Sexy Secretary is born

I wake up with a massive hangover. Have few mugs of coffee with Ella, and more or less, spend the rest of the day in t-shit and panties, discussing how good the party was. I knew my sexy comedian Adam would get in touch but I’m (pleasantly) surprised to see his text arriving so soon. I read it with a burning face, then show it to Ella as if it was a prize that I‘ve just won.

ADAM: Miss Secretary. My make-up won’t come off completely. I look a bit like a clown. What do you suggest? X Your Boss

‘It’s sort of symbolic and psychological…’ Ella starts a monologue looking somewhere at the ceiling for inspiration while stirring boiling pasta. ‘I like it’ she concludes ‘He’s trying to be deep’. ‘Bullshit’ I think gazing at her in silence waiting for ‘ I'm only joking’, but no, she is actually serious. Oh dear, never mind. I reply to Adam:

BbG: Dear Boss. This does sound awful... Did you try the make-up remover I’ve left in your bathroom? Your devoted Secretary

ADAM: Thank you, Miss. Excellent work as always. Your hard work needs to be rewarded. What would you like?

I read out Adam’s sexy reply to Ella. She smiles shaking her head and throws advice ‘This is the time to say – “I want you to take me from behind and it better be somewhere in the public. That’s how I like it”.

Yes,  that's surely what I would like to say but I’ve just met this guy! So I chose to show him my playful and romantic side and text back:

BbG: Thank you my Boss. Trip to Paris would be lovely x

ADAM: Tickets in the post. X  :)

BbG: Wonderful. You are the best boss ever! Is there anything else I can do for you?

ADAM: Your boss has to retire to bed and could use a rub down to help him relax. I know it’s not in your job description but I could always change the contract.

BbG: With pleasure (and aromatherapy oils)...

ADAM: Purrrrrfect. I shall of course return the favour. All you have to do is just undress and slide under the covers with me.

(Oh no - I will try to hold on to my clothes on as long as possible…)

BbG: Emmm, do I really need to undress? I could take off my jacket and heals, I guess... I’m warming up my hands.

ADAM: I wouldn’t want your work clothes to get creased. Also, I think you’ll like the way my smooth hands will feel against your skin, so I think it’s best for you to strip down to your underwear. In fact, that’s an order.

(The last part has me in stitches and I think it’s daring (and very, very sexy), but I’m not into having a ‘sexting’ session before meeting him again).

BbG:  ha, ha! Maybe a slow dance first with my arms around your neck?

ADAM: Sure. Hey, that felt nice yesterday. You felt good in my arms, pressed against me.

(Oh, that’s such a sweet thing to say…)

BbG: Mmmm, yes, it felt nice. And your hands are so soft.

ADAM: Soft but firm, and it felt good moving them over your body and pulling you in so I could kiss you.

BbG: Yes, firm. I liked the way you touched me and kissed my lips and my neck...

................

(The next morning I wake up to the following text:)

ADAM: I do apologise. My texting got cut short due to a technical error (I dropped the phone). Have a nice Monday x

BbG: J I forgive you! X

(I’m sure I will have a great Monday – I can’t stop smiling.)

Drunk and happy (part II)

They stand way too close for comfort and swiftly ask ‘What’s your name?’

‘Maria’I say calmly. ‘Where do you live?’ the guy wearing eye liner pretends to interrogate me. Trying to hold back laughter I act offended ‘Are you a stalker?’

He bursts out laughing shaking his head. ‘I live around here’ I admit finally and smile.

They introduce themselves: Adam and Tommy. They write comedy sketches for TV. None of which I’ve ever heard of.

Adam… nice, romantic eyes (bit too much mascara for my taste), handsome manly face, broad shoulders, fitted black shirt; cute, shy smile. I stare at his face far too long. I realise that only when his friend looks at us both amused.

The dance floor gets flooded with jolly party guests and the music is loud. ‘Let’s spend time together here’ Adam says lightly. ‘Fine, but who’s the boss?’ I ask playfully. ‘I am. And you are my secretary’ he pretends to be serious.

