Friday at Seven

Chapter 1

     Hi, I'm Kareena Ross.  My friends call me Kar, as in 'car', then often make 'vroom, vroom' noises saying 'Hello'.  Ironic, 'cos I don't own a car, but I do drive.
     I have a dream job at a large software firm, which I adore.
     All good, but I don't have my 'Mr. Right', my dream man.  I have tried and tried.  'Not hard enough' I'm told.  Well, that's going to change!  From today I'm going to give it my all and risk everything to search for 'my' Mr. Right.
     I used to scream, "I give up!", "I'm a strong, modern woman and I don't need a man!" I know, I know that's my denial lie.  Yep, I want to curl up beside the man I love, feel his strong, sensual touch on my body, his hot breath on my neck, and his two day old stubble on my shoulder.
     "Bugger!" I curse softly, setting down my coffee mug, and watch the drips from the corner of my keyboard form a puddle on my desk.  I've done this several times recently, especially when I loose myself in my daydreams.  I scrunch up several tissues, mop up the mess and ditch the sodden clump to the bottom of my bin with a thump.
     A work colleague glances up curiously from her desk - all open plan here - no doors, walls or boundaries.  I dismiss her with tight lips and a sharp look.  Instantly she ducks out of sight below her desk barrier.  I smirk inside.
     Initially, I blamed myself for being alone.  Little things, like 'I talk too much.  Guys don't like that.'  Then, 'I think too much.  Smart girls don't get laid.'  After that everything becomes a reason;  'I'm too tall.  Too pretty.  Not pretty enough.  My boobs are too flat.  My arse is too large.  My hair isn't blonde enough, even though I'm natural.'  After a while one forgets the reasons and just accepts the inevitable - 'That no man finds me attractive.  Not now.  Not ever.'
     Recently, I started a journal, an olde-worlde paper journal.  You know - real paper.  And, it feels weird to write down my thoughts with a pen.  But, this has got me to thinking - 'What's the point of working so hard at work, achieving so much, when I'm really sad on the inside?  Huh?  Where's the sense in that?'
     Hence, my pact:  'From this day forth, I will do what it takes, try anything, to get my man.'  The man I'm so desperate to call my own.  Preferably, a hot hunk with a sexy, spine-tingling, delicious body, who will see me, for me.  Who will love me and take care of me.  Accept me for who I am.  And, most importantly of all, a man to hold me close and never let me go.
     Well, a girl's got to have a dream!
     It won't be easy.  I'll have to learn to throw caution to the wind and take bigger risks.  My heart pounds.  I'm scared to death.  Excited too.
     I scroll through my first dating website.  I spy a blonde, athletic type with the most brilliant blue, sparkling eyes, named Michael G. Gale.  Can't wait to meet him!  A sharp, quiver shoots down my spine as I scroll through his online dating profile, skimming through his details for the nth time.  'Reserved.  Shy around women.  Likes the arts; culture in general.  Passionate about architecture, especially old stone buildings.'
     The 'before' me, pre-pact, smells a rat.  A con.  Do I care?  No!  I must be willing to try anything, risk everything, in pursuit of my love!  I push aside my suspicions and fears.  Tonight, Mr. Michael G. Gale is going to be mine.  I read on.
     He's twenty six.  Two years older than me.  Good.  I like older men.  They know how to please.  My smug smile smears across my face, and I sip my now, cold coffee.  I will embrace my growing sense of fate!
     Using a little hacking skill I obtain his withheld date of birth from the website.  Is Michael paranoid?  Does he have something to hide?  I push my negative thoughts away again, and stare at the the screen.  5th of August.  Generally I tend to steer clear of Leos from past experience.  Some good, some bad, though mostly disappointing.
     "You're desperate, Kareena," I murmur to myself.  I gasp, then send my details to him.
     A chime rings from my computer.  It's an instant message from Michael.
     "Dinner after work?"
     In an attack of courage I answer.  "Sure.  Why not?"
     "Nothing fancy.  Casual.  I know this little restaurant.  Game?"
     I sigh, close to delirious.  "Love too."
     "Terrific."

♦   ♦   ♦
     Five o'clock arrives in a flash.  It's Friday.  Anything is possible.  For a moment, I dare to dream of a wild, passion-filled weekend.  Just Michael and me.
     My phone rings.  It's Michael.  The sound of his deep, husky voice makes me go weak at the knees.
     "Just checking you're good for 7 pm?  Sharp."
