by A. P. Butler
“Don’t like his type, Elsbeth.”
“Is there anyone you don’t dislike Ubel?”
“Nope, I don’t discriminate, hate everyone me!”
My imagination flows freely as I dream of quietly removing a pair of scissors from my pocket then delicately cutting the cord to his noise makers. Annoyingly I’m jolted out of this blissfully happy daydream by the train coming to a halt, although it feels more like a crash. It’s accompaniment, the depressing monotone voice of the train driver, as he regurgitates the only speaking part of his duties. “Please mind the doors, move down inside the carriage thank you.” Superseded by an equally dull voice from the platform announcer shouting over the tannoy system, “Please mind the gap, and let passengers off the train first.” The fact people need to be told to let someone off a packed train first is a shameful indictment of failed family values and ignorance to native cultural politeness of days gone by. Days can now be lost in London without ever hearing the words please or thank you being offered, rat race or cesspit I’m not sure.
The destitution in both voices rains down upon me like acid rain upon Portland facade, etching away any ounce of hope. It then occurred to me; I must try and keep more composed when I have these daydreams, on this occasion, I must have been quite obvious as to my thoughts. When I moved forward towards the door, the selfish young man-boy gave me a most disdainful look. For a second I’d the notion to put a clenched fist through his little face, but I had what alcoholics call a moment of clarity.
-1-
The Bakerloo line at Oxford Circus is much busier, thousands of people all scurrying about trying to achieve some mundane task. My connecting tube train noisily pulls into the station and what seems like half of London attempt to get on the carriage, holding my breath I push myself inside. The doors crash shut behind, all while the driver shouts the barely audible command of “Mind the doors.”
This trains much older, lurching forward followed by a series of jolts, as we’re violently shunted into the ever expanding darkness of the Bakerloo line. For the next five minutes, I’m subjected to a collection of ear damaging sounds, grinding metal on metal, accompanied by the deafening orchestra of incompetence and underfunding. A gift from years of industrial terrorism by the trade unions, sighting numerous health and safety concerns as reasoning for strike action, all strangely alleviated by yet another pay rise.
Baker Street station announces itself with a shuddering halt and a collection of scraping metal sounds. Fighting my way off I head up towards the hustle and bustle of a dark and windy Decembers night in London. Next, to the wall I stand, opposite the penny bronze Sherlock Holmes statue, with coat collar pulled high to protect from the bitterness of another cold tempestuous squall. Standing there waiting my thoughts are broken by Ubel as he shouts as loud as he can. “Le house heifer’s here.” Smiling to myself at Ubel’s insensitive comment, while looking up with shaking head only to see the same repulsive bovine creature I’d been forced to sit next to briefly this morning. His face I didn’t see, but being downwind his unforgettable aroma filled my nostrils once again, confirming his identity. Leering at him with disgust, as he waddled off into the distanced, there’s something about him I instinctively don’t like, Ubel’s comment of familiarity is growing ever stronger.
“Sofa sloth’s following us, Elspeth!”
“It is rather coincidental him being here too Elizabeth.”
“Best keep an eye out for chunky, just in case Elsbeth.”
The second hand of my wrist watch sweeps past the twelve as 7:14 pm drops into reality, Laura yet to arrive. Not that I expected her to be on time, she’s trying to create a sense of desire, making me wait for her as if she were a great prize, and to me she is. The city’s alive tonight with a mass of people rushing about themselves, trying to get some late night Christmas shopping done. The lights are in full force along both sides of the road, whipped into a frenzy as the icy winds blasts down the openness of Marylebone Road. Cars standing stagnant upon over congested roads, horns beeping, lights flashing as angry little men try to nudge past each other.
