Part 1
I want to be free... I want to be free... Good old Queen. The singer I'm talking about; Freddie Mercury. Otherwise, being the Queen... She can't be 'free'. Where's the freedom in that?
Imagine Queen Victoria whose statue I saw through the glass wall of the Imperial College this afternoon, who happened to be quite a sexual woman, writing the memoirs of her naughty stories! Scandalous.
Since I am no Queen, let me tell one of mine!
Before I do... Let's get to today's conversation over lunch.
Aisha had made one of her great recipes and invited Kristel and me to late lunch.
I began the morning with meditation, followed by a visit from my new, hot Colombian trainer to box. My knees went weak as he strapped the band around my wrists and had me punching his hands covered by the appropriate covers. It was quite an experience standing opposite this handsome hunk, close enough to smell the fresh odour of his aftershave or eau de cologne, while using all my energy to do as I am told... throw punches. Great pleasure I would say. Well, we all have an imagination. Don't we?!
Having done my pilates class the day before, I decided to walk to Aisha's and enjoy the winter sunshine that the London skies had granted us. Kristel arrived shortly after and our hostess showed us to the dining room. We spent a very pleasant time catching up on the times spent over Christmas away, over a delicious meal and a couple of glasses of rosé.
Aisha said: "Haldita, you used to write such fun stories which were sexy and made me laugh. Your writing is getting so serious now! Please go back."
I had to agree, different times bring on different thoughts and I don't want to lose my sense of having fun writing naughty stories that bring a smile to my face when recalling them as I put it on paper; so to speak. So... Ken came to mind.
Like most people who have access to the internet in this day and age, I did my share of online dating!
After all, it was the good advice Sis had given me right at the start of my free life. But as she says, I don't do things in small measures... I like them big! haha. Well, not literally.
It was on a special site... Well, not match.com or anything boring like that... There are plenty of choices out there... This was the recommendation of my girlfriend Ella whom I met in a bar in Bangkok a couple of years earlier and we kept in touch till she actually moved to London and helped me hook onto the site she used. I met Tim online. The photo he had sent was of a rather good-looking man, his early forties, a little... What do they call it in the body type category? Over well built... No, that's not the word, anyway you get the drift... He did sound a little too serious in his words (for my liking) but after emailing back and forth, he invited me to dinner at a Mayfair restaurant and I accepted. Who knows?! I was new to this.
Meanwhile, I was also in touch with Ken, the hot, tall, well-built Swede in his mid-thirties who was planning a trip over to London at the time. More like a Viking, I must admit.
As it happened, he texted me the morning of the due dinner, to say he was arriving in London that evening and may be available after his business meal that night! Oops! But he did say 'may be'.
Then again, that could work perfectly. In all honesty, I knew things would not be going any further than a (hopefully) pleasant dinner and talk with Tim. He had asked to meet at 7 pm at a fancy Knightsbridge restaurant.
I want to be free... I want to be free... Good old Queen. The singer I'm talking about; Freddie Mercury. Otherwise, being the Queen... She can't be 'free'. Where's the freedom in that?
Imagine Queen Victoria whose statue I saw through the glass wall of the Imperial College this afternoon, who happened to be quite a sexual woman, writing the memoirs of her naughty stories! Scandalous.
Since I am no Queen, let me tell one of mine!
Before I do... Let's get to today's conversation over lunch.
Aisha had made one of her great recipes and invited Kristel and me to late lunch.
I began the morning with meditation, followed by a visit from my new, hot Colombian trainer to box. My knees went weak as he strapped the band around my wrists and had me punching his hands covered by the appropriate covers. It was quite an experience standing opposite this handsome hunk, close enough to smell the fresh odour of his aftershave or eau de cologne, while using all my energy to do as I am told... throw punches. Great pleasure I would say. Well, we all have an imagination. Don't we?!
Having done my pilates class the day before, I decided to walk to Aisha's and enjoy the winter sunshine that the London skies had granted us. Kristel arrived shortly after and our hostess showed us to the dining room. We spent a very pleasant time catching up on the times spent over Christmas away, over a delicious meal and a couple of glasses of rosé.
Aisha said: "Haldita, you used to write such fun stories which were sexy and made me laugh. Your writing is getting so serious now! Please go back."
I had to agree, different times bring on different thoughts and I don't want to lose my sense of having fun writing naughty stories that bring a smile to my face when recalling them as I put it on paper; so to speak. So... Ken came to mind.
Like most people who have access to the internet in this day and age, I did my share of online dating!
After all, it was the good advice Sis had given me right at the start of my free life. But as she says, I don't do things in small measures... I like them big! haha. Well, not literally.
It was on a special site... Well, not match.com or anything boring like that... There are plenty of choices out there... This was the recommendation of my girlfriend Ella whom I met in a bar in Bangkok a couple of years earlier and we kept in touch till she actually moved to London and helped me hook onto the site she used. I met Tim online. The photo he had sent was of a rather good-looking man, his early forties, a little... What do they call it in the body type category? Over well built... No, that's not the word, anyway you get the drift... He did sound a little too serious in his words (for my liking) but after emailing back and forth, he invited me to dinner at a Mayfair restaurant and I accepted. Who knows?! I was new to this.
Meanwhile, I was also in touch with Ken, the hot, tall, well-built Swede in his mid-thirties who was planning a trip over to London at the time. More like a Viking, I must admit.
As it happened, he texted me the morning of the due dinner, to say he was arriving in London that evening and may be available after his business meal that night! Oops! But he did say 'may be'.
Then again, that could work perfectly. In all honesty, I knew things would not be going any further than a (hopefully) pleasant dinner and talk with Tim. He had asked to meet at 7 pm at a fancy Knightsbridge restaurant.
My heart was pounding. Not because I was that excited about my dinner date! But at the madness of it all. Two dates in one night and the fact that I am always over-stressed going out because I am late had added to the thrill of the adventure.
I texted Tim: "I'm all woman... Running a little late!"
Tim answered: "I am sitting at the table in the restaurant. Sure."
Once I got there, the dinner was short as I opted for one starter course, to my host's delight.
At the end of dinner, he said: "You have a fabulous way of perfectly balancing detachment with engagement."
Well, to put it in short. It was that kind of dinner. Tim's somewhat pompous ways didn't quite go down well with the French glass of white wine. So, I left while he was trying hard to continue a conversation which was going nowhere and had taken us to 9.30 pm.
There was no news of Ken so in all the excitement, I called my friend Katerina, who thrived at the idea of my visiting her at home to give her the latest news on the dinner date.
There was not much to tell on my side. However, Katerina seemed all excited to tell me of her date with the Argentinian polo player. My mobile buzzed fifteen minutes after my arrival and Ken had texted to say his dinner would be over and he could meet me at my place at 10.30 pm.
This is only the beginning of the story... To be continued
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