     My lips tremble.  Intense images grip my mind - naked on his bed.  Silky white sheets caress my back and buttocks.  His large, manly hands, hold me tight.  He pushes inside my sweaty thighs and thrusts himself deep within me.  An insane, strangled moan, escapes me.
     "Kareena?  Are you there?"
     "Yes."  My voice falters.  "Seven sharp."  The heavenly image in my mind flickers, pauses, then vanishes.  "Don't worry.  I'll be there, Michael."
     "Great.  Can't wait.  See you soon, Kareena."
     My phone goes silent.  In my head, his husky voice keeps saying my name, echoing round and round with promise.  Woo!
     On my way home from work I check out the location of the restaurant.  It turns out to be just a short walk from my home.  In fact, just around the corner.  Strange, or what, 'cos I didn't know it was there!
     At home I slip off my work shoes and drop my clothes to the floor by my bed.  I lightly prance in front of my wardrobe mirrors in my underwear, imagining Michael is standing beside me, admiring me.  He draws me close then kisses me.  His agile fingers lightly unclasp my bra.  His hungry eyes penetrate mine and my boobs tingle from his gentle caress.  Then, in a firmer grip, he pinches my nipples, letting me know he's in charge.  Tears well up in my eyes from this mixture of pain, delight and surprise.  His hands descend.  I moan lowly as he massages me boldly.  Naked, on the bed, he enters me with long, slow, deep, thrusts.  Each one inescapable, inevitable - my arms outstretched above my head, held firmly in his powerful clasp.  His hairy chest courses like sandpaper, while he runs his hot, moist tongue over my neck.  I wince from a tremendous thrust, then feel him explode, deep within me.
     "Oh God!" I scream in rapture.
     I open my eyes and remove my vibrator.  I shower, do my makeup and fix my hair.  It's six o'clock and I have less than an hour to get dressed and arrive at the restaurant.
     What do I wear?  A dress, of course.  Something short and sexy, to show off my legs.  But what sort of dress?  Casual upscale?  I don't want him to think I'm too aloof.  Nor do I want him to think I'm cheap and easy, either.
     After much yes, no, yes, noing I decide upon my skimpy, barely there, lilac affair.  High hem, so full leg sex appeal.  I do my nails in fast drying lilac to match the dress.  Then I put on my new, never worn, silver strap high-heels and silver shoulder bag.  Yes.  It all looks great together.
     A miracle - I'm done by 6.55 p.m.  I throw one last, quick glance at the mirror.  This woman is stunning, confident, sexy and vibrant.
     With a smile on my lips and a spring in my step, I burst out of my one bedroom, corner apartment and onto the sidewalk, confident tonight will be the night everything changes.
     At the crossing, I pause for a moment and catch a breath.  Across the road, I walk on at a brisk pace, thinking back over my short life.  How fast my 24 years has gone.  The numerous dates I've been on - too many to admit to.  Then the failed relationships.  All the pain I've suffered.
     Yet, tonight, it all feels very different - like fate is walking alongside of me.

♦   ♦   ♦
     The street outside the restaurant bustles with people seated in jovial conversation.  A few stand, looking rather uncomfortable, waiting for a table perhaps, or someone to arrive.
     A husky voice calls out to me through all this noisy chatter, "Kareena?"
     I turn sharply to face a well dressed, confident, hunk of a man, with bright blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, looking directly at me.  "Michael?"
     He nods a disarming smile.  My heart turns to jelly on the spot.  This has never happened to me before.
     Michael, a true gentleman, takes me by the hand and leads me inside to a quaint little table by the window, marked 'Reserved'.  I feel lost for words.
     Michael smiles and kindly gestures me to sit.
     "Are you cold Kareena?" he asks, glancing at his jacket.
     "No.  I'm fine thanks," I murmur meekly.
     "I hope you don't mind me asking, Kareena, what is it you do?"
     "Do?" I query nervously, desperately trying not to shake.
     He blushes lightly.  I cringe, feeling his discomfort.
     "Your job?" he adds softly.
     His words are almost lost in the background noise of the bustling restaurant.
     "I work in software."  I tense all over and wait for the shock and disappointment to show on his face.  This is the very moment men give up on me!  The moment they realise I'm too hard or not dumb enough.
     I wait.  There is no disgust on his face.  To my utter surprise, Michael looks at me with his big, disarming eyes, in a 'loveable puppy' mode.
     I'm tempted to say something, but hold my tongue for fear of breaking the moment.
     "It's alright to be nervous, Kareena," he murmurs warmly, reaching across the table to hold my hand.  "I'm normally very shy around women.  But you're different, Kareena."