Time itself then stopped, almost as if the elements surrounding me had dissolved away, leaving only one perfect entity, a most spectacular sight standing majestically in stations entrance, Laura had arrived. Like a vision of celestial perfection, she stood there, anxiously looking around, hoping she’s not early, worse still, I wasn’t going to show. A little black knitted beanie hat pulled tightly over brunette brilliance, beautiful multicoloured silk scarf dancing around her pretty neck to the chorus of frosty breath. Gift wrapped in immaculate knee length black overcoat, the front of which adorned by six large shiny buttons, holding the double breasted front closed and tight to her chest. A small figure-hugging belt wraps its way seductively around her tiny waist, pulling tight, so as to extenuate her perfect flowing curves of feminine perfection. Feasting upon her endless beauty for what seems like decades I imagine what wonders lay beneath, then she turns, looking directly at me our eyes entwined in a look of Aphrodite’s.
A small embarrassed smile flashes across her beautiful face followed by a tiny seductive lip bite as she drops her gaze momentarily before seductively bringing it back. From her arm hangs a very expensive Hermes handbag, no longer is she trying to hide her affluence, in complete contrast, now she’s announcing it to all, but especially to me. A simply unmissable message: ‘I’ve very high expectations, play only if you can afford.’ This her message and I her mission! Embracing with wide open and inviting arms, she squeezes tightly as if we were two long lost lovers, finally reunited after decades of searching. Slowly I push the long luxurious hair from her face as gently I kiss her lips, to which she responds warmly.
“God I’ve missed you, hun. You look so beautiful.” Laura’s voice sending shivers of sexual excitement racing through me, as she takes hold of my gloved hand.
“Thank you; you look gorgeous too, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
“Not naughty thoughts I hope.” Again her seduction of words plays with me as she reels me in.
“Well, of course naughty.”
“So where are you taking me?” Her words came with winking eye and naughty intention, almost insinuating I take her there and then, the sexual chemistry between us so intoxicating the winter's wind bites coldly no more. The perpetual hum of combustion and horn dissipating into the distance as the reality of London fades into the romantic, idyllic London of bygone days. “Let’s eat dinner, before each other,” my flirtatiously reply. Still unsure as to my true intentions I can feel her anxiety through leather bound glove, praying this isn’t a honey trap set by fiancé or Parisian lover, attempting to burst her little bubble of adultery, secretly hoping my intentions are true.
Thankfully for me, her self-absorption knows no boundaries, which makes her all too easy to manipulate. Like punching a baby in its tiny little face, I know I can, but I can’t find it within myself to do so. “Come on; I’ve booked a table, it’s not far, we can walk.” Wandering off towards the restaurant, playfully laughing and giggling to each other about how silly the other people around us look as they scurry about getting ready for Christmas. Carrying bags full of items they neither want nor need, celebrating a deity too educated believe in.
“Hope she fucks as good as she looks Elspeth.”
“She’s most alluring Elizabeth; I do hope we can indulge in her tonight.”
“God I want to do stuff that’s illegal in most countries.”
“Ever the charmer Ubel!”
“Lilly, you’ve just given my middle finger a stiffy.”
“How nice Ubel!”
And that was almost the last I heard from Ubel and Lilly all night, so besotted by Laura’s beauty, were they. The silence they now afforded was nearly as welcome and captivating as Laura herself.
-2-
Glass door of restaurant opens with welcoming warmth as the aromatic fragrances from the kitchen below seduce our senses. An attractive young woman smile
s entirely as we enter, politely enquiring the name of our reservation. “Elizabeth & Laura,” my only reply, accompanied by a flash of dilated eye and raised brow towards my Laura. Running lone finger down long list of fictitious names the receptionist finally discovers our booking, before requesting our coats, immediately I take the opportunity to assist Laura.
Her luxurious coat peels sublimely from warm perfection of porcelain skin, my chivalry rewarded by a truly angelic sight. As thick weave of winters protection falls free Laura’s game of seduction reveals itself. Pride, time and pleasure have been her accomplices in this evening's appearance, her attempt to impress more outstanding than any artists eye could ever command. Perfect dark hair cascading around a naturally beautiful face, gorgeous blue-green teal topaz eyes with huge pupils large enough to lose a lifetime of love inside. Encapsulated in a shimmering low-cut silver dress tailored to perfection by a deity especially for her, nature's masterpiece, the perfection of feminine beauty stands before me.
