This story begins on a Saturday morning inside my flat where I awake with an injured after a heavy night. The air in the room has been thickened by a boozy stench and I lie still on my bed sweat-lined and suffering. I spend ten minutes watching the dust hanging in the sunlight before I fully gain consciousness.
My mouth feels toxic, I grimace at the sharp taste of chemicals. As I tentatively lift my head and clear my eyes I feel the pattern of the pillowcase imprinted up my cheek. Not too sexy yet I know but give me time.
The previous night obviously involved too much booze and I also added a few illegal pills into the mix - to make things more interesting or so I thought. I bounced around the nightclub, confidently talking to everyone and I completely forgot to chat anyone up proper. I remember all sorts of gorgeous girls around me and I remember sitting down with them for great sways of time. Chatting, flirting, a sly touch on someone's arm or leg.
There was many girls out from my place of work and a rare mix of more women than men. Damn it though! I still managed to wake up alone which is probably just as well; what with the way I feel, look and smell right now.
I do think it would be nice to have somebody to cuddle up to on these mornings. Somebody I have known for years who would hug me regardless of my state, somebody whom I could have a cup of tea with right now and who would tenderly pass me the painkillers from the bedside cabinet. But all this becomes a lot of work for my mangled little brain and far too hard even to contemplate right now. Still - I begin to feel little rivers of hormones starting to pulse up and down my limbs each one accompanied by a little flash of memory from the night before. A sparkly skirt perhaps or a dirty smile. Blonde hair over pink bra straps or sleek bare legs resting against my own scruffy jeans. Yet I am here alone and very soon these memories will fade.
Now I was stuck in a quandary. I can hardly move my head for risk of rattling my brain but the little drawer is empty and I need to find some paracetamol or risk being entombed here all morning under my duvet.
I walk to the kitchen and find nothing in the cupboards. However by this time I have persuaded myself to stay up. I will find my way down to Boots in the middle of town and pick up some breakfast on the way back. The walk is not a great distance and it will be good for me. My day is sorted.
I wash and brush my teeth for a long time but neglect to take a shower as this would involve standing in the bath. I put my clothes directly onto my unwashed body and I can still feel the stickiness of the booze. It takes me a while to dress, especially my shoes. So I stink. I feel this will be acceptable as I do not expect to be close to anybody this morning.
Walking into town I find I can keep my head from hurting by maintaining a perfectly upright posture and, although my body is rocking gently from side to side, I begin to feel relaxed. After a few streets I enter into a trance like state like I am controlling a character on the play-station. Navigating my way between the people on the pavement. I quite like the feeling of being alone and dazed in this crowd.
It is in this state I come across a familiar face. I notice her approaching and recognize her from a brief meeting in the back room of the nightclub last night. She had sat down with some of the others in the group I was with. We spoke for a while; or I did. I can't really remember any of the particulars of what she said. She had nice eyes and I commented on them in the throwaway style which can easily be achieved on an E. She also had a lovely body. I do not remember her name.
Awkwardly we reintroduced ourselves. I was buying breakfast and she was shopping. I soon established we were both terribly hungover and on a drugs comedown. A state which always leaves me feeling both desolate and paranoid yet horny as a hound. When I am like this I am always fighting to hold back the barrage of repressed hormones from the previous night. I asked her if we could keep each other company. Could she feel the same way I wondered?
Either way - it turned out to be a very smart move and a chance meeting of such extraordinary luck. I agreed to help her shop and she joked I could be her boyfriend for the morning. You know, stand around like a fool whilst she tried on clothes. I agreed, hoping she hadn't missed any of the subtext of this arrangement.
"I want your serious opinion"
"well I can only really give you a male opinion"
"that's the only opinion I am interested in"
This was fun, we linked arms and made jokes about being over-familiar. We even parodied a little lovers tiff. After a short time I was buoyant and almost forgot about my poor injured head. I was so pleased I had found somebody in such a similar state of mind to my own. It gave me the freedom to act with enormous confidence. I found I could constantly look back at her and feel the same mood reflected back. It was as if she had climbed inside my bubble. If she said goodbye to me at that point I swear I would feel completely bereft. I would probably go home and cry. Luckily I could feel for certain she was also alone this morning and feeling just as fragile as I was. We were both enjoying our little pretense.
We walked into a shopping mall holding arms. I would rub her forearm with my hand, tuck my hand inside her sleeve and she would nudge her head into my shoulder. Lots and lots of touching which just seemed so easy and I could always just mark it down to part of this running joke we had started together.
The crowd was thick in the mall and there was a frantic bustle around us. Mothers and kids, shopping center loiterers, old couples, goths, neds, groups of teens laughing and shouting. We pushed through the crowd oblivious to them all. I wonder how I would introduce this girl to somebody I knew if I were to run into them, it wasn't a pleasant thought. We headed up the escalator towards a shop she had wanted to visit.
