Anyway, I didn’t know how I’d ever repay him for intervening on my descent into depression back in Berlin. Now when I say I’m feeling good, I actually mean it. The grey my world once was is brightening a little. Touches of colour are popping up here and there, like in The Wizard of Oz when things slowly began to transform into Technicolor.
I locked the door and stepped into the hallway, preparing to go and seek out a hot beverage. I didn’t need to go far. A tanned brunette was standing in front of the door to the apartment next to mine. She was scrolling through her phone, just about to slot her key in the lock, when her head came up. She saw me, studied me for a moment, then smiled.
She was attractive in the same way Kim Kardashian was attractive, but without the boobs and ginormous bottom.
“Oh, hi, have you just moved in?” she asked, stepping forward and offering me her hand. “I’m Nora. I live in here. Number 23.” She nodded to the door in front of her.
Immediately, I could tell she was a nice but no-nonsense sort of girl. She looked to be in her mid-twenties.
“Yes, I’ve just moved in, actually. I’m Nicholas. Good to meet you, Nora.”
We shook hands, and she asked if I’d like to join her for a cup of tea, her eyes eating me up. She was definitely interested in more than just a cup of tea.
“Why not?” I replied, and she led the way into her apartment.
The place was clean and tidy, and I could get the slight whiff of baking. It actually smelled really good, and gave me a weird yearning for homeliness in my chest. Perhaps she’d made a cake that morning. We sat down on the couch and made idle chitchat.
I hadn’t had sex in a month, and I was wary of venturing back into that zone, as it were. Still, if I were going to venture, I didn’t think it would be with Nora. I’d had her type before, and her type did not appeal. Incredibly beautiful, yes, but also incredibly uptight. I wanted the women I fucked to go completely wild, let go. Nora was wound so tight that letting go was a virtual impossibility. I could visualise it perfectly. She’d lie there flat on her back, complaining that I was doing things wrong while giving instructions on how I could improve.
As I said, it did not appeal.
My gaze wandered to where a picture hung on the wall of her and another woman. They had their arms around each other, smiling widely into the camera. The woman she was with immediately caught my interest, mostly because she had this wonderful mane of curly golden-brown hair, but also because she had big beautiful eyes, and yes, I would admit, big beautiful breasts.
What could I say? I noticed these things.
“I’d love if you joined us for dinner this evening,” Nora said, bringing my attention back to her. She’d been talking for at least a minute and I hadn’t heard a word she said, so engrossed in studying the picture as I was.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. Freda will be home from work, and she’s a great cook. You’ll love her food. She makes the most amazing dinners.”
“Freda?”
“She’s my roommate. You see the girl in the picture over there?” She pointed right at the photo I’d been studying. So Freda was the curly-haired beauty. Well, I was definitely interested in this dinner now, if only to meet such an intriguing young woman in the flesh. I was already having entirely indecent thoughts about her, and so far I’d only seen one picture. I guessed my month-long period of abstinence was finally catching up with me.
I agreed to the dinner and then told Nora I had to get going. I wanted to pop by the club and see Phil. Later that day I was leaving my apartment yet again, this time to go and meet with the landlord and sort out some paperwork. And yet again there was a woman standing outside the door to apartment number 23. It wasn’t Nora, though. I instantly recognised the curls, but they were wet and bedraggled. I found it attractive in a strange way. This was Freda, and I took my time in sizing her up.
She’d obviously just been caught in a shower, her T-shirt soaked through. When she turned to me, I saw that her nipples were hard and peeking through the fabric. Nice, very nice. Obviously, it was because of the wet material. I didn’t think she was turned on. She looked more pissed off and frustrated. I really wanted to congratulate her on such a fine display of nipple visibility but thought it might be a tad inappropriate. After all, I hadn’t even said hello yet.
I smiled at her, and she stared back at me.
“Hello there,” I said, and took a step forward. I held my hand out to her, and she glanced down at the plastic shopping bags she was holding. I let my hand drop, rubbing it against my trousers, and continued, “You must be Freda. Your flatmate Nora invited me in for a cup of tea earlier. Lovely girl.”
