A Fox In The Henhouse

A young journalist, in trying to acquire a story for a magazine to boost his career encounters a hedonistic, adversary and a test of wits and mind games begins.

 

A Fox in the Henhouse

 

 

 

  

First The Confrontation, With A Vile Genius Spawns A New Nietzsche

 

 

The borough was drenched in sunshine as a young man of medium height, strutted down the street, in an upscale area known to house the crème de la crème of the city’s intelligentsia, haughty descendants of old money and the vastly growing nouveau riche. Donning clear frames, a grey jacket, a long sleeved blue, calico dress shirt, tan chinos and loafers, the man scanned the upscale area , admiring the neatly trimmed hedges and flowers that beset the perimeters of the houses.

He continued to walk until he stopped, pulling out a piece of paper with an address scribbled onto it.

 

236 Harrington Borough Celestine Avenue Blue and White House at the end of Avenue

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He looked up at the house whose outside was covered in a pale blue paint, with a white trowel plastic finish. From the foot of the street leading upward, were a large set of stairs leading to a door with a man’s face engraved in gold. The door itself was also trimmed in gold but was mostly cedar, to which the young man gently touched, running the tips of his fingers along the door’s smooth frame before pulling his hand away slowly, then forming it into a tight fist, propelling it forward and back then forward again with enough force to alert the person inside of his presence.

There was a shuffling on the inside along with muffling conversation that was basically unintelligible from the outside of the house, but the sound of footsteps grew closer and the door opened to reveal a young woman with copper coloured skin and dirty blonde hair who could have been in her mid-twenty’s. Her big grey sweater and denim jeans clung to her firm young body as she exited and the platform shoes she wore made a clop clop clop sound like the hooves of a fine mare as she left the house, her face red and flustered, brushing her hair behind her left air with one awkward swoop. Upon watching her walk rather quickly up the avenue, at the door stood now a tall man with a large beard, balding hair and a broad smile that was unnerving to behold. He stood with a poise that almost screamed of the utmost arrogance and as he outstretched his hand to greet the young man, he paused, sniffed is two forefingers, wiped them into his pants then using the other hand, extended it to the young man who accepted it, somewhat relunctantly.

 

“You must be from the house cleaning company. The bill you sent me I must say was quite hefty and-”

“Actually Dr Narcis, I’m a journalist. I’m here to do an exposé on you for a series on experts in various fields of study at the pinnacle of success.”

          “Oh oh oh yes yes, do come in Mr…”

“Grant Sir, James Grant.”

 

The two men walked into the house and upon entering, James was sure where he had entered was in no way built by the hands of man. The hallway into which he had entered was massive, leading into other hallways, almost in a labyrinth-like fashion that fascinated James’ taste for architecture highly.

The Romanesque outlay of the inside was equally matched with art that was both avant-garde but also tasteful. They walked for what seemed like hours until they got to the living room which was decorated with art pieces, whether painting, sculpture or abstract piece that were carefully placed around the room. There was a fireplace in the centre of the room with pots of ferns at every corner complimented by artwork with both antiquated and postmodern furniture that all seemed to be set in this intricate narrative crafted by Dr Narcis himself.

Dr Narcis walked towards the mini bar in the corner of the room and gestured to James politely.

“ Anything to drink? Wine, whiskey, gin, scotch?”

“Water would be just fine”

Dr Narcis snickered.

“Oh, what a safe choice. Water. Are you sure? It’ll only be one drink”

“No thank you Dr Narcis, I don’t really drink”

He snickered again, patting his stomach

“You young people and your inhibitions. Always bridling life. Let it be a free steed once in a while ey?”

Dr Narcis proceeded to pour himself a glass of Jack Daniels, carefully adding two cubes of ice to it, whilst stopping down, opening a small refrigerator, and pulling out a bottle of water that he then tossed to James who fumbled it but eventually managed to hold onto it.

He opened the bottle and gently drank from it, allowing the water to travel down his throat, as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and then sealing the bottle again.

“So you say you’re from a magazine right James?”

“Yes, Dr Narcis”

“Ima. Just plain Ima. You’re not one of my students and even with them it feels all too formal you know?”

