by Ally Sky
Response from C.T.G: Things a girl needs in order to get her man.
The name brings a huge smile to my face. Someone is addicted to ‘50 Shades of Grey.’ This could be interesting.
Every girl who is in the business of seduction should have some useful tools. I recommend you look at the following list:
The object’s address and phone number. One can never know when this may come in handy, and it would be a pity to spoil a good idea and a perfect performance because of lack of preparation. Good planning is the foundation of every success.
If you have his number, here is a link to a great site, which can help you find his address.
Conduct exhaustive research, which includes hobbies, working hours, restaurants, and favorite haunts, friends, family, and cars. There is no such thing as running into him by chance on the street. Leave that to the amateurs. If you bring a bottle of wine, bring what he likes best. Don’t you think so? We never know who we’ll need to recruit for help, so it’s best not to puncture the tires of the wrong car!
Wow! I laugh out loud. That’s going one step too far! Puncturing tires? I’m in the seduction business, not Fatal Attraction. And I don’t need to bump into him by chance. I have a feeling he’ll show up whether or not I want him to. But I can definitely relate to the idea that I should be prepared. Contingency plans can be useful. C.T.G, stick around, I may need more ideas from you later.
I finish approving all my responses and assume there’ll be more by evening. I stub out my cigarette, lean back, and take a sip of my weak coffee.
Maybe it’s time to go through Danny’s papers and try to discover some vital information, such as Ben’s phone number. In Danny and John’s bedroom, there’s a big desk against the wall. I know I’m not supposed to be in here, invading their privacy like this. It’s completely inappropriate. So I’d better do it quickly.
Danny’s business card is on the desk. It has their office address. I take a picture of it with my phone and hurriedly go through the drawer. Just his number. That’s all I need. His phone number…
I can’t find it anywhere.So, annoyed, I leave the room and go out to the patio. How the hell am I going to get the guy if I can’t do a simple thing like find his phone number?
Oh, it’s so obvious! I pick up my phone from the table and dial John.
“Hi. Everything okay?” His voice is calm and pleasant first thing in the morning. Everything’s great. I was just poking around in your bedroom. How are things with you?
“Everything’s fine. John, maybe you can do me a favor? Ben still hasn’t come by to get his painting and I’d like to call to remind him. Do you have his number?” I ask confidently. He has no reason to suspect my motives. John takes things in stride. Danny is another story.
“Sure. I’ll text it to you.”
“Thanks. See you this evening.” I breathe a sigh of relief and finish the conversation. After a few seconds, my mobile beeps, and Ben’s number appears on the screen. Mission accomplished.
I’m in the kitchen making toast, in a great mood. I like it when I don’t let past events get me down. Though I’m completely aware that everything can change in a matter of hours. Nevertheless, right now I’m happy and feeling naughty, and that’s all that matters.
I finish eating and go downstairs. On the floor against the wall is the painting Ben liked. I take out my phone and take a picture of the painting. Then I type a message.
12:14
Waiting for you in the basement. Don’t you want me?
I send the message with the painting and turn on the music system. B.B. King and Clapton are playing “Rock Me Baby” and it suits my exultant mood.
I pull the box with my colors next to me and start painting. My body sways to the music as my fingers smear the colors slowly, lazily, and I hum. Something about the blues, the rain, and the feeling of the canvas…my heart expands and, for one happy wonderful moment, I can breathe.
I wash my hands and peek at the clock. Five thirty. I need to get supper ready. Danny and John will just have to manage with toast and omelets tonight.
I go up the stairs, grab my phone to send a message to Danny, and see a new message waiting for me.
12:17
Good to know you have my number.
Maybe my private number will work better
And his number is attached. I reread his message, grinning. He gave me his private number. He likes my silliness, although he has no idea what I’m planning. And what does that even mean? That he’s coming to take the painting?
My men and I are sitting around the table. Danny and John are having a stupid argument about something at work. I’m not listening to them. Legal issues and building plans. I can’t stop thinking about that response to my blog, about puncturing tires. Oh my God! I grin. Now that’s a crazy idea.
“What are you thinking about?” Danny sees my smile. Shit. I swallow.
“I think I need to find a job.” I say the first thing that comes to mind. Well, I do have to start looking for a job this week.
“John, that girl who worked with Sarah, what’s her name?” Danny scrunches his face, trying to remember. He’s always bad with names.
“Jill?” John answers and takes another bite of his toast.
“Yeah. Didn’t she leave?”
“Yep,” John answers uninterestedly.