I thought I saw her blush a little, and it got my blood up. Finally, she spoke. “Fred — you can call me Fred.”
Instantly, I really liked the fact that she chose to go by a boy’s name. It appealed to my gender-bending nature. She put her shopping bags down, and came and shook my hand. I enjoyed the feel of her skin on mine. Soft. I felt like I might be staring at her too intensely, because she seemed uncomfortable just then. I would have killed to know what she was thinking. Did she find me attractive? I wanted her to be attracted to me more than I had any woman in a really long time, and I didn’t quite know why.
I kept ahold of her hand, wanting to prolong the contact, but then she let go. Thinking that humour might work, I said, “Okay, Fred, you can call me Vivica.”
She smiled at me then, a shy, slightly cynical smile. She didn’t laugh, though, and I desperately wanted to hear her do so. My reaction to this woman was becoming unnerving.
“Cool — if we become close friends, can I call you Viv?” she replied with a twinkle in her eye.
She was being flirtatious. This was a good sign. I pulled out my best Vivica Blue when I pretended to flick my hair over my shoulder and responded intensely, “You can call me whatever you like, Frederick.”
She gave me an odd, thoughtful look. I knew I wasn’t exactly the most normal man, so I wondered what her impressions were of me. There was a moment of silence, during which I took the pleasure of soaking in her pretty face and lush figure. She pulled at the hem of her soaking-wet top self-consciously. Inwardly, I growled. My attention was making her antsy, and I enjoyed it. Her cheeks grew redder by the second. Her reply was sassy, though, and I liked how she covered her shyness with spunk.
“Why, thanks, I'll keep that in mind, Viv. It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope you're finding the place to your liking.”
I grinned. “Oh, it's a palace fit for a queen, Freddie, a real find.”
Glancing at my watch, I noted I was late for my meeting with the landlord, so I began walking backward. I knew I had to go, but I wanted to prolong this encounter with the intriguing Fred for as long as I could.
She laughed, and I enjoyed the sound. This whole conversation I had been waiting to hear that laugh, and I wasn’t disappointed. It made something stir inside me.
“Well, that's good to hear. Drop in for tea any time,” she said.
I allowed myself one last glance at her glorious chest region and made a final joke. I needed to charm her.
“Damn it. Did I miss the wet T-shirt competition again?” I made sure she saw exactly where my eyes were trained. I wanted her to be aware of my interest, because I wanted to have her naked and under me as quickly as possible. I wasn’t normally quite so eager, but I put it down to the month-long dry spell.
Fred spoke. “Ah, you did, I'm afraid. In Dublin we put on some great ones, too. We all gather down by the River Liffey and dive in with our clothes on. When we climb out, the junkies on the boardwalk give us marks out of ten.”
I gave her a slow smirk for that one. Already I was liking her sarcastic sense of humour. “If that's the case, then you must have gotten an eleven. Sounds like a real classy affair, Fred. I'll make sure I don't miss the next one.”
“Come along whenever you like. We always welcome newcomers.”
I considered asking if she??
?d like to take part in a private wet T-shirt competition. Just the two of us. Real…cosy. But I shut my mouth, because I wasn’t sure if I was being too full-on as it was. I was already imagining what kind of sounds she might make when I fucked her. Instead I saluted her, turned around, and continued on my way to see the landlord.
June 28th, 2012. (Part Two)
Soundtrack: “Hounds of Love” by Kate Bush
I was ready to go the moment Nora knocked my door that evening, eager to see Fred again. This was so unlike me, and the fact that she could stir my interest so intensely was giving me hope, washing away a little more of the grey.
I made a joke to Nora as we entered her and Fred’s apartment about the landlord, and how he reminded me of a ginger-haired Nicholas Cage. She laughed more profusely than was warranted, and my eyes immediately pinpointed Fred as she stood by the cooker with her back to us. My gaze wandered down that back to her shapely bottom, appreciating the view. The food smelled incredible, and I think my attraction to her grew by another fraction. I loved to eat. However, I was a woeful cook, so anyone who could provide me with culinary delights instantly won points.
