This is Faye writing my own account of when sparrow and I met. You can read either version first, mine or his, I don't think it matters! However, I'm not as confident as he is about my writing, so please be considerate if you comment. Nevertheless I hope you enjoy my side of the story.
So here I was again spending another Christmas alone. Why did I always meet 'bad guys'? They just used me, didn't have anything in common with me - certainly didn't understand that they'd have to share me with my two passions in life: singing and ... well, hard to put into words, but the slightly unusual appetite I had for playing sexy games. Don't get me wrong, they all loved the sexy games I liked to play but didn't kind of 'get it' and play with me, along with me as it were. God, so hard to put into words.
So here I was putting my lace shawl over my bare sparkly shoulders to go to the 'singles party' that I'd found advertised on the Internet! What was it my friends said - "you can't stay in alone at Christmas" - when they'd booked me a ticket. I sprayed on my favourite Marc Jacobs perfume, twirled my ringlet round my finger, adjusted the diamond encrusted headband that I'd decided on, pouted at myself in the mirror and quietly let myself out of my darling little home which I'd named 'Valentine Cottage'.
As I got into the cab I caught sight of the driver's eyes taking in every inch of me and wondered if I had been a bit rash wearing the subtly alluring off the shoulder dress that I'd gazed at in the shop window of the new vintage shop in the back street for so long before venturing in to try it on. It was a one-off, the lady had told me whilst smoothing it over my curves for me, in the secluded little changing booth out the back. She'd marvelled over how lovely my milky breasts looked, very classily oozing over the neckline. I swear she touched them way too much whilst 'helping' but strangely I'd rather enjoyed it.
I'd had to buy it and now wondered if it was maybe a bit too revealing for a singles night, judging by the way the driver wriggled to get comfy in his seat. I'd also taken a massive risk at not wearing any underwear and just rubbing lovely glistening shimmering balm into my bare legs, in order that my polished nails show through my vintage peep toe stilettos. No, I felt very confident and strangely excited - this could be the night that I meet the man that I have always dreamed of, although my friends constantly teased me that 'men' like that didn't exist!
"Are you comfy Faye?" My slightly over friendly cabbie enquired, "Off we go then."
After an all too short journey for my self confidence, we arrived. I left the taxi, knowing that I was being watched so put on my best wiggle. He'd actually been a very cheerful and friendly driver, hence the reason I'd tipped him so generously. I quickly reached the door.
"Name?"
God, why were the doormen so bloody arrogant in these places? "Faye," I replied. (You twat) I didn't add. I sometimes wished I hadn't been brought up to respect everyone. Perhaps the main reason I enjoyed one particular game of mine.
Walking into the bar, I had to steel myself to go any further and almost turned to walk back out into the unseasonably warm evening air. I could see the types of men and women that this arranged evening had attracted - I wouldn't find 'him' in here, my prince, my soul mate. Of that I felt sure ...
However, I had nothing else to do, so put on a dazzling smile, put my best painted toe forward, made my way to the bar and ordered my drink.
--ooo--
I picked up my drink and sashayed around the room smiling coyly at everyone who turned to watch me. I felt a shiver go down my spine and felt sure that someone was looking at the tattoo on my neck when I spun around, however, couldn't see anyone in particular looking my way - what a strange sensation.
I fingered the new necklace that I had found tucked away in a glass cabinet in the small shop where I had bought the dress and shoes, with a slight grin. There was a chain that nestled down in between my shoulder blades, which I guessed had caused the earlier sensation and at the other end an extra long chain which sat very nicely between my breasts and ... Well, how embarrassing that I'd had to have it 'put on' by the gorgeous shop owner with her long painted nails as I wasn't sure what to do with the jewel encrusted clip on the end!
