Helen - Wednesday
As Helen approached the station, she wound up her phone call with her friend Sunny. They’d been friends for years although their lives had taken opposite paths, Sunny was happily married, with a baby and living in the sticks, whereas Helen was firmly seated on London’s cutting edge. With a job as demanding as a toddler that she considered far more rewarding and not only because of her large pay packet, but also because of the social whirl it brought with it. Take today for instance, she’d wined and dined clients at the Ivy enjoying several £80 bottles of wine with them before heading back to the office for a natter with the girls, who she always had a good giggle with. The call came through at about 4pm from the legal department saying the contract had finally been signed, Helen had already done her maths and was expecting her commission to be somewhere in the region of 20k before tax. Not too shabby a day at all, and now to cap it off, she was heading for the tube and a short journey to Ken in Canary Wharf.
She noticed the fat girl gazing at the really good looking man, who thankfully hadn’t noticed that he was being letched at. Helen looked at her and wondered if she put as much effort into all her pursuits as she clearly did eating. She wasn’t being mean, but seriously how did she get that big and why didn’t she care? Helen was pleased with her appearance, it took a fair bit of maintenance, but the end result spoke for itself. Approaching forty, Helen liked to think she could easily pass for twenty eight, she’s blonde, petite and in good shape having not eaten a single slice of white bread since she passed her GCSEs. Helen allows herself a few carbs on a first date, just to show she’s naturally slim apposed to rigorously self disciplined, but the rest of the time its broths and salads or natural yogurt and granola. If she had time she’d be a gym bunny, however with her busy work and social life she watches what she eats andprimarily survives on cigarettes.
The train pulled into Bank station where Helen disembarked, she glanced back at the fat woman who looked like she was going to cry, perhaps she was hungry Helen wondered as she walked along the platform, giving her bum an extra wiggle just in case the handsome guy was checking her out. She made her way to the DLR and all thoughts of the day left her as she neared Ken. Ken is American and over fairly regularly for work, his company in which he is a Vice President, had numerous partners in the global banking community and a small office in Cabot Square within one of the gleaming glass towers. The prospect of Ken made Helen’s tummy flutter.
As the train emerged from the darkness of the tunnel Helen’s phone beeped, it was Ken saying he’d been waylaid and would be about an hour, he’d meet her in Browns as soon as he could get away. Helen was not even disappointed, the waiting was as exciting as the seeing. She’d have time to freshen up and change into the new sexy underwear she had in her bag, she’d also have time to position herself at the bar, draped, thigh peeking through the split in her skirt, perhaps even a glimpse of the black lace suspenders she was about to put on. Should she even bother with the panties? She’d have her back to the door, her hair over one shoulder allowing the breeze created by his entry to tickle the nape of her neck, her left hand will be holding a glass of champagne and his empty glass will be waiting for him on the bar as urgently as she is.
When she first met Ken it was at a meeting in one of the private members clubs that are littered around exclusive areas of London. Ken is the epitome of Corporate America, he has those square Californian shoulders that state ‘I work out – and hard’, he’s as well groomed as a show poodle and oozes power that could charge an iPhone at a thousand paces. During the meeting, she discreetly undid her top button, applied some lip gloss and blatantly listened, laughing in all the appropriate places a little too hard. Ken noticed her noticing him and played with her in return. When the meeting disbanded, Ken ordered a bottle of vintage Champagne, which they drank together while still maintaining an air of business professionalism.
“So, going forward, you would be interested in partnering with us,” said Helen as she seductively popped an olive into her mouth.
“I think the benefits could be mutually beneficial,” replied Ken, “depending on the assets of our agreement.”
Helen leant forward, lifted her chin and smiled “we have great assets that are extremely flexible” she parted her legs just a little.
Ken put his hand on her thigh, stroking it gently, “obviously, we would need to test the flexibility of the assets you mentioned before any lasting contracts can be signed.”
“I totally understand” she said, taking his hand and leading him to the disabled toilet.
Helen undid his expensive belt, the metal buckle made a loud clattering noise as it hit the porcelain floor tiles. They maintained eye contact in the full-length mirror as Helen sunk to her knees and took him in her mouth. She watched him watching her until he finally closed his eyes and gave in to the pleasure she was giving him.
Back at the bar they finished their champagne before heading off to Ken’s hotel.
