other, absorbing the sensation of release.
When the phone rings, I nearly jump out of my skin, dropping both the duster and the vibrator to the floor with a clatter.
“Hello?”
“Hey Tara, its Patty. Just got off the phone with Mr. Galloway. He’s agreed to meet you this afternoon at four.”
“So, where do I go?” I ask, now nearly convinced that this is the right move to make. I can’t spend the rest of my life fucking my cleaning supplies after all.
*-*-*-*-*
We walk into O’Malley’s just about 5 minutes to 4:00 P.M ., and I’m glad Patty came with me. I’m as skittish as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs when we sit in the booth and order two Red Bull and Vodkas. I think my teeth are chattering. Just a little something to take the edge off , I think to myself as the waitress sits our cocktails down on the polished table. Patty told me to wear the sexiest dress I owned, so I took the less is more avenue again and am wearing a total of four pieces of clothing, and that includes counting each shoe separately. That’s right, do the math, with sagging triple D’s, you can bet it isn’t the bra that’s missing. Finally after a long gulp of vodka, “So tell me about Jonathon.”
Suddenly a light bulb goes on in Patty’s eyes, like the lighting of a Christmas tree, “Oh Tara, wait till you meet him! You know, I’ve always thought Simmons has pretty eyes, but Jonathon? His eyes will transport you. Have you ever met one of those people who you just sense is an Angel of some kind? He’s scrumptious I tell you. Perfection.”
“Agh, you know me,” I say sipping more vodka, “I associate with people via their flaws. You associate via their good qualities. That’s what’s made us balance all these years.”
Patty looks past my head and grins as I feel a presence beside me. I glance up and my eyes take him in all at once, feeling my knees weaken. This time I recognize him immediately and I smile involuntarily. It’s ‘mid-life crisis’ man, standing tall as the Freedom Tower and smelling as clean as a cucumber sandwich. Okay, I’m not going to say I’m not melting. Oh, I’m melting in a big, big way. Vagina is speechless, which she hasn’t been in a few days now.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” he says as he moves in front of our booth.
Patty stands up and plants a very sensual kiss on his lips that’s almost embarrassing to watch. No one said there’d be kissing. But as his eyes turn to mine I sink to the bottom of a crystal blue Mediterranean ocean.
“So… this must be Tara. The pleasure, my dear, is all mine,” he smiles as he leans over to kiss me on the neck.” Goose bumps begin to rise all over my pantiless body and I know instantly that I belong to this man. At least I very much want to belong to him. His voice rumbles near my ear and sends both Vagina and her twin clinging to each other in desperation.
When he looks at me I feel like I’m home. Not my dated blue Corian countertop kind of home, but something exclusive, luxurious, pampered. A home where I am seen for the truths that are welling up inside me, the truth that means without a doubt that my ‘Goody Two Shoes’ are on their way to the Salvation Army.
I know I’m blushing. “Mr. Galloway,” I nod and slip further back into the dark leather booth, a tad humiliated by the schoolgirl squeakishness of my voice. The light in the pub is dim, even for this time of day. The old Irish feel of the atmosphere adds to the masculinity that oozes here. Instantly I know I’m out of my element on so many levels. It’s that awkward moment when you know you should absolutely run for the hills but for some reason you just want to stay and see how it pans out. This man is the reason I want to stay. He’s tall, as I mentioned, and as manicured as the White House lawn. Gray hair tickles the tips of his ears and small hints of the same peek from the
When the phone rings, I nearly jump out of my skin, dropping both the duster and the vibrator to the floor with a clatter.
“Hello?”
“Hey Tara, its Patty. Just got off the phone with Mr. Galloway. He’s agreed to meet you this afternoon at four.”
“So, where do I go?” I ask, now nearly convinced that this is the right move to make. I can’t spend the rest of my life fucking my cleaning supplies after all.
*-*-*-*-*
We walk into O’Malley’s just about 5 minutes to 4:00 P.M ., and I’m glad Patty came with me. I’m as skittish as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs when we sit in the booth and order two Red Bull and Vodkas. I think my teeth are chattering. Just a little something to take the edge off , I think to myself as the waitress sits our cocktails down on the polished table. Patty told me to wear the sexiest dress I owned, so I took the less is more avenue again and am wearing a total of four pieces of clothing, and that includes counting each shoe separately. That’s right, do the math, with sagging triple D’s, you can bet it isn’t the bra that’s missing. Finally after a long gulp of vodka, “So tell me about Jonathon.”
Suddenly a light bulb goes on in Patty’s eyes, like the lighting of a Christmas tree, “Oh Tara, wait till you meet him! You know, I’ve always thought Simmons has pretty eyes, but Jonathon? His eyes will transport you. Have you ever met one of those people who you just sense is an Angel of some kind? He’s scrumptious I tell you. Perfection.”
“Agh, you know me,” I say sipping more vodka, “I associate with people via their flaws. You associate via their good qualities. That’s what’s made us balance all these years.”
Patty looks past my head and grins as I feel a presence beside me. I glance up and my eyes take him in all at once, feeling my knees weaken. This time I recognize him immediately and I smile involuntarily. It’s ‘mid-life crisis’ man, standing tall as the Freedom Tower and smelling as clean as a cucumber sandwich. Okay, I’m not going to say I’m not melting. Oh, I’m melting in a big, big way. Vagina is speechless, which she hasn’t been in a few days now.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” he says as he moves in front of our booth.
Patty stands up and plants a very sensual kiss on his lips that’s almost embarrassing to watch. No one said there’d be kissing. But as his eyes turn to mine I sink to the bottom of a crystal blue Mediterranean ocean.
“So… this must be Tara. The pleasure, my dear, is all mine,” he smiles as he leans over to kiss me on the neck.” Goose bumps begin to rise all over my pantiless body and I know instantly that I belong to this man. At least I very much want to belong to him. His voice rumbles near my ear and sends both Vagina and her twin clinging to each other in desperation.
When he looks at me I feel like I’m home. Not my dated blue Corian countertop kind of home, but something exclusive, luxurious, pampered. A home where I am seen for the truths that are welling up inside me, the truth that means without a doubt that my ‘Goody Two Shoes’ are on their way to the Salvation Army.
I know I’m blushing. “Mr. Galloway,” I nod and slip further back into the dark leather booth, a tad humiliated by the schoolgirl squeakishness of my voice. The light in the pub is dim, even for this time of day. The old Irish feel of the atmosphere adds to the masculinity that oozes here. Instantly I know I’m out of my element on so many levels. It’s that awkward moment when you know you should absolutely run for the hills but for some reason you just want to stay and see how it pans out. This man is the reason I want to stay. He’s tall, as I mentioned, and as manicured as the White House lawn. Gray hair tickles the tips of his ears and small hints of the same peek from the
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