Monna is one of those girls that you cannot talk about in the past tense. She is ubiquitous, she populates space just like the millions of ants creeping at the bed of your house. She makes chewing gum bubbles that pop with an ear-splitting sound and you get that urge to slap her in the face for that. Monna has the smallest and prettiest nose and the most chiselled of cheek-bones. I hate that bitch.
***
My ex girlfriend had dumped me so I was a single man in no need of a new romance. Love had taken its toll on me and I was really exhausted from trying to fit that woman`s ideas of Prince Charming. She was no Cinderella herself. Her idea of passsion didn`t go much further than sweating like pig in the gym and getting her muscles super-toned after which she used to come home and fuck me like I was an ice-cold T-bone steak. Not that I felt used and abused, not at all. Sex was ok, she just didn`t provide much more than meeting my basic human needs to copulate. I guess she didn`t see much more in me either because she was the one who demanded we split. At first she was very professional about it, very cool and distanced. We talked like adults but we ended it like kids- almost pulling each other`s hair with wrath and frustration. I always doubt business women`s emotion management because they are heardly ever interested in the primitive. They`re like Pavlov`s dog. Similarly, Jamie was a woman of no control of herself outside her office and her flock of loyal sheep who licked her fit ass any time she laid foot in the room. I was glad she screwd it all for us. Well, wastn`t that glad before I dried a few bottles of bourbon trying to forget her.
Almost a year after Jamie had left me I was back in the game, having preserved but a few good memories from that relationship. Shagging bimbos excessively was ok for man my age but the bells of the approaching thirties were ringing so I was kind of reluctant to admit that my penis was getting bored of visiting places without getting to know them. It lacked cultural experiences, to put it that way.
It was my thirtieth birthday and a bloody cold November night. I was out with my friends clubbing. I vaguely remember details about the place and the setting. I recall the smell of ciggies and women`s fragrance. Their lipsticks flashed in the dark signalling availability. Have you noticed that well -balanced shades of make-up that unavailable women put on? Anyways, another thing I remember is that I drank too much and felt a bit sick so I went outside to get some fresh air and decide whether I`d be brave enough for another shot.
Yes, the air was much fresher outside and no, I didn`t feel I could go for another round because the minute I saw her my guts turned into mash. I saw the 5'2-foot-tall strawberry blonde woman strolling back and forth in front of the club and forcing enormous gasps of smoke into her slender frame. She was wearing her nude-colour fancy dress and looked more like a vision rather than a real person.
Despite her elfine figure, she had those raw facial features that I always found so intimidating about women. When I was a kid, my mother scared the wits out of me when she gave me that unforgiving look. Her brows froze still on her face and her would become stiff. The girl in front of me had the same animal ferocity about her, only she used her generous lips to suck the life out of the cigarette. The lips. I immediately fell for them because they slightly curled upwards giving a mocking expression to her face. Their pinkish thickness gave me goosebumps as I couldn`t match that serious face with such a voluptuous mouth.
It was too dark to see her eyes.
to be continued...
photo: here
No comments:
Post a Comment