“Well, what do you think?” Danny stares at him with an unfathomable look.
“Talia? She’d be perfect,” John answers back, nodding. What are they talking about?
“I need to check with Ben.” Danny is being mysterious.
“Check what?” I ask intrigued.
“About a job.”
“With you?” I pull a face. What can I do at a construction company?
“Is it beneath you to work with us?” Danny grins.
“It’s not that. I just don’t know what I’d be able to do there.”
“There’s a job with Sarah from Interior Design. She needs someone who can visit art galleries for her. I’m not exactly sure. In any case, I need to speak to Ben first.” He carries on eating his omelet.
Working in Ben’s company? This just keeps getting better and better. Not what I expected. I have no doubt that it could create some great opportunities for me. My imagination goes wild and starts plotting and scheming. An impish smile appears on my face.
“You’re full of smiles today.” John laughs at me, and I blush like a ripe tomato in a hothouse, as though he can read my thoughts. “Are you coming outside?”
“Sure.” I’m still smiling. I’m dying for a cigarette.
We laze about on the sofas outside, drinking coffee, smoking, and watching the rain fall from the roof, watering the grass.
“So, why do you think I’d be perfect for the job?” I pry.
What are the odds of Ben letting me work for him? As it is, we’re still trying to figure out how this friends thing works. Meaning, he’s busy trying to annoy me and I’m busy trying to seduce him.
“Because you love art, you’re friendly, and you know how to dress when you want to.”
“Well, Danny still needs to speak to Ben.”
“Yes. He bailed out of supper at the last minute today,” John states, and my heart clenches slightly. Ben bailed out of supper? I wonder why.
“Did he stay at the office?” I pry.
“No, he went home. He’s probably eating a packet of crisps in front of his laptop on the couch. I swear that man never stops working.”
“Yes, well, the company is growing,” I roll my eyes.
“I see you’ve talked to each other,” John laughs.
“More or less,” I answer vaguely. He has no idea what Ben and I talked about yesterday and I’m keeping my promise not to tell Danny. I assume this includes John.
“So what are your plans?” John’s question surprises me.
My plans? Which ones are we talking about? Because I have many. My head is full of plans; schemes and seductions, and naughty things
.
“This evening.” John gets up from the couch.
“Oh, this evening,” I stammer.
Of course this evening. What did I think he was talking about? I’m so dumb sometimes…
“I think just a shower and then bed,” I reply. Then Facebook and my blog. And Facebook again.
“Good,” he smiles and goes inside with me following behind.
I’m lying in bed, wearing only a tiny black tank top and panties. I open my laptop, go to my Facebook page, and I can immediately see Ben is logged into his. He’s so confusing. I know I’m on a serious mission to drive him crazy, but what does he want? Well, let’s give him another taste of my favorite world of chatting.
Talia Blum: My painting is offended…
Ben Storm: Hi…
Talia Blum: And to you, too.
Ben Storm: I couldn’t make it. Next time.
Talia Blum: Somebody may go down to the basement and like it better…
Ben Storm: Then he’ll have me to deal with
Talia Blum: How are the crisps?
Ben Storm:?
Talia Blum: Supper?
Ben Storm: John told you that old joke? I thought he’d had enough of it
Talia Blum: You missed a delicious meal of omelets and toast.
Ben Storm: I have a feeling I missed something a bit more interesting than that.
Talia Blum:?
Ben Storm: Never mind.
Talia Blum: You’re being evasive…
Ben Storm: Absolutely. Did you paint today?
Talia Blum: Yes.
Ben Storm: What?
Talia Blum: The usual. It’s called Baby.
Ben Storm: Not Justin Bieber?
Talia Blum: Hey. Watch what you say about my Bieber…
Ben Storm: Are you serious?
Talia Blum: No Eric Clapton and B.B. King.
Ben Storm: Great!
Talia Blum: I’m putting it on my computer now.
Ben Storm: You really love music.
Talia Blum: Can’t live without it. And neither can you
Ben Storm: How do you know?
Talia Blum: The sound system in your car gave you away.
Ben Storm: Great observation.
Talia Blum: What are you listening to?
Ben Storm:
Talia Blum: Come on?!
Ben Storm: B.B. King and Eric Clapton.
Talia Blum: Cute…I hate cute.
Ben Storm: At least we’ll listen to the same music…
Talia Blum: So how was your day?
Ben Storm: Now who’s being banal?
Talia Blum: Come on, give me two minutes to play the nice woman in the kitchen with the omelet and the toast.
