The Numbers Game (23 page)

            Looking at
Jasper after this was awkward. All Serena could do was try and remember what he
was like in bed. He was good, she thought and his appendage was of decent
proportions too. Not that Serena could be sure about any of that – in those
days, she never really got a very good look at it. The boys would just stick it
inside and pull it out when it was limp.

            “What’s
up?”

            “Nothing,”
Serena replied, going even redder in the face.

            “It’s just
that you were looking at me funny.”

            “Was I?
Sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

            “Hang on,”
Jasper continued, slapping her leg. “It was as if, as if you were trying to
imagine me naked!”

            Oh bloody
hell now Serena was really embarrassed. Her tongue stayed frozen to the roof of
her mouth and she willed for it to unstick as Jasper sniggered away. Of course
her silence only made the truth in his comment more obvious.

            “I’m
right, aren’t I?”

            “Maybe.”
Serena didn’t see the point in denying it. The bad part was already over.

            “Would it
help if I stripped for you right now, would that satisfy your curiosity?”

            “That’s
not necessary,” Serena blushed.

            “Really,
because I don’t mind. We can go back to my place and I’ll whip it all off and
do a parade. That way you don’t have to worry about any surprises next
weekend.”

            “What
makes you think I’ll be having sex with you next weekend?”

            “Did I
mention anything about sex? I just thought since we’d be sharing a room,
there’s the small risk one might walk in on the other in the shower.”

            “Fine,
let’s go then,” Serena said, throwing the embarrassment ball back into his
court, “On the condition that I don’t have to take off my kit as well.”

            Jasper
dropped his mouth in mock horror and then pinched her on the cheek. “It’s a
done deal,” he replied, “Remember, when you’re with me you never have to do
anything you don’t want to do.”

            So that
was how they came to be in Jasper’s small apartment (with the sexy friend of
his absent), one person fully dressed, the other in the buff. For a moment
there Serena wanted to ask Jasper whether she could bottle up his aplomb. Not
many people felt totally confident stripping down for the purpose of scrutiny.
She sure couldn’t, even though her body hovered on the better side. Maybe it
was a female thing - deep down, women were never totally satisfied with what
they had. For example the vast majority of women aspired to have big breasts
but rather than being grateful, Serena worried hers sagged. Others fretted over
imaginary big bums, too wide thighs or a million other “obvious” imperfections.
Nup, given a choice, she’d go for a root canal over running around naked any
day.

            It helped
though if someone else has stripped off her kit first. Serena stared at Jasper
as he went about the house naked, as if fully clothed.

            “Chamomile
tea, three sugars?”

            Serena
nodded her head again. She still hadn’t gotten over the way Jasper’s body
looked. Back in university, she was sure it was just average. Indeed it was one
of the reasons that contributed to her eventual recovery - the heartbreaker has
a girlish slim waist and less bum than her, let’s face it, it was never gonna
last.        But something had happened to Jasper’s body in the interim - a gym
membership maybe? His old slim torso was now displaying a definite six-pack and
his arms though lean were strong and muscular. And his small bum didn’t look
nearly so bad when it was rock hard. In comparison to Markie who was a tall,
wrestler-like creature, Jasper looked as if he suited the petite Serena. 

            “Don’t you
worry that one day your teeth will drop out?” he asked her, passing her the
mug.

            “Nope, I
need sugar just like the roses need the rain. It’s give me my daily rush.”

            “Oh.”
Jasper sat beside her and his penis flopped onto his leg. Up till now Serena
had managed to avoid looking at it directly, a big feat given that she had
drunk up every other inch of his body. From what she could tell, it looked
much, much bigger than Markie’s. “Shame you haven’t been getting that rush from
other parts of your life,” he said, taking her by the hand. From then the
countdown began. Serena couldn’t see herself lasting much longer. The room was
hot, so hot it only seemed logical she remove her clothes as well.

            “Damn, you
are beautiful,” Jasper whispered and for once Serena didn’t mind the word damn preceding
the word you.

            Without
going into all the sordid details (which Serena did not feel inclined to share)
the event was romantic, powerful and surreal all at once. The sort of coupling
that a teenage girl’s dreams are made of and inasmuch as Serena could talk about
it for hours, she preferred to keep it to herself.         Maybe because it had
been a while since Serena had been made love. Or maybe simply because it was
Jasper and he believed in things like privacy and energy.  The more you share
it with others, the less you have to keep for yourself.

As one could guess,
life in the office wasn’t all peaches and cream after the episode with Lola. To
the contrary it was Markie’s worst nightmare come true.

            He was
sure it was awkward enough for two people who enjoyed energetic sex and then
put it down to fun and parted ways. But when it was a bad lay, what did one do?
His experience with Lola had honestly turned him off plastic Barbies for life.

            It was
hell getting out of that motel room after the sex was over (he had timed it and
not even forty five minutes had passed from him checking into the room to ejaculation).
Markie had lain there after the act, waiting for Lola to make the first move.
Surely she’d get up soon to put on another layer of makeup or something, he
thought and that’s when he would make his escape. But no, Lola insisted on some
cuddle time and that he snuggle her, not the other way around.

            “Come
here,” she had said, pulling Markie closer, “lay your head here on my impressive
chest.”

            As
pathetic as that sounded, she was right about their description. Her assets
stood erect like rigid mountains upon her torso. Fake, they had to be fake he
decided then and there, scolding himself for not noticing earlier. Behind
clothing they had looked real enough but once he got some skin to skin contact he
realized they were no softer than a pillow filled with bricks. It hurt his head
to rest on them, as well as his neck thanks to the steep slant.

