me.
“ Brian! ”
“ Tina! ”
“ Stop! ”
8
Kate clutches onto the pillow, burrowing her head in it deeply, but the muffled sound of raucous laugher still emits from it. Giddy and uncontrollable, she lifts her head with
tears rolling down her face. “Oh, Brian!” she mimics. “I’m going . . . to . . . be . . . sss . . .”
Once more she collapses onto the bed, snorting, improvising kissing then vomiting, pretending to wipe her mouth and come back for more, her tongue dancing around foolishly. “No, really,
I’m okay,” she mimes. “Don’t stop now!” Her hips thrust back and forward. “What? Oh, yeah, I’d better brush my teeth!” She’s off again, into
peals of uncontrollable laughter.
How many times do we have to go through this tonight? I wish I’d never told her now, although I certainly wouldn’t be able to share this with anyone else, especially not Chantelle
given how often I preach to her about not mixing business with pleasure.
“It’s not funny, Kate.” I wince, holding my head in shame. “Right in the throes of passion. How the hell am I ever going to look him in the eye again?”
Kate makes an attempt to be serious for a moment, although in an oversized pair of pink flannelette pyjamas with a Snoopy design it’s really not possible. “Look, why don’t you
just blame him for plying you with drink – tell him you’re not used to drinking that much?”
“I was okay until I lay down, but then the room started to spin. That hasn’t happened to me in years.” I shake my head, groaning. “I ruined his rug, Kate!”
“ Pphwwwrrr! ” Kate is off again, rolling around the bed, beating down on the duvet wildly and gasping for breath. She surfaces. “Just tell him you thought a souvenir of
you might be nice!”
“Oh what a wonderful idea! The next time he sees carrots he’s going to think of me? Any more intelligent suggestions?”
I really can see no end to this situation, nor the funny side of it, particularly after such a romantic meal followed by the promise of the most spectacular orgasm in years.
Brian was as gentlemanly as usual. He apologised profusely, taking full responsibility for the episode. He, naturally, thought I was calling out his name in lust, hence he didn’t move off
me. I have to admit, it was rather nice to hear him call my name back. “ Tina! Tina!” Hhmm . . . I tried my best not to make him feel stupid but he seemed to take it quite hard.
Or maybe he was more gutted about his Conran rug then he was prepared to let on.
“Why don’t you just call him, Tina. He’s rung you three times already and you’re giving out all the wrong signals by ignoring him.”
“I can’t, Kate. I haven’t got a bloody clue what to say apart from ‘Can I buy you a new rug which incidentally I can’t afford!”
Kate tops up our glasses with red wine and tips the remains of the crisp packet into the glass bowl, placing it in the centre of the king-size bed. Fat lot of use this bed has been to me.
It’s an investment with a nil return.
I am also feeling guilty for ruining Kate’s evening. We haven’t had a girls’ night out in ages as Kate works on location so frequently, but I simply couldn’t face it
tonight. Plus my eyes look like they haven’t seen sleep in weeks and my body is shaking, although a little less after our hair-of-the-dog exercise. Kate’s suggestion, of course.
“Tina, are you happy with estate agency?” Kate asks bluntly.
“Yeah, it’s the best achievement of my life, Kate,” I answer without hesitation. “Why do you ask?”
“I dunno really. Maybe it’s because you keep quizzing me about work and you’ve talked about your old acting career more than once in the past half hour.” Kate shoves a
handful of crisps into her mouth, attempting to talk at the same time. “I haven’t heard you mention it in years.” She chokes deservedly. “Why now?”
That’s what I love about Kate, her willingness to
“ Brian! ”
“ Tina! ”
“ Stop! ”
8
Kate clutches onto the pillow, burrowing her head in it deeply, but the muffled sound of raucous laugher still emits from it. Giddy and uncontrollable, she lifts her head with
tears rolling down her face. “Oh, Brian!” she mimics. “I’m going . . . to . . . be . . . sss . . .”
Once more she collapses onto the bed, snorting, improvising kissing then vomiting, pretending to wipe her mouth and come back for more, her tongue dancing around foolishly. “No, really,
I’m okay,” she mimes. “Don’t stop now!” Her hips thrust back and forward. “What? Oh, yeah, I’d better brush my teeth!” She’s off again, into
peals of uncontrollable laughter.
How many times do we have to go through this tonight? I wish I’d never told her now, although I certainly wouldn’t be able to share this with anyone else, especially not Chantelle
given how often I preach to her about not mixing business with pleasure.
“It’s not funny, Kate.” I wince, holding my head in shame. “Right in the throes of passion. How the hell am I ever going to look him in the eye again?”
Kate makes an attempt to be serious for a moment, although in an oversized pair of pink flannelette pyjamas with a Snoopy design it’s really not possible. “Look, why don’t you
just blame him for plying you with drink – tell him you’re not used to drinking that much?”
“I was okay until I lay down, but then the room started to spin. That hasn’t happened to me in years.” I shake my head, groaning. “I ruined his rug, Kate!”
“ Pphwwwrrr! ” Kate is off again, rolling around the bed, beating down on the duvet wildly and gasping for breath. She surfaces. “Just tell him you thought a souvenir of
you might be nice!”
“Oh what a wonderful idea! The next time he sees carrots he’s going to think of me? Any more intelligent suggestions?”
I really can see no end to this situation, nor the funny side of it, particularly after such a romantic meal followed by the promise of the most spectacular orgasm in years.
Brian was as gentlemanly as usual. He apologised profusely, taking full responsibility for the episode. He, naturally, thought I was calling out his name in lust, hence he didn’t move off
me. I have to admit, it was rather nice to hear him call my name back. “ Tina! Tina!” Hhmm . . . I tried my best not to make him feel stupid but he seemed to take it quite hard.
Or maybe he was more gutted about his Conran rug then he was prepared to let on.
“Why don’t you just call him, Tina. He’s rung you three times already and you’re giving out all the wrong signals by ignoring him.”
“I can’t, Kate. I haven’t got a bloody clue what to say apart from ‘Can I buy you a new rug which incidentally I can’t afford!”
Kate tops up our glasses with red wine and tips the remains of the crisp packet into the glass bowl, placing it in the centre of the king-size bed. Fat lot of use this bed has been to me.
It’s an investment with a nil return.
I am also feeling guilty for ruining Kate’s evening. We haven’t had a girls’ night out in ages as Kate works on location so frequently, but I simply couldn’t face it
tonight. Plus my eyes look like they haven’t seen sleep in weeks and my body is shaking, although a little less after our hair-of-the-dog exercise. Kate’s suggestion, of course.
“Tina, are you happy with estate agency?” Kate asks bluntly.
“Yeah, it’s the best achievement of my life, Kate,” I answer without hesitation. “Why do you ask?”
“I dunno really. Maybe it’s because you keep quizzing me about work and you’ve talked about your old acting career more than once in the past half hour.” Kate shoves a
handful of crisps into her mouth, attempting to talk at the same time. “I haven’t heard you mention it in years.” She chokes deservedly. “Why now?”
That’s what I love about Kate, her willingness to
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