A pretty diamond solitaire pendant drops low, hanging from delicate platinum chain, seducing the eye to follow, rewarding prying eyes with angelic sight. Impossible to but indulge myself in the amorous bouquet of pheromones and perfume that make up a most arousing aroma. Her scent once again confirming she’s access to money, Clive Christian No.1 without a doubt, a truly hypnotic scent, the coup de grace to her astounding beauty.
“Think I’ve Harry Monked Elspeth,” is all I get from Ubel, Lilly quietly exhales a lustful quivering breath of excitement, demonstrating her attraction to the perfection of Laura as she stands before us.
Our coats disappear backwards as we’re waltzed down a luxuriously deep, dark crimson carpeted flight of stairs to the basement restaurant below. Our regal flight rewarded by a magnificent room, a bar of infinite choice immediately in front. The decadence of the amorously decorated, intimate dining room welcomes us. In front, a grandiosely opulent long table kissed by soft, delicate and seductive lighting. Small secluded private dining rooms encompass the perimeter of the main room. Each decorated with luxurious red silk covered walls, a single intimate table, two beautiful wing-backed chairs, upholstered in a flirtatious and succulent dark soft crimson velvet. Delicately lit by a sky of tiny stars twinkling above a single soft wall lamp, caressing the table below. Masterfully we’re shown to our private little dining room, a bottle of 99’ Dom Perignon nestles deep within the cooling ice waters of a silver gilt bucket greeting our arrival.
“Wow this place is beautiful, how did you find it?” Laura’s voice telling of her appreciation to the decadence and romance of London’s best kept little secret that is Gli Amanti’s.
“A very dear friend, who’s no longer with us brought me here once.”
“Well, you’ve certainly gained my admiration and respect Elizabeth.”
The low romantic lighting of our passionate little dining room made Laura look even more beautiful. As constellation of tiny stars twinkled above; I could now see the diamond dust which made up her scent as it danced down her neck and across shoulder. She had me from the moment I removed her coat, feasting upon her beauty, like an addict I just wanted more. She could have made me do anything for her at that moment, I lingered on her every word, my eyes dancing across her, infatuated by her magnificence.
Skilfully the sommelier poured two flute’s of the 99, bidding us an enjoyable evening as he glided away effortlessly as if the devil himself were now assisting our courtship. Laura raised the sensually shaped champagne glass toasting us, moving it seductively to her moist, succulent lips. Lips accentuated by a mesmerising bright red lip-gloss as if painted by the master of colour, Matisse himself. Everything about her tonight exuded perfection.
“A 99 Perignon, wow you really are trying to impress me, Elizabeth.” Seductively she sets her words upon me, with eyes, dilated wide and full, her knowledge of vintage champagnes revealing more of her secret, prosperous life.
“Well, of course, I don’t want to be just your friend Laura.” My words retort to which she blushed slightly, rewarding me with a most radiant and celestial smile whilst our eyes engaging in photonics foreplay.
“Kind of hoping you would, I feel something when we’re together as if I’ve known you for years like you’re my guardian angel.”
“Well, Laura I feel the same, you make me feel like nothing else matter’s.” With raised flute, I enjoy the bubblicious delights of chilled champagne explode in my mouth, then again as it trickles its way down.
Throughout the appetiser and main, we chatted flirtatiously about our desires and passions, not small talk, but neither of us wanting be the first to ask a more probing question. She’s impossible to resist; I find myself completely absorbed by her game of seduction. Trying to resist, attempting to come across as mysterious and alluring, but she knew she had me from the moment I unwrapped her upstairs. Everything Laura did in her preparations for this evening had worked in reeling me in, and she knew it. She was just allowing me to believe I’d control of tonight’s outcome, but we both knew tonight I was her prey.
“So Elizabeth, what’s your story? What were you like as a child?”
Her question raises many an issue, I don’t remember much of my childhood, except what the haunting little girl in my mind tells me. Laura’s intentions are beginning to change; she’s starting to see me as a potential lover, not just an answer to her current situation. This thought arouses me, the effects becoming evident to all, especially my Laura. Now struggling to control wandering eye from enjoying my awakened nipples, proudly pressing against the fabric of my little black dress. No-one has ever made me feel the way Laura does now; I must take a gigantic leap of faith and tell her the truth of my childhood.