On the third floor there was more space to move, the shops around here were either less popular or more specific in nature. The shop she was looking for was nothing but white painted windows and fly-posters and we stopped dead in our tracks.
Our theatrical little pretense faltered for a moment as she encountered this obstacle with a fragment of real emotion.
"Oh god, this is shit, when did it close down, I loved this place."
"Don't worry my darling, we can find something else," I said and she turned to me and we embraced in a mock act of consolation. The closeness was lovely. I swear I could have stayed in that shopping mall all day.
However, in my arms - the body pressed to mine was an almost total stranger and she was beautiful. With thick auburn hair, large eyes, plump red lips, no amount of play-acting could eliminate that bare fact. This woman pressed next to me was spectacularly sexy and as her warmth seeped into mine, my own body was beginning to betray the knowledge of it. I pushed her apart from me - perhaps a little to abruptly.
We continued browsing from shop to shop. At one point I felt her hand in my back pocket and of course a few minutes later my own hand went in to her jean pocket. I did not want her to feel embarrassed, like she had gone too far with me. Of course we had both gone too far. At least in the scope of what should be appropriate between two virtual strangers at that particular time of day. As long of neither of us actually 'said it', it was OK.
At some point we actually went inside a shop; some generic clothing store for women. We browsed for a while at the pinewood shelves filled with folded denim and we both smiled enthusiastically at the assistant just like the lovely couple we were. She glanced back oddly at us both still arm-in-arm and grinning. After finding some jeans we were both led to the changing room. I found a spot near the door and waited.
Fumbling with my feet and pacing in a small circle. After a while I truly felt the role of the partner. A mildly irritated but duty-bound boyfriend biding his time. The dull side of the relationship.
She opened the cubicle door, with her jacket removed, she was wearing the low slung jeans complete with stickers down the sides. She looked radiant, enlivened by the shopping and with a gleaming smile, she stepped out with a swing.
"what d'ya think?"
Trying to thing of a reply I stepped towards her and in a false attempt to steady myself I touched my hand softly on her lower abdomen, on the small valley between her hip and her stomach. Startled she raised her head quickly, looking bemused.
I had planned the touch as a way of measuring her interest. It was meant to be one of a series of small steps, each a little more intimate than the last. She had read things very differently. The touch was far more obvious in its intention than I had designed it. Our vastly different concepts of a subtle seduction was wickedly exposed.
Her eyes had widened trying to read my expression and her body, so soft and warm underneath my fingertips, had now tensed up. For a moment I feared she might recoil, push me away or even slap me but thankfully she inched closer towards me. I was foolish but a lucky fool. I could now tell my gesture was obvious, my fingers were almost on the edge of her underwear and seemed to be pointing expectantly downwards.
She came to kiss me and as soon as our lips touched my horny malaise got the better of me and felt empowered by her response to me. I forgot about the kiss altogether and focused all my attention strait at her knickers only to to be hindered by her tightly buttoned new pair of jeans. With a deep breath she moved to help me and unpinned each button herself, struggling and not helped by my own unwavering desire to push my fingers underneath her. During this this time we had somehow managed to shuffle back inside the cubicle and close and lock the door behind us.
Eventually she pulled down the jeans altogether past her knees. Her pants were white and plain and with my current mood I paid them little regard except to see them removed. Finally I had my hand where I wanted it to be, we kissed each other deeply and messily her back leaning against the mirrored cubicle wall.
As we kissed I moved my fingers slowly inside her, enjoying her expression as I slowly turned them. She slid her hand inside my shirt, I suddenly became very aware of my decision not to have showered this morning, of all mornings. I was feeling so sticky when I woke up. She must certainly have noticed at some point by now and was bound to notice in a second or two.
A knock on the door froze us, we stared at each other our faces breaking into stilted, amused grins as the voice of the shop assistant called in to us.
An 'excuse me...madam' then silence. My fingers were still inside of her and her crisp, unpurchased jeans were now around her ankles. Our eyes firmly locked on each other. She suppressed a giggle. A moment or so passed. I momentary toyed with the idea of ignoring the knock and carrying on but she had already pulled back from me and was re-buttoning herself once more.
"Just a minute."
On leaving the cubicle we received a small lecture from the shop girl, "company policy", "one person per cubicle" and so on. It was without conviction and seemed a little humorless. I was annoyed at the lady at the time, thinking of her as a jobsworth but on reflection she probably did me a favour. I was far too crazed and unthinking at that moment. I was not taking a second too appreciate the wonderful position I had found myself in and generally I had been acting like a moronic horny teenager.
Now though I had some time to collect myself and think about my next move carefully. We once again linked arm to arm as we left to visit some more shops. My new Saturday morning girlfriend and I looked for somewhere new to hide out with our hangovers in the Saturday malaise. We were both full of optimism and my head was feeling better now. My mind was a little clearer and I knew for sure. I definitely needed to take a shower somewhere and fast.