Sunday, 11 September 2011
Have you met these people? A short comedy
by A J Burton
Copyright A J Burton and Quintessence Publications Ltd 2011
All rights reserved.
I am not one of those women who goes for a man purely on looks. Women like that are shallow and usually boring. For a man to be attractive to me, he must be a snazzy dresser as well. Intelligence is desirable, even attainable by some men, but hardly a necessity for a good relationship. Fabien was late which is somewhat of a turnoff. I just hoped he would be a suitable dinner guest. He looked great wearing a polo sweater, tan slacks and suede hush puppies in the pic he emailed me. But photos can be massaged or photo-shopped so easily these days. So I wait with a rather lacklustre white wine in my hand for him to make an appearance.
Dammit I was late! I hate that. I am never late but tonight I was. I had decided to add a few highlights to my hair before my date with Diana. The dye went so wrong that I was forced to run a quick sachet of Grecian Gold through my hair to salvage what I could. Thank goodness I have a face which can pull off such a cock-up.
I got to the restaurant seven minutes late and then had to wait another two until the maître de noticed me and opened the door. Sophie's is only a four star restaurant, one can’t expect everything from them. I didn't pick the restaurant, Diana did. Surely a fashion consultant would have better taste, was my thought regarding her choice. But I didn't want to upset her by disagreeing when she suggested Sophie’s for our rendezvous. I hate picky people.
I recognised him as soon as he walked in. He wasn’t exactly like I remembered from his photo. The one he posted on the dating website. However he was presentable in a bland grey suit which was two years out of style. I thought it a little strange for a man who was a male model to be wearing such an old suit. I waved and he smiled. He looked surprised - as if he wasn't quite expecting someone so glamorous, but I often have that effect on people.
I saw an overdressed heavily made up woman wave delicately at me. Is that Diana? I wondered. Her photograph on the dating website must be rather old. But guess what? it was Diana. I began to understand why she had picked Sophie's. I walked over to her table slowly so she could get a good look at me. I didn't swagger like you do on the catwalk, no need. Just my natural walk had her staring like a deer in the headlights.
"Diana?" I asked
"Yes of course. Nice to meet you." she smiled prettily and offered her hand to me. I shook it, smiling to myself wondering about the thrill from my touch she was receiving.
"Charmed to meet you. I am so sorry I’m late, my hair.” I had to pat it a little. “Hair is such an important thing, don’t you think?” she put her hand to her hair delicately and smiled knowingly.
“Well I needn't go there, bore you with the details. Advantage of being a male model I suppose. I think I managed to rescue the situation." I said modestly, smiling at her. "Is that dress new?"
"Why yes it is.” She was quite pretty when she smiled. “From Style Eighty Seven, their latest from the spring collection. Very exclusive, but I felt like spoiling myself for tonight."
"Was it on sale?" I asked casually as I sat down and waved at the waiter.
"No, why did you say that?" she looked shocked.
" No particular reason, at this time of the year most of the clothing shops are flogging off what hasn't moved during the winter. Would you like a drink?" I asked.
"Yes I would rather, this white is rather too dry for me. I can't think why I ordered it." She said, pushing the glass away from her as if it were disgusting.
"Well selecting the correct wine is something you need to practise.” I said gently. I do know a lot about good wines. “Do you eat here often?" I asked.
"Well yes, I mean no, just occasionally." she said.
"How about I order something? Waiter! Ah he's seen me." I noticed the waiter making a beeline for my table. " What is your best white?" I asked him.
"I recommend the Marlborough Stonefield, a really exquisite wine." He said subserviently.
"Very well, two glasses please." I could see Diana was impressed, she was trying to speak raising her hand while I was talking.
"Um Fabien...I" she interjected.
"Just a minute Diana, I’ll deal with the waiter first if you don't mind. Bring the wine in tall long stemmed glasses, lightly frosted if it's not too much trouble?"
"Yes sir." he said before scurrying off like waiters do when they think they will get a big tip.
"Now Diana why don't you tell me something about yourself and I will tell you something about me. Ladies first don't you think? After all, you already know I am a male model."
"Yes, but - I just wanted to say something about the wine you ordered."
"I am sure the wine will be fine. I have an eye for good wine and for beautiful women." I smiled at her.
"Why thank you, Fabien, I am flattered but there's no need to -"
"Oh Diana you cracked a joke. I like a good sense of humour. Comes in handy in the modelling business being able to laugh at other people."
"Did I? Crack a joke I mean?" she looked confused.
"And witty with it I see. Look the wine's here. An improvement, don't you think? Thank you waiter." I said as he filled our glasses.
