He sat, awkwardly, in the taxi and felt her presence beside him. The expanse of seat between them seemed daunting and he didn't have the gall to move closer. She exuded a sense of strength and control and his mind whirled with ideas of asking the driver to pull over.
Looking down towards her feet he noticed a pair of knee-high leather boots. Not stilettos as he might have preferred, but still rather fetching. They suited her. Her boots were flat and resembled riding boots, the leather shiny and well kept. Above the limit of her boots she wore a thick, tight material on her legs and he wondered if she was wearing tights or trousers. Her long coat covered the rest of her, dark in colour and similar to a trench coat. Her bag sat on the seat beside her and he recognised an expensive brand from the small crest hanging from the handle. She wore sunglasses now, despite it being early evening. He could not see her eyes and her face displayed no semblance of thought or emotion at all.
Before too long the cab pulled over beside a line of residential buildings. He had often travelled past this address but hadn't really take much notice of the now, obviously, sumptuous foyer. She stepped out, leaving the door ajar. He looked after her and considered asking the driver to take him on somewhere else. Standing, impatiently, on the kerb-side she lit a cigarette and blew smoke up into the air.
"Are you coming?" She barked, leaning in through the door. "Or... are you going?"
He hesitated again. He could see more of her legs now and she was wearing some tight ski-pant style leggings. She was rather large in stature, but somehow this look suited her. His mind weighed up his options in a nano-second.
She watched him leap from the taxi and turn to the driver, shoving a few notes into his open hand. Would he wait for the change, she wondered. He didn't.
She stamped out her cigarette and strode ahead of him into the foyer of the apartment block. The concierge smiled a courteous greeting as he momentarily looked up from his miniature television screen.
"Good evening, Robert!" She spoke softly.
The young buck followed after her, always a few steps behind as if apprehensive of his fate ahead. She could feel his eyes evaluating her and knew the overcoat would make his efforts difficult. Having reached the lifts she stopped and waited for him, stepping aside slightly and allowing access to the call button.
"Press it!" She instructed him. He did, without thinking, then puzzled why he had done so.
"Good!"
Upon entering the lift she backed into a corner and instructed him, again, to press the button for the 8th Floor. Again, he did as she requested, bewildered by his own compliance. They reached the correct floor smoothly and as the lift opened she dangled a set of keys in front of him.
"If you don't mind!" It was a statement of fact, not a question.
He took the keys from her hand, which he noticed was now encased in a leather glove, and followed after her into to a broad hallway. Only two other doors lined the hallway and he was surprised there weren't more. She moved to the left and again stood aside to allow him access to the door. He struggled with the double lock and could feel the blush of embarrassment rising in his cheeks. She noticed this and responded with a wicked smile. As the door clicked open she stepped forward and filled the doorway.
"Come in!" She instructed.
He followed her into the open plan apartment. He was surprised by its appearance. It was minimal yet stylish, split on different levels, and had a wonderful view out over the river. The items he could see were seemingly simple but he presumed suddenly that they were expensive.
"Take your shoes off!" She snapped at him, throwing her coat over the back of a modern cream leather armchair.
He looked down at the floor and realised it was a lovely wood finish. He wasn't surprised that she wanted him to take his shoes off.
"Drink?" She appeared to ask him.
"Erm... Yes, please.... Whis..." But she had stopped him in his tracks, pointing to a large kitchen area and an array of bottles of various spirits and wine.
"I'll have vodka, there's ice in the fridge!" She directed, lighting another cigarette and moving over to the large expanse of windows.
As he fumbled with glasses, bottles and ice he considered his fate for the umpteenth time. He didn't feel comfortable, but he did. He couldn't understand why he just kept doing what she wanted. That just wasn't him at all. Looking across to her, he caught her silhouette against the glass and tried to muster any sense of attraction for her. She had a presence, he couldn't doubt that, but she was no stunner. He might have trouble getting it up and that would be embarrassing. Perhaps he should just leave.
As if sensing his thoughts she turned on her heels and walked towards the kitchen.
"Having doubts, now, are you?" She quizzed.
He did not reply.
"I saw you, you little fuck! Eyeing up that lovely little blonde barmaid! You should be ashamed of yourself!" She sounded like his mother, or worse, his grand-mother. He felt belittled by her words.
