Part 1: Kelli Arrives At The Party
The party started at 8pm, but I don't arrive until half past ten. I wasn't sure I would even do this. I planned anyway on returning the very expensive black satin Dolce halter dress I'd bought for the party. This way my husband wouldn't see the $!000 charged to our card. But after putting it on while having a glass of wine, I loved how it felt and even more how I looked in it.
The low cut halter neckline was very revealing and provided a boost to my perfect cleavage that I realized I would have to be careful leaning over to sit down. With the dress as tight as it is, I can only take half steps. Not only does it make my heels sound twice as loud, but it causes my cleavage to bounce a bit to the rhythm of my steps.
But what really took the longest was doing my hair. It took forever to put up and then I didn't like it and had to settle for a more simple style. The important part was to be noticed. By you. The new "young turk" (as Clark calls you) at the office who has been making my husband look bad.
And I cannot stand you for how you've tried flirting with me at recent parties. Always near the end of the evening when you've had a few drinks (and who knows what else). Your comments to others about me behind my back make others laugh and I've also overheard you comparing me to someone (I'm unaware it's Kianna Dior) that is your "favorite actress."
But enough is enough. Clark is away on business and I've leaned you're having a party in your lavish penthouse apartment. I'm going to give you a piece of my mind and put you in your place (at least that is my plan) in front of your guests.
I let myself into your penthouse apartment since no one answered the doo when i knocked. I walk through the foyer and into the main room,... and I have to admit I expected a messy "man cave" but this is impressive.
Part 2: Kelli Gets "Recognized"
I hesitate after a few steps into the large main room, pretending not to notice how many heads turn my way. Any worry I had that one of Clark's colleagues would be at the party and tell my husband about it disappeared when I saw the well dressed crowd are all in their mid 20's to early 30's. There also seems more young males than females, at least from what I see.
But I don't see you among the faces looking at me.
Glancing to the left, I notice three nice looking, clean cut guys sharing what looks like a cigar but smaller and from the smell, it's obviously pot. I'm a little surprised at how open they are about it and how the rest of the guests don't seem to mind.
They notice me looking their way, then begin whispering to each other while stealing glances at me. I can hear little snippets of their hushed conversation:
"...it totally is.."
"...looks just like..."
"...bet Josh has got her..."
When I hear your name mention, I say to them, "Excuse me, are you friends with Josh by chance?"
They all stare at me as if in shock I've spoken to them. One of them manages to ask me if I'm friends with you. I coyly reply, "Not exactly. Have you seen him. I've something to give our host."
"I bet you do," one of them says. This makes them all try not to giggle.
I cannot stand being laughed at and certainly not by these three. To keep my composure, I find myself reaching over and plucking the pot cigar from the fingers of the one holding it. This gets their attention, ending their juvenile chuckling.
Before I even know what I'm doing, I bring the pot cigar up to my valentine glossed lips and inhale the smoke while in elegant poise. I blow the smoke out right in their faces, making them cough.
One of them begins to ask between coughs, "Are you who we think you are?"
I give him back the pot cigar and give my highlighted hair a toss and after a breathless giggle, I look over my shoulder as I walk away and say, "Maybe."
Part 3: Kelli Makes Eye Contact
I walk a little further into the open floor plan living room. I notice how the heads of the young men in the room turn to look at me... as if they are trying to decide if they know me, but I continue to act as if I'm not aware of how I'm being stared at.
Suddenly I feel a bit light headed and the pot cigar puff i had is almost overwhelming. I have to pause mid step and blink my eyes to clear my vision. Just as my eyes clear while I'm poised to resume making y way through the nicely furnished living room....
... I see you across the room looking at me, You're expression seems have admiring and half confused, almost as if you may not be sure its me. We seem to be in a staring contest from across the room. So I keep my poise and give you one of my perfectly practiced bitchy pouts.
And before I can change my poise, your iPhone is up and aimed at me, the flash going off.
