Britt On The Go

"Britt."

Dr Jamieson dropped his laptop. Britt lunged forward and caught it inches from the granite floor.

"Oh thanks," said the red-faced man. "I apologize and wish I could take that back but I know I'm dead. Britt I'm Kingsford."

"I know and knew all the time. I have you photo in my handbag. Are you going to kiss me?"

"Kiss you... but why?"

"Reason one, that's what people do in airport terminals."

"Reason two is I'm also apt to let things slip like you just did so I'm understanding.

"Reason three is I think you appear to be a few notches above your brother who's been called to an emergency involving his supposedly ex-girlfriend Veronica. Will your wife mind if you kiss me and press into me hard enough so you feel my breast squeeze sideways against your chest?"

"What? I have no wife."

"Oooh."

"And since you appear to be nosey, no steady girlfriend at the moment, just a couple who date at the drop of a hat."

"So, with Harry at his supposedly ex-girlfriend's side and you being terribly impressed with me despite that nasty thing you said about me, we are free to kiss like lovers, even if we're not that. Um yet."

The gray eyes looked at her quizzically. And then the kissable lips moved to make way for, "Are you sure?"

"Very sure."

They kissed and it lasted and Britt held his head to stop him breaking away and so the kiss lasted and lasted.

"Wow."

"Best kiss I've ever had from a stranger," she gloated. "Come on, give me your laptop and you grab your trolley.

"My mother says everyone is awed by you and I can see why. There is cuteness, beauty, audacity, big personality and perhaps a sense of adventure, or is it daring, all bundled into one. It's quite sensational."

"Would you like to begin an affair with me?"

"Ah, that's it in one. I should have expected that but didn't because it was too audacious. Could you give me twenty-four hours to answer? I'm tired, at low ebb."

"No I can't. It's now or never. Take a big risk Kingsford."

"I'd be a fool to say no. So it's a big yes."

"That makes you no fool Kingsford. Well here we are."

"You parked here in the VIP area?"

"I gave twenty bucks to that smiling parking warden over there, thrusting my chest forward and asking could he kindly look after my vehicle for ten minutes, the wording chosen careful so that neither the 'tip' nor the request could be construed as a bribe or a request for the granting of an improper parking favor."

"You are incorrigible Britt with an exhilarating sense of fun; you live."

"And having met all of your family I know not to expect a stuffy surgeon."

"I'll work to avoid disappointing you. Ah when can we..." He stopped.

"Do it?"

"Ah yes," Kingsford said, lifting his bags into the trunk.

"Perhaps not for a few days. You have to get to know me, and me you and I have to terminate your brother."

"Um, you mean drop him?"

"Yes. What other meaning could there be?"

They arrived at Kingsford's apartment above shared medical offices.

After he unloaded his bags he said, almost shyly, "Please come on up."

"No naughty boy. If you get your courage up you'll want to fuck me."

Kingsford looked around nervously. "That language is a little strong."

"That's me Kingsford."

"Um, I'll get used to being embarrassed by it."

"You're not that thin-skinned are you?"

"No I meant when you embarrass some of my more conservative friends and acquaintances."

"I can be quite circumspect Kingsford, truly."

"I shouldn't say this Britt, I really shouldn't, but please just be yourself when you are around me or my people, even my parents. I adore you for what you are, I really do. You are so refreshing, making me feel I live surrounded by part-Zombies."

"Oooh, you make me sound interesting."

"And you are. I'm glad we exchanged short versions of our backgrounds on the drive here. I feel I'm beginning to know you, in the way I should. I am so pleased our paths have crossed."

"My too," she said. "I'm looking forward to taking you to bed. I hope I don't get too excited and flood all over you before we really get going."

Britt kissed him soundly and was off, Kingsford waving, mouth open, until he sighed and said, "What the hell was that? Well mom did say Harry was attempting to cope with an amazing young woman."

* * *

Next day Harry, using a lop-sided grin, said, "I'll have to keep Veronica under my wing until she stabilizes but can take care of you on the side."

"Oh I don't wish to put you to that trouble Harry. You can't play a violin with two bows. I'll drop out of the frame. Oh, I think your brother is cute. I might try to screw him."

"Do that and you'll be out of this company on your ass," Harry said darkly.

