well actually superb sex, if I do say so myself.  A one-night stand, and were there no complaints from either of us.  

Well, I was actually a little put out that the tables had not only been turned, in so far as she was the one walking out so to speak, before anything like a repeat could be bought up.  But also, I really did like her.  I leant across and made to kiss her cheek but she turn her face towards me and kissed me softly on the lips.  “I loved last night, it was great,” she said.  “Same here,” I replied.  “Take care,” she offered and I turned, opened the door and stepped out of the car.  I closed the door and she reversed the car back and turned to face the road.  She opened her window and said, “I’ll always remember last night.”  I started to walk forward, to get to her window and say we could do it again but she was already driving to the exit and pulled out almost straight away.  Gone. 

My thoughts turned to my winking at myself in bathroom her mirror last night, after the sex and thinking how cocky I was, how so self assured.  In fact, I now wonder whether, as Monique drove off, had she looked in her rear view mirror and smiled to herself, cocky as ever, so self-assured?  Tables turned and feeling more deflated than elated I walked back to our Motel door turned the key and walked in, finding Mum sitting on her bed reading.  I said hello and noticed that a large picture that had been hanging on the wall above my bed was laid on top of the bedding.  “Those nice men from next door knocked on our door last night, they wanted to see if you wanted to go out with them,” she said.    "He still couldn't take no for an answer, the stubborn sod," I thought.  I picked up the painting and held it in my hands.  “That picture came off the wall in the middle of the night, there was lots of banging and noise going on,’ said Mum.  “I bet there was!” I thought, not telling her that it was the gay bloke who’d offered me a freebie nosh off and his partner.  They were probably shagging so forcibly that they caused the painting to fall off its hook!  I hung it back up and stood back, "Did you have a nice time?" asked Mum.  "Wonderful", I replied, "But I don't think I'll see Monique again."  Mum didn't respond, probably noting the tone of my voice as I spoke and sensing that all had not gone as well as I had planned or expected.  With the painting back on the wall I looked at it again, thinking about how lucky I was to have avoided it landing on my head and noting to myself that last night had been a hit and a miss.

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