How was I to know that it was a very delicate clitoris clip which held the necklace in place. The owner showed me what would happen if anyone were to lift the chain gently at my neck - who knew my clitoris would pull up and away from it's hood so willingly and what sensations it would send coursing through my body! My nipples were in a permanent state of arousal which only enhanced the way the dress fitted me, in the right light, the stretched material became somewhat transparent, making it very tastefully sexy to the trained eye. And maybe that was the reason some of the women in the room were scowling at me
I was also very aware of the feeling from inside, from within the secret place between the tops of my legs. Clint had made me grow my pubic hair as he liked to pull it roughly during sex and try to plait it and tuck it inside and always made me pull it out each side of my bikini bottoms in the summer causing everyone to stare and point secretly behind my back. So it had felt very liberating when he started working away to get the electric shaver out and buzz it all off. And I couldn't stop touching it and marvelling at the smoothness and how much more comfortable it was.
Not only that, but I tonight wore my sex balls (is it called "wearing" them?) Funny how oddly proud I was at the strength of my pelvic floor muscles, at being able to 'keep them in' just by controlling my muscles! How I loved the way they clinked together and hit my g spot as I moved, sending little delicious ripples up through my body. No-one would ever know, with my butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth little shy pout, just what a sexy little bitch I was.
A hitherto submissive sexy bitch however. But oh God how I wanted that to change ...
I cast out those idle thoughts for the moment. I walked around the throngs of singletons towards the open patio doors, the view to the summer house in the grounds lit beautifully, reminiscent of a fairy garden I once dreamed of. But that's a different story altogether ...
A slight chilly touch to my shoulder made me spin round quicker than I anticipated, almost sending me off balance, causing a slight chink inside - wow, that sensation of ball against ball, vibrating up through my very being. Thank goodness for a railing just in front of me. Lightly holding on I continued my spin to face a beautiful young lady holding a silver tray with a long champagne flute filled to the brim with ice cold, bubbling champagne - condensation already starting to slide in droplets down the outside of the glass.
"For you miss"
"Ooh, thank you," I said, looking quizzically as I accepted the glass. Then, running my finger seductively up to catch the glistening droplet, I expertly took it into my mouth and marvelled at the cool liquid sliding down my throat. Sonia, as the name badge pinned to her pert little bosom indicated, gestured towards the champagne bar and said, "A gentleman sent it over with his compliments."
I looked towards the bar just at the same time that a rowdy group, who had obviously 'clicked' immediately, blocked my view from anyone who might be remotely responsible for sending a drink across to me. Thanking the lovely Sonia, I turned my attention back to the beautiful view out into the garden and wondered how long I could last before I made my excuses and left. It would be my gran, I thought, yes my gran, who needed me urgently and under no circumstance could I stay. It was a mistake to come - I knew that now. Not long to wait. I'd go soon.
Just then, two skimpily clad tipsy girls came past, one with a breast completely out of her top, the other saying "Did you see that fucking hardon? Right down his right leg! I copped a feel as I passed, but he seemed so preoccupied." The other tart cackled.
"Perhaps he's gay! He didn't even look at me, let alone have a grope back, God I'm losing my touch".
I shuddered. God, i'm not surprised, love, I thought - throwing yourself at a man is never a good idea. Surely you know you have to act a little hard to get. Bloody tarts. Good grief, this just wasn't my sort of party. And I hadn't seen anyone who looked remotely interesting to me. I had decided to leave now, to start my little fib about grandma needing me and head for the door and my cab.
But as I looked round for somewhere to put my glass, something made me stop in my tracks. A vision. Someone who looked at me differently - someone who looked right into my very soul, making me feel very unsettled and strangely hot all of a sudden. Maybe it would be worth sticking around after all. Suddenly the stranger lifted his champagne flute and smiled at me. Fuck! I was going nowhere. If nothing else I was curious about this gorgeous hunk of a man who looked at me with such smouldering eyes ...
Wonder if he was anything like the man I had dreamed of since I hit puberty ... my thoughts trailed off into reverie. God, no. Hadn't everyone, all my friends, always said that no such man existed.