‘Now I am going to tell you a story’ said Samantha while her audience of two sank a little deeper in to the couch and went ahhhhh.
‘It’s about seduction gone wrong.’
Now, if it’s possible to relax and pay more attention all at once, well they did.
It didn’t hurt that their bellies were full and they were sitting in front of a roaring fire in the foyer of a Parisian hotel, the best kind. Discrete, on a residential street in the 7th arrondissement. Plush. Kind of like home would be if you had a welcoming spirit, taste refined over generations and the budget to always be a la mode. It didn’t hurt either that it was the kind of hotel where the bar was an art deco cart with every top shelf liquor right there for the taking. If you signalled a waiter would appear from nowhere and assist you in mixing your favourite. But if you wanted to make a Highball yourself, well you could.
Ahhhh. Can there be too much sighing in the word? Isn’t it great when the lungs just want to expel all the tension, when the body just does its thing and the mind curls up in bedtime mode and waits patiently.
The fire cackled behind her, Sam shifted on her six inch black patent heels with the insane curved instep and her silk dress rippled in obeissance. That dress was so sheer and the pattern so restrained that it served as more of a curtain to her shape than a dress. All the better for hearing the tale, thought Claire, wondering, in the only part of her mind that wasn’t completed overpowered, how Samantha could teach anything about seduction gone wrong. Wasn’t she masterfully weaving a web right now? Right now? Right now? She wondered with a vague tinge whether Jeremy was spellbound. Oh well. She let that thought ripple through her and radiate to the outer recesses of her awareness to be dealt with at a less enticing time.
‘So there I was. In the bathroom upstairs. Oh, it’s divine. French modern as only they can. It’s white, and anywhere else that would mean a triumph of expensive boring. But there are huge gilt frames, Louis something chairs, and then right in the middle of the room an enormous, metal shavings chandelier with swarovski crystal beads. I mean, how could you? Who would ever think of that. And under it a HUGE oversized ottoman and rug. It’s Alice in wonderland meets Marie Antoinette, meets Souk all in one place. It’s freeing. It’s sexy. It’s….
Well. Anyway…..I was inspired. And since he was getting back from his big conference session late in the afternoon, and it was our big night out together, well, I wanted to get him in the mood. And I thought it would be fun…..so I…..’
‘What?’ asked Jeremy faintly, as if he was tip toing into a dream that he didn’t want to wake up from.
Sam smiled and picked up her Highball. With the interruption to the story so to Claire’s breathing. Claire only noticed after a few seconds passed and the laughter from a group of happy guests coming in from the cold and passing through the foyer hit a crescendo and faded away. Claire made herself inhale and tilted a little to see that Jeremy’s eyes were wide and reflecting the roar of the fire as he watched Sam. He seemed to be focused on Sam’s lips, which were still curved over the rim of the glass.
‘Oh’ laughed Sam. ‘Well, of course, I went shopping…for lingerie! I walked all the way to Le Bon Marche and up to the lingerie section. I mean why not…’
And then Sam giggled in an awkward, gangly kind of way. Her body shook and for a moment the awkward teenager Claire remembered emerged and threatened the spell.
‘It’s not exactly my normal thing. I mean, flannel PJs, cotton knickers………but being here I wanted to be different…it’s so godammed sexy this city and it was such a tough year and I found myself falling more and more in love with him while he went to his conference and did busy things….and I just wanted to…I don’t know….normally I am busy too. Too busy for frivolous things. Earnest. Saving, planning, hording. No time for sexy….
…..but French couples, older couples, they kiss on the streets for God’s sake. They make eating raspberries sensual, they put them on tiny little metal trays and when you eat them the flavour bursts in your mouth and the juice dribbles down your throat. You go to order cheese and they want you to feel it on your mouth, to taste it, to smell it and to savour the colour. You order coffee and it the aroma matters, the temperature of the water, the delicacy of the china, your surrounds – what you hear, the feel of your chair. So I thought if they can do it, so can I. For so long I have been reading that you have to live in the moment. It sounded slightly unfun. I didn’t realise it was so sexy.
So, anyway, the lingerie department is done up like a boudoir. Pale pink, perfumes on little writing desks, soft silk padded hangers and floating pieces of silk, satin, lace all lined up. The price tags are bigger and more solid (because they have to hold all the zeros!) than the merchandise. The air is soft and warm, a slight smell of jasmine, and a soft white décor that makes it feel like a temple of sorts. I shuffled around, looking at panties, bras, chemises. All beautiful but so delicate that as I moved the hangers up and down to get a closer look I was too scared to touch them. Lace spun so delicately that it would be like wearing a spiders web. And then, looking at these nothings that must have taken master lacemakers and seamstresses months to create, I wondered, were they magic. Were love spells and incantations woven in to them. I just knew I had to find something – for us – for me. ‘
‘What did you get?’ asked Claire.
‘Wellll……’ said Sam looking at her audience and rolling out a wide, elegant, smile like a boulevard.
‘Soft dove grey bra, panties and suspenders. Odd colour I know, but on my skin…well……it worked…’
‘Suspenders?’ asked Jeremy and Claire in unison. Perhaps Jeremy’s voice was now more of a growl and Claire’s more a high pitched squeak reflecting their unique states of agitation. Claire knew hers was that Sam was moving into official woman territory, like climbing the Mount Everest of femininity, so high that Claire might never be able to follow. And as for Jeremy, well, Claire was sure she didn’t want to follow wherever his mind was going.
‘Yeah. But that’s what I mean, this didn’t exactly have a happy ending. Turns out that the easy part of suspenders is buying them. This is a grim tale…..’ said Sam. And took a swig of her Highball.
END PART ONE.
(My dear readers, thank you for returning and making this blog a success and for your feedback! You have spoken – seems we all need a bit more Mound of Venus in our lives – so here is another in my Travel Petit Fours series….subscribe on the right hand side panel above the lipstick marks if you want be updated when Part II is delivered - Lisa.)