James handed him the card entitled

 

 

TIME MAGAZINE                     JAMES GRANT                              JOURNALIST

 

 

Dr Narcis  eyed the business card with what looked like both admiration and scrutiny, but he handed back the card to James and said almost sarcastically;

“TIME Magazine. I see. Alright. Well I think I’ll have myself a little seat in this chair. Go ahead James. Commence thy interview”

James took out his notepad and pen, along with his phone, set up in signature interviewer format and breathed in and out, closing his eyes and reopening them, honing all of his focus on the flow of his questions and his delivery.

“Some have called you a bright spark, Dr Narcis, a wunderkind; some might even say you’re a genius. You’ve been one of the first surgeons to successfully separate conjoined quintuplets….”

The doctor sat back in his seat, lapped his right leg over his left, interlocking his fingers and smiled. Hearing someone refer to him in this manner wasn’t new to him but it was always refreshing to hear someone admonish him with such titles. He continued to listen to James give what seemed to be his biography instead of a question

 “…You gave them all live healthy lives post separation and most notably apart from your innumerable successful open heart surgeries, the most notable that brought and solidified your name as the best of the best would be the removal of the gargantuan cyst from Harold McFonnolly’s neck. What did you term it Dr Narcis?

He laughed and then sought to respond

“The Narcis Cyst. A Moby Dick of a cyst that thing was. My God. Haha”

“The Narcis Cyst, cleverly named. You’re into puns I’m assuming?”

“I mean, who isn’t? Puns are by far my most favourite thing about the English language. After swearing of course but puns are grand; fluid, fortuitous, sexual even politically charged. They’re amorphous; they can take any shape, any form. That’s why I chose to name the fleshy growth after myself.”

 

James was writing key points while listening to Dr Narcis expound on the idea;

 

“The central idea wasn’t egoistic in nature at all. Well it might have been but who gives a s**t. The whole idea was to create this metaphor out of it. Now I know that may seem a bit peculiar but I saw that cyst as a hindrance, obviously, but the kind of hindrances that inhibit growth in mankind; pride and superiority, the vile things that need to be cut out. I freed that man you know. I did. From his pride and his greed”

 

“How would you even know if he was a prideful, greedy person ?”

“We all are my fine friend, in some warped form or fashion. Just some of us are good at masking it. Some of us choose to be upfront with it.”

Dr Narcis shrugged, laughed then took a sip of his Jack Daniels whilst line up another question.

 

“So how does a medical doctor retire from practicing to manage to pursue and obtain a doctorate in Contemporary art before fifty years old?”

“Oh that’s an easy one. My parents were both doctors. They wanted their children to all be doctors so we did as we were told. I did what I had to do, did well in school. Rose to the top of my class, completed my residency early because of my medical prowess and genius then a couple years into it I realized I never loved it. I was just really f*****g good at it. So I defiantly gave up my parents’ career and pursued my own, but not before leaving my mark on the medical world you know?”

 

James took another sip of his water and then fired another question

“Does leaving your mark include teeth and scratch marks on a nurse? Nancy Graham. You know her right?”

Dr Narcis’ smile started to fade a little.

“I have heard you’re notorious for leaving your mark. You’re a vandal, who isn’t afraid to leave a mark wherever or whenever he pleases”

“Who has said this of me? I’m no vandal or whatever you’re implying I am”

“Jacquelyn Summers begged to differ. Rather she begged and you well…you just did what vandals do. Phoebe McFern begged to differ as well amongst countless other claims from other female students of yours”

Dr Narcis sat forward and took another sip of his Jack Daniels, savouring the malt and age within the blend before slowly placing the glass down.

“You’re calling me a rapist? That’s a very, very serious thing to call a man in his own house”

“I haven’t called you anything Dr Narcis. I’m simply referring information to you about you, given to me and collected…by me”

He laughed then sat back again, perching his arms on either side of the couch he sat on.

“You yuppies, will be the reason for the earth’s eventual collapse, do you know that?”