     I'm a little doubtful, and I show it.  "You're too nice, Michael."
     The tingling in my hand ceases as he retracts his hand to his side of the table.  'Damn it, Kareena!  Now look what you've done.  Keep your damn mouth shut!'  I curse in thought and become I'm instantly sad.
     "I didn't mean to say that, Michael.  I'm sorry."  I glance longingly at his hand.  "It felt nice.  Do it again."  He hesitates.  "Please."
     With a smile his hand returns.  "I can be really shy, Kareena.  I don't mean to be."
     His smile broadens to confidence as I smile with him.
     "You're fine, Michael."
     "How can you be so sure?"
     "I just know."
     "Woman's intuition?"
     "Something like that."
     Michael nods slowly in approval.  Something about the way he does this makes me burst out in laughter.  He joins in, and together we laugh our hearts out.
     Oh!  I am falling for him!
     As our conversation continues, it is clear Michael is a man of taste.  And, I love his cologne.  And, I love how he is subtle, yet manly and strong.  He has definite overtones of refinement, but reserved, or just out of reach, or cloaked.  I sense mystery.
     "I've told you so much about myself.  Now, it's only fair you tell me something about you."
     He smiles back at me cheekily.  "What do you want to know?"
     "Everything.  Like what do you do?"
     "Nothing interesting, that's for sure.  Not like software.  I'm afraid my job is rather stuffy and boring."
     "Go on," I press, looking eager.
     "Well there's nothing much to say actually.  I work in finance.  Investment actually - for a bank.  I work with figures all day long.  That's it."
     He snaps his fingers for service and orders for us both - Chicken Grand-Mére with a side order of organic salad and the house white.  I prompt him to continue.  As he does so, I sense an underlying reluctance in his tone.  I get the feeling there is something about him he wishes to keep secret.
     "You didn't explain what you did in your job, Kareena."
     I cringe.  "It doesn't matter," I shrug awkwardly, then hurriedly take another mouthful of this delicious salad.
     He pauses halfway through his mouthful and looks at me sternly, as if to chide.  "Of course it matters.  I want to know everything about you."
     "You do?"
     "Of course.  I like you, Kareena."  His bottom lip quivers ever so slightly.
     "Alright.  But only if you promise not to walk out on me."
     "I could never walk out on you.  Not you, Kareena."
     My heart skips a beat.  "Promise?"
     "I promise."
     The lump in the back of my throat eases.  I lower my eyelids.  "I'm a software engineer, Michael.  I design and make things out of computer code."  I reopen my eyes in time to see the shock dissipating from his face.  He pushes back in his chair, swallows deeply and clears his throat.
     "Well?" I ask.
     "Wow.  You're really an engineer, Kareena?"
     I can hardly believe my ears.  "Are you surprised?"
     "No," he smirks.  "Why would I be?"
     "You really don't mind?"
     "Of course not.  Why should I mind?"
     I shrug, casting my eyes down into my lap.  "I don't know."
     "Kareena.  Look at me."  Reluctantly, I raise my gaze.  "You're a smart, beautiful, successful girl.  And I'd be a complete fool to let you go, or think less of you."
     I decide to leave my darker thoughts unsaid.  After this, there is no going back.  His charm sweeps me off my feet.  By dinner's end I am completely caught in his intoxicating spell.
     As we stand to leave, he asks, "Would you like to dance?"  His manly gaze admires my legs.  Secretly thrilled, I pretend not to notice.
     "I'd love too, Michael."
     "Lovely.  A friend of mine runs a little nightclub not far from here.  Are you up for it?"
     "Sure."  I wobble a little on my feet, tipsy from too much wine.  In fine gentlemanly style, Michael steadies me by wrapping his arm around my waist.
     We leave the crowded restaurant for the quiet of the footpath.  By now it is dark, punctuated only by the haze of the overhead street lamps.  Side by side, we walk in slow tranquility, sublime in each other's new found company, towards the nightclub.


Chapter 2

     Michael squeezes my waist.  "Are you alright, Kareena?  You're not too cold, are you?"
     "No, I'm not cold Michael.  Thanks."  I don't tell him how excited I am.
     We stop by a narrow alleyway.  "You're very beautiful, Kareena."  I blush heavily, feeling my cheeks warm with blood.  It's hard for me to believe.  I pull a slight look of disbelief.  "No, honestly," he affirms, lightly running his fingertip beneath my jawline.  "You're very beautiful.  A real, sensual woman.  You're intoxicating."  To my ears, his voice sounds like a purr.  "I'm the luckiest man alive tonight."
