I came out and he was kicking
back on his fake leather lounge that had more cracks in it than the terrazzo at
Pompeii.
“Wanna a drink?”
“Well, I’m driving, so I really
shouldn’t.”
“Suit yourself.” He patted the
space next to him on the settee.
“Sit down why don’t you?”
I looked around for another
chair, but there was only the relic from Pompeii.
“I guess I should be going
really.” I didn’t want to get into a ‘thing’ with Frankie, although as I played
out a few scenarios, being seen with a Colin Firth dopppleganger was a definite
plus. As I weighed up my options I saw Tess hovering over me saying ‘go for
it.’ I saw my sister pointing to my biological clock and then Frankie turned
from a bit of a dick to another fish in the sea.
When a large woman sits on a
small settee with a medium sized good looking fish things can get a bit cosy. I
plomped myself down and Frankie smiled. He put his hand on my knee and I
narrowed my preconceived ideas on how the evening would pan out.
“I think we have a lot in
common.”
“Really?” I said.
“Yeah,” Frankie leant forward
and flicked the lava lamp on and then swung his arm up behind me and turned off
the main fluro.
“You’re single, I’m single. The
odds of us getting together according to …” That’s when I threw caution to the
wind and kissed him.
It didn’t take him more than a
second to get the hint to stop talking. As I was teasing his bottom lip my mind
thought that at the outside I could pretend I was kissing Colin Firth, but Frankie was very responsive. Things
began to get interesting as he pushed me back on the seat and gave my tonsils a
bit of a thrashing with his tongue. Any further and he would have tickled that
delicate spot between keeping your dinner down and seeing the carrots all over
again.
I kissed him back, trying to get
worked up, but breathing through your nose and kissing is a bit like playing the
didgeridoo. We sucked face and then I broke off for a breath of air.
“It’s Evelyn isn’t it?”
Right there I should have called
a halt. I mean, if he can’t remember your name, what hope is there?
I closed my eyes and Colin came
into view.
“Yes.” I said with as much
breathy breath I could muster.
He went for my throat and began
nibbling and ended at my ear lobes. Who would have thought they could be so
sensitive and I thanked my lucky stars my mother had put her foot down when I
was 12 and forbid me to get them pierced. I nibbled his ear lobes and they were
soft and tender like fruit pastilles. We were nibbling, and kissing when my
body clock gave me a jab around about the half hour mark and I felt an urge
that I hadn’t felt before. An ache that started in my nether regions and worked
its way up to my belly button.
“Hell’s bells, it’s hot in
here.” I pulled him off me.
I didn’t think it sounded like
an invitation and I hadn’t meant it as such, but Frankie began to undo the
buttons on my shirt.
Here it was again. That moment
when you need to weigh up the options and either call a halt or go for it.
#I was 29 years old for God’s
sake.
#Apparently on average. people
have 8 sexual partners
#I was 29 years old for God’s
sake.
Frankie was three buttons in
when my ample bosom met the mood lighting of the lava lamp. From where I was
sitting they looked quite nice. Lush, inviting and plump. Frankie took one look
and the exclamation was less than subtle.
“Holy shit.”
“I beg your pardon?” I said with
just a hint of displeasure.
“They’re bloody enormous.”
“Excuse me?” I said.
He sat back and pointed as if
picking out an attraction for a tourist bus. I could just imagine it as my
ardour went from red lining to cold shower.
“And here we have the famous
tits. Note their size in relative terms. Postcards can be bought at the gift
shop on the way out.”
“It’s just that I…um…I.”
“What?” I’m sure Colin wouldn’t
have reacted like this.
“I never…”
“Well you have now, so either
get over it or get on with it.” I said. I had read enough of Cleo to know
sometimes you just need to take charge. “Women on top,” I said to myself
thinking of Mary.
Frankie ran his fingers through
his hair and kept starring.
“Frankie?”
“Mmm.”
“Is there a problem?” I felt we
were losing the last of the moment so I undid my last three buttons and pulled
him close for a kiss. I could tell his heart wasn’t in it and then of all the
times, my stomach began to growl. A low rumble that ended in a gurgle like a
bath plug being pulled.
“Sorry, I’m sort of hungry.”
“Yeah.” Frankie sat up and
without taking his eyes off my boobs he added, “hungry.”
There was a tone in Frankie’s
voice, a nuance that I must have missed as he sat there and admired my breasts.
He let out a low moan. A combination of a growl and a beast in pain.
“Pardon?”
“Oh Evelyn.” Frankie shuffled
closer, if that is possible on a small two seater.
“May I?” he asked like a kid
asking for a lollie.
It had never occurred to me that
a man might ask my permission. In my limited experience it was wham bam and not
even a thank you ma’am.
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