A kiss is not a contract, but it’s very nice
Last night the Consultant came around and we cooked beefburgers (hamburgers for the Americans) together. The plan was to make them from scratch so I went to the shop to pick up ingredients on the way to meet her at the tube station.
We said hellos. She was wearing a white shirt, with a small light brown skirt with light brown cowboy boots and a light brown belt.
It was another well-coordinated look. I’ll have to ask her about that some time to find out if she plans them in advance or just pulls them together.
We got back to the house and started to prepare the meal. I’d got a load of lovely things to put on burgers so there was blue cheese to crumble and tomatoes that needed slicing.
The Consultant put some music on and the cooking was fun. There may have been slightly more kissing than the people on MasterChef would approve of but the end result (the food I mean) was spectacular.
After eating too much we retired for the evening for bed. The Consultant had to get up early to be on the other side of London so two alarms were set before we went to sleep. We did talk about some stuff, like previous relationships and the amount of people you have slept with. Why do people ever ask that question? What ever the answer they aren’t going to like it.
I said I’ve never counted (true) and that I didn’t see the point in keeping score (also true). We talked about relationship history, but it had been so long since I’ve had that chat I had to think carefully to remember it all. She had previously been in an ‘open relationship’ with a soldier but nothing for a while.
The next morning we woke up early thanks to shouty alarms. The Consultant grabbed a shower and I prepared tea, a few Danish pastries and of course some breakfast chocolates. The Consultant liked this and especially pleased with the pastries.
The Consultant wants to get into writing, I had said if she could write a test piece for me that was good enough I ‘d see about commissioning some work from her. She was excited by this.
So after breakfast she decided she wanted to write this test feature, right now. I did sort of make sense because I was there to provide instant feedback but also I was aware of the clock ticking away before she had to leave.
She wrote on my laptop for about 45 minutes. I sort of sat around quietly waiting. I hate being interrupted while writing so I thought I’d afford her the same grace that I would like, it was a bit of a boring way of spending a morning though.
The sample she produced was good. It only needed a little bit of tweaking to make it better suited to the paper, and I told her so.
The Consultant seemed pleased with this and there was quite a lot of kissing. The sort of kissing that might be leading on to something that people do when a lady and a man like each other very much. There was wriggling too.
She was on top of me wriggling around kissing me. It was nice.
And then it stopped suddenly, because she reached over to get the laptop. She did apologise but said she was a perfectionist and she wanted to tweak a sentence. She did a bit of editing while still straddling me.
As you can imagine I was a little shocked by this. Still I decided to focus the positives, she was at least using the laptop to one side rather than resting it on my face.
Once she had finished editing there was a bit more kissing, with her saying she was going to be late. The resistance faded a little bit when I did something very nice on her, but before the subject of reciprocating even be raised she said she had to go.
I walked her to the tube and said goodbye. For the first time I didn’t raise the subject of when I was seeing her next.
Marriage Percentage: 20% – She took a knock for the whole laptop thing, also no-one wants to end a date with a vague sense of being miffed. However I’m sure everyone has off days so I’m not going to delete her from my phone and become a monk.
Not yet anyway.
The Consultant came over a few days later. I asked her to wear something extra slinky and she turned up in a dress that caused breathing complications at 100 yards. Win!
We went to a stand-up gig at the O2, had drinks in the bar and then she stayed over. She was quite possibly the best house guest ever. The only minor complication was that she had covered my back in scratch marks just before I was due to fly off to New York.
Marriage Percentage: 35%