James was perplexed

“Let me guess, I’ll guess you’re about twenty-four, maybe twenty five. Hm..you’ve only had sex with like one girl your  entire life, a sweet girlfriend of five or so years  and you were probably a loser in school too, quiet, shy, some kind of wallflower”

James retorted

“What’s your point?”

Dr Narcis sat forward

“My f*****g point James… is that people like you are losers for most of your lives, starting from the rut and mud, climbing upward through the mucky awkwardness of your social realities or lack thereof, working your way through university, landing a somewhat decent job to undercut natural born winners like myself because Evolution hasn’t been fair to you all, so you can make yourselves feel a tad bit better about not being winners from inception.”    

James sat back and studied the face from the man across him. His eyes were starting to ignite with these embers that made them glow, the creases and crinkles around the eyes relaxed  and his face lit up with a campfire of  smile.

 

“Look James, I didn’t invite you into my home for you to either berate me or I you, but you’re doing kind of a s****y thing here you know? You’re making me feel bad, moist. I don’t like to feel moist. I like to feel great.”

“I didn’t come here to make you great Dr Narcis. I came here for some truth. A big scoop of it.”

Dr Narcis laughed loudly, loudly enough so it resounded through the house, rattling James’ nerves.

“Jesus Christ, did they teach you how to say that at journalist school? Hm? Listen. Let me give you some advice, one creative to another. Don’t be another one of these ' boring cliché wannabe writer f***s”

Dr Narcis leaned forward

“Do not, for the love of God, think you can just get by writing contrived drivel; stink pieces that destroy the citadel that is a man's integrity. Instead, seek to carpe diem and write stories about that. The audience will appreciate you for it, the authenticity. They love that.”

“You’re derailing the situation Dr Narcis” said James, starting to become visibly irate

Dr Narcis walked toward the bar and poured himself another glass of Jack Daniels then he proceeded to take a swig and hold it in his left hand while using his other hand to engage James.

“Do you want to know something authentic about myself? It isn’t Christmas but I’ll be generous and give you more than one thing. Numero uno, I have bedded a total of two hundred and fifty women in my life. Some of them the wives of powerful and influential men; senators, judges, one of them a sultan’s wife.

 Numero dos, despite my infidelities, I love my wife, my  beautiful black queen, Yura with all my heart and soul, despite the fact that  she loathes me completely and I mean utterly loathes me.

Numero tres, we have a daughter, a lovely lady. My other queen, my Shesha. She’s a right bother though. I mean I love her to death but I didn’t send her to Oxford just so she could become a mere accountant. I mean both her parents are Doctors in the Arts and Psychology, but a f*****g accountant. My wife and I told the lovely girl her whole life she could be anything and she chose to be an accountant. At PriceWaterHouseCoopers no less.  My God, the sky is falling.”

“She has a good job at  least Dr Narcis…”

“Oh for f***s sake, I have berated you openly. I’d like to say we’re somewhat  friends now so, the least you can do is call a man by his birth name. Ima, James. My. Name. Is. Ima.”

“Right…Ima. She has a job; an accountant who is the daughter of two Doctors. In the West she is basically considered a Rothschild at this point.”

 

Dr Narcis laughed heartily

“You’re funny…”

James was tired of the roundabout games and sought to get what he came for;

“I’ll digress at this point and ask you this: did you assault those women? Did you abuse your power?”

 

Dr Narcis laughed again and swayed a little, taking another sip of his Jack Daniels, careful to steady his state of drunkenness and sobriety.

“ I did not  assault those women. I didn’t. I fucked them. That’s something real  men do James. We mount them and that is what I did. Consensually.”

He laughed heartily again.

 I might…might have abused my power a little. But that is what power is meant for. You know? Mostly fairness amongst the masses but just a little abuse”  He said with a wry smile.

 

James’ face was wretched with discomfort but he was trying to power through it to get to the nitty gritty for the sake of the story.

“You’re a pretty boy you know James. What kind of girls do you like? Do you even like girls? It’s okay if you don’t” he said, somewhat coyly, with a subtle smirk.

James humoured the question

“I like smart women like your wife Ima. However I like women who are sort of daring. I’m not sure.”