Britt laughed and tickled him under his chin. "Don't even think about it. Your father would not like to lose me and your mom thinks I'm such a darling and will think I'm so right for your brother – what's his name? – providing I stop my moments of coarseness and my tendency to use foul language. That would be three against you Harry, think about it."

"I think that's bullshit and Kingsford has his reputation to think about."

"Come on Harry, don't be a sore loser. Really you are the person who needs to polish up his act. You think lowbrow much too often and think negatively like trying to get rid of me just because I dropped you. Grow up Harry."

Late afternoon Kingsford called. "Dad wants me to go to his club with a partner this evening. It's their formal Wednesday night they have once a month with guests and a professional speaker. Would you kindly accept my invitation to accompany me?"

"Did everyone else turn you down?"

"I haven't asked anyone else," Kingsford said, sounding quite indignant. "I only want to be there with you. Have you dumped Harry?"

"Yes."

"Did he make threats?"

"No."

"Well that's a surprise. He's a poor loser."

"Yes and I told him that."

"So he did threaten you."

"God Kingsford, how can I lie to you if you're this sharp? He said it could cost me my job. It told him to get lost."

"I'll talk to mom and dad about that threat."

"No please don't; it's unnecessary. My feeling is Harry is a little afraid of me."

"Me too."

"Excuse me?"

"Just a little."

"Well I suppose just a little okay. That puts me on par with Debra."

"I should have known you'd figure out that. Has she asked you to call her Debra?"

"Yes, why?"

"She rarely does that to much younger women. My mother is difficult to predict."

"Watch the behavior and listen to girls aged from around seven to fifteen Kingsford. You'll learn things quickly because they're off-guard. Understand them and you'll understand older females much better. We'll not all that complex. It has a lot to do with ritualism aimed at keeping males ill at ease. Not many females would even identify it as ritualism. We learn what our mothers teach us."

"God, that's deep."

"Oh if you want deep, you'll get deep honey. A pillow under my ass and my legs hanging over your shoulders... oh, sorry. We don't really know one another yet, do we?

Kingsford released a big sigh. "No, but it's happening fast as I'm hit by one shock after another."

"Give me the time and place and I'll meet you there. It's time to impress your mother and friends."

"Is customary for women to wear gowns on formal night."

"That's okay, I have mom's old dress-up gowns from years ago."

"Britt, I don't..."

"Hush honey, I can be such a tease."

* * *

The Banrock Club president, Finnegan O'Connor, head of Bartholomew Bank had risen and was about to welcome everyone including the guest speaker when he looked over to the entrance and smiled.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm delaying my greetings to everyone for a minute to welcome a rising new personality in our city, the delightful Miss Brittany Wade who happens to be doing an amazing job for our bank in demonstrating what customer loyalty is all about, and that's old-fashion values topped by going that extra yard in service. Britt began her promotional campaign for us with a TV film clip now simply known as the Farmer Brown Pig Ad. Many of you will have seen it."

People began applauding.

Britt walked towards him and said, "Thank you for such a grand welcome Finnegan. Oooh isn't this a swanky venue. If I'd known I would have dressed up."

Everyone laughed, women standing to get a better look at Britt who wore a white silk gathered gown with a halter neck and finishing just above her ankles. She wore six-inch see-through battery-powered heels with embedded flashing red lights. Flowers were woven into her piled-up hair. She looked stunning.

"Where will you be sitting dear," said the president, taking her arm.

"The James J. Jamieson table please. My date tonight is James and Debra's eldest son, Dr Kingsford Jamieson."

Pushed and prodded by his mom, Kingsford stood.

"Oooh, there he is. Kingsford has just returned from a high-powered medical convention in Switzerland."

Everyone clapped and as the president returned to the rostrum Debra kissed Britt and giggled, "I've been coming to these nights for fifteen years and have seen grand entrances by everyone including some drama queens but you eclipsed them all by being so beautiful and remaining so laid back. Britt kissed James and then Kingston and sat down and whispered introductions were made to the other two couples at that table. While the wine waiter filled Britt's glass she leaned into Kingston and pushed a stray part of his blond fringe into place, causing his watchful mom to slowly shake her head in wonder.

During dinner the president came over to Britt and whispered to her and she nodded. As coffee was being served he announced, "We sometimes have a warm-up speaker at this stage but none had been arranged for this evening but I've hit on Britt Wade who had consented graciously to say a few words."