     I part my lips to speak.  Nothing happens.  All my words are choked.  His lips hover before mine.  His eyes searching mine.  My heart pounds as I'm tempted to kiss him.  But the moment passes.
     "Come on.  We don't want to miss the fun, now do we?" he chuckles, nudging me.
     I'm struck that he likes me.  At last, a real man, not a boy, likes me, and, thinks I'm beautiful!  Beautiful!
     We approach 'Charlie's' nightclub.  The name is written in blue cursive above the entrance.  A short, bald, pit-ball like character, dressed all in black, is the front door bouncer.  The hairs on the back of my neck standup.  I look to Michael for security.
     "Don't be frightened Kareena," he whispers softly in my ear, "Tom looks mean, but he's really quite sweet, once you get to know him."
     Tom opens the door and winks approvingly at me.  Inside, it's dim with steep, narrow steps leading down to the belly of this underground world.  Another, much sturdier door opens onto a nuclear explosion of strobing lights, exploding bass and heaving bodies in chaotic motion.  An overwhelming scene.  Yet enticing.
     Michael and I weave round the crowded dance floor.  Lots of pretty girls with beaming smiles whip their flesh around, in their latest skimpy threads.  Their smiles turn to disdain as I walk by.  I think to myself 'So I'm overdressed?' but reason 'Yeah, and who's got the handsome hunk?'  I walk on in a confident strut.
     Overhead, powerful strobes flash bolts of lightening as the music intensifies.  All sense of the outside world disappears.
     "This way!" Michael trumpets, pointing his outstretched arm towards the central bar.  The strobes double time as does the bass beat, and I immediately sense an undercurrent of anarchy.
     The chaos is left behind as Michael spirits me to his private nook; a small cluster of bright, candy yellow, semi-circular, padded, high-backed, lounges and matching table.  I sit down beside him and wonder how many other 'beautiful' girls have sat here before me, eager and willing to surrender themselves unreservedly to this delicious man.
     "Is it vibrant enough for you, Kareena?" he smirks slyly.
     I indicate 'yes', then discover Michael's intense blue eyes staring quizzically right through me.  Electricity zaps between us, just as the music abruptly triples its beats.  I wonder what Michael is thinking.  What he wants from me.  And, whether I will be able to give it to him.
     Few men have managed to excite me so much by doing so little.  But never have I ever thought I might be in love!  Is this real?
     So wrapped in my excitement I don't notice my eyelids droop shut, or, my hands clasp upon my chest.
     "Kareena!  Kareena, are you alright?"  Michael shouts in concern.
     Startled, I fling open my eyes.  "It's nothing.  Really.  I'm absolutely fine."
     He frowns a doubtful query.
     "I was just thinking," I explain, noting the relief on his face with some measure of amusement.  My next thought, is to get sozzled, dance our legs off, and then...
     Our first drink is a Gin and tonic, and we don't waste time downing it.  On the crowded dance floor, the beat is frantic, energising, and thoroughly fulfilling.  I feel wonderful, so light on my toes that I can do anything.
     As we dance our bodies repeatedly fling into complete strangers, and, we hardly ever make contact.
     I can barely contain my disappointment.  Several tracks later we retire to Michael's table, hot, sweaty, and breathless.  Michael orders Vodka shots and challenges me to a dual.  In quick succession we down three or four shots each, flirting and laughing more heartily after each one.
     We find ourselves on the dance floor again, our bodies entwined and pulsating to the intimacy of the music.  The mix of his hot sweat and cologne drives me crazy with desire.
     Michael steers me back to our lounge, and I sense a different atmosphere this time.  He, smooches up to me, and his hot breath spills over my right shoulder.  Our eyes meet.  I blink my eyelids, then look away, trying to gain control as deep inside I feel myself shudder.
     His moist, tender lips gently caress my neck.  Oh, and it feels so fabulous.  Then his hot, moist hand firmly caresses my thigh.  My heart is about to explode.
     I am torn.  I don't want to be discarded come the morning.  Yet, I want to let go.  To loose myself entirely with him.  To satisfy my passionate ache.  To make wild, wonderful love to the man of my dreams, and all night long.  I want to live life.  Live it to the fullest.  To hold nothing back.  To let go of my nagging doubts, of cheapening myself through meaningless sex.