“Watch your pretty little mouth there James with how you talk about my wife hahaha”

“I generally like women who are intelligent and open minded”

“Well I James, I am a man of the Serengeti. I like the Giantesses, the ponies, the goats, the mudfish, the dragons. The ponies especially oh boy. I am a pony f****r by right”

James was perplexed

“If you’re thinking I am a transgressor. I commit many sins but none surpass that threshold. I love no animals to that degree. Ponies are what I call short women. I absolutely adore them. They do love to be violated so. In their arses so wildly. My Yura however is a slightly taller woman”

James could tell from the terminology used that Dr Narcis was an uncouth man, who frequently flaunted his misogyny and liked to do so for mere sport.

“You’re…vile”

“No my friend, You’re simply on Napoleon’s Pegasus, judging with your seemingly less sinful eye on a man no more sinful than you”

“On Napoleon’s Pegasus?”

Dr Narcis turned James, looked him in the eye and said

“It is a euphemism for a person with something to compensate for by creating something around themselves to mask the thing they are trying to compensate for. You think I am vile so you’re trying to be on a higher moral high ground or seemingly so but you’re just to cover the fact that you envy that I, a more superior male to you, though vile, has the killer instinct you lack. So you created a killer instinct of your own, one where you butcher the characters of those stronger or more desirable than you”

“You’re making base assumptions to detract from the real issue at hand. I’m just stating something objective. You’re vile”

“Alright fair enough; but James, my boy, listen to me, I have lived life to the fullest, I tell you. Drugs, women, knowledge, fist fights, I’ve done it. I can tell you all these things while they may not suit your rather reserved Lutheran tastes, still I implore you, if you’re  any writer worth your salt, do not seek to go against a man like myself. Rather take what I have shown you to carve out your own experiences out of this pumpkin called life. Stop living vicariously through others and live through yourself.  Now go, get out of my house. I’ve nothing more to share with you.”

James saw the cue to leave and quickly gathered his tools, not before placing his phone into his pocket.

Dr Narcis ushered him toward the door, a journey that was as long as it was on the way in. When he reached the door, Dr Narcis whispered into James’ ear

“You know, I might remember the night with Phoebe McFern. Cute girl that one. Might have violated her too but I guess we’ll never know will we?”

He pulled out a notepad wrote something on a page, tore it then handed it to James.

This is incase you ever write or live something of merit and would like to share it. Good day James ey?”

Dr Narcis then shoved James outside of his penthouse and slammed the door, leaving him outside.

James was definitely perturbed by the entire ordeal but the doctor, though crass and vile had a point; James had to decide to leap into a direction that was not normally his way to go. He was puzzled for a while  but then it hit him.

He allowed his feet to walk him to the top of the avenue and he waited for a taxi to take him into the city.

 

 

Then The Apple Fell Far From The Tree But Now It Turns The Tide Of War

 

 

 

The night-time was cool but the air of that night reeked of ripe, newly strewn stomach acid and alcohol along with a thick mist of warm, sticky sexual frustration that spread throughout the night-air.

Clubbing was never one of James’ favourite or regular pastimes but he found himself at The Underbelly, a club just below the city, at the bar amongst a crowd of people trying to get himself a rum and coke. He had been there for over ten minutes, watching girl after girl after girl get fancy cocktails, some using their screen-time to buy men they fancied drinks  as well but James was not in luck.

Another ten minutes went by and the crowd thinned a bit but still James had not received his rum and coke and he was peeved.  He looked toward the ceiling, then closed his eyes, clutching his nose bridge between his forefinger and thumb, deciding the idea to turn over a new leaf was a stupid idea and he was ready to return to his old way of life.

As he turned to turn to head out of the underground club,  he ran into a woman with straight auburn hair, tied into a neat bun who was dressed in work attire. His glasses fell and suddenly he was scrambling to recover them when she simply knelt down and handed them to him.

“Gotta be careful down here in The Underbelly. Losing your eyes in here can mean losing your life as well.”