Britt said, "I worked in London, Liverpool, Paris and Monte Carlo doing a monologue routine I had built up following my experiences in amateur theater but it's too saucy to perform here. I mention it to explain why I had no shame in arriving late in an endeavor to attempt to impress my date's mother. I hadn't expected Finnegan to slap the spotlight on me so when he asked me to speak, how could I refuse? I'll speak about two blondes, real people."

"I'll never be as famous in this city as my mother was. I'm the daughter of Mandy Wade, one of the loveliest women I've ever met and my dad is Simon but known as Slim. They have suffered a severe commercial setback, losing their TV station. That's okay, they have good investments providing a good income but there's one thing that niggles me. My parents who remain members of this club stopped coming to the club because my mom felt she was being cold-shouldered by some members because of their business failure. My mother as a former beauty queen became almost an institution in this city, leading fund-raising campaigns that raised enormous amounts for charities and special projects. My father was famous long after he retired as a star quarterback. I know my mom exaggerates – goodness that's one of her quirks I picked up and her ability to tease. But this is serious. My mom hurts, feeling she's being spurned by some of the woman in this city and had felt she was less than welcome at this club. Dad being dad couldn't care a hoot and probably doesn't know about how mom feels about this. I'd just like to make this appeal – ladies, could you do something to drag mom back here and make her feel welcome? Older member will know that mom and her fund-raising group twenty-three years ago raised the $80,000 required to buy this site to allow this club to move from its old flood-threatened location. She'd be appalled to learn that I talked to you like this. But then I always was a big mouth. Like mom I guess."

"Well, my other blond story is much more cheerful, I think. I go back to the Farmer Brown TV film clip and newspaper and magazine ad. I remember visiting Brown's Farm when I was in the fourth grade I think it was. Farmer Brown looked old then, and toothless and when thinking about a character to feature in my ad I called him and asked would he feature in my ad for Bartholomew Bank. He said we should talk about it. I went out and drank weak coffee and told him about my concept. He said he'd have to talk it over with mom, meaning his wife, who was over the back of the farm picking berries. He asked me to return next day. I found him on his hands and knees attempting to unblock a pipe. His hand was too big to get in so I said let me try. Nah you won't want to do that, he said. The pipe drains pig shit. I just shoved my arm in up to the elbow, grabbed a wad of cotton and out came a flood of stinking goo. I almost threw up. But I grinned. He said, he was going to say no but I had the guts to do that so he ought to have the guts to appear on TV."

"Now I wanted a blonde from the bank to feature in the ad and as you can guess there were plenty of them. The first two almost threw up at the mention of pig shit so I said to the HR manager did she have a blonde from off a farm. She found one, Miranda, a shy young thing. She agreed to act the role providing I coached her on her lines. It went very well and I've earned a lot of credit for that ad."

"But that's not the end of that story. I went into my branch in the head office building one day and saw people grouped around Miranda. I was called over as I'm known there as the Pig Farm Ad Lady. I was delighted to find that that filmmaking experience and being congratulated by her friends who saw the ad and that recognition had given Miranda a huge burst of confidence. When I saw her that day Miranda was being congratulated by colleagues for being promoted as a personal manager. My personal manager moved upstairs on promotion and today Miranda is my personal manager. It was lovely seeing that shy blonde young woman make such a career leap because people took an interest in her. I repeat, because people took an interest in her. There's a crafty message in me talking to you about two blondes isn't there? Thank you for listening."

The president thanked Britt to huge applause. He said, "Elsie, as vice-president I'm sure you know what to do about this. I'm deeply ashamed knowing Mandy always was one of the liveliest and most active members of this club. Thank you Britt, You were inspirational in a most unexpected way."

As Britt reached her seat Debra rose, eyes wet and hugged Britt and said, "Darling I'm so proud of you, so pleased to hear you publicly acknowledge you mother as a fine woman. I'll make sure as an ex-president's wife of this club I'm on the deputation that will visit her."

"Thank you Debra. That's lovely of you. I take it you're not angry I've switched sons?"

"No darling, you are where you are best-suited."

Kingsford drove Britt home, straight to his apartment. As they got out of the car he said, "This is all right, isn't it?"

"Oh, you want to fuck me darling?"

"I...um... yes, yes please."

"Oh what a lovely polite man you are. Of course you can fuck me."

