When you read the title, you'd wonder why a brunnette HB7.5 would ask me that question. Well, be kind. Rewind. Friday night, I was just wrapping up at the office when I thought I'd text this HB7.5 I met earlier in the day at the Global Brand Forum (Ivanka Trump was speaking!!). Her hair was short and she was in a dark brown skirt and white short sleeved blouse. Not very revealing but I could tell there was good stuff underneath it. I opened her when we went to the same table to grab coffee and noticed she was wearing a tag written "MEDIA".
ME: Can you speak English? (I love this opener coz it's so innocent and masks whatever you might be intending to do to her...hehe)
HB: I do actually, why you ask?
ME: I need your help ... I'm not a coffee person. I'll just drink the milk instead ... what you think?
HB: (Squints a little) Long as you leave some for the rest of us coffee junkies
ME: Coffee junkie? I should stay away from you ...
HB: Haha ... why? (I noticed she had stopped stirring her coffee and was looking at me. I stood with my right shoulder to her, appearing disinterested)
ME: Never mind...next thing, you're going to tell me you're one of those people on facebook!
HB: Actually, I am!
We laughed.
We shot the shit about the dynamic of coffee and facebook, she works for a trade publication and was covering the event. Told her about my job and I was there to stare at Ivanka Trump. She laughed. Anyway, I time-constrained that I had to catch up with my workmate who was already sitting in the hall and looking through the programme notes.
ME: Good luck with your article. I might read it if I come across your magazine.
HB: You can go on the website (she shuffles into her bag and gives me her card)
I look at it and notice her mobile number is not there.
ME: There's something wrong with your card ... here, write your mobile number
I hand her the card as if I won't take it if she doesn't write down her number. All this time, I'm wondering whether she's really being professional or polite.
HB: Oh, I only got here a few weeks ago, so they're new (laughs) ...
I gave her my card, she wrote her number on her card and gave it to me
ME: Your handwriting ... says alot about you (blah blah blah)
HB: Well, I think it's almost starting (ignoring my statement) ... don't want to keep Ivanka waiting! (she clicked her fingers in mock enthusiasm).
ME: She can wait, I'll fix myself a cup of milk...
HB: Talk to you later (Well, we never spoke again after that talk, I rushed out to get back into the office)
I made a note to call her later on Friday night and set up for a few drinks on Saturday night. Fuck the three day rule!! But when I called later, it went to voicemail and I almost panicked. I could either sound AFC or use C&F and see what happens.
"Hey, its me (didn't want to be so obvious but it also does you some good to be silly). I'm going out to this slightly gay restaurant tomorrow, join me for drinks. Promise I wont drink milk."
Thought it would work well for her to associate that with me ... that I wasn't offering anything other than my quirks. It probably worked but not as I planned. She sent me a text saying she was already doing something on Saturday night but we could catch up on Sunday afternoon.
"I'm leaving on Wednesday, be back in the new year. We can hang out before I go..."
We met at a gastro pub at 6PM, there was highlights of the Arsenal/Wigan game on the big screen. Shot the shit some more and shifted into kino with my "do you have a lighter?" routine and sat next to her, talked some more ... a whole FOUR hours and thought we could wrap up a great weekend at my place where I could do with her opinion on some sub-plots for my never-to-be-finished novel. She seemed uneasy at first...
ME: Do you have a thumb-drive? I can save the draft there for you to look at later
HB: Yeah, cool. Okay.
But instead of going to my place, she said we could stop by her place to pick it up and then head to my place. This was new ground for me. I'm not usually invited to HB's places but got there and it was small but clean and sweet-smelling. I took a seat
. A little breathless from walking up the stairs. She's on the first floor but said she preferred the stairs...whatever.
HB: That's my favourite seat. Get off (she smiled)
ME: There's enough space for three...you can take your side (eliminating the idea that I wanted her to sit next to me)
She laughed and went to her room, stayed there for a good few minutes while I thumbed through some chick-lit novel she was reading. When she came out she had a thumb-drive in her hand, looked slightly expectant and sat next to me. I grabbed it and negged her that it was only 1 gig and she should get something bigger (LOL). Anyway, kino again, push pull ... I stared into her left eye with my right eye, asked her how she knew if she had a connection with people she'd just met and basically threw the whole kitchen sink at her. Went in for the kiss and then pulled her hair slightly roughly and kissed her on her neck.
HB: No hickies (i suspect she's got some long-term guy)
ME: I want one (i demanded)
She laughed and kissed my neck, bit at it and sucked. We kissed some more then I went CAVEMAN!! I couldn't risk any resistance but she suddenly stopped me.
HB: Let's go to my room
I chose to comply rather than miss out on muffin. Turned out she only wanted me there so she could get a condom on me!! Clever girl coz I didn't have any on me. Well, we kissed some more, did the usual then went ahead and fingered her with my index curving upwards with my thumb rubbing anti-clockwise on her clit (sorry about the details LOL) and she suddenly raised her hips and moaned loudly....
HB: IS THAT .... MY.... G ... SPOT? FEEELS SOO GOOOD!!!
What then happened was that I got on top of her and she came twice, asked me "Who are you?" and guys, that gave my ego a good boost. When we were FUBAR, she showered and I freshened up. I kept my end of the deal and we headed over to my place, saved the draft and gave her a shandy while I cracked open a beer. I put on a DVD of Little Britain (a British comedy) and she laughed about the whole retarded stuff in there like the fat woman that's been overstaying at a hotel and is asked to pay or be thrown out.
FAT WOMAN: You can call my solicitor....his number is...123 - 456 - 789
Classic stuff.
I think I've still got a long way to go before I get comfortable at HBs' houses coz I felt like I wasnt in much control of the situation in foreign territory. I'd really appreciate feedback on how anybody's handled being at an HB's house....I get the sense the same shit applies but the wheels are just not turning fast enough in my head on this one.
Thanks.
CHAT