            Half an
hour later Markie was still lying there and it became evident Lola intended to
hold him hostage. Whilst stroking his hair, she rambled on about how in the
morning she was going to request a four-egg white omelet breakfast in bed and
then go and utilize the hotel’s gym, to burn the calories off quicker
apparently.

            “But of
course you’ll make love to me at least five times before then.”

            By this
point Markie sensed the dire situation and became planning a half-decent
escape, one better fit for a movie.

            “I have to
go to the bathroom,” he had said, wriggling out of her grasp.

            “What are
you doing in there?” Lola yelled three minutes later. Rap, rap, rap, she tapped
at the door. “If you’re showering let me in.”

            “Just a
sec,” said Markie, hopping on one leg while putting the other into his
trousers. “One more minute…” He didn’t bother tucking in his shirt; instead he
quickly buttoned himself up and then put his socks on inside out. It was neater
this way, if he was dressed. He could talk rationally then and exit like a man.

            “Where are
you going?” Lola asked when Markie had opened up the door. Her eyes narrowed
into tiny slits and that look, along with her smooth nakedness made her resemble
a snake.

            “Nowhere,”
he replied, “I was just gonna pop downstairs and get you a surprise.”

            “Really?”
Lola asked, sounding skeptical. Uh oh…. Markie hoped no one had tried this plan
on her before. “What is it?”

            “If I told
you it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

            “No…”
Lola’s voice had trailed off when she saw the mirror.            “Gosh, go on
then,” she said, puckering up her lips to the reflection, as though she were
about to snog herself. “Bring me back whatever you have in mind and pronto. A
lady doesn’t like to be kept waiting, you know.”

            “Yes
ma’am,” Markie replied, eyeing his keys on the bedside table. Without those, he
wouldn’t get very far but how could he lift them without arousing suspicion?

            “Lola…” he
said, sniffing the air around. “Do you notice that something smells strange in
this room?”

            “No,” she
replied, wrinkling her nose. “What sort of smell?”

            “I don’t
know. A bit like…” Markie had wanted to say fart or flatulence but the words
got caught in his throat.  “An off smell… you didn’t by some chance…?” He
nodded down to her ass.

            “Me?” Lola
pointed to herself, utterly horrified. “I don’t think so.”

            What a
great way to kill the last inkling of romantic spirit, Markie smiled to
himself. He picked up the keys once Lola had safely disappeared to the shower,
as predicted, and noted that he’d have to share this tip with all his friends.
Just accuse her of stinking up the place like a garbage truck; that will do
every time. With any luck, Lola would surreptitiously get dressed and run away
herself, upon Markie’s departure. Yes, knowing her she’ll do just that, Markie
decided as he slipped into his car; she’ll creep out and think she’s done the
one over her boss. This thought settled his mind, erasing all guilt by the time
he got home.

            Cross the
threshold to a new day and Markie was now scared stiff. He had been all calm
and cool until he entered the office, until he saw Lola standing there like
Madonna on a pissed off day outside his door.

            “Where did
you disappear to?” she hissed under her breath.

            “What?”
Markie stammered. Crap, it was not hip at all for a MD to have his feathers
ruffled by anyone, let alone a subordinate. Keep composed for now and tell her
you’ll discuss it when you want to, on your terms, later. “We’ll talk about it
this afternoon.”

            “Oh no, we
won’t,” Lola snapped, following Markie into the office.

            He let
this tone slip once again - it was early and no one else had arrived. But if
she did it again Markie would be forced to rap Lola hard across the fingers.

            “Yes we
will,” Markie insisted. “A secretary does not dictate what her boss does with
his time and never will. I hope you understand that.”

            Lola
stepped back, as though slapped across the face. For the first time ever,
Markie thought she was ugly. Just look at that contorted pancake face and
artificial orange body of hers, what did he ever see in her? What did all the
boys see in her?           Maybe Lola was one of those black witches who used
her power to cast spells over men and only now, having eaten her pussy – the
antidote – could Markie see the light. He was sure he could talk until he was
blue in the face about how Lola was a selfish, synthetic and weird bitch but no
one else would get it, not one other boy in the universe, until they slept with
her too.

            Now that
he thought of Lola as more average than superb, Markie found it easier to put
her in her place. That afternoon, he called her into his office and their
conversation went a bit like this:

            “Look
Lola, I’m afraid this extra-curricular relationship between us isn’t going to
work.  We went to bed because my self-confidence was feeling slightly battered
but that is it. We’re professionals and as professionals we must act
accordingly. For the sake of our working relationship, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

            Lola stood
there, hands pressed together and teeth clenched, listening but who could say
if she was really taking it in?

            “Yes sir,”
she murmured, like a good personal assistant. Then she got up and left.

     Markie didn’t kid
himself by thinking that their secret rendezvous was completely brushed over.
It hadn’t been put to rest, not by a long shot. It would take time for her
disappointment and embarrassment on his end to die and wash away. And that was
okay…For now he just had to accept - a fire of rage was boiling right beneath Lola’s
surface.

“Tension, tension,”
Rick nicely summed up the feeling in the air. “I think it’s time for you to get
laid again.”

            Markie
groaned like a beaten tiger and slumped deeper into the plush velvet couch.
Yellow velvet wouldn’t ordinarily rate high on his list of style but the
C-lounge had offset its sunshine quality with lots of cherry wood here and
there which made it okay.