My Favourite Mixmaster
1992; Springer International Publishing; Volume: 18; Issue: 2 Linguagem: Inglês
ISSN
0311-4198
Autores Tópico(s)Communication in Education and Healthcare
ResumoA really good-looking burglar crept into my bedroom one afternoon as was lying awake in my lingerie thinking private thoughts. Hello? whispered, hoping to alert him to my presence without alerting him into doing anything rash, if you know what mean. Hello, said, Can help you? and could help it if my voice was all husky from lying about in the middle of the day? My fair-haired intruder nearly fell over from fright. However, my doze-induced calmness must have influenced him, for he merely stood there gulping and surveying my, well, to be frank, curvaceous and vulnerable form. pulled one of the pink satin sheets very slowly across my body so as not to startle him further. Downstairs could hear the sounds of rummaging and pilfering, but naturally the good-looking intruder was my sole concern at this point. What was he about, creeping into lone women's bedrooms, for one thing? And what was his name? And did say that he had unruly blonde hair and a casual open-necked shirt and the bluest of blue eyes . . . Well he started to edge out of the room, but felt it irresponsible to just let him go without some kind of interrogation, so patted the bed beside me. When he didn't stop, decided that he must be a little shy, and in need of coaxing. Now you're in my bedroom, said, I think you might owe me just a few minutes of your time. mean as you can see, I'm unarmed. Just then heard a name called out from down below, and my handsome thief looked guiltily to the landing. So his name was Marcus; well, that was a start. And did say he had on these tight blue jeans, a little bit raggedy in the fashionable way, and a very shapely bicep-hugging shirt rolled up at the sleeves. gave a small sigh of exasperation and lay back on the pillow, fully expecting the episode to come to a close. could hear heavy things being moved around downstairs; my television, most likely, or else the stereo that I'd bought for John, or was it Stuart? Oh, well, these things were replaceable. Certain moments, however, seemed destined never to have been. Then looked up to see the door being closed by my opportune intruder, and he slinking handsomely to the bed. He must have been, did say, nineteen or twenty, healthily tanned and just about the cutest little delinquent this side of my other favourite, Billy Idol. Uh-uh, Marcus, said gently, How about just pulling that lock across, there's a dear. What a clever boy! He did as he was told, and the next thing know he's undoing his shirt and coming to kneel on the edge of the liqui-luxury king sized waterbed that got as a present for myself when Harvey sailed off on his ill-fated Caribbean voyage last September. By now could hear the unmistakable sounds of cutlery being confiscated and bureau drawers being rifled, but had other more important things to think about. My little robber-boy, for instance, busily sliding the camisole strap along my poor, massage-needing shoulder. Who could be bothered thinking about ownership and other jurisprudential things when something so deliciously sensate was going on? …
Referência(s)