Monday, October 31, 2005

Graeme Jamieson ~ Gin and Bitter Lemon

So there we were; me sitting in a Balsa-wood and brown leather-lined booth, her with a black round-rimmed tray held with the ball of her palm and her fingertips against her hips, standing right in front me with my Gin & Bitter Lemon like the Goddess of Beauty and Love with clear, freshly-tanned skin and shiny pouted lips.

I’ll withhold her name, but for me, she’s a Venus alright. I was too tight to even glance away from her eyes, despite the urge-upon-urge I had to look o'er her torso, even ever-so pronto. But her eyes, her eyes are the thing for me. Plus, I was lucky enough to know quite well the contours of her frontal curvature, for the night before I'd nuzzled up to within a hairsbreadth of her ample cleavage, to gently intone, “When can I get you on your own?”

"You're a bad man!"

"Wait until I get you alone."

I wasn't trying to impress, even though she’s just 22 - at an educated guess - but it’s all there, and I can't stop imagining her undressed with her Mermaiden hair licking to where the under-wire would be if her breasts weren't bare. Her shoulders -complemented by a spectacular and spiralling tattoo - are slightly rotund, and I’d be a rich man if I started a fund for the guys who spent a moment Edisonin' her up-and-down from behind, because the overall shape of her back is so well-defined.

Her bottom: simply divine. Her sixth scent I would write Braille about if I were blind - but I’m not - so hear me out when I say it’s hotter than the flames which once burnt terra firma on Tierra del Fuego. Not forgetting her face, which was the starter-pistol signalling this race. Again, it’s kind of round, with a slight crook on the bridge of her beak that someday I’ll get around to star-crossing with my cheek.

And what an accent... a soft North-west American drawl. I can’t pick-up all she says, but it’s the way that she says that gets me. “Graeme,” announced she, pronouncing her 'a’s' more succinctly than her 'e’s',

“that thing you asked me last night… are we still on for that?"

“You're damn right!”

"Okay, what about Sunday? Are you free?"

"Yes in-deed." And with that, I pulled out a stoogie. "Have you eh, have you got a light?"

Graeme Jamieson

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