Posts Tagged ‘Blonde’


January 3, 2008

It started when I was out and met a group of girls who invited me to attend a fashion show with them. But not just attend, since this fashion show was for charity, they wanted me to be a volunteer model. I told them I would certainly think about it but because I had lots to do, I will try my hardest to be there for them.

A little background on this group of girls: while it seems that this was the first time I met them, they all seemed very familiar. They weren’t strangers. They seemed to have known me.

I woke up in the morning by the sound of my alarm only to look at it in a daze and shut it off again. As I drifted off to sleep I realized I had a few classes to attend today and that finals week was just around the corner. I managed to squeeze in as much shut eye as I could before forcing myself awake.

9:55am, class starts at 10. Not to worry, it was an 1 hour 30 minute lecture. I could spare the first few minutes as class was only 15 minutes away. I thought about foregoing my classes altogether but there were 2 classes I knew I could pass if I bunkered down and studied all night. I had no idea how I was going to pass the third class, it was on Ferrier Transforms since I haven’t ever attended that class all year. I need to get dressed.

I scrummaged around my room desperate for clean clothes when the doorbell rang. I peeked my head out down the hallway with my pants unfastened wondering if I should fully dress before answering that doorbell. Putting on the closest t-shirt I greeted the door with a smile.

Awaiting me were the 5 girls I met the night before, armed to the teeth with fashion garments and assessories. I let them in and told them I had to get ready for class. They pleaded after me that I promised to attend the fashion show with them. I had to go to class or be met with failing grades in all my classes this quarter, but who can resist the batting eyelashes and the convincing voice of a gorgeous blonde. I complied.

After deciding to ditch my classes for the promise of spending the whole day modeling and hanging out backstage I hopped in a Mercedes convertible and sped off. This wasn’t like any convertible, it somehow managed to fit all six of us comfortably, four in the backseat although it was somewhat of a squeeze. I didn’t mind. I was sandwiched between the back driver-side window and the blonde. She was wearing a short black dress, smelled of roses and her legs looked silky smooth to the touch.

I looked at her. Her eyes met mine and glanced away. The game was on.

I threw out the bait, luring her in with each tug but every time she got close she moved away begging my to recast. I couldn’t tell you who was seducing who, but I knew I was hooked. Our hands grazed for a moment. They would graze again and linger for another moment. We continued a platonic conversation, but the flirtation underneath the surface was another story being told by her body language. Our fingertips touched, I felt the electricity send a shiver down her spine. Our fingers would cross and become a full grasp, she would squeeze and hold on just a moment longer each time before she let go.

It was a dance. Our hands communicating subconsciously to each other. I brushed her hair away from her face and soon we arrived to the fashion show.

I woke up, it was 8:19am. Miraculously, after sleeping through 2 alarms, multiple snoozes, and cutting a dream short of it’s final imagination I scrambled out of bed, got dressed and drove to work, where I am now.