She placed the glasses back onto his face gently and when his eyes focused, the woman before him was as regal as she had sounded. Her eyes were dark but they shone even in the darkness of the nightclub, and her skin was the smoothest shade of brown, matched by a healthy figure that was carved into the work attire she wore, her allure almost inhuman.

“You’ve been at the bar for twenty minutes waiting for a drink”

“How’d you know that?”

“I was across the room talking to some girlfriends from work and I saw you there struggling so I said I’d help a man out y’know?”

“I needn’t any help thank you” said James defiantly

“Oh but you do. Stop being difficult”

She waved her hand at the bartender who noticed her and she called for two gin and tonics along with two rum and cokes. The four drinks were delivered down the bar quickly and James now found himself lucky.

“Let me guess, you were going to stand there all night and hope to get yourself watered weren’t you?”

“No actually…I was about to leave until you came over, worked your magic and now you’ve convinced me not to”

“Aha, you can still go home you know, I’m not really bothered”

James stared at her as she gestured with her hand with a shooing motion, that caused him to drift to one side before she rushed forward to grab his arm.

“Jesus, I was kidding man”

“Really? I couldn’t tell”

“You’re sarcastic. Alright”

“This? This is sarcasm?”

“Precisely, that is exactly what sarcasm is”

They both laughed and the woman outstretched her hand to greet James

“ Shesha”

“James”

“Do you have a last name name James?”

James paused

“I mean I do but here is the thing about it. You didn’t provide your name so I don’t think it is fair of me to release what mine is.”

“Just give me the name”

“Ladies first”

“Chivalry is archaic. Just go”

“Chivalry isn’t archaic”

“I’m not doing this with you. We’re in a nightclub underground.”

“This is the perfect place to have this conversation Shesa. Wait, am I pronouncing it right?”

“It’s like Blessa, but with a Shh sound. Sheh-Suh. Shesha.”

James sought to memorise the name, and then shot her a response

“My name’s James Grant.”

“See? That wasn’t that hard right?”

“No haha. No it wasn’t. Now what’s yours?”

“How about you have a drink with me and then we can see if you can convince me to yield”

She raised her hand to signal to the bartender who waltzed over to where she stood amidst the growing crowd of people around the bar.

“Two more gin and tonics please”

The bartender slid them down the bar and Shesa handed one to James who sipped slowly on his whilst Shesa downed hers immediately.

There was music in the background and Shesha outstretched her hand in James’ direction.

“What’s this?”

“An invitation to dance”

“I can’t dance”

“I can’t reign fire upon the earth at my whim and fancy but the important thing is to try right?”

“What?”

“Just dance with me”

Shesa downed the last of her gin and tonic then pulled him onto the dance floor. She let go of his hand and allowed the music to consume her. Her movements were wildly elegant, and with every move she smiled at James who was beginning to reciprocate. She used her forefinger to usher him closer and he came close enough for their foreheads to touch as the music switched to 90bpm, allowing Shesa to throw her hands around James. She looked in to his eyes and he into hers and the two swayed along the floor, slowly. She pulled his head into her shoulder and whispered into his ear:

“My name’s Shesha Narcis. I think you’ve earned that much”

James tried not to choke on the air travelling through his throat to his lungs and sought to play it off

“Narcis…I believe I’ve heard that name before”

“Yeah my father, he is a big wig within the medical fraternity even though he doesn’t practice anymore. Now he’s an established art professor.”

James continued to play it off

“Yes, I do believe I have heard of him. He successfully separated conjoined quintuplets right?”

“Yeah he did and he never lets anyone forget it either”

“He brags about it constantly?”

“No it isn’t that. He tends to lord a lot of his accomplishments over people inclusive of myself. I mean I’m an accountant and he was absolutely petrified when I told him. It was as if I had killed a man”

“I mean it could be worse”

“How so my good man?”

“You could have come out as a politician”

Shesa laughed and punched James’ arm

“I would rather come out as a murderer. At least in his eyes I would be a force to be reckoned with”

“To be honest, the way you look, I can see how that could be possible even now”

“Twenty five minutes in and you’re already a suave young man. Nice flirt”

James felt awkward and sought to redeem himself

“ I didn’t mean for it to come off weir-”

“I’m kidding James. It’s a joke. You know what jokes are right?”