"Fabien - about the wine." Goodness how she did go on about the wine!
"Mine's good it has sort of an earthy taste about it, rich, but not too sweet." I said as I tasted it.
"It's the same wine I ordered Fabien." She said complainingly.
"Is it? are you sure?" I was surprised. She said her wine was ghastly stuff!
"Yes I ordered the Marlborough Stonefield as well."
"Oh, you must have had a bad bottle. It happens sometimes."
"But it's a house wine it should be all the same." She was still complaining, obviously a picky drinker.
"Let's not go there shall we Diana? It's not altogether your fault. Now what made you seek someone on a dating site?" I thought I should distract her from this wine issue.
"Just for laughs, really. It's not like I need to go on dating sites to get a date. It's the sign of the times you know. Busy, busy, busy no time. I work long hours. That kind of thing." She simpered at me.
"Yes I see. Me too, actually. Modelling keeps me so busy. Online dating is sort of like slumming really - yourself excluded of course." I had to pat my hair again.
"Thank you." We smiled at each other. It had been two years since we first began chatting online. I wanted to make the best of our first meeting. I could see I was a hit with her. Being good looking is not all it’s cracked up to be.
"Well that takes care of the small talk. Shall we eat?" I asked. I could see the poor girl was out of her league. Time to change tack, a nice meal will settle her nerves, I told myself.
"Fine, shall we get the waiter again?" she asked.
"Yes of course, Waiter? excuse me waiter? - I don't think he heard me Diana." The fellow was on the far side of the room.
"Maybe he is ignoring you because you never tipped him?" she asked pointedly. My how she notices little things!
"Maybe he is just hard of hearing – ahem! waiter!" I waved in his direction.
Finally the waiter came over to our table. Fabien insisted on ordering for me. I tried to tell him I don't like seafood because of allergy problems but he did insist. We did the usual small talk. I like friendly chit-chat, he kept mentioning he was a male model as we talked and ate. I could tell he was totally into me, his eyes undressed me whenever he thought I wasn't looking. I was practically driving him insane with passion. No doubt it was my fabulous low cut dress, my hair, my exquisite eyes, my body sculpted by my personal trainer. I knew he wanted me. I had been there so many times before but - I can’t keep breaking hearts forever. Perhaps Fabien is the one to settle down with?
It was inevitable that she would suggest we sleep together. Diana wasn't very subtle the way she licked her lips after every mouthful of food. She swallowed sexily after she chewed. I pretended not to notice the way she fluttered her eyelashes but I wasn't deceived by her muted conversation and constant reminders about the bloody awful house wine.
This was all to mask her insatiable desire to have me. The seduction of course was a fait accompli but I went along, played the game.
We went to her place for coffee and a digestive biscuit. She took off her high heeled boots, said her feet were killing her. I just smiled, I suppose I was going to be a trophy screw. Something to tell the girls about over coffee or at the salon. Try to make all her friends jealous. You know, telling them all what a fantastic lover I was. She knew I was a male model, wouldn't let me forget it. I could see she wanted me so badly that all I had to do was crook my finger and she was mine.
I let him kiss me as we sat together on the sofa. Fabien didn't even finish his coffee before he was all over me. It felt like he had four pairs of hands. I helped him off with his jacket. He seemed nervous for some reason and wouldn't take off his shirt. I suggested we go to the bedroom, my two-seater wasn't made for the kind of passion we intended to have. I know we have been chatting online for some time - but he must have been without sex for months, or even years. I had to calm him down, the poor man was almost frantic with desire for me. Fabien followed me into the bedroom like an eager puppy. He was practically pole vaulting down the hallway behind me. I lay on the bed and delicately struck a sexy pose. He whimpered with desire, I could see I needn't have bothered with the pose. Fabien was so eager - his cock, what there was of it, left me in no doubt what he wanted. He wanted me, I felt so gorgeous, a femme fatale.
She gave me the c'mon look from the moment she sat down beside me with her coffee and digestive biscuit. Diana attempted to act like a delicate virgin, but really I could see she was the type that needed a bit of rough sex. I suppose, like most women, she thought all male models are sex mad stallions. She was only half right. Diana ran down the hallway like an Olympic sprinter to her bedroom. She collapsed onto the bed with her legs wide apart. I was shocked, she had bigger legs than I’d thought. I needed to take my shirt off but there was a problem. Sometimes even male models have secrets they don't much like sharing.
"Fabien, take your shirt off!” she demanded “I am not going to make love with you in your shirt and socks. I have standards." she said her words stinging like a whip across my back.
"I need a hand with something." I remained dignified, hiding my pain.