Pushed by the crowd I lean on Adam’s arm. I feel his warmth when he whispers to my ear ‘What is it that you want?’ I look at him surprised only to be met by his confident and encouraging gaze. Suddenly it’s clear ‘Freedom, filled with love and affection’ I answer. Adam smiles throwing his head back. ‘You can have it all’ I hear and with closed eyes, I start dancing, involuntarily, being pulled by, what I can only describe as, euphoria…

When I open my eyes, surrounded by masses of people moving rhythmically in partial darkness, I see Adam’s face near mine. I sense his smell – musky and clean.  His lips are cold, his tongue pushing deep. I embrace his neck with both hands and push my hips forward. Mixture of adrenaline and calming pleasure surges through me. I lean back gently pulling in his head until our lips are apart.

Adam takes my hand in his and leads through the crowd. I feel drunk and happy. Strong moonlight floods the floor through the window that leads to the garden.  Suddenly Tommy appears. He exchanges few words with Adam. They must leave, taxi is waiting; tomorrow is a big day.

Adam pulls me gently to the side, hugs me and whispers ‘I will see you again, right?’ I nod and hear the sound of a broken glass. I look around and see that I've pushed a glass that stood on a radiator. ‘Hope it’s not a symbol of our relationship’ Adam murmurs.

I see them at the door, with a red-haired, elegant woman.  Adam turns in my direction once more – he looks serious, even sad, and lifts his hand, intending to wave. I try to smile.

Ela comes over, ‘You like him’, she stands close to me looking at the door. Our shoulders are touching. ‘Yes’I say softly, and for the first time in a long time, I mean it.

Drunk and happy (Part I)

Photo: Akif Hakan Celebi

I am your little bear

Why don’t you reap my fur

Tomorrow, or better now!

I want to be your teddy, somehow.

This Saturday I swap a ‘second choice’ entertainment (drinks with ex-colleague, who doesn’t hide the fact he wants to get me into bed) for a top birthday party of someone I’ve never met. Yes, Ela’s friend’s is throwing a ‘80' Lace&Leather’ themed birthday bash.

In a taxi, dressed in 60’ short lace dress that belongs to Ela (and to Ela’s mother before that), and wearing the highest heals imaginable (I can't walk, only stand in them), I’m adding red lipstick and try to check the result in the mirror.

‘Bernadetta writes she feels like a foreigner in her own house’ – Ela gloomily reads out a text message – ‘apparently there are lots of English people there’ – she comments 'How odd'. 'Hello, we are in England' I comment in my thoughts and remember that Ula and her Italian friends always hung out in the same group, forgetting they don't live in Italy any more.

‘You look good Ula’ I reassure her about her choice of clothes – a lace bra with a semi-open jacket (without a blouse), and leggings made of fake leather.

‘I’m definitely ovulating today' – states Ula thoughtfully, gazing through the car’s window.

We stop the taxi in front of a licence shop to get drinks. With head stuck in a fridge I quietly comment on my own choice ‘No, not Rose… Only slats drink rose at house parties’. Ula giggles and I pick a bottle of red.

At the party now. I pass through the first room full of frightened-looking, unattractive Italians, who also happen to be massively shorter than me (now measuring 6’1 at least).

The next, equally small area has a group of dressed up gays dancing around a handbag.

We decide to inspect downstairs – it feels like an office party. Actually, more like a henhouse.

Calculating the odds of finding interesting people to talk to / have fun with, I decide to hit the ‘dance floor’ upstairs.I walk straight to the group of gays and smile. Everyone smiles back politely; a tall, blond girl shows me a large Russian prison-style tattoo on her upper arm. I pretend to admire it ‘Oh, that’s... great’.
’It’s not real’ the girl informs me looking at me gravely.

Alcohol takes its effect; I start dancing as if my life depended on it. ‘You’re poison!’ yells speaker. I encourage people to air guitar and practically form a band!  At this point I notice a guy wearing a lot of eye make up, staring, and then smiling at me. I’m too busy, with a routine of arm loops I started throwing, to return a smile but suddenly I am blushing. I now try to stop myself from blushing.

The next song is a bad one - MC Hammer – how do you dance that?? With determination and with bended knees! I develop new moves by keep opening and closing my legs. Satisfied with the outcome I look up and see two guys looking at me amused while pointing fingers and laughing. I get crossed and recognise one of them being the good-looking one with mascara on; thoroughly embarrassed I plan to run away and hide, but now see them both coming over. Oh, great!

To be continued…