Ben Storm: I don’t think that’s you.
Talia Blum: Hey, I can be that cute woman in the kitchen
Ben Storm: When?
Talia Blum: Come for dinner and maybe you’ll find out…
Ben Storm: Someone said she was unpredictable. Dinner suddenly sounds like a dangerous matter.
Talia Blum: I can be a good girl
Ben Storm: When you feel like it. I don’t think you feel like it.
Talia Blum: I thought we were friends. Do you want to hurt my feelings?
Ben Storm: I’m still trying to figure out how this friend thing works for you.
Talia Blum: How does it work for you?
Ben Storm: Supper together, going out to pubs.
Talia Blum: Exactly my point…
Ben Storm: I don’t buy it. You’re more sophisticated than that.
Talia Blum: Can’t argue with that.
Ben Storm: You’ll have to eat your supper without my enjoyable company.
Talia Blum: We’ll see about that
Ben Storm: Should I be afraid?
Talia Blum: Petrified…maybe...
Ben Storm: Really? That bad?
Talia Blum: You have no idea…
Ben Storm: You’re impossible.
Talia Blum:
Ben Storm: What am I going to do with you?
Talia Blum: I can think of a few things…
Ben Storm: What happened to just friends?
Talia Blum: With benefits?
Ben Storm: Talia…
Talia Blum: Pity. You can’t blame me for trying
Ben Storm: I haven’t decided yet if it’s annoying or admirable.
Talia Blum: Blah blah blah. You love it.
Ben Storm: True Just don’t go putting ideas into your head.
Talia Blum: Stop begging. It’s unattractive. And ineffectual
Ben Storm: Talia, cut the crap!
Talia Blum: You can shout until tomorrow…
Ben Storm: You haven’t heard me shout yet. Believe me, you don’t want to.
Talia Blum: I’m dying to hear you shout…
Ben Storm: You are impossible…
Talia Blum: Talia! Yes! More! Ahhh!!!
Ben Storm: Ok…good night, Talia.
Talia Blum: Good night, Ben. Sweet dreams…
I log out and can’t stop smiling. I know things he doesn’t have an inkling about. At this very moment, my inbox is filling up with new ideas, and I plan on using every one of them to conquer him.
I lie on my side, staring at the naughty sentence I wrote, and I can just imagine his voice, whispering, moaning those words in my ear, lying on top of me naked and coming inside me.
Monday
May 28th 2012
Loud Groans
I am uninhibited, my words allowing him a peek into my naughty thoughts. I want him so badly; I want him to do whatever he wants with my body. I want to submit to him. I want him to be mine. I don’t care what he says. He doesn’t want a girlfriend. Fine. He’s had his say. Now it’s my turn. My demons raise their heads with a cunning smile. They know the party has begun and are waiting for their invitation.
The familiar music is already playing and I know the dancing will soon commence. I’ll put on my evening gown and begin the devil’s dance.
He wants me naughty and vivacious, and I’m going for it. So, creative, far-fetched, crazy ideas—whatever you’ve got. I’m waiting for you to send me on crazy missions around the city in pursuit of my man. The race has begun…
I’m staring out the window. The trees are blowing in the weak and silent October wind. I’m sitting in the office, my back to the closed door. The small radio is on, playing songs; not all of them appeal to me. I don’t have too much work. This office isn’t a permanent thing, it’s just until my enlistment date arrives. I can hardly wait. So many opportunities, just around the corner.
Hundreds of girls tried out for the position I wanted and only a few were accepted. I’m one of the chosen few. I still can’t believe they chose me, I didn’t dare hope because I didn’t want to be disappointed. When the letter arrived I opened it with shaking hands and fell to the ground, clutching it close to my heart. They think I’m good enough.
I’ve got the radio playing, but I know it won’t block out the squeak of the doorknob and the heavy fall of footsteps that’ll come from behind. And it won’t block the hands that’ll slip into my shirt. It won’t block the cloying smell of aftershave and the friendly words that burn with acidity as though nothing is going on.
The doorknob emits a paralyzing screech and my entire body goes tense. My heart starts racing. The first thing I sense is the smell. The heavy male aftershave sends danger signals to every capillary in my body. And then, the slow, torturous steps and the breathing behind me.
I’m wearing a high turtleneck, the highest I could find. I’m sitting on the chair and my heart is begging, hoping that the top will be enough to stop him. To stop the terrible hands that do whatever they please to my body. He’s standing tall behind me. And I stare out the window, paralyzed. I can’t move and I can’t say a word.