“Yes…yes I do”

“Good. Now dance with me”

She pulled him toward the middle of the floor amongst the throng of partygoers and began a routine that hooked James’ eyes to her.  Flipping her hair, she swayed to the beat of the electronic song thumping in the background, acting as a soundtrack of the night.

She danced on her own, shedding her jacket, underneath a navy blue long sleeved shirt she unbuttoned at the top, rolling the sleeves up, hoisting her skirt up for more maneuverability, taking graceful steps in the broad heels she wore. James watched from a distance as the strobe lights illuminated her body, flashing in a way that made reality and the partygoers look like they was flickering in and out of existence.

James was enamoured by her as she was moving, watching her arms work their way around the air around her and along the contours of her body so much so that the entire thing became a spectacle. She then looked in James’ direction and gestured with her forefinger, beckoning him to come to her. He felt a sudden tug within himself, an urgency and he walked toward her until his nose bridge was plastered onto hers. She smiled and made a move for him to dance, waltzing around him until he obliged and moved along the beat of the song that transitioned into another.

Her moves were bewitching and she came toward him now, planting a kiss onto his lips, allowing him the opportunity to reciprocate, to which he did, wrapping his onto hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, biting his lip whilst he grabbed her waist, the two an ionic bond in the large party space.

She then released herself from his mouth and then held his hand, leading to the exit of the club. The outside was cold and it was a couple minutes before Shesa was able to hail a taxi, to which just before they entered, james said

“You know…I’ve never done this…”

Shesa replied

“What is ‘this?’

“Whatever ‘this’  is”

“You being coy is quite cute. You should use that as your trademark feature to pick up women”

“Why do I feel like you’re making fun of me?”

“Why would I be? I’m a woman who is currently being picked up”

She laughed then said

“It’s okay, I promise I won’t hurt you… much”

 

 

….

 

 

 

Shesa’s apartment is a large studio on the eastern end of the city where the city lights in the distance hang like angels overlooking the city, watching it’s beautiful but fragile children, who allow the darkness to envelop their humble abodes as they nest for the night.

 

She enters the apartment and turns the light on revealing an array of paintings and sculptures amidst a collection of books that James could tell had not only been old but read thoroughly through.

“Kiekergaard huh?”

“Oh yeah, I got that from my dad as a gift for my seventeenth birthday. Read it through till I couldn’t read it anymore. You like philosophy? Wait that’s a rhetorical question”

James laughs and scoffs at the same time

“Why is  that rhetorical?”

“You seem like the type to analyse a pebble and allude to the hardship of young adulthood…or something like that”

“I…wouldn’t do that”

Shesha laughs and takes her jacket off, along with her shoes, heading to the bar where she pours herself a glass of wine along with another.

“You like Cabernet Sauvignon?”

“I like wine, I’ll put it that way”

They drink and she laughs, causing James to become nervous

“Wh-what’s the matter?”

“You’re the cutest little bean you know? But you’re gorgeous as well, in this sheltered kind of way, it screams innocence but also not”

James blushes but smiles trying to hide the fact that he is both embarrassed  and sort of easily read.

He takes another sip of wine and says awkwardly

“Am I that predictable?”

Shesha laughs

“No, you’re not predictable. Predictable isn’t the word to use. Evident is a more appropriate word. You’re kind of like a map and your disposition a marker, so it makes it easier to see you. You know, not you but you”

“I actually get that ah. By the way nice art collection”

“Oh yeah haha, if it’s one thing I can credit my parents for especially my dad, is my taste is art.”

“I see. This one here I especially like. It’s subtle yet striking”

James points to a painting of a blue background with a small glowing orb in the centre of a young boy’s hands as a shapeless blackness seeks to devour him

“It kind of reminds me of-”

She interrupts

“Okay  ha-ha-ha I’m sorry to interrupt but ehem  are we going to like f**k at some point? I didn’t bring you all the way to my nice apartment for in-depth conversation about art. We can do this tomorrow over coffee.”