     What am I to do?  How far is Michael willing to go?  Is it just possible he actually might have genuine feelings for me?  God knows I've done that mistake many times before.  I want a man that loves me; the real me.  Not for what I look like.  Not for how good I am in bed.
     A squeeze on my thigh, breaks my ponderings and sends a rush of adrenaline through my body.  I suck my breath in sharply, and look at Michael for answers.
     "Trust me, Kareena," he says in a dry, husky voice.  "No one cares what we get up to in here."  His frankness puts me at ease, yet I still tense with anticipation.  "Really?"
     "Yes, really."  He pauses, looking devine.  "You have my word, beautiful."  His puppy dog eyes twinkle with boyish mischief.  For the second time tonight, I feel my heart melt.  I hardly notice his hand slide up my thigh.  And a moment later, our lips embrace.  We kiss passionately, deeply and erotically.  When our lips finally part, I sense loss, an ache deep down inside of me.  I've never experienced anything like this before!  It frightens me a tad.
     I look at Michael and see only happiness.  Gently, Michael lays me down and I feel the weight of his manly chest upon me as I sink deep into the soft, embracing grasp of the leather lounge.  The thought of another soul stirring kiss thrills me and I close my eyes, hungry with desire.  Instead of a kiss, the tip of his moist tongue tenderly strokes the underside of my chin.  I open my eyes and begin to speak, but Michael presses my lips shut with a firm finger, while mouthing something like, "Ssh" through the booming music.
     I am aching for him.  What is he doing to me?  His hand moves further up my thigh with purpose.  A real man's hand.  Mentally I gasp, wavering between heavenly anticipation and trepidation.  His hand slips higher up my thigh beneath my short dress and touches me between my legs.  Then, without hesitation, he slips his hand inside my panties and fingers within me.  I know I am wet, and God, I can't think straight!
     I want him, desperately, more than anything else in the entire world.  But, I'm petrified of loosing control here and now.  Then I realise my dress is up near my hips and my panties are near my ankles.  Woo, and he's exciting me further.  I'm so torn.  I want him to stop, but I am moaning for him and holding him tightly.  He is too much!  How did he do this to me?
     Michael's hot breath is on my neck, now on my lips.  We kiss deeply, more passionately than before.  But even as our lips remain locked and our lungs drain of breath, I feel his touch within me.  A solitary tear runs down my cheek, one I can no longer 'hold in'.
     The music is now strangely low and I hear the metallic sound of a parting zipper.  I barely have time to focus on Michael's engorged penis, as he takes down his pants and lowers himself into position between my thighs.
     "No, Michael!  No!  Stop it!"  I fling him off with all my might, jumping to my feet, both confused and upset.  "I'm sorry, Michael.  I really do like you and all.  But I'm...just not ready.  Please, I'm sorry."
     "Oh come on, beautiful," he smiles at me disarmingly, pulling me close to him.
     "I said 'No!', Michael!" I yell just as the boom in the music returns with a sudden vengeance.  I wonder what he's done with all the other girls he has had in public.  Well, he doesn't seem to have any respect for me!
     His smile hiccups, but he continues to seduce me further, as he did before.  I shudder, gasp for air and feel my knees weaken.  For a second or two I nearly succumb.  "Please Michael, no!  I mean it!  No!"  With the last of my strength, I push him away, and pull up my panties and straighten my dress.
     Almost heartbroken, I watch the deep disappointment sweep over him.
     "I'm so sorry, Kareena.  I didn't mean to overstep the line; or force you into anything you didn't want."  He dips his gaze and zips up his pants.
     Feeling concerned, I throw him a little, playful frown, hoping he'll respond.  But, he turns away, hurt and dejected.
     "I'm sorry, Michael.  I just wasn't ready.  You do understand, don't you?"
     He faces me flushed with embarrassment and hurt.  "I understand, Kareena.  Do you want me to take you home now?"
     My heart almost breaks in two.  There is such a finality in his voice.  I have hurt him.  Now, I fear I have dashed any chance we might have had.  I don't want to loose him and think on my feet.
     "Can you give me a couple of minutes to go and freshen up?"
     "Sure, Kareena.  Take all the time you want.  I'll wait here for you."  His demeanour brightens a tad, but only a tad.
     "I'm still thirsty.  Aren't you?"  I quip.  He looks at me sheepishly but says nothing.  This is it, I think to myself.  I'm going to loose him.  Then I ask in desperation, "Well, how about another drink?"
     He shrugs half-heartedly.  "Sure, why not.  I'd like that, Kareena."
     I turn to leave and exhale deeply, not knowing if I can salvage this situation.