“I’m married,” he said as he hailed a taxi.
“Good for you, I’m not,” she replied over her shoulder as she stood in front of him, rubbing him through his suit trousers.
In the back of the taxi, they kissed for the first time and he gently slipped two fingers inside her.
While Helen waited at Browns for slightly longer than the expected hour, she accidentally drank a whole bottle of Chablis, realising she was slightly too merry she repaired herself in the toilet with some more make up and a small line. By the time she returned to the bar, Ken was already there, before he could spot her she nipped back into the toilet angry with herself that she’d missed the opportunity to position herself for him.
“Now get it together and don’t act pissed,” she said to the mirror, then decided that another small line would be exactly what she needed to straighten herself out, “just a small one mind,” she said out loud.
“I’m sorry?” asked the woman who had just entered the ladies.
“What?” said Helen before locking herself in the cubicle. Helen felt repulsion as she heard the other woman wee. She snorted her line quickly and efficiently not even bothering to fake flush. Standing before the mirror Helen applied yet another coat of lip gloss, sneered at the woman emerging from the cubicle and headed out restored, to meet Ken.
He was perched at the bar next to her empty wine glass and upturned bottle busily chatting with the attractive young barmaid. Helen strolled towards him and took position away from her debris.
“Babe,” he smiled when he saw her, spinning his barstool to face her.
“I’m sorry I’m late, have you been here long?”
“Just arrived,” she replied while daring the barmaid to contradict her. She stood between Ken’s legs and kissed him passionately.
“You missed me then,” he joked, “another glass of vino?.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said defiantly, knowing the taste of her mouth might be a bit sour.
“Listen babe, I haven’t got long. I’ve got a dinner this evening, but I just had to see you.”
“Oh,” said Helen, the disappointment registering on her face before she had a chance to hide it.
“Don’t be upset, I’m sure you have plenty of other boys you could play with instead.”
“Where’s the dinner?” Helen chose to ignore his previous comment, she was sure he said things like that just to remind her he was married.
“Berkeley Square. It’ll be dull, associates and their wives. I’ll be the spare one that gets the cheque at the end.”
“I could come with you if you want.”
Ken burst out laughing and Helen noticed a slight smirk on the barmaid’s face. “Seriously, it’s a boring business thing that’s all. I’ve come to give you my room key. I won’t be late, get yourself ready for me, order some room service if you’re hungry. I’m going to have you for dessert.”
“I might,” Helen said snatching the key and gathering her belongings.
“Babe,” he called after her quickly ordering himself a Grey Goose and tonic before following her. “Come back inside.”
She spun around, the hurt transmitting from her eyes like Superman’s lasers.
“I’m sorry,” he said “I’d love to take you, but some of them know my wife.”
“You could say I’m your colleague.”
“But, I’d be tempted to bend you over the table and screw your brains out, you’re just so hot. Next time I promise,” he leant forward and cupped her face in his strong base baller’s hands before kissing her, their tongues dancing together until Helen thought her legs were going to give out.
“Come back inside with me,” he took her hand and led her back to the bar where his drink was waiting, “and a glass of your finest wine for my girlfriend.”
Helen’s eyes snapped up to his, she felt her stomach flip at the same time as an uncontrollable smile spread across her face. She still wanted to scratch the eyes out of the barmaid though. Ken paid the bill, noticing Helen’s bottle of Chablis was on there, he said nothing just handed over his black charge card.
“Thank you Sir,” said the barmaid, “I’ve put your bottle of wine on his bill, was that ok?” she smiled at Helen.
“You can pay me back later,” he whispered to Helen as the barmaid turned her back.
As they left the bar all Helen could think about was the smirky cow behind the bar, all the warm fuzzy feeling of Ken calling her his girlfriend had gone because of that jumped up little bitch.
“I’ll be as quick as I can, I can’t wait to be inside you.”
Helen rubbed his inner thigh as they kissed and then squeezed him hard, almost hurting him.
“I want you so much,” he whispered.
“Then you had better hurry as I might not wait all night.” They both knew she would.
“Oh no I’ve left my phone on the bar, hang on and I’ll walk with you,” she said. Helen walked back inside and straight to the bar, she gestured for the barmaid to come over, and as soon as she was within hearing range she lent forward and whispered, “fuck you,” into the barmaid’s face and left, taking her phone out of her pocket on her way.