“Well, I don’t remember much, I was orphaned, then fostered by an abusive family, that’s all I can tell you. Now and then I get a flash from the darker days, but it’s never very pleasant.”
Eyes widen as porcelain skin turns a ghosted shade of white, colour running from her as the phantoms of yesteryear stroll through her soul. The ghosts behind topaz eyes tell all I need to know, she’s lived a forgotten life too, her abyss as dark and deep as mine. “I was too Elizabeth. Not that I remember much, but I do remember some of the bad times.” Her verbal revelation changes the entire dynamics of our budding courtship, we both share a darker more hideous aspect of our lives, our comprehension entwined. If the chemistry wasn’t already flowing these latest admissions entangle us together, we both now know we’re meant to be, the chemistry and sexual tension floats about like a beautiful miasma of lust, desire, respect and empathy.
“So you can understand, if we don’t talk too much about it then?”
“Yes, Elizabeth I do,” a long and comfortably numb silence engulfs us as we gaze amorously hand in hand into each other's fragilities. Dismissed only by my words of amour as I encourage our courtship to a more physical level. “Let’s not spoil our evening a second longer Laura, kiss me.” Both leaning forward to kiss, not a full passionate French embrace, but a delicate, sensual kiss, the kind of kiss only lovers make, the carnality of our little room’s infectious, now both drawn to each other with animalistic intent. In parting, Laura gives a playful lingering lip bite, her gaze more penetrating and satisfying than any lover of yesterday. If I touched myself now, I'd be consumed by a most wonderful, thunderous eruption engulfing me, and again Laura knew it, she had me standing on the edge of a sexual precipice all night after that, her words like Casanova seduced me entirely.
“Wow.” Is all she or I can say for a few seconds, until Ubel’s voice, like that of child whispering naughty secrets creeps into my mind.
“We need to fuck her Elspeth, Lilly’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Somewhere quiet, she’s been pleasing herself since you took her coat off.”
Unable to stop the conception of radiant smile riding high whilst giggling at Ubel and I’s little conversation, the thought of Lilly being naughty always makes me laugh, usually so dignified, y
et more mischievous than most. “You’re gorgeous when you smile Elizabeth; I’m looking forward to seeing your secret smile.” Flirtations flow as eroticism begins to wrap us tight within her hot, erotic wings of cupidity.
“Love you too hun, looking forward to seeing yours too, but we should finish our meal first. We can have dessert later.” To which we both smile and giggle like silly children.
“So Laura, please tell me why you are here with me, and not at home with the bestower of your, sorry to say, pathetic little engagement ring.”
Laughing out loud in uncontrollable fashion, first head then shoulders flying backwards, her chest proudly pushing forward in all her magnificent glory. Both hands catch cover of mouth as she returns her mischievous gaze to me, dimples growing either side of praying hands as long dark hair cascades around beautiful face. Slowly and seductively her big hypnotic eyes close but for a second, drawing a deep, lingering breath as she drops her hands over mine.
“The truth is Elizabeth; I don’t love him. He’s good looking, has a great body, and a huge you know, but I just don’t love him. He’s got no ambition, happy in his crappy job, and I don’t want a life of ordinary.”
“So is that why you got together with the French man?”
“Kind of yes. He’s not really my type, but he does treat me well. At first, I kinda liked him, but it turns out he’s a bit of an enigma.”
“So are you ready to leave them both behind for just little me?”
“Not sure yet, I’ll tell you in the morning!” Intimate words foxtrot towards me from backdrop of naughty smile and cheeky wink.
“This one needs a fucking good fisting Elspeth.” Ubel’s comment makes me throw myself back, hands star fishing upon virgin cloth of table as I laugh out loud, prompting Laura to ask of my humour. Before my response was ready for delivery, a young male waiter appeared at the gates of our little empire of desire, slicing through the smog of passion surrounding us with an equally tempting offer. “Dessert menu ladies?”
