Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Office Memo.

Nobody else would get away with it, not even Johnny Depp, not even Brad Pitt, but somehow, like magic, Adam can do whatever he wants, especially with the ladies. It’s almost like he was put on this planet to keep husbands on their toes. He strides into the office building, kisses the blonde receptionist full on the lips, grabs Sue’s ass in the lift, she backs into his hand. He’s had all of them in accounts. Maggie, his PA, wears short skirts and unbuttoned blouses, her breasts jiggle as she walks and spill over the top when she bends down. Everyone wants a piece of Adam and he has enough to go around, he’s generous like that.

Adam is the biblical first man, peeling back Eve’s fig leaves and touching her just there. Adam is whoever you want him to be, in the back of a cab, under the restaurant table, in your marital bed. He just snaps his fingers and you come running like teenage Beatles fans, like starving cannibals, like sex hungry zombies. Adam loves his life.

What it is about him that provokes this illicit response? Is he attractive? Sure, he has those dreamy peepers and that wicked and hypnotic slow smile. Is it the way he dresses? Probably, in his fine grey suit which belongs in a page of an expensive and glossy fashion magazine. Is it his way with the words? More than likely, he’s seductive with his language, sensual and then sometimes outright dirty. Words are whispered closely into a tickled ear, hot breath lingers on a sensitive neck, and the shivers are delicious and delightful. Is it his confidence? Yes, I do believe this is the key. Adam knows that he can have you, take you and devour you, so he does. The deed is done, he clinks the door shut before your head even remotely catches up with the rest of your tingling body. There’s a drop of swagger, a spoonful of cocky and a large helping of arrogance. You know that he’s a bad boy; maybe you could be the one to tame him? God, you’re all so predictable. But on you go, in frenzied drones, falling at his feet, asking him what aftershave he wears, giggling like idiots, flickering your eye lashes, offering up your kohl doe eyes and licking your pink lips. He’ll never change.

I know that because I’m his fucking wife.



  1. Loved it- as ever. Great denouement!

  2. Oh Laura! I love this!!!! You had me eating out of the palm of Adam's hand . . .er . . your hand ;)
    Awesome! I'm so happy to be following your blog, I want more of these yummy stories!