Part 4: Kelli and Her Perfectly Practiced Bitchy Pout
I put one hand on my hip and give you my perfectly practiced bitchy pout. Two gestures I always do when about to have to be bitchy to someone. I would feel after the half a dozen or so work and social events when you would wait until near the end of the evening - when you were inebriated, making you more arrogant - when you'd then flirt in a very suggestive way. That's when I had to tell you off, in front of the few remaining guests lingering about.
And I planned to do it again. How much more perfect for it to be in front of your social circle/guests who were all in their early to mid 20's. That's when I really realize I'm the only one in my age group at this party. Maybe this wasn't the best idea and just as I decide to turn around and calmly leave the party, I stop[ when I hear you voice behind me.
"Kelli, is that you?"
The way you ask it, obviously you know it's me with my back to you. Your taunting tone sounds like you're smiling so arrogantly... maybe it's the pot cigar i had taken a big puff from. I felt my original intention to tell you off begin to return, helping me keep my composure.
As I slowly turned around, I had so many snarky comments to say to you... but my mouth felt so dry so suddenly... and as I was completing my turn, over my shoulder I could see you had crossed the living room swiftly.
Just at the same time my mouth swiftly became dry. The only way I will be able to say to you what I want to say without embarrassing myself is if by some miracle out of thin air I would have in my hand a -
Part 5: Kelli Has A Seat
"Drink?" I hear you say.
When I turn around I see you standing close to me and you have two cocktail glasses in your hand, both glasses seem to be the same freshly poured drink. Maybe it's from smoking pot for the first time since college more than 20 years ago, but I feel lightheaded with the way you're standing so close and your smile is not a smirk or smug but charming and I see how handsome you are.
"Handsome," you say with amused surprise. "Coming from the most gorgeous woman here, I'll take that."
I blink. Had I just said that out loud? How much of my thoughts had I been speaking just then? To keep from feeling flustered, I try put some bitchiness to my tone when I reply, "Don't let it go to your head, mister."
"Too late, it's gone to them both," you chuckle.
"Wait... what?" I hate being laughed at. Especially by a male like you.
"Have a seat, sexy," you say with a smirk that makes me wonder if I really saw the true handsome you under the arrogance.
"Fine," I snip back at you. Being a bit bitchy helps bring back my composure, "I'll sit, but not because you called me 'sexy', Joshua."
"It's Josh," the smirk disappears from your smile and when I see a glimmer of an intensity in your eyes that I've never seen before, I look away and move to sit on the sofa behind me. As I do, I'm unaware of the view of my cleavage I provide you and other males in the room looking over at me as rumor has spread that I'm MILF porn star Kianna Dior.
Part 6: Kelli and the Cocktail
Sitting down on the sofa, I'm surprised at your ability to be a gentleman who waits for a lady to sit before he himself does. I'm not going to mention this out loud, but I do find it impressive and it makes me curious about the young man casually taking a seat across from me.
"What shall we drink to?' You ask.
"Well," I reply, keeping my tone slightly snobby, "what are we drinking?" It's certainly not a Cosmo, that I know.
"House special," is your mysterious response. You seem to pick up on my suspicion from the way I look at my glass then yours. The smirk on your face almost daring me to say something. So I do.
"I want yours," I say, my chin tilted defiantly. Without another word, I reach for your drink on the low table between us. You're amused by this, but confidentially take the glass you gave to me first. It makes me feel awkward at how I had thought you would take the opportunity to "spike" my drink. Maybe all of the impressions I've had about you have been wrong?
"To the best dressed surprise guest a host could want," you say quite charmingly while looking me in the eye.
We both raise our glasses and I hesitate just a second to see you drink first before I bring the rim to my lips for a sip.
It's soooo delicious that I don't even realize how my sip turns into another and another. I'm not even aware of how I'm leaning slightly forward as I continue to sip while you have set your drink down and are smiling - not smirking - at how obvious it is I'm enjoying this drink.
(little do i know the reason for your smile: you did spike one of the drinks. but because you perhaps know me better than i'm aware of and you just knew i would be suspicious of you giving me a drink i'd hadn't asked for and how if you played it just right to make me suspicious, i would definitely ask to switch glasses and you were right. which is why you "spiked" your drink with Ecstasy)
"Like it?" You ask even though it's obvious.