As Kingsford approached Britt in the lounge she giggled and said, "What – no surgical gloves and disinfectant?"

He winced, said nothing and continued his advance and grabbing her roughly slapped his mouth on to hers and grunted, "You are such a teasing bitch."

"Oooh, you like me," Britt cooed, forcing her tongue hard to open Kingsford's mouth. He allowed access and sighed as her tongue attempted to strangle his. When they slipped back into conventional kissing she felt down for his erection and said happily, "That's sufficient foreplay. Fuck me on the table."

"Table?"

Britt slipped out of her dress and climbed on to the table and turned and said, "Honey, drop your pants and pull down my panties and then it's all your show."

Kingsford interpreted correctly that he wasn't to waste time and as the head of his dick spread Britt's pussy lips wide and it slipped in, they both sighed and smiled at one another.

"Take your time darling," Britt cooed. "I want to remember this occasion."

They went at it again later, on the bed, and agreed they were made to be together like that and the kisses were long and sweet and the sex was way beyond good, and yet when Kingsford awoke later all that was left of her was a note saying, 'Thanks. Great Evening but the best bit was coming back here and being with you. You're a lovely guy'.

Kingsford yawned, rested the note over his eyes and bridged by his nose and went back to sleep.

* * *

Britt and her team replaced a regular Bartholomew Bank ad booked for that evening on prime time and produced a replacement full-page version for next morning's newspaper. Approved by the bank's marketing department the ad showed a smiling young woman.

"Hi, I'm Britt Wade your ex-weather girl from the now defunct TV Station ZEE-TV announcing that I now work in advertising. I'm permitted to use my irreverent creativeness in doing such things as producing ads for good old Bartho Bank. There's talk our Farmer Brown ad for Batho's will win my agency an award. Well who cares? What worries me is Bartholomew Bank doesn't have the respect it deserves after serving this community for 187 years. Watch tomorrow night during the 6 o'clock TV news and at that time on any other local stations for my latest attempt to groom Bartho Bank's image. Thank you for watching this and please be lovely to your children. If you don't have children love your neighbor's but I'm not advocating adultery."

Next morning Gloria defended Britt's decision at the morning meeting to run that ad.

"The approach is novel; it will work, I know it will," Gloria said.

There was criticism and Britt was invited to answer it.

"Nah, let's get on with something else."

The admin officer took an urgent call. She grinned. "Our switchboard is running to capacity. Ninety percent of the callers want to know what time is Bartho's Ad scheduled tonight and some of them want to know what the ad is about."

"Everyone looked at Britt to comment but she just shrugged.

Harry who was chairing the meeting said, "Yes Britt, what is the ad about?"

"About Old Mrs Arnold being interviewed by me. It runs for 90 seconds."

"Oh that will be hilarious," Harry said sarcastically. "Right let's move on."

After the meeting Harry said to Gloria, "This ad you guys are keeping under wraps. What's it like?"

"Sensational."

"Are you for real?"

"Watch it tonight at 6:07 darling and tell me if you don't have a genius in your midst."

The ad, run for the first time, showed two people in a TV studio setting.

"Good evening everyone, Britt Wade reporting on behalf of Bartholomew Bank. My guest is Mrs Lucy Arnold. Mrs Arnold, you're eighty-one and reputed to be the richest female in Banrock City. Here's an irrelevant question: You sit on the board of Bartholomew Bank. What made you become a customer of the bank?"

"My father a share-farmer opened an account for me seventy-one years ago. I never had a reason to bank anywhere else and then came the Great Flood of 1959."

"Oh and what was so special about that?"

"It drowned my young husband and covered our newly purchased low-lying farm with silt. I was ruined as there was no life or property insurance. But the city council decided to immediately build a stop bank to protect the city and as our farm was on the edge of the city limits the stop bank would protect our farm. I went to Bartho Bank with a scheme to re-grass and re-fence and re-stock my 400-acre farm, seeking a loan of $83,000 and that was a lot of money for someone without a cent. They investigated my scheme and investigated me and found our Arnold family had been with the bank since it opened, now 187 years ago. So I was given a bank loan of $90,000, the extra money being to restore my house and keep myself in food until I had a productive farm again. Over the years I sold off land, repaid loans and today the Banrock City Mall, Banrock University, Stadium City and Banrock Interstate Truck Freight Clearing Center sit on my former farm."