"What with? your cock looks hard enough." her words stung me like a slap on the face.
"This." I opened my shirt, bared my soul to her.
"You wear a corset?" she may as well have plunged a dagger into my heart.
"I am not the only model who wears one, you know. I have a metabolism problem. I need you to undo the back." I said, turning around as she got off the bed.
"Well it's no big deal you know, I've taken mine off." she said, rubbing salt into my wound. "I haven't seen one like this for years. How did you get it on in the first place?"
"My mother does it up." I remained stoic.
"There that's got it. Oh! you have quite a tummy Fabien.” She exclaimed. “I had a gastric band fitted last year, it did wonders for me." For the first time I noticed how big she really was. Had she bewitched me at the restaurant? Again Diana lay on the bed and opened her legs. Her thighs quivered like jelly. Several jellies. I lay on top of her and kissed her long and hard. She reached up - I tried to warn her but she was too quick for me as her long fingers massaged my neck.
"Oooh! Fabien your hair fell off." She exclaimed, panting. Did her malice know, no bounds?
"Careful! it's my only one." I remained calm, thankful that my stomach hid my partial hernia. My doctor assured me sex was still an option if I was careful what position I took.
"It's alright, bald men are quite sexy anyway." she said wheezing like a bloated retriever. She threw the toupee on top of her dressing table like it was some sort of dishrag. "Any more surprises?" she asked.
Thank God I had used the dental adhesive on my dentures! I noticed she had removed her top set and placed them beside the bed. Had she no dignity? What kind of fashion buyer was she? I asked myself.
"Fabien." she pleaded "I want you to take me standing up like James Caan did to his girlfriend in ‘The Godfather’."
I realised then I had been seduced by an expert. How else could she tell I was no ordinary lover? Taking my Viagra pill while she hunted for her door key in her handbag earlier had been a master stroke. I now hoped I would not end up having a turn as the drug coursed through my veins. My heart pounded but I was determined. I would pick her up with her thighs around me and pound her powerfully into the wall. The wall looked strong. I hoped it was!
She stood in front of the window, placed her hands behind her on the window sill and wrapped her legs around my waist. I felt I was being seduced by a gigantic Polish milkmaid. Her legs crushed me. I thrust into her like the rampant stallion she wanted me to be. We slowly slid down the wall as my legs buckled under the terrible weight.
"Ooooooph." she groaned in the throes of ecstasy. I showed her no mercy, thrusting powerfully. However I was careful not to exert myself too much as I felt my hernia give a twinge. I felt something soft and furry against me. Something wasn't right. I looked at her askance.
"You're not in Fabien. It's our bellies! You're simply not long enough!" her words were stones thrown at my soul.
Damn her but she was right! I had been pounding her enormous belly button, compressing the lint inside it. She must have enough to knit a sock in there, I thought. I was ready to give up, take my pride, my corset, my toupee and retreat with what dignity I could muster.
"Fabien stop!” Diana demanded. “I will open the window, then I can sit on the sill, that way you don't need to support me. You can still do me standing up. Look!" She lifted the wooden window upwards. There was a groaning sound as the window complained, peeling paint off as she pushed it upwards. I looked up. It reminded me of a guillotine.
She sat down on the window sill, her legs spread wide apart. A cool breeze whipped the lacy curtains around her hair. I decided if she wanted to be screwed by a rampant stallion I would give her her wish. I charged between her legs and our bodies slapped together. She wrapped her legs around my back and, clasping her fingers behind the back of my head she pulled me into her. Diana cried out in what I mistook for orgasmic delight. In fact her big bottom had slipped outside the widow sill and she began to fall backwards. At that moment the old window chose to release. It came sliding down, striking me a stunning blow on the back of the neck. The force was so great I fell forward and lost my grip on Diana. She fell screaming into an open dumpster on the road below. The window shut fast over my hips and I lay trapped. My partial hernia decided to become rather less partial and I was left screaming for help, unable to get the hell out of there. I cursed James Caan and all the cast of The Godfather for getting me into this mess. What will mother say?
Things would have been ok if the dumpster had been full of soft rubbish bags but it was full of old bricks from the building site opposite.
The local newspapers were most uncomplimentary. ' Obese lovers fall from window.' said one. 'Window unable to hold rampant fatties.' said another. Turned out Diana was a total fraud. She was a former Wallmart checkout operator on a disability pension.
The loss to me was immense. I lost my one and only contract modelling supersize incontinence nappies. The life of a male model is not all it's cracked up to be.
I did learn one thing; because of my unrealised athletic ability I am now applying for jobs as a stunt man and body double. Perhaps Hollywood will recognise my amazing skills?