She,
Carla, and He
Look if it gets weird we'll just pause and have a drink. Or go outside for a change of scene. It's only going to work if we're both enjoying it and we're both thinking of each other.
Shall we have a look at our app then? I can't remember what she looks like..
Oh yeah, let's!
Leaning over the kitchen counter, resting
Her
head in the palms of
Her
hands he is transfixed.
Her
proportions produce the most elegant figure he has ever seen, long legs that cascade from womanly hips and perfectly formed haunches, arching upwards and outwards. The short knitted dress
She
wears frames
Her
curves, generating a surge within him.
Observing
Her
unnoticed he feels the effect of a mysterious and secret chemical reaction taking place between them, a change in his biology that overwhelms him. The primitive feeling is virtually unstoppable and makes him want
Her
more than anything else. In this moment he imagines
Her
, or responds to
Her
, as if
She
is a lioness, the queen of prides and desired by all.
Her
scent brings him and all others to their knees and
She
knows this.
This is his fantasy and of course standing there flicking through
Her
phone
She
is unaware of his silent and imagined exchange. This doesn't mean
She
isn't alive to
Her
own sexuality because
She
is,
She
emanates femininity and it is simply part of
Her
being. Although
She
is conscious of how
She
bewitches men and women it doesn't occupy
Her
thoughts much, this is the way it has always been since feeling
Her
way into adolescence and womanhood.
What do you want to drink?
What are you having?
A cocktail. Pisco sours?
Oh yeah, that sounds good. Have we got enough lime?
Yeah I got a load of limes yesterday. I stocked up on everything.
He watches
Her
stretch to reach the cocktail shaker from a high up cupboard, holding
Her
around the waist so
She
doesn't lose
Her
footing.
She
is elegant, he thinks. Even when
She's
about to topple over.
He lets
Her
go as
She
brings the shaker down to the kitchen counter, and as they flow in movements that have become choreographed by routine and familiarity, they transition into the next sequence of the task.
He collects the ingredients from the fridge and
She
gets the alcohol and ice.
She
likes the feeling of brushing past his body in the closeness of the galley kitchen.
She
feels as if
She
's dancing and that he would catch
Her
if
She
fell. They don't need to speak, the faint touches between their bodies ignite sparks of excitement that flicker through
Her
body, burning from
Her
thighs upwards.
What time's she coming?
8.30.
What should we do? Who's going to answer the door?
I think you should. She'd want to see you first.
OK. But then what? What do we do next?
Have a drink I guess. Small talk, get to know each other a bit.
I wonder what she'll sound like...
What do you mean... Her voice?
Yes, the way she talks, her language. Do you think she'll speak like you and me?
I don't know. It'll be a bit of a surprise if she speaks completely differently.
Mmm...
Then what?
What do you mean?
After a drink and chatting. Then what do we do?
It's OK. We'll take it as it goes. Imagine that we're at a bar.
I know what you feel comfortable with and she knows that too, we were really clear. It doesn't work unless we're both happy, unless we're all happy.
Anyway I think she wants you more!
OK. Where's my drink?
Here. There's no Pisco so I made it with Vodka.
I thought you said you stocked up with everything?
I did. Just not Pisco. But it tastes the same with Vodka, I can't tell the difference.
Mmm... it's really nice.
I love you.
I love you too.
Come here.
They hug.
He forgets how much he enjoys their intimacy, the comfort and care they give each other. It's easy to lose sight of it in the busyness of the day.
She
feels herself melting into his chest.
She
would be happy to merge completely with him at this moment, to become one.
The Pisco Sours are always stronger than they taste.
I know what you mean. But I feel great, it's like taking coke or something!
I never want wine again. Pour me another one of these!
There's a knock at the door.
They look at each other and kind of laugh in synchronisation. They don't know why.
She whispers, Make one for her too!
She
walks to the door.
She
's surprised how confident
She
feels. And surprised that
She
's not more nervous. Still it occurs to
Her
at that moment that
She
has no idea who
She
's about to meet. They've messaged over the app but nothing more. They haven't seen one another apart from in photos and videos.
The door opens and
She
's met by a face that looks familiar. It's not that
She
's met the woman before but she has the face of someone
She
might be friends with. Hair like
Her
own, is thick rich rolling shades of browns and reds and she's about
Her
height.
She smiles, her lips are full and her eyes are big and blue, and intuitively they reach forward and hug one another.
She
leads her into the house giggling excitedly.
Her name is Carla.
Did you find us OK? She
asks.
Yeah it was easy. I've never been here before but it didn't take long.
Carla feels herself stumble into the hallway. The force she felt from
Her
when
She
opened the door was unexpected. It wasn't
Her
beauty, or even sexiness. Of course
She
possesses both in potent quantities. But there is something magnetic about
Her
, like the gravitational pull of a black hole on orbiting planets, which is physically impossible to escape from. And anyhow, Carla doesn't want to escape, she wants to move closer into
Her
orbit.
Carla wonders how old
She
is. Maybe a little older than herself, she guesses. It's not that
She
looks older, she thinks, but
Her
confidence can't belong to someone of her own age.
They move into the living room and out of the narrow hall. It's dimly lit inside with golden light fading up the wall from floor lights.
Carla takes in the artwork, a large painting on the wall, a sculpture propped up in the corner and a black baby grand piano open and waiting to be played. There's a chocolate coloured shag pile rug that reaches far across the wooden floorboards. It's cosy Carla thinks.
Wow... I love your house.
Oh thanks. He's an artist. That's his painting on the wall.
Oh, it's beautiful.
Who plays the piano?
Me.
I wish I could play but I'm 100% musically ungifted!
Is it a hobby or a job?
It's my profession, I'm a pianist. She
replies.
I accompany singers and perform in concerts.
And a businesswoman!
He adds as a side from the kitchen
Oh wow...
Carla cringes inside, she's said "wow" too many times. But she is feeling wowed. She's not very good at anything, she thinks to herself. She did fine at school, university, and even work, but without ever being exceptional.