“Look, Fred, Nicholas brought a bottle of wine. Wasn't that nice of him?” said Nora, and Fred glanced casually over her shoulder at us. Her body language was wound tight, and she seemed unimpressed. I wanted to unwind her, and I definitely knew a few ways in which I could leave her impressed. The intensity of my need to have her was new. I don’t mean to sound like an arse, but usually women were the ones who chased me. For some reason, I had a feeling that with Fred I’d have to be the one doing the chasing. And yes, I planned on pulling out all the stops.
She pursed her lips, and a small, mischievous gleam came into her eyes. “What a treat! You're a real prize, Viv. How much did that cost you, 8.99 down in Londis?”
Oh, she surely was a sassy, sarcastic little thing. It riled me up, and if I were being honest, excited me something terrible.
“Don't be rude, Fred,” Nora said to her, frowning. “I need to pop to the loo. You two chat amongst yourselves.”
I was immediately happy to be left alone with my most recent object of attraction, and tried to think of a way to endear myself to her. She seemed a little defensive, and I didn’t like it. She was focused intently on stirring a pot of simmering bolognaise, not paying me any notice. Deciding to take the bull by the horns, I walked across the room and stepped up right behind her, taking her by the hips and affectionately resting my head on her shoulder.
Sometimes, forcing physical closeness with women worked for me. Not that kind — I’m not completely depraved. Often, though, women liked it when I took them in my arms for a hug or pulled them onto my lap to sit. Unfortunately, Fred’s entire body went ramrod straight the moment I touched her. I instantly regretted the move, but at the same time I didn’t. Her supple hips felt good beneath my palms.
“Smells delicious, Fred,” I told her, brazenly giving her a squeeze. It was ridiculously inappropriate, but I wanted a reaction out of her. Needed one. Still, she barely moved, and instead gave me a one-word reply. “Yep.”
I leaned closer, allowing my breath to whisper across the back of her neck. She shivered, and I think I saw her breath hitch, which made me grow a little hard. “The wine cost twenty Euros, and I got it from the off-licence down the road.”
“Oh, very la di da, Viv. You must be a big spender.”
I grinned, liking how she was subtly taunting me by continuing to call me by a woman’s name. “You like calling me Viv, do you?”
“What can I say, feminine blokes really do it for me.”
Enjoying this interaction, I decided to up the ante a level…or twenty. I spoke low and quick into her ear. “I can do that, if it's what you're into. In fact, I can be whatever you want me to be. I don't think it is, though. I think you're the kind of woman who likes a man to take the lead.” Then I pulled her hips back into mine. The feel of her soft arse flush against my cock did wonderful things. Wonderful things. I was having visions of throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her into my apartment so I could have my wicked way with her. Unfortunately, my forwardness was not taken in the manner I had intended. Pulling swiftly out of my hold, she lifted up her stirring spoon and pointed it at me as though it were a weapon that would keep me at arm’s length.
“Okay. Listen here — back the hell up, or I'll knee you in the balls.”
Well, now, this definitely wasn’t the reaction I’d been aiming for. It seemed being forward wasn’t going to work with Fred. I took a step away, allowing her some space, and dived straight into an apology. “Sorry, Freda. I thought you were making all the passive-aggressive comments because you were into me.”
“Yeah, well, you thought wrong. Now sit down at the table and make nice before Nora comes back out.”
Her response made me grin. I kind of liked it when she went all stern headmistress on me.
“Yes, sir,” I said, and obediently went to sit down just as she requested. I didn’t stop staring at her, though. I couldn’t. And it struck me all of a sudden that something quite unusual was taking place. I think I actually liked this girl far more than she liked me. If she even liked me at all. It saddened me to think that after my most recent behaviour, she might think I was some sort of perverted creep. Regret instantly overtook me. I’d gone about this all the wrong way.
She was looking back at me now. Still mad, but not as mad as she’d been a minute ago. God, her eyes were gorgeous. I couldn’t help but say, “What colour are your eyes, anyway? They look gold in certain lights.”
