Don't panic! I haven't stopped writing Saturn Rising. I wanted to take a break and write a piece of pure fantasy and was inspired by the real Brittany to write a fantasy about us. She has been one of my two proof readers, and gave me the okay this morning to post it. I'm so glad she did. Thank you Pickle. We both love you loads.
*****
Inviting
Brittany awoke in the morning and, dragging a hand through her short, dark hair, got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. She was wearing shorts and a tee shirt. As she walked bare footed into the hallway from her bedroom, she saw an envelope on the floor just below her letterbox.
She picked it up and realised there was stiff card inside. A little confused, and assuming it was some sort of promotional material, she nearly threw it in the trash, but then looked and realised that the envelope was hand written in a very neat, cursive script.
Raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow, she slid her finger along the opening and read the card inside. It was on white card, edged in silver. There was an inscription:
"Ms. Brittany Clark is Cordially Invited for CanapΓ©s and Cocktails at Ms. Anna Gibson's Residence on Saturday 11th of May, starting at 7pm. R.S.V.P."
Brittany sort of knew who Anna was. She had moved to New York a few months earlier and was a friend of her mother's. She was some sort of financial person, but she wasn't really clear on the details. Her British accent was opening doors for her, and when they'd crossed paths, Anna had always been courteous, polite and interested in what Brittany was up to.
There was an address and phone number on the card, so Brittany decided to call and ask Anna why she was being invited.
Calling
It was Saturday morning and I awoke, naked as usual, in my bed, the covers slightly dishevelled. I'd had an unusual night of dreams and had obviously been somewhat restless.
I was still feeling a little out of my depth. I'd been in New York for three months with the idea of expanding my accountancy practice but was finding the US financial system to be a lot more complicated than I had ever expected. I had made some good friends, and was seemingly being courted by the great and the good, but that had so far failed to turn into any actual business. My apartment was costing me a fortune, but I was determined to make this work.
I came up with the idea of hosting a party, inviting some of those business contacts and seeing if it led anywhere. I had sent out invites and, on a whim, had sent one out to one of my friends' daughters. Brittany was enchanting and I thought she might bring a more down-to-earth reality to any gathering. I wasn't sure how old she was, but I guessed early twenties. I wanted and needed the event to be different. Not just some regular New York socialite do.
The invites had gone out the day before, and that's probably why I lay in bed thinking about Brittany. She had somehow featured in one of my dreams, and it wasn't exactly what you would call an innocent one.
I recalled how, in my dream world, she had walked into my bedroom, naked, and lay down beside me. Kissing me everywhere, starting at my forehead my nose, my lips, on down to my breasts and on...
The memory started stirrings in me and I let my right hand wander down over my bald mound, delighting in that exposed nakedness that I was still getting used to after having my first ever wax and depilation just before I'd moved here, and which I'd had 'topped up' only two days earlier. I lazily opened my legs and let my finger wander down between my lips and over my clit. I moaned as the feelings ran though me. I felt my pussy already contracting in anticipation of the orgasm I was going to give her. My other hand went to my right breast and I squeezed Pinky tightly and let the feelings link. An image of Brittany sitting naked next to me, watching, came into my mind and this made my finger dance more quickly. I could feel my orgasm building and I let my practiced finger work its magic.
I was on the verge of coming and I cried out, "Oh fuck, Brittany. Fuck," and that pushed me over and I felt a wondrous wave wash through me. My thighs automatically squeezed together, my hips sinking down into the bed, and I kept my hand there, covering and cupping myself as it slowly subsided.
I lay there, collecting my breath and my thoughts when I was disturbed by my cell phone - I would have to get used to calling it that, instead of my 'mobile'.
I sat up, letting the covers fall down and picked it up. I didn't recognise the number, but just answered, "Hello? This is Anna.
"Anna? Hi, it's Brittany... you..."
After my little fantasy, this seemed amazingly coincidental. I stopped her mid-flow. "Brittany! How lovely to hear from you. Did you get my invite?"
"I did. I'm just curious. Why me?"
I was, as always, enchanted by that beautiful New York accent. I smiled inwardly. I was so happy that she had decided to call me.
"Because, my dear Brittany, I want you to be here."
"You do? But... why?"
"Because you are normal. Nobody else around here is. This is just such a fake city. I need normal around me. Does that make any sense?"
There was a pause, and then I realised what the problem was when she said, "Okay, but I have no idea what I would wear."
"Brittany darling, you can come in jeans and a tee shirt as far as I'm concerned. It's you I want..." I realised I might have revealed too much, "...here. Not your clothes."
I was being so blatant. I couldn't believe I was doing this. I am usually the calm, collected type, but my Brittany crush was putting me on autopilot. I had to be a little more careful.
She giggled, a sound that always made me melt, and said, "I don't need to wear clothes?"
The very idea excited me, but I quickly collected my thoughts and, laughing with her said, "No darling. It's not that sort of party. Just something you feel is appropriate."
There was a pause and then she said, "Um.. I don't know. I want to be presentable. I mean the invite looks pretty fancy. It's a bit of an imposition, but is there any way you can help me? Give me some advice?"
I was flattered, of course, and also saw a way I could engineer spending some time with her.
"I would love to help. Why don't you come round to my place sometime and we can go shopping. Or I could come to yours and help you pick something from your wardrobe?"
There was a pause and then I was delighted when she said, "You want to go shopping? I'd love that! I don't have a huge budget but I'd..."
I stopped her. I didn't want to appear patronising, but the thought that I could go clothes shopping with her was just too exciting. "Brittany, forget budget. Let's just go shopping. I need to get something for the night as well. We can try on all sorts of outfits. If nothing else, we can get inspiration. I don't have any real girlfriends in the city, and I would love for us to hang out and just have fun."
I heard another delightful giggle and she said, "I'm your girlfriend now?"
God I can be so gauche at times.
"No, no. I didn't mean it that way," I so did, "I would love to spend some time with you. You surely know the stores to go to far better than I do. Can we?"
I realised I was sounding desperate, and tried to temper it with, "Anytime. No hurry."