James stopped and turned away to which Shesa thought she was rude

“I-I’m sorry, that was rude”

James turned back and smiled

“There’s a tomorrow?”

Shesha laughed hard and slaps James’ arm

“There might be, you never know. Wait quick question. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Would it matter if I did?”

“Not really, no”

“I did, for five years but we’ve been broken up for a year or so now”

“Oh, and she’s been your only girlfriend?”

“Yes. My only one. What about you? How many boyfriends…?”

“Suitors and Partners”

“Why not boyfriends?”

“Do you really want to get into the nitty gritty of my escapades with men right now? They’re quite a few”

“Well…I mean”

Shesha slaps James’ arm again

“You’re supposed to say no you dumbass. Don’t ruin the element of mystery”

They both laugh and sip more wine, as Shesha goes over to a Bluetooth speaker, cycling through music until she plays a soft guitar led song.

“Come here”

James puts his wine down and takes his jacket off.

Shesa stares at him in the eyes and then kisses him then pulls away. She has a subtle smile on her lips and then she says

“I want you to take me right here on this couch”

“Right here?”

“..Yes James right here”

“Couch sex seems a bit cliché for a first encounter”

She punches his arm

“I swear to God I will send you home in a taxi right now empty handed, you shithead”

James laughs and kissed her, while he unbuttons her shirt, fumbling

Shesa remarks, pretending to be concerned

“Careful, this is Calvin Klein”

“Sorry”

She laughs again

“Are you nervous?”

“…Yes”

She looks at him, giggling

“Here let me help you”

She unbuttons her shirt and unzips her skirt, revealing a matching set of bra and panties hugging a curvy frame. She then helps James take his shirt off along with his pants and as he kicks his shoes off, she marvels at his frame; medium build, tan skin, semi muscular but bony all at once, giving off an air of being untouched yet touched.

She then says

“ I have an idea”

Pulling his phone out she makes a suggestion

“Do you want to…record us? I know it’s wild and if you’re uncomfortable…”

“Sure.”

She is dumbfounded

“Just like that?”

James smiles

“I’ve nothing to lose right?”

“I mean you do, I could leak it onto the internet”

“Will you?”

“No…your newfound bravery I must say is doing a lot of things for me right now”

James edges toward her smiling

“Is it now?”

Shesha breathes slowly

“Y-yes”

It begins with a crawl then it graduates into a walk and a sprint and the room slowly becomes a steamy, passionate encounter that fogs the windows and fills the air with the scent of sweat and dominaton, as James unleashes himself onto Shesha, which comes as a surprise to her but she takes all of him and gives back ten fold, contorting her body to suit his strength and speed as he entered her over and over, all over the room, the ever watchful eye of  device on the sidelines capturing the ferocity of the acts in motion.

Shesha lies on her back now as James rams himself  into her at increasing speed, holding his face as she crumbles beneath him as she climaxes , then ith sweat on her brow she smiles

“Coffee.”

“H-h-huh?”

“Coffee t-t-tomorr-oh my god f**k, coffee tomorrow would be good ha-ha”

“Then it’s…a”

“A date. A date yes.”

She smiles after she’s said this and then cups his face into her hands and kisses him hard, then grabbing his neck, as he pants into her ear loudly.

He is spent. She, satisfied.

 

….

 

James wakes first as the light streams through the wide window of the apartment. He recounts the night before and smiles, looking over at Shesha who is fast asleep beneath the sheets. He looks at her hard now and realizes that he had done something out of his character but knows that he was now a lived man or rather, on the verge of being a lived man.

He looks at the cellphone contacts and sees the number Dr Narcis put into his phone, remembering the mission the good doctor left him with.

‘This is incase you ever write or live something of merit and would like to share it.’

He looks over at Shesa again and using the phone, takes a picture of her, then opens a chat with Dr Narcis

 

‘hello dr narcis. this is james. you told me to go out and carpe diem and I have . believe me, it was quite exhilarating.’

 

He uploads the image into the chat and pauses, pondering on the morality of it. He thinks of how it would go against the very nature of himself.

Then he mutters to himself

“Carpe Diem”

And the message that follows becomes a herald unto itself.