She shrugged and gave me a shy glance, while the tiniest hint of a smile played on her lips.
“Hazel, I guess.”
“They're lovely,” I told her. “You're lovely.”
I saw her instantly melt as she shifted self-consciously on her feet. Ah, so it was wooing and romance that was needed. I would try to remember that for future reference. She drew in a quick breath, and then her armour was back in place.
“Thank you for establishing my loveliness, Viv. Now, do you like garlic? Because there is a lot of garlic in this bolognaise.”
I grinned. She was changing the subject, but I could tell she enjoyed my compliment.
“I love it.”
“Good,” she said, and then Nora was back from the bathroom. I swear I almost choked on my laughter when Fred called to her roommate, “You might want to crack a window in there, Nora. You were in for a while. Number two, was it?”
It was right after she said it that I came to the instant conclusion that she was a woman after my own heart, and even if she didn’t want to shag me, I would go out of my way to keep her as a friend.
“She's just fabulous, isn't she?” I said to a rather red-faced Nora. Their interaction reminded me a little of me and Phil. I often liked to rub him up the wrong way for my own personal enjoyment. Yes, Fred and I were kindred. There was no denying it. And I was staring at her again. I knew she wasn’t comfortable with the attention, but I just couldn’t seem to help myself.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Nora replied to me tightly, and came to sit at the table. Fred began to dish out the food. I started eating immediately, finding myself suddenly ravenous. The bread, which I suspected was homemade, was delicious.
“So, Nicholas, what do you do for a living?” Nora asked.
Ah, now, answering this one would be tricky. I didn’t think Fred would be the kind of girl to have a problem with my career choice, yet I was anxious that she might turn out to be close-minded. I was liking her so much that if she had a problem with my profession, I was going to be very disappointed. So I decided to play it safe and answer in a roundabout way.
“I'm a cabaret performer,” I said, speaking to Nora but watching for Fred’s reaction. She seemed to be interested but trying not to come across as eager.
“Oh, really,” said Nora. “How interesting. What exactly does that entail?”
“It's a whole act, a bit of music, a bit of comedy,
a bit of interaction with the audience.”
“Do you sing?”
“I most certainly do,” I gave her a wink and picked up the wine. This would be my first drop of alcohol since Berlin, but I felt my head was in a good enough place to handle it. I knew I was only going to have a glass or two, rather than a whole bottle…or several.
“Wine, Fred?” I asked, settling my gaze on her.
“Of course, Viv,” she said, still with the sassy tone. When I fucked her, and I was determined to make it happen, she would not be calling me Viv. In fact, I was working on this rather detailed fantasy of her screaming my name while I took her up against a wall.
After I poured the wine and Fred had a taste, Nora continued to question me. I didn’t mind. As I stated already, I’d known countless women like Nora in my time, and they were uneasy when they didn’t know every single thing about a person’s background, family history, blood type, etc.
“And have you lived in Dublin long?” she asked.
Deciding to satisfy her need for information, I told her everything I presumed she wanted to know. “Just arrived. I've visited a couple of times, though. It's a great city. A friend of mine manages a new club here and offered me a regular gig performing, so I jumped at the chance. I've been travelling from country to country for years, going wherever the work took me. But I think I'm ready to settle down somewhere, for a while, anyway.”
“Nora's in the nightclub business herself,” said Fred, and I looked at her with interest, glad she had decided to take part in the conversation. “She bartends. You two will be able to exchange stories about all the drunks.”
I gave Nora a smile. “Oh, really, where do you work?”
“Temple Bar,” she answered, and glanced up at me from beneath her lashes, perhaps in an effort to appear demure. I felt a small pang of guilt for not telling her that her efforts were lost on me. Fred was the one who held my rapt interest. Still, I never liked to be rude, especially when I could help it, so I replied, “Ah. The club I'll be performing in is on Capel Street. For a moment there I thought it was fate, and we'd be working in the same place.” I paused and swiftly turned my attention back to Fred. “So tell me about you, Fred. What do you do?”